Lads (2024)

[bunniefuu]

58.7 kilos.

Good, you can go.

Next.

58.6 kilos. Fine, you can go.

Next.

59.3 kilos.

You can go.

Next.

Trousers.

Off. We haven't got all week.

62...

Just a second.

What's your name?

Ethan.

Straighten up.

Feet together.

Your chin.

Borderline.

When did you last ride a horse?

I forget. Two, three years ago.

You've got to be kidding.

How long do you expect to

last on a 500 kilo thoroughbred?

The time it takes.

Of course.

Wrong place. This

isn't the Salvation Army.

b*tch.

What did you say?

He's got guts, at least...

Beat it.

Next.

Well?

There's no way.

What do you mean?

What did they say?

Nothing.

Deal with your parole officer.

It's not my problem now.

Put that out and follow me.

Go on.

Careful, the horses

get lively after training.

f*cking hell.

What are you doing? Move.

Your new home.

Pick a bunk.

Rise and shine!

As you can see, we

sleep late and get up early.

No more lie-ins.

Get used to it.

You all dream of a career

like Yves Saint-Martin's.

But there's one thing

you need to get straight.

For every hundred lads,

one will become a jockey.

The rest will scrub

stables forever.

For the time being,

you'll muck out

and feed the horses.

We'll see to the

rest later. Clear?

Have I made myself clear?

Yes.

So get sweeping!

We'll start over there.

Come on.

Hi, want to eat with us?

I don't think so.

You from around here?

From Creil, you?

The southwest.

No stables there?

Yes, but mainly for trotters.

And?

A life spread-eagled

on a sulky isn't for me.

I gallop.

With these dorms,

home has to be better.

The stalls are

cleaner. What a joke.

Yeah, sure.

But nowhere's better.

Mrs Duval is known

the world over.

If you say so...

Not eating?

No, I'm not very hungry.

May I?

If you like.

Not worried about your weight?

Why?

What do you weigh?

Do I ask your bra size?

It's bad. I felt the muzzle.

She's pushing really

hard. Come quickly.

In two hours, it'll be too late.

Hold on, sorry...

What's happening?

It's not looking good.

I'll call you back.

She needs help.

With what?

Just take the yellow bottle

and get yourself clean.

If we wait, we'll lose her.

Come here.

The foal's upside down.

Turn him and he might make it.

There's no way.

That or the butcher.

I don't know how.

I'll guide you.

Go on.

Push your hand in.

f*ck.

Feel anything?

I think I've got it.

Feel the hooves?

Pull them gently.

There you go.

That's it.

Stand back, give him some air.

Good girl.

That's it.

Hi, buddy.

Catch!

What's up with you?

Did you call the boss a b*tch?

- Yeah, why?

- Ballsy.

We do nothing and

get ripped apart.

You insult her and damn all.

Is that normal?

Are you jealous?

A bit, yeah.

What the f*ck?

Let me go!

It's a new jockey tradition.

You're greedy.

So, you'll love this.

What's this? Let him go.

Since when do you

care about newbies?

What's up? Want me to

tear you a new as*h*le?

Get lost.

f*ck off!

Don't break it.

- What is it?

- The Grand Steeple.

Every trainer's dream.

Did you win it?

I know I'm old but still...

My father won it.

The steeplechase was his life.

Why the steeplechase?

Because it's the hardest.

Flat racing is child's

play, in comparison.

The stalls have speakers.

- Did you see?

- Yes.

They say it relaxes the horses.

I've something to show you.

His mother refuses to feed him.

We'll have to

give him the bottle.

Would you be able to do it?

Yes.

- What's he called?

- Ay Ppito.

Ay Ppito, really?

Like the cakes?

I didn't name him

that. The owner did.

Here.

Hi there...

Like a house on fire!

Ever seen a rowing machine?

This is the same.

His hands barely move.

Don't hit as some

jockeys do in races.

A stroke is sufficient.

It's all in the thighs

and the tilt of the pelvis.

We call it "offering your

arse up to the Gods".

Go ahead, laugh.

If you last more

than 15 minutes,

I'll eat my crop.

What's with your tag?

Nothing.

You k*lled people?

Why? You scared?

If I'm mixing with a serial

k*ller, I want to know.

I got caught stealing.

Stealing what?

Cars.

Really?

My dad's got a

garage. I grew up there.

I know the models inside out.

I can unlock them all.

You must've cashed in.

It wasn't just for the money.

For what then?

For the speed, the kicks...

Ethan.

Change and join me at the board.

Now?

No, next week.

f*ck.

Lucas,

Flint as usual.

Alexandre and Louis.

Blue Velvet and Ultra Lady.

Where's Ethan?

Found what you need?

You're on Clairon.

Get him ready.

Like this...

Need a hand?

Yeah.

Give me the girth.

Your leg.

Are you stupid?

You're filthy.

Your shin.

Go on.

One, two, three.

There you go.

That's it.

Good luck.

Lucas, take it easy today.

Canter, don't pull

on him too much.

Ethan, concentrate.

Ok, they're raring to go!

Go.

Find your pace.

Come on.

It's your shot now.

Give it everything!

Your hands!

What are you doing?

Hans! I can't stop him!

Pull on the reins!

Hans!

I have to get him back now?

You're f*cking useless.

Couldn't you slow him down?

You couldn't keep the pace.

Walk back.

What's going on?

I'm leaving.

Hans put you on

Clairon to test you.

That horse is crazy.

It's a miracle you stuck it out.

Whatever.

Dad?

Dad, are you there?

Go on!

- Go!

- Come on, move!

Go on!

Why are you here?

Not working today?

Afternoon off.

Guys, say hello to my son.

We'll bet on him soon.

Stop it.

- What's that?

- Water.

Give him a beer.

Dad...

C'mon, this round's on me!

To my son, Ethan.

Future champion.

To Ethan.

Thanks, guys.

- I need a smoke.

- I'll come.

No, I'll be back

into two minutes.

They got you good.

I'm fine.

I swung by the garage.

You weren't there.

You work part-time now?

It's quiet.

How much do you owe?

What?

How much do you owe those th*gs?

Not a lot.

How much?

Ten grand...

Plus the car.

sh*t, are you serious?

Don't worry about me.

I need one good race.

Don't be ridiculous.

They're for real.

They'll k*ll you next time.

It's sorted.

You've sorted f*ck all.

Won a lot?

A prick with a tag

won't lecture me.

Stay out of it, and we'll see.

He's back from the dead!

- You good?

- Yeah.

How's your new job?

Mr Jockey.

They dress like

it's the Middle Ages.

What a b*stard.

Gimme a hit.

He's gonna hog it.

We've spotted a 911.

I've already got a buyer.

Wanna help out?

I can't get nicked.

You drive and it'll be fine.

You're a racer, right?

The adrenaline!

You know you're

gonna love it, bro.

Wanna race or not, bro?

- C'mon.

- Go for it!

Don't tempt me, guys.

Let's go.

We're good, bro.

Get in or we'll get caught.

I'm talking to you!

I can't.

What d'you mean, you can't?

f*ck off back to the poshos.

Don't forget,

you'll never be one of them.

You're scum like us.

Your tag beeped yesterday.

Your parole officer called.

I said you were at

the stable next door.

Thanks.

Don't thank me.

I won't cover for you again.

What are they doing?

He's an unbroken yearling.

They're training him.

They're tough, but he'll

eat from their hands tonight.

Don't fall!

Easy over there!

Don't tug off their faces.

This isn't cowboy country!

Softer on the reins, Zo.

Five grams in each hand.

There, that's good.

Tell me...

There's a race in Belgium.

My jockey needs a groom.

Do you get car sick?

Perfect.

Mind the chestnut.

He can be a bugger in the box.

Come on.

Move.

Hold on.

Outta the way.

He's a pain to travel with.

Hold his head.

We'll blindfold him.

What for?

When he can't see, he walks.

There we go.

Look ahead of you.

That's it.

Keep going.

He's in.

Whatever your game,

stay in your lane.

What?

That old bat took five

years to let me race.

You won't get one over me.

If she asks you anything,

act dumb. Got it?

Let go.

Get him ready.

He needs to stretch his legs.

Will you ride him?

You will.

He needs to warm up.

I haven't finished strawing.

Want to do that forever?

Come on, buddy.

Don't mess up.

Come on.

Come on.

That's great.

That's it.

You're doing great.

A bit green, but

his posture's good.

Some take years to master that.

Yeah...

Pity he's a hothead.

If we wanted altar

boys, we'd change jobs.

Is he ready?

Yes. Need anything else?

No. Get lost.

Horses for the eighth

race to the paddock.

Results for the seventh

race are on the board...

Last bend,

but the race is far from over...

Majestic has taken the lead,

followed by Sunny Emperor.

Wild Boy tries his luck outside.

Our three rivals.

The chestnuts, neck and neck,

Mac Night makes his move...

Come on, Lucas!

It's going to be a tight finish.

Last stretch for Majestic,

who's back in the lead.

Go on...

Go on...

Come on!

Come on, Lucas!

Come on.

f*ck.

This race is over!

With Majestic 1st, Wild

Boy 2nd, Sunny Emperor 3rd,

Mac Night 4th, El Guapo 5th...

Everything ok?

Yeah, fine.

Showered and fed.

Now for his blanket.

Good. Here you go.

Well done.

Nice second place...

Thank you.

You watched the race?

Yes.

What did you think?

Could've done better.

How so?

The horse has drive,

but is short of breath.

If he'd held back

to the last bend,

he'd have won.

I'll be back.

Hans...

Who are they?

Your real bosses.

What?

They own half of Duval's horses.

She trains them for

25% of the winnings.

Isn't she rich?

No way.

A stable like hers

costs a pretty penny.

Without their money,

we'd be jobless.

How was Belgium?

Get to ride a bit?

Yeah... I mean,

briefly on the beach.

Cool.

Mel and I are going out.

Wanna come?

- Where?

- The Red Club.

Seriously?

Yeah, why?

That place is full of pigs.

You must be desperate.

It's fine, forget it.

- Did I offend you?

- No.

You're a bad liar.

I'm not, dream on.

f*ck.

- What's wrong?

- I slipped.

- Seriously?

- You keep moving.

f*cking hell...

Very funny.

Hold this a second.

- Good morning.

- Hello.

It's about your tag.

What about it?

Your parole's up.

We're taking it off.

It won't take long.

We're done.

Feeling lighter?

Now you're unshackled,

you'll be able to race.

The steeplechase

next week, want to do it?

Yes.

Perfect. I'll enter you.

Don't gloat, you've

weight to lose.

Happy now? Got what you wanted?

I've trained

years for this race.

- Yeah?

- It was mine.

Too bad.

Are you being smart?

Let's race right now.

See who's fastest.

And risk breaking a bone?

Are you f*cking nuts?

What's up?

You wanna hit me?

Go on, man, do it.

Imagine Duval's face

if you beat up her new jockey.

Don't worry.

I won't hit you.

Here.

You represent me. If

you look like a tr*mp,

they'll think I

mistreat my jockeys.

Careful, it's silk.

Thank you.

Perfect, you can go.

A pound over.

Yes.

61, he's good.

30 minutes to lose 500 g.

Sweat enough and it'll work.

Run as fast as you

can without stopping.

I'll let you have this one.

Good.

What did he want?

None of your business.

Take this.

Listen carefully.

This kind of race

starts in chaos.

Don't panic, stay with the pack.

Before the last

hedge, it'll open up.

Go for it and let the

horse do the rest, got it?

Have you got that?

Yes.

C'mon, pick up.

C'mon, Dad, pick up!

- Hello?

- Dad, you at the bar?

Yeah. I told everyone

you'll be on TV.

They don't believe me.

- A problem?

- No, it's ok.

I think I could win today.

How so?

If I were you, I'd bet on me.

Calm down, it's your first

race. You're at 25 to 1 to lose.

I can't explain now.

Trust me and cough up.

- You're sure?

- Yes, do as I say.

See you later.

Number 1, Feu Follet,

has done well recently.

Number 2, Narval, could

rank again like last year.

Number 5, Galilo,

should also finish...

Under orders.

Guys, it's about to start.

Number 6, Gipsy

King, is promising.

We should also mention Moonwalk

whose commitment is first rate.

This is also the first steeplechase

for number 7, Ethan Bianchi,

on Blue Velvet, this

season's rank outsider.

It'll be a tough first race.

Come on!

He's over.

Ethan's over again!

Come on...

Unbelievable!

At the final bend,

Blue Velvet speeds up even more,

as Bianchi heads

for his first win.

Go for it! Push him!

He turns his head to check.

He isn't dreaming!

His first win!

All three!

All three!

I got all three!

All three in order!

My son!

Starfly 2nd, Feu Follet 3rd,

Gipsy King 4th, and Narval 5th.

Well done.

Here.

Alright?

- Bravo.

- Thanks.

Why the Smurf hair?

Gimme a break.

- Want a drink?

- White wine only.

Two, please.

My treat tonight.

Yeah?

Hey, come on!

- Check it out.

- No way!

No worries.

Now you're a jockey,

you're the boss!

Don't exaggerate.

C'mon, don't play the innocent.

We know Duval's into you.

- Bullshit.

- She is.

That's how it is.

Poshos go for bad boys.

- Stop.

- It's true!

Pretty tacky.

- Know it?

- No.

- You're into this?

- It's a classic.

My mum sang it to me as a kid.

- Come on.

- No.

- You have to.

- No way!

C'mon, you have to.

To pay for this thoroughbred.

Dad invested all he had.

Down to his very last penny.

And the goal he had in mind.

Was to make him a champion.

But after the ditch.

Listen!

Stewball took a fall.

Oh no!

When the veterinarian.

Finished him off with one shot.

I saw my father cry.

For the very first time.

Stewball was a racehorse...

I'm not your type?

I thought you were into girls.

as*h*le.

Shiny Boy is limping.

We mustn't let it

turn into laminitis.

Alright.

If I were you,

I wouldn't show off.

What?

You're mouthing

off since your win.

So? Can't I be happy?

The race was rigged

and you know it.

The other jockeys let you win.

Why would they?

You still don't get it?

It's all about ratings.

A good horse stagnates.

2 to 1 is a sure bet,

but with no gains.

So you make your

horse run more slowly

and hold it back for big races.

If you alone know its worth,

you hit the jackpot.

Trainers can't place bets.

A rigged bet brings in

ten times more than a win.

Without betting, we're dead.

sh*t...

- Why are you here?

- Seen this?

Classy, isn't it?

Yeah.

Come for a ride.

Come on.

You're a pain.

Not eating?

No, I'm not hungry.

This is for you.

You're proposing to me?

Proposing... Cut the crap.

A signet ring, not

an engagement one.

Do you like it?

Yeah, you bet.

Thanks for the tip.

Any others, call me.

I got lucky, that's all.

Lucky?

That'd surprise me.

It's years since

I got all three.

If was a one-off.

If I'm caught, they'll fire me.

No need to cheat.

Just tip me off. Surely

you can do that?

Come on.

Help me, and I'll put

one on every finger.

Lucas.

Where's Ppito?

You don't know?

The vet found a heart murmur.

He's good for cat food now.

Sure. Where is he?

I swear.

The abattoir isn't far.

Hurry if you want

to say goodbye.

Who's this guy?

My horse is inside.

- What?

- Let me get him.

No way!

You want money? Here, take this.

We can't let you in.

The animals stay,

those are the rules.

Screw that.

Piss off somewhere else.

He's crazy.

Where is he? f*ck!

Brought us back a steak?

What the hell?

You think it's funny, huh?

What's going on?

None of that here!

Why didn't you tell me?

About what?

The foal, the abattoir.

Ok, I get it.

Your mates took you for a ride.

What?

He isn't dead?

No, he isn't dead.

We let them grow up

before knifing them.

Your foal's weaned, that's all.

He was sent to

Normandy to bulk up.

Relax.

You're too soft.

If you want a pet,

get a Labrador.

Talent isn't enough in this job.

All that rage inside,

keep it for the track.

You ok?

What happened?

That loan...

Called the cops?

To say I owe dirty money?

Are you stupid?

Likely to be placed?

No idea. Suzanne said nothing.

The race is being watched.

I'm in the sh*t here.

I don't know.

The jockeys seem weak.

Maybe I can try it.

Yeah?

I'll stake it all on you.

There's no other way?

I don't think so.

Number 1, please.

Ready?

- Yes.

- Good.

This one's serious.

You see what I mean?

If the horse is up

to it, go flat out.

Got it.

Hello. Number 5.

Why's he here?

He signed with Van Beck.

Today's key race.

The Empress Prize, a

4.5 km steeplechase.

The hellish weather and

heavy going will play key roles.

We're in for a few surprises.

Number 5, Django,

a frequent winner,

is ridden by Lucas Brunet,

Van Beck stable's new recruit.

He's the favourite,

opposite Ethan Bianchi,

number 7 from the

Duval stable on Shiny Boy.

Wearing green, he's the

outsider in this tough race.

Got anything for me?

Can you pay?

Not so fast.

Go easy, kid!

What the f*ck is this?

Concentrate.

What the f*ck are you doing?

You can't even place a horse.

I'll do it myself. What now?

Get off!

Let go of me.

f*cking let go!

Jokers!

Your behaviour at the

track was unforgivable.

We're suspending your

licence for the rest of the year.

Is that all?

You're lucky.

Without Mrs Duval,

I'd have banned you for life.

What are you doing?

Stop it.

What do a few extra

kilos matter now?

Don't even think about it!

How's it going?

Just the oil to do.

Great.

I'll tell the owner

to come and fetch it.

You ok?

Yeah.

A great start to

tonight's last race.

Number 6 is looking good.

He's a feisty two-year-old.

At the rope, Princess Night

is 2nd, Manganse, 3rd.

First straight.

Past the grandstand

to the second bend.

Number 6 still in the lead.

They're heading to the finish.

Number 6 has fallen off!

The horse threw his

jockey and is off the track.

He was so close to winning.

His frisky reputation

is confirmed.

You've grown.

What did they feed

you in Normandy?

Huh, buddy?

How are you?

He's thrown three

jockeys in a month.

One last chance, then he's out.

Will you see to him?

Yes.

Thank you.

Don't thank me, just be

at the stables tomorrow.

Deal.

Hear that, buddy?

We'll run together.

That's good.

Yeah.

Hey there.

Where are all your pals?

Yes!

Why are you here?

Didn't they fire you?

Don't just stand there.

Lived here long?

Ages now.

After my last accident,

no one wanted me.

There was a job

going here,

so I stayed.

The pay isn't great and

the caravan's a wreck,

but no one pisses me off.

Were you a jockey for long?

Almost 20 years.

I rode every track in France.

I even rode abroad.

Where?

- Liverpool, with the Brits.

- No way!

The Grand National?

How was it?

Steeplechasing is

like Roman games.

The audience comes

to see jockeys fall.

That's why you quit?

No.

My body told me to stop.

I broke so many bones,

I stopped counting.

The time had come.

All this will vanish one day.

In the old days,

horses raced to train for w*r.

What's the sense now?

Enjoy it while you can.

That's it.

That's great.

That's good, buddy.

Got your pony back?

Yeah.

We'll do the Young

Jockey's Grand Prix.

Cool.

Yeah.

How are you doing?

I train the horses now and then,

but mostly clean stalls.

We don't all have your gift.

Stop.

You're a great rider.

You'll get a break one day.

I don't think so.

What happened?

Why is the place so empty?

The Qataris left.

With their horses.

The old woman

nearly wet herself.

To keep this place open,

she needs some wins.

And soon.

What's going on?

Got a ciggie for me?

How's your protg?

He's ready.

Excellent.

Let's show them

what we're made of.

Ready?

Yeah.

Off you go.

59. You're good. Next.

You're good.

Jockeys gather in 30 minutes.

Gentlemen, you

may test the track.

Come on!

sh*t!

What happened?

A tractor on the track.

We nearly hit it.

Forget the race now.

Go ahead.

What're you doing?

Anyone asks, you know nothing.

Are you serious?

Got a better idea?

He recovers and

we try next year.

Certainly not. Next

year will be too late.

The obstacles are huge.

Racing could k*ll him.

k*ll him... Don't exaggerate.

He could end up

butchered.

You know that.

Count me out.

- Sorry?

- Find another jockey.

Are you ok?

Ppito is doped.

I know, I saw.

This Grand Prix

is your big break.

Win and you can ride anywhere.

Suzanne's right.

Horses come and go.

It's the price you pay.

Here.

The horses are in place

for the Young Jockeys' race.

The stewards are

ready for the off...

Win this one, but go easy.

Give it all you've got.

Go for it!

Come on!

Go on, buddy.

Go on, buddy, almost there.

Go!

Great job, buddy.

It's over, you're done.

It's over.

Yeah, I know.

Burley and Sophia Till.