Let the Girls Play (2018) - full transcript
The story of the first all-female soccer team in France, which started as a provocation but became a revolution.
Reims are still in the first division,
a few minutes
before the final whistle.
Reims have held off Saint-Etienne
bravely.
The entire stadium is on tenterhooks.
Saint-Etienne chasing victory.
Jean-Michel Larqué gets the ball,
passes to Révelli,
Révelli avoids the tackle.
He's not off-side, Jodard stripped
him of the ball to escape danger...
Le Champenois, hello?
LE CHAMPENOIS
YOUR REGIONAL DAILY
I don't know if you can sense it,
but the atmosphere here is stifling
for this last-chance match for Reims.
Saint-Etienne
are increasingly dominating...
We've had it for sure.
Wait, Reims has the break.
Janvier dribbles it,
into the area, he shoots...
Oh, just wide of the post!
What a missed opportunity
for Reims!
On the bench, Reims'
legendary coach Michel Leroux...
EDITOR
Bereta attacks, he crosses the ball.
Herbin's on his own in the penalty box...
Please sign this before you leave, sir.
Leroux is playing with fire.
This time Reims dodged a bullet...
Is there a problem, Emmanuelle?
Yes.
There's no-one to take care
of the charity fête with me.
The fête?
We'll draw lots, as usual.
You can go now.
Leroux refuses
to play it safe with a second to go...
Reims in danger
as Révelli goes long...
What a dribbler!
He eludes the defenders, enters the area.
He's alone against the keeper.
He shoots, and he scores!
It's a goal!
And there's the final whistle.
It's all over in the last second.
Reims are in Division Two
for the first time in their history.
We'll do four pages,
interviews with the players,
the Mayor
and a disgruntled supporter.
Headline: "Black Day for Reims".
Even better:
"Apocalypse at the Stadium!"
Very good, sir.
Call an editorial meeting.
Who's at the ground?
Paul Coutard.
Oh, no, not him!
You've got something special.
You remind me of a Beatles song...
Know the Beatles, Chantal?
Sylvie.
Sylvie...
Sylvie, Chantal... They're both cute.
Paul, I'm working, as are you.
I meant to call you, but I've been
so busy, so many stories...
Where were you?
The press conference is starting!
Duty calls, baby.
- Don't you ever stop?
- Pretty girls are everywhere.
Haven't you noticed?
How long you been with your wife?
Ten years.
- Ten years! Why?
- I love her.
- Out of the way.
- Hey, take it easy!
Reims in Division Two.
What can you tell us?
It's a tough blow for the team.
It was a tricky season.
But...
Excuse me.
Paul Coutard, Le Champenois.
Have you made personal mistakes
in running the club?
You won't rile me, Coutard.
Can I quote you on that?
I took this club to the top.
And I will again.
I'll do all I can to make sure
Reims is promoted again.
Isn't it time to make way
for a younger man?
How many young men have won
six straight Championships?
Maybe you should give them a chance.
People like who?
Like you?
I reckon I'm capable
of getting a club relegated!
Gentlemen, the conference is over.
I didn't come here to be insulted.
- Wait...
- Leroux, Leroux, Leroux, Leroux!
You didn't finish my interview!
Leroux!
I'm going to the States, chum.
They have real investigative
reporters there.
- I've got friends in Rio.
- Ah, Rio!
It sounds great, the Carnival and all.
I'd like to go there with my wife.
With your wife?
You have to go alone!
You don't take bread
to the baker's!
Leroux called me.
He wants your head.
So you'll apologise publicly.
No.
You will apologise.
I never take back what I say.
- It's a matter of principle.
- Fine.
Richard will take your place.
You'll make corrections to his articles.
This is serious.
It's an attack on press freedom.
Right.
And as I'm not paying you to do nothing,
you can take care of the fête.
No.
Not that. I resign.
When you've repaid
the 3-month advance we gave you.
To find out what to do,
ask Emmanuelle Bruno.
Emmanuel? Who's he?
Emmanuelle.
My secretary for the last 5 years.
Oh, yes. Emmanuelle.
I thought it was Emmanuel.
Out.
Oh, Luigi, how are you?
Before, they were real men.
They loved the club.
It wouldn't have happened.
But now...
The great Reims is over.
It makes me sad.
- Not eating?
- No.
You'd rather have died
than be in the second division.
OK, but...
Don't get so upset,
it's only football.
It's shameful.
We'll be late for bridge.
Oh, no, not tonight.
It'll relax you.
It won't,
and I've an early start tomorrow.
OK.
Remember to let Luigi out for a pee.
- Have a good evening.
- I'll miss you.
Same here.
You agree with me, don't you?
Eh, Luigi?
You're deaf anyway.
So, this fête.
What's it all about?
The main thing
is to find an attraction.
What was it last time?
The Little Singers of Paris.
Rubbish. Outdated.
A rock concert's better.
Can we get Johnny Hallyday?
Johnny Hallyday?
He's totally naff.
He'll be forgotten in a year.
What about the year before?
Midgets wrestling.
That's funny.
- How was it?
- It was midgets wrestling.
Yes, but how was it?
It was...
You can do loads with midgets.
Mini basketball,
mini football.
Goals about 4 feet high, right?
We'll get two teams of midgets
and have a match.
What do you think, Lambert?
I prefer a dance.
That won't work.
We'll need around ten midgets.
Two teams of five-a-side.
But I don't know where to find them.
It's all Leroux's fault.
He can't stand the truth.
He's old.
Outdated. A has-been.
Sorry, but I don't agree.
Pardon?
Leroux doesn't deserve that.
Is your husband a fan of his?
I'm not married.
You like football?
- You, Emmanuelle?
- Why not?
Lots of women play.
In Italy they have
a top women's team.
A national women's team?
I don't believe it.
That's not bad.
For the fête! That's what we'll do.
Brilliant!
Ladies and gentlemen,
we'll have a women's football match.
The Editor won't like it.
Write this down.
"As part of Le Champenois'
annual fête,
"we are seeking...
"women football players..."
Women!
"Any age, any ability."
No, we'll limit the age,
I don't like oldies.
Put an age limit of 40.
And get it printed. Hurry up.
You're nuts.
You need to consult a psy.
A women's football team!
Women, Lambert!
Women...
My father loved football.
He took me to matches
every week when I was little.
I caught the bug.
It's for him.
That's good.
I spend a lot of time at home,
but that's OK.
I like it, but I'd like to meet
new friends.
Girlfriends, that is.
I like tackling, running.
I like groups.
I like shooting.
Shooting?
- At goal.
- That's a relief.
Are you listening?
Yes, sorry. Football...
Are you writing it down?
Of course.
You're doodling.
Not at all.
She didn't want to come.
We kind of made her come.
She's quiet, but gifted.
- What music d'you like?
- Rock'n'roll.
- What kind?
- The Beatles.
They're finished.
- Can I see?
- Look... Catherine.
Nicole.
The kids are grown, I'm bored.
I played handball as a kid.
I could've been a pro
but I wanted a family.
Why doesn't she speak?
Eh, darling?
Are you afraid?
The Beatles breaking up?
Rubbish. The day that happens,
I'll quit journalism.
You want us to play midgets.
Midgets!
What kind of women
are you looking for?
The kind who shoot at goal.
Then I'm your woman!
And not at people.
Midgets against midgets,
that's funny.
But not women against midgets.
I have all the appliances:
a washing machine,
an oven...
You like football, darling?
Your brothers say you really boot it.
Does she speak English?
My mother and I are feminists.
We fight chauvinism.
What does your husband
think about it?
He's my biggest fan.
He'll give his permission.
Permission?
No problem.
If I had one,
he'd sign or I'd break his arms.
You need the husbands' permission.
Permission, of course.
You mean my husband
has to sign a paper so I can play?
I have no husband.
And I don't want one.
So you think a woman
can do anything?
And a man can have a blow-dry.
It's natural.
You want to join my football team?
Yes.
Then smile a bit.
Life is beautiful.
Even when you're working
in the fields.
We're well prepared
and highly motivated.
I hope you are too.
Nicole. See? I remembered.
My mother said
I'd have an unusual life.
Not like hers at the dry-cleaner's.
What's in store for us local girls?
Hairdresser, factory worker,
a teacher at best.
Yeah.
I don't know much about football,
but I like athletics.
I'm in a club.
Athletics keep you fit,
don't you think?
Jeanne... May I call you Jeanne?
Have you ever played team sports?
Never.
This would be the first time.
It'll be a first...
for us all.
Will you be the coach?
I will indeed.
You'll have to listen to me.
Miss Simon, sorry.
It was a pleasure.
Really.
See you soon.
A women's football team.
If my wife finds out, she'll kill me.
Women need their husbands'
permission to play.
Can you take care of it?
I put you on the list,
as you like football.
Plus it was your idea.
So be at the dirt pitch,
tomorrow at 10.
What an idiot.
It will all come back on me.
If he bothers you,
I'll shake him up a bit.
Know what he's planning
for the fête?
A women's football match.
- No, he's really doing it.
- Really?
He even signed me up.
Are you gonna do it?
No. He's doing it for a joke.
I don't like it.
What's his name?
- Coutard.
- Coutard.
Want me to talk to him?
No.
That's kind, but I'm a big girl now.
Just say the word
and I'll twist his neck like this.
Good evening.
Nice place you've got.
Do you live alone?
Got a girlfriend?
Do you have a boyfriend?
Let's say I have a few.
A few? How many?
At the athletics club, right?
No.
I prefer older men.
Mature men.
With experience.
They're all kids there.
Mind you,
I've got lots of girlfriends.
That's how you learn.
What do you learn?
In the changing rooms, just us...
If we want to pleasure
each other, we do.
Sure.
No harm in it.
Don't you want to kiss me?
No. This isn't normal.
Normally, I do that.
You come here, jump on me,
telling me saucy things.
Look, sit down.
Let's start again.
I've always thought
you had something special.
Different.
You remind me
of a Beatles song I love.
Do you know Dear Prudence?
Sorry, but are we going to play
on this?
It's not very practical.
Look, a bit of dust
never hurt anyone.
We're here to play sport.
So what now?
Sorry?
What do we do?
What do we do...
Warm up.
What?
Warm up.
We could start running
while you're deciding.
Running, good idea.
Good initiative.
Everyone do 5 circuits,
and don't cut the corners.
I'll be watching you.
Off you go!
Sexy is not the word.
I'm scared the old bird'll snuff it.
I told you.
Good, Raymonde! Go!
Never mind!
Getting there's what counts!
That was a good run.
But as we're going to play football,
you need to play football.
It'll bring people pleasure.
So I thought we'd practise dribbling.
I need a volunteer.
Murielle.
Nicole.
Whatever.
Come here, Murielle.
Nicole.
Right.
Nicole,
I'll dribble
and you try to get the ball.
Are you ready? OK.
Here we go.
This is Leroux's pitch.
Let him try and stop us.
- He's right, we're trespassing.
- Get dribbling, come on.
We're not allowed.
We can't be here!
It's illegal!
Let's go back.
Go and join the others.
No. It's provocation.
Can you help me clean my shoes?
Nicole's got skill.
She can kick a ball, big deal.
She plays well.
I'm responsible for the fête, too.
You're wearing me out.
You're tiresome.
Well, you're...
impudent.
I'm what?
Impudent.
Who are they?
Leroux's juniors.
- You're on our pitch.
- Hello to you, too.
Delighted.
Go home, girls, this is our pitch.
We were here first.
What's she on about?
We're the juniors!
Can you read a shirt
or just wash it?
Do you want a smack?
Calm down, everyone.
Juniors, women...
Who are you?
Their coach?
No way! A coach for girls!
You're a coachess!
Nice outfit.
Is there a men's version?
Hold me back, Lambert!
We're going back.
Listen to four-eyes.
You mean me?
Calm down, they're kids.
Wait. You want the pitch?
We'll play you for it.
- No.
- There.
- The winner stays here.
- You little sods!
Look out, Granny's upset!
You bet she is!
Forget it.
Maybe your balls haven't dropped.
Or maybe they don't have any.
OK, you asked for it.
We'll slaughter you.
We're really scared!
They're rude to boot.
Come on!
We're here.
Wait...
The first!
It's OK, girls.
Get back to your side!
You were hesitant,
so there's no defence.
- Why were you doing this?
- It stops them getting through.
Come on, girls! You're the best!
Get with it, blondie!
The second!
No more goals!
- Not one!
- She's right!
Pass!
- They're doing well.
- Pardon?
I've had it. I've had it.
I've had it.
I'm not sure about Raymonde.
Come here, Raymonde.
- I can go on.
- No, you're doing well for your age.
We're gonna win!
You're dehydrated.
You go on.
Me?
Do you see anyone else?
Lambert.
Come on, let's go.
Play! What are you doing?
Play!
Get going!
Go on!
She's great!
Very good, Emmanuelle! Good!
Good footwork.
So, shall we take
these kids down?
It's only a match!
What are they playing at?
Wait!
So much for slaughtering us!
Gonna wash our shirts now?
So,
who are the chicks now?
Public affray.
Fighting women, it's shameful.
Some of them pack a punch.
They're not real women.
They humiliated you!
They started it!
Want me to tell your dad?
- Shut up!
- Shut up?
They started it!
- It's our pitch!
- Is Leroux's name on it?
- On the gate?
- Commissioner.
You, Coutard.
Yes?
What were you doing
on Reims' pitch with those women?
We're training for a footballing gala
with women.
It's for a fête.
The husbands have agreed.
Are you drunk?
No, I'm not.
Women's football!
Are you making fun of me?
- Can they play or not?
- The one with the glasses can.
I never saw a girl play like her.
She beat us on her own.
What about the Bardot lookalike?
Not great, but she's a looker.
"Not great, but she's a looker."
Want me to tell your dad?
Stop that.
What the hell's going on, Victor?
They fought with women
and these two guys.
Why were they on my pitch?
According to the inquiry,
they were playing on the council pitch.
They train girls now?
They challenged the juniors.
And beat them.
You're a loser, Leroux.
You might knock.
Don't start.
I've got a great idea.
You'll like it.
It's a brilliant idea.
I'm going to found
the first women's football team in Reims!
You have golden feet.
With your talent
and my business acumen,
we'll go far.
It'll be great!
It was humiliating.
But you blew them away!
Don't ruin it now.
What, a bunch of girls in a fête?
Forget about the fête!
No. We were asked to do it.
And a proper team takes work,
money, investment.
We need boots, kit,
a bus, matches to play.
Right now we have nothing.
I'll take care of all that.
You play.
Get warmed up, it's as good as done.
Yes.
No. Not basketball, no.
Football.
We're playing all over Champagne.
More potential customers will see us,
and see you.
That's right.
Women playing football.
How much will it cost?
39,000 francs.
Hello?
- It's the future, sir.
- Forget it.
Hello...
Football shirts
on women isn't right.
It's just not done.
Old francs?
- Well?
- Not now.
You're a comedian!
Money first.
I'm Paul Coutard, a journalist
for Le Champenois.
Hello? Hello?
How about something cheaper?
We'll try Epernay town hall...
Pleasure doing business with you.
You little virgin.
No, football.
Football, as in the sport.
Women playing football.
No, it's not a joke.
I know it sounds funny, but...
It's not a joke, no.
Are you interested or not?
No? Then I'll stop wasting your time.
Thanks. Bye.
Are you free on the 25th at 10?
Yes.
No, we haven't moved.
Same address.
Emmanuelle!
I got it for you!
Come on!
Get down here!
- Make an effort, Raymonde!
- I'm useless at this!
At football too.
We're gonna train.
Put a bit there.
Pink...
Get a move on, Baby.
"Baby"? I like it!
It's a bit much.
They'll think we're stoned.
Is Granny shocked?
"Granny"? I'm off.
It's funny.
It's horrible!
Mind you don't splash yourself,
Butterfly.
Nini the Compressor!
What about me?
The Bulldozer.
Not the Bulldozer!
Come on, we've got work to do.
Aye-aye, Cap'n!
Captain!
We're like flowers in spiky shoes.
Spiky flowers!
Good one!
Should we help?
Don't be so macho!
Give them their creative freedom.
They're in control.
Don't play around with the girls.
Absolutely not.
A coach doesn't get involved
with his men...
women.
And I wasn't flirting.
I was working out a strategy.
Strategy? What strategy?
Who are you kidding?
As you seem not to appreciate
the publicity we're offering,
here's an example
of our commercial potential.
Jeanne, if you please.
Did you design the shirt, Béatrice?
Sure it's not too tight?
Do you feel comfortable, miss?
Yes.
See how your name stands out.
I can see it very well.
They're fine, Béatrice.
Just a bit short.
It's the standard length.
I didn't choose it.
- I like it very much.
- Not very flattering for the thighs.
I love it.
- I bet it's machine-washable.
- Thanks, girls, I'm really proud...
To your places, girls.
Come on.
Tallest behind?
That's right.
Béatrice behind.
That's good.
Small ones in front. Good.
You look terrific.
And I've taken a few.
Nini,
I need you to smile.
Uncross your arms, Nini,
we can show off too.
Emmanuelle, how long d'you need
to get changed?
It's nothing like a football kit.
Hello?
It's 1969, mini-skirts and all that.
Don't keep us hanging around,
Butterfly!
Oh!
Why hide?
You're hot, Butterfly!
Emmanuelle, next to Jeanne.
Wow, Emmanuelle's a dark horse.
- Take the photo.
- Right.
OK, keep still.
One...
Two...
Hey, girls, boots and boobs!
Three!
Perfect.
One more.
Wassy... Wassy... Where's Wassy?
320,000 kilometers on the clock!
It's been round the block
more than Raymonde.
Where've they got to?
I'll find out.
Girls, we're gonna be late
for our first match. Wassy won't wait.
What's going on?
Girls!
Francine's not here.
You women
can't keep to a schedule!
Her husband stopped her.
We got his permission, no?
Yes.
But it wasn't signed by him.
Then who did sign it, Emmanuelle?
We'll go and get her.
No. She tried to be clever.
We're going, that's an order.
- She had no choice.
- She chose her husband.
- It's true.
- Don't you start!
- She's just a substitute.
- Baby, we'll put you in the corner!
We're not leaving anyone behind.
I'm taking all the risks here!
You are all irresponsible.
I say we're going, so let's go!
Right, I don't care.
I can play football anytime.
Take the kids outside.
No, no, no. Come on.
They're cute.
Are you married?
No.
But you like women?
It's not what you think.
What we're doing
is morally irreproachable.
Would you let your wife parade
in shorts in front of people?
No.
Well, then?
Your wife is an excellent player.
She has golden feet.
I taught her to play.
She gets by, that's all.
These girls
are pioneers
who will change mentalities.
Do I look like a feminist?
What would you say...
to 500 francs?
1,000.
800?
1,000.
1,000?
Boots and boobs on grass
Dribbling and tackling
When Butterfly scores
There's no stopping us
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs on grass
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs on grass
The ball hits the net
A goal by Nini
The striker who never tires
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs on grass
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs...
The coach is back!
With Auntie Francine!
How did you do it?
I changed mentalities, that's how.
Auntie!
Welcome to the team!
Auntie's here!
Auntie's here!
HOME 0
VISITORS 1
Who's he?
Raymonde's husband.
He's quite a fan.
Go, Raymonde!
- They're in trouble.
- No, they're doing well.
- They might get hurt.
- They won't break!
Look!
Goal!
STUDS ON THE BRAIN
I've decided.
We're changing formation.
You'll be closer to Emmanuelle.
Oh, yes!
Let's get closer!
We'll up the training.
Twice a week, minimum.
Coutard.
What are you doing on my pitch?
You don't work Sundays but I do.
I'm busy.
So, Leroux.
How's it feel to see a winning team?
Are you taking notes?
That's good, girls!
I took out two defenders.
They never saw me coming.
That's good.
I'm glad you're having fun.
Sometimes I play number 10.
It's more even in 4-3-3.
Know what?
I think Coutard
finally understands...
Is he bothering you?
Otherwise...
Yes.
And you know Nini?
She's a little amateurish,
but I can knock her into shape.
As for the Bulldozer...
You don't want to cross her.
And Jeanne.
She runs like an antelope.
Take it easy! Easy!
Come on, Jeanne.
A photo.
I'm her coach.
Emmanuelle!
Take it easy.
Let's get on the bus.
In my day we had real singers:
Ferrat, Ferré, not like today!
Adamo is cute.
He's always crying!
- What do you think of the coach?
- Not my type.
Just like men in general!
He's too sure of himself.
And as for his hair!
He's not bad for a one-night stand.
Granny!
I don't mean for me.
I meant in general.
Relax, Butterfly.
Unclench your cheeks.
My what?
- Good luck with that!
- It's makeover time.
Take off those glasses.
I can't see! Stop it!
It's pointless!
Butterfly!
Get in there!
Make her foul you!
Behind you!
Mr Coutard, you ignored my warnings.
This is for you.
Here's what I think of your notice.
There.
Butterfly!
What is it?
Well, here we are.
Yes.
Looks like home.
- Thanks a lot.
- You're welcome.
Wait, I'll help you.
- No need.
- Yes, there is.
It's just a sprain.
I insist. I really do.
I'll be fine.
Don't say that.
- Come on.
- Thanks, but I can manage.
Don't get wet.
Careful.
Let me take you to the door.
- I'm here now.
- No, I won't let you fall.
I won't let you go
till you're safely on the sofa.
I'm a gentleman...
And you are?
Good evening.
I'm Paul Coutard.
I guessed from your outfit.
Thanks.
- What happened, darling?
- It's nothing, Dad.
What's he doing here?
He brought me home.
He's going.
You bet he is.
He looks ridiculous.
I love Italian. It's so warm.
In my day, you'd have been fit
only to clean my boots.
The language of love!
Do you make them play
against wild animals?
Casado.
I'll get some ice.
Wait.
Your face is familiar.
Have we met before?
At the barber's?
No, I know you.
You're Giacamo Bruno.
That's me.
I'm your number-one fan!
I've put on weight.
You were unbeatable!
You were a wall!
We called him the Butcher of Puglia!
The Butcher of Puglia!
Your name's Bruno,
I should've known.
I haven't been called that
in a long time.
I'm a gran admirador.
That's Spanish.
That's June 13, 1956
at the Parc des Princes.
The European Cup Final
against Real Madrid.
- We lost 4-3.
- You should've won.
- You were marking Di Stefano.
- Emmanuelle cried for a long time.
Look at that!
That's me with Leroux.
He was young and handsome.
- You like him?
- He was my coach for ten years.
He was like an angry lion.
He listened to no-one.
The Federation was mad.
- He's changed a lot.
- What d'you expect?
We've all changed.
Look at Emmanuelle: as a kid,
she played football every day.
Her mother scolded her
for neglecting her homework.
We had matches in the back garden.
When I let her win,
she was so happy.
Look at that smile.
I recognise the smile.
- You let me win?
- What do you think?
You thought you could beat
the Butcher of Puglia?
Oh, yes.
The European Cup Final
against Nîmes.
I remember...
I twisted my knee after 5 minutes.
I wanted to stop, but Leroux said:
"You have to stay on."
So I stayed on.
A great match.
It hurts.
You look good without glasses.
Oh, yes,
I took them off.
It's easier to play without them.
It's very pretty. It's...
Your face is more...
Oh, I didn't show you this.
It's a photo
of the women's team in Italy.
The best team in Europe.
Had Dad stayed,
I could've played for them.
You'll do better.
You'll play here.
It wasn't a good start.
We'll change our tactics,
do like the Italians.
We'll get proper licences.
Then we can have grounds,
championships.
We'll have loads of other girls
following us.
We'll change mentalities.
Mark my words.
We'll change mentalities.
French national team.
It'll be child's play.
Sorry, your wife can't come in.
She's my best player.
Whatever her status,
she can't come in.
No need. It'll be a formality.
Is my hair OK?
Take a seat.
Mr Coutard, we've looked closely
at your application.
I'm afraid we can't agree
to your request.
I haven't spoken yet.
What do you have to say?
I don't know. Why no? It's unfair.
Let's not waste time.
Reims' only club is the Stade.
There'll never be another.
- Especially not a women's one.
- It's personal.
Absolutely.
I've nothing against the girls.
The meeting's over.
Wait. Leroux.
You've seen them play.
Tell them they deserve it!
There can't be women footballers.
They don't exist.
Fine.
I'm not moving
until I get my licence.
You don't know
who you're throwing out.
Remember my name:
Paul Coutard!
With a D at the end.
- What happened?
- We didn't get it, that's what.
- Did they say why?
- Ask your idol Leroux.
Leroux's here?
He voted no?
It's an institution...
Emmanuelle! What...
Emmanuelle!
You think it's funny?
You think we're funny?
What do you care
if we play football?
What are you afraid of?
Women all over Europe play.
Italy, England, Holland, Ireland,
all have licences.
It's a right, even for children.
You decide who gets to play
from behind your desks?
None of you can dribble like me.
You haven't seen a pitch in 30 years.
And you, Leroux.
As a younger man,
you'd never have sided
with these paunches in 3-piece suits.
3-piece suits are so outdated.
"I, Paul Coutard..."
And Emmanuelle Bruno.
"...and Emmanuelle Bruno accuse
"the Federation bosses
in their comfortable armchairs
"of deciding arbitrarily on the right
of women to play football;
"of denying them
the most basic of rights:
"the right to exist."
Even as amateurs!
That's good.
"Even as amateurs."
"Yet, when a woman
is injured on the pitch,
"is her blood not as red
"as that of a man?"
OK, that's a bit...
"We have a dream:
"that one summer's day,
a little girl may go to the stadium
"to cheer on her mother
"who is playing
"football."
Like it?
I like it.
Me too.
I like it too.
You type well.
"It's time to crush
"century upon century
of patriarchal society..."
HEXAGONALES
The current-affairs programme
TODAY: WOMEN FOOTBALLERS?
After the demotion of Reims
to Division Two,
another football-related story
is shaking up Champagne's capital:
its women's football team.
I'm Paul Coutard.
I put the team together.
They play better than most men.
Even better
than the current Reims team!
Please film them as they train.
Can you put it back on me?
Everywhere else,
women can get a licence.
In Italy, not so far away,
not across the Atlantic.
In Italy, women can play football
happily.
In our country, they can't.
Liberty, equality, fraternity?
Don't make me laugh!
I'm Paul Coutard for Le Champenois,
the team coach.
A fringe team,
but not without its supporters.
Why shouldn't they play?
Yes.
Why not give them a licence?
Things have to change.
No more washtubs.
The future is hope, joy,
self-development.
It's time men understood that.
Boots and boobs on grass
Dribbling and tackling
When Butterfly scores
There's no stopping us
Boots and boobs
Boots and boobs on grass
Boots and boobs!
They say football's a men's game.
Do you feel feminine?
I wear court shoes and football boots.
And I paint my nails.
What does your husband think
when you can't do the housework?
Does it cause tension?
Not at all.
My husband loves ironing.
Are you late for meetings?
Do you spend hours on the phone?
Do you have hot flushes?
We'll fight to the end
for our right
to play football like men.
We're occupying the ground
so as not to be bullied by men.
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs!
It's a declaration of war.
My own wife said she wants to play.
Elise? Elise wants to play football?
What about the ironing?
The children?
Let's be clear.
No women's football.
It's an outrage.
If you look at it rationally...
Rationally?
Put your own house in order.
A shame to languish in Division Two.
Women's bodies aren't suited to football.
It's damaging to the reproductive organs.
During periods,
the ligaments are more fragile.
Clearly, women have a right
to play team sports.
But I recommend
synchronised swimming.
A decent family doesn't parade
its daughter in front of men.
I'm sure some girls
find it exciting,
but I condemn it.
Men can always
go and see strippers.
I don't like it.
It'll cause a scandal.
You know I'm on your side,
but Coutard is using you.
Why mention him?
You think I can't cope alone?
You don't like me
playing football in public
instead of in the garden.
I just want to protect you.
I'm a big girl, Dad.
It isn't football any more.
It'd be easier if I was a boy.
No, darling...
WOMEN AT HOME
MEN ON THE PITCH
OUR HUSBANDS
ARE NOT SPECTATORS
It's ridiculous!
Even Women's Lib are against us!
The Federation thing ruined it.
It wasn't very...
Trust me.
Whatever they say about us,
at least they're talking about us.
We're risking our jobs here.
Your licence idea was shit.
We're fighting for recognition.
You're too selfish to see.
She's right.
We have to fight
against male chauvinism.
You're pissing us off
with your male chauvinism.
Yes, it's a bit of a pain.
We're wasting time.
Let's fight our way out.
You and whose army?
I get insulted in the street.
Wear a longer skirt, then.
It seems we won't be playing today.
Gather your things
and smile at your admirers.
We've nothing to be ashamed of.
- When will I see you?
- You're seeing me.
Look, right now it's...
Anyway, it was never a good idea.
You know that.
It's better we stop now.
For your sake.
Really.
Come on!
He's using you!
Mr Coutard,
I was asked to contact you.
My boss Mr Robert
has an offer to make you.
No comment.
No comment.
Let me through.
Excuse me.
I'll expect your call.
Patrick is the brand. Mr Robert.
He'll expect your call.
Who is this guy?
If I told you,
it wouldn't be a surprise.
- Hello, Paul.
- Hello.
Raymond Robert,
marketing director for Patrick.
The brand.
Thanks for coming, Miss Bruno.
It's an honour to meet you.
It's mutual.
We've followed your story
in the media
and we like it.
We'd like to offer you
a partnership with Patrick...
The brand.
...to create the first
women's football championship.
Marvellous, isn't it?
The Federation won't agree.
They'll be faced
with a fait accompli.
You'll get your licence.
That's not all. Tell her, Raymond.
A new sport needs a star.
We thought of you.
We've seen you on TV.
You are...
exceptional.
What do you think?
Paul wanted your agreement first.
OK.
Let's drink to that!
We have to tell the girls.
To the first
women's football championship!
Paul Coutard always succeeds.
I liked the shape
but not the colour.
Yes, but...
Thank you all for coming
to this exclusive event.
Patrick is proud to present...
Where's Baby?
She'll miss her moment of glory.
Let me introduce the man
who made it possible.
A visionary: Paul Coutard!
Thank you, but what matters
in football is the team.
Please give a big hand
to Reims Women's Club.
A team is nothing
without its star player.
The attacker who will soon
be the envy of Europe.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Emmanuelle Bruno.
Miss Bruno!
Could I have a smile?
Bravo.
Coutard!
MY SECRET AFFAIR WITH MY COACH
I saw it coming.
Let me explain...
That too.
Wait...
Bastard!
Wait, I can explain...
I promise you...
- My wife's gone.
- I'm sorry, old son.
No, she just went to her mother's.
She does it all the time
when she's angry.
It's a bit of a holiday for me.
Come in.
It's OK being single.
I'm truly sorry, Lambert.
So you should be!
You were a total idiot.
All the same,
Jeanne really laid into you!
I didn't laugh at the time, but...
She was right.
I got what I deserved.
That's true.
I've ruined everything.
That's you all over.
Always ducking out.
Always hiding from things.
You love Emmanuelle.
I saw it from the start.
Always ducking out
at the crucial moment.
Think I should tell her?
I'm not sure that will be enough.
No...
You have to prove you love her.
How?
How?
How indeed.
How!
How, yes...
Let me think.
Just a minute...
How...
How...
Lambert?
How...
Lambert!
I'm off.
Remember to lock up
when you leave.
What are you doing?
Changing mentalities.
That's what I'm doing.
Go for it, sonny.
Get down! Come on!
You pervert! Get down!
Nicole!
Wait for me!
Giacomo!
Want me to kill you?
We have to talk.
Emmanuelle cried.
She never cries.
She did?
I'll kill you!
OK. But I want to talk first.
To you.
To the Butcher of Puglia.
Come in.
Thanks.
Go on!
Yes?
A friend of yours, Giacomo Bruno,
wants to see you.
Giac! Show him in.
Come in.
Permesso...
I'm so happy to see you!
- It's been a long time.
- Too long. You look great.
Come on.
What are you doing with him?
I know, he's an idiot.
First of all,
I'm sorry for how I behaved.
Now you're sorry?
If you'd helped us...
It's not my fault.
That's enough!
Listen to the plan.
Come and sit down.
Well?
We want to open the season
at the stadium with women's football.
That's just an advance.
It's not a question of money.
You're losing attendance.
You're in Division 2.
I'm offering you great publicity.
The media will be all over it.
Everyone will boo me.
I'm The Pervert.
Remember my daughter?
Yes. She's a pain, too.
Who'll they play? Nuns?
No.
The Italians.
The best club in Europe.
That's a national team.
They'll never play your girls.
My girls, no.
But the French team, yes.
There isn't one!
Yes, there is: us.
The Federation will have to recognise us.
The girls get their licence
and you screw the Federation, as before.
So, what do you say?
Is this a joke?
It is a joke!
It's not a joke.
Hello, everyone,
and welcome to the Stade Delaune
for this match between
the Stade de Reims and Dunkirk.
Welcome to this first match
in the Second Division.
How will Reims react to
the huge disappointment of last season?
It's a big challenge
for Michel Leroux.
But first we're going to see a match
between French and Italian women.
Yes, you heard me right, listeners,
women's football. Whatever next?
Nevertheless, the stadium is full.
This match has attracted
the kind of crowd
normally seen at major events.
This is going to be a unique match.
The excitement here is palpable,
though we might legitimately ask...
How about a little game?
I won't let you miss this opportunity.
If I win, you play.
- I'm not a kid anymore.
- Chickening out?
Best of five goals, like before.
And if you lose?
You do as you want.
This time I won't let you win.
Shame!
- Does it hurt?
- A bit.
Want to play dirty, eh?
What do you mean?
I'll show you.
Had enough, Dad?
Again.
I won! You did well, bravo.
OK, you won.
If you don't want to play, don't.
Do as you want.
It's your life.
Ah, hello, gentlemen.
What brings you here from Paris?
You know very well.
The French women's team.
They're playing football.
What's the problem?
You're doing things backwards.
You have to obey the rules.
This team has usurped its status.
Kick-off's in ten minutes.
Look at the crowd.
People want to see them.
Don't be a fool, Leroux.
We're stopping the match.
Their changing room
is last on the right.
Good day to you.
Short strides, boys.
She's not coming, is she?
Yes, she is.
We're not dependent on her.
Without her, we've no chance.
I'm off.
So am I.
Me too.
You're giving up?
He's talking rubbish as usual.
I'm your coach.
I know we can win, with or...
He's told you we don't support
women's football.
Not true.
But an illegal match
in front of lecherous men
is less than you deserve.
This document proves our good faith.
Sign it and you'll have your licence.
However, there are two conditions:
that this match be abandoned,
and that Mr Coutard be dismissed
immediately.
Sign it.
You won.
Good decision, Coutard.
I'm not signing.
I came to play a match.
We're not chickening out.
Maybe we'll lose.
But at least we'll have tried.
If we sign, they win.
We're pioneers, right?
Then let's follow through.
We'll get a licence.
I don't know when, but we will.
Without conditions.
And our coach...
stays.
He may not be the best,
but he's ours.
Who are we?
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs.
The Italians will humiliate you.
You'll be a laughing stock.
Want to bet?
Women: the more I see of them,
the less I understand them.
Captain...
Coco...
Granny, Bulldozer!
Auntie! Go, girls!
Believe!
Emmanuelle, I wanted to...
About the...
I wanted to...
Because...
I've thought
about the tactics for this match.
I'll take care of it.
You'll take...
Great.
Good luck.
Ladies and gentlemen,
here she is, Emmanuelle Bruno!
Is my hair OK?
You never looked better.
Go, girls! Go, girls!
I told you it'd be a success.
Come on.
Ready?
Look out, girls.
One, two...
three!
On March 29, 1970,
the French Football Federation
was forced to recognise
women's football in France.
The first official match
of the French women's team
took place on April 17, 1971
against Holland.
In 1974, the first women's football
championship took place.
Reims won the first four competitions.
The French Football Federation
now has over 160,000
registered female players.
Subtitling TITRAFILM
a few minutes
before the final whistle.
Reims have held off Saint-Etienne
bravely.
The entire stadium is on tenterhooks.
Saint-Etienne chasing victory.
Jean-Michel Larqué gets the ball,
passes to Révelli,
Révelli avoids the tackle.
He's not off-side, Jodard stripped
him of the ball to escape danger...
Le Champenois, hello?
LE CHAMPENOIS
YOUR REGIONAL DAILY
I don't know if you can sense it,
but the atmosphere here is stifling
for this last-chance match for Reims.
Saint-Etienne
are increasingly dominating...
We've had it for sure.
Wait, Reims has the break.
Janvier dribbles it,
into the area, he shoots...
Oh, just wide of the post!
What a missed opportunity
for Reims!
On the bench, Reims'
legendary coach Michel Leroux...
EDITOR
Bereta attacks, he crosses the ball.
Herbin's on his own in the penalty box...
Please sign this before you leave, sir.
Leroux is playing with fire.
This time Reims dodged a bullet...
Is there a problem, Emmanuelle?
Yes.
There's no-one to take care
of the charity fête with me.
The fête?
We'll draw lots, as usual.
You can go now.
Leroux refuses
to play it safe with a second to go...
Reims in danger
as Révelli goes long...
What a dribbler!
He eludes the defenders, enters the area.
He's alone against the keeper.
He shoots, and he scores!
It's a goal!
And there's the final whistle.
It's all over in the last second.
Reims are in Division Two
for the first time in their history.
We'll do four pages,
interviews with the players,
the Mayor
and a disgruntled supporter.
Headline: "Black Day for Reims".
Even better:
"Apocalypse at the Stadium!"
Very good, sir.
Call an editorial meeting.
Who's at the ground?
Paul Coutard.
Oh, no, not him!
You've got something special.
You remind me of a Beatles song...
Know the Beatles, Chantal?
Sylvie.
Sylvie...
Sylvie, Chantal... They're both cute.
Paul, I'm working, as are you.
I meant to call you, but I've been
so busy, so many stories...
Where were you?
The press conference is starting!
Duty calls, baby.
- Don't you ever stop?
- Pretty girls are everywhere.
Haven't you noticed?
How long you been with your wife?
Ten years.
- Ten years! Why?
- I love her.
- Out of the way.
- Hey, take it easy!
Reims in Division Two.
What can you tell us?
It's a tough blow for the team.
It was a tricky season.
But...
Excuse me.
Paul Coutard, Le Champenois.
Have you made personal mistakes
in running the club?
You won't rile me, Coutard.
Can I quote you on that?
I took this club to the top.
And I will again.
I'll do all I can to make sure
Reims is promoted again.
Isn't it time to make way
for a younger man?
How many young men have won
six straight Championships?
Maybe you should give them a chance.
People like who?
Like you?
I reckon I'm capable
of getting a club relegated!
Gentlemen, the conference is over.
I didn't come here to be insulted.
- Wait...
- Leroux, Leroux, Leroux, Leroux!
You didn't finish my interview!
Leroux!
I'm going to the States, chum.
They have real investigative
reporters there.
- I've got friends in Rio.
- Ah, Rio!
It sounds great, the Carnival and all.
I'd like to go there with my wife.
With your wife?
You have to go alone!
You don't take bread
to the baker's!
Leroux called me.
He wants your head.
So you'll apologise publicly.
No.
You will apologise.
I never take back what I say.
- It's a matter of principle.
- Fine.
Richard will take your place.
You'll make corrections to his articles.
This is serious.
It's an attack on press freedom.
Right.
And as I'm not paying you to do nothing,
you can take care of the fête.
No.
Not that. I resign.
When you've repaid
the 3-month advance we gave you.
To find out what to do,
ask Emmanuelle Bruno.
Emmanuel? Who's he?
Emmanuelle.
My secretary for the last 5 years.
Oh, yes. Emmanuelle.
I thought it was Emmanuel.
Out.
Oh, Luigi, how are you?
Before, they were real men.
They loved the club.
It wouldn't have happened.
But now...
The great Reims is over.
It makes me sad.
- Not eating?
- No.
You'd rather have died
than be in the second division.
OK, but...
Don't get so upset,
it's only football.
It's shameful.
We'll be late for bridge.
Oh, no, not tonight.
It'll relax you.
It won't,
and I've an early start tomorrow.
OK.
Remember to let Luigi out for a pee.
- Have a good evening.
- I'll miss you.
Same here.
You agree with me, don't you?
Eh, Luigi?
You're deaf anyway.
So, this fête.
What's it all about?
The main thing
is to find an attraction.
What was it last time?
The Little Singers of Paris.
Rubbish. Outdated.
A rock concert's better.
Can we get Johnny Hallyday?
Johnny Hallyday?
He's totally naff.
He'll be forgotten in a year.
What about the year before?
Midgets wrestling.
That's funny.
- How was it?
- It was midgets wrestling.
Yes, but how was it?
It was...
You can do loads with midgets.
Mini basketball,
mini football.
Goals about 4 feet high, right?
We'll get two teams of midgets
and have a match.
What do you think, Lambert?
I prefer a dance.
That won't work.
We'll need around ten midgets.
Two teams of five-a-side.
But I don't know where to find them.
It's all Leroux's fault.
He can't stand the truth.
He's old.
Outdated. A has-been.
Sorry, but I don't agree.
Pardon?
Leroux doesn't deserve that.
Is your husband a fan of his?
I'm not married.
You like football?
- You, Emmanuelle?
- Why not?
Lots of women play.
In Italy they have
a top women's team.
A national women's team?
I don't believe it.
That's not bad.
For the fête! That's what we'll do.
Brilliant!
Ladies and gentlemen,
we'll have a women's football match.
The Editor won't like it.
Write this down.
"As part of Le Champenois'
annual fête,
"we are seeking...
"women football players..."
Women!
"Any age, any ability."
No, we'll limit the age,
I don't like oldies.
Put an age limit of 40.
And get it printed. Hurry up.
You're nuts.
You need to consult a psy.
A women's football team!
Women, Lambert!
Women...
My father loved football.
He took me to matches
every week when I was little.
I caught the bug.
It's for him.
That's good.
I spend a lot of time at home,
but that's OK.
I like it, but I'd like to meet
new friends.
Girlfriends, that is.
I like tackling, running.
I like groups.
I like shooting.
Shooting?
- At goal.
- That's a relief.
Are you listening?
Yes, sorry. Football...
Are you writing it down?
Of course.
You're doodling.
Not at all.
She didn't want to come.
We kind of made her come.
She's quiet, but gifted.
- What music d'you like?
- Rock'n'roll.
- What kind?
- The Beatles.
They're finished.
- Can I see?
- Look... Catherine.
Nicole.
The kids are grown, I'm bored.
I played handball as a kid.
I could've been a pro
but I wanted a family.
Why doesn't she speak?
Eh, darling?
Are you afraid?
The Beatles breaking up?
Rubbish. The day that happens,
I'll quit journalism.
You want us to play midgets.
Midgets!
What kind of women
are you looking for?
The kind who shoot at goal.
Then I'm your woman!
And not at people.
Midgets against midgets,
that's funny.
But not women against midgets.
I have all the appliances:
a washing machine,
an oven...
You like football, darling?
Your brothers say you really boot it.
Does she speak English?
My mother and I are feminists.
We fight chauvinism.
What does your husband
think about it?
He's my biggest fan.
He'll give his permission.
Permission?
No problem.
If I had one,
he'd sign or I'd break his arms.
You need the husbands' permission.
Permission, of course.
You mean my husband
has to sign a paper so I can play?
I have no husband.
And I don't want one.
So you think a woman
can do anything?
And a man can have a blow-dry.
It's natural.
You want to join my football team?
Yes.
Then smile a bit.
Life is beautiful.
Even when you're working
in the fields.
We're well prepared
and highly motivated.
I hope you are too.
Nicole. See? I remembered.
My mother said
I'd have an unusual life.
Not like hers at the dry-cleaner's.
What's in store for us local girls?
Hairdresser, factory worker,
a teacher at best.
Yeah.
I don't know much about football,
but I like athletics.
I'm in a club.
Athletics keep you fit,
don't you think?
Jeanne... May I call you Jeanne?
Have you ever played team sports?
Never.
This would be the first time.
It'll be a first...
for us all.
Will you be the coach?
I will indeed.
You'll have to listen to me.
Miss Simon, sorry.
It was a pleasure.
Really.
See you soon.
A women's football team.
If my wife finds out, she'll kill me.
Women need their husbands'
permission to play.
Can you take care of it?
I put you on the list,
as you like football.
Plus it was your idea.
So be at the dirt pitch,
tomorrow at 10.
What an idiot.
It will all come back on me.
If he bothers you,
I'll shake him up a bit.
Know what he's planning
for the fête?
A women's football match.
- No, he's really doing it.
- Really?
He even signed me up.
Are you gonna do it?
No. He's doing it for a joke.
I don't like it.
What's his name?
- Coutard.
- Coutard.
Want me to talk to him?
No.
That's kind, but I'm a big girl now.
Just say the word
and I'll twist his neck like this.
Good evening.
Nice place you've got.
Do you live alone?
Got a girlfriend?
Do you have a boyfriend?
Let's say I have a few.
A few? How many?
At the athletics club, right?
No.
I prefer older men.
Mature men.
With experience.
They're all kids there.
Mind you,
I've got lots of girlfriends.
That's how you learn.
What do you learn?
In the changing rooms, just us...
If we want to pleasure
each other, we do.
Sure.
No harm in it.
Don't you want to kiss me?
No. This isn't normal.
Normally, I do that.
You come here, jump on me,
telling me saucy things.
Look, sit down.
Let's start again.
I've always thought
you had something special.
Different.
You remind me
of a Beatles song I love.
Do you know Dear Prudence?
Sorry, but are we going to play
on this?
It's not very practical.
Look, a bit of dust
never hurt anyone.
We're here to play sport.
So what now?
Sorry?
What do we do?
What do we do...
Warm up.
What?
Warm up.
We could start running
while you're deciding.
Running, good idea.
Good initiative.
Everyone do 5 circuits,
and don't cut the corners.
I'll be watching you.
Off you go!
Sexy is not the word.
I'm scared the old bird'll snuff it.
I told you.
Good, Raymonde! Go!
Never mind!
Getting there's what counts!
That was a good run.
But as we're going to play football,
you need to play football.
It'll bring people pleasure.
So I thought we'd practise dribbling.
I need a volunteer.
Murielle.
Nicole.
Whatever.
Come here, Murielle.
Nicole.
Right.
Nicole,
I'll dribble
and you try to get the ball.
Are you ready? OK.
Here we go.
This is Leroux's pitch.
Let him try and stop us.
- He's right, we're trespassing.
- Get dribbling, come on.
We're not allowed.
We can't be here!
It's illegal!
Let's go back.
Go and join the others.
No. It's provocation.
Can you help me clean my shoes?
Nicole's got skill.
She can kick a ball, big deal.
She plays well.
I'm responsible for the fête, too.
You're wearing me out.
You're tiresome.
Well, you're...
impudent.
I'm what?
Impudent.
Who are they?
Leroux's juniors.
- You're on our pitch.
- Hello to you, too.
Delighted.
Go home, girls, this is our pitch.
We were here first.
What's she on about?
We're the juniors!
Can you read a shirt
or just wash it?
Do you want a smack?
Calm down, everyone.
Juniors, women...
Who are you?
Their coach?
No way! A coach for girls!
You're a coachess!
Nice outfit.
Is there a men's version?
Hold me back, Lambert!
We're going back.
Listen to four-eyes.
You mean me?
Calm down, they're kids.
Wait. You want the pitch?
We'll play you for it.
- No.
- There.
- The winner stays here.
- You little sods!
Look out, Granny's upset!
You bet she is!
Forget it.
Maybe your balls haven't dropped.
Or maybe they don't have any.
OK, you asked for it.
We'll slaughter you.
We're really scared!
They're rude to boot.
Come on!
We're here.
Wait...
The first!
It's OK, girls.
Get back to your side!
You were hesitant,
so there's no defence.
- Why were you doing this?
- It stops them getting through.
Come on, girls! You're the best!
Get with it, blondie!
The second!
No more goals!
- Not one!
- She's right!
Pass!
- They're doing well.
- Pardon?
I've had it. I've had it.
I've had it.
I'm not sure about Raymonde.
Come here, Raymonde.
- I can go on.
- No, you're doing well for your age.
We're gonna win!
You're dehydrated.
You go on.
Me?
Do you see anyone else?
Lambert.
Come on, let's go.
Play! What are you doing?
Play!
Get going!
Go on!
She's great!
Very good, Emmanuelle! Good!
Good footwork.
So, shall we take
these kids down?
It's only a match!
What are they playing at?
Wait!
So much for slaughtering us!
Gonna wash our shirts now?
So,
who are the chicks now?
Public affray.
Fighting women, it's shameful.
Some of them pack a punch.
They're not real women.
They humiliated you!
They started it!
Want me to tell your dad?
- Shut up!
- Shut up?
They started it!
- It's our pitch!
- Is Leroux's name on it?
- On the gate?
- Commissioner.
You, Coutard.
Yes?
What were you doing
on Reims' pitch with those women?
We're training for a footballing gala
with women.
It's for a fête.
The husbands have agreed.
Are you drunk?
No, I'm not.
Women's football!
Are you making fun of me?
- Can they play or not?
- The one with the glasses can.
I never saw a girl play like her.
She beat us on her own.
What about the Bardot lookalike?
Not great, but she's a looker.
"Not great, but she's a looker."
Want me to tell your dad?
Stop that.
What the hell's going on, Victor?
They fought with women
and these two guys.
Why were they on my pitch?
According to the inquiry,
they were playing on the council pitch.
They train girls now?
They challenged the juniors.
And beat them.
You're a loser, Leroux.
You might knock.
Don't start.
I've got a great idea.
You'll like it.
It's a brilliant idea.
I'm going to found
the first women's football team in Reims!
You have golden feet.
With your talent
and my business acumen,
we'll go far.
It'll be great!
It was humiliating.
But you blew them away!
Don't ruin it now.
What, a bunch of girls in a fête?
Forget about the fête!
No. We were asked to do it.
And a proper team takes work,
money, investment.
We need boots, kit,
a bus, matches to play.
Right now we have nothing.
I'll take care of all that.
You play.
Get warmed up, it's as good as done.
Yes.
No. Not basketball, no.
Football.
We're playing all over Champagne.
More potential customers will see us,
and see you.
That's right.
Women playing football.
How much will it cost?
39,000 francs.
Hello?
- It's the future, sir.
- Forget it.
Hello...
Football shirts
on women isn't right.
It's just not done.
Old francs?
- Well?
- Not now.
You're a comedian!
Money first.
I'm Paul Coutard, a journalist
for Le Champenois.
Hello? Hello?
How about something cheaper?
We'll try Epernay town hall...
Pleasure doing business with you.
You little virgin.
No, football.
Football, as in the sport.
Women playing football.
No, it's not a joke.
I know it sounds funny, but...
It's not a joke, no.
Are you interested or not?
No? Then I'll stop wasting your time.
Thanks. Bye.
Are you free on the 25th at 10?
Yes.
No, we haven't moved.
Same address.
Emmanuelle!
I got it for you!
Come on!
Get down here!
- Make an effort, Raymonde!
- I'm useless at this!
At football too.
We're gonna train.
Put a bit there.
Pink...
Get a move on, Baby.
"Baby"? I like it!
It's a bit much.
They'll think we're stoned.
Is Granny shocked?
"Granny"? I'm off.
It's funny.
It's horrible!
Mind you don't splash yourself,
Butterfly.
Nini the Compressor!
What about me?
The Bulldozer.
Not the Bulldozer!
Come on, we've got work to do.
Aye-aye, Cap'n!
Captain!
We're like flowers in spiky shoes.
Spiky flowers!
Good one!
Should we help?
Don't be so macho!
Give them their creative freedom.
They're in control.
Don't play around with the girls.
Absolutely not.
A coach doesn't get involved
with his men...
women.
And I wasn't flirting.
I was working out a strategy.
Strategy? What strategy?
Who are you kidding?
As you seem not to appreciate
the publicity we're offering,
here's an example
of our commercial potential.
Jeanne, if you please.
Did you design the shirt, Béatrice?
Sure it's not too tight?
Do you feel comfortable, miss?
Yes.
See how your name stands out.
I can see it very well.
They're fine, Béatrice.
Just a bit short.
It's the standard length.
I didn't choose it.
- I like it very much.
- Not very flattering for the thighs.
I love it.
- I bet it's machine-washable.
- Thanks, girls, I'm really proud...
To your places, girls.
Come on.
Tallest behind?
That's right.
Béatrice behind.
That's good.
Small ones in front. Good.
You look terrific.
And I've taken a few.
Nini,
I need you to smile.
Uncross your arms, Nini,
we can show off too.
Emmanuelle, how long d'you need
to get changed?
It's nothing like a football kit.
Hello?
It's 1969, mini-skirts and all that.
Don't keep us hanging around,
Butterfly!
Oh!
Why hide?
You're hot, Butterfly!
Emmanuelle, next to Jeanne.
Wow, Emmanuelle's a dark horse.
- Take the photo.
- Right.
OK, keep still.
One...
Two...
Hey, girls, boots and boobs!
Three!
Perfect.
One more.
Wassy... Wassy... Where's Wassy?
320,000 kilometers on the clock!
It's been round the block
more than Raymonde.
Where've they got to?
I'll find out.
Girls, we're gonna be late
for our first match. Wassy won't wait.
What's going on?
Girls!
Francine's not here.
You women
can't keep to a schedule!
Her husband stopped her.
We got his permission, no?
Yes.
But it wasn't signed by him.
Then who did sign it, Emmanuelle?
We'll go and get her.
No. She tried to be clever.
We're going, that's an order.
- She had no choice.
- She chose her husband.
- It's true.
- Don't you start!
- She's just a substitute.
- Baby, we'll put you in the corner!
We're not leaving anyone behind.
I'm taking all the risks here!
You are all irresponsible.
I say we're going, so let's go!
Right, I don't care.
I can play football anytime.
Take the kids outside.
No, no, no. Come on.
They're cute.
Are you married?
No.
But you like women?
It's not what you think.
What we're doing
is morally irreproachable.
Would you let your wife parade
in shorts in front of people?
No.
Well, then?
Your wife is an excellent player.
She has golden feet.
I taught her to play.
She gets by, that's all.
These girls
are pioneers
who will change mentalities.
Do I look like a feminist?
What would you say...
to 500 francs?
1,000.
800?
1,000.
1,000?
Boots and boobs on grass
Dribbling and tackling
When Butterfly scores
There's no stopping us
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs on grass
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs on grass
The ball hits the net
A goal by Nini
The striker who never tires
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs on grass
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs...
The coach is back!
With Auntie Francine!
How did you do it?
I changed mentalities, that's how.
Auntie!
Welcome to the team!
Auntie's here!
Auntie's here!
HOME 0
VISITORS 1
Who's he?
Raymonde's husband.
He's quite a fan.
Go, Raymonde!
- They're in trouble.
- No, they're doing well.
- They might get hurt.
- They won't break!
Look!
Goal!
STUDS ON THE BRAIN
I've decided.
We're changing formation.
You'll be closer to Emmanuelle.
Oh, yes!
Let's get closer!
We'll up the training.
Twice a week, minimum.
Coutard.
What are you doing on my pitch?
You don't work Sundays but I do.
I'm busy.
So, Leroux.
How's it feel to see a winning team?
Are you taking notes?
That's good, girls!
I took out two defenders.
They never saw me coming.
That's good.
I'm glad you're having fun.
Sometimes I play number 10.
It's more even in 4-3-3.
Know what?
I think Coutard
finally understands...
Is he bothering you?
Otherwise...
Yes.
And you know Nini?
She's a little amateurish,
but I can knock her into shape.
As for the Bulldozer...
You don't want to cross her.
And Jeanne.
She runs like an antelope.
Take it easy! Easy!
Come on, Jeanne.
A photo.
I'm her coach.
Emmanuelle!
Take it easy.
Let's get on the bus.
In my day we had real singers:
Ferrat, Ferré, not like today!
Adamo is cute.
He's always crying!
- What do you think of the coach?
- Not my type.
Just like men in general!
He's too sure of himself.
And as for his hair!
He's not bad for a one-night stand.
Granny!
I don't mean for me.
I meant in general.
Relax, Butterfly.
Unclench your cheeks.
My what?
- Good luck with that!
- It's makeover time.
Take off those glasses.
I can't see! Stop it!
It's pointless!
Butterfly!
Get in there!
Make her foul you!
Behind you!
Mr Coutard, you ignored my warnings.
This is for you.
Here's what I think of your notice.
There.
Butterfly!
What is it?
Well, here we are.
Yes.
Looks like home.
- Thanks a lot.
- You're welcome.
Wait, I'll help you.
- No need.
- Yes, there is.
It's just a sprain.
I insist. I really do.
I'll be fine.
Don't say that.
- Come on.
- Thanks, but I can manage.
Don't get wet.
Careful.
Let me take you to the door.
- I'm here now.
- No, I won't let you fall.
I won't let you go
till you're safely on the sofa.
I'm a gentleman...
And you are?
Good evening.
I'm Paul Coutard.
I guessed from your outfit.
Thanks.
- What happened, darling?
- It's nothing, Dad.
What's he doing here?
He brought me home.
He's going.
You bet he is.
He looks ridiculous.
I love Italian. It's so warm.
In my day, you'd have been fit
only to clean my boots.
The language of love!
Do you make them play
against wild animals?
Casado.
I'll get some ice.
Wait.
Your face is familiar.
Have we met before?
At the barber's?
No, I know you.
You're Giacamo Bruno.
That's me.
I'm your number-one fan!
I've put on weight.
You were unbeatable!
You were a wall!
We called him the Butcher of Puglia!
The Butcher of Puglia!
Your name's Bruno,
I should've known.
I haven't been called that
in a long time.
I'm a gran admirador.
That's Spanish.
That's June 13, 1956
at the Parc des Princes.
The European Cup Final
against Real Madrid.
- We lost 4-3.
- You should've won.
- You were marking Di Stefano.
- Emmanuelle cried for a long time.
Look at that!
That's me with Leroux.
He was young and handsome.
- You like him?
- He was my coach for ten years.
He was like an angry lion.
He listened to no-one.
The Federation was mad.
- He's changed a lot.
- What d'you expect?
We've all changed.
Look at Emmanuelle: as a kid,
she played football every day.
Her mother scolded her
for neglecting her homework.
We had matches in the back garden.
When I let her win,
she was so happy.
Look at that smile.
I recognise the smile.
- You let me win?
- What do you think?
You thought you could beat
the Butcher of Puglia?
Oh, yes.
The European Cup Final
against Nîmes.
I remember...
I twisted my knee after 5 minutes.
I wanted to stop, but Leroux said:
"You have to stay on."
So I stayed on.
A great match.
It hurts.
You look good without glasses.
Oh, yes,
I took them off.
It's easier to play without them.
It's very pretty. It's...
Your face is more...
Oh, I didn't show you this.
It's a photo
of the women's team in Italy.
The best team in Europe.
Had Dad stayed,
I could've played for them.
You'll do better.
You'll play here.
It wasn't a good start.
We'll change our tactics,
do like the Italians.
We'll get proper licences.
Then we can have grounds,
championships.
We'll have loads of other girls
following us.
We'll change mentalities.
Mark my words.
We'll change mentalities.
French national team.
It'll be child's play.
Sorry, your wife can't come in.
She's my best player.
Whatever her status,
she can't come in.
No need. It'll be a formality.
Is my hair OK?
Take a seat.
Mr Coutard, we've looked closely
at your application.
I'm afraid we can't agree
to your request.
I haven't spoken yet.
What do you have to say?
I don't know. Why no? It's unfair.
Let's not waste time.
Reims' only club is the Stade.
There'll never be another.
- Especially not a women's one.
- It's personal.
Absolutely.
I've nothing against the girls.
The meeting's over.
Wait. Leroux.
You've seen them play.
Tell them they deserve it!
There can't be women footballers.
They don't exist.
Fine.
I'm not moving
until I get my licence.
You don't know
who you're throwing out.
Remember my name:
Paul Coutard!
With a D at the end.
- What happened?
- We didn't get it, that's what.
- Did they say why?
- Ask your idol Leroux.
Leroux's here?
He voted no?
It's an institution...
Emmanuelle! What...
Emmanuelle!
You think it's funny?
You think we're funny?
What do you care
if we play football?
What are you afraid of?
Women all over Europe play.
Italy, England, Holland, Ireland,
all have licences.
It's a right, even for children.
You decide who gets to play
from behind your desks?
None of you can dribble like me.
You haven't seen a pitch in 30 years.
And you, Leroux.
As a younger man,
you'd never have sided
with these paunches in 3-piece suits.
3-piece suits are so outdated.
"I, Paul Coutard..."
And Emmanuelle Bruno.
"...and Emmanuelle Bruno accuse
"the Federation bosses
in their comfortable armchairs
"of deciding arbitrarily on the right
of women to play football;
"of denying them
the most basic of rights:
"the right to exist."
Even as amateurs!
That's good.
"Even as amateurs."
"Yet, when a woman
is injured on the pitch,
"is her blood not as red
"as that of a man?"
OK, that's a bit...
"We have a dream:
"that one summer's day,
a little girl may go to the stadium
"to cheer on her mother
"who is playing
"football."
Like it?
I like it.
Me too.
I like it too.
You type well.
"It's time to crush
"century upon century
of patriarchal society..."
HEXAGONALES
The current-affairs programme
TODAY: WOMEN FOOTBALLERS?
After the demotion of Reims
to Division Two,
another football-related story
is shaking up Champagne's capital:
its women's football team.
I'm Paul Coutard.
I put the team together.
They play better than most men.
Even better
than the current Reims team!
Please film them as they train.
Can you put it back on me?
Everywhere else,
women can get a licence.
In Italy, not so far away,
not across the Atlantic.
In Italy, women can play football
happily.
In our country, they can't.
Liberty, equality, fraternity?
Don't make me laugh!
I'm Paul Coutard for Le Champenois,
the team coach.
A fringe team,
but not without its supporters.
Why shouldn't they play?
Yes.
Why not give them a licence?
Things have to change.
No more washtubs.
The future is hope, joy,
self-development.
It's time men understood that.
Boots and boobs on grass
Dribbling and tackling
When Butterfly scores
There's no stopping us
Boots and boobs
Boots and boobs on grass
Boots and boobs!
They say football's a men's game.
Do you feel feminine?
I wear court shoes and football boots.
And I paint my nails.
What does your husband think
when you can't do the housework?
Does it cause tension?
Not at all.
My husband loves ironing.
Are you late for meetings?
Do you spend hours on the phone?
Do you have hot flushes?
We'll fight to the end
for our right
to play football like men.
We're occupying the ground
so as not to be bullied by men.
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs!
It's a declaration of war.
My own wife said she wants to play.
Elise? Elise wants to play football?
What about the ironing?
The children?
Let's be clear.
No women's football.
It's an outrage.
If you look at it rationally...
Rationally?
Put your own house in order.
A shame to languish in Division Two.
Women's bodies aren't suited to football.
It's damaging to the reproductive organs.
During periods,
the ligaments are more fragile.
Clearly, women have a right
to play team sports.
But I recommend
synchronised swimming.
A decent family doesn't parade
its daughter in front of men.
I'm sure some girls
find it exciting,
but I condemn it.
Men can always
go and see strippers.
I don't like it.
It'll cause a scandal.
You know I'm on your side,
but Coutard is using you.
Why mention him?
You think I can't cope alone?
You don't like me
playing football in public
instead of in the garden.
I just want to protect you.
I'm a big girl, Dad.
It isn't football any more.
It'd be easier if I was a boy.
No, darling...
WOMEN AT HOME
MEN ON THE PITCH
OUR HUSBANDS
ARE NOT SPECTATORS
It's ridiculous!
Even Women's Lib are against us!
The Federation thing ruined it.
It wasn't very...
Trust me.
Whatever they say about us,
at least they're talking about us.
We're risking our jobs here.
Your licence idea was shit.
We're fighting for recognition.
You're too selfish to see.
She's right.
We have to fight
against male chauvinism.
You're pissing us off
with your male chauvinism.
Yes, it's a bit of a pain.
We're wasting time.
Let's fight our way out.
You and whose army?
I get insulted in the street.
Wear a longer skirt, then.
It seems we won't be playing today.
Gather your things
and smile at your admirers.
We've nothing to be ashamed of.
- When will I see you?
- You're seeing me.
Look, right now it's...
Anyway, it was never a good idea.
You know that.
It's better we stop now.
For your sake.
Really.
Come on!
He's using you!
Mr Coutard,
I was asked to contact you.
My boss Mr Robert
has an offer to make you.
No comment.
No comment.
Let me through.
Excuse me.
I'll expect your call.
Patrick is the brand. Mr Robert.
He'll expect your call.
Who is this guy?
If I told you,
it wouldn't be a surprise.
- Hello, Paul.
- Hello.
Raymond Robert,
marketing director for Patrick.
The brand.
Thanks for coming, Miss Bruno.
It's an honour to meet you.
It's mutual.
We've followed your story
in the media
and we like it.
We'd like to offer you
a partnership with Patrick...
The brand.
...to create the first
women's football championship.
Marvellous, isn't it?
The Federation won't agree.
They'll be faced
with a fait accompli.
You'll get your licence.
That's not all. Tell her, Raymond.
A new sport needs a star.
We thought of you.
We've seen you on TV.
You are...
exceptional.
What do you think?
Paul wanted your agreement first.
OK.
Let's drink to that!
We have to tell the girls.
To the first
women's football championship!
Paul Coutard always succeeds.
I liked the shape
but not the colour.
Yes, but...
Thank you all for coming
to this exclusive event.
Patrick is proud to present...
Where's Baby?
She'll miss her moment of glory.
Let me introduce the man
who made it possible.
A visionary: Paul Coutard!
Thank you, but what matters
in football is the team.
Please give a big hand
to Reims Women's Club.
A team is nothing
without its star player.
The attacker who will soon
be the envy of Europe.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Emmanuelle Bruno.
Miss Bruno!
Could I have a smile?
Bravo.
Coutard!
MY SECRET AFFAIR WITH MY COACH
I saw it coming.
Let me explain...
That too.
Wait...
Bastard!
Wait, I can explain...
I promise you...
- My wife's gone.
- I'm sorry, old son.
No, she just went to her mother's.
She does it all the time
when she's angry.
It's a bit of a holiday for me.
Come in.
It's OK being single.
I'm truly sorry, Lambert.
So you should be!
You were a total idiot.
All the same,
Jeanne really laid into you!
I didn't laugh at the time, but...
She was right.
I got what I deserved.
That's true.
I've ruined everything.
That's you all over.
Always ducking out.
Always hiding from things.
You love Emmanuelle.
I saw it from the start.
Always ducking out
at the crucial moment.
Think I should tell her?
I'm not sure that will be enough.
No...
You have to prove you love her.
How?
How?
How indeed.
How!
How, yes...
Let me think.
Just a minute...
How...
How...
Lambert?
How...
Lambert!
I'm off.
Remember to lock up
when you leave.
What are you doing?
Changing mentalities.
That's what I'm doing.
Go for it, sonny.
Get down! Come on!
You pervert! Get down!
Nicole!
Wait for me!
Giacomo!
Want me to kill you?
We have to talk.
Emmanuelle cried.
She never cries.
She did?
I'll kill you!
OK. But I want to talk first.
To you.
To the Butcher of Puglia.
Come in.
Thanks.
Go on!
Yes?
A friend of yours, Giacomo Bruno,
wants to see you.
Giac! Show him in.
Come in.
Permesso...
I'm so happy to see you!
- It's been a long time.
- Too long. You look great.
Come on.
What are you doing with him?
I know, he's an idiot.
First of all,
I'm sorry for how I behaved.
Now you're sorry?
If you'd helped us...
It's not my fault.
That's enough!
Listen to the plan.
Come and sit down.
Well?
We want to open the season
at the stadium with women's football.
That's just an advance.
It's not a question of money.
You're losing attendance.
You're in Division 2.
I'm offering you great publicity.
The media will be all over it.
Everyone will boo me.
I'm The Pervert.
Remember my daughter?
Yes. She's a pain, too.
Who'll they play? Nuns?
No.
The Italians.
The best club in Europe.
That's a national team.
They'll never play your girls.
My girls, no.
But the French team, yes.
There isn't one!
Yes, there is: us.
The Federation will have to recognise us.
The girls get their licence
and you screw the Federation, as before.
So, what do you say?
Is this a joke?
It is a joke!
It's not a joke.
Hello, everyone,
and welcome to the Stade Delaune
for this match between
the Stade de Reims and Dunkirk.
Welcome to this first match
in the Second Division.
How will Reims react to
the huge disappointment of last season?
It's a big challenge
for Michel Leroux.
But first we're going to see a match
between French and Italian women.
Yes, you heard me right, listeners,
women's football. Whatever next?
Nevertheless, the stadium is full.
This match has attracted
the kind of crowd
normally seen at major events.
This is going to be a unique match.
The excitement here is palpable,
though we might legitimately ask...
How about a little game?
I won't let you miss this opportunity.
If I win, you play.
- I'm not a kid anymore.
- Chickening out?
Best of five goals, like before.
And if you lose?
You do as you want.
This time I won't let you win.
Shame!
- Does it hurt?
- A bit.
Want to play dirty, eh?
What do you mean?
I'll show you.
Had enough, Dad?
Again.
I won! You did well, bravo.
OK, you won.
If you don't want to play, don't.
Do as you want.
It's your life.
Ah, hello, gentlemen.
What brings you here from Paris?
You know very well.
The French women's team.
They're playing football.
What's the problem?
You're doing things backwards.
You have to obey the rules.
This team has usurped its status.
Kick-off's in ten minutes.
Look at the crowd.
People want to see them.
Don't be a fool, Leroux.
We're stopping the match.
Their changing room
is last on the right.
Good day to you.
Short strides, boys.
She's not coming, is she?
Yes, she is.
We're not dependent on her.
Without her, we've no chance.
I'm off.
So am I.
Me too.
You're giving up?
He's talking rubbish as usual.
I'm your coach.
I know we can win, with or...
He's told you we don't support
women's football.
Not true.
But an illegal match
in front of lecherous men
is less than you deserve.
This document proves our good faith.
Sign it and you'll have your licence.
However, there are two conditions:
that this match be abandoned,
and that Mr Coutard be dismissed
immediately.
Sign it.
You won.
Good decision, Coutard.
I'm not signing.
I came to play a match.
We're not chickening out.
Maybe we'll lose.
But at least we'll have tried.
If we sign, they win.
We're pioneers, right?
Then let's follow through.
We'll get a licence.
I don't know when, but we will.
Without conditions.
And our coach...
stays.
He may not be the best,
but he's ours.
Who are we?
Boots and boobs!
Boots and boobs.
The Italians will humiliate you.
You'll be a laughing stock.
Want to bet?
Women: the more I see of them,
the less I understand them.
Captain...
Coco...
Granny, Bulldozer!
Auntie! Go, girls!
Believe!
Emmanuelle, I wanted to...
About the...
I wanted to...
Because...
I've thought
about the tactics for this match.
I'll take care of it.
You'll take...
Great.
Good luck.
Ladies and gentlemen,
here she is, Emmanuelle Bruno!
Is my hair OK?
You never looked better.
Go, girls! Go, girls!
I told you it'd be a success.
Come on.
Ready?
Look out, girls.
One, two...
three!
On March 29, 1970,
the French Football Federation
was forced to recognise
women's football in France.
The first official match
of the French women's team
took place on April 17, 1971
against Holland.
In 1974, the first women's football
championship took place.
Reims won the first four competitions.
The French Football Federation
now has over 160,000
registered female players.
Subtitling TITRAFILM