That's Life (1981) - full transcript

This film is dedicated to Geneviève Thénier

and to the memory of Germaine de France.

Hello, Rachat?
- Who is this?

- Ginette.
- Hello, Ginette.

Ginette, what are we going to talk about?

- Myself, of course!
- Of course,

but more specifically?
- I don't know.

I wan-wanted to talk to you

but I don't know about what.

Yes! I wanted to get your –

Yes, I – See, you make me stammer!



Yes – I wanted to thank you for your show

which does so much good for women.

- That's nice, Ginette! But I should

hope that it doesn't only do good to women.

- That's not what I meant
- Moving on.

I assume you want to talk

because you feel a tad lonely.
- That's it.

Well, not exactly. I have two children.

Tell me about this, Ginette.
It must be exciting!

Exciting! I'm not sure anymore....

Is everything OK? Still there?

- Yeah...
- Come now, things aren't so bad.

- You have two children, that's important, no?
- Yes.

- Tell me, how did you have these children?\N- Well...



I meant: tell us a bit how it happened

- I mean... Are you married, Ginette?
- I am.

- Do you love your husband?
- Well...

I see there is a bit more to this.

Why don't you relieve your heart a little?

- I don't know why I called you anymore...
- It's OK.

We're not in a hurry. At least, I'm not.

Don't you feel somewhat privileged

with a husband and two kids?

There's so much misery in the world

so, when you at least have a family...
- That'd be too easy!

When you're unhappy, it relates to you,

not to anyone else!
- That's quite interesting!

Let's develop this thought a bit!

My husband fled!

I say "my husband," but he wasn't

the man I had met anymore.

How was he when you met him?

- Joyful.
- And now?

Still joyful, I suppose.

But not with me anymore!

Any resemblance
between real events or people

and the events or characters
depicted in this motion picture

would be purely accidental.

Little girl! Little girl!

You came to play hopscotch?

Are you talking to me?

Well, shit!

I'm not "little," I'm Ginette!

Hey!

Careful!

Four years later we were married.

I was barely an adult.

During those four years, he was wonderful.

You sound so emotional, Ginette.

It's good to have had such a love in your life.

Not everyone is so lucky.
- Oh, I know it.

I know it.

All of this is meaningless:
at the end of the day

it's when you have been the most unhappy

that you were the happiest.
- Well, Ginette,

you really are the most peculiar woman.

It seems strange to you.

Unhappiness and happiness
always go together.

My husband loved me so much!

He gave me so many nicknames!

I was "his Sun."

Not very original but

after what he had lived through

I understand that he needed me for that.

The woman he loved before me was an American.

She was married to an American, much older.

The old man had accepted.

He must have known
she would leave him someday.

I think that's nice, don't you?

It's very beautiful Ginette.

He left them alone, and they loved each other.

Or so I imagined when he told me the story.

How much they must have
loved each other to ignore the husband

and forget how great he was.

Then she got pregnant, but it didn't go sour.

The old man told them, "It's your child

but I'll help you raise him if you can't manage."

I heard she was very beautiful.

Not just from my husband. People who knew her.

Well, I imagined her very pretty.

Smart and pretty.

With a horrid accent, but quite moving.

She was pregnant, and Richard was studying.

- Who's Richard, Ginette?
- She was still in Corsica

Getting a suntan.
- Ginette, you didn't answer!

Who is Richard? Who was he in your life?

Don't shout! Didn't I tell you?

Richard is my husband's name. Why?

Reminds you of someone?

No, keep going, Ginette.

She would write him every day from Corsica,

general delivery so that his,
Richard's, mother

wouldn't hear of her! What a story!

A married American woman!

And in the countryside on top of it!
With a bun in the oven!

It would have been a scandal, don't you think?

Rachat? Are you still there?

Yes, Ginette, keep going.

One morning he received
a letter from the husband.

Leone was dead and so was the kid.

A fall.

At the post office there was a letter still.

"Posthumous," as they say.

- Her name was Leone
- Yes, Rachat. Leone.

Leone's a good name. Or so I think.

As soon as we were married, Richard,

he wanted me to bear him a child right away.

So I did. A big boy, strong as any!

He died an hour old.

He was choking, no one could do anything.

He was turning purple.

The doctor spanked him, breathed in his mouth,

and I couldn't even cry anymore

because I had suffered so much

because I had screamed in hysterics
while holding Richard's hand.

I had no more tears, no more strength,

nothing.

I was watching my son going,

going before he even knew he touched life.

It brought Richard and I closer.

We loved each other without talking about it.

Nothing, no memories of it –
-Ginette –

None whatsoever!
We had struck it from our lives.

So, happiness or unhappiness, I don't know!

In this affair,
someone's conscience should feel heavy!

- Ginette!
- What if Leone had lived normally

with Richard, even in the country!
- Ginette!

Forgive me, but I'm dying to ask you a question.

I'm listening.
- Is it your real name, "Ginette?"

Well, wouldn't you know!

You're really good, Rachat.

How did you figure it out?

Maybe because one finds it easier

under a fake name

easier to talk about people one knows

in case they might be listening.

- You're saying this for my sake?
- I meant

that we can speak more freely

about ourselves while hidden.

Don't take it the wrong way, Ginette.
- Well, that's not it either!

Because I always called myself Ginette,

with myself in secret and my friends.

They'll know me anyway!

Now, I'm Ginette, totally.

I was so disgusted when he left me.

I found it so lonely

that I thought it would make me become someone else

to forget Richard.
- It's not so easy to get rid of a great love.

I didn't want rid of love,
I wanted rid of that bastard!

Ginette, you have no right!

- What do you mean no right?
- What I mean is...

Some deplorable things happened,

I'm ready to believe you.

But it is better to dwell on the good times

if memory is to be of any service.

Don't you think so?
- No,

memory isn't strong enough!

Good times were then, when we lived them.

Since then my memory has carried

so much that made me realize I was wrong...

to deem them "good times."

Everything was fakery, misunderstandings!

"Simple, tiny misunderstandings,"

that's what my memory is telling me now.

Aren't you being a little unfair?

If you really have solved
the problem with your past,

if, really, you're judging Richard fairly,

without making a mistake

then why are you sad?

- That's not why I'm sad.
- Good evening!

I'm calling you concerning the job we discussed.

Oh, actually, I changed my mind.

I don't need to work anymore.

Thank you, maybe some other time.

- What was that about?
- Had our child lived

I would have gone to work.
- Fancy that.

That's the way it is!

- Do you want to go back in.
- No!

- You don't want to go in?
- No!

- Then, let's do it outside!
- Let's do what, exactly?

- Well, that!
- If I want to!

But I want to!

Do it on your own,
if you're the only one that matters.

That's enough theory, let's practice!

You ate and drank too much, so now –

I don't want your excess baggage,
I want your desire!

Romance! But biology also hits close to home.

Clothes. To. Home.

In any case, you won, I don't want to anymore.

Very well, we may now proceed!

Proceed how, proceed where?

I'll teach you

to love me!
- Teach me!

- I'll teach you to desire me!
- Teach me!

- To make me desire you!
- Teach me!

To look at me as a woman

and not as your wife!
- Teach... me...

me... ah!

Do me!

It reminds me – Stop!

If I love you it's for you!

It reminds me of a song
my grandmother used to sing.

An old Frehel song. It went,

"Men love us for themselves, not for us.

They're all the same, blasé and vicious.

When instinct guides them,
what do they look for in us?

A quick squeeze and that's all.

After a caress,
full of contempt they let us fall.

That problem they call love is very small.

It's for themselves they love us."

- We should have another child
- Yes...

- Two?
- Two.

- Three?
- Two!

Arthur, then two years later Zoe.

Two darlings.

Never troublesome.

Each day, I thought, it's unreal –

one of them is bound to be ill, to start smoking,

to shoplift, to throw stones at the neighbors,

to stir up shit at the kindergarten!

But no.
- Aren't you a bit pessimistic?

I always expect the worst,

that way I'm never surprised,

because the worst almost always happens.

- I understand, but don't you think that

even if this pessimism suits you

eventually it's going
to impact your family?

For instance, wouldn't Richard

feel discouraged by it?

In which case, you and your behavior

would be causing the worst?

No, that's too simplistic!

You sound like my mother-in-law!

I never share to others,

I estimate the probabilities by myself.

Afterwards sometimes I do say,

"I knew it! I knew it would happen!"

And Richard would answer,

"You're always certain something's wrong."

Didn't you mention a mother-in-law?

My grandma neither!

What do you want me to say
about my mother in-law?

I don't know that Leone was her business,

if you catch my drift.

She lives her life as she wants to,

but she made a mess whenever she meddled.

Not that she's bad, she just has no clue.

- About what for example?
- I don't have an example ready.

Isn't that a bit facile?

No example because she never had a clue!

About anything...

that I wanted to work
while my kids were at home.

And of course, kids grow up

they live their lives while we toil

for our husband, the kids, their problems,

their heartbreaks. Then they leave

and we feel empty, our energy gone to waste.

That's when you should
think about getting a job.

It's too late!

A woman in her forties who
wants to start gets dirty looks.

"She's here to steal a job!"

And even then, you're not in the race.

You no longer have ambition,

and you need ambition as a drive,

it helps you in life.
- What about the children, then?

For them, too: they're not pampered.

They get organized, and organize themselves.

- But that leads to anarchy!
- Indeed!

- And sometimes they run away.
- My goodness,

I'm like an open book to you!

Yes, once they ran away.
- See?

You're ideas aren't bad per se, Ginette.

You're a little wild, maybe, a little idealistic.
-Wait.

They did run away but you should know why.

Richard hit me one evening.
- What?!

Yes, nothing too serious.

A colleague had been promoted.
Didn't I tell you?

He's an executive for the railroad network.
- You don't say.

He had been drinking,

and I don't like when my man drinks, it isn't nice.

So he slapped me a couple of times!

I was stunned as Simone would say –

She's a friend.

It wasn't too bad. Just pride.

I can understand him reacting like he did.

I prefer that to the rest.

It smarts a bit, then it passes.

While a frustrated night's sleep – Anyway,

they went to my grandmother's

When they came back
they told their father to stop it.

And you think that's normal?

They love me! Still, I work.

See, it ain't that simple.

The super is very nice.

She takes care of them when I'm not there.

She knows how to reach me
when there's an emergency

and I'm often at home.

I act as mediator between

a private school's board and the PTA.

Ginette, you said, "This isn't why I'm sad."

- Yeah.
- And now you paint a perfect picture of your life.

Yes.

Time passed.

There's a song by Léo Ferré.

"As time goes, everything goes,

we forget the voice and the face.

When the heart isn't well, don't bother anymore.

Let it go, it's for the best.

When others express what you feel,

and the music is good, why think up other words?

You must think I'm conceited.
- Not at all.

It's just that you have a personal way of casting...
- Blame?

When I screw things up, I do worse than others!

Why bother to stay clearheaded?

Ginette, you must learn to accept yourself.

You can't keep showing,
then hiding yourself. It's absurd!

Rachat, you're right.

But it's Arthur and Zoe, you must understand.

I know I was right to raise them that way.

I need to be active, work 48 hours a day.

Fatigue becomes me.

I can do several things at once perfectly.

But Richard didn't get that.

He resented my moving so much.

When he got home, he would shut down –
He'd be a void.

He would unplug his brain.

Even when helping around the house,
he wasn't there.

A robot.

It was obvious that I was being happy for two.

That lasted for a few months, maybe a year.

Then he came back to life.
- What happened?

He'd taken a mistress, of course!

Then he was restless, and extra nice!

He could think only of going outside.

There was a heap of
increasingly childish pretexts

Perhaps he is listening to you now

and maybe will call us.
- Fat chance.

His big idea was the Rotary Club.

Fantastic! They exclude the housewives

while they get to debate urgent world problems!

And I can't tell if it's just machismo

or the secret thrill to be among men!

Of course there are dinners with the wives.

We sometimes get the honor of being invited!

I don't need to tell you
I never set foot in the place.

Might as well leave them to themselves.

Let 'em talk of Afghanistan, go on a bender

or have sex parties!
- You're being dramatic.

Sure, but it helped him get away,

to find alibis I didn't dream of checking

since I was sure of what I'd find.

So one morning I told him,

"Nobody told me anything,

I don't even know officially,

but I'm sure you're seeing another woman."

Why? I don't satisfy you?

As if it were the only thing.

And what else is there? Tell me.

I don't know about you, but for me lots.

I told him about this intense life of mine

listening to everyone's problems

and trying to solve them,

seeing the children and him come home,

kissing all three of them,

learning what they did during the day,

while preparing the dinner or lunch,

hearing them laugh at anything,

and him making his stupid jokes,
never the same –

He loved that and so did the kids.

I never understood their enjoyment.

Wanna know why?

You've got an umbrella up your ass.
- But I didn't care then.

That's not why I was feeling left out.

It was their joy but I basked in it!

More every day,
happiness building up to choke me,

to break my heart,

and never-ending work eating up my energy

kept me from thinking,

from being scared of what would happen if –

if for once I didn't take cover,

if I didn't expect the worst.

You guessed: it's true, I am having an affair.

And it's your fault.

I don't want my wife working,

especially with two children at home.

I said that there was no point in arguing –

There was a misunderstanding, it was OK,

he was free, too bad he saw life that way,

but he was free.
- Free?

Free to do what?

I loved you.

I gently cut him off and said that love has no past tense.

When you say, "I loved,"

it means that you
just realized you had never loved.

I still love you, you dumb ass!

Don't twist my words. I love you.

I have no desire anymore.

I can't really make love to you.

I need focus to feel aroused,

to have an erection.

I need to watch you a long time.

Motionless.

To watch sitting dreamily by the lamp.

Then the day's work flies away.

I set my sights on you.

But you make me exhausted
moving around so much!

When you don't move
my blood feed off your sight.

It then carries a lot of small desires.
Absurd ones. Childish.

Until they build up to the big desire
that overwhelms me,

makes me lose awareness of everything.

It's not my fault if I love too much.

But you can't stand still.

My desire gets tired if it can't find you.

And gets tired working itself up for nothing.

I told him that he may have good reasons

but that it wasn't the life we agreed to lead

when we got married.

That I may not understand,

that it may not be my business,

but that he had to leave the house

if he wanted to breach our pact.

I came back this afternoon to look over the ratatouille!

Your friend Simone called,
I told her to call back later.

The children are at my place,
they're finishing up.

No, send them back now –

Richard doesn't like to wait for ratatouille!

Where are you coming from with this suitcase?

The parking lot.
I took a few things you had no use for.

I'm leaving you the car, naturally.
- What are you saying?

- I said I'm leav–
- The car, yes, I'm not deaf.

You're leaving me, aren't you?

I know I proposed it.

Let's separate a while and think it over.

Thinking my ass, I've thought it all through.

Don't stay away from me too long!

I'll try to come by on Sunday

if there are issues to straighten out.

I'm expected now.

Straighten what out?

Fuck! I'm leaving!

Don't pretend. I'm leaving!

Forever.

No!

Scumbag!

You can't get away so easily.

You can't decide on your own.

I didn't decide. I'm doing as you told me.

That's not true!

You know it's not true!

I didn't mean it!

- You sounded like you meant it.
- That's an excuse!

Anything to leave me!

You needed so badly to go back to your whore!

You were so happy I proposed it first!

So what?

I was a virgin when you had me!

I wouldn't brag about it.

I didn't mean that.

I am as you made me, don't forget it!

Doesn't give you any rights.

It gives you duties.

Want me to tell you why? And which?
- No.

I'm not even discussing this!

You won't leave, I won't have it!

How will you, you idiot?
- I'll kill you if I need to!

I'll follow you around!

I'll come at night and throw you out of bed!

Bastard! Asshole!

I didn't think about protecting myself.

I thought maybe

he would calm down afterward

and not leave.

Yes, I made quite a scene.

And then the kids showed up.

Talk about a backfire!

No need to say that I never saw him again.

I can't tell whether you still love him or not?

Did you try to figure this out?

It's important.
- If I tried?

I should have begun with that

and spared you waiting.

No doubt on that count.

To me it's as if he never existed.

- But see, a minute ago you said–
- I stand by what I said!

To be out of love means you didn't love.

It doesn't make it any easier.

Sexually, we were a match.

There's the rub.

I wonder if I'll be able to make love again.

Do you mean to say, Ginette,

that you have not known another man since?
- No.

I have not been with someone in two years.

If any guy came close, I'd hit him.

I wanted it

two, three times, tops.

A simple kiss disgusts me,

gives me goosebumps.

That bastard!

Don't you see what he did to me?

Don't tell me that you don't!

- Ginette, dear, calm down.
- Calm down?

Good idea!

What's your advice?

Other women? Dildos?

I'm sorry, Ginette, but your air time has run out.

It's almost time for the news.

You have nothing else to say so you cut me off?
- Not at all!

Stay on the line if you wish to.

We'll go on a music break

followed by the news with Roger.

You must understand.
- Well, I don't!

Aren't you the right person to talk to?

The one who'd know what I'm talking about?

Shit.

She hung up.

That bitch!

In any case

they wouldn't have aired what I wanted to say.

Too close for comfort.

The station would have imploded

or the censors would've intervened.

And how to put it?

I don't love him anymore, it's true.

I miss what he gave me.

Some completely foolish things.

The bathrobe he forgot

that I can't bring myself to throw away.

Small bullshit. And memories.

One night

he was having a shower.

He called me to ask what time it was.

I went to the bed, it was an unholy mess.

I couldn't find a thing, let alone the watch.

And suddenly

I saw my watch on the floor next to his.

Two watches side by side

showing the same time

tick-tocking together.

His, a silver one, a bit heavy,

mine delicately laying there,

languid.

I felt heavy.

My stomach hurt.

I just wanted to join him under the shower

so that he could drown in me.

Well, I did it!

Had he known that it was because
of his watch next to mine

he would have been disappointed.

He'd have been wrong.

Hello?

Yes, madam?

What?

He only had one toast with jam?

Rhubarb, too?

Absolutely unacceptable!

Yes, I agree, madam.

I must write it down or I'll forget.

I must tell the headmistress!

Rhubarb?

I don't believe it!

He was always ready for love.

Sometimes

I'd prefer to have stayed in his arms,

feeling his heat,

his desire,

or rather,

not provoking his desire.

Taking full breaths

and feeling the inside of my bosom tingling,

my inner thighs.

He had an awesome trick.

He would roll gently on his side facing me.

His sex remaining flaccid, to not alarm me.

He was so self-possessed when he wanted to be!

He breathed slightly louder

so I'd think he was asleep.

After I don't know how many nights

he would start his little routine again.

I let him come

pretending I didn't know his game,

like some sneaky ritual.

Then,

when I was supposed to believe he was asleep,

when he, barely moving,

inadvertently, in his sleep,

would clench his fist,

relax his legs,

and by chance,

his mouth would come close to my ear.

Just a moment.

Breathing through his nose,

regularly, asleep.

Then his lips would part

and he'd breath warmly in my ear

several times.

Without speeding up his breath

it would get louder.

The agony!

Nothing left to do –

I let him in,

I wished,

he came inside me, supple.

I could have screamed with joy!

Those screams I kept to myself

helped me focus on my pleasure and on his

He came in his own time,

never selfishly –

toward me,

then going back to himself.

Then,

seeing him on his side,

thrilled by our exhaustion,

his sex going soft at last,

lying limply on his thigh,

a drop of semen still on its lips,

sliding lightly

along his thigh.

- You have been crying again?
- Yes.

How can I be of help?

You've been doing so much
with the children already!

I always thought I was a good mother...

I blame myself.

They don't ask for anything, though.

They're very quiet.

I'm sure they're waiting for you to get better!

You're lucky!

Sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you.

But you're lucky to have these two!

Do they talk to you about me?

Between themselves, they do.

Secretly, never with me.

They'd feel as if they were betraying you.

And their father?

No.

Oh, I can't tell a lie –

They do sometimes mention their father.

They say he's a stranger.

Did they tell you

about Richard waiting for them after school?

Naturally, I was there.

I moved away discreetly,

but they talked so loudly...
Yet, they weren't angry.

"No need to come when Mom's not here!"

I wanted to laugh.

It was unexpected, mind,

to hear them so strong-willed!
- Shh!

You're dying to be with them. Why don't you go?

Mme. Delordre...

I always wanted to ask but never dared –

How did you become a super?
- Ha!

You're intrigued!
- I don't mean to pry.

No worries.

I'm a dreamer, that's all!

Always, I've been chided

for letting myself float along.

Be it snowy or windy, come rain, come shine,

I sail on in those daydreams of mine.

But never motivated daydreams –

I don't conjure up palaces for myself.

I grab at fantasies without rhyme or reason,

from the surrounding air.

I evaporate...

Bad idea!

All three of my husbands had to support me –

I sure hope they didn't die from exhaustion!

In any case,

having buried them one after the other –

I was going to say one on top of the other! –

I started worrying there'd be no one left

to take care of me.

So I confronted the situation.

As superintendent, I rule over things,

I communicate orders, give them sometimes –

It's easier than giving order to my life.

Little by little, I take responsibility for myself.

Couldn't you get better?

I only like small responsibilities

I think I did something stupid.

I called my mother-in-law.

Unwise!

You could have gotten your husband.

Not at her home. On the radio.

- On the radio?
- Yes –

she's Rachat at PBR.

- Rachat des Rangers?
- In a word: Yes.

In three words, even!

Mme. Tartan-Jacket does overtime

at PBR!

What a story!

Did she recognize you?
- Naturally.

Or I think so.

With all the names it should be obvious.

I called her out of wickedness.

Then I started to lose control.

I wallowed in self-pity.

Oh, she's good.

I'll leave.
- No, come with me, I'm scared.

Really?

I knew it.

It's happening again.

After Richard left, it would ring at every hour.

No one on the line.

Not only is it annoying, it also gets creepy.

I would hear it ringing in my sleep.

And then there's–

Hello?

Ah, no.

No, madam, no.

I'll get her for you.

You and your worries.

It's the rhubarb lady.

She's calling back –
She couldn't hear a thing before.

Hello, madam.

I should have called you back, but no harm done.

I got in touch.

No, it wasn't rhubarb.

I'll vouch for it.

Not that there's anything wrong with it.

Ask him what color the jam was

and you'll catch him red-handed.

Yes, I'll take care of it.

Have a nice weekend!
- It's Tuesday!

- Oh no?
- Oh yes!

Too bad!

Delordre, is that your third husband's name?

My maiden name!

I took it back when I settled here.

A super called Delordre...

I find it chic!

And no one forgets it!

It's different for my sister, who's an actress.

Still, she kept it.
- Really?

I never made the connection.

Oh, she gave up now.

She married a very wealthy man.

M. de Triste-Bourg.

They're very nice, him especially.

She's a little bitter.

She misses the theater.
- I get that.

I would have liked that.

In fact–
- If you ask me,

they're a bit disingenuous.

They're like... You know...

They show off their country estate

in the glossies.

Then they claim they're mere artisans.

in the morning paper.
- You find that shocking?

You shouldn't!

These days it's like that.

They may well be sincere in both cases.

Here – When in China

you better speak Chinese to be understood.

Then tomorrow Argentinian in Argentina.

That's true.

You were saying how baffled you were

at my presence here.

Well, I have a secret.

But I'll reveal it to you.

I'm writing a novel.

No, really?

- Does that surprise you?
- I meant – What about?

- The housing estate!

All of this world!

All of this little world...

My, look who it is!

What is it?

Am I dreaming?

It's Eve! Eve Artifice!

She does the Lives of the Stars at PBR

between 1 and 3 am!

- PBR?
- I adore her!

She's a wonder.

Oh, she's coming toward us!

- I don't like it, let's get out.
- Oh, no.

You go alone.

I find her too intimidating.

- Morning!\

Where can we find Mme. Tartan-Jacket?
- What is that?

Solange Tartan-Jacket?

- It depends.
- Depends on what?

I'm from PBR

and this is my loyal assistant,

Serge Varazine.

I am Eve.
- You're the one who tells–

The Lives of the Stars. Yes, that's us!

- That one's not bad.
- Oh, it's very good.

I said "not bad." Your opinions are

sometimes harsh.
- You know, it's better to be subjective.

In life, maybe. But on the radio–

- We'll take your suggestions into account.
- You'd better.

Care to tell us why?

I'm the super of this estate,

I have the ear of the suburbs.
- Serge!

We're thinking of telling the story of

an ordinary woman every once in a while.

This is an idea I hold dear.

The dogs, Serge.

People identify easily with those in the spotlight.

It's well-regarded if the influence is positive,

otherwise, it's a true catastrophe.

If we choose to showcase an ordinary

but morally exemplary woman–

Solange's working, if you get my meaning.

We didn't want to meet her in person the first time.

You will understand, I think,

what would flow from this contrast –

the great artistic careers –

and the travails of a simple life.

In a sense,

women's issues remain the same.

- Beg pardon?
- I thought I was clear.

Isn't this going to sound similar to the 8:45-11:00 am slot?

- Do you know Rachat?
- Of c-course! I listen to PBR.

My favorites – don't get sore – are

Ira Flint's This French Existence

and Terry Grass's Pure Air.

Is Solange a listener?

I get it, you want her.
- Wait, not so fast.

First we run tests.

- Do you think she'll accept?
- Why wouldn't she?

It's fun, isn't it?

She can use a fake name

if she fears she'll be recognized.
- She already has one.

- Sounds like you know a lot about her.
- Indeed.

- Serge, I don't think so.

- And if you're ready to pay...
- Completely out of the question!

- Not even a small fee?
Thought it was common practice. - It can be done.

- Obviously, I can't guarantee that

everything I'll tell you will be rigorously exact.

For one, there's Solange's subjectivity.

Then there's mine,

my interpretation, my memory,

the judgments I would pass on everything.

- Obviously.
- It doesn't bother you?

- Honestly, what matters–
- What matters most

is to get a beautiful story at the end.
- It can be tricky.

For instance, Richard –

that's her husband –

turning homo

after he quit sleeping with his mother –

that's almost certain.

But I wasn't there.

On the other hand,

Solange may be a tad unfair

when she alleges that Richard

broke up his sister's home

when he slept with his brother-in-law.
- Caricature...

is always easy.

Maybe I should start at the beginning?

How he tried to get four of his friends

to rape her, when he found out he was impotent.

Now, that's enough.

I'm here to do my work
and if you truly are the super. - Ginette!

Yes! OK, I'm Solange.

Tell Rachat her grandkids are here,

I raise them well,

and if she wants to hear from me, my children

or what I think of her and her son she can come.

You're being ridiculous.

We are talking at cross purposes.

If Rachat didn't come in person

it's because she didn't want to upset you.

She's really worried about you.

She sent me because, probably like you,

she thinks that between women–
- Ginette, the phone!

Between women–

I am so happy to meet you!

I never miss one of your shows!

Well, that's lovely to hear!

A show for women, at last,

neither pedantic nor dim-witted!

It's good to hear that.

Because the Parisian intelligentsia

doesn't understand what I'm going for.
- Mme. Delordre!

Yes!

Could you perhaps get rid
of that pandering nonsense –

that's so out of place, coming from you –

like "somewhat,"

"in a way,"

"well, I mean."

- Mme. Delordre!
- Yes, I'm coming!

She's a bit nervous.

Well, that takes the cake!

- It's no-one again.
- Of course not!

No really, it's your friend Simone!

She went looking for a cigarette while waiting for you.

I hope they're gone. I was about to go berserk.

You're unfair.

She's so satisfied with her vapidity

that one day she'll have her posters all over Paris.

Hello, Simone?
- Ah, you're there!

How are you?
- Fine, just fine! Why?!

You're surprised?

You guess how much equilibrium I have!

You don't need to call again!

Keep your goodwill too, OK?!

I'm tired of your sporadic calls!

- Got it, I'm coming over.
- Mme. Delordre,

don't say anything and take the children.

Keep them a long, long time.

Yes, yes, yes.

What's all this mess?

Come, get up and get dressed.

You should be ashamed!

A mother of two, on top of it!

Look around you, all these people,

all of them by the windows watching you!

You're not a flasher, are you?

Come on, stop this prank!

Because it's a prank, right?

You're doing this on a bet?

No.

What if I told you... I didn't know why I did this?

All of a sudden

I couldn't feel myself underneath all this fabric.

Now... I feel at ease.

At ease... It's incredible.

- Good. Get up, put your clothes back on.
- Never!

For the rest of my life

I shall live naked.

Irremediably naked.

Well, I have to book you.

I can't ask for your ID but

your neighbors gave me your name – You are

Mme. Solange Tartan-Jacket.
- Not at all.

- Beware, you're making a false statement.
- Solange –

There's Solange.

As for Tartan-Jacket, that's everything else.

I don't want it anymore, I divest myself of it.

And this is Ginette, it belongs to me!

It's my real name, the one I gave to myself.

What can you do against that, huh?
- Nothing.

Nothing. At all.

And it doesn't concern me. At all.

I can't tolerate your remaining naked.

Someone filed a complaint.
Get dressed for questioning. - No.

You're forcing me to call backup.

Go get him! He can peek!

Do you know why I am naked?

Because I stink like an airless room!

My whole body stinks like that.

I couldn't bear the smell any more.

Officer, I don't have a man.

For two years, without a man, I languished!

I can't fuck anymore, officer!

- You won't have me believe that.
- Yes, I will!

I can't! Not even in dreams, I just can't.

- Listen–
- Yes, I'm listening.

- Listen, that's enough, I-I...

I'll take you to the precinct!
- The precinct?

In this state of dress? People will be stunned

if I go to the precinct that way.

I don't mean to hurt your feelings,

but we're used to crazies

of every kind, all day, every day,

and women especially. So–

- You can't do this to me, I got two kids.
- You should have thought of that before!

But I have had enough!

I can't live that way any more!

- Come on!
- What, come on?

Am I not attractive to you?

You don't fancy getting a little service?

- I do.
- Really?

Really, but please let's get back in.

No, first tell me what you would do to me!

- Get back in, you'll see well enough!
- No, tell me!

Tell me in a low voice,

as if you couldn't wait for my body any longer,

as if you had desired me for days and days.

I don't know how to talk like that!

I'm rather...

brutal – Let's say, quick to finish.

- I warn you, I won't let you easily.
- You don't know what you want!

Anything but this.

I find it physically impossible.

Y-you're the one who's impossible. Listen I-I...

You made a fool out of me.

I swear I didn't...

I swear!

Can I give you a handjob? Blow you?

No, this time, I have to say no.

You have to understand.

The tongue grazes the head and I can't come.

No, it's true, you don't know what it does to me.

Well, let's see.
- No, it's bad for me!

I saw doctors by the score.

They all told me,
"Come as you please, it doesn't matter!"

But my wife didn't see it like that!

She sent me to the psychoanalyst. Yes, you hear!

I cannot repeat everything he told me.

I almost died!

We all have these little problems,

these things that aren't standard.

No need to make a big fuss out of it.

Yours was a very kind gesture...

I would have liked to have a daughter.

My wife bore me sons. Five.

I would have liked to have a daughter like you.

Who looked like you.

She would have been bubbly, determined.

So I don't think I could have done it with you.

The next time you want to get naked,

stay at home!

- He kissed my hair.

He held me tight, telling me

he would have wanted a daughter like myself.

Ever known a cop who'd do that?

Un-be-lie-vab-le.

Naturally, you don't believe me.

You know I never question what I hear.

If it's true, it's true, and if not

I get one more dream.

Naked in this place. You really are a nut.

OK, out with the sermon.

I can't give you advice, if that's what you mean.

Because my life isn't all roses either

and I have enough trouble staying afloat.

Admit that you could have moved on.

I have all the time in the world.

You weren't nice earlier!

Good advice is useless.

You flip out when you hit rock bottom

In your way,
you're no different from the rest of 'em.

But you have to make a move.

If I don't come to you, you should come to me,

you should get out.
- Don't have the time, inclination, courage

or desire to. Make of that what you will.

I'd be bad company.
- And before?

- Before?
- Yes, before.

Do you think you were any fun before?

How many times did I bite my tongue?

I'd tell myself, "Fine, as long as she's happy."

But you looked transparent, poor dear.

You made yourself scarce.

And what's more, so arrogant!

Flaunting your happiness

all day long.

Happiness, my eye!

Then again, it was good you started working.

I said to myself, "It's a first step."

But it didn't change a thing!

It was a mechanical

utterly formal affair.

We're in love, we get married, no more problems...

have a child when it starts going sour.

Then what?

Yet, how we laugh
about Martin and her Benjamin!

Well, your Richard was the same.

He couldn't bear your existing.

Even though that makeshift job
wasn't all that great.

Frankly, it wasn't.

When he saw you wouldn't flinch

he went and found another slave.

I don't see why you hold him in high esteem.

I never said I did.

You had to take a shine to him.

You never knew anyone else, before, during or since.

He had his job cut out for him, with you.

No comparison, no risk.

A fuck's a fuck. That's all.

You form habits with a partner.

I get that.

But fucking happens mostly up here!

You ought to force yourself at first.

It'll come back naturally.

And even faster than you'd like.

Since, apparently, you miss it

so badly it hurts.

You should have a good one,

and all will be well.

Do everything you can think of

with the first guy to come along.

That's what I do when I get mixed up

with jealousy and all that bullshit.

Two years! You hear?

You've wallowed long enough.

That's unadulterated sadness!

You're not even thinking about him anymore.

You're just scared!

Yes, I'm scared, scared of everything.

The slightest breeze,

the smallest phone call,

the postman, the radio.

So many fish in the sea

and nice men who'd
comfort you if only you'd let them!

You no longer see people as they are.

They're all dying of loneliness.

The problem is reality scares everyone.

Impossible to live like that.

You know, a smell, skin –

those things are important for everyone.

For me as well!

When I don't fuck for a week,
everything is wrong.

I'm an asshole to everyone.

Each time I'm like that, it doesn't matter.

You'd think I was crazy because

I truly take any and all comers.

And then I'm better.

Even if it's not a real success

or cute-cute

or even gay-gay-gay,

it does me good because it's reality.

"Am I still able?"

"Am I still attractive?"

It's getting worse, worse.

I get ugly, on purpose.

I drive people away.

If everyone did that, we'd be done for!

Anyway...

May it be a lesson to you.

Never do that shit again.

I know. I know, in theory.

Like you, in fact! In theory!

Could you swear you'd never do that shit again?

Don't change the subject, OK?

I need someone solid –

but when men come they're not wide-eyed,

they're deceitful;

I can see the future as if it were the past –

who could measure up –

considering time

and the duration –

someone I could count on.

What are you talking about?

Can't you make a real sentence?

What about the children?

They're so jealous of me, clinging to me.

I'm afraid of destroying them.
- No!

Please don't drag your offspring into this!

That's another alibi.

First, if they see you happy,

your kids will only love you more.

Children like coherence.

As for the gent's sturdiness,

you'd be wise not to sign up for a lifetime.

'Cause I see it clear as day –

Nobody's strong.

It's late.
- You're going away?

No, it's cold, let's get back inside.

Remember that New Year's dinner?

- No.
- The last one?

- No.
- You don't remember the good mood?

I don't think it would have eluded you.
- No.

I strove very hard to make things go sour.

I wished everything would explode!

To let some air in.

For a change

you were getting sore

at his idling around the house

with you waiting on him.

No, I didn't care about that at all.

As for him, he was losing his cool.

We could see he wasn't making a move

so that you would break down.

He was nice, really.

Wait, my flashback isn't over.

When I talked about my job,

about the patrons at the porno theater,

about how many and how different they were,

he acted all condescending,

saying they were demented or abnormal.

You remember?

He was circling the wagons.

And you, Goody Two-Shoes as ever

piling on the poverty of culture

of those poor shlubs!
- Me?

When five minutes earlier

you confessed you hadn't opened a book

since the wedding.

That was a good look for both of you.

Marriage superstars!

You know,

when you protest so much

that you aren't like the others,

and you despise them

without any kind of self-examination

then something ugly is shaping up.

Because usually, one is calm and collected.

You don't need to protest so much.

That's when I figured there was a skeleton in the closet.

OK. So I didn't insist,

wouldn't want to break up a home,

saw the tension rise and rise.

I said to myself,

"It's going to come down with a crash."

On top of that,

you also had contempt for me,

while you were at it.

So did I.

Foe a girl who's stuck in mediocrity,

whose abilities are crippled

by her interactions with vice.

In a word, as a whore.

That night I was the whore, evil incarnate.

We had a sort of contract... That's true.

Contract? What?

I wouldn't call it that.

More like a fool's bargain.

Who even believes in that, nowadays?

You don't even live off assets stashed away.

You work, don't you?

It's pathetic when you think about it.

- Want some?
- Ricard?

Yeah, and make it a double.

You have it dry?
- I prefer it pure.

It'll give me strength...

The first guy, you said...

What's your name?
- Alan Stewart, with a T.

- Like Granger?
- No, like James.

- Isn't it the same?
- Not at all,

because Stewart is Granger's first name

and James' last name.

Like me: Alan Stewart, Alan's my first name.

- Like Dwan.
- No, like Bates.

- Now you're doing it on purpose!
- No,

Alan Dwan's a director...

but I'm an actor, like Alan Bates.
- American?

- No, my real name's Arthur.
- Like my son!

- There!
- What do you mean, there?

You know Arthur?

- Yes, I live there, behind, in that estate

and I see you around often

Arthur and Zoë stay
at Mme. Delordre's sometimes.

Who you know, naturally.
- Not really,

but who doesn't know the lovely Mme. Delordre

in our estate?

How fascinating!

I mean, it's my fault.

I couldn't tell you point-blank

that I wish to sleep with you.
- Ah, why is that?

It just isn't done... What a way of thinking!

Do you think it's better to pretend?

No, but still.

- So you're not telling me?
- I can't say.

Do tell me!

Don't bother. I won't repeat myself.

Do you really see me around?

- Would that change anything?
- It wouldn't.

But don't lie to me!

I saw you almost every day for two years.

- Two years?
- Worried and in a hurry.

Well now I have to believe you.

Yet today

you're a lot less worried and just as hurried.

- You want to come to my place?
- Right now?

- Please.
- And polite! Let's go, Arthur!

No, no "Arthur," I spent enough time forgetting

and getting people to forget that.

- Yippee!
- What's with the show?

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

If you thank me, you don't need me anymore.

Don't you see?

Ten days of pleasure thanks to you!

Look!

No more tears, no more wrinkles,

A permanent breeze!

Anybody could have done the trick.
- As if!

Anybody. Still, it's good that it was me.

Get dressed we're going out.

And the children?

Again at Mme. Delordre's?

I no longer take care of them!

You must think I'm such a bad mother.

You'd be right.

I only do it when I'm unhappy.

And quite badly, without a doubt.

What are you saying?

You're laughing at me! You're right.

Your guilt or your flirtatiousness –

you should choose between them.

Can't you see Arthur and Zoë are happy as can be?

- Really?
- Yes, really.

But you always need to fret.

I found a new protector.

I must invent reasons to worry.

I have thought only of your needs.

Yes, I know!

That's why I don't think about "anybody."

I wanted above all–
- Stop!

I don't like to talk about these things.

Kiss me. I feel good here with you.

You know... I'm through with analysis.

I don't need help to think.

I do it all too well.

When I prepare for a part, I let it come to me.

Or I believe I do, then...

- Then?
- Then I overthink like crazy!

I tell myself I'm doing it spontaneously.

And then...

Actually, I calculate, I look for marks

to play the character and tie it up neatly.

I, for one, think

I could act intuitively.

Sure, that'd be ideal but,

you'd have to tame your memory.

And when you act?

When I act, especially in cinema,

I empty myself.

I tell myself,

"Rehearsals molded me beforehand."

And when they say, "Lights!"

I loosen, I let fear rise.

Will the character join me?

If nothing comes, there's still fear.

You cheat!

No, not really. Not as much as those people

who say they're fully into their parts.

That's why I prefer directors

who don't care about psychology. At least

fear is enough for them.

If fear is enough, I'm ready.

- What for?
- For acting!

I'd really love to. It isn't mimesis.

Mime-what?

Not a again with your fears.

For two years now,

I've felt like a hunted beast.

I must have heard
a hundred times about your calls.

I knew you didn't believe me.

That's not the question!
- Of course I didn't record them.

The issue isn't whether

the phone calls happened
or you dreamed them up.

The issue is–
- Stop!

I can prove one thing to you.

You won't be able to argue with that.
- But if I do–

It's for my sake, naturally.

Yes, yes, it's for me.

I received anonymous letters.

- What?
- I'm going to read them to you.

I don't care, after all.

They shouldn't have written those.

"To my lovely, my nicest,

my little dumbass. Forgive me

for breaking in on your
well-organized existence of

wifeliness and devoted motherhood.

I know, I know, my dear madam,

it isn't done, it's a cowardly, dirty move.

Ah, those perverts who insist unbidden

on sharing their fantasies at all cost.

Will I see traces of this letter

on your suddenly fearful face?"

- Splendid.
- Obviously.

"My dearest little goose,

Yes, me again.
You did recognize my handwriting

on the envelope.

You thought I would perhaps leave you alone

to gaze lovingly at your Superman like a cow.

Meanwhile you don't see this girl at all.

You look at me as if I were transparent.

You dirty little female.

I've got to go, I'm just too mad."

Alright?
- Yeah, alright, but,

I don't see the threat.
- There aren't any.

That's not why I'm anxious.

People like that exist.

I meet them on a day-to-day basis.

I say hi to them.

But that's all there is between us.

I'm anxious for them.
- How wrong you are.

Keep going, it's funny.
- As you wish.

"You were very appetizing yesterday

at the supermarket, with your little cart.

Springtime quite becomes you.

You shouldn't wear these high-heel boots.

They make you look like a whore." Charming!

Listen, this one's from when Richard left –

"A miracle! An apotheosis!

What a marvel!

So at last he ditched?

I hope it was you who kicked him out.

You must have looked marvelous, dear,

absolutely marvelous!

I like you more than ever.

Maybe we can do something with you,

if the guys don't get you.

But beware! Don't flinch now.

No more complaining, nostalgia,

or other bullshit.

Think of me. I'm here.

Not far, never far from you.

I counterfeit my handwriting
but never my feelings.

Screw anyone you want, I don't care.

Just so long as it's not always the same guy.

I won't have that!"

- You read well. "I won't have that.

Come all you want, come all you can,

but don't ever again
play the submissive woman.

I'm taking them back.

Once you sign an anonymous letter

it no longer means anything.

I've been thinking since last time.

In fact, I've only been thinking of you.

It's a funny feeling,

because I hardly thought of you before that.

I had written you off as unsalvageable.

I mean, by force of circumstances.

And now – you're going to laugh –

but I feel lost with my cynicism

and whoring around.

Sometimes I think
I should have turned tricks.

At least, I could have made a little money.

Or got something else out of it.

Experience.

I wonder what kept me from doing it.

What if we lived together, Ginette?

I don't mean it that way, we wouldn't match.

No need to fall in that kind of trap again.

Once is enough.

You know, I missed you a lot.

It's true.

You didn't. Dunno.

I did my best rejecting nostalgia.

I missed you.

We were happier before.

No question.

Think about it Ginette.

We're not kids anymore.

Maybe we can find something again together

that'd bring us a lot of
peace of mind, I believe

Look at him.

He's sweet,

he's quiet,

absent-minded...

He brings me peace.

Don't you think he's handsome?

- I came, see?
- Sorry,

you won't come in!

- If you take it this way, Solange.
- Ginette!

Solange is gone.

"Solange, don't suck your thumb!"

"Solange, stand up straight!"

"Solange, your work was lackluster!"

"Solange, will you marry him?"

"Solange, I don't want you to waste time

on this stupid job!"
That's over, My name's Ginette.

As you wish, Ginette.

But you won't erase your life with Richard

so easily.
- You already said that on the radio.

By the way, who are you today?

The sublime Rachat?

Or simply my blast in-law?
- What are you saying?

My goddamn mother-in-law!

It's a line Gene Tierney says in a film I love.

- Arthur!
- That's them?

You wouldn't even know them.

You kept completely aloof.

I stayed aside so your relationship

with them wouldn't suffer. But now

Do you think they will blossom?

Get over their growing pains?

Find balance around such a mother?

You're aggressive, unstable,

nervous unto hysteria.
- Not a bad line altogether.

- You are close to hysteria.
- Let's be clear,

for once – are you threatening me?
- Oh come, Solange.

My only wish is to help!
- D-don't bother!

A friend took care of me. She's not like you –

She doesn't cobble the lame lives of others.

Still, she worked wonders,

and with a swift kick in the pants

put me right back in the saddle.
- I see that.

- Your make-up's running.
- Is it?

No, one of Richard's little jokes. Why?

Don't you like it?

It was disgusting to call me on the air.

What was it you wanted?

To embarrass me? To get revenge?

To spit venom in the ears of millions?

- Millions!
- You publicly insulted me,

you aired your marriage's intimacies,

and you're hoping Richard will come back?

So he sent you?

Even if your motives aren't crystal-clear,

you called to me. It's all that matters.

Let's think together

and find a solution.

And you're the right woman for the job?

To think on these poor hysterics' behalves?

Not on their behalves but, by their side.

So I lead a bad life –

And so I don't know what I want.

I make mistakes which as you said

in your exquisitely relevant way,

I can't cancel afterward.

But at least I don't hide behind a telephone.

I don't see your point. I only lend my ear

to those who need a presence.

Knowing you love clichés so much,

I'm surprised you didn't use "sympathetic."

"Rachat des Rangers gives you five minutes

of friendship and airtime between 8.45

and 11." You should be ashamed!

I listen.

I take an interest in them.
- You don't!

When they're on the air

after they waited and were screened

by your assistant, what do you give them?

"Yes, yes, I understand,"

and other commonplaces.

And should they call again

you have the nerve to act as if you knew them!

You gain time by spouting horseshit

while reading your notes.

We can hear paper rustling
on the radio, you know?

It's true – my memory is faulty.

There are so many of them.

It's true. I don't want to hurt them any deeper

by giving the impression
that I've forgotten.

But each of these calls shatter me.

You only live for yourself,
while I live for others!

- Off others.
- What?

You live off others.

How revolting and petty! You think

I do it for the money?
- I don't give a damn about that!

We all have to sell something.
So, why not sentiment?

But I find your good conscience intolerable,

as I do that will to power I hear in your voice.

In spite of yourself – it's visceral.

You must come in your pants

thinking you might have
saved a hopeless soul

by picking up the phone.

You're either an angel or a criminal.

I don't believe in angels.

Some listeners owe me their lives.

I am very proud of that indeed.

You shouldn't –
suicide is among the Rights of Man!

Do you think I will leave Richard's son

to a suicide apologist?
- What about Zoë?

Can Zoë shoot herself?

You and your bigotry, your morals,

your instincts, relations, good heart,

your threats – I shit you out!

I defecate you out!

I will not leave the kids
in this depressing place!

How can one live in such a setting?

Your luck has run out... Ginette!

- Have a nice day!
- Bye...

She sure is clingy!

I have stalked you for a month so we could talk

and never managed to.
- Is there any use?

So we can't discuss it?

You're in no hurry to explain yourself.
- No.

You really are a wonder!

The world is yours!
- It's yours, too.

It belongs to you, me, or anyone.

Well, I'm not just anyone!

And I want to know to whom I belong.

I can't help you. You know how I see things.

I don't belong to anyone.

If you want to belong to someone, find him.

Do you also talk to her that way?

I don't know if you know it, but...

you guys are officially a couple.

Not that I give a damn!

I only want to have a serious talk

to make things clear.

Because when things are your way of

clear and simple, I'm completely lost.

It used to make me laugh, but now I've had enough.

Unless...

I won't be dishonest.

No reason to fear – you're always honest.

You told me in advance,
I was not caught off guard.

Anyway, I'm still a virgin,

so you don't owe me.
- Listen,

let's not waste time. Why not

tell me plainly what you mean?

It'd go faster, wouldn't it?

You mean, let's not waste your time?

Quit looking behind you!

Have no fear, I'm not here to make a scene.

Don't imagine I'm jealous of this gal.

She's completely nuts.

The whole estate knows it.

I thought you loved me enough to tell me

what your planned with her.

A social-work internship?
Or the grand sacrifice?

Put a label on it if that comforts you.

I, for one, am trying to live my life

and it's hard enough.

No doubt, seeing the rattrap you're in.

Now you're rehearsing the part of sugar daddy

With me, you were slightly incestuous big brother.

It's good, you're getting a lot of practice.
- Stop it.

I have nothing against you.
I don't want to fight.

I'm happy with Ginette.

I don't see how I could have told you.

I didn't see it coming myself.

And then it seemed stupid to come

and explain with a ton of alibis.

Her being nuts... It's not just a rumor.

The whole estate knows it.

There's tons of proof!

Just down at the precinct–
- Have you been there?

No, but I know the captain well.

And how!

He had some peculiar stories–

I don't give two fucks!

And what about her wandering children?

It won't happen.

Good-bye, Gary Cooper!

- I've looked for you everywhere!
- I'm not your mom!

I went to the cobbler!

Look, he did my heels in no time!

Yours are trickier. He said he'll see what he can do.

We'll get an answer tomorrow if it's not too tricky.

If it is, it'll be too expensive.

And then you should maybe buy new ones.

O-or do as you wish, if I were you I would!

Don't leave me alone too long.

I'm always afraid you won't come back.

What's come over you?

Hello, young man! I knew she would finally

snatch herself one!

Is Solange home?
- She will be.

Come in Grandmother,

pull the pin and the latch'll go up.

Just put your umbrella down here.

Hi, let me look at you.

How is my Solange?

She's difficult, right?
- Not so difficult.

She just needs a little care to be well again.

She's a Gemini with Gemini ascendant.

Need I say more?

Ginette, Solange. Solange, Ginette.

How do you manage to...?

It's simple: I call for Ginette,

and, trust me, it's always Ginette who responds.

Still, be careful.

I'm going to tell you about some things past.

My daughter and my son-in-law died

in a car accident.

The kid was fifteen months old.

The police never ascertained why

the car had left the road.

It was twisted around the tree.

It hadn't snowed and no-one else was on the road

He was driving

and he was a fantastic driver.

You don't need a road map.

But suicide was just as dumbfounding.

They were young and in love,

no money problem,

with an adorable baby.

Poor kid!

And nobody knew why.

I always thought they
loved each other too much.

That their h-hearts were

too full of their love

to accommodate a third person.

Little Solange –

She was so cute!

But the older she got,

the more of their time she ate up.

That's children for you.

Innocently, they tap all the tenderness

you have available.

They couldn't accept that.

Of course,

I kept all this to myself.

Try telling such a story

to a police commissioner.
- What about Ginette?

S-sometimes it seems to me

she's as dangerously romantic as her mother.

And sometimes she counters it.

She hides behind a lot of good sense

and a certain roughness.

She can be very harsh!

As for Richard her husband –

I didn't like him much –

yet, if he left,

she must have been impossible.

He had a strong bond with the children.

Speaking of which, where are they?

Don't worry about them.

I'm not worried!

The more you worry, the naughtier they get.

I don't care about

what path they follow.

I would like to kiss them, though!

The day Richard left

she killed off Solange.

I ought to be careful. It's hard at my age.

When I call her Solange, she clams up.

Or she takes that stubborn air of hers,

like when I used to stop her from

stuffing herself full of condensed milk.

She's a glutton! Watch over her –

she doesn't know when to stop.
- Hello, Granny! Giving instructions?

Come here, let me kiss you.

This young man is much more
respectful than you are.

He let me speak without cutting me off.

I don't know what he's hiding.

You made him court you! She's incorrigible.

It's not a family trait, in any case!

It dates back to when she ran a bar.

She was the inaccessible queen
behind the counter.

The patrons were all smitten with her.

They would call her Betty Boop.
- Not so!

It was only force of habit.

The other day, in a small bistro

I saw a very nice sign:

"Loneliness doesn't exist here."

That's a lie.

I might have been a queen, like you say, but,

I felt truly alone in front of those people

as they displayed their
little lives, loves and projects.

Actually, they didn't care
about who I was or what I felt.

All they gave me was their money

and they me gave a lot.

It's fair – you gave your time,
they gave you money.

I knew he was an Englishman!

He likes to act like one but his name's Arthur!

How disappointing! Money,

money, funny money –

What am I going to do with it?

At my age?
- Quit dwelling on your age!

You look like a kid!

You can't buy back time!

New projects would be reckless,

being lavish would be silly.

You would know how to use it.

But I can't. Not that I have a valid argument,

but, see, I don't want to give it to you.

No, not at all. That's bothersome!

Poor Denise!

How tragic!

Is this your idea of a joke?

Do you see the estate? Do you see them?

People live in this shit while

you wonder how to spend your dough

in your castle with your four-hectare park.

Should I give it away to them?

No way. There wouldn't be enough in any case.

The solution would be for you

to come live with me

along with Arthur, Zoë

and the other Arthur if you wish.

You'd take over grandmother Hermance's wing

You'd help me with the upkeep.

I need to cover the walls in the big room.

I don't feel strong enough alone.

The covering is in the attic.

The children could play in the park.

It's full of birds.

Not only those who go, "Tweet, tweet!"

There are doves,

there are frankly arrogant blackbirds,

pigeons.

And the roosters take the cake –

they crow at all hours of the day.

The other day I was drowsing

and there they went,

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!"

It wrecked my day!

So, will you come?
- You know I'm working.

It's tempting, though. The castle's beautiful.

A Valentine gift!

Will you be quiet!

Why don't you come see the old paintings

in the endless hallways?

Each one has its story, I know them all!

What about the children?

And their education?

We'll do as we used to – we'll home school them.

They'll resent me later.

How old they are!

You are old, my poor children!

It's usual at your age.

I've got to run, I'm horribly late!

Goodbye!
- Goodbye!

I can't find the children.

Little girl!

Hello.
- Good afternoon to you.

- No screaming?
- Not yet.

I wasn't a burden these last few years?

No, indeed.

Are the children here?

You know... I'm resolved to wait for them.

t's the final attack? Leave me in peace!

That's what I intend to do

once I take back the children.
- What's this whim?

Don't hide behind words. This is serious.

And you know it anyway. Don't you?

I had you followed.

I didn't want it to come to threats

You might as well know it.

I put everything in place to take them back.

Even if I gave them up

you know they wouldn't stay an hour with you.

That's for me to deal with.

It's not up to you.

Nor to them, for that matter.

Frankly, Richard,

did you really think I would give them up?

That's funny.

I made a thousand bets with my mom

and the lawyer.

Do you wish to know the result of the poll?
- I know it –

100% no.
- Exactly.

Go away, nice and quiet.

We saw each other again once, that's enough.

OK?
- No.

See,

I'm not sure I raise our children well...

but you won't have them. It'd be worse with you.

Wait –

I have something for you.

I hope you know who this is.
- Show me.

I really don't know who this is.

I have so many lovers I get lost!

Careful hon, that's dangerous!

There may be a photographer around!

I have enough proof against you.

Of your maltreatment–
- Hilarious!

Where did you go find that word?

You want to drag this to court, right?

To take the kids away from me?

When it's you who abandoned the household?

I'd have to turn tricks!

Instead, I'll ask for a divorce,

so your children can have a real father.

You didn't care what happened to me
as long as I was alone.

I was dying of anxiety.

You were still the master.

Simone was right.

You can't bear my existing without you!

You talk like that only
because you never loved me. - Never.

Well, I love you.

Clumsily, I guess.

I lived through the same hell as you.

Ever since I left, carrying my love with me.

Is it because you love me?

That you want to take the kids away from me?

Is it your mother?
- No.

She didn't want me here.

She thought it was disgusting,
that it lacked dignity.

I only wanted to frighten you.

Or to hurt you.

But above all... I didn't want... I didn't...

Come on now, go away.

Sometimes, I go up there.

I rented a room on the last floor.

I bought some military binoculars.

I watch you.

I watch the house.

And the children.
- You didn't take the pictures?

I did.

I have others. Lots.

Pictures of you, of the kids.

Here or at school.

If you want them I'll give them to you.
- As you wish.

I don't feel jealous at all.

It may seem weird to you, but that's how it is.

You know...

I don't know what to say but after

my stupid intro you could suspect –

You could suspect me of anything!

And I would understand.

I swear though,

I swear I'm not the same!

You did slap me!

That's not what I meant to do.

Don't say it.

That I'm dying without you?
- No, don't say it.

That I can't screw without you either?
- Go away, Richard.

Do you want me?
- Yes!

It made me happy to see you again.

But understand,

we shouldn't start again.

I don't love you, Richard.

We'd go in circles.

I have to get a grip.

- Crying, still? Are they mean to you?

Or is it a habit?
- Go ahead and laugh. I'm a moron.

But it's going to change, I swear.

I did what you asked, you know?

I asked, discreetly,

the headmistress.

As soon as school's out,

your children are nowhere to be found.

Having said that,

it seems they're working better.

How they avoid us

when we come to fetch them – a mystery!

- Did you grill them?
- Yes!

They just laugh!

Then I'll allow it for now.

I'll solve this mystery later,

along with the rest.

There were a lot of calls.

I wrote them all down.

The rhubarb lady is mad.

Turns out it was rhubarb.

The kid has a dreadful case of diarrhea.

He said the jam was green,

but didn't have the taste. Like plums.

Anyway,

she's on the verge of a breakdown,
you should call back.

They can go to hell! I give up.

Well, well!

It happens that my novel is taking up

too much of my time.I'm neglecting my duties.

So, I too tendered my resignation!

In order to accept it, they asked

me to suggest a replacement, I thought of you,

they're OK with you succeeding me.

Succeeding you? As superintendent?

Yes, that's exactly what you need!

Power.

It drives away undesirables.

You won't get real friends out of it.

But your enemies will vanish as if by magic.

There you go –

I submit your candidacy on the off chance,

on the very same day you quit your job.

Isn't it extraordinary?
- Yes, yes...

- What are you doing?
- I made a decision!

I'm going to be an actress.

I already mentioned it, I think?

I remember it, I'm sure of myself.

Especially since I'm with Alan.

Not that he encourages me.

Think about it, Ginette.

This position I'm offering you
could change your life.

I'm not sure you realize how much.

I thought it would all stop now.

The calls are starting again.
And the anonymous letters.

It can't be Simone anymore.

You know, I believe I'm good
at getting caught in jams.

So, if I live that on a stage
or in front of a camera

I won't think about it later in life.

- It's a trade, you know?
- I'll get started now!

I already know a lot of things:

I can sing and dance, that's popular right now.

You would need connections!

I'll make some!

Ah no, this won't do!

I can ask my sister.

She must still know a few producers

Yes, that's right!

It's going to be fantastic!

Ginette, I'm so sorry...

I must confess–
- I found what I needed!

Do you want to hear it? That way you can

give an informed description to your sister.

Yes, as you wish. Sorry.

What is it? I'm already so full of myself!

Did you want something?

No, that's okay.

It's just that... my novel is about the estate...

so there might be... since you confided in me...

Keep it, keep it! May it be a success!

That way, they'll turn it
into a movie. And I'll act in it!

So – Fasten your seatbelts!

I'll stay superintendent then.

I am the woman of today,

sighing woman, sleeping woman,

soman to hold, woman who left

partying woman, undefeated

Come on, I'll show you!

- It's terrific!
- Really?

Yes. You need a little more practice.

Well, if I knew! Here, let me kiss you.

I'm sure of it now – you'll be a star!

A star in the estate.

How different it all seems with a song.

- Alan, tell me!
- It's very good!

Really, it is.
- We see people differently now.

And the setting! Look at the estate!

How it shines!

Well. What if I went and moved my lyricism

into the kitchen?

You must have a million things to talk about.

I feel a weight, here.

I want to cry.

With you, stage fright comes after the show!

Come here.

You know me well enough by now –

I don't like to declare my feelings.

I'm slow... very slow at this.

First I must understand.

- You're telling me you understand.
- Absolutely.

- And what do you understand?
- That we love each other.

Well, to keep it short.

But mostly that we were made for each other,

that we're a match. Is that so surprising?

A little, because you never asked me.

I was about to.

But first, here's how I see things–

You're not interested in hearing
how I see them first.

I'm listening, if you feel like it.

You weren't sure

when I told you I wanted to act, you thought,

I don't know...
- I didn't think anything,

and I didn't pass judgment.

I just wanted to see if it was serious.
- I believe it is.

If you say so.
- Stop this game

and tell me what you're thinking.
- I'm trying!

I have been trying but you make it difficult.

You look so somber. So I don't know anymore.

I don't want to be rough with you.
- You should be!

- No.
- You don't love me as one should.

There isn't just one way.

I love you as I must.

Listen to me.
- Yes, I'm listening.

It's normal you should be nervous, worried.

You gave so much, courageously

and with great generosity... I loved that.

Are you happy?

Do you think this is an actress' anxiety?

I must be unbearable!

- Listen to me.
- Yes.

Now, I know for sure.

Before we could talk, I took care of the kids.

The kids? You know what's happening with them?

Yes, I do.

I come and fetch them when school's out.

Perhaps I should have told you earlier.

It was my elegant way to not worry you.

What are you scheming?

I take them to a friend.

He gives them lessons,
they had trouble at school. - How did you know?

We often see each other – Arthur, Zoë, and me.

I go on strolls with them, I chat with them.

They slowly get used to me.

It was somewhat difficult for me.

Children truly are
another world in themselves.

But they were really nice, not rough.

You're a wonder!

I think they like me. They adopted me.

They trust me.

Some days ago,
they asked me what I would do with you.

- Did you answer?
- No.

Surely they didn't like that.

No, but I explained myself.

I said that first you and I must talk.

You and I?

Yes, I told you – I know for sure.

Do you want me to come
live with you? Completely?

And completely take care of the kids?

As a real couple?

And I'm not against
getting married, if you want it.

You really want it?
- Yes!

I thought of everything.

Everything?
- Everything!

You'll take classes but you'll act right away!

I know a guy looking for an actress like you.

And if we're on tour together,

your grandma will come to take care of the house.

She'd be happy to. I called her.

Life gets easy once you organize it, you know.

I took everything into account,
I'm telling you. So?

My darling! You thought of all that?

You put it all in place?

I can't believe it.

It's easy to get used to happiness, you know.

I want to believe you.

Hello Mme. Delordre? Can you please come quickly?

It's an emergency. Thanks.

Ginette! What's happening?

You scared me.
- Can you do me a huge favor?

- You're asking me...?
- Go to the school at once.

Find an excuse and take the children

to this address.

I'll wait for you.

Ginette, what are you making me do?

It's very important, but don't worry about it.

Tell me about your novel instead.

Is it still on the estate? Is it over?

Oh no.

I don't even know the title.

It's called Every Man for Himself when I'm pessimistic.

But as an homage to you,

I shall call it That's Life.

I have to run.

Forgive me.

Tonight, Alan will come home late.

When he does,

tell him I didn't leave an address.

Translation by Nicolas Leblanc,
with contributions by Bingham Bryant.