Coluche: l'histoire d'un mec (2008) - full transcript
October 1980. Michel Colucci, better known as Coluche, is the French people's favorite comedian. He performs every night to a packed house at the Théâtre du Gymnase. One day, always inclined to go too far, Coluche announces - for laughs - his candidacy for the 1981 French presidential elections. Looked down upon by the professionals of politics, he is soon supported by French voters, who always love when a clown thumbs his nose at the mighty. In a poll published in December, he is even credited with 16% of voting intentions...
Very clever.
Oh, don't moan, Madeleine.
I missed her again.
-Hey, Michel.
-Hey, baby.
Come on, guys, move along.
COLUCHE
A STORY ABOUT A GUY
DIRECTED BY ANTOINE DE CAUNES
FALL 1980
The new Omo washes off the stain
hidden in the middle of the rag.
Have you seen the ad on TV?
These two daft chicks. One of them
doesn't know there's a new Omo.
What a dumbass, that neighbor.
The other tells her, "My, what
a big stain you got on your rag!"
The other replies:
"I don't care, I have the new Omo."
"What?
"There's a new Omo?"
"Yeah, dumbass! Look.
"I grab the rag,
tie it in a knot, do the washing,
"undo the knot, and no more stain."
The other's mind is blown.
The new Omo washes stuff
just as well as the old Omo,
only now, you have to tie a knot.
So, a guy who has five kg of laundry
can tie his knots on Monday,
do his laundry Tuesday,
and undo knots the rest of the week!
Knots that have been in water,
what fun!
Yeah! Advertisements on TV
are only for morons.
I'm just saying
in case you're interested.
Everybody else,
move along, nothing to see here!
Good job, Michel.
Good job.
You haven't seen it all yet.
Coluche!
Oh, no, hey, come on!
You're good.
But they were better yesterday.
What? Shut up!
They were both clapping
and stomping their feet.
What dumbasses.
What dumbasses.
Yeah! And what's more,
they were standing!
There it is!
Coluche! Coluche!
And to have everyone recognize
and accept the legitimate right
to identity and cultural difference.
By guaranteeing equality,
developing fraternity...
And to think we have
seven more years of this.
The trouble is that Giscard
will win the election,
but France will be losing it.
I think Rocard has a chance.
-Mitterand will put up a fight.
-Mitterand? Cut the crap.
He could do anything.
Just because he tripped up once...
I failed my school certificate
and didn't try to pass three times.
That's good, that is.
Mitterand. I failed my degree,
I didn't try to pass it three times.
We've talked about this
100 times, Michel.
You can speak up if you want.
Have you seen the papers?
My goodbyes
to music halls ring any bells?
In three months, it's vacation time.
Hold on.
Retirement!
Thirty-five is the oldest you can be
if you want to enjoy it.
Retirement? I give you two weeks
until the boredom drives you nuts.
No, Michel, don't retire!
You haven't got all your points yet.
You dumbasses.
Instead of standing there
Philosophizing
Come dance instead
Come sing instead
You're OK
You're swell, you're in
Cut the crap.
If you run for president,
not only can you say what you like,
you can also comment on
what others say.
That's good.
10-15, Michel's serve.
-It didn't touch it.
-It did.
It costs 15 bucks for a press release
to be an official candidate.
And it would be the biggest
publicity stunt of the year.
Fifteen bucks is pretty reasonable.
Well, we can always try, can't we?
You take care of it.
I have better shit to do.
Why me?
You'll be my traveling cabinet.
Traveling cabinet!
Yeah. Please make sure
to close the door when you can.
Come on, have a laugh.
Being a politician isn't a tough job.
You study rights for 5 years and then
spend the rest of life being crooked.
No. No.
Not now.
I'll tell you when.
For starters, Debré.
Debré, President of the Republic.
When I see him on the bill
as De Gaulle's heir,
I wonder why Tino Rossi
doesn't go on as Napoleon's.
I mean, if every idiot
runs for office, then so will I.
I'll run.
Everyone's asleep anyway.
Aside from Tefal pans,
which vastly improve on regular pans,
what's changed in France in 30 years?
Bravo!
What about '68, was that nothing?
Oh, come on, that rich kids' revolt?
Who was it who threw pebbles
at cops with his slingshot?
No, what matters is fucking shit up.
If I run, I'll call on everyone
that politicians don't care about.
Fags, dykes, roller skaters.
Little old men who didn't get
a dime off the car tax.
And lest we forget,
I get more paying entries at my galas
than Lecanuet free ones at his meets.
We talked about it in editing,
Libération will report on you.
If the leftists are with me,
then we're saved!
Rats, we almost had a good night.
So, Jacques,
have you thought about it?
Yes, I thought about it.
It could work,
provided we're seeing big.
You're the king of comedy, Michel,
but politics are different. You can't
mess up your stage entrance.
What are you doing here?
Orthograph...
-Gimme the paper.
-What a cutie!
Forgetting something?
-Thanks, sir.
-Go on, scram.
What are they doing?
I'm hungry, dammit.
Grub!
Alright. Things need to be
very clear for everyone.
We do this campaign my way
or we don't do it.
The boss has spoken. The good thing
is with him, we're sure to get 10%.
OCTOBER 30, 1980
-You sure they aren't too tight?
-Yeah, I'll go try them in the park.
-Are you alright?
-Yeah.
Yes?
We've got to go, Michel.
We're going to be late.
They'll be ready
by the end of the week.
Oh, but...
Great. That's...
Ex-cons!
Hippies!
-Transvestites.
-Former communists!
This guy's nuts! Hey!
Add pedestrians, too, why not?
-We need to bring this to a close.
-Everything's fine, relax.
No questions for now, gentlemen,
just pictures.
I, Coluche,
am calling on slackers, scum,
druggies, alcoholics,
fags, women, parasites,
kids, old people,
artists, jailbirds,
dykes, trainees,
Black people, pedestrians,
Arabs, French people,
hippies, lunatics, transvestites,
former communists,
fervent non-voters,
everyone who doesn't matter
to politicians to vote for me,
to register, to spread the news.
Come together with me,
let's stick it up their ass.
Didn't I tell you they'd come? See?
-Yes, you.
-Hello, Mr. Coluche.
We're all wondering the same thing:
do you have a program or not?
Well, no, I don't have a program.
The right makes false promises,
the left shatters hopes.
I'll have a sheet where everyone who
gets screwed can say what they want.
The Club-Med has done 100 times more
to keep people happy
than all politicians combined.
-When do I put the music on?
-At the end, I'll say.
Hello, Michel Barbier,
for the Parisian Daily.
That's okay.
Do you have an idea of what
you'll do between the two rounds?
I won't stand down for anyone.
But here is a challenge
for the two candidates.
I am prepared to negotiate
my specifications with them on TV.
There must be some things
they can commit to.
Leaving immigrants
and the marginalized alone,
taking care of young people,
old people,
disarming the police,
setting up free public transport.
Isn't this sudden interest
in politics a bit opportunistic?
As long as I am on stage
doing sketches, I'm still a clown.
I'll quit politics when politicians
quit making us laugh.
It's a long shot.
Coluche for president!
It is now official.
Comedian Coluche will be a candidate
for the presidential election.
He made the announcement
during a zany press conference
at the Théâtre du Gymnase,
where he performs nightly.
Coluche has chosen to run for office
for the Laugh about it Party.
He's the party's sole representative,
but he is sure that won't last.
Let's hear from our correspondent,
Maryvonne Lemeur.
"My candidacy
is a socially-committed joke."
This is how Coluche,
the top French comedian,
opened a press conference
committing, as expected,
to launch a campaign.
I know what you want to know:
is it serious or is it a joke?
Will we or will we not get
the 500 signatures needed?
-Enough!
-Unbelievable!
This is for everyone who for 30 years
voted for the left for nothing.
It's also for those who for 30 years
voted for the right for nothing.
You know a lot of promises
that have been kept?
I am running for those
who endure politics,
work all their lives, are exploited
to the bone, and just have to watch.
An ambitious program,
even if it's not in the best taste.
Internationally, James Callaghan,
the UK's Prime Minister,
was received today
by President Giscard d'Estaing.
I love you
You're hardly hearing me
I love you
You aren't hearing me
I love you
You're hardly hearing me
I love you
You aren't hearing me
She said, "What have you got
In that nice little basket?"
What have you got
In that nice little basket?
Still no one.
I've only gotten two so far:
Drucker and Guy Lux.
Who do you expect us to reach
on a Sunday afternoon?
I don't know where I put
Montand's number.
Véronique!
Did you keep Montand's number?
No, but I can get it
through Jean-Louis.
Are you going to be long?
I don't know, honey. We might.
Charlie said they need it
before 10 a.m.
How many names did Debré's list have?
Uh... 150.
Forget it.
No!
You'll see, we can do better.
Write this down.
You can't say people
support you without telling them!
Sure, I can!
It'll be those who didn't make it
complaining.
Come on, write it down.
We'll start with my buddies. Renaud!
Let's put their job down at least.
Well, let's write "famous singer".
Who else?
Thierry Lhermitte.
Communist!
-Romain?
-Scum.
-Maurice?
-Hippie.
Véronique?
Connected.
Come on, it's funny.
Put "production assistant".
And Jean-Paul?
Jew.
Thanks. Very kind.
-We need a few big names.
-Why not call your pal Delon?
Alain Belon. Dummy.
Alright, hey! Listen to me, will you?
The bombing at the synagogue
on rue Copernic
which killed four,
including three onlookers
and one practicing Jew.
To quote our beloved Prime Minister,
Raymond Barre,
"We lament the deaths of four victims
of which three were innocent."
Oh, he's good. Very, very good.
Quiet, please,
some of us are working.
President Coluche.
The editorial board
has unanimously voted
that immediately following
your accession as supreme magistrate,
our priceless rag
will become the new regime's
official mouthpiece.
You feel
the new regime's mouthpiece, girls?
Hey! Hey, now! To this end,
we would like to present you
with the solemn call
that we will be putting up
in every bistro.
Now that is what they call
a national upswing.
Mr. Reiser, the floor is yours.
Off you go!
President Coluche,
having noticed French people don't
drink enough wine or smoke enough
or screw
their neighbors' wives enough,
has decided to promote this here
endorsement of public drunkenness.
After your daily grind, commute,
and political chats at the bar,
go home wasted! Signed: Coluche,
candidate for doubled over France.
Thanks. Sorry, I can't get up,
but the thought is there.
Heil Coluche!
Politicians are kind of like
the holes in Swiss cheese.
They're indissociable.
The more Swiss Cheese,
the more holes,
and the more holes,
the less Swiss cheese.
All of which is to say it's not
all that complicated, really.
Where were you?
He's almost done. Are you OK?
-Hey, René!
-I'm fine.
You think Giscard, Mitterrand,
Marchais, all of them are enemies?
Not at all.
They're like The Three Musketeers,
the 4 fingers on your hand. Linked.
One for all and awful all!
Coluche, president!
We're gonna stick it up their ass!
Coluche, president!
Coluche, president!
Hey, shut up!
I have some very important news
to announce.
About tongues.
Because the tongue
is the main vehicle of taste.
Aside from
the fact that it allows you
to lick your higher-ups' asses
so you can get, say,
a raise or an advance.
Because for me, as head of Hara-Kiri,
getting my ass licked
by a nice, rough tongue
is the most delectable feeling
I know.
It's softer than toilet paper.
Anyway, the day some guy markets
real tongues
for wiping your asses with,
he'll make a fortune.
Meanwhile,
cheers, president!
Cheers, president!
Cheers, president!
Want to get shown up, munchkins?
Boom! My ball!
We'll be in trouble again.
-Hey!
-I'm coming.
You bunch of little rascals!
It wasn't us!
This is not fair!
-Careful, you little shits.
-Oh, him!
-Hello, Mrs. Gendraux.
-Hello, Michel.
Do you remember Mrs. Ménard?
Mrs. Ménard?
The fifth-floor neighbor.
Her husband works for the railways.
What about her?
She told me
she was going to vote for you.
Well, that's good.
-And the Morettis?
-Hush.
You know
I don't talk to them anymore.
Can I have a smidge more?
Your father would be proud.
I mean, President of the Republic!
Well, it hasn't happened yet.
Here, I found this.
What is it?
So you'll forgive me.
For last night.
Thanks, Michel. It's beautiful.
Come here, you.
Well?
-Well, how many have you had?
-This is my seventh.
-You bastard!
-You'll see.
You'll wind up like him.
Go on, eat, big girl!
Stuff your face!
Michel,
I want to introduce you to someone.
This is Jean-Louis, of the LCR.
The LCR? The radical co-co-commies?
Come on, Michel.
You can lose the book bag,
there are no thieves here.
Have you had some grub?
-I'm fine, thanks.
-Come this way.
Romain told me,
this thing of yours seems nice.
But you don't
carry much weight, guys.
No, we need to stick together
if we want to succeed. We agree
on the essential stuff, basically.
The essential stuff?
Well, yeah.
Stop some from stuffing their pockets
while others have nothing.
That's what matters, right?
Maybe we can sit down
and talk about it for a sec.
That's right.
Let's sit down.
I'll be right there.
Guess it's a knockout victory!
You going to the hairdresser's?
Have you been interested
in the environment for long?
People don't know that.
I mean, the environment,
that's all there is.
As I always say, the earth
doesn't lie.
But... Can I get some tabbouleh?
But what?
The trouble is that...
you'll be elected when trees vote.
I mean, environmentalism
doesn't work as a political party.
I'm not running to get elected
but to represent the movement.
Environmentalism isn't the concern
of one side or another.
It belongs to everyone.
I agree. That's why I've come
to see you, so we can chat.
Our goals are the same.
If we aren't too dumbfuck about it,
we'll wind up getting along.
Are you OK, Jean-Paul?
Yes, I'm fine.
They're just a bit new.
What's this one's name?
Lison.
Does Lison want
a bit more red cabbage?
You see, what you're eating, I smoke.
We want a story! We want a story!
The story of the little cyclops.
Are you familiar with it?
So, it's a little cyclops.
He goes to see his daddy.
"Daddy! Daddy!
"My school friends keep picking on me
and say I only have one eye."
"Well, you do only have one eye,
you're a cyclops."
"Yeah, but dad! They keep picking
on me. They say I only have one eye."
"Well, of course,
you do, like I said.
"You're a cyclops, that's how it is.
Now leave me be."
"But they're always laughing at me!"
"Quit busting my balls
with your friends, will you?"
Alright, come on! Lights out.
On the double!
Articles L330 and L331.
-L331.
-Yes, that's right.
This is 1981,
and the law continues to send
homosexuals to prison
supposedly because...
Well, I don't even know why.
There are three million homosexuals
in France.
What?
And the left won't support us.
-And do you know why?
-No.
They're afraid of scaring off
their traditionalist base.
If you openly support us,
I swear, we'll be right behind you.
Well, not too up close, then.
No, I mean, I don't give a crap.
Do what you like with your ass.
That's why I had you come.
If you need a spokesperson,
I'm your man.
Well, I know what I mean.
Michel? Johnny just arrived.
Finally!
Meet me downstairs in two minutes.
Come on, I'll introduce you
to the king of rock. He loves fags.
Where is the fatty?
What did you want to show me?
Look at this little gem.
I thought you'd stopped
collecting them.
This one's for you.
Lady's pistol, 19th century.
Percussion by Auguste Francotte,
hand-carved. Magnificent, isn't it?
What would I do with that?
Well, use it.
Quit it with the presents, Michel.
I don't need this.
When her husband is on tour,
what will the lady do
if louts try to break in?
Why, Auguste Francotte,
if it pleases,
will give those louts the willies.
I'll show you how to use it.
What are you, nuts?
You'll see, it's super easy.
That way, I'll feel better.
Go on, try it.
Here. Think of Lecanuet.
-Michel.
-Spread your legs, there you go.
Keep those shoulders nice and loose.
When aiming, close one eye
and think of the offset.
You have to aim little toys
like these to the enemy's right.
It's kind of like politics.
The center is always on the right.
Alright, fire!
-Is it loaded?
-Fire, I say!
Well, yeah. You realize
that in the past six years,
France has gone from 300,000
to 1.5 million unemployed people.
One and a half million!
So, I am expecting
two things from you.
For you not to stand down for anyone
during the final election round,
and for you to go all the way.
If you're good at those points,
I'm with you.
You got it!
I'm for small business, anyway.
Those people pay too much tax.
They struggle so much
only to have it all taken away.
It would be nice if,
when you had an idea,
you could go do it
without anyone getting on your ass.
Exactly. You just have to do
what the Italians do
and legalize black market work.
No kidding, I keep saying that.
But...
Forget it.
Well, then, we'll get along.
I have 3,000 officials
who support me.
That's a lot!
It's all good.
If you help me get my 500 signatures,
I'll help get that talked about.
But if we legalize the black market,
I know some Whites who will scream.
Come on, we can kid around.
I accept anyone's support,
except the far-right's.
Well, it's unlikely
I'll share a press conference
with your homo... sexual friends,
but that doesn't mean I won't commit.
Alright. If you'll excuse us,
we'll leave it at that for now.
You're leaving?
Thank you. Goodbye.
Let me see that joint, will you?
Since when do you know Nicoud?
That guy's a fucking asshole.
Since when do you call
my guests assholes?
Since when does the right come over?
So what? If he can help us.
Hang on! We'd specifically said--
No.
You say nothing.
First, calm down,
we know what we're doing.
Then, we'll go get a coffee.
Hey, man, come on, puff puff pass.
Dang, this is a real man's thing.
Michel?
NOVEMBER 8, 1980
I convinced the cream of Paris's
intelligentsia to support you,
exception made for two or three
aesthetes, of course.
I can assure you
I had my work cut out for me.
I think it was your appeal
to minorities that swayed them.
They must've felt it applied to them.
Exactly.
They asked me to draw your attention
to certain issues
they feel are crucial.
Including some things
that many of us consider,
how shall I say, anti-democratic
in this country's Constitution.
I'm talking, above all,
about Articles 16 and 49.3.
De Gaulle's aim was just to keep
the left from coming to power.
We'll see.
We'll see.
-We'll think about it.
-If we rally around you,
-you'll have to start a party.
-A party? Oh, no, come on.
We already have the RER and EDF.
No, no parties.
I won't be another politician.
I want to provide a gulp
of fresh air down on the ground.
Like, it's good, it's a mess.
Comedian Coluche's candidacy
has gained unexpected momentum.
Support committees are cropping up
across the country.
But who are they?
Fans of his? People who have
lost faith in politics?
We went out and met the committee
in Picardie to find out more.
Guy Lamoiseau reports.
We're behind Coluche, 200%.
You know what happened here
two months ago?
You mean
the Amiens refinery blockade?
Yeah. We fought all summer.
We stopped all trucks leaving
for a month.
The Minister of Labor
made a thousand promises
only to send out the riot police!
So, enough! We get it. Politicians
won't fool us anymore!
Long live Coluche!
I don't like this English one,
she excretes all this oil.
Nonsense, she's a legend.
She's from Lawrence of Arabia's time.
Arabs also excrete oil.
Michel! Michel!
Michel.
This is hot off the press.
Let's see.
We hesitated between you
and Mitterrand for the cover.
Sure you did.
You just couldn't stand Rocard
having one pulled over him by...
For your information, Paris-Match
got SOFRES to do a poll
that says 10% of French people
would vote for you.
It's such a big number,
they won't publish it.
My goodness.
The snowball has made waves.
I'll end up winning
before the run-off with this shit.
When's my vacation?
Know what this means?
Yes, that we're in deep shit.
That's right,
and this is just the beginning.
Do you realize? You haven't started,
and we're a hit!
The Council of Sinisters.
It's Wednesday, kids' day.
They go to the sandbox,
make sandcastles, etc., it's nice.
The Sinister of Justice is there.
He comes along all puffed up:
"Hello."
He counts the number of suicides.
They said the pressed killed him.
The press
allegedly killed a minister.
But compared to those who live
off it, that's not so bad.
Mr. Minister?
Boulin-Mesrine:
one-all, even-stevens!
So, Sinisters' Council,
who has an idea?
-Well, I don't have any.
-Alright, very well. Next.
Yes.
Yes, I'm watching now.
Of course.
They only work on Wednesdays.
Thank heavens.
With their cards on the table,
once a month...
JP, will you fetch me the magic box?
We had the Prime Minister,
Mr. Raymond Barre,
tonight it's George Marchais
in the same circumstances.
Michel, come quick, Marchais's on!
You're hoping to govern with him
next year.
Do you think of Mr. Mitterrand
as a fully loyal ally?
I, myself,
think that...
I'm thinking
I didn't expect the question.
He could've thought about it before
signing onto their shared program.
Mitterrand already destroyed Rocard.
He'll eat Marchais for breakfast.
Oh, stop.
Mitterrand stands no chance.
He looks like a cocker spaniel
and can't express himself on TV.
For him to be sidling up to commies,
he really must be desperate.
Like you're not desperate
making the eye
at small right-wing businesses?
Why not anti-abortion activists?
Stag-hunting amateurs?
The line was
no allying with the right!
The line, ha!
You know where I shove those lines?
You're a pain in the ass,
with your right, your left!
Are you dumb?
Ally with his types
and you'll end up a fascist!
Oh, come on!
You little far-left rich kids
aren't going lecture me.
No one can manipulate me,
including you.
Come on, let's not fight.
I'm not fighting!
It's my house.
If they aren't happy, they can go.
Oh, yeah? Go?
Yeah.
I thought you were running as a joke.
Are the polls going to your head?
Go fuck yourself!
You don't get it, Michel!
You don't get it!
Get out of here!
Politicians always talk about
"average" people,
thinking they're average,
but really, there are little ones,
big ones, fat ones, skinny ones.
There are no average French people.
That doesn't exist, it's bullshit.
So, what happens?
People write to me:
"We're counting on you."
But can you count on
the support of French mayors
to get your 500 signatures?
There are over 20,000
non-partisan mayors in this country.
They expect nothing from politicians
since their backwaters keep drying up
and no one cares.
Of those 20,000 mayors,
I'm sure 500 will agree
to give me a signature.
Let's hope so for your sake.
Thank you, Coluche.
I'll remind you of the latest
SOFRES-Antenne 2 polls.
Valéry Giscard d'Estaing: 32%,
François Mitterrand: 18%,
Coluche: 12.5%.
Like red wine.
Coluche, who is also on all fronts...
Popular.
...since your new film
with Claude Zidi
will come out in a few days,
Inspector Blunder.
That's all for today.
Thanks to our viewers.
-And thank you, Coluche.
-Pleasure's mine, baby.
See you tomorrow.
Astounding, Mr. Coluche.
You sure aren't done surprising us.
Have me on whenever,
I'll surprise you again.
-You're at home here.
-I'll turn off the lights when I go.
Goodbye.
Alright, shall we go?
That was good, Michel.
Could you tell him
what you just said to me?
Careful. Contrary to appearances,
you're not welcome here.
Is that so?
-Delighted to meet you, Mr. Mayor.
-As am I.
The politicians
who are increasingly interested
in my candidacy
know full well I can get
my 500 signatures.
Because they know they've never done
a thing for small towns.
You have to chase after outside money
to improve people's lives.
And you never get it.
You just get promises.
What's great about this business,
is they invented
the 500-signature threshold
to avoid having a clown
running for office.
And they're going to get
the worst clown.
Royalty had its jesters, and jesters
made it possible to speak truths.
If Coluche wants to speak truths,
he has my signature.
Provided he doesn't say,
"I'm right-wing,"
or, "I'm left-wing."
I'm not down with that.
But if he says, "I'm Coluche,"
then he can have it.
I'm Coluche.
Thank you.
-Happy birthday, Jean-Marc!
-Love you, Reiser!
-Thank you!
-Watch it.
More?
Well, yeah!
Look.
They're elf balls.
Here, look.
-Michel!
-Yes.
You were right to fire
the two newbies!
We couldn't let them bust our balls!
What he said! Hey!
Michel.
It's time.
Time for...?
Huh! Oh, right! Off you go!
Time for what?
Cake!
Coming through!
It's coming, it's coming!
Happy birthday to our Jean-Marc!
You're the handsomest, Reiser.
Hey, hang on!
It's not over yet.
On the house!
That's the cherry on the cake!
-It's perfect.
-Happy birthday!
I'm touched.
NOVEMBER 24, 1980
Very clever.
Oh, come on, I was just kidding.
"I was just kidding!"
Oh, come on.
Caroline!
-Leave me alone!
-Caroline, come see!
Look.
He was found the day before last,
two 5.5 caliber bullets in his neck.
He had no papers on him, so
identifying the corpse took a minute.
Do you recognize him?
That's René.
How horrible. Poor guy.
He was in my employ
for ten years as a manager.
Manager or bodyguard?
Manager. I don't need bodyguards.
You hadn't noticed anything
funny about him lately?
He had been working with you
for a long time,
so you knew about
his criminal record.
What criminal record?
What are you talking about?
He was a bit of a lout 20 years ago,
like anyone.
The stuff you would do to try
to get out of the factory,
nothing worse than that.
No idea who could've killed him?
I don't give a shit who killed him.
I just care that he's dead.
Michel, calm down.
Do you think we should get
police protection, Inspector?
That would probably be wise.
That's out of the question.
What are you, nuts?
Hello.
No, no, no!
No!
No, leave me alone
No!
I don't want to see her no more
No, no, no!
No!
No, leave me alone
I want to stay in the dark
I want to stay in the dark
I want to stay in
No, no, no, friends, tonight
I want to stay in the dark
No, leave me, leave me
I don't want to see the light
I want to ride
One last time
My steel horse towards death
I want to go up there
All the way up
To the hill of my misery
And throw myself
Into the precipice of my destiny
I want to stay in the dark
I want to stay in the dark
I want to stay in the dark
I want to stay in the dark
No, no, no, in the dark
No, no, no, in the dark
It's the end of our story
It's the end of our story
No, in the dark
What?
It's Aldo.
One of the Socialists
wants to see you.
He's with a girl.
-Pretty?
-Like dynamite.
Bring it on.
Pleased to meet you. Jacques Attali.
Hey.
Hey, princess.
-Élisabeth.
-Oh! My mistake.
Hey, my queen.
I'm François Mitterrand's
special advisor.
Did he send you?
In a way.
Couldn't he come himself?
Did something come up?
-Your show is absolutely wonderful.
-So they say.
Is that what you came to say?
May I?
By all means.
I'm neglecting my duties.
Would you like a drink?
With pleasure.
A little bottle of bubbly?
I came to tell you that most
of the things you stand for
are in our program.
And François Mitterrand
will see them through.
You're lying, just like the others.
Please don't call me a liar.
Anyway, I don't care
about your program!
I don't have a program.
You seriously believe the non-voters
who are signing up because of me
would vote for you if I pulled out?
As I said, we want the same thing.
François Mitterrand thinks
it's good you're running.
He could say so.
Yes, but I'm warning you,
it's dangerous.
We respect the law, but those
on the other side are thugs.
Sure!
And you're all choir boys, are you?
What if we had dinner?
Ah! Now there's a good idea!
What's your shoe size?
I'm sorry?
DECEMBER 2, 1980
The countryside's nice, isn't it?
They're coming!
Four, three, two.
Coluche!
A quick word.
Coluche, president!
Coluche, president!
Oh, sorry!
Michel, this is Éric.
He got the Picardie committee going.
I recognize you!
-I saw you on TV.
-Hey, Coluche.
It's nice of you
to come all this way.
Lovely backwater.
And it sure smells like the country.
All this is making me hungry.
Shall we grab a drink?
Yeah!
Coluche, president!
Oh, wow, yeah!
We're going to stick it up their ass!
TO PISS OFF THE RIGHT ALL THE WAY
TO THE LEFT, VOTE FOR COLUCHE
I swear, we've tried everything.
Nothing to it. It's quite simple.
It's December. It's been three years.
There's no way.
You've worked for over 30 years.
You can't just suddenly have nothing.
And yet,
the day they closed the workshop,
we heard the politicians.
"Don't worry," they said.
And ever since, nothing.
Radio silence.
And what do we do,
what about the kids?
We don't even get unemployment.
We don't care about elections.
We don't believe
in their bullshit anymore.
This time, if we go vote,
it'll be for you.
You aren't like them,
you aren't from their world.
That's why we're sure
that you won't let us down.
No, I won't let you down.
-It's the end of the world!
-Come on, what is this nonsense?
Stop messing around.
Sit down. Calm down!
We're going to be late.
Hey, midgets!
-Hi, Dad!
-Hi, Dad!
Hey, Michel.
Look, I spilled everything.
Call your mom,
she called three times.
Yeah, I'll go see her.
-What's this?
-It's war, here.
I'm not happy.
Coluche, how are you?
-Hey.
-How's the campaign?
You can do it!
We're doing it.
We're all for you
at the sorting center, bud.
-Good.
-See you tomorrow.
Thanks, guys.
GO BACK TO YOUR COUNTRY
OR YOU'LL DIE, POLICE HONOR
-Are you alright, Michel?
-Yeah.
Yes, I'm fine.
Off you go!
Get to work!
Unemployment's high enough as it is.
Look at this.
Didn't "Police Honor"
kill Pierre Goldman?
Yes.
GO BACK TO YOUR COUNTRY
OR YOU'LL DIE
Oh, shit. What is this crap?
You can't get a lick of sleep here,
dammit!
I don't know. Look.
The logo isn't registered, of course,
but what I can tell you,
is this isn't the usual font.
Who cares about the font?
We want to press charges.
Sure, no problem.
So.
Name, first name?
The same as the other day.
I need some ID.
Are you kidding me?
Look, that's the procedure.
This will never work.
We're out of here.
Michel!
Hello. John Lennon's murder.
A disturbed man, enraged at
not getting an autograph on a record
shot and killed the former guitarist
of the Beatles last night.
Jacques Tizio reports from New York.
The Beatles represent a whole era
for people who were 15-20
in the '60s.
Fans in England are mourning.
Claude Mazo reports.
People in the French music scene
are also saddened.
Eddy Mitchell bears witness.
A Hard Day's Night, Yellow Submarine,
a musical tidal music.
Two hundred and fifty million records
sold around the world.
-Yes?
-Henri Charpentier will remind us...
Hang on, I'll pass him to you.
Michel?
The red army
is ready to intervene in Poland.
America announced the news,
adding it doesn't mean that Brejnev
will give the green light.
It's Libération, they want
your reaction to Lennon's death.
I'm against it.
Alright, come on! We're going home!
Come on! First one home
gets a good wallop.
Oh, goodness me!
Bunch of fucking assholes.
He's coming.
Coluche! Coluche!
Calmly, now!
Come on!
We love you, Michel!
Oh, goddammit!
Oh, shit!
Come on, let's go!
Oh, no.
They slashed all four tires,
the fuckers!
Mr. Coluche,
too many people are starving.
Too many children are dying every day
to make a joke about it.
I know, ma'am.
I find it very dangerous
that in France,
the Enlightenment's alleged land,
we're still laughing.
I don't want to laugh.
Don't laugh, then, ma'am.
I think this business of yours
is a trap for people on the left.
Think you can laugh about anything?
I don't think you can laugh
about everything.
Do you not mind
making racists and fascists laugh?
No, apparently, you don't!
No!
That's right, goodnight!
Enjoy your meal!
Goodnight to you all! Sleep soundly!
And die in peace!
One day, this will bother you.
-Yeah, that's right.
-You bunch of nutjobs!
Jean-Paul.
COLUCHE
BE CAREFUL NOT TO DIE
-Fuckers! If we catch them.
-Michel?
I'll meet you downstairs.
What's up, honey?
-Can I talk to you a sec?
-Sure.
I can't go on like this.
Look, I know things
aren't too fun for you right now
but don't worry, it won't last.
Eh.
You don't make me laugh anymore.
What are you talking about?
What do you mean?
I make you laugh your head off
for years and bam, it's over?
That's right, bam.
This will be over in six months.
I'll be president,
and you'll be my first girl.
Véronique, trust me.
When this is done,
we'll drop everything.
We'll get on a plane
straight to Guadeloupe.
For a year, how's that?
Just us four in Guadeloupe.
Michel?
Yeah?
Attali just called, he's on his way.
It will work out, OK?
Don't worry.
It's all good, Michel, we erased it.
Hello, Mr. Mayor.
-Hello, sir.
-Thank you for having me.
I imagine you know why I'm here.
Not in the least.
We understand
Coluche recently paid you a visit
and that you're about
to provide your support.
Yes. And?
Have you read the memorandum
we sent you on the subject?
The State Services believe
this man
with a questionable past's candidacy
is not as innocent as he claims.
May I sit?
If you like.
Help! Help!
Help me!
You've got a biker's makings.
You'll win the Bol d'Or.
I'm telling you!
Stop, you're scaring him.
You have coppers babysitting now?
Pay them no mind, they're louts.
Listen.
Listen to this one.
"But now he's pushing it
towards the presidency,
"one wonders about his real nature:
is he good or bad?"
So what?
So, you're not good anymore.
I thought those guys were behind us!
They don't seem to anymore.
The word seems to have passed around.
There are more.
Go on, like who?
The Press Club
and the Collaro-Show have canceled,
Radio 7 has just straight up
deleted their show,
and Minute's publishing
your criminal record.
My record?
For that time we nabbed some razors?
I was 16.
What about statutes of limitations?
Who cares what's on your record?
The issue is that you have one.
-So, I've been black-listed.
-Seems that way, yes.
But you know me.
We won't go down without a fight.
Jean-Paul,
send the guy from l'Express flowers.
Do I put "thanks for everything",
as usual?
As usual.
Yes, hello?
Stretch that rump, give me more!
That's it. Don't move.
Yes! Lova, please, honey,
put your hand on her breast.
Lova! Please. There.
Alright, freeze!
Look at me.
I love that one!
That's the cover! Up here.
Alright, it's in the can.
Come on! We're having fun!
Yeah! Tristan, let's recharge, quick!
Quick!
Mr. Coluche,
would you mind smiling a bit?
Just a second, son.
I need a break, I'm getting cramps.
You sure this is our only option?
Pictures with naked chicks
for a porn rag?
Don't worry.
It's not just a porn rag.
Last month
they interviewed the Dalaï-Lama.
Sure they did.
The Dalaï-Lama posed with strippers.
It beats nothing, doesn't it?
You won't believe this.
Sixteen percent of people
plan to vote for you!
The Sofres poll just came out.
Do you realize, Michel?
Sixteen percent!
They won't be able to act
like we aren't here, now.
Sixteen percent, Michel.
Sixteen percent!
Do you hear that, Michel?
Sixteen percent.
-Let's go!
-Alright, five-nil.
Michel, come quick,
they're going to announce the poll.
The Minister of Defense's funeral
will take place on Tuesday.
Québec's Prime Minister,
René Lévesque,
has arrived in Paris.
In Beijing, Mao's heir, Hua Guofeng,
has resigned from party leadership.
I don't believe this.
I don't believe it!
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!
Those bastards!
Not a word in the headlines.
-What about you?
-No, nothing!
Bastards!
Motherfuckers.
...and Raymond Barre.
I didn't rape Monique.
No more than the others.
So be careful what you say
because everything you say
will be held against me.
Plus, rape is when you don't want to.
I wanted to.
And what do you think, eh?
That Monique.
With the lipstick and curlers.
Are those there to scare off birds?
No, sir.
They're there to attract boys.
And what about the sex shops? Huh?
Am I in charge of the sex shops?
Open windows onto vice.
They sell butter in sex shops, now.
Ever since Last Tango in Paris.
Try out Kerrygold!
Slips into all holes!
Coluche! Coluche!
Good evening, Michel, it's France.
Try to come by, it would make
Michel and I happy.
Alright, big hugs to you.
Good evening.
Your love of motorcycles
could be fatal.
Be careful.
You might skid off-road.
Alright, see you.
Good evening. Your love
of motorcycles could be fatal.
Be careful.
You might skid off-road.
Alright, see you.
Hey, Michel, it's Ramon.
You said you might come to tomorrow's
concert, so I saved you two seats.
And I put you on the list, of course,
in case they don't recognize you.
I'm just kidding. No, but I'd love it
if you came. See you tomorrow, bye.
Yes, of course, honey.
DECEMBER 24, 1980
Alright.
I love you, sweetie.
Merry Christmas.
Will you pass me your bro?
Alright, Michel!
You coming or what?
We're waiting to open presents.
Yes, sweetheart. How are you?
Alright. Well.
I'm sending lots of kisses.
-Jean-Paul.
-Yeah?
There's a secret compartment in
the liquor cabinet's bottom drawer.
A compartment?
There is a suitcase with eight grand
and two guns inside.
-Why are you telling me this?
-No reason.
Just so you know.
JANUARY 16, 1981
The skin on your balls?
You sent the minister
a piece of your ball skin?
That's right,
to the Minister of Justice.
It seems the only way
to be heard is self-mutilation.
It's nothing compared to
what the guards endure
in high-security prisons.
Well, I won't invite you to sit down.
We'll talk about the details
at the press conference.
Thanks for your support.
I won't let you down.
What's wrong, baby?
The signatures are a disaster.
How so?
We've got 11, currently.
And those are promises.
-Oh, right.
-And that's not all.
Well, let's see!
Lalonde and Krivine are ditching us.
-And Nicoud?
-He sent us packing!
He was kicked out of his movement.
Who's left?
The high-security prison lawyer,
the subway users guy,
and the one who handles
detached homeowners.
Oh, and Aguigui Mouna
and his tricycle.
Well then, we're saved!
Cut the crap!
We're screwed, you understand?
They've all ditched us!
I don't care, I'm not quitting.
FEBRUARY 28, 1981
We have to go. Everyone's here.
Come on!
Let's get on stage.
Hello!
While France isn't interested in you,
the world is.
If the whole world is watching you,
nothing can happen to us.
Alright!
Ah! Excuse me.
Alright, I'm all yours.
It's a press conference, but we don't
have to be bored shitless.
The journalist who asks
the best question
will win a vat of detergent.
It's Omo, it makes things whiter.
Alright, I'm ready.
Shall we get to it?
Mr. Caloosh.
No, it is "Coluche",
with a U, like in "anus".
Try again.
-Mr. Caloosh, as I was saying--
-Call me Michel.
Can you assure us that your candidacy
is not one of Moscow's games?
Of course, I can.
In fact, my secretary
has prepared a response for this.
There. I think that should
clarify the issue.
Other questions?
The Canard Enchaîné writes
that the Elysee
is pressuring mayors
not to give you their signatures.
My question is simple:
do you have 500 signatures?
You win!
Thank you.
Alright. Jokes aren't everything.
I'm here to answer your questions,
so I'm going to answer them.
No, I don't have 500 signatures.
I have 628!
Sorry, it's actually
632 since this morning.
My mistake.
Six hundred and thirty-two.
Other questions?
MARCH 3, 1981
Oh, man!
This is the good stuff, isn't it?
You betcha. Straight from Guadeloupe.
Didn't even go through the market.
Hang on, let's have some fun.
Come on.
Oh, my shoelace!
Well, that's unfortunate.
Hey, chickadees.
Would you be so kind?
Thanks ever so much.
Don't worry,
I didn't forget your pumps.
They'll be ready
by the end of the week.
There's no rush.
Alright,
let's show them what a rally is.
Any ideas for the finale?
Yeah, a few. Look.
The good news is old man Giscard
is officially a candidate.
We can finally get down to business.
Get down to business?
Yeah, what of it?
Hang on, we started this shit off
as a joke,
and now, you're talking
like a politician.
"Together we'll stick it
up their ass," did you forget that?
I don't forget a thing.
I won't give up.
You all want me to give up! Even you!
You want them to stick it up our ass!
But I won't give up!
I won't be pushed around!
That's not what I said, Michel.
-Who do they have besides me?
-Who do you mean?
People! I don't care, I'm not the one
they're fucking over.
I have dough,
I cannot do shit for 100 years!
But if I fold,
then they'll fold, too.
I'm the only one they trust.
Chill out, pal.
You aren't Robin Hood.
Don't overstate it.
Well, show me your drawings.
Look, uh...
Show me them, I said.
Well, yeah.
Here, let's see.
Look at your dumbass face.
From afar, yes.
-Oh, yeah.
-Well, yeah.
Good evening. Thank you
for showing up in such numbers
to this latest press conference.
Allow me to introduce you
to the new candidates
who have rallied behind
my just cause!
Boom!
Professor Choron!
He was supposed to represent
the bald, at first.
To protest against
the grotesque provocation
that is this individual,
I will henceforth be representing
foot-bound roosters.
Shut up!
Alright, next!
Mr. Nono!
Representing the roster
of suicidal skinny types.
Let me introduce myself.
I'm Fallet René, a writer.
Who are Jugwino's witnesses?
A group demanding the right
to get trashed
without being repressed for it.
Hello. Claude Blanchard,
I am the spokesperson
for detached housing purchasers.
Jean-Claude Vermoulaine,
president for the association
of realist singers in women's suits.
I live alone with mommy
In a very old apartment
On Sarasate Street
Hello. I'm Mustapha Joumblatt.
That's why I am asking
for the Eid Festival
to be a holiday
for all Muslim workers!
Great.
Mr. Colucci?
What?
We have a summons for you.
What's it for?
We'll tell you tomorrow,
at police HQ.
Sorry, Mr. Officer.
Goddammit!
Think I have nothing better to do?
And what's all this about
illegal medal-wearing?
What is this bullshit?
-It's looking a bit like harassment!
-Listen.
I don't make the law.
Instead of bothering us
with your shitty medals,
have you made progress
on René's death?
Sorry,
that's an investigative secret.
Sure it is! And is handing out
my record to the press one, too?
No, Michel! Michel, please!
Shit!
Michel!
Michel!
Yeah!
Michel. He just got here.
I'll be right down.
-How's it going, baby?
-Hello.
I'm hungry!
Don't move,
I'll go grab you something.
-How's it going?
-Fine.
Can we talk, Michel?
Say whatever you like,
this is a democracy.
Well, apparently.
Maybe somewhere a bit quieter.
This is very nice, but...
Yeah.
Is your wife not here?
No.
I didn't mean to be indiscreet.
No harm done.
You didn't want to chat
about my wife, did you?
No, but it's fairly important.
You should've said! Follow me.
Be right back.
Well?
A secret poll has taught us
Mitterrand's chances are serious.
We all think your presence
in the political debate is useful,
but you being a real candidate
is a risk.
A risk?
We believe you will get
significant votes,
but there are many candidates
on the left.
We cannot take the risk of Mitterand
coming in 3rd in the first round.
So, the Socialist Party
won't help us get signatures?
I'm sorry, Michel.
The left finally has a real chance
to take power in this country.
It's not against you, you know that.
It's not against me, but I've been
up shit creek for months,
and you did nothing to help me.
We do what we can.
We're not in power.
We're not behind the censorship
or smear campaigns against you.
But what matters, deep down,
is that the right loses
and to be done with this regime.
I'm just repeating what you've said.
Yes.
Ah, here.
This can be your souvenir.
Oh...
MARCH 16, 1981
Europe 1!
The six o'clock news
with Carlos Pinel.
Coluche's bid for the presidency.
The comedian is on a hunger strike
he says will end...
When I'm invited to Cards on Table
or the Press Club, like the others.
But that won't be stopping him
from doing his show every night
at the Gymnase theater in Paris.
MARCH 23, 1981
Close the door.
Is that a good idea before a show?
I'm already not eating.
Don't worry, it doesn't affect me.
Well?
How much have you lost?
Jack shit.
I got one that was two sizes too big.
Look.
-You want one?
-No, I'm fine.
You look like shit.
Thanks.
Alright. What do I do, now?
What do you mean?
Do I cry? Die? Do comedy?
I've got an idea.
We could do a fake terrorist attack.
We'll blow up my car.
We just need some dynamite.
What do you think?
Nothing?
Not a good idea?
Ten minutes.
We denied 50 more people entry.
We're going to need to find...
Alright, enough.
You're on tonight and tomorrow,
then we stop.
-What are you talking about?
-It's over! Canceled!
The campaign, your show, the tour.
I'm canceling everything!
Can you imagine?
What if journalists realize
your hunger strike is a joke?
-I know, but...
-There is no "but"!
You're on two more nights.
I'll figure something out
for the rest. I'll handle it.
Curtains up in five minutes.
I need you for a press release.
Alright, I'm coming!
Goddammit!
What are you doing here, Michel?
Don't worry.
Get a pen to jot this down.
-What? Goddammit.
-Come on!
You're really cracked.
I'm no longer a candidate.
What? What do you mean,
"not a candidate"?
I wanted to stir up
the political shit pot we're in.
I can't stand the smell anymore.
Full stop.
I wanted to have fun
in a time of great sadness
and of great gravity.
Full stop.
Gravity has just won.
Wait, Michel!
You can't do this like this.
MARCH 30, 1981
They're coming!
Please!
Please!
No comment for now.
Don't insist. Please.
Please!
Don't insist.
For now, it's a hunger-strike induced
fainting fit. We'll know more soon.
We'll let you know immediately.
Thanks.
One more word, sir.
No, thank you.
Well, there you go.
This morning, Coluche,
who was running for president,
was sent to a hospital
in the western suburbs.
Two weeks after
his hunger strike started,
the comedian, who was still
doing shows every night
on stage at the Gymnase in Paris,
appeared exhausted.
According to his impresario,
Jacques Betruger,
it is time to end
a "joke that's gone on long enough".
This is Paul Archambault for TF1.
Poor guy.
You'll see,
they'll wind up killing him.
Don't you see it's baloney?
It's not!
He's been making fun of us!
You have no proof.
We're just dunces.
What tells you that?
We've all been manipulated.
14.7.
There you go, it's going back down.
Gentlemen, may I remind you
you can't smoke in our rooms.
Don't worry, ma'am, we don't swallow.
-Hello, ma'am.
-Hello.
How do you feel, Michel?
Don't worry, I'm fine.
Are the kids OK?
I didn't tell them.
They're at my mom's.
That's a nice little dress.
Is it new?
You gave it to me, Michel.
Two years ago.
I'm going to rest
a week or two in Guadeloupe.
All four of us should go.
No, I don't think so.
If you want them for Easter,
I'm sure they'd love it.
I want you for Easter, too.
Michel.
Yes?
This hunger strike of yours
is pathetic.
What are you playing at? Martyrdom?
Do you know about what's happening
in Ireland, in Poland?
Oh, come on. This is just bullshit.
I'll leave you with your friends.
Wait, Véronique, you just got here.
Take care of yourself.
Goodbye, Michel.
Michel, come see!
Michel!
Yeah, yeah, I'm coming.
MAY 10, 1981
-Michel, hurry up!
-Coming!
In a few seconds, you'll know who
the President of the Republic is.
In all areas, everywhere...
-Hurry up!
-Come on!
...you will hear
these results...
-Hey!
-Come on!
Move!
Four, three, two, one.
François Mitterrand
has been elected president.
Shut up, you can't hear shit.
Mr. François Mitterrand
has been elected President,
with, by our estimation,
51.7% of the vote.
Jacques Merlino
reports from rue de Solférino.
-Well, what did I tell you?
-Good job, baby.
This time, the champagne's on me.
Oh, no. We can't stay.
I did what I could.
Now, it's up to you.
Don't fuck it up.
Coluche!
A word, please.
See you, baby.
Are you from the TV?
I haven't seen you in a while.
What's your reaction?
I would say that May 10
is a bad day for kings.
Louis XV and Giscard
both died on this day.
They should be wary.
FALL 1981
Hey, Coluche.
FOUR YEARS LATER,
COLUCHE CAME BACK
TO POLITICS BY STARTING
THE RESTOS DU COEUR SOUP KITCHEN.
EVER SINCE, THEIR SUCCESS
HAS SADLY NEVER BEEN DENIABLE.
I wander through the dark night
I'm a lout
My demeanor in the streets
Makes everyone uneasy
The sound my chains make
Frightens the rich
The reflection in my black glasses
Sends shivers down their spine
But here, beneath a pile of rocks
I have a beating heart
Out of which rises a prayer
Smile at me, my man
I've got a heart full of love
For my mother and my brothers
But if you touch my sister
I'll send you to the graveyard
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I walked in the dark night
Oh, shit!
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
Once again?
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
Coluche!
Subtitling: Hiventy
A FILM BY FRANCIS MAGNIN
So, did you have a good night?
Yes. It was nothing special.
I had a drink, with a friend.
Ah, yes.
And did you meet any nice girls?
No.
But you were in a bar.
Yes.
And there weren't any nice girls?
No.
That's a shame.
This isn't the right way.
I have to pick up... Charlotte.
This is an Uber Pool.
I'm doing several rides.
Ah, that's right.
-Wait, did you say Charlotte?
-Yes.
-Does she live around here?
-Yes.
Oh my God.
No, no, no, no, no.
Do you have a picture of her
on your app?
Yes.
Oh shit!
-It's my ex.
-Ah, that's funny.
No, it's not.
Just reject the ride.
No, no.
She can't see me.
Can you turn back?
-Just turn back.
-No.
Anyway, we're already on her street.
Isn't that her, there?
Shit.
-Hello.
-Hello.
-You're Kamel, right?
-That's right.
I don't think he can talk.
He's lost his voice.
He told me, earlier.
Or, he tried to.
I couldn't really understand.
Oh, OK.
Don't put your foot there.
You'll get dirt everywhere.
I think the driver's got a thing
about cleanliness.
Ah, I see.
Who's getting out first?
Stephane. Me.
Stephane. That's me.
It's better, driving at night.
It's quieter.
Yes.
The day must be a nightmare,
with all the traffic.
Right.
You don't hear so much now
about the war
between cyclists and taxis.
I haven't seen much on the news.
Is that all over now?
I don't think with that...
I don't think he can answer.
Ah, yes.
And did you have a good night?
Yes - but it's only just beginning.
Are you going out?
No, I don't know why I said that.
I'm staying at my sister's.
What about you?
Did you have a good night?
Yes, I was in a bar, with a friend.
-Ah, cool.
-A few other friends stopped by.
We had a drink,
then we had another one.
There was a bit of music
and quite a few girls.
I danced a bit,
with one of them in particular,
although
I'm not usually much of a dancer.
I don't know.
Maybe it was the full moon.
Ah, this is where I live.
Here I am.
-Do you live here?
-Yes, the brown door.
That's funny. My ex lived here.
You must know him.
He's called Stephane, too.
Brown hair. Looks like a dick.
It doesn't ring a bell.
If I saw him, I'd tear his head off.
That bastard! That son of a bitch!
I'll tell him, if I see him.
Thanks for the ride.
How do we do this?
What do we say?
See you later?
I can't open the door.
No, it's down to the left.
The little baby. The child lock.
Yes, that's it.
I know this model.
That's how I knew.
-Have a nice evening.
-Bye.
Sorry, that was a bit vulgar.
But I really liked that guy.
Everything was going so well.
Tell me
if it bothers you to hear about this.
I don't know what happened.
He just cut me off, overnight.
Radio silence.
Niet.
No explanation.
I'm sorry.
Is this a joke?
What are you doing here?
-Are you an Uber driver now?
-No, it's complicated.
Look, I'm sorry.
I'm a shit.
I should've put you in the picture,
but I was scared...
I didn't know what to do.
So I didn't do anything.
-I really didn't mean to hurt you.
-It's OK.
I mentioned it
because we were outside your place
and it made me think of it.
But I don't usually think about it.
I never do.
I feel really bad.
I should've called you.
We should've talked, at least.
I don't know... I didn't think
it meant that much to you.
We were only together
for three months.
-And a half. Three and a half months.
-Yes, right.
But it'd be really nice
if you could manage
not to tear my head off,
because I still need it.
Even if it's just for my work.
It'd be hard, without a head.
People may not know Montrond
well enough.
Yes.
You fool.
Hello, this is Stephane's voicemail.
Over to you. And make it good.
Yes, it's Kamel, the Uber driver.
I'm calling about the car.
I'd like to know
when I can have it back.
I'm outside your place,
just where I got out of the car.
Can you be really careful
with the car, please.
I've got a thing
about keeping it clean.
I'd like you to take care of it.
I'm trusting you.
OK, I'm here, waiting.
Subtitling: Hiventy
Oh, don't moan, Madeleine.
I missed her again.
-Hey, Michel.
-Hey, baby.
Come on, guys, move along.
COLUCHE
A STORY ABOUT A GUY
DIRECTED BY ANTOINE DE CAUNES
FALL 1980
The new Omo washes off the stain
hidden in the middle of the rag.
Have you seen the ad on TV?
These two daft chicks. One of them
doesn't know there's a new Omo.
What a dumbass, that neighbor.
The other tells her, "My, what
a big stain you got on your rag!"
The other replies:
"I don't care, I have the new Omo."
"What?
"There's a new Omo?"
"Yeah, dumbass! Look.
"I grab the rag,
tie it in a knot, do the washing,
"undo the knot, and no more stain."
The other's mind is blown.
The new Omo washes stuff
just as well as the old Omo,
only now, you have to tie a knot.
So, a guy who has five kg of laundry
can tie his knots on Monday,
do his laundry Tuesday,
and undo knots the rest of the week!
Knots that have been in water,
what fun!
Yeah! Advertisements on TV
are only for morons.
I'm just saying
in case you're interested.
Everybody else,
move along, nothing to see here!
Good job, Michel.
Good job.
You haven't seen it all yet.
Coluche!
Oh, no, hey, come on!
You're good.
But they were better yesterday.
What? Shut up!
They were both clapping
and stomping their feet.
What dumbasses.
What dumbasses.
Yeah! And what's more,
they were standing!
There it is!
Coluche! Coluche!
And to have everyone recognize
and accept the legitimate right
to identity and cultural difference.
By guaranteeing equality,
developing fraternity...
And to think we have
seven more years of this.
The trouble is that Giscard
will win the election,
but France will be losing it.
I think Rocard has a chance.
-Mitterand will put up a fight.
-Mitterand? Cut the crap.
He could do anything.
Just because he tripped up once...
I failed my school certificate
and didn't try to pass three times.
That's good, that is.
Mitterand. I failed my degree,
I didn't try to pass it three times.
We've talked about this
100 times, Michel.
You can speak up if you want.
Have you seen the papers?
My goodbyes
to music halls ring any bells?
In three months, it's vacation time.
Hold on.
Retirement!
Thirty-five is the oldest you can be
if you want to enjoy it.
Retirement? I give you two weeks
until the boredom drives you nuts.
No, Michel, don't retire!
You haven't got all your points yet.
You dumbasses.
Instead of standing there
Philosophizing
Come dance instead
Come sing instead
You're OK
You're swell, you're in
Cut the crap.
If you run for president,
not only can you say what you like,
you can also comment on
what others say.
That's good.
10-15, Michel's serve.
-It didn't touch it.
-It did.
It costs 15 bucks for a press release
to be an official candidate.
And it would be the biggest
publicity stunt of the year.
Fifteen bucks is pretty reasonable.
Well, we can always try, can't we?
You take care of it.
I have better shit to do.
Why me?
You'll be my traveling cabinet.
Traveling cabinet!
Yeah. Please make sure
to close the door when you can.
Come on, have a laugh.
Being a politician isn't a tough job.
You study rights for 5 years and then
spend the rest of life being crooked.
No. No.
Not now.
I'll tell you when.
For starters, Debré.
Debré, President of the Republic.
When I see him on the bill
as De Gaulle's heir,
I wonder why Tino Rossi
doesn't go on as Napoleon's.
I mean, if every idiot
runs for office, then so will I.
I'll run.
Everyone's asleep anyway.
Aside from Tefal pans,
which vastly improve on regular pans,
what's changed in France in 30 years?
Bravo!
What about '68, was that nothing?
Oh, come on, that rich kids' revolt?
Who was it who threw pebbles
at cops with his slingshot?
No, what matters is fucking shit up.
If I run, I'll call on everyone
that politicians don't care about.
Fags, dykes, roller skaters.
Little old men who didn't get
a dime off the car tax.
And lest we forget,
I get more paying entries at my galas
than Lecanuet free ones at his meets.
We talked about it in editing,
Libération will report on you.
If the leftists are with me,
then we're saved!
Rats, we almost had a good night.
So, Jacques,
have you thought about it?
Yes, I thought about it.
It could work,
provided we're seeing big.
You're the king of comedy, Michel,
but politics are different. You can't
mess up your stage entrance.
What are you doing here?
Orthograph...
-Gimme the paper.
-What a cutie!
Forgetting something?
-Thanks, sir.
-Go on, scram.
What are they doing?
I'm hungry, dammit.
Grub!
Alright. Things need to be
very clear for everyone.
We do this campaign my way
or we don't do it.
The boss has spoken. The good thing
is with him, we're sure to get 10%.
OCTOBER 30, 1980
-You sure they aren't too tight?
-Yeah, I'll go try them in the park.
-Are you alright?
-Yeah.
Yes?
We've got to go, Michel.
We're going to be late.
They'll be ready
by the end of the week.
Oh, but...
Great. That's...
Ex-cons!
Hippies!
-Transvestites.
-Former communists!
This guy's nuts! Hey!
Add pedestrians, too, why not?
-We need to bring this to a close.
-Everything's fine, relax.
No questions for now, gentlemen,
just pictures.
I, Coluche,
am calling on slackers, scum,
druggies, alcoholics,
fags, women, parasites,
kids, old people,
artists, jailbirds,
dykes, trainees,
Black people, pedestrians,
Arabs, French people,
hippies, lunatics, transvestites,
former communists,
fervent non-voters,
everyone who doesn't matter
to politicians to vote for me,
to register, to spread the news.
Come together with me,
let's stick it up their ass.
Didn't I tell you they'd come? See?
-Yes, you.
-Hello, Mr. Coluche.
We're all wondering the same thing:
do you have a program or not?
Well, no, I don't have a program.
The right makes false promises,
the left shatters hopes.
I'll have a sheet where everyone who
gets screwed can say what they want.
The Club-Med has done 100 times more
to keep people happy
than all politicians combined.
-When do I put the music on?
-At the end, I'll say.
Hello, Michel Barbier,
for the Parisian Daily.
That's okay.
Do you have an idea of what
you'll do between the two rounds?
I won't stand down for anyone.
But here is a challenge
for the two candidates.
I am prepared to negotiate
my specifications with them on TV.
There must be some things
they can commit to.
Leaving immigrants
and the marginalized alone,
taking care of young people,
old people,
disarming the police,
setting up free public transport.
Isn't this sudden interest
in politics a bit opportunistic?
As long as I am on stage
doing sketches, I'm still a clown.
I'll quit politics when politicians
quit making us laugh.
It's a long shot.
Coluche for president!
It is now official.
Comedian Coluche will be a candidate
for the presidential election.
He made the announcement
during a zany press conference
at the Théâtre du Gymnase,
where he performs nightly.
Coluche has chosen to run for office
for the Laugh about it Party.
He's the party's sole representative,
but he is sure that won't last.
Let's hear from our correspondent,
Maryvonne Lemeur.
"My candidacy
is a socially-committed joke."
This is how Coluche,
the top French comedian,
opened a press conference
committing, as expected,
to launch a campaign.
I know what you want to know:
is it serious or is it a joke?
Will we or will we not get
the 500 signatures needed?
-Enough!
-Unbelievable!
This is for everyone who for 30 years
voted for the left for nothing.
It's also for those who for 30 years
voted for the right for nothing.
You know a lot of promises
that have been kept?
I am running for those
who endure politics,
work all their lives, are exploited
to the bone, and just have to watch.
An ambitious program,
even if it's not in the best taste.
Internationally, James Callaghan,
the UK's Prime Minister,
was received today
by President Giscard d'Estaing.
I love you
You're hardly hearing me
I love you
You aren't hearing me
I love you
You're hardly hearing me
I love you
You aren't hearing me
She said, "What have you got
In that nice little basket?"
What have you got
In that nice little basket?
Still no one.
I've only gotten two so far:
Drucker and Guy Lux.
Who do you expect us to reach
on a Sunday afternoon?
I don't know where I put
Montand's number.
Véronique!
Did you keep Montand's number?
No, but I can get it
through Jean-Louis.
Are you going to be long?
I don't know, honey. We might.
Charlie said they need it
before 10 a.m.
How many names did Debré's list have?
Uh... 150.
Forget it.
No!
You'll see, we can do better.
Write this down.
You can't say people
support you without telling them!
Sure, I can!
It'll be those who didn't make it
complaining.
Come on, write it down.
We'll start with my buddies. Renaud!
Let's put their job down at least.
Well, let's write "famous singer".
Who else?
Thierry Lhermitte.
Communist!
-Romain?
-Scum.
-Maurice?
-Hippie.
Véronique?
Connected.
Come on, it's funny.
Put "production assistant".
And Jean-Paul?
Jew.
Thanks. Very kind.
-We need a few big names.
-Why not call your pal Delon?
Alain Belon. Dummy.
Alright, hey! Listen to me, will you?
The bombing at the synagogue
on rue Copernic
which killed four,
including three onlookers
and one practicing Jew.
To quote our beloved Prime Minister,
Raymond Barre,
"We lament the deaths of four victims
of which three were innocent."
Oh, he's good. Very, very good.
Quiet, please,
some of us are working.
President Coluche.
The editorial board
has unanimously voted
that immediately following
your accession as supreme magistrate,
our priceless rag
will become the new regime's
official mouthpiece.
You feel
the new regime's mouthpiece, girls?
Hey! Hey, now! To this end,
we would like to present you
with the solemn call
that we will be putting up
in every bistro.
Now that is what they call
a national upswing.
Mr. Reiser, the floor is yours.
Off you go!
President Coluche,
having noticed French people don't
drink enough wine or smoke enough
or screw
their neighbors' wives enough,
has decided to promote this here
endorsement of public drunkenness.
After your daily grind, commute,
and political chats at the bar,
go home wasted! Signed: Coluche,
candidate for doubled over France.
Thanks. Sorry, I can't get up,
but the thought is there.
Heil Coluche!
Politicians are kind of like
the holes in Swiss cheese.
They're indissociable.
The more Swiss Cheese,
the more holes,
and the more holes,
the less Swiss cheese.
All of which is to say it's not
all that complicated, really.
Where were you?
He's almost done. Are you OK?
-Hey, René!
-I'm fine.
You think Giscard, Mitterrand,
Marchais, all of them are enemies?
Not at all.
They're like The Three Musketeers,
the 4 fingers on your hand. Linked.
One for all and awful all!
Coluche, president!
We're gonna stick it up their ass!
Coluche, president!
Coluche, president!
Hey, shut up!
I have some very important news
to announce.
About tongues.
Because the tongue
is the main vehicle of taste.
Aside from
the fact that it allows you
to lick your higher-ups' asses
so you can get, say,
a raise or an advance.
Because for me, as head of Hara-Kiri,
getting my ass licked
by a nice, rough tongue
is the most delectable feeling
I know.
It's softer than toilet paper.
Anyway, the day some guy markets
real tongues
for wiping your asses with,
he'll make a fortune.
Meanwhile,
cheers, president!
Cheers, president!
Cheers, president!
Want to get shown up, munchkins?
Boom! My ball!
We'll be in trouble again.
-Hey!
-I'm coming.
You bunch of little rascals!
It wasn't us!
This is not fair!
-Careful, you little shits.
-Oh, him!
-Hello, Mrs. Gendraux.
-Hello, Michel.
Do you remember Mrs. Ménard?
Mrs. Ménard?
The fifth-floor neighbor.
Her husband works for the railways.
What about her?
She told me
she was going to vote for you.
Well, that's good.
-And the Morettis?
-Hush.
You know
I don't talk to them anymore.
Can I have a smidge more?
Your father would be proud.
I mean, President of the Republic!
Well, it hasn't happened yet.
Here, I found this.
What is it?
So you'll forgive me.
For last night.
Thanks, Michel. It's beautiful.
Come here, you.
Well?
-Well, how many have you had?
-This is my seventh.
-You bastard!
-You'll see.
You'll wind up like him.
Go on, eat, big girl!
Stuff your face!
Michel,
I want to introduce you to someone.
This is Jean-Louis, of the LCR.
The LCR? The radical co-co-commies?
Come on, Michel.
You can lose the book bag,
there are no thieves here.
Have you had some grub?
-I'm fine, thanks.
-Come this way.
Romain told me,
this thing of yours seems nice.
But you don't
carry much weight, guys.
No, we need to stick together
if we want to succeed. We agree
on the essential stuff, basically.
The essential stuff?
Well, yeah.
Stop some from stuffing their pockets
while others have nothing.
That's what matters, right?
Maybe we can sit down
and talk about it for a sec.
That's right.
Let's sit down.
I'll be right there.
Guess it's a knockout victory!
You going to the hairdresser's?
Have you been interested
in the environment for long?
People don't know that.
I mean, the environment,
that's all there is.
As I always say, the earth
doesn't lie.
But... Can I get some tabbouleh?
But what?
The trouble is that...
you'll be elected when trees vote.
I mean, environmentalism
doesn't work as a political party.
I'm not running to get elected
but to represent the movement.
Environmentalism isn't the concern
of one side or another.
It belongs to everyone.
I agree. That's why I've come
to see you, so we can chat.
Our goals are the same.
If we aren't too dumbfuck about it,
we'll wind up getting along.
Are you OK, Jean-Paul?
Yes, I'm fine.
They're just a bit new.
What's this one's name?
Lison.
Does Lison want
a bit more red cabbage?
You see, what you're eating, I smoke.
We want a story! We want a story!
The story of the little cyclops.
Are you familiar with it?
So, it's a little cyclops.
He goes to see his daddy.
"Daddy! Daddy!
"My school friends keep picking on me
and say I only have one eye."
"Well, you do only have one eye,
you're a cyclops."
"Yeah, but dad! They keep picking
on me. They say I only have one eye."
"Well, of course,
you do, like I said.
"You're a cyclops, that's how it is.
Now leave me be."
"But they're always laughing at me!"
"Quit busting my balls
with your friends, will you?"
Alright, come on! Lights out.
On the double!
Articles L330 and L331.
-L331.
-Yes, that's right.
This is 1981,
and the law continues to send
homosexuals to prison
supposedly because...
Well, I don't even know why.
There are three million homosexuals
in France.
What?
And the left won't support us.
-And do you know why?
-No.
They're afraid of scaring off
their traditionalist base.
If you openly support us,
I swear, we'll be right behind you.
Well, not too up close, then.
No, I mean, I don't give a crap.
Do what you like with your ass.
That's why I had you come.
If you need a spokesperson,
I'm your man.
Well, I know what I mean.
Michel? Johnny just arrived.
Finally!
Meet me downstairs in two minutes.
Come on, I'll introduce you
to the king of rock. He loves fags.
Where is the fatty?
What did you want to show me?
Look at this little gem.
I thought you'd stopped
collecting them.
This one's for you.
Lady's pistol, 19th century.
Percussion by Auguste Francotte,
hand-carved. Magnificent, isn't it?
What would I do with that?
Well, use it.
Quit it with the presents, Michel.
I don't need this.
When her husband is on tour,
what will the lady do
if louts try to break in?
Why, Auguste Francotte,
if it pleases,
will give those louts the willies.
I'll show you how to use it.
What are you, nuts?
You'll see, it's super easy.
That way, I'll feel better.
Go on, try it.
Here. Think of Lecanuet.
-Michel.
-Spread your legs, there you go.
Keep those shoulders nice and loose.
When aiming, close one eye
and think of the offset.
You have to aim little toys
like these to the enemy's right.
It's kind of like politics.
The center is always on the right.
Alright, fire!
-Is it loaded?
-Fire, I say!
Well, yeah. You realize
that in the past six years,
France has gone from 300,000
to 1.5 million unemployed people.
One and a half million!
So, I am expecting
two things from you.
For you not to stand down for anyone
during the final election round,
and for you to go all the way.
If you're good at those points,
I'm with you.
You got it!
I'm for small business, anyway.
Those people pay too much tax.
They struggle so much
only to have it all taken away.
It would be nice if,
when you had an idea,
you could go do it
without anyone getting on your ass.
Exactly. You just have to do
what the Italians do
and legalize black market work.
No kidding, I keep saying that.
But...
Forget it.
Well, then, we'll get along.
I have 3,000 officials
who support me.
That's a lot!
It's all good.
If you help me get my 500 signatures,
I'll help get that talked about.
But if we legalize the black market,
I know some Whites who will scream.
Come on, we can kid around.
I accept anyone's support,
except the far-right's.
Well, it's unlikely
I'll share a press conference
with your homo... sexual friends,
but that doesn't mean I won't commit.
Alright. If you'll excuse us,
we'll leave it at that for now.
You're leaving?
Thank you. Goodbye.
Let me see that joint, will you?
Since when do you know Nicoud?
That guy's a fucking asshole.
Since when do you call
my guests assholes?
Since when does the right come over?
So what? If he can help us.
Hang on! We'd specifically said--
No.
You say nothing.
First, calm down,
we know what we're doing.
Then, we'll go get a coffee.
Hey, man, come on, puff puff pass.
Dang, this is a real man's thing.
Michel?
NOVEMBER 8, 1980
I convinced the cream of Paris's
intelligentsia to support you,
exception made for two or three
aesthetes, of course.
I can assure you
I had my work cut out for me.
I think it was your appeal
to minorities that swayed them.
They must've felt it applied to them.
Exactly.
They asked me to draw your attention
to certain issues
they feel are crucial.
Including some things
that many of us consider,
how shall I say, anti-democratic
in this country's Constitution.
I'm talking, above all,
about Articles 16 and 49.3.
De Gaulle's aim was just to keep
the left from coming to power.
We'll see.
We'll see.
-We'll think about it.
-If we rally around you,
-you'll have to start a party.
-A party? Oh, no, come on.
We already have the RER and EDF.
No, no parties.
I won't be another politician.
I want to provide a gulp
of fresh air down on the ground.
Like, it's good, it's a mess.
Comedian Coluche's candidacy
has gained unexpected momentum.
Support committees are cropping up
across the country.
But who are they?
Fans of his? People who have
lost faith in politics?
We went out and met the committee
in Picardie to find out more.
Guy Lamoiseau reports.
We're behind Coluche, 200%.
You know what happened here
two months ago?
You mean
the Amiens refinery blockade?
Yeah. We fought all summer.
We stopped all trucks leaving
for a month.
The Minister of Labor
made a thousand promises
only to send out the riot police!
So, enough! We get it. Politicians
won't fool us anymore!
Long live Coluche!
I don't like this English one,
she excretes all this oil.
Nonsense, she's a legend.
She's from Lawrence of Arabia's time.
Arabs also excrete oil.
Michel! Michel!
Michel.
This is hot off the press.
Let's see.
We hesitated between you
and Mitterrand for the cover.
Sure you did.
You just couldn't stand Rocard
having one pulled over him by...
For your information, Paris-Match
got SOFRES to do a poll
that says 10% of French people
would vote for you.
It's such a big number,
they won't publish it.
My goodness.
The snowball has made waves.
I'll end up winning
before the run-off with this shit.
When's my vacation?
Know what this means?
Yes, that we're in deep shit.
That's right,
and this is just the beginning.
Do you realize? You haven't started,
and we're a hit!
The Council of Sinisters.
It's Wednesday, kids' day.
They go to the sandbox,
make sandcastles, etc., it's nice.
The Sinister of Justice is there.
He comes along all puffed up:
"Hello."
He counts the number of suicides.
They said the pressed killed him.
The press
allegedly killed a minister.
But compared to those who live
off it, that's not so bad.
Mr. Minister?
Boulin-Mesrine:
one-all, even-stevens!
So, Sinisters' Council,
who has an idea?
-Well, I don't have any.
-Alright, very well. Next.
Yes.
Yes, I'm watching now.
Of course.
They only work on Wednesdays.
Thank heavens.
With their cards on the table,
once a month...
JP, will you fetch me the magic box?
We had the Prime Minister,
Mr. Raymond Barre,
tonight it's George Marchais
in the same circumstances.
Michel, come quick, Marchais's on!
You're hoping to govern with him
next year.
Do you think of Mr. Mitterrand
as a fully loyal ally?
I, myself,
think that...
I'm thinking
I didn't expect the question.
He could've thought about it before
signing onto their shared program.
Mitterrand already destroyed Rocard.
He'll eat Marchais for breakfast.
Oh, stop.
Mitterrand stands no chance.
He looks like a cocker spaniel
and can't express himself on TV.
For him to be sidling up to commies,
he really must be desperate.
Like you're not desperate
making the eye
at small right-wing businesses?
Why not anti-abortion activists?
Stag-hunting amateurs?
The line was
no allying with the right!
The line, ha!
You know where I shove those lines?
You're a pain in the ass,
with your right, your left!
Are you dumb?
Ally with his types
and you'll end up a fascist!
Oh, come on!
You little far-left rich kids
aren't going lecture me.
No one can manipulate me,
including you.
Come on, let's not fight.
I'm not fighting!
It's my house.
If they aren't happy, they can go.
Oh, yeah? Go?
Yeah.
I thought you were running as a joke.
Are the polls going to your head?
Go fuck yourself!
You don't get it, Michel!
You don't get it!
Get out of here!
Politicians always talk about
"average" people,
thinking they're average,
but really, there are little ones,
big ones, fat ones, skinny ones.
There are no average French people.
That doesn't exist, it's bullshit.
So, what happens?
People write to me:
"We're counting on you."
But can you count on
the support of French mayors
to get your 500 signatures?
There are over 20,000
non-partisan mayors in this country.
They expect nothing from politicians
since their backwaters keep drying up
and no one cares.
Of those 20,000 mayors,
I'm sure 500 will agree
to give me a signature.
Let's hope so for your sake.
Thank you, Coluche.
I'll remind you of the latest
SOFRES-Antenne 2 polls.
Valéry Giscard d'Estaing: 32%,
François Mitterrand: 18%,
Coluche: 12.5%.
Like red wine.
Coluche, who is also on all fronts...
Popular.
...since your new film
with Claude Zidi
will come out in a few days,
Inspector Blunder.
That's all for today.
Thanks to our viewers.
-And thank you, Coluche.
-Pleasure's mine, baby.
See you tomorrow.
Astounding, Mr. Coluche.
You sure aren't done surprising us.
Have me on whenever,
I'll surprise you again.
-You're at home here.
-I'll turn off the lights when I go.
Goodbye.
Alright, shall we go?
That was good, Michel.
Could you tell him
what you just said to me?
Careful. Contrary to appearances,
you're not welcome here.
Is that so?
-Delighted to meet you, Mr. Mayor.
-As am I.
The politicians
who are increasingly interested
in my candidacy
know full well I can get
my 500 signatures.
Because they know they've never done
a thing for small towns.
You have to chase after outside money
to improve people's lives.
And you never get it.
You just get promises.
What's great about this business,
is they invented
the 500-signature threshold
to avoid having a clown
running for office.
And they're going to get
the worst clown.
Royalty had its jesters, and jesters
made it possible to speak truths.
If Coluche wants to speak truths,
he has my signature.
Provided he doesn't say,
"I'm right-wing,"
or, "I'm left-wing."
I'm not down with that.
But if he says, "I'm Coluche,"
then he can have it.
I'm Coluche.
Thank you.
-Happy birthday, Jean-Marc!
-Love you, Reiser!
-Thank you!
-Watch it.
More?
Well, yeah!
Look.
They're elf balls.
Here, look.
-Michel!
-Yes.
You were right to fire
the two newbies!
We couldn't let them bust our balls!
What he said! Hey!
Michel.
It's time.
Time for...?
Huh! Oh, right! Off you go!
Time for what?
Cake!
Coming through!
It's coming, it's coming!
Happy birthday to our Jean-Marc!
You're the handsomest, Reiser.
Hey, hang on!
It's not over yet.
On the house!
That's the cherry on the cake!
-It's perfect.
-Happy birthday!
I'm touched.
NOVEMBER 24, 1980
Very clever.
Oh, come on, I was just kidding.
"I was just kidding!"
Oh, come on.
Caroline!
-Leave me alone!
-Caroline, come see!
Look.
He was found the day before last,
two 5.5 caliber bullets in his neck.
He had no papers on him, so
identifying the corpse took a minute.
Do you recognize him?
That's René.
How horrible. Poor guy.
He was in my employ
for ten years as a manager.
Manager or bodyguard?
Manager. I don't need bodyguards.
You hadn't noticed anything
funny about him lately?
He had been working with you
for a long time,
so you knew about
his criminal record.
What criminal record?
What are you talking about?
He was a bit of a lout 20 years ago,
like anyone.
The stuff you would do to try
to get out of the factory,
nothing worse than that.
No idea who could've killed him?
I don't give a shit who killed him.
I just care that he's dead.
Michel, calm down.
Do you think we should get
police protection, Inspector?
That would probably be wise.
That's out of the question.
What are you, nuts?
Hello.
No, no, no!
No!
No, leave me alone
No!
I don't want to see her no more
No, no, no!
No!
No, leave me alone
I want to stay in the dark
I want to stay in the dark
I want to stay in
No, no, no, friends, tonight
I want to stay in the dark
No, leave me, leave me
I don't want to see the light
I want to ride
One last time
My steel horse towards death
I want to go up there
All the way up
To the hill of my misery
And throw myself
Into the precipice of my destiny
I want to stay in the dark
I want to stay in the dark
I want to stay in the dark
I want to stay in the dark
No, no, no, in the dark
No, no, no, in the dark
It's the end of our story
It's the end of our story
No, in the dark
What?
It's Aldo.
One of the Socialists
wants to see you.
He's with a girl.
-Pretty?
-Like dynamite.
Bring it on.
Pleased to meet you. Jacques Attali.
Hey.
Hey, princess.
-Élisabeth.
-Oh! My mistake.
Hey, my queen.
I'm François Mitterrand's
special advisor.
Did he send you?
In a way.
Couldn't he come himself?
Did something come up?
-Your show is absolutely wonderful.
-So they say.
Is that what you came to say?
May I?
By all means.
I'm neglecting my duties.
Would you like a drink?
With pleasure.
A little bottle of bubbly?
I came to tell you that most
of the things you stand for
are in our program.
And François Mitterrand
will see them through.
You're lying, just like the others.
Please don't call me a liar.
Anyway, I don't care
about your program!
I don't have a program.
You seriously believe the non-voters
who are signing up because of me
would vote for you if I pulled out?
As I said, we want the same thing.
François Mitterrand thinks
it's good you're running.
He could say so.
Yes, but I'm warning you,
it's dangerous.
We respect the law, but those
on the other side are thugs.
Sure!
And you're all choir boys, are you?
What if we had dinner?
Ah! Now there's a good idea!
What's your shoe size?
I'm sorry?
DECEMBER 2, 1980
The countryside's nice, isn't it?
They're coming!
Four, three, two.
Coluche!
A quick word.
Coluche, president!
Coluche, president!
Oh, sorry!
Michel, this is Éric.
He got the Picardie committee going.
I recognize you!
-I saw you on TV.
-Hey, Coluche.
It's nice of you
to come all this way.
Lovely backwater.
And it sure smells like the country.
All this is making me hungry.
Shall we grab a drink?
Yeah!
Coluche, president!
Oh, wow, yeah!
We're going to stick it up their ass!
TO PISS OFF THE RIGHT ALL THE WAY
TO THE LEFT, VOTE FOR COLUCHE
I swear, we've tried everything.
Nothing to it. It's quite simple.
It's December. It's been three years.
There's no way.
You've worked for over 30 years.
You can't just suddenly have nothing.
And yet,
the day they closed the workshop,
we heard the politicians.
"Don't worry," they said.
And ever since, nothing.
Radio silence.
And what do we do,
what about the kids?
We don't even get unemployment.
We don't care about elections.
We don't believe
in their bullshit anymore.
This time, if we go vote,
it'll be for you.
You aren't like them,
you aren't from their world.
That's why we're sure
that you won't let us down.
No, I won't let you down.
-It's the end of the world!
-Come on, what is this nonsense?
Stop messing around.
Sit down. Calm down!
We're going to be late.
Hey, midgets!
-Hi, Dad!
-Hi, Dad!
Hey, Michel.
Look, I spilled everything.
Call your mom,
she called three times.
Yeah, I'll go see her.
-What's this?
-It's war, here.
I'm not happy.
Coluche, how are you?
-Hey.
-How's the campaign?
You can do it!
We're doing it.
We're all for you
at the sorting center, bud.
-Good.
-See you tomorrow.
Thanks, guys.
GO BACK TO YOUR COUNTRY
OR YOU'LL DIE, POLICE HONOR
-Are you alright, Michel?
-Yeah.
Yes, I'm fine.
Off you go!
Get to work!
Unemployment's high enough as it is.
Look at this.
Didn't "Police Honor"
kill Pierre Goldman?
Yes.
GO BACK TO YOUR COUNTRY
OR YOU'LL DIE
Oh, shit. What is this crap?
You can't get a lick of sleep here,
dammit!
I don't know. Look.
The logo isn't registered, of course,
but what I can tell you,
is this isn't the usual font.
Who cares about the font?
We want to press charges.
Sure, no problem.
So.
Name, first name?
The same as the other day.
I need some ID.
Are you kidding me?
Look, that's the procedure.
This will never work.
We're out of here.
Michel!
Hello. John Lennon's murder.
A disturbed man, enraged at
not getting an autograph on a record
shot and killed the former guitarist
of the Beatles last night.
Jacques Tizio reports from New York.
The Beatles represent a whole era
for people who were 15-20
in the '60s.
Fans in England are mourning.
Claude Mazo reports.
People in the French music scene
are also saddened.
Eddy Mitchell bears witness.
A Hard Day's Night, Yellow Submarine,
a musical tidal music.
Two hundred and fifty million records
sold around the world.
-Yes?
-Henri Charpentier will remind us...
Hang on, I'll pass him to you.
Michel?
The red army
is ready to intervene in Poland.
America announced the news,
adding it doesn't mean that Brejnev
will give the green light.
It's Libération, they want
your reaction to Lennon's death.
I'm against it.
Alright, come on! We're going home!
Come on! First one home
gets a good wallop.
Oh, goodness me!
Bunch of fucking assholes.
He's coming.
Coluche! Coluche!
Calmly, now!
Come on!
We love you, Michel!
Oh, goddammit!
Oh, shit!
Come on, let's go!
Oh, no.
They slashed all four tires,
the fuckers!
Mr. Coluche,
too many people are starving.
Too many children are dying every day
to make a joke about it.
I know, ma'am.
I find it very dangerous
that in France,
the Enlightenment's alleged land,
we're still laughing.
I don't want to laugh.
Don't laugh, then, ma'am.
I think this business of yours
is a trap for people on the left.
Think you can laugh about anything?
I don't think you can laugh
about everything.
Do you not mind
making racists and fascists laugh?
No, apparently, you don't!
No!
That's right, goodnight!
Enjoy your meal!
Goodnight to you all! Sleep soundly!
And die in peace!
One day, this will bother you.
-Yeah, that's right.
-You bunch of nutjobs!
Jean-Paul.
COLUCHE
BE CAREFUL NOT TO DIE
-Fuckers! If we catch them.
-Michel?
I'll meet you downstairs.
What's up, honey?
-Can I talk to you a sec?
-Sure.
I can't go on like this.
Look, I know things
aren't too fun for you right now
but don't worry, it won't last.
Eh.
You don't make me laugh anymore.
What are you talking about?
What do you mean?
I make you laugh your head off
for years and bam, it's over?
That's right, bam.
This will be over in six months.
I'll be president,
and you'll be my first girl.
Véronique, trust me.
When this is done,
we'll drop everything.
We'll get on a plane
straight to Guadeloupe.
For a year, how's that?
Just us four in Guadeloupe.
Michel?
Yeah?
Attali just called, he's on his way.
It will work out, OK?
Don't worry.
It's all good, Michel, we erased it.
Hello, Mr. Mayor.
-Hello, sir.
-Thank you for having me.
I imagine you know why I'm here.
Not in the least.
We understand
Coluche recently paid you a visit
and that you're about
to provide your support.
Yes. And?
Have you read the memorandum
we sent you on the subject?
The State Services believe
this man
with a questionable past's candidacy
is not as innocent as he claims.
May I sit?
If you like.
Help! Help!
Help me!
You've got a biker's makings.
You'll win the Bol d'Or.
I'm telling you!
Stop, you're scaring him.
You have coppers babysitting now?
Pay them no mind, they're louts.
Listen.
Listen to this one.
"But now he's pushing it
towards the presidency,
"one wonders about his real nature:
is he good or bad?"
So what?
So, you're not good anymore.
I thought those guys were behind us!
They don't seem to anymore.
The word seems to have passed around.
There are more.
Go on, like who?
The Press Club
and the Collaro-Show have canceled,
Radio 7 has just straight up
deleted their show,
and Minute's publishing
your criminal record.
My record?
For that time we nabbed some razors?
I was 16.
What about statutes of limitations?
Who cares what's on your record?
The issue is that you have one.
-So, I've been black-listed.
-Seems that way, yes.
But you know me.
We won't go down without a fight.
Jean-Paul,
send the guy from l'Express flowers.
Do I put "thanks for everything",
as usual?
As usual.
Yes, hello?
Stretch that rump, give me more!
That's it. Don't move.
Yes! Lova, please, honey,
put your hand on her breast.
Lova! Please. There.
Alright, freeze!
Look at me.
I love that one!
That's the cover! Up here.
Alright, it's in the can.
Come on! We're having fun!
Yeah! Tristan, let's recharge, quick!
Quick!
Mr. Coluche,
would you mind smiling a bit?
Just a second, son.
I need a break, I'm getting cramps.
You sure this is our only option?
Pictures with naked chicks
for a porn rag?
Don't worry.
It's not just a porn rag.
Last month
they interviewed the Dalaï-Lama.
Sure they did.
The Dalaï-Lama posed with strippers.
It beats nothing, doesn't it?
You won't believe this.
Sixteen percent of people
plan to vote for you!
The Sofres poll just came out.
Do you realize, Michel?
Sixteen percent!
They won't be able to act
like we aren't here, now.
Sixteen percent, Michel.
Sixteen percent!
Do you hear that, Michel?
Sixteen percent.
-Let's go!
-Alright, five-nil.
Michel, come quick,
they're going to announce the poll.
The Minister of Defense's funeral
will take place on Tuesday.
Québec's Prime Minister,
René Lévesque,
has arrived in Paris.
In Beijing, Mao's heir, Hua Guofeng,
has resigned from party leadership.
I don't believe this.
I don't believe it!
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!
Those bastards!
Not a word in the headlines.
-What about you?
-No, nothing!
Bastards!
Motherfuckers.
...and Raymond Barre.
I didn't rape Monique.
No more than the others.
So be careful what you say
because everything you say
will be held against me.
Plus, rape is when you don't want to.
I wanted to.
And what do you think, eh?
That Monique.
With the lipstick and curlers.
Are those there to scare off birds?
No, sir.
They're there to attract boys.
And what about the sex shops? Huh?
Am I in charge of the sex shops?
Open windows onto vice.
They sell butter in sex shops, now.
Ever since Last Tango in Paris.
Try out Kerrygold!
Slips into all holes!
Coluche! Coluche!
Good evening, Michel, it's France.
Try to come by, it would make
Michel and I happy.
Alright, big hugs to you.
Good evening.
Your love of motorcycles
could be fatal.
Be careful.
You might skid off-road.
Alright, see you.
Good evening. Your love
of motorcycles could be fatal.
Be careful.
You might skid off-road.
Alright, see you.
Hey, Michel, it's Ramon.
You said you might come to tomorrow's
concert, so I saved you two seats.
And I put you on the list, of course,
in case they don't recognize you.
I'm just kidding. No, but I'd love it
if you came. See you tomorrow, bye.
Yes, of course, honey.
DECEMBER 24, 1980
Alright.
I love you, sweetie.
Merry Christmas.
Will you pass me your bro?
Alright, Michel!
You coming or what?
We're waiting to open presents.
Yes, sweetheart. How are you?
Alright. Well.
I'm sending lots of kisses.
-Jean-Paul.
-Yeah?
There's a secret compartment in
the liquor cabinet's bottom drawer.
A compartment?
There is a suitcase with eight grand
and two guns inside.
-Why are you telling me this?
-No reason.
Just so you know.
JANUARY 16, 1981
The skin on your balls?
You sent the minister
a piece of your ball skin?
That's right,
to the Minister of Justice.
It seems the only way
to be heard is self-mutilation.
It's nothing compared to
what the guards endure
in high-security prisons.
Well, I won't invite you to sit down.
We'll talk about the details
at the press conference.
Thanks for your support.
I won't let you down.
What's wrong, baby?
The signatures are a disaster.
How so?
We've got 11, currently.
And those are promises.
-Oh, right.
-And that's not all.
Well, let's see!
Lalonde and Krivine are ditching us.
-And Nicoud?
-He sent us packing!
He was kicked out of his movement.
Who's left?
The high-security prison lawyer,
the subway users guy,
and the one who handles
detached homeowners.
Oh, and Aguigui Mouna
and his tricycle.
Well then, we're saved!
Cut the crap!
We're screwed, you understand?
They've all ditched us!
I don't care, I'm not quitting.
FEBRUARY 28, 1981
We have to go. Everyone's here.
Come on!
Let's get on stage.
Hello!
While France isn't interested in you,
the world is.
If the whole world is watching you,
nothing can happen to us.
Alright!
Ah! Excuse me.
Alright, I'm all yours.
It's a press conference, but we don't
have to be bored shitless.
The journalist who asks
the best question
will win a vat of detergent.
It's Omo, it makes things whiter.
Alright, I'm ready.
Shall we get to it?
Mr. Caloosh.
No, it is "Coluche",
with a U, like in "anus".
Try again.
-Mr. Caloosh, as I was saying--
-Call me Michel.
Can you assure us that your candidacy
is not one of Moscow's games?
Of course, I can.
In fact, my secretary
has prepared a response for this.
There. I think that should
clarify the issue.
Other questions?
The Canard Enchaîné writes
that the Elysee
is pressuring mayors
not to give you their signatures.
My question is simple:
do you have 500 signatures?
You win!
Thank you.
Alright. Jokes aren't everything.
I'm here to answer your questions,
so I'm going to answer them.
No, I don't have 500 signatures.
I have 628!
Sorry, it's actually
632 since this morning.
My mistake.
Six hundred and thirty-two.
Other questions?
MARCH 3, 1981
Oh, man!
This is the good stuff, isn't it?
You betcha. Straight from Guadeloupe.
Didn't even go through the market.
Hang on, let's have some fun.
Come on.
Oh, my shoelace!
Well, that's unfortunate.
Hey, chickadees.
Would you be so kind?
Thanks ever so much.
Don't worry,
I didn't forget your pumps.
They'll be ready
by the end of the week.
There's no rush.
Alright,
let's show them what a rally is.
Any ideas for the finale?
Yeah, a few. Look.
The good news is old man Giscard
is officially a candidate.
We can finally get down to business.
Get down to business?
Yeah, what of it?
Hang on, we started this shit off
as a joke,
and now, you're talking
like a politician.
"Together we'll stick it
up their ass," did you forget that?
I don't forget a thing.
I won't give up.
You all want me to give up! Even you!
You want them to stick it up our ass!
But I won't give up!
I won't be pushed around!
That's not what I said, Michel.
-Who do they have besides me?
-Who do you mean?
People! I don't care, I'm not the one
they're fucking over.
I have dough,
I cannot do shit for 100 years!
But if I fold,
then they'll fold, too.
I'm the only one they trust.
Chill out, pal.
You aren't Robin Hood.
Don't overstate it.
Well, show me your drawings.
Look, uh...
Show me them, I said.
Well, yeah.
Here, let's see.
Look at your dumbass face.
From afar, yes.
-Oh, yeah.
-Well, yeah.
Good evening. Thank you
for showing up in such numbers
to this latest press conference.
Allow me to introduce you
to the new candidates
who have rallied behind
my just cause!
Boom!
Professor Choron!
He was supposed to represent
the bald, at first.
To protest against
the grotesque provocation
that is this individual,
I will henceforth be representing
foot-bound roosters.
Shut up!
Alright, next!
Mr. Nono!
Representing the roster
of suicidal skinny types.
Let me introduce myself.
I'm Fallet René, a writer.
Who are Jugwino's witnesses?
A group demanding the right
to get trashed
without being repressed for it.
Hello. Claude Blanchard,
I am the spokesperson
for detached housing purchasers.
Jean-Claude Vermoulaine,
president for the association
of realist singers in women's suits.
I live alone with mommy
In a very old apartment
On Sarasate Street
Hello. I'm Mustapha Joumblatt.
That's why I am asking
for the Eid Festival
to be a holiday
for all Muslim workers!
Great.
Mr. Colucci?
What?
We have a summons for you.
What's it for?
We'll tell you tomorrow,
at police HQ.
Sorry, Mr. Officer.
Goddammit!
Think I have nothing better to do?
And what's all this about
illegal medal-wearing?
What is this bullshit?
-It's looking a bit like harassment!
-Listen.
I don't make the law.
Instead of bothering us
with your shitty medals,
have you made progress
on René's death?
Sorry,
that's an investigative secret.
Sure it is! And is handing out
my record to the press one, too?
No, Michel! Michel, please!
Shit!
Michel!
Michel!
Yeah!
Michel. He just got here.
I'll be right down.
-How's it going, baby?
-Hello.
I'm hungry!
Don't move,
I'll go grab you something.
-How's it going?
-Fine.
Can we talk, Michel?
Say whatever you like,
this is a democracy.
Well, apparently.
Maybe somewhere a bit quieter.
This is very nice, but...
Yeah.
Is your wife not here?
No.
I didn't mean to be indiscreet.
No harm done.
You didn't want to chat
about my wife, did you?
No, but it's fairly important.
You should've said! Follow me.
Be right back.
Well?
A secret poll has taught us
Mitterrand's chances are serious.
We all think your presence
in the political debate is useful,
but you being a real candidate
is a risk.
A risk?
We believe you will get
significant votes,
but there are many candidates
on the left.
We cannot take the risk of Mitterand
coming in 3rd in the first round.
So, the Socialist Party
won't help us get signatures?
I'm sorry, Michel.
The left finally has a real chance
to take power in this country.
It's not against you, you know that.
It's not against me, but I've been
up shit creek for months,
and you did nothing to help me.
We do what we can.
We're not in power.
We're not behind the censorship
or smear campaigns against you.
But what matters, deep down,
is that the right loses
and to be done with this regime.
I'm just repeating what you've said.
Yes.
Ah, here.
This can be your souvenir.
Oh...
MARCH 16, 1981
Europe 1!
The six o'clock news
with Carlos Pinel.
Coluche's bid for the presidency.
The comedian is on a hunger strike
he says will end...
When I'm invited to Cards on Table
or the Press Club, like the others.
But that won't be stopping him
from doing his show every night
at the Gymnase theater in Paris.
MARCH 23, 1981
Close the door.
Is that a good idea before a show?
I'm already not eating.
Don't worry, it doesn't affect me.
Well?
How much have you lost?
Jack shit.
I got one that was two sizes too big.
Look.
-You want one?
-No, I'm fine.
You look like shit.
Thanks.
Alright. What do I do, now?
What do you mean?
Do I cry? Die? Do comedy?
I've got an idea.
We could do a fake terrorist attack.
We'll blow up my car.
We just need some dynamite.
What do you think?
Nothing?
Not a good idea?
Ten minutes.
We denied 50 more people entry.
We're going to need to find...
Alright, enough.
You're on tonight and tomorrow,
then we stop.
-What are you talking about?
-It's over! Canceled!
The campaign, your show, the tour.
I'm canceling everything!
Can you imagine?
What if journalists realize
your hunger strike is a joke?
-I know, but...
-There is no "but"!
You're on two more nights.
I'll figure something out
for the rest. I'll handle it.
Curtains up in five minutes.
I need you for a press release.
Alright, I'm coming!
Goddammit!
What are you doing here, Michel?
Don't worry.
Get a pen to jot this down.
-What? Goddammit.
-Come on!
You're really cracked.
I'm no longer a candidate.
What? What do you mean,
"not a candidate"?
I wanted to stir up
the political shit pot we're in.
I can't stand the smell anymore.
Full stop.
I wanted to have fun
in a time of great sadness
and of great gravity.
Full stop.
Gravity has just won.
Wait, Michel!
You can't do this like this.
MARCH 30, 1981
They're coming!
Please!
Please!
No comment for now.
Don't insist. Please.
Please!
Don't insist.
For now, it's a hunger-strike induced
fainting fit. We'll know more soon.
We'll let you know immediately.
Thanks.
One more word, sir.
No, thank you.
Well, there you go.
This morning, Coluche,
who was running for president,
was sent to a hospital
in the western suburbs.
Two weeks after
his hunger strike started,
the comedian, who was still
doing shows every night
on stage at the Gymnase in Paris,
appeared exhausted.
According to his impresario,
Jacques Betruger,
it is time to end
a "joke that's gone on long enough".
This is Paul Archambault for TF1.
Poor guy.
You'll see,
they'll wind up killing him.
Don't you see it's baloney?
It's not!
He's been making fun of us!
You have no proof.
We're just dunces.
What tells you that?
We've all been manipulated.
14.7.
There you go, it's going back down.
Gentlemen, may I remind you
you can't smoke in our rooms.
Don't worry, ma'am, we don't swallow.
-Hello, ma'am.
-Hello.
How do you feel, Michel?
Don't worry, I'm fine.
Are the kids OK?
I didn't tell them.
They're at my mom's.
That's a nice little dress.
Is it new?
You gave it to me, Michel.
Two years ago.
I'm going to rest
a week or two in Guadeloupe.
All four of us should go.
No, I don't think so.
If you want them for Easter,
I'm sure they'd love it.
I want you for Easter, too.
Michel.
Yes?
This hunger strike of yours
is pathetic.
What are you playing at? Martyrdom?
Do you know about what's happening
in Ireland, in Poland?
Oh, come on. This is just bullshit.
I'll leave you with your friends.
Wait, Véronique, you just got here.
Take care of yourself.
Goodbye, Michel.
Michel, come see!
Michel!
Yeah, yeah, I'm coming.
MAY 10, 1981
-Michel, hurry up!
-Coming!
In a few seconds, you'll know who
the President of the Republic is.
In all areas, everywhere...
-Hurry up!
-Come on!
...you will hear
these results...
-Hey!
-Come on!
Move!
Four, three, two, one.
François Mitterrand
has been elected president.
Shut up, you can't hear shit.
Mr. François Mitterrand
has been elected President,
with, by our estimation,
51.7% of the vote.
Jacques Merlino
reports from rue de Solférino.
-Well, what did I tell you?
-Good job, baby.
This time, the champagne's on me.
Oh, no. We can't stay.
I did what I could.
Now, it's up to you.
Don't fuck it up.
Coluche!
A word, please.
See you, baby.
Are you from the TV?
I haven't seen you in a while.
What's your reaction?
I would say that May 10
is a bad day for kings.
Louis XV and Giscard
both died on this day.
They should be wary.
FALL 1981
Hey, Coluche.
FOUR YEARS LATER,
COLUCHE CAME BACK
TO POLITICS BY STARTING
THE RESTOS DU COEUR SOUP KITCHEN.
EVER SINCE, THEIR SUCCESS
HAS SADLY NEVER BEEN DENIABLE.
I wander through the dark night
I'm a lout
My demeanor in the streets
Makes everyone uneasy
The sound my chains make
Frightens the rich
The reflection in my black glasses
Sends shivers down their spine
But here, beneath a pile of rocks
I have a beating heart
Out of which rises a prayer
Smile at me, my man
I've got a heart full of love
For my mother and my brothers
But if you touch my sister
I'll send you to the graveyard
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I walked in the dark night
Oh, shit!
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
Once again?
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
I wander through the dark night
I am a lout
Coluche!
Subtitling: Hiventy
A FILM BY FRANCIS MAGNIN
So, did you have a good night?
Yes. It was nothing special.
I had a drink, with a friend.
Ah, yes.
And did you meet any nice girls?
No.
But you were in a bar.
Yes.
And there weren't any nice girls?
No.
That's a shame.
This isn't the right way.
I have to pick up... Charlotte.
This is an Uber Pool.
I'm doing several rides.
Ah, that's right.
-Wait, did you say Charlotte?
-Yes.
-Does she live around here?
-Yes.
Oh my God.
No, no, no, no, no.
Do you have a picture of her
on your app?
Yes.
Oh shit!
-It's my ex.
-Ah, that's funny.
No, it's not.
Just reject the ride.
No, no.
She can't see me.
Can you turn back?
-Just turn back.
-No.
Anyway, we're already on her street.
Isn't that her, there?
Shit.
-Hello.
-Hello.
-You're Kamel, right?
-That's right.
I don't think he can talk.
He's lost his voice.
He told me, earlier.
Or, he tried to.
I couldn't really understand.
Oh, OK.
Don't put your foot there.
You'll get dirt everywhere.
I think the driver's got a thing
about cleanliness.
Ah, I see.
Who's getting out first?
Stephane. Me.
Stephane. That's me.
It's better, driving at night.
It's quieter.
Yes.
The day must be a nightmare,
with all the traffic.
Right.
You don't hear so much now
about the war
between cyclists and taxis.
I haven't seen much on the news.
Is that all over now?
I don't think with that...
I don't think he can answer.
Ah, yes.
And did you have a good night?
Yes - but it's only just beginning.
Are you going out?
No, I don't know why I said that.
I'm staying at my sister's.
What about you?
Did you have a good night?
Yes, I was in a bar, with a friend.
-Ah, cool.
-A few other friends stopped by.
We had a drink,
then we had another one.
There was a bit of music
and quite a few girls.
I danced a bit,
with one of them in particular,
although
I'm not usually much of a dancer.
I don't know.
Maybe it was the full moon.
Ah, this is where I live.
Here I am.
-Do you live here?
-Yes, the brown door.
That's funny. My ex lived here.
You must know him.
He's called Stephane, too.
Brown hair. Looks like a dick.
It doesn't ring a bell.
If I saw him, I'd tear his head off.
That bastard! That son of a bitch!
I'll tell him, if I see him.
Thanks for the ride.
How do we do this?
What do we say?
See you later?
I can't open the door.
No, it's down to the left.
The little baby. The child lock.
Yes, that's it.
I know this model.
That's how I knew.
-Have a nice evening.
-Bye.
Sorry, that was a bit vulgar.
But I really liked that guy.
Everything was going so well.
Tell me
if it bothers you to hear about this.
I don't know what happened.
He just cut me off, overnight.
Radio silence.
Niet.
No explanation.
I'm sorry.
Is this a joke?
What are you doing here?
-Are you an Uber driver now?
-No, it's complicated.
Look, I'm sorry.
I'm a shit.
I should've put you in the picture,
but I was scared...
I didn't know what to do.
So I didn't do anything.
-I really didn't mean to hurt you.
-It's OK.
I mentioned it
because we were outside your place
and it made me think of it.
But I don't usually think about it.
I never do.
I feel really bad.
I should've called you.
We should've talked, at least.
I don't know... I didn't think
it meant that much to you.
We were only together
for three months.
-And a half. Three and a half months.
-Yes, right.
But it'd be really nice
if you could manage
not to tear my head off,
because I still need it.
Even if it's just for my work.
It'd be hard, without a head.
People may not know Montrond
well enough.
Yes.
You fool.
Hello, this is Stephane's voicemail.
Over to you. And make it good.
Yes, it's Kamel, the Uber driver.
I'm calling about the car.
I'd like to know
when I can have it back.
I'm outside your place,
just where I got out of the car.
Can you be really careful
with the car, please.
I've got a thing
about keeping it clean.
I'd like you to take care of it.
I'm trusting you.
OK, I'm here, waiting.
Subtitling: Hiventy