Divertimento (1992) - full transcript

More than just an abbreviated form of "La Belle Noiseuse", Rivette re-cut his footage with some important differences in point of view - this one being more from Marianne's point of view.

One Monday in early July,
between 3 and 4 pm

- Did you sleep well?
- Very well. We'll come down.

Take your time.
I'll be in the courtyard.

- Is Marianne all right?
- Yes, great.

- Do you think I should change?
- No, don't bother.

Is it far? Are we taking the car?

It's just next-door. You can't miss it.

There's nothing else for miles around.

- Are you excited?
- I'm not, but Nicolas is.

No need to overstate it.

I wasn't. That was an understatement.



- How did you get here from Montpellier?
- We got a taxi.

There's no other way.

- Are you cross, Marianne?
- I'm just jealous.

The closer we get to your man, Frenhofer,
the less interest Nicolas is showing me.

Is he really such a genius?
I couldn't find a single book on him.

There was one published in 1974
but it's out of print.

When was his last exhibition?

Before you were born, my dear girl.

- I can't see how anyone could live here.
- Quite easily, I assure you.

- I'll buy an even bigger one after my next show.
- I could never live anywhere like this.

You'll soon change your mind.

- They won't hear us if they're round the back.
- They can hear us all right.

Perhaps they're... I don't know.

Why, it's Magali. Gosh, you've grown.



- Do you know where everyone is?
- No, Mr Porbus. I have to catch Justine.

I need to find her
before she eats the hydrangeas.

Justine!

Liz? Edouard?

Forgive me.
I was helping Françoise make a tart.

I'm the only one who knows how.
Did you walk up from the inn?

You must be parched.
What can I get you?

Anything, as long as it's cold.

I'll go and get rid of this.

Where is Frenhofer?

Marianne, look at this.

- Where the hell is he?
- Maybe he doesn't want to meet us after all.

Where is everyone? There you are.

This is the Chimera room.

It's my favourite
because it serves no purpose.

It's beautiful.

Very impressive.

Are there any ghosts here?

No, only Frenhofer and me.

That's all.

It's not really ghost country.

By the way,

tell us,

what have you done with Edouard?

I don't know.
He vanished straight after lunch.

It's strange.

Wouldn't you rather be outside?

- Can Magali stay on later?
- She's got her dance class.

Of course she has. What a pity.

- Have you seen Mr Frenhofer?
- No. Perhaps he's in the studio.

- I doubt it.
- He must have forgotten about us.

I wouldn't put it past him,
especially if he has something on his mind.

Luckily, most of the time his mind is blank.

- Have we come at a bad time?
- There's no such thing.

You caught her, then?

Incidentally, Balthazar,

I've been given some arsenic soap
to get rid of the creepy crawlies.

Do you think it's safe to touch it?

What were you using before?

DDT mixed with soap.

Well, carry on using that and...

About time.

Magali?

Give this to your mother.

Wait. Can you put this on my desk? Thanks.

- What day is it?
- Monday.

That's right, Monday.

I completely forgot about you.

Unbelievable. Young lady.

The name's Marianne.

- Forgive me.
- This is Nicolas. Remember?

Ah, Nicolas.

I completely forgot. Unbelievable.

- It's shameful, you mean.
- Unforgivable.

It's so hot.

Right.

Let's not sit here moping.

It's all right, I know why you're here.

Let's go, then.

Come on. At least it's cool in there.

Something strange is going on, Nicolas.
I swear it.

One of these days, I'm going to put
a viewpoint indicator and a telescope up here.

With a slot for 10 franc coins.

Giving you a quarter of a hour
to admire the view.

We couldn't care less about the view,
could we, Nicolas?

Let's walk on. I can see
you're trembling in anticipation.

It's just here.

Here we are.

It's like a church.

It's actually an old barn.

The stables were underneath.

Imagine the work you could do
in a studio like this, Nicolas.

I haven't set foot in here for months.

That's true.
You've become atrociously lazy.

Do you know why I had forgotten
you were coming?

Because... I was scared.

- Scared of you.
- Of us?

Yes, of you.
Don't take it the wrong way.

Liz and I had achieved
a state of perfect harmony here.

Happiness, even.
Now you're here, unhappiness will kick in.

Frenho, you're completely nuts.

I'm not blaming anyone. It can't be helped.

Sparks will fly between you, too.

Have you been drinking at Roussel's?

You come into our house,
bringing trouble and upset.

And you're miserable.

I admire your work but I never meant
to intrude. You invited me here.

Of course.

You want to see and understand.

You're more interested in my work
than in me.

- Am I right?
- Yes, that's right.

- Any new canvases?
- Nothing for you, you old rogue.

Come here.

The oldest ones are over here.

There are more upstairs.

Otherwise, it's a mess.

I never tidy up.

Do you want to come upstairs?
It's nicer up there.

That one is amazing.

It's not bad, but it's nothing.

There's no blood. When I've taken it
as far as I can, there's blood on the canvas.

- That's going a bit far, isn't it?
- Not at all.

You can really see the blood
on La Belle Noiseuse.

What is La Belle Noiseuse?

- You haven't mentioned it for five years.
- I'd forgotten.

I like this one, too.

- Can we see La Belle Noiseuse?
- It doesn't exist. It's just a project.

But I've given up on it.

It does exist.

- What?
- It's here, even.

- Why did you call it La Belle Noiseuse?
- Because.

It was the nom de guerre
of a 17th-century courtesan,

Catherine Lescault.

She led a wild life.

Reading about her life made me
suddenly want to do a painting.

Just like that.

It was three o'clock in the morning.
I hadn't slept.

Because of me.

You can laugh but it is all your fault.

My fault?

You are La Belle Noiseuse.

What exactly does "noiseuse" mean?

It comes from "noise",

as in "chercher noise", or troublemaking.

How did you know that?

I lived in Québec for four years as a child.
They called me a "noiseuse", or troublemaker.

That's right. It means quarrelsome one.

- Or pain in the arse.
- So the painting does exist?

I've already told you it doesn't.

I wouldn't stay with Nicolas
if he ever gave up.

- Do you love him?
- Frenho!

You're embarrassing them
with all your questions.

It shows I'm interested.

Let's drink and be merry.

Thanks.

Here's to life.

- It's good wine.
- Delicious.

No, thank you.

The Moriers are charming, too.

It's a pity the father pushed his wife
under a high-speed train.

Afterwards, he hanged himself,

in his house up there.

The Duchess of Uzès...
Is that how you pronounce it?

She gave him the house.

And all the children went to...

...agricultural college.

He had 12 of them.

So, do you love Nicolas?

He adores you.
It's plain as the nose on his face.

- Don't be angry. He's always like this.
- I'm not angry, I'm listening.

Can you accept the fact
that he puts painting first, before you?

Can you accept the fact
that you might lose him to a painting?

Anyway...

If Nicolas doesn't see what he's doing
through to the bitter end,

I'll lose him, anyway.

I'll be the one to leave him.

Why do we have to lose one another?

We seek truth in painting
and truth can be cruel.

You haven't lost me.

I almost lost you.

Wait. I know what to do.

I'm OK.

I'm all right.

What have I done with my glasses?

Sorry.

I know.

I left them in the studio.

- I'll get them for you.
- I'll come with you.

- Can I lean on you, Nicolas?
- Of course.

My legs are like cotton wool.

There they are.

Right. Let's go back and join the ladies.

Wait.

Haven't you got a little pick-me-up here?

Are you thinking of staying the night, then?

No, someone's expecting me.
I have to get back.

But I feel fine now.

I don't want to hang about in the studio.
It was hard enough coming here at all.

When I see a recent canvas,
the suffering I feel is...

It's unbearable.

And yet it's cool in here.

- And so silent.
- Silent?

Can't you hear the forest?

There's a constant murmur.

That's why I settled here.

It's like the sea.

It's like the sea.

It's also like the fossilised sound
of the universe.

It's the sound of our origins.

The forest and the sea combined.

That's what painting is all about.

Don't you agree?

No, I don't.
That's not what it's like for me.

For me, painting is about making lines.

It's about contrasting colours.

Cadmium yellow.

A brilliant red.

- Something distinct and complete.
- Really?

Whenever I felt I'd put
the finishing touches to a canvas,

I felt there was still more effort to be made,

that I had to try and take it a bit further,

take a risk with it.

By taking it further, did you ever end up
destroying a canvas, ruining it?

Of course, on more than one occasion.

But you have to take risks.

Only not everyone is cut out for taking risks,

for being inventive.

I'd like to ask you a question.

What did you do
before you met your husband?

I wanted to be an architect.

But I was no good at it.

Why not?

Because...

I thought...

It can't be easy living with a man like that.

It's completely unbearable.

But as I'm a pain in the arse, too,

we manage.

Anyhow, I couldn't live any other way.

Didn't you have any other plans?

No, my plan was to live with him.

It hasn't been as easy as all that.

But I fix things, too, you know.

I don't want to fix things.

Shall we have some tart?

No, thanks.

Something changed after his first show.

I need to stand up for myself.

He's the one that seems vulnerable to me.

Either way, sooner or later,
he and I will be at war with one another.

I know it.

I can feel it.

I understand.

I've been there.

He's won the war.

No one's won.

We're both battle-scarred.

But we've made our peace.

The treaty is strong.

Rock solid.

You should start painting again.

I've lost patience with it.
I'm not interested any more.

I need to paint a masterpiece.
Nothing else will do.

Why don't you try
painting La Belle Noiseuse again?

That's impossible.

It was meant to be Liz.

It's too late now.

We brushed with disaster once before.

That was enough.

Why not...
Why not Marianne?

Marianne?

It's true, it could be doable with Marianne.

It's more than doable.

She's the one.

So you want Marianne to model for you?

Why not?

It might be interesting to give it a try.

When do you have to leave?

We were meant to leave in two days' time

but nothing's fixed.

Well, take your time.

Think about it.

All right, then.
She can model for you.

I'd better get going.

I have a long way to go.

I want to see the painting
when you've finished it.

And I'll buy it, at market price.

We have a gentleman's agreement, then.

Why did he say, "See you tomorrow"?

Are we seeing him again tomorrow?

I think he'd really like you
to model for him.

What are you talking about?

He asked me
if you'd agree to model for him.

And you said yes.

Yes, I said yes.

Marianne.

Here's your herbal tea.

Thank you.

Have you got an appointment with Marianne?

It's hardly an appointment.

They're nice young people.

- They're good together, aren't they?
- Yes, they are.

- Is he very talented?
- Yes.

He is. And he's very passionate about it.

He almost gave me a taste for it again.

They both made me want to start again.

It's ages since I did anything.

I think I'll give it a go.

I'm sick of painting self-portraits.

Why not? It's a good idea.

I'm going to paint her.

Her.

I thought as much.

Explain what to me?

How to pose?

I bet he'll want me to pose nude.
I've seen his paintings.

- That's not what I meant.
- Isn't it? Don't act the innocent with me.

You've sold my arse, Nicolas.

Listen, Marianne. This is no ordinary portrait
he wants you for. It's much more than that.

Even if it's for the ultimate masterpiece,

you shouldn't have answered for me,
that's all.

It will be the ultimate masterpiece.

At least it could be.

It's for La Belle Noiseuse.

He gave up on it ten years ago
and he wants to try again with you.

I couldn't care less.

Your Frenhofer is ridiculous.

We seek the truth through painting
but the truth can be cruel.

There needs to be blood on the canvas.

- And you go along with it. You're pathetic.
- Stop it.

- Look at me.
- Piss off!

We'll talk about it again tomorrow.

- All right?
- Switch the light off.

- Good morning.
- I have an appointment with Mr Frenhofer.

Let's start with this.

It doesn't really matter.

We could start anywhere.

Can you sit on the stool?

Sit up straight.

Move your arms.

Look at me.

Straight at me.

Hello. Is Mrs Frenhofer in?

Yes, come with me.

I'm only wearing this
because I'm allergic to lion skin.

She's up here.

- Hello.
- You scared me. I thought it was the police.

These are protected species, you see.

I could go to jail.

And with Magali here,
they could do me for corrupting minors.

- Is Marianne with your husband?
- Of course.

Magali, I don't need you for this.

Go and help your mother.

Can you hold this wing for me?

Open it up more, please.

This one's going to be tricky.

Is it a while since Frenhofer...

Did he have a lot of models after you?

Frenho? No.

This is the first time in years.

You're so pale.

Green, almost.

Don't worry, Frenho is a gentleman.

You have nothing to fear from him.

It's not him I'm afraid of.
I should never have agreed.

- I don't know what to do.
- There's nothing to be done.

It's too late to wonder
if you're going to get hurt.

Give me the wing. Let go.

You'll damage it.

What's happening to you?

Come over here.

Thank you.

I've got a little bump
where you banged into me yesterday.

I can feel it.

How long will they be?

I don't know.

It could be all day, or it could be over...

...in five minutes. I don't know.

How long does it take you?

I work from photographs.

The first time you posed for him,

had you known him long?

No, I didn't know him at all.

I did it to pay for my studies.

He was so...

so seductive that I fell for him instantly.

Literally.
I knocked everything over as I fell.

The stool, the chair, the paints, everything.

He helped me up.

I met Marianne in the underground.

Three years ago.

She was just about to
throw herself under a train.

I talked to her
and we've been together ever since.

That's so romantic.

Yes, very.

Did he realise what he was saying yesterday

when he asked Marianne
if she'd be prepared to lose me to a painting?

Of course not.
There's no rhyme or reason to what he says.

Haven't you noticed?

- No reason.
- What?

No rhyme or reason.

Yes.

Without rhyme or reason.

Sorry.

You'll find a dressing gown upstairs.

Behind the curtain.

Can you take a step forward?

Throw the stool to one side.

Would you mind
placing your hands behind your back?

I never thought you'd come.

I'm sorry but I've got pins and needles.

I think we'd better stop.

I'm not getting anywhere.

None of this is worth keeping.

Is that it?

Yes.

Goodbye, then.

Maybe see you in Paris sometime.

Why Paris? I'll see you here tomorrow.

I thought...

Did you think I'd let you go
just because it didn't go too well?

That's just how it is.
I was as uncomfortable as you.

Even more so.

I was paralysed.

I'll see you here tomorrow at 10am.

Is that too early?

- Goodbye.
- Didn't it go well?

Very well.
It was a total nightmare and all for nothing.

What did Edouard say?

He thought it was normal, said it was fine.

Wait.

- Did he ask you to come back?
- Yes, but I didn't come here for that.

I'm not cut out for this.

Please, Marianne.

Please try. You don't realise
how important this is for him.

No, I don't.

Well, I do.

Come back tomorrow.

I don't understand why he needs me.

He's made a mistake and he won't admit it.

- This is a waste of time.
- I'm sure it isn't. I felt it straight away.

And you'll get something out of it, too.

You'll see.

I'll see you out. It's this way.

Have you been out?

I went for a walk.
Have you been back long?

No, only five minutes.

- Well?
- Well, what?

Was it good?

It was better than good.

What's that supposed to mean?

I've never experienced anything like it.

That guy is a magician.
He cuts straight to the quick.

What I experienced today was unique.

Are you winding me up,
saying that to annoy me?

If the truth annoys you,
that's your problem.

Has he finished?

You must be joking.
I'm going back tomorrow.

10 o'clock tomorrow morning.

Thank you.

No sugar, thank you.

Give that to me.

Take off your necklace.

I feel like a beginner with you
so I'm going to do what the art students do.

I'm going to start from the back
so I can see your structure.

I'm going to map it out.
Turn round.

There. That's it.

Put your hands on your hips.

- Shall I put my hair up?
- No need. Just move it away from your neck.

Stand up straight.

That's it.

Were you never taught how to walk
with a sewing machine on your head?

Pretend.

Stand up straight, as if you were
being stretched up to the ceiling.

It hurts.

It's better for you.

Do you want some?

I don't know how you do it.
I could eat ten of these.

I don't really like ham.

Do you know the sculptor, Rubeck?

He died a few years ago.

In an avalanche in Norway

with his only model.

I've never heard of him.

One or two things he did weren't bad.

In marble.

A resurrection, in particular.

He could have been very successful.

Such a shame.

People latch on to something.

Possession.

Everyone's looking to possess.

They don't realise it's impossible to possess.

You have to let go.

That's what's frightening.

Irène.

Rubeck and Irène.

Strange girl.

I think she was a bit mad.

I knew her before he did.

This will make you look a bit like her.

I painted her in this very pose.

It was one of my first paintings.

Their death was upsetting.

I've forgotten almost all the girls,
all the models, I had before Liz.

There were so many of them.

I picked them up in the street.

It was always torture.

Did it work? Did they agree to do it?

Nearly all of them.

You seem sad.

- Is it because of your fiancé?
- I don't have a fiancé.

What about Joseph Pégouille
who lives at Triadou?

I've stopped seeing him.
I've gone off him. Anyhow, he's left.

- Has he gone far?
- To Saint-Vincent.

That's at least three kilometres away!

What's wrong? Don't cry.

That stuff makes my eyes sting.

Come round the other side
and hold the perch.

You know, once...

I was terribly upset.

Really? What about?

It doesn't matter what it was about.

- It was because of my lover.
- Mr Frenhofer.

No, I was your age.

Do you know what I did?
I took some clay.

I modelled it into a figure.

I stuck a lock of my fiancé's hair onto it.

And I started sticking needles into the body.

After the first one, I felt better.

And by the 33rd, I had fully recovered.

- What about him?
- My fiancé?

That's the last I heard of him
but I'm convinced he died at the age of 33.

- Like Jesus Christ.
- Yes, but he was no Jesus Christ.

- Do you like it?
- Yes.

There was one...

What was her name?

Florence.

Flo.

I kept her for a long time.

There was just something about her.

She was provocatively indifferent.

It was almost insulting.

When she was nude, she appeared dressed,

and when she was dressed,
she seemed naked.

She was the opposite of Liz.

What about Liz?

Did you pick her up in the street?

No.

In a café near Odéon.

Her back was bare.

It was April.

It was bucketing down.

Her teeth were chattering.

I put my jacket round her shoulders.

She said...

What's wrong?

I want a cigarette.

Later.

Come on.

- What did she say?
- Who?

Liz.

What did she say to you
the first time you met?

That she did modelling for cash.

I love coincidences.
I don't know if it was one.

She'll never admit it. Straight.

Hold your fingers out straight.

In any case, I wanted her
before I wanted to paint her.

I was scared for the first time.

Fear became the driving force
behind what I was doing.

There was a change of tempo.
It was like a whirlwind.

I was blinded.

I became a tactile painter.

It was as if my hand could see

and was commanding itself.

That's what I'm looking for.

That's what I want.

Yes, that's it.

Perhaps that's when I really became a painter.

Why, then?

Why did I stop?

It would have been the death of me.

Or her.

Besides...

Shall we carry on?

Was I asleep for long?

Forever. A quarter of an hour at least.

I dreamt that...

a huge wild black cat
was clinging to my finger, biting it.

- Like that?
- Yes.

I'm sorry.

I didn't see you there.

I'm the one who should apologise.

It was Edouard who...

I never said you could turn your head.

Well?

Can you see anything?

Yes.

I think so.

But is this really what you want?

There.

Edouard?

Yes?

Edouard, I can't stay.

Françoise needs me. I have to go.

I'll be off, then.

Did you ask her to come?

Never you mind.

Why?

Why what?

Why did you abandon it?

- Abandon what?
- Your mad painting, with Liz.

What's it to you?

You're not Liz.

But that is the one.
That's the painting you're starting afresh.

You can never start afresh.

Don't make fun of me.

I have a right to know
what I'm doing here, naked, in front of you.

- I need you.
- Why me?

Why me?

It was meant to be Liz.

You're too curious.

You want to know everything instantly,

before anyone else,

before anything has happened.

But you can't know until afterwards.

And even then...

What do you need me for?

It's not me you want to paint.

You told me.

It is and it isn't.

It's you and it's more than you.

More than you've ever imagined yourself being.

If I get the painting right...

it will be you.

I don't understand.

Nor do I.

Just as well.

But I need to understand.

Understanding, knowledge.

No one ever really wants that.
However strong you may be.

I am strong.

I think.

We shall see.

Do you want to drive me away?

That's what you've been trying to do all along.

No, I want you to stand up for yourself.

We need to be strong, you and I.

To the end.

I'm starting to see you.

Starting to.

Julienne, if I say I can't come back,
that means I can't.

I need you to do this for me.

I don't want to call him,
I'd rather you went to the gallery.

He likes you. It will be better if you go.

Tell him what you like, make something up.

We'll take the photos the following week
and that will be it.

It's going as well as can be expected.

It's partly Marianne.

She's just living her life.

Listen...

All I ask is that you take care
of the catalogue. OK?

Big kiss.

You, too. Lots.

Do you want to stop?

I think it would be best.

Is something wrong?

Something could be made of all this.

But not by me.

Once or twice
I felt sure there'd be a breakthrough,

or a miracle.

But I was mistaken.

I've done all this a hundred times before.

I can still do it, more or less well.

But what's the point?

I'd rather die.

You're too quick to give up.

What?

You're too quick to give up.

What would you know?

You told me I should stand up for myself.

If you stop now, I'll think it's my fault,
that it's because of me.

It's not you, it's me.

I've worn you out with my talking.
That's all I'm good for.

There...

No.

It's not just you.

This is important to me, too.

Earlier you hurt me so much

that I could hardly breathe.

And nor could you.

Something happened.

We can take it further.

Indeed.

To the so-called point of no return.

I'm incapable of reaching that point any more.

I might as well give up.

You took me on board.

Say what you like,
but you forced me into coming with you.

You can't just leave me stranded now.

You're scared.

I'm not any more.

I'll be back tomorrow morning at ten.

Thank you.

Was she really in such a bad mood
when she left last night?

You seem pleased about that.

I thought you liked the idea
of her modelling for Frenhofer.

I thought you wanted to see this painting.

Well, I've changed my mind.

I just want to see Marianne herself

and to go home as soon as possible.

Don't be in too much of a rush.

Why do you say that?

Because I've seen it all before.

If Frenho has it in his head...

Excuse me.

- Have you come to get me?
- Yes.

Listen, that's enough now. We're leaving.

No, Nicolas, we're not leaving.

- But I thought...
- Well, you were wrong.

- We can't stay forever. I have to get back.
- Go ahead. I'm not coming back with you.

Bye, Liz. See you tomorrow.

- Goodbye.
- Bye.

Forgive me.

Enough.

Let's go to bed.

She seemed very determined this evening.

Yes, she's taken it to heart.

I'm wondering why.

Are you really? Is that so?

Nothing to do with you, then?

You've led her a merry dance.

A merry dance.

Let's not exaggerate.

- We've been working hard.
- I realise that.

- Don't run away.
- I'm not.

I'm just tired.

You haven't worked this hard for a long time.

- It must be important.
- What do you mean by that?

You know very well what I mean.

- Am I right?
- I don't know.

Do you know what I think?

I think you're toying with her.
You don't care what's at stake for her.

You're always so melodramatic.

Sometimes, Frenho,
you can be a despicable coward.

- Sometimes you can be a pain in the arse.
- And you can be...

- Morning.
- Hello.

Don't rush.

- I think Edouard's still asleep.
- I'll wait in the studio.

- Will you tell him I'm here?
- Of course.

- Marianne?
- Yes?

Be careful.

What of?

Frenhofer puts his work first.

That can play havoc with people.

Thank you. I'll try to stand up for myself.

If he asks to paint your face, say no.

No.

I'm sorry, but I won't.

- Would you like a coffee?
- No, thank you.

I had breakfast at the hotel.

I had two croissants.

I might just as well have told you I'd had a shit
for all the interest you took.

I find you very interesting.
There's no need to...

Look me in the face.

It's the one thing you haven't done.

Help me.

Careful.

- They way you normally work is up to you.
- Mind the paintings.

But at least let me be myself.

Let me find my own space,

my own impulses,

my own rhythm.

If it doesn't work, we'll stop.

You know, the first time I came in here,

it reminded me of the chapel
at my boarding school.

I hated boarding school,

and liked it at the same time.

Because everything was forbidden.

I was always getting ill.

Every morning I wanted to stay...

curled up like this.

I used to get raging fevers.

Just like this.

- Where are you?
- I'm here.

I'm listening to you, watching you.

Then they got sick of me.

They threw me out.

Why are you the only one
who makes me want to carry on?

It's not quite the same thing.

No.

But the fever has come back.
I had it all night.

All night long.

Like before I met Nicolas.

And nightmares.

Didn't Nicolas do anything for you?

Nicolas?

He hates me.
He's convinced I'm crazy about you.

He's an idiot.

An idiot and a bastard.

But especially an idiot.

No, especially a bastard.

I don't know.

Anyhow, it's his fault.

- Mine, too, to an extent.
- No.

He needed an excuse.

I don't know. That's not true.

I'm being unfair.

I think he's proud that he had something
to do with a work by Frenhofer.

Something like that.

He didn't realise

he could ruin everything.

Why would he do that?

Stop pretending.

Like a cat with a bird.

- What is it?
- Nothing. Carry on.

Carry on with what?

I'm telling you that my life is at a standstill.

It's all over between Nicolas and me.

And I don't even know how it happened.

He's the only man I've been able to live with.

I could spit in the faces of all the others.

Such violence.

That's it, mock me.

I don't know
what your relationship with Liz is like.

But Nicolas...

Nicolas...

- Don't.
- It's nothing to do with you.

Why have you moved?
That was the pose, the look...

I've almost finished. It's a rook.

Dear, delicious crow.

Is that the famous poison?

Don't worry, I don't use it.

I keep it because it's old. I like the look of it.

A mallard.

It looks just like a painting by Oudry.

I think there's one like that
in the Musée Fabre in Montpellier.

Head down.

Animals pose, too, you know.

Tell me something.

- Did you know about Frenho?
- What about him?

Did you know he was going to start
working on La Belle Noiseuse again?

With that girl.

Did he tell you?

What if he did?
It's the best thing that could happen.

- Isn't it?
- I don't know.

It caused him so much suffering
the first time round.

Sometimes you have to take a risk, Liz.

That's rich coming from you.

It's easy for you.

You turn up once it's all over
to pick up the pieces.

Except when it's me that goes under.

- That has been known to happen.
- Yes, at dinner the other night.

I wasn't talking about that.
You know what I meant.

What's done is done, Balto.

Don't call me that.
Balto doesn't exist any more.

Did he tell you about the painting?

Have you seen it?

- I saw something.
- Meaning?

I hate you.

Is that why you're here?

To find out how it's going?

I thought you were here as a friend.

- As a two-faced bastard, more like!
- Stop it.

I could have phoned but I'm here.

You know how much I wanted to see you.

Why don't you stay for dinner, then?

I don't want to see Edouard.

Not until he's finished it.

And I have to go to Grenoble this evening.

Do you think he's on the right track?

Get lost, you vulture,

or I'll stuff you.

If that's what you want.

Are you saying that because...

you think you'll be disappointed
when it's finished?

Me? No.

I've lost all notion of time.

I feel as if I'm underground
where there is no rain, no sun,

no cold, no heat, no wind.

There's just a faint light

far, far away,

flickering.

Don't forget,
I'm coming on Saturday, no matter what.

It would be great if Edouard
had something to show me.

You can tell him yourself.

Excuse me, are you Mr Frenhofer?

No, Balthazar Porbus.

He's not here, but that's Mrs Frenhofer.

- Hello.
- Hello.

Do you want to talk to my husband?

No, I'm looking for Nicolas Wartel.
I understand he's been here.

- Do you know where I might find him?
- I think he's at the village inn.

Thank you. Goodbye.

I'm his sister, Julienne. Goodbye.

Goodbye.

- Are you saying I moved?
- Yes.

You did. What? So it's my fault now.

Yes, you were the one who moved.

- I didn't.
- You did a bit.

You were there like that.

- And I was over here.
- No.

- Where, then. Here?
- A bit further...

Where? Here? I couldn't have been here.

Was I like this? Where was I?

- There.
- Here.

A bit further. That's it. No.

Listen, tell me where I was.

Just tell me where I was.

Stop it. I've forgotten where I was.

What?

Be serious now.

We have work to do. Come on.

Be serious.

- Where are you?
- I'm here. Where else would I be?

Keep still or I'll get cross.

Excuse me,
have there been any calls for me?

Nicolas.

Julienne?

You're amazing.

I decided to risk you being in a huff with me.

Then again, I didn't think
you'd be sorry to see me.

You were right.

It's all sorted with the gallery.

I couldn't care less about the gallery.

Tell me all about it, then.

Have a rest.

I feel sleepy.

Can I sleep here?

Not here you can't.

But you can sleep at the house.

There are guest rooms.

I'll phone, then.

- Was that Marianne?
- Yes.

She's sleeping there tonight.

There's no need.

It might get cold tonight.

That's pretty.

I think there are
some pretty things inside, too.

I'm sure this would suit you.

No, I don't like jewellery.

You've never worn one like this before.

Just try it on. Here.

- I'll do it up for you.
- I said no!

Stop hovering round me like that.
I'm not a doll.

Sorry. I don't know what came over me.

It was nothing.

It doesn't matter. They were fake anyway.

Good night, Marianne.

- Aren't you coming?
- Not quite yet.

- Where are you going?
- To the studio. Don't wait up for me.

I've made coffee.

I came to the studio. I saw it.

I know.

I'm sorry.

When you weren't here this morning...

There's no need to make excuses.

Are you annoyed?

It's work in progress and I don't like...

I know.

Can I ask you something?

Since when has a work in progress...

made you need to destroy
another work in progress?

It's not...

It might be an old one.

And it might have been abandoned.

But it had my face on it.

And I liked it.

But you had to erase me.

I didn't erase you, Liz.

How would you describe it, then?

You replaced me.

You replaced my face with a pair of buttocks.

Can you bring me some coffee?

Thank you.

I didn't have any choice.

I can't make any progress with my work
if I hold on to memories and regrets.

I had to do it.

And believe it or not, I found it painful.

I'm sure.
You must have had a terrible night.

It was most uncomfortable, in every sense.

Are you expecting me to have a jealous fit?

You're waiting for that to happen.

But it won't.

Only, ten years ago,

when you started the work you've just ruined,

do you remember...

how we didn't leave the studio for a week?

We slept on that mattress.

Days and nights rolled into one.

- Do you remember?
- Those are just the sort of memories

that I don't want to have at the moment.

At that time you were still full of ideas,
full of courage.

Do you know what I thought
when I saw you asleep in front of the painting?

- I don't want to know.
- I'm going to tell you anyway.

No, you're right.

I won't tell you.

It's strange.

It looks more and more like you.

Don't you realise?

You stopped ten years ago.

That's when you should have seen it through.

But you were too scared.

I would have done it.

I was ready to accept anything.

We'd found one another again.
It was even stronger than before.

Stronger than before Balthazar, you mean?

Never mind Porbus.

He suffered more than you did.
He's still suffering.

I'm talking about you and me.

What you've done has belittled us.

- Turned us off one another.
- You have no right to say that.

Why?

We had a good life together.

You used to say it was bliss.

But bliss at that price

is sad.

You're sad, Frenho.

Look at yourself.

Is that what you thought this morning?

No, that's not it.

You're sad because you're no longer young.

You've run out of energy.

When you started that painting ten years ago,

you were embarking on an adventure.

But this is not a new beginning.

It's the end.

You say that so coldly.

How do you want me to say it?

You've been lying to yourself for ten years.
It's easier to carry on.

- Carry on, if you like.
- Stop it, Liz.

- You have a cruel gaze.
- That's how I am.

Cruel.

And you've only just noticed.

Don't go soft.

Don't lose the tension you had just now.

Look at me.

Put your hand down.

Turn round. Turn your face round.

No, look at me.

Raise your hand.

Turn it round. That's it.

- That's completely different.
- No, it's more precise.

Are you looking for something?

Something you've seen?

Perhaps.

Frenho must be finishing off his painting.

It might be better if Marianne doesn't see it.

Once it's finished.

That's what he told me.

I don't understand.

It's hardly a matter of life or death.

Isn't it?

Apparently, when you drown,
you see your life flash past.

All those forgotten memories

in a fraction of a second.

Can it be possible to capture an entire life

on the canvas of a painting

with just a few brush strokes?

It seems incredible,

but that was what
Frenhofer was seeking to do.

Are you saying
there's something immodest about it?

Yes, immodest.

That's it.

But not the body.
It's not the body that is immodest.

It's not the nudity.

It's something else.

Have you finished?

Maybe.

Can I see it now?

Is it finished?

You tell me.

Marianne?

What the hell are you doing here?
Where's Nicolas?

- Out. He didn't feel well.
- Just as well.

- What will you do?
- Pack, get out of here.

Without talking to Nicolas?

You're not his wife.
I've put up with you long enough.

Mind your own business and leave us alone.
Nicolas will survive.

Watch what you say. Do you think
it's been easy for me to put up with you?

When the three of us
were cooped up together?

I was too scared to come home
in case you were at it.

I knew I had to find a way out.

And I did find a way out.

I got out.

You have no idea how much I suffered.

You can't just leave Nicolas like this.

I can't stay with him any more.
I don't love him enough.

- You're only thinking of yourself.
- That's not true.

If only you'd seen it.
I have to get out now before anyone finds out.

Why do you care about anyone else?

It's all in your mind.

It's not in my mind.

I saw it.

A cold, dried-up thing.

- It was me.
- I don't know what you're talking about.

But if you want to leave Nicolas,
you have to tell him.

I can't.

Go and get some rest, then.

Stay at least one more night.

That's it.

Tomorrow's another day.

I'm tired.

You can sleep in my room if you like.

I'll talk to Nicolas.

- You managed to sneak out, then?
- What if Mummy wakes up?

- She won't wake up.
- Unless she falls. She sleepwalks.

It's beautiful.

- Is it that lady?
- Yes.

Listen.

Hold the bottom of the painting for me.
I'm going to tell you a secret.

Do you know how to keep a secret?

Yes.

Hold it.

Hold tight.

Help me.

Is this the secret?

Hold it there.

It's like my letters from Joseph.

I've put them all away in a shoe box.

I've hidden it in the greenhouse

at the bottom of the vegetable garden,
behind the watering cans.

When it rains, I like sheltering in there

and reading them again.

It smells so good in there when it rains.

But this, you see,

whether it rains or not,

I don't want you to come and look at it, ever.

The secret, our secret,
is that you have never seen this painting.

It doesn't exist.

Do you understand?

Yes, Mr Frenhofer.

- Do I need to keep the secret for a long time?
- For ever.

Even after I've gone.

Pass me a small one.

Well, here we are.

This is the bit I don't like.

I find it hard to cope
with something being finished.

You might be expecting
something different, Marianne.

Me, too, in a sense.

A finished painting
is a bit like a new-born child.

It takes time to understand
what it is and what it will become.

Well, I've run out of time.

This is my first posthumous painting.

That makes it even more valuable.

What you've done is beautiful.

Are you talking about the painting?

I am talking about the painting.

The real painting.

But also about what you've done.

I was hoping to surprise you.

You'll never cease to surprise me, Frenho.

Never.

Are you OK?

I'm scared.

I've packed.

It's best if we leave early to avoid the crowds.

We could make a detour through Spain.

Barcelona?

Montserrat?

No.

Your brother is hugely talented, you know.

He told me he owed you a lot.

He doesn't know how much I believe in him
and how much I like him.

I've never really dared tell him.

He's so modest.

We didn't get a chance
to get to know one another the other day.

It would be a pleasure to take you
out to dinner one night, both of you.

I'd like to ask you a question.

You said you sought the truth
in your paintings.

Is that still the case?

Are you asking me that as friend or foe?

I don't think a painter has foes.

Except for his bad paintings.

- How am I meant to take that, Nicolas?
- However you like.

I still admire you
but I feel sorry for you, too.

I don't want to end up like you,
putting on an act.

Stay as you are. I like you.

I didn't believe you the other morning
when you tried to warn me.

It doesn't matter.

I didn't need to worry after all.

No, you were right.

I was oblivious but I'm not any more.

I just wanted to tell you that.

I'm lost for words.

Words are irrelevant when it comes to painting.

You're right.

Let's talk figures, then.

All Edouard Frenhofer's drawings and paintings
are the work of Bernard Dufour