Jane by Charlotte (2021) - full transcript

Charlotte Gainsbourg looks at her mother Jane Birkin in a way she never did, overcoming a sense of reserve. Using a camera lens, they expose themselves to each other, begin to step back, leaving space for a mother-daughter relationship.

Thank you very much.

Thank you!

Better think of nothing
Than to not think at all

Nothing is already
Nothing is already a lot

We remember nothing
And since we forget everything

Nothing's far better
Nothing's far better than everything

Better think of nothing
Than to think about you

It doesn't help me any
It doesn't help me at all

As if nothing was wrong
I think of all

Those little things
That I got from you

BY CHARLOTTE



Did you make one for everyone?

I have 50 to do.

I love it, it's so...

precious.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

The idea is to see you
as I never have before,

or have dared to see you.

Filming you with a camera

is basically an excuse
just to look at you.

That's a brief explanation of why...

I see.

...the process, okay?

Okay, but what about the songs?

I don't know the songs
well enough to finish them.



I know what I'd like to ask you first,

because I feel it strongly,
though perhaps you don't:

We're both very modest

when we're together.

I don't know where it comes from.

I know that we're...

It's partly due to our personalities,

but I don't think
you're this way with Lou

nor that you were this way with Kate.

Perhaps not.

But I think this is because...

you were intimidating

as a child...

- Not as a young child?
- Yes.

Very early on.

Very early on.

I felt privileged
to be in your presence.

It wasn't the same as...

It wasn't trivial.

And so...

This is off to a good start.

So it's true that...

I never wanted to do wrong
in regards to you.

I never scolded you the same way

I dared scold Kate,

as people do,

ordinarily,

when they're angry.

You were much more
mysterious to me, like...

uncharted territory.

Your answers always surprised me.

You were very...

You were so private, and so...

so secretive.

I didn't have any clues.

When you were about 14 years old,

I was dying to see you naked.

I did the same with Alice,
who thought it was awful.

I asked to touch your breasts.

I know.

I really wanted to,

but I also knew
you might take it the wrong way,

and say no,

or worse,
you'd feel obligated to say yes,

making you feel
extremely embarrassed.

But I just found you so beautiful
and I wanted to know how it felt

and how you'd developed.

Because you hid your body
at an early age.

You became secretive very early on.

I didn't know whom you were with,

you didn't tell me
if you had boyfriends,

I had no idea.

You replied: "Yes, go ahead."

So I touched you, and I felt...

almost perverted

for asking to touch you,

and that you had to say yes.

I knew it would be the last time

I could ever do that.

And...

I wanted to be tactile with you.

I tried with Alice, but she refused.

Are you very tactile with them?

When they were young, yes.

And in an extremely natural
and strong manner,

it came back with Ben,

but with Alice,
there is a lot of awkwardness.

I don't feel awkward,

but it's awkward
because I sense she's embarrassed.

And with Jo,
I make the most of it.

Of course.

It's fascinating.

They allow you to observe

because it isn't sexual yet

nor is it awkward yet.

Perhaps I wouldn't have liked

my mother asking to look at my body.

I didn't want her to see,

for I felt so anxious

about not developing.

I used to be taller than you,

and now you're taller.

I was wondering if...

being middle children,

you,

me,

and Alice,

we have things in common.

Do we have a bond,
as middle children?

I've wondered that, too.

It seems to me

we have a sort of... sisterhood.

We always mess up with the first,

for me, personally.

Your first reactions have
such an influence on them.

Not as young children,

but as teenagers.

And the second's personality
is so different from the first's.

Yes.

But...

I was quite happy
not to be in first or last position.

You go unnoticed in certain aspects.

You feel more agile, in a way.

Perhaps more agile, but also...

I think all three of us were very...

privileged by our fathers.

Yes, it's true.

But I sense a lot of jealousy.

I...

It's one of my personality traits

and I see it in Alice, too.

- Jealousy?
- Yes.

You're always making sure
things are fair.

Always counting, in a way.

Yes, I noticed that.

- I saw it...
- You weren't that way?

No, on the contrary,

my father would unfairly
display pictures of me everywhere.

And I sensed that for my sister,

it must have felt...

strange

to have a sister who was

always shining in her father's eyes.

I feel as though I took everything.

And...

And without deserving it.

That's why we have complications

in terms of the guilt we feel,

for we didn't truly

deserve these emotions.

Yes.

- I think you had the same...
- I know.

...place in Serge's heart.

Photographs were a nightmare for me,

at first, being photographed.

Did you enjoy it?

I loved it.

- Really?
- Yes.

Being photographed was so stimulating.

It was so exciting:

The music, the atmosphere, all of it.

I loved it, because I was so young

and therefore always looked pretty.

I didn't care about looking bad.

Yes.

And then, came the...

You start to see yourself.

I really aged these last few years.

In the last two years.

Quite a bit.

You try to tell yourself:
"I don't mind,

"for there are so many women I love

"whose faces
look like an elephant's knees."

I thought I'd get used to
having wrinkles all over,

around my mouth,

A doctor told me yesterday:
"Your lips will completely disappear

"unless you do something about it."

He removed his mask

and I saw
he'd done something about it.

If I don't do that,

I'll have flat lips, like dad's,

now that I think about it.

At what point do you stop caring?

I think I'm reaching that point
of not caring.

When Kate died
and I fell down the stairs,

I changed a lot physically.

Right before that,
I was doing Arabesque.

I was already older,
but 20 years after it began,

I was still wearing the same dresses.

After that,
I changed a lot physically.

I became a bit more stout and portly.

A lot.

We can no longer wear the same things

forcing us to become a bit blurry.

At one point,
you no longer recognize yourself

in the mirror.

Only when you touch your skin,
but not your reflection.

So... you remove the mirrors,

stop thinking about it, write,

do other things,

try to make people laugh.

Your voice doesn't change,

which is nice,
you can keep singing.

But as far as visual aspects go,

it's best to take off your glasses

so everything is blurry
and won't matter.

I see.

What music can we use?

We don't hear it anyways.

- And we don't have the rights.
- That's true.

What about your music?

Oh, how awful!
That would be terrible.

How about some Bach?
Bach? Yes?

He won't sue us?

Bach? No, I don't think so.
I don't think so.

Why did you cut your hair short?

Why do you like short hair so much,
on you and others?

It was perfect for the Bataclan,

because I wanted to remove
all my attributes

that were feminine and doll-like.

It was important to me.

As though you had cast off

all those previous pictures of you
we all know.

To move on.

It wasn't quite that dramatic, but...

I wanted people to listen to the lyrics

and how well I sang them,

instead of focusing on my appearance.

I see.

I remember, my mother said:
"It's fine, because you look boyish

"but watch out,
or you may soon look like a man."

And I thought:
"Oh no! Perhaps she's right."

Can you say something?

Okay, um...

How is your... how are you?

Hold on, let me make an adjustment.

My mom
is the best mommy in the world.

I'm hearing all the sounds
of the station.

Hold on,
I'm going use the original settings.

Can you hear all the conversations?

Well, it's a microphone,
and if I point it at you,

I hear your voice the loudest.

Where are we going?

Where are we going?

We're taking the train
to visit grandma.

What a funny tripod!

It's really great,
it can bend to any shape.

I see that!
It looks like Andrew's DNA things.

It's true!

Molecules.

Why are you...?

Grandma, I brought some plants.

- To plant?
- Yes, I brought them.

Can I see? Oh, they're seeds!

So?

Should I keep some for Paris?

No, no. Here is great.

Where and when should we plant them?

That's good for us.

Weren't you afraid
to have Kate so young?

Not at all.

That's all I wanted.

Every time I couldn't start having her,

I was full of despair.

Found it, grandma.

Did you find it?

- We found some trivial things.
- We found a shovel.

Where are the seeds?

- The what?
- The seeds?

After your marriage failed,

did you feel it was a problem
for your parents?

Or did you accept the separation?

I think my parents understood
and gave me a lot of support.

They knew John Barry
had already had two wives

two children,

that he was a known womanizer,

and that he had
a very seductive personality,

but also very selfish.

My father was the one
who told me he'd left for Rome,

and not alone.

- He's the one who told you?
- Yes.

So I packed my bags,

picked up poor little Kate,

called my parents from a phone booth,

and they told me
to come back right away.

They adored Kate

and I think
they were secretly relieved.

Go on, Jo.

- Try to dig a hole over here.
- Here?

No, no. Keep going!

- Here?
- Yeah.

Is it very hard?

It's horribly dry, isn't it?

That's a lot of water.

The ground was very, very dry.

Do you want some, grandma?

Yes, please.
Would you add an extra egg for me?

Sure.

I think we might need more eggs.

F-R-U-I-T.

- What? You can't say "fruit"?
- No!

- And "banana" or "peach"?
- No problem.

- Apricot?
- Perhaps.

- And in English?
- It's even worse.

- Are you thinking of the truck driver?
- I'm tired of hitchhiking.

I saw a ton of rabbits, Jo.

- Here?
- I saw three rabbits.

You have to come here
around 8 at night.

Maybe before we leave
for the restaurant.

- Why don't you remove these?
- I should.

Was this for the swing?

It was the swing you and Kate
played on in Normandy.

I remember.

You know I'm neurotic
about throwing things away.

But keeping this
is completely pointless.

There isn't even a swing
and it's ugly.

But this isn't a nice part
of the garden anyhow.

I should finish painting the shed.

- But it isn't in a nice spot.
- No.

- You agree? It's too...
- It's too shaded.

It's too chilly a spot for the swings.

You don't care about order?

I think order is very peaceful.
I admire it in others.

Yes.

But because I'm incapable
of throwing anything away...

Were you this way in Normandy?
I don't recall.

As early as Paris, and even London.

- Really?
- Yes.

You're going to have a ball
throwing all this stuff away.

But watch out,
because in certain boxes,

you'll find letters
from certain people...

I'll have to sort through them
for you.

And why can't you throw things away?

It's really hard for me.
I think it's a mild illness.

It's crap from a whole lifetime.
I don't know how people do it.

It isn't just memorabilia.

If you open a drawer,
you'll find a distressing accumulation

of dead batteries,

old markers,

children's illustrations,
I forget whose...

But you remember
the story behind each object.

Yes, even the crap.

At the entrance,
there's a little barbecue grill,

which was a chimney
that Serge had bought for me

that had a small funnel.

I remember,
a chimney with a roof on top.

Well, the chimney fell over,
so did the roof,

and you'll find the remains over there,

with three wheels instead of four
because it was made of cheap plastic.

It stays at the entrance
because I can't throw it away.

When we left for New York with nothing,

it was so nice.

So nice not to have
accumulated more things.

I like when others sort my things
and throw out the old wires,

used coal packaging...

But I wouldn't be able to do it myself.

Remember when Dolly
used to swim here and there?

It was so cute.

When the day comes, you can do
whatever you want with this house.

- It is a kind house.
- Yes.

Even living here alone,
without Dolly...

Well, nothing is fun alone.
Sleeping alone is hard.

- That's not true.
- Even in the south of France.

Even in nicer places.

I have a hard time.

It's really hard and so boring.

Going on vacation alone is so boring.

Have you ever tried
making a documentary?

I've had some about me.

- But have you ever made one?
- No.

Because it's...

I have a very specific approach,

however...

I'm starting to understand
what people are always saying,

that you build as you go along.

You don't write a screenplay
beforehand.

If it's alright with you,

I'd like to film
as many short sequences as I can

before September.

Isn't it a bit gloomy here?

No, it's very pretty.

No, it's lovely.

It isn't at all gloomy.

The lighting is beautiful.

It's hard to know.
I look fine in this mirror.

That's the flattering mirror.

I once cut my hair in front of it
because it made me look pretty.

Really?

The kitchen scissors were right here,

so I just kept cutting:
"Just a bit more!

"Goodness, what a pretty face!"

The mirror in the veranda
is also flattering.

I know the one.

Then I saw myself in my room:
"I'm a monster! Too late, too late."

Do you remember the first time
you came to New York?

I think it was with Serge...
No, with John Barry!

I don't remember
what he was working on.

And it was Los Angeles.

But I don't have
particularly happy memories of it,

nor lasting ones.

Just memories
of being with someone who was...

a bit glorious.

And I trailed behind him.

I've only seen New York with you.

When will he shoot the movie?

Now.

And you're going to be in it?

Yes.

Do you have a nice part?

Yes.

Good.

Will Jo be in it as well?

She'll be in one scene.

Good. He has to capture her
as she is now.

Yes.

Because it'll never be the same.

Varda was right.

- Yes.
- You must capture the present.

That was great.

The last line should be...

Slower, yes.

Should it be spoken?

- It should be what?
- Spoken.

No, it should be sung,
almost like a hymn, you see?

I understand.

It's perfect.

- Okay.
- Very beautiful.

We can do it again if you'd like,
but for me, it's perfect.

I don't like it.

Wasn't there a Bull Terrier?

- No.
- Yes.

I like them better.

I think they're funny!

- Really?
- Of course!

Especially the brindle dogs.

- Like this.
- They're so goofy.

You have to help me choose.

I especially like
the one you showed me.

The short-legged
white and brindle one.

He looked so goofy, so charming.

I don't know how to do this.

- In regards to Yvan?
- Yes, I don't know how to...

do my own thing

without taking him
into consideration at all.

Maybe he'll love it
when he sees it.

I think so.
I think it'll be like with Milo.

He couldn't stand Milo, the fur, etc.,
but in the end, he loved him.

So give him the options,

so he'll feel like it's his decision.

Yes, that's what I'll do.

Do you recall
your first time on stage?

I remember the Bataclan
as though it were yesterday.

Is it an old memory to you?

Yes.

It all seems so far in the past.

I got you.

Why had you never sung on stage
before that?

Why did you start so late?

It was bewildering.

Until then, I had always pretended.

Everything was lip-synched
on TV shows,

and more-or-less well done.

My lips weren't really moving.

I didn't learn very much.
I didn't take anything seriously.

But at the Bataclan,

when Philippe Lerichomme said
I would have to turn around

with a band behind me
to sing in front of people...

What nudity! What panic!

And my voice sounded nothing like

the voice I'd heard in the studio.

But Philippe said: "It'll sound different
with an audience."

I said: "Oh...!"

I practically said:
"How could you have let me do this?"

That's very nice.

Red for you and gray for you.

Thank you for the compliment.

Is it plugged in?

Is this mine?

Would you come over here?

Yes, we're coming.

- Where is the prompter?
- We'll play it as she enters.

Why isn't there a teleprompter?

It isn't working.

Hold on...

Where is Jane's microphone?

Jane, step to the side.

Charlotte, stay there.

I don't know how athletes do it.

How do people do premiers

and scary things like this
for the first time?

Don't move, Jane.

When I played Elektra,
my eyes were completely dry.

I couldn't even cry,
because I was so...

preoccupied with
what the critics thought of me.

- Right!
- So it was horrible.

It wasn't touching or moving.

I was just stricken with fear.

It catches up to you
during certain shows.

And it won't go away.

But you don't seem to have
stage fright anymore.

Since the teleprompter was invented.

It's true, what a revelation!

They're wonderful.

Yes, they're really amazing.

That was perfect.

Okay, we're done!

Did it go well?

Yes.

Look, I only have one song.

- Grandma has 21.
- I sang all night!

And...

I can't remember any of this.

What will I do?

The instruments!

They're big!

Very good.

New York isn't terrifying this time.

But last time...

At one point,

I ate everything at the minibar.
All the peanuts, etc.

I was sick all night
and didn't sleep a wink.

So I was in a very sorry state.

It was really...

It was...

The result was awful.

Maybe people couldn't tell
from far away.

I begged to have a smaller theater
for two nights

to avoid the stress of Carnegie Hall.

Anyone can get Carnegie Hall,
you just need to fill it.

You rent it.

But it was really beautiful anyway.

All that stress for nothing.

Knock 'em dead. Go for it!

This train is travelling to Brest

and will be stopping in Saint-Brieuc
and Brest, its last stop.

Have a pleasant trip.

Do you ask them if they're dominant?

I think we can ask them.

They must know, they see it.

They roll them onto their backs

and if they stay on their backs,
it means they aren't alpha dogs.

If they refuse to stay on their backs,
like Dora,

they're alpha dogs.

What about Dolly?

I think I could roll Dolly
onto her back.

I see.

It comes down to how you train them.

Yes.

People forget that.
That cutie you just saw,

will look something like this,
if we're lucky.

Can you bring them anywhere,
to the restaurant?

Not all restaurants.

And Dolly knew it.
She'd see me make a fuss.

Remember in front of the restaurant,
with Yvette and everyone?

I was yelling at the taxi driver,
and she stuck to my heels.

Jo was petting her,

because she understood
it was because of her.

I'm certain she knew.

They don't like it when you yell.

- No, just like children.
- Exactly.

It's another child, in a way.

They're with you all the time,
more than children.

It's the first thing you do
in the morning

and the last thing at night.

And they live for you.

They're a gift from Heaven, truly.

Look at him!
And you said Dolly was fat.

Yes, this male has many traits:
many wrinkles, many...

- I love him.
- Yes, everyone does.

And his babies are beautiful.

They're so tiny!

When was she born?

On August 17.

So they'll be four weeks old
on Tuesday.

Yes, because I had one...

But it's strange,
the resemblance is so...

Where did I put my...?

- Yes, we knew you would like her.
- She has a pretty face.

She'll definitely be
bigger than her mother.

You can tell just by her head.
We can see it.

Anyways...

Hello, baby.

Hi, baby.

- Would you like to hold her?
- Yes.

- Do you think she's cute?
- Very.

The parents have undergone
cardio tests.

We don't want to breed dogs
that have... defects.

We want healthy dogs.

Dolly had
an introverted-eyelash problem.

Yes, "ectopic cilia".

They also had to do an operation
for her breathing.

She had trouble breathing.

I think she was too fat.
We went through Covid together,

and we both gained a lot of weight.

Do yours fart a lot?

- Of course!
- Mine were farting all the time.

Especially when we're watching TV
at night.

We'll feed them bread
if we have guests we don't like.

I overfed Dolly,

so I try to be careful now.
Because they love to eat.

Between their regular meals
and leftovers from dinner...

- Oh, yes.
- That isn't good.

I know.

I'm very optimistic.

I generally tend to think
everything will turn out okay.

I don't take things seriously enough,

nor the danger of things.

I love that about you:
your trust in life, in people...

I can't imagine how things
might turn out differently.

No, you simply aren't distrustful.
I think it's great.

Yes, and to get excited about things.

We didn't watch the news.

We can. What time is it?

- It's...
- Darn, we didn't watch the news.

...6:20 p.m.

Oh! C dans l'air!

Oh, good!

I often didn't feel very responsible.

I behaved more
like a childish mother or a friend.

Perhaps I wasn't responsible enough.

Did the others see this?

No. They didn't ask.

Did Lulu ask?

Lulu asked.
He even did a music video...

not that long ago.

I'd never have come here
if you hadn't asked.

I never thought...

I'd never have dared ask to come.

- Really?
- Yes! Never, in 30 years.

I just assumed it was something
you wouldn't want to do.

No, I didn't feel
I was allowed to do it without you.

That it belonged to you.

Which was only natural, so... no.

I never even took a peek,
even out of curiosity.

But then you no longer feel
you have the right.

No right to do it.

Does it smell the same?

It smells the same.

No, nothing's changed.

But you made it sound...

a lot dustier.

It isn't dusty at all.

It's almost like being in a dream.

It's very strange.

His upright piano was here.
Is it important that it's gone?

Well, what matters are your memories.

But when I was here,
there wasn't this one nor that one.

Only the Steinway.

I don't know
if I was still living here,

because after I came back

and the first album
was Baby Alone in Babylone,

he would play the piano

and set his cigarette on the ashtray
to the left of the piano.

The smoke would come
directly into my eyes.

I'd cough or wave my hand
and he'd say: "Now it bothers you?"

Dear Mr. Cabbage-Head!

I was convinced he was underneath.

That if a thumb fell, we'd find bone.

It wasn't inconceivable
to find him in there.

I love this.

I love it so much.

She isn't as smooth.
She's rougher now.

- Because there's a layer of...
- Dust?

No!

It's a bit grainy.

I knew it when it was made of...
not plaster,

but a material
that was starting to be...

He called me once at La Tour Street
saying: "You've developed blisters!"

I said: "Sorry?"

It was my statue
that had developed blisters.

He had it smoothed-down.

So now it's...

purer than anything.

The kitchen!

It's so small.

Here is his medicine cabinet.

That's new to me.

All the cans exploded,
one after the other.

They... exploded.
I didn't know that could happen.

You mean, cans of sardines?

Canned food explodes.

In the fridge, I kept...

all that was left.

It must be rotting.

They're like prehistoric objects.

Just like Pompei.

Crystallized.

- Will you put up a rope here?
- Yes.

A rope or glass?

- I'm thinking plexi-glass.
- Yes.

I remember,
Kate used to scratch underneath.

I wonder if
we can still see her scratches.

She scratched at it?

- Out of rage!
- Why?

Rub your hand over it,
you can feel them.

- When she was furious with Serge.
- Oh?

When she was very young
and he scolded her.

If he said
"chew with your mouth closed"...

- That's wild!
- Yes.

My little room.

I remember you had papers all over,

and candies...

Yes.

This hasn't changed.

This was really beautiful.

The chandelier was so low.

When I was nine,
I reached up to here.

I could barely touch it.

Has it changed?

No.

Yes. And without the grates...

- Where are the small chairs?
- I don't know.

Everything has disappeared.

Why has it disappeared?

I don't know.

There weren't any spikes
or security measures,

so we were really...

When the bell rang,
Serge would open the door.

Looking back,
it's hard to imagine being so famous

and to have so few gates.

It's true.

All my old perfumes.

I wonder if they still smell.

- I had this one specially made.
- It still smells.

Yes.

I don't know where this came from.

- The tapestry?
- Yes.

I remember it well,
because of the torture scenes.

And the people being tortured
are all smiling.

I hadn't noticed.

Oh yes, I see the slashed bellies.

It's strange
to have spent 12 years here.

Yes, it's a long time.

Very, very happy years.

Very happy.

It's like a dollhouse.

It's so tiny.

I wanted to keep everything, and yet,

I've forgotten everything.

I have total amnesia of...

- Of where everything went?
- Yes.

And little by little,

it comes back in waves.

It's worth opening.

Definitely!

It's a treasure.

It's a treasure.

But it's strange,
it seems like a whole other life.

Yes.

A whole other life.

But it hasn't lost any of its charm,
beauty, or originality.

It's like Sleeping Beauty's castle.

Truly.

Yes, I've always felt
he might come back.

It has a voyeur side to it.

I like the voyeur aspect,
on the contrary.

He would have liked it.

Another part of me wants
to let go of it all.

And to think
it'll keep going without me.

Perhaps it would be less painful.

Yes.

It would mean...

the end of something.

There we go.

Good job, sweetie.

You did a great job.

I won't offer you any
because it's special tea.

No, I don't want any of your tea.

"Special", special.

- Are you okay?
- Wait.

- This one?
- No.

Crap!

It's very small.

That's not it, it's full of chicken!

- Oh, shoot!
- I totally forgot.

I can't wait for Alice
to come back one day.

She will.

Sure, sure. You'll have to wait a bit.

I think I'll have to wait a long time.

Maybe not so long...

It's hard to know,
because we have an annoying habit

of thinking
that others think the same.

I'm always thinking of
what I would have said.

But actually, we aren't at all...

We aren't one and the same.

I'm sure that
what is going through Alice's mind

is probably: "Yes! I'm free!"

Yeah.

I have no idea
what she's going through right now.

She's living her freedom.

- On the bottom or top rack?
- Top, I think.

Watch your fingers.

I'm so lucky
the girls keep coming back.

Yes.

Despite having their own relationships,
their children.

And no matter their age,
they keep coming back.

And that is such a pleasure.

Which is our favorite?

Jo?

I really like Daisy.

Daisy and Sugar are your favorites?

And Poppy.

Okay. I'll list them by favorite.

Which are your favorites, mom?

Mine are exactly the same.

Grandma?

I really like Poppy.

So we'll name it Poppy.

But I don't think Dad likes "Poppy".

Shall we let him decide?

If you want.

What will we do with my dog?

- I'll teach it to pee on the balcony.
- You have to carry them for a month.

- You can't leave them.
- You can't take them anywhere.

I thought he wouldn't leave my side.

He won't,
because you'll be carrying him.

Me too.

You have to...

Quite the storm.

Poor Charlotte. Are you cold?

I can't get enough distance.

Because I'm chubbier.

No!

It's so pretty!

With the sun right behind you.

If yours was born on August 9

and mine was born on August 17,

that's a difference of... 10 days.

- I thought it was more.
- I did too.

Is it okay to drink wine at...

What time is it?

- Oh, it's already 6:45 p.m.
- Well, then!

It's fine!

I'm not crazy about wine.

In general?

Not anymore.

- I used to be quite a big...
- Drinker?

I was going to say worse.

After I was sick, it changed things.

Yes. The taste.

It isn't worth getting sick.

With all the pills and everything,
it isn't worth it.

Are you allowed to drink?

Did they tell you?

I don't know. They never said.

But they had
strange recommendations, like...

no eating things like Seville oranges.

And I'm not allowed
to eat grapefruits.

And so you suddenly crave grapefruit.

But oh well, goodbye grapefruits!

Because it cancels out the effects?

I think your doctor friend
says it doubles the effect.

Yes.

And the dosages are very specific.

- And it doesn't tire you?
- No.

- You don't feel it?
- No.

I see it as a real lesson,

a life lesson.

- Yes. Well, yes...
- One I want to experience.

We don't have
much of a choice, you know.

- But we do!
- I haven't had any painful illnesses.

I'm very lucky.

Some people have very painful cancers,
but mine isn't.

I fainted
and had to get to the hospital fast

to be given some..

Transfusions, but it wasn't painful.

You had horrible back pain.

I had that mysterious illness
after Kate.

Yes.

- I would be yelling out in pain.
- Like razors.

They never figured out what it was.
I don't know.

But I'm also certain
we're capable of anything.

So...

Yes, of creating things.

Probably.

I'm so hungry.

Yes, let's go.

- Yes.
- Let's go, if you're freezing.

Can I film you a bit?

No.

I can't?

Oh no!

- There we go!
- Is it working?

Yes. I'm at one hour 21 minutes.

You want to put them out?

Can I try?

Darn.

- I love the noise it makes!
- Burned!

You look like you're at an altar.

Yes. But be careful of the feathers.

You might catch on fire.
Be careful!

We're so careful now.
We didn't used to be so cautious.

Now we're overly cautious
about everything: health...

We're much more prudent.

You can do as you like,
but I think I'm at the end of my...

I don't have the energy.

To move?

No, I don't think so.

I was very worried when you...

Really?

Yes, when you wanted to leave here.

I was very happy it didn't work out.

But I think
you like things to stay put.

Yes, it's reassuring.

Of course.

I need to put
everything in your names...

seven years before dying.

So it's time. It's true.

It's like what happened to my father.

His great-aunt died

six and a half years
before she was supposed to.

After that, her children would've had
very little debts to pay.

She died in the summer.

But she was supposed
to die at Christmas.

But they said:
"It's fine, we have a deep freezer."

I remember this story.

So they put her in the freezer

and the family doctor
was in on it.

So when they took her back out
at Christmas,

it would've been fine,
but the doctor died.

So they were asked
to do an autopsy.

And they said:

"We found strawberries in her belly!

"You've all been caught!"

And they said:
"But we have a freezer!"

Isn't that a terrible story?

As Mr. Touffet would say...

Yes.

That's so British.

He said that?

Yes, whenever I'd say
I loved my father so much,

I wanted to stuff him
and sit him on a chair in the kitchen.

He'd say: "That's so British."

Do you have to cook this
in white wine?

Or without anything?

No need to add anything.

Will you have some?

- Yes.
- Okay.

- How much would you like?
- Let's see, we'll be...

- How many of us, Charlotte?
- About eight. Eight or 10.

For eight people?

- One kilo.
- Okay.

- How is that?
- That's perfect.

The light's fading.

All of a sudden...

We need to hurry, it's starting to...

Because it's behind a sheet.

I don't understand how it works.

Maybe I was this way,
because I don't think there are any...

When did you take
your first sleeping pills?

When I was married to John Barry.

And I think dad was already
giving me some when I was 16.

And I was 17 when I met John Barry.

At 18, he was giving me two
so I'd stop yammering all night.

But at 16, he'd give you...?

Those were from my father.

Because you couldn't sleep?

Yes.

I've had insomnia
since I was very little.

I know I was very young

and that the family doctor
said to give me whisky.

Yes, and sleeping pills.

So young. And at boarding school?

I wasn't given anything,
unfortunately.

Nothing at all.
So every night in the dorms:

"Is anyone else awake?"

And when no one responded,
when all I heard were snores,

I'd stop asking
if anyone else was awake.

So you have vivid memories
of not being able to sleep.

Yes, terrible.
And I kept a stock of junior aspirin

that I'd buy
at a British discount store

just in case...

Did it have an effect?

If I took three, or four,
or five, or six... yes.

And...

And then I think
dad gave me one of his pills

and it was great.

And after that...

- You never stopped.
- No.

Did you ever try?

I quit when I was pregnant with...

Not with you.

I think I was taking sleeping pills,
but I'm not 100% sure.

I'm not 100% sure for you.

I know I quit for Lou.

And you were able to sleep?

Well...
I didn't mind not being able to sleep.

I understand.

Can you sleep?
No, not before a premier in Paris.

I'm afraid. I'm very afraid.

But can you sleep?

Yes, I end up falling asleep.

But last night I woke up at four
from anxiety.

- About this?
- Yes.

I can't let go of that fear.

Do you remember...

going to sleep
with the different men you lived with?

Because now
you're used to living alone.

Yes.

And you have your routine.

But did you have a routine
with each different man?

I suppose so,
but I think I drove John Barry crazy,

because I couldn't sleep,

because I wanted him
to say nice things,

because I wanted him to reassure me.

Which is why
I wanted to ask for forgiveness.

I read it in my diary,
from that time with John.

And then, with Serge,
we were so drunk that...

- Every night?
- We took so many sleeping pills!

We drank like fish.

It was really crazy.

I like this one!

It's very befitting.

Just a little click.

A little click, yes.

It's very soft.

And with Jacques,
you quit drinking alcohol?

I quit drinking alcohol and...

But I didn't quit the sleeping pills.

I recall Jacques being very upset,

because he was terrified of the dark.

So he'd crack the door open
to get a sliver of light.

And it would make me totally crazy.

Plus, I get in a bad mood at night.

My bed had curtains all around.

Oh, that's right!

I understood later on,

after he told me:
"I hated sleeping in the dark,

"and I hated sleeping
with such a heavy blanket."

Because I'd sleep
with suitcases on top of me...

Why?

- I felt safer.
- Because of the weight?

Yes.

I was never able to sleep in the nude.

I needed to be covered up to my neck,

otherwise
I'm afraid of getting stabbed at night.

I did that too, when I was a girl,
for the vampires.

Serge thought it was funny,

I was naked all day, but at night...

All bundled up.

Only when Jacques and I separated

did he declare
how much he had hated it.

To him, it was like being in

a "box of death". What are they called?

- Yes, a... coffin.
- Yes, that's right.

I understand.

Oh, how I understand!

Do you like to stay in bed
when you wake up?

Worse than that.
If I have nothing to do,

I'll get up, pee, and think:

"I need to wake up,
the alarm went off.

"But is anyone coming today? No one."
So I'll go back to bed.

I have to tear myself away
from my bed.

Sometimes I'll stay in bed,

if there's nothing to do
and no one to see,

until 3 p.m.

Really?

Yes, it's so tempting.

- So tempting.
- Without doing anything?

I don't do anything.

- It started since Kate.
- After Kate.

Before Kate,
I don't think it ever happened to me.

But after Kate, yes.

I'll stare at the ceiling
and the wallpaper in my bedroom.

I stared up at that cloth for two years.

Without...

Without doing anything else.

But it isn't... demoralizing.

I think it happens to many people
as they get older.

Why do you think you and dad
didn't have any other kids?

We didn't have another child together,

though I'd hoped for it,
despite everything,

because I didn't want
to be unfair to Kate.

I'd had Kate with John Barry,
and then you.

And I didn't want the balance to be...
unfair to her.

Because we'd have formed a new family.

- You're right.
- And she would have been...

off to the side.

These are stupid thoughts,

No, it's true!

And it's interesting
to have one child per father.

- It's...
- Yes.

It makes sense, in a way.

In the end, yes.

Do you still think of that period?

I've thought back on it so often.

The guilt lasted for years and years.

The doubts, the questions...

When you asked about sleep yesterday,

If I have a hard time sleeping,
it's because I'm rewinding in my mind:

"What if I'd done this differently?
Should I have done it this way?"

About everything!
It happened just yesterday.

All the time. All the time.

I envy those who are "deep sleepers",
as they say.

I think I'm always tormented by...

- Decisions?
- By guilt.

I often wonder if it was all my fault,

if I should have done differently,

in regards to everything.

But do you feel less guilt now?

No, these questions
run through my mind.

Just last night, I thought:

"I didn't take sleeping pills
while pregnant with Charlotte.

"Why did I say
I took some all the time

"while pregnant with you?"

Looking at images of you
on the swing and all that,

we weren't taking anything.

Right.

We make up
so many stories in our heads,

sometimes I wonder
if I'm telling the truth, you know?

I've repeated these stories
so many times, they've become...

- the real story.
- Reality, yes.

We start to fear the real stories.

And even human history,

because we convince ourselves
it was one way

but perhaps it happened differently.

Of course, after tragedies,

like Kate,

you rewrite history:
"If only I'd called her,

"if only I'd dragged her along
on my tour,

"if only..."

You know?
You invent different versions,

even if it won't change anything,
that's how it is.

And you can go back in time for years
doing this,

wondering if things
would've happened differently

if only you had done something better.

Yes.

Of course.

I know I made mistakes,
with both of you, you and Lou.

I didn't think of you enough.

In what sense?

Of your distress.

I was so wrapped up in mine.

That's normal.

I judged myself harshly
for a long time because of it.

But it's only normal, mom.

When I think back to...

to the aftermath...

you disappeared,

and it was normal that you did.

I don't think everyone makes
that same mistake.

And it's true that the place...

of a dead child

You speak a lot more of the dead
than of the living.

You purposefully try to include them
in conversations,

rather than pretend
you had two daughters.

No, you had three.

And perhaps
we talk about them even more.

And certainly
with a sense of glorification

in regards to the deceased.

You raise them up a notch.

As optimistic as I am,

you suddenly realize
that anything could happen.

Even before it happened,
I often had sleepless nights,

worrying and wondering...

I mean, realizing
I'd put three beings into the world

who would die one day.

But how would it happen?

Would Kate die of cancer?

Would you die in a car accident?

Would Lou...?

All these different possibilities

and the fact that I won't be there
to comfort you.

I'll be gone.

I put you in orbit...

only to abandon you.

So it's a matter of...

not being able to be there for you.
And yet...

the real nightmare is being here.

I haven't seen this or any other video
since Kate died.

I have a lot of Super 8 films.

I don't have the courage,
for all my memories of vacations

are obviously with her.

All those winters, Christmases...

So I don't dare watch them.

Maybe it would be good for me.

I'm not so sure.

- It's like a whole other life.
- Exactly.

In fact.

- Yes.
- Because it's...

- I'd rather not watch this.
- No, don't look.

We can stop.

This documentary
will have made me so sentimental.

I think of Jo
and of her "I love you's".

The more I look at you,

the more I love you.

I have always loved you.

But it is so much clearer to me now.

Why do we learn to live
without our mothers?

It seems to be a purpose in life:

To free ourselves at any cost.

I don't want to free myself.

I want to cling on.

I don't trust myself.

Why?

I wish I were like you,

for having faith in life
seems to be your philosophy.

To live without mistrust.

To believe in humanity, in people.

To be curious about everything,
close to everything,

to everyone,

without any filters.

In my current state,

I need you to teach me to live,

so I can learn again,

as if I hadn't understood before.

As though
it had all been a rehearsal.

I'm scared of your illness,

of your age,

of time that never stops

and passes by too fast.

My words may be tactless,

but should I pretend
nothing will happen?

That you will be
by my side forevermore?

That a life without you cannot exist?

We like to think
others are not afraid.

That they are in peace, serene.

We'd like to talk about it,
yet not at all.

Only to feel reassured.

I seek out
any reassuring detail I can find

that will bring me
tranquility and warmth.

I find them in you,

through your touch.

I hope to take advantage
of this luck,

and make it last.

Thank you.

Do you remember?

A FILM BY CHARLOTTE GAINSBOURG

The walls shone like public restrooms

Paris opened itself to us
Like a jewelry box

My nun's life is over

And here we are, defrocked

It was nice to have all three of them

They made you laugh

How I loved it

And even when
You see each other without me

After I left

I take up too much space

I take up too much space
Even to myself

I wanted to be perfect for you

I wanted to be perfect for you

I won't go anywhere

I won't flee

I won't move until the day dawns
If you ask it of me

I wanted to be good
So I would be loved

Brave so I would be admired

I leapt from the train for daddy

I watched over my brother
Even when I was scared stiff

I regret you never saw me as a child

I was also violent

I broke my brother's skull
With a pinecone

I hid in a tree and aimed at him
Because he had made fun of me

I even killed for you

I became an assassin

I wanted to be perfect for you

I wanted to be perfect... for you

I looked at you so hard in the dark

You should have started
As you lay dreaming

Sleep! I can't stand you

I hate you

You killed me

Did you kill any others?

Do their corpses come back at night
To lift your eyelids?

Back then
You felt nothing for me

I wanted to be the one
You loved most

No, I won't wake you
From your selfish slumber

To say what?