Naked Normandy (2018) - full transcript
In Mêle-sur-Sarthe, a small Norman village, the agricultural crisis seriously affects the exhausted and ruined breeders, who are looking for ideas to draw attention to their dying profession. They are organizing a demonstration and a roadblock on the RN 12 near Mortagne-au-Perche. An American art photographer, Blake, who specializes in the nude, in search of the perfect place to create his next photographic work, finds himself blocked by the demonstration. During the meeting between Blake and Georges Balbuzard, peasant and mayor of the city, the latter decides to create a media buzz to help his fellow farmers: he hires him to photograph the people of the village naked, because they are professionally already bare. But the Normans are reluctant to undress, especially the village butcher Roger who knows that all men would very much like to see the naked body of his wife Gisèle, former Miss Calvados. Against the backdrop of ancestral family quarrels and generalized modesty, will modern art photography composed of nudes in the middle of Champ Chollet and the political buzz really take place? Blake is impatient, because the orientation of the sun will soon be unfavorable and the extras are slow to arrive .
(cows mooing)
(birds chirping)
(pin clanging)
(birds chirping)
(rooster crowing)
(cow moos)
(water splashing)
(zipper zipping)
(fly buzzing)
(grunts)
(gentle music)
(urine splashing)
(gentle music)
(birds chirping)
NORMANDY NUDE
My name is Chloé.
Six months ago,
we moved to Le Mele sur Sarthe.
Don't look. You've never heard of it.
600 inhabitants,
a big street and a church.
Period.
Because everything nice
got bombed in the war.
A village in Normandy like any other.
You don't know Normandy?
It's no great loss.
Fed up with Paris pollution
and stress,
my parents decided to move here.
Without even asking me.
At first it was for a holiday,
then Dad realised he could work
via the internet from here.
Mum built an oven
and started baking bread.
Tuesdays at 5am, she makes
organic bread to sell at the market.
On Thursday she goes to Mamers,
even further.
Dad went to Paris three days a week.
Then he decided two was enough.
Now he's down to one.
Today he's supposed
to go there by train.
Now even that's beyond him.
Forget something?
Hurry. You'll miss your train.
No more train.
The train is over.
Commotion today.
The farmers say things can't go on.
The price of meat and milk
keeps plunging.
They're sick of feeling screwed.
They built a giant roadblock
and mobilised the village.
If you only go out only on holidays
and never turn on the radio,
French farmers are suffering.
Things are so bad, every week
a farmer hangs himself in his barn.
So today is the big showdown.
- Hey, Balbu.
- You okay?
Hey, Georges.
How are you guys?
The leader is Georges Balbuzard,
the mayor.
Re-elected over 15 times.
The last time just barely, because
another town got the big supermarket.
Everyone likes Balbuzard.
He'd do anything for the village.
It drove his wife so crazy,
she ended up leaving.
Our livestock is our livelihood!
(horns honking)
Faster, Dad!
(protesters shouting in foreign language)
We're being strangled!
Soon, no meat in France.
How will our fields get grazed?
We'll short-circuit the system
that's been in place
for several decades now
to return to national production
with French proteins.
Alfalfa, clover...
I'm a butcher.
I work hand in hand
with farmers.
The same struggle over prices.
We want to make enough to live on.
Soon there will be no farmers, no food.
We work 15-hour days.
We're broke.
The prices keep plunging.
We're at the edge of the cliff.
We're about to fall.
Germans and Romanians slash prices.
Why does France allow it?
We sell off our meat for nothing!
The government must understand
we're all dying!
Bravo, Balbu!
(audience applauding)
We've seen corn fields,
wheat fields, colza.
We saw the stony plateaus,
we saw the shale cliffs.
We've taken hundreds of pictures.
Driven down gorges.
You like the creeks near Marseilles?
Yeah?
Not so much.
[Bradley] The lavender
on Valensole Plateau,
you adored it.
[Red Headed Man] Yeah,
what about the lavender
on the Valensole Plateau?
It was too violet.
Oh my God.
Know what, Newman?
This one field's like a,
it's been a wild goose chase.
We just haven't found
the right place is all.
[Red Headed Man] The
place doesn't exist.
The place is just in your mind.
(engine rumbling)
(horns honking)
What the fuck is goin' on?
(horns honking)
(drivers yelling)
He wants to go to Paris.
Impossible. It's blocked.
For everyone.
We go New York. We American.
"American"...
That's not a magic password.
Road blocked.
No, come on, please,
we got a plane to catch.
Aeroplane. Understand?
It is not against you.
We love America, we love Obama.
We love America. We love Obama.
- I understand.
- We love, you understand?
You forget Obama is gone.
Who cares? Obama is still Obama.
Americans aren't my thing.
This guy wants to get through.
Says he's American.
Fuck!
(horns honking)
We're gonna miss the fucking plane.
(door slams)
(horns honking)
It's the war, you know, like Vietnam.
Where do we go?
Stay here...
Wait, you wait.
Wait.
He can turn back.
Oh, yes-
We have a plane.
(all speaking in foreign language)
Hey!
Hey!
(engine rumbling)
(birds chirping)
Hey!
Hello.
We lost.
Uh huh.
We go Paris.
Paris?
[Bradley] Oui.
Paris.
It's easy. You go straight...
At the fork, go left, not right.
Drive on.
(shutter clicks)
At the manor house, go right, not left.
Right, left, right.
Exactly.
Good evening.
(engine rumbling)
(bell tolling)
(door creaking)
(door rattling)
(Vincent sighs)
(all chattering in foreign language)
MEETING HALL
Quiet, everyone.
Quiet down. We're almost on.
(all exclaiming)
Farmers in distress.
This morning, route A12 was blocked
in both directions.
Norman farmers won't give up.
They dumped hay, lit fires
and even brought cows
to protest milk and meat prices.
Traffic resumed late afternoon.
Farmers say they'll keep fighting.
Nicolas Corbar
and Damien Miniot reporting.
Our livestock is our livelihood!
They worked this land with their hands,
their tears, their blood...
their sweat.
They're the essence of France.
Victor Hugo sang
of heroes in shadows,
workers of the land.
There's nothing nicer
than farmers' cracked hands.
Earthy hands
which recall our ancestors' land.
I'll show him my cracked hands!
Not even two minutes on the crisis.
Roadblocks are useless.
Let's strike harder.
We'll get the same old subsidy.
What are we, beggars?
Of course not.
Everyone knows we work like mad.
Politicians are the problem.
Screw them!
We're invisible to them.
Maybe we should stop using sulphates.
Mr. Ecologist,
are you with us or not?
- I'm with you.
- Say so.
I am!
Didier is right.
You spend a fortune on sulphates.
Your cow feed comes from Argentina.
And you complain!
Maurice, where were you
this morning?
- With my cattle.
- We all have cattle.
Talk about solidarity.
I'm not on your side.
You're all mistaken.
More debt won't help us.
Don't lecture.
You steal a field and we should listen?
I stole nothing!
Why did my father hang himself?
Tell me why!
Eugene, stop.
We must stick together.
So long.
Maurice...
One solution:
use our tractors to block Paris.
And then we use guns.
You want to end up in jail?
Who cares?
What do I have to lose?
If we go down, the country does.
Relax.
Vandalism won't get us anywhere.
Everyone will hate us!
Should we just shut up?
Not at all. We'll keep fighting.
We need to try something different.
We need to strike their minds.
Did losing the supermarket
strike their minds?
It would have been a big help.
With the local taxes.
You voted against it.
You said it would hurt our shops.
They built it anyway,
one town over.
Serves you right!
Listen next time!
(all yelling in foreign language)
They no longer know
the names of the fountains.
They no longer know
the taste of the water.
They no longer know
the grating of the chain
in the well when the sun is high.
Will our children ever know
how to talk to horses,
how to count stars...
(gentle music)
Yeah, I re-booked us so I think
we're gonna be in at about seven o'clock.
(gentle music)
Vincent!
Vincent Jousselin!
You come back
and don't say hello?
You'll wake everyone up!
I'm the mayor!
I can do as I please!
Here I am...
(Vincent laughs)
Say you're my friend.
I'm your friend, Balbu.
(Balbu sighs)
We fed this country for centuries
and now we're starving.
Can't we show some solidarity?
They're like kids,
fighting... bickering...
Stories as old as Methuselah.
I swear...
You haven't mentioned Betty.
Betty (laughs).
She left me two years ago.
Moved to Alençon with a dentist,
believe it or not.
I understand.
No holiday in ten years.
I'd promised.
So I reserved a hotel in Greece.
Then I cancelled to help
rescue the sawmill.
I saved it from liquidation.
22 jobs.
I saved 22 jobs.
She didn't forgive me.
She could have understood.
I was never around.
Town hall, demonstrations, the farm...
She was right.
Pour me some calvados.
- You're drunk.
- Drunk beats dead.
You're far from dead!
We're at the end of our ropes.
We're over with.
Too bad you quit.
You look like a champ!
You're the champ.
(bell chimes)
(announcer speaking in foreign language)
I need your passport.
I'm gonna check in.
The field, it's the place.
What field, what place?
This is the place where
we're gonna take the picture.
What's going on?
We have a plane to
catch, we're going home.
We're not gonna take that plane.
We gotta go back as quickly
as possible to the field.
What field?
Let's think about it.
Let's go back to New York and then decide.
I gotta take that picture, now.
I'm not staying here any longer.
Listen, we go back,
settle into the village,
take the picture, we'll
be done in two weeks.
You know it's gonna take two months.
You think you can take
the picture in two weeks?
- Sure, sure.
- I'm definitely getting
on that plane.
And your field isn't gonna go anywhere.
We can come back in a month.
In a month everything will have changed.
The light, the trees.
It'll be a different field.
I'm finished.
I'm done.
Well, I'm still here.
(engine rumbling)
The Hanged Wolf.
(brakes squealing)
(tractor engine rumbling)
Don't worry, Eugene.
We won't abandon you.
(Eugene sobbing softly)
Hey.
(machinery whirring)
(birds chirping)
(truck beeping)
(all speaking in foreign language)
I don't believe it.
- It's hunky Vincent!
- It's been ages!
(Vincent chuckles)
- Glad to see you, Aurelie.
- Me too, Vincent.
How's life?
Her wedding is next week!
She didn't wait for you.
I'd have married you
if you'd wanted.
When did I hear from you last?
I sent you messages.
Oh yeah, once. Three years ago.
(all laughing)
What an epistolary exchange!
All you care about are Parisian girls.
They're okay for having fun,
nothing more.
You prefer Normans?
No, or he wouldn't have left.
It's neither Parisians nor Normans.
You like no one.
(all laughing)
You'll come to my wedding, right?
Yes, I'll still be here.
I'm her witness.
Give me your number.
My number?
To tell you where it is.
Okay... I'll give it to you.
- She got his number!
- What a pro.
Bravo, Charlotte.
(all giggling)
(upbeat music)
(Thierry sneezes)
(Thierry panting)
(upbeat music)
You okay, honey?
Mm hm.
What you watching?
A documentary about animal suffering.
- Why watch that?
- It's life, Dad.
You're too young. Shut it off.
(Thierry sneezes)
So much sneezing is weird.
Just a tiny cold.
Your tiny cold started
when we moved here.
Not at all.
So?
(radio anchor speaking
in foreign language)
Listen. Hear that?
Ring road closed. Paris jammed.
50 miles of traffic along the Seine.
What asses...
How can you run the agency
if you never go?
We have the internet, Skype...
Live with the times!
Help me, hon!
Dad pretends he's fine,
that he's unaware.
I know it's psychosomatic.
He'd rather die than admit it.
Shrinks call this "denial".
(Thierry sniffing)
These are real tomatoes.
I want to be a shrink.
I practice on my parents.
It's a lot of work.
I keep telling you:
peelings go in the compost.
- Your compost stinks.
- Not at all.
It's vegetal. It nourishes the earth.
This carrot really tastes like a carrot.
Look.
(engine rumbling)
What is boudin?
It's blood.
Blood?
What do you mean blood?
It's blood, it's blood.
It's pig blood.
(gravel crunching)
(rooster crowing)
(hens clucking)
Hello.
[Balbu] Bonjour.
Bonjour.
[Balbu] Bonjour.
We're the Americans.
My name is Bradley.
This is Mr. Newman.
You called before.
Give me a minute.
What are you doing?
Inseminating the cow.
It gives a baby.
To the cow.
Where's the bull?
There is no bull.
There is no bull?
I'm the bull.
Ah.
(all chuckling)
It's Chollet field.
- It's Chollet field.
- That's its name.
Mr. Newman
is a very famous photographer.
He works all over the world.
And he always shoots everyone naked.
It can be in cities,
at the sea, in forests...
Sometimes 100, 200 people.
Even 500.
Everyone naked.
Oui.
Totally naked.
What for?
His pictures are art.
With hundreds of naked people.
(men chuckling)
Like in nature.
No, it's not nature, no.
Mr. Newman doesn't like nature.
Art is more important than nature.
What brings you to Le Mele sur Sarthe?
- Why here?
- He likes the field.
Oui.
I love Chollet field.
What makes it special?
Mr. Newman
will ask the villagers to pose.
To pose naked?
Oui.
Without clothes.
Naked.
People pose stark naked?
Oui.
Great. Now I've heard it all.
We can't sell our goods,
swamped with taxes,
and you come all smiles
asking us to strip on a field?
Americans!
They took everything from us.
We're stripped bare.
You know what?
Get in your car
and go back to New York.
- Mr. Balbuzard, please.
- Don't insist.
(rain pattering)
(hens clucking)
Good day.
(dog barking)
Can you believe it?
We've already been stripped bare!
It's enough.
That's true.
(gentle music)
I love Americans. I'm a fan.
They freed our village.
I wasn't born,
but my mother was obsessed.
I have a surprise for you.
General Oliver slept here
while the Americans crossed Normandy
to join Leclerc.
The Americans requisitioned the hotel.
And my mother adored them.
I wonder if she had a crush
on the general.
We kept his room intact.
It's never been used since.
Come see below.
I'll sleep here.
You'll like it more downstairs.
We renovated.
You have TV, mini-bar, Wi-Fi...
Here is fine.
Dump manure at the prefecture?
Pour milk on the highway?
Take the manager
of a large chain store hostage?
(all applauding)
Nope.
Hang ourselves.
No, on the contrary.
We get naked on a field.
The whole village.
What the hell?
An American photographer
just got in.
Everyone naked on a field!
You mean naked with underwear?
You don't get it.
Naked means no underwear.
- Is this a joke?
- I'm very serious.
This artist guy has a style:
undressing everyone.
It's cold in the morning. We'll freeze.
Wait till spring.
We won't wait forever.
We act now.
- I won't strip.
- We've already been stripped bare!
You owe the bank 145,000.
You make 1,000 a month.
Nothing is yours.
You work to pay off the interest.
True or false?
True.
And you, Eugene?
You weren't stripped bare?
They just repossessed my tractor.
Next it'll be my land.
Me too. They'll take it all.
He'll undress women too?
Women, men, young, old.
Everyone.
You'll be posing, Lucie?
If you all do it, I may be tempted.
(all exclaiming)
(man whistles)
If you go, I may too.
If we do it,
all of France will see us.
Every station will cover it,
not just local ones.
We'll get national coverage.
Worldwide, even.
Like those Russian girls against Putin.
Femen.
They got sent to prison.
Not us.
Our strength is in numbers.
They want us all naked.
I won't pose nude in a field.
No way...
You go to a nudist colony every summer,
but your butt is sacred.
Sorry, nudism is different.
A communion with nature.
A communion with nature?
What will the Americans do?
Make money off our bodies.
Are you crazy?
What's the difference?
They routed the Germans,
but won't make us strip.
Remember, they bombed our villages.
(all chattering)
To stop the Germans
from going to the front.
Our house got hit.
We lost everything.
Grandpa never got over it.
Enough!
Didn't they save our skins?
- They liberated us!
- But they don't own us.
Who's talking about owning?
It's a great offer.
Something new.
And you talk about 70 years ago.
There's no duty to remember?
Yes, but I live in the present.
The danger is now. We fight now.
Let's give it our all.
For more than a minute of local news.
30 minutes, an hour...
It'll be a tidal wave.
(upbeat music)
(birds chirping)
(pesticides hissing)
Are you crazy?
You're sickos!
Congrats!
Pesticides! And you allow it?
You realise what farmers do to nature?
Kill insects.
No butterflies! Empty beehives!
They pollute and kill.
Nothing's left!
- It's seed time.
- Screw seed time.
We should ban farmers
from farmland.
Want a ride?
- Adam and Eve. Like it?
- A lot.
Rubens...
This one?
I prefer the one before.
- Cranach's version.
- Cranach...
- Eve's not too skinny?
- I like Cranach.
All right.
It's not a beauty contest.
- And this Eve next to this Adam?
- Different eras.
She's 16th century. He's 17th.
Is that a problem?
We're targeting villagers, not artists.
(Thierry sneezes)
Excuse me.
So these two?
I outline him.
I take Eve.
We choose a field.
Do you like this one?
And there we go.
They become small.
You like it?
Now look.
Earthly paradise on Chollet field.
I'll give you the file.
Ah, bonjour.
[Balbu] Bonjour.
Hello, Mayor.
- Coffee?
- I don't have much time.
Newman wants to do
a picture of the village!
- The photographer?
- Yes, not Paul Newman.
I don't believe it.
He's that famous?
- He's a star.
- Big time.
He shows all over.
His prints cost a fortune.
A group nude here?
- I told the villagers.
- And?
Tough road ahead.
Need a 42-year-old Parisian?
You wouldn't mind undressing?
She danced for a choreographer
into on-stage nudity.
You didn't mind?
Not at all.
Mum, you're not going to strip again!
We're all the same.
That's no reason to show it.
You're so uptight.
- She's uptight.
- You're an exhibitionist.
I'm off. Thanks for the file.
My pleasure.
(gentle music)
(engine rumbling)
(keyboard keys clacking)
(upbeat music)
(birds chirping)
(gate clanging)
(cows mooing)
(dog barking)
(upbeat music)
Everyone naked at Chollet Field.
(all speaking in foreign language)
Naked teachers at Chollet field.
(paper rustling)
(gentle music)
Photo April 30th.
Ev yone naked at Chollet field.
(all speaking in foreign language)
(birds chirping)
(pins clattering)
Have you heard?
They chose Chollet field
for thair nude pic.
Yeah. So what?
Mum and I are okay to strip.
- It's a good cause. Why not?
- You don't get it.
They chose Chollet field.
They chose my field!
It's not our field. It's Maurice's.
It's our field!
For the last ten generations!
It was my father's,
my grandfather's,
my great-grandfather's!
It's our field!
Can you prove it's yours?
No.
The deed was lost in the war.
There you go.
Your Chollet field is killing us.
Let it go. It's ancient history.
I work 16 hours a day, 7/7.
I can't even pay for your honeymoon
Now Maurice is renting the field!
Dad, I'll spend honeymoon
here with you.
Eugene!
Look how pretty your daughter is.
(bell tolling)
Hello, Gisele, ladies...
- Your roast.
- Thanks. Have a nice day.
Good timing.
We want to talk to you.
Questions about the photo.
If it helps, I'm glad to come.
It's just embarrassing
to do it with neighbours.
You'd prefer with strangers
from Mortagne or Remalard?
Come now, ma'am.
Strangers are easier.
Seeing it all then shopping together
is weird!
Mrs. Leclerc!
We won't eyeball each other's butts.
We're posing for art.
Why us?
We're not the prettiest people.
Yes we are!
And such pretty butts!
Let's show the world!
Our mayor is a madman!
Yes, but the region's future
depends on it.
Everyone's future does.
Our pretty Gisele will come, won't she?
That's kind of you, but no thanks.
We need our Miss Calvados.
Yesterday's news, as you know.
Mr. Roger, tell your wife to.
I'm against the photo.
Dead-set against.
They're undressing our women now.
What next?
You can pose nude when you're young.
Afterwards...
It's indecent.
You're our finest flower.
You know it. It's true.
(birds chirping)
(Thierry grunting)
You're all knotted in there.
I'm getting bad vibes.
I'm in great shape. I love the country.
I'd say the country doesn't like you.
You'd make a fortune in Paris.
I went once when I was 20.
It's not my thing
Sit up now.
I hear you... That's why I left.
- You have a gift.
- Dad was a diviner.
A designer?
No, a diviner.
Found water deep underground.
Like magic.
So you gave up cattle?
My brother manages fine alone.
I make just as much as him, even more.
What do you think about the photo?
I see everyone naked here.
It's no big deal.
Move it, girls, move it.
[Bradley] Hello, Balbu.
Hello.
So?
Mr. Newman didn't come?
He stayed at the hotel.
Cows terrify him.
I see...
Your boss is a strange guy.
His parents were religious,
from Salt Lake City.
Newman grew up
never seeing anyone naked.
One day, at the age of 22,
he saw 30 naked men
in a locker room.
What a shock.
So he began undressing everyone.
Exactly.
I was a war photographer.
I did Iraq, Afghanistan.
Then I got wounded.
I had to quit.
Newman asked me to work with him.
It's been ten years now.
How's it going with the models?
There's still some resistance.
Isolated cases, stubborn folk.
You'll get the 200 signatures?
200, I can't say.
We have only ten days.
Mentalities have to evolve.
Our villagers
don't feel like stripping down.
They're just not modern.
You're in Normandy.
We don't just strip.
Even when it's 100°,
we wear shirts and pants.
So what do we do?
I'll persuade them one by one
if need be.
Relax. It'll be fine.
In ten days, we'll all be in the field!
(pedestrians chattering)
(engine rumbling)
(woman speaking in foreign language)
You want us all to undress?
Oui.
I'm the photographer.
I'd like some boudin.
We're closed today.
Closed?
Okay.
(gentle music)
(engine rumbling)
FOR SALE
(bicycle ticking)
We're closed.
Sir, we're closed...
I understand but just
one minute, si vous plait?
Kodak is caput, (speaking
in foreign language).
[Vincent] Oui.
I want to buy the pictures.
Those pictures?
Marriages, communions... Really?
Oui, oui.
Are you sure?
Oui.
All right.
Wow, and all these,
They're all for sale?
It's expensive. More than the pictures.
Beautiful thing.
A Polaroid.
600.
Oui.
(Vincent speaking in foreign language)
My father.
Your father was a photographer?
This was his shop.
You're one too?
No, I'm a printer. I mean, I was.
It's like a treasure chest.
(Polaroid whirring)
It should work now.
Let's try.
Excellent!
It's great!
Digital, it's killed all of this.
My dad said digital killed silver film.
Digital killed your father?
No.
Calvados did him in.
This is where my dad took ID pictures.
The whole village, on this chair.
Crazy!
Come work with me.
No, my dad was the photographer,
not me.
Yes, but... you know photography.
I'm leaving though.
In three weeks I'll have sold this place.
What's that?
You pull the latch.
You'll see.
Look at me.
See me?
That is, that's just wonderful (laughs)!
(engine rumbling)
(Balbu sighs)
We all have a wiener.
There's no need to make a big stink.
Ten minutes and it's over.
I don't feel like it.
In the army
I had a hard time showering.
It embarrassed me
when my ex looked at me.
Naked on Chollet field...
Even if it helps the village?
How about you?
You'll show yours?
We're at war.
Showing my dick doesn't faze me.
I don't agree.
I won't go.
I got nothing to hide.
Don't think...
- All the more reason.
- I don't!
Get down now.
Why such anger?
Chollet is my field.
I'll lend it to you for free.
But leave me alone now!
(engine rumbling)
(upbeat music)
(bicycle ticking)
(spray can hissing)
(upbeat music)
(birds chirping)
You can't buy non-local meat.
If you do, you're in for trouble.
Here.
Take this instead.
Product of Normandy.
So why sell non-local stuff?
You really are naive!
They'll sell anything for a profit.
That's why we can't get by.
You're... a real militant.
Not really.
I've taken on the right reflexes.
- So this one's good.
- Yes.
Thanks.
We've met, you know.
No, I'd have remembered.
Bike race in Mamers, 4 years ago.
We won. We cheered you on.
Big celebration.
No one understood why you left.
Talented cyclist. You had grace.
No.
I had no grace.
My dad had it for me.
Cycling was his dream, not mine.
You don't remember?
I gave you the bouquet.
No way.
Yes way.
So you kissed me on the podium?
No, I didn't kiss boys back then.
And now?
Now?
(bell tolling)
(shade whirring)
(birds chirping)
Take it off, Gisele!
(weed wacker whirring)
What are they paying you?
I'm not renting the field.
I'm landing it.
They offered 5,000. Take it.
Take it yourself.
The Americans can't use it.
It's my field.
Can't we move on?
It's not our problem.
It's over, ancient history.
Ancient for you, Maurice.
I remember taking down my dad.
You ever untie a hanged man?
He didn't hang himself
over the field.
You know it.
He couldn't get by any more.
The field would have saved him.
I reclaim it!
Your rifle?
Want to shoot?
My girl is getting married.
I won't screw up today.
But never set foot here again.
- Hi, Gisele.
- Mr. Balbuzard...
Hello, Roger...
(freezer humming)
Graffiti on my window.
Three times this week.
What does it say?
It says... "Take it off, Gisele".
"Take it off, Gisele"?
That's why you called?
Come on, it's not funny.
Any idea who could have done it?
Sometimes I think it's Leclerc,
since I stopped buying from him.
Or maybe Bezon's son,
the apprentice I fired.
Or else Lefranc.
He owes me 2,000 Euros I lent him.
He isn't the sneaky type.
I thought I only had friends, but now...
Know what we'll do?
Put a camera across the street.
We'll see him
if he strikes again.
All right?
Huh?
Merci.
Can we leave?
I'm freezing my ass off.
It's my lower back.
You have to tighten it.
- Can I remove it at night?
- Sure.
Balbuzard, I'm glad to see you.
Hello, Mr. Ferol.
You weren't elected
to undress the village.
I'll alert the Prefecture,
even the Senate.
- Calm down.
- I don't want to!
Saving the village is a pretext
for mass humiliation.
Shame on you!
You know what?
Take a tranquilliser.
That's your reaction?
I'm warning you. I'll fight.
Mr Ferol, did you go to catechism?
Yes, I'm a devout Catholic.
You remember Genesis.
Chapter 2: "Man and woman were naked
yet felt no shame."
(engine rumbling)
(shade whirring)
(Gisele humming)
(shower water splashing)
What is it, honey?
Nothing.
Something's bothering you.
No, no.
You promise...
you won't pose nude?
I told you I have no desire to.
Stop asking now.
All right?
I promise.
Only you can look at me naked.
(gentle music)
(owl hooting)
(pencil scratching)
Look what I found in the room.
(patrons chattering)
All these young lives sacrificed
so that we could be free.
Hm.
Some never saw their 18th birthday.
Yeah.
The geometry is...
Geometry?
That's how I wanna organize
the picture in the Chollet.
Look.
200 pickets for the models
to stand in front of.
Then, we can have abstract bodies
just as far as the eye
can see like the crosses.
(door slams)
(wind whistling)
Here it is, the field.
My field, the Chollet.
Thank you.
(wind whistling)
Who is this guy?
I have no idea.
Bonjour!
- Who are you?
- The owner of this field.
It belongs to you?
I really love this field.
Chollet, huh?
I'm very happy
to take a photograph here.
With the models.
I'll put the models
here...
all around here, everywhere.
Naked women and men.
It's gonna be great.
Impossible.
Not possible?
Leave now.
Explain to him, Bradley.
(Bradley exhales)
We're taking...
a picture in five days.
Pretty picture.
Photo artist.
(shot firing)
- Oh my God!
- Good Christ!
Are you fuckin' crazy!
(shot firing)
Oh my God!
Oh my God!
Oh my God!
(engine rumbling)
(hens clucking)
We all need that picture
and you shoot at the Americans!
Screw the photo
and the Americans!
We'll pay you to let us take it.
- I want my field.
- You'll stop it all.
We can finally be heard.
I want my field back.
No one knows whose it is anymore!
Check the land registry.
It was bombed during the war!
Step foot on my field
and I'll shoot.
This is how you behave?
Don't ask me to negotiate
your loans.
You can die on your field.
Fine.
- What?
- Nothing!
(engine rumbling)
(birds chirping)
(door slams)
Isn't it nice here?
You can do whatever you want.
You can put 500 naked Normans here!
No one will come bother you.
I want Chollet field.
Pain in the ass.
What makes Chollet field better?
It's small, ugly.
Nothing to write home about.
Look at this field. Look at it!
Cows.
That oak tree. Isn't is pretty?
Come on!
He wants Chollet field.
Forget Chollet field.
It's history.
That lunatic will kill us
if we set foot there.
Why?
There is a problem of... "division"
over the field.
What does that mean, "division"?
It's France.
You go to war for 100 years
and forget why.
So what do we do?
Do the photo at the Prefecture.
In front.
300 farmers stripped bare.
Talk about impact!
The Prefecture...
I prefer Chollet field.
(door slams)
(engine rumbling)
(keys jingling)
(shop bell chimes)
Still here? You didn't leave?
We sign in two weeks.
You don't even call.
My kiss had no effect on you?
Sure it did.
Curb your enthusiasm!
Can I have a drink?
A drink?
Um... yes.
You're a bit out of it.
What are you up to?
Packing up old cameras.
That American guy came
and bought half the shop.
Cool.
I came here as a kid.
Really?
Mum brought me for my communion.
I was very religious then.
I came with my white alb
and a veil.
Clutching onto a rosary.
Your dad was nice.
Told stories during the session.
The photo may still be here.
Mm hm.
Can you look?
It'll take hours.
Come on, please.
(Vincent sighs)
Portraits.
(wrapping rustling)
(gentle music)
(Vincent chuckles)
So?
How would I do at Chollet field?
Let me fix something.
Snow scape.
It's cold out.
(Vincent speaking in foreign language)
(Charlotte chuckles)
Vincent?
No kiss?
(gentle music)
For weeks
Volker was supposed to visit.
In the end, he came by helicopter.
Volker is Dad's best friend
and former partner.
He and Dad founded the agency.
But a start-up made Volker rich.
Dad's in denial
about his psoriasis, eczema
and asthma.
He hasn't been spared one allergy.
Volker wants to take Dad back,
but stands no chance.
Take off your glasses.
Why?
Take them off!
If you insist...
Have you seen yourself?
It's just hay fever.
It'll be gone soon.
Come with me to Paris.
See a specialist,
then come back.
I have everything here.
I see a healer.
Her father was a diviner.
How about the agency?
They need you.
Put them back on track.
I'm done with it.
We have our veggies here, squash,
tomatoes, Valerie's bread.
We're autonomous.
What's got into you?
I've changed.
Can't you understand change?
Deviating from the dumb blueprint?
Don't be aggressive.
I'm not, but you know one blueprint:
your own.
I've moved on.
Volker left empty-handed.
I tried to hitch a ride
but he said no.
He said I belonged with Dad
and that he'd get better.
(birds chirping)
(crickets chirping)
(food sizzling)
Balbu?
- Anyone home?
- Come in.
This is Charlotte.
She works at the milk factory.
I know you. Blamand's daughter.
Exactly.
Dad wasn't upset
you left the farm?
No, well a little.
We're resuming contact.
Her dad is stubborn as hell.
Tell me, Vincent.
Isn't it us two?
Charlotte and I had plans to go out.
Then you invited me to dinner, so...
So what?
So I...
I figured...
All three of us could eat.
Good thinking!
(all laughing)
Gotcha!
I broke into a cold sweat!
Some white wine?
(gentle music)
Look what I found
while I was cleaning up.
There are hundreds.
That's me when I was four.
- Recognise me?
- Cutie.
The silo they knocked down 5 years ago.
- Remember?
- The former mayor.
Look at this.
Gisele.
Miss Calvados.
- Pretty!
- Gorgeous.
He took all these pictures in secret.
How are things
with the American?
It's blocked every which way
I'd love to see
naked Normans in Chollet field.
Me too.
Let's listen to the news.
Twice more than average.
In the cows' muscles is iron.
When sausages are made,
nitrites are added,
a sort of salt mixed in with spices,
used to conserve food longer.
A report from the WHO confirms
beyond any doubt
that red meat is carcinogenic.
Red meat and sausages
have been targeted before.
But it's the first time
the WHO has issued a damning report.
Eating meat can lead to diabetes
obesity and heart disease.
Livestock is not only a health risk.
Livestock accounts for 18%
of greenhouse gases in the world.
More than transportation!
Livestock is thus a decisive cause
of global warming.
This catastrophe
should be avoided
by reducing our intake of meat.
Damn... they really want to kill us.
(upbeat music)
(rooster crowing)
(engine rumbling)
(doors slamming)
(all speaking in foreign language)
After the news last night,
we have to go.
Yes, let's do it!
(upbeat music)
(crickets chirping)
Merci.
(upbeat music)
(crickets chirping)
(cows mooing)
Nothing to hide.
Madame, you can't go to Chollet field.
Why?
Having fun isn't just for kids.
I want to be in the picture.
A woman your age...
I'm firm.
I wash every day with cold water.
Merci, au revoir.
Goodbye, Madame de Quincy.
Hello, Roger. How are you today?
I haven't slept a wink in over a week.
I'll give you Imovane.
You'll sleep like a baby.
The picture is keeping you up.
- How do you know?
- No one can sleep.
Reduced to parading about obscenely...
I wrote to the Prefecture.
No answer.
They'll take their picture.
Oui, oui.
My wife is going.
At the same time... Gisele is so pretty.
All the local men will ogle her.
Those bastards.
We mustn't judge.
Bastards.
Come on, Roger.
Everything will be fine.
People will come and feast their eyes.
A week later, it'll be forgotten.
Bastards.
(gentle music)
(keyboard keys clacking)
Take it off, Gisele!
(bell ringing)
(kids chattering)
You can get in trouble.
Vandalism, sexist language, libel.
I don't care. I'm a minor.
Minors can have police records.
Roger was freaking out.
He thought he had dangerous enemies.
Serves him right.
In ten years, there'll be no meat,
farmers or butchers.
Life will be better.
I'm floored.
Who tells you such nonsense?
Your poor parents!
I don't care what they say.
I want out of here.
I prefer Paris.
Buckle up.
(engine rumbling)
Apologise to Mr. Roger now!
Never!
He's a murderer of innocent cows!
You're crazy!
Chloé spray-painted the butchery.
She's in trouble.
We'll sort it out.
No real trouble.
- But why?
- Butchers are scum!
Have you seen slaughterhouses?
They kill and torture
defenceless animals!
Mr. Roger did nothing to you.
You trapped me into coming here.
I had no say.
I was happy in Paris.
I don't care. It won't last.
Know why?
Save it for later.
With global warming,
Normandy will become a desert.
The heat will kill everything.
No more rain.
95° in the shade.
Yellow fields and cracked earth.
No more grass.
Cows, dying from thirst.
Skin and bones!
(eerie music)
(cow mooing)
(vultures cawing)
(eerie music)
(thunder rumbling)
(rain pattering)
(door slams)
(rain pattering)
(door latches)
Are you okay, Dad? You look weird.
I dreamt Normandy was a desert.
End of the world.
(Aurelie laughs)
Dad, my wedding doesn't mean
the world is ending.
(rain pattering)
Okay and these angles, over there.
Okay, you understand?
(upbeat music)
(mallet thudding)
(Mr. Newman chuckles)
(Bradley chuckles)
It worked.
(upbeat music)
It's the Americans.
It's my daughter's wedding.
Join us.
Everyone, inside.
(all speaking in foreign language)
(all applauding)
Sit down...
We need to enlarge this room.
(all laughing)
Want a speech?
Good timing. I prepared one.
Aurelie, I knew you this small.
(all laughing)
Jimmy, you chose each other
because you're in love.
Congratulations.
In our world, let's be frank,
where the strong trample the weak,
a world which negates us,
stomps on us...
marriage is a bet on the future,
as we know.
But the future...
are we sure we have one?
As long as Romanian and German beef
invade our market, we have no future.
Take a look at export figures
since Russia shut its borders.
The Chinese market plummeted too.
It's a wedding,
not a political rally.
Dad!
You're right.
Your dad is right.
Today is about your love.
Yours for Jimmy, and his for you.
You managed
to find a way out of the despair.
We have one hope.
Thanks our American friends.
(audience applauding)
Stand up.
(audience applauding)
You've shown support for the photo.
Even if some of you have doubts.
"Shoul I do the picture or not?"
I'm summoning you:
Come for us.
All our lives are at stake.
I'm in.
You'll come to the field?
I'll strip off my wedding dress...
on the double!
Great!
Me too!
Everyone keeps asking
if I'll be posing...
All right, Balbu. I'll do it.
(audience applauding)
Excellent!
Miss Calvados is among us!
Our prettiest flower.
So...
now come have a drink.
You didn't marry us.
(all laughing)
(Balbu speaking in foreign language)
Those people buying the shop...
They want to move in fast.
I agreed to next month.
That's great!
Why tell me?
To be honest with you.
Because we're sleeping together?
No, no, no, no, no.
- Not at all.
- Scared I'll get high hopes?
No.
Think I'll beg you to stay,
if I fall in love?
I never said that!
Don't worry, it won't happen.
Live your life.
I don't care if you stay or go.
So long.
(solemn music)
(dog barking)
(keys jingling)
What got into you?
What got into you?
Huh, Gisele?
You decided to be in the picture?
(brush thuds)
(Gisele sighs)
You promised me.
Remember? You said...
Shut up, Roger. That's enough.
Stop talking.
(birds chirping)
Hello, Josy.
- Is that blood pudding?
- Mr. Newman's.
He has it for breakfast?
Ah, Josy.
Your blood pudding.
Ah, I see.
Good morning, sir.
Hi, hi.
- Bradley.
- Hello, Balbu.
So today's the day.
The big day.
In two hours,
we'll see the village naked.
- We're counting on you.
- It'll be nice.
Taste it.
Best blood pudding in the region.
What are you waiting for, Newman?
It's delicious.
Roger! Perfect timing!
Mr. Newman is tasting
your blood pudding.
Finally!
You okay? You look odd.
Mr. Newman?
Don't take the picture.
What's got into you, Roger?
Mr. Newman?
Don't take it.
Some other time.
Everyone's waiting.
Mr. Newman?
Don't take the picture.
Give me the knife.
Mr. Newman?
Give it to me.
Roger, please. Calm down.
(knife clinks)
(Bradley groaning)
Stop this.
Don't screw up!
Stop it.
Mr. Newman?
Don't take...
Drop the knife! Drop it!
(knife clinks)
(Balbu grunts)
(dishes clattering)
Mr. Newman?
Don't take the picture.
My wife will be posing.
Stark naked.
Her name is Gisele.
Okay?
You mustn't take it.
Roger, calm down!
(knife clattering)
(elbow thuds)
(Roger grunts)
(dishes clattering)
Sit down.
We've gotta get outta here.
These people are crazy.
- You're going?
- It's over.
Don't go!
We are so close, Newman.
They're all out there waiting for us.
We can do this.
Huh?
It's Vincent.
I don't get it. There's no one.
Call me back.
What's going on, Vincent?
Where's everyone?
They're coming!
(all speaking in foreign language)
(engine rumbling)
(birds chirping)
Where the hell are the models?
- What happened?
- Roger went wild.
- What's going on?
- I called everyone.
Everyone has an emergency.
Creamery,
milking...
They say they'll come later.
We need them now!
Where are all the Normans?
I have no idea.
We've been waiting for you!
We're going to do it. Don't worry.
(all speaking in foreign language)
Hey, Balbu?
What the hell is goin' on?
Where are the Normans?
I don't know what's going on.
You're 'playing us for fools.
You lied to us.
No one showed up!
No one!
They're coming. They promised.
Too late now.
The light is gone.
Gotta go.
- We're leaving.
- Wait. We'll do it tomorrow!
I'll tell everyone to come.
Don't go!
We'll see you another time.
Sorry.
You can't leave with just a sorry!
What will happen to our farmers?
It's not our problem anymore.
They'll come. They promised.
Good luck, Balbu.
I'll be frank.
I've had enough of Normandy.
I'll call them.
They'll be here tomorrow.
You have my word.
Your word?
(engine rumbling)
Wait.
Wait!
Coming?
Here we are!
(solemn music)
Never got to taste the boudin.
(dramatic orchestral music)
(fire crackling)
(Balbu groaning)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(gentle music)
(fire crackling)
It's over now.
The picture will never be taken.
In fact the picture made life here
more exciting.
Some people were fer,
some were against.
There was lively discussion.
Not any more.
The villagers will never be nude.
They're orphans.
Stone slabs to the fallen dead.
Only Ferol, the pharmacist, is happy.
Roger was locked up for a day
but Balbuzard dropped charges.
They let him go.
Life go on, but things aren't rosy.
(gentle music)
Bonjour.
How are you?
Well?
All good?
Haven't seen Balbu in three days.
I left ten messages. No answer.
Something wrong?
Yes, you let him down.
That's what's wrong.
How disappointing.
Bezon, Didier, Lefranc, everyone!
I figured everyone went.
Michelle and I thought we'd come late.
Me too.
We figured wrong, that's all.
- Should we go see him?
- Why?
To say we'll do it.
To get the Americans back.
The Americans left.
They won't be back, okay?
Maybe we can get Balbuzard
to call them.
You'll get your asses shot off.
You can trust me on that.
Can you go for us? Seriously...
(dog barking)
(cows mooing)
Balbu?
Go away. I won't see anyone.
- You're in pyjamas?
- Know what? Betty.
If I'd quit, she'd be here.
I sacrificed everything for ingrates!
They'll thank you some day.
The supermarket tried to bribe me!
20,000!
I refused it, like an ass! Why?
You did the right thing.
People say I got a commission.
Me, on the supermarket!
Balbu, just...
- Beat it.
- Come back.
No, no, no.
Leave me alone.
Aren't you leaving soon?
Get lost.
Beat it!
(rain pattering)
(log clattering)
What's wrong? We don't need wood.
Could be a cold spell.
No surprise
you didn't go for the picture.
I'll do the picture.
I've got nothing to hide.
What this?
Land registry.
How long has this been going on?
I don't know.
Generations.
- Dad said to keep quiet?
- Yes.
Before him, Grandpa.
And our great-grandfather.
And so on.
From father to son.
We passed the secret on.
So Eugene was right.
Tomorrow...
I'll go to a public notary.
Give it to Eugene yourself.
He'll gloat.
He gets his field.
You don't get it.
He doesn't care about that.
He wants you to give him the deed.
(upbeat music)
(engine rumbling)
(birds chirping)
(sheep bleating)
Get out of here.
You want a drink?
You bet I do.
(cows mooing)
(pensive music)
(dramatic music)
(engine rumbling)
(all speaking in foreign language)
Get chairs and glasses.
- Is that yours?
- Yes, pour it.
You have a still?
Sure, not you?
Of course do!
Home-distilled calvados is best!
(brakes squealing)
(all speaking in foreign language)
Hey, Balbu!
- We buried the hatchet.
- We're pals!
We're celebrating. Come join us.
[Eugene] Oh, Balbu!
(all speaking in foreign language)
(dramatic music)
(goats bleating)
When did you stop talking?
World War One!
- Why is he in the barn?
- I'm no cop!
A goat-whsiperer?
Don't laugh. Goats have feelings.
I speak to mine.
(pensive music)
(goats bleating)
Why is he in pyjamas?
Pyjamas?
Yeah, pyjamas.
What are you doing?
Stop!
This is Hanged Wolf house.
I'll hang.
Get down!
No!
I won't budge.
You don't hang yourself
at someone else's house!
Yeah, go home and do it.
I'll hang myself here if I want!
To think you weren't even able
to take that damned picture.
It was too much to ask.
Cow trouble, goat trouble.
Busy at the vet or repairing a tractor.
Every single one of you,
every single one
cared only about himself.
Everyone!
I gave it my all.
My wife left, but I kept on.
She'd have left anyway.
She couldn't stand you for years.
Not only
are you stupid,
but you're heartless.
No team spirit, no solidarity.
You squabble over a piece of field,
while farming all over is dying.
That's why we're dying.
It's not the quotas.
You didn't come
because you're ashamed.
You wallow in shame,
with your little secrets,
your dirty little dealings.
Enough already!
You're in no place to lecture us.
You deserve to hang
for the supermarket.
What about the supermarket?
It's your fault
they went to another town.
Cut the god-damn crap
with the supermarket!
You stupid imbeciles refused it!
Everyone knows you got bribed.
Me? I got bribed?
It was fishy.
(all yelling)
Fast!
(all groaning)
You okay?
(all laughing)
That's the last time!
(truck beeping)
(all speaking in foreign language)
I've made up my mind.
I'm not selling.
And?
Why should she care?
I'm not talking to you.
I want to stay with you.
Oh yeah?
And I don't have my say?
Guys come to a decision alone
and girls clap?
Remember...
your communion photo.
I found it.
(gentle music)
Girls, cerne and see.
My dad took this,
of the factory workers.
- Where are you?
- Behind Jocelyne.
Caroline.
She once told Mr. Gilbert off!
Who was Mr. Gilbert?
Personnel director, a real ass-hole.
(girls laughing)
(gentle music)
(engine rumbling)
(birds chirping)
(brakes squealing)
You better have a good
reason for waking me.
To see the light on Collet field.
At six in the morning?
I see why Newman wanted
in the morning.
The sun comes from the east.
So?
Newman wanted us lit face on.
I think it's better from the west.
To be back-lit.
It's softer on the face.
- So what?
- Still don't get it?
No.
I'll take the picture.
(Vincent sighs)
(upbeat music)
CLOSED EXCEPTIONALLY
(door whirring)
(birds chirping)
Take it off, Ferol.
Dad.
Stop pretending you're happy here.
I am, honey. I love it.
Tell me.
Say you hate the countryside.
Say you're fed up.
You tried. It didn't work.
There's no shame in it.
We'd love it if you'd stop faking it.
Want us to go back to Paris?
Go to a café, sit outside.
"The Reinitas". Rue Lafayette.
There's nothing green on Lafayette.
You're right. No trees or gardens.
Just asphalt.
Something's always going on.
Traffic jams, smell of gas,
all the cars.
Honking. Noise everywhere.
I love it.
(horn honking)
(all chattering)
- It's warm.
- There's frost!
- We'll find our clothes?
- I don't want Pechon's!
What's wrong?
Do they smell like cow shit?
Mind if we stand side by side?
No, on the contrary.
Nothing to hide any more.
Look who it is!
How's it going, Vincent?
- Hey, girls!
- Little kiss?
So you're gonna undress us?
(helicopter engine whirring)
You play it pretty straight.
(horn honking)
(all cheering)
(audience applauding)
Hello, friends!
You're here?
You kept saying you were against!
With Vincent,
it's no longer American imperialism.
We're among friends.
How are you?
I wanted to thank you.
For not pressing charges.
I don't know what got into me.
I know.
Tell him what you told me.
Okay well...
I'm okay with it.
Okay with what?
Okay, with Gisele...
Gisele what?
I'm okay with her doing the picture.
I thought with the meat crisis
and everything...
Germany, Romania...
We have to do it.
Gisele too?
Yes, Gisele too.
Fully naked?
Great news!
Roger is aboard.
Gisele can pose naked!
(all cheering)
(audience applauding)
(helicopter engine whirring)
(upbeat music)
Shall we go?
Let me check for clouds.
He's checking.
- Can we keep our boots?
- Keep your boots.
- Why keep them?
- Cow dung.
- No dung on Chollet field.
- He vacuumed.
(all laughing)
We can go.
What about it, friends?
On the count of three.
(all cheering)
(audience applauding)
(all counting in foreign language)
(upbeat music)
Wait!
It's my daughter. It's Chloé.
Look, it's Mum.
One,
two,
three!
(all cheering)
(shutter clicks)
(gentle music)
(birds chirping)
(upbeat music)
NORMANDY NUDE
(dramatic orchestral music)
(gentle music)
(upbeat music)
(birds chirping)
(pin clanging)
(birds chirping)
(rooster crowing)
(cow moos)
(water splashing)
(zipper zipping)
(fly buzzing)
(grunts)
(gentle music)
(urine splashing)
(gentle music)
(birds chirping)
NORMANDY NUDE
My name is Chloé.
Six months ago,
we moved to Le Mele sur Sarthe.
Don't look. You've never heard of it.
600 inhabitants,
a big street and a church.
Period.
Because everything nice
got bombed in the war.
A village in Normandy like any other.
You don't know Normandy?
It's no great loss.
Fed up with Paris pollution
and stress,
my parents decided to move here.
Without even asking me.
At first it was for a holiday,
then Dad realised he could work
via the internet from here.
Mum built an oven
and started baking bread.
Tuesdays at 5am, she makes
organic bread to sell at the market.
On Thursday she goes to Mamers,
even further.
Dad went to Paris three days a week.
Then he decided two was enough.
Now he's down to one.
Today he's supposed
to go there by train.
Now even that's beyond him.
Forget something?
Hurry. You'll miss your train.
No more train.
The train is over.
Commotion today.
The farmers say things can't go on.
The price of meat and milk
keeps plunging.
They're sick of feeling screwed.
They built a giant roadblock
and mobilised the village.
If you only go out only on holidays
and never turn on the radio,
French farmers are suffering.
Things are so bad, every week
a farmer hangs himself in his barn.
So today is the big showdown.
- Hey, Balbu.
- You okay?
Hey, Georges.
How are you guys?
The leader is Georges Balbuzard,
the mayor.
Re-elected over 15 times.
The last time just barely, because
another town got the big supermarket.
Everyone likes Balbuzard.
He'd do anything for the village.
It drove his wife so crazy,
she ended up leaving.
Our livestock is our livelihood!
(horns honking)
Faster, Dad!
(protesters shouting in foreign language)
We're being strangled!
Soon, no meat in France.
How will our fields get grazed?
We'll short-circuit the system
that's been in place
for several decades now
to return to national production
with French proteins.
Alfalfa, clover...
I'm a butcher.
I work hand in hand
with farmers.
The same struggle over prices.
We want to make enough to live on.
Soon there will be no farmers, no food.
We work 15-hour days.
We're broke.
The prices keep plunging.
We're at the edge of the cliff.
We're about to fall.
Germans and Romanians slash prices.
Why does France allow it?
We sell off our meat for nothing!
The government must understand
we're all dying!
Bravo, Balbu!
(audience applauding)
We've seen corn fields,
wheat fields, colza.
We saw the stony plateaus,
we saw the shale cliffs.
We've taken hundreds of pictures.
Driven down gorges.
You like the creeks near Marseilles?
Yeah?
Not so much.
[Bradley] The lavender
on Valensole Plateau,
you adored it.
[Red Headed Man] Yeah,
what about the lavender
on the Valensole Plateau?
It was too violet.
Oh my God.
Know what, Newman?
This one field's like a,
it's been a wild goose chase.
We just haven't found
the right place is all.
[Red Headed Man] The
place doesn't exist.
The place is just in your mind.
(engine rumbling)
(horns honking)
What the fuck is goin' on?
(horns honking)
(drivers yelling)
He wants to go to Paris.
Impossible. It's blocked.
For everyone.
We go New York. We American.
"American"...
That's not a magic password.
Road blocked.
No, come on, please,
we got a plane to catch.
Aeroplane. Understand?
It is not against you.
We love America, we love Obama.
We love America. We love Obama.
- I understand.
- We love, you understand?
You forget Obama is gone.
Who cares? Obama is still Obama.
Americans aren't my thing.
This guy wants to get through.
Says he's American.
Fuck!
(horns honking)
We're gonna miss the fucking plane.
(door slams)
(horns honking)
It's the war, you know, like Vietnam.
Where do we go?
Stay here...
Wait, you wait.
Wait.
He can turn back.
Oh, yes-
We have a plane.
(all speaking in foreign language)
Hey!
Hey!
(engine rumbling)
(birds chirping)
Hey!
Hello.
We lost.
Uh huh.
We go Paris.
Paris?
[Bradley] Oui.
Paris.
It's easy. You go straight...
At the fork, go left, not right.
Drive on.
(shutter clicks)
At the manor house, go right, not left.
Right, left, right.
Exactly.
Good evening.
(engine rumbling)
(bell tolling)
(door creaking)
(door rattling)
(Vincent sighs)
(all chattering in foreign language)
MEETING HALL
Quiet, everyone.
Quiet down. We're almost on.
(all exclaiming)
Farmers in distress.
This morning, route A12 was blocked
in both directions.
Norman farmers won't give up.
They dumped hay, lit fires
and even brought cows
to protest milk and meat prices.
Traffic resumed late afternoon.
Farmers say they'll keep fighting.
Nicolas Corbar
and Damien Miniot reporting.
Our livestock is our livelihood!
They worked this land with their hands,
their tears, their blood...
their sweat.
They're the essence of France.
Victor Hugo sang
of heroes in shadows,
workers of the land.
There's nothing nicer
than farmers' cracked hands.
Earthy hands
which recall our ancestors' land.
I'll show him my cracked hands!
Not even two minutes on the crisis.
Roadblocks are useless.
Let's strike harder.
We'll get the same old subsidy.
What are we, beggars?
Of course not.
Everyone knows we work like mad.
Politicians are the problem.
Screw them!
We're invisible to them.
Maybe we should stop using sulphates.
Mr. Ecologist,
are you with us or not?
- I'm with you.
- Say so.
I am!
Didier is right.
You spend a fortune on sulphates.
Your cow feed comes from Argentina.
And you complain!
Maurice, where were you
this morning?
- With my cattle.
- We all have cattle.
Talk about solidarity.
I'm not on your side.
You're all mistaken.
More debt won't help us.
Don't lecture.
You steal a field and we should listen?
I stole nothing!
Why did my father hang himself?
Tell me why!
Eugene, stop.
We must stick together.
So long.
Maurice...
One solution:
use our tractors to block Paris.
And then we use guns.
You want to end up in jail?
Who cares?
What do I have to lose?
If we go down, the country does.
Relax.
Vandalism won't get us anywhere.
Everyone will hate us!
Should we just shut up?
Not at all. We'll keep fighting.
We need to try something different.
We need to strike their minds.
Did losing the supermarket
strike their minds?
It would have been a big help.
With the local taxes.
You voted against it.
You said it would hurt our shops.
They built it anyway,
one town over.
Serves you right!
Listen next time!
(all yelling in foreign language)
They no longer know
the names of the fountains.
They no longer know
the taste of the water.
They no longer know
the grating of the chain
in the well when the sun is high.
Will our children ever know
how to talk to horses,
how to count stars...
(gentle music)
Yeah, I re-booked us so I think
we're gonna be in at about seven o'clock.
(gentle music)
Vincent!
Vincent Jousselin!
You come back
and don't say hello?
You'll wake everyone up!
I'm the mayor!
I can do as I please!
Here I am...
(Vincent laughs)
Say you're my friend.
I'm your friend, Balbu.
(Balbu sighs)
We fed this country for centuries
and now we're starving.
Can't we show some solidarity?
They're like kids,
fighting... bickering...
Stories as old as Methuselah.
I swear...
You haven't mentioned Betty.
Betty (laughs).
She left me two years ago.
Moved to Alençon with a dentist,
believe it or not.
I understand.
No holiday in ten years.
I'd promised.
So I reserved a hotel in Greece.
Then I cancelled to help
rescue the sawmill.
I saved it from liquidation.
22 jobs.
I saved 22 jobs.
She didn't forgive me.
She could have understood.
I was never around.
Town hall, demonstrations, the farm...
She was right.
Pour me some calvados.
- You're drunk.
- Drunk beats dead.
You're far from dead!
We're at the end of our ropes.
We're over with.
Too bad you quit.
You look like a champ!
You're the champ.
(bell chimes)
(announcer speaking in foreign language)
I need your passport.
I'm gonna check in.
The field, it's the place.
What field, what place?
This is the place where
we're gonna take the picture.
What's going on?
We have a plane to
catch, we're going home.
We're not gonna take that plane.
We gotta go back as quickly
as possible to the field.
What field?
Let's think about it.
Let's go back to New York and then decide.
I gotta take that picture, now.
I'm not staying here any longer.
Listen, we go back,
settle into the village,
take the picture, we'll
be done in two weeks.
You know it's gonna take two months.
You think you can take
the picture in two weeks?
- Sure, sure.
- I'm definitely getting
on that plane.
And your field isn't gonna go anywhere.
We can come back in a month.
In a month everything will have changed.
The light, the trees.
It'll be a different field.
I'm finished.
I'm done.
Well, I'm still here.
(engine rumbling)
The Hanged Wolf.
(brakes squealing)
(tractor engine rumbling)
Don't worry, Eugene.
We won't abandon you.
(Eugene sobbing softly)
Hey.
(machinery whirring)
(birds chirping)
(truck beeping)
(all speaking in foreign language)
I don't believe it.
- It's hunky Vincent!
- It's been ages!
(Vincent chuckles)
- Glad to see you, Aurelie.
- Me too, Vincent.
How's life?
Her wedding is next week!
She didn't wait for you.
I'd have married you
if you'd wanted.
When did I hear from you last?
I sent you messages.
Oh yeah, once. Three years ago.
(all laughing)
What an epistolary exchange!
All you care about are Parisian girls.
They're okay for having fun,
nothing more.
You prefer Normans?
No, or he wouldn't have left.
It's neither Parisians nor Normans.
You like no one.
(all laughing)
You'll come to my wedding, right?
Yes, I'll still be here.
I'm her witness.
Give me your number.
My number?
To tell you where it is.
Okay... I'll give it to you.
- She got his number!
- What a pro.
Bravo, Charlotte.
(all giggling)
(upbeat music)
(Thierry sneezes)
(Thierry panting)
(upbeat music)
You okay, honey?
Mm hm.
What you watching?
A documentary about animal suffering.
- Why watch that?
- It's life, Dad.
You're too young. Shut it off.
(Thierry sneezes)
So much sneezing is weird.
Just a tiny cold.
Your tiny cold started
when we moved here.
Not at all.
So?
(radio anchor speaking
in foreign language)
Listen. Hear that?
Ring road closed. Paris jammed.
50 miles of traffic along the Seine.
What asses...
How can you run the agency
if you never go?
We have the internet, Skype...
Live with the times!
Help me, hon!
Dad pretends he's fine,
that he's unaware.
I know it's psychosomatic.
He'd rather die than admit it.
Shrinks call this "denial".
(Thierry sniffing)
These are real tomatoes.
I want to be a shrink.
I practice on my parents.
It's a lot of work.
I keep telling you:
peelings go in the compost.
- Your compost stinks.
- Not at all.
It's vegetal. It nourishes the earth.
This carrot really tastes like a carrot.
Look.
(engine rumbling)
What is boudin?
It's blood.
Blood?
What do you mean blood?
It's blood, it's blood.
It's pig blood.
(gravel crunching)
(rooster crowing)
(hens clucking)
Hello.
[Balbu] Bonjour.
Bonjour.
[Balbu] Bonjour.
We're the Americans.
My name is Bradley.
This is Mr. Newman.
You called before.
Give me a minute.
What are you doing?
Inseminating the cow.
It gives a baby.
To the cow.
Where's the bull?
There is no bull.
There is no bull?
I'm the bull.
Ah.
(all chuckling)
It's Chollet field.
- It's Chollet field.
- That's its name.
Mr. Newman
is a very famous photographer.
He works all over the world.
And he always shoots everyone naked.
It can be in cities,
at the sea, in forests...
Sometimes 100, 200 people.
Even 500.
Everyone naked.
Oui.
Totally naked.
What for?
His pictures are art.
With hundreds of naked people.
(men chuckling)
Like in nature.
No, it's not nature, no.
Mr. Newman doesn't like nature.
Art is more important than nature.
What brings you to Le Mele sur Sarthe?
- Why here?
- He likes the field.
Oui.
I love Chollet field.
What makes it special?
Mr. Newman
will ask the villagers to pose.
To pose naked?
Oui.
Without clothes.
Naked.
People pose stark naked?
Oui.
Great. Now I've heard it all.
We can't sell our goods,
swamped with taxes,
and you come all smiles
asking us to strip on a field?
Americans!
They took everything from us.
We're stripped bare.
You know what?
Get in your car
and go back to New York.
- Mr. Balbuzard, please.
- Don't insist.
(rain pattering)
(hens clucking)
Good day.
(dog barking)
Can you believe it?
We've already been stripped bare!
It's enough.
That's true.
(gentle music)
I love Americans. I'm a fan.
They freed our village.
I wasn't born,
but my mother was obsessed.
I have a surprise for you.
General Oliver slept here
while the Americans crossed Normandy
to join Leclerc.
The Americans requisitioned the hotel.
And my mother adored them.
I wonder if she had a crush
on the general.
We kept his room intact.
It's never been used since.
Come see below.
I'll sleep here.
You'll like it more downstairs.
We renovated.
You have TV, mini-bar, Wi-Fi...
Here is fine.
Dump manure at the prefecture?
Pour milk on the highway?
Take the manager
of a large chain store hostage?
(all applauding)
Nope.
Hang ourselves.
No, on the contrary.
We get naked on a field.
The whole village.
What the hell?
An American photographer
just got in.
Everyone naked on a field!
You mean naked with underwear?
You don't get it.
Naked means no underwear.
- Is this a joke?
- I'm very serious.
This artist guy has a style:
undressing everyone.
It's cold in the morning. We'll freeze.
Wait till spring.
We won't wait forever.
We act now.
- I won't strip.
- We've already been stripped bare!
You owe the bank 145,000.
You make 1,000 a month.
Nothing is yours.
You work to pay off the interest.
True or false?
True.
And you, Eugene?
You weren't stripped bare?
They just repossessed my tractor.
Next it'll be my land.
Me too. They'll take it all.
He'll undress women too?
Women, men, young, old.
Everyone.
You'll be posing, Lucie?
If you all do it, I may be tempted.
(all exclaiming)
(man whistles)
If you go, I may too.
If we do it,
all of France will see us.
Every station will cover it,
not just local ones.
We'll get national coverage.
Worldwide, even.
Like those Russian girls against Putin.
Femen.
They got sent to prison.
Not us.
Our strength is in numbers.
They want us all naked.
I won't pose nude in a field.
No way...
You go to a nudist colony every summer,
but your butt is sacred.
Sorry, nudism is different.
A communion with nature.
A communion with nature?
What will the Americans do?
Make money off our bodies.
Are you crazy?
What's the difference?
They routed the Germans,
but won't make us strip.
Remember, they bombed our villages.
(all chattering)
To stop the Germans
from going to the front.
Our house got hit.
We lost everything.
Grandpa never got over it.
Enough!
Didn't they save our skins?
- They liberated us!
- But they don't own us.
Who's talking about owning?
It's a great offer.
Something new.
And you talk about 70 years ago.
There's no duty to remember?
Yes, but I live in the present.
The danger is now. We fight now.
Let's give it our all.
For more than a minute of local news.
30 minutes, an hour...
It'll be a tidal wave.
(upbeat music)
(birds chirping)
(pesticides hissing)
Are you crazy?
You're sickos!
Congrats!
Pesticides! And you allow it?
You realise what farmers do to nature?
Kill insects.
No butterflies! Empty beehives!
They pollute and kill.
Nothing's left!
- It's seed time.
- Screw seed time.
We should ban farmers
from farmland.
Want a ride?
- Adam and Eve. Like it?
- A lot.
Rubens...
This one?
I prefer the one before.
- Cranach's version.
- Cranach...
- Eve's not too skinny?
- I like Cranach.
All right.
It's not a beauty contest.
- And this Eve next to this Adam?
- Different eras.
She's 16th century. He's 17th.
Is that a problem?
We're targeting villagers, not artists.
(Thierry sneezes)
Excuse me.
So these two?
I outline him.
I take Eve.
We choose a field.
Do you like this one?
And there we go.
They become small.
You like it?
Now look.
Earthly paradise on Chollet field.
I'll give you the file.
Ah, bonjour.
[Balbu] Bonjour.
Hello, Mayor.
- Coffee?
- I don't have much time.
Newman wants to do
a picture of the village!
- The photographer?
- Yes, not Paul Newman.
I don't believe it.
He's that famous?
- He's a star.
- Big time.
He shows all over.
His prints cost a fortune.
A group nude here?
- I told the villagers.
- And?
Tough road ahead.
Need a 42-year-old Parisian?
You wouldn't mind undressing?
She danced for a choreographer
into on-stage nudity.
You didn't mind?
Not at all.
Mum, you're not going to strip again!
We're all the same.
That's no reason to show it.
You're so uptight.
- She's uptight.
- You're an exhibitionist.
I'm off. Thanks for the file.
My pleasure.
(gentle music)
(engine rumbling)
(keyboard keys clacking)
(upbeat music)
(birds chirping)
(gate clanging)
(cows mooing)
(dog barking)
(upbeat music)
Everyone naked at Chollet Field.
(all speaking in foreign language)
Naked teachers at Chollet field.
(paper rustling)
(gentle music)
Photo April 30th.
Ev yone naked at Chollet field.
(all speaking in foreign language)
(birds chirping)
(pins clattering)
Have you heard?
They chose Chollet field
for thair nude pic.
Yeah. So what?
Mum and I are okay to strip.
- It's a good cause. Why not?
- You don't get it.
They chose Chollet field.
They chose my field!
It's not our field. It's Maurice's.
It's our field!
For the last ten generations!
It was my father's,
my grandfather's,
my great-grandfather's!
It's our field!
Can you prove it's yours?
No.
The deed was lost in the war.
There you go.
Your Chollet field is killing us.
Let it go. It's ancient history.
I work 16 hours a day, 7/7.
I can't even pay for your honeymoon
Now Maurice is renting the field!
Dad, I'll spend honeymoon
here with you.
Eugene!
Look how pretty your daughter is.
(bell tolling)
Hello, Gisele, ladies...
- Your roast.
- Thanks. Have a nice day.
Good timing.
We want to talk to you.
Questions about the photo.
If it helps, I'm glad to come.
It's just embarrassing
to do it with neighbours.
You'd prefer with strangers
from Mortagne or Remalard?
Come now, ma'am.
Strangers are easier.
Seeing it all then shopping together
is weird!
Mrs. Leclerc!
We won't eyeball each other's butts.
We're posing for art.
Why us?
We're not the prettiest people.
Yes we are!
And such pretty butts!
Let's show the world!
Our mayor is a madman!
Yes, but the region's future
depends on it.
Everyone's future does.
Our pretty Gisele will come, won't she?
That's kind of you, but no thanks.
We need our Miss Calvados.
Yesterday's news, as you know.
Mr. Roger, tell your wife to.
I'm against the photo.
Dead-set against.
They're undressing our women now.
What next?
You can pose nude when you're young.
Afterwards...
It's indecent.
You're our finest flower.
You know it. It's true.
(birds chirping)
(Thierry grunting)
You're all knotted in there.
I'm getting bad vibes.
I'm in great shape. I love the country.
I'd say the country doesn't like you.
You'd make a fortune in Paris.
I went once when I was 20.
It's not my thing
Sit up now.
I hear you... That's why I left.
- You have a gift.
- Dad was a diviner.
A designer?
No, a diviner.
Found water deep underground.
Like magic.
So you gave up cattle?
My brother manages fine alone.
I make just as much as him, even more.
What do you think about the photo?
I see everyone naked here.
It's no big deal.
Move it, girls, move it.
[Bradley] Hello, Balbu.
Hello.
So?
Mr. Newman didn't come?
He stayed at the hotel.
Cows terrify him.
I see...
Your boss is a strange guy.
His parents were religious,
from Salt Lake City.
Newman grew up
never seeing anyone naked.
One day, at the age of 22,
he saw 30 naked men
in a locker room.
What a shock.
So he began undressing everyone.
Exactly.
I was a war photographer.
I did Iraq, Afghanistan.
Then I got wounded.
I had to quit.
Newman asked me to work with him.
It's been ten years now.
How's it going with the models?
There's still some resistance.
Isolated cases, stubborn folk.
You'll get the 200 signatures?
200, I can't say.
We have only ten days.
Mentalities have to evolve.
Our villagers
don't feel like stripping down.
They're just not modern.
You're in Normandy.
We don't just strip.
Even when it's 100°,
we wear shirts and pants.
So what do we do?
I'll persuade them one by one
if need be.
Relax. It'll be fine.
In ten days, we'll all be in the field!
(pedestrians chattering)
(engine rumbling)
(woman speaking in foreign language)
You want us all to undress?
Oui.
I'm the photographer.
I'd like some boudin.
We're closed today.
Closed?
Okay.
(gentle music)
(engine rumbling)
FOR SALE
(bicycle ticking)
We're closed.
Sir, we're closed...
I understand but just
one minute, si vous plait?
Kodak is caput, (speaking
in foreign language).
[Vincent] Oui.
I want to buy the pictures.
Those pictures?
Marriages, communions... Really?
Oui, oui.
Are you sure?
Oui.
All right.
Wow, and all these,
They're all for sale?
It's expensive. More than the pictures.
Beautiful thing.
A Polaroid.
600.
Oui.
(Vincent speaking in foreign language)
My father.
Your father was a photographer?
This was his shop.
You're one too?
No, I'm a printer. I mean, I was.
It's like a treasure chest.
(Polaroid whirring)
It should work now.
Let's try.
Excellent!
It's great!
Digital, it's killed all of this.
My dad said digital killed silver film.
Digital killed your father?
No.
Calvados did him in.
This is where my dad took ID pictures.
The whole village, on this chair.
Crazy!
Come work with me.
No, my dad was the photographer,
not me.
Yes, but... you know photography.
I'm leaving though.
In three weeks I'll have sold this place.
What's that?
You pull the latch.
You'll see.
Look at me.
See me?
That is, that's just wonderful (laughs)!
(engine rumbling)
(Balbu sighs)
We all have a wiener.
There's no need to make a big stink.
Ten minutes and it's over.
I don't feel like it.
In the army
I had a hard time showering.
It embarrassed me
when my ex looked at me.
Naked on Chollet field...
Even if it helps the village?
How about you?
You'll show yours?
We're at war.
Showing my dick doesn't faze me.
I don't agree.
I won't go.
I got nothing to hide.
Don't think...
- All the more reason.
- I don't!
Get down now.
Why such anger?
Chollet is my field.
I'll lend it to you for free.
But leave me alone now!
(engine rumbling)
(upbeat music)
(bicycle ticking)
(spray can hissing)
(upbeat music)
(birds chirping)
You can't buy non-local meat.
If you do, you're in for trouble.
Here.
Take this instead.
Product of Normandy.
So why sell non-local stuff?
You really are naive!
They'll sell anything for a profit.
That's why we can't get by.
You're... a real militant.
Not really.
I've taken on the right reflexes.
- So this one's good.
- Yes.
Thanks.
We've met, you know.
No, I'd have remembered.
Bike race in Mamers, 4 years ago.
We won. We cheered you on.
Big celebration.
No one understood why you left.
Talented cyclist. You had grace.
No.
I had no grace.
My dad had it for me.
Cycling was his dream, not mine.
You don't remember?
I gave you the bouquet.
No way.
Yes way.
So you kissed me on the podium?
No, I didn't kiss boys back then.
And now?
Now?
(bell tolling)
(shade whirring)
(birds chirping)
Take it off, Gisele!
(weed wacker whirring)
What are they paying you?
I'm not renting the field.
I'm landing it.
They offered 5,000. Take it.
Take it yourself.
The Americans can't use it.
It's my field.
Can't we move on?
It's not our problem.
It's over, ancient history.
Ancient for you, Maurice.
I remember taking down my dad.
You ever untie a hanged man?
He didn't hang himself
over the field.
You know it.
He couldn't get by any more.
The field would have saved him.
I reclaim it!
Your rifle?
Want to shoot?
My girl is getting married.
I won't screw up today.
But never set foot here again.
- Hi, Gisele.
- Mr. Balbuzard...
Hello, Roger...
(freezer humming)
Graffiti on my window.
Three times this week.
What does it say?
It says... "Take it off, Gisele".
"Take it off, Gisele"?
That's why you called?
Come on, it's not funny.
Any idea who could have done it?
Sometimes I think it's Leclerc,
since I stopped buying from him.
Or maybe Bezon's son,
the apprentice I fired.
Or else Lefranc.
He owes me 2,000 Euros I lent him.
He isn't the sneaky type.
I thought I only had friends, but now...
Know what we'll do?
Put a camera across the street.
We'll see him
if he strikes again.
All right?
Huh?
Merci.
Can we leave?
I'm freezing my ass off.
It's my lower back.
You have to tighten it.
- Can I remove it at night?
- Sure.
Balbuzard, I'm glad to see you.
Hello, Mr. Ferol.
You weren't elected
to undress the village.
I'll alert the Prefecture,
even the Senate.
- Calm down.
- I don't want to!
Saving the village is a pretext
for mass humiliation.
Shame on you!
You know what?
Take a tranquilliser.
That's your reaction?
I'm warning you. I'll fight.
Mr Ferol, did you go to catechism?
Yes, I'm a devout Catholic.
You remember Genesis.
Chapter 2: "Man and woman were naked
yet felt no shame."
(engine rumbling)
(shade whirring)
(Gisele humming)
(shower water splashing)
What is it, honey?
Nothing.
Something's bothering you.
No, no.
You promise...
you won't pose nude?
I told you I have no desire to.
Stop asking now.
All right?
I promise.
Only you can look at me naked.
(gentle music)
(owl hooting)
(pencil scratching)
Look what I found in the room.
(patrons chattering)
All these young lives sacrificed
so that we could be free.
Hm.
Some never saw their 18th birthday.
Yeah.
The geometry is...
Geometry?
That's how I wanna organize
the picture in the Chollet.
Look.
200 pickets for the models
to stand in front of.
Then, we can have abstract bodies
just as far as the eye
can see like the crosses.
(door slams)
(wind whistling)
Here it is, the field.
My field, the Chollet.
Thank you.
(wind whistling)
Who is this guy?
I have no idea.
Bonjour!
- Who are you?
- The owner of this field.
It belongs to you?
I really love this field.
Chollet, huh?
I'm very happy
to take a photograph here.
With the models.
I'll put the models
here...
all around here, everywhere.
Naked women and men.
It's gonna be great.
Impossible.
Not possible?
Leave now.
Explain to him, Bradley.
(Bradley exhales)
We're taking...
a picture in five days.
Pretty picture.
Photo artist.
(shot firing)
- Oh my God!
- Good Christ!
Are you fuckin' crazy!
(shot firing)
Oh my God!
Oh my God!
Oh my God!
(engine rumbling)
(hens clucking)
We all need that picture
and you shoot at the Americans!
Screw the photo
and the Americans!
We'll pay you to let us take it.
- I want my field.
- You'll stop it all.
We can finally be heard.
I want my field back.
No one knows whose it is anymore!
Check the land registry.
It was bombed during the war!
Step foot on my field
and I'll shoot.
This is how you behave?
Don't ask me to negotiate
your loans.
You can die on your field.
Fine.
- What?
- Nothing!
(engine rumbling)
(birds chirping)
(door slams)
Isn't it nice here?
You can do whatever you want.
You can put 500 naked Normans here!
No one will come bother you.
I want Chollet field.
Pain in the ass.
What makes Chollet field better?
It's small, ugly.
Nothing to write home about.
Look at this field. Look at it!
Cows.
That oak tree. Isn't is pretty?
Come on!
He wants Chollet field.
Forget Chollet field.
It's history.
That lunatic will kill us
if we set foot there.
Why?
There is a problem of... "division"
over the field.
What does that mean, "division"?
It's France.
You go to war for 100 years
and forget why.
So what do we do?
Do the photo at the Prefecture.
In front.
300 farmers stripped bare.
Talk about impact!
The Prefecture...
I prefer Chollet field.
(door slams)
(engine rumbling)
(keys jingling)
(shop bell chimes)
Still here? You didn't leave?
We sign in two weeks.
You don't even call.
My kiss had no effect on you?
Sure it did.
Curb your enthusiasm!
Can I have a drink?
A drink?
Um... yes.
You're a bit out of it.
What are you up to?
Packing up old cameras.
That American guy came
and bought half the shop.
Cool.
I came here as a kid.
Really?
Mum brought me for my communion.
I was very religious then.
I came with my white alb
and a veil.
Clutching onto a rosary.
Your dad was nice.
Told stories during the session.
The photo may still be here.
Mm hm.
Can you look?
It'll take hours.
Come on, please.
(Vincent sighs)
Portraits.
(wrapping rustling)
(gentle music)
(Vincent chuckles)
So?
How would I do at Chollet field?
Let me fix something.
Snow scape.
It's cold out.
(Vincent speaking in foreign language)
(Charlotte chuckles)
Vincent?
No kiss?
(gentle music)
For weeks
Volker was supposed to visit.
In the end, he came by helicopter.
Volker is Dad's best friend
and former partner.
He and Dad founded the agency.
But a start-up made Volker rich.
Dad's in denial
about his psoriasis, eczema
and asthma.
He hasn't been spared one allergy.
Volker wants to take Dad back,
but stands no chance.
Take off your glasses.
Why?
Take them off!
If you insist...
Have you seen yourself?
It's just hay fever.
It'll be gone soon.
Come with me to Paris.
See a specialist,
then come back.
I have everything here.
I see a healer.
Her father was a diviner.
How about the agency?
They need you.
Put them back on track.
I'm done with it.
We have our veggies here, squash,
tomatoes, Valerie's bread.
We're autonomous.
What's got into you?
I've changed.
Can't you understand change?
Deviating from the dumb blueprint?
Don't be aggressive.
I'm not, but you know one blueprint:
your own.
I've moved on.
Volker left empty-handed.
I tried to hitch a ride
but he said no.
He said I belonged with Dad
and that he'd get better.
(birds chirping)
(crickets chirping)
(food sizzling)
Balbu?
- Anyone home?
- Come in.
This is Charlotte.
She works at the milk factory.
I know you. Blamand's daughter.
Exactly.
Dad wasn't upset
you left the farm?
No, well a little.
We're resuming contact.
Her dad is stubborn as hell.
Tell me, Vincent.
Isn't it us two?
Charlotte and I had plans to go out.
Then you invited me to dinner, so...
So what?
So I...
I figured...
All three of us could eat.
Good thinking!
(all laughing)
Gotcha!
I broke into a cold sweat!
Some white wine?
(gentle music)
Look what I found
while I was cleaning up.
There are hundreds.
That's me when I was four.
- Recognise me?
- Cutie.
The silo they knocked down 5 years ago.
- Remember?
- The former mayor.
Look at this.
Gisele.
Miss Calvados.
- Pretty!
- Gorgeous.
He took all these pictures in secret.
How are things
with the American?
It's blocked every which way
I'd love to see
naked Normans in Chollet field.
Me too.
Let's listen to the news.
Twice more than average.
In the cows' muscles is iron.
When sausages are made,
nitrites are added,
a sort of salt mixed in with spices,
used to conserve food longer.
A report from the WHO confirms
beyond any doubt
that red meat is carcinogenic.
Red meat and sausages
have been targeted before.
But it's the first time
the WHO has issued a damning report.
Eating meat can lead to diabetes
obesity and heart disease.
Livestock is not only a health risk.
Livestock accounts for 18%
of greenhouse gases in the world.
More than transportation!
Livestock is thus a decisive cause
of global warming.
This catastrophe
should be avoided
by reducing our intake of meat.
Damn... they really want to kill us.
(upbeat music)
(rooster crowing)
(engine rumbling)
(doors slamming)
(all speaking in foreign language)
After the news last night,
we have to go.
Yes, let's do it!
(upbeat music)
(crickets chirping)
Merci.
(upbeat music)
(crickets chirping)
(cows mooing)
Nothing to hide.
Madame, you can't go to Chollet field.
Why?
Having fun isn't just for kids.
I want to be in the picture.
A woman your age...
I'm firm.
I wash every day with cold water.
Merci, au revoir.
Goodbye, Madame de Quincy.
Hello, Roger. How are you today?
I haven't slept a wink in over a week.
I'll give you Imovane.
You'll sleep like a baby.
The picture is keeping you up.
- How do you know?
- No one can sleep.
Reduced to parading about obscenely...
I wrote to the Prefecture.
No answer.
They'll take their picture.
Oui, oui.
My wife is going.
At the same time... Gisele is so pretty.
All the local men will ogle her.
Those bastards.
We mustn't judge.
Bastards.
Come on, Roger.
Everything will be fine.
People will come and feast their eyes.
A week later, it'll be forgotten.
Bastards.
(gentle music)
(keyboard keys clacking)
Take it off, Gisele!
(bell ringing)
(kids chattering)
You can get in trouble.
Vandalism, sexist language, libel.
I don't care. I'm a minor.
Minors can have police records.
Roger was freaking out.
He thought he had dangerous enemies.
Serves him right.
In ten years, there'll be no meat,
farmers or butchers.
Life will be better.
I'm floored.
Who tells you such nonsense?
Your poor parents!
I don't care what they say.
I want out of here.
I prefer Paris.
Buckle up.
(engine rumbling)
Apologise to Mr. Roger now!
Never!
He's a murderer of innocent cows!
You're crazy!
Chloé spray-painted the butchery.
She's in trouble.
We'll sort it out.
No real trouble.
- But why?
- Butchers are scum!
Have you seen slaughterhouses?
They kill and torture
defenceless animals!
Mr. Roger did nothing to you.
You trapped me into coming here.
I had no say.
I was happy in Paris.
I don't care. It won't last.
Know why?
Save it for later.
With global warming,
Normandy will become a desert.
The heat will kill everything.
No more rain.
95° in the shade.
Yellow fields and cracked earth.
No more grass.
Cows, dying from thirst.
Skin and bones!
(eerie music)
(cow mooing)
(vultures cawing)
(eerie music)
(thunder rumbling)
(rain pattering)
(door slams)
(rain pattering)
(door latches)
Are you okay, Dad? You look weird.
I dreamt Normandy was a desert.
End of the world.
(Aurelie laughs)
Dad, my wedding doesn't mean
the world is ending.
(rain pattering)
Okay and these angles, over there.
Okay, you understand?
(upbeat music)
(mallet thudding)
(Mr. Newman chuckles)
(Bradley chuckles)
It worked.
(upbeat music)
It's the Americans.
It's my daughter's wedding.
Join us.
Everyone, inside.
(all speaking in foreign language)
(all applauding)
Sit down...
We need to enlarge this room.
(all laughing)
Want a speech?
Good timing. I prepared one.
Aurelie, I knew you this small.
(all laughing)
Jimmy, you chose each other
because you're in love.
Congratulations.
In our world, let's be frank,
where the strong trample the weak,
a world which negates us,
stomps on us...
marriage is a bet on the future,
as we know.
But the future...
are we sure we have one?
As long as Romanian and German beef
invade our market, we have no future.
Take a look at export figures
since Russia shut its borders.
The Chinese market plummeted too.
It's a wedding,
not a political rally.
Dad!
You're right.
Your dad is right.
Today is about your love.
Yours for Jimmy, and his for you.
You managed
to find a way out of the despair.
We have one hope.
Thanks our American friends.
(audience applauding)
Stand up.
(audience applauding)
You've shown support for the photo.
Even if some of you have doubts.
"Shoul I do the picture or not?"
I'm summoning you:
Come for us.
All our lives are at stake.
I'm in.
You'll come to the field?
I'll strip off my wedding dress...
on the double!
Great!
Me too!
Everyone keeps asking
if I'll be posing...
All right, Balbu. I'll do it.
(audience applauding)
Excellent!
Miss Calvados is among us!
Our prettiest flower.
So...
now come have a drink.
You didn't marry us.
(all laughing)
(Balbu speaking in foreign language)
Those people buying the shop...
They want to move in fast.
I agreed to next month.
That's great!
Why tell me?
To be honest with you.
Because we're sleeping together?
No, no, no, no, no.
- Not at all.
- Scared I'll get high hopes?
No.
Think I'll beg you to stay,
if I fall in love?
I never said that!
Don't worry, it won't happen.
Live your life.
I don't care if you stay or go.
So long.
(solemn music)
(dog barking)
(keys jingling)
What got into you?
What got into you?
Huh, Gisele?
You decided to be in the picture?
(brush thuds)
(Gisele sighs)
You promised me.
Remember? You said...
Shut up, Roger. That's enough.
Stop talking.
(birds chirping)
Hello, Josy.
- Is that blood pudding?
- Mr. Newman's.
He has it for breakfast?
Ah, Josy.
Your blood pudding.
Ah, I see.
Good morning, sir.
Hi, hi.
- Bradley.
- Hello, Balbu.
So today's the day.
The big day.
In two hours,
we'll see the village naked.
- We're counting on you.
- It'll be nice.
Taste it.
Best blood pudding in the region.
What are you waiting for, Newman?
It's delicious.
Roger! Perfect timing!
Mr. Newman is tasting
your blood pudding.
Finally!
You okay? You look odd.
Mr. Newman?
Don't take the picture.
What's got into you, Roger?
Mr. Newman?
Don't take it.
Some other time.
Everyone's waiting.
Mr. Newman?
Don't take the picture.
Give me the knife.
Mr. Newman?
Give it to me.
Roger, please. Calm down.
(knife clinks)
(Bradley groaning)
Stop this.
Don't screw up!
Stop it.
Mr. Newman?
Don't take...
Drop the knife! Drop it!
(knife clinks)
(Balbu grunts)
(dishes clattering)
Mr. Newman?
Don't take the picture.
My wife will be posing.
Stark naked.
Her name is Gisele.
Okay?
You mustn't take it.
Roger, calm down!
(knife clattering)
(elbow thuds)
(Roger grunts)
(dishes clattering)
Sit down.
We've gotta get outta here.
These people are crazy.
- You're going?
- It's over.
Don't go!
We are so close, Newman.
They're all out there waiting for us.
We can do this.
Huh?
It's Vincent.
I don't get it. There's no one.
Call me back.
What's going on, Vincent?
Where's everyone?
They're coming!
(all speaking in foreign language)
(engine rumbling)
(birds chirping)
Where the hell are the models?
- What happened?
- Roger went wild.
- What's going on?
- I called everyone.
Everyone has an emergency.
Creamery,
milking...
They say they'll come later.
We need them now!
Where are all the Normans?
I have no idea.
We've been waiting for you!
We're going to do it. Don't worry.
(all speaking in foreign language)
Hey, Balbu?
What the hell is goin' on?
Where are the Normans?
I don't know what's going on.
You're 'playing us for fools.
You lied to us.
No one showed up!
No one!
They're coming. They promised.
Too late now.
The light is gone.
Gotta go.
- We're leaving.
- Wait. We'll do it tomorrow!
I'll tell everyone to come.
Don't go!
We'll see you another time.
Sorry.
You can't leave with just a sorry!
What will happen to our farmers?
It's not our problem anymore.
They'll come. They promised.
Good luck, Balbu.
I'll be frank.
I've had enough of Normandy.
I'll call them.
They'll be here tomorrow.
You have my word.
Your word?
(engine rumbling)
Wait.
Wait!
Coming?
Here we are!
(solemn music)
Never got to taste the boudin.
(dramatic orchestral music)
(fire crackling)
(Balbu groaning)
(dramatic orchestral music)
(gentle music)
(fire crackling)
It's over now.
The picture will never be taken.
In fact the picture made life here
more exciting.
Some people were fer,
some were against.
There was lively discussion.
Not any more.
The villagers will never be nude.
They're orphans.
Stone slabs to the fallen dead.
Only Ferol, the pharmacist, is happy.
Roger was locked up for a day
but Balbuzard dropped charges.
They let him go.
Life go on, but things aren't rosy.
(gentle music)
Bonjour.
How are you?
Well?
All good?
Haven't seen Balbu in three days.
I left ten messages. No answer.
Something wrong?
Yes, you let him down.
That's what's wrong.
How disappointing.
Bezon, Didier, Lefranc, everyone!
I figured everyone went.
Michelle and I thought we'd come late.
Me too.
We figured wrong, that's all.
- Should we go see him?
- Why?
To say we'll do it.
To get the Americans back.
The Americans left.
They won't be back, okay?
Maybe we can get Balbuzard
to call them.
You'll get your asses shot off.
You can trust me on that.
Can you go for us? Seriously...
(dog barking)
(cows mooing)
Balbu?
Go away. I won't see anyone.
- You're in pyjamas?
- Know what? Betty.
If I'd quit, she'd be here.
I sacrificed everything for ingrates!
They'll thank you some day.
The supermarket tried to bribe me!
20,000!
I refused it, like an ass! Why?
You did the right thing.
People say I got a commission.
Me, on the supermarket!
Balbu, just...
- Beat it.
- Come back.
No, no, no.
Leave me alone.
Aren't you leaving soon?
Get lost.
Beat it!
(rain pattering)
(log clattering)
What's wrong? We don't need wood.
Could be a cold spell.
No surprise
you didn't go for the picture.
I'll do the picture.
I've got nothing to hide.
What this?
Land registry.
How long has this been going on?
I don't know.
Generations.
- Dad said to keep quiet?
- Yes.
Before him, Grandpa.
And our great-grandfather.
And so on.
From father to son.
We passed the secret on.
So Eugene was right.
Tomorrow...
I'll go to a public notary.
Give it to Eugene yourself.
He'll gloat.
He gets his field.
You don't get it.
He doesn't care about that.
He wants you to give him the deed.
(upbeat music)
(engine rumbling)
(birds chirping)
(sheep bleating)
Get out of here.
You want a drink?
You bet I do.
(cows mooing)
(pensive music)
(dramatic music)
(engine rumbling)
(all speaking in foreign language)
Get chairs and glasses.
- Is that yours?
- Yes, pour it.
You have a still?
Sure, not you?
Of course do!
Home-distilled calvados is best!
(brakes squealing)
(all speaking in foreign language)
Hey, Balbu!
- We buried the hatchet.
- We're pals!
We're celebrating. Come join us.
[Eugene] Oh, Balbu!
(all speaking in foreign language)
(dramatic music)
(goats bleating)
When did you stop talking?
World War One!
- Why is he in the barn?
- I'm no cop!
A goat-whsiperer?
Don't laugh. Goats have feelings.
I speak to mine.
(pensive music)
(goats bleating)
Why is he in pyjamas?
Pyjamas?
Yeah, pyjamas.
What are you doing?
Stop!
This is Hanged Wolf house.
I'll hang.
Get down!
No!
I won't budge.
You don't hang yourself
at someone else's house!
Yeah, go home and do it.
I'll hang myself here if I want!
To think you weren't even able
to take that damned picture.
It was too much to ask.
Cow trouble, goat trouble.
Busy at the vet or repairing a tractor.
Every single one of you,
every single one
cared only about himself.
Everyone!
I gave it my all.
My wife left, but I kept on.
She'd have left anyway.
She couldn't stand you for years.
Not only
are you stupid,
but you're heartless.
No team spirit, no solidarity.
You squabble over a piece of field,
while farming all over is dying.
That's why we're dying.
It's not the quotas.
You didn't come
because you're ashamed.
You wallow in shame,
with your little secrets,
your dirty little dealings.
Enough already!
You're in no place to lecture us.
You deserve to hang
for the supermarket.
What about the supermarket?
It's your fault
they went to another town.
Cut the god-damn crap
with the supermarket!
You stupid imbeciles refused it!
Everyone knows you got bribed.
Me? I got bribed?
It was fishy.
(all yelling)
Fast!
(all groaning)
You okay?
(all laughing)
That's the last time!
(truck beeping)
(all speaking in foreign language)
I've made up my mind.
I'm not selling.
And?
Why should she care?
I'm not talking to you.
I want to stay with you.
Oh yeah?
And I don't have my say?
Guys come to a decision alone
and girls clap?
Remember...
your communion photo.
I found it.
(gentle music)
Girls, cerne and see.
My dad took this,
of the factory workers.
- Where are you?
- Behind Jocelyne.
Caroline.
She once told Mr. Gilbert off!
Who was Mr. Gilbert?
Personnel director, a real ass-hole.
(girls laughing)
(gentle music)
(engine rumbling)
(birds chirping)
(brakes squealing)
You better have a good
reason for waking me.
To see the light on Collet field.
At six in the morning?
I see why Newman wanted
in the morning.
The sun comes from the east.
So?
Newman wanted us lit face on.
I think it's better from the west.
To be back-lit.
It's softer on the face.
- So what?
- Still don't get it?
No.
I'll take the picture.
(Vincent sighs)
(upbeat music)
CLOSED EXCEPTIONALLY
(door whirring)
(birds chirping)
Take it off, Ferol.
Dad.
Stop pretending you're happy here.
I am, honey. I love it.
Tell me.
Say you hate the countryside.
Say you're fed up.
You tried. It didn't work.
There's no shame in it.
We'd love it if you'd stop faking it.
Want us to go back to Paris?
Go to a café, sit outside.
"The Reinitas". Rue Lafayette.
There's nothing green on Lafayette.
You're right. No trees or gardens.
Just asphalt.
Something's always going on.
Traffic jams, smell of gas,
all the cars.
Honking. Noise everywhere.
I love it.
(horn honking)
(all chattering)
- It's warm.
- There's frost!
- We'll find our clothes?
- I don't want Pechon's!
What's wrong?
Do they smell like cow shit?
Mind if we stand side by side?
No, on the contrary.
Nothing to hide any more.
Look who it is!
How's it going, Vincent?
- Hey, girls!
- Little kiss?
So you're gonna undress us?
(helicopter engine whirring)
You play it pretty straight.
(horn honking)
(all cheering)
(audience applauding)
Hello, friends!
You're here?
You kept saying you were against!
With Vincent,
it's no longer American imperialism.
We're among friends.
How are you?
I wanted to thank you.
For not pressing charges.
I don't know what got into me.
I know.
Tell him what you told me.
Okay well...
I'm okay with it.
Okay with what?
Okay, with Gisele...
Gisele what?
I'm okay with her doing the picture.
I thought with the meat crisis
and everything...
Germany, Romania...
We have to do it.
Gisele too?
Yes, Gisele too.
Fully naked?
Great news!
Roger is aboard.
Gisele can pose naked!
(all cheering)
(audience applauding)
(helicopter engine whirring)
(upbeat music)
Shall we go?
Let me check for clouds.
He's checking.
- Can we keep our boots?
- Keep your boots.
- Why keep them?
- Cow dung.
- No dung on Chollet field.
- He vacuumed.
(all laughing)
We can go.
What about it, friends?
On the count of three.
(all cheering)
(audience applauding)
(all counting in foreign language)
(upbeat music)
Wait!
It's my daughter. It's Chloé.
Look, it's Mum.
One,
two,
three!
(all cheering)
(shutter clicks)
(gentle music)
(birds chirping)
(upbeat music)
NORMANDY NUDE
(dramatic orchestral music)
(gentle music)
(upbeat music)