Pierrot le Fou (1965) Movie Script

''Past the age of 50, Velázquez

stopped painting definite things.

He glided round objects

with the air, with the dusk.

He elicited quivering colours from the

shadowy transparency of the background

and made them the invisible centre

of his silent symphony.

He gleaned from the world

only those mysterious exchanges

which allow shapes and sounds

to intermingle

in a secret and continuous progression

that no collision, no involuntary

movement can halt or betray.

Space reigns.

it is like an airy wave

gliding over surfaces,

absorbing their visible emanations

to define and model them.

It carries them along like a scent,

like an echo,

and scatters them everywhere

like some imponderable dust.

The world he lived in was sad.

The king was a degenerate,

his children were sickly,

and he was surrounded by idiots,

dwarves and invalids.

There were ugly clowns,

dressed like princes,

whose purpose was

to make fun of themselves

to amuse people living outside reality,

who were constrained by etiquette,

who plotted and lied,

who were bound

by the confessional and by remorse,

with the inquisition and silence

at the door.''

Listen to this, little girl.

''There is a sense of nostalgia,

but he avoids what is ugly,

sad or cruelly morbid

about this oppressed childhood.

Velázquez is the painter of the night,

of vast expanses and of silence,

even when he paints by day,

even when he paints inside a room,

even when the sounds of war,

or of the hunt, are all around him.

As they didn't go out during the day,

when the sun obliterates everything,

Spanish painters

communed with twilight.''

- Isn’t that beautiful?

- You're mad to read such things to them.

Go on, go to bed.

- Why hasn't Odile put them to bed yet?

- Because you allowed her

to go to the cinema

for the third time this week.

To go to the cinema for the third time.

They're showing Johnny Guitar.

It's an education for her.

- This world is too full of fools.

- Come on, hurry.

- Frank and Paola will be here soon.

- I’m not going.

- I’ll stay with the children.

- Don't do that.

Frank is bringing his niece.

She'll look after them until we get back.

She's a student. She always does this.

Since when does he have a niece?

She must be a call girl.

- I’m not going.

- You'll do as you're told.

The head of Standard Oil will be there,

and Daddy will introduce you.

I should sue the TV station

for firing me.

Oh, no, you won't.

You'd lose the court case.

And when they offer you a job,

please accept it.

Come, that's enough.

- Aren't you wearing a slip?

- I’m wearing an invisible girdle.

''Under my new trousers, Scandal,

for a youthful figure.''

We've had Athenian civilisation,

we've had the Renaissance,

and now our civilisation

centers round the arse.

- Follow me, I’ll show you round.

- She loves children.

lf there's a problem,

you can call us on...

225-7001.

- This is Frank's niece.

- Yes?

Good evening.

Hi.

225. Haven't you read Balzac?

How about César Birotteau

and the 5th Symphony

resounding in his head?

- What's up with you?

- Come on, let's go.

Chapter two.. a surprise party

given by Mr. and Mrs. Expresso,

whose daughter is my wife.

An Alfa Romeo has great acceleration,

powerful disc brakes,

holds the road perfectly

and is an exceptional touring car.

It is safe, fast, pleasant to drive,

responsive and stable.

It’s easy to look fresh. Soap cleanses,

cologne refreshes and scent perfumes.

And to avoid perspiration, I use Printil,

and feel fresh for the rest of the day.

Printil is available as a stick

deodorant, a roll-on or a spray.

But the Oldsmobile Rocket 88

is even better.

Look at its rigorous design.

It’s powerful, sober lines

show that elegance and

exceptional performance can be combined.

You look lonely.

He's American.

He doesn't speak French.

What's his name? What does he do?

He's Samuel Fuller.

He's an American film director.

- He's making Les Fleurs du Mal.

- Baudelaire, that's good.

I’ve always wanted to know

what cinema is, exactly.

Films are like battlegrounds.

Love.

Hate.

Action.

Violence.

And death.

In one word, emotions.

My hairdo has stayed in place

all day thanks to Elnett Satin.

And I can brush the hairspray off

just as easily as I sprayed it on.

My hair is like golden silk.

It’s shiny and clean.

Women should renounce flimsy negligees

and romantic nightgowns.

In daylight, lingerie loses its charm

and can look indecent.

Trlstesse d'Olymplo.

- Give me the keys to the car.

- Aren't you staying?

No, I’m tired.

I have a seeing system, called ''eyes''.

I use my ears to hear

and my mouth to speak.

I feel as if these systems

were separate. There's no unity.

We should all feel unique,

but I feel as if I were many people.

You speak too much.

- Having to listen to you is tiresome.

- I do speak too much.

Lonely men always speak too much.

I’ll wait for you at home.

Next chapter..

despair, memory, freedom,

bitterness, hope,

a search for times past.

Marianne Renoir.

You're still here?

Sorry.

The tube is shut.

How will you get back?

I don't know.

- Are you alone?

- Yes, I got bored, so I came back.

Are you all right? You seem down.

There are days when

you only seem to come across morons.

It leads you to look in the mirror

and question yourself.

I’ll drive you home.

- He lent you his car?

- Yes.

- Why? Don't you like Americans?

- No, I do.

- It feels strange to see you again.

- Yes, it's been four years.

It’s been five-and-a-half years.

It was October.

You've married.

I met a rich Italian,

but I’m not that interested in her.

- Why don't you divorce her?

- I felt like it, but I’m too lazy.

You have to feel alive to want anything,

have you noticed that?

- Do you still teach Spanish?

- No, I worked in TV, but I resigned.

- How about you?

- Nothing special.

- You don't want to talk about yourself?

- No.

A friend of mine

saw you in London two years ago.

- Are you still seeing that American?

- That was over a long time ago.

How long have you known Frank?

- l... just met him by chance.

- You're as mysterious as ever.

It’s just that I don't like

to talk about myself.

All right, then I’ll keep quiet.

His garrison had already been decimated

by the Vietcong, who also lost 115 men.

It’s awful, so impersonal.

- What is?

- They speak of 115 resistance fighters,

and it means nothing.

And yet, each one of them is a man,

and we know nothing about them

if they love a woman, have children,

prefer the cinema to the theatre.

We know nothing about them.

All we can say is: 115 dead.

It’s the same with photographs.

It’s always fascinated me.

You see the man, frozen in time,

with a caption underneath.

He was either a coward or a hero.

But at the time the picture was taken,

no one can say who he really was,

or who he was thinking about.

His wife? His mistress?

The past? The future? About basketball?

We'll never know.

That's life.

What upsets me is that life

is so different from novels.

I wish they were the same.

Clear, logical, organised.

But they aren't.

They're more similar than people think.

No, they're not, Pierrot.

Must I remind you to call me Ferdinand?

But one can't say:

''My friend, Ferdinand.''

Yes, you can. Just try it, Marianne.

I’ll try.

I’ll do anything you want.

So will I, Marianne.

I’m putting my hand on your knee.

Me too, Marianne.

I’m kissing you everywhere.

Me too, Marianne.

We'll see.

Marianne Renoir.

Come on, wake up!

- I was right.

- About what?

You didn't believe me when I said

we'd always love each other.

I’ve never said I’d love you forever.

Oh, my love

You never promised to adore me at all

We've never exchanged such vows

Though we know each other so well

We'd never have believed

we'd forever be slaves to love

As we're both so fickle

And yet, without having to say a word,

little by little

Feelings slipped between our bodies,

which so loved to merge

And then words of love fell

from our naked lips, little by little

Many words of love mingled

with our kisses

I never would have believed

I would always love you

My love

We never thought we could live together

without tiring of each other

Or that we'd wake up every morning

so happy to be in the same bed

Or wish for no more than the simple

joy of being so comfortable together

And yet, without either of us

saying much, little by little

Our feelings

have bound us together forever

Feelings which were stronger

than any known or unknown words of love

Feelings which were more passionate

than either of us could have anticipated

Don't ever promise to adore me forever

Let us not exchange such promises,

given the way we both are

Let us pretend that our love

is a love without a future

We'll know by the time we're dead

if we carried on loving each other.

I know that I love you.

It’s you I’m not so sure about.

- I’m not sure.

- I do love you, Marianne. I do.

Well, we'll see.

- Your wife came round this morning.

- Who cares?

- That's not all.

- I just told you I don't care.

Marianne told Ferdinand

a complicated story.

- I met some people...

- It was like the Algerian war.

- I’ll explain everything.

- It was like waking from a bad dream.

- Frank had your keys?

- I’ll explain.

Were you in love with him?

Did he ever kiss you?

I’ll explain everything.

- It was a complicated story.

- To wake from a bad dream.

- Politics.

-An organisation.

Arms traffic.

Silently, silently.

Silently.

- It’s me, Marianne.

- Did he kiss you?

-A complicated story.

- Were you in love with him?

- Used my apartment.

- It was like the Algerian war.

- I have a brother.

- To wake from a bad dream.

We had to leave quickly.

- To knock out. Garage.

- Who is he?

To go south. No money.

It was high time

we left this rotten world.

- We left Paris by a unique route.

- Recognising two of her own,

the Statue of Liberty greeted us warmly.

Sir!

- Put a tiger in my engine.

- We don't sell tigers here.

Then fill her up and keep quiet.

He'll be less suspicious if it's me.

That'll be 4,900.

Check the water and the oil, my man.

Help me, you fool.

- Shit, there's another one.

- Get in the car.

- Don't you have any money?

- No, sir, we don't.

Don't you want to work to earn money?

- No, sir, we don't.

- So how will you pay for the petrol?

Shit, there's another one. Stay there.

I’ll call the police!

- Total.

- It was an adventure film.

-A diadem of blood.

- Total.

- Tender is the Night.

-A romantic novel.

- Tender is the Night.

We'll find my brother eventually.

- What does he deal in, exactly?

- Stuff in Africa.

In Angola, in the Congo.

I thought he worked for

Télé Monte Carlo.

Yes, that too.

So, where are we going?

We said we'd go to Nice.

And then, maybe, on to Italy.

12,000 francs won't last us to Nice.

We'd better abandon this car.

- Have you ever killed a man, Pierrot?

- My name is Ferdinand.

Why do you ask?

Because you won't like it.

I wonder what she told the police.

- Maybe they've not questioned her yet.

- Don't you believe it.

She must have really slammed you.

She's quite right. I’m sorry for her.

Sorry? Men like you are always sorry.

And always too late.

- What are you doing?

- I’m looking at myself.

And what do you see?

The face of a man who's going to

throw himself off a cliff at high speed.

I see a woman who is in love with the

man who'll throw himself off a cliff.

So let's kiss.

- The following day.

- We got back into the car.

-And arrived in a llttle town.

- We're almost out of petrol.

Marianne and Ferdinand stop at a bar.

They order something

and wonder how they'll pay for lt.

- The police are after them.

- They're getting odd looks from people.

- The police...

- People...

- They're getting odd looks from people.

- There's...

Laszlo Kovacs, student.

Born on the 25th January 1936,

in Santo Domingo.

I left after the American landing.

I came to France as a political refugee.

France is the country of freedom,

equality and brotherhood.

Viviane Blassel, born on

the 21st March 1943 in Marseille.

I’m 22. I work at the cosmetics counter

in a department store in Auxerre.

Eté André, born on the 25th May 1903

in Marbouie, Eure-et-Loir.

62 years old.

Currently acting as a film extra.

Let's tell stories,

maybe they'll take pity on us.

- What shall we tell them?

-About the fall of Constantinople,

about Nicolas de Staël's suicide.

About Wiillam Wilson,

who saw his double in the street

and went after him to kill him.

And once he had,

he realised he'd killed himself

and his double was still alive.

OK, they might even give us some money.

Marianne, who had the eyes

of Aucassin and Nicolette,

told them about William of Orange's

nephew, Vivien,

who died fighting 30,000 Saracens.

He bled from 1,000 wounds and he fought

alone, for he'd sworn not to retreat.

Oh, young and gentle nephew,

why such a mad and noble oath?

Ferdinand told them

the story of Guynemer,

but they didn’t listen to him,

so he spoke of the summer,

and of how lovers crave

the warm night air.

He spoke of man, and the seasons,

and unexpected encounters.

But he told them never to ask

which came first,

words or things,

nor to ask what will happen next.

I feel alive, that's all that matters.

I have an idea.

We'll pretend we've had an accident.

That way, the police will think

we're dead. OK, Pierrot?

My name is Ferdinand.

All we have to do is burn the car.

They'll think we've burned too.

- Always fire, blood and war!

- It wasn't my idea!

Bring the car closer.

It has to look real. This isn't a film.

Come closer. Hurry up!

- I don't have any matches. Let's go.

- It doesn't matter. Give me the rifle.

- It’s the make that killed Kennedy.

- Didn't you know I killed him?

- Get out of the way.

- Wait a minute.

- It’s burning well.

- Yep.

Do you know what was in the suitcase?

Dollars. The ones in the flat.

- I bet you didn't warn me on purpose.

- That's right.

Think what we could have done

with that money.

We could have gone to Chicago,

Las Vegas, Monte Carlo. You idiot!

I’d have gone to Florence or Athens.

Let's go, travel broadens the mind.

- Chapter eight.

-A season in hell.

- Chapter eight.

- We crossed France.

- Like shadows.

- Like mirrors.

- Like shadows.

- Like mirrors.

I saw the café where Van Gogh

decided to cut off his ear.

- You're a liar. What did you see?

- I saw...

- Look, Pierrot, a Ford Galaxy.

- My name is Ferdinand.

Yes, that's the '62 model.

- Show that you're a man.

- Let me finish.

''After eating up a good many miles,

they came to the Bayuda desert,

which they had to cross

to reach Khartoum.

'Not much shade!' they grumbled,

as they set out under a burning sun.

'We'd be better off

in the shade of a glass of lager!'''

Make up your mind

or I’ll hitchhike alone.

All right, let's go.

A grease-job.

Where are the toilets?

Come on, Mimi.

Hey, kid! How'd you like to own

a car like this?

Well, you never will.

Marianne, the jacket!

Hey, kid!

How'd you like to earn 10,000 francs?

The landscape rose slowly before us.

Many centuries fled into the distance,

like storms.

Get rid of the clothes

while I turn around.

Hey! Not my comic book!

- Well?

- Nothing much.

They questioned her.

She said she saw us naked in my bed.

You see? And you called me a liar.

- Anything else?

- You're pretty interested in your wife.

Nothing happened.

I don't understand. He went mad.

As soon as you leave a woman,

she says you've gone mad.

Men are exactly the same.

That's true.

Besides, I don't know why,

but I’m beginning to smell death.

- Admit that you miss her!

- Stop, you're getting on my nerves.

The smell of death in the landscape,

the trees, in women's faces, in cars...

What are we going to do without money?

- We can't even get to Italy.

- We can stop anywhere.

- What will we do all day?

We must find my brother.

He'll give us lots of money.

Then we'll find a smart hotel

and have some fun.

- She just wants to have fun.

- Who are you talking to?

To the audience.

I told you

you were having regrets.

- You were crazy to do this.

- No, I’m in love.

It’s the same thing.

I’ve decided

never to fall in love again.

- I think it's disgusting.

- Don't say that.

Don't say that.

Ten minutes ago, I saw death everywhere.

And now look,

the sea, the waves, the sky.

Life may be sad,

but it's still beautiful.

I suddenly feel free. We can do

whatever we want when we want.

- Right, left, right, left.

- Look at the little fool.

He's driving down a straight line

and he has to follow it all the way.

What? Look.

- Chapter eight.

-A season in hell.

- Love needs to be reinvented.

- Real llfe ls elsewhere.

Many centuries fled into the distance,

like storms.

I held her close and began to cry.

It was the first, it was the only dream.

- Are you coming, then?

- Yes. Where are we going?

To the mysterious island.

- To do what?

- Nothing. Just exist.

- That won't be any fun.

- That's life.

No, not at all.

It’s a good thing I don't like spinach,

or I’d eat it,

and I can't stand the stuff.

It’s the same with you,

only the other way round.

There was a film like that

with Michel Simon.

- He was taken by this girl...

- You did want to change your life.

- I didn't mean to be nasty.

- You said we'd see this through.

To the end of the night, yes.

What a good view of the moon.

- I see nothing special.

- I do. I can see a man.

Maybe it's Leonov,

or that American, White.

Yes, I see him too.

But it's neither a Rusky

nor a nephew of Uncle Sam.

I’ll tell you who it is.

It’s the moon's only inhabitant.

And do you know what he's doing?

- Leaving as fast as he can.

- Why?

Look.

Because he's had enough.

He was glad to see Leonov turn up.

Someone to talk to at last!

He'd been all alone for an eternity.

But Leonov tried to brainwash him

with the complete works of Lenin.

So when White landed,

he sought refuge in his camp.

But he'd barely had time to say ''hello'',

when White emptied a Coke down him,

and even expected thanks.

So he's fed up. He'll leave them

to shoot it out and go.

- Where will he go?

- He'll come here.

Because he thinks you're beautiful.

He admires you.

I find your legs

and your breasts very moving.

Be quiet.

Chapter seven.

-A poet named revolver.

- Robert Browning.

- Get away.

- Never.

-As long as I’m here.

-And you're you.

As long as the universe will hold us.

- l, who love you.

-And you, who reject me.

-As long as one of us wants to run.

- It’s too much like fate.

I HAVE DECIDED

TO KEEP A JOURNAL.

WE LIVE BY HUNTING AND FISHING.

TUESDAY: NOTHING.

EYES: LANDSCAPES.

MOUTH: ONOMATOPOEIA

THAT BECOME LANGUAGE.

THE WRITER CHOOSES TO APPEAL...

FREEDOM OF OTHERS...

- Did you get my books?

- No, but I found this.

- The author shares your name.

- Ferdinand.

You've heard of him?

''I am fire, I am light, I am a miracle.

I can no longer hear. I rise.

I fly through the air.

It’s too much.

I’ve seen happiness before me.

Supernatural emotion!

And now... I know nothing.

I reach out my hand,

and dare, moving right,

to touch, to caress,

the hair of my dear fairy,

of my beloved marvel,

Virginia.''

Guignol's Band. Are you coming?

''Perfect happiness!

My ecstasy was so intense

that I dared not move.

Happy till I could cry, filled

with happiness, I quiver, quiver.

My heart is bursting, burning me,

and l, too, have become flame.

I am part of space,

I cling to Virginia.''

Let me take your book.

''You promised me China, Tibet,

Mr. Sosthène,

the Sunda islands

and wonderful, magical plants.''

Where are all these places?

''Cham-cham-cham... ratatam...

I knew that he was lying.''

- What day is it?

- Friday.

- You'll never leave me?

- Of course not.

- Of course?

- Yes.

Of course.

Yes, of course.

THURSDAY:

POETRY, THE LOSER WINS.

What can I do?

I don't know what to do.

Quiet! I’m trying to write.

''This is the issue.

You wait for me, and I’m not there.

I come into the room and only then

do I begin to exist for you.

And yet I existed before that,

I thought, maybe I even suffered.

This is the issue:

to show you, alive, thinking of me,

and to see myself alive,

by that very fact.''

I’ll underline this.

Are you thinking of your brother

and the whole arms business?

No.

Then why do you look sad?

Because you speak to me with words,

and I look at you with feelings.

It’s impossible

to have a conversation with you.

You never have any ideas,

just feelings.

That's not true. Feelings contain ideas.

Let's try to have

a serious conversation.

You'll tell me what you like,

what you want, and I’ll do the same.

Go on, you start.

Flowers, animals...

Blue skies, the sound of music...

I don't know. Everything.

And you?

Ambition...

Hope...

Movement, accidents.

What else?

I don't know. Everything.

You see? I was right five years ago.

We don't understand each other.

What can I do?

I don't know what to do.

SUNDAY:

SHE OPENED THE... THEN...

MONDAY...

- How's the old man?

- Not bad.

I’ve found an idea for a novel.

I won't describe people's lives,

but life itself, just life.

Everything that takes place between

people: space, sounds and colours.

It should be possible.

Joyce tried to do it,

but I should be able to improve on him.

Here are your books.

These aren't the ones.

- One of them is missing. I said five.

- I bought myself a record.

I said a record for every 50 books.

Music comes after literature.

lf you don't like it...

My little one, it's all as one.

- What's wrong with you?

- I can make rhymes, too, stupid.

- What's up, Marianne?

- I’ve had enough!

I’m sick of the sea, the sun, the sand,

tins - everything!

I’m sick of wearing the same dress!

I want to leave.

I want to live a full life.

- What do you want me to do?

- I don't know. I’ll leave.

I threw away the rest of our money.

- Where?

- In the sea, you fool.

Here.

You're mad, Marianne.

lf we're to leave, we'll need money.

There are loads of tourists.

We can rob them.

- Come on, Pierrot!

- My name is Ferdinand.

Let's stop pretending to be

in a book by Jules Verne.

Let's go back to our thriller -

full of cars, guns and nightclubs.

Come on!

Wait for me, Marianne!

- Does your brother really exist?

- You never believe me.

Say, if we find Fred

and he gives us some money,

can't we go to Miami?

- Deep down, you're a coward.

- No.

''Courage consists in staying home,

close to nature,

who is oblivious to our disasters.''

Hurry, the tourist boat

is about to leave.

Wait, I have an idea.

Give me your lipstick.

''After all, the only interesting thing

is the road that people follow.

The tragic part is that once we know

where they are going, who they are,

everything else is still a mystery.''

- Like the scent of eucalyptus.

- Eucalyptus, that's it.

- Too right!

- ''And life is an unresolved mystery.''

- Hurry up, Paul.

- Shut up, Virginie.

WE ARE DEAD PEOPLE ON LEAVE.

AND THE TREES?

TO EARN MONEY,

WE DREW FOR THE TOURISTS.

MODERN SLAVES.

Damn these Americans.

It doesn't matter.

We'll hit on a different plan.

- All we need to do is...

- What?

We can put on a play.

Maybe they'll give us some dollars.

- What play?

- Something they'll like.

I know. The Vietnam war.

THE NEPHEW OF UNCLE SAM

VERSUS THE NIECE OF UNCLE HO.

A bit of dosh for the actors.

Don't worry, Pierrot.

We've shaken them off. Let's go home.

No, listen, I’m going dancing.

No, come on. You can go tomorrow.

Following chapter. Despair.

- I’m staying here.

- I’ll go back alone.

- Hope.

- Yes, you do that.

- Remembrance of things past.

- They told me there was a nightclub.

- Remembrance of things past.

- They told me there was a nightclub.

I’m going dancing.

Who cares if we get killed?

Who cares if they find us?

I wanted to buy a record player.

I couldn't,

because he keeps buying books.

I don't particularly mind,

but he doesn't even understand that.

I don't care about books, about records.

I don't care about anything, even money.

I just want to live a bit.

But he'll never understand that.

To live.

I have a very short fate line.

I have a very short fate line

So little fate in my hand

That it scares me for the future

My fate line, my fate line

Tell me, darling, what do you think?

What I think of it? What does it matter?

I love your hip line, your hip line

- My fate line!

- I love to caress it

- Your hip line

- My fate line!

Is a flower in my garden

Look at my little fate line

Look at this tiny fate

So tiny in the palm of my hand

My fate line, my fate line

Tell me, dear, what you think of it

What I think of it? What does it matter?

Be quiet and give me your hand

- Your hip line

- My fate line!

Is a like a morning bird

- Your hip line

- My fate line!

Is the frivolous bird

determining our fates

But still, such a tiny fate line

A line so tiny it barely shows

No more than a dimple in my hand

My fate line, my fate line

Tell me, dear, what you think of it

What I think of it? What does it matter?

I’m crazy about you every morning

- Your hip line

- My fate line!

A bird sings in my hands

- Your line...

- My hip line

- My line...

- Of fate!

I may be daydreaming.

She makes me think of music.

Her face...

We have reached

the age of double men.

We no longer need mirrors

to talk to ourselves.

When Marianne says, ''it’s a nice day'',

what is she thinking about?

All I have is an image of her saying,

''It’s a nice day''.

Nothing more.

What's the point of figuring it out?

We are made of dreams

and dreams are made of us.

It’s a nice day, my love,

in dreams, words and death.

It’s a nice day, my love,

It’s a nice day, in life.

- Do you know what I’m thinking?

- I don't care.

Let's not start that again!

I told you to leave me alone.

Besides, I’m not starting again,

I’m carrying on.

- Oh, shit!

- What?

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

What's wrong?

- Do you want the plot for a novel?

- Tell me.

Someone is walking round Paris

and suddenly he sees Death.

So he immediately goes south

to avoid him,

because he thinks

his time hasn't come yet.

- So?

- So he drives all night, at speed,

and when he reaches the sea,

he gets hit by a truck and dies,

just when he thought

Death had lost his trail.

- Come on, let's hurry up.

- We've got plenty of time.

No, I’m scared.

Stay there.

- Small world, isn't it?

- What do you want?

- I’ll be back in five minutes.

- Shall I beat him up?

No, I’ll make something up

and get rid of him.

- I must find Fred, Pierrot.

- My name's Ferdinand. OK.

OK, mambo.

- Two beers.

- Two?

That way, when I’ve finished one,

I’ll have the other.

Don't you remember me?

You stayed at my place last year,

in Fontainebleau.

I lent you 100,000 francs.

- You slept with my wife.

- That's right.

- So now you're in the South of France?

- Yes.

- How are things?

- Fine. See you.

They're completely mad, you know.

Of course I’m not joking.

lf you don't tell me where

you stashed the money, you'll be sorry.

We'll give you electric shocks,

same as during the war.

Or else, like in Vietnam

we'll take all your clothes off

and put you in a bathtub

full of napalm...

..and we'll set fire to it.

No, right away, please.

You can do anything you want to me.

I’ll be nice to you.

Then hurry.

A glorious, noble death for a small man.

- What are you doing here?

- I heard some noise. I live below.

Beat him up.

We'll use that trick of yours.

You see? We're stronger than you.

What did you do with the money

that was in the car?

That's it, take him into the bathroom.

- Let's not forget to go see the yacht.

- There aren't any towels.

Use the little whore's dress.

Just press it to his face

so the water cuts off the air.

I’ll simplify your life

and tell you all I know.

Then I’ll ask you a question

and I’ll expect an honest answer.

I know who you are.

You're Ferdinand Griffon.

You were with Marianne

when she stabbed Donovan,

and you got away

with 50,000 dollar which belong to me.

I’ve nothing against you, personally.

I’m sure Marianne dragged you into this,

but that's your business.

As I was saying...

I’m not interested in you -

but I need to get hold of her.

Tell me where I can find her -

and the money.

It’s your last chance.

Tell us, or we'll kill you.

- The ''Marquise'' nightclub.

- That's either true or it's a lie.

Anyway, he looks so stupid he won't

add anything. We'll go and see.

- The ''Marquise'' nightclub.

- We'll go and see.

What a dreadful five o'clock.

I don't want to look at blood.

What a dreadful five o'clock.

I don't want to look at blood.

What a dreadful five o'clock.

Ferdinand turns up in the station of...

- Toulon.

- He's staying at...

The Little Palace Hotel.

He's looking for Marianne.

He cannot find her. Days go by.

Some afternoons,

he sleeps in all-day movies.

He still keeps a diary.

For words have a strange power

to illuminate the darkness...

Surrounding the named object...

Even if it is degraded

by everyday life.

Language often retains

only what is pure.

SEA

SOUL

BITTER

WEAPON

I am Princess A'i'cha Abadie,

and in spite of my fragile appearance,

I am very strong-willed

and I want to be obeyed.

- What are your orders?

- I’m Lebanese by adoption.

In 1960, I married Emir Abadie.

I am the exiled queen of Lebanon,

since it is now a socialist republic.

So I am in Nice incognito,

because my husband and l

have terrible enemies

and there is a price on our heads

in Lebanon.

I am often the target of machine-gun

fire, which always misses me,

no doubt

because I’m protected by Allah.

To marry Emir Abadie,

I had to convert to Islam.

I have flown to Beirut twice

in my husband's space machine.

And the witch doctor of Atlas.

Alexis, stop me from flying away.

The boat is pitching,

and you know how light I am.

Ferdinand, help me.

- Ferdinand, we weigh anchor in an hour.

- Yes, Princess.

Alexis, we're going into town.

Pierrot!

- It’s me.

- My name is Ferdinand.

Hi.

You don't look surprised to see me.

- What are you doing here?

- I’m happy.

I’ve finally found you.

- Where do you live now?

- With you, you fool.

I’ll be living with you.

I’ve been looking for you everywhere.

- Why didn't you wait for me?

- I wanted to.

I managed to get away

before they arrived.

I ran to the nightclub

to warn you not to come over,

but I didn't find you.

So I went back and saw those men

getting into the blue Ford.

I thought they'd killed you.

So I went away.

I don't even know where I went.

But I was afraid

of going back to the seaside.

And then one day, I ran into Fred,

in Toulon, in a bar,

the Las Vegas bar, in Toulon.

- How did you find out I was here?

- By accident.

It’s true, you know.

I believe you, you liar.

Why won't you ever believe I love you?

I love you in my own way.

Yes, that's true.

I’ll prove it.

Look. Yesterday, I went to our beach

and picked up your journal.

Thank you.

Look at the last page.

I wrote a little poem about you.

''Tender and cruel,

real and surreal,

terrifying and funny,

nocturnal and diurnal,

usual and unusual,

as handsome as anything...''

- Pierrot is mad!

- My name is Ferdinand.

- Stop bugging me, damn it!

- lf you think saying that suits you...

- God, too, can go to...

- Don't talk like that.

Listen to her! We're wanted for murder.

Do you know what that is?

Of course I do. So what?

Does it scare you?

Answer me.

I look at you, I listen to you,

but that's not what matters.

- Thanks.

- No, I mean, at this very moment.

Well, it has already passed.

Our relationship

is a bit like the blue of the sky.

I don't understand.

I’d like time to stand still.

When I put my hand on your knee,

that, in itself, is wonderful.

That's what life is about:

space, feelings.

Instead, I’m going to follow you back

to our tale of sound and fury.

- Actually, I don't care.

- Come on, Fred's waiting for us.

All right, never mind. Let's go.

What are the police up to?

We should have been in jail long ago.

They're clever.

They let people destroy themselves.

- Why do you do things like that?

- I keep telling you I didn't kill him.

It’s funny to be alive,

when so many have died.

Oh, yes, it's funny.

- This is like the set of Pépé le Moko.

- Who?

- Pépé le Moko.

- Who is he?

You really don't know anything.

- Do you know what you are?

- A sexual man.

As if.

I know who you are, but you don't.

It’s true. I’m just a big question mark

overlooking the Mediterranean.

- Are your parents still alive?

- Yes, and they've never been separated.

They were almost parted, once.

Dad was going on a trip,

I don't know where. A small trip.

They didn't have enough money

for two tickets.

Mum accompanied him to the bus.

And then they looked at each other:

she was below, he was at the window.

And just as the bus started,

Dad quickly got off.

He didn't want to leave my mother.

And while he was getting off, she was

getting on through the other door.

She didn't want to leave my father.

In the end, he didn't go on the trip.

What did you do

when you worked in that lift?

Nothing much.

I looked at people's faces.

- Where was that?

- At the Galeries Lafayette.

- Why so many questions?

- I’m trying to figure you out.

I never could, even five years ago.

I’m a very sentimental person,

that's all.

One has to be pretty stupid

to find that mysterious.

What does your brother do, exactly?

I never know if you're making stuff up.

- Oh, my brother...

- What was he doing in Tel Aviv?

At the moment,

there's a war going on in Yemen.

You really don't know anything.

He gets money

from the royalist government.

Do the others work for the Arab League?

- I don't know. Probably.

- Is there really a dancing troupe?

What's it to you?

Why does he need a front?

Arms dealing is almost legal these days.

- What's it to you?

- Just answer.

I’ll tell you something.

There are 3,600 seconds in an hour.

That's about 100,000 seconds per day.

In an average lifetime, that makes...

250 billion seconds.

Since we've known each other,

we've spent a month together.

lf we add it all together, I’ve only

been with you for a few million seconds

out of the 250 billion

that go to make up your life.

It’s not much.

So it's hardly surprising

I barely know who he is either.

- is he willing to do it?

- He'll do anything I want.

Oh, what a mess!

- You know...

- Six, seven, eight.

- You're doing well!

- One, two, three, four, five...

- Hi.

- Here you go.

- What am I supposed to do?

- You'll do what you're told.

- Just keep your eyes and ears open.

Remember the scent of eucalyptus?

- Nothing’s simple with you.

- Everything is.

Too much happens at once.

-A small harbour, as in Conrad.

-A boat, as in Robert Louis Stevenson.

-An old brothel, as in Faulkner.

-A rich steward, as in Jack London.

- Nothing’s simple with you.

- Everything is.

Too much happens at once.

Here are two men who beat me up,

as in Raymond Chandler.

And you, and me, and him.

See how simple it is?

- No.

- They want to buy the yacht.

The old man isn’t French.

My brother collects the money.

The others will be furious.

We must get rid of them.

-And then?

- You'll do as you're told.

A woman can kill lots of people.

There's no reason

why soft breasts and thighs

should keep her from killing everybody

to stay free or defend herself.

Consider Cuba, Vietnam, Israel...

- I love you.

- Me too.

Following chapter.. despair.

Following chapter.. hope, bitterness.

So tell me...

Have you seen a young woman

who looks like a film star?

That's none of your business.

- Is it all there?

- Yes.

- We all meet tonight as planned?

- Yes.

- Some people saw me.

- You fool.

- I don't understand.

- That way, Fred will look innocent.

Why are you betraying me?

- What's up?

- Nothing. You're making me suffer.

But, Pierrot,

50,000 dollar is worth worrying about.

My name is Ferdinand.

Why did you kiss me earlier?

I felt like it.

- Kiss me again.

- Not in front of everyone.

Why do you wear such tight trousers?

lf you don't like it,

you can go back to Paris.

Kiss me.

All right, I get it.

Betraying us isn't a good idea.

Be quiet, Cassandra.

- What?

- It’s the title of this novel.

You poor fool.

Listen!

- What?

- TWA.

Nice-Tahiti. 14:45.

A flight. We just have to catch it.

- Just the two of us, obviously.

- Yes, obviously.

Obviously.

French words say the opposite

of what they mean.

We say ''obviously''

when things aren't obvious.

Yep, I can't say I was expecting to find

the old man with a bullet in his head.

- Did you know your brother killed him?

- It’s none of my business.

I don't mind leaving, but Fred

will track us down and get even.

- I saw him get even with a girl once.

- I’ll protect you.

Fine, but I must go alone

or he'll be suspicious.

- OK, beautiful.

- OK, handsome.

I’m off, since we've nothing further

to say to each other.

- Meet up with me in half an hour.

- No.

I’ll count up to... 137.

You really are mad.

One, two, three, four, five,

six, seven, eight, nine, ten...

- .. 11, 12, 13, 14, 15...

- What about the case?

Start the car. Trust me,

and I’ll trust you. 18, 19, 20, 21, 22,

23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29... 30.

31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40,

41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47...

..49, 50, 51, 52, 53,

54, 55, 56, 57, 58...

..71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76...

.. 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84,

85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90... 100, 101,

102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108...

- You all right, old man?

- It’s... it's that tune.

You can't imagine what it means to me.

Can you hear it?

Nope, I can't hear a thing.

You wouldn't understand.

That tune's my whole life.

My whole life!

When I hear it, it really affects me.

One day, when I was at home,

it was playing...

She was next to me...

A magnificent woman, she was...

I took her hand and began to caress it.

Like that.

l asked her: ''Do you love me?''

And she said: ''No''. She said no.

So I bought the record,

because the music had...

It was mass hysteria -

though I was on my own.

And then, one day,

I put the record on.

It was going round and round

and round in my head.

Everything was spinning!

And there was a woman next to me -

a different one.

She wasn't as beautiful. She was...

In any case, I took her hand. I stroked

her palm for the sake of change,

otherwise it'd have been dull.

l asked her: ''Do you love me?''

And she said: ''Yeah''.

But I didn't love her,

so I broke the record and...

One day, I turned on the radio

and this was playing.

This!

Why couldn't they play something else?

She was next to me - on the other side,

because I was at her place.

It was a third woman.

I took her hand and caressed it

on both sides, just to get it over with.

The whole thing

was beginning to bug me.

I asked her: ''Do you love me?''

She replied: ''Yes, sir.''

I asked her: ''May I have your hand?''

She said: ''You've been holding it

for ten minutes.''

I said: ''Yes, that's true'',

and added...

Ten years.

Ten years! Ten years!

I can't take that tune anymore!

Do you hear it?

I can't stand it anymore! Hear it?

No.

It was right there.

Couldn't you hear it?

No, I couldn't.

Tell me... Well,

just come out and say that I’m crazy.

I’d like to hear you say:

''You're crazy.'' Say it!

- You're crazy.

- That's better.

- Going to the island?

- Yes, sir.

- What's your boat called?

- The Wassup?

I’ll pay the same fare if it's down.

Are you trying to say

the tune I hear doesn't exist?

The tune that has pursued me

all my life?

That tenderness? Insensitive man!

Can you hear me?

You've understood nothing.

Do you love me?

I held her against me

and started to cry.

It was our first, our only dream.

I’d like to put in a call to Paris.

Balzac 7502.

You've forgotten who Balzac is too?

Yes, I’ll hold the line.

It hurts.

You brought it on yourself.

- Please give me some water.

- You brought it on yourself.

I’m sorry, Pierrot.

My name is Ferdinand. It’s too late.

Yes?

Yes, I’ll hold.

Balzac 7502?

Is Mrs. Griffon there?

Who is that?

Odile?

How are the children?

No, nobody's calling.

What I wanted to say...

..or why...

What an idiot I’m being. Shit, shit...

- It’s ours again.

- What?

- Eternity.

- It’s just the sea.

And the sun.

Pierrot le Fou (1965) - full transcript