Reinventing Marvin (2017) - full transcript
A young man runs away from his family to become an actor.
Jewel!
Little faggot, little faggot, Marvin!
What a pretty sissy!
It's been too long, Jewel.
Didn't you want it?
Look how soft his skin is.
So damn pretty.
Look at this sissy!
Now you'll lick.
Go on, open up.
Open your mouth!
Lick! Go on, lick!
What? Got a problem?
What's your problem?
Don't like it?
All you bitches like it.
Come on.
Little mouth of yours.
Faggot!
Let's beat it. Let's go!
Faggot!
I see you looking out the window
Just like it was me
Like I was inside your head
Believe me, girl,
the silence and the cold
I know that stuff by heart
Been there, done that, before you!
I see you waiting,
waiting for your luck to change
Now I dance, in total indifference
You keep writing a list
of whatever you find wrong
Everything's not so sad,
tell yourself it's not that bad
Little sister,
I understand your pain and your sorrow
Because I had the same in my heart
Don't be a pain, Gerald.
Mute it. I can't hear.
I don't care! It's starting.
Will you mute it or not?
Blow it out your ass!
Move your asses, guys.
Clear the table.
What's that on your face?
Get into a fight?
Jeez.
It won't unscrew.
What now, skeleton?
Don't like it?
I'm not that hungry.
We hate this green stuff.
And why no fries?
We had fries yesterday.
This was free. From the neighbours.
Pain in the ass!
You have us grazing.
The nerve of you!
No more fries. We finished them.
You're acting like an ass!
- It's no good reheated.
- I'm fed up too.
I'm coming.
Idiots! You'll come back empty-handed.
Everything's closed.
Not the supermarket.
Get off your ass.
Heat the oil.
- Not heating the oil?
- Screw them.
They're not going out for fries.
- Two bottles while you're at it!
- Yeah.
Having one is like having none.
You didn't heat the oil!
I thought you'd eat out
since my food sucks.
Who cares what you think?
Like I care.
We'll have a little drink.
Remy, time for bed.
- Not tired!
- I don't care. Time for bed.
I've only made love alone.
As for women,
I wasn't short on time...
but on courage.
Before I die...
I'd like her to kiss my belly.
FUCK THE POLICE
DEATH TO FAGS
Little faggot.
What Homi Sorabji says,
and will soon explain to us,
is that oppression begins
before any act of oppression.
One tool the oppressor uses
to objectify the oppressed
is to impose an identity on him.
That is, the oppressor gives an identity
to the oppressed.
You're black
in the eyes of a white colonist.
Today, Abel's seminar was packed.
I run the website
for the drama school in Nancy.
I write the guests' biographical notes,
and other stuff.
It gives me pocket money,
and allows me to visit
Abel and Pierre in Paris.
We're all actors.
- Who has nothing to do with Theatre?
- Me.
I'm not so sure.
I saw pictures of your garden.
Isn't it a kind of scenography
with plants?
I agree 100%.
We wander through your gardens
like in fiction.
Very good point.
Maybe, but fiction without words. Mute.
Where everything is
in what you see and smell.
You didn't raise your hand.
What's your connection to theatre?
I do a one-man show.
And what's it about?
What would you say it's about?
You talk about a complicated love story,
pure, manifold and composed.
That's what someone might say like...
J.D. Salinger.
Ready?
Because here we go again.
Tell them.
It's about a bad start.
What's your name?
Marvin Bijou.
Don't change, Marvin.
It's hot when you wiggle your ass.
That how we like you.
Nice and girly.
Beat it!
You have your copies
of "Scapin the Schemer"?
Who doesn't?
You can share,
but you'll need it tomorrow.
Molière's "Scapin the Schemer"
is a play comprised of three acts.
Who can tell me
how long an act lasts?
An act lasts 30 minutes.
Time for a candle to burn.
They didn't have electricity.
This play...
was first performed in 1671
at the Palais Royal...
Who can give me some other
Molière titles?
"The Miser".
Excellent, Céline.
The play wasn't a hit...
- Hello, who is it?
- No way!
What did I say?
Carolus is shouting.
She's a sicko.
You got anger issues.
Go take your pills!
It fell out of your head!
Unbelievable. What animals.
Carolus,
why do you drink Carlsberg?
Enough. Calm down.
Back to work.
Can anyone tell me
what it means "to scheme"?
Can anyone...
Come in.
Sit down, please.
Hello, Mrs. Carolus.
Sorry to interrupt your class.
We have an announcement to make
to the students.
As you know, I'm leaving this school.
I'd like you to meet my replacement.
- Please welcome Mrs. Clement.
- Thank you.
- Hello.
- Welcome.
Mr. Metzinger said it all.
I'm your new principal.
I hope we'll get along well.
As for me,
I don't need to be considered cool.
It's a two-way street.
It's easier for me
to make the bad seeds suffer
than vice versa.
I hope you can suck.
All girls like to suck!
Don't move. Don't move.
We'll do you up nice.
Yeah, like that.
You're cute.
You're cute like that.
So damn cute.
Keep a lookout.
Now you're gonna suck me, OK?
No teeth!
I'll kill you if you hurt me.
You like that, little whore!
Someone's coming!
38.5.
You caught something at the pool.
Pools are gross.
- Can I stay home?
- Have you missed a lot?
Not many.
My mother saw nothing.
No idea of what went on at school.
She asked no questions,
noticed nothing.
She was a mother...
despite herself.
Almost despite herself.
Like all very young mothers.
A mother almost despite herself
like all very young mothers.
It was village law.
Not having a kid...
meant you were frigid...
or a lesbian.
It'll be the death of me.
Actually,
it was like when I'm constipated.
I ran to the toilet.
Didn't even need to push.
I heard "plop" and I looked.
The kid was there.
Could have been you.
Idiot that I was,
I was scared shitless.
You can't imagine.
I flushed the toilet.
Jesus...
Your dad went haywire.
Normal, it was his first kid.
The first.
But hey...
I drop kids like a hen.
Dad?
What does faggot mean?
Are you kidding?
It says it on the bus stop.
You know what it means.
A degenerate thing.
Like a kind of mental illness.
Listen to you!
You know what it means!
It's a kind of mental illness.
A degenerate thing.
And I remember my reasoning
that day.
A Child's reasoning.
That is, very logical deep down.
I thought OK, well...
if being a fag is a mental illness...
then I can't be a fag,
because I know I'm not crazy.
I'd like to work today
on the feeling of melancholy.
It'd be nice
if we could, very quickly,
define that word, each of us,
using intimate experiences.
Let's all define it quickly.
We can start with you.
It's like getting bogged down
in nostalgia.
- You?
- A wave of memories.
A wave of memories, yes.
Your turn.
Nice answer.
- You?
- A deep feeling.
- OK.
- You're like floating.
Like floating. OK, why not?
Each of you has their own definition...
Abel is a bit over 40,
but still looks like the child he was.
A jokester who could ditch you
without a word of explanation.
Abel also ran away
to become someone else.
Abel taught me
you can become someone else.
That is, yourself.
You can invent yourself.
He says
you just have to tear out your heart.
Tear out your heart.
Slice through every nerve and vein.
Then run away.
Without looking back.
Who's next in the bath?
It's getting cold!
Dry off and put on your pyjamas.
Come on, you Bijous. Get to it!
Still naked? My mom's coming.
So what?
Like your mom never saw a guy?
Look!
I'm allowed to work naked!
- Hi, Dad.
- How are you?
You're starting to piss me off!
Who's the boss here?
- Hi, Vanessa.
- Hey!
Hey, sweets. No Pat today?
No... we got in a fight.
Shit.
Let yourself go for once.
Go! Catch the blue one!
My back hurts.
Dany! You suck!
How much is that?
Two euros.
Two euros a pack.
Is that it?
Two euros, please.
Remy!
Dad, where's Remy?
He's not with you?
He just disappeared.
That's how
you keep an eye on him?
Good for nothing!
- He lost the kid.
- What?
Remy?
Those guys deserve
to choke on their balls.
With no more death penalty,
all you see are fags and child rapists.
Remy!
Where the fuck are you?
What's this crap?
- Where was he?
- In the church!
The church.
I don't believe it.
See what your crap does to us?
Go on, get to bed.
- Not tired.
- See what you put us through?
You ruined our night out.
Look at me when I speak.
Why are you such a pain?
Why?
I'll slap him good.
You've lost the touch?
- As if I hit you.
- You're not my real father!
Mine hit me, right Mom?
Dad hit me.
And I thank him for it.
It's normal.
You raise them like shit!
Mind your own business.
I say fear beats pain.
Now get to bed.
I'm not tired.
No discussion, go to bed.
Look how you raised Marvin.
You call that raising a kid, Mum?
You turned him into a girl!
Before you know it,
Remy will be a girl too.
What's your problem?
I'm gonna kill you!
Hands off him. Hands off!
Wait till you have kids.
Then you can talk!
Lay off him!
Stop it, Gerald.
How can you stand that?
Having that in the house?
That pussy!
Piece of shit!
I'll kill you! I'll kill you!
I'll fuck you up good, bastard!
You'll regret this.
- Lay off!
- Don't hit your father!
Gerald, stop!
Go and die!
I don't care if you all die!
I'm fed up!
Fuck! I don't care if you all die!
Don't touch me.
Where does that come from?
Who does it come from?
Did I ever hit?
I used to get hit.
My motherfucking father hit us!
May he rot in hell.
Did I ever raise a hand on you?
Even once?
Gerald's fucking up.
It's no good.
No good.
And the other one.
Why does he act like a fag?
What's his problem?
Is it just to piss us off?
Why does he embarrass us?
What are you doing, Bijou?
You skipped swimming.
I missed the bus.
You can't just stand here.
Excuse me, Mrs. Carolus.
I have Bijou.
Great.
You're better off here.
Thanks, Julie.
Want to try, Marvin?
- Try what?
- To improvise.
You stand in the centre
and act something.
I don't know.
Something you've seen.
Anything.
Dinner time!
You make us graze like cows!
Look what your mother makes us eat.
Then you complain
Marvin looks like a skeleton!
You make a girl of him.
What a fag!
Gerald, don't say that
about your brother!
Well, you know what?
Remy, turn the TV on!
Here's what I'll do.
I'm going to the supermarket for fries
and beer too.
Whatever.
Don't count on me to heat the oil.
Coming, Gerald?
I don't give a fuck!
You bust my balls!
- Hi.
- Hi, Pierre.
- How are you?
- Good and you?
- Hi Abel.
- How's it going?
I brought something.
That's so nice.
No need to bring a gift each time.
I couldn't choose.
Great! We'll chill it.
When the season changes,
I want oysters.
That must cost a lot.
That's not your concern this evening.
Not tonight, each time.
It's always your treat.
A sense of stability is healthy.
Anyway, we speak too poorly of routine
and too well of novelty.
That's him to a tee.
He really means it.
Don't like them?
I do.
Look.
Put some lemon on it, like this.
If it moves... You see?
It means it's fresh.
Swallowing it all at once
is best.
Let him do it.
- What are you looking at?
- The hole in your sweater.
No, not you!
He's the same. It drives him crazy.
Bourgeois to the bone.
Pierre's childhood was lacking
in chipped china and sweaters with holes.
You're way off.
You're just not real artists.
Come on!
It's my Caravaggio side.
Caravaggio wore clothes
till they turned to dust.
When you become real artists,
you'll have holes too.
Make an effort, guys.
Of course.
What are we doing after?
Want to go out?
Not me, no thanks.
I have another day as an artist
to finish.
But be my guests.
Salad?
No thanks.
Want something to drink?
Let me just say hello.
Here alone?
No, with a friend.
- Want to dance after?
- Yeah, later.
See you later.
Want one?
Thank you very much.
Bravo!
Well brought up.
What would you like?
In my drink or in my life?
Your drink, to start with.
Same as you.
You like boys?
Them, yes. A lot.
- Your nephews?
- No. No, my sons.
I can see a resemblance.
Yeah.
Less than I'd like.
Have a seat.
Are you like your parents?
More than I'd like.
What do they do?
Dad sells coke and guns.
Mom's a whore.
She prefers "escort".
Dad may not even be my dad.
Not bad.
What do you do?
I take classes at acting school.
Oh, I see.
Theatre.
Not taking over Dad's business?
I'm thinking it over.
Don't think too much.
Waste no time. Act fast.
That's the secret.
Hence the car?
Among other things.
So when do we think?
About what?
Poor boy wants to think.
When he thinks,
the tightrope walker falls.
Thinking...
The room is that way.
Roland...
I don't think I'll stay.
Sure, as you wish.
Thanks for the drink.
I see... Character.
Moral strength, right?
Character or cock-tease?
No.
Character.
Good.
Not too much of a whore.
So it's not in your genes.
Reason enough to meet again.
Madame, you invite me
into your intimate circle.
I owe you my impressions.
He'll say he loves me!
The first day I saw you,
I shouted to myself:
"How beautiful she is!"
Monsieur Paul!
- Yes?
- Nothing. Go on.
Day two, I thought:
"She's pleasant, and so witty."
Flatterer.
But I soon became sad.
Why?
Seeing how isolated you are,
I kept thinking of cactus flowers
that die, alas,
without ever being smelled.
But...
Austere woman!
Time to wipe your tears
and embrace life.
It's beautiful for those in love.
Oh, yeah? Oh, yes?
From what I've heard.
It's nice to tell a man,
whatever his age:
"Here is my heart.
Now give me yours...
and let's go to Assnear."
Asnières!
It's Assnear.
No!
Not Assnear, Asnières.
You're so dumb.
It's Assnear.
Asnières, but you did very well.
So class is over.
Remember, I need to know
who wants to audition for theatre class
at Epinal High School.
It's like we're speaking Chinese.
If you want to try out, tell us.
What's that mess you're making?
Move it.
You're not even dressed?
Don't be a pain.
Don't bust my balls.
Don't leave them out!
Fuck this track suit!
My back hurts!
How often must I say it?
I can barely bend down
to put on underwear.
So forget pants.
I can't bend down.
Do nothing all day
and can't pick up Marvin?
What else? Jeez!
I won't waste an ounce of gas
on his theatre shit.
What do you think,
that we're rich?
See what gas costs?
He's lying. He always lies.
There's always money
for booze and cigarettes.
Three packs a day for them both.
That's a lot of gas.
And he's not naked
because of his back.
He just likes it.
He said so.
He brings up money to shame us.
What are you doing?
Fucking you.
Didn't you say you liked it?
You wouldn't have lied?
Not about something so important.
Bijou?
What are you doing here?
Your parents can't pick you up?
They work.
You're good in Labiche.
Playing the seducer suits you.
Drama school in Epinal
doesn't interest you?
I thought you liked theatre.
Yeah, it's cool.
Cool?
So what will you do?
Sleeping away turns you off?
You'd sleep at vocational school too.
Leave me on the square.
No, I'll drive you home.
I finish what I start.
It's complicated after.
There must be a street.
Don't be childish.
- If you like me, stop here.
- What did you say?
Sorry, I didn't thank you yesterday.
You had no time,
but it's not too late.
So thanks.
I'm OK for drama school.
Really? OK.
So get to work.
Young people, watch what you say
Words have wings and can fly away
Straight to hate and sorrow
Protest not!
Your friends are sure, your voice soft,
but that word you thought unheard
Uttered softly in a dark, muted room
Immediately darts out of the gloom
It goes upstairs, opens the door,
takes a stride
Goes in, and mocking,
stares at the man inside
And says: "Here I am,
straight from a mouth you know"
Now it's done, you have a mortal foe
Good. Better.
I'd like to feel the author more.
Put yourself in his shoes.
Try to savour every word.
It still sounds schoolboy-ish.
It's normal. I'm a schoolboy.
Wise guy.
Once again.
Young people, watch what you say
Words have wings and can fly away
Straight to hate and sorrow
Protest not!
Your friends are sure,
your voice soft...
It isn't a traditional hotel.
The location is amazing
and it's near a temple.
- In Kyoto centre?
- What a city.
I went there ages ago.
Marvin, let me introduce you.
Give me the address.
The name.
The address won't help.
- True.
- Isabelle Huppert.
He's a very interesting boy.
I'm sure he is.
- How long will you be there?
- Ten days.
I love when this house is full.
So, Marvin, I hear you act.
I bet you're good at comedy.
It's in the shape of your mouth.
You like to laugh.
What I act isn't funny.
Let us be the judge.
It's about...
my points in common
with great men.
You have points in common
with great men?
For example, I have
a point in common with Caravaggio.
The painter.
The painter...
It has nothing to do with painting.
But he wore his clothes into rags.
So do I.
Not at all funny.
You got him wrong.
Nothing sweet comes from his mouth.
Just what was put in it.
I guess.
Stop, dammit!
I can't swim.
You have your phone?
You amuse everyone,
but jokes wear thin.
And rotting teeth are never a plus.
Time to fix your teeth.
Write this down.
Go on.
Philippe Bagenelles.
5, Avenue Kléber.
Orthodontist.
Call on my behalf.
Don't worry about the cost.
Hello.
- How are you?
- Good and you?
You're quiet.
You don't speak English?
As little as possible.
Cheers.
You should.
Speaking a foreign language
is like wearing a disguise.
Did Roland leave?
Yes, our English friend wanted to go.
Roland drove him.
But I think it was for the Jaguar.
That car has a wild effect
on young people.
Do you dance?
I pray to God for years and years
I was told he's too old for our tears
That he's too rich
to hear our little fears
He's too busy, He's a woman, He's a man
He's straight, He's gay
He's a singer, a DJ
I'm going to die.
Are you OK?
Is something wrong?
- I'm going to die.
- Really?
Damn.
Want a little drink first?
Come on.
I'll make herbal tea.
He's dying.
Got anything stronger?
Can I spend the night?
Of course.
Let's see.
What did you do to your teeth?
A guy is paying.
What the hell is going on?
I don't know what's going on.
Where did you disappear to?
- The countryside.
- Cool!
No, it's not cool.
"A guy is paying".
Cool.
I'll never manage.
- To do what?
- Anything.
It's all too hard.
I was dumb to think...
Isn't your show cruising along?
Shows don't cruise.
Too hard. I'm giving up.
It looks like you already gave up.
That's all you can say?
You never comfort each other?
Say what?
There's nothing to say.
"You must go on.
I can't go on.
You must go on. I'll go on."
Samuel Beckett.
Give us a break.
No one asked for a quote.
He wants your opinion, not Beckett's.
Too much to ask for?
- My me?
- Yes, your you.
- My me?
- Yes, your you.
All right.
I'll explain.
The me is a treasure
that we keep inside
and open once in a while
when it's the moment of truth.
When we express ourselves.
He's on stage now.
This only concerns me partially.
Sorry, there's nothing intimate
or personal
with what he's experiencing.
It's the usual thing.
All of it.
Marvin's is a tormented,
working-class fag
who found a shortcut
to switch sides, right?
By bed-hopping.
It's all very nice.
Pools...
Fancy cars...
New pearly whites.
I'm sick of being working-class.
What can I become?
Bourgeois, of course!
And a rich one, to boot.
Of course.
Am I wrong?
Am I?
What a fucking mess.
Looks like you struck a nerve.
Come on, it's nothing.
Come.
Marvin Bijou?
Come.
And so the year ends
And so our days end
In this season everything falls
in gusty winds
A wind from the tomb
that cuts down the living
They fall by the thousands,
useless feathers
Abandoned by the eagle
When new feathers
Warm its wings
as winter approaches
Thanks very much.
Next.
Marvin Bijou.
"The Secret" by Victor Hugo.
Young people, watch what you say
Word have wings and can fly away
Straight to hate and sorrow
Protest not!
Your friends are sure, your voice soft
Listen to this
Tête-à-tête, late at night,
door closed, your home,
not a witness in sight
You whisper to your oddest mate
or, if you feel less hate...
- You smoke?
- For special occasions.
But I don't inhale.
So?
I screwed up big time.
I doubt that.
Anyway, all we can do now is wait.
Go on!
Excellent!
Keep it up!
Go on!
Faster!
Stop that racket!
Little pricks!
Beat it, you losers!
You're pissing us off, fatso!
Wait till Fatso comes out!
Shut up, bitch!
I'll kick your asses!
Come on!
Move your ass!
Bitch!
You shut that bitch up.
Go on!
Faster!
You dating someone?
Maybe.
Nothing from welfare?
Nothing from school?
Jeez, lay off!
Your father could work
if he wanted to.
All he cares about is
booze and buddies.
Go for it!
Mrs. Clement!
So, Bijou?
Celebrating with beer?
- Celebrating what?
- Excuse me?
You got into drama school.
Didn't get the letter?
Bravo. Congratulations.
Why the shit fit?
Listen to his shit fit.
Jeez!
I was gonna give it to you.
- When did it come?
- No idea.
Who cares when it came?
Where the fuck is it?
Hey, mind your manners!
Next time you'll be sorry!
Mommy,
Marvin's going to miss the train.
I'll drive him to the station.
Let's cut the shit.
If you don't like it, too bad.
Forget it. I'll drive him.
We have to talk.
Before I forget.
That would suck.
It's no jackpot.
It'll pay for your Coca Cola.
Or whatever.
I meant to tell you.
Where you're going...
everyone's a thug.
Blacks, Arabs, that's all there is.
Beware.
Especially Moroccans.
They're the nastiest of all.
If you get mugged,
give them everything.
Money, phone, everything.
OK?
You'd get killed if you fight back.
Sorry!
Watching fags suck face for two hours
is deadly boring.
Why equate homosexuality with death?
It's just different.
If the fags took over,
mankind would die.
You mean "when", not "if".
When you fuck a woman,
you churn in her blood.
With a guy, you churn in his shit.
Churn?
Where did you get "churn"?
What's that expression?
It was crap.
I don't understand.
I don't agree. What did you say?
I thought it was really good.
I agree with you,
it was really interesting.
Bijou?
Mrs. Clement?
Get in.
I'll run you a bath.
I won't get undressed here!
Excuse me.
Did the cigarette bother you?
I wasn't asleep anyway.
It's one of those nights.
Let's go with it.
May I?
Remember what you said
a while ago,
so I wouldn't drive you home?
You said:
"If you like me, let me out here."
I let you out,
because I like you the way you are.
What we are doesn't matter.
What are we? Dust.
But we can even live at peace with that.
The fact that we're nothing.
It's what we do that matters.
Not even.
What matters
is what's deep down inside us,
which we're not aware of.
That's what matters.
Afterwards...
what we do or don't do...
You know he wants
to take the show on tour?
I need to find a stage name.
Don't like François Chasson?
It's not bad.
But Wilfrid is a mouthful.
Is Marvin Bijou your real name?
It's not something you pick.
Marvin Bijou.
It's wild. It's amazing!
Richard the Lionheart
can eat his heart out.
We want to make progress.
You're right. I don't feel
I've moved forward this year.
You're exaggerating.
I've made progress.
You can't do theatre
with the fourth wall nowadays.
See the new department head?
He looks young!
And Portuguese.
Son of a mason and a maid.
Quite a promotion.
It blows me away.
He must really deserve it.
It's not unlike you.
You weren't a sure-thing either.
Graduating, fame...
But thanks to hanging around
people like you...
You called your program "Exiles".
You deal a lot with minorities,
homosexuality...
Why this choice?
I'll answer your question
with a little story.
A black child.
Who was called a "dirty nigger"
at school.
He goes home. He's hurt.
He's sad, he's crushed.
But his parents are there.
They offer support, comfort.
He's at home, sheltered,
no longer alone.
On the other hand,
take a gay child.
He's called a "dirty faggot",
when he goes home,
often no one offers support.
No one consoles him.
He's alone.
So alone
that he may not even mention it.
Why?
Because in his own home,
in his own family, and often...
in a family that's culturally deprived,
they insult faggots and dykes.
For me, this is a radical form of exile.
That child, poor,
sad
and gay, who I was...
doesn't feel at home anywhere.
He's a stranger in his own house,
amid his own family.
I'll be right back.
Hello.
I'm a first-year student.
Where?
The theatre, here.
Great.
Can I speak to you?
Aren't we speaking?
I wanted to tell you...
I'm like you.
Exactly like you.
Every problem has a solution.
There are revolvers.
There's rope.
You can also jump from the 10th floor.
That always works.
There's analysis,
but you can't be in a rush.
If you're like me...
Since you're like me...
make a difference with your difference.
That's what theatre is for.
You know that.
It's not just for show.
You OK?
What's your name?
Hello, Marvin.
Pierre, come meet someone.
Maybe we can have a drink.
Want a drink?
"Object.
Request to change last name.
Given the character
(specify if:
hurtful, dishonourable,
insulting, offensive,
grotesque) of my last name,
it is in my interest, personally
and professionally, to change it.
This is why
I hereby make an official request
to change my name
from Marvin Bijou
to Martin Clement."
Really? Martin Clement?
Clement like Mrs. Clement?
We're not good enough for you now?
Crazy you're allowed to change names.
Is it expensive?
It must be.
About 100 euros.
Really? I'd have thought more.
A name doesn't cost much.
Your father will go haywire.
You won't have his name.
At the same time,
Martin Clement
is better than Dany Dique.
What's Dany Dique?
Dany is dating a new girl.
Her last name is Dique.
No way.
Her name is Joelle Dique.
When he says start from scratch,
he means it.
I call it loafing around.
It's like when he went down south
with his Arab.
His Arab? What Arab?
How should I know?
His name was Snow.
Can you believe "Snow"?
He never mentioned it?
He lies all the time.
They were attached at the hip.
Then he came back,
tail between his legs, penniless.
The rest is history.
It's Isabelle Huppert.
Hello.
Did you hear? About Roland?
I figured that no one would call you.
He had an accident, Marvin.
He's dead.
What?
On the highway in Germany.
There's nothing left of the Jaguar.
Bits and pieces.
Don't think too much.
Don't waste your time.
That's the secret. Act fast.
So when do we think?
Poor boy wants to think.
You mustn't.
When he thinks,
the tightrope walker falls.
He rarely mentioned his "stray cats".
That's what he called his protégés.
We'd see them come and go.
That's all.
Like you. I mean...
Not just you.
We saw each other...
a few weeks ago.
We crossed paths in Geneva.
He said it would be nice
to keep an eye on Marvin.
I don't know what I said.
I must have said:
"I have no time for your cats."
He answered:
"Not all my cats, just Marvin."
Funny, isn't it?
So I said OK.
God knows why, but I said OK.
If you need me, just meow.
Even from afar.
I have good ears.
Your opinion means a lot to me.
Don't go overboard.
Don't touch me.
Don't touch.
Where does that come from?
Where does he get it from?
Did I hit?
I used to get hit.
My father hit me,
may he rot in hell.
But did I ever lay a hand on you?
Once?
Gerald fucked up.
That's no good.
No good.
And him.
Why does he act like a faggot?
Is it to piss us off?
Why does he embarrass us?
Good.
It's good to act each role.
I don't know.
Is there a text?
I assume there's a text.
Of course.
Nice notebook.
Where are Pierre's plants?
They followed him out.
Like the flying dishes in "Fantasia".
Never saw "Fantasia"?
It's normal.
I'd like to chat but I have to work.
Stop storming off stage.
What do you mean Pierre left?
Storming off stage?
You sound like Pierre now.
I sound like the people I love.
Like you, too.
Pierre left last week.
He left because...
I had no more stories to tell him.
I used up all my magic tricks.
I started keeping quiet.
He got bored.
So did I.
With myself, not him.
There you go.
I should cry, I think.
I wouldn't be against it.
Crying.
I'd do it if I knew how.
I'll try this weekend
when things calm down.
Or maybe I'll go to my Mum's.
Fuck, this will be the end of me.
At least I know what'll kill me.
You used to tell a story
to whoever wanted to hear.
And to whoever didn't want to.
Like an idiot,
I thought I was constipated.
It hurt like when I'm constipated.
You know how painful this is?
I ran to the toilet.
No need to push.
I heard plop, looked down.
There you were, in the toilet.
Talk about a crib!
Best joke of the year!
In my dream, you're totally naked.
Totally.
Everyone stares at you.
You seem to like it.
No one says a word.
You have a gaping hole
instead of an ass.
Like a gutted chicken.
A supermarket chicken.
You seem happy
to be empty and clean.
Inside,
there's nothing left.
No more guts.
By that hole,
sunlight enters your body.
Linings of white, pink flesh.
Pearly.
It's very pretty.
Too bad you're dead.
Like an idiot, I was freaking out.
Terrified beyond belief.
So I flushed.
And what do I see?
You're still there.
Amid the Mr. Clean bubbles.
You wouldn't go away.
I don't want to.
I want to come back.
I wanted nothing else,
but I don't tell you.
It's why you don't hear me.
I took a brush
and pushed you down.
Straight away!
Crazy.
But I was panicking.
It was obvious you couldn't fit.
You were way too big.
Even if I pushed.
Let me come back.
Mum, let me come back.
Dany would have been pissed
if he lost his first kid.
It's understandable.
But I'm a good hen
and he has huge balls.
We'd have had others.
Let me come back.
This year's big hit,
"Who Killed Marvin Bijou?",
Martin Clement's autobiographical play
with him and Isabelle Huppert,
is packed every night.
The press is unanimous.
But in the village
where the author is from,
his family sees things
in a different light.
I don't know why
he depicts us like retards.
He got as much love
as the others.
We're not homophobes.
Don't think that.
I love my children!
A lot.
This isn't a loving family?
He's my son.
My pride and joy.
He was even my favourite.
Marvin was always... a little different.
I remember when we played soccer,
he always had to play differently.
You're here?
Come in.
I'd run, if I were you.
Gerald has your address.
He says he'll wait for you
with a baseball bat.
Kiss your beautiful teeth goodbye.
Oh, yeah?
Gerald wants to kill everyone.
Yeah, and he does it.
You're stupid to come here.
You're killing us all.
You know it.
You drag our lives in the mud.
It's your lives?
Your lives, not mine?
It's not the opposite?
You didn't try killing me?
You think I forgot
all faggots should die?
Think I forgot that?
You did pretty well in the end.
And the letter from school?
Who hid it all summer,
even though I asked every day?
I asked every day!
It wasn't to stop me?
Don't cry. I thought you were angry.
I prefer when you're angry.
Dany did his best.
He did as he was taught.
You know his upbringing.
Blacks are niggers, gays are faggots.
He had no other words.
That's what I talk about
in the fucking play!
Don't you see
I'm trying to save us all?
It's what I talk about.
The only thing we're taught
is to fuck our lives
and everyone else's,
so no one's jealous.
He's proud of you, if you must know.
He's no idiot.
Who?
Dany.
Yeah, right.
All he sees
is that you're on TV.
Anyway, he's proud.
So this is... Martin.
Joelle, my companion.
Maryline.
Linda. Mickael!
And Mickael.
The kids.
You came from Paris?
- How was the trip?
- It was fine.
The food won't cook itself.
Let's prepare the skewers.
Is sausage and lamb chops OK?
Perfect.
Did they tell you at home
I found work?
At home? There is no more home.
It was sold.
Want some?
Help yourself.
You didn't like "Marvin"?
No one is named like that.
That's what's good about it.
Not many of them.
But Martins come a dime a dozen.
Is that a problem?
Not at all.
Live and let live.
It's up to you.
So, things are great.
- I wouldn't go overboard.
- Come on...
Newspapers, TV... It's incredible.
I didn't see the play.
No big deal.
I hear there's a book.
Can I get it at the supermarket?
I don't know.
I'll bring you one.
It took balls to do what you did.
You all can get married.
Now.
Us all?
Yeah, the gays.
You say "gay" now?
Yeah. Why, it's not right?
Getting married?
You've got to be in love for that.
Why should I?
You were married and unhappy.
This is about you.
What's the difference?
Remember why you married Odile?
You left once before, right?
You went down south with Snow.
With Snow.
Yeah, but...
What did you do with Snow?
No, but...
It's not at all what you think.
Jeez!
You got it all wrong.
I don't want to go away.
I want to come back.
It's all I ever wanted.
I don't tell you,
which is why you don't hear.
How much
of what you really experienced
do we see in the show?
Nothing we see on stage is real life.
It's theatre.
But the facts are real, not invented.
Was your childhood really so dark?
Of course there were moments of joy,
even of happiness.
But suffering is like a beam of light
shining on you at night.
Everything else disappears.
So everything is real?
I invented nothing.
I experienced it all.
Sometimes we experience things alone.
Only we know they happened.
It doesn't mean they didn't exist.
They existed only for you.
I don't want to go home.
Why?
My dad caught eels.
Third time this week.
Just the sight of them is gross.
At least you don't eat them alive.
Oysters are gross.
My dad fishes,
so we eat that stuff a lot.
Catching eels isn't fishing.
You just throw a net.
It's for lazy people.
Shut up!
It's just how you catch them.
Everyone knows your dad's a jerk-off.
Can you shut up?
It's true. He's a jerk-off.
- Take it back.
- No way.
Let go!
Take it back!
Take it back!
Take it back!
Marvin, let go!
WHO KILLED
MARVIN BIJOU?
For Dany, with all my...
How are you?
I was afraid to miss you.
I left the book on the train,
like an idiot.
Don't worry.
The kids will find it on internet.
Here, look.
We mentioned marriage.
Take it. I don't wear it.
It used to be worth something.
Don't put it in your pocket.
Put it with your money.
Now it's safe.
There you go, my man.
Little faggot, little faggot, Marvin!
What a pretty sissy!
It's been too long, Jewel.
Didn't you want it?
Look how soft his skin is.
So damn pretty.
Look at this sissy!
Now you'll lick.
Go on, open up.
Open your mouth!
Lick! Go on, lick!
What? Got a problem?
What's your problem?
Don't like it?
All you bitches like it.
Come on.
Little mouth of yours.
Faggot!
Let's beat it. Let's go!
Faggot!
I see you looking out the window
Just like it was me
Like I was inside your head
Believe me, girl,
the silence and the cold
I know that stuff by heart
Been there, done that, before you!
I see you waiting,
waiting for your luck to change
Now I dance, in total indifference
You keep writing a list
of whatever you find wrong
Everything's not so sad,
tell yourself it's not that bad
Little sister,
I understand your pain and your sorrow
Because I had the same in my heart
Don't be a pain, Gerald.
Mute it. I can't hear.
I don't care! It's starting.
Will you mute it or not?
Blow it out your ass!
Move your asses, guys.
Clear the table.
What's that on your face?
Get into a fight?
Jeez.
It won't unscrew.
What now, skeleton?
Don't like it?
I'm not that hungry.
We hate this green stuff.
And why no fries?
We had fries yesterday.
This was free. From the neighbours.
Pain in the ass!
You have us grazing.
The nerve of you!
No more fries. We finished them.
You're acting like an ass!
- It's no good reheated.
- I'm fed up too.
I'm coming.
Idiots! You'll come back empty-handed.
Everything's closed.
Not the supermarket.
Get off your ass.
Heat the oil.
- Not heating the oil?
- Screw them.
They're not going out for fries.
- Two bottles while you're at it!
- Yeah.
Having one is like having none.
You didn't heat the oil!
I thought you'd eat out
since my food sucks.
Who cares what you think?
Like I care.
We'll have a little drink.
Remy, time for bed.
- Not tired!
- I don't care. Time for bed.
I've only made love alone.
As for women,
I wasn't short on time...
but on courage.
Before I die...
I'd like her to kiss my belly.
FUCK THE POLICE
DEATH TO FAGS
Little faggot.
What Homi Sorabji says,
and will soon explain to us,
is that oppression begins
before any act of oppression.
One tool the oppressor uses
to objectify the oppressed
is to impose an identity on him.
That is, the oppressor gives an identity
to the oppressed.
You're black
in the eyes of a white colonist.
Today, Abel's seminar was packed.
I run the website
for the drama school in Nancy.
I write the guests' biographical notes,
and other stuff.
It gives me pocket money,
and allows me to visit
Abel and Pierre in Paris.
We're all actors.
- Who has nothing to do with Theatre?
- Me.
I'm not so sure.
I saw pictures of your garden.
Isn't it a kind of scenography
with plants?
I agree 100%.
We wander through your gardens
like in fiction.
Very good point.
Maybe, but fiction without words. Mute.
Where everything is
in what you see and smell.
You didn't raise your hand.
What's your connection to theatre?
I do a one-man show.
And what's it about?
What would you say it's about?
You talk about a complicated love story,
pure, manifold and composed.
That's what someone might say like...
J.D. Salinger.
Ready?
Because here we go again.
Tell them.
It's about a bad start.
What's your name?
Marvin Bijou.
Don't change, Marvin.
It's hot when you wiggle your ass.
That how we like you.
Nice and girly.
Beat it!
You have your copies
of "Scapin the Schemer"?
Who doesn't?
You can share,
but you'll need it tomorrow.
Molière's "Scapin the Schemer"
is a play comprised of three acts.
Who can tell me
how long an act lasts?
An act lasts 30 minutes.
Time for a candle to burn.
They didn't have electricity.
This play...
was first performed in 1671
at the Palais Royal...
Who can give me some other
Molière titles?
"The Miser".
Excellent, Céline.
The play wasn't a hit...
- Hello, who is it?
- No way!
What did I say?
Carolus is shouting.
She's a sicko.
You got anger issues.
Go take your pills!
It fell out of your head!
Unbelievable. What animals.
Carolus,
why do you drink Carlsberg?
Enough. Calm down.
Back to work.
Can anyone tell me
what it means "to scheme"?
Can anyone...
Come in.
Sit down, please.
Hello, Mrs. Carolus.
Sorry to interrupt your class.
We have an announcement to make
to the students.
As you know, I'm leaving this school.
I'd like you to meet my replacement.
- Please welcome Mrs. Clement.
- Thank you.
- Hello.
- Welcome.
Mr. Metzinger said it all.
I'm your new principal.
I hope we'll get along well.
As for me,
I don't need to be considered cool.
It's a two-way street.
It's easier for me
to make the bad seeds suffer
than vice versa.
I hope you can suck.
All girls like to suck!
Don't move. Don't move.
We'll do you up nice.
Yeah, like that.
You're cute.
You're cute like that.
So damn cute.
Keep a lookout.
Now you're gonna suck me, OK?
No teeth!
I'll kill you if you hurt me.
You like that, little whore!
Someone's coming!
38.5.
You caught something at the pool.
Pools are gross.
- Can I stay home?
- Have you missed a lot?
Not many.
My mother saw nothing.
No idea of what went on at school.
She asked no questions,
noticed nothing.
She was a mother...
despite herself.
Almost despite herself.
Like all very young mothers.
A mother almost despite herself
like all very young mothers.
It was village law.
Not having a kid...
meant you were frigid...
or a lesbian.
It'll be the death of me.
Actually,
it was like when I'm constipated.
I ran to the toilet.
Didn't even need to push.
I heard "plop" and I looked.
The kid was there.
Could have been you.
Idiot that I was,
I was scared shitless.
You can't imagine.
I flushed the toilet.
Jesus...
Your dad went haywire.
Normal, it was his first kid.
The first.
But hey...
I drop kids like a hen.
Dad?
What does faggot mean?
Are you kidding?
It says it on the bus stop.
You know what it means.
A degenerate thing.
Like a kind of mental illness.
Listen to you!
You know what it means!
It's a kind of mental illness.
A degenerate thing.
And I remember my reasoning
that day.
A Child's reasoning.
That is, very logical deep down.
I thought OK, well...
if being a fag is a mental illness...
then I can't be a fag,
because I know I'm not crazy.
I'd like to work today
on the feeling of melancholy.
It'd be nice
if we could, very quickly,
define that word, each of us,
using intimate experiences.
Let's all define it quickly.
We can start with you.
It's like getting bogged down
in nostalgia.
- You?
- A wave of memories.
A wave of memories, yes.
Your turn.
Nice answer.
- You?
- A deep feeling.
- OK.
- You're like floating.
Like floating. OK, why not?
Each of you has their own definition...
Abel is a bit over 40,
but still looks like the child he was.
A jokester who could ditch you
without a word of explanation.
Abel also ran away
to become someone else.
Abel taught me
you can become someone else.
That is, yourself.
You can invent yourself.
He says
you just have to tear out your heart.
Tear out your heart.
Slice through every nerve and vein.
Then run away.
Without looking back.
Who's next in the bath?
It's getting cold!
Dry off and put on your pyjamas.
Come on, you Bijous. Get to it!
Still naked? My mom's coming.
So what?
Like your mom never saw a guy?
Look!
I'm allowed to work naked!
- Hi, Dad.
- How are you?
You're starting to piss me off!
Who's the boss here?
- Hi, Vanessa.
- Hey!
Hey, sweets. No Pat today?
No... we got in a fight.
Shit.
Let yourself go for once.
Go! Catch the blue one!
My back hurts.
Dany! You suck!
How much is that?
Two euros.
Two euros a pack.
Is that it?
Two euros, please.
Remy!
Dad, where's Remy?
He's not with you?
He just disappeared.
That's how
you keep an eye on him?
Good for nothing!
- He lost the kid.
- What?
Remy?
Those guys deserve
to choke on their balls.
With no more death penalty,
all you see are fags and child rapists.
Remy!
Where the fuck are you?
What's this crap?
- Where was he?
- In the church!
The church.
I don't believe it.
See what your crap does to us?
Go on, get to bed.
- Not tired.
- See what you put us through?
You ruined our night out.
Look at me when I speak.
Why are you such a pain?
Why?
I'll slap him good.
You've lost the touch?
- As if I hit you.
- You're not my real father!
Mine hit me, right Mom?
Dad hit me.
And I thank him for it.
It's normal.
You raise them like shit!
Mind your own business.
I say fear beats pain.
Now get to bed.
I'm not tired.
No discussion, go to bed.
Look how you raised Marvin.
You call that raising a kid, Mum?
You turned him into a girl!
Before you know it,
Remy will be a girl too.
What's your problem?
I'm gonna kill you!
Hands off him. Hands off!
Wait till you have kids.
Then you can talk!
Lay off him!
Stop it, Gerald.
How can you stand that?
Having that in the house?
That pussy!
Piece of shit!
I'll kill you! I'll kill you!
I'll fuck you up good, bastard!
You'll regret this.
- Lay off!
- Don't hit your father!
Gerald, stop!
Go and die!
I don't care if you all die!
I'm fed up!
Fuck! I don't care if you all die!
Don't touch me.
Where does that come from?
Who does it come from?
Did I ever hit?
I used to get hit.
My motherfucking father hit us!
May he rot in hell.
Did I ever raise a hand on you?
Even once?
Gerald's fucking up.
It's no good.
No good.
And the other one.
Why does he act like a fag?
What's his problem?
Is it just to piss us off?
Why does he embarrass us?
What are you doing, Bijou?
You skipped swimming.
I missed the bus.
You can't just stand here.
Excuse me, Mrs. Carolus.
I have Bijou.
Great.
You're better off here.
Thanks, Julie.
Want to try, Marvin?
- Try what?
- To improvise.
You stand in the centre
and act something.
I don't know.
Something you've seen.
Anything.
Dinner time!
You make us graze like cows!
Look what your mother makes us eat.
Then you complain
Marvin looks like a skeleton!
You make a girl of him.
What a fag!
Gerald, don't say that
about your brother!
Well, you know what?
Remy, turn the TV on!
Here's what I'll do.
I'm going to the supermarket for fries
and beer too.
Whatever.
Don't count on me to heat the oil.
Coming, Gerald?
I don't give a fuck!
You bust my balls!
- Hi.
- Hi, Pierre.
- How are you?
- Good and you?
- Hi Abel.
- How's it going?
I brought something.
That's so nice.
No need to bring a gift each time.
I couldn't choose.
Great! We'll chill it.
When the season changes,
I want oysters.
That must cost a lot.
That's not your concern this evening.
Not tonight, each time.
It's always your treat.
A sense of stability is healthy.
Anyway, we speak too poorly of routine
and too well of novelty.
That's him to a tee.
He really means it.
Don't like them?
I do.
Look.
Put some lemon on it, like this.
If it moves... You see?
It means it's fresh.
Swallowing it all at once
is best.
Let him do it.
- What are you looking at?
- The hole in your sweater.
No, not you!
He's the same. It drives him crazy.
Bourgeois to the bone.
Pierre's childhood was lacking
in chipped china and sweaters with holes.
You're way off.
You're just not real artists.
Come on!
It's my Caravaggio side.
Caravaggio wore clothes
till they turned to dust.
When you become real artists,
you'll have holes too.
Make an effort, guys.
Of course.
What are we doing after?
Want to go out?
Not me, no thanks.
I have another day as an artist
to finish.
But be my guests.
Salad?
No thanks.
Want something to drink?
Let me just say hello.
Here alone?
No, with a friend.
- Want to dance after?
- Yeah, later.
See you later.
Want one?
Thank you very much.
Bravo!
Well brought up.
What would you like?
In my drink or in my life?
Your drink, to start with.
Same as you.
You like boys?
Them, yes. A lot.
- Your nephews?
- No. No, my sons.
I can see a resemblance.
Yeah.
Less than I'd like.
Have a seat.
Are you like your parents?
More than I'd like.
What do they do?
Dad sells coke and guns.
Mom's a whore.
She prefers "escort".
Dad may not even be my dad.
Not bad.
What do you do?
I take classes at acting school.
Oh, I see.
Theatre.
Not taking over Dad's business?
I'm thinking it over.
Don't think too much.
Waste no time. Act fast.
That's the secret.
Hence the car?
Among other things.
So when do we think?
About what?
Poor boy wants to think.
When he thinks,
the tightrope walker falls.
Thinking...
The room is that way.
Roland...
I don't think I'll stay.
Sure, as you wish.
Thanks for the drink.
I see... Character.
Moral strength, right?
Character or cock-tease?
No.
Character.
Good.
Not too much of a whore.
So it's not in your genes.
Reason enough to meet again.
Madame, you invite me
into your intimate circle.
I owe you my impressions.
He'll say he loves me!
The first day I saw you,
I shouted to myself:
"How beautiful she is!"
Monsieur Paul!
- Yes?
- Nothing. Go on.
Day two, I thought:
"She's pleasant, and so witty."
Flatterer.
But I soon became sad.
Why?
Seeing how isolated you are,
I kept thinking of cactus flowers
that die, alas,
without ever being smelled.
But...
Austere woman!
Time to wipe your tears
and embrace life.
It's beautiful for those in love.
Oh, yeah? Oh, yes?
From what I've heard.
It's nice to tell a man,
whatever his age:
"Here is my heart.
Now give me yours...
and let's go to Assnear."
Asnières!
It's Assnear.
No!
Not Assnear, Asnières.
You're so dumb.
It's Assnear.
Asnières, but you did very well.
So class is over.
Remember, I need to know
who wants to audition for theatre class
at Epinal High School.
It's like we're speaking Chinese.
If you want to try out, tell us.
What's that mess you're making?
Move it.
You're not even dressed?
Don't be a pain.
Don't bust my balls.
Don't leave them out!
Fuck this track suit!
My back hurts!
How often must I say it?
I can barely bend down
to put on underwear.
So forget pants.
I can't bend down.
Do nothing all day
and can't pick up Marvin?
What else? Jeez!
I won't waste an ounce of gas
on his theatre shit.
What do you think,
that we're rich?
See what gas costs?
He's lying. He always lies.
There's always money
for booze and cigarettes.
Three packs a day for them both.
That's a lot of gas.
And he's not naked
because of his back.
He just likes it.
He said so.
He brings up money to shame us.
What are you doing?
Fucking you.
Didn't you say you liked it?
You wouldn't have lied?
Not about something so important.
Bijou?
What are you doing here?
Your parents can't pick you up?
They work.
You're good in Labiche.
Playing the seducer suits you.
Drama school in Epinal
doesn't interest you?
I thought you liked theatre.
Yeah, it's cool.
Cool?
So what will you do?
Sleeping away turns you off?
You'd sleep at vocational school too.
Leave me on the square.
No, I'll drive you home.
I finish what I start.
It's complicated after.
There must be a street.
Don't be childish.
- If you like me, stop here.
- What did you say?
Sorry, I didn't thank you yesterday.
You had no time,
but it's not too late.
So thanks.
I'm OK for drama school.
Really? OK.
So get to work.
Young people, watch what you say
Words have wings and can fly away
Straight to hate and sorrow
Protest not!
Your friends are sure, your voice soft,
but that word you thought unheard
Uttered softly in a dark, muted room
Immediately darts out of the gloom
It goes upstairs, opens the door,
takes a stride
Goes in, and mocking,
stares at the man inside
And says: "Here I am,
straight from a mouth you know"
Now it's done, you have a mortal foe
Good. Better.
I'd like to feel the author more.
Put yourself in his shoes.
Try to savour every word.
It still sounds schoolboy-ish.
It's normal. I'm a schoolboy.
Wise guy.
Once again.
Young people, watch what you say
Words have wings and can fly away
Straight to hate and sorrow
Protest not!
Your friends are sure,
your voice soft...
It isn't a traditional hotel.
The location is amazing
and it's near a temple.
- In Kyoto centre?
- What a city.
I went there ages ago.
Marvin, let me introduce you.
Give me the address.
The name.
The address won't help.
- True.
- Isabelle Huppert.
He's a very interesting boy.
I'm sure he is.
- How long will you be there?
- Ten days.
I love when this house is full.
So, Marvin, I hear you act.
I bet you're good at comedy.
It's in the shape of your mouth.
You like to laugh.
What I act isn't funny.
Let us be the judge.
It's about...
my points in common
with great men.
You have points in common
with great men?
For example, I have
a point in common with Caravaggio.
The painter.
The painter...
It has nothing to do with painting.
But he wore his clothes into rags.
So do I.
Not at all funny.
You got him wrong.
Nothing sweet comes from his mouth.
Just what was put in it.
I guess.
Stop, dammit!
I can't swim.
You have your phone?
You amuse everyone,
but jokes wear thin.
And rotting teeth are never a plus.
Time to fix your teeth.
Write this down.
Go on.
Philippe Bagenelles.
5, Avenue Kléber.
Orthodontist.
Call on my behalf.
Don't worry about the cost.
Hello.
- How are you?
- Good and you?
You're quiet.
You don't speak English?
As little as possible.
Cheers.
You should.
Speaking a foreign language
is like wearing a disguise.
Did Roland leave?
Yes, our English friend wanted to go.
Roland drove him.
But I think it was for the Jaguar.
That car has a wild effect
on young people.
Do you dance?
I pray to God for years and years
I was told he's too old for our tears
That he's too rich
to hear our little fears
He's too busy, He's a woman, He's a man
He's straight, He's gay
He's a singer, a DJ
I'm going to die.
Are you OK?
Is something wrong?
- I'm going to die.
- Really?
Damn.
Want a little drink first?
Come on.
I'll make herbal tea.
He's dying.
Got anything stronger?
Can I spend the night?
Of course.
Let's see.
What did you do to your teeth?
A guy is paying.
What the hell is going on?
I don't know what's going on.
Where did you disappear to?
- The countryside.
- Cool!
No, it's not cool.
"A guy is paying".
Cool.
I'll never manage.
- To do what?
- Anything.
It's all too hard.
I was dumb to think...
Isn't your show cruising along?
Shows don't cruise.
Too hard. I'm giving up.
It looks like you already gave up.
That's all you can say?
You never comfort each other?
Say what?
There's nothing to say.
"You must go on.
I can't go on.
You must go on. I'll go on."
Samuel Beckett.
Give us a break.
No one asked for a quote.
He wants your opinion, not Beckett's.
Too much to ask for?
- My me?
- Yes, your you.
- My me?
- Yes, your you.
All right.
I'll explain.
The me is a treasure
that we keep inside
and open once in a while
when it's the moment of truth.
When we express ourselves.
He's on stage now.
This only concerns me partially.
Sorry, there's nothing intimate
or personal
with what he's experiencing.
It's the usual thing.
All of it.
Marvin's is a tormented,
working-class fag
who found a shortcut
to switch sides, right?
By bed-hopping.
It's all very nice.
Pools...
Fancy cars...
New pearly whites.
I'm sick of being working-class.
What can I become?
Bourgeois, of course!
And a rich one, to boot.
Of course.
Am I wrong?
Am I?
What a fucking mess.
Looks like you struck a nerve.
Come on, it's nothing.
Come.
Marvin Bijou?
Come.
And so the year ends
And so our days end
In this season everything falls
in gusty winds
A wind from the tomb
that cuts down the living
They fall by the thousands,
useless feathers
Abandoned by the eagle
When new feathers
Warm its wings
as winter approaches
Thanks very much.
Next.
Marvin Bijou.
"The Secret" by Victor Hugo.
Young people, watch what you say
Word have wings and can fly away
Straight to hate and sorrow
Protest not!
Your friends are sure, your voice soft
Listen to this
Tête-à-tête, late at night,
door closed, your home,
not a witness in sight
You whisper to your oddest mate
or, if you feel less hate...
- You smoke?
- For special occasions.
But I don't inhale.
So?
I screwed up big time.
I doubt that.
Anyway, all we can do now is wait.
Go on!
Excellent!
Keep it up!
Go on!
Faster!
Stop that racket!
Little pricks!
Beat it, you losers!
You're pissing us off, fatso!
Wait till Fatso comes out!
Shut up, bitch!
I'll kick your asses!
Come on!
Move your ass!
Bitch!
You shut that bitch up.
Go on!
Faster!
You dating someone?
Maybe.
Nothing from welfare?
Nothing from school?
Jeez, lay off!
Your father could work
if he wanted to.
All he cares about is
booze and buddies.
Go for it!
Mrs. Clement!
So, Bijou?
Celebrating with beer?
- Celebrating what?
- Excuse me?
You got into drama school.
Didn't get the letter?
Bravo. Congratulations.
Why the shit fit?
Listen to his shit fit.
Jeez!
I was gonna give it to you.
- When did it come?
- No idea.
Who cares when it came?
Where the fuck is it?
Hey, mind your manners!
Next time you'll be sorry!
Mommy,
Marvin's going to miss the train.
I'll drive him to the station.
Let's cut the shit.
If you don't like it, too bad.
Forget it. I'll drive him.
We have to talk.
Before I forget.
That would suck.
It's no jackpot.
It'll pay for your Coca Cola.
Or whatever.
I meant to tell you.
Where you're going...
everyone's a thug.
Blacks, Arabs, that's all there is.
Beware.
Especially Moroccans.
They're the nastiest of all.
If you get mugged,
give them everything.
Money, phone, everything.
OK?
You'd get killed if you fight back.
Sorry!
Watching fags suck face for two hours
is deadly boring.
Why equate homosexuality with death?
It's just different.
If the fags took over,
mankind would die.
You mean "when", not "if".
When you fuck a woman,
you churn in her blood.
With a guy, you churn in his shit.
Churn?
Where did you get "churn"?
What's that expression?
It was crap.
I don't understand.
I don't agree. What did you say?
I thought it was really good.
I agree with you,
it was really interesting.
Bijou?
Mrs. Clement?
Get in.
I'll run you a bath.
I won't get undressed here!
Excuse me.
Did the cigarette bother you?
I wasn't asleep anyway.
It's one of those nights.
Let's go with it.
May I?
Remember what you said
a while ago,
so I wouldn't drive you home?
You said:
"If you like me, let me out here."
I let you out,
because I like you the way you are.
What we are doesn't matter.
What are we? Dust.
But we can even live at peace with that.
The fact that we're nothing.
It's what we do that matters.
Not even.
What matters
is what's deep down inside us,
which we're not aware of.
That's what matters.
Afterwards...
what we do or don't do...
You know he wants
to take the show on tour?
I need to find a stage name.
Don't like François Chasson?
It's not bad.
But Wilfrid is a mouthful.
Is Marvin Bijou your real name?
It's not something you pick.
Marvin Bijou.
It's wild. It's amazing!
Richard the Lionheart
can eat his heart out.
We want to make progress.
You're right. I don't feel
I've moved forward this year.
You're exaggerating.
I've made progress.
You can't do theatre
with the fourth wall nowadays.
See the new department head?
He looks young!
And Portuguese.
Son of a mason and a maid.
Quite a promotion.
It blows me away.
He must really deserve it.
It's not unlike you.
You weren't a sure-thing either.
Graduating, fame...
But thanks to hanging around
people like you...
You called your program "Exiles".
You deal a lot with minorities,
homosexuality...
Why this choice?
I'll answer your question
with a little story.
A black child.
Who was called a "dirty nigger"
at school.
He goes home. He's hurt.
He's sad, he's crushed.
But his parents are there.
They offer support, comfort.
He's at home, sheltered,
no longer alone.
On the other hand,
take a gay child.
He's called a "dirty faggot",
when he goes home,
often no one offers support.
No one consoles him.
He's alone.
So alone
that he may not even mention it.
Why?
Because in his own home,
in his own family, and often...
in a family that's culturally deprived,
they insult faggots and dykes.
For me, this is a radical form of exile.
That child, poor,
sad
and gay, who I was...
doesn't feel at home anywhere.
He's a stranger in his own house,
amid his own family.
I'll be right back.
Hello.
I'm a first-year student.
Where?
The theatre, here.
Great.
Can I speak to you?
Aren't we speaking?
I wanted to tell you...
I'm like you.
Exactly like you.
Every problem has a solution.
There are revolvers.
There's rope.
You can also jump from the 10th floor.
That always works.
There's analysis,
but you can't be in a rush.
If you're like me...
Since you're like me...
make a difference with your difference.
That's what theatre is for.
You know that.
It's not just for show.
You OK?
What's your name?
Hello, Marvin.
Pierre, come meet someone.
Maybe we can have a drink.
Want a drink?
"Object.
Request to change last name.
Given the character
(specify if:
hurtful, dishonourable,
insulting, offensive,
grotesque) of my last name,
it is in my interest, personally
and professionally, to change it.
This is why
I hereby make an official request
to change my name
from Marvin Bijou
to Martin Clement."
Really? Martin Clement?
Clement like Mrs. Clement?
We're not good enough for you now?
Crazy you're allowed to change names.
Is it expensive?
It must be.
About 100 euros.
Really? I'd have thought more.
A name doesn't cost much.
Your father will go haywire.
You won't have his name.
At the same time,
Martin Clement
is better than Dany Dique.
What's Dany Dique?
Dany is dating a new girl.
Her last name is Dique.
No way.
Her name is Joelle Dique.
When he says start from scratch,
he means it.
I call it loafing around.
It's like when he went down south
with his Arab.
His Arab? What Arab?
How should I know?
His name was Snow.
Can you believe "Snow"?
He never mentioned it?
He lies all the time.
They were attached at the hip.
Then he came back,
tail between his legs, penniless.
The rest is history.
It's Isabelle Huppert.
Hello.
Did you hear? About Roland?
I figured that no one would call you.
He had an accident, Marvin.
He's dead.
What?
On the highway in Germany.
There's nothing left of the Jaguar.
Bits and pieces.
Don't think too much.
Don't waste your time.
That's the secret. Act fast.
So when do we think?
Poor boy wants to think.
You mustn't.
When he thinks,
the tightrope walker falls.
He rarely mentioned his "stray cats".
That's what he called his protégés.
We'd see them come and go.
That's all.
Like you. I mean...
Not just you.
We saw each other...
a few weeks ago.
We crossed paths in Geneva.
He said it would be nice
to keep an eye on Marvin.
I don't know what I said.
I must have said:
"I have no time for your cats."
He answered:
"Not all my cats, just Marvin."
Funny, isn't it?
So I said OK.
God knows why, but I said OK.
If you need me, just meow.
Even from afar.
I have good ears.
Your opinion means a lot to me.
Don't go overboard.
Don't touch me.
Don't touch.
Where does that come from?
Where does he get it from?
Did I hit?
I used to get hit.
My father hit me,
may he rot in hell.
But did I ever lay a hand on you?
Once?
Gerald fucked up.
That's no good.
No good.
And him.
Why does he act like a faggot?
Is it to piss us off?
Why does he embarrass us?
Good.
It's good to act each role.
I don't know.
Is there a text?
I assume there's a text.
Of course.
Nice notebook.
Where are Pierre's plants?
They followed him out.
Like the flying dishes in "Fantasia".
Never saw "Fantasia"?
It's normal.
I'd like to chat but I have to work.
Stop storming off stage.
What do you mean Pierre left?
Storming off stage?
You sound like Pierre now.
I sound like the people I love.
Like you, too.
Pierre left last week.
He left because...
I had no more stories to tell him.
I used up all my magic tricks.
I started keeping quiet.
He got bored.
So did I.
With myself, not him.
There you go.
I should cry, I think.
I wouldn't be against it.
Crying.
I'd do it if I knew how.
I'll try this weekend
when things calm down.
Or maybe I'll go to my Mum's.
Fuck, this will be the end of me.
At least I know what'll kill me.
You used to tell a story
to whoever wanted to hear.
And to whoever didn't want to.
Like an idiot,
I thought I was constipated.
It hurt like when I'm constipated.
You know how painful this is?
I ran to the toilet.
No need to push.
I heard plop, looked down.
There you were, in the toilet.
Talk about a crib!
Best joke of the year!
In my dream, you're totally naked.
Totally.
Everyone stares at you.
You seem to like it.
No one says a word.
You have a gaping hole
instead of an ass.
Like a gutted chicken.
A supermarket chicken.
You seem happy
to be empty and clean.
Inside,
there's nothing left.
No more guts.
By that hole,
sunlight enters your body.
Linings of white, pink flesh.
Pearly.
It's very pretty.
Too bad you're dead.
Like an idiot, I was freaking out.
Terrified beyond belief.
So I flushed.
And what do I see?
You're still there.
Amid the Mr. Clean bubbles.
You wouldn't go away.
I don't want to.
I want to come back.
I wanted nothing else,
but I don't tell you.
It's why you don't hear me.
I took a brush
and pushed you down.
Straight away!
Crazy.
But I was panicking.
It was obvious you couldn't fit.
You were way too big.
Even if I pushed.
Let me come back.
Mum, let me come back.
Dany would have been pissed
if he lost his first kid.
It's understandable.
But I'm a good hen
and he has huge balls.
We'd have had others.
Let me come back.
This year's big hit,
"Who Killed Marvin Bijou?",
Martin Clement's autobiographical play
with him and Isabelle Huppert,
is packed every night.
The press is unanimous.
But in the village
where the author is from,
his family sees things
in a different light.
I don't know why
he depicts us like retards.
He got as much love
as the others.
We're not homophobes.
Don't think that.
I love my children!
A lot.
This isn't a loving family?
He's my son.
My pride and joy.
He was even my favourite.
Marvin was always... a little different.
I remember when we played soccer,
he always had to play differently.
You're here?
Come in.
I'd run, if I were you.
Gerald has your address.
He says he'll wait for you
with a baseball bat.
Kiss your beautiful teeth goodbye.
Oh, yeah?
Gerald wants to kill everyone.
Yeah, and he does it.
You're stupid to come here.
You're killing us all.
You know it.
You drag our lives in the mud.
It's your lives?
Your lives, not mine?
It's not the opposite?
You didn't try killing me?
You think I forgot
all faggots should die?
Think I forgot that?
You did pretty well in the end.
And the letter from school?
Who hid it all summer,
even though I asked every day?
I asked every day!
It wasn't to stop me?
Don't cry. I thought you were angry.
I prefer when you're angry.
Dany did his best.
He did as he was taught.
You know his upbringing.
Blacks are niggers, gays are faggots.
He had no other words.
That's what I talk about
in the fucking play!
Don't you see
I'm trying to save us all?
It's what I talk about.
The only thing we're taught
is to fuck our lives
and everyone else's,
so no one's jealous.
He's proud of you, if you must know.
He's no idiot.
Who?
Dany.
Yeah, right.
All he sees
is that you're on TV.
Anyway, he's proud.
So this is... Martin.
Joelle, my companion.
Maryline.
Linda. Mickael!
And Mickael.
The kids.
You came from Paris?
- How was the trip?
- It was fine.
The food won't cook itself.
Let's prepare the skewers.
Is sausage and lamb chops OK?
Perfect.
Did they tell you at home
I found work?
At home? There is no more home.
It was sold.
Want some?
Help yourself.
You didn't like "Marvin"?
No one is named like that.
That's what's good about it.
Not many of them.
But Martins come a dime a dozen.
Is that a problem?
Not at all.
Live and let live.
It's up to you.
So, things are great.
- I wouldn't go overboard.
- Come on...
Newspapers, TV... It's incredible.
I didn't see the play.
No big deal.
I hear there's a book.
Can I get it at the supermarket?
I don't know.
I'll bring you one.
It took balls to do what you did.
You all can get married.
Now.
Us all?
Yeah, the gays.
You say "gay" now?
Yeah. Why, it's not right?
Getting married?
You've got to be in love for that.
Why should I?
You were married and unhappy.
This is about you.
What's the difference?
Remember why you married Odile?
You left once before, right?
You went down south with Snow.
With Snow.
Yeah, but...
What did you do with Snow?
No, but...
It's not at all what you think.
Jeez!
You got it all wrong.
I don't want to go away.
I want to come back.
It's all I ever wanted.
I don't tell you,
which is why you don't hear.
How much
of what you really experienced
do we see in the show?
Nothing we see on stage is real life.
It's theatre.
But the facts are real, not invented.
Was your childhood really so dark?
Of course there were moments of joy,
even of happiness.
But suffering is like a beam of light
shining on you at night.
Everything else disappears.
So everything is real?
I invented nothing.
I experienced it all.
Sometimes we experience things alone.
Only we know they happened.
It doesn't mean they didn't exist.
They existed only for you.
I don't want to go home.
Why?
My dad caught eels.
Third time this week.
Just the sight of them is gross.
At least you don't eat them alive.
Oysters are gross.
My dad fishes,
so we eat that stuff a lot.
Catching eels isn't fishing.
You just throw a net.
It's for lazy people.
Shut up!
It's just how you catch them.
Everyone knows your dad's a jerk-off.
Can you shut up?
It's true. He's a jerk-off.
- Take it back.
- No way.
Let go!
Take it back!
Take it back!
Take it back!
Marvin, let go!
WHO KILLED
MARVIN BIJOU?
For Dany, with all my...
How are you?
I was afraid to miss you.
I left the book on the train,
like an idiot.
Don't worry.
The kids will find it on internet.
Here, look.
We mentioned marriage.
Take it. I don't wear it.
It used to be worth something.
Don't put it in your pocket.
Put it with your money.
Now it's safe.
There you go, my man.