ONE OF THE 121 FRENCH FILMS
OF WHICH ONLY 3 OR 4 GET MADE
IN 15 CONCISE EPISODES
“Never do two...
gazes meet.
No sign...
of life.
Silence.
Emptiness.
Warmth.
The light fades.
Nowhere...
in the setting of this narrative...
without boundaries...
telling of the monotony...
telling of the grind...
day after day.
Anonymous, this young man from Marseilles...
talking around the clock,
talking with others.
Sharing life...
unable...
to be alone.
No sign anywhere.”
Excuse me. Aren't you Madeleine Zimmer?
Yes. Why? Have we met?
I've seen you in here before.
That's possible.
Sorry, but a friend of mine, Robert Poicard,
knows someone you know.
A guy named Dumas.
Oh, sure. Marcel.
The door!
He said Dumas might be able to get me a job.
At the magazine?
He works for a magazine? I didn't know that.
If it's Marcel Dumas, he does.
You work for that magazine too?
I used to, in the photo department. But not anymore.
I’m trying to make a record. You're looking for work?
Not exactly, but I just did my military service.
Was that fun?
It's 16 months of your life
with no comfort, money, love, or free time.
In other words, modern life.
Twenty-four hours a day of submission to unbridled authority.
Sixteen months of struggle a young Frenchman must endure
to win relative freedom
from authority
when he's had no access to culture.
It can become a life of submission,
because the military and industrial complexes coexist very well,
as does the logic of money with that of order.
You're right. Doesn't sound like fun.
So now you're just hanging around?
Not exactly.
But I'd like a change.
I often have to work in adverse conditions.
For instance, I‘m at Naphtha Chemical now.
What's that?
That big white building near the Citroén plant.
I've met some good people there.
The working class in Paris is generally decent.
They like to talk. Maybe a bit too much.
That's what hurts the Party, I think.
It has lots of members, but not many true activists.
It's due to working conditions.
There are no breaks.
Management did away with them to increase output.
So a worker has no time for himself.
His life is nothing but work, eating, sleeping, and more work.
I’m fed up.
I’m meeting Marcel here later. What's your friend's name?
You're a slut!
I‘m fed up with your insults!
It's not my fault if insults are all you understand.
You don't know what you want. - I do too!
Leave Patrick alone! He stays with me!
Go find yourself another maid!
The door!
Hi.
How's it going? - Terrible.
What's wrong?
I‘m saying things are terrible until 10:00.
An espresso.
It's 10:05 now.
Really? Then everything's fine.
Still working the night shift?
Haven't you read the papers? We're on strike.
The government will lose this time. Or so I hope.
Did the Communist union call the strike?
Yeah, with the anti-Communist union.
And what do those bastards say?
Oh, you know.
Yeah, I remember. Just like with the Catholics.
Before I forget, sign this.
“We, the undersigned, concerned by the arrest and sequestering
of eight artists and writers in Rio de Janeiro
accused simply of voicing their opposition to state policy...
hereby protest this violation of freedom of expression
traditionally recognized in Brazil
and demand the release of these eight prisoners.”
Last week it was Madrid.
What'll it be next week?
Athens, Baghdad, Lisbon.
How much are you making these days?
HUMAN LABOR
RESURRECTS THINGS
FROM THE DEAD
Did you ask about the room?
I meant to tell you.
I can't take it.
Still sleeping in your car?
Yes, I'm still in Soissons.
Yesterday or the day before, I yelled to you on Place Clichy.
Didn't you see me?
I did, but I was with my cousin.
Seeing her a lot?
It's rough, you know.
Have you seen your girl again?
Who? Madeleine?
She doesn't interest me in the least.
So you're not getting laid then?
- The stadium? - The other side of town.
What was that about?
- Putting myself in his shoes. - And?
And nothing.
So why do it?
People say, “Put yourself in the other guy's shoes.”
That shows it's pointless.
Watch this.
May I have some sugar, miss?
Not bad.
Her breasts?
Let me try.
May I have some sugar, miss?
- Well? - Fantastic.
- I gotta go. - See you Friday.
You got it.
Today in Paris, what do young women dream about?
But which young women?
Assembly-line inspectors with no time to make love
because they're so worn out?
The man/cur/.gts on the Champs-Elysées
who start hooking at age 18
at the big Right Bank hotels?
The rich schoolgirls
who only know Bergson and Sartre
because their bourgeois parents keep them locked up?
There is no average Frenchwoman.
- You okay? - Fine.
Marcel said it's working out.
Yes, I know.
Did you agree on a salary?
We're talking it over Tuesday.
Excuse me.
You realize today's the 23rd?
Yeah. So?
What about the 23rd?
You said we could go out on the 23rd.
I never said that.
I think you're a hell of a liar.
I don't.
Why “ha ha”?
I don't know. You never lie?
Never?
Sure, sometimes, but as a rule not very often.
Why not?
I lie to you sometimes.
Me? Why do you lie to me?
So I"m not your type?
No, it's not that.
You think my nose is too big?
Not at all.
Glad to hear it.
Why do you want to go out with me tonight?
Because I think you're pretty. And for some tenderness.
Nothing else about me interests you?
- Sure. Everything. - For instance?
Your hair, eyes, nose, mouth, hands.
By “going out” do you mean “going to bed”?
Give me a straight answer.
Answer me.
How old are you?
I'm 21.
Are your parents still around?
Yeah, they're around.
Do you see them often?
Once in a while.
You go out with girls a lot?
Once in a while.
I'd like to go to bed with you.
How about you? - I never thought about it.
And now that I'm asking?
Why did you say we'd go out on the 23rd?
That was a lie.
Why did you lie? I believed you.
I know it's not nice, but —
Paul, do you ever go out with girls at night?
I said I did.
What kind of girls?
- Girls I like. - Girls like me?
You ever go with a hooker?
It's happened.
But I don't like hookers. It's sad. There's no feeling.
- I didn't ask for details. - I'm just telling you.
Why are you telling me?
No reason. To show you how I feel.
What do you do at night when you're alone?
Like tonight. What are you doing?
Tonight, I —
I have lots of photos to sort for the magazine.
Is that true?
What kind of photos?
Fashion photos we took.
You said you were making a record. Nothing about fashion photos.
They're not mutually exclusive.
I still handle fashion photos. I sort them, file them.
- Photos of you? - No, never of me.
You going out with a guy tonight?
I saw you with a tall guy the other night.
Very tall.
Oh, right. I had just run into him.
Really? That's not true.
- Yes, it is. - I don't believe you.
Where did you two go?
Just to a cafe.
What did you talk about?
My record.
If we go out, are you afraid I'll come on too strong?
Is that why you won't go out with me?
Yes, maybe.
Why be afraid of that? I think you're very pretty.
It makes me uncomfortable.
I really like breasts like yours.
I mean it.
That matters!
Look me in the eye.
What are you thinking about as you look at me?
Look at me. - Nothing.
Nothing?
You must be thinking of something. We always are.
Now, as you look at me. - I'm just looking.
This moment. What are you thinking of?
Um...
What's the center of the world for you?
The center of the world?
The first time we really talk, you ask me unusual questions.
I think it's a perfectly normal question.
- True. - Come on. Answer me.
Love, I guess.
Funny. I'd have said “me.”
Does that seem strange?
Don't you think you're the center of the world?
In a way, sure.
What way?
By living, being, seeing with my own eyes,
speaking with my own mouth,
thinking with my own mind.
Do you think a person can live alone all the time?
No, I don't think so.
No. Impossible.
It's like I said: We can't live without tenderness.
We'd kill ourselves.
Look me in the eye.
If I said I might love you someday, would it make you happy?
Sure it would.
Times had changed.
It was the age of James Bond and Vietnam.
Hope swept the French left as the December elections loomed.
I'd turned 21 two days before.
Robert and I were putting up posters around Paris.
My affair with Madeleine was coming along foo.
She introduced me to Elisabeth.
Robert liked Catherine, who was probably still a virgin
but had the makings of a future activist.
Hey there.
Things booming in Vietnam? - Sure are.
- Killing lots of Communists? - Sure are.
And burning the whole country up with napalm. Fantastic!
Women, children — all wiped out.
Nice work.
PEACE IN VIETNAM
Philosopher and filmmaker share a way of being,
an outlook on life, that of a generation.
Paris, November 25, 1965.
I have a plain blue coat.
Elisabeth's is trimmed in white.
I live at her place, opposite the elevated train.
/It's cold.
We had lunch at a snack bar on the Rue Marbeuf.
Paul kissed me for the second time.
Elisabeth is a bit jealous.
I don't care.
RCA is releasing my first single in two days.
I hope it sells.
Then I can buy a Morris Cooper.
I'm glad Paul's in love with me.
I might let him screw me.
But he'd better not become a pest.
- See anything? - Nothing.
What do we do?
I'm getting off at Etoile.
Let's go to the Palladium.
No, I'm beat.
Then I'll ride with you until Montparnasse.
- Come on. - [ don't feel like it.
You can really be a stupid nigger.
- No comment. - What?
I said, “No comment.”
That's enough. Shut your trap!
Know what you blacks are?
Potential murderers.
And you know it.
And your dream is to look like a Hollywood hooker, right?
Money is all you think about.
It's written all over your face.
They just don't get it.
They hold their heads and blather...
“Oooh, I just love Bessie Smith!”
They have no clue what she's singing about.
“Here's my big fat black ass.”
She's not singing about love.
What, then?
It's not about desire or sorrow.
Nothing like what you think.
Want me to tell you?
Her big fat black ass is telling you to fuck off.
That's what.
Same goes for musicians.
Take Charlie Parker.
Look out!
Say to him, “Charlie boy, drop your sax...
and you can bump off the first 10 whites
you meet in the street.”
He'd throw his horn in the ocean and never play again.
What are you morons staring at?
NOTHING LEFT BUT A WOMAN
AND A MAN
AND AN OCEAN
OF SPILLED BLOOD
The genitals — come off it! They're part of the body.
- Sure, but — - It's sexuality.
I don't agree.
What is it for you, then?
For me, first of all, sexuality means skin.
- What? - For me the skin is very important.
Skin.
There can be no contact between two people if —
It all starts with skin contact.
Just shaking hands you can tell right away
If you feel something.
A person's gaze, their eyes — don't they count?
Excuse me?
Their eyes, their gaze.
I don't know.
You think Paul is good in bed?
- Who? - Paul.
THE MOLE HAS NO CONSCIOUSNESS,
YET IT BURROWS IN A SPECIFIC DIRECTION
I don't have time.
Be nice. It'll just take five minutes.
You may not care, but my first record means a lot to me.
I do care. Honest.
Let's sit down.
So now what?
I's no good here. Let's try the other side.
Just tell me what this is about.
“Eglantine, in a frenzy of love...”
“There will always be girls who, asked to sit, immediately lie down.”
“The duchess was naked, the little prince dressed like Chaplin.”
“Not a sign of bra or panties, stark naked.”
“Her fleur-de-lys-patterned panties slipped to the floor.”
“She had long legs.”
“Early the next morning, I went to look in the little garden.”
“I've seen all kinds, hell, yes, but never one so easy.”
“First of all, I had no time to lose.
I stretched her out naked on my blanket
and her arms made the most charming -
“She weighed just 112 pounds,
but she had plump thighs of satiny flesh, eager for love and kisses.”
We'll be better over there.
Cassie and mineral water.
Nothing for me, thanks.
It's not that I want to. I need to.
When my wife died, [ learned one thing:
One can't just stop.
I have to start over from scratch.
I'm asking you to be patient.
I have to go. I'm late.
Just leave me alone Please, let me be
We're nothing but friends Can't you see?
Let me go on just being me
What I wanted to say is...
will you marry me?
Let's talk later. I'm in a rush.
Let me know if I have a chance
Of ever finding true romance
Let me know how long I'll wait
To meet the guy who'll share my fate
With you, all the girls cry
With you, I just don't know why
With you, I'll spend hours or more
Awaiting your footsteps at my door
Shall we get something to drink?
An Orangina, please.
Cassie with mineral water.
I'm sorry about earlier.
Isn't Sandie Shaw the greatest?
It makes me sick.
Carrying on like that. It gets on my nerves.
- I have an idea. - What?
Let's go. We've had enough of him for today.
Good idea.
You can pay.
See you at the pool?
How much is that?
A Coke, please.
Say, mister, want to take some pictures with me?
Pictures?
Photographs.
Sure. Why not?
If you want to see my breasts, it's 150 francs.
I've only got 100.
Okay. But you can't touch.
You must be kidding!
MAKE YOUR OWN RECORD 90 SECONDS FOR TWO FRANCS
I want to live with you.
You'll stand me up...
tonight.
The stars are falling.
Madeleine...
here we are in the big city.
Madeleine, imagine something written like this:
“Astor, the cigarette for the modern man.”
Remember, you'd just climbed out of the pool.
The same record was playing. Remember, remember!
December 5, 1965.
The stars.
I want to live with you!
Yes, a brunette in a bikini.
We'll play table football. Sure!
Look!
This is the airfield.
You put on your lipstick and hold me tight.
We've taken off.
“This is the control tower.
Boeing 737 calling Caravelle.
Paul calling Madeleine!”
I don't believe you anymore You've lied too much to me
You know darn well my address But never a letter did I see
You've hurt me more than I can say Why must it be this way?
I've waited for the echo of a more wonderful day
- The door! - Something just happened.
I hear steps coming up fast behind me.
Hi there. “Who would be running this late?”
So I turn around.
I see a guy who says, “Sorry. Did I scare you?
I'm so sorry. Excuse me. Forgive me.”
And I thought he'd go on.
I keep walking, and the footsteps get closer and closer.
And I see a guy who says, “Sorry. Forgive me.
I didn't mean to scare you.”
Very polite and all.
I look at him. It's not the same guy.
I keep walking.
Then all of a sudden...
for the third time...
he runs past me.
I feel relieved, but he stops a few yards ahead.
I look at him,
and I realize it isn't the same guy.
Not the first guy or the second. A third guy.
So I say, “You're not the same guy.”
He looks at me and says, “Maybe not.
But it doesn't matter.
What matters is that you feel you're being followed.
It's not the person.
But I feel bad.
I should have run faster. You'd have been scared.
I ran too slow. You weren't scared.”
So I say to him, “Listen, if this is a joke, it's sick.
A pretty bad joke.”
He looks at me and says, “Think this is a joke?
You really think it's a joke?”
But then —
Then what?
He says to me, “Then you don't get it.”
Will you come put up posters with me on Saturday?
Not Saturday. You know I can't.
Bring her along.
Hell, no.
You're making a mistake. But suit yourself.
You'll never find a personal solution.
There is none. You have to fight.
In the struggle you end up learning.
You accept too much. You mustn't do that.
I have a right to have girl troubles.
Girls, money —it's all simple when you come down to it.
It's a kind of movement,
a perpetual rebellion.
I can't accept everything you accept.
That's why I'm a union activist.
Yeah, I admire you.
Then come along.
I'll think about it.
What are you reading? - An article on Bob Dylan.
- Who's he? - He's a Vietnik, you know.
What's that?
It's a Yank word, a cross between “beatnik” and “Vietnam.”
Let me see.
“Who are you, Mr. Bob Dylan?”
Old man Hitler said it
And old man Stalin too
And now old man Johnson
There's only one thing to do
Nothing else to do but kill 'em
Madeleine never mentioned him? He sells 10,000 records a day.
Oh, her? I think I might dump her.
I'm seeing her tonight, in fact.
Why “in fact”?
I lost my room.
The old lady moved her nephew in.
Maybe Madeleine can put me up. They have two beds.
But there's that bitch Elisabeth.
I like her freckles.
You stand a better chance with Catherine.
Oh, yeah? Last week at the Rex cinema,
I asked her what kind of bra she wore.
- And? - She slapped me good!
She must wear “O'Yes” bras.
“O'Yes, what a pretty bust!”
Know what made Camille so popular?
No, I don't.
Give me your hand.
No, stick your finger out.
I don't know why I'm laughing.
Actually, I'm really down.
Because of Madeleine?
Ever notice that the word “masculine” contains “mask”
and “ass”?
- And the word “feminine”? - Nothing.
PURITY IS NOT
OF THIS WORLD
BUT
EVERY TEN YEARS, IT SHINES, IT FLASHES
Lonely and dreadful is the night after which day doesn't come.
American scientists succeeded in transmitting ideas
from one brain to another by injection.
Man's conscience doesn't determine his existence.
His social being determines his conscience.
We can suppose that, 20 years from now,
every citizen will wear a small electrical device
capable of arousing in the body
feelings of pleasure and sexual satisfaction.
Give us a TV set and a car,
but deliver us from liberty.
“Dear Marquis, how content you appear.
All things delight you. Nothing mars your cheer.
Can you in perfect honesty declare
that you've a right to be so debonair?”
My voice doesn't reflect my lowest and deepest thoughts.
That's not what Boileau says.
Yes, that struck me back in high school.
I can't explain it.
That happens to me a lot.
Where the hell are they?
Do you fall in love often?
May I speak frankly?
Of course.
You say that, but you don't mean it.
Sure I do.
You seem very forthright,
but I'm sure it's a defensive attitude.
Not that I care. It's Madeleine I'm interested in.
Still, it's a shame.
If you say so.
Let me ask you a question now.
What?
She asked me to ask you.
What?
She's afraid you'll get her pregnant.
What an idiot!
I'm old enough not to screw all the way.
Would you be afraid?
Not me. I use a thingamajig.
What's that?
What is it?
A gadget from America.
A guy from Air France brought one for Elisabeth.
Madeleine thinks it's indecent.
I can understand her being scared.
I'm sure she didn't ask you to ask me.
Ask her when she comes in.
Ask me what?
Nothing.
I'm No. 6 in Japan with “Pinball Champ.”
More!
Who's ahead of you?
The Beatles, France Gall, Bob Dylan —
I didn't know you were “a warm and sociable person.”
“She's in a world of her own.
She has fine features, high cheekbones, and white teeth.
Our star's delicacy, skin tone and bone structure
compete with her glowing smile and the impish gleam in her eye.
She demands authenticity, from herself and others.
Originality bores her, but her mind is lively.
She distrusts anything that isn't sincere and open.”
Don't make fun of me.
- Is that right? - Look, it's in France-Soir.
Good evening.
- Someone called for you. - Who?
I don't know. My memory's going...
- Tell her. Don't kid around. - Paul answered.
I told him to go blow and to lay off my old mother.
“What's that, Marquis? I don't have an old mother!”
He's gone nuts. Make him stop.
What's with you? Clear the table!
Oh, truly, Mrs. Smith, your daughters
Oh, truly, Mrs. Smith, your daughters have big noses
First a bath, then off to bed.
Not that awful music again!
Yes, that music.
Then I'm going.
Here it comes.
The orchestra is fantastic.
What's the matter?
I have a flea.
Got it!
No paper in the john?
Use the copy of Le Figaro on the chest.
What a thing to do to Mauriac.
When you think that Beaumarchais,
that prince of artists, coined the name “Figaro”...
and now it's emblematic of everything bourgeois.
It's enough to drive you to suicide.
- She must have seen Robert. - Morons!
You take Paul. You have more room.
No. Paul, you coming?
Do you mind?
No. Do what you want.
I'll have one last cigarette.
No, lights out!
Let me finish my chapter first.
Good night.
See you.
Move your behind, Madeleine.
Don't say “behind.” Say “bottom.”
Not “bottom.” “Buns.”
No, “butt.”
“Bum.”
“Heinie.”
- “Moons.” - “Keister.”
What about the genitals?
Oh! I'm going to sleep.
“Nuts and bolts.”
- Can I put my hand here? - Yes.
Give me a break!
I've always wondered —
Easy, Paul.
“Love, love
In the heart of man is solitude
And your face thrown back
Over the brow of my female nakedness
And my love is in the sea
In dreams
And here we are against death.”
SLEEP, YOU WHO CAN SHUT THE EYES OF PAIN,
CONCEAL ME A MOMENT FROM MYSELF
“All happens on Earth, that most dreadful of stars,
among men more cruel than stones.”
What are you doing?
Hold this string.
Hook it on that.
Ever hear of the Marquis de Sade?
Yes. He said...
“Yet another effort, Frenchmen, if you would be Republicans.”
A nation took up the sword of Turenne
and propelled across Europe the first army of justice.
And for one hundred years, this ragged army
made real the world's noblest dreams.
They dethroned 20 kings,
crossed the Alps and the Rhine!
What have you and / to do, Mr. Mitterrand,
with these Immense shadows that set Europe dancing
to the sound of liberty?
Are you Elsa?
DIALOGUE WITH A CONSUMER PRODUCT
- You're Madeleine's friend? - Yes, I know her well.
Where did you meet?
At the magazine. She was working there.
- What magazine? Miss 197 - That's right.
What do you do there?
It's sort of unusual. I was voted “Miss 19.”
Why all these questions? Explain yourself.
I'm a pollster for IFOP.
You've changed jobs?
I wasn't making enough at the magazine.
IFOP is a polling company.
I've always been into sociology.
Sure, it's fascinating.
Why do you want to be “Miss 197?
It's not that I want to be. I was lucky. I got chosen.
I don't really know why.
But I was chosen, so I'll be “Miss 19” for a year.
Why do you say 'lucky”?
It's marvelous, all the advantages it's brought me.
- What advantages? - I've won lots of great stuff.
I have a car. I've taken great trips all over.
What did you do before?
I was in school.
Studying what?
For my graduation exams.
And you didn't want to continue?
No. Once I was chosen,
everything changed.
You'd rather have a car than a diploma?
- I'm happy. I have both. - Oh, really?
Do you think socialism still has a future?
Socialism?
Is that what you asked?
I'm not qualified to answer. I know nothing about it.
What is socialism to you?
I won't try to explain. I'd get all mixed up.
For instance, if I were to ask...
“Would you rather live the American way or be a socialist?”
First, do you see a difference?
Sure, but to give you an answer —
What does “the American way” mean to you?
A very fast-paced life.
Very free.
Because I got the chance to visit the U.S. once
to see what it was like.
And what was it like?
It was extraordinary. Really great.
“Extraordinary”? Meaning what exactly?
Be specific.
Everything's different than in France.
You live, you work a lot...
but it's fast-paced.
You feel like you're always on the run,
like you're somebody, like you have lots to do.
Women play a big role there. That's pretty good.
Does the word 'reactionary” mean anything to you?
What?
What a question! I don't know.
Reactionary means being in opposition,
reacting against lots of things, not agreeing with...
what might happen.
ls it good or bad?
I's good. I don't like people who say “amen” to everything.
Does the Popular Front mean anything to you?
All these horrible questions!
What's so funny?
They're awful. I don't want to answer.
Do you want children?
Later. Not now.
Why not now?
Now I want to live, be independent,
do all kinds of things on my own.
So children are out.
Do you know what birth control is?
More or less.
It's a big topic now.
What is it, in practical terms?
Come on. Tell me.
You're making me uncomfortable. I don't want to answer.
I know what it is, but it's a pain to —
I'm polling French women.
You're a typical French woman.
Yes, of course.
Well, birth control is —
Do you know practical ways to avoid having kids?
There are lots. I'd feel awkward naming them.
Just name one or two.
The pill, for example, not to use a more specific term.
Or a diaphragm.
Aren't there other things besides pills?
I just said a diaphragm.
Do you fall in love often?
Absolutely not.
You don't like being in love?
Sure, but you don't go around trying to fall in love.
You fall in love without knowing why.
And when you do, it's great.
It doesn't happen every other week.
But when you do —
Can you tell me where wars are going on now?
If I thought about it, sure, but I'm not interested.
You don't know where wars are going on?
No, I don't.
You coming?
She'll be here in 15 minutes.
If she agrees to play the Olympia, I'll Kill her.
You're crazy.
No, I'll kill her. I think it's disgusting.
Then we'll talk about something else.
You work it out with Madeleine.
Still thinking about that?
No, I'm thinking about my father.
It's the mashed potatoes.
What?
We were all eating mashed potatoes with my dad once.
Suddenly Dad stopped eating and said...
“I've got it!”
My sister said, “Got what?”
Dad had discovered why the earth revolved around the sun.
Well, Galileo was the first to discover it.
But Dad, all of a sudden, just like that,
rediscovered why the earth revolved around the sun.
Just like Galileo must have done.
So he stopped eating his potatoes and said, “I've got it!”
It was great.
That's just what I said to him...
and I got the potatoes right in my face.
You know I saw that guy from Saturday again.
What guy?
That guy we went to the country with.
No, I didn't know about that.
Madeleine didn't tell you we went out to the country?
You don't remember. You were angry Monday.
I was angry about the book.
Really?
I thought that's what it was.
What?
Nothing. You'll feel bad.
What? Tell me.
Nothing.
The guy wanted to do it again this weekend.
He saw you with me and wanted to bring his wife.
Poor Paul.
Why?
We're not your type of girls. You'll always be unhappy.
Why the hell should you care?
I repeat: Why the hell should you care?
I was just saying.
Anyway, I don't care. Madeleine's pregnant.
She's putting you on. I know her.
I don't think you know her all that well.
She takes her temperature on the sly.
She doesn't sleep with you just any time.
Hi.
- We started without you. - How are you?
I'm all out of breath.
I've been running. - Doesn't look like it.
Here, feel.
Don't mind me.
Come on. He's entitled.
I ran into Sylvie at the studio.
She gave me an autographed copy of her record.
So I'm giving it to you.
Here.
Since you're not very modern —
I'd have preferred Bach. The Concerto in D.
Bach.
Mind if I wait until you're done?
That woman over there —
I think I know her.
It's the woman in the café who shot her husband.
Really? Doesn't look like her.
- How much have you got? - And she's turning a trick.
Not that much.
I have to save some money.
I'd like to see the chateaux of the Loire.
How much can you give me exactly? 20,000730,0007
That's too much.
How much you got on you?
Not much.
Why? You have different prices?
Depends what you want me to do.
Hold on. I'll work it out.
Are you German?
Yes.
I get taken for German too sometimes.
I'm not French.
And I hate the Germans.
Really? Why?
Because my parents died in Germany.
Where?
Never heard of the concentration camps?
Why do you say that?
It's always the same. I'm sick of it.
When will people learn to make distinctions?
I was 10 then. So were you, honey.
You don't have to get familiar.
Maybe you were 10, but your father wasn't.
I dissociate myself from my father.
Must be strange turning 50 tricks a day.
Not 50. Two or three is already a lot.
No! In poor neighborhoods, on weekends, as many as 110.
So who's to blame?
Are you laughing to yourself?
Laughing to myself makes me laugh.
She looks like Brigitte Bardot.
I marked the page.
The reason it's not working ls you lake it too slow.
Vauthier wrote “quickly” here.
“I love all that's false, dishonest, fraudulent, devious,
whatever gives caresses, gives pleasure and deadens.
I love what's false, false, false!”
The delivery should be quicker.
Same goes for the accident, when you say —
When you run over the guy?
That's no good either. The rhythm is wrong.
The stage direction is “convulsively.”
“He ran out in front of my car.”
“Did you run over him or not?” “A lamentable accident.”
What do I say then? “One less fool.”
Stage direction, “quickly.”
“He should have been careful.
When you lose a war, play up to the victors.”
Same with the visit to the housing projects.
It says “with furious enthusiasm.”
“A memory of prodigious innovation will remain.”
The play is called The Prodigies for a reason.
And Gilly says “ardently”...
“...a vast region, built up by hand,
with nothing but repetition, the same little box.”
I think now that you've performed it,
you should forget it completely.
Act as if you're reading it for the first time.
Forget you've rehearsed it. Read it any old way.
I'll try.
“It was constructed. It was perverse.
There was no one.
Man had withdrawn, leaving traces of his deeds.
There was nothing, nothing at all.
We were lost, happy to desire nothing once more.”
This way, sir.
If I feel like it.
Have change for a hundred?
- No, sir. - Me neither.
What are you doing? Come sit here.
Okay, okay!
I gotta pee. Tell me how it starts.
It's going to be subtitled.
We get cheated when it's dubbed.
Beat it, asshole!
DOWN WITH THE REPUBLIC OF COWARDS
Stop clowning around, Paul.
Make up your minds.
You dummy, I love you.
- What did she say? - I don't know.
Cut out the necking!
Can it, Trotskyite!
- Shit! It's the wrong aspect ratio. - So?
I'm gonna complain.
The projection room?
Up there.
“The aperture must be for a 1.65 or 1.75 aspect ratio,
as decided during the film's shooting.
The 1.85 format is a limit
that must not be exceeded,
per the international recommendation of the ISO.”
Got that? Good!
I realize we can control our ideas, which are nothing,
but not our emotions, which are everything.
Fill me in.
It's a man and a woman in a foreign city who —
Let's go. This is stupid.
I want to see it.
Come on, let's go.
Sex scenes make me sick.
Speak for yourself.
Let's split.
- You wanna stay? - Yeah, I'm staying.
We went to the movies often.
The screen would light up, and we'd feel a thrill.
But Madeleine and I
were usually disappointed.
But Madeleine and I
were usually disappointed.
The images were dated and jumpy.
Marilyn Monroe had aged badly.
We felt sad.
It wasn't the movie of our dreams.
It wasn't that total film each of us carried around inside.
That film we'd have liked to make,
or perhaps more secretly, that we'd have liked to live.
Well?
Why is it so hard for you to talk?
The state prevents workers from going to college.
Really? Why?
It's afraid, So it keeps them bogged down.
Bogged down?
Yes, in financial problems.
It's hard to say what you want if you're not used to it.
What did you want to tell me on the Rue de Vaugirard?
Why are you in love with Paul and not with me?
I'm not in love with Paul! Madeleine is.
Yeah, sure. Why?
I don't like to talk about it.
Why not?
Because. It's none of your business.
Don't you like to go out with guys?
Sure. Depends on the guy.
You going out with anyone now?
None of your business.
Where would you take me tonight?
To the movies.
- You take girls to the movies often? - Once in a while.
What kind of girls do you like?
Girls a bit different from you.
What's the guy you're going out with like?
I'm not going out with anyone in particular.
- So you sleep around? - I don't sleep around.
That's what you just said.
It certainly is not!
I said I wasn't going out with anyone in particular.
“Going out” doesn't mean “going to bed.”
You have any opinions about democracy?
Not particularly.
Are you —
Am I?
Are you interested in what goes on around you?
Sure. But it depends.
Politics don't interest me, but there are other things that do.
Such as?
I don't know.
Nothing comes to mind, but lots of things.
Such as?
I don't know! It depends.
If an article in the paper interests me, I read it.
But others I skip.
- You hate to be bored. - That's right.
Why won't you talk about yourself?
I don't see the point. It's none of your business.
I don't see why I should talk about you — I mean me.
It's my business.
You ever go with a hooker?
Sometimes.
When you can't find a date?
It's not because I can't find a date.
I don't know.
I like hookers for lots of reasons.
- What do they cost? - I never pay.
I don't think I can go out with you.
You prefer Paul?
I don't go out with Paul!
I saw you give him a funny look. You're in love with him.
Stop harping on that! I said I'm not!
You in love with anyone now?
No. Why?
No kidding?
Do I have a better figure than Madeleine?
No, I prefer Madeleine physically.
Madeleine told me she showed you her breasts.
I don't remember.
That's not true.
Yes, it is.
Did she show them to Paul?
You'd rather talk about Paul?
I said no. Change the subject.
You don't like dating guys”?
Sure. Depends on the guy.
What kind of guys interest you?
No particular kind. I can tell right away.
- Johnny Hallyday? - No!
- De Gaulle? - Not him either.
Who then? American movie stars?
Before Paul introduced us,
I think I saw you in a bar once in Montparnasse.
Maybe. I go to bars in Montparnasse a lot.
What do you do there?
I have lots of friends there. I talk, play pinball.
Don't you like talking about yourself?
Why not?
Because it's none of your business.
- But it's your business? - Yes. But not yours.
Why don't you talk about yourself?
Because it's none of your business.
I want to know what you think because I love you.
Maybe it's not mutual, so you're being selfish.
Do you ever sleep with guys?
No. Why?
Never?
None of your business!
- You've never had sex? - That's none of your business!
What's that paper?
It's for the cell meeting tonight.
- What's it about? - The revolution.
Why are some workers called “skilled laborers”
while civil servants and actors aren't?
I explain that.
Skilled workers are divided into three categories.
I'm part of the third.
I'm capable of executing a complete revolution.
What's a complete revolution?
For example: “You take a complex piece,
a complex mechanical part.
You're given the raw material and the blueprint,
which shows you the finished product.
There's no time to lose. There's a tight deadline.
It takes extraordinary precision
in both thought and action.
You must judge at a glance how to go about it,
including each successive step.
You picture it all in your mind,
even before you set to work.
You pick up the part,
already knowing the steps required to finish it.”
“While working, your mind is busy envisioning the outcome.
You've chosen your tools and planned all the phases.
That's what's called a revolution, no play on words intended.
But it embodies the revolutionary spirit.”
Yes, that's it.
THIS FILM COULD BE CALLED
THE CHILDREN OF MARX AND COCA-COLA
LET THEM UNDERSTAND WHO WILL
- Got a light? - Yeah.
My matches! - Silence!
- Kiss the kids for me. - My matches.
My matches!
Let this poor Christ by.
Come on.
I want to see what he's up to.
He just poured gasoline on himself and lit a match!
It can't be! He'd have screamed. I didn't hear anything.
You always make things up.
He taped his mouth shut so he couldn't scream.
Why outside the American Hospital?
He left a note. Go see for yourself!
Well?
What did it say? - “'Peace in Vietnam.” He's dead.
Damn/
If you kill one man, you're a murderer.
If you kill millions, you're a conqueror.
If you kill them all, you're God.
I don't believe in God.
We'll find out.
- You love Madeleine? - Don't start that again!
It's “First Tell Me Your Name.”
First tell me your name
I'll tell you mine
Let's go far away from here
We'll talk further on
I don't want anyone to know
That I met you
I don't want anyone to say
That you kissed me
What are you doing there? Get out of here.
Careful with your Ps.
I can't hear my voice clearly. Too much echo.
Madeleine, follow my beat.
Last take.
But I'm tired. I'm getting fed up.
Not bad, Madeleine. So-so.
Did you like it? Was it okay?
Can we hear it?
You can stop it. Let's redo it tomorrow.
I don't like my voice there. - Whatever you say.
Tomorrow at 3:007?
- Okay. - Fine.
See you.
Be good.
- There's a radio guy outside. - Swell.
Madeleine Zimmer?
Were you recording? Did it go well?
You from the radio? Let me talk to my assistant.
- Paul, get the car. - What car?
- Don't act dumb. - Yes, miss.
Where do I find a car?
You said you were a whiz kid. So prove it.
Shut up!
I'll make a call.
This second single —
This second single is “First Tell Me Your Name.”
Any favorite singers?
The Beatles, and in classical music, Bach.
Bach is certainly very classical, but nothing like your songs.
They're not mutually exclusive.
- You think? - I do.
You have any distinguishing traits?
Well, I hardly ever wear makeup.
As for clothes, you see how I'm dressed.
Flat shoes and a skirt.
- The young look. You like that? - I love it.
Along highways in the U.S. I saw huge billboards saying...
“Join the Pepsi Generation.”
Have you joined? - I love Pepsi-Cola!
- Really? - Yes.
- See you for your third single? - Sure.
Let's hurry. We"ll be late.
You're not waiting for the car?
- What car? - The car!
- You stole one? - I doubt that.
You're not Pierrot le Fou. He stole cars for his women!
What? I called the War Ministry.
“This is General Doinel. Where the hell's my car?
It's been half an hour!” “Yes, sir.”
But it might not work.
Robert and I already tried it on the Interior Ministry.
Here it is.
Long live the French army!
From January to March, I continued doing opinion polls.
Why don't vacuum cleaners sell?
Do you like cheese in tubes? Do you read a lot?
What is 'management”? Do you like poetry?
Winter sports? Short skirts?
How do you react to an accident?
If your lover left you for a black person, would you mind?
Are you aware of the famine in India?
Do you know what a Communist is?
Do you use birth control pills
or a thing in your vagina?
Where do you live?
What's your salary?
Why are society women more often frigid than factory girls?
Are you aware of the Iraqi-Kurdish war?
Gradually, over those three months,
I came to realize that these questions did not reflect
but instead betrayed and deformed the collective mentality.
My lack of objectivity, even on an unconscious level,
tended to provoke
a predictable lack of sincerity in those I was polling.
I unwittingly deceived them and was deceived by them. Why?
Probably because polls and surveys quickly veer from their true goal —
the observation of behavior —
and instead insidiously aim
for value judgments.
I discovered that the questions I'd ask any French person
expressed an ideology
that reflects not present mores but those of the past.
So I had to be on my guard.
Some notions gathered at random served as guidelines.
“A philosopher posits his conscience against opinion.”
“To have a conscience ls to be open to the world.”
“To be faithful is to act
as if time didn't exist.”
“Wisdom would be to see life, truly see It.
That would be wisdom.”
What happened?
His mother left him some money,
and he bought an apartment.
At first we didn't believe it,
but when Elisabeth and Madeleine went to see it,
they had to believe him.
It was in a high-rise going up
in a wealthy suburb.
They discussed the layout of the rooms:
kitchen, dining room, etc.
I think they started arguing. Elisabeth told me that.
Because Madeleine wanted her to live with them,
and Paul was against it.
I think he wanted to take some pictures.
He must have backed up too far,
and he fell.
It couldn't have been suicide.
Just a stupid accident.
Next.
Your turn.
Are you Madeleine Zimmer?
What happened?
It's just like Catherine said.
That's how it happened.
Your friend Elisabeth Choquet said you were pregnant.
What will you do?
I don't know.
I'm not sure.
Elisabeth suggested using a curtain rod.
I'm not sure.