All language subtitles for L39N4-Y121205-QOLF

Year 1993

Same, please.

- Then she will come.
- I don't know.

South America can't be worse than Africa.

I'm sure about it.

Rest assured, I'm not going to be a whore.

Here or elsewhere, nothing changes.

- What?
- Nothing.

I know, I look like shit.

I stink. I had to run to come here.

In high school I was really handsome.
Do you believe me?

I thought I was ugly.

With everything they said
about me, I felt bad.

The school was hell with those idiots.

They treated me like a scabby
dog and that's how I felt.

In reality, I was handsome.

Among the few boys I knew, I was the
only one who didn't want to be a whore.

Becoming a whore was their dream.
For women.

I haven't become a whore.

What?

Nothing.

- Are you taking me home?
- No.

I know you.

Where is your mother's car?

Over there, towards Odéon.

Sure?
We come from there.

No?

You're a loser.

It will come back to my mind...

You wanted to come with me.

Come.

You can also leave.

Go home.

Get out of here.

Get out of here! Do you like being with
me or are you spying on me?

- Just because I love you.
- Stop that.

It sounds disgusting from your mouth.

Whatever.

We met five years ago.

And as you say, we have been seeing each
other for three years now and again.

If I had to choose now, you
could be the man of my life.

You don't need me like I need you.

Maybe that imbalance pleases me.

I would rather see you happy, even
far from me, than bad at my side.

You taught me what goodness is.

"Goodness"? Damn it, Jacques!

Yes, goodness!

I am good when I am with you.

With others I spread evil.
I can't help it.

Come on.

See you.

I'm waiting for your call.

Come on, I'll give you a lift.

Come.

- Are you alone?
- Of course.

Otherwise I would have told you.

Was he disappointing?

Not at all.
It was a nice evening.

He's with friends.
He might come later.

No, he won't, but that's all right.

- Is Loulou asleep?
- I didn't hear him

- Does he really love you?
- You're crazy.

If you don't wonder,

you wait for men who don't
even know your name.

- He knows it.
- What about the rest?

Did he read one of your novels?

No, and that's a chance.

Of course.

Shall we smoke something?

I am going upstairs.
I still have to write this article.

- What is it about?
- An interview with an actress...

- Who?
- Who cares?

Géraldine Pailhas.

I love her. Let me read it.

Heroin smoking, okay, but
hashish I fall asleep.

- I don't have that.
- I still have.

- Do you have aluminum foil?
- Yes.

Wait...

The creditors are after me.

I have to find a job and quickly.

My newspaper will not want to help you.

Not like you last chased them.

I don't want to work for snobs.

I'm not looking for a thinking.

Secretarial work or something.

Receptionist.

Receptionist is good.

But not easy to find.

Receptionists work at the newspaper.

One now works freelance.

I think she is now on
the Business service.

For what wage?

6,000 francs. Minimum wage.

That's reasonable.

Why do you go out and eat with
Jean-Marie if you are broke?

Even poor, I stay
above my class.

Is your father not coming
to Paris next week?

Yes. Asshole.

Even though he fills
my well, I still can't

afford a posh bank.

35 years and I have been sentenced to Ikea.

I can't buy anything better.

Would it be better with a nice couch?

You understand what I mean.

Not always.

Is it your father's fault if
you still depends on him?

I wonder.

I didn't mean that as an attack.

I would not bet on it...

But you're right.
It's not my business.

This is Jacques Tondelli.
Leave a message.

It's me again.

It's late, but I had
hoped you would call.

I tried at 21:00.

I wanted to talk to
you, but you're busy.

Or you're on the move.

Bad luck.

I'm in bad shape, Jacques.

It's the end...

It sucks to say it.

But my legs have failed.

I walk like an old man.

I got rid of my high heels.
So it's hopeless.

Anyway

I'm not going to cry on your device.

I have to ask you for a favor.

Tomorrow I will be admitted to the
hospital. A few days, they say.

But after that...

I don't know where to go.

Thierry doesn't want to see me anymore.

I keep messing up.

Going back to my parents in Clermont...

I don’t like the idea.
I don't want to die there.

Maybe I could come and stay
stay with you from time to time.

Except if it bothers.

I would understand that.

I'm ashamed to ask you.

I can't ask Thierry anything more.

I talk too much.

Kisses.

I hope I'll see you tomorrow.

It was Marco, but you knew that.

Nothing worse to do.

I know.

- What are you doing there?
- I have to pee.

You don't pee at one
o'clock in the morning.

Go back to your room.

I'm going to finish my article.

- Don't call me.
- I know.

- I wish you were sleeping here tonight.
- No way, madam.

- Why not?
- You don't have a single novel.

THE CATS BOOK

Hold on.

"How do you live with your cat?"

Are you crazy?

You could have hurt me.

- Leave me alone.
- Sorry.

I say we stay here tonight.

I don't intend to stay here.

"The Gods are thirsty".
Damn!

I mean it, Arthur.

I want to spend the night with you.

But I want to spend it with myself.

- You're a loser.
- Perhaps.

Can you hurry?
The others are already there.

Come on, hurry up!

The other eye.
You look like a one-eyed panda.

What are your intentions?

- My intentions are clear.
- I didn't ask you anything.

- A few kisses...
- I did not ask you anything!

The few kisses at dawn are not enough.

Are we in love or not?

Okay, okay.

We are not in love, so
we shouldn't french kiss.

Can I sign a waiver somewhere?

- Don't play dumb...
- What?

- Is he going to hit?
- I could.

We stay here tonight.

Maybe the rest of our lives, honey.

Give me those keys.

- How old are you?
- Careful...

- Got them.
- Do you?

Where were you?
We've been looking for you everywhere.

I got lost.

I kissed an Amandine tonight.
It was the first time.

Where will we be within 10 years?

I will be a history teacher.

And you? No idea.

We won't become anything.

- I heated up the cassoulet.
- Awesome.

What is that?

Pierre, I'm going for a walk.

Don't worry.

- Thanks.
- Keys on the board, please.

Is the room as desired?

Yes thank you.

The theater is at 100 meters.

They are working on the technique.
They said you could come for that.

As planned. Forward.

Honestly, the hotel is
barely decent.

I came all the way here
and you're putting me here.

- You don't like the room?
- Of course not!

How could I like it. It's creepy.

The theater always sends
the authors there.

Authors?

You would never let Vinaver
or Yasmina Reza stay there.

It's not your fault, but
I'm losing my time here.

I'm not here for my pleasure.

I'm invited, but I
also have work to do.

And my room stinks of bleach.

- It's here, is it not?
- The entrance is there.

I won't go, I'm gonna blow up.

Can't I slip in?

Yes.

Will you let me in?

And you can tell them...

whatever you want.

Look at the movie.

Move aside.

Is it good?

Yes a bit...

It looks like a picture book.

Then you better get away.

I considered that before you came.

- Are you staying for me?
- Yes.

Life involves more
surprises than movies.

Especially this one.

That's what you’re telling strangers?

I spoke out of turn.

Life is more stupid than films.

Yes, films shouldn't have doubt
about their stupid story.

Shh.

How old are you?

22.

And who are you?

I like to read.

I see.

First of all

I hate your generation because
they are more handsome than we were.

You won't get anywhere with flattery.

No, I mean it.

I'm mad at you.

But you might be disappointed
by the light of day.

Are we leaving?

No, you stay.

It's a good movie.
It would be stupid to don't see it.

But if you feel like it,

around 11 pm,

and if you have nothing better to do,

Then come to the theater, and
we will see each other again.

Are you not coming to the restaurant?

I have to work for another hour or two.

- On what?
- Always the same novel.

Do we have breakfast together tomorrow?

Guys, Jacques is leaving.

Give me a kiss.

- See you soon.
- Ciao.

- Congrats.
- Are you really not staying?

Go away.
Out of my eyes.

Enjoy your meal!

For the hotel you have to
go to the avenue Janvier...

I just have to follow
the smell of bleach.

- At least it's clean.
- Good evening.

You didn't go with the others?

No, I'm tired.

How do you feel?

I'm okay.

Did you know that I had jaundice?

Actually hepatitis.
Very serious.

- Where is your hotel?
- That way.

I went home for my birthday.

I had a fever, but I
had to feel good.

In order to give me courage,
I drank like a skunk.

Champagne, white wine, red...

I stuffed myself with oysters,
vol-Au-vent, cheese, rum cakes...

Mommy was thrilled.
I didn't speak about politics

and ate my food.
The perfect birthday.

The night I threw all of it up.

I fainted in the bathroom
and cut my elbow.

Sutures on the pitch.

And the diagnosis: hepatitis.

I had to spend the night there.
A nightmare.

I was in a room with homeless
people, a child in a steel lung...

It was hell and then I thought about you.
I said to myself:

"Like Jacques, I pay
for my mistakes."

I got a sermon about my weight.

With you that must be the
number of your partners.

It was inhuman.

Only you can understand
something like that.

- Are you cured?
- Yes, it's over.

It was nine weeks ago.

I think so...

No, actually it was a long time ago.

It was three months ago.

My bad liver can still bother me.

A rum cake and here we
go, to the urgency room.

You can eat anything with your aids.

We are there, this is my hotel.

You look good however.

I have to confess to you that I quit.

I participated in the casting,
but I will not be back.

Do the others already know?

Forget about the others.
I wanted to tell you personally.

- Are you mad?
- No.

Anyway, I'm sure you are.
You are so polite.

The polite Mr. Aids.

You could be Mr. Aids "I
fuck you in the ass".

I mean, Mr. Aids "Screw you"...

Do I get annoying?
I am gone.

See you.

Rest well.
And write a new play for me.

- I will do that.
- Something dramatic.

Take care of yourself.

- Are you taking me upstairs?
- No.

I will not put you trough that.

May I?

We can go to my flat.

My roommate will not be back yet.

Okay, I'm following you.

It's on the edge of town.

I am still running well,
given my condition.

- Welcome.
- Very nice.

Don't exaggerate.

Over here.

Damn!

- What?
- Quiet.

They came back to make dinner.

Who are they?

No idea.
Pierre, my roommate and...

I can't get you into my
room without being seen.

OK.

Do we give up?

Do you want to give up?

Would you rather not spend
time with your friends?

I see them every day.

I have a car.

What for?

Every weekend I go to
my mother's, to the sea.

Are we going there?

No, we can go somewhere else.

And ending making out on a parking lot?

We can go to Mont Saint-Michel.

We are there in one hour and a half.

It's still early. We leave,

we talk, we listen to music,

sleep in the car...

and at dawn we look at the
sunrise in each other's arms.

Are you serious?

Don't you like Mont Saint-Michel?

No idea.
I have never been there.

But to see the sun rise

in the arms of a Breton student

might be something too sentimental for me.

You're actually not attracted to me?

Of course I am, you're getting it wrong.

Will you stop being so formal?

Perhaps.

It reminds me I'm not the same age and
I have to be vigilant.

You're taking advantage of my condition.

Come here.

No smoking in my room.

What do you do for a living?

I thought you knew that.

You can do a lot in a theater.

You said that you liked to read.

Then what?

Nothing.

What do you do for a living?

I'm rushing towards my own destruction

- No really.
- For real.

I'm actually a writer.

My name is Jacques Tondelli.

For real?

I heard about you, but
I have never read anything from you.

And I thought I met a fan.

You can sometimes be mistaken.

I rarely read living writers.

You won't have to wait much longer.

Are you Jacques Tondelli?

Yes.

That's funny.

Not really.
We have to order.

Two sandwiches with fries and...

A beer?

- Yes.
- Two, please.

Thank you.

I'm...

a boy who moved to Paris...

from Meurthe-et-Moselle.

I'm a boy who was willing
to sleep with everyone

who could help with his career.

But there were not so many.

I'm a boy who often
went out at night...

A boy who was not
loved by his parents,

his sister or his brother.

I am no longer a boy, but a man
who still thinks he's a boy.

A man who survived a pneumocystosis.

A man who knows why he is
afraid of endoscopies.

A man who thinks that he won't ever
again have someone in his life.

And don't complain about that.

But that man thinks

that he will return after the war

for another life after this one,

where he will be the same,
but with even more charm

and in which he will walk more
determinedly through the streets at night.

What about you?

I am too young to
remember what I am.

You don't respect the rules,

Mr. Arthur.

I am a boy of 15 who was woken
up at 5 am on a Saturday

in his boarding school

and was taken to a residential area

60 km away.

He felt completely lost

until he saw about twenty cars standing
in front of his parental home.

What happened?

My father had just died

on the road between Rostrenen and Carhaix.

I returned to the
school in Carhaix.

I took that road from school
to home for three years.

I was hoping for three years

that my father would crawl out
of a ditch

and would take me away.

But no.

He stayed dead.

You live in the 13th district?

Is that in the north?

No.

I share an answering
machine, be elliptical.

Elliptical, I can.

OK...

Okay okay okay.

Not the last one...

- So nothing?
- Nothing.

Go home.

I'm not tired yet.

I have to get up early tomorrow.

You're never going to call me for sure?

I think I will.

Go ahead, get out.

Are you going to write me too?

I'm going in now.

I'll hang around here,
just in case you change your mind.

My room is hardly big enough for me.

I can make myself very small.

I believe that.

- Good night.
- Good night. It's late.

Good night over there.

I am gone.

Loulou, I asked you half an hour of rest.

It's me.
I forgot my pills.

Come in.

It's not a trick to see your dick.

I'm not looking.

Idiot.
Are you sure they are here?

They are mine.

Look.
Isn't it that box?

Up there?

What a stupid bitch.

- Wait...
- No leave it.

Damn...

- Is it annoying if I crash here on your carpet?
- No.

Do I ask Loulou to bring
your breakfast here?

- I haven't had a bath since autumn.
- For real?

- Yes.
- Come here.

No, I'm fine here.

Dirty, on your bath carpet.

- Come here.
- No!

Come on!

- Don't! Don't pull!
- Come on!

Come on.

That hurts.

Better now?

Loulou, can you close
the door, please?

I want to make your life easier.

That's a difficult task.

Especially for you.

What do you mean?

It's not your specialty.

You are better at complicating.

- You think?
- Yes.

But you are sweet.

You are just a "complex person".

Do you mean that I made our
relationship difficult?

- You've got guts.
- No

I haven't wondered such
questions for a long time.

"made our relationship difficult..."

You may not realize it,

and without wanting to hurt
you, but you've hurt me badly.

You were strong.

You still are.

What made me more difficult?

Where does this mania
for talking to me this way come from?

Why do you always want to talk?

When we were together, you
found me unworthy to speak.

And when you did,
you pulled a face.

- You impressed me.
- No.

You always thought I was a bitch.

And you were right.

A little...

You didn't want to talk,
fucking was enough.

I was crazy for you.

Hard, you mean.

Come on.

Soon we will both be hard.

- Enjoy it.
- Stop!

It is too late to die young.

Our schedule is shitty.

Have you thought about how you want it?

Did you write it down?

No.

- I'm going to do it.
- Of course.

Don't let them bury me in Clermont.

If you don't write
it down, they will decide.

Don't tell them.

If you die in a hospital,
we'll have to.

Then you'll have to leave before

before the last stay in hospital.

Needs a good timing.

You have what you need?

- And you?
- Yes.

Don't use it before me.

We'll see.

I don't see why you should be first.

You have Loulou.
You have to do it for him.

This bathtub conversation was fun...

I'm sure you will hold it.

You will heal.

The first French jerk
that thought he would die,

but it did not.

Will the nation thank me?

I don't think so.

They want us to go quietly.

It won't change if
we continue to live.

- I'm cold.
- Here, some water.

- No.
- It will heat you up.

- This is fun.
- I'm cold.

- It's fun.
- No, it's not. I'm cold.

Come on.

- This is going to be hell.
- Wait.

I'll carefully help you to sit.

Hold on to the edge.

- I can do it alone.
- No, let's do it.

My God...

I'm going out first.

- Some coffee?
- A little.

You said you were not in love.

We are not.

I do, a little.

- Are you in love with him?
- Yes.

- But not you?
- No.

I fill pain everywhere.
I can't be in love anymore.

No one.

I just want to close my
eyes and find peace.

I don't understand.

You said you came to live here as a friend.

- Indeed. And that's the way it is.
- Liar.

Don't listen to him.

He can't admit that he needs us.

- Why are not you in love with Daddy?
- Why?

I am in love, but
not with your dad.

I am in love with Thierry.

You've already seen him, haven't you?

- He is cool.
- Yes, that's him.

I go back to his and
then you have your room.

Who says he wants you back?

He told me.

I'll leave you alone.

When would you have announced it?

Announced it?

I'm telling you now.

I'll be gone within a few days.

You don't have to wait.

He can pick you up today.
It's Sunday.

He is not here this weekend.

Ah, so this is a hotel here.

We give you food, we wash you,
put you in bed. Is that so?

I didn't thank you enough?

I don't need that.

- I'm in the living room.
- OK.

I want respect.

Yes, respect.

You could have told me.
Did you call him?

- Yes, he came by.
- Here?

He brought me clean clothes.

That guy was here in my house?

Loulou!

- Come.
- I'm here.

We're going to eat with your mom.

Is your book bag ready?

All your stuff?

You also stay with her.

We see each other Tuesday and Thursday.

I take my book for sciences...

I don't need to know your timetable.

Hurry up, we leave now.

Calm down!

Hurry.

I don't think we'll see each other again.

You are a great child.

- You will become...
- Cut the crap.

Come.

See you.

Hello, Eugénie.

Loulou, we are already too late.

Help me.

Thank you.

- Are we taking him?
- It's your car.

Hello.

- I'm going to Rennes.
- Get in.

See if there is room in the trunk.

"Get in..."

Turn me off before the Boy
Scout gets out, okay?

Promised.

You broke my record:
less than 5 minutes.

Sorry, we couldn't go faster.

- Where do you live?
- The campus of Villejean.

Bad luck...

I'm Stéphane. And you?

- Arthur.
- Nadine.

Anastasia.

What do you study?

Psychology.
Flower arranging and divination.

Pharmacy.

And you, Arthur?

It has been so long since I went
to class that I have forgotten.

Are you not tired of bragging?

- Are you from Loudéac?
- Yes.

I work in the summer camp.

The adventure camp in Binic?

Did you go there as a child?

My sister was a
supervisor 10 years ago.

Françoise Cloarec.

I don't recall that name.
I am the director.

Are not you too young for that?

You must be 21.

It's my second year.

It is fascinating, working with children.

Yes, it's fascinating.

It's playful.

- Do you need my eyes?
- What?

- Don't mind me.
- What?

- You think I don't see what's happening here?
- I've done nothing.

I am not retarded.

- Do you want a towel?
- No, it's okay.

I'm going to freshen me up.

Stay down.

- Can I answer?
- Go ahead.

Hey. It is strange to hear you.

- Am I interrupting?
- I had given up all hope.

I have been busy.

Did you get my postcards?

Yes thank you.
Sorry I didn't reply.

There is somebody. Can I call back?

- Who is it?
- Someone I just met.

- And already screwed him?
- Perhaps...

- Do you think you are in love?
- Could be.

You are ultrasentimental.

I know with who I have to deal with.
Can I call back?

What does he look like?

Blond.

A "Maxim's"?

Not a "Wrong Blond" at least?

I don't understand anything.

Don't know the difference between
a "Maxim's" and a "Wrong Blond",

a "Whitman" or a "Vondelpark"?

- For real?
- For real.

What do you read that you know so little?

Shall I explain it or do you have
to go to your undefined blonde guy?

You have five minutes.

Okay, I guess your blond boy
is not a "Maxim's".

Someone who seems ideal at first sight,

which is welcomed
without prior checking.

"Try Maxim's," said Isherwood,
who loved such illusions.

I'm young, remember?

Why could young and illusion
not go together? Anyway...

You don't want Ginsberg's
definition of a "Whitman" either.

He remembered his previous lovers and went
back to his former relationships,

and he could link them
to Walt Whitman's lover.

- Do you know Walt Whitman?
- No. This is humiliating.

I have to fill your library, kitten.
Walt Whitman,

the first great American poet.

Someone like Rimbaud in France.

No.
A "Rimbaud" is not a "Whitman".

Do you have a minute?

Are you still there?

A "Whitman" is widespread.

You soon realize that
he slept with everyone.

A widespread homosexual orgy
that goes back to Adam and Eve.

- Write down everything?
- Yes really.

Idiot.

Now, a rarer specimen,

which I prefer, admittedly,
the "Vondelpark".

Named after examples that I
met in the Amsterdam park.

- Will you take me there someday?
- Concentrate, please.

He looks like a
survivor from the 70s,

A Scandinavian type?

He's blond with a nice ass.

Blondness is not enough.

The "Vondelpark" is not a fashion doll.

He has a slightly corrupt,
unperturbed appearance.

A confused side.

He is rather an ordinary Breton
than a superficial Scandinavian.

Then it's a "Wrong Blond",

according to Auden's definition
of Chester Kallmann in 1939.

I pretend you know Auden.

Of course I know him.

Auden had become fond of a blonde
when he arrived in America.

One Walter Miller.

Miller worked for a literary magazine
with another blonde, Chester.

Chester contacted Auden
for an interview.

Auden gave him an appointment
in the hope that he would come

with the coveted Miller.

When the blond Chester came alone,

Auden, disappointed, went

to Isherwood in the next room,

they were roommates,

and whispered:

"It's the wrong blonde."

And as a good biographer would say:

Chester would be the only
possible blonde for Auden.

I understand.

"Maxim's", a dream image. "Whitman",
the man who does it with everyone.

- "Vondel", not for others, ideal for you.
- Exactly.

And the "Wrong Blond", a
thunder in clear skies.

This is globally it, young man.

What am I to you?

Clearly a "Whitman".

A slut?

It hurts that you think so.

What else should I think?

You hardly know me.

Prove me that I am wrong about you.

I have to go.

No, get rid of your useless
blonde and call me.

Hello, Jacques.
I hope you'll get trough it.

Bad news?

Quite.

Shall I leave?

- What do you want?
- Am I interrupting?

Can it wait?

It's urgent.
Are you not alone?

That's what it looks like.

Do I know him?

- I'm going to close the door.
- Wait.

Can I borrow your car?

- Now?
- Yes.

Wait here.

Good evening.

Good evening.

I'm a friend of Mathieu.

So it's Mathieu?

He's around the corner.

There is not much gasoline left.
Are you going far?

Reasonably far.
I'll deal with it.

Reasonably far? Don't drive
too far away. I need it.

I'm going to the far West.
I won't be back soon.

- There are things in it.
- Then go get them.

It's just to get rid of you...

I don't like to give
my car away, that's clear.

Were is it, "far west"?

You can worry if I go east,

but the west stops at the ocean.

Are you crazy?

Come on.
I'm going to visit my strange Breton.

Wait a second.

Tell me,

Where does your guy come from?
He looked very muscular.

You're having a good time.

Have you known him for a long time?

That depends on my finances.
He's a whore.

- For real?
- You know that.

How could I make out with a guy like him?
I pay for his muscles.

Do you have the info you wanted?

I swear I thought
he was your dancer.

- He doesn't dance.
- OK. Be careful.

I'm careful and I
don't need your advice.

Are you going to teach me something about
prevention? Save that for your Breton.

How could I know you're
fucking on Sunday night?

Go now. Leave me alone.

Come with me.
You are dressed to go to the sea.

It was not for a swim.

You know I like you.

- You get fleas from petting dogs.
- Give me a hug.

- Are we already hugging?
- You need it.

You're crazy.

Frightening how you
communicate lately.

Patronizing piece of shit.

Understood?
Pang pang, rabbit!

What is going on?

You are dead!
Pang pang, rabbit!

You are dead!

What are those? Bullets!

They deviate, to the right and left.

Pang pang, rabbit!

The nearest rabbits are hit!

It's a disaster! What is happening?

The strategy doesn’t work anymore!
Pang Pang!

You are dead!

At full moon the Great Wizard
summons the dads of the rabbits!

And the moms!

And the babies!

I'm on my way to my cousins.

Great, but I'm busy.
First bedtime, then meeting...

- Prepare!
- I can wait for you.

We are rarely ready before midnight.

- Do I get a kiss from you?
- No.

Sleep tight.

From the first aid post.

The sleeping bag center for bed-wetting.

They are washed daily,

but there may still be a
smell of children's pee.

You're disgusting.

- And I stole some cider. Interested?
- Yes.

- And?
- What?

You are not here to
talk about work.

We are still friends.

Friends visit each other.

I am for courtesy visits.
Health.

Seen my royal residence?

When you finally talked to me,

you said that you were
also interested in boys.

So I wondered...

When we were together,
when I thought we were,

do you have...
Listen. I'm trying to talk.

Were you actively interested
in boys back then

Or was it just an idea?

- Should we talk about that?
- Yes, I think so.

Good.

I cheated on you with a few guys.

Since they were boys,

I was not really cheating on you.

Alright...

And before me, were you gay at times?

Yes. I've been cheating on
people with boys for a while.

Sorry to be stubborn but...

Why going out with people like me when
you make love with people like them?

Because until recently I only
fell in love with girls.

Until your boy scout?

No.
I didn't even sleep with him.

- Arthur...
- You're imagining things.

I'm not fucking every gay person.
I am not a dog in heat.

Who is the "until recently"?

We talked well.

Can't we just French kiss?

I don't want French kissing.

But the enthusiasm of your
weak heart fascinates me.

It would be beneficial to express
your feelings to an outsider.

I thought I wouldn't end this sentence.

Come on.

I met a Parisian.

We met in Rennes.

He's a writer.

Since that time we have contact
via letters and the telephone.

He doesn't care about me,

but I can make him
change his mind.

- What is his name?
- Jacques.

Is he the same age as our parents?

Fuck you.

Yes, he is 10 or 15 years older than me.

He is screwing you?

Damn, I don't answer that.

To be honest,

Imagining you doing something
like that with a man...

It's a challenge for me.

Why do you imagine?

Did you picture Pierre
or Fabrice doing it?

Save me your nonsense.

I remember you with me.

All right, but what can I say?

Enjoy it.

- I told my parents.
- What? why?

No idea. I felt bad.

I had to talk to someone.
But it's okay.

It's not okay. Your parents...

- Did you have to say it?
- Yes.

They are going to tell my mother:

"Mrs. Prigent, we know about your son."

Are you stupid or what?

I regretted it afterwards.

- They can keep their mouth shut.
- I hope so.

Damn, what's that noise?

They are going to wake up the whole camp.
Stay here.

- I'll be right back.
- Sorry.

"Mr. the Director,

don't insist, I'm not going
to the far West soon.

You lie. I know that it
rains several times a day

and that the young are deformed by
the pancakes and the buttermilk.

If you miss me, come to Paris.

You have to leave your
country and try your luck here.

You will not become a filmmaker there.

You would be the Breton Pagnol

(which is actually not bad).

Return to your model boats
but, since you're so fond,

my two hands are at your disposal,

as well as my tongue and my tail.

Parisian cushion on your
slightly salted skin. Jacques."

Are you happy now?

Do you find it funny?

Estelle too?

There is dinner and dinner.

Your situation brings the
safety of the children

under your wing in danger.

Can you not set limits?

And think about the neighbors.

Now calm down.

Understood?

Is the planning ready for tomorrow?

Why do you not want to stay?

That guy was out for a fight.

Was he not your type?
I bet he was well equipped.

Jacques, go back.
I'm going after the whores.

Do you have scruples with me?

That would be wrong.

I'm tired of playing the big brother.

I feel like a brute.

- Are you counting on me?
- I have no expectations.

- Shall I hit you?
- Why not?

OK...

- Are you already done?
- No, I'm coming.

A writer must make people happy.

- Rather than what?
- Always complaining.

- I don't do that.
- Stop it.

Since when do you read my work?

Here and there.

I don't really care.

Recuperated?

Yes.

- Can I hit you again?
- Not in the same place.

Eyes down.

Eyes down!

I like this game.

I can take revenge for
what you make me do.

For real?

What are you going to do?

You know people love you.

Stop that.

I could never hurt you.

A gift.

If you need me, burn
yourself and I'll come.

But the magic will not always work.

That's a devilish gift.

- We did well to leave.
- I finish smoking.

Good evening.

I have to call Mathieu urgently.

- Something with Loulou?
- I don't know.

Ask if you can call.

- Can I use your phone?
- Yes.

Thank you.

Number one.

Please.

Tell me. Is there something with Loulou?

Where is he?

Did you see Him?

No...
My train is tomorrow at 6 o'clock.

OK. See you.

Marco is dead.

Come here for a hug.

I'm going for a walk.

Is everyone here?

- Martin!
- Present.

Angelo!

Magdalena!

- You wait until it leaves?
- Of course.

And you write every day.
And you take a shower every day.

- And change your girlfriend every day.
- Agreed.

Hello, boy.

- Louis!
- That's you.

- Louis Tondelli!
- He is coming...

Louane!

Why don't you go to Dijon?

I go to the parents' of
Mathieu in Normandy.

We leave this afternoon.

- For the weekend?
- Yes.

Are you sure?

I bet you will be alone
in Paris for two weeks,

- to be permanently depressed.
- It's my life.

Yes.

Are you currently writing?
- More or less.

- About what?
- Still the founder of Belfort.

Don't make a hero of it.

I make a stupid faggot of it,
but not a killer.

His foolishness killed 15 people.

- Are you free?
- Yes.

- Do I have to write about my life?
- No.

- See.
- Okay, I'll be silent.

Damn...
Loulou's camera.

- Give it to me.
- Why?

- I'll mail it.
- Are you sure?

- Yes.
- Great, because I don't have time anymore.

- OK. You may leave.
- Say goodbye to Mathieu and his parents.

OK.
And enjoy your Dijonerie.

- Send the camera.
- Yes I will.

I am Mr. Cairo.
I had an appointment at 11 o'clock.

We haven't waited for you.

Sorry.

Have a seat.
I'll see if you can pass in between.

Press your back against it.

Don't move.

Arms a little sideways.

Inhale breathing and don't move.

- Mr. Tondelli?
- Here.

I apologize. Hello.
This way, please.

- To the left?
- No, here.

Look at my ear.

Look here.

So...
You have an nasty virus.

The cytomegalovirus.

That causes fever.

Even without the eye examination, you
must be admitted as soon as possible

for a series of tests:

biopsy, endoscopy, colonoscopy
under complete anesthesia.

I also want to check your lung capacity.

It will be intense, but fast.

A couple of days.

And then we'll see.

- I can record you for today.
- No, not today.

We can't delay.

I give you a week at most.

A week then.

Then I put you on two infusions
per day for two weeks.

Good.

And... what with...

my stomach pain?

I think that stress plays a role.

Do you think you are getting weaker?

Let's say...

that I have a few...

suicide thoughts.

I will give you something.

Pills that help you sleep,

on top of the painkillers.

You may not believe it, but you
are doing reasonably well.

The weight loss is not worrying,

your T4s are low, but
your body is strong.

It's an ally.

It's me.

- Sorry.
- Arthur?

I am Mathieu, a friend of Jacques.
Come on in.

Jacques is not here.
Here are the keys.

He says you can't stay
overnight tomorrow night.

His sister comes unexpectedly.

You have to find a solution.

Do you know where?

No. I need to think about it.

You can stay until 3 pm tomorrow.

The big key is for the front door.
The small for the flat.

That's all.

Don't forget to leave the keys.
His sister also has a set.

- Can't I see him?
- No, he's gone for a week.

Put your bag down.

Make yourself at home.

- A bottle...
- From chouchen.

It's like mead, isn't it?

I can't stay too long.

Will it be okay?

Do you know Paris?

I am alone here for the first time.

Nice. Any plans?

The Georges Pompidou Center
and an ACT UP meeting...

tonight.

Perfect.

Right and left bank.

In Paris you have to cross
the Seine every three hours.

OK...

I have to work. I'm already late.

- Can I reach Jacques?
- No.

But he will call some time.
Pick up.

- Good to meet you, Arthur.
- Thanks.

I am gone.

Ready.

How was he?

- Physically?
- No.

Was he suspicious?
Disappointed?

How could he not be?

And physically?

I thought he was more handsome.

Yes...

Does he know where to go tomorrow night?

He will find something.

What is he going to do today?

He goes to the Georges Pompidou Center,

and then to an ACT UP meeting.

ACT UP?
Does he know people there?

No idea.

For a Breton fagot in Paris

an ACT UP meeting is just as
exciting as the catacombs.

No way he is
attending the ACT UP meeting.

Let him go.
Do you want to take care of him?

No, but I don't
want him to be hurt.

Hurt at ACT UP?

I'm getting tired of you, Jacques.

All of this makes me sick.

You should go to ACT UP,
it would freshen you up.

There are many people sick and
they are fighting. But you...

Damn it, screw you.

I am at the newspaper until 8 pm.

Since you live here now, you
can make dinner for tonight.

Something tasty.

- Fish with curry sauce.
- Forget it.

Come on.

If I don't smell curry, you
can sleep elsewhere.

No Pompidou Center?

What are you doing here?

I know, I shouldn't impose myself.

It's not the time.

Do you want to be alone?
Or did you meet with someone?

I am in Paris for you.

I followed you from my home.

I lied. As you can see, I
am not far from Paris.

I am with Mathieu, my neighbor.

OK...

The idea of two nights
with you in my flat

seemed too heavy to bear.

I was glad you suggested it, but...

What do you want me to say?

I became depressed.

I can no longer have a relation.

Dreaming of a life that does not
come, or of a love affair...

It's out of reach for me.

I don't want to end up as a dreamer.

I have principles and they
always get the upper hand.

I warned you that I
had nothing to offer.

I can't be together with someone.

I just know how to be alone.

And it's a bad moment.

I get two infusions per day

and tomorrow they put a
catheter in my chest.

It's stupid, but that
thing in my chest

makes me feel like I won't be able to
undress in front of a man.

I thought about being clean.
I never thought I would get excited again.

I would just read.

End as a reader?

Exactly.

And then you came with your stuff

and it should have been as I
thought, but it didn't work.

No...

I heard you leave from
the flat this afternoon.

- Yes?
- All singing.

Why are you such a person who
walks in the street singing?

Can't you be the
more silent, shy type?

And then I noticed you...

On the corner, eating.

And I found you

very suitable.

On that terrace in the sun,

eating with a cigarette
in your female hand

that went through your hair...

And I thought...

I'm not ashamed of him.
I thought, "He's my last Vondel."

don't wait for me, Arthur.

Don't ask yourself how you
can bring me back to life.

But I would like you to
come to sleep with me.

Alright. There we go.
From the beginning.

- Ready?
- Again?

We can also talk?

- Come on.
- I'm tired of the choreography.

Come on.

- Come.
- Here we go.

- We will let this pass.
- I'll let it pass.

I like when you count.

One two three four...

We started too soon.

- We started to soon.
- We started badly.

It's not bad.

If the teacher doesn't
already know the song...

- The box.
- The powder.

Give me your hand. This one.

I stand in front.

Unbelievable. You again in front.

That laugh...

And now...

The tangine part.

Now backwards.

Forward... Sideways...

I forgot the twist.

We are drunk.

Come here, you.

Small walk...

Not that.

Come here, you.

Look into the eyes.

And now...

Cigarette.

- Here we go.
- Two.

Well done.

Back behind me.
I'm tired of you.

Smoking usually takes longer.

Take over, I've had enough.

Come on, Arthur. Concentrate.

- Don't sulk.
- Concentrate. Three four...

I never understood why

so many people talk about their youth

after sex.

They complain and whine

because they find themselves as adults

that their youth was
not what they wanted.

It was not innocent at all.

It is the same that complain

that they are free with their
bodies, not with their souls.

I am disgusted by their complacency.

Arthur, stop drinking.

It's liquid honey.

I need sugar.
I am not yet fully grown, gentlemen.

You can distinguish the
drinkers from Chouchen

by the way they fall to the
ground after a while.

They fall straight down. In one go.

It must be fun.

I'm not that far yet.

I am still flexible.

Quiet.

A squaw in the forest.

Be careful!

Watch out for my table.

Who is talking to you
about their abused youth?

Everybody.
It's like they are

blaming me for their shitty youth.

It's always the same.
They make love here and there

and then they seek a reason

a nice pleasant reason.

They make love, but never
of their own free will.

It's always the others who
exploit their vulnerability

or their brittleness as a result
of some abuse in their youth.

Some are very good at it.

Damn.

Be proud and happy that
your body is cheering.

Sex is no less noble than feelings,
it is as simple as that.

And forget your childhood.

If homosexuals are honest, they admit that
they don't lose anything by making love.

Making love is winning something,
never losing anything.

You are less sentimental
than you are.

I am sentimental.

Ultrasentimental, as you once said.

The gaze of others scares me.

How can they find me attractive?

But...

As soon as we get closer
and touch each other,

I don't understand why
they don't fall in love.

I keep my mouth shut.
I am not yelling:

"Have you seen the child
that sleeps in me?"

I am glad that my life is accelerating

when a guy looks at me, but...

I would never bother him

with memories of frozen
blows on the playground.

I'm not sure if I can still follow you.

I'm drunk and I'm babbling.

That's Breton.
"Mixing butter".

Bretons can be idiots.

Right, Parisians?

We can be idiot like no one.

His message seems very clear to me.

I was not talking about you, you
don't cry when you make love.

I meant it in general.

I can also talk in general, can I?

I have an opinion about gays.

- A well-founded.
- For real?

First, it's all crying.

Screw those who despise
making love in dirty toilets.

It's not shameful,

it's a chance for an adventure,

an opportunity, without
any idea what will happen

and therefore you feel more alive.

It will be a concern to
me if you smell piss.

Come on, the smell is nothing
compared to the kick you get.

Gays who avoid toilets are
those who never read.

Literature is not spent on them.

Here are my big ideas.

Don't you think they are good?

You look like fried fish.

My little angel...

No general ideas for you.

Only special.

I don't have anything special
to say to you tonight.

Or so many.

I want to tell you I'm here and...

You don't have to pretend you are already
dead, and don't hide your loneliness.

I always wanted everything,

but I can also be very happy with little.

You can go home better.

I am sick of your outpourings.

Are we not sleeping here?

Certainly not.

When should you be in the hospital?

At 8 o'clock in the morning.

Will I order a taxi at the
expense of the newspaper?

Very thoughtful of you, my dear friend.

Thanks, but I'm taking my scooter.

I want to sleep with you.

Even though we don't make love.

Put on your pajamas, young man.

Arthur, you have to sleep...

can't I take you in
front of your friend?

I leave you.

- No.
- Yes.

No...

Okay, I'm opening the box.

I close them. Short tango.

Cigarette...

I push the cigarette out.

INFECTIOUS DISEASES

Jacques?

Hello.

Are you looking for Jacques?

- Yes.
- I'm Isabelle.

This is Loulou.

He can come back any
time from radiology.

- Can I wait with you?
- Of course.

What is your name?

Arthur. A Breton friend.
I'm in Paris for a few days.

Have you heard about us?

No.

Jacques is always partitioning his life.

Loulou is his son.
I am the mother of his son.

I'm not his wife, just a friend.
The mother of his son.

Are you the son of Jacques?

I don't want.

It's okay, honey.
Dad will be happy to see you.

I don't want to see him here.
Can I wait outside?

Be nice now.

Loulou!

I can watch your son
and come back later.

That's nice. Thanks.

Can you bring my bag?

Is Loulou your real name?

It's Louis, but
everyone says Loulou.

- What do you prefer?
- I prefer Louis.

- Have you already told them that?
- No, but Loulou doesn't bother me.

I'm Arthur.

I know, you already said that.
Like Rimbaud.

Do you already know Rimbaud?

- We learned a poem from him at school.
- "The Sleeper in the Valley"?

I don't know the title anymore.

"At four o'clock on a summer morning

The sleep of love lurks further..."

I did not learn that at your age.

Did you already come to ours'?

To your father's, yes.

Did you sleep in my bed?

I haven't seen your room.

I'll show you next time.
It's the biggest room.

When are you with your father?

Normally every other day.

You see each other all the time.

Do you see that woman there with the box?

There are kittens in it.

Does she give the kitten away?

I think they're for a patient,

but they will not let her in.

Or maybe...

she sells them to
make experiments with them.

You are insane.

Your son and your
friend hold kittens.

I think a disaster is coming.

I won't take a kitten home.

Jacques!

Damn...

Excuse me!

Hey daddy.

- Don't say that.
- Slept well?

What did you do today?

Been here and there.

You have a fever.
Bretons have a cure for that.

For real?

Someone has to lie down
naked next to the patient.

He has to stay all night,
otherwise it won't work.

And the volunteer must come from
three generations of Bretons.

You're lucky, I'm such a person.

I don't think it will be possible.

I think so.

No one will join until tomorrow and
I asked the head nurse Patrick,

who said: "No problem, stay
with your friend, boy."

That is my song.

Listen.

Yes...

Do you know it?

You are not really sick.

Enough. We are going to sleep.

I forgot.
The most important.

Otherwise your fever will not go away.

Good.

We could have a nice life.

What does this mean?

It has been a long time since
we drank something here.

Last time, the police caught us.

I wear a dress.

Fast, and stop complaining.
Climb over the wall.

- I can climb there.
- No, stop it.

Whose birthday is it?

Nobody, but I have news.

But first a gift.

Come on, tell me.

I'm moving to Paris. Mom and
grandmother pay the rent for a year.

A year to succeed.

Succeed in what?

Working, writing, making a movie...

He goes to Paris to make a fortune.

Fortune... I say it,

you must always remain suspicious,
whether it is bad or good.

- Do you have the necessary talent?
- Don't get in common.

- Not tonight.
- Did you know?

He has canceled his rent.

I didn't know.

What do you think?

I'm going to miss you.

We will obviously miss you.

You will return as a beaten
dog within two months.

Paris is not our thing.

For me it's Paris or nothing.

You will be hurt.

No, I will pay attention.
Don't worry.

Life is hard there.

It is not like in Rwanda.

I promise that I will pay attention.

Don't fool me.

You are cruel.

Be honest, you leave us behind.

"Cruelty...

is not a person who
hurts another person,

mutilated or torturing,

cuts off his limbs or his head,

or to make him cry.

The real, terrible cruelty

is that of a person
who excludes another,

interrupts him like
dots in a sentence

or looks away from him,

after looking at him

makes the human a mistake
of look or judgment

a mistake like a letter just started.

That gets crumpled after the beginning,

after writing the date."

Koltès.

I am thrilled to know you read the
books I give you.

Do you feel the anxiety increase?

I feel the humidity.

Maybe I can't achieve anything
because I don't know anyone.

But I also go there for someone.

Who?

A certain Jacques with
whom I am in love.

I know few men called Jacques,

but they were all distinguished.

Don't you say anything, Fabrice?

Why do I have to say something?

The others already knew it.

Well...

I think it's great

that you can fall in love with a man.
I'm impressed.

Personally, I could not do it.

And I feel very sad.

And I think I'm a little
jealous of Jacques

and everyone who will love you
in Paris, and we will miss you.

Come here, honey.

Stop that.

Is there no music?
A sturdy piece.

The time has come, the summer is over.

- Ozone or Cactus?
- No, not the Cactus.

I showed my tits to the bartender.

Why are we never there
when you are so generous?

It is too late for the Ozone.
The Contrescarpe?

I come right away.

- The Contrescarpe.
- See you later.

Go away!

We also love you.

- Where do you want that?
- On the table.

See you.

- Is that all?
- What I want you to have.

That's your phone.

I'm going to switch it off.

Jacques, it's me.

I wanted to invite you tonight.

I have good news for you.

You need good news
in your situation.

I stay in the vicinity
of this telephone booth.

You can call me on the
number 99 68 40 35.

Kisses, old love of mine.

I will fuck you with pleasure.

You need to know...

I started with this diary
after my final exams.

20 years does not take much space.

I wrote regularly.
Not every day, but...

I noticed that I often wrote on Sundays.

But I couldn't become a writer.

You are.

Besides...

the "e" on my typewriter is defective.

I used a "3" on the last pages.

I have checked everything.

All names that remain
may be mentioned.

Do you use the real name of Loulou?

No.

I call him "L".

I hope he can ever be
proud of his father.

That's stupid.

Nobody should be
proud of his father.

I hope he will forgive me.

I did well with him, didn't I?

I mean...

We have done well.

Isabelle and I were a good team.

Okay, Mathieu, my friend, I'm going.

Do you have my keys?

- Stay a little longer.
- No.

We will become emotional
and you will tie me up.

I have prepared myself for this.
I thought it would end like that.

Tomorrow morning

you don't have to come down alone.

Call the fire department and
tell them you don't have the key.

I'll be there. don't worry.

I'm not worried.

I'm very tired.

- Don't be angry.
- I don't judge.

I know you don't.

The others...

Starting with my parents.

My damn publisher.

Screw them.

- I hope it will blow up in their face.
- Don't get mad.

I know.

But hiding my aversion has
become too difficult for me.

You live more intensely than you think.

What happened to your dancer?

He was there last night.

And?

He is very beautiful.

Too perfect. And therefore
I didn't get hard.

I just looked. I hardly touched him.
Pathetic.

Promise me...

that you will learn how to
corrupt beauty, my friend.