Original subtitles

MAY 1968

MAY 1972

EVERYTHING'S ALL RIGHT

Scene 1, take 1.

Scene 18, take 5.

Scene 3b, take 2.

I want to make a film.

You need money for that.

DIRECTOR

SCRIPT

CINEMATOGRAPHER

SOUND

PRODUCTION

EDITING

FILM

ELECTRICIANS

GRIPS

SET DESIGN

FILM LAB

SPECIAL EFFECTS

MUSIC

SECONDARY ROLES

EXTRAS

BENEFITS

MISCELLANEOUS

If you use stars, people will give you money.

Then we'll use stars.

INTERNATIONAL STAR

What'll you tell Yves Montand and Jane Fonda ?

Actors want to see a story before they agree to anything.

We need a story?

Yeah, usually a love story.

- Do you love me? - Yes.

I love your eyes, I love your mouth.

I love your knees, I love your arse.

I love your hair, I love your hands.

- So you love me completely? - Yes. What about you?

I love your forehead, I love your legs.

I love your balls, I love your shoulders.

I love your mouth.

- So you love me completely? - Yes, completely.

There'd be Him and Her,

and they'd have relationship problems.

- Wait a minute! - You wait a minute!

Keep going and you'll have a nice story about zombies.

Where do your characters live? When?

What do they eat? Give us some details!

There'd be a country.

In the country, there'd be countryside.

In the countryside, there'd be cities.

In the cities, there'd be houses.

In one of the houses, there'd be Him,

and in one of the houses, there'd be Her.

There'd be Her and Him.

That's still too vague.

Wait.

There'd be lots of people.

There'd be workers.

There'd be farmers.

Petit bourgeois and grand bourgeois.

And She and He must be placed among them.

And She and He must be placed among them.

Is that a better beginning?

I don't know yet. Keep going.

There'd be farmers who farm.

There'd be workers who work.

And bourgeois who bourgeois.

Good evening. Here are our top stories at 8:00.

Mr Pompidou will hold a press conference this month.

And bourgeois who bourgeois.

Mr Servan-Schreiber revealed seven points in common

between his party and Mr Mitterrand's Socialists.

Does this mean a falling out with Mr Lecanuet?

We need to add something.

For example,

"Under a calm surface, everything's changing."

Yes.

Everything's changing within every class.

Under a calm surface, everything's changing.

Everything's changing within every class.

And She and He, swept up in it, also change.

Remington had the same idea as you.

Remington razors have super-sharp blades to shave even closer.

Turn the sound off.

Oh, it's you.

Yes, I need you. No, it's for a commercial.

Yes, a Remington ad.

You're naked, lying on a fur.

There's a guy behind you, an aftershave model.

He takes a couple different electric razors,

and he shaves with them.

Then he rubs his cheek on your behind and you say, "That scratches."

After a few other brands, he shaves with a Remington.

Then he rubs his cheek on your behind again,

and you say, "It doesn't scratch anymore."

Day after tomorrow at 9:00, soundstage B.

Great. Bye.

- Play it back. - Robert, play it back.

Your son's. Almost.

Give your husband a Remington razor.

She and He, swept up in it, also change.

After building themselves a rat trap,

they're caught in it themselves, and they're screwed.

How smart of the establishment press to maintain, thanks to advertising

such a low price that it doesn't even cover the costs of their raw materials.

LOCK UP THE BOSSES

INDEFINITE STRIKE

Be serious! Why destroy all the files?

Just relax!

You haven't had a supervisor since 9:00 this morning.

Besides, you never know.

They might be tearing up the list of layoffs.

- So? - So what if your name's on it?

While they're redoing the list, you keep your job

for at least three more days, and at your age, that's important.

Leave me alone!

Stupid fool!

It's this way. You'll see.

I'm here to see the manager.

- We know! - He may be too busy to see you!

- What's going on? - That's what we'd like to know.

You look like you're having fun.

Listen to me!

What the hell's going on?

I have an appointment with the manager.

They just showed up and insisted on coming up.

We need to see the manager.

They said they had an appointment to see the manager.

Maybe we could talk to his secretary. She could...

His secretary? That's me.

I'm a temp, of course.

Since they're already here, why disappoint them?

Come on. After you.

You still at it?

- Listening at the door! - That's not nice.

Spying on his workers!

You have visitors, babe.

Excuse us. We'll be leaving now.

What the hell are you doing here?

I'm Susan Dewitt of the American Broadcasting System.

Your secretary scheduled an interview with you.

I have some questions for our inquiry into today's employers in France.

I'm sorry. With all this excitement, it slipped my mind.

- Why are you laughing? - That's my husband.

Now I see why they said you might be too busy to see us.

- Jacques! - Very funny.

This isn't a good time. It's unbelievable.

The union planned a run-of-the-mill work stoppage for this morning.

Then things got out of hand.

A gang of lunatics started ransacking the personnel manager's office.

When I showed up, they threw me in here.

I've been locked up for four hours.

They even cut my outside line.

Real hooligans.

Real hooligans!

The manager, fine. But why do we need the other two?

You may be right, but there's no time for details in the class struggle.

LOCK UP THE BOSSES INDEFINITE STRIKE

If you keep on like this, Salumi

The working class will kick your arse

My name is Marco Guidotti.

I was born in Italy, but I have a French passport.

I've managed this factory since September 15, 1967.

This is the first time anything like this has happened.

Until now, we hadn't been contaminated by May '68.

My reaction?

For the moment, more amusement than anything else.

It has more to do with psychiatry.

There are maladjusted people in factories too, like anywhere,

and they tried to force a coup for no reason

without the support of the people or the union.

There's no lesson to learn from this.

Seriously, what's "class struggle" got to do with all this?

You're still using a 19th-century vocabulary.

The glaring injustices of Marx' and Engels' day are over.

What do you mean, "power"?

The past 25 years have dashed the hopes

of many Marxist-influenced philosophers who criticised consumer society.

The last 15 years have proved

that Marxism and collectivism certainly don't protect you

from exploitation and alienation.

Look at the USSR and the people's democracies.

I don't think the word "revolution" has meaning anymore.

Industrialised countries have increased their overall and per capita income

more in the last 25 years than they did from 1900 to 1945.

Workers and employees in general have played an important role,

without acting as a class

or being exclusionary.

This is a time of evolution/revolution.

Classes are now cooperating with each other

to build an urban, industrial society

motivated by a quest for progress

that is tangible and ongoing.

Most people are free from daily needs

and the resignation engendered by half-baked beliefs.

I'm not denying that our society has drawbacks.

The hard work and aggressiveness that accompany the drive for efficiency

risk dehumanising everyone and destroying the weaker among us.

The desire for possessions can lead to frustration

and too much pleasure can make you nauseous.

You have to find a balance

and most people find it, or will find it.

They have a natural tendency to find balance and adapt

because of their need to streamline

all aspects of their lives and surroundings.

Why do you want me to talk about today's events?

It's a flash in the pan.

The unions will be furious that I'm here.

Anyway, they know I won't talk under duress.

Everything will return to normal.

I hope I can get home on time.

We're having a dinner party.

Bosses will always be jerks.

What did you expect?

Are you crazy?

Yes, I'm the CGT shop steward.

Most unions are part of the CGT.

Absolutely not.

We planned a short work stoppage, but not this.

What do I think of the situation?

It's very serious.

At a moment when the unions have come together

to defend the vital interests of all employees,

and duly empowered representatives of the workers

are entering into sensitive negotiations with management,

this is a bad blow on the part of an irresponsible minority.

The CGT condemns their actions.

Such troublemakers only serve the interests of management

who are happy to refuse to negotiate under duress

and to justify their refusal to budge.

Listen, I've spent eight hours a day in this factory for seven years.

This morning's events were used by a few hotheads

who had already been brought to our attention.

Most workers in this factory are responsible people.

Yes, they raised the issue of bonuses.

Do you think such a large problem can be solved

by attacking a foreman, like they did this morning?

That worker was part of our union.

So we can see how these troublemakers operate.

The problem of the food industry is very complex.

The food industry is being thoroughly reorganised

and is becoming concentrated.

In 1968 and 1969, there were 173 mergers and acquisitions

Five giants control 25% of the market,

while 567 companies have only 6%.

Management's objective is simple.

Set up one or two giants in each sector with a turnover of one billion francs.

They're looking beyond the French market.

They want to supply the 190 million consumers

in the six countries of the Common Market.

These mergers are sponsored by the banks, of course.

The Suez Company is in cheese and yoghurt

and Rothschild is investing in mustard and gingerbread.

Any industry where profits can be made is fair game.

And there are profits to be made, believe me.

In 10 years, productivity has risen by 55%,

production by 60%,

and corporate profits by 25-30% every year.

66 of the top 500 French companies are food-related.

But our salaries haven't kept up with increasing production

and even less with corporate profits.

Food industry salaries, despite the gains of May '68,

are still among the lowest in France

with a national average of 4.80 francs an hour.

I have the figures here.

Here at Salumi, a labourer makes 3.45 + 0.62 francs an hour.

An unskilled worker makes 3.94 + 0.74.

A skilled worker makes 4.45 + 0.90.

A highly skilled worker makes from 5.37 to 6.04.

The food industry stuffs the bosses and CEOs

while it underfeeds the workers.

We at the CGT maintain

that industrial concentration calls for a united strategy

that allows agreements between multiple sectors

combined with individual riders for each sector or factory.

We also maintain that irresponsible actions like those of this morning

threaten our overall strategy

which is the only one capable of influencing management.

Of course the problem is larger than that, even political.

There's no true solution to workers' hopes and dreams

under the current system

where a few capitalists impose their law of monopolistic profits.

To make possible a social policy for the people

we have to set up a true democracy in this country.

For this, we need a government of the people

that combines the forces of blue-collar and white-collar workers

both rural and urban, believers and nonbelievers,

all those who labour under the stifling control of monopolistic capitalism.

Hey, here comes Stacquet.

Take it easy!

- Do you mind? - What do you want?

I'm still the shop steward. Stay out of this.

Understand?

Look out. It's the muscle from the CGT.

- That's why we're here, sir. - "Sir"!

The strike committee met after you arrived.

The brothers on the committee don't want you here.

I've kept quiet till now, but don't treat us like idiots.

We don't accept the committee's point of view.

It bugs you that the guys gave grief to two foremen

who wanted to get rid of their bonuses.

It bothers you that we locked up the manager.

I'd like to get information about the factory.

You've got a big mouth, like all leftists.

You won't help with day-to-day union activities.

We do all the work.

When we organise a protest, all you do is criticise.

We'll have to clean up the mess you've made today!

You may have had fun destroying some files,

but you've also derailed negotiations

and it won't be easy to get them back on track.

Maybe these others should have a chance to speak.

Why should they?

You're the only one we hear from.

You're making a mistake.

You still don't have a majority here.

So we should just let ourselves get fucked over?

We should just let ourselves get fucked over?

- How many people work here? - Let's go see the committee.

- Not so fast. - We'd be happy to tell you our reasons.

Hey, the manager!

Watch out! He's getting away.

Take it easy! I'm not the manager!

That'll teach you to be pals with the manager and shop steward.

You want information? Go ahead!

That's getting us nowhere.

- Arsehole! - Enough with the insults!

Let's get out of here. You can't talk to guys like this!

Keep away from these troublemakers if you don't want what's coming to them!

Bye, girls! Have fun gossiping.

We had no choice this morning or just now.

We were right to get angry.

Bonuses? We're thinking they're less complicated than they are.

Or maybe more. I don't know.

Lots of guys think their bonuses are the assembly line and the foremen.

You have to have seen how a factory breaks out in an uproar.

You're slogging away, and then something breaks down.

The guy starts yelling, and so does everyone around him.

Some don't even know what they're yelling about.

If people are yelling on the second floor,

people downstairs hear them and start yelling, too.

Managers come running because they're losing money.

The working man always gets blamed.

Sometimes the workers' bonus gets docked 10%.

The weekend guy usually loses 80% of his bonus.

Let me explain this morning's fight.

You could suddenly put a face on your docked pay.

You talk to us about overall strategy.

Maybe we'll agree,

but some of us see it as a deserved kick up the arse.

I'm only speaking for myself,

but the CGT's always fighting ghosts.

You figure it out yourself

and you run into a guy you see every day who you think is your enemy.

Then you're an irresponsible troublemaker.

It's more complicated than that.

The union guys,

they act like there's nothing outside the factory.

It's hard to explain. That's not it.

It's as if you only existed for eight hours a day.

The union thinks for us workers.

In the outside world, as a citizen,

the party thinks for you and you follow.

All you can do is light a candle for the left.

The union only talks about one problem

or only has one way to talk about it, with figures.

It's almost as confusing as Giscard on TV.

When the guys see where the numbers lead -

to work stoppages and May Day parades -

and when they get fed up and do something on their own,

they get yelled at

and they see it's the numbers that stand in the way the most.

You don't have to be a leftist to think like that.

The union guys used to strike fear into people

just by pointing at them and shouting "Mao".

Now everyone laughs at them.

I don't know what a Mao is,

but if it's saying what I just said, then there are lots of Maos here.

The tall guy and the girl? What do you expect us to do?

We'll keep them here. We're not going to eat them.

We'll wait.

We locked up the manager. Our anger was justified.

He's locked up, and it seems we're on the defensive.

It's not going to be easy with those other two.

We'll see what management and the union do now.

It's good we didn't chicken out.

Besides, we'll have some fun.

At least a little.

- Would you stop it? - Stop what?

Pacing! It's pointless and it bugs me.

You're telling me! Can't you see what's happening?

You're locked up, too.

- For me it's not a problem. - Really?

No, it's not! I think they're justified.

A hostage who approves of the hostage-takers.

Soon you'll be agreeing with their methods.

Methods? Let's talk about motives instead.

When you were spouting that garbage to my wife...

Yes, garbage!

Don't you know why you're here? You can't be that stupid!

Is everything all right?

You're right, but there's no point getting upset.

You'll never convince this guy.

I didn't know your husband was a leftist.

He doesn't look like one.

Very funny. Now answer me.

If you don't change your tone, we can't have a serious discussion.

I refuse.

That's what you said before they brought you here.

Don't forget. You're here, too!

I'll ask you the same question.

Is everything all right with you?

That's a bit much! ls everything all right?

The situation is fine.

Say that in a few hours.

Time really is dragging.

Yes, I really have to stay.

All the other girls are staying, too.

Can't you take care of the kids for once?

When you occupied your factory during your strike,

I didn't make a fuss.

I think it's the same thing.

What a bastard!

You women get back in the kitchen!

No, nothing. Just a guy.

A guy from the factory.

Of course the guys are staying.

You're too much. That's not why I'm staying.

Anyway, if you saw him, he's an old guy.

At least sixty!

Sixty years old, old man!

So it's OK?

I might even be home tonight.

Who knows what'll happen?

I made supper.

Just heat up what's on the stove.

Be careful with the kids' dinner.

I have to go.

Are you mad?

I'll keep you posted.

Good bye.

That was hard.

I'm going to take a piss.

Who?

Who?

It's the manager.

Idiot!

What do you want?

- Tell me what you want! - What does that arsehole want?

You want to go and have a piss?

He says he wants to go and have a piss!

No need to fly the white flag for that!

Go ahead! We can't stop you.

Lucien! Go with him.

We don't trust you. You tried to run away once already.

It's occupied!

Do you mind?

Georges, it's the manager!

Leave me alone!

It's really the manager.

So what do you want me to do?

Would you hurry up?

Who does he think he is?

When I work a four-hour shift,

I'm allowed two five-minute breaks to piss

with the foreman's permission.

Since the loo is five minutes from the shop,

I get docked every time.

And the loos are disgusting!

If he's in such a hurry, let him use one of those!

Shit!

Have some manners!

He's right, you know.

You have three minutes to go and come back. I'm timing you.

Hey, cheating already! False start!

On your mark.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, zero!

And he's off!

Where's the toilet?

That way.

- It's locked. - Try that way.

I can't find it.

Just tell me where the toilet is.

Shit! Figure it out yourself!

What about fair play?

Who are these people?

Sorry. You're too late!

I can't stand it!

Same thing's happened to me.

I'd used up my two breaks. I was sick.

I asked the foreman if I could go.

He told me to shit in my pants.

You see? Those are the rules. We didn't make them.

Now back to work!

Head down and you'll look like a runner.

Occupied!

- Out of my way! - The people will get you!

Bastard! The people will have your hide.

Excuse me, but I have to piss!

How far will they go?

How far will they go?

The class struggle is not a dinner party, cha-cha-cha!

This is the 5:00 evening news.

Did you see that? Don't pretend you didn't.

Sadistic hooligans!

They can't just humiliate a man like that.

I'd feel the same way if they did it to you.

But it won't happen like that.

I'm ready to talk, make concessions. I have an open mind.

But I won't let mental patients control me.

Send the ringleaders to jail!

It's always the same.

Give 'em an inch and they take a mile.

I've always been a liberal,

but sometimes what's needed is a good kick up the arse.

A good kick up the arse.

Georgette was talking to the reporter.

Luce, Simone, Natalie and I were listening.

Georgette was talking in a soft voice

about the factory, the assembly line,

the inspectors who grope you hoping they'll get lucky.

They're after you like dogs if you don't go along.

Even the working guys always whistle

and say disgusting things as you walk past.

She talked about her four kids and her boyfriend,

housework after her shift

and housework before her shift,

about cooking dinner, and how the clay care is miles away.

The fear of having another kid.

The doctor made her so afraid of the pill

that it took her two years to start using it.

Meanwhile, she had another mouth to feed.

I got irritated listening to her.

It was all true, but the way she told it was wrong.

The poverty that expensively dressed reporter was scribbling about

wasn't Georgette's.

I got fed up and felt like singing.

A leftist song.

You're going to get it, Mr Boss Man.

You want to deal with us? You'll find out you can't.

We can't be bought with a 10-franc raise this time.

Give us 100 and we'll ask for 1,000.

Give us 100,000 and we'll ask for more.

You tricked us with your representatives.

Your projects fail because we're against you.

We don't want categories and titles.

No more divisions! On the assembly line, we're one.

Funny. It's like TV.

A reporter asks dumb questions,

the guy talks and no one around him interrupts.

If Georgette heard herself, she'd be disappointed.

She'd be bored herself, and in her soft voice she'd say,

"It sounds so lame. Doesn't make you want to fight."

The reporter would stop in surprise.

I'm exaggerating. Georgette doesn't talk that much.

She's been locked up all day with that bastard.

Anyway, we can sing.

A leftist song.

You're going to get it, Mr Boss Man.

We're sick of waiting and getting clubbed.

The unions told us to be patient, and we kept on working.

But we never talked about struggle.

We've woken up and we've learned how to fight.

This time we'll decide how it goes.

And you who run away,

listen to the silence of your factories.

Tomorrow it may be machine guns you hear.

Oh, you're an athlete.

I got into the habit during my captivity. Keeps me in shape.

The cult of Swedish gymnastics

for healthy, tanned and fit managers.

Getting anywhere?

It's not easy. I'm missing some data.

Or maybe I have too much.

I don't even know if it can be published.

Though it's really not that extreme.

May I read it?

Yes, but be kind.

I need some more information.

Well, here I am.

Where the hell are they? They've been gone an hour.

It's the usual information meeting.

The union guys go on and on for hours.

Afterwards, everyone's even more confused.

You think it's going to fail?

What are you doing?

That's my business.

Shit!

All we've done since yesterday is wait outside this damned door!

A lot of good it does, holding the manager!

We don't know what to do with him. It's stupid!

What else can we do?

I don't know.

What do you think about those two?

The girl is pretty cute.

That's not what I meant!

I'm starting to think we made a mistake.

We should have explained things to them.

We don't even know what paper she works for.

What could she possibly write?

Maybe she won't write anything.

Once I worked in a place and a guy came and wrote an article,

but it was never published.

We should have explained it to them.

Explained what?

At first we were right to lock them up. But now it's different.

Stop dwelling on it.

Well?

Everyone's with us.

Isn't that what counts?

Even the CGT guys changed their tune.

They were really tough.

- Well? - That's where you're wrong.

They had no choice but to get tough.

They made a complete mess of it at first.

Then they just let it deteriorate

while yelling that management's offer was too low.

Doesn't stop them from scheming, though.

They know they'll wear us down.

- What happened? - We're still holding.

Except that our hostage-taking really sticks in their craw.

We didn't want Laffont to see the manager.

They finally managed to get the guys to agree.

We were watching like hawks for signs of betrayal.

You should have heard what they said.

What? Laffont, the assistant manager, is coming here?

Finally, we got out.

It's about time, Laffont.

I did what I could, sir.

STICK TO THE TRUTH, EVEN IF IT SEEMS UNLIKELY

I can't hear! What are they saying?

Sorry, but I want to speak to my associate alone.

Finally, we got out.

They looked at us and we looked at them.

I hope it didn't bother you too much staying here.

A day and a night with that guy wasn't too much fun.

With you guys, it would've been different.

So much was happening that we had no other choice.

We're not mad at you at all.

You're a reporter, right?

Yes.

Are you going to write about what's going on?

I'll try.

- Then we have to explain it to you. - What?

The factory and everything.

I think I understand the problem.

You haven't even asked any questions.

You didn't let me, but I understand that.

But I saw what happened.

The reasons are more complicated.

You have to hear about our working conditions.

When I started, I couldn't stand the smell.

I could still smell it after I left work.

Once, to tease me,

my friends started sniffing around and saying,

"Smells like a pig around here!"

I was just a kid, and I was embarrassed.

I spent a fortune on perfume!

That's not so bad. It's disgusting, but you get used to it.

But transporting the meat, that's really no fun!

Pigs are really heavy.

You see a new guy happily carrying tons of them.

After a few days, he can't even bend over.

That's not all. Think about the sausage room.

The sausage room?

Where the meat is stuffed into casings.

Then you tie them off.

You do that all day long.

You get breaks, but you stop noticing them.

It's incredibly boring and repetitive.

You try to think of something else, but you can't

because they keep speeding up the pace.

All you can think about is keeping up.

The foremen won't let you forget, and some of them are real pigs!

That's not right.

What's not right?

The way you explain things.

What's wrong with it?

Nothing. It's just not right.

I agree with him.

We're all mad at Stacquet and the CGT guys,

but we're talking just like they would.

- What nerve! - Don't get mad.

If Stacquet took them on a tour,

he'd say the same things we just said.

He'd show them the shop.

Then he'd say, "See how disgusting it is?"

"See how disgusting it is?"

"See how disgusting it is!"

Then he'd show them the union pamphlet.

Aren't we doing the same thing?

Except he thinks foremen are necessary.

He can't imagine a factory without foremen.

- He wouldn't mention them! - OK, OK.

These are good details to write an article about.

But you should write about what's happened since yesterday,

which is a big change for this factory.

The fact we locked up the manager.

- What is it? - You're fired.

- What? - You're fired.

- What? - Fired.

Germain fighting with Stacquet.

You've got a big mouth, like all leftists.

Lucien refusing to let the manager piss.

Sorry. You're too late!

I can't stand it!

It may not sound like much,

but it means a lot to me.

- Fine. Let's talk about it now. - OK.

When you read about a factory in the paper,

it's full of boring details

as if the guy had just discovered factories for the first time.

He feels pity. He practically cries.

But he never shows the struggle, how things change,

how good it can feel to lay into a real pain in the arse.

Workers are always made to look sinister.

It's complicated. I can't explain.

After the forces of law and order intervened,

work resumed today at the Salumi plant.

Mr Guidotti returned home after five days of confinement.

A reporter and her husband, who had also been detained,

returned to their regular occupations.

In Vietnam, communist forces attacked Lac Ninh.

A shower of rockets rained down on government forces.

- What's the footage? - 85.

- What's the f-stop? - 3.5.

- Roll the sound. - Yes, sir.

Check the framing.

Bring the 1000 forward.

Mark where the girls' feet are.

Move the two-kilo.

- Shine it on the door. - It's on.

Is that the 50?

Give me the 75.

Take this down for me.

What am I doing? You can see I'm starting a shoot.

No, a commercial.

Occasionally.

If you must define me,

say I'm a film-maker who sometimes makes commercials.

The distinction is important to me.

The advertising business?

Yes, it's pretty stupid and corrupt.

Did you see those agency guys on the set?

Unbelievable, huh?

Anyway, it's just a way to make a living

without too much trouble so I can do other things.

Or at least I try.

I used to make films.

For various reasons, I stopped, at least for a while.

I had to pay the rent.

I looked at all the possible things I could do.

It seems like the easy way out, and maybe it is,

but three years ago, it wasn't.

Oh, all kinds of reasons.

A lot of things influenced my decision.

What happened with Susan.

All kinds of things.

I told you I made films.

I was a screenwriter during the New Wave.

That's so long ago.

I really got sick of it.

Well before May '68,

I got tired of making art films.

I was going nowhere.

I was ready for May to hit me, and that's what happened.

Did I take part in May?

Yes and no, like everyone.

Most of my friends got caught up in it,

marching from the Odéon to the Sorbonne.

It was serious, and at the same time it wasn't.

You'd run into people at meetings where you couldn't help thinking,

"That joker's here?

"With the films he makes, he's got some nerve!"

Funny thing is, he probably thought the same thing about you.

You wouldn't believe how many things I saw back then

that drove me away.

That time in Flins, for example.

Or the week I spent in Issy-les-Moulineaux

with a guy who called himself a Marxist-Leninist

and who knew the factory guys, the CSF.

And Susan and I...

that was right at the beginning.

We lived through the month of May together.

It sounds silly and romantic,

but it was great.

When everything returned to normal

and they asked me to direct an adaptation

of an American detective novel by David Goodis,

I gave it all up.

It seemed a ridiculous waste of time.

I figured it was more honest to make commercials

than to make such a stupid film.

I gave it some thought.

I still think about what I could do,

what the system would let me do.

What kinds of films I could try to make.

I've been planning a political film about France for three years.

It's not that easy.

I'm only now starting to understand things

that Brecht pointed out over 40 years ago.

Do you know his preface to "Mahogany"?

Isn't it brilliant?

Political activity?

No, not in the usual sense.

For years, I voted communist as a reflex.

But I was never a member of the party.

Meetings for the Rosenbergs,

demonstrations during the Algerian War,

May Day. Spain...

Then there was May '68 and Czechoslovakia.

It got to be too much, and I couldn't do it anymore.

Now?

Now things are more clear-cut, but more complicated, too.

Leftists? Yes, I know lots of them.

In their eyes, I'm a democrat.

They call me sometimes. It doesn't much help.

I find the idea of re-education for intellectuals a little disturbing.

Maybe the people I know just don't explain it well.

Anyway, most people I know

went back to their status quo,

in particular in the Communist Party.

The hostage-taking?

You mean at the factory where I went with Susan?

To tell you the truth, I didn't know how to react.

It was like someone gave me a role to play

and I kept forgetting my lines.

I went there to see a factory three years after May

and listen to some hotshot manager go on and on.

I got what I asked for.

I'm sorry, but I have to get back to it. Bye.

Music!

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It's going to be ice-cold.

Rattlesnake, cobra...

Still in a bad mood?

Don't you think last night was enough?

I wanted sex and you didn't. So what?

Don't start!

Even if I wasn't in a bad mood, saying that would put me in one.

OK, I was wrong to say that.

But you're bringing your work problems home.

Can't we talk about this calmly?

There are two issues.

They won't print your articles, and you have writer's block.

It happens. Don't beat yourself up.

It's like traffic.

Traffic?

Yes. You're jammed.

- I'm jammed? - I didn't mean it to be nasty!

I'll end up wondering why we're together.

- Start now. - Start what?

Wondering why we're together.

We meet, we watch a film, we eat, we have sex.

That's about it.

Just about.

I forgot. Every few months, we fight.

- What you said is very interesting. - Thanks.

When you talk about what we do, you say,

"We meet, we watch a film or something, we eat,

"we go to bed, maybe we have sex."

Say it again so I can be sure.

- You're a pain in the arse. - Say it again.

We watch a film, we eat, we have sex,

and I'll add this, "I'm sick and tired of it."

And you're sick and tired of it.

I've been trying to tell you

that if you want to talk about what we do together,

what works and what doesn't, you have to say more.

More!

Yesterday, for example.

You shot a commercial,

my article was rejected,

I fought with my editor,

we met, we watched a film,

we ate, we went to bed, maybe we had sex,

you left to edit your commercial, and I went back to the agency.

See the difference? You... and me.

You're saying the same thing I am

For once, I don't think so.

For once, I don't think so.

When you think of us, you think one, two, three.

I agree with the headings film, food and sex.

But to understand your dissatisfaction

you have to understand what's outside those headings.

Understand my dissatisfaction?

Yes, understand.

- So that's it? - Yes, that's it. Nothing else.

I should have known.

You told me yourself that sexuality couldn't be understood by itself.

- Yes. - Then do what you said.

Since it's about you, for once.

Your "What do we do together?" summons up only one picture.

Paste this picture on your forehead.

You have this picture in your head -

a woman's hand on a man's penis.

You think it satisfies you less than three years ago.

Is the performance over?

Hold on!

I have that picture in my head, just like you!

I know what I do with you - eat and have sex.

But to imagine that pleasure and how it's changed,

I need a picture of him at work.

Look at the frame.

Show a bit more leg.

And this picture.

And this picture of me at work.

So you see it's a bit more complicated.

- So will you tell me about your work? - There's nothing to tell.

Then why keep doing it?

So we can live, for one thing. Maintain this lifestyle.

You know why I decided to do commercials.

You agreed with me that it was more honest.

It's been three years now. Maybe it's time to take a fresh look.

This is a stupid argument. We'll talk tonight.

We'll talk tonight.

Maybe you're right.

We're getting nowhere.

Since you won't talk about what I want,

let me say, first, I don't know what I'm doing here.

Let me talk! And second,

the agency wants to send me back to the States,

and third, you can drive me to the airport.

NOW (1)

When I think about our fight, I think she was right.

When I think of Susan and me,

I think of the two days we were held at the factory.

I was passive, incapable of talking to those guys.

Anything I said completely missed the mark.

There were about 10 people there doing something new

and who were happy to be doing it,

and what they were doing was the result of May '68.

We probably saw each other at Denied

or at the Gare de Lyon

or in early June in Flins.

We thought it was the end,

but now we know it was a beginning.

May 1972.

It's only now, four years later,

that I see clearly the willingness to fight of the part of some

and the hypocrisy of others.

Don't go there!

Listen to me!

The party said not to.

"Today's events in Flins show

"to what extent the aims of the Gaullist police

"are the same as the Geismar groups."

Since May '68, many problems have shifted.

It's only now that I can sum up how those changes relate to other things.

Don't go there! The party said not to.

"Today's events in Flins show

"to what extent the aims of the Gaullist police

"are the same as the Geismar groups."

That's what it says!

Don't go there!

Two against one! Let's go!

Arsehole!

My problems started when I stopped doing my job

as a progressive intellectual.

A hasty signature for Brazil or Vietnam, a quick visit to hunger strikers,

a short meeting at the union hall.

I left the party without realising that I'd borrowed from them

a way of understanding my role as an intellectual.

My job is to make films,

to find new forms for new content.

His name is Gilles. He was born on April 17, 1951.

He's a student at the Lycée Thiers.

Gilles, they'll say you deserved to die as an "agitator".

I who fought beside you can find no more beautiful name to give you.

They'll say that all you knew was family and school

and that you learned about the world from books.

I say your books thrust you into life

because from them you learned to unlearn.

At 4:00 on 3rd May, you joined forces with life

and carried on your struggle in the light of day.

At 4:00 today, 10th June, you joined forces with history

and met your death, leaving us behind.

Don't cry, brother. We'll carry on!

CLASS STRUGGLE

Dunkirk.

Hénin-Liétard.

Vallourec.

Béziers.

Faulquemont.

Nanterre.

Ferodo.

Valentine.

Nantes-Batignolles.

Palais des Sports.

Peugeot-Montbéliard.

Affaire Guyot.

Pennaroya.

Berliet-Monplaisir.

Le Mans.

Prison de Toul.

Renault-Billancourt.

- Come on. - You had it coming to you.

Move along now.

Get a move on, you bastards!

Nice one! Pleased with yourselves, are you?

NOW (2)

I knew I probably shouldn't say no.

But I didn't know it would be you.

Now I know, and I say no.

It's one right decision among the many possible.

Anyway, I want to work.

And going to Lille with you today isn't working.

Yeah, we're travelling at different speeds.

At the moment, you can't help me, and I can't help you.

Right. We're each on our own.

It's no big deal.

That's how it goes.

Damn it!

Something wrong?

No, everything's all right.

Another article the agency will reject.

I'll throw it at them, along with my resignation.

A little cog in the struggle.

All those idiots want to hear about

is large sales outlets and the changing urban landscape.

But if I talk about the people who sell and buy

here and now...

Change direction with the French Communist Party!

For a democratic government of the people!

4.75 francs, marked down from 5.50!

Change course. Choose democracy. Let the working classes unite.

Change course, ladies and gentlemen. 4.75 francs, down from 5.50 francs.

France, a country rich in natural and human resources

whose people's struggle for freedom

has furthered the history of human progress.

A supermarket.

700 million francs a day in sales.

A large sales outlet, and social theatre at the same time.

Everyone's shouting... except the audience.

They pay and pretend to keep their mouths shut.

No one addresses them yet.

Outside the factory, it's still like a factory.

No one talks to anyone else.

They're all waiting for new actors.

4.75 francs, marked down from 5.50!

Change direction with the French Communist Party!

For a democratic government of the people!

Live better!

"A democratic government would allow

"blue-collar and white-collar workers

"wage-earners or not, a better life."

- Can I see your book? - Ask politely.

Sorry. May I look at your book?

Yes, we're interested in hearing from young people.

- Thank you. - You're welcome.

Change direction with the French Communist Party!

4.75 francs, marked down from 5.50!

I don't understand this part about culture.

"Encouraging creativity in all sectors will stimulate the nation's progress

"and pave the way for improved personalities and human relations."

It's a bit confusing.

You just opened it! You can't have analysed it.

He asked you a question. Answer it!

- Are you a militant? - Of course I am.

Did you write that? Then explain it.

Come see me at my office.

No!

Instead of hawking your books like vegetables, explain your politics.

Absolutely not!

You can't answer a simple question about the first sentence.

You're all witnesses! He's a troublemaker!

Questioning things doesn't make me a troublemaker. Answer the question.

Well? You have no idea how to relate to people.

- Stop causing trouble. - Why won't you answer me?

Time for change and democracy. Let the working classes unite.

4.75 instead of 5.50 francs.

- You're a troublemaker. - I'm not a troublemaker.

4.75 instead of 5.50 francs.

Change course with the French Communist Party.

With the French Communist Party. Change course.

No more hatred and violence. Working class people unite.

4.75 instead of 5.50 francs.

It's free! Help yourselves!

It's free!

It's free!

To change everything, where do you start?

Everywhere!

Cops! Bosses! Murderers!

NOW (2)

NOW (3)

All films have an ending.

Him or Her, looking worriedly at the other and saying,

"I was afraid you wouldn't come back. "

Then Her or Him looking worriedly at the other,

replying, "You should have been."

Some films make the audience think that He and She solve one problem,

only to go on to the next, and that that's how life is.

Bu! in this film, we leave Him and Her

looking at each other wordlessly.

We'll just say that He and She

have started to think of themselves in a historical context.

Each his own historian.

Me. France. 1972.

It's sunny in France

Nothing else matters

France. 1972.

History. Me.

Me. You.

Cops! Bosses! Murderers!

Me. You.

You don't have to be a leftist to think like that.

France. 1972.

Sometimes what's needed is a good kick up the arse.

The CGT.

Let's all live life to the fullest!

It's sunny in France

Nothing else matters

Each his own historian.

We'd be more careful about the way we live.

Me, you, him, her, us, all of you.

FINISHED

THIS HAS BEEN AN ACCOUNT FOR THOSE WHO DON'T KEEP THEM