All language subtitles for At.Work.2025

Sweep it properly there.

I'll call them back, I'll call them back.

To put it simply,

I gave up photography to become a writer.

Staying a writer was another story.

It's fine, I'll take it.

Here.

Thanks.

Do you have the registration papers?

'Here, your fan mail.'
'Thanks.'

Right.

Paul, your books are a real critical success.

The press likes you, but let's be honest.

Sales are disappointing.

We did everything we could for the last one,
but it didn't help.

How many copies did you sell?

Less than 5,000.

Oh.

That's not totally awful.

'Yeah.'
'For some people, that's enough.'

But it's your third book.

Okay, and my manuscript?

Too autobiographical.

'Oh, really.'
'If you want my opinion,'

A breakup story is risky.

And even the title, 'A Story of an Ending'...

But it's a love story.

'The loss of an ideal.'
'Paul, do you read the news?'

We're told the apocalypse is coming every 10 minutes.

People need energy, hope.

You can do better.

Think about it.

'I’d like to, but...'
'But what?'

It's going to take me some time.

I'm not in a hurry.

Things aren't easy right now.

I'm a little strapped for cash.

'I gave you an advance
for this book.'

I can't do any more.

Paul, it's your fourth book.

Today, I'm expecting your big novel.

And right now, we're not there yet?

No.

I've finished packing.

I should get a package tomorrow.
Can you open it?

Paul.

Are you listening?

Yeah.

'I said a delivery guy will come
tomorrow to drop off a package.'

Can you open it?

Yeah.

You're crazy to give up this apartment.

'What would I do with three bedrooms,
all by myself?'

I'm off.

'And the kids?'
'Montreal isn't that far.'

'Have you seen the ticket prices?'
'You’ll figure it out.'

You're really harsh.

No, I'm realistic.

I called Christine.

She said you can borrow her studio.

And your new book, how's it going?

'I'm working on it.'
'What'll you do if it flops?'

I don't know, I'm not there yet.

It's crazy

to quit photography just to write.

The crazy thing would’ve been to keep going.

'Why did you stop?
You were making good money.'

'If you’d read my first book,
you’d know, it’s about that.'

And your kids, are they okay?

They're moving very far away.

'They’re grown up.
They’re happy to follow their mother.'

Why would I stop them?

'And will a writer for a father
pay for their studies?'

What are you hoping for?

A Goncourt Prize?

A writer for a father.

I wish I'd had a writer for a father,
instead of mine.

That frustrated man,
held back eight hours a day.

Tied to his desk,

then to the living room sofa.

Silent, resigned.

Should I clear your plate?

'No, I’ll have some salad.'

Want some more wine?

'Around a family member,'

I'm the kid who never grew up.

The kid people like,
but don't really trust.

The one who still has to be told
to clean his room.

I should get my life in order.

The door opens.

'You okay?'
'Sorry.'

'I can’t help with my back.'
'Don’t worry, I’m almost done.'

Thanks, Dad.

Paul, come here a sec.

Take my signet ring,
sell it and keep the money.

- No, it's your father's.
Thanks.

As a photographer, I earned
about 3,000 euros a month.

Some years, 8,000.

Since I quit,

I only get 250 euros a month
in royalties.

200 or 300 euros a month,
it's not exactly poverty,

but you start
to get a pretty clear view of it.

It was when I had used up my savings
with no way to build them back up,

that I realized
I was becoming poor.

- You don't get unemployment benefits?
- No.

Do you speak English?

No, not really.

Any diplomas?

Just my high school diploma.

And you're 42.

I'd do any job.

But I'll need
time to write.

You want time off?

What are you thinking of?

I don't know... Night watchman?

- In a hotel or a parking lot.
- Oh no, you don't find that anymore.

- To make ends meet,
become a Jobber and click here.

Signing up as a Jobber or Client
is free.

Warning,
with 15 Jobbers for 1 Client,

competition is fierce,
you have to be energetic and motivated.

What are your skills?
You'll be rated, don't cheat.

Hmm, moving.

DIY...

- Now, facing the camera,
introduce yourself in 8 seconds.

Smile, inspire confidence,
that's the key to success.

- Hello,
my name is Paul, I'm 42.

Hello, I'm Paul.

I'm careful,

efficient and punctual.

Don't hesitate to call on me.
Thank you.

- If you add a photo,
you increase your chances.

A photo is taken.

Congrats! You're a Jobber.

- (ironically)
- Great.

After reading my first book,
a literary journalist told me:

'You'll go far.'

I went to Pigalle Street,
to the 6th floor of a building under renovation.

They speak in a foreign language.

The platform's principle
is simple.

A client expresses
a need for a service

that Jobbing immediately offers
to several workers.

The downward bidding begins.

A one-euro difference in the price
is enough to lose the job.

The cheapest one takes it all.

It's miserable, because competition
has no price floor.

You okay, Uncle?

- Yeah, yeah.

Don't overfill the bag.

These odd jobs have the advantage

of leaving me time to write.

That's how,
through a poorly paid job site,

for which nothing had prepared me,
that I changed my life.

Paul?

- Yeah.
- You don't have a lawnmower?

- No, you have a garden,
I thought you'd have the mower.

- No, I would've mowed it myself.

Your neighbors probably have one.

- No, I don't want to,
they're all idiots.

I found this.

Will this do?

I'll manage.

It's going to take forever.

I found this too.

It just has to be decent
so I can get my deposit back.

I'll do my best.

OK.

So?

Perfect.

- We said 18 euros?
- Yes.

Thanks.

Detached house, Noisy-le-Sec.

Travel plus lawn, 5 hours.

Total, 18 euros.

Customer with weird shoes.

Buttoned blouse, Tuesday with Thursday.

Back strain.

Having the right tools.

'Hello.'
'It's for a package.'

First, say hello.

'What's that noise?'
'It's the construction.'

You okay?

Yeah, yeah.

When I get to a client's place,
I look at their feet.

'Hello.'
'Hello.'

If they're in socks,

I take my shoes off too.

'Come in, go ahead.'

You're good, you can hold it?

Yeah, yeah.

I take what I'm given,

and the worst client
isn't the one who pays little

but the one who stays with me
to check my work.

'He stresses me out more.'
'What are you doing?'

It's for the dust.

You're going to drill?

Yes, to hang the mirror.

I'm a tenant.

- It's allowed,
if you fill the holes afterwards.

Where do I put the flat screen?

- Follow me.

- Excuse me.

(Hello?)

Paul, it's me.

Tell me, you didn't forget
the first-time novelists' cocktail?

- Léa Huttin says you didn't answer.
- When is it?

- December 18th.
- Ah, yes.

- You have to come, you're the sponsor.
We're counting on you.

OK, I'll be there.

- What are you doing?

- I'm working.
- Are you writing?

Yes.

- I'll let you go.
I don't want to interrupt you.

I can't wait to read it. Work well.

- What the hell are you doing?
You're not serious!

"The Pool"

Stop it, damn it!

Ah!

The pizzas.

Thank you.

- Do you have the order number?
- Yes, who has the order number?

Uh... 79.

The beers aren't there.

- I told you.
- But I paid for them.

- I'm making punch.
- Thank you.

Are you Sarah's friend?

No, I'm Paul.

- Paul?
- The wardrobe.

- Ah, Paul!
Yes, go ahead, come in.

- Sorry,
I don't have anything for a tip.

- You can put it on the app.
- Oh?

- Yeah.
- Uh, how do you leave a tip?

- Wait, I'll show you.
Look, here.

Are there no other screws?

- I don't know, I just opened it,
I didn't understand anything, I closed it.

Have you been doing this for a long time?

Not really.

- You don't look like you do this.
- Yeah.

You look more like a...

doctor.

Or a teacher.

- Yeah.
- Because of the glasses, probably.

What are you?

You see, a kind of repairman.

Mmh...

- I do design.
- Me too, we work together.

Is it good?

Meh.

We work on food.

We design ham packages.

It's fine, I'm not complaining.

I make a good living.

Are we going to Léa's party?

Yeah, why not?

- Are you coming with us?
- No.

- Excuse me.

This wardrobe,

I don't know why I bought it.

The other day, after the news,
I bought a rowing machine.

Why do you do

these crappy jobs?

You could live normally.

'Normally'?

Do other things.

Like what?

- Something else.
- You're an artist.

You don't want to compromise yourself.

You want to stay pure.

You're playing poor.

I'm not playing.

You're not really poor.

- 'The opposite of a thing
is not its opposite,

but that same thing
modified by the adjective true.'

Aldous Huxley.

Didn't understand a word.

Stop it.

What is a poor person?

The homeless in India,

the destitute in Madagascar.

The ones in Mexico too.

I've traveled, I've seen them.

- There are 11 million in France,
but they wouldn't count,

because the real ones are elsewhere?

Come on, stop.

She's talking about you.

Yeah.

I'm just saying you have a choice.

It bothers you

that I don't have a normal job,
but I do what I can.

I need meaning.

You're judging me.

- No.
- Yes, you are.

She says I have a choice

to imply
that I'm making the wrong choices.

Good for you if you're making the right ones.
I'm not condemning you.

- Paul, it's fine.
Don't turn this around.

I can't believe this!

You're the one
who chose a slave job.

- Maybe that's
the price of my freedom.

And you know, these days,
some slaves are very well paid.

- OK, I'm a well-paid slave,
but I have a family,

a real job,
and I take responsibility.

I'm going.

Kiss, Dad.

- There are books
that make money.

Write something that sells.

- You're crazy
to leave this apartment.

I liked the view.

- It had a great view.
- No.

- You're crazy
to leave this apartment.

No.

(Paul's voice)
You're lying, that's not the real reason.

You're not giving...

the right...

reason.

(Paul and his ex-wife's voices)
The reason is, you're hurting too much.

- (his sister's voice)
- You're not really poor.

- (his father's voice)
- Write a book that sells.

- Could you take the futon
down to the bulky waste?

My boyfriend can't carry anything.

Yeah, I've got staples.

- We also have a washing machine
to take down.

But it's not very big.
It's a 5-kilo one.

- I'm going to need
a hand.

Get behind it.

Yes.

Coming.

Here?

Wait, there.

Wait.

- Will it be okay?
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

OK.

Ah!

Futon, futon.

Fucking shitty mezzanine!

Fuck!

- Careful, careful, I'm putting it down.
- Yes.

Two seconds, two seconds.

I can't take it anymore.

It's too hard.

Sorry, okay.

OK.

No, I'll take care of it.

- Really?
- Really.

I'm sorry, okay.

What a nightmare!

- You okay?
- Yeah, yeah.

Sorry, okay.

It hurts when I breathe in.

- That's normal.
How did you do that?

I don't know... A wrong move.

- Hold it there.

Step on the scale.

All right, get dressed.

You'll need an X-ray, even though to me,
it looks like just a tear.

- You never know.
- What bad luck.

- I'll give you iron, but you need
to eat more red meat.

Can you add some Doliprane for me?

Ouch...

It won't cost you anything, you're on CMU.

But rest for at least a month.

I need to work a little.

He exhales softly.

Voices of passersby

These days,
job postings are scarce.

A strategy to get Jobbers
to buy the premium subscription?

I end up taking the paid plan
to boost my potential.

Competition keeps getting tougher,
and I keep lowering my rates

until I reach humiliating prices.

It's white gold.

I can't see the hallmark.

It comes from Switzerland.

Okay, let's take a look.

I'm going to rub it,
but it won't damage it, right?

Mm-hmm.

Yes.

I'm sorry, it's not gold,
it's gold-plated.

What?

- If the acid mark disappears,
that means there's no gold.

And there, it's gone.

There's no gold?

Almost none, and then the...

The plating is very thin.

Oh.

- What are you going to do with it?

I don't know.

I'll take it off your hands.

- Ah.
- There you go.

How much?

Oh, uh...

For the stone, uh...

30 euros.

- OK.
- Yeah?

- Your father doesn't use it.
- Thanks.

- Be careful.
It's a collector's item now.

She speaks Portuguese.

- Becoming poor
isn't about living simply.

On the contrary, poverty
makes life much more complicated.

Toilet paper
that has to be rationed

to the temperature of my apartment,
which I'm trying to lower.

There's always something
to sacrifice when you live with little.

- Welcome back.

Have a good evening.

Good evening, thanks for waiting.

Gare du Nord?

Uh, yes.

Paul?

Do you recognize me?

Yes, of course.

Pierre.

What are you doing in this taxi?

I'm working.

You don't do photography anymore?

No.

I quit.

Oh, really.

You... You...

You drive a taxi?

Among other things.

- I work in Paris,
but I live in London now.

Yeah, I know.

I have a son.

I know that too.

Facebook.

Ah, yes.

'Joe le Taxi'
(Vanessa Paradis)

Joe the taxi driver, he doesn't go everywhere

He doesn't run

At the soda shop

His yellow saxophone

Knows every street by heart

All the little bars

All the dark corners

And the Seine

And its bridges

That shine

In his cab

Joe's music

- Bye, Paul.
- Bye.

The door slams.

- Give me your number.
- What?

- Hurry up, give me your number.

06.39.98.24.08.

I'll call you.

I want you to tell me everything.

- I loved your book.
It's beautiful.

See you later.

Isn't Paul Marquet here?

- Sorry?
- Paul Marquet.

Alice?

- It doesn't work?
- No, my code won't open it.

- Can you hold it?
Wait.

Christmas has just ended.

I'm busy helping people get rid
of their Christmas trees.

I chop wood

to make a fire at home.

- Châteauneuf-du-Pape.

It's delicious!

Ah!

Montlabert 2020.

A Côtes du Rhône?

Which rat brought this swill back?

- I'm here,
but I'm not really here anymore.

- Not for my son, not for my daughter.
- When are you coming?

- It's complicated right now.
I checked the tickets.

I'll find a way.

Do you want a hand?

Oh, I'd love that, yes.

That's Poney Magazine there.

We don't even sell them,
no one buys them.

Between my job as a writer

and that of a laborer,

socially, I'm no longer anything specific.

I am to poverty what 5 p.m.

is to darkness in winter.

It's dark,
but it's not night yet.

I'll be honest with you.

The writing isn't up to par.

I sent it to the reading committee
to see if I was missing something.

No one is excited about it.

You write well,

you've got sensitivity, talent,

but that's not enough.

- You mean I should stop?
- No.

I'm just saying that we
won't publish this book.

Hello?

Hello, Dad?

Am I waking you up?
Bursts of voices

No, it's fine, I'm awake.

Are you drunk?

No, no, Dad,
can you hear me or not?

- Not very well, my son,
there's a lot of noise.

I'm in a bar
with some friends, I'm partying.

- But why are you calling me?
Is everything okay?

Yeah, everything's great.
Can you hear it?

'The Old Couple'
(Serge Reggiani)

It's our song!

Yeah.

What are you celebrating?

We're celebrating my internship.

I got accepted at Morgan Stanley.

It's huge,
it's a great company.

- I'm glad you called me
to share that with me.

You're my father,
of course I'd tell you.

It's crazy,
my friends are so jealous!

- Dad, are you proud of me?
- Of course.

Can you say it to me,
please?

I'm proud of you, my son.

I'll send you some money.

- No.
Keep your money, everything's fine.

Kisses.
I love you, enjoy the celebration.

I love you, Dad.
- Kisses.

Kisses.

- You could've asked me.
It's filthy, too.

I'm sorry.

- Now,
I can't even use it anymore.

Listen, Paul.

It's not a good idea
for Christine to put you up.

It makes me uncomfortable.

And it's not helping you.

You're not a kid anymore.

Why are you living like this?

- What are you doing?
- I'm trying to write.

But what are you writing?

And what's the point of it?

Okay, you got published,
you were on TV, on the radio...

So what?

You can see nothing's happening.

There's no point in being stubborn.

Christine is taking back the studio
for her grandson.

You should've said so.

It scares me.

I don't want you ending up
on the street like a bum.

'The Old Couple'
(Serge Reggiani)

What I like about this duet

Is that you sing the high part

You're the one who knows

You're the one who speaks
You're the one who thinks, and I just am

But on big nights
When you cry

When you're afraid

In your little boat

I'm the one talking

For hours on end

We are, in short,

An old married couple

I don't even remember where I met you

Was it at school or at the puppet show

I remember that innocent kid

Who had lost his way

Since then, I've kept you from drinking

Except on big nights

In your little boat

When you sing me your troubles

We are, in short,

An old married couple

Come in, come in.

Hello.

Hello.

Watch the door, and the dog.

- Excuse me.

He slams the door.

Should I take off my shoes?

No, it's on the balcony, come on.

It's this way.

Boxwood.

There's potting soil, we'll have to mix it
so we can replant.

- OK.
- No, don't stay there, you'll get dirty.

Come on, come on, come on.

You can put that there.

Should I remove the roots too?

Yes, of course.

I'll close it,

- for the dog.
- My tools.

Thanks.

OK, I'm closing it, all right.

(-Oh, shit...)

Shit!

Shit...

Shit...

- Are you done?
- Yes, should I bring the bags down?

I'd appreciate it, thanks.

- You have a magnificent view.
- Yeah...

And the back?
You didn't do the back.

The balcony turns a corner,
didn't you see?

Go around,
please, I'll show you.

I put it in the listing:
16 planters.

I'm sorry.

- I can't stand
these boxwoods anymore, they depress me.

You're here
to make money, right?

I'll pay you double.

Hey.

- Hey, Dad, you okay?
- Hey!

Yes, and you?

- Yeah.
- Look.

We waited for you for the cake.
Eighteen years, after all.

- Yeah.
- Here you go, beautiful.

Come on!

1, 2, 3!

Yeah!

- Happy birthday, darling.
- Thanks!

What's with that haircut?

It was easier that way for everything.

So, the presents!

- Here, doll.
- Thanks, what is it?

- Oh, they're so pretty, thanks!
- Show Dad.

- He'll be happy.
- The ones I wanted.

- Nice color.
- Yeah.

- Those are the 'gazelles'.
- Yes.

- It's for you.
- What's that?

You're gonna laugh.

- I'm gonna laugh?
- His gifts are always a surprise.

- A T-shirt?
- Yeah, look.

- Let me see.
- That's ridiculous!

- Show me.
- Thanks.

- Show him.
- I'm gonna wear this a lot.

- It's nice.
- Oh, wow!

I'll go get...

Here, you have this too.

- Is this one from you?
- Yes.

You dressed up?

Yeah, do you like it?

Wait, I'll open it.

Thanks, it's pretty.

- It was at Lake Blanchette.
You had just turned seven.

Do you remember?

Not really.

- On the way, we talked about our
favorite things, and you said 'Clouds'.

So here's a photo of you and the clouds
reflecting in the lake water.

It's beautiful.

- You can frame it.
- Okay.

I won't stay long because
I'm meeting some friends.

- Should I let you go?
- Yeah.

I'm hanging up

- Or should I put Mom on?
- Put her on for a second.

- Mom?
- Yes?

- Dad.
- I saved you a piece of cake.

- Dad, I'm going too.
- Kisses, sweetheart.

Kisses.

- Go ahead, I'm listening.

Is she mad at me?

No.

Not at all,
she's just worried, that's all.

Why?

I think the way...

you live isn't very reassuring
for a girl her age.

At her age, you need...

something solid, and your instability,

that's not reassuring for her.

I have a question.

- Go ahead.
- Has she read my books?

Honestly, I don't think so.

But nobody's read them here.
We're too scared of what we might find.

- But I don't get it, what things?

Listen, you know very well.

Stuff about us, I don't know,
what's going on in your head.

Honestly, it's awkward, that's all.

Promise me you'll never again
write about us in your books.

But why?

- It's our life.
- It's my life too.

- We have the right
not to want to be...

Put on display like that, it's intimate.

You can understand that, right?

If you want to write,

make up stories,
you've got imagination.

- When the plane is delayed like this,
is the waiting time billed?

No, it's a flat rate.

Anyway, it's up to you.

Go to the front,
the back seat is stuck.

You're going to
12 President Wilson Avenue, right?

- In Fontainebleau?
- Yes.

- Do you have music?
- I only have the radio.

Turn on the radio.

'Foule sentimentale'
(Alain Souchon)

It rises

From these packing boxes

Washed-up people, worn out

Sad and with no advantage at all

They inflict on us

Desires that torment us

They take us, no kidding,
from the moment we're born

For idiots, when we're really

Sentimental crowds

Thirsting for ideals

Drawn to stars, to sails

Only things that aren't commercial

Sentimental crowd

He didn't say anything.

He knows.

That's how it is.

No, but...

he was so...

cold...

so distant.

You see?

Ice-cold.

As if there had...

never been anything.

No life.

No history.

No children.

Nothing.

It's okay.

Yeah.

Uh...

You had to turn right.

I'll go around.

- It's just after
the white van.

- I'll help you
carry your suitcase up.

That's kind of you.

Maybe you want to
charge your phone a bit?

Yes, why not.

It's been a long time
since I made love.

I'm a little intimidated.

Me too.

I don't know how to do it anymore.

You're gurgling.

I'm hungry.

I'm sorry.

I don't have anything to offer you.

- I just got back.
- It'll pass.

Engine revving

- Tell me you like me a little.

Good evening.

Good evening.

- Sorry I'm late.

It'll be fine.

- I'm vegetarian,
I don't eat meat anymore.

Are you still driving a cab?

Yeah.

It's on me.

- Sorry, it's work.
- What kind of work?

- Like right now,
it's to clear out a cellar.

- Clear out a cellar?
But...

how much do you charge for that?

- How much would you pay?
- To clear out my cellar?

Uh...

100 euros?

Yeah, you're generous.

That won't fly.

I'll offer 20.

20? Oh, no.

I mean, that's not enough.

- Yeah,
but there are a lot of us on the market.

I landed the job.

So,

how did you end up
doing these jobs?

I mean...

I mean, you're smart

and there are a thousand ways
to make money.

You could give
lessons or advice.

It pays well.

No offense, okay?

I'm ordinary.

I'm caught in the grind,
I've got a good job, a nice house.

It's hyper-consumerism, basically.

Anyway, you're slowing down.

That's good.

Sorry.

Paul?

What's going on?

I'm worried,
you're not answering your phone.

It stinks in there, open a window.

But...

What did you do?

It's a deer.

I cut it up.

You're completely nuts!

- I can't take this crap anymore!
- No!

I'm sorry, sir.

The hard drive won't mount.

There's nothing we can do.

- Was there anything personal
on it?

Yes, my work.

- Oh.
And what do you do?

A book.

I've lost everything.

Everything I love.
I've got nothing left.

Nothing at all.

- You know, I think
you should go home,

get some sleep, and you'll feel better after.

I don't have a home anymore.

My father is right,
I'll end up on the street.

- What are you talking about?

Nothing, sorry, I'm tired.

Do you want to rest?

Then follow me.

- Can you watch the register?
- Of course.

There you go.

This is where I take my nap.

Make yourself comfortable.

And there you go.

(-Thanks.)

- Yeah, my girlfriend.

Yeah, she's pregnant,
she'll be here soon.

Of course.

And you, how about you?
Work's going well, right?

Yeah.

You okay, uncle?

You okay, sir?

Yes, yes.

No, not you.

I'm talking to a customer here.

Uh, yeah, I'm at the café.

I'm on the job.

- Can I help you?
- Hello, Agathe.

Sorry, I didn't recognize you.

Here, this is for Alice.

Yes, I'll pass it on to her.

- I'm counting on you.
- I promise.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

Dear Alice,

here's a new piece.

It's about my navel.

And about you, my children,

my father,

and a whole bunch of people
I've run into over the past few months.

I also think
it's about our times.

You'll see.

- That jacket!
- It's gorgeous, right?

Oh yeah, I love it.

Look in the mirror.

HELLO.

- Here, this is from Paul Marquet.
- Thanks.

- Do you do house calls?
- Yes.

- I have a big picture window
and I'm looking for someone...

(Thanks.)

- I'll take over for madam.
- Yes.

Agathe?

- At the copier.
- Ah, OK, thanks.

A phone rings.

- Type it, print it, and read it again.
- OK.

- Do you speak English?
- The pizzas.

- Not really.
- A degree?

- Just my high school diploma.
- What's your job?

Writer.

Something else.

This isn't an Ikea mezzanine.

- A Côtes-du-Rhône?

Is that your job?

- You don't really
look like you're up for this.

And the punch?

The dog, the door...

- You'll have to sweep up there.
It's a mess.

- It's midnight
and I need to pee.

I take the smallest road,

the one no road sign
is urging me to take.

I stop

and get out
to assess the damage.

Nothing serious,
but I'm upset.

I hear a scraping sound
on the road behind me.

There, about ten meters away,

a shape on the ground is moving.

A roe deer.

The roe deer is on the ground.

Not dead,
but its legs or back are broken.

I can't leave
without trying something.

- National Gendarmerie, how can I help?
- Yes, good evening, ma'am.

I hit a roe deer,
it's in the middle of the road...

- Are you injured?
- No.

- I'm calling about it.
- Listen.

This is the line
for helping humans.

I blame myself for hurting
the only trace,

the only remnant of beauty
in these devastated places.

Standing,

in front of it,

I look at it for a moment.

I have no knife, no lethal tool
to end the animal's torment.

I decide to strangle it.

This suffering,

this condemned beauty,

this drama,

it's also a lot of meat.

He's nauseous.

The writer maintains a fire
that only asks to be extinguished.

Finishing a text
does not mean being published,

being published does not mean being read,

being read does not mean being loved,

being loved
does not mean being successful,

being successful
does not augur any fortune.

However,

writers are immune to discouragement.

Many of them, like me, right now,

are throwing their last bit of strength into the adventure.

- I read it.
Can we meet?

Uh... yeah.

Are you free for lunch?

Yeah, sure.

12:00 at Café du Gymnase.

OK.

- Do you want anything?
- A coffee, please.

The text is good.

We're going to publish it.

It's your next book.

But I have a problem.

What?

Listen,

we already paid you
an advance on the other book.

Now, you decided to write
about your situation as a struggling writer.

It's good, very good even.

But I can't pay you more.

You understand?

As long as I'm writing.

A door opens.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- Here you go.
- Thanks, I'm really touched.

Hello.

Hello.

For Inayat.

- Inayat...
- I-N-A-Y-A-T.

- Thank you very much.
- Thank you.

Hello.

- Sorry.
- For Marie.

- Marie.
- On the title page.

Yes.

I really like your work.

That's kind, thank you.

Thank you very much.

- Here you go, Marie.
- Thanks, good luck.

- Hello.
- Hello.

It's for my mother, Sabrina.

Thank you.

Sorry, who is it for?

Alexandre.

- Thank you.
- Thank you very much.

- It's for Marguerite.

- Excuse me, I'll be right back.

(-You okay?)

- One second.
- Of course.

Hello, how are you?

- I'm good, you, Dad?
- Yes, yes, I'm fine.

I'm doing very well.

So,

what's new?

Dad, I'm calling...

because I read your book.

What?

I read your book.

I don't know how to tell you...

It made me cry.

Ah, shit.

I didn't write it
for people to pity me.

No, no, that's not it.

It's the writing that moved me.

- Really?
- Yeah.

I love when you mow the lawn
with scissors.

And when the cop stops you
for the seatbelt, it's hilarious.

You know, I told my friends

that you were a writer.

And now I get it,
I'm going to give them your book.

I'm so proud of you, Dad.

- Dad, can you hear me?
- Yes.

Why aren't you saying anything?

Because I don't know what to say.

Because it makes me happy.

- As soon as I have a vacation,
I'll come see you in Paris.

And I'll crash at your studio.

- I'm not in a studio anymore,
I'm in a maid's room.

- A maid's room?
- Yeah.

- Then I'll crash
in your maid's room.

I was so happy
to read your book, Dad.

It was really important to me.

Love you, Dad.

Love you too, son.

With my courtesy,

my beginner's zeal,

I must have taken the place
of another worker, less flexible,

less smiling,
a guy eaten up by worries

that I don't have or that I've had

for so little time that I'm not
affected by them as strongly.

I am like many others,
lured by the flexibility of this system

and paradoxically, by the impression
of freedom that emerges from it.

The trap is awfully well thought out.

We are dealing
with a clever mix of freedom

and deprivation of it.

Availability

at all hours conditions
the possibility of making a living.

I fall asleep happy
if my rating is high

and anxious when it drops.

With 5 stars, we work more.

- Paul is nice
but not very talkative.

Someone speaks in a foreign language.

- The customer handles the carrot
and the stick themselves.

The rating can drop
suddenly, without reason,

affecting income long-term.

Platforms don't resort
to repression to keep us in line.

The algorithm
organizes the work for them.

- And a pack of rolling papers.
- Which ones?

The cheapest ones.

The bosses
don't fear their employees.

An admirable mechanism

of destruction

and waste recovery.

- Thank you very much.
- Thanks.

- There, it was nothing serious.
- Great.

- You said 25, right?
- Yes.

I have a friend moving tomorrow.

Can I give her your number?

Of course,

but I don't work in the morning.

In the morning, I write.