Original subtitles

Please, make them go away.

Are you asleep?

Are you sick?

No, I'm strong as a bull.

Maybe I was dreaming...

Did you see them too?

That same nightmare again.

Nightmares are... never the same.

Enough of this shit!

I'm not going to write...

anymore!

You're behaving like a child.

Stand up!

I want to look at you.

You are perfection.

But you have no right...

No right to accuse me.

Apple blossoms like you...

are a dime a dozen.

A dime a dozen...

And they never kept me waiting for a fuck.

I was a master.

A "sensei."

An expert in the matter...

for ages.

I was an obscene type...

you know?

Naturally.

Well, really!

Seems no one's home.

They shouldn't have left her alone like this.

- Poor thing. - Yeah.

Cigarette!

You in the will?

Not exactly.

Then your gesture is very kind.

It's nothing.

You're an American?

Does it show that much? A little.

How long have you been in Paris? How long would you say?

Two weeks at most. Not bad, 12 days.

Too early!

Too... wait!

"Too early... chop, chop!" What the hell is she talking about!

I've never seen anything like it!

Wish I had come here before.

You mean...

you're here by accident?

Good God! I was looking for an apartment.

- Maybe you found it. - Oh, no!

Too expensive.

It is a piece of old Paris.

You have the privilege of being the only man...

not to have known her.

Look!

Is this her?

Yes.

She is swell!

She was... until a few months ago.

No, she wasn't still working!

Right until the end!

She was...

the best.

Call me Joey.

Karl!

- What a way to meet. - The best!

A good omen.

Some things are lost forever.

She had a certain...

finesse.

Like great pianists... Cortot, Geiseking.

Have you ever heard them play? No.

You must.

Look, please.

These cunts don't age.

My God. Ageless, you're right.

Strange.

Miracles don't age.

They just... fade away.

She never gave anything for nothing.

She was of noble blood.

Russian aristocracy.

Are you coming?

- Where to? - To the cremation.

We need another witness.

It's the law.

All's well that end's well.

Apart from you, nobody showed up.

Weird, don't you think?

It's not the kind of publicity that does anybody any good.

Besides, this place isn't much fun.

Manouche is dead.

Long live Manouche.

The hottest piece of ass in Paris ends up in ashes.

It's perfectly understandable...

celestial fire or hellfire, who knows?

She left me an inheritance. Really?

What is it? No cash, I can assure you.

Debts probably.

Odd place this... to make an acquaintance.

We've been over that...

You're not French! French, British...

Warsaw.

My father was a Polish Immigrant.

He was a sculptor...

a painter, a poet.

Like Michelangelo.

Oscar Wilde, you like him?

I hate sculpture, but it fits here. It's right for the dead.

He wants me to collect the urn.

And you, my young Yankee friend, what do you do?

This and that.

And between this and that?

Proust is my only reason for being in Paris.

I don't believe it.

That's funny! That's really funny!

You find Proust funny. No, tragic.

But he's also my raison d'�tre. There is nothing I don't know about Proust.

Everywhere he lived, his favorite restaurant...

shops, clubs, bordellos. Everything!

Are you writing a book? A sort of almanac.

Yes, an almanac. I love almanacs.

I'm not interested in Proust. It's the money I want.

It's the money. Right, no sentimentality.

But he had qualities..

He furnished a bordello for men with his own mother's furniture.

Quite brilliant. Hmm, brilliant!

What a relief!

For a moment I thought you were one of those Yanks that hate oysters.

I adore them. They are alive! Live flesh.

Wait a minute... did you say "live flesh?"

Do you mean to say that you like that too?

Love it!

I suppose you'll invent another Manouche?

No, that's not possible.

Thank God. So devouring paper isn't enough for you?

I know your type. You can't go without it.

You have to screw them all!

I don't believe it!

You're a human being, after all.

Oh no, no! Enough of that!

If you want me to lead you into the magical maze...

you have to stop ruining good oysters with filthy beer right now.

I'll get you a decent bottle of wine.

Proust only drank iced beer. And apes only eat fried potatoes.

Well, fuck him! We've got better plans for tonight!

A Montrachet! What do you think? It was poor Manouche's favorite.

Wait here.

It seems a complicated matter.

You're okay...

I want you to have fun tonight.

I hope you're not taking me for a ride.

You know, a Yank in Paris looking for an apartment and a little love...

Like in New York...

New York! Jesus, we have to start over again!

We're here. Now, Joey, listen to me...

We're going to Sebastien's.

Sebastien's is obscene.

Really obscene.

Really!

Obscenity and sanctity. The fruit of the flesh.

Please no literature here. We've already had enough!

Sex to me is a restaurant... Hungry, you go in...

you pick, you eat and that's that.

- You stink! - Too sentimental...

Even gastronomy has it's limits.

You drink beer with oysters!

You'll have to play ball, Joey...

or leave Paris. Sebastien is a genius.

Or an idiot loaded with cash! That is a real genius!

- That was good. - Goddamn!

Oh, my God!

It is inevitable...

My subjects are always scandalous.

You are an American.

That seems to be obvious.

Obvious, but of no importance.

This is your lucky day. Our theme tonight is "From Hollywood to Sodom."

Sensuality, death-wishes, tragedy and desire!

Unfortunately, I'm from New York. Magnificent!

Tonight we are offering a prize for all of our friends from New York.

What brings you to this cesspool, my friend?

To meet you, Sebastien.

You are amusing, Joey.

You know my name... We call all American men "Joey."

Come along, Joey.

A homage to a young foreign writer loaded with talent.

For you... you get two presents!

Now let yourself go, Joey...

like the lotus flower caught in the snow.

I think I can be persuaded. Enjoy!

We are all dead people who have not yet begun to live!

Choose the room you want, I know them all.

And you, have you tried them all? She can't speak.

Really, is that a fact?

Is it like this in New York?

No, in New York we just make babies.

I'm disappointed. I was looking for something more subtle in Paris.

Is that so? You bet your bobby socks, sweetheart!

Then come on, you won't be disappointed this time.

Are you a free gift for an American?

Sorry, I'm not one of them. May I come with you?

Out of the question.

Good God!

Grandeur and decadence!

This is the heart of the house. There is nothing more special!

The Ancient Gods used to return to Earth...

to screw Man...

fornicate with animals and plants...

with the Elements.

So why do we repress our natural instincts?

Only when we are lost can we find ourselves.

For a poet... especially Yankee poets...

the road to Heaven passes through Hell.

The ultimate spasm leads not to blinding celestial light...

but to the nocturnal darkness...

of the crapper.

Oh Joey, breathe in the night!

The hairy fragrance of eternity.

I think Sebastien disappointed him. It's a game.

Sooner or later we all fail.

Sebastien like everybody else. He doesn't give anything away.

Are you offended?

No, it's given me food for thought.

Fantastic! It's still alive!

Joey, why don't you pick one out?

Miriam there will give you a passport to eternity.

No, first I have to rid myself of original sin.

What do you mean?

Five years in a New York insurance co. Is a crime that must be paid for.

You burnt all your bridges? Did you hear that Karl?

Wonderful! And how do you feel now?

Karl's drunk.

Pernod is a killer at this time of night.

You won't survive it either. It's irresistible. A free spirit.

Oh, yes! Pure alcohol.

And you... what are you doing in Paris?

Go and get dressed now, please.

Yes, Madame.

I've tried to avoid being asked that question.

Americans come here to fall in love...

to learn to appreciate good wine...

and then to write books about it.

I was born in Brooklyn...

but it feels more like the Himalayas or Easter Island.

I've got a lot to forget about.

Like a marriage, and all those years wasted at Western Union.

Here we go again! Same thing every night.

Western Union to me was like what...

like Siberia was to Dostoevsky, fucking Hell!

Fucking bliss, too.

I've been an undertaker, street sweeper...

a librarian...

traveling salesman, insurance agent...

and a ticket puncher at a museum!

I would have even been a pimp or a gigolo all to come to Paris to write!

Mankind's only hope lies in the basic goodness in all of us.

What?

- Speak English! - Am American...

I'm glad you're awake, sir. I've been waiting outside for more than an hour.

Shit! Outside where?

Behind the door.

There is somebody asleep in the other room.

Who are you?

Where did you spring up from?

Where's my Grandma?

Who?

Manouche.

I'm Colette.

Oh, good grief! Look...

wait outside a minute, okay?

- You did it? - Did what?

Why is everything in a mess?

We've got a visitor.

Let him in - It's a "her."

She's already sat down, taken off her bag...

and now her hat!

Where's my Grandma?

She's dead.

She sent me a postcard.

I must go to school, and she told me I could come here with her.

Have you ever been here before?

Answer me, have you been here before?

It's not true.

She's not dead.

Who is he?

He's a friend of your Grandmother's. He can explain everything to you.

I'll go make coffee.

God!

Joey?

He's in the kitchen making coffee.

This is a joke, isn't it?

Adrienne sent you.

Didn't she?

Are you my Grandmother's friend?

Yes he is, and he'll explain everything to you.

No coffee, no aspirin. Just milk.

Explain it to her! Is Manouche dead?

Yes, unfortunately she is.

You look just like her!

Are you the boss here now? Yes.

Is it you who will get everything?

Tell me, my dear, do you have any papers or...

a letter or some sort of identification?

Or you a Gemini? My Grandmother was a Gemini.

This is a day of surprises!

What are we going to do with this one?

Any suggestions?

Let's go back to my place. Think things over.

These are not for me, Karl!

They are peasant girls!

Hands of washing women!

Milkmaid's breasts!

Just look at this one!

Look at this ass... a cow!

Monsieur Regentag has the most refined taste.

Not at all!

But art...

is dead! That's the problem.

It's all a fake!

Art is just... an idolatry of falsity.

I like...

real things!

Give me something that is alive!

Something... Oriental, perhaps. Japanese.

Hokusai type?

I'd have to see it. You know me...

I could have something very much alive for you by tomorrow afternoon.

You mean you have nothing for me now?

An entire day with nothing?

Something in costume, perhaps?

Choose anything you fancy!

You do know how to put on a show!

Come down! Do, mademoiselle.

Don't be shy.

We have champagne!

This is Colette.

Colette!

Karl, you've never done better, Never!

You buy this photograph?

I'll pay anything you ask, but it has to be now!

She's only a child!

No, no movement!

Now, pose.

And now, the flowers.

"Doctor, doctor listen to me!"

"I'm 85 years old...

and I still want to chase the girls!"

"Congratulations," said the doctor. "You are a very lucky man!"

"What do you mean I'm lucky?"

"I run and I run...

but I can't remember why I'm running!"

That's an old one!

My Grandma used to tell it.

You are just so alike.

You surprised me...

with Regentag.

Why?

Next time, I will skinny dip in the canal.

- In public? - Sure.

With the boys.

It's always intimate.

So you would do it again?

Why not?

Who else do you know in Paris? Do you have another Grandma?

There is nobody.

Then you have to go back home.

You don't want to.

There is only cows and stables...

What about your parents? Stop torturing her, Joey.

We'll think about her parents later.

What do you mean?

You mustn't trust him. First of all, he's an American!

Really? From Hollywood?

Why Hollywood? It's where they make movies!

And secondly you mustn't trust him because he's a writer, a storyteller.

All he wants to do is to capture on paper anything that's alive.

Have you been to Hollywood?

Yes, I worked there.

What's all this about? Do you want to become an actress?

I want to be a ballerina.

My Grandma promised she would help me.

Why not!

Here we are three foreigners in Paris, let's make the most of it.

Adrienne! You know at the Melody!

She's the one with the wooden leg.

She performed for the Op�ra-comique for 10 years!

She knows everything about dancing!

New York is a wasteland of garbage!

It smells of liquor and piss!

Do not think about it! You are here now!

Look at her.

Look at her!

She has to be born and you have to be reborn,

You have to throw it all away! Start over again!

You don't want to be the Yank in Paris who feels and seeks truth, do you?

Breathe the air! That is the scent of sex.

The secret is to...

breathe it in.

Gulp it down like medicine!

A dead dog...

Don't you like fucking?

I said, don't you like fucking?

While I'm doing it, yeah. Afterward, it's just dead.

Death... is life.

We're here tonight because of a dead whore who left me a gift...

this little angel, no?

We got to find somewhere for her to sleep.

My hotel stinks.

You can both come and stay at my place.

We'll fit...

Warsaw,

New York...

and the best from deepest France.

She could have done worse.

Who?

The old dead whore.

Hello?

Odette.

What?

Gilberte...

What are you talking about?

Albertine. She's straight out of Proust.

- You think so? - Definitely.

Good news about tonight... old Regentag is back.

He's throwing a party at his place.

And we've been invited. All thanks to Colette.

You give your things to Gupta? Yeah.

He'll take care of everything.

The bed's uncomfortable, but it will have to do.

Go on, I'm busy!

You're the youngest colonel in the Army...

I loathe violence.

Good!

Did you bring the girl? Excellent, excellent indeed!

Have a drink. I'll get back to you later.

Are you American?

The very man I was looking for! I must talk to you...

Why? Have a good look around...

There is much material for a writer here!

Sorry, but I don't know how.

Analysts know everything.

You flatter me, my dear.

Are you afraid, Doctor?

Found anything interesting?

Who's the carrot-top at the fireplace? I've no idea.

I've not seen her on parade before.

I'll catch up with you later. Alright.

Toilet, monsieur?

Pardon?

Where are the holes?

Were you looking for me?

You weren't expecting such a question?

The truth is no.

Then you were looking for me?

We seem to be the only ones who want to get out of here.

You haven't been in Paris long, have you?

You'll have to get used to it or leave.

Are you a writer?

How did you guess?

Ink-stained thumb.

Come on, let's go now or we'll never get out!

The girls need a hand with the coats.

Quick!

Where have you been hiding? Here and there.

We have not been introduced.

- Joey... - You must be Joey!

- Yeah. - I'm joking.

Karl told me all about you. I'm Ania Regentag.

Darling, will you stay Afterward?

I don't know yet.

You're an American, aren't you? Yes.

Incredible! Ms. Zubalaski, you know her?

Only yesterday...

she told me that I would meet an American writer from New york.

I lived there once. I feel like a real New Yorker.

Although I was born in Poland, like Karl.

Here we are all a little m�lang�s of mixed origins.

Know it? Of course, "Stormy Weather."

I don't want to keep you from your friends. See you later.

Okay - I've got an idea.

How can I explain this to you...

New York, the people...

they are dead! You can see it in their eyes.

Maybe it's only fear.

No, they're zombies!

I read people's faces. I devour them.

The more I eat, the hungrier I get.

Do you understand?

Do you read people's faces?

Sometimes.

Don't look at me as though I'm some kind of walking book.

I'm not made of paper... at least not all of me.

For an American, you are really strange.

I bet you don't like Paris.

Nothing would make me leave. I'm in 7th heaven.

I wouldn't be so sure, you could be disappointed.

This is the stream of life, and I've come all the way from Hell to get here.

I don't even know your name.

Will you tell me?

If you like.

You caught on right away.

To what?

It must be written all over my face.

Me? No, I can't read.

Americans are stupid!

Want to help me?

Do you mind if I shower?

I sure won't regret it.

I hate Paris!

Not just Paris...

but all cities.

They are hell.

People get hard here...

indifferent...

deaf.

No natural odors, no real feelings.

It's different for you.

Paris!

You'll write a book about it.

Maybe a cookbook.

It could happen.

Nys... why Nys?

It's not my real name.

Nothing's real here.

Nys...

like the city.

A house in the country...

with stables, cows...

insects...

and animals!

That's what I'd like to be.

Do you understand?

Here everything is slow.

The Seine,

blood, sperm...

words.

It's hysterical.

I want to stop moving and watch.

I like things that flow.

Let me go now.

- Why? - Because you like Paris.

Because in an hour, you'll be making love with your black Remington.

It is black, isn't it? Yes, it's black.

And also because you already owe me 200 francs.

I was told there are fabulous things to be found...

if you looked in little girls' panties.

True.

Magnolias... holly...

Vials of perfume...

velvet buttons.

You don't really believe there's a hole there, do you?

My father taught me to love the country.

Not nature, but...

really the earth.

Clods of it.

Milk... teats...

He was a drunk, my mother too.

But you wouldn't believe how clean they were!

I felt I would never leave home.

They died together, the same day.

After that, I was up for grabs.

The worm eats the apple and all that remains is the worm.

See, you are a stupid American!

Carried away with words!

The core remains...

that's what you don't understand.

And nobody raped you?

Not even your grandfather? He never...

fondled your little ass when he was telling fairy tales?

This might interest you...

I saw my grandfather masturbate.

Lots of times.

Now, there's a good scene for you.

I won't write about it. I never write.

He would stand behind a hedge and...

He wanted me to see him.

I loved him even more for that.

Isn't that odd?

He never touched me.

There are no legal ways of loving someone.

You didn't sleep.

This is very important, Joey.

You're an American... Yes, I know.

And you have to learn about...

certain things.

Are you working?

Let me ask you this:

Have you ...ever...

slept with somebody who...

pissed in the bed and only eats candy,

ice cream and drinks milk?

No, that's a new one on me.

Joey, don't do it.

Don't do it.

She doesn't sleep here. She goes out.

Do you know that?

She'll put us both in jail.

She doesn't call her, "Grandmother."

Manouche is not her granny!

I smell a rat.

Ask her where she goes.

Ask her where she bloody well goes.

Where I come from there are no books.

Nobody reads there.

What about you?

I don't either.

Why should I?

If I stayed here, it would be different.

- You should be in school. - Why?

Stop that!

I'm going to the ladies' room.

She's going to be trouble! I know. Try telling that to Karl.

Does he sleep with her?

Don't know. He won't say.

Don't look at me. I'm not involved.

Sure, sure.

Corruption of a minor...

you won't know what hit you.

I know, but look at her! She's unbelievable.

Nothing bothers her, nothing surprises her.

The worst thing that could happen is that she could learn something from us.

Do you think it's worth it?

What should I do? Lock her up?

Just fuck her... if that's what you want.

But don't bring her here! It's too dangerous.

Do you really think she's Manouche's granddaughter?

She looks just like her. Look at her face.

She's her splitting image. Then what should I do?

I don't know.

Bring her back here... when she's grown up!

The shit has hit the fan now.

It was such a beautiful day! Yes, it was.

I'm afraid of thunder.

And you want to live in the country?

Yes, but I don't want to be cremated before my time!

Don't look at me.

I'm a mess. No, you're beautiful.

Who were you with when I called? It's no big thing.

Does it matter anyway? Tell me.

A bookworm.

The brain is the most grossly overestimated part of the anatomy.

Then have the guts to do without it.

Good time of the day to die, you know?

Nothing.

Neither day or night.

You don't like being happy.

I'm here to learn.

Well then...

no more guilt, no death...

no bullshit, no pain...

no thinking.

Come on, Joey. I'll put a know in your tie.

Not tonight, Miriam.

I know you're in there, Colette. Come on out.

Sorry to disappoint you, Joey.

No, I apologize. I thought...

I'm flattered.

Can you spare me 5 minutes, or must you run off to your little girl?

Are you speaking with Karl?

Of course, but that's not the point.

Come and see me tomorrow, alright?

Here we are.

At a dead-end.

You have a wonderful grasp of the obvious.

It's not just a question of muscle...

Look at my feet!

See!

You just haven't got it!

Jealous? What it!

You know, of Colette.

She's like an animal.

She only understands things that give her pleasure.

You fucked her.

Don't be ridiculous.

You're falling for the little creature.

- Send her home. - No.

It isn't so easy.

Dump her on the first train that comes along.

I think she's told us a pack of lies.

You're afraid she'll leave. She left 3 days ago.

If she's really Manouche's granddaughter,

she'll just have to set herself up.

You like here?

Why do you ask?

You should taste her yourself.

Typical... jealousy.

You find her and she's all yours.

That little bitch has got you hooked!

You live with wonderful people!

Nietzsche, Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman...

Strindberg, Dosto'ievski, Lawrence...

Joyce. I envy you, believe me.

A free spirit like you...

I could never be part of that world.

Someone said, one of your friends no doubt...

that to be genius, one has to be...

a dreamer.

At the moment...

this is too impossible for me.

Please, all I ask is for you to wait a bit.

It is not the right time.

People need to be reassured just now.

They want to be assumed, to take their minds off their problems.

The political situation is getting worse every day.

If things happen as I think they will...

You will write a magnificent book.

But I'm afraid, I won't be its publisher.

Sometimes, I ask myself...

why I always attract people whose brains are diseased.

You artists, psychopaths, madmen.

Jews.

You attract me, Joey.

My wife, too.

You don't need to explain... No, wait damn it!

There's something...

I have to propose to you.

- Take it! - Why?

Stop playing the Yankee Jew and sit down.

Ania, my wife...

was a friend of Proust, Apollinaire, Diaghilev.

She knew the Kaiser and Tolstoy.

You may have noticed that she knows how to tell a story.

But she doesn't know how to write.

She's too impatient, too nervous.

If she could write...

her book would be a bestseller.

I thought of you.

What do you say?

Listen...

this money is yours.

Even if you decide not to give Ania a hand.

If you do...

there will be more.

You won't regret it.

I'm sure.

We've seen so much horror, nothing can surprise us anymore.

We're getting prepared, that's all.

At the moment, literature is like a game.

A vain prayer. Like all Americans...

you're a 19th Century optimist.

People who dance on the edge of a volcano are bound to fall in.

I'll party when I want to! Go to hell just as you are!

You're just a little shit!

Alright, I'll take you back to your parents!

I'm going with her, understand?

I'm afraid of sleeping.

You seem relaxed.

Anything can seem like anything.

This is the hour of Scorpio, the month of the Jackal...

and the army of despair...

You are a boor, I wish I could leave.

Ask them for a lift.

Even in rejection, the old goat's full of spunk.

In my next reincarnation...

I'll be your age and I'll meet you in Clichy.

I'm a Capricorn. Time's on my side.

Times change.

It's all just a pretext so we will keep talking and you won't fuck with me.

The subject is closed, Joey!

How did you find me. By accident.

I'm not asking who he was.

Thanks.

May I go home now? I'll go with you.

I'd rather you didn't. Why not?

I'm sorry.

What's wrong?

I'm scared. They broke into my apartment. They kicked the door down.

Who did? - I don't know. It's not the first time.

Did you report it? I'm not going to the Police. No use.

I must go away somewhere. It's too dangerous here.

I don't understand.

Taxi!

"Tender and obscene, the wingspan of years..."

Youth laughs the laughter that ages with tears.

Obscene and merry, is the married life.

Karl wants a honeymoon at any cost.

But I'm not sure about Joey.

Joey can't live without that little girl. Karl's already bored with her.

Poor Joey!

You Joey and you Karl...

and you Colette, approach!

The witnesses too.

The ring.

You may now kiss each other.

We are just going to take some photographs for Proust's almanac.

We will start with Illie and then the cathedrals...

and Yvonne and Cabourg.

It's for his sake.

You might pay some attention! It's all agreed, isn't it?

No, Chaltres first or Cabourg?

You decide.

And how are you getting there?

By car.

Colette loves traveling by car. How do you know?

It's normal. At your age, one adores anything one hasn't tried before.

Thank God you were here.

It's all over now. I'll take you home.

Take me to your flat.

Best to avoid the well-known ones.

Can't we go somewhere else? I hate churches.

They are cathedrals, not churches.

Let's skip Chaltres and Amiens.

Proust liked those best.

We could do Rouen, Jumi�ges and St-Wandrille. Nobody ever goes there.

Go away!

You ruined it!

These aren't family snapshots.

The artist...

dead for centuries...

has left here this small stone figurine...

which dies every day...

lost amongst all the others.

But then one day came a man who didn't believe in death.

He defeated the void that stifles us and...

in those stones, he read all the laws of life.

You sleep well?

This place is full of birds!

I even saw a scorpion. Be careful.

Is Joey awake yet? I don't know.

I thought it was always supposed to rain in Normandy.

Hurry up, the day is ours!

What can be more wonderful than the married life?

Fantasy love is much more fun than real love.

Stop!

Elstir used to come here. Who's he?

The painter invented by Proust.

Don't kid yourself that this is a mere vacation.

Let's swim.

Gentlemen don't swim on their honeymoon.

Then I will alone!

What a strange creature.

Probably the best we could ever wish for.

You're gonna gobble up your half of the cake right now?

I'll grant you, she's yours by rights.

After all, you inherited her.

Do you think she loves me?

You should know. You tell me she's Manouche reborn.

Manouche ever fall in love?

Nothing worth knowing that can be understood through the mind.

Then let go! Let the old whore take you by the hands and I'll shut my eyes.

I don't think anybody will ever make her happy.

You are getting to be a boor.

Tell me honestly, Joey...

do you think I'll end up waking in the night, sobbing into the telephone?

What really matters is to live a lie like it was a fairy tale.

There's nothing I can do!

I was prepared to be faithful for the rest of my life, like pigeons!

Now it's like she's castrated me!

The country plays these tricks. It's too relaxing.

Besides, "beware the ups and downs into sensitive parts..."

always pitter pattering between sweet rosy lips and asses...

"budding like bubbles."

Damn stupid of me to leave Paris and come here. I hate the country!

What about your calendar thingy?

Enough is enough!

I've had it with this pseudo-intellectual bullshit!

It's so second-rate, so useless!

Pathetic!

We have water here, Yes, I know.

And more so because our wife denies us what we married her for.

So it's not a spiritual problem!

Is this one of those Swann things too?

What do you know about Swann?

You haven't stopped talking about him all morning.

Swann, Odette, Marcel, Chartes...

I'm hungry!

When we get to the fork in the river... I don't want to wait anymore!

You two tell me how much you love me, but you never do anything for me!

I'm going by myself!

We must keep to the river to get to Meseglise.

We must go there if we want to see the bell towers of Martinville.

You've got it all mixed up.

You can only see the belfry from outside Combray. Now, listen to me...

We must follow the river and keep the Guermantes behind us. Okay?

I want to go buy some madeleines. = Cut out the bullshit.

Do you know I've never had any?

Me neither. We'll give them to Colette.

What is it?

It's French.

Are you afraid? Will you do it?

Only if you ask me to.

Why should I?

At your age, it will make you free.

Freedom is a hard master.

If you're afraid, you are damned.

Look, I'm not afraid.

You got that idea from them?

You think they still make love?

That they are like you?

That they can't stop?

Then why do you refuse me?

Am I too old?

Really, I'm only 60 years older than you.

I get better from any 10th Avenue whore.

Your body's an empty shell.

For the first time in my life, I'm in love with something that makes me sick.

You should go to Berlin.

It's magic in certain places, in certain moments.

New ideas are born, and all because I went there.

It's not the same...

you've never written anything.

I was waiting for you, my dear.

I'm blocked.

As Flaubert said...

"I spend the morning putting in a comma...

and the afternoon, taking it out."

Anyway...

Politics!

Hitler, I...

Any news of Colette? Oh, please!

Don't mention her.

Joey is responsible for her running away.

He made her some "unnatural" proposition.

So she finally found out that you are both pigs!

Plenty good reason for sticking around!

You know...

the first thing you find out in this city...

is that if you want to go crazy...

you have to have a very stable mind.

I mean, if you want to be alone...

join the crowd!

In short, if it's peace...

and order that you're looking for...

you've got to tear the whole town apart.

It's just the opposite in New York!

It's amazing, isn't it?

Take Colette. She's just like that.

An infinite sphere with a circumference...

that is everywhere.

And a center that is nowhere.

Saint-Augustin!

That, my friends, is an easy street to quick agony.

For you, sex is synonymous with pain.

My dear Ania, they are Siamese twins.

Separating a sadist from a masochist is like...

separating a man who eats from one who digests.

Personal experience, that's what counts.

One by one.

And that takes you where?

Where?

I don't know.

Forward!

Nowhere.

If that's the itinerary, you are bound to meet somewhere.

Don't kid yourself.

It takes a great deal of work to get nowhere.

Me and Nys for example...

Thanks for the comparison!

What do you see, Ania? Honestly...

A handsome couple that I wouldn't mind training.

No, you see nothing.

Nada, zilch.

And that is why one must move ...forward.

The country certainly didn't do you any good.

Obviously.

The mosquitoes have sucked my brain dry.

You should try it, Madame Regentag.

Intellectually, it's devastating.

Ladies...

goodnight.

I don't think it would interest you very much.

No you are wrong, it does. Why?

Anything can be described. After all, that is the job of a writer.

That does not describe human misery!

Physical or moral, it is impossible.

Everything that we see around us is shit. Nothing but fucking shit.

To begin with, I think I should take a few notes.

Thank you.

Nectar of the gods.

Does your husband live here? No.

We are too much alike to live in the same house.

Really? Well, go on then...

let your hair down. I'll be kind of an explorer, okay?

Never mind that. I hate analysts.

I understand. Go on.

I was born in Odessa.

In Odessa?

When we had to leave, we had to pay the price.

Not just money I mean.

I'll tell you the whole story. It will be easier.

Please do.

Feel free.

It may seem absurd to you...

because there is nothing sexy about a revolution.

But they raped us.

Both of us.

On the train to Vienna.

That must be something one never forgets.

You should know that if you really want to understand Ernest.

People get used to humiliation.

Sometimes they even get addicted to it...

like drugs.

You see?

They are hooked.

Want some cocaine?

Thank you.

You must write about that.

Not just for me...

The real danger of violence is...

that it is contagious.

I only want to look back now.

What's with the future...

not of the past?

I want to be, like you said...

just nothing.

Ernest likes to watch.

I only want to relive the past.

I know it's ridiculous...

but that makes everything even more painful.

Laughing and crying...

It is the same thing.

Have you ever noticed?

Write it, Joey!

Write what you see!

It's real.

Goddamn real!

Are you afraid someone's going to jump you?

Why?

That's what you had in mind? Yeah.

Do you like Krauts?

I'm one too, a bit.

All the others ones have bells on.

I carry this because of bullshitters like you.

It's the truth.

Scout's honor.

You are Jewish.

Like him?

And him?

Baudelaire?

Sure.

- My poetry is better. - Really?

You write poetry?

These are real, pal!

Some people pay 1000 francs to see them.

Connoisseurs, not guys like you.

I don't want to go running after them. I'm hungry!

Do you have a bidet at your place?

Yes, but I don't have 1000 francs.

My treat... you get the poetry too.

Smoke?

Krauts, you don't drink.

You don't have 1000 franks...

so...

What are we doing here?

I've been offered 5000 francs just for a peek at it.

Men are idiots!

They don't know the difference between prose and poetry.

I'll let you touch it for free.

You're a real pig, aren't you? Come on, confess.

Nothing can shock little Edith.

I know the Yankees...

Joey the writer...

you like it real dirty.

I tell you what...

it's 200 francs.

100 for the poetry and 100 for sex, no more.

No less.

Yankee...

do not look back.

Do not see me. Do not look back.

If you do not see my wings, I'll suffer.

For I am...

the angel that comes to reap you. I am...

the Exterminating...

Angel.

I've had it!

What's this?

A gift.

My swan song.

And the cocks multiply.

It's 200 francs, but with Saint-Emilion'1929...

If you think it's alright...

And which poetry would you like?

Sit your ass down and make yourself comfortable.

Take off my shoes.

And my stockings.

Now Joey, tell me the truth. You're a Kraut, a Yank...

and a bit of a queen.

Not so fast, my friend!

I've got my own timing.

Here.

Want to see the Eighth Wonder of the World?

Don't play games with me, Kraut.

Where's my bag? Where did you put it?

Maybe you left it in the bathroom.

Beware...

I am the Exterminating...

Angel!

Where did you find her?

The Chamber of Horrors?

Stinks like a dead cat.

What do you want from me? She's fresher than Manouche.

While she's whispering sweet nothings about love and death...

she'll gobble up your family jewels.

Wait, let her have her timing.

Edith darling, where are you?

We are getting impatient.

Maybe she's dead. I did leave my razor on the sink.

Christ, this is a disaster!

There will be blood all over the walls.

Then, the police...

You and your crazy ideas! We'll have to break down the door!

Where's the music?

Here I am giving you art, poetry...

and what are you doing?

Getting your jollies behind the keyhole!

I've come to liberate you,

to free your soul.

Spread your legs wide.

Let yourself go into the...

liquid fluid. Into the seminal fluid...

200 francs first!

Cut out the money shit. You cut it out!

You had your fun, now I feel like banging someone! Bang, bang!

Stop her, Joey! She's crazy!

You and your stupid theories!

Get the gun!

She's out of her noodle.

She's off her rocker.

I told you not to rush her.

Just give her the 200 francs and tell her to get the fuck out of here!

Please tell my mother that I'll be home in a minute.

Please...

I beg your pardon, would you tie me?

I hope I haven't been unpleasant.

I'm sorry.

100 francs for the poetry. Thanks.

You are a true patron of the arts.

God will reward you.

Americans.

She had beautiful eyes.

Poets don't have eyes.

They don't have anything.

That's 100 francs down the drain.

You're sounding like an old housewife.

Actually I didn't give a damn about that mess.

I'm like Manouche. When the party's over...

blackout.

Then it starts all over again.

Another hard-on...

and then another.

That's life.

If I ever lose my memory. I'll never forget my first dose of the clap.

Proust had his Madeleine, and I have mine.

You never really fuck until you get fucked.

That frigid bitch, Colette...

will do that little job nicely.

You've seen her?

Just whistle.

She's floating around here somewhere.

I can hear her wings flapping.

Why are they still here?

It would be better to sell them, no?

So you are writing. Were you working?

Yes, to focus my mind I bathe in ink.

Do you have something hot to drink? Milk or some tea?

Yes, of course.

We're here! Karl's house!

I say, I say.

Miracles do happen.

My little butterflies!

Look around; Enjoy yourselves!

Joey, the truth!

Is she still the same Colette?

There you are. He wanted to become an artist,

but refused to make the necessary sacrifices.

How charming!

You make me sick. Colette's back...

and we're host to a cultural mission from the land of the rising sun.

And all you can do is prance about with hot milk.

It's for her. You mean to celebrate with milk?

Should we leave? Don't be ridiculous.

Wait...

Mitsuko and Mitsuko!

They are both called Mitsuko!

Let's go upstairs! It's far more comfortable.

Get rid of them, will you? They are stone-drunk.

Wait, my dear Joey...

The moment of truth has come!

Choose.

Never saw that in the old neighborhood. Be a good boy and take them away.

Oh no, shame on you!

Looking a gift horse in the mouth!

And in touchy moments...

the talented novelist...

could only write about the fear of sex & death with typical Yankee narcissism.

Go upstairs. I'll join you in a minute.

My little butterfly! Did you hear that?

He's going to join us later!

I've always admired Hokusai.

He's a master Japanese artist. I have some of his reproductions up here!

How does it work?

Push that one.

Aren't you glad?

Of what?

That I've come back.

You were waiting for me, weren't you?

How long have you been waiting for me?

Tell me.

Tell me how much you want me.

Tell me, pig.

I don't love you.

I don't love you.

I'll never love you.

You know, just to be with you in Paris, I could do a lot of crazy things.

Like what?

Like riding in a carriage on the Bois de Boulogne.

I think you're afraid of getting old.

My Grandma used to say, "You never get old enough."

Well, I'm doing my damnedest.

You're a little drunk.

- Give me a kiss. - Alright.

Colette, what I really feel like doing now is making love.

- What do you say? - Right now?

The truth is you don't really love me.

One ticket! One ticket!

See, I already knew that back in Brooklyn.

There's nothing worse than America. That's where the whole mess begins.

Hitler won't make things any better!

Yes, but at least you see he's spewing pus!

Pessimistic bastard! Come on, look around.

What do you see? Zombies.

Do you think that if you shot yourself anybody would give a shit?

No. They'd just say, "One less Jew."

The whole thing's got to go to hell before it can get any better.

Stop blabbing, Joey!

Listen to the news!

Mesdames, Messieurs, we have something to celebrate.

I am leaving Paris.

Oh God, I can't stand this. I'm leaving.

Sit down, asshole.

These are my friends.

It's awful, but I'll never see them again. At least, not here.

To the victor go the spoils! Good show, Gustav!

Joey, isn't it wonderful! I can't believe it.

We'll have to go and visit you.

Right! I presume you're moving to the country?

Yes, to Rouen.

We're in dairy products. You know, cheese.

Cheese!

Fantastic!

It's so close...

You are all invited to come, all of Nys' friends.

I really must go now. See you soon. Please, excuse me.

Well, you took that news rather well.

Once in a while, one should try not to be selfish.

And forget about one's self.

Let's drink to forget!

How surprising!

I haven't chosen a man. I've chosen freedom.

To die and be reborn as a phoenix, that's the life!

For Christ's sake, let's dance.

Any more of these two, and I'll puke.

What are you doing here?

I wait.

I watch.

And then I get what I want.

You don't have to pretend with me.

You don't feel like it, right?

- What's wrong? - Nothing.

I get the message. What message?

It's not the moment. You're too far away.

No, first tell me what's wrong.

I'm not going to feel guilty because I'm not the erotic maniac...

that you've grown accustomed to.

I could fall in love with you, but it wouldn't work.

Why not?

You do not need me.

And what do I need?

That little girl, Colette. Isn't that her name?

What does she have to do with it? She's gone anyway.

Disappeared, vanished.

15 is too young. Men always find a way to have their...

Save the bullshit for Gustav, huh?

What did you expect? I'm just saying what I think.

If you don't like it, fuck off.

You in the country, I can't picture it.

She's really got you, that little bitch.

Oh, I like poking my nose in the garden of Eden.

No, she's more like a...

detour on the road to Hell.

God, it's him!

Christ, he can't want everything for free.

What's wrong with you, you stupid turd?

Take her away now, it's your last chance!

There used to be a river here.

When it rained, everything bloomed.

The water lilies would bloom.

You're not even listening to me.

You're trying to dry me up from lack of affection.

And it works.

Even the desert goes to dust if nobody comes to look at it.

There they are.

In Paris...

the C�zanne and Monet, incredible.

Blue waterlilies.

Ah, you've never been to Paris.

If you had, you couldn't help falling in love with me.

I rattle on and on like Buddha.

The truth is I'm just an old jerk who fell in love too late.

Oh, Crime and Punishment.

What do you want, Joey?

A fatal dose of the clap.

Is that how you'd like to go?

Yeah.

Before I pull the plug...

I'd like to stop off in Clichy.

Just for a moment.

And here in this fantastic shitty city...

he was in the right place at the right time.

Let's go to Wang Wu's and have crabs with...

A couple of old queens?

Psychopaths, asexuals, homosexuals...

it's a very sensitive and elegant lot, you know.

I've got one right there.

Proust wasn't exactly the marrying kind, was he?

No, but always ready to score at the train station at Bois de Boulogne.

It would give me great pleasure to offer you a glass of champagne or...

or beer, Pr� Catelan.

Semen and sulfur on all you fuckers!

Did you know that your ass, it's superb!

Who's that? - The Mormon monk who dips his dick in ink like you.

You go, I can't.

Work.

Karl!

Jolly Alfred, whatever!

When you're done being an asshole...

Joey, it's Colette's parents!

Yes, Colette often spoke about you both.

Henri Ducarouge.

Excuse me, but...

you are?

Joey.

This is an embarrassing obligation.

Is this where our little girl has lived? Let me do the talking!

I don't quite know what to make of this.

But given that I am related...

I am legally responsible.

It is my duty to notify the police.

Let's get the whole story. Quite right, my dear.

We found Colette at her grandmother's by accident. - That's what happened!

Oh, my God! We have no family in Paris.

When Colette ran away, our first priority was...

And then there's the watch.

The watch? A gold chronometer.

It was a gift from her Grandma.

Then Manouche.. Please! Not in front of the child!

First, give the watch back!

Colette, are you sure?

Where did you leave it? I never saw it!

You don't want me to go to the police.

No, give us time to find it. Colette, try to remember.

Oh, you know Marcel Proust.

Yes, I'm writing an essay on him. That's why I'm in Paris, to do research.

Are you a writer?

Of course he is. You have only to look at him.

Didn't she tell you that we are from Illiers?

My office is just opposite Proust's old family house.

No! She never told us that!

We can tell you a million stories. Really?

Americans are interested in Marcel Proust? - Yes!

Everyone!

Did you take this picture? Oh, yes!

This is my profession. This is a sort of...

Proustian temple.

At the moment, I'm finishing an album.

- An album? - An almanac.

Deluxe, very expensive.

We would be delighted to send you a copy.

Absolutely! Complementary.

There it is!

I knew it would be found.

Gentlemen, please...

We owe you both an apology!

Obviously, an affinity with Proust...

can only inspire feelings of the highest spiritual purity!

With one or two exceptions.

What do you mean by that?

Nothing except I do believe that there are rumors that his private life was...

a bit, ah, risqu�.

Not another word.

It's unworthy of you... a writer...

to listen to such slander.

Proust so adored his mother...

that it was to her he dedicated...

the greatest masterpiece of modern literature.

I couldn't agree more.

And if you would allow me to say that there is something about you...

that is positively Proustian.

Really?

You know...

everybody says that!

So off we go to Illiers! And we will show you the Jasmine hedges and Vivonne.

Nothing has changed since Proust's time. And the water lilies!

And we can also tell you things about him that are just incredible!

One day Marcel came home soaking wet from the rain...

Come along, dear! You can tell that story when they come to Illiers.

Absolutely!

Off they go!

Did you see her tits?

When we go to Illiers, we won't go right away, but when we do...

you have the daughter and I'll take the mother.

Just think, we'll be relatives! I can hardly wait.

You'll see Colette again.

Christ, I need a drink! Right, let's celebrate!

Please, not here. It's too lugubrious. Okay, anywhere you like!

Come on, let's get out of here!

Let's go down here.

I want to check out the Melody.

Poor Melody.

Let's get out of here.

Wait a minute. Maybe somebody's upstairs.

No, they're out working the streets already.

Yankee!

Breathe in the sweet smell of Old Europe!

Oh Christ, it's you!

You scared me to death!

What are you doing here?

The bastards burnt down the club.

I know, I was there. Where's Karl?

Out swimming in the shit.

And missing the best part.

Can you stay?

- You have to ask? - Fuck them!

We have our own fireworks!

We can stay here forever.

What do you say?

Why not?

What do you want to do now?

You old sex-pot.

And suck up the last drop.