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Vacation's a luxury.

We don't all get one.

Sure we do!

Since 1936, everybody gets one.

The struggle goes on.

Still, we need to recharge.

- Who wants another? Fill me up.

Here's to Cyril's vacation!

His life's a fricking vacation! He works for the SNCF.

Ay! Here we go again!

-Some Never Cease Fun. That's Cyril!

Keep them coming!

He's such a loafer,

he thinks vacation is remote working.

And 6 months of sick leave!

To Cyril's vacation!

- To happiness! Cyril!

Cyril!

Shit, Louna, hon.

Louna, hon?

Louna, hon?

What is it?

Could you help me? I can't do this alone.

Uh, my sciatica...

Ask Lucas.

Where is he?

He's around somewhere.

Thanks a lot!

Hit the road before traffic gets hairy.

I haven't gone on vacation in 3 years, so you know,

even if traffic's bad, I'll get off on it.

Did you tell her where you're going?

Nope.

FORCED VACATION

I'll settle this right away.

Yes, Mrs. Lambert, I'm at a travel agent's.

Payment's being refused for a measly plane ticket.

Yes, in business, not in the baggage hold or in cattle class.

Please!

What overdraft?

Inflation, Mrs. Lambert!

A waterfront villa costs 5,000 euros a week.

On vacation? It's a working business trip.

I'm helping a young author finish next fall's bestseller.

Have you heard of Dolly Di?

Yet she's very famous.

She's a TicTacker, influencer and Facebooker.

With over 2 million followers.

Two millions of followers.

Can you imagine?

Yes, we've been struggling for some weeks.

Some months, if you like.

Okay, a few years. Let's not play on words.

You must understand that Dolly Di will trigger a tsunami of sales.

Stratospheric. Get your floaties out.

Get your floaties out!

300 euros a week? What do expect me to do with that?

I can't hook Dolly with a pauper's pittance!

Hello?

Hello, luvies. I hope you're well.

Soon, live from the ocean,

my publisher and mentor, the great Raphaël Dolmaire

for two insane weeks of writing.

My new life as a writer!

Lotsa luv, besties. Catch ya on the beach?

There you are!

How are you?

Fine. But I'm confused. Didn't we say early afternoon?

Yes, but I was impatient and famished. Lunch at the Deux Magots?

Why not the Flore, while you're at it? Utterly has-been.

Okay, never mind. I'll graze on the plane.

Be right back.

Very good. Don't move...

Mrs. Berger!

What are you doing here? I'm operating.

We were leaving at 9 a.m.

You pushed back to 11, it's past 1

and you're still drilling away?

Stop it. Know who that is?

I don't care!

Bom dia, Mrs. Berger.

Hello.

Come see.

Ah!

See the abscess under the crown behind the premolar?

- Yes. - He's playing tonight.

This is the call of duty.

Your duty is honoring your promises.

Two weeks of total availability for Alex and me.

I'm waiting in the car.

- Goodbye. - Goodbye.

Ah...

This vacation'll be sheer torture.

You have kids, Brinca?

Oh.

Four. With three different moms.

How do your vacations go?

- I go to Dubai with my mates. It's chill. - Ah.

And the moms take it?

Sure, it's tudo bem. I write them poems.

Ah.

In the divine boldness of my youth,

in this pagan ecstasy that subdues fortune...

No room for anything else.

That's okay. My friends are waiting for me in Perpignan.

Get in. Hurry up.

Not a peep outta you. Hurry up.

I'm going.

Go, go, go!

There. You're in!

I think he heard you.

Cyril!

Whoa! Easy, Louna, hon. We're on vacation.

Where were you? Jeez!

You're gorgeous when angry.

Might I remind everyone that we're spending this vacation

crammed together.

Let's not start arguing.

Crammed's the word. Six of us in a mobile home.

What's the difference? We're crammed all year.

Our apartment's smaller.

Ah, not happy to cram in with Dad?

Mm...

Is that your business?

We need fill the tank before taking off.

Wanna hold up a station?

Very funny.

Come on now.

Easy, hot potato. Now, let's relax with a bit of music.

Okay, but not Gérard Lordnorman.

And why not Gérard Lenorman?

It's wack!

It's w... Nonsense.

Hey, I can play Springsteen.

Uh, no, Dédé. We're listening to Lenorman.

Hm.

♪ All the world Is full of love and sunshine ♪

♪ And the skies like you are fair ♪

♪ I'll sing the song for happy people ♪

♪ Happy people from everywhere ♪

♪ I'll sing the song for happy people ♪

♪ Happy people from everywhere ♪

Rafale, boy, good dog.

- What's his name? - Rafale.

Rafale, go over there.

Didn't see you as the BlaBlaCar type.

Insane.

You kidding?

I've been carsharing for 30 years.

Impossible.

The app was created in 2006.

I simply mean I was a trailblazer in climate urgency.

Wouldn't be caught dead on a plane.

Carbon footprint?

The price.

Of course.

At my age, I should be more in tune to nature.

Ecology is the prerogative of younger generations.

It's time to jump on the bandwagon.

No, I'm good. I'd rather stay in the car.

Hello, luvies!

This summer, to combat greenhouse gases,

no airplanes for your Dolly.

The smallest action counts.

Kisses, besties. Luv ya!

I knew we had to leave earlier.

It's because you worked later.

Yes. And I worked later to pay for this vacation,

the apartment, Alexandre's school.

So, yes, I work so we can have a decent lifestyle.

Eric, I could go to a public school.

Shit, not in the car.

A public school. Of course.

Take the subway, why don't you?

I'll be glad to reach the villa and get away from these...

Look at them.

- Frankly, at the club... - We see each other at mealtimes.

Because we all have our activities.

- Alex has a fun kids' club. - We're not going for fun.

We're going to reconnect, all three of us.

Some vacation!

We're on Beach Drive, so that's good.

Number 2. It's here!

"Summer Dream." Stop. Pull over.

Okay.

Looks like California.

- Honey! - It's amazing!

Great prank...

but I'm tired. Where's the campsite?

It's right behind this!

This house is insane.

Honey, stop it. Please. I'm tired!

Take us to the mobile home. Please.

Louna, hon, my love, a guy's coming at 6 with the keys.

The mobile home is in there waiting for us!

Stop it! We can't afford a place like this.

Excuse me. We can't afford it?

Can't afford it?

Dad?

Ah!

What the...

Breaking and entry now?

Keys were in the mailbox.

Good job!

Eh...

Handy having a gangsta for a son.

Good going!

Come on, rugrats! Hurry up.

- Come on, Dédé! - Coming.

- Wait till you see. - It's fantastic.

Wait till you see.

That's my boy.

Go on in, Louna, hon.

It's all yours.

SUMMER DREAM

So cool!

- There's a pool! - Awesome!

You gutted your savings account? Why'd you do that?

For this! Look at it!

You know what that money's for?

No.

For a new car, the kids' college.

Dad!

There are tons of bedrooms. It's awesome!

Awesome! Choose your own rooms.

Cyril! There's a kitchen by the pool with a fridge bursting with booze.

Can we?

You bet, buddy! Help yourself.

This place is unreal.

With a path straight to the beach.

Can you grab the kids and take them, son?

You got it.

Thanks.

Louna, hon,

we've had such a shit year.

You worked like a dog. My back's shot.

My mom passed away.

Lucas almost landed in jail.

When was our last vacation?

Three years ago.

Three years.

I wanted you to have the most beautiful summer of our lives.

Don't we deserve it?

You're nuts.

Yeah, I'm a nutcase.

I go nuts over my wife.

I love you.

Ah, must be the guy with the keys.

This will be my Magnum summer.

Thomas Magnum.

The caretaker and cleaner are still busy.

Here he comes.

Hey there.

Sir. We have a 6:30 p.m. appointment.

The paper I have said 6 p.m. That's okay.

So my son... Anyway, we came in.

We'll let you finish.

Can we deal with the bags?

We're good. All done.

We did it ourselves, so no worries.

Uh, thank you very much.

Sure it's the right house?

Of course.

Hold on.

- A little mistake. - A big one!

Yes, 20's a lot.

We did all the work. Five is plenty. Evening.

There's a misunderstanding.

I rented this house.

Honey, what's going on?

Nothing. Just a guy who thinks he rented the house.

I don't think so, I know so.

- Where's your contract? - Right.

What contract?

- The rental contract for the house. - Yeah.

Why, it's...

- Louna, hon! - "Louna, hon."

- What? - Nothing.

Good.

- Yes? - Look in the blue suitcase.

Should be a contract.

A piece of paper. The contract.

We don't have a blue suitcase.

No suitcase, no contract.

Maybe it's not blue, but look for a piece of paper.

It says the place is ours.

Excuse me. Uh, is this the "Summer Dream" villa?

Maybe. Why?

It's our rental.

I can't find the fucking contract!

- Hello. - Hello.

Could you not swear? We're with a child.

- What's the German want, for chrissake? - What's the German want, for chrissake?

I don't mind swearing.

But I hate hypocrisy, Eric.

Alexandre, this is no time for conflict.

Your timing is creating it.

Yes, but if you...

Shut the hell up.

He doesn't mind swearing.

Reconnection!

Torture.

Here.

"Summer Dream, 2 Beach Dr."

Here. Our reservation, the contract, the owner's photo.

I'm the official renter. So, ladies and gents, see you!

Look. So...

"Summer Dream, 2 Beach Dr."

Huh? And the owner's pic. So sorry, I'm the official renter

- of this house. - Blah, blah. blah.

- Found it! Here. - Ah!

This should clear things up.

Eh, your contract's illegible. What's there to read?

It's a fake.

Excuse me?

The blondies are calling us fake?

- Excuse me? - Whoa. Easy! My wife's dirty blonde.

Now will you please get out of this villa?

We're not getting out 'cause of a printer problem.

Say, Mr. Six-Footer, you come alone?

If you're ousting me, I gotta see it.

That'll be a gas.

What is this?

Can't afford ink, but you rent a mansion?

Enough of this!

I lost my pants for Dolly Di's creative haven!

So I'm going in with Dolly!

Di!

It's Dolly Di!

It's Dolly Di! It's Dolly Di!

Yes, it's Dolly Di! Lucas, look.

Lay off. I'm listening to my tunes.

- Why're you here? - Hello.

Hi.

Come on, we'll show you the house.

You'll see, it's amazing.

Who's Dolly? What's that?

I don't know.

Look, uh, we're civilized people.

We'll call the agency.

The switchboard closes at 6.

We won't call the agency.

Not to interrupt your tedious quarrel,

but there happens to be a contact if needed.

I know because I read the contract. That's all.

What is that?

That is my son.

Three renters for 2 weeks. That's business savvy!

A cowardly shyster using a fisherman for cover.

Sailor'd better fix this or he's in for it.

♪ 'Tis the final conflict... ♪

Little guys always get the shaft.

To understand, you gotta be a leftist.

Whoa. Not for me.

Anyone here?

What do you want?

Uh, hello, sir. Actually...

- He has a problem. - You do the talking.

All right already!

I'm coming down.

I'm not an agency!

I just do some handiwork, the pool, the keys...

The keys?

Not much.

My balls were waiting.

Maybe they were waiting, but I was there at 6 on the dot.

Pétanque!

I see.

If you're unhappy, you're free to go.

A house like that, in August,

will be rented within the hour.

That's not the point. I'm staying.

We've been fleeced and we're to scamper like vagrants?

Sorry, but this is nonsense. Such methods are...

The methods are what?

Not nice.

Not nice?

Here's a proposal.

You share the house,

that way the rent will be divided in three.

Three times less, each of you. Not bad, eh?

Feel free to leave me a little something. It's customary.

- In your dreams. - It's customary!

Hm.

I'll let you think it over.

Don't take hours!

I'm not on vacation.

I worked my whole life to pay for this.

- I can hear you. - No problem.

I'm not on vacation either.

So...

Honestly, if Dolly Di

can work in peace to turn out her--

Her book, fine with me.

That way you can buy a new printer.

I don't give a shit about the dough.

I'm not against the idea of community, helping out.

And...

The kids are happy. They saw Lady Di.

- Dolly Di. - Same difference. Don't play on words.

What about you?

No, sorry. I'm not sharing.

- What does that mean? - It's obvious. He's a...

Cut the crap with that.

You sign the social compact?

I signed a pact with my wife and son, so...

Well...

Your son seems to get along with my kids. He might have fun.

So it'll be... like the club.

- The club? - He won't be a burden.

I mean, he can find some freedom.

- Find some freedom... - Uh, hello?

- Made up your minds? - Almost, almost, almost.

Sure, seen like that, it could be a solution.

Now you have to convince your wife.

Don't worry, I will.

Can't stand your ground. Dentist of the year!

It's okay, I'll find another house. No big deal.

The big deal is vacationing alone with your wife and son.

You want to be alone? We'll sleep on the beach.

- Under the stars? - We're camping now?

That could be fun.

Daphné...

When faced with such crowding or, let's say, communal sharing,

one must anticipate people's differences.

Cut the bullshit.

We left you the two best rooms.

They're not pads. An office, he said.

Get this. We're not on vacation.

You already said so. We all know by now.

You're lucky we're splitting everything.

She's right.

'Cause if we prorated it, there are six of us, two of you...

- The cupboards... - The fridge.

Regarding the noise, given that we'll be rising early...

We are?

Writing, dear Dolly, is toilsome.

- You understand? - No.

Literature's tough, man.

Well, if you wanna toy some, the kids'll be happy.

In short, avoid frolicking in the pool

before early afternoon.

What'll you do for your morning dip?

You're right, I love a morning dip.

Cannonballs put him in a good mood.

Yeah, I do several of them, yelling,

"Long live the proletariat!"

Relax. We'll go to the beach.

Mm. You're so sweet.

Thank you, Mrs. Toussaint.

Now, could you put your knickknacks down in the captain's room?

It's a furnace! The AC is broken.

Even a gecko wouldn't survive.

A what?

A gecko.

It's a little lizard.

A lizard that craves sunshine,

and endemic to...

High season, everything's full.

Even the mobile homes.

Then we'll split three ways.

We'll drive back tomorrow. One night and we're gone.

We'll do pro rata basis.

What a cheapskate.

I'm staying. You can leave.

Okay.

I'm joking, of course.

Alex, why'd you say that?

It's called "Summer Dream."

Don't make it a nightmare.

You can sleep in the kids' room.

- All right then. - Uh...

Alex!

So, what do we do? Recline the car seats and sleep there?

We'd saved the best room for you. The captain's.

- In the basement. - It's cool. Put the AC on high.

The captain's room for proles wouldn't do.

Our fate is to swab the decks.

Of course.

Great. Thank you.

The captain's room? More like a ship's hold.

At least we have a mattress.

Better than your car.

Smoking in here, really?

So yes.

My last little pleasure.

And it'll cover the musty smell.

Hear that?

What's that squealing?

Search your memories.

Goddam fan!

We don't all have handy husbands!

Hey! Oh!

Are you done with that racket?

Show off!

Ooh! Mmm!

Vacationing with all these strangers is weird.

Yeah?

I find it interesting. It's nice.

Interesting?

I noticed.

Think I didn't see you ogle that snoot?

Dolly Di? She's Lucas' age!

No, not Dolly Di.

Not Dolly Di?

No!

Dorothée?

Daphné.

Oh, ah, just a few letters' difference.

No way.

Wanna know something?

What I like are

brunettes

who are a little spicy.

That's what I like.

What are you up to?

- What are you doing? - Mmm.

What am I up to?

Hm?

It's summertime.

You're famous.

Why vacation with an old man?

I'm not on vacation. And you're with your old man too.

Mm.

'Cause I'm grounded.

I almost went to jail.

Oh, yeah, gangsta?

You'd never guess, but Delmaire is super famous.

His interest surprised me.

You serious?

Yeah.

The planet takes interest in Dolly Di!

Dolly?

The dark of night may be conducive to mad inspiration,

or aspiration, huh?

I suggest you don't go to bed too late.

Get to bed, Dolly.

Immediately, Dolly.

What's up with him?

I doubt Pablo Escobar is the proper muse for your book.

Don't push it. Have you ever smoked a joint?

Yes, once.

Twenty years ago, a defender of the Nouveau Roman took me to Le Baron.

The ultimate night scene, then.

And?

I have no recollection of the place, except they won't let me in now.

I'd be curious to know what offense our marijuana smoker committed.

Don't tell me they're...

Peculiar music for communal living.

Good night, Dolly.

Good night.

Just you wait! Wait till I catch you!

Cut it out!

Cut it out!

Anybody in there?

André, your drops!

Naïa, don't slurp. You're disturbing Mrs. Berger.

It's okay. I'm leaving after breakfast anyway.

Melvil! Breakfast!

This villa really is a dream!

I mean metaphorically. I'm not...

Anyway. See ya!

Cyril, look out! I'll push you in.

That's one happy kid.

Looks like it.

André!

- Is it busy? - Yes.

How's the room?

- Cramped. - Ah.

And yours?

Yeah, it's not...

They look big, but they're not that big.

Right.

Ah!

Finally. Feeling better? I almost called the SWAT team.

Hope he didn't chip the bowl.

Honey? Can I talk to you?

Uh, I was just going to...

I'm under the impression that for everyone's benefit,

we should stay.

Huh?

Alex seems to be blossoming

with the other children, despite their differences.

Blossoming, I don't know.

But 10 minutes ago he was chasing the Yellow Vest around the pool.

You see?

If you agree on politics, it's a good start.

Shall I unpack?

Well...

Yes.

Okay.

A rough idea how long...

It's busy.

So you're staying?

Yeah, if that suits you.

Of course it does.

Cool.

I got some Kobe beef. Best meat in the world.

I got five pounds, so we can gorge ourselves.

Kobe? What's that?

- Beef from Kobe. - Eh?

It's Japanese aged beef.

Voilà. 417 euros, please.

Holy cow!

That's a third of minimum wage.

Yeah, but...

You can buy a herd for that money.

But it's very tasty. You'll see.

And for you, sir?

Uh, I'll have some Tunisian merguez sausages.

Nice and spicy. Yeah, great.

More... Yeah. Op! Op! Op!

Keep it under 400, but go ahead.

Great. We can each nibble what we want.

Exactly.

Buy scented candles. The proles are going for merguez.

Ah! Gingerbread.

And gluten free. Alex, want a piece?

- No. - No?

Oh. Have a piece of fruit, then.

May I?

Want a churro instead of your apple?

It's a nashi.

A na...?

Nashi.

- Nashi. - Nashi.

What's that?

A little Japanese pear with lots of fiber.

Looks like an apple.

- But it's not. - It's a nashi.

That looks like an apple.

Here.

No!

Sorry. Nutella is off-limits in our house.

My wife avoids anything that contains palm oil.

Not just for us. It destroys the orangutans' habitat,

and it's important to be eco-conscious.

Look at this organic spread,

no additives or palm oil.

May I?

Yes.

Eight euros! Eco-consciousness is for the rich then, Mrs. Berger.

Well, all I know is

that Nutella's a treat, and we're on vacation.

- Mmm! - Can I have a taste?

- Alex! - Alex!

A slice of gluten-free gingerbread.

They look super alive.

Because they are, Dolly dear.

- No way? - Of course.

Seriously?

Can we get them?

Crazy encounter at the market with Raphy!

A pair of lobsters as big as my Air Jordans.

LOL!

And can you believe they're alive?

- Alive. - I'll take both.

Welcome gift.

If it can help local fishermen.

- Drat! - What?

A school friend. Well, friend...

His father had the fish shop opposite our offices.

He's a dumbbell.

I spent my youth taunting him at recess.

Well, he's all grown up.

That's the problem. Hide me.

The other way!

Thank you, ma'am.

Dolly, come.

Thank you.

Mmm.

Bon appétit.

Oh, wow. This fridge is maxed out.

Full-on annexation.

It's the Anschluss!

Hello, Daph!

Hi.

"Hello, Daph."

What? Magnum would've said that.

Thomas Magnum would've said it like that.

Speaking of which.

Rugrats,

want an ice cream?

Dad, we just started our sand castle. We'll go later.

Okay!

We have time. We're on vacation.

Listen to you two!

Louna, hon, you want anything?

Mineral water? Coffee?

A seaweed cocktail?

A chocolate almond Magnum.

No?

Weren't you afraid of wearing your new bikini?

The bikini's afraid, not me.

Oh, yeah!

It's packed, isn't it?

Yeah, it's summer.

Strasbourg has fewer people on the beach, and fewer beaches.

- Glad you got your sense of humor back. - Hm.

The phone, however...

It's like your drill, not on vacation.

It's Brinca. He scored again.

He's thanking me with a poem.

But this stupid site doesn't translate into Portuguese.

"Muchas gracias" will do it.

Alex?

- What are you doing? - Fishing for crab.

You don't know where they're from!

From the ocean by all accounts.

Alex! Alex!

Your bucket hat.

Put it on! The sun's strong. Alex!

A mother's anxieties are like the phone. Not on vacation.

- The shrink said... - To be present.

Not invasive.

You know, sweetie. I mean Dolly.

No, I'm okay with that.

I couldn't let pass a heroine whose name is Dolly.

Dolly is short for Dolores.

Lolita,

by Nabokov.

Okay.

It's after Dolly Castro,

a Latina YouTube pioneer with, like, six million followers.

I'm actually catching up. I'm at two.

Imagine if each follower buys my book.

Unreal!

One out of three would be wonderful.

I'm getting a coke.

Anyone want one?

Yeah. Totally.

That boy has something in mind,

and I think it's improper.

Come on. Didn't you at his age?

Not at all. At his age, I was passionate about literature.

And that flame burns on.

I did some investigating. He stole a moped.

He stole a moped?

It's not like he's Scarface!

It is. He's a mobster.

I know one when I see one!

Who wants to make a necklace?

Me!

Me too.

- And me too! - No, not you.

Yes, I wanna do everything like my son, like my daughter.

They're 20. What could happen, except jumping each other's bones?

I'm just protecting your kid.

What about my son?

Dolly Di isn't some chick you flirt with and forget.

She's a businesswoman.

Ah.

- I see. - That's right.

So proles can't get it on with the bosses?

Nothing's changed?

Spare me your class struggle.

At his age, I was an anarcho-unionist.

I marched through Paris chanting Léo Ferré.

That's right!

The summer of '95, I almost took my moped

to Bulgaria and the Communist International.

That's it!

Guys like you "almost." "I almost"...

You almost. You said it yourself.

- You're an almoster. - That's the problem.

Practice never matches theory.

Powerful. That's correct.

- Daddy, look at our shell necklaces. - Wow!

A Hawaiian necklace for Thomas Magnum.

Oh! Thank you.

Did you see I was with Higgins?

- I'm Robin Masters. - Alex?

How about we go eat oysters with Mom tonight?

Or we could play some soccer in the yard?

Could be fun, facing the ocean.

- Five penalties each. - I'm playing Chinese checkers.

Do I really have to yield

to your omnipotent adult schedule?

What a vocabulary.

I always feel like I'm in the way.

Like my timing is bad.

With you.

- With Alex. - Alex will grow out of it.

He doesn't call me Dad anymore. He calls me Eric.

What's your name? Eric.

And what's your name? Daphné.

But he calls you Mom.

Yeah.

I don't get it.

We've raised him together, haven't we?

A serious conversation is impossible in this house.

Seeing how they pig out, they need to burn it off.

CLICK YOUR LIFE! THE END

I have sand everywhere!

I have sand everywhere!

Go in, damn it!

I'm not very manual either.

I don't know...

My son asked me to build a hut with wood drifts.

- With "driftwood." - With driftwood.

Not the same. I'll help you.

So how's the book with Dolly coming along?

If only it were a book.

You weren't expecting the Pulitzer.

No, that's not driftwood.

There's a eucalyptus flower. Good for koalas.

Hand me a more substantial piece of wood.

Consolidating the roof is essential.

Look. Once the roof is consolidated, it's a cinch.

All by yourself?

I asked Dad to build me a driftwood hut.

It was in jest, of course. Poor guy took me literally.

I'm a little ashamed.

I don't quite get the problem, but wanna go for a walk?

You've got a lifetime to be serious!

Enjoy yourself.

You have no responsibilities. Relax.

- You can be facetious and mature. - Of course.

See, I've been with someone for almost six months.

And it's serious.

That's beautiful. It's lovely.

My mother rolled her eyes when I told her.

As if a teen's heart couldn't pound wildly.

I'll tell you something.

When I met Louna,

I was all of 17.

We never separated.

And you know what?

No.

I want it to go on forever.

Alex and Cyril seem to really connect.

He's always been popular with kids.

Ours and other people's.

Makes sense. He's still a kid.

- Wanna sit down? - Sure.

In comparison,

Eric has lost his inner child.

Really? Yet he's still super young.

Yes, but when we met, I was pregnant with Alex.

The biological father

had split.

Eric appeared like a miracle.

When I said I was carrying a child, he told me he'd carry it with me.

Wow.

Guys like that are scarce. He's great.

Yes.

Yes, he's great.

It's just that...

Sudden fatherhood put huge pressure on him.

He started working like mad so we'd have everything.

His little dental office became this big white clinic in Neuilly.

And after, he became distant.

Alex is making him pay dearly for it.

- Where does she live? - Denmark.

She vacations on the Atlantic coast.

Her name's Else.

Don't you wanna see her?

Sure I do.

I'll tell you something.

People say, "Yeah, later." But no.

Later is often too late. Don't mess with love.

Go on, mess up your hair!

Tell her!

"I love you!"

I love you, Else!

It'd been abandoned for months.

A scooter that doesn't run wears out.

You swiped it to preserve it.

And I put 5 € in the tank.

Actually, you're a hero.

You know, Dolly,

I'm lucky to have met you, because...

where I'm from a girl like you is phenomenal.

Where do you think I'm from?

We're not in the same world now.

And yet we're hanging out, joshing around, sunbathing.

This might sound weird,

but I feel something between us.

So I wondered,

do you think it's conceivable that one day

we might...

fuck?

Or not?

For sure.

Come on.

Now?

Something better to do?

No...

But where?

In my pad.

I said it more like a plan, I mean...

- You afraid? - No.

Hey, my card! Whoa!

Anyone there? Give it...

Give back my card!

Dolmaire?

Raphaël Dolmaire!

Wilfried Ballu. Grade school, rue Saint-Sulpice.

Of course! Wilfried Ballu.

- Old age is a shipwreck. - Don't be silly.

Just kidding! What're you doing here?

Coaching one of my authors.

You?

I live here. I left Paris more than 10 years ago.

Had lunch?

Yes, I had a bite.

You'll miss out on Chez Will.

Chez Will?

Mm-hm. My seafood restaurant.

Best langoustines around.

I won't deny you the pleasure if it's your place.

And there's always room for langoustines.

I started small.

First a beach bar, then another.

Today...

- I have 10. - Ten? Impressive!

After the pandemic,

people spent their bread on travel.

And leisure. The watchword is treating yourself.

So that suits me.

I love to treat people.

- Here. - Thanks, that's plenty.

And you, still on the Left Bank? Huh?

Hobnobbing with writers at the height of fame?

The heights are in the fog these days.

In your father's time,

Dolmaire Editions was fabulous.

Street-level bookshop.

The scent of the books.

The wooden bookshelf ladder...

The ladder's still there, but no one climbs it anymore.

I'll tell you a secret.

I'm forced to file for bankruptcy come fall.

That bad?

I'm giving it one last shot,

but I need liquid assets that I don't have.

I have cash.

I could inject some bread.

If you don't mind a bumpkin investor.

Are you joking?

Never about money.

How much you need?

- Ah... - Huh?

What was that?

Two-hundred thousand.

That's no biggie.

Two-hundred thousand is a tidy sum!

For me, less than a million

comes and goes.

So if I said, um, for instance...

Two hundred and fifty thousand?

Is that coming or is that...

going?

We'll round it off to 300,000.

I'll confirm by text this evening.

I don't know how to thank you.

Don't thank me.

It's in honor of our wonderful youth in Saint-Germain-des-Prés.

André?

André?

Your drops!

Where is he?

André!

I'm sure something's happened.

I feel tragedy in my bones. Look, goosebumps.

Louna, hon...

Last New Year's you were sure he'd frozen to death.

He was jamming with the neighbors.

Leave your bones alone.

The village bar has concerts.

He's surely there. Relax.

I'm sure he's right.

- Something wrong? - Can't find Gramps.

He wasn't at the beach?

No, everyone's gone.

Uh, does he have a cell?

Yeah, I tried to call, but no answer.

Can I see your phone?

Thanks.

So, André, right?

Dédé.

Dédé, sorry.

The blinking red dot is Dédé.

Look, it's moving. He's moving!

Hold on.

That's really far!

"In 2460 feet, turn right."

"In 2296 feet, turn right."

"In 2132 feet, turn right."

"In 1968 feet, turn right."

"In 1476 feet, turn right."

"In 1312 feet, turn right."

Let me, he's my father.

No. When you're emotionally involved,

you don't think clearly.

"In 656 feet, turn right."

"In 492 feet, turn right."

Enough! I heard I have to turn right.

Then why'd you miss the turn?

Shit.

Stop talking every five seconds!

When I drive, I have to focus. I need silence.

"Turn around ASAP."

Shit.

Hear that? Turn around.

Yes, as soon as possible.

Drive all the way to Paris if you want.

Hey, take it easy!

I'm the one who geolocated him.

Typical rich boy views bubbling up.

Rich boy?

What's the point?

"Turn around ASAP."

I know, I heard you!

Rich boy, swanky.

Moneybags, those who know, talking down to the little guy.

What's the connection?

I'm just trying to drive my car properly.

There we go. "My" car,

"my" clinic, "my" money...

You gonna turn around or not?

Stop it!

Your shouting's a pain in the ass.

- We still gotta turn around! - Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

Easy. Give me my phone.

See?

"My" phone.

Why does it say 300 feet?

Right on the cliff. What is this?

André!

André!

What's with you? My dad's not a pooch.

- He's not a Labrador! - Labradors make it home alone.

It has to come from the gut.

- Andre! Andre! Andre! - Oh!

Jeez.

Andre! Andre!

I don't understand. The little red thingy stopped blinking.

Andre! Dédé!

If it's not beeping, he can't be far.

Unbelievable. He came to throw himself off this cliff.

- Like old elephants. - What?

When they sense the end is near, they leave the herd and...

Ciao.

Is that him there?

That vile, dislocated, shapeless heap?

It's a rock. It's not moving.

When you jump 100 feet down, your vitality takes a hit.

Would you...

Shut the hell up, okay?

That's it.

I've figured you out.

You're a pervert. You play with people's nerves.

Isn't that what you do with your drill?

And you get paid.

It's curative care, not a personal pleasure.

Scumbag.

Look at you, loser.

Cyril, over here!

André!

Whoa! Wait for me!

"Madeleine's Cliff."

What an idiot!

Guys!

I shoulda realized. Madeleine was my mother's name.

She died last winter.

Holy cow.

Son of a gun.

There's no having peace and quiet.

I was worried, that's all.

Worried. Cyril, listen.

I'm 80. Remember?

I know. But you forgot Mom real quick.

What did you say?

How dare you? I loved your mother madly.

You know that.

But it was, how can I put it, a winter love.

We met in Nancy. Under heavy snow.

A year after, we got married.

Snowing again.

You were born in March, and it was still snowing.

- I'm sorry. - You see, with Henriette...

It's a summer love.

Understand?

A lighter love.

More short-lived than the one with your mom.

But...

At my age, it's phenomenal. Huh?

I would like to raise a toast

to our dear dentist,

who's treating us to this king's feast. Thank you.

Thank you!

I'd like to raise my glass

to André and Henriette for reminding us that love is ageless.

Yes.

The snow of your hair Does not extinguish the fire

In a long and cruel flame

- The inner wolves consume me

- Aragon! - Aragon!

The wolves of love, of course.

To Henriette!

And to delicious Rillettes du Mans?

Come on, I'm just teasing!

The only thing I ask

is that you spare me and the kids a little brother or sister.

- No worries there! - Ah...

Who knows? I'm still here!

Listen to that.

Look at him. I swear!

To Henriette and Dédé!

- To health and happiness. - To health and happiness.

- Some brandy? - No, thank you.

Go sit next to your son.

You took care of everything. I'll finish. Sit.

So?

Have you read it?

I have.

And?

Uh, how can I put this? You know, literature...

I mean, not really literature, but writing...

is an art where subjectivity holds a prominent place.

Meaning?

The tastes and sensitivity of each person...

Excuse me just a sec. Ah.

Okay for 300,000. Meet me at Chez Will.

To put it bluntly, I think Dolmaire Editions

are too stuffy to support a generational project.

You fucking with me?

Absolutely not.

Dolmaire Editions got stuffy fast.

I can find colleagues more likely to...

You're too cowardly to say it to my face!

What?

You heard me. No balls!

I'm sparing your ego. What do you want to hear?

The truth, Raphaël!

No one wants that.

Yes, I do!

It's a pile of horse manure.

A rickety table wouldn't want it as a wedge!

So keep doing your blog bullshit,

and don't piss on literature's feet.

She's a fragile old lady, okay?

What drives you crazy

is that a pretty girl like me can shake up your mortuary!

Know what? Go croak with your books!

Of course.

And while I'm at it, you're the cheapest of cheapskates,

you fiak-face!

Thank the asshole for ruining the best evening of the summer!

Hello, luvies!

Drama at the villa tonight. I just clashed with my publisher.

Did she say "fiak-face?"

Funny that. I think in my day we said

ugly SOB or ugly mug...

The FIAC was a contemporary art fair, slightly over-hyped.

But it appears that in Dolly's parlance, it means butthead.

Evening. Thank you. Bye.

Hey, Raph...

Frankly, I'm peeved at myself.

I hate myself for believing.

Your book's a lightning rod.

Dolmaire's been straight with me.

A social network chick with an egghead

is sketchy to start with.

This weighs a ton.

- Give me the last sip there. - Ah, yeah.

There. Salud.

- For the captain. - Mm!

Thanks, comrade. We shouldn't waste.

Boy, they are heavy.

I have you to thank.

I hadn't spent five minutes with Lucas without arguing in ages.

Maybe together we're the perfect mother.

What's the credit card PIN?

What for?

Download a backgammon app.

Why don't you play with the twins?

They're perfectly nice,

but fairly shallow and immature.

- Uh... they're 8 years old. - That's no excuse.

For the PIN, ask your dad.

Passing the buck. Fine educational principles you have!

- What's the PIN to your card? - Huh?

Uh, not sure. I'll look later. Grab a chair.

No, they're too heavy. What's the PIN?

I said later. Grab a chair.

And I said they're too heavy.

I saw Cyril on the verge of an asthma attack.

The PIN, please?

We're by the seaside, drop the tablet.

The fucking PIN, Eric.

Excuse me?

What did you say?

The fucking PIN, Eric.

You're such an asshole!

- Are you nuts? - I've had it up to here with that kid!

High IQ, high EQ, dys-whatever!

- Dys what? - Come on!

All his grand speeches about life and wood-drift crap!

If we have a son one day, I want him to be dumb as a...

chair!

If we have a son?

I mean if we have another.

Mm-hm.

It just so happens that I have one.

So don't ask me to choose between you two. It'll be a no-brainer.

Alex.

Alex. Alex.

Alex.

Open up.

Alex.

You can talk to me.

I won't tell your dad.

He's not my dad.

Don't say that.

I know what he did sucks.

He shouldn't have hit you.

Physical abuse leads nowhere.

You're right to be angry.

He was a real ass.

With hindsight, maybe I deserved the slap.

Hearing Eric's fed up with my so-called difference hurts.

I didn't choose to be this way.

Open the window at least to breathe.

It doesn't work. Nothing works in this car.

Good night.

Again, the proles do the dishes!

Come help instead of complaining.

Holy cow!

What is it?

I'm stuck. Ow...

Eric was right. You sold a kidney to rent this place.

Don't make me laugh. I'm stuck and it hurts.

What can I do?

Gimme a kiss for starters.

Another one.

I feel better already. Come with me.

Let's split.

The rich folk can do the dishes tomorrow.

You sure?

My old man's no slacker.

He's just afraid of fucking up.

And yet, when he was young, he was talented.

He sang in bars and at weddings.

One time, a producer invited him to sing in Monaco.

Two thousand people.

Insane.

He bailed because he was shitting himself.

Actually,

Dolmaire's a bit the same.

Everything new scares him.

Only normal.

His life is mostly behind him too.

Your pa may be looking behind him,

but he cares about you.

Mine...

he never calls or leaves a message.

Not even a text.

You...

Didn't you say your dad had lost all his fingers?

That said,

with a daughter like you, he can't be that bad.

You're saving my life.

I came this close to tarnishing my reputation.

- Time for champagne! - I'd love some.

Thanks.

To the unscathed reputation of Dolmaire Editions.

Mmm.

You know... a memory has haunted me for years.

Ah.

It's trivial,

but it's one of those things you can't forget.

Remember what you called me in school?

Wilfried, I imagine.

Or maybe...

Willou...

Is that it?

Yes, during recess.

But when I joined my dad at the fish shop.

Do you remember the song you made up with your friends?

- No? - No.

No?

♪ It stinks of pooh In rue Saint-Sulpice ♪

♪ Where we just saw Little Wilfried Ballu ♪

♪ It's Wilfried Ballu ♪

♪ Wilfried Fishew He stinks of pooh ♪

♪ It's Wilfried Fishew ♪

♪ Wilfried Fishew He's gone now, phew! ♪

I remember now!

We're so silly at that age.

We were 10. It was harmless fun.

Oh.

Five school mates screaming every day that you reek.

Even under your dad's nose.

How do you feel about that?

Well, I mean...

Forty years later, are you resentful?

Of course not.

I can even tell you

I built my personality on that rage.

There you go.

Here.

Thank you.

I promised myself something...

that you'd pay for it someday.

Get lost.

Drop dead, you and your editions.

Be thankful I'm not kicking your ass.

Scram.

If, uh...

If I died before you,

what kind of guy would you go for?

Where'd that stupid question come from?

I have no desire to think of such a thing. Are you dumb?

I guess.

It's 'cause of Dédé. I see him and...

You're right, it's dumb. Forget it.

Preferably British,

tall,

blond,

with long silky hair.

Really?

That is rather droll because it just so happens,

I was thinking

that I am that sort of chap myself.

Oh, you speak English?

- Yes. - Really?

Yes, yes, yes.

- Oh! - I speak it very well.

Calm tonight, isn't it?

Yes.

A nice change.

You don't mess around.

Want a cup of joe?

- Uh, yes, please. - Mm-hm.

That's my orange juice!

My orange juice.

It's very good.

- Some brioche? - No thanks.

With Nutella?

Ah. Yeah, Nutella.

That's good.

Not organic, but yummy.

Alex and Daphné slept in the car.

Good luck, comrade!

Good luck? That all you can say?

You call everyone comrade, but when in need,

no one's there.

Some team spirit!

It's me. Eric.

It's Daddy. I brought you brioche with Nutella.

Alex, I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me.

It's not true.

I'm not sick of you.

I'm lucky to have a son who's so...

smart and cultivated.

I'm the stupid one.

Worse than a goat.

Come on, Alex. Open up.

I tried too. He wouldn't open up.

I don't want to be the dad who can't talk to his son.

I want to help you.

Aren't we stronger together?

Yeah.

- Heavier too. - Yes, a bit.

Good morning.

Good morning, Dolly.

You know what made me love literature?

Poetry.

That's why I decided to succeed my father.

At your age I was reading Mallarmé, Rimbaud, Verlaine...

I drank absinthe.

I walked with a cane, had smoky eyes...

In short,

I had no personality.

That's why I borrowed one.

Never heard such a rotten apology!

Me neither. So lame.

Yet it's sincere.

It's not my place to judge your book.

After all,

maybe it's literature.

Just not for a fifty-something snob

who's broke and jealous.

Yes, jealous.

To see you conquer the world while...

my horizon is receding inexorably.

Hey, pals!

Trouble in Berger town. The kid won't leave the car.

Coming.

I'll get out from the other end.

Butterfly stroke?

Alex. Mom told me about your pen pal. You should've told me earlier.

You wanted the car to go see her?

From here to Denmark, it's easier to fly.

She's not in Denmark.

Huh?

Where is she?

- In a campground. - Two hours away.

How do they know?

I don't know.

All right, then...

Let's go!

- Where? - To the campground to find...

- Else. - Else. Ah?

Else, that's it.

Alex, sit in front?

Yes!

Wait!

Anyhow, kidnapping a princess is a man thing.

He has no change of clothes.

They'll buy something on the way,

and he'll look handsome for his "Else."

He didn't take the brioche. He hasn't eaten a thing.

He's 14. Give him some space.

- Let's have a spritz! - It's 9 a.m.

So what? Wimp!

What're you afraid of?

Nothing.

Well...

At this speed,

he'll find his princess at Christmas.

Excuse me, but it's 55 mph and there are radars everywhere.

No action going on here.

Listen, this thing's rocket fast.

Come on, Ricou, hon.

Let it rip.

Drive slow when you're dead.

He's right. This isn't a mere vehicle.

It's the car of the future.

And the road's empty.

Let that horsepower galop.

Burn some rubber on this charming road. Let it rip.

Whoa!

There we go!

Oh, fuck.

Shit. Shouldn't have gone so fast.

Suddenly he...

Oh, shit.

Want me to talk? Erudition conquers simple minds.

No thanks. I've got this.

National Gendarmerie. Hello.

- Hello. - Hello.

Hello.

Did you know that since November 1974, there's a speed limit?

Yes, of course I know. It's just that... We're...

We're currently on a...

mission.

Uh, not at all. It's that my son...

Simply, the boy's in love,

and we're off to see his princess at the campground.

Right.

Papers, please.

A love crusade and a father and son reconnection.

Even if he's not really his father.

Of course, I'm his father.

Yeah...

Of course, I'm his father.

He's right. Genetically, it's debatable.

Sure, but this is no time for such subtleties.

I've raised you.

Concretely, yes, but genetically, no.

Have you read Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye, officer?

About a well-heeled boy like this one

wandering New York City streets

a few days before Christmas.

Like him, have you never been paralyzed

by the irrepressible anxiety

of becoming an adult?

- Don't think it's working. - I'm hypnotizing him.

Have a good trip.

Thank you, officer. Have a nice day!

And drop dead.

Two points and a 135-euro fine!

Salinger is hit or miss.

In this case it hits hard. Ah...

No, Brinca, this isn't the time.

Brinca?

- The soccer player? - Yeah.

Every time he scores he thanks me with a poem.

An ACL injury might save me.

Nice. Sounds like Pessoa.

"I lost my wild fauna

Among the glass lake reeds."

You speak Portuguese now?

I have basic knowledge.

Hey... fuck, look.

There it is, on the left.

230...

229...

So many huts!

You said it.

228...

Alex!

Hi there.

Who's this old pervert?

Oh. He's my father.

But he's not that old.

I'm glad to finally put a face to your name.

Alexandre talks about you in his letters.

Does he?

"My dad's a great dentist.

My dad this, my dad that..."

Ah?

What does Else say about me?

Uh...

Lots of stuff.

All nice, on top of it.

Like what?

Um...

I don't know, because it's in Danish.

And, um, Alexandre's not a talker.

We like to leave him alone with his secret garden.

As long as you say, "I love you."

That's so important.

Helmut, sorry, they no longer do herring pizza.

- Ah! - Got what we could.

When a star falls,

a soul ascends to God.

It's beautiful.

I'd love to publish poetry,

but poets are tricky in France.

We have a great one for you.

- Who? - Brinca.

Brinca's not a poet.

No, he's right. Don't be stupid.

The guy's got 200 million followers.

They can't all read, but throw in some emojis,

and you'll have money up the wazoo!

Helmut! It's war.

Palm Grove challenged us, we need players. Come on!

Come quick!

Who's Palm Grove?

The next campground over.

Five-star site, super fit playboys,

satellite dish, wave pool,

the works.

Great! Twits! C'mon, we'll clobber them.

♪ No, don't you leave me like this Baby, I′m beggin'... ♪

Our serve!

♪ Don't take me half way there Then actin′ like ya just don't care ♪

♪ I'm going loco, baby I′m going loco, baby ♪

♪ I′m going loco, baby ♪

♪ There's a club where we can go Get down, lights are low ♪

♪ It′s a place that's outta sight You and me can dance all night ♪

♪ No, don't you leave me, baby No, don't you leave me, baby ♪

♪ I'm going loco ♪

Screw Palm Grove! Screw them!

That's what I'm talking about!

Seems to be going well with Else.

What?

Ah...

Not something a father asks his son?

Okay, don't answer. I respect that.

So I was wondering...

do you want to stay all week?

I talked to Helmut. He agrees.

What about Mom?

Mom, uh... I'll talk to her.

You know...

We'll change how we operate.

I'll try to work less.

Try to be present

more often.

I've still got loans to repay.

On the apartment, the office, the car...

But I figure if I knuckle down hard,

in 10-15 years at the most,

I'll be totally available for you.

I also wanted to tell you...

I want you to know that...

I'm not used to doing it...

I want you to know that...

50 euros might be short for the week.

I love you too, Dad.

Thank you.

I wonder if I have prostatitis.

Who cares! It's not a vital organ.

Aren't you a tad hypochondriac?

No way!

It can't be!

What?

Oh, yeah.

Lucky for us he's not looking down.

He's here! Shit, it's tonight!

It's destiny! Let's get moving!

Whose destiny, exactly?

I don't get it. We're just going home.

Changing plans at the last minute? No.

GÉRARD LENORMAN EXCEPTIONAL CONCERT

Come on, how old are you? It's just a concert.

No, sir, it's not "just a concert."

Lenorman is an extraordinary guy.

He's had a thousand lives. Wrote for Brigitte Bardot, right?

Played in musicals, even did the Dakar Rally.

That'd appeal to us?

Sold thousands of albums too.

Translated the world over. He wrote the "Happy People" song.

Right, the happy people,

the Yellow Vests, flowered shirts...

You live in a utopia.

- Maybe so. - It's a good thing.

Meanwhile, he got that...

that medal... with arts and all...

and merit.

That's right!

That should speak to the egghead.

Why you turning?

Oh, no.

Tell me it's not true, guys! No way.

Oh-ho-ho!

- How'd you get last-minute tickets? - Shh!

Two years ago, just before a concert, he had an abscess.

Quit talking about choppers! Enjoy the concert.

What dentist sees patients after 8 p.m.?

The colleague's crown was a disaster...

Hush! Enjoy the concert.

That's right, guys.

I don't act like a princess, do I?

We are princesses.

- Plain and simple. - You're right. We are princesses.

In I go!

Midnight dips are in the buff, but I'm not ready.

Best vacation of my whole life!

Totes!

Will I see you again in Paris?

I've been told

that in the audience tonight there's...

get this...

my big, big, big fan,

and I'd like him to come sing with me.

His name is

Cyril Toussaint.

Is there another Cyril?

Cyril! Cyril! Cyril!

I'm inviting him to come join us.

How's he know that?

Cyril! Cyril! Cyril!

He knows the words!

That's right!

You sing it often?

Not to be pushy, but...

could I meet your soccer player?

The one with 200 million followers.

That's right.

We go to the stadium, us three. So I can meet Brinca.

It could be good for me.

Okay, fine.

Everybody!

Mr. Lenorman, thank you so much.

Gérard's the name.

Thank you, Gérard.

Guys,

did I tell you that was the best day of my life?

- Yes, you did. - The best day of my life!

- Show me the video. - No!

Come on!

Show me the video again.

Let him see it, if he wants.

As good as it gets.

Guys,

I have a kind of goofy idea.

I have a family apartment in Megève.

Want to celebrate New Year's together?

- Why not? - Sure.

Are you joking?

Great.

If Dolmaire Editions escapes bankruptcy thanks to Brinca,

champagne is on me.

No way.

Champagne is on me!

Come empty-handed. You're my guests.

Hear that, Cyril? The bosses are treating!

Yeah...

The roads to Paris...

have changed, haven't they?

It's weird because I don't recognize Paris.

Paris?

Mind if we

finish vacation first, or you in a hurry?

Cyril.

- Cyril? He's not well. - What's wrong?

- Cyril. Cyril. - Oh, shit.

- Shit, shit. - Cyril.

Can you hear me?

How is he?

- We put him on Soradol. - Good.

What's Soradol?

We contacted the hospital where he's treated.

Treated?

Sorry, I thought you knew. You can go in and see him.

- Knew what? - Soradol

is a drug given to patients who have...

cancer.

- Greetings, comrade. - Yo.

How do you feel?

Never been better.

Have you told Louna?

No.

I wanted to spend

good times with her...

Just enjoy life.

Not shitty news.

You should probably tell her.

Before she finds out on her own.

You're right.

Well, then...

- We'll leave you. - Wait.

Who's your oncologist? What are your options?

I know Dr. Doukan at your hospital.

I don't need to tell you we're not equal.

In health care, it's worse.

Let's let him rest. Call him later.

With cancer, there's no later, damn it!

Come on!

How long do you have?

I don't know what his chances are.

It's not algebra.

If I were him, I'd want to know.

A chance in two isn't the same as one in three.

Right?

What chances

do we have of keeping you?

What chances?

Want the truth?

Yes.

One in four.

But hey,

don't make such faces.

Gotta see the bright side. That's 25%.

Imagine a 25% loan. That's big bucks.

Since this summer, I believe in miracles.

How else could we spend our vacation together?

Honestly! Isn't that a miracle?

You jerk.

Why didn't you tell me?

Because...

I wanted us to spend the best summer we ever had.

Summer's not over.

No, it's not over.

Nothing's over.

No, no, no.

Besides, the fellas paid two-thirds of the rent.

We're flush, so...

Yes, my love.

I thought it over.

The fella I'm supposed to go for...

I don't want him to be British, or tall, or blond, with long silky hair.

I don't want another.

You're so right.

I have everything I need.

Alex!

Hey, comrade!

Hey, followers! Recognize me? Raphaël Dolmaire.

- Fiak-face. - For those in the know.

I'm starting a new department.

It'll be called "Click your Poetry." Who gave me the idea?

It was Dolly Di.

So I chose her, if she agrees, to be its patron.

And she said...

Yes.

She agreed! So cool!

Great!

See you, besties.

LOL!

A brewski, comrade?

Is the pope Catholic?

Ain't got none!

You get a Grand Cru.

Screw the proles!

Friends,

I gotta say something...

which is...

I'd never have thought I could get along

with Dr. House and Aragon,

with Princess Daphné,

with Miss Follower, uh...

Thank you. It's etched here.

Cheers!

Cheers, son! That's my boy.

I love you.

SOUNDTRACK

Subtitles Translated by: Sherlene Alvarez, Jan Joseff Genduso, Ralph Ballesteros