Original subtitles

It's a bargain, I must say.

The second floor of a former rest home. A real jewel.

Solid old walls.

Seven rooms, kitchen, and bath for a million. It's a steal.

You're a young lawyer You know the purchase terms.

Loan, escrow, under-the-table payment,

and 10% to secure the deal.

Let me find the big key.

I sold this very place to a young doctor 20 years ago.

A thorough fellow. A bit stuffy.

He inspected everything, asked terse questions.

The place was empty and dirty and going for a song.

It took some imagination, but she had plenty.

His wife was gorgeous.

A dreamer.

I remember her white satin dress.

A dream of a woman.

Twenty years later she was unrecognizable.

Even her eyes had turned pale.

Then the tragedy happened. Poor thing.

The doctor and children left town a week later.

He abandoned his thriving practice.

He was a highly regarded gerontologist.

The house had nothing to do with the tragedy,

but it's why the price is so low.

To sell quickly and forget.

It was a rest home,

but it could make a grand residence.

A doctor should think big.

Some people decide everything on the spot:

our bed there, the sofa here, your desk, my dresser...

They have no furniture or children,

but in these empty rooms lies their future.

A future conditional, of course.

We realtors do the same thing.

I already picture your family, your clientele...

your bedroom, waiting room, game room...

I'm glad you're not a gynecologist.

Fewer temptations.

Jealousy is a nasty trait.

I don't want you cheating on me.

Don't talk nonsense.

I'm pregnant all the time.

Yet you slim down immediately! You're a marvel of nature.

Children, respect your food and those who provide it.

Yes, Dad.

Pacôme, sit up straight.

Louise, elbows off the table.

Sophie, hands off the plate.

It's a huge, old-fashioned kitchen.

You can prepare memorable dishes for your children here.

You'll have it in working order in no time.

- Michèle. - What do you want?

A hug.

You want one too?

Your shirt's inside out.

Don't cry, sweetie. Mommy will be back soon.

Is the lady of the house in?

Need some cotton thread? Very cheap.

We don't need a thing, thanks.

No, nothing.

Shall I read your palm?

Hypertension... stroke...

degeneration... temporal lobe...

blood clots...

arteriosclerosis...

I just put Louise to bed. I think it's measles.

I hope the others don't get it.

I don't know what to do.

Would you come see her?

Give her an aspirin. I'll come later.

Tonight is Professor Lambert's party.

It's very important for my career.

Cerebral hemorrhage... aneurysm...

Dear Michèle, what would I do without you?

It's ready. Shall I serve now?

Nicolas, sit down.

Give me that ball!

Are you kidding?

Come here.

Go take your seat.

I'm not hungry.

Sit down. In this house you'll learn good manners.

I'll have an apple in my room.

What?

I've graduated.

I'm an adult now.

I won't obey you like a soldier.

Louise! What's gotten into you?

You boys can do as Dad says if you want.

Not me. I'm leaving home. I want to be free.

“Any cry for freedom challenges us in some way.

But the study of the history of civilizations,

and our future in society as outlined by our father,

oblige me to ignore my sister.

Her cry is a vain protuberance,

a wrong note, the cackling of hens.”

Are you done?

There's a good auction house nearby

for furniture, pictures, and antiques.

The nuns and old folks left nothing behind.

But these walls have a soul. That's something.

I didn't want to leave this place.

I was happy in this rest home.

I didn't want to leave.

I must show you the bathroom.

A bathroom in a rest home is a large family's dream.

A washbasin for each person.

DREAM

I remember Gaston and Angèle.

Such impeccable servants. So devoted.

I look at you and wonder how I ever fell in love.

I can't even remember being in love with you

or how you ever attracted me.

That Yolanda left cigarette butts in the hall again.

She's a good cook, and she's frugal,

but I hate her clothes and cigarettes.

All that smoke! Thank God the children don't smoke.

At least we taught them that.

Not only have you gained 45 pounds,

but your face has changed.

Your eyes are paler. Your lips are pursed.

Your face has definitely changed. Your eyes are paler.

Your lips are pursed.

I remember Gaston and Angèle.

So helpful, devoted, and impeccable.

Pity they caught that awful disease.

True, you're a presentable wife,

and I do trust you.

And big fat Michèle.

When the kids were babies, she did everything.

I was sure sorry when she died.

Some colleagues my age have charming wives.

Dr. Mercier. A charming wife.

Mrs. Mercier... what a charming woman.

One can't find good servants nowadays.

That Yolande!

She works hard, but she smokes too much.

And she doesn't clean in the corners.

A guy said to me “Take a drag on this!”

I don't understand that.

The High Council of the Institute

of Paranatural Research is satisfied.

Today I'm the happiest of zoosystemicians.

I now hope to play a major role

in the theatrical realm of knowledge.

I'm writing a zoologistical text

that combines fabricatory,

declamatory, symbolic,

phantasmatic, and testiculatory acts

with logical, rational, axiomatizable acts.

In short, I taxidermatize concepts.

Leave behind superficial living

to dive into mucilaginous artifice,

or better yet, into the Hypoficial.

What's for dinner tonight?

Speak nicely to your father. You're always quarreling.

Have you seen my toothpaste?

He adores his children.

But he's a pain in the ass.

Your boyfriends gone to your head.

- Have you ever loved a man? - Your father!

Louis was very handsome and very charming.

“Louise” makes me a daddy's girl. I'm changing my name.

I don't like you smoking while you cook.

And button up your apron.

Shall I hand it in for good?

Not that! What would I do without you, Yolande?

Everyone there? Can I serve?

Then all my troubles began.

I stayed for 11 years.

And all along the hallway...

there were windows.

We'd open them.

Crack them open.

Some wider than others.

You know what time it is?

That won't make me obey you.

Go on to bed!

The smell of grass after it rains...

that's life.

When I was a kid in the country,

Mom would send us outside to clean her knives.

We'd stick the blades in the dirt

to scour them from top to bottom.

I didn't want to leave this place.

I have to get out of this house.

I want to go to Mexico and play the sax.

Real life lies out beyond those trees, not here.

I don't know what I want, but I know what I don't want.

I often watch Dad's mouth when he talks.

I see a pink slit amid his facial hair.

Dad's beard, Dad's mustache.

I don't even hear what he says. I'm not even interested.

I want everything except what's here.

Morn doesn't understand anything.

At least you have no kids. You don't talk about labor.

Mom went into detail again earlier about all our births.

One of them died.

The other is Pitou. He does as he pleases.

Anyway, I want none of it.

I want a career, not a family.

You're right! Leave! You're 18.

You can always leave at 18.

What can they say?

They can't tie you up.

As for money...

swipe the silver and sell it.

No, don't. They'd accuse me.

I'll figure out how to get their credit card number.

Or ask for your inheritance.

You have it coming. No need to kill them.

Demand what's rightfully yours.

Children, what a misfortune!

Such a fine man!

- He loved you very much. - We barely knew him.

Poor Mireille.

Aunt Simone looks so upset.

This is a terrible trial for you.

Be brave.

You still have your family.

We respected him very much.

We'll help you.

Do you know what “making love” means?

I know some words

like ass, cunt, iron prick,

droopy dick, hairy nuts,

silver balls, red oysters,

cock-shaped umbilical cord,

blossoming boner, pussy, sex, fuck,

knocked up,

ejaculating cock, super cock,

titty titty bang bang,

bottle cock.

I'm all sex, sex, sex.

The wind makes my heart pound.

You make my heart pound.

It's true.

We speak in clichés.

I'm so impatient to see you.

I think of you constantly. I can't stand it.

I love you so much.

I want everything. I'm swept away.

Me too.

I want to be with you always.

You fill my heart.

- Impatient... - It's true...

With you always...

I can't wait...

My heart's pounding...

I'm breaking eggs.

Breaking eggs...

I love breaking eggs.

I could spend my life breaking eggs.

I like to stare at the whites... of their eyes.

Any that miss the dish

are up for grabs.

Can't make an omelet without breaking eggs!

Monsieur likes 'em real runny.

I'm troubled by their vertigo

that dissociates live flesh from artificial flesh...

I don't even hear what he says.

I'm not even interested.

Eighteen lost years.

I can't wait.

I want everything except what's here.

Everything I imagined that day suddenly came back to me.

That was a long time ago.

Here's the key.

Shall we have a look?

I'm sure you'll like it.

This film was shot at the St. Louis Rest Home in Avignon,

during the Alive and Artificial exhibition,

created by Louis Bec in 1984.

Our thanks to D. Sanchez and H. Mangani for the kitchen,

C. Tobas and J. Tartaroli for the bathroom.

Cast: Father: H. Mangani, then L. Bec

Mother: S. Cohen-Tanugi, then C. Bonnet

Eldest Son: P. Esposito

Eldest Daughter: C. de Barbeyrac

Boyfriend: F. Chevalier

The good maid: M. Nespoulet

The Belgian maid: Y. Moreau

Crew:

Cinematography: Nurith Aviv

Assistant: P. Gordower

Sound: D. Olivier

Editing: S. Mamou

Mixing: P. Bertault

Gaffer: D. Testud

Grip: B. Largemains

Unit Manager: F. Noël

Assistant: D. Treillou

Interns: A. Knees and M. Henrio

Music: P. Barbaud

Soloist: J. C. Bernède, Hortensia Publishers.

Clouseau Publishers for Petite Roquette by E. Tabuchi,

sung by the Tokow Boys.

Lab: G. T. C. Recording Studio: Auditel

Film: Fuji

A Ciné-Tamaris Production

with the C.N.A.P. and F.I.A.C.R.E. of the Ministry of Culture

Seven Rooms, Kitchen, and Bath

Written and directed by Agnès Varda