Original subtitles

Olivier spent happy days in Montmartre up until the death of his beloved mother Virginie.

Deprived of both parents, Olivier finds comfort in David, his best friend.

Devastated by the crash, David's parents must leave France for America.

Olivier plans a runaway with David, but this attempt fails.

Monsieur Privat, a mysterious friend of Olivier's mother,

proposes to take him in, despite his rich aunt Victoria's objections.

But the young orphan wishes to stay in his own neighbourhood, close to Bougras,

l'Araignée, Mado, and all of his buddies.

His cousin Jean, who gives him a home, suddenly finds himself without work.

This time, Olivier can no longer stay in Montmartre.

His uncle places him in a big college, where he will spend all summer.

It is then that his cousin Marceau comes to get him.

Marceau is the only child of Aunt Victoria and Uncle Henri.

He is dismissed from the sanatorium, supposedly cured.

A brilliant and outspoken young man, Olivier is in awe of him.

But one evening, he comes to understand that his cousin is still very sick.

Hoping his parents will never find out, Marceau makes Olivier promise never to speak about it.

Wild Hazelnuts

...we are pleased to have him join a jam session,

a big round of applause for Mister...

Louis Armstrong!

You shouldn't have played, Marceau.

In your condition, it's madness.

Look, Olivier.

An invitation to the Cotton Club for New Year's Eve.

By Louis Armstrong himself.

- I see you're coughing up blood! - It's nothing.

I just cut my lip.

Happens all the time to trumpet players.

Don't mention anything to my Divine.

You swear?

Dear students, some of you might wonder why...

you would need to learn Latin. Who today speaks Latin, right?

The pope, monsieur.

No. Not just him. Everybody still speaks Latin,

starting with you. Let me demonstrate.

Sussé, your father is a Senator. From the Latin word senatum, from senis,

which means ancient, wise.

Now pick a word at random.

- Light. - Perfect example of Latin roots.

Light comes from the word Lux, the light.

Something that is Lux-urious is something that is brilliant.

Your turn to choose a word, Châteauneuf.

Poetry.

Poetry comes from the Latin word poesis,

which in turn comes from the Greek poïesis, meaning creation.

Delépine, which word would you like to know the root of?

Football.

Now here's an example of a barbaric term we adopted,

let alone its simple translation in our language.

"Football", in our language should mean:

ball at the foot,

from the Latin pedibus, meaning foot and...

Excuse me...

Medical examination visit. Line up in pairs and follow me in silence.

- I said in silence. - Visit.

From the word vis. To see.

And medical, from Medicus, the doctor.

Châteauneuf?

Yes, that's me.

- This is a surprise, Olivier! - Good day, Mr. Lehman.

I mean, doctor.

- What are you doing here? - I was about to ask you the same thing.

My aunt sent me here.

After the death of my mother, I had to leave Montmartre.

So did I. The number of patients I had in my care was dwindling;

so I found this position.

Good, now open wide.

I hate myself for what happened to your mother.

Perhaps I didn't do enough for her.

- You didn't like me very much, did you? - Well...

I don't know. Not very much, no.

Believe me, I didn't want to take your father's place, Olivier.

I just wanted to help your mother.

In any event, she didn't like you.

I think she did a bit. Now, sit straight.

For you it's very sad. She died so young.

I see your aunt is taking good care of you. Everything is fine.

You're in perfect health.

That's it. You can get dressed, now.

Thank you, doctor.

Tell me doctor?

- I would like to ask you... - Yes?

When people get...

when they come down with tuberculosis,

can they get sick again, even after being cured?

Of course.

The terrible thing about this illness, a real cure still hasn't been found.

Whether one is vaccinated or not, relapses are common place.

If we cough up blood, it means we're still sick?

Yes, and it's really serious.

It's typical, as are repeated coughs,

and sometimes even loss of consciousness.

- Is it contagious? - Oh yes, extremely contagious!

But why are you asking me this?

Well...

I want to write a poem on tuberculosis.

On tuberculosis?

Yes, why not?

It's true, Lamartine...

La Dame aux camélias.

Thank you, doctor.

You'll make yourself sick reading so much!

You think so?

Are those shoes ready yet, Marguerite?

Yes, all done, madame.

Good evening, Olivier.

Good evening, aunt.

Your week at the college went well?

I think so.

You think so?

Reading is a healthy habit, Olivier, but not at the table.

What are you reading?

Still reading Without Family!

But I gave you that one over a month ago.

I love reading it over again.

Granted. But there are other books more essential.

You look lovely, dear aunt.

Well, aren't you the gallant one!

This evening gown is for the French Club. Henri is taking me.

You should say to the "Comédie- Française", mother.

How could he possibly understand, he's unversed.

I know it's Saturday,

but getting up at sunset is a bit exaggerated, don't you think?

Mother, I'm preparing myself for the time difference.

It is now 11 o'clock in New York.

Don't plan too far ahead, Marceau.

Your trip is not official yet.

Don't forget.

Come, my little outcast, I need to speak with you.

Thank you, Marguerite.

You won't believe what's happening to me. I'm in love!

I met a woman yesterday at a Party gathering.

- What Party? - The Communist Party!

You know, the Reds.

She's simply amazing. A mix between Louise Brooks and Rosa Luxemburg.

She's a surrealist like me. A dream come true.

There's just one problem: she's 15 years older.

I want to read you a poem I wrote her.

"Crimson heart, pierced by faith,

"May he who has never loved you never reach your depth."

Not bad for a start, don't you think?

I'm brilliant.

Go ahead, tell me.

"Marceau, you're brilliant."

- Marceau, you're brilliant. - Oh no, it's pathetic.

You can't really understand poetry.

You're stuck on Victor Hugo or Leconte de Lisle.

You know nothing about women.

You've never been in love.

I know nothing about women?

I do know one. Her name is Mado.

And she's a taxi-girl.

- Besides, we're engaged. - Come on.

Don't make up stories just to try to impress me.

You'll see if I'm telling the truth. You'll see. Come.

Here. Rinse your eyes on this.

She gave it me as a memento.

To someone else, you mean!

You probably stole it from your mother's boutique.

Nice piece, though.

And this is her calling card.

- She gave it to me personally. - "Le Bouchon de Champagne".

In that case, bravo.

You surprise me.

- Are you still seeing this Mado? - Of course not.

Not since my arrival here.

Don't look so sad. We'll fix that.

- Is she pretty, at least? - Very pretty!

Look. I just started a new novel.

- Can you read it to me? - Yes, of course.

"I was born, like everyone, from a mother and a father.

"And yet, I am not like everyone.

"One question haunts me:

"did my father and mother love each other?

"Were I not conceived in a state of love, I would rather die."

- You dare read this to me? - You asked me to.

You shouldn't! You're violating my intimacy.

You're a little pervert!

You shouldn't have...

You don't understand!

It's not because you're older...

You wouldn't strike a sick person, would you?

That's just it, you're really sick.

- Dr Lehman says you're having a relapse. - What?

Who's this Dr. Lehman? You mentioned me?

It's the college physician.

I asked him about tuberculosis.

I know what happened to you the other day.

You were losing consciousness.

If you're spitting blood, it's serious and contagious. You need help!

You should inform your parents.

I see where you're going with this.

You want to stop me from leaving,

send me back to the sanatorium and take my place, here.

- You're crazy, Marceau. - Hypocrite!

You think I didn't catch your little act with mother?

"You look lovely, dear aunt."

- Ass-licker. - I'm doing it for you!

Don't forget you promised me your silence.

You're like a brother to me.

I owe you one.

- Julienne! - Sorry, aunt.

Marceau!

You can play your Negro music when you are alone, but not in the middle of Chopin!

Forgive me, mother. I rather stop here.

Chopin's tear-jerking romanticism makes me yawn.

It's really music for TB patients.

My poor boy!

I thought you had finally shed the awkward age,

but you still revel in it.

Mother, please. Spare me your cliches.

My dear, your son is extremely rude right now.

Marceau, please!

If you want to go on your trip, you better clean up your act.

Monsieur! You are wanted on the telephone.

Hello!

Oh yes.

Yes. I know who this is.

Listen, it's a delicate issue for me.

You know that my wife doesn't...

Good. Then it's agreed.

I will be there in 15 minutes, under the arches.

Please...

Let me see Olivier.

- He's not your child. - I know that.

But I could be just like a father to him.

He had his chance. He chose not to go with you.

But he's no longer in his favorite neighbourhood.

Please stop right there, monsieur Privat.

My wife would never allow it.

On what grounds?

You didn't take him in out of love.

Put yourself in her place.

You came to our home to kill your brother and Virginie.

And now you would want to take their son?

I didn't kill anyone.

And I spent time behind bars.

Thirteen years of my life.

I need this child to give meaning to my life.

But does he need you?

Even if we handed him over to you,

think of what people would say.

Believe me, I can understand your pain.

But think about the day Olivier will learn everything about your past.

I'm certain he will be able to forgive me.

Of course he'll forgive you.

But once you tell him the whole truth,

you'll be shattering the image he has of his parents.

Do you think you have the right to do that?

You're grounded, Châteauneuf!

Marceau! You're crazy. You'll get us both in trouble!

No we won't, my little yellow belly.

The supervisor just ended his last round.

He'll soon be asleep.

I came to take your place.

- Take my place? What are you talking about? - Listen carefully.

There's a ladder in the courtyard. You climb up,

and down the other side using the street lamp.

It's easy. A 5 year-old could do it.

There you'll see a bike. You get on it,

and within 10 minutes you wind up at the Bouchon de Champagne.

Here.

Here's some money to have a good time.

I'll take your place, in case the supervisor can't sleep.

I don't think I can pull it off. I'm too scared.

I've done it dozens of times without ever getting caught.

"Audaces fortuna juvat", Olivier.

It's time to see if your life will be that of a sheep,

or if you will write it yourself, every day.

Don't you want to see Mado again?

Good evening.

Good evening, mam'zelle Mado

Good evening, m'sieur Hubert. See you later.

Mado! Mam'zelle Mado!

It can't be! Is it really you, Olivier?

Only you would play tricks on me like this.

- What are you doing, here? - I came to dance with you.

- I snuck out. - For me?

That wasn't very smart.

Are you angry with me?

Not at all! I'm actually moved.

You can't follow me inside, though.

Now there, don't be sad.

Wait, I have an idea. Jules?

Ask G.G. to come out with his accordion.

- I have a little commission for him. - On my way.

Give him 10 francs, he'll be happy.

- I'll give him 20! - No, that's too much.

You asked for me, Mado?

Yes, G.G. Here's a young client for you.

What shall I play for you?

Olivier, what would you like?

A tango!

A tango for my little fiance.

How about: The Most Beautiful Tango in The World?

- Yes, that's fine. - I'm not a very good dancer.

You'll do fine.

I took the liberty of asking for you...

so you might help me solve a little problem...

regarding Olivier.

- Has he been naughty? - No, rest assured.

I was forced,

and this is only a temporary measure of course,

to confiscate this elegant pen which arrived in the mail.

- It was intended for Olivier? - Indeed, madame.

In this college, we discourage possession of valuable objects...

which would risk to excite the greed of certain pupils...

towards their more fortunate peers.

But who sent him this gift?

I was about to ask you the same question.

I thought it might be you.

I'm not in the habit of spoiling children with gifts of this value.

- May I see Olivier? - By all means.

I've already sent for him. He's waiting in the vestibule.

Come in, Olivier.

I leave you together.

Good day, aunt.

Who sent you this pen?

I... I don't know, aunt.

Did Privat send it?

Don't lie to me, Olivier.

This pen was purchased near Saugues.

It could only have come from him.

Have the courage to tell me the truth.

Yes. It is a gift from Monsieur Privat.

I will send it back.

You must never accept anything from this man.

But why not, aunt?

You're too young to know about these things.

But I need to know! It's my pen after all.

Since you put it like that, I'll tell you.

One day, in December of 1917, the war was still raging,

Privat came to my home where your parents were staying and fired his gun.

- He wanted to kill them, Olivier. - No, that's not true.

I don't believe you. Why was my mother intent on living with him?

I'm still trying to figure that out.

Your mother and I never saw eye to eye on many things.

Why didn't you tell me sooner?

I didn't want you to get upset.

I hope we never have to discuss this matter ever again.

Anyway, sooner or later,

you would have found out.

Enter.

Hi, Marceau.

- Am I disturbing you? - Not at all, young man.

Have a seat, please.

You'll never forget the moments you experience,

but will you know how to appreciate them?

Of course you will. Because you are pure.

Wild child.

Street child. Oh child king.

- Please stop gloating at my expense! - You see,

she dropped me.

Who did?

This militant girl who wrote these pathetic lines.

She killed me.

I'm down to listening to this music for rejected lovers.

All around me,

"everything is order and beauty."

And yet, my pain is real.

Why?

Marceau...

You knew about...

about my parents and Privat?

What are you talking about?

Well...

The time Privat... the time he came here.

Your mother told me the story.

The Divine finally coughed it up?

Yes. Privat fired shots at them.

In fact, it happened right here.

In this very room where your parents stayed.

I was only 2 at the time. I don't remember anything.

But look.

Look at the mirror.

Impacts left by the bullets.

See where love can lead?

A few centimeters to the side...

and you'd never have been born, my little outcast.

But rest assured,

I would have invented you.

Why didn't you tell me?

Because this story is boring as hell, my friend.

Two grown men love the same woman.

An ordinary drama based on jealousy.

You're mama was nothing more than a small-time goddess, as my mother put it.

Come on, cheer up.

I don't want to see you suffer, my little angel.

Please spare me your expressions of grandeur!

We are both injured and abandoned souls.

Like two starlings fallen from the nest.

Yes?

M. Marceau, a girl is asking for you.

- A girl? - Mlle Charlotte Dalet.

Charlotte?

Have her come in, quick!

A woman leaves me, I find another.

- Who is she? - The nurse from the sanatorium.

- The one who... - Who taught me how to love.

- You know what you have to do? - Change wards.

- Good day, Marceau. - Charlotte!

What a joy to see you again!

I'll give you some privacy.

No. Stop it, Marceau.

So, if I can't kiss you,

what brings you to Paris?

I shouldn't be telling you this, but I don't want to deceive you.

The director will be sending a letter to your parents.

A letter? Whatever for?

You're having a serious relapse, Marceau.

The lab you visit for your routine check-ups...

has sent us the results of your samples.

The samples indicate you are once again infected.

But you said I had been cured.

Yes. The pneumothorax was extremely effective.

But when it comes to tuberculosis, you can never be sure.

I must go back to the sanatorium?

I'm afraid so.

Upon your release, you registered less than 1000 BK.

But today, you must be well over 100.000!

It's a serious relapse. You must start a new treatment.

Worst of all, you could have infected your entire family.

I understand why you wouldn't let me kiss you.

How convenient for you. You can work on my case.

I'll be once again your little patient.

I'll be there with you. Every hour, every second!

- You have no right to say that! - I say what bloody well pleases me!

Even if the truth is painful to hear.

So there, goodbye!

Are we eavesdropping, now?

Good morning, Marguerite. Has the mail arrived?

- Not yet. - You said it would arrive at 8:15.

It's never on time. The concierge should be here soon.

- That must be her. - I'll get it.

Good morning, Mme Lacaze. I'm expecting a love letter.

- You're at that age! - See you.

Well, well. A letter for Olivier.

It's from America.

Nothing for me.

I am gloom, the grieving inconsolable widower.

"The Prince of Aquitaine at the forsaken tower!"

- Good morning, mother. - Heavens! Marceau the early bird.

- I hope you're not ill, at least. - Me? Ill?

Of course not, mother. I feel great!

What's with him this morning?

He must be in love, madame.

Good for him. But not a word about this to Julienne.

Get up, lazy- bones!

Even though we're on vacation, we don't get up any later.

Look. You got a big letter from America.

America?

Thank you, Marguerite. It's from David.

He must have quite a few stories to share!

There are tons of postcards!

- Skyscrapers! - And even photos.

Show me.

The mail has arrived?

Obviously, because you received your letter.

- But, Marceau? - Monsieur Marceau?

He got up and already left.

You're not going to read your letter?

- Did he get mail this morning? - No.

He was so disappointed his new sweetheart hadn't written to him.

What are you doing?

I'm depositing the 2nd mail batch, as I always do at noon.

There is a 2nd mail run?

Of course. This is Paris!

There is even a 3rd on some days.

- Nothing for us? - Yes, it's upstairs already.

Since you're going back to college I advise you to take a Balzac.

It will take you all week to read "Les Illusions perdues".

or even "La Cousine Bette".

Good morning, father.

Good morning, Marceau.

Oh, by the way...

I just received a letter that concerns you.

Really?

You know what it might be about?

No, I can't think of anything.

You know, this American friend I wrote to...?

Well, he agreed.

He would be happy to have you stay with him for as long as you wish.

I can now confirm your travel arrangements.

You will embark on the De Grâce, on the morning of December 16.

- Happy? - You bet!

Your mother and I are sad you won't spend Christmas with us.

But more important, we want you to be happy.

You'll see, Mr. DeWilde will make good company.

What does he do for a living?

He owns a few movie theaters in New York.

They call them Nickelodeons.

Ah yes, the penny cinema.

Here's one...

A letter from the sanatorium.

I have a hunch I know what it's about.

It's what I thought.

Well they've got some nerve!

What are you talking about?

They're claiming reimbursement for a window pane I broke by accident.

- Are they asking a lot? - That's not the problem, father.

It's a question of principle.

Medical services are already expensive. They should cover that.

I'll call the director immediately.

Hello, mademoiselle?

Get me number 16 at St- Pierre- Les- Bains, Haute- Loire.

Marceau Desrousseau speaking.

I'd like to speak to the director, please.

Thank you.

He'll hear me out!

I beg you, Marceau, be diplomatic.

Take the receiver.

And learn from the master.

Hello?

Mister director?

Yes: No, not very well.

My parents just received a letter from your accounting department.

Yes.

It claims reimbursement of a window pane I accidentally broke.

It was a mistake?

I'm happy to hear it.

I will let you take care of it.

Thank you, mister director.

Give my best to madame.

Goodbye.

You had gall.

Yes, you went straight to the point!

From now on, I will have you deal directly with my creditors.

With pleasure, father.

Monsieur is served.

I'm starving.

You're crazy, Marceau.

Voila.

Tell me what you think.

"Mister director,

"We have received your letter...

"concerning the state of health of our son.

"For family reasons, we have decided to place him...

"in a sanatorium close to Paris.

"As soon as we can, we will inform you of the...

"address of this establishment,

"so that you may share with them our son's medical records.

"Yours truly..." etc.

Pretty good, right?

You're out of your mind, Marceau. You can't do that.

Charlotte said it would be suicide.

Charlotte says that to keep me in the sanatorium.

As you can see, I'm in good health.

That's not true, Marceau. Even yesterday I could hear you coughing.

Excuse me. I must mail this at once.

Stand up! Stand up! Companions in misery.

- What's going on, Olivier? You couldn't sleep? - I was thinking.

If you don't inform your parents,

I will tell them you can't go to America.

I have no intention of telling them anything.

As for you, I forbid you to.

- I want you to stay out of this. - You'll be able to go back...

- Once you're back to health. - Nothing could be more uncertain.

So I would prefer being overseas.

I would rather die at the Cotton Club instead of the asylum.

You won't say a word about it to my parents. You promised.

Yes, but I didn't know just how serious this is.

Not to say the number of people you can contaminate.

I will tell them everything.

If you do, I'll tell them of your outing to Mado.

They'll send you to your grandpa's to become a blacksmith's apprentice.

You're such a bastard.

I don't give a damn!

- I don't want you to die, you understand? - I think you just want me to stay here.

You wouldn't have the balls.

Just wait and see.

- Who is it? - It's me, Olivier.

Come in.

Excuse me for disturbing you.

- What's the matter, Olivier? - Well.

I must tell you something important.

Something really serious.

Well, what is it?

It's about...

It's, hm...

I'm sorry I didn't make it to the circus on my birthday.

That's it? You scared me.

It was quickly forgotten, Olivier. I forgive you, of course.

And now, go to bed. You must get up early tomorrow.

The holidays are over. Now go on.

Yes, aunt.

Such a strange boy.

Ah! If he had Marceau's education!

If Marceau had his state of health!

What are you up to?

- I'm leaving. - So that's it.

You're going to play me like a violin, now?

Really, you're not sparing me anything.

You think I'm going to roll over like a dog? "Don't go, I'll spill the beans"

You're totally wrong.

Here, you forgot you beret.

You'll be back within the hour.

You read too much "Without Family".

You should reflect on the difference between literature and reality.

- Farewell, Marceau. - Right. See you shortly.

Wake up, Olivier. It's time!

It's 7 o'clock.

But...

What are you doing here, monsieur Marceau?

And you? Why did you wake me up?

You're in Olivier's room. Where is he?

Olivier?

- You haven't seen him? - No. Not this morning.

Yes. Of course...

He told me he had to leave to review his Latin.

I helped him till past midnight.

He was probably intent on leaving without waking me.

What are you doing here?

Well, Marceau Desrousseau. How are you?

- Very well. And you? - I'm good.

I was getting ready to call your parents.

We haven't seen your cousin Olivier, this morning.

I came to tell you he's ill.

A simple phone call would have sufficed.

I have fond memories of this place. I didn't want to miss the opportunity.

As for your cousin, I hope it's nothing serious. I could make a house call.

I was their family physician in Montmartre.

Yes of course, Montmartre.

Hey! guys!

- Hi there! - How you doin' my Olive?

- You're back in town? - Yeah, I took off. Well...

- I wanted to see you. - Capdeverre,

What do I say to the guys on L'Écuyer Street?

They should count their forts.

You're at war with them?

Of course. We should have some enemies.

We were once at peace, but everybody got confused.

Hey! Wait for me.

You're not fighting anymore with the riffraff of Bachelet St.?

The riffraff? That's ancient history!

Let's go, I'm starved. See you!

See you Capdeverre.

I'm hungry too. See you later!

See you, Loulou.

Don't you look dapper in those god awful pants!

So long. Olive. I need some grub too.

So long, Riri.

Bougras! M'sieur Bougras!

Ho! Bougras!

What are you shouting for, my boy?

Well, I'm looking for Mr. Bougras.

The old tenant? But he's gone.

- Where to? - I have no idea.

If you see him again, tell him...

he ran a pigsty in here. It reeked as hell!

What is it?

I'd like to speak to Mado, please.

She's sleeping. What's this about?

Well...

Hmm, well...

Tell her Olivier came by to say hi.

No problem, young man.

Here we are: two cold-cut plates. Bon appétit.

- Hello, Élodie. - Olivier! Fancy seeing you.

What are you doing, here?

I was in the neighbourhood.

Your timing couldn't be worse. They're in a rush and I'm under the gun.

- Jean is fine? - Not so bad.

- Did he find work? - Yes. Yes.

And how is the baby?

- Leg of lamb "Soissons". - Coming up.

- You were saying? - You're baby, how's he doing?

An apple pudding with Leg of Lamb "Soissons". Bon appétit.

The baby? He's adorable.

He's with Mrs. Hacque. She's babysitting. Go see him!

Will do, Elodie.

So long, Elodie.

Glazier!

Madame Hacque!

Olivier! Oh, Olivier.

I'm so happy to see you!

And dressed like a Prince, I see.

This is Gilbert.

He's a bit like your cousin.

Isn't he the cutest?

I often take care of him. Poor Elodie never stops.

And with Jean without a steady job,

and he likes to drink a bit.

In the end, you did well to leave.

- But I was forced to leave! - Well, you know what I mean.

You were such a hooligan!

Your aunt and uncle...

do they treat you well? Yes, madame Hacque.

In retrospect, your mother's death...

I wouldn't say it was a lucky break, far from it,

mothers are irreplaceable.

But for your future...

Often we say: a blessing in disguise.

Ah, here comes Elodie.

It's me, my little treasure!

My love, it's your mama.

I came to tell you I won't be off work until 2:30pm.

He's a real cakewalk your little cherub.

Marceau?

You take me with you to America?

No.

I brought my horn along, thinking I could draw you in.

Turns out I was right.

You gave me a hell of a scare my little angel.

Come, I patched things up for you at the college.

No. That's too easy.

You're a bastard, Marceau.

You think you can just die off like that?

Do whatever you like with your life?

Didn't you think about the others?

Your parents?

Julienne?

Me?

What will become of me if you... if you die?

Now, now. Don't worry so much. Come on.

That's enough. I won't obey you anymore.

You want me to say you're right. That you've won. Is that it?

I have given it some thought.

I decided I'll talk to my parents.

- I'll tell them everything. - I don't believe you. You're lying.

Hang on, my Doubting Thomas.

You want my passport?

With my visa?

They're yours. Without them, I can't go.

It's a trick. You'll only take them back!

What else do you need, then?

- Give it to me. - It's a trick!

I'll show you a trick.

So, little outcast?

Happy now?

Dear Olivier,

The landscape hasn't changed much in the last 6 months.

I'm sending you the same postcard because the scenery is always the same.

Boredom here has reached a new philosophical dimension.

Luckily, the pain from the pneumothorax keeps me awake.

I'm so jaded that seeing your face again would bring back my spirits.

And so, if you can, please come.

The sanatorium is near Saugués.

Find a way to get sent away to live with your grandpa.

I wait for you, my Olive, without fail. - Marceau

Thank you for coming so quickly.

I am sorry to take up your valuable time.

- It's about Olivier. - We figured as much.

Obviously, silly me.

This morning, therefore,

the supervisor found Olivier's scarf in the yard.

Yes, and what of it?

It was found at the bottom of the gardener's ladder...

which was leaning against the school wall,

ostensibly in order to jump over to the other side.

Furthermore,

in doing Olivier's bed, the chambermaid found this.

I judged it would be best to notify you before talking to Olivier.

You don't think that Olivier...

Mister director, I know him.

I can't imagine him doing such a thing.

And yet, the evidence is obvious.

I'd say a little too obvious.

Do you believe, mister director,

that a student jumping the wall would leave the ladder behind?

moreover his scarf bearing his name?

Or keeping such compromising evidence in the dormitory?

I would rather think he was the target of a prank.

A very bad schoolboy prank.

I think my husband is correct in his assessment, mister director.

Our nephew knows what fate would await him should he do such a thing.

We would send him off to his grandparents, in Auvergne.

You're probably right. I should have known better.

If one of our students was bent on tarnishing the image of your nephew,

rest assured he will be punished accordingly.

I will deal with this matter immediately.

What happened in 1685?

Delépine!

The assassination of Henri IV by Ravaillac, monsieur.

He would have been mighty, this Ravaillac,

to assassinate a king who had been dead for 75 years!

Yes, Susse!

1685, revocation of the Edict of Nantes by Louis XIV, sir.

Well done.

Now, what happened in...

Be seated, children.

I'm here to discuss a serious matter.

It would appear that one of you...

wanted to get Châteauneuf accused of jumping the wall.

His scarf was left behind in the yard as evidence...

and other objects I won't mention at this time,

were planted in his personal belongings in the dormitory.

Perhaps it was only meant as a stupid prank.

But I would summon the guilty party to come forth in this instant,

otherwise I will have to take measures against the entire class.

"A fault confessed is half redressed". Gentlemen!

I'm waiting.

Châteauneuf, you would like to speak?

Nobody played a trick on me, sir. I did jump the wall last night.

- We know it wasn't you. - I tell you it was me!

I don't want the entire class punished on my account.

- And where did you go? - To see a friend. The girlies!

- What do you mean: "the girlies"? - The streetwalkers, sir.

Olivier! I'm pulling you out of this college.

Shame on you! You're a disgrace. I don't want you living with us anymore.

You leave for Saugues. Tomorrow.

Here's our munchkin!

Saugues! Next stop: St- Préjet- d'Allier.

- Greetings, little friend! - Good morning, Victor.

At least you don't look like a hooligan!

He actually looks very sweet.

Come on, let's go.

Ho, Victor! Can't this wait?

- She's all yours, Antonin. - You're holding us up.

Adios!

Give it to me.

You will call me "Tonton".

And that girl... not a word about her to granny.

It's our custom. She's not from these parts and grandma is old school.

All right, Tonton.

You'll see. There isn't much here to lift grannie's spirits.

She's not thrilled with your arrival.

With grandpa, it's different. He just loves telling stories.

So he's happy that you're coming.

Besides, since injuring his leg,

he's been bored stiff.

Listen, I must teach you a phrase in "patois",

and you will repeat it to him. It should tickle him:

Oh, Gustou, beni fara monegue.

Say it.

Oh, Gustou, beni fara monegue.

We don't have much time for you to learn it.

We're here.

There's the "oustaou". It means house.

- Go on, say the phrase. - Oh, Gustou, beni fara monegue.

"Allo pitchou"!

- Let me give you a hug. - Good day, grandpa.

Son of a bitch!

Let me look at you.

You have your father's eyes.

Come on in!

I prepared a snack for you. You must be hungry after your trip.

Here were are.

Over here, it's not like at Victoria's.

It will be a lot different than my daughter's apartment.

There.

You'll see. We can be quite comfortable here, too.

Sit over here. We'll get you something to eat.

Here. This will be your pocket knife.

You must give a coin in return. It's the custom.

- Will this do, Tonton? - Sure.

It's not for the money. It's to preserve friendship.

You're grandma isn't here. She's picking mushrooms.

Here. You must drink some wine. It will give you strength.

And a bit of water, of course!

Well, then?

- How is it, good? - Awfully good.

- Victor, where are you? - Coming... I must get back to work.

See that door, it's your room. You can put your things.

Victor. Will you show him how to forge?

Yes, you can watch me smith iron.

And if you're not too tired, you can give me a hand.

See you later, Tonton.

I say, you look a bit pale to me.

Don't worry, here you'll soon get back your color.

Here comes grannie.

Victor didn't warn you?

She's a bit of a grouch. She doesn't like kissing very much.

Give grandma a hug, Olivier.

Hello, grannie.

Careful!

Dummy, you'll make the mushrooms tip over.

Let me see?

- We're in for a treat tonight! - No.

You'll have to wait until Sunday.

So? Are you the little scamp my daughter went crazy over?

Anyway, he's a good boy. And very polite if you can believe it.

We'll see.

Go see Victor. Observe him forging.

He's one of the best blacksmiths in the country.

Okay, grandpa.

Ah. There you are.

You're going to give me a hand.

Give a little tug on the bellows. Pull on the chain.

- This one? - Yes, it will stir the fire.

In 2 months, you'll have man's muscles!

- He's Pierre's son? - Yes. Pierre and Virginie's.

Poor lad. Such a tragedy.

You can say that again.

You can stop now, Olivier.

You should tour the stable and say hi to the cows.

You'll find 3. They're kind.

There's Dourade, the most assured. Then, La Marcade,

and finally, Poumérade, the one with the spots.

- Where is the stable? - In the back. You can go.

Hello cows!

How are you?

You must be La Poumérade.

And you, La Marcade.

And you are La Dourade.

How are you, Poumérade?

Let me introduce myself. I'm Olivier.

Normally I live in Montmartre.

I never saw a cow before. Horses yes, but not cows.

Olivier!

Olivier!

What are you doing here?

Get out of here, you hear me?

She never forgave him for trying to kill your father.

I know.

Come on.

He knows what to expect, now.

If that bandit ever comes near the farm again.

What is the sense of adding misery to misery?

Come on, now. He provoked me, right?

I didn't start anything.

- We must understand him. - Understand him!

If you can understand a criminal, you can understand me as well.

If he ever comes close to the lad he knows what to expect.

I thought your god was the god of forgiveness.

Unbeliever! Leave my god alone!

I'm taking the animals to the fields.

Make sure the boy doesn't leave the farm unaccompanied.

Why not? He's not in prison, here.

You read what Victoria wrote in her letter:

you must never leave that little scoundrel out of your sight!

You'd think Victoria makes the rules in my home!

Could you please call "pitchou"?

Olivier! Go see your grandfather.

- You called for me, grandpa? - Yes. Come closer, my pitchou.

- Would you read me the newspaper? - Sure thing.

Right, read me that article.

"The Nazi party stated that the Germans have rallied in great numbers...

"to the call by Adolf Hitler..."

Hitler! Adolf Hitler.

"by Adolf Hitler to burn all books deemed subversive...

"and decadent in the public square.

"Several million books were reduced to ashes on the morning of May 5."

You see, Olivier,

when the world's train leaves its tracks, no one knows where it will stop.

Why would anyone want to burn books? They bring no harm.

They don't want people to think!

They're being groomed to be like machines.

But tell me, you read very well,

how can you be doing so poorly in class,

at least according to your aunt Victoria?

- I don't know, grandpa. - You don't know...

Furthermore, it seems you sneak out of the college at night.

You're a real Escoulas!

In our family we always had rebels.

Look at me: I'm the only Red in this country of Whites!

Say, grandpa?

Yes?

The sanatorium where Marceau is staying, it's in this region, right?

I say, you go straight to the point.

You've been here less than a day and already you want to go to the sanatorium.

Tell me, did you come here to see Marceau?

- Yes, grandpa. - It's good to tell the truth.

But...

Victoria was very clear that under no circumstance...

you were to go to the sanatorium.

But why would she object?

She must have her reasons.

You see, we're alike.

You think so?

And why is that?

Because I want to see Marceau too!

I really miss my grandson.

He grew up here.

Always running after girls in the hills,

and fishing for trout or crayfish.

We had some great times, him and me.

But now, it only hurts to know he's there.

The doctor told me I couldn't go, that I could catch his illness.

But mark my words:

we're going to see him together!

- Really? - As real as I am an Escoulas.

I looked at the map, it's about 50 km.

We're not going to take the road.

We'll go by the mountain.

The mountain trails will save us at least 10 km.

We'll take a horse and buggy,

and I'll tell them I'm taking you to the animal fair in Langeac.

Will they let us go?

They'll say I'm crazy. But I'm head of this family.

- I can do what I want, right? - Yes, grandpa!

Hold on. Don't get your spirits too high.

I need to know if you can keep a secret.

With Victor and grannie, you have to act a bit,

show them you're not really thrilled about coming with me.

- Right. - Good.

We shouldn't arouse their suspicions.

We'll leave Sunday at dawn.

But until then...

I'm wondering if I might have been too optimistic.

It will take us 6 hours to get there.

That means we won't arrive before nightfall.

They'll figure out we didn't go to Langeac.

So what?

Once I've seen Marceau, they can think what they want. I don't care.

At least we're lucky, the weather's on our side.

For the time being, yes.

Hopefully we won't get caught in the storm before we reach the pass.

Let's go, Nono. Let's go!

That's it, grandpa!

- I gave him some oats. - That's good.

- Here. I prepared this for you. - Thank you.

Let's have a little feast!

Some ham, bread and wine. That's my Holy Trinity.

You see, whatever Victoria might think,

I wouldn't trade a single tree from these mountains...

for all the lights in Paris.

Say, grandpa? Why doesn't grannie like being kissed?

You must understand her.

She lost 2 children.

That made her a little colder.

If you had known her when she was in her 20s,

She was beautiful.

A real eye-popper.

You know, for our marriage,

we undertook the white stick ceremony.

The white stick ceremony? What's that?

If the fiancee placed a broom on its flip-side against her door,

it meant she didn't want you.

- That is so funny. - You think so?

Damn it! I didn't sleep all night.

But the next morning,

grannie had turned all the brooms on the farm on the right side.

And even the filthy ones.

If only she could hear me!

At the time, she just loved clinging to my arm as we danced.

What are you wishing for, young mountaineer?

What did you hope to acquire if you are unwilling to dance?

Qué volio cerca, jovo de la montagna?

Que volio cerca, Si volio pas danser?

If you didn't want to dance, you should not have come. Aïe!

Grandpa!

- I tripped, Olivier. - Come, come.

Come, it's nothing.

It's nothing. Just give me a hand.

It's nothing. Serves me right for playing the young man.

There.

I'm breathing better and I'll be alright. We still have... 2 km uphill.

The road will be easier after that.

Grandpa, look. There is someone at the pass.

We'll say hi to him!

And what if it's m'sieur Privat?

We'll say hi anyway.

- But he tried to kill my parents! - So what?

You don't fire a gun at people without a reason.

Have you ever asked yourself why he did that?

Grandpa! It's Uncle Victor.

That's a different matter.

Victor! What a surprise!

You take me for an imbecile?

- How so? - You think I don't see through this?

You'll never get to the sanatorium before nightfall. It's madness.

What do you mean? Is it madness to want to see my grandson?

- You're the one that's crazy! - I might be crazy...

but you're turning around and I come with you.

And you, Olivier, don't try that again or I'll bust your ass.

And not a word to your grandma, she'll gouge your eyes out.

Now...

I bought a 6 lb ham at Fayet's.

You will say you brought it back from Langeac.

Let's go.

That's good, Olivier. You're making progress.

You see, the word solitude, it only takes one "l" .

Because it's all alone, you see!

You didn't conjugate correctly the past tense of the verb "shoot".

You wrote "shooted". It should be "shot". Tell me why!

Because it's an exception. It's an irregular verb.

Then why couldn't you get that right?

I forgot.

On top of that you misspelled the proper name of the bandit. But...

It's fine.

If you work hard, you'll soon become an ace.

But... when you go back to school,

you'll have to go back to Paris.

- But, grandpa... - It's sad to say,

but nowadays, the future of youth lies within the cities.

It breaks my heart to say it because, as you know,

I would love it if you could stay here with me.

I would love to stay here with you too.

Don't be silly!

After a few months, you'd get bored.

No. I'm happy, here.

I'm happy like...

- Like... - Like with your mother?

So much the better.

You see, Victor is out riding.

You should join your grannie out in the fields.

Today, she's at Devil's Abyss. You know where that is?

Yes. What will grannie say?

You'll soon find out.

Don't forget to greet the folks you encounter.

Here people talk to each other.

"Parlez-moi d'amour

"Redites-moi des choses tendres

"Votre beau discours...

"Mon coeur n'est pas las de l'entendre

Hello, Olivier.

M'sieur Privat!

I know we can't be seen together, but I need to talk to you.

- May I accompany you? - No!

You're a liar. Besides, you wanted to kill my parents!

You said my father was your friend and that my mother loved you!

But you fired a gun at them. That's why you went to jail!

It's your aunt who told you that? Let me tell you what happened.

I don't want to hear it. Leave me alone!

Good day, grannie!

What are you up to, Olivier?

Grandpa said I could come see you.

You came directly? You didn't loiter on your way?

No, I swear it, grannie.

- Did you meet anyone on the way? - No.

Actually, yes. I saw Louison Flandin.

He asked me to go to a soccer game with him.

- I told him I was coming to see you. - Very well, then.

Good. Well, I'm off to see the cows.

What are you doing?

- I'm giving them some sugar. - But they don't like sugar!

You can tell you're from Paris!

Cows don't care for sugar. They like salt!

Give the sugar to the dog. It's not good for his eyes,

but over here, we don't let anything go to waste.

Here, doggy, come boy.

Good, huh? That's good.

- Grannie? - Yes?

- Don't you have a watch? - No.

How can you tell when it's time to go back to the farm, then?

Look at the shadow cast by the shed.

When it reaches the boulder, it's time to bring the cows home.

Looks like you have a heat stroke. Go freshen up at the river.

- The river looks pretty deep. - Well of course it's deep!

That's why we nicknamed her Devil's Abyss.

- "Devil's Abyss"? - A long time ago,

there was a man who bragged about not believing in either God or Devil.

Well, the poor bastard got his punishment. The river swallowed him.

- Really? - Obviously!

He made a point to come and work here on the Lord's Day.

One stormy day, as he was driving his cart along the banks,

he surely came too close to the precipice.

Then the two hands of the Devil lunged from the river,

his long claws grasped him fiercely so he couldn't move,

and down he went to the bottom with his two horses!

- That's not true. It's a legend. - You're like your grandfather.

You're stubborn. And a unbeliever.

Climb up on the rock...

and bend over the precipice.

You'll see the remains of the cart at the bottom!

- See it? - Not sure. The water isn't clear.

Look again!

Ah yes! I see it.

I see the cart with bones and a skeleton!

I can even see the skull!

Did you notice, grannie? The shadow has set on the boulder.

It's time to go back.

Well done, you're a fast learner.

Soon, you'll be able to lead the cows to the pasture all by yourself.

If you like.

Here. Take my stick and lead them toward the trail.

Go on! We'll see how well you do.

Come on cows! Let's go.

Where are you going, Poumérade?

It's pretty obvious you pealed chunks off her hoof.

I'll even bet you sprinkled pepper in her arse.

Ho, l'Escoulas! I'm not selling her to you.

(Speaking Patois)

Patois with a Parisian accent. Very comical.

He's making progress in this area too!

- You have an accent as well. - Olivier!

It's great that you can now smith, but you can't neglect your studies.

Wait! We're not done yet.

An automobile!

Don't be alarmed. Finish your work, Olivier.

You can say hi to my sister just now.

She did well for herself, our Victoria.

That's for sure.

She went to Paris and Paris went to her head.

She's ashamed of us.

She avoids telling her friends that we are blacksmiths.

Instead, she says we're ironwork artists.

I think being a blacksmith is a more noble trade.

You plan to stay with us?

No, no. I came in like the wind, just to drop off Julienne.

I thought you dropped in to say hi.

That too, of course.

My God; this heat!

Tell me,

Marceau, my grandson. How's he doing?

His condition is stable the doctors tell me.

But they may have to perform a thoraco.

- What's that? - A thoracoplasty.

It's an operation consisting of compressing the diseased lung by removing some ribs.

- In his case, 6. - That's terrible!

- Are you going back? - No.

He's asked us to leave. He doesn't want to see anyone.

One-eyed bitch!

I would give both my legs if it could bring him back to health.

Children should not have to suffer.

And how is your leg doing?

A bit of pain, that's all.

The real burden is inaction. Lucky for me, I have Olivier.

- He seems well acclimatised. - Yes.

He's very happy, here.

But you must take him back to Paris.

Oh no. That's out of the question!

Victoria!

I am your father. This is my home. I'm in charge.

And you'll listen to me, for God's sake!

I worked with him almost every day.

He's a very bright boy. He's inquisitive, devours books.

With a bit of help, he'll become someone.

He must be allowed to further his studies.

You have no right to condemn him to ignorance. Voila!

Sometimes I wonder if perhaps I wasn't too hard on him.

Well, speak of the devil.

- Good day, aunt. - Good day, Olivier

- I am happy to see you again. - Likewise, aunt.

Your grandfather tells me you like it here.

Yes, aunt.

You know what would make him happy?

- Going up to see Marceau. - That won't happen.

He wants to see me.

It's true! Show her the letter.

Your aunt was clear: he doesn't want to see anyone.

He's was cruel toward me, this morning.

- I'm sure he'll want to see me. - Listen,

Victoria, it would do Marceau a lot of good!

Well.

If you're ready in 5 minutes, I'll drop you off at the sanatorium.

You'll have to find your own way back. There is an evening coach.

- Thank you, aunt. - Remember: 5 minutes!

- I'll be ready. - Hey! Olivier,

before you go, drink a bit of wine and chew on some garlic.

It will give you strength. And repel evil.

You look pretty healthy.

Guillaume, please! Stop the car at the next curve.

What is the matter, aunt?

Marceau is lost, Olivier.

The doctors will attempt an operation but gave me little hope.

You must not tell anyone. Do you understand?

- I shouldn't tell you this. - I swear, aunt.

Ah! My God.

It's not fair!

He suffers immensely. You'll see, he's changed.

But he mustn't find out. Anyway, who knows.

Perhaps there is still a chance.

I'm sure of it, my aunt.

I'm sure of it.

I'm sure of it.

Goodbye, aunt. Are you sure you don't want to come?

I don't have the courage.

After the operation, yes.

He's inside that building.

Room 18. Second floor.

You'll have to sneak in, children are not allowed.

Don't worry.

Thank you, aunt.

What are you doing here?

I'm looking for Marceau Desrousseau.

I know you. You're his cousin.

You can't stay here. He's not in his room.

He's outside, in the solarium.

- Go on! - Thanks.

Ah, Marceau!

- Hello, how are you? - It's you, my little outcast.

I knew you would come.

- How did you get here? - Your mother brought me.

You see, the Divine isn't that bad.

Have a seat.

By the way, bravo for the stunt you pulled at the college.

Your letter cracked me up. A work of art!

How are you feeling?

I hope you didn't come for a medical report.

It boils down to one word: irrecoverable.

That's not true. After your operation, things will improve.

That's right...

Hope that everything will go well after losing half your ribs!

I must admit, I'm a little pessimistic.

You see, Olivier. At times, you disappoint me.

I would have preferred dying in New York.

Or on the bridge of a transatlantic. Much better than here, don't you think?

Olivier, I beg you. Don't start that.

You remember...?

The concert by Louis Armstrong?

And your fugue to Mado's?

We share so many memories you and I.

We do indeed!

Grandpa embraces you warmly.

Tell him I'm doing well. How is he?

His leg still hurts.

You know, we almost succeeded to come see you.

- We were forced to turn back, though. - Darn Escoulas, hasn't changed a bit.

Well, here comes my guardian angel.

As you can see, I have nothing to complain about.

I was rude with Julienne this morning.

I would like you to watch over her.

Extend her the love I was incapable of giving her.

Okay?

- Do you promise? - I promise, Marceau.

Alright, time to go.

And please...

- Don't come back to see me. - Why?

- Please. - You can't stay, Olivier.

I told you already. Children are not allowed.

Don't be angry with him. He's in terrible pain.

We couldn't have Julienne sleep in the attic, you understand.

You'll see, you'll like it up here.

This is the best mattress ever.

So put your mind at rest.

Ah! Have you seen these old books?

"Le Tour de la France by two children".

- Is it good? - Of course it's good.

With that I learned to read to my wife.

- May I open it? - Of course!

Look at this beautiful medal.

The War Cross. It was your father's.

With palms.

And what's this?

An orange peel. Belongs to my daughter.

- Aunt Victoria? - Yes.

Long ago, with only an orange, you could celebrate Christmas Eve.

Oh yes!

Back then, we didn't have the luxury of going...

to the hospital in a carriage. Life was really harsh...

and money was hard to come by. We would fight over it.

Have you seen this funny boot?

All bloated and with an enormous sole.

That shoe belonged to your dad.

You see,

we send boys to their death before they can experience life.

Your poor father.

When he came back to this country, after he was injured,

I didn't recognize him.

All I could say was: "There you are".

He wept.

He walked between two crutches,

still bore shrapnel in his skin,

his lungs burnt by the gas.

To think he was once as swift as a squirrel,

only to stagger into a cloud.

"Where are you, my Pierrou?", grannie would ask him.

He would raise his eyes, as if to prepare an answer,

but he said nothing.

Your mother restored his taste for life.

Just enough time to make a little darling.

And now he's gone.

Julienne?

I can't sleep.

Marceau is always on my mind.

I love him so much, you know.

It is so unfair.

We were planning on getting married.

I would do anything for him to be cured.

Don't worry.

Soon, he'll be well again.

He told me that even if he was to recover, he would no longer marry me.

He said that only because he doesn't want to leave you with any regrets.

- You think so? - I'm sure.

This illness has really changed him.

Besides, there's this other girl, the nurse.

Don't cry, Julienne. Don't.

You know, he doesn't really care about Charlotte.

- I don't know. I don't know anymore. - It's true! He told me.

Don't worry.

Kiss me.

Kiss me, Olivier.

Not like that, you idiot. On the lips.

Marceau!

Marceau!

- Good morning. - Good morning.

- Sleep well? - Not really, no.

I think I'll go back to Paris.

I thought you were going to stay here a few days.

I'm too close to Marceau, here.

Victor?

Would you mind taking me to the station?

I'm really busy with work, you know.

Olivier could take you. He can steer a buggy.

You must not loiter on the way.

You will come home right after.

- You know, I can go by myself. - No.

A young girl should never travel alone.

He's right.

By the way,

the other day in Langeac, I saw a used wireless.

- For a good price. - No music in my house!

Why not?

- A bit of music, here and there. - No, no.

Novelties are bearers of misfortune.

It seems you like to dwell in it.

You don't want water springing from a pipe, so you carry a bucket.

You don't want music that could uplift our spirits.

You can't live in the past or among the dead forever, mother.

I can live with mine, thank you.

Line 24, arriving from Puy-en-Velay,

en route to Paris via Clermont-Ferrand,

Immediate departure, platform 1.

Here. Put it there. It's not taken.

This is great. You can relax all the way to Clermont-Ferrand.

It was sweet of you to accompany me, Olivier.

We'll meet again in Paris, some day?

Victor was right, it's a pity you are leaving.

- We were happy together. - You're a sweetie.

- Marceau asked me to watch over you. - And you've succeeded nicely.

Are you crazy, you little pervert!

- What's the matter? The other night... - Quiet!

Warm-blooded, just like your mother.

- You have no right to say that! - Oh yeah?

How do you call a woman who had lovers?

None of your business. She did as she pleased.

Victoria said your mother was a small-time goddess.

It's not her fault if Privat tried to shoot her.

Not her fault? Well there's a good one!

Why do you say that?

My poor Olivier!

If you only knew what your mother did to Privat.

What did she do to him?

- Tell me, Julienne! - I can't tell you.

Attention, now departing.

Go and see Privat.

He lives on a big estate called Les Bruyères.

He'll tell you what really happened.

Forgive me, Olivier.

We'll meet again. Later.

Faster, Nono!

Giddy-up!

Come on, faster!

Giddy-up!

Giddy-up!

Hue, Nono! Hue!

Move on, Nono!

Easy, easy, Nono.

Whoa!

What do you want, young man?

I'd like to speak to Mr. Privat. It's very important.

Yes, I see.

He shouldn't be long. You can wait in the living room. Follow me.

It's your mother, Olivier.

A friend of mine made that bust.

She was about to turn 18.

I'm glad you came. I thought you wouldn't want to see me again.

I didn't come for you. I need to know something.

- It's very important. - I'm listening.

Why did you want to kill my parents. What did they do to you?

I was your...

your mother's first husband.

My mother's first husband?

Your mother couldn't bring herself to tell you she was divorced.

She didn't want you troubled by that.

We got married before the war.

We were living together and then I was called to the front.

At the same time your father was.

We were childhood friends, all three of us.

When he got injured, in October of 1914, and was released from duty,

your mother took care of him.

I thought they met when father came back wounded from the war?

No. No.

But your mother was indeed his nurse.

Months and years went by.

Then one day, I received a disheartening letter... from your mother.

She was leaving for Paris, with your father.

- It's not true. You're lying! - No.

You'll be the only one to know the truth.

A truth I have never revealed. To anyone.

Upon reading the letter, I was shattered,

forlorn.

I almost went out of my mind. I wanted to find your mother.

In the spring of 1917, during General Nivell's offensives,

I had volunteered to perform inspections on a fort we had retaken.

I picked up a grenade,

unpinned it, then I pushed my arm through a gun slit,

and held it until my arm blew off.

That's how I became a war hero.

Weeks later, I left the hospital and headed for Paris.

With the intent of killing your parents,

and turning the gun on myself.

There it is.

Olivier!

- I hope you'll forgive me. - My parents would never have done that!

It's not their fault, Olivier. It's the war that created this mess.

This can't be true.

I will never forgive them! They're no longer my mother nor my father!

You have no right to judge them! No right.

You'll understand this later on. It is possible to love...

and then no longer love. We're not masters... - Shut up!

Olivier!

Move on, Nono! Move on!

Giddy-up!

Giddy-up!

Giddy-up! Giddy-up!

Olivier!

Charlotte? What's going on? It's Marceau?

Marceau? No. Don't worry.

He's over there, in the car.

How is he?

They wouldn't let him go out, but he persuaded the director.

He wanted to see you.

They will operate tomorrow.

You'll see. He's weakened, but keeps in good spirits.

So, my little outcast?

- You're now a shepherd? - You're crazy, Marceau.

You should be resting!

But I am resting, here.

Don't say anything to your grandpa?

Let him cherish the image of a young man in perfect health,

rather than one of deterioration.

Besides, I came for you.

I got your letter.

I needed to talk to you..

- You didn't have to come. - I know that.

I wanted to ask you something.

What is it?

You must forgive your parents, Olivier.

Do not judge them, as I often did with mine.

Since I've been living with death, I find these judgments so ludicrous.

Your parents loved each other and you want to hold that against them?

No.

- But look at what they did to Mr. Privat! - It's all the same.

The love they had for each other...

and the wrong they did are 2 sides of the same medal.

You cannot split them apart.

Do you understand?

Remember, Olivier.

One day,

you said that my life and death wouldn't have meaning just for me.

So now, I want you to trust me.

It's the last time...

You're crazy, Marceau! We'll see each other after the operation!

Don't be silly.

Do what I say.

Promised?

I know you're going back to school in Paris.

But before you go, I want you to visit your parents' grave.

And tell them that you love them.

How can I tell them?

If you put your heart into it, they'll hear you.

Really?

Yes.

I have a book on the language of flowers.

I'll offer them a rose. A red rose.

It's a symbol of love. Crazy love.

Bravo.

You see, when you want to.

Now, now.

Don't start that again.

We'll see each other again!

We'll travel to America.

We'll go cheer Louis Armstrong at the Cotton Club.

We'll have a great time!

- What do you say, my Olive? - Let's do it!

Courage, my little urchin!

You old fart!

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