Original subtitles

If only one didn't have to have a nose.

Or a chin.

Or knees.

It's back to school.

I'm pretty ugly.

I should live in a box, at the top back of the closet.

They'd take me out every year for Halloween

and place me on the TV.

MISS IMPOSSIBLE

Aurore!

Aurore!

Ready?

Based on Le Journal d'Aurore by Marie Desplechin

When you're held back, you know it's going to suck.

I'm not feeling it.

You're a psychic now?

Why wouldn't I be? You have hair.

Fill in

all the information. If you have a question, just ask.

This is class 7A. Leave

the boxes at the top empty.

That's for me.

Miss, aren't you pregnant?

Is that a proper question to ask?

Raise your hand and consider

if your question is useful.

Let's not spend all day on this.

- You don't like my form? - Not really.

I'm not keeping you.

So do I leave or not?

Yes, get out.

Go to the principal's office, get a note.

Let's go.

Quiet, everyone.

There.

Goodbye.

Get out your books.

On the first day!

You can also go with Aurore.

Aurore.

Let's not do this again.

No, ma'am. What should we do?

Why not try and work?

- I do work. - No.

- Fine, but I can't. - Everyone can.

Or you'll be stuck here.

Think about your future. Get help.

Ask Sophie. I hear she's brilliant.

- Sophie is your sister. - No.

Yes, she's your sister.

It's not the same.

She was sick as a child.

Sick?

Very sick.

A kind of...

A nervous shock.

She was adopted,

as a child.

It's hard on me.

I've had it with you, Aurore.

Teachers: you never know what answer

they expect.

They don't care what you really think.

There she is.

That's Sophie.

The eldest is Jessica.

She thinks she's a big shot with her degree.

- Can you put channel 4? - Quiet!

I'm working!

You're smart enough.

- I'll tell mom. - Go ahead.

You've been at it for hours.

Mom! I can't focus on my work!

- Quiet! I need to concentrate! - On what?

I'm eating out.

- Aurore, turn the volume down. - Sure.

And where are you going exactly?

Watch out, you rat!

She is a rat.

Girls, enough!

When your dad gets home...

- Is dad at work? - I told you.

Bye.

Aurore, come help me.

It's always me.

You're the one who...

Who needs to learn to help.

Put that in the fridge.

Come on.

Do it right.

Take the gratin out to make room.

- What is it? - Nothing.

A gratin. I wonder what we did wrong.

Find yourself a new home.

- Sure. Where? - Boarding school.

They serve gratin every day.

It's not funny.

- It's kind of funny. - No.

- But it's expensive. - No money, no school.

Glad we're poor?

Unbelievable! What's with you?

What did we do to you?

She's a pain. Born that way.

And uptight too.

Because I don't like gratin?

What's wrong? Does it hurt?

- I threw out my back. - How?

Opening a door.

Come do the payroll with me.

- Hey. - Hey.

Marceau is Lola's father's fiancée's son.

I dated him. Then Lola dated him.

Now, who knows who he's dating?

How do you feel? Not too scared of being alone?

What do you mean?

In 7th grade.

We'll see you less.

Why? Are you stupid or what?

Everyone should be held back. I feel at home.

No stress.

Anyway...

I'm here for you. If you want to go out again...

Why? It was hard enough liking you every day.

Exactly. We won't be together as often now.

In 1337 began the Hundred Years War.

In 1415 was the Azincourt debacle.

War broke out between Armagnac and Burgundy.

In 1429, Joan of Arc followed Charles VII to Chinon.

She was burned at the stake by the English.

Again.

In 1337 began the Hundred Years War.

The French defeat of Crécy was in 1346,

followed by that of Poitiers.

Let's focus

on Latin declensions.

Have it done by the end of the week.

Hand me a Carambar.

Perfect.

You're a real sumo!

History class

Can we go to your place?

Come on, Samira. Come on!

Who cares?

Hello, Stéphane. Hello, Kamila.

Samira's main quality is her café.

Her flaw is her brothers.

She thinks we hang out to flirt with them.

She's not that wrong.

- Come on! - Me too!

Yes, you too.

Who has a serum

For regeneration

He is born the divine Christ child

It's scary how I can be outgoing at times.

I don't know why.

The shy girl who goes nuts and starts to sing.

It's awful.

Come on. I see you. Come in.

Come in. Hello.

Hello. Sit down.

Due to the pregnancy epidemic, we have a sub.

- Hello. - Settle down.

Let's introduce ourselves quickly.

The hoodie.

- Me? - Yes.

Don't take out your notebooks.

Put your bags on the floor.

No one else?

Making a prank? OK.

Let's go.

Well, hello.

Hello.

My name is Sébastien Buns.

There.

It's funny at first. I laughed too.

But I got over it.

I'll use your surnames.

Why? Because I want to respect you and not treat you

like little babies.

Could you sit up, miss?

Let me explain how I'll be grading you.

You all get 10/20 as a start.

"Wow! Incredible. Thank you so much."

To introduce this new system,

we will be reading a book.

Mr. Buns is ambitious.

We'll start with the indefinable...

No way he'll be pregnant.

What does "indefinable" mean?

Not definabled.

Not "definabled". "Definabled" is not a word.

"To definable."

That which can't be defined.

Indefinable,

indescribable...

No? The canonical...

Princess of Cleves.

The bad news is he's crazy.

He doesn't know me.

No record, back to square one.

Samira!

What is she doing?

- It's her brother. - Yes.

Aurore.

- Areski wants to see you. - What for?

What do I know?

What'd he say?

"Can you call Aurore?"

Hey. How are you?

Fine.

Remember how you sang at the café?

Well, the mike was plugged in!

Did I do something wrong, or are you always so nasty?

It depends.

It's weird. What does he want?

I play in a band with some friends. We need a singer.

And so,

I thought of you.

Me?

Yes, you. Who else is here?

But why?

You looked fun.

Can I think about it?

Not too long.

- Right. I thought about it. - And?

- I can't do it. - Why not?

- Your sister. - What?

- Your sister. - Samira?

What does she have to do with it?

She won't let us to date you.

She was my friend first,

and I don't have that many.

I don't want to end up alone.

Don't worry about her, I'll explain.

- Don't say it was me. - No.

OK.

No, I can't.

Too bad. Bye.

Bye.

- No kiss? - No. I have a skin infection

and allergies.

Bye.

What will you do now?

Find someone else.

Of course.

He's flirting.

- Don't even say it. - What did we do wrong?

Remember if her other brothers are hot?

I can't answer.

Sometimes I feel I still like Marceau.

- Your dad's fiancée's son? - Don't say it.

It's almost illegal. It won't work.

Did he ask you to date him again?

Yes, but I said no.

I liked him, but I got bored.

He's not boring.

Maybe you're frigid.

Like on that TV show?

- On abused kids. - Did you watch?

It was great.

Were you abused as a kid?

Who knows?

Where's the gizzard?

He forgot the gizzard.

Aurore, don't play with your food.

Do I eat it?

What's going on in French class?

Princess of Cleves.

Why is it always Princess of Cleves ?

- It's school. - So?

I read it too, in the day.

- Really? - Did you read it?

- I don't know. - I did.

Miss Perfect.

It's not my fault.

Do you want any help?

- I'm fine, mom. - Just asking.

Let's eat.

Sophie. And then, mom.

A leg, as usual?

- Say please. - Please.

- Mom. Breast? Leg? Wing? - No.

Breast and wing. Eat up.

Do you know I was abused as a child?

I need to know exactly when and by whom.

Or I'll stay frigid all my life.

What does it mean?

If it's a joke, it's not funny.

- Or do we call the police? - It's a bit much.

Did Lola say this?

I'm just saying.

Getting worked up over a teeny observation,

it's hysterical.

"I just got new sneakers. But do they go with everything?

"Safia, 14 years old."

The way she treats you! That's all you have to say?

Maybe she'd work.

At least we wouldn't see her sulking all day.

Some kids like boarding school.

We can't do that.

It's not the gulag.

She'd stay a year.

We'll enroll her after the holidays.

I don't know.

Maybe it's a good idea. I don't know.

Stop worrying. It'll get better.

I can't stop worrying if it won't get better.

Tomorrow, I'll take her out into the forest.

Don't worry, she'll find her little rocks.

That's just it. She'll come back.

We can't leave any rocks.

There's always

the ogre.

She's uneatable.

Our child is uneatable.

Really... An ogre.

"Honey, I'm calling the ogre."

Very funny.

It's scary, for parents.

Some people shouldn't be allowed to have kids.

An ogre... Really.

They want to get rid of me.

I have no future.

- I'm homeless. - No, you're not.

I'm homeless and jobless.

You could run away.

They'd calm down.

They want to kick you out? Take action.

Come at my place. We're friends.

That's not running away.

They'd know where I am.

I'll never let you down. Did I give up

- on your hair? - No. True.

You can't call it a big success so far.

Not really.

- Aurore, come sit down. - I have homework.

Come sit down.

What's with your hair?

You realize what you said at dinner...

Please listen.

It's either a provocation,

and it's your last,

or it's something else. I have to know.

- I can't talk to you about it. - And your mother?

No.

Stop moving around.

Your mother and I think

that you're not happy here with us.

A boarding school seems like a good solution.

So you'll be rid of me.

- What? - Of course.

Abandon me, it's easier.

Nonsense.

I know what I'm saying. I should just kill myself.

I'll just commit suicide.

That way you'll be happy. You'll save some money.

Aurore.

Stop with the bullshit. I've had enough.

Stop moving around.

Is that it? Are you done?

No.

No. Start by cleaning up

your mess.

It's always me. What will you do

- when I'm gone? - Don't mess with me.

Stop moving around!

Stop it!

So now my dad hates me too. It's sad.

To my sort of family

And the letter?

What did you ask for?

- A new cellphone. - Are you stupid?

It was for the boarding school.

I can write what I want.

You try to run away, if you care.

I ran away for the shortest time in history.

There. It's here.

Is this a joke?

I can't stay here.

Are you joking?

No.

After all I did?

Spend two days here? You're nuts.

Shit! Go to hell!

Guess what?

You're a bad person who'll end up alone.

I'll make better friends in boarding school!

A master fox, by the odor drawn, spoke unto him this way:

"Good day, Lord Crow!

"How well you look How handsome you grow

"I do say,

"if your note matches your coat, you are the phoenix

"of these woods."

At these words the crow exceedingly rejoices...

Nawen, don't put your pen in your nose.

I can't even give you aspirin.

Talk about pulling a cap out of your nose.

So, on Princess of Cleves, I'll call on...

Heads bowed.

Miss... Aurore.

Poor her.

Poor her.

What did I do?

I don't know. You tell me.

What should I say?

I invite you

to sum up the story for the class.

Stand up.

Stand up.

Speak distinctly.

I'm all hears.

It's obvious it's a made-up story.

I agree.

At 16, the princess is marrying an old man.

No one does that, except in India

or some remote countries.

Then she falls in love some guy her type:

super hot and rich,

madly in love with her.

The perfect guy. Sure.

Prince Charming, like in Snow White.

She doesn't want him. She's totally delusional.

I don't know.

And then...

I don't know.

Who does she ask for advice

on what to do?

Her mother! It's absurd.

Who does that?

Please.

Her mom turns her down. She tells her boyfriend:

"My mom disagrees, so talk about my husband!"

It's stupid.

They're miserable as sin because of a stupid mother,

and everyone dies.

It's a bottomless mess.

No one can believe such a story.

All right, all right.

But it is a novel.

At least, I can be sure you didn't get

your ideas off the Internet.

I'm happy about that.

Now...

Now... it's a personal opinion.

Like you wanted.

It's what you asked for.

Did you write what you said?

More or less.

"More or less."

Why don't you write a little more, on paper?

OK?

Given what I've heard, you have the weekend

to write a personal opinion. Bye.

Congratulations, Aurore.

Try to rewrite what you said.

Focus more on the literary analysis.

From what I hear, some elements are missing.

Why? Was it bad?

No, it was good.

Or rather...

It might make me think you skimmed through the book.

It'd be a shame.

Because you did read it through.

Look at me.

OK?

A smile?

- OK, go. - Bye.

Bye.

I wasn't speaking with Lola.

She was right,

I had been disrespectful.

It's for Monday?

- Do you need help? - I'd get even worse grades.

It's French class...

It's not the same as before.

You wouldn't know.

How are things at home?

- You know. - Honey.

I get it.

Sophie is smart and mom likes her.

Jessica has a boyfriend, she's Jessica.

There's nothing going on with me.

I suck.

Not to me. I think you're wonderful.

You want to make me cry?

Come on, stop it.

Why did you say that, last Sunday at dinner?

Because I'm frigid.

I saw you!

I saw him!

OK? Over there.

Frigid?

How so?

Frigid... In what way?

Yes. When I was going out with Marceau,

I was bored. Kissing, holding hands...

That's not it.

- I'd like to know why. - It wasn't the right boy.

It means I'm a lesbian.

No. It means...

No. Because... No.

- It's like your mother. - What about her?

Before your father,

the number of boys who came through this house...

- For real? - Yes.

How many?

Hold on.

There was that loser.

Yes.

The whole group.

I don't know. At least 45, plus those I didn't meet.

- That's impossible. - No.

- Did you see her tattoos? - Mom?

- Where? - All over.

No.

Bullshit.

What's the minimum, for the right one?

It depends.

There's no rule.

1, 2, 3, 5, 6... Watch my little chicks.

7, 8, 9, they fall in line. 10, 11, 12, up on the shelves.

Lonely young girl, probably a lesbian,

looking for boy to number him.

Number 1: Marceau. Number 2: Areski.

Wait, didn't you have allergies, or some skin infection?

I'm cured.

Good, you're early.

Yes, but don't get worked up. I'm not flirting with you.

- I hope not. - Why not?

- Am I too ugly? - That's not it.

It's just that girls aren't really my thing.

Oh, so you're...

- I mean, you mean... - Yes.

Here.

Guys.

David plays bass and keyboard.

- Tom plays the drums. - Hey.

Aurore changed her mind.

No, I didn't.

I just wanted to try.

What's up?

Ready?

Yes.

Sing in "yoghurt".

- What? - In "yoghurt".

Like your mouth is full.

Imagine. Basically, you're not saying the actual lyrics.

Why would I be eating yoghurt?

It's just to hear your voice.

Can we go?

Come on.

One, two.

One, two, three.

Go on.

Areski.

It's maybe too low for you.

Try singing one octave higher.

Again.

Are you OK?

Don't worry. You're doing fine.

Ready?

Areski.

I think it's a little too high.

Go one tone or halftone lower.

Keep the high pitch, just a little lower. OK?

- Ready? - Go ahead.

Three boys and just one girl. Isn't it a miracle?

The drummer is cute. Very cute.

Maybe none of them date girls.

Maybe it's a non sexual group, just for music.

It's beautiful.

It's a shame though.

Mr. Balthasar.

As long as you make up words using the digit 4

and then "um", and I am to understand "forum"

as in the Roman site...

Quiet.

...I can't give you a passing grade.

Be careful.

Gina too. Watch the spelling.

And no punctuation.

No periods, capital letters...

Punctuation gives meaning to your sentence.

I don't want to remind you all year.

One person who surprised me

by her efforts on grammar

and spelling is Miss Aurore.

What? Seriously?

Yes, seriously.

With some spelling howlers. "Mammoth."

One word.

It's not a "mam" type of moth.

It's not what one can expect of a literary analysis

or even the germ of it... - Don't say germ, sir.

It makes me faint.

She's sensitive to vocabulary. It's important.

It was funny.

For all these reasons and efforts,

your grade is meant to encourage you.

- 15/20! - Yes, 15.

But it's 15 this time. Next time,

I want you to focus...

Settle down.

...on the text itself. That goes for everybody.

The true scope of the text.

A book isn't just a story.

What is it?

Words strive to say what escapes them.

You look dumbfounded.

I didn't understand what had escaped,

but I pretended I did, just to please him.

I didn't remember getting a 15

since kindergarten.

Your assignment over the holidays

is Tristan and Iseult.

It's a love story, like in...

Hold on.

We need to stick to our topic.

Princess of Cleves was a love story. Here's another.

It's fascinating. Also write down

a personal well-argued idea.

Right, Aurore?

Put away the tests I handed back,

we're doing conjugations.

Number 3.

Hey.

I play the drums.

Number 3.

I'm Tom.

Drums are cool.

Here's the lyrics for songs I wrote. It'd be nice

if you could sing them.

Plus, he writes songs.

Though honestly, I can do just as good.

Could you write other lyrics? A little more...

- Real lyrics. - What?

We just want you to sing.

I have to feel them to sing them.

If you're so good, write them yourself.

I get it. I have to go. Bye.

It's a good start for a love story.

First they hate each other, then they fall in love.

Sir.

Aurore.

I thought of what you said.

Do you have smaller books? Not too thick.

With little text, quick and easy.

- "Quick and easy"? - Small texts.

- Short stories? - Actual books.

I don't know.

You don't want text,

characters, or story.

- You want emotions? - Yes. Do you have any names?

Try Francis Ponge.

Like a sponge?

There you go.

Exactly. À chat perché.

- Seriously? - You'll like it.

Francis Ponge, À chat perché.

Chat perché, by a sponge. Not sure he's a teacher.

Read it. I'll check.

Excuse me.

I'm looking for a book and I'm lost.

All these books, just here to dishearten us.

Nobody reads all of this. Why start?

So? What do you need?

À chat perché.

You're in the humanities.

You want the youth section.

Do I have to look through all the books on the shelves?

It's organized. By alphabetical order.

If I have to go through the whole store...

Leave me alone!

Stop it!

Stop it!

Aurore!

- 31-08. - OK.

No! No! No!

No! Leave me alone!

Hello? Alexandra?

Alexandra.

How do you know Aurore?

Let me go!

Let me go!

What idiot shut the door?

You broke my back.

One, two, three, four.

Great, Aurore.

No, seriously.

- I told her. - It's not what we're doing.

You told her bullshit.

- No! - We said 2nd chorus.

At the beginning.

2nd chorus, not verse.

- Just let me die. - Please.

I didn't get it.

Hey, are you OK?

- Did you get any other grades? - Not really.

You know, I didn't tell you then but...

Now I will.

I'm very, very proud of you, honey.

What?

Am I bothering you?

- If you keep this up... - Keep what up?

- Getting good grades. - I don't know if I can.

You can't redo things.

Monkeys, for instance.

Once they're out of the forest, it's over.

You can't just put them back.

Yes.

Of course.

All right.

I'm glad we talked.

It's nice.

I'll take the laundry.

Good night.

It's good that we talked.

All right.

- I can't. - It's the end.

- The last one? - Yes!

- No, the 4 beats. - What a pain.

Don't be selfish. There's no bass on the original.

There's three of us here. Let's go.

- Can I show you my lyrics? - But David...

Would you tell Sting that?

You say "go" and "hold on". Listen to me.

Hey! Are you kidding me?

"On one foot On anything

"You have to stand On a balance

"Here is your fate To answer

"When you don't understand."

That's the lamest lyrics I've ever heard.

No, no... It's pretty good.

You're just missing a couple of rhymes.

Be honest with her or she'll insist.

Tom, don't make me slap you.

Go ahead.

Calm down, Tom.

She told me my lyrics sucked.

Don't be mean.

Enough, now. He's joking.

Hey, David.

What's up?

- Hey. - Hey.

- What's up? - And you?

Hey.

Are you going to Laura's party?

- Yeah. - Yeah.

See you later then.

And the third point: to convince and/or dissuade.

Enjoy the break, happy holidays!

Go over the injunctive and the elements of a point of view.

Bye.

Aurore! Come see me, please.

I've started correcting your analysis.

What you wrote is just unthinkable.

When you write: "I wonder what drives you

"to give out repulsive texts

"as regards the future": What?

"Are you telling us not to accept

"drinks from strangers."

- It's kaput then. - What?

That's not a sentence.

It's not coherent. It's not even an opinion.

It's just a series of fits of rage.

Am I to grade it?

It's up to you...

- What? - You're the teacher.

One grade won't change much.

Yes, it will.

So I won't grade it.

OK? I won't grade you on this anymore.

But I will ask you for a book of poems

of your own invention

for the end of the year. I'll grade that.

You have a lot of imagination.

Merry Christmas!

Says you!

Is it a crèche?

It's what people do.

Aurore is making a crèche!

So? You have your books.

It's not religious propaganda!

Don't be dogmatic. She's having fun.

I don't have a baby Jesus. What do I do?

I want baby Jesus.

Don't pick a fight.

Help me with the decorations.

Lola, it's me.

I miss you.

- So, what happened? - Nothing.

I tried to work. I was good in French for a while.

I gave everything I had. I can't go on.

As soon as you stop, you fail.

As if nothing happened. You might as well not try.

What if I become homeless?

Too bad.

I'm kidding!

It's your fault.

I tried to help you and you

threw everything in my face.

- Really? - What about Areski?

He's gay.

No?

Oh... you're exaggerating. You always exaggerate things.

They forgot about boarding school.

Thank you, Sophie.

Or they haven't received the report card.

Or maybe it's God.

I'd read the short stories.

Are you still sulking?

Aurore, come open your gifts.

I'm sulking.

It's Nordic. It must be

full of guns and people in the snow.

- So? - Great.

Thank you! Thank you!

How did you guess?

I have a lot of imagination.

My baby.

And now...

Is it the right one?

Mom, I love you. Always mocking me...

You liked it.

Vladimir, watch out for old people.

I love babushka. She's very cute.

Where should I put it?

Dessert! Dessert!

Dessert! Cake!

Cake!

Cake!

I didn't make one.

Oh! Bloody jellyfish!

My favorite!

What is it?

Is it alive?

What is it?

Since it's a festive day, I have an announcement.

It's good news.

Vladimir asked me in Russian,

and... I said yes.

I just couldn't resist. It was so powerful.

I said yes.

You said yes... to what?

What was it again?

"Will you... 'bury' me?"

No, not "bury". "Marry."

Who are you marrying?

Vlad.

Why?

Why not? It's not a big deal.

You think it's stupid?

It's maybe a bit hasty.

Don't worry. Imagine a big Russian wedding.

Have you listened to the music? It's so gripping.

I'll be called Jessica "Askazoskov".

Aksakova.

Jessica Aksakova.

Pat?

Pat?

You're quiet.

Yes.

But it's good.

It's... an opportunity...

It's...

It's a great adventure.

It's a fairy tale.

A Russian fairy tale with a Russian.

Right. Right?

Pat... I don't recognize you.

It's...

- Let's stay calm. - I think it's a good idea.

With a dress, a party. Everyone wants to marry.

No. Frigid people, for instance, have other priorities.

And you?

Let's first hear what Vlad has to say.

I'm very happy that everyone agrees.

Not everyone, but we agree.

The priest wants to know

if the fiancée is baptized.

Baptized?

But we're not...

Catholic.

Who cares?

She can still have a nice wedding.

We're not married, but people do it these days.

Don't mess this up.

We can baptize her. Right?

Aurore!

Don't worry. I'll tear her head off later.

Do we eat the...

What's it called again?

Italian pears with Amalfi coulis. I found it online.

It looks like... breast implants.

- I like the... thing. - Yes.

The big breasts.

That's right.

What is it? Now, now.

Now, now.

Do you remember when he proposed? He never did.

What did I say? Huh?

You never married. For once things are done right,

you could cheer up. - Right.

If Jessica can get married, can I go to Samira's party?

Clubbing.

Barbie.

Barbie 2.

Prostitute.

Granny. No comment.

No. No way!

There's Samira.

Samira!

What did you do to your faces?

- No! Not that one! - Yes.

Areski told me I had to apologize.

- Yeah. - Honestly, I'm sorry.

It wasn't right. I apologize.

You're all dolled up.

That's men for you.

They look stupid, but they're very complex.

It's the sexual difference.

The hormones!

I should have dated Marceau. I feel sorry.

Maybe we would have been happy. We'd have gotten married.

Actually, Marceau and I are going out.

Are you upset?

Who, me?

- You're quiet. - What should I say?

Ask me questions.

I know enough.

Kwamé, can I get a glass of water?

- Are you OK? - Hey, David!

Are you OK?

Great!

3, 2, 1!

Excuse me.

- Areski, call emergency. - I'm OK!

- I'm OK, I'm up. - Are you sure?

- Shit! - Boys, are you OK?

Not great.

I can't come back. I'm ashamed. I lost my honor.

I'd managed to ruin my life in one evening.

The world record of lame.

I didn't want to see the band.

Never again. I'd rather have died.

What now? No need to get in a state.

- Come back. - Fine.

SOBER!!!

All right. I apologize.

We were saying, it'd be good if you had a style.

I have a style.

No. That's not a style. That's a no-style.

I have to be a clown? I'm a singer!

No. Don't listen to him.

It's just... It was my idea. I thought...

I'd been thinking...

Here.

It's a present from your favorite band.

I have to say thanks?

Who can fit in this?

It's something for the concert.

What?

The concert.

Yes. We finally set a date.

In public?

Yes, in public.

- Tom, give her the lyrics. - Yes.

Where will it be?

My parents' café.

Where else?

Ready?

- One... two... - What if I can't sing?

- I want to kill her. - Shut up!

I want to hear my lyrics.

If you can call those lyrics!

You're both real pains!

I can tell you now, I won't do it.

- What? - Grow up.

She's 13, you're 17.

Anyone would look pregnant in that dress.

"Alise"...

We'll check with your father.

Is dad still at work?

He's visiting a wedding venue.

What are you doing?

Planning the wedding.

- And Jessica? - Guess.

"Azalée," "Azalée"... Not bad.

And dinner? Now, not at the wedding.

Aurore, don't start.

Will there be bridesmaids?

I don't know. I have to look up on Orthodox weddings.

- If there is, I want to do it. - Count me out.

You'll do it, because she's your sister.

So? Is it a lifelong curse to have a sister?

- Did she ask my opinion on weddings? - Tell us. It's interesting.

Well... nothing...

Think about it.

Where's the phone? Where did you put it?

Can I take one?

I don't care, but you could be nicer with mom.

What do you mean?

- Just be nicer. - I am nice.

It's absurd. So now I'm not nice?

Don't say thanks.

You rat. You nutjob.

At least help me choose.

It's for the invitations.

Make up your mind. Do you need my help or not?

She spent an hour online

for some invitation bound for the trash.

You all need to calm down.

You're a selfish brat. Oblivious to everything.

You only care about yourself.

What about you?

Brushing your hair could help.

You're a mess with no friends.

What a life!

Stop it! Enough!

What are you saying?

I'm ugly and stupid?

Yeah.

You're all alone.

You have no friends. You're a mess.

I'm a mess?

Who do you think you are, with your opinions?

You stare at me like some pathetic pile of shit.

What is this?

How old are you?

Look at me.

I can stare too.

Yeah, that's right. Beat it.

Fuck!

I didn't mind the "nutjob". But "selfish" just did it.

I don't want to talk with anyone. So I'm on my own.

Hello, Aurore.

How are you?

OK.

Anything wrong?

Good thing you're here. I have something for you.

A present!

At least it's not a dress.

Francis Ponge.

I tried, but they didn't like it.

- They? - The band.

- What? - The band.

Just forget it.

But did you like it when you read "Francis Sponge"?

I don't want to say. You'll make me write some book.

I want to know if you liked it.

- Yes. - OK.

So what do you say? "Thank you."

Thanks.

It's for you.

Thanks. What a happy panda.

- It's a teddy bear. - Oh!

It's fine, then.

Well. Cheer up.

Francis Ponge Twelve short texts

Forgive the apparent absence of flaws.

I can never explain.

Give it back!

Invitations: 200 E.

Wedding dress: between 200 E and over 5,000 E.

We have to choose.

"The reception makes up 60 % of the budget of the wedding."

Even though the venue was a bargain.

We know you found the venue.

Hey, Aurore. What's up?

Accessories: 200 E.

Who cares? I'm not spending the day on it.

And the bouquet?

The bouquet.

50 E. You need a suit. It has to be new.

Did you see they set the date on my birthday?

I'll have to buy an extra gift.

It's not what I meant.

No. But still.

Mom! Can you come here, please?

You can't do that.

I was at the university, he offered me a coffee...

I realized we were already an old couple.

I'm sick of this.

She doesn't want to get married.

I told you weddings were a mess.

Now we have this venue. You're sad. All that down the drain?

The venue, not you.

She doesn't love him.

She can't force herself. It's not a big deal.

Yes, I know.

It's stupid.

I'm going grocery shopping.

Do you need anything special?

Goodbye.

Areski? It's me, Aurore.

No, it's about your stupid concert. I may have a solution.

That's when I said: "I'll play the clown."

Then I ran out of battery.

Here you are!

Are you OK?

- You're sure? - Yeah. Yes.

Don't worry, it'll be fine.

You forgot this last time.

The dress.

Oops.

Don't look. I know there's a mirror.

Close your eyes.

Done.

Ready?

No, not yet.

And now?

Ready.

- Does it fit? - Yes.

Yes?

- Who chose it? - I did.

Stand in front of the mike.

Did you button...

No.

It's like I'd never seen him.

All of sudden, it hit me like a space debris.

Number 4.

Come here, my number 4.

I could sing for her. We keep the venue

for a surprise birthday party.

Next. Next.

Next, damn it!

- What? - Nothing.

Why the stare? You think I'm a mess?

Go ahead. I won't make a gratin.

Where are you taking me?

Surprise!

You're being very ceremonious!

I like to be formal. It's not the same.

Laurent, please don't propose.

Don't worry.

Are they here?

- How do I look? - Chic. Very chic.

Seriously?

- I'm ugly, is that it? - No!

Physically, you're fine.

I'm just not used to it. I'm used to your own style.

I can wear a gray T-shirt and a brown vest.

Gray and brown, fun!

So?

Are you ready?

And your shoes?

What shoes?

You plan on singing bare feet?

I didn't think about it.

Your toenails are gross.

No one will see them. They're clean.

Do you have nail polish?

She's coming!

Come on, come on. Come on!

Careful! Come on.

Hush!

Yeah!

Happy birthday!

Turn around.

Don't move, I'll miss.

Stop it!

I'll miss if you move.

It wasn't frigid at all.

I either had some unknown foot sexuality.

Or it was love. Real love. You never know.

It's pretty good.

Stop. It's not funny.

- Mr. Buns. - Yes.

Oh!

- I'm Aurore's mom. - I see.

- Did she invite you? - Yes.

It's my birthday.

Yes. It's a nice surprise.

It is.

You got her going in class. Thanks.

Yes, Francis Ponge. It had a trigger-effect.

Come on, it's starting.

Hold on. I'm coming.

- Come on. - What's going on?

- What are you doing? - Look.

Come on! Come on!

Come on! Come on!

Come on!

Yeah!

- She's so small. - Well, yes.

Come on!

Come on!

Aurore!

This is for my mom.

Oh Mamy! Oh Mamy, Mamy blue

Oh Mamy blue!

I left one summer's night

Without a word or a goodbye

Without looking back on the past

Come on.

As soon as I passed the border

The wind was blowing louder

Than when I was with you mother

The house has closed its eyes

The cat and dogs are older

They've come to say goodbye

It's not a very joyful song!

I'll never come back

To this village of mine

Where forever you lie

Isn't the mom in the song dead?

Just watch if she's dead!

She never could dance.

- To dance? - Never.

I had her practice judo. She never had a sense of rhythm.

Neither does he.

Bravo! Bravo!

Bravo! Bravo!

Aurore! Aurore!

If I start to love them, life will be unbearable.

I'm not used to it. It'd be too much.

She's so touched! She's so touched!

I'll have to hate them forever.

Another one!

MISS IMPOSSIBLE

Subtitles: ECLAIR