All language subtitles for Un.Coeur.En.Hiver.1992

A HEART IN WINTER

Maxime.

Maxime and I had known each other
so long, we didn't need words.

We work together, but he's the boss.

In this family business,
Maxime maintains tradition.

Musicians are at ease with him.

He knows their repertoire,
invites them to lunch.

He listens. He calms their fears.

No, you did play it
with the Vienna Philharmonic.

They entrust us with their most
precious possession, their violin.

You hear the lack of clarity?

Yes, a lack of brilliance on the E.

Maxime sees them more
as patients than clients.

For more extensive treatment,
Maxime steps aside.

Is it just unglued, or more serious?

Perhaps I should hear you.

Maxime preferred musicians.

In the height of the concert,
he shared in their emotions...

and shared in the applause,
genuinely moved.

Maxime needs to expend himself.

He is at one with his body.

He so loves to win that losing for me
becomes a pleasure.

He has appetites, but no qualms.
Life hangs lightly on him.

If he has to lie, he does it effortlessly.

I'm a willing alibi
for his nocturnal pastimes.

We haven't spent an evening out
together for years.

He tells me his adventures later.

Work done, each of us lives his own life.

Maxime never asks where I go

or who I see when we aren't together.

It suits us both fine.

- Hello.
- Hello.

Your table will be ready in two minutes.

- Hello.
- How are you doing?

Stéphane.

See you later, after coffee?

- Do you know who I was talking to?
- Régine Oblet.

No, not her. The other one.
Do you know her?

No.

Yes, you do. You've heard her...
Camille Kessler.

Oh, yes.

The Debussy recital. A bit dry, you said.

No, it was good.

We're ready for you.

She's coming as a client.

They say there's a Guarneri to be sold
in Geneva at the end of the month.

Magnificent.

But a ruin, in a broken case.

You'll have a ball.

- Don't you want to go to Geneva?
- Me? What an idea.

- Go somewhere for once.
- No.

I've got to talk to you about
something that's going on with me.

- Something important.
- Yeah?

If it's too much trouble,
just forget about it.

No, go ahead.

I've met someone.

Go on.

You're facing her.

Really?

Yes.

How long now?

Two months.

And you didn't tell me?

I was, uh... being afraid.

I didn't want to rush things.

How did it happen?

I was following her concerts.

One evening I went to see her afterwards,
and she wasn't happy with herself.

I mentioned a dry patch she played
with a lot of emotion.

That must have hit the spot.
We had dinner together...

Then you took her home...

She's not like that.

Besides, she lives at Régine's,
she's always home, it's not easy.

So you came between a couple?

No. She's known her since...

She's not just her agent,
she's her mother's best friend.

And anyway, her career comes first.

One night I was waiting for her here,
she was late.

I felt ill, almost left, but she came in,

looked around for me, she looked lost.

Seeing her like that...

I realize it can happen, loving someone.

And your wife?

There was a difficult moment.

But it had long been over.

You don't spend your life
with a good friend.

It's better for her, too.

You don't leave her much choice.

Someone always suffers.

And now, what are you going to...

We're going to live together. In the
meantime, I've rented a little studio.

I think someone's waiting for you.

See you shortly.

That guy I went to Geneva with?

Wants to buy my bookshop
and make it a duty-free.

Lermontov. He's like you, dry as a whip.

The guy was propositioning me.

Are you listening?

Look at a man touched by grace.

Maxime?

My, she's...

- Good-bye. Have a good day.
- See you.

Wonderful.

Madame Amet! Come and see this marvel.

I had the harpsichord and cello,
only this missing.

Magnificent. Was it you?

No. Maxime. He found it in Hungary.

But he rebuilt the mechanism,
piece by piece.

- Some were missing, no?
- Two.

I recreated them. It was fun to do.

Yes! Are you staying for dinner?

No. I'm afraid I've work that's overdue.

You work a lot?

Yes.

Never tire of it?

No.

You're lucky.

- Vincent... Is he Madame Amet's nephew?
- Yes.

How old is he?

Five, I think.

You know Camille Kessler.
Was she your pupil?

Years ago.

I heard her play at Aix last summer.

- We're to have her as a client.
- Yes, I know. Maxime told me.

I remember a hard, polished little girl
who kept you at a distance.

But a real temperament, you felt.

No, in here!

Isn't Vincent here?

- No.
- No, he's not inside.

Come on!

- Do you hear that G, how rough it is?
- Yes.

- You've had it how long?
- Three years.

When we bought it, it sounded tender,
superb. It's a Villaume.

No, we're worried because she's recording
in two weeks. They're already rehearsing.

At any rate, you've got to check
the tension on the sound post.

Yes.

The bridge is slightly warped.

- It has to be replaced.
- Right.

Can you change it quickly?

If I change the bridge,
I'll have to adjust the fingerboard.

That could take a few days.

- But we're in the middle of rehearsals.
- You already said that.

If you like, I could lend you another one.

No, no, thanks, I have my student violin.

And this recording, it's...

The two Ravel sonatas and the trio.

- I'll try for the day after tomorrow.
- You'll have it.

Well, then, that's done. Good-bye.

- Thanks.
- Good-bye.

Hmm, all 18th century.

- Ah, that one's the nicest.
- It's the most expensive.

We're already late for the Lambertis.
It's noon, and I'm sure the traffic...

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

You can go, Brice.

Good night.

See you tomorrow.

Sorry, Christophe. Again.

Sorry.

No, I'm not keeping up.
I'm not keeping up at all.

I thought it was good. Let's go on.

It's not working. It's got nothing
to do with you. I keep falling behind.

No, come on, I don't think so.

I'm not going to be able to do it today.

- Is it the violin that...
- No, no.

Régine, glass of water, please.

Thank you.

- Maybe a little more work on it?
- No.

No, it's set up just the way I wanted it.
No, it's me.

I have to go.

Okay. Let's go.

Will you hand them up?

I think she's starting to hate me.

Which gives you a certain pleasure?

It's an interesting development.

Yeah. Go on.

It's odd that in three-quarters
of these books, when they talk about love,

whether it's an airport novel,
a masterpiece, or a cookbook...

it's the same vocabulary. Overflowing.

And you find it obscene?

No. As written, it's often beautiful.

Yes, Maxime. We're ready.
We'll be right down.

What are you doing?

- No good, is it?
- It's fine. Hurry. Maxime's waiting.

Let him wait.

I'm not ready. I haven't even got makeup.
Half an hour looking for that score.

I didn't ask you to.

But you let me hunt around like an asshole
just to tell me Christophe took it?

Stop it. We have to go now.

Well, I'm not going!

That's ridiculous.

There's nothing for me to do
at this dinner.

You'll be with Maxime.
You don't need me.

You know, it pisses me off
to play chaperone.

All right, don't go.

Do you realize how you're
behaving with me right now?

It's amazing. I put myself out
so you can do your best in your work,

and you fervently don't give a damn.

Forgive me.

No, Vincent,
knives to the right, not left.

- Are you sleeping here tonight?
- Yes, yes.

Nasty... really?

I remember the exact words.

"Your bow scratches like a pumice stone
rubbed on a parquet floor."

If I said that, it's what I thought.

- You were that cruel?
- Aren't you ashamed?

No! It would be cruel if I said it
to a really mediocre pupil.

- I never said it to Maxime.
- Thanks a lot.

You never did much of anything.

That's right. I never worked very hard,
and I have no regrets.

Regret is always an illusion.

What about Stéphane?

Stéphane... that's something else again.

I'm not talking about emotion.
That's idealistic. It's suspect.

Work is everything.

- Yes, I know. I read your book.
- See, Daniel, you've at least one reader.

What upsets me,
as I wrote in my last book,

is that on the pretext
that it's all culture,

some rate a pop video alongside
a Claudel play, a Piero Della Francesca...

or the Ravel sonata our friend's playing.

And why not Madame Amet's apple tart?

- Would you prefer fresh fruit?
- No, I'm sure it's delicious.

This confusion is unprecedented.
It's all lumped together, pell-mell.

People can still choose.

Yes, but with everything
meriting equal attention

consensus of opinion
becomes a woolly horror.

I believe in a certain mental vigilance.
Is that pompous?

No. We're listening
to the voice of tradition.

- Severe.
- But courageous.

- Tradition! So I'm a reactionary.
- No.

No, you speak for an anxious elite in
a world threatened by democratic excess.

I've fought elitism all my life.

There's too much bleating today.

There's confusion, I agree.

If culture is still a privilege,

it isn't reserved for quite so few.

It's worse, all these clueless
clodhoppers in the museums.

Yes, but if in this museum
a clodhopper's life is changed

by a work of art, isn't that something?

It's always been so.

I don't think so.

You almost agree.

For you, too, there's the sensitive
individual in the blind masses.

I didn't say that.

No, you said there's a natural
selection of people destined...

Not at all.

You said some things that others don't.

Yes. That's what you said.

Yes. I mean, no. But... I exclude no one.

- Neither do I.
- Of course not.

And you? You have no opinion?

No.

None?

He's above the debate.

I hear contradictory arguments, all valid.

We all cancel each other out,
we can't talk about anything anymore?

A tempting prospect, I guess.

I don't have your goodwill.

Fine, we'll respect your silence.

In speaking, one risks sounding stupid.

Not speaking, one may appear intelligent.

Maybe one is simply afraid.

Afraid of what?

Of yourself, perhaps.

That must be it.

You worry me.

Don't discourage such revelations.
I think you're becoming complacent.

Right.

- He's trying to move us.
- Some attempt.

Mission impossible.

I withdraw what I said:

Madame Amet's apple pie is a work of art.

It's a fact.

Delicacy of flaking pastry.

- A touch of...
- Cinnamon.

Ah! That's it!

Is it long since Lachaume taught?

Seven or eight years.

He has an odd relationship with Stéphane.

We'd never met socially.
He's so disagreeable.

You have to know him.

It's all a game he's playing.

You'd have to defend your friend.

I'm not trying to. I accept him as he is.

Yes?

And you?

No, you're not disturbing me.

Yes.

No, she's asleep.

You think so?

Maybe. All right, I'll tell her. Bye.

That was Stéphane.

What did he want?

To talk to you.

On reflection,
he thinks he can do better by the violin.

He'll come to your rehearsal.

Why? The violin's perfect.

He knows what he's doing. Trust him.

It's a small thing, but...
If you don't mind.

Yes, it's different. Better, isn't it?

- Purer. Yes.
- Yes.

It didn't strike you before?

Yes, but... it takes time to...

It didn't seem the right moment
to mention it. Then later...

Fine. Again?

Is it all right?

Yes, but...

What?

Weren't you playing a bit fast?

Yes. You want to check the pacing?

Yes, if you don't...

How's that?

It's lovely.

You're going already?

Yes.

Have you others to see?

No, but I must let you work. Good-bye.

Good-bye.

- So long.
- So long.

- Shall we go on?
- Take it again from 30-26.

Odd how the oldest varnish
has kept its color.

If you effect a sale, will I owe you?

No commission. Just my appraisal fee.

Thank you.

I think I have a buyer for you.

- Will you excuse me a moment?
- By all means.

Stéphane. Did you say Kornfeld
wanted a Gagliano?

- Yes. Has he found one?
- I don't think so.

Are you sure?

I can still catch him.

- Isn't that too tight?
- It usually is. You must enlarge it.

Yes. Very beautiful.

Two little restorations,
but in perfect condition.

- Can you come to Amsterdam?
- Yes.

Yes.

The day after tomorrow?

Ah, no, I can't. Friday, if you like.

All right, Friday.

Listen, Mr. Kornfeld, that's the price.

Hold on, please.

Give me five minutes.

We'll take the 9:15 flight
and we'll be there by 11:00.

Perfect.

Not too quickly.

That's it. Gently.

Perfect.

- All right. Now what do you do?
- Adjust the heel.

Gently...

Easy...

Check how much it came back...

- I think that's it.
- That's good.

Very good, in fact.

You did it, didn't you?
Tomorrow we'll glue it.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

- Good evening. See you, Brice.
- So long.

Maxime's busy, so...

Of course.

- You were there for...
- Two minutes.

You should have spoken.

I didn't want to disturb you.

- Is he your apprentice?
- Yes.

And this violin?

He's making it. His first instrument.

How long does it take?

A month or so.
Sometimes more, sometimes less.

There are 80 pieces to put together.

Would you like something to drink?

Yes. I'd like that.

While we wait for Maxime.

Please sit down.

- Fruit juice? Whiskey?
- Whiskey.

- With water?
- No, straight.

I needed that.
I've had a rather difficult day.

- Rehearsals?
- No, they're going well.

No, it's not that.

Not Maxime, is it?

No, not Maxime.

I quarreled with Régine.

Horrible things were said.

About what?

It was ridiculous.
I don't feel like talking about it.

It got to me, though.

I thought she knew me better than that.

- How long have you known her?
- Ten years.

But she's amazing.
All the musicians she works with love her.

Without her,
I'd never have achieved what I have.

She stopped me from giving up in despair.

I owe her everything.

Maybe you resent that.

- She's protection for you.
- Which I needed.

But it's become a sort of dependence.

Which you used to accept,
but can no longer stand.

Yes, that's it exactly.

It seems simple, but it's hard to accept.

But you already knew this.

Yes. But I've never spoken of it before.

Opportunity.

- Am I boring you?
- No. Quite the contrary.

- When are you recording?
- On Monday.

Couldn't get away from my Dutchman.

So, you've found out where he lives?

- A bit austere, isn't he?
- No, I don't think so.

- Sorry, we're late. See you tomorrow.
- See you soon.

So, it was a lot more than conversation.

You established a real intimacy.

It was she who came to me.

But it's what you were waiting for.

Let's say, what I hoped for.

- Are you in love with her?
- In love?

I know you bristle at the word.

No, it disorientates me. Let me think.

No, I don't think I am. No.

- Anyhow, it's Maxime she loves.
- Yes.

At one point, I did get the impression

that she'd rather have dinner with me
than with him.

An impression.

I wonder
if you could be jealous of Maxime.

Of Maxime?

I never have been, and doubt I could be.

- You win. Bravo.
- Sorry. I'm in great shape.

- You can have your revenge.
- No, my flight's in two hours.

I'll leave you drunk with victory.

- Will you be back tonight?
- Yes, the nine o'clock flight.

I'm glad you two are getting on.
I was a bit worried.

And you're relieved?

Yes. Selfishly, I prefer it that way.

I wonder if we shouldn't have got
better musicians to back her.

I think they're fine.

The cellist?

Christophe? No, he understands her.
They complement each other perfectly.

- What bothers me is, he loves her.
- Don't say you're worried.

No, it's her, fending him off
but trying not to hurt him. Energy wasted.

I've never before admired someone I love.

So I'm forced into greater rigors...

excising lazy habits.

- You manage it rather well.
- It's exhausting.

A healthy exhaustion.

She's guarded if you question her,

not for coquettish reasons.

In fact, she reveals herself
only in her playing.

- Does that bother you?
- No. On the contrary.

- Time's tight, but want a lift?
- No, I'll walk a bit.

- See you tomorrow.
- Till tomorrow.

- Yes?
- Once more.

Take seven.

Very, very good.

Good. Shall we take a break?

Yes. I'm exhausted.

- That was take...?
- Seven.

Hi.

- You were here?
- Yes.

You heard?

- Yes, the end.
- And what did you think?

- Excellent.
- Really?

I felt good at the end,
but I was floundering earlier, though.

Have you time to go get something?

Yes, certainly. It's a short break, but...

I'll be there in five minutes.

We can go to the café.

Hey, it's raining.

- Yes. I think that--
- Let's go. Quickly.

- Did Maxime ask you to come?
- No.

It seems less heavy.

- Shall we run for it?
- Just a minute.

Hello.

Hello.

- You'll freeze. Don't you want to dry off?
- No, no, I'm fine.

- How about something to eat?
- A sandwich?

No, that little cheese plate. And a draft.

A coffee.

- How are things with Régine?
- Better.

She has the flu, a raging fever,
so I'm busily mothering her.

- My fingertips are stinging.
- The pizzicato.

You were at the Conservatoire?

Could I ask why you gave it up?

Not gifted.

Didn't like my sounds.

- Too much the critic?
- That must be it.

- It's a quality.
- That's debatable.

If you like, I have a table over there.

Leave that on the bar. Christien...

- ...like I'm stupid? You couldn't warn me?
- I told you.

You did not tell me. You said you were
at Versailles. Where were you really?

- I told you.
- You're always lying!

- You don't listen. You're crazy!
- That's it, I don't listen.

- Have you always lived alone?
- Yes, mostly.

You enjoy solitude?

I'm a thwarted loner,
but enjoy the company of men.

- And of women, too.
- That's not the same thing.

No.

I'm not exaggerating.
I tell it like it is.

Enough already!

And the truth is, you are such a coward.
Don't touch me...

I fear for their future.

I think he's crying.

Haven't you ever been in love?

I must have been.

Maxime spoke of Hélène.
What is she to you?

What's she to me?

Someone I appreciate. We get on well.

You don't like talking about yourself?

Not much.

How come?

I don't much like it,
and it doesn't serve any real purpose.

It depends who you're with.

I can stay silent for days,
then suddenly let go if it seems right.

That's what I used to like about Régine.
We worked hard, but then we'd play.

We could talk all night long.

I remember,
in a hotel room in Rome, we decided to...

- I can feel your attention slipping.
- No, no.

I'm listening... seeing.
I love to watch you talk.

Coming right away.

Well...

- Will you come again?
- Of course.

I'm glad you came.

Yes?

Just a moment.

Stéphane?

Yes?

Ah, hello.

No, I'm sorry, I couldn't...

Yes.

Today I don't think that...

I see.

Of course.

Bye-bye.

Pass me the honey, please.

I must try to get up this afternoon.

If I can only speak up...

You're looking well.

- When do you start today?
- Ten o'clock.

- What's the matter?
- Nothing.

Sometimes I wonder
if he really likes what I do.

What are you talking about?

He said he was coming, but he didn't.
He seemed put out when I called.

- But you told him to stay away.
- I'm not talking about Maxime.

I'm talking about Stéphane.

I don't understand.
When he's there, he's there.

Then suddenly it's as if I didn't exist.

I'm going to be late.

Again.

Funny, it's really so easy.

Excuse me. Hi.

- I think I've already seen it.
- Look, you could have come by earlier.

Never mind. I've forgotten the end.

- Not seeing her?
- No.

Are you proud of yourself?

You want me to push things?

Playing dead just makes it worse for her.

You overestimate my powers of attraction.

No. I don't, nor do you.

You know, Stéphane,
usually when a woman gets that far,

she's unlikely to retreat.

- She hasn't called again.
- Which means nothing.

What is he doing? He's usually on time.

- Who?
- Francois. I said he was coming.

- The lawyer?
- Yes. Do you mind?

Not at all.

You never know with jealousy.

- What about Maxime?
- He's fine, brimming with life.

Has she talked to him?

Maybe. I doubt it.

Sorry, parking problems. Excuse me.

Francois, Stéphane.

Hi. Hélène has told me a lot about you.

It's intimidating.
I know she values your opinion.

No, let me, let me.

Three, please.

Thanks.

Here it is. So.
An entrance is an entrance.

It was a deal, a guy leaving for the US,
said I could fix it up, so I jumped at it.

- Hello, gentlemen.
- Hello.

- Everything all right?
- Going fine.

- What do you think?
- It's a nice room.

- You're seeing to everything?
- Yes.

Camille hasn't time with a tour coming up.

The bedroom.

Bathroom there, the music room.

That?

That's nothing.
Maybe for Régine if she's unhappy.

The kitchen will be bigger
with the partition gone.

Neither of us can cook, but there you are.

She has to feel comfortable here.

I must call her,
let her set her seal on it.

Hi.

Yes.

Yes, at the apartment with Stéphane.

Yeah, do you want...

Listen... yes, it's coming along.

They're painting.

No, it will go just fine. I heard
the first mix, and it's really good.

Yes.

Okay. See you tonight. I love you.

All right. Shall we go?

Is something wrong?

Yes.

Can I have some water?

Sure.

Thanks.

Are you okay?

It must be the smell of paint.

Yeah, probably.

Is this it?

Yes. Thank you.

- Like a bag?
- No, thanks. What do I owe you?

125 francs.

Here you are.

Thank you.

- Have you Chekhov's stories in paperback?
- Yes. Just a moment.

- Good-bye.
- Good-bye.

- Find it?
- Yes.

I know it wasn't easy.
Thank you. You've restored its youth.

My taxi's here.
Time for me to leave my best friends.

- So long, Stéphane.
- See you.

Monsieur Landron.

Stéphane is marvelous.

Well, that's great.

Landron's madly happy.

- Hello.
- Hello.

Uh, give me... a whiskey.

- What'll you have?
- Water.

- Flat?
- Yes, flat.

- Can you get me this London number?
- Certainly.

I was going to call this morning.
I forgot.

- I'm afraid I have to go there tomorrow.
- I can go if you like.

- This is new.
- Yes, you convinced me.

If you want to, it would help me.

- You must be hungry.
- A bit.

Is it too late to eat... something cold?

Yes. You'll find it there.

She's been working since 8:00,
and she's going back in this afternoon.

Your call, Maxime.

- When do you finish?
- Tomorrow, in theory.

Maxime said you were quite pleased.

I think so. I'm not sure anymore.

Are you all right?

Yes.

Why are you avoiding me?

I'm not avoiding you.

Was it something I said or did?

Not at all. I've been very busy.

I thought you cared about my work.

Is it because of Maxime?

Maxime?

You might have scruples,
as he's your friend.

There's no friendship between us.

No friendship?

No.

We've been partners for years.

We complement each other.

It's to our mutual interest, that's all.

He thinks of you as a friend.

I can't prevent that.

- I don't believe you.
- Why?

Because it's not something one admits to.
But it's true.

Are you shocked?

No. Saddened.

Misusing words is sad.

You devalue them and everything else.

The way you twist them.

What are you protecting yourself from?

I seem to be laying myself open.

You aren't like that. Nobody is.

It doesn't happen.

It's a pose.

What do you want?

Do you want me to invent reasons, traumas?

Unhappy childhood, sexual frustration,
career nipped in the bud?

No, I don't see it.

My brothers and sisters did find me
naturally sly and secretive.

I admit it freely.

Offering this unpleasant image
of yourself is a bit facile, isn't it?

A bit. I'm sorry.

You act as if emotions didn't exist.

Yet you love music.

Music is the stuff of dreams.

Sorry, they don't want you.

They prefer someone they know.

Too bad. It's their loss.

- I'm off. See you later.
- So long.

- Your table's ready, Maxime.
- Great.

I'm feeling low, Maxime.

I don't feel good about myself.

Not because of the sonatas.

Stéphane?

I've never lied to you.

I don't want to start now.

What's happened?

Nothing.

He's attracted to you.

I sense it, I see it.

I know him...

better than he thinks.

He's always hanging around the musicians,
especially when they record.

At the apartment that day,
it was as though his mind blanked out.

Like a malaise.

What about you?

It's like...

a pressure.

It's there.

I try to...

But I do think about it.

I'm thinking all the time.

Stéphane.

It crossed my mind, but...
I wouldn't believe it.

I didn't come to beat him up.

I need air. Like to come for a walk?

Yes?

Hello?

- You haven't left yet?
- Just boarding.

I'll miss Camille's last day of recording.

Can you go by there today?

Yes.

Does that work out?

Thanks. See you tomorrow.

- Bravo.
- You really blew me away.

- So?
- Magnificent.

- You have a car?
- Yes.

Thank you.

- It's long since I've been so moved.
- Thanks, but it's thanks to him.

Superb. Superb.
You were right. I'm so pleased.

Régine, will you take my violin?
I'm going with Stéphane.

But we're all having dinner.

I know, but no.

- What shall I tell them?
- I'll leave it to you.

- Camille, are you sure you...
- Yes.

Everything's all right.

Recording with Barbizet,
we weren't allowed to retake sections.

I'd never played it like that.

Yesterday was good, but still flat.

Today, I felt inspired.

- Right through to the end.
- It seemed so easy.

- How about a drink?
- Sure. Any idea where?

Maybe... some hotel.

It was you I played for.

He must be drunk.

I spoke to Maxime.

About us.

It was hard.

He heard me out.

I told him what's happened.

I want you.

It's not like me, but I had to tell you.

So there it is.

Camille... I don't think I can give you
what you're looking for.

You want it, too.

I know you and accept you as you are.

I don't mind about this closed world
you built around yourself long ago.

I'm here for you.

Look at me.

You can't go on living like that.

You must see that you're changing.

Camille...

You're beautiful.

You're going to be a great musician.

You have almost a surfeit of gifts.

So, since I'm perfect...

But you're fooling yourself.

You insist on seeing me
as you imagined me...

as someone else.

But I'm not that person.

Don't deceive yourself. It's so simple.

I must tell you the truth.

I'd decided to seduce you,
without loving you...

probably to get at Maxime.

That's what I decided.

One doesn't decide these things.

You don't understand, Camille.

You talk of feelings which don't exist,

to which I have no access.

I don't love you.

- You know--
- Don't talk, please.

Don't look at me.

You make me sick!

Is that what you were doing?

Yeah, I was smoking. What of it?

I've made an appointment,
and you're going.

No, I won't go! What can he say
that I don't already know?

"Don't smoke, don't drink, don't fuck!"

All right, don't go! See if I care!

- Here's your book.
- Don't bother. I'm sick of it.

So let yourself go completely,
don't make any effort.

You're into everything...

nosing about like a bulldozer
with your big boobs.

Don't be coarse.

- You always have to change the subject.
- It's for your own sake.

To hell with you!
I'm going out for some air.

Crap!

- Did you hurt yourself?
- No!

- Don't stay out here. It's cold.
- Leave me alone!

It's to be expected.
You hardly slept last night.

I'm not tired.

I don't sleep if you can't.

We aren't tied together!

I could go, if you want, leave you alone.

I never said that. Don't go on.

I didn't know what to do.

When I got back, she'd collapsed there.
She'd been drinking.

She drank a whole bottle of gin.

I had to carry her, and she threw up.

Now she's shut up in her room.

He said something that humiliated her.

I'm to blame, too.

I should have paid more attention,
talked to her or to you.

But it seemed to me...

- Is she asleep?
- I don't think so.

No, I can hear her.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- This is Hélène.
- Hello.

- What would you like?
- Nothing.

I went to your place.
Thought you might be here.

Would you like some?

Who is this man? What is he?

An ear.

A genius with his hands,
as his friend Maxime says.

Friend if it suits the interests of both.

Friendship doesn't come into it.

This is good wine... not that I'd know.

They're nice, these little dinners.

Afterwards you go home...
or not, depending.

I haven't heard you play, but Stéphane
says you've been recording. It seems...

What? What is she talking about?

I'll leave you. Excuse me.

I can't... I can't take it.

We can't just leave it like this.

I can't accept that.

Say something.

Camille, I told you the truth.

You know you didn't.

At the studio that day it rained,
I didn't imagine your attentiveness.

That's my job.

Don't tell me I was
just like some musician on TV.

No. Certainly not.

- Your way of looking at me...
- I was sincere.

Everything we said to each other...

But we didn't say anything.

Oh, but we did.

Or was it I who...

No, it's not possible.
It's not... possible.

But why?

I told you why.

But if it was to get at your friend,
you should have fucked me.

Sordid, but at least it's life.

Camille, stop this.

It's nothing! You're nothing!

Embarrassed? Let them have their fun.

Old strait-lace...

wishes he were elsewhere.

Ah, it seems he loves music.

Because it's the stuff of dreams
and nothing to do with life.

You know nothing of dreams.

You have no imagination,
no heart, no balls.

You've nothing in there!

- I'm sorry, but I think--
- Leave me alone, you.

What's happened to me?

What am I doing?

Don't worry, I'm going.

I'm ashamed.

I'm ashamed.

That's it. It's finished.

No, not yet...

I told your mother seven o'clock.

Let's go, Billy.

Are you going to help me with the dishes?

Don't forget the ladder.

- Is Stéphane sleeping here?
- Yes.

Can he mend my truck?

What did you have in mind?
Disrupting things...

the pleasure of demystification?

But one can't demystify feelings.

No one can boast that sort of pride.

Maybe you felt unworthy of her.

Yes?

Yes, my dear?

Don't move. I'm here. I'll help you.

Wait. I'll be right back.

It's okay now.

You fainted.

There.

It will soon pass.

You'd lost your book, is that it?

I'll help you cool down a bit.

You frightened me, you know.

You should have called me.

You want to get up?

I feel better now.

Easy does it. Lean on me.

I don't know. I thought I'd had it.

Of course.

- Want a little more?
- No, thanks.

- Has Vincent left already?
- School is at eight.

Good morning.

I'm hungry.

Did you sleep well?

You weren't cold?

No.

It hasn't rained as they said it would.
The wind's changed.

Okay, I'm leaving.

If the agency calls, remember to confirm.

What do you want?

Is Camille in?

Do you really think...

I'd like to talk to her.

Good morning.

Don't forget.
Six o'clock at the Lambertis'.

Okay, I won't.

I'm sorting things out.

We're going on tour,
and I've a lot to buy.

I'm not here with excuses.
I wanted to see you.

You're seeing me.

Will you be away long?

About three months. Japan--

No, Germany first.
Régine has the schedule.

I've wanted to call you, tell you
to forget all that nonsense I said.

It was true.

I know I'm not nothing.
I'm good at what I do.

But you were right.
Something in me isn't alive.

I can never manage...

I've put it off for so long.

I failed you, and I lost Maxime.

It's myself I destroy.

No use telling only myself.

I had to tell you.

You have, but now I'm the empty one.

Yes?

No, she isn't in. Later this afternoon.

I'll be seeing her, so I'll tell her.
Good-bye.

I have to get ready.

- So, what are you going to do?
- I don't know.

Good luck.

Brice, the clamp, please.

- Did they come about the shelves?
- Tomorrow.

- Hi.
- Hello.

You I can tell.
It was through a personal ad.

He has a great sense of humor...

just macho enough, and reads a lot.

We get along well, especially about food.

I'm sure he has faults,
but I don't see them.

- What does he do?
- Vineyards in the south-west.

Oh, that's good.

I won't get buried in vines.
We'll still see each other, won't we?

Yes.

I listened to Camille's record. It's good.

Do you think of her often?

Must finish the inventory.

- You've sold up?
- No, got a manager. But who knows?

- Let's have dinner before you go.
- Yes. At Carla's.

Time heals all. Or my place, if you want.

That's fine.

The pegs are a bit tight.
We'll polish them.

- Will you leave it?
- Yes.

- For late this afternoon?
- Certainly.

Good-bye.

You're well set up here. Nice and light.

I came to see how you pinch our customers.

Landron said he was going with you.

But don't worry, I'm doing fine. No doubt.

That's nice.

- How long has it been, eight months?
- And a half.

Camille's fine.
Of course there was a while...

Now she's back to normal, working hard.

She comes and goes.

You know... how violinists are.

You sleep there?

Perhaps we could merge
as partners, not friends, this time.

No, you're right. Better not.

I went to see Lachaume.

He's not well.

He's suffering.

Doesn't talk anymore.

He wants to die.

Ah, Brice. Hello.

- I'm happy to see you.
- Me too.

You know he's getting married?

- No.
- Yes.

- How old are you?
- Twenty-two.

- So young.
- How should I take that?

As a compliment.

- And he'll stand witness?
- Yes.

I hope he's up to it.

Your tickets, Brice.

Hello.

Oh. Hello.

- A good competition this year.
- Yes.

Were you here yesterday?

Did you see the 14-year-old yesterday?

- So you have a workshop now?
- Yes.

- Still looking after Camille?
- Yes.

We see less of each other. She has Maxime.

You know she's off to Paris?

You should go and see her.

How are things with you?

I'm getting old.

Do it fast.

- Well, bye-bye.
- So long.

I'll send you some clients.

He's been asking for three days.

But I can't. I can't.

He was so hard on himself.

But when he laughed, it was...

Where's she playing tonight?

In Brussels, at "La Monnaie."

Hello.

I'll get the car.

You loved him?

The only person I did, I've long thought.

And you? Are you all right?

I think so, yes.

Maxime too?

- You're playing in Paris next week?
- Yes. Will you come to hear me?

Absolutely.

I'm glad I've seen you again.

Me too.

See you.