All language subtitles for Ratuj kto może (życie) (1980)

A FILM COMPOSED
BY JEAN-LUC GODARD

EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF

Good morning, sir.
May I remove the tray?

Denise Rimbaud.

This is Paul.
ls Denise there?

No message?

Could you give me Studio 3,
the video room?

This is Paul.
I'll be there in an hour.

- Signor Godard!
- What about our suitcases?

I told you to leave me alone!

- Our suitcases!
- Beat it!

Hey, our suitcases!

Signor Godard,
you didn't tell the manager.

You're a good man.

I was drunk.

It's okay, all right?

Monsieur Godard,
I'd like to tell you something.

- What?
- I love you, sir.

- You mean my soul, right?
- No, your body.

- What?
- Your body, sir.

Don't be mad.

I want you to fuck my ass.

Fuck me, sir.
I've been fucked by half the navy.

There's nothing better
than a nice little asshole.

You kissed me, you bastard!

I love you.

This is the devil's city!

This is the devil's city!

1. SLOW MOTION

O. LIFE

What was that music?

- What music?
- The music that was playing.

I don't know
what music you mean.

They had a daughter
who married a local schoolteacher.

And their third son, Andre',
was a bit simple-minded.

Yes, I remember.

He was out with Tauki's wife
and got in a car crash.

That was quite a scandal!

Well, he married
one of the cousins in Les Bioux.

She was a bit odd.

His parents were against it.

Then he left.

Do you know what became of him?

No, I never heard anything more.

I wonder what became of him.

Didn't he go off to Risoux?

I hear he's still in France.

- Keep the change.
- Thanks.

Have you seen
Mr. Piaget this morning?

Yes, he dropped in.

We were supposed to meet.

I think he went
to take some pictures.

Pictures?

Yes, of the game.

Is it far?

No. it's that way,
beyond the station.

Feels strange
seeing you here, Denise.

1. THE IMAGINARY
It's been a long time.

Yes, it has.

Not that long, Michel.
Not really.

Is it a novel, this big project?

No...

but that might be part of it.

I only ask because
of what you said in your letter.

A serialized column
taking shape in real time -

not just an imitation -

that's what I always wanted
to see in a paper.

I don't think it would
go over well here.

Your hair is still lovely,
like ebony.

You were such a critic
of the inheritance system,

yet now you act
just like your father.

That's true.

At first it felt very odd,
taking over his business.

It was awful.

That's all
revolution is about.

But it's fine now.

At least here I have
the countryside.

The countryside.

Pretty as a picture.

- When are you going back down?
- After I look at an apartment.

But I'm coming back up Monday.
My mind's made up.

All right.

Stop by later.
Meanwhile, I'll speak to Madeleine.

That's the silo of grain
for the cattle.

They must be fed every morning.

I just get the grain...

and the rest is automatic.

- It comes straight into the barn?
- Yes.

You push the green button to start it,
the red to stop.

May I use your phone?

Sure.

Let me show you something.

Sometimes they give
your ass crack a good lick.

This is Denise.

Listen!

Could you just
fucking listen to me?

You'll have to go
pick Duras up for me.

I'll give you the address.

Because I'll be late,
that's why.

Paul, listen.

I won't say it again.

Yes, I took your key back.

Because it's over -
or rather, I'm starting anew.

No, I put an ad in
on Wednesday.

Now you tell me!

What's your name?

I put your suitcase
in your room.

First room on the left upstairs.

I've let this drag on for two years.
You should congratulate me.

People always say -
They always say -

They say you need
someone to lean on.

I wanted someone
to lean with.

We've never really leaned
on each other.

We never leaned on each other.

Something seemed to stop us.

It's not tragic.

That's right.
I talk like you now.

All right.
What's the address?

That's no reason, you know.

Sometimes not knowing someone
makes it more interesting.

Passionate, even.

No, that's not passion.

Fine, I'll go.

As for the apartment,
I promise I'll do it.

Just not right now,
because of Cécile and my ex-wife.

I knew you'd say that.

Oh, hell!
Work that out with Yvette.

It's Denise.

Yes, it's always the last time,
then it happens again.

Okay, we'll see. Bye.

“Something in the body
and the mind...

braces itself against
the repetitiveness and emptiness.

Life...

A quicker gesture.

An arm...

that falls back...

out of rhythm.

A slower step.

A sudden gust...

of irregularity.

A wrong move.

All pathetic bulwarks

against the endless void
of the workspace.

Events still occur...
- Okay, we'll discuss it later...

- though tiny ones.
- But I want to know where I stand.

- Moments still exist...
- Maurice's leaving. You'll take his place.

though horribly stretched out.

This awkwardness...

this unnecessary movement...
- You'll operate the printing press.

- When does the paper come out?
- this sudden acceleration...

this hesitating hand...

- Every Thursday.
- this grimace...

this letting go...

is life's struggle to hang on.

That which, within each man
on the production line,

silently screams,
'I am not a machine.

Why is he leaving?

It's a long story.

You should ask him.

He didn't get along with her.

- You mean Madeleine?
- Yes.

Why did you keep
that picture of me?

I don't look like that anymore.

Call it madness.

Come with me.

It's the idea of a “novel” that made me
so passionate about your letter.

That's not passion.

By describing secondary events,
you shed light on the main issues

and reveal the truth that
the secondary role is the main one.

What will my pay be?

Three hundred to start.

If it works out, we'll talk again.

What's going on with Paul?
- It's over.

But no one seems to notice,

including me.

Choose.

- Choose.
- No, I won't!

Choose.

- Georgiana.
- You have to choose.

Choose, Georgiana.

I won't choose.

I won't choose!

I won't choose!

About 20 seconds.

- ls Cécile here?
- Over there.

Stop spitting on your hands.

2. FEAR

- You work 'em hard here.
- Yeah, a bit.

Marie-Claude,
let's pick it up over there.

- You hear what Castro said?
- No.

He's moaning that the fucking Cubans
don't work as well as Americans.

Oh, yeah?

The truth always comes out.

- You have kids?
- Yes, a daughter.

How old?

- Twelve, same as Cécile.
- Cécile is 11.

She have breasts yet?

Yes, same as Cécile.

You ever felt like feeling her up

or fucking her up the ass
or something?

I think it's unfair that a mother
can touch her daughter or son

more easily than a father can.

Come on, hurry up.

Why didn't Mom come get me?

The bitch
wouldn't give me the Peugeot.

And I have to get this one
back to the garage. Come on!

And I have to see someone
at the TV studio.

Where's my present?

“Look.

She says,
'Look: the end of the world.'

She says, 'Look.

The end of the world.

All the time.

Every second.

Everywhere.

It's spreading.'

She says, 'That's better. Yes.

It's so difficult.

So terribly hard.

Terribly hard.

We have to go, Jeanine.

All right, we'll stop there.
No problem.

- Thank Denise for me.
- Thanks. Bye.

Since Mr. Godard happens to be here
with us, perhaps he'd say

a few words about the film?
- No, I won't.

And I know
she won't stop by either.

You mean Duras is here?

Next door.
I came to get her.

Call her for us.

Marguerite.

I'll just go see.

Is she there?

She's there.

She's not budging.

Didn't Denise warn you
this might happen?

Well, no.

Then I'll say a few words.

Let me see your notes.

Here we are.

“L make films
to keep myself busy.

If I had the strength,
I'd do nothing at all.

Because I can't bear to do nothing,
I make films.

There's no other reason.

That's the most honest thing
I can say about my work.”

That goes for me too.

As for Ms. Duras...

every time you see
a truck pass by...

think of it as the word
of a woman passing by.

Couldn't she just stop in
to say she won't stop in?

Writing is a bit like disappearing.

It's being behind something.

But certain physical signs

made me aware that there was

something dubious about it.

Something almost immoral.

I felt physically sick
speaking about it afterwards.

The silence
that always surrounds a text -

not the text itself,
but the reading of it -

it's the spoken word
that creates it.

If a woman's place exists -

and I'm not sure it does -

I think it's quite similar to that.

I think a woman's place
is much more full of childhood...

than a man's place.

Men are more childish than women,
but they have less of a childhood.

Will you help me?

Yes, I will.

Will you love me a long time?

Longer than you think.

- Where is Duras?
- She isn't here.

Where is she?

I took her to the airport.
She left at 5:00.

I can't believe this!

She wanted to leave earlier.
isn't that right, Cécile?

I don't know.

- But what do I tell programming?
- The truth.

- What truth?
- That you don't care. You're leaving.

Is it your show or mine?
Answer me, damn it!

- Listen, Denise.
- Will you answer, you fascist?

- Take it easy.
- No, I won't take it easy.

Are you going to answer?
- Okay, it's your show.

- So why are you still deciding for me?
- I don't know.

Come on, answer me!

What's it matter?
You can do whatever you decide.

It's not up to you
to decide what matters!

I can think for myself!

Why do you always
have to think for me?

If I quit TV,
I'll decide how and when.

And you won't take its place!

I'm not your audience,
like your stupid daughter.

And I already gave notice!
All because of you!

Because of your idiot father!
- Go to hell!

Longer than you think!

“Over the last 200 years,

blackbirds have left the forests
and became city birds,

first in England
at the end of the 18th century,

and then later in Paris
and the Ruhr valley.

During the 19th century,
they invaded all the cities of Europe.

They settled in Vienna
and Prague around 1900.

Then they moved east, taking over
Budapest, Belgrade, and lstanbul.”

- And then?
- There's another paragraph.

Let me see.

“For the planet Earth,

the blackbird's invasion
of man's world is far more significant

than the Spaniards' invasion
of South America

or the Jews' return to Palestine.

Changes in relationships
between species -

fish, birds, men, plants -
are of a higher order

than changes in relationships
between groups of the same species.

Whether Celts or Slavs
occupy Bohemia,

or Rumanians or Russians
conquer Bessarabia,

the Earth couldn't care less.

But blackbirds betraying nature
to follow man in his artificial universe -

that's what changes
the organization of the planet.”

- I need to add a conclusion.
- After “planet”?

You have any ideas?

What about you, Paulette?

I don't feel
like having ideas anymore.

“No one dares think -” No.

“No one dares interpret

the last two centuries in history...

as being about the blackbird's
invasion of man's cities.”

I have to make a call.

We don't have much
to say to each other,

even once a month.

It's true.

Can I have my check?

Thanks.

What about my present?

You too?

How old are you, Cécile?

Answer when I ask you!
- Stop being such a pain!

Why won't
the little bitch answer?

- What's gotten into you?
- Nothing.

I know what it is.

All I did was ask her age.

His girlfriend slapped him,
and he's taking it out on us.

Ah, Denise?

Is that still going on?

I thought it was over last summer.

Did you finally move out
of your plush hotel?

I can't decide. I'd like to.

But I think she just wants me
to keep the apartment

in case where she's going
doesn't work out.

Where's she going?

I don't know.

Further and further away.

At least she's got
the guts to take off.

She's searching.
- So am I.

Not really.

Not really, Paul.

Let me tell you:
She'll leave feeling sad and alone.

Like me, because
I didn't really want to leave.

What about Cécile's present?
- Here.

Take yours off and put that on.

You're being a jerk.

Why? Because I want
to see her breasts?

You're either a bastard
or you're drunk.

I'm not drunk.
I'm finished.

Cécile's good at math.
Ask her what a finite world means.

See you next month.

Thanks for waiting.

Could I have a sandwich, please?

Did you miss your train?
I don't have a car.

You can stop
worrying about me.

Did you really advertise
the apartment?

That was a rotten thing to do.

Give me a little time.

I'm getting sick
of the big city too.

I don't believe that anymore.

I'm getting fed up
even in a small town like Nyon.

Your moving in
would have helped me.

You supposedly needed peace and quiet.
Said you had new projects.

I do. Nothing's changed.

Only if I stayed.

You need a guardian angel.

Well, I'm sick of it.

Neither angel nor beast,
neither god nor master.

Getting a bike and heading
to the mountains won't change your life.

It's none
of your business now.

But I have eyes,
and I see what's what.

You always wanted love
to come from work,

things we could do together,
not just at night.

You said our nights should grow
out of our days, not vice versa.

It's not me.
That's how people live.

We both agreed love couldn't survive
without a little work.

Otherwise it's just bursts of passion -
nothing that lasts.

It's too hard when it lasts.

I want to stop defining things
and just do them.

Call that what you will.

I learned
to feed animals today.

A calf had a hole in its back.
Whatever he ate poured out of it.

With me it's people.

What do you mean?

They have a hole
in their mouth,

and the words just pour out.

Where did you call from earlier?

My mother's.

I told you I had to take Cécile out.
it's her birthday.

What did you give her?

Nothing. I'm paying enough
for her soccer training.

She's like you. She says she wants
to play soccer, but it's all just talk.

How's that like me?

You and your bike.

You think it's action,
but it's just talk.

- May I?
- “What about me?

Will I go to heaven?

Please tell me, Father.”

“I like you, my son”, says the priest,
“but I can't tell you just like that.

Come back Saturday.”

it's all the guy can think about.

He rushes back that Saturday.
“Well, Father?”

The priest says,

“I have some good news
and some bad news.

The good news is
you're headed to heaven for sure.”

The guy's delighted.

“But what's the bad news?”

“The bad news is...
you leave Wednesday.”

That's how it goes.

What's that music?

- I'm going.
- I'll go with you.

No.

Call me Saturday.

- I'm coming with you.
- No!

That's enough now, damn it!

You really feel
like seeing a movie?

There's no sound! Sound!

It's outrageous!

There's no sound.
They cut out the sound.

It's ridiculous!

Ma'am, there's no sound!

Where's the projectionist?
- There is none.

- You're joking!
- There hasn't'! been one in years.

What do you mean?
This is an outrage!

This isn't funny!

I never heard of such a thing!

You really want to see a movie?

Not really.

We going to the movies or not?

All right.

I took off my panties
so you can feel me up in the dark.

- Think they'll show a newsreel?
- Of course.

Leave your panties on.

What's wrong?

I just feel
like watching the movie.

You know, I'd just have
to walk down the street

to find hundreds of guys
who'd love to screw me.

Go on, then.

I'm going home.

You make me sick.

Can't you see I'm trying
to build a real relationship?

You can't build it
with a hammer.

So are we going
to the movies or not?

All right. Let's go.

Don't work so hard.

Don't work so hard, damn it.
Stop pretending.

She'd closed her eyes.

lt was going to be a long one,
but no mailer.

It would give her time
to plan her day.

First she 'd put away her things.
Everything nice and tidy -

linens, papers, everything.

Mirrors and copper gleaming.

She'd have to replace
the curtain cords

and clean the windows too.

Then all the rest,

so the others see
how essential she is.

She'd make sure
the plumber came today,

or no one else
would know what to do...

...and they?! all risk
dying a painful death.

Is this all right?

Yes.

Did you sleep well?

No, too many dreams.

Dreams are always terrible.

Even in dreams
you keep looking for solutions.

See you around.
- Bye.

Bitch!

Scum! Unionist!

Think you can be independent?

Yes.

No one's independent.

Say it.
- No one's independent.

Not the whore or the typist.

Say it.
- Not the typist or the whore.

Not the housewife
or the duchess or the servant.

Not the servant
or the duchess or the housewife.

Not the tennis champion...

or the schoolgirl...

or the farmer.

That's enough.

Only the banks are independent.

But banks are killers.

Come on.
Don't be scared.

It's just a first warning.

We're not killers.

We don't want all the money,
just half.

You got that?

You got it?

She didn't see me.
You think she's coming up?

Yes, don't worry.

Are you a friend of lsabelle's?

I'm not really sure
Isabelle has friends.

What do you do?

I'm a journalist
and an illustrator.

Right now I'm working
on a comic strip.

What are you doing here?

Hi.

Hélène, it's not my turn
to do the dishes.

Okay, Okay-

So why are you here?

I have something to ask you.

I have to make
a couple calls first.

Your sister's such a pain!

This is what
I was telling you about.

The Stucky Agency?

I'm calling about the ad
for the four-room apartment.

I see.

Too bad.
Thanks anyway. Good-bye.

What's that music?

Now, then,
what do you want?

I need some money.

How much?

I don't know...
20 or 30 thousand.

What for?
Are you crazy?

Some friends and I
built a boat.

We wanted to sail
to the Antilles,

but we didn't have
enough money.

We still need sails.

So we tried to rob
a jewelry shop,

but we botched it up.

They're all in jail.
I have to help them.

Is this with Jacques?

No, it's some others
you don't know.

Thirty thousand francs?

Even twenty would do.

I haven't got it.

Besides, I'm leaving.
it's too tough here.

Where are you going?

Closer to the countryside.

I don't know yet.

Anyway, I don't have the money.
Pass me a cigarette?

I'm not asking you for it.

What then?

I don't follow.

I wanted to ask
about turning tricks like you.

Just for a week or two.

That's all.

Two times seven times four,
divided by two...

Two weeks wouldn't do it.

You'd need a good month.

If that's what it takes.

You realize
what you'll have to do?

Yes.

- You got big breasts?
- So-so.

Let me see.

You got a thick bush?

So-so.

What do you think
you'll have to do?

Suck cocks?

You ever done it?

With Jacques, but not really.

Do you have to swallow
or just pretend?

Best to swallow it.

How does it taste?

Here, see for yourself.

Have you ever licked
a guy's asshole?

You'll probably have to.

But don't just say yes
to everything.

What guys like
is to humiliate you.

You said “divided by two.”
Why?

Half for me.

- Really?
- Yes.

All right.

Let's talk in my room.
I have to make another call.

Why don't you like my sister?

Besides all that, are you happy?

No, my life's full of stories.

But not real stories.

Nothing to make history.

In a cafe' the other night,

a guy said
happiness has no history.

Then I'm happy-

How are Mom and Dad?

They moved again.
They're back in Grenoble.

Grenoble?
Those idiots have got guts.

Can't you wait till I'm gone
to move in?

No, not at that price.

Then you shouldn't have sold
Rocheteau and Barberis.

No, I'm not worried.

The guys from the Amsterdam team
will be here soon. They're ready to sign.

I don't know.
Forty-five minutes.

Well, find a way.

Bye.

Hello.

- Claudia sent me.
- Yes.

Put your things over there.

- Did they tell you the price?
- Yes, it's fine.

How are you?

- Fine, thanks.
- “Thank you, sir.”

Thank you, sir.

- Excuse me a moment?
- Of course.

Hello?
Yes, this is Mr. Person.

Take off your shoes.

Hold on.

Come here.

Take off your pants.

No, my wife was just
asking me something.

Ah, women!

No, I said 160.

That's right, 160.

What? 130?

Definitely not.

Bend over.
Lean against the window.

- Yes.
- “Yes, sir.”

What? 120?

No, 145.

We drove to the beach that day.

A weekday, splendidly deserted
at the end of spring.

The beach bums in rags
slept on the lawns above the sand.

Others sat on stone benches
sharing a lone bottle.

The gulls whirled about,
mindless yet distracted.

Old ladies in their 70s and older
sat on the benches

and discussed selling real estate
left behind long ago by husbands

killed by the pace
and stupidity of survival.

No, I really can't go
any lower than 120.

For it all,
there was peace in the air,

and we walked about and stretched
on the lawns and didn't say much.

It simply felt good
being together.

I bought a couple of sandwiches,
some chips, and beer,

and we sat on the sand eating.

No, 120 is impossible.

I have my overhead.

You too? I don't doubt it.

Then I held Cass
and we slept together about an hour.

It was somehow better
than lovemaking.

There was flowing together
without the tension of desire.

We drove back to my place
and I cooked a dinner.

After dinner I asked Cass
if she'd like to live with me.

She waited a long time,
looking at me, then she said no.

A hundred.

Yes, that's how it goes.

Well, think it over.

Yes, ask for Mr. Person.

20-15-51, room 510.

Bye.

My god, she's showing her ass
to the whole city.

Admiring the view?

Shut up.

Sorry, sir.

That'll do.
You can get dressed.

- Your name is really Mr. Person?
- Yes. Why?

I don't know.

It's an unusual name.

It's normal for a person
to be named Person, isn't it?

Look, I burned myself.

P as in Person.

Are you
a passionate sports fan?

No, that's not passion.

- What do I do now?
- I'm thinking.

Here's the rest.

You'll really do anything?

- Yes, as long as it doesn't hurt.
- I never hurt anyone.

What's your name?
- Isabelle.

Isabelle,
go out in the hallway

and come back in
in 30 seconds, all right?

You're our daughter.

You're back from England.

We're in town,
and you come see us at our hotel.

You say, “Hello, Daddy.”

Then you kiss Mom.
- Mom?

Yes, Mom!

Now get out of here!
Quick!

Go on!

Whatever you say.

- Isabelle?
- Yes.

Remember me?

- Uh... no.
- Marie-Luce.

Oh yes! Hello.

- We were in grade school together.
- Yes, I remember.

- What are you up to?
- I'm waiting for a friend.

And what do you do?

- Not much.
- But you work, right?

Not much at the moment.

- Listen, would you like a job?
- Yes.

I might have something. Some people
I know are looking for people.

- I'd be interested.
- Would you?

Thanks. Would you be free
in 15 minutes?

No, I'll be tied up
for an hour or so.

In an hour, then.
15, rue du Nord.

All right?

- Okay.
- 15, rue du Nord.

- Thanks.
- Bye.

Isabelle!

What a surprise!
- Hello, Mom.

Our little girl's grown.

Look, she's got tits now.

Show Mom your tits.

And what an ass she's got!
Show her that too.

And now you show your ass
to your daughter.

Go on.

Her ass is bigger than yours.

Now, Mother, show your daughter
your lovely bush.

There!

And look at our daughter's
lovely bush.

A pretty little red bush.

Like the color of autumn.

Isabelle, ask your mom
to kiss your pussy.

Mom, come kiss my pussy.

Go on.

That's enough. Beat it.

You happy?

That's what you wanted, right?
- No.

I wanted something else.

You always mess everything up.

You're pathetic.
- No, I'm not.

This way.

Here he is.

This is her.
- Hello.

Marie-Luce tells me
you like adventure.

Not terribly.

You'll have to travel.

Where?

Could we talk it over tonight?

I'm working tonight.

Everything
will be arranged for you.

Once a month
you'll get a ticket in the mail.

You go and you come back.
- Go where?

It depends.

Caracas, Beirut,
New York, even Paris.

- And what do I do?
- Nothing. Just travel.

Go to a hotel,
stay a few days, and come back.

I must do something.

Your friend's not too bright.

We told you: You do nothing.

You'll get $5,000 when you leave

and $5,000 when you get back.

- When would I start?
- The 10th or the 15th.

- Hello. Claudia sent me.
- Put your coat there.

Sit down.

Jerk me off a little.

What's she like, Thierry?

She's nice.

How's her ass?

- Do I undress?
- Turn around.

Just do as you're told.

Take your pants off.

- I have to use the phone first.
- Panties too.

Thierry!

Don't move.

See you tomorrow.

So what's her ass like?
- Nothing special.

- Take your pants off too.
- Yes, boss.

Miss, I'd like
Montreal, Canada, please.

Area code 514.

879...

4349.

Room 522. Thank you.

Ask her her name.

What's your name?

Marilyn.

Ask her if she wants
a good slap.

Nicole.

- Nicole what?
- Weber.

Your tits aren't so great, huh?

Say it.

What?

That your tits aren't great.

My tits aren't great.

Louder

My tits aren't great.

Good.

Now to work, Miss Weber.

Come here.

Kneel down.

Get to work.

Get under the desk.
- What do I do?

Suck his cock. You have to spell
everything out nowadays!

Go get the other girl.

Yes, boss.

You can do better than that,
you fat slob.

Lick my inner thighs.

Easy there.

That's it.

Suck my balls.
- "For instance,

ask this Louis guy
who his heroes are.”

“Louis, who's your heroes?”

“Well, lemme see...
Al Capone, Guevara, Malcolm X,

Gandhi, Robinson,

Ma Barker, Castro,

Van Gogh, Sartre, Bob Dylan.”

“See, he identifies with all losers.

He's getting ready to lose.
We're going to help him.

He's been conned on this soul shit.
That's how we get their asses.

It's all con.
There ain't no heroes.

It's all con.
There ain't no winners.

It's all con and horseshit.

There ain't no saints.
There ain't no genius.

That's all con and fairy tale.
It makes the game go.”

Come closer.
Don't be frightened.

Was it you who wanted
to use the phone?

Go ahead.

Want to take a leak too?
- Not at the moment.

Go on, call. Dial 0 first.

- Stick your dick up her ass.
- Whose ass, boss?

The one under the table.

And you, each time
he shoves it in, you suck.

All right?
Nice and steady.

Sorry to call so late.
I'm calling about the ad.

- You about done?
- The four-room apartment.

All right, see you Saturday.
Good-bye.

“Each man just tries to hang on

and be lucky - if he can.

All else is bullshit.”

“All right, I dig your losers!

But Castro looked pretty fat
last photo I saw of him.”

What is it?

“He subsists because the U.S.
and Russia keep him in the middle.

But suppose they really put the cards
on the table? What can he draw to?

He wouldn't have the chips
to pay for a whore in Cairo.”

“Fuck you two guys!

I like who I like,” said Louis.

Well...

what do you want me to do?

- You have any lipstick?
- Yes.

Thierry, go get it.

I have it here.

Nicole, lie on your back.

Thierry...

put your thing in her mouth.

What's your name?
- Isabelle.

Come around here, Isabelle.

That's good. Stop.

Come closer.
- Do I lick her ass?

- I didn't tell you yet.
- Sorry, boss.

Know what they called women
in the Middle Ages?

No.

- And you?
- I don't know.

You know?

Do you know?

Witches.

What else?

Snares of the devil,
embers of hell.

Where'd the bitch get that from?

Where'd you get that?

- I heard it on the radio.
- All right.

Put lipstick on me,

but only when he licks your ass.

And you, Thierry...

you lick her ass

only when the other one
sucks you.

And you...

you suck him every time
I touch your tits with my foot.

Let's try it.

Okay, the picture's good.
Let's work on the sound.

When I touch your breasts
with my shoe...

you say “ow”
and then suck him.

Go on.

Thierry...

when she sucks your dick,
you say “oh”...

and then lick her ass.

Let's try it.

And you...

when he licks your ass,
you say “hey”...

like when you're goosed
on the Métro.

Go on, Thierry.

Then you put
some lipstick on me.

Just once.

And if I smile, you kiss me.

Let's try it.

“I looked...

into that ivory face...

and I saw in it...

the expression of somber pride...

of ruthless power...

of craven terror -

of an intense...

and hopeless...

despair. ”

- I'm going to the bakery.
- All right.

I'll see the apartment
and meet you at the car in an hour.

'$4 Hundred Do-it- Yourself Ideas. ”

Good Lord.

I have an idea.

- You have an idea?
- That's right.

- What are you doing here?
- I called about the apartment.

Ah, right.

What happened?

We want to touch,
but we only bruise each other.

You're crazy.

She looks like she's hurt.

She's got a hard head.

She's a banker's daughter.
I'm going out for a walk.

I always feel too much.
I've got to let it out somewhere.

Me too.
And the one who loves you gets it.

Of course. He's right there.

No, thanks.

Will you continue
in the same line of work here?

For a while. I'll see.

I've been offered another job.

“Don't forget that a carrot
trembles before the knife,

lettuce screams
when it's shredded,

and cabbage weeps
when it's boiled.

Angelo Napoli,
October 15, 1979.”

What's that?

An Italian ex-boyfriend
wrote that.

Is it painful leaving -
what's his name - Paul?

Yes.

I'd have liked him
to keep the apartment.

Actually, no.
I'd have been pissed.

- He's still there.
- No!

Yes, I ran into him yesterday.

He said he'd meet
every train for two days

until you came and said good-bye.

- He just wanted you to tell me that.
- And now I have.

Is that what your project is -
a book?

No, but that might be part of it.

“You always get somewhere.
I thought I'd never reach 32.”

You're 32?
- Yes.

What's this?

“Crystal and smoke,
the two faces of death.”

it's from an English novel.

I can't remember the title,
but it impressed me.

No regrets, then?
I keep everything?

Yes. Except the phone bill.
Send that along when it comes.

I'm really grateful.
it's a great help.

- It's a greater help to me.
- No, to me.

Well, good-bye.

Are you happy?

Yes, I'm fine.

You were really good.

Did you turn the radio on?
- Yes.

You're interested in that?

Yes, I'm interested in physics.

And in the physical too.

- Mind if I turn it off?
- No.

I wanted to tell you that...

That's true.

But it's not tragic.

- Is that you in that picture?
- Yes.

And the other picture?

That's from the previous tenant,
but I kept it because I love Coca-Cola.

Let me speak to Yvette
in the video room.

I've been wandering around
for two days.

Yes, because of Denise.

I'm kind of depressed.

It's all right now.

Did you manage
to finish anyway?

Put that there.
What day is it?

Wednesday?

So, Mr. Godard,
will you be going or staying?

Can I stay another six months?

- That's absolutely fine.
- Thank you.

Would it have killed you to put
a rearview mirror in a brand-new car?

- Where are you going?
- Shopping for Cécile.

I'm sorry about Thursday night.

Couldn't we see each other more often?
Once a week?

Well?

I'll think about it.

See you.

MOW.!

I think I know him.

It's not our problem.
We're getting out of here.

Wait!

Rather stupidly, I started thinking.

I'm not dying-

My life hasn't flashed
before my eyes.

I'm not dying...

l don't feel any...

What are you looking at?

It's none of our business now.

You coming, Cécile?