Original subtitles

Script Girl on La Grande Illusion

At the time I was a bit rough,

not exactly sociable or convivial.

It was in February 1937.

I was 20.

It was my first job with Renoir.

He hired me to type the successive stages

of the screenplay of La Grande Illusion.

We worked in a little office in Rue de Lisbonne, in Paris.

The film had been hard to set up.

At last it was made.

I became his script girl.

We began on location.

3 or 4 weeks, I think,

at Haut-Koenigsbourg Castle and Colmar barracks.

Filming on location is fun.

Like being on a cruise, I expect.

My keenest memory of filming was being cold.

Whole nights spent trudging through snow.

I was very badly equipped.

My shoes were ridiculous.

That's why I was so cold.

A 36 metre drop.

Very kind of you fo show us round your place.

A handsome castle.

12th century.

In 37 there was snow everywhere.

But it started to melt.

So, we had to work fast,

because Renoir needed snow for the film.

Renoir was never scared of changing things. On the contrary.

It made my job pretty hard,

but Renoir trusted me.

The screenplay was always written

for Gabin and Fresnay.

The part of Rauffenstein took longer to cast.

They finally signed up Stroheim

and everything was reworked.

The situation's quite different.

No one can escape from here.

And now, gentlemen, if you will follow me...

Stroheim created his own character and costume.

He invented his neck brace and decor.

He wanted black silk sheets in his bedroom,

but Renoir said no to that.

The list of new prisoners, Sir.

Almost everything was rewritten on set.

Renoir and Stroheim spoke German.

Stroheim wrote in English,

Becker and I put it into French.

Lieutenant Maréchal,

5 escape attempts.

Disguised as a German soldier,

disguised as a woman...

Funny, very funny indeed.

Not so funny when an N.C.O really took me for a woman.

Not to my taste at all.

Gabin was on top form, happy, beaming,

with a splendid instinct for his craft.

He had his eyes spotlit in close-ups

to make them lighter.

It was funny to see him with Fresnay.

Gabin was on first-name terms with everyone.

Fresnay was more distant, more reserved.

- May I? - You can never do as others do!

We've been together for 18 months

and you still stand on ceremony.

I'm the same with my mother and my wife.

No.

So...

- Cigarette? - English tobacco hurts my throat.

We really have nothing in common.

Fresnay dashed off after filming

to join Yvonne Printemps, stolen from Sacha Guitry.

He was hiding her in a luxury hotel nearby.

While on location,

we never once saw Yvonne Printemps.

Remember her?

Listen, Boeldieu:

believe me, my present job

disgusts me as much as you.

Strong words.

I was a combatant.

Now I'm a civil servant... A policeman.

I fear neither of us can stop the march of time.

Boeldieu, I don't know who is going to win this war.

The end, whatever it may be,

will be the end of the Rauffensteins and Boeldieux.

We may be superfluous.

Don't you find it a pity?

Perhaps...

I admire your care of your geranium.

It's not that I'm a botanist,

but it's the castle's only flower.

It took all of Renoir's genius to know how to use Stroheim.

One of his striking features

was his ability to get the best out of people

and make Renoir of it.

I was very impressed by his way of working.

He'd say, "You should leave the studio doors open".

- Cartier? - Yes.

- Laurier? - Here.

Boeldieu?

De Boeldieu?

Boeldieu.

The work was quite hard.

We shot all night, slept by day,

went home in the morning exhausted.

Stroheim was amazed by Renoir's patience.

The snow melted. We had to spread bags of plaster on the roofs.

In Hollywood, he'd have exploded!

Boeldieu!

I've not been back to Haut-Koenigsbourg,

but I'll never forget

one of the last scenes in the film.

Gabin and Dalio are in the countryside, exhausted,

after escaping.

I disliked the scene, because it was too tender.

I thought that two men in a situation like that would argue.

I told Renoir.

He said, "If you've a feeling for it, write it."

I wrote it as I imagined it.

We've no food, we might as well give up.

Willingly! I'm fed up, too.

Fed up with me?

Yes, fed up.

- If you knew how [ hate you! - It's mutual.

Know what you are to me? A dead weight!

A millstone around my neck.

- I never could stand Jews. - Bit late to find that out.

Clear off! You're dying fo!

Needn't say it twice!

Clear off! I'm sick of your ugly mug!

1 will! You can manage on your own!

Hope I never see you again!

I could sing at the thought!

There was a little boat

That had never gone to sea

After five or six weeks

The food started to get scarce

Why did you come back?

Come on, pal.

We came back to Paris. Shooting continued in Epinay,

then the crew broke up.

The last time I saw Renoir

was 40 years later, in Los Angeles.

As Minister of Culture I'd come to award him the Legion of Honour.

He was very old.

I never saw him again.