Original subtitles

I'm going.

Tell me something nice.

I love you.

No, better than that.

You're very pretty.

Thanks.

Not getting up?

I'm zonked. It's your fault.

- See you later, Agathe. - Sure, Raoul.

Hi, Maxime.

- Chilling out? - You bet!

I know all about it. It's cool.

You look blue.

I sure am. I'm bummed out.

That's bad news.

I thought I saw Mariette.

- Your first love? - Yeah. But it wasn't her.

It threw me for a loop.

- What's new? - Didier's back with Clotilde.

Like I said. He said: "Sure, she's unbearable.

"But if I dump her, nobody'll have her."

- You're kidding. - No. It's beautiful.

That's your opinion.

Another round, pineapple juice for her.

Apricot.

You know her?

Her name's Jeanne. Ajunkie. Almost OD'd once.

Really? And him?

Nice. A shy hanger-on. He looks after her.

- Thanks, man. - Don't mention it.

- Like her? - Adorable.

She does have a cute little nose.

- I'm off. - Already?

I have a date.

- Agathe. - Just saw her.

- Mylene? - No way.

- Flossie? - That's an idea.

- Isabelle then? - No. Patricia.

- Chaste and calm. - Right.

- Coming tonight? - No problem.

- And don't bum out. - I'm over it.

Isn't it time for my lesson?

Can't we put it off, Patricia? I'm beat.

Not again!

Be a good girl.

Tomorrow, then.

Fine. Perfect.

Great!

What's that?

Max Reger. Like it?

Not bad. I brought your book back.

Did it sell?

It had good reviews.

- Read me some of them? - If you want.

Just to see what they thought was good.

Pinhead!

Mom wants you. Don't know why.

I'll be down later.

Raoul!

Call me on my cell phone!

Sure I will.

Veronique?

It's my birthday, Raoul.

No, don't count the candles.

Just dance with me a little.

You dance well.

Young people usually don't know how.

You have rhythm. You know how to lead.

- Who taught you? - My grandmother.

- Congratulate her for me. - She's dead.

- Long time ago? - Two years ago.

That's sad.

I lost my husband. Two years ago, too.

- It's sad. - Don't think about it.

I think about it, then I forget.

Then, I think about it.

This is no time to talk about it.

Happy birthday, Veronique.

Thank you, Raoul.

I have to be going, ma'am.

I know.

Just let me dance a little more,

close to you, please.

I'll pay you for Patricia's lessons.

I've decided to give you a raise.

Good idea.

A big raise.

A big one!

- Blow them out? - What?

The candles. I can't do it.

We'll be in the dark.

Does that bother you?

Look at you, a real martyr.

Lay off.

What's new?

Alexandrine. She's stopped talking.

I saw Genevieve. Alexandrine's jealous of pretty girls.

But I love the cute little things.

Stop it! Leave me alone.

The girl's really flipped.

You remember Annie? Little Nan?

She was cheerful. She sang all the time.

But off-key.

She was still cheerful. Not like Alexandrine.

What do I do? Dump her? Give me some advice.

Want some advice?

- Do what you want. - Thanks.

Any time.

We don't see you in class anymore.

Blabbermouths bore me.

Not us, I hope.

Finished your piece?

No, but I have the title: "For a New Sensuality"...

Or something like that.

We need all pieces by the end of the month.

- How's yours coming? - I started, too.

"Long Letter to the Beloved To Explain It Doesn't Matter."

- Another love story? - And Parisian, I'm sure.

I'm charting out the problem.

You can handle the rest.

"Pucker your lips, really feel the kiss

"and read no more into it than the caress of four lips...

"It's not easy but..." Is that all?

I just started, I said.

Solange!

Incredible!

Opportunity knocks!

Bring back a few bottles.

You look blue. It suits you.

That's sweet.

- I still love you. - Don't bother. Forget me.

I try. But I'm inconsolable.

Without you, I feel lovely and useless.

Raoul, look.

Reconciled?

Looks like it. Looks like they're in love.

Tell me why I've slept with 15 of the girls here.

The same reason you'll go for the 16th

and why I've had about as many.

It seems so stupid now.

Lucky you don't see your first love every day!

I don't even know if I loved Mariette.

I wanted to love someone.

I don't even know if I ever have.

For an hour, maybe. Perhaps that's love.

You're driving me crazy with all this.

See that?

The sexual hour is drawing near.

Ready?

- Can we join you? - Sure.

- What're you reading? - The Seagull.

- By Tchaikovsky. - No, Chekhov.

- Like it? - Yeah, it's good.

If you like books, my friend Raoul's a great poet.

He'll do autographs.

What'll it be? Gin & tonic? Bloody Mary?

- Malibu. - 4 Malibus.

I never know how to pronounce it.

Your accent's cute.

- I'm Maxime. - Coralie.

- Michele. - Coralie, Michele, I like you.

You two stand out. You're so gracious.

You lay it on thick.

He's been talking and touching me for 2 weeks now.

The boys in my class are such jerks.

Just TV and Internet. Isn't it a waste?

A little, yeah.

Stephane keeps telling me dumbjokes.

2 lovers are in a dark room. What goes on?

They kiss?

No, the light goes on!

Isn't that dumb?

- I go that way. - See you tomorrow.

Call me? Say you will.

I will.

Mariette!

It's me.

- It's been a while. - Sure has.

Five, six years. Longer.

- I thought I saw you yesterday. - Really?

It was you, after all.

You haven't changed.

A little. I put on weight.

I've got more padding. Since I had my son.

With Jacques?

Yes. His name's Lucien. Lulu.

He's a real doll.

We're on vacation. At a friend's.

Nathalie. Remember her?

Nathalie? No.

We go back home tomorrow.

Wanna have a drink?

No, they're waiting for me.

What a surprise. It feels like yesterday.

Time flies.

Are you married?

Not at all.

- You haven't changed. - I have.

- Still writing? - A little. Poetry.

You still do accounting?

Still.

So, you're doing okay?

Sure. Are you?

I'm off. Which way are you going?

To the pool, that way.

Wait.

Something the matter?

After all we've been through, we should feel something deep.

But I don't think I feel a thing.

I don't feel anything either, really.

I find it sad.

Me, too. But time's passed. It's normal.

Think so?

I don't know.

If I hugged you maybe we'd feel something.

I doubt it.

Mind if I try?

If you want.

Nothing.

No, nothing.

We've grown indifferent to each other.

Isn't it better that way?

Think so?

I dunno. I think we're being a bit stupid.

I have to go.

I'm going home.

- You coming with me? - Wherever.

You're really glum.

Shallow, mostly.

Shallow? That's new.

I don't think you are.

You're fun. You have to be profound to have real fun.

Can love be fun?

It sure can! That's what I love about you.

No complications,

no arguments, no questions.

Just sensations.

Tenderness.

I think it's great.

- That's your opinion. - Sure.

All that stuff about fidelity, fusion,

undying love, which is supposed to be "profound,"

is just for dummies. And they're always disappointed.

Dream and reality are 2 different things. Right?

But what we love is freedom.

- That's not debauchery... - It's metaphysics.

There you go.

Feeling better.

I'm going. Call me?

You all right?

I'm a little sick. I come here for exercise.

Really? Not to drown yourself?

Not originally. Don't confuse me.

Don't look. They're ugly.

Haven't I seen you before?

At the caf�... yesterday.

I noticed you. You looked sad.

You often do this?

Don't mind me. It's nothing.

I once jumped into the river. It was so filthy.

Why're you staring at me?

I think you're pretty.

Don't say that. I was prettier last night.

Everyone seemed to notice.

Today I look like wilted lettuce. Don't I?

What's the matter?

Nothing. You told me to be quiet.

You're shaking. What's the matter?

Nothing, I said.

Come on. Let's go warm up.

Hold on to me or we'll fall.

In here. My things are inside.

Shaking less?

How you feeling?

Better.

Can we be friendly?

Okay.

I'll try. Kiss me.

- You're suffocating me. - Sorry.

You kiss well. What's your name?

Raoul.

That's funny. I'm Jeanne.

Kiss me again.

Let's make love.

You sure are excited.

Let me put a cap on him.

Go on.

We're really getting acquainted!

I need a rest.

You're so cute.

You'll wear me out.

I can never get enough!

I'd do it all the time.

Andr� doesn't understand me.

The guy at the caf�?

I like him, but he bores me.

He takes care of me but it wears me out.

I'll die young, but so what!

That way I'll stay pretty.

I gotta go.

- Will I see you again? - Maybe.

But don't get attached, okay?

I'll try not to.

Don't be a pain like the others.

I'm going to the showers. See you outside.

Forget me. It's better for you. Thanks for everything. - Jeanne

How about it?

"Her pure nails so high dedicating their onyx

"Anguish, this midnight, holds a torch where burns

"Many a vesperal dream consumed by the Phoenix

"Uncollected in the cinerary urn."

Isn't the translation bad?

It's Mallarm�. It's French, dummy.

Really? Then the style's weird.

- Shall I go on? - Sure. I can hardly wait.

"On the credenzas...

"On the credenzas, in the bare room: no ptyx..."

Stop looking for her. It's distracting!

Your beeswax!

I don't mind coming here with you, but look at me.

I'm looking.

And you drink too much. I can't understand you.

- I'll see my horse about it. - Very funny.

- Any news? - No. And you?

Nothing. It's been 4 days.

That's how she is.

A rebel. But she always returns.

If you say so.

I wonder if you left me a message.

Don't be silly.

I'm leaving. You're mean to me.

I'm not mean to you.

Constantly mean. You don't quit.

What nonsense!

Come back!

You're all worked up over this chick.

You're getting like her: pale, sickly, a real twerp.

You're pathetic.

I thought I was all dried up. But I'm in love.

Go rest up at my folks' country house.

The country's a bore. Anyway, I'm waiting for Jeanne.

You know what'll happen: Today she's perfect,

but tomorrow you'll find fault with her.

That's how it always goes!

Get your synapses in gear:

I'm in love.

"Your body itches, not your soul." You wrote that.

How can I help you?

I can listen to you. Go on, don't hold back.

Be lyrical: it'll be instructive.

What're you staring at?

Did you see who's here?

Isn't this place beneath her?

Here's our chance. She can help us publish our review.

Wanna try?

Why me?

You admire her.

But I have other things on my mind.

Go on. Thomas heard she really liked your book.

Really?

Violette's right. It'll improve our chances.

I can't. She intimidates me.

Just go and do it. I hear she's very nice.

You've got nothing to lose.

Go on.

May I interrupt a second?

Go on, young man.

I know who you are. My name's Raoul Vallonges...

We're a group of friends who've started a review.

Artists and writers...

We have the texts and we're looking for a publisher.

Mr. Regalis, whom you know, never answered us.

We thought that maybe... you could...

- What's your review called? - Fracas.

I'll ask Regalis to call you.

Thanks very much.

I just wanted to say I admire your work.

Thank you.

You're a model. I think you've read my poems.

Yes, I did. I'd rather not discuss it.

- But I thought you... - I what?

Nothing.

I'll speak to Regalis about your review. Tell your friends.

Thank you.

It's in the bag.

He said it's in the bag.

Jeanne just called. She's okay.

Good.

She wants to go away. See you.

Andr�...

- She mention me? - No. I'll tell her you said hi.

Go on home.

Know who I am?

Louise.

My nickname's Loulouse.

I have to get up.

Your place is damp.

Remember what you said last night?

Dunno. Weren't we drunk?

I figured as much.

I knew no one could fall in love with me.

Sex, sure, but no tender words.

I know I'm not pretty.

My family told me all the time. It sunk in.

They used to say I wasn't bright, either.

I'm not mad. It doesn't matter.

I have circles under my eyes.

Do you have an ideal?

In life? In love?

Both.

Sure I have one. And how!

I couldn't live without one.

What is it?

I dunno. It's my ideal.

I can't explain it.

You ask weird questions.

- Leaving? - Off to work.

You forgot what I do.

Actress?

Department store clerk.

Last night I got the rundown on what you do.

You write poetry.

I thought poets looked deep.

What's that mean?

Nothing special. What do I know?

I didn't mean to offend you.

A kiss? I'm off.

We won't make plans. We'll see.

So long, handsome Raoul.

Who is it?

Patricia! Now what do you want?

Jeanne!

Andr� said you were worried about me.

You're so pale. Come in.

Just for a minute.

- Where've you been? - I don't know.

- You went away with Andr�? - I didn't come for a grilling.

Patricia's pretty. The girl whojust left.

That wasn't Patricia. It's Lou...

Whoever. It smells hot and sweaty in here.

I've been thinking about you.

- I couldn't sleep. - That's sweet.

- Feel better? - Working on it.

It was great the last time... Kiss me?

I'm borrowing a country house. Come with me.

Why leave? Your place is fine.

It's so small. It's charming.

- We'll take walks in the woods. - What woods?

I dunno. If you get bored, we'll come home.

The country's not my thing. I won't stay.

It'll be just us two.

You're really nice.

So you'll come?

Okay. But first we make love.

I think I love you.

You're crazy.

Did I really love her?

I was tired of sex without love.

I'd met Jeanne. I liked her.

And she moved me.

I kept thinking: I love her, I want to love her.

But deep down I didn't know what I meant.

And she wouldn't love me.

I'd even bore her in no time.

She'd put up with me a while because I melted over her.

All that was artificial, meaningless.

Deep down it upset me.

It would have been easy to end it.

But my cowardice drew it out.

Darn! I was meeting Andr� tonight!

I have to call the poor guy.

Do you mind?

It's me.

Listen, I'm with Raoul.

We're going to relax in the country.

He was sweet enough to invite me.

Sure, I love you.

What?

When do we come back?

When we've had enough.

He says: When we're fed up.

I'll look out for myself.

Lots of kisses, everywhere.

The more Andr�'s love for Jeanne seemed real,

the more mine seemed to dwindle,

the result of a some passing urge.

But what did I really know about love?

I'd felt passionate love, I'd had lots of girls,

I'd felt elation and despair,

I'd had suicidal impulses,

I'd had pleasure, I'd had all I needed.

And what was left of all that?

A dull unsatisfaction.

I envied people who knew how to love simply.

I'm cold. And tired.

I want you.

It's not very nice here.

I love you.

Don't love me.

I don't love you. I couldn't even if I wanted to.

- I came to make you happy. - You feel nothing for me?

Look, we'll have a nice time here.

You'll have me all to yourself. Enjoy it.

Don't pout.

I really like your poems. They're beautiful.

Even if I don't always understand them.

- Why don't you like them anymore? - No reason.

Let's go to sleep.

- Sleep? - Come on.

Was I singing?

Isn't it ridiculous?

It's original.

I've done it since I was a kid.

It's a real pain. I feel stupid.

Since we're awake, we can cuddle up.

Sure.

How beautiful!

This mirror is a liar.

Behind the ugliness, I'm beautiful.

I'm beautiful and made for love.

Let me snuggle here. Just for a minute.

Then we'll wear ourselves out a bit.

I feel like it.

I'll go do some shopping.

Don't bother. I like pasta.

With tomato sauce.

In Paris I can only eat at 2 a.m. If at all.

It's the good air...

I was right to insist.

It may be Maxime.

Patricia.

No, I'm at a friend's.

No, I can't come.

I'll call you later, okay?

No, no one's singing.

Don't talk like that.

No, I'm not angry.

What? You're angry?

My cheeks are red. My nose, too.

It looks good on you.

Was I pretty this morning?

Tell me I'm prettier now.

- You're gorgeous. - You always exaggerate.

Funny, I'm so cold I can't feel your kisses.

You do act like you love me. Don't.

I'm not well and I do myself harm. I may not last the winter.

Kiss me again.

It'll be a nice memory.

Can you get it up in this cold?

I want to see your little dick get all blue.

I now felt vast, tender gratitude for Jeanne.

I was thankful to her for being pretty, for being here,

for being nice to me.

But I no longer hoped to love her.

And no hope was as sweet as hope.

Come over here. It's warm.

We're happy.

Yes, we're happy.

The two of us.

The two of us. No one's happier than we are.

No one.

Once again, Jeanne disappeared.

For a few days, I indulged my sorrow.

All my endless lyricism, all my irony...

It all came back to me for pale little Jeanne.

Was I sure I didn't love her?

Can you suffer that badly without loving?

Was it just wounded pride because she'd escaped me?

Why was I suddenly so horribly sad?

Why did I feel so Ionely?

Then, Andr� told me Jeanne was dead.

Leave me alone!

You'll catch cold.

Stop it!

Let go of me!

It's like new, don't you think?

It's perfect.

It's strange, seeing it on you.

I can take it off.

No. He hardly wore it.

Thanks so much, Veronique.

Don't thank me.

It's normal under the circumstances.

I'll bring it back tonight.

There's no hurry.

You look handsome in it.

I'll buy one when I can.

Save up.

Don't keep squandering.

Saving up. There's nothing duller.

True. But keep it in mind.

You coming?

- In a sec. - Too long!

Take a candy and be patient.

Candy! That's stupid!

Take this, too.

So you won't get cold.

I don't feel right.

Try it on.

Why don't you come see me anymore?

Did I do something wrong?

No, don't say anything.

If you feel like coming, come. Or don't come.

Don't come. It's better that way.

Anyway, I don't want to see you anymore.

Is it comfortable?

It suits you to a T.

Is it far?

We'll take a cab.

You don't have to come.

I do! The way you look, I can't let you go alone.

- We taking a cab or not? - Yes, why?

I'll get one, if you want.

If you want.

Can I ask you why you're going?

I don't know.

Why are you so worked up?

I don't know.

Did you love this girl?

I don't know.

You're a pain. You loved her or not?

That's what I want to know.

By going there?

Maybe.

You're not very clear.

It's too complicated for you.

Yeah, right.

Stop here.

Are we there?

What's up, then?

I know I won't stand it.

You ever see a dead person?

I haven't. It must be weird.

I don't know.

Don't you want to go home? Or see a movie?

Want me to tell you what I feel?

If you want to.

I like you. You're like a big brother.

But sometimes, I wish you were my father.

Other times, I want to marry you.

I'm not sure anymore. What do you think?

Pick one.

Me, pick?

Don't you have any preference at all?

I don't know.

Maybe that's the problem.

It's crummy bringing this up today.

- Kinda crummy? - Real crummy.

Okay.

Disappointment is awful.

What are you singing?

A song I sing when I'm sad.

Then I get even sadder.

That way, it becomes a poetic sadness.

Thanks for looking after me.

For what it's worth.

You angry?

We'll see.

Let's kiss?

On the mouth?

- Tomorrow, for your lesson? - I doubt it.

- Why not? - Just like that.

I thought you'd want to see her one last time.

You were right.

You all right?

Do you want anything?

A glass of water.

No, thank you.

This is Jeanne's father.

So you're her friend Raoul.

She was raving at the end. She kept mentioning you.

It's nice of you to come.

It's normal.

You know, it's been hard on her mother and me.

She refused to see us.

Every time we'd go into her room, she'd start to scream.

She hasn't let me kiss her in five years.

Before she died, I took her hand

and she said: "Are you crazy?"

It's enough to make you sick with grief.

You loved her very much?

Very much.

I think she loved you, too.

As best as she could.

You were luckier than I.

We both feel the same sorrow.

We could be friends.

Her two brothers. They're burying their sister.

Her last thoughts were for you.

I was sojealous.

You still mad at me?

It's awful dying when you love so many things.

I wanted to see her body again, touch it.

But I didn't dare.

Andr� wept real tears at my side.

I realized I felt nothing.

I suffered from emptiness.

I could only feel sorry for myself.

Jeanne was dead, it was over.

I didn't even know who she was,

if she'd loved me. But so what?

I could only sit there and take in her perfect beauty.

I'd never been so unsure of myself.

I'm not a monster. That's how I am.

But who am I, in fact, analyzing things,

while Andr� arranges her flowers and smoothes out her sheets?

People like me can be described as mimicking life

instead of living it.

They go through the motions,

they write books, weep over love,

or see their publishers, like Italian Pierrots.

They're not sincere: they mimic.

Then they realize they're hollow, that they don't exist.

But they keep mimicking, out of habit.

Or they try to dominate themselves,

striving by all means, and so...

they fail, or they succeed.

"People like me can be described as mimicking life,

"instead of living it.

"They go through the motions, write books,

"weep with love, or see their publishers,

"like Italian Pierrots.

"They're not sincere: they mimic.

"Then they realize they're hollow, that they don't exist.

"But they keep mimicking, by habit,

"or they try to dominate themselves,

"striving by all means, and so...

"they fail or they succeed."

Pretty dismal stuff! Does it sell?

Not bad.

It depresses me.

Jeanne reminds me of Fr�d�ric. Remember him?

Very well.

Had I known he'd die, I'd have slept with him.

- He wanted to. I feel bad. - You couldn't know.

But still... What're you up to now?

I suffer.

I'd have thought your book would cure you.

Me, too.

I read your book. It's beautiful.

It's your opinion.

It must be hard to go through that. I feel sorry for you.

Take your pity and stuff it! Beat it!

- You're mean! - He deserves it. Too nice! Gross!

Arnold!

So you're emotionally impotent.

Right. Not sexually.

Emotionally.

I don't believe you.

You don't believe me.

No, you seem to be made for love.

You have nice breasts. Can I touch?

- If I say yes? - I'd say thanks.

Thanks what?

Thanks, miss.

So, can I?

You smile so nicely when you can't answer.

You can't.

- I can't? - Right.

- You mean it? - Yes.

I'm intangible and pure.

You taking your pets to the party?

The poor things need me.

When it's green enough for you, go.

I want to write a film script.

That's a new one.

Like your book. A young man of the new century

from the most futile segment of society.

- What happens? - Nothing. He just hangs out.

- Promising. - I think so.

My favorite mute!

And your review piece?

I changed the title: "In Praise of Dust." Nice, no?

Sure. Just finish it now.

I'll consider it.

I plan to finish.

The day you finish something...

We'll both be amazed.

Let's celebrate that!

Take it easy. Raoul's turn!

The party's not here!

Sure it is! C'mon!

- C'mon. Spring's in the air! - Oh, yeah?

C'mon!

Alexandrine, you coming?

I have something to tell you.

I've been watching you lately.

I haven't spoken. I've been thinking.

Now I can tell you: you represent everything I hate most.

You're just a mediocre little Parisian.

Self-centered and shallow.

You're worthless.

I thought you could change.

But you never will.

You make me want to drown myself.

You trying to spoil what little love we have?

Take me home.

I want to sleep.

For goodness' sake. Take me home.

Call a taxi.

It's Vanessa.

Where are you?

Not far. I can see you.

I want to feel your body next to mine.

Where are you?

Keep going straight.

Straight ahead?

Come towards me.

I want you to take me now.

Feel how hot I am?

You're wet?

You'll lick me good.

First, my breasts.

Where are you?

Then my pussy. I know you have a hard-on.

Hurry up. I can't wait.

C'mon, Raoul!

Wait!

Hurry up, Raoul!

Vanessa, you hear me?

Cut this shit. Tell me where you are.

I can't hear a thing, shit!

It stopped.

It's the cold.

This is the end.

Everything's far away.

How far everything is.

My life went by long ago.

Will I still see any women?

I doubt it. It's all over.

Where to, mister?

I don't know.

I just drive?

Yes, drive.

Toward Paris?

Toward Paris.

Subtitles: C. Schoch - L. Borger

Processed by C.M.C. - Paris