Original subtitles

In the beginning, it was chaos,

then, the story of men began.

A beginning that is rather fishy,

then came the day by an obscure need to complicate his life,

men invented numbers.

Mathematical sciences led to everything,

providing you can get out of it.

That is why Christopher Columbus discovered America.

Since one is always punished for his bad deeds,

America, in revenge, discovered statistics.

Statistics,

what is it?

Mr. Larousse has given the straight definition:

"Statistics is a science that methodically gathers facts...

for the purpose of numerical "evaluation."

It seems to be the case for all facts.

Cabbage, toys, pebbles, owls, they're all included.

In the same fashion, a baby is born.

The portrait of his father.

According to statistics, who was waiting to dress him,

says he has a 49% chance of being a male...

49% chance of being a female,

and 2% chance of being... hesitant.

For censure purposes,

we'll avoid this particular subject...

to address that of the boy and the girl.

But who is interested in the boy? Nobody.

We're left with the girl, the woman to be.

Which angle will we analyze?

The only one that is won'th being analyzed,

the only one to be eternal,

that of love.

That is why we're presenting you...

LOVE AND THE FRENCH WOMAN

CHILDWOOD

Subtitles downloaded from www.OpenSubtitles.org

ADOLESCENCE

PURITY

MARRIAGE

ADULTERY

DIVORCE

THE SINGLE WOMAN

Love and the French woman.

A nice title,

for a broad problem.

Which French woman to choose, among 25 million.

The youthful grace of P�n�.

The generous proportions of Dubout?

The dynamic maturity of Faisan?

The rebellious mischievousness of Eiffen?

Well, no.

None of these French women,

but one who summarizes all, the middle-class French woman.

Charming creature, 5'7", from head to toe.

24" of waist,

33" of breast line,

33" of hip line.

You think that her measurements are not yours?

Possible.

Those were not yours,

but thanks to you, that's the statistics.

As a matter of fact,

recent statistics are as supple as youth.

No, you shouldn't stare at people.

You shouldn't.

- Yes! - No!

Do your homework first.

Hello, everyone.

- Hello, Mrs. Basouche. - Hello, Mrs. Tronche.

I am going to buy some salt. I've forgotten again.

If my boyfriend comes before me, please give him the key.

- Of course. - Thank you.

How are babies born?

Why do you want to know?

Wort you finish your homework?

- We'll have to think about it. - To what?

- To Gisele. - To Gisele?

Why should I think about her? I don't get it.

Did you hear her question?

She's puzzled.

We'll have to explain it to her. That's her age.

Age? Gisele?

Tell me, Daddy,

where are babies from?

Will you stop it?

I am reading a very serious article.

Me, I know.

What do you know?

Babies come from the mothers' bellies.

Will you stop it, poor child!

What have you invented?

Who taught you that?

Go play outside. I need the table.

You see? If you don't explain it to her, someone will.

Then she'll develop hang-ups.

What can I tell her? All she has to do is observe.

Observe what? Crooked man!

What are they teaching her at school?

I am the one to do the math homework.

Mrs. Basouche?

- My boyfriend didn't come home? - I didn't see him.

- Here's your key. - Thank you.

Come in for a moment.

I wanted to consult you regarding...

babies, where they come from...

How did you learn?

- How? - Yes.

Coming from a policeman, this is a funny question.

It's about Gisele. She seems to be concerned.

She wants to know.

I have to tell her something.

How did you find out?

Babies? When I had my first.

Your first?

By the second, I knew it all.

- But before? - Before?

- It wasrt very important. - I see.

- Come to think about it. - Yes.

That's not true! Those are parents' lies!

I've seen babies in people's bellies.

You want to bet?

Little rascal! I'll tell your parents.

You're right in a way.

Sir?

- I need information. - Hello, teacher.

Ladies, my homework to you.

I hope you'll find no mistake in them.

That's very slick of you, sir.

One must joke every once in a while.

So, M. Basouche.

My modest lights are all ears.

Gisele asked me, "How are babies born?"

What should I say?

The truth.

Really?

He's right.

Give a scientific explanation, a clear perspective.

Scientific, I'll agree.

I don't know where to start.

Start at the beginning.

Where is the beginning?

Wait! Let's pretend.

I am Gisele.

And you, my father.

With all due respect,

I presume we don't have children?

I ask you, "Daddy, where are babies from?"

What is your answer?

I will tell you, "My little Gisele..."

Your uniform is rather intimidating.

I feel good in it. What do you want me to do?

Gisele's beret.

And her bag.

Is that good?

This is pure comedy.

Tonight, we're improvising.

So, I'll tell you, my little Gisele,

Yes, Daddy.

Nature is very mysterious.

I'll agree. How would you explain that on Mondays,

the fish is never quite good.

Didrt you notice?

Mysteries, which in fact, are a phenomenon. Do you understand?

Yes, Daddy.

My darling - it's funny-

the most wonderful, yet the most natural thing...

is the reproduction system.

- I won't tell her that. - Why not?

She'll mock me.

It's either you want to give her scientific facts,

or stories from old maids.

Scientific, Eugene, we'll do what's necessary.

He's right.

So, one day,

the man goes to the woman.

This is disgusting.

One would think you're talking about a bull.

The man is the bull.

Mr. Dufieu.

You want me to tell those bull stories to my daughter?

Come on.

It's quite a discussion you have going!

Ms. Lulu,

taking a walk?

Yes, as usual.

You're coming at the right time.

What can I tell to my little girl on babies birth?

What's your opinion as a ball player?

I was told that they were found in strawberry fields.

I liked it.

Strawberry fields?

That's what they used to say, back home.

- Where? - At Plougastel.

I should have known.

The bagpipes and all...

If you prefer the scientific facts, according to Plougastel,

It's your choice, Mr. Basouche.

It's your choice.

What do you have to say against Plougastel?

Where are you from, anyway?

What's the interest?

Go ahead. Say it.

From Aveyron.

Aveyron. Gossip land.

Gossip?

Is that what you're saying?

She said it, and you let her?

Well, that's good. Good.

So, go about helping one another,

that's it for me.

He doesn't seem happy.

Hello, Basouche.

Any letters?

What's going on?

We were talking about sexual initiation.

Interesting.

Mr. Basouche was gathering information.

He's still not informed?

But, Mrs. Basouche,

It's concerning our little Gisele.

She's asking questions to her father.

Our friend Basouche is embarrassed?

Basouche, how about the butterflies?

The butterflies?

The butterflies.

You seem not to understand.

Tell Gisele, "Look at the butterflies,

see how they do."

How do they do?

Like men.

- The butterflies? - Certainly.

That's what I did for my son.

I was taking a walk in the woods of Vincennes,

I love the woods of Vincennes,

we were deep into the forest,

I love the forest,

what do I see?

A couple, entangled, doing what you must imagine.

Some people have no respect!

I told my son,

look at the butterflies. It's exactly the same thing.

He understood perfectly. The proof?

Three months later, our maid was pregnant.

For him?

- How old was he? - Who?

Your son.

Between 22 and 23.

So?

The cabbage, Eugene. That's the only solution.

That's what I was told.

And I remained an honest woman.

- Lf you think so... - Yes.

Go get her.

Come, Gisele.

Not you, Jaja, you're not old enough.

Come, my little angel.

Here.

Listen to me.

You know what a cabbage is?

- Cabbage. - Yes.

Well,

babies...

Are you listening?

Babies come from cabbage.

And cabbages are harvested in autumn,

when the soil is wet and all the snails are out.

Wait!

- What is it? - You've dropped a baby.

- A what? - A baby!

It seems that they hit a child.

- A child? - Maniac!

Let's find out.

I didn't see a child!

There! On the street.

What horsepower is your jalopy?

What?

What horsepower is your jalopy?

In there, there's probably a baby.

You shouldn't let it hang about the streets.

In the cabbage? A baby?

Is that a joke? We are in a rush!

Giles, some respect for childhood.

Thank you.

We could have lost it.

He's going to be scared.

Come.

I know it's not true. Babies come from people's bellies!

I'll teach you! Little rascal!

Come, let's go.

You see, Jaja, you should never tell lies.

I am not lying. You're crazy!

Goodbye, my jewel.

Goodbye, my love.

See you tomorrow, my little cabbage.

- You'll get her pregnant. - Excuse me?

I said you'll get her pregnant.

I know it's not true!

You're going to get it!

I won't let them insult you! Just wait.

- It's you. It's your fault. - Mr. Victor!

What is it?

Your daughter just insulted us.

She made some salacious remarks.

Salacious?

Impossible! I don't know what it means.

Neither do I.

I was there with Angele, and your daughter said,

"You'll get her pregnant."

Me!

My daughter Gisele?

I am sure she did not learn that by herself.

She heard it.

And from whom, please?

I sometimes visit Angele when her parents are not there.

It's not your affair!

The impatience of the heart! Have you heard about that?

Mr. Victor, watch your mouth!

How about tenants crisis?

Excuse me!

Mrs. Basouche has made her little comments

in front of her daughter.

Arert you ashamed?

- I bribed you. - Please, Mr. Victor.

He bribed you?

Mr. Victor, I swear that I never...

You mean those are her ideas. She has quite a future!

Did you do anything... daring?

On my scooter?

I am not an acrobat.

I was 10 feet away.

Why would I do that?

I was there, nicely, I said, "Goodbye, my jewel.

Goodbye, my little cabbage."

- That's it. - What?

"My little cabbage"

- What little cabbage? - You just mentioned it.

I was talking about Angele.

But you said, "Goodbye, my little cabbage."

That's it. The cabbage.

- One can't say that? - No.

- Is it forbidden? - Yes.

- Is there a rule against it? - Yes.

You chatterbox!

Eugene, we'll have to find something else.

We'll have to find something else, but what?

The complicity of the adults in confusing the children...

creates a chaotic imagination...

where flora and wildlife are present.

When finally we decide to tell the truth,

the children are old enough to make their own discoveries,

thus, the unveiling of new problems, to which parents...

will have to find other answers.

If the young girls you see here...

Ioosening their joints,

don't know very well how babies are born,

there's always one who is doing her adolescence internship.

This deep change of the soul,

that would make a boy buy an an electric razor...

is shown, in the girl, by the abrupt change in clothing.

Women are like that.

They manage to stack logic, metaphysics, psychoanalysis

in the smallest of closets.

A pair of nylons, and baby says goodbye to the ungrateful age.

There are, however, some poor fellows,

who'll be caught off their guards,

by this transformation.

It concerns you.

Instead of watching sales tax stability,

you'd be better off watching youth instability.

Are you not the father?

They're all the same.

What thrills them about their new radio

are the buttons.

The voice of wisdom is strangled to titillation.

Do you know the time?

It was 6:15, 10 minutes ago.

Bichette hasn't come home yet.

She's probably with a friend.

I admire your calm, but I am worried.

You see accidents everywhere.

Your daughter is 5 minutes late, you imagine her under a scooter.

Not necessarily under, but on top.

Neither under, nor on.

But not far.

The studious Bichette has discovered math.

And Jack, a life saver, has Einsteirs eyes,

with curly hair.

The root of an equation, is the value of the unknown...

for which the equation becomes...

A numerical identity.

For now, all that is very good.

If only the street will leave them alone.

The street, that sex maniac,

that exhibitionist.

The street, where orgies are rotating in color,

when it's not with 24 images per second...

in dark movie theaters,

Mr. The secretary of state, will forgive us,

but even fine arts have a role to play.

At Bichette's age,

curiosity is driven at the highest speed.

After all, we're not of stone, and the bad examples...

are always the best ones.

Watching others kissing fills us with that universal...

tenderness.

You, of course, are not interested,

at least, not yet.

Do you hear me?

You're home!

It's been a while.

Why are you rubbing your mouth?

I have ink spots.

Edouard, that's it.

I was just telling him.

I must inform you that your daughter just kissed someone.

Who?

A boy, of course.

My God, it's crazy.

My Bichette?

I am afraid she is no longer yours.

I just caught her rubbing her lips.

Maybe she simply...

I remember something similar, and I gave the same answer.

From that age on, it's never ink.

At her age, you were kissing boys. Congratulations.

- It's about your daughter. - Stop it!

You won't shut me and hide from the voice of your conscience...

at the turn of a button.

We'll have to take action.

There are two solutions.

As always.

- The hard way. - Or be on her side.

Never! Bend in front of a child?

Out of the question.

To begin with, we'll suppress all parties, etc.

We've seen cheaters before.

I am sorry, but your mother has decided...

that I should watch you closely.

Why?

Go ask her.

In fact, you could discuss that on Sunday. You'll stay with us.

The result?

I am going to be confined at home,

medieval times are back.

Forget about going dancing on Sunday.

I won't see you anymore?

Yes, all you have to do is kidnap me.

Kidnap you?

You don't want to?

Sure.

You are afraid?

No.

Swear that you will and kiss me.

I swear.

When you're not born to be a Spartan-father,

there are some difficult moments to overcome.

The role of the naive father has more charm,

and is more practical.

My Bichette.

I am asking for your candor, your loyalty.

Can we trust you?

You have a blackhead.

Leave my ear alone.

- Are you mad at me? - No. I am serious.

If I let you go to that dance, will you behave?

You promise?

You have reasoned with her.

You're happy about yourself.

Fairly, yes.

Let's see the results.

Come and help me.

What's going on?

They're looking for a war, they got it.

If they are trainers, that won't work with me.

You have a lot of guts.

- You like that? - Very much.

So, kiss me.

Here we go,

the advantage of having parents is to be against them.

The perfect attitude would be easy-going, without being soft.

To be good and yet not stupid.

Very good.

Concerning this dance,

I've made up my mind. Would you like to know?

Since you made your decision already.

You found no other solution, but to let her go.

I just found a better solution. We'll go with her.

Watch without her knowing. That's a good method.

What are you thinking about, dear lady?

To your father, maybe?

When I see that, I have some regrets.

We could have trusted her more.

Be careful, my father's looking.

She's nothing like this little hooker.

She's not even 15.

"Time, stop your trip.

"Hour, stop your course.

"Let us enjoy the beauty

of the greatest of our days."

It's beautiful.

You have to be fair, there are some dumbbells.

She probably has all sorts of hang ups, poor thing.

What's good about that lipstick, it doesn't smear.

I wonder if the example is not the best teacher.

That's probably why Bichette behaves so well.

We set the good example.

Not because she's our kid, but look at her.

It is reassuring.

What's reassuring is that she never dances with the same boy.

Believe me.

Forgive me, Edouard. I'll steal Lucienne for a minute.

Womers talk.

Lucienne, we mothers have to help each other.

Your daughter flirts a little too much.

How?

It's simple. She kisses the boys on the lips.

What are you saying?

How do you know?

My son told me.

That always happens that way.

The girls kiss and the boys brag about it.

Later, the adults will not change.

Listen, I am your mother, you have to tell me.

The boys you kiss, do they mean something to you?

You like them?

No.

You must feel something.

No.

- So you just kiss them? - Yes.

Cold-bloodedly?

Yes, no, just like that, for fun.

For fun?

It's not possible.

Listen to me, darling,

I understand life. I was your age.

I must admit that some nights,

on a terrace, with soft music,

the ocean near,

you feel dizzy.

You think you love the one that holds you.

You might give him your lips.

Kissing can be justified by tenderness.

- Do you understand? - Yes, I do.

You'll have to behave differently with these boys.

Yes, mom.

Now, I'll try to love them.

Let's not be scared of words. My daughter behaves...

like a little whore.

I am the father of a little whore.

Let's not exaggerate. I almost regret I told you.

This is a disarming age.

We should not make the mistake of trying to understand...

using our logic.

Would you explain to me why she's behaving like...

the others.

You just said it.

They like to do like the others.

There are other things as well, such as,

being in style, competition, very strong at this age.

Conformist as well. The one who feels she has to kiss a boy...

because it's a thing to do,

thus the duty-kiss.

Let's not forget, the kiss-record.

- How many? - 26! I beat you!

You will not compare Alairs kisses that last one second...

to that of Rene that last 15 minutes.

With all that, a little narcissism.

We discover and love ourselves.

You seemed to remember your first kiss the other day.

Did you feel anything?

Feel anything? No.

It gave me confidence.

Self-confidence.

I had freckles, and some pimples.

I thought I was ugly.

I had a feeling of success.

I noted it in my diary.

Ah, we had forgotten that one. The diary.

They always have to write what's in their hearts.

"Wednesday, I met him near the fountain.

"He smiled at me, like the day before.

"I am sure to love this one.

He has the eyes of Becaud."

...The line that joins the middle...

It was you. You frightened me.

He gave it to me this morning.

Let me see.

Diary, letters, pictures, records,

all these accessories of first love.

They'd like us to believe that those little rats...

are sentimental.

Of course.

That's right.

The impulses of the heart in the youth's imagination

can reach enormous proportions, with the help of movies.

What are they dreaming of, the little French girls of 1960?

To the splendor of Her Majesty.

That's what the heirs of '89 are thinking about.

When they are in love, they're not dreaming of the Queen,

but the Prince.

The Prince Charming.

The statistics are set.

38.5% of the French female adolescents...

are dreaming of the Prince Charming.

Of course, the Prince Charming may have numerous facets...

with one common base: The uniform.

Civilians are admitted if they drive 120 mph.

Mass production cars are not allowed.

Insensibly, the charm champion is made.

The sports slang, mixed with romance,

the Bichettes will fall for a small wonder, Dean-style,

of a black lightning Tony Syler style,

or a mountain angel, Charlie Goal-style.

Essentially, the Prince has to wear the yellow T-shirt.

He's the champion in everything,

in competition with Oppeneimer, as well as...

Mr. Muscles,

or the Jockey club president.

ARTISTS ENTRANCE

In brief, the Prince Charming, is above all, the star.

Yet, if the Prince Charming was to become a man.

A man. A real one.

Help!

Well, yes. The man is above all a fierce adversary.

The adolescent is looking for a reassuring image of love.

"The most beautiful

"Of love

Dreams."

An idealized image, even sublime.

When they're not falling in love with their confessors,

they're falling for their teachers.

Algebra Exam

First, Bichette Martin.

In fact, they're crazy.

Were you like that?

In love with Tony Syler and Charlie Goal?

For me, it was Haley and Magne.

I am living among mythomaniacs and obsessed people.

You didn't understand, my poor Edward.

Bichette is living the age of innocent dreams...

and shy modesty.

Bichette, shy?

She spends her time rolling her hips and shaping her breast...

which she doesn't have.

That's not the point.

That's being provocative.

At her age, I used to stuff my bras with cotton.

Well, we're proud of our bodies, but yet it frightens us.

Michelle, please remove that slip.

I am fine like that.

Come on.

They're all the same.

I don't understand my mom,

you think its OKthat I show my body to this guy...

just because he's a doctor?

- The panties, too? - Of course.

Mom is astounding.

I am forbidden to wear a low cut shirt,

but yet she wants me to undress in front of a stranger.

The age, despite of all obvious contradictions.

Isn't it the same Bichette...

the following summer...

Well, is it Bichette?

Ms. Bichette.

- Hello, Doctor. - Hello, Ms. Bichette.

I was looking for someone to offer me a gin and tonic.

Living nude is fun, but it's dehydrating.

Those fevers, do you still get them?

Bichette is moving.

With that pace, we will soon be leaving the ungrateful age.

When the ungratefulness fades, altruism appears.

These young ladies will discover they're not alone,

thus, will create games, where, unlike music and reading,

a partner is necessary.

Follow me, young man.

This new guest is called love.

A couple is born.

No, no. That's all you can say.

If you find me so repugnant, we shouldn't continue.

I don't find you repugnant at all.

On the contrary,

you should see your face when I try to touch you.

You, too.

I don't understand.

You, too. You have a funny face when that occurs.

As if that was the only thing that matters to you.

As a matter of fact, that's true.

After all, I am a man. I love you.

I've been with you for a year. I "respected" you!

Don't be so loud. I am not deaf.

I've had it!

You have no reason to refuse.

Are we getting married or not?

- Yes. - So?

You don't trust me?

Of course.

You're afraid that I'll leave you after?

That's not the reason.

Then, what is it?

I don't know.

It is a very important thing.

I don't want to make any mistake before I marry.

Mistakes. You're just stupid.

When I take a mistress, you'll tell me about it.

You'll take a mistress?

Believe me, there are plenty of pretty girls at the plant.

Don't stand on ceremony, go ahead.

If you're going to use that tone, I will.

Well, it's 11:30. I have to go. Bye.

You don't kiss me?

I don't feel like it.

Will you call me tomorrow at work?

I can't sleep because of your father.

His snoring is frightening.

Did you have fun?

Yes.

- We went dancing. - Do it while you can.

The engagement period is the most beautiful one.

Wait until you get married.

It's not tomorrow that we'll get married.

With the little he makes, he has to care for his mother.

You should see the atmosphere at his house.

It's not a party.

Thank God you're there to entertain him.

Exactly... I don't entertain him enough.

What do you mean?

Nothing.

Your fianc� has propositioned you?

Has he asked you to be his mistress?

He asked nothing.

You know, Fran�ois, he'd never propose such thing.

Mom!

That's it. Your father is awake.

Good night, darling.

- I am not rubbing too hard? - No.

It's very pleasant.

So, Mr. Masoni, as usual? Not too short on the sides?

Exactly.

Ginette, prepare for the rinsing.

- Not too much blue. - Yes, Sir.

Who? Ms. Ginette?

Ms. Ginette is busy, Sir.

I am sorry.

Fran�ois?

Wait a minute.

Are you OK?

Yes. And you?

I am fine.

Can we see each other tonight?

Yes, maybe.

8:00, at the usual place.

Yes, very good.

See you tonight.

- He called you, didn't he? - Yes.

- You're seeing him tonight? - Yes.

So, what have you decided?

I haven't decided yet.

"I will, I won't, I will..."

Don't make fun of her.

It is quite a problem for a girl to lose her virtue.

- Really? - Not for you.

Why? I was once a virgin like everybody.

It seems so far away!

I was such a bore back then.

I remember not wanting to see him afterwards.

Why?

Because I hated it.

Really?

Maybe you didn't love him.

It seems that it's different when you're in love.

You think so? I was crazy about this boy.

I don't know, I had imagined things about it.

I imagined it differently.

It is true that the first is always disappointing,

then you get used to it,

and finally find it very pleasant.

You'll see.

Poor thing. She is frightened.

She makes me think of my grandmother.

On her honeymoon, she was so scared, she hid on a balcony.

Can you imagine?

My grandmother running in her nightgown,

my grandfather, drunk, running after her.

For me, it was in a hotel.

We had an agreement that I'd spend the whole night.

I didn't want it to last 5 minutes, you see?

I wanted a whole night.

I was still living with my parents,

Imagine, spending the night out!

What did you tell them?

Some stupid story.

Parents are willing to believe anything!

They always believe us.

- Good evening, mom. - Hello, darling.

You'll never believe what happened to me.

What happened?

The salon is taking us to Deauville for a gala.

Deauville?

There will be many customers over there.

So the salon asked that I help them.

When will you go?

Tonight to return tomorrow morning.

I sleep over there and we return in the morning.

This trip could be very tiring.

I didn't dare to refuse. They asked for a favor.

- Are you traveling by train? - By car.

The boss is taking us.

I have to rush, we're leaving in half an hour.

Can you wait for five minutes? I need to change.

How much are they paying you?

- Did they tell you? - Some overtime at the next pay.

And we're not even sure.

Our boss is so stingy.

For working at night, they could do something.

Yes, maybe.

Mom, if you stay here, I'll never be ready.

What are you doing, Mom?

Preparing your suitcase.

I have your warm nightgown. It is very cold in Deauville.

But it is horrible.

It is not important. No one will see it.

- You want to dance? - Yes.

This suitcase is yours?

It's nothing.

My mother's stuff.

I didn't have time to go home.

You're the prettiest here.

And you, the most handsome man.

That is not the truth.

You don't have classical features.

That's not what I am looking for in a man.

Can you tell me what you're looking for?

I don't know.

What time is it?

You're not going home. It's only 10:30 p.m.

Just asking.

Ginette, I have to take you home.

No, one last minute.

But it is very late.

I have something to tell you.

What?

Here.

- I thought about last night. - Let's not talk about it.

On the contrary, let's talk about it.

Since we love each other, and we're getting married anyway,

why should we go on like that?

What exactly do you mean?

Well...

I have decided to spend the night with you.

What?

Now, immediately?

Is that how you react?

I thought you'd like that.

Of course, but it was not expected.

Did you think about your mother?

What will she say if you don't come home?

Don't worry. I took care of everything.

Where will we go?

To a hotel.

I don't feel comfortable taking you there.

We'd like a room, please.

For a moment or for the night?

For the night.

Good. I'll get you one.

Follow me, please.

Here. Good night.

You should have asked for the price.

Just for once, it's not important.

A room like that must be expensive.

Don't you want to remove your coat?

Yes.

I forgot to ask you about your mother.

She's fine, thank you.

The doctor gave her a new prescription.

Come in.

I forgot to ask you to fill out these forms.

Give them back to me tomorrow before you leave.

Should we get undressed and go to bed?

You're incredible.

Why?

I am shocked. I didn't expect you to be that way.

How am I?

- Different. - So are you.

You seem intimidated.

It's true. I am very nervous to be in this room with you.

We can always leave.

Do you want us to leave?

No.

I can't anyway. I told my mother I'd be in Deauville.

You have dragged this bag all night, and I hadrt a clue.

I didn't know how to tell you.

I was waiting to be propositioned...

as usual.

Myself, I had taken some great resolutions.

I had decided to wait for a year if necessary.

Is it true?

I swear.

It's always good to know each other well.

Say, you don't have a pajama?

- No. - What will you do?

You could catch a cold sleeping nude?

How many covers are there?

Three.

- That'll do. - Yes.

The pillows are very soft.

Could we turn off the big lamp and keep the small one on?

Of course.

Done.

Wait. I am going to change.

You should get undressed while I am gone.

You can lie down, if you want.

I am so frustrated.

My nightgown is so ugly.

- It is not important. - Of course it is.

I have another one that suits me very well.

I am ready.

I decided not to wear my nightgown.

You're not undressed?

Would you like me to?

No.

Not now.

Fran�ois, you'll think I am stupid, but I am scared.

I don't even want to kiss you.

My love, do you know what we'll do?

Yes, I know.

Well, I think you don't.

I've decided that nothing will happen between us tonight.

- Nothing at all? - Nothing.

We'll talk, we'll tell each other stories,

we'll play cards, whatever you want...

but that, we'll do it some other time.

When you will feel like it.

Tomorrow morning, maybe?

If you want.

Now that I know it won't happen immediately, I feel better.

Kiss me.

We could still kiss again, couldn't we?

Before we sleep.

If you want.

Stop me when you have enough.

- Do you promise? - I promise.

Kiss me.

Many women make... some mistakes before they marry...

which leave us with a small percentage of virgins.

That is true. We know that.

Though 90% arrive, dressed in white, at City Hall.

Why?

Come on, to please us.

Wait a minute. Mathematically speaking...

I told you 90%. It is a number, isn't it?

Mathematics are about numbers, isn't it?

Since we're talking about numbers,

we'll mention that one of five women get married...

for love.

EXPRESS TO PARIS

Sir? Sir? I have the pictures!

- Here we are. - Here we are.

Be careful.

To what? We're married.

Are you sure?

Since seven hours and 45 minutes!

It seemed longer.

What a day!

I decided never to get married again. It's too tiring.

Tickets, please.

What time will we arrive in Paris?

9:40 p.m.

We have 2:25 hours to go.

If we make it on time.

Not today! I hope we'll make it on time.

Don't turn it off.

I meant good.

- We didn't need light. - I didn't see the pictures yet.

Look how moved Mom looks.

- Moved... - And Dad...

Don't you find them both young?

Really young.

That's my cousin. Isn't she pretty?

Very pretty.

Everybody thought she was the prettiest.

Certainly.

How about me?

You were the bride.

When you're married, you don't count anymore?

What I meant is that your cousin was the prettiest...

next to you.

How about my sister?

- Your sister? - Wasrt Colette pretty?

- Delicious. - Did you see her dress?

- Wonderful. - Her hat?

Not bad.

You don't like her hat?

- I'd say... - You don't like it.

No.

Too bad. We chose it together.

With hats... it's all about taste.

So, Colette and I have no taste.

- Who said that? - You did.

Darling, we won't argue over your sister's hat...

on our wedding day.

No. We won't argue.

- Never? - I swear.

Darling, do you know what I'd like?

No.

That you grow a mustache.

Really? That'll take time.

We have a whole life ahead of us.

We're married, aren't we?

Very married.

I am sleepy. I wish I was in my bed.

You can smoke, you know.

- I am not in a rush. - I know you.

You don't tolerate the smoke.

You're too nervous when you don't.

I'll go in the hallway, then.

I'll sleep for a while.

Do you like this one?

I saw it before. You were wearing it.

You didn't say anything.

I didn't have the time.

Now, you have time.

Do you like it?

Turn so I can see.

You're ravishing.

I am not talking about myself, but the...

- I like it very much. - You're lying already!

On our wedding day!

What did you want me to say?

Nothing, darling. Go finish your cigarette.

- Listen to me. - I told you that I will sleep.

Your attention please. We're about to leave.

Is that yours?

Yes. I am sorry.

Charming hat.

Can I offer you a cigarette?

I don't smoke, Sir.

- May I? - Please do.

No smoking.

I asked Mademoiselle...

But not mine.

Please, forgive me, Sir.

I wish you happiness, Madame.

A young bride shouldn't smile to everybody, you know.

And a groom, should he smile to all the women?

When did I smile?

The lady with the cigarette!

"Can you light my cigarette, Sir?"

Certainly, Madame.

You seemed happy. You were courteous.

This isn't the same thing.

So men have all the rights?

Don't look. I am ugly when I cry.

No.

- I wasrt really upset. - Of course, you werert.

I don't know what happened.

You're tired, unnerved...

Remember what the mayor said?

"Marriage is an everyday victory."

"A victory on selfishness...

"...that requires sacrifices...

"...that will lead...

...to a perfect union."

You must think, "With that one, I am not so sure."

Don't start crying again.

If you have regrets, you can always divorce.

It's still early.

Yes.

It hasn't been 12 hours since we've been married.

10 hours, 16 minutes.

Leave your watch.

Wait a minute.

Allow me.

What's taking this train so long!

You're bored already?

I feel good with you here.

I would like to be elsewhere with you.

Me too.

No. I was wrong.

You don't need a mustache.

Remove.

Let me see.

So? Where you sleeping?

It's your train that's sleeping, not us.

Where are we?

We arrived 20 minutes ago.

- In Paris? - Yes.

Darling, we are in Paris.

But wait...

Porter?

Sir?

You're forgetting your cigarettes.

But I don't smoke.

- I don't smoke anymore. - Incredible!

Such a small sacrifice.

After the marriage, the family tends to expand.

No! Remove the children. What we're about to say...

is not suitable to their ears.

The character that comes into play...

is the seducer, the wily, the lover.

Unless it's the other, the seductress, the vamp,

the mistress.

The intrusion of one doesn't prevent the other's.

This theory could clear the way to the worst abuse.

We won't make it ours.

In fact, clear the tray, we need it.

Me quitting now!

I will leave service now!

That's right. Leave service of Sir now, Mrs. Kokolowski.

Ankolowsky, please.

As you like.

Madame is served.

Hurry up. I am late.

I have an appointment at 9:00.

You should have asked me to wake you up.

Amusing. Hilarious.

Poor darling, how do you wake someone up,

when you cannot wake up yourself?

You should have told the maid, she doesn't have much to do.

We don't have one. I just kicked her out.

What?

I was tired of seeing that woman, what's more, Polish,

coming late every morning.

I mentioned it to her.

She replied that she had plenty of job offers,

and that I only had to say one word.

So I said it.

- That's not true! - Sure.

If everyone spoke his mind, the world would be a bloody one!

Bloody. Come on. They have that tendency to exaggerate.

I kicked out a rude Polish woman.

It is as if I erased Poland off the world map.

Jean-Claude?

Jean-Claude?

Stop gargling and listen to me!

What do you say?

Nothing.

It's unbelievable.

How the best man can change in 5 years.

In the beginning of our marriage,

he listened to me, before I even opened my mouth.

I will call the employment office this afternoon,

by tomorrow, you'll have a maid.

"A maid..."

Really? That's incredible!

That's not incredible. I can do that for you.

I am not talking about that. Listen, this is funny!

Is the French woman happy in love?

"A public survey reveals that...

"20% of women have cheated on their husbands

and 33% acknowledge that adultery could be an option."

We have 47% of liars.

20 plus 33, plus 47 equals 100%.

It is not funny, it's nasty.

It is simple, adultery, confessed or not,

should be condemned in the same manner as...

theft or tax fraud.

I'll give you that. But an honest woman who cheats...

Honest? A woman that cheats is not honest.

She's a slut...

or a prostitute.

She could also be a victim, a misunderstood.

An unsatisfied.

Your victims and unsatisfied are crowding

the clubs and the tea bars.

Can you tell what a woman, who has a home,

is doing in a club or a tea bar at 5 p.m.?

She's having tea.

That's what they do at tea bars.

Never!

Unless you're 65 years old!

Even then!

When you have nobody to cheat, you cheat your hunger,

by gulping pastries.

You're right.

I said you're right.

You are an example of a husband.

And me, the perfect wife.

Today is an important date!

A once in a lifetime thing happened to me today.

Today, two hours ago, I turned 29.

What can I say, my poor baby. We're all getting old.

He could have said, "29 years old?

You'll always be the same to me."

We get used up, we get old, and before we know it...

we're dead. You'll see.

It's from Agatha.

Goodbye, darling.

He's such a lout! What a monster!

You have finished, Sir. Sit down.

Make-up!

Get me all this side...

- You have a phone call, Sir. - Who?

- Your wife. - I'll be back.

Good morning, Darling.

One moment.

They're ready.

For the shampoo-mousse, for the brillantine.

What's going on?

I am informing you that you just offered me a beautiful coat

in Moher wool, hand made.

That's in style.

I am not greedy. I invite you to the theater or the movies.

My poor darling, we're having dinner with with Marssac.

Maybe, but half of France uses Savonette to wash.

The shows, these days...

It's simple. There's nothing won'th seeing.

Not necessarily. They say Marssac is getting rich...

It's a lie.

A monstrous lie.

You're smart, you'll understand.

All soaps are the same, since they're manufactured...

with the same basic products.

The trick is adding perfume.

Me? I do not add perfume. That's my secret.

A soap that smells like soap.

Now, we need publicity. That's your domain.

Patience, little lady. One more question...

and we'll change the subject.

However,

dear Mr. Perret, if you give me a discount...

let's say... 35%...

But wait, the deficit will be for my firm.

Excuse us. We'll soon talk about something else.

His hair is messy, but...

it is wanted.

Casual... a little too much.

Charming, in a modern way.

He pretends that he's joking, to show his beautiful teeth.

She's pretending that she's bored...

to attract attention.

She has a cute nose. The rest cannot be bad.

Little modern bourgeoise.

She thinks she's emancipated, but still reads Goncourt.

She has a passion for the independence of Congo...

and coupons.

- Nicole! - Excuse me.

Wake up. Mr. Marssac asked if you wanted escargots?

No, thank you.

Six oysters for Madame, and for us, 3 dz. Of escargots.

Did you see?

This guy is staring at me as if I were Brigitte Bardot.

Are your lobsters fresh?

They came today, Sir.

These places are full of gigolos looking for opportunities.

That was very awkward.

He could have replied, "It's normal, you're so beautiful."

In fact, he's not looking at you,

but this cute little blonde behind you.

This is very, very, very awkward.

What will Madame have after the oysters?

Anything with steamed potatoes.

More steamed potatoes for Madame?

No. I am finished.

I am sure that she can eat for four.

But she knows I am looking at her.

When they know that, these ladies nibble.

Excuse me, please.

I am up for a record.

If he tries to talk to me,

I'll put him in his place.

I hate those manners.

She's pretending going to the powder room,

typical.

Tell me,

this guy, earlier,

the one who was staring at "the cute little blonde,"

he asked me for a rendezvous.

No.

Are you shocked?

One of those parasites that have nothing better to do.

Things could have gone back to place...

if Jean-Claude had replied,

"I hope you said that you worshipped your husband."

I'd reply "yes," and that would be the end of the matter.

It is one thing or the other,

that I had lied,

or that I had indeed a rendezvous,

and the only solution was to attend.

Hello.

I didn't think you'd come.

Neither did I.

Thank you, anyway.

Thank you.

You shouldn't be thanking me.

Never mind.

What are you drinking?

Tomato juice.

I'll have a scotch.

A scotch.

I hate fruit juices.

Me too. But with married women, there's one recipe:

Being sober, innocent, and foolish.

You'll think that I am a boy scout.

I give up. Barman! Two scotch.

I am warning you,

when I start, I drink 10, one after the other.

Recipe number two, for difficult people,

play the gullible fool.

But that is an advanced level class.

Do you know how wonderful you are?

Thank you.

Truly wonderful.

He's repeating himself, but he's nice.

In fact, a boy that age doesn't need too much imagination.

Thank you.

What's her name? What does she do?

Where is she from?

These are the questions I've been asking myself...

since last night.

My name is Nicole.

Like my sister. An extraordinary girl.

The name has to do with it, maybe.

If I had a sister, she could very well be named, "Nicole."

My name is Giles.

You don't dislike it too much?

Not at all.

How old can he be?

He cannot look so young.

Especially with these eyes.

They're strong. I will get lighter ones.

She thinks that I am an altar boy. That's perfect.

It's better to pass for an angel than for Casanova.

The Little Seducer's Manual, They know it all.

Gallimard published it.

A pack of Lucky.

DANGEROUS LIAISONS

The first day, to dissipate doubts,

we went to see a rated R movie,

The second day, a detective film.

The third day, a modern movie.

One must live in his time.

Time that we began to find rather long.

The fourth day, no movie, no ice cream bar...

Something was going to happen.

We haven't spent time alone.

I mean, without the barman and all those people...

what I call "alone,"

I'd have so many things to tell you.

Why don't you tell me then?

Tell me, Giles, be nice.

They're not things you can say on the street, in bars...

or at the movies.

They're not things you say standing up,

or sitting down, but lying down.

This dear boy is trying to take me to a hotel.

He's so funny.

Nicole?

Yes, Giles?

I missed.

The apple is not ripe.

Forgive me, Nicole.

I am a lout, a churl,

I deserve to be slapped.

Do you know what I had in there?

What that idiot's mind was concocting?

How would I know?

I wanted to take you in that place.

You... you.

My little Nicole.

I ruined everything.

So long.

He loves me. He understands me. He respects me.

He has everything in his favor.

Nicole. I thought you wanted to mock me when you called.

To punish me.

So, you are also generous.

To all sinners, forgiveness.

I warn you. It is a friendly visit.

I know.

If Giles had jumped on me, Jean-Claude would have had...

a spotless wife.

The Hussard style has been unappealing since the last war.

I won't even tell you to feel at ease.

Your coat is very beautiful.

I won't even kiss you.

It's up to you.

Everything is up to you.

When husbands kiss you, they never ask for your opinion.

It's wonderful to decide.

Wonderful to stay clear-headed.

This is not a zipper, they're hooks.

That's being clear-headed.

Giles, there's too much light.

No, that's not true.

No, your turn. You hang up.

Good night, my darling. I hang up?

Come on, I can't.

You hang up first. I'll count to three.

One... two...

Is that you?

Excuse me a minute. Don't hang up.

Who is it?

Don't tell me it's your hairdresser.

It's the idiot from the other night.

The gigolo at the restaurant.

The parasite.

You saw him again?

Depending on what you call seeing.

"See again", see one more time a personal, animal or thing...

that was already seen.

Excuse me again.

I met him by coincidence, on the streets.

I was coming from aunt Olga.

I think he's courting me.

That's bad.

When a woman confesses to her husband...

that a man is courting her,

that means that step has already been taken.

I was talking to my husband, as I said.

Excuse me.

Just for laughs, invite him for lunch.

That's not funny,

It could be. Invite him.

Since you wish to see me, Sir,

my husband is inviting you for lunch.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow. As I said.

Not at all.

My husband is a very charming man.

14, Boulevard Dunkerman, 5th floor, on your right.

1:00. Goodbye, Sir.

He was a bit moved, but he thanks you.

How did he get our phone number?

We are in the telephone book.

Telephone book: Book where names of people with a phone...

are published.

All it takes, is to read.

And to know the name of the person you're looking for.

Somebody has told him. Maybe aunt Olga.

You're ridiculous. You won't play Othello?

I don't understand that you compare a subtle husband...

to a jealous Negro.

What does "subtle" mean?

Is he suspicious?

I will cancel the lunch. No. He'll be more suspicious.

Funny, isn't it?

It is very good.

Nicole is a perfect house wife.

The surprises will keep coming.

Talking about surprises, when do you plan to marry her?

I beg your pardon?

Dear Sir, I think we have a common ground.

We love my wife.

We're not in 1900 and I am a modern husband.

No scene, no violence, but civility and fair play.

If my wife prefers you, I'll accept, and let you have her.

I don't understand.

You're not in love with Nicole?

Certainly not.

What a rat.

So you have no intention to marry her.

Of course not.

Excuse me,

I said that just in case it was in your intentions...

to face your responsibilities, and to protect the future...

of a weak little being.

She's not demanding, she likes her comfort and hates money,

so she spends it and hates used cars.

It's either I behave like a hero...

or a gentleman. Heroism is simple.

I get up, slap him, he slaps me back,

which could lead to worse uncertainties,

Let's choose to be gentlemen.

My God! It's 3:30, I have to move my car.

- No... - Yes. It's 3:30?

In two minutes, I'll get a parking ticket.

Well, I'll be right back.

I will not say that it was brilliant,

but I hope that I wasrt mistaken...

for a dutyful character.

What do I say to her now?

Am I going to play the offended husband?

No. The guilty husband.

- Jean-Claude, I must... - No.

It's all my fault.

I should be asking for your forgiveness.

I haven't been taking care of you enough.

I haven't been able to reassure you.

That's it. That's exactly it.

It's all his fault.

He's wonderful.

Hello, Massac? You couldn't call at a better time.

Tomorrow night?

You almost ruined my marriage with your business dinners.

It's over, the business dinners.

Finished.

To please you.

Tomorrow, five O'clock.

That's right. Goodbye, Sir.

Goodbye, darling. Five O'clock.

It is quite obvious that adultery,

which we disapprove,

would be one of the major causes for divorce,

if jealousy was not present to calm the effects.

So what are the main causes for a rupture?

First, brutality, second, alcoholism,

then mood incompatibility.

When all the joys of marriage are exhausted,

there's only one left, that of ending it: Divorce.

Memories.

Memories.

Memories.

Memories.

Wonderful memories.

They loved each other so much, those two!

Other wonderful memories.

Such a crazy, crazy, crazy, love!

Alas, passion doesn't always last forever.

Not always.

Not always.

- Minouche, can I come in? - What?

I'd like to talk to you.

Come in.

What do you want?

Here it is. Do you find me sexy?

Sexy?

If not sexy, do you find me intriguing?

Mysterious?

I know you too much.

Do I reflect captivating strength...

and authority?

It's saying a lot.

After all, after 10 years of marriage...

one doesn't ask this question anymore.

Of course. This question is totally out.

But allow me to tell you, that you are ravishing.

You are the prettiest you've ever been.

- Even though... - What?

You're sleeping here alone, and me, alone.

It is abnormal.

We've been sleeping alone a long time ago.

It's been abnormal for a long time.

Remember the nights we spent together.

What was wrong with those nights?

When the inconveniences of sharing a bed are so obvious,

that means that the advantages are no longer appreciated.

Isn't it, Minouchette?

We no longer have desire for each other.

So, why not divorce?

You have a mistress.

A mistress?

What have you imagined!

Don't do that, Michel. I've always remained faithful.

I am sure.

Because we have no guilt, that's exactly why...

we have to divorce immediately.

After, it'll be too late, while now, we can do it nicely.

Without any problems, like friends.

What you're saying is not stupid.

It's not stupid, it's even very smart.

Then why not?

We could still see each other.

Have dinners together.

We could go on week ends.

The very thought of not being together,

make us want to be with one another.

- You are a wonderful guy. - Yes.

- Promised? Friends? - Always.

You're wonderful.

It must be my mother.

She couldn't come at a better time!

We'll give her the good news.

Hello, mom? It's her.

It is nice of you to call. How are you?

Us? Perfectly well. Better and better.

I'll let you speak with Danielle.

She has something to tell you.

Mom? Good evening.

Michel and I are divorcing.

What? Are you crazy?

What you're saying is awful!

It is not at all awful.

So, who's going to keep the apartment?

We don't care. We'll agree on something.

Kisses. See you tomorrow.

She doesn't seem to be pleased.

She's a bit old fashioned. It's normal.

So, tomorrow, we go see Marcelou?

Good idea. He's an excellent lawyer.

It'll be quick since we agree to divorce.

No, my pigeons. It's against the law.

You need motives to divorce.

You may get married casually,

but a divorce, is a serious matter.

As we explained...

The law requires legal motives.

Are you cheating?

No.

So, cheat first, then, we'll see.

That's what's required by the law?

The law requires legal motives.

Have you abandoned your home?

No.

Did you waste the household budget? Are you in debt?

Have you had violent exchanges in front of the maids?

Drugs? Alcohol? Television?

What are you looking for?

It is simple. Michel and I no longer desire each other.

That's all.

If all married people who didn't desire each other...

asked for divorce,

everybody would be divorced.

Which one of you will be my client?

Why?

Can't you handle the both of us?

Of course not. Those are professional rules.

We're going to flip a coin.

Heads.

It's you.

I will ask you to leave me with my client.

So... I have to...

- I'll wait downstairs, darling. - Good.

- My friend... - Excuse me but...

My dear client, you take it too casually.

We must defend ourselves!

Even counter-attack!

Me? Attack Michel? Never!

To begin with, we'll ask for a small payment,

but later, we'll ask for alimony.

I don't want money.

Don't be stupid. We'll give him the treatment that he deserves.

We'll demolish him.

You gave him your best years,

he'll have to pay for that!

About the apartment, there's no hope in keeping it?

It was his before our marriage.

Would he have the guts to throw you out?

But we are separating.

One more reason not to forget what belongs to you!

Nothing!

The statue? A gift from you aunt. Yours!

This lamp, a gift from your cousin. Yours.

One good thing done. Let's move on to others.

- This chair? - It's his.

- I am surprised it's Michel's! - It's a gift from his uncle.

He also became your uncle.

Yours.

Let's see for the rest.

Mom, I don't agree with that.

Me, I am thinking about your future.

I won't lavish him with neither plates, nor a duster!

The chair?

Come on, Mom. That's his bed.

We'll see.

How about all these books?

They're all his!

But he bought them for you!

They're yours.

It's shameful, Mom. Michel will be furious.

You mean this churl is capable of everything!

You're right, I am too fast.

Let's leave everything in its place.

Later, we'll see.

Watch it with these little rascals.

I am deeply displeased with the way you refer to Michel.

We want to part elegantly.

Open your eyes, my child.

I saw him in traffic the other day,

next to him was a woman.

What were they doing in this car?

They were waiting for the green light,

but I had a flair.

Impossible. Michel has never cheated on me.

Maybe! But that's all he thought about!

He looked at women suspiciously.

The concierge! He even looked at me with these eyes!

What you're saying is horrible.

You didn't know him. You were dreaming, my child.

You're like me. Too sentimental.

Friends have no comments to make,

however, divorcing is the right thing to do.

- You think so? - Well, yes.

Why do you say, "well, yes"?

Because I like you.

You're a good old guy.

Please.

Have you seen Max recently?

- Yes. Why? - Nothing.

You were about to say something.

I am sure there was nothing between him and your wife.

Neither Francis, nor Gerald.

A little flirt, probably.

Beautiful women like to be flattered.

After all, it's none of your friends' business.

Do you have a good lawyer?

You're a monster!

For years, my life is hell!

That's good. Write it down. "My life is like hell.

"You didn't want to see my pain.

You didn't want to see my big sorrow."

- Big sorrow? - Yes. Go all the way.

- "Big sorrow..." - You don't like it?

I admit, for a man, it's a bit ridiculous.

Remove "big."

Remove it.

"You didn't see my sorrow."

Remove "big sorrow," both.

Now, let's be more direct.

- I am tired... - Tired?

Yes. There! Just like that!

Believe me. Don't argue!

"I am tired of your jealousy, your personality,

In short, I can't stand you."

I have to write that down?

I understand.

But that's not true.

It is not important. The court couldn't care less about truth.

What you need is abuse, and we're giving it.

"So"?

No, "so" is a phrase support for me.

Erase, "so."

"You have stepped on my illusions,

betrayed my hopes..."

Which is ridiculous.

Coming from a woman, the court adores that phrase.

Write...

"What have you done with my life, Michel?"

Start with "Michel."

"Michel, what have you done with my life?

"I have suffered in the beginning,

of your animalistic sexual desire."

What?

"Your animalistic instincts...

or your animalistic appetite."

Animalistic desire!

Write that down.

"I am now suffering from your...

softness... indolence."

Make up your mind.

We have to find the right word.

Failures!

- I refuse to write that. - Listen...

I won't. It is absolutely grotesque.

I won't leave my husband completely disturbed.

Who cares? You're divorcing.

We'll do it the right way, Sir.

But the law will find it unacceptable.

Do as I say and don't argue.

What is this?

"You're not the only woman on earth.

I happen to know some that are nicer and more desirable."

That's false.

That's what works in court. So, write it down.

"I had it with a frigid woman..."

No.

- Yes or no? - No!

Do you or don't you want a divorce?

- Yes. - Then, write.

"I have no respect for a churl like you."

I refuse to write all that!

That's impossible!

Thank you.

- Milk? - That's nice of you.

Thank you.

You have no sugar.

A slice of toast?

Jam?

- What is it? - The mail, Sir.

That's for you. And for you, Sir.

Funny, it's from your attorney.

Yours too.

A copy of a letter.

Mine also.

What nerves!

Charming.

I stepped on your illusions! Me!

You couldn't stand me!

It's nonsense.

Frigid?

Animalistic appetite?

Sexual indolence? When?

"You're not the only woman on earth."

I tortured you morally? Me?

Absolutely! You've always ignored my Ioneliness.

You stole my best years!

"A thug like me."

A thug who slaved all day for his household!

Your money. You're bringing it up!

I didn't see a lot of it!

Of course, you spent it before it came!

Except that you gave it to more desirable women.

What women!

I was blind, now I see!

In cars. What were you doing in a car with them!

- They saw you, hypocrite! - Me?

- Yes! - They saw you with Max.

And with Gerard, and Francis.

Let's talk about it.

A pig. I've married a pig.

I hate you.

You are beginning to look like your mother.

With a father who went bankrupt, you dare insult my mother?

And your brother? He still owes us 1,000 new francs. Animal!

- I won't mention your sister! - My sister...

What did your sister tell me?

That's you.

Really?

Reconciliation is for tomorrow, at 3:00?

At the court of justice.

The law requires a last attempt of reconciliation.

I am talking to your heart, with emotions.

A married life couldn't only count happy days.

You're going through a crisis. Think of your best memories.

Reach out to each other.

Sir, do you insist on your divorce intentions?

I insist.

- Madame? - I insist.

Well... next.

Sit down.

The law requires a last attempt of reconciliation.

I am talking to your heart, with emotions.

Married life couldn't consist only of happy days.

You're going through a crisis. Think of your best memories.

Reach out for each other.

Sir, do you insist on your divorce intentions?

I insist.

Madame?

I insist.

Good. Next!

MOVERS-DESBORDES

Stop! Stop!

Here, you've forgotten this!

It won't be long.

That's all I am taking.

My night gown, my toothbrush.

You don't find women as disinterested as me every day.

I'll leave you the apartment too.

I return my prison key.

If ever you have a copy, I'll change the lock.

If you knew what I think about you!

It's mutual!

Me, poor idiot, who wanted to remain your friend!

Me, the nut who wanted to see you again!

Lout!

Slut!

The bitch!

Her little toothbrush.

Yes, we know that,

the law is absurd.

You can always remarry your wife.

Don't give me that face, my poor Minet.

Meanwhile, your wife will join the sad category...

of single women.

What's a single woman?

Be careful. They're not all love protesters.

But human rights adepts, and suffragettes of freedom.

Alas, for most women, freedom is a way to wait for someone.

Whow? Him, as usual. Love.

Whether he's small or big,

Appolon, or bearded,

Whoever he is,

He will always find a woman to give him justice...

against those who have already forgiven him.

Your Honor,

if we can call upon extenuating circumstances,

it's in favor of my client.

Mr. Desire.

Who, allow me to say,

is a modest victim of the painful social phenomenon...

the single woman.

What a dream giver, a healer...

A comforter.

The act of accusation shows,

Swindling of single women.

17 complaints, 9 social status, 12 times bigamous,

not to mention illegal display of decorations.

But, Sir,

Your Honor, what am I blamed for?

If I have healed, and comforted many,

you must believe that there were many to be comforted.

They blame you for you have left.

That means I am missed.

I am not this violent husband, this awkward seducer...

You should be saying this.

He's not this violent, cold husband,

pushing his poor companion to adultery.

Among the plaintiff, six have already...

asked the court to show leniency to my client.

Six women are ready to go back.

If we go by moral, there are five too many.

Moral... it's the law that is wrong.

Is it my client's fault, if the woman anticipates...

and desires marriage?

Is it his fault, if, since his youth, he was attracted...

by catastrophes and distress?

Is it his fault if his heart tells him to comfort those...

who are least spoiled by life.

These women that we see traveling alone.

The black sheep of hotel-keepers,

during vacations.

Single women, on Christmas Day.

Excuse me, but I would like to ask a question to the accused.

Mr. Desire, since it is your name,

can you tell us, in spite of the charming depiction,

what circumstances have led one of your victims...

to cease that philanthropic cure?

It's because of a professional mistake, Sir.

I was in Paris, on a beautiful spring day...

I was randomly entering a store,

Can I help you, Sir?

Does one ever know what one wants?

You enter a store and your whole life changes.

Have you noticed how strange life is?

Gloves are the clothes of the hands, you know.

And the hand guides our life.

Forgive me, you must have heard quite some insipid thoughts.

People asked me for gloves and they talk about gloves,

and I sell them gloves.

Sheep skin, suede, to you only mean...

Gloves.

Not a happy little woman.

Elegant or sports, Sir?

- As you like. - Your size?

I don't know.

Can I see your hand?

I am the one who usually say that.

- Excuse me? - Nothing. It's not for me.

Is it for a woman?

Yes, for my m... mother.

She has such beautiful hands.

Small, gracious.

Just like yours.

She wasrt wearing a ring.

I am wasting your time.

That's why I am here for.

Maybe it wasrt your boss's idea.

I am the boss... I mean, the manager.

Nice store. I have a few friends who'd like to buy...

a similar store. Is it difficult to find?

Quite. I myself, would like to buy it.

One must invest wisely.

What an interesting job, you've got.

The hands. I see chance, crime, love.

Romeo and Juliet's hands.

I've never seen it on this angle.

Until today, have you ever seen life at a good angle?

The same evening...

Excuse me, I can hardly explain to myself

what has pushed me to come back, when I have an appointment...

far away from here.

Can I take you home?

You're meeting someone.

I am entering a life that is already filled.

Sir, your insistence... Would you excuse me.

She was serious and careful.

What followed, was as usual.

Eliane Gerard, it's me.

I just wanted to hear your voice.

How did he find my address?

The next day, flowers.

Frederic Leroy, Foreign Exchange Brokerage Firm Bertin.

Let her rest a couple of days,

then during the same day,

One message,

two messages,

three messages.

"In memory of our encounter."

"I think of you."

"I will come waiting for you in three days."

In the car, good manners, again, and again.

There are some interesting statistics on marriage...

and cars.

A man who drives brutally, treats his wife brutally.

You can drive it with two hands.

Not to forget the melancholy.

- What's wrong? - Nothing.

We're in front of your porch.

So long.

Not to rush. Obtain everything without asking.

Would you like to come for tea, on Sunday?

Of course.

So?

I was up for surprises.

When my mother died, I took her apartment.

One can feel Ionely in a 5-room, so,

Ms. Mangebois.

The old slick kind. Not my type.

Gilberte Dumas,

Executive secretary.

Introverted, shy.

She has a way of pulling her hands,

and of showing her legs unknowingly,

We each have our room,

we only share one thing: The piano and the television set.

And the kitchen.

And Ludovic.

Who's Ludovic?

Your rival.

It was clear to me, that I was being closely examined.

Do you live with your mother?

But... no.

Was she happy?

For what?

The gloves.

Delighted.

Eliane told me that you worked for a brokerage firm.

Yes.

My boss, oftentimes, works with yours.

Really?

I will have to consult you.

A small ineritance?

A small ineritance?

Unfortunately, my rule of thumb is never, to advise friends.

That is not nice.

I prefer food recipes.

The little glutton.

Do you know the Magiard Escalopes?

One kilo of shallots,

make a bouillon...

add some paprika,

a touch of cream.

That's the whole secret.

The perfect man for a house.

Don't you think, Eliane?

Yes, he has a few talents.

What's with her?

I am having fun.

My father too, was an extraordinary man.

A very strong man.

There's nothing like a man in house.

You should come every day.

If Eliane had asked me, I would.

It's because she drinks wine when there's company.

She's nervous.

The poor, little Eliane, I shouldn't say that,

but she doesn't have a happy life.

A manufacturer in Provence, married with three children.

He's also a poet. He loves Lamartine.

I like that.

She's been waiting for years.

But I think she's stopped hoping for him.

You seem to enjoy the company of Ionely ladies.

And yet, it is not very gay.

Though we've pulled the alarm signal,

but the train never stops.

Have you ever had the feeling of being useless?

- You have forgotten the sugar. - I'll go get it.

You can see that we do not entertain often.

Who is she?

A strange and wild little animal.

An animal?

Gilberte is still a virgin.

And very proud, to top it all.

She's looking for an exceptional man.

As if they existed.

We've bored you with our stories.

On the contrary, I have found a new family.

A family.

As the old lady trusted me with her real estate,

I was playing cards with her.

The jack!

And of course, I always let her win.

That doesn't...

Unappy in game...

As to Eliane, I was filing...

a tax return...

on titles and real estate values.

"Profits on traditional or commercial businesses...

"personal expenses,

social status."

I will write...

"single"?

Do you find it fair,

that an unmarried woman pays additional taxes?

There's only one solution.

Frederic, of the three women living here,

I am the Ioneliest.

Maybe because I am the most femimine, thus the most naive.

I am ready to believe and to give.

But be careful.

When I start having doubts,

It's over.

I become ferocious. You're not born a bitch, you become one,

and men make you become one.

I was warned, but mistakes are only human.

I took great pleasure...

helping Gilberte in simple tasks.

She was saying the most astounding things.

Last night, I didn't sleep well.

Asteroids, probably.

I cut my hair...

and I am not even trendy.

I am nothing like the women in the magazines.

That's why men take no interest in me.

I was getting very interested in her...

which does not keep me from...

You sell gloves, so please advise me,

I am about to ask someone in marriage,

it's my first time.

I am the one will have to ask for your hands...

The left one. That of the heart.

I will not give it back.

The following Sunday, at noon, Eliane had accepted...

to visit me in my comfortable little flat.

She was to bring me the titles for a profitable investment.

Ms. Monvoie had already disappeared.

Where are you?

You're not coming?

He's in Paris. Lucien, the man I told you about.

I'd better not come.

I don't know anymore.

What about the titles?

I had made a mistake.

That's what you're interested in?

Very well.

You may fetch them, I will leave you an envelope.

A month's won'th of work lost because of an idiot!

Eliane is not there.

I thought she had called you.

She left you an envelope, just in...

Please don't look, I am not presentable.

I am alone.

- Ms. Manchebois isn't there? - No.

She went to Provence, to her niece's wedding.

Did you have any plans for today?

I will eat a slice of ham,

and at 5:00, I'll go to a concert.

Do you love music?

At concerts, one doesn't feel Ionely,

but at the movies and at the theater, one does.

May I invite you to have lunch?

Gilberte was my professional mistake.

- That's all, thank you. - Thank you.

Do you like my little restaurant?

Wonderful.

I have a feeling that you're mocking me.

No man has ever courted you?

Sure. But I always knew what they wanted.

But me, I want love. All or nothing.

The absolute love.

You don't know who I am.

A drink?

This had always been my professional mistake.

Bars are for people like us.

What kind of people are we?

People who don't want to part,

but yet don't have a convenient place to be together.

You're welcome to come to mine.

But Eliane is the one who's invited.

You should play with me.

- Do you play table tennis? - A little.

A game?

I give you 5 points. 5-0.

- I'll let you serve. - As you please.

6-0.

The kid is good, isn't she?

7-0. You're not letting me win.

Were you hiding things?

Wait until I get my swing.

May I?

8-0.

9-0.

I had lost count...

and I found myself at her place.

- No hard feelings? - Why?

Because you beat me in table tennis?

On the contrary.

It's good to hear your manly steps in the house.

What keeps you here?

- My face? - I like your eyes.

You say that to all the ugly girls.

Ugliness is for those who choose to be.

Why don't you wear contact lenses?

I'd like you to take care of yourself. Just yourself.

Who will provide for me?

I'll find the money.

By the way, Eliane left you the envelope...

of her tiles...

which value you will double.

Promise that you won't read them today,

when you get home.

And why?

Today, you're off work.

Swear...

that we won't mention money today.

- Do you swear? - I swear.

I feel good.

Gilberte, would you marry me?

Good evening.

I have come several times. I was patiently waiting.

Forgive me for this morning.

Can I get in?

- Is that where you live? - Yes.

It's funny,

that's not what I imagined.

What's wrong with my home?

Anonymous.

Do you offer me a drink?

You're mad at me?

Is it because of the titles I didn't bring?

- I have them a home. - No.

I stopped by. Here they are.

- You didn't open them? - No.

I have a confession to make.

They're not mine.

What?

- What isn't yours? - The titles. The money.

Whose are they?

- To Gilberte. - Gilberte?

Yes, she's rich. Very rich.

Her family owns a chateau in Perigord.

You'll marry her, won't you? For better or for worse.

- Now, I understand. - What do you understand?

The envelope.

I shouldn't have told you.

Me, her, what's the difference?

To me, there's no difference.

So,

the gloves you purchased,

you can hold them in your hands,

and ask for mine.

When are we getting married, Frederic?

As soon as I get my papers.

Please tell me that you'll rush it.

I feel so feeble and small next to you.

The next day, I had to meet Gilberte at her place.

I've made up my mind. I won't marry you.

Why?

They say women enjoy stealing their best friend's lover,

and I think men invent that saying as an excuse.

I don't like that.

I'd lose faith in love.

I need to respect the man that I will love.

Loneliness has given me a taste for freedom, maybe.

Hello.

- You're not in the store? - You're not at your office?

The Bertirs Brokerage Firm.

No one knows you there.

Is that a pitfall?

Are you scared of two weak women?

I didn't do anything to you.

You've asked me to marry you. Attempted fraud.

The titles are safe.

The envelope is still sealed.

The envelope was empty, anyway.

The titles are here, in the desk.

- You're very smart. - Yes.

We could create you a lot of problems, if we wanted.

- But we don't. - How?

We even think we owe you something.

You don't seem to understand.

Look at her.

You've asked me in marriage.

You didn't know I had money.

You have preferred me to Eliane,

who's beautiful, intelligent, and charming.

You have rid me of my past.

Back Street is over for me.

Now, I have a hold of my future.

Yes, I'll wear contact lenses. I'll take better care of myself.

You've given me the desire to live.

Run, or we'll call the police.

I have a question. Which one of you has money?

Neither one of us, Ms. Manchebois.

I had forgotten that one.

She handed me her title deeds, last week.

Where are they?

Well, it was the old lady that got me arrested.

La prison. Certainly.

La prison.

FREEDOM EQUALITY FRATERNITY

But sometimes later,

what do you think happened?

I was afraid I wouldn't make it.

I just left the court.

Happy to be free?

I don't know how to thank you.

Oh, yes, you do.

You need to make some investments?

Yes, one.

They're waiting for us at the City Hall.

We only have half an hour.

Hurry up.

Well, yes,

young women, old maids,

adolescents or married,

divorced or Ionely,

in love, women are always stronger than us.

To conclude,

a tribute to women,

a quote from one of our great contemporary writers,

"All women are beautiful when they are loved.

"They are made to be loved,

more than to love." Sasha Guitry.

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