Original subtitles

NOT MY TYPE

Daredjane, what are you doing?

Daredjane!

Are you OK?

Daredjane, can I come in?

What happened?

This is fucked.

What's going on?

I can't unscrew this thing.

- I dropped my bar in it. - Soap?

Fuck, no, dope!

Never mind.

What? It was this big.

Come on up.

Up you get.

- I'll call a plumber. - You OK?

You don't call a plumber at 11 PM just for some dope.

I won't record till I get it back.

Wait, I'll have a look.

- It unscrews... - Got it?

No, but...

There it is.

That's great!

Nice work.

No!

Daredjane, turn the water off!

You're stupid to stay underneath it.

You're an ass. Honestly!

I'll call the plumber tomorrow.

Come on.

I've found a bass line for the track I want you to hear.

Who gives a shit if I do an album?

Who cares?

Everyone who's been waiting.

I've done nothing for 10 years. No-one complained.

- Those who love you. - Who?

They're all dead or senile.

I'm neither.

I had a fling with Dominique Rocheteau.

Who?

Rocheteau, St Etienne's winger. Heard of the Green Angel?

It lasted...

about 2 years.

It ended after they lost the Cup Final.

If the post hadn't been square, it'd have gone in.

The Green Angel...

Here.

Healthy mind, healthy body. You singers are so boring now.

It doesn't make us the Virgin Mary.

My little puss...

So, this bass line?

You'll see, it's not...

It's just a first try...

Shit or get off the pot.

Tell me what you think.

- Be honest. - Go on.

I started writing some lyrics.

It's called... You'll see.

It's just a first try. Tell me...

Shit or get off the pot!

Show me some respect.

Your bass line is great.

Really?

Listen.

Here goes...

Throwing myself.

Into the unknown.

And joining.

The naked shooting stars.

Mom's smile.

And her outstretched hand.

Throwing myself.

Throwing myself.

Throwing myself.

I don't have the rest.

So?

Go on, spit it out.

It's...

very beautiful.

The words, the music... How can we do better?

Better? Well...

I don't know if I should tell you.

It might be good to change the words...

Shooting stars... Stars dancing.

Throwing myself into the unknown And joining the naked stars dancing.

Rather than "shooting stars".

Stars dancing, what's that?

Well, it's the stars dancing. It's a bit more mysterious.

"Stars dancing..." Got a pen?

What a snobby pen, puss.

- You can keep it. - Stop it.

Throwing myself.

Into the unknown.

And joining.

The naked stars dancing.

Mom's smile.

And her outstretched hand.

Throwing myself.

Throwing myself.

Throwing myself.

Into the unknown.

Regretting.

That you never really knew me.

The milky white lights.

And the deserted fire.

Throwing myself.

Throwing myself.

Throwing myself.

Your thing...

Into the unknown.

Rising slightly.

Above.

The faces of a lover.

And the dirt and the money.

Throwing myself.

Throwing myself.

And then... Let me show you.

I thought of a second part

in a diminished C sharp... instead of C major.

And it adds a little...

another kind of lyricism. I think it's not bad.

For instance...

And there...

That sounds weird.

Try your thing.

Diminished is good. Diminished, like me, is great.

2nd part.

Changing my skin.

Good.

Flying away.

That's good.

Covering with water.

The infamous secrets.

Floating in the air.

That's good.

Rediscovering.

Original joy.

Good.

Doing yourself good.

Come on.

Now...

Come on.

- Marcia! - What?

- I got it! - Got what?

I got it, I got it! My Eventualities!

The council approved it. I'm so happy!

Look at this. Look at the artist's work.

In the main square at Colombes, my 6 sculptures.

My Eventualities. Here and here in the square.

It'll be great!

I can't believe the council voted for it!

What side are they on?

They like my work, that's all that matters.

It's my first commission. I love everyone!

Do you like this melody?

How much will the rent be now?

- 1,500 at the end of the month. - Wow!

Do you like it?

They're taking the piss. Double!

To make room for tourist boats.

Yeah, but we can't afford 1,500.

Doesn't Dardedjane pay you?

Daredjane!

No, it's not the point.

It was so intense today.

So, do we give up the houseboat?

No, let's go to Quai de l'Oise. It's cheaper there.

- Or Pantin. - Pantin? No way!

I won't leave Paris.

We can come back.

Oh, come on.

Marcia, I know you off by heart.

A whole album of vocals and cello just isn't possible.

- Not for your 2nd album. - But that's what I want, that's all.

Your 1st album got noticed. The radios played 2 tracks.

That's rare. You need to build on that.

- Get on. - No way, it moves.

It's moored.

It's against my religion to set foot on boats.

Why do you want to change your style?

- Because! - Because what?

She's an artist.

- I know she is. - That's not the issue.

Look, artists today must adapt to the real world.

The real world must adapt.

- Bye. - Bye, honey.

I respect...

- Where are you going? - To Daredjane's.

I admire your integrity, but you can't do this to me. Why not add

instrumentals, layers of synths, beats?

What will that weirdo bring you?

Bring you, you mean.

Do the job with Jean-Pierre Michel.

That corny old crooner?

He still has fans and he still does shows, unlike your...

Don't compare the two of them.

It's not...

I won't hold it against you.

See you.

Those fleeting pleasures.

Those narrow beds.

Those unmade beds.

When the future is cold.

Is cold.

In others' joys.

We saw ourselves together.

Together.

Together.

The life we didn't make.

Festive nights.

Fine fiancés.

Maybe we should have.

Stop that. What are you doing?

- It's a memento. - Why do that?

Sorry.

I don't want to be seen anymore.

You'll be seen on stage.

I won't ever again.

You will, with me.

For the album.

Yeah, with you... Watch out.

You'll be in my shadow.

I know. I want to be in your shadow.

I'll beat you in an arm-wrestle.

- With your cigarette? - You'll see!

Show me what you've got.

Wow, the old girl is strong!

Very strong!

You let me win.

You bitch!

I didn't.

I'm not sure about the bridge.

Do you like that?

It's good.

You should sleep. It's really late.

- It's time for bed. - Wait...

I had a tune...

A melody. I've lost it.

You'll find it tomorrow. Come on, it's time to go to bed.

It's late.

Somewhere, there's a...

a cemetery with all the melodies I found and lost.

The cemetery of lost melodies.

Come on.

Sleep well. We've worked well. Tomorrow...

we'll finish it.

'Night.

'Night, puss.

See you tomorrow.

It's a real commission.

Yes, I didn't realize that.

It's really real.

Cranes come for them.

They're cast in bronze and picked up from the workshop.

Can you lift your side up?

How stupid, a padlock as a symbol of love!

What?

How stupid... It's bullshit.

A padlock...

We just want to work. It keeps us busy.

Pleased to meet you, too!

Come on, guys.

Daredjane, I brought you croissants.

Alright?

No.

Smoke in the dawn.

Easy irony.

Your sacred voice.

And the partially sober evenings.

My little puss.

When you called me.

My little puss.

And you took

a standing jump.

Into empty space.

Where you left me.

On my forehead a crease.

And in the soul.

Your freedom.

Your bass line is great.

Really?

I started writing the lyrics.

It's just a first try. Tell me...

Shit or get off the pot!

Show me some respect.

It's not even the suburbs It's Bures-sur-Yvette.

Life.

In a non-place.

Boring nights.

Disgust for going without.

In Bures-sur-Yvette, melancholy.

Daredjane,

Bures-sur-Yvette...

What?

Bures-sur-Yvette...

near Paris.

You grew up there?

Indeed.

But it wasn't quite...

what I wanted.

You need to speak up

if you want us to hear you.

I was the Ay-rab

I was the Ay-rab.

In that family of fakes I was the Ay-rab.

You wouldn't believe the throng.

Wouldn't believe the throng.

Of all the pettiness You wouldn't believe the throng.

The screams in the kitchen When I was on the mandolin.

They had to break my notes.

The shame of the family The dream of a girl.

Of my mama.

Bitch!

Bitch.

In the 1950s, my mother met a Kabyle,

an oud player

who was on tour in France with his Arab-Andalusian group.

Great music.

Don't interrupt.

She loved him dearly,

and she fell pregnant with me.

Her parents went crazy.

They were Catholics, she couldn't get an abortion.

So, I was born.

Classy.

I don't look it, but I know I'm an Ay-rab and proud of it.

It pisses off those assholes in my family.

I never miss a chance to say that I puke on

those provincial bourgeois, hypocritical, racist scum.

Anything else, buddy?

Nope.

As a kid, I'd sing "The Ay-rab".

You know...

I was the Ay-rab.

My parents were scared I'd sing it at school.

I didn't know what it meant.

So I asked them. They pretended

it meant the sister between the big sister and the little one.

Bullshit!

Until...

No, baby.

Come here.

I hate seeing you like that.

Come on my lap.

It'll be OK. She was just impulsive.

That impulsive?

Maybe it was an accident.

You don't know how people really feel.

Growing old must have been unbearable.

It's like a final gesture, one last performance.

What about our songs?

Yes, well...

she finished her album first. Granny understood marketing!

How can you say that?

Oh, I'm just saying that to make you smile.

I want wine, too.

Sure.

Here, take it.

My blood.

Doesn't care about your feelings.

When you put your lips on...

OK?

Did you sign anything?

Meaning?

I mean a contract.

Nope... Why?

Why?

Marcia, really! Seriously?

2 days ago, you said you didn't care about her.

Yes, well, now she's dead, OK?

Death adds value.

For the next 2 years, it'll keep going up...

What?!

I'm doing my job. I'm looking after your interests.

If there's no contract...

I met her and suggested

writing new songs. She sent me packing.

Then said yes. I couldn't make her sign.

- You composed the songs? - We both did.

That has no legal value. What did she write?

What did we write!

You know what I mean.

It depends. I co-wrote the music and lyrics.

Not all of them, but most.

Got any proof?

Proof? José, she just died!

Guys, that's really bugging me. Stop playing. We're talking!

Fucking musicians!

I can hear you.

- OK... - I just want to release the album.

You can't. Listen to me.

Half the songs belong to her legal successor.

- Who's that? - That's just it.

She had no kids, no brother, not many friends left.

- José... - Yes?

We get 200 for the next concert?

Oh, come on.

Let's talk later. We're having a discussion.

Yeah, right!

- Don't you trust me? - No!

I don't trust myself either. It held me back

because trust is all-important in this profession.

Trust works both ways, see?

- Do you understand? - Is it 200 or not?

Her legal successor

is her great-nephew.

Her father was a cousin by marriage.

His name's Anthony Denoël.

Heard of him?

Where can he be found?

In Bures-sur-Yvette...

In Bures-sur-Yvette?!

She couldn't stand her family.

Remember?

It's not even the suburbs It's Bures-sur-Yvette.

We'll go explain to this Anthony. He'll understand.

What did I tell you last week?

Move your shit back!

Stay behind the line.

People can go past...

Don't bullshit me. I'm the marshal of this market.

Move this shit. Go on, beat it!

You OK?

How's it going?

- OK? - Here.

- Your fee. - What's this?

- You still owe last week. - But...

Yeah, yeah.

Thanks.

Had your hair done?

- No. - It was better before.

- I don't do it for you. - You look lovely.

- Say hi to hubby. - My receipt.

- Or you'll charge me twice! - Bye. Say hi to him.

Hi, JR.

Anthony, where did you put us today?

- G5. - There's no-one over there!

And in B1, you put that fat crook?!

- I had no choice. - What did she give you?

An organic Saint Nectaire.

- I want B3 next time. - Sure. 2 Saint Nectaires.

- Organic! - You're unreal.

No fancy shit.

Hi there.

- When do you finish? - 1.30.

- Come over. - I've got errands to run.

Really?

Want me to come?

What? Are you embarrassed?

- Seeing Aïssa? - No.

Tell me. I don't care.

You're cute when you're embarrassed. You frown.

- What errands? - Things.

- What things? - Nothing.

For a funeral.

See you.

See you later.

She must have been bored stiff here.

I think it's pretty.

Peaceful.

I grew up in a hole like this.

When I go back, I get nostalgic.

Of the day I left!

There was a scooter in Bures-sur-Yvette.

I wanted a cardboard casket, but I had to get pine.

It's the cheapest.

Who was this lady to you?

An old bitch. Anyway...

Never heard of Daredjane, the singer?

No idea.

What're they up to?

What're you up to? There's nothing to photograph.

Let us do our job. We were sent...

No, I decide here.

No, you don't. The paper sent us...

What paper? See this line? Stay behind it.

Anthony Denoël.

Or I'll throw you out.

Don't talk to us like that.

I'll do what I like!

I don't like your pal.

He's not my pal.

Excuse me. Who are you?

- Pardon? - Who are you?

We're friends of Daredjane's.

Good friends.

Who invited you? Got a card?

Is there a VIP area?

Go on.

There's no-one.

'Cause he told no-one.

Give me a kiss.

Don't move.

Then, there's the gravestone.

Do I have to buy that?

We'll see. Can we fold this now?

- Now? - Yeah, right now.

I'll take this off.

OK, good.

The brake?

You can undo the brake.

We'll do it.

Then, that.

Wear black next time.

- You're joking? - Oh, I don't care!

OK, we're good.

Well, I invite you... to leave.

Thanks a lot.

- What a rush! - Not a welcoming place.

Wait a sec.

- What're you doing? - Please...

It's half a winter.

That's Daredjane.

I want more.

I've had enough.

I can see you coming.

When in my hair.

I see the salt.

Eating the pepper

I can see you coming.

When in my gestures.

Slowness is gaining.

Ground, waste ground.

You done?

Can we take the time to mourn?

Sorry, we gotta go.

So, I invite you again to leave.

Thank you very much.

Gentlemen... See you at the café?

I've had enough. Let's go.

You go. I have to talk to him.

You're not coming?

I don't understand. Who are you?

A friend of hers.

She had friends?! You from Paris?

Yes, I'm a singer.

I admired your great-aunt. I met her recently. She was lovely.

"Lovely"?!

- Her work meant... - Jean-Mi!

- A beer. - OK.

- What do you want? - I don't know. A latte.

No, from me.

Well, uh...

Before Daredjane died...

we recorded...

10 songs.

And a latte!

She gave them her all.

So what?

We have to see how best to release the album.

I don't give a shit about your album.

I hate Daredjane, what she does, who she is.

All I know is, she raised hell in my family.

Right? Is that it? I have work to do.

But...

The coffee's for her.

You can't not care.

It's not my problem.

- You have no choice. - Oh, really?

You have a duty and responsibility to her work.

You must be loyal to her memory.

- What's funny? - She always bust my balls.

- Look... - She pissed us off.

You pissed her off.

- What d'you know? - Her songs.

Really? Sorry, I got a life. Bye!

You're her legal successor.

Nothing else should matter.

Who do you think you are?

- Your inheritance will attract loonies. - Think so?

Bye.

Wait up!

Can I just play you one of our recordings?

- Just that. - Jump in.

Those fleeting pleasures.

Those narrow beds.

Those unmade beds.

When the future is cold.

Is cold.

In others' joys.

We saw ourselves together.

Together.

Together.

In others' joys.

We curled up together.

She was clearly past it.

Is that all?

Well, there's no tune, the lyrics... It all reeks of death.

- You have no right. - I have every right!

I don't want to deal with it.

Sorry if it hurts you.

I can do it for you if you like.

So, you're a gold digger?

You really are a big fucking asshole!

Hey, I'm joking.

Open the door!

It's tough, huh?

I'll lock up your crap and throw away the key!

You do that!

Fuck!

You got the preppy look.

Crappy jeans and sandals.

Can you spare some cash?

Yeah, I can!

You got the look, Coco.

Coco, you got the look.

No doubt about it, Coco.

You got the look, it's so you.

A round of shots, guys?

That went down well!

Thanks.

Dunno where to turn!

If Daredjane saw that...

She could've seen it coming.

That jerk'll screw it all up.

What gives him the right to massacre her work?

The law.

He'll never release her album!

It'll come out one day.

70 years after her death, that's the law.

Shit! I'm so sorry.

Fuck, Marcia!

Sorry!

I'm so sorry.

- You don't care about my work. - No... Yes!

Yes, I do care.

Offer subject to conditions.

If you come back, I...

Offer promised to submission

I'll keep quiet if...

Offer subject to conditions.

If you loved me, I...

Fuck!

Offer promised to submission.

- Are you coming? - Huh?

- Are you coming? - Yeah, coming. Just a sec, OK?

- What's that? - Nothing. The internet

is so shitty.

It's a joke.

If you loved me, I...

Offer subject to submission...

Fuck!

Why bring me here if we're not gonna fuck?

You're right.

It's OK.

It's not.

I can't. I'll be right back,

I promise.

And I'll return to the mystery.

Water in the wine.

High hopes.

Better than nothing In the mirrors.

The smell

of blood.

The lack of air.

Consent with a bitter taste.

Being a prisoner is good Because it's you.

Because it's you.

Marcia...

A fancy journalist wants to do a feature.

She loves your houseboat life.

So, she wants to interview you on the houseboat

and do photos of you with your favorite childhood object.

I don't have one.

What's important nowadays is the storytelling.

So, make anything up, OK?

What did you like as a kid?

What did I like? I don't know...

Horses...

Dolphins...

French toast...

Are you fucking with me?

I'm being serious.

Will you give us a hand with the gear?

Sure, as soon as you've finished, I'll help.

I'm just an ordinary girl who sings songs.

To hell with the truth. Just make something up.

Christine and the Queens never said she started in insurance.

When I was younger, I managed a kid who did electro.

Not my thing at all.

He asked me to buy him a scooter.

I said: "OK, I'm your manager, I'll buy you a scooter."

He and his pal go to the store.

They try on helmets and look at each other.

I see them...

"Hey, guys!"

"Great idea! You should do concerts in your helmets!"

See what I mean?

Do you see? That was Daft Punk.

- That was my idea. - So?

So?!

You need to stand out.

Say you had a pet jellyfish.

A jellyfish? How dumb is that?!

Pete Doherty's thing?

Greasy hair.

So, if you want to be talked about, you need to drop the odd tidbit.

What're you doing?

I dropped a tidbit.

- José? - Yeah.

Is it 150 now?

It is 150 now?

I just said that.

What did you just say?

It's 150 now!

Fuck, it's 150 now!

Next we'll pay to play.

You'll pay to play next. It's crazy!

Golden Duets.

Much water has flowed over the years.

Wine has often lent me wings and wanderings.

With me the gods have been kind Just one regret.

Just one, but a big one.

That little thing behind my ear you did.

In my sleep

I admit I wasn't sleeping.

All my kingdom, all my records.

Your little gesture.

Between thumb and index finger.

It meant well.

But it comes back to me.

And torments me.

I've seen many countries I've touched many skins.

Tons and tons of ambition.

I bit flesh

I bit the bait.

Just one regret.

Just one, but a big one.

That little thing behind my ear you did.

In my sleep

I admit I wasn't sleeping.

My best bottles and ideals.

For your little gesture.

Between

thumb and index finger.

I can admit it to you.

- Great! - He touched my ass!

- It'll help your career. - He touched my ass!

It's a popular show.

Never again. Him and his slimy look!

Jean-Pierre is a pro, OK?

He's ancient.

He's a crooner. They're ageless.

Think I don't see what you're thinking?

I can see it and feel it. I'm not blind.

We don't have to talk.

You don't have to grope me.

I was doing my job.

It's a love duet. People have to believe it.

Don't lovers touch? Why'd I turn down such an opportunity?

I hate your schtick.

Lovers? Really?

It's the song. You agreed to sing it, so accept it.

I care for my public. I give them what they want to see:

that Jean-Pierre Michel can still score.

They feel younger. It's nothing personal.

I care for truth.

How could people think you scored?

You know, your petty contempt,

the petty contempt of a pretty young woman

won't last.

Time enjoys launching its affront.

And will fade your roses As it has wrinkled my brow.

Maybe I'll get old, but I'm 26, old man, so fuck you!

Corneille, Brassens... We could do a duet.

Sure!

Why be so rude?

He touched you, it's not...

Did you hear me?

- Stop being so 2021. - You stop.

- Come on... - Stop it.

You can't do or say anything!

Mr. Denoël?

Mrs. Pietri, Performing Rights.

Follow me.

This way.

So, Daredjane's inheritance...

Mr. Denoël?

It's in 2 distinct parts.

There are the assets

and her song catalogue.

Her assets won't take long.

All your great-aunt possessed was her apartment.

She even had some debts.

Debts? Do I pay them?

If you accept the inheritance.

I won't pay a thing. You're crazy.

- The debts are only about 30,000. - Pardon?

Compared to the value of her apartment,

130 square meters on Saint Louis Island, it's peanuts.

Absolutely.

An island?

In the center of Paris.

Saint Louis Island.

OK, OK.

Nothing else to pay?

Once the death duty has been paid.

You must understand that a deceased artist's catalogue

needs to be developed, do you see?

In recent years, her work

didn't generate much revenue -

60 to 80,000 a year...

Please go back to your seat.

60 to 80 grand a year?

But since her death,

the curve has risen considerably. Look.

Her hits are played again.

And we've had several requests to use her songs.

Now you

must decide if you sell the rights to her songs.

Well, that's the thing.

If it makes money, I'm up for it.

What do commercials pay?

It depends if they want the original or a cover.

How much?

You know her song, "Misplaced Ideas"?

No.

I have misplaced ideas.

You know where

I've already been...

I get the idea.

OK, OK.

We've had a request for a household appliance brand.

How much is it?

Hang on.

They want to change the title, the lyrics...

How much?

Well, they're offering... 23,000 euros.

23 grand?

For 1 minute?

Oh, 30 seconds.

I accept it.

The commercial?

The inheritance, the lot.

My blood.

Doesn't care

about your feelings.

When you lay your lips on my body.

My blood.

So impure, didn't repel your teeth.

When you lick the sap

from my skin.

So glistening.

I passed

naked in the

windows

I saw you.

I let nothing show.

You saw me.

I was your master.

At night, pleasure.

In the morning, melancholy.

And when.

I go after several mouths at once.

Will you be surprised.

That my soul doesn't follow?

Tell me.

When desire rises in me.

Will you be surprised.

That my heart doesn't rise?

I passed naked in the windows.

I saw you

I let nothing show.

You saw me

I was your master.

At night, pleasure.

In the morning, melancholy.

"Offer Subject to Conditions" is just overwhelming. I feel like

I'm seeing my own breakup in it. It's so elegant.

The subtle arrangements, the keyboard loops...

Thank you.

I wanted "My Blood" as an encore.

Next time. Sorry!

- My favorite. - I love it, too.

Even the musicians play well.

Are they pro?

They're musicians.

But they make a living?

Why are you here?

I'm Anthony Denoël.

Yeah, I know.

I forgot your wine and my beer.

I'll come, too.

I ordered wine and...

- Sorry. - No problem.

And a beer.

You are?

I'm José, Marcia's manager.

I discovered her 7 years ago.

It's as if I made her.

But great artists discover themselves.

You just help them blossom.

It's not much.

See you.

What do you want?

I have meetings in Paris.

- Great. - About Daredjane.

Hey, you.

- Come to my next set. - You bet.

Bye.

First time I came to Paris, I saw

a tranny with feathers in the ass.

I see another, then a group of them.

Nuns! Crazy!

Whole neighborhoods of drag queens!

I turn left and come across the Gay Pride parade.

Just sums up Paris.

What do you want?

Well?

Here's my idea.

I realized it's work, being the legal successor.

They ask me lots of stuff.

I don't know Daredjane, but you do.

And?

You can help me.

Hey, I'll pay you.

You tell me what to do, I pay you a salary.

You want to hire me?

Want to hire her?

Unhirable.

You get a cut.

That's not the issue.

It'd only take a few hours a week. For good pay.

15% for me?

Depending on the contracts secured.

Thanks, boss!

- You don't have to decide now. - No.

You order at the bar.

OK. Want another?

Yes, please.

Think of the advantages.

You'll make money,

keep an eye on Daredjane's catalogue, and control the album.

- There's one big disadvantage. - What?

Putting up with that jerk.

- Thanks. - Cheers.

Cheers. Down the hatch.

My tan.

My quiet weakness, man.

You're my ideal, man.

That I looked for elsewhere.

My remedy for fear.

My beautiful mistake.

I sought asylum.

To bury my wounds.

You offer yourself.

Peaceful armor.

My tan, my tan

I'm looking for my tan.

My tan, my tan

I'm looking for my tan.

There we are.

It's a new range of swimsuits.

I like it.

So, the idea...

The thing is, the song is called "My Man".

Not "My Tan".

It's about a person, a male.

"You're my ideal, man."

"Man."

"My quiet weakness, man."

The brand wants to look younger.

So, for the commercial, we thought about

this hit by Daredjane... because...

Because it matches the values

of freedom, insolence, and sensuality

the client wants to convey.

Your thongs aren't in the song.

Marcia, listen to them.

We rearranged the song to blow away the cobwebs.

Cobwebs?

- You're the cobwebs! - Pardon?

They're small changes.

We've kept the spirit of the song.

The song is about her best friend

who died of AIDS. Not fake tan and plastic palm trees.

People'll forget that.

They won't think about it.

So...

the offer on the table is for 30,000.

- That doesn't work, does it? - No.

We want at least 45,000.

Daredjane's celebrity comes at a price.

Think it over.

Coming?

Goodbye.

Have a good day.

Think I can get more?

The jerks turned "My Man" into muzak to sell their shitty thongs!

I like it.

Try to put yourself in her shoes.

Would she have said yes?

Did Daredjane do commercials?

No. So, why do you say yes?

Anthony Denoël.

We thought it over. It's no.

We don't have to explain.

Thanks. Bye.

- There. Give me the key. - The key?

To Daredjane's place.

You don't need it, it's my place now.

Thanks. Have a nice day.

Excuse me, I'm Marcia. I called you, I'm a singer.

Well, I'm a young singer...

No, I don't like young singers.

I love your work. I mean it.

Go on, beat it.

Go home to mommy.

- I didn't hurt you? - You did.

You can still walk on one foot!

Here, take this stool.

Get on it and take off...

OK.

It was nice of you.

To organize my farewell party.

Your suitcases are in front of me My door's shut.

The dog is old.

Denis.

Why are you still under my feet?

Denis.

What are you spitting in my face?

Take your bed, beer.

Your smokes, your airport novels.

Your anger, your blues

I'll pass them on for free To another sucker.

Denis.

Why are you still bugging me?

- I swear to God, I'm gonna... - Watch it, fatso!

- Take your stuff! - Beat it!

Marshal, he took J3!

- It's my place! - What did you say?

It's my place!

- It's a big deal! - How old are you?

Get off my back!

Beat it!

Enough!

Do your job! Don't be such a pussy!

It's my place!

See, it's a sentence. And that's the punctuation.

The position is crucial.

The sun hits the phalanx.

That stays in shadow

slightly.

Then the climax expresses itself!

Great!

My girl's sculptures in public!

See that?

People will see this, even after my death!

Wait!

The pretext of modern art is too much. They're scumbags and hypocrites!

It's disgusting.

You don't like them?

Who cares? Nobody cares!

I think it's pretty.

What about the shape of the sculptures?

Why did the mayor choose them?

'Cause they're round.

'Cause you can't lie down on them!

Not for the artist's talent.

Did you know?

What?

About the homeless?

You knew that's why you got the gig?

You can't sit on your "Eventualities".

Well?

What?

The bums can sit somewhere else.

It's no biggie.

Anyway, maybe they like modern art.

Modern art isn't just for the elite.

I make public art.

You can't endorse that!

Stop being such a saint.

I should've thrown 'em all in the canal!

You big slut.

They say of me.

You big slut.

Tramp.

Bitch.

Whore.

You big slut.

They say of me.

They say of me.

But...

what they don't know

is...

Anthony Denoël.

I don't understand, there's a cable blocking Daredjane's door.

Can you come help me?

Please...

Give me a boost.

Great.

What a mess.

This needs a big clean-up.

Regretting.

That you didn't really know me.

The raw milk lights.

And the deserted fire.

Throwing myself.

Throwing myself.

Throwing myself.

Into the unknown.

Rising slightly.

Above...

Throwing myself.

Into the unknown.

Throwing myself.

Changing my skin.

Flying away.

Let's release it.

- I thought it reeked of death! - No.

It doesn't reek anymore.

You sing well. Your songs are good.

Don't bother. I'll never live up to her.

Why compare yourself?

Her charisma, her talent, all she overcame and went through...

She's no superhero.

Artists back then

fought for our rights, but now we have nothing to say.

I was the Ay-rab

I was the Ay-rab, in that family

of fakes, I was the Ay-rab.

That's her way of reversing things. A bastard rejected by all,

she puts her rage in her... work

and writes a song for the bastards and others.

It's not true. Her father wasn't an oud player.

What?

She made it up. She wasn't a bastard or an "Ay-rab".

Bullshit!

- She did it for show. - I thought you didn't know her.

Her father wasn't mean. He was a bank clerk.

She poured bile on him.

That was Daredjane.

What do you know? Do you have proof of that?

Look.

Your pal Daredjane and her father.

Do her parents really look that bad?

What're you doing?

Seizing a moment of weakness.

No.

No, that's exactly what I said to myself.

- I'll go. - Don't go on my account.

I have a party on my houseboat.

- Your houseboat? - I live on a houseboat.

Couldn't find an apartment?

It's because I like it.

I'm up for it.

Are we going?

I am.

It's to provide a subtle message...

Here she is.

We waited for you.

Now you're here, let's do that toast.

To Ivry's "Eventualities"!

What do you want?

- I'm a friend of Marcia's. - Are you?

She told me to come by.

Anthony Denoël, hi.

Let him in. He's a friend.

- Sorry. - OK?

Daredjane's heir.

The asshole?

He looks the part.

You followed me here?

I went to every houseboat.

What are you hoping for?

What am I hoping for?

Everything. To ravish you,

beat up my rivals,

build you a castle, buy you a Lamborghini.

- A what? - A big car.

You sure can speak to women!

Well, I...

How can I put it?

I realized that...

Want something to eat?

It's OK.

Hello.

I'm Ivry, Marcia's girl.

Ivry... like the town Ivry-sur-Seine?

Ivry Gitlis.

Where's Gitlis?

A violinist my parents admired.

I'm Anthony, no relation to Anthony Joshua!

Sure you won't have a bite?

Well, no.

I feel a fool.

Coming?

Make yourself... at home.

If you want a drink...

- Is this yours? May I? - Sure.

I'm Anthony.

Excuse me.

- May I? - OK.

Give me the cable.

Thanks.

Get 'em dancing!

There we are!

That's what I'm talking about!

Gotta use the shoulders.

Listen to this.

And then...

Who the hell put that on?

Taste police. Who put that music on?

I did.

Cool dance music, huh?

Mega cool!

It's not bad, but we'll educate you.

We'll change it.

Take back control.

If you don't like it, you can go.

I like it.

The local supermarket needs a DJ.

Funny!

Go have a look.

I'm sorry.

- What for? - How they spoke to you.

I don't give a fuck.

They're not my pals.

They're Ivry's.

Your chick.

Yes... No.

Not anymore.

Really?

Since when?

Since...

Alright?

Am I disturbing you?

A bit.

You're crazy!

Insane!

It's cold at first, but you get used to it.

Look at the bikes down there.

It's beautiful.

How can I thank you?

I didn't know how to leave her.

You took the plunge.

Yep.

But...

just to be clear...

it was a...

a parting kiss, not a starting one.

- A closing kiss. - Right.

Not an opening one.

- You're a good closer! - So I've heard.

- You know her bedroom? - Yeah.

OK...

Now what?

We get undressed.

'Cause we're wet.

Yeah.

Do you want...

Are you serious?

She recorded with Dominique Rocheteau?

They were lovers.

What? Him and Daredjane?!

- Let's see if you've progressed. - Try me.

Don't look.

It's not even the suburbs It's Bures-sur-Yvette.

- She sang about Bures? - You don't know it?

One of her earliest.

Trashing us?

The title?

I don't know.

"Bures-sur-Yvette"! You suck!

Another one.

You're a...

Bures-sur-Yvettois? A Bures-Yvettin?

A Buressois.

I'm going tomorrow. I can show you around.

A girl like you wouldn't choose to go.

- How do you know? - Well...

Next.

I'll undo a button

for each right answer to encourage you.

"You Big Slut."

Yeah. "You Big Slut." From 1995.

On Plague Street.

Well done. I'm punished.

Another...

Very well-known.

I know this song. What's it called?

You know where

- "You Know Where." - Too bad!

"Misplaced Ideas." From 1989.

- You're cheating. - Yeah.

Is that...

- A closing kiss? - Opening.

So, you...

and guys...?

What?

You're gender fluid, right?

No.

You'd say...

"She swings both ways!"

What do you take me for?

I have misplaced ideas.

You know where.

I've already been.

I lie high and dry.

Near unknown lands.

I'm like virgin islands.

Already lost.

I have misplaced ideas.

A twisted mind.

I mix up dirty thoughts.

Over to you, angel.

I enjoy a view.

Which is almost unrestricted.

I give my all.

To losers.

Misplaced ideas.

Misplaced ideas...

I feel

I'd benefit from a stay in Paris.

You don't speak normally anymore. How long for?

6 months, until Daredjane's affairs are settled,

I promise.

- We're history. - Is it that bitch singer?

No.

What will you do in Paris? We liked you.

Meaning?

- We'll die of love. - Or something else.

Hang on...

Think something happened with Julie?

No, I don't think so.

Julie, think something happened with Aïssa?

No way. That's gross.

OK, you scared me.

2 hot chicks here are worth more than a bitch in Paris!

It's not 'cause of her. Stop that.

So, when guys do something, there has to be a chick?

Not guys, just you.

We'll look elsewhere.

I already have.

OK...

Talk to me about love.

If you still remember.

Tell me tender, strong words.

If you still remember.

Talk to me about love.

Talk to me about love.

Our regrets, our reproaches Our exes and our 20s.

Our nights watching TV The good and bad guys.

It's boring.

We talk always the same things.

Let's change our tune.

Talk to me about love.

If you still remember.

Tell me

tender, strong words.

If you still remember.

Talk to me of the times.

When we really listened to each other.

Since we're not deaf.

If you still remember.

Talk to me about love.

Welcome to Drunk-sur-Yvette!

I could live here forever.

- You're joking. - Sure!

"I Didn't Think You Were So Close." 1987. Her duet with Dominique Rocheteau.

You've studied.

I didn't think you were so close

I didn't mean to kiss you.

When you turned your head I saw the bug.

Which flew away.

I didn't think you were so close

I didn't really kiss you.

My eyes saw the insect My lips hit your head.

But is it a kiss?

We didn't mean.

To bug you.

Close your eyes.

- Close my eyes? - Yes.

Why?

OK.

- I know where we are. - I know.

You didn't?

No, I didn't.

I didn't book 2 weeks for you to finish the album.

The idea is to keep the live feel.

Maybe add some warmth to the voice,

some clarinet, a bass line...

But above all, to keep what we did together:

the emotion.

OK, let's listen.

It's piano and voice.

We didn't have time to finish "Others' Joys".

Those fleeting pleasures.

Those narrow beds.

Those unmade beds.

When the future

is cold.

Is cold.

In others' joys.

We saw ourselves together.

Together.

Jérôme, how about...

- OK? - Let's try.

Great.

What do you think?

Well?

Isn't it a bit...

Go on.

Sad?

You're a pain.

You can be sad. And it's melancholy.

OK.

I'll shut up.

- OK, let's listen. - Yes.

Here goes.

It interferes with the sound, so it's a pain. Play a bit softer.

Hey.

- You're Gary Wild? - Yes.

I saw your show in Tours.

Yeah, it was crowded. Sorry, I didn't see you.

It was shit hot.

Are you recording a new album?

Yeah, that's right.

Me too. Not mine. It's Daredjane's.

Daredjane's dead.

Yes,

it's her posthumous album. I'm her great-nephew.

And her heir.

No shit?

It was really good back in the day.

Want to listen?

No, I'm working.

2 minutes.

2 minutes. There's coffee.

- I got coffee. - And candy.

Man...

Just 2 minutes. No problem.

OK, guys, I'll be right back. Be quick.

Thanks.

- After you. - If I have to.

Marcia, look who's here.

Hi.

Guillaume...

- Where's Marcia? - Getting a coffee.

Gary Wild!

Yeah.

Can you play Gary a track?

How about "Throwing Myself Into the Unknown"?

- Is that the title? - It's not finished, OK?

It's just for your opinion.

Not bad.

She could still sing.

- Do you like it? - Yeah.

I'd have...

- But it's your thing... - Go on.

Maybe we can make it a bit brighter. It's good, but...

It's all a bit samey.

It could be a bit smoother.

Like... a smoothie?

No.

- Can I try something? - Be my guest.

Can you get rid of the violins? That violin loop is...

It's syrupy... sickly sweet.

Get rid of 'em.

Hello? The violins.

Good.

And the piano's a pain. It's like watching...

a scary movie.

The bass is good, but not great.

Get rid of it.

Just the voice.

Great. That's better.

Give me some FX on the voice.

Put 120 BPM. Bring it down, it'll sound younger.

That's it.

Hear that? Bam!

Now add some deep-tech bass. There you go!

That hits you.

I'll add some violin.

Great.

Do a break in the beat.

Then, 2 patterns:

one a bit disco and one Brazilian to make it exotic.

You've never been to Brazil? OK, something else exotic.

It's too French. Give me exotic!

That's it! Punta Cana! My feet in the sand!

- The guitar's a good idea. - Cool.

Not that one. Something more...

- That's great. - Yeah.

- What's that? - Wah-wah.

- What? - Wah-wah. Don't talk when I'm...

How about some piano?

That's a good idea.

It's amazing.

Yeah, but don't talk when I'm...

I'll add some electro synth.

Incredible!

Do you hear that unpleasant noise?

Get rid of that. It's no good.

Bad vocals.

Now everything without the...

the chick who's in pain.

That's it.

What're you doing?

Marcia, Gary Wild.

Isn't it great?

What got into you?

Excuse me...

Excuse you!

- Sorry? - Yeah.

Excuse me...

What do you do?

What do I do? And you?

What do you do on the album?

This is crazy.

A lovers' tiff.

There's no problem.

It looks like it.

Look, I'll leave you to it.

- It's good now. - Thanks.

- Better than before. - Thanks.

- Come with me. - I'm coming.

Gary fuckin' Wild!

I thought what he did was fun.

That's all.

- Fun? - Yeah, I like it.

What do you know about music?

Nothing.

I know what I like. It's a matter of taste.

How could you?

I persuaded Daredjane to do that song.

I shared it with her, I wrote it with her.

I wrote the second part.

The diminished 7th, the arrangements...

What's this?

Us two.

What are you doing? Stop it.

It's just a memento.

I don't want to be seen anymore.

She didn't want to be filmed.

You're not so pure.

I'm her worthy successor.

So, what am I?

Unworthy?

Just a hick who got lucky.

A hick who got lucky?

You've always thought it of me, huh?

That's what your kind think of my kind.

Well...

here's to us.

- To us. - What do you want?

Remember Nougaro?

By the late 80s, he was finished.

He had no record label, no producer... Then he met

a young producer and did "Nougayork", right?

Mega bass, mega synths, mega hit.

What do you want?

You know how much Tony and I love you.

No.

How much?

No, not like that.

When he played me the track remixed by Gary,

I thought it was huge.

It has real potential.

It's thanks to you and Daredjane that it exists.

That's why we want you to partner with us.

With you?

Yes.

I want to make her popular.

Like Dalida after her death.

That's exactly what we want to do: do with Daredjane

what they did with Dalida.

Her wild ways

didn't help her throughout her life.

But now they can...

to build a legend.

If it's a hit, people will listen to the rest.

That'd be good

for her... and for us all.

So...

you work with Gary on the album...

he signs the arrangements of the album you composed with Daredjane...

No-one contests that.

And if it's a hit...

I won't sign that shit.

Hang on, it's a shame...

Tony wants you to be part of it.

You heard me.

- Well... - You know the score.

- You've considered it. - Yes.

You're a fast learner.

Well done.

We're done.

You're angry. You'll be back. You're like my daughter.

Lucky I'm not! If I were, I'd look like an asshole!

We admire you.

Shut up. Shut the fuck up.

Wait...

I'm taking a big risk here.

What risk?

Of losing you.

It's no longer a risk.

I thought

of "Daredjane, Burning Life" as the title.

A Life Burned.

"A Life Burned"?

No, I thought that "Burning Life"...

was more... No?

I understand.

But no.

Sheriff.

It's on every playlist. Gary Wild, you did "Throwing Myself" with Daredjane.

I also organized

the auction of Daredjane's personal effects.

Listen to this.

Well, I've always been a fan of Daredjane.

That may surprise people,

but I've always thought she was rad. When her great-nephew there

came to see me and said:

"Man, I want you to do the album."

I was like: "Yeah, it's true, I'm the only one who can do it."

And I made the hit you all know.

What did you work with?

Shortly before she died, she'd recorded stuff at home.

It wasn't...

It was rough.

I mean, he played it to me, I was like: "Find someone else."

Then we discussed it. I took it over

and put it in my ideas mixer.

2 minutes, I mix it all up, add this and that.

And we've made Daredjane global,

you know? She's international now.

We screwed borders good and hard!

The result is spectacular.

- Bravo. - Bravo, thanks.

Thanks, man. Gary Wild!

He didn't mention Marcia.

I asked him to.

You're right.

Guys...

I mean, Marcia's nice.

Why...?

A LIFE BURNED

I give you one week.

OK, I said I'd find a solution...

Or you're out.

- Why... - I've told you before!

- Calm down. - 560 euros.

I know it's 560 euros. I've been paying it.

Yes, well, just go.

The port's filthy.

Move your shitty hipster boat!

- My what? - Shitty hipster boat.

Two-bit slumlord!

Whatever.

Which song is it for?

Yeah.

No, that's not Daredjane. What's the brand?

Tanning cream?

Stage outfit.

Yeah, they want to rejuvenate the brand. Daredjane's music is ideal.

Green Angel. Rocheteau.

Daredjane wouldn't have accepted it. Nor will I.

That's Daredjane.

For the starting price, how about 28,500?

Well?

For that?

It's totally iconic.

OK. Set and video section.

Sorry.

Hello. No, not for a short film.

Dominique!

No, sorry. Not for a short film.

I didn't think you were so close

I didn't mean to kiss you.

When you turned your head I saw the bug.

Which flew away.

Stop.

I didn't think...

Fuckin' stop!

Because of my voice?

Yes!

Sorry.

I've always been stigmatized over it.

But singing out of tune is still singing.

We have this pen, a key piece of the collection

because she used it to write "Throwing Myself".

It'll fetch a good price.

Why?

It was Marcia's, not Daredjane's.

- Who? - Marcia the singer.

A living singer?

Marcia...

You're on at the start in 10 minutes.

No-one's here. Can't we switch?

No, impossible. After, there's Raoul, Raisin...

- Will anyone be here? - Yes.

- How do you know? - I just do.

- There's no-one. - There's lots of artists.

- An hour later. - It's not possible.

What's your name?

Marion.

You're on next to last. Get ready.

All the feathers on my back.

Change according to the weather.

My smile is white and proud.

And I often fall and limp

I promise I'll get better.

So, where are you from?

I grew up in Sri Lanka

and that's why I care for elephants.

This is Ernestine.

This little lady is my favorite thing from my childhood.

Symbolically, it's important.

I cut her ear. And to me, that means lots of things.

I take her everywhere, even on stage. She's my lucky charm.

Hey.

You here?

Look. I was rummaging around Daredjane's.

I found this.

- Thanks. - A memento.

And...

I...

played your version of the album again.

I thought that maybe

we could release it.

It's too late, Anthony.

I miss you.

You're on.

Wait.

Hey!

Get off me!

Hello.

My name's Marcia.

I'm a singer and...

That's all.

Throwing myself.

Into the unknown.

And joining

the naked stars dancing.

Mom's smile.

And her outstretched hand.

Throwing myself.

Covering Daredjane!

Too easy!

Hello, everyone.

I'm Fenix with an F.

I'm so happy to be here tonight.

It's a winter.

Half a winter.

I want more.

I've had enough.

I can see you coming When I am sick.

Of getting back on my feet.

Marcia...

As I tidied Daredjane's things,

I found a film she'd hidden.

It's from April 1960.

She's pregnant

and with a young man.

She was in love with the oud player, not her mother.

She had his baby.

She transposed her story onto her mother's.

I was the "Ay-rab".

When she gave birth, her parents made her abandon the kid.

They wouldn't hear of the oud player.

Daredjane was 19.

Underage back then.

She had no choice.

She was right.

Her folks were fuckers.

I found her son. His name's Nacer Fontaine.

She was a star back then.

He's in his 60s now.

He's her legal heir.

She smoked and drank.

- Was she famous? - Very.

I'll give him what's his. I don't like it anymore.

Thanks to that, we met.

Because of it, we parted.

I want to devote myself to you.

And release your 2nd album.

And...

Maybe we could start over.

I love your songs.

You have incredible talent. I know you do.

And you're beautiful.

You say that because you want to sleep with me.

Yes, of course,

but not just that.

I mean it. But I'll gladly sleep with you.

Where are you? I'll join you.

Anthony...

It's too late.

No.

I've done my little number. That's it.

I was talked about for an hour.

A day, maybe.

On to the next now.

Not you. You'll last. I know you will.

Since I've been a singer...

my anxiety wins out over my pleasure every time.

So, what's the point?

Why put myself through that?

I'm sorry.

Good luck.

You'll be a success.

I wish you all the best.

And I mean it.

Marcia,

what about us?

The Ay-rab.

Daredjane: The Lady in Green.

I Didn't Think You Were So Close.

Gentle yet fierce.

Misplaced Ideas.

It's A Winter.

Bitch!