Original subtitles

Vulcani The Vermouth of Champions

We're giving ourselves a lot of trouble for nothing.

There's no one to drink that.

We sold two cases yesterday.

Of course it wasn't easy.

I told them the story of your burial!

With the poor man's hearse and me behind it,

in the rain, wearing clogs.

I keep adding rainfall to that story. Soon I'll add snow!

Clients are becoming tyrannical.

No! Not that. Wait.

Soft drinks make them angry.

It gives them stomach acid.

If only you'd known those Saturday nights...

When the paycheck would go from the shop to the beer tab.

Now the paycheck goes into gas.

- You're leaving? - I have to, Mom.

Fine. I'm going to Vaillance to have a drink.

Later on I'll go see Mrs. Bérange.

She just received Calvados from her niece in Normandy.

Say "hi" for me.

And don't commemorate too much. Don't tire your memory.

Don't come in too late.

Don't miss that step this time, hey Mom?

The volcano

was once a symbol of strength,

but it's now become man's friend. A benefactor.

Vulcani comforts in the winter and refreshes in the summer.

It also stimulates the lymphatic system.

It's an explosion of dreams that offers meditation to poets.

Vulcani is not advertised on television.

It allows the genius of humanity

to penetrate the jumble of the consumer's life.

For every dozen bottles you buy, Vulcani offers you

ashtrays molded in volcanic lava,

...and this!

The aristocracy of Westminster. The resilience of Besançon.

Swiss know-how

and Parisian chic.

Tell me, Antoine.

Aren't you ashamed of selling poison?

It's not actually poison.

I admit it may look like it, but it's not.

Some people did end up at the asylum!

Some ended up with swollen hands or feet,

but never their head.

And you find that normal?

Why don't we change the subject?

What do you know about life, Léonce?

I saw the bad times coming a long time ago.

Real bad times.

War.

Peace.

Then Éloïse.

Éloïse was probably not right for me.

She looked like a princess with large breasts,

and a distinguished air...

A little bit like you, Mrs. Léonce.

She was hoping

I'd lead a triple star career.

She left me for a Martini representative.

She lives in Le Vésinet,

in a house with a willow tree and a fishpond.

It doesn't beat Enghien.

I don't see what's the point.

Enghien is unique.

At night it looks like Austria.

Maybe that's where I'll end up.

After going further and further away.

I've no more customers in Paris.

Some bars even close when they see me coming.

I'm sinking deeper and deeper.

The outskirts. And soon, provincial towns.

And one day, abroad.

Then no one will see me again.

Just like those old soda salesmen who were gone one day.

Maybe I should do the same.

Why do you say that, Monsieur Antoine?

She's right, why?

What can I say? I sell stuff no one wants.

Just put me to sleep or give me a rope to hang myself.

Okay, I'll buy you a case.

- One? Out of charity? - They're impossible to sell!

I'm not asking you to sell, but to buy.

Don't forget. With two cases you get the clock.

With all the ones I have I could fill my storefront.

I'm not a clockmaker!

Soon I'll need a storage room.

Sometimes I wonder if you have a heart, Léonce.

You're rather terse.

Fine. I'll take two cases.

But don't come back before at least 6 months.

Did I ever impose myself?

HOW TO MAKE GOOD WHEN ONE IS A JERK AND A CRYBABY

What are you complaining about!

You're involved in a profitable company.

- So? - You call passing the hat

"being involved?" I'm an artist, not a beggar.

Artists like you are a dime a dozen.

And assholes like you are even easier to find!

Mind you own business.

Foisnard and me are together.

If you fire him, I'll go show my ass elsewhere.

Yes, but not to Foisnard. For what it's worth for him...

Okay, fine.

Monsieur got carried away. I'm sure he's sorry.

Talented as you are!

To think you're wasting your career with a loser like that.

If only you'd listen to me.

I could change from a loser to someone pretentious.

Foisnard's crazy, but he knows it. That's how I like 'em, hey baby?

I don't want to brag, but in terms of stupidity...

Some aristocrats and social climbers can also be assholes.

So! Are we staying or leaving?

You can't leave now! Busloads of Belgians are on their way!

Flat rate for Foisnard?

I see you're having fun...

Well! The threesome is complete.

If you came to peddle your clocks, out!

- I'm not here for that. - Good.

And you. Are you here to rehearse?

- We're not at percentage. - No, you're flat rate.

For two minutes. That's why he said that.

He won't be here for long. If it wasn't for the girl.

Did you hear how she talks to me? She really opens up.

She likes me, that's all.

Why are you here?

Don't worry I sold some today.

Her name is Marie-Josée.

I met her three weeks ago under unusual circumstances...

You don't have to tell me.

Since then I have dinner with her every other night,

in candle-lit restaurants.

I take her home, kiss her and wait for the light to come on.

Why don't I go in?

It would probably be in bad taste.

You wouldn't understand.

I can see her big brown eyes from here.

What a look! You can't imagine.

Look at that...

When I'm with her I'm at a loss for words.

I'm blocked. Yet I'd have a lot to say, you know that.

But if I tell her "I love you" out of the blue...

I can see her flowery eyes from here... And yet.

Tell her what your father used to say to your mother,

since she was so distinguished. She called him Mr. Barfly,

- Bottoms Up or Clobbered Head. - That's my dad!

What's all that talking about?

Good for you! I feel the same!

Who asked you, asshole?

What a teaser!

I've created a true bomb no woman can resist.

This morning, a pigeon landed on my window sill,

but I know...

He's not even playing anymore.

O angel of softness!

Soothe my suffering

with the graceful charm of your kindness.

I've gathered all of the evening's teardrops for you.

Say yes.

What do you think?

Send it C.O.D.

It would lessen the impact. She likes my voice.

Recite it to her.

I'd never be able to...

Record it and send her a copy.

You're a genius, Foisnard!

Yeah.

O angel of softness!

Soothe my suffering

with the graceful charm of your kindness.

I've gathered all of the evening's teardrops for you.

Say yes.

O angel of softness!

Soothe my suffering

with the graceful charm of your kindness.

- These flowers are pretty. - You don't deserve them.

How could you do such a thing?

After calling you my angel of softness? Didn't you know?

Well, just wait.

I brought you this. It's simple, but it's nice.

Like all great things.

With a moving passage.

We could play it once in a while.

Is it Pink Floyd?

No but...

it's moving just the same.

It's really interesting for us. For the future.

- Promise not to cry? - I'd have preferred Pink Floyd.

To die for such a stupid reason.

I decided to end it all at the stroke of midnight.

You waited for me until midnight?

Not really. I just came to say I wouldn't be able to make it.

I had a date with Gérard, but he didn't show up.

Who's Gérard?

Gégé!

The hotel director.

My boss.

I'm crazy about him. He's crazy about me.

We're crazy about each other.

We have wild sex. It's incredible.

Unfortunately, it's every other night.

On the days we're not together?

How did you guess?

Just like that.

He has to go home once in a while to care for his jellyfish.

- He's raising a jellyfish? - A monster. His wife.

She's horrible. The poor soul feels sorry for her.

He got married against his will?

They don't sleep together?

You really have psychic powers!

- Why doesn't he divorce? - The poor darling has to eat!

The hotel belongs to his wife, his house too, and all else.

Plus she's jealous! Imagine! She has no breasts.

She's got lobster eyes and she's jealous!

She thinks Gégé cheats!

- Darling! - Gégé!

Why did you do that, you crazy little thing!

When I saw you had no line I ran to see you. Building was gone!

The concierge is shell-shocked. She thinks we're in 1916,

and that Paris has just been bombed.

You're spoiling me!

My darling!

When the police gave me your letter signed "Little bird,"

I thought...

- I thought... - My heart had stopped beating,

and that it was icy cold.

Yes. Exactly.

Now promise to behave!

As soon as you get better we'll go somewhere.

Really? You swear?

I've booked the plane tickets, the hotel, everything.

It'll be just you and me.

Naked. Sunbathing.

- Where? - Malibu Beach.

Exactly.

It was either that or Tahiti.

I can already see us under the straw hut.

With the radio and ice-cold drinks.

- What about your wife? - My wife?

The hell with her.

- What an asshole. - Your wife?

No. Her!

It's her third suicide attempt.

First by drowning, then electrocution and now gas.

Water, gas and electricity.

Exactly.

My worst fault is that I don't know how to break up.

I'm stuck to her even if she's no great shakes.

Hardheaded and jelly-assed. The opposite of what I like.

She's got flowery eyes.

A poetic silhouette.

- She's blonde. - Not even!

- Pleasure meeting you, dear sir. - See you soon, Gérard.

You're in the restaurant business?

- Yes. - I sell liquor.

We'll surely do business together.

Let's have dinner sometimes.

But my wife's cooking is unfit for humans.

We'll go to a restaurant and maybe I'll bring a friend.

Will she be out of hospital?

Whether it's keys, razors or women, I always have a back-up.

- Hello. - Hello.

- Your boss is not here? - No.

I've brought him a gift I'm sure he'll enjoy.

Gégé is out for his daily jogging session.

He looks great for 45!

I'm happy to see you're better. You look great.

Just great.

- No more dark thoughts? - Over and done.

I've realized it's the other bitch who should die. Not me.

- Miss, I have a message. - Just a moment.

Say that again?

Ever seen Saint Michael crushing the snake?

That's how I'll crush that Medusa.

Marie-Jo, sweetie, I admire your devotion,

- Please, miss! - One second!

I admire your devotion, but...

Don't do something stupid...

- Too late! - Meaning?

I went to the monster's lair and sawed the steering bar off.

- I need more important info... - Than this? I doubt it.

Do you realize what you've done?

I do very well.

At the first turn, that bitch hits a tree.

At worst, she has to go to America to be patched up,

but I get to see Gégé every night.

At best, Gégé becomes a widower and I get to marry him.

Mrs. Malempin!

Mrs. Malempin!

Mrs. Malempin!

Gérard!

My dear Gérard!

Mrs. Malempin!

Sorry, miss. I thought you were Mrs. Malempin.

I am Mrs. Malempin.

I'm not here to make jokes.

Neither am I. But I am Mrs. Malempin.

I know Mrs. Malempin very well and she's...

Mrs. Malempin has lobster eyes, so...

My husband likes to say I'm goitrous, prognathous

and stricken with mental stupor.

- Really? - Yes.

I'm so confused, Madam!

Thoroughly confused!

But I prefer this.

You don't have lobster eyes. Quite the contrary,

they're very expressive, very pretty and very...

Very elegant.

- But who are you, sir? - Zorro.

You were tied to the tracks, the train was approaching...

Thank God, I got here on time.

Antoine Robineau, wines and spirits.

Madam, some people are hatching a plot against you.

Who are they?

In circumstances I shall not disclose,

someone whose name shall remain secret

has told me things I can't repeat.

But roughly put, the idea was to have you crash into a tree,

- and leave you there. - The little slut told you that?

Yes.

Up until now, she was suicidal. Fine. Don Juan'll pay the bill.

My husband's having a tough midlife crisis.

What will this klutz come up with next?

Madam,

may I inspect your car?

What?

It's vital.

How original! You have the same car as your husband.

No, he has the same as me. I ended up buying him one.

My car was always full of

dirty combs and cigarette stubs, and smelled like cheap perfume.

Madam, I am dumbfounded. The mystery deepens.

The plot thickens!

Was I fooled?

Your steering bar is intact.

All there's left for me to do is leave.

Reassured, yet confused.

Extraordinarily confused.

It's only in bad movies that cars are driven off cliffs.

In real life, people simply stop at a garage.

How quiet!

What a beautiful place!

- How wonderful! - You like?

It's magical! A larch...

Canonical!

Oak trees... centuries old.

- A willow... - A weeping one.

- Geese! - Swans!

"O lake! The year has scarcely spun its course.

"Now, by the waves she meant to see again,

"Watch how I sit, alone, upon this stone

"On which you saw her then," etc.

There's money to be made.

PLM Saint-Jacques, hello?

Someone called from Marmottan. The boss had a car accident.

Is it serious?

The boss is in the hospital.

Several fractures, maybe even the spine.

They're waiting for the X-rays.

The spine... Everything! He's in pieces!

He's in a coma. He's done for. What do we do?

Get Henri to collect money. He's honest. He does a good job.

Chipping in for the wreath?

- What wreath? - The boss died in a car crash.

- The attendant's not here? - Poor girl...

- What do you mean? - She shouted out

- and then she ran off. - Where to?

- Under a bus most likely. - What?

She loved our boss so much!

She no longer does? She left, because she no longer does?

He's dead!

Goddammit!

We all loved him.

We collected 2,772.15 francs.

Gas on every floor

You were right, she's a pain in the neck!

I didn't expect to see you again so soon.

Me neither!

Number 12 and 14, keep it down!

Miss, can you move our beds closer so we can chat?

Then what? We already did once and see how that worked out!

Swine!

- She's not easy-going! - They call her Miss Crabby.

How did it happen?

Normally.

I felt my car pulling to the right.

So I thought, "Oh well, it's pulling to the right."

Then a mechanic I had never seen

yelled, "Looks like your car's pulling to the right!"

Well, that mechanic is on the upper floor now.

Ever noticed how quick things go?

Ever hit a gas pump, floored the mechanic

and smashed into 28 cars all at once?

Since we're giving out funny examples...

What happens when you ring a doorbell?

- Someone opens the door? - No, that was yesterday.

Today, you go straight into an ambulance.

An era of fury and upheaval is upon us...

In Nostradamus' predictions...

- Don't touch! - It's confiscated.

Transistors are forbidden.

- It's a tape-recorder! - Same thing!

- It doesn't play, it talks! - Talks nonsense all right!

- What's going on? - He has a tape-recorder.

Give it to me.

"This morning, at the crossroads,

"a pigeon settled in.

"As I was confiding in him my heart's secrets,

"he flew towards you.

"But I know that tomorrow

"the bird will come back.

"And depending on your answer, bring back a smile to my face.

"O angel of softness..."

I'm sure you're not wearing a bra.

Disgusting. I'll tell the head nurse.

- Are you working tonight? - I'll work something out.

"I've gathered all of the evening's teardrops..."

How beautiful!

"Say yes..."

Beautiful!

Bravo!

- You're not cold? - No. I'm OK.

You need to be looked after like a kid.

When you need something, just say it!

What's wrong with him?

What's wrong?

I'm not used to being pampered like this.

You're babying me too much!

Nobody's ever taken care of me. Except for Mommy.

Thanks to you Miss Jean, I have a family, a home...

meaning in my life.

Mom would be happy to see me here,

much like the doctor.

Taking fresh air!

How could I ever pay you back?

I'll buy you a chiming clock.

Not the plastic volcano kind?

Yes, why?

It's got a plastic volcano? What else?

Lights... and at noon it sings "Santa Lucia."

Really?

Can't make that stuff up.

You're not a good person. I'll tell you something...

What do we do? We take the train...

It'd be more reasonable to take 4 o'clock tea.

All right. So, one, two, three teas.

If you don't mind, I'd rather have soup.

Every night at 4 p.m., mom makes me split pea soup.

You think we've split pea soup?

Well, go buy some.

Where?

You can find it everywhere.

Of course.

Please, don't put yourself out.

Say, Antoine, are you chatting me up?

Ah, dear Cécile...

"Ah, dear Cécile..."

Home sweet home...

- That's what you were about to say. - Yes.

I think being apart from you brought me closer to you,

made me more human... Yes...

More receptive.

Are you hoping to break up with me soon

or to become the cemetery's most receptive man?

That certain someone was unruly, but she meant no harm.

No, she meant to have me hit a tree.

I don't know who told you this...

A gentleman.

"A gentleman"...

When you'll want to learn about elegance,

true elegance, elegance of the heart,

I'll introduce you to Antoine Robineau.

The wine tanker? The gnome? The man with crayfish eyes?

Perhaps I saw him through my lobster eyes.

He was here.

On this very spot. And he looked at the swans.

It was wonderful! Some of his lines of poetry

are still running through my head.

O angel of softness!

Soothe my suffering

with the graceful charm of your kindness.

I've gathered all of the evening's teardrops.

Say yes.

You'll sweep her off her feet.

Nobody can resist arpeggios.

I saw man-eaters swoon. Just like this.

Barcarolle style. And the worst bitches succumb. It's magical.

It blocks their cerebellum.

Let's play it again, in case you forgot some notes...

little traps.

"O angel of softness!

"Soothe my suffering

"with the graceful charm of your kindness..."

Say, Foisnard, it's not true what you've just played now!

You were screwing with me? You think I'm an idiot!

Your three little notes, your lame refrains...

You got talent, you bastard!

- It's true you got talent... - Did anyone ask you?

Listen... I swear I suck and it's not recent.

Eight years of training and I can only play

"Ma poupée chérie" with one finger.

The teaching staff was crying.

It was useless speaking softly, I only cared for the tuba.

My mother insisted.

So I couldn't last three days at the Bilboquet.

And at the Dumesnil, I was sacked in the middle of a party.

That's something, no?

You played like a prince! You've been fooling me for over a year!

Don't exaggerate! It's not like you lived with Beethoven.

I didn't say it was genious. I said it was good.

It's already too much!

Listen...

Give me another chance.

I wrote some lousy things.

Like "Love Toy"...

No more notes!

You lied too much.

But you're in luck!

I'll forgive the musician because of the lyricist,

since your lyrics are downright stupid.

I wrote them.

My visit is the consequence of a dying soul's wish.

I swore to myself, "Antoine, if you come out of this alive,

"the first thing you do is visit the lady in Nemours.

"The swan lady."

Death didn't want me. So here I am.

Look at what fell from heaven!

Are you a fairy or a witch?

A ravishing young woman alone,

gazing at the icy and solitary grounds of my castle.

Are you waiting for someone?

- What do you care? - A working-class lass.

Must be a friend of the navigator.

- What's that? - Something silly.

Nothing.

I thought it would please you.

It's not very common.

It's original, it's...

It's a specimen...

I'm sorry!

I'm used to it.

Being laughed at.

It's only because I was surprised.

When I was little...

It's chiming!

48 times a day. Every quarter hour.

A true companion.

See? There it goes again!

I was wondering how you were doing.

- Didn't my wife tell you? - She says you're better.

- Bicycling helps a lot. - Boating does it for me.

Beware of the humidity.

Depends how humid it is.

Did your doctor mention algae baths?

- I'm going to Quiberon. - I hear it's worth it.

It seems.

- I'd like to go in the spring. - Ah! Brittany in the spring!

The evergreen shrubs.

Plus, there are few people.

- The hotel managers are nice? - Yes!

- I drive a hard bargain! - That makes a difference.

I'm sure it does.

Tell me how it goes.

Sure.

I love talking to that boy. He's so interesting.

- That took long. - I didn't have a watch.

- What? - I didn't see what time it was.

What do you think of all this?

- It's okay, isn't it? - He looks like an idiot.

- I didn't mean him. - Then what? The ducks?

They aren't ducks. They're swans. Swans are white.

- Some are black. - Perhaps.

- Some ducks are white. - Even so, they're never pretty.

But swans are pretty even when they're black.

Fine, they're classy. So what?

I'm talking about her.

"A quiet moment. Gliding on the river.

"Surrounded by the murmur coming from the fields and the forest.

- "An angelus rang." - She must have had a ball!

I'll be in there 5 minutes. I never need more.

Don't focus on the business aspects,

it's the psychological dimension that's interesting.

The volcano was once a symbol of strength

but it's now become...

You're not bringing your junk in here again!

Don't you dare try to pawn off your shitty poison on me!

You're the sort of filth to make me lose my license. Get out!

Need help packing it up?

Goodbye, boss.

You excite me so much!

I knew you'd be amazing.

And I wasn't disappointed.

You botched it like a pro!

You talked nonsense non-stop.

You nearly set fire to the bed with your cigarette.

You wear an undershirt.

You keep your socks on.

- Antoine! - Yes, Mom!

What is it?

When you're done screwing around, come move your car!

Right away, Mom!

You've even got your mom! You're everything I've wanted!

You beat them all, even Foisnard!

- You said he never screwed. - Never.

Then how could I possibly beat him?

A guy who never screws is unbeatable.

It's like this: you get tired of him.

A loser who lives on his reputation

is like a champ whose title is never challenged.

With you, it's the unknown.

One day, you could succeed in something.

All bets are off every time.

It's true, I take risks.

That one's always late.

She'll get it this time.

- Good evening. - Good evening, sir.

I can't believe she screws him!

Look at him! The other one was no great shakes, and now this!

If she'd only wanted to!

I would've pulled out all the stops: duplex,

small car for her, the works.

She could've been Mrs. Carducci by now.

Maybe she's not such a masochist.

Excuse me.

- Have you been here long? - We don't notice the time.

Right, Gégé?

All my thoughts were on you and your little body.

It's all yours.

You'll do what you want with it.

- Shut up! - You'll forget that ugly bitch.

O angel of softness!

Soothe my suffering

with the graceful charm of your kindness.

- When is your girlfriend on? - As soon as she gets undressed.

Are you sure she didn't follow you last time?

If she ever walked in here, it wouldn't look good.

They wouldn't let her in.

She doesn't wash herself or comb her hair anymore.

A savage.

Don't you think she'd be better off in an old folks' home?

You'd be doing her a favor.

We'd need to find an establishment willing to take her.

What about in Marmottan?

Any more brilliant ideas?

Jane, Joe & Partner. You remember?

They moved you in "Oriental Extravaganza."

Then we had "Madam Bovary's Caresses."

They went abroad, but they're back.

Flowers of evil, dark butterflies

emerging from the crucible of night.

They take you to a place filled with beauty and sensual delight.

Jane, Joe & Partner

in "Tribute to Charles Beaudelaire."

Your hair, Malvina, is as fragrant as the isles.

A subtle aroma

of sea salt.

A misty memory where the breeze of the city

mingles with the ardor of clandestine love.

Your girlfriend's so vulgar!

I find that disgusting.

Don't you agree, Gégé?

Don't you find it disgusting?

Your chest,

Malvina, is a splendid orchard

of sun-kissed fruits.

Fruits of love that the generous Florida soil fed with its nectar

and tinted cherry-red.

Now it's getting perverted.

Sometimes you take a childlike stance.

You feign astonishment or innocence.

You shriek with laughter when my hand teases the well

where all ardor is extinguished.

A witness to the sweet work in which you excel,

your navel retains its artlessness...

...not unlike the whores of Brussels,

flushed with the excitement of virginity.

Will this ever end?

I've had enough.

Beneath your light clothing, your limp throat ripples,

giving its admirer unwholesome thoughts.

It brushes against Hercules' rod,

and I feel the globe of your breast hardening.

Wouldn't it be better to go home and listen to some records...

of clean music?

It wouldn't be polite toward Antoine.

Your legs,

Malvina, where blood rushes silently,

slowly rise toward a dark and low sky.

A bittersweet paradise that calls to

the erected Negrito

ready to fight.

As for your bouncing baits, heavy as your buttocks,

bring them together into a monstrous pair.

I take delight,

with these moist caresses,

in hunting for a complex pleasure,

a painful coitus.

What's the fuss all about?

You were reserved when courting me.

- What attracted you? - Something else.

I hope you don't take us to the same places.

I wouldn't want to be a laughing-stock.

But you should know, she's ugly.

She's got horrible skin, right Gégé?

The text was garbage,

and I must agree

that your friend is more of a whore than anything.

Miss, I'm a loyal admirer.

Don't I know you?

What is she talking about?

Ms. Mulot, a friend.

French poetry takes on a whole different meaning.

The text is admirable, but the way it's experienced...

The body language...

- Where did they meet? - How would I know?

In what depths of yourself do you find such inspiration?

That age-old stifled cry...

It comes from within with Charlot.

Did you hear?

We're not deaf!

"It comes from within with Charlot!"

Admirable child!

How about the bill?

You are living testimony of appearances' fragility.

Your nudity is illusory and poetry suits you like a glove.

May I ask a question?

Will you give back Antoine his beanpole?

Unless you're about to mount her right here!

Excuse her, this is a first!

Since you like whores, I'll make myself look like one.

Don't change anything then.

Leave me the hell alone!

What can I say?

- What was I saying? - Anything.

What an asshole!

"Your nudity is illusory..."

Does poetry suit me?

I come to Paris every Friday.

My wife doesn't know I've a place.

Please, help yourself.

Don't let me stop you, Marcel!

- You look beautiful! - Look at what you created.

Isn't it her you should commit?

How about a dance?

My patience is wearing thin. You fire that drag queen now.

I'll count to three.

Why, you can't count to five?

Will you shut her up?

From now on, you're no longer employed by Hotel PLM.

You'll get the compensation due under Article 163.

And tomorrow... No, today...

That's right.

...you'll retrieve your reports and you'll return

your uniform, badges and canteen chits.

Is that so?

And now, I'll jump in front of the train!

The next one's at 5 a.m.

You people have no manners...!

Wow... I'd do her too, anytime!

- Your friend's not here? - He skipped his turn this time.

Good day, sir.

Good day, sir.

Good day, sir.

My fairy godmother, my benefactress!

Don't get so emotional, my dear Antoine!

You got an adrenaline boost from the slippers I got you,

and your temperature rose to 39.5 for your split pea soup.

I've never been taken care of like this.

With you, it feels like home.

My mom would be thrilled to know

I'm with a gentle and reputable woman like you.

When I think about my first convalescence,

between a prostitute and an alcoholic.

- We forgot the bread! - No!

It's here, you can feed your birds.

Darlings!

Darlings!

They're here, my fairy godmother!

Darlings!

Easy, easy!

- You, here? - We need to talk.

Again?

That's my bike!

My bike, my coat...

- How about taking my room? - How's Jane?

She's happy. Extremely happy.

She's discovered love.

She'd never been with a man, a real man.

Every time we make love...

Every time we make love,

pretty much 24/7,

she demands I tell her about

my life, my battles, my successes, my conquests!

Only yesterday, as I had just satisfied her,

and as she was lying on the ravaged bed, lifeless,

I told her how I had satisfied eight women

in a brothel in Mostaganem.

She looked me straight in the eye,

and said...

I was everything she wanted.

Look at that.

Yes!

Tell me, my dear Antoine.

Is Cécile okay? She must feel so alone now.

What would you do? Go back or disappear for good?

I trust your judgment.

I'd disappear for good.

- Really. - Just like that?

Just like that.

You and Jane need space,

and to evade.

Yes.

You're adventurers of the prairies.

The big cats, that's right!

I see you on the road, going from village to village...

And from port to port...

Our skin burnt by the sun...

Not feeling thirst or hunger...

Making love like beasts driven wild by the savannah's fires.

I'll come for my luggage tomorrow.

Why wait?

Tonight, then?

Thank you, Antoine.

I needed a helping hand.

You found it!

When one causes you harm...

I feel it too, and it's unbearable.

I tried explaining to him

that he ought to be here with you,

but try reasoning with a beast.

I'm not usually indiscreet,

but do you still love him?

Well... I guess I still care.

Then keep him close!

Yes!

Yes!

Nothing else should matter.

Not my loyalty,

nor my fragile health.

We'll tear Gérard away from that succubus.

Sure, but...

How?

The classic way: jealousy.

Let's say one night,

tonight, for example.

Yes?

It's dusk.

Honeysuckle perfumes the air.

In the background...

maybe Mozart?

Absolutely.

By your side, a very charming man.

You're feeling languid.

You've had a little to drink.

The shark attacks! Your senses spring to life.

There's a wild embrace. Gérard arrives!

He wants to reconquer the prey he's lost.

He beats up the intruder.

You open your arms.

He jumps into them...

You kiss, the end.

Oh, yes!

Yes!

Yes, but...

Who will I have that wild embrace with?

Well...

If it wasn't for such a valuable friendship...

Real adventurers of the prairies

don't need pajamas, dressing gowns, and hair loss shampoos!

- Come on, wake up! - What?

He's here!

The big cat's here!

It's time for the honeysuckle,

for the wild embrace!

My goodness, what a story.

- Where are we going? - Upstairs!

Let's follow our destiny.

- Cécile? - Yes?

Are you sure our friendship won't suffer from it?

- Hurry, hurry! - Cécile?

- What's wrong? - Cécile...

Whatever happens, let's not fall in our own trap.

What a boor!

May I?

Be my guest.

Are you sure he saw us?

Would you mind if I moved a bit?

I guess we can't just sit here.

He set off.

Too late, you set me off too!

Good day, sir.

- Good day, sir. - Good day.

I'd never seen that look on your face before, sir.

You're terrible.

Does Madam need anything from the city for tonight?

Didn't Mr. Robineau give you ideas?

Aside from the split pea soup, the gentleman's ideas...

Speaking of which, his mother, Madam Robineau,

will be visiting this week.

She's an elderly person, so I'll need macaroons, soft toffee,

- barley water and grenadine. - Very well.

- Mom? - Yes?

Tomorrow we'll go shopping for

a straw hat, sandals and a summery dress.

You've been invited for tea.

Only...

I'd like you to avoid seeing Vaillance.

You can't keep me from seeing Mrs. Bérange!

I'm not, Mom.

But she lives in the country, and I'm watching out for you.

Remember last time?

At my engagement lunch?

The orchestra was playing "White Lilac",

Louise was cutting the cake,

when you jumped on the table and pulled up your skirt,

and Dad dove in a pile of shit.

We'd just seen a colony of rats!

What about "Bien l'bonjour, Madame Bertrand"?

It's no song for ladies.

Not to mention Dad was escorted back by the cops again.

The residents still remember that day.

Laugh it out.

Mom has her own ways.

Her only occupations are bridge,

and her membership at the concert hall.

It's the way she was raised.

I should have visited her.

It's not about protocol.

I hope to get her by the tummy.

I got her the best macaroons in Paris.

She didn't eat anything solid since her Communion.

Does she like grenadine?

It depends with what.

Bad news?

Not bad, not good, it's Gérard.

You write to each other?

Is he trying to get back with you?

He wants me to send sweaters, wool socks and a balaclava...

at Sarreguemines' cultural center!

Your chest, Malvina, is a splendid orchard

of sun-kissed fruits.

Fruits of love that the generous Florida soil fed with its nectar

and tinted cherry-red.

Your hair, Malvina, is as fragrant as the isles.

A subtle aroma...

We want our money back!

...A misty memory where the breeze of the city

mingles with the ardor of clandestine love.

He looked like such a fool I almost took pity on him.

What are you doing here? I thought you were in Sarreguemines.

Sarreguemines, Longville, Neuville,

I've seen and done it all.

I was even a transvestite.

I was wrong about my destiny, my friend.

I'm not a wild beast, but more of a house pet.

A Chihuahua.

You seem to be doing well.

Do you still enjoy being at my place?

I get by.

Given your vagabond instincts,

someone has to care for your wife and your birds.

Do you need a gardener?

Don't you find it ironic...

Maybe I can do something for you.

- Even if you don't deserve it. - Vulcani?

The Vermouth of Champions? They told me it was poison!

It's an excellent drink.

Pick up the publicity materials and order forms

at the head office.

My mother will receive you. It's an old family business.

Good luck.

- Vulcani is a good drink. - Very good, boss.

I'll send you two cases for Christmas.

Wholesale price.

Good day, sir.

No, don't get up.

- No exhibitionists? - No, nothing to report.

- No pickpockets? - Nothing at all.

You finally caught on.

Scandalous!

Oh, boss!

Oh, boss!

Boss, we saw you on TV, very realistic!

Bravo!

Jane with you.

Cécile with Gérard,

and Marie-Josée with me.

Meaning?

We're with the wrong women, we must go back to zero.

Know how much I care?

You're the only one who can save us, Foisnard.

You've got to go see her.

And explain to her that my heart's elsewhere.

That the best things must end.

- I can picture her blue eyes. - Green. Emerald green.

I'm talking about Cécile.

I don't want her to suffer. Or do anything stupid.

You'll find the right words, right?

Don't let your scruples stop you.

Want me to tell her you're leaving?

No, not like that. Something like...

Remember the good old days when you cried?

That's it.

Anything else?

Can you get me my suitcases?

- Hello, Miss Mulot? - Yes.

Ginette. Hurry. The boss is asking for you immediately.

That'd surprise me, because I'm with the boss.

You're with the former one.

The former?

The former...

Come in.

It's you.

My, my, I've never seen you look that way.

You're naughty.

Look at me carefully, Miss Mulot. You won't for long.

Are you leaving?

Not me, you.

Having had the chance to see your mischief through another,

I ask you to leave your clothes on and never lie on my desk.

From now on, you're no longer employed by Hotel PLM.

You'll receive the compensation due under Article 163

of the Grenelle Accord.

Your certificate and reports will be... No...

are ready.

All you have to do is see the steward.

To return your uniform, your badges and canteen chits.

Farewell, Miss Mulot.

- Did you talk to her? - Yes.

- She wasn't too hurt? - No.

- So, it went quite well? - Quite.

"This morning, at the crossroads,

"a pigeon settled in.

"As I was confiding in him my heart's secrets,

"the pigeon flew towards you.

"But I know that tomorrow the bird will come back.

"And depending on your answer,

"bring back a smile to my face.

"O angel of softness!

"Soothe my suffering

"with the graceful charm of your kindness.

I thought Foisnard never made love to you.

So what? Once isn't a habit.

I've gathered all of the evening's teardrops for you.

Say yes.

You can put away your pretty dress, Mom.

We're not going to the country anymore.

Why did I dilute my drink?

This gesture, you know what it meant to the Romans?

Give that back.

No, it meant misfortune to the defeated.

It's true.

As you see, we had...

A castle in Nemours.

An 800-room hotel.

swans on the lake,

a limousine.

A concert piano.

You can see there was a fortune there.

Dear Cécile...

Dear Cécile...

How about some split-pea soup?

We could invite Mrs. Bérange.

She'd surely like your sorrows.

- Does she know them? - Yours. Not the clerk's.

Right, there's the clerk.

I can clearly see the beginning of the clerk's sorrows.

We need a tragedy to spur sales.

The Leg-Breaker? We don't sell it anymore, we'll give it away.

About time.

When clients see the label, they're horrified.

We need to reinvent ourselves.

With every purchase of a chime,

Mr. Robineau offers a case of Vulcani,

the Vermouth of Champions.

The greatest suffering is silent.

It may be hard to tally, but now it's already a thirsty sorrow.

Caught in the act.

Your wife in bed with a handsome stud.

An irresistible hunk.

When you see him you know you haven't a chance.

No, I find that's in bad taste.

I'm trying to teach you a profession.

I still see you crossing the park...

with your suitcases

in the snow...

Why in the snow?

A sorrow without snow is like a joy without sunshine.

But then...

if it has to happen in winter, I see myself with a summer jacket.

Not bad...

A light summer jacket tied with a safety-pin.

Like at my funeral.

He followed her in his little black coat.

Dusted white with snowflakes.

I can follow your funeral.

In my light jacket.

Neither in a coat or a jacket.

I don't want us to follow mother's funeral.

We shouldn't play with prophecies that can annoy God.

Starting today, we'll follow your wife's funeral.

Dear Cécile...

Subtitling: EVA France