All language subtitles for Happy.Easter.[Joyeuses.Pâques].1984.FRENCH.720p.BluRay.x264.AAC-YTS.MX.en

- Got a bite yet?
- No. What about you?

Powerful, eh?

- Amusing, no?
- Yes..

And now...?

Stéphane!

His new passion.

- His only one?
- Apart from me.

Stéphane knows if he cheats
on me it's over.

My darling, tonight,
I have the Delbec group to dinner.

I'll be busy till midnight.
No later, I hope.

I kiss you passionately.

Mrs Fleury,
send 27 roses to my wife.

Red roses.

And put on the card...
Wait.

What could you put?
"An evening without you..."

"Is an evening wasted."
As usual.

Goof grief! 8 o'clock already!

Platform number 3,

departure of the 813 for Cannes,
Marseille, Lyon, Paris.

Sir!

Move away from the train
and close the doors.

Departure imminent.

For a little fling,
I'd have said no.

- But for a long trip, then...
- Then what?

Wait.

Goodness gracious...

- An emergency, darling?
- Yes!

- Evening, sir. I was worried.
- Yes. Any later...

Hello. Not too tired?

The dinner dragged on and on.

Hello, darling.

I'm in pieces.

I'll just go and do
a spot of fishing.

I saw one that big.

I don't know where you get your puff!

Yes!

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight.

Stéphane!

Stéphane? Where are you?

Goodness gracious me!

Are you cold?

I'm shivering.

Must be coming down
with something.

Excuse me.

I've a tricky letter to dictate.

Work!

Such a shame.

It's...

in
HAPPY EASTER

You will be good?

- Oh, Sophie!
- Or no more Sophie.

With the work I've got,

the Rousseau project to finish...

My poor dear...

- It'll take all night.
- I should stay.

Don't spoil your weekend for that!
Your mother's waiting. Go.

Hurry if you want a seat
near the window.

Oh, God!
Did I pack the bell?

You have it, darling.
Please don't panic.

Flight Air France 416
to Paris.

Last call.

Kiss your wife and kids.

- It's so silly...
- Yes. Don't touch me.

You don't love me now?

If you leave now, it's over.

Your keys, dickhead!

You're heartless!

The next will pay for you!

- May I?
- Do go ahead.

If you're in a hurry,
take my turn.

Maguy? Julie.
Can I stay over?

I'll explain later.
I don't want to bother you.

At 7 o'clock?

OK, then.
Carry on.

Guy? It's me.

Yes, I see.

OK, OK.

Happy Easter, then.
Moron!

Just a second.

- You've reached 07.70.80...
- What's she doing?

Is the series over?

You won't get a taxi.
I can offer you a cruise.

Monaco, via the Grande Corniche,
and all the other corniches,

Italy, the Orient, adventure.

Just Nice.

Farewell, adventure.
Farewell, cruise.

Let's go to Nice.

Captain Margelle is glad
to welcome you on board.

We'll be crossing
the Promenade des Anglais

in 1 minute 17 seconds.

Our cruising speed will be
210 kilometres per hour.

I get the picture.

- Didn't you see the sign?
- I'm not in the mood.

I'd appreciate it
if you could slow down.

Just stay the word.
Airbrakes primed.

It's funny, life.
I'm not from a rich home.

I'd get nothing
at this time of year as a kid.

You're my first Easter present.
It's a miracle.

- You know what'd be wonderful?
- What?

- Driving in silence.
- Silence... The desert...

Fort Saganne!

Drop me over there.

- I haven't eaten. Dinner?
- I'm not hungry.

Just a snack!

- We'll find somewhere discreet.
- Discreet?

Quiet! I mean quiet.

Let's go there.

I went the other day.
The shrimp made me ill.

A ham salad can't be dangerous.

Stop at the junction.

- What's that?
- An Indian.

- What about a bistro?
- No.

Ah, India...

The mysteries of India. Candide...

- Evening.
- Have you seen Yvan?

- No.
- Or Fanny?

No. Nobody tonight.
Is it for dinner?

This way.

We're rather busy tonight.

Margelle! How are you?

- Oh! How are you?
- OK.

- And your parents?
- In Saint-Tropez. You?

Fine.

- Does this suit?
- Tremendous.

- This is Sophia.
- Hello.

I must have seen you.
I travel a lot.

- Maybe. In a plane.
- A train.

- Have a good evening.
- We'll try.

A little jerk,
son of an old jerk.

- You like Indian cuisine?
- Love it.

But real Indian cuisine
has to be authentic.

How's your ramavarshi?

It can't stand mediocrity.
As far as cooking times go.

And how do you make your baramati?

With nashti or tupola?

He's not Indian.

- You speak Hindi?
- A few dialects.

Send the baramati.
Let's live dangerously.

A lamb curry and rice.

Yes.

And drink? Glug-glug?

- Champagne!
- And a Coke.

Hindu women
make marvellous baramati.

It's a kind of love potion to them.

When they fall for a man,

the first thing they do

is baramati.

I've eaten my best ones over there.

Bravo.

You remind me of Hindu women.

The charm, the grace,

the mystery, with this music.

And we're off.

It's wonderful.

- These long weekends are hard.
- Sorry?

Put your wife on a plane
and you're lost?

My poor girl!
My wife, if you knew...

You're free. More like friends.

- More like.
- I know.

I was seeing off a man
going to his "friend",

who had 2 kids by him.
In a friendly way.

- A drop of champagne?
- I don't like it.

Please. Allow me.

Oh, sorry.
Please forgive me.

It doesn't matter.

He does look stupid.
Shall we go?

Yes. You call that a baramati?
That, a baramati?

If you served that in prison,
you'd have a mutiny!

Let's go. Do you do baramati
like that at home?

We do sardines.
I'm from Coimbra. Portugal.

Here's your tip.
Let's go.

I'm sorry.
That's the second time.

I can count.

I know a little Russian restaurant
that does caviar...

- No. I'm not hungry.
- Disco? Music? A drink?

- All part of the price.
- I'm tired.

- Something wrong?
- Don't you worry.

Good evening.

- Can I take you home?
- I have no home.

What?

I lived in the "friend's" studio...

but I gave him his keys back.
- Oh, that's silly.

Don't worry.
We'll find you a hotel.

It's full everywhere.

Nobody can put you up?

All my girlfriends are away.

Let's go, then.

But you shouldn't split up at Easter
when you're homeless.

Drop me at the station.
I'll sleep in the waiting room.

There.

Quiet, restful, sea view...

atmosphere, minibar.

In such a case,
you must turn the page...

and move on.

- They're hard to find.
- They are?

They don't grow on trees.

- Shall we go?
- Where?

- Your place.
- My place?

- Isn't it part of the surprise?
- Yes, but...

- Such enthusiasm!
- No. It's not that, but...

- You're alone?
- Sure.

- Well?
- I haven't the right to talk.

I've written my life off.

But they mustn't attack you.

- Who?
- Oh, forget it.

When you think of something,
wake me up.

- Julie, wake up. It's here.
- It's here?

I live at number 53.
We'll give it a try.

Why go so far?
There was space in front of 53.

It's too exposed.

Do what I say.
Take the case.

Get out.

You're starting to worry me.

- It's here
- What?

The service door.
It's less dangerous.

- It's like a thriller.
- Shh!

- Wait.
- I stay here?

Don't move. I'll be back.

Come on.

- No patrols detected?
- No, it's OK.

- OK?
- OK, OK.

- Relax.
- I'd like to see you relax!

- Put the light on, then.
- Don't move.

- Is it the first time?
- For what?

That you bring a girl home?

My poor dear...

I'll turn on the light,
but on your own head be it.

Try tranquillisers.

I thought I heard...

In general, men I know
don't listen at doors.

- Where is it?
- What?

The bedroom.

The bedroom!
Wait.

We could lie down.

Our fling shouldn't be
like the others.

Yes. So I see.

I don't want it to be mediocre.

At this rate,
it won't be anything at all.

I won't love you and possess you...

as I did the others.
No need.

If you've another way, fine,
but hurry. I'm falling asleep.

Wait! With you I dream
of moments... moments...

Not mother, moments.

- I got that.
- Shh!

You're smothering me!

They mustn't hear us.

We must love in silence...

even if you want to cry out.

My wife! It's my wife!

She was the Mafia!

It's my wife's lift.

The way she uses the lift.

Oh, it's a trap!

Button! Your blouse! To the top!

- It doesn't go that far.
- Use a paperclip.

- It's her.
- We're not in bed.

I knew it.

Not at home.
Never at home. Never!

- Puff up the fringe.
- Leave it to me.

Sit down there.
Don't say a thing.

We'll be up till 4.

We are entering...

an era of economic recession...

that, paradoxically, will see...

the advanced industrialised nations...

to adopt ultra-capitalist
foreign policies...

and domestic policies...

that are radically socialist.

Stéphane, stop boring her
with your economics speech.

What? Is it you?

The hardest thing for me...

is not to believe this is a cartoon.

- These are silly situations.
- Yes.

Because you inevitably imagine things.

Inevitably.

- Naturally...
- Naturally.

An awkward position.

- Would you like me to take part?
- No.

I'd rather see

how my husband manages alone.

As you wish.

He's not in an easy situation.

No.

You see a lady off at 7.

She returns at 1am

to find her husband
with a charming young woman...

- Charming?
- Oh, yes.

My hair's a mess.

It suits you.

Look, I think I'll leave you...

Admit that this lady
has a right to wonder.

You didn't leave?

That's a typical example
of a bad reaction.

I hereby confirm,

believe it or not,
that I did not leave.

But you boarded.

Transport strikes
can strike at any moment.

A controller's mood
can ruin a marriage.

But really, Sophie...
How can you...

How... How can you believe...

How can you think...

Eh, Sophie?
How can you think...

No. People are extraordinary.

I know that.

- Look...
- Please.

It's not at all what you think.

You know what I think?

People are extraordinary.

You find a man and a woman talking

and build a novel around it.

No, really... That's...

Really, it's...
No, really, it's...

Sickening.

- Nothing happened.
- I'm too early?

No. Look at her.
She's a kid.

I'm too old for cradle-snatching.

Then who is it?
You haven't said.

It's Julie, Sophie.

Oh!

- Yes. It's Julie.
- Right. And?

She's my daughter.

I didn't catch that.

Yes!
She's my daughter. Damn it.

It had to come out sooner or later.

Yes, she's my daughter.

My little girl. That's right.

She's here.
The little girl I had.

Aren't you ashamed,

trying to make me believe
such lies?

- Where are you going?
- My lawyer will contact you.

- Sophie!
- You have your daughter.

You can do lots of things
with your big girl.

Listen to that.

You can't say that
in front of the child.

There's something I don't understand.

How did you hide this from me

for ten years of marriage?

Can you see me turning up

saying I had a child?
- Why not?

Maybe I'm not needed now.

No. I'll take her home,
then we can have a talk.

No need. I'll be gone.

How can you be jealous
of this kid?

Look. She's barely formed.

I saw her three times a year

on the sly.

It must be sad,
not seeing your daddy.

Yes. Because whatever you say...

a daddy will always be a daddy.

So you meet at night when I'm away?

Oh, never!
She's never been here.

Have you ever been here?

- Never.
- I didn't make her say that.

Where would you meet?

I'll tell you.

I'm not scared of telling you.

We'd meet in cafés.

And today you preferred
the warmth of the home?

That's different.

She calls.
I receive a call.

That's logical.

I mean: she calls me unexpectedly.

Things are always happening
to her.

So she says:

"Dad, I must see you."

I say: "Do you know
what time it is, my girl?

"I'm going to bed.
It's 11 o'clock."

- I was going to bed.
- Yes.

So she breaks down crying,
falls to her knees...

Well, I imagine
she falls to her knees.

And she says: "Dad, I must see you.

"It's extremely important."

I say to her:
"Look, daughter of mine... OK.

"If you like,
I'll meet you at Place Masséna."

I didn't want her to come here.

No. You didn't want that.

I had a feeling
it wouldn't go well.

Call it a hunch.

She says: "Stay there, I'm coming."
And hangs up.

What would you do?

What did she have to say?

Oh, a minor fuss...
It's always the same.

- You know what kids are.
- No.

A fuss.
Go on, you tell her.

Say why you came.

She doesn't believe me.

That's simpler.

Yes. At this stage.

- Really?
- Tell me.

Why are you being so secretive?

I'm expecting a child.

There. That's what she came
to tell me.

I swear. Hearing that
in the middle of the night...

You got her pregnant.

Oh, really, Sophie...
How dare you?

I'm trying to catch up.

- Tell her who the father is.
- It's embarrassing.

- Tell her.
- She doesn't know him.

If you don't, she'll think
God knows what.

- A boy.
- Very good.

- A pilot.
- Fighter.

- Fighter pilot?
- Well, in wartime.

Right now he's stagnating,
waiting for the next one.

He doesn't want it?

Huh! He's flown away.

And you don't want to keep it.

Oh, no, come on!
With her studies...

- You're studying?
- Yes. A little.

- In Nice?
- No. Limoges.

That's why she wants money.

I was going to give her something.

- What does your mother say?
- About?

- Your state.
- Oh! Er... she doesn't know.

- You haven't told her?
- You haven't?

- No. Should I have done?
- Look, I don't know.

I must admit, I don't know any more.

She'd be scared of hurting her.

- She's a sensitive woman.
- It'd kill her.

Really sensitive.

I recall when he left,

she hung between life and death
for a month.

That's ancient history.

She's say:
"You think daddy will come back?"

Oh no. Hey, look...

You know the divorce
wasn't contested.

And you know very well why.

I was so small when you left...

Hey! Small or not,

that's enough of that.

What age was she at the time?

- How old?
- Yes, how old?

At least!
And I'm not sure of that.

She was a kid

whose age would be between...

4 and 9.

I'm sorry, but at that age,
you can understand.

It's not very nice,
abandoning mother and child.

It was obvious
it wasn't working out.

Why?

Why? Why?

Yes, why?

Why?

Why?

Well, ask her.

- She knows.
- It's very difficult.

No, tell her. Tell her.

The truth is,
as a family, we're so...

- So austere.
- A family of sailors.

In Limoges?

- What about the canals?
- Of course. Yes.

Grandfather didn't want her
to marry a non-sailor.

This maritime past
surging up again...

And your mother married a sailor?

Of course!
Who else would she marry?

With all that around her?

Surrounded by sailors?

One day, she was fed up.
She dived in

and brought one back.

Don't get me wrong.

Not any old sailor.
Not a common deck scrubber.

No. An officer. A captain.

Yes. Lieutenant commander.

He was commanding
when she met him.

I can see him now.

A very smart chap.
A fine sailor's face.

A face full of sea spray.

He had spray everywhere.

Spray all over his tunic.

Never went out without it.

A good chap.

I'm very grateful to him,

because he contributed

to helping her mother forget me.

It can't have been easy
for the poor woman.

And at the time
I was very tall and handsome.

It's amazing.
I suddenly shrank.

The pressure made me lose
6 inches at once.

Life's funny, eh?

One day you're 7 feet,
the next 5'9".

And the next 4'7".

That's what they mean by
life's ups and downs.

There.

You see, Sophie.
You know my whole life.

I feel naked before you.

Er... I'll be going now.

That's right, my girl.

Goodbye, dear.

Go back to the farm
and look after the animals.

- You're at a hotel?
- Pardon?

You're staying at a hotel?

- She went to her aunt's.
- Which aunt?

My aunt Marthe.

Poor Marthe must be worried sick!

- Call her.
- She has no phone.

No. Not yet.

- Let's go, then.
- Where?

- Where does your aunt live?
- Maubeuge. Monaco!

It's 3 in the morning.
It's quite a way.

She can sleep in the guest room.

Oh! You can't mean that?

What about Marthe? No.
I'll take her home.

She's dropping from tiredness.

I'll explain to aunt Marthe.
Come on.

- Say something.
- Monaco, at this hour...

- She's mad!
- It's too far.

- This is crazy!
- I go to bed early.

- Nightie...?
- No need. I sleep naked.

I've been wanting
to strip off for hours.

Right. The bathroom is here,

the towels are in the cupboard.

When I think of how worried
Marthe must be...

My God!

Let her say her nightly prayers.

Mecca's that way.

There.

And we can chat in the morning.

I'm very keen to get to know you.

Oh, she's gorgeous!

She really is a credit to you.

She already has round shoulders.

She's built like you.
You have your daddy's build.

- Oh?
- Well, more... feminine.

Maybe. I can't say.

- She's flat.
- Oh, come on...

I mean...
You're flat for now.

Yes. But it's recent.

Goodnight, my child.

Goodnight.
Goodnight, daddy

What are you doing, Stéphane,
dreaming?

Come on.

What an idea, having her stay over!

She was dead tired.
She could hardly speak.

You'd rather she didn't.

What?
What does that mean?

Why do you have to pry

into the kid's existence?

She's part of your life, though!

You know my life.

There are bits missing.

You're guarded about your past.

I'm dead tired.

It's common tonight.
Must be the moon...

It's possible. Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Stéphane.

- Stéphane!
- You woke me up!

Your eyes were open.

When I'm really tired,
I sleep with my eyes open.

And a lighted cigarette
in your mouth.

Stéphane. Stéphane!

What studies is she doing?

I don't know.
Dressmaking, calculus...

Are you trying to stop me
from sleeping?

I'll be in a daze
with Rousseau tomorrow.

You know who he is?
Decision maker at the ministry.

You dramatise everything.

If I don't get this project,

I'll be down 2 billion.

- He'll give it to you.
- Don't talk rubbish.

Baudrier is in the hunt too.

I know Baudrier.

He's had every contract
under every government.

Changes allegiance like shirts.

You're getting upset.
Go to sleep.

Night.

Goodnight.

- You're not asleep?
- She's wonderful.

The night's over.
You interrupted my sleep.

I might as well work
on the project.

Go to sleep.

- Did you hurt yourself?
- No.

What time is your plane tomorrow?

I'm not going.
I can't leave you.

- What?
- In your state...

What state?

It'd be desertion.
We'll go to the Saint-Paul house.

Oh no! There are times...
There are times!

There are times!
Really!

There really are times!

It's time for big girls to wake up.

Let her sleep.

Don't undermine
my authority over her.

- What time is it?
- 7.15. We have to go.

Where?

The station. The train. Limoges.

Oh, Limoges! It's early.

Yes, Limoges is early.

Poor little wisp. May I?

I didn't dare offer.

A kiss for daddy?

- Hello, daddy.
- Be reasonable!

Mummy's waiting in Limoges.
She'll scold you.

- You want a coffee?
- I think it's needed.

No! No coffee!

Yes. You're not even dressed.

It'll take me 10 seconds.

You always take an hour.
Sit down, dear.

I always feel limp
until I've had my coffee.

- What was I doing?
- Getting ready.

The holding company!

What are you looking for?

- What are you after?
- My jacket!

- In the fridge, darling.
- That's smart.

- On the armchair, as usual.
- I doubt that.

- I'll go, otherwise...
- I feel guilty.

- Why?
- For taking your father.

It's not on the armchair.

- And the chair?
- You said the armchair!

Look.

And look on the other chair
while you're at it.

On the back,
the bit you lean against.

Oh, be ironic! Julie!

Don't sleep! The train won't wait!

- I have scruples.
- Don't have.

- About your mother.
- You know, mummy...

- Where are they?
- Here he is again. What, dear?

- My shoes.
- Wardrobe.

My brown ones with buckles?

The buckles are in the wardrobe too.

The other day I only had the buckles
and it was hard to walk.

Sorry for prying.

How did your mother take
his remarrying?

She was very brave.

- You know, a sailor's daughter...
- Oh yes.

And you?

I said: "Daddy, if you think
you'll be happy..."

- At six!
- I was very mature.

Did you see him after that?

Yes. He picked me up
every day from school.

- In Limoges?
- Yes, Limoges.

- I obviously have to act.
- Let her eat.

She can eat breakfast on the train.

- What time does it go?
- 37.

37 what?

8 or 9.
I can't remember hours.

I remember minutes
but not hours.

How much is Toulouse-Limoges?

Gameshows are on in the evening.

- You came to Toulouse every night?
- Pardon?

Julie says
you picked her up from school.

- So what?
- In Limoges?

What's wrong with meeting
your daughter in Limoges?

You were working in Toulouse.

Yes. And I'm proud of the fact.

It's quite a way
to fetch her from school.

That's right.
She went on Sundays.

She went to school on Sundays too?

Yes. She was...

She was often in detention.

Yes?

- Can I use the bathroom?
- Of course, dear.

Oh no! Honestly!

It should have sent her
to boarding school!

And then into the army.

You're mad, talking like that.

No! It's annoying,

her saying I'd pick her up
in Limoges.

A compulsive liar.

She wanted to see you more often.

Don't you think I wanted
to see her every day?

Every hour?
Every minute?

Do you know what it's like
for a father

to only spoil his child
once a week,

an ice-cream hurriedly bought,

that'd melt more often than not.

I wasn't rich enough

to buy her ice cream
with hard scoops.

They were second-hand ices
with partly melted scoops.

I can see her now,

her hands covered in vanilla,

saying: "Daddy! Daddy!

"I'm losing my vanilla."

You know how hot
the sun can be in Limoges.

Say, Julie,

remember that baker's we'd go to?

That bakery was my whole childhood.

And the shop on the corner?

Of two streets.

Right. Julie, I warn you.

If you're not ready in 5 minutes,
I warn you...

Julie, I warn you.

So now you're warned!

- She should keep it.
- What?

The baby. She should keep it.

Don't start that again.

It's becoming an obsession.

It's not possible.

- What if I look after it?
- I won't have it.

I'll tell you something surprising.

I really want this child,
even though it's not mine.

That's all we needed.

Adopt one. It's not too late.

A little Asian,
a little black, a petit Suisse.

Nobody adopts a petit Suisse.
It's unfair.

Thank you.

Quickly.

- Hurry!
- A scene, now?

- For good reason.
- Who said I was his daughter?

You went too far.

What a wretch.
If I hadn't been fool enough

to make your pathetic story
sound true,

you'd have lawyers on your arse!

Oh, very distinguished.
"Lawyers on your arse"!

- You shouldn't have stayed.
- I was tired.

I need my sleep.

In bed by 11.
Like we should have done.

I can see the picture
when Sophie arrives.

A child of my age
sleeping with her dad

is pretty retarded.

- Are you ready?
- Just leaving.

- I'll come.
- What for?

I can't let you drive in your state.

Come quickly, dear.

Come on. Hurry.

- Couldn't you park nearer?
- Obviously not.

Come on! You'll miss your train!

Drive on.
Take off the handbrake.

Too slow!

Tell me about yourself.

Don't talk, look at the road.

Your daughter arriving
is a big event.

Not at all. Overtake them!

- Why are you going this way?
- It's a short cut.

Why this street?
Not at this time of day!

This is madness!

Bloody hell!

Don't hurry, old chap.

He's mad!
He'll do himself a mischief.

Poor thing.

That one.

It's weird, though.

A woman shows up
who knows your husband.

- Knew...
- Yes. You knew him.

No! That one's not for here.

- What was he like?
- Not too tall, blue eyes.

Yes. I know that.

He already had blue eyes.
They're the same.

That was quick.

Strange. When I met him,
he looked like a kid.

Whatever you do, don't talk to me.

- You stop at red lights?
- It's a novel idea.

Wait here in the car for me.

No! There's a space there.

Come on.

- We're lucky, eh?
- Yes, darling.

You're not sending me to Limoges!

- What about the ticket?
- Get it on the train.

Where's the 37 to Limoges?

Change at Toulouse.
But there's no 37.

The 19's gone.
The next is at 3.13.

No, no, no!

You're in a rush
to leave your child.

You don't know her mother!

- Call her.
- She has no phone.

- She hasn't?
- She has no phone.

- Call the neighbours.
- She has none.

- What?
- She has no money.

Here.

Sorry. There must be another.

Here.

There's one at 10.54,
with just one change.

In Saarbruck. Yes, well.

Enough.
Go to your meeting with Rousseau.

We'll do some shopping,
be back by 3.13.

No!

- Still here?
- Where else would I be?

You can leave us.
I won't eat her.

You really are extremely stupid.

Yes, darling.

Hello.

I'd like to see
the blouse in the window.

- You're scared?
- Me?

You all tremble in front of women.

I won't mess up.

I'm big enough to talk to her.

No, you don't know her.

She's Cyrano de Bergerac.
She can worm anything

out of anyone at any time.

I feel like a breath
of fresh air in her life.

And she is in mine.

You can't both spend your lives
causing draughts.

- Like it?
- Not bad.

- Take it.
- No.

Yes. It's yours.

Go on. I'd be really pleased.

Come, Julie.

- Are you taking this item?
- No.

I'm embarrassed.

I'm trying to make up for
his lack of generosity.

- Don't forget your meeting.
- How could I?

Mr Margelle is usually very punctual.

Capitalists are never
in step with history.

That's their downfall.

- He must have a hitch.
- He's about to have more.

I'm only here because the minister

wants to study all proposals.

We're not sectarian.

But his competitor Baudrier

deserves our attention also.

The kind of superboss we like.
Sensitive to social issues.

When you know Mr Margelle,
you'll like him too.

He started with nothing.

I don't know where from,
but he's late.

10.30! You're really late.

Keep the car.
We'll meet up later.

- Come on. We'll get a mocha.
- OK.

- Getting out?
- So what?

- To buy a mocha?
- I don't trust your tastes.

What's wrong with my mochas?

The last smelt of baba.

Never seen a chick like it.

- He can't have given you many.
- Definitely not.

A science-fiction chick.
Close Chicken Encounters.

Oh, Julie!

Julie... That's so gorgeous.

Julie, you must keep it.

- What?
- The baby.

We talked it over.
You must.

Oh?

She can't. You can see
she has no hips!

I can, but she can't.

You'll have to drive me!

Come with me.

I'm in such a state.

Come with me. Leave the door.

- A feminine presence helps.
- Your secretary?

Mrs Fleury isn't a woman.
You are all woman.

- Yes. I know.
- I need your presence.

You see, it's the bosses
refusing all dialogue.

Never mind.

- Another coffee?
- No. I've had my dose for the day.

- What can I do?
- Nothing. I have that at home.

Forgive me. Traffics jams,
the lift broken down.

- My wife.
- Hello.

Show me your proposals,
I'm late.

We came to a good price synthesis

of quality and luxury.

No luxury!
This is meant for workers.

- No fuss.
- OK.

- What'll that be?
- The bases in marble.

This isn't Napoleon III.

Marble went out
with the Ancien Régime.

Use pipes.
Cheaper and more proletarian.

We already have a bid
with incredible prices.

Baudrier!

A struggling company
that deserves help.

So do I!

If I don't get this, I'll go bust.
I squeezed prices.

Your wrist isn't very strong.

- Excuse me.
- Go ahead, ma'am.

The shops shut at noon.

- I won't be a minute!
- For a bit more.

- We can squeeze harder.
- Join me in Saint-Paul.

- And the girl?
- I'll see to her.

- But, Sophie...
- What's all this?

My wife. She's had
a serious operation.

She's nervous. I can't leave her.

Depressive. Be right back.

She's been operated on...

So has everyone in my family!
From father to son.

But I worked.

He's a man who deserves help.

He's so enterprising,

so responsible.

The secretary
in love with the boss.

The Ancien Régime's to blame again!

Sophie!

What is it?
I didn't ask for a couchette!

Let me get out.
I have to go to Limoges.

Limoges. Number 15. Platform.

My daughter. My wife.
It's gone...

Let me get out here.
I don't want to!

- Oh, my head.
- He needs an x-ray.

No x-rays!
I've lots of cassettes at home!

- Fetch them!
- Be reasonable.

He may have concussion.

We've never had that
in our family.

Oh, Julie!
Stop them from going!

A tranquilliser.

Oh! My head!

My poor head... Julie...

3 o'clock...

I promised mum
we'd do dinner tonight.

Go tomorrow.

I already avoided her
at Christmas. No.

You know it's your father's birthday?

Of course.

Well, then?

We'll have a little party
with friends and neighbours.

- He couldn't hope for more!
- Well...

What a present for him!

You can't have Eastered
together often?

- No.
- Thank you, Marguerite.

- And mum?
- I'll phone and explain.

She has no phone.

You must have a number
to call in emergencies?

- Yes.
- Well, then, Julie!

Give me the number.

I'll call, or she'd worry.

The phone is there.
Marguerite, I'll help you.

You've reached 07.70.80.
Speak after...

Tell mum I can't come back tonight.

I'll explain later.

Hello. It's Julie.

If Jean-Louis should call,
I'm at...

88.24.32, in Saint-Paul.

There's no room here either?

- Well?
- No.

No room.
We're not expected.

You can't give birth 6 weeks early.

My wife's away at Ascension.
No problem.

It's all right being keen.

It's fine at work,
but not when giving birth...

Well?

Come, Geneviève,
You're not a kid.

- Why do you need kids?
- You can say that again!

Poof!

Maybe we can engage second gear now.

I hope there'll be room
at Saint-Roch.

An Easter weekend...

An extra day off,
everyone gives birth.

My family's waiting
to leave for the country.

Bloody hell!

It's a black baby too.
Happy Easter.

What's going on?

Is it an emergency?

Yes. A renal femur.
Saint-Paul-de-Vence, quick.

We'll be there in a jiffy.

Don't hang about, old chap.
Don't flag.

- A dart here, Marguerite.
- Yes, madam.

Dear me,
your daddy will be pleased

to find you here.

- Here?
- Yes.

I do home operations.

We have to moonlight.

- Happy birthday!
- You scared me.

- What happened to you?
- I'll explain.

Our friends are here.
Though I gave late notice.

- That's nice.
- Very nice.

Happy birthday, Stéphane.

- Happy birthday, old chap.
- Happy birthday.

What a joker!
Always playing tricks!

Yes. I thought it was amusing.

And now, the surprise!

This is Julie, my daughter-in-law,
Stéphane's daughter.

- You hid that well!
- Congratulations!

She came for her daddy's birthday.

She's my daughter,
my very big daughter.

- Isn't she gorgeous?
- Yes.

Come. You can't stay
dressed like that all night.

- Will you serve?
- Of course, granny.

She calls me granny
because I knew her this high.

Hey, you, wake up!

- You must explain.
- No, you must explain.

Oh, come on!

What? You're here?

Your secretary dragged me here.

She's very persuasive.
That's amusing.

It's nothing.
Just to amuse the guests.

Sorry about my wife.

With the operation,
she doesn't know what...

She seems fine to me.

Oh, because we have guests.
It distracts her.

Last chance.
I decide on Monday.

I invited him to dinner.

- Great.
- Go and change now.

I'll throw on a skirt
and be right with you.

No. Sorry. A shirt.
With this operation...

It's an endangered world.

Why isn't she on the train?

I thought you'd like her here
for your birthday.

And her mother?

She knows.
It's all arranged.

I tell Rousseau
I'm on the brink of failure

and she brings him here.

He'll dine with friends

that make the Rothschilds
look like trade unionists.

- You're never happy.
- What's that?

- What is it?
- It's for Julie.

When I was small, we'd hide eggs.

Robespierre's here,
she's hiding eggs!

You're mental!

Scotch? Port?

- That'll be fine.
- Sorry?

- Scotch port.
- Together?

I like fortified wine,
but port is too sweet.

Scotch gives it a dry kick.

Nice piece for someone
close to bankruptcy.

- Yes...
- The chest of drawers is superb.

Old things.
Old family things.

Louis XV, Louis XIII,

- Renaissance...
- I knew he was called René...

- Mr Rousseau?
- Tomato juice.

- With vodka?
- No. Neat.

- Really?
- Yes.

- He said neat!
- Sorry.

And granddad?

Carrot juice with
a finger of beet for a dry kick.

- That's a Renoir.
- Renoir?

Didn't you know?

I never pay attention to names.

If I like a picture.
the colour... the name...

And a Monet?

They wrote very badly.

A government of fools.

They're ruining the economy.

I keep saying that!

They're awful.

Our country's ruin...

Oh! An egg!

Mr Rousseau,
she found the chucky-egg!

- Isn't it nice?
- It's handsome.

"Handsome chuck-egg"!

Some pits can never be filled.

You're wrong to criticise
that old French tradition.

But you have a charming daughter.

Oh, yes.
It's time we ate.

You can chat later.
Let's sit down.

Dinner!

Julie, will you see to Mr Rousseau?

Yes, granny.

- Mr Rousseau sits here.
- Call me William.

It's all informal.

There's just leg of lamb...
and a tiny bit of caviar.

It may be a luxury,
but I admit that caviar...

Everything's a luxury nowadays,
dammit!

A Soviet Russian friend,

very Orthodox, brings it back.

From such conditions...

- Have more.
- No, thanks.

I feel like I'm eating our slogans.

No, thanks.

Russian caviar
has a Marxist aftertaste

that should please you.

- Have you read Marx?
- Yes.

She's always on about him.

"Oh, dad, Marx! Oh, dad, Marx!"

He had a gift for observation.

I read it serialised
in Jours de France.

- You like social authors?
- It's all she reads.

My insistence.

Oh, yes. Diderot, Montesquieu...

- La Fontaine...
- La Fontaine, social author?

- Yes.
- What in La Fontaine?

- The Crow and the Fox.
- You think so?

He put everything
in The Crow and the Fox.

- You can tell he suffered.
- In The Crow and the Fox?

On the branch, perhaps.

When you think about it,

that bird exposed to all weathers
with a Munster in his beak...

For it was a Munster.

A fiercely debated historical detail.

They thought it was a Camembert.

They excavated under the tree

and found Munster rind.

Alain Decaux mentions it in his book,
Les Munsters de Paris.

It's amazing,
when you dig deeper...

If La Fontaine was a militant,

then some of his fables
are more hardline.

- The Labourer and his Children.
- The Dog and the Wolf.

- The Cobbler.
- The Wolf and the Lamb.

- The Mussel and the Pumpkin.
- "The Mussel and the Pumpkin"?

- You're sure?
- So what? It's just not well known.

Indeed.

- What is it about?
- Yes.

There's this mussel,
withdrawn in her shell.

Good idea for a mussel.

She meets a pumpkin.

Unusual.

Who meets a pumpkin in a market.

And the pumpkin says:

"Aren't you ashamed, opening
for whoever comes along?"

Indeed.

It's better in verse.

And the mussel answers:

"I give of myself,
I am generous,

"whereas you...
can only be opened with a knife."

You learn things in Limoges.

It's not La Fontaine's best work.

Are there many more
unpublished ones?

There's also The Coward,
his Wife and the Other One .

- Expecting anyone?
- No.

Excuse me.

- Hello.
- Is my daughter here?

I want to see here!
She's here!

What's this, now?

Julie! Oh, my little Julie!

Mum.

It's mum.

Oh, Julie!

I was scared.
I looked everywhere for you.

You know you should spare me
all this emotion!

Julie!

You're a monster!

You promised to spend Easter
with me.

I'll explain later.

- Good evening, madam.
- Are you OK?

Mum, this is...

But I'm all alone
like a poor dog.

I left a number on your voicemail.

For your bloke, not me.

I got the address from enquiries,

and I came.

- Here. That'll pep you up.
- I already had a small Dubonnet.

Oh, forgive me!
I stormed in like a fury.

- Not at all, dearie.
- Dear me, not at all.

- But I'm not a fool.
- OK, OK.

Easy, in front of everyone!

Please, Lucienne.

You don't like your name,
but that's it.

- You came from Limoges?
- It's not far.

With Concorde, it's just next door.

Let's make space
for Julie's mummy.

- No. We'll go.
- I don't want to disturb.

You know it's Stéphane's birthday.

Oh, bravo!

She'd forgotten my birthday.

A little human warmth is comforting.

She doesn't understand.
A chip off the old block.

- Selfish, heartless.
- She loves to joke.

She'll drop me like him.

She's amusing.
Your mummy is charming.

I started a little business
with my savings.

He gambled it all away.

They're not interested.

We are.
Misfits are always interesting.

Yes, of course.

A layabout womanizer,
sponging off others.

That's what we're fighting against.

He'd blow my money on women

and fiddle the accounts
so I didn't see.

- Well!
- He was young.

Oh, madam.
If you only knew this guy...

Oh, we know.

Sly, lying...

Aren't you exaggerating?

I can see you don't know him.

I do a little.

And yet, I loved him!

I was crazy about him.

Forgive me.

When I'm with folk I trust,
I tell my life story.

It's very instructive.

I won't be able to talk.

Oh no...

I should have suspected him
the day we met.

He took me to a hotel.

And I paid the bill!

Don't you feel well, darling?

- Excuse me.
- Perhaps you're hungry.

- Yes. I'm starting to...
- A nice leg of lamb...

- Oh, Stéphane...
- I'll give him the once-over!

I'm a magnetic healer.

I have a gift.

Lucky I had that
to raise the kid with

when that bastard left me.
The bastard!

Magnetic healer,
Marlène Chataigneau.

Marlène?

I'll give him the once-over.

Oh no!

Don't be silly. It won't hurt.

Don't stiffen up, Stéphane.
Don't stiffen up!

You'll forgive me for not staying
at this family celebration

but I've a hard day tomorrow.

We have to talk!

Is there any point?

Pigging out on Louis XV and caviar

on the back of your poor workers

is in the tradition of your class.

That you're a useless womaniser

who reduced his ex-wife to alcoholism

confirms what I thought of you.

But that also,

you have the cheek to grovel
for the nation's monies,

I find that rotten!

It's an awful misunderstanding!

You're the type of man
that makes me sick.

With no sectarian overtones.

We distribute our subsidies
to worthier people.

- No! William!
- I already gave!

Madam, the leg should be served.

A little lamb before going,
Mr Rousseau.

No, really, thank you.

And you, stop wetting me!
It's expensive material!

- William, it's really...
- Goodnight.

Mr Rousseau!
Look, I'd have liked...

Miss, I feel great sympathy for you.

I'd like us to talk.

Come to my conference
tomorrow.

I'll try.

I want to point out one thing to you:

I love my father a lot.

- Thank you so much.
- It was quite simple.

- Impromptu, really.
- We'll be in touch.

- Happy birthday.
- Happy Easter.

- Great!
- Whose fault is that?

Oh, please!

A looker 20 years ago.

I'll throw her in the pool.
That'll refresh her.

Don't be silly!
She's in a coma.

So what do we do?
Give her to charity?

In the blue room.

It's an obsession.

Anyone who comes
has to sleep over.

- You seem better now.
- It comes and goes.

Look at your poor daddy
shouldering his family.

What do we do with the lamb?

Give it back. The party's over.

Oh, Sophie! My little Sophie.

I want you.

I've wanted you all night.

Your ex gave you ideas?

I made a youthful mistake

but I came looking for you.

Grace, sensitivity, sensuality!

- Not with your family here.
- I want you!

Julie! Er... Sophie.

Sophie... Sophie...

I'm Sophie,
and you're out.

- Shh! The girl...
- Out!

Shame. It was going to be
so wonderful.

- Get out anyway!
- It's unbearable!

You can't do anything here!
What a night!

What a night!

Pick up your mother and go.

- As soon as she can.
- Even if she can't.

You drive me crazy.

I want to spend
a romantic night with you.

30 seconds of love in a closet,
with your ears pricked.

No. A whole hour.

A great big hour to ourselves.

- Are you kidding?
- Well... 20 minutes.

- Places!
- You're mad!

Are you kidding? Get out!

- Shh! Be quiet!
- He's mad!

I'm not old enough to play
the understudy. You hear me?

You looked lovely tonight,
Marguerite.

Good. My husband's home tonight.

- That's why I'm hurrying.
- Is that right?

Evening, sir.
Happy Easter.

Happy Easter, yes.

There are days like this...

- Hello.
- Hello.

- You got up early.
- You too, Stéphane.

Hasn't she left?

- Who?
- The other two.

The other two 'hasn't' left.

- What are they up to?
- Don't panic.

I'm not.
Why would I panic?

- Are you scared?
- Of what?

Betraying yourself.

I'm in no state to hear you raving.

I slept badly.
I'll be feeling faint soon.

Leave your fantasies
in your subconscious,

because I'm getting fed up
of your nonsense.

My poor Stéphane...

How in love you are.

What?

She has that common touch
that you've always loved.

I forbid you to say Julie is common.

You shouldn't upset me.
I'm not talking about Julie.

- I mean Lucienne.
- Lucienne?

The one who you never stopped loving
and who still loves you too.

I love Lucienne?

I'll tell everyone.
They'll have a good chuckle.

It'll replace Monopoly this winter.

I love Lucienne? I love Lucienne!

Sorry, but that's incredible.

You've got it?
You were in love, you had me...

Try not to make her suspicious

so it doesn't look like
he got a tart pregnant.

Both sensitive and dignified,

with just a little pinch
of nostalgia, perhaps.

Goodbye.

Yes, but don't overdo it.

- Imagine that woman and me?
- There's proof.

Youngsters get anyone pregnant.

I was waiting for you.
I never loved her.

It was the flesh, Sophie.

- Please.
- Just the flesh.

You'll see how the clouds will clear

and Easter Day will be lovely.

Stéphane!

Stéphane! Oh, Stéphane, my boy.

My boy! Oh, my boy!

- My boy!
- Lord, glance down this way.

You see, I'm going.

Yes.

It's funny to see you.

Me too. There's no reason.

Oh, your hands.

The handsome hands
that caressed my body.

I haven't forgotten them.

Goodbye, Sophie.

Right. We've said everything, mummy.

- May I kiss him?
- I'm asking you.

- It is necessary?
- Goodbye, you.

- Come on, mummy.
- Say goodbye to daddy.

- Goodbye, daddy.
- Goodbye, daughter.

Catherine?

Her younger sister.
She's more like him.

You have another daughter?

- Maybe I shouldn't have.
- What are you saying?

I didn't know.

I don't know this kid.

Maybe she's not yours.

- Do the maths, love.
- That's hateful.

You're making me out
to be hateful.

Home wrecker.
A home with 2 children.

- What will you do?
- Leave you alone.

- Sophie!
- Don't touch me!

No, no, no. Sophie!

No, listen to me. Sophie!

Give me a wall
I can bang my head on,

and I'll commit suicide.

- Did I play along well?
- The sister was a bad move.

I thought that detail
added a ring of truth.

She doesn't suspect Julie.

You knew and you let me
get bogged down for two days?

Why?

When men reach fifty,

it's a dangerous time for the heart.

Cholesterol, the need for a fling.
It needs nipping in the bud.

You think it cured him?

After the 2 days he's had,

I doubt he'll do it again.

But my mother wasn't planned.

No! I do admit I was lucky.

Coming home with a pretty girl

and having to leave
with her mother...

- Well...
- You won't let him go?

Yes. I want to see how far
he has the nerve to go.

- She's not the woman for you.
- Who?

Your wife.
Last night, I tell you,

I didn't get a good impression.

Now I'll tell you:

no one cares about
your impressions.

Please don't go.

- I'm not going.
- What's this?

- It's yours.
- What?

I can't go on living with you.

I'd think of her and her 2 kids
all the time. The horror.

I'll wake up soon.
The alarm will ring.

You can have him back.
Sorry for the years I stole him.

- But, madam...
- I'll give you some jam.

Won't you miss him?

What do we do now?

Spill the beans or marry mummy?

Heroes are rather cowardly this year.

On the pull, James Bond.

- But at home, Mr Clean.
- That's enough.

Man the lifeboats,
women and children first!

- Bugger me!
- Here? On the couch? OK.

- Have you finished?
- You hurt me.

I'll go and find Rousseau.

Rousseau?

He invited me
to his conference.

- What a cheek!
- He has his charm.

That's what they love: tyrants.

Rousseau will guillotine you.

Rousseau's a grim bastard.

And he needs telling.

- You're a dishrag.
- Me?

James Bond of panic,
007 of bend-over.

- Bloody hell!
- So what?

- Bloody hell!
- Write me the next bit.

"James Bond of bend-over"?
We'll see about that.

Bloody hell's bells!

Nice exit.

Bloody hell's bells!

Where are you going?

Where are the keys?

That's my car!

Stop him! Murderer!

James Bond, panic?

Bloody hell!

Rousseau has his charm!
Here, dickhead!

It's no time to piss me off.

Better grab your brush.

007 has got the jitters!

It is as a representative

of the French government

that I pay an emotional tribute

to man's genius.

Faced with so many marvels,

one wonders how frontiers

can still exist.

The differences fade

and leave in their place

an immense feeling of joy

at these sublime expressions

of the human mind.

Bravo!

The jerk is out to steal my daughter.

With so much beauty at hand,

one suddenly feels good,

generous, fraternal.

Hey, the sign! Stop him!

Stop him!

We are brothers.

We are brothers!

Calm down.
Remain calm!

Everyone has the right
to expression.

We're not sectarian.
Let him go.

Backing off?

Not fraternising with everyone?
Favouritism?

- What do you want from me?
- A kiss.

A large fraternal kiss.

Yes. There.

Sorry. Excuse me.
And you want to abduct my daughter.

Bungling idiot!

Racist, eh? Not nice.

Look out!

No, no. Leave him to me.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

Leave him to me!

My car! Bastard!

Well done!
There is a justice! Degenerate!

- Poof!
- Not in front of the kid!

- Stop your nonsense!
- Be quiet.

Me, have a kid with him?

Will you can it?

- My daughter!
- She's not yours!

The bitch was cheating on me!
For years...

The best years of my life

I gave up for this woman.

- Cheating on me!
- He's mad.

And this kid...

that I raised as my own.

20 years,
I thought she was mine.

I bought her ice creams,

double cornets,
vanilla and pistachio.

I'm a broken man, your Honour.

Sorry. Commander.

- The bitches.
- Yes, bitches!

- Let's...
- Let's go, yes.

- May I kiss my wife?
- Go ahead.

- Will you wait for me?
- You were very good.

Oh... my daughter!

My poor lost little girl.

- Is that for dad or Stéphane?
- For you.

Why must they lie all the time?

Don't they realise the harm they do?

I hate lying.
I hate lying!

Thank you, commissioner.
Thank you for stepping in.

It wasn't easy.
Your husband... broke a few things.

- He won't be long.
- Thank you, Roger.

Little Roger Puglia

is now a commissioner
like his dad.

Little Roger with whom
I'd play mummy on the beach.

- You've grown.
- Thankfully. I was only five.

You have your father's eyes.
Look at his eyes!

Absolutely superb.
Magnificent.

Absolutely superb.

This is scandalous! Hey!

Sophie! This young man... You...

- But sir...
- Stéphane, really!

- Really!
- It's Roger. Little Roger.

- Little Roger?
- Roger Puglia.

- He's my son!
- He's my son!

The bitches!