Original subtitles

What are you doing, Antoine? - Guess.

I'm getting dressed. - You're taking off?

First I'm putting on.

My clothes, that is. Then I'm taking off.

Word games so early?

Come here.

No, don't open the curtains.

- You were more affectionate last night. - Me?

- Very, very affectionate. - You must have been dreaming.

We were both wide awake, and you know it.

Then I gave in to temptation. But that's the last time.

It is?

As of today, I'm walking the path to chastity.

Come here. Like last night.

Last night was last night.

The camera's tender gaze the passing instant freezes

You're free to tear each moment's evidence to pieces

Adhesive tape, so simple can restore a notion

Of order to the remnants oflife's torn emotion

We made the perfect picture of the clever couple

Set up house, dual happiness Why take the trouble

Too soon thejagged edges pierce and blood is drawn

We fight, make up, then fight again and love is gone

Our love couldn't last

It's all in the past

We say good-bye All ends left undone

It's love on the run

I sleep, I dream, I wake again A child soon follows

Leave the nest, fly off, return Just like the swallows

Move in the two-room flat Then promptly split the scene

This person's name could be Colette, Antoine, Sabine

Chasing after things that all slipped through my fiingers

Perfumed girls, their kisses Only memory lingers

My mother at her mirror in my parents'room

I catch once more the fragrance of that same perfume

Here's some breakfast.

I don't have time! I'll be late and they'll fire me.

It's your fault.

Keep a few shirts here and you'd save an hour at least.

- I'd still have to shave. - I have a razor.

I prefer to use my own.

What do you use a razor for anyway?

No, don't tell me. I don't want to know.

Listen, a normal guy, if you get my drift,

who enjoys sleeping with a woman

who enjoys sleeping with him,

if this normal guy would keep a razor and some clothes at her place,

they'd both save a fortune in rent.

A guy can be "normal" and still have certain habits -

Habits or quirks?

You're like an old man!

Fine, I'm an old man.

But with age comes wisdom!

You can give your friend his watch back.

You fixed it?

You'll have to take it to a real watchmaker.

My skills never entered the digital age. - Don't worry.

But I do have something for you.

L�autaud's Diaries.

No kidding! You found all 19 volumes? For me?

Herein lies proof of the poor guy's trouble with women.

Poor L�autaud!

L�autaud's hang-up was he wanted to make love to his mother.

She wanted it too, but she got scared, so nothing ever happened.

I'm really glad to have them. Thanks.

You're not so bad after all.

Am I allowed to put my hand here?

If you promise to leave it there.

Listen, I talked to my boss about switching vacation dates.

We can take off on July 31.

Just close up shop and we're off. - To the country?

And we'll drink warm milk fresh from the cow!

My friend Zenaida invited us

to her housewarming tonight.

I said we'd go, okay?

Sure. Absolutely. Perfect. See you tonight.

I've been trying to reach you for an hour!

It was busy, I know. What's up?

- Don't tell me you forgot our meeting. - Oh, my God!

We're signing the final papers in an hour, so hurry up.

- I'm shaving. - Stop shaving and come over.

No, wait. I'll pick you up. Alphonse wants to talk to you.

But keep it short, okay? Here he is.

Dad? Can you take me to the station for summer camp?

- What time? - I don't know. Ask Mom.

He has to be at the station at 7:00. I'm busy tonight at the conservatory.

I have plans tonight.

Cancel them. Alphonse needs you.

All right. See you soon.

I've got two seats for the Shapiro concert. Maybe we could go together?

Sorry, I'm busy.

The Paul Simon album came in. Do you want it?

- I'd like to listen first. - In the booth.

What a creep!

Sabine, I made a mistake. No time to explain.

I can't go to Zenaida's tonight. - We can be late.

No, I can't.

Tell me why, but first stop panting.

Sorry, I've gotta run. Someone's waiting for me.

I'll call you from the print shop.

That's too much, Antoine - to forget the day you're getting divorced!

No one would believe it.

Yet the unbelievable is sometimes true.

I suppose you've forgotten our wedding date too.

- We were married on February 26. - You actually remembered?

- Of course. It was St. Nestor's day. - Of course...

- What's that? - I'm giving a lesson.

At this hour?

Where's the violin?

I'm staying at a hotel. I'll come for Alphonse tomorrow.

Listen, you sleep in the bed, I'll sleep in the chair. It'll be fine.

I won't sleep in the same room as you!

Fine! Then we won't sleep in the same room!

They've got nerve... printing that in the paper!

It's about the Common Market in Brussels. Listen.

"The meeting adjourned at 8:00 p.m.

Upon returning to their rooms, each delegate found a lascivious broad."

- That can't be. - I swear. Listen.

Imagine... in Le Monde!

"Upon returning to their rooms, each delegate found a lascivious broad."

- I don't believe you. - Read it yourself.

"Upon returning to their rooms, each delegate found...

a lavish spread." You liar!

Mrs. Christine Doinel to thejudge's chambers.

- Why only you? I don't understand. - Must have been a mistake.

No, it's normal procedure. Each gets a turn alone.

Please, quickly.

We'll wait here.

Antoine, I can't stay long. I'm meeting some friends later.

Do you mind? - No, not at all.

- Are you sure? - Absolutely positive.

- Would you tell me if you did mind? - Certainly not.

But I assure you, I don't mind.

Mr. Antoine Doinel to thejudge's chambers.

- Hello. - Please be seated.

I asked to see each of you separately

to make sure you both reached your decision freely

and without coercion.

Since we first met three months ago, you've had time to consider

the consequences of what you're about to do.

Until just six months ago you couldn't get divorced

without proof of abusive letters from a spouse.

What if none existed?

I'd make up something and have my client copy it.

Can you reach that bottle for me?

Hey!

Mrs. Doinel and Counselor Lecors to thejudge's chambers.

- Hello, Your Honor. - Counselor.

I'll now read the items in the settlement.

"First: Christine Doinel will resume use of her maiden name, Christine Darbon."

You originally said you would keep your married name for your son.

Yes, but we discussed it with Alphonse. Didn't we, Antoine?

Alphonse understands perfectly. He doesn't mind at all.

"Second: Custody and support.

By mutual agreement, the mother will have custody of the child,

while father will retain full visitation rights

and may provide lodging not to exceed half the annual vacation.

For the child's education and support,

Mr. Doinel will pay Mrs. Doinel monthly alimony of 900 francs

until such time as the child becomes self-supporting."

May I, please?

I shall now read the document in its entirety.

If I asked you a favor, would you do it?

Depends.

Dodging, eh? Will you do it?

That depends. Just ask!

Would you put your glasses back on?

"As judge of the family court,

I hereby declare that

Mr. Antoine Doinel and Mrs. Christine Doinel, maiden name Darbon,

born in Dijon on March 12, 1951,

upon theirjoint petition

are granted a divorce.

The settlement stipulates that both parties will bear the costs.

If they fail to agree on the terms, said costs will be equally divided."

Nothing to sign?

Who are all these people?

I knew it - the media. You're the first to divorce under the new law.

Don't go.

- Think they'll give us a picture? - You're very calm.

Best to put on a good face.

Good-bye, Counselor.

- Don't you say hi to friends anymore? - Colette!

What's new?

- I'm delighted to see you. - Me too.

Did you see the debate on TV?

Yes. I thought the prosecutor overdid it.

No, divorce by mutual consent dates back to the Revolution.

Right, Antoine? - Leave me out of this.

Counsel would be happy to be taken off the case.

Hey, I know that guy. That's Antoine Doinel!

I met him years ago at a youth concert. He tried to pick me up.

At fiirst I was impressed, 'cause he had a job and his own place.

He worked at Philips. A real independent type.

He's practically my client, since I represented his ex-wife.

They just got divorced under the new law.

You don't say! Antoine is divorced.

Should I offer condolences or congratulations?

Napoleon used the law to dumpJosephine. Right, Antoine?

What did you decide about the Draguignan case?

The more everyone discourages me, the more inclined I am to take it.

They discourage you 'cause they care about you.

It's a nasty piece of business.

I'd like to at least have a look at the whole file.

That's why I'm going to Aix-en-Provence tonight.

- Too bad. But good luck. - I'll need it.

Off and running again. That guy hasn't changed.

You're all dressed up. Been to a wedding?

No, just the opposite.

Ah, here's your watch. My friend wasn't able to fix it.

- What's this? - A rush job.

I did half to help you out, but you'll have to take over.

Thanks a lot.

I swear, I'll never get my head above water!

It's your fault. You should never have gotten divorced.

You always go for the same kind of girl anyway.

I'm sure this new one's no different. You only fall for nice girls.

That's not how I look at it.

I don't fall in love with just the girl, but with her whole family.

Her father, her mother- I like girls with nice parents.

Is this Sabine tall or short?

Neither. She comes up to about here on me.

When I met you, you only dated tall girls.

Very tall.

A head or two taller than me.

Does the name Antoine Doinel ring a bell?

Here's the Dalloz!

He had a book out about a year ago.

- I thought you wanted the Dalloz. - I do, but not that one.

I'd like to find the novel by this Doinel.

One thing at a time. First the Dalloz.

I need the volume on family law.

It's for the case in Draguignan. I can't figure out what to do.

I can see you don't give a damn!

Listen, Colette.

In here, you're just another customer to me.

Nonsense.

You're much more than a bookseller to me.

You've got some way of showing it.

No need to be so bitter and nasty. It was just a fling.

Telephone, Mr. Xavier.

I can't tonight. How's tomorrow night?

All right, Sabine. Bye.

Tell me...

is that Sabine a woman?

- Yes, it is. - I see.

Forgive me for bothering you

by buying books in your bookstore.

Now I remember:

Doinel's book had the word "love" in the title.

There I said it: Love!

If I were you, I'd look for it secondhand.

I don't carry books with "love" in their titles!

Unbelievable!

What a bastard!

- Love and Other Troubles. - That's the one.

Show me your bread.

Good.

I see you started already.

Bring your bread and plate over here.

Put them down.

Right hand or left?

Left, sir.

- How much is that, Ida? - Thirty-nine francs.

Xavier is so handsome. Looks like Napoleon.

I'm so happy I found this. I can read it tonight

on the train leaving for Aix-en-Provence at 7:02 on track 15

from the Gare de Lyon.

Stay there, okay?

- Sabine, I'm at the station. - The station?

I forgot an important commitment. I'll explain later.

You promised you'd -

I had to bring Alphonse to the station. He's leaving for music camp.

I could have gone with you. I've wanted to meet your son forever.

This isn't the time to confuse Alphonse with that.

You always have to complicate things.

I'm sure your wife - ex-wife - would agree.

My life's split into pieces, and I can't change it overnight.

All your little intrigues and quirks tire me out.

Since the divorce, Alphonse meets too many strangers anyway-

Strangers? Thanks a lot!

Listen, if I'm just a hooker to you, then say so,

and pay me for each time we make love.

Stop laughing at your own jokes and listen to me!

The train's leaving and I'm drowning in work,

so this is no time to be making stupidjokes on the phone!

Good-bye!

I think that's your car. Hurry!

Behave yourself with the girls.

Give Daddy a kiss.

- Hold on, Dad. - I'm holding on.

Be good.

- What number am I in? - Fifty-one.

- How soon do we leave? - Six minutes.

- Is there a dining car? - At the front of the train.

Are we leaving soon?

Very soon.

In exactly 15 minutes.

That lady must be a spy.

If you practice hard, you'll be a great musician.

- What if I don't? - If you don't,

you'll wind up a music critic.

The train's about to take off, Alphonse!

I fiirst saw Colette at a Berlioz concert.

She sat five rows ahead of me on the aisle.

I noticed her right away.

I knew her name and address. We'd even spoken.

But I wasn't getting anywhere. I told Ren�...

I'm an idiot. I've gotten off to a bad start.

She's really not even my type.

She talks like a boy and treats me like a buddy.

I try to talk seriously and she laughs!

Still I freeze my ass off waiting outside her door.

How do you know you're in love? Very simple:

You start acting against your own best interest.

He may be right.

We made a date for the following week, but I couldn't wait, so the next day...

Alphonse, how are you? What brings you here?

I've got tickets for a lecture on electronic music.

I've got a lot of homework this afternoon.

- Then maybe we could go to a movie. - I can't. I've got a paper due tomorrow.

- Maybe we could just talk a while. - No, some other time. See you.

Colette's stepfather looked gruff, but I liked him right away.

Are your parents still alive?

Yes, but I don't see them much. We don't get along.

What a shame!

Your mother must be terribly sad not to see you.

It's partly my fault.

I used to run away a lot.

- Colette would never do that. - Watch me!

Question: Where is one better off than in the bosom of one's family?

Answer: Anywhere else!

- Herv� Bazin. - Right.

- You know, Colette isn't really- - Yes, I am.

More wine, please.

Incredible! These kids have no respect!

"Dear Antoine, your love letter was very nicely written.

It suggests a man of experience.

I'm going to hear Leroux tonight. Will you be there?

Thanks for the books.

Oh, Mother fiinds you very romantic, probably because of your long hair.

Until tonight. Colette. '"

Is this Colette?

Yes, it is.

Why didn't you show up yesterday? Were you ill?

I said I "might'"go.

But I ended up getting together with some friends.

They're really wild! We carried on all night long.

It was a great time, but it got a little crazy at the end.

I don't think I got home till 5:00 a.m.

- May I stop by this afternoon? - If you like.

But I can't promise I'll be here. We all said we might get together today.

- See you in a bit, then. - You will if I'm here.

I decided to forget about Colette completely.

True to my promise,

I immediately stopped paying the slightest attention to her.

This guy's got nerve.

But as fate would have it,

her parents moved right across the street from me.

Christine was different from Colette, but there was a musical link there too.

She studied violin at the conservatory.

I'd known her for several months,

but the day she tapped on the window, I decided I would marry her.

I called her "Peggy Proper. '" "Peggy'"for her reserved, British side.

And "Proper'" because that's how she was.

From the start, Christine was nicer to me than I was to her.

I forgot my handkerchief. Would you lend me yours?

- I've only got Kleenex. - I never blow my nose on paper!

- You can leave me here. - Here?

You don't have your violin. - I'm not giving a lesson.

- Where are you going? - Do you always tell me where you're going?

See you tonight.

DRESSMAKER- GYNECOLOGIST - NOTARY PUBLIC

First sitting in the dining car, miss. There's a gentleman waiting for you.

A gentleman?

I'll be right there.

I was hoping you'd come, Xavier, my darling.

Antoine! Forgive me!

No, you forgive me for disappointing you!

No, not at all.

I saw you at the station but thought you'd take a different train.

I'm delighted to see you. - Likewise, Colette.

I have so much to tell you.

Please, sit down.

This is quite a surprise, but a good one!

What a strange day!

Actually, I didn't mean to leave Paris.

- But seeing you was a shock. - What kind of shock?

An emotional shock.

I had to see you, so I jumped on the train at the last minute.

I don't even have a ticket, just a station pass.

No!

You know, I think about you a lot.

Tell me, how long has it been -

Please, let's not get into dates and figures. There's no need.

Isn't it enough that we're happy to see each other?

Actually, we did spend some time together today. Look.

But that's several years old.

I've changed a lot since then. Besides, it's fiction.

A bit autobiographical, yes, but fiction nonetheless.

Quite right. I was just reading the bit about when they move.

Here's what it says:

"I decided to forget about Colette completely.

True to my promise,

I immediately stopped paying the slightest attention to her. '"

Fine.

"But as fate would have it,

her parents moved right across the street from me,

right opposite my window.

I had no choice but to acknowledge their presence

and accept their invitations to dinner. '"

That's great. Nicely written.

But it's not the truth!

You're the one who moved in right across from us.

I still remember my parents'surprise

when we got home from the country that afternoon.

- Look who's there! - Antoine!

He's right across the street!

What's going on?

- Do you live there now? - Yes.

Since when?

You must have known.

May we come up?

He's all moved in.

This is great! Look at the sink and faucet.

Look, you can see our windows.

But our side of the street gets the sun.

You're right.

I guess I thought the story worked better that way.

You don't say.

The same way I create one fictional character out of several real people.

I know all about literary devices.

But may I assume that "the girl from the Youth Concerts"

is a reference to me?

But getting back to your life... are you married?

Ask me yesterday and I'd have said yes.

I was married for five years, then separated three years ago.

That is, separated for the first time.

Our repeated separations were more turbulent than our years of marriage.

I know one can't judge these things from outside,

but you didn't seem too anxious to save your marriage.

Am I wrong? - No, just the opposite.

Once I started writing about my childhood,

I grew nervous and irritable.

And Christine didn't help. I felt she disapproved.

So I sought adventures outside

to make up for what I had missed before our marriage.

Quarrels became a daily affair, and we separated for the first time.

I'd like a cab at 17 Rue Descazes.

Six minutes? Thank you.

- Are you going out? - Yes.

Stay a while with Alphonse if you like. Mrs. Martin will make dinner.

No, I'll walk you down.

Good-bye, my little man. Be good.

- You know how to turn on the TV? - Yes.

- Take good care of Alphonse. - I certainly will.

- Take this picture. - No, I gave it to you. It's yours.

- Please take it. - It's yours. You keep it.

All right.

Remember when we'd go out and you'd say,

"I'm taking my keys too in case we get into a fight"?

I'm glad to see you in a good mood.

Surprised? I know when you come here you must think,

"She's going to yell at me again!" Admit it!

I admit nothing of the kind.

- Don't kiss me. - I just thought -

- Let me go. - I was trying to help you.

I don't need help.

You can be so unpleasant!

And you're insensitive! Always what you want!

Kiss you when you want, leave you alone when you want.

I'm not at your beck and call. At least not anymore.

All right!

I'm sorry. Forgive me.

I understand - - No, I know that trick too.

"I understand. I'm rotten. You're too good for me."

- I'd never pull that. - You've pulled that a hundred times.

You can put it all in your book.

Just so happens I've almost finished.

It's all I think about. If I'm a little confused, that's why.

I'm sure things will be better between us once it's finished.

Don't bother sending me a copy. I won't read it.

I don't like this business of writing about your childhood,

dragging your parents through the mud.

I don't know much, but one thing I do know:

If you use art to settle accounts, it's no longer art.

I've been thinking the same thing myself recently.

Do what you have to do, but let me be.

I'm not proud and never have been,

so I can tell you: I still love you.

But I'd rather not see you anymore.

Call me when you're coming to see Alphonse so I can step out.

- Where the hell is it? - They said six minutes.

Anyway, I hope you're happy.

I don't think that way anymore.

It can't work. She and I hardly talk.

- You just have to smile lovingly! - That's exactly what we do!

I have lockjaw from so much smiling.

Restaurants are the worst, waiting between courses.

She smiles and expects me to make small talk.

I can't even eat.

It's terrible!

I said I was going away for a few days for some peace and quiet.

I feel sorry for you!

Here we go. Where are you going?

I don't really know.

- Shall I drop you off somewhere? - No, that's all right.

Just a minute.

Shall I cancel my plans and stay with you?

Shall we go to a movie?

No, I'd like to be alone, wander around a bit.

You're sweet.

Kiss me.

You're my little sister, my daughter, my mother.

I'd have liked to be your wife too.

A few years later, when we were back together,

a new character entered the scene.

Liliane was part femme fatale, part tomboy,

the opposite of Christine in every way,

yet in every way what Christine wanted to be.

I've always wanted to play. Should I buy a violin right away?

No, it's too early. Better to rent for now.

Fine. I'll be back on Saturday.

I'll tell you then where you can rent one.

All right. Good-bye.

- You're too much. - Who's that girl?

She has a beautiful face.

It's true. She's very beautiful. She's my new pupil.

Violin lessons at her age? How old is she?

I didn't ask to see her passport.

I think it's great. Her parents could never afford lessons.

Poor thing!

- Now that she works - - What does she do?

- She writes children's books. - That's hard work.

She writes and does the illustrations too.

I showed her a few things I drew for Alphonse.

She liked them. At least she said she did.

Not bad at all. Looks like the Knights of the Round Table.

You're not far off. They were commissioned

for one of Mr. Rohmer's movies.

- And you did this together? - We split it.

Liliane did the faces, and I did the costumes.

Is that guy Lancelot?

No, Perceval of Wales.

They were inseparable, and sometimes Liliane spent the night.

Meanwhile, Alphonse was growing up. - Sleep well, Alphonse?

Yes, Dad.

Hey, can you shut that?

- Shut what? - Shut your trap!

- Things going all right, Alphonse? - Yeah.

Hey, can you shut that? - Of course.

- You can? - I'll try and shut it.

- Shut what? - Shut your trap.

Once Liliane entered our lives, Christine and I never had time alone.

I rented a summer house, but of course it was the three of us again.

One, two, three...

Now we'll do a simple turn. Put your hands like this.

- I'll never get it. - Yes, you will. Once again.

It was as if each wanted to become the other.

If Antoine saw that, we'd never hear the end of it.

He's reading Colette's novels right now.

The "Claudine" series and all that.

Now he sees lesbians everywhere.

Know what he told me this morning?

"I can't help wondering if Liliane's intentions towards you

might not be a bit questionable.

That girl likes things vague, strange, ambiguous.

I'd watch out if I were you! '"

Ah, the old familiar pattern.

The husband "needs his space."

He leaves, comes back, leaves again,

until one day he comes back and finds the locks changed.

Sorry, I didn't mean to be insensitive.

What will you do now? About your ticket, I mean.

- I'll get off at the next stop. - There isn't one before Lyons.

I don't know. I wish we could -

All right, all right. We'll continue our talk in my compartment.

Come on.

Aren't you even watching?

He could have fallen out!

Pay attention to your child!

- Are you all right? - Yes.

- Could you please open my compartment? - Yes, miss.

- There you are. - The other seemed nicer.

- It's taken. - May I have a look?

If you'd like.

- I'm sorry. - Too bad.

Thanks anyway.

Unbelievable!

I can't believe that guy! Pass me a pillow.

You write well, Antoine,

but you won't become a real writer

until you create a completely fictional story, entirely from your imagination.

I have, and I've even got a title:

The Manuscript Found by a Nasty Kid.

That's a good title. Very nice.

What's it about?

It's about this guy who comes out of the bathroom in a caf�.

He stops to make a telephone call,

but another man is in the booth, making a call.

My hero can't help but overhear snatches of conversation.

You're so selfish!

The man is very excited, downright furious,

and my hero realizes he's breaking up with a woman on the other end.

Drop dead!

At one point the guy pulls a picture of a woman

out of his pocket,

tears it to pieces,

throws the pieces on the floor,

then hangs up and storms out of the booth.

My hero, who has witnessed the whole thing,

slips into the booth,

picks up the pieces of the picture, and puts them in his pocket.

Back home, he casually- No, he frantically puts the pieces

back together and tapes them in place.

The photographer's stamp on the back is his fiirst lead:

He's ready to start his investigation.

I forgot to say that no sooner is the face in the picture reassembled

than my hero falls madly in love with the unknown woman.

What happens next? I'm dying to know.

With patience, cunning and persistence,

my hero tracks the girl down

and arranges to meet as if by chance,

never revealing his feelings nor the strange path that led him to her.

Fantastic!

But what then? He's in love with her.

But does she love him?

That's where I'm stuck.

He'll probably win her heart,

but once they're together,

they can only expect the usual deceit, disappointment and separation,

and I really don't want to cover that same gloomy ground

already explored in my first book.

What a letdown, Antoine.

I can't believe it.

You sure have a strange idea about relationships.

It seems all you care about is the first encounter.

Once they're together, it's all downhill.

That won't do. You need to find a way-

Shit, who's that?

Don't move.

I was asked to give you this message, miss.

Any reply? - No.

What are you doing? Get off that!

Leave it alone! - Forgive me.

No, I won't!

You can't just do anything at all and then say "forgive me."

You haven't changed at all.

Neither have you, Colette.

Now I understand what compelled me to come find you.

Let me kiss you.

No, I won't. You know why?

It takes two to kiss.

You didn't learn a single thing from our affair years ago!

Antoine, I liked you, but I was never in love with you.

But you tried to force me to love you,

cornering me by winning over my parents.

Not to mention the way you'd pounce on me

as soon as the lights went down in a movie theater.

No, you haven't changed. You're as self-centered as ever.

For example, you saw the porter give me this message.

Were you the slightest bit curious?

- Mere discretion, Colette. - Sheer indifference, Antoine!

Who have we been talking about for two hours? You!

Mere discretion again, I suppose.

I know you don't care, but I'll tell you anyway.

This message is from that ape I ran into in the corridor.

He's offered me 1,000 francs to sleep with him tonight.

What should I do? Times are hard.

I've got a law degree, but I'm out of work.

So like other women with half-decent looks, I get by somehow.

Night trains are my specialty!

Of course, the porter gets 10%.

Get the picture? Our little chat is costing me a thousand francs.

I think I'd better be going.

Antoine's coming. Tell him you haven't seen me all day.

You have no idea where I am.

- I'd like to see Sabine. - She hasn't been in all day.

Hasn't been in all day?

She hasn't been in all day?

I'll give her a call, then.

Is he gone? Good. I'm going home.

- Emmanuel, I lost something. - Something important?

- A photograph. - You can have one of me.

Go to hell.

Sabine, open up.

Darling, I know you're there.

Give me a call so I can hang up on you too.

You want an apology? Fine.

Sabine, forgive me for hanging up on you.

Listen to me. - I'm listening.

- I can't say these things out here. - Then write them in your book.

See, I can't even write when I know you're mad at me.

You have such influence over me.

I've thought about what you said and changed the ending of the book.

No suicide. The character decides to live.

You're right there: Don't drive others to despair

while you get by just fine.

Don't act like you despise life when you don't.

So we agree. Don't be hostile.

Sorry, it's how I feel.

- About our vacation - - Sorry, but I made plans.

Solo plans.

- Where? - 2,000 miles from Paris.

Let me in, Sabine. I lost an important document in your place.

It might convince you. - Of what?

- My good faith. - Wait there.

You can have your letters back.

I've got no use for that pack of lies.

"Sabine, my love,

I just got home and couldn't wait to write you.

I couldn't go to the movies without you after all.

We parted only an hour ago, and already I feel a great emptiness.

We onlyjust met and already have to say good-bye. It's hard. '"

But I'll be back in three days.

Will you be faithful to me for three days?

Faithful? Absolutely! Of course! What a question!

What about you?

I have no choice.

You have me under your spell, you bastard.

Very well. Stay that way.

But didn't you say you weren't the jealous type and that I was free?

Not that I'm planning anything. I'd just like to know.

It's true. I'm not the jealous type. Do as you please.

But at least try to be faithful in your head.

- All right? - Let's shake on it.

- Deal? - Deal!

No weaseling out now!

Here are the galleys.

The book details everything General de Gaulle did

the day he disappeared on May 30, 1968.

The press is dying for a look at it,

but the boss promised to keep it top secret.

Top secret?

There's only one set of proofs,

and the type will be destroyed immediately after printing.

Put it in the safe.

I'm off. I don't even want to know the combination.

Is that you, Antoine?

The misunderstandings between you two hurt her very much.

Actually, a lot of people misunderstood her.

They thought she was angry at the whole world, which wasn't true.

She just couldn't tolerate hypocrisy.

So she was sore at everyone: The media, the clergy,

shopkeepers, politicians.

You might not realize it,

but your mother was an anarchist.

You may be right,

but I never thought of her that way.

Of course, on a personal level it was a different story.

She was like a little bird.

Yes, a little bird.

After your father's death -

You know he and I remained friends up to the end -

her eyesight grew weak, but she refused to wear glasses or have an eye exam.

So I would read to her.

Every night for an hour, sometimes two.

Do you still love books?

Oh, yes.

I remember, even at 13 you always had your nose buried in a book.

Do you remember the fiirst time we met?

It was at that Edith Piaf concert.

We saw each other once before that

at Place Vichy.

You have no idea how shocked she was to see you there in the street

when you were supposed to be in school!

I didn't know you yet, so I asked her:

Which is your son?

- You seemed huge! - 'Cause you were so small.

There you are.

A little extra homework and you get sick, eh?

And your parents fall for it.

Can't wait to see what excuse you wrangled out of them this time.

Let me see your note.

- I don't have one. - Don't have one?

You think that's how it works? It's not that easy, my friend!

- It was... my mother... - What about her?

She's dead!

Oh, my gosh.

Sorry, son. I didn't know.

Never mind, son.

Simonot.

"The Hare."

"The Hare," byJean Richepin.

Sit down, boys.

We'll discuss this tonight!

To be honest with you,

I was very sad you didn't make it to her funeral.

It wasn't my fault.

I was in a military prison in Germany at the time.

The captain told me my mother had died

and gave me three days to attend the funeral.

But he couldn't issue a travel order,

and I had no money for the train ticket, so I stayed in jail.

I didn't know.

Deep down I was sure you cared,

because your mother loved you, son.

She had a strange way of showing it, but she loved you.

It wasn't easy getting a place for her in the Montmartre cemetery,

but I insisted,

because she loved this neighborhood.

She'd be happy to know she's next to Marguerite Gauthier.

You know who that is?

No, I don't think I do.

La Dame aux cam�lias by Alexandre Dumas?

I thought she was made up.

No, she really existed.

Didn't you ever notice her grave next to your mother's?

To be honest, I've never visited my mother's grave.

I never spoke to anyone when I got back. I didn't even know she was buried there.

I can't believe my ears.

Know what we'll do? What time do you go back to work?

2:30 at the latest.

Total comes to 19 francs. That's 9.50 each.

After your mother's death, I felt completely adrift.

I left my civil service job.

I was tired of bowing and scraping.

I started my own little business.

Very little.

I rent out formal wear.

Her grave's this way.

I'm sure you realize by now

that if you and your parents didn't get along,

the fault was not entirely theirs.

I'd like to see you once in a while.

This may surprise you,

but the more I look at you,

the more you remind me of your mother.

This is all so sad,

but I'm glad I brought you to see your mother's grave.

Oh, before I forget...

my business card.

If you ever need a tuxedo, come and see me.

You'd take a 36. At no charge, of course.

Very well, if the occasion arises.

Good-bye, Mr. Lucien. - Good-bye, son.

Let me give you a kiss.

My dear Sabine,

whom I love but who doesn't wish to see me.

Though you don't want to listen, I have to tell you

about a strange encounter I had today.

I ran into Mr. Lucien, one of my mother's lovers.

The main one.

His questions about my mother reminded me

of when the psychologist examined me.

There we called her the "spychologist. '"

Your parents say you're always lying.

Oh, I lie now and then, I suppose.

Sometimes I'd tell them the truth and they still wouldn't believe me,

so I prefer to lie.

Mr. Lucien said my mother was like a little bird.

A little bird.

Were we talking about the same person?

But Mrs. Doinel did teach me one thing: Love is all that matters.

When she'd come home late at night, I'd pretend to be asleep.

Love is the opposite of prison.

I was only 13,yet the "spychologist'" already wanted to know about my love life.

Have you ever slept with a girl?

No, but some friends of mine have.

They told me where the hookers hang out.

So I went and tried to pick up some girls,

but they all yelled at me, so I got scared and I left.

I went back a couple times.

Once a man saw me and asked me what I was doing there.

He was North African. So I told him.

I guess he knew a lot of women, and he said he knew one

who liked guys my age.

So he took me to her hotel,

only she wasn't there that day.

We waited an hour or two, but she didn't show up, so I left.

I wasn't precocious when it came to girls,

but once out of the army, I started making up for lost time.

I wanted to feel like an adult.

I desperately needed a boost of confiidence.

Would that wide-eyed girl want me? The student?

The shoe clerk? The typist from the Ministry of Agriculture?

The night clerk's daughter?

Then one fine day, a fine day indeed,

I met you, Sabine,

and I no longer look at other women.

Have you forgotten our fiirst night at the movies?

The violence frightened you and you buried your face in my shoulder.

I hate boxing!

That night I was so happy you hated boxing!

But now you've rejected me, and I've lost all hope.

I think I'll have the character in my novel die.

Let me make sure I understand.

She never married again, so he can't be the boy's stepfather.

No, the boy was indeed his son,

but he got the notion she cheated on him and the boy wasn't his.

So he intends to base his defense on that doubt.

At the moment, he's not concerned with his defense.

When the neighbors saw him spit on the boy's body,

they wanted to lynch him.

The police couldn't protect him, and he was badly beaten.

So now he refuses to choose a lawyer.

I've been appointed, but I have yet to speak to him.

All he does is scream insults at me.

- So counsel thought - - I understand.

"Only a woman's touch can tame the savage criminal."

You know public sentiment in the murder of a child.

Then why should I be any different?

Anyway, I'm willing to meet him.

But first I'd like to look through the file.

Don't waste your time. You can return to Paris immediately.

He tried to commit suicide an hour ago.

He's in the prison infirmary.

- Slit his wrists. - With a piece of glass.

- Didn't you take away his watch? - Of course.

He smashed the lightbulb in his cell.

You have a week to make a decision.

We'll be in touch. I'll call you in Paris.

I probably shouldn't admit it, but I'm relieved.

I need time to think.

Would you like a ride to the station?

Yes. I'm a bit upset.

I'd like to call a friend to pick me up at the station. May I?

Sabine Barn�rias?

I don't believe it!

I thought things like this only happened in novels.

A married guy posing as a bachelor.

I've just about broken up with him.

Probably the biggest mistake of my life.

Anyway...

What about you?

Same old story.

It's a deadlock.

I don't know where I stand.

You and I are alike. Just watch: We'll end up together.

I don't understand this movie.

I thought that guy was the killer.

I forgot my handkerchief. Do you have one?

- I've only got Kleenex. - I never blow my nose on paper!

- Isn't Xavier here? - No, he's not.

Fine. I don't care.

I must get in touch with him immediately.

Please give me his wife's telephone number.

Mr. Xavier is not married.

Fine. His ex-wife's number.

I assure you, Mr. Xavier has never been married.

Never married?

Who's this? A pen pal?

That's Miss Sabine, his younger sister. Haven't you met her?

She works in a record store now.

Miss!

- Me? - Yes, you.

Pardon me, but are you Sabine Barn�rias?

- No, sorry. - Please forgive me.

I'm not Sabine, but you and I belong to the same sorority:

Antoine Doinel's ex-girlfriends!

I saw you at the courthouse the other day. I'm a lawyer.

But you may know me as "Colette from the Youth Concerts."

Oh, of course.

- Are you here to see Sabine too? - Yes.

I rang, but there was no answer.

Let's wait together, somewhere more comfortable.

I saw some benches in the courtyard.

I'm guessing you've been sent here on some kind of"special mission."

You're right. And you?

In a way, though I'm acting alone.

I know Sabine's brother and wanted to wrap up some loose ends.

I just read Antoine's book, and I know that's all ancient history for you,

but I'm still shaken from it. Shall we sit down?

That bastard Antoine managed to make me feel guilty retroactively,

so I'm trying to help him out.

I've always suspected he married me only because you rejected him.

No, not at all.

I was in school when I met him, and though he was working,

we were far too young to talk about marriage.

Hello, Antoine.

- How are things? - Fine.

- Sit down. Have you eaten? - Yes.

- You sure? - Yes, I had dinner.

Are you sure?

I could whip up an omelet and salad.

No, I'll just have a tangerine.

- You want a plate for the peel? - Don't bother. I'll use yours.

- Not again! - Who's that?

It's a real parade here today.

Hi. Come on in. This way.

Antoine had won my parents over.

He spent all his time at the house,

not realizing he'd become like a kid cousin to me.

I longed for more exciting adventures.

Mom, this is Albert. I told you about him.

My stepfather.

- And I believe you've met Antoine. - Yes, we met once.

I'll get my coat.

Let me have a cigarette.

I'm ready. We're off, then.

Bye.

Antoine was longing for exciting adventures too.

I'd become close friends with Liliane, one of my violin students.

We took her with us on vacation,

but Antoine fought with her nonstop.

You're always talking with everyone, touching everybody!

That's not true! So what if people come talk to me?

I'm always anxious,

trying to figure out "Where's Liliane?"

Stop arguing and come eat!

One day I ran out of money while shopping

and came back earlier than expected.

The door was locked, and I thought they'd had another fight,

even though I had told Antoine,

"Try to be nicer to Liliane. '"

I was surprised,

but not as surprised as they were.

Antoine tried to pass it off with one ofhis classic excuses:

He had given Liliane a book,

and he noticed she protected it with a newsprint dustjacket.

This so moved him-

- That he jumped into bed with her! - Exactly.

What could be more logical?

Strangely enough, I didn't feel sad or jealous,

which made me realize I was no longer in love with Antoine.

I had married too young, not yet an adult.

So he and I separated,

and he lived with Liliane until she too decided to leave.

He called on me once again to convince her to stay.

Liliane, don't go. Antoine will fall apart.

He's always falling apart.

He needs a wife, a mistress, a little sister, a nanny, and a nurse.

I can't play all those roles at once.

- You're too hard on him. - I am who I am.

You can't make everyone else pay for your rotten childhood.

Besides, Liliane wanted to adopt a child and live on her own.

Which reminds me, Colette:

Antoine said he ran into you one day with your baby.

I have to give you a kiss.

Albert, remember Antoine? My husband Albert.

- What are you doing here? - Waiting for a friend.

I bet you're wondering if it's a boy or a girl.

You should come for dinner sometime. Right, Albert?

Of course.

Did my mother give you my number?

Yes, I think so.

You haven't worn out your finger dialing.

You didn't used to be afraid of the telephone.

Well, bye now.

So is it a boy or a girl after all?

She was a girl. My littleJulie.

She's no longer with me.

She was killed. Run over by a car.

Mother!

I didn't want another child after that.

I couldn't bear it. I tried to return to my law studies.

But my husband and I couldn't go on, and we separated.

It's been five years now, and I don't know what you'll think,

but I've decided to defend a guy in Draguignan.

He beat his three-year-old son to death.

I may be crazy, but I've decided to defend him.

Listen, I can't wait any longer for Sabine.

Why should I meddle in Antoine's life

when my own is so mixed up?

Professional habit, I suppose.

I love a man. He owns a bookstore.

He's Sabine's brother, and I love him!

I must tell him before it's too late.

I've wasted too much time already. Wait!

There's a picture of Sabine in this envelope.

Don't ask me to explain, but if Antoine gets this back,

this could all have a happy ending.

Emmanuel, a woman dropped this off for your pal.

Thanks.

Antoine, wake up. It's 7:00.

There's a letter for you.

- Thanks. - Don't mention it.

I made love with you right away

because I wanted it just as much as you.

But then, when I asked you where we stood,

you couldn't answer.

So I thought I'd better protect myself.

I don't know much about life,

but it seems two people who love each other should share everything.

Neither should feel left out of what's going on with the other,

or else I just don't understand love.

I knew what I wanted from you,

but when I saw you couldn't decide

between life with me and life without me,

I knew I'd better be careful.

I tried to control my feelings, to love you less,

but it didn't work.

And since I hate to suffer, I decided we'd never see each other again.

I let you pick me up, and it was very nice.

I don't regret it.

But pick-up artists are a dime a dozen around here.

I can't let you say that.

I'm not a pick-up artist. - Yes, you are.

I can spot them before they even set foot in the door,

just from the way they stare at me through the window.

I came here specifically looking for you.

I'd already known you for two weeks without your realizing it.

Impossible.

- You don't believe me? - Of course not.

Then listen carefully.

One day last year I went into a caf� to make a call.

I walked downstairs

and found a guy already in the booth having an animated discussion.

He was shouting

and was clearly very angry.

I couldn't help overhearing his words.

I realized he was insulting some woman and breaking up with her.

Then, at a certain point,

bursting with rage,

the guy pulls a picture out of his jacket pocket.

Cradling the phone on his shoulder,

he tears up the picture.

Right before my eyes, he tears it up

and throws the pieces furiously to the ground.

Then he hangs up the phone and stomps out.

I slip into the booth.

I don't know why- I couldn't stop myself-

I picked up the pieces one by one

and put them in my pocket.

Once I got home, I sat down

and put them back together with adhesive tape.

And there, as if by magic,

the puzzle took shape,

and a woman's face emerged.

I fell madly in love!

In desperation I rushed to find the photographer

whose name was on the back of the picture.

But he had sold his shop, and no one knew his new address.

I set out to search all Paris for him.

I questioned tons of people, visited dozens ofbuildings,

and knocked on strangers'doors, almost getting slugged in the process.

I flew down stairs four at a time,

and tailed people in the street.

But I finally picked up the young woman's track

and learned her name.

I couldn't get her address, but I found out where she worked.

And during that whole time,

that woman's picture, whom I already loved, never left me.

Want to see it?

I remember now.

You asked for a record that didn't exist.

I concealed my feelings for you. I even made you laugh.

Then you came back and made me fall in love with you.

You didn't let on at all. I even thought,

"He thinks of me as a pal. He hasn't even noticed I'm a woman."

While all the time my heart was racing.

You sure fooled me. If only I had known -

Why did you never say anything before today?

Because all my life I've hidden my feelings,

never saying anything directly.

You don't trust people.

But I trust you, Sabine. Believe me.

But we can't be certain it will last.

- Why not? - But we can pretend it will.

Right! Let's pretend and see what happens.

Do you have the latest record by Alain Souchon?

You're in luck. It just came in.

It's called Love on the Run.

- Could we hear it? - Certainly. In the booth over here.