All language subtitles for In.The.French.Style.1963.1080p.BluRay.x265-RARBG

Christina: Damn!

Mademoiselle.

Merci.

I said you were right
not to want to go in.

It isn't worth the trouble.

The pictures are awful
and the people are worse.

If it wasn't my duty,
I would never come to one of these things.

Your duty? Are you a critic?

No, I am the brother of the artist.

Do you want to meet him?

He is not worth meeting,
though, I assure you.

I'll take your word for it.

Are you really interested in paintings?

In a way.

Would you like to see
a beautiful painting?

Not like these, these
neurotic monkey-scratches.

Yes, if it's not too far.

Ten minutes from here.

Come. I have transportation.

What do you think?

I hate it. What?

Why?

Because I am a painter myself.

And I know I'll never be able to
paint anything as good.

Excellent.

In that case, I will take you to dinner.

Do you always drink Coca-Cola
with your dinner?

No, not always.

Why? Does it displease you?

Well, it sort of reminds me of Chicago.

You do not wish
to be reminded of Chicago?

Not at the moment.

Do you always drink wine
with your dinner?

Well, since I came to France.

Alcohol is the curse of France.

Wine has reduced this country
to a second-rate power.

Don't let me embarrass you.

Drink if you wish.

Well, I don't want to be reduced to
a second-rate power.

Now you're making fun of me.

Only a little.

How long have you been in Paris?

Six months.

How much longer do you intend to stay?

Another six months.

Then the money runs out.

Toolong.

Why?

I've been studying you
all through dinner and...

Couldn't we speak French?

Every time I say two words in French

to anybody in this country,

they break immediately into English.

I'll never learn the language this way.

If you wish.

I'm sorry. You go too fast.

I said, I have been studying you
all through dinner,

and I have some good advice to offer you.

What's that?

Leave Paris, leave France
as soon as possible.

Well, that isn't very hospitable,
I must say.

Let me warn you.

It is difficult enough to
be a French girl in Paris.

To be an American girl is impossible.

Paris is a city with a hard heart.

It is a factory for the production
of egotists and cynics.

If I had any power over you,
I would send you away tomorrow.

What about you? You're here.

A man is different.

Even so, when I'm finished with my
studies, I'm getting out as soon as I can.

Where are you going to go?

Mmm, in Africa, Asia, South America.

I am going to be an engineer.

I intend to build
dams and Bridges and roads

in the jungle, in the desert,

in the wildest mountains,

away from all this chi-chi,
all this gossip,

all this money-making
and playing politics.

Have I convinced you?

Are you taking the first plane
tomorrow morning?

No.

That means I can take you
to dinner tomorrow night.

I'm afraid I can't ask you in.

Our landlady doesn't
allow us to bring men into the apartment.

How wise she is!

I now say goodnight.

Well, goodnight.

Till tomorrow.

But tell your brother I hope
his show's a great success.

You're wrong to encourage him.

May I ask you a question?

Yes. What?

How old are you?

Nineteen.

I trust you do not
object to going out with older men.

Why?

Because I'm 21.

Please don't get killed on the way home.

I shall drive like an old lady
with rheumatism.

I promise you.

Night.

Why did you do that?

Because it's Sunday.

Don't ever do anything like that again.

Why not?

Because it's too much
the way anglo-saxons

believe French people behave in public.

Come on, let's get out of here.

Hey, you,

I don't like the look
of the back of your neck.

What's the matter with it?

It's frowning.

That's better.

Will people be able to see that

I was in love while the picture
was being painted?

If you keep on talking,
all they'll be able to see

is that I never got the mouth right.

How does my face look when I say,
“I love you”?

Or maybe it looks better in French.

Je I'a/me.

Does that help?

Were you ever in love?

Of course, that's a lie.

But it's nice of you to say so.

Guy, why don't you ever introduce me
to any of your friends?

Because they are vastly boring.

At least your family.

Equally vastly boring.

Are you making me look intelligent
and uncompromising?

Is that how you want to look?

Yes.

I'll do my best.

Tell me something. What?

Are you surprised that in all the three
months I've known you,

I have never tried...

I have never tried to seduce you?

I believe in love and fidelity.

I am past all that cheap
adolescent promiscuity.

I hope you are, too.

Of course.

Don't move.

When we are ready for each other,
we will know it.

Shh!

She's American.
She understands every word.

Good. I want all america to know.

When we are ready for each other,
we will know it.

Guy, pleasel shhl

I'm sorry if I am disturbing you,
mademoiselle.

Not at all.

It's quite nice, if I may say so.

Thank you.

Mm-hmm.

Mademoiselle James.

I have the name right? Yes.

Let me introduce myself.

I am that worst of all living creatures,

a landlord.

I am also the baron edouard de chaziere.

For my sins, I own this building.

It has been in my family for 160 years.

My advisers tell me
that it is on the point of collapse

and that I should tear it down and erect

a large ugly apartment house in its place.

That'd be too bad.

After seeing it tonight,

I'm inclined to agree with you.

Miss James,

I hope you won't think
that a simple landlord

is being presumptuous in telling you

that he likes your paintings very much.

Not at all.

In a small way, I am
something of a collector.

I have a friend who runs a gallery

and sometimes advises me.

Monsieur patrini, of the maeght gallery.

I know the gallery.

Would it be too much
to ask if I could take

two or three of your
canvasses to show him?

I guess not.

Thank you.

Don't move, guy.

Forgive me for having taken up so much
of your precious time.

Goodnight, mademoiselle.

I can't stand people like that.

Fancylfancyl

he took your three worst paintings.

I think he took the three best ones.

Christina: Renoir.

Matisse.

Picasso.

James.

You haven't said a word for 15 minutes.

Is anything the matter?

I have decided.

The time is ripe.

We have reached the inevitable moment.

What are you talking about?

I speak in an adult manner.

Tonight we become lovers.

I have borrowed the key of the apartment
of a friend of mine.

He has gone to visit his family
in tours for the night.

It is just around the corner.

Please, don't say any more.

Why? Have I shocked you?

But you must have known that finally,
one day, we would...

Well, yes.

But I don't know, it's so abrupt.

Abrupt?

But I have seen you nearly every day
for three months now.

What are you accustomed to?

I'm not accustomed to anything.

You know that.

Please, let's not talk about it anymore.

Not tonight.

But I have the apartment for tonight.

But I have the apartment for tonight.

My friend may not go to
tours for another year.

Don't look like that.

Maybe some other time.

I warn you,

next time it will have to be you who
will make the advances.

I will make the advances.

Finally! Guy.

I'm freezing to death out here.
Come on, let's go some place warm.

Guy, I've got some good news for you.

The baron bought two of my paintings.

Did he? Congratulations.

That's a pretty icy congratulation.

Is it? Mademoiselle, je vous fe'licit'e.

Do you prefer that?

No, I don't.

Look, guy, I have to tell you something.

I can't go to the
theater with you tonight.

What do you mean?

You've been saying you wanted to see
this play for a month.

I have the tickets. They cost 3200 francs.

I know. I'm sorry, I just can't go.

Why not?

Well, the baron left word
with Mr. Patrini in there.

He wants to talk to me about my paintings.

What's that got to do with our
going to the theater tonight?

He wants to talk to me at dinner.

Where? At his house.

It's out near versailles.

And he wants to talk about your paintings?

Do you really believe that?

Yes, I do.

If you believe that,
you'll believe anything.

Even in Chicago, I wouldn't believe it.

You're being very nasty.

I'm looking the facts in the face.

The facts?
I'll tell you what the facts are.

You're jealous.

Huh! Don't “huh” Mel

you don't want me to be a success.

You want to hide me in a corner,

so you don't have to worry
about any competition.

Competition! If the baron wants you,

he can have you. With my blessing.

Oh, boy,
if that isn't a frenchman for you.

Everything's reduced immediately to sex.

Let me tell you something.

I didn't come to Paris for that.

There's plenty of that in Chicago.

I came here to be a painter.

If I make it, I'm going to have paintings
in every damn museum in the world.

And if going to one dinner one night
in versailles helps,

than I'll go to that dinner in versailles.

And if that means losing 3200 francs
in theater tickets,

send me the bill
and you'll get a check in the morning.

Here's what I think of your 3200 francs.

Now, let me tell you what I think of you.

Typical American woman!

Success, success, that's all you care for.

Trample everything else underfoot, love,
promises, friendship, everything.

Well, this is France, not america.

Women don't run this country.

Women know how to be women here,
not imitation men.

I could slap youl

let me warn you.
In France, men slap back.

That's enough for me.
No, it isn't!

I have some other things to say.

Let go off me!

The first time I went out with you,
I told you to leave Paris.

It was too tough for you.

I now take that back.
You are too tough for Paris.

Will you let me go?
I'll predict your future.

You'll turn out like all the others.

I see them every day,
flitting from man to man.

Going to all the parties,
bait for every skirt chaser in Paris.

Three divorces by the time you're 30.

And in between,
nice cozy weekends with married men

in every charming little hotel between
here and monte Carlo.

Ah!

If you go out to versailles tonight,
you'll never see me again.

Good.

I can't think of anything
that would please me more.

Bonsoir.

Charming!

Charming!

I am delighted you could come.

I hope the invitation
wasn't too short a notice.

Well, if I'd known
it was going to be a party,

I certainly would have changed my clothes.

Nonsense.
You're absolutely perfect as you are.

And now,
let me introduce you to my other guests.

Christina: Snobsl snobsl

not' one of you has even looked
a! Me in 20 minutes.

Just because you're speaking French,

you think you're brilliant.

I know what you're saying.

It isn't so damned brilliant.

You.

You just said, ”this season has been

”disastrous for shooting, my dear.

”The rainy summer, you know?”

What's so gloriously witty about that?

You just said,

'i4nd I told the general
it was time to take

”a strong stand on Algeria. ” hmml

that's not going to win the nobel prize

for political wisdom this year,
ill tell you that.

And you, my host,

lknow what you're after.

And you're not going to get it.

I'm terribly sorry.

I have a very important
telephone call to make.

Henry will show you
where the telephone is.

Please.

Hello, guy.

I'm a bitch. Forgive me.

Guy: Never mind that. Where are you?

Out near versailles. Le manoir de jouy

I wanted to see you and tell you...

Don't move. Ill be there in 20 minutes.

I love you.

I love you.

Did you say something?

Where to?

Do you still have the key
to your friend's apartment?

The one who went to tours.

Are you drunk?

Not anymore.

Have you got the key?

No. He came back from tours last night.

What are we going to do?

We could go to a hotel, couldn't we?

What hotel?

I don't know. Any hotel that'll let us in.

Are you sure you know what you're doing?

Of course.

Didn't I tell you I'd make the advances?

I'm now making the advances.

American, you are magnificent.

I don't like the look of it.

Would you mind going a little farther?

Whatever you say. It's your town.

I have heard about this place
from a friend of mine.

It's very, uh, welcoming, he said.

It looks very nice.

If you will stay here
and guard the machine,

I will go in and make the arrangements.

It's freezing in here.

Forgive me.

I forgot to take any money with me

and all I had in my pocket was 700 francs.

I had to choose a modest hotel.

That's all right. I don't mind.

After all, it's only a place.

There is no sense in being sentimental
about places, is there?

No. That's one thing
I'm never sentimental about, places.

Holidays, well, that's different.

Christmas, the fourth of July,

wedding anniversaries.

Do you have any money on you?

Some. 3,000 francs.

May I borrow it?

Sure.

What for?

I'll be right back.

I thought”

well, it cost 2,000 francs.

You get a thousand back.

Thanks.

I thought for an occasion like this...

That was very thoughtful of you.

I will repay the 2,000 francs
no later than

fnday.

This damn corkl

my hands are so cold,
I don't seem to be able to...

Let me try.

If I couldn't do it,
how do you expect that you could?

Never hurts to try.

Oh!

Oh, I'm sorry. Oh.

Your clothes. It's nothing.

It's nothing.

To a gay and lyrical evening.

“Gay and lyrical.”
what does that mean?

Well, singing.

I yrique, I suppose.

Ah, lyrique.

I see.

Not bad, huh?

At least it's warm.

Well...

I mean, we don't have to drink
the whole bottle right now.

No, of course not.

I suppose you ought to undress.

You first.

My dear, Christina, everybody knows
that in a situation like this,

the girl always undresses first.

Not this girl.

Whatever you're going to do,
you'd better do it fast.

Your lips are blue with cold.

Very well, I will give
in to you, this once.

But you must promise not to look.

I have no desire to look.

Go to the window
and keep your back turned.

All right, you can look now.

This bed is like an ice-box.

Turn your head to the wall.

The light is still on.

You forgot to turn it off.

I know.

Well, turn it off.

I'm not budging from this bed.

You were the last one up.

I don't care.

That is absolutely unfair.

Unfair or not, I'm staying right here.

But you're on the outside.
I'd have to climb over you.

Stay where you are.

I won't move.

Turn your head to the wall.

This time I did not shut my eyes.

You're exquisite.

I cannot bear it.

What's the matter?

Your hand is like ice.

You're sorry now you came here
with me, aren't you?

I don't know.

Tell the truth.

It's awful.

I do no blame you for pulling away.

It is not the way it should be at all.

I'm too clumsy, too stupid!

I do not know anything.

It serves me right.

I've been lying to you for three months.

Lying? What do you mean?

I've been playing a role.

I have no experience.

I am not studying to be an engineer.

I am still in the lycée.

That's the same as high school
in america.

I am not 21 years old.

I am only 16.

Why did you do that?

Because you wouldn't have looked
at me othennise.

Is that not true?

Yes, it's true.

If only it hadn't been so cold!

If only I'd had more than 700 francs.

You would never have known.

Well, I know now.

No wonder you never introduced me
to any of your friends.

No wonder you only drink Coca-Cola.

How could I have been so inaccurate?

I suppose I ought to take you home.

I suppose so.

Lie down.

Christina: The years
pass quickly in Paris.

There's so much to do, so much to see,

so many br/ght young men.

Next year is always the year
you're going to go home.

If you don't sell many of your paintings,

and if your family finally
stops sending you money,

it's not terribly serious.

You can always do a little modeling

to tide you over the lean periods.

And III from time to time

you remember a cold n/ght in winter
in a bleak hotel room,

and a boy who
slept trustfully in your arms,

you can smile a little
to yourself and think,

”one of these days, lmust call him up
and see how he's doing”.

In the meantime, there's so much to do.

So many people to greet,
so many people to say goodbye to.

God, I wish I didn't have to go!

Airport emotion.

People are always crazy about me
when they're saying goodbye.

It's only for three weeks.

Yeah, yeah. Only for three weeks.

Send me a wire and I'll come and
meet you when you're coming back.

Chris, this is a...
This is a little hard to say.

I don't want you to meet me
when I come back.

Whatever you say, Billy boy.

There's this Greek girl
I met in mykonos last summer.

I told you about her.

You don't have to explain anything.

No, I want to explain.

She's meeting me in London.

I don't know. Last summer,

I thought I was in love with her
and I said if she was ever up this way...

I understand.

She's a marvelous girl
and she's beautiful and...

Some Greeks have all the luck.

We haven't kidded each other,
have we, you and I?

I just don't want to
start kidding you now.

The sentiment does you credit, Billy boy.

Fiends?

Of course.

Always?

Always.

Woman on pa:
Departure to London.

Air France, flight number 794.

Nobody better.

Woman: Boarding, gate number 51.

Christina: You're a citizen of Paris now.

And there's no other city in the world
you'd rather be a citizen of

this year, you dance.

And next year is always
the year to go home.

Christina. Guy.

It's been years.

I've meant to telephone you
dozens of times, but... well?

May I present to you my fiancee?

Miss Stephanie morell.
Miss Christina James.

Enchantee, mademoiselle.

How do you do?

She's English.
You don't have to speak French.

Still the same.

I still can't get anyone in this country
to speak French to me.

When's the happy day?

Not for a long time.

When I get through with this.

Forgive me. I'm late.

I do hope you'll invite me to your wedding.

Goodbye.

I know you'll be very happy.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Christina! How are you?

Christina! Oh.

Everybody else in the place seems to have
kissed you. I might as well, too.

Doesn't mean anything.

Just the French style of saying hello.

Hello,

in the French style.

Sorry to be late.

Well, there's a scale I have for girls.

There are girls who are worth
waiting 10 minutes for, and no more.

There are half-hour girls.

And you...

Well, you I would say were
the five-year type girl.

Hang around, brother,
I like talk like that.

I'm afraid I can't hang
around much longer.

I have to work tonight.

Poor slave.

Poor slave.

Never get mixed up
with a newspaper man.

That's what I tell all the girls.

What do they tell you?

A wide variety of things.

I'm invited to a gene'rale tomorrow
night, at the odéon.

Want to come?

I'm going to be in Tripoli tomorrow night.

One nice thing about you,

you never hang around long enough
for a girl to get tired of you.

It's my chief attraction.

Think you ought to drink
when you have to work?

I'm writing a piece on how France
is heading to its doom.

Politically, culturally,
militarily, philosophically.

Doom comes easier on whiskey.

What are you up to in Tripoli?

I have to interview two or three
very important arabs.

Will you be gone long?
You never know with very important arabs.

Maybe a week or so.

Will you be lonely?

Nothing like a nice, honest answer
to put a man in his place.

Now don't be touchy.

It's just that this is a good week
for you to go, if you have to go.

Why?

My father's coming in from Chicago.

I got a wire this morning.

And it'll be much less complicated

if you're safely stashed
away in the desert.

Why, is he stuffy?

I don't know.

I haven't seen him in four years.

Think he'd disapprove of me?

I would if I were a father, wouldn't you?

Probably.

What are you going to do with him?

Try to impress him with how
all around marvelous I am.

Well, that shouldn't be so hard.

Fathers are different from fellows.

They're apt to be impressed
by different things.

Hey, hello, Chris.

I was hoping I'd see you here tonight.

I'd like you to meet my friend.

Clio andropoulos, this
is Christina James. Hello.

How do you do? Bill's told
me so much about you. Has he?

This is Walter beddoes,
miss andropoulos.

Hello. Hello.

Mr. Norton. Hello.

How do you do?

Yeah, I was going to call you, Chris. I'm
giving a brawl at my place on Thursday.

Look, I hope you can make it.
Uh, you, too, mister...

Beddoes. Beddoes.

I hope you can come.

I'm sorry. I shall be out of town.

Oh, well, that's a shame.

You can make it, though, Chris, can't you?

My father's coming in.
I have to chaperone him.

Oh, come on. Bring him along.

15 minutes with the kids, he'll never want
to go back to Chicago. The address is...

I know the address.

If my father's not too tired.

All right. Well, I'll be looking for you.
Seven o'clock till dawn, right?

Come on, clio.
There's a table opening up.

Well, goodbye.
It's nice to have met you.

Goodbye. Christina: Bye.

Walter: Bye.

Pretty girl.

Mm-hmm.

Bright looking fellow.

Mm-hmm.

One of yours?

Once upon a time.

Want to hear about it?

She reminds me of someone.

Who?

My ex-wife.

Must have been hard giving her up.

It wasn't easy.

People like me, wandering around all over

the world all the time,
shouldn't get married.

Never works.

Wives have a tendency to take to drink,
or other men,

if you leave them
alone for two or three months at a time.

Which did your wife do?

Both.

Were you happy to get rid of her?

Could you have held her?

I think so, if I'd pleaded a little.

But you didn't plead?

I don't believe in pleading
for anything. Do you?

I didn't think so.

You're a gentleman.

Is that a good thing to be?

The only thing.

French songs are sad, aren't they?

They're going away songs.

Are you saying that I ought to leave now?

Go ahead, newspaperman.

The doom of France awaits you.

Mustn't disappoint your readers.

What are you going to do?

I'm going to sit here
and listen to the piano

playing going away, going away.

I'm going to be nice to Greeks.

Night.

Happy Tripoli.

Have a couple of doomful whiskies
on a departed friend.

I down by the riverside

I down by the riverside

I down by the riverside

f / met my little
bnght-eyed doll

I down by the riverside

I way down by the riverside /

Okay?

All right, that's fine.
Now just stay just like that. That's fine.

Oh, come on, Jane, put up the gun.

That's right. All right.

Nicole, a little to the left.

Finel now hold it.

Bill.

Chris, hellol

oh, welcome aboard, mister James.
How do you like Paris?

Well, I've only been here three hours.

So far, it looks rather lively.

Oh, you'll love it.
It's like this every night.

Hey, help yourself to some grub,
if the barbarians have left any.

We just had dinner.

Well, have a drink. Where's your glasses?
No glasses! Hold on.

Those kids have been drinking
too much, anyway. Here.

Congratulations on your daughter, sir.

She's the smashingest girl in Paris.

And that's a consensus of opinion,
male and female alike.

Cheers. I pressed this
stuff in avignon in 1923 with my own feet.

What's going on here?

It's a gag.

Someone took a count and found we had
the prettiest girls in Paris here tonight.

So we're going to do
the fashion photograph

to end all fashion photographs.

Show everything in the same picture.

Then by the time the party's over tonight,

we're going to have the debutante
and the sub-debutante,

the happy housewife,
the femme fatal, the outdoor girl,

the indoor girl,
the kept girl, the unkept girl.

Hey, come on, Chris, you can be in this.

You can go up there and be the unkept
girl. I think that's still open.

What do I have to do?

Look sad, underprivileged,
self-righteous and glamorous.

I'll be with you in a minute.

All right. Well, don't leave,
mister James.

Do you want to get out of here?

Wild horses couldn't make me go.

Come on, Chris, come over!

Coming.

Go up here, right? Up you go.

Now, hold it, girls, come on, hold it.

I don't know.

Hey, look, put this on, Chris.

Try to show by the expression on your face
that you paid for it

with your own money and you're
proud of the fact, all right?

Good evening.

Oh. American.

I don't think I ever saw you before.

No, I don't believe you did.

I just arrived from
Chicago three hours ago.

I could use you.

What was that?

You do not happen to be
a male model, do you?

A male model for what, madame?

For fashion photographs.
I'm at I/ogue. Madame piguet.

Everybody calls me Bo-Bo.

You have an excellent face, you know?
Very good lines.

The trend nowadays
is for more mature men,

with character in their faces.

The pay is not bad.

Well, I'm afraid I'm only going to be
in Paris two or three days.

Actually, I'm a history professor.

What is a history professor
doing in a place like this?

Well, my daughter thought
I might enjoy it, as indeed I am.

Your daughter? Who is she?

Thatone.

Christina? Mm-hmm.

Well, she's a darling girl.

Not much as a model, though.

Oh? I'm sorry to hear that.

She's pretty enough, god knows.

But she's too sensible for the job.

I was disappointed when
she didn't marry last year.

Oh, was she supposed to marry last year?

Why? Didn't she tell you?

Well, perhaps she told her mother.

Whom was she supposed to marry?

That one there.

The count de velezey.

He was crazy about Christina.

But the family put their foot down.

Oh, why?

American girl, poor,

earning her own living, a mannequin,

seen just a little too
often in too many places.

And without meaning to offend,
no family that anyone ever heard of.

This is still France, monsieur,
no matter what it looks like.

Should we find a taxi to take us home?

If you're not tired,
I'd rather walk for a while.

I'm not tired.

I'm used to staying up
a lot later than this.

I suppose you are.

Are you scolding me?

Oh. Of course not.

The streets of Paris!

Ever since I was a young man,
I've dreamed of walking here,

arm in arm with a beautiful young woman.

It never occurred to me
that the first time I did it,

the beautiful young woman
would be my daughter.

I'm so glad to see you.

Are you?

That was quite a party.

Everyone there seemed
terribly fond of you.

Oh, I'm a good enough sort.

There was a young lady
who was kind enough

to point out a young man
she said you nearly married last year.

A count something.

Ah, Marc Antoine.

We played around with the idea
for a hot week or so.

For a few minutes,
I thought it'd be fun to be a countess

and have a chateau with 22 bedrooms.

In that place tonight, Christina,

how many of those men
there have been your lovers?

Do you want the truth,
or do you want to be comfortable?

If I'd wanted to be comfortable,
I wouldn't have flown 4,000 miles.

A couple.

Were you in love with them?

I thought so at the time.

But you don't think so now?

Why not?

Because I'm in love now
and I know the difference.

Was he there too?

No, he's in Tripoli this week.

Are you going to marry him?

I don't know.

Why not?

The subject hasn't come up.

The subject hasn't come up?

Don't you think we should take a taxi
back to the hotel now?

No. I don't want to go to the hotel yet.

I want you to take me to that studio
you wrote us about

and show me your paintings.

I want to see what you've been doing
for the past four years.

At this hour of the night?

Mm-hmm. At this hour of the night.

Darling, for 23 years,
the last thing I've thought about

before I dropped off to sleep was you.

About your health, your education,

the love I bore you,

your beauty, your hopes for the future.

I'm used to thinking about you
at this hour of the night.

All right.

Okay. The show is open to the public.

You can look now.

Why don't you go home,
or back to the party, if you want.

I don't want to go back to the party.

I'll wait here and show you the way home.

I'd like to look at them alone, Chris.

Here's the key.

Put out the light and lock up, please,
when you've finished.

See you at breakfast. Sleep well.

Goodnight, daddy.
Goodnight, darling.

Come in, daddy.

I wasn't sure you were awake.

I'm awake.

Well?

They're not good enough, are they?

The paintings.

Is that what you think?

I'm afraid so.

Well, that's what you think.

Has to be said, doesn't it?

If that's what you feel.

They've gotten worse,
instead of better, after the first year.

I don't know why, exactly.

Maybe the gift you had
was just part of being young.

And as you grew up,
it didn't grow with you.

There are many talents like that,
not only in painting.

The more training you've had,
the more technique you've acquired,

why, the more evident it's become
you weren't going to make it.

Maybe it's the life you lead.

That's it!

You go to one party
and you see a few people

who seem strange to you
and you find out

I'm not the simple, untouched girl
I was when I left home,

and you recoil in horror.

I'm not ashamed of anything I've done.

And if the paintings are no good,

it's not because
I've gone to parties or had lovers,

or almost gotten married.

I know what you're going to say next.

You're going to say that
I ought to leave Paris.

That I ought to come home
like a good little girl

and be a nice, demure, hypocritical

piece of merchandise
on the marriage market,

pretending I don't know
which end of a man is up.

Are you finished?

Yes, I'm finished.

Have you got a bottle of whiskey
around here? I could use a drink.

Cognac.

Cognac will do.

The middle door.

How about you?

Yes, please.

Water?

Yes.

First of all, let me tell you
that nothing I have seen or heard

since I arrived here has made me
recoil in horror, as you put it.

Not you, not your friends,

not anything you may or may not
have done with them.

And I'm not going to pretend,
just because I'm your father,

that I'm shocked that in two or three years
you've gone to bed with two or three men.

Remember,
I grew up in the years between the wars.

And if young people
now are any freer than we were then,

they must be very free, indeed.

Here's your drink.

As for your friends,

I found them lively and amusing.

And I'm sure for the most part
they're industrious

and useful members of society.

But they're not for you.

They belong here.

They're doing something here
and you're not.

The better they are,
the worse they are for you.

You're their victim,
even if each and every one of them

thinks he loves you
from the bottom of his heart.

Victim. What are they after,
my enormous fortune?

No. After your gaiety and beauty
and goodness of heart.

They recognize that you
don't really belong here.

That you're an emotional transient.

And they... they use you, frivolously,

for their spare hours.

I know what you're saying.

That I've wasted my years,
that I'm corrupted,

that I should have stayed home like everyone
else, and never even taken a chance.

No, no, no, Chris!
I'm not saying anything like that at all.

You haven't wasted your years here.
You're not corrupt.

I don't want you to
be like everybody else.

I'm proud of you for
having taken a chance.

These years have done you
a world of good.

But now it's time to come home.

A city like Paris is a form of education,

one of the best of educations.

But it's important to
know when to quit school,

to know when the school
has nothing more to give you,

when it's a kind of a retreat,
an escape.

What if I want to escape?

Some people can.

People without any value.

I think you're valuable. Most valuable.

You can't escape.

Maybe not, but I'm going to give it a try.

A big fat try.

Chris, darling, look ahead.

What is your life going to be like here
10 years from now?

Aren't you going to answer it?

Hello. Yes.

Yes.

Christina?

Walter?

What are you doing calling at this hour?

Well, I've been trying to get hold of you
all night. Where have you been?

Around, showing a visitor
the local dens of iniquity.

Man in Tripoli wants to know
if you're enjoying yourself.

Enormously.

“Enormously,” he says.

How was Africa?
How are all the very important arabs?

Well, that's what I was calling you about.

It went a lot faster than I'd hoped.

Now I want to tuck in
somewhere quiet and do the pieces.

I thought I'd go to Saint-Paul-de-vence,
you know, that little hotel there,

and work in the sunshine for a week or so.

ID love it if you could meet me there.

I'm going to be there tomorrow n/ght.

Tomorrow night?

I'll be there.
I'll take the afternoon plane to nice.

Goodnight, my love.

Do you know what you're doing?

I'm doing the only
thing that's possible for me to do.

Do you want me to see you off?

I don't think so.

Goodnight, darling.

Goodnight, father.

Walter: Happy?

Christina: Of course.

It's impossible.

What's impossible?

Not to touch.

Touch?

Are you worried?

About what?

About the wind.

What's the matter with the wind?

There isn't any. We're becalmed.

Miles from land, without food or drink.

Not a bottle of champagne
or an ounce of caviar on board.

And no rescue in sight.

Out of reach of telephones or radar

or newspapers or friend or foe.

Wonderful!

The only thing left is prayer.

Shall we pray, sister? Mm-hmm.

Well, lead the prayer, sister.

Please let the wind never come up.

Please keep us forever UN-rescued,

out of reach of radar

or newspapers or telephone

or friend or foe.

Let not the north wind blow,
nor the south wind.

Let the crew of this
vessel never reach land.

Let this calm afternoon never end.

Walter: Amen.

You know what I hate?

What? Typewriters.

You know the first lesson I was taught
when I became a newspaperman?

What's that?

Never try to write a story with somebody
called Christina James in the same room.

They're teaching
a different system these days.

They certainly are.

Merci

I have to go to Cairo tomorrow.

After that, Tehran, Beirut, Istanbul,

Jerusalem and back to Cairo.

Burn a candle for me in Jerusalem
when you get there.

I could use a drink.

Maybe it was lucky that telegram
came when it did.

Lucky? Why?

I think one more day with you,
the way we had it,

and I'd never have been able to leave.

Would that have been bad?

Ever since the first
day I started working,

I've gone every place I was sent,
every place I thought I should go,

without hesitation, without regret,
for as long as was necessary.

I never let anything stand in my way.

Not fear, or weariness, or possessions,

or love.

It's my life.

It's what I live by.

It's my value.

If ichanged,
I'd be a different man, a worse man.

Finally, I'd dislike myself.

Finally, you'd dislike me.

Would I?

Maybe.

Another thing. What?

I won't pretend I live like a monk
when I go on trips like this.

I have been known to go out with various ladies
from time to time in various parts of the world.

You didn't have to tell me that.

Why not?

Because I knew it.

Because everybody knows it.

Because everybody's told me.

I see. Okay, subject closed.

I won't be gone too long.
Two months, maybe three.

Give me a ring when you come back.

First minute.

Be happy, baby. Have fun.
Go to all the parties.

That's me, baby. That's you.

F ding dong merrily on h/gh

f in heaven
the bells are ringing

f ding dong verily the sky
is full of angels singing

Bill, you idiot. Come in,
before the management calls the police.

I hosanna in excelsis /

greetings of the season
from the American community in Paris,

from the English community in Paris,
from the Italian community in Paris,

from the parisian community in Paris.

Enough, I get the idea.

Hello.

Pals worry, you know, when a girl
suddenly drops out of circulation.

Do they? I'm sorry.

What's this not answering
the telephone bit?

I didn't want to talk to anyone.

Why not?

Private reasons.

I've been thinking out my life.

A girl ought to think out her life
once every 23 years, don't you agree?

Couldn't a chum help?

Not this time.

Okay. The hermit season
is officially over.

From now on, you're going to be permitted
to be alone in this room

for one reason only, and that's sleep.

What's all this?

I'm arranging your schedule
for the next two months.

Dinner at the anglo-American press club
to meet the new ambassador.

Tickets for the bolshoi ballet. Tickets
for the opening of the new ionesco play.

Tickets for the fight next Monday night.

There's a Hungarian middleweight
there who hits like a mule.

Invitation to dinner at the home
of the baroness de rothschild.

A contract for five days'
modeling for Elle.

Invitation to lunch
at the British embassy.

A piano recital by Arthur rubinstein.

Opening of the new brigitte bardot flick,

preview of the spring collection.

I see what you mean.

Self-pity is now unfashionable.

Melancholy is strictly verboten

there are 10,000 things to do in Paris, and
you're gonna do every one of them. Understood?

Understood.

And the first thing you're gonna do is get the hell
out of this room and come and have dinner with me.

Tell me where you'll be and
I'll try to join... nothing doingl

you're coming with me right now!

I have to change and put on a face.

Dress tomorrow, make up your face on
new year's day. Come on, out you go.

Out I go, Billy boy.

Come on! Out, out, out, out, out!

Oui

Still the same.

You still answer the phone
as though expecting each call

to be an invitation to a party.

Who's this?

The voice of Egypt.

Walter!

When did you get in?

This minute.

I'm at the airport.
Where are we gonna meet for lunch?

Walter, I'm in despair.
You have a date?

Yes. When are you
going to learn to cable?

That's okay we'll make it later.

How about a drink this afternoon?

Well, we could start with that.
Five o'clock?

Make it 5:30.
Where are you going to be?

Up around I'etoile.

Alexander's? Good.

Will you be on time, for once?

Be more polite the first day
a man comes into town.

What did you say, ma 'am?

All the kids
are speaking French this year.

Isn't it nice to have you back in town.

Welcome.

In the French style.

Well, now, here's the man again.

The spirit of Paris. American
division.

What'll it be to drink? Garcon?

Tea, please.

Tea? Anything wrong?

No, I just want tea.

That's a hell of a drink
to welcome a traveler home with.

With lemon, please.

How was Egypt?

Was I in Egypt?

That's what it said in the papers.

Oh, yeah.

A new world struggling to be born.

Too late for feudalism,
too early for democracy.

Fancy talk for your column.

I mean, over a drink. How
was Egypt? Oh, sunny and sad.

After two weeks in Cairo,
you feel sorry for everybody.

How's Paris?

Too late for democracy,
too early for feudalism.

I mean, over a kiss, how's Paris?

The same, almost the same.

Your hair, what happened?

You noticed.

Where are the blondes
of yesteryear?

I decided to go natural.
People say it makes me look younger.

Oh, they're absolutely right.

You now look exactly 11.

To those who return.

I never used to accept toasts in tea.

You're a finicky, liquor loving man.

Now, the evening.

I thought we might skip our dear friends and
go to that place in the markets for dinner,

because I'm dying for a steak.
And after that, I...

What's the matter?
Can't we have dinner tonight?

It's not that, exactly.

I have a date.

Cancel him.

I can't, really.

He's coming to pick me up here
any minute now.

Oh, that makes it different, doesn't it?

Well, can't we shake him?

No, we can't shake him.

Oh, the man doesn't live
who can't be shaken.

“Old friend,” you say, “just arrived from
the horrors of the desert.

“Just escaped dysentery and religious wars
by the skin of his teeth.

“Needs soothing and tender attention
for his shattered nerves,” etcetera.

Sorry, can't be done.

Why not?

Are you pleading?

Maybe I am.

I thought you never pleaded.

And neither did I,
because we're both gentlemen.

Didn't we agree on that?

Forget what we agreed on.

Why can't we shake him?

Because I don't want to.

The wind's in that direction.

Variably in that direction.

We could all have dinner together,
the three of us.

He's a very nice man. You'd like him.

I never like any man
the first night I'm in Paris.

Three months is a long time, isn't it,

in Paris?

It isn't a long time,
in Paris or anywhere else.

Man: Hello, Christina.

I found the place all right.

Jack, this is Walter beddoes.

John haislip. Doctor haislip.

How do you do?

Doctor? What kind of doctor?

He's a surgeon.

He's very famous in medical circles.

That's right, Chris. Impress the public.

He's also in research.

Really?

He's an explorer, like Columbus.

Only instead of a ship, he uses a knife.

What have you discovered recently,
doctor?

That the human head
is approximately round

and contains some very
rich and happy continents.

What'll it be to drink, doctor?
Oh, a lemonade, please.

Jack doesn't drink.

He says it isn't fair for
people who make a living

out of cutting other people up.

But when I retire, I'm going to soak it up and
let my hands shake like leaves in the wind.

Did you have a good time in Egypt?

I swore a solemn oath I'd forget Egypt
for a month once I got back here.

I know how you feel.

The same way I feel
about the hospital sometimes.

Where is the hospital?
San Francisco.

Been here long?

Five weeks.

The changes that can
take place in five weeks!

Good lord.

One more week, and back to the hospital.

Did you do any sight-seeing?

Not as much as I'd like.

I had to visit a few hospitals here
and there and give some lectures.

I'd have loved to have gone
down south this time of the year,

place Christina keeps talking about.

Saint-Paul-de-vence.

You've been there,
haven't you, mister beddoes?

Yeah.

Christina told me.

Oh, thank you.

Oh, we'll make it the next trip.

You're planning to come back again soon?

In three years.

I figure I can get away for six weeks
in the summer every three years.

People don't get so
sick in the summertime.

Uh, excuse me. I have a couple
of telephone calls to make.

Downstairs and to the right.

The woman'll put the calls
through for you. She speaks English.

Christina doesn't trust my French.

I sincerely hope you'll be able
to join us for dinner, mister beddoes.

Well, I made a tentative promise I'd meet
some people, but I'll see what I can do.

Good.

That's why the hair's like that, isn't it?

That's why.

And the nail-Polish.

And the nail-Polish.

And the tea.

And the tea.

What did you tell him
about Saint-Paul-de-vence?

Everything.

Look up from the damn cup.

What do you mean by “everything”?

Everything.

Why?

Because I'm going to marry him
next week.

And I'm going back to
San Francisco with him.

And you'll come back
here three years from now

for six weeks in the summertime, because
people don't get so sick in the summertime.

Exactly. And that's okay?

Yes.

You say that too defiantly.

Don't be clever with me.
I'm through with all that.

Garcon?

Bring me another whiskey, please.

And you,
for the love of god, have a drink.

Another tea, please. Oui madame.

Will you answer some questions?

Yes.

Do I rate straight answers? Yes.

What's so great about him?

What can I be expected to say to that?

He's brilliant in his work.
He's saved a lot of lives.

He's pure and dedicated
and a good, gentle, responsible man.

And now what do you know?
What else?

And he loves me.

He loves me.

I saw, immoderately.

Immoderately.

And I love him.

Once upon a time,
you thought you loved me.

Once upon a time.

And with a difference.

If I stayed with you, in five years,
I'd either hate you or forget you.

Five years from now,
I won't be able to live without him.

That's five years from now.
Let's talk about now.

Would you like to get up from this table
and go off with me tonight?

Yes.

But you won't.

Why not?

Because I don't live for tonight anymore.

I don't believe you.

Let's talk about something else.

Where are you going on your next trip?

Kenya? Bonn? Tokyo?

Why not?

Because I'm tired of people like you.

I'm tired of all you spoiled,
hung-over, international darlings.

I'm tired of correspondents and
photographers and promising junior statesmen.

I'm tired of all the brilliant young men

who are constantly
going off to negotiate a treaty

or report a revolution or die in a war.

I'm tired of airports.

I'm tired of seeing people off.

I'm tired of not being allowed to cry
until the plane gets off the ground.

I'm tired of answering the telephone.

I'm tired of being so damn prompt.

I'm tired of sitting down to dinner next
to people I used to love

and being polite to their Greeks.

I'm tired of being
handed around the group.

I'm tired of being more in love with
people than they are with me.

Does that answer your question?

More or less.

When you left for Egypt, I decided.

I leaned against the railing and watched
them refueling all those monstrous planes.

And I dried the tears and I decided...

The next time, it was going to be someone
who would be shattered when I took off.

And you found him?

And I found him.

And I'm not going to shatter him.

Christina, look at me.

Christina.

Write me in San Francisco.

I'd better go.

God, I'm getting senile.

I'm tempted to cry in restaurants.

I don't want to wait for the check.

Tell your friend I'm sorry,
I can't make dinner.

And that I apologize for
leaving him with the bill.

That's all right. He'd be happy to pay.