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A toast.

To Paris!

Free once again!

May our city witness no more sorrow, harbor no more enemies...

And hear no more fucking German.

- Darling. - You started without me.

We knew if we popped champagne, you'd appear. And here you are!

You're stunning. And your hair, I love it.

Oh, the director asked me to grow it out.

It's perfect for the role.

I want you to meet my nephew André.

André.

Oh, my goodness. Mademoiselle.

Coco has spoken of how you survived the horrors of that German prison.

You're a hero.

Look, he's blushing.

And this is his brilliant friend from their Cambridge days, Oscar Davies.

My mum would die for an autograph.

Oscar and I have, uh, seen Hôtel du Nord

more times than I would like to admit.

You never said he was so handsome.

Mm-hmm. Hey, don't even think about it.

He's all mine.

Besides, don't you have a German boyfriend?

You dated a German?

Boys, never forget.

My heart is French, but my ass is international.

Enough chitchat.

André, be a dear and show me

how a real war hero commands the dance floor.

Get down.

I heard de Gaulle was going to celebrate with fireworks,

but this is a bit much.

Ignorant bullets fired by drunken men.

- You think we're safe? - Of course we are!

The rich and sexy always come out on top!

Come on, more champagne!

I see you, my children.

All of you are my children tonight.

In this house.

In this room.

We are left dreaming after the war.

After so much death and destruction.

Across the great river of darkness,

the great unknown awaits us all.

And in that void, spirits are calling out.

We have all seen this darkness.

It has consumed our lives.

Catherine!

Catherine!

It has consumed our loved ones.

Tonight we will excise this poison.

We will shine a light where there has been none for too, too long.

We will do this through the tarot.

But who would be the first?

Who would like to begin our journey across the river?

Me.

Please.

Coco, open the door.

- Who's that? - Arletty.

I didn't know where else to go. You have to help me.

There was a mob of people in front of my apartment calling my name.

- You have to hide me, Coco. - Was it a nightmare?

No! I was just on my way home,

and they had actual rocks and weapons, calling for my head to shave it.

Thank God I wasn't there. You have to hide me, Coco.

I'll make a call. We'll... We'll get you a room.

They can't possibly get you here.

You don't understand. They're shooting into apartments.

The FFIs are much worse than the Germans. They'll kill me.

No, they will do no such thing.

Nazis pressured me for years

to star in their crazy propaganda movies, and I refused.

I know you did.

I'm no traitor.

I fell in love.

I understand.

Now, Coco, the press are spreading accusations.

Smearing me as a horizontal collaborator.

Coco, people need to be reminded that I was in love.

Love.

I'm not a traitor for just being human.

Catherine!

Catherine!

Pardon.

I noticed you didn't have a reading, Monsieur...

- Uh-huh. - Monsieur...

Dior. Dior.

We are all deserving, Monsieur Dior.

Why do you feel differently?

I just, uh... I have, um, somewhere that I have to go. That's all.

Pardon.

Monsieur Dior.

May I ask you a question?

What do you desire most in this world?

What I desire most in this world, I cannot have.

We shall see.

Someone you love is trapped.

I see a child with you.

Do you have a child?

No.

You're holding a child.

An infant.

I don't have a child.

I must go.

If you want to finish another time...

you can find me here.

A pleasant good morning to you.

Oh, I'm afraid it's rather early for mademoiselle.

She's still, uh, taking her breakfast.

This can't be true.

I thought Arletty was joking about her German lover.

Don't believe a word of what's written.

How could she be so stupid? She's a public figure.

We can't trust anyone.

- Yes. - Baron Vaufreland being arrested.

I'm still completely in... in shock at that.

Oh, quite... quite clear.

I never guessed how involved he was with the Nazis.

But I must insist that you wait...

Hello?

Mademoiselle, uh, some men are coming.

Hmm. I've yet to finish eating,

and I'd like to have a noisette as well.

But they're officers from the French Forces of the Interior.

They can wait.

- Stop! - Get out of the way!

Mademoiselle Chanel,

you are under arrest on suspicion of collaboration with the Nazis.

That's a lie.

I'd advise you to speak with... ... General Pierre Reverdy.

He can't possibly have authorized this intrusion.

The French Forces of the Interior are not under his command.

We serve Charles de Gaulle.

Do not make a scene.

What scene would I make?

Don't touch her!

Okay. Okay.

Darling, no need for theatrics.

Have a seat. I won't be long. Don't worry.

The car is waiting.

Vive la France ! Vive la France !

Traitors!

Get them!

Shame on you!

What in heaven's name is going on out there?

Hey, look. There's another one!

- Help me! Help! - Come here.

Move, move!

This is what you get for consorting with the enemy.

- Oh, my God. - Shame on you! Shame on you!

They are all women.

- Sleeping with the enemy. - That's what you get!

- Traitor! - Oh, my God.

Justice for the collaborators.

Christian, may I come in?

I have something to show you that's sure to elevate your spirits

and bring a smile to your face.

Lucien, I'm... I'm really in-in the...

Because of the high esteem in which I hold you

and the great respect that I have for you and for your talent,

I want you to be the very first to see this.

And would you join me at the Couture Council?

We have a bit of convincing to do.

Okay. It's a joke.

No, it's not a joke.

It is the future of French fashion.

Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention,

I would like to thank you all for coming here on short notice

and agreeing to hear my proposal.

Each of us will design a dress in miniature

which will adorn these mannequins in the place of the actual models.

You want us to design dresses for dolls?

I know you're all saying to yourselves, "Is this absolute madness?"

Since we all know the Nazis destroyed every inch of fabric,

burning down every warehouse they could find,

we don't have enough materials for each of us

to produce our individual collections.

At present, there isn't enough fabric in the whole of France

to ensure the survival of a single couture house.

These miniature forms require less fabric,

less accoutrement, less expense, less everything.

I have booked the main exhibition hall at Le Louvre.

Sets will be built. Street scenes, salons.

But we only have two weeks to bring it to life.

If we can work together and do one show,

we may give ourselves a chance to survive.

Lucien, people will never go to the Louvre

to see some, uh, silly dolls.

But they won't just be seeing silly dolls.

They will be seeing themselves,

Paris returning to life, people walking down the Champs-Élysées.

An exhibition of hope.

It is possible.

Vive la France!

We are desperate for a solution.

This might help us continue working.

Cocteau and Bérard have graciously agreed to design the sets for us.

In exchange for a rare bottle of Armagnac.

It's utterly bizarre, but since when isn't bizarre glorious?

What about including Mademoiselle Chanel?

Never.

No, no. Listen. She hasn't designed for so long.

If she makes something, more people will come.

If she's in, I'm out.

She will not be invited.

This opportunity is for members only, and she is not one of us.

Why don't you discuss it amongst yourselves briefly,

and then let's have a vote.

VICTORY

State your profession.

I beg your pardon?

I make dresses and perfume.

Did you close your business when Paris fell to the Nazis?

Are you married?

You are, aren't you?

I'll give you a bottle of Chanel No. 5 for your wife.

You can tell her you got it from Mademoiselle Chanel herself.

She will love you forever.

Answer the question.

Absolutely. I shut my doors. I'd rather have starved than dress Nazis.

I left Paris to be with my nephew André and his daughter Gabrielle.

André served in the French army corps,

got captured and was treated terribly by the Nazis.

- Simply awful. - But he was released.

Most of those who were sent to Nazi prison camps never get out.

He was... ... lucky, I guess.

Luck?

We are under the impression

that Baron Vaufreland had something to do with it.

If he had anything to do with André's release, that's news to me.

You lived at the Hotel Ritz throughout the occupation, did you not?

Darling, I lived there before the war, during the war.

And I still do call it home.

The Ritz was known to be the social hub of Nazi High Command.

They were not the least bit social, but tha...

Did you have occasion to meet with Walter Schellenberg?

No. Not to my knowledge.

He was seen at the Ritz, where you lived.

I can hardly be accountable

for every person who walks through a hotel lobby.

We have reason to believe you traveled to Spain at his behest.

And what reason is that?

Mademoiselle, you were seen in Madrid.

Crossing borders was not possible without Nazi clearance.

Do you have my name on travel documents? Show them to me.

What are these reasons other than rumors?

Well, charge me... ... or let me go.

- Good day, gentlemen. - You are not going anywhere.

You do have a telephone, don't you?

I'd like to clear up any confusion here.

Sit down. Now.

I've heard of you FFIs and your tactics.

And I'm certain my good friend Sir Winston Churchill

will not look kindly upon those who would deny me my basic rights.

Yes. Sir Winston will know exactly what to do with you.

And you.

You think I'm bluffing?

She is threatening to bring your prime minister into this.

I heard.

Is it possible he gets involved?

Unfortunately, yes.

MI6's interrogation of Elsa Lombardi in Madrid confirmed for us

that, uh, Chanel and Churchill do in fact know each other quite well.

I don't want Churchill to interfere.

Well, deny her any phone calls and he won't be able to.

- Sir. - Hmm?

You're gonna want to hear what she's saying now.

Really?

... that. Not everyone can pull off a cinched waist with a belt.

Your shape would be better served with a fuller silhouette.

Trust me.

You know who I am, don't you?

Hmm?

Oh, for goodness' sake.

Yes. Better already.

Now, when may I make that call?

Ladies and gentlemen, only a minute or two more.

Christian, now is our chance. Huh?

I've managed to line up a meeting with some investors.

We must strike out on our own.

With, uh, planning we can have everything ready for next season.

Get a head start while everyone else is trying to,

uh, dress, uh, Lelong's stupid toys.

Shall we have a show of hands, please?

All those in favor of creating this group show.

We have the votes. Thank God.

It's a good idea.

Yes, I'll alert him immediately.

- Sir. - Yes?

Prime Minister Churchill rang the Central London office

on Miss Chanel's behalf.

What?

But she was denied any calls.

I'm told her maid was able to get through to him.

And now we are not permitted to interrogate his acquaintances

without written consent.

We should have never brought you in on her arrest.

You didn't know anything about her travel to Madrid.

We all want the same result here, and we can still help you.

How?

Well, we have another agent working her case,

who has leverage on her nephew.

If the intelligence he gathers on Chanel is damning enough,

it will put Churchill in an impossible spot publicly,

and then you'll be able to arrest her officially.

But for now, we'll have to let her go.

Make the call.

It's time.

We need you to make the introduction to Chanel now.

All right, I understand.

I didn't know you were back in Paris.

Taking the last of my things and, uh, I'll be gone soon. Don't worry.

We should talk about Catherine.

And say what exactly?

That she's in Ravensbrück or... or in a grave?

I saw your father in the South.

He... He doesn't know what happened to Catherine.

What did you tell him?

It's not my place to tell him what happened to his daughter.

- But it's wrong he doesn't know. - He knows that she was arrested.

She's been taken to a camp.

You're his son.

- Just tell him. - Goddamn this war.

Goddamn you. Destroying my family.

- Christian... - Get out, Hervé. Get out. Just go.

Go see your father.

Welcome to France.

Welcome to you all.

- Mademoiselle, are you all right? - Oh, yes.

We heard you were brought in for questioning.

Thank you. Uh, no need for concern. Hmm.

Let's just focus on getting bottles of perfume

in the hands of all those GIs outside. Hmm.

Coco.

- Oh. André. - Are you all right?

I was so worried.

The FFI, they... they wouldn't let me get...

... anywhere near you.

No, I'm all right, darling.

No, uh... They know nothing but scandalous rumors and lies.

Come. Let me take you for a drink.

Oscar is waiting, and there's someone we want you to meet...

- Oh, a drink? - ... who could help protect you.

Oh, mademoiselle, what an awful ordeal.

Ugh. Thank you, Oscar.

Uh, how did you convince them to release you?

I told them the truth.

- And they believed you? - No. No.

They didn't want to be confused with the facts.

So I threatened to call Churchill.

I'm sure that got their prompt attention.

The FFIs need to know who's in control here.

Until de Gaulle gets his house in order.

We have Winston Churchill to thank for your release.

- To Churchill. - To Churchill.

- Oh, uh, Malcolm. Come join us. - Ah.

Good afternoon.

And this is?

Sorry, it's my friend Malcolm Muggeridge.

Pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle.

Malcolm is a journalist Oscar met at the Savoy a few months back.

He's in Paris writing articles about the liberation.

A journalist? Oh, my God.

I loathe the papers.

Most of what's being written is causing great damage.

Not in the London Telegraph.

We're in the business of news, not gossip.

We don't point fingers.

We-We pride ourselves on showing the whole hand.

Mmm, I'm glad someone is. Boo!

What I'd like to write about next is the legendary Coco Chanel,

her triumphant return.

I don't do press.

I've experienced slander masquerading as news too many times.

Well, to slander you would be unforgivable.

What my readers want is the truth.

To know the real you.

You know, I just came from my boutique,

where the GIs are lining up down the block.

This is what people want from me.

The classics. They want Chanel No. 5.

It's best kept to that.

Auntie, an article by Malcolm could be so helpful.

He can tell the world the good person you really are.

Just because you're famous and lived at the Ritz

doesn't mean you should have a target on your back.

People don't know the truth.

How you closed your atelier when the Nazis marched into Paris.

How you refused to design for them.

I don't want to see you vilified like Arletty.

Now, here's how I envision it.

The article will cover what you went through during the war.

Shutting down your atelier.

Always siding with your morals over your money.

I don't want to be put on a pedestal.

That... There's my work. People should judge that.

But they're both connected, you and your work.

People forget when you first started your business,

it was illegal in France for women to even have bank accounts.

Your work is groundbreaking.

And you, mademoiselle, are a pioneer.

People need to remember that.

He's done his work.

- Mm-hmm. - I'm impressed.

Anytime you care to tell your side of the story,

I would be honored to help facilitate.

I'll leave the three of you to your drinks.

Consider my offer.

I can help.

You should talk to him.

Is Malcolm trustworthy?

Oscar knows several newspapers in London who've worked with him.

I'm sure you can get a personal reference.

I could certainly look into him.

Please let him.

Let me help you like you've helped me.

We'll see.

Uh, keep it like this. It will be perfect.

Oh.

Lillian, did you hear about the new fabric?

I said I need zippers that zip,

buttons that button and corsets that hold.

Come here!

It's like these are the clients.

All of this should function. Must function.

But, monsieur, it will take an eternity

to sew working zippers and corsets

into these little dresses.

An eternity is a small price to pay for perfection.

Do it.

Pierre, we must discuss this design.

Please leave me alone. I'm busy.

What have you been doing all morning?

You're not seriously considering presenting this as a finished piece.

What's the matter? We are dressing dolls.

Pierre, I understand that you're unhappy.

You've made that quite evident,

but this work is substandard even for you.

Your vendetta against me is purely personal.

You are embarrassing yourself.

I have no such agenda.

This whole idea is a mistake.

Christian!

Christian and I have been considering the next steps in our careers,

and it's time we tell you.

You are a small-minded man who has fat fingers that make nothing.

Christian, uh, we need to discuss a number of things

- with regards to Théâtre de la Mode. - Théâtre de la Mode?

That's what you are calling this ridiculous circus of baby toys?

Fuck your little dolls!

Christian and I are leaving you to start our own house.

No, no...

- Now, Pierre... - Christian, is this true?

Pierre...

Do you know what your problem is?

Oh, yes. It's you.

You and all the other fraudulent bureaucrats

who steal the talents of others and pass them off as their own.

Catherine ! Catherine !

No, it's not that.

It's that you think you are something that you are not.

And what's that?

Important.

Christian, let's get out of here.

- Christian? Christian. - P-Please, please. Not now.

You can't possibly allow this man, this tormentor,

this vampire to stifle your talents any longer.

I need you by my side.

I'm sorry.

Everyone is nervous enough. Why are you yelling?

It would seem that Monsieur Balmain has, uh, finally

and mercifully tendered his resignation.

He has? We don't have time for that.

We'll have to make time.

And now, Christian,

you will do all of the designs for the House of Lelong.

I see. Balmain will be missed, of course,

but congratulations are in order.

I have to go see my father. I can't accept. I can't.

Christian, we understand that, uh, your life at present

is presenting you with many challenges,

but work can be the elixir.

Believe in yourself.

You can do it, Christian. You can.

It will be wonderful.

I know you won't disappoint me.

Yes.

But how does he treat his subjects?

Uh, well, based on what I've heard,

- Muggeridge has a very fine pedigree. - Mm-hmm.

He's impressed every editor he's worked for.

No, but those are his employers.

Uh, how about his recent interviews?

Uh, well, I've read several, and they're tough but fair-minded.

None of them are slanderous hit pieces.

All right, uh, Oscar. I'll call him.

How was that?

Oh, you'd have made an excellent candidate for MI6.

It's such a shame the Nazis got you first.

Malcolm promised that if I cooperated,

that British Intelligence would help to clear me

of collaboration charges.

Oh, don't worry, Oscar.

We'll take care of you.

If this helps us get Chanel.

And what if it doesn't?

Hmm. Deliver her nephew.

He fought for the French.

He's done nothing but defend his country.

Oh, please. He knows a lot more than you think.

Fuck you.

You know, you disgust me.

Shame on you!

Consorting and sleeping with the enemy.

- Betraying her country. - She must pay.

- What should we do with her? - Shave her head!

- What should we do with her? - Shave her head!

Mademoiselle, they've taken Arletty from the hotel.

- Traitor! - Collaborator!

Vive la France !

- Consorting with the enemy. - Vive la France !

This awfulness has to stop.

That's what you get!

- Shame on you! - Traitor! Traitor!

Justice!

That's for your international ass.

You get what you deserve.

She was... ... taken to a work camp in Germany.

Ravensbrück.

What else are you holding back?

I've heard rumors, and I'm just trying to prepare you.

To prepare us both.

Well, what kind of rumors?

The Germans are taking the prisoners

on... ... death marches.

I don't understand you, Christian.

Distract yourself your whole life with art, drawing, now clothes.

Escaping to a fantasy world.

But when it comes to family...

to something that needed your attention,

demanded that you be present...

you couldn't do it.

Now your sister is gone.

I told Catherine to stop working for the Resistance.

I... I did everything I could.

You were her older brother.

If you'd been truly a man, she would have listened to you.

I did everything I could!

Welcome.

- After you. - Thank you.

Good evening, mademoiselle. I thank you for this opportunity to talk.

- Would you care for a drink? - Please.

Uh, terrible news about Arletty.

I heard it was quite the spectacle.

I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.

To not having your head shaved.

But, uh, what should we make of them?

Uh, these collaborators. You tell me. Oh, tell us.

Uh, Arletty made her choices, and I fear they're catching up with her.

But what I find obscene is that

this harsh treatment is solely reserved for women.

What about all the men on the French police force

who-who served the Nazis?

- Or the black marketeers? - Uh, I agree.

But it's the women who is publicly humiliated and degraded.

No, the way the FFIs are doing this is medieval.

Uh, what? Oscar, are you drunk?

It's over.

I'm scum. Garbage.

I'm done.

You're not safe. You must get out of Paris.

- Uh, what? - Leave Paris now.

Oscar, what's happened?

Your aunt's not safe. They trapped me.

- Who did? - MI6.

He got me to turn on her, but now they want me to turn on you.

Who did?

Muggeridge.

Muggeridge is MI6? He's with her now.

Do I disgust you, André?

He's with her now.

You know, I must say, when all is said and done,

history will conclude the Allies are no better than the Nazis.

Uh, help me understand.

Well, the Allies continue to accommodate Stalin.

Mass murderer of his own people.

On the other hand, the Germans fought against Stalin.

But unfortunately, they are determined

to wipe out anything that isn't German.

And, uh, in this confusion

you might easily find yourself attracted to a handsome Nazi.

What are you referring to?

Oh, mademoiselle, there are rumors

that you were involved with a Nazi officer.

Rumors. Nothing more.

- No truth? - Rumors are rumors.

Yes, but the FFIs clearly have you targeted.

And let me help you get ahead of these rumors,

and find out where these stories are coming from and stop them.

- With what? - With facts.

He-He must have a name. This officer they accuse you of dating.

You want his name? That... That will help?

It will.

Uh, off the record?

As you wish.

I beg your pardon for interrupting.

Coco, we need to go to the boutique right now.

There are rioters all over Rue Cambon. We need to go now.

Oh, my God. Did you call Chloe?

Yes, I did call Chloe. We need to go and save what we can

before they burn everything to the ground.

- Good Lord, my shop. - How can I help?

Call me in the morning.

We'll finish our conversation on the record.

Madame Domenger will see you out.

God, what's happening?

I thought that the work meant something.

That what I did meant something, and I have to tell you...

I don't feel that way anymore.

I don't feel

that I am even a proper man.

The grief that you feel over

Catherine's fate must be like a...

a kind of giant wave crashing over you again and again.

But that tide will recede.

Christian, the show is in two days, and everyone has embraced it.

And the work... the work, Christian...

The work can move us forward.

Creation perhaps cannot stop the bullet,

but creation is our way forward.

Our survival. Our salvation.

I thank you so much, Lucien.

But I must ask you...

please apologize to our friends. From me.

I'm sorry. I just...

I can't design anymore. I must leave... I must leave this city.

I can't stay in Paris any longer.

Oscar sounded desperate.

Either they're gonna kill him or he'll kill them.

Good God.

It's not safe here anymore.

We have to leave. As soon as we can.

You cannot leave Paris, Coco.

That would be an admission of guilt, and you've done nothing wrong.

But we can't stay in France.

Come with me. Get Gabrielle.

But to go where?

Where we can all be safe.

Hello.

Oscar.

Oscar, I need you to open the door.

Oscar, are you in there? We've lost Chanel.

Oscar, do you know where she's headed?

Oscar, what the hell did you do?

Oscar, they're going to arrest you now if you don't help us.

Oscar. Damn it! Open the door.

We can hear you in there.

Oscar! No, don't! Don't!

I've been waiting for you, Christian.

Sit down.

You said you s-saw me with a child, yeah?

I did.

This morning as I was leaving Paris...

a-a woman came, and she put a baby in front of the church.

I saw it, and it started to cry.

So, I picked the baby up, and I held it.

It's okay. It's okay.

You are very beautiful.

Yes. Oh.

How did you know that would happen?

- Bye-bye. - Thank you.

How did you know that that would happen? How did you know?

I don't know things. I see them.

I'm so scared.

I'm so frightened for Catherine.

All of the time.

Can you help me?

Ask the universe what you want to know.

Is she alive?

Open your heart, Christian.

She's my sister.

My heart... My heart is open.

No. It is not. Your heart is not open.

My heart is not open? My heart is open.

My heart... My heart is open!

Catherine. Where are you?

Where are you?

Ask the universe what you want to know.

Catherine!

Catherine! Where are you?

Are you alive?

She will return.

She will return.

But only if you lead the way.

You must follow your inspiration. You must create.

You must find your heart.

You must find your life. That's your salvation.

And then maybe she will be able to come and find you.

That's your salvation.

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