Original subtitles

I'm scared... I'm scared.

Push! It's quite okay.

It's hurting. I don't know how to breathe.

I've lost the rhythm. I'm breathing badly.

You're doing well.

There you have it... all good.

What I'm feeling there...

Oh, I hate you... I hate you...

Hang in there!

Fucking Argentinian arsehole!

Take a deep breath.

Fuck... it's alright...

That's it, keep going. That's good. PUSH.

- No no. Go away! - There... it's good.

Come on, just a little more.

- Not so close, not so close. - Let's move over there.

It's good. There you have it.

Stretch out... Come on, breathe.

That's it... Be brave.

- Breathe, breathe. Calmly. - That's right, push.

Push, push, push! It's good!

That's good, that's it.

Oh fuck! What a shitty idea!

Stop looking.

Please don't look.

That's good, that's it. Here it comes...

There... I see the head. Come on... it's good.

Push, push.

Push, push. That's it!

There... I've got it...

Well, at the beginning of this story, there are our characters.

The mother... she's suffered, like Joan of Arc at the stake.

And the father, during that time? Nothing!

But with Jose, that's his name...

...it's usual to be somewhere doing nothing.

Some months later, here they are in a town in the Massif Central.

When a foreigner thinks of France, he'd wouldn't picture a town like this.

Never.

Jose is here...

...to re-design the logo for a well-known brand of tyres.

Jose is an artist.

He draws comic strips. And he's very talented.

He's published some comic books and even created a character...

...having some notoriety.

A kind of evil and nasty egg with legs...

...that he's drawn for a bit too long.

The infamous Coucou.

By the way, I suppose you're asking who I happen to be.

You'll have to be patient.

I can just give you a hint.

I don't have an easy task...

...because the story I'm telling you, is that of my murderer.

Well, kind of.

A story of life and death.

And it doesn't matter in what order.

Let go of the spoon!

The idea is to eat what's on the spoon...

...and not the spoon itself, alright?

Wait... wait...

Hi.

Hi.

Your daughter only wants to eat bananas.

Have a taste.

- Anything wrong with that? - No, it's good.

- It's too watery. - It's the pumpkin.

But what's wrong with it?

What's wrong? Tell me!

Okay, let's start again. The spoon.

Here is the spoon.

Lucie...

I got sacked.

- Come on, hang up. - No wait.

They'll pick up. Just wait a bit.

Why don't you have his mobile number?

He's not a pal. He's the HR manager.

Hullo.

Hello...

I'm Lucie Echebarn, wife of Jose Adida.

Well, we have a daughter together, but we're not married.

Well, hello!

Just how can I be of help, Miss Echebarn?

- So, you're Pascal? - Yes.

Well, Pascal...

Well, the reason I'm calling you...

...is that we moved into this pretty little town...

...about 2 months ago...

...called by the agency you engaged...

...to have Jose come and work on the little guy in your logo.

We came here. Jose had other proposals.

Yes, he had.

Let me speak.

Pascal, must we get into an argument, right off?

I just didn't agree with what you were saying.

Well, now we agree.

Fine! A pleasure for me too. Thank you.

Goodbye.

Your mummy... is a genius!

I've talked with good old Pascal. And with Marc... and with Thomas...

I negotiated 12 months rent...

...12 months health insurance and 6 months salary.

- Not bad, eh? - Not bad.

I'm ecstatic!

And I think I can find a job, because Mathilde's grandpa...

...knows the founder of the local paper that's called 'La Roue de l'Auvergne'.

I wrote to him.

Are you going to work?

Yes.

And Antonia?

You don't have a job.

One of us has to work.

We don't have a choice.

- True, but she's 6 months old. - 7 months. Almost a year.

Alright, but she needs her mummy doesn't she?

- Her daddy, too. - Yes, her daddy...

Daddy too.

My mother went back to work after 2 weeks.

- When I was a month old, she was... - Working in the fabric factory.

You told me about it, as though it was bad.

Doesn't make things better.

But we didn't have a father... It's different.

And I'm not...

Just a moment.

Yes? Mathilde? Yes.

Good... Really?

But, an interview? Not to start...

Yes that's it. Scared me.

You know, I won't be able to leave the baby.

Why are they sending me this? Like I was going to read it.

For you to start drawing it again.

- Coucou's dead. - He could be resurrected.

Impossible.

You could try to read the French version.

It would be an opportunity to practice a bit.

I'd like to go back to having tuition.

I've made contact with a private teacher.

A Colombian woman.

Colombian woman?

- Not a Colombian woman. - Why not?

- A Colombian woman? - Yes.

- No way! - What?

No! Too Caribbean.

Much too... hot.

- Too like... Shakira. - So what?

No...

- This excites you, doesn't it? - Yes, it excites me.

But what really excites me, is the hair in your armpits.

She won't sleep more than five minutes.

That's enough.

Wonderful. Five minutes.

- Shit! Wait! - Should I go?

No, no... leave her.

- Let her cry. - It distracts me.

It's alright... don't worry.

- Sorry. - It doesn't matter.

- Here? - Yes.

It's putting me off.

- Have you read Francoise Dolto? - No.

What are you doing? Be patient...

Wait for me.

She ate at eight o'clock...

...but by 9.30 she'll already start crying.

But... wait...

You have to wait until ten o'clock.

Don't feed her before ten o'clock, please.

Try to hold out until 10.30 but I doubt it will work.

Mornings are the worst... She cries non-stop.

She calms down around noon, but eating is a battle.

As it's the first time, give her a whole banana.

Then try to put her to bed. She won't fall asleep...

...but the doctor says she has to understand that sleep's necessary.

It must become a routine, a ritual.

You have to try for an hour.

An hour to put her to sleep?

Yes, it's essential.

The doctor is quite adamant.

I forgot, change her before she gets dirty.

She cries when she's dirty.

- Got it? - Yes.

Alright, repeat what I've said.

Wait, tell me again.

Alright then... Call me if you need to know something?

You going to wish me good luck, Dopey?

- Dopey?! - You're not?

- Sure. - Ah!

'Bye, sweetheart!

Sorry!

Good evening!

- She's eaten? - Twice.

- Oh good? Bananas? - No, I didn't find any.

- I couldn't find any at the market. - Oh, shit!

So what did she eat?

Pumpkin.

- And she ate it? - Yes. She liked it.

How did it go?

For me?

Horrible... It was a nightmare.

Indescribable. My boss is a...

...Gaullist...

...moronic, macho...

...arsehole!

Hill-billy...

...homophobe...

A square, giant schmuck!

Actually, I shouldn't say that... because he is very nice.

There he is, looking at me... ad he goes...

"My little Lucie, um..."

"It has to be... It has to be dignified."

"The dignity of the paper..."

"The power of the line..."

And I understand nothing. Not true. I understand well.

- I don't want to understand it. - In Spanish?

Everything is fine.

He wants me to head the graphics department.

You're having me on?

Well, I don't know. You should've seen the look of this graphic designer.

Like the love-child of Tortue Geniale and Pierre Bellemare.

Imagine the graphics that is this person's developing!

You don't understand?

You talked too fast. I couldn't get anything.

I'm sorry, I keep forgetting. But you...

You could make an effort.

You live in France! It depresses me that you don't learn French!

- I don't understand you. - That depresses me!

You make me your only link with social life.

It's perverse... That's the word.

Honestly... I'm not saying this to be mean...

...but it could give us both nervous breakdowns.

Nervous breakdowns? Why are you attacking me?

Yeah... that's funny.

It's funny, because as soon as I try to talk about you, I...

I'm "attacking" you, as you call it.

No...

You're right... it's not funny, it's hopeless.

You're jealous of Antonia and me.

And you, you don't say anything! You still say nothing! Nothing at all.

And when you say something, it's about something else.

- Can you repeat that in Spanish? - No!

I didn't understand a word.

You're going to say I'm anally retentive.

I feel like you don't care if I understand. No?

Whatever interests you, has to be right.

It's a technique.

You convince yourself, to convince others.

It was very effective during World War II.

Not so?

You'd convince crowds. But it's a bit overbearing.

Another coincidence... you also fled to Argentina.

From now on...

...I won't say another word in Spanish in this house.

- That's it... a dictatorship. - Over to you, old boy.

- Yeah! - Nazi.

- Illiterate. - Nazi.

Vichy is not far. You should go there.

- Idiot. - Collaborator.

Schmuck.

It's four o'clock.

Yes?

Hello.

I am Jose, I live in the house next door.

And I would like to ask you...

...a spade to work in my garden.

Pleased to meet you.

Ah, you have a spade, to work in my garden?

- Venezuela? - No, Argentina.

How about that! Argentine!

Buenos Aires is wonderful.

Yes, but I am from Rosario.

Central or Newell's?

I'm not interested in football.

- Sorry. - So much the better! Come on in.

- Oh... my daughter is... - Come in!

Coward!

So, do you like the neighbourhood?

Er... yes.

- And the city? It's ugly, isn't it? - Yes...

I won't ask what brings you here... no one comes for any good reason.

What do you do?

- What I do? - Your work.

- Ah! No wark. - Oh no!

You say "werk".

- "Wark"? - No, werk!

"Wark", "wark".

No. "Werk".

Werk.

Yes! So?

Oh, but I take care of the house, I take care of my "dotter".

No! Attention.

"Dorter".

"Dotter".

"Dorter".

- Daughter. - Daughter! Bravo!

And you?

I work for a company that audits other companies...

...and I propose profit-optimisations.

That supposes a decrease product quality...

...lay-offs, tax evasion...

It's not an easy job, but someone has to do it.

It's not given to everyone to be the bastard.

As to business, politics, the local economy... I don't care!

There is only one thing...

...that can intoxicate my little withered heart...

...and make it beat passionately.

Want to know what it is?

- Why "no"? Yes! - Oh, yes.

It's jazz!

1,533 albums. Only jazz, everything is there.

From A to Z.

Buddy Rich.

Here, look at this.

- Cecil Taylor, know him? - No.

- You don't know him? - No.

Say, you have to work on your culture, buddy. Here, read.

Read what's there.

"Archibald Vernon Shepp"?

Archibald Vernon Shepp!

This is Archie Shepp's personal copy.

It's crazy, eh?

And wait, that's not all! Look at this!

Mouldy fig, sour grape.

It was a terrible war.

Much hotter than the Cold War, I can tell you!

No KGB, no CIA, no Ml-6, just with...

...The Hot Club de France. Eh?

You know who was the big victim of this dirty war? Swing music!

Sweetness to the ear, its beating heart...

love amongst the plebs... Finito!

What was to blame? Jose?

Because of the bebop schmucks!

I don't say they weren't geniuses.

They made a revolution as important as 1789...

without the guillotine. Hats off! But this...

Listen to this.

"Little Flower" Sidney Bechet

That is perfection.

It's not trying to be modern.

It's not trying to be new.

It's just... eternal.

Eh?

I am sure that God, at this moment...

...is listening to Sidney Bechet.

God created the world while listening to Sidney Bechet, Jose.

Sorry. I've got to go...

Wait!

The spade?

You came to borrow a spade, right?

Fine!

- Alright. - Jose!

Oh, sorry!

I found an amazing place which has super-fresh oysters.

And I also brought back champagne!

Oh, put...

Did you know that most oysters that we eat...

...are genetically modified?

Because...

Because we add a chromosome to them...

...which stops them reproducing.

And so...

...these oysters are sterile with Down syndrome.

When we get back, daddy might have to go away...

...for some time.

If you don't want to see me when I get out of prison, I'll understand.

Yes?

Excuse me, could I talk to you for a moment?

Yes.

I saw you.

Can you talk slowly? I do not speak French well.

Alright...

I've been retired for a while.

And...

Well, I don't have much money.

- So... - So?

So I babysit...

...and I also cook for neighbours.

I thought you might be interested in my services...

...your daughter and you.

Cooking?

Yes, cooking.

To eat!

Yum-yum!

Come in.

Come through here.

Come and look... This is my favourite place.

You know I worked at the Capuchin monks'.

I know their secret recipes.

- Has she ever eaten any pear? - Yes.

Would you like some pear?

Want it?

Yeah?

Cold, eh? A bit cold?

You like it, eh?

What would this little Antoinette like to eat?

Hi, neighbour! How's things?

Come see me again one of these days.

Eh, Jose?

See you.

All this is becoming rather weird, right?

Don't you think so?

A story of life and death, but in which order, doesn't matter.

Just as well I told you, eh?

Alright.

No, but you understand that I don't work 24 hours a day. No?

I don't even have time to see my daughter.

But stop asking me my schedule every day.

Breathing is a whole program. Can we talk about it tomorrow?

Yes. That's fine.

Thank you. Goodbye.

I want to die.

- You OK? - No, I'm not OK.

So what is it?

I went with Antonia to Agnes's.

I don't know who that is.

The old lady who watches for us all the time.

Yes. And...?

She baked this pie for us.

I'm not hungry.

You swirl it slowly... Gently.

No! Don't fidget like that!

You have to swirl it.

- Like that? - Yeah, that's it. Faster.

Got it!

Now you sniff a second time. We call it "the second nose".

That's it. And then you try to absorb the aromas of the wine.

You even try to dive into it.

Take a sip.

- And inhale through your mouth. - Inhale...?

Through your mouth. Watch.

What an idiot!

- Sorry. - You spat for 800 francs!

You're right. It's plonk.

We'll pick up later.

No... put it there.

Don't put it there, put it there.

No! On the table.

- Here? - Yes, there.

Closer... closer!

That's it!

Well done.

And now, I'll have you taste a local wine.

A Madargue.

An old wine from the earthy Auvergnats cul-de-sacs.

They sold it to me like a jewel, at the price of a jewel.

- I want to share it with a friend. - But... the other...

It deserved to end up on the floor. Now we have to drink this one.

And no fuss, eh!

Don't swill it, don't smell it. Doesn't matter...

Drink it like Coke.

There!

Cheers!

And now...

Tell me about yourself.

About me?

Well yes... about you!

Who are you?

What is your secret?

What are you hiding?

I couldn't explain it.

Complicated, eh?

Well I'd say... I see that you love life...

You like plants... you like to work the soil.

You were born with the soul of a ploughman...

...in an era devoid of ploughmen. And that, I like.

I come from a family of country people.

The plough, the cattle, the routine... that wasn't for me.

As soon as I could, I pulled out.

But hey, enough about me.

And anyway... my life has little of importance.

Really?

Let's talk about serious things.

What do you listen to?

Jazz.

Jaaaazz!

Good answer by the Argentinian!

And I remind you that here, we only listen to jazz.

The same thung that we listened to the last time.

- "The same thing". - Yes!

No! "Thing".

- "The same thung". - No!

"Thiiing".

"Thing".

Bravo!

"Pequena flor".

Little Flower.

Little. Little Flower.

"Little flower", that's it...

No way!

Surprise!

Everything is organised for tonight.

Yes. Look.

Look at these two little cats. Say goodbye to mummy.

- And we... are going out. - Where to?

I've been given two tickets to see Herve Villard tonight.

- Fantastico, no? - Thanks, Agnes. 'Bye.

We're going to break the sound barrier.

Enjoy your evening!

We'll never go again...

Where you told me that I love you

We'll never go again...

I've made up my mind

We'll never go again...

Tonight it's just not worth it

We'll never go again...

Like in the years gone by

Wait, hold this.

Capri is over!

And to think it was the city of my very first love

Capri is over!

I do not believe that I'll ever go back

Capri is over!

And to think it was the city of my very first love

Capri is over!

I do not believe...

"I do not believe that I'll ever go back"

I understand.

- Herve! - We'll never go again...

I love you, Herve!

Where you told me that I love you

Eh? What?

- Do you love him more than me? - No.

Sometimes I wish...

...to say "Let's start again"

But I don't have the courage

Knowing that you'll say no

Capri is over!

And to think it was the city of my very first love

Capri is over!

I do not believe that I'll ever go back

Capri is over!

Look... we're here.

We're here.

From that Thursday on...

...he murdered me every week.

He killed me with a marble bust.

Strangling with a belt.

Chainsaw attack.

Beheaded with an axe.

Poisoned with strychnine.

He kicked me to death... hammered, electrocuted...

...and drowned in the bathtub.

He threw me down the stairs.

He punctured my skull.

He burned me alive.

He killed me in every possible way...

...those that the simple imagination of the unemployed suggested to him.

And every Thursday, after the murder...

as if it were part of the same ritual...

Lucie arrived, enthusiastic...

...with a new romantic proposal.

They went dancing, singing loudly, shouting.

Or went to the concert of an old-fashioned singer.

They participated in strange choreographies.

Where they went out for a drink and got drunk together.

They were laughing and loving like never before.

As if all this would last forever.

The happiness of being together was unique and never-ending.

And they loved each other until dawn.

They would remember those Thursdays as their happiest days.

Hey, lovers... we're closing.

- What are you doing? - Mm? What?

Nothing.

Hell! It's hell here. I can't take it anymore.

Well, no, it's not hell. At least it's warm in hell.

And I'm fed up. How fed up I am!

It's...

I hate my job.

I hate them all.

I want to give myself a kick in the arse.

You know I was like, that... the distance with you...

...with Antonia, especially, it...

It doesn't suit me at all, and...

I think I should see a shrink.

A... A shrink? You?

I know it's not my thing, analysis, but I was told of a...

...of a new therapist who arrived in Clermont.

I don't know... there seems to be a method...

Method?

Yeah, a kind of... not very traditional therapy.

What do you mean by "not very traditional"?

Don't know.

Gestalt, Young, Sting, ayahuasca... I don't know!

Some kind of shaman, then?

- Sorry. My apologies, I... - Hello.

I've just done an intervention... an autistic child.

The parents were desperate.

It was very intense!

What a mystery, this kind of spirit!

What... hidden energy!

It's like a volcano, always latent.

When it explodes...

Poof! Today, he...

He said his first words.

11 years old.

He'd never spoken. Today, he offered us...

...his very first words.

Know what they were?

No.

"Leave me alone!"

"Leave me alone!" It's crazy. He had to be left alone.

The thing is, time...

...is not the same for everyone.

Don't you think so?

I guess so.

- You guess so? Why? - Yes.

The unconscious is complex.

The unconscious, yes... What is the unconscious?

What we repress.

What we prefer to ignore.

Yes! And you...? What is it that you...

What do you repress? What do you hide?

Excuse me, this is moving a bit fast, don't you think?

Fast? I felt that we took time.

You haven't told me why you're here.

You haven't asked us.

Yes, but I don't need to ask.

Oh, really?

If you came for a consultation, it's because...

...you need to speak to me, right?

Or...

if you like, also...

...I can read your thoughts.

Does that mean you're reading out thoughts?

You came to see me, both of you...

...together.

That's to say...

...there's something that you've lost, right?

Something which...

...which is asleep... and that you'd like to wake up.

Yes.

Something that died...

...and needs to be resurrected.

Everything dies.

Everything resurrects.

Why are we afraid?

And... what do we do, with this love?

You...

Are you afraid?

Lucie?

Are you afraid?

Yes.

Of what?

What are you afraid of? Where did this come from?

I'm afraid of...

I'm afraid of not living life that I'd like to live.

I'm afraid of being mediocre.

I'm afraid of hurting the people I love.

And... I'm afraid to miss out... to miss out on living.

Bruno... Rodrigues.

Ah...

"Psychic Adventure Centre"!

Take a look at this... Ah!

Look at this crook's face!

I've got to be dreaming!

Centre of wellness...

You have to ask... what is this about?

"Psychic Adventure Centre"...

"is an association created by Bruno Rodrigues...

"who, through his research, spiritual experiences and his travels...

"heals the most rooted ailments in everyone"' No, but...

...we're at home with the dingoes!

He should be behind bars.

- You're right. It doesn't smell good. - Oh no! It doesn't smell good.

Well listen... we're not going to let this go.

I want to see you happy, my friend.

So, to begin with, you drink this glass of Chateaugay...

...that you haven't even touched, when it's a marvel. Mmm?

That's better.

Well, it is!

That's a real psychic adventure, eh?

And now, music!

What's the matter, Lucy?

- What is it? - Nothing.

I just don't want to talk about it.

Talk about what?

It's not about anything you'd imagine.

Nothing to worry about.

Well, now I'll start to imagine all sorts of things.

I've done something...

...very...

not very...

No, I can't explain.

It's not something you can talk about.

Otherwise, it gets damaged.

What are you talking about?

About that which...

The pregnancy was very difficult.

It was like a revolution going on in my body.

And you weren't very...

Yes, I was a bit overwhelmed.

I started to fondle myself, more and more...

And now I need to masturbate myself.

A lot.

Even after having sex.

Oh.

After having sex!

Sometimes.

Sometimes?

Often.

Always.

Always.

You mean...

...that I don't satisfy you?

No, not at all!

With you, I have very good orgasms.

It's great with you.

It's just that afterwards I always need...

...to come a second time.

Maybe to reclaim my enjoyment for myself.

Have you discussed it with the group? Is that the problem?

Well, I'd never participated directly. And...

...usually we did exercises on the unconscious.

Free association of thoughts.

Things like that, and...

And one day, Mathilde told me about a new exercise called...

..."psychic revolution".

What did this guy do to you?

No... you're mixed up.

I want to know what he did to you.

He did not do anything to me!

- Was it someone else? - No... no one else.

It was me.

You?

It was me who...

You...

- You masturbated? - Mm.

In front of everyone?

Mm.

- The guy's a psychopath. - I know it seems...

In fact, it's quite straightforward.

I'm not forced... It's up to me...

In the circle, I spoke. - You undressed...

- ...in front of everyone? - No, not at all!

I just slid my hand inside my pants, that's all.

Did you come?

- Eh? - Did you come?

No.

How many times?

I think that's a very personal question.

You cherish me.

- You cherish me. - You cherish me too.

- Are you sure you want to come? - Quite sure!

I think it's near here... Yeah, here it is!

Come on.

Everything, okay? Do we have everyone?

Take your places.

Excellent.

I don't know that.

- Stuffed with what? - With truffles.

- Oh yes! - I don't like truffles.

- Really? - I can't stand it.

- It's too strong. - It tastes like petrol.

You never tasted it?

Is there good cheese in your country?

Yes, very good.

No!

Sorry... No! There's no good cheese in Argentina.

That country has so many cows...

...there must be some good cheese.

Yes, that's true...

But when I was there...

...I gave up on eating cheese.

That's not true.

You told me that you loved cheese with jam.

I think you're exaggerating.

I believe Jorge.

There must be delicious cheeses.

There are cows, there's cheese...

Obviously.

Jose.

Sorry?

My name's Jose, You said "Jorge".

- It's the same thing. - Doesn't matter.

No, it's not the same thing. It's true, it's true.

Jose!

You're right. I am sorry.

Do you know why I was confused?

One of my greatest teachers...

He was Argentinian.

His name was Jorge.

Jorge!

Jorge...

The great Jorge.

Here, take my place.

Jorge... Jorge Vasco.

An unforgettable painter, a metaphysical painter.

A visionary... I learned everything from him.

My Jorge...

The great Jorge, "the Jorge of the Parana"...

...as he liked me to call him. He came from the Parana River.

At Rosario.

That's funny... Jose also comes from Rosario!

Quite a coincidence!

Crazy, all the same!

You come from Rosario? Let me touch you.

I have never been to Rosario. But for me...

...it's a magical place... Rosario, the Parana.

These are legendary names for me.

The islands he told me so much about...

The twilights.

The fishermen.

The fish.

The meandering of the river, the great floating islands...

...carried by the current.

But they have a name. What is it? A strange name.

Was it... calambus? No. Wait, it was...

Camalotes.

Camalotes!

Camalotes!

Camalotes!

Camalotes!

How many times...

How many times he told me about them, my...

My great love, Jorge?

Camalotes!

Excuse me.

I'm sorry, it's...

It's to him that... I owe everything. Understand?

Camalotes.

Excuse me, thank you. But...

Thank you really. Thank you for this gift you gave me.

Truly.

Bravo, Jose!

Thank you, Jose.

Gustave...! What's going on with you?

- Nothing... I'm eating! - No, but...

- The fondue, Gustave! - Oh no!

The salad.

Tell me... What's up, Gustave? Aren't you hungry?

My doctor said...

"No fat..."

- No, no! No fat! - Gustave...

But you know, it's your heart...

It's not the doctor's.

It's yours Gustave... You decide.

Here, Gustave. Have a bit.

Come on, have a bit.

OK, for you, I'll try it.

- But only tonight. - Accept! Open your mouth.

Go on... eat it!

Go on... eat!

Keep going, Gustave! Go on!

Take it... take it!

There... take it. That's the way!

Trust yourself... You can do it!

Wait, wait, I'm coming back.

I'm coming.

Shit! You scared me, Jose.

You speak Spanish?

- Yes, of course. - Are you from Spain?

No... Catalonia!

[Speaks Catalan]

I've lived in France for years. No one notices my accent.

It's good that you're here. I wanted to talk to you.

What about?

Your opinion... of Lucie!

What's wrong with Lucie?

What a wonderful woman!

What a personality! What character! What cleverness!

What a love for life!

You should see her during meetings.

She shines. She's our light.

She's our sun. She illuminates us.

You love her, don't you?

Yes.

I imagine how you felt, when you met her.

"What a miracle. I'm so lucky..."

"My happiness will never end"

But at the same time...

Fear.

"Will it last? Am I good enough for her?"

"Do I deserve such luck?"

The thing is...

...I would say... "No".

You don't deserve her.

But deep down... who deserves what? Right?

I hope that some day...

...providence will grant me at least one night...

...with a woman like her.

I tell you with all my respect and admiration...

Lucie is a spectacular woman.

- No? He said that to you? - Oh yes.

I should kill him.

Make him suffer.

Without mercy.

In the meantime, old chap, the one who's suffering...

...is you.

Yeah.

He's managed to do what he wanted... To terrorize you.

It's a game that kids play.

The oldest seduction game of the world.

Tell me, Jose, do you remember...

...what you did to seduce your first girlfriend at school?

- No. - No? Well I certainly remember.

I told her best girlfriend what I felt.

What's sweeter than feeling wanted? Nothing!

Vanity, Jose. Sheer vanity.

Love is the supreme vanity.

- Do you understand? - Yes. I don't know.

He introduced the most disgusting of traps...

...into a childish game. He talks about her to you, her husband!

This pig wants to fuck your wife and make you jealous...

...to destroy your relationship. Iago in the opera.

Casanova of the sandbox. No!

Motherfucker...! He won't win.

You have to be smart.

As smart as a dolphin, as silent as a spider...

...and as ferocious as a wolf. That's how to handle this brigand.

- Well, Jose? - OK.

Now, put on some music.

Smart as a dolphin...

...ferocious as a wolf, as silent as a spider.

Thank you, Gustave.

Do you know why we live in a shitty age?

Well, because people want to be reborn, but without dying.

They are afraid of dying.

But we don't live... without dying first.

True or not?

What do you think?

No one has anything to say?

No one dare's say anything?

You?

What do you think?

Yes.

I think you're right.

As you will have noticed, we relaxed the rules.

You know that here, in the group...

...people are only admitted, who have links created here.

But today, we have a special guest.

Jose, friend of Lucie, our source of wisdom,

...our Ishtar.

Welcome Jose.

Do you know why I agreed?

Because I really believe that Jose...

...has something... to teach us... on the subject.

Not true?

Yes, it's true.

Come on, stand up... Stand up and come to the middle.

Come on.

Come on, Jose. Come on! Come on!

- Jose, you can do it. Come on! - Yes, I heard.

Go on.

Come to the middle.

That's it.

So... Tell me, Jose, is it...

Excuse me...

Can I call you Jorge?

- Jorge. Go on, call me Jorge. - Alright, OK...

Tell me, Jorge, have you ever killed someone?

Yes.

But... Jose! It doesn't happen that way.

- Here you have to tell the truth. - No, no.

It's alright... It's quite OK.

It's fine. Leave it to me.

Leave it to me, Lucie. Trust me.

So, you've already killed someone.

How many times?

I don't know. I haven't kept count.

He hasn't kept count! He's nuts!

You're not making sense.

Please stop.

So tell me, Jorge...

...would you very much like to kill... me?

Yes!

With pleasure.

- What's he saying? - Bruno, too!

Let's do it then. Let's.

Go ahead!

This sufficient?

Yes, that will be sufficient.

Let's do a practice run then.

No one is allowed to intervene, OK?

Stay seated and do not intervene.

You're to stay seated, whatever happens. Especially you, Robert.

You don't interfere, eh? It's just a game, it's... eh?

No one intervenes.

Whatever happens... no one intervenes, eh?

Is that the way?

Jose...

Jose, stop. Please.

You have to stop, now!

- OK? - Deep breath!

But... Jose!

Adios, Jorge...!

Jorge...

Motherfucking...

As it turned out... he was as smart as a spider...

...as silent as a wolf... and as ferocious as a dolphin.

Lucie didn't come home that night... Nor the next day.

On the 3rd day, Agnes had seen her playing with Antonia...

...and leaving with some stuff.

A week later, they saw each other in a bar.

The next day she called... He didn't answer.

And, a few days later, he called back, she didn't answer.

Jose realised that it was a year since he'd drawn anything.

He dreamed of being back in print.

He drew Bruno.

He did some sexual drawings, that he destroyed, of Bruno and Lucie.

He put me in one of these drawings.

He started drawing orgies, involving Bruno...

...Agnes, Lucie and me.

The drawings were done mindlessly.

His hand was creating the catharsis that his brain was incapable of.

His drawings became evermore perverse and sent him into a liberating frenzy.

So you arrived late, with a bad excuse.

That's not an excuse.

- Did you follow that pig? - Yes.

He's a pig... and at the same time...

Yes, I know... At the same time, there's something about him...

A charm, that's... obscure.

Yes. Obscure's the word.

The power of darkness. The "noir"...

We all have a fascination for it.

For us, this piece makes us think of day breaking over the countryside,

...or drinks at the fireside.

But just imagine the life she had.

A perpetual night.

She didn't see a ray of sunshine in her life, this poor thing.

And yet...

It's weird.

Spit it out... What is it? What's on your mind?

About what you were saying about the night.

It's like something she said to me.

What?

That night is risk, danger... And I am the day.

That's just not it, my friend.

It's something else.

It's not "the day"... it's "the days"...

...that march past... single file... all the same.

The routine.

The sweetest spell that anyone can know.

Nevertheless, it gets a bad press.

Yes! Yes of course... you are a man of routine.

You are perfectly predictable.

You are like a mechanism that repeats itself ad infinitum.

But with precision, my friend! That's your charm!

That's where your power lies.

To always be equal to yourself.

To be as predictable as the hours of the day...

...and the seasons of the year.

My poor Jose, but...

What a treasure she's losing!

I'll let you in on a secret.

Do you remember the first time you were here?

You came to borrow that spade.

I had just learned terrible news.

I was devastated.

But... you appeared, you helped distract me,

Then you came back... we became friends...

And then I understood...

...that there was nothing that the passage of time can't solve.

That was the big lesson that you gave me.

And at each visit, the lesson repeated itself.

Each of your visits confirmed to me that routine is the great remedy.

The secret of happiness.

You were coming...

That's all.

That's sufficient.

- And now? - Now I have to leave.

We won't see each other for a while, maybe never again.

Why?

I'm going on a long trip.

A trip? Where to?

To New Orleans! Where else would I go?

To see where Bechet was born, before I die

Die?

What makes you think you can die?

Why?

Do you believe in eternal life?

No.

If the flowers...

that line the paths...

should all wither in the morn...

I'll keep close to my heart...

that one which...

lit up both your eyes.

When I loved you so...

in that lovely land...

...of our 16 springs.

Little flower of love...

You will always bloom...

...for me.

When life itself...

at times betrays me...

You remain my joy...

Little flower

Back in my twenties...

I pause for a moment

to breathe in

this scent that I've loved so much.

In my heart...

you will always bloom...

...in the garden of love...

...little flower.

I've put her to bed... It's done. She's asleep.

- Do you want to stay for dinner? - Yeah.

If you're inviting me, I'll stay.

It's a total mess.

There's no meaning behind it.

It's not saying anything.

No... it does!

Here... I'll show you

You'll see.

OK...

That's pretty true to life.

That's a mess... doesn't say anything...

But in the end, it says that it says nothing.

That says something.

You just have to... deal with the elements.

Where do you sleep, now?

At Mathilde's.

Not with Bruno?

No.

How are things going with you?

Well. Very well.

"Vurry wull"?

- You mean better than before? - What?

You mean better than before?

I'd say yes.

Are you happy we're separated?

Lucie, what do you think of routine?

Eh?

Are you afraid of routine?

Yes... Yeah!

I think it's beneficial.

And it's good to be someone who keeps to a routine.

Alright.

To be predictable is not bad. On the contrary.

It gives security.

It's like a mechanism which does the same thing over and over...

...and which reassures... because we always know what will happen.

Are you trying to "re-seduce" me with this?

What I want to say is, that...

...that routine gets a bad press, but it's not all that bad.

You get to know in advance...

...what will happen.

Even...

...without thinking about it.

Yeah... really!

I love you, Jose.

I think you are...

You're, you're very romantic, with...

...your routine thing!

They got back together just as quickly as they separated.

And, like magic, love has resurrected itself.

They've said little about their breakup and avoided asking questions.

But Jose did say to himself...

"She needs to know." He told her about the murders.

Am I allowed to laugh now?

At all of them, without exception.

And how, the next day, I came back to life.

He told her that after each murder

...she was in an excellent mood. They loved each other more than ever.

Lucie didn't take it seriously, she laughed.

Then she she began questioning him, endlessly, about every little detail.

Excuse me, but how can I be sure that you aren't completely crazy?

Of course, you can't.

Jose's story clearly had shortcomings.

She even put him to the test... she challenged him.

Choose... that... or that.

After a while, she gave in, she accepted.

As Bill Evans said about improvisation...

"something we don't understand, which is not understandable..."

"yet still makes sense."

His drawings, his life with Lucie, his daughter...

Everything had a new colour.

There's something new.

He's back.

What day is it?

Thursday.

Pretty flower...

Will you become flower of evil?

Or white rose placed

Sure of herself, bronzed

Golden, marbled

Pretty flower...

What have you done with your thorns?

Who is it steals your nectar?

Is it love's melancholy?

Or the ultimate bumblebee?

Little flower of my heart...

every day dries away...

your perfume.

Pretty flowers...

never ever fade...

least they wither away...

our battered souls'

Little flower...

that is your borrowed name...

Give back my heart...

You're just a flower of disdain

Pretty flower...

I'll weed for you always...

and water you every single day...

with water of disdain...

or the melancholy of love

Little flower of my heart..

Every day dries away

your perfume.

Pretty flowers...

never ever fade...

least they wither away...

our battered...

...souls.