All language subtitles for Comment (1978) eng

What we don't see
is what directs.

What is this?

Well, it's the look.

That's obvious!

Yes, but there is something
that's not obvious about that.

I don't know, we have
to imagine something.

It'll be the story of a guy.

Should i turn right?

No...

Oh yes, right.

And this guy get some news
from another guy.

The other guy is his father.

You turn right and then
we drive on straight.

Okay.

Then we turn right again and...

We go on straight.

We have to go all the way around.

Around the question!

...who gets some news
from somebody else...

...whom he didn't ask anything.

And the other guy talks to him
about a woman.

You know my father wrote to me
the day before yesterday.

I thought he didn't know your address.

I'd sent it to him anyway.

What did he want from you?

Nothing special.

He talks about his work,

that he had an argument,
that they're doing a newspaper.

Moreover it doesn't
interest me anymore.

Work is everything for him.

Not everybody is like that, so
everything's all right, isn't it?

Yes.

Exactly.

A woman he had a relationship
with during work...

- You said to go right?
- Yes, that's it.

Are you scared?

Yes, a little.

You know it's the first time
i've made love with a girl like you.

What's so different about me?

You don't talk much.

So it's no better than your father!

You see in your gestures...

...there's speech.

But... In the form of silence.

And i like that silence.

Turn right.

This guy writes to his sun that...

...he's communicated with a woman...

...at the place where they both work.

I'm turning right.

Are you sure you'd rather
not go to my place?

Yes, i'm sure.

He communicated with a woman,
he had a relationship with her.

A relationship of production.

You're ready?

Yes, yes. We can start.

Okay, start!

With the comrades,

we had decided to make
a little video film...

...in order to show
how the newspaper...

...and the printing press functioned.

Odette and myself had been
asked to produce it.

Odette was a former delegate
from the pro-socialist union.

She came from the computer
department of the Credit Lyonnais.

Every night after work,

we'd settle in the printing house's
basement to watch what we'd done

...without being bothered.

We said jokingly,

that it would be the first real
film of the Alliance of the Left.

At first, everything went smoothly.

But... What's happening?

Well, we cut here.

What do you mean "we cut here"?

Well, because we've decided to.

"We", who's "we" who decided to cut?

Listen, we cut here.

But there's something after,
so we don't see it?

We cut here.

It's incredible! We're in a
democracy, yes or no?

I want to see the whole thing
and then we'll decide...

...if we cut here or somewhere
else. Is that possible?

- Can we see the whole thing?
- I tell you that we cut here.

I want to see the whole thing
once, then we'll decide.

Okay then, if you want
to see the whole thing.

Go on!

At the central committee, they had
been very happy with my initiative.

It was the time of the big
newspaper strikes...

which workers resisted against
the violent attacks of the bosses.

It was becoming important
to show how the media worked

when they were at the hands
of the communists.

Information...

The hands and the eyes...

...were going to be scrutinized,

and all that because of a simple
photograph of Portugal...

...that the newspaper had published
along with a text that i'd done...

...which described the situation there.

...because the power is here,
not elsewhere...

In any case that seems to interest
you since you turned around!

Well, there was some noise.

Well, so the noise has no
relation to information?

When Vietnam made some noise
nobody turned around?

Yes, but here it's simply
a working conflict.

As a union delegate you've no right to
say that a working conflict is simple.

Then what was happening? Something
on Portugal was dictated at full speed

and i think that the speed has something
to do with the way news are given.

At least in a daily newspaper.

Well, enough is enough!

Let's watch what follows.

Work is also daily.

You see, kiddo...

even if we don't see each other
since you moved out of Paris,

I thought these things
would interest you.

Particularly as you have always
preferred manual labor.

You see, i'm beginning to see...

that what's wrong today
with manual labor...

is that it's intellectual
labor at first.

At first, it's writing.

Things aren't going well,

not going well at all.

- What do you mean?
- Yes, how isn't it going well?

How isn't this noise going well?

How aren't those hands going well?

I don't understand.

One says...

In Portugal things are fine, but
in France they aren't. Or...

In France things are fine,
but in Portugal they aren't.

One says "Things are fine at home"

But how things are for one or
for Portugal nobody ever says.

I don't understand.

Listen, what do you talk about
in this little video film?

I thought it was clear.

We wanted to show how
a newspaper is made.

- Not any newspaper!
- Of course not.

We wanted to show how information
is manufactured by us, communists.

Well perhaps before showing it,
you should look a little!

- That's what we're doing!
- Yes? And what do we see?

Well, a prime printing house.

Computer programmers.

Photocomposition.

Computer processing.

Yes, a modern information house...

for men and women who struggle
for an advanced democracy.

You don't even know
what a typewriter is.

Come on!

No, we don't know how it works.
We don't know any more...

A typewriter...

Normal programs on Radio
France from midnight on.

Soon a 7th government in Portugal...

for the moment State Secretaries
won't even sit in the parliament.

They feel that popular
pressure is too strong.

Okay. Well, what happened is that
we started again from scratch.

So you show us how
a typewriter works.

I don't know, we can
imagine something.

You know, when you dictated at
full speed something on Portugal?

So what?

We can start from there.
We can do it again.

What do you mean "do it again"?

Yes, replay it.
The two of us, here.

To see what happened.

Okay well, let's start.

The image of these
soldiers in uniform...

...already an army for the people...

Let's go slower, let's analyze it.

So "in uniform"...

...already an army for the people...

...whistling the Internationale...

...surrounded by 20,000 people...

...is going to weigh heavily
on the process.

- A delegate...
- Okay.

Let's stop here and see.

What?

See that...

That...

Hear it too...

We'll have to talk
about the noise too.

But what is unseen
is what directs.

- What's that?
- Well, it's the look.

- What's that?
- It's the look.

Well that's obvious.

Yes, but there's something that's
not obvious about all that.

What?

Read your text.

Yes, and then?

Wait, we are going to
watch my hands again.

In fact when you look carefully,
it's a funny job.

You don't notice
anything special?

With regard to what?

When you're reading your text.

Do it once again.

Cut it, will you!

We're looking, come on,
once again.

Your look was doing that.

My look was doing like your
hands if that's what you mean.

No, that's the point, it's my
hands that do like your eyes.

And hands aren't made to see.

Therefore it's a blind man's job.

In fact when you look carefully,
it's a funny job.

My hands go in all ways,
in all directions...

but it's as if there's one,

one which is the leader,

and what directs is the
meaning of a sentence.

Yes, it's as if i was blind,

and i was finding my way
through a straight corridor.

And every time i stumble,
it puts me back on the right path.

And i'm being watched.

The image of these
soldiers in uniform...

...already an army for the people...

...whistling the Internationale
surrounded by 20,000 people...

...would weigh heavily
on the process.

THE IMAGE OF THESE
SOLDIERS IN UNIFORM,

ALREADY AN ARMY FOR THE PEOPLE,

WHISTLING THE INTERNATIONALE...

I had decided to walk
back to the printer's.

Lights were still on in the
Communist Party's building...

where i had gone to say that
it was beginning to turn sour.

A MODERN PRINT AND INFORMATION
HOUSE FOR MEN AND WOMEN

WHO STRUGGLE FOR AN
ADVANCED DEMOCRACY.

I warned them that they'd find
themselves with a leftist film.

LANGUAGE ID THE PLACE

WHERE THE EXECUTIONER
TRANSFORMS THE VICTIM

INTO ANOTHER EXECUTIONER.

[???

No, that's not how it is and
you don't want to see how.

For Odette it was
still something else.

She hated in leftism what related
still to the Communist Party...

just as you can hate in a kid
what comes from his father.

Finally, it's because of her,

yes, because of that...

that i started thinking
of you again.

Well we'll have to talk
about noise again.

But what is unseen...

...is what directs.

What's that?

Well, it's the look.

What look did i give you when you
came out of your mother's cunt?

Probably we didn't
have any relationship,

maybe we had a lot.

But after all, between
children and parents...

how and with what love
is labor is distributed?

You see at the beginning,
there's not Portugal first...

and then the typewriter.

There is the typewriter first,

and then Portugal that enters
through this machine.

Yes, you say it enters,
but it exists too.

Okay but how does
it manage to get out,

how does it manage, Portugal?

How does it go from
entrance to exit?

That question at least can be asked:
how does it go from entrance to exit?

Shit! Since our power as journalists
lies here, not elsewhere...

neither in France, nor in
Portugal, but in between.

- You received my letter?
- Yes, i did.

So?

I don't know what to say.

I'm a little embarrassed.

- By what's in it?
- Yes.

When you talk about
my ass like that...

I don't know what to say.

It's not very easy to use
silence to communicate.

You say you like my silence
because there's speech in them.

But this speech
has to make noise...

when it's money or work
that's talked about.

Then i don't know how come.

And when we quarrel, i feel
we don't communicate.

All day long at work it's
impossible to talk about love.

And at night...

there's something else
again which's impossible.

Yes, i'm fine.

It's not enough to say i'm fine.

...the seriousness, even
the anxiety of this civilian.

One feels that they agree...

and at the same time
it's like a confrontation.

It's different from the images...

one is accustomed to see about
Portugal that one has seen...

- till now and where the crowd...
- Who's speaking?

A guy i know. Works at
Thomson Corporation.

...on the thesis that
they are happy to meet.

It seems to me that...

Listen, it's not me
you should stare at!

In fact they're raising their fist
against a third one who's absent,

or it could be against each
other, it's hard to say.

If i look at this photo...

i see a civilian with a rather...

violent expression which....

which causes the other
to raise his fist.

Then there seems to be...

a row of soldiers.
Some fists raised...

but it doesn't seem very collective.

One doesn't know what is
the relationship established.

I didn't find that what Odette
wanted to do was so dumb.

To start with an image...

just as science starts with atoms...

and see how it holds together.

In my opinion, she should've asked
the comrades of the joint production...

committee to work with them,

not people from the outside.

I say that, but in fact,

i know it's impossible.

A worker from the book industry
would never make a judgment...

on the novel he prints.

Nor would those of
a weapon factory...

say anything about the
weapons they make.

So what's the work about?

I don't know. There's
like a double reality;

solidarity and...

violence.

Odette has wanted to
talk about this image.

But for the guy who dictated
it, no interest, as usual.

So she had revolted,

and it was that revolt
that i had cut.

as if this revolt were
not part of the job.

...all this violence, all these...

As a matter of fact,
it was the job.

As little as if the soldier
was a mannequin...

and the guy gave his life.

That's a musician,

a piano teacher.

Yes, that's very interesting,

but there are too many silences.

All that should be cut.

Yes, the silence. You
must wring its neck!

Silence is embarrassing, isn't it?

So many means to communicate,

but no means to use them.

Power of the radio,

impotence of the listeners...

and as a result,
no work put into love,

no love put into work.

Odette was right:

if Portugal concerned
us in any way,

we should say where
it did concern us.

...the Portuguese "third way"
between socialism and communism.

During the Kissinger -
Brejnev dialogue,

Brejnev said that they wouldn't
interfere in the Portuguese situation,

and that Portuguese should
solve their problems themselves.

A French reaction:

We learned that some measures would
be taken against the wave of...

anti-communist violence in the north,
as well as the disagreements in the army.

I feel that everyone
wants to shout,

and that...

some people observe
who don't know...

What strikes me is the...

brutal gesture of the raised...

fist moving forward...

of the guy whose other hand...

grasps the soldier's fist...

and there is a double reality...

or the solidarity and violence.

Why the fuck is that
photograph here?

She said "try to remember"...

In fact i remembered very well.

"So why are you asking?'
she said.

Okay, it's a picture of the "Joint
Francais" factory on strike...

that we had heavily broadcasted
four years ago to support them.

But what's the relation
to Portugal? At first sight,

i didn't see and she
opened my eyes.

THREE WHAT?

To say Portugal had been
tried in France,

but it had been deformed.

On the same occasion,
but in another form.

Form, formation, formless.

LAUGHTER OR TEARS
WEAPONS

For the fascist leaders
it's very different.

Of course, there are
some difficulties.

The population still hasn't
responded to the problem.

In a similar situation,
would you shoot us?

Do you mind if i watch
a second time?

No.

There's some truth
in what you say.

But it's not clear.

Where do you want to go?

Several things can
already be seen.

In a newspaper, one
prints information, okay?

Okay.

How does it get printed?

With machines.

With printing machines
and by whom?

Hands...

The hands of the workers...

- Directed by what?
- A look.

...in the same way it
happened in Chile...

It's funny that a look
should be what directs.

...one receives images
but in fact...

You see when you look at this
image of Portugal for example,

that your eyes are going everywhere,
they go up and down, all over:

you wander...

So what?

If one had to define what
your head is doing,

it'd be something like drawing.

So what?

Then your hands don't draw because
they go in the same direction...

THE IMAGES OF THESE
SOLDIERS IN UNIFORM

ALREADY AN ARMY FOR THE PEOPLE
WHISTLING THE INTERNATIONALE

Don't you think
it's philosophy?

No.

Maybe not.

What you mean is i do like that.

To look...

Like that...

To say what's in it.

Yes but in fact you don't say it.

Because you're led by the movements of
the hands you placed on the typewriter.

And you forget what you've seen.

- No, i don't forget at all.
- Anyway you don't rely on it to think.

To think?

I was beginning to see why...

she wished to bring together
these two photographs.

Just to think.

Simply to bring together two
simple images. Simple...

Simple because they
show simple people.

Who, however, because
they dare revolt,

begin something complex.

And if one could see that hope
was still searching for words,

despair had already found them.

Yes, to begin to think
that with our pencils,

we probably had erased as much
and more than we had written.

Even when...

we thought we were writing.

Do you remember that too?

Those beautiful blue eyes
blurred by indignation.

That's what we said at the time
of the "Joint Francais" affair.

TO GO ON STRIKE, THAT'S JOY.

But when one looks carefully,

that mouth really
seemed to laugh.

But when one looks carefully,

when one removes the 4 letters
"reve" of the word "greve",

when courage has failed,

one should have the
courage to say...

that it wasn't courage,
but weakness.

Odette asked me if i knew
how to read between the lines.

I said "Not very well".

she said it was a huge failure,
because the counter-revolution...

knows very well.

It creeps between two sentences
exactly as in phone conversations,

where in order to
double the traffic,

the telephone engineers
place a conversation...

into the silences of another.

Instead of tiring yourself
in shouting for 50 years...

"Death to fascism! ",

you would have done better
to shout Shannon's theorems.

See, a text that won't do.

She added: "Do you have
any idea how it happens?'

On Wednesday,
you shouted at Marian,

because she didn't stop
making mistakes.

This is what she'd written:

"But how come?', you wondered,
"She's a good girl".

It happens that she
was trying to decide...

if she would keep her baby,

or get an abortion.

And she was on her 6th week.

And this urgent problem doubled
with your 7PM issue to be finished.

And that was happening because
her hands were getting mixed up.

That's an image "that weighs
heavily on the process".

If she could have seen the image
to rest her hands and rely on it,

she would have made
fewer mistakes...

for herself and for you journalist.

For Odette, objectivity
had become a crime.

Criminals, those who were paid
to give news about the others...

without talking about them.

Criminals, those who
speak about them...

without using the other's voice.

A strike takes place for
silence, i knew it.

so when i had talked about
the "Joint Francais" or "Lipp",

why didn't i go on
a speech strike?

Why? Because in fact,
under the cover of the other's,

it's your speech that you sold.

Your crime was to
keep your place

while putting yourself
at the other's...

Your crime was to keep your place
while putting yourself at the other's.

You journalist trash.

You journalist trash.

The speed with which my desire
represented another's....

all that ended in making noise.

But there is also...

the wall of images,

that transforms itself
into a wall of silence.

Noise of silence...

Silence before the storm...

Storm before the night...

Fascist night...

Deformation, information...

WHEN IT'S THE AGE OF DARKNESS
WILL THERE STILL BE SONGS?

It's true that i didn't know
how to answer this question.

Say it, all that you know is
that in the age of darkness,

one will sing the song of darkness.

And the words? Look:

There's never an "either/or".

Never one problem
and two solutions.

Always two problems
and one solution.

There must never be
"equal labor, equal wages".

On the contrary, there
must be "unequal labor..."

"equal wages".

There isn't a
"problem of the couple".

There are two problems.

A male problem and
a female problem.

And one solution.

One solution.

One solution.

There's one photo-problem
and one text-problem.

One solution, one newspaper.

One information.

There's no choice
between day and night.

Live or die; you don't
have the choice.

The only choice is
that there is none.

He seems to be crying.
He cries...

The other is almost crying.

You say fascism.

But if the gun is me for instance,

well fascism is also
the two together.

That's because you
haven't seen anything.

You saw nothing at '68,
nothing at Hiroshima.

Because your hands ended
in directing your eyes.

You see nothing because it's already
written, you don't see Vietnam.

You don't see unemployment,
you don't see women.

Your eyes do what
your hands should do.

And it's tragic because
it's not manual labor.

When Marian gets back home,
she will even be happy...

to do the laundry or wash
the dishes, to touch her kid.

At least her hands escape
and find a meaning.

Not a great one, but
at least it's something.

You can't, you're a journalist
but you can't see, you won't see.

Even if you wanted to,
you couldn't see anymore.

How does it get printed in one's
memory and how does it do?

What it does is to direct your life,
always in the same direction.

In fact you're afraid to see this
picture of Portugal, it scares you.

This guy seems a little crazy.

Is he were a pop singer you'd accept
quite well his mouth and gestures,

maybe a little clumsy
but rather handsome.

After having told a worker
to go on strike,

would you dare to dance with
him because he obeyed you?

But why don't you say what this
photograph might remind you of?

You, not anyone else.

I, reader, who receives it
thanks to you, journalist,

I need a text which would
help me to know where i am.

You, however, are scared
to see where you are.

And i think that when
one is scared,

it's because one is scared
to lose one's place.

It seems really aggressive.

Pressing on a piece of paper
that cuts all the noise...

Lights were still on at
the Central Committee.

They chewed me out.

I walked back to the newspaper,
thinking about this German writer,

who said: "What's wrong isn't that
the world is sad, but that it's big".

There's a photo...

on Portugal...

and a text all around it.

You see,

i did what i'd been told.

I made up an excuse...

to call for a meeting of the
joint production committee...

to try to put her in the minority
through a democratic vote.

...at the newspaper, a photograph
cannot be published without text.

I'd like to talk about that,
right now for instance.

I think that they
hadn't got it at all,

but something had touched them.

Maybe Odette had a loose screw,

but she had loosened them up.

...between the soldiers
and the people...

there is solidarity and
violence at the same time.

That's not the point, the contrast
is trying to see why...

you systematically bring
back the ambiguity,

if you've the photo alone
and with he text as well.

This ambiguity inevitably needs
to be explained by text.

The text doesn't explain the photo.

There's written: "Porto, September '22,
demonstration of 10,000 soldiers...

who joined 10,000 people
marching in the street.

The photograph has nothing
to do with this text.

The person who did this article
put it there for another reason.

And there's no explanation for it.

With a certain type of text,

you can perfectly reduce it
to one or two sentences.

You would reconstruct,
starting with the photograph.

As soon as they move,
photographs become cinema.

It's funny, i was struck by
the sincerity of those guys

as well as their
enormous stupidity.

That's not their fault.

As soon as they expressed an
idea, they were over their heads.

No, not their fault.

They should've watched TV,

Iistened to the radio,
read the newspaper...

Therefore it was their
fault all the same.

After a while, i started to
Look at the photographs,

published here and
there, left and right...

which Colette had collected
as documentation.

...a text that would be
too long to develop.

You should therefore work
your text and your photo...

in a way that's totally related.

Totally related.

Relations between men...

go through relations
from man to woman.

...at this moment you say the photo
is commenting on the text...

in a way that allows you to
speak about this commentary...

at the same time about the
way it happens to comment.

Don't you think that the reader will
comment on the photo by himself...

even if the text
is a little different?

What do you mean?

Then, you entered the corridor.

Your mother's cunt.

Several months late you
came out of this corridor.

The tunnel, the canal.

Your mother had received a signal.

How does she communicate it?

How does it go in and
out of the machine?

The reproduction machine...

The machine to make copies,
you a copy of me.

But maybe your mother has
made mistakes in copying.

Maybe, even surely, she
transmitted information...

that she shouldn't have.

Your reasoning is
what interests me.

Really, when i see this photo that
was made in Portugal by someone,

I'd like that person to speak about
the moment the picture was taken,

and why this picture
and not another.

...i don't think we can make it
without speaking of the one...

who looks at the photograph
announces where he's looking from.

Information, deformation, fascism.

The formidable energy released
by revolutionary Europe.

The image which more than one
German person dreams about at night.

The image which more than one
German person dreams about at night.

The image which more than one
German person dreams about at night.

He doesn't see anything because
he doesn't want to see.

Because one could perfectly
well see nothing.

...that would be the relationship of the
reader to the reading of a newspaper.

Here you don't account for the reader.

You had deformed my image.

What would i do now?

...proposing to slow down
at one given moment...

and making a mistake.

It has to be the people who complain
that everything goes too quickly.

For instance, i've never seen a journalist
not complaining that it's going too fast.

Well if you tell him
instead of writing...

40,000 words, write only 30,
you'll have more time.

He doesn't want to
because it's more tiring.

Yes, one makes relationships
rather than one truth.

Spain '36,

don't read "to die on one's feet
instead of living on one's knees".

Because to wash all the
blood shed by Franco,

the Spanish people will have to go
on their knees like a cleaning lady.

Spain '75. The reign of the uniform.

Was it worth it to chop off
the king's head in '89?

Thanks to ITT, the uniform
reigns in Chile too.

Algeria '56, if the Communist Party
abstains from voting to dispatch soldiers,

say it abstains from commenting
on this image and say it at once.

Yes, a few words. Which ones?

Hi, how are you doing?

How are you not doing?

Step by step...
Directing my life...

How does it get printed
in my memory?

Which printer...

You journalist trash!

That's true, as a printer, i had
become the king of true things,

instead of saying and showing
how things really are.

Well yes, i've told many stories,

but never how i was part of the
story, of history. As a result...

How do you go from
one place to another?

How does a "page 2" follow?

It's a strike at the
Renault car factory.

The 376 workers from the
big press who went...

on strike March 21st
provoked a reaction.

One print's one's point of view,
it's not philosophy, it's biology.

Come on!

No, you won't see how
it's not coming on.

From Renault to Palestine...

From night to day...

From night to day,
from love to work...

Where does all this
happen? With us.

Yes, this "us" is here indeed...

when i'm writing that
Portugal concerns us.

Odette had taped the discussion.

And we watched with a slight
feeling of an end of something.

Or a beginning.

Or both.

Suddenly i decided
to support Odette,

and to face the political bureau,

which as i knew from a friend
of the central committee...

had already decided to do everything
to stifle our little enterprise.

Little?

Maybe not so little.

Ultimately,

what was Odette saying,

with this little video film?

That the TV and the press
were rotten...

and since we watched it
and read it...

that our eyes are rotten,

and our mouths and our hands.

In short it was cancer,

and we had it first we didn't say so.

We didn't say so because
we didn't know.

We didn't know because
we didn't want to.

We didn't want to
because we couldn't.

We couldn't because
we didn't show.

We didn't show because
we didn't want to.

We agreed to show
advertisements saying that...

"something's happening every second
in the Galleries Lafayette store".

We didn't say what...

because we had sold our silence too.

So this is the result,

nothing gets through in
love letters anymore.

A blind love like
vacation postcards.

You remember this Czechoslovakian
hand writing:

"chains of humanity are made
with the paper of bureaucrats".

And technique today...

is the violent activity of the knowledge.

The image of these
soldiers in uniform...

Do it once again.

Cut it, will you!

We're looking, come on,
once again.

Your look was doing that.

My look was doing like your
hands if that's what you mean.

No, that's the point, it's my
hands that do like your eyes.

And hands aren't made to see.

Therefore it's a blind man's job.

In fact when you watch closely,
it's a funny job.

They go in all ways, my hands,
in all directions,

but it's as if there's one,

one which is the leader,

and what directs is the
meaning of a sentence.

Yes, it's as if i was blind,

and i was finding my way
through a straight corridor.

And every time i stumble,
it puts me back on the right path.

And i'm being watched.

And i'm being watched.

What directs is the
meaning of a sentence.

He doesn't see anything because
he doesn't want to see.

Because one could perfectly
well see nothing.

Business is a daily
death sentence.

The meaning of a sentence...
Work is freedom.

We have the right to work.

We have the right to freedom.

That falls without saying.
No one recovers.

It's said that telexes
"fall" on the teleprinter.

Spain, Vietnam, Chile, Palestine.

And behind, you and me.

To inform, to disguise, to deform,

with such news,
always past history...

to us and we're happy
for that anyway,

unless it becomes Vietnam,
Chile, Palestine, Ireland, etc.

While the comrades were still
arguing before the vote,

we'd gone in the office next door,

to continue this little video film, we
had two votes that were surely for us,

Michel and myself and Odette.

Then the others;

Paul maybe,

Isabelle certainly not.

For Christine, Odette said no,

i said yes.

Claude, probably yes,
Jean Pierre, no.

For Paul, impossible to know.

Jose, no. Francis, no.
Mario, yes or no.

Hector, yes. Jacques, no.

The evening came and finally,

the committee decided unanimously
to finish this little video film,

and then to fight
for its distribution.

Well, you happy now?

Everything's settled.

What's wrong with you?

You look glum.

Anyway it's gonna go back
to the big bosses and...

it'll surely be put down.

What did we finally try to say
in this little video film?

Anyway, it'll be put down.

It won't.

It will, i tell you it will.
I know them, it will.

I tell you it won't.
No need to worry.

It won't.

It won't. That's all.

It'll be like fascism.

What, what fascism?

Don't you know fascism?

The evening came.

A young guy from the committee
whom i'd never seen before...

came to bring the directions.

Absolute veto.

Odette had sneered,

and i had tried to argue
a little as was foreseen.

Besides Francis and Juliet,

everybody else had chickened out.

A long silence still full of
work set up in the office...

after everybody had left.

We still took a few notes.

I proposed to go to dinner
to get our strength back.

And i invited her.

All this was just a beginning.

But she refused.

The winter holidays were beginning

and she had to prepare
her daughter's things,

she was leaving for holiday camp.

She said we'd see each other
again after the holidays.

She wanted to think about all that.

Maybe she would finish the little
video film somewhere else,

sine it was definitely impossible
here, despite wordy promises.

Then i never saw her again.

Turn down the volume!

The neighbor is freaking
out over the radio!

Are you alright?

Half past five this morning,
Franco is dead.

You don't want to
see how i'm not!

Flags face the windows...

No, it's not going well, but
you don't want to see how.

A numerous and silent crowd
with several women in tears...

A FILM BETWEEN
ACTOR AND SPECTATOR

A FILM BETWEEN
ACTIVE AND SPECTATOR

A FILM BETWEEN
ACTIVE AND PASSIVE