Original subtitles

NUMBER 2/ TITLE TESTS

MY, YOUR, HIS IMAGE

MY, YOUR, HIS IMAGE SOUND

MY, YOUR, HER IMAGE

There was a landscape

and they put a factory in it.

It would be like saying that in Marseille right now,

and in the building trade, everyone is being laid off.

It would be like saying that at Rhône-Poulenc,

and in the chemical industry as a whole,

women's fingers are being eaten by acids.

There was that. There was a factory

and, all of a sudden, there was a landscape.

NUMBER TWO

AT THE START

The delegate reads other people's words

to jog his memory. But I think it's the paper

that gives orders. And that is what's wrong.

Do you remember what's-his-name?

I think what's-his-name

is with the State Department in Washington now.

I think he ended up as the consul in Jakarta.

Last time we saw him was at a demo in Toulouse.

The cops turned up and we never saw him again.

Here though, it's simple.

There are no more men now, just machines.

Man, machine. Me and machines.

Men, women, machines.

What is this place?

It's a library.

Where are the books?

There aren't any. This is a printworks.

We print.

We don't print paper.

Paper - that's what we call money.

Drafts that are passed between banks.

We call that pushing paper.

But we don't do that here, we print.

Well is it a printworks?

No, it isn't a printworks because we read books.

In biology, this room Is a factory. You could say it's a factory.

The body is a factory. This room is a factory.

I listen to the machine.

The machine's going faster.

Can you hear? The machine is going slower.

And I am the boss.

But I'm a special kind of boss

because I'm also the worker.

And I'm not alone as a worker. We've taken power.

The others? I'll tell you about them. They're here working.

I listen to the noise of the factory.

I was ill for a long time and that made me think

about the factory.

I'd say what's wrong here is,

there's too much DNA, not enough RNA.

We learn it in school.

You can't ever use what you learn in school.

It's a pain in the ass.

The government has closed half the schools in the area.

They shove us into school and teach us useless things.

If I say "DNA, biology" to you,

you wonder what I'm on about.

I'm talking about you and your program.

I wanted to tell you something.

To talk about literature.

If I did literature, I'd tell you that the government...

The government programs people

with methods so transparent, you can see through them.

It's easy to follow the thread. The workers,

the workers' children,

they go to school, and after school, to the factory.

It's all the same.

That's what I mean by transparent. You'll say it's wordplay.

In democracies, the problem is, and it doesn't surprise me anymore,

puns are unacceptable in a sense.

They are only acceptable in society. People see them as a waste of time.

But a pun is a word slipping on something.

It's language. And, after all, it was love that taught us language.

It slips. It explains

short-circuits, interferences and things.

Wordplay is used to cure illnesses, so it isn't a waste of time.

They say it's complicated, that we talk and talk.

It's things that are complicated.

But pain is simple.

Take a machine.

It goes fast, it goes slow.

My hand does too.

My hand is a machine that controls another machine.

Maybe it's the opposite.

This is a factory.

In other factories like this, things are different.

This is a factory.

There are others: One in Los Angeles called Fox-Metro,

one in Moscow called Mosfilm.

And there's one in Algiers.

Algerian National Cinematography.

And there's a big multinational that makes programs.

We'll talk about all that. Maybe we'll talk about it,

or about information

and where the crime is committed in information.

Georges showed up here one day.

I hadn't seen him for fifteen years.

He saw all the machines and said to me, "Jeannot,

"you have to do something with all these machines."

I said, "Georges, be honest, you need money."

He said yes.

I said, "That's perfect.

"I need money too, to pay for these machines.

"We can't listen to one another, but we can agree.

"We can't pull a fast one, but we can have a quick one."

We went next door to the bus station bar.

The owner says hello every morning. He says, "All right, Mr. Jean?"

I like that.

He says, "Isn't this better than Paris?"

I say, "Yes."

The fact of the matter is,

it took me about forty-five years to enter and leave Paris.

The capital.

Capital. Capital letters.

To be smaller,

softer, sweeter.

They don't leave you. I mean, forty years,

that's half the 100 Years War, twice the Spanish War.

It's significant.

Georges and I discussed it. Then he said, "I'll get the money."

- "How?" I said - He replied, "I don't know."

"I'll push some papers.

"I'll discount some drafts."

He says he doesn't like to hassle people for cash.

But he enjoys it.

Then he said, "You'll produce." He has no idea!

We discussed it then went to the airport.

He took the plane to Paris.

He said, "Don't worry, Jean.

"I'll get you 600,000 francs. I'll make it happen.

"You'll have what you need."

He took the plane. Paris Match would have written:

"It was a cold November morning.

"The plane's tires screeched on the tarmac.”

But no literature. Money, business, beauty.

AT THE START

And 300,000 kilometers from here,

what am I saying, 20,000 kilometers from here

- 300,000 light years maybe, but 20,000 kilometers -

the Vietcong already thought about Saigon.

And three meters from here in this factory,

things had to be produced.

But what had to be produced?

And to go where?

Never again!

- Always! - Never again!

Never again!

THERE WILL BE

The Dutch are on the offense. Johann Cruyff is tackled.

Cruyff is weaving his way through!

Penalty! I think Mr. Taylor has awarded a penalty

to the Dutch team.

NUMBER TWO

Saigon changes name. The PRG takes over.

It is no longer provisional but is meant to be revolutionary.

Cambodia: Where are the 635 refugee who left the French embassy

about twenty-four hours ago?

Paris: The traditional May Day rally.

THIS SCREEN

At 3pm, Place de la Nation,

tens of thousands of protestors gathered

for the May Day rally.

It was led by trade union chiefs

and representatives of the Socialist and Communist Parties.

Banners and slogans mentioned the two main themes:

united union action and the fight for wages and work.

May Day is still the symbol of unity.

It is the voice of the working classes.

The Dragon's Rage.

For their immediate demands and to promote...

What does May Day mean in the current economic climate?

The May Day rally is a people's protest.

A demonstration of our will to fight.

The biggest internal conflict ever.

But we have to go much further.

Otherwise hundreds of thousands of young people

will be unemployed by the summer.

The crisis will only get worse and everyone will pay.

It's unacceptable.

May Day indicates the desire for struggle

and for unity.

Peace.

It is unprecedented in a May Day rally

to see conscripts in uniform with their faces masked.

WORK

SHIT

Apart from the Revolutionary Communist League,

which joined the unions,

the leftwing movements held their own rally.

Keep your eyes peeled.

Our next show is more daring

than anything previously seen.

There were several thousand protestors.

EQUALITY

LIBERTY

This film, Number Two, shows all of this.

Unbelievable things.

Things in close-up.

Ordinary things.

Shitty things and pleasurable things.

Where does it happen?

You heard Mr Séguy and Mr. Maire.

Head of France's third largest union, André Bergeron...

Pleasure is complicated.

I think so anyway.

I think pain is simple,

but not pleasure.

Still possible.

I think unemployment is simple.

Not pleasure.

And you see,

when you find pleasure in being unemployed,

it leads to Fascism.

Number Two.

This film is not left or right,

but before and behind.

in front are children.

Behind is the government.

The children of the homeland.

Of the homeland.

In school you learn it's a factory.

When shooting this scene, Ingmar Bergman decided...

Cinema is a factory, too.

A factory that manufactures images.

Like television.

There was once an image.

There were once two images.

There was twice a sound.

There were once two sounds.

Number one and number two.

Number Two.

A film by Anne-Mane Mieville and Jean-Luc Godard,

with Sandrine Batistella, Pierre Audry and others.

Number Two Coming to this screen soon.

And this screen is on a wall.

What do you think this wall is between?

No more politics.

No more stars.

More suspense than you have ever seen!

SOON

Another political film?

It's not politics,

it's sex.

No. it's not sex,

it's politics.

So is it about sex or politics?

Why is it always either/or?

It can be both sometimes.

Sometimes.

Which times?

We always say,

"There was once."

Why don't we ever say, "There was twice"?

This film, you see,

is called Number Two.

What does it talk about?

Talk, talk.

You can listen sometimes.

You can watch.

You see, Number Two,

AND IT'S DIFFICULT

is a film you can watch.

Watch peacefully.

Watch what?

You don't always need to go far.

There's quite a lot to see.

Where you are, at work.

Have you ever looked at your sex?

Has anyone seen you look at it?

Honestly,

far from advertising and adventure films.

For instance,

have you ever asked yourself

whether Dad was a factory or a landscape?

And what about Mum? Is she a landscape or a factory?

I think she's a factory.

I don't know.

Maybe an electricity plant.

Charging and discharging.

And it hurts.

So you play music.

The Pleasure Seekers.

What's the music for?

To see the unbelievable.

What's the unbelievable?

The unbelievable is what you don't see.

BEFORE I WAS BORN, I WAS DEAD

REPRODUCTION

ADJUSTMENT

Why are you hovering, Vanessa?

Find something else to do.

What's wrong?

Will I bleed between my legs when I'm big?

Yes.

But be careful of guys.

They're hard work.

Sometimes I think it's pretty, Mummy and Daddy,

sometimes I think it's poo.

FACTORY

Here.

Do all little girls have a hole?

Yes.

Is that where the bath water goes?

Of course.

Where does it go?

It goes away.

Into the landscape.

And there's a factory now in the landscape.

Arithmetic and recitation.

5 + 3 = 8

4 + 9 =

13.

Recitation.

"We wanted to play tag.

"Then we wanted to play

"stuck-in-the mud.

"But we couldn't.

"Who was "it"?

"Someone who...

"knows absolutely nothing. He was hungry."

FACTORY

"He was lost."

Let's put Uncle Pinelli's song on.

It's his birthday today.

Come and dance with me!

No, I'm eating.

Come and dance!

- No, I'm eating. - All right!

Vanessa!

Come and dance with Mummy.

"Anarchy isn't a bomb, it's justice and freedom."

He was killed for being a comrade.

Nicolas, look at me!

And yet...

NUMBER ONE

She was afraid of him.

She had sold him

eight years earlier.

And he appeared to know.

But he wouldn't have hurt her.

He was crazy about her too.

I believe they were determined to kill anyone who bothered her.

The game was worth the candle.

This type of sport cannot go on indefinitely.

She tried to settle her score with me.

Up in my apartment.

Her gun was empty.

She should have killed me at the same time as him.

He loved her.

NUMBER TWO

Even though she hadn't written to him for six years.

She hadn't gone to see him in prison.

But she turned him in to the police.

To get the reward.

As soon as he got out,

he got himself some smart clothes

and started looking for her.

And by way of welcome,

she put five bullets in his belly.

He himself had committed two murders,

but he loved her.

What funny times!

You see, Nicolas,

this is good paper. - What would you know?

I just do. Look.

I light it.

It burns.

It's all gone.

That's the other paper.

There's still some of it left.

See?

And what are you?

Good or bad paper?

The city was too big so we left.

My childhood was impossible.

The government has closed half the schools in the area.

What's your job like?

You never mention it.

I do.

I'm at Beyer.

You're still with them?

I'm in the factory now.

Me too. What do you do there?

I test microphones.

Apparently my voice has a good response curve.

What's that?

I check the advertising copy too.

- In that? - Yes.

Look, that's something I have to check.

"The dummy head recording technique will mainly be used

"for studio recordings.

"Recordings of radio plays

"and interviews also provide Interesting acoustic effects.

"It would be good If the person wearing the microphone

"could also speak.

"The listener will hear his own voice in his head."

I don't understand.

I know.

Nicolas, hurry up! Vanessa!

I had children with her.

No one asks questions.

I never fuck her. It's forbidden.

I'm fine with that.

I fuck my wife.

But it's all wrong.

Thanks, boss.

Where does it happen?

THE NIGHT

Shit, it's blocked again!

The plumbing in social housing is terrible!

- Can I piss in here? - Yes, go ahead.

Do you want to do it tonight?

I dunno. We'll see.

Thanks, boss.

What is it now?

You heard me.

I love your cock.

But it's always you who decides!

It's hard work.

Yeah, I know. It's shit.

I can't even get a hard-on when I want to.

You're so full of shit!

Come on, Sandrine.

It's the same when you have your period.

You're such a bastard!

Things have to change.

But where does it happen?

That?

Do you want a hand?

No thanks, it's OK.

Why don't you ever want me to help you?

I can do it on my own.

When it's a question of us spending time together,

you never want to.

It's not about being together. You're just bored.

You want me to occupy you.

There are other guys, you know!

That's typical of you!

Something terrible happened.

Sandrine had fucked another guy.

She refused to say who.

I wanted to rape her.

She let me, so I fucked her in the ass.

She started screaming.

Afterwards we realized Vanessa had been watching.

Family affairs, I suppose.

- Have you worked it out? - No.

I forget what the demonstrator said.

It can't be that hard.

Just put this on prewash cycle 2.

Then put it on wash cycle 4.

And then rinse cycle 7.

There you go.

And here, you select 2A, 2B, 4D,

6E, 8A.

Or maybe 3A, 2D, 2C,

9A, 8E, 7A. There you go.

You know what you're doing?

No, I was just trying to help.

You don't have a clue! It'd help me if you shut your mouth.

See you!

THE RIVER

Why is it always like this?

I can see parts of you that you never see.

What about me?

I'm talking about you!

My mouth replaces your eyes.

I don't see.

I do.

You, you, you, you!

Tell me since you can see!

Well, your body,

it's like a river.

This is the river here.

These are the sides of the river.

And around it, there are the banks.

I'm in the river and on the bank.

And I like that.

We talk of the river's violence, bursting its banks,

but never of the banks' violence, hemming in the river.

What's the result?

It makes me see your violence.

Can I look too?

You see, Pierre, I look at you face on.

You go off every morning.

You walk out the door.

I'm not criticizing, no.

But I've got no work.

And when you leave,

I see your ass.

Your ass going off to work.

You know,

that's a part of yourself you never see.

In the evening,

I have to look at you.

I have to look at you face-on when you come home.

And facing me is your cock.

Not your ass.

You Know, I reckon

you should make love your job.

Don't talk crap!

I mean it.

If we were rich,

I would pay you for it.

But we're not.

That's right.

We're not.

We're not.

CHILE

I'm looking for work.

I'm looking for work.

I'm looking for work.

I'm looking for work.

I'm looking for work.

- Hello, Mrs. Batistella. - Hello!

There's a tenants' meeting tonight.

No, really.

I've no time for meetings and I'm not at all interested.

But it's of interest to women.

To some maybe, but not to me. I really don't think so.

I'll give you a leaflet anyway. You can read it.

All right. Just to make you happy.

Do try and come though.

Ok, I'll try. But I'm not promising anything.

It doesn't interest me at all and I have other things to do.

- Well, try to make an effort. - OK. Thanks. Goodbye.

"Every day they walk down the corridor

"from their cells to the toilet,

"in single file, holding the shoulder of the woman in front,

"and blindfolded. They have no right to see.

"They try to walk straight, proud, despite the obscene jeers

"from the guards, who trip them up for fun.

"They have to relieve themselves

"in record time

"While their voyeuristic guards make remarks.

"They return in silence, fondled in passing

"by the soldiers who beat and torture them.

"Other women exist. "

I do too.

- Hello, darling. - Hello, love.

Keep scrubbing!

Give me your foot.

When you sleep together, does Dad touch your breasts?

Sometimes.

Does he like it or do you?

We both do.

But not in the same way.

And sometimes it hurts.

I still like it though.

Move your foot.

When you sleep together, can I come and watch?

Maybe. We'll see.

It would be good to only know people when they are available

In the pale hours of night.

I'm sick of this!

You cause trouble, we row and then you disappear!

With men's problems. Quite simply.

Problems of melancholy.

What's wrong? Upset I called you a whore?

I'll say it again! You're a whore, a slag!

Right, listen.

Let's just stop this.

Let's calm down and try to be reasonable.

Did you fucking hear me? Listen to me!

Listen to me! Look at me.

We can't go on like this. I said, listen to me!

Listen!

Stop this!

People.

It would be good to only know them when they are available.

In the pale hours of the night.

By a slot machine.

With men's problems.

Quite simply.

Problems of melancholy.

Here, I found this.

I don't want to.

I can put it up you if you don't want to do it.

Listen, Sandrine.

- That's just it. - What do you mean?

It's my kitchen, my children, my ass.

It's too full.

You're right. But you still have to shit.

It's more complicated than that.

The thing is, Pierrot...

Oh, I don't know.

It reminds me of filth.

What are you on about?

Right, I have to go.

Yeah right, go! Your boss is expecting you.

That's typical of you.

Not my boss, my mates. They're on strike.

I don't see the difference.

Right, bye. See you later.

Why aren't you in bed?

Mom, are you sad?

Dad can be so mean.

I'm here for you.

- Can I have some cheese? - If you like.

Do you know what shit means, Nicolas?

Yes.

Well I haven't had a shit in two weeks.

I came home.

I was beside myself.

Absolutely beside myself.

And I was still charged up.

I came home.

I was beside myself.

Absolutely beside myself.

And I was still charged up.

So I discharged.

No wonder I'm mad.

I show my flower.

I discharge.

Sandrine?

Vanessa? Nicolas?

Aren't Vanessa and Nicolas here?

They're playing outside.

Let's caress one another.

Go away, Pierrot.

Go away!

If you don't get on with a man,

Shut the door!

you can always leave him.

But what can you do when the state,

the social system, is raping you?

FRATERNITY

Nicolas, come and see!

You wanted me to show you.

See this? They're lips. My sex lips.

See here, it's a kind of mouth.

And with this mouth,

you kiss your lover's sex lips.

Understand?

And when we make love,

He puts his sex's mouth

in the lips of my sex

as if we were kissing,

as if we were talking.

So it's silent?

Yes.

It's called love.

Love teaches us to talk.

And when it's all over,

Death put its finger to its lips

and tells us to be quiet.

Right, it's time for school.

Goodbye!

Women do not realize how much men hate them.

Punished, punished

for being the object of hatred, through her orifices,

her mouth and cunt,

poor Tralala.

Women never commit sexual crimes

even when they are enacted upon the bodies of men.

The male perversion of violence

is an essential condition of the degradation of women.

Women cannot be liberated from their impotence

by the gift of a gun,

although they are equally capable of firing them as men are.

Men are tired of having all the responsibility for sex,

it is time they were relieved of it.

The vagina must come into its own.

It's worth repeating.

The female attitude to violence is inseparable from this problem.

Most women do not actually feel any activity of their ovaries

or womb until they go wrong.

As they nearly always do.

MAYBE

What are you doing tonight?

I don't know.

Babies do not go towards things supposed to please them,

like for example, toys.

Neither are they interested in fairy stories.

They seek to render themselves independent of adults

in all the actions they can manage on their own;

manifesting the desire not to be helped,

except in cases of absolute necessity.

They are seen to be tranquil and absorbed in their work,

acquiring a surprising calm and sincerity.

Given the difficulty of marriage

as a way of life,

and the even greater difficulty of spinsterhood,

happiness must be seen by women as an achievement.

The greatest service a woman can do her community

is to be happy.

The degree of revolt and irresponsibility

which she must manifest to acquire happiness

is the only sure indication of the way things must change

if there is to be any point In continuing to be a woman at all.

The degree of revolt and irresponsibility.

The sun shines only to burnish her skin;

The wind blows only to bring color to her cheeks;

the sun strives to bathe her;

flowers die gladly

so that her skin may luxuriate in their essence.

She is the crown of creation, the masterpiece.

The depths of the sea are ransacked

for pearl and coral to deck her.

Baby seals are battered,

unborn lambs ripped from wombs,

millions of moles, squirrels, minks,

ermines, foxes, beavers, chinchillas,

ocelots, lynxes and other creatures die untimely deaths

that she might have furs.

Egrets, ostriches and peacocks yield her their plumage.

Men risk their lives hunting leopards for her coats,

and crocodiles for her handbags and shoes.

Gradually, Venus claims ascendancy.

Every night, Death creeps into the factory

around eight o'clock.

It clocks in at eight sharp.

At a set time.

And everyone is set.

Then nothing moves.

Maybe that's why nothing should be said, but even so,

we can still say it.

Yes.

I was a union delegate for thirty years.

With the CGT.

Right after the war,

a guy-from Central Committee got me a job at Lip,

in the arms department.

It was because

I got on well with him

and also because I knew the basics of the job.

I had worked in a similar factory

in Switzerland, in Zurich.

The unusual thing about arms factories

is that they're always away from the main site.

It was the same at Lip. In the summer,

you can't see the factory for the flowers.

You remember the strike?

Well, it...

It left me astonished.

And by astonishment, I mean it killed me.

The thing is,

the lads and I worked

making clocks for the anti-tank guns.

And we knew very well

they would be used on children and women.

Not at the start but at the end,

because after military war,

there's civil war.

But the lads

kept their traps firmly shut.

There were terrible silences.

Besides, a strike is primarily silence.

Naturally, the lads had plenty of time to think

about wages, women, holidays,

their work grievances,

retirement.

Russia's retreat.

And death.

But there was never any mention of that.

THERE WAS ONCE

When the strike was over,

I let someone else have my job.

They didn't understand that.

I would have liked to explain this to them:

Earning a living through death,

I'm all right with that

but not with having to die to live.

I've been around a bit.

I've traveled all over. I was a great traveler,

not more than others perhaps, but that's another story.

anyway,

I was retrained by a lad,

a young lad I told you about.

No, a young lad, not Duclos. Of course you know Duclos.

A young lad who wished me well.

I had got on marvelously with his father

before the war.

Anyway, he retrained me. He found me another job.

I'm still a CGT delegate now,

In confectionery.

In the confectionery department

of the Gaumont cinema chain.

MERCHANDISE

Nicolas, put Channel Three on!

Did you hear me?

I want to see the Russian film on Channel Three.

Look, Grandad,

like it or lump it.

Hey, Nicolas, you little bastard!

I'm the boss here!

Give us a break, Grandad! Buy yourself a TV.

Sale price.

Purchase price.

I don't have any savings.

Besides, the economy Is screwed.

Be careful, kid.

Why do you have Daddy's headphones? You're not allowed.

Don't you go telling stories.

There is no story.

No music.

If there is no music or story, how do you cope?

How do I cope?

I see the world

a bit like we see the unbelievable.

The unbelievable is what you don't see.

Bosses in the south

Slogging for the Renault workers

So I live elsewhere, In dimension four

With the GMC2 comic

I am tomorrow

I see the stereo in a little girl's eye

I see the stereo in a little girl's eye

You sing my music softly with me

And you applaud me

You never say anything You never say anything

You cry sometimes like

Your velvet voice floats over the night

So I live elsewhere, In dimension X

With comics at a friend's

I am never I am always

And I am X in the formula of love

And of ennui

You never say anything You never say anything

You never say anything

POLITICS

I said that I'd tell you.

Sandrine!

Vanessa, let me undress you.

She was the consul's daughter.

Diamonds had to be smuggled to finance a miners' strike.

Where did you put my tie? I can't find it.

She was a teacher.

Her father didn't know she was an activist.

Marriage was the only solution.

Because of the wedding night.

We didn't even fuck.

She still hasn't forgiven me.

Nicolas, go to bed.

I want to watch TV.

Don't be a pain! Get a move on!

I went back to Germany.

To Dachaou.

Get to bed!

And she was there too. How?

I never found out.

We can go now.

I'll just put my shoes on. Are you coming?

- I was Krasucki's deputy. - Are you coming?

He's famous now.

Well?

We welcomed guys at the camp.

No.

It was my job to spot Party members when the trains arrived.

- You said you would. - We were a red camp.

Well, I've changed my mind.

The Communists were in charge.

Other camps were controlled by common criminals.

You don't tell anyone you worked in a death camp

and the CEO was Hitler,

or that you took the wages simply to survive.

In my opinion, the CP doesn't come from there.

But it went through there.

And it never says how it happens.

Where it happens.

Where it happened.

Where all that happened.

HIS STORY

You have to look at where we came from.

The International.

It represented the workers of the world,

and to belong to it,

you had to be a bit mad.

That reminds me...

I'm going to tell you a story. You know Singapore?

Well, apparently,

European industry

is setting up lots of factories because labor is cheaper.

Anyway, I went to Singapore once.

Listen to this.

I was on my way to Argentina, with a mate.

The International had delegated us

to take leaflets to Argentine workers in Buenos Aires.

We were traveling by boat.

The Santa Cruz, I think. Yes, that's it.

It went and broke down in Singapore.

We were told it would take at least forty-eight hours to fix.

Just what we needed!

Being inactive and useless in that faraway country.

What could we have done there?

But then we heard

a strike had broken out

in a factory. It was a fair distance away.

It was a unique opportunity for us to spread the good word.

My mate and I retrieved the leaflets from where we'd hidden them.

We'd put them in the walls,

behind the walls, of our luxury third class cabin.

Get the picture?

In those days, it was dangerous to be Communist.

Anyway, we got them out.

Only to get to the factory, we had no choice,

since It was so far away, but to rent a car.

It was the only means of transport.

And all we could find to rent

was a big car, a Rolls.

Very well then, we'll take the Rolls!

So off we went with our leaflets.

We had only done, I don't know,

five, six, ten kilometers,

when we heard the ship's horn.

That meant the repairs had taken less time than expected

and we had to get back to the boat fast.

We turned round and went hell for leather,

still armed with our leaflets, which we wanted to get rid of.

Showing up on the boat

with all our stuff, was definitely not an option.

The only solution that presented itself to us

was to chuck the leaflets out of the car window.

At least

the few peasant farmers, who we saw in the distance,

would be able to read them.

But the fact was, it was absolutely mad.

Our leaflets were in Spanish since they were for the Argentines,

and the good folk around us

were Javanese,

who wouldn't have understood.

So...

you can appreciate how mad it was of us.

It was stupid. But what can you do? It's history.

Not cinema.

She always says I jerk off with my memories.

I don't jerk off.

But I sometimes look at my cock.

That isn't cinema though.

We don't have time to make scenes.

It took me two minutes to tell you about

forty years of my life.

So cinema, no way!

No.

I forget about cinema

and I look at my cock.

Because there are times

when everything comes out of the cock.

Come on!

The exit is this way, ladies and gents.

Let's have the money.

Cough up!

On Sunday, I cycled to the anti-nuclear demo.

In fact, there isn't one factory and one landscape.

The two are one.

There's a landscape, which we cross like idiots

to clock in at home,

and a factory,

where you can never work while sleeping

in the shade of the trees.

There aren't any.

When you and Mummy were arguing,

you said, "impossible." What's impossible?

Well, when we argued about the washing machine,

she said I didn't help enough.

It's true, it's hard for me to ask

if she has dirty panties to wash.

It's like asking if her ass is dirty.

It's easier for her. She does it automatically.

It's the factory for her.

For me, it's home.

That's why some things are possible and others are impossible.

That's the reason.

I'm thinking about Nicolas.

He brought porn home from school

then forgot about it.

So I looked at it.

I'm thinking about his mom's cunt.

Why do I feel hurt when other guys stick their cock in it?

I'm thinking about love,

about fucking and being fucked.

She's the man sometimes and I'm the woman.

But since I'm a guy,

sometimes with her,

it's like I'm fucking another guy.

That's why I like it when she sticks her finger up my ass.

I often ask her.

Take your time.

What's the matter?

Is something wrong? Have you had enough?

No.

I like doing it this way.

You look uncomfortable.

I don't know.

I feel like I'm being eaten up by saying "I love you" all the time.

How's your new job?

All right.

I'm going to pack it in.

I really don't get you.

Isn't the pharmacy interesting?

You complained you never saw anyone, and now you do.

Yes.

But it's too fast.

I don't understand what I'm doing.

My eyes can't keep up with my hands.

Don't think about anything.

That's easy to say.

Maybe that's what's wrong with you.

Forget it.

The thing is,

I don't know how to do anything.

Actually, I do.

I was exaggerating.

I know how to make tenderness.

I know how to cook.

I know how to do Nicolas's homework, too.

And I know how to suck cock.

See.

You see, Pierrot,

It's funny.

There's too much.

There's too much,

but it isn't enough for you.

There's too much.

Far too much.

And yet it isn't enough.

I thought I was producing.

But my goods had already been sold.

Basically, I was producing at a loss.

And who was profiting?

Who?

No, not him.

Someone behind him.

Something between us.

Work.

- Do you know what shit means? - Yes.

Well I haven't had a shit in two weeks.

Nicolas.

Eight years ago,

I shitted him out from between my legs.

And now everything's blocked.

I had to stuff myself.

Even gladly.

But it's too strong.

My tissue is torn.

I get the feeling that everything I say

is shit.

And everything I do.

What should happen in sex happens elsewhere.

And nothing happens in my ass.

I make the food.

It goes in and down,

but nothing comes out.

I have become a shitty bitch.

I wonder if many women in France are like me.

MAYBE

All of a sudden, it's over.

Something else is happening.

My role is over.

What the fuck are we playing at?

He explains to me.

But he doesn't explain.

I understand.

Me first of all.

Always guys like him. Always he who says,

"Do the dishes, go on strike, come home from work,

"let's fuck, let's go on holiday."

Or worse.

I say it for him.

And he is working in my place.

In my place.

In my place.

Telling others' stories.

Fine.

It's a peculiar job,

especially when you get paid for it.

But letting others tell your story

is a crime.

Especially when you don't get paid for it.

You go to the cinema.

You buy a ticket.

In exchange, you sell your role as producer.

Tun on the TV

and you're an accomplice.

Worse still,

you organize the crime.

You go looking for your own story

where there are only others' stones.

You want the others with you.

But it's dangerous.

An animal would never do that.

But we're men and women.

We're superior.

And he ends up being there,

where he shouldn't be.

Because of that.

I ought to be there,

but I'm not.

Not yet.

Still and already.

Already me.

And yesterday.

Today.

Children and parents.

Today and tomorrow.

Now and later.

Number one and number two.

And me.

Finally in my place.

Number three.

I am present.

Between my past and my future.

Between youth and old age.

I invent the grammar.

I find the words.

And shes and hes already invented the music.

And we say to ourselves, it's so late.

The power to do that.

To want this power.

Sometimes I wonder

If my friends from those days lived sometimes

If the girls

Took the time to say a word to this night

Which held them and rocked them

"...as it is upon occupancy.

"It will be used solely as his personal residence

"and that of his family.

"He must comply with the requirements of the city and the police.

"He must enjoy its use as a good father."

"...enjoy its use as a good father."

Mummy will be home soon.

When you're dead,

will you still be my daddy?

Of course I will.

Don't you worry.

- Do you know what a landscape is? - Yes.

Is Daddy the factory or the landscape?

These eyes that watch you Night and day

And that are said to be fixed On figures and hatred

These forbidden things

Towards which you crawl

Nicolas, what are you up to?

I'm examining my plan with care.

And which will be yours

And?

I can see that it's "inworkable".

There was that. There was a factory

and, all of a sudden, there was a landscape.

These eyes that watch you Night and day

And that are said to be fixed On figures and hatred

These forbidden things

Towards which you craw!

And which will be yours

When you close the eyes

Of oppression