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Even on Sundays, now.
What's wrong, Albert?
Nothing, sir. I said it's a beautiful Sunday!
Go faster!
Faster!
But we're going downhill, sir.
Even better! What's our speed?
Sixty. You're taking this too far.
I gave you an order, Albert.
Moser came down the pass on this model at 95 to 100.
- It is his job, sir. - Faster.
Faster, Albert!
Such stability!
Go, go!
Faster, Albert!
Faster!
Oh, shit!
Hello.
What's the matter?
- Is Michel home? - Yes, of course. Come in.
I killed the boss!
- You killed Puccini? - Yes, this morning.
He took one to the head.
- A bullet? - What? No, a trunk.
A trunk to the head?
Could you maybe fix me a stiff drink?
Of course. Come in.
It's Albert.
He says he killed the boss.
- What was that? - Albert is here!
Ah! I can see that. How are you doing?
Not good! He says he's killed Puccini!
Ah! That's great! What?
- He did what? - Now you're listening!
He killed him with the trunk of his car. Imagine!
A trunk to the head. Bam!
He wanted me to go faster.
I warned him.
But you know him, he's stubborn.
Oh, come now!
Alright...
Tell me what happened, calmly.
He wasn't the most easy-going guy.
He was strict.
Call a spade a spade, he was a jerk.
I mean, he was a boss.
Yeah, but he was someone.
Right! Managing a company of 300 people
and making profits every day, what a feat!
In the middle ages you'd be canonized for less.
But selling bicycles is easier than selling cars.
Cycling shares are on the up.
Again with the stock exchange...
Harmony Golds were at 80 eight days ago.
Now they're at 102.
I bought 2,000. Profit: 44,000.
I can sell them and buy 180 Radiotechniques.
Yes, I know, it's just a joke.
But if you really gave it some thought
with all your culture and intellect
maybe I wouldn't have to play pretend.
I've got a knack for it. It's such a rush.
But Mozart, Maupassant, Cézanne...
The IQ of an technocrat... And you're a warehouseman.
Head warehouseman!
Head warehouseman... 4,728 francs per month.
Are you unhappy?
I'm frustrated.
A cottage, our two hearts, some friends,
Vivaldi, Balzac paperbacks...
- Happiness... - ...is found in culture. I know.
In the meantime, who's going to replace Puccini?
Oh, yes, Puccini. I had forgotten for a moment.
I think he has a nephew, Bruno.
That's me.
It's OK, I'll carry it.
- Do you have any other luggage? - No.
I'm moving to France with only this. Like an emigrant.
Just a toothbrush and a spare set of briefs in a cardboard suitcase.
Imbecile!
Go fetch my luggage,
load it into the car and come meet me at the bar.
- Barman! - Yes, sir?
The shaker, please.
You'd like a cocktail?
Who said anything about cocktails?
I just want the shaker. Am I not speaking French?
The shaker!
- It's all loaded up, sir. - Let's go.
The umbrella!
I hope this is to your satisfaction.
Unless sir prefers to follow in his uncle's footsteps...
- Is that where... - Yes.
You'll have it repaired. It looks unkempt.
I'll drive. You go in the back.
In the death seat? Never!
What an ordeal!
TO OUR BOSS
The guy who died is in the lead.
I'll remember the Paris-Roubaix burial.
A man's final wish is sacred.
And it's healthy, too.
It's very good for our brand image.
Good thing we don't make boats, we'd all be swimming there.
Excuse me, miss, coming through.
What an idea this was.
- He was always full of surprises. - And you are?
Flavacourt. Gérard Flavacourt. Head of advertising.
You do our commercials?
All of your advertising!
I see. It's very bad.
- Really? - Yes.
It's old. Old like him. I'm young, though.
That's what I told him. It's out of date.
What did he say?
That he was the one paying for it.
That so? Alright...
We're changing the lot, anyway.
We're going to be young! Aggressive!
You're going to rack your brains.
- Goodbye, sir. - Very well, sir.
- So? - He's got cash, ripe for the taking.
Slow down!
There's no rush. He's not going anywhere.
This morning, in a Tour de France-like procession
the friends and employees of Gaetano Puccini
accompanied the industrialist to his final resting place.
Do you require anything else, sir?
Sports directors of competing brands,
sponsored riders, a representative from the Sports and Youth Ministry,
all followed the company's heir Bruno Puccini, collected
and dignified despite his grief.
Hello, mamma? Yes, it's me.
Yes, we buried him.
Very good.
Very good.
Ah, mamma?
I was on TV.
Very, very good.
You can't imagine.
So, mamma, tomorrow...
Jupiter will be in Virgo?
Is that right?
OK, very good. Perfect.
Yes, mamma. I'm going to bed.
I'll call you tomorrow.
Ciao, mamma.
PUCCINI BICYCLES
Yes. Alright. Very well.
I'll call you back.
Janine Royer, AKA "Poupette", your assistant.
Good morning, sir.
Very good.
Follow me!
What an ordeal!
What is that over there?
Ah, that's...
The managers
of the Tour de France sent you a commemorative yellow jersey.
For your fifth victory in the Grande Boucle.
There! In the trash!
No yellow!
I never want to see yellow here. It's a cursed color.
- Write this down. - Yes.
- "Dear..." What are their names? - Félix Lévitan and Jacques Godet.
Yes.
"I am very touched by your gift.
"I must point out..."
No, not "point out".
"I must warn you, however, that my allergy to the color yellow
"prevents me from ever winning the Tour de France again
"until you have changed the color of the winner's jersey
"and in the meantime I will focus on Giro d'Italie
"which has the good taste to offer the winner a pink jersey."
Underline "pink".
"My sincerest salutations, etc."
Do you agree?
Yes.
Because, if not...
Paul Blanchard, Chief Financial Officer.
Théodore Duvernois, Chief Technical Officer.
Émile Lebrun, Personnel Manager.
And Michel Frémont, Shop Steward.
Leave us.
Sir, may I offer you a financial overview of the company...
No!
Let's talk figures later.
First I would like to connect with you on a psychic level.
Psychic.
This is very important to me, you see.
You, what star sign are you?
- Yes. - Aries.
Aries. Rising?
I have no idea.
Very good.
- You've never been curious? - No.
No?
No.
I don't really see the point.
Don't try to understand.
I understand.
The boss does the understanding.
His subordinates do what's needed. It's a good system.
- So, what's your sign? - Taurus, I think.
You think? And when you're managing the factory,
do you think or are you sure?
I think you'd be sure, no?
Don't laugh.
- You? - Capricorn, Taurus rising.
That's how I like my answers! Clear and precise.
- Your name? - Lebrun.
- Bravo. Bruno. - My pleasure, sir.
And yourself?
Let's be clear.
I am the Shop Steward.
My star sign is none of your business.
I'm telling you this in your own language
to spare you from embarrassment.
I hope that answers your question once and for all.
Good.
I'm glad there's someone here who speaks Italian.
That's very good.
I'm a Scorpio, sir, first decan.
I really don't care.
Lower ranking staff can be any star sign they want!
Excuse me.
Very well.
Where did they find this guy?
He's a paranoiac. Did you see his eyes?
We were expecting a boss and all we got was Mystic Meg.
What do you make of all this?
Excuse me?
What do you think about all this?
- All what? - Our new boss.
Oh, jeez! I really don't give a crap.
I'm not here to judge our employer
but sanction his excesses.
You're management, I'm the union representative.
If he gives you the boot it's you who's in trouble
but if he lays me off, he's in trouble.
Understand?
Do you see the difference?
Vivaldi! Your Vivaldi!
He's my favorite of all the Italians. Don't you agree?
And he was an Aquarius. I checked.
- What's all this stuff? - This is my office.
And why do you have this office?
Your uncle gave it to me.
He liked to come here, in the little workshop where it all began,
and chat with me.
With you? Why you?
To relax, just like you're doing just now.
Very good. Let's chat.
I'm all ears.
You represent the personnel?
It is my honor.
How come you speak Italian?
Because I enjoy Italian operas.
I wanted to fully appreciate your masterpieces.
La Tosca, La Forza del destino, Il Barbiere di Siviglia.
Alright, very good. Listen.
I had a look at the factory. It's sub-par.
You're right. I've been saying that for a long time.
The production rate is too...
Too high.
That's what I told them. They wouldn't listen.
- Too high? - Yes. Don't you think? Right? No?
And the wages. You think they're...
Too low. I've been saying that too.
Your uncle was a stubborn man.
I'm so happy we're on the same page.
Yes, but the canteen is...
Disgusting.
Free, but disgusting.
Our demands were: free and edible.
It's free.
Let's work towards it being edible.
You'll learn to understand me, Mr. Frémont.
Of course, sir.
First of all,
stop listening to music on the job.
I work while listening to music.
It's not what you think, sir.
We going to have an issue, you and I!
I concur.
You see how we can agree on some things?
He's impatient, he puts on airs, he's macho,
garrulous and superstitious.
So he's an Italian.
What's he been doing up until now?
He was studying!
Are you serious? He's the same age as you.
That's why he looks younger.
Education keeps you young.
Especially when you learn nothing!
Can't you use him to climb the ranks a bit?
To get a better position?
- I don't know, I'm just... - "Just saying?"
He can't stand me.
Already?
You didn't waste any time. Ever the diplomat.
Why am I sticking my nose in, right?
Well, with a raise...
We would be able to pay off the stereo system
you bought yourself for our 20 year anniversary.
Michel, can't you tighten your belt a little?
Never!
And certainly not one of Italian leather!
Oh, sweet baby Jesus.
To play like that and die of pleasure.
Shall I serve you a glass?
No, Alberto.
I'm expecting someone.
I won't be needing you this evening.
Sandra!
Now, who could that be at this hour?
Come in.
Hello, Bruno.
Oh, it's you, Sandra.
I would have seen her...
What brings you here tonight?
I wasn't expecting you.
I know, but I couldn't help myself.
It was like I was drawn here by a force greater than myself.
You knew I would come.
Not at all.
I was going to eat alone.
Just me and my worries.
And my worries.
- Just me and my worries! - You're worried about something?
As a matter of fact I am!
The whole factory is relying on me.
There are a lot of problems.
- And the shop steward... - Won't you take me out to dinner?
Don't talk over me!
As I was saying, the shop steward is a jackass.
Thanks, sweetie.
Listen, Sandra. I'm not in a good mood.
I'm not hungry. I've got bicycles on my mind.
I love it when you talk like that.
I don't feel like doing anything. Got it?
I've got a difficult day tomorrow.
I'm going to fire someone.
- Yes. You're right. - I know I will.
I saw yellow.
I'm going to the bedroom.
I'll wait for you.
We'll have dinner after.
That's it. Yes.
Keep going.
Oh, no!
Albert, the power's out!
Quick!
NEW MEDIA 17
- Good morning. - Good morning, sir.
- Do we have the report on Puccini? - Yes, sir.
Alright, bring it to me!
- Good morning, sir. - Good morning.
- Good morning, sir. - Good morning.
- So, Florence? - Hello, sir. Not a genius.
- As we thought? - Worse!
Fourteen private courses, internships with mom's clients then he set up shop.
So, six secretaries, 200 m2 of offices, six months,
three million lira in debt. Mom footed the bill.
- Ah! What else? Love life? - A desert.
- No partners? - Nothing apparent.
- No women or men. - But he's not bad looking.
I've seen worse!
Alright. In short...
A mama's boy, a hopeless narcissist and...
- A paranoiac. - Of course.
His fear of women makes sense.
- Culture? - Non-existent.
Some dark arts, maybe.
Bottom-shelf astrology, like: "Libra, beware of kidney pains."
That's about it.
OK, that's all good stuff.
The mother's fortune?
A hotel chain, a fashion brand, Rita's ice,
fifty percent stake in her brother Gaetano's business.
Any land?
You see the boot? The heel belongs to her.
Alright, we'll do a campaign worthy of his mamma's fortune.
Good morning, sir.
Good morning, Albert.
- How are you? - Excellent weather today.
Slightly cloudy.
A little cooler than yesterday, as a result.
To hell with the weather!
Perhaps sir would like today's predictions?
I'm listening.
The "septile..."
The sextile of Neptune and Pluto is aligned with sir's house.
Your Sun-Uranus square reveals elements of tension
and you'll be happy to hear your Mercury is dropping.
Wait, that's thermometers.
Your Mercury is in retrograde.
OK. Give me an overview.
A fortuitous day.
The heart?
Sir means in the romantic department?
What romantic department, Albert? Love's old news.
In terms of cardiac health.
No issues.
- Color? - Today, it's pink.
Looks like a wonderful day. We'll make the most of it.
Announce the color.
Madeleine?
- Yes, Mr. Albert? - Pink.
Believe me, this is a tough one for a family man like myself.
Of course.
But to be without a job's no picnic either.
Ten years ago, during the financial boom,
when we didn't care about bosses
I would turn up dressed in yellow
and tell him: "Your can stick your pink..."
Good morning, sir.
Good morning.
Good morning.
Very good.
Very good.
Very good.
- This is salmon. - I think you'll find it's pink, sir.
No, it's salmon.
First observation.
Gentlemen, I've been thinking a lot
about the future of this company.
We won't just make a few little changes.
- We'll change everything. - Really?
So we won't make bicycles anymore?
Second observation. The three of you...
I'll ask you something.
What is the future? Tell me.
- Expanding the bicycle market. - Very good.
And who do we sell bicycles to?
- People who don't have them. - Very good.
Gentlemen, we're going to export them.
- To the US? - No.
The USA is old news.
Four more years of Reagan, and every American will have a horse.
- Further afield. - Africa?
No.
In Africa, you have to send the bikes with a check
for them to pay for the bikes.
It's not profitable.
Japan.
We're going to flood Japan with Puccini Bicycles.
That's my idea.
First observation.
Allow me to make a quick calculation.
The production cost of a Puccini bicycle,
taking into account the raw materials
like titanium, tarcenium...
Then adding on social charges.
And transport costs.
...would mean that our bicycles would be put on the Japanese market
at three times the price of bikes made in Japan.
Initial reaction.
Fearful.
Small brains.
Small ambitions.
First, I will lower the production costs.
No more complex metals.
Titanium and all that.
Aluminum.
I'll reduce costs, reduce staff.
I'll make affordable bikes.
But, sir, Puccini makes state-of-the-art bikes!
State of what art?
What does that mean? That it's expensive! That's all!
And I'll do a big, worldwide advertising campaign.
"Puccini, the sturdiest bicycle in the world."
- But it won't be true! - So what?
I won't use titanium.
I'll use billboards. It's less expensive.
I'll go to Tokyo and I'll take them by storm!
Gentlemen, bring me your ideas this afternoon.
Let's get to work!
I'm doing well, aren't I?
I'm the best!
I'm sick of these showgirl rags!
It's bothering me.
When I go to bed with my wife, I think about them.
I'm sick of dressing like a marshmallow
forced to humor a boss caught up in his own whimsy and greed.
Cool it. This isn't a union meeting.
Well, it will be soon enough.
Over at Budzel, they work knee-deep in grease.
I'd take that over this. At least it's manly.
Alright. I'll see what I can do.
- OK. - Back to work.
Back to work, my little taffies.
My little taffies.
You've got a bone to pick, as well?
- It's about the pink? - No, you get used to it.
Not me.
Pink puts Mozart in drag
and turns The Flying Dutchman into Les Folies Bergères.
It's traumatic.
What did he do now?
He wants to make aluminum bikes,
cut back on staff and take Japan by storm.
It's so strange, there are millions of perfectly normal Italians.
They must have their nut-jobs,
but the one raging madman in Italy happened to walk through our door.
What can we do?
We should have him locked up.
That's not part of the collective labor agreement.
Michel, everyone's counting on you.
I know everyone's counting on me.
Everyone's looking at me with pleading eyes
but from the union's end, there's no basis there.
If he wants to make aluminum bikes, he's entitled to.
If he wants to make zinc bikes, he's entitled to.
If he wants to take Japan by storm, he can.
Michel, Michel!
Look at yourself.
I'll talk to him.
Alberto, what's going on?
I'm driving. You've got company in the back.
- Drive, Albert. - Stop, Albert!
- Drive, Albert. - Stop!
- Drive! - Stop!
Look, I've been driving for 20 years and people know me around here.
What should I do?
What gives you the right?
"The trade union representative
"will be received by the CEO upon request."
Article 12, Collective Labor Agreement.
You're the CEO, I'm the trade union representative.
Drive, Albert.
This is an abuse of power.
So, that's that.
Mr. Puccini, this company employs 300 people
who, up until today, have seen their hard work pay off.
Of course, there have been conflicts,
inadequacies, demands,
but, in the end, they've enjoyed the security of a stable job
thanks to the quality of our product.
Alright, skip to the end.
That was the end of the story! Until you turned up.
Yes, I turned up and you didn't like that.
That's not true. Ask Albert.
When I saw you, I thought: "He doesn't seem like a bad guy."
It's true.
You stay out of this!
So, you liked me at first?
Yes, I thought you had a charm,
a certain poise,
you seemed intelligent.
Good.
Perhaps I was wrong about you.
- And then? - Then everything went south, I'm afraid.
I want to make cheap bikes. It's within my rights.
Why not make wheel-free bikes? It's cheaper.
There's a gap in the market.
Make pedal-free bikes for downhill cycling
or without a seat for going uphill.
By the time you've taken 300 people to the cleaners
because of some Japano-astrological reverie
where will that leave us?
I'm asking you.
I prohibit you!
I must transgress that prohibition
to add that the workers I represent
are sick of being humiliated by their boss.
They've had enough, as have I,
of the multicolor fantasies of a madman
who reads our future in his coffee grounds.
Can I talk now?
Thank you.
Not one law, decree or article in the Collective Labor Agreement...
That's right, I read it.
...prohibits me from dressing my staff how I see fit.
I am the only boss who provides clean work clothes
to his workers on a daily basis.
They're candy pink or periwinkle blue, but they're clean.
If anyone would prefer to work in a filthy factory
in filthy work clothes, they are free to leave.
Well, I did my job.
I warned you.
Albert, drop me off here.
- Goodbye, sir. - Goodbye!
Mamma...
Mamma...
- Albert? - Yes, sir?
What's a "reverie"?
I don't know, sir.
Must be a vulgar term.
No!
Yes.
He called me a "reverie" in front of my own chauffeur.
A what?
A reverie.
How dare he.
Give him the boot.
- You think so? - Tomorrow morning.
But he's the shop steward.
Keep him, then.
- You think so? - I mean it.
Don't just keep him, spoil him.
What an ordeal, though.
What's this?
A communicant?
No, it's Virgo.
Just like the man who will eat it.
How did you know?
I can't create an advertising campaign
without knowing everything about my clients.
You know everything about me?
Everything of interest to me, my friend.
We do not make a campaign for a Scorpio
in the same way as we would for a Libra.
- Ah! You adapt to the...? - But of course.
What is an advertising campaign?
A lot of money.
Yes, but if it works...
It is above all the implementation of a key theory
of my own invention.
"A company's image is only the reflection of its leader."
Do you follow?
Not entirely, but it's genius. Genius.
Using this information, all that's left is to find the right images.
The bicycle?
Bad.
Overused.
One evening, I was alone
and suddenly the idea came to me, just like that.
A bike is nice to look at,
but we have something far more handsome.
And that is?
You.
Me?
You!
Well, well.
See for yourself.
ON A PUCCINI I PEDAL FOR YOU
Fantastic!
The rest is child's play, my team is working on it.
Aries by Puccini.
Sagittarius.
By Puccini.
Scorpio by Puccini.
Pisces by Puccini.
Virgo by Puccini.
GEMINI BY PUCCINI
Do you smell that?
Smell what?
- Ink! - No, that's not it.
It has a very specific smell.
- I can't smell anything. - Me neither.
It smells like unemployment, debt and bankruptcy.
It smells like the end of Puccini Bicycles.
Where is he, by the way?
Right now? He's filming for us.
Action!
From Aries to Pisces
From Gemini to Scorpio
You can place your trust in Puccini
I pedal for you
Puccini
Puccini
From Cancer to Taurus
From Virgo to Aquarius
You can place your trust in Puccini
I pedal for you
You can place your trust in Puccini
I pedal for you
Puccini
What should we do, boss?
What we always do, kiddos. Once the mess has been made
and it's too late to clean it up, what do we say?
- It's great! - Exactly.
- Hey. - Hey, Michel.
VIRGO - SCORP
TAURUS
Are those our deliveries?
No. They're returns.
Out in the morning, back in the evening.
Blue mimosa, do you think this is normal?
We're living in la-la-land.
Every day all he talks about is star signs, the zodiac, omens.
He's a sick man.
And what about these colors that change every day?
And I have to put up with his temper.
I can't do this anymore!
I'm going to snap!
We can snap together if you're free some time this week?
Seriously, Albert?
I'm not asking for much.
I just want Mourousi to get me on his show.
Yes, Mourousi.
From one Italian to another, can't we work something out?
What? I'll talk about my bicycles.
What do you mean, advertising? No, nothing like that.
It's a technological breakthrough.
First there was the balance bike, then the derailleur, then the Puccini.
Three stages.
Yes. You'll call me back? Perfect. Goodbye.
Come in!
What now?
The situation is critical, sir.
You're always wasting my time...
Always crying, always miserable.
Well, sir, let me...
No, not "sir".
From now on, you will address me as "Chairman".
"Hello, chairman. Goodbye, chairman. Thank you, chairman." So, what is it?
Help, chairman.
What do you mean?
I've got 1,500 Virgos on my hands.
The Taurus, Aries, and Scorpio models
are being sent back as soon as they go out.
In eight days, they won't be being sent out at all.
You're Head of Sales, are you not?
You're in charge of this.
And if I lose money, you're out of here!
Are you sure you don't share some of the responsibility, chairman?
Of course not. I'm the boss.
If a boss fires someone
it's because he's bad.
Have you ever seen a boss fire himself? No.
So, the boss can never be bad.
It makes sense, right?
It's up to you to sell the bikes.
So, sell them.
Goodbye.
Hey!
You're going to leave without saying anything?
- Goodbye. - Goodbye, who?
Goodbye, chairman.
Exactly.
No, he's Italian, crazy, and a boss.
We're French, sound of mind and working class.
So don't tell me we're the same.
Alright.
Did you come to apologize?
Not exactly,
but I think we lost our temper with each other the other day.
You lost your temper!
Possibly, yes.
You're apologizing, I accept your apology and it's all good.
Oh, no! It's all bad.
What's bad?
Mr. Puccini, chairman, sir, I would like talk to you calmly
and for you to do the same.
Promise?
I promise. Come.
So, Puccini's regular customers are struggling to relate
and perhaps are even shocked
by these commercials that while undoubtedly clever
may be seen as a tad flashy.
The staff feel that everything is going down the drain.
So, I think that the situation can be saved
by implementing a series of actions I would like to suggest to you
on behalf of the workforce
and I'm sure that you will approve them
because only imbeciles don't change their opinion
and you're not an imbecile.
That's true!
When people ask me nicely...
Isn't that right, mamma?
Just ask her.
Very well. So, these suggestions?
Is that it?
We also have to get rid of the colored overalls
but I imagine that after accepting all that
the overalls will be but an afterthought.
You know what, mamma?
The bicycles as they were,
the commercials without me, as they were,
everything as it was!
I have a question for you, Frémont.
Do you take me for an idiot?
I don't like that question.
So you do think I'm an idiot?
No, no. I would just prefer not to answer.
I don't think the matter is relevant.
Well, in any case, sir...
I will now take your leave, but I regret that...
Mr. Frémont, I gave you an order.
Answer my question.
Do you take me for an idiot, yes or no?
It's something I would need to think about
but seeing as you insist
without even letting me ponder at my leisure
I would have to say that...
Absolutely, yes.
As I thought.
In that case you are fired, dismissed, out the door!
You're fired! Get out!
Mamma!
Mamma!
ON STRIKE DUE TO DISMISSAL
OCCUPIED FACTORY BOSS UNDER SEQUESTRATION
...Michel Frémont. Mr. Bruno Puccini,
the brand-new CEO of the famous bicycle brand
is being sequestered as part of strike actions.
We...
Florence!
What's all this about?
What's going on?
I'm running a national campaign
for a company with a sequestered boss.
And his face is everywhere.
That doesn't help.
I told him not to touch the shop steward.
Whatever I say, they always do as they please,
as soon as they've paid. As if that was an excuse.
Dig up as much as you can on that shop steward.
Let's try to fix this.
- For the company's reputation? - Yes.
And because I've got eight million on the line.
It might last weeks, months.
No, mamma. They're not terrorists.
They're workers on strike.
It's not exactly the same.
I'm not saying it's not nice of them, it is, but I didn't ask for this.
I don't want their sacrifice.
I gave 20 years of my life to that company.
My relationship with Puccini is over.
I'll never go back.
What are you going to do?
Listen to music, read Balzac,
tend to the garden,
look at my wife,
things I've not been able to do fully
and will now be able to give full attention to.
How much will that bring in?
I was fired without cause.
I'll take him to court, get compensation,
get my unemployment benefits and earn as much money
listening to Mozart
as I did sticking labels on boxes.
Why would I complain?
As much money?
You mean, "as little."
Also, "without cause"? You did call him an idiot, you know.
I was just answering his question.
It wasn't an insult, it was information.
Go and join them, it'll make them happy.
Let's go.
The door's unlocked.
You can put it all on the table, Mrs. Corbière!
Who are you?
Greetings, ma'am.
You won't know my name. I am Mr. Marveau.
Perhaps my profession will be more enlightening: I am a debt collector.
What did I do?
Oh, nothing at all.
A little oversight, negligence, absent-mindedness.
It merely slipped your mind to pay two bills of exchange of 1,200 francs.
You see, it's nothing at all.
So, as a debt collector, I'm here to reclaim the money.
No, it's because I... I... I mean...
- You didn't have the money. - No.
Don't worry, we never do, do we?
Well, you have 48 hours to pay me, otherwise...
- Otherwise? - I'll have to seize assets.
- You can't do that! - Actually, it's quite standard.
Come now, don't look so sad.
There, there. Hold back that little tear. There.
It happens to everyone.
You're my third client today
and I have 12 after you.
So you see, it's totally normal. A part of life!
It was my first real go at it.
I invested in a Mauritanian mining company.
They said it would go up.
It was mercury.
So, I bought 100.
If seemed like a safe bet, then...
Then...
- Yes. - Ah, mercury...
You should invest in mercury when it's freezing
and sell it during a heatwave.
That's funny.
It's not.
No, not really.
Please don't cry.
I'm not a monster.
I'll seize... just a few bits and bobs.
What can I take?
Not this.
Not this either.
It's nice, right?
Oh, it's more than nice, it's captivating.
But this would be too much. Oh, no.
For 2,400 francs, I'd be robbing you blind. No, no.
Let's see... There!
The stereo.
No, not the stereo! Anything but the stereo!
The trouble is, apart from the stereo, there's nothing.
The stereo belongs to my husband
and actually, the money to pay it off...
...You invested in mercury. Your husband doesn't know?
- No. - Ma'am...
Forty-eight hours, and in the meantime, let's hope mercury makes a little effort.
My respects, ma'am.
Very moving!
- Mrs. Frémont? - Yes.
How do you do? I'm Gérard Flavacourt, the publicist for Puccini.
- Ah! "I pedal for you"? - That's me.
- You won't get any praise from me. - That's not why I'm here.
- My husband isn't home. - I'll wait.
Please, don't let me interrupt you.
Are you making a pound cake?
Yes, for a birthday.
Yours, perhaps?
Are you already 30 years old?
Alright, Mr. Flavacourt,
you didn't come to this distant suburb
to seduce a lefty housewife, I suppose.
That's not why I'm here either.
If that was the case, I would make it very clear.
Well, seeing as it's not, tell me what I can do for you.
This strike is troubling me a great deal.
I wanted to have a chat with your husband and see...
See what?
- It's your husband's birthday? - Yes.
- Today? - Yes.
Forty-seven years old.
But that's not going to stop the strike or get his job back.
Would you like your husband to take his job back today?
You can't imagine how much that would mean to me
especially since five minutes ago. But how?
I've got an idea,
an extraordinary idea.
The sort that comes to me once in a blue moon.
And I come up with ten of these a day.
If I'm not mistaken, and I don't believe I am...
May I use your phone?
What's his lunch?
Five kilos of pasta, water and a stove.
That's enough to sustain an Italian for a year.
Look, we have a visitor.
Ah, I'll get that!
Hello. Thanks.
Careful.
What are you doing here?
Happy birthday!
Here? I was going to come back home.
Go take a little walk
and let us prepare the surprise.
When he comes back, we sing and we open the bottle, OK?
Hey, wait a minute.
A strike is serious business.
Either we're fighting for the cause
or we pop open the champers and cut loose.
We can't do both.
What do you mean "cut loose"?
We're celebrating Michel's birthday.
Who came up with the cause? He did.
Albert's right.
Just because we've got the wop here
doesn't mean we can't have a little treat.
You know, we could invite him.
- Invite who? - Him.
Hey, that's too far!
We're not going to invite him to drink champagne with us!
Or maybe I need to re-read Marx,
because there's something I'm missing here.
We could tuck him in, while we're there.
I'll I'm asking for is a truce.
There's no truce in the class struggle.
Why not?
I'll tell you one thing,
a truce would humiliate him.
Humiliation by champagne, what a punishment!
It is when the proletariat is offering.
It might be fun. Just to see his face.
If he opens his mouth, we'll shut it soon enough.
Go get him, Albert.
Why me?
Because you'll find the right words.
So now we're begging him to come!
- Go on! - I'm going.
What do you want?
To see me starve to death?
Sadist!
For me to grovel at your feet?
Terrorists! Never!
- No. I came to fetch you. - Fetch me?
To lead me to my death like a Christian in the arena?
Arena... We're not lions.
No, it's a surprise.
A surprise?
They lock me up, they starve me, they torture me,
now they want to surprise me?
Maybe the surprise is that you're surrendering.
That's not exactly it.
Shh! Quiet!
Quiet.
Let me think.
If it's unconditional surrender,
maybe I'll go.
I'm thinking.
Very good, I will go.
Go tell your comrades that Bruno Puccini
will handle forgiveness with
as much grace as he did the trial!
- So? - He's coming.
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Thank you.
You are surrendering with dignity.
By blowing out these candles,
I extinguish the war between us.
A stupid war,
a civil war
that was tearing the Puccini family apart.
Thanks.
Hey! That's my cake.
What are you doing here?
I told you: never set foot in my factory again.
I'm celebrating my birthday with my friends.
Your birthday? When's that?
Today.
Forty-seven years old.
- You turn 47 today? - That's right.
You know what? Me too.
Seventeenth of September, Virgo, third decan.
- We were born on the same day? - Yes.
You look older than me.
Yes, but I've worked in my life.
Alright, let's have a drink.
Now you can blow them out together.
Ah? Right.
- Yeah! - Hooray!
So, when are you going back to work?
We won't if you don't bring Frémont back.
No, I'm not asking for everything.
You shouldn't have to.
You're not on strike, you're unemployed.
We're the ones on strike. So, we're asking.
Frémont, yes or no?
Go back to work and then we'll see.
No. Frémont first.
Very well.
The champagne was delicious.
A bit warm, but delicious.
But a Puccini never gives in to threats!
Well, in that case, Puccini can go back to his office.
- Perfect! - And no cake for Puccini.
- No cake? - No. This way.
- This way? - This way.
There.
We failed.
And yet, I thought it'd work.
I mean it. The birthday, the champagne,
no more class warfare, some change,
"bring it in, brother", and everyone back to work. It failed.
And yet, it was a good idea.
I don't get a lot of those, but when I do, I know it.
Oh, sir...
Listen, doll, between you and me...
I'm onto something here.
I'm just looking for the final piece.
Go get me one of those astrology books.
Bring back anything you can find.
Forty-seven years old...
To your health.
Ma!
I've had better birthdays...
Eh, mamma?
Yes!
- Hello, gentlemen. - Hello.
Is he still here?
- The reason for your visit, please? - Of course.
I'm here as a mediator.
I think I can get your boss to accept your demands.
How about that. How, might I ask?
That's my business.
What are you asking for?
For Frémont's job back?
- Yes, among other things. - What else?
To work in normal clothes
and not be forced to dress up as a rainbow.
And to end that corny ad campaign.
Yes, well, that... That's not the most essential thing...
Well, if you'll be so obliged, I'd like to see him.
You're free to enter. Leaving might be more difficult.
OK. I'll take the risk.
Come in.
Hello.
Hello. But how did you...?
I convinced the guards I was here to lend a hand,
to resolve the conflict.
- But that's not true. - It's not?
No.
I came to give you some good news.
Some incredible news.
Finally, some good news. Thank you!
Do you know what an astral twin is?
What do you mean?
How can this be? You, an astrology enthusiast
doesn't know what an astral twin is?
You haven't read The Neptunian Coincidences?
Yes, but a long time ago.
And the theories of Von Albrecht?
Why, of course!
What did he say again?
He put forward the perfect double theory
which says that among all those born on the same day,
the same year, the same time,
two of them are astral twins
and their destinies are intertwined.
Born on the same day,
they will die on the same day, have the same illnesses,
the same accidents, all at the same time.
My goodness, how very interesting.
And we all have an astral twin?
Yes, according to Von Albrecht
but we don't tend to meet them, it's very rare.
Very rare?
For example, my astral twin could be in India or China.
In China?
Wow!
To think that a Chinese guy is out there messing around
and that you might die because of him!
And where is mine?
- I'm getting to it. - Get there.
I had some research done into who it might be.
How?
- It's a long story. - Right.
But thanks to the California Institute of Astrology
and the Mormon archives in Salt Lake City
and the data confirmed
by the High Council of Astrology in Zurich
I have pinpointed a place, a time and a date of birth.
The same as yours, to the second.
I just had to check the local birth registry
to find the name.
Wow!
So you know my twin?
Yes.
And so do you.
So do I?
You almost shared his birthday cake with him.
No!
No! It can't be!
It's true.
Is this a joke?
- You're pulling my leg. - Not at all.
Scout's honor?
Advertising exec's honor.
Shh! You must keep this to yourself.
No, I won't have this!
I would like to have a twin, but not him, not Frémont.
Why can't I have a Chinese twin like you?
I would never see him.
I don't like yellow, anyway!
You mean,
if this anarchist gets a cold, I get a cold too?
Yes.
If this terrorist goes to prison, I do too?
- Yes. - Yes!
You call that good news?
Mars hasn't left the house of Virgo yet.
It's late!
I can't believe this!
Everything that happens to him happens to me too.
What's the matter?
Look at him!
- What's wrong? - Over there!
What's he doing up there?
Exactly, what's Michel doing up there?
He's taking the banner down.
He said he doesn't want to be a part of this anymore.
- Why's he sticking his nose in? - Exactly, why?
Quick, follow me!
Follow me.
Get down from there.
Leave the banner, come down!
Will you leave me alone?
Come down...
He's going to kill us!
Mr. Frémont, come down from there.
Be careful!
Careful!
Will you let me do what I want? Eh?
Come down!
Easy, now, Mr. Frémont. Give me your hand.
- What's wrong with him? - Give me your hand.
Give me your foot. Carefully. Ow!
Watch your hands.
You're more of a hindrance than anything else.
Let go! He's going to make me fall. How strange.
This way, give me your hand.
Leave me alone. Do not hit me!
- Come down! - Don't hit me and don't touch my foot.
- What an ordeal! - I don't need your help.
He's getting on my nerves!
Don't touch me.
The factory may be yours but that foot belongs to me.
Don't start getting angry now.
Come down.
Give it a rest.
Careful, now.
Oh yeah, now I'm fine.
Never go on the roof again, my friend.
- You're overreacting. - It's dangerous.
Don't do that again. I was so scared!
Could someone tell me what's going on?
Explain what? There's nothing to explain.
Come on, let's go. Let's go!
You're overthinking, Michel.
You finally get your job back, you get a raise,
your boss is taking us out to dinner to celebrate,
what more do you want?
I just want to understand.
To know why this Italian who hated me
has suddenly decided to coddle me and ask me out to dinner.
He realized he was wrong.
You said it yourself, he's crazy. Crazy people are unpredictable.
Yeah but what's next?
Maybe he'll fire me again tomorrow.
If he only likes me when I'm up on the roof
I think I'm entitled to have some concerns.
You're still not ready? The car's outside.
He doesn't want to go.
Why not?
The gentleman has some doubts.
Michel, you can't be serious.
You call him an idiot and he calls to book at Pré Catelan.
Not often you see a boss doing that.
- At Pré Catelan? - Yes.
Did you hear that?
Mr. Frémont, I'm so glad you came.
- Mrs. Frémont, you look beautiful. - Thank you.
We're going to have a wonderful evening.
Do you know the restaurant Pré Catelan?
No. It's far from our house
and with the salary I was on
we could afford to eat there twice a month.
Alas, we're accustomed to eating around 60 times per month.
We're here.
Albert, in you get.
He's not eating with us?
Go, Albert.
I don't make a habit of dining with my chauffeur.
But you're dining with your shop steward.
No. Tonight, I am dining with my future Head of Exports,
but you've just made me ruin the surprise.
- Where are you dining tonight, sir? - This darn smoke... Right here!
Ah, I'm sorry.
Not in this attire. Sir and Madam here, yes.
But not you.
What's he on about?
Our house rules are famous around the world.
This is a restaurant, not a golf course.
Yes, sir.
Jacket: 3,600 francs.
Pants: 1,800. Shoes: 1,600.
With the shirt, hat and neckerchief I must have a million on my back.
And I can't eat here?
Alas, we do not let customers in
by looking at their labels.
Dress code: dark suit and tie.
Sir, I am wearing Silvio Fava.
Go get your manager. Quickly.
The boss is in St-Moritz.
Hôtel Impérial.
There's a payphone across the street.
Payphone?
This is crazy.
Maybe we can go to Mustapha's?
It's not exactly the same.
No.
Good evening, Michel. How are you? Table for three?
- For four. - Of course.
Sir.
Sir.
Four glasses of raki? Sir?
It's nice here.
It's lively.
And the boss isn't in St-Moritz.
Makes things easier.
Did you find a parking spot?
Yeah, attracted a fair bit of attention.
I recommend the Royal Mustapha.
What is that?
- It's a... - It's lamb.
Lamb kidneys.
Lamb kidneys.
Sounds real nice.
Order the couscous.
Ah, no, I can't stand couscous.
I think...
I'll have...
That's it. Two eggs.
You can't just have two eggs.
It's not allowed?
Yellow. You don't like the color yellow.
If you just want to eat the whites, order meringues.
Good one!
On the house, gentleman. While you wait.
- Thank you, sir. - Thank you, Mustapha.
- Non! - What's wrong?
Don't eat that.
What... What's wrong with my oyster?
It looks good. What's wrong?
Oysters have to be very fresh.
I don't trust this place.
No one has ever died at Mustapha's.
Please.
If you enjoy oysters
we'll rent a plane
we'll go to Cancale
but don't eat those, please.
I'm sure they're rotten,
off, full of germs,
viruses, cholera,
the bubonic plague.
Mr. Puccini,
I'm 47 years old, as you know,
and understandably
for the last 35 years
I have eaten what I want, how I want
and when I want.
If you gave me my job back and a raise to watch what I eat
and ask me to keep my elbows off the table
perhaps we should call it a day.
We'll stay friends.
I'll be unemployed again
I'll probably eat less
but I won't eat according to any rules.
I would happily take a free man's gruel
over a feast for a slave!
I don't want
my new Head of Exports to fall ill.
I need him.
Head of Exports.
Yes, that's right.
Where did he go?
What's he doing?
You ruined his appetite.
It must be the oyster.
He's gotten sick.
Frémont?
Frémont?
Head of Exports is a big deal.
Given the current state of Puccini Bicycles,
it's not exactly a heavy workload right now.
The "Head of Unsold Bicycles" will be swamped, though.
Croissants? But it's not Sunday!
From now on, we'll eat croissants every day.
And we'll have breakfast in bed,
served by the maid.
You're getting a bit...
Let's take things step by step.
Right now, I'm Head of Exports.
Why? Beats me.
But here I am.
Let's not jump the gun.
You set your sights on your maid and your croissants
and I'll focus on what I don't understand
but will eventually work out one day.
Alright, I'm off.
- Bye. - Have a nice day, honey.
Thank you.
Hey! Don't forget to take out the trash.
Hey, you!
What are you doing here?
I was in the area.
And I thought: "I should give my Head of Exports a ride."
That's kind of you but I always take the moped.
- That thing? - Yes.
- If I were you... - Well, seeing as you're not...
See you in a bit.
Alright back there?
Yes, I'm quite comfortable.
No, I don't care about you.
Is Frémont OK?
Seems to be.
Say, Albert, your pal Frémont, he's a little on the fat side.
Fat? He's just big-boned.
No, no, he's fat.
Have you known each other long?
We met when we were ten. We got all the same illnesses together.
Whenever I had a bug, he'd get it too.
It was never anything serious, I hope.
Not for him. I had whooping cough.
- I don't give a crap what you had! - Sorry.
I mean, did he have any accidents?
He fell into the canal at 11.
He almost didn't come out. Couldn't swim.
Oh my God!
When I was 11 years old in Sicily I swam like a fish
and I almost died in a canal I've never seen in my life.
If mamma knew about this...
Does he know, now?
- What? - How to swim.
He's terrified of water.
Oh my God...
Hello, sir.
Twenty thousand per month, how does that sound?
Twenty thousand to be Head of Exports?
Not just that.
You'll be coming and going,
inspecting, telling me what's wrong.
Spying, basically!
Of course not, there's no spying around here!
Just inspection.
Just don't mention the 20,000 francs to the other three.
This is between you and me.
- I'll do my best. - Sorry?
I'll do my best.
What do I have to do this morning?
Something very important:
you have to learn how to swim.
Michel?
But why?
Why what, sir?
Ah, yes!
As I was saying...
Freedom for all staff members
to choose the color of their work clothes.
We'll return to the old slogan
and advertising subsidies
for the teams...
The teams here at Puccini.
The teams here at Puccini.
What's come over me?
Sir.
I don't feel so good.
Why the "ha ha"?
Give me a hand,
this isn't the cabaret!
Of course.
- May I? - Ah, I'm better now.
- You are? - Yes.
Very good.
Well, miss, we won't be needing you.
What are you doing?
After such exertion, we should check your blood pressure.
What exertion? I hope you're not insinuating...
Calm down, my friend.
I had an idea.
You're too far away from me.
I'm going to put your office next to mine.
- No. - No?
In that case, I'll make yours bigger
and move my office next door.
Not that either.
I'm used to this office and I need peace and quiet.
I'll look for a solution and I'll find one, I'm sure.
As will I.
Ta-dah! Do you like it?
- It's marvelous! - It's marvelous. It's very spacious.
Look, he could have his music here.
He'll like it here, he'll be happy.
- But it must be expensive. - Expensive, what does that mean?
I'll throw in a little bonus to cover the rent.
The important thing is that he's happy.
Well, well, well. Let's not get angry.
Let's stay calm and collected.
He gives me my job back, makes me a manager,
multiplies my salary by five and meets with my wife.
Taking into account those four facts, can we reach a logical conclusion?
Only one comes to mind.
We must rule it out as impossible and find another.
You must be a good cook.
Nice sauces, desserts?
Oh, yes.
Well, that's over now.
You'll cook him lighter meals, steamed vegetables and grilled meat.
Why?
Why? I don't want us to...
For him to have high cholesterol.
Fat in the blood, it blocks everything then one day...
He's dead.
The poor thing...
He's dead.
Poor Bruno...
It has been my pleasure, ma'am.
Thank you, Mr. Puccini.
Can I give you a kiss?
One from me.
And one from him?
That's it. The impossible is true.
For God's sake...
Hey! What's up?
If the theory is true, he'll get one too!
Why, then?
"Carniato, the good stuff from Italy!"
- That's good, right? - Am I interrupting?
Not at all. I was expecting you.
Not quite so early, but I was expecting you.
I have only one question for you:
does Puccini think
that what happens to me will happen to him too?
Yes.
- So, that's it? - Yes.
- You came up with that? - Yes.
Now it's my turn to ask a question.
Did you work it out on your own?
Yes, but it's been on my mind non-stop for three days.
Well done! I knew you would find it.
Three days is pretty good.
It's the "astral twins" theory. I read about it in a book.
Is it possible?
It's fluff, it's just nonsense.
But I really sold him on it.
I think it was one of my finest schemes yet.
And you're not complaining.
No, but I've lost my independence.
You can buy independence.
And right now, prices are great.
And what if I don't march to his tune?
That would be foolish.
You'll lose your position, I'll lose my campaign.
But I'm not worried.
Even if I tell him everything?
He won't believe you, you know that.
You're a bit crooked, aren't you?
I know how to fight my corner.
When I was young, I couldn't decide between politics and advertising.
It requires the same qualities or the same flaws.
And you decided on advertising?
Yes. There's one advantage.
When we promote a disgusting dish soap
we're not forced to go every seven years
and shake the hands of those who use it.
What's your next move?
To have a little fun, maybe.
- Pretty, don't you think? - Yes, quite stunning.
Thank you.
That was some right hook!
It got softer with age,
if you'd known me 20 years ago...
Lucky me.
That smells good!
Wow!
- Are those mushrooms? - Yes. I picked them myself.
Are you an expert?
Oh, it's not hard.
Only one species is deadly.
And it has a cap shaped like this...
- Actually, no. - No.
It's cap is shaped like this. No, I mean...
Like this or like this,
in any case, we can tell them apart.
No, thank you.
I'm very sorry.
I think I'm not a big fan.
No need to be sorry.
I can finish the lot on my own.
Goodness...
- You're going to eat all that? - Oh, yes!
I guess I'll have some then. Might as well.
In any case, you said they were safe...
You're not hungry.
No.
I'm a bit blocked up.
Here.
You're not exercising enough.
I'm going to start, I'm awfully stiff.
There are things I'd like to do if I was in the right shape.
Like what?
Get my pilot's license,
do aerobatics...
I have a friend who does that.
Dive down,
switch off the engine
then start it again at the last moment.
And mountain climbing...
When I see them on TV
hanging onto a cliff face...
A 1000 meter drop below.
You have to take your hand off the rock slowly
look for the piton on your belt.
But that other hand can't let go!
- It can't. - No.
I take the piton.
I put it in the crack.
I need to let go with the other hand
to reach for the hammer.
No, don't reach for the hammer!
Tell him.
- But it's... - Anyway...
You don't need to start mountain climbing.
Why planes? Why mountains?
Eh?
You love music.
Music is wonderful.
You don't need pitons,
there's no engine to switch off.
Yes, I know.
But when you start earning money at my age
you want to do everything.
Like kids.
Also...
Another thing.
I went for a check-up and...
A "ketchup"?
You're sick?
No, not sick.
Wear and tear.
It's the heart, instead of going...
It's going...
Basically, I eat too much.
My arteries are blocked.
So, I could have another ten years
or six months.
I might as well have some fun while I'm here
because later, when you're in the ground...
In the ground...
Are you alright, Mr. Puccini?
Yes.
Yes.
Don't touch him!
Is he seriously hurt?
Where? Here?
Ah, it's here!
Mr. Puccini, I suppose you weren't informed.
Every year we do a first aid drill.
And I'm proud to say that everyone did very well.
What's wrong with him?
You see how useful these drills are?
You see?
- Where is Frémont? - He left, chairman.
- He was here for an hour. - But it was some hour!
Alright, what did he do? What was it?
He gave some environmentalists 2000 bikes
for their protest against polluting business owners.
That was a good call.
He canceled two deliveries because the pedal straps
weren't exactly the same color as the bike.
I must add, chairman, that these deliveries
were the only two this week.
Good decision.
A Puccini bicycle must be perfect.
If you three had taken the same initiative months ago
perhaps we wouldn't be here.
Where is he, anyway?
- He left this for you. - For me?
Why didn't you give me this earlier?
Fools!
Morons!
Layabouts!
You'll be lucky if all three of you don't get fired.
He's doing your work for you, so I might as well.
He's crazy!
The fool!
He's crazy, he's crazy!
- You're here? - That's what I told you.
- Why did I think that...? - Ah, no.
I have to learn how to fly first. No.
I just came to watch. It's amazing.
Yes, it's amazing!
I don't really see the point, myself.
I don't even like an airplane like that
let alone like that...
Let's go. We have a lot of work to do.
Well, if there's work... The factory comes first, eh?
Yes, that's right.
Tomorrow we start a new life.
A nicer one?
That's up to us.
What's the matter?
It's just not as fun anymore.
It was fun for a week, like getting a new toy
but now that I've saved the factory
I'm not going to spend all my time winding up the poor guy.
He's so naive
that you end up feeling for him.
So what now?
I don't know!
I'll tell him the truth.
Whatever you think is best.
- When will you tell him? - Right away.
I know, but it has to be done.
- What sort of accident? - Michel...
OK, I'm coming. I'll be right there!
Yes.
Precisely.
He took the scooter to come and talk to me
and then, bam! A truck!
I go downstairs to go see him,
then, poof! The staircase!
Both of us are in hospital.
Isn't it extraordinary?
I'm sure, mamma.
It's definitely him.
That's right, mamma.
I'll call you tonight.
Love you, mamma.
Hello.
Hello, you.
What an adventure!
I guess it's not a good time for Virgos.
Hello.
I came to visit you both and then...
What's your sign?
Libra.
Virgo rising.
I suspected as much.
Translation: Rhona Kappler
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