Original subtitles

Shift your carcase, grandpa... The footpath's for everyone..

The insolence! Modern youth!

To put it politely... we shit on you!

- That's outrageous! - Make him be quiet!

One of those hipsters! They're ruining everything.

Money to burn and a new girl every night!

Jealous?

We should get the police.

Why not make it an H-bomb or napalm?

I'll go back into the rain... it's healthier out there.

I didn't see you, gorgeous.... You agree with me?

Sure. I'll choose the rain, too.

We won't be washed away.

Bugger it! Someone's put the top down.

They got back at you for blocking the drive.

It's a regular bathtub.

- Seeing we're so wet... - Wait on...

Bloody end of the wet season. Can't wait for Paris!

I'll be in Paris tomorrow night, by the Mistral express.

I'll take you, if you like.

Why not?!

Really?

Don't get ideas. I'm free, that's all.

I like that better.

But there's a hitch...

I don't have enough for petrol.

We'll share as friends.

That's not my style.

But I WILL be saving you your train fare.

Where do I drop you off?

Near the coach terminus at Le Cannet.

You know what? I do home deliveries.

Congratulations... you're on time.

You too, except for being 20 minutes late.

I'm hopeless with time.

Like all great dreamers.

Don't fall asleep... there's 1,000 km to go.

We know nothing at all about each other. Isn't life beautiful?

At least tell me your name.

Sylvie.

17... 18...

Born around here and good at drawing.

How do you know that?

The texture of your skin, a touch of accent...

and the India ink on your index finger.

You succeeded in creating my ID photo!

My father teaches at Grasse High School.

And I am more gifted at drawing than Latin.

Advertising?

No, fashion sketches.

I sent 6 to " Elle" magazine who said to come and see them.

So it's just a quick stay in Paris?

48 hours, with a married girlfriend from school.

With my parents' permission.

So what's YOUR name?

Alain.

You have a job?

News photographer with Paris Match.

Something's amiss... I don't like the sound of it.

Sounds like the old "car's breaking down" bullshit.

Why bullshit?

It's old ploy so you get a chance to fuck the girl.

You're totally bats.

When I want to make love, I come straight to the point.

"You want to? Don't want to?"

We'll see.

It's for real.

Is it serious?

I'll can't tell you till tomorrow, after I've dismantled the engine.

I can't wait till tomorrow.

It could be days.

Sunbeam parts have to come from Paris.

Just great!

Don't worry...

There's quite a decent hotel on the plaza...

with a fabulous wine cellar.

You'll bless your car for breaking down.

My car...

It's actually not my car.

Okay if I call Paris?

Is there a dance here?

Every Saturday, at the village hall.

Hear that, Alain? On Saturday, we can go crazy.

Bad news for you, Jean-Noel.

Your Sunbeam's engine is buggered.

Gonna cost big-time.

Send me a money-order.

Are you kidding me?

I take you to the coast, and you act like a kid....

throwing money around.

I leave the car with you, and what happens?!

Are you sending some dough?

No. I don't believe this breakdown story.

Besides, business is bad.

Stop, before I burst into tears.

Go ahead and cry, but forget about a money-order.

And you kiss your jalopy goodbye.

Or come and get it.

Rossignol's Garage, at the edge of Aix-en-Provence...

Freeway 7.

"Bye junk-dealer!

What about the Paris call?

Put it on the bill.

Stay out of sight. Better I do it solo.

You're wrong, I'm good at it.

It always works for me.

I'm sorry... I'm not a hitch-hiker.

My Sunbeam is being repaired. Could you take me to Paris?

We'll be there by tonight.

The thing is... I'm not alone.

A friend, Sylvie.

I'm Iranian, Princess Linzani.

You're a sneaky one...

But your little friend is charming

Wonderful, my friend Josette lives a stone's throw away.

We're neighbours.

How can I thank you?

You astonish me.

These days, at your age, no one says thank you anymore.

You've made a hit with the begum.

Not a begum, a princess.

It's the same thing... Mink and real pearls.

- Jealous? - You sound like my mother.

You're right, let's leave jealousy to the oldies. It keeps them busy.

- Shall I see you again? - Who knows?

Is it true that you're only staying 2 days?

I am at 'La Cage' every evening.

- The Cage? - Yes, Rue de Rennes.

- Why? - No reason.

- See you. - Bye!

He doesn't know where to put his foot next.

If that keeps up, we'll have to try somewhere else.

Hey... your buddy doesn't seem to share your opinion.

Always the same dumb things.

My husband's suit looks better on you than him.

Don't speak so loudly, or you'll compromise yourself.

No way... I'm here incognito.

Well, you'll compromise me, then.

I like to see you angry... your eyes shine like emeralds.

Don't fool around. This place crawls with fuzz.

I love your slang!

- Alain, how did the coast go? - Nothing special.

Bugger all in fact. But I got around quite a bit.

- You have a boat? - Yes, sail and steam.

- Alain, how did the coast go? - I've just answered that.

Jojo will give you the details.

Not dancing?

Going to reel in a sucker with her. She softens them up for me.

You haven't changed, always with the oldies.

You don't bother with over-20s that are Jews or Blacks.

You racist, Jojo?

Has experience taught you nothing? You get possessed.

For her, you're an object to dump in the trash can.

Do you think I'm a gigolo?

Do you two do crosswords?

I'm onto a hit.

Her husband has a big international company.

He's looking for young and distinguished collaborators

Get the picture?

I want dough, Jojo.

Lot's of dough!

That's how you get to the top.

Alain?

The same!

Jojo, Sylvie.

- Good evening. - Hi.

- Can I join you? - Of course.

Excuse me, gotta see someone.

Business must be good.

Did you get severance pay from Paris Match?

This champagne... it was some old people's who left.

Excuse me, I'm feeling tired.

Want a drink?

A Coke.

Our young travelling companion...

What a surprise!

All of Paris must end up here.

I met our mutual friend quite by chance.

It's a small world.

Want to dance?

I thought one wasn't invited here.

To do the jerk, no. To dance to the blues, yes.

Why the pout?

I'm not pouting.

The princess told the truth, it was chance pure and simple.

I'm not asking you anything.

You were only to stay two days. It went well with your drawings?

I sold five at 100 francs each. I hope to place others.

- How's your job? - Zilch.

Match knocked back my reporting.

"Obscene and biased".

I gave them my resignation.

- Like it? - What?

This place.

Here or elsewhere...

- Alain. - Yes?

Don't you want to make love?

You want to meet again tomorrow?

Tomorrow? Why?

Aren't you free tonight?

That's not it.

There are 2 guys I have to see. Business.

Are you sure they'll be waiting for you?

Singers, dancers, musicians... Not an ordinary sort of clientele.

Half Lido, half Olympia, Inspector.

They'd make a nice poster.

Lend them to us for the police gala.

Tome, you're going to be late.

I almost fell asleep. Talk about a disaster.

He works a stone's throw away, Rue Fontaine.

You're a funny sort of boss.

I'm not really boss.

I came to the city and manage here part-time.

Here we are chatting, and I still have ten of your colleagues to check.

Have fun with your far-out clientele!

Thanks.

- Goodbye, Inspector. - Goodbye.

We're full.

Not for me.

It's different for you, kid.

But you know the rules here... No hourly rates.

So how was it down in the sunshine?

Look what I bought back.

Goodness, it's Miss Riviera!

"Miss Nothing-at-all". I'm Sylvie.

Good evening.

The giantess is still here?

And she's still the smallest!

- Do you want a room? - My usual at the front.

Taken. But I can give you 7... first floor, with shower.

- It costs more. - I'll have some dough in the morning.

You pay when you get it. That's my motto.

Your chick doesn't weigh much.

If the police come, I'm good at keeping mum.

Just for one night.

You're lucky... they've just been and gone...

As you were coming in.

So, are we good?

It's funny, I can never deny you anything.

I like your hotel. And the boss, too.

They're worth the the trip.

Albert, you didn't sell my suitcase, did you?

It's in the attic, with all your clothes.

Except for your check cap that I lost in a gust of wind.

- I'll pay you back. - Forget it.

A regular poet, is our Albert. And a musician to boot.

His specialty is bedroom music.

I'll wish you a good night.

Less noise, Irma, it's 2 o'clock.

All the guests are at work.

Not all... I've put some lovers in 7.

I don't know him, but I like your editor-in-chief.

Why?

Can't you guess?

You're tanned.

You look like a real black girl from Harlem.

I went nude with some friends in this rocky cove.

We could have met.

Did an old man give you this?

Yes, he's old.

Well...

My father, for my communion.

You must have looked cute in your little wedding dress.

It'll look better on you, than on me.

Sylvie...

Don't say anything. I'm just happy that it's with you.

This lawnmower of Albert's is amazing.

Have you found your girlish skin?

That's enough of that!

You were playing games with those liberated types, while...

There was nothing to brag about.

Why did you wait so long?

I was hoping to meet a guy that I'd like.

And that guy is me.

Surely not.

But last night was good, wasn't it?

I can't compare compare.

At times... with other experiences...

You're a funny sort of girl.

Wouldn't it be fab to stay in Paris for a few days?

I need to get back to Cannes.

Bamboozle your oldies with something or other.

I could put Josette in the picture.

If either of us gets fed up we tell the other...

And stay pals, OK?

OK

Not bad, eh?

I went and got it yesterday, from my place in Passy.

Hey, the place is waking up. It must be around 5 pm.

We slept in rather long.

I need to scram... I might've found a job.

- At another rag? - No, a business.

A no-bullshit business.

Pick up your suitcase, I'm coming to get you for dinner.

With pockets full of cash.

The princess just left the hotel.

For long?

One or two months.

She didn't leave anything for Alain Langlois?

Yes.

Thank you.

That's all? Isn't there a letter, a message?

The bitch.

I was sleeping on the beach, or in youth hostels.

Those hostels are popular.

Uni students, high school graduates. They taught me a lot.

I knew that one day it would happen.

Next Monday, I'm going to an advertising agency.

Account service... a position of the future.

If Dad could only hear...

Don't tell me about that tax collector...

We just have the same name.

Make peace with him, now that you're working.

Never! He plays with millions and brings home 1,200 francs.

1,300. He's a Grade 1 clerk now.

Of course that changes everything!

One day I'll come and get you with a sensational car..

and we'll watch the impression it makes.

You're crazy.

On the contrary.

Funnily enough, I have my feet on the ground.

Look at this suit...

Secondhand, but cost 10,000, all my savings.

But then...

A person can go 3 days without eating.

I'll ask for an advance.

You have to make sacrifices to be successful.

'Bye, Mum... See you.

Alain...

Here...

If the tax-collector saw you...!

It's mine, not the Treasury's.

Near the water, near the willows

The very first sun of the month of August

stroked across your shoulder

love...

The days of yesterday

have turned into grey days today

You just left too quickly

I hear the wind that's blowing hard

The almond trees are agitated

Love has died

But I lost the rose

I lost the grain and the ear of corn

I lost every last thing

When you went away from me

Those green days, the days of yesterday...

have turned into grey days today

But I lost the rose

I lost the grain and the ear of corn

I lost every last thing

When you went away from me

Leave them alone, they didn't do anything wrong.

You should be ashamed of yourselves.

We weren’t talking to you.

I'm talking to you, you ignorant pigs!

Tell it at the station. Come with us.

- They pinched you too? - I guess I must look like you.

Keep it quiet in here!

Do you have your 20 francs?

"Jean-Emmanuel de Saint-Sever". Are you nobility?

Yes, and son of a minister.

What's the world coming to!?

I left my ID card at my place.

"My place" is not an address.

Where do you live?

27 Rue Saint-Charles, with a relative, Mrs Moretti.

Does she have a phone?

Lecourbe 41-50.

Alright. Now show that you have at least 20 francs.

- 500 francs?

Where did you get this?

I work for Elle magazine.

You can check with their night switchboard.

You should have said so earlier. My apologies.

Your ID and money.

I'll explain...

Show me the money, or I charge you with vagrancy.

This money belongs to both of us. We live together.

You, with this guy?!

You're certainly not fussy.

Money, ID!

My name's Chris. Glad to have known you.

You forgot your money.

- More use to you than me. - Who do you take me for?

Let's spend it together.

Cool! But don't get any ideas.

As pals.

I'll call the shots.

Get a load of that kid... That's me 5 years ago.

Do you remember Jo, when we hit town from the 'burbs?

We thought we were kings, too.

We were young idiots who thought we were terrific.

Mad dogs, like him.

Look...!

What the fuck's she doing with such a slimebag?

So, Alain, having a good time?

- Who's the pretty-boy? - My best friend.

- Since when? - An hour ago.

- This pretty-boy's paying for drinks. - You got cash?

- You order. - Rob a bank?

Got it from my oldies.

Cokes for everyone?

- Pineapple juice. - Me too.

5 Cokes, 2 juices. Help me?

I can see through you.

Fake beatnik, bourgeois disguised as a slimebag.

Everyone's disguised.

You come from Neuilly or de Passy, that's patently obvious.

A comedian psychologist.

When we're broke we go home to mum and dad.

No more than you. I've broken up with them.

What's your father like?

As cheerful as a balance sheet...

as warm as a gravestone.

He looks at me like an eagle that has hatched a duck.

My parents are teachers... at home, at the table and in bed.

They lecture me about everything.

Mine's it's the opposite... my mum wears my mini-skirts.

My old man's a stinker...

He counts his pennies and then puts them back in the safe.

All the same... prostrate before the god of money.

Buy, sell, profit, trade, returns.

A rotten, unfeeling, absurd world!

I'm refusing my inheritance.

You have to live on the outer... outside of society, work, conventions.

I see... so drugs.

I've tried them.

But drugs are like alcohol...

available to any weak, dim individual,

Stupid and easy.

I preferred poverty, non-violence and nirvana.

A monk's existence doesn't appeal to me.

No, the world of Maldoror, or that of Lautramont...

more fantastic and uplifting than the real one.

You never come to terms with the real thing.

You write, you sing, you sleep, but you don't act.

Your "out" life makes me laugh.

You have to be "in", in the leading pack.

Exactly! I don't want to be fooled.

There are no feelings involved... it's a waste of time.

Just get rich quick.

So you despise the oldies, but you want to be like them.

Have things better... and without dying.

Let's dance.

- I don't feel like it. - Just come!

Your change.

Picking up a slimebag like that!

I'll pick up whoever I want.

You made a pretty good choice. A filthy-rich slimebag.

I'm not interested in his money... Just in him.

Are you pissed off that I wasn't there at 8?

Am I? I don't care... do what you want.

Jealousy is only good for old people.

You're a nice girl. You and I will last a long time.

A fortnight?

A month, maybe.

Don't get carried away.

Listen... I stood you up, just to see how you would react.

I'm not mad at you.

It just pissed me off, as I had some good news.

- Good news? - I've found you an opening.

You're kidding!

Won't affect my freedom?

Photographic reportage.

Jim Riccione will put you on his team.

You proved yourself at Match.

Proved myself?

I was only a freelance...

for a pack of jackals who exploited me.

Not the same league as Riccione's.

Don't get upset, Jim trusts me.

Obviously, it is only a beginner's place.

All the same, it would piss people off.

You realize...?

I'm letting you down the day you go to bat for me.

Slap my face!

Bastard.

Yeah?

8 o'clock, kid... off to work! It's an early-rising world.

So the world is mine, Albert.

Cheers, boss.

Do you like your new life?

Going to bed at night and getting up in the morning is fun.

You get used to everything.

Not to slaving 8 hours in an office.

But with Riccione, it's worth it.

Do you know how much he makes a month?

A million, maybe.

40 to 50 thousand, without busting a gut.

He's talented.

Talent...!

Anyone can have it with the new gear these days...

and ultra sensitive film.

Only advertising stuff.

Now you know the industry.

In three months, I'll match the boss.

And it'll be us with the Mustang 350 GT.

Legs apart... fists on hips.

Now in profile.

Raise an arm and a leg in the same way.

Both hands open on each side of your face...

and hips moving

like dancing the blues.

Doesn't it occur to you that an assistant needs to be on time?!

We're done, Barbara.

You have to be first in the studio to get it ready for work.

But...

Shut up, I don't want to hear.

We're doing the second series for Playboy.

Get the lighting out of the way.

It's you, Kim!

Lie down on the sand.

Raise your left leg.

Not too much... where you feel comfortable.

Turn your head to face me.

A sweet smile. Think about your Jules.

Great.

Don't move... I'll do a close-up.

The 150, quick!

That's 2,000 francs worth!

And your fingerprints are on it!

Where did you learn your trade?

I can see now what I should do with you.

You're not on the right side of the camera.

Your place is there, naked, next to Kim.

Taught thighs... good biceps.

Two or three shots in Playboy and you'd have a clientele.

There's Riccione... Do we invite him to join us?

Could be useful.

Sure thing.

I've been looking for you for three hours.

Me?

Your boyfriend... it's nice to be of service to friends.

I got myself a jerk as an assistant.

- You're complaining about Alain? - A bit, yes.

You said he was a professional.

Where did he learn?

Paris Match.

Not at Paris Match or anywhere else. But that's not what it's about.

This morning I noticed that the 150 had vanished.

A 2,000 franc item!

It can't have been Alain. Didn't you ask him?

I needed to see him. He seems to be keeping out of sight.

He's here. He'll clear himself.

He was there a moment ago.

It's obvious then.

If by the end of the week, I don't have the lens or 2,000 francs...

I'll report it.

Understood?

Alone?

Alain will be back later.

Not too disappointed to see me?

How did you get in?

With a pass key.

I didn't want to talk to Albert.

Is it true, what Riccione said?

What?

Did you steal a lens from him?

Yes it's true! I wanted to dump it in the Seine.

In the Seine?

You don't believe me?

You think I pinched it to sell it?

To get 4.50 francs at the flea-market?

That bastard treated me like a whore!

Like a whore, you hear?

I wanted to dump that lump of glass in the Seine.

You don't believe me?

No.

Well, look what I'll do with it!

Alain!

Totally fucked! ' End of subject. Into the bin!

What's going on there?

Don't worry, Albert, broken glass brings good luck.

If he doesn't get 2,000 francs, he'll report it to the police.

He reports it, and I'm locked up...

That'd make me laugh.

Not me.

I'll ask for an advance on my drawings.

No, my pet, I don't ever want a penny from you.

I'll find the dough to pay this back.

How?

Don't fret....

I have scores to settle. I'll take care of it tomorrow.

Mr Alain Langlois is asking to see the princess.

She's gone out?

About twenty years old, Your Excellency.

Yeah, pretty good.

As you wish, Your Excellency.

You can go up to Apartment 715.

Your Excellency?

Come on in, dear sir.

I would never have come uninvited if I'd known the princess was absent.

She'll be sorry to have missed you.

Are you the young hitchhiker?

A charming boy, well behaved...

excellent dancer.

My wife didn't exaggerate the description.

- There's nothing to exaggerate. - Oh yes, there is.

Eyes like yours would inflame anyone's heart.

I'm serving you this venerable malt whisky...

in a glass...

from Isfahan.

Cheers, Your Excellency.

As a poet from my country wrote...

"Dedicate to the smile of a teenager the cup that is like his mouth."

So we dedicate.

Now let's talk seriously.

Because isn't that why you came here?

Yes.

The princess gave me a glimpse of a possible situation.

Here we are.

The ball's in your court.

In my court.

She'll always be the same.

She loves to make promises to the friends she dates.

And fuel their young ardour with skilful lies.

She's a bit perverse.

Are you having me on?

Don't get upset...!

I'd love to be nice to you.

I like you infinitely more than the other boys I've known...

...in passing.

I'm a specialist in Persian miniatures...

a difficult specialty...

which requires a great deal of experience...

an almost instinctive familiarity as to breeding...

and education.

I should leave.

Not so fast...

You see, with you, I'd like to have tried an experiment...

For example, bringing you close beside me.

You wouldn't refuse me?

Go on.

No point.

I'm not like my wife.

With me...

those things are of no interest.

Forgive me.

Absolutely not.

Me neither, even if you offered me a fortune.

Allow me to say I doubt it.

I'll knock your face in!

I was just kidding.

Yes, we were both kidding.

Life is so dull.

One has to to put a little spice into it.

As in Iranian cuisine.

Come in.

You rang, Sir?

Just a moment.

You'll excuse me if I don't drive you home.

Please give your wife my appreciation, Your Excellency.

She makes love with art and technique...

which can only be described...

as unforgettable.

Excuse my indiscretion...

but you seemed to have come out of a suite on the odd side...

- Apartment 715. - With a view of the Eiffel Tower?

How did you get it?

My adoptive father took it for the year.

For the year? I can't compete with that.

Madame.

Taxi, quick!

You can take my taxi. It was the only one on the rank.

- I won't deprive you of it. - I'll drop you off.

It would be with pleasure, if I wasn't going so far from Paris.

- Marseilles or Bordeaux? - Almost.

Neuilly... Boulevard Maillot.

Boulevard Maillot... go by way of the Bois.

I don't know why I should be wasting your time.

In a life that's all work, it's wonderful to breathe a little.

Businessman?

Expert in Persian miniatures.

My adoptive father is a very great specialist.

Are you of Iranian origin?

No.

My real father was a diplomat, stationed in Tehran.

He died in a plane crash, together with my mother.

My name is Alain Langlois, I'm not nobility.

- By education and courage, yes.

I'm Nadine Sinclair, the publisher's ex-wife.

You are!?

I'm having my apartment refurbished.

I'd love to show it to an art lover like you.

As things stand at the moment... an hour more or less...

Stop here!

I'm living at the Hilton, until it's all done.

How do you like what you see?

Awful, isn't it?

That's the opinion of my friend Francois Dubreuil...

of the old Goncourt Prize.

Too solemn.

It needs to be brightened up with a romantic landscape...

a panorama on vintage paper...

with foliage, water features, a hunt...

Here, a bare wall, just displaying a beautiful piece of furniture.

And I mean beautiful!

Such as?

A Chippendale secretaire with a central flap.

No doubt, but where do you find one?

That's no trouble at all.

Let’s try this Empire bed

It's cold, hard, inhospitable.

You're right.

You need a bed with snow-white curtains...

immaculate, dreamlike.

A bed where you can lose yourself, body and soul.

Could you find one for me?

Unfortunately not.

I've no time at all.

Despite appearances, I have to make a living.

I've allowed for a big budget with commensurate fees.

- Well, just please you. - You're so kind.

Where can I reach you?

At my consultancy, Montmartre 64-27.

Oh, it's you.

Happy to see me, Jean-Noël?

You sure have a nerve.

Do you know how much I got for my Sunbeam?

- 500 cash? - You think it's funny?

Calm down. I'll pay you back a hundredfold.

I can get you top dollar for this bed.

For your Chippendale secretaire, too.

It's not Chippendale, it's Regency.

No matter. I can even move your old Louis-in-the-undergrowth, on paper.

You found a client?

A lady client.

I see.

Nothing's going on... It's serious business.

With you, that would surprise me.

I'm going to really surprise you, sweetie...

Maybe even surprise myself.

- Are you Algerian-French? - No, from Clermont-Ferrand.

But I did my service in Algiers.

Baritone sergeant in the catering corps.

At the colonel's party, I sang Grieux from Manon.

A real tragedy!

I introduced myself at the Algiers opera competition.

Ever engaged?

As manager... to give the 3 knocks.

That's life.

First prize at the conservatory,

I ended up being a pianist in a night club.

You can be an artist in a bordello.

After we have a bite to eat,

we could go to Castel as a change from La Cage.

Yes, the consultancy.

You want to speak to Prince Linzani?

Ah, Mr Langlois? I'll see if he's here.

Someone wants you.

A woman?

Alain Langlois.

It's Mrs Sinclair.

I wanted to sort out the details of our collaboration.

Just one moment.

It's that old dame I told you about.

I'm here.

We could go over it all this evening.

This evening? That could be difficult.

What a pity, I was intending to invite you for dinner.

I'll see if I can free myself.

8pm at Fouquet's?

Then we could go back to look at the apartment.

The electricity is cut.

We'll look at it by moonlight.

It's great for inspiration.

Make out my bill...

Thanks to moonlight, I'll be able to settle it.

It's in the bag!

Mother Sinclair wants to finalise it this evening.

This evening? Where?

Her son, the publisher, is inviting me to dinner.

Sorry about our nosh-up. Have to stand you up again.

As long as you get the deal.

You're a brick!

Wait for me at Castel with Jojo. Dance and have fun.

Not like me with the geriatric.

I'll be as quick as I can.

I'm going to bed. He's not coming.

He's probably not enjoying where he is.

I'm sorry, I couldn't get away.

Getting an advance from the old bird.

- Cash? - No, a cheque.

Tomorrow I'll throw her money at your photo booth.

I'm suffocating.

Take her outside... you'll feel better.

Leave it, she's paid. She's a cool kid.

Take her out.

Let's get some fresh air.

Which one do you want?

Do you like this one?

You're not going to...

Don't panic, we'll just take it for an hour.

The Yank won't even notice.

Engine problems?

Okay, excuse me.

- Going back? - No, we'll keep going.

You're insane. What if a cop stops us?

No risk with me... I'm lucky.

Fresh air, the speed... it's great.

It cleans everything.

Where are we going?

To a place you don't know, by the sea.

You forget I was born by the sea.

You were born near a lake.

The sea has big waves.

Seagulls, wind and clouds that streak across the sky.

Aren't you stopping the engine?

Impossible, the way I've connected it.

Low tide. Lousy for swimming.

How beautiful the great desert of sand is.

So clean,

so smooth.

Shall we run to the water' edge?

There's a long drive.

Too bad, I'd have liked to splash, to dive...

soak myself from head to toe.

You're completely nuts.

I have an idea, come on.

- What are we going to do? - Pinch another one.

We've taken enough risks already.

Let's go back safely, by train.

I knew you'd end up chickening out.

You're ridiculous with your miniature tree.

Paris is covered with fir trees.

The nude dancer on the 2nd floor got an advance.

Empty till and hand on heart.

And on the phone.

- I've had some calls? - Some, yes!

Just this afternoon... half a dozen.

Including 2 guys who didn't leave a name.

The ladies and gentlemen wanted the decorator, Alain Langlois.

I didn't leave the messages in your room.

Did Mrs d'Embrun leave a message?

"For tonight, it's okay." She'll give you the meeting time.

You're abandoning your girl for Christmas Eve?

No foolish bourgeois prejudices.

Sylvie and I are beyond that.

Hello, Vera? It's Alain.

I missed you by five minutes at the gallery.

What do you think about the black and gilded bronze desk?

Wonderfully unusual. A stroke of genius.

See you tonight?

Tonight, I can't make myself free.

You're not over with the Femina Award?

There's no one else but you.

But I spend Christmas with my folks. In Sologne. It's a drag!

I would have liked so much to be with you for Christmas.

Lousy luck!

Kisses, sweetie... Merry Christmas.

- You should write romances. - I've thought about it.

One day I'll write a bestseller, based on my life.

I was on the phone for you just now.

For me?

To Vera, at the picture gallery.

To exhibit your works.

I draw fashion figures, I'm not Picasso.

If I had your talent, I'd be turning Picassos out by the ton...

and be rolling in dough.

- Where are you going? - To the agency.

I'll take you, I have Jean-Marc's car.

I forgot my cigarettes, I'll be right back.

Back again?

Tell Evelyne d'Embrun that I'll stop by to see her at 10pm, OK?

- OK. - Ciao.

Gear's grinding. Jean-Marc should have it looked at.

He's way too tight-fisted for that.

Just leave it by the roadside, like you did with the Sunbeam.

Never. That car was a bomb.

This car goes really well.

So you are capable of being faithful?

You are the proof, sweetie.

A little Christmas present.

Don't blame me...

I've been invited by the Chambre Decorators Society.

A Christmas shindig with the big boys of the trade.

You're not going to dump me on Christmas night too?!

Christmas, Christmas...

Chestnut turkey and Yule log...

Doesn’t a girl like you find it disgusting?

Excuse me if I don't wait for you at the agency.

I still have an errand.

Someone important to see.

We leave each other like that, until tomorrow?

Alright then, I'll skip the Decorators' Society.

What does my future matter?

No, go to your dinner.

I'll spend the time working

Isn't that crazy? A party night?

Forget the drawing board.

Go to beddy-byes like a good girl and wait for me.

Tomorrow we'll make love all day.

Hi, long-hair... I thought I'd find you here.

Remember me?

The beast with long teeth. How many tamers devoured?

Any within reach.

Achieving your goal?

I'm getting there. But I need your help.

No kidding? How can I help you?

Tonight, a rave-up will decide my existence.

I thought of you for the right thing to wear.

Funny guy! Want my jacket and my jeans?

No, your tux. I'll bet you have a great one.

I do have one. How did you know?

I know the bourgeoisie... Your father would have given you one.

For my cousin's engagement. A disgusting dinner of bigwigs.

But you too... You're a Ranelagh moppet.

What have you done with your tux?

Flogged it when I was broke.

I don't want to chat you up.

I'm not from Passy, I'm from the outer 'burbs.

On account of your candour, you have my friendship,

my tux, and my patent-leather shoes.

If you can get into them.

I always get into where I want, one way or another.

You, Mr Christian!? And the state you're in!

A natural state, Gaston.

You'd never understand.

Madame will be happy that you're here for Christmas.

Don't say anything to my mother, I'm here and gone.

You haven't seen me, Gaston.

You're wrong, Sir... Come and see the girls' Christmas tree.

Gaston... are you talking to yourself?

If he gets too senile, he'll have to be put down.

My beloved little sisters.

Nice décor.

Unusual buttoning... Like a fucking Cardin.

Dress shirt.

Bow tie.

Shoes.

The full outfit.

It's suffocating in here.

A bit of air!

You're crazy to have dumped all this.

The wheel turns.

The chicks abandon the mother-hen

for the banks of the Seine.

The world is fucked.

I should have been born in this crib.

You'll score yourself a more beautiful one...

when you catch the daughter of the Chicago abattoirs...

or the ex-wife of a Greek oil man.

You're the sort who'll create a new bourgeois dynasty.

That sounds quite plausible.

Sorry, I don't have an evening dress...

For Sylvie.

It's a men-only function. Sylvie stays home.

All alone at Christmas?

You're in good with her... Ask her out.

And you'd take my suit back to the hotel.

And your breakfast in bed, tomorrow morning?

Where are you going, fair Iseult?

Is Sylvie here?

Who are you?

Alain asked me to see her.

The young Mr Big is hard up.

His girlfriend went out, looking excited.

Didn't even say goodbye.

Where is she?

No idea.

But if she does something stupid, Alain can't be surprised.

He comes home at 8am... When he comes back.

She loves him, that's for sure. But does he love her?

Who can tell, with these whirlwind love affairs?

- Like to kip with me? - I wouldn't say no.

It's gonna be fun.

Hands off! It'll be when I want to.

Chris. What are you doing here?

I'd like a word with you.

Say it, slimebag!

It doesn't concern you.

Explain to him that you and I are celebrating together.

Don't interfere with my private life.

Are you really going home with this guy?

Why not?

Do you know who you're dealing with?

He'll take you to a cellar with a mob of people...

with mattresses, curtains, photos of idols.

You're well informed.

I know these guys like the back of my hand.

As soon as you fall into the trap, the whole gang will arrive.

They'll turn up their transistor and the show will begin.

Heard about gang-rape?

Go away!

I can see you're drunk!

We'll go outside... it'll calm you down.

- Let go of me! - Come on!

You're the one doing the raping... And you say you're non-violent!

Did you get yourself plastered because of Alain?

Alain's only a friend.

Did he send you?

I came to La Cage to find you.

Since that Montmartre evening, I've often thought of you.

Me too.

Something tells me you think especially about Alain.

Alain does HIS thing, I do mine.

Everyone is free.

If you feel like it, you can come up.

I would enjoy no pleasure, given only because of someone else.

Using sex as revenge, disgusts me.

Does sex mean anything, in this day and age?

Don't recite that free-love catechism. With you, it does mean something.

I see, Love with a capital L... What a joke!

You all make me laugh. You don't care about feelings.

You pretend to have no hang-ups, to be liberated.

The New Woman. The New Man.

But look at you.

You display more passion, pain and jealousy...

than previous generations.

But we don't do melodrama... we grit our teeth.

"bye.

Sylvie...

Listen...

Instead of moping alone... come wake up with me.

Under a bridge?

I'm invited to the home of some amusing friends.

I'm in no mood to laugh.

Stay in the dark, thinking about Alain?

Stop talking about Alain.

Come along.

Dressed like this?

You're fine as you are.

I usually eat like a bird.

But my waistline be damned!

It's not a buffet... it's a table fit for a king.

More champagne?

Not at the moment, thanks.

You'll turn Mum's head, Ugo.

That’s all I ask.

- Is he with the redhead? - No, the little brunette.

Sixteen years old, dancer.

The mother lives here to keep up appearances...

for better or worse.

Everyone is happy... and me, set to weep.

That American tour will deprive me of you.

- Only four weeks. - In other words, an eternity.

My dear Evelyn, do you have what you want?

Everything...

And more, in fact.

Indeed. But where's Charles?

Asleep in my bed, as usual.

You were separated.

In spirit, yes, but alas, not physically.

Like my Thumbelina?

Just a titbit for an ogre like you.

Or an ogress like you.

The caviar is fabulous.

Guaranteed genuine, like the furniture, carpets, guests, everything.

Apart from the host.

They say that Ugo is descended from a pope.

He is the son of a Calabrian stonemason.

He has merit. Started from nothing to get a racing stable...

ownership of a weekly and a private radio station.

Quite an achievement.

A taste for gambling with other people's money.

He keeps his own money in Switzerland.

He's made a fortune out of high-rise apartment blocks.

Made billions out of building dog-box apartments! Clever guy!

He abandoned the dog-boxes

for residential estates named after royal favourites.

La Vallière, Montespan, Pompadour,

Du Barry.

Fake gold and fake marble, for the social climbers.

What's more, our man is a patron of the arts.

He accommodates artists... Painters, musicians, actors.

He subsidizes a ballet company.

A nursery of kittens for the old tomcat.

Remind me of your name.

Oh, Ugo...! This is Alain Langlois, the decorator.

How could I have forgotten? I've admired you since your debut.

Excuse me.

I have a surprise...!

Something new, bizarre... and a bit terrifying.

How can he know me? I've never met him.

Ugo knows everything... it's his specialty.

This is Ugo Castellini...

a cross between Mazarin and Al Capone.

Sylvie, no title.

But not without charm or beauty.

I was afraid you weren't coming.

I keep my promise.

The man without a roof and the man with 100,000 roofs.

Just over 200,000.

He came to listen to me sing in Montmartre.

"He showered me with golden rain."

My apologies for not knowing the quotation.

You invited the young ruling class?

I'm the slimebag among technocrats.

They are broad-minded.

And the backbone of power.

- Who is it? - I'll explain.

May I...?

One of your clients, no doubt?

Congratulations... I've seen worse.

You're too kind, Miss.

It's true, from a distance, your silhouette looks very young.

Up close too. I'm 29 years old.

That would be surprising.

I'm being attacked! Defend me!

- Are we on familiar terms? - Did you finish your number?

We want to make a surprise, and everyone knows each other.

I'd like you to meet my sister.

Your sister?

Quite a coincidence...

She's delightful.

And under-age.

I entrust her to you.

Feel right at home. Order anything you feel like.

Scotch, champagne?

A beatnik only drinks red wine at 13 degrees.

And no caviar, I hate sturgeon sperm.

Camembert and meatballs.

Work out how to find what the gentleman asks for.

With the red and the snacks...

...some gob-sticks, no Tampax.

Pardon?

That's Gauloises, no filter.

You don't speak modern French?

It's funny, you never told me about your sister.

Do you ever talk to me about your husband?

A good idea to bring Sylvie, right?

It was funny.

Funny?

You ruin my job by insulting those who give me work.

Well you're screwing up my life.

Little bitch.

- Can I remove you, dear colleague? - Colleague in what?

- Aren't you a decorator? - Never after midnight.

For you, I will make an exception.

Excuse me, we're going to talk business.

For my new high-rise, 'La Belle Gabrielle',

I need a nice showcase apartment.

Ah yes, the showcase apartment.

The famous subscriber trap.

Don't believe self-serving gossip journalists.

I never cheat on my clients.

But let's drop the showcase apartment.

It's not worthy of your talent.

How about the decorating for a city of billionaire...s

on Cape Camarat...

near Saint-Tropez?

Without hesitation, yes.

I knew we'd get along.

I do enjoy a fight.

Me too. I was a fighter-pilot.

Langlois.

Where do you live?

Sometimes under a bridge, with Chris.

I like the bohemian, it inspires.

But right now, I'm living in a hotel in Pigalle...

with my sister.

Would you like to be accommodated?

In one of your dog-boxes? Well, thanks.

No, you young beast...

I'm offering to put you up here.

In this hotel?

I offer you a workshop-studio right here.

You'll put your genius to service my city of billionaires.

Impossible, I can't leave my sister alone in Paris.

I was counting on your bringing her here.

I'd be happy to make a room available to her.

Where is Sylvie?

I'm not going to lie to you. After what you said, she fled.

That's clever... Just as we hit the jackpot.

Don't get mad at her.

Besides, she was right. Tonight, insolence pays.

- Are you splitting for good? - Call me a cab.

What's going on?

You're just in time.

To say goodbye to me.

You're crazy, you can't leave, just like that!

Let's not make a scene, we're not oldies.

We'd split as good friends. Remember?

Are you leaving over what I said at Ugo's?

No, I'm leaving you o account of everything else.

What else?

Your 'business meetings', your connections, male and female...

my nights of waiting...

and your comings home, stinking of love.

None of this is my business. Shall I go?

You know everything anyway. Call the cab.

It's engaged.

We've always been free.

Freedom doesn't mean to be allowed to lie and deceive.

We either sleep with whoever we like, or we live together properly.

No other choice.

Here in 3 minutes. Miraculous!

Keep your miracles to yourself!

Alright, so I was screwing... but it was just to get business.

Ask Albert how these women are

with a handsome boy without connections.

So I had to play the game.

But believe me, it meant nothing.

At best, as exciting as drinking a cup of tea, or a Coke.

At worst, a session at the dentist.

All this to end up zero.

What do you know? Everything's going great.

So much the better. I leave you doing well.

I've never loved anyone but you, I swear.

Look, I swear to you on my future.

Forget it. The taxi's due.

Thanks for everything, Albert.

Give him another chance.

Listen to him! It's not the time to leave.

Castellini is offering me the contract of decorating for a city of billionaires.

- It's all in you imagination. - I've never been so serious.

I need you.

Before, I chose the furniture alone.

Now, we'll need sketches. I thought about you.

You'll manage, without my involvement.

Waite.

All that shit is over with. We'll be partners.

No, Alain, no.

It's a great opportunity for us both.

Too bad.

Don't be stupid... You'll only feel real love once.

Don't let it blow away.

Listen to him... we love each other!

No, Alain, no.

Should I make tea?

We had supper after the theatre.

Goodnight, Ugo.

Goodnight.

Every night, you're a little more adorable.

Goodnight.

Wonderful evening, wasn't it?

Don't worry, I get it.

Get what?

This whole set-up.

What set-up?

The interior decorating... the city of billionaires...

It's all a set-up for...

For?

To get me into Ugo's bed.

Ugo, in love with you. News flash!

Don't play innocent.

Are you sure of what you are saying?

I haven't noticed anything.

I would have caught a hint.

Didn't you notice his gifts?

Are the dresses, the jewellery for nothing?

What about your suits and your shirts?

- Simply an advance on the work.

There hasn't been much talk about work.

A bit at mealtimes, and such.

I'd nothing to do with the old guy's heatstroke.

If it was heatstroke.

What are you complaining about? He hasn't assaulted you.

It's been three weeks.

His patience will have limits.

You're smart enough to hold out on him.

You take me for a tease, a whore?

You're not thinking straight.

With all your carry-on, you've missed a funny show...

and a very real one, at that.

The maid has taken a fancy to me.

The little Japanese? She's charming.

Chasing after housemaids is for old guys.

I've discouraged her, but she persists.

Aren't you bragging a bit?

You'll see.

In this place, the servants provide night service.

Come in, gorgeous.

Is there something you want, Sir?

Yes.

My leopard-skin briefs... I’ve looked for them everywhere.

You haven't seen them, have you?

No, Sir.

Are you quite sure you haven't seen them?

Briefs or no briefs... go to bed. Be good.

It's the first time that I've seen you be mean...

...just for fun.

If you're going to carry on, I prefer to sleep in my room.

Yes?

No.

Now?

Alain, can I come in? It's me.

Where have you been?

I was reading in the library.

All that time?

Don't you have enough books here?

I was consulting a work on American decoration.

For the job.

What's the matter with you?

What else have you imagined?

You know very well that I'm a night owl.

I'm not one to lie in bed.

I'm coming and going all night.

Do you walk the streets in your dressing gown?

Not on the street, of course.

All over this place.

It's amazing at night!

Galleries, corridors, the great halls peopled with ghosts.

I don't believe in ghosts.

Especially those that hand out dressing gowns.

Meaning what?

Did you find this dressing gown on a suit of armour?

Do you want to know where I found it?

Want to know?

It was the geisha who gave it to me.

Funny cut for a kimono.

Not more likely to be from Place Vendome?

Fucking shit...! Believe what you want.

You thought about it...? No regrets?

No regrets.

You won't hold out... You'll come back.

No, Chris. It's over with Alain.

I've put an end to it.

You'll end up burying yourself in the family vault.

Pass me the suitcase through the window.

What if I asked you to stay...? For me?

Too late.

That needed to have happened when I came to find you.

You only needed to have said the word.

It's better this way. You deny it, but you're heart is elsewhere.

Nothing to be proud of.

The world is stupid, isn't it, sir?

Excuse me?

Stop this young girl from committing suicide!

He must be drunk!

Or drugged, like everyone else.

A single drug, humour, not given to everyone.

I like you, Chris.

I love you, as you love Alain.

So, long-hair, what are you doing here?

I came to see you.

Well, get an eyeful!

You're here at last! We haven't seen you lately.

- I've been busy. - Chasing skirt?

Anything that fell into my net.

Fauna, flora, fish big and small.

With that bitch Sylvie out of my hair, I've been making up for lost time.

Careful what you say doesn't come back to bite you.

With her, I was living off empty promises.

Habits, pretenses, lies... the whole puppet show.

- Long live liberty. - Long live love.

Don't play the rebel. You're just like the oldies...

...ripe for marriage, and a new brat every year.

She wanted you for herself, but you want to be everyone's.

Are you plastered?

It's okay, I had it coming.

I'm sorry... things aren't going well.

You'll never guess what I did.

I broke up with Castellini.

I fucked up the opportunity of a lifetime.

Can you believe it? A guy like me.

Do you know where she's living?

No idea.

You? Leave me alone, I don't ever want to see you.

Open the door!

Open it!

I'll stay here until you change your mind.

No point... Go away!

Never! I'll camp in the garden.

All day and night, if necessary.

My parents are on there way here.

So much the better... We'll get to know each other.

I'd rather they don't know you. Let's go out.

Don't think you've won. I won't forgive this blackmail.

Don't be bitchy.

You have to listen to me, so you understand.

Speak, then... I shan't respond.

A question and answer session would drive me nuts.

I've come 1,000 km to find a stubborn chick

with neither heart nor voice.

Does that remind you of anything?

Weren't we happy, naked in that pool?

Judge me, if you like... but don't condemn me outright.

I'm not the best-looking guy in the world, but I'm pretty good.

Not my fault.

In kindergarten, I was teacher's pet.

I had the cross every Saturday.

In high school, mothers of friends ogled me.

I quickly understood.

Women in our time lead the world.

They lead, preside, decide.

Doctors, dentists, stars or CEOs...

...They put you under review.

If you're good for service, you don't get lost in the herd.

It's through sex that they hang on to us.

The great business of modern life.

Selling sex or using sex to sell.

In songs, movies, TV, lingerie...

cars, cookware, politics,

and even religion.

For a kid born in a council flat, it makes his head spin.

I made myself sexy, on demand.

I wanted a lot of money, right now.

Now it's all over.

I dropped that bullshit... and Ugo as well.

He's quite a guy though...

From nothing to nobility.

My aspiration.

After you left, I stayed less than a week with him.

I've been ugly, rude, disgusting,

on purpose for you.

To prove that it's you I love.

But speak, yell at me!

You're wasting your time.

I'll get a job... I'll work at the markets if need be.

Just more bullshit!

That's enough. Come back now.

The Paris train won't be long.

Get up, don't be silly.

We love each other.

Just in time. I wouldn't have moved.

That would've been clever.

Hi, babe.

What a surprise.

Nasty surprise?

On the contrary.

Just tell me what it means.

You don't get it? You're in long-hair's good books.

If you'd discouraged me I would have got a lawyer.

Someone else is always better at pleading your cause.

All the same, you betrayed me.

How?

By giving my address to Alain.

You regret that?

You'll never regret it... or I'll raise hell!

Another pal's car?

No, it's mine.

I've found work.

Car salesman for an Italian make.

They've put me up in a great apartment...

Boulevard Maillot, opposite the park.

I'll have it fixed up. In the meantime, we'll go to Albert's.

- Just for a few days. - Sure.

Hop in!

May I bring my toothbrush?

I'll come with you.

I can trust you to come back?

Is that a question?

A pure marvel of Italian Renaissance art.

Notice the finesse of the ivory inlays.

A piece of furniture of exceptional quality...

in its original state...

good enough to be a museum piece.

Superb in every detail.

The curve of the feet...

the exquisite design of the drawers...

the richness of the marquetry.

Tortoise shell brought back by Venetian navigators.

Can you ship it to Paris?

Yes, ma'am, in a special packaging,

for this unique piece.

May I take a look at it?

Sorry, Sir, I just sold it to Madame.

That's alright... I haven't made my decision.

In that case...

A few scratches.

Restored inlays.

Faulty mechanism.

- Is it signed? - No but...

How much?

11,000.

I saw the same in Monaco, yesterday, with the arms of the Grimaldi...

for 9,000 francs.

Excuse me, Madam.

You are truly incorrigible.

What are you thinking?

Just a matter of business. I know about antiques.

I hope we don't have to hitch-hike this time.

You know very well that everything's changed, sweetie.

Just ask Chris.

Now it's just us...

Us alone.

It's going to be wonderful.

Subtitles by FatPlank for KG