Here...
we are...
still...
alone...
It is all so slow,
so heavy...
so sad...
Soon...
I...
will be...
old...
and...
it will...
at last...
be over...
I came to say I'm leaving you.
Your tears won't change my mind.
You remember happy days gone by...
Hello, Henry.
Don't say that.
You told me to clear out, so I did.
I have Pimpernel with me.
We're driving to the mountains.
Don't say that.
Don't.
Don't say that.
Hello, Henry.
It's Maité.
You told me to clear out, so I did.
I have Pimpernel and the car.
We're going to the mountains.
I've got all your poems and crappy paintings.
You know where I'm going to dump them all?
In the water, Henry. In the river.
In the river.
Don't hang up. Listen to this...
Look, Pimpernel! All the lights went out.
What's the date?
24 May 1983
It's 10:20.
Thomas!
Hi.
Terrible heat.
I like it here.
The river, the highway...
Right.
She's a great girl.
Yes.
Of course, you know how it happened.
You know the story.
She's deaf in one ear...
the left ear.
She was sleeping on her good ear,
I said to her: "You're a love."
Startled, she turned to me and asked me how I knew.
How I knew.
I played along...
That's how I found out.
I would have anyway...
Florence is a lousy liar.
She thought I'd said, "You've got a lover."
I figured it out fast.
I was relieved that I knew him.
Even if he was my best and only friend.
And now she's gone.
Shit!
I never thought I'd get to that.
It's not like me at all.
That's crazy.
Florence's favourite colours...
She took everything, the bitch.
Where are you going?
Out.
Why don't you talk to me?
Mireille...
Sorry, but I can't talk about it here and now.
So go talk about it elsewhere.
- Mireille. - Yes.
I forgot my keys.
Leave them in the box if you go out.
I'm not going out.
You don't love me anymore.
What did you say?
- You heard me, Bernard. - Yes.
But don't say that, Mireille. Why did you say that?
I know it's not easy.
I'm indifferent to you but you're not indifferent to me.
I love loving you but my head's a mess.
It took us a while to love each other equally.
I watched your love catch up with mine.
And when it did, a tune started going round in my head.
You know I love it when we kiss.
But then the tune went,
"What's she doing here? Who's that monster?"
"How dare she touch me with her mouth?"
"She must think I like it!"
"Her breath stinks."
I know you smell good,
but I convinced myself that you stink.
When I look at you, it's not your beauty I see,
but the space you take up: Standing, sitting or lying down.
All your living space.
As I watch you the tune goes,
"I don't want this girl any more."
I don't want anyone else to have you, yet I don't want to be loved. It disgusts me.
The few times we talk now, I can't take you seriously.
I talk and listen, but I'm watching you.
I see your shell
and insult you silently to hurt me.
Then I feel pity for you,
and myself.
So I hate us,
lonelier together than apart,
who could ever love us?
We're gluey together.
I want it to be like before...
To stop all the spying...
to stop all the sabotage...
Bye, angel, I won't be home late.
My name is Bouriana.
The problem with loners is that they're never alone.
- Yes. - What will it be?
A small lemonade.
No small drinks after 10:00pm.
How about a large?
Well?
- Well? - A glass of milk.
Bouriana... I'll hold.
Give me a beer.
How much?
That'll be 7.45.
I'm holding.
Excuse me.
Can I buy you a coffee?
Thank you.
That's right. I'm Bouriana.
This gentleman is paying for my coffee.
Bouriana! "B" as in Bouriana,
"O" as in Ouriana, "U" as in Uriana,
"R" as in Riana, "I" as in lana,
"A" as in Ana, "N" as in Na,
and "A" as in Alfred. Alfred Bouriana!
We're having a real heat wave...
Your emotional blackmail...
it's like making love in the shit house...
You can't fool me! It's too late for your love.
I won't fall for that!
1970 - 1976 High School.
F cheats on me. 18 May 1983
1st shoplifting 1968 - Bookshop.
I won't fall for that!
First lie to F. 13/3/81.
My Bank
Luxembourg Park Readings 1977 - 1979.
Born: Cochin Hospital 1960
1st night with F. 2/1/81, 7 rue Pascal.
Hospital, April 1980 Hernia
1st Kiss F. 22/11/80
I meet F. 2/6/80.
First murder attempt 25/5/83.
The air is so still.
Let's put on a fresh shirt!
Now you're mad!
How can you want to make love,
when the world's such a mess?
Are you blind?
You act so cute, but you're just an animal!
You feed on rotten meat,
laced with tenderness.
You like it?
Not me. Can't you smell it?
You must have a cold!
Or else you'd puke!
You ask me what's come between us?
Life, that's what!
Isn't that enough for you?
I'm gonna hit you!
Watch out! Here it comes!
You gotta hit.
You gotta hit. Hit!
I'm gonna hit!
I'm hitting!
You can't leave, Anna. We live together.
Good evening.
One, two, three and four.
Alex? It's your father.
- Hi. How are you? - Fine.
What time is it?
6:39.
The telephone startled me...
It was a sort of déjà vu...
like a memory of the present.
That's why... I'm in a daze.
- Tomorrow I'm... - I know, that's why...
- Let's drop it. - All right.
- You heard about Aunt Violette? - No.
- She didn't die. - Why should she?
They're keeping her alive on a drip-feeder.
A plumber's nightmare!
- It's dreadful. - That's not new.
I'm counting on you.
If I get senile - bang!
Who wants to be a bedridden vegetable!
Remember our contract!
You put a bullet in my brain! Promise.
I'm not kidding, Alex. Swear it!
I already did.
Unless I die first, of course.
Cut that out, you arsehole! Shit!
Bernard dear,
I'm giving a party at my place Friday,
to celebrate the 10th anniversary of Stan's death.
Bring Mireille with you.
Faster!
Your turn now.
Your turn. Play with me a little.
Then we'll turn over and begin.
Then what?
What is it?
I'm lost.
Wasn't it good?
Not really.
Something's wrong...
What?
I don't know.
What's wrong?
I don't like it so wet.
You salivate too much.
I feel like...
You're like Alex - you like it dry, so it almost hurts.
It doesn't hurt.
I prefer touching when it's not so wet.
It's nicer with saliva.
For you.
Don't disappoint me yet... So soon...
I thought you liked it that way.
But I was wrong.
Tell me when you don't like what I do,
so I don't waste time.
What don't I like?
When I take you in my mouth and salivate.
I meant when I do it for you.
But I like it when it's wet.
I assumed you'd like what I like.
- I was wrong. - No...
Like putting a finger in.
I didn't like that with Alex at first.
Now I do.
But you clench up before I can get it in.
So we get nowhere.
You know why.
I know.
You only let me put my finger in when I suck you.
But I come too fast that way.
Then you complain.
No. When I want to give you pleasure,
I don't mind that.
So you say.
I love to hear you moan,
even softly.
And if you weren't so passive...
like Alex...
I'd do it more often.
Be right back.
Cheater.
Me, I'm a sneaky opportunist,
a child of sacrifices...
Me and my shitty arsehole, blisters,
my insatiable shoes...
They judge us by our shoes.
His feet were often so sore,
he'd put ice cubes in his shoes.
I tried it once.
It helped at first, but then it hurt even more.
My feet were growing... So was my soul...
I was becoming sublime in every way.
I'm Bernard's friend.
He just left.
The poor boy had a stomachache.
Mireille is still here. Come in.
You know Mireille, his girlfriend?
Do you work nights at the post office with Bernard?
No. I'm an... oceanographer.
We've got some very special people here tonight.
That little boy
has the highest IQ for his age in all of Europe.
That little man there
is the human time-signal.
It's his voice you hear when you dial
463.84.00.
But it's been downhill for him ever since.
That's Henri Bestouches, artist and poet.
He's very ill.
He has a bullet lodged in his brain.
There's Mireille over there
with Elizabeth.
The lady in the white sweater, Josette Lemercier,
was Miss Universe in the late '50s.
The handsome guy near the window
is Jerry Bridgeman.
A US astronaut who walked on the moon.
Who are you?
I'll be off, Alex.
First came words. No, emotions...
Sorry, I don't understand.
He says,
"Young people are too silent."
"You've forgotten how to talk."
"Maybe you think..."
"people aren't worth talking to."
That's not it.
"You're wrong."
"Maybe you're afraid."
He wants to know if you like movies.
"I was a grip"
"when films were as silent as I am."
"I pushed the first dollies."
He says,
"I remember that matinée idol, Jonas."
"He made the whole crew laugh."
"Whenever they filmed a love scene,"
"the director told the actors..."
"to say tender words to each other"
"before kissing."
"Anything, so one could see their lips moving."
"So Jonas..."
"in the middle of a love scene,"
"would make daring comments"
"on his partner's breasts,"
"or proposition her..."
"during a take."
"Jonas, who was a gentle person,"
"was shy with women in real life,"
"became a lion in front of the camera."
He says,
"When the films were shown,"
"during the love scenes,"
"one or two people in the theatre would laugh."
"They were deaf people"
"who could lip-read Jonas' obscenities."
"Silent films were better because... because..."
Slow down, Sylvain.
Excuse me.
Miss, I watched you all night.
I composed this for you.
I'll play it for you.
We're too old to change our habits.
Shit!
They say that broken glass...
We should pick it up.
What did he say?
He said, "C'est la vie."
That's what life is about.
I was 9 when you walked your first steps.
For years, I lived only for outer space.
But don't you think it's hopelessly screwed up now?
How old are you, Jenny?
18. And you?
I turned 53... recently.
I'll be 28 on August 22nd.
You know what distresses me?
That I've accomplished so little in my life.
It's my 37th birthday today.
37 goddam years!
Makes you stop and think.
When Mozart was my age, he had been dead for two years!
Excuse me...
How depressing!
But there's a way out -
blowing my brains out!
May I make a call?
Come with me...
Axel.
Thomas?
It's me.
Recovered from your swim?
Is that Florence I hear?
There's a letter for both of you under the door.
The records in the bag are for Florence.
That's all. Ciao.
Good night, Nicolas. Good night, Pimpernel.
You know our names, Mr Bear?
Of course.
Will you come play with us tomorrow, Mr Bear?
Only if you go to bed right now!
Good night, Nicolas. Good night, Pimpernel.
Good night to all our little friends.
Time for beddy-bye.
Kiss your parents good night,
and we'll be back tomorrow night.
Good night.
See you tomorrow.
You're just like Bernard at a party -
always in the kitchen,
alone.
I'll get you a glass.
All the glasses are in the living room.
This cup is all that's left.
My private cup.
I'm the only one who's ever drunk from it.
Even my brother Stan
would never have used it.
He bought it for me in Italy.
Stan traveled everywhere.
Even as children,
whenever we were apart,
we would meet through telepathy at night.
At exactly 10:00pm,
I'd think very hard of Stan,
and he'd think very hard of me.
Three years ago,
I forgot my telepathic date with him.
He was on a business trip, in Germany.
I never saw him again.
He died on a German motorway...
in his car...
Totally dead!
Be very careful with my cup...
Alexander.
Mireille?
Your hair...
Next time you do something like that,
please don't do it in my home.
You did it behind Bernard's back.
He'll be furious.
Bernard won't mind, I assure you.
Don't worry.
You too!
Isn't it nice to drink through the chink?
I'm going to end up a loser.
Yet I stood a chance.
I wanted to be someone outstanding -
flyer, traveller, musician...
Can't I be reborn?
I'm going to end up a loser. Yet I stood a chance.
I wanted to be someone outstanding - flyer, traveller, musician...
Can't I be reborn?
It's our first meeting.
Only first times matter to me.
Then you won't last long.
If I had a kid, I'd ignore him once he talked.
For years I longed to make love.
Then I actually did it. I mean...
No, it's the opposite.
I never tried to fulfill my best dreams.
Only to re-dream them.
Want some tea?
- Sure. - There's only one cup.
The label's been cut off.
It could be anyting.
I saw you in the bathroom earlier.
Quite a scene.
So you're the spy.
I've tried it more often since I came to Paris.
Haven't you ever?
I'm too happy for that.
- Too happy? - Yes.
No, I mean, too scared.
Where are you from?
Blois.
In the Loire valley.
I came here a year ago to live with my friend,
a Parisian.
I wanted to act in adverts, but I got nowhere.
I almost got hired by a chocolate firm,
but then they saw my tooth...
Next, it was a cosmetics firm,
but with my wrinkles...
What wrinkles?
On my forehead.
I see.
Five of them.
I've had them since childhood.
I make films.
Films or videos?
For now, what I do is dream up titles for the films I plan to make.
If I were you...
I have to go into the army tomorrow.
If I were you, I wouldn't go.
Right. Why go, when we're already veterans?
It's menopause time.
And I'm in a rush.
Yet I'm all for conquerors.
I had a great line worked out for the army psychiatrists.
I told them I was unfit for service,
because I couldn't sleep in a room with other guys.
It didn't work.
They said the army wasn't for sleeping.
So I'm off tomorrow.
Do you fall...
Do you fall in love often?
Yes, easily.
I thought so.
But a real lover sticks around.
I feel closer to people once I've left.
Love is as old as the hills...
Lovers are worn out.
Desire isn't easy to come by,
and it doesn't come cheap nowadays.
There's plenty of passion
but it gets wasted on details.
And it doesn't travel. Me neither.
Mireille...
I'm going now.
OK.
Who are you in love with these days?
I'm on to a new heartbreak.
I don't want to lose it.
My heart's proud of its pain.
Her name is Florence.
I met her two years ago
but I toyed with her before that.
Now she's left me for my best friend, Thomas.
Same old story.
I've never cheated on anyone.
Never got the chance.
She's gone.
She left me a note in our toothbrush glass -
"I'm leaving to forget you."
In her deadly prose.
We lived in my room.
We slept in my single bed.
And lived on her unemployment.
Yet she still loved me on Sunday...
Even Monday... and Tuesday...
She told me all about her youth -
she'd had lots of love affairs.
One when she was very young, with a boy who died.
His death nearly destroyed her.
I never got along with her...
Last summer, we were on an Aeolian island.
I gave her my first slap.
I could've held back. But I decided not to.
I don't try to change. She didn't get it -
that I kept tabs on my cowardice, on my weaknesses.
I like to spy on myself as if I were a foreigner,
a foreign body, as scientists say.
If I'd change, I'd distort the experiment.
I can see the kind of movies you'll make.
It's easy to get self-obsessed when you're alone.
I've got lots of projects,
enough for two lives.
I like to view my life as a biography.
Born in Paris 1960.
Died in Paris 2040.
I won't leave.
Last week I had a dream.
In my dream, I was asleep, then I was awake
and found a book between the sheet and the blanket,
a book I'd never seen before.
I leafed through it.
It was my autobiography.
But it was unfinished - I'd died while writing it.
Want some?
I don't drink.
Florence was madly in love with me.
More than I with her.
So now she's down and I'm out!
When she left three days ago, we had a...
She took all her things.
She wanted to take the letters I wrote to her.
I said they were mine.
I wrote them - they're mine.
In the end, I gave in.
She doesn't know I've photocopied them.
This scarf...
is all I have left of her.
But...
it's her all over.
You really think so, Mireille?
You know my name?
In the army, they should assign you to espionage.
- Want one? - I don't smoke.
I'm going out for a walk.
I'll come with you.
I like walking alone.
So do I.
Then we can go together.
In fact I don't go out much.
I'm scared of getting pushed under the subway,
or being blown up,
or finding out I've got cancer.
At 15, I wasn't scared.
Now I'm old enough to be tortured in a war.
I had a nightmare.
Midnight?
Know this one?
Here's how many nights and days...
Here's how long you've been away...
It was to be our last time apart...
The last strain on my shipwrecked heart...
You said you'd be back in the spring...
A time for sweetness and whispering...
You said we'd meet in a budding grove...
And through Paris streets we'd rove...
I love you and love you still...
I love you alone and always will...
But if you choose to go your way...
I'll remember our love as a happy day...
And I'll hit the road, a smile on my face...
I'll go bask in the sun some other place...
Sorrows won't make me give up my life...
I don't have the patience to be a sailor's wife.
He got home very late.
I was asleep.
For a long time,
he sat on the bed, in the dark.
The sound of the key had woken me.
But I pretended to be asleep.
I felt his eyes on me.
It was a drag.
It wasn't the first time.
Then...
he got into bed,
and made love to me
trying to be gentle
so as not to wake me.
He likes to do it that way.
Sometimes he says to me,
"Let go. Play dead."
When I met him,
at first,
right after my father's death,
he felt at ease with me.
Now... he criticises me for things.
Things I don't understand.
For him, it all matters -
my past, my future,
my present and my death...
I often wonder
what my father would've thought of him...
and of me today.
I am...
I'm what I am.
It's very late.
It's today I'm leaving.
Everyone's going.
We're the last.
I'm leaving.
It's like a dream for me,
being with you.
Like an unusually deep dream.
Only deep sleep makes you dream like that.
Sitting beside you this way...
is like eternity.
The moment I saw you,
I knew I was destined to love you.
I'll say it once and for all -
I love you, Mireille, more than anything.
We must fall in love. We must!
Unaware of it, wordlessly...
It's too late! Pretend you didn't hear that...
Time to shut up. I will.
After 20 years of babbling, silence.
To think that your body will age...
Shrivelled breasts and more wrinkles, Mireille.
On your belly, under your arse. It's all my fault...
You see, Mireille, love...
love without regrets...
love without nasty afterthoughts...
Say come, I'll come, say smile, I'll smile...
We'll sleep together for as long as you want.
I want to work with you,
form an unbeatable team...
Whatever our signs, Libra or Leo, I'll sign up!
Maybe Florence, seeing our strength, will join us.
You and Florence and me. I'll be the go-between lover.
It should be so moving.
Back and forth I go!
Alone, you couldn't jolt me out of my shell.
Together, we'll change our habits.
We'll leave Paris,
maybe even France.
And out of love for me, Alex,
you'll stop destroying yourself.
You'll respect the warmth of your blood, your serene presence,
your clear perception, your gentle feelings.
Under your impulse,
our melancholy will fade away.
If I could only escape monologues, Mireille. Mental diarrhoea!
Not set my sufferings to music!
Not bury my lover with words!
But if I shut up, she'll kill herself!
Kisses won't seal our lips.
Help me take wing, Mireille. I weigh a ton!
Don't look, I'm a truck!
I'll never live again, Mireille.
Never!
Sorry, I'm going to the loo.
Hold it, young man.
You can't relieve yourself until we're moving.
Taken!
Got any change?
I'll have one last game.
It's not two francs.
It's three.
The cost of living goes up.
Life doesn't.
Try again, Earthling!
How about this for an answer!
I've had it.
Never again!
It's over.
He's not even tired.
But he's going home...
to his mistress.
He played badly.
He lost everything.
But he'll play tomorrow.
He's going to sleep in her bed...
in her arms.
Good night.
Try again, Earthling!
We must talk at your place or in a café.
Or in the subway, or in the park, or at my place.
Don't say no.
Mireille...
It's Alex, I missed my train.
Can I speak to Mireille?
I'm not here, Bernard.
I'm not here at all.
Mireille, it's Alex.
Help me...
to get out of this...
Bernard!
Bernard! I turn my back to you.