You told me: "I love you." I told you: "Wait."
I almost said: "Yes." You said: "Go."
JULES AND JIM
With the Little SABINE HAUDEPIN
With And the voice of
Based on the novel by
Adaption and Dialogue by Directed by
Edited by
Music by
Song written by
Director of Photography
It was around 1912.
Jules, a foreigner in Paris, asked Jim, whom he hardly knew,
to get him into the Art Students' Ball.
Jim got him a ticket and a costume.
While Jules was hunting for a slave costume...
their friendship was born.
It grew as Jules watched the ball with his kind tender eyes.
The next day, they had their first real conversation.
Each taught the other his language and his culture until late at night.
They translated each other's poetry.
They shared an indifference for money.
They talked, and they listened to each other.
Jules had no girls in Paris and he wanted one.
Jim had several. He introduced Jules to a musician.
They were in love for about a week.
Then came a sweet thing who loved to talk all night.
And a pretty blonde widow who made them a trio.
She confused Jules. She found him nice, but clumsy.
She brought him a quiet friend who was too quiet.
Despite Jim's advice, Jules got in contact with professionals...
but found no satisfaction.
Let's get to work.
"Down with everything"
No more paint, you bitch.
They'll say anarchists can't spell, again.
Save me! He's after me!
He's stronger than you! Let's run!
Can you put me up for the night?
- I'm Therese. - Of course, Therese.
You can't stay with me. I've got a date.
Gilberte? But Jules can... That's me...
And who're you? Jim and Jules, then?
No, Jules and Jim.
What's that?
It's better than a clock. When the sand stops, I must go to sleep.
- You'll sleep here and me there. - I see.
- Got a cigarette? - Of course.
- Are you Jim? - No, Jules.
You're sweet.
I'll show you a steam engine.
It's almost dawn.
Jim, you might stay here with me for once.
No, Gilberte.
If I stayed only once, I'd feel guilty.
If I stayed longer, we'd be almost married.
- That's against our rules! - What a twisted mind.
And the cat doesn't like to stay at home alone.
Besides, it's morning.
Just imagine that I'm going to work.
You're going home to sleep until noon.
No, it was Shakespeare.
Give me a dime for the music.
It was Shakespeare, I tell you.
Do you have a cigarette?
Can you put me up for the night? I'm Therese.
Forget it. There are more where she came from.
I wasn't in love with her.
She was both mother and daughter to me.
I'm not lucky in Paris.
Good thing I know girls back home.
I love one, Lucie.
She refused to marry me.
I've decided to wait 6 months, and ask her again.
There's another, too. Birgitta.
And there's Elga.
I'd love her if I didn't love Lucie.
This is what she looks like.
Jules sketched a woman's face on the table.
Jim wanted to buy the table...
but the owner wanted to sell the whole set.
Albert.
This is Jim, a French friend.
Hello. I think we've met before.
Sit down.
- Jim had asked... - Who is Albert?
The artists' friend.
He knows everyone who'll be famous in ten years.
This is more exotic.
She looks like an Incan statue.
This one is somewhat Romanesque.
It's weathered because I found it in the garden.
It was out in the rain for years.
This one is very touching.
Reminds you of a decaying face.
Strange to see stone worked so flabbily.
This face has beautiful lips.
They're scornful. Admirable eyes, too.
May we see that last one again?
I made a close-up of it, too.
The slide showed a woman's face...
whose tranquil smile gripped them.
The statue was in an outdoor museum on an Adriatic island.
They left immediately to see it.
They wore the same white outfits.
They stared at the face for an hour.
It stunned them into silence.
They were speechless. Had they ever met such a smile?
No. If they ever met it, they would follow it.
Jules and Jim returned home dazzled.
Paris greeted them gently.
- How is your book? - It's coming along.
It will be rather autobiographical.
Our friendship had a major part in it.
I'd love to have you read an excerpt from it.
Please do.
"Jacques and Julien were inseparable.
Julien's last novel was successful.
In it, he described the enchanting women he had known...
...before he had met Jacques and even Lucienne.
Jacques was proud of Julien.
People called them Don Quixote and Sancho Panza...
and they never knew that neighbors found their friendship ambiguous.
They ate together in small restaurants.
They bought for one another the best cigars."
It's beautiful.
Let me translate it into German.
Now, for a shower.
My cousin just wrote me.
Three girls he knows are coming to Paris.
One is German, one is Dutch, and one is French.
They're coming to dinner tomorrow.
I want you to join us.
Catherine, the French girl, was the statue.
She had the same smile, nose, mouth, chin, and forehead.
As a child, she had been idolized in her hometown...
during a religious celebration.
It started almost like a dream.
As your host, I propose...
that we would abolish all formalities forever...
by drinking my best wine in brotherhood.
Instead of linking arms in the usual way...
let us touch feet under the table.
Jules was happy and moved his feet away.
Jim's foot stayed near Catherine's.
She moved hers away first.
Jules smiled happily...
as he beamed at the others.
Jules vanished for a month.
He saw Catherine alone...
but the two friends met at the gymnasium.
Excellent.
Why don't you spend the evening with Catherine and me?
I've talked about you so much...
Catherine is anxious to know you better...
but not this one, Jim. Okay?
Hello, Mr. Jim.
Pronounce his name in English, not French.
"Jeem" doesn't suit him.
Do you like our friend Thomas?
Can we go out with him?
Not bad. A moustache would help.
Now for a test in the street.
Excuse me, sir. Do you have a match?
Thank you, sir.
She was proud of her clever disguise.
The men were moved, but didn't really understand why.
- Either it's raining or I'm dreaming! - It might be both.
Then if it's raining, let's go to the seashore.
We go tomorrow.
Let's have a race.
First one to the end of the bridge.
- You cheated. - But I won.
Thomas always wins.
He speaks three languages, he swims like a fish.
Can he stand on his hands?
You'll teach him.
Can you come to my flat tomorrow...
to help take my baggage to the station?
She's a strange breed.
Her father was an aristocrat, her mother wasn't.
He came from Burgundy. Her mother was English.
That's why she's not average...
and she teaches everyone.
- Teaches what? - Shakespeare.
Jim took it for granted that she belonged to Jules.
Catherine wore that calm smile.
It was natural and said everything.
I'm almost ready. I just have to put on my dress.
- Never put a hat on a bed. - Do we take the bike?
And the bag, too?
- What are you doing? - I want to burn lies.
Give me a match.
- Oh, my God! - Don't move.
- Are you alright? - Hand me the dress.
It's by the bed.
- Got a broom? - It's under your nose.
Can you help me?
Thanks.
We'll take this, too.
What is it?
Vitriol, for the eyes of men who lie.
That bottle will break and ruin your things.
Besides, you can buy Vitriol anywhere.
- Is that true? - Yes.
But not this bottle.
I swore I'd only use this bottle.
It took them a while...
to find the house of their dreams along the coast.
It was too big and isolated, solemn, white, and empty.
- Sleep well? - Very well.
- Is Jim awake? - I don't know.
- How is everyone else? - Everyone else is fine.
What a nice day.
Hurry, let's go to the beach.
Let's find the last signs of civilization.
A piece of tire.
- Look, a bottle! - An old shoe.
A can! Watch out back there.
Look, Catherine.
Watch out, it's steep.
A postcard.
A piece of porcelain.
A cup and a cigarette butt.
- A pack of English cigarettes. - I'm afraid we're lost, kids.
Do you think I should marry her?
Answer me honestly.
Is she cut out to be a wife and mother?
I'm afraid she will never be happy on this earth.
She has a vision. Maybe she can't belong to just one man.
- Let's go. - No.
This time, I won't move. I give up.
Help me, kids.
Let's go, kids.
At last, I read a book I liked.
A writer, a German, of course...
who dares to say out loud what I think inside.
The sky that we see is merely a small hollow ball...
no bigger than that.
And we walk with our heads towards the center.
The attraction pulls towards the outside under our feet...
towards that solid crust in which the bubble is enclosed.
How thick is the crust and what's beyond it?
Go and see.
That's not a question to discuss between gentlemen.
Answer me tomorrow, Catherine.
If you say no...
I will ask you every year again on your birthday.
You've known few women.
I've known plenty of men. It averages out.
We might make an honest couple.
I've proposed to her. She almost said yes.
At fifteen, I was in love with Napoleon.
I dreamt I met him in an elevator.
We had a child and I never saw him again.
Poor Napoleon.
I was taught: Our father who arts in heaven.
I thought it said arts.
I imagined my father with an easel painting in Paradise.
I believe I've said something funny.
At least, amusing. You might try to smile.
Will anyone present scratch my back?
The Lord scratches those who scratch themselves.
The Lord scratches those...
You two taught me how to laugh.
Before, I always looked glum.
But that's all over.
It's raining. Come and see.
I miss Paris. Let's go back, please.
We'll be there tomorrow night.
I've sold my book.
This is for Catherine.
This is for both of you.
- What is it? - A back-scratcher.
I'm taking you to the theater tonight.
- What will we see? - A new Swedish play.
It starts at nine.
When the sand stops, we'll get dressed.
Jim saw his friends often.
He liked to be with them.
Jules' two pillows were now side by side.
Catherine learned to live again.
I still like that girl.
She wants to be free. She invents her own life.
- Doesn't Jim agree? - No.
It's a confused and self-indulging play.
The writer revels in vice to preach virtue.
We don't even know when or where it's taking place.
He doesn't say if the heroine is a virgin.
That's not important.
Usually not, but since he explains that the hero is impotent...
that his brother is gay and that the sister is a nymphomaniac...
why should he dismiss the heroine?
That's all in your mind.
Yes, and you help us think of it.
No psychology tonight.
It's not psychology, it's metaphysics.
In a couple, the wife must be faithful.
The husband doesn't count.
Who wrote: "Woman is natural, therefore abominable?"
Baudelaire. But he meant a certain class.
Not at all. He meant women in general.
Here's how he describes a young girl:
"Monster, assassin of the arts. Little fool, little slut.
A blend of idiocy and depravity."
Wait, that's not all. This is marvelous:
"I wonder why women are allowed to enter churches.
What could they hope to say to God?"
- You're a pair of fools. - I haven't said anything.
And I don't approve of what Jules says at 2 in the morning.
- Then protest! - I am protesting.
Jim never forgot that jump.
He drew it the next day, though he was not an artist.
His admiration for Catherine struck him like lightning...
as he blew her an invisible kiss.
He didn't worry.
He was swimming with her mentally, and held his breath to frighten Jules.
Catherine, why?
You're crazy.
Her hat drifted away.
Jules was pale, silent, unsure of himself, and more handsome.
Catherine had a triumphant smile.
No one spoke about her jump.
- I've arrived. - Please, Mr. Jim.
- No, just Jim. - Just Jim.
I want to ask you some advice.
Can you meet me tomorrow at 7 in our café?
Yes.
- She wants to talk to you. - Right, I'll be there at 7.
- Are you joking? - I never joke.
I've no sense of humor.
I know people who have. My wife's friends, working relations.
But personally, I never joke.
Jim was late, as usual, because he was an optimist.
He was afraid she had already left.
Jim thought: "A girl like that...
would probably not have waited.
A girl like that might have just walked in...
without noticing me behind my newspaper, and left. "
He kept repeating: "A girl like that."
But what was she like?
For the first time, he began to think of her.
Another coffee, please.
Another glass.
Did I wake you up, Jim?
We're going to my country, to get married.
Tell her I'm sorry I was late. I waited almost till 8.
She's more optimistic than you.
She was at the hairdresser...
and arrived at 8 to have dinner with you.
If I had known she'd come, I could have waited until midnight.
Catherine wants to speak to you.
I'm very happy, Jim.
Jules will teach me French boxing.
With an Austrian accent.
I've lost my accent! My French is perfect!
Listen to the Marseillaise.
A few days later, war was declared.
Jules and Jim were separated by their uniforms...
and lost touch for a long time.
The war was never ending.
Gradually, it became like a normal life...
tempered by the different seasons.
A normal life with dead beats, routines, pauses, and even distractions.
Gilberte sent parcels to Jim.
He almost saw her a few times, but each time his leave was canceled.
Then, in 1916, he spent a week in Paris.
Don't marry me for my parcels. We're fine as we are.
All right, but I know this will last.
- How is Jules? - No news of him since his wedding.
Sometimes, I'm afraid I'll kill Jules during a battle.
My darling...
I never stop thinking of you.
Not of your soul. I don't believe in it anymore.
But of your body...
and our son who is inside you.
I've no more envelopes. I don't know how to mail this letter.
I am going to the Russian front.
It will be tough...
but I prefer it because I was afraid to kill Jim here.
My darling...
let me kiss you.
Jules' country lost the war. Jim's had won.
But they were both victorious since they were alive.
They began to write each other again.
Catherine and Jules lived in a cottage near the Rhine.
They had a daughter, Sabine.
Jim wrote Jules: " Tell me, should I marry and have children, too?"
Jules replied: "Come and judge for yourself."
Catherine signed the invitation.
Jim left, but he delayed his arrival.
He walked along the Rhine, and stopped in several towns.
He was writing about Germany after the war for a Paris paper.
He wanted to see his battlegrounds again.
In some places, the land had been bombarded so heavily...
that nothing could ever grow on it again.
They became cemeteries where Jim looked on graves for familiar names...
cemeteries that were being shown to schoolchildren.
Catherine was waiting at the station with her daughter.
Her eyes were shining with joy.
- Hello, Jim. - Hello, Catherine.
- This is Sabine. - Hello, Mr. Jim.
Let's go. Jules is anxious to see you.
Her deep voice made Jim think she had finally made their date...
and had dressed up especially for him.
She took him to their cottage, surrounded by pines and near a hill.
- How are the others? - Oh, the others, you know.
- You haven't changed, Jim. - You haven't changed, Jules.
So, no one has changed.
Sit down.
Come here, Sabine.
No, thanks.
- You want some? - Just a little.
No, thanks. I stopped smoking when I started to love plants.
An angel is passing by.
Of course, it's twenty past one.
So?
Angels always pass by at twenty past.
- I didn't know that. - Neither did I.
At twenty past and twenty to as well.
So you won the war, you louse.
I'd rather have won this.
You must be hungry. Let's eat.
Afterwards, I'll show you the house.
Jim here, Jules over there. And Sabine next to me.
How is your new novel?
These articles won't let me finish it.
I work on them all week, write them Friday night...
and send them airmail the next day. And you?
I am doing a book on dragonflies.
I am writing it for a publisher.
Catherine is illustrating it.
Even Sabine helps. She goes with me into the swamps.
I'm going to build a pond in the garden.
One day, perhaps, I may become literary and write a love story...
with insects as characters.
I have a bad tendency to specialize.
I admire your versatility, Jim.
Oh, me, I'm a failure. Sorel, my teacher, taught me all I know.
"What do you want to do," he asked me. I said I wanted to be a diplomat.
"Do you have money?" "No."
"Are you related to anyone famous?" "No."
"Then forget about diplomacy!" "But what can I become?"
"Curious." "That's no career."
"Not yet.
Travel, write, translate.
Learn to live anywhere, beginning now.
There's a future in it.
The French have ignored the world for too long.
A paper will always pay for your fun."
Jules thinks you have a bright future.
So do I, but it may not be spectacular.
Jules works and sleeps here.
We're as organized as a monastery.
Jules writes his books...
and hunts his insects.
Mathilde, who you saw, comes from a nearby farm.
She helps me with the house and Sabine.
My room.
That's Jules!
Yes, his father liked Mozart so much that he once disguised him as Mozart.
Here is the balcony.
Over there is the inn where you'll sleep.
Jules will take you there later.
Jules and Jim carried on their conversation.
They talked about the war. Jules avoided talking about his family.
Catherine was kind and tough...
but Jim felt something was wrong.
To bed, sleepyhead.
Once upon a time...
there was a little sleepyhead...
- Good night, Sabine. - Good night, Jim. See you tomorrow.
- Good night, Jules. - I want to talk to you.
- What do you think of her? - Marriage and motherhood suit her.
She's less of a grasshopper and more of an ant.
Be careful.
True, she keeps order in our home.
But if things go too smoothly, she changes.
She becomes a tyrant in her words.
Yes, she has a Napoleonic side.
She believes the world is rich...
and that one can cheat a little.
She begs God to forgive her in advance.
She is sure that He will.
I'm afraid she'll leave us.
- Impossible! - No, she has done it already.
It lasted 6 months. I gave up hope.
She's ready to do it again.
She's not really my wife, Jim.
She has had three lovers.
One was a fling the day before our wedding, to bury her youth.
And one as revenge for something I did.
I don't know what.
I'm not the man she needs...
and she won't accept that.
I'm used to her being unfaithful to me at times...
but I couldn't stand to see her go.
- But there's Albert. - The singer who found the statue?
Yes, it was he who showed it to us.
He was wounded in the war.
He's convalescing in a village near here.
Catherine encourages him and gives him hope.
He has spoken about her to me.
He wants to marry her and take the child.
I hold no grudge against him.
I have nothing against him nor her.
I am slowly renouncing her...
and all I had expected from the world.
That's what she likes about you. That Buddhist side of yours.
She's usually kind and generous...
but when she thinks she is not appreciated...
she becomes terrible, and suddenly goes from one extreme to the other...
with sudden attacks.
Listen to that mole-cricket.
It's like a mole.
Jim could see the cottage from his bedroom window.
Catherine was there, a queen ready to flee.
Jim wasn't surprised.
He recalled Jules' mistakes with other girls.
Catherine, he knew, was precise.
Jim felt sorry for Jules, but he could not condemn her.
She jumped at men the way she had jumped into the river.
The house was under a cloud.
Another week began.
- Time to go to bed, Sabine. - Okay, Mommy.
I need to speak to you later, Jim. Will you be free?
Words change meaning from one language to another...
when they change gender.
In German, war and death are masculine, unlike in French...
while sun and love are feminine.
- Life is neuter. - Life is neuter?
Very pretty and very logical.
Skirts became short in France, too, during the war.
Married soldiers hated that.
They felt betrayed...
but it was because the fabric was scarce.
Yes, and women cut their hair short...
to avoid danger in factories.
It's time you start to appreciate German beer, Jim.
Jim is like me! He's French. He couldn't care less about German beer.
- Not at all. - What?
French wines are the best in Europe, in the world even.
Look at the clarets: Château Lafite, Château Margaux.
That's not all. There are others.
The burgundies: Romane, Chambertin...
Beaume, Pommard, Chablis, Volnais.
And Beaujolais wines: Pouilly-Fuissé...
Moulin à Vent, Fleurie, Morgon, Saint Amour.
We stared at the shell as it rolled down the steps.
Three steps, two steps. Lie down.
Catch me.
- What do you want to know? - Nothing. I want to listen.
- To judge me? - Certainly not.
I have nothing to tell you. I want to question you.
The question is: tell me about Jim.
- Okay, but tell you what? - Anything, but tell me point-blank.
Jim told of two young men which he didn't name...
and told the story of their friendship in Paris...
and how they met a certain girl.
He told of... Not that one, Jim. There, he had to say his own name.
He told of their friendship, of their trip by the sea.
Catherine saw that Jim remembered everything about her.
She argued on a few points and added other details.
He described their date, told her how he perceived all three of them.
He said he always knew that Jules could never keep Catherine.
- You'd have said that in the café? - Yes.
- Go on. - That's all there is.
There was the war...
my joy to see Jules again, my seeing you at the station...
the happy days I've spent with you here...
what I have seen, what I have learned, what I have guessed...
that pending cloud, I mean Albert.
- Are you against me? - No more than Jules is.
Let me tell my side of the story now.
Jules conquered me with his generosity...
his innocence, and his vulnerability.
He was such a contrast to other men.
I hoped to cure him of his insecurities...
but I learned they were part of him.
We were happy, but our happiness did not last...
and we became two people, not one.
His family was torture for me.
At a reception before our wedding...
Jules' mother offended me very deeply.
Jules said nothing.
I punished him by spending a few hours with an old lover, Harold.
Yes, a lover.
So I was able to marry Jules with all accounts squared.
Luckily, his family moved away.
The war broke out. Jules went to the Russian front.
He wrote me love letters, wonderful letters.
I loved him more at a distance. He became a saint again.
Things really went wrong during his first leave.
I felt as if I was in the arms of a stranger.
He left: Sabine was born nine months later.
She doesn't look very much like Jules.
Believe what you want, but she's his.
I said, "I've given you a child. That's enough.
I want my own bedroom. I want my own freedom."
Remember our friend, Fortunio?
He was free. So was I.
He was a sweet partner. What a vacation.
But he was too young to be serious.
One day, to my surprise...
I missed Jules and his indulgence.
My daughter attracted me like a magnet.
I left.
I've been back for three months.
Jules is no longer my husband.
Don't feel sorry for him. My presence alone satisfies him.
Then there is Albert.
He told me of that statue you loved which resembles me.
I flirted with him.
He can be strange, but he has a natural strength that Jules doesn't.
He wants to leave everything, marry me and take me and my daughter.
So far, I like him. That's all.
He's coming to lunch tomorrow. I'll see.
I talked more than you did.
I didn't say everything. Neither did you.
Perhaps I've had other men. That's my business.
I spoke only of what you mentioned.
- I understand. - I don't want you to.
It's almost dawn.
Jim desired her, but he kept repressing that desire.
She had to stay. Was Jim acting for Jules?
Or for himself? He would never know.
Perhaps she was seducing him, although Jim was unsure.
But she revealed her goals only when she achieved them.
- Hello, Sabine. - Hello, Albert.
- How are you? How is your mother? - Fine.
Hello, Albert.
- You sacrificed your moustache? - Yes, everyone did.
But I don't like it. Now I feel naked.
I'll let it grow back.
Albert was wounded...
in the trenches.
I'm all right now, but when I woke up...
and saw the doctors probing inside my skull, I thought of Oscar Wilde.
God, spare me physical pain.
I'll take care of the moral pain.
What's revolting about war...
is that it deprives man of his own individual battle.
Yes, but even in the midst of war, he can fight it.
I knew a soldier in the hospital.
On leave, he met a girl on a train.
They talked between Nice and Marseilles.
She left and gave him her address.
Well, he wrote her every day for two years from the trenches...
by candlelight, during battles.
His letters became more intimate.
At first, he wrote: "Dear Miss," and ended with, "Yours truly."
Soon he called her "My little lamb" and asked for her picture.
Then she became "My adorable lamb." First: "I kiss your hand."
Then: "Your forehead."
She sent him a picture...
and he wrote that he could see her breasts through her robe.
He became more blunt. "I love you terribly."
He wrote to her mother and proposed marriage.
He became her fiancé without having seen her again.
As the war continued, his letters became more intimate.
"I take you, my love. I hold your adorable breasts.
I hold you naked against my body."
She wrote a cold letter, and he begged her to be serious...
for he could die at any time, and he was right.
This mad affair by correspondence could exist...
only in the violence of trench warfare...
with death always nearby.
So this man fought the war...
but he fought his own battle as well...
and he won a woman by mail.
He had a head wound, too, when he arrived at the hospital...
but he was less lucky.
He died the day before the Armistice.
In his last letter, he wrote her...
"Your breasts are the only bombs I've loved."
I'll show you some photos of him.
If you flip through them quickly, he seems to be moving.
Pretty story.
Jules wrote me beautiful letters too.
Hello, Albert. Have you finished my song?
Let's go upstairs and work on it together.
A rocking chair has a rhythm of its own.
- What about the song? - It's almost ready.
Yes. Let's go.
It's too good for them...
but we've no other audience.
She wore rings on every finger
More bracelets than I can tell
And she was the kind of singer
To put me under a spell
She had eyes, eyes of opal
They fascinated me
Her pale face was an oval
What a fatal femme fatale
We met with a kiss
A hit, then a miss
It wasn't all bliss
And we parted
We went our own ways
In life's whirlpool of days
I saw her again one night
Again she was an enchanted sight
I recognized her after a while
By her mysterious smile
Her face in an oval Her eyes of opal
Affected me more than ever
I drank as I heard her sing
Alcohol lets time lose its sting
I drank far too much
I awoke to her touch
We met with a kiss
A hit, then a miss
It wasn't all bliss
But we started
We went our own ways
In life's whirlpool of days
Again I saw her one night
Again her smile was a light
When you kiss
Why miss
When you return
Why be stern
Together, we make our ways
In life's whirlpool of days
We go round and round
Together bound Together bound
Each saw her in his own light. She couldn't please them all.
Jim could only admire Catherine alone.
He felt he was in the way.
- Good night. - Good night.
Our affection is new. We should let it rest like a newborn baby.
You were in love, Jim. I can feel that.
- Why didn't you marry her? - It didn't work out.
- What is she like? - Quiet and patient.
Gilberte says she'll wait for me forever.
You still love her, and she loves you?
- Don't make her suffer. - I need adventures and risks.
There's been a change too.
I admire you. I enjoy seeing you.
- I'm afraid I'll forget Jules. - You must not forget him.
Warn him.
Translate that!
The yearnings of two hearts create such heavenly pain.
Not bad.
Though you added the heavenly. Good night.
Give my regards to the others.
I'd like to read Goethe tonight. May I have it?
- I lent it to Jim. - Too bad.
- Good night, Jim. - Good night.
I'll bring it tomorrow.
You must bring it now.
She insists on reading it tonight.
Jim, she doesn't want me anymore.
I'm afraid she will disappear from my life.
The last time I saw you with her...
you looked like a couple.
Love her, marry her...
and let me see her.
I mean, if you love her, don't think I'm an obstacle.
Jim had waited for her all day.
She came into his arms gravely.
Their first kiss lasted all night.
They were silent as they drew close.
Later, they remained silent.
Her face expressed strange joy and curiosity.
Jim was prisoner.
No other woman existed for him.
Your turn.
I've asked Jim to move into the house.
He'll take the small room.
Careful, Jim.
Be careful for both of you.
This is your room.
The books are in German, but I've got others in my room.
I'll unpack your bag. I think it will do.
The rest is a mess...
but we can't help that.
- What is on the other side? - Sabine and Mathilde's room.
The bed isn't too bad.
Sit down next to me.
I've always liked the nape of your neck.
That was the only part of you I could look at without being seen.
What about Jules?
He loves us both.
This won't surprise him. He won't suffer.
We shall love him and respect him.
In the village they were known as the three lunatics...
but they were accepted.
When she found that out, Catherine invented a game: the village idiot.
The village was the table. They took turns as the idiot.
Sabine made them laugh.
Catherine believed that love was short...
but constantly recurring.
Life was a vacation for all of them.
Jules and Jim had never lived so intensely.
Time went by.
Happiness can't be told, but it wears off without anyone noticing it.
One day, she decided to seduce Jules.
While Jim was reading downstairs...
she took Jules into her room.
Jules said no, but Catherine said yes.
Jim said he wasn't jealous, but he was.
She saw this and never repeated the experiment.
One day, they walked around a lake...
hidden in the mist of a green valley.
The harmony between them was perfect.
Catherine had a headache, so did Jim.
If they had children, he thought, they would be tall...
thin and have headaches too.
They played on the shore of the lake.
She made him throw stones. She and Jules learned how to skip stones.
The sky was so close to them.
Jim had to return to Paris.
His paper needed him.
But they knew he would return...
and things would remain the same.
Their perfect month was engraved into them.
They waved at each other as he left.
Jules gave them his blessings and promised to take care of her...
for they wanted to marry.
Jules is willing to divorce.
I'm going to marry Catherine.
I want to have children with her.
Jules will find me work in his country.
Right now, I'm translating an Austrian play.
Where are you going?
- Home. - I'll go with you.
I'd rather you didn't.
Hello, Jim.
It's me, Therese. The steam engine.
Therese, how are you? How is...
It lasted two weeks. I cheated on him.
He found out, got jealous, stopped trusting me.
He locked me up for three weeks.
I was flattered, then furious.
I got out on a painter's ladder with the painter.
I got impatient. A guy wants to make me rich.
I follow him to Cairo where he puts me up in a house.
An Englishman rescues me.
I move into his villa by the Red Sea, play tennis, ride horses.
Then I get a letter.
- Hello, is Jules in Paris? - No, he didn't come.
I go to wreck the wedding. I marry him.
Hello, Jim. How is your buddy?
- Still with the same girl? - Always.
He was serious. He thought I wasn't.
My husband divorced me finally.
My undertaker married me.
It's a perfect marriage, but no children.
I've neither time nor energy to be unfaithful.
So I'm writing my memoirs for the Sunday Times Magazine in Europe.
My husband.
- What about you, Jim? - I'm getting married.
- How's Jules? - All right.
Interesting, isn't she? Her name is Denise.
She won't talk to you.
She never talks. She's not stupid.
She's empty. It's all empty in there.
- She's a thing. - Pretty thing.
Yes, beautiful. It's just sex.
Pure sex.
- Say good-bye, Denise. - Sir.
Catherine spent the winter at home in front of the fireplace.
She was Jim's fiancée, on loan to Jules.
Every day she asked Jules...
"Do you think Jim loves me?"
Listen to me, Gilberte.
If Catherine wants something...
and she thinks no one will be hurt...
she may be wrong, but she'll do it...
to learn from the experience.
It's her way of achieving wisdom.
That can last a long time.
Don't be mean.
I'm not mean. I'm jealous.
I knew it would end this way.
Don't leave tomorrow.
You'll give her your life, so just give me one more week.
Jim couldn't leave Gilberte. Catherine couldn't leave Jules.
They couldn't hurt Jules or Gilberte...
who belonged to the past and who each played the same role.
"Tell Jules I saw Therese. She's married and is writing.
I have to delay my trip back once again...
but soon I'll be free, ready for you.
I must still say a few good-byes.
A few good-byes."
Do you think Jim loves me?
- Hello, Jules. - Hello.
What's wrong?
Why didn't Catherine come to meet me?
She disliked your letters. You talked about your work, your good-byes.
She didn't like your absence. You were gone too long.
When she is in doubt, she can do anything.
- Is she waiting for us? - Yes, I think so.
I didn't want to tell you.
She left yesterday morning without saying a word.
I had hoped that she would be back before your arrival.
Aren't you worried?
You mean, is she in danger?
She is merely doing something irreparable.
I told you, she disliked your letters.
"Therese is married and has become a writer.
I must say a few good-byes."
No, Catherine never does anything halfway.
She's an irresistible force that can't be stopped.
Her harmony is never shaken because...
she knows she is always innocent.
- You speak of her as if she was a queen. - She is a queen.
Let me be frank.
She's not especially beautiful or intelligent or sincere...
but she is a real woman.
And that is why we love her...
and all men desire her.
Despite this, why did she make us a gift...
of her presence?
Because we treated her like a queen.
You know, I almost stayed in Paris.
I knew it could never last.
Even our friendship suffers.
At times, I'm jealous of your years with her.
And I hate you for not being jealous of me.
Do you believe that?
I'll do anything not to lose her completely.
You will, too, when she returns...
for she always returns.
Listen, I'm going back to Paris.
Tell her you didn't see me at the station.
It's the only solution.
I see. I met the train, but you weren't on it.
Hello. What's the matter?
You've just arrived.
You're mine and I'm yours. All is well.
But in your letters, you said you had things to do.
So did I. You said good-bye to your loves.
I decided to say good-bye to mine.
You'll hold me in your arms all night long, but that's all.
We want a child, don't we?
Well, if I had one now, I wouldn't know if it was yours.
Do you understand?
- I had to do it. - Do you love Albert?
- No. - Does he love you?
Yes. You must believe me. It was your only chance.
Albert equals Gilberte.
You don't say anything?
We must start with a clean slate.
A clean slate and no debts. That was her creed.
And nothing happened.
She slept, but Jim's eyes remained open.
He realized that they were being drawn together.
So they started all over again, flying high like birds of prey.
They restrained until she was sure she didn't bear Albert's child.
This restraint exalted them. They were always together.
They never cheated. The promised land was in view.
And The Promised Land Faded
They realized that Catherine was not pregnant with their child.
They saw a specialist who told them that this was not uncommon...
and that these things took time with most couples.
What's wrong?
I want to sleep alone tonight. Go to your room.
- Why? - I just want to.
- Explain. - There's nothing to explain.
I'll just stay with you. That's all.
That's not true.
I don't want you to stay. I'm disgusted.
It's a nightmare when the night comes.
When I think of that child we will never have, I feel I'm taking a test.
- I can't stand it. - Our love is all that counts.
No, because I count too...
and I love you less.
Let's stay away from each other.
I may still love you, but I'll run that risk.
Go to Gilberte since she writes you every day.
- You are not fair. - I know, but I'm heartless.
That's why I don't love you and why I'll never love anyone.
Besides, I'm 32, and you are 29.
When I'm 40, you'll want a girl of 25...
and I'll be left alone like a fool.
You may be right. I'll leave for three months.
Are you hurt?
I'm not anymore.
We should never be hurt both at once.
When you stop suffering, I'll start.
Am I disturbing you?
I can't stand it.
- Did you hear us arguing? - No, I was working.
I can't stand him. I'm going mad.
I'm glad he's going tomorrow. Good riddance.
Don't be unfair.
You know he loves you.
I really don't know anymore.
He lied to me.
He didn't drop Gilberte. He doesn't even know what he wants himself.
I love her. I don't love her, but I will, maybe.
I can't help it if we didn't have a child.
- Got a cigarette? - You want one?
- Want me to talk to him? - No, please don't.
I'm half for him and half against him.
But I want him to go.
We've decided to separate for three months.
What do you think?
I don't know. It may be a good idea.
You won't say what you think.
I know you despise me.
No, I shall never despise you.
I shall always love you...
no matter what you do, no matter what happens.
Is that true?
I love you too.
We were happy, weren't we?
But we are happy.
I mean, I am.
Is that true?
Yes, let's always stay together...
like an old couple, with Sabine...
and our grandchildren.
Stay near me.
I don't want to see him before he goes.
Then stay here.
I'll sleep downstairs.
My little Catherine.
Often you remind me...
of a Chinese play I saw before the war.
The curtain rises and the emperor...
turns to the audience and says...
"I am the unhappiest man on Earth...
because I have two wives.
My first wife and my second wife."
Their love was now relative, but to Jules it was absolute.
The next morning Jim left the house.
Catherine took him to the station.
A mist settled over the valley.
The hive felt that Jim has lost favor with its queen.
He had to go.
We can't see the house.
The railway schedule had been changed.
The train left the next day.
One always feels guilty in a hotel room.
I'm not very moral, but I dislike it.
Don't tell me you don't. I wouldn't believe you.
Jim thought of their children.
He imagined a houseful of beautiful children.
He knew that if they had none...
Catherine would have affairs again.
They were silent in the gloomy hotel room, but they made love.
They didn't know why. Maybe it was their way to end their story.
It was like a funeral and as if they were already dead.
The next day she took him to his train, but they did not wave.
They separated, though nothing forced them.
It's all over now, Jim told himself once again.
- Your medicine and a letter. - Thanks.
I think I'm pregnant. Come. Catherine.
Gilberte, please give me some writing paper.
Catherine, I am in bed and very ill.
Besides, I doubt that your child is mine.
One night could not succeed where love failed.
"Where love failed."
You are right. That illness is a joke.
I'll write and say you want to see him.
Dear Hypochondriac, come as soon as you can.
Catherine awaits a letter.
Write in big letters for her eyes are tired...
and she cannot read small handwriting.
She doesn't think I was ill.
I don't think she is pregnant.
In any case, I doubt that I'm the father.
I've got reasons to doubt.
Our past, Albert and the rest.
Since you're going out, could you mail this letter?
Certainly.
Oh, there's a letter for you.
I'm late. See you later.
I love you, Jim.
So many unbelievable things turn out to be true.
I'm going to have a child.
Let us thank God, Jim. I am sure you are the father.
I beg you to believe me. Your love is now alive within me.
You must believe me.
This paper is your skin. This ink is my blood.
I'm pressing on my pen. Please, answer me.
Darling, I believe you. I am going to you.
All that is good within me comes from you.
They had promised never to call each other.
They couldn't talk if they couldn't touch each other.
The mail took three days. Their letters crossed.
I've got reasons to doubt. Our past, Albert and the rest.
I will stop thinking of you, so that you can stop thinking of me.
You disgust me, but that is wrong.
Nothing should ever be disgusting.
My Jim, your long letter changes everything.
In two days you'll be here. Not a letter, but you.
Let's forget our differences. They are gone.
Come back to me soon, even late at night.
At last, Jim received a letter from Jules.
"Your child died before it could be born.
To Catherine, you died with it."
They had created nothing.
Jim thought, new laws are beautiful...
but it's more practical to obey old ones.
We played with life and lost.
I don't believe it.
- You gave up your cottage? - Yes.
We're living in France now.
We've rented an old mill on the Seine.
We must see each other. Drop in tomorrow.
Please tell me about Catherine.
For a long time, I feared she'd commit suicide.
She had bought a gun.
She would say, "So-and-so killed himself"...
like others say, "So-and-so died of cholera."
She seemed to be in mourning. She looked like she'd been ill.
She moved in slow motion with a dead smile on her face.
Gilberte, this is my friend Jules.
Jim has told me so much about you. I feel like I know you.
Does Catherine know you've come to see me?
Yes. She's inviting you for a ride in her car.
I'd like you and maybe your wife to come.
- She won't accept, but I will. - I've got to go now.
No, Jules! You can't wear a hat like that, at least not in France.
Here. Take mine.
- Hello. - Hi.
Come. It's over there.
She's in a good mood today.
Don't jar her.
Your place is beautiful.
Look at her car.
It's Jim.
Catherine smiled, but she looked mysterious.
She took her white pajamas and wrapped them in a neat parcel.
Jim wondered why and then forgot about it.
They went for a drive.
I'm hungry. Let's eat here.
Albert, what are you doing here?
Getting some fresh air.
Besides, I live here.
- Will you eat with us? - Sure, if we eat now.
- You got a date? - Perhaps.
Please give me my parcel. Good night.
She's done it again.
I didn't expect it.
I thought she'd use a new leading man.
- Albert is an old story. - He was perfect for tonight.
Leave her the car.
She thinks that in a couple, at least only one person needs to be faithful.
- The other... - I must go home.
You saw that I'm not living alone.
- I'm going to marry Gilberte. - You're wiser than I am.
You've realized that when it's over with Catherine, it's all over.
Gilberte will make a good wife.
She's very beautiful.
Jim recognized Catherine's car.
First he saw nothing.
Then he saw the car weaving on the empty square...
like a riderless horse, like a ghost ship.
What a night. I made a mistake.
That life was dead for me.
It was a desert, Jim.
I kept looking for you.
Then come right away.
Lie down next to me. Kiss me.
There's something I must tell you.
Say it.
I found a passage you had marked in a book.
"On a ship, a woman made love...
to a stranger in her mind."
It struck me as a confession.
That's how you explore the universe.
I feel that curiosity too.
Perhaps everyone does.
I overcome it for your sake, but you don't.
In love, I agree with you...
a couple is not ideal.
Just look around you.
You wanted something better...
by refusing to submit to hypocrisy.
You wanted to invent love.
But pioneers must be humble and unselfish.
Let's face it.
We have failed in everything.
You tried to change me.
I tried to spread joy, but I've created only pain.
I promised to marry Gilberte...
but I can't postpone my promise endlessly.
It's counterfeit.
I've no longer any hope of marrying you.
Catherine, I am going to marry Gilberte.
We can still have children.
How touching.
What about me? What about me?
What about the children I wanted?
- You didn't want any. - I did.
They would have been beautiful.
You are going to die.
You disgust me, Jim. I'm going to kill you.
You're a coward. You're scared.
Jim was glad to see Jules and to see that Catherine left him cold.
She tried not to leave them alone and suggested a ride.
Jim agreed. But where to?
Catherine drove fast and carelessly.
Something was in the air, Just like the day they met Albert.
They stopped in a café by a pond.
- Now they're burning books. - It's unbelievable.
Catherine found you were easy to get...
and hard to keep.
Your love vanished and returned...
with hers.
I never knew those ups and downs.
Mr. Jim, I've something to tell you.
Will you come with me?
Watch us, Jules.
Jules would no longer dread, as he had from the beginning...
her unfaithfulness and that he might lose her...
since she was gone now.
Their bodies were found in the river.
Jim's coffin was huge.
It dwarfed Catherine's.
They left nothing of themselves. But Jules had his daughter.
Did Catherine merely seek excitement? No.
But she had dazed Jules.
He was overcome with relief.
The friendship of Jules and Jim had no equivalent in love.
They enjoyed little things together.
They accepted their differences with tenderness.
Everyone called them Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.
The ashes were placed in an urn.
Jules might have mixed them.
Catherine wanted hers to be cast to the wind...
but that was not permitted.