"Past the age of fifty, Velasquez stopped painting definite things.
He hovered around objects with the air, with twilight,
catching in his shadows and airy backgrounds...
the palpitations of colour...
which formed the invisible core of his silent symphony.
Henceforth, he captured only...
those mysterious interpenetrations of shape and tone that form a constant,
secret progression,
neither betrayed nor interrupted by any jolt or jar.
Space reigns supreme.
It is as if an aerial wave, sliding over the surfaces,
soaked up their visible emanations, defined and modeled them,
then spread them about like a perfume,
an echo of themselves,
a scattering of impalpable dust.
The world he lived in was one of sadness:
A degenerate king, sickly infantes,
idiots, dwarfs, cripples,
a handful of clownish freaks dressed up as princes,
whose function it was to laugh at themselves...
and to amuse a cast that lived outside the law,
in the meshes of etiquette, plots and lies,
bound by the confessional and remorse,
with the inquisition and silence at the door."
Listen to this, little girl!
"A spirit of nostalgia pervades his work, yet he avoids what is ugly, sad,
or cruelly morbid about those oppressed children.
Velasquez is the painter of evening,
of open spaces and of silence,
even when he painted in broad daylight or in a closed room,
even with the din of battle or of the hunt in his ears.
As they seldom went out during the day,
when everything was drowned in torrid sunshine,
the Spanish painters communed with the evening."
Beautiful, isn't it, little girl?
You're crazy to read her things like that!
Off to bed, sleepy-heads!
Why are they still up?
Because you sent the maid to the movies...
for the third time this week!
Sure, I did.
They're showing Johnny Guitar... good for her education.
We see too many squares.
Hurry up! Frank and Paola will be here any minute.
I'm not going.
I've decided to stay home with the children.
No! Frank is bringing his niece.
She can baby-sit till we get back.
She's a student.
Since when has he got a niece? I'll bet she's a call-girl.
I'm not going.
You'll do as you're told!
He's the president of Standard Oil and papa will introduce you.
And I'll sue the TV people for firing me.
Oh, no. How come you say like that?
When someone finds you a job, you might be good enough to take it!
Come on!
Aren't you wearing a slip?
No! I'm wearing my new Maidenform girdle... it's invisible!
In my new trousers I've got that young look with Maidenform!
After Athens,
after the Renaissance, we are now entering the civilization of the rump!
Let me show you...
She loves the children.
If anything comes up, call us at... What number?
225-70-01
This is Frank's niece.
Oh, yeah?
Hello.
See you. - See you.
Can't you say Balzac 70-01? You don't know Balzac? Read Cesar Birotteau!
With the 5th Symphony pounding in his poor head!
What's eating you? - Let's go, daddy-o!
Chapter Two
A party at the home of Mr. & Mrs. Expresso, whose daughter is my wife.
The new Alfa-Romeo,
with its four-wheel disc brakes,
luxurious interior and road-holding ability,
is a first-rate "gran turismo":
Safe, fast and pleasant to drive,
with quick get-away and perfect balance.
It's easy to feel fresh. Soap washes, cologne refreshes, perfume perfumes.
To combat under-arm perspiration,
I use Odorono after my bath for all-day protection.
Odorono comes in spray-bottle, aerosol stick or roll-on.
But the Oldsmobile 88 has even more to offer:
Its rigorous design, powerful, sober lines,
and exclusive elegance...
are proof that beauty is compatible with red-hot performance.
You seem to be alone.
He's American. He can't speak French.
My fluffy hair-do...
kept its shape all day thanks to a cloud of Aquanet.
Now the lacquer brushes out with effortless strokes.
Soft...
My hair is like so many blond silk threads!
Shimmering!
Clean!
Women must give up filmy negligees...
and romantic style night-gowns.
Out of doors or in bright light, lingerie loses its charm
and becomes indecent.
Olympio's melancholy
Give me the keys to the Lincoln.
You're leaving?
I'm tired.
I've got a machine to see with, called eyes.
To hear with, I've got ears.
To talk with, a mouth.
But they feel like separate machines, there's no unity.
A person ought to feel unified.
I feel like I'm divided up.
You talk too much, it makes me tired just listening.
You're right... I talk too much.
A man alone always talks too much.
I'll wait for you at home.
Next chapter:
Despair... Memories and freedom...
Bitterness... hope...
Remembrance of things past.
Marianne Renoir
You're still here?
I'm sorry.
You've missed the last metro.
I know.
You're alone?
I was bored, so I came home.
Anything wrong? You look depressed.
There are days like that... You meet nothing but squares.
So you start to look in the mirror...
and have doubts about yourself.
Come on, I'll take you home.
Frank lent you his car?
Yes... Don't you like American cars?
Sure...
Funny, our meeting again like this. - Yes...
It's been four years.
No, five and a half, and it was October.
You're married?
I found an Italian girl with money. But she doesn't really interest me.
Why don't you divorce?
Yes, I wanted to once.
I was alive then... I've gone to seed.
To want something, you have to be alive.
Do you still teach Spanish?
No... I'm in TV. But I gave it up.
What about you? - Oh, nothing special.
You don't want to talk about yourself? - No...
Two years ago a friend of mine saw you in London.
Are you still with that American?
That was finished a long time ago.
Have you known Frank long?
No... I just ran into him.
Mysterious as ever, I see.
No, I just don't like to talk about myself.
OK... so we'll stop talking.
...garrison massacred by the Viet Cong...
who lost 115 men.
Awful, isn't it? So anonymous... - What is?
They say "115 guerrillas" and it doesn't mean a thing to us.
Yet each one is a man, and we don't even know who he is.
We don't know if he loves his wife, if he has kids,
if he prefers movies or plays.
We don't know anything. All they say is "115 killed".
It's like photographs. They've always fascinated me.
You see a snapshot of a guy with a caption underneath.
He was a coward, maybe, or a nice guy.
But at the time when it was taken...
no one can say exactly what he was thinking about.
His wife? His mistress?
The past? The future? A basketball game?
Nobody will ever know.
That's life for you.
Yes... that's what makes me sad: Life is so different from books.
I wish it were the same:
Clear, logical, organised...
Only it isn't.
Yes it is... a lot more than people think.
No, it isn't, Pierrot.
My name's Ferdinand... I won't tell you again!
I know... but you can't say My friend Ferdinand.
You can if you want to, Marianne.
I want to.
I'll do anything you want.
Me too, Marianne.
I'm putting my hand on your knee.
Me too, Marianne.
I'm kissing you all over.
Me too, Marianne.
We'll see...
Marianne... Renoir
Rise up, Lazarus!
You see? I was right. - What about?
You didn't believe we'd always be in love.
No, I didn't... I never told you I'd love you all my life
Oh my love
You never swore to adore me all your life
We never made promises like that, knowing me
Knowing you
We never thought we ever would be caught by love
Fickle as we were
And yet, and yet, step by step
Without a word between us. Bit by bit
Feelings slipped between our merry mingled bodies
And words of love rose to our naked lips. Bit by bit
Lots of words of love began to mingle
Gently with our kisses. How many words of love?
I never would have thought I'd always want you
Oh my love
We never would have thought we two could live together and not get bored
Wake up every morning and be just as surprised to be just as happy
In the same bed
Desire nothing more than that oh so banal pleasure
Of feeling so good to be together
And yet, and yet, step by step
Without a word between us. Bit by bit
Our feelings bound us tight in spite of ourselves, bound us tight forever
Feelings stronger than any words of love
Known or unknown
Feelings so wild and so strong
Feelings we never thought were possible before
Don't ever promise to adore me all your life
Let's not make promises like that, knowing me
Knowing you
Let's keep the feeling that this love of ours
This love of ours
Will be short and sweet
We'll know when we're dead. In 60 years, we'll know if we were always in love.
That's not true. I know I love you.
But I'm not sure about you.
I do, Marianne, I do.
Well, I'll know soon enough.
Your wife was here this morning.
I don't give a damn!
That's not all.
I don't give a damn, I said.
Marianne tells - Ferdinand
a story - all mixed up
I knew some people - like in the Algerian war
I can explain it all - escape from a bad dream
Frank had the keys? - I can explain it all
were you in love? - I can explain it all
did he kiss you? - I can explain it all
a story - all mixed up
leave in a hurry - escape from a bad dream
I knew some people - politics
an organisation - get away
gun-running
in silence... in silence
in silence
it's me... Marianne - he kissed you
a story - all mixed up
I knew some people - you were in love
use my apartment - the Algerian war
my brother - escape from a bad dream
leave in a hurry... leave in a hurry leave in a hurry...
answer - clobber him
argument - garage
who is it? - down south
get away - no money
It was time to leave that rotten world anyway.
We left Paris by a one-way street.
Recognizing two of her children,
the Statue of Liberty gave us a friendly wave.
Hey, Mr!
Put a tiger in my tank.
We don't sell tigers.
Then fill'er up and shut up, Jack!
If it's me, he won't suspect.
That'll be 49 francs.
Water and oil, pal!
Help me, dope!
Christ! Another one!
I remember a trick from Laurel and Hardy. Get in!
Shame on you! You haven't any money? - No, sir.
Then get a job. Don't you want to work?
No, sir, we don't.
Then how are you going to pay me?
Christ! There's still one left!
Call the police.
Sum-total: - it was an adventure film
Necklace of blood
Sum-total: - Tender is the night.
It was a love-story. It was a love-story
Tender is the night. - It was a love-story.
We'll find my brother eventually.
Just what kind of smuggling is he in?
Oh... things in Africa.
Angola... The Congo...
I thought he did TV shows in Monte Carlo?
Yes... that too.
Let's decide where we're going.
We said we were going to Nice... then maybe Italy.
We haven't enough money to get to Nice.
We'd better dump this Peugeot.
Did you ever kill a man, Pierrot?
My name's Ferdinand. Why do you ask?
Because I can tell it's going to turn your stomach.
I wonder what she told the cops.
Maybe she hasn't seen them yet.
That's rich, Fitch!
She told them everything she could to hurt you!
She did right.
Anyway, I'm sorry for her sake.
Sorry?
Men like you are always sorry.
But it's always too late.
What are you doing?
Looking at myself.
And what do you see?
The face of a man who's about to drive over a cliff at 60 mph.
I see the face of a girl...
in love with the man who's about to drive over a cliff at 60 mph.
Then let's kiss.
The next day
we find the Peugeot - entering a town in central France
with its tank - almost empty.
Marianne - and Ferdinand
stop at a bar - and order drinks
wondering - how to pay for them.
Their descriptions are on the radio. - People stare at them suspiciously.
Their descrip... - People stare at them suspiciously.
The people are:
Lazlo Kovaks, student;
born January 25, 1936...
at San Domingo; forced to flee the American invasion.
Now residing in France as a political refugee...
France: The land of liberty, equality and fraternity.
Viviane Blassel, born March 21, 1943 in Marseilles.
Uh... I'm 22, I work at Auxerre Emporium, perfume counter.
Ete, Andre, born May 25, 1903 in Marbouie.
Age: 62... Present occupation: Motion picture extra.
Let's tell stories.
The right words may move them.
What stories? - Anything at all.
The Fall of Constantinople, or the story of Nicolas De Stael and his suicide.
Or the one about William Wilson:
He saw his double in the street and wouldn't rest till he'd killed him.
When it was done, he realised he'd killed himself,
and it was his double who was left.
OK, maybe they'll give us some money.
Marianne had the eyes of both Romeo and Juliet,
so she told them about William of Orange's nephew, Vivien,
who died fighting 30,000 Saracens.
He bled from 1,000 wounds
and he fought alone, for he'd sworn not to retreat.
Oh, young and gentle nephew, why such a mad, noble oath?
Ferdinand told them the story of Guynemer,
but they didn't listen.
Then he spoke of the summer,
and of how lovers crave the warm night air.
He spoke of man, and the seasons, and unexpected encounters.
But he told them never to ask which came first,
words or things... nor what comes next.
I feel alive, and that is all that matters.
I've got an idea!
We'll fake an accident.
The police will think we're dead. OK, Pierrot?
My name's Ferdinand!
All we have to do is... - What?
...burn the car! They'll think we burned too!
Always fire, blood and war! - It wasn't my idea!
Bring it closer.
It's got to look real. This isn't a movie.
Closer, hurry up!
No matches... Let's go.
That's OK, give me the rifle.
The same make that killed Kennedy!
Sure, didn't you know it was me? Get out of the way.
Wait a minute...
Pretty, isn't it?
You know what was in that suitcase? - No... what?
The dollars you were looking for in the flat.
Poor idiot! I'll bet you didn't tell me on purpose.
That's right.
Think what we'd have done with all that money!
We'd have gone to Chicago... Las Vegas... Monte Carlo... You poor idiot!
I'd have gone to Florence and Athens.
Let's go... Travel broadens the mind!
Chapter Eight. - A season in hell.
Chapter Eight. - We crossed France
like shadows - through a mirror.
Like shadows - through a mirror.
I saw the cafe...
where Van Gogh decided to cut off his ear.
You're a liar. What did you see? - I saw...
Look, Pierrot, a Ford Galaxy.
My name's Ferdinand. Yes, that's the '62 model.
Show me that you're a man. - Wait till I finish this.
After eating up a good many miles, they came to the Bayorda desert,
which they had to cross to reach Karthum.
'Darn! Not much shade! ' They grumbled,
as they set out across the sand under a burning sun.
'We'd be a lot better off in the cool shade of a glass of lager! '
Make up your mind or I'll hitch-hike!
Let's go, daddy-o!
A grease-job.
Where's the lavatory?
Hey, kid! How'd you like to own a car like this?
Very much! - Well, you never will.
Marianne, the jacket!
Hey, kid! How'd you like to earn 100 francs?
The landscape rose slowly before us.
Countless centuries fled into the distance,
like so many storms.
Get rid of our clothes while I turn around.
Heigh-ho, the Rover Boys!
Hurry!
Well? - Nothing special.
They questioned her.
She said she saw us naked in my bed.
You see? And you called me a liar!
Anything else?
Still interested in your wife, eh?
Nothing at all.
I can't understand it! He's gone crazy!
Leave a woman and she'll claim you're off your nut.
Oh, men are the same way.
That's true.
What's more, I'm beginning to smell the odour of death.
Go ahead and say you miss her!
Cut it out! You get on my nerves!
No... the smell of death in the landscape, the trees,
in women's faces, in cars...
We're going to be in a hell of a fix without money.
We can't even get to Italy.
We can just stop anywhere.
We can stop anywhere.
And what will we do all day?
No, let's find my brother first, he'll give us lots of dough.
Then we'll find ourselves a high-class hotel and have some fun!
All she thinks about is fun! - Who're you talking to?
The audience.
I told you so... You're already sorry.
You were crazy to do this. - No, I'm in love.
It's the same thing.
I've decided never to fall in love again.
It's a disgusting habit!
Don't say that!
Ten minutes ago, I saw death everywhere. Now it's just the opposite:
Look at the sea, the waves, the sky...
Life may be sad, but it's always beautiful!
Suddenly I feel free. I can do what I want when I want!
Look! Left... right... left... right...
Look at the crazy little man!
He's driving down a straight line and he has to follow it all the way!
Yeah? Just watch this!
Chapter Eight
A season in hell. - Love needs to be reinvented.
Real life is something else.
Countless centuries fled into the distance,
like so many storms.
I held her close and I started to cry.
It was our first,
our only dream.
Coming?
Where?
To the mysterious island, like Captain Grant's children.
And do what? - Nothing. Just exist.
It doesn't sound like much fun! - That's life.
No, not at all!
It's a good thing I don't like spinach,
because if I did, I'd eat it,
and I can't stand the stuff.
It's the same with you,
only the other way round.
There was a film like that with Michel Simon. He got taken by this girl...
Well, you wanted to start life over! - I didn't mean to be nasty.
You said we'd see it through to the end.
Yes... to the end of the night.
What a good view of the moon!
I don't find it so special.
I do... I see a man up there.
Maybe it's Leonov, or that American... White.
Yes, I see him too.
But it's not a Rusky and it's not a Yank.
You know who it is? - Who?
It's the moon's only inhabitant.
And you know what he's doing? Running away as fast as he can.
Why?
Look. - Why?
Because he's fed up. When he saw Leonov land, he was glad.
I'll bet! Someone to talk to at last!
He'd been all alone for an eternity.
But Leonov tried to stuff his head with Lenin.
When White, the American, landed, he fled to his camp.
But as soon as he saw him, White jammed a Coke into his mouth...
and made him thank him first!
So now he's fed up.
The Americans and Russians can shoot it out;
he's going away.
Where? - Here.
Because he thinks you're lovely...
He admires you.
He thinks your legs... and your breasts... are very moving.
Be quiet...
Chapter Seven
A poet named revolver - Robert Browning
get away - never
beloved - as long as I'm me
and you're you
as long as the universe will hold the two of us
I, who love you - and you, who reject me
as long as we want to run - it's too much like fate
Any creature, faced with nature, will believe.
We live by hunting and fishing. Tuesday: Nothing
Eyes: Human landscapes... Mouth: Onomatopoeia that end up as language
Ruins beget the language of poetry
The writer chooses to appeal... freedom of others
Did you get all the books? - No... But I found this:
It's by someone with your name.
Oh, Ferdinand. - You've heard of him?
"I was fire, I was light, I was miracle.
I could no longer hear... I was rising...
I passed... through the air..."
It's too much!
"I saw happiness... in front of me...
Supernatural emotion!
And then,
I lost all sense of awareness...
I went forward... a bit with my hands...
and I dared... to the right...
I touched... softly...
the hair of my good fairy...
of my adorable miracle...
Virginia."
Guignol's Band. OK... Now, are you coming?
"Perfect happiness!
Ah! My ecstasy was so intense...
that I dared not move.
Crying with happiness, smitten with happiness...
I quivered, quivered...
My heart could swell
and burn me... I didn't care... I, too, was flame.
I was in space, I clung to Virginia."
Give me that.
"You promised me China and Tibet, Mr. Sosthene,
you promised me the Sunda Islands and wonderful, magic plants...
So where are they?
Cham-cham-cham... ratatam... I caught him up in his lies."
What's today? - Friday.
You'll never leave me?
Of course I won't. - Of course?
Yes.
Of course...
Yes... of course.
Thursday: Poetry is a game of loser take all
What am I to do?
I don't know what to do!
What am I to do?
I don't know what to do!
What am I to do?
I don't know what to do!
Silence! I'm writing!
"That is the basic problem...
You're waiting for me... I'm not there...
I arrive... I enter the room...
That's when I really start to exist for you...
But I existed before that... I had thoughts...
I may have been suffering...
So the problem is to show you alive, thinking of me,
and at the same time, to see me alive by virtue of that very fact."
Underlined.
Still thinking about your brother and that gun business?
No.
Why do you look so sad?
Because you talk to me with words,
and I look at you with feelings.
Conversation with you is impossible.
You never have ideas, only feelings.
That's not true! Feelings contain ideas!
OK... Let's try to have a serious conversation.
You tell me what you like, what you want...
and I'll do the same.
OK, you start.
Flowers,
animals,
blue skies,
the noise of music,
I don't know... everything! What about you?
Ambition,
hope,
the motion of things,
accidents,
uh... what else? Well, everything!
See? I was right five years ago.
We never understand each other.
What am I to do?
I don't know what to do!
What am I to do?
I don't know what to do!
What am I to do?
I don't know what to do!
Sunday... she opened the... then... Monday
How's the old man?
Fair to middling.
I've got an idea for a novel.
Instead of being about people's lives...
it would be about life, life as a thing in itself,
what lies between people... space,
sound, and colours.
That would be something worthwhile.
Joyce made a try at it,
but it should be possible... to do better.
I've got your books.
Those aren't the right ones!
There's one missing. I said five.
I bought a little record... Look.
I said a record every fifty books! Literature before music!
If you don't like it, little man,
little mouse, it's on the house!
What's eating you?
I can make rhymes, too, stupid!
What's the matter?
I'm fed up!
I'm sick of the sea and the sun and the sand!
I'm sick of eating out of tin-cans!
I'm sick of wearing the same dress!
I want to leave this place.
I want to live.
What do you want me to do?
I don't know... I want to go away.
Anyhow, I threw away the rest of our money.
Where? - In the sea, idiot!
You're crazy, Marianne!
If we're to leave here, we'll need money.
There're lots of tourists from the mainland...
We can rob them...
Come on, Pierrot.
My name's Ferdinand.
Oh, come on! We've played Jules Verne long enough!
Let's go back to our gangster movie,
with fast cars and guns and night-clubs.
Come on!
Wait for me, Marianne!
Do you really have a brother?
You never believe me, do you?
If we do find Fred and he gives us dough, why don't we go to Miami Beach?
You're a coward at heart. - No...
"Courage consists in staying home, close to Nature,
for she is oblivious to our disasters."
Hurry, or the tourist boat will leave.
Wait! I've got an idea...
Give me your lipstick.
"At bottom,
the only thing of any interest...
is the road that people follow.
The tragic part is that once they know...
where they're going and who they are...
everything else is still a mystery."
Like the scent of eucalyptus.
That's it..."eucalyptus." - You bet!
"And that mystery, forever unsolved, is life."
Get a move on, Paul! - Shut up, Virginia!
We are the dead on furlough. And the trees?
To earn some money,
we drew for the tourists.
Hey, what are you doing there?
Hey, you!
Damn! Americans!
That's OK, we'll change our politics.
I've got a good idea. - What?
We can put on a play. Maybe they'll give us some dollars.
What play? - I don't know. Something they'll like.
I've got it! The Viet Nam war!
Sure!
Naoyarge!
Oh, yes! Hollywood! Yes!
Communist.
A gang!
Sure!
Uncle Sam's nephew versus Uncle Ho's niece
Very good! I like that.
Hey, that's damn good. That's damn good.
That's terrific. That's damn...
A little something for the actors.
You know that didn't you? How you're good, fella?
Hey, where are you going there?
Hurray for Kennedy!
We've lost them. Let's go home.
I'm going dancing.
No, come on... You can go tomorrow.
Next chapter: Despair
No, I'm staying here. - OK, I'll go back alone.
Hope
You do that.
Remembrance of things past
I hear there's a dance-hall across the water.
I'm going dancing.
If we get killed, it's just too bad.
They'll catch up with us... so what?
Tuesday, I wanted to buy a record-player.
But he spent all our money on books.
Actually, I don't give a damn.
But he can't even begin to see that.
I don't give a damn about books...
or records, either. I don't even care about money.
I just want to live.
But he'll never understand that.
I want to live.
My fate-line is short as it can be
My palm is such an ill-fated thing
I'm afraid of what tomorrow may bring
My fate-line, my fate-line
Darling, what do you think of my fate-line?
What does it matter? It's fine, just fine
But your thigh-line is more in my line
My fate-line
I love to hold it in my lap
Your thigh-line!
My fate-line!
It's another feather... in my cap!
Just look at my little fate-line
Just look at destiny's call
So small you can hardly see it at all
My fate-line, my fate-line
Darling, what do you think of my fate-line?
What does it matter? It's fine, just fine
Give me your hand and don't say a word
Your thigh-line - My fate-line
Your hand is like a morning bird
Your thigh line - My fate-line
Frivolous bird, harbinger of fate
Although my fate-line is short.
It's too short, better than nothing.
At least, it's a little point on my hand.
My fate-line, my fate-line
Darling, what do you think of my fate-line?
What does it matter? It's fine, just fine
Every morning I'm the happiest man
Your thigh-line - My fate-line
A bird is singing in my hand
Your thigh-- - line...
My fate-- - line...
Maybe I'm daydreaming...
She reminds me...
of music.
Her face...
We have come to...
the age of double men.
We don't need mirrors any more to talk to ourselves.
When Marianne says:
"It's a fine day",
I wonder what she's thinking.
All I have is that image of her...
saying: "It's a fine day."
Nothing else.
What's the point of figuring it all out?
We are made of dreams,
and dreams are made of us.
It's a fine day, my love,
in dreams, in words and in death.
It's a fine day, my love, it's a fine day...
in life.
You know what I think? - I don't give a damn!
Now let's not start that again!
I told you to leave me alone!
Anyway, I'm not starting again, I'm continuing.
Oh, damn! - What?
Damn! Damn! Damn!
What's the matter?
I've got a subject of a novel for you.
What is it?
Someone is walking around Paris...
and suddenly he sees Death.
So he goes south to avoid running into Him,
because he figures his time hasn't come yet.
And then...
He drives all night at top speed,
and the next morning, when he reaches the sea-shore,
he has a crack-up and dies...
just when he thought Death had lost his trail.
Let's hurry. - There's plenty of time.
No... I'm scared.
Stay here.
Small world, isn't it? - What do you want?
I'll be back in five minutes. - Want me to beat him up?
I can handle him.
I have to find Fred, Pierrot.
My name's Ferdinand. OK, OK...
Two beers. - Two.
That way, when I've finished one, I'll still have one left.
Remember me?
You stayed at my place last year.
I lent you 1,000 francs.
You went to bed with my wife. - Yes, that's right.
So now you're in the south, eh? - That's right.
Everything OK? - Fine.
Cheero!
Are you Mr. Griffon?
Yes.
My name's Ferdinand... Yes, it's me.
I'm scared.
They're off their nuts.
I swear it's not a gag.
Tell me where the money is... or else!
We'll give you electric shocks...
the way they did during the war.
Or else,
Viet Nam style,
we'll undress you,
put you in a bath-tub full of napalm,
and set fire to it!
No, right away! Please!
Yes, anything you want. I'll be nice to you again.
So come quick!
We'll walk up.
A glorious death for a little man.
What are you doing here?
I heard a noise. I live downstairs.
Hit him.
We'll use that trick of yours.
Resistance is useless.
What'd you do with the money in the Peugeot?
Yeah... in the bath-room.
The trick you learned in...
We'd better not forget about the yacht!
Hey, there aren't any towels!
Use that little whore's dress.
Just press it to his face so the water will cut off the air.
To make it easier for you, I'll tell you all I know.
Then all I want is the answer to one question.
I know your name is Ferdinand Griffon.
I know you were with Marianne when she stabbed Donovan...
and ran off with my $50,000.
Fee fi fo fum.
Personally, I've nothing against you.
I'm almost sure Marianne dragged you into this. That's your business.
As I was saying...
I'm not interested in you, but I want her.
Now, tell me where to find her... and the money.
This is your last chance... Tell me, or we'll kill you.
Fee fi fo fum.
The "Marquise" dance-hall.
Either that's the truth or it isn't.
But he looks so dopey that I doubt he'll say any more.
Let's go have a look.
"Marquise" dance-hall.
Let's go and see it!
Thursday: I was quite normal but never...
Ah, what a dreadful five in the afternoon!
I do not want to see it!
Ah, what a dreadful five in the afternoon!
I do not want to see it!
Ah, what a dreadful five in the afternoon!
Next, we find Ferdinand arriving in... - Toulon.
He strolls along the waterfront. He is staying...
at the Little Palace Hotel.
He looks for - Marianne,
but doesn't find her. The days go by.
Some afternoons, he sleeps in all-day movies.
He still keeps a diary.
For words can lighten the shadows
around the thing they designate
even if it is degraded in everyday life.
Words retain only what is pure.
In Viet Nam, the Da Nang base, a major US stronghold,
was raided by the Viet Cong.
7 planes were destroyed on the ground.
In the jungle,
US soldiers fought side by side for the first time with South Vietnamese forces...
against Viet Cong guerrilla units.
Despite this increased activity, and the Commonwealth mediation failure,
Harold Wilson still offers to help promote negotiations.
That was all there was to it?
Yes, he turned away...
and left me bewildered.
It was up to me to decide...
when the imaginary character had given way...
to the real one if there ever was a real one.
I am Princess Aicha Abadie,
and in spite of my fragile, doll-like appearance,
I am a very strong-minded woman!
I do not like people to resist me, I want to be obeyed!
Your orders, ma'am?
I am Lebanese by adoption.
In 1960, I married the Emir Abadie,
and I am Queen of Lebanon in exile, for, as you know, my country...
is now a Socialist Republic.
I am therefore in Nice incognito,
as my husband and I have terrible enemies.
There are prices on our heads in Lebanon.
I am often the target of machine-gun fire...
which always misses me, no doubt because of Allah's protection.
In order to marry the Emir,
I had to convert to the Moslem faith.
I have flown to Beyrouth twice in my husband's space machine.
Well, Alexis? Please keep me...
from flying away, the sea is choppy, and you know how light I am.
Help me, Ferdinand.
Ferdinand, we weigh anchor in an hour.
Yes, Princess.
Alexis, take me into town.
Pierrot!
Pierrot.
It's me!
My name's Ferdinand... Hi.
You don't seem surprised to see me.
How'd you get here?
I'm so glad I've found you at last!
Where are you staying? - With you, idiot!
I'm staying with you. I looked for you everywhere!
Why didn't you wait for me?
I wanted to...
but I only just got away before those men came.
Then I ran to the dance-hall to tell you not to come,
but you weren't there,
so I went back
and I saw those other men getting into the blue Ford.
And I thought they'd killed you.
So I went away... I didn't care where...
I don't even remember where... I was afraid to go back to the sea-shore.
Then one day I ran into Fred in a bar.
I swear I did! The Las Vegas bar, in Toulon!
How'd you know I was here? - By accident.
It's the truth, you know...
I believe you, liar...
Why don't you ever believe I love you?
I do love you... in my own way.
That's true.
I can prove it.
Look... I went back to our beach and got your notebook.
Thanks.
Look at the last page.
There's a little poem about you. I wrote it.
"Tender... and cruel...
Real... and surreal...
Terrifying... and funny...
Nocturnal and diurnal
Toward and untoward
Handsome as anything - Crazy Pierrot..."
My name's Ferdinand! I told you so before, God damn it!
If you think it suits you to say God damn it...
God can go to...
Don't talk like that.
You can talk! We're wanted for murder! You know what a murder is?
Sure I know... So what? Does it scare you?
Well, answer me...
I'm looking at you, I'm listening to you, but that's not what counts.
Well, thanks a lot!
No... I mean right this moment, but it's already gone...
It's... oh, I don't know... the colour of the sky... our relationship...
I don't get it.
I wish time would stand still.
Look... I put my hand on your knee.
That's a wonderful thing in itself... That's life.
Space... feelings...
Instead, I'm coming with you... back to our tale of sound and fury.
Actually, I don't care.
Come on... Fred's waiting.
OK, forget it... Let's go, daddy-o.
I wonder what's keeping the cops. We should be in jail by now.
They're smart... They let people destroy themselves.
Why do you do things like that?
But I tell you I didn't kill him!
It's funny we've survived all that killing.
Yeah... funny...
Just like in Pepe-le-Moko. - Who?
Pepe-le-Moko. - Who's that?
Wow! You really don't know much!
What about you? Do you know what you are?
I am homo sexualis.
Says you!
I know who you are... But you don't know.
That's true. I'm just a huge question mark overlooking the Mediterranean.
Our independence... ...logic and... knew something...
Are your parents still alive?
Yes, and they've never been separated.
Once, they were almost separated.
Papa was taking a trip somewhere...
A little trip.
They didn't have enough money for 2 tickets...
Mama went with him to the bus-stop...
And they looked at each other:
Papa in the window, mama on the pavement.
And just as the bus started, papa got off in a hurry:
He didn't want to leave mama.
And while he was getting off in front, she was getting on in back,
because she didn't want to leave him.
Finally, papa gave up his trip.
What did you do in that shop?
Oh, I watched people's faces.
Where was it? - Galeries Lafayette.
Why all these questions?
I want to know exactly who you are.
I never knew... Not even 5 years ago.
Oh, I'm just a sentimental girl, that's all.
What a fool you are to make a mystery of that!
What's your brother do? I never know when you're making things up!
Oh... my brother...
What was he doing in Tel Aviv?
Listen... at the moment there's a war in Yemen...
You don't know anything!
He gets money from the Royalists...
What about those other men? The Arab League?
Who knows? Probably...
Is there really a troop of dancers?
What do you care?
Why does he need a cover?
Nowadays, gun-running is practically official!
What do you care? - Answer me!
Listen:
There are 3,600 seconds in an hour.
That makes about 100,000 seconds in a day.
In an average lifetime, that makes...
250 billion seconds!
All in all, the two of us have been together for a month.
Add it all up! You'll find I've only been with you a couple of million seconds...
out of the 250 billion that go to make up your life.
That's not much... So I'm not surprised that I don't know...
who you are, either.
Is he willing? - He'll do anything I want.
What a crazy set-up!
...to see liar ...reason...
What am I supposed to do?
You'll do as you're told.
Just keep your eyes and ears open.
Remember the scent of eucalyptus?
With you, it's always mixed up. - No, everything is simple.
Too much at once. - No...
A little harbour, as in Conrad
A sail-boat, as in Robert Louis Stevenson
An old brothel, as in Faulkner
A steward-turned-millionaire, as in Jack London
With you, it's always mixed up. - Everything's simple.
Too much at once - No...
Two men who beat me up, as in Raymond Chandler
and you... and me... and him... see how simple it is?
I don't see at all.
They want to - buy the yacht.
The old man - isn't French.
My brother - collects the money.
The others - don't know.
They'll be - furious.
They tail Fred... we get rid of them.
And then? - You'll do as you're told!
It's easy for a girl to kill a lot of people.
There's no reason why soft breasts and thighs...
should keep her from killing
everybody to stay free or defend herself!
Just look at Cuba... or Viet Nam... or Israel.
I love you! - Me too.
Next chapter: Despair
Next chapter: Freedom... bitterness...
Hey!
Seen a girl who looks like a movie star?
None of your business.
Is it all there? - Yes...
We all meet tonight as planned? - Yes...
Some people saw me.
I don't understand.
That way, it'll look like Fred's in the clear.
Why are you double-crossing me?
What's the matter?
Nothing...
I'm looking at a woman who's hurting me.
$50,000 would make anyone nervous, Pierrot.
My name's Ferdinand.
Why did you kiss me just now?
Because I felt like it.
Kiss me again. - Not here.
Why do you wear such tight slacks?
If you don't like it, go back to Paris.
Kiss me.
OK, I get it.
You know, it's not healthy to double-cross us.
"Be quiet, Cassandra."
What? - It's the title of this book.
You poor idiot!
Listen...
Marianne! - What?
TWA - Nice airport - 2:45 PM plane for Tahiti...
We just have to climb aboard.
Just the two of us...
Obviously.
Words are funny...
They say the opposite of what they mean.
We say "obviously" when things aren't obvious at all.
Like it wasn't obvious to me that I'd find the old man...
with a bullet-hole in his forehead.
Did you know your brother'd kill him? - It was none of my business.
I'm willing to run away with you,
but Fred will find us and get even.
I saw him get even with a girl once.
I'll protect you.
OK. But I have to go alone or they'll suspect.
OK, beautiful.
OK, handsome.
Well...
I'm off, since we've nothing more to say.
Meet me in half an hour.
No...
I'll count to...
137...
You're really crazy.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6...
What about the case?
Start the car. Trust me, and I'll trust you. 18, 19, 20...
Anything wrong?
It's... it's that tune.
You can't imagine what it means to me.
That tune... hear it?
No, I don't hear a thing.
You wouldn't understand...
That tune's my whole life!
When I hear it... it does something to me!
One day I was at home, it was on the radio...
She was sitting beside me. She was beautiful...
I took her hand, like this...
And I stroked the back of it, like this...
I asked her: "Do... you... love... me?"
She said: "No!"
So I bought the record, because that music got me!
A case of mass hysteria all by myself!
One day, at home, I put on the record...
It went round and round in my head! Everything was spinning!
She was beside me. Not the same woman, another one...
Not as pretty as the first...
But what can you do?
I took her hand...
and stroked it... on the other side, this time... I wanted a change.
I asked her: "Do... you... love... me?"
And she said: "Certainly".
But I didn't love her. So I broke the record!
One day, I turned on the radio and it was playing.
Why that? Why not something else?
She was beside me... on the other side: It was her house.
Still another woman...
I took her hand
and stroked it. On both sides, just to get it over with...
This thing was getting on my nerves!
I asked her: "Do... you... love... me?"
She said: "Yes, sir."
I asked her: Will you give me your hand?
She said: You've had it for ten minutes.
She was right... You're right, I said.
So I kept it.
I kept it ten years! I can't stand that tune any more!
Do you hear it? I can't stand it any more! Hear it?
No.
That one, right there... You can't hear it?
No.
Tell me... am I crazy?
Come right out and say it!
I'd like to hear you say it... Say: "You're crazy!"
You're crazy. - Well, that's more like it.
Going to the island? - Yes, sir.
What's your boat called? - Howa.
"Howa you"!
Then that tune I hear doesn't exist?
The tune I've been hearing all my life?
That tenderness? No! Insensitive man!
You missed the whole point!
Do you love me?
Marianne!
I held her close and began to cry.
It was our first, our only dream.
I want to make a call to Paris.
Balzac 75-02.
So you've forgotten Balzac, too?
Yes... I'll wait.
It hurts.
You brought it on yourself.
It's too difficult.
You brought it on yourself.
Please forgive me, Pierrot...
My name's Ferdinand.
It's too late.
Yes... I'm waiting.
Balzac 75-02?
Is Mrs. Griffon there?
Who is this?
The maid?
How are the children?
Nobody's calling!
Death
...what I wanted to say...
Why?
This is silly...
It's ours again - What is?
Eternity - No, that's just the sea
And the sun