Subtitles by Johnny Depp
Hello, Mr. Michaux! You're no bother at all!
I'm at the park, practicing my boomerang.
I do it before the office, to relieve stress.
Dinner, Wednesday evening? I'd be delighted!
Hi!
- Coming to the game Wednesday? - No, I have a dinner party.
- Charlie. Coffee, please. - What dinner party?
- One of our customers invited me. - Why you?
At the bank, he stops at my window and chats.
- What about? - Everything... politics,
entertainment, sports...
He asks for my opinion and I tell him.
Why would he ask an idiot like you?
Listen, there'll be big shots at that dinner!
Mr. Perier says they're very interested in my ideas.
So maybe the idiot isn't me, okay?
That's wonderful!
I'll definitely be there on Wednesday,
unless something unexpected...
- You coming or going? - Going.
To Biarritz.
- What's in Biarritz? - It's my dad's birthday.
Say hello for me.
A coffee, please.
- You're coming Wednesday? - No, I'm busy. Are you going?
Sure. I'm in a bind. I don't have an idiot.
I've looked all over. Got one on hand?
No, but I'll think about it. I'm late.
What's that?
Dad collects them. A beauty, huh?
18th century. He'll love it.
- Your dad collects ladles? - He has over 300 of them.
He's retired. Keeps him busy.
Interesting! Could he discuss his passion in public,
- tell us the story of ladles? - No, Pierre.
- Does he come to Paris? - No, Pierre, not Dad.
What? It's a very original hobby.
- You want him for your dinner? - How can you say that?
I'd take your dad to an idiot dinner?
Yes.
You think I'm a bastard, eh?
Yes.
I was just kidding.
But I don't have an idiot yet. I'm panicked.
Hi, there.
Sorry!
Thanks.
- Sorry, it fell out of my folder. - That's okay.
- Don't you recognize it? - What?
The Eiffel Tower! Made of matches. 346,422 to be exact.
You did that?
One of my finest pieces.
- You've done others? - Are you kidding?
Take the problem of lift.
In this construction, that was the biggest challenge.
But let's start from the beginning.
What is a suspension bridge?
The angle of the matches can't be a tenth of a degree off!
A tenth of a degree, think of it!
The Concorde was a different problem.
- Here's a little quiz. - We've arrived!
Which took me longer, Eiffel or Concorde?
- We've arrived! - Really?
Already? Time did fly!
Pierre Brochant, please. This is Jean Cordier.
Pierre? I've got one!
- What's he like? - A world champion!
How's the soccer fan?
"Marseilles are turds! Marseilles are turds!"
Auxerre will get it Wednesday!
Look at that asshole!
- Sorry, Louisette. - I'm used to it.
Brochant Publishers here. Mr. Pignon, please.
Speaking.
Mr. Brochant for you.
- Mr. Pignon? - Yes.
My friend Jean Cordier gave me your number.
- You met him on the train. - Yes, of course.
He said a lot about you. I want to meet you.
To meet me?
François Pignon! He was so awed,
he was speechless. It'll be a delight!
- Who's Michaux bringing? - A boomerang collector.
- That's a good one. - Priceless, I hear.
- How many of us will there be? - 10, with Pignon.
It's shaping up.
- Shit! - What is it?
Christine!
- Did you cancel your dinner? - My God, that's cold!
- So, did you cancel? - A sore back needs heat.
- Dr. Sorbier said ice. - You reached him?
In his car. He'll be here soon.
Great. I need a drink. A splash of scotch.
- Did your sore back make you deaf? - No, I didn't cancel.
You're still going to that sinister dinner?
It's great fun. You think it's sinister...
Don't sulk just because I enjoy it!
Come on. Stay with me. You know I'm not feeling well.
So come with me, for a change. You'll have a blast.
Making fun of some poor guy?
But he's an idiot! Idiots are fair game.
A drink at his place, then dinner.
- At a restaurant? - No,
his friend has organized a big dinner.
I'm nervous. Which one?
- They're the same. - This one's redder.
It's more festive.
Mustn't forget my model file.
He wants to do a book! On my models, you realize?
Hurry, you'll be late.
You asked him here?
To study him before dinner. I hear he's fabulous.
I'll leave you two together. Enjoy!
- Where are you going? - I have a dinner too.
- I didn't want to go, but... - Dinner with whom?
Is it him? I don't want to meet him.
No, it's the doctor.
- Dr. Sorbier. - Come on up, Doctor.
Good evening, Doctor.
Fix him. He has an important dinner tonight.
- Christine! - An idiot dinner.
Each regular has to bring an idiot.
Christine, please!
The idiots don't know why they've been picked.
The fun is making them talk. Hilarious!
Not to me, so I'm leaving. Good night, doctor.
Sorry. I called you to fix my back, not my marriage.
- Can I wash my hands? - First door on the left.
In college, we used to invite ugly girls.
The ugliest one got a prize.
Yes, we did that too.
- But idiots are funnier. - But less definite.
Some idiots are quite obvious.
Mine's unmistakable.
You look great.
Thanks, Louisette.
Have a nice evening. Dazzle them!
- A friend of yours? - No.
My friends are not that dumb.
We pick aces. This is big league.
- Where do you find them? - It's hard.
A real manhunt. We have scouts who tip us off.
Fifth lumbar vertebra!
- Is it serious? - No, but call off your dinner.
- No! - Rest your back tonight.
- I'll stop by tomorrow. - But, doctor...
I have a prime idiot coming!
Give me a shot! I don't care! Anything!
Ice-bag and rest, or you'll be out for three weeks.
I'm jinxed.
My phone book, please.
The phone.
What's his name again? François Pignon.
- What does he do? - He's a tax man.
Isn't that dangerous? What if he finds out?
He won't. We're careful. No idiot ever found out.
He's out.
- Holy shit! - What?
His message. He tries to be witty. It's pathetic.
François is out, but don't pout!
No need to weep, wait for the beep!
Your turn to peep!
- Isn't he something? - Outstanding, I'd say.
- Here he is. - Don't move, I'll get it.
It's François Pignon.
6th floor, on the left.
He's coming.
I'll leave you a sedative. Take two if you're in pain.
- Wait for him. It'll be fun. - No. I'm late.
See you tomorrow. Call me at home if it gets worse.
See you. Leave the door open.
- Do me a favor. - Certainly.
Never invite me to dinner. I'd wonder!
- Good evening. - Evening, sir.
Go on in. It's open.
Thanks.
Good evening, Mr. Pignon! Come on in!
I can't get up.
I twisted my back. We'll have to put off our dinner.
I'm sorry for you. A sore back is no fun.
It's silly. What are you doing next Wednesday?
Next Wednesday... nothing.
My friend's giving another dinner. You're invited.
How very nice.
We missed you today. We won't miss you next week.
...l'm talking about the authentic boomerang,
not those you find in Sydney souvenir stores.
The primitive boomerang of proud aboriginal warriors,
that boomerang
has a dynamism, a motion
when it's thrown correctly, that is miraculous!
How are you?
Not too hot. I'm a wreck. It's a real shame.
Sit down.
No, it won't be possible tonight.
We haven't sat down to dinner yet, so...
It can behead a kangaroo from 150 feet!
Okay, but don't count on us.
Yes, he's here. Very nice.
He looks like a real winner.
No, I'll bring him over next week. Bye!
So how are you, Mr. Pignon?
Very well. Thanks.
The message on your machine is so witty.
Really? I wanted it to be original.
I'm still laughing.
Everybody comments on it.
Friends ask me to record their messages.
- I can see why. - I could do yours...
- No need. - It'd take a minute.
No, it's fine as it is,
even if it might be a little conservative for you.
I'm delighted to meet you.
Likewise.
Since you called me at the Ministry,
I've been walking on air.
I thought it was a joke. Did I sound dumb on the phone?
Yes... I mean, no. You were perfect.
A big publisher wanting to do a book on my models,
inviting me to dinner...
you've changed my life.
The book project isn't quite final yet...
I brought photos of my finest pieces.
- The Eiffel Tower. - Superb.
- Took me eight months. - It shows.
- You do them at night? - And on weekends.
- Whenever I have time. - Are you married?
Yes... I mean, no.
- The Tancarville Bridge. - Great!
- So are you married or not? - Well...
- my wife left me. - She did?
For a friend of mine.
Those things happen.
A guy I knew at the Ministry. Not a bad guy.
I invited him home. She fell for him.
I don't know why, because he's no genius.
You know how many matches in this one?
- What do you mean, no genius? - The guy she ran off with.
What a dumbbell!
Come on, say a number.
Dumber than... I mean, you're pretty smart,
so how would he rate against you?
Sorry to be so blunt, but he's quite the idiot!
My God!
So?
How could she run off with an idiot?
I agree. He only talks about windsurfing!
- Can I meet him? - You like windsurfing?
I love it.
Then you'll love Benjamin! We call him Dumbo.
He's in the phone book. Under Benjamin, not Dumbo.
So, how many matches?
2,000?
346,422!
That's not all. How many tubes of glue?
We're going to that dinner!
- You can walk? - I'll try.
- You got a car? - Sure.
If you drive, we'll manage. Help me up.
Here we go.
You okay?
Take it easy.
- 37! - What?
37 tubes of glue.
We'll have a wonderful evening, Mr. Pignon!
I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?
There might be broken bones.
- Now what? - A chiropractor!
- No need. - A buddy of mine. He's great.
- I don't need him! - He's the best in Courbevoie.
I don't want him! Go home, I'll be fine.
- What about dinner? - It's off.
I'm in no shape now!
The machine's on.
We're out. Speak after the beep.
Your message is a bit flat.
It's me. I won't be coming home tonight.
I may never come home again.
Sorry to tell you this on a machine,
but maybe it's best.
Goodbye, Pierre.
I'll be going now.
- Sure you don't need anything? - Yes.
Everything's fine. Good night.
Sorry...
I forgot my briefcase.
I'm with you, Mr. Brochant. All the way!
- Thanks a lot. Goodbye. - Goodbye.
- What can I do for you? - Nothing. I'm fine. Good night.
I really know what you're going through.
I'd like to be left alone!
I said that when she left me,
and I nearly died of grief alone in my house.
Plus, you've got a bad back.
She hasn't left me. She's a bit depressed.
She'll be back. Now go home, and good night!
"She'll be back." That's what I said for two years.
I'm off to bed. Turn out the lights.
Can't I call my chiropractor buddy?
- No! - He's great.
And cheap. Know what he charges for house calls?
I'm with Pr. Sorbier of the West Side Hospital.
I don't need your buddy!
Yours may be good, but look at you now!
Because you fell on me!
Why do I even argue with this jerk?
You're like a horse that missed a jump.
At the track, they'd put you out of your misery.
Go away, Mr. Pignon!
This could be dangerous.
If the spinal marrow is affected, you might get paralyzed.
Then, you'll need quite the miracle!
- Call Sorbier! - That's better!
- What's his number? - Look in that book.
Pr. Sorbier, please. For Pierre Brochant.
- Pierre Brochant? - I need the doctor right away.
- There's no doctor here. - Sorry, I dialed a wrong number.
I skipped a line.
- The handwriting's so tiny. - Who cares?! Just hang up!
Yes, I'm at his place.
Yes, he's here.
No, he's in pretty bad shape.
He's got a bad back.
He can't move, he's spread out on the floor
- like a sack of potatoes. - Who are you talking to?
Who am I talking to?
Really?
Then I can tell you he's in very bad shape.
His wife left him, too.
- He's broken, body and soul! - Stop that!
I must go. He's about to lose it. Bye!
- It was your sister! - I don't have a sister.
You don't?
I said, "Who is this?" She said, "His sister."
He called Marlene!
She's not your sister?
Her name is Marlene Hissister!
How could I know? She said, "Marlene, his sister."
- It's confusing. - Give me that phone.
Hurry! If my wife's gone, she'll come running.
All I need is a nymphomaniac!
She's a nympho, too? Oh, my!
Stop it, will you?
If I call, she'll go on for hours!
Tell her my wife's back. Hurry, damn it!
- My wife's back, everything's well. - Really?
- That's what you say! - Right, sorry.
Marlene Hissister!
Marlene Hissister?
It's me again. I'm calling to say Mrs. Brochant came home.
Yes, a moment ago.
She's fine, Mr. Brochant is fine, everybody's fine.
His back is sore, but he's taking it better.
Say goodbye!
I'm not really a friend of his. He likes my models.
I make matchstick models of engineering feats...
the Tancarville Bridge, the Golden Gate Bridge...
- She doesn't care! - She's very interested!
- Don't tie up my phone line! - Sorry, I have to go now.
He needs me and in his shape, I can't leave him alone.
Oh my God!
Alone? His wife isn't back?
What?
Sure she's back... but she stepped out.
She hasn't walked out, she stepped out...
to throw out the garbage.
What is this?
Aries, with Gemini ascending.
- Aries don't lie. I'm not lying. - Enough!
I'll be right over.
She said, "I'll be right over," and hung up.
Give me that phone!
Sorry, I played it too cool.
I didn't expect her to be so cunning.
It's you, darling.
I'll drop off the dogs and be right over.
Don't!
My wife'll be home any minute. Don't come over!
Sorry, but I doubt she'll be returning.
Know what I think? She's back with Leblanc.
Leblanc? Why even bring him up? It's over between them!
I say she's with no one! Please stay home tonight, okay?
That nut won't listen!
You can go now. I need to be alone.
Can I help you to your room? You can't sleep on the floor!
Get me to the sofa.
Slowly.
Look ahead.
- They're all alike, eh? - What?
I gather yours ran off with someone too.
She ran off with nobody.
Mine ran off with nobody, also,
because Benjamin is a nobody.
- But she still ran off with him! - Hadn't we said goodbye?
Yes, I'll be off.
I'll get you some water for the pills, then I'll leave.
Is he a friend of yours?
Go to hell!
Briefcase!
When you asked about my life, I didn't say "Go to hell."
Farewell, Mr. Brochant.
Leblanc was my best friend. We quarreled two years ago. Okay?
Over what?
He made a pass at your wife?
No, I stole her from him.
He lived with Christine. She left him for me.
They wrote a novel together and brought it to me.
Then what?
I took both the novel and Christine.
All you windsurfers steal your friends' wives?
I'm no windsurfer! Give me a break!
But you told me...
I don't do it enough to swipe my friends'...
what am I saying?
Is your curiosity satisfied?
Why don't you call him?
- Who? - Him. To see if she's with him!
I call and say, "Did the woman I stole come back?"
At least, you'd know.
I called Benjamin and asked, "Have you left with Florence?"
He said yes and hung up. At least I knew.
- What if I called him? - You?
I can say, "I'm a friend of Mrs. Brochant's,
- where can I reach her?" - And he won't suspect a thing!
- I'm just trying to help. - Thanks,
but she's not with him. I need rest.
I won't insist.
Good night!
- Mr. Pignon? - Yes?
If I tell you exactly what to say, could you do it?
Sometimes I feel like you think I'm an idiot.
Of course I can! What do I say?
We could use the book they wrote.
Tell him you're a movie producer.
You've read the book and want the movie rights.
Good idea!
Then casually, you ask about his co-author.
- What co-author? - My wife!
- He wrote it with her! - Right. I'm sorry.
- It'll never work! - It will!
- It's not easy, but I got it. - Not easy?
You're a producer, okay? You have a company in Paris.
No, he knows everybody here. Foreign.
American? German?
Belgian! That's it!
- Why Belgian? - It suits you.
You're a Belgian producer, you read "The Merry-Go-Round,"
and want to buy the movie rights, okay?
- Is it a good book? - It's awful. Why?
- It bothers me. - Why?
If it's awful, why do I want the rights?
Mr. Pignon? You're not a producer, are you?
No.
- You're not Belgian, either? - No.
So you're not calling about the book, you're calling about my wife!
That's tricky, but clever as hell!
- What's his number? - 01.47.45...
never mind, I'll dial it.
- His name is Juste Leblanc. - He has no first name?
I told you, Juste Leblanc.
Leblanc's his name, Juste his first name.
Mr. Pignon, your first name's François.
Just think his is Juste.
We're wasting time.
My wife wrote under her maiden name, Le Guirrec.
She's from Brittany?
- Please, stay focused! - Sorry.
At the end, ask him
where you can contact Christine Le Guirrec.
I'll put on the loudspeaker.
- Go to it. - With a Belgian accent?
Can I talk to Mr. Juste Leblanc?
Speaking.
Good evening, Mr. Leblanc,
George Van Brueghel here, sorry to bother you so late.
I'm a Belgian producer, I just got in from Belgium,
and I'm very interested in your novel...
"The Merry-Go-Round"!
I'd like to discuss buying the movie rights.
Is this a joke?
Not at all, why?
- Etienne? - What?
Cut it out, I know it's you.
You're mistaken. I'm not Etienne, I'm a producer from Brussels.
- What company? - Sorry?
What's your company called?
Flatland Films.
A young, but dynamic company.
- And you're interested in my novel? - Very interested.
- For a movie or TV? - A movie.
A movie, for the big screen.
Not the small box!
I want to do the screenplay myself.
No problem.
But we're a small company with limited budgets.
- If you're not too greedy... - What about my wife?
We'll talk money later. When can I meet you, Mr...?
- Van Breughel... - My wife!
I'll call tomorrow for a meeting.
- Talk to you tomorrow. - Talk to you tomorrow!
There! We have the rights!
And for peanuts, I'd say! He fell for it, he did!
What about my wife?
What?
He forgot about my wife!
He yaps for five minutes and forgets about my wife!
I blew it!
This tops my wildest dreams!
Indeed, I blew it.
This is record breaking!
- I'll call back. - Give me that phone!
I'll say, "How can I reach your co-author,
- Christine Le Guirrec?" - Give me that phone!
Too bad, we were about to find out.
You'll say, "How can I reach your co-author, Christine Le Guirrec?"
And no more.
...Some guy with an appalling accent.
Van Brueghel. His company's called Flatland Films.
I never heard of it, either...
Hold on, someone's calling on the other line.
Sorry to disturb you, it's Van Breughel again.
My agent's on the other line. I'll call you. What's your number?
01.45.90.56.03.
- He cut me off. - I did, you idiot!
Idiot?
You gave him my phone number!
Sure, he wants to call me back.
You never stop, do you?
Sorry, I'm out of my depth. I'm doing my best, but...
World class!
Maybe the world champion!
It's ringing!
It's ringing, and he's happy!
He's calling. Don't we answer?
We're out, speak after the beep.
Pierre, it's Juste.
I wondered about the Belgian weirdo,
then realized you're looking for your wife.
Ask me yourself, without the accent. Bye.
Juste? It's me. Where is she?
I've waited two years for this. But I feel sorry for you.
Don't. Just tell me if she's with you.
She called to say she'd left you.
She was very upset.
- Did she say where she was going? - No.
Where could she be?
It's painful, huh?
You know exactly how I feel. But I've got a bad back, too!
No kidding?
You'd laugh if you saw me... bent over, unable to move.
You want me to stop by?
Thanks, but I'd rather be alone. Thanks again.
You don't have to, but if she calls you again...
I'll call you, I promise.
Thanks.
I don't deserve a friend like you.
Hand me that pad, please.
Put this on the door.
"I've taken a sedative,
I'm asleep,
I need to be alone tonight."
- I hope she won't bug me! - Shall I wait for her?
You stay in your room, and I'll stand guard.
- You've done enough! - I know I goofed on the phone.
I'm really sorry. I truly want to help you.
Just help me to bed.
If you feel depressed, call me and I'll be back in a second!
No!
You know what I lacked most when mine left?
A friend to hold my hand.
Goodbye.
Miss Hissister! This is for you.
We spoke on the phone.
Aries, with Gemini ascending.
I dialed your number by mistake.
Then I realized you're his girlfriend.
- His girlfriend? - Yes.
Sorry I was a little confusing. But it's very simple.
His wife left him, but he doesn't care.
He's asleep and can't be disturbed.
Got that?
Perfectly. I'll have a word with him!
Marlene!
May I call you Marlene?
Please.
I haven't known him long, but I understand him.
So take my advice.
- I'm listening. - Give it time.
His wife just left, so don't rush in.
Be the sensuous, amusing mistress you are,
all garter belts and champagne.
Keep on seeing him three to four times a week,
wait for your turn. He'll fall when it's due.
He said he saw me three to four times a week?
I felt he'd see you every day if he could.
So don't insist. Go home, it's your best move.
You're right, I won't wake him.
Good move!
I have the feeling he'll soon be at your door with flowers.
Was he taking you to a dinner party?
Yes. Did he mention me?
Even if he hadn't, I would have guessed.
Nice work!
I saw the light was on and figured you weren't asleep.
- You still here? - Thank God I am!
- Why? - We had a visitor.
- Who? - The nutcase.
- Marlene? - She just left.
She was about to force your door.
You're lucky a guy called Pignon told her "Keep out!"
- You got rid of Marlene? - Yes.
I don't want to brag, but I was pretty cool.
I was sweet, but firm. Got rid of her fast.
- You won't see her again! - That's good news.
A pity, because she's a real looker.
- What does she do? - She's a writer.
Another one? You sleep with all your authors?
- None of your fucking business. - Maybe not,
but I think it isn't nice.
I never cheated on my wife.
And the Ministry of Finance is a bunny hutch!
Leave me alone now.
It never ends!
Who is it?
It's Mr. Leblanc.
- You came. - I felt bad leaving you alone.
He wasn't alone. I took care of him.
Yes, and now you're leaving!
I'm off.
- I'll leave my pictures with you. - Thank you, but, no thank you.
They're models I make with matches.
Here's one of my finest...
He's not here to talk about models.
Sure.
Take your photos, I'm in no mood right now.
- What are you up to now? - Still writing.
And I've already got a published.
- What do you write? - We'll talk later.
I have bad news. She called.
She was torn between coming here and making a huge mistake.
I tried to convince her, but...
What mistake?
- Going to Meneaux's place. - What?
Pascal Meneaux, from the advertising company.
- She must be there now. - No!
Yes. He's wooed her for weeks, and tonight she...
- Aren't you done? - I'm filing them chronologically...
- Do that at home! - Okay!
Meneaux's the worst!
That's why she went. She's mad at you.
That two-cent Romeo. She's crazy!
Mine picked a real dummy!
Get out of here!
Good night, Mr. Brochant.
- Where does he live? - He has a love nest,
- but as to the address... - Good night, Mr. Leblanc.
It's very secret. No one knows it.
- Good night, Mr. Brochant! - Good night!
There must be a way to find it!
Meneaux had a tax audit!
Pascal Meneaux, advertizing. I've seen his file at the Ministry.
My pal's on his case. Meneaux has a love nest,
but it's no secret. Not to us, anyway!
Good night, Mr. Brochant!
Get him back in here!
Mr. Brochant wants to talk to you.
Forgive me, François, I was a little edgy.
I admit I was really hurt.
I rid you of that nut, you don't even thank me.
You won't look at my pictures...
- Sorry. Would you like a drink? - No, thanks.
I'm just arranging them. I won't bother you.
You're no bother at all.
He does amazing things with matches!
He does?
This was my first... 343 matches.
- Pretty rudimentary. - But promising.
- You haven't seen anything yet! - Could you get us that address?
I'd have to call Cheval, and I'd hate to.
He's watching soccer on TV.
- An oil derrick. - Superb. Did you see that?
Yes.
Know what I called it?
"Beau Derrick." After the actress Bo Derek!
Beau Derrick, Bo Derek!
We had such a laugh at the office!
My wife is with a deadly sex-fiend! Please call Cheval!
- Let's wait till half time. - Why?
If the game's dicey, he'll tell me to buzz off. Wait for half time.
- When is that? - Soon. We'd best watch the game.
- Got a TV? - Not for soccer games!
- It's a big game! - Who cares?
Sorry. The TV's in the den.
Go to it! Go to it!
- He's a bit of an idiot! - That's why I invited him.
- Is he the guy...? - Yes! It's awful!
No kidding! He's your dinner idiot?
I've had it!
- It's not funny! - Sorry, but you with a bad back
and a broken heart, stuck with this...
Stop it!
When she said she'd left you, I didn't laugh.
But seeing you with that jerk...
Don't move.
Nice!
Pignon!
Coming!
They scored! Half time's in a min...
- She's come home! - François Pignon, Marlene.
Who did you toss out earlier?
- Marlene. - What?
This is Marlene. Who did you toss out?
If this is so funny, get out!
Sorry.
A blonde in a beige raincoat?
You said, "That nut will show up!"
A woman shows up, I figure it's the nut!
What nut?
I'll be back.
What did you say to her?
- To whom? - To my wife!
Not a thing.
She comes home, and you chase her away!
I thought she was the nutcase.
I thought the nympho dumped her dogs
and came to make trouble.
Who is he talking about?
Please, go home! I have a serious problem!
- Pierre, listen to me. - Marlene, go away!
I cram three dogs in my car to come over, and you throw me out?
Scram, before it gets nasty!
- Leave, Marlene! - It's the smart thing to do.
He tossed out my wife!
I'm really sorry.
He drove her straight into Meneaux's arms!
Okay, I goofed. But anybody would have made that mistake.
- Get out! - We need him.
- Call Cheval! - I can't stand him!
I'm really sorry. I wanted to help you so badly.
It's half time! We must call Cheval!
I'll make it up to you! Tell me to call Cheval!
Think of Christine! We must save her!
- Tell me to call Cheval! - Tell me to!
- Tell him to call Cheval. - Tell me to!
- Call Cheval. - Thanks, Mr. Brochant!
Lt'll work out, you'll see!
Lucien, it's François!
How's the big Auxerre fan?
I'm no die-hard, and the game's not over!
Not over? You idiot! Two goals down and it's not over?
Auxerre is a team of clowns, dickheads and fuck-offs!
Yeah? Who got slaughtered last week?
Up Marseilles' ass, ream it with class!
- Go fuck yourself! - You, too!
What an asshole!
Marseilles are turds, Marseilles are turds!
He's such a jerk!
I'll call him back.
- He's in a league of his own. - It's been like this for hours.
I'm calling him. We feud, but we love each other.
I'm calling because I need a favor.
- Okay, on one condition. - What?
- Shout, "Go Marseilles, go!" - What?
Let me hear you shout, "Go, Marseilles, go!"
You must!
"Go, Marseilles, go!"
I'm doing this for you, Pierre.
You must need a big favor.
- It's important. - Go on.
You're on the Pascal Meneaux case?
Affirmative.
He has a love nest in Paris and I need the address.
You're not his type!
What?
He likes big boobs and hates hairy legs!
He's so funny!
It's serious. I need that address.
Why do you need it?
It's for a friend who thinks his wife is there.
At Meneaux's? His wife's there? Poor bastard!
- See why I need the address? - You bet!
I've watched Meneaux!
Any skirt drives him dingo!
Talk about a pig! Talk about a pig!
- That's enough! - That's enough!
Do I know this poor sap?
I doubt it. Ever had a tax audit?
No.
- No. What's the address? - I can't tell you now.
- I'll get it tomorrow! - That'll be too late!
It's urgent. It's a personal favor.
Can you go over to the Ministry now?
Now? What about the game?
Tape it. We'll watch it together.
I'm already taping the ice-skating show for my wife!
We'll tape the game! Go there for me!
You're a pain! I haven't eaten yet!
- We'll feed him. - You're invited here.
I don't know your sap!
He's a great guy. Hop over to the Ministry for me.
You're a drag!
I did say, "Go, Marseilles, go!"
What's the address?
9 University St, 6th floor, on the left.
- I'll be right over. - See ya.
We got it, Mr. Sap... I mean, Mr. Brochant.
It wasn't easy, but we got it!
- You okay? - Much better. The pills helped.
We've got to tape the game for that retard.
Cheval's no retard. He's our best inspector.
Let him loose in this apartment, and he'll strip it!
It might not be a good idea to let a tax inspector into your home!
You told him I was your friend!
- He wouldn't go to work on me! - Cheval would audit his own mother!
Is that a copy?
If you're clean, if your artworks
were declared, you'll be fine.
What'll we feed him?
I've got frozen stuff and eggs.
I'll make him a nice omelet!
- Give me a hand. - Watch your back.
- Where do we put it? - We'll put everything in my room.
Stop laughing!
That idiot managed to drive your wife to adultery
and to get you audited!
- What's that wine? - Lafitte Rothschild '78.
Don't serve him such expensive wine!
- That's all I have. - No table wine?
No!
I've worked like a dog so I wouldn't have to drink cheap wine!
I only have great wines! Or water!
- Does Cheval know about wine? - You bet he does!
You opened a fine bottle. He'll like that!
Hear that? We've got a problem!
I'll solve it. Just you wait!
- It has aroma. - What are you doing?
I'm putting vinegar in my Lafitte. Now we have cheap wine.
There! A wino's delight!
- Taste it! - You taste it!
No, thanks.
Weird... it has more body.
- Damn! - It hasn't ruined it.
- I'd say it's better. - Definitely.
Let me try.
Right. That's good to know!
That should do it!
- No! - Yes!
- Where's the bathroom? - Over there.
Perfect!
Cheval.
6th floor, on the left.
- You okay? - Yes.
- Here he is! - I'll get it.
You're giving him that to drink?
Lucien Cheval. Pierre Brochant, Juste Leblanc.
Mr. Cheval, thank you for...
- Don't tell me! - What?
The soccer score.
All I can say is that it's a tie.
- Really? - No, I was kidding!
What an idiot!
Isn't he an idiot?
You should have seen the look on your face!
He's so happy now! I made his evening!
We're in a hurry. You got the address?
- He's the man I told you about. - Yes, the...
- Right. - The address is in here.
I'm starving.
I made you a nice omelet. You'll love it!
- Am I the only one eating? - Yes. So where's this love nest?
I audited a Michel Brochant three years ago.
- Are you related? - Could be.
- Where does he live? - In jail. He got five years.
Nice guy.
Had a fancy place like yours, that we auctioned off!
Where's that fuck nest?
Let me look through all this stuff!
Advertising is quite lucrative!
What's your thing, Mr. Brochant?
Publishing.
Very profitable, too!
Please, the address.
St. James St... that's his home address.
- Where is that love nest? - Here's your omelet!
Thanks, François.
An good little table wine. A bit coarse,
but I get it for cheap.
Let's try this omelet.
What's wrong?
A masterpiece, François!
He's so silly. Thanks, Lucien.
Light, unctuous...
My secret's a few drops of beer in the eggs...
The address, damn it!
Lincoln St... that's his office...
Temple St...
that's not it either.
You been attached?
No, why?
Those light patches... paintings have been removed.
He doesn't miss a trick! You're fabulous, Lucien!
You came to help or audit him?
He came to help! Right?
Hurry! Poor Mr. Brochant is in a fix!
Yeah, poor Mr. Brochant...
Sure, Meneaux's quite the jerk,
but as we say, "dogs only go for bitches!"
Here we are. Barrès St. Near the park.
37 Barrès St.
- In Neuilly. - Great!
- I'm off. - Wait, make sure she's there!
Don't go till you're sure of it.
He won't open the door. He's sneaky.
- I'll kick it open. - What if she's not there?
- Then what? - We could call him.
To ask if my wife's in his bed, snug under his quilt?
- Under his quilt! - Are you done?
You had a knickknack there!
I can see the dust ring.
I told you, he's a real pro.
- Bravo, Lucien! - You'll make me blush.
Don't be so modest! You've busted many others!
We've got the address. Kick 'em out!
Stop it, please!
I've got an idea. Listen to this.
We scare Meneaux to make him come clean.
How?
You call and say you know everything,
you're coming to wreck his place with three tough guys.
Not bad.
We'll know right away by the way he reacts.
A fine strategy!
I can't call him. He knows my voice!
- He knows mine, too. - And mine. I'm with him all day.
I think I'm going to be needed!
- Oh, no! - Only he can do it!
I really feel up to it!
We'll coach him, and he'll do fine.
- Just wait and see! - If you don't want me to help...
But who would tell us to call him?
Someone who'd have the number to his love nest.
His partner, Roussin, would. They're very close.
Roussin it is.
Why wouldn't he call himself?
Why wouldn't Roussin call? Lt'll seem odd.
Meneaux told me he's heading to LA tonight.
Perfect! We're calling for Roussin who's on a plane.
Great!
- Got the strategy? - It's simple.
He has to rehearse! A lot! One hell of a lot!
Sit down. Repeat after me,
"I'm calling for Mr. Roussin.
He's on a plane, but has a message for you."
- Okay. - No, repeat it.
Pretend I'm Meneaux and repeat what I said.
- I've got it! - Please, repeat precisely.
"Hello, I'm calling for Mr. Roussin.
He's on a plane, and has a message for you."
- Perfect! - Not yet.
You add, "Brochant knows everything."
- No, repeat it! - Come on, he's not stupid!
"Brochant knows everything."
Then you say, "He knows about his wife."
If Meneaux asks who's speaking, you say,
"A friend of Roussin's. Brochant's coming with three pals."
"He's with three of his toughest pals."
- He's talented! - I'm just parroting.
- He's excellent! - Could I improvise a bit?
No!
Don't shout! You scared me!
Just stick to what I told you!
Come on, we're wasting time!
What's the number?
01.47.47.39.63.
- Here we go! - I'm scared.
- The strategy's fine. - I'm worried about the executor.
- It's ringing! - Loudspeaker!
Hopefully, they haven't done it yet.
- Why is he not answering? - He's too busy!
- Pascal Meneaux? - Yes.
He sounds tired. That's bad.
That's a bad sign.
Sorry to bother you.
I'm calling on behalf of Mr. Roussin.
Yes?
He's on a plane, but he has a message for you.
Go ahead.
- Brochant knows everything. - What?
He's coming to wreck your place!
Nice going.
Who is this?
A friend of Roussin's.
Brochant's coming over, and not alone.
He's with three of his toughest pals.
He's crazy! His wife's not here!
You're not with her?
She canceled out.
Roussin said, "He's with Mrs. Brochant."
Not at all. I'm with the wife of guy who's auditing me!
What?
The jerk's hounded me for months.
I'm screwing his wife, not Mrs. Brochant!
May I use your phone?
Certainly.
She went shopping this afternoon.
I asked her to take a form to Meneaux's office.
And bingo!
Good evening, Mr. Meneaux.
Could I speak to Mrs. Cheval, please?
You know who I am.
We're meeting tomorrow at 9:00, as usual.
We'll review your whole case.
Now let me speak to my wife.
Charlotte? Don't try to explain.
Leave that place at once!
Of course you can put your clothes back on!
I'm not alone.
I can't talk now. We'll talk at home.
Charlotte!
I did tape the ice-skating show for you.
That wine...
It is a bit coarse.
- I'm going to puke! The bathroom! - Here, Lucien!
First door on the left!
I said "on the left."
Interesting room!
A storage room, where I keep my old things.
- It's awful, but I don't care! - What is?
He's a tax dodger, and I don't care!
Get a hold of yourself. Run home and take a shower.
- Want the tape of the soccer game? - I'm in no mood for that.
- Goodbye, Mr. Leblanc. - Goodbye, Mr. Cheval.
- Goodbye, Mr. Brochant. - Thanks for all your help.
Don't mention it. We'll meet again soon.
I'm going to audit you. All this is suspect.
He recovered pretty fast!
- Where can she be? - I'll go home.
- If she calls, I'll call. - Thanks.
- Goodbye, Mr. Pignon. - Goodbye.
Is everyone leaving?
Yes, you can leave too.
Yes?
Speaking.
I'm her husband. Is something wrong?
Which hospital? I'm coming!
She had a car accident. She's at the hospital.
- Is it serious? - Just a concussion,
- but they're keeping her overnight. - I could drive you.
No, thanks.
Pierre, it's me.
I know you're there.
You're not being nice.
You promised to leave your wife. Look how you treat me now!
Answer me! I need you. I'm not well!
Pick up the phone!
If you don't, I'll do something silly!
His wife had an accident. He's at the hospital.
- An accident? - It's not serious, but...
- Serves him right! - Don't say that, Marlene.
Serves him right! He's mean!
His wife's in the hospital, and I'll kill myself.
Don't kill yourself. Try to understand, it's been hell...
He's a bastard!
Fuck, my glass... look at that mess.
Why did I fall for that bastard?
Sorry, I have to hang up.
Don't hang up!
Talk to me. It makes me feel better.
Hang up!
- She's suicidal. - It's blackmail.
Where are my keys?
Don't do anything silly! Swear you won't!
You're nice. But he's a bastard!
One hell of a bastard!
Don't say that.
He's so mean! Even in his way of having fun!
I have to go.
If he hadn't hurt his back, he'd be making fun of some guy.
What do you mean?
Hang up!
Didn't he tell you?
Every week, they hold a dinner game.
They invite idiots and make fun of them all night!
Let's go!
Your briefcase.
Quick. I'm in a hurry.
- Mr. Brochant. - Yes?
What was tonight's dinner for?
For friends who admired your work!
- Let's go! - Were there other guests?
Let's talk in the elevator.
What kind of guests?
Why these questions?
How do you pick your guests?
Get to the point.
Was I invited to your dinner for idiots?
It's you, darling. I was just leaving.
How are you?
What do you mean?
I love you, and I won't leave you alone!
I've learned a lot tonight.
I need you!
To hell with her!
She's not my girlfriend! That retard made it up!
I'm coming. We'll talk it over, okay?
The retard is leaving. But first, answer this:
Did you invite me to a dinner for idiots?
Look, in one evening,
you've avenged all the idiots who ever attended our dinners.
Good night, Mr. Pignon.
- She's right. You're mean. - So I'm mean!
My wife says it, and everyone agrees... I'm mean.
You can put it on my answering machine,
"Brochant is a meanie!"
Don't mix sedatives and alcohol.
Why not? It's the moral of the story...
Brochant the meanie gets drunk alone in his big place,
while nice Pignon goes home saying, "The bastard got punished!"
"Brochant's a meanie, Pignon's a beanie!"
Now what?
I need the number to the West Side Hospital.
He's at it again!
Thanks.
You won't get her. It's a public hospital.
West Side Hospital.
Mrs. Christine Brochant, please. She was in a car accident.
No calls for patients after 6:00 PM. Call tomorrow.
- There you go! - I must speak to Mrs. Brochant.
This is Pr. Sorbier.
Sorry, sir. Please hold on.
I'm in a rush, dear. Hurry!
- Mrs. Brochant for you, Professor. - Thanks, dear.
Stop this farce. She just hung up on me.
Pr. Sorbier for you.
Thanks.
Mrs. Brochant?
Yes, doctor.
I'm not Pr. Sorbier.
- Who is this? - I'm your husband's idiot.
What?
We briefly met. My name's Pignon,
I'm your husband's idiot for that dinner.
I'm listening.
I just found out why I was invited,
and I'm in a state of shock.
You were in a crash, and so was I!
Hello?
Yes, I'm here.
I'm not calling because I feel sorry for myself.
I feel sorry for him.
He may not be the meanest of men,
but he's the unhappiest.
I heard you tell him not to visit you.
He was so lost, so miserable,
that I forgot I was the idiot and decided to call.
- Mrs. Brochant? - Yes?
My wife left me two years ago. That day, my life was shattered.
I survived by making my models,
but deep down, I'm still a wreck.
I wish that on no one, not even your husband.
Is he there?
What?
He's feeding you the lines of this moving drama?
I swear it was my idea to call you.
He fed me nothing.
Is he beside you?
No, I'm in a phone booth.
He doesn't love me. He loves no one.
Mrs. Brochant, for two hours,
I saw your husband try to find you.
He even called Pascal Meneaux,
who was in the arms of a woman who wasn't you!
He called Meneaux?
He did.
You can't imagine what he did out of love for you.
He made up with his best friend, dumped his girlfriend.
He even braved a tax inspector!
He tidied up his whole life, in an exemplary way.
Now he's alone in his big apartment, mixing alcohol and pills.
I'm worried about him.
I know one can die of love, Mrs. Brochant.
I'll think it over. Thanks for calling.
Don't mention it.
Goodbye.
She'll call back.
- Mr. Pignon? - Yes?
We're going to the next dinner. But this time, you're taking me!
- And I'll win first prize. - I'm exhausted.
Being smart is very tiring.
- I'll try it sometime. - Promise me one thing.
Just ask.
Think twice before you call anyone an idiot.
I promise. I swear.
Here he is, Mrs. Brochant!
I thought you were in a phone booth.
You idiot!
- No, I'm back at his place. - What an idiot!
I can explain!
- What an idiot! - I'll call her back!
- I'll call her back, it'll be fine! - What an idiot!