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At Berkeley, I did my PhD alongside Locken and Donaldson,
two future Pulitzers.
They were no betterthan me, but they were American.
Me, I came back here,
I started to teach, got married, and then...
then nothing.
Your women kept you too busy.
- That was small time, like you said.
No, what I lacked was extravagance.
Extravagance.
I went in for pathetic trysts in poorly heated East End flats.
I was replaced by a TA within 48 hours.
The dean neglected to say goodbye.
The lowliest secretary gets a cake for maternity leave.
Ladies and gentlemen,
for health reasons I'll be unable to complete this term.
Ms. Raphaëlle Metellus will replace me.
Yes?
Does this affect our deadlines?
- No, deadlines and exam dates remain unchanged.
Any other questions?
Good luck.
Thanks.
So, as you saw last week,
the 1840 election was particularly stormy.
The Whig party...
then newly formed,
united four distinct constituencies.
First, the National Republicans,
followers of Adams and Clay, the party founders.
They were rapidly joined by the Conservatives,
who were hostile to...
Downstairs? Where downstairs?
- Downstairs. Take the stairs and go down. Simple enough.
He's got the whole floorto himself. You can't miss him.
- To himself? - We have take the stairs
every time he needs something.
You think I enjoy that? Plus everyone smokes in his room.
A never-ending parade of women... It's chaos. Get out of my way!
What a day!
Hi. Bye.
- How old is that one? - Who?
- The girl that just left. - I don't know.
- She's youngerthan your daughter. - Possible.
- She spends the night with you? I guess you pay her.
You could at least take one your own age!
- At this point, I don't really have a choice,
I have to take what I can get. - Do you know the pain
that kind of relation can cause?
Of course, you don't give a damn! It's the least of your worries!
So long as you ejaculate! - Oh, my God. Pardon me.
- No, Sister! Please stay. - I'll be back.
- No, no, stay! Stay. Come here. Please. I beg you.
It's one of those mornings where I'll be in desperate need
of the comforts of faith.
You pig. Piece of shit.
It smells like manure here.
- It's a candle I light for my prayers.
- Do you know what will happen to you in hell?
- No. - They'll lock you in a room
with all the women you seduced and you'll be forced to listen to them
for all eternity. - Help.
Eternity is a long time.
You pig. Piece of shit.
Piece of shit. Pig...
Stop it.
- Hi. - Hi.
Irina's home, I have to go out.
Okay.
Nathalie buying foryou?
She's a friend.
- If you're a regular, maybe we should deal directly.
It's only temporary.
Everything in life is temporary.
"You can never swim in the same rivertwice," said...
what's his face? You know...
What's-his-face.
Yeah, what's-his-face.
You can't count on Nathalie.
She'll pull a fast one on you.
We'll see.
You know where I live.
Sure.
Hasta la vista.
Baby.
- Pierre, I don't want to be indiscreet,
but do you sometimes hearfrom Arielle?
- Yes, we see each other from time to time.
From time to time?
They eat together every other week.
What's going on with your hair?
My hair?
- It's not as grey. - Think so?
You haven't started dyeing it?
- My wife's hairdresser recommended a shampoo.
Your wife's hairdresser?
- It's a revitalizing product, not dye at all, simply...
- You obey her every whim, don't you?
No. Not at all.
Come on, not every other week.
- And last Thursday? You dined together at Le Petit Extra, no?
Yes, dear, but...
- How long since you last saw her? - I don't know.
- Two weeks. You had lunch together
at Paris Beurre exactly two weeks ago. - It's just lunch.
- Well, I should hope you're not having dinner with her!
It's out of the question.
I agree with you entirely.
Rémy, please, shut up.
What? The child's right.
Personally, I've never invited a woman out to dinner
without the express intention of jumping on her like a crepe suzette.
Or, in the case of Asian women, a mushi pancake.
- What I like about you, Rémy, is that you're a loyal friend.
- You're lucky to have such honest friends.
- Oh, yes, very lucky. Extraordinarily lucky.
What are you doing here?
I was waiting foryou.
You're always on my mind.
I know, you've told me.
- At night I picture you bleeding in an alley, in shooting galleries.
I'm always so scared.
It's unbearable. - You imagine too much.
You know this can't go on.
- Of course I know. I know it better than you. You can't help me.
- I know it's my fault, that's what's killing me.
- That doesn't change anything. I don't need this.
- You don't care much about living, do you?
Not really.
I was like you at your age.
Ready to die at any time. I didn't care.
That's why young people make the best martyrs.
It's paradoxical, but living grows on you,
when you begin to subtract:
I've got 20 years left, 15, 10.
When you realize it's forthe last time...
I'm buying my last car.
This is my last trip to Genoa, Barcelona...
I won't live that long.
How do you know?
Overdoses are pretty frequent.
But you can nevertell.
Maybe you'll kick it and reach a ripe old age.
We can't decipherthe past, how can we know the future?
No one ever knows what'll happen to them.
Except me, now. I know.
- Are you scared? - Sure am.
I don't want to stop living. I loved life so much.
What was it you loved?
Everything.
Wine, books, music,
women. Above all, women.
Their smell, their mouths, the feel of their skin.
- Were there many of them? - Yes.
- Don't they begin to seem the same?
A bit, yes.
But I nevertired of them.
Still the great seducer?
No, not anymore.
With age, it's not the same thing.
Do you still enjoy wine?
- Unfortunately not. Not with my liver.
- The trips you dreamed of, did you take them?
- Nowadays, there are tourists everywhere.
- It's not the present you cling to.
It's your past life.
That life is already dead.
Perhaps.
Hello.
Gaëlle?
Speaking.
- This is Malcolm White. - Hi, Mr White.
- The New York offices had rather a strange request.
London, 10:30 a. m.
Seems the Montreal Archdiocese... you know, the Catholic authorities...
it seems they're sitting on a huge array of religious art.
From what I understood, they were talking about warehouses full of the stuff.
It's 5:30 in the morning here.
Oh, dear! Yes, of course.
I'm so terribly sorry.
I'll call you back, okay?
- I expected a musty antique dealer, not a ravishing young lady.
I warn you, I'm no specialist.
- At one time everyone here was Catholic.
Like in Spain or Ireland.
At a very precise moment... in 1966, in fact...
the churches suddenly emptied out, in a few months.
A very strange phenomenon that has yet to be explained.
So now we don't know what to do with this.
The authorities would like to find out
if it has any value.
Commercial value?
Yes.
- Do you have any 18th-century French chalices?
- The Americans snapped them up.
There are a few examples in museums.
I'm sure this has great value
for people here, the collective memory.
- But is there anything that we could sell?
On the world market?
Yes.
Honestly, I can't imagine it.
- In other words, this is all... absolutely worthless.
I'll show you out.
- Pius Xll sitting on his ass in his gilded Vatican,
while Primo Levi was taken to Auschwitz... That's not sad!
It's despicable! Hideous!
If what you say is true,
and history is a series of abominable crimes,
then someone has to exist who can forgive us.
That's my belief.
I envy you.
If at least I'd written.
You wrote nothing?
- Afew papers here and there, nothing serious.
- What are you doing? - What?
- What are you doing? - It bugs me.
What would you have written?
- The Gulag Archipelago, The Periodic Table.
Really, in that class?
- Never. - So?
At least I'd have left a mark.
We need to succeed, even on our own terms.
To be able to say we did our best.
It allows us to die at peace.
I'm a total failure.
At least you realize it.
So many professors are smug, unbearable.
I don't know your daughter, but Sébastien's not exactly a failure.
No thanks to me.
You don't know that.
We thought we'd pay a visit.
Everyone wonders how you are.
Not everyone, surely.
You'd be surprised.
- That last day in class no one seemed very moved.
We had no idea at the time.
- Exactly. Now that you're gone...
We see what we're missing.
I'm touched to hearthat. Sincerely.
We should be going.
- We have a lecture by Mr. Roby at 4:00.
Off you go.
- Good luck. - Thanks.
Yeah, good luck.
Don't give up.
I won't.
- Well I never... - Surprising.
For illiterates, they're sweet.
- It's not theirfault. No one taught them.
It's the same everywhere.
At this price we'll come anytime.
We'll see.
- I don't want it. - We agreed.
No, thanks.
- Do you want to split hers? - Okay.
- We're getting married next summer, at my parents' in France.
You'll see, the chapel's lovely.
- Louise and I married on a grey February day in a dismal suburb.
So we could sleep together without ourfamilies hassling us.
I want a wedding on the Loire.
- Six months later, I cheated on her.
- That was fast. - Indeed.
Thanks.
When I met Sébastien, I said:
With him it's forever, there'll be no one else.
I hope it lasts, foryour sake.
Because, you know, love...
No, no, no!
Not "love. "
Mom and Dad talked like that. "Love. "
I love you. I love you too much. I don't love you.
You can't build a life on pop-song philosophy.
Love Me Tender. Love, Love Me Not.
It's ridiculous.
My parents divorced when I was 3.
For several years,
Dad continued to come over for Sunday lunch.
Half an hour before he left, I'd vanish.
I'd be lying on the ground in front of his car
so he couldn't leave.
My kids won't go through that.
- So now my nocturnal pleasures are provided
by my giant-screen Toshiba at the foot of my bed.
- No more curled-up toes? - That's over.
I've seen enough ceilings. - Forever?
- I've closed the store, laid down my arms,
hung up my skates.
- Things are much quieter between us too.
Well, well.
- He's in Bologna all week and I'm in Rome.
There's the weekend, but...
- My wife falls asleep in bed with the kids.
Great, you can reread Tocqueville.
- That's what I did. 2,000 pages on bible paper.
- He's increasingly cultivated, and his prostate increasingly swollen.
Sorry, I still enjoy it a lot.
In the country there's an old cowboy I...
- Cowboy? You're with a cowboy now?
- Yes, there's an old cowboy I invite overto shake my bush.
To shake your bush!
Yes, but we had a fight.
I'll never understand men.
All my life I dated cads who thought only of escaping
after satisfying their base needs.
The other day, as a compliment, I said to my cowboy:
To think we can still have sexual flings at our age.
He was incensed.
He doesn't want to be a sex object, talks about his masculinity.
- We love that! - Invokes father hunger,
goes on about exploring his feminine side, his inner me.
It was unbearable.
The last thing I want is a limp-dicked sentimentalist.
I want to be screwed forcefully. That's all.
I'm sensitive and smart enough fortwo.
A rub-down?
Would he like a rub-down?
Does the Muslim need to bow towards Mecca?
- Does the Carmelite long forthe Holy Species?
- Is this yourfirst time here? - Yes.
- I don't know if you believe in random acts
of kindness,
but if you do, renderthis sick man happy.
Give him the mother of all rub-downs.
You will be repaid a hundredfold,
in this life or another. - Yes.
Am I in heaven already?
Are you my Valkyrie, my houri?
I am from Bulgaria.
Oh...
joy!
Come on!
Hello?
Nathalie didn't show.
It's bad. Yourfather's in withdrawal.
I called, no answer.
Know where Nathalie is?
No idea.
She's disappeared.
I warned you.
I may come back.
Before 11.
Okay.
I'm not supposed to do this.
- You were right. You said not to trust you.
Your dealer said that too.
Wake up. We've a contract. - What contract?
I buy dope, you look after Dad.
- What's with him? - He's waiting.
We're coming.
You honour a contract!
That's heavy, man.
- It's not heavy. We had a deal. I'm counting on you.
At the market... my dad...
Y'know, my dad...
- Want to trade dads? Me, I made my life.
I prefer my life to yours.
Perfect young man.
Perfect career.
Perfect fiancée.
I'm imperfect.
It's sad. It's very sad.
Where have you been?
I didn't know what to do.
- Get a spoon. - What?
A spoon.
Thirty.
Fill it to thirty.
I can't manage.
What is that?
Don't ask, we don't have time.
You have to help. I beg you. Give him this.
He needs it. Please, I'll explain later.
- What's in it? - Heroin.
I beg you.
- Shut the door, at least. - I'm going.
- Just this once. - It'll soon be over.
Better?
We sat on your pier.
He was never happier than at the lake.
So could we borrow the cottage?
Of course, I'll get the key.
Thank you.
What is it?
The keys to the cottage.
What for?
I'm letting Sébastien use it.
He wants to take Rémy.
Without asking me?
I'm truly sorry.
I'm the one who decorated it.
That's true.
The hours at Ikea, don't they count?
Orthe curtains I sewed?
You lend our house to strangers without asking!
Rémy's not a stranger.
- That's why Nicole divorced Tom Cruise!
He'd lend their Colorado home to anybody.
- I'm lending my house to my friend Rémy,
and you shut up.
- If that's how it is, I won't stay another second.
I'm taking the girls and moving out.
I'm sorry. Forget it, we'll manage.
- No way. Use it wheneveryou like.
Don't worry. It's always this way. That's life.
Thanks.
No news from Sylvaine?
- No, I even called the boat's owner in Chile.
I hope she's okay.
- She is, it's just the Net uplink. The Pacific's big.
Adieu.
Embrace the mystery.
Embrace the mystery and you'll be saved.
Say you love him.
Tell him,
and touch him.
Touch him!
- What's this? Checking out without authorization?
Don't try bringing him back when he gets worse!
Savage!
- Would you really have beaten her up?
I dunno.
I never could've beat a woman.
Too bad; some did deserve it.
Don't you start again.
Some women need a firm hand.
For instance, you, Sister... - Ah!
Get him out of here, for God's sake! Get rid of him!
What are you waiting for?! What, are you paid by the hour?
Drink this one.
Right now?
Here. Methadone's serious.
Now I trust you.
Drink one a day.
Only one. No more, no less.
Come back on Monday.
If you screw up, you're out of the program.
I still can't come to terms with it.
You know you have to.
I can't accept it.
That's how it is. It's the law.
The very instant you shut your eyes, millions more will also die.
- But I won't be here anymore. Me.
I'll be gone for good.
If at least I'd learned something.
I feel as helpless as the day I was born.
I haven't found a meaning. It's...
I have to search.
I have to keep searching...
We've been everything.
Separatists, supporters of independantists, sovereignists,
"sovereignty-associationists. "
At first we were existentialists.
We read Sartre and Camus.
- Then Fanon, we became anti-colonialists.
We read Marcuse and became Marxists.
Marxist-Leninists.
- Trotskyists. - Maoists.
After Solzhenitsyn we changed.
We were structuralists.
Situationists.
Feminists.
Deconstructionists.
- Is there an "ism" we haven't worshipped?
Cretinism.
God, no. Think of Guo Jing.
Who was Guo Jing?
- An archeologist with a skirt slit to the crotch.
Even you remember.
- In the '70s, China opens up to the West.
She comes on a cultural exchange.
The university sends its trusty radical, me...
I enterthe dining room of her hotel.
I spot her, and die.
Beauty that could melt Emperor Qin's 7,000 terra-cotta warriors.
I ordertea, we make small talk.
I can see us doing the Pekinese lotus.
The Szechuan dragon.
- To make myself appear interesting,
I dive in: "Your country has achieved so much.
We're so envious.
Your Cultural Revolution is wonderful!"
Her lovely black eyes glaze over.
I'm mortified to realize that she's thinking,
"He's either a CIA agent
orthe worst cretin in the West. "
The latter hypothesis wins out.
So much forthe lotus and dragon.
- Fortwo years she'd cleaned pigsties on a re-education farm.
Father murdered, mother committed suicide.
And some dumb French-Canadian
who's seen the films of Jean-Luc Godard
and read Philippe Sollers
says that the Chinese Cultural Revolution
is wonderful!
Cretinism doesn't sink any lower.
Ta-da! Voluntary simplicity.
Scrambled eggs with Ossetra caviar and fresh truffles.
From Tuscany.
- And to stay in Italy, Castello Banfi Excelsus,
a modest vintage.
Why were we so dumb?
- Are we to infer congenital stupidity? - Not at all.
Intelligence isn't an individual trait.
It's collective, national, intermittent.
Oh, a new theory!
- Athens, 416 BC. Euripides premieres his Electra.
Two rivals attend, Sophocles and Aristophanes.
And two friends, Socrates and Plato.
Intelligence was there.
I can top that.
Firenze, 1504, Palazzo Vecchio, on facing walls, two painters:
Leonardo da Vinci
and Michelangelo.
An apprentice: Raffaello. A manager: Niccolò Machiavelli.
Philadelphia, USA, 1776-1787.
Declaration of Independence
and the Constitution.
- "When in the course of human events. "
Adams, Franklin, Jefferson,
Washington, Hamilton and Madison.
No other country has been so blessed.
- I was born in Chicoutimi, Canada, in 1950.
It's a miracle you're not dumber.
- In 1950, everyone was dumb, in Athens and Chicoutimi.
- In Italy you'd have supported the Red Brigades.
Now it's Berlusconi.
Philadelphia voted George Bush.
You see, you're not that dumb.
- Intelligence has disappeared, and it can take eons to come back.
- From Tacitus to Dante was what, 11 centuries?
- The Arabs kept intelligence alive. - True.
You're not hungry?
It won't go down.
- And you? - No, thanks.
- I neverthought I'd see the day you'd turn down fresh truffles.
Alas, that day is here.
A sip of wine?
- Drink to my health and tell me how good it is.
- I'd like to bow out just like Félix Faure.
Why am I not surprised?
I can dream.
Who was he? Why?
Oh blessed Félix Faure,
the President of the French Republic.
His heart stopped beating while his mistress,
the admirable Madame Steinheil, kneeling before him,
bestowed on him the most glorious blowjob of all time.
My god!
His enemies gloated:
"She seized him, the would-be Caesar, and he had a seizure!"
- Henceforth Mme Steinheil was known as the kiss of death.
I should be so lucky!
- It's not ourfault if your heart is unstoppable.
I'd like to remind you that at a certain time,
I and several others here blew you most heartily,
with enough force to capsize a schooner.
- What do you know about blowing buoys?
- Well, sir, our efforts earned gushing praise.
Heavens, that's hard to swallow.
I'm beat.
Go to bed.
Aren't you coming?
Not tonight.
- The Middle Ages, the manuscripts...
The barbarians, everywhere, tomorrow...
Their prince approaches.
- Hello. - Hello...
Think you're funny?
I'm scared.
- We'll do what you want. It's your decision.
Know what I want foryou?
To have as fine a son as you.
Heard from Sylvaine?
No.
Tell her I thought of her.
I love you.
- Not so long ago I'd have jumped you without asking.
I might have let you.
I suspected as much.
Bye.
I wasn't here. You didn't see me. - Of course.
This just came in.
- On a ship, you call it the evil eye...
Act of God.
Striking a growler... an iceberg...
at night, or a fire from an oil leak...
If that happens, you know you may not make it back.
It's been too long since I've seen you.
My daddy, my papuschka,
I'll have missed you all my life.
Tell yourself I'm a happy woman, I've found my place.
I don't know how you did it, but...
you managed to pass on your lust for life.
You and Mom raised incredibly strong children.
It's a miracle really.
You know...
the first man in a woman's life... is herfather.
You'll always be with me.
- Friends, sharing this modest life with you has been a delight.
I take your smiles with me.
Oh, Rémy, Rémy.
Rémy.
The man of my life.
My guardian angel.
It's a privilege to know you.
The privilege was all mine, Miss.
- The paramedics aren't here yet, they've been detained.
Let's go for a walk on the beach.
Mom doesn't want to live here.
I don't need to sell it.
You can move in for now. - Okay.
IF THIS BE A MAN
HISTORYAND UTOPIA
Will you never be back?
- Since my mother died, I have no one here.
Except foryou two.
Why don't you come for Christmas? - Yes. Come spend two weeks with us.
All right.
- Listen, it depends somewhat on my daughter, but why not.
We have to go now.
Goodbye, Sébastien.
Take care of yourself. - Ciao.
- You too. - Have a good trip.
- Call us. - Okay.
- Take care of yourself. - Thank you.
Here you go.
Thank you.
I love you.
Beaucoup de mes amis sont venus des nuages
Avec soleil et piule comme simples bagages
Ils ont falt la saison des amitlés sincères
La plus belle saison des quatre de la Terre
ils ont cette douceur des pius beaux paysages
Et la fidélité des olseaux de passage
Dans leurs coeurs est gravée une infinle tendresse
Mais parfois dans leurs yeux se gilsse la tristesse
Alors ils viennent se chauffer chez moi
Et toi aussi tu viendras
Tu pourras repartir au fin fond des nuages
Et de nouveau sourire à bien d'autres visages
Donner autour de toi un peu de ta tendresse
Lorsqu'un autre voudra te cacher sa tristesse
Comme I'on ne sait pas ce que la vie nous donne
il se peut qu'à mon tour je ne sois plus personne
S'il me reste un ami qui vraiment me comprenne
J'oublierais à la fois mes larmes et mes peines
Alors peut-être je viendrai chez toi
Chauffer mon coeur à ton bois
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