Go ahead.
Dear Mr De,
On this memorable occasion
of the 100th anniversary of our company,
we wish to express our pride
at belonging to this great family.
For that is exactly our feeling.
That we are not anonymous employees,
but the members of the same family,
prompted by the same ideal.
We are proud and happy,
that this ideal of work your grandfather,
and your father,
yourself and your son,
passed on to us
is very alive even today, when so many values are lost.
Go on!
Considering the importance
of our industry...
What's the matter? Anything wrong?
No, I'm fine. I'm coming.
CHARLES - DEAD OR ALIVE
A small historical epic
Excuse me.
Mr De.
We'd like to interview you.
Is there somewhere quiet we can go?
There's my office...but I haven't got much to say.
You should interview my son.
Later, but right now we'd like to talk to you.
- If you really want to. - Thanks.
Should I look at the camera?
No, at me. We'll just have a chat.
Ready.
Okay, let's go.
- Speed. - Action.
If I understand correctly, sir,
You're the third De,
to manage this company,
after your grandfather and your father.
That's right.
Your son's going to succeed you,
as the fourth generation.
Constancy runs in the family.
Tell me, how did it all start?
My grandfather came from the Jura
with his toolbox,
and started a small workshop,
where he did everything himself, then my father took over
and he gave it its present importance.
It's remained the same ever since?
Yes, more or less.
You didn't want to expand it?
Well, as you know, it's been a small family business...
I wanted to enlarge it.
You thought you could control it better this way?
In a way, yes.
You preferred that it keep its personality,
that your family, of course
didn't become a huge anonymous company.
Yes, that's right.
What seems to be more important to your family,
your vocation as watchmakers or as businessmen?
It depends.
My grandfather was a watchmaker,
My father was both,
and my son is just a businessman.
And you? You didn't mention yourself?
Oh, me? Let's say
I make a living, like anybody else.
You'd rather have done something else?
No, I don't think so.
But life isn't that simple.
Yes, of course.
What you are then if you're neither..
a watchmaker or a businessman?
I told you.
I'm a man making an honest living.
If it interests you, I'll tell you that
I have a villa, family, a dog,
all well insured, two cars, a mountain chalet
with a Swiss flag in the garden.
No, there's no flag, but it's as if there were one.
Cut.
I'm afraid we're digressing a little.
So it seems.
We'll break for a few minutes.
Really, our subject is,
"Family Spirit of Enterprise"
Oh, that's good.
I don't understand you.
We lose a whole working day,
We've got a TV interview lined up,
it's our chance to get free publicity,
and you talk rubbish.
Sometimes I wonder what's going on with you.
If they screen this,
we're going to look pretty dumb.
I'll call the guy and tell him to drop the interview.
I already did.
I asked him as soon as we'd finished.
You did? What did he say? Is it all right?
Of course.
So it was just a waste of time.
There was so much to talk about.
We've got problems, right?
- Possibly. - Oh, yes.
It's as if you don't care
about our business.
You can always retire, you know.
You're not on top of it anymore.
Methods have changed since your father.
Everything changes.
You have to adapt.
You talk like a corrupt politician!
Stop going on at each other.
Sit down and eat.
When your daughter Marianne
and her student friends
scream day and night about "Youth Power",
you listen. You're interested.
So give me the same right in our business.
At least I know something about it, but her...
All you want to do is make money.
And you do.
We could make a lot more if you weren't so wary
about taking initiatives or some risks.
My grandfather was, above all, a watchmaker.
My father a mixture of both.
My son is just a businessman.
You can drown in a bath.
It's easy...easy.
You'd rather have done something else?
I'm a notary and a grocer.
I'm a man making an honest living.
That's it. When I go to the movies
I give 13% of my ticket price
to the poor.
They're entitled to it.
I'm a zombie.
Lost in the changing world.
My body is split in two lengthwise.
On the left side the heart withers and rots
while on the right side I make an honest living.
Believe me.
Where the hell are those papers?
Not here...
Maybe I left them at the factory
the other day.
I put them on his desk during the interview.
Well, the so-called interview.
Get me his number, will you?
What's his name?
It's...his name is...
Wait, I got it.
Hi Dad.
Marianne!
Need any money?
I don't come to see you just for that.
No, but I'm sure you have today.
Did I pay your rent this month?
Yes, but it's something else.
Thanks. May the day come when a student
doesn't have to beg anymore.
Good.
I've got a rich father.
A father who sells watch springs.
And his daughter will probably fail
her classics exam
while Dad goes on selling watch springs.
Order reigns!
Yes, good morning.
Your papers were here,
we mailed them to you, you'll get them.
Hope there's no hard feelings
about the interview the other day.
It must have been like interviewing a wall.
Not much fun.
I've been thinking about it.
I'm sorry for how I came off...
especially since there were things I wanted to say.
That's fine.
You can still talk about it.
Do you know the TV show...
"The Way People Are"?
Not much.
I watched it once.
A guy was talking about his life on the railroad.
It wasn't bad. But the title's wrong.
People are never that "Way".
He wants me to be on the next program.
Somebody else cancelled.
- You? - Yes.
Imagine me unburdening myself on TV.
Maybe you'll find something interesting to say.
Nothing obliges me to go on with it.
Tell them our family history.
From great-grandfather to us.
It could be amusing. And instructive.
Mr De, why do you wish to speak?
Because the words keep rotting in my throat.
And finally upset my stomach.
Mr De, why don't you speak up?
Because everything's fine.
I don't look oppressed.
I'm not a minority, a labourer
who's also some immigrant.
I can play the game.
I don't even need these glasses.
Ready? Should I wait?
Go ahead, I'll come by a bit later.
The Nestor contracts...
must be ready today.
If I'm late,
ask Bernard to handle them.
He's in the army.
You forgot your glasses.
Don't need them.
Are you kidding?
I can even read those small letters
on the calendar over there.
"Enjoy life fully, smoke Tops,
a sweet yet virile flavour,
thanks to it's tri-active charcoal filter,
in King size or Super king size."
Then why were you wearing glasses?
So I could see less clearly.
That's why they sold them to me.
All part of the conspiracy.
All right. I'll see you later.
Ready, sir. We're all set.
- Ready. - Good.
You'll be comfortable right there.
Thanks.
- This is ready. - All right.
"We have a change of guest today..."
My grandfather died of grief.
In this very house.
He was an old anarchist from the Jura.
He worked with people...
like James Guilaume and Adhemar Schwitzauebel.
He knew Kropotkin,
Bakunin and Malatesta.
When the "International" of St-Imier was dissolved,
he couldn't stand it and left for Geneva.
He called his two sons James and Adhemar.
Only the names remain.
I liked my father, Adhemar,
down deep. Athough we didn't have a lot in common.
But I liked his bluntness.
His self-assurance, his calm.
You had the impression that he was never wrong.
Besides, he never WAS wrong,
if you accepted his definition of the world.
But you couldn't?
I never managed to get inside his world.
But I imagine he made you enter it,
or at least tried.
Yes, sir. He'd worked hard all his life,
for his business.
It was difficult to begin with.
He'd gained his independence, as he'd say,
and security for his family,
which was most sacred to him.
Being his only son,
it was unthinkable for him that I'd give up all that.
Put yourself in his position.
He couldn't imagine that I'd want something else.
He blamed it on some youthful dream.
Because, at that time,
my ideas were very hazy.
I was 18, not really a bright student.
So I automatically ended up at my father's factory.
Against your will?
Not exactly.
I suddenly had the feeling of living.
Of doing "something".
I was 20 when the war started.
Right then,
I practically succeeded him.
I was exempted from military service.
My health wasn't too good.
The others were never around, and my father
was on permanent mobilisation.
So I didn't have much of a choice.
But what did you want to do, at 20?
Well, I knew what I didn't want to do.
But it was impossible
under the circumstances
to force a negative will on my father.
I didn't have any particular vocation.
I only knew...
that I was suffocating in that place.
The relationships between me and everyone else...
seemed fake, ruled by money, conformity,
and fixed ideas.
By a sense of hierarchy and authority.
In other words, I was bored stiff.
But it seemed impossible,
isolated as I was, for me to leave.
Whether I liked it or not, I accepted the situation.
Later on, I began to think,
that, compared to others,
my position was one of strength
that would have allowed me, in the existing framework,
to get things moving a little.
After the war,
I thought that everything would change.
It was a wonderful time.
People thought that..
nothing would be the same as before.
But for my father, the most important thing,
was to put everything back the way it used to be.
There had been a war
which ended the same as any natural cataclysm.
He belonged to that kind of people,
for whom nothing ever changes.
The world reamins as it is, forever.
God above...the world below...
within it, Switzerland, just and eternal,
and in Switzerland, the house of De...
his, and his sons' after him.
Shortly after the war he got sick.
He'd caught a cold on the front.
A few months later he died.
I was caught in the trap.
There was the family, my mother,
I was already married...
and had a son.
The business was well organised
and ran smoothly.
We're ready to record.
Action.
You said that you were hoping "to get things moving".
What did you mean by that?
Well, this is what happened.
The years went by,
and I got better acquainted with the intracacies of my work.
But...
I didn't like the part I was playing.
That's why I tried, for example,
To change the labour relations of the people working for me.
To interest them more in the business.
But I got the impression that nobody really wanted this.
Some didn't want the responsbility.
and the know-it-alls wondered
if there was some kind of catch.
Some publicity. This is terrible.
He's making himself look stupid. And us.
Oh, please...
It was all an illusion anyway.
Everything I'd instinctively shunned in my youth,
now appeared to me in its true colours.
I was stuck in a structure
which I didn't want to be a part of.
Gradually, I freed myself from it all...
by trying to find something outside of my work.
But everything I touched withered between my fingers.
Whatever I thought of,
just remained a thought, nothing more.
It felt like I had no part
in anything that was happening.
Everything I'd learned
was no use at all
and finally turned against me.
I had my place in the sun.
On Sundays I'd drive the highways.
It was a miracle that I didn't end up stamp-collecting.
I just kept waiting for something to happen
out of the blue...
and dreaming of a better world.
And then, slowly, everything fell apart,
inside me and...
around me.
Like some kind of underground erosion.
I knew nothing would happen,
that there's a point of no return,
where it becomes difficult to...
to even believe in your own existence.
Like being in a cottonwool bath.
Without any anxiety,
without any hope,
bundled up in comfort...
and security.
Do you have a room?
- A single? - Yes.
- One night? - Yes.
Fill out the card, please. GINO COMING
Gino!
- Gino! - Coming.
- Show Mr SchwartZ number 32. - Be there in a minute.
Any luggage?
Come in.
Can I make the bed?
- It's almost noon. - Don't worry about it.
If you stay past noon...
you'll have to pay for another day.
- I'm staying. - Okay.
These are Portuguese sardines, in oil.
Come in.
Do you want me to make up the room?
- Are you going out? - No, but go ahead.
If you stay past noon -
I know.
Are you staying?
Yes. I don't know.
It depends.
Maybe a few days.
We interrupt this program of Eastern Music for a service bulletin.
The Geneva police have issued...
notification of the disappearance
of Mr Charles De,
De, accent on the e.
Born in 1919. A manufacturer.
Mr De has not been seen for the last three days
and his family has no news of his whereabouts.
When he disappared Mr De was believed
to be dressed in a dark grey suit,
a beige raincoat and a bow tie.
Mr De has been in a nervous state,
and according to his family,
is not in his normal frame of mind.
Please communicate all information
to the Geneva Police HQ, phone number 22.22.22
The hourly news...
will follow in a few moments.
No wonder people
go crazy, the way life is.
Have you got a match?
This is the news.
More demonstrations have broken out
from the members of the youth' organisation 'Self Defence',
blocking the highway exits at Geneva and Zurich.
Motorists have been targeted
and confronted.
Before police could intervene,
all traffic had been completely jammed,
causing fights to break out between irate drivers
and the demonstrators.
Mr Thierry Apfelbaum,
President of the Drivers Association
has laid a complaint
to police authorities
of the affected districts.
That guy's checking you out.
Think so?
- No, he's just looking into space. - Hardly.
You like my wife?
Sorry, what was that?
You like my wife?
Why do you ask?
Are you gonna answer?
Your wife is very charming.
See?
Are you a teacher?
No. Do I look like a teacher?
You remind me of my old teacher.
We used to call him Felix the Cat.
The old stickler.
But you don't look much like a cat.
Hardly logical.
Anyway, if you're not a teacher
you could still be one.
How's that?
He's a businessman.
Does it show?
I'd say that everyone's in commerce, more or less.
No, he's got a private income.
The world's full of them nowadays.
But it's a pretty small income.
'Cause he's dressed like a bum.
I hadn't thought about that.
But you're almost right.
You have a car?
Yes, why do you want to know?
It's not far from here.
Ours is in the garage,
and we live way out.
- You need a ride? - That's about it.
It'd be nice if you could.
No problem about me driving?
No, not at all.
You got no lighter.
Damn thing drives like a wheelbarrow.
Really?
You obviously don't look after it.
Don't you like cars?
I don't think about it.
Not interested, I guess.
You're not mad about me saying you looked like a bum?
No. But I'm not currently not working.
And you, what do you do?
I'm a painter.
I make signs.
And posters. Things like that.
I work for myself.
Business good?
Fair.
It depends on the economic situation.
You have your own business?
Better than punching a factory clock.
Can't say you're wrong, there.
Come on.
You live around here?
Over there, behind those trees.
What are we stopping for?
Paul and I always stop here.
It's sort of a ritual.
We stop and look at the view.
Why here?
There's nothing special about it.
There is. It's our favourite spot.
Do you like living in the country?
The suburbs, especially.
And the satellite towns, in the evening.
And the city? Don't you like Geneva?
No, it's full of American spies.
And their kids.
And banks.
I like the city if it's raining or snowing.
It's awful in the summer.
Dumb tourists.
Taking pictures in the park.
Stamping all over the grass and tulips.
The fountain shooting up from the lake like a postcard.
I had a dream a while ago.
I dreamed that the waterfront
had turned into a coaling port.
With black barges
and freighters.
Instead of the park
there were ironworks
huge ones, stretching right up
all the way to Colony Hill.
You could hear it rumbling at night.
With red flames reflected on the lake.
Adeline always has beautiful dreams.
Well, let's go.
Cilette's probably waiting for us.
Why don't you like cars?
- Lots of reasons. - Like?
Well...firstly...
It's uncomfortable driving.
It squashes your stomach.
Bad for your digestion and heart.
Secondly, there's the traffic.
The road has become a stage for idiots.
Accidents are pitiful tragedies.
And the risk of driving
is the only adventure we have left.
Thirdly,
driving...
is a system of accumulation,
without any exchange
except for loudmouths abusing you,
and people never come together.
It's a system of social dispersal:
everyone in his own little box.
And finally, it's a means
for the oil companies and sheet-iron manufacturers
to lay down their laws and destroy towns,
spend fortunes on highways, cops, pollution,
and make people believe
that that's all they want.
You really said something there.
See, he was a teacher after all.
Well.
I'll fix that for you.
- What are you doing? - You'll see.
Is this your car key?
- Here, have it back. - Thank you.
Is this your daughter?
She's too old for that.
She's the neighbour's. She comes here,
when her mother goes out.
Finished your homework, Cilette?
Yes, I know my poem off by heart.
You learned a poem? That's good.
Can you recite it to us? What's it called?
"In Switzerland".
Good title so far. Go ahead.
It's the maimed body.
Switzerland is a desert,
where each day words like water run to waste.
A secret well keeps them,
their tomb of oblivion.
He who utters them is defeated.
He is buried, surely and swiftly.
Then silence falls on this prosperous country.
I'll take you home.
My car should be ready by now.
Yours took a nosedive
into the gravel pit.
Yes, it was very amusing.
Where do you live?
I'm staying at a hotel.
Oh? You're not from around here?
Yes, but I'm staying in a hotel.
Actually, I don't feel like going back.
And I don't feel like going out.
We've got a spare room if you want to stay the night.
Besides, you can't pay for your hotel room.
It's not that.
But I left without paying.
My razor's still there.
It'll cost you less
to replace a razor.
Yeah, you could look at it like that.
Except they'll sue you.
No problem.
I gave a false name.
A false name?
Been up to something, huh?
No, nothing like that.
I just want some time away for myself.
That's all.
You left some woman there?
No, you're wrong. I'll explain it.
There's nothing wrong about that.
Here you are.
I'll get you some sheets.
- Morning. - Good morning.
Morning. Sleep well?
- Not bad. It was pleasant. - Sit down.
Want some coffee? - Sure, thanks.
You know, if you have some problem,
and you've got nowhere to sleep,
that room upstairs is empty.
So don't worry about it.
You're not the first one to drift here.
She's a judge's daughter.
That's very nice of you.
It would be convenient for me,
just for the time being.
I wouldn't bother you for long.
And I've got some money.
I can cook, too.
Under the circumstances...
it could work out well.
You can't paint, by any chance?
No, I can't. Maybe simple things.
Are you looking for cheap labour?
No, he's right.
If I can help out somehow...
I know where to find dandelions, for instance.
You'd have trouble finding any
...this time of year - I could try.
Careful with that red.
The shepherds' people
roam free on their land,
dangers have steeled them,
for peace and for war.
Braised chicken Pouilly.
Chicken with mustard.
Chicken fricassee.
And chicken with ham.
Chicken with stewed prunes.
And strong and righteous chicken.
Paul.
Meet my daughter, Marianne, the Republican.
She's studying classics.
Glad to meet you.
Paul...Paul, painter.
You see, I live here.
Nice. Homey.
- He's not too much trouble? - No, not at all.
We're used to him now.
He's a good cook.
I didn't know that.
You've changed.
Only imbeciles never change.
Are you part of that group
that wants to blow up everything?
You put it so well.
You are a member of that thing...
which calls itself 'Self-Defence'?
Yes.
- Funny kind of name. - Why?
Because you're the ones that attack.
People at our age,
whether or not they accept or refuse the world the way it is,
are attacked from all sides,
whether they enter it or not.
Who's attacking you, then?
Everything attacks us.
Violence against us is permanent.
As it is against you.
What do you mean?
Have you ever stopped
in front of a newspaper stand?
Have a look at the magazine covers.
The fake happiness they suggest
constantly gnaws at us.
We have to defend ourselves.
Marianne...
Paul is a good guy
not stupid, but still...
someone with an immoderate liking for mediocrity.
Maybe you could help me
take him away from that.
I don't see what I can do.
Sometimes I also think
he's ignorant out of laziness.
But he seems to be proud of it.
These cases aren't hopeless.
There's a technique that might pay off.
An easy daily exercise.
I've always hated school.
It's not difficult, just amusing.
I'll give you little notes,
for you to stick on the wall,
with a saying, proverb, or quote.
One for each day.
You have to learn it off by heart.
By heart?
Yes, but they're very short.
You have to check up on him.
All right. Then what?
That's all. Once you've learned them,
they may work into your little brain,
and you might catch on.
And after that I'll be intelligent. That sounds easy.
Let's say you might get
a few thoughts in your skull.
Rattling in your brain.
When you shake your head they'll go ding-ding, ding-ding.
You're all so good to me.
Monday: Be realistic.
Ask the impossible.
Anonymous.
Tuesday:
There are no foolish people.
Only foolish trades.
Proverb.
Here it is again, the pretty month of May,
Everything's beautiful,
joyful and gay.
Flowers are blooming everywhere...
Hello. Shall we go to my car?
No. Let's stay here.
I usually handle business in the car. I'll stay here.
Fine. What's the trouble?
I think, in your line of work
you call it a shadowing job.
Always the same story. A woman?
No, not that. I just want information.
I want to know where my father is.
Here's a photo of my sister.
Who's missing?
Your father or your sister?
We think my sister knows
where my father is.
But she's not saying anything.
- Got it. I trail your sister. - That's it.
If she goes to Plan-les-Ouates, then that's where he's hiding.
Someone saw him there, in a cafe.
We've got to find him, it's important.
You want me to go there
and enter the house under any pretext, correct?
Right. If you see him, that's great.
But don't let him suspect anything.
Don't worry, this is a breeze.
Cases with women are much more delicate.
Believe me.
You get many of those?
Okay, I've got to go.
Call me if you find out anything.
- No, I'll see you personally. - Fine. Goodbye then.
Did you pay your workmen well?
Not so well...
Why?
Because that's how it goes.
- Ever have any trouble with them? - No.
If I had a real assistant, business would be better.
But it's too complicated.
Do you know what you want from life?
What?
Do you know what you want?
Do I know what I want?
Yes, do you know your desire?
Well... yes of course.
And what might that be?
I make a living, do what I like...
I'm free.
I work for myself and people leave me in peace.
You don't know what you want.
And what would YOU say I want?
Maybe you don't want anything.
Paul...
Are you unhappy?
No, I'm not unhappy.
Are you sure? Think about it.
No, I'm not unhappy.
Are you unhappy?
I'm okay.
The hope is just slowly dwindling away.
Do you like Adeline?
Adeline? She's very sympathetic.
Do you like her?
- Yes... but... - We're not married.
- But you're as good as married. - In a way.
She likes you.
Really?
Yes, it's true.
- She's beautiful, huh? - Yes.
I knew you liked her.
What's your proverb for today?
"Tuesday: We can't all be orphans,
worse luck".
Jules Renard.
And yesterday's? I forgot to ask.
Yesterday?
"Monday:
It's only by those who have no hope,
that hope can be restored to us".
Walter Benjamin.
Did you hurt yourself? Are you okay?
Okay.
"Saturday:
Life likes for us to be conscious of it".
Rene Char.
"Sunday:
If you want peace,
prepare Civil War".
Surrealist Manifesto.
I thought of you when I was washing.
About your situation.
It isn't normal.
It's more normal than it used to be.
It can't be for your wife.
You never tell us about her.
- Don't you miss her? - No.
You disappear into thin air
just like that.
You had a job, money, relationships
and all of a sudden: gone!
It doesn't seem to affect you much.
- Do you want me to go back? - No, not at all.
I mean you can't stay
holed up all by yourself.
Afraid I might crack up?
That's your business.
But we could do more for you.
Me, I could do something.
If that's the way you want it.
You've done a lot for me.
Thanks to you, I'm living in luxury:
I think, I read.
A profitable failure is much more difficult
than a profitable success.
That's what you're looking for?
I don't have much choice.
You are what you do.
So, in that case,
the only thing I can do
is to neatly undo myself
to conform with the definition.
One of these days,
I'll pack up and hide away.
Carlo!
What are you doing?
You were going to help me this morning.
It's winter, I'm hibernating.
It's just a hangover.
Yugoslav scientists have discovered
that squirrels who usually pass the winter
eating the nuts they've gathered in the summer,
could easily hibernate artificially
and that their mental faculties
actually increased.
You should try it.
You're getting on my nerves.
One of these days I'll throw you out.
We've got work to do.
I'm a drifter...I'm at home anywhere.
And nowhere.
So I'm at home here.
I'll talk to you when you're sober.
Paul, you haven't told me
your proverb for today.
Stuff the proverb.
You promised.
Friday: The freedom of others
extends mine to infinity. Bakunin.
Wednesday: In May do as you like.
Vernacular proverb.
In May, do as you like.
It is of course a little embarrassing
because of your family's painful circumstances.
But, as your legal counsel,
it's my opinion
that your father
isn't quite up to the task
of managing your business.
I've always held that
not getting a maximum return
is in a way a breach
of property law.
Because property entails
a certain amount of duties,
the first of which is to valourise it
in the general interest. You follow me?
Yes, of course.
Starting from this basic concept,
I think that it would be advisable
for you to have a freer hand at the factory.
But, as you say, the first thing we must do
is find your father.
We agree that his absence has created a difficult situation.
I think we'll find him pretty soon.
Then we'll know how to handle it.
Dr Flickman will look after him
in his own clinic.
Excellent idea.
Your father's case is perfect for his specialty.
Yes, but this is the family's problem.
Yours, which is more urgent,
is to find a way to continue the business.
It's at a standstill because we need his signature.
A lot of decisions can't be made.
We have to find a solution before we lose everything.
It's going to go to the dogs if you don't reorganise it.
We've got to keep going.
Yes, but remember.
Within the limits of the law.
Carlo!
What happened?
Cut myself
with that stupid cutting machine.
My god! Is the car here?
Yes. You've got to drive me to the doctor.
Let's go.
God, that hurts!
Do you know a doctor here?
Yes, at Saconnex d'Arve.
Hurry up, I'm bleeding like a stuck pig.
I'm already getting dizzy.
How long will you be laid up with your hand?
At least a month.
Have you got insurance?
No.
This is going to leave me flat broke.
It won't stop the bills though.
If you could at least use your hands.
I could try to find some money.
You said your bank account was frozen.
There might be another way.
There's a safe in my office
with some money in it.
Marianne could get the key.
You'd have to go at night?
Yes, of course.
Without even turning on the light?
No.
Is there a night watchman?
Yes, he does regular rounds.
Smells like cabbage.
There's a letter on the table.
What is it?
It's from Carlo.
There's money in it.
At least 2,000 francs.
There's a note, too.
"I've made some stew.
Leeks with bacon and potatoes
Turn it down at 12:30,
simmer for an hour.
Bon appetit. Thanks for everything.
I'm going away, Carlo.
He's gone?
Looks like it.
But where?
How would I know?
Maybe not that far.
He was a bit anxious with us, especially with me...
but he doesn't really want to leave.
Coming home?
Come on.
Leave me alone.
Fine, suit yourself.
If he can't make it out by himself
I'll throw him out.
Who asked you?
Just watch your shop.
Come on, let's go.
We're all at odds with each other.
You say "Let's go" and then you sit down,
I say "I'm staying" and get up to leave.
We're all mixed up.
Why do I listen to you anyway?
A petit-bourgeois playing traunt.
You're as holed-in as all the others.
What'll you look like when you're 50,
in the middle of all your paint.
You pay for that.
I'm as innocent as a newborn piglet.
Paul, you've forgotten
to recite your proverb for the day.
Thursday: The misfortune of one...
also makes the other unhappy. Proverb.
Don't worry, Carlo, it'll be all right.
What? What'll be all right?
Everything works out in the end.
Your poor sap, nothing turns out all right
when you can't see the present
with the eyes of the future.
Otherwise you're wallowing in shit.
Nothing you can do will be worth it
if you can't get this through your head.
You've got to start from an absolute demand
even if it seems very distant
and tell yourself "I'm staking everything on that,
and consequently
claiming all that's possible".
Don't try to stick together all the loose ends,
to cope with the sordid present,
the same as any centre-left politician.
Sounds all well and good.
But I'm not responsible for everything.
Yes, there are worse than you.
Tell me, Carlo, you know so much...
Cilette was doing her homework
and she asked me something.
I wasn't sure of the answer.
She asked me
if Bern was a rich or poor canton.
It's a rich one.
There may be a catch.
In Berne, you have public servants and peasants
who aren't usually rich people.
Peasants have plenty of cash.
They're all in debt.
You can be in debt and still rich.
They get government subsidies.
Because they vote for the right people.
So it's a rich one.
I went there on a school trip once,
to visit historical places
like the Federal Palace and the Barengraben.
I didn't see a single beggar.
Then it's rich.
I'm going to bed.
- Goodnight. - 'night.
Goodnight, Carlo.
I won.
Carlo is always on his guard.
Really?
You losing your powers of seduction.
No...he's just a little nervous.
I'm tired of sleeping in this sweater.
Wait.
He's got guts, anyway.
Just dropping everything like that.
Do you really think Bern is rich?
Saturday:
Forget everything you have learned.
Start dreaming.
Anonymous.
- Miss! - Yes?
Want a ride?
Get lost, jerk.
Don't you ever get out of your car?
Not if I can help it. I saw your father.
- So he lives in Plan-les-Ouates? - Yes, up ahead a bit.
Did you talk with him?
A little. He doesn't talk much.
You don't think he's on to you?
I wore workman's clothes.
Checked the electrical outlets.
How is he?
Not too good, as far as I could tell.
I see.
He was sprawled on a bunk.
He mumbled something.
Anyway, he didn't look so hot.
Is it that bad?
Well, he's not dead, he was reading.
One more thing.
What?
He lives with a guy...
and a young woman.
So? What about it?
I said: with a guy and a young woman.
You want me to draw you a picture?
It looks like they're a threesome.
No, that's impossible.
I've got a nose for that sort of thing.
Believe me.
Here's the address.
Is that all you want?
Yes, thank you.
Now we're done?
You want to pay cash?
No, send me a bill, but make it discreet.
No problem.
I'd have preferred cash, but too bad.
- Okay. Goodbye. - Goodbye.
Prosperity!
Prosperity for everyone, said the executioner.
Everything's prosperous everywhere.
This situation of unhappiness is prosperous.
Henri Michaux.
Let's not lose our heads.
In this kind of operation
organisation is paramount. To summarize:
Corn, potatoes,
sweetbread, saddle of hare...
on the table...
Quiet -
The news, by Georges Farot.
Here's what all Swiss women have been waiting for,
today's vote on women's suffrage.
The result comes as a surprise.
In contrast to many predictions
the Swiss electorate
has granted women voting rights,
by 438,287 affirmative
against 424,565 opposed.
Who's going to help me peel these?
With the exception of an emirate on the Persian Gulf
with our country, the last stronghold
of male hegemony
in the political field has fallen.
Who's going to scald the sweetbread?
The chicken and the rabbit are ready.
You have to uncork the wine.
All parties congratulated the Swiss people for their decision.
I'm really clumsy with my left hand.
I'll do it.
Give me a match, I need a toothpick.
What a banquet.
That's one thing Carlo is good at.
As you say, we're all fed up.
We've gorged ourselves.
Right you are.
Without much thought beforehand.
But with pleasure.
You wanted silver candelabra
and lace serviettes?
You'd rather have ceremony?
Let's say that a little ceremony
shows that one is conscious of what one does.
That's what feasts are for.
Children are very sensitive to this
and then it's lost.
When Marianne was small,
simply sitting on her potty,
taking a pee was a ceremony.
Now you know.
That's why Paul doesn't like soccer.
Yet it's the only game we still have
that excites crowds.
I love crowds.
Too bad the stakes are so small.
You choose the wrong crowd.
Anyway, it's some banquet.
You don't need to complicate life.
Marianne, do you remember?
"We have pacified life..."
"And we administrate liberty."
Silence! Be quiet!
Do you hear anything?
I think I hear something.
Hear what?
- Rapoli's truck returning? - No, quiet!
Don't you hear it?
- No, nothing. - Listen carefully.
It's still quite far away.
I swear you're crazy!
You're hearing voices like Joan of Arc.
"One hears, across the mountains,
the deafened echoes of history,
that reach our ears.
We often listen to them at night,
when peace reigns everywhere,
after nightfall comes.
The soup is on the fire..."
What's that from?
The end of a play we gave last year with the students.
You had me worried for a moment.
That's Rapoli's truck now.
"When the finger points at the moon..."
"...the fool looks at the finger".
Chinese proverb.
Last Thursday.
This is the infamy:
Our navel is no longer in the usual place,
and we now know with certainty
that our mountains
bear neither truth nor virtue.
Oppression no longer needs
a face, and even less, guns.
Its infamous order is inside of us.
Our heads rot.
The air we breathe is poisonous.
If freedom came our way
we wouldn't recognise it
because its light would dazzle us.
Anybody home?
Anybody there?
Someone here?
Yes, what is it?
Is Mr De here?
Yes, what do you want?
We've come to take him to the clinic
He's sick.
Yeah, he's very sick.
He's not sick at all.
There must be some mistake.
He's sick all right. Can we come in?
Wait a minute, let me talk to him first.
I'm sure it's a mistake.
Carlo!
Are you from the police?
No, from the Flickman clinic.
Yeah, that's right, the Flickman clinic.
You're wanted!
What's happening?
They say they're taking Carlo because he's sick.
Where is he? Where?
Carlo's sick?
First I've heard of it.
They say you're sick.
They're taking you to the clinic. That's not true, huh?
- Are you Mr De? - Yes, that's me.
We're going to take care of you, you don't look well.
Yeah, you look terrible.
Rubbish, Carlo's fine.
Come on. Let's go.
Leave him alone!
Don't be stupid, we know what we're doing.
Carlo! Don't go!
No, don't worry about it. It's better if I go.
We can take care of you if you're sick.
- He'd end up dead. - Yeah, he'd be dead.
Leave it Paul, it's better if I go.
No! Let him go!
Paul...Paul...
Carlo's right, he'll be back.
Come on then.
You're really leaving this time?
It's the best thing.
We'll visit you.
We'll bring you some books.
Bring him a bag of underwear.
We'll give him everything he needs.
Thank you for everything. See you soon.
See you soon!
You'll be back?
Carlo!
Stay!
You won't have to help paint anymore.
I'll take you to the soccer match!
Gentlemen.
Here's something that might interest you.
Listen.
"Saint-Just said,
the concept of happiness...
is new in France and the world.
The same can be said.
about the concept of unhappiness.
The consciousness of misfortune
implies the possibility
of another life, rather than an unhappy one.
Maybe today
the opposition happiness-unhappiness
or rather,
consciousness of a possible happiness,
consciousness of real happiness,
replaces the ancient notion
of destiny.
Could that explain the general malaise?"
What do you think?
Put the siren on so we don't have to listen to him.
We'll go straight through the red lights.
Yeah, we'll go straight through the red lights.
Friday: He who laughs last, laughs best. Proverb.
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