It's Maurice.
Come on, lazy. It's Saturday.
- What? - It's your turn to go and open up.
Get a move on.
Coming.
You're early.
You think? It's ten past eight.
Be an angel, make us some coffee.
Ten past eight. Hurry.
My dressing gown.
Your dressing gown. Here.
The time for that was last night.
I had work to do.
Forget it, we've got other things to do.
- I couldn't finish it last night. - Why not?
Because of this.
That's not bad.
Finish it by noon. I'll send somebody to pick it up.
- Stan will be angry. - Damn him.
Can't you shave? I'll never be there by nine.
Feasting your eyes? Every cube has a number.
- All right, I'm coming. - Now you will be late.
See? They're nice.
- The yellow isn't flashy enough. - What do you want?
That'll be fine.
Be calm, my friend.
Hello, how are you?
It's getting there. You're the last one.
Try to be here around eight.
I'll try.
Sorry, we're in a panic.
I have to go.
You could still kiss me goodbye.
No, not this way. You'll ruin everything.
- I said go the other way. - This is where you want to put me?
Hold on. Let's see it.
I need light, and you put me in a dark corner.
Mark it. You'll have the same light as everyone.
Listen, Stan. Come here.
When they arrive, they'll see only the stairs.
- Perfect interference. - Interference?
And this rainbow's reflecting on my work.
Splashing you, am I? You're lucky: there's a wall in front of me.
Look, every square metre is costing me a small fortune.
You'll have to settle for the place I give you.
- Is he annoyed already? - Hold this.
Now what?
The chains keep breaking.
- It's a DIY job. - I'll change it.
Good luck.
- What about your column? - It'll be ready by noon.
- We'll pick it up in the morning. - Tonight.
Forget it, I asked for it two weeks ago.
My assistant's been working twelve hours a day.
- And what have you been doing? - Working on this.
- What is it? - Rotating squares. Lot of work.
- It's not very exciting. - It's subtle.
I didn't give up advertising to do flashy stuff.
You should. Your work has to stand out, literally.
And that goes for all of you. Your stuff must impress them.
- What is it now? - Leparc's on the phone.
He can't find a van.
What a shambles. This is going to be a disaster.
Then he jumped on me. He poked and kicked me.
And then I was bleeding.
The more he hit me, the more I said: "I don't want to."
Finally I cried for pity, I kissed his feet, and...
You kissed his feet after he beat you?
- Yes. The first time, yes. - Did you get pleasure from it?
Yes. I forgave him. I bear no grudge.
For him, as for me, I'm his... his slave.
I want to belong entirely to him.
He beats her up and she asks for more.
- They're all like that. - Surprised?
- It's disgusting. - Next one.
You see a theme, someone else
sees another theme. In reality, nobody can see it.
Congratulations, Stan. It's marvellous.
Well done. See you soon.
Come to our stud farm. We're there every weekend.
I'll call you.
When a dynamic is launched,
the controlling force must be sufficiently intense
to ensure the total freedom of the morpho-chromatic elements.
Total freedom?
Well, almost. It's vital to avoid...
- You're in top form. - It's normal.
All this is so... stimulating.
- Leaving already? - Not my scene.
The stakes are high.
You can count on me. I'll be back when it's quieter.
Fine. Just give me a second.
Excuse me, I have customers.
We were at the Ferrands'. Not great, but we slept well.
It's simple, but it exists.
Yes, it matches the chap's outline.
- Funny, isn't it? - Yes, as a novelty.
My dear friend. Do you like it?
It's striking.
We came here to see you.
Gilbert's out of luck.
Yes. Why leave me to become an undercover painter?
- Have you seen him? - In the back room.
Yes, the labyrinth.
What's wrong with her?
All of them?
- Don't they count for anything? - Yes, historically perhaps.
I'm not a fool, but they're boring, meaningless.
I see.
- Just like Picasso. - Him too?
Burned out.
So what's left?
Well, we are.
It sounds pretentious, doesn't it?
Not at all.
- Was it unpleasant? - No, but when I drink, I misbehave.
I hope so.
- Getting back to Stan Hassler... - Again?
- I'm interested in your opinion. - I get some more ammunition.
Were you there?
Look, you can't say I'm jealous.
But if you planned to have it away with some tart,
why invite me? - Know who that "tart" is?
It's Justine Godard, the art critic.
She wants to write a whole review on my work.
- I have to warm her up a bit. - So warm her up in a bar.
- Or just take her home. - My car's at Lagny station.
Take mine.
You're too kind.
- What about that ammunition? - Never mind that.
The day's ending better than it began.
Can we begin now?
I'd prefer you over here.
Give me the microphone.
A short voice test.
...the artistic needs of our time.
2,000 homes are built in France every day.
What should we put on the walls?
Obviously art must be democratised by mass production.
Could you clarify that?
It's not a question of reproducing endless copies of easel paintings.
For my team, there are no originals.
All our works are identical.
We put out 400 or 500 at a time.
You're not a traditional art dealer?
Definitely not. I'm opening a discount supermarket for art.
- Your investment must be... - Considerable.
In the order of six figures.
It's an unprecedented risk.
And what if the public doesn't take to it?
The younger generation won't be shocked.
Kinetic art clashes
with our old cities, but it reflects the modern world
and helps us understand it.
And thanks for the discount.
- I tried to impress them. - You did very well.
Has Gilbert left?
- Are we meeting him later? - If we can find him.
There's no harm in it. He's just doing his job.
- As you are yours. - No. That's enough.
- How about dinner? Are you hungry? - Not very.
Me neither.
How about a quiet drink?
Give me five minutes to shut up shop.
- Did it go well, Sir? - Very well.
Thanks for waiting up, Salah.
Anything I can do, Sir?
Take out a few ice cubes
before retiring.
I put Sir's mail and telegrams in the study.
- Did you note down the calls? - On the pad.
Take a seat. I'll be right back.
Anything serious?
No, just some money issues. Nothing major.
There are some ice cubes.
Say when.
No, I take it straight.
Not drinking?
No, I never drink. Sometimes fruit-juice.
That's not much fun.
I'm not much fun.
Don't you like it here?
It's very nice.
A bit... surprising.
For you, I mean.
Don't you like Bellmer and Dubuffet?
I don't sell them but I do buy them.
Do you take photos?
Didn't Gilbert tell you?
Would you like to see some?
I'd love to.
It's only a hobby.
I've photographed bits of wall, drops of water.
But mainly words... words.
Writing is amazing: what you read,
what the author lets slip out.
- Not only authors do that. - You're harsh.
Can't you tell?
Just sit down there.
It's not very comfortable, but you'll see better.
You've got all the kit.
My magic lantern.
You hear about the painter's touch,
but the movement of a hand in writing is more spontaneous.
Take a little word like "nothing".
This one comes from a sentence by Paul Valery,
and this one from a Lamartine poem.
They wrote the same word, but they didn't mean the same thing.
Now take the verb "to be".
This is Paul Claudel,
Sacha Guitry,
Madame Récamier,
Francois Mauriac,
Napoleon.
How silly I am. It's my nerves.
I apologise. I couldn't help it.
- Forgive me. - No, I apologise. A stupid mistake.
- Did you make it on purpose? - What do you mean?
No, I assure you. I hope you believe me.
Yes, I believe you.
Can I see her again?
- Haven't you laughed enough? - I'll stop.
I don't feel like laughing any more.
Let me see her.
Who is that girl?
I'll take you home.
No, I'd rather you called me a cab.
Have I shocked you?
You enjoy it, don't you?
Don't you?
If I did, you wouldn't get such a kick out of it, would you?
You're less a fool than you look.
You think I'm a fool?
I think you're...
bizarre.
That makes us even. Let's be friends.
I'm not a friend.
It's not my style.
My driver will take you home.
Hello. Salah, it's me.
Well, how did it go last night? Did you have a good time?
We just wandered around. The Bilboquet, the Nuage.
She's one of those girls who never go to bed.
That's what you say.
Whatever.
And was it nice?
A real bitch.
Answer my question.
I was totally drunk.
- Anyway... - What?
Nothing.
Just tell me I'm a poor lover.
Where did you get that idea from?
Come on. Let's forget everything and start from scratch.
What about you?
- I had a drink with Stan. - Where?
- At his place. - At his place? Well, well.
- He takes you to his place now? - So what?
Did he show you his pictures?
- You've seen them? - Always the same stuff.
Handwriting, studies of textures.
No, not always.
He does nudes too.
- Nudes? - Yes. Rather peculiar nudes.
It doesn't surprise me. The fellow's quite perverse.
- How much? - Have you seen this?
Your husband's in it. Take a look.
We're hungry here.
So, what nice things have you brought us?
This rubbish.
You did have a good night. You really inspired your tart.
- It's out already? - And how.
"Stan Hassler, the fighter."
At least the headline's funny.
Listen to this. "Portrait of the Week by Gilbert Moreau..."
What? I never wrote that. She did.
She's completely mad.
Modest at least.
Here.
Look down the page. Story gathered by Justine Godard.
That's despicable. She stabbed me in the back.
Maybe. But at least she knows how to write.
"As a shrewd businessman, Mr Hassler applies to painting
"the principle of the production line for their manufacture
"and the discount supermarket for their sale."
"The private life of this loner with no friends or wife hides a mystery.
"An undisclosed or undisclosable secret?"
What a bitch.
That's not right at all. She took advantage when I was drunk.
What do I tell Stan now?
- What will I look like? - In time...
I have to take this blasted column to the gallery today.
Stan will jump down my throat.
- Send Maurice instead. - On his moped?
Even in pieces, it's too big.
No. The best thing would be...
You know what you'd do, if you were helpful?
- Good timing. Could you help me out? - Of course.
- I didn't take my car. - It's the rush hour.
Drop me home. I've an appointment.
Business?
Pleasure?
Pastime at the most.
Photography-
Again.
- I hope she's pretty. - That's not the main thing.
What is the main thing, then?
Submissiveness.
These girls... Are they professionals?
Never.
I hate technique.
- So they're perverted? - Not really.
They're girls who have a hard time making ends meet.
I put an ad in a photography magazine.
A perfectly decent ad in a respectable magazine.
There's where I find them.
The one today... What's she like?
I don't know. I never meet them in advance.
But she'll still obey you... in everything?
Everything. Precisely.
- And not one of them rebels? - Not one.
It's so easy to obey. Not feeling responsible.
- Put yourself in their place. - Me?
I'd die of shame.
Shame is part of the pleasure.
And afterwards, do you make love to them?
I never touch them. It's a matter of principle.
What if one of them falls in love with you?
She'll lose a hundred francs.
- A hundred francs? - That's the rate, for two hours.
But who can take pleasure in shame?
Everyone.
- You for example. - Me?
That photo, have you been thinking about it?
Perhaps.
Vaguely.
- Why all these questions? - Curiosity, pure curiosity.
Like all women.
Could I...
Would you mind if I came up for a second?
Impossible.
- Gilbert is my friend. - No harm in watching.
Gilbert and I have an agreement.
We tell each other everything.
He knows you came to my place last Saturday?
I told him Sunday morning over coffee.
And the photo incident?
- Of course. - Charming.
- What did he say? - "The fellow's quite perverse."
Well, of course.
All right, if that's how he takes it.
- But if I let you come up tonight... - I won't say anything to him.
What would be the point?
Come in, then.
Look out.
Maybe we could... play a record.
No. Not today.
It's my mother. She's in disgrace.
Don't be afraid.
I'm not ready yet.
May I have a cigarette?
No, later.
What's that for?
You'll see.
Push the button.
Who is this?
It's you.
So, what is it?
We had an agreement. So what are you doing?
Are you coming or not?
Where are you?
Take a cab, then. Yes. Yes, I'll pay for it.
Yes, see you shortly.
Hurry up.
We don't use it every day.
The girl's late.
I could set the lights up with you. Would you mind?
No. Not at all.
Come here, then.
Stand there.
Strike a pose.
No, take the handbag off.
No, not like that.
That's better.
Keep still.
You look afraid, like you're about to be beaten.
Get up on the plinth.
Raise your arms.
No, not like that. Cross your wrists.
Imagine they're attached.
Stand on tiptoe.
Stretch yourself.
Like you were suspended. Higher.
Higher. Higher.
Stay like that.
Relax and follow me.
Turn just your head towards me. Slowly.
Slowly. Very slowly.
Now you see what it's for?
Does Mr Hassler live here?
I've GOT PROBLEMS
- Is that true? - It's the customers who...
- Sorry, I meant... - No, don't apologise.
You're quite right.
We all have our problems.
Don't we, José?
Is her name José?
That's nice. Mine's Maggie.
Is she here to pose too?
She's gathering information.
Go on, José.
Ask her your questions. Theory first.
It's a unique chance.
- What's your occupation? - I'm a beautician.
Well, I did a correspondence course.
- Are you busy? - Still training, but not for long.
I'll make it.
- How long have you been posing? - 18 months.
Do you enjoy it?
The course needs paying for.
Where'd you get the idea?
Christiane, a friend of mine, told me. A right cow.
We shared the same flat.
I see.
You have strange things.
- What's it meant to be? - Nothing.
I wouldn't like one at home. It'd give me bad dreams.
That's a bit saucy.
- From Africa? - The Indies.
Same thing.
It reminds me of the suburbs. We went to visit this rich man.
He had a lion. A real lion.
- In a cage? - No, as a carpet. Killed it himself.
He made us lie on it.
It was an old lion, very itchy. But so chic.
Right, enough theory. Time for the practice.
Get undressed.
No. That's too easy.
Drop your dress.
Now, pull it up very slowly.
Show us what you can do.
Move your hips.
Just slightly.
Interesting, isn't it?
That's enough with the dress. Take it off.
Head up. All I can see is your hair.
Are you ashamed? Aren't you used to this?
Is it because Jose is here?
It doesn't seem to bother her.
Take off your bra.
Put your head back.
Let yourself go.
Stay there.
Here, put this on.
It's much more decent.
So much for the playgroup activities.
Now we're going to have a good time.
Can I take a break?
José, take care of her.
It's cold when you come out from the lights.
Sorry, but I'm late.
I have to go.
See you soon.
What was wrong with her?
Get dressed.
Is that it? I'm not tired. It's the metro that's tiring.
Here you are at last.
Tell me about it.
- We just got out from a screening. - At this time?
It was never ending.
Obviously you didn't go to the gallery.
You're wrong. I did.
Wasn't it closed?
At 9pm?
I went there this morning, not this evening.
But I phoned at noon
and they asked for the column.
They're stupid.
Unfasten my dress.
Pour me a whisky.
I don't know what's wrong with me, but I feel like drinking.
Unfasten my bra.
Yes. Carry on.
Wouldn't you rather do it on the bed?
You idiot. Why don't we turn the lights off too?
- Easy... - Leave me alone.
But why are you...
That's when it all started.
He was at home and I found out later...
- Was he in another room? - He was...
And how did it happen?
First, they got me drunk,
then they tried to...
to make me mingle with them, with all of them.
I refused and...
You didn't give in to anything.
- Be honest. - At first I did.
I had to because I was drunk.
It was a psychological shock for me.
I had a nervous breakdown.
Which images do you recall?
One above all.
A terrible one that I keep seeing again and again.
Would you tell me what it is?
It happened in a studio.
The bed cover was green.
There was a tall red-haired girl
who had photos attached to her thighs.
Then photos were thrown at my face and I saw that they were...
pornographic.
Awful photos like I'd never seen but had heard about.
I couldn't believe that the man I'd lived with
and with whom I had a child was part of it.
Since then I've been suffering terribly with my nerves.
The girl was an addict,
and she wanted to kiss me by force.
And on the bed,
a kind of corner divan...
he was there with...
- With whom? - With...
a man...
Anyone here?
Hello, Mrs Chautemps. I'd like to see Mr Hassler.
Isn't Gilbert with you?
I've a letter for him from Dusseldorf.
Mr Buttenstadt needs the photos for the catalogue of his show.
A month in advance?
You know how slow the printers are.
Miss David is here.
Send her up.
You can go.
Just a minute, please.
It's a good Vasarely, isn't it?
It looks like a cage.
Won't you sit down?
I came because...
I've been thinking about the other day.
I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.
Why should you be sorry?
It's normal.
You're a little housewife and you behaved like one.
I expected nothing else.
Actually you stood up pretty well. Not for long, but...
I'd have liked to...
Tell me.
I'm trying to.
I was wrong to walk out.
That's all.
Well, if that's all...
You look pitiful.
I am pitiful.
Let me see your eyes.
Is it so difficult?
Look, I'm sorry, but I've a lot of work to do.
If you've something to say, say it.
Can I come again?
You already have.
Not here. To your place.
What for?
- You know perfectly well. - No, I don't.
I won't make things easier for you.
To pose for photographs, then.
Do you want me to take pictures of you?
Well, I don't want to.
With young Maggie again, Perhaps-
- All right. - If she's willing.
- She likes it. - You offended her.
- Can you give her a call? - Not me.
- You. - Me?
ltalie 6234.
No, I can't.
Well, then...
What's the number? I'll call later.
From here.
Backing down already?
- No, I'll call her. - Well?
I don't know if you...
remember me. This is Jose.
Yesterday, that's right.
I'd like to know...
if you're free tomorrow.
Tomorrow at six o'clock? Yes, at his apartment.
Apologise.
- You're very kind. - Apologise.
I apologise.
For behaving...
Like...
Like what? Like a fool.
I'm sorry I left the last time.
No, for leaving before you were finished.
I won't do it again.
So, is it alright for tomorrow?
- There you go. - So,
what will you do tomorrow?
With you?
With her.
Whatever you tell me.
And if I don't say anything?
I don't know.
I'll try to...
I'm not a little housewife.
So you say. You'll have to prove it.
I'll do everything you want.
Everything I want.
Well, do it. What are you waiting for?
She's here.
She's standing there like an idiot. Speak to her. Give her orders.
Go on.
She comes in.
I tell her...
to undress. - She's over there.
Speak to her. Not to me.
- Take your clothes off. - Really...
Undress. I told her...
Undress.
Go on.
- Come here. - She's naked already? That was fast.
Visualise her.
What's under her coat? The same dress as last time?
No, a skirt and a sweater.
First she takes off her skirt.
She lets it drop at her feet.
- Go on. - She steps over it.
She takes off her sweater.
She's caught her head in it. She can't get it off.
Laugh.
She's ridiculous.
Well...
What are you waiting for?
Undress...
completely.
Take off your...
Not so fast.
Your shoes.
Only one. Make her walk like that.
Walk.
Can you see?
See the way she's limping?
- She's going to bump into the wall. - Let her.
There.
- Don't move. - Go on. improvise.
- I've had enough. - Already?
I can see you're willing, but you'll never be ready for tomorrow.
Yes, I will. It'll be all right. I promise.
- I'm not embarrassed. - Go on, then.
- Turn around. - Louder.
Come back down on the floor.
- Walk on your hands and knees. - It's called walking on all fours.
- Walk on all fours. - Where to?
On the floor. As far as your clothes, your shoe.
Climb the ladder.
Come down.
Up... down...
Get dressed. Get out.
All right, she's gone.
Your turn now. Stand up.
Stand up.
I won't touch you.
You'll stand up all by yourself, right now.
You'd have liked to be in her place, wouldn't you?
Take off one shoe.
Walk like that.
Don't make me hurt you. Walk.
Stop.
Look at me.
Open your legs.
All the way. Spread them wider.
Hands behind your back.
You look beautiful like that. Mrs Chautemps is coming.
She'll see you like that.
What are you doing?
Who gave you permission? Come on.
More.
Bend over.
More than that.
Lean forward.
Come on. More.
I can't.
Fine. Lift up your jacket.
- Higher. - Leave me alone.
- Come on, higher. - No. Come closer.
I'm fine here.
- Come close to me. - Obey.
- No, I don't want... - On your knees.
On your knees. Beg forgiveness.
- Forgiveness for what? - Don't you know?
What do you have to beg forgiveness for?
- I want to go. - You'll go through with it.
- No. Not now. I want to go. - Then go. You're free.
I'm not free.
It hurts.
I'm not harming you. I'm doing you good.
It's what you've wanted all along.
Did I want it?
But what am I, if that's what I want?
You're nothing.
- I'm worse than nothing. - You're like all of us.
Look at yourself in the mirror.
There are mirrors everywhere. Look at yourself.
There. Look at yourself.
Look in the mirror.
- Can you see yourself there? - I look...
I look like an animal.
I'm dirty.
Yes, you're dirty.
- And you like to see yourself dirty. - No, it isn't true.
It's not possible...
And yet, it is true...
I like it.
Open your mouth.
No... Not now.
I'm not like that.
Open your mouth.
Are you ashamed?
No, I'm not ashamed.
I'm not used to it, but...
Please.
I like it.
It's for you.
I must go now.
Will you dream about it all night?
I will.
- In the morning, you'll do it again. - I will.
- You'll look in the mirror. - I will.
You'll do it again soon, to please me.
For you I'd...
I'll do whatever you want.
What did you do today?
I worked as usual.
All day?
And I'm tired of working.
Let me have some fun.
José, are you sure you've nothing to tell me?
Did you say something?
All right. Don't talk.
Are you going out?
As you can see.
But I thought you had a day off.
Going to the pictures with the girls.
Not doing anything stupid, are you?
Mind your own business. Besides, I've no time to chat.
- What time is it? - Ten past five.
We're meeting at six.
No. That's enough.
I disgust myself.
You disgust me.
A voyeur, that's what you are.
- I'm in love with a voyeur. - What's a voyeur?
You're asking me?
Everyone is a voyeur.
Everyone who buys a paper.
Every day they see a young girl raped,
a general being executed, a dying racing cyclist...
- There are happy photos too. - Sure. With nice captions.
"Mr and Mrs Jones two hours before the tragedy."
You see evil everywhere.
I see it where it is. And I'm in it up to my neck.
But I have the courage to accept myself.
Have you ever taken pity on yourself?
Never.
On me?
Too late.
Stan, it's too difficult. I can't do it.
I beg you.
Have some pity on me.
You'd never forgive me.
Who's there? I don't recognise your voice.
A friend of Maggie.
Are you calling for her?
You've never done any photos? Even better.
Yes, she's here.
I'm sure she'll be happy to.
Let's say tomorrow, same time.
Tomorrow? You expect me to come back tomorrow?
Hold on. Give me your number, I'll call you back.
What's wrong with you?
Can't you understand I've had enough?
I just begged you to stop. You don't care.
I don't exist for you.
Do you even know what pleases me and what sickens me?
No. If you wanted to know, you'd have to look at me.
Out of the question.
You are a voyeur, but a blind one.
You don't even know what I'm capable of.
People in love can do anything.
But when they're not, it's just mean.
I've never mentioned love.
- You said you were curious. - And you believed me.
How poorly you know women.
Why would I ask you to forgive me?
And when I phoned Maggie while crying,
I was happy because I was crying for you.
- You don't know what love is. - I don't want to.
Obviously, that's easier.
Only it's not true. You wish you could love me.
But then you'd have to be a man, not a selfish and spoilt child.
You have nothing to give.
You're empty. You've always been empty.
You're not a man, you're a maniac.
- You're no artist, you're a dealer. - Stop it.
I'm finished.
You can call your Nicole back.
Stop.
Add more yellow.
- Where's the manager? - Over there.
At last. I thought you'd forgotten us.
Forget you? Unlikely.
We've been trying to reach you.
We've written, phoned, nothing.
You should've asked José.
I haven't seen her since... for quite a while.
- You printed my lithos without me? - We couldn't wait.
The blue is too dense.
Stop for a minute.
Well, go on. Make your correction.
You can do it for me.
- Like all the rest. - You're mad.
What were you doing for two weeks? Working?
Hanging around.
- Before your show? That's clever. - I'm not clever.
- I'll prove it: I'm leaving you. - No explanation?
None whatsoever.
- We have a contract. - We had one. A friendly contract.
- I thought so. - Well, then?
Gilbert, you're wrong.
I'm tired of this.
So am I. More than you think.
- We just said no explanations. - Well...
Here's your catalogue for Germany.
A break-up present.
Very nice.
Really workmanlike.
take me with you to Dusseldorf.
I'm afraid.
- Of what? - Everything.
I'm afraid of Stan.
I know.
You knew?
- I'm not stupid. - And you said nothing?
What about you?
We agreed we wouldn't lie to each other. Remember?
Yet you didn't say a word. Why?
He didn't want me to.
And that was enough for you?
Listen. Don't get angry. And please, don't laugh, but...
he didn't want to hurt you.
- He's too kind. - He's very fond of you, you know.
Have you slept with him?
No. Never.
What are you waiting for?
Is that why you're leaving me behind?
You can think things over.
Take me with you, Gilbert.
Wait, I'll take you to the airport.
Better not.
I'm not a hero, you know.
I can't...
I can't believe it's over.
I can't.
I know if I saw him again and he asked me, I'd do it again.
There's no way... I can't do it.
I can't do it any more.
It's too painful.
Why are we leaving? It's so beautiful.
You'll see, it'll be nice there too.
Any luggage?
You're soaking wet.
Take off your dress, I'll lend you one.
Thank you. I'm fine.
- What are you thinking about? - Nothing.
Nothing at all.
Suddenly you're not the same.
Yes, I am.
- Stan, tell me what's on your mind. - Nothing.
You always keep everything to yourself. Please, tell me.
The maid just now.
You sent her away as if you didn't trust me.
I just wanted to be alone with you.
Really alone.
It feels like the first time, Stan.
Yes, you're right.
I'm cold.
You're soaking wet. Leave it to me.
Stan, I love you.
If you only knew how much.
You'll see how good it is.
It'll be a mess.
There's something in me that doesn't allow me...
that holds me back.
I'm incapable of loving you.
Leave me, please.
You'll be unhappy.
I'm so happy.
Do you love me?
I adore you.
Leave us alone.
Gilbert Moreau, Dusseldorf. Unable to come. Your friend...
I've brought your shaving cream.
I'm going to wash my hair.
"Your friend, Stan."
We're not going out today.
We'll stay in the room.
What can we send up for lunch? We have Belon oysters.
- How big? - Double zero.
Three dozen.
- And two grilled lobsters? - Why not?
And a sickly-sweet cake.
- With cream? - Lots of cream.
- And a Muscatel? - No, some champagne.
Dom Pérignon 1949.
Is that you?
Hold on.
Could you pass me my comb?
- Where is it? - In my jacket pocket, I think.
Stan? Did you find the comb?
To: Miss Claude Sobjak
We're in love. It's wonderful. Will tell you everything. Jose.
He had his fun
and then he left me.
He left me all alone, without a single penny.
Now you know.
Let me go.
Going to keep me here long?
- First explain yourself. - You won't understand.
He's corrupted you, hasn't he?
I had a talent for it, you know.
If you really want to know, it thrilled me.
All day and night I imagined things.
- And... - Please.
No details.
You wanted the truth, you got it.
Did you want the truth to be clean?
Well, too bad for you.
Too bad for you.
The truth always hurts.
If you were in love with him, I'd have understood.
But that.
Yes. "That".
- It didn't stop me loving you. - You're not serious.
Yes, I loved you.
You don't know what a normal woman is.
Always a saint or a whore.
Well, that's too easy.
You're as foolish as Stan.
- In reverse. - I'll make him pay.
Right now. He won't do it again.
But I trusted you.
I don't give a damn.
- Where are you going? - To pay him a visit.
It's not his fault. It's mine.
I'm a slut. Don't go there.
Bastard.
Give me Alma 0556, please.
Salah, put Sir on quickly.
- Who's calling? - José David. It's urgent.
Sir isn't here.
I know he's there. Please, it's very serious.
- Very serious? - Sir is in danger, Salah.
José? It's me. What is it?
Stan, listen to me, please. It's terrible.
- Gilbert is... - What?
I told him everything. He's furious.
- Is that all? - He's gone to get you.
- He wants to kill you. - Let him come.
Stan, I showed him the pictures.
He called me awful names. He might do anything.
- It's all my fault. - Calm down.
- Stan, it's the last... - Slow down.
This is the last time. I'll never bother you again.
- Promise you'll be careful. - I promise.
I know what to do.
- Promise me you'll calm down. - Yes, I am calm.
- Alright. - You can hear how calm I am.
Goodbye, Stan.
Mr Hassler, please.
Sir is expecting you.
This way.
Sir is waiting for you up there.
What are you waiting for?
No. That's too easy. Look at me.
You're ugly.
You're...
A swine?
A swine.
Scoundrel.
A wretch.
An impotent one.
- Go on, say what you think. - You're sick. Yes, sick.
I pay homage to the simplicity of your morals.
Spare me the sarcasm.
I may not be very bright, but perversion...
I've known stupid perverts.
Those are all posh ideas.
Did she send you?
Do you mean I'm not big enough to come by myself?
Then why didn't you come sooner?
Because I was foolish enough to think you loved her.
You weren't mistaken.
Don't tell her. I never did.
Yes, I loved her.
Do you call that love?
What?
Your photos, your orgies...
What is love for you, then?
None of your business.
You think I don't know?
- It's enough to look at you... - Shut up.
- A dirty little... - Shut up.
...useless husband, self-absorbed... - Shut up.
- A brainless little... - Shut up.
- You see? - That's enough.
What's more, you're a coward.
You're right, I'm a coward.
It's hard to kill someone.
It's even harder to kill yourself.
It really seems it's confession day.
I've tried to kill myself.
Yet you're alive.
I failed.
Know what? You're going to take her back.
Never.
She needs you.
You've ruined everything.
Now...
I think she disgusts me.
If she did, you wouldn't have come.
Thank God, our beloved patient is out of the coma.
You can visit her, the doctor has given his permission.
Only briefly. She may not even recognise you.
- I thought she was out of danger. - So did I, last night.
Her temperature has risen.
Abdominal complications.
But don't give up hope.
We'll save her at any cost.
Is she in pain?
No, she's dreaming.
It hurts...
Stan, it's you...
It's me.
Don't worry.
Everything will be fine.