MY AFTERNOONS WITH MARGUERITTE
- Hi, Germain. - Hi, Paulo.
Eighty, ninety,
one hundred...
There's some missing.
Forget something?
I forgot to say, you're not just an asshole, you're a thief!
You stiffed me!
You didn't finish the job!
- Get lost! - What?
I did finish the job!
I said I'd need 10 hours. I finished in 8. The job's done.
You scum.
Scum!
That's what you get!
You scum!
Get lost, jerk!
Shut it, you thief!
He owes me...
10 hours, he owes me 2 hours.
1... 2...
3... 4...
5... 6...
19!
Talking to me?
Yes, young man. 19 in all.
What's so funny?
You said young man.
You're a young man to me.
You come here a lot?
Almost every day, God willing.
Something intrigues me...
Why are you counting the pigeons?
To see if any are missing or if they're all here.
Look, the little one with a white wing feather...
He wasn't here last Saturday.
Yeah, I noticed...
I named him White Feather.
You name them?
To keep track.
If you really look, no two are the same!
They have personalities, like kids.
You have children?
No... How about you?
No.
If you had children, you wouldn't...
get them all confused.
If I had 19,
I'm not so sure.
Tell me the other names.
Yes, the others...
Pierre and Chickadee, they always smooch...
Next to him is Mule...
That's Fly...
This is Biscuit...
That one, who always wants his way, that's Johnny...
The one with the feather is Thief...
He robs all the feathers.
That mischievous one there...
See, she's Marguerite.
- Like me! - Really?
My name's Margueritte, too, with 2 Ts.
My poor dad, put it on my birth certificate...
He couldn't spell very well.
My mother decided to keep it that way.
They liked it.
I was born from a love story.
- Like everyone. - No, not everyone.
Some people are mistakes.
I have to go.
Perhaps we'll meet another day.
Thank you, sir.
Thank you, Mr... what's your name?
Chazes.
Germain Chazes.
Well, Mr. Chazes, I'm delighted to meet you.
Thanks for introducing me to your big family.
Keep an eye on your bag. A little thief might snatch it.
Not much in it.
They don't know that.
- Hi, Germain. - It's my birthday!
Drinks on me.
Cheap bubbly.
It's sparkling white!
How old are you?
That's top secret information.
Hi, Youssef!
He looks older, right?
Asshole! Not on my shoes, dammit!
Mr. Landremont, drinks on me.
Thank you, my friend. No alcohol for me.
A king who lost his head, 5 letters?
Pick up, spaghetti pomodoro.
That new girl's a hottie!
A girl, where?
She's a nurse at the clinic.
I've fallen for her.
It's Capet!
Louis Capet.
Louis XVI, decapitated in 1793!
- Which one? - In pink.
Two orders of headcheese and a special!
No more specials!
Whose pomodoro?
The gal by the window.
Allow me.
Know what you are... a big zero!
It's over, get it? Never again!
Don't bother!
You're a bastard! A real bastard!
He's scouting.
- Al dente for you? - It's for me.
Listen to me, will you?
Let me talk! I can't hear. Stop babbling!
Something to drink?
Red wine, a glass.
I'm not listening anymore.
Excuse me, are you Marie-Christine?
No, Stephanie.
Someone's talking, I can't hear.
You got it made, she's breaking up.
Francine, a glass of Côte du Rhone!
You bring it. It's Stephanie.
You're amazing! Do I go now?
Not tomorrow morning!
Put another round on my tab!
When will you pay?
Top secret information! Ciao!
That's a good one.
Youssef!
Can I touch?
Come here.
Having fun flirting?
- Just being friendly. - Sure.
Take care of this.
Love me? Give me a smooch.
Not now.
Orienting Maupassant...
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5...
Orienting...
A guide.
Guide Maupassant.
You'd never think of that one! Guy de Maupassant.
What?
The Maupassant Guides, like the Michelin Guides.
Come on.
The Maupassant Guide?
Tell me I'm dreaming.
It's like the Michelin Guide!
What a country bumpkin!
- What? - Nothing...
Holy shit.
So you went to high school, mechanic!
So, Chazes?
Don't know the answer?
Mr. Chazes is in a daze?
The trouble with Mr. Chazes is that he's in a haze!
In a very, very thick haze!
Is that right, Chazes?
You got mail!
Shit.
I'll leave them here.
You're a pain.
Hello.
Congratulations! Good job, dimwit!
Let me, Mrs. Chazes.
No, I'll do it.
Out of the way!
One stupid prank after another.
It started with the forceps!
10 hours of agony, the oaf was so huge!
10 pounds!
Know how big that is?
That's 5 kilos.
I'll show you.
A bag of potatoes, a bag of rice,
a bottle of oil,
add margarine,
and you get... that!
It eats, it consumes, it's filthy!
What a delight!
"It"...
How can you call a person "it"?
I wouldn't talk to a dog that way.
If I had a dog,
I'd call him Dog.
"It."
- Are you there? - Yes.
People oughta think twice before they have kids.
'Cause a kid
isn't just a mutt you leave by the side of the road.
What are you mumbling, sweetie?
I'm mumbling about...
I think...
What a pain in the ass.
What happened?
Some families love each other.
They pat your head and say,
"Looks just like his dad."
I look like nobody.
Except for a pair of nuts.
Don't talk about your dad like that.
That's how I talk.
Every other word's a curse,
rude words that make things ugly.
That's the only way I can talk about my dad.
He doesn't exist. Neither do I.
No one to look up to.
I had to make it on my own.
Don't be silly. I'm happy you're here.
I'm lucky to have you.
Lucky how?
Because I love you, sweetie pie.
I love to be inside you.
That's where I'm happiest. It's soft and warm.
Like being wrapped in silk.
Like feathers.
Do you know the Maupassant Guide?
Hey, Germain!
What?
Who's that?
It's Julien.
Give me a hand. It's Landremont.
He's crying and says he'll kill himself.
Oh, shit.
I'll be right there!
Goddamn Landremont. He's at it again.
Lost his head when his wife died.
When was that?
Three years ago, she died of cancer.
Pain in the ass.
He calls for help and won't open the door.
- Got company? - Annette.
Sorry about that.
I can't stand it!
I hate everybody! It's plain and simple.
He overdid the booze, big time.
Open up!
Landremont!
Go to hell, you hear me?
Open up, goddammit! Drinking won't bring her back!
She's dead and gone!
- Don't say that! - What?
I can't take it!
Everything's gonna be OK, open up.
Open up!
You want us to break a window?
Of course not.
Hand it over. Don't do anything stupid.
Gotta take a piss.
Go ahead.
He's pissing.
He's doing it again!
Excuse me.
Germain!
I don't believe it.
You're not doing it again? I've had it!
Every time I write my name, you take it off.
It's a public monument!
Who's it hurting if I put my name?
It's to honor dead war heroes! Understand?
You have to be dead?
Yes! Dead war heroes!
Why do you keep doing this?
To bug you!
Hello there, Mr. Chazes!
Are they all here?
Everyone's here.
Do you like to read?
I tried. It didn't work.
Hey, Crabster. Cool it!
What's his name?
Crabster.
And that means?
Crabs, if you like.
Do you mean pubic lice?
Yes, but...
they call kids that 'cause they stick all over you.
They get on your nerves.
Oh, I see...
the comparison with... crabsters.
That's it. You get the picture.
Yes, I have understood you.
I've a friend named Jojo Ze Cook. He named his parrot De Gaulle.
'Cause he keeps saying, "I have understood you."
Your friend cooks?
You know Jojo?
I haven't met him.
How'd you know he's a cook?
You just mentioned it, "Jojo Ze Cook."
In English, that means someone who cooks.
Ze Cook. That means...
All right... okay...
Like the butcher they call "Mr. Paté."
And the carpenter they call "Mr. Plank."
Jojo, Ze Cook is from English...
I get it now.
I wonder if he knows?
Lucky you became a cook with your name.
What?
Give me a hand.
Let me. Where do you want it?
There, for the wedding tonight.
You got a wedding?
Landremont,
I was telling Jojo it's great he's a cook.
With the name Ze Cook.
What's he talking about?
Don't you get it? Ze Cook means cook in English!
It went over your head!
Holy shit, he's thick. Totally out to lunch.
Germain...
My name's Pelletier. Got it?
Joel Pelletier.
I worked in England, Ze Cook is a nickname.
It's Pelletier. Ze Cook's a nickname.
It's like calling you Ze Moron.
Need to piss?
Enough! Germain's not any dumber than you.
And he's nicer. What'll it be, Germain?
A glass of white.
Can I use your van? Got a big market this Wednesday.
Like always!
Hey, Germain.
Hey, Youss!
You stink pretty, got a date?
Yes, a date with me.
Stephanie...
Hi, Stephanie. See, this is Julien.
Julien's great, don't you think?
He thinks you're pretty special.
Germain, please, stop!
- He's too shy to tell you. - Lay off!
You should go out with him.
There's a waiting list.
Pick more tomatoes from your garden with Jojo. We're out.
We still have tons.
No, we're out. All gone. It's urgent.
I get it. Come on, let's go.
See, I set you up.
Bye, Stephanie.
Youss stinks to high heaven.
Look at her.
Go on, help yourself. Don't mind me!
When I offer, she chucks them at me.
She'd rather steal them.
You plant your shit in my yard, I take what I want!
You smoke too much!
Keep your trap shut.
Good-for-nothing.
Some mother!
I didn't choose her, she didn't choose me.
I can see why you got out.
Why do you stay so close with your trailer?
Move away!
Even if I went around the world,
the distance between my mother and me is in our heads....
It's, it's....
- Symbolic? - That's it, symbolic.
And anyway, I have my garden.
Come and see.
I did all this, see?
All those little cabbages.
There... Escarole, leeks.
The greenhouse. I built the greenhouse.
If you want tomatoes, there's plenty.
See, there's a Beefsteak.
That's a Black Krim.
And then there's... that kind...
What are those called?
Those are Marmandes.
That's right.
Step right up, ladies, don't be shy...
get your beautiful tomatoes,
gorgeons, tomatoes, leeks and turnips,
pretty heads of Romaine, curly lettuce...
Like the curly-top young lady.
Nice to be called young lady.
- Yes? - 4 leeks, please.
Help yourself. You like 'em big.
Any melons?
Cloclo has melons... Cloclo!
Seguin's got a great wine to go with the melons. Over there.
Big ones?
2.20.
20 cents?
Time price is marked here.
Thank you.
Perfect. Nice and fresh.
Remind me Friday to bring more melons.
Friday, I have a blood test.
Again? Your nurse is a vampire!
How is she with you?
- Evasive. - That's a good start.
Come and get them.
Hello, pretty blonde!
- It's taken. - What?
- It's taken. - A park bench?
What nerve!
Hello, Mr. Chazes.
You can call me Germain.
- Really? - Sure!
Only if you call me Margueritte.
If you insist, I don't mind.
I insist, absolutely.
In that case, OK.
I'm late because my nephew and his wife came from Belgium.
Without so much as an if-you-please. A money problem.
You see,
I'm behaving as if we had an appointment.
Like sweethearts.
That looks delicious.
- Want some? - No, thank you.
I just had lunch.
It's unusual to see a man in the park at this time of day.
Don't you work?
I have all the jobs I want.
But I can just press pause.
I thought of you last night.
Me? Why?
I think of you and our pigeons.
You know, when you sort through books,
you always flip through one or two at random.
I happened to come across a sentence.
Of course, I can't remember it.
I'll find it.
"How can one conjure up, for example, a city without pigeons,
without trees and gardens,
no encounters with flapping wings,
nor rustling leaves, a neutral place, when all is said and done,
changing seasons are read only in the sky,
Spring's arrival is announced by the air quality,
or baskets of flowers
brought from the outskirts by diminutive vendors,
a Spring only sold in markets."
Do you like it?
Yes... but could you
read it again? Not too fast, if you don't mind.
Yes, of course. Sorry.
"How can one conjure up, for example,
a city without pigeons, without trees and gardens..."
That can't exist...
But it's not bad.
What's it called?
"The Plague",
Albert Camus.
Albert! Like my grandfather.
I'll lend it to you.
I don't read much.
No.
"We set out as 500, but promptly reinforced...
we became 3,000
as we ariveded in port."
"As we ariveded in port."
Bravo!
Even when Mr. Chazes reads aloud, he makes spelling mistakes.
Shall I continue?
Sure, I don't mind!
That's good. I love reading aloud.
But when people go by and see me chattering
to myself on a park bench, they'd think I'm...
An old flake.
Yes, an old flake!
A flake is a bird-brain, isn't it?
Are you in a hurry?
No, it's fine.
So, shall we plunge in head-first?
I'm skipping the first pages to get into the plot.
It takes place in Oran. In Algeria.
I know.
You've read it?
No, I mean I know Oran's in Algeria.
Because my friend, Youssef's parents are from Oran.
Oh, I see, very well. This is it.
"For after the 18th
the factories and warehouses
disgorged rat cadavers by the hundreds.
In some cases one had to slay the creatures
whose agony was too long.
Wherever our fellow citizens gathered,
rats awaited them, piled in refuse bins,
or in long queues in the gutters."
Are you asleep?
No, I'm imagining. Keep going...
"But in the days to follow, the situation worsened,
the number of amassed rodents increased
and every morning the harvest was more abundant.
On the 4th day,
the rats began coming out to die in groups.
From sheds, from basements, from cellars
and sewers,
they arose in long, staggering lines,
to shudder in the daylight,
reel around, and come to die near the humans."
Beautifully written, isn't it?
It grabbed me by the ears right away, like a rabbit.
Those rats, all bloated and stinking.
Squeaking everywhere. I could see them.
Rats are the only animals that make me sick.
You haven't read anything by Camus?
"The Stranger"?
"The Fall"?
Doesn't ring a bell.
Shall we continue?
Sure,
but another time.
I brought you fruit.
Did you wipe your feet?
How many did you smoke?
350, and go to hell!
Why put that on uncle George?
I hate his ugly mug!
But he's family.
All assholes!
You forgot your mail again.
That's my pension check!
Trying to steal my pension?
Gimme that!
Now you've done it!
You big oaf!
Come sit down.
Let's see what looks good on you. Not blue...
Here we go.
It suits your Spanish look,
Flamenco dancer.
- Like to dance? - Love it.
It looks terrific.
I'm not the type to flatter.
Just the same, I can't afford it.
You can pay in other ways.
Not so fast!
Tell me how much rent I owe.
For what?
For parking my trailer.
We can trade.
I could cook for you sometimes, Mr. Gardini.
Jean-Michel.
Stop nosing around, pest!
Get my groceries instead of gaping like a fool!
That kid gets to me.
You want a slap?
"Listening to the elation rising from the city,
Rieux recalled that such elation was always threatened.
For he knew what the joyous throng did not,
things one can read in books...
That a day might come when
for the misfortune and enlightenment of men,
the plague would awaken its rats
and send them to die in a happy city."
There.
- It's over? - Yes.
We read "The Plague" in 10 days.
Except for a few excerpts.
You read it.
Don't think that, Germain.
You're an excellent reader.
Reading is listening.
- Listening? - Look at children.
When you teach them to read...
you read aloud to them.
If you read well, if they listen well, they want more,
and then they need it.
They get hooked, like junkies.
I never did drugs, but I never did books either.
- It's yours. - No!
Just this once, keep it.
Really, I insist! There.
On this earth, we are but couriers.
I'm giving you a book.
I underlined all the passages we chose to read.
- Thanks. - I won't say, "It's nothing."
Because it's not nothing.
I'll share with you
some of my favorite quotations.
Would you like that?
With that look, I bet you turned a lot of heads...
Saying, "Would you like that?"
See you soon, Germain!
See you, Margueritte.
THE PLAGUE
"The Plague".
What did she say?
Oh, yeah...
"The next day...
April 17th..."
A terrible quake has shaken the south.
Buildings toppled, 32 perished in the rubble.
Hundreds are injured.
Damn. Some people have no luck.
If it's not bombs falling,
it's the earth giving way.
And sometimes they even get cholera.
Or the plague like in Camus' book.
You've read Camus?
Just "The Plague", "The Fall", "The Stranger"...
Since when do you like books?
What's wrong with Francine?
Youssef took off.
Where to?
Not where, with who.
With Stephanie, the nurse.
I thought...
Nobody sees anything, and boom!
Don't look at me.
Poor thing.
We playing or crying?
Don't cry, baby doll.
He'll come running back.
Come on. How old are you?
50.
How old?
50.
That's up there.
What?
It's a big age difference.
But Youssef knows the best stew comes from old pots.
Two words for you.
Bra-vo!
Just trying to help out.
There are plenty of Youssefs.
Like Dr. Pellison's old Simca...
You know the guy. He's been here.
Couldn't insure the old heap, but he found a buyer.
What did I say?
You're on a roll. Must be all that reading.
I'm going. I've chores.
For more books to read.
Take your time. Don't hurry back.
The caveman!
The Neanderthal.
Those morons,
they get a charge out of me.
Reading's hard. We can talk. You don't tease me.
You know,
one word's OK, and the next, and the next.
You keep going and you underline,
8 - 11 - 12
all the way to the end.
And what does it get you?
The problem is, you want to put them together,
but it doesn't work, they scatter.
Like nuts and bolts thrown in a box.
You understand?
Some people know how.
It's easy for them.
Like Margueritte.
Just a little old granny,
85 pounds, dressed like a posey.
Her head is filled with shelves.
On the shelves are books, books, books.
- She understands... - Hi!
Such gorgeous vegetables!
You missed your calling.
I wanted to be a glazier.
Glazier!
- Not even French. - Is so French!
Want this?
Take it easy, Jacqueline.
Where'd you hear that?
At church.
It's beautiful.
I can get him a job at Pyrex. I know the accountant.
Not bowls, I like stained glass.
Stained glass isn't a job.
Something wrong?
Don't touch my kid!
Shut it.
It's not fit to eat.
What? Say you're sorry!
Sorry for what?
Here!
Want another one?
Shoveling your shit?
Cleaning out my shit. Get out of my house!
Move, I can't see the TV.
Get your trash and get out!
Make it fast!
Dammit to hell! Are you crazy?
Out! I'm counting to three!
If I go, I won't come back!
Two...
Jacqueline, stop! I'm sorry!
Goddamn, she's insane!
Motherfucker!
You'll be sorry!
She's crazy!
You'll hear from me!
I'll get you!
You'll get what's coming!
Hi, Jackie. Hi, kid.
Mr. Mayor. What brings you?
- You don't answer your phone. - Phone's cut off.
Some fellow named Gardini called my office about a trailer
in your possession...
He wants it back.
He's welcome to drop by.
He's living here, I'm told?
Used to.
What line of work is he in?
Hitting my kid.
And me.
Want to file a complaint?
I take care of myself.
You didn't threaten him?
Who, me?
No.
Well, that's that. Goodbye, Jackie.
Goodbye, Mr. Mayor.
Have a pitchfork by any chance?
Don't own one.
How long have we known each other?
Been a while.
Don't do anything stupid.
No.
- What about fertilizer? - What about it?
Yes, fertilizer.
Fertilizer, fertilizer...
You can stuff the soil full of it,
but if the earth's bad, it stays bad.
Maybe you'll get 4 or 5 puny potatoes.
But if your soil's black, moist and clumpy,
and sticks together in your hand,
that earth will give you all she's got.
No need for fertilizer.
What is it?
You're a good man, Germain.
Thanks for these marvels.
I'll need a wheelbarrow to get them home.
I'll help you. Where do you live?
The Poplars,
the retirement home on the edge of town.
An old lady my mother used to know lived there.
Yeah...
She'd play scrabble and chew on the letters.
One day she swallowed a "z" and died.
No. I'm so sorry, Germain.
It's very sad.
My thoughts are with that woman.
What an unfortunate accident.
Personally, I'm very happy in this home.
The ambiance is nice,
the staff is attentive.
But you know,
aging is a burden,
especially for other people.
One good thing about aging is when things get you down,
you know it won't last long.
I keep thinking about a sentence in the book we started.
He says: "howling at your mother's grave like a dog."
Are you sure?
Yes, absolutely sure.
Howling at your mother's grave like a dog...
Here it is. Yes, you're right.
"You always come howling to your mother's grave,
like an abandoned dog."
Yes, that's it.
Germain, you impress me.
You have an excellent aural memory.
No, I just remember what I hear.
"It's hard to be so adored, so young, at such a tender age.
It creates expectations."
What about me?
- I'd like to hear. - Excuse me. How silly of me.
I'm sorry.
"It's hard to be so adored, so young, at such a tender age.
It creates expectations.
One searches, hopes, waits.
When it comes to maternal love,
at dawn life makes a promise that it can never keep."
That's the title.
"Promise at Dawn".
Because from the start,
life makes promises it can't keep.
That's exactly right.
There's maternal love and after...
After, "when a woman takes you into her arms,
and holds you tight,
it's nothing but condolences.
You always come howling to your mother's grave,
like an abandoned dog."
There it is.
"Never again, never again, never again...
will those sweet arms circle around your neck,
those gentle lips speak to you of love."
According to the author,
Romain Gary who adored his mother.
You mean, the story isn't made up?
No, it's his life story.
What if the opposite were true?
The opposite?
Yes...
If his mother didn't love him, what would've happened?
I don't know.
If a child doesn't get enough love,
everything's left to be discovered. Don't you think?
I don't know about that.
I don't know.
Is your mother still living?
Oh, yes!
How did she treat you, when you were a kid?
She didn't give a damn.
And now?
She still doesn't.
She treats me like nothing.
She's nobody to me.
What you're saying is terrible.
A mother's indifference is awful.
Yes,
like Jojo says, she's not maternal.
She was never maternal.
For her, I was a mistake,
an accident on July 14th...
Just a bang.
- What's your name? - Jackie.
Jackie.
These leeks...
I've had it with these leeks!
Leeks!
What's gotten into you?
What are you doing?
Go back to your cave!
What are you doing?
Nothing.
- What are you doing? - I didn't do anything.
She's starting to worry me.
Today, she pulled up my leeks and threw them at me.
She wanted to paint the cat.
Depends on the color.
Your hair's changed. Looks good.
I didn't change a thing.
- Can you put her in a home? - Who?
Who? Not Francine, your mother.
She won't go.
Force her.
Just try. She'll prick you with a pitchfork.
OK, no thanks.
She's his mom. You only get one.
One's enough for me.
She's not so bad.
She's losing it...
She's getting soft in the head.
Watch it. She's my mom!
- Show some respect. - Just kidding.
Imagine, when I'm her age I'll be stuck with you morons.
Thanks, Francine.
I like when you're at my last stop.
Do you like meatloaf?
You should know, I like everything you do.
My sweetie pie.
Careful.
Will you stay over?
Why not?
Can we make a baby tonight?
Lots, if you want.
I'm serious.
What kind of father could I be?
I can't even put three words together.
I'm a loser.
What could I give a child?
Love.
How is Francine?
What do you think?
- Blubbering. - Shit.
Stephanie may be young, but she's a royal pain in the neck.
Francine's a pain, too. But I know her.
- What would you do? - I'm not you.
It's hard being me.
Either way,
you always come howling to your mother's grave.
That is so true. You're right.
Coming from a game of golf?
No.
It's for you.
- For me? - Wait a moment.
- What is it? - Here it is.
Open it.
A dictionary.
As you can see, it's not new.
- I've used it a lot. - I see.
You don't need it. You're a pro.
No, not at all.
But I'm too old to travel.
With a dictionary, you travel from one word to the next.
You get lost in a maze...
You pause, you dream...
Do you like it?
Very much.
Say, Germain,
it seems we haven't read anything since "Promise at Dawn".
That's right.
What would you enjoy now?
I don't know, perhaps an adventure story,
a detective novel?
Let's see...
The Amazon Indians.
Why?
When I was a kid, I had a comic book about them.
What a great life.
They were half-naked with a little cover on their...
Genitals.
Yes, that's right.
They'd hang around, play the flute, drink and smoke joints.
And all those girls showing off their boobs.
And just a little feather over...
I've just the thing in my library.
A novel.
Yes, a novel. But you'll have to come to my place.
- When I say, "my place"... - I don't want to be a bother.
A bother? Not at all.
Let's say Tuesday, for tea.
Tea?
OK, tea it is.
You have to spell a word to find it.
Right, Jeremy?
Let's see. "Labyrinth".
L, A...
Labyrinth?
L, A, B...
B, I, N...
One R or two?
What do you think?
How would you write it?
It's not even here.
Let's look up people's names.
Marguerite.
with one T.
Name of a flower.
Some detail.
Thanks for the information. Hear that?
Annette...
That's not how it's spelled.
It means fennel.
Imagine that.
Let's look up Germain.
What's this other Germain.
G, E, R...
Here it is.
"One: A first cousin, etc."
OK.
"Two: inhabitant of Germany
Bur... Burgonde.
Frank,
Goth,
Lombard,
Saxon, Teuton, Vandal."
Yes, my dear, Vandal.
We're not alone.
My little Jeremy...
Let's look up "tomato", and then we'll go to bed.
Tomato, tomato...
Here it is... What?
"So... la... na... ceous.
Solanaceous for tomatoes. See Olivette."
That's the only one they have?
What about the Marmande? And the St. Pierre?
Where's the Bell Star, while I'm at it?
They're out of season?
Let's look up "Solonaceous".
"Family of plants... dicolte... dicolde..."
Shit! Goddammit, it's unbelievable!
You're right to run away. It's Chinese.
Words are missing. And then there are too many words.
It's not for us.
I'll give it back to Margueritte.
I brought your laundry.
See you tonight.
What did you say?
What is it?
Oh, my shirts.
Such rotten weather.
And we pay all that tax.
That's equality. It rains on everyone.
- Who are the flowers for? - Not you.
Let's see.
- 4, 5, 6. - Look at you!
Are your shirts from Tutti Frutti?
- Lay off. Give us a break. - Yeah.
Did you see the rec hall?
Graffiti everywhere. Those assholes.
Who did it?
Little twerps, as usual.
We just repainted.
What are you drinking?
Strawberry soda.
The little vandals.
- Vandals, Teutons, Lombards... - Louts, not Lombards.
It's like saying Burgondes, Franks, Goths.
- What else? - I don't know.
Saxons, Teutons...
Vandals.
You're getting annoying!
Where do you get this stuff?
It's not rocket science.
- Is that a dictionary? - Don't touch!
I'll kill you!
What's going on?
Don't come here if you're always fighting!
How are you, Youss?
Hello, Germain.
Hey, Youssef.
Nice work, Youss.
I didn't ask for soggy bread.
Dry them off, and you too.
- He's back with her? - It's not his twin.
- That's why she... - Yes.
See, Francine. Like I said...
Old casseroles--
What's with you?
You're sick. Get yourself some help.
I was saying, Francine--
You don't say another word.
If you can't talk...
Let's play.
THE POPLARS
Hello, Ma'am.
I'm here for Margueritte.
What's her last name? There are a lot.
Margueritte with two Ts.
Mrs. Van de Veld.
Have an appointment?
Yes, for some tea.
First floor, at the end of the hall.
- Thank you. - My pleasure.
Oh, Germain.
From my garden.
Thank you. Flowers from your garden.
Come in.
You travel with your dictionary?
No, I'm giving it back because there's no point.
- It's useless. - Useless?
Since I can't spell labyrinth and other words, I can't find them.
When I find them, I don't agree.
Like in my field,
varieties of tomatoes...
there's only one... the Olivette!
Others don't grow in your dictionary.
I agree, Germain.
It's very incomplete.
I looked up "crabster", and I'm still looking. It's not there.
See?
How rude. I didn't ask you to sit.
No, not there.
There.
It's too late for me.
They don't need to cut down trees in the Amazon
to make dictionaries for dummies like me.
It's like giving glasses to a near-sighted person.
You see too much, all the flaws,
all the weaknesses.
I tried to learn with you,
but it just hurts.
It was better before, when things were blurry.
I'll make some tea.
It hurts me to hear you talk this way.
Is that you?
- In the picture? - Yes.
Well, well...
Didn't have much more meat on you.
Where were you camping?
It was in Zaire. In the Congo, if you will.
I was sent on a medical mission by the WHO.
What's the WHO?
The World Health Organization.
Give that to me.
I'll give you a hand.
So you were an intellectual.
Oh no,
let's just say I was a scientist.
May I serve you?
Thanks. Not too much.
- It's pretty nice here. - Yes,
but expensive.
My nephew helps out... but who knows how much longer?
His wife doesn't approve.
So, we're giving up?
Giving up, what?
Our Amazon Indians.
I found this book by Sepulveda,
a Chilean author.
It's a story of an indigenous people in a distant land
wrongly accused of murdering a white hunter.
In truth, the real killer
is a majestic panther.
Oh well,
let's have our Indians return to their forest.
Hold on, what's your book called?
"The Old Man Who Read Love Stories".
"Queasy, he stood and brandished his machete with both hands,
and awaited the final combat.
Above him, the female wagged her tail wildly,
her little ears quivered,
picking up all the forest sounds.
But she didn't attack.
Surprised, the old man gently reached for his rifle.
Why won't you attack?
What's the game?
He released the firing pin and took aim.
At this distance,
he couldn't miss."
Then what happened?
Next time, Germain.
You're tired.
Well, I guess after today,
I don't think I'll be reading to you much more.
Why?
I can't see well anymore.
I have macular degeneration which comes with old age.
You get spots in the center of your eyes.
The spots get worse.
- It's hard to read. - That explains the magnifying glass.
Yes.
Soon, my dear Germain will disappear into shadow.
I won't be able to count pigeons.
Can't they operate?
My sight is dying. You don't operate on death.
And I'll soon need a cane
to walk in the street.
Wait,
I'll handle the cane.
Who were the flowers for?
This morning, I thought they were for me.
I waited all day.
I looked for you at every stop.
Why would I give you flowers?
Yeah,
why?
Who were they for?
I'm not Francine!
I won't accept what Youssef did!
Do you love her?
What's her name?
Her name's Margueritte, with two Ts! I gave her the flowers!
She's 95! I love her!
Are you satisfied?
Are you out of your mind?
Sit down.
Why didn't you tell me?
How could I? Where would I begin?
An old lady who counts pigeons,
a dictionary that calls you fennel,
a rat-infested town. Who'd believe it?
I would have.
You should see her,
so delicate with her elegant feet.
She's like a glass animal in Jean's shop.
The doe in the window.
I could easily break her.
And now,
she sees in gray.
And soon it'll all go black.
Is that fair?
She's going blind?
Yes, she's going blind.
What can I do?
Give her a pair of window-wipers to clear up her vision?
Don't get worked up.
I'm not. What will happen, with her fuzzy vision?
What will happen to all her books?
She lives for her books.
If she stops reading...
You can read to her!
- What? - You'll read to her.
I could never do it.
You have to try.
Let's see.
It's her cane.
It's magnificent.
May I help you?
Yes... I'm looking for a book.
This is the right place.
Do you know a title, or author?
No. I just want a book. That's all.
An essay, a documentary? Fiction?
Well, I'd like...
I don't know... a book with a story.
What type?
Short.
A novel?
A novel would be good.
Not too thick and easy to read.
A novel...
not too thick...
easy to read...
"How did that floating street appear?"
I don't understand it, but it's OK.
- "What sale--" - "What sailor".
Oh, yes.
"What sailor with the help of what architect
had built this in the open Atlantic?
On the sea's surface, above a 6 thousand meter abyss?"
Damn, that's deep.
You know that's 6 kilometers!
Thanks.
That part of the Atlantic's deep.
"That long road... those slate roofs
those...
humble boutiques...
immutable..."
Shit, just great. I've no dictionary.
- Immutable... - It means, it doesn't change.
Like you, when you don't agree, you're immutable.
Immutable...
"How did it remain standing
and not be jostled..."
Jostled?
Yes, that's it. "By the waves."
"Jostled by the waves.
The child thought
she was the only one in the world.
But did she know she was a little girl?"
What don't you understand?
No, well...
That kid seems lost, with nothing, like Margueritte, a lost sparrow.
"As if she were alive and loved,
yet still found herself,
on the verge of death.
A being,
thoroughly deprived,
in the watery solitude
of the deep."
Faster, start again.
"As if she were alive, loved,
yet still on the verge of death,
like a being thoroughly deprived..."
Louder.
- Like when we make love. - What?
Faster and louder, like making love.
Stop, Germain.
What's wrong?
I like doing it, not talking about it.
Go on.
The lovely lady of Cadix with the velvety eyes.
What are you doing?
You're nuts. Give it to me.
Give it to me.
- You're getting me wet. - Leave me alone!
Leave me alone!
I'm warning you, I'll call the police!
That's right. Go inside.
Help!
I'm your mother, dammit!
- Mother, go up. - Let me go!
You're hurting me!
Stop. Watch your head.
You're hurting me, you idiot!
I'm tired. You make me tired!
Lie down.
I'm tired.
I'll make some coffee.
Now, I'll tell you who your father is...
Luis Mariano.
I worked the eye with a soldering iron.
That's why it's black.
Then I rubbed it down, and polished it with a camel cloth.
Then I varnished it.
Isn't it beautiful?
It's not bad.
It's an understatement.
Like saying, you're not so bad looking
to say you're handsome.
It's an understatement.
It's not bad,
means I love it.
I love it, Germain!
Keep your eyes closed. I've another surprise.
Why? What is it?
I said, keep your eyes closed.
"What sailor,
with the help of what architect
was able to build in the high seas of the Atlantic,
above a 6,000 meter abyss."
"Child of the High Seas".
Jules Supervielle. Go on.
"That long road...
those slate roofs
those humble immutable boutiques...
How did it remain standing without being jostled..."
Like it?
Very much.
- Should I go on? - Yes.
Close your eyes.
"The child thought she was the only one in the world.
But did she know she was just a child?"
"Save The World"!
After, give us a round.
Thanks.
Your turn.
Gentlemen...
Look at him.
No rematch?
I don't have time.
You don't have time for your friends?
What's up, Germain?
You hardly drink anymore. You use big words.
You go off. When will it end?
It's true. You've changed.
We liked the old Germain.
He'll soon stop screwing.
I feel bad for Annette.
I don't screw Annette anymore, it's true. We make love.
You're pissed off because I know 5 or 6 new words.
If you don't like it, screw you.
And that's no understatement!
Pick up!
Goddammit.
She left all the lights on.
At least turn out the lights downstairs!
Mom!
Sir, Mr. Chazes is here.
Yes, I forgot about him.
I was expecting you, Mr. Chazes.
My condolences to you. Have a seat.
Let's see now...
Since your mother had no other family,
the house goes to you.
Moreover, the amount of--
The house?
Her house.
My mother rented the house.
She used to rent it.
She had a home reversion scheme with Mr. Blondeau.
She saved her pennies.
She did overtime at the canning plant.
Night and day.
She was right because, bingo...
6 years ago, old man Blondeau died.
Oh, yes...
It was all for you. Didn't she say?
No.
And this box is for you.
I must admit, I haven't opened it.
GERMAIN DESPUIS AND ME JULY 14
Is it your father?
It's my parents.
What's this?
What?
This bit of plastic.
As I said, I haven't opened it,
but by the looks of it...
According to her,
it's your umbilical cord.
Can you imagine...
Never a glance, never a word...
Never...
For years,
she saved up her pennies, just for me.
Can you believe it?
Yes, I can.
What will I do with all this junk?
Except the photo.
- Let's see the photo. - Look.
They were so young and good-looking.
How long were they in love?
A long time...
At least 5 minutes.
I'm pregnant, Germain.
I'm pregnant.
Gentle, gentle...
Careful.
- Stop the bus! - What's up?
I have to tell Margueritte.
Hold on to the box.
See you tonight.
- She left. - What do you mean?
Her family came for her. Her nephew and his wife.
Why?
They couldn't afford it.
- When were they here? - This morning.
Without telling her?
They told us, not her.
- She won't be back. - I don't think so.
They had a truck and took everything. Her furniture, her books...
Do they live far?
No man's land.
Where's that?
North Belgium, near Holland.
I've a number and address.
Did she leave a note for me?
- She left this. - Thanks.
Princess.
Sucker, Peter,
Chicadee, Thief,
Limpy...
Tubby, you've come back.
Margueritte...
Hello. I've come to see Margueritte.
Margueritte's not here.
- You're her nephew? - Yes, but she's not here.
- Where is she? - Who are you?
I'm Germain Chazes. Her friend.
Really?
We helped as much as we could. We couldn't keep her.
We're not loaded.
Where is she?
Honey, do you have the address?
We'll get it.
Mrs. Van de Veld, please.
No, Van de Veit.
Fine, fine.
Is that nice just running off?
- Is that polite? - What a lovely surprise!
Are there wheels on this?
- What are you doing? - There are wheels.
Do you realize, Germain...
This is kidnapping. We didn't fill out any paperwork.
No permission from my family,
or permission to leave...
What an imbroglio!
Imbroglio...
By the time they look up that word, we'll be home.
What do you mean, home?
I meant,
my home.
Germain!
Your sandwiches always look so wonderful.
- Like some? - This time I'll say yes!
- Bon appétit. - Thanks.
It's not a typical love affair But "love" and "tenderness"
Both are there.
Named after a daisy, She lived amidst words,
Surrounded by adjectives
In green fields of verbs
Some force you to yield
But she with soft art Passed through my hard shield
And into my heart
Not always are love stories Just made of love,
Sometimes,
Love is not named But it's love just the same...
This is no typical love affair
I met her on a bench in my local square
She made a little stir, tiny like a bird
With her gentle feathers
She was surrounded by words Some as common as myself
She gave me books, two or three
Their pages have come alive for me.
Don't die now, You've still time, just wait
It's not the hour, my little flower
Give me some more of you
More of the life in you,
Wait...
Not always are love stories Just made of love,
Sometimes love is not named
But it's love just the same.
Subtitles: Pamela Grant
Subtitling: ÉCLAIR VIDÉO - PARIS