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MY GOLDEN DAYS

OUR ARCADIAS

My friend works at the French embassy.

He's returning to Paris.

Paul Dedalus.

Not much, a small container will do.

Mostly books and documents.

Customs won't be a problem.

Diplomatic pouch.

Thank you.

The container will arrive in 3 weeks.

Great.

Once you find a place, call this number.

Give them your address

and they'll deliver your stuff.

I love organized women.

Part of the job, Professor Dedalus.

Sure you want to go back?

I'll miss you.

Handsome Ulysses heads home to Ithaca.

I'm not Ulysses.

No nostalgia for my country.

So? Why go back then?

I guess I had to.

I always knew I'd go back.

I'm having a bad dream.

I'll keep quiet.

Don't talk.

Cast a spell on me.

So I forget you immediately.

Go on.

Vanish.

I'd like to remember you

when I'm a very old lady.

I remember...

I remember...

CHILDHOOD

I remember...

Beat it! Beat it, crazy bitch!

Why are you here?

- I do as I wish, little king. - Entering at night?

400 times you've opened my door!

Stop spying on us!

I can go where I want.

Not our floor! Never again!

Why should I listen to a child?

Stop it! Stop, Paul.

It's my father's home, not yours.

Find a mental home! Ivan has a stick.

Me, a knife!

One step and I'll pierce your heart!

Want to kill me?

Never come up again. I'll tell Dad!

Stop it!

Go, Mom. He'll tell.

You won't say a thing. I'll get you.

Look at my hands. They'll bear your blood.

Stop! You drive me mad!

You're here?

Your brother and sister aren't home?

Paying me a little visit?

Come in.

Use the living room.

Got it all?

This is for drawing.

You can read or copy the pictures.

Will you be staying long?

I can't live at Mom's.

It's not easy with Jeanne.

My great-nephew is here.

Why won't his mother tend to him?

Paul left home.

He'll stay here a bit.

I made you tea.

To Ivan, I owe everything.

He lifts me, I support him.

A body with two heads.

Fucking bike!

Take that!

And that!

We received a complaint!

Your brother took a boy's bike. Wrecked it!

Not on purpose.

- Were you there? - No, sir.

Ivan, did you tell Paul you stole from backpacks?

No.

- What did you steal? - Money.

I'm not my brother's keeper.

What was that?

Who gives a shit?

Not me.

When are you coming home?

When Mom is gone.

I arrived in France in 1950.

My husband was the consul in Marseille.

One day, Sasha received orders to go back

to Moscow.

I told my husband I'd never go back.

There, all I knew was hunger, cold. Deprivation.

Now we go home to be put on trial?

Deportation or death.

My husband said he would obey because he had to.

Men always have to.

And women...

flee.

So my husband left for Moscow all alone.

Where he was tried...

and executed.

God, if You love me,

don't show Yourself. I don't want to see You.

I beg of You, make it so I don't believe in You.

Ivan...

What are you doing here?

I was praying.

Good...

I often pray for your mother.

How is your father? Working again?

Yes. He's on a trip.

Say hello for me.

See these grades?

What kind of son brings such grades to his father?

- Answer. - I don't know.

Don't bring home such grades.

Not to me.

You're not an idiot or an airhead.

But no lazybones here!

Don't stare at me!

You didn't even graduate!

I married your mother.

She was sick. And pregnant.

I worked like a dog for you.

Now I'm alone with you three and I'm sinking.

Don't you see, I'm sinking?

My wife is dead and you'll work.

You should have found another!

I haven't finished with you!

My father would hit me.

I didn't feel a thing.

It doesn't hurt.

I feel nothing.

Seems to be a passport problem.

I don't get it.

I'm tired. I haven't slept.

When were you in France last?

About eight years ago.

Maybe 10.

Address in France?

My brother's house. Eight rue Vauban in Roubaix.

You stay there?

No, I'm moving to Paris.

I start tomorrow at Foreign Affairs.

Colleague...

You're summoned by Intelligence.

Look.

How chic.

So you're a spy?

Not that I know.

So who are you?

I can't remember.

RUSSIA

Paul?

What was the problem with my passport?

There's something worrisome.

You have a homonym in Australia.

We've found another Paul Dedalus.

I guess it's a common name.

Your homonym was born on the same day, in the same place.

Hard to imagine such a coincidence.

So you agree.

Perhaps I'm a victim of identity theft.

May I ask who you are?

I'm not allowed to say.

I have a list of your addresses over 20 years.

You're quite the traveler.

Dushanbe.

Before that,

you were in Bukhara,

Dashoguz...

Atamyrat?

In Turkmenistan.

You lived in Iran in 1995.

Yes, I studied funeral rites in the south for six months.

My head is reeling. I'm a homebody.

I'm an anthropologist. I was doing research.

And now you're back.

We've heard you're starting at Foreign Affairs.

Prestigious ministry.

I speak several languages.

May I ask where you were in 1987?

I don't know.

In France, I guess.

We found a request to renew your ID card

at the consulate in Tel Aviv

in 1987.

I've never been to Israel.

It must be a fake.

Here is the picture

of your twin.

Mr. Dedalus, a French citizen residing in Melbourne.

Were your papers ever stolen?

Not that I know of.

A theft claim, at Russian Customs,

signed by you at 16.

The signature is childlike,

but it's yours.

My trip to Minsk.

You think I'm a communist agent?

Why were you in Minsk?

A high school trip.

A classmate, Zyl, invited me along.

- Zyl? - Marc Zylberberg.

He and his parents were in a group that helped refuseniks.

Perfect.

Still want to meet those guys from Strasbourg?

It's not to chitchat. They have no time to waste.

You can take it off.

Sorry.

Our friends are held captive in the USSR.

They want to go to Israel.

We want to help.

Heard of them?

Mezuravim?

Yes, otkazniks.

Who told you about us?

Serge, at Rosh Hashanah.

And you?

I read about it in the papers but Marc told me.

Your class is going on a trip to Minsk?

- When? - Two weeks.

We have money and papers for friends. Want to help?

Communist parents?

My father is in the Party, but not active.

You can't tell them.

No one.

No one at all.

What's that ribbon?

My mother died.

I'm sorry.

It's been over 5 years.

I know Minsk well.

So I have a few questions to ask you.

Marc, do you smoke?

And does your friend?

Chesterfields or Camels.

Don't smoke American cigarettes there.

You'll be spotted and turned in.

The day you visit the Art Museum...

What if we don't?

They didn't say.

You go to Minsk with a group, you do the museum.

Like it or not.

- One of your chaperones is a comrade. - Who?

No need to know.

Leave the group, get out of your Western clothes.

Go outside, take a streetcar.

There's a stop at the museum. To this station.

Gagarina.

Give them the address, Dimitri.

Here.

Read this.

Octiabraskaya Street.

Number five-seven.

Have a ticket?

No, two round trip tickets for Gagarina.

Give this envelope to the people who greet you.

It contains documents and money.

Then take the same streetcar

back to the museum, find your group.

You got an hour.

Get back before the tour ends.

Twenty five rubles for the streetcar.

Before you go, memorize

address, streetcar station, apartment number.

Are you Jewish?

No, sir.

Want to do this?

Yes.

Why?

Because Marc's my friend.

And the right to self-determination.

What a serious boy.

What's your name?

Paul Dedalus.

Your passport...

Paul, let me ask you something.

Can you leave your passport there?

A real angel face.

That one there

is a real darky.

You won't risk much. Two hours in a precinct.

Can you leave it?

I'll do it.

No problem if you change your mind.

I understand.

Fear is human. You'll feel it there.

Passport or not, be proud for bringing the envelope.

The envelope is important.

What's mezuravim?

Hebrew for "those who refuse".

What was that Russian word I said?

Otkazniks?

"Refusers" or "refused".

You can sew?

Don't tease. It's my great-aunt.

Pierre-Hubert, Camille, passports!

We're reaching East Germany. Passports, please.

Guys, your passports...

Why?

East Germany. Hurry.

When do I get it back?

Plan on running away?

Your passport.

- When do we cross the border? - Forty five minutes.

Customs will be coming through.

They may ask to check your bags.

Yorick?

Customs didn't find the money. They barely looked.

You were two kids.

In Minsk, we snuck out the museum.

Zyl was far more clever. He sized up the place.

I just followed.

...received a gold medal for this work,

part of his final exam at Art School.

"The Triumph of Alexander the Great".

I just slipped your passport into your pocket.

Linger behind, then take the main stairs.

In the basement, in the janitor's room,

two packages, two coats.

Good luck. You have an hour.

Janitor's room. Paul, come.

Take this one.

The lining...

Tear it. Go on, it doesn't matter.

- Where did you get that? - Morning walk.

The streetcar met us at the museum.

It was a long ride.

Then we reached an odd building in the suburbs.

- What name? - No idea.

Good day.

Stairwell B.

Eli sent you?

Ephraim Ilyich. Come in.

Take off your shoes.

This way.

Naoum!

Our guests are here.

Sit down.

Would you like some cake? Black tea?

No, thank you.

So? What have you little lambs brought us?

Oh, Eli... You have a special place in my heart.

Thank you.

Uncle Eli is so nice,

heart full of sugar and spice...

Who's the mute?

- What? - He asked who you are.

Paul.

Here.

What are you doing?

It's for you.

Nathan!

I have a surprise for you.

Look at this. Your visa for Israel.

Come meet the new...

Paul Dedalus.

Which one is my twin?

The one who's afraid.

Like your brother?

Thank you.

Thanks to you both.

Eretz Israel.

Get going!

What about customs?

I'll manage.

What are you two up to? Come here!

Looking for a streetcar.

We're tourists... from France.

Both your passports!

Passports, I said.

Please.

Get lost.

- Okay. - Get lost, I said.

Okay, officer.

Step on it!

We have 15 minutes.

- Hit me now. - What?

We'll say I got mugged, my passport was stolen. Hit me!

I won't hit you. Stop.

Stop it.

What are you doing? Stop that!

I need a black eye!

- Hit me. - Let go.

Let go!

Do it harder.

Do it again harder.

I can't hit you.

Stop!

God damn it!

Fuck.

Shit!

The French group?

Yes.

You have no business here.

Your bus left 20 minutes ago. Where were you?

We got lost.

The police are waiting!

Follow me.

We then went to the hotel.

You come. You stay.

You have to stay.

Why can't Paul come in?

Why did they leave the museum?

Why ask us?

They said they went out for a cigarette!

Calm down.

What did you do?

The lining of his coat is torn!

Paul got mugged by thugs.

They stole his passport.

The teachers covered for us.

We filed a theft claim and came home.

Come.

We'll find a nurse. Does it hurt?

I'm fine.

I felt nothing.

It was heroic.

I'm afraid I didn't realize a thing.

Two French teens weren't at much risk.

What about your friend?

A year later, Marc's parents moved to Lyon.

We lost touch.

But I'm thrilled

my passport helped someone who needed it.

I didn't know I had a twin in Melbourne.

He's dead now.

We have a death certificate from two years ago.

You're pale.

I'm not used to reading my death certificate.

Indeed, you died.

But you're alive now.

Life is strange.

I remember...

I remember...

I seek shards of memories within me. I recall nothing.

Everything is erased,

except three or four snippets...

A stammer.

Excited to see me?

You're no Janet Jackson. Get in anyway.

Getting used to Paris?

It's okay.

Fuckable coeds?

What about sophomore girls?

All ugly pigs. I should have studied pharmacy.

Poor you.

I don't want to see your dad.

Away this weekend.

That's why you came!

I came because I came.

It's Kovalki.

What the hell?

Why is he here?

You weren't supposed to be home.

I came to visit certain friends.

Which friends? Kovalki?

So? What's wrong with him?

Kovalki isn't worth the trip?

You are.

You came back to be a pain.

Good girls don't smoke in public.

Yeah, right.

Here. Keep the pack.

Since when are you rich?

Scaphoid, lunatum,

pyramidal,

trapezoid, capitate...

and the metacarpal bones.

Ever dissected a cadaver?

- Sure. - How gross.

Man or woman?

Both.

You'll never have sex or know love.

Nope.

Says you.

What do you do in Paris?

Bachelor's in Anthropology.

Studying himself.

Paris is cool.

Getting used to it?

Not any more talkative.

I cultivate my mystery.

Mysterious, my ass. Join her waiting list.

Thug style... poor man's thug.

What's this? Your mom agreed?

She doesn't know.

Come on, lovers.

Get moving.

- I call front. - See you there!

Come on, please.

Esther, from my sister's class.

I know.

Don't you think I saw you following me?

Yes, I think you saw.

My eyes devour you.

I always have that effect.

Really?

Yeah. I do that to guys.

You noticed me two years ago. Two years, right?

You can't forget me.

You never will.

Really?

I have that effect.

- Why? - Because I'm exceptional.

Not like those dumb bitches...

Penelope and my sister.

What?

I'm no pickup artist.

I see.

I always wondered what guys said to pick you up.

I watch you. They say things.

You laugh.

What can they say that's so amusing?

They talk crap. That's what's funny.

It's really hard to talk crap.

Pickup artists impress me.

I'm pretty boring.

I scare you?

Yes.

No.

Think I'm pretty?

Yeah, I do.

I go into shock whenever I see you.

I don't think I'm pretty.

But I got a nice ass.

Hottest ass in this school.

First you look at a girl's ass,

the face afterwards.

I take in your ass and eyes together.

Your breasts too.

I hear you're not too free.

- Three hubbies. - I'm not married.

You're seeing three guys.

- Who? - Michel-whatever with glasses.

No... he's over with.

He doesn't know it's over over, but it's over.

I bet you laughed.

Yeah, I did. He's funny.

He's so unfunny, Michel what's-his-name.

Wildly pretentious.

He finds wit in his blandness.

Why not dump him?

I just didn't.

Soccer player too.

- Really handsome. - Yes, I love him.

Harder and harder. I'm a bad talker, not handsome.

I don't crack jokes.

I really can't win.

Yes.

An older guy too.

It was a while ago. No older than you.

Yes, a little older.

He's way out of my league.

Your three hubbies get jealous?

It's fine.

I get jealous.

If they touch another girl, she's dead.

I'll be pathetic.

Will you come over and play Go?

Play what?

A Chinese game. I can teach you.

I so never heard of it, I already forget the name.

So you won't come play Go?

Yes, I'd love to.

This afternoon?

So long.

Why did God order Abraham to kill his son

if he didn't want him to?

So Abraham would obey.

Even without obeying he'd have fulfilled God's will.

So why?

I don't know.

But it proves God's will is always done.

So why pray "His will be done"?

Ivan...

No idea.

Maybe it's to be polite.

Like teachers who say "please" to give orders.

No man can hinder God's will.

God is Almighty. He wants man's good.

Man can't want his own harm.

I understand.

I want to leave.

- Where? - Anywhere.

I wish I were 10 years older.

- Husband and kids? - No way.

- I want to travel. - Where?

North, south. My life here hasn't started.

What if we never get happier?

Hello.

You want some tea?

Befriending my sister?

You're tough. You like no one.

I don't dislike girls. They dislike me.

Besides you, guys like me.

Still want to play Go?

It's why I came. Your sister's blabber hurts my boobs.

This is the goban.

These are the stones.

We each place one, taking turns.

Once down, they stay put.

The goal is to form territories

by creating borders with the stones.

I can't remember it all at once.

So we'll have to meet again.

Often?

Yes, very frequently.

To play Go?

For two years you'll be clumsy, but gradually...

But...

I won't get bored?

It's extremely amusing.

Your sister can't believe I'm here. She's disgusted.

Coming to tomorrow's party?

I'm not sure I'm free. We'll see.

Give it to me.

Look.

It's Mom's necklace. Dad gave it to me.

It's nice.

Remember?

Not good memories.

I get scared since you left.

Dad's never home. Ivan gets back late.

What's he doing?

Guess.

Praying-

Ivan wants to do a hold-up.

A hold-up?

- Alone? - Mehdi made blueprints.

- Blueprints? - For the bank.

In Roubaix.

They staked it out three times.

Look.

Fuck!

What an awful idea.

- Did you tell Dad? - I was waiting for you.

You okay?

What were you thinking about?

Thanking Him.

Dammit, stop with your prayers! I swear they serve no purpose!

Give me that rosary.

Delphine says you're doing a holdup?

Need money?

It's like high school chemistry.

Three stakeouts with Mehdi doesn't mean you can rob a bank.

We've prepared all month.

I even bought a gun.

I know you bought a gun! I know.

Ivan, I'm not happy about this.

Mehdi doesn't yell at you?

Why don't you read?

I read... the Bible.

Other stuff. You always lent me books before.

You can't attack anyone with that gun.

What's got into you?

I wasn't really going to do it.

Give it back.

- "Five Studies... - In Ethnology".

It's taking ages. Unending.

His parents are pains.

Delphine, do something.

Get out. Her niece will calm her down.

Tell her I say hi, that we all do.

Why me?

Because you love me.

- I won't go. - Me neither.

Here he comes.

Move your shit.

- Hey, cuz. - Hey guys.

- For Penelope. - Sure.

- Your treat? - For us two.

Here's 60.

Don't wait. I'll walk home.

Hey, cuz.

So you're back?

For the weekend.

- How's the family? - Everyone's fine.

Where can I find Francis Belkacem?

You buying?

Here.

For Francis.

Six bars of hash?

Three hundred seems fair.

Depends what you do with it. Smoking it all?

I don't smoke. For friends.

For resale.

I don't sell. It's for a party.

Why 300? You'll lower my prices.

Or I raise the price.

I make no profit.

Where's the party? Youssef, where?

No idea.

Why don't I come?

I'll come equipped. Bigger profit.

Any Arabs coming?

I'm not a competitor.

I won't sell in the projects. Enough dealers.

There will be no dealers at this party.

You'll go for me since they don't like Arabs.

You can deal for me.

Not interested. I don't sell.

I'm kidding. Give me your 300 and beat it.

Youssef, six bars.

You sold my brother this.

Ivan is acting weird.

We won't be needing the revolver.

It's not Welfare here.

Keep the money. No bad blood.

- Ivan will stop bothering you. - No bother, cuz.

No mention of a certain girl you invited?

No, no mention.

With Paul, no girl talk.

By superstition.

Esther... Is she coming?

Already taken.

Classy.

Killer.

- Anyone there? - Occupied.

Give us the bathroom, bridesmaids!

Five minutes.

- Ten minutes. - Fifteen.

Own up to hairlessness.

No alcohol, no joints.

You do because you're depressive. I'm happy.

Paul Dedalus is happy.

- Paul never lies. - Never.

He's so gloomy.

Yeah, so gloomy.

I'm happy in my own way.

It doesn't always show, but okay.

We're constantly approaching God.

You're like Ivan.

Not his God, an infinity of happy life.

You live in fear of straying.

I'm not concerned. I'm an atheist.

You don't know what you're saying.

See? He speaks the truth.

Your soul is tiny. And terrified.

Esther!

- You did yourself up. - See?

You look real dumb.

Go on.

- She came for you. - Penelope!

Shall I wait in your room?

You're drunk, dear. You deserve better.

Wrong... I'm not drunk.

Why didn't the bitch come alone?

I can't believe she brought someone.

Play.

Who's he? You know him?

Should I do something?

Nothing at all.

You're back?

I didn't know. It's not too noisy?

I'm glad there are people here.

How is Paul? He's back from Paris?

He never tells us. Chopped off his tongue.

They're having fun?

I think so.

What about Ivan?

He's choosing the music.

Nice.

- You don't need anything? - I'm fine. I'm great.

Come here.

And you? Why did you come up,

No boyfriend downstairs?

Not really.

That means you have several.

Dad, why am I ugly?

Have you lost your mind?

You're not ugly. You're very pretty.

I know I'm not pretty. It's hard being ugly.

People always say I'm nice, or smart,

to avoid saying ugly.

Hold on...

Is there a boy down there you like?

Look no further. That's why you have no boyfriend.

Brothers take up lots of space.

A little.

Patience.

Just be patient.

About your girlfriend, can I...

who?

Guess.

I don't know.

Penelope.

Tonight I'll go out with her.

Done with her?

Asking my permission?

She doesn't want me. Tell her.

Tell her what?

To sleep with me.

Should I hold your dick, cousin?

You're revolting.

- Let's go. They're kids. - Not yet.

Let's go to a club.

Forget your scuzzy club.

Stop acting clingy.

I hate seeing you dance. It's embarrassing.

- It makes me ashamed. - Of me?

Yes.

Okay, whatever...

Your boyfriend Michel left.

Clubbing with friends.

You didn't want to go?

I'd be upset if you had problems.

I won't have any.

At the party, Esther danced with other boys.

She looked at Paul, he looked at her.

On the couch she murmured to Delphine and Penelope.

- Dance? - That's a noyl.

- What? - "Not On Your Life". Piss off!

When she put on her coat,

Paul was there waiting.

Going home?

Can I walk you?

He asked if he could walk her home.

It was already daybreak.

I have no mother.

She died when I was 11. The date means little to me.

When I was 16, I had a good friend, Marc Zylberberg.

We went to Russia together.

They moved to Lyon. Never saw him again.

I have no idea what else to talk about.

Know I had a breakdown?

I knew.

I spent three months in a sanatorium.

I felt such shame.

What was it like?

Ridiculous.

Art therapy, discussions with interns...

Then back to high school. Kovalki helped with Math.

I graduated.

Were you better?

I was never sick.

It was a fit?

Yes, a fit of despair.

See, I'm not that great a deal.

Your parents don't interest me.

I know.

That's fine.

Brothers or sisters?

I'm an only child.

And your parents?

I'm the apple of their eyes.

It's here.

You're ice cold.

I go to Paris tomorrow.

Will you call me?

Will you write?

Good bye.

Once more, just to see.

Have you ever been loved more than life?

It's how I'll love you.

Goodbye.

Paul kissed Esther at her parents' door.

Then he walked back home alone.

There are guys out there for you.

Come look.

They came to beat you up.

The blond one dated Esther.

Need my help?

I'll be fine.

You walked Esther home last night?

Sorry, you're almost history.

You screwed her?

Ask her. But I think you annoy her.

I don't even know you and I'm annoyed.

That fucking hurt!

Bring him in.

Sit down.

You okay, Paul?

I felt nothing.

Should I talk to Esther?

Ask her to write me.

I'd like to see Pr. Behanzin.

Got an appointment?

No, I don't.

The professor cannot be disturbed.

I came from Lille University. Not on a whim.

For two years I've wanted to meet the professor.

My future depends on it.

One minute.

I went to another university for administrative reasons.

I came to Paris to study with you.

Why?

Representation of Time and Space in Mina-Gen in Benin.

That book...

- Have you read Levi-Strauss? - A bit.

Elementary Structures of Kinship?

I read that one.

Go have a seat and draw me a kinship structure.

You know Greek...

Why not?

Because I didn't study Greek.

Yes, but why?

I want to go to Benin.

I guess I had enough trouble at school.

I can't admit you to a course you're unable to follow.

You need one bad seed.

Meaning?

- Your students are brilliant. - Indeed.

I can be the least brilliant to reassure them.

In three weeks

give me a translation

of the first page.

We'll see how you work.

But I can't take you as a student.

So I come back...

Monday, same time and place.

Good bye.

What's wrong?

During the week, Paul is in Paris. Poor.

He sleeps mostly in youth hostels

and has to lug his valise to school.

Will you have a free bed tonight?

There's an English group coming. Wednesday, maybe.

Any mail for me?

- Name? - Dedalus.

I'll check.

Here.

- May I have coffee? - Help yourself.

Paul, today, Monday, I got by on my own.

I'm all too aware you're gone.

I went by your place. Your sister is still dumb.

When you're away, I'm ignored.

I feel anonymous, nothing to tell them or do with them.

I lost my temper. They thought it was my hostile nature.

I keep surprising them.

Esther,

you exist so much

like a mountain.

My existence, the world around me, seems aquiver.

So I'm reassured.

I don't care whether you want me.

Your existence proves I'm not stuck in a dream.

In you, at your feet,

I place my faith.

It's like the Wall is falling by itself.

It's incredible.

Paul, look. Why do you still seem sad?

I am sad.

What do you mean? It's joyful.

I see my childhood ending.

His trip to Russia.

He went to Minsk with his friend...

Zylberberg.

They came back two days late. Paul had a black eye.

A black eye! Why? Where is it, my hero?

He never told us.

It's a secret.

Where can I find her?

You know, I think Esther found someone else.

I figured.

Careful, big brother.

He's not the guy who hit on you?

You asked him to come?

You okay?

- Lay off! - Relax.

Coming?

Are you deaf? I said I'm staying.

Stay with your prick.

I'm out of here.

You're not coming?

Bye, Esther!

You coming, dummy?

Here, my entire week.

When I ran out of stuff to say, I recopied Stevenson.

I'll read it.

Later.

Take me.

Too much light.

- Your mother? - Yes.

She was beautiful.

I don't know.

My friend...

my friend...

Did you go off once?

- Twice? - Did I what?

Go off.

Men come, but women go off.

How many times did you go off?

I refuse to answer.

Zero? Once?

More. Quiet now.

Hello, sir.

Excuse me.

Miss...

Morning.

Your father.

I love this painting.

Do I look like it?

I don't look like it?

Since you like your painting.

Yes!

Why?

You're full of it.

Here's why it looks like you and why you're wonderful.

It was painted by Hubert Robert, 18th century.

An Italian landscape,

seemingly abandoned.

Ruins gnaw at it, as if traversed by a tempest of time.

You're what ravaged the columns.

Wild, violent.

I am...

in the red cape, a dot red like your mouth.

You're cheerful too like these two women.

Afar, fountain water: you, escaping my grasp.

Your chin, simple and straight, like a text in Latin.

But which is violent like Acteon.

I'm Acteon, torn asunder by dogs.

And you're Diana.

But gentle too, like Venus.

Or like Nausicaa, who greets Ulysses,

naked, battered, after the other girls run off.

Here's the top of the painting,

your forehead, eyebrows,

and your cerulean eyes.

Your features contain the meaning of the world.

Smooth talker.

Thanks!

But you mean it?

- What? - That I'm exceptional.

Yes, you are.

Then I love you.

Sometimes Paul hid and spent the night there.

He'd linger in the library, get invited by strangers.

His is a lonely life.

Sorry to bother.

I usually sleep at a hostel but it's full.

I hear you have a spare bed.

Take off your coat.

Looking at Trotsky?

A towel too.

When do you wake up?

Same as you.

Seven.

Goodnight.

Dear Paul, I missed you so I slept at your place.

Your father was away. Your sister greeted me coolly.

I didn't give a shit.

Your father's bed is a pigsty.

I ate a peach and wiped my fingers on the sheets.

Your dad would die

to see the girl he despises lolling in his bed.

May he go in peace.

I care as little for him as he for me.

In the same booth?

No, I'm by the park.

What do you see?

Glistening, wet sidewalks.

A carriage door with guard stones.

Passersby too.

I can't imagine you.

Across, an empty bus stop and the café with my stuff.

You okay, honey?

Is it Paul?

When are you coming? Give me a date. I'll count down.

- I can't afford the train. - I'll pay.

I don't want your money.

- Why not hitchhike? - Never again!

I'm sick of perverts who stop because I'm 19.

After seeing your fifth cock, enough!

Esther, I just hung up. I'm surprised to be writing.

When will I see you?

I cannot accept that my doubts empoison you.

I want you to grab onto me.

Would I like it? I don't know. It scares me.

You want to grab onto me. I feel guilty that I'm not solid enough.

As I write this I think: “solid idiot“.

So scared of being an idiot, I never saw to my solidity.

I'd hate being frail too.

Frail I am not.

I can'! offer you my solidity. I owe it to myself.

I can offer you only my lightness.

I admire your every smile, your every rebuff.

I realize my offer is flimsy.

You make me laugh.

Furious, unpleasant, exquisite: you always make me laugh.

I love you only with lightness, yet I'm so heavy.

Gloomy, as you all said at the party.

You were right.

I don't want you to wait.

Don't count on me. My life is too austere for that.

Paul.

Hey, Paul. Don't worry.

Your remorse gets in your way. I'm simpler.

Simply, I'm happy when I see you.

Coming of Age in Samoa

One day Paul met Gilberte near the Sorbonne.

She had put him up once.

She suggested lunch. Her boyfriend was away.

Great!

Your scarf!

It's not a scarf.

I'll get the zipper changed.

Gilberte was older.

This was against Paul's principles.

So...

you get invited over and vanish?

I had a terrible night's sleep on your couch.

- Terrible? - Yes, so I never thanked you.

But she had an unusual body.

They had pasta, then ended up in bed.

Come...

Paul and Gilberte would meet behind her boyfriend's back.

The situation was squalid.

Paul mentioned his liaison to Esther, seeking acceptance.

She accepted.

My brave little soldier...

Some evenings, Paul studied at her place

which seemed spacious.

Meaning...

But what mood is it?

Optative mood.

Half subjunctive, half conditional.

"Would that you not seduce my spouse".

Phone.

Gilberte and her lover had a phone.

Esther called Paul at his mistress'.

Gilberte here. Esther!

Esther would sign her letters: "Regards to Gilberte

Without irony, the women became allies.

He's doing his Greek.

Have a good week?

Life is strange, thought Paul.

Now Paul lives in a maid's room.

He can see the Eiffel tower.

Sometimes Esther sends pictures.

One of her belly, another of her legs.

One with a hat.

She doesn't even try. Paul likes this.

Have you finished?

Not yet.

May I ask who are your parents?

My mother killed herself when I was 11.

It was a logical end. Expected.

If you ask me.

Is your father alive?

Yes, I see little of him.

What does he do?

He sells stuff. Sales rep for one thing or another.

Why don't you see him often?

He never mentions work.

When he comes back home...

He's depressive since his wife died.

He already was long before.

I don't want to hear about his depression.

The truth is, I don't see him because I can't help.

Your parents?

They have the key.

Who is it?

Hello, ma'am!

Hello. Is Robert there?

It's your mom.

Pain in the ass.

I want Robert to come down... now.

He's coming.

I won't leave. It's vacation and Saturday night!

Don't make me come up! Georges is here. We're waiting!

It's barely ten o'clock. Be nice for once!

Mind your own business!

I take no advice from brats like you.

You're so damned stubborn!

Can you talk to her?

- Nothing to say. - She's a lunatic.

There's no talking to her.

You're too possessive, Mrs. Christian!

Spare me that tone! You could be my daughter.

Thank God I'm not!

You are so impolite!

I'll wash out your mouth with soap!

Your coat.

Give me his coat!

What the hell? I won't steal it!

Where's his coat?

Here!

Your boys will soon dump you!

Little hussy!

Butt the hell out!

Shut up! Please, just shut up.

Yell at home, not here.

Your parents know you run a brothel?

How vulgar! Scram or I'll call the cops!

All Roubaix knows you're a slut. A real mineshaft!

You're embarrassing me!

Robert!

He's running off!

He's running off!

Don't run him over.

Don't run him over!

Go away!

Come back right now!

Come back or a valise awaits you!

Hear me? Your valise!

You kill me!

This kid kills me!

Bob!

Where are you?

Bob, it's Ivan!

I'm here.

I found him.

I'm fucking freezing!

You'll catch cold. What's got into you?

That morning, when Bob went home,

he found a valise waiting.

The shutters were down.

Mom! Fuck!

Bob took his bag, went to his cousins'

and asked if he could move in.

Bob?

- Live here now? - It's you.

My parents kicked me out.

Tough luck.

Ivan isn't screwing up?

Your brother's doing fine.

What about Delphine?

Scoop of the century.

Dating a senior. They went searching for her vagina.

What?

They went away for a weekend...

She wanted sex but couldn't find her vagina.

She's found it since. She's thrilled.

- Cool. - Want the bed?

I'll drop off my stuff and go to Esther's.

What?

The other scoop. I think I screwed up.

How so?

We sort of slept together.

No way!

What a pain! I come home, you're in my room,

sleep with my girl!

- She loves only you. - I know.

Pity fuck.

Obviously she took pity.

I'm a little angry. It's exasperating.

Go see your father.

Rose?

Yes, honey?

Aren't you dead?

Yes.

I am dead.

So I'm dead too?

I don't think so.

Don't you live in Paris now?

Yes, I came to pay you a little visit.

How nice.

But help your father.

Still mourning his wife.

I wonder if he'll ever remarry.

He must be very lonely.

I never loved my mother.

No.

Esther?

I'm glad you're here.

- What's wrong? - Nothing.

That's not true. Something's wrong. Look at you.

I don't know.

What did you do today?

I can't say. I'm very anxious.

Why?

I can't explain.

Don't explain, just say it. Have dark thoughts?

I was scared you'd die.

I'm not at all dead.

I thought you'd die. It scares me.

How silly. Death doesn't scare me. I am a rock.

So you can lean on me.

You're the frail one.

You eat nothing, smoke tons. You have asthma.

I thought of my dead grandmother.

One day it will all end.

Then it's over. It's terrifying.

But...

you're scared I'll die or you will?

I'm dumb.

I thought about it all day. Now I'm anxious.

It must be my grandma.

- You miss her? - No.

A little. But it scares me.

It's over now.

What did you do all day?

I can't say.

- Why not? - I'm ashamed.

- About? - You think I'm a downer.

What did you do?

I didn't go out.

- Why not, if you want to? - I don't.

Bullshit. You're in tears, tense.

Normal, you don't go out.

- Why go out? - I don't know. See friends.

I have no friends.

Try Penelope and my sister.

They don't like me.

Go easier on them.

I couldn't care less. Two bitches.

Cool. You'll have friends galore.

See your friends. Fuck off! You're free.

Yeah, I'd like to come across as normal to others.

- Ashamed of me? - Yes!

Not of you. I don't want to feel shame myself.

Whenever we go out, either you get laid or diss Delphine.

Not nice to treat my family like shit.

I don't like talking to them.

I'm impolite with no one.

I don't care about your friends and family.

I feel my cock hard against your cheeks.

Come.

I want you to stay.

I know.

I want you to stay.

I don't want you to go.

If you do, I'll die.

You won't die.

I think so.

I'll suffocate.

I'm suffocating.

It's not our first time apart.

I'm scared when you're gone.

Every departure was painful.

Esther sobbed. She was scared when he was gone.

Jean-Pierre or Bob would accompany her, disconsolate.

I'm scared when you're gone.

See a movie with Jean-Pierre.

I don't want to talk to him.

I don't want you to go. Don't leave me alone.

Are you getting on?

- I can't. - I'll write tonight.

Please, Miss.

Piss off! Step back!

Step back and fuck off! Beat it!

Stop! I have to go.

I have to go now. I'm sorry.

Stop.

You'll be fine.

I'm writing to tell you something singular about Jean-Pierre.

After dropping you off, we spoke in the car.

Someone sadder than me for once.

- The two rejects. - You're not rejected.

Since Paris, Paul's grown distant. Inevitable.

No, Paul is your friend.

It's since you began dating.

No blame. I love you both.

He doesn't visit me now. Just you.

I weigh on him. Provincial ball and chain.

You're brooding.

I brood too.

It's a pattern. All my friends will leave.

Paul today. Next it'll be you. Then Bob, then Ivan.

I'll end up alone here.

Roubaix is my curse.

Keeper of the childhood which you're all done with.

He was freaking out.

He feared the end of your friendship,

that you'd lost interest in him.

He sees a dark future. His friends gone,

he'll bum around Roubaix alone.

He said he needed you.

He said not to mention it, but I must tell you he cried.

It was unique and scary: JP cried in my arms.

Just awful. What can be done?

He seems better for now, but it eats at him.

That's my anecdote.

It shook me up.

- Do you like music? - A lot.

You may put on an album.

- I came to save you. - Why save me?

You're weak and helpless.

Stop talking. I never understand you.

I hope you saw less of Bob.

Kovalki wants to see you.

Why? I have nothing to say to that ass.

The door!

You can't call me a tyrant!

I come back and Esther says you slept together.

I put up a good front. It kills me, but I do!

Because we're friends!

And I love you infinitely!

I put it out of my head.

I'm no cop. You were both confused.

Forget Esther. She's with me now.

Different game rules.

I don't want her seeing you.

Come home weekends, but no kissing.

You agree to this?

Yes.

You're really dating him?

Yes.

She's unhappy with you! Let her be!

Stay out. Occupied.

- Bob, can you go? - Yeah, go!

Don't talk to my cousin like that!

What do I do?

Bob, get lost!

I'm uncomfortable. Either we discuss Esther

and you keep quiet!

And I feel like a cattle merchant!

Or else Esther takes a seat...

Come on, sit down.

And like three adults we discuss our matrimonial woes.

Which makes me puke!

Enough!

Esther, tell him, please.

I'm with Jean-Pierre now.

Understand?

I mean...

I think I'm going to die.

Leave my house.

Your brother invited us to the party.

You moved out. It's not your house.

You'll dance with this guy? Then what?

How are you?

Reduced to ashes.

Damn.

Do Jean-Pierre and Esther have to stay?

No one can throw them out?

Where do I go?

So I'm a whore?

Because of Kovalki or because talking to me is bad?

I got in a fight with that asshole.

You got a big mouth.

He can't bear me.

You're unbearable.

And fuck you.

Fuck you too.

Don't hurt me.

I thought without me you'd be less good.

Less pretty, less brash, less yourself.

You believed me. I still blame myself for it.

Without you I am less good.

At times I'm at a total loss.

I wasn't even unsettled.

Kovalki is... You know?

He's just a guy.

When you're not around, he gets all clingy.

I'm not the kind of guy who...

Gets married and has kids?

How do you know?

I know you, Dedalus.

What will you do after graduation?

Disappoint you.

It's small.

Happy I'm here?

Sure.

My eyes hurt.

Wait.

Remove your hands.

Is that better?

With you

I've become what I wanted to be.

I can't tell what's mine from what you've given me.

I know.

I'm glad it's like this.

It makes you closer to me.

- No. - Yes...

Before you, I didn't feel time fly.

Because I'm stupid.

Yes.

But you still love me.

It wasn't a compliment.

I'm not fond of women's intelligence. I find it ordinary.

But you...

Your intelligence doesn't repel me.

You know I won't use my strength to squash you.

Hello, honey.

Hello.

What's wrong?

I don't know.

Was it your trip?

I don't know how to live.

Paul, I had to quit school after a clash with my German teacher.

I hate Germany. German is ugly. All Nazis.

Just about to skip her class, I bumped into her.

I said I wasn't going. She was furious.

I'll write to your parents.

She won't let me on the premises anymore.

She really dislikes me.

My parents are cool. I'll graduate on my own.

Esther just graduated, to her parents' surprise.

Paul had no phone.

She sent a telegram to his university.

A secretary stopped the class, as students stared in dismay,

fearing news of death.

Paul opened it: Esther got her diploma.

I graduated.

A problem?

Good news. Everything's fine.

A week later, Paul's turn to get the results of his final exams.

What are you doing here?

I was supposed to see Pr. Behanzin.

Paul, you haven't heard?

I'm so sorry.

Pr. Behanzin...

died two days ago.

What happened?

She was in poor health. It was quick.

Where is she?

The body left Salpetriere Hospital today for Benin.

She'll be buried with her people.

I'm sorry about this.

Don't you want your exam results?

You passed your finals.

You'll get the grades by mail.

Congratulations.

Upon hearing this news, in an aching fog,

Paul signed up for his PhD.

He wouldn't remember a thing,

except that from then on, he was an orphan.

He never left for Benin.

Bitter year. Esther and Paul are still together.

It seems like 10, but only 2 years have gone by.

All alone...

I'm my own elder, now.

Esther begins dreary studies in Lille.

She works for her parents and finds life gray.

She now sends almost a letter a day.

Paul, this will probably be another silly letter.

You've managed

to make me miss you

so much

that each time I think of you

or write to you, my tears start flowing.

I know you love me. When I think of it,

my belly hurts from the happiness

and the sobbing.

You're the only one I'll always love.

When you come home, perhaps,

you'll knock down my door with an ax.

I won't shout in fear.

I'll shout my joy because I'm mad about you.

Or I'll faint, with a smile.

Esther.

Paul hurries to reply to the absence, the increased longing.

His letters never come fast enough to calm her.

I'm not doing well.

Utter confusion.

I'm scared of something, of you no doubt.

Some days, I'm abnormal.

I speak to no one. I stay alone.

Sorry for all this, but who can I tell, if not you?

I'm way too lonely.

I don't know how to make this letter deeper,

yet I can't stop writing.

What's it like when you're gone?

As if in my head I keep on writing.

I remember the last fights we had

and I'm still afraid.

I want it all to stop.

But of course I love you. Nothing stops.

Fear increases.

My eyes are swollen.

My head is fuzzy.

I'm really ugly, I think.

No one finds me attractive or I wouldn't be alone.

Write to me quickly.

I expect the world of your letter. Do something for me.

Esther.

Before, whatever Esther said,

Paul found her brilliant.

He found her funny, noble, trivial and precise.

He liked her every word.

Now her words break his heart.

Esther is coming undone, and it is shameful to allow it.

Four years of mad love.

Esther had 15 lovers.

Paul arrived at the modest figure of seven.

Then he received a grant to work in Dushanbe.

A few months later,

Esther called him to break up.

Did you see a guy?

Of course I saw a guy.

- You need a protector. - What?

You can't live without a protector. You're a whore.

A wavering whore. I pity you with all my heart.

- Don't say that, bastard. - I'm not saying it, my love.

It's you who left, not me.

You never loved me.

Not true.

You know I love you. You're too far.

It's over. I hate to say it, but I'm hanging up.

Right now.

Had they grown bored?

If they crossed paths, they'd avoid each other.

What good is friendship if passion is intact?

News from home?

Bad news?

A little.

My girlfriend and I are over.

I'm sorry.

Don't be. It was over with her before.

Twice, Ivan told his brother that Esther needed money.

She'd moved to Paris and couldn't get by.

Paul finally had a job. Twice he sent 1,000 francs.

To his letter, he added a Yeats poem, over-annotated.

Paul was reading Yeats then.

Esther read the letter, smiling. Same old Paul.

Too fevered, obscure.

EPILOGUE

And so, Paul returned to France.

He moved to Paris and lives alone.

His workload at the ministry is light.

Life goes calmly by and he feels energized.

One sunny morning, he gets a letter from Jean-Pierre Kovalki.

His old friend, now a surgeon, asks for Esther's address.

Paul's anger has not subsided.

Dear Kovalki,

summer whizzed by.

It's already January and...

I'm sending you my New Year's greetings.

I'm writing because I recently reread Esther's letters.

Ten years of correspondence.

I couldn't finish, I was so moved,

horrified by my sins.

It seems to me that Esther and I...

weren't able to get over having been together.

That sort of utopia...

I desired it so!

I think Esther too, in her way, hoped that

our liaison never end.

For me, it was for the best.

Without her, nothing at all. Without her...

life meant nothing to me.

Since we broke up,

I live in terror that for her, I was the worst.

Not since we broke up. Since I'm 19,

I'm haunted by the fear I wasn't good enough for her.

That certainty I sought, which I cannot grant myself.

All in all,

to have been good for her.

Back then, I often wondered

why you didn't date doctors, brilliant surgeons.

Lots of pretty girls in university. Why not find one?

Now I think it's because Esther came off as reassuring.

For you, she was the lack of ambition.

Esther impressed me.

Her arrogance...

So triumphant that I kept choosing her.

Among all her rivals, I chose her for six years,

eyes wide open, quivering with fear.

For Bob and you, Esther wasn't dangerous.

I didn't want to be protected. I got what I wanted!

Who did you two take me for?

How could I let you play with what was most precious?

What could I do? I was 150 miles away.

Esther was so young and so alone.

I only realize today we were a young, poor couple.

I hate having been that easy friend whose women you took,

so uncurious were you about women!

Paul never finished replying to Kovalki.

A few months later, he bumped into him at a concert.

I don't believe it.

- Kovalki... - I was thinking of you.

Paul got me into Hugo Wolf.

Our childhood!

This is Victorine, my wife.

We're off to our hotel.

- Hicks on holiday. - Nice.

Want to get a drink?

Where were you all this time?

Dushanbe, in Tajikistan. A former Soviet republic.

Paul's a doctor too, PhD.

I've never met someone who went to Tajikistan.

Research also led me to Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, even Iran.

Fascinating.

Once we had an Uzbekistani at the clinic.

Hospitalized for respiratory problems.

He was upset not to have called his wife.

He was afraid she'd worry.

- I lent him my cell phone. - How kind.

When I got home, I had to look on a map. I had no idea.

Not many people do.

I wrote to you last year.

Maybe Ivan gave me the wrong address.

No, I got your letter.

I didn't want to answer.

I started to write, then I stopped.

You wanted Esther's address.

I figured you'd get it from someone else.

Who is Esther?

What's this about?

The wife is here so we can't mention Esther?

You wrote to get news of her, right?

Didn't you say you wanted to think of Esther?

Please, Paul.

It's neither the time or place.

Jean-Pierre Kovalki always knows what's appropriate.

Did you drink before?

When I headed to Paris,

who waited for Esther at the station, to console her?

Either you or Bob.

Console! To get her to bestow her favors on you.

Enough. This is nonsense!

Come on, Kovalki. I was 19. Esther was 16!

I reread her letters. About how you persuaded her,

the movies, the restaurants.

I was far, unreliable.

My absence tore us apart. So easy for you.

I didn't want her to live like a nun. Yes, she slept with you.

Like with Bob, Penelope and the others.

Her letters! Shame on you!

You seemed reassuring. I was uncertainty itself.

And now it's neither the time or place?

You hovered around my girlfriend for four years!

Four! Preying on her.

Is this true?

I'm sorry to inflict this on you. I thought he'd be over it.

Since we met last, you haven't calmed down!

Paris, eight years ago? I remember!

I was so rude! So incredibly stupid!

You kept quiet.

Did your silence call for my compassion?

Bollocks! You contact me yet again,

writing that you think of Esther...

Furious, I still answer that you never loved Esther.

Stop, Paul! Stop it now!

You know the codes.

They're in every western, film noir and melodrama

we watched on TV as kids.

How can you ignore the moral you were taught,

as was I, in popular entertainment?

Our life wasn't comfortable. She and I never had a place.

I couldn't take her on vacation.

I was a bum deal, and yet

I think we were happy.

"Intact. " That's what I'd have written. Love intact. Sorrow intact.

My fury intact!

It means: "I think the gods exist. I am not atheist. "

And this...

Like in Russian? Pronounced "f"?

Yes, it's a phi.

Phaedra.

This sentence is for you.

What does it mean?

"You're divine concerning discourse, O Paul Dedalus!"

And what does this mean?

"Children, where are you now?"

Why quit Greek? You seem good.

At first the alphabet interested me.

Like secret code. I could show off.

Then I got bored shitless.

They're for you.

You won't use them again?

Not in this life.

One day I gave away my identity.

To who?

To a guy.

In the USSR.

Now, somewhere in the world I have a double.

What?

When I was a teenager,

I gave my identity to a guy.

But which one am I?

The real one, I know.

- So the other is my double? - Yes, my love.

Confirmed.

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