Original subtitles

Paul thought the valley wasn�t in the shape of a scar,

a slit in the landscape like it often is in the region,

but it looked like the palm of a hand,

a welcoming hand for him and very few others,

local people excepted, of course.

Paul also thought that at certain hours

on certain days during certain seasons,

the valley looked ghostly,

and ghosts probably lived here.

Especially when silence was both overwhelming and light.

This was early April

but the ice covering the lake was still almost one metre thick.

THE GHOST VALLEY

Paul, who was a filmmaker,

walked back to his house in the plain and received a phone call...

I�m in Paris.

I�d like to have another meeting with you.

The other day I was... It didn�t work, I was ugly and stupid.

I spoke nonsense.

I can drive 500 kilometres, that�s easy.

I can be there tonight or tomorrow morning.

Not possible?

Right...

Goodbye.

People would do anything to perform.

- That one wasn�t your character either? - No.

How do you see her?

I can�t see her. I haven�t found her yet.

You must have an idea. How about her eyes?

Her eyes? What you�re saying makes no sense.

Tall, short, blond, brunette... I wouldn�t have a clue.

- Are you throwing this away? - What?

Are you throwing this away?

What?

Sure, if it�s in the waste basket.

Is it the TV I can hear? I thought it was broken.

- Is this your scenario? - Yes. Is the TV repaired?

I was starting to miss that gelatinous eye staring at us.

You�ve been working on it for four months.

- Isn�t it good? - It�s good... Well, it�s not bad.

A proper story with a beginning, a middle and an ending.

I�ll keep it, then.

We all have days when we want to throw everything away.

- What if you changed your mind? - Not a chance.

It�s dead.

You just said it�s not bad.

That�s right, just another story.

There are too many. And for what purpose?

Since mankind started growling...

Stories have existed since the stone age.

There must be a reason.

Sure. Sure...

They crystallise the meaning of life and things.

That�s their purpose.

But right now I feel it works the opposite way.

They're a vacuum for anything meaningful.

When you watch a TV series you get a physical sensation

because the worid is being disembowelled of all meaning.

It�s like flushing a toilet.

- 300... 360. - No.

Two cards.

- One. - Two.

- Two more. - Still active...

Action.

- Your turn. - I�ll stay.

No.

100, 160, 180... 200, 280.

I lost.

- I thought you liked it. - No.

I only like it when I�m winning.

If you become a bitter old man I�ll leave you.

I think you�ve lost your desire to work lately.

It�s not the desire, it�s the tool that�s failing me.

It�s easier for you. You sharpen your pencil and it works.

- What will you do? - I�ll keep looking.

- Looking for what? - An actress.

For a scenario you�ve just dismissed?

Precisely. I�m after a character, not a story.

A real character...

whose eyes will tell me �You must do this and nothing else.�

To a painter she would say...

�Do my portrait, get to work.�

You�ve been looking for months. In vain.

Maybe she doesn�t exist.

Oh, yes, she does.

You smell of alcohol and cigars.

That proves I too exist.

I have an odour.

Why not a man? Why does it have to be a woman?

No... not a man.

Impossible.

Not interesting.

Why am I here?

The production�s organised an audition.

Have they? What do we do now?

We�ll film the actresses on video tape.

Here?

But I...

I didn�t bring my script.

That�s okay. Ask them questions.

- Me? - Yes.

- Not me. - I�ll do it, then.

Yes.

But not questions. This is already like a police interrogation.

I have some books with me.

They can read a chapter.

They can learn it a bit in advance.

If you wish. Don�t you want to meet them?

I�ll meet them and say hello but then I�ll go to the control room.

Don�t look at me. Look at the camera.

You rarely acknowledge things in life.

They escape you.

You said the other day life seems like an act.

That�s exactly how I feel.

I act my life like it's a film.

Badly edited, badly recorded, badly acted...

A flop.

A crime story with no crime, no police, no victim, no plot.

It may as well be a proper film.

Crazy...

I�m too close, I�ll sit at the back.

To be on stage, silent, observed, not thinking about anything specific...

That�s it.

The ending�s the worst.

No, the worst is the beginning.

And the middle.

And the ending too.

At the end, it�s the ending that�s worst.

That voice...

Every moment is the worst.

It happens in a set time.

The seconds pass, one after the other.

Time is what you talk about when you have nothing to say.

The seconds...

Some people add them up to make a life out of them.

I can�t.

Sit here and deliver your text to the camera.

Why did he give me this text? That�s not me.

I don�t know. He picked a book from his bag.

I�ve been working in a black pudding factory for two years.

I work like crazy around Christmas time.

Five miles of black pudding for Christmas and nine for New Year.

The black pudding arrives all mushy in a tube, like toothpaste.

And I�m here waiting with my casing.

That�s my job.

Eight hours a day, forty hours a week.

First I used to make p�t�.

P�t�... it�s disgusting.

All those bits of meat compacted in plastic pots.

I nearly had a breakdown so they sent me to make black pudding.

A bit better.

Why so many screens?

Can�t you leave just one screen on?

Okay, if you want.

Even if the lights were off...

if I were told...

What�s the small screen on the left for?

It�s the control panel.

Even if the lights were off...

if I were told �It�s over, that�s it.�

Even if nothing else was to happen,

nothing but the emptiness of the stage,

its grey air draft...

I would stay anyway...

there is always something to look at.

- Aren�t you staying? - I can�t.

- What do I do with the others? - I don�t know.

Make video tapes.

- I�ll send them to you. - Yes.

They�re all beautiful, intelligent, they act well, they�re professional...

- That�s good. - Yes.

- But it seems to upset you. - A little bit.

Goodbye. Thank you.

When he left Paris Paul wasn�t really sad.

But he felt images were rushing at the speed of light.

And speed wasn�t really Paul�s thing.

Jean on the other hand knew he had to act fast.

For him, time was always lacking.

Hey, you!

Little bastard!

Watch out!

Sorry... but I have to run.

I like nothing else.

That�s all I like. I can�t breathe if I�m not acting.

I was already acting in my mother�s womb. Yes.

Would you like to know about my roles?

No need. You�re telling me it�s your career.

- You really like nothing else in life? - I do! Life!

So why want to be someone else?

Acting is a way to escape life.

To return to it in better shape.

- And you, do you only like cinema? - Yes.

And women too.

And history.

What period?

What do you mean? I like history, that�s all.

Today�s history, tomorrow�s...

Not the day after tomorrow�s history. Too far for me.

Someone once said

�The only important thing to figure out

�is when history really stopped.�

- Has it stopped? - Yes.

Well, I think so. Don�t you?

No.

Hello.

- Does Paul Lebach live here? - Yes. But he�s sick.

Is he?

- I hope it�s not serious. - No.

In fact he�s gone for a walk along the river.

That way.

It will be easy to find him.

Thank you, Miss. Thank you.

Bye.

Hello.

- Are you following me? - I am.

I�d like to talk to you.

- You�re breathless. - I ran.

- I went the other direction. - It�s normal.

You�re a bit lazy, you followed the current. I never do.

- You want to make films. - Yes.

I agree with you but you�re wasting your time.

It�s about to disappear.

Cinema to disappear? I doubt it.

You came out of school one week ago and want to be an assistant.

- What film school was it? - In New York.

It wasn�t one week ago, but rather five weeks ago.

So...

But for the rest you�re right.

I�d like to be an assistant on one of your films.

I don�t have assistants.

But the sound engineer always needs someone to stop the traffic.

- I can do that. - I have no doubt.

But I don�t care.

I mostly wanted to meet you to talk to you.

- About cinema? - Yes, but not only.

Talking about cinema is good. No one does it anymore.

People only say �it's a great film� or �it�s rubbish�.

We could try.

People don�t lack ideas. They just lack words to express them.

Like American giris...

They say �I love you� or �I hate you.� �I love you�, �I hate you�...

Words exist but need to be found.

So you want to make films, with all the mess around?

No. With this mess up here.

It�s been... three years since I last watched a landscape.

- So? - It�s nice.

It�s like being able to speak again.

- The Rh�ne is beautiful here. - Very beautiful.

- Rivers always are, everywhere. - I know.

I live near the Rh�ne too, but in town.

This must be home for you. Were you born here?

No, I�m from Central Europe, which ends right here.

On the other bank, it�s Western Europe

and the river flows towards Southern Europe.

My great-grandfather was a friend of Emperor Franz Joseph.

- What will your films talk about? - I don�t know.

Oh yes, I know.

Probably about love.

Passi�n again? It�s always about passi�n.

- It�s a bad sign. - Why a bad sign?

It�s a good sign. A sign of health.

It�s the way one talks about passi�n that�s a bad sign.

- At your house they said you�re sick. - Yes.

I have nausea.

And a murderous impulse too.

But that�s normal, nothing serious.

A cigar?

If we shot here we�d need you to stop the air traffic.

Madeleine!

Look what I found on the river bank.

An assistant.

Hello.

His name is Jean. Take a seat.

- Would you like some tea? - Yes, thank you.

I brought a gift but I don�t know if that goes well with tea.

Benedictine...

Pear William...

Brandy...

- Coffee would be better. - Yes, I think so.

Funny...

The night I came back from New York I heard you on the radio.

It was as if you were talking to me.

I wanted to meet you anyway.

I thought that such a sceptical and cynical man

wouldn�t tell me lies.

- I think you were good. - Not very good.

- A dialogue needs two people. - Too many people talk.

I�m not saying that about you.

There's too much chatter everywhere.

Usually to say very little.

You weren�t very happy.

I should have been even more sombre.

You said

�Images, like trees, are diseased.�

Did I? No way.

- You did. - Then I was wrong.

It�s exactly the opposite.

Trees are endangered and images proliferate.

Like cancer cells.

But cancer isn�t contagious.

I should have said AIDS, then. Even more gloomy.

Cinema is very contagious.

- Do you really want to be sick? - Yes, really.

I�ve already caught the virus.

On top of that, it�s become a lost cause.

And you want to be his assistant!

But we all know lost causes are the greatest causes.

- How did you get here? - By bus.

I have to go to town. I�ll give you a lift.

- Let�s write a contract. - A contract?

Yes. Since we�re about to exchange things.

Work for money, knowledge for knowledge...

- Secrets for information. - I have nothing to swap.

You don�t have any work for me to do.

You know things I don�t. You�ll tell me.

You�re lucky to be living here. It�s the nicest street in town.

- Do you pay rent? - It�s not much.

I share with a friend.

Here you only see Portuguese and Spanish people. I like that.

When our business gets better I�ll pay half the rent.

Half? Why half?

- I shouldn�t have to pay for your friend. - Three of us live here.

Even better, I�ll pay a third of the rent.

Bye.

So I�m writing �Contract. Article 1. Friendship.�

We�ll try to be good friends.

You write it down.

So... Friendship.

�Jean shall always carry a small note book,

�maybe a little cheaper than Paul�s leather one.�

- I�m telling you, it�s a full moon! - �And a pencil...

�In it he shall write down his own ideas and impressions.�

You�re such a pain. It was yesterday. I couldn�t sleep.

Because the full moon gave you a hard-on.

Stop it you two, damn it.

�It won�t happen often, but when Paul is tired of the countryside

�Jean will accompany him to the pub.�

Ask Lebach if it�s a full moon.

He�s an intellectual, not like you two morons.

- He�s found himself a pretty boy. - Is he into pretty boys now?

- What�s with those guys? - Ignore them.

Write.

�Jean shall demonstrate patience

�when Paul is waiting for chance to intervene.�

�Paul shall be lenient

�if Jean happens to do or to say stupid things.�

No need to write that. It�s included in Article 1.

That�s being friendly.

Write...

�Whatever Jean may say,

�it shall help the worid progress rather than go backwards.�

Lebach!

Leave your pretty boy alone and drink with us.

- They say it�s not a full moon. - It�s you who�s full, like a barrel.

Stop thinking and have a drink.

Who does he think he is? He�s not even looking at us.

Hey, faggot!

- What do we do? - Nothing.

You want to fight?

He won�t move, the bastard.

Come on, bring your arse over here.

Yeah...

Fuck him so we can have fun.

He�s chickening out. Shit...

Cowardice is an attitude that fills me with joy. Write.

Write it as if you had your notebook.

Why Paris?

- To look for an actress. - Again?

Interesting people are everywhere.

My postman is interesting but I doubt he can act at all.

Damn it!

- We've been cursed. - Cursed!

- What is it? - A flat tyre.

It�s your fault.

- Alone, I never have a flat tyre. - It must be my fault.

They should invent tyres that never puncture.

I disagree.

Why? Are you enjoying doing this?

I�m not, but every invention leads to a new one.

Objects multiply infinitely and it gets out of control.

A key to open a tin of sardines punctured the tyre.

It must have gone through it while driving.

Portuguese sardines with olive oil.

Not destructive, not creative, only careless.

And the worid is hopeless.

Do you think it�s suicide?

- Do you mean the worid? - Yes.

No, it doesn�t look like suicide.

So why is the worid acting so hopelessly?

The devil�s doing, probably.

Some archaic societies committed suicide.

How did they do that?

They did nothing,

they just let themselves become extinct.

They gave up.

That�s what we should do. Peacefully.

That�s not at all what�s happening.

Not at all, indeed. I see no sign of that.

We�re rather doing it the other way. The hard way.

If we were using your method, what would the signs be?

I don�t know...

Weeds growing in the middle of the highway.

TV presenters on air wearing shirts covered with gravy stains.

Yes. That would be an irrefutable sign.

My God, where's it all gone?

I�ve forgotten everything.

In my head there�s only confusi�n.

I can�t even remember how to say �window� or �ceiling� in Italian.

I forget, I forget a bit more every day.

And life goes and will never come back.

Never, never will we go to Moscow.

I know we�ll never leave.

Time goes on...

and every day I see myself moving away from reality

towards an abyss.

I'm desperate.

Will you perform something?

I find it absurd to chop things into small bits

out of their context.

It�s like film trailers on TV.

Go on.

I rather agree with you.

And you write films, not plays.

True.

You could improvise.

Improvise... what?

Do you know the story of the theatre on fire?

No. Is it funny?

Yes.

An actress runs to the stage during a performance

and asks the audience to leave because backstage is on fire.

Naturally, the audience thinks it�s part of the show

and no one moves.

The more she tries to be convincing, the more people laugh.

The more convincing she is, the less convinced they are.

Then they all clap their hands.

- But everyone dies in the fire. - That�s how the worid will end.

- It�s not a very funny story. - Yes, it is. It�s by Kierkegaard.

The moral of the story is an actress shouldn't be too convincing.

You missed the point.

- It�s the atomic bomb. - Yes.

But it will happen on TV, not at the theatre.

A speaker will interrupt the program

and announce that an idiot finally has pushed the button.

Everyone will think it�s in the story. And boom!

Ladies and gentlemen...

I must ask you to remain calm and leave.

A fire has broken out backstage.

He says there�s only one image left to shoot.

That�s not much. It had better be good.

- Which one is it? - He doesn�t know, he�s looking for it.

He thinks he might find it in the eyes of an actress.

Her eyes.

Is that why we�re here? I thought it was for an audition.

Call it the way you want.

He�s searching, that�s all.

Looking for the ideal woman.

We have a chance, one out of a thousand.

He�s late. Is that a good or a bad sign?

It�s... a bad sign.

Have you seen me act before?

I played in a film that was on TV last week.

- You probably didn�t watch it. - What was it?

On televisi�n I only watch documentaries on elephants.

It�s quite obvious that we don�t really look like your character, right?

We�d have to be unique.

- But you are. - I mean to be the only wondrous one.

- Or you�d have to like me. - I like you both.

Or we�d have to have huge ears and a long nose, like an elephant.

Elephants are an endangered species. It�s a tragedy.

We should film them urgently. Lots of things are urgent.

I thought you wanted a girl, not an elephant.

I�m after what�s right and after what�s wrong.

I need to see both.

With you, I can see what�s right.

- I don�t get it. - Don�t you?

You look too healthy.

That�s what he�s after, a sick woman.

Of course. Or else you�d be just good enough to do ads.

So we also have to be sick?

We have no work, it�s hard enough to get by,

but we have to be sick before we can hope to get any work.

With no guarantee.

- I could always try alcoholism. - Yes, very good!

Now we�re on the right track.

It�s tough to play one�s destiny like it's a lottery.

That�s how it is. Everyone has to play.

You win or you lose. You have to win, that�s all.

I�d like to write a book entitled �To Lose�.

- Winners are revolting, don�t you think? - Yes.

You have the good part.

You�re a famous director, you call an actress,

�Show me your mug. No, that won�t do.�

�You look too much like a winner.�

But you remain a director and she�s lost.

- This one�s lost too. - Who is she?

Dar� Rossini, the Italian.

We saw her in Venice five or six years ago.

She�s completely disappeared.

- You were in love with her a bit. - More than a bit.

Strange, I didn�t think of her.

- You didn�t look well enough. - Give me the photo.

I saw her but I didn�t keep her because of the language.

- Does it matter here? - No, not really.

- We saw her in a short art film. - A beautiful film.

Very beautiful. Then we spent the evening with her.

Wonderful.

I�d forgotten about her.

I�m wasting my time searching and losing my memory.

Your age...

No, she�s disappeared, that�s why.

- Have you lost your bet? - Very likely.

Time to go out for lunch.

Here, there�s a phone number.

Show me.

The phone number is no longer valid.

Luigi in Rome says she can�t be found.

He said �Pazienza.�

I am patient, very patient.

But this time I can no longer wait.

You have to wait. What else can you do?

Go for a walk. Write.

Although I don�t know if I can write again before seeing her.

I�ll go to the Valley for a few days.

The red card is this one.

It was mid-April but there were still snow patches.

But the ghosts had left.

Paul was holding on to his certainty.

He knew it was going to be Dar� and no one else.

Paul!

Come for a coffee!

You�re not working, you're just walking.

I saw you this morning. You need to work, old friend.

In cinema, you�re all lazy.

I work while I�m walking.

The brain gets oxygenated.

Unless it�s the contrary.

Those who run become addicted. Maybe they lack oxygen.

Those who run are arseholes.

But you don�t walk fast.

Because I�m thinking.

I work in my sleep too.

Dreaming is work.

For as long as I get up to take notes.

Life�s so hard!

The only time I�m not working is when I play cards.

- Do you play Poker? - We don�t play Poker around here.

- We could find some players. - They play Poker in America.

Why not get some giris while you�re at it?

Some say this place used to be a brothel, for travellers.

- But that�s over now. - A shame.

Nice place for love.

- What are you up to these days? - Nothing.

I stare at a photograph, of an actress.

I�m waiting until it tells me what to do.

But it�s not working.

I need to find that girl but she�s disappeared.

So, I don�t know what to do. I�m waiting.

It�s easier to wait here than in town.

No, it�s harder.

I should go back.

Be quieter when you eat your soup.

Hello!

- You all right, C�cile? - Yes.

- And Madeleine? - She�s out.

And Jean�s eating my soup!

�Article 4. Jean�s allowed a plate of soup.�

Does he deserve it?

Yes. He got a phone number from Luigi yesterday.

Ah! What did he say?

It�s fine. We found her.

Well, not quite.

Found or not found?

We found the town but no address, no phone number.

- Where does she live? - In her home town.

It�s called... How is it called?

It�s called Chioggia. That�s all we know.

People are not all administered, many escape control.

There�s only one thing to do.

To deserve more soup and the title of assistant, you must go there.

I hate doing enquiries and searches.

- Where is Chioggia? - Ignorant fool!

That�s where they have brawls. Goldoni.

Le Baruffe!

Near Venice.

- You�re going tomorrow. Take my car. - Super. I love Italy, I love cars.

Hey, you�re not going as a tourist.

And don�t come back unless you find her, okay?

Now eat your soup.

Jean thought the gods were on his side.

Two months after the end of his studies

he was already working.

It was what's called a small job

but going in search of a beautiful woman in the Venice lagoon

was a very good start.

Memory retains only what's valuable.

Memory knows more about me than I do.

It never loses what deserves to be saved.

Proud of my age.

Cities and people, free from my memory,

sail towards me.

The land where I was born, the children I�ve conceived,

the men and women who have expanded my heart...

I must analyse all this.

Here we are.

Once in Chioggia Jean felt the small town was a good place,

a fruitful place where something right was going to happen.

He took his time exploring it

and went to the town hall where no Rossini was registered.

He suddenly felt he was looking for a needle in a haystack.

- Where do you come from? - Me?

Good day.

- What are you doing in Chioggia? - Me?

- I�m here looking... - For what?

A girl.

Hold on.

Maybe you know her.

No. But this is not a girl.

- It�s a fantasy. Your fantasy. - A fantasy?

Shit, shit...

Damn it.

It�s bloody annoying.

I�ll never find her.

Hello? Ah, Jean! Tell me.

Well, I�m in muddy waters right now.

No Rossini in Chioggia.

I�ve looked at the police station, the town hall...

Nobody knows her.

I don�t know what more to do.

I can�t just ask in the street.

There are 10,000 people in Chioggia. Exclude the men, you have 5000.

Exclude all women over 30 and under 20 years old,

you�re left with a few hundred giris.

There�s only one like her, so it�s easy.

Hold on, I have an idea.

Go to caf�s and ask people if they know a Dar�. It�s a rare name.

Rossini might be her acting name.

Jean followed Paul�s advice

and started visiting caf�s the next day.

Even if the coffee started to taste bitter,

he thought he might get lucky, and he did.

- How much? - 700 lire.

- Your girlfriend? - No, no.

- Do you know her? - She�s too young for me.

I...

I�ve been looking for her everywhere.

- Her name�s Dar�. - Dar�?

Dar�...

- Dar� is the Vignellis� daughter. - You know her?

Yes, yes, that�s her.

That�s her, no doubt. A beautiful girl.

She even went to Rome to work in cinema.

- Does she live here? - Yes.

Yes, she lives in Sottomarina.

- Want to go? - Yes.

Then listen. Cross the bridge, the long bridge.

On the other side there�s a small square to your left.

On the square is the Vignellis' caf�.

It�s called Bar al Cinema. You can�t miss it.

- Okay, thank you. - No problem.

Well done, Jean. Wow!

Hello.

One Campari, please.

Pardon me, is Miss Dar� here?

No, she�s not.

- Doesn�t she work here? - Yes, she does.

- She�ll be here in half an hour. - Half an hour? Thank you.

Signorina...

- Excuse me, do you speak French? - A bit.

May I have a word with you?

- I�m working now. Afterwards? - Later, okay.

- But you like Paul, don�t you? - Si.

I�m amazed he thought of me after so long.

It�s nice.

But I don�t want to. It's impossible.

Don�t say that. You never know what may happen.

I left the professi�n four years ago. For good.

- Why? - Because it�s an absurd professi�n.

The life I had in Rome... Never again.

Waiting for films that never get made, no money,

the years flying past...

And now there�s televisi�n.

I won�t sell myself for that. It�s over.

If you do that, you become a monster.

Now I�m happy here. Things are fine.

- What�s your name? - Jean.

- Do you work with Paul? - Yes.

It�s nice.

You should try elsewhere.

You�ll find a girl.

- Loads of them are waiting. - Perhaps.

But Paul wants you, no one else.

That�s nice, but a bit ridiculous.

What am I going to do? What can I tell him?

Tell him the truth.

It�s not that easy. The truth...

I�m in deep shit. That�s the truth.

That�s your problem, not mine.

Right.

Stay until she accepts. Do your best, I trust you.

Stay as long as it takes.

Money? I don�t know... They have a restaurant.

Eat their leftovers.

She likes you, right? She won�t let you starve.

But I want a contract, verbal but definitive.

At any cost.

Come on, I�m sure it will work. Bye.

I like having an assistant. Small staff.

- Unpaid. - Let�s say poorly paid.

It�s not my fault if things are tight right now.

What�s up?

Are you unwell?

I have a problem.

What problem?

Because of you!

I�ve already told you,

it�s your problem.

Not mine.

I can�t leave unless you accept the job with Paul. I can�t.

- This story�s ridiculous. - It�s not.

That�s the way it is.

So you want to stay here forever? In this restaurant?

Why not? I could marry you.

We�d take over the business. I�ve been a waiter.

In New York. With a bow tie.

In New York?

Do you want to stay here forever?

I don�t know. I doubt it.

Accept then. What have you got to lose?

Making a film isn�t that bad.

You can always come back.

Cinema is over for me.

It�s in the past. You don�t revisit the past.

What�s Paul�s project?

Paul�s project?

It�s a film with someone who looks like you.

A character who looks like you.

Like me?

But what does Paul know about me? Nothing.

And you, even less.

Nobody is completely transparent,

but not completely opaque either.

I can already guess a few things.

Come and help me rather than doing nothing.

So who is this character who looks like me?

- Someone who resists. - Resists what?

Bad spirits.

- Bad spirits? - Yes.

- What�s that? - Bad spirits?

Can�t you sense them? They�re everywhere.

Perhaps a little less here.

- I see. She�s a saint. - A saint, yes.

But not ethereal. She has a body.

Ah! A saint who likes men? In bed.

Not necessarily all men.

One maybe. Or maybe two.

But not at the same time. One after the other.

I�m glad Paul is filming the story.

Does the restaurant belong to your father?

No, my uncle.

My father went to America 10 years ago.

To America? Where?

New York.

What's he doing there?

Same as here. He has a caf�.

Why did he leave?

Family issues. He remarried there.

He wanted a new life.

I think he�s quite exiled.

There are a lot of Italians in New York.

I liked him. I�d like to see him again.

I don�t think he�s very happy.

First he wrote, then less and less and now not at all.

It�s sad.

Your father...

he never came back for a visit?

No, never.

Why don�t you go?

It�s complicated.

I�ve never been on a plane, I�m too scared.

I have no money. I don�t speak a word of English.

America is a long way.

I don�t like travelling.

- Have you ever gone far? - No, never.

So how do you know you�ll be scared?

Fear is fear. That�s all.

It�s something you know.

Dar�...

Come over here.

Sit down.

I have a great idea.

Here�s an offer.

What is it?

If I take you to New York to see your father, will you work for Paul?

- Is that a joke? - No, I�m very serious.

You don�t even have money to pay for your food.

- I have no money either. - I can find some, easily.

- Where? - I�ll manage, don�t worry.

So what do you think?

I don�t know.

- It�s not that easy. - Nothing�s easier.

Do you accept?

It must be a joke. It�s on the other side of the worid.

It�s not. It�s next door.

A quick jump on a plane and you�re in America.

- I have to think about it. - No need to think.

Say yes, that�s all.

Two life-changing questions, and you want an immediate answer.

I can�t say yes like that.

To go to America. And back to cinema.

It�s blackmail anyway.

No, it�s not blackmail.

It�s a deal. A fair deal.

It is blackmail.

No, no.

It�s bartering.

Small business.

I prefer the idea of blackmail.

Well...

Do you accept?

Give me a few days to get used to the idea.

I don�t have a few days. I don�t have the time.

Tell me tomorrow if it�s okay.

Tomorrow?

Okay. Tomorrow it is.

His trust in Jean enabled Paul to work peacefully that morning.

Anyway, and in spite of appearances,

Paul had an optimistic nature.

This was May 12th.

So?

I�m coming right away. Wait for me.

So, what have you decided?

- Okay, I accept. - Really?

That�s great. See, it wasn�t so difficult.

It was. I haven�t slept all night.

When do you want to go?

Immediately.

- Did Paul give you the money? - No, I�m going to surprise him.

We have to go to Milan to get a visa.

And after that, l�America.

Can you give me time to get used to it? I�m already scared to death.

If I do, you�ll change your mind again.

- But to the States, are they big planes? - Oh, yes.

- Huge? - Yes, huge. Jumbos.

Large like a cinema. You could play football inside.

Me?

I�ll stay in my seat the whole time with my eyes shut.

Hello.

Hello...

- Tell me. - I want to sell this car. Is it possible?

- Is it yours? - Yes, sure it�s mine.

- Do you have the registration? - The papers?

Here.

Why are you selling it? Is it bad?

No, it�s fine, it�s fine. It�s a new car, but...

I need the money.

And how much money would you like?

Eight million lire.

Are you nuts?

It�s worth twice that much.

Are you crazy? I can�t give you eight million for it.

Okay. Let�s say 6 million.

Three and not another lire.

No way!

Three million for this car?

Bye then.

Three million...

So, have you changed your mind?

The three million, do you have it right away?

Right away, no.

But we can manage something. Come back in an hour.

- One hour! - One hour.

Look away.

- Yes. - Like this?

The first time I saw your photo

I thought �She�s not a girl of water.�

You�re a girl of the earth.

I wasn�t born in the Casbah.

- Casbah? - That�s what we call this place.

Some say if you drop your wallet here

it will never reach the ground.

Can you untie your hair?

- My hair? - Yes.

With pleasure.

- Okay? - Yes.

- Smile a little bit. - Smile? No.

I�m loaded with money.

We have to keep some for the trip.

- But let�s celebrate. Champagne. - We don�t have any.

- Do you want some spumante? - Spumante? Yuk!

- What are we celebrating? - Everything.

The trip, the contract with Paul. Everything.

- Do you like good wine? - Yes. Do you want some?

Yes. Can you get us some?

Yes. It might help me fight my fear.

And make me sleep. Otherwise I won�t be able to.

You shouldn�t sleep. You�ll have nightmares.

With planes flying around your head like flies.

Stop it! I�ll get a bottle.

Yes. Even two! Two good ones!

Mother...

Give me 100 lire

to go to America.

I want to go.

A hundred lire I�m giving you.

It�s a sad party.

Maybe the party�s not over yet.

It�s over for me. I�m completely drunk.

And my fear of flying�s still here.

And you, are you okay?

Yes.

- I�m staying with you this evening. - Sorry?

I�m staying with you this evening.

- You mean tonight? - Yes, all night.

All night?

I�ll chase the flies away.

- Chase the flies away? - And your nightmares.

I�m exhausted.

Come on. We�re very close.

- Okay. - Let�s go. Be careful.

Here we are.

Skyscrapers are here.

It�s such a beautiful and dirty city.

The Statue of Liberty�s here.

And here... this is where your father is.

Maybe it looks a bit like Chioggia.

So why did he go that far?

Maybe his daughter was too serious.

You think so? Do you find me too serious?

Let�s say a bit secretive.

Yes, it�s worked. Okay.

Okay, fine. Yes.

So ciao. Bye.

Paul! I wanted to tell you...

I�m in love.

I�m in love with her.

Yes, we slept together. It was terrific.

- Jean did a very good job. - Yes.

Yes. I�d say he�s done his job even a little too well.

What do you mean?

I think I�m being done. Jean is plotting something.

Because he�s taking her to America?

It�s the only way she�ll work with you.

Yes.

Don�t you think it should have been me going with her?

He could at least have offered it to me.

On these shots Dar� is half-naked in bed.

It�s a bit suspicious.

And rather unpleasant. Very unpleasant.

Aren�t you a bit jealous?

Very jealous.

Even if this is only an image. All the more so.

She�s not bad. I�ll soon be jealous too.

Yes. And when Jean becomes jealous we�ll have a tragedy.

A real jealous feud.

There�s a night train to Venice. I�m going tonight.

I�m looking for a girl called Dar� and a young man, Jean.

Yes, they left yesterday.

- Gone? Where to? - To Milan to catch a flight to America.

- Are you sure? - Yes, I�m sure.

I�ll have a coffee, please.

Paul wasn�t sure if he'd been betrayed.

He didn�t care about being robbed of anything,

he didn�t care at all,

but not of an image, the very image that might be his last.

He went back to the caf� and asked for Dara�s father�s address in New York.

Where are we?

New York. This is Brooklyn. Not too far from your father�s place.

Over there I think. That�s it.

- Here? - Yes.

All right...

Are you sure it�s here?

I think so. It�s the right address.

- Is your father called Joe? - No. Giuseppe.

That�s right, then. Let�s go.

Darling, I thought you were in Italy.

- What are you doing here? - I wanted to see you.

This is my wife. She doesn�t speak Italian.

Come here...

- I don�t understand. - We�re talking about Europe.

May as well be the moon.

Come back to Italy. Your wife will like it.

But she doesn�t speak a single word of Italian.

She can learn. You speak English better than Italian.

And what about our business?

We can�t just wander about like you cinema people.

It�s a odd story, don�t you think?

Why? Anything can happen in life.

Without him I wouldn�t be here seeing you in New York.

You should get married one day.

A woman without a family is a woman without a life.

And him, he�s not the man for you.

Why are you saying that?

Anyway we�re not together. He�s just a friend.

He�s nice, isn�t he?

- How�s business? - So-so...

Not too bad.

Don�t you ever want to go back to Italy?

To do what? The caf� belongs to my brother.

This one is mine.

I�ve never wanted to work for other people.

Here, I�m the boss.

This is what I�ve always wanted.

So all those stories about Chioggia, it�s all in the past.

Do you like living here?

Because the place where we live is important.

This is where I earn a living.

That�s what matters most.

And I�m married here.

And who we live with matters too.

I never think about going home.

Why do you ask all these questions?

I want to know how you�re doing.

I�m fine.

I talk like this because I love you.

I love you too.

Sorry?

- Do you remember me? - Of course I do.

And you, do you remember me?

- Jean. - Paul.

How are you?

Your friend will have to sleep somewhere else tonight.

Why? Where do you want him to go?

Wherever he wants.

He doesn�t even sleep with me. He sleeps on the floor.

- Are you kidding me? - I swear.

I don�t care.

At your house, you do as you want.

It�s none of my business.

Sleep on the floor, on the ceiling, with whoever you want.

But this is my house.

And here I decide where people sleep and with whom.

Especially if it�s about my daughter.

A daughter doesn�t do what she wants at her father�s house.

- It�s me. - Come in, it�s open.

Paul...

Can I sleep here, on the couch?

Your room isn�t good? Shall we swap?

No, my room is fine.

It�s just that...

I don�t want to sleep on my own in this hotel in this city.

- Take the bed, I�ll take the couch. - No, I don�t want to bother you.

- Dar�... - Yes?

We�re about to spend quite some time together.

Yes, but not necessarily in a bed.

That�s not what I meant.

Remember that I�m an image for you.

But an image doesn�t breathe.

When you roll in your bed tonight I�ll hear you.

I might desire you.

What will I do?

- It�s you who wants to sleep here. - Yes.

But it�s not to provoke you, it�s because I�m afraid.

I�m always afraid when I travel. And I�ll have to get on a plane again.

I�d rather jump out the window.

- You look sad? - Are you happy with this?

- What do you mean �this�? - Here.

- My father. - His caf�, it�s a nice diner.

A small restaurant�s nicer than a big one, nicer for the staff.

Perhaps, yes.

But I don�t think he�ll ever go home.

He�s changed. I hardly recognise him.

He doesn�t speak Italian but a blend of Sicilian and American.

He�ll go back. He�s not in exile.

Why do you want to make a film with me?

I can't answer that.

It�s like being in love. Why her and not another one?

But why someone who no longer wants it?

That�s precisely what interests me.

What are you going to say in your film?

I don�t know.

I�ll talk a bit about you, of course.

You�ll tell the story of my life?

It�s not very fascinating.

It must be. All lives are interesting.

But it�s not your life I want to tell.

I want to film you.

And this light that comes in through the window.

And your skin too.

Don�t touch me.

If you do, you�ll find out too many things about me.

I have to keep some mystery to still interest you in six months' time.

Why don�t you want to act anymore?

Nothing�s more fun.

It can also be the worst humiliation there is.

If I do this film with you

it will really be my last one.

It�s cost me enough already.

You want to go back to your pots and pans?

I prefer my customers to showbusiness people.

What are we doing here?

It all seems a bit absurd to me.

Yes, I like it. Don�t you?

Not at all.

If you use me in your film

do it well.

Perhaps I still have something to give.

I want to see Dar�.

I don�t know... I can show her the city.

She doesn�t want to go out? Can I speak to her?

Really? I�m coming over.

I�ll make her change her mind. I�ll make her go out.

We aren�t tourists. No need to come over.

First I have to tame her and it�s going to take some time.

- Is it Jean? - Yes.

She says hi.

The work is just being born, don�t you get it?

Weird...

- Can we find a taxi around here? - Let�s walk towards the river.

- You don�t have too many scruples. - Why?

The way you use people.

You used me to shag a girl. I could have seen it coming.

I just don�t pay you to gallivant in New York.

And you�re wrong about Dar�.

You�re surprising and disappointing me.

You�re letting me down now that you�ve achieved your goal.

- You just wanted to sleep with her. - Stop your nonsense.

You say this worid confuses you.

But instead of looking around you stay in your hotel room.

Look, isn�t this gigantic?

You close yourself down in a corner.

- There�s plenty to do. Can�t you see? - Yes, sure.

- But it�s irrelevant. - Okay, let�s talk.

You�re a bastard, you use your position to steal Dar� from me.

And she's a bitch too. She slept with me and now with you.

You should never have done that. And you�re wrong about me.

- And you�re in breach of our contract. - How?

You�re supposed to be intelligent, it�s implicit.

Now you�re not showing very much intelligence.

You can�t even find a taxi.

We�ve been here for half an hour.

- Why can�t we find a taxi? - I don�t care.

I love Dar� and I feel like punching you in the face.

- Oh! - What?

Stop it, stop it! Enough!

Two men fighting in the street is extremely vulgar.

Dar� wouldn�t like it at all.

- Did I hurt you? - No. Piss off!

In films when men fight it looks real but in fact...

if they really hit that way they'd break their jaws.

- Why isn�t it ever realistic? - Cut the crap.

I�m off to the airport. I�ll take the first flight available.

You can sit on your film.

If you ever make it, your shit film!

No need to be rude.

Come back! Jean, come on, come back!

What has he done to you? He�s just here to see me.

- I�ve had it with all this havoc. - What�s up?

Nothing, he�s just a bit agitated.

Calm down, calm down.

What do you decide? I have to go home. I�m broke.

And all this is getting a bit ridiculous.

What do you want to do?

I�ll go too.

Let�s go tomorrow, okay?

Two glasses, please. Thank you.

Look who�s here!

- Were you waiting for us? - I was.

Hello.

I�m happy to see you.

- You�ve missed us, right. - Yes.

- But I managed without you too. - I bet.

- I�m really happy you stayed, though. - Me too.

- How do you say �bastard� in Italian? - What?

See that guy over there? He bought the car, he�s a thief.

- You want to insult him? - Sure. He paid peanuts for it.

- You can say �stronzo�. - Stronzo...

Hey, hey! Stronzo!

- Thief! - Are you talking to me?

Sorry, I didn�t hear very well.

Who�s that guy?

Let�s go outside and you can repeat that to me.

- Happy with the car? - What�s with you?

Hey, gentle!

Aldo, leave him alone, okay?

And you go and sit down. Sit down.

It�s always a drama with you.

You puncture a tyre, you get in a fight...

- You�re bad luck. - It�s him, that arsehole.

Hey...

So what do we do now?

I�m alone, you�re two.

We won�t eat you. We�ll work together.

The way things go in this worid, it�s work or barbarism.

So, what do we do? Shall we stay in Chioggia?

No, we have to go home. I have no money left.

It�s a shame. I would have liked to stay.

We�ll be back.

And to suit our business we could live in a m�nage � trois.

Sure...

If I were you I�d forget about it.

Shall I tell you about my life?

Later.

I won�t tell everything. I have a secret.

Everyone has a secret to keep.

We could tell the story of two guys...

who want to make a film.

They�re looking for an actress but she�s not interested.

One guy falls in love. We�re not sure about the other one.

Okay, we�re leaving tomorrow.

Stay a little longer. If you go now, I�ll feel abandoned.

We�ll go the day after, then.

Night slowly fell over Chioggia

but Jean slept a light sleep.

He'd decided to get up before dawn

for reasons he thought imperative.

Where are you taking me?

We�re going to fetch Dar� to watch something extraordinary.

Better be extraordinary. It�s five in the morning.

She lives here.

Wait for me, I�ll get her.

Good morning, Paul.

- You okay? - Where are we going?

15 minutes walk away.

- 15 minutes? - Yes.

Hurry up.

- Here. - Thank you.

True, you don�t get to see this often.

Paul thought about Dara�s secret.

He liked the fact she was never going to tell it,

that not everything is visible or to be seen by everyone.

He also knew

that stories start and end with scares.

It was nearly the end of May

and the seasons showed a certain sense of irony.

The ice on the lake had melted.

The ghosts of the valley had left but had come back.

Paul liked that.

Subtitles by Ausminx for KG