All language subtitles for Fanny.1932.Criterion.1080p.BluRay.x265.HEVC.FLAC-SARTRE.mkv

Marius, bring some rum.
Fanny is sick.

Come on, Marius!

Where is that boy? Good Lord!

Send Marius up here!

Make room!

- My poor child!
- It's all right.

Open the bedroom door.

And get rid of all these people!

You too. Scatter these idiots.

Go home!

It's nothing, Honorine. Don't worry.

Look, she's feeling better already.

What happened?

- She fainted when the Malaisie left.
- The Malaisie?

The ship that set sail this morning
for a five-year trip to Australia.

She fainted because a ship left?

Yes, because Marius is on board.

He's on the ship?

Marius? César's son?

Yes, and Fanny knows it.

What about César? Does he know?

He doesn't suspect anything.

Darn! There's bound to be trouble.

Pity the first person he sees
after hearing about this.

For him, it'll be a disaster.
I wonder how he'll hold up.

Full speed astern.

Come, Fortunette.

She's feeling better now. She
opened her eyes and is speaking.

- Have you seen Marius?
- Not since this morning.

He must have bumped
into a friend.

I won't tell him off, not today.

I can tell you,
now that it's almost official.

The kids are going to be married.

Really?

That's good news.

But...

But what?

It's no great surprise.
Everyone was expecting it.

Still, it makes me happier
than you can imagine, Honoré.

I'll be able to resume living.

It's almost as if I were engaged.

And maybe, in a year's time...

Isn't it great?

Of course, it's great.
If that's what you like.

But some people can do
without all that.

No need to be bitter.
I know what you're thinking.

You're playing hurt
because a few days ago,

you also proposed to Fanny.

No, that's not it at all.

Don't try to hide it.
I can see you're hurt.

Come on, old girl!

You have to be "phisolophical"
about all this.

What do you expect? Young people
are made for each other.

It's only natural.
You need to accept it.

You're right.
What you just said is very true.

- You must accept what's happened.
- There you go.

You have to tell yourself
that what happened had to happen.

And when you have friends,
or just one good friend,

you know he'll do his best

to help and comfort you
to soften the blow.

You're really upset, huh?

No, I'm fine.

But I'm saying that if one day,
fate deals you a terrible hand...

you can count on your old friend,
Panisse, to share in your grief.

Very kind of you, Honoré,
but today is a day for celebrating!

- Monsieur.
- Madame.

After what happened this morning
and in spite of your son's absence,

I insist that you immediately ask
for my daughter's hand.

Although
it gives me no satisfaction,

owing to our different fortunes
and status -

- Excuse me?
- and especially your bad temper...

I stand in for my son, Marius,
to ask for your daughter's hand.

Well, Monsieur,
while I am none too pleased either,

for the same reasons as you,
only in reverse,

I nevertheless grant you
my daughter's hand.

However, I do regret it heartily.

Now, tell me, what made her faint
in your bar? What did you do?

Nothing, Honorine!

Put yourself in her shoes.

A widow's daughter.

I'm not blaming you,
you didn't kill your husband.

Still, there's no man in the family.
And what's more, it's a poor family.

- Excuse me?
- Let me go on.

A widow's daughter
and nearly destitute.

Suddenly, she's engaged to marry
a wonderful man. My son.

Heir to a fantastic bar. My bar.

What's a girl to do?

She's overjoyed.
So naturally, she faints.

Naturally, of course. Becoming part
of your family is such an honor.

But for you, we'd want for food.

I didn't mean to -

You didn't, but you said it anyway.

Of course,
the prettiest girl in Marseille faints

at the idea of marrying a barman.

Look at your future father-in-law.
He's already insulted me.

Don't fight, Mother. It's not worth it.

- He's gone.
- Who?

What did she say?

He's gone, César. He left us.

Where did he go?

He left
on the Malaisie this morning.

He's gone for five years.

What are you saying?

He's been dying to go
for a long time.

Boats were his passion.

He was mad about them.

He found a job on the Malaisie.

That brat abandoned you
after what he's done to you?

Is that any way to behave, César?

He would have stayed
had I told him to, Mother.

But I couldn't stand
to see him suffer.

He was consumed
by his love for the sea.

So this morning, I told him
I didn't want him any longer.

That I didn't love him anymore.

He left!

César, my old friend César.

You're lucky
not to have any children.

One minute! I'm measuring here!

What is this? A joke?

Excuse me, it's no joke.
It's a game of boules.

I'm the closest.

Right, so I'll clear you out.

- I'm in a hurry!
- Quiet!

You're going to throw off the player.

Lucky devil!

Congratulations, Captain.

And from 25 meters out too.

Captain, I commend you.

You're commending a cheater?

He won because he took
four steps forward.

- Me, four steps?
- Yes, you! Five, even!

I'm telling you -

And I'm telling you that I'm leaving.
Great game!

First, I'm cheated on,
and soon I'll be poisoned in a dive.

I saw your wife's fish soup.

I wouldn't feed it to my dog
and I don't even own one.

The fish in it haven't swum
since the last Olympic games.

And the water she draws
from your pond to fill the pan

is full of tadpoles.

Which one of you liars wants
to answer to that?

Don't say anything, Monsieur Brun,
what's the use?

That's right, don't say anything!
Give me my parasol!

- Come on!
- Give me my parasol.

Give me that!

You have one day off. Whatever
made you invite that fat crook?

Since Marius left a month ago,
he's been impossible.

If you ask me, he's going mad.

Yes, he's gone from bad to worse.

I once knew a man like him.

His brain softened
and melted inside.

When he shook his head to say no,
you could hear it...

splashing about.

What an odd case.

Very odd.

- You don't believe me?
- Of course.

I saw an even odder case.

Instead of softening,
the brain dried up.

Incredible!

It shriveled like a chickpea.

As he walked along,

his tiny brain bounced around
his big head and rang like a bell.

Especially on cobble streets.

Stop it.
You story is totally unbelievable!

Just like yours.

Honoré, if you're a man, say in front
of everyone you think I'm a liar.

- Of course, I do.
- Come on, Captain!

Well, Honoré, I regret to inform you
that you are absolutely right.

Cheers!

Why is he pacing like that?

- He's waiting for the mailman.
- Like every morning.

And every evening.
He's always waiting.

His son must write him a letter
every day. He's anxious to read it.

I think he's waiting for his son's
first letter. He hasn't written yet.

Exactly!

Same with Fanny.
She also waits for the mailman.

Poor thing, she'll die waiting.
If you ask me, they both will.

Finished already?
At 7:00 in the morning?

No, I'm not finished. I'll leave
the fish to Miette. She'll sell it.

My little Fanny is sick, so I have
to go replace her on her stall.

- She's been sick a lot, no?
- She's not feeling well at all.

I'm sure he's right
and that Marius hasn't written.

And what hurts is he can't tell
anyone. That's the worst.

He bottles it all up and it swells
up inside him until he chokes up.

Sorrow is like a tapeworm,
you know. You have to evacuate it.

You're right, Félix.

I'm sure that if we could make him
talk to us, he would be relieved.

So, you want to open his valves

to let off some steam
and reduce the pressure?

Exactly.

We have
to make him confide in us.

It won't be easy. But we can try.

After all, he won't eat us alive.

And in a week, it would be too late.

You're right.
He's going to scream and howl,

maybe break everything,
but that's just too bad.

Hesitating would be cowardly.
We must do it.

And we will do it.

- You do it, Honoré.
- Me?

Why not?

All right, but you must back me up.

Count on me. I'll be the submarine.

I'll keep my distance,

and while he answers
your broadside,

I'll dive and torpedo him.

Right, so let's go.

Expecting someone?

Me? Who would I be expecting?

I don't know.

Monsieur Panisse,
why are you spying on me?

Who pays you and why?

I'm not spying on you.

No? Then why ask with inquiring
eyes if I'm expecting someone?

I couldn't care less whether
you're expecting someone or not.

- That's all I ask for.
- You got it.

- What about your torpedo?
- Wait.

- Say, César.
- What?

I get the feeling you're
waiting for the mailman.

Me? Waiting for the mailman?
Why?

I don't know. Maybe to see if
he has a letter from your son, right?

Stop it right there, Félix.

Don't meddle in my family affairs.

I don't ask you if your wife
is having an affair

with the Weights
and Measures officer, do I?

No, but thanks to you,
I just found out. Good Lord!

Your torpedo just self exploded!

Don't worry. It's not true, Félix.

True or false, I don't care.

And you, Félix, should
follow my lead and stay discreet.

Don't ask me about Marius.

And the same applies to you.

- I didn't ask you anything.
- Neither did I.

You don't ask anything,
but you have a way of talking

that sounds as if you want to know.

You're trying to force me to confide.

Not at all!

I'm not trying to find out anything!

So, after 30 years of friendship,
you don't care what happens to me.

- Come on, César.
- Yes, Honoré!

That's what you said.
You don't care.

If you don't want to speak to us,
don't. And if you want to, do!

I knew
you'd end up interrogating me.

All right, if you insist, I'll talk.

- Nobody is forcing you.
- Yes, you are.

-But I -
-Monsieur Brun, leave me alone!

The least you can do is listen.

- Go ahead, César. Speak.
- Right.

I can see it in your eyes
and everybody else's...

that you pity me.

I know what you're saying
behind my back.

He's all alone in that big house.
He neglects the bar.

He's had no news from his son
and it's breaking his heart.

Since that's what you're saying,

since you give so much importance
to something so trivial,

let me explain myself
once and for all.

Yes, explain yourself
and everything will be clear.

Earlier, Félix, you asked me
if I was waiting for the mailman.

Well, no, I'm not waiting for him.

Because when a son is brave
enough to desert his old father

and doesn't write even once
in 29 days...

it's hardly likely he'll do so
on the 30th.

He couldn't send a letter
before his first stop, in Port Said.

According to the papers,

the Malaisie reached Port Said
12 days ago.

Letters take two weeks -

Mail boats take only nine days.

But they don't sail every day.

- You really think so?
- Of course. I'm sure of it.

Anyway, why waste our time
talking about this? I don't care.

Don't pretend you don't care.

Let's imagine
it entered the boy's head

to write a letter every day
to his father.

A few words to say he's all right
and thinking of him,

knowing how sad he must be.

And imagine he set
these letters aside every night

so that when he reached Port Said,
he put the whole stack in the post.

Imagine
the mailman entered this bar

and said, "César, this is for you."

And he gave me
this three-kilo package.

Enough reading matter
to last the whole night through.

Well, I would take the package,
put it under the counter

and I wouldn't even open it.

Because I just don't care.

Come on, don't tell me
you don't love your son.

I never said that!
But after what he did to me.

- What did he do, really?
- Yes, what did he do?

My God, what did he do? Really?

Yes, César.
What has he really done to you?

He left! That's what he did.

At 20,
that boy had no right to leave?

No, Monsieur!
Not without warning me first!

- That's true.
- But what could you have done?

I would've stopped him.

With a kick up the backside?

Of course!

I would have turned him off
the sea for good.

Thank goodness he kept quiet.

Go ahead.
Congratulate the ungrateful,

approve of his rebellion.

You heard? This man is a Bolshevik
who wants to wreck families.

You expect me
to put up with this in my own bar?

After all, César,
if a man wants to go to sea -

A man? What man?

Marius. He's a man, no?

Marius? A man?

He's 23 years old.

- At his age, you were married.
- Of course.

- You were a man.
- Me? Yes.

- So what's true for you isn't for him?
- No.

- And why is that?
- It's different for me.

Because I'm not my son.

With all due respect, I believe
you're being very selfish.

- That's telling it to you.
- Indeed!

You have no right stopping him.

He can sail anywhere he likes,
just so long as it isn't on water.

So, where should he go?

I meant not out at sea.

He can sail like you, in the harbor,
or on a river or some pond.

Lord! Sailing isn't the only way
to make a living!

Does Monsieur Panisse sail?

No, he has more sense than that.

He makes sails.

He makes sails so the wind can
carry other men's sons away.

Do you have anything for me?

No, nothing.

I only deliver the letters.
I don't write them.

A letter from Port Said.
It's very thick.

It's from Marius.
It says so on the back.

Read it, César. Open the letter.

Put it there.

- Open it.
- Go on. For Fanny's sake.

You may be interested in hearing
from that fake sailor, but not me.

He's dying to read it, but he'll
never do it while we're here.

Let's leave discreetly.

Good idea.

Do you agree?

Yes, I agree.

You agree, but you're not moving.
You want to see it all.

After all the gibes I've endured
in this bar about being from Lyon,

I'm entitled to say this.

In Lyon,
we know the meaning of decency.

Decency? What's he talking about?

He's right. Come on, let's go.

You, get up too!

Off you go, little snoop!

You're not looking good, Fanny.
You should go see a doctor.

What for?

He'll tell you what's wrong.

He'll see if you're anemic,

prescribe something
that'll give you an appetite.

You know my mother. If I mention
a doctor, she'll think I'm dying.

Why don't you go alone then?

Go see Dr. Venelle. He's my
physician, a good family man.

Go in the afternoon.

If you want, I'll give you the money.

Thanks, Panisse, but I can pay.

Cheer up. I'm sure you're
mentioned a lot in that letter.

I doubt it.

You have doubts,
but lots of hope also.

What a silly thing love is.

More miserable than silly.

Don't worry. César is in his kitchen
learning that letter by heart.

Before long, all of Marseille
will have heard about it.

Fanny, darling! Come here!

There he is.

He's fine. Here, read it to me again.

Go ahead.

"Dear Father,

Forgive me for upsetting you.

I know how sad you must be.
I think of you every night."

And I think of you all day too, idiot!

Carry on.

"It's difficult to say why I left
and where that longing came from,

but ask Fanny, she can explain.

She knows about my madness."

Madness, exactly. That's the word.
I'm glad he realizes it.

"Now, let me describe my life.

At first, I helped in the galley."

What fine meals they must've had!

After a month, there would only be
skeletons left. A real ghost ship.

"But a sailor fell into the hold
and hurt his leg,

so I took his place on deck."

And now comes the horrible part.
You'll see.

"I couldn't send this earlier because
we had big problems in Port Said.

Since a member of the crew
fell sick and died,

the Port Authorities thought
it was the plague

and put us in quarantine."

The plague, my God, on his ship!

When one of his schoolmates
had the mumps,

I kept Marius at home for a month
to protect him.

And now,
he has the plague up to here!

He didn't catch it.

No, but he nearly did
and it's an awful disease.

Your neck swells
and your mouth stays wide open.

Your tongue is swollen
and thick as a bull's.

And your navel, bloated
and black like a sea urchin.

Marius, when are you going
to stop breaking our hearts?

Carry on reading.

The plague. Lord.

"The port doctors examined
the corpse

and said it wasn't the plague."

Very well!

"So now,
we're free to leave for Aden.

The trip is fabulous.

But sadly, we didn't stop
on our way here,

though we passed several islands,
including the one where Athens is,

a famous city
that used to be a Roman fortress."

You can tell he's with scientists.

"Everything is fine
and I like the life we're living.

I am now in charge
of the oceanographic devices."

I couldn't read that bit.

"We're going to use them soon

to measure the depth
of the Indian Ocean."

You realize that, Fanny?

That boy couldn't measure a drink,
but now he's measuring the sea.

What sea? The ocean.
And the Indian Ocean at that!

"The scientists are very kind to me."

Of course, they are.
Now, here's a bit about you.

"Anyway, I am fine and I hope
that you and Fanny are well too."

You see, he's thinking about you.

"Let me know how she's doing..."

"How she's doing," see?

"...and about her wedding
to Panisse.

I'm sure she'll be very happy.

Wish her well for me."

"For me." You see?

"Write to me...

care of the Malaisie in Aden.

We should be there September 15.

With all my love. Your son, Marius."

"Your son, Marius."

At the bottom, he wrote...

"Don't worry about me.
I'm happier than a fish in water."

Yep. He's happy.

He leaves us high and dry,
but he's over the moon.

That's the way he is.
But there you are.

I don't suppose he has much time

and the boat goes up and down
all the time, making it hard to write.

Of course, I would have liked a few
more loving words for me.

And especially for you, Fanny.

But then again, maybe when
he was about to write you

something special and sentimental,

he was called away
to measure the ocean.

That's all I can figure.

Anyway,
there'll be lots of other letters.

Come on, Fanny,
let's write him back.

But I'm too clumsy to hold a pen,
so you do it.

Let's go into the kitchen.
It'll be quieter there. Come.

Keep an eye on the stall
and shut the bar.

We're closed for correspondence.

Come. Let's go.

Here. Take that.

Sit down.

Ready?

"My dear son...

I have finally received your letter.

It's not very long.

I hope your next one will run
at least ten pages.

Or even 20.

What you say about the scientists
is most interesting.

But, when you're measuring
the depths of the sea...

don't lean over too far
or you could fall overboard.

And, if the sea is very deep,

leave the job to another man."

I know what Marius is like.

When he was younger,
we went fishing in Panisse's boat.

He leaned over to see his fishing
line and fell into the water.

Mind you, his head was heavier
than his bottom back then...

and all that's changed now.

Where were we? Read the last bit.

"Leave the job to another man."

Underline "another."
More than once, press hard.

"And if someone has the plague...

don't go near him.

Keep him at bay,
even if he's your best friend.

Friendship is all very well,

but the plague
is the end of the world.

Of the world.

Here, everything is fine.

Except for the anger I felt
when you left...

and which is still with me.

With me.

Poor little Fanny...

is not feeling very good.

She hardly eats a thing.

She's very pale.

The whole neighborhood
has noticed.

All day long, they keep repeating...

Fanny's heart is going to fail her,
whereas with César, it'll be his head.

Furthermore, Honorine looks at me
with murder in her eyes.

Whenever I see her,

I'm scared she'll draw a gun.

It sends shivers down my spine.

My spine."

Why aren't you writing anymore?

What's the point? If you say
all that, you'll only hurt him.

But he hurt us, didn't he?

What's the use
of getting back at him?

I imagine you're right.

Then what shall we write?

Wait. I'll make it up for you.

Not yet. Tell me out loud first.

Tell me.

Well, we'll say...

"Fanny is the same as always.

Nothing is set regarding
her wedding to Panisse,

as far as I know."

That's excellent.

"Fanny hasn't changed.

Sometime,
we say nice things about you

on the terrace outside the bar.

Sometimes, at night,
when it's quiet...

and Escartefigue, Panisse
and Brun are talking...

it's as if you weren't really
all that far away.

It's as if you'd just gone
to the station

to fetch Fanny's baskets.

You'll be back in a moment,
wearing your panama hat...

and your neckerchief."

Why, you little -

Is that Escartefigue's stoker?

On top of that,
that orange was rotten.

You could have at least
used a fresh one.

I didn't recognize you.

Come here or I'll call the police!

Bend over so I can kick your butt.

- Not too hard.
- Turn around!

I didn't do it on purpose.
I thought you were an American.

An American?

I only saw you from behind.

He thought I was an American.

Everything is possible.

At ease.

I forgive him.

But next time you see an American,

make sure it isn't me.

Yes, Monsieur Panisse.

Claudine, get the door.

My God, Honorine!

It's a man in a top hat.
Maybe it's the bailiff!

I don't owe anyone anything!

Come in, sir.

Will you look at that!

If it isn't Master Panisse.

Of course, it's me. Hello, ladies!

How are you, Monsieur Panisse?

Fine, Claudine. And you?

Never better, as you can see.

Yes, you're looking fine.

You too. When you first came in,
you scared me.

I'm back from the wedding of an old
friend, Ulysse Pijeautard.

Hence the formal wear.

- And the white gloves.
- As you can see.

It suits you well.

- Sit down, Monsieur Panisse.
- Sit right here.

Well, dear Honorine,
since I'm all dressed up,

it seemed a perfect moment
to ask again a certain question

whose answer will influence
my entire future.

I wish to marry your daughter.

But you knew that already.

Now, do you accept or not?

Of course I do.

Keep out of this, idiot!

You heard what happened
since we last spoke about this?

Yes, I know.

- Marius. He -
- I know.

Don't insist. He says he knows.

- Not everything.
- I know all I need to know.

Everything, Panisse?

I'd rather not talk about Marius.

Talk about the weather,
the cost of life, even taxes,

but not Marius.

You think I like to talk about him?
But I found them in bed together.

Did you have to say it?
Couldn't you keep quiet?

- Now, promise me one thing.
- What?

Don't kill her if she cheats on you.

I'm a kind man, as you just said,

but that is a right which
I simply cannot renounce.

I simply cannot.

Murderer!

You're asking the impossible.
What about our traditions?

I'm not an Englishman.
I have oriental blood.

- I'm of Turkish descent.
- Who is Turkish?

In Constantinople, there are
no cuckolds, only widowers.

So why didn't kill your first wife?

First of all,
because she never cheated on me.

And also,
she did all the accounting.

This is my final word. I'll marry
Fanny, I'd do anything for her,

but if she cheats on me,
there will be blood.

Savage!

Then it's no and no!

Wait a minute.

Of course, I wouldn't want to know
if she's cheating on me.

Spying on her would be below me.

Even if I had proof
or saw her in her lover's arms,

my faith in her would be such
that I would not believe it.

That is my exact position
on the question.

Well, that's different.

I'll come to you tomorrow evening
with my answer.

Fine. Is there reason to hope?

Of course. There's lots of hope!

Holy Mother, forgive me.

I loved him too much.

Make him come back.

Bring him back
so he can give my baby a name.

Holy Virgin,
free me from evil thoughts.

Give me the strength to live.

Give me the strength
to confess to Mother.

It will cause her so much grief.

So there you are, you little brat!

Are you going
to want every day off now?

Hi, darling.

You were out for a walk?

Now that Aunt Claudine has come
to see you, don't go sulking.

She's not sulking.

Look at her
and tell me she's not sulking.

Don't scold her.

- It's passion, can't you see?
- I don't see any passion.

Let's eat. I'm hungry
and I need to talk to you.

Fanny, help me set the table.
You must be hungry too.

Mother.

I'm going to have a baby.

- What did you say?
- My God! A baby?

Get out! You're a disgrace!

If your father was still here,
he'd kill you.

- Out the door!
- Where will she go?

On the street, like the others!

- Mother.
- Pack up and go!

Honorine, stop it!

You're worse than Zoé.
You've disgraced the family!

Get out
before I take this broom to you!

- Honorine, stop!
- My God! Get some vinegar!

You should be ashamed!

Fanny, darling.

She's paler than a ghost.

Fanny, my darling, don't die.

I forgive you, my darling. Don't die!

Don't worry, Mother.
I'm feeling better now.

Here. Take another sniff.

You see? The color is
coming back to your cheeks.

You should be red from shame!

Honorine, be quiet!

You cry when she faints, and then
you start all over again. Stop it.

Of course, it's a tragedy, but after
what you told me, it was expected.

When a girl has a lover, it's easier
for her to have a child than not.

Let me talk to her.

Fanny, dear,
are you sure about this tragedy?

And is Marius the father?

Who else could it be? She hasn't
gone to bed with all of Marseille.

So it is Marius!

I could kill him!

It just goes to show how rude he is.

Getting a young girl pregnant
is totally inconsiderate.

But what can you do?
What's done is done.

Tell me, darling,
when did you find out?

Ever since he left,
I've been feeling unwell.

I haven't been myself.

I feel sick in the morning.

Holy Mother!

So, I got scared.

I could think of nothing else,
night and day.

I cried so much, I was in a stupor.

And Marius never wrote.

- I wanted to drown myself.
- Don't ever do that!

So this morning,
I decided to go see Dr. Venelle.

He's a good doctor. A learned man.
What did he say?

That it would come in March.

A perfect month. Very nice.
The month of fools.

It's no use crying over spilt milk.

After all, it's sad to lose your honor,
but once it's done, it's done.

What are you going to do now?

I'll do anything you say
as long as you keep me.

Then everything will be all right.
No more problem. Marry Panisse.

You think he'd have me?

He asked me again this morning.

And this time, it will be yes!

What do you think?

I say that I earn a good living.

I can manage on my own.

Ideally, if Mother accepts,
I'd rather not marry.

I'd prefer to look after the baby
alone until his father returns.

If he ever does.

That sounds fine, but it's hard.

Hard? Impossible, you mean!

Listen, Fanny.

In every family, there can be
a black sheep, a tart, a slut.

Nobody minds because it's natural.

But here, it's impossible. Aunt Zoé
has already taken that place.

If you don't marry Panisse,

we'll be disgraced
and my heart will be broken.

But will he still be willing?

We told you. He asked again.

Without knowing I'm pregnant.

Fortunately, he doesn't know.

You want me to lie to him?

It would be foolish to tell him.

It would be criminal not to tell him.

Why tell him?
You're not even sure yourself.

Dr. Venelle told me this morning.

Dr. Venelle! What does he know?
He's senile and 100 years old.

Then if it isn't sure,
I don't need to marry.

You don't have
to be pregnant to marry.

Since he's there, take Panisse
and don't say anything.

Mother.

That would be monstrous.
I don't want to be that dishonest.

A woman is never dishonest
with a man.

We're in trouble
because of one man,

so let another pay for it.

I made a mistake, I know. I ruined
my life. Now, I have to deal with it.

But just because he's kind,
I can't saddle him with a bastard

and steal his family name!

I'd never be able to look anybody
in the eyes again.

I'd feel horrible.
I'd be worse than a prostitute.

How can you suggest that?

You're in no position to lecture us!

Ungrateful daughter!

Stop it, Honorine! Don't start again.

Come on!

I know it's a tragedy,
but we can still eat, no?

Come on, Fanny. Sit down.

I'm not hungry.

When you have no children,
you're jealous of those that have.

And when you do have some,
they drive you crazy!

The Holy Virgin only had one child,

and look at all the trouble
he caused her.

And he was a boy.

Sit down and let's eat.

Tell me, Honorine. Are bastards
uglier than other babies?

But sometimes,
they're stronger and cleverer.

So, what are you worrying about?

So, Monsieur Brun,
did you see the boat?

Yes, I thoroughly inspected it.

- And so?
- It seems all right for the price.

Of course, it's all right.

And it goes like the wind.

- So, one set of sails with that?
- Naturally.

Look. Here's the scale model.

And here is the material I suggest.

Just feel that.

It's light and it won't get wet at sea.
Feel the texture.

Yes, it seems perfect.

Isn't it a bit stiff?

Do you want sails, Monsieur Brun,
or trousers for the wife?

For sails, it's just what you need.

How is everything?

How are you, Monsieur Brun?
Buying sails?

Yes, I need a set for my new boat.

What? You bought a boat?

I bought the Pitalugue,
on Master Panisse's advice.

The Pitalugue?
That long, thin white boat?

Yes. You know it?

Of course. Everybody around here
knows that boat.

Come now, César!

- You didn't tell him?
- About what?

- I may have forgotten the list.
- What list? César has a list?

No, the boat lists. But just a tad.

- Is that serious?
- No. Not at all.

But when you climb aboard,
it capsizes.

Once the keel is in the air though,
it won't move anymore.

- Does that happen a lot?
- Of course not.

The boat is well known.

Around here,
it's called the submarine.

- Are you kidding?
- Of course he is.

So, you're saying the minute I set
foot on it, the boat will capsize?

Who knows? She's done it so often
that maybe now,

she's grown tired of it.

What makes the boat
inevitably capsize?

Monsieur Brun, its propeller is
too big. It draws too much water.

So, if you open the throttle,

instead of the propeller,
it's the boat that turns.

César, you're being ridiculous.

Monsieur Brun knows
the boat isn't new.

He's paying a rock-bottom price.
It's a bargain.

At that price, it's a great
opportunity, don't you think?

Sure. A great opportunity to drown.

Panisse, you know that boat
and recommended I buy it.

Tell me honestly. Does it capsize?

In life, everything capsizes,
Monsieur Brun. Especially boats.

And especially that one.

I can't guarantee
the Pitalugue won't ever capsize.

He certainly can't.

It's a risk inherent to sailing.

If you'd rather not take that chance,
buy an island, not a boat.

Exactly. Buy the Chäteau d'If,
and Panisse will make the sails.

You've really been had.

My dear César,
I haven't been had at all.

You've been trying to lure me,
but I'm not biting.

As a matter of fact, I'm going to go
try the boat at once. Out to sea.

Will you come
try out the Pitalugue with me?

All right. But, after what Monsieur
César said, it'll cost you five francs.

Of course.
Panisse, will you come with us?

I'd love to, but I can't.

Wise move.

It would be a pleasure,
but some of us have to work.

Murderer!

Monsieur Brun, wait!

Take this life preserver.

I know it'll be useless,
but it also won't do any harm.

I'm not worried at all. I know
a good boat when I see one.

- I'm a connoisseur.
- I can tell.

I've examined the boat thoroughly.

Given its line, design and build,
it can't possibly capsize.

Yet, I will do my best to tip it over.

No need to force things,
Monsieur Brun.

Just leave it to the boat.

Do you know how to swim?

So, farewell, Monsieur Brun.

What do you mean, farewell?

We'll meet in heaven.

Here we go!

Here we go.

See what you did? You're going
to cost me 1,000 francs!

Not if the boat stays afloat.

You know full well
it'll never stay afloat.

Why did you have to come over?

Because I've got something
very important to tell you.

What?

Master Panisse.

Here's a letter for you, Monsieur
César, all the way from Makassar.

It's from Marius?

So, I'll talk to you later,
once I've read my son's letter.

You can't read it here?

A child's letter you read at home.

Watch out, Monsieur Brun!

Easy does it!

That'll be ten francs!

Careful!

Bravo!

Ah, Fanny. Hello, my dear.

May I speak to you,
Monsieur Panisse?

Of course.

It's very serious.

Come on in, my darling.

So, you also have something serious
to tell me? The same as César?

No. He knows nothing about this.

So, that's two serious matters
in one day?

That's a lot of work!

But I think I know
what this serious matter is.

Your mother told you
that I asked for your hand again.

Yes, she did.

And you've come with your answer
and you don't know how to put it.

I understand.
Let me make it easy for you.

You've come to say no yet again.

Too bad. Don't worry about me.

If it's no, it's no, and that's it.
It can't be helped.

But you're wrong, Monsieur Panisse.
I haven't come to say no.

Have you come to say yes?

I would have said yes
if it were possible.

But it isn't anymore. Because
there's something you don't know.

And when you'll know, it's you
who won't want to anymore.

I owe you the truth,
even if you despise me for it.

Despise you? I'd never do that.

Besides, I already know
and so do most other people.

Twice, Marius was seen leaving
your house at the break of dawn.

What difference does it make?

If anyone says I wasn't the first,
I'll just reply,

"I was no virgin either.
What difference does it make?"

Who cares?

I don't. Quite the contrary.
And I'll tell you why I don't mind.

An elderly man marrying a young
girl doesn't seem quite fair.

But if the girl has had a lover,
it evens things up.

I can marry you without losing
my self-esteem or self-respect,

which I prize enormously.

That's how I see it.

You're so good, Master Panisse.

But there's something worse
than that.

Something
that can't be dismissed...

or undone.

What is it?

Don't make me say it.
Try to understand.

I want to. I'm trying. I'm thinking.

You're not trying.

I can tell. You know,
but you're pretending not to

because I fill you with horror.

You don't have to hide it.

You're right not to have me,
Master Panisse.

I'm a disgrace!

I don't even have the right
to kill myself!

Is it a baby, Fanny?

Fanny, tell me. Is it a baby?

You're sure?

The doctor told you?

That's why you were so pale.

Don't despise me too much.

You asked my mother for my hand.
I could have said yes.

But I had to tell you.

I would be so happy
to be your wife.

You'd marry me anyway?

I would be so grateful. Maybe
I would even come to love you.

And the baby? You'd give it to me?
I could call him my own?

That's all I ask of you.

Holy Mother.

Tell me, Master Panisse, is it true?
Do you still want me?

Say, Fanny,
did you ever look at my sign?

It says
"Honoré Panisse, Sailmaker."

Have you ever noticed the letters
are flush left to leave a space?

Come take a look.

See? See this?

This is an "F."

This is an "L."

This is an "I ."

This is an "S."

And this is "and."

"And... Son."

They've been in that drawer
for 30 years.

And I've never been able
to put them up.

But back to the matter at hand.

Have you told anyone else
about your secret?

- The doctor knows.
- He's sworn to silence. Anyone else?

Mother and Aunt Claudine.

They won't talk.
The family honor is at stake.

- And no one else knows?
- No one.

Right. So when is he due...
my child?

February or March.

Perfect. We'll say he's two months
premature! When shall we marry?

You mean it, Master Panisse?

Have you given it enough thought?
You really want to save this bastard?

Since we've come
to an arrangement...

I'll tell you everything.

You'll understand
I'm not making a sacrifice.

Come, sit down.

Sit down, my darling.

When I married Félicité,
we were both around your age.

We had to borrow money
to buy the shop.

It didn't cost much.
Back then, it wasn't worth much.

We hired one worker, then two,
then ten, then finally 30.

After seven years,
one evening, I said to my wife,

"Félicité, let's have a baby."

She blushed. She hid her face
in her hands and said,

"I've wanted one for so long,
but I never dared talk about it."

But then, my poor Fanny,

it was impossible to conceive.

I can't tell you the doctors we saw.
The waters, the candles,

all the pilgrimages and gymnastics
we went through

and that's not even the half of it.

But the plain truth is,
we'd been scared to have a baby,

and then when we wanted one,
we got turned down.

We disgusted the Good Lord.

After that, I went crazy.
About children.

Every time
I saw a man pushing a pram,

I had a fit of jealousy.

I longed
to look as ridiculous as him.

To talk baby talk.

It was a terrible blow.

I blamed Félicité and soon,
we began to quarrel.

I'd say things like,

"Why do you have to be fat,
if you're not going to have a baby?"

And she'd retort,

"if you drank less,
we'd stand a better chance."

Little by little, we grew resigned.

We lost interest in the shop.
We just sold everyday items.

While I fooled around playing cards,
others came into the business.

Renault, Peugeot and all the others
started making engines.

And that's why our poor old port
is now polluted.

Because Félicité was barren.

But now,

everything has changed!

I'm to have a wife and child
of my very own.

You're so good, Master Panisse.
I'm so grateful.

But give yourself a couple of days
before giving me your answer.

Why? You're already having
second thoughts?

You're waiting for a letter
from Marius?

I'm not counting on anyone,
except you.

But I don't want you
to act out of pity.

Pity?

What pity?
Didn't you understand what I said?

Believe me, no man ever acted
more selfishly than I am now.

I couldn't be happier!

Of course, it's best
to make your own babies,

but if you're around 50
and there's a baby ready-made,

you'd best take it and keep quiet.

I ask only one thing, Fanny.

Don't tell your mother
or anyone else that I know.

You won't say anything?

I won't say anything.

And in spite of it all, I'd still
like it to be a white wedding.

That way, everyone will think
the baby is mine.

Come quickly. I think
Monsieur Brun has just drowned.

His boat capsized.

I highly doubt it, but I have to go.

Wait for me in the dining room.
It will soon be yours.

Go acquaint yourself
with my father's furniture.

Let us through. What's going on?

Oh, my God!

He's still ticking,

but I can't tell if it's his heart
or his watch.

- That scared me!
- He's feeling better!

I have to go because if
he didn't drown, he'll come after me.

So, César,
you wanted to tell me something?

I heard you asked Honorine
for Fanny's hand.

Yes. And so?

Lately, I've heard rumors,

and I've noticed things myself.

I keep my eyes open.

I also know what you're like.

Everyone says
you're still courting her discreetly.

They say you intend
to propose again. Is it true?

Though you're my neighbor
and a friend,

I could say this is none
of your business, to begin with.

- None of my business?
- None at all.

However, since I have absolutely
nothing to hide,

I will tell you right now that yes,
I have proposed again.

This time, I wasn't turned down,

and we'll decide tonight
on a wedding date.

You're already there?

We've gone even further than that.

Well, Panisse, I'm sorry to tell you
that this wedding won't happen.

It won't? Why?
Your son is coming back?

I'm afraid not. He won't be back
for another 26 months...

when they're finished measuring.

Nevertheless, this marriage won't
happen because I don't want it to.

You're very funny.
What right do you have to forbid it?

Fanny is Marius's wife.

The town hall is a formality

we can attend to
when Marius returns.

What if Fanny doesn't want to wait?

She'll wait. Because she loves him.

So much so
that she just said yes to me.

She said yes?

Exactly. To me.

She said yes to you?

Fanny said yes to me herself.

To me personally.

I don't understand.

Oh, yes I do - only too well!

You bought her from her mother.

You went to see Honorine,

promising her an annuity
if she sold you Fanny.

Own up to it, slave trader!

You can't buy a girl,
especially not one like Fanny.

You must realize that.

I realize that this marriage is
an outrage and a disgraceful waste.

You know very well that it is.

Just what do you mean, a waste?

It's distasteful.

Dishonest.

I'm not here to act as a dictionary!

Just because two women are mad,

it's no reason
to take advantage of them.

Answer me this, Panisse.
Are you going to marry her?

That's right.

- Why?
- Because I want to.

Damn you!

Listen.

I'm afraid tempers will rise.

We'll begin shouting at each other.

And then,
I'll end up strangling you.

So... let's stay calm.

- Let's talk calmly.
- Fine by me.

Forgive me, but when
an elderly man marries a young girl,

it's not very nice.

In fact, it's unpleasant.

- It's displeasing.
- Not to me.

Now we see what you're really after.

You're marrying Fanny
because she's young and pretty

and you want to rub your leathery
old hide up against her soft skin.

Not only that.

Not only, but it's a big part of it.

I find it disgusting. I am disgusted!

And it's your right.
What can I do about it?

I'd rather you not disgust me!

In such delicate family matters,

you should behave
like a gentleman.

And not like a two-timing lout!

If you won't listen to my advice,

I'll see you at the church.

- After the wedding?
- No, before.

- What will you say?
- The first thing I'll do

is bash you over the head
with a hammer!

Then I'll take you like this...

and rough you up.

I'll step all over you

and throw your remains to the wind!

Very well.

But, if you even so much
as touch me, I'll shoot you.

With a good regulation gun!

All you need is wheels
to have yourself a cannon.

Listen, César, for 40 years,
you've called yourself my friend.

My friend?
More like a damn nuisance!

Be polite.

All that time,
you've tyrannized and belittled me.

At school,
I had to play your games.

Walking home,
I had to carry your schoolbag.

When you were punished
and given lines, I had to copy them

while you ate my sweets!

You made my life such a misery

that I used to write it all down
in a notebook.

I used to pray
that I'd become stronger than you,

so I could give you
a good thrashing!

Unfortunately,
you grew bigger than me.

You're obsessed
with being persecuted.

Then, when I fell in love with Marie
Frisette and she liked me too,

you came between us
out of jealousy!

Jealousy? She was horrible.

As thin as a rake and cross-eyed.

No, she wasn't. She was slim,
and it was only a slight squint.

But lovely even so.

Anyway, you weren't jealous of her,
but of me!

- You?
- Yes, me.

Because when I was with her,
I was no longer your slave.

That's why you came between us.

And this tyranny went on
for 30 years!

And you think I'll let you carry on?
You can't stop my marriage!

I'd rather put a bullet
through your head!

Damn!

You killed the diver.

Let it be a lesson to you.

Because I'll kill you like I killed him.

Don't be an idiot.

You were so scared
your legs were like jelly.

Anyway, I have nothing to tell you
anymore. I'll go talk to Fanny.

This wedding won't take place.

It's Fanny you want to see?

Then come this way.

Come with me.

César is determined to stop
our wedding at all costs.

- Talk to him.
- Not yet, Fanny.

He's not being fair.
He's misrepresenting things.

I say you're engaged to Marius.
He's away at the moment,

but you're waiting for him
because he'll be back.

That's the truth. Am I right?

César,
I can't wait another two years.

I knew it!
Your mother put you up to this.

Mother is right.
You can't understand.

I understand only too well
she's putting you in Panisse's bed.

Your mother never used
to be this fussy.

Wasn't she your father's mistress
before they married?

And what difference did it make?
Did it stop them being happy?

Tell Panisse you were scared.

He'll release you from your promise,
and I'll talk to your mother.

No, César, I must have a husband.

You're the one telling me this?

You must have a husband?

And you'll take any old chimp
in a bowler who comes along,

provided he's rich?

César,
I'd wait another ten years if I could.

But I can't.

Not anymore.

If Panisse wants me, I'll marry him.

It's impossible.

So, that's what
you were up to for so long.

That's why you sent Marius away.
You did it. You said so yourself!

You sent him off
so you could get rid of him.

You wanted Panisse's money,
and he's happy to give it to you.

Stop it. You're talking nonsense.

You're just like your Aunt Zoé.

She had all the old men
dancing around her.

Well, now I'm glad Marius left.

He did the right thing.
You didn't love him!

Be quiet! Quiet, I tell you!

I'll write my son
to tell him the truth.

And if he had
any feelings left for you,

I'll make sure they're gone.

Leave the poor child alone!

Tell him everything, Panisse.

If he still doesn't get it, then
he's even more stupid than mean.

What is it?

Tell him, Panisse.

- What?
- Well...

Fanny finds herself in a very
delicate position for a young girl.

- Excuse me?
- And she has to find a decent man

to repair
your sailor boy's misdeeds.

A baby?

You're with child?

And you want to steal it from me?

- What do you mean, "steal it"?
- It's my child. It's my son's baby.

You want to steal my grandchild.

You're crazy.

Fanny, look at me.

Fanny, think about it.

- I have to think of my family.
- To hell with them!

We're your family.
Marius, the baby and me!

This man has no part in it.

So, he should keep out of this.

You understand?

Come. Let's go home.

No, César.
You're forgetting something.

Marius won't be back
for another two years.

If I have a baby,
my mother will die of shame.

People don't die that easily.

In a few months,
people will start saying,

"Look at Fanny.
She must have a bun in the oven."

Imagine my mother at her stall.

Everyone will know it was Marius.

Exactly! And everybody knows
he's a nice, decent boy.

Everyone will think
he had his reasons for leaving.

- Why?
- They'll say, "if he left,

it's because he wasn't the first.
He didn't know if the baby was his."

Or, as you said so yourself
a moment ago,

"It runs in the family.
Look at her Aunt Zoé."

And you'd let her family
suffer through that?

But he'll marry her one day.
And I'm here to protect them.

Besides, she'll have a husband
in two years' time.

That remains to be seen.

Are you sure your son
will marry Fanny when he returns?

He's only written twice since he left.
And each time to you, not me.

But he always mentioned you.

Like a stranger.

Does he mention Fanny
in the letter you just received?

No, he doesn't.

- How do you know?
- Otherwise, you would have said so.

And does he speak of his return?
No, he doesn't.

Come on, César.

We're talking about Fanny's future
and honor. Admit it. Say the truth.

The truth is,
he doesn't really talk about her.

He sends his regards.

How nice of him.

But when he finds out
about the baby,

he'll marry her or I'll kill him!

What good would that do?

And who says
he'll be back in two years?

And what if he doesn't come back?

How dare you think such a thing!

Don't you sometimes think
about it?

Are you in charge of the typhoons
and cyclones?

Is it you that makes the storms?

What if his ship sank?

Come on, César.

Can you swear that Marius
will come back and marry Fanny?

Listen, Honoré,

there are eight out of ten chances
that this marriage will happen.

Well, seven out of ten chances.

Or six. Or five.

The child's life could be ruined.

Now, no one knows.

Someone can still marry Fanny,

give the baby his name
and not be ridiculous.

-But after his birth -
-He'd be nothing but a bastard.

That's true.

Later on, at school,
his friends would say,

"My father's a baker or carpenter.
What's yours do?"

He'd blush and say,
"I don't have a father."

My God.

Don't you think
I haven't thought about all this?

About my mother,
my family and the baby.

Better I become Madame Panisse.

Everyone will be pleased,
including Marius.

And if I marry her, the child
will have a father and a name.

He'll be called Panisse.

My God.

Well,
if by chance he's called Panisse,

he'd be Marius Panisse.

Of course,
since you'll be the godfather.

- Promise?
- Naturally.

That way, you can see him as often
as you like. He'd be yours too.

What's more, he'd be rich.

I've never owned up to it before.

I always said I had a modest
fortune of 600,000 francs.

But actually,
I've got double that amount.

- So, you're a millionaire?
- Plus the shop.

Which brings it to a million
and a half. Even Fanny didn't know.

Now, I only mention it
in case it's relevant.

You'd leave it all to the child?

Of course. Since he'd be my son.

So, if I leave him the bar,
he'll be even richer.

Say, Fanny,

at 20, he'll be smoking cigars
as long as my arm.

If it's not a girl.

A girl?
Don't even mention the word!

I won't have a husband
in the room.

When it's time to give birth,
your job has already been done.

Anyway, husbands always faint.

I'll call you when the child is born.

Go back to her. Quickly.
It's a premature birth.

Yes, right.

Be sure I'm the first to kiss him.

I'll see to it.

Master Panisse
says the baby is on its way.

Good. I'll be right over.

Thank you. I'm going.

Long distance?
Get me Vaison, please.

The 18 in Vaison, in the Vaucluse.

Hurry up, will you?

Where are you off to?

My brother's baby is on the way.
A little Panisse.

Your future boss.
He'll inherit all my vineyards.

If it's a boy.

I hope it's a boy.

Thank you, Honoré.

Of course.
We'll be on the first train.

Honoré says the baby
is expected tonight.

Good Lord!

He's two months premature?

What does it matter?
He'll soon be here.

And we haven't finished
the blanket. Come quickly!

- You think everything is going well?
- Of course it is. Naturally.

We men look silly when a baby
is on the way, don't we?

She's in there, in pain...

while we just stand around.

I wish I could suffer in her place.

She's quiet.

She's so brave.

I was holding her hand earlier.

The pain was so strong,
she dug her nails into my palm.

Look, César.

Poor Panisse.

Don't stay there.
Come and sit down.

Say, Amélie,

do you think they'll let us
have him sometimes?

- Who's that?
- The baby.

- You think they'll let us have him?
- Of course they will.

The sun is rising.

Dawn will break at the same time
as my son is born.

And we're Easter Sunday.

He'll be born to the sound of bells.

It's a boy!

Don't eat him all yourself!

It's a bit crooked,
but you get the gist.

Come, come.

The mother needs to rest.
I won't have you all trooping in.

He's right.

Listen, Doctor, I'm Elzéar Panisse.

Wine producer, brother to Honoré
and senior member of the family.

I'd like to see Fanny,
just for a second.

Please, let him in.
He's the head of the family.

Come.

He's beautiful.

He's beautiful.

Sister-in-law.

I only saw you once.

At your wedding.

But I speak to you
as one of the family.

Ours is an honorable
and wealthy family.

But, lately, we have been a sad one
as there were no children.

We knew, when we died,
our name would die with us.

But then, you came along.

You lie down...

and give us a beautiful baby boy.

As the eldest member of the family...

on behalf of our cousins in Vaison,
our aunts in Martigues,

our relatives in Camargue
and even on behalf of our dead,

I have traveled through the night
to express our joy.

It's a boy.

Thank you, Sister-in-law.

- How are you, Honorine?
- Fine.

He's beautiful, isn't he?

Master Panisse is
a good son-in-law.

He may not be young, but he spoils
Fanny so much that finally...

Finally, well... you know.

Finally,
you don't regret the marriage.

No, not any longer.

Of course,
she was very fond of your son...

but he chose to leave.

He fancied a sailor's life, the idiot.

Where is he now?

I don't know exactly.
Three weeks ago, he was in India.

Which reminds me,
I've got a letter of his in my pocket.

I haven't even read it yet.

What did he say
when he found out about the baby?

He doesn't know. I didn't tell him.

You did right.

Does Fanny ever speak of him?

Only in passing.

He's been gone two years now.
She could have forgotten him.

She's married now.

And her husband gave her a child.

Yes, he did.

I was amazed
when she announced it.

I was flabbergasted!

Who'd have thought it?

Who'd have thought
Panisse had it in him?

He seems so calm and passive.

He must have hidden reserves.

Anyway, he made a fine boy.

Yes, he made a fine child.

He's beautiful.

I sometimes wonder whether Marius
would have done any better.

Of course not! We can say it.

We can certainly say it.

Especially
when no one else is around.

Who is it?

- Who is it?
- Me.

- Who?
- Marius.

It's you, Marius?

It's impossible...
What's happening to me?

Is it really you?

You're itchy.

I haven't shaved in two days.

You're like a hedgehog.

Come in, come in!

Let me look at you.

Your power's been cut?

No, a fuse blew.

You grew stronger!

But why are you here?
You jumped ship? Are you ill?

You didn't get my letter?

No. Yes. I just got it.

No harm done.
I'll explain everything.

- You were eating?
- Yes, I just started.

I'm hungry too.

It smells good.

The uniform really suits you!

Sit down, my son.

Sit down. I can't eat alone.

Go on. I'm not hungry anymore.

Was all this just for you?

Yes, just a little snack.

Good.
That proves you're doing fine.

I suppose so.

Eat! Eat it all up.

Try some tomatoes
and the artichokes.

Tell me all about you!

Well, when we reached Sydney...

about eight weeks ago...

we had a serious problem.

He's a bit feverish.

A little feverish, yes.

He's teething.
One of the molars is coming out.

You can feel it.

That's children.
They always have something.

He was restless yesterday.

- Where are you going?
- To Paris.

About those gas engines?

Yes, I'm signing a contract.

Beginning Monday,
I'll be their sole agent.

You're going to sell engines?
You, the master sailmaker?

It's treason!

I know. But I'm doing it for the boy.

Take these to my wife
and tell her I caught the train.

Farewell, Panisse. Have a nice trip!

Boys, let's go out to sea

Let's sail
Sail

Hardy boys

Let's sail
Sail

Who is it?

Don't be afraid. It's me, Marius.

It's you!

I came back tonight.
I saw my father.

And I wanted to talk to you.

Or at least, to say hello.

You're alone?

I went to bed, but I couldn't sleep.

So I jumped out of the window
like I used to.

Like in the old days.

I've been outside quite some time.

Sit down.

- You want to drink something?
- Sure.

Your husband won't have one too?

He's already in bed.

Did you come back for good?

In principle, I leave in the morning,
two hours from now.

- Your ship is here?
- No, it's in Sydney.

In dry dock being repaired.

A warship was on its way home,

so they sent us back on it
with some damaged equipment.

These devices have to be repaired
by their makers in Paris.

Precision instruments, you see?

It's all highly scientific.

I asked to be part of the team.
Why?

Because I was homesick.

Of course. You would be homesick
for your father.

Yes, my father. And Marseille.

And everyone else.

Everyone.

But I could stay if I wanted to.
I could exchange postings.

- What do you mean?
- I could easily swap.

Because the pay on the Malaisie
is very good.

Chauveau and I have always
kept in touch.

He's on the Corsica ferry,
but he'd take my place anytime.

He has the same craving,
you know?

For faraway places.

You don't crave them anymore?

So, you're not happy at sea?

If it's the life you choose,
you have to be happy.

Otherwise, you'd just be silly.

Of course, I'm happy.

Are you?

Yes, I have a good husband.

- And a nice home.
- A nice home.

A nice home and a lovely child.

A truly lovely child.

- Your father told you?
- Yes, just now.

What else did he say?

- About what?
- My son.

What else should he say?

I suppose you think your son
is wonderful and unique.

Of course. And he is.
He's beginning to walk.

Already?

My father said
he was only eight months old.

Isn't that a bit soon?

He's a little over eight months,
and he's very precocious.

So, you're very happy?

It's all worked out well, didn't it?

I'm glad to see you so happy
and looking so well.

You look fine too.

- It's the sea air.
- Me, it's the quiet life I lead.

Quiet and happy.

Yes, Marius,
my quiet and happy life.

Well, good-bye, my dear Fanny.

You'll be back after Paris?

No, we're sailing on a British
steamer. They're good boats.

Tell your husband
I was sorry to miss him.

All right.

Let's sail
Sail

Who is it?

Madame Panisse,
I have a message for you.

Dear Madame Panisse,

these flowers are
from your husband.

You see, it was like this.

We were just leaving this party
given for railway employees -

Let me speak.

When we met Master Panisse
who gave me these flowers

and asked me
to deliver them to his wife

and tell her he'd caught his train.

So there you are.

Bless the prettiest one!

By now, the express will have left.

And Monsieur Panisse is
on his way to Paris.

May the Good Lord protect him.

May the Holy Mother watch
over him.

Amen.

Boys, let's go out to sea

Let's sail
Sail

Hardy boys

Let's sail
Sail

Is it true about your husband?

Why didn't you say so?

Are you scared of me?

Of course not.

It's no use talking. Go away.
We mustn't stir up the past.

We don't have to stir it up.
It's already been done.

Why did you marry Panisse
so quickly?

Why wasn't I told about your son?

How is it that Panisse suddenly
became a father at 50?

I don't know. Go away!

And the birth seven months
after the wedding?

- How do you know?
- It's written on this card.

The date of his baptism
and the date of birth.

He was premature.
These things happen.

Yes, these things happen.

Earlier, you said he was eight
months old, but he's ten months.

You didn't want me
to get any ideas?

It's no use. Go away.

I know the truth now.

That child is mine, isn't he?

And I'm a criminal.

No, you're not a criminal.

It's not your fault.

Why did you let me go
without saying anything?

Why didn't you write?

You were leaving for five years!

For Mother's sake, I told Honoré.

He took me as I was.

My dear Fanny.

Forgive me.

I forgave you a long time ago.

You just didn't understand my love.

Or my own. I didn't realize
how much I loved you.

At first, I was happy on that ship.

I know. I read your first letters.

I hardly thought about you.
It was all over.

But then, it started to creep back.

Especially at night, in my hammock.
I kept thinking of you.

Stop it, Marius.

I began to realize I'd been stupid.

But I thought
I could put it behind me.

That it would soon be over.

But, no, it wouldn't go away.

Quite the opposite.

As we entered the South Seas,
it grew worse and worse.

When I closed my eyes,
it all came back.

I could see you
with your big straw hat.

I could see you
walking on the docks.

I could hear the sound
of your clogs.

I could smell your skin.

Stop it, Marius.
You mustn't. It's not right.

- It's too late now.
- I could see you everywhere.

Then one day, off the Carolinas,
something terrible happened.

Try as I might,
I couldn't remember your face.

I couldn't remember you anymore.

I closed my eyes and tried
as hard as I could.

But it was pitch black.

I'd lost you.

So I asked Father
to send me a picture of you.

And when we arrived in Tahiti...

there was a letter.
Father had sent a picture.

Your wedding picture.

You'd been married for a month.

Since I didn't know why, I cried.

I cried too.

If I came back,
it's to see if you still love me.

You still do. I was right.

You still love me.

Fanny, darling, let me kiss you.

No, children.

Don't do it.

Panisse is a good man.

Don't make a fool of him
in his own house.

- Who told you I was here?
- A little bird, as usual.

Is that right?

Why didn't you tell me
the child was mine?

The child? What child?

- César, I told him everything.
- Maybe you shouldn't have.

Why hide the fact that I have rights
over her... and the child.

Rights? I don't know about that.

I'm very fond of you, Father...

but keep out of this.

Very well put, Marius.

You've become a real man.

You no longer respect your father.
It's normal.

But,
in the absence of Fanny's husband,

you have no right being here.

- Get out.
- I'm staying here!

You're going to follow your father.

What Panisse did is honorable.
He gave Fanny a home.

Gave your son a name.

And now that he's away,
working for your child's future,

you're going to sneak in like a thief
and steal away his wife?

We've had a bit of everything
in our family, Marius.

Pirates, smugglers, fools,

and even a simple barman like me.

But never a scoundrel.

You're staying?

All right. Then I'm staying too.

Your father is right.

- My husband!
- Working late?

You missed the train?

No, but as I was boarding,
I saw Dr. Cigalon.

And he told me that...

As you can see, we have visitors.

- Good evening, Marius.
- Good evening, Master Panisse.

- You're back?
- Yes.

Only for a few hours.
He has a short pass.

Tell us.
Why did you miss the train?

Dr. Cigalon told me Miette's child
has whooping cough.

And his mother kept it quiet.

She's been borrowing our toys.

She brought this doll back
this morning.

Whooping cough
is a terrible disease.

It's an invisible germ, a million
times smaller than a mosquito.

Look as you may, you can't see it.

It has terrible hooks.

It jumps on children
and clamps down on their throats.

They suffer terribly.

Did he touch this doll?

How is the boy?

A bit hot.

Good Lord!

I'll give that girl Miette
a piece of my mind

when I see her tomorrow.

Don't worry, Honoré.

Go check his temperature.

So...

how long will you be on leave?

It depends.

On your captain?

It depends on Fanny and you.

That's clear and frank at least.

I don't understand.

In the past, as today,
and even when I was far away,

I always considered Fanny
my fiancée.

You "considered"?

That's a fine word.

But I don't need
to consider anything.

Fanny is simply my wife.

My wife and the mother of my child.

Are you sure he's your son?

Listen, Marius.

For two years,
I've been expecting your return.

I've never gone to bed
without thinking,

"What if he comes back tomorrow
and wants it all back?

What will I say?"

For over two years,
I've had time to choose my words.

But now that you're here,
I don't know what to say anymore.

Honoré, don't worry.
He doesn't look ill.

- His temperature?
- Normal.

He doesn't have whooping cough!

Sit down, Fanny.

So, what is it you want exactly?

I made a mistake two years ago.

But why should this ruin
several people's lives?

- What people?
- Fanny, me, my father and my son.

What about me?

You've had two years of happiness,
and I'm grateful for what you did.

But now, you must
give me back what's mine.

That's pushing it a bit.

It's easy to ask others
to make sacrifices.

Well, here's my answer.

I feel like an intruder
when I see you two together.

Yes, an intruder.

Maybe I should do the decent thing
and go kill myself.

I'd willingly die for you, Fanny.

But if I died,
I'd never see my son again.

So I absolutely refuse to do it.

No one is asking you to do it.

No one has asked me,
but I asked myself.

Don't feel sorry for me.

If you still love this young man...

forget me. You're free to go.

What you say is fine
and unselfish...

- but there's the child.
- The child?

The child is ours!

You want me to give him up?

Have my eyes, my heart,
but not him!

So much for your generosity.
You give the wife but keep the child.

Because you think that the wife
may stay because of the child!

If you're sincere,
give me back my son.

No, Marius,
you will not have the boy!

You may persuade his mother.

Or she may ask for him one day,
but don't you try.

You're young.

You can have other children.
Let me keep mine.

He's my only son, the first and last!

I would never take him from you.

An ordinary child I might part with,
but this one is a marvel.

Marius,
you were a handsome boy...

but he's even more beautiful.

All this is very fine, but -

- He coughed.
- He did?

I didn't hear a thing.

No one heard a thing, but I did.

Where did he go?

The cough is more important
than all this.

If he's mine,
I should do the worrying.

Exactly. But you don't.

Marius, he's not yours.

You were only his father
before he was born.

- What?
- Not after.

Once a father, always a father.

When the baby was born,
he weighed four kilos.

Four kilos of his mother's flesh.

Now, he weighs nine kilos.

Do you know what
those other kilos are made of?

Love.

And yet love is light.

You need a lot of love
to make five kilos.

I gave my share and so did Fanny.

But Panisse contributed the most.

And what have you given?

Life.

Life? Right.

Dogs give life too.

No, Marius.
You didn't want that child.

All you wanted was pleasure.

You didn't give him life. He took it.
That's different.

Who's the father? The one who gave
life or the one who buys the milk?

The father is the one who loves.

Marius,
you were the father of a bastard.

The father of a child with no name,

borne by a poor, desperate girl.

Where is that child now?

He doesn't exist. He isn't mine.

Mine was born in a fine, large bed,

surrounded by his family.

Come on, Marius. Don't try to bite off
more than you can chew.

You can't have that child.
He's too firmly rooted in his family.

So, you're betraying me too.

Me? Betray you?

No, Marius, I never betrayed you.

I have never betrayed our love.

Since your father is here
to save us from ourselves...

I can tell you everything.

I love you, Marius.

I still love you.

I love you as much as before,
if not more.

Every morning,
I see you in my son's smile.

When you came in through
the window tonight, I nearly fainted.

If you'd have taken my hand,
I would have gone with you.

I'd have gone with you anywhere.

But then... what about my son?

Take him.

I can't! The law and God forbid it.
Panisse saved me.

He gave me his name
and my self-respect back.

At the birth,
I drove my nails into his palms.

He said, "Bite me, scratch me.

The more you hurt me,
the more he's mine."

And he put up with it all night long.

He still bears the scars.

He bears the scars, Marius.

Not you.

Go. Go away.

Back to sea.
That's what you wanted.

Leave me here with our child.

But remember this, Marius,
and maybe it will cheer you up.

There's a woman
who thinks about you...

every night.

A girl who'd like to lie beside you,
wrap herself in your warmth.

Who'd like to wake up
with your arms around her.

She'd touch your hair and put
her hands on your drowsy lips.

What about you, Father?

What would you have me do?

Catch your train.

- You want me gone too, huh?
- No, it's not me.

No, it isn't just you.
She also can't wait for me to go.

Don't be too hard on her.

She loves you. She told you so.

But her heart goes one way
and her instincts, the other.

It's not her heart that loves you.

She's the saddest one of all.

None of us is sending you away,
neither me, her nor Panisse.

But you're a danger
to your child's future.

He's the one sending you away.

And you don't defend me.

You don't love me anymore,
Father?

Of course, I still love you.

Only you're a big man...

and he's small.

He's so small.
That's what makes him strong.

The small ones take everything.

But when you're strong, Marius...

you don't wait for them
to take things.

You give it to them instead.

I'm off to the train station.

Marius,
say good-bye to Madame Panisse.

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

And you're the only one
I've ever loved.

Come along, my son.