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Curtain-up in 5 minutes.

On stage, please.

- Break a leg. - I will.

ME MYSELF AND MUM

Mum?

- Yes, what? - I have a little headache.

Me too.

I bumped into my very first sweetheart. Remember Anna?

Oh yeah... How is he?

Just fine, I think.

What now?

I love when you speak Spanish. You're pretty when you...

You're always pretty, but even prettier in Spanish.

Even prettier than Dad's secretaries.

I'd like to speak Spanish too.

Can I do a language study holiday in Spain?

Sure. Dad's taking the boys to the Grand Canyon.

I doubt you'd like that. So why not Spain?

- Really? - Yes.

They've gone sailing in Australia, horse-riding in Kenya...

Dad and the boys are athletic, not you. What do you expect?

You hate horses and get seasick.

Don't blame Dad. You're not athletic.

Don't worry... I'll find you something in Spain.

Something really nice.

Something really nice...

She went all out to find it.

I end up in the ugliest city in Spain.

La Linea de la Concepción.

Projects outside of Gibraltar.

Like Le Havre, but uglier.

Yes, it's possible.

Simple, but tasteful.

You're very lucky.

The unica familia in the city that doesn't take la droga.

Take what?

La droga.

Well, that's...

How do you say "That's great" in Spanish?

Good.

There I meet Paqui.

Not one word of French.

"Casa" and "blanca", that's all.

I brought her a Julio Iglesias album.

But in French.

In short, in 3 weeks is la feria.

Learn the Sevillana or you'll be bored stiff.

She'll teach you how to dance it.

8 hours a day for 3 weeks.

Even at the beach with her friends.

When the feria began,

I danced almost as well as Paqui.

Along with my entire Spanish family,

we went to hear the best Sevillana group

in the whole feria.

There I am, amid those Andalusian dresses,

dancing the Sevillana.

That girl seems to want to laugh.

Everyone around us, too.

It's rare to see

a Frenchman dance the Sevillana so well!

But why do they laugh so much at the third pass?

When I lift my knee,

they all went....

Anyway, they had me dancing all night,

so impressed were they.

Paqui, come dance with me!

He's being a pain and my legs are killing me.

Please!

Go ask Pilar.

- For me? - Yes!

Thanks.

Will you dance with me, please?

I'm sorry.

I dance the Sevillana with boys, not girls.

What do you mean?

You dance like a girl.

Don't move your hands like this.

Never. It's for girls.

Because...

I was copying Paqui. She said take an apple,

eat it, toss it...

It's only for girls.

In the third pass, when you lift your knee,

girls do it to lift their dresses.

You have no dress.

Now I understand why they were all laughing...

Tell me something, Pilar...

Do I really dance like a girl? Honestly...

do I really look like a girl?

Thank you, Pilar.

You can't imagine how happy Mum will be!

- Boys and Guillaume, lunch! - Coming.

Mum says it's lunchtime.

Shut up!

She said, "The boys and Guillaume, lunch!"

She said it's lunchtime.

Hurry up or you'll get a spanking.

You'll get the spanking!

Not me.

Mum and I love each other more than anyone.

Isn't our love the biggest?

Sit down, you three. I'm sick and tired of this!

My mother is reserved.

She doesn't gush.

My mother's amazing.

I don't think my mother has any flaws.

Except being in bad mood since...

...ever since I was born.

Is her bad mood because of me?

When she answers the phone,

she always sounds annoyed, like this.

Since she does nothing all day, by sounding annoyed,

people think she's busy.

As if she does something.

Pretty smart, isn't it?

Constantly oscillating

between extreme heat...

and bitter cold.

With no transition from one to the other.

For example, the other day

she was sitting down, saying "Finally no lunch guests!"

Sick and tired of having company.

No sooner did she say it, than the cook came

to announce that Lucien's parents,

my brother's classmate's...

They're in the kitchen.

What the hell for?

Monsieur asked them to lunch.

Shit.

Pain in the ass...

Show them in. Don't leave them there!

Never a moment's rest.

All the livelong day...

How are you doing?

Lovely to see you. It's been ages.

Please... have a seat...

Something to drink?

Something to drink?

Something to drink?

- Perrier. - Decaf.

Say it! 3 hours for decaf and Perrier!

Spare us. Get a decaf and a Perrier.

Tell everyone it's lunchtime.

It's so hot, my dears. Unbearable.

Say it!

Three hours for decaf and a Perrier.

Spare us...

I imitate her really well.

Her gestures, intonations. It's great.

I'm so good at it,

I can call the cook and she thinks it's my mother.

- Hello, Maria. -Yes, ma'am.

What are they eating today?

Liver, like every Thursday.

Make them sole instead.

The boys love it and Guillaume needs fish.

Yes, madam...

Thank you, Maria.

Even my grandmother falls for it.

I'll make more.

With all this tea

my bladder is filled to the rim.

We've discussed everything and nothing. Mostly nothing.

So how are you?

I have a little headache.

And how are the boys?

Fine.

And Guillaume?

I have a little headache.

You said so. Take an aspirin.

But how is Guillaume?

Besides my head, I'm fine.

What do you mean?

It's you, honey?

Yes it's me, Babou.

- Mum's not here? - Bathroom.

Bathroom...

Washing her hands.

Bathroom...

She's washing her hands.

Know why you mixed us up? We look alike.

And you know why?

Listen to me, sweetie.

Never complain, never lie to yourself.

Don't ever disavow.

Or make false claims.

And never justify yourself.

- Is that clear? - Very.

It's not what I meant.

If I'm like Mum...

Later, later...

Think over what I just told you, my angel.

Well, my dears... it was Niagara Falls.

Everyone falls for it.

The only one who never falls for it...

is Dad.

He doesn't want me to be a girl.

Not at all.

I feel bad for Mum.

He's why she buys me boys clothes.

So he won't get upset.

Getting dressed is tough,

but dressing as a girl with boys clothes...

So I improvise.

Hello, godfather...

Dressing as a Papuan now?

Just my father.

Perfect.

Thank you, Marc.

Our turn.

Shall we straighten it?

I try to look like her,

so he understands.

No... nothing doing.

What sport do you want to do?

You're flunking gym class.

I want you playing sports every Saturday.

So what sport do you want to do?

How about soccer?

Track, boxing, judo?

Greco-Roman wrestling?

Piano?

He wants me to do boy stuff.

The other night,

I was in my room playing Sissi and Archduchess Sophie.

Archduchess Sophie is gorgeous.

So strict.

A bit severe, harsh at times... but so elegant!

Such a sense of duty!

She suffered, too... Anyway.

I was in Sissi's anteroom.

In a private audience.

Child, I must speak to you.

Countess Esterhazy, leave us.

Come, let me examine you.

You look sickly.

You are pale and green.

Go outside, ride.

Mother, I must leave the court. Too much etiquette.

I need love and tenderness.

Enough self-pity!

An Empress needs no tenderness.

Such insolent language.

Mother!

Do not interrupt me.

The Austrian court's strict etiquette comes from Spain.

Charles V's Imperial style. There is no escaping it.

I am in a private audience, dammit!

Papili, take me to the forest.

What are you doing?

What's that?

What...

this?

Yes, that.

This is...

At night when I sleep my comforter falls off

so I thought if I tied it with my belt,

I wouldn't lose it.

Understand?

And the sweater on your head?

So my ears don't get cold. No, my head.

At night when I sleep.

Put on some pajamas. I'll turn up the heat.

Thanks!

Now it's boiling in here.

A real sauna.

He wasn't thrilled with Sissi.

So not thrilled, I was sent to boys boarding school.

The Institute of Christian Brothers.

Happy birthday Guillaume, biggest fag.

Hurry up!

Come on!

Ready...

Lights out!

That noise in the dorm.

And I could see my neighbor. Thomas or Stephan.

The way he went about it was odd.

Pity the poor girl.

Just the idea of being the mattress!

As I was told later, close your eyes and think of England.

It felt more like a Turkish prison than a cricket field.

One night I had tachycardia

and they all gave me a heart massage.

119 boys on me.

I thought I'd die.

So faggot, sick again?

You fake it, don't you? Fag!

The monitor!

Hurry up!

There's no one.

Really?

My one friend,

son of a farmer from Picardy. Nicolas.

See how they freaked out?

Like little rats, man!

Okay, good night.

It's ice cold in here.

Two years of hazing never killed anyone.

Dad says you're a crybaby.

Speaking of Dad... here.

For him.

Not just insults? He's in a lousy mood.

He read my letter.

Two rats eating each other.

Most people see a butterfly.

Put down butterfly then.

I never got the test results.

Mum... what did the psychiatrists say?

You're a narcissist and a drama queen. What else?

By the way,

forget Picardy this weekend.

New school.

A new boarding school?

- It's midyear. - It's decided.

If it's decided...

- But Nicolas... - Stop.

I have no desire to go to a boarding school

in the boondocks of England...

In England?

My new school...

It's in England?

In England.

England...

England...

I discovered England.

Where you can walk with a pumpkin on your head...

...or turkeys on a leash, with no remarks

besides...

Where every discomfort gets an encouraging...

Yes, the English look unhealthy

but it's such a pleasure.

Where instead of coffee you're always offered...

It was wonderful.

Goodbye Turkish prison, hello cricket field.

Besides cricket, it was great.

And that's where I met Jeremy.

Besides cricket and rowing, it was great.

Besides cricket, rowing and rugby, it was great.

What's up, friend?

What will horse-riding be like?

Is it pretty here?

Very pretty.

No, that's horrific.

Come on!

Melitta, godammit!

They drive me crazy.

Such constant pains!

Back to the kitchen!

Enough! Dirt everywhere!

Foie-gras, toast, white wine, whatever they want.

Take your pill?

What pill?

You don't have 100.

Sorry but what pill do you mean?

Your pill...

It's you?

Yes, it's me.

Night, Dad.

That face, when he saw it was me, not Mum.

I saw in his eyes he understood I was a girl.

Finally, Dad understands!

Scram, old chap. You're on my pillow.

I don't need your farts.

Go to sleep. Enough!

Okay then, goodnight.

Right. Goodnight.

The door.

Thank you.

Why isn't my mother happy?

At last I'm a girl, like her...

How silly of me!

I look too much like her.

Of course, I should imitate women other than her.

The women I like will inspire me.

I adore my grandmother.

Bubbles for globules, honey!

The only problem is that she gets her words wrong.

So?

Singing along, my bimbette?

I'm fine. And you, Babou?

The sun down south is thunderous.

Here it's raining turds.

It's blinking, my pussy.

Glad to hear it.

I almost shot a communist in a tank, one pine.

But I wiped it off.

A communist in a tank?

My tenor...

never paint yourself, never feel yourself.

Don't sniff or whisper.

And never petrify yourself.

Expensive?

Very expensive, Babou.

Why not use your feet?

My angel...

the clown brushes his teeth at the circus.

Okay?

- Love you, bimbette. - Me too, Papou.

I mean Babou.

I'm getting sick and tired of Radio Londres.

Maria, the table please.

If I mix that with my mother, what do I get?

Fuck a duck, Maria, it was divine.

It doesn't work.

There are my aunts!

My aunts are great. So feminine...

One lives in LA. She always says...

Men are easy.

At first, give them a lot.

And I mean a lot.

Once they get hooked,

you stop giving.

Grab them by the balls.

And squeeze.

Her big thing is Gay Pride.

The guys there are all so charming.

Each of them has an artistic side.

Either they sell antiques or flowers.

What do you want to do later?

I don't know...

Journalist.

Not antique salesman?

And the other one...

Mi amor...

You looked stunning last night.

I had no idea !

Because usually, sorry...

you're a real shambles.

A fatal wreck.

For Morocco along with your mum and brothers,

I invited the wallflower and that hick of hers.

Come make us laugh or it will be terribly gloomy.

When you're funny, I'm all yours.

Admit it was irresistible.

Why limit myself to my family?

There are lots of women.

They all have something special.

All of them.

I started looking at them...

examining every gesture,

every attitude,

every glance...

every little tick.

How Martine crosses her legs,

How Isabel touches her hair.

How Christine looks away.

How Victoire fiddles with her rings.

Valerie's breathy "yes".

Do that again.

What?

That "yes".

You went "yes"...

breathing in...

It was beautiful.

It's amazing.

I just understood something wild.

In fact, the thing that sets women apart the most...

is their breath.

It's softer.

More varied.

Less linear, less uniform. That's it.

Her breath in is a state of flux,

depending if she is moved, or concentrated,

or seductive

or charmed.

And so...

I learned them all.

Every breath.

All those respirations

that made my heart beat as one

with women.

It's guy stuff, so butt out!

Okay, your brother tried to drown you,

but don't overreact.

Listen... your aunt wants to eat.

Go unpack and change. You can't stay in uniform!

So there's something else.

Stop crying or I'll cry.

Then I'll stop.

In fact...

Mum, it's that...

I love Jeremy but he doesn't love me.

I think he's in love with that dumb Liza.

All she does is chew on her hair.

It's awful. She's such a...

You know what I mean?

I think I got it.

What do you think I should do?

Lots of them live happy lives.

What do you mean, lots of them?

Yes, I mean...

Lots of them.

Lots of what?

What do you mean "what"?

Of...

Of...

You know what I mean, dammit!

I don't.

Boys who like boys. Homos, fags!

Are you that dumb?

Go get changed. Dinnertime.

We can eat in 15 minutes.

What is she talking about?

But I'm not a homo...

because I'm your daughter

who is attracted by a boy.

What could be straighter?

A girl attracted by a boy...

It's not "lots of them".

I'll show you "lots of them"...

I can't believe it.

So...

if I'm not really...

a girl...

it means that...

it means...

I have to do my military service.

Smallest line you can read.

Behind the line... It's important.

Nothing at all?

Now that I have to be a boy again,

how do I get out of missionary, no... military service?

So you mention a suicide attempt...

Why?

Because.

Because what?

Because he tried...

to drown me.

Who is he?

The Other.

I see.

Why did he...

try to drown you?

Because...

he found out that I...

that I'd had...

a relationship...

with a...

A...?

A what?

A what?

A what?

A what?

A what?

Spit it out.

A black guy.

And...

...what do you think of blacks? Of the Army?

I'm afraid.

Why?

Because I...

I spent...

five years...

in boarding school, only with...

boys, and...

I know what it is.

I see.

He imagined such filthy stuff,

he wrote a four-page report.

Yeah, right!

Hello, young man.

Have a seat.

Give me that.

Let's have a look.

A little letter from his nice doctor.

Obviously... yeah right...

My poor boy...

what does the report say?

It says...

You don't say...

Oh shit.

Excuse me.

Sonny...

Listen, young man...

How many times a week do you see a shrink?

- Twice. - At least.

Just kidding.

Young man, jokes aside,

are you on meds?

At least you're not alone!

Just kidding.

Young man, you're unable to be in the Army.

I'm sorry but...

it's not possible.

Not at all.

At all at all...

Not this time.

I'm just kidding.

Just kidding.

If you want some advice,

stay in analysis.

And I'm not kidding.

I took his advice,

but this one told me his patients antics.

When I mentioned masturbation, ashamed,

he did this...

All of this depressed me.

When I get depressed,

I found something...

I travel.

So to lessen the stress

and the waistline,

I decided on a Bavarian spa.

Why Bavaria, you ask?

I've always wanted to visit Ludwig's castles.

Because he's Sissi's cousin.

We are what we are.

Also because...

if I'm becoming a homosexual,

better to shoot for the top.

Doctor...

Anyway.... I'm going to love it.

They seem nice.

Mr. Gallienne? I am Raymond.

A sports massage, ja?

That really hurts.

Not the other one.

Both, of course.

It's incredibly painful!

Calm down!

I leave in smithereens,

my back in major pain,

praying my next appointment will be less traumatic.

The gods seem to have heard me.

Follow me?

In here.

Come in.

Undress.

Seriously...

it's an obsession here.

Lie on your side, facing...

the bathtub.

I obey.

It hurts a little here.

My papa... he worked there.

Really? Not to be indiscreet, what did "vater" do?

There is indiscretion.

Excuse me.

I'm sorry, Ingeborg.

This will not hurt.

Why on earth would it?

What the fuck?

Must relax anus.

Don't overdo it. It's an enema.

People do them every day. It's healthy.

Ready?

Given my position, it's hard to be any readier.

You French are so funny!

Here we go...

No more hold it! I'm dying, Ingeborg!

Vacuum.

Oh my God.

You didn't diet before.

What diet?

For colotherapy, you must diet before.

You didn't have the liquid?

We have to start over.

Start over?

Bitch.

Deflowered by Ingeborg.

That wasn't planned on.

Tell me about the tube.

The tube.

I can't.

Keeping my legs spread wide

and walking like I had bulls balls...

It's hard to be virile, right?

Freaks me out, like sports.

Still, I signed up for swimming classes.

- You okay? - Enough.

Go relax a little.

Thanks, Bernard...

I've had enough.

Guillaume?

What are you up to?

I'm swimming.

You swim?

I swim like everyone.

You working out too?

You should. It's good for swimming.

I heard myself say something so dumb.

I can't. I have back trouble.

Good God!

I have no back trouble, just no balls

to tell that asshole

that I'd rather eat shit and die than work out!

I'm sorry.

It's not a problem.

You really dislike yourself.

Cry, you'll pee less.

I need to lie down.

We can't have a little laugh?

Such narcissism. Me, me, me.

I need it. I lack self-esteem.

You lack reserve.

Who are you talking to?

No one.

You know, cariño,

it's simple. Just fall in love.

If it's a boy, you're gay, a girl, straight.

When I was young,

I was always told, in great detail,

if I touched a boy before marriage, I'd go to hell.

So I bagged every girl at school

and never became a lesbian.

As long as you don't try,

you can't know.

Fresh off the boat?

That's for sure.

Where from?

Near Casablanca, but I lost the...

Cool, we're cousins.

Want to come over?

I'm Karim.

Sissi... Just kidding.

Got a car?

Follow me. I'm close to Pantin.

- Where? - Near Pantin.

- See you there? - Out front.

It's hard to see.

Where is Pantin?

Working-class suburb.

Forget about it.

The lights broke. Give me your hand.

- Cold hand. - I'm a bit chilly.

I'll make some coffee.

Good evening.

Hey.

Nordine.

I'm Tony.

Who's he?

The bitch.

Karim, what are we doing?

You suck then we fuck you.

Sorry, I'm double parked.

I have to go. Sorry to...

Don't panic.

It's just a gangbang. Relax, man.

What's her little name?

My name is Guillaume.

What?

You're not Arab?

Not from Casablanca?

A misunderstanding. I was on holiday near Casablanca.

So you're a liar.

Not at all.

- A big liar. - Drop it, Karim.

No, I swear. I'm not a liar.

Get lost!

We're into Arabs, not liars!

For a first try, it was hard to get worse.

And yet the second try...

You prefer to shower first?

Why shower?

It's...

more hygienic.

If it's more hygienic...

I have no desire to shower.

I'm clean, dammit.

I'll show you hygiene.

It does a world of good.

Perfect.

My turn.

He went to shower next.

It lasted... forever!

Child, I must speak to you.

When he came back,

he was stark naked. And I saw...

a horse.

I tried to think of England. I couldn't.

I was so scared to be that horse's mattress,

I heard my mother saying : Obviously...

Horses scare you.

Of course it can't work.

It's true.

I realize I've always done everything out of fear.

Fear of disappointing Mum.

Mum?

And the only way to overcome the fear

was to tame the object I feared.

And the object I fear above all others

is the horse.

What... horse?

I signed up at a riding school outside Paris.

I went there every morning at daybreak.

Me in the box, with the horse.

So scary.

You can do it.

But on one condition.

You're no longer 8 and a half.

Okay?

Go ahead.

Do exactly as I say.

Tie the reins.

- What? - Tie the reins.

Like this?

Now let go of them.

Like this?

No more stirrups.

Like this?

Now close your eyes.

And trust the animal.

Very good.

Soon after, I called my friend Clemence:

What's doing?

Dinner with the girls.

I'm coming!

No, you don't even know them.

I'll wear a skirt and heels, if necessary!

Don't hog the conversation.

Why on earth would you say that?

I go, fortunately not in a skirt and heels,

and there...

I see the most beautiful woman in the world.

The only woman who could be so pretty,

so cute

and so beautiful

at the same time.

- Guillaume. - Amandine.

As I watch her, tons of words whirl through my head.

He's very effeminate.

Hey, faggot!

She's wearing panties!

...so gay, you've become lesbian.

No reserve... Scram!

Queer...

You should try.

It's very simple...

Boys and Guillaume, dinner!

Amid all that, I hear Clemence:

Girls and Guillaume, dinner!

- What? - Girls and Guillaume, dinner.

I love the idea!

"Girls and Guillaume, dinner!"

Girls and Guillaume.

Never thought I'd hear that.

Girls... and Guillaume.

I looked at Amandine.

I smiled at her.

And I wasn't afraid.

So not afraid, I mentioned my good thighs.

I have good thighs.

A few months later

I saw my mother and I said...

Mum, I have two things to tell you.

The first is that...

I've decided to write a play.

About a boy who learns to accept his heterosexuality

in a family that decided he was homosexual.

Help me clear the table...

There's something I don't get.

This guy in the story...

is 100% straight?

If I understand correctly,

his whole family

is persuaded he's 100% gay.

Right?

But in fact, he's 100% straight.

Right?

Where's the proof?

Of what?

That he's 100% straight?

How can the public know he's 100% straight?

His whole family is sure he's 100% gay...

Unless his whole family is a bunch of idiots!

Where is the proof...

that he's 100% straight?

First of all,

it's not a question of percentage, but...

you're right to ask, Mum.

The proof, as you call it,

is that he fell in love with a woman.

Repentant fag. But concretely?

I look at my mother

and I understand everything.

I understand that she's the one who's afraid.

Afraid that I love a woman other than her.

It seems so completely wild!

A fear like that.

I want to say I always loved her.

It's not because

I love Amandine

that I'll stop loving her.

I want to tell her that in fact...

It's thanks to her, I adore women.

Thanks to her, I learned to watch them

and to listen, especially.

I want to tell her that...

to tell her...

that it's her reserve... that gave me words.

Her elegance

gave me good bearing.

Her humor, the desire to laugh and make others laugh.

And her confidence

that gave me courage.

I want to tell her...

I want to tell her

it's thanks to her

that I am here.

I want...

but I can't.

I can't because if I do, I'll cry...

and boys don't cry.

No, and...

I know her.

If I say all that...

it'll make her uncomfortable.

She's very reserved, my mother.

Even if she sometimes calls me "baby-doll",

she knows that I am a boy.

That's how it is.

Even if we pretended the opposite,

she and I.

It made our lives easier.

Hers, to have a daughter.

And mine...

to set myself apart from my brothers.

To distinguish myself.

But all that's over now.

It's over...

because I love Amandine.

And Amandine loves me.

I'll say so.

Concretely, it's good you asked because...

because concretely, as you say,

the second thing is that Amandine and I are getting married.

With who?

Break a leg.

Love, Mum.

Subtitling : Eclair Group