Original subtitles

A genius like Hugo's may perhaps not only be consumed and ravaged,

but dispossessed by talent,

by parasitic talent,

by the talent enveloping him.

It's impossible, undeniable.

I pity whoever does not instantly feel

that on that day something happened in Hugo's head,

in Hugo's mortal head,

something, something...

that exceeds even the creation of a truly great poem.

That he felt, on that day,

on that unique day...

The two duties, to wach and to hope

The two duties, to watch and to hope

"The two duties,

"to watch and to hope."

VICTOR LIKE EVERYONE

- Good morning, Madam. - Good morning.

- Young lady. - Good morning.

A pain au chocolat, please.

That's 1 euro 50.

Thank you.

This is my niece Éponine. I told you about her.

Oh, yes.

- I have your tickets. - Thank you.

A lovely name, Éponine.

Yeah, it's a girl in Les Misérables.

- Do you like it? - I haven't read it.

Youngsters don't read anymore. Her parents are fans of the great Victor.

Like you.

- Where are you from? - Gex, in the Ain department.

I like the Ain.

It's department number one.

They're really good seats. Don't talk too much!

Don't cough.

Oh, the newspaper.

Someone left it for you.

She asked if you still come here. I said yes, every morning.

Maybe I shouldn't have.

She said to check the obituaries.

The obituaries?

Who was she?

A youngster. Your daughter, maybe?

My daughter?

Was she a brunette?

What sort of shoes?

Red Kickers?

She was too old to be wearing Kickers.

If you have a photo, I can tell you.

A photo? No, I don't have one.

Not on your phone?

No, I don't have a photo.

Have a nice day.

Where are you?

And you? Not at the theater?

Last-minute stuff?

Yes, I'm on my way. What time is it there?

Seven hours earlier. I'm on the Strip.

In my palace on wheels, look.

Biscarrosse invited us to Las Vegas.

And I'm in a limo. Crazy, huh?

Be careful, my love.

Don't worry, these people aren't real.

Silly!

Look what I've just found out.

I can't make it out. What does it say?

It says: "Lisbeth Rockwell,

"her daughter,

"Madeleine Martinot, her mother, and Anne Rockwell, her sister,

"are grieved to announce the death

"of Mrs. Chanssou Rockwell."

I think Lisbeth left it at the baker's this morning.

I suppose.

That's sad.

How do you feel?

It was a long time ago, but still.

Have you called Lisbeth?

You really have to.

How? I don't know her number.

I haven't known it for years.

Your daughter's number? I don't believe you.

Look, it was also up to her to try to...

to get in touch. After all this time.

Isn't that what she's done?

Yes.

Merde, my love!

For your negotiations.

Yeah, thanks.

Try to get in touch.

Didn't her mother have that theater, the Blue Parrot?

No, not the Blue Parrot, the White Toucan.

You know why merde means "good luck"?

A hit play meant lots of carriages at the theater,

so more horse dung.

So we wish each other "shit."

- But I too... - It's one theory.

I wish you merde too for your premiere. Kiss-kiss!

Yes, my love, a big kiss from me too.

Taxi!

Is there anyone here?

What's wrong with him?

What are you doing?

- I'm sorry. - It's okay,

you can open your eyes.

- Are you sure? - Yes.

- Sure? - I said yes.

I'm so embarrassed, I'm sorry.

It wasn't locked, so I came in.

I'm Pia. We're rehearsing.

Pleased to meet you. I'm Robert.

I know who you are.

I didn't see anything. I mean I didn't look.

You won't MeToo me?

Yes, I will!

If not for that, for other things.

You're panicking. I'm joking.

I'm really embarrassed.

The toucan was in trouble.

In my day he was at the theater entrance.

My first show was here.

Oh, yeah?

He watched over us. Now no one does that.

He's our lucky charm. We touch his beak.

Go on, touch his beak.

Happy to. It's my premiere tonight.

I suppose you've heard...

about Chanssou.

She was suffering, so it's better.

No, you'll rub away the luck.

Girls,

meet Zucchini,

Robert Zucchini.

- Georgia, Suzanne... - Pleased to meet you.

And me, Pia.

I remembered Pia.

A good name, nice and short.

- Pia what? - Pia Pépin.

Wow! That's wonderful.

I tried knocking on the door upstairs,

where Lisbeth used to live.

- Is she no longer there? - No.

Not for a long while now.

Chanssou moved to the suburbs, to Les Lilas.

She kept the theater, but...

We're all Lisbeth's buddies.

We knew about you.

You knew?

- That you're a family friend. - A family friend? Right.

A family friend.

That's nice.

- It's cool. - Very.

But Robert Zucchini is a pseudonym, right?

What's your real name?

Ange Luciani.

Yeah, I get that! Ange...

is tricky.

We agree?

Do you know what Hugo called war?

War?

No.

Sorry, Robert, can you step back a meter?

To the table.

- Like this? - Yes.

He personified war as a "blind worker"

or a "foolish Penelope."

A foolish Penelope.

Penelope, Odysseus's wife,

who spent her time...

- Weaving. - Exactly.

Weaving and then unweaving.

Undoing at night what she'd done during the day.

So the stupidity of war.

Blind worker

Foolish Penelope

What use are you, giant?

What use are you, smoke?

If your collapses rebuild evil...

- Can you hear me, Régis? - Yes, I can.

You know that Louis-Napoléon...

You know who that was?

Yes, a Bonaparte. Can you sit in the chair?

I didn't know exactly who Louis-Napoléon was,

but I knew he was Napoléon III.

- So I can sit here? - Yes, stay there.

Where are you? I feel I'm talking to no one.

I can hear you.

When he became president...

This is warming up my voice for later.

Which is good.

Two days later he invited Hugo to the Élysée Palace.

Hugo wrote in Things Seen, which I think is his masterpiece:

"Louis Bonaparte held his first dinner yesterday, Saturday the 23rd,

"two days..." - as I said -

"...after his proclamation."

And Hugo describes this dinner

as an incredibly vulgar event.

He describes the women either side of Napoléon III,

saying that Napoléon III

prefers the one on the right to the one on the left!

Come back to the table, please.

To the table. Right.

But, basically,

where can I stand, for the light?

On the rug is fine,

but for now can I have you just in front of the table?

That's perfect, thanks.

When he became president of France...

There are two children in here.

Régis!

There are two children in the theater.

Sorry, trouble with a spotlight.

My kids wanted to see where I work. I'm coming.

Good. Your dad's coming down.

- Are you okay? - Yes.

- Do you do Victor Hugo at school? - A bit.

Children, you whose lives are made of ignorance

Children, you whose joy is made of hope...

That's Hugo.

- Hi, kids. - Hi, Dad.

You didn't tell me you had children.

No, but I do.

Great. Are you glad you do?

Yes.

Aren't you?

Well, they're great kids.

So, this dinner...

Hi, this is Lisbeth Rockwell. Leave a message.

Hello, Lisbeth.

It's Robert.

The family friend.

Apparently that's how you describe me to your friends.

I thought it was quite funny.

At the Toucan they gave me your number.

I'm sorry but I wasn't able to...

go to the cemetery.

I have a lot to do at the theater.

I've invited all your friends

from the White Toucan.

And of course I left a place for you.

And I wanted to tell you

something by Victor Hugo.

"Memory...

"is the invisible presence."

"Memory is the invisible presence."

All my love.

Here it is.

- Lots of people! - Yes.

There's a line, but it's clean. You can't go while it's on.

I'm good.

But I'm really overdressed.

No one's looking at you.

And it's itchy.

Germain!

Germain? What sort of name is that?

You can talk!

Yes, but I'm a literary heroine.

Will I get a mention in the play?

It's not a play.

- He's not playing Victor Hugo? - No, he's not.

Nor Jean Valjean, nor anyone.

Is Jean Valjean the nice bad guy?

- Do you want to see him after? - Who?

Zucchini. At the stage door.

We see him at the baker's every day, don't we?

I'll say I loved it, even if I don't.

My respects, Mr. Hugo.

Come in.

- Am I bothering you? - No, not at all.

- Are you made-up already? - Yes. Did Estelle overdo it?

No, it's good.

Thanks for the chocolates.

I've brought you this.

For you and him.

- What is it? - A salt lamp.

A salt lamp?

It bathes you in a soothing light.

Lots of positive waves.

But your cat mustn't lick it, it's poisonous.

If you have a cat, that is. Do you?

No, I...

Thank you, Cosima.

Well, merde!

Get them to call me when it's time.

This preface,

written by Hugo, begins thus:

"If an author had any right to influence

"the state of mind

"of the readers opening his book,

"the author of The Contemplations would limit himself to saying

"that this book should be read

"as one would read the book of a dead man.

"Twenty-five years are in these two volumes.

"The author allowed

"this book to form itself inside him.

"Those who linger over it will find their own image

"in these deep, sad waters

"which have slowly accumulated here

"in the bottom of a soul.

"Joy, that fleeting flower of youth,

"appears page after page in the first tome, which is hope,

"and disappears in the second, which is grieving."

"What grieving?

"The true,

"the unique,

"that of death.

"The loss of dear ones."

Léopoldine, his favorite daughter,

the love of his life...

Léopoldine drowned

as the result of a boating accident on the River Seine,

with her young husband, who tried to save her,

and decided to die with her.

It happened in Villequier,

on September 4th 1843.

Their boat overturned.

She had just turned nineteen.

At the same time,

Victor Hugo and Juliette Drouet were making their annual summer trip.

Every year he would take her away for an entire month,

devoted completely to her.

They returned from Spain

on September 9th, knowing nothing about the accident.

They were waiting in Rochefort for the stagecoach

which would take them to La Rochelle.

And we are lucky enough to have Juliette Drouet's diary,

who recorded, second by second,

each breath of Victor Hugo

during the week after they heard the news.

"The waiter brings a bottle of beer and withdraws.

"Under the table there are several newspapers.

"Victor Hugo picks one at random.

"I pick up Le Charivari.

"I barely had time to read the headline

"before my poor beloved suddenly leant into me,

"and said in a strangled voice,

"as he showed me the paper in his hand,

"these four words...

"These four words he said:

"'This is so horrible.'

"Never, I tell you,

"never will I forget

"the indescribable look of despair

"on his noble face.

"He was devastated.

"His poor lips were white,

"his beautiful eyes looked without seeing,

"his face and hair were soaked with tears."

And thereafter he didn't speak.

He withdrew into himself.

It wasn't until over ten years later, over ten years,

in Guernsey,

that he wrote about that day,

the worst day in Victor Hugo's life,

in this masterpiece,

this sublime poem:

She was in the habit in her childhood

Of coming into my room every morning

I waited for her like a hoped-for ray of light

She'd enter and say: "Good morning, dear Papa"

She'd pick up my quill...

He stumbled, did you notice?

- He what? - Stumbled.

It was intentional.

...like a passing bird

I'd return, my head less heavy...

Mr. Zucchini?

Robert?

I'm coming in.

Are you okay?

Yes, yes. This does one a world of good.

It's incredible.

- Can I turn the light on? - No need.

Yet it stresses me out to feel better like this. I don't like it.

Anyway, you can go. Everyone's left.

Good.

A young woman was asking for you.

Brunette, blonde, how old?

I didn't pay much attention.

- She said she'd ask at the baker's. - Ask what?

If everything in the show was intentional.

That was her word: "intentional."

Thank you, Cosima.

See you tomorrow.

Don't get too close!

You never know.

Yes.

Yeah, I'll wait for him to leave.

I'll do that.

Hello, Mr. Robert. How are you?

- The car? - No, not the car.

I'm dining with friends, but I don't see them.

Is that them? They were asking after you.

Not them! Help me out.

Pretend we're really close friends.

- Talk normally. - Okay, Robert?

- Did you like the show? - Loved it!

Are they coming over?

No, they're not.

I didn't lay it on too thick at times?

No, on the contrary.

Are they leaving?

One is coming over.

Tap me on the shoulder.

Robert, this is great!

- So you liked it? - Absolutely.

Good, good. How are things with Cosima?

Cosima? It's coming along slowly.

That's good.

Have you seen the show or not?

Yes, of course.

Really? And you really liked it?

- Loved it! - That's nice.

Well, have a nice evening.

Here they are!

- Have a nice evening. - See you tomorrow.

Tell me, then.

I can't see in the dark, but it looks clean.

Very clean. She seems to do a good job.

I meant the show, not Mogdi.

What was the reaction?

Mogdi?

Who's Mogdi, my love?

The new cleaner. You said it's clean.

Yes.

No, it was good. But I screwed up during The Contemplations.

I went blank, and that never happens to me.

She was in the habit in her childhood Of coming into my room every morning...

Then nothing!

I know it perfectly.

I waited for her like a hoped-for ray of light...

That's next, right?

That's it. Well done, my love.

The Rose-Velin couple came.

They were polite, nothing more.

He has no sense of humor.

And she has a heart of stone.

Hold on! I'll be away for a while.

I don't know if I can hold on. I have no appetite,

no thirst, while you're away.

My decline is not far off.

What a joke!

I bet you're seeing a supporting actress.

Turn the light on, I can't see you.

I can see you better now.

- Did you call Lisbeth? - Yes.

I left her a message, inviting her to the show.

Did she come? Can you hear me?

- No, she didn't. - I can't hear you.

She didn't come.

You've frozen.

Annabelle?

It's not complicated!

Booz fell asleep, exhausted...

He's exhausted and falls asleep.

No need to be a philosopher!

Booz fell asleep, exhausted

Having worked all day in his space

He made his bed in his usual place...

It's not complicated.

Booz slept among his sheaves of wheat

This old man owned fields of wheat and barley...

A landowner!

This old man owned fields of wheat and barley

But, although rich, he was fair-minded...

He was like Hugo.

No mud stained his mill-wheel

No hellfire burned in his smithy

His beard...

You all have to see this.

If not, I'll have failed.

His beard was as silver as an April stream

His sheaves were neither stingy nor hateful

Seeing poor gleaning women passing by...

Women in the fields.

"Drop some ears of corn on purpose," he'd say

He walked upright, far from crooked paths

Dressed in guileless probity and white linen...

Far from crooked paths... You hear that?

If you have a friend who's taking drugs or dealing,

tell him: "You're on a crooked path!"

Far from crooked paths

Dressed in guileless probity and white linen...

He's a fine fellow.

Always on the side of the poor

Free-flowing, his sacks of grain seemed public fountains

A good master

Loyal and generous, although not wasteful

Women...

This is typical Hugo. You'll understand why.

Women eyed up Booz more than young men

For young men are handsome...

But old men are great!

Not my words, Victor Hugo's.

Oh, yes!

The dark was nuptial,

august

and solemn

Angels flew there in the dark

For one could catch a glimpse, now and then

Of something blue

which may have been a wing

The sound of Booz's breathing

Mingled with that of the stream...

And here, the embodiment of Hugo's genius!

For this was in the month when nature is a dream...

With lilies blooming on the hilltops

Ruth dreamt

while Booz slept...

There's an extraordinary switch.

The grass was black, the cowbells tinkled faintly

An immense goodness dropped from the firmament

It was the quiet hour when lions drink...

A totally ridiculous but genius line

in the middle of all that inventiveness.

"The hour when lions drink."

There I sensed the audience, as always,

captivated by his genius.

All was peaceful in Ur and Jerimadeth

The stars enameled the... Yes?

Some books. They were crazy about it.

Very attentive.

They were wonderful.

The stars...

The stars enameled the deep, dark sky

The fine crescent in the dark

Shone in the west

and Ruth wondered

What god...

To me that's the phrase that makes even the atheist mystical.

What god, what harvester of the eternal summer

Had so negligently dropped his sickle in that field of stars...

It's a long poem.

I try to get to the end.

Some nights I get there.

It depends on the audience's mood. Mine too.

I don't like truncating that masterpiece,

because I can't leave Ruth and Booz just hanging there.

See you tomorrow.

Ruth dreamt while Booz slept The grass was black...

You realize? Black grass!

Nobody realizes. Black grass!

I've already said it so many times,

and I'll say it again for you.

The grass was black...

Mabrouk, let's go.

I'm exhausted.

Hello!

Were you there?

You came to see it again?

No, but we knew that we'd find you here.

And as we didn't catch you after the premiere...

You didn't like it?

Yes, we did.

We just wanted to thank you.

You're polite, that's nice.

No, let's tell him.

You hated it?

- No! - No, we didn't hate it.

It's just that it's quite different from us...

No, not from us, from our show.

What do you mean?

We're working on Hugo too.

- On Hugo? - Yes.

Well, we're working more on the women around Hugo.

Their importance, their presence...

Because without them, well...

Because they were his great inspiration, essentially.

You could call him the immense, the great lover.

You could also call him the great horn dog, I think.

But...

- That's a bit reductive. - I agree with Pia.

You can't reduce Hugo to that.

I'm not.

He had a sexual vitality,

an unprecedented vitality.

- His sexuality was enormous. - Yes.

- We agree about that. - Okay, we agree.

Yes, he had a huge vitality.

But just because he had that doesn't make him a horn dog.

It's a synonym.

But he fell sincerely in love.

With Juliette, Léonie Biard,

and all the women he met.

He loved them with his heart, his body, his mind...

But they were the great lovers.

He used love

in order to write.

No, in order to screw.

- I mean... - This is weird.

No, it's true, he was...

You're separating women and Hugo,

you're separating the fusion of Hugo loving women.

Them inspiring him is one thing,

but that doesn't make them victims.

No, we didn't say we're separating them, we're just...

Come and see our show.

Yes, I'd love to.

You'll see that's not what we're doing.

I'll be happy to.

We're not opposing them, we're not separating them.

- We're making it visible. - Making it visible?

That's wonderful.

Can we drop you off?

- At the White Toucan? - We'll ask Mabrouk.

Mabrouk,

we'll drop off these ladies, friends of Lisbeth.

- I'll go in front because I get sick. - Sick?

It's unbelievable, reducing Hugo...

We're not!

- We're not! - Yes, you are!

I was just reciting Booz Asleep on stage,

then a group of nice young ladies tell me he was a horn dog.

Watch your head.

Enough of that!

You're being really aggressive.

Hugo is the genie of love.

Did you tell Lisbeth her father had been there?

I can't get her on the phone.

Her father?

Yes, because as well as being...

a family friend, I'm also her father.

Or vice versa.

You're unbelievable.

No, we just said that Zucchini had been asking after her.

Why didn't she tell us she's your daughter?

We've know each other since eighth grade.

It's my wife.

What'll she think if I answer?

Nothing, and she'll be right.

You can tell her you'll be working with us.

Working with you? What are you scheming?

- Yes. - I don't work for the competition.

Ah, my love in America!

Everything okay?

- I'm in the car. - Alone?

- No, I'm not alone. - Really?

- I'm with the young ladies. - Young ladies?

Well, with Lisbeth's friends.

They're doing a show about Hugo...

About Hugo's women.

Victor Hugo's women.

Allow me to introduce Georgia, who plays...?

Adèle Hugo. I play Adèle Hugo.

Hello.

Née Foucher, you know?

Yes, we have done a bit of research.

Yes.

Next I'll introduce...

Hello! Juliette Drouet, his official mistress.

You look like her.

- And then... - Léonie, hello.

The young one, the rebel.

My favorite.

There, you see,

this evening's ambiance.

They're against Hugo, claiming he was phallocratic...

No, we're not against Hugo!

I think the real difference is that, in our show,

we're proceeding from the point of view of these female figures.

You always proceed from Hugo's point of view.

How they gravitate around him.

Whereas, with us,

it's about how Hugo gravitates around them.

So already, from that standpoint, we're opposed.

Yes, but I'm trying to be at the service of Hugo's writing.

When there's something written by Juliette Drouet,

then in my show I'm at the service of her writing.

Who are you sending a selfie to at this hour?

It's for my IG.

Instagram.

I do know what that is. I have one too.

You know how it all started?

It was when he got back from that town

where he found out that his daughter had died.

I'm talking about Rochefort.

When he got back from Rochefort, he was destroyed.

He'd read in a newspaper that his daughter had drowned.

He couldn't bear to be with Juliette Drouet.

He associated being with her with the horror of losing his daughter.

He slumped into depression.

Someone told him he should get out, have dinner.

After a few months, he did.

And there, at a dinner, he met Léonie Biard.

The mess he got into with women...

was it his responsibility?

In any case, his wasn't a normal life.

There were dramatic events, the revolution, the coup d'état...

He was sentenced to death and had to escape to Belgium with Juliette.

Adèle joined him later.

It's all extraordinary.

Léonie Biard doesn't give up on him.

She writes that she'll come to him in Brussels.

And then Hugo does something that's completely puzzling.

Which makes what you're saying interesting.

You could put it in your show.

He asks his wife,

Adèle...

he asks Adèle

to tell Léonie that she shouldn't come right away.

He asks his wife,

his wife Adèle,

to discourage

Léonie Biard...

That's so cowardly.

Worse than that.

Well, you could interpret it a thousand ways.

Well, yes.

Maybe female desire makes him panic.

That happens to us all the time.

- Men are afraid of your libido? - All the time!

That's wonderful, at last!

I've been waiting for years

for someone to say that women understand that men are afraid.

I left my former partner.

- Partner? - Yes.

- Well, former guy. - Former guy?

- My former... - Dude.

My former dude.

- You cheated on him? - I fell in love with someone else.

But we'd never made love.

And I left my partner

to live this new adventure,

but the new one got scared,

so I ended up alone.

I don't think it's about the fear of women's libido. It's...

- Yes, it's a huge thing. - No.

It's just that it's more fun for them to conquer a woman.

Whereas a woman who's ready to make love

and isn't ashamed of that

is making herself his equal.

So, more than him being afraid,

it's that he no longer has the upper hand over a woman,

who's completely his own, all for him...

It's the fear of a woman

who has full possession of herself.

The two things are linked.

Yes, they're linked, but...

Let's say it. It's what Freud called "fear of the dark continent."

Men are afraid to venture there.

- They can do stuff together, then. - Yes.

I think that's a big thing...

You have lots of animosity directed at men.

Just because I speak out doesn't mean I have animosity.

I have a guy waiting for me now.

- A date at 5 a.m.? - Yeah.

Wow, you're keen!

At the hour the countryside turns white...

Well, it's for breakfast.

And his name is Hugo.

It's a sign!

Maybe.

I'm going too.

Goodbye.

- Want me to wait for you? - Yeah.

- Goodbye, Robert. - Goodbye.

- Pia Pépin, stay. - No.

No, it's five in the morning. I'm done AF.

Will you come and see our show?

Yes, of course.

Lisbeth will be there.

Really?

Does she act in it? What does she do?

No, she stopped that after high school.

But Chanssou left us the theater to do our stuff.

And Lisbeth, well...

she watches us,

advises us.

Sometimes she opens up, does the door.

We loved doing all this when we were 12 or 13,

helping Chanssou.

I hope she takes it up again.

Well...

see you.

Try to get some sleep.

Yes.

Pissing in the courtyard, Chevalier?

Sorry, yes. I grew up on a farm, I like the feeling.

But don't worry. I hose it down every day.

By the way, your daughter was here.

My daughter? Are you sure?

It's what she said. I was here, smoking, the gate was open.

She asked to have a look.

You should have made her stay.

I didn't even know you had a daughter.

She could have been anyone.

A Gypsy look, with her make-up.

Gypsy?

She's blonde, isn't she?

Yes and no. I dunno...

- Do I look Gyspy? - Yes.

Definitely.

Have a nice day.

You too.

I can't get you your pain au chocolat, sorry.

It stinks!

Dung. But it's not as bad as other shit.

I'll pass on the pain au chocolat this morning.

You say "dung." From a horse?

Yes, dung. Horse dung.

But what horses? There are no horses around here.

What do I know? I'm staying at my aunt's, I'm not from here.

There must be some horses.

Maybe the Republican Guard.

But that's rare. And they don't pass by here.

Who are they?

Horseback police.

Yes, there's such a thing.

Have a nice day.

Wait.

Some girls gave me this to give to you.

It's for a theater with a bird name.

- The White Toucan. - Yes, you know it?

Yes, it's where I started.

Started what?

Nothing. Bye.

We'll try to be more precise about that moment

when Hugo takes down

the painting of Léopoldine, which is now in the museum.

He's not really Hugo at that moment, he's more Victor.

The horrible thing

is that he must now reply

to the condolences from Lamartine, Baudelaire, Flaubert...

Don't forget King Louis-Philippe and François Guizot.

Is someone there?

Is someone there?

I'm sweeping the landing.

Working on Sunday?

You should rest, Mr. Zucchini.

It's all I enjoy.

Your Hugo will eat you up.

It's all I enjoy. And I perform even on Sundays.

- Have a nice day. - You too.

Okay, Mabrouk? How has your day been?

It's been good today.

For me too.

I've done some good work, I'm pleased.

My son's doing Hugo in junior high.

That poem...

How many sailors, how many captains...

Happy to set forth for distant shores

Have vanished beyond that dark horizon?

A famous poem.

Beautiful, lyrical.

I don't include it but I should.

How old is he?

Eleven.

How many have sunk, deserted by luck

In a bottomless sea on a night of no moon?

Under the blind ocean, forever engulfed

How many crews with their captains?

This is him,

this photo.

Your son?

What a handsome boy! He looks like you.

You have really similar eyes.

Bravo, Mabrouk. That's wonderful.

- You're waiting for a call? - Yes, from my daughter.

I don't know, I always get her voicemail.

I never get to talk to her.

How old is she?

She's... 2002.

July 2002.

Youngsters never answer.

Try a text message.

Yes, maybe I can try that.

But what do I say?

We're not really in touch.

Or a photo. They like that.

A photo of what?

Of yourself.

A photo of me? Are you crazy?

- Or a voice message. - What?

A voice message.

The little icon of the microphone.

What do you mean by icon? The little characters?

- The emojis. - What?

The emojis!

- The little characters? - Press the icon of the microphone.

Record and send a message.

Okay, but I have to...

I have to concentrate, to think about it.

Don't think about it, just go ahead and do it!

It's complicated.

What are you doing, Mabrouk?

But, Mabrouk!

Give me that.

Mabrouk!

- My phone's nearly dead. - I'm doing what I have to.

There!

Yes, Lisbeth, sweetheart.

This is Mabrouk.

On behalf of your father,

who I've known for a long time and like very much,

I'm saying please reply to him.

Because he's sad and he misses you.

He wants to talk to you, that's normal.

That's how dads are.

Even if at times, I suppose, he wasn't the best dad,

even really hopeless at times, I've heard,

not to say that he absolutely sucked,

you have to reply.

- You didn't send that? - Great!

You're crazy!

- That's good. - You sent that?

Saying that I was hopeless?

She'll understand.

You're crazy, Mabrouk.

What will she think of...?

The car's going!

My car!

Stop!

The car. How do I get to the theater?

I'll call again.

We have half an hour.

He's never not showed up.

I'm in deep shit.

Cosima.

Tonight?

No, right, this isn't the time.

No answer.

What, he's on his way?

The car's been found.

That's great.

Yeah, great!

Régis!

Régis!

I couldn't come in the front way. I had to break in.

We've been freaking out.

I got lost in the metro.

Your text is on stage.

- Has Mabrouk got his car back? - Yeah, it's fine.

- Sure? - Yes.

I don't believe all this!

- My mic? - You scared us, Robert.

I couldn't do otherwise.

- Not the mic? - No, don't.

Merde, merde!

That's so kind, thank you.

Thank you.

This has never happened to me before, in 40 years treading the boards.

I can't tell you what happened, it's not interesting at all.

It's never happened to me before. I could say there were problems,

but the real problem

is that I nearly missed this magical rendezvous

with a thousand people in this magnificent theater,

which experienced the presence of Victor Hugo.

And I'm wondering how Victor Hugo would have reacted

to this unbelievable inability to be on time,

to this absence of punctuality.

I didn't have time to change. "Who cares?" you'll say.

And you're right. What does it matter compared to Hugo?

I haven't changed, I'm not made-up.

That lady there is looking at me

and thinking: "He looks different from usual."

I didn't have time for make-up. It's not important.

There goes a cellphone!

No, but that's fair enough.

He's been waiting for 20 minutes.

You're right, Sir.

I won't argue with you.

You're totally right to tell your friend:

"He's 25 minutes late."

So I'll start with...

I'll start with... I'll just look at...

A poem?

Yes, a poem.

Yes, he's right.

I should start with the main thing.

I'll recite the poem.

The reason I'm late...

It's unconventional to explain,

but it's because of someone you may not know.

His name is Mabrouk.

You'll think I've got a nerve, turning up late,

but I'd like you to applaud Mabrouk.

You don't know why, but he does.

I'll start with this masterpiece.

I'm saying that...

it's his masterpiece. Yes.

It was... no.

Excuse me, I'm a bit lost.

Tomorrow at dawn, at the hour the countryside turns white

I will leave, you see

I know that you're waiting for me

I'll go through the forest

I'll go over the mountains

I can stay away from you no longer

I shall walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts

Seeing nothing outside

Hearing no sound

Alone, unknown

Back bowed, hands crossed, sad

And the day for me shall be as the night

I shall watch neither the falling gold of night

Nor the distant sails approaching Harfleur

And when I arrive I shall place on your grave

A bouquet of green ivy and heather.

That's the genius of Victor Hugo.

I'm not starting with a happy moment, but it's a great poem.

According to Péguy... We don't read Péguy enough.

Péguy was a madman.

A genius.

He invented a musical structure for words.

And Péguy

said that Booz Asleep

is maybe one of the four greatest poems

of Judeo-Christian civilization.

I'll sit over here.

I'm really moved by the attention

you're paying me.

So...

where was I? I'm a bit lost.

Yes, Booz Asleep.

Can I help you?

Sorry, I was just looking at the portraits.

Don't look so sad.

They're just forgotten faces.

Or not forgotten, in the best cases.

Are you looking for the exit?

I don't know.

No, really, I don't know.

- Do you work here? - Yes.

I work in a theater too.

A much more modest one.

Are you an actress?

No.

Well, since you're here, I'll show you something.

Come on.

No one's usually allowed in here.

You're privileged.

- Did you hear Zucchini earlier? - Yes.

- Is he usually in disarray like that? - No.

Never.

I'm Lisbeth.

Sorry, I...

I don't know who...

I'm going to go. Thank you.

Lisbeth!

Lisbeth!

Give him a chance.

Disarray

makes the event.

It's the surprise, the grain of sand, the snag,

the arbitrary... It's wonderful!

I'm usually well organized.

My feet are firmly planted.

I'm even someone who's quite punctilious.

But when things get jostled, when they bang

and knock,

then disarray makes the event.

You're my event, Lisbeth.

Did I say this early?

Yes. Well, you said 5:30.

Here, I've brought you

some totally crushed pastry puffs.

Thanks.

What a lovely place to live,

Les Lilas.

Come in, if you want.

I'd love to.

I know that

you came to my place.

But I missed you because...

I get home late, I always see people after the show.

My dentist is near there.

I'd never dropped in there before.

Thank you for finally coming to the theater.

You should thank Mabrouk.

Which is what you did.

You've kept them all?

Chill! I haven't read them all.

I didn't know how to make myself available for every birthday.

So I'd send a book instead.

He's been nagging away at you for a long time.

Your show goes back a long way.

You can't deny that.

Yes, a long way. And I don't know why.

It's the genius of the man.

For your seventh birthday, I thought Les Misérables would be good.

Even though you wouldn't read it until later.

A book, yeah, it's not bad.

No, twenty-two books.

Better than nothing.

But did you really think

The Contemplations was right for a four-year-old?

I was way off the mark there.

But I sent you the Kickers too.

That's true.

I don't know what got into you that year.

No way!

- What? - You're going to read it.

You're getting ready to read it.

I don't want you to.

Fine.

I know it by heart anyway.

A beautiful poem that Victor Hugo wrote about birds.

And he ends it with...

A dove and I were long in love

The art of taming souls I learnt thereof.

You can't help yourself.

It's your thing.

Your bag.

It's not bad, being able to write that:

The art of taming souls I learnt thereof.

I'd like to believe in souls.

- Mangiare? - Yes.

He did. I'd say it's all he believed in.

He even got into spiritualism in Jersey,

making contact

with spirits.

Shakespeare, Molière, Jesus,

Mohamed.

He sincerely believed in that.

And he hated being mocked about it.

Great!

- Shall we eat? - Yes.

Otherwise we'll end up being late.

I hate not being punctual.

- Where's Jersey? - Jersey? It's next to Guernsey.

I bet you don't know anything

about that group.

No.

It's one of her old t-shirts.

I liked her in it. It made her look...

like a young rocker.

They were a really big group in the 70s.

For two years,

I lived on the same landing as Magma's drummer.

That sign was on his door, it was amazing.

Your mom and I went to two concerts.

They invented a language.

Like what?

Like...

Just a second, it's not like it was yesterday.

I remember...

I don't know if it was "shiwa," but it sounded like "kobashi shiwa."

- What did it mean? - I don't know. No idea.

They sang it all in a rush...

And everyone shouted it back like mad.

I'll play you the LPs.

- May I settle up, please? - Of course.

We say "vinyls" nowadays.

That was really good.

You came on a bike. Is your chauffeur always available?

He's not my chauffeur, this is Mabrouk.

This is my daughter, Lisbeth.

- Mabrouk, my friend. - Pleased to meet you.

We'll end up being late. Let's go.

- Get in the back. - I'm not the king of England.

But you're Lisbeth Rockwell.

- I get sick in the back. - Okay.

But I feel like a kid sitting back here.

"The poor child found herself in the dark.

"She plowed on.

"Only, as a certain emotion overcame her,

"she rattled the bucket's handle as much as she could,

"making a noise to accompany her.

"She forged on desperately.

"As she ran she felt like crying.

"The quivering night-time forest enveloped her.

"She could no longer see,

"could no longer think."

"The immense night..."

"The immense night faced this tiny creature.

"On one side, all that darkness. On the other, an atom."

The letters on the ground, that's strange.

No, but I like it.

I really like it.

"Take my life.

"Take my future.

"Take my freedom.

"Take all my actions. Take the breath from my mouth,

"the blood from my veins, the hours of my days and nights.

"Take my dreams, my hopes, my joys and my pains.

"Take all of me.

"Take my soul and keep forever my heart."

No effects, no fuss, just the text

and their dresses.

- Here they are. - Hello.

I think the show is wonderful.

Thanks.

I thought all three of you were incredible.

Thank you.

Really.

I did go blank at one point.

Who cares? Going blank was great, something happened.

Screw the text!

That's going a bit far.

You can't screw the text. It's Hugo's language.

No, but...

I think that what you're saying

is that we're playing

with breaking the texts into pieces, fragmenting them.

It's a collage, almost.

Yes, and how you select the pieces is destabilizing.

- Really? - Yes. How can I put it?

You start with Les Misérables. Okay, got that.

Then it's a love letter.

You're mixing things up,

there are little juxtapositions

of things in that way...

You've sort of leapt across various periods.

That's funny, because your show is selected pieces too.

Yes, it could look like that.

That's exactly what it is.

He's unbelievable!

And what we're doing is in juxtaposition to you.

That's our freedom.

That's a Hugo thing, freedom.

Thanks for coming anyway.

No, thank you.

- See you. - Bravo!

It's hard for me to talk about all that

because...

your mother introduced me to Victor Hugo

and made me read him.

And the first time we kissed was in Guernsey.

- Where's Guernsey? - I told you.

The Anglo-Norman island where he was in exile for 15 years.

Where he wrote his masterpieces:

The Contemplations, The Legend of the Ages...

And you too?

For all this time...

were you in exile in Anglo-Normandy?

So now you'll answer my text messages?

What do you think?

Pia Pépin. Excuse me.

If someone replies with "What do you think?"

does that mean yes?

Generally speaking.

Yes.

Thank you, Pia Pépin.

Love!

You're back early?

It's not Love.

It's not Love, it's Mogdi.

Sorry. My wife told me about you.

You know that I have a daughter?

Me too. A daughter and two boys.

Great. Excuse me, it's my wife.

Excuse me.

How are you, my love?

One more room-service Caesar salad and I'll go insane.

Order something else. A T-bone steak and a grillé cheese.

- It's "grilled cheese." - Yes.

You have to come home.

It's time to come home.

Lots of things are happening here, my love.

I've met Mogdi. She's shy, but she's sweet.

When are you coming?

- What "things"? - Look, you have to come home.

I'm done AF, I swear.

"Done AF"?

What's happened to you?

- Did it go okay last night? - It was great!

That good?

Are you sure you're okay?

Chill, my love. Chill!

I understand "chill."

But "done AF"?

Done as fuck! I can't take anymore.

Done AF, okay.

Bergame wants you to extend it.

It's started well and it's sold out.

No, I can't, I need a break.

You hate breaks.

Okay, I'll check the flights.

Yes. See you very soon, my love.

I love you.

I love you too.

Take care.

"I googled Guernsey. It looks cool."

You gave me a fright.

Hello, Loretta. Found anything interesting?

Nothing tonight.

Yesterday I found a vape and a 20-euro bill.

A full house?

I think so.

- Schoolkids? - Yeah.

A group of them. Sorry.

No, that's good.

It's a challenge.

- Come on, then, say it. - What?

You know. Merde.

Merde, merde, merde, Mr. Zucchini!

One is enough.

Now I must talk about something very serious.

Yes, the most famous poet,

the most important man,

this opponent of the death sentence,

this man who had a mind-blowing burial,

attended by two million people...

This man, for two and half years in Jersey,

devoted himself

to spiritualism.

You thought: "Oh, no, not something nasty!"

No.

I sensed you thinking: "Shit! What did Hugo get up to?"

Well, be reassured, it was only spiritualism.

It was very fashionable in the 19th century.

I can't explain what it is very well.

They sit around a table,

and by concentrating,

they get spirits to come down to the table.

I advise the curious among you, the poets,

to read this masterpiece which is called

The Book of the Tables.

For two and a half years,

he made a note of each one of his mind-blowing experiences.

This let him create The Legend of the Ages.

We need to understand his penchant for séances.

The family's best friend was Delphine de Girardin.

She was a big friend of the Hugos.

She turned up on September 4th 1853,

and said to Hugo:

"Doesn't it seem odd to you

"that I'm arriving on September 4th 1853,

"the tenth anniversary of Léopoldine's death?"

And she was bathed in spiritualism.

She said: "I can put you in touch with Léopoldine."

And he got in touch with her, but we'll never know what was said.

He didn't write about it.

These are all the major séances,

but no one knows how the séances with his daughter went.

The first séance began with: "Who's there?"

The table replied: "Molière."

Not bad, for a first visitor.

They don't have television, but they have Molière showing up.

"Will you talk by yourself?" asked Hugo.

"Or shall we question you?

"If you want to talk by yourself, one knock.

"If not, two knocks."

There are two knocks on the table.

So Hugo carries on.

"We'll question you in verse, as you requested.

"Auguste Vacquerie has written a question.

"Is it necessary to read the question to you

"for you to answer?"

"The table doesn't move at all.

"We wait for a few minutes.

"The table's immobility is absolute."

That's genius!

"We wonder if the question has offended him."

Now the most extraordinary bit.

"Who is there?"

asks Victor Hugo.

The table replies: "Lope."

"De Vega?"

"Yes."

"Who are you here for?"

"For you."

"Do you have a communication to make to me?"

"Yes."

"Speak."

"Your."

"Carry on."

"Seen."

"Carry on."

"B.P."

"Did you say B.P.?"

"No."

"Did you say seen?"

"No."

"Did you say your?"

"No."

"So you have no communication to make?"

"No."

What a great dialogue!

Once again because I love this.

We're with the spirits. Do you have a communication to make?

Yes.

Speak!

Your.

Carry on.

Seen.

Carry on.

B.P.

- Did you say B.P.? - No.

- Did you say seen? - No.

- Did you say your? - No.

- You have no communication to make? - No.

- So you're not here for me? - No.

Are you Lope de Vega? No!

Victor Hugo's masterpiece!

Well?

No one.

I don't want to go home tomorrow.

There's nothing to do in Gex.

The whole region is dead.

Well, there's the swimming pool.

You can come again.

Here.

- A present? - Not from me, from Zucchini.

He dropped it off. You finished early yesterday.

Thanks, Mr. Zucchini.

It's a book.

Les Misérables.

We have a copy,

but this will be mine.

You're in it, Éponine, with poor Cosette.

Zucchini has written something.

"Dear Éponine,

"Yes, it's all intentional.

"up to a certain, always surprising, point of no-return.

"Warm regards, Zucchini."

That's nice, isn't it?

I like that "point of no-return."

Maybe I'll read it.

I said maybe.

No! My watch.

- What? - No, not my watch.

Not my watch. Yes, it is.

My watch.

Sometimes it really is necessary.

Are you talking to yourself?

That's the slippery slope!

No, don't say that, my love.

No, I'm joking.

You're climbing the slope.

You're climbing it.

At what time?

Fifty-five.

I have to finish packing.

Did this crazy idea seize both of you together?

Was it your idea or hers?

Both, really. From text message to text message.

So you text each other now?

A bit.

And we've talked about it.

And then... No, actually it was her idea.

You're not coming?

I'd find it reassuring.

She's okay with it.

You can change your mind, my treasure.

"Treasure"?

It just came to me.

I like it.

No, go ahead. I'm going to see the Jacques family.

And if I come, she'll think you're scared.

Of what?

Well...

of being alone with her,

of getting bored, I don't know.

You're not afraid of being alone with her?

Octave knew it.

He's my boyfriend. Can he come?

He knows the group?

Does Octave have a ticket?

Ask him, Dad, he's right there.

Yeah, I travel for free. My dad works on the railways.

Otherwise it was like a pilgrimage. A bit... weird.

- Welcome, Octave! - Thanks.

- Shall we go? - Yes, come on.

In you get, Octave.

So it's a job that interests you, music?

Yes, I like it. I like it.

But it's not my main job.

I don't live off it.

It's a passion.

Yeah... yes.

But I'd like it to become my profession.

So what is your actual profession?

A waiter in a restaurant.

- Is that him? - Yes.

That's really famous, look.

Look at this.

That's Léopoldine. The major event in Hugo's life.

His child who died aged 19 in a boating accident.

The amazing poem he wrote much later.

I became as though a madman in that first moment

I cried bitter tears for three days...

It ended: It seemed that it was all a terrible dream

That she couldn't have left me thus

That I could hear her laughing in the next room

That she couldn't be dead

And that I would see her come in through that door

At times I said: Silence, she speaks!

That's the sound of her hand turning the key

Wait, she's coming, let me hear

For she is, without doubt, in the house somewhere...

Did he write on that rotten old table?

What you call a rotten old table

is indeed what he wrote his masterpieces on.

He wrote standing up, facing the sea.

- Here? - There.

That's the spot.

Hauteville House provides a rare glimpse

of the poet's commitment and oeuvre.

As well as writing here the masterpieces of...

This is the smoking room.

The sideboard, the Rimbaud-like sideboard.

And come and see this.

Look at that garden.

That view is...

Look!

He seems bored, but deep down he's a good guy.

Do you think he's handsome or ugly?

Unique, unique.

And you?

It depends on the day.

That won't be easy for him.

Look, this is amazing.

The oak gallery.

Everything is oak.

That bed

is where he wanted to die.

But he didn't sleep on it much.

That didn't interest him at all.

Look.

Are you ready?

Hello, I'm Adèle Hugo,

Victor Hugo's wife.

Some people claim I'm a robot.

I don't believe it.

I'm here to tell you about Victor Hugo

and this house of which I'm the mistress.

Shall we begin by becoming acquainted?

Feel free to ask questions about me.

Press the button below to find out about my life and that of my family.

How can I help you?

Go on, ask a question.

About where he had his séances?

No, he didn't do that here, he did it in Jersey,

the first island.

He'd stopped before coming here.

Go on, ask something else.

I don't know.

Ask where he wrote Booz Asleep and The Legend of the Ages.

In which room did he write Booz Asleep and The Legend of the Ages?

You can eat at any time in a perimeter of 25 to 1000 meters.

Surreal!

- It's not very... - Go on, ask another.

Where did my father kiss my mother for the first time?

I took her out on a boat,

so we could see Victor Hugo's house from a distance.

That was where I kissed her.

Why did you leave her?

Was it just a fling, a passing fancy?

Because my mom was wonderful, wasn't she?

Wasn't she wonderful?

Yes, she was.

It wasn't a fling.

On the contrary, it was really important.

But I was afraid. That was it.

I panicked like at no other time.

Precisely because I knew how important it was.

An idiot's panic,

an incompetent's panic.

Panic?

You hear that, he panicked?

Excuse me. Are you...?

Hello, Sir.

- You speak French? - Of course.

I'm looking for my daughter.

A young woman, quite small,

with her tall boyfriend.

Yes, they've left.

When?

It was early this morning, at about 7:30.

They left their bag.

Okay, so that means they're still on the island.

- Certainly, Sir. - Great.

They asked me something.

They wanted to go...

surfing or boating. I can't remember exactly.

Boating? What sort of boating?

Maybe kayaking.

Sea kayaking.

Or windsurfing.

Windsurfing, but how?

You can rent the boards.

Don't worry, it's not dangerous.

It's not like they've gone paragliding!

Hi, this is Lisbeth Rockwell. Leave a message.

Uh, small, with a boyfriend.

Yeah, yeah. This morning. Yeah, yeah.

They should be back. Um, this morning. - At what time?

Yeah. - And where?

They took wind surfs.

- Yeah. - Yes, but ask the Coast Guard.

It's going to be okay, sir.

Okay.

This way.

Step on board, sir. - Thank you.

Hello, sir. Hello. - Hello.

This way. - We’re leaving now?

Yes. - Okay.

Sir, we told you because we know it's going to be fine.

The sailboat, it floats.

Especially those.

Like the sail board, you know? That they, they float.

They can stay on it. Like, lie down on it.

Yes. It's okay?

Yeah, and...

And they can swim, like, swim, right?

Uh, I don't know.

I don't know if they can.

That's okay.

Crap. Shoot.

Right there. It’s empty. Empty.

There's an empty board.

Just keep going straight, okay? Thanks.

Come on.

Where are you?

I see them!

Yep. Right there.

They're moving!

They're moving.

Where? - Over there. Right there.

See? Just in front. Right there. - Yes.

Yes.

Well, you were right to come to us. You're very, very...

You have good instincts. Yes?

Yes!

What do you do? What branch are you in?

I'm... actor? Actor.

What kind? What kind of acting?

I read poems. - Poetry?

Hey, we have Victor Hugo's house in the island, you know?

Yes.

You like him?

I like him.

I like them.

I like you!

We like you too.

Sir, sir, sir. Right here, okay?

Just stand here. Hold against the door.

He's going to go around, alright?

She's going to pick him up. It’s gonna be okay.

Do you know one?

A poem by Hugo? Like, say one.

What? - Hey. Come on.

You owe us. - Ah, yes.

She was in the habit in her childhood

Of coming into my room every morning

I waited for her like a hoped-for ray of light

She'd enter

and say...

Good morning, dear Papa.

She'd pick up my quill

Open my books, sit on my bed

Mess up my papers, and laugh

Then suddenly be gone like a passing bird

I'd return, my head less heavy, to my interrupted work

And, as I wrote

I'd sometimes happen upon some silly doodle she had scribbled

And blank pages crumpled by her hand

On which, I know not how I wrote my finest verse

She loved God, flowers, the stars, green meadows

She was a spirit before being a woman

Her eyes reflected the clarity of her soul

She'd ask me about anything at any hour

Such winter evenings, filled with warmth and charm

Discussing language, history and grammar

My four children on my lap

Their mother close by

Some friends chatting by the fire

I called that life contentment with small things.

a film by PASCAL BONITZER

screenplay SOPHIE FILLIÈRES

Subtitles by Howard Bonsor

Subtitling TITRAFILM