All language subtitles for Daddy Nostalgie (These Foolish Things)

That morning

Caroline dreamed she and Mother
took Daddy on a world tour.

He sat in a wheelbarrow
with a leafless tree

to which they tied souvenirs

from Singapore, Hong Kong,
New Delhi,

to show to people
they'd meet on their way.

They left a note on the kitchen table.
"We left."

Daddy wasn't sad.
On the contrary.

He greeted passersby
and gave them gifts.

He was smiling.
He was beaming.

Thus they went from village to village,

crossing rivers, climbing hills,

taking turns pushing the wheelbarrow

without ever getting tired...
so light Daddy seemed.

But as they reached a barren hill,

Caroline suddenly took fright.

What if it wasn't she who was there,

but someone else?

She ran ahead to the top
of the hill to make sure.

And from up there,

she recognized the yellow hair
and skinny legs of a girl of 12.

It was indeed she
with the wheelbarrow.

Relieved, she began and couldn't stop.

And Daddy and her mother
also began to laugh.

And from echo to echo,

their laughter spread
around the whole world.

You sound upset.
What's wrong?

What did you say?

Okay... I'll come right away.

Take care.

Give him my love.

Don't worry!

I'm coming!

Not very gay, here, eh?

No.

You think so?

Where's my room?

Aren't you glad to see me?

When's the operation?

It's over. You did fine.

I'd like a scotch.

What?

I'd like a scotch.

You must leave now.

Caro.

Am I going to die?

I didn't drag myself here
just for a hospital visit.

How does he seem?

He's scared,
but he's going to make it.

I'm taking you out to dinner, okay?

They changed my room.

How's the morale, Mr. Russel?

Ready for your washup?

If you like.

Not so hard, please.

It's your husband's arteries?

Me, it's my foot.

When I had my algus valgus operation,

they repaired an old fracture.

When I was a little girl
I broke my foot playing tag.

So they fixed it at the same time

and put in a pin.

But the damned pin wouldn't hold,

so they stitched it up instead.

Seems I'm their first case.

No luck, eh?

Hospital's good, though.

And as for the food, bravo!

I look like an old witch.

Sit down and stop talking nonsense.

You won't see a thing.

Look what I put on.

The things you filch in hotels,
like sewing kits and bathing caps.

You're funny.

Why?

Your father has a foot in the grave
and you play around.

Maybe you're right after all.

All I know is
you always call me, not Maitou.

But the poor girl's in Quebec.

So that leaves me,
the irresponsible one.

If it bothers you...

Not at all.

But don't baby me.
And Daddy's not dying!

- But the doctor's...
- Are idiots.

They left a mess.

We look like gypsies.

- What?
- A mess!

Wait! Wait!

What are you doing?
Are you crazy?

No.

Just going for a handkerchief.

I'll go.

He can't go upstairs.

Once a day is different.
But not all the time.

At your orders, my ladies.

Repeat that and I plug you.

You okay, Tony?

Yes, okay, okay.

What does that mean, "I flug you"?

"Plug," not flug! Plug!

Your hands are icy.

Sorry, Miche.
It's the operation, you know.

Much better.

His hair's darker, isn't it?

It's blond in the sun.

You'll bring him this summer?

Unless Bernard takes him to California.

- They have to be removed?
- They could get infected.

Are there many?

- 12.
- 12?

Don't be fooled.

It doesn't hurt.

Yes, it does.

It's the thought that's unpleasant.

If you were cross-eyed and hairy-legged,
he'd be less brave.

My uncle was like that...
courted the girls even on his deathbed.

On his deathbed!

How charming!

Only a few left.

How many?

Ten.

I meant how many drops of whiskey?

Good day,
ladies and gentlemen.

At this very moment

thousands of the faithful

are assembled in the meadow
outside Ars

to attend the open-air mass

- celebrated by the Pope.
- You put whiskey in his Coke.

I swear before your Pope, I did not.

Heretics!

What about the Irish
nailing down English tongues.

Hello.

Yes. Hold on, please.

- Caro, it's for you.
- Who is it?

Take it and see.
Careful!

Hello.

Yeah.

On the contrary, Miche.

What?

Do you think your story
will interest people?

I hope so.

Wouldn't you prefer writing plays?

What's wrong with movies?

You get so upset when the reviews
only mention the director.

With plays, you get credit.

Ah, yes.

You're so good at dialogue.
It's a shame.

A shame!
Now we've heard it all!

As long as it makes you happy.

I'd be happy if you kept quiet a bit.

I'll fix his hot water bottle.

That was Bernard's favorite dish.

If I hadn't left him,
I wouldn't know how to do anything.

You'd have kept writing.

When you're earning a living,
you have to see it through.

Mustard.

Mustard.

You think it's disgusting,
but I swear it'll be just fine.

What if you run out
of inspiration some day?

I'll get a job at the post office.

At least there's a pension plan.

My job also has a pension plan.

Even your Dad's pension
won't pay the rent.

We should have
bought the house cheap, years ago.

But this way, you girls
won't have an inheritance tax.

Stop worrying, Mama.

You make me nervous.

Let's say it's nice out, okay?

We'll eat in the garden like old times

and say we're lucky
to live on the C�te d'Azur

before they block our view
with a 10-story building.

They've already begun.

When will you grow up?

The same day you do.

Thanks.

You're crazy.

Oysters aren't that expensive.

Don't you want any?

She doesn't like them.

Ah, that's odd...

You'll learn that
when you get to know me.

He's deaf as a post.

Last night, he talked about London
as if I'd never been there.

I said, "You know,
I've also been to Harrod's."

He looked surprised,
and then he said,

"Funny. I've no memory of you
before you were 20."

I'm terrified he'll go soft
in the head some day.

A drop of wine?

I told you not to take out the bottle.

Let him drink the whole bottle.
See if I care!

If you go soft, don't count on me.
I know where to go!

Go help him up the stairs.

May I?

Leave it. I'll do it.

You can't keep him under glass.

He mustn't drink.

It's his only pleasure.
There's so few left.

If he could live a year or two...

Depends on what you call living.

I'm sorry.

I'm just going to step out a bit.

Is that okay?

Do as you like.

Come inside.

You'll catch cold.

Bernard called.

What about?

I'm freezing.

It's cleaner than your horrid tea.

You've told me that story 20 times.

Caro, you should call Bernard.

Martin was upset because
Bernard forgot the PTA meeting.

Who, Bernard or Martin?

Bernard.

Usually it's the mother who goes.

You never set foot in a PTA meeting.

The times were different.

I went to loads of meetings.

Bernard can go for once.

Martin's a real pain
when it comes to school.

What the teacher says
is the Word of God.

He needs something to hold on to.

There she goes again.

And now, here's Mrs. Namby-Pamby
on the plight of children of divorce.

- Is there a problem?
- No, nothing.

Today, it's the kids of married couples
who see the shrinks.

They're disturbed about being different.

That must be Yvonne.

And don't bring your tea
into the living room!

I'll just stay in here.

Tony, you can't.
She came especially to see you!

Miche, dear, it's not my fault.

You're both impossible.

- Bad news, Yvonne.
- How awful!

You shouldn't have bothered...
with this wind!

As long as my legs hold out.
I wouldn't miss Tony.

Nothing like walking to keep fit.

Take fresh whiting
to make a white wine bouillon

with carrots, fennel,
a pinch of saffron.

Then put your fish in
for twenty minutes on low.

At the last moment
you take the whiting

and serve it
with croutons and mayonnaise.

Everyone will love it.

Hello? Martin? It's mama.

Papa's not there? I know...

I know... I know!

You don't have to yell!

Okay, I got the message.

Yes. Listen.

I'll go next time, okay?

I promise!

Yeah.

He said that?

With the mugs they have,
your teachers would scare him!

No, Martin...
I was just kidding...

Okay.

What are you doing right now?

Watching television?

Yes. I'll get off then.

A big ki...

Caroline!

Coming!

The dead...

I have only the dead.

The war took all my friends.

The war...

The war took all my dancers...

The war...
The war...

took all my dancers.

Caro, it's really rude.

I'm coming.

You reached Martin?

Yes.

Just a second
while I finish one last thing, okay?

You'll be right down?

Yes, right down!

That's fine.

You'll love this scene.

Come on!

She's already gone.

My friends don't like walking in the dark.

Another tramp was killed near Town Hall.

He was stabbed 20 times.

Can I read my scene?

As long as it's not anti-religious.

No, it's gory. You'll love it.

You scare me... and my hair...

You little wench... listen... my dear...

Writers aren't the ones to lock up.

It's the ones who bomb cinemas

without having seen the movie.

Yes, but...

No buts! They're terrorists!

It's beautiful when he says,

"I survived in my mother's womb,
no desert can frighten me."

Very beautiful.

Are you proud?

Yes.

Leave the lights on,
and don't you two go out.

Of course not.

Sleep.

- What a pleasure to see you, Mr. Russel.
- Thank you.

I heard you were ill.

Yes, I nearly died.

But that's no problem.
I'm used to it.

No, my only fear is my legs.

If I can't walk to the bar
from the parking lot, I'm through.

So I deserve a large whiskey.

This is my first outing
in two months.

The usual... water, no ice.

Yes.

When I saw the match,
I said, "It's Fontenay."

Fontenay was a victory.

No, a defeat.

- Jimmy.
- Not at all.

Another! And you darling?

The same.

The same for Madame!

A glass of white wine.

Thank you.

Mr. Russell, can you tell me...

Was Fontenay a victory or a defeat?

It was a victory.

For whom?

For the French, idiot!

- Yeah?
- Of course.

- You think so?
- Of course.

That's what he said.

Fonten... what?

And you make him scrambled eggs!

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

- You were out drinking last night.
- No.

We were not.

Where are you going?

Out.

This hostage business is awful.

Politics don't interest you.

Not really, no.

That's odd.

I'm a left-wing Royalist.

The Figaro's not for leftists.

Confined like that for 48 hours!

Couldn't even get up to pee!

All these Arabs should be bombed!

Oh, Mother!

Whatever...

Caro, telephone!

Your director, I think.

Is this a description of me?

Hey, good-Iooking!

Must I rinse your teapot again?
You know how I hate that.

And your pipe. I asked you
time and time again not to put it like that.

But it's just for fun.

The pipe's empty.
I can't smoke anymore!

There's less smell like that.

Cold pipe tobacco stinks.

- Same with cigarettes.
- True.

His pipe's dirtied everything.
Look at the armchair!

And the colors...
the curtains.

We should have bought a two-room flat
in Paris instead.

You have your bridge here,
and the garden.

Dear Yvonne.

What a wind!

That's not wind.
It's barely a breeze.

They said it on the radio.
It's always windy here.

Their bloody mistral drives you crazy.

You prefer the Basque country.

At least there are real trees and grass.

Not this harsh ground.

And the Basques are different.

What was your cat's name?

Chapi.

I sewed her dresses.

Funny that you never wanted to learn piano.

My mother played all day long.
That was enough.

But when did she spend time with you?
Talk to you?

That's the past.
When does your friend arrive?

Sometime this afternoon.

It's nice here.

I can't picture it.

She left you all alone all day,
but played piano for your father.

They were really in love.

But what about you?

She made me say my prayers at night.

His naps are longer and longer.

He's catching up.

He's very weak, you know.

Why don't you ever
talk about the past to him?

He'd love that.

Yes, but I find it painful.

We should give the swing to the Caubets.

What about Martin?

He comes so rarely now.

At his age, the garden bores him.

I'll make you another baby some day
to take to the beach.

Don't talk nonsense.

You used to like my nonsense.

I'm no longer any fun,
so everybody tells me.

Who does?

Everybody.
I get less invitations to play bridge.

No one wants you around when you're sad.
It's normal.

Let yourself go, Mama.

Have a good cry.
Go on. Try.

I can't.

I never could.

Try.

It's your dumb parents' fault.

That must be your friend.

Coming!

- Hi!
- Hi.

How are things?

I'll introduce you.

Mama. Juliette.

Juliette. Mama.

- Hello.
- Hello.

Caroline says you're an actress.

Yes, I'm on tour.

We're in Marseilles. What weather!

Fall's the best time...
except some wind.

- That's true.
- Let's go.

Already? You could have a drink.

- Sure.
- No, no. We'll go to a caf�.

- Good-bye.
- Take a sweater. It's cool at night.

Yes, Mama!

The play's doing well?

Super! If this doesn't land me a movie,
I'll open a laundry.

There's nothing for you in my script.

Oh, that's okay.

You'll inspire me one day.

I can't find my keys.

You lost your keys?
You dummy. Let me try.

- Wait.
- It's open.

It's too bad about this wind.
We might have had a stroll.

It's too windy!

Anyway, you're never satisfied.

Bloody wind.
It's mucked up the beach.

What nerve?
You're so lucky to work here.

I came for my father.
I've hardly seen the beach.

Still, nature must be some help.

You looking for syringes?

What are you doing?

When Daddy's gone,
I inherit Mama.

- To live with you?
- Yes.

She can't live alone.
She's afraid of the dark.

But your own life...

It will be the second love
of my life.

My mother.

Haven't you finished?

- No, it was a bit too much.
- It wasn't good?

It was great!

- You liked the crab?
- Yes, very good.

I'll tell the chef.

- Shall we split it?
- Certainly not.

That's no signature.
It's a nervous fit.

He's right.

What is it?

Nothing.

I was afraid
you were scared of the storm.

Daddy said that during the war,

Mama would wake during a storm

and he'd say,
"It's no storm, it's an air raid."

Then she'd go back to sleep.

Bernard? Oh, shit.

Yes, it's me again.

We got cut off
because of the storm.

I know it's 2 AM!

I can't sleep. I'm sorry.

Yes, I'll be back soon.

One more week is no big deal.

Then go to sleep!

Give Martin a kiss for me.
Good-bye.

Don't bother asking me
why I left him.

Some days I wish
I were someone else.

Maude Halifax's niece
was hit by a truck.

How awful.

Her backbone was injured.

If she lives,
she may be paralyzed.

Do you remember her?
A lovely girl, your age.

Her third child
was born this winter.

A very good marriage.

These trucks are a curse.

Went through a red light, surely.

Just brilliant.

That's for starting breakfast
with horrors.

Coke stains never wash out.
I'm covered.

Don't give up so quickly.

Look at that.
A nice, clean blouse.

You met your future paralytic
only once.

There. The stain's gone.

I'm telling you, it's gone!

She's my friend's niece.

I don't give a damn!
Just let it go!

I feel like
I've mothered a duck.

I can hear you, you know.

You made me burn my toast.

Whatever...

What was the best day
of your life?

The day of your birth,
of course.

- And Maitou's.
- Oh, liar.

And Daddy?

It's not the same for men.

I'm stuck.
I don't feel like my characters.

What you read yesterday
was nice.

I'm floundering.

It's hard to work with your father
monopolizing your evenings.

I don't work nights
in Paris either.

What do you do then?
Go out?

Whenever I can. Every night.

A duck...

Miss...

- A small glass of white wine.
- That small?

- All right, like that.
- Okay.

Thank you, miss.

We're going to go very far.

Very far.

It's certainly impossible

to attribute to this nothingness,

this phase before the big bang,

a hypothetical structure.

I think that, at this point,
we enter the domain of philosophy.

Caroline had tried to write
her friend for 20 years now,

ever since she left England.

She wanted to send a letter
that read like the story of her life.

It would begin...

"Do you remember?"

But there was too much
to tell, to explain.

Dinah-Jane lived in a charming cottage
outside London...

with blond children
and a loving husband.

One day,
Caroline had visited her

and had burst into tears.

There are lives so different

that they wound you
with their simplicity.

Caro had never managed
to complete her letter.

The shots do you good,
don't they?

Look at the progress you've made.

You think so?

Don't get discouraged.

It's unlike you to be depressed.

It's rare that I show it.

You look snazzy.
Got a date?

Fred's taking me to Mai-Tai...

the hot jet-set club.

The place with
the phosphorescent palm trees?

Why don't you
come with us one night?

It wouldn't be nice for Daddy.

We talk most at night,
and I'm leaving soon.

When Bernard's away,
I have Martin,

and he's already
put his trip off twice.

What did the hospital tell you?

Nothing special. Why?

Listen... I've got to run,
but we should talk.

Let's talk now.
How long has he got?

It's hard to predict.

But you can.

Well, his organism
is very tired and...

How long?

Six months, one year,

at the most.

- It's smudged.
- Where?

There.

When will you have
your eye operation?

Let's change the subject.

I don't want to end up
with a blind mother.

Your last trip to Paris
was unbearable.

You hung onto me like a buoy.

It was really unbearable.

Wipe the lipstick
off of your teeth.

I'm taking Daddy to Cannes.

It's a nice day for an outing.
You should come.

No, you two go.

I get nervous in cars.

You sure?
It'd be good for you.

Yes, I'm sure.

I must visit Yvonne.
She's not well at the moment.

It's not too far?
He won't get tired?

I'll do the driving.

Don't worry.

In fact, he had suffered
more than ever these past days.

So he drank with Caroline

to reassure her,

to make the outing radiant
with happiness.

He was so used
to hiding his pain

behind the elegance and irony
of his manner,

that it had become second nature,

and when pressed
to talk about his health,

it was like being caught in a lie.

Only when showing her
a site from his childhood,

which had miraculously
escaped destruction,

did the stiffness of his demeanor

arouse Caroline's suspicions.

To put her off,

he began speaking more seriously,

not about his illness or fears,

but about his travels,

the countries he loved,
especially Lebanon...

that oasis of tolerance
and civilization...

now devastated by fanaticism.

You were praying on the sly.

Leave me with my faith.

You took him to Cannes
because you think he's dying.

Of course not.
That's crazy.

What did you tell Barbara
the other day?

Nothing special.

You can't fool me.

You two usually tell me everything.

Health-wise, he can go on
for another five, ten years...

Anyway, if anything happens to him...

I'll jump off a cliff.

You've been saying that
for 10 years.

You'll see.

You know what happens
to naughty kitties

who leap from cliffs?

Your Almighty sends them to hell.

He'll forgive. I made a pact.

Enough of these dark thoughts.

Stop!

Go to sleep.

Daddy always recovers,
you know that very well.

- We're too old now.
- To old for what?

We only poison your life.

Only your nonsense
poisons my life.

Mention the cliff again
and I leave for good, understand?

Now she shuts her eyes

and grows quiet.

She has such a need
of tenderness.

And all I give her
is a hard time.

Can you forgive me
for the hard times?

The blunders...

Chapi. Chapi. Come.

Martin, now I've got you,
little crab.

Go on, take your nap.

You said we could go
to the beach.

Yes, after.

You know how long you have to wait
before going swimming?

- Not at all.
- Two hours, for the digestion.

If not, you know what happens?

You sink.
Off for your nap.

What, dear?

In the newspaper?

Nothing.

Politics, politics, politics.

Where's Caroline?

She's getting cigarettes
for her trip.

- What?
- Cigarettes for the trip back.

What did you talk about
last night?

About my travels.

Our times at Cap d'Antibes...

Biarritz.

Nothing in particular.

It'll be sad without Caroline.

That...

I'll take up my bridge games.

My bridge game.

Oh, yes.

Are you well paid for scripts?

That depends on the producer.

You got some work done here?
- Yes.

Oh, that never...

I can never get it closed
the first time.

- You used to be happier.
- What do you mean?

You were always laughing.

I still laugh.

- Really?
- Sure.

You haven't been in love
with anyone since Bernard.

Not yet, no.

You'll go back to him.

And Phillipe?

Phillipe is just a friend.

That's funny.

I always imagined you
with a family life.

I'm not unhappy, you know.

Maybe.

Did you forget anything?

In any case, I'll be back soon.

You won't forget
to call Aunt Nicole?

No, I won't forget.

You want a last Coke?

- Do we have time?
- 10 minutes.

Three Cokes, then.

Already?

Hurry, the meter's running.

Don't forget...

give Martin a hug for me.

I promise.

It's Mama. I'm back.

Hello, Mama. It's Martin.

I'm staying over
at Jean-Phillipe's.

Saturday is open house at school.
I hope you come.

If not, I'm fed up.
Love you.

It's Sinap. We wonl

23-part miniseries.
The life of August Renoir.

In English. 23I

We'll have a good laugh.

Life's a turd sandwich
and I want to share it with you.

Bye-bye.

A few days later

a telegram arrived
from her mother

announcing her daddy's death.

There was a rail strike
and no planes before morning.

Caroline wandered about
the city... for a long time.

She had no strength to stop
or sit in a caf�.

She walked straight ahead,
oblivious,

her eyes wide open

as her father had suggested.

"The sweetness of life,
my darling, is terribly fragile. "

The sweetness of life.

He always talked about it,
but always in the past tense,

like happiness that had
slowly crumbled

and which he lost
along the way.

No doubt he'd have liked her
to help him pick up the pieces

and reconstruct it.

No doubt he'd have liked
to speak endlessly to her

until he confided his fears to her,

until she could comfort him.

But she had gone

and he lacked the strength
to wait for her return.

Tomorrow she'd confront
her mother's drawn face

at the bedside of an old,
young man of the interwar years.

And the weather would be lovely.

She'd open the shutters
and her mom would ask,

"What's the point now?"

To pretend to live

until our desire returns.