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CONTEMPT

Based on the novel
by Alberto Moravia.

Featuring Brigitte Bardot
and Michel Piccoli,

Jack Palance and Giorgia Moll,

And Fritz Lang.

Photography by Raoul Coutard.

Music by Georges Delerue.

Sound by William Sivel.

Editing by Agnès Guillemot.

Produced by
Philippe Dussart and Carlo Lastricati.

A film by Jean-Luc Godard.

Shot in Cinemascope
and printed in colour by GTC Labs.

Produced by Georges de Beauregard
and Carlo Ponti for Rome-Paris Films,

Films Concordia and Compagnia
Cinematografia Champion.

André Bazin said: "Cinema shows us
a world that fits our desires."

Contempt is the story of that world.

I don't know.

Maybe I'll go to Mum's.
I don't know what I'll do afterwards.

Come pick me up if you want.
At 4 o'clock. At Cinecittà.

I have to talk to that American.

Maybe I will.

- See my feet in the mirror?
- Yes.

- Think they're pretty?
- Very.

- You like my ankles?
- Yes.

And my knees, too?

Yes. I really like your knees.

And my thighs?

And your thighs.

Do you see my bottom in the mirror?

Yes.

Do you think I have nice buttocks?

Yes. Very.

- Shall I get on my knees?
- No.

- No need to.
- And my breasts. You like them?

- Yes, tremendously.
- Gently, Paul. Not so hard.

Sorry.

Which do you like better,
my breasts or my nipples?

I don't know. Both equally.

- And do you like my shoulders?
- Yes.

- I don't think they're round enough.
- I do.

And my arms?

And my face?

- And your face.
- All of it?

My mouth, my eyes,
my nose, my ears?

- Yes, everything.
- Then you love me totally.

I love you totally,
tenderly, tragically.

So do l, Paul.

Hi. How are you?
What's going on? The place is empty!

Jerry fired nearly everybody.
Italian cinema is in trouble.

- Where is he?
- Over there.

Only yesterday
there were kings here.

Princesses, lovers...

All human emotions.

Yesterday he sold everything.

They're going to build
a supermarket.

- It's the end of cinema.
- I don't think cinema will ever die.

He says you wrote Toto against
Hercules. It's doing well in New York.

Not bad.

Don't be modest,
You need pride to make good films.

- Do you know The Odyssey?
- Your film with Fritz Lang?

- It's not working out.
- Why did you hire Lang?

The Odyssey needs a German director
because a German discovered Troy.

What should I do?

He needs new scenes for The Odyssey,
not only more sex, but more...

Like all producers,
he doesn't know.

To know that one doesn't know
is the gift of a superior spirit.

Not to know and think that one knows
is a mistake.

To know it is a mistake
keeps one from making it.

I don't think Lang will accept.

In '33, Goebbels asked Lang to head the
German film industry. Lang left Germany.

This is not '33 and Mr. Prokosch
knows you'll do the job.

Why?

He'll tell you during the projection.
This way.

So... Why?

- Because you need money.
- How does he know?

He was told you have
a very beautiful wife.

Each film should have
a definite point of view.

It's the eternal problem
of the ancient Greeks.

It's a fight against the gods.
The fight of Ulysses.

This is Minerva, isn't it?

She's Ulysses' protector.

And that's Neptune,
his mortal enemy.

Mr. Prokosch likes gods.

He knows how they feel.

Look, that's Homer.

The gods did not create man,
man created gods.

It's a mermaid.

That's art,
but will the public understand?

- Who's that?
- Penelope.

Mr. Prokosch has a theory
about The Odyssey.

He thinks Ulysses' wife
was unfaithful.

O my brothers, who braved
100,000 perils to reach the West,

don't refuse to know, by following
the sun, the uninhabited world.

"Consider your origin.
You were not born to live as brutes,

but to pursue virtue and knowledge."

- Have you heard that before?
- Yes, it's very famous. Dante.

"Night then looked all the stars.

Ourjoy soon turned to tears

until the sea closed in on us."

- I'm Paul Javal. Mr. Prokosch...
- I know.

It looks swell.
I really like Cinemascope.

It wasn't made for people
but for snakes and funerals.

What's the matter, Miss Vanini?
Is it about the script?

He says it's not the same
on screen as on paper.

I'll just see if my wife's arrived.

...the Nazis used to say "revolver"
instead of "cheque book".

Are you going to accept the job?
Yes or no?

"But Man, when he must, can stand
fearless and alone before God.

His candour is his shield.
He needs neither arms nor wiles

until such time
as God's absence helps him."

- That's Hölderlin, isn't it?
-Yes. The Poet's Vocation.

The final line is obscure.
Hölderlin originally wrote...

- "So long as God is not present."
- And then...

"So long as God is close to us."

The way the last lines are written,
when you've read the other two,

is no longer about God's presence.

It's God's absence
that reassures Man.

Strange, but true.

How do you say "strange" in Italian?

I'll be back in five minutes.

Meet Mr. Prokosch.
Camille, my wife.

- My wife, Camille.
- How do you do?

- Fritz Lang.
- Hello.

He's the one who did
that western with Dietrich.

- It was terrific!
- I prefer M.

We just saw it on TV.
I really liked it.

Thank you. That's kind of you.

I love the scene
when Ferrer leans on the scales.

Thank you.
When l finish The Odyssey...

Mr. Prokosch is inviting you
for a drink.

I don't know.

- He says you know perfectly.
- Me?

Yes, I could have a drink.

Goodbye, I'll phone you.
Madam.

We'll go if you want.

Sit down, madam.

- You won't be comfortable...
- I'll meet you there.

- Mr. Prokosch will come back for you.
- No, I'll grab a taxi.

Let him go on ahead.
We can both take a cab.

Make up your mind.

Come on, you go.

What's the address?

- What did he say?
- My English is as bad as yours.

We've been waiting half an hour.
What kept you?

Nothing. l had an accident...

I was in the cab,
and at the corner of the street...

Two cars, you know...
The whole bumper was hanging off.

Then the two drivers
started shouting at each other.

- I needed another cab. That's why...
- That's why, what?

What? Why I'm late.
I had to walk God knows how long...

From Saint-Ange to Piazza Venezia
to find a cab.

Yeah, it took ages.

Anyway, l don't give a damn.
I'm not interested in your story.

It took me 20 minutes.

- You don't believe me.
- We'll discuss it later.

I'm going for a walk.

- Come tomorrow to sign the contract.
- All right.

Camille, why are you so quiet?

Friday we shoot in Capri.
Come with us.

Answer her.
Why don't you speak?

- What were you doing before I arrived?
- Nothing special.

Why? Did he come on to you?

- Why ask me that?
- Just because.

I should wash my hands.

- Where can I wash?
- Upstairs, on the right.

- What's the matter? You look down.
- Nothing.

Have you been crying?

- Your boss is a hard man.
- He is.

Known him long?

- What did he do before movies?
- I don't want to talk about it.

I was just asking.

It's stupid to be so sweet
and so sad.

Haven't you anything
more amusing to say?

More amusing?

A funny story.

Which one shall I tell?

I know, the one about
Sri Ramakrishna and his disciple.

Ramakrishna was a Hindu sage.

He had this disciple who didn't believe
in his master's teachings anymore.

He decided to study on his own.
So he went away.

After 15 years, he came back
and said: "I've found it!"

Found what?

He tells the sage: "I'll show you"
and takes him to the riverbank.

The disciple crosses back and forth
walking on the water.

And he says: "You see? I can cross
without getting wet, now I know."

So Ramakrishna replies:

"You fool! I did that 10 years ago
with a rupee and a rowboat!"

Feeling better now?
That's good.

- Paul.
- What?

- Call that washing your hands?
- As you can see.

- I was just telling her the joke...
- I believe you already.

You're being an idiot.

- Where can I pee?
- Up there.

It's a book about Roman paintings,
it will help you.

The Odyssey is in Greek.

He knows.

What? About what?

About the money and your wife.

Mr. Prokosch is inviting you
for dinner.

I'm tired, I'd rather leave.

Tell them we're leaving.

We're leaving then.

If you decide about Capri,
call tonight.

- We must get the villa ready.
- Paul will call you.

Why don't you come?

It's my husband who decides.

What interests you about The Odyssey?

I don't know yet.

Maybe because it's the opposite
of today's films which l hate.

I'd like to return to Griffith
and Chaplin.

Like in the days of United Artists.

The wise man does not oppress others
with his superiority.

He doesn't humiliate them
for their impotence.

He's crazy!
Did you see? He kicked me!

You change your mind fast.
Monday you thought he was terrific.

Now I think he's a jerk.
I have a right to change my mind.

What happened in the past hour?

Nothing. lf you're happy, so am l.

Rio Bravo is playing in town.

So is Nicholas Ray's Bigger Than Life.

I'm not interested.

- I wrote it.
- I know.

I phoned your mum's at lunchtime.
There was no answer.

We ate here.
I didn't feel like going out.

I like living here.
It's better than a hotel.

See? l was right.

What are they paying
for the script?

10,000 dollars. Six million lire.

We can finish paying off the flat.
Isn't that great?

Yes, it's great.

When will you call your friend
about the curtains? It's annoying me.

Once he's back from Spain.

Roberto said he'd be back on Friday.

Red velvet. lt's that or nothing.

Okay.

- Set the table while I take a bath?
- I wanted to take a bath, too.

You go first. I can do some work.

No, I'll go later, while it's cooking.

You're cooking fagioliniagain?

Yes, whether you like it or not.

- I can set the table.
- I was just doing it.

I bought myself something today.
Tell me what you think.

What did you buy?

What?

- Don't look yet.
- You want to go to Capri?

- What?
- You want us to go to Capri?

I won't say no,
but I won't say yes either.

It would be like a holiday.

- Anyway, he didn't invite me.
- What?

He invited you, not me.

Where did we put the mirror?

Not at all. We were both invited.

Look.

- Doesn't it suit me?
- No, I prefer you as a blonde.

And l prefer you
without a hat and cigar.

It's just to look like Dean Martin
in Some Came Running.

- What a laugh!
- What is?

You may want to look
like Dean Martin,

but it's more like Martin's ass.
- Who's that?

Never read the adventures
of Martin's ass?

One day he goes to Baghdad
to buy a flying carpet.

He finds this really nice one,

so he sits on it,
but it doesn't take off.

"Hardly surprising,"
says the carpet seller...

- Are you listening?
- Yes.

"The carpet won't take off
if you think about an ass."

So Martin says:
"Okay, I won't think of an ass."

But automatically he thinks of one,
so the carpet doesn't fly.

What's that got to do with me?

- That's my point exactly.
- Well, l don't get it.

Never mind.
Are you finished?

No need to change the water.
I didn't use soap.

You've been acting weird.
What's wrong?

Nothing. l knew you'd say that.

Is it about that girl?

It's nothing, l tell you.
I simply said you were an ass.

Not the same sound all over.

Why don't you want us
to go to Capri?

Because you're an ass.

You scare me, Paul.

And it's not the first time.

So answer
instead ofjust standing there.

Why did I marry a 28-year-old typist?

It's true. I'm sorry.

So am I.

You go to Capri if you want.
I don't feel like it.

Besides, I don't like
that Jeremy Prokosch. I told you.

Why? Did he do something to you?

Absolutely not.

Why so thoughtful?

Because I'm thinking,
believe it or not.

- Surprised?
- No. Why?

- An idea.
- Come with me. I won't go alone.

You've been acting funny
since we met that guy.

I'm not funny.

- Why would you say that?
- Just because.

We were fine this morning.
Now we're fighting over nothing.

- What's going on, baby?
- I want to have fun.

Nothing's going on, Paul.

I'm afraid I'll get bored there.

I'm not going.

Seen the house being built
across the way?

It's awful.

If you love me, just be quiet.

A husband has a right to know
why his wife's sulking.

- I'm sure it's about that girl.
- Drop dead!

Hello. Good afternoon.

No, Camille isn't here.

I thought you ate in town
and went shopping.

She just walked in the door!
Your mother.

I'll call you tomorrow. Ciao.

You're out of your mind!
Why did you tell her I was out?

- I don't know why.
- I know why.

To find out if she had lunch with me
and if I wasn't lying.

- That's it.
- Try that again and I'll divorce you.

- Get up!
- What are you doing?

I'm sleeping on the couch.

- When, tonight?
- Every night, starting tonight.

Don't be angry. I just can't sleep
with the window open.

We'll close the window.

You always say you can't breathe.
No, we'll sleep apart.

Thousands of couples do it.
They still get along fine.

What did l do wrong? Tell me.

I'm sorry I said you were out.
Is that it? Forgive me.

Let me by.

- Is that why you're in a bad mood?
- Yes, but not anymore.

I'll be just fine here.

I reallywonder what I did.

You're so mean all of a sudden.

Me? I'm the same as always.

You're the one who's changed.

Ever since you've been
with movie people.

You used to write crime novels.

We didn't have much money,
but everything was fine.

What's this?
"Partito Comunista ltaliano".

- You never said you joined.
- That was two months ago in Paris.

- Give me that.
- Let go! You'll bruise me.

I'm working for you.
This place is notjust for me!

Please, Paul,
I don't want to argue.

I don't want to go to Capri, either.

Why not? Don't be stupid. Go.

Paul, come here.

What?

No, I've lost interest.

When Prokosch calls,
tell him l won't talk to him.

Paul, come here.

Why won't you do the script now?

I'd have done it out of love for you.

But you don't love me anymore.

That's news!

"I had to judge a bottom contest
between three beautiful women.

They chose me as a judge.

They showed me
their dazzling nudity.

The first had a white and gentle
curved back with round dimples.

When the second parted her legs,
her snowy skin grew as red as a rose.

The third was as still as a quiet sea.

Her delicate skin rippled gently,
shivering involuntarily."

We'll just mortgage the flat
when we run out of money.

Something makes you think
I've stopped loving you?

Yes.

What?

Everything.

But what, for instance?

- First tell me if it's true.
- No, you tell me first.

What makes me think
you've stopped loving me?

The way you've been talking to me.

You weren't like that this morning.

Nor yesterday.

It's the way you look at me, too.

"The problem, in my opinion,
is in our conception of the world.

A positive view or a negative one.

Greek tragedy was negative
in that it made Man

a victim of Fate,
as embodied by the Gods,

and abandoned him
to a hopeless destiny."

Why do you say it's the open window?
There's something else.

I think so.

"Man can rebel against things
that are bad, false.

We must rebel when we're trapped
by circumstances, conventions.

But l don't think
murder is a solution.

Crimes of passion serve no purpose.

I love a woman,
she cheats on me, I kill her.

What's left for me?
I lost her love since she's dead.

If I kill her lover, she hates me,
and I still lose her love.

Killing is never a solution."

Look, Camille...

I give you my word,
I can't sleep with the window open.

I need silence and darkness.

I swear it's true.

And you move around too much.
You keep waking me.

I want to sleep alone from now on.

You don't want to make love?

Listen to this jerk.

Is that a mocking smile
or a tender smile?

A tender smile.

- So, answer me!
- If it were true, l'd tell you.

A woman can always find
an excuse not to make love.

- But you're really a jerk.
- Vulgar language doesn't suit you.

It doesn't suit me?

Listen to this...

Asshole. Cunt.

Shit.

Christ almighty.

Craphole.

Son of a bitch.

Goddamn.

So, still think
it doesn't suit me?

Why don't you want
to make love anymore?

All right. Let's do it, but fast.

I'd been thinking
Camille could leave me.

It was a possible disaster.
Now the disaster had happened.

We used to live
in a cloud of unawareness,

in delighted complicity.

Things happened with sudden,
wild, enchanted recklessness.

I'd end up in Paul's arms,
hardly aware of what had happened.

This recklessness was now absent
in Camille, and thus in me.

Could I now watch her coldly,
prey to my excited senses,

as she could undoubtedly observe me?

I deliberately made that remark
with a secret feeling of revenge.

She seemed aware
that a lie could settle everything.

For a while, on the surface at least.
She was clearly tempted to lie.

But she thought better of it.

Paul hurt me so much.

It was my turn now,
alluding to what I'd seen,

without really being specific.

But I was wrong. She wasn't unfaithful,
or at least not obviously so.

The truth remained concealed.
We needed to dig deeper.

I've noticed that the more we doubt,
the more we cling to a false lucidity,

in the hope of rationalizing
what feelings made murky and obscure.

I thought Camille might leave me.

It was a possible disaster.
Now the disaster had happened.

We used to live in a cloud of
unawareness, in delicious complicity.

Don't be like that.

- Don't be like what?
- You know very well.

It's your fault!

You seem to be searching
my expression

to decide the appropriate attitude.

"The private plane awaited
in the blue sky.

Rex noticed something about Paula
that he knew already, her face...

Her harmonious face,
now indecisive, seemed contorted.

Rex knew this trait of hers,
for it seemed that whenever Paula...

Whenever Paula
had to make a decision...

that went against her nature..."

What's got into you?
I love you exactly as before.

What would you do
if I stopped loving you?

- I already told you.
- I forgot what you said.

I wouldn't do the script
and we'd sell the flat.

But l love you.
I find this all so idiotic.

When Prokosch calls,
tell him you'll go to Capri.

- What about you?
- I love you. Don't make me repeat it.

I want to keep the flat.

If you don't want to do the script,
don't do it.

If you think l've stopped loving you,
you're wrong.

Kiss me.

We were just talking about you.

About your movie.

Yes,The Odyssey.
About that guy who travels.

In Capri,
can we go swimming?

I don't know.

Here's Paul. I'll put him on.

Mr. Prokosch? Yes.

No.

We're eating out?

I don't feel like
going out for groceries.

Fine. We're to meet Prokosch
and Lang at a cinema.

They want to see a singer
in the stage show. We can eat after.

It'll be late if there's a movie first.

It might give me some ideas.

Why not look for ideas in your head,
instead of stealing them?

- What's got into you?
- Let's get going!

I knew it. Since l said yes
to Prokosch, it's no more tenderness!

Right, no more caresses.
What was the phone call about?

- Our going to Capri.
- What did you say?

- That it was up to you.
- Are you nuts?

You know that it's up to you, not me!

- Then come to Capri.
- No.

Is there something
between you and Prokosch?

You're pathetic.

- Sit down. I have to talk to you.
- What about the cinema?

Camille, I need to talk to you.

All right, I'm listening.

I need... to talk to you.

Earlier, before the phone rang,

I said I didn't want to take this job
if I couldn't be sure of your love.

You said you loved me
and that I should take it.

Yes.

I'm sure you lied.

Why? I don't know.
Out of pity, self-interest...

- What self-interest?
- You holding on to this flat.

How can you know what I think?

In fact, I couldn't care less.
You can sell the flat, I don't care.

You said it was better than a hotel.

Not at all.
I said that to make you happy.

That's beside the point.
I want to know why you lied earlier.

Who said I lied? Stop it!

You did. You've stopped loving me.

What good will
knowing the truth do you?

See? You admit I'm right.

I'm not admitting anything.
Leave me alone.

It's true. I don't love you anymore.

There's nothing to explain.
I don't love you.

Why? Yesterday you still loved me.

Yes, very much.

Now it's over.

- There must be a reason.
- Yes, there must be.

What is it?

I don't know. All l know is
I don't love you anymore.

Since we were at Prokosch's?

When you saw me pat
Francesca Vanini's bottom?

Let's say it was that.
It's over now. Let's drop the subject.

Something's happened
since this morning.

It changed your mind about me,
and therefore, your love for me.

- You're nuts, but you're clever.
- Then it's true.

I didn't say that.
I said you're clever.

Was it something I said or did today
that you took the wrong way?

Maybe.

Don't talk to me like that!
I won't allow it!

Camille!

I despise you! That's what I feel.

That's why the love's gone.

And you disgust me when you touch me.

Wait for me. Don't be so dramatic.

Forget what I said, Paul.
Pretend nothing happened.

Good evening.

- Are you going to Capri, too?
- Maybe.

Are you okay?

Mr. Prokosch re-read Homer.

He found something
he had long been searching for.

Something as indispensable
to the movies as to real life.

Poetry.

- You remember...
- Oh, yes.

They say Ulysses came home
to Penelope,

but maybe Ulysses had been
fed up with Penelope.

So he went off to the Trojan war, and
since he didn't feel like going home,

he kept travelling as long as he could.

Do you think it was
an idea of his or...?

- Why do you despise me?
- Leave me alone!

Coming to Capri with us, Mr. Lang?

"Each morning, to earn my bread
I go to the market where lies are sold

and, full of hope, I line up
alongside the other vendors."

- What's that?
- Hollywood.

From a ballad by poor B.B.

- Bertolt Brecht?
- Yes.

Homer's world is a real world.

And the poet belonged to a civilization

that grew in harmony,
not in opposition, with nature.

And the beauty of The Odyssey

lies precisely in this belief
in reality as it is.

Thus in reality
as it appears objectively.

Exactly. And in a form
that cannot be broken down.

And is what it is.
Take it or leave it.

I shut up because I have nothing to say.

I'm not sure about going to Capri.
Where would we stay?

In Mr. Prokosch's villa.

- With your husband.
- And Mr. Lang too?

That's up to him.

Producers are something
I can easily do without.

- Madam.
- Goodnight.

If you don't want to come,
I'm not forcing you.

It's not you that's forcing me.
It's life.

What are you doing?

- What are you doing?
- Looking.

Don't stay by yourself. Join us.

- What were you talking about?
-The Odyssey.

- I agree with Prokosch's theory.
- What theory's that?

That Ulysses loves his wife,
but she doesn't love him.

Do you really think that?
I'm sure you don't.

- Please, you're in the frame.
- Places, everyone!

Are they going to strip off?
Marvellous business this!

You show women in dresses a camera,
and hey presto! They strip off!

Come with us, madam,
leave them here to talk.

No, I'll walk back later
with my husband.

He says you spend all day
with your husband.

Do you mind if you wife comes with us?

Not at all. Go on, Camille.
Go on.

I don't mind, go on.

I'll walk back with Mr. Lang
to discuss The Odyssey.

The girls are in the water, Mr Lang.

I should have done a scene
at the beginning

in which the gods
discuss man's fate, in general,

and the fate of Ulysses in particular.

A producer
can be a friend to a director.

But Prokosch isn't a real producer.
He's a dictator.

I think it's stupid to change
the character of Ulysses.

He's not a modern-day neurotic,

but a simple, clever and robust man.

I find his idea interesting.

It takes Ulysses
ten years to return home

because he doesn't really
want to return. It's logical.

It's logical, and the illogical
borrows from the logical.

Your Corneille said it
in his preface to Suréna.

Ulysses doesn't rush home to Ithaca

because he was unhappy
with Penelope,

but the trouble started
before he went off to war.

He never would've left
if he'd been happy.

The Trojan war was his excuse
to get away from her.

But he killed her suitors, didn't he?

That can be justified
by the fact that, at first,

Ulysses had told Penelope
to accept their gifts.

He didn't see the suitors
as serious rivals,

and didn't want to cause a scandal
by throwing them out.

Knowing Penelope to be faithful,
he told her to be nice to the suitors.

I think that's when Penelope,
who is a simple woman at heart,

began to despise him.

She found she'd stopped loving
Ulysses because of his behaviour,

and she told him so.

Ulysses then realized too late
he'd lost Penelope's love

because he'd been overly cautious.

The only way to win her back
was to murder the suitors.

Death is no resolution.

Camille!

- What a lovely yellow.
- Thanks.

I found this on the boat.

Children shouldn't play with firearms.

Drink?

I was there, outside. Nothing.

I decided not to write
the script you asked me.

Why?

Can l be frank?

Of course.

I'm a playwright.
Not a screenwriter.

Even if it's a fine script...
I'm only doing it for the money!

That's why I'm in a bad mood.

We all have an ideal.
Mine's writing plays. l can't. Why?

In today's world,
we have to accept what others want.

Why does money matter so much
in what we do,

in what we are, in what we become?

Even in our relationships
with those we love.

He is right.

We either do Homer's Odyssey
or we do nothing!

Mr. Prokosch already said it,
you're wrong.

You aspire to a world like Homer's.

You want it to exist,
but unfortunately it doesn't.

Why doesn't it?

You may be right,

but when it comes to making movies,
dreams aren't enough.

When do we eat?

- In an hour.
- Right. I'm going for a walk.

Mr. Prokosch wants to speak with you.

- Is that an order or a request?
- A request.

One must suffer.

That's for sure.

Camille!

It's me, Paul.

Looking at you just now,
felt like the first time l'd seen you.

- Mind if I stay?
- Stay if you like.

Why didn't you speak up earlier?

I don't get you! You always said
you loved that script.

Now you tell the producer it's for the
money, that your ideal is the theatre.

He's no fool.
Next time, he won't be asking you.

How can you not understand
something so simple?

- I bet you'll do it anyway.
- No.

Yes, you'll see. l know you.

I know you.

If I do it, it's for you.
To pay for the flat.

I'll let you decide
whether I do the script or not.

If you say no, we'll leave.

- You're so cunning!
- Not at all. Why?

- If you regret it, you can blame me.
- Not at all! I'm asking you to decide.

You want me to tell you what to do?

- Yes.
- Then do the script!

You signed a contract,
and you're boring me.

- I saw him kiss you earlier.
- I know you did.

- Why don't you love me anymore?
- That's life.

Why do you despise me?

I'll never tell you,
not even if I were dying.

- Tell me or I'll hurt you.
- Why hurt me more?

I have to know why you despise me.

It's crazy! I don't see why
you expect me to accept, anyway.

We need the money for the flat.
I don't want to go back to typing.

I can't accept that after what happened.
Obviously you do despise me.

You knew we kissed and you were
still ready to change your mind.

I turned the job down for you.
So you'd change your mind about me.

Don't touch me.
I don't love you anymore.

There's no way
I'll ever love you again.

Even if I turn it down,
you'll despise me?

- Yes, I will.
- Why? There must be a reason.

- You're the reason.
- What do you mean, me?

I don't know. You're not a man.

Anyhow, it's too late.
I've changed my mind about you.

I know why you despise me.
The other day, when I took a taxi,

you thought I wanted you
to go in his car with him.

And again on the boat earlier.
Don't be stupid!

I have faults, but that's not one.

I'll never forgive you.
I loved you so much.

Now it's impossible. I hate you
because you can't make me feel.

I can! You're almost in tears.

We're leaving! We'll pack up and go.

I'm staying. You go if you like.

Come on, Camille!

- No.
- Then l'm staying, too.

- But Prokosch will throw us out.
- Don't start again.

Dear Paul, I found your revolver
and took the bullets out.

If you won't leave, I will.

Jeremy Prokosch has to return to Rome,
so I'll get a lift with him.

Then I'll probably move
into a hotel alone.

Take care. Farewell. Camille.

What are you going to do in Rome?

Typist.

Me? No.

Typist.

What... do you think... of me?

Get into your Alfa, Romeo.
We'll see about that later.

TAKE CARE

FAREWELL

Nathalie,
I'm leaving for Rome tonight.

Good-bye, then.

Mr. Lang,
I've come to say good-bye.

Good-bye. What will you do?

Go back to Rome, finish my play.

- And you?
- I'll finish the film.

One should always finish
what one starts.

What shot are you doing?

Ulysses' gaze when he first sees
his homeland again.

Ithaca.

- Good-bye, Mr. Lang.
- Bye. l hope we'll meet again.

We're ready, Mr. Lang.

Quiet on the set!

Camera!

Silence!