All language subtitles for La francaise et l.amour

In the beginning, it was chaos,

then, the story of men began.

A beginning that is rather
fishy,

then came the day by an obscure
need to complicate his life,

men invented numbers.

Mathematical sciences
led to everything,

providing you can
get out of it.

That is why Christopher
Columbus discovered America.

Since one is always punished
for his bad deeds,

America, in revenge,
discovered statistics.

Statistics,

what is it?

Mr. Larousse has given
the straight definition:

"Statistics is a science that
methodically gathers facts...

for the purpose of numerical
"evaluation."

It seems to be the case
for all facts.

Cabbage, toys, pebbles,
owls, they're all included.

In the same fashion,
a baby is born.

The portrait of his father.

According to statistics, who
was waiting to dress him,

says he has a 49% chance
of being a male...

49% chance of being a female,

and 2% chance of
being... hesitant.

For censure purposes,

we'll avoid this
particular subject...

to address that of
the boy and the girl.

But who is interested
in the boy? Nobody.

We're left with the girl,
the woman to be.

Which angle will we analyze?

The only one that is
won'th being analyzed,

the only one to be eternal,

that of love.

That is why we're presenting
you...

LOVE AND THE FRENCH WOMAN

CHILDWOOD

Subtitles downloaded from www.OpenSubtitles.org

ADOLESCENCE

PURITY

MARRIAGE

ADULTERY

DIVORCE

THE SINGLE WOMAN

Love and the French woman.

A nice title,

for a broad problem.

Which French woman to choose,
among 25 million.

The youthful grace of P�n�.

The generous proportions
of Dubout?

The dynamic maturity
of Faisan?

The rebellious mischievousness
of Eiffen?

Well, no.

None of these French women,

but one who summarizes all,
the middle-class French woman.

Charming creature, 5'7",
from head to toe.

24" of waist,

33" of breast line,

33" of hip line.

You think that her measurements
are not yours?

Possible.

Those were not yours,

but thanks to you,
that's the statistics.

As a matter of fact,

recent statistics are
as supple as youth.

No, you shouldn't
stare at people.

You shouldn't.

- Yes!
- No!

Do your homework first.

Hello, everyone.

- Hello, Mrs. Basouche.
- Hello, Mrs. Tronche.

I am going to buy some salt.
I've forgotten again.

If my boyfriend comes before me,
please give him the key.

- Of course.
- Thank you.

How are babies born?

Why do you want to know?

Wort you finish your homework?

- We'll have to think about it.
- To what?

- To Gisele.
- To Gisele?

Why should I think about her?
I don't get it.

Did you hear her question?

She's puzzled.

We'll have to explain it
to her. That's her age.

Age? Gisele?

Tell me, Daddy,

where are babies from?

Will you stop it?

I am reading a very serious
article.

Me, I know.

What do you know?

Babies come from
the mothers' bellies.

Will you stop it, poor child!

What have you invented?

Who taught you that?

Go play outside.
I need the table.

You see? If you don't explain it
to her, someone will.

Then she'll develop hang-ups.

What can I tell her?
All she has to do is observe.

Observe what? Crooked man!

What are they teaching her at
school?

I am the one to do the math
homework.

Mrs. Basouche?

- My boyfriend didn't come home?
- I didn't see him.

- Here's your key.
- Thank you.

Come in for a moment.

I wanted to consult you
regarding...

babies, where they come from...

How did you learn?

- How?
- Yes.

Coming from a policeman,
this is a funny question.

It's about Gisele. She seems
to be concerned.

She wants to know.

I have to tell her something.

How did you find out?

Babies? When I had my first.

Your first?

By the second, I knew it all.

- But before?
- Before?

- It wasrt very important.
- I see.

- Come to think about it.
- Yes.

That's not true! Those are
parents' lies!

I've seen babies in people's
bellies.

You want to bet?

Little rascal! I'll tell
your parents.

You're right in a way.

Sir?

- I need information.
- Hello, teacher.

Ladies, my homework to you.

I hope you'll find no mistake
in them.

That's very slick of you, sir.

One must joke every
once in a while.

So, M. Basouche.

My modest lights are all ears.

Gisele asked me, "How are
babies born?"

What should I say?

The truth.

Really?

He's right.

Give a scientific explanation,
a clear perspective.

Scientific, I'll agree.

I don't know where to start.

Start at the beginning.

Where is the beginning?

Wait! Let's pretend.

I am Gisele.

And you, my father.

With all due respect,

I presume we don't have
children?

I ask you, "Daddy,
where are babies from?"

What is your answer?

I will tell you,
"My little Gisele..."

Your uniform is rather
intimidating.

I feel good in it.
What do you want me to do?

Gisele's beret.

And her bag.

Is that good?

This is pure comedy.

Tonight, we're improvising.

So, I'll tell you, my little
Gisele,

Yes, Daddy.

Nature is very mysterious.

I'll agree. How would you
explain that on Mondays,

the fish is never quite good.

Didrt you notice?

Mysteries, which in fact, are a
phenomenon. Do you understand?

Yes, Daddy.

My darling - it's funny-

the most wonderful, yet the most
natural thing...

is the reproduction system.

- I won't tell her that.
- Why not?

She'll mock me.

It's either you want to
give her scientific facts,

or stories from old maids.

Scientific, Eugene,
we'll do what's necessary.

He's right.

So, one day,

the man goes to the woman.

This is disgusting.

One would think you're talking
about a bull.

The man is the bull.

Mr. Dufieu.

You want me to tell those bull
stories to my daughter?

Come on.

It's quite a discussion you have
going!

Ms. Lulu,

taking a walk?

Yes, as usual.

You're coming at the right time.

What can I tell to my little
girl on babies birth?

What's your opinion as a ball
player?

I was told that they were found
in strawberry fields.

I liked it.

Strawberry fields?

That's what they used to say,
back home.

- Where?
- At Plougastel.

I should have known.

The bagpipes and all...

If you prefer the scientific
facts, according to Plougastel,

It's your choice, Mr. Basouche.

It's your choice.

What do you have to say against
Plougastel?

Where are you from, anyway?

What's the interest?

Go ahead. Say it.

From Aveyron.

Aveyron. Gossip land.

Gossip?

Is that what you're saying?

She said it, and you let her?

Well, that's good. Good.

So, go about helping
one another,

that's it for me.

He doesn't seem happy.

Hello, Basouche.

Any letters?

What's going on?

We were talking about sexual
initiation.

Interesting.

Mr. Basouche was gathering
information.

He's still not informed?

But, Mrs. Basouche,

It's concerning
our little Gisele.

She's asking questions to
her father.

Our friend Basouche
is embarrassed?

Basouche, how about
the butterflies?

The butterflies?

The butterflies.

You seem not to understand.

Tell Gisele, "Look at the
butterflies,

see how they do."

How do they do?

Like men.

- The butterflies?
- Certainly.

That's what I did for my son.

I was taking a walk in the woods
of Vincennes,

I love the woods of Vincennes,

we were deep into the forest,

I love the forest,

what do I see?

A couple, entangled, doing
what you must imagine.

Some people have no respect!

I told my son,

look at the butterflies.
It's exactly the same thing.

He understood perfectly.
The proof?

Three months later,
our maid was pregnant.

For him?

- How old was he?
- Who?

Your son.

Between 22 and 23.

So?

The cabbage, Eugene.
That's the only solution.

That's what I was told.

And I remained an honest woman.

- Lf you think so...
- Yes.

Go get her.

Come, Gisele.

Not you, Jaja, you're not
old enough.

Come, my little angel.

Here.

Listen to me.

You know what a cabbage is?

- Cabbage.
- Yes.

Well,

babies...

Are you listening?

Babies come from cabbage.

And cabbages are harvested
in autumn,

when the soil is wet and
all the snails are out.

Wait!

- What is it?
- You've dropped a baby.

- A what?
- A baby!

It seems that they hit a child.

- A child?
- Maniac!

Let's find out.

I didn't see a child!

There! On the street.

What horsepower is your jalopy?

What?

What horsepower is your jalopy?

In there, there's probably
a baby.

You shouldn't let it hang about
the streets.

In the cabbage? A baby?

Is that a joke?
We are in a rush!

Giles, some respect for
childhood.

Thank you.

We could have lost it.

He's going to be scared.

Come.

I know it's not true. Babies
come from people's bellies!

I'll teach you! Little rascal!

Come, let's go.

You see, Jaja, you should
never tell lies.

I am not lying. You're crazy!

Goodbye, my jewel.

Goodbye, my love.

See you tomorrow, my little
cabbage.

- You'll get her pregnant.
- Excuse me?

I said you'll get her pregnant.

I know it's not true!

You're going to get it!

I won't let them
insult you! Just wait.

- It's you. It's your fault.
- Mr. Victor!

What is it?

Your daughter just insulted us.

She made some salacious remarks.

Salacious?

Impossible! I don't know
what it means.

Neither do I.

I was there with Angele, and
your daughter said,

"You'll get her pregnant."

Me!

My daughter Gisele?

I am sure she did not learn
that by herself.

She heard it.

And from whom, please?

I sometimes visit Angele when
her parents are not there.

It's not your affair!

The impatience of the heart!
Have you heard about that?

Mr. Victor, watch your mouth!

How about tenants crisis?

Excuse me!

Mrs. Basouche has made her
little comments

in front of her daughter.

Arert you ashamed?

- I bribed you.
- Please, Mr. Victor.

He bribed you?

Mr. Victor, I swear
that I never...

You mean those are her ideas.
She has quite a future!

Did you do anything... daring?

On my scooter?

I am not an acrobat.

I was 10 feet away.

Why would I do that?

I was there, nicely, I said,
"Goodbye, my jewel.

Goodbye, my little cabbage."

- That's it.
- What?

"My little cabbage"

- What little cabbage?
- You just mentioned it.

I was talking about Angele.

But you said, "Goodbye,
my little cabbage."

That's it. The cabbage.

- One can't say that?
- No.

- Is it forbidden?
- Yes.

- Is there a rule against it?
- Yes.

You chatterbox!

Eugene, we'll have to find
something else.

We'll have to find something
else, but what?

The complicity of the adults
in confusing the children...

creates a chaotic
imagination...

where flora and wildlife are
present.

When finally we decide to tell
the truth,

the children are old enough
to make their own discoveries,

thus, the unveiling of new
problems, to which parents...

will have to find
other answers.

If the young girls
you see here...

Ioosening their joints,

don't know very well
how babies are born,

there's always one who is doing
her adolescence internship.

This deep change of the soul,

that would make a boy buy
an an electric razor...

is shown, in the girl, by
the abrupt change in clothing.

Women are like that.

They manage to stack logic,
metaphysics, psychoanalysis

in the smallest of closets.

A pair of nylons, and baby says
goodbye to the ungrateful age.

There are, however,
some poor fellows,

who'll be caught off their
guards,

by this transformation.

It concerns you.

Instead of watching sales tax
stability,

you'd be better off watching
youth instability.

Are you not the father?

They're all the same.

What thrills them about
their new radio

are the buttons.

The voice of wisdom is
strangled to titillation.

Do you know the time?

It was 6:15, 10 minutes ago.

Bichette hasn't come home yet.

She's probably with a friend.

I admire your calm, but
I am worried.

You see accidents everywhere.

Your daughter is 5 minutes late,
you imagine her under a scooter.

Not necessarily under,
but on top.

Neither under, nor on.

But not far.

The studious Bichette
has discovered math.

And Jack, a life saver,
has Einsteirs eyes,

with curly hair.

The root of an equation,
is the value of the unknown...

for which the equation
becomes...

A numerical identity.

For now, all that is very good.

If only the street
will leave them alone.

The street, that sex maniac,

that exhibitionist.

The street, where orgies are
rotating in color,

when it's not with 24 images
per second...

in dark movie theaters,

Mr. The secretary of state,
will forgive us,

but even fine arts
have a role to play.

At Bichette's age,

curiosity is driven
at the highest speed.

After all, we're not of stone,
and the bad examples...

are always the best ones.

Watching others kissing fills
us with that universal...

tenderness.

You, of course, are not
interested,

at least, not yet.

Do you hear me?

You're home!

It's been a while.

Why are you rubbing your mouth?

I have ink spots.

Edouard, that's it.

I was just telling him.

I must inform you that your
daughter just kissed someone.

Who?

A boy, of course.

My God, it's crazy.

My Bichette?

I am afraid she is
no longer yours.

I just caught her rubbing
her lips.

Maybe she simply...

I remember something similar,
and I gave the same answer.

From that age on,
it's never ink.

At her age, you were kissing
boys. Congratulations.

- It's about your daughter.
- Stop it!

You won't shut me and hide from
the voice of your conscience...

at the turn of a button.

We'll have to take action.

There are two solutions.

As always.

- The hard way.
- Or be on her side.

Never! Bend in front of a child?

Out of the question.

To begin with, we'll suppress
all parties, etc.

We've seen cheaters before.

I am sorry, but your mother
has decided...

that I should
watch you closely.

Why?

Go ask her.

In fact, you could discuss that
on Sunday. You'll stay with us.

The result?

I am going to be confined
at home,

medieval times are back.

Forget about going dancing
on Sunday.

I won't see you anymore?

Yes, all you have to do is
kidnap me.

Kidnap you?

You don't want to?

Sure.

You are afraid?

No.

Swear that you will and kiss me.

I swear.

When you're not born
to be a Spartan-father,

there are some difficult
moments to overcome.

The role of the naive father
has more charm,

and is more practical.

My Bichette.

I am asking for your candor,
your loyalty.

Can we trust you?

You have a blackhead.

Leave my ear alone.

- Are you mad at me?
- No. I am serious.

If I let you go to that dance,
will you behave?

You promise?

You have reasoned with her.

You're happy about yourself.

Fairly, yes.

Let's see the results.

Come and help me.

What's going on?

They're looking for a war,
they got it.

If they are trainers,
that won't work with me.

You have a lot of guts.

- You like that?
- Very much.

So, kiss me.

Here we go,

the advantage of having
parents is to be against them.

The perfect attitude would be
easy-going, without being soft.

To be good and yet not stupid.

Very good.

Concerning this dance,

I've made up my mind.
Would you like to know?

Since you made your decision
already.

You found no other solution,
but to let her go.

I just found a better solution.
We'll go with her.

Watch without her knowing.
That's a good method.

What are you thinking about,
dear lady?

To your father, maybe?

When I see that,
I have some regrets.

We could have trusted her more.

Be careful, my father's looking.

She's nothing like this little
hooker.

She's not even 15.

"Time, stop your trip.

"Hour, stop your course.

"Let us enjoy the beauty

of the greatest of our days."

It's beautiful.

You have to be fair,
there are some dumbbells.

She probably has all sorts
of hang ups, poor thing.

What's good about that lipstick,
it doesn't smear.

I wonder if the example
is not the best teacher.

That's probably why Bichette
behaves so well.

We set the good example.

Not because she's our kid,
but look at her.

It is reassuring.

What's reassuring is that she
never dances with the same boy.

Believe me.

Forgive me, Edouard. I'll steal
Lucienne for a minute.

Womers talk.

Lucienne, we mothers
have to help each other.

Your daughter flirts
a little too much.

How?

It's simple. She kisses
the boys on the lips.

What are you saying?

How do you know?

My son told me.

That always happens that way.

The girls kiss and the boys
brag about it.

Later, the adults
will not change.

Listen, I am your mother,
you have to tell me.

The boys you kiss,
do they mean something to you?

You like them?

No.

You must feel something.

No.

- So you just kiss them?
- Yes.

Cold-bloodedly?

Yes, no, just like
that, for fun.

For fun?

It's not possible.

Listen to me, darling,

I understand life.
I was your age.

I must admit that some nights,

on a terrace, with soft music,

the ocean near,

you feel dizzy.

You think you love the one
that holds you.

You might give him your lips.

Kissing can be justified
by tenderness.

- Do you understand?
- Yes, I do.

You'll have to behave
differently with these boys.

Yes, mom.

Now, I'll try to love them.

Let's not be scared of words.
My daughter behaves...

like a little whore.

I am the father of a little
whore.

Let's not exaggerate. I almost
regret I told you.

This is a disarming age.

We should not make the mistake
of trying to understand...

using our logic.

Would you explain to me
why she's behaving like...

the others.

You just said it.

They like to do like the others.

There are other things
as well, such as,

being in style, competition,
very strong at this age.

Conformist as well. The one who
feels she has to kiss a boy...

because it's a thing to do,

thus the duty-kiss.

Let's not forget,
the kiss-record.

- How many?
- 26! I beat you!

You will not compare Alairs
kisses that last one second...

to that of Rene
that last 15 minutes.

With all that, a little
narcissism.

We discover and love ourselves.

You seemed to remember your
first kiss the other day.

Did you feel anything?

Feel anything? No.

It gave me confidence.

Self-confidence.

I had freckles,
and some pimples.

I thought I was ugly.

I had a feeling of success.

I noted it in my diary.

Ah, we had forgotten that one.
The diary.

They always have to write
what's in their hearts.

"Wednesday, I met him
near the fountain.

"He smiled at me,
like the day before.

"I am sure to love this one.

He has the eyes of Becaud."

...The line that joins the
middle...

It was you. You frightened me.

He gave it to me this morning.

Let me see.

Diary, letters, pictures,
records,

all these accessories
of first love.

They'd like us to believe
that those little rats...

are sentimental.

Of course.

That's right.

The impulses of the heart
in the youth's imagination

can reach enormous proportions,
with the help of movies.

What are they dreaming of, the
little French girls of 1960?

To the splendor of Her Majesty.

That's what the heirs of '89
are thinking about.

When they are in love, they're
not dreaming of the Queen,

but the Prince.

The Prince Charming.

The statistics are set.

38.5% of the French female
adolescents...

are dreaming of
the Prince Charming.

Of course, the Prince Charming
may have numerous facets...

with one common base:
The uniform.

Civilians are admitted
if they drive 120 mph.

Mass production cars
are not allowed.

Insensibly, the charm
champion is made.

The sports slang,
mixed with romance,

the Bichettes will fall for
a small wonder, Dean-style,

of a black lightning
Tony Syler style,

or a mountain angel,
Charlie Goal-style.

Essentially, the Prince
has to wear the yellow T-shirt.

He's the champion
in everything,

in competition with
Oppeneimer, as well as...

Mr. Muscles,

or the Jockey club president.

ARTISTS ENTRANCE

In brief, the Prince Charming,
is above all, the star.

Yet, if the Prince Charming
was to become a man.

A man. A real one.

Help!

Well, yes. The man is above all
a fierce adversary.

The adolescent is looking for
a reassuring image of love.

"The most beautiful

"Of love

Dreams."

An idealized image,
even sublime.

When they're not falling in love
with their confessors,

they're falling
for their teachers.

Algebra Exam

First, Bichette Martin.

In fact, they're crazy.

Were you like that?

In love with Tony Syler
and Charlie Goal?

For me, it was Haley and Magne.

I am living among mythomaniacs
and obsessed people.

You didn't understand,
my poor Edward.

Bichette is living the age
of innocent dreams...

and shy modesty.

Bichette, shy?

She spends her time rolling her
hips and shaping her breast...

which she doesn't have.

That's not the point.

That's being provocative.

At her age, I used to stuff
my bras with cotton.

Well, we're proud of our bodies,
but yet it frightens us.

Michelle, please
remove that slip.

I am fine like that.

Come on.

They're all the same.

I don't understand my mom,

you think its OKthat I show
my body to this guy...

just because he's a doctor?

- The panties, too?
- Of course.

Mom is astounding.

I am forbidden to wear
a low cut shirt,

but yet she wants me to undress
in front of a stranger.

The age, despite of all obvious
contradictions.

Isn't it the same Bichette...

the following summer...

Well, is it Bichette?

Ms. Bichette.

- Hello, Doctor.
- Hello, Ms. Bichette.

I was looking for someone
to offer me a gin and tonic.

Living nude is fun,
but it's dehydrating.

Those fevers, do you
still get them?

Bichette is moving.

With that pace, we will soon
be leaving the ungrateful age.

When the ungratefulness fades,
altruism appears.

These young ladies will
discover they're not alone,

thus, will create games, where,
unlike music and reading,

a partner is necessary.

Follow me, young man.

This new guest
is called love.

A couple is born.

No, no. That's all you can say.

If you find me so repugnant,
we shouldn't continue.

I don't find you
repugnant at all.

On the contrary,

you should see your face
when I try to touch you.

You, too.

I don't understand.

You, too. You have a funny face
when that occurs.

As if that was the only thing
that matters to you.

As a matter of fact, that's
true.

After all, I am a man.
I love you.

I've been with you for a year.
I "respected" you!

Don't be so loud. I am not deaf.

I've had it!

You have no reason to refuse.

Are we getting married or not?

- Yes.
- So?

You don't trust me?

Of course.

You're afraid that
I'll leave you after?

That's not the reason.

Then, what is it?

I don't know.

It is a very important thing.

I don't want to make any mistake
before I marry.

Mistakes. You're just stupid.

When I take a mistress,
you'll tell me about it.

You'll take a mistress?

Believe me, there are plenty
of pretty girls at the plant.

Don't stand on ceremony,
go ahead.

If you're going to use that
tone, I will.

Well, it's 11:30.
I have to go. Bye.

You don't kiss me?

I don't feel like it.

Will you call me tomorrow
at work?

I can't sleep because
of your father.

His snoring is frightening.

Did you have fun?

Yes.

- We went dancing.
- Do it while you can.

The engagement period is
the most beautiful one.

Wait until you get married.

It's not tomorrow that
we'll get married.

With the little he makes,
he has to care for his mother.

You should see the atmosphere
at his house.

It's not a party.

Thank God you're there
to entertain him.

Exactly... I don't
entertain him enough.

What do you mean?

Nothing.

Your fianc� has
propositioned you?

Has he asked you to be his
mistress?

He asked nothing.

You know, Fran�ois, he'd never
propose such thing.

Mom!

That's it. Your father is awake.

Good night, darling.

- I am not rubbing too hard?
- No.

It's very pleasant.

So, Mr. Masoni, as usual?
Not too short on the sides?

Exactly.

Ginette, prepare for
the rinsing.

- Not too much blue.
- Yes, Sir.

Who? Ms. Ginette?

Ms. Ginette is busy, Sir.

I am sorry.

Fran�ois?

Wait a minute.

Are you OK?

Yes. And you?

I am fine.

Can we see each other tonight?

Yes, maybe.

8:00, at the usual place.

Yes, very good.

See you tonight.

- He called you, didn't he?
- Yes.

- You're seeing him tonight?
- Yes.

So, what have you decided?

I haven't decided yet.

"I will, I won't, I will..."

Don't make fun of her.

It is quite a problem for
a girl to lose her virtue.

- Really?
- Not for you.

Why? I was once a virgin
like everybody.

It seems so far away!

I was such a bore back then.

I remember not wanting
to see him afterwards.

Why?

Because I hated it.

Really?

Maybe you didn't love him.

It seems that it's different
when you're in love.

You think so? I was crazy
about this boy.

I don't know, I had imagined
things about it.

I imagined it differently.

It is true that the first
is always disappointing,

then you get used to it,

and finally find it
very pleasant.

You'll see.

Poor thing. She is frightened.

She makes me think
of my grandmother.

On her honeymoon, she was so
scared, she hid on a balcony.

Can you imagine?

My grandmother running
in her nightgown,

my grandfather, drunk,
running after her.

For me, it was in a hotel.

We had an agreement that
I'd spend the whole night.

I didn't want it to last
5 minutes, you see?

I wanted a whole night.

I was still living with
my parents,

Imagine, spending the night out!

What did you tell them?

Some stupid story.

Parents are willing to believe
anything!

They always believe us.

- Good evening, mom.
- Hello, darling.

You'll never believe
what happened to me.

What happened?

The salon is taking us
to Deauville for a gala.

Deauville?

There will be many customers
over there.

So the salon asked
that I help them.

When will you go?

Tonight to return tomorrow
morning.

I sleep over there and
we return in the morning.

This trip could be very tiring.

I didn't dare to refuse.
They asked for a favor.

- Are you traveling by train?
- By car.

The boss is taking us.

I have to rush, we're
leaving in half an hour.

Can you wait for five minutes?
I need to change.

How much are they paying you?

- Did they tell you?
- Some overtime at the next pay.

And we're not even sure.

Our boss is so stingy.

For working at night,
they could do something.

Yes, maybe.

Mom, if you stay here,
I'll never be ready.

What are you doing, Mom?

Preparing your suitcase.

I have your warm nightgown.
It is very cold in Deauville.

But it is horrible.

It is not important.
No one will see it.

- You want to dance?
- Yes.

This suitcase is yours?

It's nothing.

My mother's stuff.

I didn't have time to go home.

You're the prettiest here.

And you, the most handsome man.

That is not the truth.

You don't have classical
features.

That's not what I am looking
for in a man.

Can you tell me what you're
looking for?

I don't know.

What time is it?

You're not going home.
It's only 10:30 p.m.

Just asking.

Ginette, I have to take
you home.

No, one last minute.

But it is very late.

I have something to tell you.

What?

Here.

- I thought about last night.
- Let's not talk about it.

On the contrary, let's talk
about it.

Since we love each other, and
we're getting married anyway,

why should we go on like that?

What exactly do you mean?

Well...

I have decided to spend the
night with you.

What?

Now, immediately?

Is that how you react?

I thought you'd like that.

Of course, but it was not
expected.

Did you think about your mother?

What will she say if you don't
come home?

Don't worry. I took care
of everything.

Where will we go?

To a hotel.

I don't feel comfortable
taking you there.

We'd like a room, please.

For a moment or for the night?

For the night.

Good. I'll get you one.

Follow me, please.

Here. Good night.

You should have asked
for the price.

Just for once, it's not
important.

A room like that must
be expensive.

Don't you want to remove
your coat?

Yes.

I forgot to ask you about
your mother.

She's fine, thank you.

The doctor gave her
a new prescription.

Come in.

I forgot to ask you to fill out
these forms.

Give them back to me tomorrow
before you leave.

Should we get undressed
and go to bed?

You're incredible.

Why?

I am shocked. I didn't expect
you to be that way.

How am I?

- Different.
- So are you.

You seem intimidated.

It's true. I am very nervous
to be in this room with you.

We can always leave.

Do you want us to leave?

No.

I can't anyway. I told my
mother I'd be in Deauville.

You have dragged this bag all
night, and I hadrt a clue.

I didn't know how to tell you.

I was waiting to be
propositioned...

as usual.

Myself, I had taken
some great resolutions.

I had decided to wait for
a year if necessary.

Is it true?

I swear.

It's always good to know
each other well.

Say, you don't have a pajama?

- No.
- What will you do?

You could catch a cold
sleeping nude?

How many covers are there?

Three.

- That'll do.
- Yes.

The pillows are very soft.

Could we turn off the big lamp
and keep the small one on?

Of course.

Done.

Wait. I am going to change.

You should get undressed
while I am gone.

You can lie down, if you want.

I am so frustrated.

My nightgown is so ugly.

- It is not important.
- Of course it is.

I have another one that suits
me very well.

I am ready.

I decided not to wear
my nightgown.

You're not undressed?

Would you like me to?

No.

Not now.

Fran�ois, you'll think I am
stupid, but I am scared.

I don't even want to kiss you.

My love, do you know
what we'll do?

Yes, I know.

Well, I think you don't.

I've decided that nothing
will happen between us tonight.

- Nothing at all?
- Nothing.

We'll talk, we'll tell
each other stories,

we'll play cards,
whatever you want...

but that, we'll do it
some other time.

When you will feel like it.

Tomorrow morning, maybe?

If you want.

Now that I know it won't happen
immediately, I feel better.

Kiss me.

We could still kiss again,
couldn't we?

Before we sleep.

If you want.

Stop me when you have enough.

- Do you promise?
- I promise.

Kiss me.

Many women make... some mistakes
before they marry...

which leave us with a small
percentage of virgins.

That is true. We know that.

Though 90% arrive, dressed
in white, at City Hall.

Why?

Come on, to please us.

Wait a minute. Mathematically
speaking...

I told you 90%. It is a number,
isn't it?

Mathematics are about numbers,
isn't it?

Since we're talking about
numbers,

we'll mention that one of
five women get married...

for love.

EXPRESS
TO PARIS

Sir? Sir? I have the pictures!

- Here we are.
- Here we are.

Be careful.

To what? We're married.

Are you sure?

Since seven hours and
45 minutes!

It seemed longer.

What a day!

I decided never to get married
again. It's too tiring.

Tickets, please.

What time will we arrive
in Paris?

9:40 p.m.

We have 2:25 hours to go.

If we make it on time.

Not today! I hope we'll make it
on time.

Don't turn it off.

I meant good.

- We didn't need light.
- I didn't see the pictures yet.

Look how moved Mom looks.

- Moved...
- And Dad...

Don't you find them both young?

Really young.

That's my cousin.
Isn't she pretty?

Very pretty.

Everybody thought
she was the prettiest.

Certainly.

How about me?

You were the bride.

When you're married,
you don't count anymore?

What I meant is that your
cousin was the prettiest...

next to you.

How about my sister?

- Your sister?
- Wasrt Colette pretty?

- Delicious.
- Did you see her dress?

- Wonderful.
- Her hat?

Not bad.

You don't like her hat?

- I'd say...
- You don't like it.

No.

Too bad. We chose it together.

With hats... it's all
about taste.

So, Colette and I
have no taste.

- Who said that?
- You did.

Darling, we won't argue
over your sister's hat...

on our wedding day.

No. We won't argue.

- Never?
- I swear.

Darling, do you know
what I'd like?

No.

That you grow a mustache.

Really? That'll take time.

We have a whole life
ahead of us.

We're married, aren't we?

Very married.

I am sleepy. I wish I was
in my bed.

You can smoke, you know.

- I am not in a rush.
- I know you.

You don't tolerate the smoke.

You're too nervous when you
don't.

I'll go in the hallway, then.

I'll sleep for a while.

Do you like this one?

I saw it before.
You were wearing it.

You didn't say anything.

I didn't have the time.

Now, you have time.

Do you like it?

Turn so I can see.

You're ravishing.

I am not talking about myself,
but the...

- I like it very much.
- You're lying already!

On our wedding day!

What did you want me to say?

Nothing, darling. Go finish
your cigarette.

- Listen to me.
- I told you that I will sleep.

Your attention please.
We're about to leave.

Is that yours?

Yes. I am sorry.

Charming hat.

Can I offer you a cigarette?

I don't smoke, Sir.

- May I?
- Please do.

No smoking.

I asked Mademoiselle...

But not mine.

Please, forgive me, Sir.

I wish you happiness, Madame.

A young bride shouldn't smile
to everybody, you know.

And a groom, should he smile
to all the women?

When did I smile?

The lady with the cigarette!

"Can you light my
cigarette, Sir?"

Certainly, Madame.

You seemed happy.
You were courteous.

This isn't the same thing.

So men have all the rights?

Don't look. I am ugly when
I cry.

No.

- I wasrt really upset.
- Of course, you werert.

I don't know what happened.

You're tired, unnerved...

Remember what the mayor said?

"Marriage is an everyday
victory."

"A victory on selfishness...

"...that requires sacrifices...

"...that will lead...

...to a perfect union."

You must think, "With that one,
I am not so sure."

Don't start crying again.

If you have regrets,
you can always divorce.

It's still early.

Yes.

It hasn't been 12 hours
since we've been married.

10 hours, 16 minutes.

Leave your watch.

Wait a minute.

Allow me.

What's taking this train
so long!

You're bored already?

I feel good with you here.

I would like to be
elsewhere with you.

Me too.

No. I was wrong.

You don't need a mustache.

Remove.

Let me see.

So? Where you sleeping?

It's your train that's sleeping,
not us.

Where are we?

We arrived 20 minutes ago.

- In Paris?
- Yes.

Darling, we are in Paris.

But wait...

Porter?

Sir?

You're forgetting
your cigarettes.

But I don't smoke.

- I don't smoke anymore.
- Incredible!

Such a small sacrifice.

After the marriage, the family
tends to expand.

No! Remove the children.
What we're about to say...

is not suitable to their ears.

The character that comes
into play...

is the seducer, the wily,
the lover.

Unless it's the other,
the seductress, the vamp,

the mistress.

The intrusion of one doesn't
prevent the other's.

This theory could clear
the way to the worst abuse.

We won't make it ours.

In fact, clear the tray,
we need it.

Me quitting now!

I will leave service now!

That's right. Leave service
of Sir now, Mrs. Kokolowski.

Ankolowsky, please.

As you like.

Madame is served.

Hurry up. I am late.

I have an appointment at 9:00.

You should have asked me
to wake you up.

Amusing. Hilarious.

Poor darling, how do you
wake someone up,

when you cannot wake up
yourself?

You should have told the maid,
she doesn't have much to do.

We don't have one.
I just kicked her out.

What?

I was tired of seeing that
woman, what's more, Polish,

coming late every morning.

I mentioned it to her.

She replied that she had plenty
of job offers,

and that I only had
to say one word.

So I said it.

- That's not true!
- Sure.

If everyone spoke his mind, the
world would be a bloody one!

Bloody. Come on. They have
that tendency to exaggerate.

I kicked out a rude Polish
woman.

It is as if I erased Poland
off the world map.

Jean-Claude?

Jean-Claude?

Stop gargling and listen to me!

What do you say?

Nothing.

It's unbelievable.

How the best man can change
in 5 years.

In the beginning
of our marriage,

he listened to me,
before I even opened my mouth.

I will call the employment
office this afternoon,

by tomorrow, you'll have a maid.

"A maid..."

Really? That's incredible!

That's not incredible.
I can do that for you.

I am not talking about that.
Listen, this is funny!

Is the French woman happy
in love?

"A public survey reveals that...

"20% of women have cheated
on their husbands

and 33% acknowledge that
adultery could be an option."

We have 47% of liars.

20 plus 33, plus 47 equals 100%.

It is not funny, it's nasty.

It is simple, adultery,
confessed or not,

should be condemned
in the same manner as...

theft or tax fraud.

I'll give you that. But an
honest woman who cheats...

Honest? A woman that
cheats is not honest.

She's a slut...

or a prostitute.

She could also be a victim,
a misunderstood.

An unsatisfied.

Your victims and unsatisfied
are crowding

the clubs and the tea bars.

Can you tell what a woman,
who has a home,

is doing in a club or a tea bar
at 5 p.m.?

She's having tea.

That's what they do at tea bars.

Never!

Unless you're 65 years old!

Even then!

When you have nobody to cheat,
you cheat your hunger,

by gulping pastries.

You're right.

I said you're right.

You are an example of a husband.

And me, the perfect wife.

Today is an important date!

A once in a lifetime thing
happened to me today.

Today, two hours ago,
I turned 29.

What can I say, my poor baby.
We're all getting old.

He could have said,
"29 years old?

You'll always be the
same to me."

We get used up, we get old,
and before we know it...

we're dead. You'll see.

It's from Agatha.

Goodbye, darling.

He's such a lout!
What a monster!

You have finished, Sir.
Sit down.

Make-up!

Get me all this side...

- You have a phone call, Sir.
- Who?

- Your wife.
- I'll be back.

Good morning, Darling.

One moment.

They're ready.

For the shampoo-mousse,
for the brillantine.

What's going on?

I am informing you that you just
offered me a beautiful coat

in Moher wool, hand made.

That's in style.

I am not greedy. I invite you
to the theater or the movies.

My poor darling, we're having
dinner with with Marssac.

Maybe, but half of France
uses Savonette to wash.

The shows, these days...

It's simple. There's nothing
won'th seeing.

Not necessarily. They say
Marssac is getting rich...

It's a lie.

A monstrous lie.

You're smart, you'll understand.

All soaps are the same,
since they're manufactured...

with the same basic products.

The trick is adding perfume.

Me? I do not add perfume.
That's my secret.

A soap that smells like soap.

Now, we need publicity.
That's your domain.

Patience, little lady.
One more question...

and we'll change the subject.

However,

dear Mr. Perret, if you
give me a discount...

let's say... 35%...

But wait, the deficit will be
for my firm.

Excuse us. We'll soon talk
about something else.

His hair is messy, but...

it is wanted.

Casual... a little too much.

Charming, in a modern way.

He pretends that he's joking,
to show his beautiful teeth.

She's pretending that
she's bored...

to attract attention.

She has a cute nose.
The rest cannot be bad.

Little modern bourgeoise.

She thinks she's emancipated,
but still reads Goncourt.

She has a passion for the
independence of Congo...

and coupons.

- Nicole!
- Excuse me.

Wake up. Mr. Marssac asked
if you wanted escargots?

No, thank you.

Six oysters for Madame,
and for us, 3 dz. Of escargots.

Did you see?

This guy is staring at me as if
I were Brigitte Bardot.

Are your lobsters fresh?

They came today, Sir.

These places are full of gigolos
looking for opportunities.

That was very awkward.

He could have replied, "It's
normal, you're so beautiful."

In fact, he's not looking
at you,

but this cute little blonde
behind you.

This is very, very, very
awkward.

What will Madame have
after the oysters?

Anything with steamed potatoes.

More steamed potatoes
for Madame?

No. I am finished.

I am sure that
she can eat for four.

But she knows
I am looking at her.

When they know that,
these ladies nibble.

Excuse me, please.

I am up for a record.

If he tries to talk to me,

I'll put him in his place.

I hate those manners.

She's pretending going
to the powder room,

typical.

Tell me,

this guy, earlier,

the one who was staring at
"the cute little blonde,"

he asked me for a rendezvous.

No.

Are you shocked?

One of those parasites that have
nothing better to do.

Things could have gone back
to place...

if Jean-Claude had replied,

"I hope you said that you
worshipped your husband."

I'd reply "yes," and that would
be the end of the matter.

It is one thing or the other,

that I had lied,

or that I had indeed
a rendezvous,

and the only solution
was to attend.

Hello.

I didn't think you'd come.

Neither did I.

Thank you, anyway.

Thank you.

You shouldn't be thanking me.

Never mind.

What are you drinking?

Tomato juice.

I'll have a scotch.

A scotch.

I hate fruit juices.

Me too. But with married women,
there's one recipe:

Being sober, innocent,
and foolish.

You'll think that
I am a boy scout.

I give up. Barman! Two scotch.

I am warning you,

when I start, I drink 10,
one after the other.

Recipe number two,
for difficult people,

play the gullible fool.

But that is an advanced level
class.

Do you know how wonderful
you are?

Thank you.

Truly wonderful.

He's repeating himself,
but he's nice.

In fact, a boy that age doesn't
need too much imagination.

Thank you.

What's her name?
What does she do?

Where is she from?

These are the questions
I've been asking myself...

since last night.

My name is Nicole.

Like my sister.
An extraordinary girl.

The name has to do with it,
maybe.

If I had a sister, she could
very well be named, "Nicole."

My name is Giles.

You don't dislike it too much?

Not at all.

How old can he be?

He cannot look so young.

Especially with these eyes.

They're strong. I will get
lighter ones.

She thinks that I am an altar
boy. That's perfect.

It's better to pass for
an angel than for Casanova.

The Little Seducer's Manual,
They know it all.

Gallimard published it.

A pack of Lucky.

DANGEROUS LIAISONS

The first day, to dissipate
doubts,

we went to see a rated R movie,

The second day, a detective
film.

The third day, a modern movie.

One must live in his time.

Time that we began to find
rather long.

The fourth day, no movie,
no ice cream bar...

Something was going to happen.

We haven't spent time alone.

I mean, without the barman
and all those people...

what I call "alone,"

I'd have so many things to tell
you.

Why don't you tell me then?

Tell me, Giles, be nice.

They're not things you can say
on the street, in bars...

or at the movies.

They're not things you say
standing up,

or sitting down, but lying
down.

This dear boy is trying
to take me to a hotel.

He's so funny.

Nicole?

Yes, Giles?

I missed.

The apple is not ripe.

Forgive me, Nicole.

I am a lout, a churl,

I deserve to be slapped.

Do you know what I had in there?

What that idiot's mind
was concocting?

How would I know?

I wanted to take you
in that place.

You... you.

My little Nicole.

I ruined everything.

So long.

He loves me. He understands me.
He respects me.

He has everything
in his favor.

Nicole. I thought you wanted
to mock me when you called.

To punish me.

So, you are also generous.

To all sinners, forgiveness.

I warn you. It is
a friendly visit.

I know.

If Giles had jumped on me,
Jean-Claude would have had...

a spotless wife.

The Hussard style has been
unappealing since the last war.

I won't even tell you
to feel at ease.

Your coat is very beautiful.

I won't even kiss you.

It's up to you.

Everything is up to you.

When husbands kiss you, they
never ask for your opinion.

It's wonderful to decide.

Wonderful to stay clear-headed.

This is not a zipper,
they're hooks.

That's being clear-headed.

Giles, there's too much light.

No, that's not true.

No, your turn. You hang up.

Good night, my
darling. I hang up?

Come on, I can't.

You hang up first.
I'll count to three.

One... two...

Is that you?

Excuse me a minute.
Don't hang up.

Who is it?

Don't tell me it's
your hairdresser.

It's the idiot from the other
night.

The gigolo at the restaurant.

The parasite.

You saw him again?

Depending on what you call
seeing.

"See again", see one more time
a personal, animal or thing...

that was already seen.

Excuse me again.

I met him by coincidence,
on the streets.

I was coming from aunt Olga.

I think he's courting me.

That's bad.

When a woman confesses
to her husband...

that a man is courting her,

that means that step
has already been taken.

I was talking to my husband,
as I said.

Excuse me.

Just for laughs, invite
him for lunch.

That's not funny,

It could be. Invite him.

Since you wish to see me, Sir,

my husband is inviting
you for lunch.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow. As I said.

Not at all.

My husband is a very
charming man.

14, Boulevard Dunkerman,
5th floor, on your right.

1:00. Goodbye, Sir.

He was a bit moved,
but he thanks you.

How did he get our phone number?

We are in the telephone book.

Telephone book: Book where names
of people with a phone...

are published.

All it takes, is to read.

And to know the name of the
person you're looking for.

Somebody has told him. Maybe
aunt Olga.

You're ridiculous.
You won't play Othello?

I don't understand that you
compare a subtle husband...

to a jealous Negro.

What does "subtle" mean?

Is he suspicious?

I will cancel the lunch. No.
He'll be more suspicious.

Funny, isn't it?

It is very good.

Nicole is a perfect house wife.

The surprises will keep coming.

Talking about surprises,
when do you plan to marry her?

I beg your pardon?

Dear Sir, I think we have
a common ground.

We love my wife.

We're not in 1900 and
I am a modern husband.

No scene, no violence, but
civility and fair play.

If my wife prefers you, I'll
accept, and let you have her.

I don't understand.

You're not in love with Nicole?

Certainly not.

What a rat.

So you have no intention
to marry her.

Of course not.

Excuse me,

I said that just in case
it was in your intentions...

to face your responsibilities,
and to protect the future...

of a weak little being.

She's not demanding, she likes
her comfort and hates money,

so she spends it and hates
used cars.

It's either I behave
like a hero...

or a gentleman.
Heroism is simple.

I get up, slap him,
he slaps me back,

which could lead to worse
uncertainties,

Let's choose to be gentlemen.

My God! It's 3:30,
I have to move my car.

- No...
- Yes. It's 3:30?

In two minutes, I'll get
a parking ticket.

Well, I'll be right back.

I will not say that it
was brilliant,

but I hope that I wasrt
mistaken...

for a dutyful character.

What do I say to her now?

Am I going to play
the offended husband?

No. The guilty husband.

- Jean-Claude, I must...
- No.

It's all my fault.

I should be asking for
your forgiveness.

I haven't been taking
care of you enough.

I haven't been able
to reassure you.

That's it. That's exactly it.

It's all his fault.

He's wonderful.

Hello, Massac? You couldn't
call at a better time.

Tomorrow night?

You almost ruined my marriage
with your business dinners.

It's over, the business dinners.

Finished.

To please you.

Tomorrow, five O'clock.

That's right. Goodbye, Sir.

Goodbye, darling. Five O'clock.

It is quite obvious
that adultery,

which we disapprove,

would be one of the major
causes for divorce,

if jealousy was not
present to calm the effects.

So what are the main causes
for a rupture?

First, brutality,
second, alcoholism,

then mood incompatibility.

When all the joys of marriage
are exhausted,

there's only one left,
that of ending it: Divorce.

Memories.

Memories.

Memories.

Memories.

Wonderful memories.

They loved each other so much,
those two!

Other wonderful memories.

Such a crazy, crazy,
crazy, love!

Alas, passion doesn't always
last forever.

Not always.

Not always.

- Minouche, can I come in?
- What?

I'd like to talk to you.

Come in.

What do you want?

Here it is. Do you find me sexy?

Sexy?

If not sexy, do you find me
intriguing?

Mysterious?

I know you too much.

Do I reflect captivating
strength...

and authority?

It's saying a lot.

After all,
after 10 years of marriage...

one doesn't ask this question
anymore.

Of course. This question
is totally out.

But allow me to tell you,
that you are ravishing.

You are the prettiest
you've ever been.

- Even though...
- What?

You're sleeping here
alone, and me, alone.

It is abnormal.

We've been sleeping alone
a long time ago.

It's been abnormal
for a long time.

Remember the
nights we spent together.

What was wrong with those
nights?

When the inconveniences of
sharing a bed are so obvious,

that means that the advantages
are no longer appreciated.

Isn't it, Minouchette?

We no longer have desire
for each other.

So, why not divorce?

You have a mistress.

A mistress?

What have you imagined!

Don't do that, Michel.
I've always remained faithful.

I am sure.

Because we have no guilt,
that's exactly why...

we have to divorce immediately.

After, it'll be too late, while
now, we can do it nicely.

Without any problems,
like friends.

What you're saying
is not stupid.

It's not stupid,
it's even very smart.

Then why not?

We could still see each other.

Have dinners together.

We could go on week ends.

The very thought of not
being together,

make us want to be with
one another.

- You are a wonderful guy.
- Yes.

- Promised? Friends?
- Always.

You're wonderful.

It must be my mother.

She couldn't come
at a better time!

We'll give her the good news.

Hello, mom? It's her.

It is nice of you to call.
How are you?

Us? Perfectly well.
Better and better.

I'll let you speak with
Danielle.

She has something to tell you.

Mom? Good evening.

Michel and I are divorcing.

What? Are you crazy?

What you're saying is awful!

It is not at all awful.

So, who's going to keep
the apartment?

We don't care. We'll agree
on something.

Kisses. See you tomorrow.

She doesn't seem to be pleased.

She's a bit old fashioned.
It's normal.

So, tomorrow, we go see
Marcelou?

Good idea. He's an excellent
lawyer.

It'll be quick since we agree
to divorce.

No, my pigeons. It's against
the law.

You need motives to divorce.

You may get married casually,

but a divorce, is a serious
matter.

As we explained...

The law requires legal motives.

Are you cheating?

No.

So, cheat first, then,
we'll see.

That's what's required by
the law?

The law requires legal motives.

Have you abandoned your home?

No.

Did you waste the household
budget? Are you in debt?

Have you had violent exchanges
in front of the maids?

Drugs? Alcohol? Television?

What are you looking for?

It is simple. Michel and I
no longer desire each other.

That's all.

If all married people who didn't
desire each other...

asked for divorce,

everybody would be divorced.

Which one of you will be my
client?

Why?

Can't you handle the both of us?

Of course not. Those
are professional rules.

We're going to flip a coin.

Heads.

It's you.

I will ask you to
leave me with my client.

So... I have to...

- I'll wait downstairs, darling.
- Good.

- My friend...
- Excuse me but...

My dear client, you take it
too casually.

We must defend ourselves!

Even counter-attack!

Me? Attack Michel? Never!

To begin with, we'll ask
for a small payment,

but later, we'll ask
for alimony.

I don't want money.

Don't be stupid. We'll give him
the treatment that he deserves.

We'll demolish him.

You gave him your best years,

he'll have to pay for that!

About the apartment, there's
no hope in keeping it?

It was his before our marriage.

Would he have the guts
to throw you out?

But we are separating.

One more reason not to forget
what belongs to you!

Nothing!

The statue? A gift
from you aunt. Yours!

This lamp, a gift from
your cousin. Yours.

One good thing done.
Let's move on to others.

- This chair?
- It's his.

- I am surprised it's Michel's!
- It's a gift from his uncle.

He also became your uncle.

Yours.

Let's see for the rest.

Mom, I don't agree with that.

Me, I am thinking about your
future.

I won't lavish him with neither
plates, nor a duster!

The chair?

Come on, Mom. That's his bed.

We'll see.

How about all these books?

They're all his!

But he bought them for you!

They're yours.

It's shameful, Mom.
Michel will be furious.

You mean this churl is capable
of everything!

You're right, I am too fast.

Let's leave everything
in its place.

Later, we'll see.

Watch it with these little
rascals.

I am deeply displeased with
the way you refer to Michel.

We want to part elegantly.

Open your eyes, my child.

I saw him in traffic
the other day,

next to him was a woman.

What were they doing
in this car?

They were waiting for the green
light,

but I had a flair.

Impossible. Michel
has never cheated on me.

Maybe! But that's all
he thought about!

He looked at women suspiciously.

The concierge! He even looked
at me with these eyes!

What you're saying is horrible.

You didn't know him. You were
dreaming, my child.

You're like me. Too sentimental.

Friends have no comments to
make,

however, divorcing is the right
thing to do.

- You think so?
- Well, yes.

Why do you say, "well, yes"?

Because I like you.

You're a good old guy.

Please.

Have you seen Max recently?

- Yes. Why?
- Nothing.

You were about to say something.

I am sure there was nothing
between him and your wife.

Neither Francis, nor Gerald.

A little flirt, probably.

Beautiful women like
to be flattered.

After all, it's none of
your friends' business.

Do you have a good lawyer?

You're a monster!

For years, my life is hell!

That's good. Write it down.
"My life is like hell.

"You didn't want to see my
pain.

You didn't want to see
my big sorrow."

- Big sorrow?
- Yes. Go all the way.

- "Big sorrow..."
- You don't like it?

I admit, for a man,
it's a bit ridiculous.

Remove "big."

Remove it.

"You didn't see my sorrow."

Remove "big sorrow," both.

Now, let's be more direct.

- I am tired...
- Tired?

Yes. There! Just like that!

Believe me. Don't argue!

"I am tired of your jealousy,
your personality,

In short, I can't stand you."

I have to write that down?

I understand.

But that's not true.

It is not important. The court
couldn't care less about truth.

What you need is abuse,
and we're giving it.

"So"?

No, "so" is a phrase support
for me.

Erase, "so."

"You have stepped on
my illusions,

betrayed my hopes..."

Which is ridiculous.

Coming from a woman,
the court adores that phrase.

Write...

"What have you done
with my life, Michel?"

Start with "Michel."

"Michel, what have you
done with my life?

"I have suffered in the
beginning,

of your animalistic sexual
desire."

What?

"Your animalistic instincts...

or your animalistic appetite."

Animalistic desire!

Write that down.

"I am now suffering from
your...

softness... indolence."

Make up your mind.

We have to find the right word.

Failures!

- I refuse to write that.
- Listen...

I won't. It is absolutely
grotesque.

I won't leave my husband
completely disturbed.

Who cares? You're divorcing.

We'll do it the right way, Sir.

But the law will find it
unacceptable.

Do as I say and don't argue.

What is this?

"You're not the only woman
on earth.

I happen to know some that are
nicer and more desirable."

That's false.

That's what works in court.
So, write it down.

"I had it with a frigid
woman..."

No.

- Yes or no?
- No!

Do you or don't you
want a divorce?

- Yes.
- Then, write.

"I have no respect
for a churl like you."

I refuse to write all that!

That's impossible!

Thank you.

- Milk?
- That's nice of you.

Thank you.

You have no sugar.

A slice of toast?

Jam?

- What is it?
- The mail, Sir.

That's for you. And for you,
Sir.

Funny, it's from your attorney.

Yours too.

A copy of a letter.

Mine also.

What nerves!

Charming.

I stepped on your illusions! Me!

You couldn't stand me!

It's nonsense.

Frigid?

Animalistic appetite?

Sexual indolence? When?

"You're not the only woman
on earth."

I tortured you morally? Me?

Absolutely! You've always
ignored my Ioneliness.

You stole my best years!

"A thug like me."

A thug who slaved all day
for his household!

Your money. You're
bringing it up!

I didn't see a lot of it!

Of course, you spent it before
it came!

Except that you gave it
to more desirable women.

What women!

I was blind, now I see!

In cars. What were you doing
in a car with them!

- They saw you, hypocrite!
- Me?

- Yes!
- They saw you with Max.

And with Gerard, and Francis.

Let's talk about it.

A pig. I've married a pig.

I hate you.

You are beginning to look
like your mother.

With a father who went bankrupt,
you dare insult my mother?

And your brother? He still owes
us 1,000 new francs. Animal!

- I won't mention your sister!
- My sister...

What did your sister tell me?

That's you.

Really?

Reconciliation is for
tomorrow, at 3:00?

At the court of justice.

The law requires a last attempt
of reconciliation.

I am talking to your heart,
with emotions.

A married life couldn't only
count happy days.

You're going through a crisis.
Think of your best memories.

Reach out to each other.

Sir, do you insist on
your divorce intentions?

I insist.

- Madame?
- I insist.

Well... next.

Sit down.

The law requires a last attempt
of reconciliation.

I am talking to your heart,
with emotions.

Married life couldn't consist
only of happy days.

You're going through a crisis.
Think of your best memories.

Reach out for each other.

Sir, do you insist
on your divorce intentions?

I insist.

Madame?

I insist.

Good. Next!

MOVERS-DESBORDES

Stop! Stop!

Here, you've forgotten this!

It won't be long.

That's all I am taking.

My night gown, my toothbrush.

You don't find women as
disinterested as me every day.

I'll leave you
the apartment too.

I return my prison key.

If ever you have a copy,
I'll change the lock.

If you knew what I think about
you!

It's mutual!

Me, poor idiot, who wanted
to remain your friend!

Me, the nut who wanted
to see you again!

Lout!

Slut!

The bitch!

Her little toothbrush.

Yes, we know that,

the law is absurd.

You can always remarry
your wife.

Don't give me that face,
my poor Minet.

Meanwhile, your wife
will join the sad category...

of single women.

What's a single woman?

Be careful. They're not
all love protesters.

But human rights adepts,
and suffragettes of freedom.

Alas, for most women, freedom
is a way to wait for someone.

Whow? Him, as usual. Love.

Whether he's small or big,

Appolon, or bearded,

Whoever he is,

He will always find a woman
to give him justice...

against those who have
already forgiven him.

Your Honor,

if we can call upon
extenuating circumstances,

it's in favor of my client.

Mr. Desire.

Who, allow me to say,

is a modest victim of the
painful social phenomenon...

the single woman.

What a dream giver, a healer...

A comforter.

The act of accusation shows,

Swindling of single women.

17 complaints, 9 social status,
12 times bigamous,

not to mention illegal
display of decorations.

But, Sir,

Your Honor, what
am I blamed for?

If I have healed,
and comforted many,

you must believe that there
were many to be comforted.

They blame you for you have
left.

That means I am missed.

I am not this violent husband,
this awkward seducer...

You should be saying this.

He's not this violent,
cold husband,

pushing his poor companion
to adultery.

Among the plaintiff,
six have already...

asked the court to show leniency
to my client.

Six women are ready to go back.

If we go by moral,
there are five too many.

Moral... it's the law
that is wrong.

Is it my client's fault,
if the woman anticipates...

and desires marriage?

Is it his fault, if, since
his youth, he was attracted...

by catastrophes and distress?

Is it his fault if his heart
tells him to comfort those...

who are least spoiled by life.

These women that we see
traveling alone.

The black sheep of
hotel-keepers,

during vacations.

Single women, on Christmas Day.

Excuse me, but I would like to
ask a question to the accused.

Mr. Desire, since it is your
name,

can you tell us, in spite of
the charming depiction,

what circumstances have
led one of your victims...

to cease that
philanthropic cure?

It's because of a professional
mistake, Sir.

I was in Paris, on a beautiful
spring day...

I was randomly entering a store,

Can I help you, Sir?

Does one ever know what one
wants?

You enter a store and your
whole life changes.

Have you noticed how strange
life is?

Gloves are the clothes
of the hands, you know.

And the hand guides our life.

Forgive me, you must have heard
quite some insipid thoughts.

People asked me for gloves
and they talk about gloves,

and I sell them gloves.

Sheep skin, suede,
to you only mean...

Gloves.

Not a happy little woman.

Elegant or sports, Sir?

- As you like.
- Your size?

I don't know.

Can I see your hand?

I am the one who usually
say that.

- Excuse me?
- Nothing. It's not for me.

Is it for a woman?

Yes, for my m... mother.

She has such beautiful hands.

Small, gracious.

Just like yours.

She wasrt wearing a ring.

I am wasting your time.

That's why I am here for.

Maybe it wasrt your boss's
idea.

I am the boss... I mean,
the manager.

Nice store. I have a few friends
who'd like to buy...

a similar store. Is it
difficult to find?

Quite. I myself, would like to
buy it.

One must invest wisely.

What an interesting job,
you've got.

The hands. I see chance,
crime, love.

Romeo and Juliet's hands.

I've never seen it on this
angle.

Until today, have you ever seen
life at a good angle?

The same evening...

Excuse me, I can hardly explain
to myself

what has pushed me to come back,
when I have an appointment...

far away from here.

Can I take you home?

You're meeting someone.

I am entering a life that
is already filled.

Sir, your insistence...
Would you excuse me.

She was serious and careful.

What followed, was as usual.

Eliane Gerard, it's me.

I just wanted
to hear your voice.

How did he find my address?

The next day, flowers.

Frederic Leroy, Foreign
Exchange Brokerage Firm Bertin.

Let her rest a couple of days,

then during the same day,

One message,

two messages,

three messages.

"In memory of our encounter."

"I think of you."

"I will come waiting for
you in three days."

In the car, good manners,
again, and again.

There are some interesting
statistics on marriage...

and cars.

A man who drives brutally,
treats his wife brutally.

You can drive it with two hands.

Not to forget the melancholy.

- What's wrong?
- Nothing.

We're in front of your porch.

So long.

Not to rush. Obtain everything
without asking.

Would you like to come
for tea, on Sunday?

Of course.

So?

I was up for surprises.

When my mother died,
I took her apartment.

One can feel Ionely
in a 5-room, so,

Ms. Mangebois.

The old slick kind.
Not my type.

Gilberte Dumas,

Executive secretary.

Introverted, shy.

She has a way of pulling
her hands,

and of showing her legs
unknowingly,

We each have our room,

we only share one thing: The
piano and the television set.

And the kitchen.

And Ludovic.

Who's Ludovic?

Your rival.

It was clear to me, that
I was being closely examined.

Do you live with your mother?

But... no.

Was she happy?

For what?

The gloves.

Delighted.

Eliane told me that you worked
for a brokerage firm.

Yes.

My boss, oftentimes,
works with yours.

Really?

I will have to consult you.

A small ineritance?

A small ineritance?

Unfortunately, my rule of thumb
is never, to advise friends.

That is not nice.

I prefer food recipes.

The little glutton.

Do you know the Magiard
Escalopes?

One kilo of shallots,

make a bouillon...

add some paprika,

a touch of cream.

That's the whole secret.

The perfect man for a house.

Don't you think, Eliane?

Yes, he has a few talents.

What's with her?

I am having fun.

My father too, was
an extraordinary man.

A very strong man.

There's nothing like
a man in house.

You should come every day.

If Eliane had asked me, I would.

It's because she drinks wine
when there's company.

She's nervous.

The poor, little Eliane,
I shouldn't say that,

but she doesn't have
a happy life.

A manufacturer in Provence,
married with three children.

He's also a poet.
He loves Lamartine.

I like that.

She's been waiting for years.

But I think she's stopped
hoping for him.

You seem to enjoy the company
of Ionely ladies.

And yet, it is not very gay.

Though we've pulled
the alarm signal,

but the train never stops.

Have you ever had the feeling
of being useless?

- You have forgotten the sugar.
- I'll go get it.

You can see that we
do not entertain often.

Who is she?

A strange and wild little
animal.

An animal?

Gilberte is still a virgin.

And very proud, to top it all.

She's looking for
an exceptional man.

As if they existed.

We've bored you with
our stories.

On the contrary,
I have found a new family.

A family.

As the old lady trusted me
with her real estate,

I was playing cards with her.

The jack!

And of course, I always
let her win.

That doesn't...

Unappy in game...

As to Eliane, I was filing...

a tax return...

on titles and real estate
values.

"Profits on traditional
or commercial businesses...

"personal expenses,

social status."

I will write...

"single"?

Do you find it fair,

that an unmarried woman pays
additional taxes?

There's only one solution.

Frederic, of the three women
living here,

I am the Ioneliest.

Maybe because I am the most
femimine, thus the most naive.

I am ready to believe
and to give.

But be careful.

When I start having doubts,

It's over.

I become ferocious. You're not
born a bitch, you become one,

and men make you become one.

I was warned, but mistakes
are only human.

I took great pleasure...

helping Gilberte
in simple tasks.

She was saying the most
astounding things.

Last night, I didn't sleep well.

Asteroids, probably.

I cut my hair...

and I am not even trendy.

I am nothing like the women
in the magazines.

That's why men take no
interest in me.

I was getting very interested
in her...

which does not keep me from...

You sell gloves, so please
advise me,

I am about to ask someone
in marriage,

it's my first time.

I am the one will have
to ask for your hands...

The left one. That of the heart.

I will not give it back.

The following Sunday, at noon,
Eliane had accepted...

to visit me in my comfortable
little flat.

She was to bring me the titles
for a profitable investment.

Ms. Monvoie had already
disappeared.

Where are you?

You're not coming?

He's in Paris. Lucien,
the man I told you about.

I'd better not come.

I don't know anymore.

What about the titles?

I had made a mistake.

That's what you're
interested in?

Very well.

You may fetch them, I will
leave you an envelope.

A month's won'th of work lost
because of an idiot!

Eliane is not there.

I thought she had called you.

She left you an envelope,
just in...

Please don't look,
I am not presentable.

I am alone.

- Ms. Manchebois isn't there?
- No.

She went to Provence,
to her niece's wedding.

Did you have any plans for
today?

I will eat a slice of ham,

and at 5:00, I'll go
to a concert.

Do you love music?

At concerts, one doesn't feel
Ionely,

but at the movies and
at the theater, one does.

May I invite you
to have lunch?

Gilberte was my professional
mistake.

- That's all, thank you.
- Thank you.

Do you like my little
restaurant?

Wonderful.

I have a feeling that
you're mocking me.

No man has ever courted you?

Sure. But I always knew
what they wanted.

But me, I want love.
All or nothing.

The absolute love.

You don't know who I am.

A drink?

This had always been
my professional mistake.

Bars are for people like us.

What kind of people are we?

People who don't want to part,

but yet don't have a convenient
place to be together.

You're welcome to come to mine.

But Eliane is the one
who's invited.

You should play with me.

- Do you play table tennis?
- A little.

A game?

I give you 5 points. 5-0.

- I'll let you serve.
- As you please.

6-0.

The kid is good, isn't she?

7-0. You're not letting me win.

Were you hiding things?

Wait until I get my swing.

May I?

8-0.

9-0.

I had lost count...

and I found myself
at her place.

- No hard feelings?
- Why?

Because you beat me
in table tennis?

On the contrary.

It's good to hear
your manly steps in the house.

What keeps you here?

- My face?
- I like your eyes.

You say that to all
the ugly girls.

Ugliness is for
those who choose to be.

Why don't you wear contact
lenses?

I'd like you to take care
of yourself. Just yourself.

Who will provide for me?

I'll find the money.

By the way, Eliane
left you the envelope...

of her tiles...

which value you will double.

Promise that you won't
read them today,

when you get home.

And why?

Today, you're off work.

Swear...

that we won't mention
money today.

- Do you swear?
- I swear.

I feel good.

Gilberte, would you marry me?

Good evening.

I have come several times.
I was patiently waiting.

Forgive me for this morning.

Can I get in?

- Is that where you live?
- Yes.

It's funny,

that's not what I imagined.

What's wrong with my home?

Anonymous.

Do you offer me a drink?

You're mad at me?

Is it because of the titles
I didn't bring?

- I have them a home.
- No.

I stopped by. Here they are.

- You didn't open them?
- No.

I have a confession to make.

They're not mine.

What?

- What isn't yours?
- The titles. The money.

Whose are they?

- To Gilberte.
- Gilberte?

Yes, she's rich. Very rich.

Her family owns a
chateau in Perigord.

You'll marry her, won't you?
For better or for worse.

- Now, I understand.
- What do you understand?

The envelope.

I shouldn't have told you.

Me, her, what's the difference?

To me, there's no difference.

So,

the gloves you purchased,

you can hold them in your hands,

and ask for mine.

When are we getting married,
Frederic?

As soon as I get my papers.

Please tell me that
you'll rush it.

I feel so feeble and small
next to you.

The next day, I had to meet
Gilberte at her place.

I've made up my mind.
I won't marry you.

Why?

They say women enjoy stealing
their best friend's lover,

and I think men invent that
saying as an excuse.

I don't like that.

I'd lose faith in love.

I need to respect
the man that I will love.

Loneliness has given me
a taste for freedom, maybe.

Hello.

- You're not in the store?
- You're not at your office?

The Bertirs Brokerage Firm.

No one knows you there.

Is that a pitfall?

Are you scared of two weak
women?

I didn't do anything to you.

You've asked me to marry you.
Attempted fraud.

The titles are safe.

The envelope is still sealed.

The envelope was empty, anyway.

The titles are here,
in the desk.

- You're very smart.
- Yes.

We could create you a lot
of problems, if we wanted.

- But we don't.
- How?

We even think we owe
you something.

You don't seem to understand.

Look at her.

You've asked me in marriage.

You didn't know I had money.

You have preferred me to Eliane,

who's beautiful, intelligent,
and charming.

You have rid me of my past.

Back Street is over for me.

Now, I have a hold of my future.

Yes, I'll wear contact lenses.
I'll take better care of myself.

You've given me
the desire to live.

Run, or we'll call the police.

I have a question.
Which one of you has money?

Neither one of us,
Ms. Manchebois.

I had forgotten that one.

She handed me her title deeds,
last week.

Where are they?

Well, it was the old lady
that got me arrested.

La prison. Certainly.

La prison.

FREEDOM EQUALITY FRATERNITY

But sometimes later,

what do you think happened?

I was afraid I wouldn't make it.

I just left the court.

Happy to be free?

I don't know how to thank you.

Oh, yes, you do.

You need to make
some investments?

Yes, one.

They're waiting for us
at the City Hall.

We only have half an hour.

Hurry up.

Well, yes,

young women, old maids,

adolescents or married,

divorced or Ionely,

in love, women are always
stronger than us.

To conclude,

a tribute to women,

a quote from one of
our great contemporary writers,

"All women are beautiful
when they are loved.

"They are made to be loved,

more than to love."
Sasha Guitry.

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