All language subtitles for Le journal de Lady M 1993

THE DIARY OF LADY M.

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Diego came into the "Kismet"
because of a thunderstorm.

He knew nothing
about the place.

That night, a women's group played.

"Lady M",
rather warriors than women.

He was in Paris...

to exhibit a painting.

He didn't visit the "Kismet"
out of boredom.

It was a stroke of fate.

For him. For me.

Stop it, I'm counting.

Yes, we want our money.

Silence, Please...

It will go bad.
Give me my dough.

It's thousand francs,
5 for each.

Only 1000 francs?

That wasn't the deal.

Are they comfortable?

I didn't mean to scare you.

I've never knelt in front of a man,

What a strange feeling.

I forgot to say goodbye.

See you tomorrow.

If he doesn't behave...

the Devil will shaft him in the arse!

What's that? A prophecy?

It must hurt terribly!

You find that funny, huh? You
don't have to perform every night,

with a broken Speaker system...

lousy contracts...

advertising,
that must be paid...

girls who never earn enough...

and an owner, who is a vampire.

Damn it!

These guys drain you
for all your energy.

And you're giving and giving...

a real bruise.

I saw the show,

I mean a part of it...

I often walk home.

I like it.

Paris looks like an
Operetta scenery.

I agree about the scenery,
"Operetta" sounds a little exaggerated.

It had stopped raining.
We were encircled by the night.

Each followed his steps,

and sometimes they met.

He asked me for my perfume.

I stammered...

I couldn't say...

it was the smell of a woman who
had sweat too much on stage.

He smiled and said,
it reminded him of his childhood,

of the patio of his grandfather,

where he acted as if he
followed the conversation,

but where he enjoyed...

all smells from the earth...

and jasmine at dusk.

What's your name?

Wait...

I have no name.

My name is...

Lady M,

like the group.

When I was small,
I never slept...

before my mother put
something at the bed end.

This is good...

He looked at me.

And you,
how were you as a child?

I looked at this stranger who
seemed to know more than me...

about my child secrets,
my woman's secrets...

and the black sky of Paris.

What is it?

The sounds of Paris.

I walked through Paris today
and recorded it.

You don't paint with the eyes,
but with the ears?

Exactly.

What is it?

The bell of Père-Lachaise
when it closes.

You also walk through the cemeteries?

Everywhere.

Life's for walking.

And if you don't walk?

I wait for the dust to fall down.

What does that mean?

I think it was Leonardo da Vinci,
or another oddball like him,

always entered his studio
through a trapdoor.

That made the dust...

and the color pigments wirl up.

Then he waited an hour,
absolutely motionless,

until it had fallen down again.

I spend most of my time
in my studio in Barcelona.

I came to Paris for three days,
for an exhibition.

I exhibit in a group of painters,

but I'm not member of a group.

I thought the morning
would never come.

I was wrong,

even if we didn't
notice it coming.

We didn't feel sleepy,
although we had walked all night.

We were simply... stunned.

We were completely high.

You have a beautiful coat.

I stole it from a painter,
who's successful than me.

So you're a thief.
- Yes.

- But you're not a soul thief?
- We'll see.

Because there such people...
There are many soul thieves.

There are many small
soul thieves, you know.

Have you met many?

Yes.

Open your mouth.

My life's best breakfast.

If you come to Barcelona
you know where to find me.

I followed his head
hovering over the crowd,

like the head of a swimmer
over the water.

Then he was gone.

I bought flowers
and went home.

In the Kismet nothing happened.

Lady M had 15 days free.

I tried to kill the time, while...

my guardian angels Acropoli
and Roquette mockingly...

watched me,
they didn't like it when...

I let myself go as long
as there was enough to eat.

I would have called Diego,

but on the paper slip was only
a drawing and an address.

I could have left it there.

But an irresistible force drove me...

so that one day I stood
at the door of a humble...

little house in Barcelona.

Do you know Diego, the painter?

Yes.

You see the door over there?
That's it.

Thank you.
That door?

Did you find it easily?

I wandered around a little first.

I walked.

I looked.

I love this town.

I'm a daughter of
the Mediterranean ports.

This is good,

The Mediterranean is our big mother.

I'd like to take you on a trip.

A trip?

Yes.

Where to?

To my home area.

But...

why?

Just like that.

You make me feel like it,
to go away from here.

Are you coming?

I'll pick you up tomorrow.

Where will you be?

Hotel Nouvel.

I had 28 hours until
my rendezvous with Diego.

Perhaps out of fear
I wanted to hold back the time...

I didn't own much.
I didn't even have a name.

If it's true that we are
the children of our landscapes,

then I'm the heir of huge treasures.

Barcelona, Genoa, Marseilles,

Tangier, Cairo...

As Calais' Queen Bloody May,

when I once die, your names
will be engraved in my heart...

and nobody can take that from me.

- Have you brought your truck?
- A friend has it lent to me.

I can't drive anyway.

Oh, so you count on me.

No. I have a license,
but I drive rarely.

It takes a few kilometers before
it comes back. You're scared?

My eyes rested on
his forehead...

where the little hairs
become fluff and first...

are bleached by the sun.

I realized that I previously only
had loved people's clichés.

I knew nothing about him...

but I knew he wasn't a soul thief.

I had always been clumsy.

You know what clumsy means?

Don't move!

For the first time,
I see you in my light.

And how's the show?

Not so bad.

I ordered all that for you.

How is it?

Not so bad.

Not so bad?

It's marvelous!

It scared me more to be
under his gaze...

than being in hall ahead of
500 screaming guys.

I wanted to go towards the light.

I was used to the floodlights...

but under the gaze of this man...

my legs became soft.

My desire was to
to feel a great energy.

And I had the feeling
that my body dispersed.

I lay in Diego's arms, in that hotel
in Calla San Cristina.

While I was
those blooming almond trees,

that had touched Van Gogh
so much on a Spring morning.

I was here and now,

and yet in another place.

I loved everything, enjoyed everything,
even my own death.

The love for him was different
from anything I had known.

It was a slow ascent,
with pauses...

with phases...

At the very top a flash
goes slowly through me...

and burns the meaning of things,

even their own meaning.

*

I felt almost like being placed
in the world of fairy tales,

sheltered by
that warm yellow blanket.

On a background of purple clouds
and croaking ravens...

appeared the outlines of
the Castle of The Evil Queen.

I never forgot that picture book...

every day I eagerly added
new pictures.

They were all devoted
to The Evil Queen.

This admirable woman,
who polished her mirror...

every day, in order
to look beautiful.

The desire to look beautiful
was her only moral!

To look more beautiful than
Snow White, whose pale face...

only made a bunch of dwarfs
start to dream!

The dazzling light of the castle,

where the evil queen held
her splendid festives,

has led my steps, alone
and shivering through the night.

My path was destined,

I would be Lady M.
whatever would happen.

What is it?
Why are you sad now?

Me?

Nothing!

I was in my "intimate Africa."

"Intimate Africa?"

A phrase from my childhood.

For me it means: dreaming.

In school I had a teacher,
who used to come...

stalking from behind,

pinched me and said:
"Hey, strumpet, you're dreaming."

She was right.

What?

Dreaming is the worst crime.

No,

the worst crime

is to have no "thunes".

- What means "thunes"?
- It means dough, money.

I like the way it's written.

They're talk about those
monastery builders.

Listen:

"They were slaves on earth,
to be free in heaven."

"They were kneeling
and starving here,

to get up there and sit at
the table of the Lord."

Well, but they ended up
fighting against...

the counts of this region,
who lurked on their treasures.

Meanwhile, the monks
moral got spoiled.

Oh! But then had those
who had worked so hard...

been tricked.

They weren't the same.

The decadence came later.

Everything is cyclical.

Things go up, then down,
and then they disappear.

And we now?

I think,

that it goes down.

Hopefully that's not true.

Are you praying?

When night falls, I expect
that the world is praying for me.

You want
that people pray for you?

The people not,

the things,

the sea.

Will you take me to
the Black Virgin?

The Virgin of Montserrat.

- Why do you want to see her?
- Just like that.

She's the only black virgin.

Is it far?

Near Barcelona.

Our laughter was replaced
by a certain seriousness.

I followed the dazzling
reflections from the sky,

on their way through the water
surface to the lower worlds.

Diego also seemed sense the
deeper meaning of the calm water.

Who had said "Dead water is a thick
fluid like blood"?

What are you doing?
- We'll sleep here.

As a boy I hid here once.

My parents were looking for me
for two days,

but didn't find me.

Were you a runaway?

Are you shivering?

No, it's fine.
- But I do.

We'll catch our death here.

Shall we find a hotel?

That would be scandalous...
- Why?

Listen...

Here it's less cold but I'd prefer
to spend a night in the Taj Mahal.

The Taj Mahal...

The Taj Mahal...

The builder of this dwelling
probably dreamed of the Taj Mahal.

Unbelievable.

Look at this!

Want to follow me to hell?

It's better than the Taj Mahal.

It looks romantic, but this smell...

What's that humming in the corner?

I looked, but couldn't find a
beehive nor see any insects.

I also didn't see Diego.
Where could he be?

Oh, my heart...

It felt as if I was sucked
into air holes...

like an airplane that
falls hundreds of meters.

What if Diego had seduced me
only to push me away now?

I didn't want to assume
evil intentions...

maybe he was just
like all the others?

Make promises
and then disappear.

Isn't that common practice?

What had he promised me? Nothing.

Cold sweat ran down my spine.

Actually, it was strange.

A guy who suddenly
just was there?

I had never asked him
many questions, but...

with Diego just so much
was in the dark.

This sudden trip was maybe
rather an escape.

Look, they are doing a restoration.

I'll say goodbye
and come in a moment.

He kept me bound to him...

hanging on the edge of an abyss.

He pauses during lovemaking...

like a swimmer,
with the sky above,

pauses in order to breathe,

before he continues swimming,

further,

and further.

I love you.

I love you too.

Since when did we make love?

He asked me if I could
feel him deep inside me.

I didn't answer.
A dizziness came over me,

like on a motorcycle,
that accelerates too fast.

It felt as if...

we were at the heart of a moment,

without beginning
and never ending.

Swallows chased each other
playful outside the window.

They let themselves fall like stones,

only to stop loud screaming
in the last moment,

before they took another direction,

this time towards the upper abyss.

Did you like
when men look at me?

Yes, I like it,

but I can't stand rudeness.

At the end of the day
we came to the Ebro Delta.

The geometric lines of the rice fields
reached as far as the eyes could see.

The only inhabitants of the
area appeared to be frogs.

A wet sun painted the horizon
in a yellow and purple frenzy.

A river throws itself into the sea,

like a man who dies in a woman.

"I love the delta at the bottom
of your belly", he murmured.

I'm uncertain whether it was
Diego's comment.

I already loved this area,

where Earth, Water and Air
melt together.

I felt as if my life depended on
these few centimeters of skin...

that he caressed while driving.

I had put fear and doubts
aside concerning Diego.

We seemed to drive on
solid ground as well as on water.

This is called a Fata Morgana.

He asked me to spread my legs.

The vitality of his eyes seemed
to be passed on to his mouth,

full and glorious.

His face was motionless,
like a statue.

I'd like...

to be even more naked
in front of this stone face.

Do you know that the Arabs
shave their sex?

Really?

Always?

Well, I don't know. But often.

Finally, we saw the residents.
They were not only frogs.

The alcohol was already
in the veins of the men,

who waited in the cafe for their wives,
who were in church.

That's it.

Life is sometimes complicated.

Why didn't you tell me?

- She knows it.
- But... and I?

A man who has two houses,
will loose his mind.

He who has two wives,
will loose his soul.

Then there are certainly many
who's souls are lost.

You don't choose the moment
of an encounter.

And when it happens
what should we do?

Abstain from it?

Of millions of people,

who pass by,

only 2 or 3 stop.

So you stop too.

The chances in life...

a day in Paris...

the rain, the Kismet, and you.

We walked half the night.

And you come to Barcelona.

I knew it.

Should I have sent you away?

Is she African?

Parisian. She was my model
when I worked in Paris.

What's her name?

Nuria.

And the little girl's called Billie.

It was as if my life passed
very fast in front of my eyes.

All these girls had stories
which were at the same time...

exemplary, mysterious, frightening,
criminal, sublime and touching.

Life continued
on the terrace of the café.

All things needed were there...

a flowered blouse,
rather well filled,

jokes and laughter everywhere.

My senses seemed amplified
in order to torture me even more.

I just wanted to sleep.

And when I later...

would wake up,

I would realise
that the whole story with the photo,

the child and the woman,

just was a bad image
from a nightmare.

The sweet smell of the mud
reminds me of my childhood.

I don't care about my childhood.

At least I claim that.

What helps me hover
high above the ground...

are those rare moments...

where you inhale
the smell of the air,

of the algae, or,

the sweetness' of the mud,

which reminds of death,

and lets you feel eternity.

Are you sad?

No. Actually I'm rather happy.

No sarcasm please.

Have you seen that guy
who collects snails there?

And me,

do you see me?

What do you see in me?

The sweet smell in the Delta
had touched me deeply.

I wanted him even more.

In the pale light of the full moon...

the place appeared
as a mirror...

of what I had seen in the afternoon.

Did I walk through the mirror?

"Your dream looked at me."

This short sentence haunted me...

and I tried to remember,
who had written it.

I could have recorded
and made a song out of it.

Let's make love, and then you
drive me back to Barcelona.

What do you think?

I'm not a love tourist.

I want to live with you.

I love you.

I love you too.

I want to live with you.

Let's make love, and then you
drive me back to Barcelona.

The worst part with going away is
always when you come back again.

Since I was back in Paris,

There seemed to be even more
dog's muck on the sidewalks,

and everything I ate,
tasted cardboard.

I couldn't stay with Diego,
But not be without him either.

This morning
I pulled myself together.

I made a desperate

and slightly absurd act.

Here's my message:

I can't live without you.
Come. Stop.

I can't live without you.
Come...

with Nuria... and Billie,
if you want.

I'm waiting for you.

It seemed highly unlikely,
But 14 days later they came.

I didn't know
what they wanted.

"Don't worry, we'll see,"
I decided philosophically.

Perhaps Nuria rather wanted
a rival than a ghost.

She'd amaze me yet many times.

- Did you find it easily?
- Yes.

Sit down.

I'll make tea.

Don't you have a beer?

I always have beer for the musicians,
when we practice here.

Thank you.

I always tell myself:
I should drink beer.

It's the drink of the rockers.

But I just can't.

How was the trip?

Are you tired?

Want to rest?

I've prepared a room upstairs.

Aren't you tired?

No, not at all.

You'll sleep good here.

It's a little soft.

I'm done.

Just use all the cosmetics you find here.
The towels are also there.

Can we have some music
to fall asleep?

Of course.
I'll put on a record.

What should I put on?
- What you want.

How long are babies breastfed?

It's different.
I don't have much milk anymore,

but she gets relaxed from it.

I want her to fall asleep,
she was so early up this morning.

I have a duplicate key so you
can come and go as you like.

I must go.

We're practising.

Diego, why do you believe me?

There's a small green piano
standing in the corner.

Just look.

Look.

Didn't Monet paint a small
green piano in the corner?

- There?
- Yes, there.

What do you see?

Billie, look. Don't you believe
that Monet painted...

a piano in his "Tryptique aux lilas"?

What a nonsense, you should
better clog your ears!

Better listen to nonsense
than being deaf.

Let me see.

You see it...

open your eyes,
to the right there,

isn't it a piano?

To the right
what's wrong with you?

That's not a piano.
It's a "piano-mouche".

You can't say "piano-mouche"
only "bateau-mouche".

We have eaten. We didn't know
when you'd come home.

Want to eat something?

No thanks, I'm not hungry.

I'll buy stamps.

There's a pinball machine,
shall we play?

Can you take Billie?

Not like this
she isn't made of sugar.

First time I hold a baby.

But no...

You've never
held a baby in your arms?

No, really.

I can't believe it.

- No sisters, no nephews...
- No, none at all.

We were seven at home.

When my parents were asleep,
the whole house was shaking.

Not like this.

Let's start once more.

- Did you see how she does it?
- What?

We aren't close enough.

The audience should see
everything of us all...

even the hair of Marie, the hips of
Nanou, the breasts by Gladys...

Shall I move my hips
like an Oriental?

Think I'm born in couscous?

Come on,
couscous isn't in the menu.

Well let's try again.
We really need work together.

Nuria seemed very interested.

I felt even more naked
under her eyes as at the day

where I had sacrificed
my pubic hair to Diego.

During the exercise you talked
like a computer.

I'm programmed to...

produce sounds and to
make eights with my hips.

I'm proud of it.

It's actually the only thing
that comforts me in life,

the scandal life.

What scandal?

That you and I are just
zombies or even criminal.

Zombies?

Yes, those who come out
of graves in horror films.

Stop it, you'll wake up Billie.

Zombies were already dead
when they were alive...

because they protected
themselves against life.

And criminals?

That's what we are. You and me.

The whole world is criminal.

We much more than the others.

The guilt...

the spoils everything.

And she?

You'd be surprised
you would know her better.

You think you know her well?

No one knows anyone.

The truth is a mystery.

And she,

what did she think of all this?

A strong force pulled me into the
spiral of another life,

and still uncertain... I met...

a mystery with slit eyes,

through which you could see the night,

and a breast that feeded a child.

I lacked the courage to...

ask this sphynx for advice.

Nuria seemed entirely lost
in contemplating the fire.

Who was she since she
wasn't zombie and...

not a criminal either?

She looked like a Goddess of the Earth,

for a God of Fertility.

It's full.

I'll empty it.

I don't know whose
hand guided me,

but suddenly I was in their arms,
like a blade of grass,

that moved under the
warm breath of the two,

completely drunken of pleasure.

Curiosity and excitement
confused me.

We were at the same time
so similar and so different.

All this was possible only...

because we loved the same man.

I met her through Diego's body.

My heart was beating intensely.

I had never touched
a woman's body before.

And I discovered it's tenderness
with the same amazement I had...

felt for the splendour of a meadow
of buttercups when I was five.

Back then I couldn't imagine
that the beauty of the world...

could also loose its glory.

I saw her batting under
Diego beats.

I saw the earth...

and the depth of the oceans.

Then she turned around
and moaned,

and I wished that Diego
had hold back his lust.

Then he came into me,
still wet from her.

And I was all gone, even as...

blade of grass, I no longer existed.

I realized how...

vulnerable...

and yet indestructible I was.

Who'd have thought that I would
sleep between Diego and Nuria?

And for a whole week already.

Last night I noticed Nuria's face.

She has a unique way...

to lift her eyes to heaven during
lovemaking, so that she looks like...

a Madonna with wax tears
in painful ecstasy.

What's up?

Stop it. You have.

You've got a problem in your head.

You've got a problem.
Give back my papers.

Come on go.
You fool, you shitty guy.

Did they share something
I would never participate in?

And if one day I would be
like all the others...

who weigh children behind
lightened windows...

while I walk towards a
well-lit roundabout?

But before I can claim...

these lights, I have to...
conquer the darkness.

Terrible.

Where was my place?

On the other side of the mirror?

The price we had to pay,
to get to the other side,

to the other side of life,

is very high for a mirror.

Here was my place!

All my life I'll sleep
near an amplifier...

- What are you doing here?
- You scared me.

- I'm going to close.
- I want to stay here.

- You want to sleep here?
- Yes, I'd like that.

- Come with me, I have a room.
- No, I'm not in the mood.

I'll give you the keys. I'll be back
tomorrow at noon and knock three times.

Don't let anyone in.
Watch out for the big evil wolf.

Sweet dreams.
- Thank you.

Terrible!

- Is there any coffee?
- In the pan.

That's cat pee!
I can't drink it!

Is there no more coffee?

I'll make tea.

This is terrible.

I can't be everywhere, in the Kismet,

shopping, keeping the house
and then even feed them all.

Did you see the teapot?

Not there. It's over there.

Damn.
Haven't you seen the teapot?

When you came to Barcelona...

and Diego told me
he wanted to travel with you,

I thought I'd smash
my head against the wall.

Nuria, my sister, my mother,
my love, my revolt!

You, who move the hips
as well as the stars.

Help me that I don't
become a dry tree.

She heard my prayer.

I felt that life...

came from her warm lips
back into me.

Mine were still paralysed,
like those of a drowned person.

I wanted to shout out my despair...

that I gave up Diego
and had hurt her.

I'd have liked to cry
like the swallows,

who were so mad in the dawn
of the Catalan countryside.

The time that stopped
when Diego was inside me.

Those moments
without beginning or end.

The huge night,

where you had to dissolve,
in order to be reborn in the light.

I'd have given her everything,

everything that carried
the name of my beloved,

everything I'd never
have again,

and what tore me in pieces.

My body was like
the inside of those figs,

that I loved to nick in the end
of summer along the roadsides.

There were no more fruits,
but sweet confection.

What scandal!

Then I came perhaps a little too hard,

and she laughed.

Normal,

eventually I was
an outlaw.

Now comes the most impressive part.

- When it goes up?
- Yes.

Won't you try the roller coaster?

You aren't afraid of anything.

I am. It's the thrill of danger.

Yes, life is dangerous!

Diego told us today that
he had to return to Barcelona.

He said he wanted to paint.

Nuria decided to stay.

In her was also something broken.

Billie, look,

I've met a friend.

Give him to her later.

She's been drinking
and is fallen asleep.

I wonder how it feels.

It's so...

like an animal.

And you, fool'
you're not an animal?

Yes, but one for the stage!

I was told I didn't want
to be breastfeed.

It's never too late to try.

- How you mean?
- Want to try?

Do you know why they earlier,

I mean,

long ago,

in prehistoric times...

What then?

Why men thought
their wives were witches?

They didn't see a connection
between making love...

and making children.

- Really?
- Yes, sure.

Have you seen my shoe?

Shit, I'm late
to sign the contract...

And where you're going on tour?

Where we're going!
You'll come with too!

First to Brussels,

that will do us good,
to come out of this galley,

and then many other cities.

Impossible.

What's impossible?

You're sweet, but I can't...

But... listen...

Why not?

- You can!
- It's impossible.

I can't live like you do.

I can't go from hotel to hotel
with a baby.

You're my sweetheart.

Billie and you will be my family.

I have only you.

I have only you too.

What are you looking for?

I can't find the tickets.

Hurry up,
The train leaves in 5 minutes.

And Nanou?

She hasn't come yet.
Where is she?

I'd like to know that.

There they are.

Sorry, girls,

but I was argueing with
an impossible guy.

Come on,
you can tell us in the train.

She remained inside me,

just as I left her on the platform.

I should have tried once more
to persuade her...

Only a cloud of perfume remained...

whirling wildly
in the glare of a spotlight.

The Lady M disappeared one after
the other behind the curtain,

to the other side...

to the another reality.

Madam, can you please open?

Oh, you're too small...

I wondered if Billie maybe
had a new tooth.

I was cold.

Stalactites hang down from my eyes.

I didn't feel good.

Six months later,
I went to Barcelona.

I didn't dare to come close
to Calle Portavedra 35.

I was scared.

I didn't know why.

I had the feeling
of making a mistake.

I had learned to travel light'
without luggage.

I had freed myself of all things,
I kept only the one uppercase letter.

M had to go forward
without looking back.

Finally my curiosity won...

I wanted to know
what had become of them.

I had to know.

Hello, I'm looking for Diego.

Yes, Diego lives with Nuria...

they have a baby, Billie.

Nobody has heard of them,
I would know it.

Nuria is a coloured women...

No, they don't live here.

I've visited them here.

Must be a long time ago.

I had expected everything,
just not this.

This woman lived
at the same location,

and she claimed that she had
never seen them, never known them.

That evening I walked through
the large body of Barcelona...

as if it was the body of a lover.

On my skin I feel
the warm breath of the city...

like the breath of a mouth,
from which words of love come

I threw myself into the odour
of lime trees on Rambla de Catalunya,

like you can hide your face
in flowing mane.

Much later I received a letter
from Diego from South America.

He had married a Peruvian woman,
and was living there now.

From Nuria, nothing...

never more any message.

Never ever.

I'd give everything to
to meet her again.

Translation:
The Huge Animal From The North

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