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Are you coming with us,
Mr. Scavarda?

OK, very well.

Yes?

We can go.

Your papers. They're real.
And some Brazilian money.

Thank you.

Games of Power

A cigarette?

Excuse me?

I asked
if you wanted a cigarette.

Maybe you wanted to smoke.

It's awful.
We're forced to go out.

I thought
it'd stop me from gambling.

But it didn't rid me
of any vice -

I still smoke and gamble.

I wanted to be alone.

Oh, I'm sorry. I...

You gamble here often?

I don't gamble.
I'm a wedding guest.

Right.
They do weddings here, too.

Is alcohol still legal?

Yes, but I don't drink, anyway.

Are you an alcoholic?

Joseph Paskin.

Pierre Blum.

Pierre Blum...
Are you Jewish?

Wait...
In less than two minutes,

you asked if I was a gambler,
alcoholic and Jewish.

I told you, I have every vice.

I'm very curious about people.

Don't worry, I have no bias.

Although your name rings a bell...
Pierre Blum.

It's a pretty common name.

Are you a lawyer?

- No.
- I am a member of the Paris Bar.

I thought we might have met
at the courthouse.

I've never been in a courthouse.

Your face looks familiar.

Yes, I think it's your face.

- Are you in politics?
- No.

I don't gamble, I'm not Jewish
and I'm not in politics.

I'm someone quite ordinary,

and I don't think we ever met.

Thank you,

have a good night.
- You too.

I don't want to run
into my ex-wife and her son.

- Who's not yours.
- He's not mine.

I talk to my ex-wife
as little as possible.

I mean, my ex-wives.

That's three alimonies to pay.

I talk with her often.

But I don't want to see her now.

How's the new husband?

Are you a cop or a lawyer?

I meet a lot of cops,
but that's it.

What do you do, then?

Basically,

my job consists in doing favors.

- You get paid for that?
- Big sums.

I have huge expenses.

What kind of favors?

Any kind.
It's quite complicated.

To sum up,

I put people in touch,
in France and abroad.

I see.

- And that's a job?
- Yes.

There are quite a few of us.

And the Republic works thanks to us.

- What do you do?
- I'm not sure I should answer.

I don't do much anymore.

I wrote a book 10 years ago.

I got royalties,
and then I stopped getting royalties.

In other words, you need money.

Don't be proud, we all need it.

I make a good living,

but on nights like this,
I never have enough.

What was your book about?

Well... A coming-of-age novel.
Paris, the '90s.

Some politics.

I was very promising.

And, eventually, not at all.

My novel became posthumous
in my lifetime.

Give me your cell number.

The people I help

need writers to write their books.

Would you be a ghost writer?

You've nothing against them,
have you?

No, I don't think so.

I was a journalist.
I can be a ghost.

Ghost writers talk less bullshit
than journalists.

They know when they're on orders.

Write down the title of your book.

OK, thank you.

I will read your novel.

If it's... well...

professional enough,

I will contact you. Alright?
- Alright.

Thank you.

Pierre?

Are you OK?

Sure.
Why wouldn't I be?

You had the same look
at my wedding.

- Your other wedding?
- Yes. My "other" wedding.

This time, I'm not in love
with the bride.

Bye.

You should tell your friends
if you change

your number and address.
It's a good thing

I have resources.

I read your book.
Let's meet as soon as possible.

You really going to read that?

I'm leafing through.

Right.
No one reads that stuff.

I mean, not through to the end.

Why are you skimming over it?

It's on a list
of recommended authors.

- By whom?
- A teacher.

- Philosophy?
- Yes.

Then don't read it.

- It's not good?
- No.

You don't know him.

I met Scavarda 15 years ago.
He was an ass.

An ass?
I'd be surprised.

You really knew Scavarda?

- You majored in philosophy?
- No.

I met him
because my ex-wife was a leftist.

The alter-globalist kind.

Any idea where he went?

Far away, I hope.

Somewhere he can't write anymore.

That's awful.

Who are you to say he sucks?

What do you do for a living?

Right now, I do nothing.

But I was a writer.

They sell your books here?

Yeah.

Let's go see. There are always
some secondhand ones.

So the guy left a note at your door.

That's right.

And you're going to meet him?

Well, yeah.
I'll see what he has to offer.

He's following you.

Do you see anyone now?

No, I don't.

It won't hurt to work a little.

I guess not.

- You don't do anything at all?
- No.

- And you're not a student?
- No.

I'm a bit old for that, aren't I?

What about social security?

Social security
is a student obsession.

I don't have that.

- Isn't it mandatory?
- Yes.

And you're an anarchist?

You worry about a health card?

Anarchists get sick.

You must be healthy to fight.

You're just like my ex-wife.

You want to overturn the system,
but work for the state.

Here comes the ex again.

My friend says,

"There's always
a body in the closet".

What's yours?
Let's talk about it right away.

There's no body or closet.
Or home, for that matter.

That's impossible.

You hit on me at the bookstore.

You play the cynical,
confident guy.

But you won't do anything.

You look traumatized.

Why bring me here?

It's where I kissed my wife
for the first time.

See?

You still love her?

Yes, probably.

Not like
when we were together, but...

Yes, I love her.

She's my only friend.

I'll be off.
I depress myself.

Return this to the bar.

We're not sleeping together.

- Bye.
- Shall we meet again?

Read my book and write me.

I'm more fun than Scavarda.

I don't have your address.

Goodbye.

May I help you, sir?

- Where's the bar?
- On your left.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

Hello.

Hello.

Tell me,

I didn't know you were a has-been.

You got some press attention.

You even sold a few copies.

An afterword by Martine Decoud.

You should've been a star.
What happened?

- Sir?
- A cup of tea, please.

I got divorced.

I stopped seeing people.

I had projects for books
but I couldn't write any.

I didn't see the point.

I didn't feel
I would be writing for the living.

I'd end up
selling articles by the kilo.

Disposable articles.

You're a proud man.
The times aren't worthy of you.

That's not really what I said,

but...

Perhaps, yes.

That's not how I felt.

I felt very alone
when my book came out.

Despite the good reviews, I...

I had social status, but that's not
what I was looking for.

So you never wrote again?

No. Nothing at all.

Thank you.

There's a very interesting...

passage.

I mean, I like it.

It's this one...

I can't...
OK, here it is.

"Mathieu closed the booklet,

"delicately assembled by hand

"rather than on..."

No, wait.
It's further on.

Yes, here it is.

"Mathieu thought
that 200 years of debates, fighting,

"coups, massacres and heroic acts

"had produced nothing

"but perfectly written
150-page books

"of delectable accuracy.

"Nothing more.

"In short, the ambition
to change the world

"had led to the birth
of a literary subgenre".

Which is not that bad.

Promising people who give nothing

always interest me.

I like disappointing people.
I was a disappointment myself.

Say, the girl in your book,
Claire,

is she the woman at the casino?

The woman you divorced?

It's a simple question.
Not an interrogation.

I know.

I must admit...

what I love about life is gossip.

Claire is a mix of my ex
and another woman.

I asked because Claire

was involved
in silly political stuff.

I wanted to know if you

used to hang out
with far-left folk.

Yes. I used to see
extreme left-wingers.

And today?

Today, I don't.

I fell out with the friends
I had 15 years ago.

I hardly see anyone nowadays.

I just disappeared.

Take it easy -

it's very difficult to disappear.

What does your ex-wife do?

She works in an art gallery.

Does she own it?

No. She's in charge,
but she doesn't finance it.

We didn't meet
at the casino by chance.

How did you get my address?
No one has it.

I told you -
it's very difficult to disappear.

It can even draw attention.

Do you know A. Villermet?

The Secretary of Homeland Security.

You work for him?

I'm sorry for the troubles
of the last few days.

How can I put this?

A modern state
is in permanent tension.

Rival factions
have conflicting objectives.

Everything's quiet for a while.
But every 15 years,

there are wars, purges.

Today, we are on the brink
of a state of war.

And you want me to fight.

I refused 15 years ago.

Most civil wars are invisible.

And this kind of war

has always been an insiders' affair.

Who's fighting who nowadays?

It would be too long
and boring to explain.

- And I'm not an insider.
- Exactly.

To put it simply...

In the next few weeks,

I'll have to wipe out the Secretary
and his allies.

Everything's going well so far.
See?

Homeland Security involved
in Marco Scavarda's escape

I'm winning the first rounds,

but it's going to get ugly.

One must never get carried away.

I need your services.

Rest assured -

you won't have to rob
or spy on anyone.

I need you to write a book.

A call to insurrection.

Write a masterpiece

of the subgenre you discovered.

I doubted the revolution
15 years ago.

That doesn't make me an agitator.

No one will know that you wrote it.

You won't miss Villermet.

Or your old friends.

I'm sorry, I'm meeting a friend.

- Goodbye.
- I don't know what to say.

I decline.

You won't be a bastard or a traitor.

I'll send you 15,000 euros,
you send me your text.

- OK?
- 15,000 euros?

20,000, if you say yes right now.

- Insurrection?
- Make it credible.

Something sharp,
with guns and gangs.

OK? Perfect.

But you must condemn
violence against people

and advise sabotage of all kinds.

Power plants,
railways, telephone lines,

TV stations,
whatever inspires you.

I won't think for you,
you must earn your pay.

It's on me.
You've been paying for years.

- Are you sure?
- Yes.

You know I'm not that proud.

Besides, I'm working.

What are you doing?

I'm revising stuff.

You said you wouldn't do that.

Every 15 years,
I have powerful whims.

Stop ridiculing everything.

It was attractive at one time,
but not anymore.

It's like stains -

at 20, you're Rimbaud,
at 40, a filthy boy.

Let me brush that away.

There.

Right. Shall we go?

You're staying at Martine's?

Her niece kicked me out.

I'm living in a room
some guy lent me.

He needs it back.

That means I'm virtually homeless.

She kicked you out?
Can she do that?

I've no rights over her apartment.

I wasn't going to wait for the cops,
so I took off.

- There you go.
- Thanks.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

We're preparing an exhibition.
Want to come?

OK, but I won't stay long.

What's up with Martine?

I don't want to talk about it.

She's sick.
Her family wants me gone.

They made her sign stuff.

You can't let them do that.

It's no use.

Martine's 90.
She's going to die.

Her family
will fight over the inheritance.

There's nothing you can do, ever.

OK, don't fight the rich,

but you're willing
to freeze to death

to show that my friends were wrong?

I'm sorry, you piss me off.

Come on now.

Julien said you looked relaxed
at the wedding.

Really?
Of course I was relaxed.

I've a clear conscience.
He stole my wife.

- Hold on.
- It's not ready,

but...
- Caro,

Laura's waiting in your office.

- I'll be right back.
- Yes.

No, the tenth.

OK, call me in 10 minutes.
Thank you.

- There were 3.
- One's missing.

The orange one, with the sheep.

- Big letters?
- Yes.

OK, but where is it?

Probably at the back...

Hello.

Pierre?

Laura and I
have some things to discuss.

- Pierre, Laura.
- Hello.

Hello.

Come see the exhibition.
It opens next month.

You'll like it.

Haven't we met here before?

No, never.

But I read your book.

I remember I hated it.

I see.

He's thrilled.

He can't stand people saying
good things about his book.

- OK, bye.
- Bye.

- See you soon, maybe.
- Maybe.

Caroline? It's me.

Did you know
your gallery's being watched?

Of course I'm worried.

You knew?

You don't care
having the police around?

OK, fine.

Also,

what was the name of the girl...

Yes. Laura. Great.

How do you spell it?

She's English?
She has no accent.

She lives
with Louis and his friends?

I mean, his followers.

In the eco-friendly Stalinist farm?

Unbelievable.

How many are they?
A hundred?

This is going to end in
mass immolation at winter solstice.

Yes, OK.

Bye now. Take care.

Let's say a congressman

wants to pass a law.
The law is a pretext.

What matters is,
he'll exist through it.

- OK.
- Well,

he would like someone
- an expert, if possible -

to write about it,
saying it's a useless law,

an outrage to the Republic.

If another author supports him,

so much the better.

That means his law
resonates in the public sphere.

If more books
come out on the same subject,

that's even better.

Say a book comes out
and someone's upset.

I'll be asked for books
on the same subject.

- To disprove it.
- No.

To muddy the message
of the first book.

To be one version among others,

so people say,
"To each their own truth".

Freedom of speech
is more effective than censorship

to silence what mustn't be heard.

I'll tell you a secret.

Well? Your secret?

Ah, yes. The secret.

There's no such thing
as a public sphere.

People like me make it.

It is usually an empty shell.

Chaos.
Anything goes on there.

By small touches,
I direct it, I shape it.

Here.
It's beautiful, isn't it?

It cost an arm and a leg.

It's a model.

This book is a move of what game?

It's not just about the secretary.

You're partly right.

Villermet doesn't mean much for now.

He's only the tip of a new network

of economic and strategic interests.

He's a nuisance for us all.

You're not much either.

Exactly. We are all part
of a larger whole.

So, nothing personal?

He makes me lose money and power.

There is no way
our two networks can coexist.

Right now, our aim

is to make him look incompetent.

I even have a nickname for him -

"the playground Machiavelli".

I'll use it in the next few days.

And the book?

It's a call to insurrection
for leftists

who've been
under surveillance.

Louis' group?

That's why you contacted me?

You're not particularly fond
of this Louis guy, anyway.

The police are watching them?

Many units, even.

Wiretaps, stakeouts,
undercover agents...

The whole shebang.

Millions of euros of taxpayers' money
squandered.

They are completely harmless.

In any case, Louis and his group

will soon have problems with the law.

What do you mean?

Don't worry,
the procedure is very fragile.

And that's my point.

My target isn't Louis but Villermet,

whose anti-terrorist action
will be laughed at.

They'll spend a few days in jail.

In jail?

Yes.

The police are going to raid
the conspirators' lair.

They'll spend Christmas in court

or in a cell.
- But when?

It should happen the day after
a Villermet speech on extremism

in Dijon.

Why Dijon? Who knows.

Come on, get a grip.

To write like him,

some practice was necessary.

I enjoyed reading your novel
and your militant book.

See you soon.

Letters From Afar

A New Beginning

Sociology

Is the revolution imminent?

New revolutionary thoughts

The end of an era?

Libération
Itinerary of a Letter

General, I've always been
a political journalist.

I know what I'm talking about.

There's no such thing
as a political journalist.

You know nothing
and when you do, you can't say it.

If I'm not a political journalist,
then what am I?

I don't know.

Something more like a...

sports commentator.

You comment on games
and then make predictions.

Don't exaggerate, sir.

Politics is about three things
that are unrelated.

First, governance.
Governance is above all

the loss of power of representatives,

and an administration

that tries to organize its own ruin
as best it can.

Copeau knows a thing or two about it.

Second,

the competition between politicians.

You write about that.

So-and-so beating Thingummy
in the polls,

Thompson winning the election

rather than Thomson,
if it were held today.

And so on and so forth.

It's like reporting on...

the soccer leagues.

And then, the elections.

Elections in France
are a very simple thing.

Leftists vote
when we're not left enough,

and rightists vote
when we're not right enough.

In the end,

for purely demographic reasons,
we get a result.

Social peace in France
rests upon the fact

that these three
strictly unrelated facts

are unified

by a democratic ideology.

People pretend to believe

they have a hold
on these processes.

You can't say that.
There are different visions.

Of course. The right talks
about preventing petty crime,

whereas the left

pulls gay marriage out of its hat.

And that's it.

I mean, I have nothing
against one or the other -

it's all a question

of what we call "politics".

I'm sorry, I'm have to leave.

Joseph?

Thanks.
I owe you one.

You're making a mistake, Joseph.

It's me or them.

Villermet is too big a shot
for you alone.

- Isn't he?
- I've got good aim.

Sit down, Joseph.

You want to take Villermet's place
as Secretary?

You shouldn't bet on Villermet.

He won't last the winter.

I don't know what you're up to,

but you should stop.
You'll fail.

I like you.
We've known each other for years.

I'll make you an offer.

You speak for Villermet?

We agree, and he knows
the harm he's caused you.

But friendships and alliances
must evolve over time.

So, here it is:

stop your moves against us

and we'll erase your recent acts
from the slate.

Here's proper compensation.

You have chosen war, then.

Too bad, Joseph.

Too bad for you.

I am neither Caesar nor Robespierre.

I'm not a megalomaniac
and I had a price.

You'll regret the contents
of that envelope.

Know what your problem is, Joseph?

You can't stop playing.

- Thank you.
- Thanks.

Hello?

Yes?

I'll call you back.

Yes. I'm almost home now.

I have to make some phone calls.

Pierre? This is...
This is Joseph.

I have to speak to you.

There's a problem.
Several big problems.

Quite obviously...

my entourage
is being targeted tonight.

I wanted to make sure
everything was OK on your end.

Hey, what's up?

What's the matter? Relax!

- What?
- Stay away.

You're going to screw it up.

No I'm not,
I just want to talk to you.

Boys and the police view
of history...

Aren't you over
sexual differentiation

in your circles?

Reality can contradict theory.

Louis was never afraid
of contradiction.

You live with his group
in the country?

Yes.

I know your record.

The brawl in Venice,
September 11, 2001.

Caroline told me.

- Shut up!
- Stop it!

- Stop!
- Shut the fuck up!

Get him!

So, you enjoy writing
and not signing?

You little pussy.

How much did he pay you?

How much
did Joseph Paskin pay you?

Leave Paris and don't come back.
Or else, we'll kill you.

Those two over there.

- Hello.
- Hello.

"Hello, you have reached
Joseph Paskin.

"Leave a message..."

- Are you OK?
- I'll be fine.

What's all this
about police provocation?

Those guys were led by cops.

They told me things
they're not supposed to know.

What did they say?

They told me to leave Paris,
or they'd kill me.

You think they mean it?

I don't know. I guess.

I'd better lie low for a while.

- What are you going to do?
- Where will you go?

Want to come with me?

No one will look for you.

"Hello, you have reached
Joseph Paskin.

"Leave a message after the beep".

Did you reach your contact?

No. I'll try again later.

We can lend you a cell phone.

- Sébastien took it.
- Damn.

You can use it
when he comes back.

Alright?

- Laura said it was urgent.
- That's fine.

- OK.
- Thanks.

- See you later.
- Bye.

Hey.

Oh, hi.

Thomas.

Pierre.

You say hello to everybody
except me.

Well, no.

"Well, no".

You don't say hello to anybody?

I'm kidding.

OK, bye.

Well, I don't like it.

She's trying.
She does things on her own.

How many people live here?

You a cop?
Want to file a report on us?

Want some soup, Pierre?

Yes, thank you.

Between 12 and 14.

2 less because Claire and Louis
are in Paris.

- They're back tomorrow.
- Thanks.

You're Laura's friend?

Yes. A recent friend.

Thank you.

He used to be Louis' friend.

When did you last see him?

Careful, he's her boyfriend.

We met about 10 or 15 years ago.

You haven't talked in a decade?

He never forgives, you know.

It's a dumb question,
but have you any newspapers?

- No.
- A radio?

- No.
- TV?

We refuse all contact
with bourgeois media.

We don't know
who the president is.

There's a radio over there.
The TV's for the kids.

If you want papers,
Thomas does the shopping.

He goes to the village.

Thanks for your hospitality.

If you think you're ready,
then do it.

I had a 2CV at the time.

I'd load fifty crowbars or so.

Pierre?

Are you alright?

You're exhausted.

Come on, you need to rest.

OK.

You've barely slept.
After what happened yesterday...

I think you'll prefer this
to Foucault...

Have a good rest.
And here's the cell.

There's some dinner left.
Laura

Stevenson
The Master of Ballantrae

"SFR advises

"the number you've dialed
is not in service".

I was going to look around.

- Have you eaten?
- I'm not hungry.

Louis isn't here?

He's hiding.

- Does he know I'm here?
- Yeah, he knows.

Friends are welcome, anyway.

I don't smoke, but...
I could use a cigarette.

I'll get you one.

Thank you.

It's funny
we never met before.

I see Caroline alone.
I see people alone.

I don't like groups.

I saw one here long ago.

And I haven't seen Louis
in 15 years, so, no.

I never saw you.

What did you do before?
You were in England?

Yes. I did the first part
of my studies in London.

Sociology.

I gradually
turned towards anthropology,

in Paris.

What are you doing now?

A dissertation.

Nice.
A dissertation on what?

The State and primitive peoples.

Inspired by P. Clastres.

- You know him?
- Yes.

I read Society Against the State.

It didn't really interest me.

I don't like people, but...
I like the anonymity in cities.

Only the modern, omnipresent state

grants such anonymity.

In fact,

I think I hate community spirit.

In Ardèche or Amazonia.

I won't debate that.

Caroline says you hate
social sciences.

She doesn't know me that well.

We rarely see each other.
What did she say about me?

Nothing.

She tells me about old times.

The people you met.

When Scavarda
used to make spaghetti at Louis'.

And then Genoa, the demos.
All that stuff.

I don't remember anything.
It's terrifying.

Scavarda had slipped my mind
until he fled to Brazil.

Caroline says
you weren't into revolution.

She probably wasn't either.

I don't know.

Guys like Scavarda or our parents

can talk about the 60s and 70s,
and share memories.

Saying the same about the 90s
would be absurd.

I don't share the 90s
or 2000s with anyone.

In fact,

I have the feeling that time
hasn't really passed for us.

We just got older.

For some reason, nothing
was etched in history.

I may be wrong, but...

- Did you know Scavarda?
- Quite well.

We didn't get along.

I thought he was...

a pain.

Moralistic and dogmatic.

I found his texts
poorly written, tortuous

and far-fetched.

He probably thought
I was arrogant.

Old guys who hang out with kids
are interested in girls.

Do you like his work?

Some of his books are important.

Without him and others,

I wouldn't be here.

I mean, living on this farm.

Why are you here?

At some point, you need balance
between ideas and life.

Not all of us want to give up
like you did.

I don't want to live
in the current system.

No need to elaborate,
you know what it is.

You're not stupid.

So, what do we do?

We create
an alternative way of life.

We write some theory, but...

Above all, we try to develop
new ways of working.

The world as we know it
will collapse,

so...

We provide for ourselves

with the help of those
who live with us, the locals.

I'm not saying...

this will take us somewhere.

But we take action.

We live.

Someone said that nowadays,

it's better to have
your own garden.

Jaime Semprun.

He says a gardening manual
is more useful than a rebellion book.

See? You are interested.

We think we can do both.

People have always said
I'm inactive.

That's why women leave me.

No.

No one leaves a man for that.

They leave you
because they don't trust you.

The problem is,

you don't seem attached to anything.

Except your own irony.

It's attractive at first,
and then less so.

Love these days...

do you know what it is?

Marriage.

Finding an apartment.

Having a kid, getting a divorce.

Meeting someone,
starting all over again and dying.

Senseless, isn't it?

So we try to build something
with friends.

Friends?

You'll say I don't get attached.

It's not about attachment.

There's more than just feelings.

There's a contract.

And we're bound by this contract.

If they were locked up,
would you want to be with them?

Yeah.

Yes, of course.

It's not happened yet,

although it could happen any day now.

I wouldn't be able to live like this.

Or be bound by a contract.

You're an artist,

captivated by the intimacy and moods

of the bourgeoisie.

Why not? If it suits you,
it must be comfortable.

No.
I haven't written anything in years.

Even if you feel
like you hate yourself.

You're OK with it.

Even when you fail.

You just seem to be
out of touch with life.

You've taken a step aside.

I'm sorry.

When a woman tells me the truth,
I want to kiss her.

Goodnight, Pierre.

- Hi.
- Alright?

- How're you?
- Good.

Did you sleep well?

- Help us out.
- OK.

Hi.

OK, Rémi?

Alright?

Wait, let me fix this first.

Not bad at all.

- Ready, guys?
- Ready.

- Ready?
- Here we go.

Pull the horse.

One, two, three.

- Keep going.
- Come on.

Come on!

- There.
- Come on!

- Yeah.
- Wow!

I've no idea. Hey, Louis!

- I believe you know each other.
- Yes.

We even said hello.

- Did you like the day?
- Yes, absolutely.

A true moment
of Orwellian "common decency".

No irony intended.

For once "Orwellian" is used
in a positive way.

- You know my father?
- No.

- This is Pierre Blum.
- Oh.

- Pierre Blum.
- Pleasure.

I saw you from a distance,
I wasn't sure.

I remember your book.

Are you close to Martine Decoud?

Yes, absolutely.

What're you working on?

- It's complicated.
- Dinner's ready!

- Here's to you.
- Cheers.

By the way...

Have you heard
from Martine Decoud?

I read she was at her worst.

I haven't seen her for weeks.
Her family's taking care of her.

I see.

At least she's in good company.

I was out in the country, too,
in the summer of '68.

Not far from here.

I was in a Marxist-Leninist group.

Maoist.

But we didn't think
we'd be there long.

We saw it as a vacation.

We thought the system
would be quickly swept away.

I often talk with Louis about

your relationship to time.

I respect it but...

I hardly get it.

What do you mean?

It's as if you were
waiting for the system

to collapse by itself.

You struggle... No,

you live as if nothing else existed.

No one can deny
that capitalism, liberalism,

consumer society,
call it what you will,

is in a bad shape,
though not for everyone.

That's a fact.

But betting...

on its imminent
and irreversible death

is something different.

It's already dead.

It's what we call "the crisis".

You're an optimist.

In any case, you look happy.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

See you soon.

- Later.
- Later.

How about a last drink?

I don't know if I...

I warn you, it's not very good,
but our friends made it.

What is it?

What we'll taste?

Liqueur.

I can't tell you what it is.

I'll take you.
You'll see the still he has.

It's like 10 years old.

"Since taking office as Secretary,

"Villermet fears one enemy -

"ultra-left terrorism.

"In a speech

"in Dijon, the Secretary
made further threats

"against the heirs
of former violent groups.

"The speech was not only addressed
to the far left,

"but also to those

"who accuse him

"of talking
too much and doing too little.

"The Secretary promises
some high impact operations

"as well as a law..."

Right. I plead not guilty.

"...addressing not just
the few violent militants,

"but also his own party".

"Today's speech in Dijon is seen

"as a war declaration.

"It is the first shot
fired by the right

"against other right-wingers".

OK, shut up now.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

Who wants another one?

- I do.
- Alright.

Laura?

- Yes.
- Can I come in?

Yes.

Can you drive me
to the station tomorrow?

I must catch the first train.

Not staying for Christmas?

I'd rather not.

I have to go to Paris.

I really must find the person

who can help me out
of this situation.

Your shrink?

No.

Someone you care about.

So to speak.

I'm learning to get attached.

It's a habit I'd lost.

You'll catch your train.

You wanted to leave today...

You knew?

Your question about... prison.

Are you a cop?

I couldn't let them arrest you.

I'm sorry, I just couldn't.

You get attached
at the wrong time.

You didn't save me.

You made me betray my friends.

I'll drop you off and go back.

I don't want to see you again.

Far Left Group Arrested

"...used to this business,

"midway between
puerile Machiavellianism

"and disfavor at the top".

"Puerile Machiavellianism".

Hello.
Juliette Fournier, please.

Yes, I'll hold.

Glad to talk to you.

We need to meet.

No, not over the phone.

As soon as possible.
It's about Paskin.

Hello.

Sorry, I'm not used to this.

I'm a journalist.
I'm doing a friend a favor.

- Me neither.
- Do you like England?

What do you mean?

You could hide.
There's an apartment in Kent.

Why doesn't he go?

His situation is trickier than yours.

We'd lend you money.
You'd leave tonight.

What do you think?

That people in your networks

will be interested in you?

They were last week.

Pierre, they're interested in me.

In fact, it's not good news.

I'm virtually a dead man.

This is my last hope.

I have a few records.
I don't think it'll be enough.

I'm planning my escape, but....

it's quite hard.

I'm good at extracting others,

but not myself.

If I'm still alive
by the end of the week,

I'll consider myself lucky.

Will I be safe in England?

I don't know.

Nowadays, we live and die

at the crossroads of many mysteries.

Author of "The History of Ages"
Dead at 91

A Free Woman

Martine Decoud,
East to West

Hello?

Hello? Hello?

Hello?

More anonymous calls.

- Hello.
- Hi.

I think we're being tapped.

- What do you mean?
- I don't know.

Cut the nonsense.
Did you open?

No. I'll do it now.

- Hello?
- It's Pierre.

Oh, it's you.

Give me a second.

I can't talk now.
Can you go?

I was hoping you'd call.

I missed your voice.

- Are you there?
- Yes.

Sorry I didn't call you.

You know me.

- When did you hear about Martine?
- This morning.

- And you?
- Here, in the office.

Are you there?

Yes.

Do you know about Louis?

Yeah, I read about it.

- He's staying in jail?
- Yes.

His lawyer's negotiating his release
for an interview.

In Le Monde, I think.
He's unsure.

He'll give that interview.

He's like Lenin
trying not to worry his mom.

Your friend Joseph gave me documents

to hand to lawyers and journalists.

The police screwed up.

I think it'll all end well.

And...
Have you heard from Laura?

You don't call for weeks
and now you ask about Laura?

That's quite rude.

If you see her or run into her,

tell her we should talk.

I think about her.

I know.

Did she read my letter?

I don't know.

But...

she received it.

I soon realized he didn't write.

Ever.

He did nothing all day.

He'd get up at noon.

He'd hang around and skip class.

He liked to debate with his friends,
students he'd met.

In bars and hallways.

He said an idea should be
tested in front of an audience.

Even of idiots.

You don't expect...

life to become hard
a couple of years later.

You think you'll be 20 forever

and that the world you live in
will not last.

You think that everything
will change with you.

We thought nobody
had been young before us.

Despite what we'd read.

We thought the world
would fall to its knees.

Then, he fell in love.

So did I, only later.

I quickly moved in with him.

He was living alone
in a big apartment.

An apartment
Martine lent him.

One day,
he came up with an idea.

Marriage.
So we got married.

A year later, maybe less.

What he wanted
was to test the idea.

You see, for me, Pierre
is linked to a heroic time.

I was a student, a militant.

I...

I can stand my life now
because of my life with him.

It's weird, but...

Today, I live one day at a time.

I've a job, a family, but...

I feel like I lived once,

and that... was enough.

For the rest of my life.

He was very funny.

He was sharp.

Self-confident, more than today.

Forgive him, Laura.

He called.
He mentioned the letter again.

I was in love with him.

He was a little prince -

he felt he could do anything.

I think he's changed.

He's older. He's...

He's more modest.

In great danger

Join him at the station tomorrow

When they see me, no risk for you

Yes.

We're on our way.

Ancient Roman Kings

Recent French Literature

Letters from Afar

In love, the estranged still exists,

no longer as separated but as united,

and the living meets the living.
Dedicated to C.R.L.

Subtitles: ECLAIR