All language subtitles for [apreder]Des_lendemains_qui_chantent(2014)DVB_track4_eng (1)

Paris, April 21 2002

He's been in there 15 minutes?

- Shall I call someone?
- No. We'll handle it.

Right. I'll go see.

- Sir, is everything OK?
- Yes, fine. Thanks.

You've been in there a while.

- What's going on?
- I'm thinking.

Alright.

He's thinking.

Because I have doubts.

My parents voted left.
I've always done the same...

But now...

I can't picture the plan.

I'm of socialist inspiration,

but the plan I have for the nation,

isn't a socialist plan.

Pain in the arse.

It isn't like him.

There's a spin doctor behind this.

The kind of ideas
my brother must've given him.

Hello?

My brother. Olivier Kandel.

Jospin's communication strategist.

We've got the figures
for Wallis and Futuna.

Jospin has doubled
his 1995 score.

It's looking good!

My brother's a visionary.
Not the sort to doubt.

Like me 20 years ago.

Full of certainty.

But the story had begun well.

It is Sunday May 10, 1981.

In a few...

That's how it began,
in Saint-Etienne.

With my mate Sylvain,

my brother Olivier
and me, Léon.

The section's 3 musketeers.

In a few seconds, we'll know
if the Left's day has come.

5, 4...

3, 2, 1.

Mitterrand has been elected
President of the Republic.

Mitterrand! Mitterrand!

Comrades, please!

We've won!

Comrades, this victory

is your victory.

In the forthcoming battle,

the enemy is money.

Money corrupts.

Money rots people's minds.

- I...
- Enough talking, comrade.

It's time to party!

- D'you know her?
- No, but I'd like to.

Speak out

Decide for ourselves

Free our lives

From the chains of money
Write our story

In the first person

Be individuals at last
And not instruments

Socialist France

Since you exist

Everything is possible
Here and now

Trained by the Trotskyists,

Olivier had infiltrated the PS
to get it to break

with capitalism.

- Cheers!
- Cheers!

I'll miss you.

You too, bro'.
But well...

Let me find my mark
and, in a year, join me in Paris.

Léon! Léon!

We've won!

Mitterrand promised
to change our lives. On May 10,

he had just changed mine.

Mitterrand! Mitterrand!

Mitterrand has won!

I guess we're stuck.

I'll remember tonight
for the rest of my life.

A BRIGHTER FUTURE

Hey!

Chill, comrade.
Life's beautiful now. So...

Sleep well?

How about coffee?

By the way...

I'm Léon.

Nice to meet you. Noémie.

You too.

This is it.

What are you writing?

An article.

I've always wanted
to be a journalist.

At 20,
I wrote for the right and left.

Especially for the left.

And I never finished that article.

Because of her.

Noémie and her blue eyes.

Noémie and her blue towel.

Noémie without her blue towel.
Naked, basically.

I think I need a short break.

Good idea.

Just...

I want to be sure we agree.

I'm leaving in 3 days.

I won't see you again.

Alright?

In 3 days,
you'll beg me to stay.

Promise.

Alright.

We're allowed magical moments

in our lives.
Those 3 days

were good, really good.

I went all out.
Platini at Geoffroy Guichard.

Saint-Etienne by night.

It was classy.

Really classy.

And to conclude,
the house where I grew up.

Are your parents home?

No. Dad's at the factory.
Come on.

- We'd start there...
- Really?

- Aren't you at Manufrance?
- Another break!

- Miss.
- Hello.

Dad, meet Noémie.

Any objections
to lamb with rosemary?

With the cooperative, I hoped to
fulfil my dream of self-management.

But the banks
have taken us hostage.

But that young boss,
Bernard Tapie...

wasn't he going
to take over the company?

All show!

It'll be different with the left.

The left often has a bad memory.

Don't bring her down, Dad.

Noémie is going to the ENA.

Ah? Why there?

To be useful.

I'm not sure
you've chosen the best path.

What would you do?

What would you do
to improve people's lives?

He's kind, Léon.

Not because he's my son.

When his mother died...

Didn't he tell you?

No. We barely know each other.

He was 10.
His brother was 12.

I took care of them,
they took care of me.

Even if at the end of the day...

everyone licks their own wounds.

I couldn't find the wine.

We won't bother you any longer.

Thanks. It was great.

Don't pay attention
to what I said to you.

I hope Mitterrand will succeed.

We'll assess him
in 7 years' time.

Hang on.

- Use this to judge him.
- The 110 proposals.

Right. See you in 7 years.

I hope to see you before that.

The fast Saint-Etienne to Paris train

will arrive on platform 2.

Here.

Thanks.

Let's not say goodbye.

Ah, look.

Sandwich.

They're not great on the train.

Thanks.

Off you go.

I was thinking,
what if I took this train?

That way...

- Just because we said...
- Stop, Léon.

There are trains and girls
you shouldn't let go.

The 10:55 to Paris, for instance.

Only I didn't take it.

Three years later,
I was still in Saint-Etienne,

freelancing for
FR3 Rhône-Alpes.

A recession
and austerity measures.

The government
halted the reforms.

Factories closed.
Unemployment rose.

Drinks were downed.

Léon, how are you?

"Social-security costs
are deductible.

"Remuneration must be added
to taxable income,

"for tax allowances

"of between 10 and 20%
enjoyed by wage earners..."

What are you reading?

Nothing.
I promise you.

- It's a catalogue.
- A catalogue?

Yes. Speak softly.
Dad's sleeping.

- Sleeping?
- Dozing.

- I need to talk to you.
- Alright.

Ah, Léon!

Handsome as ever.

Didn't he...
What's this mess?

- It was him.
- Get a sponge.

You haven't fed him!

- I have!
No.

You liar!
Still like BNs?

No. I quit.

I'll make you some Nesquik.
You need something warm.

- He's having you on!
- Just tidy up.

You know what?

- I'll make you pancakes.
- No.

I've just eaten
and I'm being careful.

- You're dieting?
- A bit.

It's true that you're on...
He's on telly, he is.

He moved his arse.

He has a job.

Don't you think he looks like...
Patrick Sabatier?

Shut up!
Go get the sponge.

Fetch the sponge.

- I made some makrouds.
- I'm a taker.

Remember as a kid?

- Mum, we have to go.
- Shut up and tidy up.

Hey, it's my report.
Come see!

Here you go.

No recession for him.
He's a winner,

the Zorro of failing companies.

I can make a profit.

I can have a jet.
I've earned it.

How much do you earn?

Money's my unit of measurement.

For athletes, it's speed.
For writers,

the Nobel Prize.
- 1 million a year?

Even more?

Some criticize your methods
for Manufrance.

Have you sold off businesses
to the detriment of jobs?

You'd know if I were a crook.

I love him.
His hair's always perfect.

Unlike you.

Look.
What do you see?

- Your parents' cinema.
- Correct.

Why is it always empty?

- The programme?
- Wrong.

Now, with video cassettes,

young people can have
Brigitte Lahaie naked at home.

Sylvain, porn's Bernard Tapie.

We met when we were 13.

He organized the first
X-rated film festival for minors.

I'm turning the cinema into
a sex shop and video club.

It won't work.

- Recorders are too dear.
- So we go here.

- What's this?
- A bookstore.

It's mine for 1 franc.

You want to own a bookstore?

You'll never make a fortune.

I'm opening a video-recorder store.

I'll sell them for a small profit,
but make loads on the cassettes.

- Yes? Yes?
- For sure.

- Yes?
- Yes, sir.

- Yes who?
- Mr Sylvain. Drinks are on me.

The blonde's mine.

A mission for Flash Gordon.

- Finesse. Finesse.
- Look who's talking!

Go on then.

See you in 2 days.
I'm going to screw for 2 days.

Hey, girls!

How about a lemon squash?

I want something hot.

A hot lemon squash?

Or maybe...

Open if people want sugar.

Close if they've had enough.

- Timewasters!
- Sylvain!

You don't get it.

All those films
we watched in secret

are more harmonious than life.

The girls never have headaches.

True, true.

They get undressed right away.

They happily give blowjobs.

They make love
in unbelievable positions.

- Back to front...
- However they like.

They invite girlfriends.

Life isn't like that.
It takes flowers, meals.

- You understand?
- Yeah.

But who cares!

- Let's go to Paradise.
- I might be leaving.

Why? When?

I'm going to Paris.

Oliv' has a flat.
He might have a job for me.

Really?
That's good.

It's great! Go on.

Go for it. I'm with you.
Is there a problem?

Can't she stop laughing?

Bitch!

I haven't tried the brunette.

Until I do, I can't know.

Sylvain!

Look at me.

Left, right. Collar.

Bearing. Class. Finesse.
Shoulders down.

- Hello.
- Hi.

You know, Dad...
I wanted to tell you...

Your brother called me.
He mentioned the job at Libé.

Well, what do you think?

I'm not sure.

Your train leaves Sunday at 10:55.

You're wasting your time here.

And nothing's keeping you.

Live your life.
It's only normal.

- What will you do?
- I'll be fine.

Besides, I'm not alone.

You're so sensitive!

It's like when you were a kid.

The opposite of your brother.

- He already had such...
- Such confidence?

Such strength.

He never needed me, your brother.

Even when...

Why have you stayed single?

Because I've never met anyone
who can make me forget her.

Off you go.

Paris.

At last! This time,
I didn't miss the 10:55.

Bro!

Olivier had a loft in Bastille,

but apart from his beard,
he hadn't changed.

It's great.

Bye to old-style politics.

The future belonged
to advertising men.

So Olivier continued the struggle

in the best ad agency,
Jacques Fabart's agency.

"Hey, say, what's your poison?"

"Couscous Garbit,
it's as good as over there."

"Quiet Strength."

It's a political approach.

Discreet, to appeal to youth.

We need festive events.
With "Don't touch my mate",

I'm convinced...
- What did you say?

"Don't touch my mate."

Did you come up with that?

Well... let's say we did.

Who's we?

Harlem, Julien, the SOS gang.

It isn't bad.
It isn't bad at all.

You're halfway there.
All you need is the medium.

- A poster?
- No. No.

Something eyecatching.

A clip, a badge,
some kind of gadget.

- May I have a word?
- Yes.

QUIET STRENGTH

Thanks.
It was good to see you.

And a word of advice,
since you're young.

In advertising,
never share your good ideas.

OK, thanks.
Nice to see you.

Don't touch my...

Hello, sir. Libération.
It's to check some facts.

Happy?

Holy cow! Tapie.

- The beginning's good.
- Really?

I piled it on.
Terraillon, Testut...

- You...?
- Piled it on.

Yes, very thick.

It's great!
Off you go.

Well done!

He's nuts.

DEATH TO THE GUILLOTINE

- Alright?
- And you?

Yes.

What did Tapie do to you?
Pinch your girlfriend?

You're obsessed.

His name keeps cropping up.

Yes, of course.

I don't want articles to bin.

Publish them.
You did before.

Yes, but before was before.

Now is now.

You have to live
with the times. Adapt.

Be pragmatic.

Tapie has united the left
and business.

So if I follow,
tell me if I'm wrong...

Bernard Tapie is the left.
Right?

- The modern left.
- Modern?

It's just like the old right.

Instead of whining about the left
being too much this or that,

attack the right.
It'll do us good.

The right doesn't interest me.
It isn't my family.

What bothers me most

are guys who claim
to be left-wing

but betray the left.

OK. Are you done?

They'll turn against you,
those you scorn.

The common people.

What do you know
about the working class?

I'm a member.

I'll speak to the press!

We're screwed.
Everyone's dropped us.

The local council,
the government, the left.

- And Marchais?
- Marchais, Krasucki,

they have no clout.

They'll disappear like us.

The class struggle is over,
comrades.

And we've lost it.

1988. Olivier prepared
Mitterrand's re-election.

Lacking content,
he perfected the concept.

An image.
Clear, simple, effective.

Universal.
A sky, clouds, a hand.

Mitterrand is God, the Almighty.

We're above the crowd.

I have another
more consensual idea.

With the campaign:
terroir, cheese, authenticity.

Middle France.

No logo, because the PS logo
is kind of old hat.

Alright?

And I had another idea,
"Uncle, keep it up."

But no visual.

It's crap.

I worked hard.

Right, back to the drawing board.

For you, what is Mitterrand?

Wisdom, experience, serenity.

That's fine for seniors!
It's naff.

Mitterrand is like blancmange.

An old product
that needs modernising.

- Modernity, creativity, festivity.
- Festivity,

festive. Festive, party.

Let's party. Youth.

Trendy. A trendy president.

A hip president.

Socialism.

You jerk!

The youth idea isn't bad.
Let's dig deeper.

A modern president.

A connected president.

We have to find a word
that's groundbreaking,

to create suspense.

A word. A word that says it all.

OK, hang on. Hang on.

Right...

Generation.

Generation Mitterrand.

Get out!

Generation Mitterrand.
What a jerk!

Well, Olivier, working hard?

We're making progress.

But nothing great yet.

You know the excellent
Jacques Sadoun?

The president whisperer.

I whisper.

Olivier Kandel,
a talented young man.

Ah, Noémie.

Noémie Archambault,
the President's adviser.

You know each other?

- Yes. We've already met.
- What have you got?

Yes...

I have an idea. But...

"Generation Mitterrand."

What do you think, Jacques?

It has a ring to it.

Did you come up with it?

Yes.

What does it mean?

It means...

that this generation is us.

That of May 10, 1981.

We've grown up with Mitterrand.

It hasn't all been rosy,
but he's done good things.

Retirement at 60.

5th week of holidays.
Abolition of the death penalty.

We have to carry on.

Altogether.

"Uncle, keep it up."

"Uncle, keep it up." No.

But "Generation Mitterrand"...

You're right, it is good.

We'll have a word
with the President.

Why did you leave Libération?

I didn't identify
with their editorial line.

I'll stop you right there.

Here, at L'Obs,
we didn't understand their shift.

To think it was
Jean-Paul Sartre's paper!

And the Maoists'!
I mean, fuck!

And Serge July said
it'd never run ads.

It's frightening.

Ah, you're from Saint-Etienne.

Paris must've changed you.

Paris?

It's so stressful.
Mind you,

we did an article
on France's best cities.

Saint-Etienne got a low rating.

After the mines,
lots of factories closed.

With the recession,
it's hard to find work.

"Hurrah for the Recession!"
No, perhaps not.

"The Recession, the Very Last."

Not great either.

Right. To cut to the chase,
at L'Obs,

we want to help our readers
understand this complex world.

If I say something like...

For instance, if I say,
"the freemasons",

how would you feel?

- A tagline?
- "How Do You Become a Freemason?"

Or "Jew". "How Do You
Become Jewish?" See?

Or... It's true, actually.
How do you become Jewish?

See? We don't know.

Crazy, huh?
"Being Jewish in France Today."

What does it mean?
"Always With My Kippah."

It's a bit segmentarist.

Be careful. The French,
now summer is on the way,

they want light stuff.

Lighter things.
"The French..."

"Do the French
Have More Sex in Summer?"

Not bad!
I can see the cover.

Sunglasses, flip flops,
a naked girl...

With a sun...

"Do the French Use Sunscreen?"

"Do Jewish Freemasons
Have More Sex in Summer?"

No, "in the sun"!
It's true, do...

What?

Be careful. Are you
suffering from depression?

Be quiet!
"Depression, a French disease."

Fuck!
It was a long time coming, but...

Michel! Get in here,
I've found the title. See?

That's what the French want.

Content, content, content.

Ladies and gentlemen,
the President of the Republic.

May 1988, "United France"
crowns Uncle.

It had the colour of May 1981,
the taste of May 1981,

but it wasn't May 1981.

Hats off to you!

Sylvain joined us in Paris.

He would be the first to understand
the Minitel's real purpose.

Hello.

Don't disturb them.
Come on.

Right... our four girls.
Each has a Minitel.

- Hi, Sylvie.
- Hi.

- 30 connections an hour.
- Hello.

We have 4.
That makes 120.

She's chatting with a JP66.

You're in the kitchen, good.

You're making moussaka?

No, careful!
Don't answer at once.

Don't get undressed.

At 60 francs a minute,
you keep JP66 waiting.

But the key is here.

The machine I told you about.

Isn't it a beaut?

Isn't it wonderful?

All the clients who connect,

it arrives here directly.

It's an STN. Then,

by electric magic,
it comes this way.

To the broom.

I hooked up the VTAP.

- What's the VTAP?
- Videotext Access Point.

- Thanks to the PO.
- Post Office?

Well done!

In 3 months',
once it's all sorted,

I'm launching "Tel" and "Tits".

And what are they?

The same as 3615 ULLA.

What's it for?

You're definitely never
going to make a fortune.

I'm organising my own competition.

Think about it.

- You're self...
- Yes. I'm self-attacking.

- "You have a competitor."
- "It's me."

"But I claim I don't know him."

- "Why?"
- "Because it's me."

- "So you know him?"
- "Well, yeah."

"I want you between my legs.

"You'll slide in.

"I promise you a 1,000 delights."

She takes herself
for Marguerite Duras.

You say that to your guy?

I live with my mother, sir.

- Fuck!
- Got the tickets?

Shit, they were in here!

What?

Got them!

Let's go get Olivier.

- He isn't coming.
- He isn't?

No. He isn't coming.

PSG vs. Saint-Etienne,
box with champagne,

best seats, gorgeous waitresses,
and he isn't coming?

He's with his girlfriend.

- Cute?
- I haven't met her.

For him to miss the match,
she must be special.

Noémie?

Noémie. 7 years later.
Wrong place, wrong person.

Waking up was as painful
as a hungover morning.

Oh, fuck!

Oh, sorry.

Sorry.

Wait!

I didn't think we'd meet again.

- Even less so like this.
- Same here.

But I like things to be clear, so...

I told Olivier everything.

- What?
- Well, everything.

Us, May 10 and...

And the rest.

The rest?
Can you be more specific?

- I don't want to cause trouble.
- Hang on.

It isn't a problem at all. It's...

We had some good times,
but nothing to...

Besides,
I'm delighted for you two.

Besides, it's ancient history so...

Right, well,
everything's fine then?

- Has Olivier gone?
- Yes.

He left you a note.

It's about an interview.

Right, see you later.

Léon?

Call me Anne-K.
I'm overloaded with work.

Come on,
I'll show you your desk.

Nothing against open spaces?

What about the interview?

Please, none of that.

For admin,
speak to Sophie or Sylvie.

How many Ks do you want?

Er... no idea.

Actually, I came out of curiosity.

Just to get an idea...

I need someone toute suite.

Now.

Ah, Laurent, good timing!

- Laurent meet Laurent.
- Léon.

"The private sector isn't crap."

Laurent is joining us
for the Paris Première project.

Can you brief him?
Perfect!

Hi, bro.

How was your first day
with Anne-Katherine?

I'm not feeling it.

I find you the perfect job
on a trendy magazine,

and you sniff at it.

Their editorial line is dodgy.

She knows what she's doing.

Eating here?

No. I'm seeing Noémie.

There's chicken in the fridge.

- Yeah?
- By the way...

Noémie told me
about your brief liaison.

It's kind of a funny coincidence, no?

Yeah.

It isn't a problem for me.

Good. Glad to hear it.

- For you neither?
- Absolutely not.

- It's ancient history, anyway.
- That's what I told her.

- I asked her to move in.
- Here?

Here.

It's a bit soon,
but we do crazy hours.

That's good. I was planning
on looking for a flat.

There's no hurry.

But as I found you...
I mean, now you have a job,

you'll be better alone.

I'll heat up the chicken.

One more thing.

Did she met Dad?

Yes, I... I don't know.
Why?

She spoke about him...
How can I put it?

With great affection.

And as you were only together...

I didn't count.

3 days?

I'll leave you to row.

Know much about literature?

A bit.

We have to interview
Bernard-Henri Lévy.

What's the connection?

- You're a funny guy.
- Yeah!

He's publishing a novel.

Here. Read it.

When you're done, call
Paris Première for the interview.

- When's it for?
- Yesterday.

Great!

You see,
there were two lines

and a sheet stuck on it...

It's a series of collages,

but it's hard to explain.

Devoting yourself to literature
in luxury, dressing as an Afghan

in the mountains of Panshir,

is that hard to explain too?

What's so disconcerting?

The sheer contrast.

Yes, no...
I think there's...

I think there's probably
a logic between it all

which escapes you.

What is it, then?

I think it's the secret of beings.

I'm not sure that...

I'm not sure
you can just sum it up:

"This is my logic, my truth."

Sorry.

Now retired,

Dad was also searching
for his logic, his truth.

You look lost.

May I help you?

I don't believe in the left anymore.

Or in trade unionism.
Even less so in the Common Market.

I don't understand computing.

What can you do for me?

Do you believe in God?

Don't you have anything else?

Why come to a synagogue
if you're not religious?

Because I'd like to have
a soft landing.

You're very elegant.

Thank you.

You're home early.

I had a problem at the magazine.

Be wary of Anne-K.
She's opportunistic.

In a few more days,
my charm will work its magic.

I'm warning you.

But I know your charm works.
It did on me.

A few days in May isn't much.

How did you put it?

"We had some good times,
but nothing to..."

It's true.
We had some good times.

Such as?

I don't recall.
It was ages ago.

Remember what we said at Dad's?

- The 110 proposals?
- Yes.

Taste the wine?

"Settling of disputes
concerning war veterans."

Yes.

"An allowance will be paid
when pregnancy is declared."

No...

We haven't got very far.

- Disappointed?
- A bit.

What do you think of the EEC?

Me, I... I reckon I should go
get some more wine. No?

I don't know what you think of it.

I remember other things.

I remember your first kiss.

In the crowd, remember?

The evening of May 10,
when you sang on stage.

The blue towel.

Léon...

Sorry.

No, I am.
I shouldn't have brought it up.

Hello.

Looks like you're having fun.

- Get yourself a glass.
- I'll make myself at home.

Did you have a good day?

It's complicated with Fabart.
But let's not talk shop.

- You OK, bro?
- Fine.

I had a run-in
with Anne-Katherine.

Nothing serious?

Spaghetti?

That poor Chirac.
I almost feel sorry for him.

Can you pass me the parmesan?

He always gets had.

That said, well coached,
he has real potential.

Hello?

Yes, Anne-Katherine.

A bit. I'm having dinner.

Yes. He told me.

He said.

Ah, no, he didn't tell me that.

I'll call you back.

She told me how badly
you behaved towards Bernard-Henri.

Are you totally dumb?

You tore him to shreds.

- If I can't ask questions...
- Stop! I know you.

And you make me look bad.

I'll hand in my notice tomorrow.

Oh, yeah?
And how will you pay your rent?

- Olivier!
- What?

I help him.
All I need now...

Is what? Go on.

Say what you're thinking.

There we go!

Léon Kandel in his favourite role.

It's so easy.

Look at this.
It'll be on the motorway.

So if it's...

Oh! Léon!
What are you doing here?

- What's wrong?
- Can you put me up?

You're asking me?
Of course. My home is yours.

Put your bag down.

Come look at this.

First week: "If you want to see
the rest, connect to Tel."

We're not lying!

Turn round.
Meet my artistes.

Tits, Tel, Ulla.

A nationwide poster campaign.
I can tell you...

not with clothes!

Look at this.

It's Dorothée.

What's wrong?
What's going on?

Is it Mélanie again?

- Noémie.
- Noémie, is it?

I'll get her out of your head.

Hey, girls!

Dorothée,
put some music on.

Sylvain?

Mélanie...

Méla...nie?
Noémie.

Noémie!

Awesome!

I'm looking for Léon.
Is he here?

Léon?

Ah, Léon?
Of course he's here.

He's here. Yes.

May I come in?

Yes, of course.
Come on in.

Follow me.
We partied last night

so it's a bit of a mess.

I'll go warn Léon right away.

Tell Léon.

Go wait in the kitchen.

Oh, sorry.

Don't worry.
They're used to it.

Want some tea?

I'd love some.

- Hi, girls.
- Hi.

My head hurts
and my pussy's sore.

Oh, sorry.
I thought you were Sandrine.

- Is she still asleep?
- I think so.

- How did you...
- Right, I'm off.

- See you tonight.
- Yeah!

I wanted to talk to you.

Sorry about what happened
with Olivier.

Scusi.

No... It's my fault.

I should have left... sooner.

What are you doing?

It isn't... what you think.

Right...

Goodbye.

Have fun.

It was downhill from there.

Ladies and gents

I'm gonna sing you a song

The topic is ambitious

I'm careful about my image

1990 is the era of communication

Your glasses are empty.
Help yourselves!

Come on! The champagne
is a gift from Berlusconi.

We've got 40% of the market!

There we go!

How are you?

Yes.

Awesome!
Aren't you cold?

The 1990s kicked off
with the fall of a wall, in Berlin.

In the West, nothing new.
There was a recession as usual.

Apparently, it was inevitable.
End of story.

Ideologies were dead.
Fatalism was in vogue.

So I pretended to have fun
by drinking

and sleeping with tons of girls.

If I remember correctly,
that's Pamela.

And that's Véronique.

She was a playmate on TV.

Back then,
my life was like bad TV.

Maybe because I worked on it.

I was a political journalist
on Antenne 2.

Hello, Jack Lang.
It's time for 20 Questions.

Our Minitel will ask them.

You can only answer
yes, no, or sometimes.

I'm ready.

Do you like to be cuddled?

Yes.

That'll interest our viewers.

Do you like pear-shaped breasts?

Sometimes.

I'm from the written press.

I'm discovering the questions.

When you meet a woman,
do you ever

imagine her underwear?

Yes.

Lang is an excellent
culture minister.

But he can't take on Le Pen.

And why not Kouchner?

- Not bad.
- Great casting.

The handsome doctor
versus the one-eyed villain.

No. Too romantic.

The only one who can
stand up to him, is Tapie.

Hang on, hang on...
No, no, no.

We have 2 boxers.
Who will hit hardest?

That's good, Olivier.

You can't be serious.

Why not?

- Jacques!
- Sorry I'm late.

- I was at Solutré.
- The President had a good climb?

Yes, he's on fine form.
However,

Roger Hanin twisted his ankle.

Jacques,
we've things to tell you.

You came just at the right time.

TF1 is organising a debate
on immigration.

Yes, I heard about it.

Well, we've just had an idea.

Go on, Olivier.

Right.

Everyone knows that
Le Pen is a fearsome debater.

We have to send in a bulldozer.

A guy who uses simple,
populist language

and isn't an insider.

Sounds just like Bernard Tapie.

What do you think?

It's an excellent idea.

It's a load of crap.

Noémie!

Today, no one should
go hungry or be cold.

No more every-man-for-himself.

Out of sight, out of mind.
We're here,

in our cities,

while Ethiopia...

For the big night,
they must have food.

And drink.

Shall we go to the lounge?

Have we had too much to drink?

- What got into you?
- I'm supporting your fiancé.

Tapie is self-interested.
He's uncontrollable,

and isn't left-wing.

The President is keen on him.

Tapie is a time bomb.

He'll explode in the face
of those who try to manipulate him.

Jacques, cognac?

Please, dear man.

You're a clown, sir.

- Watch out!
- You're a clown.

You're overstepping the mark.

Don't make outrageous remarks!

And don't threaten me, Mr Tapie.

You'll get a thrashing.

Because you have bodyguards.

And we're going to see who wins.

You're quiet today, Rabbi.

Why the silence?

Those who know don't speak.

Those who speak don't know.

Why don't they speak,
those who know?

Because those who know
know they know nothing.

So they keep quiet.

But then those who don't know,
what do they talk about?

Everything.

Therefore nothing.

You seem preoccupied.

I'm worried about my son.

Your older son?

No. The younger.

Do uplift bras arouse you?

Sometimes.
But braless is good too.

Do you like morning cuddles?

- Sometimes.
- Naughty girl!

Only morning cuddles?

So the saying's true.
Girls who wear glasses like...

Naughty girl!

Miss.

Dad.

Your secretary said you were here.
Shall I wait at the cafe?

No, no.
I'm surprised to see you in Paris.

Alright?

I'm worried about your brother.

- Shouldn't I be?
- Yes.

But I'm fine, though.

I can see you're fine.

You're impressive.
You seem very...

settled.

Settled?

Yes.

Comfortable.
Successful.

- You don't seem pleased about it.
- Why wouldn't I be?

Times have changed.
Not me.

Times!

So... what's the problem
with Léon?

- Have you seen his shows?
- Yes.

Right. Well?

I like the mix of politics
and entertainment.

It's modern. It's refreshing.
People like it.

Can't you get him out of there?

My sons are turning 40
and they're not married.

Are you married?

A pretty girl like you?

No.

Would you date my son?
He's a great guy.

He has everything going for him.

To make a woman happy.

Are you sure
you want to quit politics?

I'm not quitting.

I'm going back to the roots.

The grassroots.

The President will be sad.
Especially now.

The rats are leaving
the sinking ship.

Don't you lecture me!

Or our phone-tapping President.

That's just a lie
orchestrated by the right.

Boom! The bomb's gone off.

The indictment of Minister Tapie
is problematic for your fiancé.

Oh, sorry...

your ex-fiancé.

The President seems downcast.

It isn't the first word that...

The end of his term
will be messy.

We have to counter-attack.

Is he up to it?

Let's do what was done in 1985.

An intimate fireside interview.

No one will play that game.

We've no choice.

We just need to find
the right person.

Who are you thinking of?

François Mitterrand,
good evening.

Before we start,
I have a question.

I would like you to answer
as frankly as possible.

François Mitterrand,

is giving a blowjob
being unfaithful?

So, bro, this is your big night!

Come on.
I need to have a word.

The President has insisted.

Nothing on Bérégovoy's suicide.

No allusions to Bousquet,
the VA/OM scandal or Tapie.

- Can I count on you?
- Yes.

What's that tie?

It's my knitted tie.

I'll be in the control room.

If the President feels bad,
I'll let you know.

And you wind up the interview.

- Great to see you.
- I need a word.

How about dinner after?

No, now.

- Go on.
- Not here. In my office.

Are you moving?

No. I'm leaving for Brazil tomorrow.

You're always leaving.

I have a mission.

- When will you be back?
- I'm not coming back.

What do you mean?

Tomorrow's edition.

The Elysée has everyone wired

The President set up
a phone-tapping cell here.

It's totally illegal.

What do I do with this?

Whatever you like, Léon.

On air in 20 seconds.

On air in 15 seconds.

10, 9,

8, 7,

6, 5,

4, 3,

2...

Mr President, good evening.
Thank you for inviting us here,

to your office,

from where you've governed
France for 12 years.

Before we start,
I have a sensitive question for you.

I would like you

to answer as frankly as possible.

François Mitterrand,

was there,
between 1983 and 1986,

a phone-tapping cell here?

I'm astounded you've begun
the debate on such matters.

If I'd known you'd fall so low,
I wouldn't have agreed.

It's my duty as a journalist
to ask you.

If I'd known
you were like that...

I don't need to waste my time
on such matters.

It's a fabricated controversy,

and nothing to do with me.

But you cannot deny...

There is no phone-tapping cell.

There cannot be one.

I don't know how it's done.

Can we cut?

...your orders?
- You're sinking lower.

I have no intention of answering

your questions.

The French have a right...

This conversation is over, sir.

It's time we parted ways.

Fuck, Léon!

I never imagined

you would stoop so low.

What a jerk!

It's over.

In 1995,
the President quit the stage.

Chirac's time had come.

He relaunched his campaign
advised by a smartarse

who always bounced back.

Hello, Mr Chirac.

Hello, Oli. Well?

I'll start with the bad news.

You're way down in the polls.

But I'm not worried.

I've come up
with a promising concept.

Social dislocation.

I admit I don't really understand,

but I have complete faith in you.

It is 8 o'clock.

5th President of the 5th Republic.

Jacques Chirac.
52% of all votes today.

Pity.

Jospin's campaign
had been good for once.

There wasn't only bad news
on that Sunday in May.

Public hospitals
only have huge wards.

This place is the best.
It costs a packet.

Speaking of money,
I need a favour.

You can ask me for anything.

Even 50 grand?

No. I mean, hang on...

Are you serious?

I'm setting up my agency.
I need capital.

Awesome!

Even if I could get hold of it,

when would you need it?
- Now.

I'll give you a 33% stake.

In 3 years,
it'll have doubled...

Hang on!
3 years is a long time.

Business isn't child's play, mate.

- And the rest?
- The banks.

You can have it back
whenever you like.

- Whenever I like?
- Yes.

Go on, put it there!

My lawyer will send you the papers.
You won't regret it.

Olivier!

Wait for me.

Olivier!

- Move!
- You're mad at me.

Leave me alone.

Gentlemen.

I'm sorry, Olivier.

I had no choice.

I did it out of loyalty.

You believed, I believed.
Dad too!

Stop!

You've been a millstone
around my neck for years.

You think you're a nice guy.

But you only think of yourself.

Look who's talking!

You don't give a toss!

Is that so?
Who found you a job?

Who put you up?
Who?

- What a short memory!
- I haven't forgotten my roots.

Just look at yourself, Olivier!

When I think what
you've become in Dad's eyes.

He might not have told you,
but he's ashamed.

- He's ashamed of you.
- Fuck you!

Actually, you know what?

You're a fucking parasite.

You're always lecturing,

but what use are you?

Huh? What use are you?

Comrade!

We'll see how you cope now.

Léon.

I'm living in Igarata now,

a village near Sao Paulo.

I've never felt so useful, so alive.

I often think of you.

I hope you're happy

and have found your path too.

Very affectionately yours,
Noémie.

Guy Michel, good evening.

Your feelings after this match,
which means

you'll be relegated?

Algebraically, no.

If we win the next 4 matches
and our competitors lose,

there's still hope.

There were positive things
in the match.

Like the final whistle?

I won't get into an argument.

I'm not looking for excuses.

But, as you know,
the infirmary is chockers.

And Diarra?

Bernard Diarra has an ACL injury.

Akum Diarra is playing
in the Africa Cup of Nations.

That's a lot.

But, as you may know,

there are more serious things.

It isn't...
You have to be positive.

I'm thinking of
far more serious things.

Far more serious things.
Thank you, Guy Michel,

for your sincerity.
Thanks. Goodbye.

The atmosphere's heavy
in the players' changing room.

He'll criticize them again,

but no one will listen.

The players don't give a toss.

No more team spirit,
teamwork or simple values...

such as solidarity.
That's all!

Léon Kandel,
who's freezing his nuts off,

live from Bram Stadium
in Louhans.

Lionel, 2002,
you have to think about it.

Chirac already is.

And nothing else, in fact.

Lionel, sometimes,
you're hopelessly naive.

Hello?

- You OK?
- Yes. You look awful.

- Coffee?
- I'd love one.

Two, one very strong.

Please.

I'm getting tired of her.

She's a graduate,
so she can't serve coffee?

Go on, mate.

I'm in trouble, Olivier.

That's business for you.
Any health problems?

No. It's my divorce with Chantal.
It's a right mess.

She's back in Laval.

Laval?
Why did you go marry a dancer?

But that's not all.

I made some lousy investments.

I know you, you'll bounce back.

I've lost everything.
I'd like to chat about it.

Yes, Lionel?

But you've placed the bar
too far to the left.

You won't be elected
on results, but on a plan.

Yes.

Talk to you later.
Bye, Lionel.

Lionel Jospin?

Yes.

Give it back when you can.
There's no rush.

At the end of the month.

What do you want me to do
with just 3 grand?

Do you take me for a tramp?

You can't be serious!

I didn't come to beg.
I came to sell my stake.

- My 33%.
- It won't be possible.

You told me I could
recoup my investment.

I told you...
You should read contracts.

You can sell if
the majority stakeholder agrees.

But you're the majority stakeholder!

Yes, except I don't agree
you can sell.

Where's that silly cow
with our coffee?

It isn't personal.

I'm thinking of the agency.
We're opening an office

in Dubai. I need cash flow.
It's bad timing.

That's the way it goes.

Hang on.

Here.

Her name's Svetlana.
She isn't cheap,

but she's worth it.

Last game, Rabbi?

No. The match is on.

- Which match?
- France-Brazil!

- We can watch it together.
- No, thanks.

Want to play tomorrow?

No. I'm going to Paris.

I'm worried about my son.

- The younger one?
- The older one, Olivier.

- But you've always said...
- I've always been wrong.

I think I was gauche.

I really must speak to him.

Being a father is a job.

But no one can teach you.

You learn as you go.

I didn't pay him enough attention.

Or listen to him.

At least not in the right way.

I've been pretty blind actually.

The Talmud says,

"A father's acts
are a compass for his sons."

You've shown him the way.

Yes, but have I shown him
how much I love him?

What are you doing?

I'm sorry, mate.

I'm not going.
I'm sick.

- What with?
- A cold.

- In July?
- Illnesses don't take holidays.

You're going to miss
the World Cup final?

Yeah.
I'll watch it on telly.

On the radio.

Look, forget it.

I'm in a bad way.
Enjoy the match.

Kiss Zizou for me, OK?

Ah... sorry.

Here you go.

I forgot the bloody tickets!

- Checked your pockets?
- Course.

Maybe when I took the bike.

It's impossible.
You didn't move. You just came in.

Yeah, I know but...

Let's watch it at the cafe.

I told you, bro...

No.

I know a nice bar.

In Laval.

If we go now,
we'll be in time for the ceremony.

Then tomorrow...

We can stroll around Laval.

Life's so unpredictable.

I'm not crying, OK?

No. You've got a cold.

On July 12?

That's it!

France is world champion!

It's awesome.

After witnessing this,

I can die peacefully.
Well, at a ripe old age...

I saw a lot of Raymond
over the years

and always enjoyed
our conversations immensely.

We discussed everything
except religion.

Most of the time,
he talked about you, Olivier, Léon,

of whom he was proud.

He followed your careers closely.

He told me his doubts.

Because yes...

in his humility, he feared
he had failed in his duties.

And yet he was
an admirable father.

And courageous,

when he had to raise you alone
after your mum died.

He was...

simply an honest man.

May he rest in peace.

He was great, your father.

Thanks, Nora.

Come over whenever you like.

- Did he tell you about the rabbi?
- No.

There aren't many Kandels left.

He was so anxious
for us to have kids.

He went on and on about it.

Going already?

When we rowed at the clinic,

I said something about Dad.

It wasn't true.

Excuse me a second.
I'm having trouble.

Fucking Italian cars!

It's like being
back at square one, huh?

In Saint-Etienne.

Minus the illusions.

You're right, mate.

Like in a bloody Balzac novel.

- A bloody Balzac novel?
- Sure.

You think only you read?

Sometimes I wonder
if we shouldn't have stayed here.

We wouldn't have had
so many laughs.

I wouldn't have had my girl.

She's the best thing ever.

I wouldn't have asked a minister
if he liked guys in undies.

I wouldn't have slept
with all those TV strippers

these past 10 years.

All that to forget
the only girl I've ever loved.

Now we're talking!

Well done, Monica.

Can you drop me at the airport?

Sure.

Off to Roissy.

On the Paris-to-Rio flight,
I saw my life flash past me.

It wasn't always a success,
but I had some great moments.

A few magical moments.

Paris, April 21 2002

That's why I went to get Noémie.

I was slow on the uptake,

but it's often like that.
You doubt,

you hum and haw,

and then you act.

Hey, Léon!

- Done your citizen's duty?
- Yes.

- Jospin, no contest. You?
- Besancenot.

- Taubira.
- Noël Mamère.

Arlette, of course.

Hang on,
no one voted for Jospin?

Well, no.

Seriously.

No one at all?

I voted left.

Hello?

Go ahead.

Are you sure?

We've got the figures
for Wallis and Futuna.

I can hear you.

It's only partial.

But if it continues,
I'll call the clients

to say "Chirac in the lead
and very close...

"between Le Pen and Jospin."

Yes, try to call.
Let me know.

...first round of the elections.

Most candidates have voted.

I don't understand.
Are they sure about it?

What's that?

A midday poll...

It's crap.

Don't worry!

You'll still be PM.

No. Still nothing.

It's clear.
Le Pen is second.

- Have you told the clients?
- No.

Call them.

Hello?

Hello? Yes, Jean-François.

You're joking?

Estimate or exit poll?

That's it, then.

You make very good love.

My big bunny.

Next time,
contact me on the internet.

On the internet?

Hang on a second.

Guys choose the women
they want to sleep with?

Choose this girl.

Just imagine...

a dating site for singles

who want sex.

Ah, yeah, not bad.

Of course!

It's 8 o'clock.

Here's our estimate

for the results of the first round
of the presidential elections.

In the lead,
Jacques Chirac, 20%.

A huge surprise,
Le Pen appears to be second,

with 17% of votes.

Followed by Lionel Jospin, 16%,

François Bayrou, 6.5%...

Arlette Laguillier, 6.4%,

Jean-Pierre Chevènement, 5.4%...

We're all the children of immigrants

Down with the Front National!

It's time to be happy!

It's time to party!

Life is beautiful.

The sky is blue

It's pretty scary.

Subtitles: Eclair Media