With Love... from the Age of Reason (2010)

[bunniefuu]

[ WITH LOVE. . . FROM THE AGE OF REASON ]

Eleanor Roosevelt?

Virginia Woolf?

Amanda Lear?

Liz Taylor?

Marie...

Marie.

Marie Curie.

Benazir Bhutto?

Maria Callas?

Bravo, Margaret.

Heard you clinched the deal.

My schedule?

Got the black dress, car's waiting, minutes.

Find Malcolm, we meet at a quarter to.

I think that's pushing it.

Pushing it? I dine on frozen food,

sob over Toy Story ,
sell global-warming power plants,

pushing it is not a problem.

- Low cut?
- The dress?

Full cleavage for the Chinese.
Overkill, but they like it.

I think the Chinese prefer the nape,

yet your breasts deserve to be seen...

Arnaud, am I dreaming?

Hold on.

What's a karstic aquafer? A disease?

Aquifer!

Just about.

So, at worst, the contract blows,

at best, the plant.

What do we pay experts top dollar for?

Listen, you've hooked the Chinese.

You could sell scales to a snake,

flames to Lucifer!

Meaning, other such plants

have already been built on karstic aquifers.

So, where else? Bhopal, Chernobyl?

So, the Americans are undercutting us?

They built the Mattel plant

on floodable terrain...

So let's call Ken and Barbie to ask how!

Then we keep our cool.

While the competition is promising the moon

our only advantage is to be rock solid.

Coffee?

It's tepid.

The re-assessment. Another coffee?

No, I'd rather you at your post.

A country notary is here to see you.

Seems like family business.

Just needs a signature.

Who? To sign what?

Mr Merignac, from a village down south, Saou...

It's pronounced "Sou".
Drome region, district of Crest-Sud.

Should I cancel?

I'll just freshen up. Be right there.

Margaret, I didn't yet get time to say it. . .

Happy birthday!

Not now! Why tonight?

Couldn't he forget me, or die, or both!

He's just a country notary.

Maria Callas.

Appear unshakeable.

This is our excuse for coffee.

It's best we talk here...

It's hot!

And undrinkable.

I'm not a coffee person.

So, Saou. . .

people, a th Century chapel,
a bowling ground,

one bus a day and even a notary.

A notary now retired.

Saou no longer needs notaries.

Not like here.

I came once before, in .

It's changed, no?

It sure has. I hardly recognised it.

Even you, I wouldn't have...

recognised you.

I meant the place.

We've met?

Sorry, but I'm hopeless with names.

I just need you to sign...

Here. . .

Excuse me...

what? Million?

Can do better.

Okay, be done in minutes.

Sounds like a hot deal.

Yeah, everything's "hot" here:

coffee, business and schedule.

Not a fun birthday.

You said it.

Aren't you surprised I know your birth date?

Sorry?

Still don't recognise me?

Must be a mistake.

My name is Margaret Flore, not Marguerite.

But it's not the first time.

A mistake...Well,

here's the mistake.

Well, I'm just in time to catch my train...

That's all?

Expecting something else?

Patience.

- How long have I got?
- minutes.

I stalled the driver,
checked the dress: low-cut...

"Marguerite Flore, wherever she is,
on Sept. ."

Say, Arnaud,

for my birthday, I hope you didn't order flowers?

Little do you know me, Margaret.

No, they're not for here.

But if you're done, we'd better go.

Tell Malcolm we meet downstairs.
Don't forget the dress.

Arnaud.

Change of plan, downstairs in .

What? I think we should go now...

Don't think!

Letters and ...

Letter .

Dear me,

first, happi birthday.

Wow, can't even spell "happy"!

I have a present for you. Hope you like it.

They're my favourites

and I've got almost .

Today, I'm seven. The age of reason.

It's the neatest birthday I've ever had.

There's Dad,

Mom, my little brother. . .

Lots of movers.

No furniture left

and even a bailiff with a repossession order.

We played lots of new games.

We played shadows,

echoes,

even beggars.

It's so corny!

The Queen piled up mattresses

and slipped a pea underneath.

And Mom made me a princess's dress. . .

I can feel the pea!

with the bedroom curtains. . .

But to be honest, I'm lying.

I liked my birthday a little, a lot,

passionately,

wildly, not at all.

It's so fusty.

So sugar sweet.

It smells of cheap violet.

At the time of reading,

it's your birthday. So, happy birthday.

Mom says ladies don't tell their age.

But believe me, you're
at the silliest age of your life.

So I wrote this to help you remember

the promises I made today at the age of reason.

We, Mathieu and Marguerite Flore,
do solemnly swear...

To save the elephants.

To never eat oysters!

To hold our breath till .

To make a popcorn tart to see
if it jumps in the oven.

No, above all,

above all,

to set things straight.

Right, let's start with what matters most.

What have you become?

What do I want to be?

Here's my list of jobs that you can do.

a) Whale vet.

b) Saint.

c) Martian explorer.

d) Wedding-cake maker.

e) Princess.

f) Other.

Come on, let's go!

I need . %.

%

The dress!

. !

Here, take this.

Black, low-cut.

Size , body-hugging.

Might make up for your bungling.

I meant the parcel.

It's a parcel. Don't sidetrack.

I announce . % to throw the competition.

At election time, the presidential candidates

do it to times a day.

What? Lie?

Change in cars.

They lie too.

. %

any lower, the board won't back you.

Group reliability is at stake.

What's reliable is what I get if I fail: the boot.

You've done worse.

Never. Chance has no place in my life.

And this. . . Is that chance?

Should I pursue?

I never mix work and play.

Now's not the time.

Keep it, I'll open it after the deal.

%

%

. %

%

Three and a half.

%

!

What're you doing?

Come back!

Merignac!

We'll be late, dammit!

Marguerite? What are you doing here?

Margaret! Get off. Let's talk.

- Come!
- No, I can't.

There's only one bus a day for Saou,
I can't miss my bowling.

I'll pay a taxi.

No, no thanks.

I wouldn't upset your schedule, Marguerite.

No, my name is Margaret. . .

Margaret Flore!

We have to talk, Merignac!

Old fart! Bloody old...

Bloody old fart!

They're here.

What came over you? Is it that parcel?

Malcolm, this is the clincher.

You're crazy!

I know.

I know that too.

Sorry...

Sorry.

Sorry!

Sorry.

I guess that means I've become

e) a princess.

Some of the children I'd like to have...

Will you be their mother?

Yes!

It's the nicest gift I've ever had.

Setting. . .

things...

straight.

So, whale vet?

No.

Saint?

Maybe. . .

But to be eaten by lions, no.

Martian explorer, wedding-cake maker, no, no.

For all these jobs, read letter .

If not,

for princess,

read letter .

Other, read letter .

"Other", that's a bit vague.

Well then, princess.

Princess.

Liar!

Why? Because "Martian explorer" rings true?

Wedding-cake maker...

Martian explorer...

Congratulations!

Oh, yeah?

Well, I've become an other, and I'm delighted.

So, "other". . .

letter number .

Get this straight,

I'll never call my son Walter.

Then, he'll be my son.

Setting things straight.

Be seated.

sh*t!

Coco Chanel.

- We're pushing it.
- Don't you start too.

This arrived for you.

Be right back.

I guess you haven't become
what I wanted and I'm sad.

Yet I expected that.

You're at the silliest age of your life,

but I can help you.

Yesterday, the furniture left, today, it was Dad.

He hid the car from the bailiffs.

He sold it this morning,

left us the money, and went.

Dad's leaving.

He feels his professional and matrimonial failure

is his fault and suggests...

What's "matrimoanial"?

Mom didn't even try to lie.

She could've said Dad had become a spy

in a spatiotemporal organisation

and that he'd to go back in time to save Atlantis.

In fact, Dad is gone to Sumatra

to get an orang-utan for your birthday.

I'll call him Geronimo.

"Geronimo".

Philibert...

You've become an other
and didn't even open letter .

Well?

Well what?

Dad forgot you, not I.

I couldn't, though I tried my best.

I'd almost succeeded before you showed up.

- And Philibert?
- Philibert?

He matters as much to me as the Saou annual fete.

I've forgotten Philibert.

And even if I hadn't, he's long forgotten me.

That's how life is.

Maybe not?

What do we decide?

I decide. You, are a crazy kid.

I, am a responsible adult.

So you're going back to oblivion.

Goddam!

Goddam it!

A bit short, young man.

Isn't that your phone?

Could well be.

Mr Merignac? Margaret Flore.

My little Marguerite, this very morning I was...

Don't bother.

I have one minute to tell you three things:

) My name is Margaret Flore,

neither little nor yours.

So drop the country
granddad routine and use "Miss"

old fashioned, but de rigueur.

) I order you to stop pestering me
with those kid's letters

whose legal bind has now expired.

) Goodbye!

Marguerite Flore was born in Saou.

On her sixth birthday she got a pink bike

that she covered in dragonfly stickers.

Then she moved, grew up,
and called herself Margaret"

to seem less provincial.

So I'll stop playing the country granddad

and you, yourself,

stop playing the stuck-up careerist.

Still there?

Let's take that again.

I was born in Lille. At age , I left for Sumatra

where my father was a diplomat.

For my sixth birthday I got a pet orang-utan

called Geronimo who lived on giant spiders.

Like my CV? Still there?

Yes, the minute is up.

I know your time is precious.

Maybe in a month you'll find another minute.

Goodbye.

Surname: Bakary...

First name: Philibert. . .

Send.

I'll prove to you he's forgotten me.

Hello, is that Philibert Bakary?

Yes.

It's for you!

Yes, that's me.

Philibert speaking...

Philibert!

Am I disturbing?

This deal is crucial to our branch.

Your job is to win it.

Hence your faith in me.

I have no faith in you.

Nor any leniency for you as a woman.

Business doesn't care about your sex.

Our sex.

And I'll let no feelings of feminine solidarity

stand in my way.

You respect me, don't you?

I admire you.

In that case,

let's be frank and settle this.

To me, you are just a rival,

but with talent enough to scare.

What's that?

A coupon.

May I tell you a story?

Mom used to always tell us to finish our bread

for the starving children.

I didn't see how eating bread

could feed kids in far-off lands.

I had a childhood friend, Philibert.

He dreamt of being a "hole digger".

Hope he succeeded.

"Hole digger". Where does success come in?

I'm getting there.

Philibert dug a hole in a dry well we found.

Look what the baker gave us!

There you are.

Where would I be? America!

But that hole is tiny.

It's bigger than you. Not happy, you dig.

No, I'm a girl.

- Then, help me.
- No, I'm a girl.

Who won't get dirty.

No, because I'm a girl.

Quiet.

Let's see if it works.

It's from the best bakery in the region!

We'll send some every day! And tomorrow, sweets!

The worms must've eaten kilos of bread

that year.

Is there a message in all this?

None.

Don't worry about your job,

I'm aiming much higher, so for safety

remember to duck, you're in the firing line.

A present.

- You said that to de Lorca?
- Yes.

Malcolm, use your calm.

For once I need it, help me.

- Tell me of your childhood.
- Why?

I want to know. Do we change?

Are you still the boy you were? What's growing up?

Growing up is moving on.

- Moving on?
- Yes.

So moving on is a variable.

Usually, at age , girls get a doll.

I got a visit from the repo men.

They emptied the house on my seventh birthday.

So I hid a pile of plates, now of no use to anyone,

as I'd always fancied smashing plates,

and now I could, just for kicks.

What's all this?

Smashing plates?

One day we talk of kids

- and the next, it's a holy row?
- Don't mix everything.

Those plates stayed in my room, untouched,

night after night, till I forgot them,
like all the rest.

Because I did my all to forget, to move on.

My childhood dream was me now.

And no one,

not even you, will sway me.

I never became a racing driver.

So, sometimes

I console myself, thinking

that my job is like a high speed race.

I slalom between the obstacles

and accelerate to cross the line

ahead of the competition.

It's the same.

Almost the same.

Dear me,

we've no money, but Mom pretends we have.

It's funny how adults lie for stupid stuff...

Money doesn't bring richness.

People are blind to true wealth.

And don't lie for important stuff.

To turn on a tap and drink, that's true wealth.

But Mom forgot to pay the bills.

Maybe money is useful after all.

Not much.

- ?
- .

So Mom sold our very last belonging:

my clarinet.

I understood even dreams have a price.

Sorry, sorry...

Ava Gardner.

Ava. . .Gardner.

For Aleyrac, turn right

then take direction: Condillac.

Nothing has changed here.

Condillac, Barsac

Aleyrac...

Get off my back!

Destination not found.

Ava Gardner.

"NOTARY"

Barsac, Condillac, Aleyrac, off my back. . .

Merignac?

Not here.

So I see. Where is he?

- Given the hour, he must be. . .
- Okay

Here's the deal: , and you keep the lot.

Quiet!

, what?

, Euros.

Why? Still use Roman money here?

, Euros. . . How many measures is that?

- Of what?
- Pastis.

Listen, I know we don't have the same values...

Yes, you know a lot Marguerite. . .

- Margaret.
- Whatever...

Only, you're wrong.

Without the same values
you'd not have found me here

in the best crayfish spot in the region.

You feel no emotion,
returning after all these ears?

- Yes. I feel I'm wasting my time.
- Sure. . .

And time, is money...

You got it.

Keep that up, we'll save time translating.

Shop talk... "Savings", "time"...

Next you'll be spouting "profit", "optimisation"

and "planning".

You're doing it on purpose!

I battle every second to live the life I chose

and I won't let some fusty old letters stop me!

Those wicked letters!

Spare me your cynicism, I have copyright. . .

Careful!

Don't move!

Look at the size of it!

I hate this place.

I hate that rug, I hate your shorts,

this old-world charm.

I hate being cold, and even this tea.

Sugar?

Saccharine.

Honey?

- Why not maple syrup!
- Honey. . .

I don't want to remember my childhood. . .

But that's why you wrote them.

- That doesn't mean I was right.
- True.

As a kid you always thought you were.

From the present we judge
the past and mistrust the future.

Is that pop philosophy, or barfly wisdom?

It was in October.

I was a young notary who'd just opened.

You asked me to keep your mail

and send it to you in ,

in exchange for your savings.

Francs and Centimes.

That makes about euro cents.

Your fees were reasonable.

It seemed so important to you

that over time

it became so for me.

It was amazing.

At the age of ,
you'd done the work of a lifetime.

Notary Merignac. . .

Marguerite Flore...

So I waited all these years

to know what'd become of you, which is why...

I came to see you.

It's legal, no loopholes.

Good. So you can find the treasure
you and Philibert hid.

Nuance, "a" treasure.

It was a game.

It's probably just a bag of marbles.

You take things so literally.

You sign dumb contracts with kids who bury...

How'd you know about the treasure?

From next week's letter.

- What? You opened my. . .
- Yes.

- Only natural...
- It's my mail!

No, it was well done.

I steamed it open and glued it back.

Only I told you, you'd never know.

That's just not done.

People do things daily that aren't done.

- Not me.
- Really?

Like binning a half-drunk coffee

in a non-biodegradable cup?

I get it. You're a utopian.

Who doesn't bury treasure.

- It was a game.
- A treasure.

- A game.
- No, a treasure.

- A game.
- A treasure.

Here, your letter.

It's my favourite.

I've read it so often I no longer re-glue it.

There are grains of rice inside.

Today, Philibert and I

got married.

I promise to marry you.

Sure...

What's wrong? First I kidnap you,
then I marry you.

- Easy, no?
- Cliche you mean.

In years of promises

you'll not have kidnapped even one girl.

But at least she'll believe me!

Promise me you'll become a "hole digger".

And?

And I'll always love you.

Always is a long time, especially for a girl.

Oh yeah? Then kiss me.

Easy.

Okay...

And now?

I've already forgotten you.

Then I'll be a "hole digger"
so you'll never forget me!

Pass me down your treasure.

It can't be still there.

Well, you could dig and find out.

Nothing to lose.

I have. . . My dignity.

There's a shovel here.

Margaret, there's a shovel!

Then dig! To me the past is dirty.

A dress didn't make me a princess.

Throwing bread in a hole didn't feed Africa.

A kid's game!

As for your treasure, keep it!

The mysteries of my childhood laid bare.

- Thank you, Dr Freud.
- Here...

Won't find that where you are.

It's why I live there.

Picasso said something I really like.

He said: "Become who you are."

You're now an art collector
as well as a notary and a shrink?

I bet you tap dance too.

Become who you are.

Why do you say that?

Because it's not as lame as the usual:

"Drive safely and call me when you arrive."

Drive safely and call me when you arrive.

Well, so much for Ava Gardner!

Here's a list of the important things in life:

First, bury a treasure.

That's done, so let's move on.

Jumping in puddles.

Banging in nails straight.

Making the best paper planes.

Repainting Mona Lisa.

- Wonderful!
- A masterpiece!

Cooking all-chocolate dinners.

Running up down-escalators.

Kissing princes.

Not here!

Joan of Arc...

Yeah, a bit wacky.

She heard voices. . .

Just like me!

Still no mail?

Dear me,

I hope you've not forgotten our meeting with
the world's greatest hole-digger.

It's tomorrow.

PS:

Dear me,

it's very important.

Dear Philibert, meet at at Angel Cave.

PS: Dear Philibert, you have to be there.

Another PS:

Dear me,

if you ever keep but one promise

it's this one.

Now listen to my instructions on the tape.

Arnaud, find me a cassette player.

An MP player might be more...

No, a cassette player. Remember these?

- But the audio quality is. . .
- Arnaud!

Hello, Marguerite.

Remember our song?

Anything else, Margaret?

Yes,

try to call me Marguerite now and again.

Thank you.

Find the outfit to suit the music.

You'll be a knockout.

And if you have a boyfriend,

he can come.

Come where?

Down south.

May I remind you we're dining with
the board of PARM

tonight.

I really need you. Can't we cancel?

No.

Malcolm...

I love you, I love our life.

But can't we change it a little?

Like, when did we last make love?

Wednesday. Even noted in my diary.

And where?

- At the Hyatt.
- At the airport.

Room .

Me off to Prague, you back from London.

When's our next free weekend

without work and business dinners?

December.

But baby hasn't happened.

We don't have a weekend off before December!

We give our all to our jobs.

Can't we have one evening not pre-planned

months ahead on our Blackberries?

Even if it were a romantic trip to the Seychelles,

if de Lorca called urgently,

I'd cancel and go to the office.

So. . .

Either you slip into something
that shows your curves or. . .

- Go as Supergirl.
- You are a Supergirl.

No need for the outfit.

Cheers!

Say, is that a diamond?

It's charming.

Charming indeed,

like the diamond wars that
wreak nothing but death, famine,

and prostitution.

You're right, it's charming.

We did our best, Madam.

A dream come true.

An all-chocolate dinner.

Excuse me.

Got an early meeting tomorrow.

As it's a long trip, I prepared some music.

Well, just for your birthday.

Spelt properly.

So the guy says to the old man: "Sir,"

"you have a banana in your ear."

"Sorry?" he replies.

So the guy repeats: "Sir,"

"you have a banana in your ear!"

Annoyed, the old man says:

"Speak up young man, can't you see
I've a banana in my ear!"

Happy birthday, Marguerite!

Amazing, no?

What am I doing here?

Let it play, it's so beautiful.

Meryl Streep.

Mozart.

Meryl Streep.

No, Mozart.

Meryl Streep.

Mozart.

Clarinet concerto, K .

Like it?

Decidedly quaint,

a touch arrogant, yet quite daring.

The music? The art?

Your pick up routine.

Inspired by you.

You can breathe out now.

I played that as a kid

on the clarinet.

Only Mom sold it as we'd no money.

So I began writing letters,

and can no longer play the clarinet, but so what?

Let's take it from the top.

It's the first time in ages

I haven't talked efficiency, sales, contacts...

That bothers you?

Don't want to sit?

- It's just earth.
- Sure, just earth.

We did worse, come on.

Sit.

Now speak to me, talk.

About what?

Anything.

The bison there. . .

It's more like an aurochs.

Or a kangaroo, if you prefer.

It's a vanished animal, talking to us.

This cave is a language.

Its creatures are the letters of
a primitive alphabet.

And the artist wrote with simple words.

Words you understand?

Sure.

He wrote: "Don't forget me."

Count to .

Sorry?

Help me. I've this mad urge to kiss you

and if it's but a passing whim
it'll be gone by , no?

And if not, what do we do?

That's enough!

Anyway, they're gone.

The hamsters, they're gone.

Thank you, Philibert.

I'm so very happy.

You're here, I'm here

and the hamsters are gone.

Marguerite!

Excuse me.

Where do the hamsters come in?

That's it, they don't.

I always thought meeting you again
I'd get hamsters in my tummy.

But no, meaning I can face my past anxiety-free.

We set up this meeting years ago.

I even got a reminder parcel:

"Meet me at Angel Cave, it's importan. . ."

"Important" ends in "t".

Not even a thank you, unsigned. . .

It had to be you.

That was when we were kids.

Seriously, Philibert

you thought we'd start over?

I bet it crossed your mind too.

And now,

you feel the hamsters?

No.

The truth is, they're gone.

Or almost.

To be honest,

I only feel the hamsters rarely,

like when the eyes of rich investors wonder

if it's a Wonderbra or for real. . .

while I worm a few more million out of them.

So, is it a Wonderbra, or for real?

Philibert,

I don't think you can afford a creature like me.

If you no longer fear
the past just tell me goodbye.

It's a Wonderbra.

The meeting's started, are you far away?

Yes, I'm on my way.

Malcolm, darling, it's me.

You're always on voicemail.

Sorry for yesterday.

I've one more thing to settle

and then I'm home, for good.

Tell Ms de Lorca I worked till late.

We'll start afresh,

like we just met, and set it all straight.

As if I'd just fall into his arms!
A childhood crush.

And if he's not a "hole-digger" then what is he?

A bus driver with his two-bit chatter.

I hope you're having a lovely day.

For me, it was the worst day of my life.

We were moving.

Mom told me to be ready by midday,

but at noon I was still waiting.

Philibert?

Mom's looking all over for you.

Are you coming?

I wasn't able to say goodbye.

Marguerite!

Marguerite, it's time to go.

But he never came.

Mom, it's him!

We waited as long as we could.

He's behind us!

Stop!

Get in. Let's go, Sir.

See? You can't count on others.

What matters most is never to
forget those you love.

Rosa gallica...

the ancestor of all today's roses.

What's extraordinary about plants

is that they'll grow on any terrain,

in any climate...

But a rose bush

will always be a rose bush,

an oak tree will always be an oak,

and a Marguerite

will always be a daisy.

Hello Marguerite, everything okay?

Hello, Sir.

Sir?

I'm now retired, my name's Fernand.

I didn't know.

That I had a first name?

Well I do.

Even old notaries have first names.

Mine was barely used,

it's brand new.

You found Philibert?

No,

you did.

It was in our contract.

It was easy, his mom still lives here

and I run into him occasionally.

I can't let a kid of run my life.

I must set things straight.

That's it,

set things straight and bother you no more.

We moved in with a friend of Mom's.

She found Mom a job at the shoe factory.

It's so pretty here,

the future looks bright.

You must be Simon?

Is your dad in?

Dad, there's a lady to see you.

Lucrezia Borgia, no. . .

Denise Fabre. . .

No, no good. Margaret Thatcher.

Yes?

- Hello, Marguerite.
- Hi, Mathieu.

What a surprise!

You should've called.

I was in the vicinity. How are you?

That's Simon?

Your nephew, nearly five.

- And you?
- No

I mean, still no kids.

But soon.

Come on in, have a drink.

No, I won't bother you.

Once every years isn't really a bother.

I was down on business, and. . .

You've more urgent things to do.

No, I just wanted to say

we should start afresh.

Just because we're brother and sister

doesn't mean we have to go overboard.

What I mean is...

I know you don't want to invite me to your home,

I understand that. . .

You know it all, big sister.

Well, be seeing you.

Mathieu.

Do you remember. . .

Do you remember

those letters I wrote

when I was about seven?

You came to talk about you.

Not a word from my dear sister for years,

my son doesn't even know
his aunt and you breeze in

between meetings just so I'd talk about you.

You ask if I remember? Well, no.

I've forgotten you, I don't want to remember.

The advantage of the past is it's past.

Simon,

I'm. . .

Did your dad ever mention your aunt Marguerite?

Look. . .

She asked me to give it to you.

It's nice.

You can take it home, okay?

Thanks, lady.

I had a lousy day. But I understood two things.

First, we'll try . % .

And second?

We have that baby?

You book a room at the Hyatt?

With hamsters or not?

With.

Mother Teresa?

To deal a nuclear power plant?

Ms de Lorca.

I read your report. . % ?

Yet you told them . ?

Yes, but I said that maybe. . .

Whatever, we on the board will decide.

We?

Well, I.

Of course, you weren't here yesterday.

In your absence I was appointed to the board.

To that seat above me you were targeting.

So, no need for me to duck, I'm out of range.

I accept your congrats.

There's a man who wants to see you.

No time.

A Mr Philibert Bakary, he's quite determined.

Don't you understand!

- I must see her...
- Sir, please leave!

You heard me!

Hold on. . . I'll take care of this.

- He says it's yours.
- Mine? Never.

You? Here?

And you? Locked in like a k*ller on death row?

I'm meant to laugh?

And how are you? Great to see you.

What? I should feel guilty?

You want airs and graces?

Well beat it, Philibert. I despise you.

Careful, that's a feeling.

You have feelings?

Philibert, you're a past.

What a slip of the tongue!

Well, if I'm a past it means you have several.

Provincial! Must I spell it?

Hugely quaint.

Jurassically nice.

Ordinarily ordinary.

See? No change. Except for one thing.

What?

Stupidly free!

I guess that too is past?

No, that's mine.

Come back here.

Come back here!

Looking for me?

Or this?

How did you get this?

Merignac. He had a stroke.

Damn! How is he?

He's on life support.

At the hospital, he begged me to give you this

and to say it's the last.

I'm totally lost.

Philibert

Yes?

Tell me you've become a "hole digger".

Yeah, I've become a "hole digger".

Marguerite,

or Margaret if you prefer.

I asked Philibert

to bring you this letter.

Be nice with him.

He drove all night.

I read it, of course.

Whatever you read

and whatever you decide,

know that. . . I'm proud of you.

Your life is a success.

You've become who you are.

Excuse me, you're expected in room .

Dear me,

I've watched Mom since we moved.

She comes home late,

sad, tired,

and yet she still reads us stories.

I want no more pretty tales.

- Still hungry?
- Yes!

Now, what I dream of most

is to grow up.

Yet I no longer believe in dreams,

but in ambition, in money.

I want to wear suits, to be the best

to be admired, respected, feared.

I want to forget all the lies, the betrayals.

Now I want to lie and believe in my lies.

I've decided to grow up.

Don't leave me, Marguerite.

I need you.

Marguerite...

it's time to go.

Right.

Laura!

May I call you Laura?

Because inside Ms de Lorca
there's also a Laura, no?

- They're waiting, Margaret.
- No, my name is Marguerite.

My mom obviously liked flowers.

But I felt Margaret was less twee for customers,

our customers.

Something to tell me? You have one minute.

No, on the contrary.

I've found my way.

And that door isn't it.

That was not my childhood dream, nor yours.

When I was little

my clarinet was enough to make me happy.

So who went astray?

You did.

Forgive me.

Sure, we're all under pressure.

The meeting. . .

I ask forgiveness

of you all,

for fooling you for so long.

And of my little brother,

my mom and my dad.

- We need you.
- No.

I'm not Greta Garbo,

nor Marie Curie, nor Coco Chanel.

I'm not you, Laura.

You'll go in there

with your wolfish smile,

your pretty wolfish smile.

And you'll stun them with your spreadsheet.

Promise me not to go below %.

And as the board says bravo
you'll feel the amsters,

right there.

Anyone anything to add?

No.

Then let's go.

- What are you taking?
- One thing.

Letter number ,

to be opened if I've become an other.

No need to get up.

Under control? How do you feel?

Like Britney Spears about to sh**t up.

Thank you.

Look, that's her.

%

Bravo!

You did it.

Bravo.

Thank you, Marguerite.

My treasure!

"Keep digging"

Dear me,

if all has gone to plan

this dug-up letter will be our last.

I lied: I said these letters were to help you.

Truth is,

only you can save me.

Help me be the one we were,

to believe,

to dream, to dare. . .

Come find me.

Malcolm, I'm sorry.

I'm wrecking my life

but one thing I don't want to harm

is you.

If one breaks things, may as well do it right.

Remember that pile of plates I hid at age ?

One by one?

A matter of taste, I'd go three by three.

Spontaneously, I'd do one at a time.

It's your methodical side.

I've got time. Been waiting since I was .

So... I'm savouring.

Well savour by looking elsewhere,

you're putting me off.

Think of this as our first and last domestic row.

Okay, you asked for it.

Little brother,

where to begin after all these years?

A good place might be when all was well

before I left for boarding school

when I decided to become the adult I am today.

I missed you.

But the truth is,

I missed me, too.

Now I'm fighting for a cause I at last believe in.

But Marguerite's no wheeler dealer.

So I asked for help from an old friend,

a certain Margaret.

And, best of all, great news!

I'm going to be a mom.

That should set a lot straight.

To finance my project I used old contacts

who believe that morality, like dreams

costs money.

As for the logistics

it meant just one of us
keeping one childhood promise.

Philibert has really become a "hole digger".

As Oscar Wilde said:

"One's dreams must be big enough"

"so as not to lose sight of them."

I ran, I've run so far. . .

And it's not over, my dream is huge.

Today, we finished that tunnel.

Simon!

Come quickly!

Let's go, buddy.

The kids were so happy when we found water.

Where are we going, Dad?

You'll see. I'll show you something wonderful.

Some will think I'm condescending,

but I don't claim to be better, or model,

I have simply become who I am.

And I had one last thing to do.

Open letter number .

As I've become neither whale vet,

saint, Martian explorer,

wedding-cake maker, nor princess. . .

it means I've become

an other.

Marguerite...

(I love you)

The age of reason

is now.

(To my five children and their dreams. . .)