Season for Love, The (1961)

[bunniefuu]

What am I doing here?

Distant and dreamy,

everything I love about
romantic engravings.

Household chores can wait, come with me.

I am a man of rituals and habit.

Our walk is sacred,

and I am pious.

The passage of time is a mystery to me.

We are a couple.

People say,

"Geneviève and Sylvain love each other."

"They're happy."

But what does that really mean?

Are we still the same today

as we were when we arrived here
ten months ago?

When I met Sylvain, I knew right away
that our lives would be connected.

I thought I was free.
I was working for an editor

and one day, I met him in a hallway

Romantic, brilliant, and a little mad,

I knew of his reputation.

We had published his first book
five years earlier,

I'm not sure that we sold many copies,
but it caused a stir.

He hadn't written anything since then.

He was content to tell his friends
about his future books

without bothering to write them.

He behaved the same way

with girls.

He liked to impress them,

to seduce them.

He succeeded without effort,

but a week later, it was over.

At first, I thought I was
just another piece in his collection

I expected it and it didn't bother me.

To my great surprise, it was not the case.

Our feelings quickly became quite serious,

and I was delighted.

I don't believe in love without respect.

His way of life suddenly
became unbearable to him.

He asked me to marry him
and run away with him

far from everything,
in a hermitage, of sorts.

Are there still
enchanted islands in today's world?

I know of one.

The ghost in an extravagant dream.

A man, a utopian and an architect,

dreamt under Louis XV,
of building the ideal city,

like Le Corbusier, but 200 years earlier.

The King gave him the money and he began,

then the King died
and everything came to a halt.

In the countryside remains half of a
factory that was built like the Parthenon

Useless and uninhabited,

the miraculously preserved trace
of a generous act of folly.

His name was Claude-Nicolas Ledoux.

He believed in happiness
and making others happy.

There are magical places,
and La Saline des Chaux is one of them.

We could live there, rent a house
that can be our hermitage.

Come on, let's go.

I'll work.
You'll love me and I'll love you.

We'll be happy.

Ten months of loneliness
and ten months of daily routine.

I still love him

and he still loves me,

but we now walk in silence,

having nothing to say to each other.

We have a schedule.

A time to walk, a time for him to work,

and a time for love, too.

He lives,

he works,

I watch him.

But I don't recognize
the face of happiness.

This is not at all how I pictured it.

Is it going well?

Yes, it is.

But I won't read anything to you now.

I don't like the draft,
notes and variants side of it.

You know, Henri Beyle's laundry notebooks

are supposed to have been

the secret to Stendhal's genius.

Have you made a lot of changes
to the characters?

No, but I've enriched them,

they keep contradicting each other,

they're becoming ambiguous,

No hero, no traitor, no psychology.

A mosaic of little facts.

But let's not talk about that.

You've told me enough times,

a book is meant to be read, not spoken.

5:10 pm, time for recess.

Ring! Ring!

Do you remember the utopian writer,

who could have been Rousseau
or the Marquis de Sade's progeny?

He used to describe
the inner-workings of pleasure houses

with graphs and scheduled times.

I could never function
like the railway system!

7:10 fast train to Cythera.

-Sylvain.
-Hmm?

We hardly ever laugh anymore.

We don't talk, why is that?

You work, and I--

You, you,

you help me work.

Without you,
I wouldn't write a single line.

It's been proven.

Love and work are what I live on.

And I'm happy.

And you? Are you happy?

Maybe I'm a selfish monster.

Am I a cold-hearted intellectual?

Is that what you see
when you look in the mirror?

The only mirror I'm interested in
is the one you see me through.

So, tell me.

It's not that easy.

Living on your own is hard enough,

but then, together…

Ten thousand Greek soldiers,
lost in vast Persia

traveled over 2000 kilometers in battle.

Each soldier had a faithful companion,

the strongest helped the weakest.

It was their secret.

You and I

are going through life together,

and you are my companion.

I'm short, you know,

I would have carried your helmet

and you would have carried
both of our shields.

No, you're the strongest.

I started working again because of you.

Never have I found
another man this attractive.

And I no other woman.

I still tremble
when I look at you every morning.

You can't have love without worry.

I am worried.

I like that you are worried.

I fancy going for a walk before dinner.

Are you coming?

I can't. Go and play by yourself.

Of course,

feelings age as people do

and suffer the weight

of routine and habit.

If one wonders,
it probably means one doubts a little.

Believers say, "If you don't have faith,

offer a prayer and faith will come.

I have just offered a prayer.

I think I love him, I think he loves me.

But when I think about our life together,

I cannot help but wonder
what it is becoming.

Is it still the same?

-So, still deserted?
-It's that time of the year.

But the Scotch Lovers Club
is gaining two members.

-The President and his wife just arrived.
-The President?

Yes, Jacques Symphon. He is our great man.

Ah, Jacques Symphon… Yes, of course,

isn't he the former youngest minister
of the century?

Mayor, Chairman of the District Council,

and he owns factories and a newspaper.

Interesting. I saw this in the south,

I thought it was just a local thing

you know, those dynasties
that are half political, half financial,

feudal lords.

But he is very useful and obliging.

I think that's him.

That's right, I supply him, as I do you.

But on a larger scale, no offense to you.

-Hello, Jean.
-Hello, madam.

-The usual order.
-It's ready for you, madam.

There isn't much for today,
but I will have more on Monday.

We can talk tomorrow, I have to go.

-Goodbye, Jean.
-Goodbye, madam.

So, where were we? I think it's my turn.

That was the first lady.

Does she come here often?

Almost every day at this time.

Idleness or curiosity, I couldn't say,

I was, as the Italians say, unoccupied.

Since I knew she would return,
I got into the habit of going back,

certain I would see her sooner or later.

When you meet a girl in an ordinary place,

there is a good chance
you will see her again.

It's just a question of
patience and organization.

I'm delighted to see you again, sir.

Me too, Jean, me too.

-Black Label, of course.
-Of course.

Well, aren't you secretive,

you should have known that
I too enjoy Black Label.

His loyalty to me guarantees
his loyalty to you, right?

Thank you, sir.

Jacques Symphon, The Local Times.

Pleasure, Sylvain Bollinger.

From the very first words we exchanged,

I knew that Jacques and I
were going to be friends.

His slightly lazy humor,
the self-mockery he always put forward

lifted almost immediately any issue
I had with every politician.

We saw each other every day,
every day for a little more time.

as though we had always known each other.

He ended up behaving toward me
as if I were one of his oldest friends.

Not because I was,

but simply because he did not have
anyone else to talk with freely.

You cannot image the isolation
that comes with being a public figure.

You no longer listen to what people say
to you, but rather why they are saying it.

Saint-Simon.

Yes, but I find his pessimism
a little suspicious.

In reality, what he's mostly complaining
about, is not having been minister.

Yes, one should always
be leery of reasoning

that is convenient for the person
who is doing the reasoning.

Just like a novelist who makes
a mockery of success

without ever having experienced it.

And that's what is beautiful with Sagan.

When people talk to her about her success,
she doesn't say "I deserved it"

but rather "a lucky break."

It's was smart and brave.

By the way, I was thinking,
you've never been to the house,

I'd really like to meet your wife.

Come and have dinner one evening.
Whenever you'd like.

I too would like to meet the First Lady.

Goodness,
aren't you sinister this evening.

If you really don't want to go
to this dinner, we can cancel.

First of all, we can't because
you have no intention of canceling.

I will, if you insist.

I don't really mind,
but I don't get the point.

What point?!

Well, we are going to get dressed up
and make all kinds of efforts

for people we don't even know.

You're interested in mundane
trivialities all of a sudden?

That's new.

We came here so you could work.
So I could watch you work.

To love each other.

Remember?

That's all I think about.

But what does that have to do with this?

These people are friendly, intelligent,
a little isolated, like we are.

Strange solitude.

More than you think.
They have no friends, just clients.

Fine.

Besides, we can say that psychology

is a vast fraud, a kind of swing…

The Bordeaux in the small glasses.

-I know.
-I'm not so sure.

Jacques says Hemingway
is the only sensible psychologist.

There still is a difference.

Hemingway or Dos Passos' heroes
don't have a brain to think with.

It's that simple.

When a man writes a story about a woman
in which she is not a sl*ve,

he has her behave like a man.

Dialectically, we will have
to endure the matriarchy.

Women in power,
for at least a little while.

I'm not sure they will ever have reason
to complain about it.

Jacques has a great issue
on the future of grey matter.

And ultimately,
women are much more resistant than men.

Your theories reminded me of something.

I'm sure you don't like jokes, but well…

A young actor, who is playing Hamlet
becomes very passionate about his role.

And so, he thinks, he searches,

and it becomes a fixation.
"What is the meaning of life?"

Naturally, he becomes a saint,
a real certified one.

He doesn't make any miracles,
though almost.

And finally one day, he dies.

Of course, being a saint,
he goes directly to heaven.

and he meets Saint Peter.

The first question he asks is, "And God?"

"What about God? He is the way
we've always described him,

he's an older gentleman,
handsome, with a long beard."

"Oh."

"Does he speak?"

"Oh yes, he talks a lot
and he always says the same thing.

But see for yourself,
you're allowed to, you know."

They go down a long corridor,

at the end of the corridor
is a large door.

He bends down
and discretely looks through the keyhole.

Indeed, he sees a very old man with
a long white beard, lost in a daydream.

"Do you think he is going to speak?"
asks the actor.

"Yes, yes," says Saint Peter,
but be patient.

They listen,

and all of a sudden, they see the old man
come out of his daydream and they hear,

"To be or not to be,
that is the question."

That was great!

I love metaphysical humor!

When a magician
pulls a rabbit out of a hat,

anyone with any sense knows that
the rabbit was already somewhere.

Your theory on free women
is great and all,

but I wonder where your reality is hiding.

You mean my experience?

Oh, I wouldn't dare.

You should have.

It would be funny if you spoke
less clearly than you write.

Oh, I don't write much.

I read your Season of the Uncles.

The story of three women who share guys

the way men share girls,
I don't believe it for a second.

Don't tell me you believe in fidelity?

I believe that you can be faithful
to something that someone gives you

and that only they give you.

Even if it's just a small estate.

You say that,
but deep down you are an Amazon.

Are you saying you are afraid of me?

-Sylvain…
-You know I can hold a liter.

People don't fully experience
their love stories.

They try to make them
fit into social conventions.

They could love in a very different way,
if they wanted to.

So you think that
willingness is part of love?

Are you cold?
It gets chilly at night here.

No, your fire is delightful.

Well, of course it's better to know
people, that not know them.

I have a young niece, she's lovely.

You should hear her
talk about her new lover.

Quickly, in silence and in the dark!

The first time is always a disappointment.

And then the second
is better than the first,

and the hundredth better than the second.

You'll have to forgive us,
but we have become quite provincial.

Let me get your coat.

What, already?

I'm very tired.

-But you can stay if you'd like.
-You know that I can't.

Alright, let's go.

Good night and thank you.

Good night, until next time.

You're not going up to bed?

No, I have a speech to work on.

You were very quiet during dinner.
It wasn't like you.

The most brilliant chatterbox
of his generation.

In any case, the mute is very beautiful.

Your talker wasn't bad-looking either.

Sylvain!

Everyone takes me for
an intellectual of few words,

Don't assume.

Well, I am a lyrical poet.

A hidden, suppressed lyrical poet.

A sl*ve to lyricism
expresses himself only in parables,

I only believe in parables.

-Whose sl*ve? Not mine?
-Of course, yours!

You are all I think about.

Every minute of every day.

-I am suspicious of your words.
-And every minute of every night.

I don't know anymore.

-We could be happy.
-Hey, we are.

Sylvain, I feel like I'm losing you.

Geneviève…

What's wrong?

Geneviève, answer me.

You started working again because of me.

The biggest lie in the world.

Sometimes there's nothing you can do.

No one can.

No, Sylvain, it's not that simple.

Don't you love me anymore?

I don't know. I don't know anymore.

I don't forgive you.
I don't want to forgive you.

Rolande, I'm on schedule,

-I'll have my breakfast downstairs.
-Very well, sir.

He's coming down now, Miss Michele.
He will have breakfast while he works.

Thank you, Miss Rolande.

-Good morning, Michele.
-Good morning, sir. I'll be right there.

Take your time.

So, Solange,

How are the declensions going?

Perfect, but I stand by my point of view,

nine is a little young for Latin.

Yes. Montaigne spoke Greek aged five.

Well, he did.

-What shall we begin with?
-The mail, if you don't mind.

There are two letters that I did not open.

You know that you could have.

-I live in a glass house.
-I didn't want to read them.

You still have some shyness in you,
how wonderful.

And the rest?

Bills…

requests to honor,

requests to consider,

requests to deny.

Who is waiting?

Public Affairs, Mr. Chantavoine, Private
Affairs, the manager, the gamekeeper.

and the squire, your dear Sandra's father.

Mr. Hubert would like a word first,
and then you can see him afterwards.

Very well.

Go get them and then group them together.

Yes, sir.

I've written a general statement
and an investment plan.

Yes.

You should see them
before you meet with Chantavoine.

Gentlemen, if you please,
let's start with the simple problems.

So, let us sum up.
You can sell your timber,

you can buy the horse,
it's a little expensive,

but if Sandra likes it…

For the pheasants, I am going to wait.

Gentlemen.

-He's in top form this morning.
-I had nothing to do with it.

-No?
-I swear.

-Did you sleep well?
-Oh, please…

Oh no, romantic sorrow and no consolation?

There is going to be trouble
in your paradise.

Hush, please.

He agrees, would you like
to review the details?

No, you can decide.

-Which details?
-No, nothing.

The sawmill under the big dam.

-You call that details?
-Listen, Françoise,

Chantavoine is looking into it,
I told him to see you later,

you and Hubert can decide.

And you're a dilletante. Charming.

I would like you to be less aggressive.

And I would like you
to stop hiding things from me.

You're one to talk.

Well, at least
I don't do anything behind your back.

Françoise, you know that you are free
to do whatever you'd like

except a scandal,

you can tell me anything,
but not in front of the help.

That's charming for Hubert.

I impose this discipline on myself.

Fine.

Tell me about the young couple
you brought over yesterday.

-What is it?
-Nothing, sir, you look handsome.

And that's funny?

In spring, the roosters
become the most beautiful birds

-The season of--
-Careful, Michèle.

We're alone.

That doesn't happen very often anymore.

But we have our memories.

No blackmail.

Impossible,
I would be just as compromised as you.

Am I blind?

After ten years together,

the choice is no longer limited
to the blindness of comfort or to cynicism

or perhaps something else,
like an almost fraternal bond.

I am not oblivious to Jacques' affairs.

For example, Jacques spends lavishly

on Sandra, our squire's daughter.

This guarantees his wisdom,

the athletic joy Sandra provides for him
does not take anything away from mine.

You have no idea how happy I am!

-I see that.
-She is wonderful!

Arthur, a horse for Mr. Jacques!

Take Fedor, he hasn't been out today.

-Shall we go?
-Of course we shall.

With her I could win
the qualifying round, at the very least!

I wonder what makes you run,
little sphinx.

The same thing that makes fire burn,
and makes opium soothing.

And the virtue… wait, I remember,
the sleeping virtue of opium…

And that is why your daughter is mute.

What have you done with your virtue,
little sphinx?

Do not be cheeky, or ungrateful.

What are you looking for out of life?

Company from a nice man, like you.

You know, I despise spite.

I only like to laugh.

That's no life.

Well then, maybe I'm a mummy.

It's a mystery,
what's in that little head of yours.

Don't complain.

You don't love me.

Have you ever asked me to?

No, of course not.

But you know, sometimes…

I regret it.

I never do. I'm free.

I choose my horses…

and my men.

You taught me everything.

You shouldn't regret anything.

Diane…

A botanist loves the diversity of plants,

Jacques acts like a botanist
when it comes to women.

There is an astonishing creature
in his life,

who is always difficult to identify,
in her various guises.

To tell the truth, Anne-Marie

is probably more fauna than flora.

Some people enjoy
taking a backseat,

but Anne-Marie enjoys taking the wheel.

A rich and free foreigner,

she treats our town
as a stronghold to be removed

she captures its men as one would
the daughters of defeated lords.

I envy this creature of prey,
but mostly, I find her amusing.

And I can also see what a superior variety
of amusement she provides for Jacques.

What is wrong with you?
Have you read too many detective stories?

I didn't want people to see us together.

Are you looking out for
your reputation or mine?

-Look, my dear, really--
-If it's mine, you're wasting your time.

I couldn't care less! And as for yours--

I am a public figure.

For girls who are public figures,
it's the opposite!

Anne-Marie, let's not argue. Come along!

It's been over a week
since you abandoned me,

you have me exploring
the forest like some girl scout.

-And you dare claim to--
-I am not claiming anything.

-Jacques.
-Anne-Marie.

-You are mad.
-Why on earth?

Do you find it fun?
Nature, the forest, all of it.

Love should be made in bed.

With space, time.

-Do you see?
-I see.

One gets caught up
in the uncertainties of vocabulary.

Am I really being deceived?
I do not think so.

For ten years, Jacques,
my partner in crime

has offered me
the most precious of loyalties

and everyone would probably laugh
if I mentioned it.

Still working?

Does the saw mill issue worry you?

Well at least
someone in the family is worried.

Oh, Françoise, you wouldn't be doing it
if you didn't want to.

-I never said I was forcing myself.
-Oh, why so serious…

Jacques, I'd like to talk to you.

I don't believe in explanations,
they muddle everything.

An apology for the incommunicable.
Surprising coming from you.

We have said everything there is to say.
A thousand times.

Do you think so?

-We're friends.
-The best in the world.

-Let's keep it that way.
-Of course.

You know, I shouldn't go into blaming.

But…

I think that you are lacking
more and more conviction.

The September elections, for example.

-Look, Chantavoine is taking care of it.
-That has nothing to do with it.

Anyway…

do what you think is best.

Just be careful.

-Good bye, darling.
-Good bye.

-Shall I take the Mercedes?
-I'd rather you didn't, I may go out.

Very well.

Inalterable perfection, tireless activity,
unimaginable understanding.

It's wonderful. But we have
nothing left to say to each other.

I wonder if there is a secret to wisdom.
Or rather, a secret to happiness.

Deep down, I don't think so.

Perhaps what Françoise suffers from
the most, is her balance and freedom.

-I thought you were at Chantavoine's.
-I would like to speak with you.

About the midterms?
We will put Boudu

at the top of the ballot.

And Doctor Fauque second, it's in the bag.

-I completely agree, it's just that--
-Was there something else?

-Not exactly.
-Well, then?

-I…
-Timing is everything, my dear Hubert.

No sulking.

-But I…
-Everything is perfect.

Be good.

So, Antonio,
what is the performance index?

Here you are, madam.
I've put everything in net.

-How is your little girl?
-Very well, thank you, madam.

You see, I even drew a curve.

I see.

You'll need to explain the details to me.

Come by and see me
at the château tomorrow afternoon.

Irreproachable. Discretion as its best.

The wife of a great lord

who ran the duchy flawlessly,

maybe without admitting it to herself,

that had to be it.

So you really think that in the finals--

Oh, yes, he has the best chance.

Here's a visitor. For you?

I hope so.

What a wonderful surprise.
We never see you.

Sylvain lets me know how you are doing.

I've asked him a hundred times
to bring you along.

I barely go out.

Have you seen my stables?

A folly.

-I like them.
-Do you like to ride?

-Yes.
-Good.

-Melchior, take Sultan out, will you?
-Of course.

-Are you coming?
-Yes.

-Do you like it?
-It's gorgeous.

I actually know very little about you,
we barely know each other.

-I know a lot.
-Oh, well then.

Nothing I don't like.

You must have many misconceptions.

You do know that the women of
my generation are interested in politics.

In general, I don't have much respect
for established institutions.

I find it quite strange, taking a walk

with someone who is basically
the head of police.

Don't exaggerate!
You'll give me a guilty conscience.

I believe that the system we live in
is like a sort of feudalism,

only with dynasties
and small local governments.

You are something of a duke, here.

For me, politics can only be justified
with conviction,

otherwise, it's just hogwash.

-But I have convictions.
-And what are they?

If I had to choose between
cynicism and blindness,

there would be a little of both.

I have a certain power…

I enjoy it.

But I think I use it with moderation

and often for the good of others.

I believe in tolerance, in letting go,
I don't believe in preconceived notions.

I would almost think you an anarchist.

You fool yourself with the idea
that you are not a tyrant

and it gives you satisfaction.

But you have more contempt
for your fellow citizens

than those who throw them in prison.

Such passion.

I don't believe in politics
without passion

Let's not confuse things,
love is complicated enough.

Why don't you come over
for dinner tonight?

I'll send Bastien to bring a note
to La Saline to let your husband know

and you and I will go directly
from the stables to the castle.

-Say yes?
-How can I refuse?

Hello.

I'm not sure I understand
what is happening.

Jacques ran into your wife
and decided to organize a dinner.

He's just called.
They'll be here in an hour.

-Can I offer you a drink?
-Sure.

What a beautiful painting.
Is it from the Flemish school?

No, a local 18th century painter.

I found it
at an antique dealer in Besançon.

I've heard there are
great antique dealers in Besançon.

There sure are.

We have made arrangements
for the chicken, madam.

Perfect.

-Scotch?
-Yes.

Well…

We are completely out.

-Oh, it's alright.
-No.

Wait, I have an idea. L'Auberge Anglaise,

it's close by and the bartender always
comes to my rescue. Will you come with me?

I do not believe you.

You're still living in the Middle Ages.

A true domestic tyrant.

Sure, women think they are free.

Free to make choices,
free to live as they please.

-But it isn't true.
-How do you know?

Experience.

Women are creatures of caution.

-Now, don't provoke me.
-I'm not provoking, I'm just observing.

I find you attractive.

And you, me.

But until you do something about it…

You will never follow through.

Not with your feelings,
nor with your thoughts.

You have some strange ideas about women.

Yeah, yeah,
when it comes to giving proof, nothing…

Did you say proof?

Well, I'll give you some.

And when you have it,
you're the one who'll be afraid.

Look around you.

Everyone knows me
and people know who you are.

I'll show you what I'm capable of,

the risks I'm willing to take,

when I truly have a desire for something.

I'd like a room please.

A double, for two people.

Yes, madam.

Sylvain…

are you coming?

It's ready.

Madam?

Your key, madam.

Let's go.

That's what bothers me
with mundane adultery,

it always happens in first class waiting
rooms in provincial train stations.

I have a soul, you know.

Come over here.

Forgive me.

I talk and I talk and…

I need a bit of fun.

Are you unhappy?

Have you always been?

Always.

I am a sea urchin
with its quills turned inwards.

Poor little man.

It's crazy how much I would like
to be in someone else's skin.

They should have stores for that,
you could just rent a second skin.

Why would you want to change?

It's funny…

it's like shyness,

we have so much to say,

yet we stay quiet.

I am extremely attracted to you.

But I couldn't show it.

You must resent me terribly.

I have always failed first times.
I care too much.

I only believe in being accustomed.

The inner workings of the heart
are a strange thing.

I don't believe in people
being too confident.

Stendhal was right.

Impotent.

He too was impotent.

Im… po… tent.

Oh, I could die!

It's not a question of dying, my dear.

Relax.

Being in such a state of anguish
is inhuman.

Male vanity is unfathomable.

We are not in a stadium.

No one is competing.

I'm not looking for you to beat
some kind of record.

I just want you. That's all.

Do you understand?

This is just beginning for you and me.

-You know--
-Listen, Sylvain.

We are past domestic disputes.

You don't need to make up excuses.

Whatever you have to say
doesn't interest me,

and I probably already know, anyway.

I'd had a lot to drink.

I believe I was very drunk.

Sandra again.
Her perseverance is admirable.

Maybe you shouldn't be the one
asking me to explain myself.

Go ahead and complain.
You didn't have such a lonely dinner.

You make a funny hermit.

You're the one who didn't show up,
let's not reverse roles.

Excuse me, but I have to work.

Always dealing with problems!

You poor thing.

This isn't chance, it's a miracle.

You exaggerate.

Not at all,
I never come to this part of the forest.

And then today, for a timber issue.

I understand nothing about what you do.

After everything I talked about yesterday?

I knew I was chatty,
but not to that extent.

You look exhausted, I'll take you home.

No. But I'd like
to go for a ride with you.

Why don't you take me to see your timber?

-Don't tell me you're interested in that?
-No.

-But I'd like to know who you are.
-If I only knew.

-Hello, sir.
-Hello, madam.

-I was passing by.
-I was mediating.

Was it gloomy mediation?

It varies.

Well, I am here.

I don't believe my eyes.

I don't understand what's happening to me.

Life has given me almost everything,

glory, power…

but today I'm feeling a kind of…

weariness,

as if everything had started
to feel heavier.

I'm having this realization thanks to you.

I wish that were true.

I don't really know who you are,

or what you like,

I'm almost scared…

which is something that
has not happened to me in many years.

Me too.

I think about you all the time,

I try to picture your life at La Saline.

Are you happy?

It's strange, I love him.

He loves me, probably.

But we talk less and less.

Have you ever been to Deauville
in the middle of winter?

In love too, there's a dead season.

It comes after the follies of summer.

It's a time when you feel suffocated
by the weight of silly little habits.

If you're able to get past it,
then you're safe.

And… were you able to
get past it with Françoise?

I think so, I hope so.

That's not very encouraging.

It feels like all that is left
between you is a social façade.

I think we have
something else that is left.

A type of companionship.

Here is the continuation of the broadcast
of Cabrol's Chamber Music Festival.

Third on the program,
The Wedding Cantata.

When the Lord's hand

Fell on the earth

To punish humans

For centuries of sin
His kindness…

Do you want to keep the radio on
or play a record?

You probably prefer the radio.

I would, if you don't mind.

Alright.

Since you want
to make your bed in the study,

take some sheets
out of the large wardrobe.

The tiger and the tigress

The stag, the lion

The doe

Lived in fear

Submissive and listening
To the voice of wisdom

Of the Lord

Who gives each one their other half

Oh, great fidelity

What great joy, what great joy

Love without sin
Let us thank the Lord

Fidelity, frivolity

Fidelity, frivolity

- The Lord is good
- The Lord is good

Sylvain.

We don't see you anymore.

Well, you know, I'm working.

I've introduced
too many characters to my story,

so it's a bit overwhelming.

Well, it's not necessarily
pen in hand that you do your best work.

It seems to me that rituals
are like additions, wouldn't you say?

That's true, you need to have
all the numbers in your head first

and also some illusion.

I've never been
capable of writing a single line,

but I've always thought I had the most
wonderful novels in the back of my mind.

You're scaring me.

You know…

I can't write anymore.

I might have guessed.

-It will come back.
-May God hear you.

So, when shall we meet again?

Anytime.

How does seven o'clock sound?

Bye.

Poor Sylvain,

he was going through a crisis.

The fragile balance of his life
with Geneviève had been broken.

He was once again enjoying
the pleasures of seduction.

He had called all of my girlfriends

and I had decided
to just smile about it.

I was not worried about
his affair with Françoise.

I knew it was destined to fail,
more or less quickly.

She would recover, but…

Sylvain, however…

At that point, I wanted to do
something for him, though…

I didn't know what.

Are you the phoner?

I am.

Get in.

You think very badly of me.

Quite the contrary.

In this region, people are afraid of me.

I am taken for

a female Bluebeard.

If women like you existed in life,

I would love to meet them.

But I do exist.

I wonder…

No unnecessary questions.

In short, I want to shed light on
what the characters think

within an objective narrative.

Some good old-fashioned introspection.

Not at all! I'm not saying it's true.

I'm saying it's what they think.

After all, they do think, don't they?

Fascinating.

I find it funny
that you're telling me all this.

I'm not exactly an intellectual.

I don't know,
but I'm interested in what you think.

When someone tells me I'm beautiful,

I wonder
what the person wants from me.

And they try to kiss me.

You're beautiful.

And here we are.

Well?

Well?

I wonder--

Now, now, no unnecessary questions.

We are exploring the ruins
of the ghost of a dream.

Extraordinary, right?

Sinister.

I find it depressing. I don't enjoy it.

Yes, I know, you hate failure, right?

Well, not me!

The breed of men
is divided into two types.

Successful men and passionate men.

Well, I only like the passionate ones!

And to hell with it!

The fact that you refuse to find
this gorgeous place impressive

is a sign of
what's going on between us.

Don't be childish, Sylvain.

Ledoux is my father, my brother
and my angel.

and he said it, actually.

"The glory that men give

is not equal to the work
that it takes to provide it."

"It is like a shadow,

always shorter or longer than the figure."

Claude Nicolas…

I drink to the memory
of your little tormented soul.

Sylvain, why drink so much?

I drink because I like to.

I like to drink because I like company,

and I like company because I like to talk,
I just like to talk, got it?

No.

Don't you enjoy my company?

No, no, no, and no. There!

I know what you're trying to do.

You are on the hunt,
you sh**t the big game,

you add a trophy to your collection

No, thank you! I will not be stuffed!

You want me to be the favorite
in your harem, is that it?

You find me attractive?
Abolish the matriarchy!

I wonder where you get
your hunting instincts.

A nice little male is living a quiet life,
minding his own business…

Well, almost.

And then here comes a lady
with a big r*fle and… bang!

Bang! Bang!

No more little male.

A bedside rug.

I'm horrible, aren't I?

Horrible.

Are you angry with me?

Yes, I'm angry.

Sylvain…

Where can you hang around
until 5:00 a.m. in this area?

As if you didn't know who I was with.

Well then, you should be happy.

Happy? What does that even mean?

How can I be happy?

I love you!

I gave up on waiting for you,
I went for a walk alone.

Would you still like to ride?

Thank you, but I'm tired.
But I still wanted to see you.

Will you take me home?

If you'd like, we can stop for a moment
on the way.

We lack bravery.

I'm not sure if it's possible, but…

I would like to live

without hypocrisy.

I initially took you for a cynic.

I'm not.

The moment I see you,

I wonder when I'm going to see you again.

I'm here.

I'll always be here when you want me to.

I feel myself becoming shy,
I'm not used to it.

I know.

When I'm close to you,
I am a different man.

I want to resemble your idea of who I am,
but I'm afraid I won't succeed.

Forty year-old men have trouble
forgetting about their experience.

Shh… We attract for our soul.

I'm not exactly trying to attract you,

but I have never met a girl who
gave me everything you do…

momentum in my heart.

Words ruin everything.

For me, a simple gesture
can replace a sentence.

A hand says everything about a person.

I love your hand.

I love you.

I didn't believe in happiness.

I was a man of pleasure.

With you, I'm happy.

Don't say anything.

Everything is so fragile.

So…

are you really cleaning up your act
or just pretending to?

Let's say that I'm changing my life.

We will be seeing less of each other.

You're making a mistake.

Women have no appreciation
for spontaneous sacrifice,

they like it when
you concede after a long battle.

Farewell.

Anyway…

You know…

having an affair with a man like you
goes against all my principles.

I am the first one to be surprised.

I don't have affairs.

I'm a sensible girl.

No, not sensible.

Grave.

I've never met a girl like you.

Miss Sandra is on the telephone for you.

I've already told you that I am not here.

Yes, sir.

I am not asking you for anything,
you know.

I know.

I am not jealous
and I have no intention of being jealous.

We'll see.

I don't understand.

I'm not surprised.

Let me explain.

I love you and it seems that
you don't love me.

I'm suspicious of words.

Your entire relationship with Sylvain
is based on an illusion.

I have no illusions about my pleasure.

Come on.

you have tried to live outside of time…

away from the world,
in a sort of abstraction

on a false desert island.

You left your occupations,
he left his excuses.

It never could have worked.

I am not someone who makes sacrifices.

I'm not asking you to.

Here comes the writer.

He's not a real one.

Yes, he is.

A writer writes.

I used to have a client who was a writer.

Admiral Boudet.

He wrote about naval battles.

He gave me his books.

He's feeling down again.
He's like that every day now.

Sure, go ahead and complain.

You know it causes blindness.

Good, I don't like what I'm seeing.

Thanks.

I don't mean you. We are like brothers.

You are the light to my darkness.

You're good at fibbing!

We're of similar blood, you and I.

Fine, shut up.

I could never be mean to you.

I know.

Of long-distance navigation.

Here we go, we've taken off.

I no longer see the earth.

I was wondering
where you were k*lling your nights.

But it doesn't take long
to explore the local dives.

Have you met Ursula?

My companion on The Raft of the Medusa.

-Nice to meet you, Miss.
-Hello.

What are we drinking?

You don't mix drinks.

I am opposed to mixing drinks.

Very wise.

I am a technician.

Artificial paradises of all kinds.

All at your service.

Whenever you'd like.

Sylvain? You drink too much.

Okay, okay, you're not the Salvation Army.

Fine, you asked for it.

Madam?

Three Ricards.

How can I thank you?

No need. You're a friend, a real one.

I don't know if I should…
I don't want to offend you.

I'm not offended,

I never mix work and emotions.

I have a professional conscience.
Do you understand?

Not only do I understand,
but I also appreciate that.

Well…

time to go home.

Where is the Pole Star?

When he wakes up, send him home.

Jacques…

we're going to have to do something,
I can't take it anymore.

Me too.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Waterloo, the morning after the battle.

We didn't fight.

Don't think I've forgotten
a word we said to each other.

We dabbled in Corneille,

nobility, incomprehension…

We had plenty to say.

From the moment
you started with new logic, well…

Oh, I did the new vocabulary trick?

All of it.

"A map is not territory."

"A word is not what names things."

I must have had a lot to drink.

And I said…

Well, once you started with new logic,
I was completely lost.

I went into automatic pilot.

Maybe I should let Geneviève know.

She knows, she called.

-Oh, she did?
-Yes.

You know…

I don't really know what I want to do.

I'm completely in the dark.

As if I had crossed
the River Styx to the other side,

no more contact with the living.

Nobody's experience
won't help anybody.

I am not giving you advice.

You know, I've got an idea.

In the state you're in,

you'll never manage to finish your book.

You mean, to start it.

You should have done
something completely different.

-I don't know, work.
-I don't think so.

What would I do?

You could work with me.

If you'd like.

Doing what?

Anything, really.
the business, the elections,

you could change the local newspaper
to your liking.

You can't be serious!

I am.

Listen, Jacques,

I appreciate what you're proposing,

and your state of mind,

but it's out of the question.

And why is that?

There's no reason for something
you find boring, even revolting

to all of a sudden amuse me.

Especially in the state I'm in.

Maybe not.

I'm sure of it.

Alright, old man, I'm off.

-I'll see you soon?
-Of course.

-Sylvain?
-Yeah?

I don't think I find it revolting.

Well then, think about it.

-See ya.
-Bye.

You're not ready yet?
You know that the council meets at 11:00.

We need to talk to Dupont-Turier
before the session.

His vote can change everything.

Did you hear me?

I don't care about Dupont-Turier.

-Are you crazy?
-No, I'm not crazy.

I feel like I'm seeing things
in a completely new light.

I'm not the least bit interested in
Dupont-Turier's invitation to tender.

The roads, the timber,
the wines, the clock, the newspaper

or who will be at the council meeting
for this sad country district,

I truly do not care.

I used to be interested in…

Easter Island, Nepalese temples,

and others.

I never should have stopped
ethnography or archeology, never.

Goodness.

-But we have responsibilities.
-No, don't worry about that.

I'll meet with Dupont-Turier.

Of course I'll talk to him
and let him know discretely

that he'll get his piece of the pie.

Of course I'm going to do it.

But for once,
I'll see things as they really are.

Forgive me for saying this,
but I am fed up with all of this…

completely!

Did you come to see me?

I want to see you every single minute.

I think of you
every minute of every day, but…

I came to see Sylvain.

To take a big leap?

Not exactly, it's not…

This is new, we're processing it all.
I just wanted to talk to him.

He's on the terrace.

You're good for him,

you're the only one he can still stand.

So, not too hot?

No, not at all.

Women only find me attractive
when I am tanned.

I wanted to talk.

Oh, is it serious?

Yes, quite.

I will only see
the Minister of Public Distractions.

An organization of saturnalia, you see?

Right, the dream.

Joking aside, we should talk calmly.

This seems to be important to you.

Alright, let's talk.

Geneviève?

Of course it's Geneviève.

So we gave up Corneille for Racine?

Do you think we're getting a better deal?

I really would like to know
what you think.

I'm not sure I want to be honest.

Not with myself,

not with you.

Saying you're not going to be frank
is already a form of honestly.

Look…

you love her,

you're unsure she loves you,
you don't think she loves me.

One solution.

Leave with her.

Of course, you're having all kinds
of qualms because of me,

there's no need.

At this point…

I don't know if I want
to continue living with her.

or leave her.

I am sure you still love her.

She's what counts, right?

Yes, you're right.

I have an idea, actually.

A diabolical one.

You can leave with her on one condition

and I'm almost certain
that you won't be able to meet it.

I won't tell you what I wish for.

Go ahead.

You have to give up
all your bullshit politics.

You will never be able to do it.

-I think I will.
-I don't.

You are 39 years old,
we have been married for ten years.

We have two children.

You were the country's youngest minister.

You still have
your entire career in front of you.

I suppose you know what you are doing.

Yes, I do.

I'm not an impulsive man.

So, it's very simple.

Once I resign, midterms will take place.

Our list will get through.

Don't put yourself first on the ballot,
but rather second.

There is no risk, and that way,
you'll cater to male vanity.

For the estate, the notary
will take care of everything.

Including the transfer of shares.

Right, Mr. Chantavoine
will draw up the paperwork.

And…

you know as much as I do.

I wasn't thinking about all of that.

You don't live with a person for ten years

and imagine knowing them.

I didn't think you were capable
of making this kind of decision.

Don't tell me you like it?

In a way…

yes.

I recognize you.

You know, deep down…

I never really wanted to do this job.

So we find out afterwards.

Just a few weeks ago,

you still somewhat liked your life.

I don't think so.

We lived in a kind of a…

network of habits.

We hardly ever saw each other.

All that was left was a front.

It wasn't so bad.

It's mostly starry-eyed girls
who suffer heartbreak.

And who write
to the newspaper advice column.

No contempt for the people, comrade.

Don't talk about the people

and imbeciles.

Don't be a demagogue.

Especially not now.

It works when you're in power.

This is a model break up.

Strange that we still
understand each other implicitly.

You're figuring it out a little late.

You have meant a lot to me.

You too.

Let's stay friends.

I'd like that.

But I think I might resent you.

I'm possessive.

You'll have the power.

I wasn't talking about that.

Nevertheless, it's important to you.

It's actually what we can't have
that we end up regretting.

Put the luggage in the other car.

Are you sure about this?

Absolutely.

Then let's go.

You're thinking about Sylvain.

It would be heinous for me not to.

Heinous.

You're not jealous?

Never.

I'm sure this an impulse,
but I'm having trouble believing it.

You know, I hesitate a lot.

Was it hard with Françoise?

Not so much.

She has everything now,
since what she really wants is power.

But power for her is also
possessing you and Sylvain.

-That may be true.
-She'll get used to it.

People will think her happy
even though she won't be.

But you know, what is happiness…

really?

Geneviève.

Yes?

I don't think we can do this.

I don't know anymore.

I do.

It won't work, you still love him.

And you always will.

You think so?

Yes.

You should both go back to Paris.

No one can live away from the real world.

Maybe not.

You should work.

And let him run around.

Why do you care if he stays out…

if he comes home?

He loves you, so…

But what about you?

Oh, me…

I'll figure it out.

I'll probably still leave.

You know, these days,
I can't make a decision.

I'm going to walk home,

I'll take my luggage to the station.

You're being a true saint.

A secular one.

What about Jacques?

I love him.

And you are here?

I don't know how to lie.

Nor how to cheat.

Yet you are lost…

like me.

Not lost.

But I think there are
several ways to love.

Are you trying to tell me

that you still love me?

Not still.

Always.

Strangely, I envy him.

You respect him…

and you're attracted to me.

Maybe you can love two people at once.

In very different ways.

Why can't we do things simply?

"Oh, barrel of the Danaid,

how can one be as happy
as a candid child?"

Sylvain, not this again!

Enough clowning around.

I want calm and simplicity.

No more games.

You're right, I like games.

I'm a child.

Let's be adults.

Always play time.

We must live our lives.

Let's go home.

You are right.

But…

are you absolutely sure about Jacques?

Yes.

You know I am.

Shall I pack our bags?

Come with me.

Hubert, ask Chantavoine to wait.
Have him read the contract.

-Yes, madam.
-Michele, please bring me the squire.

And after Melchior,
I'll look at the timber issue.

Very well, madam.

Mr. Melchior, she will see you now.

Well?

Congratulations,
are you are taking over the estate?

No, God forbid. It's a mess!

What makes you think
I'll give up the horses?

-But, I thought--
-Well, you shouldn't think.

Draw me up some proposals for expansion.

Here is our budget.

But, madam--

And please watch over
your daughter's training.

I would like her to win the competition
on my watch.

She has a way of doing things
with elegance and efficiency.

As if she's been doing it for ages.

I'm surprised she's not resentful.

Michele, is there anyone left?

No, madam.

I want to talk to you.

I'll make it quick.

Pack your bags…

you leave at once.

Here is a year's wages,

to reward your loyal service.

But madam…

If you don't have a replacement for me,

I can stay a few more days.

I have someone.

Your train is at 10:30,
you have plenty of time.

Yes, sir?

-Is this where I can find Mrs. Symphon?
-Yes.

-Who should I say is here?
-The new secretary.

Very well.

You're thinking about Jacques.

It would be heinous for me not to.

Heinous.

He's on your mind too, by the way.

Of course.

We should never be allowed
to sacrifice another person.

I'll take him his bags.

Is he still leaving?

Yes.

You know, changing your life
requires a lot of courage.

I think that's what he's doing.

I wish it was a little because of me.

Is Françoise taking over the duchy?

Well, I'm off.

Listen, Geneviève.

Yesterday, you asked me
why things couldn't be simpler.

What if we tried?

Let's make things simple.

Alright…

let's take him with us.

I was hoping you would offer.

The blind man and the paralytic.

Which can walk and which can see?

-This will get us nowhere.
-And where were we in the first place?

-You don't want to come?
-I didn't say that.

Well, then stop trying
to say it in the right way.

Come on.

So…

what now?

THE END