Emilio...
- Office on fire? - Yes,
your manuscript was due in June. In November, you deliver 50 pages!
72!
You don't even come to me, you go to accounts!
And you ignore my faxes! Do you think I'm dumb?
Dumb? No, not at all!
Shit! It's noon, Francois!
Sorry, I have to talk to Francois.
You're just scared.
This is a nightmare!
Your first novel was great.
But of course you wrote it in Besancon
where you could concentrate. Now, in Paris,
you drink, you've no discipline.
I am not a boxer!
Tell me if you're in trouble, Francois.
I know it's hard, it's tough on you.
What do you know about it?
What would you publish if we didn't write?
Loads of women like you give advances, I can leave any time.
Sadly, there are no transfer fees.
Well then, what's stopping you?
- I'm Emilio. Coffee? - No thanks.
Right...
Listen, Francois...
As I'm here... There's one bit in your text that works.
I don't need you to tell me what works!
Trust me, I know you're talented.
Well I don't. "What can I shove up my ass to power my brain?"
Flaubert. Come on, let's go.
Francois!
The little bastard!
Why do I bother?
He can find himself another publisher.
Pretty lively, isn't it?
Nice and cool?
Thank you.
- Whisky? - No thanks.
Nothing?
- What are you doing? - Creating a safety zone.
This is Miguel Entrentodos.
Don Quixote! Bit on the young side.
He says human and humane are synonyms.
But politics and aid aren't.
We're drinking to the self-righteousness of charitable democracies.
Sure. You've found a fellow tequila fan.
Could I have an autograph? It's for my friend.
Hello. I'm so pleased!
I only came for you. You know I hate prizes.
It's like the "Legion d'Honneur."
If you don't get it, you needn't refuse it.
- I'm off. - Bye, thanks.
I'll just have a drink.
Is that the bloke on telly?
- Are you a doctor? - No. A plumber.
Really?
I told you to come? Can't think why.
I need to be on my own to write, see?
Oh fine, is that it?
Watch my ass, you won't see it again.
- Good. Now you can work. - Leave it out.
Quiet...
My dear Miguel...
You've been through something very painful.
That is why it is right
that you should receive this prize.
I must add that
with Diane Clovier's help,
though her help
is not always conventional... But without Diane
we shouldn't be here tonight, it was she who...
Your skirt's stuck in your pants.
What do you do?
So we await impatiently...
and confidently your next work.
Miguel's book is somewhere here...
I saw you talk to him, he's very brave...
Very charming and bright.
This is our bread and butter, here,
not brilliant but... if you like food...
You've read Francois' book already?
This is one of my authors.
Here, have it.
I've looked after Miguel for a year and a half.
This is his first in French, the others aren't out yet.
I can't find... ah ! Here!
Tell me what you make of it.
Thank you.
Excuse me.
I'm always keen on...
ordinary readers' opinions, silly really.
Thank you.
Help me pick them up.
I must get back, come on.
Sorry.
Can I call you?
- What's happened? - I don't know.
The police are at the Lepluches'.
She's killed her husband.
Move along...
Madame Lepluche's killed her husband!
With a fork!
Amazing!
So, Madame Lepluche has killed her husband.
Careful, it's greasy.
She was asked if she had a lawyer. Yes, she said, him upstairs.
I've agreed to defend her.
So he hits her with a poker?
Who cares?! She doesn't matter.
No, come on...
Antonio's the one who matters, I promise you.
- Really! - I swear he isn't!
I don't care about her!
It's just some woman in the village.
Who? Oh yes, I'll take him.
I can't this evening, no.
Hello Francois.
I see you're hard at it.
Well, I'll be off then.
Tomorrow, at 7.15 then. Bye.
Francois?
I can't. I don't know why I mentioned her at all.
It'll come right.
This is as far as my talent goes.
You don't know what impotence is.
Work on it, that's all there is.
Take your time. I can wait.
And as for the rest, don't worry.
I'll manage.
Come and see me again.
Have a good day... Bye!
Fillet of duck sounds nice...
Let's go.
I'm a bit hungry.
- Aren't you? - Yes, very. I'm starving.
Let's eat.
Sorry.
What's this about plumbing?
I'm a plumber in the Third World.
I got that bit.
I'm a hydraulic engineer.
When did you start?
'91.
What?
April '91.
What about you?
Me?
Yes. Life apart from books.
Nothing really.
I love my husband. Well... we're good friends.
Two children...
How old are they?
13 and 14.
We each have a bedsit and there's a sort of no man's land...
which kind of...
What's the no man's land for?
It's nothing... it's a wardrobe...
I'll be right back!
- God, I'm stupid! - Diane!
Stop it, you're mad!
I must get home!
- Hi Mum! - Hello boys.
- Sleep well? - Yes... very.
Where was the cat?
- There's Dad. - Hello love.
- Careful. - Croissants!
Hello cat.
Were you asleep when I came in?
No croissants for us?
You've had your cornflakes.
- Don't you ever use a brush? - Leave him alone.
Well, we're off.
- What is it this morning? - Delume.
- Who? - Delume, our English teacher.
Wait! I've got the cat!
We'll manage.
He's so dumb!
It's Edmonde Charles-Roux, not Edmond, she's not a man.
Oh ! It's a woman !
I love Chinese food.
Goodbye then.
Oh... I'll join you. At the Chinese.
Well what a stud!
Emilio, I'm...
a lifetime ahead of you.
Help me choose some socks.
My sense of aesthetics got the best of me! Stupid bitch !
Hello hello!
- How much? - 3,800.
Your hair makes you seem younger!
Thank you.
- Have a nice day. - Thanks.
Wait...
- You OK? - Yes...
I want to see you.
Put your foot on the stool.
Bend over.
Cough.
You can stand up.
- What! - Your thing!
Oh shit!
Diane?
Yes?
Such a dull dinner. And they overfed us.
You look sweet.
You look like a student.
Really?
- Are you OK? - Yes, fine.
What's wrong? Your chin's red.
Really?
It's just... we had strawberries.
Are you hungry?
I'm starving!
I thought they overfed you !
I just felt like a bite...
- Want some milk? - No thanks.
Know why she killed her husband with a carving fork?
Because it was a Sunday.
There was a Sunday roast.
But why...
How did it get to that?
She was miserable. He'd asked for a divorce.
That Sunday, he'd taken the best bit of the joint
which usually he gave her.
What's more, the meat was overcooked.
Killing someone with a carving fork can't be premeditated, can it?
There...
Where will you sleep?
It's Francois Narou.
I haven't slept for four days. I'm going back to teaching.
There's nothing to say.
It's wonderful to write.
Stop complaining, no one's forcing you.
I can't get the woman right.
My first book was child's play next to this.
They always are. First novels are autobiographical.
The second is harder because one is really writing.
It's called the second book syndrome.
What time is it?
It's four.
You'll be OK. I'm never wrong.
Sleep on it. Tomorrow is another day. Call me, OK?
Yes. Good night.
I know someone who feeds maggots to a baby swallow.
Weymann-Lebeau, good morning.
Who are you?
I'm afraid Madame Clovier is out.
She's at lunch.
- What? - The music of my first kiss.
- Lucky her. How old were you? - 12.
She was 14. I go for older women.
Screw you !
You must wear leather, they stink.
- I prefer sneakers. - Really?
- Where's Elisa? - With JB.
Cut it out!
Oh. You're not too upset, are you?
No, Cathy fancies him.
Cut it out, I said!
Heartbreaker! Is Cathy good at Russian?
No. She does Spanish.
You're a real pain.
Don't tell him then.
Other one...
He's great, Marie, I really like him!
The way he holds my waist, it makes me swoon.
- Did I miss the foot-rub? - Yes.
I was with Madame Lepluche.
She's OK, a bit upset because...
her sons won't visit, but she's all right.
What's wrong with your sister?
She's in trouble.
Marie's always in trouble.
I know but...
We talked for an hour, then I called round.
You were an hour on the phone?
Tonight, she's better.
It took me years to admit I was an orphan.
I must have been, maybe, 21...
Silly, isn't it?
I should have said I loved you.
You smell nice.
You know the first thing I noticed?
Your gums.
Your lips are all cushioned.
You're beautiful.
You've woken me out of a long sleep.
I'm Prince Charming. It's my job.
Wait... Don't move.
2 months ago, I hugged a little girl.
We were mending a dyke
beside a dam in Bangladesh.
There was an Indian woman with a child...
We were afraid that the dam would burst.
I saw the flood tide, the banks had broken.
I grabbed the child,
and somehow I took the mother's hand...
When the wave came, I let go the hand
and I just held on to the child.
I felt nothing.
For the first time.
Nothing.
- Hello. - Hello duck.
- You OK? - Yes.
I fancy a lie-down.
I'm exhausted
and there's no rush.
Leave me alone... I'm so cold. I'm freezing.
Morning boys!
You look tired, Mum.
Really?
I've got loads of work.
Bye!
See you tonight.
Am I lying down or not?
As you wish. I feel peckish.
I had a piss in the sink...
How disgusting!
How have you been?
Since earlier on?
Sure you don't want a croissant?
I have to go.
I must go! Let go!
- I'm so lucky to have you. - Why?
Because I'm not in love.
Swine!
Don't! I have no time.
Let me go.
When are we meeting?
Never again.
You're so mean !
You work too hard, Diane.
Good morning.
Gaudin says Fayolle has put in for a night in a hotel.
Why? Wasn't the flat free?
When was it?
Thursday. Last Thursday.
I completely forgot Fayolle was due up.
Francois Narou asked for the key.
But Narou lives in Paris! You know the flat is for out-of-towners.
Yes...
He's feeling a bit shaky.
How does a flat help?
Watch out...
I'm abandoned!
Philippe!
If you had an...
An affair...
I mean...
Would you put us at risk?
What is this?
If you were screwing someone, would he wear a condom?
I'm not!
I'm looking for volume two of Dr Zhivago. Do you have it?
For Madame Lepluche.
The prison copy's got pages missing.
I'll find it.
Thanks.
By the way, do you know what happened?
There were two phones in the Lepluches' flat.
One day she picked up the receiver, she heard a woman saying
"I wanted to hear your voice."
So she kept an ear out for the phone,
she learnt to unhook it just right.
Unbelievable, no?
Terrifying. It went on for 43 years.
Can I sleep with you?
- Can l? - Yes.
Emilio...
Go sleep next door. I can't work with you here.
Jesus, this is tough.
I can't help it.
Let he who... cast the first stone.
Stop it!
Wait, I'll make sure your pyjama buttons are done up.
It's all right, they are, they're all there.
What's this about?
"What'sh thish about?"
So you don't catch cold.
These are my ski pyjamas, I'll be fine.
No... I meant...
I'll get it! Don't move!
It's me.
How are you?
Fine now.
How was Christmas?
I missed you.
When are we meeting?
Kiss me.
Where?
In my neck!
Know what?
I've got a hard-on.
I'm on my way!
- It's not clearing up. - No.
Can you fetch the kids from the Edelweiss please?
- What about you? - No I can't, I've had a call.
Weymann-Lebeau's had a stroke.
A stroke?
His wife called.
His wife?
It's a bore, I've got to go up.
- I'll be back tomorrow. - OK.
- Sugar? - No thanks.
I've had one already, I think.
- This is Victor's room. - The one who does Russian?
I've been asked to go here. I don't want to, right now.
Happy Christmas Emilio!
Shit!
Hello Francois.
A little. Go ahead.
What title?
"Maria Republica"? Nice, but it's taken.
"Une femme espagnole." Not great frankly.
Francois, could we do this some other time?
OK, I'll call you. Good night.
He's like me. He needs you.
Shut up!
Shoot, Mum, shoot!
You can do it!
Gotcha!
"That ardent night, she turned Republican." Is that all?
I'm not writing a sex scene!
I'm not asking for one. But what about her...
her agitation? That starts it all.
I'm not up to it. I don't understand women's desires.
I can't do it. I've never been penetrated.
- Don't mess around, Francois. - All right...
Seriously... there are a thousand reasons why a woman runs to her lover.
Choose any of them.
Some women get all wet talking on the phone.
Randy bitches!
They play their messages over and over.
- Women are craven. - Excuse me...
Hello Francois. Better, are we?
I'm fine, thanks.
Diane, we're off to Prague a bit sooner.
And don't forget our lunch today.
So we're using the flat, are we?
Diane told me
you were too shaky to work at home.
Well, we're longing to read it,
- my dear Francois. - How kind.
I hope he was good-looking.
"Lend me your sound, your gentle speed...
"gliding past the lights of Europe, oh luxury train !
"And the strange music of your gilded corridors,
"where, behind lacquered doors, heavy with brass,
"millionaires slumber."
Very beautiful.
Do you have a light?
Here we are...
Give me your bag.
I'll get the papers, I won't be long.
- Are you staying? - No.
I tried to call. I wanted to go to your grandfather's.
Never mind. I've got you something.
- A box of matches, is it? - Earrings. Magic ones.
- Can I see? - No. In Prague.
I'd better go!
When are we meeting?
Let him be mad about me.
How did you do it?
I'm so happy you're here.
Prague is hot!
"Drainpipes and steeples, urban masts
"and broad skies that dream of eternity."
Baudelaire.
Charles Baudelaire.
- Are you cold? - No.
Shit, he's drunk!
- I'm off to Africa. - What?
I'm off to Africa.
What about going to your grandfather's?
In March. I'm leaving in April.
How long for?
Six months.
That's ages.
I'm going but I'm not leaving you. I swear.
I don't care. I don't want you to.
I'll find you a great job in Paris.
I'm going because it's worth doing.
Like you and your books... You're up all night,
glued to the phone, to the TV, desperate for a prize.
You're pushing Francois!
- He's very talented. - He's making himself ill.
We're the same, we're passionate about work.
- No! - Yes!
No! We're passionate about love.
You're hurting.
Come on, let's go home.
You can't imagine how strongly I feel you
even when you're not there.
- She could commit suicide. - I won't have her dying!
When she watches the fascist parade
she leans out so far, you think she'll fall.
Leave her alone, she's only just looking down the street.
She can't die, she can't turn to murder.
It's not an autobiography.
Calm down. Writing about one's feelings isn't being autobiographical.
Come and have a drink at home.
But you did take me to your grandfather's.
What are you doing? You idiot!
It's this way.
- This is Big Louis. - Jesus!
He's been annoying us for months.
- Is it a pike? - Yes.
You bring a decent bottle, and that's it.
Excuse me...
Right then... Bye Emilio.
Bye Emilio.
- Is she married? - Diane?
I don't think so.
- Does she have children? - Two boys. 13 and 14.
And you? What'll you do?
Will you have a family?
I'll see.
Sure.
Sorry.
The Czech deal's gone through.
I'm going to spend a few extra days with grandad.
Goodbye.
Nadine Dubreuil to the visiting room.
Is Diane back?
- Out shopping. - She's cross.
I'm out again !
- It's Balthazar. - Hi.
Have you done the math exercise?
I can't live without him.
I'm sure he's still loves me a bit.
It can't just stop.
I'm with a patient. I can't talk now. I'll call you.
OK.
Thanks, Lepluche.
8000 francs is not much !
No! You've spent all your money. Be responsible!
It's going well now, Emilio thinks it's great.
- Who? - Emilio, you know, my flatmate.
I thought I was your reader.
- When did he read it? - The day before yesterday.
5000 francs would do.
Paul, Francois's coming by. Give him 5000 francs.
Thanks.
Get out!
Hello, Diane.
It's been three days.
We're getting ready...
Everything's fine.
Not tonight, no.
Tomorrow about five or six, if you like.
OK. Big kiss. Bye.
I want you one last time.
Sappho committed suicide here.
It's different to the usual image of Greece.
Personally, I prefer this one.
It's called the Leucadian Leap.
Koskas told me a beautiful legend.
Sappho killed herself for love.
Apollo thought that was silly so he decided
that lovers who jumped off that cliff would not die,
they would be cured of lovesickness instead.
That's a nice legend.
I've found some old prints...
A bit morbid, isn't it? Sappho's corpse.
It won't sell, not enough colour.
It's more original than the standard picture.
I'll show you.
What does Koskas say?
Sappho was wonderful!
I don't want it to end.
I want you, damn it, I want you !
I'm done for!
Jugular... yes...
Quite something...
She kills him!
All right?
Great!
I've just earned 200 francs, guess how.
Don't know. How?
With that madwoman you work for.
4 fucks and she thinks I'm her future.
So now she's after you, surprise surprise.
It was pretty cosy, nothing more than that.
It wasn't nothing. It was an affair.
You needed some loving, a place to land.
She's just an old bag.
Why? What's bothering you?
The great anarchist writer!
You're bourgeois, you are!
Go dig latrines for the deprived.
So she and I can do some work. I can't manage without her.
Now I can't call her,
I can't lunch with her, I am churning out shit.
- Time you went. - I'm going!
I'll dig those latrines for the deprived.
But their governments will pull the chain.
So this is the deal, right?
If I stop screwing her, you do a masterpiece.
Because you're talented, right?
I don't know.
Leave the little darling alone, Emilio... she's a doll...
Shit, Francois! Someone's shat on your doorstep.
Emilio!
That's nice.
I've come to get murdered.
Say something inexcusable.
What do you want me to say?
Let's see less of each other.
So one fine morning, you decided it was over.
It was one night.
Why are you so cold?
"Why are you so cold?"
Why are you so cold?
- Coming? - I'll be right there.
I want you to tell me why you don't want me.
- That's life. - No. It's death !
You're supposed to be an aid worker.
You tell everyone what to do, so...
tell me why I hurt all over and you feel nothing. Go on.
Is the lecture over?
No! Your snobbish, bourgeois girlfriend has something else to say...
Philippe?
Don't leave me...
I need you.
I won't.
But I can't see you suffering like this.
It's over, Diane.
I've come to say I'm sorry.
I never thought I'd do a thing like that.
I feel awful, I've never been like this.
I can't concentrate, I need your help.
Come in. Francois'll be here soon.
You don't know how much I loved you.
Me too.
I was fond of you too, Diane.
You're great. You deserve to be happy.
I fall in love once every 15 years.
You made a big difference.
You taught me about time.
You taught me when not to speak.
Now, you're going,
I'll never see you again.
I'll have to forget you, it's as if you were dead.
Bizarre, isn't it?
Better now?
80 litres of water to get over me.
In Africa, we have to provide
10 litres for a mother with child, so they can survive.
This isn't a suffering competition.
I know. Stupid of me.
Here...
Thanks.
Don't catch cold.
- Careful now. - I'll be OK.
Hug me.
What's wrong?
I'm not specially happy to be leaving you.
I'm dying!
Help! Someone!
Good evening.
Can I have a tequila?
I don't keep tequila.
Do you have any other spirits?
I have some fig brandy.
Thank you.
How much is that?
Nothing, Madam.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
Closing time!
Navy... my ass!
Shit, Philippe!
Open up!
This should be against the Geneva Convention.
When he holds me, I swoon.
Lucky you, you can swoon.
Young, handsome and from out of town...
- What is it? - You'll see.
It's Diane.
I wanted to hear your voice one last time.
Have a safe trip.
Have a good life.
Thanks.
I'll never forget you.
I love you, Emilio, I love you.
Is that your wife?
See? It works.
You know everything.
You see, it's over.
Don't be like that!
Wait a while, things will go back to normal.
My younger son came to see me.
He brought this.
- Wasn't that nice? - Yes, it was.
So he finally came, did he?
That's good.
By the way...
It was wrong to keep telling your husband you needed him.
He was using you.
It was a form of mental cruelty.
You could nearly call it legitimate defence.
Don't worry, I'll get you out...
We'll manage.
Everyone loves you, I've only heard good things about you.
Everyone loves you.
The jury will take note of that.
Some of them will have known something similar.
Some of them will have felt like committing murder.
I can't cope with two cases at once.
Here.
A child in misery,
there he goes,
from his mother he gets
nothing but blows,
in the city streets,
she holds out her hand,
her little voice says,
give what you can.
- Mum! What are we eating? - Shut up!
When you're 20, you cry for love, because you think it's the last.
When you're 40, you cry
because it really is the last.
Never ever, ever?
That doesn't sound very positive.
Suicide? I don't advise it.
Suicide's different,
it's for when you want to become a tree.
A Republican tree!
Bring me the lot!
Dear Francois...
You must mention smell.
Why smell?
It's what's hardest to forget.
The smell of a man's sweat. It smells of geraniums.
Geraniums...
Shit! There's no butter!
Heard the one about the mouse?
Well the mouse came in from the shops,
she crossed the tracks checking for trains,
but a train came and cut off her tail.
Not noticing, she went home.
Realizing, she rushed back to the tracks, checked for trains, got her tail,
but a train came and cut off her head.
What's the moral?
- Asking me? - Yes.
I don't know.
Mice lose their heads chasing tail.
Mum! Stop feeling yourself. You keep feeling yourself.
Shit! It's your fault Dad left.
Well I'm going too.
Don't worry, kitty...
Here, Mum, here's your tea.
I'll go check out the game.
I may go to Granny's for a week.
- Hello Diane! - Hello Isabelle!
Bull's-eye, Eye-tie!
OK, Dede?
Filth !
You're the only one who ever made me want to die.
Shit!
Dede! Fire extinguisher!
Can't see a thing! What is it?
Would that it were more powerful.
It can spread!
Careful, Dede!
I knew she wasn't all there, psychologically speaking.
I'll make some coffee, Diane, that'll cheer you up.
Is it a short-circuit, Dede?
What's going on?
It's my fault.
Someone call the firemen !
But... what's going on? Is it personal problems?
Caroline, what is it?
I think it's temporary.
Don't worry about today, I can take her place.
I hope it will sort itself out, Diane. I do hope so.
We can't go on like this,
this is impossible. Take two weeks! Take a month !
Take as long as you like!
Better for everyone!
She's looking awful. She keeps crying.
You're totally irresponsible!
Destroy yourself, but don't take us all with you.
I'm taking the boys!
- Bye Mum. - Bye darling.
Sleep well.
We'll call tomorrow.
You OK?
"It is true, I found unexpected delights in loving you
"but they meant strange pain."
"I can tell my love for you is witless..."
"Why did you poison my life?"
"I challenge you to forget me,
"I have rendered you powerless to find true pleasure without me.
"And I am happier than you because I am more..."
Because I am more occupied!
She's resting. She won't see anyone.
- How do you know? - She's my Mum.
Diane! It's Francois!
Die! You bastard!
Mum? You there?
Mum?
How are you?
I've just had lunch.
- What were you doing? - Thinking.
I've come to do my practice.
- You don't mind? - I don't mind, no.
That's a big one!
You're so proud and narcissistic!
That's what l... what I fell for.
It was good for me too.
Why do men always have to
imitate their fathers?
What did you do for me? Apart from giving me a bit of spunk?
What did you do for me?
I don't want to live without you.
Too much skin...
Reconstruction time.
Old-timers!
Am I still fuckable?
Maybe she doesn't...
You'll see, she'll be delighted.
- Think so? - Definitely!
- Happy Mother's Day! - Hey, Mum!
Hello Didier.
Hello sir.
Thanks a lot.
Thank you !
That's it!
You've got it! Congratulations!
Well done!
So the tour's all fixed for October,
you'll do Lyon, Toulouse, Aix, Montpellier.
We ought to let Diane know.
Why?
It's down to us. She hasn't even read the book!
She's vanished!
"Out of sight, out of mind, like a naked breast..."
Without her, I'd be nowhere.
Why? Did she write your book?
She gave me energy, she listened. When I gave in, she was there.
She's no longer with this firm.
She is the firm!
You only signed me up!
She was my midwife!
She's collapsed for a reason ! She inspired this story!
The passion's in ink!
What is this? You can't say that!
What do you think I am? A flower pot?
How do you think this firm was made?
It's taken me 20 years!
20 years before Diane joined us,
to chase round our authors for us.
So I'm entitled to a make a scene too!
She dumped you, she set fire to this place!
She kept on hold the only author who keeps us going.
She didn't read him!
By the time I noticed, he'd gone!
You know that was only an excuse.
Why? Are you going too?
Be sensible! We won the prize, didn't we?
Diane, open up! For God's sake, I know you're there.
I've got something for you.
I'll camp here then.
I'm staying.
A SMELL OF GERANlUMS
Look! Isn't that nice?
It's my book!
You could at least check the dedication.
Well this is nice...
When you do something, you sure do it well.
You've turned your flat into a tip.
As "all things turn to ashes" goes, this is perfect.
Champagne?
Where are the glasses?
They're all filthy.
You look a bit off colour...
We certainly deserve this!
I'll rinse them out.
Here's to you !
Here's to our baby!
Where shall we go?
Are you pleased about my book?
Good!
Did you sleep well?
You've ten minutes to cry before we arrive.
You smell nice. What are you wearing?
"Smell of Geranium."
I should get a royalty.
In this day and age, to be in love
demands compromise.
Some people cannot accept such compromise.
Absolute passion is a tragedy.
Does it put people beyond society?
No! Passion has its place!
To Madame Lepluche love was a great ideal!
When your wife comes home at 4 a.m.,
have you never considered knifing her... with a fork?
Plunging a fork in her neck...
Do you know what it is to shudder, your heart trembling,
as you overhear words of love destined for another?
Mme Lepluche forgave him all.
43 years of deception, of lies,
43 years of abuse.
How could she let him leave, let him go forever?
The idea was completely unbearable.
Let him do as he pleases, yes!
But leave her, no!
He had no right.
Because she had always given him every right.
Members of the jury...
Marguerite Lepluche, learning of her divorce...
or rather, when he broke the news, he broke the mad pact
she had lovingly, obsessively constructed.
When love turns tragic,
murder, suicide or survival are the only solutions.
He had murdered slowly for 43 years, she did it all at once.
So as not to go mad, she took action ! Alone!
Do we call that a crime?
Is it not rather
legitimate defence?
Murder made no difference to her fate.
She had lost forever the only thing that mattered.
Members of the jury...
You OK, Dad?
Fine, darling.
Go to bed.
I can't sleep.
I don't know... Go to bed.
Is Mum coming home soon?
Yes. Soon.
Members of the jury...
15 years in jail...
We have all suffered a loss.
In the name of that loss,
I ask you to grant Mme Lepluche her release within the year.
I sound like shit!
What the hell's she up to?