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THE SAFE HOUSE
LIGHT, DESPITE THE DARKNESS.
This film is inspired by a novel,
inspired by the childhood memories of the author, Christophe Boltanski.
IN A CLEAN WORLD, YOU MUST BE DIRTY.
BACTERIA PROTECT US.
It relates his family's life by describing
the rooms in their apartment on Rue de Grenelle in Paris.
I often walked past their door,
but never pushed it open,
preferring to keep within me the images that the book had brought to life.
What are you up to?
There's a cat under here.
How could a cat get under the floor?
How could it get under there?
No room for a finger.
I'm not lying.
I'm not saying you are.
You believe there's a cat, but there isn't.
Believing isn't lying, do you understand?
OK...
You'll catch your death of cold.
It's just an expression.
If you believe there's a cat,
then, there is one, in a way.
Come on.
Let's make a pact:
If you believe me, and only if you do,
I swear to say the whole truth.
Well, the only truth that matters:
theirs.
Improbable Life
Gimme a break!
Your blood test is good.
Iron's a bit low, but nothing to worry about.
I'll prescribe a dietary supplement.
It's mostly when I drink tea.
I feel dizzy after that.
You put schnapps in your tea?
No, Doctor!
You don't think it's the tea?
I don't see why.
The Chinese are said to add iron filings to lapsang souchong
so they can use us as human radars when they invade us.
So, drink English Breakfast.
I know how to stop them.
How?
By putting a spoon in my anus.
It redirects the waves toward electronic devices.
That's why the machines went wrong when you sent me for tests.
They didn't spot the spoon in your rectum
when they gave you an enema, Mrs. Jacob?
No!
I put it in the front.
I have a great colleague who specializes in waves.
You really must see him.
He's a Maoist and speaks Chinese.
Examine me, Doctor.
You're the only one I trust.
Here's what I'll do: I'll go outside for a short while
to give you time to remove your spoon.
Then, we'll talk over a cup of herb tea.
Coffee is safer.
The Cubans don't have the technology yet.
True.
Don't mind me.
- Pardon me? - My car isn't a bar.
Unbelievable!
Really? You liked it?
It's full. That's good!
Full of not much.
Is Jacquemet-Richard there?
- And Andrieu? - Yeah.
- Berthier? - Guess it's beneath him.
That's a good sign. The trendy lefties will come see for themselves.
- Bettany? - He didn't comment.
Go get him.
Great, thanks.
Wasn't the glass full when you took it?
Lots of pompous, bombastic assertions,
so typical of Parisian previews.
They plow the lexical field like truck farmers.
They find it "fresh, vibrant, colorful, juicy".
So, they like it.
Must they like it?
They wish someone else could decide for them.
Move over.
Here he is.
My dear...
Bravo, magnificent. Hi.
Thanks, Pierre, but I expect more from you.
It's not innovative.
Why should "innovative" mean "interesting" or "good"?
Let's look at the characters' story from May 3, 1968.
Why that day? Well, you'll soon find out.
They are striving to put
one in the spotlight so the rest stay in the shadows.
Not true.
Yes, but in a moment, History
will appear in our film in May 1968 and reveal France itself.
- Improbable Life: great title. - Thanks to...
Maybe even our heroes. Who knows?
3, 2, 1...
- Mom! - Hey, big boy.
Hi!
Were you at Nanterre?
I hear the students went on strike. The riot police showed up.
- Is it serious? - People were hurt.
And there's a blockade.
Let's follow suit out of solidarity.
Shouldn't it be out of conviction?
Yes, out of conviction. That's what I meant.
Can you keep him for another night?
You need to ask him.
So, you rogue, how about staying at Rue de Grenelle another night?
Hello.
Just bills.
Ball games and bikes in the courtyard are banned...
Let me introduce them.
There's the boy. You've already seen him.
To please is not to displease.
It's a more effective linguistic formulation.
She's Grandmama.
What does it matter if we only sell 1?
Well, at home she is.
Outside, we must call her Aunt.
There's Grandpapa.
- The buyers may not like them. - So what?
He's Great-Uncle, the eldest.
Don't try to sell the love you don't feel.
Here's Little-Uncle, the youngest.
The boy's parents are called... the boy's parents, period.
As if punished for starting a home outside Rue de Grenelle.
Like a tumor, Grandmama wrote once.
Shut up.
I want someone to say "It's beautiful".
It's beautiful!
Someone from outside.
Outside means everything outside the apartment.
They all live there, as if
forming a single body.
Don't slam the door. You scared me.
She's Grandpapa's mom, aka the Hinterland.
You'll see why.
Leave Prokofiev on, it's beautiful.
Prokofiev always was a hothead.
At the swimming club in Odessa,
I looked after the kids in the summer vacation
to make some money.
He was in the Dolphins group.
We'd do breaststroke...
Thanks. Do you want to smoke? No, you don't.
We'd do breaststroke, he'd do the crawl.
And when we got out of the water,
he'd still be doing the crawl.
What's that?
- Can you swim? - No!
A town without the sea is a bitter one.
Poor little Parisian!
So, what's your excuse to come sleep here?
Mom and Dad asked if I could stay.
No, I'm not hungry.
At your age, I was restless, too.
I kept running away.
I didn't...
My father would lock me in my room.
I'd just go through the window.
On the 5th floor!
Why did he lock you up?
Because there was so much to see in Odessa's streets
that I couldn't envisage staying indoors.
My dad knew that.
More than in Paris?
I hate to criticize Paris...
- But it's very different. - Why?
You know the Port de la Tournelle?
Call that a port?
No.
Yuzhnyi...
That's a port.
The boats there...
and the navy ships
with guns...
Sailors standing to attention.
Put Sergei back on.
One day,
I'll take you to Odessa.
If I don't, you won't have seen life.
Boursin! Boursin, Boursin!
Truth is boring and hard to paint.
He should take photos if he likes reality.
How is photography more realistic than painting?
I ran into her last week.
She seemed OK, but... we had nothing to say.
You never did.
She wasn't your type.
Truth is in mail-order catalogs.
Great color photos.
Eat Camembert, it's good for you.
Charles de Gaulle is now in Bucharest.
The General was greeted by Nicolae Ceausescu
and by a warm, enthusiastic crowd.
In a clean world, you must be dirty.
It protects us from bacteria.
Look, do this.
It strengthens your hair.
Bravo!
At Nanterre University, due to unrest, classes are suspended.
At 5 PM, the police went to the Sorbonne...
- Will we see Mom and Dad? - Maybe.
Prime Minister Georges Pompidou spoke later on.
Students,
don't follow the agitators
who say themselves
they're not interested in most of you.
Listen to reason.
He has tarantula legs for eyebrows!
- What? - Tarantula legs. Spider legs!
You're right. A big disgusting spider that climbs
up and up and up!
Can I listen to this?
"Today produces what yesterday couldn't imagine."
That's good.
When you like butter, you choose Virlux.
You recognize this passerby...
- It's Candid Camera. - Yeah!
It's portable equipment
for use in the Candid Camera show.
Universities: After the closure of Nanterre,
extremist students stopped lessons at the Sorbonne.
The campus...
The kitchen is the core of the family reactor,
fed by the Hinterland.
Hurry, get ready for school.
Every day, she connects them to their origins by food,
like a bird giving her babies her scent
so they can find the nest.
Even if they're no longer babies.
Jean-Claude Bailly, you've followed
the demonstration, where do we stand now?
At the Sorbonne, where I am now,
annoyance combines with the tension which is ever growing.
For 3 hours, Boulevard...
Drink your hot chocolate.
To give his exhibition every chance of success,
Little-Uncle decided to keep kosher...
but allows himself some goy delicacies.
Why wear a pullover over your shirt?
It's OK, Mom.
Let's hear from the Education Secretary Mr. Alain Peyerefitte.
The forces of law and order only went in
because the forces of lawless disorder had gone in.
20 officers have been wounded
and about 30 demonstrators.
Sporadic fighting is still going on.
In the Latin Quarter, police are there...
Listen.
"Mrs. Charles-Antoine Le Normand-Pichard,
her sons Jean-Baptiste and Samuel, her cousins and friends...
regret to announce the death of Charles-Antoine Le Normand, cardiologist
and distinguished member of the Academy of Medicine."
Great!
Dear Charles-Antoine, I remember him and his bow tie.
You'll get into the Academy.
Or a dozen other colleagues.
You're better. It's our turn now.
Go see the Academy this morning.
- I have patients. - I'll tell them.
- What if there's an emergency? - It's rare.
- I don't know... - I'll get your suit.
- And your shoes. - Don't gawp.
Hurry. We leave in 5 minutes.
Go on, go.
At 10.30 PM, De Gaulle's airplane lands at Orly.
He's back from his trip to Romania 12 hours early.
With the Prime Minister who greeted him,
he meets the members of his government.
Everyone has in mind Mr. Pompidou's speech 2 days before:
"Students, don't follow the agitators.
Listen to reason.
The government must defend the Republic, and it will."
Thanks. Have a nice day.
Speak to Professor Chabert.
He calls the shots at the Academy.
Say to him:
"I've been thinking of you."
Why would I?
What's his specialty?
Amputations.
3rd!
Say: "My dear Chabert,
I saw a patient whose arms had been amputated."
- But it's a lie. - Yes...
But lies, like truth, reside in sentences...
4th!
Words determine each other.
They only obey the laws of syntax and semantics.
- Am I alone in not understanding? - No.
In linguistics, lies don't exist.
It'll be OK.
Grandmama's Citroën Ami 6 is their apartment's mobile part.
As long as they're inside, they feel safe.
Since when is right priority?
It may seem paradoxical,
but as we said, this film tells their story.
A doctor's death is a tragedy.
Medical practitioners
dedicate their lives
to relieving pain and healing disease.
My dear friend,
I've been thinking of you...
while talking to a woman without arms...
My dear Chabert...
how are you?
Well? Good, good...
Better than my woman without arms.
Dear Eugene,
bravo for your speech.
Let me shake your hand while I still have one.
What are you waiting for? Go on!
So?
It's in the bag. Let's go home.
Sundays?
I putter around. I mend clothes or...
Hey, enough of that!
Read your comics.
What did we say? Keep quiet.
Where were we?
You said you mended clothes on Sundays.
And TV... Yes, I watch TV.
It's a distraction.
I like medical shows
on surgery and medicine.
I never miss them.
- Mom, look. - Yes.
- It's educational. - Yes, but my husband grumbles.
They're on late.
"If you want to learn, buy medical books."
It's not the same thing.
You don't see it all in books.
But on TV, you see it all.
I don't have time to go to the movies,
so it's an escape for me.
I'm at home all the time.
My husband's at the factory. It's no life.
We're never together on our own.
Do you miss it?
Yes, I do.
Of course I miss it.
Grandmama dictates novels about discarded people,
a people who have no say.
Everything betrays the milieu she grew up in,
that of an old French, monarchist, narrow-minded family.
4 baguettes, please.
OK.
- And a strawberry tart! - No.
Just 4 baguettes.
- OK, ma'am. - Thank you.
You won't get me with your holier-than-thou face.
Please!
OK, if you win... you get a strawberry tart.
I accept the challenge.
You win.
Strawberry tart!
Jean-Louis Barrault said he no longer ran the Odéon.
Anyway, he had no choice.
It'll become a discussion forum.
It's unfair. He's a good guy.
He welcomed Georges, André, and me.
- Know Breton and Bataille? - No.
- Know who I am? - No.
Pity.
The slogans are great. Listen.
Everyone is free to be free.
Barricades close the street, but open the path.
Motions kill emotion.
Banning is banned.
That's not us. That was Jean Yanne.
- Are you sure? - Yes.
- Who's Jean Yanne? - A comedian.
Steal your happiness.
Imagination in power.
Run, comrade, the old world is behind you.
What a great example of recruitment, rallying, and recognition.
You're too young to drink.
I knew Jaurès well.
A lousy dancer.
What's that to do with Barrault?
People aren't always up to their reputation.
- Take Pétain. - What?
Great dancer.
He saved France in 1918. He can do it again.
Has no-one told her about him?
The Education Secretary talks about blockages, not causes.
Never mind.
- He's right. - That's typical of you.
I didn't say I agreed with him.
What's not mentioned doesn't exist.
Lots of truths only exist for those who experience them.
History is what is shared.
He claims our struggle is a feeling, not a social truth.
He outstrips you.
He makes us look like fools.
- Yeah. - What're you up to?
- It's for my cat. - You have a cat?
- No. - Yes, under the floor.
Show me.
The idea is to create a cascade.
For it to work, one anger must spill over onto another, and then another, and so on.
It's like a waterfall.
Mom, Pétain is dead.
Oh, gosh!
It won't come out.
It's not 'cause we can see it, it exists.
If the cat under the floor
is Mr. Schrödinger's, it can be and not be.
Who's Mr. Schodiger?
Mr. Schrödinger put his cat in a box.
An atomic mechanism let the cat die
or let it live. It was totally random.
Till the box was opened, you couldn't know
if the cat was dead, alive or both.
Dead and alive.
It's as if we were all here...
and all absent.
What's happening?
Gunshots?
No, a bomb.
That's...
the Krauts.
Did you close the door, Mrs. Lahrer?
Once, on one of those terrible days,
he asked her how he could live without her.
She said that wasn't the question.
So, the question no longer arose.
Let's go to bed.
I'm not sure they still work,
but put them on. They'll protect your eyes.
They aim at the eyes, then the legs.
- OK? - Yes.
Hey, you rogue!
What's happening on the streets is important for your future.
Your world may be completely different from ours.
Take care.
I'll call you.
Don't cry.
Sadness doesn't belong here.
It stays outside, OK?
Dialog has broken down with the union reps and the students.
The watchword seems to be the resignation
of President Charles De Gaulle.
Jesus Christ said to the apostles: Follow me, walk on water
Without getting each other wet They followed at once
So, Jesus Christ amusingly Invented water skiing
Hallelujah!
Banning is banned
Hey, guys!
Jesus Christ said: Bring me some bread and fishes
I'll multiply them And the Hebrews were comforted
So, Jesus Christ cleverly Invented self-service
Hallelujah!
Jesus Christ in the silence Of the garden of Gethsemane
Said: I want to accuse myself Of my disobedience
So, Jesus Christ, somewhat uniquely Invented self-criticism
Hallelujah!
- Enough of that racket! - Sorry.
When do you start work here?
It depends. Usually at 7 AM.
- You're here at 7 AM? - Yeah. What's this for?
- The questions you ask? - It's for me.
I'll type it all up afterwards.
You can speak freely. I won't mention your name if you wish.
The truth is, I sleep here.
I'm not alone. There are several of us.
I sleep in Block C as it's nearly done.
Finished, I mean.
- Is that the word? - Yes, finished.
Yeah. There's a roof...
There are several of us.
When we need a bathroom, there's that bar.
The landlord is understanding.
Well, if we drink!
And some sure do.
I don't. I just drink coffee.
- I put salt in it. - Salt?
Yes, I put salt in it, because...
it makes you feel less hungry.
Gotta go.
Sure. Thank you.
Hey, do you do a group rate?
Pardon me?
Examine us, too!
How about that?!
Can't I get a beer? It's been a long day.
Thanks.
You're not on strike like your comrades?
We gotta eat, ma'am.
Would it change anything?
- No. - We're free.
- No-one can stop us. - Yeah.
- It's a right. - Our right.
But to work, you need to have work.
People need housing.
For all those students when winter comes, right?
The barge workers are on strike,
so the sand won't come up the Seine on its own.
Even if it did, there'd be no-one on the quay.
Yeah, the road hauliers have joined the students' movement.
Sooner or later, you'll lose your jobs.
Your unionized colleagues will hate you.
Strikers and free men.
Because it's a right.
Gentlemen...
Bullshit!
Expropriation in the common interest
Grandmama isn't nostalgic and is wary of memories.
The family never celebrate birthdays
or commemorate important dates.
Time seems stuck in an infinite present.
The past doesn't merit looking back.
This morning, Boulevard Haussmann was gridlocked.
Sweetbreads with fresh tagliatelle.
For me. Thanks.
Brains in black butter and tripe.
And steak, well done.
- Enjoy your meal. - Dig in.
It's now the Che Guevara auditorium.
Ridiculous. Why not Mao Zedong?
Too hard to spell for those young fools.
You're quiet. What do you think?
I'd rather be 20 years old in 1968 than in 1917.
That's not the point!
- They have it all. - We had balls.
- As big as... - ...Alsace-Lorraine!
- OK, gentlemen? - Some more red, please.
Do you know who'll replace
Charles-Antoine at the Academy of Medicine?
Who wants that job nowadays?
Will it still exist when the Trotskyites seize power?
You hate 'em!
Languelet is in line.
A pediatrician? Nonsense!
Why not an anesthetist?!
Or a general practitioner!
Police! Stop!
De Gaulle, resign!
There we are.
Well...
- Goodbye. - Bye.
Bye.
Hey, rogue, mind staying a bit longer?
No.
Why?
We're changing the future, it's hard.
The barricades have been stormed by the CRS.
Who cares about the SS?
The CRS, the riot police. Not the SS.
The battle lasted 4 hours.
Teargas canisters exploded...
- So? - There are casualties.
3 CRS.
On one side, the wounded
are undefined and dehumanized. On the other, 3 CRS. How objective.
Why should they be objective when we're not?
I won't sell anything now.
It's official, I won't sell a thing!
Unions have voted for a general strike next Monday.
The kid draws better than you.
So, exhibit his stuff.
If you're staying, you need more clothes
'cause you're starting to smell like yesterday.
I kept your dad's and your uncles' clothes.
I was told to get rid of them, but I knew they'd come in handy one day.
And that day...
is today.
So...
No.
And this?
Don't like it.
This is chic.
No.
- This? - No.
You're picky.
- That! - What?
That's what I want.
Really?
What will his teachers say?
It didn't always bother them!
It's my sheriff's star!
Just remove the...
He won't remove it. And he's right!
'Morning.
What a nice suit.
Always showing off.
They're snobs.
I'm the State
De Gaulle spells chaos!
His master's voice
Back to normal
Be young and shut up
May '68: A long struggle begins
Beauty is in the street
Even Monory sells more than me. Shameful.
Let's put "The Girl with the White Boots" in the window.
No, what's worth being seen is on the walls for free, for all to see.
No-one honest can live off their art.
It's best that way.
So, we did all this for nothing?
Well, we have enough money to be happy.
Why do you say "we"?
I paint and I won't sponge off you forever.
You call it sponging?
- You get me. - No, I don't.
I have to live my own life.
Did your dad and I handcuff you?
You lot confuse bonds and ties whilst advocating freedom!
Careful, dammit! It's hot!
Not him!
Who is it?
It's the 3rd time he's come.
He walks around and leaves.
- It's annoying. - Hide. I've got this.
You're crazy.
Wanna sell your paintings?
No!
Hello. Can I help you?
Isn't the gallery open?
The owner is on strike on the coast,
in solidarity with the workers and students, of course.
I'm not sure it'll bring down the government.
Which painting interests you?
Several, actually.
Care for a cup of tea?
Thank you.
Have you sold "The Purple Boots"?
Yes. This morning
The buyer was very interested in many other paintings.
It's the artist's first exhibition, but he seems very mature.
He turns the conviction of his generation into an art form.
Look at this.
It's a series I really like.
There's repetition, but nothing is the same.
Even mass-produced, these pants only take shape when worn.
They're bodies hidden inside the painting.
They're jeans, but it's really about a destiny,
a future.
Pants made to move in,
whether you're a man or a woman.
I feel like the creator is a friend I don't yet know.
A friend or a lover maybe?
Good painters only speak about the viewer.
You know the artist well, it would seem.
Do we really know those we love?
You love him?
You could say that.
He's lucky.
And talented.
- Goodbye, ma'am. - Goodbye.
What was I saying?
- That I'm selfish. - Right.
If you want to leave home, go right ahead.
But you should know there are no free rooms in town.
Not recommended for use by the disabled
We inform passengers
that lines 2, 3, 5, 7, 9...
...are on strike.
We apologize. Please use lines 5, 3,
7, and 6
by taking 1, 5, 3, and 2.
Keep away. My husband's a doctor.
Well, he's not here.
You need help.
She's bleeding a lot.
- Was the walkway too fast? - She wanted to pass me.
Then, she fell.
I won't press charges if you're worried.
Why would you?
It's not for use by the disabled.
I'm not!
Hello.
- OK? - She wouldn't let me examine her.
There's nothing broken. Will you take her?
- Yes, thanks, Doctor. - You're welcome.
Goodbye.
What happened?
I got knocked over.
Does it hurt?
Terribly.
Could someone kindly
pass me
those damn carrots?
Please.
There is rioting in Nantes, Lyon, Bordeaux, and Strasbourg.
Paris sees a night of fury.
Uncontrollable groups
have joined the angry students.
The Latin Quarter has been shaken by unprecedented violence. 400 wounded...
Can you pass the tuna?
- There's some mackerel left. - So selfish!
It's still fish.
Stop fighting.
Your mom had a rough day.
Why were you outside the car?
I'm allowed a private life.
That's new.
In this unprecedented, extremely serious situation,
the President will hold an emergency meeting tomorrow.
Death to pathos.
Where were you?
I was with the others.
Swing your right arm forwards,
wait for it to go under your chest, then swing the left one.
Rhythm!
Listen to Nikolai!
Who's Nikolai?
He wrote the music.
A better composer than a lover, believe me.
The crawl is just about rhythm and breathing.
Breathe.
Head out of the water!
Woe is me...
Like a dog falling off the Vorontsov Lighthouse!
Can we stop?
At least go to Sinbad's boat.
- Is it far? - To starboard
- Where is it? - There!
Come up here.
If I hadn't been on my boat, you'd have drowned.
You'd have been whipped for that.
Not if I've drowned.
They'd have brought you back to life, then whipped you.
That's how my father taught me to swim.
Was he mean?
It's the period that was mean.
You had to be tougher to beat it at its own game.
Life is full of ideas when it comes to being mean.
Give me a kiss.
- Another kiss. - No.
Ouch!
Wait! Not so fast!
You know I only tell the truth, but you'll have trouble believing this.
Let me explain.
First, the historic facts.
On the morning of May 29, 1968,
General De Gaulle didn't hold the meeting.
No, he got into his Citroën DS
to go home to Colombey les Deux Eglises.
But he never got there.
No-one in France currently knows where he is.
Even his bodyguards have lost him.
It's worrying as he was preoccupied...
depressed...
demoralized by the situation.
An old Yiddish proverb says:
"Clever people talk of what they've seen; fools of what they've heard."
So, let's see what really happened on the morning of May 29, 1968.
Well, what probably happened.
Here goes. 3, 2, 1...
Can you help me, boy?
There's the news anchor in the kitchen.
- What? - It's true. Come see.
What is he talking about?
You, General.
Could you possibly hide me for a while?
Wake up.
Look.
General...
Anyone home?
Hello?
- Come, follow me. - This way.
Come on!
Why do we always take in the poor huddled masses?
Can I help you?
Maybe.
Have you recently had a strange encounter?
What kind of encounter?
An encounter...
that's unusual.
Is this Candid Camera?
Where is it?
- You won't find anything. - You sure?
You can search the place.
It's Candid Camera.
There's a problem
with our boiler, so we only use this room.
Look under the table.
Your colleagues, 25 years ago, were...
How can I put it?
...more methodical.
Anyone there?
Maybe there is.
No-one.
No!
Hold on.
That's not what they did.
I was little, but I remember.
They didn't hold back. They searched properly.
So, don't hold back, don't be shy.
Come with me.
Do the job properly.
They checked if there was a false bottom.
That's what they did.
Even if no-one could hide here...
they searched, anyway.
Sir, stop it! Enough!
Sir!
I can't stand your scolding!
You and the family stifle me!
You blame us for your failures!
- I can't... - It's your fault!
You gonna hit me?
- Just go! - I'll go far from you.
- I can't take it. - Yeah, go!
Go to Perpignan, Sète, even China or America!
- Shut up! - I never want to see you again!
Notice: All of the below are banned
He said to her: "Are we alive or dead?"
She replied:
"We are together."
You can come out now.
Have my bodyguards gone?
Yes, they have. Don't worry.
I'd rather wait.
He can't stay there. Talk to him.
There.
OK, that's it.
When I slipped into this hiding place,
it was in December 1942.
I thought I'd only be here for a few weeks or months.
I'd heard your radio appeal to resist the Nazis.
Your voice so near yet so far...
It was the voice of my country.
When I walked around Paris, humiliation...
fear, and hunger...
I thought it was all temporary.
I stayed here for so long because I knew you weren't far away.
In fact...
you were here with me in this hiding place.
Look to your right, General.
France never left me.
It was safe
here with me.
World War I military record
General, that France is now
in the streets.
It's no longer hiding.
She is as we always wanted:
free, excessive,
unjust, complaining.
True to herself.
Are you alright?
A cramp.
Want me to help you?
I'll get out.
Are you sure?
The boy doesn't yet know it. But one day,
light years away,
he will tell this story in a book.
And from this book, I will make a film.
The film we are in.
And that day...
is today.
I'm waiting.
You can bring the car in.
I'll go see General Massu. He always gives good advice.
How can I thank you all for your help
during these dark hours for France?
We didn't vote for you.
Can I do anything for you?
Thank you, but as you see, I have all I need.
Concerning the Academy of Medicine...
I don't need anything, I insist, General.
You're interested in politics, young man.
I'm interested in words, not those who say them.
So, what do you think of Mr. Pompidou's speech?
The response is in the streets.
My goodness! So, what should he have said?
"Rabid Rebels." Isn't that very visual?
No, it's an ill-defined, elusive entity.
Nothing tangible or concrete.
What is visual is the barricades, broken windows, burned-out cars.
By who? The Rabid Rebels? Really?
No.
You should talk about organized groups,
led by an identified organism, politicians...
potentially defined as selfish.
An organized enemy needs an organized response: De Gaulle.
We never understand him.
It's very clear to me.
If I speak up now, I'd be disavowing Pompidou,
which I won't do. Well, not yet.
Say you won't change the PM while playing
on the intransitivity of "change".
I won't change, in the sense of
"I'm inflexible".
I won't change the PM.
Better.
Mark a pause.
You are De Gaulle, you set the pace.
I won't change...
the Prime Minister.
Thank you, young man.
Did I screw up there?
Is he with you?
Yes, we've got him.
That person in the car looks like...
It's a patient who thinks he's De Gaulle.
Wow!
He's very sick!
I'm hungry.
- Where's Great-grandmama? - Sleeping.
- What? - Well, she's still sleeping.
Do you want me to stay with you?
- Will you be OK? - Yes.
Ready for a rematch?
15 francs, ma'am.
Thank you.
Grandmama, what's a Yid?
Don't call me Grandmama in public, remember?
Aunt...
Is my grandpa a Yid?
He's Jewish because Hinterland was Jewish.
- Keep the change. - Thanks, ma'am.
And this is for the little choirboy.
Thank you, ma'am. Thank you, Aunt.
He was born a Jew, but became a Catholic.
Didn't he want to be Jewish?
That's not it. He didn't abandon his religion.
He adopted another one, see?
He wasn't ashamed...
I want to be a Jew, too!
Women pass it down. Your mom and grandma aren't, so it won't be easy.
Why all these questions?
The dad of the boy upstairs won't let him play with people like us.
Promise me something.
Never let jerks tell you what you are.
Promise me that.
I promise never to let jerks tell you what you are.
If you want to be a Jew, you can be.
Let me hug you.
I'd rather be a Yid than a Jew.
I'm sorry.
I can't remember...
I've forgotten it.
Crazy!
Are you trying to burn the place down?
Call the fire department, Mrs. Lahrer!
With all the barricades, you can wait!
We'll report you.
I bet you will.
It's a tradition with you. Runs in the family!
Meaning? We don't talk to your kind!
The events of May 1968 brought about a revolution in the family.
For the first time, this big body dislocated.
Its members achieved independence.
Well, for a few days.
- Wedge it in. - OK.
So... there are hard-boiled eggs under the apples.
There's a pie.
There's gingerbread, chocolate,
condensed milk for the kid. You have all you need.
I need you.
I have things to do.
Who'd keep the house company now that your mother's gone?
We've never been apart more than 36 hours.
True.
It'll happen some day.
Let's see it as a dress rehearsal.
- Belt. - No!
So, no belt!
I'll open the gate. You be good.
Everyone said that after May '68, nothing would be the same in France.
But it went back to how it was before.
Almost.
When Little-Uncle realized
that the mystery man who wanted to buy all the paintings
was sent by the Pompidous,
he decided to move on to a new art period.
Our installation period, Grandmama called it.
My dear compatriots,
in the current circumstances,
I won't step down.
You gave me a mandate.
I will carry it out.
I won't change...
the PM.
- What a jerk! - De Gaulle, resign!
We'll never get there.
That's an interesting demonstration of his dictatorial rhetoric.
The pause between "I won't change" and "the PM"
is him regaining control. He appropriates the unspoken.
He says: "I'm the voice of France and its silence."
Like in 1940. The radio station is significant.
"I'm the presence of France and its absence."
So, nothing escapes De Gaulle's words.
Linguistics became a major discipline, turning its proponents into idols,
before interest in communication replaced love of language.
And that's disgusting.
What's "disgusting"?
Faster, faster.
It smells of fresh meat!
That's disgusting.
That's not democracy. In your family, say, can't you choose
what you eat for lunch and when you rise on a Sunday?
Every Sunday at 7 AM, I have to get up to go to mass.
- You dad wants you to go? - No, God does.
I'll take over. Make yourself a coffee.
Thank you.
So, that's democracy.
Having neither lord nor master, freewill.
- Coming? - Tomorrow.
I have an article to finish.
Tell your father: "Dad, I'm free.
Neither lord nor master."
ODESSA 6km
Let's think. If the battery is the heart,
the cylinders are the intestines,
and the exhaust is the rectum
as she sputtered before stopping,
we might think...
In any case, it stinks.
We might think...
we're in the shit.
OK...
Should I carry it?
No, she told me to go with her to Odessa.
Don't run. You'll fall over.
It must have changed a lot since her day.
It's been nearly 100 years.
What Great-grandmama told you may not be...
- She had a lot of imagination. - Yes.
It's a good thing to have imagination.
It lets you give some to life which may be lacking in it.
- Has it happened before? - Yeah.
It's happened before.
I wonder if going there is not without risk.
The risk of knowing whether the Hinterland was right or not.
Do you see?
So, we came for nothing?
Do you want me to give you advice?
Like normal grandparents do with their grandchildren.
The main thing in life is to have a goal
and do all you can to reach it.
Yet with the same determination,
you must strive not to reach it. Do you know why?
So you don't have the victors' arrogance
and scorn for the losers.
Arrogance is...?
Not having any imagination.
So, what about her?
We could put her up there.
On that hillock.
Isn't that nice?
If she looks east, she can see Odessa.
And if she looks west, she can just about make out Paris.
The family has a name, of course.
When asked where they're from,
they say "Odessa".
It's their truth.
And it's also mine.
No need to add anything.
Don't run!
3, 4...
THE SAFE HOUSE
Loosely based on Christophe Boltanski's novel