Provided by explosiveskull https://twitter.com/kaboomskull
PROMISE AT DAWN
Romain?
Romain, what's wrong?
I'm dying.
Take me to Mexico City.
Mexico City... I don't want to die here!
Romain, you can't be serious.
It's at least a five-hour drive.
I don't care. Call a taxi.
I'll die in Mexico City.
I won't croak here.
That's my final word.
Just find a solution, Lesley.
You're my wife after all.
Promise at Dawn
What are you writing?
A testament.
A testament of what?
A book...
A book about my mother.
Please turn the music down.
At age 44, I loved France with all my heart.
For nothing else remained of my mother...
Vilna Poland, 1924
No one should ever be allowed to love anyone this much.
Not even your mother.
Did I frighten you?
I knew you'd come this way.
How was school?
So-so.
What?
They don't understand you.
Here.
One day, you'll own a car.
And you'll be a French ambassador.
Give me a kiss.
Hurry on home. Aniela is waiting for you.
My mother and I were living in Vilna, Poland.
She earned a living making ladies' hats in our home.
It was biting cold and the snow was slowly rising
up along the grim city walls.
Romain...
A kiss?
- How was school? - Fine.
Come into the kitchen, I made hot chocolate.
Some nice hot chocolate.
Is this coat coming off?
Tell me, is it coming off?
Blow on it, it's hot.
Okay.
Police!
Madam Kacew isn't here.
- I don't know where she is. - When's she back?
She comes and goes. She sells door-to-door.
What's going on?
- What are you doing in my home? - Nina Kacew?
In person!
Your papers.
I'll get them.
- You're from Russia? - Moscow.
- And you've been here for... - Three months.
What's this?
Ladies' hats. I sell them.
Search!
Search everything.
The neighbors said you have smuggled goods.
What are you doing? Not that!
Careful!
- What are you looking for? - Out of my way!
You come into my home
without permission or warning?
There's a complaint for stolen goods.
Our papers are in order!
Who lodged a complaint?
- The machines are yours? - We brought them with us.
We have the invoices.
Filthy bastards!
You think you can force me to leave?
Go on!
Search!
Everything!
Carry on! We're too rich!
We have too much!
Where's the louse who called the police behind my back?
Where're you hiding?
Come out!
Look me in the face!
What do you want?
You don't know who we are!
Or whom you have the honor of speaking to!
Look at him!
This is my son.
He will be a French ambassador!
A writer!
Knight of the Legion of Honor!
A general!
He'll have his suits made...
in London!
No event ever affected me more than that laughter.
It was one of the most painful moments in my life.
Yet I owe everything I am to it.
My mother taught me that a man cannot be ridiculed.
They don't know who they're dealing with.
We won't let them treat us like that.
They don't realize.
My mother had a taste for revenge.
She was strongly determined to destroy her enemies.
The plan she concocted was remarkably daring in a small town like Vilna.
She could have easily sent us back on the road with our bundles.
A Day with Paul Poiret
Come quick! Hurry up!
Nina Kacew?
An actress in her youth,
my mother knew a talentless French actor-singer,
Alex Gubernatis, who was living down-and-out in Warsaw.
Delighted, Nina.
My money!
Get lost!
No, Nina!
It's beautiful.
Yes.
- I forgot my lines. - What do you mean?
We haven't even started yet!
"Silence, Ladies, silence."
Silence, Ladies, silence.
Use your hands.
Silence, Ladies, silence.
More ceremonious! Use your hands.
Silence! Move over.
Silence, Ladies, silence!
Why, "Silence, Ladies"?
Because the salon will be packed.
Packed with the wealthiest women of Vilna
who will rush here to meet Paul Poiret in person!
And then one day she announced that Mr. Paul Poiret,
come specially from Paris,
would inaugurate "Maison Nouvelle, Grand Salon"
on Tuesday, February 6th at 4:00 pm.
Welcome.
The room is full. They all came!
I won't go out there without a drink.
Would Paul Poiret stink of vodka?
I need a pick-me-up. Just one swig.
I'll put on Eau de Cologne. They won't smell it.
Here.
Thanks.
Ladies...
I wish to thank you for coming today
to welcome the greatest Parisian couturier of all,
Mr. Paul Poiret!
Silence, Ladies, silence!
I'm very happy
to be here with you today,
to inaugurate the Grand Salon
of a lady who, thanks to her talent, taste and know-how,
has earned the title of exclusive representative
of Paul Poiret in Vilna.
A warm round of applause for my ambassadress and friend,
Nina Kacew.
As she curtsied,
I know now what she saw.
She saw the real Paul Poiret
asking for silence to praise her artistic inspiration.
Nina has such fabulous taste.
She said that Polish women alone know how to wear fur
with grace and sophistication.
Mediterranean women have no idea!
Tell us about Paris!
You know Man Ray, Mistinguette, Maurice Chevalier...
Clothilde from the Moulin Rouge adores my hats.
She says they would dress a naked woman.
Today's fashion hides a woman's curves. But look!
- This mustn't be hidden! - My dear sir!
Silence, Ladies, silence!
Silence.
Bump in the rump, I met a fine gal
Bare-rumped she slept, bumpety bump
Bare-rumped, bumpety bump
Bump in the rump, on my way back from Nantes...
And now,
to thank Paul for his visit,
we shall listen to a song that he will surely recognize.
Romain!
"Maison Nouvelle, Grand Salon de Haute Couture de Paris"
was launched with pizzazz.
That very same day, Gubernatis returned to Warsaw.
Within only months, we dressed the richest women in town.
Money poured into our coffers.
My mother openly entertained the hope of me being a virtuoso violinist.
I was determined to satisfy her every desire.
I loved her too much to realize
that her dreams were naive and excessive.
Your turn. Show us what you can do.
You will not give up!
I won't let you.
You told him I was gifted!
That he'd eat his hat when he heard me!
But you are gifted!
You're gifted. I want you to go back tomorrow.
I won't go!
It was a great disappointment,
but the violin episode was never brought up again.
No, no, no. You can't be a painter.
Why not?
I know I could, I love painting.
You won't be a painter.
- He's talented, Nina. - So what?
Did talent help Van Gogh and Gauguin during their lives?
You will not paint.
Mother, I know I could do it!
Van Gogh committed suicide at 35.
Even if you're a genius, they'll crush you.
I want you to be famous while you're alive.
Thus, music and painting were struck off one by one,
and we resigned ourselves to literature.
My mother had no objections. Goethe had been covered in honors,
Tolstoy a count, and Victor Hugo, French president.
I don't know why, but she insisted this was true.
Show me what you wrote.
"A Scottish tweed, and bang, an explosion of colors.
Farewell
little dragon
who flies..."
What's the end?
"...into the sky. You thought you were strong,
Ô little chameleon."
You'll be Tolstoy, my son.
You'll be Victor Hugo.
Nothing was left out of my education
to make me a man of the world.
Click your heels.
Back straight, now lean forward.
May I have the honor?
Do not let your lips touch her hand.
I am...
Sverdlovski!
I will be your teacher.
You must watch and listen carefully!
Positions!
Fire!
Look how handsome you are.
I won't wear that!
Why not?
People will laugh.
It'll be the most gorgeous fur in town.
You know who laughs? Jealous people.
It's stupid, look at this stuff.
I'll have you know this "stuff" is silver squirrel tails!
Please, Mother.
Darling, I know better than anyone what looks good on you.
I want you to wear it for me.
When a film starring Ivan Mosjoukine played,
we went to the movies.
Ivan Mosjoukine, the great Russian actor...
He portrayed romantic heroes
and noble adventurers.
He saved empires.
Triumphed with sword and pistol.
Rescued beautiful captives.
Stoically endured torture in the Tsar's service.
Women died of love at his feet.
I watched...
shuddering at the idea of everything my mother expected of me.
When I was an actress in Russia, I played in theatres.
I played with Mosjoukine.
He was already famous at the time.
You know what he said to me when you were born?
He said...
"Other than your son, nothing really matters to you."
So I stopped.
I gave up acting for you.
Put this on.
Look at me.
Harder.
Harder still. Like a man.
With those eyes, you'll make women suffer.
Just like him.
I was 9 when I fell in love for the first time.
It was a violent, absolute passion
which completely poisoned my life.
She was 8 years old and her name was Valentine.
Determined to seduce her on the spot,
I did as my mother taught me
and I gave her my hardest look.
What are you doing?
You're weird.
Are you crazy?
Off in the head?
Want to come to the cemetery?
Mama's boy!
Let's go.
- Where are the others? - I told them to leave us alone.
Why?
I told them to leave us alone, that's all.
- What'll we do? - I don't know.
Jan eats lots of stuff for me.
He ate dirt for me.
I can too.
Here, I'll give you some.
Here's a flower. Eat it.
And that was how my martyrdom began.
I saw you!
What're you doing?
- None of your business. - Oh yeah?
He ate dirt for you.
- Leave him alone! - I didn't touch him.
Who's he to you?
- Who do you think you are? - No one.
Stop it!
Are you the ambassador?
Shut up!
Who'd you think you are? I'm going back to the party.
Look what you did.
Give that back!
Give it back!
Do you know what time it is?
Look at the state you're in!
Look at you!
Did you fight?
There are three things
worthwhile fighting for...
Women,
honor,
and France.
- Was it one of the three? - Yes.
You did well.
On that day, I understood that the love I was surrounded with at home
had nothing to do with what was waiting for me outside.
Valentine, are you there?
You know why you're here.
You each get a turn.
I'll kiss the one who eats most.
With the shell?
Of course with the shell.
Jan, you start.
Shit...
You'll be sorry!
I'll make you pay for this!
You'll see!
You'll be sorry!
I knew it wasn't enough.
I had to go further, much further.
I'll eat this for you.
Back then, children knew nothing of the facts of life.
I was certain this was how you made love.
Thank you, Doctor.
Thank you.
Good evening, ladies.
- Is it true? - Yes.
Tell me it's not true!
Tell me!
You ate your shoe for a woman?
I love her.
What do you mean?
The Bronsky girl! You love that little tramp?
Did she give you presents?
When you're an ambassador,
you'll have the world's most beautiful women!
They will fall at your feet!
They'll want to die for you and you'll make them suffer!
So you forget the Bronsky girl!
What do you want?
Could I see the Ambassador?
Wait here.
- What do you want? - Valentine said to get you.
Coming?
You sure she's here?
Yes.
- Is it him? - Yes!
I know what happened with my sister.
- Who's your sister? - Valentine.
- Why don't I know you? - Shut up, I'm asking the questions.
She's my sister and his girl.
So leave her alone or I'll rip off your nose and ears.
- You get it? - Yes.
- Say "I get it"! - I get it.
I know who you are, you rat!
You're the son of that whore
who says she's taking her genius son to France to sell her hats.
So why're you here?
You can't move during the school year.
It's not because they don't want old Jewish whores in France?
Run, Yid!
Run, Yid! Run!
Listen to me carefully, Romain.
The next time anyone insults your mother,
I want you to come home on a stretcher.
Do you understand?
Even if they break every bone in your body!
Otherwise it's no use leaving.
It's no use moving to France!
Remember my words!
From now on,
you will stand up for me.
I don't care if they use their fists.
That's not what hurts.
You'll even die for me!
Go on.
Finish your dinner.
Madam Podowska is here.
She wants to pay on credit.
On credit?
With everything she owes us?
Nina!
There you are!
I was wondering when I'd see you.
You know I'm never very far.
Could you have my alterations ready by Friday?
Madam Podowska, Aniela was wondering
if we should send your husband the bill?
My dear, I count on your discretion.
I'll settle the bill next week.
In that case, why don't we deliver the altered dresses
and hats next week.
What are you insinuating?
Your outstanding bill is high
and we've received no payments for two months now.
Are you suggesting I won't pay you?
Tell me...
Let me form an opinion about you.
No.
Of course not.
I trust you.
Aniela!
Wrap madam's hats and give the girls her dresses for alterations.
Add it to her bill.
We'd been Vilna's top fashion house for two years,
but our prestige outshined our finances.
The girls won't work for free anymore.
The bailiff was here yesterday...
I don't care about him!
Come here, my boy.
Problems accumulated...
and Aniela decided to return home.
Our separation was heartrending.
We knew we were embracing for the last time.
Stay here, I have an important matter to settle.
Don't worry, I'll be back.
Hello.
I'm here to see Madam Podowska.
Please tell her that her friend Nina has stopped by.
What do you want?
I'm sorry to disturb you,
but I haven't seen you at the Salon for some time and...
you see...
and I wanted to know when you could settle your bill.
To be perfectly honest, times are hard
and I can't make my payments.
You tire me, always complaining about money.
I should've been wary from the start.
My friends warned me.
But I said that even if you were Jewish,
you were a fine woman.
I see I was wrong.
Now, goodbye.
You won't get away with this!
Tadek!
Thief! Shame on you!
You're no better than the vermin they put in irons!
That's enough, leave now.
I'll tell everyone in Vilna
that Podowska is a thief!
- Get lost or I'll call the cops. - I hope you rot in hell!
You fat sow!
I'll call the police!
You're here?
We're leaving this town.
You'll be educated in France,
I promise you.
After desperate efforts to revive business,
the battle was lost and we were declared bankrupt.
Madam, may I have the honor?
No, darling.
Please, Mother.
- Darling, I can't. - Please!
That day,
I swore I would set the world right and lay it at her feet.
I would give meaning to her sacrifice
and be worthy of her.
I would devote my life to this task.
Lesley, you're reading it. I don't believe it!
You're the biggest pain I've ever known.
Perversity, English irony!
I'm not being ironic, it's the truth.
I'm begging you, let me finish.
- Sir! Can you help us? - Of course.
Careful.
Come on, help me.
Careful, it's very fragile.
Don't worry, I'll take care.
My first memory of France is the porter at the Nice train station.
He carried off the trunk with the last of our Russian silver,
whose sale was to ensure our future.
We're going to Avenue Shakespeare.
I'm not taking that. Go see Rinaldi and his clunker.
Are you Rinaldi?
Yes.
We're going to Avenue Shakespeare.
I can't take that.
Have you taken a look at your car?
My trunk won't hurt it any!
Get in the back.
Some days, you'd be better off staying in bed.
We're almost there.
Come have a look.
Come on.
The Mediterranean sea...
took my breath away.
Ever since that day, each time I see it,
I feel as though it carries my woes away.
This samovar belonged to my mother,
Countess at the court of Tsar Nicolas II of Russia.
She managed to save this piece of inestimable value when...
You understand...
I cannot speak of her...
without choking with emotion.
You show your objects to advantage and bring them to life,
but you have one major problem.
What's that?
May I be frank?
Your items are no good.
The set of Tsar Nicolas II?
I've seen 5 in two weeks.
And you're asking a fortune,
which no one in the area will pay.
A fortune!
For an authentic object!
You're talking about copies, this is an original!
It witnessed crimes of passion!
I'll offer you a partnership.
You continue playing the ruined Russian countess...
Which I am.
Which you are...
And you sell my objects from my shop,
to the hotels on the coast.
- What objects? - Rings, watches, powder cases.
More attractive items.
What's in it for my son and I?
10% of all sales.
And to show you my proposal is serious,
I'll give you an advance
on future sales.
We were saved. By a Frenchman.
The years passed.
Very rapidly,
my mother had her own showcases in hotels.
She dealt in property sales...
Ready?
and invested in Rinaldi's new taxi.
It was a period of peace and tranquility.
I didn't mean to be nosy,
but your mother keeps saying you're a literary genius.
And so I got curious.
I'm Mariette.
- Pleased to meet you. - Likewise.
Your mother said to take good care of you.
I'll do everything around the house.
Laundry, ironing, cleaning...
I'll wax the shoes and make the bed.
Everything!
You needn't lift a finger.
Excuse me.
I didn't hire you to listen to music!
Yes, ma'am. Of course.
Don't be mad, I'm the one who turned it on.
Turn it back on if you like.
I forgot to tell you!
I saw your mother at the market yesterday.
She talks about you like you were Prince Charming.
My Romain this and my Romain that...
I know it's because you're her son...
but after a while,
it does something to me.
Mariette gradually became an obsession.
It started when I woke up and lasted all day.
On days when my mother worked and I didn't have school,
I stayed in bed until she came.
Hi, Romain.
What woman wants...
God wants.
The miracle finally took place.
Romain, what's going on?
Listen to me!
You dared touch my little boy.
- You told me... - I told you what?
Leave before I throw you out the window!
Kurva! Get out!
Never set foot here again!
Romain!
Come here! Where are you going?
Come here, Romain!
Open the door!
If the bus hadn't broken down, I'd never have known!
You'd never have told me!
She dared do that under a mother's very eyes!
That slut!
Can't you leave me alone and mind your own business!
I'm sick of you constantly worrying! Deciding everything!
I'm suffocating! One day, I'll run away!
Come on, Romain, pull!
Her biggest success was a building sale.
The owner gave her the keys to turn it into a hotel.
She knew nothing of the hotel business, but instantly caught on.
She woke at 6:00 am and went to the Buffa Market,
where she was queen.
I'll take it!
- Hello, Dominique. - Nina!
Look at this.
Look at this lovely piece!
I'll take ten nice slices.
Anything else?
That'll be all.
Mother!
Call a doctor!
Move aside.
Ladies...
Mother, are you alright?
Can you hear me?
Nina, you okay?
What happened?
- Is she your mother? - Yes.
- Has she been diabetic for long? - What do you mean?
Here.
"I'm a diabetic, if I faint..."
Why didn't you tell me?
What business is it of yours?
You can live to 100 with this nasty business.
How can I trust you?
You've been sick for 2 years and I had no idea?
You hiding anything else? May as well tell me now.
You want me to scream every time I give myself a shot?
You give yourself shots?
You keep it to yourself. It's no one's business.
Rinaldi! That wine costs a fortune!
I'm a taxi driver! You hear?
Not a delivery boy!
Go help Rinaldi and his little arms.
That's okay, I've got it.
I've got it.
Hello, ma'am. Madam Kacew, I presume?
Pleased to meet you, I'm Mr. Zaremba.
I reserved a room.
Yes, Mr. Zaremba.
- Are you Polish? - Like yourself, I believe.
Yes, well...
This is my son Romain. He writes books.
Hello, sir. Welcome.
So young and you already write? I'm impressed.
I'm an artist myself. A painter.
If you'd kindly sign the register.
I'll need one week upfront.
Of course, no problem at all.
Mr. Zaremba did not fit my mother's image
of the drunken, degenerate painter.
There was only one explanation: he had no talent.
Breakfast is every morning from 7:00 to 9:00 am.
If you need anything,
you can go down to reception. Someone is usually there.
Here you go, young man.
Thank you.
Thank you very much.
He reserved for several days and stayed one year.
Mr. Romain!
Please, don't move!
That's it.
Move your right leg back.
On the chair. Put it on the chair.
Your arm. Look at me!
That's it, take flight!
Look at me.
I have a cramp.
Take heart, Romain!
I have a confession to make.
I'd like to see your mother.
I know how dear to her heart you are, but I'm not demanding,
I would be perfectly content to take second place.
I hope this doesn't shock you.
Not at all.
If your mother would agree
to share some of the tenderness she showers upon you,
you would gain more independence.
It's not good to be an only son!
Thank you. You're free.
Here's a little gift to thank you.
One of my humble paintings.
Thank you.
Try to come to the Royal Hotel tonight.
I'll be there with Mother.
Good evening.
I ordered a bottle of champagne.
It would be an honor for me to share it with you.
Yes, of course. With pleasure.
You like champagne?
Yes.
You could hear an angel pass.
Do you believe in angels too?
Romain, won't you invite your mother to dance?
Madam.
Without wishing to offend you...
Zaremba as a stepfather...
At last I would breathe.
I could embark on a life of adventure without guilt.
Mother!
Oh my!
Come here, I need to talk to you.
What's wrong?
Listen, he's a good man.
- Who? - Zaremba.
You're here to talk about Zaremba?
He owns an estate in Florida!
Get out. Now!
I can't help you yet. He can.
- I don't need help! - Oh yeah?
Are you sure? You're ill!
I have to finish school, go to college and do my service!
I'm strong. Stronger than you think!
Zaremba can help you now!
Stop talking about him!
He respects you. He'll always respect you.
He'll treat you like a lady.
I know I'm old.
But listen to me.
Only once in my life...
Only once, did I love a man passionately.
And he never respected me.
He was never a gentleman.
He was a man! Not a little boy.
The painter can go to hell!
After the wedding plan fell through,
the idea of her dying
before I accomplished her dreams became unbearable.
I had to become a French literary genius
and write an immortal masterpiece.
I took to writing seriously.
I finished my 4th novel under the pseudonym François Mermont.
Like the previous ones, it was turned down by publishers.
I passed my baccalaureate
and my mother decided I would study in Paris to develop relations.
Hurry up, I don't have much time.
One week before I left, my mother had a religious crisis.
Where are we going?
- To the Russian Orthodox church. - I thought we were half-Jewish?
No matter, I know the priest.
Go on.
Promise you'll be careful.
Promise me you won't catch anything.
I promise.
Swear you'll never take money from a woman.
I swear.
- No, please, I'll be fine. - Take it!
Take it.
It's the last time.
Be strong, my son.
Be brave.
You'll return showered with praise.
I can see it already!
Shun stupidity and prejudices.
They'll pursue you, but you must shun them.
And never wear socks with holes.
If you take your shoes off before a woman,
you must always be elegant!
- May I help you? - Thank you.
He's my son.
He's leaving to study law in the capital.
He'll be a diplomat,
a writer, and an officer in the air force.
How impressive!
Goodbye, Mother.
A hand?
- This one too? - Yes, thank you.
Mother?
For the trip.
Wait, wait.
Wait! Stop!
Excuse me! She's not taking the train!
She's my mother. We have to stop!
It's too late!
Please, stop the train!
No, I have to get off!
Sir, it'll be your fault if I fall.
Please help us! Sir!
My mother has to get off!
Help her off the train!
Would you like a pickle?
No, thank you.
Your mother certainly loves you.
My name is Brigitte.
You have a beautiful accent.
Thank you, I'm Swedish.
Brigitte was the dreamed Swedish woman ever since Sweden was given to men.
I'm Romain.
- Delighted to meet you. - Likewise.
I arrived in Paris in September 1934
and enrolled in law school on Rue St. Jacques.
Kacew!
Your mother's on the phone.
Hello.
Yes.
No, Mother, I don't need any money.
Don't worry, I won't do odd jobs.
She was pretty, cheerful and intelligent,
and we had a brief passionate relationship.
I'll come with you!
I'll come back tonight.
I love you!
Yes.
Brigitte!
Hurt and sickened, I wrote my heart out and neglected my studies.
THE STORM
A short story...
Hi.
The Gringoire.
I was down to my last penny when I opened the weekly Gringoire
and found my short story, The Storm,
with my name in bold letters.
Hey, buddy!
Here.
What's going on! Who closed the shutters?
Miss Jacobi! Lucien!
What will clients think!
Congratulations!
He did it, Nina!
You're famous!
I knew it!
Here.
This is for you too.
You're crazy!
Thank you.
Thank you, my son.
I'd never earned so much money before.
I thought I was free from financial worries forever.
Good evening, sir.
We'd like a good table and a bottle of your finest champagne.
But of course, sir.
I returned to Paris, grabbed my pen,
and wrote 3 new short stories.
Kacew, your mother!
Yes, Mother.
Sweetheart,
I bought the paper again, but nothing.
Nothing at all!
That's normal.
What do you mean?
People are asking questions.
Everyone's waiting to read you.
It's normal.
Stop saying it's normal!
Pantaloni organized a party at the market in your honor!
You think he finds it normal?
Tell Pantaloni that I refuse to be published.
They want me to write such mediocrity that I sent them packing.
What?
That means you've lost your job?
I earn enough, don't worry.
How?
How what? I write.
- But I sign with other names. - Other names?
Yes, other names. Pseudonyms.
Which ones?
Which ones what?
Which names
do you sign your work with?
I signed two short stories this month...
under the name of... Corthis.
André Corthis.
- Corthis? - Yes.
This is scandalous.
They make you write stories against your will?
Let me give the editor a piece of my mind!
No, Mother! Don't bother.
Okay, but I'm going to tell everyone at the market...
exactly what's going on.
Okay, good.
You take care of the market, I'll deal with the rest.
I love you.
For six months, none of my stories were published.
They were deemed too "literary."
Each one was sent back.
Nice, August 1938
Sweetheart!
You're so handsome.
It must be done.
You have to leave, darling.
We'll get your tickets tomorrow.
I already bought the bullets.
I have no idea what you're talking about.
Leave for where?
Berlin.
Berlin?
That Adolf Hitler must be killed.
Trust me, there's no other solution.
I've given it much thought.
You're an excellent shot. You'll score on the first try.
But I can't just go and kill Hitler.
If you're caught...
I guarantee you that France
will demand you be freed.
I had paid little attention to European events
and couldn't believe war would actually break out.
It was scorching hot and I wanted to be by the Mediterranean.
I'd have preferred to kill Hitler in October.
In short, I lacked enthusiasm.
But there was no question of shirking my duty.
One ticket for Berlin, please. The day after tomorrow.
You're in luck, the Germans are giving vacationers 30% off.
Round trip?
One way.
What's wrong?
I beg you, don't do it! Renounce your heroic project!
They can't ask this of an only son!
I struggled so hard
to make a man of you!
And now... Oh my God!
And that was how I did not kill Hitler.
I was drafted on November 4th, 1938.
My mother was ecstatic.
Clean the hood and propellers before lunch.
Yes, sir.
Kacew.
You did a good job up there.
"My beloved Romain,
when you're a lieutenant, with stripes on your uniform,
remember it's only the first step towards fame.
Love, your Mother."
Hey, Kacew.
Look at this! Look!
It's your dad.
Sweet dreams, Kacew.
THE JEWISH PERIL
After several months, the much awaited day came.
The day I would receive my second lieutenant's stripes.
Officer candidate Jacques Leroux!
First place, rank of 2nd lieutenant.
Posted in Marrakech.
Léon Duval, second place.
Rank of 2nd lieutenant.
Officer Guérin, 27th place!
Rank of quartermaster sergeant.
Officer candidate, Jean Galy! 63rd place.
Rank of second lieutenant, posted at Bangui!
Officers and NCO's, fall out!
Out of nearly 300 students...
I was the only one not commissioned.
Officer candidate Kacew!
You'll stay on for further training.
At ease!
Contrary to common practice and regulations,
I was named neither 2nd lieutenant, nor sergeant nor even corporal.
I thought I would die.
My mother...
would never survive such a disappointment.
Know why they flunked you?
Because you're Jewish. And your naturalization is too recent.
You must have French parents or be naturalized 10 years to serve.
So imagine being named officer!
I'm French.
They set up a commission.
They debated whether to keep you or dump you in the infantry.
The Air Ministry wanted to keep you.
But the guys here voted no.
Consider yourself lucky, Dreyfus had it worse.
There he is!
Mr. Romain is here!
He's here?
He's here! My son.
What's this?
Where are your stripes?
Come on, I'll explain.
I need to talk to my mother.
Where are his stripes?
Tell myself as I might that my mother was used to blows,
I wanted to do it as gently as possible.
No, I'm not 2nd lieutenant.
Why not?
The only one out of 300!
Some sort of temporary disciplinary measure.
I have to wait 6 months.
I don't understand.
I seduced my superior's wife.
That's what happened. It was impossible, I couldn't resist.
And the husband demanded disciplinary action.
No!
Was she beautiful?
Excuse me?
Was she beautiful?
You can't imagine.
Don Juan!
Casanova!
I always knew it.
The husband could've killed you!
300!
The only one out of 300.
You are exceptional!
My dear friends...
I cannot tell you why,
out of respect for certain important people.
Honestly, I cannot.
But I raise my glass to Romain, who is not 2nd lieutenant.
This has very special meaning for the two of us!
To Romain! The only one out of 300!
Some of you were waiting for this moment!
I know that others feared it.
But today it is France, your nation, that you must think of!
Because thanks to you...
The war took me by surprise.
The general mobilization was declared.
The idea that France could lose the war had never occurred to me.
My mother would never survive such a defeat.
Romain!
Romain, there's a package for you!
Mommy came to kiss her rat?
My son!
I think no son ever hated his mother like I did then.
Kacew!
No introductions?
Get in the car.
You're ashamed of your old mother?
Are you?
So cute!
Right!
You must attack at once. You have to march straight on Berlin.
You must tell your officers.
Sir.
Is he your commanding officer?
Romain, answer me.
It's Captain De Gache, my commander.
Captain!
I told him you had a sensitive throat.
All these planes have open cockpits.
Here.
Seriously?
You're right, catching a cold up there is the worst possible danger.
You'll be fine.
Not one airman out of 10 will survive this war.
You'll be fine, you hear me?
Stop acting like you always knew everything.
Promise me.
I'll be fine.
The war won't last.
It won't last.
And France will win.
France will win because it's France.
Marshal Pétain's speech - June 17th, 1940
...sadly, we must stop fighting. I spoke with the enemy tonight
to ask if he was ready to seek with me, amongst soldiers,
after battle and with honor, a means of ending...
Kacew!
Sir.
The Germans are in Paris.
In two days, anyone who leaves for England or Africa
will be considered deserters.
- What'll you do? - I'm joining De Gaulle in England.
I have a plane tonight. There's one place left. Are you in?
I'm in, Sir.
There's no more "Sir" between us.
We take off at sundown.
Coast is clear.
Get down!
This way.
A Den is waiting for us...
Kacew!
- What's up? - Control tower wants you.
They said it's urgent.
Go see.
I'll come back for you after the trial flight. But hurry up.
Make it fast.
Romain, is that you?
In the midst of the chaos, with all communication down,
hearing my mother's voice seemed supernatural.
I was cut off.
You can call back from here.
- Here. - Thanks.
Miss Jacobi?
It's Romain.
I'd like to speak to my mother.
How's that, she's not there? I just spoke to her.
What hospital?
I don't give a damn that she doesn't want anyone to disturb me!
I saw the plane go up in flames.
De Gache had crashed during his trial flight.
My mother had saved me, once again.
Romain!
Here.
Thank you, they're beautiful.
I have something to confess.
I didn't tell you the whole truth.
The truth about what?
I wasn't...
I never really was...
Could you get me an ashtray?
I never really was a great actress.
A tragedian.
It's not the exact truth.
I performed, it's true...
but I never went very far.
France is what's most beautiful.
That's why I wanted you to be a Frenchman.
And you succeeded, right?
That Marshal is a weak old thing!
I told them at the market.
I told them that my son would show all those cowards.
You mustn't worry.
I'll fight.
Will she have to stay here long?
I'll come see you in a while.
You could say something.
It depends. I don't know yet.
Are you going to keep her or not?
It depends.
Is that all you can say?
Can I see a specialist?
That's me. So please change your tone.
I'll use the tone I like.
I need you to protect my mother while I'm busy protecting this country.
Protect us? What's the armistice?
Rubbish.
The poor madwoman harps on about your exploits while you...
Never call her a madwoman again.
You understand? Never again.
- You have a mother? - Not anymore.
Well you have one now.
The woman you insult is your mother.
- Say it. - I'm sorry...
Say it! "She's my mother"!
She's my mother.
Very good.
Now you're going to treat her with utmost respect.
You'll take care of her,
protect her and cherish her as your own. Have you understood?
My leave was up.
Well then...
Goodbye.
There are no words to describe our parting.
Wait.
She'd lived 26 years without a man.
I wanted her to see a man rather than a son.
Don't forget to work.
You must continue writing books.
I'll do everything you want, but I need some time.
Take care of yourself. See the doctor regularly.
I'll figure out a way to send you insulin, okay?
Don't worry about me,
I'm an old warhorse.
I've made it this far, I'll hold up a while longer.
I have to go.
Come on.
I hear there are Frenchmen...
who are continuing the combat from England.
You must join them.
Yes, I know.
What that smile cost me,
only she could know,
for she smiled too.
She had passed some of her strength onto me
which stayed forever.
What are you doing?
Taking a piss.
- Don't move! - Go on, shoot me, dirty Jew!
Shoot!
They'll shoot you like a dog.
Hurry up!
The tank's not full!
- What? - We're low on gas.
- How low? - Half a tank.
We'll never make it.
Spin the propellers!
- What are you doing? - I'm not going.
I can't swim!
At last I was a rebel, a tough guy. A real one!
The war was on again and I would not turn back.
I felt my mother's eyes watching me in wonder.
It was the start of my life of adventure.
Days later, I was taken to Olympia Hall
to join the first Free French fighters.
I received my mother's first letters.
"My beloved Romain...
Bless you, I swear your departure did not sorrow me.
Be strong and determined."
"I am strong, but we spend our days waiting,
exasperated by how long it takes to send us to combat.
Let me tell you what happened the other night.
I was with a young English poetess at the Wellington,
a bar for allied airmen."
What's that suit?
My mother wanted me to dress in London. Like it?
You know what the vice squad said when asked about Joyce?
"He's an Irishman
who wrote a pornographic work called Ulysses."
What I'm trying to say...
When I write, you must read my writing...
It's like a wave...
"My poetess talked endlessly,
gazing at me with her lovely blue eyes
that literally sparkled with idiocy.
I couldn't take anymore."
Yesterday, I wrote:
"The fire of life inside me swirls. I must embrace it."
Don't you just love it?
"I found myself in the absurd situation of having to fight
over a girl I dreamed of being rid of.
I thought I'd be free of my poetess after the fight.
Wrong!
The girl was living a true adventure and she wanted more."
He wants a duel.
A duel?
There's a blackout. No one gives a damn. Can't he see?
"You understand, I could not let them insult France,
nor spurn the Polish code of honor."
Very well, prepare the arms. A pistol duel, at ten paces.
You're going to kill a man! I can feel it!
If I win, the others admit defeat.
I don't want to kill you all.
Tell him I'll kill him
and shove the Polish flag up his ass.
In any case, he's going to kill you.
It's between you two, period!
Positions.
Take aim!
Fire!
You're foolish cretins.
France and Poland are allies.
Only an imbecile would want us to kill each other!
He speaks Polish.
"My poetess insisted on calling an ambulance,
and I was arrested by the MPs."
The Polish man you wounded said it was an accident.
We're all going crazy.
We watch them destroy London. We want to fight.
Is that all you have to say for yourself?
We need pilots in Africa.
If you don't want to be court martialed,
you leave tomorrow.
Pushkin died in a pistol duel.
He didn't have your luck.
What luck?
Shooting lessons with Sverdlovski!
Those Poles...
they didn't know you'd studied with Sverdlovski.
No...
They didn't know.
You haven't written a word in months. You know what that means?
It means nothing at all.
Nothing!
There's a war going on, I'm doing what you asked me!
That's no excuse. You must write!
How will you ever become a great artist if you do nothing?
You're right.
I'll become a great writer.
I'll win the war and become a diplomat.
French ambassador...
Diplomat and French ambassador. That's the way it'll be!
That's the way it'll be, I promise you!
I promise you!
Do you get the insulin I send you?
I arrived in Africa and was posted in Bangui.
The war was far and our mission was to defend a territory
threatened only by mosquitoes.
While waiting to leave for the front,
I started writing A European Education.
Hey, why aren't you dancing?
Doing your homework?
Put that down. Come dance with us.
Want to have some fun?
What's wrong?
I can't anymore.
Yes, you can.
No, I can't.
I can't. Get up.
Get up, I said.
Who the hell are you? You walk in without knocking?
It's Bungalow 17?
They put you in here without telling me?
I don't believe it.
Those are my things.
Get up.
Give me my money.
- What? - It's not my fault you're a wimp.
- I'm not a wimp. - I want my money! Hurry up.
See what your bullshit cost me?
Here.
Good night, pal.
Let me have a look.
Water?
Some jam? Are you hungry?
It's good.
The face of this woman,
was the tired, old face of my mother.
You need to show me where you live.
She was lost and abandoned...
I found her. Her leg is hurt.
Her leg is hurt.
Where did you find her?
About an hour from here. Her leg is hurt.
We've looked for her for 2 days.
Thank you.
Thank you very much.
I got the fucker!
"My dear son, you must write a fine book,
for this is what will bring you consolation."
Give me time, Mother!
"Please do not think of me,
or fear for me.
You must be brave.
You always were an artist.
I love you, your Mother."
Come on, let's go.
At last we were sent to Libya for the 2nd campaign
against Rommel.
Don't drink that shit!
Kacew!
What's wrong?
How are you doing? Should we notify your mother?
Don't say anything to my mother!
Captain, I can't die here!
We'll do our best, but you should inform a family member.
Watch his temperature.
I had caught typhoid fever.
The doctors thought I had no chance pulling through.
Shit!
You can't let my mother die here with me,
in the contagious ward of this damned hospital! You can't!
Your mother isn't here.
Yes she is, she's here!
Do you understand?
She's here.
You should write her.
I told them not to bother you.
I came because you made me look like a fool!
I promised everyone that you would save France!
That you would return to Nice with a novel!
And I find you here like some good-for-nothing!
I started writing a book.
It's called A European Education. It's about resistance fighters.
I'm writing.
Is it about love too?
Yes.
You must finish this book.
Trust me, the whole world will read it.
I'm sick.
So what?
Did Maupassant stop writing because he had syphilis?
Did Napoleon stop conquering because he had malaria?
No!
You believe what those doctors tell you!
- I say nothing's wrong with you. - I have no strength.
Perhaps.
But you will fight till victory.
I forbid you to die!
They won't let us fight.
You'll fight.
And when you return to Nice,
we'll go to the Promenade des Anglais.
And everyone will shout:
"Greet this lady!
Her son returned from the war
covered in Air Force honors!"
Men will raise their hats to me
while they sing the Marseillaise!
What are you doing?
Come back, Romain!
Get some rest!
Second lieutenant Kacew, General!
I see you've struck me off the list of the living!
The NCOs don't salute me! No one looks at me!
Even the privates ignore me!
I am a 2nd lieutenant, General, the son of Nina Kacew and of France!
I protest vigorously before all of Europe!
You're taking advantage of your position.
And why? Because your name is De Gaulle!
General, let me be clear. I request that I be reintegrated
at once in the army of the living!
Romain, wake up.
Doctor!
Please, my husband...
I speak French. What's wrong?
Brain tumor.
Have you had any exams?
I'm dying, Lesley. I leave you the house.
Don't be absurd.
It's his head and ears.
- What's your name? - Romain Gary.
Romain Gary? The French writer?
Mr. Gary, you must describe your symptoms to me.
How did this start?
I was working...
My head and ears started hurting more and more.
- What did you put in your ear? - There was so much noise.
What did you put in it?
- Bread. White bread. - Bread?
You put bread in your ears?
Hang on, don't move.
- Be careful. - What on earth is this?
Guacamole.
The bread was too dry.
You have an acute ear infection due to this substance.
I'll clean it out and prescribe a treatment.
My brain...
Your brain is just fine, Mr. Gary. You can continue writing.
It's not fine, I want to talk to a specialist!
We'll keep you for observation.
I'll find you a room.
Guacamole!
My squadron was transferred
to the Hartford Bridge airbase in England in August 1943.
At last I would fight!
Bauden. I'm the gunner.
- You the new navigator? - Yes, Romain Kacew.
You here? I thought you were dead.
You know him?
I'd end up with this crackpot.
"Dear Mother,
the conditions at Hartford Bridge are harsh.
The nights are so cold, I write in my coat and boots.
A European Education is half-finished, but some days it's hard to work.
Last week we lost 7 aircraft over Charleroi.
I'm thinking of you.
I love you, Romain."
"My son, you will be fine,
and you will write your book.
You will succeed, you will win,
because that is how I raised you."
How can you write at night?
We get up in four hours and you write?
As if none of this shit existed.
"Every night I work till daybreak.
A European Education is almost done. I'm making progress.
"My glorious son,
we read the tales of your exploits with admiration.
I went to see your instructors and I told them!
Above all, don't forget to work on your book.
I know you'll finish it fast.
The world will recognize your talent.
I'm proud of you.
Long live the Republic! Long live France!"
THE END
He's over there!
Kacew, look this way!
For General De Gaulle!
What's going on?
The Brits want to publish your book!
Give me a big smile!
I rushed off to wire the news to my mother.
My book would be published in England as Forest Of Anger.
At last I had succeeded something for her.
I was born.
There's a letter for you.
"Remember, you don't need me anymore.
You're a man now, not a child.
My son, get married quickly.
For you will always need a woman by your side.
Therein perhaps, lies the harm I did to you.
Don't give me much thought. I'm in good health.
Dr. Rosanoff is very happy with me.
He sends you his regards."
I read it again, searching for an allusion to my book.
Nothing.
She seemed totally unaware.
"Mother,
I know you'd prefer acts of war to literature from me.
I thought my first published book
would be your victory too.
I fly daily and my plane often returns riddled with bullets.
You wanted me to be heroic?
I'm trying."
- They're blasting us. Going down! - Copy.
Langer, you hear me?
I was hit in the eyes! I can't see!
Pull up!
- Bauden? - I'm good. We gotta jump.
Shit!
I can't.
I can't open the cockpit.
Jump! I can't fly anymore. You might make it.
No one's jumping.
We're near the target.
We drop the bombs and head home!
It's impossible! I'm blind!
We drop the bombs and head home!
Target near.
Bomb hatch!
Three, two, one...
Go!
We gotta climb, Langer.
Higher, higher!
Listen to my voice, I'll guide you. Keep your course.
Boston-C to control tower.
Boston-H approaching. A blind pilot and an injured navigator.
Go down easy.
We're off course. To the left!
Decrease throttle!
Touchdown.
I believe it was the first time in RAF history
that a blinded pilot had landed his craft on their strip.
For my deed, General De Gaulle awarded me the Cross of the Liberation.
At last I could go home with my head high.
My book had given my mother some artistic glory,
and now I'd earned a high military distinction.
FOREST OF ANGER
The Normandy landings took place, the war would soon be over.
Paris martyrized!
But Paris liberated!
"My dear son,
we've been apart for years.
I hope when you come home, you will forgive me.
I had no other choice.
Everything I did, I did because you needed me.
I'm well.
I'm waiting for you."
What silly thing had she done?
Had she remarried?
I left as soon as possible for Nice.
I took jeep after jeep to Toulon, then to Nice.
My entire being was focused on the city, the house,
and the open arms
waiting for me.
Who is it?
Good evening.
I'm Romain. Nina's son.
There's no Nina here.
Hang on! Nina Kacew.
- Don't insist. - Who's he?
- What's he want? - I'm the son of Nina Kacew.
She doesn't live here.
But this was her hotel.
You've got the wrong address.
Miss! Please, miss!
My mother, Nina Kacew, is she here at the hospital?
- When was she admitted? - I don't know. She's diabetic.
Rosanoff is her doctor.
Dr. Rosanoff is with a patient. I'll call him.
Wait!
Where's Dr. Rosanoff?
Over there.
Where's my mother?
Carry on without me.
Come with me.
What's going on? Where is she?
Your mother is dead.
No.
Why do you say that?
She died 3 years ago.
No.
She wrote me, I received a letter a few days ago.
She writes me.
Her last days,
she wrote 250 letters.
She wrote in her bed, night and day.
She had me send them to her friend in Switzerland,
to send to you after she died.
Regularly.
Once or twice a week.
She was sure you wouldn't survive if you knew she'd died.
I lived.
THE END
I did everything she asked of me, Lesley.
Everything.
And nothing...
writer, Goncourt Prize, consul, French ambassador, nothing!
Kings, actresses, money, even this...
Does she realize how much hassle I go through
to have my suits made in London?
No.
No, she just left.
She left.
She died without knowing any of it.
No.
She'll never know I kept my promise.
This book...
is the only thing you could have done for her.
In your mother’s love,
life makes a promise at dawn it will never keep.
After that, you will go hungry to the end of your days.
Each time a woman takes you in her arms and presses you to her heart,
it will be mere leftovers.
Lovely arms embrace your neck,
gentle lips speak of love,
but you know better.
You have long since found the spring
and you have drunk it dry.
Romain Kacew became Romain Gary.
He wrote thirty-four novels, and made two films.
He won two Goncourt Prizes, under his name and as Emile Ajar,
a first in French literature.
After Lesley Blanch, he married Jean Seberg.
They had one child, Diego.
Romain Gary took his life at age 66.
His ashes were scattered
over the Mediterranean as he wished.
Provided by explosiveskull https://twitter.com/kaboomskull