This is the sixth news report from the BBC.
But first, please listen to some personal messages.
"Good luck comes to those who wait."
"Happy is he who, like Ulysses, has made a long journey"
From Marie-Thérèse to Marie-Louise,
"A friend will come tonight."
Hello?
Alphonse? This is Gravier. Is this a bad time?
Not at all, but I'm in the subway.
If it cuts off… Hello?
This dickhead has no signal.
You wanted to talk to me?
You let Bisson leave with 40,000 euros in watches?
He said his clients couldn't travel.
-What a moron. -He's nice.
Sure.
He was right to warn you.
He has a company to run and pays you to sell watches.
So sell the fucking watches.
I won't say it again, you can't lose this job.
We just asked for a loan to buy this place, remember?
It's not the greatest place.
Not only is it crappy, it's not even ours.
Here, finish up.
I'm telling you, if you lose your job
and we don't get the loan,
I'll kick your ass.
There.
-May I? -Please.
Are you going back to Bulgaria tomorrow?
Yes.
It's my favorite. The 1948 Moser.
A trade watch.
Fun fact, Henry Kissinger wore it,
Richard Nixon's advisor.
I'm saying that, but I don't know who he is.
Henry Kissinger.
There are a lot of you.
Please sit down, Colonel.
You bet I will.
I didn't come here to stand up.
Another shitty day discussing endlessly
with these idlers.
-This nation is falling apart. -It needs you.
-As long as you're here… -I'm hungry.
It's all here.
There.
-May I sleep with you tonight? -Do I look like I'm on vacation?
The general staff are meeting at the Meudon Hotel tonight.
I can relax for 20 minutes.
Pretty heavy.
Yes, yellow gold, 18 carats, pretty hefty.
This is a Cartier Tank.
Where did he go?
The tripe is delicious.
Don't drink too fast, it's a Cahors. It can knock you down.
Well, we'll see about that…
Check down below if I'm asleep.
Yes, Colonel.
Where is it?
-What? -The watch?
What watch?
Don't do this. It isn't very nice.
Very good, Françoise.
Give it back…
Are you going to hit me?
I'll scream.
I wouldn't if I were you.
This little vino is pretty strong.
A little Malbec.
Quiet, keep going. Come on.
Help!
-Stop it! -You're nearly there, Colonel.
Stop it, bitch!
Stop!
-Call an ambulance! -Fuck.
Okay?
-Is he going to die? -I don't know yet.
-First and last name? -No idea.
-You don't know him? -I've known him for 25 years.
-But you don't know his name? -He's got many.
-He's an officer. -No, he's an old whore.
-Mr. Bisson? -Yes.
-Please, sit down. -Thank you.
Okay…
What?
No, I just thought that…
I would be older?
No, it's not that. I didn't know "Doctor" would be…
A woman?
When you hear "Doctor," you…
Are you disappointed?
No, not disappointed.
-Do you have a problem with women? -No.
It's just that I don't talk to them, but…
At least not often.
Okay.
Before we talk about the attack, tell me about yourself.
How are you?
I'm fine…
-How long have you been married? -Twenty-three years.
-Nearly 24. -Okay.
Is your marriage okay?
Yes, we had sex
not so long ago.
No, not this one. The other one.
I can hear you…
I hear you too much.
Your breathing is too loud.
I can still hear it.
Alphonse, you are my treasure.
Look at me.
I love you, darling.
-Do you have children? -No.
We met when we were young.
My wife is very energetic.
Since we have the same hobbies…
What hobbies?
Come on! Harder, come on!
-Come on! -Wait.
Come on, hit me.
Come on! Am I making you mad?
She motivates me, with my work and sports,
to achieve my goals.
I've always needed structure.
I lacked… I lacked authority figures when I was a child.
When…
When my mother left, my father raised me.
He was always very…
Very?
I have to go, my husband will be there soon.
Close the fucking door! How many times do I have to tell you?
Very?
Distracted.
How is your relationship with him?
I don't see him anymore.
-Does that hurt? -No.
-And now? -No.
Try to raise your leg.
-I can't. -Try again, Mr. Bisson.
I am really trying.
It's normal.
The paralysis is a result of the attack, it will take time.
When can I be sexually active again?
Excuse me?
-You heard me. -You just had a heart attack.
A transient ischemic attack can be the sign of a stroke.
We're talking about your life.
And sildenafil citrate is most likely responsible for your health problems.
What is that?
You said you were taking Viagra.
How often do you take it?
-Often. -Which means?
Every day.
Every day?
Why would you do that?
Why do you think? It's not to play bridge.
Do you have intercourse on a daily basis?
Yes. Do you ever have sex?
I do, but not every day.
That's your problem.
Well, your problem is that you're gonna die.
How old are you?
I'm not judging you.
-I'm talking to you as your doctor. -Okay.
-I'll see you tomorrow. -Sure.
-Hi, Alphonse? -Welcome back.
-How's it going? -Good.
Okay, come in.
Is this a bad time?
Not at all. Sit down.
I'm happy to be here. I was losing my mind at home.
-The scar is healing well. -It was nothing.
How did it go with the therapist?
She was a woman.
I'm sure you already know what I'm about to tell you.
No.
Hit me, come on!
Damn it, you're not reacting, come on!
Come on!
Are you okay?
-Hi. -Hello.
-You're home early. -I finished work early.
What is this? It's Wednesday, my turn to cook.
-Since I was home early… -Don't start messing things up.
The schedule's complicated enough.
I'm sorry.
Don't apologize.
Of course it's really nice.
And now I look ungrateful, always complaining.
You're being annoying, honey. It's really not cool.
I'm sorry.
I got new compresses.
You can wash with them. They're waterproof.
If your wife was here,
what would she say about you?
About me?
He's nice.
He's nice and decent.
I love him.
When I first met him,
my relationship with a dickhead had just ended.
His name was Mikaël.
He would go out every night.
Drinking, taking coke…
Since I was crazy about him, I started messing around with that, too.
Until I found out he'd been cheating on me the whole time.
It made me sick. Literally.
And I thought to myself,
"Never again.
Never again a guy like that, ever."
Never love again?
What would she say?
I don't know.
That I'm a nice guy.
Yes?
Where?
Okay.
What?
It's Jacques.
What does he want?
You really like to suffer.
This guy has poisoned your brain.
You're going back to him?
-I need answers. -He won't give them to you.
NEUROLOGY
He'll mess you up and I'll have to take care of you.
There you are.
What happened?
Nothing.
How about you?
It's not nothing.
I hope so.
-Sir, you told me… -Don't call me "sir."
Are you going to die?
Yes.
Maybe not now, but… Wait, I'm not done.
There's a 60% risk that I'll have another heart attack that will be fatal,
given my lifestyle.
No kidding.
I can't walk.
Great, right?
-I can't get hard again. -Good.
I'd like to go home.
Even if it means croaking,
I'd rather be at home, you know?
-Okay… -I need you.
I need you.
-I can't leave without a chaperone. -Many women would be glad to help.
-They can't see me like this. -Figure it out.
Alphonse! I am your father!
-Not what I'd call a father. -I know.
I'm ready to talk about it,
to tell you things that'd change your judgmental look.
Let's talk about it, about everything, but not here!
Look at me.
I said look at me!
I'm an old man.
Alone, dying,
and bedridden.
Life found a way to get back at me.
Don't you think?
Please, sit down.
You see, nothing has changed.
Are you going to smoke?
No, it's just to smell it.
There.
Shit.
It's weird.
What?
Being in this living room.
You'd scream at me if I stepped foot in it.
-I was protecting you. -You should've sent me to boarding school
and kept living like a pig. Why didn't you?
I hated this life, I still do.
How did you pay rent? You spent your day in bed.
-No wonder she left. -Don't talk about her.
That's what I'm here for. Tell me about her.
-I have nothing to say. -Come on!
-Tell me about my mother. -Wait.
-Need help? -I don't. Here.
Now, listen to me.
I lived this life because she left.
This life that, by the way, paid for this place,
your vacations, your fucking electric train
and that private school where you flunked.
It allowed me to raise you in this neighborhood
and send you to a better school than I went to
so you wouldn't end up like me.
These women you've disapproved of for decades,
they weren't mistresses, like you think.
What were they?
Clients.
They were paying me to do this.
Well, I have to see you again soon.
And talk to my bank manager.
See you soon, Mister Love.
I was selling myself. There.
What were you selling?
This.
You never talked about it.
You were six and a half.
What would you have said at school? "Father's job: whore?"
Is that semen?
Yes.
Hello? Yes?
Evening. It's Adèle.
-How are you doing? -Good.
Can we meet?
No, sorry. I'm on vacation at the moment.
Really? For how long?
A few weeks.
Okay, then. Call me when you're home.
All my love.
Are you still doing it?
Not as much as before,
but I still have a few clients.
We grew old together. You know some of them.
But how do you…
I take vitamins.
When they don't work, I make up for it with words,
-with my fingers… -Yes.
-Sorry. -There.
Sorry.
Okay…
Okay, later.
-Wait. -What?
It would be nice if you came over sometimes.
I would love that.
You never talk much. You can stay quiet, if you want.
I just want to look at you.
Hey!
Can you go to the store for me?
Who's there?
-Who is it? -It's me.
-Who? -Me, Granny. Open.
-No. I told you not to come again. -If I tell you to open, you open the door!
-I just want to talk. -We'll talk with the attorney.
Leave or I call the police.
You would call the cops?
Of course I would.
Come on, Granny. Open the door.
-It's your little Louis. -Go away!
Jacques, honey,
I know now that being a wife and a mother
is not the life for me.
Don't look for me, it would be in vain.
I have met someone,
we're going to go away.
Take good care of Alphonse.
I know you will be a good father
and you will find the right words
to explain my absence.
Maybe one day he'll understand that I couldn't take care of both of you.
I cannot sacrifice my life as a woman
to iron shirts
and change diapers.
I hope you have a great life.
Sending you all my love.
Laura.
Okay, I'll call you back. Thank you.
You're right, sir, that's why we're here.
Of course. What time would suit you?
6:00 p.m.
And flowers, no problem.
Mr. Bisson?
-Yes? -Can you follow me?
Are you more into selling or valuation?
Actually, both would suit me.
-How long have you worked with watches? -Fifteen years.
You're not that young anymore.
No, I get less and less young.
-Are you an expert? -I know watches.
And you lose them, too.
-Yes. -You were fired for gross misconduct.
I know Chrono Time Square, Bruno is a friend.
-Can I ask what happened? -Can I ask what happened?
Did Mr. Narcy give you the documents?
Yes, I've received everything.
-Sit down. -Thank you.
I think the file is up to date.
I have to say
that we're so hoping for this loan
that Mr. Narcy's departure is pretty unsettling.
I'm really sorry that you find me unsettling.
-Hello. -Hello.
-I'm late. -Barely.
I had to take my bike, there's a problem…
I'm sure.
This is Mrs. Gémier, who's replacing Mr. Narcy.
Really?
-I told you he was retiring. -Right.
Don't worry. I picked up the file
and we'll close this deal, your project, Mr. Bisson.
If you care about it.
Of course, more than ever.
Do you have the documents?
-Yes? -Tax assessment, employment contract…
-I have everything. -Pay stubs?
So…
-Shit! -It's fine.
-Everything's fine. -Here.
Thank you.
Okay.
So, it looks like we have a good interest rate
with a monthly payment of 1,650 euros.
Is that correct?
Over 26 years.
Okay?
Perfect. I'll see you soon.
Okay, thank you.
If you need me, you know where I am.
-I have your number. -Good.
-Mr. Bisson. -Goodbye, thanks.
Goodbye.
You're afraid of her? Does she hit you?
No.
You said you were afraid of her.
Look… Here.
Did you buy it at Briselaine's?
What's Briselaine's?
The Lebanese corner store, it's good.
You don't like this one?
It's dry.
-You haven't tasted it. -I can see that it's dry.
-Listen… -Leave it, I have to eat anyway.
Did she give you those marks? You can talk to me…
Stop. It's not true.
Yes, it is.
I'm sure she punches you.
I saw her twice, and I still shiver…
-She was very rude to me. -She was right.
-What? -What?
You came to the wedding with a drunk woman who hit on her dad.
-Oh, yes! -Yes.
Jacqueline.
She was quite the boozer, but she was loaded.
And fun, too.
I managed to stay six months with her.
We would get drunk, she would fall asleep, no need to…
Okay…
How long has she been hitting you?
She never laid a finger on me, okay?
-Then why are you afraid? -She doesn't scare me physically.
I'm afraid of disappointing her.
That's why I haven't said anything. I really have to get a job.
You know, you're not 25 anymore.
And you don't have a ton of diplomas.
I know the drill.
When your mother left, I messed up, I got fired.
I know what it's like to look for a job when you're 45.
Even back then, it was tough…
I'm really glad to see you.
What can I say?
Your appearance needs a bit of work.
Is it trendy to have no style at all?
In my line of work, it's critical.
What is wrong with me?
Nothing.
Neither young nor old, there's nothing about you.
What's on your mind?
-Nothing. -See?
Okay, come on.
-No, come on. -"Come on" what?
It's a Chazelles, don't be a prude.
-Here. -I finish it and I'll go.
-Let me finish. -No, it's fine.
I can help you with the interviews.
Really? How?
Appearance is important.
I've spent years watching assholes take it easy.
Cuckolded husbands, degenerate sons.
It's all about gesture, your jacket, how you talk.
I always say, "Fake indifference when you have nothing to say."
It's more rewarding than babbling some bullshit.
Yeah. What did it do for you?
Just last year,
I made 8,000 euros a month.
Sometimes 12,000.
With half a boner.
It's not about being hard.
It's about the story.
I work for women who have their own world, and my job
is to get into character and then get inside the woman.
Yes, Agnès?
No, sorry. I'm on vacation.
I can't help you.
Please hold.
What's on your mind?
Nothing.
We have to face our demons.
To forgive is to grow up.
You've closed a lot of doors.
The law doesn't allow you to disinherit your grandson.
-May I smoke? -No, sorry.
Good.
Your grandson is, in fact, your only heir,
-since he's… -I don't want to give him one cent.
And when I say that,
I mean not even the cap of Gérard's Montblanc pen.
-I understand… -He's a scumbag.
Last time, I spent days looking for
a lighter, jewelry, an ashtray. He's a junkie.
Should I leave money to a kid who wants me dead?
During the inventory following your husband's death,
multiple items were listed, legally…
Then I'll blow it all.
-What do you mean? -Yes.
If I can't donate it and decide where my money will go,
I'd rather spend it all.
You need enough cash until the end, though.
-I don't care. -No, ma'am…
Yes!
I'd rather die homeless than make this piece of shit rich.
It's a good sign they wanted me here for the meeting.
What do they want?
I don't know, I made a few good sales,
they want to show me their strategy.
Okay, you'll tell me later.
I have to go.
I'll call you later, don't wait for me.
I'm happy for you. Love you.
Thanks. Love you.
NATACHA GÉMIER ACCOUNTANT
Just once.
I'll only do it once.
-I need money. -Okay.
Bend down, I need to fix your tie.
-A generation of morons. -I never wear ties.
Well, you're an idiot.
The woman you're meeting likes men.
-There. -Ties make no difference.
Shut up.
In this situation, they really do.
Okay.
Stand up straight.
Properly, you look like you're sorry.
Don't look scared, be proud.
-I look ridiculous. -Not compared to 20 minutes ago.
Put these on, they're part of your character.
-I can't see through these. -Good, she's not a model.
Go to the bathroom.
-What do you want? -A comb and some gel.
The green jar on the shelf.
And shave, for fuck's sake!
-She won't mind that it's not you? -Maybe it'll be to her benefit.
Listen to me.
What she likes is poetry.
Like "Clair de lune."
Do you know Victor Hugo?
-Kinda. -You'll have to learn some.
For tonight?
I'll give you a quick lesson.
Her name is Adèle, like his daughter.
His daughter?
Adèle Hugo, Victor Hugo's daughter.
The girl who killed herself, the nutcase.
What Adèle really loves
are the poems that he wrote
after his other daughter died, Léopoldine.
She drowned. Are you following?
Okay.
Go get me that small leather book there.
With the orange cover.
-This one? -No, behind you.
-There? -Yes, that one.
-Don't move. -Why?
Bend down.
Come here, I can't see.
-Then say "Come here." -Okay.
Bend down.
More.
You're losing your hair.
-I know. -You didn't get that from me.
You certainly didn't inherit it from me. I'll powder it.
-What? Are you insane? -No.
I'm very meticulous and professional. She has to get her money's worth.
-How much is it? -Eight hundred.
-Eight hundred? -Yes.
Eight hundred…
And if I can't do it?
What do you mean?
If I can't…
That wouldn't be surprising. You're old, but not that old. Wait.
-Here. -What is it?
Something to help you, take two.
Have a good night.
Let me see your smile.
No, better than that. You look tense.
Don't smile like a dummy.
I want a smart smile, a bit mischievous, between the teeth.
Smile with your lips and with your eyes.
Narrow the eyes.
Not too bad. A bit creepy, but better.
Don't ring the bell, it scares her.
If you're on time, and you should be, knock twice.
She'll do the middle-class act with her high-pitch voice.
Yes? I'm coming!
You're fine, you're at home, already inside her.
You can hear her get closer.
You can almost smell the perfume she's been wearing for 200 years,
because let me tell you,
she's not a high school girl.
-Hello. -Good evening.
Sorry, good evening.
-Please, come in. -Thank you.
Shoes off?
-Excuse me? -For your rugs.
They'll survive.
Please, come in. You look like a delivery guy.
Are you okay?
You look nervous.
No, I'm not.
I though you'd be more…
Sensible?
Yes.
Hopefully, you'll realize quickly that I am not.
Shit! I lit the fire, but it's gone out.
-Can I help? -I'll take care of it.
Damn.
Is it really a Henri Robert?
It's the watch that Sand gave to Chopin.
The hand stopped when he died.
It costs a pretty penny.
"A pretty penny"?
-Yes, expensive. -Expensive, yes.
A present from my husband.
Every time he cheated on me, he'd give me a present.
These two cherubs, I called them René and Martine.
After René Monory's wife, the secretary. They boned for two years.
Martine, not René.
This piano.
I call it Ruth.
Not a very musical name.
It's the translator he banged on his flight to Prague.
I made a fortune with being a cuckold.
That'll get it going.
What are you doing?
Whatever I want.
Help yourself, Lucien.
It's caviar from Prunier, it won't kill you.
She'll call you Lucien. He was her literature teacher.
That's why she's so obsessed with Musset, Lamartine and Victor Hugo.
I eat it on its own, and a lot of it. Some like it on a potato.
It's nice with spuds.
Use the proper vocabulary.
Don't be pedantic, but make an effort, choose your words carefully.
Do you like poetry?
-Yes, very much. -What kind?
Victor Hugo…
Ah, the romantics.
Just Victor Hugo.
So, the romantics.
Yes.
Today, people criticize his lyrical style.
And yet, what a wit.
Each hemistich packs a punch.
If you let yourself go, his verses are like a dance.
Like a waltz.
It's true.
You're right, it's…
It's always there in Hugo's work. All his poems…
It's like…
Yes, it's like a dance.
"Tomorrow at dawn, in the light countryside,
-I will leave, I will…" -No.
Please, not that one. That's his popular hit.
You made two mistakes in one and a half lines.
"In the white countryside," during winter.
-"Light" doesn't make any sense. -Sure, it's "white."
-Do you like Victor Hugo? -Yes.
A lot, completely.
Too much.
-Too much? -Yes.
Excuse me.
There's...
There's a beautiful poem by Victor Hugo,
that sums up, in my opinion, all the work of…
Victor Hugo.
It started like this…
"O poet, your songs, or what you call them,
would look better if you deflated them.
Woods… Woods have sighs,
but they have whistles.
The azure shines when sometimes gaiety tears it.
-Olympus…" -Stop, it doesn't make any sense.
And you have no emotion. You're reciting.
We'll finish the bottle and you can go.
Hearing this is like making love to a coat hanger.
Hello?
Sophie! Are you all right, honey?
No, I'm alone.
I'm watching a bad movie with a bad actor.
French cinema isn't what it used to be. To think people pay to see it in theaters.
Adèle is one of my oldest client. You met her when you were a kid.
Back then, she had red hair and she was already amazingly elegant.
Yes, honey? I'll be home late.
Stop!
Brigitte is taking me to the theater.
The Moods of Marianne, I love that play.
You and me both.
"Woe to those who, in the midst of their youth,
surrender to hopeless love."
I have to go.
You kiss like an angel.
-I'm sorry. -Don't be.
Do it again.
If she likes you and invites you into her bed,
dive into her blue eyes, they're still as young as ever.
Lucien! My little Lucien.
-Tell me you love me. -I love you so much.
There's nothing more beautiful than a woman who gives in to pleasure.
In my life, I failed everything.
I was terrible at school, I didn't have a big career.
I've betrayed most of my friends.
I couldn't keep your mother. I was a bad father, all of that.
If I believed in God, I'd be scared of Hell.
The only thing I have
and that I will carry to my grave
is Magali's smile.
She would miraculously brighten up my cold nights,
I'm listening.
Marie-Claude's tenderness...
She danced over my problems,
turned my bed into paradise.
She could deliver anything...
Promises, hope, suicide.
Oh, Marie-Claude...
Adèle's charm,
her every smile a poem.
What's this book?
What little culture I have I owe to that woman.
It's me. I got loads of stuff at the market.
Esther's honesty,
the seductive way she'd give me an earful.
Agnès' outbursts... She was a sister, a teacher
and a mistress.
I never liked...
Every gesture she had was like family.
Don't call me!
Sarah's quirkiness, she couldn't play the piano
but dreamed of being Barbara, and I would listen to her for hours
as she bashed the keys thinking she was Debussy.
Jacques.
Your mother's beauty.
Alphonse is asleep.
Your mother's beauty,
I still dream about it.
Her beauty contained the smell of all the others,
even the ones that came after.
That's the magic of all these women,
who made my life less miserable than I am.
What's your name? Your real name?
-Alphonse. -Alphonse…
Translated by Angélique Dutt
Creative Supervisor Alain Martinossi.