I’m coming now.
-Clémence... -You look great, Josiane!
-Want to join us? -No. Discipline, Michel, discipline!
Have a nice day.
Paul? Come talk to mom.
Hello there.
Paul!
You should really hear it. It’s hellish.
Paul, put down the flute.
Come talk to mom. She’s waiting.
-Hello, mom. -There you are.
-How many laps? -Two kilometers.
But my time was terrible, so I won’t tell you!
-Who are you, sir? -I’m the son of Darth Vader and Cleopatra.
I thought you were your mom’s son?
Yes, that too. But also Darth Vader’s and Cleopatra’s.
Okay.
Laurent! I have extra tickets for the show we’re seeing next weekend.
-Want to join? -Next weekend I’ll be in Normandy...
You’re pixelated. And you look terrible.
-There. Is it better? -There you go!
-Show me the sky? -Sure, wait a moment.
There. Can you see it?
Come on, faster! Come on, come on, come on!
Faster, faster!
PRIVATE HUNTING AREA
We’re at Place Dauphine. It’s the end of summer.
I dip my pepper chips in ketchup.
I ordered a club sandwich. He ordered a croque-monsieur.
Shit.
“He” is my ex.
The first man I slept with and currently the last.
We’re still married, since we never got divorced.
He and I were together for 20 years.
I left him three years ago.
His name is Laurent.
For our eight-year-old son Paul, we have every other week in a friendly way.
It’s never been a problem.
A few months ago, I switched to girls.
I want to tell him. That’s why the dinner.
-We’re switching piano teachers, right? -If you think it’s important, sure.
I don’t know... He’s not getting any better.
He’s young.
Yeah, but she’s a bit...
Good-natured?
Yeah, she’s too good-natured! Good-natured, bordering on “stupid.”
Simple-minded.
You... I have started dating girls.
Dating, as in going on dates.
-Dating, seriously? -Sure, yeah...
You know.
Same again.
-I just want you to be happy. -Thank you.
You're welcome.
My new vice. Now it’s only champagne for me.
It costs me a fortune.
You really look good.
I swim a lot.
It’s not that. You’re beautiful.
Really.
I might bring Paul to meet my dad.
For Halloween.
-Cool. -Yeah.
-He hasn’t met him since Easter. -He’ll like it.
-How’s your dad? -You know my dad. He’s the same.
He still complains on the phone.
-He feels sorry for you. -Really?
He says you must be so lonely.
He has a point there.
Good night.
-No? -Definitely no.
I misinterpreted.
-Madame... -Goodbye.
-Tell him to stop! -Stop!
Dinner with me on Tuesday?
Can we just get a divorce instead?
Stop getting me worked up.
I’m going home.
Good night.
-Say hi to Paul for me? -Sure.
Have a nice evening.
What is she doing?
Are you leaving already?
Laurent?
Is everything okay?
He doesn’t want to come. I’m sorry.
-What do you mean? -He doesn’t want to.
We can’t force him. I’ll change my plans.
Wait a second...
-Can I just... -No...
Laurent, this is ridiculous. I’m going to talk to him.
Koko, Paul.
Koko.
Final call for Paul Lévêque at gate 14.
Immediate departure to the moon.
Gate 14. The rocket will depart soon.
He doesn’t want to meet you.
Let’s go drink juice.
I have tickets for the show you wanted to see.
I don’t want to meet you.
Get out of there. Stop now, come on.
I don’t want to see you!
This is how it works. This is our week.
I’ve planned lots of things. Come on.
Come on, Paul.
-Paul. -I don’t want to see you. I hate you.
Go away!
Has something happened? Have you two fought?
-He's not angry at me, is he? -Do you think this is funny?
-If he changes his mind, call me. -Okay.
It seems unlikely, but sure.
Goodbye.
Paul? I’ll call you!
I love you.
Discipline, Clémence. Discipline!
Did you mention divorce again?
It wasn’t the right time.
You know, turning your back on someone isn’t a punishment.
-You’re relentless, Elisabeth! -I know.
I still don’t understand why you let him call you his “wife.”
I actually don’t understand why you got married.
-With a guy, too. -That’s what you did back then.
He’s at least good-looking?
Yes.
No, not exactly. But we were a good match.
You’re so bourgeois.
Now he knows you’re a lesbian, and he’s pissed.
-Stop talking, please? -And what if I don’t want to?
I said “please.”
You did.
Can’t you stay a little?
It’s still early. Go back to bed.
I’m going to swim.
-Yes? -Hello.
Do you know what time it is?
Hello, Laurent. Can you give the phone to Paul, please?
He’s getting ready for school.
-Can you connect him, please? -Wait a moment.
Paul, it’s mom. Can you talk before school?
He doesn’t want to talk.
-He’s a child, give him the phone. -As you wish.
Hello, Paul?
Honey?
I know you’re mad at me, but I don’t know why.
How about we go get a soda and you can explain?
Okay? Can you do that?
I told you. He doesn’t want to talk.
But he’s eight years old! Since when does he decide?
Are you the expert on parenting?
-Excuse me? -Forget it. Gotta go to school.
For several months
I don’t connect the facts
between father and son.
Maybe Laurent is right.
Maybe Paul hates me.
It’s my fault.
Maybe I’m guilty of something.
I’m trying to understand what I did wrong.
Why aren’t you answering? I need to talk to Paul.
I don’t even know what I’m being punished for.
All non-profit organizations are the same...
It’s not complicated...
Hello?
I’ll write it down.
When?
July 4th.
At 3:00 PM.
I understand.
Thank you, Vincent.
Don’t worry. I’m fine.
Goodbye.
Well?
-Well... -On July 4th, at 3:00 PM...
...he will request full custody...
...and for me to be stripped of my parental responsibility.
On what grounds? This is absurd.
He’s accusing me of incest and pedophilia, directly or through third parties.
What the hell?
-How long has it been since you saw your son? -Six months.
Ladies and gentlemen...
I need to write.
Okay. It will work out. Chin up, my friends.
Why don’t you just give me your access code?
-Don’t you want to take it off? -No.
Just your jeans?
-What’s going on? -Nothing. I want you.
Great.
Did I forget your birthday or something?
Look, I’m going down on you now.
What did the lawyer say?
Well?
I want you.
Separate if you want, but I don’t need to separate too.
Seriously? Is that a line from a TV show?
-You’re an idiot. -No, wait.
-I’m sorry. -Well?
It’s...
Goodbye.
Here is an excerpt from one of the books found in Madame Delcourt's home.
By that, I mean a book that Paul could have easily found.
"I met Vincent in 1982, when he was still a child."
"He remained in my dreams."
"I had to decide that when he grew up"
"I would love him for the person he was no longer."
Please note, Your Honor,
that this is one of the less explicit excerpts.
But my client did not write Hervé Guibert's books.
No, that would have been even worse.
In this photo, you can see a child in the arms of a lightly dressed man,
leaning against a table on which there are several glasses of alcohol.
Gay Pride...
And in the other picture, a "joke", I assume.
Of questionable taste, considering your own child.
I will conclude with this letter from Paul, which I will now read for you.
Can we avoid further humiliating my client?
Please summarize.
Okay.
I just want to say
that the child describes the unbearable situation
of living with his mother.
That she is, and I quote, "crazy."
He doesn’t want to see her.
-Thank you, Your Honor. -Thank you, Counsel.
I see that it’s written in the record
that you discussed your love life with Paul, madame Delcourt.
And in your new book, you talk about your many affairs with women.
-Can you tell us more? -Yes.
I introduced Paul to a person with whom I had a stable relationship.
-You’re speaking in the past tense? -That relationship has ended.
You deemed it appropriate to introduce a temporary conquest, namely a woman,
to your 8-year-old child?
Your Honor, with all due respect. I believe we are deviating from the subject.
My client had a serious relationship with a person.
She chose to inform her son. That is completely normal.
And your housing situation?
-I assume you plan to move? -Yes.
Will there be a bedroom for Paul in your new apartment?
No, Your Honor. It’s a place I’ve been lent.
I currently cannot afford to rent a large apartment.
I would like to add that I have not seen Paul in nine months.
So it didn’t seem to be an absolute necessity right now.
But if everything were to return to normal,
with the contract for my book, I would...
Sorry to interrupt.
But I want to emphasize that madame Delcourt has a choice.
She has chosen not to return to her job as a lawyer.
That would provide her with the income she needs to take responsibility as a mother.
That seems to me to be a choice.
She hasn’t seen her son in nine months.
She has had nine months to prove...
PRIVATE AREA
VINCENT'S MADNESS
-I can pay 60 euros. -Okay.
Have a nice day. Goodbye.
The judge's decision came a few days later.
She appointed a psychiatrist to assess the three of us.
He has six months to submit his report.
As always with the law, it's a rough timeframe.
It can take a year, two years, three years.
In the meantime, Laurent has full custody.
I only have limited and supervised visitation rights.
"Monitored visitation rights," as the law says.
One hour every other week at a center.
A neutral "meeting center" near République.
Child specialists will be present when Paul and I meet,
just like for a junkie mom or an abusive dad.
I will appeal.
An appeal that doesn’t overturn anything.
The decision, along with the provisional enforcement, stands.
No further hearings for two years.
Two years is a thousand years.
Two years is never.
Here you go!
She's looking at you!
-May I? -Mm.
I avoid parks, public gardens, schools,
bakeries during snack time.
I take detours. I hide on Wednesdays.
Parent-child meeting center.
All our operators are busy. Please try again later.
I hadn’t noticed there were so many.
There were children everywhere.
It feels like they’re here for me. To annoy me.
To remind me of what I’m trying to forget, through discipline.
Discipline is pointless. My swimming, all the girls I see.
I run from children like they’re cluster bombs.
Like they could explode in my face,
fill my body with shrapnel.
I keep my distance, I avoid them.
But they are stronger.
I always get tricked in the end.
- République’s parent-child center. -Hello?
My name is Clémence Delcourt. I’m calling to schedule an appointment.
Last week, they told me to call back.
Can you provide your name and case number?
-I already called last week... -Name and case number, please.
Of course. My name is Clémence Delcourt.
My case number is AF89 V377E12.
Okay. How can I help you?
As I said, I’ve already spoken to your colleague...
We are a large team here.
You need to explain it to me again, otherwise, I can't help you.
Of course.
It's about organizing a meeting
between my son, Paul Lévêque, and me, supervised by a third party.
I have a judge's decision from July.
And I've called you every week since then.
And we haven’t found any time for you, is that right?
-That's right. -I understand.
I can't book an appointment because it's a first meeting, right?
Yes.
It has to go through my boss, who must meet you and the child.
-He lives with his father. -I understand.
We need to meet the child and his father, then you,
before we book a meeting for you and Paul.
I'll give you my boss's email address. Do you have a pen?
That's okay, I’ll remember it.
It's RPCMC@contact.org
Okay, thank you.
-Can I help you with anything else? -No.
Have a nice day, goodbye.
-You too, goodbye. -Goodbye.
He's born.
I saw him for the first time,
with his own face, his own body,
his own life, his own death.
He didn't really cry.
He looked a little angry, I thought so.
I understood that he was just as he was.
Not a story we tell each other.
I said his name was Paul.
He has his father's last name, but his first name is mine.
There's something that's not in other romantic relationships,
choosing the name of the one you love.
A first name so he can be loved by others.
So that one day he’ll go his own way.
They made little bracelets.
One for him, one for me.
They dressed him.
We went up to my room.
I was very hungry.
I was served a steak.
I didn’t sleep much that night.
He cried a little, I got scared.
I held him against my shoulder.
I walked down the hall.
He felt both very light and very heavy.
I remembered my puppies from childhood.
I had seen how they did it.
They took care of their puppies,
without shame or ridicule,
without losing themselves,
without giving up.
Then the hunt resumed the following season
I thought it was very simple.
That there was no doubt.
I would do it my way.
Without the women’s ridiculousness,
without the mothers' obscenity.
Thank you.
That’s all, I’m done. There you go.
- Sorry for being a bit harsh. - No, it’s fine.
It’s fun having you here, madame Clémence.
It will do your father good!
We have to keep the spirits up.
That’s important, right?
- See you tomorrow? - Yes, see you.
- Can I talk to you for a moment? - Yes.
Your father is a little down.
It would be good to get him out a little.
A five-minute walk in the park...
- He doesn’t listen to me. - Yes.
- You look thin. Are you eating properly? - Yes.
It’s important to eat.
I have to go. I’m late! See you tomorrow.
Goodbye.
Your mother was just your age when she died.
It’s no small feat to have loved a woman that way.
Yes. It’s no small thing.
- Hello. - Madame Delcourt, come in.
First of all, I won’t keep you in suspense.
Paul loves you, and you love Paul. I have no doubt about that.
It’s obvious that you’re not crazy.
And... my evaluation shows that Paul
has been manipulated by his father
and that he doesn’t mean a word of what he wrote in the letter to the court.
Of course.
Now I must add...
...that this happens often.
I get many cases like yours, every year.
But usually, it’s the opposite.
It’s the fathers who leave.
It’s rare for a mother to leave.
For some, it can be considered more serious. Even unforgivable.
So... will you tell the judge that I’m fit to meet my son?
I will submit my report.
I will highlight your psychological and emotional stability.
Your ability to be a mother.
I will emphasize that Paul misses you and is suffering from the situation.
But I must warn you.
My report may not have much of an impact.
If monsieur Lévêque is still angry and prepared to fight, it could take years.
You know that as well as I do.
But you must not give up.
You must not give up.
Your son is inventive.
You’ve made him strong.
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world,
have mercy on us.
- Hello, Mouloud. - Hello, Clémence.
- Is it moving day? - Yes.
Do you want this for your son?
Come, Ismaël.
- I found it when I was sorting. - Hello, Clémence.
- There’s Mickey Mouse. - Thank you!
Hope to see you again.
I’m moving to a different neighborhood, not another country!
Yes, that’s right. You know where to find us!
- Take care. - Yes.
- Shall we say goodbye? - Goodbye!
Hello.
Are you coming with me, children?
Come.
I’ll be back in 30 minutes.
Are you coming, Timothée?
Dad is waiting. We’ll meet mom here afterwards. Okay?
- Is this your first time at the center? - Yes.
They brought all three of my children so they could meet their dad.
Sorry, I’m just thinking out loud.
I always say what I think...
I’m as transparent as glass.
At least, that’s what my mother says.
But... you must be there for them.
Seriously.
"Child Protection"?
Easy to say.
I don’t know...
I don’t know how it "protects" my children...
when they expose them to their father.
Not even they could answer that.
They have no idea.
It’s not going to continue.
He’s going back to prison by Christmas.
At least, I think so.
Sorry, I’ll be quiet.
You’re obviously a good person.
So why are you here?
- Do you want to talk? - Sure, I’m fine with that.
I have three children. They are the best thing in my life.
I immediately saw you were new.
You still have hope in your eyes. That’s nice.
Do you want to come and smoke?
No, I’ll stay. I want to focus.
Good decision. They hate mothers who smoke.
I can’t help it. I’d go crazy otherwise.
- Then it’s better to smoke. - Yes.
It will be fine. We are girls. We never give up.
If you want, we can call it "a break in the story"?
I read in your file that you write.
Okay. Now it’s time, and we’re here to help you,
to restore contact with Paul.
So that dad and mom can get their roles back.
When do we start?
According to the analysis...
Excuse me. I don’t quite understand your language.
"Mom" or "Dad"... I’m not "the mom," I’m his mom.
And I haven’t seen Paul for a year and a half.
I don’t know if you understand what I’m saying. Paul needs to see his mom.
Now, let’s not get upset.
We’re here to help you and, above all, to help Paul.
We’re going to meet Paul and his dad.
After that, we’ll contact you about the first meeting.
- When? - It can happen very quickly.
Within a month or two.
A year and a half without him.
Two Christmases, one of his birthdays, one Mother’s Day,
two of my own birthdays.
And all the other days.
What on earth is that?
That was the nurse’s idea.
- Did she do it? - No.
But she desperately wants me to show her that I want to live.
- Did you do it? - Exactly.
It clearly shows that I like to live, right?
Deadly clear.
Well...
- Merry Christmas. - Damn, you weren’t supposed to.
Sorry. I don’t have anything for you.
Thank you.
I’m tired. Is it okay if I go to bed?
Good night.
Good night, darling.
My darling.
Don’t listen to those who say that it’s bad that we don’t meet.
Don’t listen to those who say that you must miss me
and how unhappy you must be.
Not even to those who seem uncomfortable when I, or the situation is mentioned.
I know you know that you shouldn’t care.
People talk nonsense.
You know how to look away and ignore them.
As for your father and me, his anger towards me,
and everything he’s said about me to the judge and to you...
Don’t get upset about it.
Don’t hold it against him.
It’s common, as you know, for ex-lovers to argue.
It’s as old as the streets.
Throwing poisonous comments at each other when we stop loving each other.
Honestly, I prefer this to couples having dinner on their divorce day.
I prefer the truth of war to the hypocrisy of peace.
I don’t know if you hate me. You don’t have to answer me.
You have every right to hate me. Hate is a necessary part of love.
There is no love without hate. Those who say otherwise are liars or cowards.
It’s an important part of a child’s love for their parents.
Especially a son’s love for his mother, to hate her.
Yet many sons never manage it.
I myself, as a daughter, loved my mother like a son,
I don’t know if I would have been able to do it.
I think that’s why she died.
She knew I wouldn’t have the courage to kill her.
One must kill those you love. Know that you are capable of that.
We always have that right. Love is brutal.
Don’t be sad if you think about me. There’s no point in being sad.
But if you are sad, know that I think of you every day.
I am your mother. That’s something that never stops.
Lots of love...
Mom.
My darling,
Don’t listen to those who say that it’s bad that we don’t meet...
"My grandparents are dead. The house has been sold."
"My father is destitute."
"For 15 years, he’s lived alone in the shack where the cook used to sleep, without regretting it."
- Clémence, that was amazing. - Thank you.
- It was beautiful. - Thank you.
Thank you, goodbye.
- What should I write? - Whatever you want.
Here’s the kitchen, but the fridge is in the living room.
And let me introduce... Odile, Clémence.
Clémence, Odile.
- This is your room. - Okay.
And if you pay for cleaning and booze, it’s fine.
- Okay. - Cool.
If I bring girls home... is that okay with you?
- And if I bring girls home? - No problem. It’s cool.
- Cool. - Cool. Welcome to your new home.
Thank you.
- Are you sure I can take the table? - Take it. I’m not using it.
- Perfect. - It will be fine.
- See you at the café. - See you.
- Do you have a gift for him? - Yes. A keychain with a compass.
Good. Absolutely.
He will love it.
It will be fine.
Let’s all sit around the table.
Wait.
Let me explain how the meeting will go.
You’ll see. It’s very simple.
Can I...
-Excuse me. Can I have him on my lap? -Paul, is that okay?
Marie and I will stay in the room during this hour with your mom.
If you have any questions or requests, you can talk to us.
We are here for you. Okay?
We’re here to calm you down, if you need us.
It’s 11:10. That means the meeting will finish around 12:15.
We’re not in a hurry, are we?
Pretend we’re not here.
- Is this for me? - Of course!
It’s a gift. A compass keychain.
- I haven’t even opened it! - Sorry.
- Where in Paris do you live? - I live in the Marais right now.
- In which direction from here? - It’s...
...south, southwest, I think.
That way?
- And in relation to dad’s house? - Northeast.
- There. - Yes.
- Have I grown? - Yes! A lot.
- Really? - Yes.
- You haven’t changed. - Haven’t I? Is that good?
Yes, it’s good. It’s fantastic!
Thanks.
I saw your book with your photo in a store.
I showed it to Louis and said you’re my mom...
...that you wrote it. He said it was cool.
- Who is Louis? - Louis is my new friend.
My best friends are Louis and Camille.
Camille is a bit like you. She’s really cool.
But she can’t be... as cool as me?
No, no, but almost.
I wish we were at the sea. Or at grandpa’s place. That would be fun.
Do you know if grandpa is doing well?
- He’s fine. - We should visit him soon.
Yes... - Is it allowed? I mean...
Can you ask dad, Laurent, if we can visit my grandfather?
I’ll forward your request.
- Do you want to tell me your secrets? - I’ve forgotten all of them.
Homosexual relationships cannot be seen as signs of mental instability in our time.
Nor can writing books.
We received the psychiatrist’s report in April.
Nine months after the sentence,
which gave the expert six months to review our case.
I think this sentence is in the introduction or conclusion.
The doctor chose to clarify this point.
If there were any doubts in the judge's or Laurent’s mind.
The law is the law, but it turns out that it is still problematic.
At his school, in the 6th arrondissement, the parents apparently said I was "sick."
-Has the principal received the psychiatrist's report? -I sent it, but he didn't respond.
No, I have no idea.
If you’d like, I can write it down and ask him later?
Yes, thank you.
Hey, buddy.
You look great today.
-New headphones? -They’re from dad.
Very cool.
I brought this.
-Can I give it to him? -Yes, of course.
-Do you want some? They're seeds. -I don’t think I like them anymore.
Oh...
How’s it going?
I don’t know what to say to you today.
It’s okay.
It’s totally fine.
What would we do if we were out?
-Eat ice cream? -Or go to the movies? That would be fun.
-Or both! -That would be great.
You know... it’s normal to think this is strange.
It’s really strange. For me too.
The only thing that matters is that we see each other.
We can feel each other.
So you can understand I’m here. I’ve always been here.
Hey there!
-How are you? -I just feel happy.
Do you want some?
Just a little?
-She’s cute, right? -Who?
-Ambre. With short hair. -Yes, very cute.
-Do you want to hang out with her? -No thanks.
No? Okay.
-What should I say to her? -To who?
To Ambre!
I don’t know, my little ray of sunshine.
She’s an individual
with her own dreams and interests. Just talk to her!
-I’ll write. Drink some water, okay? -I’ll do my best.
-We’ll see each other tomorrow. -See you, Junior. Good night.
It’s their choice, anyone who wants to believe
that women are connected to the moon,
to nature, to instinct,
that commands them to be ruled by matter
and to give up their being.
I’m not interested in that.
"Mother" does not exist.
"Mother" as a status, as an identity,
as power or lack of power,
as a position of the dominated, or the dominating
as victim and executioner.
That doesn’t exist.
Such things have never existed.
There is love and that is something completely different.
-Hello? -Where are you? I can't see you.
At home. He doesn’t want to come.
What? Why doesn’t he want to come?
Do you want to grab a coffee at Place Dauphine?
Okay.
I’m coming down. See you soon.
Do you still swim?
It’s crazy.
It’s unbearable.
Do you want to discuss "problems"? Do you want to fight?
Why are you always longing for conflict? Conflict, conflict... so crazy.
-You’re so violent. -I didn’t say anything, Laurent.
But... do you understand how this affects Paul?
Stop. Paul is fine. When he’s not with you, he’s fine.
Good grades, he shines in school, good friends, he’s happy.
Then he sees you and it’s over.
The moment he sees you, he gets upset and feels torn.
Yes.
You want more responsibility. But are you trying to make money?
I heard you don’t want to go back to law.
I pay for the school. Do you think it’s normal that I pay for everything?
My concern is Paul.
And you? You want alimony so you can live...
...your dream of being a tormented poet in an attic?
Isn’t that selfish?
All this... to write some stupid nonsense?
It causes a minor stir in your new artistic hipster bubble?
You’re pathetic, Laurent.
I don’t recognize you.
This isn’t fair.
We all end up there anyway.
Anything else you want to say?
Then I’ll pay the bill.
Do you ever miss it?
-Miss what? -Living in the castle.
I can’t see myself playing tennis anymore.
Can we take a walk in the park?
What’s happening now?
It can’t be easy for Laurent. All your escapades...
My escapades?
Your affairs with women in Paris. You write about it in your book...
-I understand why he found it difficult. -Oh, you understand?
Let me remind you that I can’t see my child anymore.
Okay... "Understand" that.
What time is it? It’s late...
-Who? The nurse? -Yes... for my Subutex.
She doesn’t leave them. She doesn’t trust me.
Can you believe that?
Anyway. It’s good that your book is getting published.
I want some Play-Doh.
It’s not Play-Doh, it’s sticky putty.
She can’t... She can’t see me.
I was so cute!
Tiramisu!
-My first. It was so good. -You liked it.
Do you remember the man at the hotel who sold the t-shirt with the Italian flag to us?
Yes, I remember.
It was really expensive, but you still bought it for me.
You liked it so much that I couldn’t say no.
You said: “The good life, or not the good life?”
The t-shirt is a bit too small now... I’ve kept it anyway.
Let’s take a picture with my phone.
With your phone?
Dad bought one for me as a birthday gift.
Really?
That’s great. We can text each other.
Can I have your number?
Dad said I shouldn’t give it out. You’ll have to ask him.
Come here.
It’s okay.
Wait a minute... I don’t want your Virgin Mojito.
So, you have a new one?
-No. -Yes, you do.
No.
I’m done with it.
Hitting on girls all the time.
It’s tiring for everyone.
And Paul?
Paul... We meet up.
He’s sad.
I am too.
-Yo. -Hey.
This heat is extreme.
Did you swim this morning?
-Is the water cold? -Not too bad.
-Can I come? -No.
I didn’t want to anyway.
-How’s it going? -Yeah...
-Are you okay? -I’m on my fourth.
We’ve drunk two bottles!
-Take my glass, so you’ll catch up. -No, water.
A glass of red wine.
-Not so bad, right? -What?
The house in Dunkirk?
We said we’d drop it. He wants to rent a house in Dunkirk...
Where did you disappear to?
-What's going on with you two? -Nothing.
Nothing?
-How are you? -I’m good.
Goodbye!
Have fun.
Now we’re leaving.
Have a nice evening!
Good night.
Will you be okay?
-Good night. -Sweet dreams!
Sleep well.
Can I?
-They’re like teenagers! -They’re mostly just drunk.
-Clémence. -Sarah.
Is this your favorite café? Do you come here often?
Yes, I live nearby.
-Do you live nearby? -Not exactly.
It depends.
It depends?
It depends.
Does this mysterious aura usually work on women?
Yes. Yes, mostly. Can’t complain.
-I’m going to guess what you do for work. -No. You’ll never guess right!
Yes, I will. I’m really good at it. I promise.
-And what do I win? -I get three guesses, okay?
If you win... I’ll buy you a drink.
You’ll buy me a drink... and give me your number.
I’ll buy you a drink and take your number.
Okay then.
-You’re a DJ. -What?
-Why not? -Do I look like a DJ?
It’s your vibe... Aren’t you a DJ?
You don’t work at a bank, do you?
Now I’m offended. But, hey...
You have one last guess.
-Banker doesn’t count! -Yes, it does.
-No, it doesn’t! -Yes.
-You’re a gym teacher. -Give me your phone.
-You’re brave, huh? -Yes.
Thank you.
-You’re a journalist. -How did you guess that?
What do I win?
I think you’ve won enough today.
Calm down, lone rider.
Call me.
Mom!
-Hello. -Hello.
I have to hurry, I’m double parked.
Goodbye, master.
-Call me if you need anything, okay? -I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad.
-Do you want to run? -Yes, let’s go!
Faster, faster!
What is it?
Are we going to make it, mom?
Yes. We’re going to make it, my darling.
Watch out for the step.
Are you okay, master?
It wasn’t that long!
We’ll see each other in two weeks.
We’re going to the sea!
Come on. Do you want to go to the movies?
Let’s go!
-See you in two weeks? -Now you’re getting physical? Incredible.
Come in.
Damn me.
Are you okay?
Is this okay?
I should go...
-Why? -It’s dawn.
Do you turn into a princess if you don’t go now?
Maybe...
I’ll take the chance.
Do you want coffee?
No, don’t touch me!
Stay away from me!
I hate all touch.
Come with me, if you dare!
Madame Clémence! I didn’t know you were here.
Your dad is a lucky man.
-Tell him that! -I’ll tell him right away.
Dad?
Come on!
You’re always in my dreams.
Once they were complicated dreams.
Now they’re simpler dreams.
We’re doing fine. You’re here with me... and on the other side is my life.
Girls saying they want to live with me.
It’s strange with all these dreams of love, right now.
Silent, calm dreams.
With nothing in the way between me and you, between me and them.
Of course, they’re just dreams.
In reality
you’re not really here.
I’m here.
Okay.
-Are you scared? -No.
You should be.
-I’m formidable. -I can handle it.
Really?
I’ll tell you a legend.
And after, if you’re ready, we’ll swim to the other shore.
I’m ready!
A long, long time ago, there lived a terrible, but very rich landowner.
His castle was in the middle of a lake.
On New Year’s Eve, at midnight, an old beggar woman knocked on his door
and asked for some bread and a sip of wine to warm herself.
The landowner slammed the door
and mocked her ugly face and ragged clothes.
Immediately, the entire castle sank to the bottom of the lake,
thanks to the beggar woman’s curse.
Since then, people say that in the heart of the lake
there’s an evil whirlpool that sucks down anyone who dares cross it.
Can you introduce us, darling?
This is Sarah, my dad.
My dad, Sarah.
Nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me come.
-Don’t you get hot in that? -No, it’s fine.
You’re breaking my heart...
Yeah, I know.
We’re at your dad’s.
My dad isn’t a priest, honey.
Are you going to introduce me to Paul sometime?
Yes.
Maybe.
We’ll see.
-Are you sure you don’t want to undress? -Yes, I’m sure.
I like being here with you.
Do you like hanging out with pensioners who are on Subutex?
Yes, it’s totally my thing. That decaying aristocratic atmosphere.
I said I like being here with you.
I do too.
I like you.
It was cool living here. Be nice to the girls! Love, Clémence.
PS: I left my sweater for you, I know you love it!
Can we talk about it or should we avoid it?
We can talk about it.
I don’t really like open relationships and such.
I’ve gotten over it.
Okay.
Just “okay,” or... Okay, I accept it?
Okay, I accept it.
Look. Green looks good, right?
-Yes. Does he like green? -I don’t know. I think so.
Do you think so?
Does he know I exist?
Green is good.
Then it’s not the same as mine.
I’ll pay.
50 euros, please.
Same as yours!
There you go.
Very nice.
-It’s really cool. -Yes.
-I picked the right one. -Yes.
-Do you see it? -Yes.
It’s your initials. I’ll take your last name when I grow up.
Are you sure? It’s a name with baggage.
I want the same name as you and Grandpa.
You decide.
How’s school, Paul?
-Good. -Really?
-Do you still go to elementary school? -No, preparatory school.
Paul goes to a private school.
Mom...
Why didn’t we go to the sea, like you said?
Because Laurent didn’t want me to bring you.
But I waited for you. I waited for you all summer.
I know.
I’m tired of you both.
Besides, Dad is right. You’re just selfish.
You want to live your own life. You don’t care about us.
That’s not true, Paul.
I care.
Paul...
Paul, I know you’re angry and you have the right to be.
But it’s not because your dad and I broke up
that we’re not seeing each other. Okay?
Laurent is very angry with me and doesn’t want me to see you.
He’ll change his mind. In the meantime, we have to do our best.
Make do with this. With what we have.
Okay?
I know it’s awful and we both deserve better.
It’s unfair. But there’s nothing I can do to change it.
I’m sorry.
-I want to leave. -Wait, Paul, maybe we can talk...
I want to leave!
I see what’s happening. Do you know that? I see it.
-Really? -Yes.
-I can’t understand anything. -You can, actually.
I took care of your file this summer. I read it again.
I’ll take this and put it in the file.
We’ll get there.
We will.
I’ll give you a moment.
It’s cold. It’s frozen.
It’s disgusting.
It’s cold, isn’t it?
Is that all?
Touch it. It’s cold.
No, I believe you.
Tried to book the weekend with Paul. NO RESPONSE.
Laurent cancels the weekend with Dad.
Paul’s birthday. NO NEWS.
Tried to book the weekend again. NO RESPONSE.
Hello, madame Delcourt, it’s madame Dureau from the meeting center.
It’s late, but I wanted to check how you’re doing.
I’m sorry that Paul’s father canceled again.
I shouldn’t say this, but what he’s doing is pathetic.
I’ve put a letter in your file.
It’s not normal, but... I’m worried about Paul.
I think it’s urgent. He didn’t seem well last time.
I thought maybe we should contact social services...
But you never know how it will end...
They could place him in foster care
and that would make it even longer for you to reunite.
When he’s placed in foster care, he’s registered there until he turns 18.
After thinking it over, I think it’s best not to do that.
There’s not much more we can do for now.
I’m really sorry.
Anyway, I’ll try to contact Paul’s father again.
I’ll get back to you. Don’t hesitate to call if you need.
Have a nice evening.
She says she can’t take it anymore.
That my life is hard and that I’m difficult.
She says she can’t stand how I treat her,
when I go out at night and disappear for a few days
and then come back madly in love.
She can’t handle it anymore, the crazy love and then the coldness.
She’s tired of the wild child.
She’s tired of my arrogance, my silly statements,
which go from better to worse.
She says that one day she will leave me.
Maybe it’s because of the winter that we’re like this.
-Can we go now? -Yes, of course.
You have two hours.
Enjoy now. Hurry up.
How beautiful!
Watch out, grandma!
-What do we do now? -I thought maybe we could go bowling?
That’s a great idea!
But... No, it won’t work.
We’ll be late. Sorry.
-How about a movie? -No, we don’t have time.
-An ice cream? -That’s fine with me!
What is it?
You’re amazing. I think you’re amazing.
It’s in our Delcourt blood.
-Can you show the apartment next time? -Yes.
Of course. You’ll see, it’s nothing special.
-I still want to see it. -Okay.
Maybe I can drop some of my stuff there?
Whatever you want.
Do you remember how you always wanted to come here? When you were in preschool?
No, I don’t remember that.
-So? -I didn’t expect you to come.
I came to cheer for you.
-Is Paul still inside? -Yes.
Laurent is always late. He does it to avoid meeting me.
Shall we go?
-I just wanted to meet him. -But now I’m in trouble!
Calm down. I just wanted to meet Paul.
I find it very strange that I haven’t met him.
I’m speechless.
I think it suits you, this “meeting center.”
You wouldn’t have wanted me to meet him even if you had a normal life.
What?
Do you hear what you’re saying?
What if Laurent had seen you? A “normal life”? What does that mean?
This is my life. I’ve fought to see my child for two years.
Paul...
...is forbidden ground.
-If you don’t understand that, then leave. -No one speaks to me like that, Clémence.
-Can you stay until I fall asleep? -Okay.
Then we’ll never see each other again.
Hold on, darling.
I’m sorry.
Excuse me.
Can you help me?
-It’s blocked... -This thing never works.
-Which photo? -That one.
It’ll make a perfect bedroom for Paul.
Should I paint one of his walls?
Can you paint?
No... Leave the white walls alone, please.
Put up some posters. It’ll be perfect, darling.
It’s going to be great.
Next time Laurent emails two hours in advance to cancel.
And next time again.
He also cancels our Saturday session at the meeting center.
The center emails him. He never replies.
It’s due to the negotiation. They’ve set a date in February.
He requested that Paul be heard.
I found out about it afterward.
Paul told the judge that he didn’t want to meet me
and that he never missed me.
He doesn’t call me “crazy” anymore.
It was better than last time.
Hello.
-Haven’t I seen you before? -Yes.
-No progress? -No, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.
I believe you.
Maybe I shouldn’t say this...
...but you seem like a nice person.
Someone you can talk to, I mean.
Me and my papers and my paperwork won’t change anything, you know.
At a certain point, it’s too late.
The children grow up and you can’t win back time.
And that’s what the high gentlemen don’t understand.
Childhood goes fast.
Well...
Tell me.
At 11:10, I arrived at my ex-husband, Laurent Lévèque’s, home.
I should point out that I won the case three months ago.
I will now have custody of my son every other weekend and half of the holidays.
A decision that my ex-husband has not respected a single time.
At 11:10, I arrived at his apartment.
There, I met Gontrand Ducourt, a friend, his lawyer...
He opened the door for me.
There were two other friends inside, Isaac Hofmann and Guillaume Bloy.
Laurent said that this way I couldn’t make things up,
because there were witnesses.
I asked to see my son.
I walked down the hallway and went into his room.
My son was lying on the bed, under the blanket, just like last time.
Laurent was also there.
My son didn’t respond to my questions, didn’t move.
I sat on the edge of the bed and asked Laurent for help.
He replied:
I don’t need to force Paul if he doesn’t want to see you.
He spoke loudly so the others could hear.
I said that he didn’t respect my rights
and that it wouldn’t help Paul.
That I would file a complaint.
At 11:20, I left my son’s room.
In the living room, Laurent said:
“Eventually, you’ll get tired of all this nonsense.”
Do you have anything to add?
Yes. This is the eighth time I’ve filed a complaint.
I think it’s the last time.
Last night when I was cycling I realized something.
I was on my way back to Belleville, crossing Paris,
and realized that the sorrow was over.
Not the usual moment of sorrow...
...but the sorrow that permeates everything.
I realized that I had mourned my son.
I realized that it was enough. I have mourned him.
I felt good.
It’s been years since I felt this good.
It struck me suddenly.
Like waking up cured after the flu.
When I think about it, I hadn’t dreamed about him in months.
I almost called the lawyer to say I didn’t want anything more.
Not even on weekends or holidays.
I realized it was pointless, because it wasn’t working anyway.
There was nothing to say. Nothing to do.
I hardly see him anymore.
We don’t know what to say to each other. We’re becoming strangers.
It will fade away.
The memories of my life with him are fading.
Or rather, they’re somewhere here, but they no longer smother me.
I can see other children without thinking about him.
I think they’re cute. It’s not sad.
It’s no longer a penetrating pain.
Soon, he’ll be old enough to choose not to see me at all.
And that’s okay.
Or maybe he’ll want to come back and live with me.
You never know with teenagers.
Translation: Mats Wennberg Ordiovision
Subtitling: Mac Zodiac