- Evening, Mr Lechat. - Thanks, gentlemen.
Hello, Mr Lechat!
Hello, kids.
Dad! Dad! This is it. I've found it!
- What, honey? - The limited edition Vespa.
Mum said that if I got selected for the audition,
I could find a cheap one: I've found it!
And it's so flashy. You must see it.
4,000 euros. Cheap, eh?
See you soon, Mses. Pinsec.
Regards to your dear sister.
There, Mrs Lechat. That comes to 530 euros.
Thank you, Juliette.
It's perfect.
Thank you. I didn't charge for the moustache.
I'm sorry, Mrs Lechat: there's a problem with your card.
Impossible! It's a Gold Card.
I got this summons. What's it for?
Meet my colleague, Mrs Guézy.
Hello, ma'am.
Mrs Guézy is from TRACFIN:
she investigates illicit financial circuits.
Cayman Islands' account, eh?
What? I've never had a bank account abroad!
Cayman Islands? Where's that, then?
It's a tax haven in the Caribbean.
You know the Caribbean.
You holiday in Saint Barthélemy.
Sure. It's a mistake. Must be another Patrick Lechat.
It's not me.
You blatantly tried to launder money.
1 million euros.
But, fortunately, you were reported.
By whom?
With us, phone calls are always anonymous, Mr Lechat.
1 million euros? Where would I find that much money?
Money you hid from the tax office.
Never. I've always declared everything.
We'll soon see.
I get laughed at for...
What? "See" what?
It's an outrageous mistake!
- If it is one. - What d'you mean?
Of course it is! Don't you doubt it!
Tell your brother I play golf,
I don't rob banks! - Eddy!
"23 October". Out-of-date.
For an outrageous conspiracy, what are the consequences?
We'll have to pay the fine. We have no choice.
Until we sort this thing out. It'll take a while.
- We'll have to be careful. - "Careful"?
The mortgage on your home.
Write "I agree" and sign it.
Fine.
Next, your pharmacy.
OK. Now this, to close your savings accounts.
I'm not amused.
I must ask you for your credit cards.
They're all on it! Naomi, Steph, Prince. Everyone!
Look, it's Lord Cooke.
Of course, it's Cooke Channel.
- It's the show in London. - Now we're broke...
Goodbye dreams...
He won't come to dinner now.
After all my efforts.
Translated into 35 languages. Mr Kermarec...
It's about Paddy's dad!
He gave few interviews...
Mr Lechat.
Terribly sorry. One moment...
I've added a point to the Co-Owners' Meeting agenda:
the height of the lawns should be the same
in every garden here.
- Agreed? - Yes.
Decadence of the Future
voiced the concerns of a whole generation.
Paddy's father is dead. Goodness!
A few photos of him, notably in New York,
when he won the Pulitzer,
the most prestigious American award for literature.
I've just heard wonderful news.
- Your dad's dead. - Dad?
- Yes. - Why's that so funny?
You always said you hated him,
that he was selfish,
an old bastard who left you and your mum.
Well, he's dead. Kaput! Finito!
- Let him go to hell! - How?
I don't know. Old age?
Let's have a glass of champagne.
Well, that's rather sad.
No, no! Wait! That's not all.
He sold millions of books.
The guy was loaded. He was a billionaire!
- Yes, honey. - And who's his heir?
You are, my darling!
Yes, that's true. I'm his only son.
I didn't know him but I'm his.
Let's move!
Kermarec: I remember the name of your father's lawyer.
- Kermarec, yes. E, C... - What?
I think it's a Breton name.
- Sounds like a biscuit brand. - Go and see him.
Yes, I will.
When did you last hear from your father?
What're you getting at? He didn't have any money?
That isn't the problem...
In his will,
he appointed another heir.
What? What?
- Is this a joke? - I understand.
Of course!
You can't disinherit your kids here.
- It's illegal. - Correct.
- So, what's the problem? - Many years ago,
your father gained citizenship of a country where you can...
Which country?
- Ireland. - Hang on!
Who's this heir, then?
- Excuse me. Mr Kermarec. - Excuse me.
- Yes. - Please excuse me.
Who's this heir?
Mr Albert Moulinot. Rouffignac, 24200.
The Dordogne.
No way: up and down like that?!
One day I'm broke, next I'm an heir?
No way.
There's something fishy going on.
Listen, Mr Lechat, go and find this man,
explain the situation:
if he has any Christian charity,
of course he'll share the inheritance with you
like St Martin shared his cloak with a beggar.
I know, I know... I thought that too, Marie-Ange.
Unfortunately, miracles don't exist.
You must fight and not let it get you down!
You won't succeed if you don't try.
True enough.
- Do it. - True enough.
Well, Paddy-baby?
How was it? How much do we get? An estimate?
Inheritances don't come that quickly.
There are procedures, paperwork.
What's the music?
"The music"? I'm throwing a party to celebrate.
I'm in mourning! A party shows pretty bad taste.
Ah? OK. What time will you be home?
- I won't. - Really? Why?
Because... because...
- I'm going to a seminar. - "A seminar"?
At a nutritionist's in Lyon.
Evening, gentlemen.
- Forgive me. - What'll it be?
Nothing. Thank you.
- What're you drinking? - Er... Same as this gentleman.
I'm after Mr Moulinot.
Don't know him.
He must live around here: I wrote down the address.
"Mr Albert Moulinot, Convicts' Lane."
- Albert? - Yes.
Should of said so!
Out the village, right, Dead Man's Pond.
- You can't miss it. - OK. Thank you.
Wait, I'll just pay you. Thanks.
- Out the village and right? - Right.
- Right and... - Straight on.
Ah! Flies, eh?*
He'll not be disappointed.
He'll be eating a mushroom omelette!
A "run-for-it" omelette!
Blast! No way! Bloody place...
Ah! Buggeration! What is that?
"This is my place. No hunters,
"campers or idiots."
Ah, OK...
Hellooo!
Where's he gone?
Has Mr Snoopy woken up?
What was he doing prowling around my place?
- Was he spying on me? - No!
Ah, look!
Here's Mrs Snout!
No!
Mrs Snout really likes your nuts!
Come on! I'm only joking!
Clear off! Out!
Let's have a look.
What a load of shite.
What else is there? D'you mind?
Useless bits of paper. We'll chuck that.
That's useless too.
Ah, this is more interesting: money. Look at this.
Look at these filthy notes.
Know what we do with dosh?
Look. Look. I'll give you fucking money!
Yes, yes... one minute, please!
What does this say, then?
What... I don't get it.
Lechat?
- Talk. - Sure. I'm from Paris.
I came here to see Mr Albert Moulinot
and had a car accident
because of that storm.
Spare me the details of your miserable existence.
I asked if Lechat was your name.
P. Lechat.
The son of Jo Lechat, the writer.
- Liar. - It's the truth!
- The truth?! - I'm not lying, I swear!
I swear it.
I decided to come when I heard he'd died.
What?
- What did you say? - Yes.
- Jo's dead? - Yes.
- I found out 2 days ago. - Jo's dead!
- Jo's dead? - Yes.
- My brother's dead? - "Brother"?
My brother's dead!
Good Lord! Why?
My brother!
My brother...
- Don't leave me here! - Jo's dead!
Mr Moulinot?
Moulinot!
Oh, leave that alone!
Mr Moulinot...
No. Wait. Mr Moulinot...
Don't do something you might regret.
No, no, no!
Hop it! Buzz off!
Nutcase.
Mr Moulinot.
Your animal won't give me my mobile back.
Mr Snout, sod off!
- Thanks. - OK!
Oh, no. It's chewed up. Mr Moulinot...
What now?
Can I use your phone?
I don't have a phone.
I need to make a call because, as I said,
I had car trouble.
I'm not a mechanic either.
You don't understand. I'm not asking you to mend...
"You don't understand"? What don't I understand?
- Nothing. I'll manage. - Good!
Ah, you don't say!
- And it's puked on it. - You don't say.
Earlier, I seem to remember
that you called Jo your brother.
I'm Jo's half-brother.
But your name isn't Lechat.
Moulinot was...
It was my mother's maiden name.
That's incredible! I didn't know I had an uncle.
- Half-uncle... - OK, half-uncle, even.
- That's incredible! - Clearly, you like that word.
So, who gave you my address?
A friend of Jo's.
Listen, Jo, wherever you are, up yours!
Excuse me?
"Up yours." Jo liked to say that
when we had a drank together.
- Can I help you? - That's OK. Hey!
You look OK. Yep, you're fine.
Sure you're fine.
What's it doing? What's it doing?
What's it done to my cashmere sweater?
Filthy thing...
Mr Moulinot?
Decadence of the Future
Mr Moulinot?
I see my father left you his manuscripts.
Originals: that means money...
Memories, I mean.
You're lucky.
My little hens have laid plenty today.
Enough eggs for an omelette for 2.
- Living on an island is great. - Hello, henny-penny..
- It's so peaceful... - Yes.
And so green.
The air smells good.
Well done, hens, good work.
You have a great life. Eh?
Oh, piss off.
What's this here?
Whoa, it's...
It's...
It'll be an exceptional harvest this year.
Wait a minute. It's marijuana!
You could get into trouble. Growing drugs...
is forbidden.
By whom?
Who has the right to decide what's good or bad for me?
Well... no one.
And I, fuck the rule-makers.
They dislike folks smoking it pure!
Ah? "Pure".
No need to buy their cancerous tobacco
that they tax to the hilt.
D'you live like this all year?
How do you mean?
- You don't work? - Certainly not.
Work degrades the free man.
You need a bit of money to live, though.
I'm for the abolition of money.
What about heating, electricity?
I'm hooked up to that power line.
I don't get bills.
And in winter, wine keeps me warm. So there!
Summer too.
You never use money?
That's impossible.
- You have a great life. - Can't complain.
Interesting.
Of course it's "interesting"? What's interesting?
Total freedom versus money. A bit of deprivation...
Real values.
Yes. The love of animals, the...
I'm light years away. I'm too caught up in the system.
I envy you, you know:
being able to live on nothing is true luxury.
Try that.
I suck, but I don't swallow.
Right. "I don't swallow"?
- Poor arse! - Poor?
Oh yes.
Well I never!
Are you sure your mushrooms are edible?
I'm a pharmacist, you know.
The red one with white spots on top:
isn't that fly agaric?
Don't have it, then! All the more for me!
I'm sure you're careful.
You seem sure.
- Don't worry. - Sure.
What a guy!
Run-for-it
It's ready!
Dinner time!
Thank you.
Listen, Albert...
I prefer "Mr Moulinot". Right, then.
- Eat up before it gets cold. - Of course.
It looks good. Right, then...
Last night, I wanted to talk to you.
Perhaps you didn't notice, because you were...
- What? - A little tipsy.
Well, yes.
Even when I drink a lot,
I remember everything.
So, don't say any old rubbish.
I'd be drinking water
if I forgot the great moments when I'm pissed. Really!
You fell asleep and I...
You know, when someone dies,
someone inherits.
Ah!
So that's why you're here.
- For bloody money! - No. Not at all!
Let me explain.
I hate lies, I'm not a liar.
There was a little omission
in the wording of Jo's will.
Dad's will.
"Dad."
So, there was... what's it called?
- A mistake? - Absolutely.
Jo...Dad...left you everything.
I don't get it. Every penny he earned?
- None to you? - No.
Nothing at all?
He was so ill at the end. He must've lost his marbles.
Especially his memory:
he must've forgotten he had a son,
a relative, family.
Family is what you create for yourself.
My family is Mr Snout and my little hens.
Yes, of course. But I think it would be natural,
in fact, logical,
that we split it fifty-fifty, meet each other halfway.
Share.
"Share"? I'm not sharing. I'm sharing nothing.
No way am I sharing. Read my lips!
I'll neverrr share!
You can have it all. Everything. I don't want a thing!
This isn't a joke, Mr Moulinot.
- You'll give me all of it? - Everything!
I have everything I need. I want for nothing.
Money's a stinky, hard drug!
- Don't you agree? - True enough.
My wife and I have taken on some big loans.
- We're a bit... - You're married?
You clearly like to compromise with yourself.
I bet you have children too.
Yes. Chelsea, my 14-year-old daughter.
With all due respect, we need to call the lawyer.
- What? - It's burning!
Just my luck: I bet I ate a bad mushroom,
the red and white one!
Ah yes. It may be that. But calm down.
Dying just as I'm going to give you Jo's money
is very stupid.
I'm going to die!
If it's the 'shrooms, you've had it.
Where's your loo?
Which newspaper d'you want? Figaro?
I don't want to read, I want the loo!
I don't keep them for reading.
Here.
The shed on the right. On the right.
- D'you want Le Monde too? - No!
OK. Be polite, won't you?
Just say: "I don't need Le Monde."
Oh no... no way!
Should've taken Le Monde too.
- No! Mind the puddles! - I don't do it on purpose.
How did you find out who the heir was?
He's my uncle. It's quite normal.
What?
Yes, he's here. He's, er...
Mr Moulinot.
- The lawyer wants a word. - Why? You told him.
Yes. But he wants a word with you.
Here.
You hold it the other way around. That's it.
Yes, that's me.
It was a shock.
Say you'll give it to me.
I'm giving it to Patrick. Like he says.
Ah yes.
- Can we do it another way? - What?
- No? That's a pain. - What?
What's going on?
Wasn't on purpose.
- Are you sure? - Oh no...
Can't we do it another way... Yes?
OK. See you then. Yes.
No! That's terrible!
No. That was my mouth. Don't go over the top!
Open the door! Deary me!
- What a fuss! - Terrible!
What did the lawyer say?
I must sign an inheritance waiver
in his office.
In Paris? Why? Can't he send it?
No! He said I had to sign it in front of him
for it to be valid.
- Tomorrow morning. - We're going to Paris together?
Oh no...
What? Well, yes!
- Do you want my dosh? - Yes.
It seems to upset you.
- No. - Yes, it's obvious!
It's how you say it!
- Didn't I do what you want? - Yes.
- Are you happy? - Totally.
OK. I'll get a few things from home and we'll get going.
We can't drive this slowly all the way.
No more than 25 mph, I said!
Move it!
I will, gents. Don't worry.
I have to speed up: we're going too slowly.
- They'll fine me. - The bastards!
- They've got a law on that too? - Yep.
We must obey the law.
Yes, clearly you have to...
Like a corporal, a soldier.
Well, I won't obey! I'm not that flexible! So there!
We'll take the motorway.
I don't like motorways. They don't have bars!
- It'll save us time. - No!
- We stay on small roads. - We've a long trip ahead.
We have plenty of time.
I love the countryside, joints...
Have a little nap: you won't even know we're driving.
Bullshit!
What a shame having a car that... Forget it.
- Where's my Perrier? - Got the key. This way.
Any trouble with your uncle, you come and get him.
Don't worry. He's rough-and-ready, but...
Ah, seriously! Ah, dammit!
- How long's he here? - A night.
Just 24 hours.
Hello?
Mr Martinez? Yes, it's Mrs Lechat.
Paddy!
A nutter at the gate claims to be your uncle.
He's my nephew! Is this guy thick or what?
Let him in? OK. Good night, Mrs Lechat.
OK! Let's go!
- Who is he? - A family friend.
What "family friend"?!
Patrick!
What the fuck're they doing? Is no one home?
No, Mr Moulinot. It's here.
No, no, OK, OK, OK...
- I say! - Careful.
The neighbour's flowers. This way. Shh.
- Patrick! - OK! I heard you.
- Wasn't on purpose. - Yes, I know.
This way.
The head man at the hotel wrote down your address.
The taxi driver showed me the way.
You'd better pay: he's holding Mr Snout hostage.
Ah! It smells good in there!
That way to the nosh?
- Let's go! - What d'you want?
Well, I'd like...
a wee drink, because I'm thirsty, of course!
Oh! Lookee! That bottle! Aye!
It looks lively, oo-argh!
Why're you using that silly accent?
"Silly"? I be a man o' the land.
I be a country lad, me.
Open it, son.
A grand cru: drink in moderation.
My treasure, will you introduce us?
- Who is he? - My uncle.
- She's your lady? - Yes.
Well, since you're my half-niece,
gimme a kiss!
Oh! I love you!
Oh yes, I love you.
Ah! That's the taxi driver. He wants his filthy money.
- Hear it? - Here. I'll go.
See how gentle I was with your wife?
I saw. What would "not gentle" be?
You're my half-nephew's little girl, right?
- "Sell-Cheese". - No. Chelsea.
- "Sell-Cheese". - Chelsea!
- Chelsea. - OK.
I'll never get it.
And I'm your Uncle Albert.
- This is Mr Snout! - What is that?
It's a wild animal!
I've got Mr Thingy's box. It's empty.
She hadn't heard of me, Paddy.
You're being familiar!
Now that we're en famille, we'll drop the ceremonial.
- Call me Bertie! - OK.
- I'll call you Paddy. - OK.
Tell me! Tell me you love me!
Yes, OK. Why did you leave the hotel?
- Well... "Bertie"! - "Bertie" what?
- "Why did you leave, 'Bertie'"! - OK! Bertie.
What happened?
Sorry... I'm depressed.
- Really depressed. - Blast.
I'm always like this when I'm far from home.
- When I leave town... - OK, OK.
- The blues. - OK. I'll put you...
in the guest room, Bertie.
- Yes, be nice. Don't leave me. - No. I won't leave you.
Don't you worry about that.
This way...
- Where is he? Mr Moulinot? - Yes!
- What you doing with that? - There's no fence
outside!
- You want your moped in here? - Yes.
It won't get nicked.
- Easy! - Mind the paintwork.
- Yes, but mind the vehicle. - Yes, I am!
- It's awful! - Oh, bugger this.
Sorry. I'm depressed.
I'm depressed...
Here's your room...
The bathroom's there.
- I'll put the moped there. - Really?
Oh no! Not him! That's the limit!
Not in the sheets...
There. Now it won't be in the way.
- In the bathtub? - Have you eaten? I haven't!
It's 1:00 am. Personally... I...
Time for a little snack, though, eh?
- Well? - Yes. OK, well...
You'll find everything you want in the fridge.
- I'll leave you to it... Bertie. - OK.
Hey, who painted that thing? You?
I wanted to be an artist.
Ah? Really?
- I painted with my fingers. - Yes.
Maybe you should try it with mittens or your toes?
Yes. Good night.
- One thing. - What now?
I'm really glad I'm here with you, with my family.
- I really am. - Yes.
Well, so am I... So are we.
- OK. - OK.
- See you tomorrow. - OK. Tomorrow.
- See you tomorrow, Paddy. - Yes, OK.
- See you, then. - OK.
OK. He'll get a slice of our inheritance.
- No, he's not. - So why's he here?
I just told you: he's family.
He must be at the will opening.
I don't believe it.
He's nothing like you.
You sure that bumpkin's your uncle?
Half-uncle. There can be leeway physically.
I can't help but find it strange:
an uncle, half-uncle, whom you've never heard of
appears from nowhere
when your dad dies.
I never spoke to my dad.
How would I know he had a brother?
Nor is he a typical bumpkin:
he sounds like Dad's books.
OK, OK. So he's read them.
He's a literate bumpkin, then!
There's something weird about this.
Mum! Mum, Mum!
Chelsea, what's wrong?
Look at the kitchen! It's the Bronx!
Mr Moulinot, it's 9:00 am. Time to get up.
The lawyer's waiting.
Mr Moulinot.
Where is he? Moulinot?
- They're wrecked. Ghastly! - Where is he?
- It's not that bad... - You're not the cleaner!
He hadn't had any dinner.
- Everything's trashed! - Have you seen him?
He did it on purpose!
Where is he?
I can't believe it!
Mr Lechevalier here.
Thank you for telling us.
Mr Moulinot?
Moulinot? Oh my gosh...
What is he doing?
Albert!
What're you doing? Who are you?
And who are you to ask me who I am?
We're the security here.
What? What's wrong, Sheriff?
Ain't I allowed in your town?
Right, come with us!
Stop! Stop, stop! No!
- It's nothing. - D'you know him?
Absolutely. Albert, be sensible!
He's a friend. I'll sort it out.
Albert!
Here, thank you. Something for the inconvenience.
Albert!
You have your own police?
You're petrified of everything, eh?
A minor luxury. We feel safer.
Oh yeah? You're a bunch of scaredy-cats!
Let's go. Put the moped away. The lawyer's waiting.
- That's him, Pat's uncle. - Oh, my God! It's "Basic Man"!
25 mph! Maximum!
Why's he in the back? Is he a retard?
Yes, a cow poke.
Mr Lechat...
Mr Kermarec had to go to Quimper.
We had an appointment.
I know. Mr Kermarec waited as long as he could.
- His grandma died. - Awful.
- Yes. He loved her very much. - Eh?
- His grandma. - Great.
- Back when? - 3 days.
No way... I don't believe it! Blast!
- Blast! Blast! - Problem?
A big one.
Yes. We drove at 2 mph, the lawyer didn't wait.
We'll come back.
There's no hurry. Oh well...
Come on. Come on, come on!
I can't go back to the hotel: I'm depressed.
Yes, well...
Plus your wife is very attractive.
What's he doing? No way!
It's a car... What a disaster!
Stop that!
He's with you till the lawyer gets back?
Yes. That's why...
I'm asking you to run things here.
What a nice man he is.
What d'you mean?
To give you his money.
Generosity opens the gates to Heaven.
Quit saying those lousy proverbs!
Ah! What are you doing?
Ah, that, that... That is...
71 kg.
71 kg, very good. But just be careful.
About what?
Marie-Ange means everyone should be prudent
an avoid bad habits.
I'm not everyone and I don't want to be prudent!
- Let's go. - Right.
I avoid people who are prudent!
Let's go.
You're being very difficult,
but I'm sure you're very nice deep-down.
- Oh dear! How awful! - Wise words, Marie-Ange.
Certainly not! Being nasty is such fun!
- Sure. - Do that up properly now.
Yes. Thank you.
Give that here.
You know, I read Decadence of the Future.
Albert sounds like your dad's book.
He's read it, that's all.
OK, but even then...
What's your wife called?
Monique. Well, she likes to be called Barbara.
It was her opera stage name.
Really?
Your Barbara doesn't have very big tits.
I like 'em big and firm.
My prozzies in Périgueux have big tits.
And your brother-in-law, Eddy: is he a loafer?
Ah no. Not at all.
Barbara found him a job.
He's a pet groomer, goes to people's houses.
- Really? - Yes.
- A pooch barber. - Yes.
Hear that, Mr Snout?
Pooch barber!
When're we eating?
Oh, hell...
It's so hot. I'm sweating.
Well, what d'you expect?
Luckily, we've got plonk. Otherwise...
Have a swim if you like. It'll cool you down.
- You want to kill me? - Not at all.
You said you were hot. There's a pool,
so why don't you take a dip?
Oh right. No, I'm not bathing in that.
It's full of toxic chemicals.
Plus, I can't swim.
I'll repeat my question: what time are we eating?
There's no set time. Just help yourself.
Ah, OK.
There's nothing to eat in your larder!
- Barbara'son Karl's diet. - Oh yes? Karl Marx?
Lagerfeld.
Although I have a well-nourished soul,
I also need to eat food.
Yes, of course. Absolutely.
- How could it have come to this? - What's up?
All of this, it's awful. It's all so ugly.
There are some well-stocked shops inside.
These people living in shops are like moles:
they don't notice each other.
Maybe. But you can get anything here.
- You coming? - It's hideous! Hideous!
Are these folk pushing the trolleys
or are the trolleys pulling them?
Call that food?
It's just products in cardboard or plastic.
Come on.
When you have guests
you don't make them eat that?
Course not.
Well, I'm your guest, aren't I, Paddy?
Of course, Albert. Of course.
Of course...
- Don't make me eat that. - I won't.
I've put the Bergerac wine in here.
The Châteaux Angélus are in here. I'll wrap this.
No! I'm keeping it. D'you have a corkscrew?
That's 523 euros,Mr Lechat.
523? One second.
523... What did you add? It's costing me a fortune.
Oh dear! I'm giving him all my inheritance
and he's being miserly. Can you believe it?
Let's go.
Have you run out of dosh? Are you skint?
It's because of your tax fraud.
- I'll be back to pay in a flash. - Sure!
Cheapskate!
Hey, thingy!
No. No!
Pat?
- Pat, my treasure? - Yes, I'm here.
- Honey? - You went shopping?!
Yes. The Cookes finally accepted my dinner invitation.
- Oh no! - Don't worry.
There's a tiny bill from Dalloyau.
Hi, Paddy.
- Paddy-baby, the lawyer: how much? - Why the rush?
If there's money, we'll celebrate.
- "If"? - Heritage is not sure?
It is. The lawyer had to go somewhere. He'll be back.
When?
- End of the week. - So, Albert's still here?
Oh, listen...
For 3 days. It's not that long.
Is that him?
Go easy!
Dirty creature!
Clear off! Clear off!
What a savage!
He's not making dinner for the Cookes?
He's decided to make dinner, so that's that! Period!
Move it!
You're wrong to doubt his cooking.
He cooked for me at his.
Apart from the mushrooms,
it was very good.
Think of your daughter:
this is to ask Lord Cooke
if she can sing on his show!
Top People means dollars and glory!
Maybe we can have a say in this!
Absolutely not!
- You'll ruin it! - I won't.
People tell me you have a great show.
It's nice to have you here.
Here I come!
Dinner time, my friends!
- This is Albert. - Hello there.
Excuse me, love!
- Get out the way! - OK!
Good evening. So...
What do we say?
Bravo!
- Bravo to the chef! - It's very French.
What is it?
Good earthy, regional cuisine.
That's right!
Typically French.
Excuse me.
Cheese, poultry...
- It's the embryos from Alien! - Chelsea!
Nouvelle cuisine is has-been.
Take a seat.
I serve you, Denise?
- Sit down! - Your plate, please.
Help yourself, love.
It's a new slow food. Very authentic.
Yes. Back-to-earth style.
It's very trendy.
Back-to-nature, no doubt.
Cheers.Cheers! Up yours.
- Who's this guy? - My uncle.
Well, half, half-uncle.
Yes. But uncle still.
- Thanks. - Family.
No fuss, guys.
- What? - Don't be fussy.
- He's so French. - Yes.
You have it good. It's nice here.
Yes. Barbara decorated the house.
Yes. I went for Phil Spark.
I love the urban, neo-colonial look...
Not that.
I meant: you want for nothing. You have all you need.
- Like me. - Meaning?
I have all I need.
You have all you need.
- We want for nothing. - He's gonna ruin it.
Why d'you want to talk about that?
Have you seen the manouches the other side of the gate?
We call them "travellers".
Gypsies...
- They settle here and there. - Good singers.
- We have them as well. - Everybody has them.
Those gypsies look...
- They look very poor. - Yes.
I regularly give them money.
Eh? You always say the world's a jungle
where the weak perish.
- You said that? - Admit it.
What's with you?
When you do a kind deed, you don't announce it.
- Affirmative. - You have to be discreet.
Can I suggest something?
We could all give to the gypsies without anyone knowing.
Why not?
- He's a funny man. - Very eccentric.
Colourful.
Cheers. Clink glasses, guys.
Would you care for wine?
Clearly, they're very reserved.
Cheers!
Easy, honey!
You said he wasn't an heir.
He went on about money!
With his innuendos, moralising...
- What's he meant to say? - Stop.
I'm not into this "earthy" stuff!
No one said you were.
This "Grandpa the cook" thing is weird!
- More than weird! - It's not...
You're exaggerating.
It was just a "no-fuss" dinner.
This won't be easy.
He won't make things easy.
Mr Snout!
Mr Snout... What's he up to now?
Mr Snout!
Well, well, Ma'am. Oh yes, Ma'am...
What's wrong? What's happened?
Oh, blast.
- I'm hurt. - That's it! I've had enough!
- Enough! - What happened?
I was in the bath
and I caught him eyeing me up
like some lecherous hippie!
He must've wanted something from the bathroom,
he wasn't ogling.
What? He never washes!
All part of his "earthy" philosophy.
He reeks of hen coops and cheese!
I'll clarify things with him: that hurt!
Here I go.
Idiotic society.
- You alright? - I'm bored.
Pardon? Sorry, I didn't hear you.
I'm bored.
I've had... well...
No. We'll find a solution.
- What? - I don't know. Whatever you like.
I'm bored. I don't want to stay here.
- We'll find something... - Eh?
What would you like to do?
We're going to get whacked!
- Watch out! - Why doesn't your wife like me?
She does!
What have I done wrong?
Barbara has a strong personality, but she adores you.
- How old is she? - 39.
"39"? Has she jammed the meter?
"Jammed the meter"?
Why d'you say that?
Because your father never took care of you,
so I feel duty-bound.
You fucker!
Look at him! His head's upside down!
Let's do it.
No! I get dizzy on a stool!
You'll never get me on that.
That ride turned my stomach. I can't eat.
"Can't eat"? Here, have an oyster.
No way! Plus...
Knowing my luck, I'll probably get a bad one.
Remember the mushroom omelette...
Yes. That's true.
- Yes, that mushroom. - It's not funny.
I could've been seriously ill.
- Huh! - Mushrooms are bad.
Albert's not evil.
Come on, eat your oyster, Paddy.
- No. - Yes. Go on, eat it.
- One little oyster! - Just one.
At last!
No! Not with a fork. With your knife, like this.
Then swallow it. Swallow!
It's still moving. See?
- Yes. - Eat it.
- Indulge yourself while you... - That's the word.
Let's have another drink!
I won't have enough money to pay.
- I have enough money. - I'm short.
I know. I hear you. I can cover it.
- Hey, my friend, same again, please. - Same again?
Yes.
We'd like to see the boss.
- Is there a problem? - There may be.
There may be a problem.
- What problem? - Relax.
Let me sort things out.
- But... - One has to try.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Anything's possible.
Never say never.
What now? We opened early for you.
Thank you, but...
You've never seen ones like this.
Look.
They're beauties, eh?
Mr Snout's family are great truffle hunters.
Sniff that. Sniff it!
That's it.
- They smell good. - Yep.
- Worth a lot of dosh. - I dunno.
They are. Let's make a trade. Forget the bill, eh?
This is a trade! OK? Now, let's have a drink.
Clink glasses! There we go! Drinks are on me!
Life's easy with you. It is.
I dunno how you can find your way home:
these houses are all the same.
Deary me...
Your place has been cloned.
There we go.
Deary me... Oh! Not him again!
Yuck
What're you doing?
I'm not allowed to smoke in the house.
You can sit on a sunbed by the pool.
I loathe that kind of furniture.
You always criticise everything.
Yep.
Are you crying?
Yes, you are. I can see a little tear.
I can see it. Well, your boyfriend's an idiot.
I'm right, eh?
Aren't I?
Nope, not at all.
The fun thing about a secret is revealing it.
There is no secret.
I met someone very important
and it went badly.
Oh yeah?
Who was this "important" person?
A TV producer who auditioned me
for the show Star on a Weekend.
It's my mum...
She so wants me to be a singer!
- What for? - To be on TV.
To get known.
That's interesting, being inside an image box,
a piece of furniture.
But it's so exciting: singing, being famous!
Famous?
When you're famous, people recognise you.
- What? Neighbours, shopkeepers? - Everyone.
Forget about you...
wouldn't you rather see someone who's a bit different?
Dad! Dad! Dad!
Dad, look what he's doing outside!
- What's he doing? - Look. Quick!
- On the guards' car. - You like that, eh?
At least he can do what he wants.
- Do I restrict you? - I wish!
You couldn't care less about me.
Don't complain. I didn't have a dad.
Lucky bugger!
Lovely girl.
Lovely girl. So gentle. Great, great, great...
Dickhead!
Wasn't on purpose.
- Bailiff's letter. - Are they coming?
No. I'll sort it out.
Is Cro-Magnon Man staying? He'll pounce on me.
He won't. He likes big tits.
Get to know him a bit.
Talk to him: it'll change things.
Call him Albert.
He'll like feeling included.
He'll ask me to wash his clothes.
Big underpants in my machine! No thanks!
Why "big underpants"?
Mrs Gratin, I've left your monthly pay
on the kitchen table. - No rush.
I know.
But, what's done is done.
I've got work to do!
My goodness!
Chemist
Hello, Marie-Ange. Give me some Molzac.
Not without a prescription.
Marie-Ange, I need an antidepressant now!
That's how I am, that's how it is!
Haven't you heard? Our house is living hell.
A maniac has taken control. I've had enough!
You need to keep quiet:
you don't want him to change his mind.
What? What do you mean?
- Mr Lechat hasn't told you? - No.
Tell me. What is it?
I thought married couples told each other everything.
If he decided not to tell you,
I'm not going to...
OK. You know he's an expert of the unsaid.
Tell me what it's about. What's going on?
Mr Lechat's father disinherited him completely.
But Albert said he'd give him everything.
Oh dear! I said nothing!
The wise achieve everything in silence.
No way! That's 3 times!
I'm cursed!
Relax. You're a man of virtue.
Things'll work out.
You could help me out...
I can't. You know me well enough.
Even if I could, I couldn't.
Oh no! No way.
Here's to you two, Homo erectus.
Who is it?
May I come in? It's Mrs Lechat.
Affirmative.
I don't want to disturb you, Mr Moulinot.
Now and again, I have to give the moped a wee boost
because it seizes up.
Right.
Is it just us 2 here?
Yes. Paddy left early. Didn't you hear him?
So, I thought we could use this time
to get to know each other, chat...
I'm all ears.
Clearly, we're not from the same world,
but I won't hold that against you
and in fact, in fact,
your originality has changed us a little...
in a rewarding way.
And I wanted to ask you for something.
Not money!
No. No, no... I'm joking.
No, no, no. OK, listen, here goes:
we're in the same family, so I could call you Albert
and you could call me Barbara.
I'd rather call you by your real name: Monique.
No. Listen, don't worry, forget it.
- Is that a problem? - No. Keep things as they are.
Forget it. Let's not complicate...
- OK. It's your choice. - OK.
I'll be off, then.
Already? We only just started.
Four times! Can you believe it?
The bailiffs are after me.
Aim for my foot.
See? It's OK when you aim at my foot.
Maybe a good sign.
Paddy never said? We're having a tough time.
OK! You could pawn your jewellery!
- Pawn it! - That's my engagement ring.
Oh dear...
Is that our chat over?
Yes. What's the point?
Oh, all that's left is what we say or do,
not what we think.
I heard you sing.
You sing well, Monique.
- Really, you sing very well. - Really?
Will you sing for me?
- Yes. But what? - Monique...
- I'll get my instrument. - OK.
- What, though? - Just listen, Monique.
Barbara?
- What's going on? - He peed on me!
My Roberto Cavalli négligé is ruined!
Pure acid on pure silk!
No! That's enough now! No and no again!
Listen here... This is too much!
I mean, where will it end?
Barbara!
I didn't do it on purpose.
Wasn't on purpose.
Albert's mean. He won't give us a thing.
Several times I asked him:
"Will you sign the waiver?"
He got cross because I insisted.
He swore he would, on Jo's life.
That's easy, he's dead!
He wants money abolished.
What?
Money is freedom. Nothing beats money!
He lives by barter, honey!
He doesn't want anything to do with money.
"I'll trade my underpants for a frying pan"!
He hates money because he's never had any.
Know what he's thinking? Nice Ferraris...
Everyone who wins the Lottery buys a Ferrari.
What d'you want, honey?
Want him to go home without signing the waiver?
Of course not, poor Paddy.
The bailiffs are going to clean us out.
Excuse the expression, but we're up shi...
You understand.
He must have a dream! A yacht, private jet, harem,
a round-the-world trip.
I want everything, but he must have one wish!
He doesn't! Don't you get it?
He doesn't even have TV!
- No TV? - No. Not even a TV!
- No TV... - Yes, it's amazing. Astounding.
He's almost mystical.
What's up?
I'll sleep with my daughter.
Darling...
Why ever did you tell him I was called Monique?
Well... Well, I liked Monique.
What is that?
- What are you barbecuing? - Nothing, nothing.
Those nice gypsies gave me some sardines.
Wait! You'll block the skimmers!
- Ah yes... - What a disaster!
I used the manuscript to light the fire.
Some of it has blown away.
The writer's dead: no need for it.
It was unfinished, so we don't care about it.
It's mad what crosses one's mind:
for a moment,
I thought you were a writer.
That you wrote for Dad.
What? I laid Jo's eggs,
and he just strutted about like a cockerel?
You're right, it doesn't make sense.
- No. - I feel a bit of a fool.
That doesn't make you any less of a fool.
Ask yourself this: why did Jo...
leave me all his money?
- That is the question. - Yes.
- You know, I... - Oh no!
I've enjoyed myself. I'm not fussy.
But believe me, don't worry.
Even if I am the writer,
I'll still leave you all the filthy dosh.
- Don't want that. - No.
- Washing-up. - No!
Did he tell you that?
His last brainwave? Why wake me up?
Poor Paddy...
- He had the manuscripts at home. - Shh.
Skip it! He copied them.
You're just hallucinating.
You're on a slippery slope. Shh!
Copying that would take ages.
My dear residents, please.
Like myself, you must have...
read the future residents' files.
As for me, I won't keep any secrets. I'll be voting for...
the Javels.
A young married couple, 2 children, no pets,
perfectly in line with our residence's specifications.
The other candidates aren't married,
so I eliminated them.
As for our long-term guests, I propose that we register them.
What is that noise?
What is that?
Gypsies?
Don't worry.
We'll sit over there You can go now.
Don't worry about us.
Come on!
I knew it! He can't help hamming it up!
Selfish man! Do something!
I'll be back. Excuse me.I'll be back.
Yes. Sorry. Excuse me.I'll be back.
Sorry, Lechevalier.
I'll be back!
What's going on? Who are these people?
- Friends. Don't be scared. - No.
It's nothing.
- What are they here for? - Music.
We've nothing against travellers...
But why come here?
It's fine! They're distant cousins.
"Distant cousins", too easy! Enough!
Send your bumpkin uncle back to Redneck City!
- Surprise! It's a surprise. - It's OK. It's a false alert.
Why're you so indulgent?
He's good! He has good energy!
Wait. We still need to talk
about the electric fence around the residence!
Either we have the more traditional 220V
or 380V: more of a deterrent.
This proves that we lack security personnel.
The co-op charges will increase. Agreed?
- Yes! - I agree!
Why the fuss?
He can frequent gypsies. He's free.
Why not do what you want?
Look, can't you see, he's provoking us?
He's nastiness personified!
You've lost your judgement!
Must we always be sensible?
Who says we should be sensible?
Don't you get sick of being sensible?
The gypsies were so cool!
Did Basic Man bite him?
"Basic Man" is way above all of us.
- Have you been drinking?! - No. Ah! What a good idea!
"Good idea," as Pooch Boy would say!
This is so unlike you, Paddy! What's up, Paddy?
- Stop calling me that silly name! - Calm down!
I'm Patrick. Patrick!
And you're Monique! Mo-nique!
Patrick and Monique! Pat and Momo! There!
What's a measure?
That? No.
This? No, more like this.
There! A decent measure!
Oh my God!
Shove your God up your arse!
He upset me, sweetie.
Paddy... Patrick!
Awesome! He's totally flipped.
Where's the ball-ee? There's the ball-ees.
Here's the ball-ee...
The ball-ee's coming home!
Mr Kermarec, Mr Moulinot's on the phone.
Kermarec here.
- Scaredy-cats! - He's crazy!
Wahey!
The place is empty!
First floor on the right: bathroom!
Let's go to town and wet our whistles, eh?
If he won't comply, we call the cops.
Hey, hey, hey!
No more braking. Floor it!
I can't: there's a barrier. Imagine the fuss!
What're you doing?
- No! - Smash the barrier!
Good, eh?
Raising my voice was such fun!
I haven't a penny left. Snout gobbled everything up. Look.
I've nothing left. Nothing.
Don't worry. I know where we can find some.
Pharmacist. Bit like being a grocer, eh?
Yeah, if you like. There!
Where does she keep the keys?
No more opening, closing hours: sounds good?
A life of freedom?
- A life like Jo's! - I have a family, you know.
Your life's a sterile nightmare.
Change your beliefs!
I did this to my own drugstore!
Don't think like everybody else.
I'm aghast!
The important thing is you, not other people.
Yes, me. Let's get going.
- No, no! Stop! Not him! - We just want a drink.
He'll pee in the corridor like he did 3 days ago.
- Did he? - Yes.
Hang on, you're smoking...
- Oh! No lectures. - No lectures.
As a choirboy you secretly drank communion wine.
Risk-free.
What's that?
Reinforced glass for private houses.
Oh yeah? For scaredy-cats?
You can't stay. You must leave.
Even if I could, I couldn't.
What an ugly place this is.
It's ugly and it stinks.
Yes. Tell Pat that you don't like this place!
Reinforced?
The best bars are the ones you're in
when you're in them.
No!
Bingo!
Yes?
May I come in, Mr Lechat?
Of course. Of course.
Excuse me, we went to bed very late.
And I'm not used to... Well, I mean...
I didn't expect to see you. I'll tell Albert.
Mr Moulinot is no longer here.
I dropped him at the station. He's gone home.
On the train? Hang on, I don't understand.
Wasn't he meant to be here to sign his waiver?
Don't worry. Everything's in order. He's signed.
- You seem surprised. - Because of the inheritance.
You're holding it, Mr Lechat.
Your father's accounts are empty
and his royalties blocked to recover gaming debts.
Why is my name on this page?
I'll see you again when we sign the contracts
at the publisher's.
Happy reading, Mr Lechat.
Scumbag!
Right then...
Piece of shit!
Mr Turleux, court bailiff.
- Mr Lechat? - Yes.
I'm delegated to deal with disturbances!
- You're not welcome! - OK.
Not welcome!
No, don't wee on nice Mr Lechat's car!
- Good Lord, Lechat! - Stuff being nice!
Albert!
- Albert! - Don't shout like that!
You're scaring the fish.
You're an absolute scumbag!
You wanted the inheritance: well, you got it.
I'll never act as your writer. Never!
If you refuse, you know what'll happen.
I've ruined you, but I can do worse.
What? The Cayman Islands was you?
I didn't want you to refuse my proposal.
You have no choice but to accept.
- And accept my pact. - Bastard.
You'll replace Jo Lechat.
It seems that talent is hereditary.
Scumbag.
- I want my work to live on. - Think you're a genius?
I never said that. Others have written it.
You're crazy. You're crazy. Why're you doing that?
"Jettison what's useless"!
It's too late. The publisher has a copy.
You won't escape your destiny,
a destiny I conceived.
I can be nasty too.
Albert?
Wait. Albert.
Albert. Albert?
Albert! Albert!
Albert. Albert...
Albert.
Albert. Albert.
Good God, I've killed him.
Wake up. God! This can't be real. Wake up!
- Wake up! - Stop...
Stop, you're tickling me!
You took the piss.
No. I realised that you care about me,
perhaps because I'm your only heritage.
When Jo read my first writing,
he was desperate to send it to publishers.
I wanted to write, but not be...
on display like veal in a butcher's.
I suggested that Jo sign my books instead of me.
It was a veritable blood pact.
Mother didn't even know?
Solange wouldn't've let me go.
So, you...
and Mother?
She married Jo.
The man who signed the books.
Six months on, you're born.
Jo realised you weren't his son,
he left your mother,
refused to raise you and returned to gambling.
I went travelling all over and then what?
I chose the Dordogne to help me forget Solange. That's all.
Your mother wanted you to bear a famous writer's name
rather than Moulinot.
And preferred...
to end her days in Palm Beach
rather than Berck-Plage.
My son.
Patrick Lechat - YUCK
One must be a genius
to write a book.
But today's real talent is marketing:
the ability to sell.
It's the same for films, music...
Media relations.
Come! Dad's on TV.
Hurry, he's on Poivre. It's started.
Stand there.
Within a few weeks, Yuck or A Society of Paper Tissues
has become a bestseller.
Just like your father. You're a worthy successor.
- You're a best-selling author. - Yes, that's true.
But I'm not taking any royalties.
If not you, then who is receiving them?
A nonprofit association I set up: Friends of the Truffle.
- Some guy! - No! He's special!
Are you joking?
"Truffle"? What, mushrooms?
Yes. And not even hallucinogenic ones!
I deserve no credit. In truth, as concerns the book, Yuck,
I didn't write it.
The man who shuns spite and greed
is holy indeed.
My dad's so cool!
A ghost-writer?
Nope. The real author of this book
has spent his life hiding.
In fact, Jo Lechat, that other best-selling author,
was just a signature too.
I'm here to pay tribute to a true writer
who's spent 50 years not signing his books.
- Not you or your father. - No.
Millions have been captivated by his work,
some of it vitriolic. But he's never signed it.
- Who is he? - I can't tell you
because he has given me a new lease of life
and I will not kill him by revealing who he is.
Thank you for inviting me on to let me say this.
Mrs Lechat, what shall we do about the bill?
What would you do here?
There are no golf courses here.
I've never really been into golf.
I want to get back into painting.
With mittens?
You want people to think you're nasty.
But if you really were nasty, truly...
Unh-unh... That's enough. Ow! Bugger!
- Sorry... - That burned me, you know!
Forgive me, son. I didn't do it on purpose.
I know it wasn't on purpose!
Ah no?
No, no, no... No, I didn't do it on purpose.
- You did it on purpose. - No, I didn't.
- You did it on purpose? - No. I didn't...
- I didn't do it on purpose. - You did do it on purpose!
How can I tell you? I'm not gonna sing it!
You did it on purpose!