Incognito (2009) Movie Script
We were rockers.
Rock's an attitude.
You've got an axe, the road:
you're a rebel.
We swore we'd never join the system.
But we did join the buses.
Morning.
Tickets, please.
Inspector, grade 2, line 42.
5,567 francs a month, before tax.
The buses let Orly-Sud survive,
before the big-time.
Orly-Sud was our band.
Thomas, La Glue, and me.
Music was my life.
On drums, Mr Subtlety...
La Glue!
On bass, His "Highness", Thomas!
And I'm Lucas.
And now, one of mine.
"Soul blues"
When I sang my own stuff...
it felt good.
To me.
No-one gave a shit.
Especially Thomas.
See you on Tuesday, Lucas.
Ciao, La Glue.
Look out!
I'll mime "hope".
Not bad, eh!
What d'you say?
My cloth!
Next week?
But we do music here.
Ok, next week then.
I'll do a guitar.
Oh, sorry!
- Finished, Marion?
- Yes.
Fancy a drink?
Well...
I'm meeting my boyfriend.
I've got loads to do anyway...
all the gear!
See you!
Thanks for coming.
Shame the gig's over.
I took your bass.
Fuck!
It's that asshole dealer's fault.
Some nasty shit.
Oh, fuck!
It was hard
seeing Thomas strung out.
- You Ok?
- I'm fine!
You sure?
Leave me alone, I'm fine.
Goodbyes are supposed to be solemn.
No way.
That was the last time I saw Thomas.
But I had a new "pal".
Howdy. I'm Francis.
I was on stage.
Yes, I saw you.
So!
Mmm. Can you drop me in Vanves?
Sorry, I'm off to Montreuil.
It's not far.
It's miles.
Ok. I'll crash at your place.
You got any beer?
April 12, '97. Orly-Sud's last gig.
3 days later,
La Glue died in a bike crash.
In May,
Thomas OD'ed in a Hamburg squat.
I was 30.
Success wasn't going to happen.
A new life was beginning.
Without music.
10 years later...
I forgot my pass.
Sure. You have any ID?
Let's see!
You need nice neighbours.
Don't forget!
Tickets.
- I play the flute.
- Really! Jeeze!
Tickets, please. Thanks.
Morning. Tickets, please.
Thank you.
- Marion?
- It's on the card.
But I know you.
Lucas Chevalier.
Oh, yes.
I sang in that bar.
Right. A long time ago.
What are you up to?
I'm a rock star.
I live in L.A.
Just flown in for a gig.
- Seriously.
- OK, I lied.
I'm a ticket inspector.
A dream job.
- Watch out!
- Sorry!
Are you still with...?
Orly-Sud. No, the music's over.
- Shame, you were good.
- Thanks.
This is my stop.
Bye.
Right. Bye.
Jean-Pierre! Wait! The door!
Marion!
How about dinner sometime?
I have tons of old photos.
And I want to feed you.
Call me.
See you soon.
OK, Jean-Pierre, let's go!
I can do as I like, madam.
I'm the boss.
Little jerk!
It's Wii bowling.
I'll take you on any time.
How about
some Wii house-cleaning first.
Francis had moved in for one night.
10 years ago.
Focus, Francis. Focus!
Wii tones my body.
Get any beer?
A little beer!
- How about some briefs?
- Why?
You didn't think like:
"Oh, underpants"?
- Did you go out?
- Yes.
Put some briefs on.
Why? I'm going to take them off
in 2 hours.
No briefs, no beer.
It's in the wash.
You only have one pair?
Yeah.
You only have 1 fridge.
QET.
D... QED.
You're uptight.
About bodies.
I just want you dressed.
I've a date tomorrow. Be gone.
Oh, yes?
- I want some peace.
- Go on.
Her name's Marion.
She's cute and classy.
She has a good job.
A naked, unemployed lodger
is a turn-off.
Not her style.
No, but hang on, Ok!
I'm not unemployed.
I'm on stand-by.
Secondly, if you're ashamed of me,
just say so.
You're great. But it's a date.
So leave us alone.
And do what?
See your ex, with the stammer.
The Jay Leno lookalike.
Laetitia?
I was looking for
Orly-Sud souvenirs.
I moved Thomas' bass...
And found a blue notebook.
A notebook isn't much.
But this one...
changed my life.
Take that, Zidane!
Can you turn it down?
Excuse me for existing
while you play...
Picasso!
- You want a cake?
- No, thanks.
You're dropping crumbs everywhere!
"Dust-Buster".
Ball-buster!
Yeah, Maestro!
Go to bed.
You've had a hard day.
You're right.
I'm exhausted.
That's nice, Lucas. What is it?
You'll never guess. I found it...
And no noise before noon.
"Romeo and Juliette"! Live!
I was there!
Listen, chief,
can I get this evening off?
Music again?
No, no.
Right. No talent, no future.
- But...
- I'm kidding!
Fine. Granted!
Have fun!
Pasquier here.
It's really good.
My firm's HQ is in London.
So I'm there twice a month.
Twice a month!
You almost live there.
How do they handle your alcoholism?
They're really cool.
No wine-stains on important files.
But I do get vomit breaks.
Lucas. There's a man in the room.
- What's up?
- Not in bed yet?
It's only 10.
Where's your ex?
Laetitia?
I saw her, and we made love.
I never stay.
Marion... Francis.
My room-mate. He's going to bed.
Good evening.
A little kiss?
Very soft.
Nice. Better than usual.
Thanks. You can leave now.
So, London?
What's that?
It looks good.
- Lamb stew.
- With spring veg.
With spring veg.
- Never makes that for me.
- No!
TV dinners and burgers, maybe.
But lamb stew? Never!
Grease for Francis.
He wants something in exchange.
He's fawning.
- A stew won't buy me.
- A woman's a woman.
- I'll make it for you.
- Fine.
I'll leave you.
Enjoy.
Good night!
So you travel a lot?
Excuse me.
Could I have that little crust?
I think your friend's hungry.
Sit down!
He was hungry!
He has a good appetite.
Very bland.
Are you an inspector?
No. I'm an artist.
I can't sacrifice my integrity.
Like some.
Just for money.
- What art?
- Mime.
The art of mime.
Expressing inner life without words.
Shall I show you?
Say a word.
It's amazing.
I don't know... "Hunger"?
Another.
"Free".
That's an adjective.
A word!
Well... "Happiness".
Oh, happiness!
I'll do "hope".
The neutral mask.
Oh, right.
- I haven't started.
- Sorry.
Is that it?
Yes, that's it.
Impressive, huh?
Yes, it's...
It's... Wow.
I've never seen anything like it.
It's sad, and then it's not sad,
it's...
When the pigeon falls?
It's a dove.
It's "hope"!
"He who says nothing says the most".
Now you can mime:
"I'm going to bed now".
- Dessert?
- Nothing.
And that fruit cake?
Liar!
Pinocchio!
No, Pinocchio!
I'll get some hot water.
Have a brandy: forget everything!
- Play something!
- In that case...
...and keep the noise down!
Please, Lucas. For me.
- I don't feel like it.
- You play or I go.
- Maybe I'll play.
- Right.
It's really good.
Who wrote it? Did you?
- It's...
- An old song?
- In fact...
- Play it again.
I didn't write it.
Thomas did.
He was just helping me out.
Posthumously.
But little lies tend to grow.
And at some point,
you can't turn back.
Marion knew a guy at Sony.
He signed me up.
I recorded the 10 songs
in the notebook, and wham!
I hit the big-time!
Good evening!
Here's Luka, our guest tonight.
Luka: "Who will know?"
The "Who will know?" album
has already sold a million copies.
I found this, you can have it.
Thanks.
Not bad, a good start.
So, a diamond record.
1 million sales.
A year ago, you were unknown.
Today you're a star.
- Handling it Ok?
- Fine.
Fame is very handy.
Olympia on Friday?
Ah, Biboo.
Don't call me Biboo!
So.
Great interview. You stutter,
you stammer. Awesome street cred.
But the director'll cut it.
So what's with the new songs?
We got a serious advance.
The label deserves a taster.
I'm on it.
Ok. End of the week?
Oh, and one more thing.
You sweat, here.
Like a pig.
It's not pretty.
You mustn't sweat.
Don't forget the Olympia rehearsals.
Have fun, Biboo!
Don't call me Biboo!
I was a successful singer.
Money, privileges.
"A nice table, sir?"
"On the house, sir!"
Girls think you're handsome
and funny.
A celebrity!
Mr Pierre Palmade!
Working hard?
Not at all.
- I saw you on TV. Good!
- Thanks.
I got you 2 tickets for Olympia.
Shame. I can't make it.
I'm off for 3 days
to St-Paul-de-Vence with...
- I know them?
- Oh yes.
- Tell me!
- I can't.
- Go on!
- After, maybe.
Physically?
Unusual, but it turns me on.
Tell me who it is?
Go on!
- No telling!
- I promise.
Seriously, you swear?
On my records!
Williams!
- The Williams sisters?
- Shhh!
Who? Serena?
No.
Venus?
No.
Both of them.
Stars are on another planet.
To keep my feet on planet earth...
Shit!
I had Francis.
Hi.
Can't you park properly?
- Get any beer?
- No.
But I have a surprise.
God, it's ugly.
No, that's not it.
This is.
A sunny 2-room duplex, all paid for.
I need your room tomorrow.
You're welcome.
Can you hang this in the toilet?
Hold on!
I'm thirsty.
And you forgot the beer.
Chteau Angelus, 89!
This is priceless!
Money, money!
Even at night.
But look.
Try this.
It's called water.
It's incredible.
Very thirst-quenching.
Very mineral.
Good night.
See you tomorrow!
Water? At night?
I saw you on TV, babe.
You were amazing.
Lucas.
Francis is here.
- What are you doing?
- I like watching.
A hammer? Before you make love.
In the toolbox, maybe?
In the toolbox.
Life was good. But to go on...
I needed another blue notebook.
The uninspired tend to borrow.
But there's only one Bashung.
Catapult the athletes...
In the veils of the valley...
The caterwauling bagpipes...
A cataclysm of wails.
So I tried other styles.
Like "world music".
Save the forests...
The rivers and the seas...
Travelling down through Mexico...
Like Che Guevara, yo soy loco.
- Guacamole!
- Moussaka!
- Guacamole!
- Moussaka!
- Fajitas!
- Moussaka!
- Guacamole!
- Tarama!
Even new French music.
I bust my bike...
on the way to the flea-market...
...with Charlotte.
Pathetic! It sucks!
It's hard, composing.
The Gainsbourgs and Aznavours...
have done it all.
Love, death, the universe!
What's left? Acne? Electric blinds?
We've got a problem, Lucas.
My shower does Arctic or boiling.
I'm not a lobster.
Don't forget,
I need your room today.
- And briefs!
- I like it!
It's funny: a man with a boy's bits.
When I get back, you're gone. Ok?
Here, for food. Expenses.
Like a whore.
Hey! I got you a flat!
You'll see me!
A bachelor pad!
Whenever you want!
You, Marion and a baby
is impossible.
We need room.
It's Ok, if it's quiet.
You're not sleeping with a baby.
And you smoke.
You prefer your child!
A complete stranger!
And we go way back!
You've changed.
You're a big-head!
It's true!
Mega-big.
Have a good trip.
Bring me back some Guinness.
I'm not bringing beer back!
You've changed too!
Your feet please, love.
It makes marks...
really hard to get off.
- I'll miss you.
- And I'll miss you.
Hey! It's Luka!
- Be good while I'm gone.
- I'll be good.
Look after Mum!
Safe journey!
Love you!
Love you too!
Is it him? I don't believe it!
It's Luka!
It is him!
- Can I get a photo?
- Sure.
So cool! Thanks!
Smile!
One more!
Shit!
Thomas?
He's fine.
But I'll get him an analgesic.
Thanks.
- It's mad!
- Wild.
I thought you were... dead.
Where were you?
India. I live in Pushkar.
Ten years ago...
I was into some heavy shit
in Hamburg.
I split to India, for the dope.
Then I met someone.
She helped me kick it.
I have a daughter now.
Look.
Her name's Jalma.
It's Hindi...
for "Renaissance".
She's cute.
- So you live there?
- Yeah.
Why are you here?
Remember my Uncle Etienne?
I never saw him much.
He died.
And I'm the only family he had.
In 3 days' time...
I have to be in Etretat.
For the will.
What about you?
Here, take this.
It'll help you relax.
Thanks.
I need to talk to you.
Excuse me? Is this yours?
Yes, thanks a lot.
Only one bag?
I'm going back to India in 3 days.
- In 3 days?
- Right.
So, tell me, I'm curious...
Do you keep up with the news,
music and that, in Pushkar?
No, over there, it's...
hey, it's Pushkar!
You didn't say!
What are you up to?
It was time to tell him.
His note-book, Marion.
The stardom. Thanks to him.
I'm still on the buses.
- Excuse me, could I have...
- Sure.
Paperwork.
Truth's easy,
for the honest.
It was too much.
I had 3 days
to become a nobody again.
Mr Average,
who no one would recognise.
Incognito.
That's nice!
India! It smells spicy!
I just love spicy!
We'll take my car.
Speedy as ever!
Thanks, you're a pal.
Lovely texture.
Wow! Wages gone up, have they?
Oh, the car... it's not mine.
It belongs to a mate.
He's just lent it.
He's an actor. He's dead rich!
It's good to see you.
Feet, please.
Sorry, but my mate hates it.
He says it leaves marks.
He's not wrong, actually.
It's weird, being back.
10 years!
Dickhead! He burst my mirror!
Don't move.
I'll handle it.
Stay put!
- How's it going, asshole? Ok?
- Yeah.
It's Luka!
- Luka, the singer?
- Yes.
Unbelievable!
Just last week I saw Jean Reno!
Two stars in one week!
- Sorry!
- You're tiny!
No, average.
You're miniscule!
You think so?
But I did get your CD
for my kid's birthday.
- Yes? I'm touched.
- Honest.
The lyrics!
Brilliant, man!
I'm not just saying that.
Sorry about your mirror.
I never use it.
- For the report?
- Report?
You've got better things to do.
And anyway...
"Who will know"?
The song "Who will know"...
about the mirror?
I'm pretty clever with words myself.
Right. Thanks!
Respect, my man.
- Thanks!
- Take it easy!
No report? He was cool.
Yeah, yeah.
See you!
He took that well!
It's all changed, with Sarkozy.
People are more cool, more relaxed.
More convivial.
Who's Sarkozy?
Sarkozy!
Just a guy married to a singer.
Let's go home.
Holy cow!
This isn't yours?
Yeah, I mean no.
It's my mate's,
the guy with the car.
- He owns this, too.
- Nice for him.
5 minutes, I'll see if it's Ok.
I don't want to impose!
I'll just go to a hotel.
No way.
Not a good idea.
Oh, it's you, Lucas.
I'm leaving...
Lucas...
my friend.
I've been thinking, Francis.
You can stay.
- Remorse, is that it?
- Yeah, I'm remorseful.
I need you. For a role.
For a role?
What role?
A mate's coming, for 3 days.
I don't like it.
Watch out for the leaches.
They smell success.
I'm Mr loyalty.
It's Thomas, from India.
My old bassist.
He mustn't know
I'm a successful singer.
Grab the award.
No signs of fame.
I don't like it!
We have to be careful.
He gets violently jealous.
I don't like it!
I don't like it, Lucas!
So, I'm still a ticket inspector.
Ok.
The house is yours.
Mine? Well, thanks.
No thanks. We're pretending...
that it's yours.
Ah! Ok. Right. Yes.
The car's yours too.
The Mercedes! I'm speechless!
Thanks! It's great!
It's not great!
You don't get it!
You're the pretend owner!
You act the owner.
You're a famous, rich actor.
I'd prefer another role.
A resistance agent.
Protecting his network.
Attacking the Nazis.
No.
No, no. You're right.
A young nurse.
Hopelessly in love with her boss.
A tropical surgeon.
Something gritty.
No, no, no! You own this house.
That's all.
All right.
I want your room!
Yeah, if you like.
Go, go, go!
What kind of owner do you want?
A gentleman farmer type?
Or nouveau riche, like you?
An owner: keep it simple.
I have it!
I have it! I have it!
And I adore improv!
A cheap flight to London,
then Eurostar.
It's so quick.
Hello.
Francis, my friend Thomas.
Hello.
Francis owns this house.
And the Mercedes.
Welcome!
Thanks very much.
My pleasure.
It's a really nice house.
A domicile of this ilk
can be a wearisome burden.
The taxes, the rates...
the pesky termites.
Land-owning these days
is no sinecure.
I can imagine.
The garden must be hard work.
It's beautiful.
Greenery soothes the soul.
Thomas, old chap.
Violence is never the answer.
Never.
Right, absolutely.
- May I wash?
- Of course.
Wash away! Towels await you...
in the towelry.
What's your game?
- I'm pinching an apple!
- Pinch away!
They're from the orchard. Exquisite!
Fuck! Keep it simple!
And the scarf, and the limp?
It's way over the top!
- I'm a bad actor?
- Fuck!
Listen.
I have my vision.
If my interpretation - gratis -
is not to your liking, I'm out.
Find another actor.
No, Francis.
You're a great actor.
But be a tad more natural.
More natural?
As you are with me.
Yes... very interesting!
You didn't piss in the sink?
What? No. But I need a leak.
The crapper's this way. Follow me.
Stop limping!
It's this way.
Right then, you know how to do it.
- What's that?
- Nails.
- Nails?
- For your gold record.
I forgot it!
He'll see it!
Depends if it's number 1, 2 or 3.
If he's sitting down, I'm dead.
Don't shit!
Wee-wee too.
You don't walk out backwards.
Obviously, he'll turn round.
You're screwed!
Just like old times!
So you were at the station,
'cos you flew to London?
Then Eurostar?
Handy.
Yes, it's handy.
- Your room.
- I'll get my bag.
The toilet's free.
But I don't need to go.
Yes, you do!
Right. Now you mention it,
I'm really tempted.
He's nice, but a bit weird, no?
Oh, no.
Lucas!
I can't manage!
Have you got any pliers?
This way.
Lucas, fetch us some wine, will you?
There's a bottle
of Chteau Angelus '89.
A Cahors might be better.
No. I want the Chteau Angelus.
It's in the kitchen.
- Can I smoke?
- But of course.
I smoke myself.
I can't find it!
Top left, head height!
Pure nectar!
Cahors indeed!
He knows nothing.
It's great. I never drink good wine.
- Taste it.
- Not thirsty.
I'll get dinner.
So, you're an actor.
A thespian.
Bring us a little dried sausage,
Lucas.
And pistachios.
You work in film?
Theatre.
I love the smell of the boards.
I was in "The Fence".
In Le Mans.
Sorry.
By Jean Hurtie, a masterpiece.
I played the lock-keeper.
A most powerful text.
Harsh, but just.
About major issues.
Demanding for the audience.
But we had problems.
Subsidies...
politics, the regional council.
We were a threat.
The provinces...
So... provincial.
So I decided to go it alone.
Free.
- Alone!
- Good for you.
Thanks.
It's not going to slice itself.
Shall I open the pistachios?
No, why?
I'm blending ancient mime...
with modern stand-up.
- Really?
- Yes.
I shall succeed one day.
As Proust said:
"After unemployment, employment".
Francis...
I need you in the kitchen.
He can't cope without me!
Unemployment?
You're rich! You make movies!
Oh, shit!
What was I in?
Improvise, dammit! Improvise!
Yes... I have it!
I have it!
Don't over-cook it!
Not like in The Great Escape.
A lovely shoot!
How old are you?
He played a Nazi baby.
But let's not talk shop.
Ok, Francis?
You don't eat the shells?
No!
Your mate Francis is...
- What?
- He does drugs?
Lots.
I thought so.
But then, I can't talk.
I'm no angel there.
Nobody's perfect.
- Good night.
- Good night. Thanks.
By the way...
I'll be back after work.
We can hang out.
I'm going into Paris tomorrow.
Paris? There's not a lot to see.
We're really better off here.
Good night, then.
- It's Lucas.
- Biboo!
Are the new songs ready?
Yeah. And rehearsal at 8 tomorrow.
8 in the morning?
Yes. I'm writing later.
I work best after lunch.
See you at 8.
Biboo!
The shower's knackered!
I'm boiled!
I told you this morning!
Your cigarette!
What's behind your head?
- A pillow.
- Right.
Take advantage!
It's wet!
You used my toothbrush!
Actors studio.
Actors studio!
Take mine.
I'll take this one.
What now?
It's good being rich.
Are you coping?
Yeah.
Sort of, yeah.
How do.
You're not asleep?
Jet-lag. It's the afternoon for me.
- Off to work?
- Yes.
I'll come. Chief still there?
Pasquier? Yes.
- What day is it?
- Tuesday.
Damn, I forgot.
I'm not working today.
The union got us Tuesdays off.
- I'm so forgetful!
- Right.
Too bad. Another day.
Another day is good.
Let's go into Paris.
Paris? You're obsessed!
I couldn't be recognised.
The problem with fame,
is that people know you.
- Can I get a photo?
- Sure.
That's it.
Thanks.
He's daft!
Luka!
Oh no! An ex.
An ex?
You're Luka!
Kinda vintage!
Pray tell!
Thomas wasn't stupid.
He was bound to suspect.
Paris was one big trap.
Then I had a brainwave.
"Gronvieux".
We have to go home.
For a huge surprise.
What is it?
It's amazing, you'll see.
A big, big surprise.
- Go on!
- No.
- Tell me.
- Later.
He'll be here.
He's an artist.
When you have half his talent.
Stop it with the sticks!
You're being paid!
Huh? The new Beatles!
Right!
Paid to do fuck all!
- Francis?
- Here!
- The keys. And lose the T-shirt!
- Shit!
The keys?
I'm going for a spin.
Take the Subaru.
Hiya, Francis.
Hi Thomas. Hot, huh?
Yeah. Can I get a drink?
Sure, go ahead.
- Give me the Merc.
- No.
We have a long drive.
It's a surprise for Thomas.
Lend me the Mercedes,
and you take my Subaru.
No.
You were a bit heavy.
The guy gives you room and board.
Money can't buy respect!
Oh, fuck, no!
It's a no-smoking 500CL.
A no-garbage-eating 500CL.
Ketchup on the leather seats!
- Wasn't me.
- Not you?
Must have been you.
Oh no. It was not me.
I don't dribble ketchup.
No drinks, no ice-cream, no food.
Nothing gooey! Ok?
What was that?
Take the Subaru for picnics!
Fondue, BBQ, but not in my car!
I think I'd better tell Thomas.
That you're rich and famous.
Have a good spin.
But be careful.
And no phones. It's dangerous.
No phones.
No phones.
Hello?
What did I just say?
But I knew it was you.
So what? No phones! Turn it off!
- What was that?
- I'm not hurt! I'm fine!
Francis?
It was a simple plan:
to isolate Thomas.
Gronvieux was the perfect place.
You don't know Gronvieux?
Think of Ibiza.
Gronvieux is exactly...
the opposite.
Where's my surprise?
There!
Ok.
Don't you remember?
My Granny Godzilla's place.
We came here with the band!
Oh, damn!
I thought you'd be pleased.
No, but it's great!
It was a gas.
You had some hot weed.
Right.
Godzilla caught me.
I hid it somewhere.
It'll be a blast!
Walks, picking mushrooms,
milking cows.
Great. A big change from India.
Cool!
It's medieval here.
- It's Lucas.
- Where are you?
What about rehearsals?
I'm at home, in bed, with flu.
You're lying.
I love you, Biboo.
But don't lie.
The doctor's at the door!
Alright! I'm coming!!
I'll call back!
Hey, babe! At last!
Sorry, it's just the...
the rehearsals.
Are you Ok?
What's that?
Where are you?
The band's messing about.
Ok, guys, cut out the sound effects!
I've got to go. Love you!
Hey!
Lucas!
We're saved
So?
How's the ganja?
Instant karma!
But then...
it's like wine.
It ages well.
I feel no effect at all.
Really?
Are you sure?
I need to cut some wood!
Yes! Chop-chop!
Cut some wood!
Fuck!
Too stoned!
God you're white!
It's dazzling!
Are you an albino!
Some kindling first.
One.
Two.
Hang on.
Little bastard!
- Mosquitoes!
- Don't move! Careful.
It's there. Behind you.
Kill it! Hit me!
Fucker's gone.
Right, we're in for a feast!
What do we have here?
Not bad, eh?
It's blue. Let's go out.
Has India softened you up?
You're right. Restaurant it is.
No, but he's had a champion season.
He shot 2 cows and a donkey!
Yeah? Well give me a shot,
If you can.
Evening.
Have you got a table for 2?
- 2 for dinner.
- Yes.
You'll be fine there.
Great. Thanks a lot.
Excuse me.
Just treat me quite normally.
And I insist that you make me pay.
Oh, right. Ok.
I'll try and remember.
Hey, fellas!
This bloke insists I make him pay!
Unbelievable!
Calvados, please.
But make me pay!
What's the big laugh?
Some local yarn.
A wild game story,
about a moorhen...
and a beaver.
What's the joke?
You have to be local. Forget it.
I'm thirsty.
- Wine?
- In vast quantities.
A bottle of wine?
Empty!
Same again, barman!
Very nice!
Excellent!
The house Calvados!
And it's on me?
You get it?
Good of you.
A good, good friend...
Is the best thing in the world...
Cos a good, good friend...
is more faithful than a girl...
hand in hand...
You've got a good voice, pal!
Human body pile!
- Are you sure you can drive?
- Sure.
- Mind the step!
- Got it.
Excuse me.
You're not too pissed?
Where's the wheel?
Who are you?
Ouarrggh...
Ok.
No more Calvados!
We drink what there is.
He's giving me the creeps!
There's some sludge.
What is this?
Sludge liqueur.
Oh, fuck.
No way!
You mustn't.
You can't eat that!
Not good.
Not a good idea.
Oh no, you can't!
Thomas.
Poor Thomas.
Sleep well?
No. What did we do last night?
You don't remember?
It's a blank.
Nothing at all?
Oh, yes. Ravioli.
Shall we go back to Paris now?
Don't be daft. The sun's out.
You're right. This sucks.
Paris it is.
Shower and go!
Come on guys!
- Please!
- It's our job!
A scoop, and you go?
Go on then.
Palmade, the Williams
at St-Paul-de-Vence.
And publish nothing!
The boyfriend shots
have already gone.
Boyfriend?
- Are you set?
- Yes.
I'm thirsty!
Shit, it's hot!
Lumberjack Love!
Back to square one.
48 hours to remain incognito.
After that, it was over.
India for Thomas. Olympia for me.
Oh, fuck!
- Evening.
- Alright?
Have a nice time, boys?
We got arse-holed.
You don't say.
My car!
It's your fault. When you phoned.
I fixed it, like new.
Like new? It's orange!
Yes, but new orange.
Excuse me.
A loo with a door?
It's because of the work.
- Down the hall.
- Thanks.
Where's the door?
The award!
I had no pliers.
I hid the door in your office.
And locked it.
What's up with you?
Nothing.
We're pals. And I'm open...
perhaps not to everything.
What?
Spare me. Please.
Luka's lumberjack love!
Caught with your pants down.
- I suspected it.
- What?
Actors are extremely observant.
Like hawks.
It's hard on Marion.
Marion?
Very hard. Being pregnant and all.
Who's pregnant?
His mother.
Fancy a beer, Thomas?
Milk? Herbal tea?
Beer's fine.
The binge is on me tonight.
Any ideas?
Everywhere's closed.
The Senso is good on Wednesdays.
Sounds good.
It's straight.
Let's stay in. Play some music.
Watch a bit of telly.
Look! Star Wars is on.
I've never seen it.
You've seen it 20 times!
No, I haven't.
You've never seen Star Wars?
Never.
Everyone's seen it. Even in China.
India.
Everyone, maybe. But not me.
You've got the DVD.
I lost it.
We have the DVD.
You liar, Dumbo!
I swear!
I'll record it.
Have fun, boys!
Come with us.
No. You have an intimate soire.
I'm seeing Geraldine.
A woman.
She wants to learn mime.
I'm her coach.
Forget it. I look like a tramp.
Right. Let's go.
Luka!
That woman wants you.
Must be a mistake.
- They know you here.
- I don't think so.
- Hi, Luka.
- Hello.
Madam.
Nice welcome!
France is making progress.
No kidding.
It's on the house.
Serious progress.
All the girls are ogling you.
I don't exist!
- I'm not bad.
- Well...
- I'm not...
- Mmm.
Hello.
Good evening.
Talk to my friend. He's from India.
A land of mystery.
- So, India?
- 10 years now.
You're so lucky.
I just love sushi.
Yeah, sushi's good.
Where are you from?
Germany.
Oh, I love moussaka!
Luka.
Pierre!
You're not on holiday?
I had to abandon you-know-who.
The paparazzi were everywhere.
- Serena went postal!
- Shit!
If I get the bastard!
The Vojkovics are on it.
Yugos.
- He's dead.
- Yugos?
Scuse me. Kevin!
You know Palmade?
Yeah, through work.
He takes the bus. A lot.
Never the metro. Always the bus.
Funny, huh?
It helps with his sketches.
So we ended up pals.
Palmade takes the bus?
Yes. The 42. I'm off to the loo.
I'll be back.
- Flu's better then?
- Yes.
Better, yes. Much better.
How are you?
- How am I?
- Well, yeah.
- Me? How am I?
- Yes.
How the fuck do you think I am?
No rehearsal. No demos.
And meanwhile...
you chop wood with some guy.
No sweat. A new audience.
And I'm glad you're finally out.
But let me remind you.
On Friday, you're playing Olympia!
Olympia! Venue of legends!
Jacques Brel!
Edith Piaf! La Vie en Rose!
Tomorrow. 11 sharp.
Ok?
Tomorrow.
11 o'clock.
So you're a pal of Luka's?
From a band. Ages ago.
You see him a lot?
Quite often. I'm a big fan.
He has his own style. He'll go far.
- Workwise?
- Yeah.
A huge success.
He's a natural.
Let's go, Thomas.
Work tomorrow.
See you on the 42, Pierre!
Alright! I'm coming.
See you!
You said where?
What's your real job?
"Real"? You know...
I'm an inspector. On the buses.
Right.
Yeah. Right.
You know what?
I'll come with you tomorrow.
Great. Super. Good idea!
We'll go together. Terrific.
- At 6!
- Ok.
Fine. You'll come with me.
Partners again. Me and you.
Or... we could see a film!
No.
My body is mine! Let go!
My body is mine!
The office key?
- What?
- Where's the key?
When you hid the door.
- Yes.
- The key?
- Under the door.
- The office door?
Yes.
You put the key under the door?
To the office.
You're a heavy burden, Francis.
What do you want?
You want to mime?
Neutral mask.
The door.
Jim Morrison.
I'll kill you!
- You want it open?
- Yes!
Say it in words!
It's obvious!
Just don't try to do
what you can't do!
- Here goes.
- Paperclip?
Star Wars.
The one where he opens the door
with his foot.
The noise!
Ze key!
There you go.
It's all in the heel action.
I need a beer.
Fuck me!
Holy cow!
So let's get to work.
I'm an inspector,
so I'm going to inspect!
Morning. Tickets, please.
It's Luka.
- You're Luka.
- No big deal.
Is it for Candid Camera?
The camera's in my bag.
- Can I kiss you?
- No, no.
It's the new PR policy.
Kissing the passengers.
Exactly.
Enjoy the ride.
Good morning.
Biboo, we've got Olympia.
Where are you?
If you want to screw up your career,
feel free!
I don't care!
But have you thought about me?
Where are you,
you faggot?
What's this? What is it?
It's sticky!
- Maybe I'll go to the FNAC.
- No, no. Not the FNAC!
It's a good music store!
No, the FNAC's not good at all!
- Computers for me.
- Good idea.
You coming?
- No, I'll just hang out.
- Ok.
A store card, sir?
No.
Shame.
That's 3,657 euros 6O, please.
Hello.
You have a nice house.
We'll start with some exercises.
"House-exploring" workshop.
Shit!
Don't stay there.
It's a grown-up thing.
Go away!
All right?
It's tomorrow, your meeting,
in Etretat?
Yes. Then I fly to Bombay at 7pm.
Gonna be tight.
Let's go today.
A seafood dinner...
I'm listening.
Then the airport.
Great.
I'll ask for the Mercedes.
I'm sure he'll agree.
Not a sound, Geraldine.
This is mime.
This is Geraldine.
My pupil.
"Jungle Book" workshop.
She's Balou, the chimp.
The Merc keys, please.
Where are you going?
Etretat.
You and Tommy? Together?
Chabadabada.
Chabadabada?
You've never taken me
to the seaside.
I guess I'd have to
bend over backwards!
I'm just driving Thomas.
To see a lawyer.
Don't get worked up.
You're consenting adults.
Don't look at her.
Don't stare.
Keep calm.
She loves shiny things.
Hi, Thomas.
Hello, Francis.
Have fun!
- Thanks.
- Fill the tank.
I can't pay all the time.
He's right.
You do take advantage.
It's a nice house.
But the decor sucks.
I think it's classy.
- Restrained.
- Leave it out!
It's a Texas lottery-winner's dream!
I disagree.
It's not India:
Vishnus and cows.
- Don't get shirty.
- I'm not.
I know if I'm shirty
and I'm not.
If you had any taste,
you'd recognise good taste.
You're getting shirty.
A little.
- Cool, being a gull.
- Yeah.
Maybe. Who cares.
I was wondering?
Yes?
Why did you give up music?
It was your life.
Shit happens.
You gotta eat.
I'm going to inherit
a nice pile of dosh.
I'll fund an album.
No. Thanks, but no.
We're mates!
Even better!
I'll stay, and be your manager!
- Stay?
- What do you say?
My only way out.
No witnesses. Except the gulls.
And gulls don't snitch to cops.
Are you Ok?
No, I'm not.
Must be the oysters.
I'm off back to the hotel.
It's magic.
Pure magic, Geraldine.
You're the best toad ever!
Thomas,
I've been lying.
To you. To my fans.
You can have it all.
I'm going back to the buses.
I hope you can forgive me.
It's Lucas.
Listen. Call Alexandra.
Cancel Olympia.
I daren't call her.
I'll explain later.
I'll go to the baker's.
Sleep, my pretty toad.
Lucas!
I was just thinking about you!
You're coming back?
Anytime.
You're still on unpaid leave.
Fine. See you later.
Thanks. Bye.
Sweetheart! It's me!
- Who are you?
- The wife.
The dumb, unexpected wife.
I didn't know he was married!
I was just the toad!
Sign here: "resumption of work".
But I don't understand?
- I'll explain one day.
- Fine.
I've put you on the 42.
Have a good day.
The ambulance is coming.
My love, it's me.
Morning.
She's my friend's wife. Not mine.
I hardly know her.
Lucas? It's Francis.
Listen...
Your machine's buzzing.
Lucas, listen.
Call me back.
It's sort of urgent.
Very.
It interferes.
It's annoying, the buzzing!
A musical about seafood?
I can't say I'm keen.
Come in! It's open.
I'll call you back.
A ghost!
- All right?
- Fine!
- Long time.
- Yes.
Are you back too?
No. I'm looking for Lucas.
Have you broken up?
What's that?
And between colleagues!
What's this bullshit?
- Your Lucas is on the 42.
- The 42?
I gotta run. But I'll be back.
- Thanks.
- Ciao.
Oh no!
Look where you're going!
You've broken my neck!
Tickets, please.
Lucas!
Pasquier told me.
What can I say?
Let me do my job.
So you're a star!
It's fantastic!
Drop it.
You dumb fuck!
Why didn't you tell me
at the station?
Tickets, please.
Were you scared?
That I'd want money?
Or a job?
No, but... stealing songs.
Stealing?
- Your songs. The notebook.
- What?
You can have it back.
Tickets, please.
That's not my writing.
It's La Glue's.
Not my songs!
- La Glue!
- Yes!
Pasquier says
your wife's given birth!
- A wife?
- Yeah.
- And a baby too.
- A baby?
- A word?
- Marion!
Room 307.
See? The husband.
I wasn't lying.
A mime never lies.
She's smiling!
It's brilliant!
I'll put her down.
- Like this?
- Yes.
The truth is...
Francis told me about the girl.
What girl?
- Geraldine. The toad.
- The toad?
But what's the costume?
It's complicated.
- It's the songs.
- What?
I didn't write them.
I should have told you.
Ages ago.
But I chickened out.
I was afraid... of losing you.
So what?
It's not your songs I love.
I don't like them all.
I don't know about songs.
But you make great babies.
Isn't she beautiful?
Lucas? There's...
Francis?
- Come in.
- Lucas!
I must tell you something.
Look.
Remember me? Long time no see.
- Congrats.
- Thanks.
My daughter!
Too cute.
A bit red, isn't she?
- No she's not!
- She is.
About Olympia, tonight.
I forgot to call Alex.
You didn't cancel?
- Don't care.
- Olympia, tonight?
It is a great venue.
Yes but no.
- You'd be insane to cancel!
- But the songs!
Ask La Glue's parents.
No. My mind's made up.
Please.
- Mad!
- No is no.
We'll go and see his parents!
Please!
Sorry, but I gave birth 2 hours ago.
We'd like to rest.
Sorry. I'll come back.
Wait for me.
- Francis!
- She is very red.
- Need anything?
- Yes.
- What?
- Go and play Olympia.
All right.
Just for you.
And her, too.
Lose the uniform!
Yes, that's Sebastien's.
I've been singing them.
I need your permission to continue.
Of course you have it.
He would have been thrilled.
The royalties will go to you.
The money doesn't matter.
Can you sing us one?
I think only of you...
It's not true,
but it's a beautiful deceit...
I'll never leave,
don't believe me...
It's just a lie, so sweet...
I'll love you always,
but not in your ways...
though I promised just like you...
What does it matter, anyway?
It doesn't matter what we say...
It's all just pretty, pretty lies...
And a melody...
that flies away...
There's something you should see.
The police, the hospitals!
The morgue!
Do I have to check the bus depots!
All right! You win!
There!
Thank you.
Thanks.
It's crazy.
Why didn't La Glue, Sebastien,
ever sing us his songs?
He's a genius.
He was shy.
And he didn't like his voice.
But it was very pretty.
Hey guys!
I've written a song.
You wanna hear it?
We're working here!
Same again, please!
- Yes. A pretty voice.
- Very.
Here, take them.
No use to me.
Well...
There you go.
Your next album.
I can't.
The notebooks weren't mine.
And I'd decided.
I had to continue on my own.
Without La Glue.
You never know.
Good.
A kiss.
Where is the bastard?
- Poissy.
- What for?
He just said "Poissy".
Poissy, my arse!
It's him.
Yes, Lucas.
Alex is a bit cross.
She's red too.
It's not pretty.
Where the fuck?
Bollocks to Poissy!
What do I do?
2,000 punters,
and jack-shit on stage!
I'll tell them.
What the fuck?
- He's great.
- Who are you?
I'm gonna watch.
Good evening.
I'm not Luka.
Luka's in Poissy.
I'm Francis.
Maybe you know my face.
I was in The Fence
by Jean Hurtie, in Le Mans.
Get a move on!
Tickets, please.
Luka's on his way.
You must be nice to him.
He's had a very rough day.
Has your pal got an agent?
Why? Do you know one?
His wife was mad.
Because of the toad, my girl.
So she had a baby.
A little girl.
Wrinkled and red.
A skinned rabbit!
- He's good.
- Red as the curtains!
I think Luka's here!
And now, ladies and gentlemen!
- Let it rip!
- Thanks, my man!
Thanks, Francis.
Rock's an attitude.
You've got an axe, the road:
you're a rebel.
We swore we'd never join the system.
But we did join the buses.
Morning.
Tickets, please.
Inspector, grade 2, line 42.
5,567 francs a month, before tax.
The buses let Orly-Sud survive,
before the big-time.
Orly-Sud was our band.
Thomas, La Glue, and me.
Music was my life.
On drums, Mr Subtlety...
La Glue!
On bass, His "Highness", Thomas!
And I'm Lucas.
And now, one of mine.
"Soul blues"
When I sang my own stuff...
it felt good.
To me.
No-one gave a shit.
Especially Thomas.
See you on Tuesday, Lucas.
Ciao, La Glue.
Look out!
I'll mime "hope".
Not bad, eh!
What d'you say?
My cloth!
Next week?
But we do music here.
Ok, next week then.
I'll do a guitar.
Oh, sorry!
- Finished, Marion?
- Yes.
Fancy a drink?
Well...
I'm meeting my boyfriend.
I've got loads to do anyway...
all the gear!
See you!
Thanks for coming.
Shame the gig's over.
I took your bass.
Fuck!
It's that asshole dealer's fault.
Some nasty shit.
Oh, fuck!
It was hard
seeing Thomas strung out.
- You Ok?
- I'm fine!
You sure?
Leave me alone, I'm fine.
Goodbyes are supposed to be solemn.
No way.
That was the last time I saw Thomas.
But I had a new "pal".
Howdy. I'm Francis.
I was on stage.
Yes, I saw you.
So!
Mmm. Can you drop me in Vanves?
Sorry, I'm off to Montreuil.
It's not far.
It's miles.
Ok. I'll crash at your place.
You got any beer?
April 12, '97. Orly-Sud's last gig.
3 days later,
La Glue died in a bike crash.
In May,
Thomas OD'ed in a Hamburg squat.
I was 30.
Success wasn't going to happen.
A new life was beginning.
Without music.
10 years later...
I forgot my pass.
Sure. You have any ID?
Let's see!
You need nice neighbours.
Don't forget!
Tickets.
- I play the flute.
- Really! Jeeze!
Tickets, please. Thanks.
Morning. Tickets, please.
Thank you.
- Marion?
- It's on the card.
But I know you.
Lucas Chevalier.
Oh, yes.
I sang in that bar.
Right. A long time ago.
What are you up to?
I'm a rock star.
I live in L.A.
Just flown in for a gig.
- Seriously.
- OK, I lied.
I'm a ticket inspector.
A dream job.
- Watch out!
- Sorry!
Are you still with...?
Orly-Sud. No, the music's over.
- Shame, you were good.
- Thanks.
This is my stop.
Bye.
Right. Bye.
Jean-Pierre! Wait! The door!
Marion!
How about dinner sometime?
I have tons of old photos.
And I want to feed you.
Call me.
See you soon.
OK, Jean-Pierre, let's go!
I can do as I like, madam.
I'm the boss.
Little jerk!
It's Wii bowling.
I'll take you on any time.
How about
some Wii house-cleaning first.
Francis had moved in for one night.
10 years ago.
Focus, Francis. Focus!
Wii tones my body.
Get any beer?
A little beer!
- How about some briefs?
- Why?
You didn't think like:
"Oh, underpants"?
- Did you go out?
- Yes.
Put some briefs on.
Why? I'm going to take them off
in 2 hours.
No briefs, no beer.
It's in the wash.
You only have one pair?
Yeah.
You only have 1 fridge.
QET.
D... QED.
You're uptight.
About bodies.
I just want you dressed.
I've a date tomorrow. Be gone.
Oh, yes?
- I want some peace.
- Go on.
Her name's Marion.
She's cute and classy.
She has a good job.
A naked, unemployed lodger
is a turn-off.
Not her style.
No, but hang on, Ok!
I'm not unemployed.
I'm on stand-by.
Secondly, if you're ashamed of me,
just say so.
You're great. But it's a date.
So leave us alone.
And do what?
See your ex, with the stammer.
The Jay Leno lookalike.
Laetitia?
I was looking for
Orly-Sud souvenirs.
I moved Thomas' bass...
And found a blue notebook.
A notebook isn't much.
But this one...
changed my life.
Take that, Zidane!
Can you turn it down?
Excuse me for existing
while you play...
Picasso!
- You want a cake?
- No, thanks.
You're dropping crumbs everywhere!
"Dust-Buster".
Ball-buster!
Yeah, Maestro!
Go to bed.
You've had a hard day.
You're right.
I'm exhausted.
That's nice, Lucas. What is it?
You'll never guess. I found it...
And no noise before noon.
"Romeo and Juliette"! Live!
I was there!
Listen, chief,
can I get this evening off?
Music again?
No, no.
Right. No talent, no future.
- But...
- I'm kidding!
Fine. Granted!
Have fun!
Pasquier here.
It's really good.
My firm's HQ is in London.
So I'm there twice a month.
Twice a month!
You almost live there.
How do they handle your alcoholism?
They're really cool.
No wine-stains on important files.
But I do get vomit breaks.
Lucas. There's a man in the room.
- What's up?
- Not in bed yet?
It's only 10.
Where's your ex?
Laetitia?
I saw her, and we made love.
I never stay.
Marion... Francis.
My room-mate. He's going to bed.
Good evening.
A little kiss?
Very soft.
Nice. Better than usual.
Thanks. You can leave now.
So, London?
What's that?
It looks good.
- Lamb stew.
- With spring veg.
With spring veg.
- Never makes that for me.
- No!
TV dinners and burgers, maybe.
But lamb stew? Never!
Grease for Francis.
He wants something in exchange.
He's fawning.
- A stew won't buy me.
- A woman's a woman.
- I'll make it for you.
- Fine.
I'll leave you.
Enjoy.
Good night!
So you travel a lot?
Excuse me.
Could I have that little crust?
I think your friend's hungry.
Sit down!
He was hungry!
He has a good appetite.
Very bland.
Are you an inspector?
No. I'm an artist.
I can't sacrifice my integrity.
Like some.
Just for money.
- What art?
- Mime.
The art of mime.
Expressing inner life without words.
Shall I show you?
Say a word.
It's amazing.
I don't know... "Hunger"?
Another.
"Free".
That's an adjective.
A word!
Well... "Happiness".
Oh, happiness!
I'll do "hope".
The neutral mask.
Oh, right.
- I haven't started.
- Sorry.
Is that it?
Yes, that's it.
Impressive, huh?
Yes, it's...
It's... Wow.
I've never seen anything like it.
It's sad, and then it's not sad,
it's...
When the pigeon falls?
It's a dove.
It's "hope"!
"He who says nothing says the most".
Now you can mime:
"I'm going to bed now".
- Dessert?
- Nothing.
And that fruit cake?
Liar!
Pinocchio!
No, Pinocchio!
I'll get some hot water.
Have a brandy: forget everything!
- Play something!
- In that case...
...and keep the noise down!
Please, Lucas. For me.
- I don't feel like it.
- You play or I go.
- Maybe I'll play.
- Right.
It's really good.
Who wrote it? Did you?
- It's...
- An old song?
- In fact...
- Play it again.
I didn't write it.
Thomas did.
He was just helping me out.
Posthumously.
But little lies tend to grow.
And at some point,
you can't turn back.
Marion knew a guy at Sony.
He signed me up.
I recorded the 10 songs
in the notebook, and wham!
I hit the big-time!
Good evening!
Here's Luka, our guest tonight.
Luka: "Who will know?"
The "Who will know?" album
has already sold a million copies.
I found this, you can have it.
Thanks.
Not bad, a good start.
So, a diamond record.
1 million sales.
A year ago, you were unknown.
Today you're a star.
- Handling it Ok?
- Fine.
Fame is very handy.
Olympia on Friday?
Ah, Biboo.
Don't call me Biboo!
So.
Great interview. You stutter,
you stammer. Awesome street cred.
But the director'll cut it.
So what's with the new songs?
We got a serious advance.
The label deserves a taster.
I'm on it.
Ok. End of the week?
Oh, and one more thing.
You sweat, here.
Like a pig.
It's not pretty.
You mustn't sweat.
Don't forget the Olympia rehearsals.
Have fun, Biboo!
Don't call me Biboo!
I was a successful singer.
Money, privileges.
"A nice table, sir?"
"On the house, sir!"
Girls think you're handsome
and funny.
A celebrity!
Mr Pierre Palmade!
Working hard?
Not at all.
- I saw you on TV. Good!
- Thanks.
I got you 2 tickets for Olympia.
Shame. I can't make it.
I'm off for 3 days
to St-Paul-de-Vence with...
- I know them?
- Oh yes.
- Tell me!
- I can't.
- Go on!
- After, maybe.
Physically?
Unusual, but it turns me on.
Tell me who it is?
Go on!
- No telling!
- I promise.
Seriously, you swear?
On my records!
Williams!
- The Williams sisters?
- Shhh!
Who? Serena?
No.
Venus?
No.
Both of them.
Stars are on another planet.
To keep my feet on planet earth...
Shit!
I had Francis.
Hi.
Can't you park properly?
- Get any beer?
- No.
But I have a surprise.
God, it's ugly.
No, that's not it.
This is.
A sunny 2-room duplex, all paid for.
I need your room tomorrow.
You're welcome.
Can you hang this in the toilet?
Hold on!
I'm thirsty.
And you forgot the beer.
Chteau Angelus, 89!
This is priceless!
Money, money!
Even at night.
But look.
Try this.
It's called water.
It's incredible.
Very thirst-quenching.
Very mineral.
Good night.
See you tomorrow!
Water? At night?
I saw you on TV, babe.
You were amazing.
Lucas.
Francis is here.
- What are you doing?
- I like watching.
A hammer? Before you make love.
In the toolbox, maybe?
In the toolbox.
Life was good. But to go on...
I needed another blue notebook.
The uninspired tend to borrow.
But there's only one Bashung.
Catapult the athletes...
In the veils of the valley...
The caterwauling bagpipes...
A cataclysm of wails.
So I tried other styles.
Like "world music".
Save the forests...
The rivers and the seas...
Travelling down through Mexico...
Like Che Guevara, yo soy loco.
- Guacamole!
- Moussaka!
- Guacamole!
- Moussaka!
- Fajitas!
- Moussaka!
- Guacamole!
- Tarama!
Even new French music.
I bust my bike...
on the way to the flea-market...
...with Charlotte.
Pathetic! It sucks!
It's hard, composing.
The Gainsbourgs and Aznavours...
have done it all.
Love, death, the universe!
What's left? Acne? Electric blinds?
We've got a problem, Lucas.
My shower does Arctic or boiling.
I'm not a lobster.
Don't forget,
I need your room today.
- And briefs!
- I like it!
It's funny: a man with a boy's bits.
When I get back, you're gone. Ok?
Here, for food. Expenses.
Like a whore.
Hey! I got you a flat!
You'll see me!
A bachelor pad!
Whenever you want!
You, Marion and a baby
is impossible.
We need room.
It's Ok, if it's quiet.
You're not sleeping with a baby.
And you smoke.
You prefer your child!
A complete stranger!
And we go way back!
You've changed.
You're a big-head!
It's true!
Mega-big.
Have a good trip.
Bring me back some Guinness.
I'm not bringing beer back!
You've changed too!
Your feet please, love.
It makes marks...
really hard to get off.
- I'll miss you.
- And I'll miss you.
Hey! It's Luka!
- Be good while I'm gone.
- I'll be good.
Look after Mum!
Safe journey!
Love you!
Love you too!
Is it him? I don't believe it!
It's Luka!
It is him!
- Can I get a photo?
- Sure.
So cool! Thanks!
Smile!
One more!
Shit!
Thomas?
He's fine.
But I'll get him an analgesic.
Thanks.
- It's mad!
- Wild.
I thought you were... dead.
Where were you?
India. I live in Pushkar.
Ten years ago...
I was into some heavy shit
in Hamburg.
I split to India, for the dope.
Then I met someone.
She helped me kick it.
I have a daughter now.
Look.
Her name's Jalma.
It's Hindi...
for "Renaissance".
She's cute.
- So you live there?
- Yeah.
Why are you here?
Remember my Uncle Etienne?
I never saw him much.
He died.
And I'm the only family he had.
In 3 days' time...
I have to be in Etretat.
For the will.
What about you?
Here, take this.
It'll help you relax.
Thanks.
I need to talk to you.
Excuse me? Is this yours?
Yes, thanks a lot.
Only one bag?
I'm going back to India in 3 days.
- In 3 days?
- Right.
So, tell me, I'm curious...
Do you keep up with the news,
music and that, in Pushkar?
No, over there, it's...
hey, it's Pushkar!
You didn't say!
What are you up to?
It was time to tell him.
His note-book, Marion.
The stardom. Thanks to him.
I'm still on the buses.
- Excuse me, could I have...
- Sure.
Paperwork.
Truth's easy,
for the honest.
It was too much.
I had 3 days
to become a nobody again.
Mr Average,
who no one would recognise.
Incognito.
That's nice!
India! It smells spicy!
I just love spicy!
We'll take my car.
Speedy as ever!
Thanks, you're a pal.
Lovely texture.
Wow! Wages gone up, have they?
Oh, the car... it's not mine.
It belongs to a mate.
He's just lent it.
He's an actor. He's dead rich!
It's good to see you.
Feet, please.
Sorry, but my mate hates it.
He says it leaves marks.
He's not wrong, actually.
It's weird, being back.
10 years!
Dickhead! He burst my mirror!
Don't move.
I'll handle it.
Stay put!
- How's it going, asshole? Ok?
- Yeah.
It's Luka!
- Luka, the singer?
- Yes.
Unbelievable!
Just last week I saw Jean Reno!
Two stars in one week!
- Sorry!
- You're tiny!
No, average.
You're miniscule!
You think so?
But I did get your CD
for my kid's birthday.
- Yes? I'm touched.
- Honest.
The lyrics!
Brilliant, man!
I'm not just saying that.
Sorry about your mirror.
I never use it.
- For the report?
- Report?
You've got better things to do.
And anyway...
"Who will know"?
The song "Who will know"...
about the mirror?
I'm pretty clever with words myself.
Right. Thanks!
Respect, my man.
- Thanks!
- Take it easy!
No report? He was cool.
Yeah, yeah.
See you!
He took that well!
It's all changed, with Sarkozy.
People are more cool, more relaxed.
More convivial.
Who's Sarkozy?
Sarkozy!
Just a guy married to a singer.
Let's go home.
Holy cow!
This isn't yours?
Yeah, I mean no.
It's my mate's,
the guy with the car.
- He owns this, too.
- Nice for him.
5 minutes, I'll see if it's Ok.
I don't want to impose!
I'll just go to a hotel.
No way.
Not a good idea.
Oh, it's you, Lucas.
I'm leaving...
Lucas...
my friend.
I've been thinking, Francis.
You can stay.
- Remorse, is that it?
- Yeah, I'm remorseful.
I need you. For a role.
For a role?
What role?
A mate's coming, for 3 days.
I don't like it.
Watch out for the leaches.
They smell success.
I'm Mr loyalty.
It's Thomas, from India.
My old bassist.
He mustn't know
I'm a successful singer.
Grab the award.
No signs of fame.
I don't like it!
We have to be careful.
He gets violently jealous.
I don't like it!
I don't like it, Lucas!
So, I'm still a ticket inspector.
Ok.
The house is yours.
Mine? Well, thanks.
No thanks. We're pretending...
that it's yours.
Ah! Ok. Right. Yes.
The car's yours too.
The Mercedes! I'm speechless!
Thanks! It's great!
It's not great!
You don't get it!
You're the pretend owner!
You act the owner.
You're a famous, rich actor.
I'd prefer another role.
A resistance agent.
Protecting his network.
Attacking the Nazis.
No.
No, no. You're right.
A young nurse.
Hopelessly in love with her boss.
A tropical surgeon.
Something gritty.
No, no, no! You own this house.
That's all.
All right.
I want your room!
Yeah, if you like.
Go, go, go!
What kind of owner do you want?
A gentleman farmer type?
Or nouveau riche, like you?
An owner: keep it simple.
I have it!
I have it! I have it!
And I adore improv!
A cheap flight to London,
then Eurostar.
It's so quick.
Hello.
Francis, my friend Thomas.
Hello.
Francis owns this house.
And the Mercedes.
Welcome!
Thanks very much.
My pleasure.
It's a really nice house.
A domicile of this ilk
can be a wearisome burden.
The taxes, the rates...
the pesky termites.
Land-owning these days
is no sinecure.
I can imagine.
The garden must be hard work.
It's beautiful.
Greenery soothes the soul.
Thomas, old chap.
Violence is never the answer.
Never.
Right, absolutely.
- May I wash?
- Of course.
Wash away! Towels await you...
in the towelry.
What's your game?
- I'm pinching an apple!
- Pinch away!
They're from the orchard. Exquisite!
Fuck! Keep it simple!
And the scarf, and the limp?
It's way over the top!
- I'm a bad actor?
- Fuck!
Listen.
I have my vision.
If my interpretation - gratis -
is not to your liking, I'm out.
Find another actor.
No, Francis.
You're a great actor.
But be a tad more natural.
More natural?
As you are with me.
Yes... very interesting!
You didn't piss in the sink?
What? No. But I need a leak.
The crapper's this way. Follow me.
Stop limping!
It's this way.
Right then, you know how to do it.
- What's that?
- Nails.
- Nails?
- For your gold record.
I forgot it!
He'll see it!
Depends if it's number 1, 2 or 3.
If he's sitting down, I'm dead.
Don't shit!
Wee-wee too.
You don't walk out backwards.
Obviously, he'll turn round.
You're screwed!
Just like old times!
So you were at the station,
'cos you flew to London?
Then Eurostar?
Handy.
Yes, it's handy.
- Your room.
- I'll get my bag.
The toilet's free.
But I don't need to go.
Yes, you do!
Right. Now you mention it,
I'm really tempted.
He's nice, but a bit weird, no?
Oh, no.
Lucas!
I can't manage!
Have you got any pliers?
This way.
Lucas, fetch us some wine, will you?
There's a bottle
of Chteau Angelus '89.
A Cahors might be better.
No. I want the Chteau Angelus.
It's in the kitchen.
- Can I smoke?
- But of course.
I smoke myself.
I can't find it!
Top left, head height!
Pure nectar!
Cahors indeed!
He knows nothing.
It's great. I never drink good wine.
- Taste it.
- Not thirsty.
I'll get dinner.
So, you're an actor.
A thespian.
Bring us a little dried sausage,
Lucas.
And pistachios.
You work in film?
Theatre.
I love the smell of the boards.
I was in "The Fence".
In Le Mans.
Sorry.
By Jean Hurtie, a masterpiece.
I played the lock-keeper.
A most powerful text.
Harsh, but just.
About major issues.
Demanding for the audience.
But we had problems.
Subsidies...
politics, the regional council.
We were a threat.
The provinces...
So... provincial.
So I decided to go it alone.
Free.
- Alone!
- Good for you.
Thanks.
It's not going to slice itself.
Shall I open the pistachios?
No, why?
I'm blending ancient mime...
with modern stand-up.
- Really?
- Yes.
I shall succeed one day.
As Proust said:
"After unemployment, employment".
Francis...
I need you in the kitchen.
He can't cope without me!
Unemployment?
You're rich! You make movies!
Oh, shit!
What was I in?
Improvise, dammit! Improvise!
Yes... I have it!
I have it!
Don't over-cook it!
Not like in The Great Escape.
A lovely shoot!
How old are you?
He played a Nazi baby.
But let's not talk shop.
Ok, Francis?
You don't eat the shells?
No!
Your mate Francis is...
- What?
- He does drugs?
Lots.
I thought so.
But then, I can't talk.
I'm no angel there.
Nobody's perfect.
- Good night.
- Good night. Thanks.
By the way...
I'll be back after work.
We can hang out.
I'm going into Paris tomorrow.
Paris? There's not a lot to see.
We're really better off here.
Good night, then.
- It's Lucas.
- Biboo!
Are the new songs ready?
Yeah. And rehearsal at 8 tomorrow.
8 in the morning?
Yes. I'm writing later.
I work best after lunch.
See you at 8.
Biboo!
The shower's knackered!
I'm boiled!
I told you this morning!
Your cigarette!
What's behind your head?
- A pillow.
- Right.
Take advantage!
It's wet!
You used my toothbrush!
Actors studio.
Actors studio!
Take mine.
I'll take this one.
What now?
It's good being rich.
Are you coping?
Yeah.
Sort of, yeah.
How do.
You're not asleep?
Jet-lag. It's the afternoon for me.
- Off to work?
- Yes.
I'll come. Chief still there?
Pasquier? Yes.
- What day is it?
- Tuesday.
Damn, I forgot.
I'm not working today.
The union got us Tuesdays off.
- I'm so forgetful!
- Right.
Too bad. Another day.
Another day is good.
Let's go into Paris.
Paris? You're obsessed!
I couldn't be recognised.
The problem with fame,
is that people know you.
- Can I get a photo?
- Sure.
That's it.
Thanks.
He's daft!
Luka!
Oh no! An ex.
An ex?
You're Luka!
Kinda vintage!
Pray tell!
Thomas wasn't stupid.
He was bound to suspect.
Paris was one big trap.
Then I had a brainwave.
"Gronvieux".
We have to go home.
For a huge surprise.
What is it?
It's amazing, you'll see.
A big, big surprise.
- Go on!
- No.
- Tell me.
- Later.
He'll be here.
He's an artist.
When you have half his talent.
Stop it with the sticks!
You're being paid!
Huh? The new Beatles!
Right!
Paid to do fuck all!
- Francis?
- Here!
- The keys. And lose the T-shirt!
- Shit!
The keys?
I'm going for a spin.
Take the Subaru.
Hiya, Francis.
Hi Thomas. Hot, huh?
Yeah. Can I get a drink?
Sure, go ahead.
- Give me the Merc.
- No.
We have a long drive.
It's a surprise for Thomas.
Lend me the Mercedes,
and you take my Subaru.
No.
You were a bit heavy.
The guy gives you room and board.
Money can't buy respect!
Oh, fuck, no!
It's a no-smoking 500CL.
A no-garbage-eating 500CL.
Ketchup on the leather seats!
- Wasn't me.
- Not you?
Must have been you.
Oh no. It was not me.
I don't dribble ketchup.
No drinks, no ice-cream, no food.
Nothing gooey! Ok?
What was that?
Take the Subaru for picnics!
Fondue, BBQ, but not in my car!
I think I'd better tell Thomas.
That you're rich and famous.
Have a good spin.
But be careful.
And no phones. It's dangerous.
No phones.
No phones.
Hello?
What did I just say?
But I knew it was you.
So what? No phones! Turn it off!
- What was that?
- I'm not hurt! I'm fine!
Francis?
It was a simple plan:
to isolate Thomas.
Gronvieux was the perfect place.
You don't know Gronvieux?
Think of Ibiza.
Gronvieux is exactly...
the opposite.
Where's my surprise?
There!
Ok.
Don't you remember?
My Granny Godzilla's place.
We came here with the band!
Oh, damn!
I thought you'd be pleased.
No, but it's great!
It was a gas.
You had some hot weed.
Right.
Godzilla caught me.
I hid it somewhere.
It'll be a blast!
Walks, picking mushrooms,
milking cows.
Great. A big change from India.
Cool!
It's medieval here.
- It's Lucas.
- Where are you?
What about rehearsals?
I'm at home, in bed, with flu.
You're lying.
I love you, Biboo.
But don't lie.
The doctor's at the door!
Alright! I'm coming!!
I'll call back!
Hey, babe! At last!
Sorry, it's just the...
the rehearsals.
Are you Ok?
What's that?
Where are you?
The band's messing about.
Ok, guys, cut out the sound effects!
I've got to go. Love you!
Hey!
Lucas!
We're saved
So?
How's the ganja?
Instant karma!
But then...
it's like wine.
It ages well.
I feel no effect at all.
Really?
Are you sure?
I need to cut some wood!
Yes! Chop-chop!
Cut some wood!
Fuck!
Too stoned!
God you're white!
It's dazzling!
Are you an albino!
Some kindling first.
One.
Two.
Hang on.
Little bastard!
- Mosquitoes!
- Don't move! Careful.
It's there. Behind you.
Kill it! Hit me!
Fucker's gone.
Right, we're in for a feast!
What do we have here?
Not bad, eh?
It's blue. Let's go out.
Has India softened you up?
You're right. Restaurant it is.
No, but he's had a champion season.
He shot 2 cows and a donkey!
Yeah? Well give me a shot,
If you can.
Evening.
Have you got a table for 2?
- 2 for dinner.
- Yes.
You'll be fine there.
Great. Thanks a lot.
Excuse me.
Just treat me quite normally.
And I insist that you make me pay.
Oh, right. Ok.
I'll try and remember.
Hey, fellas!
This bloke insists I make him pay!
Unbelievable!
Calvados, please.
But make me pay!
What's the big laugh?
Some local yarn.
A wild game story,
about a moorhen...
and a beaver.
What's the joke?
You have to be local. Forget it.
I'm thirsty.
- Wine?
- In vast quantities.
A bottle of wine?
Empty!
Same again, barman!
Very nice!
Excellent!
The house Calvados!
And it's on me?
You get it?
Good of you.
A good, good friend...
Is the best thing in the world...
Cos a good, good friend...
is more faithful than a girl...
hand in hand...
You've got a good voice, pal!
Human body pile!
- Are you sure you can drive?
- Sure.
- Mind the step!
- Got it.
Excuse me.
You're not too pissed?
Where's the wheel?
Who are you?
Ouarrggh...
Ok.
No more Calvados!
We drink what there is.
He's giving me the creeps!
There's some sludge.
What is this?
Sludge liqueur.
Oh, fuck.
No way!
You mustn't.
You can't eat that!
Not good.
Not a good idea.
Oh no, you can't!
Thomas.
Poor Thomas.
Sleep well?
No. What did we do last night?
You don't remember?
It's a blank.
Nothing at all?
Oh, yes. Ravioli.
Shall we go back to Paris now?
Don't be daft. The sun's out.
You're right. This sucks.
Paris it is.
Shower and go!
Come on guys!
- Please!
- It's our job!
A scoop, and you go?
Go on then.
Palmade, the Williams
at St-Paul-de-Vence.
And publish nothing!
The boyfriend shots
have already gone.
Boyfriend?
- Are you set?
- Yes.
I'm thirsty!
Shit, it's hot!
Lumberjack Love!
Back to square one.
48 hours to remain incognito.
After that, it was over.
India for Thomas. Olympia for me.
Oh, fuck!
- Evening.
- Alright?
Have a nice time, boys?
We got arse-holed.
You don't say.
My car!
It's your fault. When you phoned.
I fixed it, like new.
Like new? It's orange!
Yes, but new orange.
Excuse me.
A loo with a door?
It's because of the work.
- Down the hall.
- Thanks.
Where's the door?
The award!
I had no pliers.
I hid the door in your office.
And locked it.
What's up with you?
Nothing.
We're pals. And I'm open...
perhaps not to everything.
What?
Spare me. Please.
Luka's lumberjack love!
Caught with your pants down.
- I suspected it.
- What?
Actors are extremely observant.
Like hawks.
It's hard on Marion.
Marion?
Very hard. Being pregnant and all.
Who's pregnant?
His mother.
Fancy a beer, Thomas?
Milk? Herbal tea?
Beer's fine.
The binge is on me tonight.
Any ideas?
Everywhere's closed.
The Senso is good on Wednesdays.
Sounds good.
It's straight.
Let's stay in. Play some music.
Watch a bit of telly.
Look! Star Wars is on.
I've never seen it.
You've seen it 20 times!
No, I haven't.
You've never seen Star Wars?
Never.
Everyone's seen it. Even in China.
India.
Everyone, maybe. But not me.
You've got the DVD.
I lost it.
We have the DVD.
You liar, Dumbo!
I swear!
I'll record it.
Have fun, boys!
Come with us.
No. You have an intimate soire.
I'm seeing Geraldine.
A woman.
She wants to learn mime.
I'm her coach.
Forget it. I look like a tramp.
Right. Let's go.
Luka!
That woman wants you.
Must be a mistake.
- They know you here.
- I don't think so.
- Hi, Luka.
- Hello.
Madam.
Nice welcome!
France is making progress.
No kidding.
It's on the house.
Serious progress.
All the girls are ogling you.
I don't exist!
- I'm not bad.
- Well...
- I'm not...
- Mmm.
Hello.
Good evening.
Talk to my friend. He's from India.
A land of mystery.
- So, India?
- 10 years now.
You're so lucky.
I just love sushi.
Yeah, sushi's good.
Where are you from?
Germany.
Oh, I love moussaka!
Luka.
Pierre!
You're not on holiday?
I had to abandon you-know-who.
The paparazzi were everywhere.
- Serena went postal!
- Shit!
If I get the bastard!
The Vojkovics are on it.
Yugos.
- He's dead.
- Yugos?
Scuse me. Kevin!
You know Palmade?
Yeah, through work.
He takes the bus. A lot.
Never the metro. Always the bus.
Funny, huh?
It helps with his sketches.
So we ended up pals.
Palmade takes the bus?
Yes. The 42. I'm off to the loo.
I'll be back.
- Flu's better then?
- Yes.
Better, yes. Much better.
How are you?
- How am I?
- Well, yeah.
- Me? How am I?
- Yes.
How the fuck do you think I am?
No rehearsal. No demos.
And meanwhile...
you chop wood with some guy.
No sweat. A new audience.
And I'm glad you're finally out.
But let me remind you.
On Friday, you're playing Olympia!
Olympia! Venue of legends!
Jacques Brel!
Edith Piaf! La Vie en Rose!
Tomorrow. 11 sharp.
Ok?
Tomorrow.
11 o'clock.
So you're a pal of Luka's?
From a band. Ages ago.
You see him a lot?
Quite often. I'm a big fan.
He has his own style. He'll go far.
- Workwise?
- Yeah.
A huge success.
He's a natural.
Let's go, Thomas.
Work tomorrow.
See you on the 42, Pierre!
Alright! I'm coming.
See you!
You said where?
What's your real job?
"Real"? You know...
I'm an inspector. On the buses.
Right.
Yeah. Right.
You know what?
I'll come with you tomorrow.
Great. Super. Good idea!
We'll go together. Terrific.
- At 6!
- Ok.
Fine. You'll come with me.
Partners again. Me and you.
Or... we could see a film!
No.
My body is mine! Let go!
My body is mine!
The office key?
- What?
- Where's the key?
When you hid the door.
- Yes.
- The key?
- Under the door.
- The office door?
Yes.
You put the key under the door?
To the office.
You're a heavy burden, Francis.
What do you want?
You want to mime?
Neutral mask.
The door.
Jim Morrison.
I'll kill you!
- You want it open?
- Yes!
Say it in words!
It's obvious!
Just don't try to do
what you can't do!
- Here goes.
- Paperclip?
Star Wars.
The one where he opens the door
with his foot.
The noise!
Ze key!
There you go.
It's all in the heel action.
I need a beer.
Fuck me!
Holy cow!
So let's get to work.
I'm an inspector,
so I'm going to inspect!
Morning. Tickets, please.
It's Luka.
- You're Luka.
- No big deal.
Is it for Candid Camera?
The camera's in my bag.
- Can I kiss you?
- No, no.
It's the new PR policy.
Kissing the passengers.
Exactly.
Enjoy the ride.
Good morning.
Biboo, we've got Olympia.
Where are you?
If you want to screw up your career,
feel free!
I don't care!
But have you thought about me?
Where are you,
you faggot?
What's this? What is it?
It's sticky!
- Maybe I'll go to the FNAC.
- No, no. Not the FNAC!
It's a good music store!
No, the FNAC's not good at all!
- Computers for me.
- Good idea.
You coming?
- No, I'll just hang out.
- Ok.
A store card, sir?
No.
Shame.
That's 3,657 euros 6O, please.
Hello.
You have a nice house.
We'll start with some exercises.
"House-exploring" workshop.
Shit!
Don't stay there.
It's a grown-up thing.
Go away!
All right?
It's tomorrow, your meeting,
in Etretat?
Yes. Then I fly to Bombay at 7pm.
Gonna be tight.
Let's go today.
A seafood dinner...
I'm listening.
Then the airport.
Great.
I'll ask for the Mercedes.
I'm sure he'll agree.
Not a sound, Geraldine.
This is mime.
This is Geraldine.
My pupil.
"Jungle Book" workshop.
She's Balou, the chimp.
The Merc keys, please.
Where are you going?
Etretat.
You and Tommy? Together?
Chabadabada.
Chabadabada?
You've never taken me
to the seaside.
I guess I'd have to
bend over backwards!
I'm just driving Thomas.
To see a lawyer.
Don't get worked up.
You're consenting adults.
Don't look at her.
Don't stare.
Keep calm.
She loves shiny things.
Hi, Thomas.
Hello, Francis.
Have fun!
- Thanks.
- Fill the tank.
I can't pay all the time.
He's right.
You do take advantage.
It's a nice house.
But the decor sucks.
I think it's classy.
- Restrained.
- Leave it out!
It's a Texas lottery-winner's dream!
I disagree.
It's not India:
Vishnus and cows.
- Don't get shirty.
- I'm not.
I know if I'm shirty
and I'm not.
If you had any taste,
you'd recognise good taste.
You're getting shirty.
A little.
- Cool, being a gull.
- Yeah.
Maybe. Who cares.
I was wondering?
Yes?
Why did you give up music?
It was your life.
Shit happens.
You gotta eat.
I'm going to inherit
a nice pile of dosh.
I'll fund an album.
No. Thanks, but no.
We're mates!
Even better!
I'll stay, and be your manager!
- Stay?
- What do you say?
My only way out.
No witnesses. Except the gulls.
And gulls don't snitch to cops.
Are you Ok?
No, I'm not.
Must be the oysters.
I'm off back to the hotel.
It's magic.
Pure magic, Geraldine.
You're the best toad ever!
Thomas,
I've been lying.
To you. To my fans.
You can have it all.
I'm going back to the buses.
I hope you can forgive me.
It's Lucas.
Listen. Call Alexandra.
Cancel Olympia.
I daren't call her.
I'll explain later.
I'll go to the baker's.
Sleep, my pretty toad.
Lucas!
I was just thinking about you!
You're coming back?
Anytime.
You're still on unpaid leave.
Fine. See you later.
Thanks. Bye.
Sweetheart! It's me!
- Who are you?
- The wife.
The dumb, unexpected wife.
I didn't know he was married!
I was just the toad!
Sign here: "resumption of work".
But I don't understand?
- I'll explain one day.
- Fine.
I've put you on the 42.
Have a good day.
The ambulance is coming.
My love, it's me.
Morning.
She's my friend's wife. Not mine.
I hardly know her.
Lucas? It's Francis.
Listen...
Your machine's buzzing.
Lucas, listen.
Call me back.
It's sort of urgent.
Very.
It interferes.
It's annoying, the buzzing!
A musical about seafood?
I can't say I'm keen.
Come in! It's open.
I'll call you back.
A ghost!
- All right?
- Fine!
- Long time.
- Yes.
Are you back too?
No. I'm looking for Lucas.
Have you broken up?
What's that?
And between colleagues!
What's this bullshit?
- Your Lucas is on the 42.
- The 42?
I gotta run. But I'll be back.
- Thanks.
- Ciao.
Oh no!
Look where you're going!
You've broken my neck!
Tickets, please.
Lucas!
Pasquier told me.
What can I say?
Let me do my job.
So you're a star!
It's fantastic!
Drop it.
You dumb fuck!
Why didn't you tell me
at the station?
Tickets, please.
Were you scared?
That I'd want money?
Or a job?
No, but... stealing songs.
Stealing?
- Your songs. The notebook.
- What?
You can have it back.
Tickets, please.
That's not my writing.
It's La Glue's.
Not my songs!
- La Glue!
- Yes!
Pasquier says
your wife's given birth!
- A wife?
- Yeah.
- And a baby too.
- A baby?
- A word?
- Marion!
Room 307.
See? The husband.
I wasn't lying.
A mime never lies.
She's smiling!
It's brilliant!
I'll put her down.
- Like this?
- Yes.
The truth is...
Francis told me about the girl.
What girl?
- Geraldine. The toad.
- The toad?
But what's the costume?
It's complicated.
- It's the songs.
- What?
I didn't write them.
I should have told you.
Ages ago.
But I chickened out.
I was afraid... of losing you.
So what?
It's not your songs I love.
I don't like them all.
I don't know about songs.
But you make great babies.
Isn't she beautiful?
Lucas? There's...
Francis?
- Come in.
- Lucas!
I must tell you something.
Look.
Remember me? Long time no see.
- Congrats.
- Thanks.
My daughter!
Too cute.
A bit red, isn't she?
- No she's not!
- She is.
About Olympia, tonight.
I forgot to call Alex.
You didn't cancel?
- Don't care.
- Olympia, tonight?
It is a great venue.
Yes but no.
- You'd be insane to cancel!
- But the songs!
Ask La Glue's parents.
No. My mind's made up.
Please.
- Mad!
- No is no.
We'll go and see his parents!
Please!
Sorry, but I gave birth 2 hours ago.
We'd like to rest.
Sorry. I'll come back.
Wait for me.
- Francis!
- She is very red.
- Need anything?
- Yes.
- What?
- Go and play Olympia.
All right.
Just for you.
And her, too.
Lose the uniform!
Yes, that's Sebastien's.
I've been singing them.
I need your permission to continue.
Of course you have it.
He would have been thrilled.
The royalties will go to you.
The money doesn't matter.
Can you sing us one?
I think only of you...
It's not true,
but it's a beautiful deceit...
I'll never leave,
don't believe me...
It's just a lie, so sweet...
I'll love you always,
but not in your ways...
though I promised just like you...
What does it matter, anyway?
It doesn't matter what we say...
It's all just pretty, pretty lies...
And a melody...
that flies away...
There's something you should see.
The police, the hospitals!
The morgue!
Do I have to check the bus depots!
All right! You win!
There!
Thank you.
Thanks.
It's crazy.
Why didn't La Glue, Sebastien,
ever sing us his songs?
He's a genius.
He was shy.
And he didn't like his voice.
But it was very pretty.
Hey guys!
I've written a song.
You wanna hear it?
We're working here!
Same again, please!
- Yes. A pretty voice.
- Very.
Here, take them.
No use to me.
Well...
There you go.
Your next album.
I can't.
The notebooks weren't mine.
And I'd decided.
I had to continue on my own.
Without La Glue.
You never know.
Good.
A kiss.
Where is the bastard?
- Poissy.
- What for?
He just said "Poissy".
Poissy, my arse!
It's him.
Yes, Lucas.
Alex is a bit cross.
She's red too.
It's not pretty.
Where the fuck?
Bollocks to Poissy!
What do I do?
2,000 punters,
and jack-shit on stage!
I'll tell them.
What the fuck?
- He's great.
- Who are you?
I'm gonna watch.
Good evening.
I'm not Luka.
Luka's in Poissy.
I'm Francis.
Maybe you know my face.
I was in The Fence
by Jean Hurtie, in Le Mans.
Get a move on!
Tickets, please.
Luka's on his way.
You must be nice to him.
He's had a very rough day.
Has your pal got an agent?
Why? Do you know one?
His wife was mad.
Because of the toad, my girl.
So she had a baby.
A little girl.
Wrinkled and red.
A skinned rabbit!
- He's good.
- Red as the curtains!
I think Luka's here!
And now, ladies and gentlemen!
- Let it rip!
- Thanks, my man!
Thanks, Francis.