The Art of Nothing (2024) Movie Script
1
THE ART OF NOTHING
Emptiness...
Yes, emptiness, again.
Tabula rasa and vita nova!
It means a clean slate and a new life.
It's Latin.
My first empty room...
Without the storage rooms.
My first empty room was Mannheim.
It was in 1989.
A huge scandal.
I have a scar here.
Can you see it?
A beer can thrown by a German critic.
That was my nada period.
It's Spanish. It means nothing.
I don't care what you think.
Then, 2009,
the retrospective in Beaubourg.
Yes, it is recognition.
You can see it that way.
Sorry?
And after that?
It's break-up and separation.
It's withdrawal from the world.
Let's not talk about it.
No, no, no!
Don't insist, old chap.
I said no.
Yes, I've dedicated
my whole life to teaching
but that's over now.
A radical change, I'm telling you!
Machond still has things to say!
Yes? What do you want?
Are you Mr Machond?
- That's me.
Removal man.
I'm sorry. Forgive me.
Right this way.
Mr Machond? Are you leaving?
Kids, what a lovely surprise!
How nice of you to come.
Yes. Nothing keeping me here.
So you're really going
to live by the sea?
Yes, the sea, the waves,
the pebble beaches.
The painters' muse.
We came to say
you were our favorite teacher.
Really?
Well, I'm...
I'm really touched.
You made us laugh so much.
- Yes, really.
Laugh?
OK. Yes.
Among the great apes,
the manifestation of fear
is sometimes mistaken
for a laughing grin.
"For beauty is nothing
but the beginning of terror."
Rainer Maria Rilke.
Yes, that's it.
A small gift, Mr Machond.
It's from everyone.
- Chocolates!
You're spoiling me.
I love chocolate.
Where are they from?
- Marcolini.
No. I meant,
from which country are they from?
I don't know.
- It's important.
Chocolate is no joke.
The chocolate from Venezuela is
not the same as the one from Ethiopia.
Take a Carpathian chocolate,
it's stronger, more aggressive,
with its little berries.
Only the Chinese can't make chocolate.
It's not part of their culture.
Never mind.
Tabula rasa. Vita nova.
Alea jacta est.
I'm off.
Well done.
Freely adapted from the novel
"La dilution de l'artiste" by Jean-Philippe Delhomme
Look.
I didn't lie.
Vita nova.
What did you say?
Of course I'll get to work.
Just give me a little time.
No, you're right.
We must not waste any time.
But I have time to unpack, don't I?
Acceptable.
Sir?
Hello.
This is private property, sir.
Does someone live there now?
- Yes.
Me.
It's written: "Private Property."
Really? So the car belongs to you?
- Yes.
Are you squatting?
- No, sir, I'm not.
I live here.
What? You bought that?
Can you live in it?
- Yes, I can.
I don't know if you were told
but you don't have a seaview.
Yes, it's the architect's choice.
Georges Mouton.
He refused the dictatorship
of the panorama. Unlike you.
Now leave.
I'm... Yes, yes.
I'm sorry.
I've been coming here for years
to practice plein air painting.
Yes.
- I'm embarrassed.
OK. You couldn't have known.
Are you a painter?
A painter...
It's a little more nuanced than that.
Yes...
But we're both painters, then.
It's more complicated than that.
A painter but...
- You can't fool me. Look at your shirt.
That changes everything!
Pierre Bagnoule, artist-painter.
I live in Le Trport.
Jean-Yves Machond.
Let's drink to it, Jean-Yves Machond!
Yes indeed!
Isn't it a bit early?
- I only have paper cups.
Shall we go to your place?
At mine? No.
- Because...
No?
- No, because...
Visiting a studio implies
a certain intimacy...
Don't worry.
We'll do it some other time.
This is no plonk, you'll see.
You know, Biloule,
you were talking about this shirt.
It's Bagnoule.
- Sorry?
Bagnoule.
- Yes, Bagnoule.
You were talking about this shirt.
- Yes.
And?
- Do you know who it belonged to?
No. Who?
Bernard Buffet.
Who had it from Henri Matisse.
Who had it from Eugne Boudin.
It's crazy.
- I assure you.
I bought it at an auction room
five years ago.
With the easel.
I just need
to find the palette now.
It's a concept.
A concept that must have cost you
an arm and leg!
Expensive...
But I fell in love with it.
Believe it or not, I know someone
who knew Bernard Buffet very well.
Really?
- Yes.
She's a friend
who's an incredible painter.
You should meet her.
Agreed?
And you should come to my place.
We're a small group of friends.
Don't you want to?
I do...
I have to see if I have time.
Jean-Yves Machond.
You don't say!
Back up, asshole!
MACHA MONIAK
BOY
Sir? How did you get in?
Through the door, naturally.
I'm here for the vernissage.
I'm a guest of Bagnoule. The painter.
It's far too early, sir.
We open in half an hour.
Right. Very well.
So I should...
- Yes.
Yes. You do that.
Thank you.
Hello.
- Hello.
Hello.
- Hello, sir.
Can I get you something?
Yes.
Do you have a list, a menu?
If you want to eat, it's too early.
No.
Just a drink.
Anything regional to recommend?
No, it's on the list.
Do you have any cocktails?
Yes, it's written here.
No, hang on...
So much to choose from!
It's quite an art
to choose a cocktail at the right time.
Fitzgerald said:
"Who cares what time it is..."
Because it's always the right time.
Because the earth turns.
Wherever you are, the earth turns.
It's always time for a drink somewhere.
What will it be?
I shall be tempted by...
a Blue Sky.
Are you sure?
- Yes.
Blue is very poetic.
Blue is the color
of truth and spirituality.
Blues music.
Blue sky.
The blue hour.
Do you have gherkins
or anything similar?
It's not the time.
- Of course.
How interesting.
Is it a local specialty?
No.
Are you an artist?
In a way...
I hope they're not from tretat.
Collecting them there is banned.
Really?
- Yes, really.
No, these are from here.
God, it's awful.
I'll leave it here.
If you need blue for your pebbles.
That was really awful.
What was in it?
It's no surprise, Macha.
Why?
- Because it's stunning!
Machond!
How are you?
You look chic!
What is this jacket?
Japanese.
- Really?
I'll introduce you
to Macha Moniak.
The artist. She's great.
Now?
- Macha.
Macha.
- Yes?
May I introduce Machond.
An angry painter.
Right?
That's what you told me.
Jean-Yves.
My name is Jean-Yves Machond.
Splendid. I haven't had a good look yet,
but it looks promising.
You're a painter?
A painter...
It's more complex.
Abstract? Figurative?
Did you see my retrospective?
In Paris.
At the Petit Palais last year.
The Petit Palais...
Quite something, isn't she?
She is the one who knew Buffet.
Buffet was born in 1923.
How old was she
when they made love?
See you later.
Do you like it?
I was wondering
if it was oil or acrylic.
I think it must be a mixture.
Ccile Fouasse de Mauprs.
I own the gallery.
- By Jove!
Nice to meet you.
- And you.
Lovely gallery.
- Isn't it?
Lovely installation.
You don't like her work?
- I didn't say that. Not at all.
It's the subject.
The subject of the female sex
in this day and age...
I feel that after Courbet
everything has been said.
Unless she wanted
to add a third degree.
Sushi?
- Yes, thank you.
A political statement?
I don't know.
I don't know.
Is it still...
a relevant topic, the...
Such an imposing female sex.
Sorry, I...
Such an imposing female sex.
I don't know if it's still...
Thank you.
And why not the female sex?
Look at Mapplethorpe's penises.
Yes.
- The penises. That man...
liked dicks.
Yes, that's true.
- So what? I like dicks, too.
So why not vulvas?
Why not vulvas?
Yes.
What's wrong with that?
- Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Nothing wrong with that.
Did you know it was mine?
It's well painted.
There's volume.
I'm joking.
You got me there!
I had my suspicions,
because you're blond and...
That one is very hairy.
It must be someone with black hair.
Black hair.
I mean darker.
Are we going to talk
about my pussy all evening?
No.
Forgive me.
I haven't introduced myself.
Jean-Yves Machond.
I know.
I recognized you.
Really?
- Yes.
By Jove!
- Yes.
I just reread
an article about you in Artung.
An old issue.
Hang on... Artung...
Yes. It's a bit dated.
It was lying around in my toilet.
I was informed by the local press,
that is Bagnoule,
that you were moving to Mers-les-Bains.
- Yes, that's right.
What did he say?
Oh, yes.
"Drop everything to recharge
and find meaning again."
Right?
Yes, that's it.
- A bit dj vu, don't you think?
Yes. Yes.
To be honest with you...
How can I put it?
I came here for a tabula rasa.
I left behind the conceptual
while remaining conceptual.
I question the motif.
But I refuse the motif, and the beauty.
In short, I'm back to painting.
Really? At your age?
You're crazy!
Why?
I'm joking! It's a joke!
- I get it!
You're too serious, Jean-Yves.
You're so serious!
- Don't be fooled. I love jokes.
Really?
- I love to laugh.
Among the great apes, the grin...
Please, no.
I've heard it a thousand times.
And no quotes from Rilke.
Please spare me.
Yes, of course.
Anyway, it's fascinating!
- It is?
It's fascinating.
Explain it to me again, but slowly.
With pleasure.
- Very slowly.
Of course.
I'll be honest.
Many people are interested in it.
But it hasn't been bought yet.
You'll need to position yourselves...
Hi.
Hi.
Sorry.
Sorry.
- Ccile, I was thinking...
If you'd like
to take a look at my work,
I have sketches of sketches in my car.
Yes. Some other time.
I'm busy now.
Gladly.
I don't usually have
a business card on me,
but as luck would have it. Here.
Great.
Give it to my assistant there, Laetitia.
There.
She's waiting for you.
Sorry, who is your assistant?
- Laetitia. She's there.
Yes. I know her.
The GAFA business is not really
mail order anymore.
Those people generate
the virtual world.
Oh, there you are!
I was looking for you!
Oh, Macha! My dear!
What are you doing?
Are you crazy?
A misunderstanding.
- I saw it.
I thought she was talking to me.
For a conceptual guy, you're funny.
Well done.
Come meet my husband.
You're data. I'm data. We're...
- Claude.
Jean-Yves Machond, an artist.
Hello. A pleasure.
- This is my husband, Dr Claude Fouasse.
He's data. We're data.
We're all data.
What is Amazon?
Well, 99 percent of their sales
is data. It's data. The rest is nothing.
- I know.
That's enough! Stop it!
You get the virtuality of things?
I take and take and take.
Why?
To invest in the bitcoin.
I'd love to visit your studio,
Jean-Yves.
Do you give tours?
By appointment only.
What are you whispering about?
He offered me a studio tour.
- Not at all.
Not at all.
Not at all?
I know those tricks.
- No.
I know the "studio tours".
You want a tour of my wife's knickers?
Stop it. You're a real pain!
What? Isn't it funny?
- No, it's not.
Wasn't it funny?
It was.
- No.
No.
- Yes, it was.
Enough of that.
This place bored the shit out of me.
Don't mind my husband.
Don't worry.
It's tragic.
Alcohol is sometimes...
- You don't drink?
In moderation.
- That doesn't surprise me.
We're having a drink at home
with Macha and friends. Want to join us?
With pleasure.
- Let's go then.
Will he be there?
- Well yes, it's his home.
Are you fucking serious?
Come on!
That idiot is right on my ass!
What an asshole!
A disabled spot, too!
Look at that!
It's crazy! This is cuckoo land!
Did you come by car?
Um... No.
Yes. I'm just a little further.
Come with us.
We'll order you a taxi
back to your car.
Very well.
Need a hand for the maneuver?
- No, I'm OK.
No?
Take a good look at this.
Fuck.
Right on my ass...
Here, a nice bump with the tow hitch!
Be careful...
You hit the car.
- No. Don't worry.
There's one driver, not two.
Fuck!
Be careful.
You tailgated him, Pilou.
- I tailgated him?
No, no!
- Yes, he blocked you and...
No!
You're twisting things!
You hit it again.
It's a collector's car.
Be careful.
Really?
We'll take good care of it then.
What are you doing?
Do me a favour, Meckton.
- It's Machond.
Look.
I'll drive forward.
Roll down your window.
Do as I say right now.
We'll drive next to the car.
And you'll grab the mirror.
Go on. Pull it off!
Grab it! Grab it!
Got it?
Honestly, Pilou!
Will you stop, Pilou?
Leave me alone.
Mind your own business.
I'm a little surprised.
I was told that German cars
are cozy.
But here, I think the saddle...
The seat is a little harsh.
Don't you think?
Look at what your artist did!
Look!
Sorry?
- Well done! Great!
Terrific!
He sat on Macha's daub!
What?
- Yeah, look!
Oh, no! Jean-Yves!
- Shit!
I'm sorry.
- Give it here.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
- I'm sorry.
I don't believe this guy!
No!
- Pilou, what the hell?
It's blasphemy.
I think it wasn't dry.
What?
- I think the canvas wasn't dry.
Can we stop?
Can you try not to sit down
because if you put paint on the seats
we'll never hear the end of it!
'Cause his car...
I'll stand like this.
- In suspension.
Sorry, Doctor,
but you can't drive.
Your wife will have to drive.
You're the one
as drunk as a skunk.
I don't think so, sir.
You are.
Did you hear me, Mrs Fouasse?
- I do not drive!
She doesn't.
Do I have the right?
Is that allowed?
Fuck, I'd like to go home!
Maybe the abbot then?
- Excuse me?
Have you been drinking?
- No.
A little cocktail. A Blue Sky.
A little curaao-based cocktail.
Please step out of the car, Abbot.
And you too.
I'm not an abbot.
He says he didn't drink
and he had curaao!
Can you come over here?
- Yes.
Step out, Doctor.
Blow without stopping for a long period.
No, without stopping.
Without stopping.
Please.
- This way, Doctor.
Sorry.
More, more, more.
OK. Thank you.
He's negative, Chief.
You're good to go.
Thank you.
- Can we go now?
I'm coming.
Sorry, Ccile.
Well done.
You took care of it like a champ!
How can I thank you?
- No need for that.
I don't feel like joining the others.
Let's go to my room.
Your room?
With pleasure.
Come in.
Lovely room space.
Do you mind taking your trousers off?
They're full of paint,
you'll get everything dirty.
Yes.
Here?
Yes.
Do you mind?
No.
I can lend you
a pair of Claude's trousers if you like.
No.
A piece of Macha.
Do you know
I loved your empty rooms?
Really?
- Yes, really.
Out of all the empty spaces,
yours was...
the emptiest.
When I first started
the empty rooms,
the first time
I exhibited an empty room,
to me, it was the peak of art.
Not just conceptual art,
but art in general.
It was something. You know?
When people saw my work
and entered that empty room,
I wanted them to be free.
Free to see
what they wanted to see.
That's what I wanted to do.
I almost bought
one of your empty rooms.
Really?
- Yes.
But Claude wasn't keen, of course.
- That's a pity.
We don't have the same tastes, he and I.
- Pilou.
And yet you have a fine abode!
A nice big empty room
would have fitted nicely here.
What a crazy boy!
Well, I'm an enthusiast,
but crazy...
Fancy a joint?
A joint? In truth, why not.
I have a question for you.
Do you think
I'm going to sleep with you?
No. What an idea!
Of course not.
Really?
I had the feeling you did.
What an idea! No!
I'm not an animal, Ccile.
Not at all?
You'll hurt my feelings.
You're playing with me.
Are you single, Jean-Yves?
Um... Yes.
Unmarried? No kids?
Straight, cisgender-binary, right?
Yes, sadly.
I was married. Divorced.
A kid I haven't seen since...
Oh, God, no!
No more sadness!
OK?
Spare me.
- OK.
I think we are alike.
I want us to be friends.
Sorry.
I wasn't expecting that.
It's very strong.
But it's good.
Yes, it's good.
We mustn't go too fast
because I'm very slow.
Ccile?
Is anything the matter?
It's not that.
Don't...
Don't pay any attention.
I'm too emotional.
It's true.
It's all a bit jumbled up.
I'm a piece of shit, Jean-Yves.
A piece of shit?
Not at all!
That's the joint talking.
Not at all, Ccile.
You're...
How can I put it?
You're wonderful.
Give me the joint.
The joint. Give it to me.
It's in your hand.
You're an exceptional woman, you hear?
Stop it, Jean-Yves.
Stop it because...
You know I opened a second gallery?
I did!
I got some old halls in Honfleur.
It's a stunning place.
It's magical.
It's huge.
I'd like you to come with me.
It's still empty.
Right. I see.
Perhaps you could advise me.
And there, perhaps, you could lay me.
With pleasure.
No! What am I saying?
It would be a pleasure to help you.
Of course,
Claude is against this project.
As usual.
- Claude. Pilou.
We have completely different tastes.
He's down-to-earth.
He doesn't understand me.
He's keen
on paintings with little boats.
You know, Ccile...
I'm an honest man.
This may seem premature to you,
but you and I,
it's love at first sight.
It happens to people...
who are open to all chances.
It's best for you to leave
before ruining it all.
Back off, naughty mouth.
How naughty!
- I don't know what came over me.
I thought for a second that you...
Well, no.
OK.
I don't feel like it.
I'm sorry, Ccile.
I behaved like a...
My phone!
Where is it?
Ccile?
- I found it!
Harold.
Where are you, big boy?
Hang on. Speak up.
What did you take?
I'll be right there.
What the hell are you doing here?
Nothing.
I thought you were a painter,
not a musician, Machond.
We're all musicians in some way.
I just think
that a lack of knowledge
offers many opportunities.
Would you say
that in music, as in painting,
you would be like a bird that sings?
You are quoting Messiaen.
You amuse me.
Excuse me.
Yes, hello?
Jean-Yves Machond.
Jean-Yves? It's me.
Ccile!
How are you?
I'm so ashamed about last night.
How did you manage?
Alone. Butt naked.
I just want my trousers back.
I feel terrible.
I could at least
have offered you something.
A drink, a soup,
a waffle, a sandwich.
It doesn't matter, Ccile.
- Or even a blowjob.
I'm sorry?
- A blowjob.
I'm a passionate woman, you know.
A what?
- Passionate.
A passionate woman!
I send you my love.
I also send...
Hello?
Ccile? Hello?
The same color
applied by two different hands
will give two different tones.
For each painter creates his own medium
as his work progresses.
Renoir said
it's what gives the painting
this hesitation, this fragility
which is so crucial.
You're an artist?
What an odd question, Macha.
We are all artists.
Wouldn't you agree?
Here's another "odd" question.
What is it?
It's expressiveness.
Oh, really?
- Yes, really.
To me, it's a hedgehog.
So?
What did you teach your students?
Which subject?
I helped them put together
grant applications.
It's the most important thing.
Tell me, what do you see?
It's a hedgehog, isn't it?
Yes. Well spotted.
Very inspiring.
Thank you.
You're welcome.
Come back anytime.
It rains every two hours here!
Well, wait here until it calms down.
You think?
- I'm sure.
I love to paint when it rains.
There's nothing more comforting.
Really?
Why did you stop conceptual art?
I never stopped.
No, I know.
But, well...
I heard you were famous.
Then from one day to the next,
you stopped exhibiting.
Why?
Such is life, Bagnoule.
I had a difficult break-up.
Do you know I have a kid?
- Really?
Yes, a little girl.
Well, she must be all grown-up now.
One day, my wife left
and took her away from me.
She left far away. China.
Back then,
I was working on emptiness.
Boy, did I feel emptiness!
We've all experienced emptiness.
- Right, I'm off.
I'll get soaked anyway.
- See ya.
Thank you, Bagnoule.
Fuck. What shitty weather!
Ccile Fouasse de Mauprs.
Leave a message.
Ccile. This is Jean-Yves.
I've been trying to call you
for three days.
And no word from you.
So I've decided
to leave you a message.
Listen...
I need to talk to you.
I...
How can I say this?
I'll get there
through thick and thin!
Through thick and thin!
I'm sorry.
I got carried away.
No.
No! No! No!
Oh, fuck!
Oh, shit!
It slid!
It slid!
Oh, no! Fuck!
It slid. It truly...
- I'm not surprised.
I'm not surprised.
I know your house.
You know it?
- Of course.
I told you, you are in good hands.
Le Homet will sort it out.
Come on, let's have a drink.
Wait.
I'll see if No is decent.
I'll be right back.
Is this "Lommais" a real entrepreneur?
It's his job.
It's Le Homet.
"Le" and then "Homet".
Go ahead, repeat it.
Le Homet.
Yes, I get it.
Is he competent?
- Of course.
He's also an artist.
Look at this giraffe.
And that's a portrait of No.
Who is No?
The person Le Homet lives with.
Are you guys coming?
- Yes, we're coming, Le Homet.
Yes, it's that way.
Are you well?
- Hi.
How's it going?
OK.
- Have a seat.
Need a hand, Le Homet?
- No.
Hello, madam.
- Hi.
Jean-Yves Machond.
Is white wine OK?
Who is that?
- That's No
Oh, right. No.
Is she a lady?
Why?
Does that worry you?
- No, not at all!
But, um...
Your house had already slid.
Really?
- Yes, 15 years ago.
We have to check
if the pipes haven't suffered.
I assure you
the pipes are fine.
Well, if I may...
I put 15 meters of large pipes
to empty it all.
Like I said,
Le Homet will sort it out.
He'll give you a good price, right?
No.
- Yes. Machond is a friend.
And he's also an artist like us.
Yes, like you...
We don't have the same work.
Come on now!
Artists must stick together!
Very true.
He told me
your portrait of No was splendid.
Those were his words. Splendid.
- Yes.
I'm touched.
I'll take it.
But I still think
the architect is a moron.
No house foundations is stupid.
No. Be careful.
That architect,
"the moron" as you say,
is Georges Mouton.
He doesn't care about foundations.
You need to be daring in art,
especially in architecture.
"Blow all those clichs",
as Mr Mouton would say.
"Blow"...
I love this guy!
Really?
- I really do!
I'm delighted.
Thank you, Mr Le Homet.
To Georges Mouton!
Blow!
- Blow!
Pull over for a sec, will you?
Here is good.
Honestly, you could have gone
at Le Homet's.
Where is he off to?
What are you doing?
I'll never make it.
Damn.
A prostate issue?
No. If only I could get near it.
Even just a bit.
It's forbidden.
It says so on the sign.
I don't mean that.
I'm talking about that!
These colors, this grace, this beauty!
If only I was worthy
of painting them.
I don't understand you, Machond.
Why is that?
Why did you come here?
You told me to pull over to urinate.
What's the matter?
What's wrong?
I'm fine.
- No, you're not fine.
I am.
Get it off your chest.
Tell me.
No.
OK...
I'm a bit worried about my house.
Your house.
I can see that's not the only thing.
Talk to Bagnoule.
Tell me what's wrong with Machond.
Come on.
Tell me!
I know!
What?
- Machond is in love.
My poor friend.
- Yes, that's true.
She drives me crazy!
I had a feeling.
- You won't tell, will you?
No. This is just between us.
- Of course.
Nature! There is nothing like it!
It all comes from nature
and goes back to it. It resolves it all.
You see that little fly there?
It's a turnip root fly.
Delia floralis.
First, it lands on the turnip flower,
it collects a lubricating substance
that then enables it
to impregnate the female!
Nature is crazy!
Are you serious about the fly?
No, I'm joking.
I'm trying to make you laugh.
Look who's here.
Hi!
Hi!
- How are you?
I'm just passing through.
I'll be off.
Do you know Machond?
I can't remember.
We met here. But we didn't really
introduce ourselves.
Let me, then.
- Machond. Deborah.
Jean-Yves.
- Deborah. Machond.
Jean-Yves wanted to buy
one of your pebbles.
Really?
- No.
That's kind of you.
I have one here, actually.
A pocket pebble.
May I take a look?
- Yes, but...
Is it expensive?
- How much?
It's fifty euro.
- Fifty.
Mine isn't as nice as this one.
- Take it.
Take it.
- I'll make you another one.
Take it, really.
I can't afford it at the moment.
Keep it. I'd like you to.
Pay me later.
In exchange for the blue
you gave me.
Well, I'm off.
- Oh, yes, the blue!
She's very pretty, that kid...
It almost hurts.
- What does?
Well, she's an odd girl.
She speaks many languages.
She's practically homeless.
She travels all the time.
When she's here,
she works in the back.
I know. I've seen it.
- The boss is fine with it.
Ccile Fouasse even offered her
an exhibition.
Ccile? In her gallery?
- Yes.
Deborah declined.
Can you believe it?
That girl's got guts!
You did well
to buy her pebble.
No, I didn't buy it.
Come on, you did!
And it really helps her out.
- It helps her out.
I too need help!
I have a sliding house, remember?
You're a real pain!
It costs next to nothing!
I can't buy from her every time!
People are starting to notice.
I'll reimburse you, if you like.
No, it's fine.
- Here, keep it.
It'll bring you luck.
You think so?
- Yes.
Helping others brings luck.
It's true that it's pretty.
- It is.
No!
Stop!
Stop!
We have a huge problem!
I think something broke.
I heard a strange noise.
I think something came loose.
My God!
What is that stench?
It's horrible. What is that?
It's shit.
Shit?
The septic tank alone held the house.
Oh, my God!
Something must be done!
I'll come back with my guys,
but when...
In the meantime,
watch out for rats tonight.
Rats?
- Yes.
This is a real ordeal, Mr Homet!
A real ordeal!
I'm so disappointed!
The smell is even worse inside!
It's horrendous!
We're a little surprised.
Why choose a subject
of such conventional sentimentality?
The hedgehog.
Don't be fooled, dear friends.
It's not sentimental.
I've told you,
I've been working for years now
against the subject's dictate.
And you know that!
You should rather
ask yourselves why you won't allow
yourselves this freedom.
Maybe because you are no artist.
Be reasonable, Machond!
All it takes is
a bit of gouache painting, black pencil
and you have a hedgehog!
See? I allow myself
the long hedgehog.
The same way I allow myself
the square one.
That's it, Machond.
Madness! You paint like a maniac!
Who is it?
Ccile.
The back door was open.
What a lovely surprise.
- So?
You sent me a message.
I thought you would come by.
An unfortunate mishap.
I'm sorry.
I was very emotional.
I was shaking as I waited...
Really?
God, it stinks here!
Did you just shit, Machond?
No. Not just now.
I've got problems with the drains.
I'll light an incense paper.
- Yes, please.
Perfect.
Here, I brought you this.
A nice bottle of port.
By Jove!
You spoil me!
You pour us a glass of port
while I discover
the alchemist's studio.
You know,
I've never been in this house before.
It's a shame to visit it
with this disgusting stench.
You paint pussies too, now?
No, they're not pussies.
They're hedgehogs.
Hedgehogs?
Hi.
Hi.
Be careful.
They're numbered.
Sorry.
Shall we toast?
To your visit.
Cheers.
Delicious.
How can you drink something so sweet
with this smell?
I'm really sorry.
So, Jean-Yves.
Hedgehogs.
- I imagine this surprises you.
A bit.
I decided
to go beyond the subject, you see?
It want the subject
to be both validated,
the subject being
the hedgehog of course,
and put out of play
because of its reproduction.
You understand?
Validated and put out of play.
We talked about it last time,
at the exhibition.
I no longer want the subject's dictate.
Therefore, there is no subject.
They're pussies, Jean-Yves.
Thousands of pussies.
You painted this for me.
All these pussies.
I don't really know
what's happening to me. I...
I come and visit an artist
in the middle of the night...
I don't know him.
No one knows I'm here.
No one?
- No one.
Absolutely no one?
- No one.
An artist who paints pussies.
I can't. Not with this smell.
No way.
I need some fresh air.
- But...
Hang on a...
- I think I'm gonna be sick.
Hang on, maybe we can...
- No.
... go for a stroll outside, maybe.
You don't agree?
Go back to your hedgehogs,
you pig!
For goodness sake, Ccile!
I have feelings!
Get lost!
No! No! Not now!
Shit!
It's funny, you're leaving a big smudge
where the sexual organ should be.
It looks like a cloud.
- Yes.
Is that on purpose?
- Yes.
I see the sexual organ
as an outdated concept.
At a time when people ask questions
about gender,
I'd say it's almost
a reactionary theme.
The right, or the far right.
I'm sorry to tell you this.
Who am I
to impose a sex on someone else?
Can't you see
which sex Sylvia is?
Honestly? No.
No. I'm against the idea
that we are able to see that.
That's crazy.
- Yes.
I'm a woman.
Are you sure of that, Sylvia?
Society has brainwashed you
for centuries
and says you are a woman.
But...
Maybe it's time
to ask the real questions.
I'm very serious.
- I see that.
You're so cute
when you're serious, Jean-Yves.
You make us laugh.
- Laugh?
Among the great apes...
Would you come to Brussels with me?
The day after tomorrow?
Yes, yes.
Dear friends.
I'm off to Brussels.
No! What about the house
and the repair work?
You're moving back to Brussels?
No.
Just a business trip.
See you in front of the coach station.
Leaving at midday.
Hello? Ccile.
Yes, my love.
I was wondering about you.
No, it's me.
No.
- Hey! It's Bagnoule!
I recognized your breathing, you idiot.
What do you want?
I was busy working.
I wanted
to invite you to dinner tonight.
No. Tomorrow, I get up at dawn,
I have to be in shape.
Come on!
My cousin brought me capons!
I cook them
with truffles and foie gras.
Isn't foie gras banned?
- No. Not yet. Come on!
OK. Fine. I need to relax.
I'm warning you,
I won't go to bed at ungodly hours.
Sorry, Bagnoule, I have to go.
What are you doing
with a frying pan?
Were you planning on cooking?
- Yes.
I'm sorry.
You startled me.
I was gonna fry
a few mushrooms.
Will you have a bite with me, Claude?
- No, thank you.
Call me Pilou.
It's easier.
OK.
Do you fancy a drink?
That's funny.
I have exactly the same port at home.
What a coincidence, isn't it?
That's not why I'm here.
I have a favour to ask you.
Yes, with pleasure.
Would you accompany my wife
to Brussels?
So...
In short...
I'll get straight to the point.
I no longer trust my wife.
Ccile?
- Yes. I bet my life that
she's cheating on me.
That she has a lover.
By Jove!
By Jove!
You said it!
What makes you say that?
Because I've noticed...
This is very intimate.
That she's...
She's getting excited again.
"Excited", you mean...
Yes.
- Sexually? That's none of my business.
That's not the point.
- No.
Will you accompany her?
Yes or no?
Yes, but...
I'll explain it to her.
Don't worry about that.
I need a periscope.
You get what I'm saying?
And that's what I expect from you.
I need to know what she's up to!
Who she's with. In total discretion.
A periscope to look at the surface.
Got it.
But what makes you think
he's from Brussels?
He's not from around here!
I know everyone here.
It's very small here.
FYI, I'm Belgian, you know.
You're joking?
- I'm serious.
I wouldn't tell.
No, because I erased it,
I smoothed it out.
So I could blend in more easily.
You understand?
- It's true, you have no accent.
But believe me when I say this.
If he lives here
and I come across him...
He's in for a rough time.
I'll smash his fucking face in!
I think he had enou...
Until all his teeth fall out.
And after that?
- I'll take care of his balls.
His balls?
It's really weighing on you, huh?
One last thing
I also wanted to tell you.
We'll play it old-school.
"Old-school"?
- She's going to call you,
but I was never here.
We never saw each other.
I get it.
- You never heard a thing.
We never had this talk.
Understood?
- Understood. OK.
By the way,
I think your work is stunning.
Really? You like it?
- Yes. I'll buy two of your pussies.
They can't be worth much.
They're hedgehogs.
Call them whatever you want.
If that turns you on.
Look, because you're a friend,
it's 3,000 euro each.
I would have paid 1,500 for both.
- Deal for 1,500 for both then.
That seems fairer to me.
- Yes.
Could I ask your for a small advance?
I'm in a bit of a pickle.
- You artists are all the same!
Big rats!
This is all I have on me.
Here, take it.
Trust, my friend.
What do you have in the word "trust"?
"Us"?
- No, "Hush".
And in "Hush", you have?
- "Shh"?
Now you get it!
Bye, Pilou.
Jean-Yves?
What are you doing here?
- I had a meeting with pebbles.
Look? See?
Were you out walking?
- Yes.
Shall we walk together?
- OK.
You know it's forbidden
to pick up any pebbles at the Parthenon?
It's seen as theft.
They say there'd be nothing left,
without that.
That would perhaps be better.
Tabula rasa.
They're just old stones.
Why did you turn down the exhibition?
Because it's Ccile's gallery
or because you don't want to exhibit?
It's neither.
I don't want that.
No gallery, no exhibition, no curator.
I don't want any of that.
- Then you won't sell anything!
Yes, I will. Even to you.
- Yes...
Listen to me.
What you are doing...
is very good.
It's very strong.
It's honest, simple and real.
Even if I refuse
to be dictated by "beauty".
I know.
- That is no laughing matter.
It's dramatic
to deal with beauty, you know.
It's tragic.
Because people rank values.
You have the beautiful and the ugly.
Acceptable - outdated.
Original - banal.
Enough of that.
But why do you do
what you do?
What's the...
The concept?
- Yes, the concept. I don't get it.
I think I'm looking for a way through.
A way through... to what?
To eternity.
But if you don't exhibit...
You don't exist.
Have you ever exhibited?
Me? How should I put it.
It's more complex.
Personally,
I'm against the principle, the concept
of exhibiting, exhibitor...
But, yes, I've done it.
So you exist?
Well spotted!
I'm lost for words.
Are you going to Bagnoule's tonight?
- I am.
Let's go together?
- With pleasure.
But I've got to head back home to pack.
I'm off to Brussels tomorrow.
- I know.
How do you know that?
You've painted thousands of hedgehogs!
They're almost all the same.
No.
You see, Deborah...
It's the principle of repetition
that makes the hedgehog interesting.
Because a hedgehog in itself
is not very important.
Not very important?
Yes. I could have painted a cigarette butt,
spit, a condom...
It doesn't matter.
It's in repetition as an act
that I question
what I made visible.
Tell me you're not serious?
- Of course I'm serious. Be careful.
They're numbered.
- Who's that? Your daughter?
Yes.
How did you know?
She looks a bit like you.
You think so?
Her name is Jia-Li.
She was four years old.
She must be twenty now.
Her mother went to live in China.
She is a great lover of oriental art.
In fact,
she left me for a Chinese man.
Jia-Li in Chinese means
"good and beautiful".
Yes, that's right.
How do you know that?
I speak a little Chinese.
Do you now?
Look.
She sent it to me.
I know it's her
because she signed Jia-Li. See?
But I can't understand
the Chinese part.
"We'll get to know one another.
There's still time."
The postcard is from Qingdao.
It's a big city in China.
See?
By the seaside.
But how does she know
where I am?
The Chinese know everything.
You think so?
But in your opinion,
what should I do?
Wait.
May I ask a question?
- How come I speak Chinese?
For instance.
- Intriguing.
Yes, because you're puzzling.
I'm sorry but I...
What if we left it all vague?
What if we refrained
from putting adjectives right now?
What if, for once,
we took it as it is?
Yes, you're right.
It's a good concept, isn't it?
- It's an excellent one.
A liberating concept?
We could say a liberating one...
- Come on, let's go.
Did you know that today,
I sold two of my pieces.
To whom?
A collector.
Well done!
- Anything is possible!
This deserves a toast!
Well done!
To Machond!
- Bottoms up!
Bottoms up!
He is one of us
He sold his paintings
Like the others.
You agree that we're all artists?
- Yes, more or less.
I think there will be
more and more of us.
You have at least
one or two artists per family.
Just as there used to be
a doctor, a vicar, a soldier, a lawyer.
So what will we do
with all these artists?
Have you thought of that?
We'll have to rethink
the status of art.
Art will become organic,
epidermal, internal.
What are you on about, Machond?
- It will!
And your hedgehogs?
- What?
They're fine the way they are.
- That's very kind.
I don't paint. I never have.
I don't paint anymore.
I paint the idea of painting. Get it?
You must ask yourself that question.
Rambling.
A little calvados, anyone?
See you tomorrow, darling.
Did I hear "calvados"?
Give it here.
- Haven't you had enough to drink?
No. Pour him a glass.
It's well-known
that all artists can hold their drink.
Oh, shit!
Bagnoule?
And dress nicely.
Oh, shit!
Machond!
What on earth is that?
You look dreadful! What happened?
There was a party at Bagnoule's...
It's a bit long to explain.
Can we stop at my place
so I can change?
We can't. We're already very late.
Do you mind driving? I hate driving.
You mean the car?
Aren't we going by coach?
By coach? Are you crazy?
Can you see me taking a coach?
But I've already bought a ticket.
You're very nice
but sometimes you're embarrassing!
Come on, let's go!
You're right.
Tomorrow then?
OK. Tomorrow.
I don't know. I'll think about it.
You're mean.
See you tomorrow.
See you tomorrow.
I had to throw up
in the latrines.
Bagnoule made capon yesterday.
God, it was so rich.
He's a nice guy
but he cooks like a Soviet.
You are gorgeous, my love.
Where will all this take us?
Jean-Yves, your breath stinks!
Here, have a mint.
That's possible because...
I have allergies, so...
No, but... Go ahead.
- OK.
Take more than one.
Well, now that I have
an empty stomach,
I'm a little hungry.
Shall we stop
at a nice little restaurant?
No stopping now. We'll do that tonight
in a charming hotel.
Well, no.
That's absurd.
Brussels is only 500 km away.
No need to stop.
I don't like long drives.
Must I explain myself all the time?
It's a real pain.
Come on, let's go!
OK.
A little romantic stop over.
I can be such a fool sometimes.
Adventure here we come!
Here is your card and your key.
Thank you.
- The other room is for Mr Machond.
Can you settle it, Jean-Yves?
- Yes, of course.
Do you take cash?
- Of course.
Will you book us a table for 7 pm?
I'm going to rest in my room.
OK.
But don't you fancy a walk outside?
I'm exhausted. I'm going to rest.
Do what you like.
OK, Ccile.
Your room is not ready yet.
We have a lovely garden
if you'd like to wait there.
That's 122 euro, please.
That was nice. Very nice.
I feel good, Jean-Yves.
I think I feel free.
I've rarely felt so free.
To get back
to the concept of your new gallery...
We've talked a lot
about the gallery,
why don't we go for a walk
in the garden?
I feel like stretching my legs.
Have a nice evening.
Thank you.
Have a nice evening.
Sometimes at night,
I feel like a wolf.
This was one of the loveliest evenings
of my life!
You're such an amazing woman.
So close and yet so far.
Le diffrent diffrent.
Yes.
Le diffrent diffrent.
Your conceptual idea
for my gallery.
I like it. It's very interesting.
It could be like...
a kind of underlying flow.
A rhizome.
And so relevant to today!
- Of course.
However,
I still have the same question.
Shouldn't it be translated into English?
Yes.
Because , diffrent diffrent...
I'm a bit cold.
Shall we go inside?
There. Good. No more.
These days, I'm not...
Off to bed now.
We're leaving early tomorrow. Go.
Good night, Jean-Yves.
Be sensible.
Ccile.
Let me lie down beside you.
I'll be the shadow of your shadow.
The shadow of your hand.
The shadow of your dog.
Jacques Brel, right?
Yes, it's Jacques Brel.
Really, Jean-Yves!
We're not even in Belgium yet!
Hello, Mr Machond.
This is reception here.
Yes?
It's midday.
You had to free the room for 11 am.
Oh, shit!
It's midday?
It's 12:12 pm.
Have you seen Mrs Fouasse?
- Mrs Fouasse? She left.
No. That's impossible.
- She did. She left very early.
Your bill for the minibar!
One second, please, madam.
Hello? Ccile?
- Did you sleep well, darling?
Yes. I'm sorry I overslept...
Where are you?
- In Brussels.
In Brussels? No.
Ccile, I...
That can't be!
I'm here.
In the hotel car park
with my rolling suitcase.
I'm waiting for you. What are you doing?
Come here. What am I to do?
No. Don't bore me with reality.
You're hurting me.
I'm sorry, Ccile.
I didn't get what you said.
Bore you with what?
Hello? Hello?
Ccile Fouasse de Mauprs.
Leave a message.
The bill for the minibar.
- Yes.
I had a beer.
- Yes.
He had everything.
Even the liqueurs and chocolates.
That's 69.50 euro.
In cash?
I'd forgotten. Hmm?
- Cash?
Yes, cash.
- Great.
I have to go to Brussels.
Where is the nearest train station?
There haven't been any trains in ages!
Try Daumiane.
It's 50 km from here.
Daumiane?
How do I get there?
How do I get to the station?
By coach.
- By coach. OK.
But you have to hurry
to catch the last one.
OK.
Thank you.
- Have a nice day, sir.
Wait for me!
Wait for me!
Yes? Ccile?
Oh, Pilou!
No!
I thought it was Ccile.
She's in the lavatories
so I thought she might have a problem.
No. Everything is fine.
We had to stop yesterday
because she was unwell.
It was a lovely little inn.
Yes, she was a bit... That's it.
I wouldn't have put it like that.
That's it.
No, she didn't mention a lover.
No. Rest assured.
I'd know about it.
No. She talked a lot
about her new gallery.
But she didn't mention a lover.
Don't you worry, Mr Pilou.
I'm keeping an eye on her.
I'll keep you posted.
Yes. Talk to you soon.
Shit! Shit!
Is everything OK, sir?
- No, everything is not OK!
I'm walking.
I'm allowed to, aren't I?
I do as I please.
And now backwards.
It's a concept.
And forwards again.
One. Two. Three.
Four. Five.
It's a concept
That's the way I walk.
But it's a concept
that's beyond you!
And backwards again.
And forwards again.
Show me your ID, sir.
No, sir.
I'm not obliged to do so.
Show it to me.
- No. I'm Jean-Yves Machond. Period.
Good. Show it to me.
- No. Why would I do that?
I'm in a forest.
I have the right to take a stroll!
Am I bothering someone?
No, I'm not!
Stop shouting.
- Don't lay a hand on me!
No police violence!
It's not.
- Yes, it is! Watch out!
Black Lives!
- What...
Black Lives Matter!
Nice try!
Jacky!
Come and help me. Enough!
He's crazy!
- Help me, people of the forest!
There you go.
- My suitcase!
I'll get it.
Watch your head.
Watch your head.
- Bastards! My suitcase!
Thank you.
Where is the Gendarmerie?
Because, to be honest with you,
I'd like to get closer to Daumiane.
Are you OK?
- I'm OK.
You've calmed down now?
I feel better.
I'm sorry.
You no longer hear
the insurrection rising?
Justice for George Floyd?
- No.
You're feeling OK?
- Yes.
I'm not Gring?
Gring? No.
Or Goebbels?
Nor him.
You look more like Che...
Guevara.
You're free to go.
Just like that?
Thank you.
Can I ask you something?
How do I get to Le Trport
by public transport?
First, can I give you
a piece of advice?
A piece of advice?
Gladly. I'm all ears.
You should learn to shut up.
TABULA RASA!
FAREWELL, POOR LOSER
Do you know
what they do to wolves?
Sorry?
Do you know
what they do to wolves?
No.
- They miniaturize them.
That's true.
Someone told me so.
They make them
smaller and smaller?
I have one here.
A wolf that wants to get out.
I can hear it.
Can you hear it?
No.
Listen.
Can you hear it?
Yes.
The hospital wanted to remove it
but I refused.
In the current climate
it's too dangerous.
I understand.
Do you have a wolf, too?
No.
No, I don't.
I have a daughter.
But...
I have nothing left.
Sorry.
Sorry. I'm sorry.
It'll be OK.
I'm sorry.
- That's OK.
Well, there's your wolf.
Look. There.
The pebble?
Thank you.
Fuck!
What the hell?
Oh, my God!
Fuck!
Are you OK, Machond?
I'm OK, Pilou.
I know about Ccile.
Listen,
I'll explain everything.
I know.
I know everything.
A Belgian osteopath.
He's from Brussels.
That idiot came here
to give a stupid shamanism course.
That's in the past now.
It's over.
You didn't see anything, right?
You'd have told me?
Of course, Pilou.
Of course I'd have told you.
An osteopath?
Belgian.
I have your money.
I owed you 2,000
for the two pussies.
The two pussies?
Oh! The hedgehogs.
Unfortunately,
I'm in the middle of burning them.
Yes, I quit.
Yes, I quit, Pilou.
You quit?
- I quit drawing,
painting, cinema, literature.
I'm done with all that.
You also did cinema and literature?
Well, yes.
- I didn't know.
Perhaps it's for the best...
You think so?
You gave me way too much here...
Keep it.
You need it more than I do.
Here. I still have Macha's painting.
Don't you want it?
What's that doing here?
I threw it out the window.
Yes, that's true.
I don't want it.
Shall I get you a Blue Sky?
- Sorry?
Shall I get you a Blue Sky?
No. Not today.
Do you know
where Deborah is?
She left.
Left? Where?
- Far away, I think.
But she always comes back
at some point.
Two weeks, three months.
You never know.
Do you have a pen?
Could you give this to her?
In person?
I bought a piece from her.
I owed her money.
You can count on me.
Thank you.
If you see Bagnoule...
Could you give him this?
Of course.
- Thank you.
Have a nice day.
Yes? Hello?
No. Sorry, I'm busy right now.
No, I'm back,
but I'm not staying long. Yes.
What?
No! When?
Oh, shit!
I'll be right there!
Yes. It's me again.
I don't know where that is.
Oh, shit.
Machond.
Thank you for coming.
My God! What happened?
A dizzy spell. I don't know.
He was working on his giraffe.
He fell off his ladder.
He's been in a coma since yesterday.
Even with a 2016 Chambertin,
he won't respond.
Come on, Bagnoule.
In such a state,
you don't think about Grands Crus.
You think?
- Yes. Where is his wife?
No?
- Yes, No.
No is not his wife.
Yes... But shh.
I'm sure he's listening
and he can hear us.
You think he can hear us?
- Of course.
Shit.
Listen...
- What?
Maybe I could talk to him.
When I talk to people,
I don't know why,
I always have an effect on them.
Maybe I can...
It's funny, I noticed it.
It's an odd thing.
You have a thing.
You see?
- Yes.
Give it a try.
I'm off because...
- You must be exhausted.
I haven't slept a wink.
Thank you, Machond.
Thank you so much.
Bye.
What to say at the bedside
of a dying artist?
I do not know.
Dear Le Homet.
It's very likely...
you will perish.
How unfortunate.
But in a way...
I envy you.
Because you are leaving
a world...
full of idiots.
Being an artist is a misery.
You didn't realize it,
but I am too lucid.
Your work was unusual.
A bit crude.
Without any aesthetics.
Wild.
Sometimes clumsy, but...
But very real.
I had opted for
the avant-garde high-speed train.
What a joke!
You were naive, Le Homet.
But it was your strength.
It's so rare these days.
You were beautiful...
I mean handsome. Sorry.
You knew how to live.
You lived life to the fullest.
Eggs and bacon.
Stuffed cabbage.
Mushrooms that make you fart.
Bordeaux wines.
How you loved them so!
On the other hand, I...
I was content
with a few pages of James Joyce.
An article in Les Cahiers du Cinma.
A bit of noise music.
A half-tone conversation
with a cultivated Parisian woman.
That's what I'd miss if I was dying.
But I'm not dying, you are.
You have to look death in the face.
But I wanted to say farewell.
Farewell and above all...
Thank you, Le Homet.
You opened my eyes,
you made me understand...
that I was wrong.
Yes.
I wanted to paint...
But what on earth could I paint?
You were the artists.
You.
Deborah. Bagnoule.
Macha.
You were the guardians of memory.
Vigils.
In this new land of the blind,
you are the one-eyed guardians
of the beauty of the world.
Shut up! Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up forever!
Forever.
Shut up and let me die!
- I'll let you die.
Yes.
- Yes.
Good God, he's alive!
He's awake!
You have to listen to the world.
That way, you'll see it better.
Good job, though.
Bagnoule, look! A seagull!
How nice!
You see, Machond,
beauty is not over yet.
Jean-Yves!
You have a video call.
You coming?
I'm coming
Deborah?
My God!
Hi!
Are you well?
Yes. I was painting.
We created a small team.
With Bagnoule, Macha
and the others.
Mouton's Painting Painting.
In English.
What about you?
Where have you been?
I'm calling from Qingdao. In China.
Qingdao?
I'll pass you your daughter.
THE ART OF NOTHING
Emptiness...
Yes, emptiness, again.
Tabula rasa and vita nova!
It means a clean slate and a new life.
It's Latin.
My first empty room...
Without the storage rooms.
My first empty room was Mannheim.
It was in 1989.
A huge scandal.
I have a scar here.
Can you see it?
A beer can thrown by a German critic.
That was my nada period.
It's Spanish. It means nothing.
I don't care what you think.
Then, 2009,
the retrospective in Beaubourg.
Yes, it is recognition.
You can see it that way.
Sorry?
And after that?
It's break-up and separation.
It's withdrawal from the world.
Let's not talk about it.
No, no, no!
Don't insist, old chap.
I said no.
Yes, I've dedicated
my whole life to teaching
but that's over now.
A radical change, I'm telling you!
Machond still has things to say!
Yes? What do you want?
Are you Mr Machond?
- That's me.
Removal man.
I'm sorry. Forgive me.
Right this way.
Mr Machond? Are you leaving?
Kids, what a lovely surprise!
How nice of you to come.
Yes. Nothing keeping me here.
So you're really going
to live by the sea?
Yes, the sea, the waves,
the pebble beaches.
The painters' muse.
We came to say
you were our favorite teacher.
Really?
Well, I'm...
I'm really touched.
You made us laugh so much.
- Yes, really.
Laugh?
OK. Yes.
Among the great apes,
the manifestation of fear
is sometimes mistaken
for a laughing grin.
"For beauty is nothing
but the beginning of terror."
Rainer Maria Rilke.
Yes, that's it.
A small gift, Mr Machond.
It's from everyone.
- Chocolates!
You're spoiling me.
I love chocolate.
Where are they from?
- Marcolini.
No. I meant,
from which country are they from?
I don't know.
- It's important.
Chocolate is no joke.
The chocolate from Venezuela is
not the same as the one from Ethiopia.
Take a Carpathian chocolate,
it's stronger, more aggressive,
with its little berries.
Only the Chinese can't make chocolate.
It's not part of their culture.
Never mind.
Tabula rasa. Vita nova.
Alea jacta est.
I'm off.
Well done.
Freely adapted from the novel
"La dilution de l'artiste" by Jean-Philippe Delhomme
Look.
I didn't lie.
Vita nova.
What did you say?
Of course I'll get to work.
Just give me a little time.
No, you're right.
We must not waste any time.
But I have time to unpack, don't I?
Acceptable.
Sir?
Hello.
This is private property, sir.
Does someone live there now?
- Yes.
Me.
It's written: "Private Property."
Really? So the car belongs to you?
- Yes.
Are you squatting?
- No, sir, I'm not.
I live here.
What? You bought that?
Can you live in it?
- Yes, I can.
I don't know if you were told
but you don't have a seaview.
Yes, it's the architect's choice.
Georges Mouton.
He refused the dictatorship
of the panorama. Unlike you.
Now leave.
I'm... Yes, yes.
I'm sorry.
I've been coming here for years
to practice plein air painting.
Yes.
- I'm embarrassed.
OK. You couldn't have known.
Are you a painter?
A painter...
It's a little more nuanced than that.
Yes...
But we're both painters, then.
It's more complicated than that.
A painter but...
- You can't fool me. Look at your shirt.
That changes everything!
Pierre Bagnoule, artist-painter.
I live in Le Trport.
Jean-Yves Machond.
Let's drink to it, Jean-Yves Machond!
Yes indeed!
Isn't it a bit early?
- I only have paper cups.
Shall we go to your place?
At mine? No.
- Because...
No?
- No, because...
Visiting a studio implies
a certain intimacy...
Don't worry.
We'll do it some other time.
This is no plonk, you'll see.
You know, Biloule,
you were talking about this shirt.
It's Bagnoule.
- Sorry?
Bagnoule.
- Yes, Bagnoule.
You were talking about this shirt.
- Yes.
And?
- Do you know who it belonged to?
No. Who?
Bernard Buffet.
Who had it from Henri Matisse.
Who had it from Eugne Boudin.
It's crazy.
- I assure you.
I bought it at an auction room
five years ago.
With the easel.
I just need
to find the palette now.
It's a concept.
A concept that must have cost you
an arm and leg!
Expensive...
But I fell in love with it.
Believe it or not, I know someone
who knew Bernard Buffet very well.
Really?
- Yes.
She's a friend
who's an incredible painter.
You should meet her.
Agreed?
And you should come to my place.
We're a small group of friends.
Don't you want to?
I do...
I have to see if I have time.
Jean-Yves Machond.
You don't say!
Back up, asshole!
MACHA MONIAK
BOY
Sir? How did you get in?
Through the door, naturally.
I'm here for the vernissage.
I'm a guest of Bagnoule. The painter.
It's far too early, sir.
We open in half an hour.
Right. Very well.
So I should...
- Yes.
Yes. You do that.
Thank you.
Hello.
- Hello.
Hello.
- Hello, sir.
Can I get you something?
Yes.
Do you have a list, a menu?
If you want to eat, it's too early.
No.
Just a drink.
Anything regional to recommend?
No, it's on the list.
Do you have any cocktails?
Yes, it's written here.
No, hang on...
So much to choose from!
It's quite an art
to choose a cocktail at the right time.
Fitzgerald said:
"Who cares what time it is..."
Because it's always the right time.
Because the earth turns.
Wherever you are, the earth turns.
It's always time for a drink somewhere.
What will it be?
I shall be tempted by...
a Blue Sky.
Are you sure?
- Yes.
Blue is very poetic.
Blue is the color
of truth and spirituality.
Blues music.
Blue sky.
The blue hour.
Do you have gherkins
or anything similar?
It's not the time.
- Of course.
How interesting.
Is it a local specialty?
No.
Are you an artist?
In a way...
I hope they're not from tretat.
Collecting them there is banned.
Really?
- Yes, really.
No, these are from here.
God, it's awful.
I'll leave it here.
If you need blue for your pebbles.
That was really awful.
What was in it?
It's no surprise, Macha.
Why?
- Because it's stunning!
Machond!
How are you?
You look chic!
What is this jacket?
Japanese.
- Really?
I'll introduce you
to Macha Moniak.
The artist. She's great.
Now?
- Macha.
Macha.
- Yes?
May I introduce Machond.
An angry painter.
Right?
That's what you told me.
Jean-Yves.
My name is Jean-Yves Machond.
Splendid. I haven't had a good look yet,
but it looks promising.
You're a painter?
A painter...
It's more complex.
Abstract? Figurative?
Did you see my retrospective?
In Paris.
At the Petit Palais last year.
The Petit Palais...
Quite something, isn't she?
She is the one who knew Buffet.
Buffet was born in 1923.
How old was she
when they made love?
See you later.
Do you like it?
I was wondering
if it was oil or acrylic.
I think it must be a mixture.
Ccile Fouasse de Mauprs.
I own the gallery.
- By Jove!
Nice to meet you.
- And you.
Lovely gallery.
- Isn't it?
Lovely installation.
You don't like her work?
- I didn't say that. Not at all.
It's the subject.
The subject of the female sex
in this day and age...
I feel that after Courbet
everything has been said.
Unless she wanted
to add a third degree.
Sushi?
- Yes, thank you.
A political statement?
I don't know.
I don't know.
Is it still...
a relevant topic, the...
Such an imposing female sex.
Sorry, I...
Such an imposing female sex.
I don't know if it's still...
Thank you.
And why not the female sex?
Look at Mapplethorpe's penises.
Yes.
- The penises. That man...
liked dicks.
Yes, that's true.
- So what? I like dicks, too.
So why not vulvas?
Why not vulvas?
Yes.
What's wrong with that?
- Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Nothing wrong with that.
Did you know it was mine?
It's well painted.
There's volume.
I'm joking.
You got me there!
I had my suspicions,
because you're blond and...
That one is very hairy.
It must be someone with black hair.
Black hair.
I mean darker.
Are we going to talk
about my pussy all evening?
No.
Forgive me.
I haven't introduced myself.
Jean-Yves Machond.
I know.
I recognized you.
Really?
- Yes.
By Jove!
- Yes.
I just reread
an article about you in Artung.
An old issue.
Hang on... Artung...
Yes. It's a bit dated.
It was lying around in my toilet.
I was informed by the local press,
that is Bagnoule,
that you were moving to Mers-les-Bains.
- Yes, that's right.
What did he say?
Oh, yes.
"Drop everything to recharge
and find meaning again."
Right?
Yes, that's it.
- A bit dj vu, don't you think?
Yes. Yes.
To be honest with you...
How can I put it?
I came here for a tabula rasa.
I left behind the conceptual
while remaining conceptual.
I question the motif.
But I refuse the motif, and the beauty.
In short, I'm back to painting.
Really? At your age?
You're crazy!
Why?
I'm joking! It's a joke!
- I get it!
You're too serious, Jean-Yves.
You're so serious!
- Don't be fooled. I love jokes.
Really?
- I love to laugh.
Among the great apes, the grin...
Please, no.
I've heard it a thousand times.
And no quotes from Rilke.
Please spare me.
Yes, of course.
Anyway, it's fascinating!
- It is?
It's fascinating.
Explain it to me again, but slowly.
With pleasure.
- Very slowly.
Of course.
I'll be honest.
Many people are interested in it.
But it hasn't been bought yet.
You'll need to position yourselves...
Hi.
Hi.
Sorry.
Sorry.
- Ccile, I was thinking...
If you'd like
to take a look at my work,
I have sketches of sketches in my car.
Yes. Some other time.
I'm busy now.
Gladly.
I don't usually have
a business card on me,
but as luck would have it. Here.
Great.
Give it to my assistant there, Laetitia.
There.
She's waiting for you.
Sorry, who is your assistant?
- Laetitia. She's there.
Yes. I know her.
The GAFA business is not really
mail order anymore.
Those people generate
the virtual world.
Oh, there you are!
I was looking for you!
Oh, Macha! My dear!
What are you doing?
Are you crazy?
A misunderstanding.
- I saw it.
I thought she was talking to me.
For a conceptual guy, you're funny.
Well done.
Come meet my husband.
You're data. I'm data. We're...
- Claude.
Jean-Yves Machond, an artist.
Hello. A pleasure.
- This is my husband, Dr Claude Fouasse.
He's data. We're data.
We're all data.
What is Amazon?
Well, 99 percent of their sales
is data. It's data. The rest is nothing.
- I know.
That's enough! Stop it!
You get the virtuality of things?
I take and take and take.
Why?
To invest in the bitcoin.
I'd love to visit your studio,
Jean-Yves.
Do you give tours?
By appointment only.
What are you whispering about?
He offered me a studio tour.
- Not at all.
Not at all.
Not at all?
I know those tricks.
- No.
I know the "studio tours".
You want a tour of my wife's knickers?
Stop it. You're a real pain!
What? Isn't it funny?
- No, it's not.
Wasn't it funny?
It was.
- No.
No.
- Yes, it was.
Enough of that.
This place bored the shit out of me.
Don't mind my husband.
Don't worry.
It's tragic.
Alcohol is sometimes...
- You don't drink?
In moderation.
- That doesn't surprise me.
We're having a drink at home
with Macha and friends. Want to join us?
With pleasure.
- Let's go then.
Will he be there?
- Well yes, it's his home.
Are you fucking serious?
Come on!
That idiot is right on my ass!
What an asshole!
A disabled spot, too!
Look at that!
It's crazy! This is cuckoo land!
Did you come by car?
Um... No.
Yes. I'm just a little further.
Come with us.
We'll order you a taxi
back to your car.
Very well.
Need a hand for the maneuver?
- No, I'm OK.
No?
Take a good look at this.
Fuck.
Right on my ass...
Here, a nice bump with the tow hitch!
Be careful...
You hit the car.
- No. Don't worry.
There's one driver, not two.
Fuck!
Be careful.
You tailgated him, Pilou.
- I tailgated him?
No, no!
- Yes, he blocked you and...
No!
You're twisting things!
You hit it again.
It's a collector's car.
Be careful.
Really?
We'll take good care of it then.
What are you doing?
Do me a favour, Meckton.
- It's Machond.
Look.
I'll drive forward.
Roll down your window.
Do as I say right now.
We'll drive next to the car.
And you'll grab the mirror.
Go on. Pull it off!
Grab it! Grab it!
Got it?
Honestly, Pilou!
Will you stop, Pilou?
Leave me alone.
Mind your own business.
I'm a little surprised.
I was told that German cars
are cozy.
But here, I think the saddle...
The seat is a little harsh.
Don't you think?
Look at what your artist did!
Look!
Sorry?
- Well done! Great!
Terrific!
He sat on Macha's daub!
What?
- Yeah, look!
Oh, no! Jean-Yves!
- Shit!
I'm sorry.
- Give it here.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
- I'm sorry.
I don't believe this guy!
No!
- Pilou, what the hell?
It's blasphemy.
I think it wasn't dry.
What?
- I think the canvas wasn't dry.
Can we stop?
Can you try not to sit down
because if you put paint on the seats
we'll never hear the end of it!
'Cause his car...
I'll stand like this.
- In suspension.
Sorry, Doctor,
but you can't drive.
Your wife will have to drive.
You're the one
as drunk as a skunk.
I don't think so, sir.
You are.
Did you hear me, Mrs Fouasse?
- I do not drive!
She doesn't.
Do I have the right?
Is that allowed?
Fuck, I'd like to go home!
Maybe the abbot then?
- Excuse me?
Have you been drinking?
- No.
A little cocktail. A Blue Sky.
A little curaao-based cocktail.
Please step out of the car, Abbot.
And you too.
I'm not an abbot.
He says he didn't drink
and he had curaao!
Can you come over here?
- Yes.
Step out, Doctor.
Blow without stopping for a long period.
No, without stopping.
Without stopping.
Please.
- This way, Doctor.
Sorry.
More, more, more.
OK. Thank you.
He's negative, Chief.
You're good to go.
Thank you.
- Can we go now?
I'm coming.
Sorry, Ccile.
Well done.
You took care of it like a champ!
How can I thank you?
- No need for that.
I don't feel like joining the others.
Let's go to my room.
Your room?
With pleasure.
Come in.
Lovely room space.
Do you mind taking your trousers off?
They're full of paint,
you'll get everything dirty.
Yes.
Here?
Yes.
Do you mind?
No.
I can lend you
a pair of Claude's trousers if you like.
No.
A piece of Macha.
Do you know
I loved your empty rooms?
Really?
- Yes, really.
Out of all the empty spaces,
yours was...
the emptiest.
When I first started
the empty rooms,
the first time
I exhibited an empty room,
to me, it was the peak of art.
Not just conceptual art,
but art in general.
It was something. You know?
When people saw my work
and entered that empty room,
I wanted them to be free.
Free to see
what they wanted to see.
That's what I wanted to do.
I almost bought
one of your empty rooms.
Really?
- Yes.
But Claude wasn't keen, of course.
- That's a pity.
We don't have the same tastes, he and I.
- Pilou.
And yet you have a fine abode!
A nice big empty room
would have fitted nicely here.
What a crazy boy!
Well, I'm an enthusiast,
but crazy...
Fancy a joint?
A joint? In truth, why not.
I have a question for you.
Do you think
I'm going to sleep with you?
No. What an idea!
Of course not.
Really?
I had the feeling you did.
What an idea! No!
I'm not an animal, Ccile.
Not at all?
You'll hurt my feelings.
You're playing with me.
Are you single, Jean-Yves?
Um... Yes.
Unmarried? No kids?
Straight, cisgender-binary, right?
Yes, sadly.
I was married. Divorced.
A kid I haven't seen since...
Oh, God, no!
No more sadness!
OK?
Spare me.
- OK.
I think we are alike.
I want us to be friends.
Sorry.
I wasn't expecting that.
It's very strong.
But it's good.
Yes, it's good.
We mustn't go too fast
because I'm very slow.
Ccile?
Is anything the matter?
It's not that.
Don't...
Don't pay any attention.
I'm too emotional.
It's true.
It's all a bit jumbled up.
I'm a piece of shit, Jean-Yves.
A piece of shit?
Not at all!
That's the joint talking.
Not at all, Ccile.
You're...
How can I put it?
You're wonderful.
Give me the joint.
The joint. Give it to me.
It's in your hand.
You're an exceptional woman, you hear?
Stop it, Jean-Yves.
Stop it because...
You know I opened a second gallery?
I did!
I got some old halls in Honfleur.
It's a stunning place.
It's magical.
It's huge.
I'd like you to come with me.
It's still empty.
Right. I see.
Perhaps you could advise me.
And there, perhaps, you could lay me.
With pleasure.
No! What am I saying?
It would be a pleasure to help you.
Of course,
Claude is against this project.
As usual.
- Claude. Pilou.
We have completely different tastes.
He's down-to-earth.
He doesn't understand me.
He's keen
on paintings with little boats.
You know, Ccile...
I'm an honest man.
This may seem premature to you,
but you and I,
it's love at first sight.
It happens to people...
who are open to all chances.
It's best for you to leave
before ruining it all.
Back off, naughty mouth.
How naughty!
- I don't know what came over me.
I thought for a second that you...
Well, no.
OK.
I don't feel like it.
I'm sorry, Ccile.
I behaved like a...
My phone!
Where is it?
Ccile?
- I found it!
Harold.
Where are you, big boy?
Hang on. Speak up.
What did you take?
I'll be right there.
What the hell are you doing here?
Nothing.
I thought you were a painter,
not a musician, Machond.
We're all musicians in some way.
I just think
that a lack of knowledge
offers many opportunities.
Would you say
that in music, as in painting,
you would be like a bird that sings?
You are quoting Messiaen.
You amuse me.
Excuse me.
Yes, hello?
Jean-Yves Machond.
Jean-Yves? It's me.
Ccile!
How are you?
I'm so ashamed about last night.
How did you manage?
Alone. Butt naked.
I just want my trousers back.
I feel terrible.
I could at least
have offered you something.
A drink, a soup,
a waffle, a sandwich.
It doesn't matter, Ccile.
- Or even a blowjob.
I'm sorry?
- A blowjob.
I'm a passionate woman, you know.
A what?
- Passionate.
A passionate woman!
I send you my love.
I also send...
Hello?
Ccile? Hello?
The same color
applied by two different hands
will give two different tones.
For each painter creates his own medium
as his work progresses.
Renoir said
it's what gives the painting
this hesitation, this fragility
which is so crucial.
You're an artist?
What an odd question, Macha.
We are all artists.
Wouldn't you agree?
Here's another "odd" question.
What is it?
It's expressiveness.
Oh, really?
- Yes, really.
To me, it's a hedgehog.
So?
What did you teach your students?
Which subject?
I helped them put together
grant applications.
It's the most important thing.
Tell me, what do you see?
It's a hedgehog, isn't it?
Yes. Well spotted.
Very inspiring.
Thank you.
You're welcome.
Come back anytime.
It rains every two hours here!
Well, wait here until it calms down.
You think?
- I'm sure.
I love to paint when it rains.
There's nothing more comforting.
Really?
Why did you stop conceptual art?
I never stopped.
No, I know.
But, well...
I heard you were famous.
Then from one day to the next,
you stopped exhibiting.
Why?
Such is life, Bagnoule.
I had a difficult break-up.
Do you know I have a kid?
- Really?
Yes, a little girl.
Well, she must be all grown-up now.
One day, my wife left
and took her away from me.
She left far away. China.
Back then,
I was working on emptiness.
Boy, did I feel emptiness!
We've all experienced emptiness.
- Right, I'm off.
I'll get soaked anyway.
- See ya.
Thank you, Bagnoule.
Fuck. What shitty weather!
Ccile Fouasse de Mauprs.
Leave a message.
Ccile. This is Jean-Yves.
I've been trying to call you
for three days.
And no word from you.
So I've decided
to leave you a message.
Listen...
I need to talk to you.
I...
How can I say this?
I'll get there
through thick and thin!
Through thick and thin!
I'm sorry.
I got carried away.
No.
No! No! No!
Oh, fuck!
Oh, shit!
It slid!
It slid!
Oh, no! Fuck!
It slid. It truly...
- I'm not surprised.
I'm not surprised.
I know your house.
You know it?
- Of course.
I told you, you are in good hands.
Le Homet will sort it out.
Come on, let's have a drink.
Wait.
I'll see if No is decent.
I'll be right back.
Is this "Lommais" a real entrepreneur?
It's his job.
It's Le Homet.
"Le" and then "Homet".
Go ahead, repeat it.
Le Homet.
Yes, I get it.
Is he competent?
- Of course.
He's also an artist.
Look at this giraffe.
And that's a portrait of No.
Who is No?
The person Le Homet lives with.
Are you guys coming?
- Yes, we're coming, Le Homet.
Yes, it's that way.
Are you well?
- Hi.
How's it going?
OK.
- Have a seat.
Need a hand, Le Homet?
- No.
Hello, madam.
- Hi.
Jean-Yves Machond.
Is white wine OK?
Who is that?
- That's No
Oh, right. No.
Is she a lady?
Why?
Does that worry you?
- No, not at all!
But, um...
Your house had already slid.
Really?
- Yes, 15 years ago.
We have to check
if the pipes haven't suffered.
I assure you
the pipes are fine.
Well, if I may...
I put 15 meters of large pipes
to empty it all.
Like I said,
Le Homet will sort it out.
He'll give you a good price, right?
No.
- Yes. Machond is a friend.
And he's also an artist like us.
Yes, like you...
We don't have the same work.
Come on now!
Artists must stick together!
Very true.
He told me
your portrait of No was splendid.
Those were his words. Splendid.
- Yes.
I'm touched.
I'll take it.
But I still think
the architect is a moron.
No house foundations is stupid.
No. Be careful.
That architect,
"the moron" as you say,
is Georges Mouton.
He doesn't care about foundations.
You need to be daring in art,
especially in architecture.
"Blow all those clichs",
as Mr Mouton would say.
"Blow"...
I love this guy!
Really?
- I really do!
I'm delighted.
Thank you, Mr Le Homet.
To Georges Mouton!
Blow!
- Blow!
Pull over for a sec, will you?
Here is good.
Honestly, you could have gone
at Le Homet's.
Where is he off to?
What are you doing?
I'll never make it.
Damn.
A prostate issue?
No. If only I could get near it.
Even just a bit.
It's forbidden.
It says so on the sign.
I don't mean that.
I'm talking about that!
These colors, this grace, this beauty!
If only I was worthy
of painting them.
I don't understand you, Machond.
Why is that?
Why did you come here?
You told me to pull over to urinate.
What's the matter?
What's wrong?
I'm fine.
- No, you're not fine.
I am.
Get it off your chest.
Tell me.
No.
OK...
I'm a bit worried about my house.
Your house.
I can see that's not the only thing.
Talk to Bagnoule.
Tell me what's wrong with Machond.
Come on.
Tell me!
I know!
What?
- Machond is in love.
My poor friend.
- Yes, that's true.
She drives me crazy!
I had a feeling.
- You won't tell, will you?
No. This is just between us.
- Of course.
Nature! There is nothing like it!
It all comes from nature
and goes back to it. It resolves it all.
You see that little fly there?
It's a turnip root fly.
Delia floralis.
First, it lands on the turnip flower,
it collects a lubricating substance
that then enables it
to impregnate the female!
Nature is crazy!
Are you serious about the fly?
No, I'm joking.
I'm trying to make you laugh.
Look who's here.
Hi!
Hi!
- How are you?
I'm just passing through.
I'll be off.
Do you know Machond?
I can't remember.
We met here. But we didn't really
introduce ourselves.
Let me, then.
- Machond. Deborah.
Jean-Yves.
- Deborah. Machond.
Jean-Yves wanted to buy
one of your pebbles.
Really?
- No.
That's kind of you.
I have one here, actually.
A pocket pebble.
May I take a look?
- Yes, but...
Is it expensive?
- How much?
It's fifty euro.
- Fifty.
Mine isn't as nice as this one.
- Take it.
Take it.
- I'll make you another one.
Take it, really.
I can't afford it at the moment.
Keep it. I'd like you to.
Pay me later.
In exchange for the blue
you gave me.
Well, I'm off.
- Oh, yes, the blue!
She's very pretty, that kid...
It almost hurts.
- What does?
Well, she's an odd girl.
She speaks many languages.
She's practically homeless.
She travels all the time.
When she's here,
she works in the back.
I know. I've seen it.
- The boss is fine with it.
Ccile Fouasse even offered her
an exhibition.
Ccile? In her gallery?
- Yes.
Deborah declined.
Can you believe it?
That girl's got guts!
You did well
to buy her pebble.
No, I didn't buy it.
Come on, you did!
And it really helps her out.
- It helps her out.
I too need help!
I have a sliding house, remember?
You're a real pain!
It costs next to nothing!
I can't buy from her every time!
People are starting to notice.
I'll reimburse you, if you like.
No, it's fine.
- Here, keep it.
It'll bring you luck.
You think so?
- Yes.
Helping others brings luck.
It's true that it's pretty.
- It is.
No!
Stop!
Stop!
We have a huge problem!
I think something broke.
I heard a strange noise.
I think something came loose.
My God!
What is that stench?
It's horrible. What is that?
It's shit.
Shit?
The septic tank alone held the house.
Oh, my God!
Something must be done!
I'll come back with my guys,
but when...
In the meantime,
watch out for rats tonight.
Rats?
- Yes.
This is a real ordeal, Mr Homet!
A real ordeal!
I'm so disappointed!
The smell is even worse inside!
It's horrendous!
We're a little surprised.
Why choose a subject
of such conventional sentimentality?
The hedgehog.
Don't be fooled, dear friends.
It's not sentimental.
I've told you,
I've been working for years now
against the subject's dictate.
And you know that!
You should rather
ask yourselves why you won't allow
yourselves this freedom.
Maybe because you are no artist.
Be reasonable, Machond!
All it takes is
a bit of gouache painting, black pencil
and you have a hedgehog!
See? I allow myself
the long hedgehog.
The same way I allow myself
the square one.
That's it, Machond.
Madness! You paint like a maniac!
Who is it?
Ccile.
The back door was open.
What a lovely surprise.
- So?
You sent me a message.
I thought you would come by.
An unfortunate mishap.
I'm sorry.
I was very emotional.
I was shaking as I waited...
Really?
God, it stinks here!
Did you just shit, Machond?
No. Not just now.
I've got problems with the drains.
I'll light an incense paper.
- Yes, please.
Perfect.
Here, I brought you this.
A nice bottle of port.
By Jove!
You spoil me!
You pour us a glass of port
while I discover
the alchemist's studio.
You know,
I've never been in this house before.
It's a shame to visit it
with this disgusting stench.
You paint pussies too, now?
No, they're not pussies.
They're hedgehogs.
Hedgehogs?
Hi.
Hi.
Be careful.
They're numbered.
Sorry.
Shall we toast?
To your visit.
Cheers.
Delicious.
How can you drink something so sweet
with this smell?
I'm really sorry.
So, Jean-Yves.
Hedgehogs.
- I imagine this surprises you.
A bit.
I decided
to go beyond the subject, you see?
It want the subject
to be both validated,
the subject being
the hedgehog of course,
and put out of play
because of its reproduction.
You understand?
Validated and put out of play.
We talked about it last time,
at the exhibition.
I no longer want the subject's dictate.
Therefore, there is no subject.
They're pussies, Jean-Yves.
Thousands of pussies.
You painted this for me.
All these pussies.
I don't really know
what's happening to me. I...
I come and visit an artist
in the middle of the night...
I don't know him.
No one knows I'm here.
No one?
- No one.
Absolutely no one?
- No one.
An artist who paints pussies.
I can't. Not with this smell.
No way.
I need some fresh air.
- But...
Hang on a...
- I think I'm gonna be sick.
Hang on, maybe we can...
- No.
... go for a stroll outside, maybe.
You don't agree?
Go back to your hedgehogs,
you pig!
For goodness sake, Ccile!
I have feelings!
Get lost!
No! No! Not now!
Shit!
It's funny, you're leaving a big smudge
where the sexual organ should be.
It looks like a cloud.
- Yes.
Is that on purpose?
- Yes.
I see the sexual organ
as an outdated concept.
At a time when people ask questions
about gender,
I'd say it's almost
a reactionary theme.
The right, or the far right.
I'm sorry to tell you this.
Who am I
to impose a sex on someone else?
Can't you see
which sex Sylvia is?
Honestly? No.
No. I'm against the idea
that we are able to see that.
That's crazy.
- Yes.
I'm a woman.
Are you sure of that, Sylvia?
Society has brainwashed you
for centuries
and says you are a woman.
But...
Maybe it's time
to ask the real questions.
I'm very serious.
- I see that.
You're so cute
when you're serious, Jean-Yves.
You make us laugh.
- Laugh?
Among the great apes...
Would you come to Brussels with me?
The day after tomorrow?
Yes, yes.
Dear friends.
I'm off to Brussels.
No! What about the house
and the repair work?
You're moving back to Brussels?
No.
Just a business trip.
See you in front of the coach station.
Leaving at midday.
Hello? Ccile.
Yes, my love.
I was wondering about you.
No, it's me.
No.
- Hey! It's Bagnoule!
I recognized your breathing, you idiot.
What do you want?
I was busy working.
I wanted
to invite you to dinner tonight.
No. Tomorrow, I get up at dawn,
I have to be in shape.
Come on!
My cousin brought me capons!
I cook them
with truffles and foie gras.
Isn't foie gras banned?
- No. Not yet. Come on!
OK. Fine. I need to relax.
I'm warning you,
I won't go to bed at ungodly hours.
Sorry, Bagnoule, I have to go.
What are you doing
with a frying pan?
Were you planning on cooking?
- Yes.
I'm sorry.
You startled me.
I was gonna fry
a few mushrooms.
Will you have a bite with me, Claude?
- No, thank you.
Call me Pilou.
It's easier.
OK.
Do you fancy a drink?
That's funny.
I have exactly the same port at home.
What a coincidence, isn't it?
That's not why I'm here.
I have a favour to ask you.
Yes, with pleasure.
Would you accompany my wife
to Brussels?
So...
In short...
I'll get straight to the point.
I no longer trust my wife.
Ccile?
- Yes. I bet my life that
she's cheating on me.
That she has a lover.
By Jove!
By Jove!
You said it!
What makes you say that?
Because I've noticed...
This is very intimate.
That she's...
She's getting excited again.
"Excited", you mean...
Yes.
- Sexually? That's none of my business.
That's not the point.
- No.
Will you accompany her?
Yes or no?
Yes, but...
I'll explain it to her.
Don't worry about that.
I need a periscope.
You get what I'm saying?
And that's what I expect from you.
I need to know what she's up to!
Who she's with. In total discretion.
A periscope to look at the surface.
Got it.
But what makes you think
he's from Brussels?
He's not from around here!
I know everyone here.
It's very small here.
FYI, I'm Belgian, you know.
You're joking?
- I'm serious.
I wouldn't tell.
No, because I erased it,
I smoothed it out.
So I could blend in more easily.
You understand?
- It's true, you have no accent.
But believe me when I say this.
If he lives here
and I come across him...
He's in for a rough time.
I'll smash his fucking face in!
I think he had enou...
Until all his teeth fall out.
And after that?
- I'll take care of his balls.
His balls?
It's really weighing on you, huh?
One last thing
I also wanted to tell you.
We'll play it old-school.
"Old-school"?
- She's going to call you,
but I was never here.
We never saw each other.
I get it.
- You never heard a thing.
We never had this talk.
Understood?
- Understood. OK.
By the way,
I think your work is stunning.
Really? You like it?
- Yes. I'll buy two of your pussies.
They can't be worth much.
They're hedgehogs.
Call them whatever you want.
If that turns you on.
Look, because you're a friend,
it's 3,000 euro each.
I would have paid 1,500 for both.
- Deal for 1,500 for both then.
That seems fairer to me.
- Yes.
Could I ask your for a small advance?
I'm in a bit of a pickle.
- You artists are all the same!
Big rats!
This is all I have on me.
Here, take it.
Trust, my friend.
What do you have in the word "trust"?
"Us"?
- No, "Hush".
And in "Hush", you have?
- "Shh"?
Now you get it!
Bye, Pilou.
Jean-Yves?
What are you doing here?
- I had a meeting with pebbles.
Look? See?
Were you out walking?
- Yes.
Shall we walk together?
- OK.
You know it's forbidden
to pick up any pebbles at the Parthenon?
It's seen as theft.
They say there'd be nothing left,
without that.
That would perhaps be better.
Tabula rasa.
They're just old stones.
Why did you turn down the exhibition?
Because it's Ccile's gallery
or because you don't want to exhibit?
It's neither.
I don't want that.
No gallery, no exhibition, no curator.
I don't want any of that.
- Then you won't sell anything!
Yes, I will. Even to you.
- Yes...
Listen to me.
What you are doing...
is very good.
It's very strong.
It's honest, simple and real.
Even if I refuse
to be dictated by "beauty".
I know.
- That is no laughing matter.
It's dramatic
to deal with beauty, you know.
It's tragic.
Because people rank values.
You have the beautiful and the ugly.
Acceptable - outdated.
Original - banal.
Enough of that.
But why do you do
what you do?
What's the...
The concept?
- Yes, the concept. I don't get it.
I think I'm looking for a way through.
A way through... to what?
To eternity.
But if you don't exhibit...
You don't exist.
Have you ever exhibited?
Me? How should I put it.
It's more complex.
Personally,
I'm against the principle, the concept
of exhibiting, exhibitor...
But, yes, I've done it.
So you exist?
Well spotted!
I'm lost for words.
Are you going to Bagnoule's tonight?
- I am.
Let's go together?
- With pleasure.
But I've got to head back home to pack.
I'm off to Brussels tomorrow.
- I know.
How do you know that?
You've painted thousands of hedgehogs!
They're almost all the same.
No.
You see, Deborah...
It's the principle of repetition
that makes the hedgehog interesting.
Because a hedgehog in itself
is not very important.
Not very important?
Yes. I could have painted a cigarette butt,
spit, a condom...
It doesn't matter.
It's in repetition as an act
that I question
what I made visible.
Tell me you're not serious?
- Of course I'm serious. Be careful.
They're numbered.
- Who's that? Your daughter?
Yes.
How did you know?
She looks a bit like you.
You think so?
Her name is Jia-Li.
She was four years old.
She must be twenty now.
Her mother went to live in China.
She is a great lover of oriental art.
In fact,
she left me for a Chinese man.
Jia-Li in Chinese means
"good and beautiful".
Yes, that's right.
How do you know that?
I speak a little Chinese.
Do you now?
Look.
She sent it to me.
I know it's her
because she signed Jia-Li. See?
But I can't understand
the Chinese part.
"We'll get to know one another.
There's still time."
The postcard is from Qingdao.
It's a big city in China.
See?
By the seaside.
But how does she know
where I am?
The Chinese know everything.
You think so?
But in your opinion,
what should I do?
Wait.
May I ask a question?
- How come I speak Chinese?
For instance.
- Intriguing.
Yes, because you're puzzling.
I'm sorry but I...
What if we left it all vague?
What if we refrained
from putting adjectives right now?
What if, for once,
we took it as it is?
Yes, you're right.
It's a good concept, isn't it?
- It's an excellent one.
A liberating concept?
We could say a liberating one...
- Come on, let's go.
Did you know that today,
I sold two of my pieces.
To whom?
A collector.
Well done!
- Anything is possible!
This deserves a toast!
Well done!
To Machond!
- Bottoms up!
Bottoms up!
He is one of us
He sold his paintings
Like the others.
You agree that we're all artists?
- Yes, more or less.
I think there will be
more and more of us.
You have at least
one or two artists per family.
Just as there used to be
a doctor, a vicar, a soldier, a lawyer.
So what will we do
with all these artists?
Have you thought of that?
We'll have to rethink
the status of art.
Art will become organic,
epidermal, internal.
What are you on about, Machond?
- It will!
And your hedgehogs?
- What?
They're fine the way they are.
- That's very kind.
I don't paint. I never have.
I don't paint anymore.
I paint the idea of painting. Get it?
You must ask yourself that question.
Rambling.
A little calvados, anyone?
See you tomorrow, darling.
Did I hear "calvados"?
Give it here.
- Haven't you had enough to drink?
No. Pour him a glass.
It's well-known
that all artists can hold their drink.
Oh, shit!
Bagnoule?
And dress nicely.
Oh, shit!
Machond!
What on earth is that?
You look dreadful! What happened?
There was a party at Bagnoule's...
It's a bit long to explain.
Can we stop at my place
so I can change?
We can't. We're already very late.
Do you mind driving? I hate driving.
You mean the car?
Aren't we going by coach?
By coach? Are you crazy?
Can you see me taking a coach?
But I've already bought a ticket.
You're very nice
but sometimes you're embarrassing!
Come on, let's go!
You're right.
Tomorrow then?
OK. Tomorrow.
I don't know. I'll think about it.
You're mean.
See you tomorrow.
See you tomorrow.
I had to throw up
in the latrines.
Bagnoule made capon yesterday.
God, it was so rich.
He's a nice guy
but he cooks like a Soviet.
You are gorgeous, my love.
Where will all this take us?
Jean-Yves, your breath stinks!
Here, have a mint.
That's possible because...
I have allergies, so...
No, but... Go ahead.
- OK.
Take more than one.
Well, now that I have
an empty stomach,
I'm a little hungry.
Shall we stop
at a nice little restaurant?
No stopping now. We'll do that tonight
in a charming hotel.
Well, no.
That's absurd.
Brussels is only 500 km away.
No need to stop.
I don't like long drives.
Must I explain myself all the time?
It's a real pain.
Come on, let's go!
OK.
A little romantic stop over.
I can be such a fool sometimes.
Adventure here we come!
Here is your card and your key.
Thank you.
- The other room is for Mr Machond.
Can you settle it, Jean-Yves?
- Yes, of course.
Do you take cash?
- Of course.
Will you book us a table for 7 pm?
I'm going to rest in my room.
OK.
But don't you fancy a walk outside?
I'm exhausted. I'm going to rest.
Do what you like.
OK, Ccile.
Your room is not ready yet.
We have a lovely garden
if you'd like to wait there.
That's 122 euro, please.
That was nice. Very nice.
I feel good, Jean-Yves.
I think I feel free.
I've rarely felt so free.
To get back
to the concept of your new gallery...
We've talked a lot
about the gallery,
why don't we go for a walk
in the garden?
I feel like stretching my legs.
Have a nice evening.
Thank you.
Have a nice evening.
Sometimes at night,
I feel like a wolf.
This was one of the loveliest evenings
of my life!
You're such an amazing woman.
So close and yet so far.
Le diffrent diffrent.
Yes.
Le diffrent diffrent.
Your conceptual idea
for my gallery.
I like it. It's very interesting.
It could be like...
a kind of underlying flow.
A rhizome.
And so relevant to today!
- Of course.
However,
I still have the same question.
Shouldn't it be translated into English?
Yes.
Because , diffrent diffrent...
I'm a bit cold.
Shall we go inside?
There. Good. No more.
These days, I'm not...
Off to bed now.
We're leaving early tomorrow. Go.
Good night, Jean-Yves.
Be sensible.
Ccile.
Let me lie down beside you.
I'll be the shadow of your shadow.
The shadow of your hand.
The shadow of your dog.
Jacques Brel, right?
Yes, it's Jacques Brel.
Really, Jean-Yves!
We're not even in Belgium yet!
Hello, Mr Machond.
This is reception here.
Yes?
It's midday.
You had to free the room for 11 am.
Oh, shit!
It's midday?
It's 12:12 pm.
Have you seen Mrs Fouasse?
- Mrs Fouasse? She left.
No. That's impossible.
- She did. She left very early.
Your bill for the minibar!
One second, please, madam.
Hello? Ccile?
- Did you sleep well, darling?
Yes. I'm sorry I overslept...
Where are you?
- In Brussels.
In Brussels? No.
Ccile, I...
That can't be!
I'm here.
In the hotel car park
with my rolling suitcase.
I'm waiting for you. What are you doing?
Come here. What am I to do?
No. Don't bore me with reality.
You're hurting me.
I'm sorry, Ccile.
I didn't get what you said.
Bore you with what?
Hello? Hello?
Ccile Fouasse de Mauprs.
Leave a message.
The bill for the minibar.
- Yes.
I had a beer.
- Yes.
He had everything.
Even the liqueurs and chocolates.
That's 69.50 euro.
In cash?
I'd forgotten. Hmm?
- Cash?
Yes, cash.
- Great.
I have to go to Brussels.
Where is the nearest train station?
There haven't been any trains in ages!
Try Daumiane.
It's 50 km from here.
Daumiane?
How do I get there?
How do I get to the station?
By coach.
- By coach. OK.
But you have to hurry
to catch the last one.
OK.
Thank you.
- Have a nice day, sir.
Wait for me!
Wait for me!
Yes? Ccile?
Oh, Pilou!
No!
I thought it was Ccile.
She's in the lavatories
so I thought she might have a problem.
No. Everything is fine.
We had to stop yesterday
because she was unwell.
It was a lovely little inn.
Yes, she was a bit... That's it.
I wouldn't have put it like that.
That's it.
No, she didn't mention a lover.
No. Rest assured.
I'd know about it.
No. She talked a lot
about her new gallery.
But she didn't mention a lover.
Don't you worry, Mr Pilou.
I'm keeping an eye on her.
I'll keep you posted.
Yes. Talk to you soon.
Shit! Shit!
Is everything OK, sir?
- No, everything is not OK!
I'm walking.
I'm allowed to, aren't I?
I do as I please.
And now backwards.
It's a concept.
And forwards again.
One. Two. Three.
Four. Five.
It's a concept
That's the way I walk.
But it's a concept
that's beyond you!
And backwards again.
And forwards again.
Show me your ID, sir.
No, sir.
I'm not obliged to do so.
Show it to me.
- No. I'm Jean-Yves Machond. Period.
Good. Show it to me.
- No. Why would I do that?
I'm in a forest.
I have the right to take a stroll!
Am I bothering someone?
No, I'm not!
Stop shouting.
- Don't lay a hand on me!
No police violence!
It's not.
- Yes, it is! Watch out!
Black Lives!
- What...
Black Lives Matter!
Nice try!
Jacky!
Come and help me. Enough!
He's crazy!
- Help me, people of the forest!
There you go.
- My suitcase!
I'll get it.
Watch your head.
Watch your head.
- Bastards! My suitcase!
Thank you.
Where is the Gendarmerie?
Because, to be honest with you,
I'd like to get closer to Daumiane.
Are you OK?
- I'm OK.
You've calmed down now?
I feel better.
I'm sorry.
You no longer hear
the insurrection rising?
Justice for George Floyd?
- No.
You're feeling OK?
- Yes.
I'm not Gring?
Gring? No.
Or Goebbels?
Nor him.
You look more like Che...
Guevara.
You're free to go.
Just like that?
Thank you.
Can I ask you something?
How do I get to Le Trport
by public transport?
First, can I give you
a piece of advice?
A piece of advice?
Gladly. I'm all ears.
You should learn to shut up.
TABULA RASA!
FAREWELL, POOR LOSER
Do you know
what they do to wolves?
Sorry?
Do you know
what they do to wolves?
No.
- They miniaturize them.
That's true.
Someone told me so.
They make them
smaller and smaller?
I have one here.
A wolf that wants to get out.
I can hear it.
Can you hear it?
No.
Listen.
Can you hear it?
Yes.
The hospital wanted to remove it
but I refused.
In the current climate
it's too dangerous.
I understand.
Do you have a wolf, too?
No.
No, I don't.
I have a daughter.
But...
I have nothing left.
Sorry.
Sorry. I'm sorry.
It'll be OK.
I'm sorry.
- That's OK.
Well, there's your wolf.
Look. There.
The pebble?
Thank you.
Fuck!
What the hell?
Oh, my God!
Fuck!
Are you OK, Machond?
I'm OK, Pilou.
I know about Ccile.
Listen,
I'll explain everything.
I know.
I know everything.
A Belgian osteopath.
He's from Brussels.
That idiot came here
to give a stupid shamanism course.
That's in the past now.
It's over.
You didn't see anything, right?
You'd have told me?
Of course, Pilou.
Of course I'd have told you.
An osteopath?
Belgian.
I have your money.
I owed you 2,000
for the two pussies.
The two pussies?
Oh! The hedgehogs.
Unfortunately,
I'm in the middle of burning them.
Yes, I quit.
Yes, I quit, Pilou.
You quit?
- I quit drawing,
painting, cinema, literature.
I'm done with all that.
You also did cinema and literature?
Well, yes.
- I didn't know.
Perhaps it's for the best...
You think so?
You gave me way too much here...
Keep it.
You need it more than I do.
Here. I still have Macha's painting.
Don't you want it?
What's that doing here?
I threw it out the window.
Yes, that's true.
I don't want it.
Shall I get you a Blue Sky?
- Sorry?
Shall I get you a Blue Sky?
No. Not today.
Do you know
where Deborah is?
She left.
Left? Where?
- Far away, I think.
But she always comes back
at some point.
Two weeks, three months.
You never know.
Do you have a pen?
Could you give this to her?
In person?
I bought a piece from her.
I owed her money.
You can count on me.
Thank you.
If you see Bagnoule...
Could you give him this?
Of course.
- Thank you.
Have a nice day.
Yes? Hello?
No. Sorry, I'm busy right now.
No, I'm back,
but I'm not staying long. Yes.
What?
No! When?
Oh, shit!
I'll be right there!
Yes. It's me again.
I don't know where that is.
Oh, shit.
Machond.
Thank you for coming.
My God! What happened?
A dizzy spell. I don't know.
He was working on his giraffe.
He fell off his ladder.
He's been in a coma since yesterday.
Even with a 2016 Chambertin,
he won't respond.
Come on, Bagnoule.
In such a state,
you don't think about Grands Crus.
You think?
- Yes. Where is his wife?
No?
- Yes, No.
No is not his wife.
Yes... But shh.
I'm sure he's listening
and he can hear us.
You think he can hear us?
- Of course.
Shit.
Listen...
- What?
Maybe I could talk to him.
When I talk to people,
I don't know why,
I always have an effect on them.
Maybe I can...
It's funny, I noticed it.
It's an odd thing.
You have a thing.
You see?
- Yes.
Give it a try.
I'm off because...
- You must be exhausted.
I haven't slept a wink.
Thank you, Machond.
Thank you so much.
Bye.
What to say at the bedside
of a dying artist?
I do not know.
Dear Le Homet.
It's very likely...
you will perish.
How unfortunate.
But in a way...
I envy you.
Because you are leaving
a world...
full of idiots.
Being an artist is a misery.
You didn't realize it,
but I am too lucid.
Your work was unusual.
A bit crude.
Without any aesthetics.
Wild.
Sometimes clumsy, but...
But very real.
I had opted for
the avant-garde high-speed train.
What a joke!
You were naive, Le Homet.
But it was your strength.
It's so rare these days.
You were beautiful...
I mean handsome. Sorry.
You knew how to live.
You lived life to the fullest.
Eggs and bacon.
Stuffed cabbage.
Mushrooms that make you fart.
Bordeaux wines.
How you loved them so!
On the other hand, I...
I was content
with a few pages of James Joyce.
An article in Les Cahiers du Cinma.
A bit of noise music.
A half-tone conversation
with a cultivated Parisian woman.
That's what I'd miss if I was dying.
But I'm not dying, you are.
You have to look death in the face.
But I wanted to say farewell.
Farewell and above all...
Thank you, Le Homet.
You opened my eyes,
you made me understand...
that I was wrong.
Yes.
I wanted to paint...
But what on earth could I paint?
You were the artists.
You.
Deborah. Bagnoule.
Macha.
You were the guardians of memory.
Vigils.
In this new land of the blind,
you are the one-eyed guardians
of the beauty of the world.
Shut up! Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up forever!
Forever.
Shut up and let me die!
- I'll let you die.
Yes.
- Yes.
Good God, he's alive!
He's awake!
You have to listen to the world.
That way, you'll see it better.
Good job, though.
Bagnoule, look! A seagull!
How nice!
You see, Machond,
beauty is not over yet.
Jean-Yves!
You have a video call.
You coming?
I'm coming
Deborah?
My God!
Hi!
Are you well?
Yes. I was painting.
We created a small team.
With Bagnoule, Macha
and the others.
Mouton's Painting Painting.
In English.
What about you?
Where have you been?
I'm calling from Qingdao. In China.
Qingdao?
I'll pass you your daughter.