The heroine smiles wildly and other things

Terrill 2022-05-27 14:57:45

The whole story is actually that a female writer who has a relationship with a bookseller went to the bookseller’s villa to write on vacation in France. After hearing the bookseller mention her daughter, after going to the villa, she began to fall into a reverie and write a suspense inspired by the bookseller’s daughter. There is no Julie nor murder in the French villa. Everything is her novel. The fictional and boring life makes her suppress the inner turbulence and lust.

Several shots show the contrast of the heroine:

1) Grey, black and beige dress

2) The subway meets readers and fans are arrogant and indifferent

3) Go shopping for melon tomatoes and yogurt on holiday

4) After passing the wine place, take a look and leave

5) The waiter in the restaurant recommended her several wines but she refused to order coffee in the end

The fantasy of Julie is actually the true cast of the heroine's heart. Julie is unrestrained, simple, and perverse. The transformation of the heroine after encountering Julie is in contrast with the previous time in the UK:

1) Tired of yogurt breakfast and went to eat sweets

2) Lively to the male service of the coffee shop

3) Start smoking and drinking

4) Drinking and eating foie gras (I didn’t eat julie secretly, I actually bought it myself)

5) When you finally showed the book to the bookseller, the bookseller explained how your style became so ambiguous and abstract and there was no fight.

As for the waiter who died in the restaurant, in fact, the female writer didn’t have anything to do with him. It’s just a desire to kill the waiter. The plot that she thought was going to kill the waiter. The same gardener was another projection of her lust.

Why is Julie in the French villa a fantasy character of the female writer herself? Because in the end she left the bookseller’s office and saw the real bookseller’s daughter with a strange smile that shows that she knows everything.

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Extended Reading

Swimming Pool quotes

  • Julie: [sauntering over to Sarah's lounge chair, bikini bottom without the top, long legs, bare breasts, charming raw European accent] You not too hot?

    [the older woman wakes up, startled]

    Julie: Sorry I woke you up.

    Sarah Morton: [composing herself] No.

    [sitting up]

    Sarah Morton: I was just dozing.

    Julie: [soft laugh, casually sitting down flat next to Sarah's deck chair, not at all mindful of her lack of dress] You must be working too hard. You should take a swim in the pool. The water is cold. It will wake you up.

    Sarah Morton: Ah, well, thank you for your advice, but I absolutely loathe swimming pools.

    Julie: Yeah, I know what you mean. I prefer the sea too. The ocean,

    [smiling fondly]

    Julie: the crashing waves, that feeling of danger that you could loose footing and be swept away... Pools are boring, there's no excitement, its just a big bathtub.

    Sarah Morton: [coldly summing up] It's more like a cesspool of living bacteria.

    Julie: [looking back, clearly more optimistic about life] Oh that? No, it's just a bit of dirt and leaves.

    [Sarah nods, unconvinced, set in her ways]

    Julie: So, what are you writing? A romance novel?

    Sarah Morton: [smirks at the very thought] God, no, I write crime fiction.

    Julie: Oh, yeah.

    [disapprovingly:]

    Julie: That's how he makes his money.

    Sarah Morton: [haughtily] And that's how he can afford to buy a beautiful house in France for his daughter to enjoy.

    Julie: [slight frown, reminded of her status as Daddy's girl] What about you? Are your books selling well?

    Sarah Morton: [grimly] I can't complain.

    Julie: [chummily] What is this one about?

    Sarah Morton: [as if to quell her enthusiasm by pouring cold water over her] Murders. And the police investigation.

    Julie: [giggling] In the Luberon? With rich English stories?

    Sarah Morton: [her impatience now all-out] Listen, if you don't mind, I do have work to do.

    Julie: Okay! I leave you alone, Miss Marple. I need to make some phone calls anyway.

    [walks off, her wedge heels clattering, leaving Sarah to the emptiness of her departure]

  • Julie: [in French; subtitled] AHH! You scared me!

    Sarah Morton: [in French] Who are you? What are you doing in my house?

    Julie: [in French] Your house? This is my house! I should be asking you.

    [short pause; now speaking English]

    Julie: Are you English?

    Sarah Morton: [in English] That's correct. I'm Sarah Morton, I'm a writer and my publisher, John Bosload, is letting me have this house.

    Julie: Ah, so you're Daddy's latest conquest.

    Sarah Morton: You're his daughter?

    Julie: So what? He didn't say I was coming?

    Sarah Morton: No, he didn't tell me you were coming.

    Julie: I'm not surprised. Is he here?

    Sarah Morton: No, I'm here on my own and I'm here to work, and not expecting visitors.

    Julie: [lights a cigarette] So he's not here.

    Sarah Morton: Are you going to be staying long?

    Julie: I don't know. I don't have much work these days. So, which bedroom did you take?

    Sarah Morton: The one upstairs overlooking the pool.

    Julie: Of course. That's the best one. Well, I better unpack.