"Last Tango in Paris" screenplay
Text/[Italy] B. Bertolucci, F. Alcali
Translation/Hu Rong
1. Exterior view, Via Jules Verne, during the day
At the beginning of the film, the camera moved with a man. The man walked firmly under a magnificent bridge. He looked around, and cursed a swear word at the passing train above his head.
Man: ...Fuck you God!
It was a morning in January, and it was the rush hour of traffic coming and going. However, this street does not appear to be busy, and even a lazy breath can be felt.
A car drove by. This is almost an exception.
The man's eyes hurriedly passed over the buildings on both sides of the street: the stone verandah, the windows with curtains, the facade of the beautiful house-all are typical of beautiful ancient buildings.
There were footsteps, but the sidewalk in front of him was empty, and there was no one behind him. This is the sound of his own footsteps.
It is strange to hear my own footsteps in a big city.
Then something quite normal, even very general, happened, but it was something very special for this person at this moment: an illusion—a figure of a woman, nothing else. But for him-it is indeed an illusion.
She turned from a corner and walked towards him along the sidewalk on the same side. She looked around, because of curiosity and boredom.
The man and woman are about twenty feet apart. They are the only lives on this street. They looked at each other.
She has thick, light-colored hair and two long legs exposed under her mini skirt.
He didn't wear a tie or shave, and his coat was wrapped around him like a bag.
The distance between them quickly shortened. The young woman quickened her pace. She sometimes looked down at her feet, and sometimes looked up at the wall on the left, seeming a little shy and a little annoyed. Why?
Because she knew that he was staring at her intently; because she knew that he slowed down in order to take care of her more carefully, and continued to study her figure and face without shame.
Something caught her attention: it was a notice posted by the door of a house. The girl read: "The fifth floor is rented out."
She hesitated to check her watch, and then looked out into the street. The man was gone. There is a bar not far in front. The girl walked in.
2. Interior view. A bar on the avenue Jules Verne, during the day
The girl walked down the steps into the basement.
Girl: I want to use the phone.
Bartender: Down, left.
Someone is using the phone in the telephone room. She bought a number plate from the waiter in the ladies' bathroom and waited impatiently.
The door of the telephone room opened. Standing inside was the man she saw in the street. The girl stepped back, to make way for him, and of course to avoid his gaze. However, the distance between the two of them is so close that their eyes will inevitably meet.
His blank gaze stayed on her face for a moment, as if he didn't see her or recognize her. But this is only a moment. He went up the steps and then disappeared.
The door of the telephone room was open. We can hear her voice.
Girl: Mom, hello. It's me, Jenny. There is a house in Passy. I plan to check it out before picking Tom up at the train station. I promised to pick him up. And... yes... I will go home. See you later. Kiss you, goodbye.
3. Interior view. Gatekeeper's room, stairway, day
The girl came out of the dark and walked to the steps in front of a house. On the opposite side of the old iron cage elevator, you can see a wooden door with square through holes. This is the gatekeeper's room.
The girl saw a fat old lady. She has shiny, untidy gray hair. She is reading? This is really incomprehensible.
Girl: I came to see the house. I saw the notice.
The gatekeeper turned his head slightly. She wore a pair of grey-framed glasses and looked at the girl with no expression or interest. Her head seemed to be buried in her shoulders.
Gatekeeper: Notice? No one has ever told me about it.
Girl: I want to see that suite room.
Gatekeeper: Do you want to rent?
Girl: I don't know yet.
All signs indicate that the old lady has no interest in girls.
Gatekeeper: They rent, sublet, do whatever they want, and I always know all this until the end. Do you have a cigarette?
The girl opened the small handbag and passed a box of freshly opened cigarettes through the small window. The old lady took the pack of cigarettes, lit one, and started smoking. The remaining cigarettes were hidden in her pocket.
Gatekeeper: There was no such smoke before. If you want to go upstairs, please do it, but you can only go alone, I'm afraid of mice.
She turned to face a plank. Several keys hang on the nails on the wooden board. She is looking for the one she needs.
Gatekeeper: The key is gone. Not here. Strange things are always constant.
She took a deep breath of cigarette. Smoke floated from her nostrils. The old man looked dumb, as if trapped in this deep niche for centuries.
A door opened suddenly-this was the door by the stairs. An empty bottle and a hand appeared. The old lady heard the sound of the bottle touching the floor, and picked up the bottle without even looking.
Gatekeeper: They drink six bottles a day.
The girl has waited too long. She turned around to leave. At this time, the old lady stopped her.
Gatekeeper: Please wait a moment, don't go. There should be a spare here.
She opened the small cabinet under a long stool fixed on the wall and fumbled in the cabinet like a blind person.
Gatekeeper: That's it.
She stared at the key in her palm and did not give it to the girl. Then she finally passed the key. When handing the keys to the girl, the old lady suddenly grabbed the girl's hand. This is just a momentary action. The old lady immediately let go of her hand.
Gatekeeper: You are very young, right?
Girl (talking to herself): A madman.
4. Interior view. A dwelling. daytime
In order to see the dark aisle clearly, the girl left the door open. She stood in the gloomy front hall, imagining the location of the living room. The morning sun shines into the house through several large windows. The shutters were ajar. She took a few steps towards the middle of the room. The weather is good and the spacious rooms give a pleasant impression.
She turned around. Her eyes scanned the windows, bright walls, and high ceilings; then, she looked at the four walls of the house.
Girl: Who is there?
She almost yelled.
A figure was faintly reflected on the wall opposite the window.
This is the man on the street and in the telephone room. She has met him twice. He leaned his back against the wall and stared at her. The girl stood in front of him, and the window behind her brightened her figure.
Girl (smiling): I was really scared. How did you come in?
Man: Entered from the door.
Girl: Look how stupid I am. I left the door open, but didn't hear you come in.
Man: I am already here.
Girl: What?
Man: Before you came...I was already here.
He dangled the key before her eyes. She finally understood, but she was still suspicious.
Girl: Oh, the key. Well, you took it.
She held her key in her hand, and then she put the key in her handbag.
Girl: It seems that I have to pay a bribe to the gatekeeper... This kind of old house is really charming.
She looked around carefully and estimated the space of the house with a practical eye.
Girl: You can put a chair by the fireplace.
Man: No, it's better to put the chair beside the window.
He is in another room. Several old newspapers were scattered on the ground. There are also several empty wine bottles on the floor. An old desk with only three legs swayed against the wall. He wants to make it more stable. Of course, this is only a temporary balance, but it is a balance after all. He stopped the game, and the desk returned to its original state. The missing leg has never existed, or only in the traces it left on the floor. The light of day filled the gaps in the wall. The whole house is filled with the breath of the old life, the breath of the former residents.
Girl (outside the picture, loudly): You have an American accent... Do you want to rent this house?
Man: How about you?
Girl: I don't know.
Through an empty picture frame, she is also imagining the past life in this house.
Girl: What are you doing?
Man: This is part of the room...like a gift.
He leaned out of the window, wanting to see the figure of the girl reflected in the window of the next room. He saw her shadow. She stood quietly, rubbing her neck. Later, her eyes moved to his shadow.
Girl: Interesting, who has lived here? It seems that this house has been empty for a long time.
He continued to examine her. To avoid his gaze, she walked away.
There are two telephones on the floor of this house, and there are some things that the former residents could not take away. There are two old sinks in the bathroom, and a large kitchen is equipped with gas pipes.
The man and girl wandered about in this house, immersed in a fruitless search. Their routes intersect each other from time to time, from room to room, as if turning a blind eye to each other.
The phone rang. She was in the bedroom, and he was in the living room, both picked up the receiver.
Girl: Do I want to answer?
Man: Hey...no, it's too late. I rented it out.
The other party said sorry and hung up the phone.
The girl is still holding a receiver in her hand. Now, when there was only a short distance between them, she wanted to talk to him. However, she remained silent. He heard her slightly intensified heartbeat on the other side of the line. She also felt his breathing and his presence. He carefully put the receiver on the ground. Then he walked into the bedroom door and caught the girl off guard. She also put the receiver on her ear and squatted on the ground.
When she saw him, she immediately put down the receiver apologetically. To conceal her embarrassment, she began to talk hastily.
Girl: So, have you decided? Decided to rent?
Man: Yes... It's decided... Now I don't know... Do you like it?
She wanted to stand up. He took her hand and helped her stand up. Their hands did not let go. This is a kind of contact, a kind of contact that they had avoided before. Their fingers began to perceive each other, and they confided everything to each other in this long-lasting moment. Later they each released each other.
Girl: I have to think about it.
Man: Please think about it quickly.
Her eyes followed him, watching him disappear outside the door. She heard his footsteps through the corridor, and then the sound of the door closing. Probably he is gone. But when she was about to leave, she suddenly saw him again.
Girl: I thought you were gone.
Man: I went to close the door.
She couldn't bear his gaze, so she turned her back to him and stood silently. This seems to be a promise, but at the same time it is a rejection.
The man suddenly hugged her from behind. The two of them fell to the ground looking for each other. His body became part of her body. Their lips touched and joined each other softly, biting each other tightly, suddenly tense and unnatural, and suddenly slack and soft.
They make love frantically, looking for all kinds of opportunities that don't exist under their clothes. The two of them entangled each other like dogs.
Later, they lay down for a while-because they were exhausted by the other side's manipulation.
She stood up. He watched her disappear into the bathroom.
He finally smoothed out his crumpled clothes and combed his tousled hair. He slowly sorted himself out, listening to the sound of the shower coming from the bathroom.
5. Interior/exterior scenery. Stairway, street, daytime
Now the girl is standing at the stairway waiting for the elevator. The door of the house opened, and then he walked out. When he closed the door, the elevator came. They both seemed calm and courteous. He walked down the stairs while she took the elevator. They inevitably met on the first floor, but walked out of the building blindly to each other. It seemed that both of them were obviously embarrassed.
Going down the steps, she went to the right, and he went to the left. For Jenny and Paul, these are two directions, two different paths. Jenny and Paul-these are their names.
6. Location. Saint-Nazaire train station, daytime
Jenny hurried on the way. At the entrance of the train station, she jumped out of the taxi. There are several flyovers leading to the platform by the gate of the station. A train had arrived at the station about a few minutes ago.
Jenny squeezed among the oncoming crowd, shoving between the stevedores and the boxes. She looked at the faces, as if looking for someone.
Her expression was so tense and focused, she didn't even find the three people behind her.
One of the three is a photographer. His eyes are close to a 16mm camera, and the other is a sound engineer. He is carrying a tape recorder, wearing headphones, and holding a microphone. He is squeezing in the crowd to record the noise from the station; there is another one. The name is assistant.
Jenny stopped suddenly. She stood on tiptoe and waved to someone quickly, but then flexed around the crowd and ran forward. We can't see who she is waving to. Now, when she had walked in front of him, we still couldn't see his face. They hugged each other. When Jenny opened her eyes slightly, the first thing she saw was the lens of a 16mm camera. She didn't know whether to smile at the camera or avoid the camera, so she hid her face in the man's shoulder.
Tom finally appeared-he broke free of her embrace. He was about thirty years old, with black hair and a pair of gray eyes gleaming on a childish face. Jenny pointed out the little camera crew to him.
Jenny: Are they photographing us or someone else?
Tom turned and looked at the camera, then he smiled slightly.
Tom: Attention... I'm making a movie for us. Now... If I kiss you, then, maybe, it's for the movie.
Jenny didn't understand what he said. Tom stroked her hair.
Tom: If I stroke your hair, then, maybe, it's for the movie.
He lifted his box, holding Jenny's arm with his other hand. The camera followed them.
Jenny was very surprised, but Tom was at ease. They walked towards the exit. The microphone appears in the lens from time to time. Tom held Jenny's hand tightly.
Tom: If I squeeze your hand, then, maybe, this is for the movie.
Jenny: Don't be like this. what happened? Do you know them? who are they?
Tom: This is a long story. In short...I am making a film called "Portrait of a Girl". I recommended it to the TV station and they accepted... a total of three books, and the girl—it’s you.
Jenny tried to interrupt him, but to no avail.
Jenny: You are a lunatic. You should ask me first.
Tom: I really like to start this idea from the scenes of the movie's heroine Jenny welcoming her fiance at the train station... Yes, I know them. This is my camera crew.
Jenny looked at the photographer who filmed them for a while, then looked at the sound engineer who recorded their conversation. She suddenly buried her face on Tom's shoulder and squeezed his hand a few times.
Jenny: In other words, when you kissed me, you knew it was making a movie.
She lowered her voice, and a few words were not recorded.
Jenny: Coward... traitor.
Tom: No, you will see that apart from all this, there will be a love story. You will see... Tell me, Jenny... What did you do when I was away?
Jenny (ironically): I think about you day and night, and I want to cry. My dear, I can't live without you!
Tom: Stop! great!
The photographer stopped shooting, and the sound engineer took off the headphones. Tom leaped on Jenny and kissed her again. This time he was sincere, not acting.
7. Interior view. Hotel, a featureless room, during the day
Wallpaper, vintage cabinet, bed. Behind the frosted partition is the sink and bathtub. The faucet on the bathtub was on. Water rushed along the enamel wall of the bathtub.
A young female worker with a pair of cat eyes lay on the floor and wiped the tiles with a rag. She was looking for bloodstains that might have been missed, scraping them off with her hands, and then wiping them with a cloth. It seemed that she was talking to herself.
Katrin: I was almost done... but the police wouldn't let me finish. We can't touch anything. They didn't believe it was suicide... There was too much blood around. They were very interested in asking me to act again in their presence. She walked from here...to there...and opened the curtains. I did it again like her.
She threw a rag next to a large towel soaked in blood, and turned on the faucet to wash her hands.
Katrin: The guests stayed up all night. There are police officers everywhere in the hotel... They are happy when they see the blood, they are all spies... so many questions are asked. Is she depressed... Is she happy... Are you fighting... Are you fighting each other... How long have you been married... Why do you have no children... This group of pigs...
She sat on the edge of the bathtub and watched the water flow down.
Katrin: They are familiar with the situation. They said "Your master is very nervous. Did you know that he used to be a boxer?" How? "I couldn't do this. He went to be an actor again, and then he became a small boss on a pier in New York," is he? "It didn't take long... he played the banjo again, and played the role of a revolutionist in South America, a Japanese journalist... Once he went to Tahiti and taught French there... Then he went to Paris and met a man A rich young woman...married her...what does your host do? Do nothing." I asked, can I clean up now? "No, don't move anything. Do you really think she killed herself?" He pushed me into a corner, trying to hug me.
Paul (outside the picture): Why don't you turn off the tap?
The sound came from the window.
Paul: Maybe, at the very moment, they are dissecting it.
We observed Paul from the window. He was looking at the window from the door facing the window. By the window, a dark-skinned young woman knelt on the ground and sew a button onto a black man's jeans; the man stood in front of her, holding a tenor saxophone in his hand. The girl also looked at Paul.
The camera moves to Katrin. She was wiping an object with toilet paper and then handing it to Paul.
Katrin: They said let me return this to you.
Paul (outside the picture): This is not mine.
Katrin: It's no longer useful to them. They said that the investigation has ended.
We looked at Paul, who was looking closely at a razor from the direction opposite the room. The camera moves to Paul. He glanced at the window. At the window, the black woman was about to bite off the thread of the sewing buttons. The button was almost sewn on the front of the man's trousers to cover the genitals.
Then, one of Paul's hands tightened the faucet. In a sudden silence we saw the back of Paul's head. He is walking outside the door.
There was a close-up of Katrin in an instant, but we couldn't see what she was doing.
We heard the rushing water in the bathroom again.
8. Interior view. Steps, landings, daytime
Jenny stood in front of the door.
She was ringing the doorbell with a key in her hand. There is no other way except to return the key and leave. She rang the bell again. nobody. It was almost noon.
A door opened at the top of the stairs on the upper floor.
Woman's voice (outside the picture): Buy another quart of milk.
The footsteps of young people. The sound became louder and louder because the man stepped up two stairs in one step.
Jenny didn't want people to see herself, she inserted the key into the keyhole and quickly opened the door.
After entering the door, she closed the door, leaving a small gap. She saw a little boy coming down from upstairs. His red sweater flashed past her eyes like a little red dot. He walked hurriedly.
Suddenly, Jenny felt a beam of eyes staring at herself. She quickly turned around and held the key above her head to prove it. Her testimony is readily available: "I'm here to return the key." Someone seems to be examining her. This is a black cat, a wild cat with a straight back fur. It was staring at her from the living room door.
Jenny gave a sharp shock. The black cat came closer, making noises between his teeth, disappearing into the room like a sleepwalker.
When Jenny walked to the living room, she had just had time to see the cat jumping out of the window. Jenny walked across the room, ran to the window, and looked out—the neat rows of roofs, and the black cats were nowhere to be seen.
A voice (outside the picture): Hello? Hey?
Jenny turned around and held the key to her chest again. A few footsteps. Then there appeared a chair, a moving chair. The chair was carried by a person, one foot above the floor.
Tall Porter: OK! Where to put it?
This person's tone is obviously very impatient.
Jenny: You could have ringed the bell first.
Tall Porter: The door is open.
Jenny didn't know what to say. The porter put the chair down, and his face appeared behind the chair. He had a cigar dangling from his mouth and looked exhausted.
Tall Porter: Put it here, okay?
Jenny: No, put it in front of the fireplace.
The man followed her instructions and walked away. Jenny also wants to leave.
A hand appeared at the door. That hand moved the four stools into the room one by one. Another porter appeared, a short man.
Short porter: Where is the stool?
Jenny made an ambiguous gesture. The short porter circled the stools.
Tall porter: So, where is the table?
She looked around quickly.
Jenny: I don't know. It's up to him.
The short porter gestured disdainfully to the stools that were ridiculously surrounded by a circle in the empty room, and put the table in a corner of the room.
When they left, the girl smiled to herself. The furniture is ridiculously arranged.
She wanted to leave again, but it didn't work, she had to come back because the two men were moving the spring cushioned sofa bed into the house. They both lifted the bed at each end, filling up the entire corridor, and demanded instructions from Jenny. She made a puzzling gesture.
The two men entered the bedroom. We saw that three-quarters of the bed disappeared in the house, while the other end of the bed remained outside.
A faint smile flicked across Jenny's face. Two porters stood in front of her and waited.
Porters: Thank you, madam.
Jenny realized it after a while. She opened the handbag and handed them a paper currency. They touched the beret with their index fingers to show their gratitude. She stared at their backs, but saw Paul walking in. He turned his back to her when he closed the door. So she had enough time to retreat to the living room and not let him see herself. Our eyes follow Paul into the living room. Jenny sat quietly in the chair, but her posture was unnatural. Paul looked at her in no surprise, as if it were normal for her to be there.
Paul: This chair should be placed on...
He walked to the chair where she was sitting. She sat there, hugging her knees with her arms tightly in fear.
Paul: ...at the window.
Paul moved the chair to the window with Jenny, then took off his coat and hung it on the window. His movements are accurate and beyond doubt.
Jenny: I'm here to return the key. Give it back to you.
Paul: What does it matter? Please take off your coat. Help, bring these stools over and put them here... put them in that direction.
She obeyed. His tone did not allow her to make another choice. They both moved the table together. The key that Jenny had returned was conspicuously placed on the table. She nodded.
Jenny: The key is there.
Paul stepped back a few steps to observe the new position of the table, and then he handed the stools to Jenny one by one.
Paul: Put it around the table.
She did what he said, her eyes only fixed on the furniture.
Jenny: You don't waste time.
When she put the last stool and turned around, the man in the room was gone. She walked to the door, trying to stop him, but didn't know his name.
Jenny: Please listen to me...sir...I have to go.
She approached the bedroom cautiously. One end of the bed stretched from the bedroom to the aisle.
Paul is there. He is ridiculous and helpless to face the cruel reality: the house is smaller than the bed.
Paul: The bed is too big for this room.
Jenny: I don't know how to call you.
Paul: I don't have a name.
Jenny: Do you want to know my name?
Before she could finish this sentence, she received a heavy slap in the face from Paul.
Paul: No! I don't want to—I don't want to know your name. You have no name, and neither do I. There is no name. There is no name here.
...But this is too sudden. Jenny didn't even have time to avoid that slap in the face. She covered her face with one hand.
Jenny: You are a lunatic.
Furious tears welled up in her eyes, but he was still stubborn.
Paul: You don't have a name, and neither do I. There is no name.
Jenny: Yes, yes...no name. but why?
Paul: Maybe I have a name, but I don't want to know anything about you. I don't want to know where you live and where you come from. I don't want to know... I don't know anything, I don't want to know anything! Do you understand?
Jenny: You scared me.
Paul: It doesn't matter. You and I will be dating here, and we don't know anything about what happened outside this house.
She snuggled in the corner of the wall. He lifted her chin, and then, his fingers ran across her cheeks.
Jenny: But why?
Paul: Because...because we don't need a name here. Don't you understand? We will forget everything we know-all, forget all people, forget everything we do, forget where we live. We will forget everything-all in all.
Jenny: But I can't. Can you?
Paul: I don't know. Are you scared?
Jenny grabbed his hand and raised it to her eyes. She looked at his wrist bone, stroking and studying.
Jenny: No, I'm not afraid anymore. Don't...let me go now. I will come again.
She drooped her eyelids and suddenly became frightened.
Jenny: Tomorrow...
Her lips caressed his hand.
Jenny: Please, it's tomorrow. I want you so much now.
Paul: Yes, that's good. This will not become a habit. This is a way of making love.
Paul kissed her and caressed her. She buried her head on his shoulder.
Jenny: Don't kiss me. If you kiss me again, I can't go.
Paul: I will take you to the door.
They hugged and walked, but instead of going to the door, they went to the bedroom door. Paul sat on the edge of the bed that stretched into the corridor, while Jenny disappeared into the bedroom. You can tell from the expression on Paul's face what she is doing.
9. Interior view. Paul's room during the day
One of his hands was under the shirt in the drawer, rummaging under the sheets and sweater. These hands were still searching in the bedside table next to the double bed, and rummaged through every pocket of the clothes hanging in the closet. This woman who is looking for something is in her fifties. She is Paul's mother-in-law.
Paul stood in the doorway with his back leaning on the door frame, staring at her unresponsively. The mother-in-law found him and stopped searching.
Mother-in-law: I thought you would be here...
Paul: I thought you would come later.
Mother-in-law: I came by the first train...Paul. How terrible, how terrible!
The woman's tired footsteps cut through the silence. She walked up to him and hugged him tightly. The man stood motionless.
Mother-in-law: Dad was lying on the bed with asthma. The doctor did not allow him to come.
She wanted to walk away, but for an instant Paul grabbed her.
Mother-in-law: This is better, I'm stronger.
The woman walked to the closet unexpectedly, stood on tiptoe, and searched the cabinet with her hands.
She found several handbags for women, put them on the bed, opened them one by one, and turned them inside and out.
At this moment Paul wanted to stand up and straighten up.
Paul: What are you looking for?
Mother-in-law: I want to find out if there is something that can explain the problem...letter, or some kind of sign.
Paul: I told you, nothing, absolutely nothing.
There was nothing in the handbag except a dirty handkerchief and a discarded lipstick.
Mother-in-law sat on the bed, she looked like someone who had just been hit by bankruptcy.
Mother-in-law: This is impossible. My little Rosa left nothing to her mother... not a word.
Paul put the handbag back where it was. On the upper compartment of the closet there is a very old big box: it is his. Paul looked at it.
Paul: There is no point in continuing to search.
Mother-in-law: Even to you, her husband, she didn't leave anything.
Paul did not answer. He lifted the box of his mother-in-law who was placed by the door. This is an old box. There are many bumps on it. It seems to be unusable anymore.
Paul: You should rest for a while. It seems that room 12 is empty.
He let his mother-in-law go first. They were silent in the corridor. This is not a corridor in a private house. This corridor is too quiet and too tortuous. Many marked rooms flashed across the corridor.
They both climbed the stairs. A pair of black men and women came to face each other; they made way for them. Paul caught the gaze of the black mother-in-law.
Mother-in-law: Use a razor?
Paul: Yes.
The woman began to climb the stairs again. They are on three floors. It's the corridor again. Room No. 12. Paul opened the door with the key. Typical guest rooms in third-class hotels: sinks, closets, and beds. The wallpaper on the wall is old. Paul put the box on the bed.
Mother-in-law: What time is this?
Paul: I don't know. It's night.
He has no desire to continue the conversation.
Mother-in-law: What happened later?
Paul: Later, I already told you that I found her and called an ambulance.
Paul walked into the corridor, and the door next door was locked. He pressed his ear to the door and heard the rustle of running water.
The mother-in-law opened her own box in the house and began to take out the not too many things from the box. She thought Paul was still listening, so she continued to talk to him.
Mother-in-law: After you called, we didn't sleep all night. Talking and talking...about Rosa and you. Dad kept talking in a low voice, as if this happened in our house.
She took out some of her odds and ends from the box: pajamas, sandals, black dress.
Later the mother-in-law called out loudly.
Mother-in-law: Paul!
Paul appeared.
Mother-in-law: Where did the accident happen?
Paul: In a room in the hotel.
Mother-in-law: Is she suffering?
Paul: Please ask the doctor! They had an autopsy.
Mother-in-law: The autopsy was done.
Paul turned his back to her again and walked out. He wanted to open the door of the next room. The sound of the water is louder. From the corridor, you can see two rooms at the same time-the mother-in-law's room and the room Paul is walking in. The faucet in the bathroom is still on. Paul bent down to turn off the faucet.
Mother-in-law is in her room. She was taking out a stack of postcards and envelopes with black frames from the box, and suddenly felt Paul's gaze back in the room.
Mother-in-law: This is from my house. I have experienced funerals. Now I have to consider everything. I want to prepare a room full of flowers for her.
Paul: Postcard...mourning clothes...parents...flowers...everything is in this box. You have not forgotten anything. It's just that I don't want any priests.
Mother-in-law: But, but, Paul...
Paul: Do you understand?
The mother-in-law stood up.
Mother-in-law: They are necessary. This should be a funeral for a religious ceremony.
Paul: No! Rosa is not religious. No one here believes in this... God.
Mother-in-law: Don't shout, Paul! Don't yell like that!
Paul: The priests do not allow any suicidal behavior. Churches don’t commit suicide, right?
Mother-in-law: They will forgive her sins. Forgive her and do a beautiful mass for her. This is all I ask for. Paul, do you understand? Rosa... is my child, Rosa.
Then, the woman quickly turned to intimidation and accusations.
Mother-in-law: Do you know what Dad said? "My little girl is always happy. What did they do to her? Why did she kill herself?"
Paul: Why did anyone kill themselves? Why? This can never be known, right? Never know.
He walked out of the room, slammed the door and left his mother-in-law in the room alone. He was walking in the corridor. A few doors opened slightly, and you could see the faces and eyes of the hotel's frequent guests.
10. Interior view. That house, during the day
We saw the bed stretching out of the room and heard footsteps.
Jenny (outside the picture): I like this. Because this kind of exercise is good for your health-keep your body in shape and increase your appetite.
Jenny appeared. She walked to the bathroom. She only wore jeans, no shirt, and no bra. Paul also appeared a minute later. He held his shirt, coat and socks in one hand. When he approached the bathroom, she "slammed" the door in front of his eyes, almost not touching his nose.
Jenny (outside the painting): Don't come in. There is no key to this door.
Paul: I took it away. let me see.
Jenny (outside the painting): This is not very interesting.
Paul: Each has its own advantages. what are you doing?
Jenny (outside the painting): Nothing.
Paul: In other words, you are taking a shower.
Paul smiled softly.
Jenny (outside the painting): I'm finished. Now you can come in.
Paul walked into the bathroom. She is sitting in front of the mirror putting on makeup. Paul turned on the faucet and continued to laugh. Jenny finally turned around.
Jenny: What is so ridiculous?
Paul put his hands on the edge of the bathtub, seeming to test its stability.
Paul: Nothing. I just imagine how you sit in the bathtub, both to keep your balance and to clean up. This requires actual exercise. If you fall, you may break your leg.
Jenny was furious. He approached her from behind her and kissed her bare shoulders.
Paul: Don't do that.
Jenny died suddenly.
Jenny: We are different. Some things I... I am very shy.
Paul: Forgive me, okay?
He turned and walked towards the bathtub.
Jenny: Okay.
Paul: So, come here and wash me.
Jenny: Never think about it. Why do you think you can order me to do this?
Paul: You don't know what you lost.
When they talked, he didn't ask for any help, and wiped himself. She turned around shyly.
Jenny: Do you know what you are? You are a pig.
Paul: Pig? I?
Jenny: The bathroom is the bathroom, and love is love. You confuse sacred feelings with blasphemy.
Paul put on his underwear and shirt. He sits on the edge of the bathtub and puts on his socks, watching his feet intently.
Paul: Once I watched a very melancholic Swedish film. The movie confuses the sacred with the blasphemous.
Jenny: All the obscene works are melancholic. They are death.
Paul: This is not an obscene work. This is an ordinary Swedish movie. The title is "The Secrets of Stockholm" and it tells the story of a shy young man. He finally plucked up the courage to invite the girl to his home. He waited excitedly, full of enthusiasm. Suddenly he thought, are his feet dirty? He took a look and thought his feet were annoying, so he ran into the bathroom, trying to wash his feet clean. But there is no water. In despair, he came up with a whim, put his foot in the urinal and drained the water.
Jenny smiled.
Paul: The young man's face became more cheerful. But when he tried to pull his foot out of the toilet, it didn't work, and his foot got stuck. He pulled and pulled desperately, but to no avail. When the girl saw him, he was leaning against the wall in despair and tears, with one foot in the toilet.
Jenny couldn't help laughing at this moment.
Paul: He said: "You go, don't come again." She replied: "I can't just leave you like this. You will starve to death." She went to find the water plumber. The plumber studied the situation, but didn't want to take responsibility. "I can't break the urinal," he said, "this will hurt his feet. Please call an ambulance." The hygienists came carrying the stretcher and decided to remove the urinal. They laughed, and carried the young man and the urinal on a stretcher like a huge seat. The health worker who was walking in the front slipped on the steps and fell under a stretcher. The urinal fell and hit him on the head. He died immediately.
Jenny laughed so hard that she couldn't put on makeup. Paul got dressed and walked out of the bathroom. Jenny continued to put on makeup alone.
Paul pulled the bed out of the room and dragged it into the hallway almost pathologically.
When Jenny appeared, the bed was already in the middle of the living room. Jenny, who was about to leave, was radiant. Her hair style is very beautiful. They looked at each other. She waved to him and walked to the door. He watched her stop her steps, turned around, and stretched out his hand.
At this time Paul threw something to her. We see that this is a key. It flew towards Jenny along the trajectory in slow motion. The girl smiled and disappeared. We follow her.
Her steps are quick and firm. She turned and walked back by the steps at the door, and appeared again at the door.
Jenny: Let's start again?
Paul did not answer. He began to take off his shirt. She repeated his actions too, they were far apart, at both ends of the room. They undressed silently, calm and natural. She lowered her eyes and walked slowly towards him.
Jenny: Let's just look at each other like this.
Paul: Okay.
Jenny: I want to see you.
They knelt down face to face, watching and studying each other. Paul and Jenny slowly revealed their bodies to each other. They talked a few words, like murmured.
Jenny: I don't know anything, how beautiful this is!
Paul: Needless to say.
Jenny: Adam and Eve didn't know anything about each other.
Paul: We are like them, but on the contrary. When they saw and realized that they were naked, they felt ashamed; and we, seeing that we were well-dressed, came here to take off our clothes.
Jenny: Everything you said is very beautiful.
The sound of Paul's body sliding lightly on Jenny cut through the silence in the room. Jenny changed a position and expressed willingness to give herself to him.
Jenny: Maybe, we can end without touching each other?
Paul: Don't touch each other? Just use your eyes and your voice...you want to concentrate? Are you over?
Jenny: It's very difficult.
Paul: I'm not over yet. Don't try too hard.
Jenny: I should think of a name for you.
Paul: Name? Oh Jesus God! Gosh! I have had thousands of names in my life. I don't want a name. The hum of a pig or the moo of a cow may be more suitable for my name. Do you want to know my name?
He let out a roar like a beast. Jenny smiled.
Jenny: This voice is very masculine. listen to me.
There was a sound from deep in her throat.
Paul (laughing): I—I think, this is the last name.
They kept repeating those voices.
11. Location. A villa on the outskirts, during the day
This is a neat white building on the outskirts of Paris. What happened in the garden was a strange scene. Six or seven people stood there, motionless like statues. A man squatted on the ground, wearing headphones and a loudspeaker on his knees. From time to time, he turned the loudspeaker in all directions.
All this looks like a ritual. Participants of this ceremony are mourning for someone.
If there were no sounds of nature, no cicadas, roosters, rumblings of motors, no sirens of barges on the canal and the roar of trains, then this place should have been a completely silent place.
The sound engineer of Tom's film crew recorded exactly the atmosphere formed by these sounds. The rest of the people seemed to froze. The photographer's hands were groping for the film in a black bag, while the photographer stared at the pigeon nest on the top of the building.
The door of a sedan banged. Jenny jumped out of the car.
Sound engineer: Stop! (He looks at her angrily). Because of this sound, I have to thank you! You really have a foresight!
The group of statues was resurrected in an instant.
Jenny hugged Tom, and he was gesturing to prepare everyone else.
Jenny: Everyone, where do you want to start? From scratch?
Tom: Don't you want to talk about it first? Just a moment.
Jenny: No, we are doing improvisation today. please follow me.
The film crew was ready to go with Jenny. She walked briskly to a corner of the garden, picked a few daisies from the flower bed, and walked through the garden. In the shadow of the thick hawthorn bushes stood a white tombstone. Jenny bent down and placed the daisy next to the stele. There is an oblong photo on the stele-a beautiful German Shepherd. The white marble is engraved with the inscription "Mustafa, Oran, 1950-Paris, 1958."
Jenny: It is my childhood friend. It can look at me for hours. Yes, I think, it understands me.
Voice of an old man (outside the picture): Dogs are better than people, much better.
The sound came from a window on the first floor.
Tom pushed the photographer and motioned him to take a picture of the old woman who was talking. The woman stood on the window sill with her elbows, standing in the shadow of the kitchen. It was hard for us to see her face clearly.
The expression on her face is serious.
Jenny: This is Olympia-my nanny.
Olympia: Mustafa always distinguishes the rich from the poor and never makes a mistake. If a well-dressed person comes, he will stand motionless... If a beggar comes, just look at it. What a good dog. The colonel, Jenny's father, taught him to recognize Arabs by smell.
Jenny: Olympia, please open the front door.
Olympia: Kiss me.
Jenny: Go ahead and open the door. Olympia-she is a collection of poems extolling family virtues, a loyal person to whom I am attached.
The film crew has already reached the door.
Jenny (outside the painting): After my father died, we moved to our home in the suburbs. My childhood is made up of various smells. The musty smell from the decaying walls, the fruit jelly smell in every room, and the smell of laundry. Many children come to play in my jungle. We ran from morning to night... to grow up-it is a crime.
12. Interior view. Villa, daytime
A group photo of middle school students. The pictures are full of little girls-they are all wearing aprons. There is also a female teacher among the children in the front row. Jenny pointed to the house from her childhood.
Jenny: This is me. Standing to the right of the female teacher is Miss Savas. She is a devout believer and very strict.
Olympia: She is so kind. She was the one who brought you bad.
The old nanny stood by and looked at the group of people in the photo. From time to time outside the painting came her views out loud.
Jenny: This is Christina, my best friend. She married a pharmacist. She has a very beautiful child. The situation here is a bit like a rural area, and everyone knows each other.
Olympia: I can’t live in Paris myself...
Jenny: We are isolated from the world here. Reminiscing about the past-how interesting it is!
We are in that small house belonging to childhood Jenny. Some old toys, children's books, exercise books for middle school students. The film crew is waiting for the director to give instructions on shooting. Tom flipped through those exercise books.
Tom: Why is it interesting? This is you, it's amazing, this is your childhood. This is all I am looking for... and what are you doing here? Who surrounds us with these fantasies? ...It's the door! door! I'll open the door! I want to open all the doors!
Jenny: What are you doing?
Tom: Design the lens... this way! ... I understand... the back passage... What are you doing here? stop! turn back! right! The passage behind! Understand? Like a car. Let's start again. Close your eyes. Go back, close your eyes, and walk back. That's it...In this way, you can re-reveal your childhood.
Jenny: This is Dad...here...
Tom: You can relax a little bit and stay away...you can re-reveal your childhood.
Jenny: ...He is wearing a uniform.
Tom: Don't be afraid, overcome obstacles.
Jenny: Dad is in Algeria...
Tom: You are fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, nine...
Jenny: This was my favorite street when I was eight years old. My exercise book, my French homework. The title is: "The Countryside". I described it like this: "The countryside, this is the cow's home. Cows wear leather clothes. Each cow has four aspects: front, back, top, and bottom." Isn't that great?
Tom: That's great! what is this?
Jenny: This is my personal diary. Everything is recorded there.
Tom: If you have no objection, please open one.
Jenny opened an exercise book.
Jenny: This is the source of my culture. I copied it down. Menstruation-the word comes from the Latin menstruns, a feminine noun. A physiological function. It is a periodic bleeding phenomenon, starting from a woman’s sexual maturity until menopause. penis. Masculine nouns. Sex organs from five to forty centimeters long... this is Robert Jr.! Look, Tom.
Below the photo is a picture painted with toner. This is a children's painting based on the imagination and audio-visual logic of an eleven-year-old child. There is a little boy sitting by the piano in the painting.
Jenny: Can you see it? And this one. I was eleven years old.
Tom: Who is this?
Jenny: My first love-my cousin Pori.
Tom: His eyes are closed.
Now the photographer is photographing Jenny in the living room. She slid her fingers across the piano, stroking.
Jenny: He plays the piano quite well. I remember, he was sitting at the piano. His slender fingers fluttered on the keyboard. He practiced the piano for hours in a row.
She tried to calm herself down, but she still seemed very excited. She continued her story.
Jenny: We often go to mass together.
She turned back to face the camera.
Jenny: There are two trees in my garden. Platanus and chestnut trees. We each sat under the tree. My cousin is sacred to me.
Jenny pushed open a closed door. The plane trees and chestnut trees are still the same, but the childhood feeling is gone. Several of the metal fences surrounding the garden were broken, and there were a few simple huts a few feet outside the fence.
Jenny: Are they not beautiful? To me, these farmhouses are jungles. At that time, none of this was yet... (to a few children) What are you doing?
Four or five little boys were relieved comfortably under the two trees. Sometimes they hum nervously, and sometimes snicker. They hesitated for an instant, then lifted their pants and ran through the gap in the fence.
But Jenny still caught a child.
The first boy: We are urinating.
The second boy: What? Didn't you see?
Jenny: Apart from my jungle, can't you find any other places?
She spoke with him in a very kind manner, but the child did not calm down, but trembled and tried to break free. He murmured in a foreign language—he saw Olympia come out of the house angrily. Jenny let go.
Jenny: Go ahead, go!
Tom: Take it! shoot! Have you all taken it?
Olympia: If I catch you, I will hang you up. Go to your own country to urinate, little thief!
She picked up a pebble and threw it at the child, but the child had already run away.
Olympia: Africans! Can't you live in your own home? !
Jenny (to Tom): Did you take these?
Tom: It was all shot.
Jenny: Olympia is so great. Now you have a comprehensive impression of race relations outside of Paris.
At this moment Tom handed her a picture of her father. The picture shows an officer in military uniform with a long sword.
Tom: This is indeed the jungle... Tell me about your father.
Jenny: I think that's it for today.
Tom: Five minutes.
Jenny: But I am anxious to go to a business appointment.
Tom: Yes, yes...that is, the colonel?
13. Interior view. bed. daytime
The last moment of the orgasm, "little death". Then Jenny slid off Paul, turned over and lay on her back. She looked straight ahead, put a hand on his face, and slowly spoke to Paul, but he seemed to have entered a hazy state.
Jenny: The colonel has bright green eyes. His leather boots are always shiny. I respect him like a god. He is so handsome when he wears a military uniform.
Paul: Isn't it just a bunch of stinky shit?
Jenny; what? how dare you? ...
Paul: Any military uniform is stinky shit. Everything outside this place is just a pile of dung. Other than that, I don’t want to hear your story, about your past and all that.
He approached her and kissed her lips, but she was still immersed in his memories.
Jenny: At night, if my mother doesn't kiss me, I can't sleep. I always dream of my mother's funeral, but she is still alive today. But my father died, in Algeria in 1958.
Paul: Or 1978, or 1998.
Jenny: It was 1958. Don't make jokes about things like this.
Paul: Listen to me, why don't you stop talking about things that have nothing to do with this place? Which year, damn it, what's the difference?
Jenny: Then what should I say? what should I do? Suck your lollipop?
She was sitting curled up on the bed. Later, she suddenly came up with a topic.
Jenny: Why don't you go back to America?
Paul: I don't know. I think it's because of some heavy memories.
Jenny: Heavy memories?
Paul: My father is a drunkard. He used to be a janitor in a tavern. He has a strong character and very strict...My mother is...poetic, and she drinks too. The scene of her being arrested naked remains in my childhood memory. We live in a small city, on a farm like an agricultural commune. When I came home from school, she was no longer there—in prison or somewhere else. I am used to milking milk every morning and evening, and I like to do it very much. But, once, I remembered that I was dressed neatly, and I was going to watch a basketball game with a girl. I was about to go out, and my father said, "You have to milk the cow." I begged him: "Please squeeze it for you. One time." But he said, "No, you turn back quickly." When I walked out of the house, I was very anxious and didn't have time to change my shoes. They were all stained with animal manure. On the way to the basketball game, the car was full of stench. I don't, really...really...I—I have nothing beautiful to remember.
Jenny (outside the picture): No one?
Paul: Maybe... one thing. There was a farmer there, a good-looking man, a poor old man. He did a lot of things. I dig a ditch, he moves cement. He smokes a gray-brown pipe, but he often doesn't put shredded tobacco in the pipe... He hates work, that kind of hot and dirty work. I broke my back once. I watched how the saliva flowed along his pipe to the pipe cup and hung on it. I bet myself to see if his saliva will fall off. I lose every time. As soon as I blinked, the saliva disappeared, and a new drop of saliva appeared in the original position. Later, we still have very beautiful...My mother taught me to appreciate nature. I think this is the only big thing she will do. There is a wide field and pasture in front of my house... In summer, this is a mustard field. We have a dog named Datkey. It chased hares on this grassland. It often can't see the hare, so it jumps around in the ground, and when it suddenly sees it, it quickly hunts down. Its movements are very beautiful. Even if the hare cannot be caught, its movements are beautiful.
Jenny: That means you still have a past.
Paul: What do you mean?
Jenny (sarcastically): I never wanted to learn about your past, little doll.
Paul: Do you think everything I'm telling you is true? Maybe, maybe...
Jenny: I am Little Red Riding Hood and you are the big bad wolf. So I said, "How strong are your hands!"
Paul: This is to squeeze your cream more.
Jenny: How long are your nails!
Paul: This is to grab your ass better.
Jenny: Oh, you have so much hair on your body.
Paul: This is to better cover up your scars.
Jenny: Oh, how long is your tongue.
Paul: This is to lick your ass better.
Jenny: Why do you want this?
Paul: This is your supreme pleasure, and it is also my need.
Jenny: Demand?
He lunged at her. Jenny laughed happily.
Jenny: It's ridiculous. It's like playing house when I was young. I feel like a child again here.
Paul: When you were a child, were you happy?
Jenny: It was the best day.
Paul: The best thing is to fiddle with right and wrong, or show off your power, or sell yourself for a candy.
Jenny: I'm not like that.
Paul: No?
Jenny: I write poems, draw castles, big castles. There are castles with tall towers, many tall towers.
Paul: You never thought about sex?
Jenny: Never thought about...just the tower.
Paul: You probably fell in love with your teacher at that time.
Jenny: My teacher is female.
Paul: Then she is a homosexual woman.
Jenny (screaming): How do you know?
Paul: This is a classic. However, in either case...
Jenny: My real first love is my cousin Pori.
Paul: If you name someone, I will get hemorrhoids. Don't say anyone's name. If you tell the truth but don't mention your name, I have no objection. but I can not……
Jenny: I'm sorry.
Paul: Then please continue to tell the truth. anything else?
Jenny: He was thirteen years old then. It's dark and skinny. I still remember. A big nose is really romantic. I fell in love with him as soon as I heard him play the piano.
Paul: You are talking about when he got into your pants stall for the first time.
Jenny: He plays the piano with two hands.
Paul: I really want to argue with you, you will be excited for him.
Jenny: We are dying hot.
Paul: This is a good explanation. anything else?
Jenny: Every day, when the adults lie down to rest after lunch...
Paul: You just grab his penis.
Jenny: You are crazy.
Paul: But, he touched you.
Jenny: I never allow him. there has never been.
Paul: You liar woman, lying...there are holes in the pants, big noses, like monkey tails. You want to say, he hasn't touched you? Looked into my eyes and said: "He never touched me once." Say!
Jenny: No, he touched me, but in his own way.
Paul: Own way. Okay, what did he do?
Jenny: Everything we did is so ridiculous. There are two trees behind the house-platanus and chestnut. I sit under the plane tree, and he sits under the chestnut tree. We started masturbating according to specific signals. Whoever ends first is the winner. This is awesome! We sat face to face, looking directly at each other.
Paul: How old were you when you first did this?
Jenny: The first time? I was late for school. Run down the hillside. Suddenly, here, I have a strong feeling. I'm doing it while running...The faster I run, the stronger the feeling. Two days later, I wanted to run again, but... to no avail! ...Why don't you listen to me? You know, I have a feeling of talking to myself facing the wall. Your locked-in attitude makes me feel depressed. This is uneducated and not noble. You are selfish... you know, I can also take care of myself.
Doorbell rang. Jenny was very surprised, it seemed impossible that there could be a doorbell in this place. Paul walked to the door and wanted to open it.
One voice (outside the picture): The entire Bible...a wonderful version...without annotations...and no abridgement...
Jenny jumped on Paul, trying to prevent him from opening the door. The ringing started again.
Paul's hand reached for the door lock. Jenny bit his hand.
Paul: Ouch...
Jenny: Didn't we have an appoin
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