I still can't believe|we're really on our way.
Nor can I.
It's so fantastic.
Thank you, darling.
Don't run away.|I won't be a sec.
Fiona.
Blimey.
What's the matter?
Can you give me a hand?
There we are.
God.
There we go, that's better.
I'm going to wipe away|those tears.
God.
Take a deep breath.
You'll feel better.
A deep breath of fresh air,|that's what you need.
Here.
- There.|- You're very pretty.
There we are.
There.
Are you going to Istanbul?
Yes. Then we're flying|on to Bombay.
How far are you going?
Further.
Much further.
But why on earth go to India?
I think we needed a break|from the rat race...
and India's got so much|to teach the West.
Really? What, for example?
Well, you know, inner serenity,|that kind of stuff.
The Karma-Nirvana syndrome.|Lot of poppycock, I'm afraid.
No, India's all flies,|smells, and beggars...
and as for serenity, it's|the noisiest place on earth.
If you say so, I'm sure.
Now, I'm sure Mr. Singh|is just being modest...
about his own part|of the world.
I can't wait to get there.
It's my anniversary treat.
We've been married|for seven years.
So it's a form|of marital therapy.
It's quite unnecessary,|dear lady.
With a wife as beautiful|as yourself...
any man would be proof|against the seven-year itch.
You tired, sweetheart?
Absolutely whacked.
Must be all this sea air.
How about a nightcap?
How about bed?
Come on, just one.
No, honestly not. You go.
Just take me to my cabin.|I'm out on my feet.
If you're sure.
I'm certain.
Anyway, it's bad|for an old married couple...
to be glued together|all the time.
What will it be, sir?
Whiskey and soda, please.
You feeling better?
Better than what?
You remember the...
this afternoon in the...
in the loo.
The loo?
Is it your usual pickup routine?
Of course I remember.
I have a perfect memory...
when I feel like it.
Right.
Is this some kind of game?
You want to dance?
I'm not much of a dancer.
That figures.
What's your name?
Nigel Dobson.
OK, Nigel, amuse me.
Say something funny.
Blimey.
You're French, aren't you?|I can tell from your accent.
Your English is very, very good,|but for some reason...
I can always tell|with frogs.
Sorry. Stupid thing to say.
Just slipped out.|Schoolboy expression.
Comes from working in the city.|I'm a Eurobond dealer.
We're always|calling people frogs.
You're right. Boring.
But, anyway, you call us|roast beef, don't you?
They're roast beef.
I think that's how you|pronounce it, anyway.
You're too funny for me, Nigel.
I'm choking with laughter.
So long.
I leave you to your magnetic,|irresistible personality.
Romantic, isn't it?
Yeah, it is. Splendid.
You're Nigel, aren't you?
Sorry. Do I know you?
Beware of her.
Right.
She's a walking man trap.
Sorry, I don't know|what you're talking about.
Sure, you do.
I'm her husband.
Look what she did to me.
I'm sorry.
Let me ask you something, Nigel.
You don't mind|if I call you Nigel, do you?
What do you think of her?
If you mean|who I think you mean...
she's very good-Iooking.
Yeah, sure,|all of that and more.
She gives you a hard-on,|doesn't she?
- Beg your pardon?|- Come on, don't be so British.
You'd like to fuck her.|Admit it. It's no crime.
I've no idea|what you're driving at.
Cut the crap!
You're itching to know|some more about her, aren't you?
Well, aren't you?
Here.
Do me a favor, would you?
Help me over|the goddamn step here.
They don't design these boats|for my kind.
Yeah, sure.
Get inside there.
Grab the wheels. The wheels.
Up.
I hate these fucking boats.
It's good of you to take pity|on an obnoxious cripple.
I don't know you at all...
but somehow|I have the feeling...
that you're exactly the listener|that I've been looking for.
I hope you'll find|my story interesting.
I realize it's hard|to relate to something...
that doesn't concern you.
Or maybe it already does.
We have the place to ourselves.
Mimi has her own cabin.
Thanks.
Eternity for me began|one fall day in Paris...
aboard the 96 bus...
which shuttles|between Montparnasse...
and Porte des Lilas.
Controle des billets,|s'il vous plait.
Mademoiselle.
Madame.
Merci.
Monsieur, votre billet,|s'il vous plait.
Je ne I'ai pas.
I'd been granted|a glimpse of Heaven...
then dumped on the sidewalk|at rue d'Assas.
I still have no idea|why you're telling me all this.
I'd always wanted|to be a writer.
My grandfather...
made a fortune in the surgical|appliance business...
and set up a trust fund for me.
On his death,|I found myself in receipt...
of sufficient allowance|to enable me to move to Paris.
Paris...
my dream city.
Hemingway, Miller...
Scott Fitzgerald.
I was determined to follow|in their footsteps...
maybe too determined|for my own good.
Maybe that's what killed any|originality I ever possessed.
After eight years,|all I had to show...
for my literary exertions were|three unpublished novels...
and a stack|of reject slips this high.
But who cared?
Sidewalk cafes...
fluttering skirts...
fleeting affairs.
Paris was heaven|until that day on the bus.
Et tu m'aides?
It was no good.
I couldn't write,|couldn't sleep...
couldn't get her out of my mind.
She was somewhere out there...
my sorceress in white sneakers.
But where?
I haunted that 96 bus route.
It became an obsession.
Even the drivers|began to recognize me.
Ca va?
Dsirez un apritif?
Moi, je meurs de faun.
Ouais, ouais moi aussi.
Alors on commande tout de suite.|Qu'est-ce qui vous tente?
Alors, mois,|j'ai envie d'un tartare.
- V oil.|- Un tartare.
Non attendez plutot|une soupe du jour pour moi.
Non finalement.
J'vais prendre un avocat|avec des crevattes.
J'aurais un apritif aprs tout.
Heu martini.
Double.
Et vous?
Moi je prendrai un kir royal,|s'il vous plait.
Excusez-moi.
Je suis desole...
je ne pouvais pas vous|parler tout a I'heure.
C'est pas grave.
V ous rappelez?
You're American?
You remember me?
Of course I remember.|You were very kind.
Now it's your turn|to do something nice for me.
Have dinner with me sometime.|Sometime soon, like tomorrow.
You ever get a night off?
- Yes.|- When?
- Tomorrow.|- Well?
Mimi, magnes le cul?|a planche!
Mimi.
She told me to meet her...
at the Centre du Marais|at 10:30.
I was so wound up...
I'd gotten there|a whole half-hour early.
My nerve ends|were jangling like bells.
Here's to old bus route 96.
V oil, voil, voil.
Bonsoir, bonsoir,|monsieur, madame...
vous allez bien qu'est-ce|que vous prfrez ce soir?
Should we just let him decide?
Ecoutez m'sieur mi char...
ce soir on vous laisse|I'initiative.
Alors, alors.
Permettez-moi|de proposer pour commencer...
"Perle du Blue Elephant."
Non, non, non.|Surprenez-nous.
Trs bien, trs bien, monsieur.
Faites moi confiance.
I hope, I hope|I didn't make a mistake...
by letting him order...
because I don't speak Thai|so good...
and we might have wound up|eating puppy-dog tails.
Do you mind if I do?
There was a freshness|and innocence about her...
an almost disconcerting blend...
of sexual maturity|and childish naivet...
that touched|my world-weary heart...
and effaced the age difference|between us.
My roommate is American. Cindy.|You saw her at the dance class.
I met her|when I study in New York.
How long were you there?
Till my money ran out.
Meaning?
Six months. I love New York.
It's the best place|for a dancer. Not for a writer?
Not this one.|I love Paris too much.
Is that what you write about,|Paris?
Paris and people.
Would you let me|read something of yours?
Would you dance for me sometime?
If you like.
Promise?
Promise.
I looked all over for you,|you know.
Did you ever think|you'd see me again?
Really?
Really.
Really?
You kept it.
My feet are cold.
Oh, you have a fireplace.
Does it work?
It sure does.
Why don't you relax|for a second?
I'll make coffee.
- Would you like a hot chocolate?|- Yes, please. Chocolate.
Could we make a fire?
Why not?
You make the fire,|I'll make the coffee...
and the chocolate.
Nothing ever surpassed|the rapture...
of that first awakening.
I might have been Adam...
with the taste of apple|fresh in my mouth.
I was looking at all the beauty|in the world...
embodied in a single|female form...
and I knew, with sudden|blinding certainty...
this was it.
We didn't leave the apartment|for three whole days after that.
We were inseparable by day|and insatiable by night.
Just lived on love|and stale croissants.
She chucked her job.
I couldn't bear|to part with her.
"I'd been granted|a glimpse of heaven...
"then dumped on the sidewalk|of rue d'Assas.
"The gates of paradise|had opened...
"only to slam in my face."
But they opened again, no?
They sure did, baby.
Pretty wide, at that.
Go on. Don't stop.
That's all there is.
What a pity.|I could listen to you forever.
Bravo! Monsieur a gagn|un beau p'tit nounours...
pour la p'tite dame.
C'est bravo a m'sieur!|Un bon tiereur a!
V'zavez I'choix avec|ce p'tit nounours l celui-ci!
Y vous plait... celui-ci!
V oil! Celui-ci!
Madame prend le plus|beau nounours du stand.
Madame est une connaisseuse...
et monsieur c'est|un bon tireur.
I love you.
What?
You heard me.
You love me?
Isn't it dangerous?
Not if you know|what you're doing.
Why don't you use an electric?
Americans like electric things.
Not this American.
I know. It makes you feel macho.
You're a real tiger.
You think you're Hemingway.
Hemingway had a beard.
Let me try it.
No way. No way!|I value my hide.
Please?
Please.|Please, just one little try.
Who can refuse you anything?
Like this.
Not too much of an angle.
Her pussy was a neat,|discreet little cleft...
but as soon|as the animal within...
was roused by my caresses,|it would stir...
draw aside the silken curtain|covering its lair...
and become|a carnivorous flower...
a baby's mouth...
greedily sucking my finger.
I loved to tease her clitoris|with the tip of my tongue...
and then abandon it...
wet and glistening...
like a little duck dabbling|in a pool of pink flesh.
Nigel, come on.|Don't look so shocked.
Steady on, old boy.
I'm only going|into such detail...
to show you how completely|enslaved I was...
body and soul...
by this creature|whose dangerous charms...
have made such an impression|on you.
- Why do you keep saying that?|- You mean I'm mistaken?
All right.
Let it go.|Leave me with my memories.
If it in some way helps you get|it off your chest or something...
What a compassionate fellow|you are, Nigel.
Actually, to tell the truth,|I should be going.
My wife will think|I've fallen overboard.
You'd have made|a very good analyst.
Not many men would have listened|to so much for so long.
Well, anyway,|thanks for the drink.
I can't understand why he'd|think you'd be interested...
in all these sordid details.
I haven't a clue.
Probably lets his hair down...
every time he corners|a captive audience, poor chap.
Poor chap.|He's a verbal exhibitionist.
It's his wife I feel sorry for.
Yeah. Did I mention I met her|in the bar last night?
- No.|- No, I didn't, did I?
- Was she feeling better?|- Yeah, much better.
She's not bad-Iooking, actually.
Thank you.
They're coming.
What?
Your American friend|and his wife.
God. Just as long as he|doesn't park himself on us.
After what he|told you last night?
He wouldn't dare, would he?
Nigel, old chap.|Good to see you.
This must be|your lovely wife.
Hi there, I'm Oscar. Mimi|you already know, don't you?
So do you, Nigel, right?
I hate to break up a twosome...
but would you mind|if I joined you?
We had an invitation|to the Captain's table.
Trouble is,|I'm allergic to beards.
Are you allergic to cripples?
After an intro like that,|how can we refuse?
Fine. It's settled, then.
Off you go, baby.
Thanks. Have fun.
Mimi doesn't share my aversion.
In fact,|she's not too choosy in general.
Can't be, or she couldn't|have married me.
What a girl.
Knockin' 'em dead as usual.
Just wine for me. White.
Anything,|as long as it's not retsina.
Yes, Mimi's very lovely,|but you...
I still don't know your name,|by the way.
Fiona.
Fiona. I hope you won't|think me forward...
but I find your own brand|of beauty more subtle.
It has that inimitably|British quality...
a kind of reticence that hints|at untapped potentiality.
Nigel's been tapping|my potentialities for years...
haven't you, Nigel?
Well, Nigel?
Come on, your lovely wife|has just implied...
that she's lost|all her mystery for you.
True or false?
I think there's probably|a corner of everyone...
that remains to be explored.
Halfhearted,|but better than nothing.
Well, Fiona, they'll|have to make do with that.
He's right, though. Everyone|has secret nooks and crannies.
Every relationship,|no matter how harmonious...
contains seeds of farce|or tragedy.
I do not like|the look of that sky.
I'm not sure if the weather's|going to hold.
Jesus, don't tell me you're|taking refuge in the weather.
You know what I hope?
I hope the ship goes down...
and we're all marooned|on a desert island.
I'd wind up|the sole survivor.
That's charming.|And why do you say that?
Because|no one would be tempted...
to cannibalize|my shriveled carcass.
I hope he hasn't|been boring you.
No, not at all.
Your husband|has a great sense of humor.
Black humor, but still,|he's been keeping us...
thoroughly entertained.
- See, baby?|- See what?
Our British friends|find me entertaining.
In small doses, perhaps.
But now we must leave them|in peace.
Ah. Indeed.
Thanks for taking care of him.
Not at all.
Ah, Fiona, I've already|imposed on you...
but may I beg a favor?
As I'm sure he told you...
Nigel and I|had a chat last night.
I found him|such stimulating company.
Could I borrow him again|this afternoon?
Just for an hour or so.
He's quite grown up. He doesn't|have to have Mummy's permission.
The seasons came and went.
Mimi's face still held|a thousand mysteries for me...
her body|a thousand sweet promises.
But lurking|at the back of my mind...
was an unspoken fear that we'd|already scaled the heights...
of our relationship...
that it would all be downhill|from now on.
And then something happened.
Something that would put things|on a totally different plane.
We were at Kitzbuhel,|a skiing vacation.
I'd rented a chalet there.
It was one of those nights...
warm and cozy inside...
great, fat snowflakes...
drifting down in the blackness|beyond the frosted panes.
No light but the glow|from the set.
Mimi on the floor wearing|a T-shirt and nothing else...
watching some old American soap|dubbed in German...
and me on the couch|watching her...
sprawled in a sort|of boozy stupor.
All at once she got up...
stalked over to the set...
spread her legs...
and pissed on the screen...
like she wanted to blot it out.
Time stood still for an instant,|and then I rolled off the couch.
I crawled over like a lunatic.
I wormed my way|between her legs...
and I turned over.
And right away...
I was engulfed with this warm,|golden cascade.
It spattered my cheeks...
it filled my nostrils,|it stung my eyes...
and then something|jolted my brain...
with multi-megavolt intensity.
There was this blinding flash|in the back of my eyeballs.
I experienced|the orgasm of a lifetime.
For God's sake, man!
It was like a white-hot blade|piercing me through and through.
This was my Nile,|my Ganges, my Jordan...
my Fountain of Youth,|my second baptism.
I think I'm probably|as broad-minded...
as the next man...|but, I mean, obviously...
there are limits.
Stop twittering, Nigel.
I'm sharing a revelation|with you, damn it.
I'm trying to expand|your sexual horizons.
I see. And what makes you|think they need expanding?
I'm sure your tumbles with Fiona|are all perfectly adequate...
very sanitary and hygienic|in their way.
You bloody well|leave us out of this.
At least we've got some decency.
What do you think|you're doing...
sharing the details|of your perverted sex life...
with a total stranger?
It's just downright obscene.
Obscene?
Have you ever felt real,|overpowering passion?
Have you ever truly|idolized a woman?
Nothing can be obscene|in such a love.
Everything that occurs|between you...
becomes a sacrament,|don't you see?
Come on. Sit down.
Have another cup of tea.
It'll steady your nerves.
So, anyway...
that was our sexual Rubicon.
It opened up all sorts|of new possibilities.
I always had a suspicion...
it might be|supremely pleasurable...
to be humiliated|by a beautiful woman...
but it was only now|I realized...
what this could entail.
We shut ourselves up with|our toys for weeks on end...
never going out...
seeing no one but each other.
I guess it was asking|too much of any couple.
Oscar?
Just a minute.
Did you really have|all those women?
What women?
The ones you write about.
Does it matter?
It's a book, for Christ's sake.
I know. I'm just curious.
Do you like it?|That's what matters.
It's very sexy.
Forget about sex|for two seconds.
What do you think of the quality|of the writing?
I can't judge.|My English isn't good enough.
"My English isn't good enough."
Why read the fucking book|at all?
Because I love you.
Because I love everything|to do with you.
It's a pity|you're not in publishing.
I'd be at the top|of the best-seller list by now.
When will it be published?
You tell me.
I'm working on it.
We were getting to be|like two goldfish in a bowl.
"Come on," I told her,|"We need a change of scene.
"Let's each round up|a few friends and hit the town."
You know it.|It's true. It's true.
Hey, what's the matter?
I'd always found infidelity...
the most titillating aspect|of any relationship.
That scene|should have turned me on.
So why didn't it?
Why did I feel so hurt?
Pas de cigarette,|s'il vous plait.
Why did you do it?
Why don't you say something?
What do you want me to say?
Why did you walk out on me|like that?
You don't know?
Well, you started it.
Flirting with my own roommate.
You were all over her.
Bullshit. We were having|a couple laughs.
And we were just having a dance.
Some dance. Decent of you|not to fuck him on the floor.
I'm sorry.|I did it because I was jealous.
Please, please forgive me.
You're my Tiger.
I don't want anyone but you...
not ever.
I love you. I love you.
I loved her, too,|but our credit was running out.
We were headed|for sexual bankruptcy.
I smell pig.
Don't laugh.
Don't talk.
Come, piggy.
Where is he?
Come, piggy-wiggy.
Where are you?
Get off. Get off.
How dare you try to fuck me,|you filthy beast!
Take that.
Harder.
Shut up.
Oh, you spoiled it.
Pigs don't talk.
How can I believe|in a pig that talks?
You know something?
I don't believe in it, either.
Not anymore.
That was it.
The spell was broken at last.
Jolly good thing, too,|if you ask me.
I dread to think|what you'd get up to next.
Don't worry.|There's plenty more to tell.
What makes you think|I want to hear it?
I still don't know|what gives you the idea...
that I enjoy being used|as a rubbish dump...
for your unsavory reminiscences.
Don't you?
Don't you really, Nigel?
He's still here?
Afraid I am, yes,|but I'm just off now.
You know, Nigel has been|extremely patient with me.
We don't see eye-to-eye|on everything...
but we share at least|one interest in common...
you, baby.
I suppose that's why he|keeps coming back for more.
Anyway, as I say, I'm just off.
So, thanks very much|for the tea.
Toodle-oo.
Oh. Sorry.
You were gone long enough.
I'm really sorry, darling.
I was going to go to dinner|without you.
It's just incredibly hard|to get away.
You saw what he's like.
- Was she there, too?|- Who?
Wrong answer, Nigel.
"Yes" or "no" would have|been fine, but "who?"
You know perfectly well|who I mean.
Right, Mimi. Yeah, she rolled up|just as I was leaving.
Odd creature.
So you said...|"Odd, but not bad-Iooking."
Most men would find her|stunning.
Most women, too,|for that matter.
Well, look, I am not "most men."
I'm your husband. Right?
There we go.
Here they are, all locked up.
I say,|is this your little girl?
It is, indeed. Amrita, say hello|to the lady and gentleman.
Hello, Amrita.|That's a very pretty name.
It's almost as pretty|as you are.
She's enchanting.|Where have you been hiding her?
I have a nanny|that looks after her.
- And your wife?|- I'm a widower, dear lady.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
Anyway, it's lovely|to have a child on board.
It makes a change|from all the wrinklies.
And you? Have you provided|for your posterity?
Sorry?
You have a wife|that loves children so much.
I was just wondering if|you yourself have a family.
No, we haven't, actually.
No. Nigel thinks the world's|overpopulated enough as it is...
without us adding|to the problem.
An admirable sentiment in India,|perhaps...
But surely the green fields|of England...
can afford to have|a few more mouths to feed.
I say, look at that.
Oh, look, Amrita, look. See.
- Isn't that beautiful?|- Are you cold, darling?
Gosh,|I should have brought my coat.
Please, allow me.
That's very kind.
- Here we are.|- Thank you.
Let's go and I'll fetch you|something from the cabin.
See you in a sec.
Believe me, dear lady...
children are a better|form of marital therapy...
than any trip to India.
You mustn't believe all he says.
He's a sick man.
He imagines things.
Please, don't think badly of me.
Now, wait a minute.
What are you playing at|this time?
It matters to me what you think.
Does it?
Does it really?
I have to talk with you, Nigel.
I have to explain.
All right, go ahead.
No. Not here.
In my cabin.
We won't be disturbed there.
Please.
I'm afraid I can't. Not now.
No. Later.
Five o'clock.
Cabin DS1.
What is it?
A newspaper.
I brought your coat.
Thanks, Mr. Singh.
You're very welcome.
- What a lovely story.|- Thanks.
Say thank you, Amrita.
So if your daddy will let me|I'll come and tell you...
some other stories sometime.|Would you like that?
Two hearts.
I pass.
Four hearts.
Ich passe.
No bid.
Pass.
You won't believe this...
but I've got to see|that chap again.
I thought you'd had enough|of all that.
I know, it's just...|he won't take no for an answer.
I'm so sorry,|but I've simply got to go.
I wonder, would you like|to take my place?
- I should be delighted.|- Great.
Bridge is king of games.
I once played|forty-eight hours nonstop.
You leave your partner|in safe hands.
Excellent.|I do apologize.
Please, excuse me.
Entschuldigung and all that.
May I come in?
Close the door.
April Fool!
You pathetic, sick...
Do you want her?
Yes or no.
I don't want anything more to do|with either of you, ever.
Let go.|Let me go, or I'Il...
Let me go|or I'll call my mommy.
Go on.
Get out.
Crawl back|to your matrimonial tomb.
You know what? I pity you.
I genuinely pity you both...
if this is how|you get your kicks.
I get no kicks out of this.
Then what was this farce?
How else could we get you here?
Why is that suddenly|of such incredible importance?
Mimi wants you to hear|the rest of our story.
She thinks it'll help|her chances with you.
What are you, her pimp?
I don't begrudge Mimi|the right to look elsewhere...
for what I can no longer supply.
I merely supervise her affairs|instead of...
submitting to them.
You can have her, Nigel...
with my blessings.
On one condition...
you hear me out.
You make me sick.
Why are you still standing here?
Come on, Nigel, it was a joke.
Have a sense of humor,|for Christ's sake.
Come on, sit down.
Make yourself comfortable.
Use my wheelchair.
The brake! The brake!
Have a heart, Nigel.
Don't be too rough...
on a man demolished|by a love that was too strong.
Yes, sir.
We should have|stopped right there.
Lovers should quit when|their passion is at its peak...
not wait until|its inevitable decline.
As it was, my desire for her|had begun to wane.
There she would lie...
gorgeous, voluptuous...
and it didn't do a thing for me.
I came to resent her failure|to excite me...
the way she used to.
We were developing a narcotic|dependence on television...
the marital aid that enables|a couple to endure each other...
without having to talk.
A New York editress|was overnighting in Paris...
on her way|to the Frankfurt book fair.
I wanted to show her|a good time.
It was a PR job...
and I was apprehensive|of her reaction to Mimi...
who tended to upstage|every other woman in sight.
You wearing that?
That dress?
What about it?
Couldn't you wear|something else?
What's wrong with it?
Oh, nothing.
What do you mean, nothing?
You think it makes me look fat,|it makes my ass look fat.
Did I say that?
- You think I've got a fat ass.|- You said that. I didn't.
So you do think|I've got a fat ass.
Give me a break.
You wouldn't have said that|once upon a time.
You liked my ass.
I still like your ass.|I'm crazy about your ass.
You don't love me anymore.
Wear what you fucking want.
Wear a fucking bathrobe,|for all I care.
The trouble is, publishing|isn't what it used to be.
It's the bottom line|that counts now...
proven track records,|advance sales.
No one's gonna invest|in a newcomer...
who hasn't proven himself.
So an unknown can't get|published unless he's known.
Sounds like a Catch-22 to me.
You could call it that.
And your Parisian settings|don't help any.
When are you|going to come back home...
back to the United States,|where it's at?
No, he wouldn't do that.
Oscar's a fixture here.|He's like the Eiffel Tower.
He's right, Beverly.|I love it here.
- I feel at home.|- Good for you.
Come on, get a life.|Paris is out. Vieux jeu.
It's a literary mausoleum.
Henry Miller|used it up fifty years ago.
God, I don't think France|hasn't been the same...
since they gave up absinthe.
It's all right.|I'll be fine. Thank you.
I'm fine. I'm fine.
You know what?|I should make you my agent.
That would solve|all my problems.
"Paris is out. Vieux jeu."
You really did me|some good tonight...
like I don't have enough trouble|getting published.
I couldn't bear to see you|crawl up her ass like that.
I'll crawl up the ass of anyone|I fucking well feel like.
Yours isn't the only one|in town.
Is that how you feel?
That's exactly how I feel.
In that case, I'd better go.
OK. You do that.
I'm going now.
Are you sad I'm going?
You're not sad.
I am sad,|but it's better this way.
My keys.
Thanks.
I love you.|I love you so much.
Please don't make me go.
Stop crying.
Go make some coffee|or something, huh?
I came to dread bedtime.
I would feel this...
overpowering desire to sleep.
I'm bushed.
I'd feel sorry for her...
Good night.
...lying there with her belly|crying, "Famine..."
her organs in turmoil.
Kiss me good night.
Not like that. Hold me.
I would crush my lips|against hers...
like you mash out a butt|in an ashtray...
but that was only a prelude...
to the most unoriginal act|known to man...
the process referred to|as copulation.
I felt like a rat in a trap.
Out there,|people were having fun...
dancing, making love.
Paris was throbbing|to its own frenetic rhythms.
They pounded away in my head,|driving me crazy.
I craved variety.
I hungered for noise|and excitement.
Holy shit!
Do you have to drink it|that way?
Why can't you use a glass?
What's the difference?|It tastes the same.
It doesn't look the same.
Oh-la-la. I didn't know|you were so delicate.
- What do you mean, delicate?|- I mean delicate.
I know what you mean...
but it's just not|the right word in English.
If you don't know the right word|in English, say it in French.
I don't say it in French because|your French isn't good enough.
It's better than your English.
After all these years in Paris,|so it should be.
Maybe your English|isn't that good, either.
Maybe that's why no one wants|to publish your books.
So now you're a literary critic?
That's great|coming from a waitress.
I'm not a waitress.|I'm a dancer.
Dancer, hell.|You'd still be begging tips...
if I hadn't picked you up|out of that fucking restaurant.
You little bitch!
OK, show's over.
You can get up now.
Jesus, don't do this to me.
Baby?
Come on, say something.
Please.
God Almighty.
Sos mdecin. Bonjour.
Ma femme, elle est vanouie|soudainement.
Dans quelles circonstances?
Elle est tombe. Tombe.
Sa tete a heurte un meuble.
Saigne-t-elle due nez|ou des oreilles?
Est-ce qu'elle prend|des mdicaments?
Quel age a-t-elle?
- J'ai mal.|- Where?
Ou tu as mal?
My head.
Is it bad?
How bad is it?
Tiger.
- Should I call a doctor?|- No. Just hold me.
Baby, forgive me, please.
I love you.
Wow. It's great!
Thank you. Thank you.|I'm so happy.
What a lovely evening.
I wish it would last forever.
Forever's a long time, baby.
I can't think in those terms.
I never could.
But when something is good...
don't you want it|to last forever?
Sure, but good things never do.
Not even us?
Are we so good?
Aren't we?
Well, now that you|come to mention it, no.
Not anymore.
I...
Come on, Mimi,|let's stop kidding ourselves.
I don't understand.
Look,|it was sweet while it lasted.
Boy, it was sweet,|but it's going sour, isn't it?
Well, isn't it?
I'd been hoping that you'd|take the initiative...
but, no, you seem quite happy|to let things drag on this way.
Well, I'm not.
I'm degrading myself|by degrading you.
We're degrading each other,|for God's sake.
Let's not spoil|a beautiful memory.
Let's quit while we still have|a few shreds of dignity left.
But I love you.|All I want is you.
I want to marry you.|I want to give you babies.
I want to give you|the rest of my life.
I don't want the rest|of your life. I want my own.
Can't you get it|through your head?
What did I do wrong?
Did I ever harm you?
Oscar, tell me.
Even a criminal|is told his crime.
What did I do?
You didn't do anything.
You exist.
That's all.
I understand.
Did I miss her?
Sure, I did...
but I also experienced|an incredible sense of freedom.
The future seemed bright|with promise...
peopled with a thousand|alluring images...
most of them female.
Oh, shit.
It's me.
I'm here.
I'm scared.
What?
I can't live without you.
I'm afraid|you're just gonna have to.
I won't.
We've been through this before,|haven't we?
So why don't we give it a rest?
Look up some friends.|Have some fun.
We just went over the top,|that's all.
In a few days...
you'll be grateful to me|for having made the first move.
Was she play-acting?
I couldn't be sure.
I called her old roommate.
No dice.
I spent the rest of the day|wondering...
and half the night drinking.
I was waiting for you.
I can see that. I wonder why.
You know why.
I know I'm wrecked|and I'm gonna crash.
- No. Wait.|- Let go of me.
I want to tell you something.
There's nothing more to be said.
- Please!
It's not going to make it|any easier on you.
You've got to listen to me.|Please. Please listen to me.
Oh, for God's sake.
Rita, veux-tu. Rita.
All right. You'd better come in.
Do you want one?
All right.
What's so important?
It's true what I said.
I can't live without you.
If that's all you came|to tell me...
Please, don't throw me out.
Give me one last chance.
I'm ready to live with you|on any terms, any at all.
I can bear anything as long|as I'm with you sometimes.
You can shout at me.
You can hit me.
You can have other women.
I don't care what you do,|but, please...
don't send me away.
Even if you don't|love me anymore...
keep me with you out of pity.
There's nothing I wouldn't do|to stay with you.
Please. Please.
Please.
I beg you.
Please! Please!
I beg you.
Everyone has a sadistic streak.
Nothing brings it out better...
than the knowledge you've got|someone at your mercy.
If she really fancied|living in a living hell...
I'd make it so hot,|even she would want out.
Yeah, it feels so good.
Yeah, it does, Cindy.
Cindy?
I mean Minnie, uh, Mimi.
Sure, I'm on.
Yeah, why not?
Round up a couple of chicks.|We'll make a night of it.
Who?
Oh, you bet.
She's the best piece of ass|this side of the river.
All right.
Yeah, I'll see you there.
Dinner's ready.
I'm eating out.
Tonight?
What's so special about tonight?
It's your holiday.
What holiday?
Thanksgiving.
I wanted to surprise you.
All right.|Let's see what you got.
Christ, what is that?
Turkey.
I cooked it for you special.
Cremated it, you mean.
That's it. I'm off.
Won't you even try a little?
You're joking.
I have too much respect|for my dentist.
Listen, in the future,|forget about cooking.
Stick to what you can do.
Which reminds me, what happened|to your dance classes?
Dancing has to come|from the heart.
So?
My heart is broken.
I was getting to her at last.
I'd achieved the impossible.
She was losing her looks|and her figure...
wasting away...
breaking out|in nervous rashes...
developing spots.
We were just admiring|your new hairstyle.
Really?
Susan here thinks it suits you.|I do, too.
I can't put my finger on it,|but it reminds me of something.
I know! Rita!
Rita?
You know Rita.
Rita. The neighbor's dog.
Just a minute. Wait.
What's that?|Looks like a zit.
It is.
And your nose is shiny, too.
I'm not a makeup artist,|but I could do better than that.
Hey! I didn't know we were|having a Halloween party.
She was so easy to hurt...
it was getting to be|like shooting fish in a barrel.
Not now, for Christ's sake!
Can't you see that|I'm trying to work?
Anyway, have I ever asked you|to clean the house for me?
No. So stop playing the martyr.
Take that thing off your head.
It makes you look|even uglier than usual.
You're really|letting yourself go.
I'm ashamed to be seen going|around with you these days.
What is it now?
I expect...
What do you expect?
A baby.
What did you say?
I'm going to have a baby.
Oh, my God.
How long have you known?
Only since yesterday.
Two months, the doctor says.
What are you going|to do about it?
Do about it?
Look at me.
Do I look like a daddy?
Can you see us bringing up|a child in this place?
I'm pushing forty.
I haven't even sold|a single book yet.
The world doesn't know I exist.
Not a day goes by that I don't|think it might be better...
just to kill myself|and be done with it.
Would it be fair to saddle|a child with a father like this?
Be honest.
They'd told me|there were complications...
but I wasn't prepared...
to see her looking|like a marble figure on a tomb.
For a moment, I almost weakened.
You came.
Why wouldn't I?
I brought you flowers.
You're here.
Nothing else matters.
I've been thinking,|that when you're on your feet...
we'll go away together,|just the two of us.
Go away?
Yeah. Far, far away.
Shit. No room.
You look pale, baby.
Feeling all right?
Pardon, madame.
Excuse me.
Oh, pardon. Je m'excuse.
Look. There it is.
That's what you need, baby.
I can just see you luxuriating|under one of them palms...
with a tall glass in your hand.
Oh, hell, I can't sit through|the whole trip this way.
I'm gonna get them|to stow it somewhere.
I'll be right back.
Your baggage|has already been loaded...
and it can't travel without you.
No. This is all I've got.
Vous n'avez pas de bagage|dans la soute?
May I see your ticket, please?
Voulez-vous que|je fasse une annonce...
pour savoir s'il|y a un mdecin bord?
I shall have to check|with the Captain.
I could picture her|looking out the window...
at that beautiful moon...
the same one I could see...
but I bet it didn't look|the same to her.
Depends on your state of mind,|the way things grab you.
To her,|it must have been poison.
To me, sweet as a peach.
I don't know about you.
Sometimes I think you make|things up as you go along.
I wish you were right.
My imagination|isn't half that fertile.
I might have made it|into print after all.
I mean, if even half|that story were true...
you'd be too bloody ashamed|to tell it.
Boy...
you still don't know me at all.
Are you still angry with me?
I don't know. I'm confused.
I wanted you to hear it.
I'd sooner have heard it|from you.
I leave the words to him.|They're all he has left.
When can we be alone together?
I mean, you know, really alone.
First hear the rest|of the story.
Then we'll see.
Here you are.|I wondered where you were.
You missed dinner.
I completely lost track of time.|I'm really sorry.
Never mind.|Dado's been keeping me company.
Good. How did the bridge go?
- It was a disaster.|- Really.
We had very, very bad luck.
Never had such terrible hands|in my entire life.
Never mind, Dado.|Unlucky at cards, lucky in love.
May I offer you a drink?
No, thanks very much.|I think some other time.
Are you coming, darling?
Smarmy bugger.
I bet he'd like|to climb inside your pants.
You can talk.
What do you mean?
Oh, God, Nigel,|I'm not a complete fool.
Those sessions|with that American freak.
I know what the attraction is.|It isn't his big blue eyes.
I'm sorry. I don't follow.
It's his wife you're after.
You've got the hots|for her, haven't you?
What? I feel sorry for the girl,|that's all.
Yeah, so sorry that|your tongue's hanging out.
Now, just watch it, Nigel.
Anything you can do,|I can do better.
Oh, God.
Darling, I cannot understand|why you won't take a Dramamine.
I told you, they knock me out.
Surely, now, it's better|to sleep than to suffer.
We look forward|to welcoming you...
to our gala fancy|dress ball tonight.
I'll be all right.
See the new year in|and dance till dawn...
to the music of|Danny Garcy and his boys.
For those without costumes...
the stewards can supply|funny hats and...
Funny hats.|For God's sake.
Here.
Here, take another.
You like me taking pills,|don't you, Nigel?
If it's not one kind,|it's another.
Don't know why I bother.
Sorry, darling.|What are you talking about?
The pill, Nigel. The pill.
We don't do it often enough|nowadays to make it worthwhile.
Oh, really. Come on, please.
What are we doing here?
What are we looking for|that we can't find at home?
Seven years.|Look where it got us.
I realize something now.|We shouldn't go to India at all.
I'll be spending|the whole six months in bed.
Sorry, darling.|I'm not with you.
Too right, you're not.|You're somewhere bloody else...
and I know where!
It's like a drug.
Actually,|That's all getting very boring.
If you're so obsessed...
with your dirty-minded little|cripple and his sexy wife...
why don't you just go back|for another helping...
and leave me in peace.
Fine! If that's how you feel,|I damn well will.
In time, Mimi became|a distant memory...
a closed chapter.
My sense of freedom returned|with a vengeance.
I hadn't dumped Mimi|for one particular woman.
I'd swapped her|for all womankind.
And I resolved|to make up for lost time.
No more emotional entanglements.
I just wallowed in female flesh|like a pig in clover...
ricocheted from bed to bed...
grabbed whatever was going...
hurried on.
Every day held the promise...
of some new, short-lived|sexual experience...
the shorter, the better.
Every time I looked|into one woman's eyes...
I could see the reflection|of the next.
After two years|of screwing around...
I gave up all pretense|of writing...
and turned night into day.
Like Dracula...
I rose at dusk|and retired to my pad at dawn.
Il faut qu'je rentre.|Il faut que je rentre, Oscar.
Mais non, on s'amuser.|The night is young.
Moi, il fatigu.|Je me lve dans deux heures.
Arrete tes couneries.|On va rigoler un peu.
Non! Arrete!
Something's fucked up.
I was luckier than I deserved.
Just a concussion|and a fractured femur...
that had kept me lying there|like a mummy for weeks.
None of my conquests...
bothered to check|if I was still breathing.
Well, I'll be damned.
Jesus.
So you didn't kill yourself.
What for?
I was dead already.
You're looking great anyway.
I'm feeling great.
Here. I brought you these.
Thanks.
May as well sit down|while you're here.
Where you been all this time?
You bought the tickets.|You should know.
Martinique? You stayed on?
What have you been doing|with yourself?
- Working at a hotel.|- Waiting tables?
Till the manager|found out I could dance.
Then he put me in a floor show.
Kind of him.
Yes. He was very kind.
He almost restored my faith|in human nature.
Only almost?
He did...
until I remembered you.
Touch.
What are you doing back here?
Just visiting.|I heard about your misfortune...
thought I'd see|if you needed anything.
You know what I really need,|baby?
I need you to stay out|of my life.
You haven't lost your charm,|Oscar. I should have known.
Well... good-bye.
Remember the carousel?
Sure, I remember the carousel.
I remember it|like a trip to the dentist.
Easy! Easy!
Stop!
Asshole.|Did you think I'd forgotten?
She came to see me when|I got out of intensive care.
She said, "There's bad news|and there's good news.
"You're paralyzed from|the waist down, permanently."
"OK," I said.
"Let's have the good news."
"That was the good news,"|she said.
"The bad news|is that from now on...
"I'm taking care of you."
We were a couple once more.
She moved back into my place|and looked after me...
with a strange kind of devotion|to duty.
She was my cook,|my housekeeper, my jailer...
and my nurse.
Oh, couldn't you...
I mean, it makes my leg shake...
if you always shoot me|in the same spot.
You see? It makes the leg shake.
Couldn't you find|some other place?
- You want me to have another go?|- No, the next time.
Look what you made me do, silly.
My God, you're not|going to use it again?
None left.
I'll get some more tomorrow.
It crossed my mind|she might still love me...
in spite of everything.
After all, it's no fun|hurting someone...
who means nothing to you.
Hey, Tiger. Come and get it.
Aren't you having any?
I'm going out.
Nothing in it?
Like what?
I don't know.|Maybe tomatoes, mushrooms?
Would you like some mushrooms?
Well, yeah. That would be nice.
You want some, go pick some.
Yes, I do.
Oh, no, he's not available.
Who's calling, please?
No. This is his nurse speaking.
What the...|Who says I'm not available?
Ah, you heard.
Yeah, very sad.
Who is it?
No. Quite impossible,|I'm afraid.
He's completely incapacitated.
I will.
You're welcome. Good-bye.
Who was it?
"Paris is out. Vieux jeu."
Beverly, you mean?|What did she want?
What did she want,|for God's sake?
How would I know?
You might have let me|speak to her.
I said, you might have|let me speak to her.
I heard you.
Jesus, Mimi, I never get to see|or speak to a soul these days.
It's like I'm in solitary.
Is it?
Look...
I know I deserve all I get.
I treated you like a monster.
I am a monster.
Tiger! You don't have the right|to criticize yourself.
That's my privilege.
- I know.|- I earned it.
But I promise,|I will never hurt you again.
You... hurt me?
Very funny.
And don't play with your zizi|while I'm gone.
There is no point.
Thank God you're home.
You missed me?
As much as you missed me|after you dumped me?
Oh, no, not that again.
Please, let's not have a scene.
Why not? I love scenes.
I've developed a taste for them.
In fact,|I can't do without them.
What is that?
What do you think it is?
What do you expect if you go out|and leave me alone all night?
I wet myself, of course.
Oh, poor Tiger.
I'd better change your diaper.
God, you stink.
Why don't you|just finish me off?
Why don't you O. D. Me...
or push me down the stairs|or something?
I almost forgot.
It's your birthday, isn't it?
Is it?
I didn't remember.
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, dear Oscar
Happy birthday to you
Although she kept me|starved of human contact...
she enjoyed taking me out...
because she knew how much|it hurt to be reminded...
of the simple little pleasures|that were denied me forevermore.
Antoine,|laisse le monsieur tranquille...
tu vois qu'il a bobo.
Funny. You might have|been good with kids.
Who knows?
You never will.|That's for sure.
It wasn't that I just didn't|want that child we made.
I didn't think|I was worthy of it.
You could still have some.
No fear of that.
I'm a safe fuck these days.
What do you mean?
That abortion|you so kindly paid for...
left me with an infection.
I was quite ill in Martinique.
Almost died,|as a matter of fact.
You never told me.
Well, I'm telling you now.
Oh, Christ, what a shit I was.|I despise myself.
I hate myself.
I hate myself worse|than you could ever hate me.
Don't kid yourself, Oscar.
No one could hate you|more than I do.
Why do you stay with me?
You really don't know?
Because you're precious to me,|more precious than ever before.
Here.
So there it was.
We needed each other, she and I.
It's getting awfully cold.
Mimi, the water's getting cold.
Oh, merde.|It's run out again.
I must speak to the concierge|about it.
Don't go away.
Ouais? Ouais et toi?
Non j'peux pas je suis|vraiment casse.
Non je voudrais bien mais|je suis vraiment casse.
Quais m'en plus j'ai rien| m'foutre sur le cul.
V ous bouffez a quelle heure?
Ah, laisse tomber ouf.
C'est wrai?
Ah, c'est cool de I'avoir|invite pour moi.
Moi remarque j'sais pas|je me le ferai bien quandmeme.
Ouais?
Ah, a doit etre beau.
Ouais, tu me la passeras?
Ouais?
Ouais.
That was great. Thank you.
You didn't know|I could cook, did you?
Thought I could|only shake a leg, huh?
- You shake a leg real good.|- Better than I cook?
Sure... Well, I mean, um, no.
You cook real good,|but you could dance even better.
You don't work at it.
What's the point?
I could never dance|as good as you.
Sure, you could.
Come on. You're special.
Isn't he special, Tiger?
Absolutely.
You see?|He loves to watch you dance.
He thinks you're gorgeous.
Right, Tiger?
Right.
How about that?|Look at that.
Get a load of that.|Come on.
Hey, Mims, you're crazy.
Come on.
Isn't that something?
And he's not gay, either.|That's very rare.
Show him your extension.
Come on.
How about that, Tiger?
You should try it sometime.
Come on, Basil.|Dance a little for Oscar.
- I don't know. I ate too much.|- Come on.
The poor baby gets so little fun|out of life these days.
No entertainment at all.
Well?
Come on! Don't stop!
Dance! Dance!
I'd grown accustomed|to being only half a man...
but that night,|I really hit rock bottom.
It was a kind of catharsis,|I guess.
We both knew|we'd never rediscover...
the same extremes|of passion and cruelty...
with another living soul.
Monsieur Oscar Benton...
consentez-vous|a prendre pour espouse...
Mademoiselle Micheline Bouvier?
Mademoiselle|Micheline Bouvier...
consentez-vous a prendre|pour epoux...
Monsieur Oscar Benton?
Conformement a la loi|je vous declare unis...
par les liens du mariage.
We were like the survivors|of a catastrophe so terrible...
it formed a bond between us...
shared by no one else|in the world.
So the relationship|had come full circle.
We'd reached a plateau.
The dust has settled since then,|but I live in constant dread.
I'm forever afraid of losing|what's left of her heart...
to some lucky bastard.
It feels strange|to be confessing this...
to someone who's hoping|he'll be the one.
Now don't deny it.
There's only room in this cabin|for one hypocrite.
If you're not going to stay|and have another drink...
you might as well go.
There's no more to tell.
I think I understand you|better now.
And her?
Yeah, and her.
Shit, shit, shit.
Look...
Let's be adult about this,|shall we?
Yeah, adult. That's the word.
Anything I can do,|you can do better. Feel free.
I won't object|if you have a little fling...
with that Italian, for example.
Taking the plunge at last?
I think I need a drink.
I said, I think I need a drink.|Can I get you one?
Can I have a whiskey, please?|No ice.
That was some stunt.
Pretty good for a guy|with two left feet.
Well, I don't pretend|to be a dancer.
Just kidding, Nigel.|I'm not so hot myself.
Will you look at that|Latin lover boy go?
Watch out. He'll snap her up.
Almost time.
Where is that|English rose of yours?
She'll miss all the fun|if she doesn't hurry up.
Fiona's not much of a sailor.|She's flat out on her bunk.
That is a disappointment.
Yeah, yeah.|Dosed herself on Dramamine.
Pity. Mimi and I were hoping...
to crack a bottle of champagne|with you later on...
the two of you.
A little farewell get-together|with our special friends.
All right, folks,|this is it.
You got something|you want to do this year...
you'd better hurry up.
We've got only about|ten seconds left.
Nine... eight...
seven... six...
five... four...
three... two...
one!
Well, baby?
Happy days, Oscar.
Sure.
Happy days.
Your good health.
You notice that I do not say,|"Happy New Year."
To those whose gaze|is focused on eternity...
one year|is the same as the next.
You don't say.
In that case, cheers.
Deliver a bottle of champagne|to room A-29.
On my tab.
Oscar Benton. OK?
All right,|boys and girls, that'll do.
Come on, stop that.
Is this any way to start|a new year?
Peace! Let's have some peace!
Shalom! Shalom!
All right, all right.|Settle down, boys and girls.
Why?
I thought...
You thought what?
But you said...
I mean, I know how|your story ends now.
No, you don't.
Not yet.
I think...
I think I've fallen|in love with you.
Come on. I'm just a fantasy,|an amusement on a boring voyage.
You mean it's still just a game?
Did I ever say it wasn't?
But...
I'm truly, sincerely|in love with you.
That's why you will|never have me.
You're hurting me terribly.
The way you're|hurting your wife?
She doesn't know about us.|She knows nothing.
She's looking right at us.
Having a good time?
Darling, this is wonderful.
- Yes, isn't it?|- How are you feeling?
Good as new,|thanks to your ministrations.
There.
Now you can make|your New Year's resolutions.
Do you think it's safe|to drink on an empty stomach?
Who wants to be safe?
I'm feeling dangerous tonight.
That's the spirit, Fiona.
I knew that your presence...
would add a little spice|to tonight's proceedings.
That was a very kind thought|of yours.
I've never seen my husband...
in action|with another woman before.
Oscar had me woken|with a bottle of champagne.
You call that action?
I don't think he was|getting anywhere with her.
It's a shame.
Maybe I made a mistake|about you, Nigel.
Maybe your wife|would've been a better bet.
Come on, stop sulking, man.
You ought to be glad|they're getting it on so well.
Come on. Put a funny hat on.|It'll make you feel better.
Throw some streamers at them.
Attaboy!
It's the "Titanic"|all over again!
Nearer my God to thee
Nearer to thee
I know how you feel, Nigel.
I've been a loser all my life.
Join the club.
Don't touch me!
If you weren't a cripple,|I'd knock your fucking head off.
Go ahead if it'll help.
I deserve your hatred.
I'm abominable. I'm pathetic.
No, not that way, Nigel.
Nigel, you better hurry.
There'll be nothing left|for you.
Bloody hell!
Is she here?
Did you ever see such|an allegory of grace and beauty?
Two nymphs sleeping off|their amatory exertions.
You really missed something,|Nigel.
Fiona was a revelation.
All fire.
I doubt if you've ever really|made the most of her.
Swine!
Get your goddamn hands off me.
You prick.
You don't deserve to hear|the rest of my story.
My.
Here, give it.
Just give me that thing,|all right?
Otherwise you're going|to hurt somebody.
Come on, man,|Don't be a bloody fool.
- Give it to me.|- Hurt somebody?
Not anymore.
We were just too greedy, baby.
That was all.
Hello, sweetheart.
My father says to wish you|a Happy New Year.