1
FACES PLACES
We didn't meet on a road.
We didn't meet at a bus stop.
I can't see.
When's the next one?
In 3 minutes.
That's too long.
I'll walk.
We didn't meet in a bakery.
Hello.
- 2 chocolate eclairs, please.
- I just sold them.
Too bad. Thanks anyway.
Goodbye sir.
- How much?
- 5 euros, please.
We didn't meet
on the dancefloor.
I remember images from your films.
Clo's face...
Mur Murs in Los Angeles...
Those giant murals
made such an impression on me.
I loved seeing
out the train window
the eyes you pasted on cisterns.
You wowed me at the Pantheon
with thousands of faces.
You photographed old women in Cuba,
and old men.
And that wrinkled couple
you pasted on the crackled city.
It's funny
we didn't cross paths sooner.
I made the first move.
I went to see her, Rue Daguerre.
Then she came to see me.
I introduced her to my team.
Emile, Guillaume, Etienne
and the rest.
The moment I arrived,
I wanted to take portraits of JR.
I soon realized he wouldn't
remove his glasses.
I thought of Jean-Luc Godard,
with his dark glasses
glued to his face.
Though one day,
he took them off for me
for a few moments.
That was a long time ago.
I was 33.
Now I'm the one who's 33.
And I'd say you've seen
about 88 springtimes.
Alright already, you know my age!
It'll be fun making a film together.
That's our starting point.
Say, you never work in a duo,
do you?
A giant leap forward!
When did people say that?
When Armstrong walked on the moon.
About our project...
I like the spontaneity of it.
But what'll we do?
Make images,
together but differently.
Go-time. You game?
You bet.
I'm always game
to go toward villages,
toward simple landscapes,
toward faces.
This is the truck
I take all over the world.
People go in the back,
like a photo booth.
In 5 seconds,
the photo comes out the side,
in large format.
As soon as we hit the road,
we made a stop.
Miss, would you care to inaugurate?
Inaugurate, please.
But perhaps you could
remove your glasses for the photo.
Let's see your pretty eyes.
I'll lend you my baguette.
We have several on hand.
Now then...
you sit here.
Make sure you're centered.
Perfect.
Hold the baguette between your teeth.
Nice and straight.
Ready... set... Perfect.
I closed my eyes.
- That's ok.
- Bonehead.
On the right, there.
They didn't do it, only me.
It's like a game.
In fact, JR is fulfilling
my greatest desire.
To meet new faces
and photograph them,
so they don't fall down the holes
in my memory.
We hit the road
whenever we could.
Here and there, in France.
We headed toward the North.
A vibrant region.
But in my mind,
I mainly had images
of black slagheaps.
And also
a collection of postcards
about miners
I'd held onto.
As for me,
I couldn't wait to go see
those 2 breast-shaped hills.
Drive down the brick-lined streets,
some of which are now deserted.
Meet people and get some ideas.
We heard about a row of miners' houses
slated for demolition.
There, we met Jeanine,
the last inhabitant on the street.
I'm the sole survivor
in these miners' houses.
I said I'd be the last to go,
and I'm still here.
Good for you.
They won't throw me out.
I have too many memories here.
I said, "You don't understand."
No one can understand
what we lived through.
JR and Guillaume put together
some old pictures of miners.
We decided to paste them
on the houses.
We always start with the feet,
so they're firmly on the ground.
This is beautiful to us.
I'll say this right now,
it's beautiful to me.
Back in 1956, I was going on 14.
Yes, I was a pit boy.
Mining's a trade
you have to learn.
30 years down in the pit.
To earn a day's pay,
you had to plant 150 props.
After that I did coal.
That was very, very hard.
I suffered a heck of a lot.
We went back to see Jeanine
to find out more about her life.
She talked readily about her father,
who was a miner.
He'd set out with his bread,
a great big loaf this long,
full of butter,
to eat down in the pit.
If he had any left,
he'd put it in his satchel
and bring it back up.
We were kids and we'd run
to meet our dad
with his "alouette" bread.
What's that? Alouette bread?
Our bit of grimy bread.
How we loved it!
We loved that bread
because it came up from the mine.
The hat's called a "barrette."
I remember my grandpa
would come home
and get undressed,
except for the barrette.
He removed it
just before getting in the tub.
My grandma'd wash his back.
That's how it was.
We went to our local assistant's
father's house.
On his wall was a picture
of the miner's bath
that I had a postcard of.
Sometimes I'd wash my father's back.
I'd see all the bruises
from the coal hitting him.
It's the same but reversed.
That happens.
Very observant of you.
I see you working
with all these guys,
like a professional paster.
I like pasting best.
People think
I'm a photographer,
but most of the time
I'm climbing scaffolds.
We celebrated the miners.
But Agns and I also wanted
to honor Jeanine, the resistant,
by pasting her face on her home.
What can I say?
Nothing.
I don't know what to say.
There's nothing to say.
Let's have a hug.
Better, right?
Jeanine, it's not sad!
We're friends now.
I can't get over it.
We wanted to pay homage to you.
On a large scale, like this.
Thanks for the water
you gave us for the paste.
We drained her whole tank!
You know, I often think
of Jeanine and her father.
I wonder how long
she'll hold out in her home.
Attachment to a home
is a powerful thing.
I'm more the type
who goes here and there.
It's nice here.
It is pretty nice.
Too bad you can't reach the ground.
You're stuck.
You need me to help you down.
I'm ruining myself. My legs, my eyes.
You look blurry.
Here's what I suggest.
We get as many images as we can
before it's too late.
Too late for me?
That's not what I meant.
You said it.
We're getting to know each other,
but let's discuss our film.
What I liked
was meeting amazing people
by chance.
So you want to carry on that way,
with no plan or itinerary?
Yes. Chance has always been
my best assistant.
Do you think chance
will work for both of us?
Maybe...
If I give you some melon,
can we set out again?
Alright. But where?
I met this guy hitchhiking.
Let's go see him.
You're visiting our region?
Yes, actually,
we're looking for walls
where we can paste large photos.
What kind of photos?
Pictures of people. Folks we meet.
Like you.
Is this your barn?
Yes.
I'd love to paste something on it.
We're in Chrence.
Yet another coincidence,
I know this village well.
I came to see Nathalie Sarraute,
a writer I liked and admired.
Her house was 100 yards
from this barn.
You're a farmer. How big is your farm?
How many workers?
My farm is 500 acres.
I work alone.
500 acres, all alone?
Yes. 500 acres, alone.
I also do contract work
for other people.
I give them a quote.
For example,
it could be just for harvesting.
I have set rates.
It costs so much per acre, period.
I can also do a job from A to Z,
from sowing,
planting the seeds in the ground,
up through the harvest.
When you add my 1,500-acre
contract work to my own farm,
I'm farming 2,000 acres.
I love innovation.
Tractors today are loaded
with computerized technology.
I get a real kick out of that.
I've got my tractors,
the tools I hitch behind the tractors,
my two combine harvesters,
a rotary harrow,
a plough,
a tine stubble cultivator,
a seed drill,
a roller-compactor and a tiller.
So you don't do anything.
Nowadays,
I consider myself
a passenger in the tractor.
How has that changed your job?
Is it better or worse now?
We've grown antisocial, naturally.
In the past,
farmers with 500-acre farms
would employ at least 3 or 4 people,
whereas today...
Today you farm 2,000 acres.
Today I work alone,
and I farm 2,000 acres.
Alone.
Do you like being alone?
I do like it,
but I'm glad I can go home
to my family every night.
I'm imagining that guy on his tractor,
2,000 acres sprawling out before him...
How lonely!
I'm the opposite,
I work in a team.
I'm rarely alone.
But I also like
going home at night.
Say, you've never told me
if you have someone at home?
Say, we're not done
with the farmer yet!
True.
With his big machines,
he lent you a telehandler
for putting our picture up.
Looks like you're having a ball!
How does it look?
I can't see, get out of the way!
Look.
Gonna keep it?
I think I'll leave it up there, yes.
Think you'll be the village star'?
I already am.
- What's the population?
- 140.
It was nice of you to agree to it.
Now everyone will know
whose barn this is.
Exactly.
I'll keep a close eye
on my stored harvest.
We headed to the South.
I'd been told about
a long-ago love affair,
with a picture to go with it.
So...
her name was Emilie,
and his was Emile.
It's a beautiful love story.
When Emile met
my great-grandmother,
perhaps at a dance,
he wanted to marry her.
He asked her parents,
but they refused.
So he had to kidnap her.
He kidnapped her
in order to marry her.
I'll let you photograph the photo.
It would look nice in a locket,
or in an oval frame.
We'll find one at a flea market.
Right or left?
Left. To the right of the strip.
I really love them.
Hello, little brother!
It's a picture of our ancestors,
right on their wall.
On their very own faade.
It's truly a great joy.
- You want to be part of it.
- Selfie time.
Family transmission and all...
Our turn now.
Great.
It's not working.
We'll put it on social media.
Tonight.
My own daughter used it
for her Facebook profile.
The poster's no problem.
The problem is the scaffolding
on public property.
You need a permit.
But the poster's fine.
Between you and me,
you can send any and all fines
to Agns Varda.
Come to me
with compliments and the like.
Ok. Everything's negotiable.
All traffic penalties
go on Agns' license.
You have a driver's license?
Yes, but I don't drive anymore.
I'm sensible.
Let's go see a lovely lady
I want you to meet.
She works at that caf.
Agns said you agreed to it.
Sure, why not?
Paste what?
Her picture,
on the wall outside.
This is actually my dress.
Agns asked if they could
borrow it for the photo.
Would your collection
happen to include
a small parasol?
We want to photograph
a woman holding a parasol.
I don't have one.
- Let me check with my parents.
- Thanks.
I'll steal your seat.
Ms. Varda, I found one!
My mom's bridal parasol.
Vintage 1973.
It's beautiful!
- You may use it for the photo.
- Thanks.
Here, I'll show you.
Alright.
Sit on the edge,
legs like this...
My shoes are a fright.
I'll take them off.
Barefoot's good.
Just sit down and relax.
Other way round.
Right, ok.
Barefoot's pretty.
May I have your glasses, Nathalie?
Look up.
Not too much.
She's not hearing voices.
One more.
A little further back.
- Move the parasol away.
- No, closer.
Make up your minds!
Last one. 1, 2, 3...
While the photos are being printed,
we catch up with Vincent,
who takes us
to the top of the village.
My father was the bell-ringer
in the bell tower,
and I've been doing it
for 10 years now.
We'd spoken to his father earlier.
I started ringing bells at 14.
I knew Daniel Tamisier,
the former bell-ringer.
He was brilliant at it.
He taught me church bell music.
I passed on the love of bells
to my son.
The bells have names. The Alarm,
the Ladies' Bell,
the Maidens' Bell,
the Tenor.
First,
we get the momentum going...
They get going on their own, right?
You don't have to pull so hard
the whole time?
They'll be pulling me.
In a minute,
you won't hear me anymore.
We'll start with a nice C...
It's pretty weird to have my head
smaller than my foot.
I didn't realize the picture
would be so big.
I worked nearby. Seeing people
take my picture every day bothered me.
But the compliments were nice.
Everyone said how pretty the photo was.
So that was nice.
But I'm pretty shy, so...
it made me uncomfortable.
I wish it had made you feel good.
It's pretty weird
to see a picture of yourself
on Internet, on...
on Instagram, everywhere.
It's weird.
She's been photographed
millions of times.
It's incredible.
We hired her as a waitress back in...
late May, early summer.
Now she's become
Bonnieux's most famous face.
What do you think
of your mom up there?
She's super pretty.
Indeed. I agree with you.
Push the button.
Can we see your selfie?
Wow, not bad.
You're good!
I'm no expert though.
Tickle tickle!
When the siren sounds,
hurry to the nearest assembly area.
In exceptional situations, your guide
may ask you to put on a gas mask.
Claude is on the left.
He's our contact at the factory.
We were introduced to Agns
by Jimmy,
a mutual acquaintance.
Jimmy runs the local movie theater,
Le Cinmatographe.
Cinema is part of our history
here in Chteau-Arnoux-St-Auban.
A lot of factory people
go to the cinema.
And now we cinema people
are at the factory.
We'll use the walls.
Not the incline,
the side on the right.
Right or left.
We could use both.
We could do something
with that water tower.
Something that circles.
What's all this salt for?
All this white...
It sets me dreaming.
Salt has been our raw material
since the creation
of the chloride site.
In electrolysis, we separate
the two molecules that form salt,
chlorine and sodium.
Then we use them to make
hydrochloric acid.
So much for dreams.
Risk of chemical burns from sodium.
Authorized personnel only.
I see safety warnings everywhere.
Is it dangerous to work here?
His job is to inspect
equipment and facilities
to ensure the safety
of the people who work here
and make the products.
He's the youngest worker here.
His name is Amaury.
I was really drawn to this job.
Learning how a factory works,
understanding the chemical hazards...
I'm responsible
for averting accidents.
It's exciting
to have a meaningful job.
What leisure activities
are there at the factory?
Do you play soccer?
No. Table tennis.
- You play ping-pong?
- Yep.
- Are you any good?
- I'm not bad.
Look at him go!
Nothing gets past him.
Let me try against Amaury.
Now he's playing.
For our photos
in the passageway,
we'll use employees
from each department here.
They all happen to work
different hours.
We had our first group
in the morning.
Anyone can take a class picture.
We need you to help make it unique.
Naked! Exactly!
We need ideas like that.
They don't want to undress.
Ok, but this man made a suggestion,
he's making his case.
I suggest
you put your hands
up to your faces.
Open hands are so pretty.
Yes, that's nice.
Everybody look at me. 1, 2...
3...
Beautiful!
Now, everyone raise your hands
up in the air, that way.
Watch out for people's heads.
Everyone look at me.
Great!
After the shift change,
we did another group.
Reach with both arms.
Throw your body into it.
Let's go everyone!
Lean this way.
Great. 1, 2, 3...
Boom! Thanks.
Now we'll get to work.
- I like this.
- Arms up.
Arms up this way,
so we can put the others
the other way.
It's good to have
one group going one way,
one the other.
Like they want to come together.
No, this one at the very end.
It has to reach the wall.
I'm not in it.
I'm not in this group.
We'll see once you start pasting.
- You can see the first strip.
- Ok.
We find Claude.
I was concerned
about the rough wall.
I wasn't sure it'd work,
but it looks great.
Where are you?
I think this is me.
Could you stand
right underneath yourself?
That's great!
Is this ok?
Too bad some of the employees
are missing.
The idea of being in a group,
mixing together all the departments,
all the workers
from different shifts,
management, too...
I see their faces up there.
It shows we can all get along!
- Show us.
- Stand under your picture.
- Where are you?
- Here.
You make a great duo.
I was wondering how you met?
On a dating site, Meetic.
Goes to show!
That's a joke,
and I don't like that joke.
I'm not a mystic!
I'm down-to-earth.
It's surprising.
- Art is meant to surprise us, right?
- True.
Have a nice day.
Each face tells a story.
And that day...
Today's my last day.
I'm taking early retirement.
- Today?
- Today.
- It's your last day here?
- Yes indeed.
I feel like I've reached
the edge of a cliff,
and tonight
I'll be leaping off it.
I'll discover lots of things.
It'll be completely different.
A whole new life.
Overnight,
I'll find myself at home.
What will you do tomorrow?
Tomorrow?
I think I'll sleep in!
Tomorrow you'll sleep.
How about the next day?
This is the first time
I've ever retired.
I'm heading into the unknown.
Time to tackle the water tower.
And where there is water,
there are fish.
This is the head.
Right, like this.
- Where's the big flounder?
- Already up there.
Up in the cherry picker,
the pasters are having
a whale of a time.
Are you coming?
You know my stairs hurt!
Don't dawdle.
It's beautiful up here.
You can look for me.
That was my exercise for the week.
Not too shabby.
What do you think, from here?
Looks good.
The fish are happy now.
Living the high life.
Do you remember
where we caught these fish?
I don't know.
- Like this?
- A little lower.
Tilt the camera down. Ok, go.
Check the focus.
There, you're good.
Goon.
Boom! Excellent.
I don't see any black...
Your hand's in the way.
I only see its belly.
A little lower...
Not sure what I got.
He's got a beautiful fin.
The stuff of champions.
A little lower.
There.
Great.
Was it in focus?
Just for fun.
And what fun!
I want its things hanging!
I'll add this.
No, it's nice as it is.
I'll get him like this.
That looks...
Argh, he's slipping!
Wonderfully disgusting.
That's what I wanted, a monkfish.
What a nightmare.
We took the cheeks and everything.
The eyes are still there.
Look a little bit...
You let me come, so I'm filming.
Ms. Varda,
look as far as you can to the left.
Good.
I'm touching your eye.
Don't move.
Here comes the shot.
Are you ok?
You weren't scared?
No, I wasn't. I'll tell you why.
I always think of Buuel's film,
An Andalusian Dog.
Right, with the big razor blade.
You see the eye,
then in comes the knife.
So a shot's no big deal.
Shall we sit for a moment?
I have an eye disease.
I need injections, check-ups
and examinations.
What do the examinations consist of?
Looking at letters.
Does it look right, Agns?
It's good,
the bottom is blurry, but...
the letters
need to move a little.
Move how?
- Up and down a little.
- Got it.
- Go tell them.
- Right away.
Move up and down a little!
Now I'm happy.
That's what I see.
You see blurry,
and you're happy.
You see everything dark,
and you're happy.
It all depends
on how one sees things.
With some distance.
Or from above.
We did a pirouette,
and landed in Pirou.
Pirou-Plage.
A village that was half-built,
then abandoned.
Now a ghost town.
Wonderful.
Hello.
This is miraculous.
We thought it was empty
and suddenly it's full.
Thanks for coming.
- I'm only talking to the kids.
- Right, they're your size!
We hope to inhabit, re-inhabit,
bring some life
to this place
where life has vanished.
Using faces and a bit of energy,
even if only for a day.
Let's try.
Call it a portrait party
and a picnic.
We brought a giant photo booth truck.
We want to take pictures of you.
It'd be great
if you could cut out your faces,
so when they go up,
they'll be closer together.
3, 2, 1...
I need a brush over here.
A group forms.
Others settle in.
I used to come here as a kid.
I watched the houses
fall into ruin over time.
They were never finished.
It's strange.
They came.
The neighbors, the curious,
the inhabitants of Pirou-Plage
and nearby villages,
the passersby,
a dreamer,
a photographer
and a postman.
Hello!
- Got a letter for me?
- Yep.
Thank you.
See ya!
Have a nice day.
A postman is important
to a village.
I serve as a link.
Not long ago,
a bit further up the road,
I brought Mrs. Fournier
her bread every day.
I delivered her bottled gas,
her meat from the butcher's.
We've known each other a long time.
Twenty years, I think.
That's right.
One day, you surprised me.
You brought me this.
I didn't know you were a painter.
It made me happy,
giving that to you.
In your eyes,
what does it represent?
Maybe it's you!
A tiny woman and a tall postman?
Exactly.
Watch out for the cat hair!
I've got an ugly mug!
Not true!
I used to do my rounds by bike.
I'd go in the fields.
Fill up my satchel
with melons and tomatoes
as I handed out letters.
- Why?
- The farmers were generous.
Seriously, melons and tomatoes!
My satchel was on the bike.
They'd hear me coming,
I had my radio on the handlebars.
This is a portrait gallery
in the open air.
I'm Pony, that's my stage name.
I'm 75.
I'll be 76 next April.
I don't get much of a pension,
but I manage.
Old people don't eat as much.
None of that morning,
noon and night stuff.
You eat when you're hungry.
Least I do.
What'd you retire from,
if you never worked?
I get that pension...
The maximum... What is it?
Maximum or minimum something?
For people who never worked.
I'm afraid it's the minimum.
That's it.
Your turn.
Good luck!
3, 2, 1...
Great picture!
So handsome.
So expressive.
So handsome!
Pony has invited us to visit his realm.
He's very proud of it.
Nice here, isn't it?
You can do your thing
and nobody bugs you.
You're on the planet.
People threw out these caps.
I picked 'em up
and made stuff with 'em.
You can make stuff with anything.
All it takes is an idea.
Pony tells us
he has hammered 1,300 caps.
And the clock works.
I was born in the shadow of a star.
My mother, the moon,
gave me her coolness.
My father, the sun,
gave me his warmth
and the universe to live in.
Imagine that.
I have so much in this life.
We met an artist
who loves words.
Every new person I meet
feels like my last one.
Your last one, your last one...
You keep saying that.
But we bounce back like cats.
A perching cat makes us wise.
You're playing the wise grandma.
And you're playing
the spirited young man.
Watch and learn
from the sheep instead.
I'm forced to admit
the young lambs on the outside
are leading the dance.
Look Agns,
an animal eating a tree.
They're goats.
Goats without horns?
Is there such a thing?
Let's investigate.
Follow me.
The goats are in here.
I've got 240 goats in production.
In high season
we make about 800 cheeses a day.
Why don't they have horns?
When they're little,
we burn off their horns.
That wasn't done in the past.
Does it hurt them?
No, it takes just 20 seconds.
Why do it?
If they have horns, they fight.
They can break
each other's legs and ribs.
Goats are dominant animals.
They compete for dominance.
They're always at war.
Well, they seem very docile
and obedient for the milking machines.
They head right in.
They love to play,
jump up on the logs.
It's their playground.
They're free to come and go.
They have many acres
all to themselves.
You have one of the only herds
where the goats have horns.
To my mind,
if a goat has horns,
she keeps them.
I'm not going to remove them.
That just seems...
I can find no logical explanation,
unless you see them
as a product...
required to attain
a certain rate of return,
so you eliminate any parameters
that might make them less profitable
and cut off their horns.
You burn them off.
But if you want to do this
in a way that respects the animals,
you have to leave them intact.
If they have horns, they keep them.
Sure, they fight.
Human beings fight too.
So...
Goats on the road, no doubt.
Excuse me.
I know what that car honk means.
We went back the next day.
I like this principled woman.
We wanted to know more about her.
And about this mare.
Fanfan?
Fanfan guards the property.
And she guards the goats.
If something happens,
if some goats wander off,
she whinnies to alert us.
She's extremely sweet to visitors.
With my daughter
and me, she's a bit aloof.
But she's warming up.
How many of you work here?
There are two of us.
I handle
most of the dairy production.
I use traditional methods,
no preservatives.
He tends to the animals,
taking them to pasture
and milking them.
- How many goats do you have?
- About 60.
You have no milking machines.
We used to.
Mechanical ones, electric ones.
But actually,
the noise of the machines
and all the hassle of cleaning them
made it not worth it.
We came to realize
milking is such a peaceful moment.
Agns loves cats and goats.
So I figured she'd like it
if I put up a big goat
with horns.
Nice surprise,
at the end of my workday,
to see the goat, all finished.
It's cool, it's great.
But why this goat?
For fun, and other reasons.
Well it's cool, it's great.
Let me explain it to you.
JR and I are investigating.
I see.
Goat farmers want hornless herds,
so they're removing them.
I didn't know about that
until you told me just now.
This horn thing.
Most people who see the photo
won't have heard about it.
Well, I'll tell them.
Once again,
it's the same old problem
here on the planet.
Always producing
more, more, more.
That's why they remove
the goats' horns?
Goats were born to have horns,
not to be hornless.
I say keep 'em
and put balls on the tips,
like With bulls.
Rubber balls.
Could be funny. Or clown noses.
Rubber ones.
It'll look cute,
and you can use different colors
to tell them apart.
Purple, multicolor, zebra,
whatever you like.
Great idea, I love it.
Very imaginative.
We're glad we met you.
I enjoyed meeting you, too.
Your cause is great, Madam.
Keep up the fight.
And I'll keep your goat.
All right?
Me and the heavens.
See you around.
We wanted
our usual souvenir photos.
This'd look great
on little porcelain plates.
Dessert plates!
My turn to take your picture.
Those blasted glasses!
It's not friendly.
You're putting
a black screen between us.
I've had it. Enough, enough!
Stop busting my chops
over my glasses.
Busting your chops? How rude!
We're trying to work
and you're hassling me.
Cut it out. Let's move on.
Go take a hike!
He made me lose
the thread of my transition
from the goats
to a photograph I took in my youth.
It was in Normandy.
A white goat had fallen off a cliff.
She inspired this composition
of a naked man gazing at the sea,
a child, and the goat.
The year was 1954.
The place was Saint-Aubin-sur-Mer.
A beach I know well.
I've often roamed the region.
I love this coastline,
with its deserted beaches.
Once,
during a long motorcycle ride
between Saint-Aubin
and Sainte-Marguerite,
I discovered this bunker.
It had fallen from the cliff
to the beach,
and was sticking up.
It was a blockhouse
the Germans had built on the cliff
to defend the coastline.
I thought,
"What could I paste on this?"
I'm always asking myself
that question.
But this project
is close to my heart.
Agns must be part of it.
Step 1.
As with every pasting project, Agns,
we scout our location
and figure out
how to bring in our equipment.
Etienne takes measurements.
Better find out about the tides.
This morning
I checked the level at high tide.
The water came up
about 2.6 meters from the ground.
It came up to about there.
- What time was that, 11:30?
- Yes.
On pasting day,
we'll need to know
how long we have at low tide,
and what image
we're going to paste.
I was wondering
if we could put this on the bunker.
It won't look good.
You can't have the man
and the goat
and still be within...
What else have you got?
Photos you took there back then.
How about this one?
Another composition.
In the ruins.
You got everyone naked.
Nudes are beautiful.
It's a painterly approach,
it's artistic...
Just admit you like naked men.
Sure, naked men are beautiful.
Women, too.
These were the two guys
I had with me.
Fouli Elia and Guy Bourdin.
I made a version with Guy alone.
We could try, but...
visually, on the bunker,
it won't work.
Ok, we'll find something else
for the bunker.
And let's paste Guy
on a wall with holes.
Or on a ruin.
Will a ruin on a ruin work?
It's called
a picture within a picture.
Or how about we try a house
under construction, with holes?
Guillaume, might you be amenable
to using a cinderblock house?
One with holes.
Why not?
They're just under construction.
Right, it might work.
Guillaume, come!
Etienne, everybody come.
Agns!
You're in Normandy,
one of the oldest regions in France,
and you picked
the ugliest house around!
Nothing ugly about beginnings.
Let's go inside and see!
I'm just saying we're always
looking for beautiful old walls.
Why not try the ugly cinderblocks
of a building being built?
You're always making fun!
I'm trying to find you some surfaces,
with holes!
So JR's artistic director
and you, his pasting supervisor,
don't agree to pasting this?
Same scale as the window,
or larger?
We like to go large.
It needs to be
on the human scale.
I admit it may not be a good idea,
but what matters most to me
in this region is Guy Bourdin.
Why go back to Guy Bourdin's house?
Remembering the dead is good,
but some places
more readily bring them back.
He went on to become
a famous photographer,
but when I knew him,
he was a young fellow
from La Chapelle-sur-Dun,
who lived with his grandma.
Did you ever work with him?
No, but we saw each other often.
And we did go on a shoot together,
along with Fouli Elia,
using one of those
big plate cameras
with 18x24 negatives.
Guy often posed for me.
He was a good model,
because he understood
what I wanted to do.
I made another portrait of him here.
Near this beach shack.
I'd love to see that photo.
Feels like it was yesterday.
I shot it from here.
I remember the exact instant
when I placed the camera.
I looked at Guy, and then,
I pressed the shutter release
and took that photograph.
That image.
I may remember my pictures of him
better than I remember him.
Too much wind.
Wait for me.
No, I'm leaving. Too much wind.
Why don't we put that image
on the bunker?
I'd like that.
Would you put it up as it is?
It'd be good to tilt it a little.
The sea was still far away
when we began.
While JR was on a ladder,
I got a visit from the mayor
of Sainte-Marguerite.
I don't know when it fell.
I think I came beforehand.
We knocked it down in 1995.
Right, that's it.
We deliberately knocked it down.
Part of it was hanging over.
The mayor at the time was afraid...
It's pretty funny to have to push
a big rock like that.
Yes, and I love the way
it planted itself on the beach
like a work of art.
Recently, a calf fell off the cliff.
He'd just been born,
back that way.
He'd just been born
and hadn't yet learned
about danger.
And he fell.
I couldn't have imagined
better for Guy.
Here he is,
like a child in his cradle.
Resting in peace.
The next morning,
we went to see.
The tide had washed the image away.
Ephemeral images
are my stock-in-trade.
But the sea worked fast.
The sea always has the last word.
And the wind, and the sand...
The image had vanished.
We'll vanish too!
The film won't be finished,
and I won't have made
JR's glasses vanish.
I'd heard about this little cemetery,
where Cartier-Bresson is buried.
I wanted to go there with JR.
Here they are.
This is Henri
and this is Martine Franck,
also a good photographer.
One for Henri...
and one for Martine.
Quite a few people have come
to this secluded place.
I remember his photo
of a man jumping over a puddle.
What an eye he had.
People associate
"the decisive moment"
with Cartier-Bresson.
Apparently
he didn't like the expression.
He once said he didn't want it used.
This is one of the tiniest cemeteries
I've ever seen.
How many are there? Ten people.
Not even.
It's well-hidden.
We had this plan
to go see Cartier-Bresson's grave.
And we did it.
I didn't take any pictures.
Did you?
Just a small one.
I'll take one before we leave.
Are you afraid of death?
I don't think so.
I think about it a lot.
I don't think I'm afraid, but...
I might be at the end.
I'm looking forward to it.
Really, why?
Because that'll be that.
Good evening.
I'm struck by how
you always wear
that hat and those glasses.
So I am as I am,
and you're in your costume.
I mean,
in your chosen appearance.
Your haircut is like a costume, too.
Why'd you choose two colors?
I like color.
And I didn't want to be white
like that darling dog,
who's all white!
You're all white, pooch.
- We've gone off subject.
- No biggie.
What is the subject, actually?
You are
extremely caring
toward old people.
True.
Where's that come from?
Well,
they've always been around.
I grew up with old folks.
Grandparents?
Yeah.
My grandmothers lived with me.
I looked after an old lady
who lived across the hall.
They were meant to look after me,
but I ended up looking after them.
I see.
Do you still have a grandmother?
One, yes.
She just turned 100 this year.
That's wonderful.
Can I go meet her?
Grandma, this is Agns.
Hello, madam.
I've wanted to meet you
ever since I met him.
- Really?
- Sure, grandmothers are important.
He speaks of you often.
- Does he?
- Yes.
- So I came to see you in person.
- Thank you.
Does he keep
his glasses on with you?
- You accept him like this?
- I do.
You don't remove your hat
and glasses for your grandmother?
He's always like this.
That's my grandson!
Tell me, when he was little,
what did you call him?
- I don't remember.
- A nickname?
My little sweetheart...
That's nice.
But it works for anybody.
No special nickname?
My little fellow.
That's lovely.
That's all she had to say about it.
Everyone has their secrets.
Dark glasses must run in the family.
Hush, hustle...
and hop!
Le Havre harbor.
I managed to get you here
after all.
I'd never been to Le Havre.
Except in a song.
During the war,
we would learn old songs.
I was 13,
and I strummed a little guitar.
To the port of Le Havre they came.
Three big ships filled with grain.
Apples and pears,
turnips and cabbage.
Figs and strawberries
and sweet grapes.
Three ladies came down to haggle.
Kind sailor,
how much is your wheat?
Climb aboard ladies,
and have a peek.
I brought you here to meet
these guys,
Christophe, Denis and David,
who worked with me,
along with many others.
This is where
we put the eyes on the ship.
All these guys here
really worked hard on the project.
Why did you do that for JR?
For his pretty eyes,
but we can't see 'em!
Right.
She wants to get my glasses off!
You didn't mention
our project is about villages.
- So the containers...
- This isn't a village.
He tried to convince me
the docks are like a village.
- True, right?
- True.
True,
and we're well outside of town.
When I told her
there were only men,
she warmed to the idea.
I asked where the women were.
He said
I'd have to find them myself.
That's when I asked your wives,
since you have wives,
to meet me somewhere.
Here we have three women.
Three blonds,
dressed in black.
Do you know why I called you here?
All three of you
are wives of dockworkers.
Much is made
of the dockworkers' powerful union.
Dockworkers, dockworkers...
Their wives are rarely mentioned.
I thought this time,
I'd give you the floor.
Morgane?
I'm a schedule planner
for a transportation company.
My husband is fleet manager
at the Terminal de France.
Nathalie?
I'm a hairdressing instructor,
and my husband organizes
training courses for dockworkers.
And Sophie?
I'm a port truck driver.
A truck driver!
- Licensed to drive big rigs?
- You bet.
How many women drive big rigs?
In my company, I'm the only one.
Out of 80 drivers.
That sounds about right.
What size trucks do you drive?
45-ton trucks, the biggest ones.
So,
when we met
Christophe, Denis and David,
they told us about their jobs,
the strikes...
What's your position?
I actually get pretty angry
when they get criticized.
I love their esprit de corps,
I love...
I love their solidarity.
I support...
I support the dockworkers,
always.
It's true,
I always stand behind Christophe.
I stand behind him.
It's a wonderful profession.
Why do you say behind
and not beside?
No, I always stand beside him.
Beside him.
- Sophie?
- They must defend their positions.
Fight to maintain rights
obtained by their parents,
by their fathers,
who went on strike in the past.
So I support them.
Is dockworker
a job that runs in families?
Yes.
For all of you?
Our project is to take portraits
of you three...
And paste them on containers.
It'll be our pleasure, Agns.
Faces are beautiful.
But it's good to see
a woman standing tall.
We're ready now.
You can take off your little vests.
Our cloakroom boys
will take them for you.
Hang on!
Head a tad lower... That's it.
Look this way, eyes open...
Keep the scarf, it's pretty.
Hold it, let me see.
That's right,
the legs are perfect.
Look at me...
I like your laughing eyes.
Smile, just with your eyes.
We want you to be like
three big statues, three totems,
up there,
entering this world of men,
finding your place.
A place of honor, for once.
Up we go.
Remember the last time
we took an elevator?
We were at the Louvre.
Rising to a challenge.
We wanted to poke
a little fun at Godard.
He'd had three of his characters
run at top speed
down the Louvre's Grand Gallery
to break a record
for crossing the museum.
I saw that film.
Bande Part, in black and white.
You're lucky to know Godard.
I no longer run, but I had you.
How beautiful!
Bellini...
Del Sarto...
How beautiful!
Lorenzo Costa...
Ghirlandaio...
Botticelli...
Raphael...
There!
Arcimboldo...
Summer,
Spring.
Totem women, yes.
But brave, too.
Prepared to sit
right inside their own hearts.
How good it feels to be here!
Such a feeling of freedom!
I'm so happy to be up here.
It's calm.
It's big.
I don't like being alone.
I don't like heights,
I don't like being alone.
This is both at once.
I'm pretty scared.
I feel like I dominate everything.
It feels good, I like it.
I feel...
I feel tall, I feel strong.
This'll draw curious onlookers.
Dockworkers are talking about it.
Wondering who these women are.
We said they're our wives
and told them about the project.
I think pride alone doesn't describe it.
Everyone got so involved.
You know, it's...
onward and upward.
We're moving forward,
beyond all the clichs.
They're boxed in.
But not for long.
I can't see them well,
they're far away.
But I can see they're birdwomen.
We'll photograph up close
her eyes that can't see far away.
Now then, where were we?
I think it was fine.
Let me take one.
Look...
Superb.
The wrinkles are beautiful.
You've got muscles in your wrinkles!
- What? You do!
- I agreed to this.
I'll play along.
We've done your eyes,
your hands...
Might as well do your feet.
- They're beautiful.
- Get my soles.
I want your soles.
How do they look? I can't see.
I've never fallen into a rabbit trap,
but this is quite similar.
Raise this one.
Bring this one out,
closer to me.
Good.
Bring this one down a little.
Good.
The idea of you directing my toes
delights me.
Now curl them for me...
Looks like a wrinkly heart.
Like the potatoes I filmed,
young, then old.
Guess what I'm going to do
with these pieces of you.
They're yours?
Very pretty.
- Who's idea was it?
- His! Not mine.
I'm not proud of my feet,
they're too small.
They do seem small.
That's true, they do.
But that's ok.
I'm curious.
Why put toes on trains?
Is there a point? Or is it...
The point is
the power of imagination.
We've given ourselves the freedom,
JR and I,
to imagine things,
and ask people if we can
express our imaginations
on their turf.
But our idea has always been
to be with people, at work.
Hence the group photos.
So we want
to have an exchange with you,
and also try out
our own quirky ideas.
We enjoy it,
and we hope you do, too.
I was surprised by the originality.
It's an experience.
Your feet and your eyes
tell a story.
This train will go places
you've never been.
Thank you, JR,
for the beautiful trip.
I've got another one for you.
Close your eyes.
- I've got something for you.
- What is it?
Wait.
We have to close the blinds.
Look.
- How does it work?
- Like this.
Standing up.
What's your password?
2-3-4-5.
Great security!
Go on, hit play.
There.
- Why are you showing me Godard?
- You know why.
- Is that where we're going?
- Yes.
- Not excited?
- Sure I am.
I made this short film
with Jean-Luc Godard and Anna Karina
in 1961.
It'll put you in the mood
for our visit.
That's all I'll say.
Ever been to his place?
Not to his new house.
I haven't seen him in a long time.
I don't know, maybe five years.
What'll happen?
We'll see, we'll see.
He's unpredictable,
so you never know.
Why is he like that?
He's very solitary.
A solitary philosopher.
He created a cinema,
he changed the cinema.
His films are beautiful.
He's an inventor, a researcher.
The cinema needs people like him.
He's your old friend?
Don't say old friend!
He's a long-time friend.
It's nicer for old people.
And yes, he is.
I haven't actually seen him much
since we used to hang out.
I still care about him,
but we've lost touch.
Where would you like to sit?
What'll it be?
Madam?
- What'll you have?
- Perrier-grenadine.
I'd like still water, please.
No, herbal tea, please.
Herbal tea.
We're meeting him at 9:30.
So, what time is it?
Think he'll be on time?
He's at home, he'll be on time.
Shall we go?
You haven't taken a sip.
Oh yeah.
Cheers.
Cheers.
Do you see a doorbell?
I don't see a doorbell.
There's one in there.
It's locked.
Metal shutters.
Is this a joke?
Jean-Luc!
What's written there?
It's a cryptic message
from Jean-Luc.
"A la Ville de Douarnenez"...
We used to eat there.
It was a little restaurant
on Boulevard Montparnasse.
We used to eat there.
Me, Jacques and Jean-Luc.
And when Jacques died,
that was all Jean-Luc wrote to me.
"A la Ville de Douarnenez"...
If he wanted to hurt me,
he succeeded.
And "Du Ct de la Cte"...
I don't know.
That's one of my films.
He knows I'm here,
he's thinking of Jacques,
but it's not very funny.
It's not very funny.
If he won't let us in,
he's a dirty rat.
Let's go.
Wait.
To think I went to his favorite bakery
to buy little brioches for him!
I'll write him a note.
Lend me your quill
to write a word,
my friend Jacquot...
Thanks, JLG,
for your good memory.
But no thanks
for your bad hospitality.
I drew a heart anyway.
And you'll never know JR.
And JR won't know you.
But I know you well.
And I like you.
You dirty rat.
Let's go down to the lake.
Du Ct de la Cte
is the second line
in Godard's riddle.
Jean-Luc and Anna
had rented a villa near Nice.
They invited Jacques and I.
We had a good time.
Jean-Luc read all day,
and Anna wandered around saying,
"I don't know what to do."
We weren't making fun of her,
but that made Jacques and me laugh.
I have fond memories
of those times with friends.
But today Jean-Luc
was pretty out of line.
Do you think he wanted to hurt you?
Or was he challenging
the narrative structure of your film?
Our film.
Do you think he was pulling a prank?
I think he figured you were writing,
so he wrote too.
Maybe the two came together.
In a surprising way, but...
I have mixed feelings.
Very mixed feelings.
I don't know what to do.
What can I do?
Something just for you.
Thank you.
That's sweet.
I never realized
your eyes were so light.
I don't see you very well,
but I see you.
Shall we look at the lake?
and Sionann O'Neill.