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Closet The

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THE CLOSET
Pignon's got a neat tie!
Specially for the photo?
Now, please.
Please!
Must I remind you, this is a company photo!
So smile. Look proud...
to be part of this fine outfit!
The gentleman at bottom left.
With the red tie!
You're not in the frame.
I only see your arm. Move over!
That's fine.
Now I've lost the guy on the right!
The zipper jacket's in now!
But I've lost the red tie!
Are we going to get this picture?
The red tie's still out!
We've wasted enough time!
Everyone, look at me.
Were you drunk?
I've never had a framing problem before!
I feel bad for the guy in the red tie.
- Don't. He's being fired. - Really?
He doesn't know it yet, but he's out.
Poor guy.
No, he's an idiot.
- Am I let go? - Only him in Accounting.
- Does he know it? - Not yet.
- Why's he being fired? - Staff reduction.
That's lousy.
He's a good man. I tried to keep him.
He's nice but boring.
No, honest, dedicated.
Right, a real drag!
Morning, Miss Bertrand, Ariane...
Coffee, anyone?
No, thanks.
- Did you know? - What?
That I've been fired.
Not really. I'd heard about redundancy. Nothing specific.
Poor guy.
Yes, it's no fun.
We're not in. Leave us a message.
Christine? Frank? Are you there?
- Pick it up! - He wants you.
You're not in? Frank?
See, he wants you!
That's me?
You're out. I'll call later.
I can't now. I'm late.
I'm late too.
No, call me at the office, Christine.
I've been fired. Next month, no job. I found out...
and I wanted to talk to you.
But I'll find a job. Don't worry about your alimony.
See you later. Big hug.
It's me. I got your message.
I'm not worried. You'll be okay.
Call tomorrow. I'm out tonight.
I'm not worried. You'll bounce back.
What are you doing there?
Don't move.
Enjoy your meal.
I have to go jump out the window.
My wife said I'd bounce back. We'll soon see.
Don't do it. You'll wreck my car.
I'm parked under your window. You'll land on it.
It's an old battered car, but the roof's fine. Don't be an idiot.
''Give me back my cat!''
Thanks. It's a silly animal.
Like my old car. I'm fond of it.
I'm new. I moved in today. Jean-Pierre Belone.
Let's toast it. Come for a drink.
It isn't my car, but how else could I stop you?
Nor my cat, but it made you open your door. Want it?
Then I'll keep it.
Good night. Take good care.
I won't leave till I've heard your voice!
Silent people scare me.
Say one word and I'll leave.
Thanks.
Come have a drink. I'm lonely, and no happier than you.
You wanted to die?
Don't know. I may not have the guts.
All because you got fired?
No, my whole life's a mess.
Tell me.
I won't bother you with it. It's so dull.
Go on. There's nothing on TV tonight.
My wife left me two years ago, and I still love her.
My 1 7-year-old son has dropped me.
Now I've lost my job. It was all I had. Fascinating, right?
Yes, it is dull.
At least you're frank.
I made you smile.
I found out from Santini in Personnel.
He's thrilled I got fired!
- Why? - He never liked me. He's a jerk!
He broke my collarbone.
Made me try out for our rugby team. You see me playing rugby?
No.
He flattened me. I got three weeks sick leave. Very funny!
I liked that company. I was there 20 years.
I won't bore you any longer.
Maybe we can save your job. Let me think.
Save my job? You're dreaming!
I'll think it over. But don't jump. That's no solution.
Of the 1 23 passengers, none survived.
Bad weather has hampered the rescue operation.
In Denmark, the ferry that sank off the coast...
is the worst disaster of the decade.
There's talk of 400 casualties.
In Indonesia, no news of the 23 tourists kidnapped by guerillas.
An ominous silence!
The weather forecast is no better.
Hello.
Sorry about the mess. I'm still moving in.
It's my books. How will they all fit?
And the closet?
I'm coming. We have to talk.
Meet me down in the café. I may have a solution.
I used to be an industrial psychologist.
I know about corporate practices.
If you want to keep your job, you must--
If I want to keep my job?
- Come out of the closet. - What?
Come out of the closet. Admit you're gay.
But I'm not at all gay!
Who cares, if others believe it, especially your boss?
These are recent, before she left me, two years ago.
She's pretty. What does she do?
Translates. Majored in English. Now earns a bit.
But she needs my alimony.
When we met, she was nursing a heartbreak.
I became her confidant. A dumb role.
She married me as coldly as she left me.
She's so pretty...
and I'm hideous!
You're hardly cute.
You know how to cheer up a guy!
Flattery's a no-no for depressives.
You're an eyesore with no future and an idiot.
Feel better now?
I don't feel any worse.
My problem is my insignificance.
Here's my recurrent dream. I'm being born, but I'm already here.
The doctor hasn't noticed and tells my mom to keep pushing.
I wait in a corner for them to realize I'm here.
The symbolism's pretty obvious.
- I'll get them back to you soon. - What are they for?
Here.
- What's that? - It's you.
With a friend.
We'll shuffle it up.
Digital magic!
Coming!
- Did I wake you? - Never mind.
Did you mail that letter?
Yes, last night.
- Shit! - What's wrong?
I thought it over. Your strategy won't work.
Come in.
I can't fake being gay. I'm no actor. I'll get exposed!
Cup of coffee? I could use one.
You're right. If you camp it up, you'll be a flop.
You bet!
It's hard, especially playing a flamer.
Most actors who try are way off and vulgar.
So it won't work.
No. You'll pull it off if you do nothing at all.
Just stay the shy, discreet person they've known for years.
What'll change is how they perceive you.
Suzanne!
That's Pignon!
Holy shit!
Francoise? Pignon, in Accounting, you'll never guess.
Wait. I'll send you a copy.
Robert? You sitting down? Don't hang up.
Morning, Martine, Suzanne.
Morning, sir.
How's the mail today?
I'll bring it right in, sir.
Well?
I want to know who sent them, and why!
If only there was an anonymous letter--
''Don't fire Pignon! We'll tell the media...
you hate gays.'' But only these photos.
We're not firing him 'cause he's gay!
But people will say that's why!
I've got nothing against gays!
Damn that faggot!
What do we do?
Madame...
Gentlemen. Good morning!
Before we get down to business, I want you to see these.
They're your sons. Good-looking boys!
No, the bare-assed guy is an accountant here.
Pass them around.
It's Pignon!
- Who took them? - I don't know, but it's hateful.
How surprising!
Not to me. I tried him out at rugby.
You can spot them at once!
Broke his collarbone! Had to give up pantyhose!
This is no joke. We have to solve the Pignon problem.
We did. He's being fired!
What do we make here, Santini?
Sorry?
- What kind of products? - Products made of rubber.
What is our star item?
Con-- Cond--
...oms.
If we fire him, we'll have every gay movement on our backs.
Better to have them on your back than up.
What do you do Saturday nights?
I asked how you spend Saturday nights. Gay bashing?
Not at all!
Where do you go? The park, to hunt drag queens?
That humor is out now. I won't say it twice!
I've consulted our PR head. We decided this:
We keep Pignon for now and stay out of his private life!
We must!
- He's so dumb. - Outdid himself!.
- Let's make him-- - Less dumb? No hope!
We can try!
He let you have it!
I lightened the mood, and he slammed me!
- You'd better watch out. - Why?
You're on your way out. He's got his eye on you.
You can't fire a guy for a mild joke!
Would they fire me for that?
If I were you, I'd be very nice to Pignon.
What do you mean, ''very nice''?
You're known as a macho gay basher.
To change that, take Pignon to lunch.
I won't lunch with that fruit!
I hope no one heard you.
''I can't. I'm lunching with Pignon!''
Very good.
What a world! They fire straights and keep on every stinking--
- Who copied it? - Don't know. We're all giggling.
Put it away. He's due.
- Aren't they cute? - Get to work!
I had a hunch.
I can spot 'em. I did him.
It's his walk, his little ways.
I said to myself, ''That's one!''
- I didn't. - It's the way he looks at you--
sideways, round-eyed.
- Like a pigeon. - Are pigeons gay?
- Coffee, anyone? - No, thanks.
No, thanks.
He walks tight-assed.
France is no good at rugby?
We played South Africa and New Zealand.
They're better. Don't kid yourself.
The ''All Blacks'' and ''Springboks'' are way ahead!
They have the Super-Twelve.
Okay, they're pros, but in Europe...
some of our teams can match them.
Felix is right. We win now and then...
but in the long run--
You've got a fan!
It's the dating game!
You've got taste. Pignon is mignon!
That humor is out now! I won't say it twice!
How are you?
Fine, thanks.
I'm glad.
You eat beets?
- Yes. - They're healthy.
I had shredded carrots.
Really?
They're healthy too.
I'll have some.
- What? - Beets. I'll have some too.
Enjoy your meal.
Thanks.
Listen.
Yes?
We should grab a bite someday.
- Well? - Seems to be working.
Come in!
Santini, ''Mr. Rugby,'' asked me to lunch.
That's a good sign. To your future.
- How can I thank you? - I should thank you.
Why?
I'm retired. Life isn't much fun.
Then you-- suicidal, unemployed-- appear.
Thanks to you, now I'm neither.
And I've found the way to full employment.
3 million less unemployed, 3 million more gays with jobs!
There's another thing.
I got fired a long time ago.
Now, in a way, I'm getting even.
Coming! That cat never stops eating!
I open tins all day long.
Feels like he ate a whole ox today!
Why did they fire you?
20 years ago, for the same reason they're keeping you on.
So things are evolving!
Move your asses!
Push, you fakers!
Watch out for those butts!
What'll I say to him? Eating alone with that faggot!
Stop saying ''faggot''!
You're right! Sorry.
You'll goof up and say, ''Who needs gays in gay Paree?''
Why would I say that?
That's how you are.
I'm from Marseilles, not Paris!
Okay, forget it. Just be nice to him.
What can I talk about with that sissy?
First, pick a good restaurant.
I did. The Truffle. Costs a fortune!
Show him you're not a brute.
Say what you love about rugby is the warm locker room camaraderie.
What warm camaraderie?
Men together under the showers, naked in the steam...
glistening, muscular bodies.
A buddy soaps your back, you soap his.
- It's why you love rugby. - It is?
No, that's just what you tell him!
Get rid of your fag-bashing image, damn it!
Shit.
Traffic was awful today.
Yes.
And Paris traffic can be really awful!
I'm glad you were let go--
- I mean, that it worked out. - Thanks.
You're good manpower.
Sorry about your mishap at rugby.
I've forgotten it.
People think I'm just a big brute...
but I'm as sensitive as the next guy.
I love rugby for the showers.
Really?
The showers?
Not the actual showers. You can shower anywhere.
Sure.
How can I put it?
A shower with a naked buddy. Get me?
- No. - Sure you do.
You're with a naked buddy in the shower, soaping his--
Now what is it?
Picked a wine, sir?
Give me the wine list!
Where was I?
Soaping your buddy in the shower.
I was?
Right, I was.
Red or white?
Not at lunch, or I doze at work.
I'll drink. Makes me gay. I didn't mean it that way.
Shit.
Christine, you there?
I had lunch with Santini. Now my job looks safe again.
But I've had no news from Frank in two weeks.
A cop's stopping me for phoning and driving. I'll call you.
You need a ''hands-free'' model, sir.
I've ordered one, Officer.
Driver's license.
Don't ticket me for that. I phoned my wife about our son.
He's at a tricky age. You got kids, Officer?
Not when I'm on duty.
My son avoids me. I never see him.
Last Saturday, I waited all day.
I ticketed an old lady. She cried over her dead dog.
Next, a girl sobbed over her boyfriend.
Let me do my job! Leave me out of your problems!
He was my kid.
Now, he's a stranger.
Move on. Get lost!
- Well? - You scared me!
How'd it go?
Very well. He had duck. I had a nice stew.
Skip what you ate.
I was the essence of tact. We chatted delightfully!
I acted like an old queen with that sissy!
Now he thinks I grab guys in the showers!
No one can hear us! Damn your paranoia!
I'm ashamed of myself.
I'm through with that fruit!
You okay?
- Fine. And you? - Who were you talking about?
- What? - I thought I heard ''fruit.''
We didn't say ''fruit.'' Did we?
Absolutely not.
- Shit! - What?
- He heard every word! - So what? He's a pal.
But he gabs to Victor, who gabs to the boss.
Will the spade rat on me?
- Now what? - If you're a racist too!
- I am not! - Is ''spade'' a nice word?
I meant no harm.
Go away. I'll get fired too.
- Listen to me! - Watch out!
He hardly waved. At our lunch, he was cold with me.
The harder I tried, the more he clammed up.
- It was awful. - You didn't go far enough.
He sensed you were faking it. They're intuitive.
Should I have taken him to a disco?
Show him you're his friend, that you love him.
That I love him?
He was destroyed!
I want to hear him declare his love!
You're laying it on too thick.
- He called you a spade. - He did?
He said he meant no harm.
Okay, give it all you've got!
Harder!
Push!
Get into it!
You're a bunch of sissies!
Let's see if you've got balls!
That's standard rugby talk! Don't bug me for that!
- I didn't say a thing. - Now anything I say--
People think you took the photos of Pignon.
- I heard it too. Is it true? - No way!
Really?
What's this crap?
You hate gays 'cause you're a latent one.
Who says that?
I had a strategy. You turned it down!
What strategy?
If they call you gay 'cause you hate gays...
hang out with one to show you're not gay!
Could you say that slower?
Thursday is his birthday.
It is?
Giving François Pignon a gift would be smart!
He was seen in the park last night.
A guy in sales, driving through, saw him half-naked.
Look at that flamer!
- How are things? - Fine. And you?
- I'm due at maintenance. Later! - Later!
I hear he's hot for an office boy.
I'll hurry!
Bastard's a pedophile too!
Yesterday, he was a bore. Today, a pervert.
He hid it well.
I've worked six years with him. It's tales. He's no sex freak.
What about him grabbing ass in those photos?
You still got them?
- Something's odd. - What?
No gay wears bare-ass lederhosen now! Those photos are 20 years old!
Maybe they're into nostalgia.
- It's not him. - What?
See the spot on his arm? Look.
In short sleeves, he has no snake tattoo.
Maybe it's recent. Or a decal.
His arm isn't that muscular. It's not him.
Then who?
They're manipulated photos.
Why make him look like a faggot?
I don't know, but it's not him.
- Let's get his shirt off. - What?
To check out the tattoo.
Easy! You say, ''I want to see your strong arms. Get undressed!''
No, we shout, ''Take it off, Pignon! Take it all off!.''
Hello again!
- Still no one for coffee? - No, thanks.
- Think he heard? - I hope not.
- I've got an idea. - Now what?
I bump into him with his coffee.
His shirt is drenched, he removes it--
- You can't stain his shirt! - Why not?
That's unfair!
Damn his shirt. At least we'll know!
I'm so sorry!
I feel awful.
Look at your blouse.
I'm sorry.
Better take it off.
Wasn't me. She bumped into me.
No, it wasn't your fault.
I'll get myself another coffee.
- Mr. Pignon! - Yes?
Mind staying late tonight? To finish the balance sheet.
No problem.
If we run late, we'll order food and eat here. Okay?
If I add sales tax, the figures match.
Congratulations.
- Let's quit. You're tired. - We're not quite done.
We'll do it later. Let's break and eat.
A new invention. Try it.
Thanks.
About the August sub-balance.
If we carried over the premiums--
We're having dinner!
- We'll work later. - Sorry.
In six years, it's our first dinner together.
Yes, our first.
Easy on the wine. I can't handle it.
To our first dinner!
- I'm glad you kept your job. - Thanks.
And the reason why...
shows people are changing.
You mind discussing it?
- What? - The reason you were kept on.
No, why would I mind?
Wait. Are you sure you know the reason?
They figured I wasn't such a lousy accountant!
You don't know about the photos?
What photos?
I shouldn't discuss it, but everyone's seen them.
The boss got photos of you going into a gay bar...
in a compromising position.
They were meant to harm you, but it backfired.
That's how you held on to your job.
Easy on the wine.
This food's salty. I'm thirsty.
I didn't fall for it.
What?
They'd been manipulated. It was a montage.
A montage?
I've known you for a while.
That can't be you in those photos.
I've known you through a marriage, a divorce.
I can't believe it.
Is that you...
bare-assed in lederhosen, being fondled by a guy?
Yes, it's me.
Mind you, it didn't shock me.
We're all entitled to privacy, but it surprised me.
And not just me.
I drank too much. I need to lie down.
Are you all right?
It's nothing. I'll be fine. We'll get back to work.
Sorry. I didn't realize anyone was here.
I undid your collar so you could breathe.
Sorry. I have to go.
- Mr. Pignon! - See you tomorrow. 'Night!
She tried to undress you?
I drank too much. When I woke up, she had undone my shirt.
Are you two an item?
We're just coworkers! What got into her?
Are you hot for her?
She's pretty, smart, has men at her feet. Why would she want me?
- Because you're not a man. - What?
Reclaiming a gay man turns some women on.
Not her! She didn't fall for it, asked me questions--
About what?
She thinks the photos were manipulated.
I settled that.
Wasn't easy. I had to look her in the eye and say I liked men.
I came out of a closet I never went into.
- Maybe, but now you're in deep shit. - Why?
That woman undressing you isn't good.
- She may blow your cover. - Does she care if I'm gay?
It's dangerous. We must counterattack.
Have a seat, Pignon.
Thank you, sir.
You asked to see me?
Yes. It's tricky. It's about Miss Bertrand.
I'm listening.
Tell her to stop fondling me.
Sorry?
She's after me. It's unpleasant.
After you? How?
She assaulted me... sexually.
I see.
Almost tore off my shirt last night.
She shouldn't do that.
She's my boss, but I'm not an object, sir.
I understand.
- I'll look into it. - Thank you, sir.
Don't be rough on her. I just want to be left alone.
I'll look into it.
Joint's okay but pricey.
I can't digest red peppers.
Isn't that Pignon?
Yes. What's he doing here?
- Holy shit! - What?
The fairy's ogling teenage boys!
Dirty fruitcake!
Frank!
I was nearby, so I decided to surprise you.
- How are you? - Fine. And you?
Fine, but I never see you. I waited last week.
I couldn't come. I was busy.
You should call. I waited.
Sure. Gotta go.
Coming for lunch Saturday?
Sure.
He was ogling boys. It turned my stomach!
I should've kicked his ass!
- He'd love that! - The guy's revolting, unhealthy!
My kid could be pawed by that scumbag!
If I were a man and as tough as you guys are...
I would definitely teach him a lesson.
You wanted to see me, sir?
Sit down, Miss Bertrand.
- It's about Pignon. - Yes?
It's a bit tricky.
- You must stop fondling him. - Sorry?
He's accused you of sexual harassment.
He accused me of-- That faggot!
Precisely.
Sexual harassment?
Since he doesn't like women, leave him alone!
Yes, sir.
Tons of men in this company would love to be harassed by you!
I'll go for a breather.
What you did to her is disgusting!
I didn't do anything--
You behaved like an old biddy!
Soon you'll have no friends here!
François?
It's for you.
- What is it? - Open it!
Happy birthday, François.
Hope you like the color, but you can change it.
- You okay? - Yeah.
Sure you had no school?
Yeah.
You should see your dad more often.
That thing'll make you a zombie!
You don't even answer his calls.
He's no longer my husband...
but he's still your father!
I'm not an idiot. You left him...
'cause he's a drag. He still is, so I dodge him.
Now please leave me alone.
Tell him you hate his pasta.
I don't hate it.
If you don't, where's the problem?
It's how he says, ''Tomato and basil pasta!''
That's him. We won't change him.
Can I go next week instead?
Don't annoy me!
Tomato and basil pasta!
Smells delicious!
Sweet of you to invite me.
I'd made too much for myself.
Delicious!
May I say... it lacks a little basil.
What it lacks is the presence of my son.
- Things okay? - Sure.
- Nice day at the office? - Ice!
I asked a question.
Yes, fine. Water!
Want to hear about my day?
I'm back from work. I'm bushed. Lay off me.
What is it? You've been odd all week.
You don't answer me or you get mad. What is it, hon?
Nothing. I'm fine. Good-bye.
What's this bill?
''The Cashmere House.'' One sweater, $1 1 0! You bought one?
Yes. So what?
You got a cashmere sweater?
They also sell lisle. It was on sale.
$1 1 0! That's cheap?
- It was for that color. - What color?
Pink. You gonna grill me long?
I want to see it.
Is it in your closet? No, I checked.
Stop poisoning my life!
Admit you bought a sweater for a bimbo!
A sweater for a bimbo? She's nuts!
So put it on. I want to see you in it.
Who's this girl?
- This gift wasn't for a girl. - Then for who?
A guy at the plant.
A pink sweater for a guy at the plant?
He's gay. It was his birthday.
Now leave me alone.
You gave a sweater to a gay guy?
Who is this girl?
Did you watch TV last night?
No, I ate at my sister-in-law's.
There was a great movie.
A girl falls for a guy. Turns out he's her dad.
That's rough.
When the chick screamed, ''Daddy!''...
she was so moving.
Little bitch had great tits too!
Really nice ones?
Some cleavage!
Finding out the chick you want to lay is your daughter!
That's a real human interest story.
Here he comes!
What happened?
Two guys in the garage--
- I'll call the police. - No point.
We'll get the bastards.
They wore hoods and stole nothing.
I'll take you to the hospital.
I'll be okay.
I thought those days were over.
You again!
Because you showed up...
I'm in this mess...
pretending to be what I'm not, getting beaten up.
I'd be out of work, but whole.
Hear that, puss?
You seduced an old queer, wrecked his neighbor's life.
Look what you've done to him, puss.
Make fun of me too!
Would you rather I wept?
- Heard the latest? - Now what?
He got beaten up in his garage.
Two hooded guys. Broken collarbone.
- Wasn't me. I was home. - I didn't say that it was.
- Was he robbed? - No,just beat up.
A way to say they hate gays.
That's disgusting.
- Is he in the hospital? - I think he's at home.
Should I call him?
If you want, yes.
If he's all alone at home, I'd better go see him.
Don't lose any sleep. It can't be that bad.
Agnes won't speak to me.
Who?
My wife. Because I bought him a sweater.
Would you give chocolates?
- To your wife? - No, to Pignon.
- We went too far. - Maybe he's in love.
I'm not kidding. He looked odd.
If he looked less dumb, that's progress.
He's figured it out. Now he's putting you on.
He may be more fragile than we thought.
Who are they for?
- What are you doing here? - We have to talk.
Shit, my chocolates! You followed me?
- Yes. - 'Cause of a girl? If you knew--
I do. You're courting a gay man to keep your job.
That's worse than a girlfriend.
I can't give him these.
You buy that faggot sweaters and chocolates!
Next a Venice weekend!
Don't tail me! I'll do what I want! Leave me alone!
You're sick. You need help.
You'll wind up feeding that man chocolates.
- They're wrecked! - He'll ask you to lie beside him.
- No chance of that. - How do you know?
I'm not his type.
He avoids my eyes. He never wore my sweater.
I don't appeal to him.
Come home. You need help. I love you.
I need a candy store. I can't give him these.
If you go up to his place, I'll leave you.
There must be a candy store.
Felix!
Had a problem?
Nothing serious.
François Pignon?
The boss wants to see you. Come up now.
The boss? I'll be right up.
My dear François, have a seat!
- You're hurt? - It's nothing.
Glad to hear it. We're going to need you.
Moreau's come up with a good publicity stunt.
He'll tell you. Go ahead.
As you may know, next Saturday is Gay Pride Day.
- What? - The day you guys have a big parade.
Radio and TV, all the media cover it now.
I suggested that we should be in on it.
I was reluctant. We still have a few heterosexual customers.
But your parade is now so accepted socially.
We've got a float in the parade...
with a banner and a big condom.
I thought you'd like to be on the float.
-Me? -We've got a ''Come out safely'' T-shirt.
And this hat to top it off.
A perfect fit!
Isn't he cute?
- How you doing? - We're fine, but he isn't.
- His wife left him. - Shit.
We've been assholes.
Hi, Felix. You okay?
Fine, sure.
I have to talk to you.
I'll come clean.
I kidded you. Your job was always safe.
I had fun scaring you, but only so you'd evolve.
Some of us disapproved of your macho attitude.
So we said, ''Let's tone him down.''
See?
We heard your wife left you. We feel bad.
No need.
We want your wife to come home again.
Not too mad at me?
I'm not mad at you. Why should I be?
Good. We love you. We were just teasing.
So you're shy. You'll overcome that.
You're the man for that float, no?
But crowds, spotlights, parades aren't my thing.
The CEO will be upset if you refuse. It was his idea.
Agnes moved out.
What?
My wife left me. Now I live alone.
Really?
I need an answer fast.
Agnes has left me. I'm alone.
Yes, I heard you.
Want a coffee?
You want to live with me?
I'm alone. We could live together.
No.
Why?
Because.
It took eight people to control him. He went berserk.
Poor fellow.
He's in the hospital with a nervous breakdown.
What a day!
You better?
Yes.
As to that parade, if I were you, I'd go.
That's easy for you to say.
What a dumb answer.
If you go...
you'll become irreplaceable, a kind of icon.
Yes, an icon.
In a parade of flamers.
Wearing a condom bonnet.
So what?
I'll be a dickhead.
To you it's funny. Screw your parade!
As you like.
I'm tired. I'm going to bed.
Sorry. I was tactless, but I'm lost too.
More has happened in the last few days than in my whole life.
- Don't exaggerate. - One coworker undressed me.
Another wanted me to move in, then almost strangled me.
I got beat up in my garage. Next, I parade with fags and dykes.
Need I say more?
Your life's been very dull. At last, you're coming alive.
Don't quit halfway.
- Good to see you, darling. - You okay, Dad?
Fine. Come in, Frank.
Sit down. I've made you a snack.
Tomato and basil pasta.
I wasn't expecting your message.
I haven't heard from you in a month.
You're not eating?
I'm not hungry. I'm fine.
I'm really fine.
I saw you on TV.
It was luck. I rarely watch daytime TV.
That's why you came over?
I had to see you.
Why?
It made me want to see you.
You see Dad in a parade of flamers and say, ''I'll pop over.''
No, I said, ''Maybe I misread Dad.'' Great pasta.
Maybe you misread me?
- I said, maybe he's not such a-- - A drag?
Yes-- I mean more fun.
Now you think I'm fun?
Don't know. I'm just glad to be with you.
That parade today, me on a float with that banner--
It was brilliant.
What did you want to say?
Nothing. I'm glad you came.
Tell me...
are you attracted to--
To what?
You mean, to boys?
Why, is it hereditary?
I'm not kidding. Answer me.
No. I'm into girls.
Pity, we'll never parade together.
What's that?
Good stuff.
You smoke that crap?
Sometimes, not often. Don't worry.
- Does your mom know? - I said I rarely do.
Only when I feel great.
Tonight we both feel great, right?
We feel great, but don't smoke this crap.
Why so late? I was worried sick!
- I was with Dad. - What?
I had dinner with Dad.
- Don't lie to me. - I swear we had dinner.
Did you leave him 'cause he's gay?
What?
You could've told me.
Are you drunk?
I taped it. I missed the start, but he's brilliant.
We're not in, but leave us a message.
Christine, it's me. You there?
You're not in?
You're there. It's so good to hear you.
You okay?
Very well.
- I had dinner with Frank. - He told me.
Did he tell you about--
Yes. I'm watching it on TV.
A rerun? What channel?
No, he recorded it. What is all this?
Don't bug him. He's found his thing. He's happy.
Stay out of it. Go to bed.
Have you become gay?
It's a complicated story.
Don't bug him. He was cool tonight. Not uptight--
Get off my back!
No, that was for Frank, not you. Can we meet?
Sure we can.
Dinner one night this week?
- She'll bug the hell out of him. - Shut your trap!
And she's crude too.
I'll call tomorrow to say which night.
I saw my son. I'm dining with my wife. You're a genius!
I'm happy for you.
What's happened? You look down.
- The cat ran away. - Where to?
It left no forwarding address.
Of course. May I come in?
Why am I so upset?
It wasn't here long. Such an ordinary cat.
Don't worry. We'll find it.
I'll put up posters all over with a description.
A description?
Yes, its particulars.
Okay, describe it to me.
What?
Describe the cat to me.
It's small, gray--
Yes, they're sure to find it.
Add that it meows now and again.
You lived with it. Aren't there any markings?
Nothing. You couldn't find a more anonymous alley cat.
But I'm glad about your son and your wife.
I'll find your cat.
I'll search every alley around.
- Morning. - Morning. How are you?
Just fine.
What is it?
Nothing.
- Are you sure? - Yes. Why?
A dark look from you, the boss's secretary--
Things are fine.
Miss Bertrand.
The CEO is planning...
to promote Pignon.
Coffee, anyone?
No coffee.
You knew?
Knew what?
I've been fired.
The parade boosted the company's image.
You've got my job as head accountant.
They can't fire you like that.
Officially, it's sexual harassment. Nice going.
- I want to see the CEO. - He's busy.
Sorry, but I have to talk to you.
Call you back.
- I've called Security. - No need.
Got a problem?
Yes. I heard I was being promoted.
News travels fast here.
There is talk of promoting you. But that can't be it.
You cannot fire Miss Bertrand.
She's an excellent head accountant. Fire me.
It's okay. No one's being fired.
Anyone for coffee?
Yes. I'd like some coffee.
Me too.
Three coffees coming right up.
Pignon!
You okay, Felix?
You came to see me, wearing my sweater!
It's lovely. I get compliments.
I thought you'd like this key ring.
A little rugby ball! That's neat!
I started a team here, but the depressives were too weepy.
That's a shame.
Crying in a scrum, you can't see the ball.
- Come back to work. - I can't. I was fired.
No, the boss agrees, we'll never find a personnel man like you.
Or such a good rugby coach.
Don't, François.
My eyes are moist, like a fairy.
Sorry.
No harm done.
Come back soon. Promise?
I promise.
It's too pink. Makes you look silly. Exchange it.
See you soon.
What time's the party?
Ready! He's coming!
- There's a party for me? - Don't think so.
I knew it, you did. I feel ill.
- Why? - I'm still shaky. I feel weak.
It'll be fine. Give me your hand.
Is Pignon holding Santini's hand?
He is!
Congratulations, Felix.
Pignon and Santini.
Who could've guessed?
What are you doing here?
Hanging around. I didn't feel like going home. And you?
I followed you, to thank you.
There's no need.
- And to apologize. - What for?
For six years I saw you as a dullard...
with no brawn or brains, no balls, nothing.
No need. That's how everyone sees me.
One day, I saw a photo of you, bare-assed, being felt up by a gay.
Here, they found it amazing or amusing.
I figured, it's a crafty ploy to keep his job.
You were right.
No, I was wrong.
You'd found a ploy, but you're not a dullard.
You're a fine man.
Convincing you of that is the best way to thank you.
Convincing me will be quite a chore.
I promise to do my best.
I'm dining with my wife tomorrow.
She left me two years ago, never saw me.
Now she's agreed, intrigued by this gay thing.
I'm scared of being alone with her. I'll be hopeless.
Has she replaced you?
Several times.
Several times isn't serious.
Have you had an affair?
No. Other women don't interest me.
- That's not good. - Why?
Won't help you get her back.
Women spot a lonely man. It drives them away.
They also sense when a man has known many women...
and it excites them.
If it's just to thank me--
You got any protection?
No.
Me, neither. Usually I have some in my purse--
These are our assembly lines and our packaging lines.
And those--
Those are our testers.
Madame.
Morning, gentlemen.
Before we get down to business, I want to say this:
I'm confused about Pignon's sexuality.
Things okay?
Amazing. I waited so long for this.
What's this place?
A guy from the office took me here.
It's a bit rustic.
A bit. You don't like it?
Rich food. I'll have a salad.
Shall we move?
I just came for an explanation. Go ahead.
You only came for that?
Why else?
- Sure. - Care for a drink, folks?
Champagne?
- No, bottled water. - Yes, madame.
For you, sir?
Glass of champagne.
What's all this that you're gay?
For two years, I was so terribly stuck on you.
Mornings, waking without you. I'd talk all day to you.
At night, sleepless, I'd still talk to you.
I only quit when I phoned you. You never answered.
Let's not go over all that again.
In my head, I asked you why you'd left me...
when I loved you so much...
and I had tried so hard to make you happy.
I saw shrinks who said I was an obsessive-compulsive.
They named my pain but couldn't cure it.
God, how I loved you.
I agreed to come because I saw you in a gay parade.
You said you'd explain.
I will. Don't worry.
I'm happy.
I'm really happy tonight.
Why?
I've realized how unpleasant you are.
You're amazingly unpleasant, I'd even say.
And forgive my frankness...
but you're totally uninteresting.
If you invited me to insult me--
Don't get mad. I'm just starting to breathe.
After two years, I'm breathing again.
I choked in my obsessive period. I forgot who you were...
an ungenerous woman who never gave me any love...
not even a tiny bit.
You're so uninteresting, and now I'm so happy.
That's it. I'm leaving.
I'm not gay. I did it for my job and your alimony.
Pretending not to like women, I became a man.
Call your son. Fill him in on this hoax.
For three days he's treated you like a hero.
- You mind? - What?
That he no longer scorns me, that I interest him.
It bothers you?
A boy shouldn't admire his dad for acting like a fag.
Telling him will be a letdown.
I'll tell him. Things will be fine again.
Sorry, you're dining alone.
We smoked a joint together.
- What? - Hash. It was good stuff.
My head was putty the next day.
What did you say?
I forbid you to tell him what I really am.
He's at a critical stage. We'll tell him later.
I want contact. You're raising him wrong.
He needs a father, gay or straight.
You decided, folks?
I'll have some rich, heavy food.
Madame won't. I'm dining alone.
Good night. It's been lovely.
Amazing!
I can't believe it.
I said I'd find it.
It was on your balcony?
Yes. I heard meows and--
- When? - A while ago.
Funny, I didn't hear a thing.
I did it. I'm over my wife.
That's good news.
Our dinner-- It wasn't ''ours.'' She didn't eat.
- Sure it's the same cat? - What?
There's something different.
- Like what? - I can't describe it.
- The other was very plain. - So's this one.
- That proves nothing. - Either way.
It may not be the same cat, but I'm sure of this:
You're not the same man.
I don't know which is which.
I'll get to the point, Pignon.
I don't know where things stand with you.
Two months ago, you come out of the closet. You agree?
Yes, sir.
Then you accused Miss Bertrand of sexual harassment.
- You still agree? - Yes, sir.
Later, I catch you making wild love...
on an assembly line with that same Miss Bertrand...
in front ofJapanese clients...
who now want to visit the plant again.
You think it's funny. I don't.
You pretended to be gay to hold on to your job.
You're a liar, Pignon.
You're right, sir, I'm a liar. I'm not gay.
Do I apply for unemployment?
That's not the right approach.
Yes, it is, sir.
Gay or straight, you're a pain, Pignon.
My whole life I've been called a drag.
You called me a pain. That's a step up the ladder.
One year later...
All right, please.
Please!
You all know what this is: a company photo.
So everyone smiles...
happy to be in this fine outfit.
The man down on the left.
You in the blue suit.
I'm not in the frame?
You okay?
Shit, my collarbone!
Okay, fire away.
CQ
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