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Decline of the American Empire The 1986

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Three things|are important in history.
First of all, numbers.
Secondly, numbers.
And thirdly, numbers.
This means, for example
that the Blacks in South Africa
are bound to win some day
while North American Blacks|will probably never make it.
History is not a moral science.
Legality, compassion, justice...
Such notions|are foreign to history.
The Decline of the American Empire
Interview with Dominique St-Arnaud,|by Diane Léonard
for Writers Today.
You're Chairperson|of the History Department
and you've just published|{y:i}Changing Concepts of Happiness.
Can you tell us about it?
It's my premise that the concept|of personal happiness
permeates the literature|of a nation or civilization
as its influence wanes.
What do you mean|by "personal happiness"?
The expectation of receiving
instant gratification|in daily life
and that this gratification
constitutes the normative|parameter of existence.
Can you give us|a concrete example?
Take marriage, for instance.
In stable societies,
marriage is a mode|of economic exchange
or a unit of production.
Meaning?
The success of a marriage|doesn't depend
on the personal happiness|of the two individuals.
The issue never even comes up.
A developing society|places greater importance
on the collective good|or future happiness
than on personal satisfaction.
In Rome, for example,
the idea of conjugal love|first prevails
in the third century,|under Diocletian
as the Empire is collapsing.
And in Europe,|Rousseau's idea of happiness
ushered in the French Revolution.
So I pose the question:
Is the frantic drive|for personal happiness
we see in society today
linked to the decline|of the American empire
as we are now experiencing it?
How's that?
I need another five minutes.|Milan Kundera didn't show.
Just stretch it out.
How?
Social disintegration,|decay of the elites, you know.
Strange that she barely|mentions women in her book.
- It wasn't her subject.|- Still.
To ignore it...
Who'd want to equate|feminine power with social decay?
But women's rise to power|has always been linked to decline.
It's symptomatic.
- You can tell her that later.|- Thanks!
Speaking of feminine power,
you should see|the Vietnamese girl in my class!
With Orientals,|I have this feeling
they're giving my money|to their sick brother.
I can't imagine them|ontologically perverse.
Sebastian broke the window|in the back door.
I've covered it,|but should I call in a repairman?
{y:i}I'll do it Monday.
And my car's dead.|It must be the starter.
Sylvaine had a fit 'cause|I couldn't drive her to ballet.
Dominique and Diane|aren't here yet.
So don't worry
if we're a little late.
No problem, we'll wait.
Danielle wants|to speak to Pierre.
I love you.
Really?
- You?|{y:i}- Me?
You still love me?
Yes, of course.
You're scared to say it|because of Rémy, eh?
{y:i}See you later.
See you later.
Can we help?
After I've prepared the trout.
The shallots, please.
My back's really hurting.
You should take a swim.
The water's so cold|and I swim badly.
Making love is the only exercise|I really enjoy.
But after 15 years of marriage...
Turn over.
To be slim,|young and attractive,
I'm forever on a diet.
I weigh myself every morning.
I'm terrified of getting|fat and flabby.
My problem is...
I was born in the wrong era.
I was made to be fat.
My grandmother,|who died at 92,
only played the organ in church.
She was an enormous woman|who loved to eat
and drank vermouth|with her sugar doughnuts.
In those days,|men liked their women big.
- There's no vesiga, I suppose.|- Use the tapioca.
There's a Polish store|that sometimes has vesiga.
But it's way out in Brossard!
I took Leni Eisenbach|to a Chinese restaurant in Brossard.
In Brossard?
Is there a good Chinese|restaurant in Brossard?
What?
Hand me the parsley.
I was still married then.
I don't get it.
Visual idiots! Perhaps you should|draw him a picture.
So, tell me.
A month before, I'd invited a student|to Delmo's for seafood.
Naturally, intending to screw her|madly afterwards.
Same as ever.
A friend of my wife's spotted us.
She had just separated.
Her husband was cheating|on her, of course.
She hated men.
Familiar tune.
At 4am, when I say|the faculty meeting ended late,
my wife asks me|if the oysters were fresh.
Horror of horrors!
This explains why married men|frequent the suburbs.
I discovered amyl nitrite|in Brossard.
- What's that?|- Drug for the heart.
It dilates the blood vessels|instantly.
You had a heart attack in Brossard?
I'd picked up girls|hitching to New York.
Couldn't pass them by.
Not at night!
So I paid for their motel.
Christian charity!
It had its rewards!
They offered to sleep with me.
Two kind souls.
Lovely bodies, too.
One of them placed a tiny pill|on the night table.
- Is that the chicken stock?|- Yeah, and get the velouté.
She told me to take the pill|15 seconds before coming.
Amyl nitrite just before orgasm...
Absolute ecstasy...|St. John of the Cross.
But it ages your heart years.
I'm such an idiot.
I was so excited,|I forgot to take it.
I brought it home...
..and took it the next night,|with my wife.
Told her it was a test for the school|of pharmacology!
- There's a diver in the pool.|- He must be from the club.
You're shivering!
The water's freezing.
Go take a sauna.
- What're those?|- What?
Those marks.
Nothing... from my judo class.
Judo?
So I told my daughter.|She's insanely jealous.
I'm having a weird affair|with this guy.
Unbelievable.
Someone I met in a bar.
What does he do?
I prefer not to know.
For openers, he said it was time|I met a man like him,
a real man.
He's never made love|to me normally.
Always from behind,
like a man.
Before him,|I couldn't stand that.
The first few times|he pulled on my hair
like a mane.
Then,
he started spanking me...
..on my bum and thighs.
Next it was his leather belt.
Then he began...
..tying me to the radiator.
In more and more
degrading positions.
I had never come like that.
But I have to stop.
It's getting dangerous.
You're afraid of him?
No, it's me I'm afraid of.
I'm the one who always|wants to go further.
I'm the one in control.
I've never felt so powerful.
The power of the victim|is incredible.
He's totally dependent on me.
It's got nothing to do|with wife beating.
It's a game that has|fixed rules but no limits.
We could even kill each other.
The strangest part is,|I don't love him.
He knows
how to get right inside me.
You lie through your teeth,|that's what saves you.
What else can one do?
Pierre, lying is the basis|of all love affairs...
of our very social existence.
Refusing to lie|would be much the same
as telling an eminent colleague|from Laval University
who's devoted 20 years
to the history|of Catholicism in Canada
that he can take|Bishop Bourget's sermons,
roll them very tightly
and slowly shove them up his arse.
Not Bishop Bourget's sermons!
lnstead,
you shake his hand and say
"Very impressive!"
"Outstanding research!"
- Think so?|- "Brilliant fact checking!"
Really, gentlemen,|you're embarrassing me!
Same with women.
"Your hairdo makes you|years younger."
"l thought of you all day."
"l wanted to call."
"We can still be friends."
I couldn't endure a separation.
The screaming,|threats of suicide...
Finding a flat,|fighting over the furniture.
I knew a couple who even|divided up their spice jars.
It's easier to stay together.
Couples renovate their houses,
cross-country ski to Povoknituk
or sail across the Atlantic.
Or scour the sex shops
for chains and whatever.
They swap wives in suburbia.
Anything to escape|the years of boredom.
Because love...
..the kind that makes|your heart race,
makes you send flowers...
..lasts two years at best.
Then the compromises begin.
Life's a compromise, Pierre.
Louise and I were married|15 years
and we still have wonderful times.
You don't have kids.
It's not the same.
I want to be with mine every day...
..not every other weekend.
You're flushed.
My sauce won't thicken.
I divorced for purely|physical reasons.
I was scared to death of the phone.
When you have affairs...
..the poor things|are bound to fall in love.
It's meant to be.
Knowing one day,|one of them would call me at home.
Every time the phone rang...
..my heart skipped a beat.
It's been 10 years now.
With Danielle, it's different.
Still, when the phone rings|at night...
I totally panic.
Hold on.
Who is it?
A woman.
Oh, hello, Mum.
The young lady who answered?
A girl called you last night.
She spoke English.
Oh yeah?
I didn't understand much.
Suppose not.
She said her name was Barbara.
Must be the girl from|the San Diego conference.
She sends...
"a warm kiss."
She's a lovely girl.
Terrific organiser.
Barbara Michalski!
She'd done her Ph.D. at San Diego
on the impact of working women|in Chicano families.
She was brilliant.
That's what seduction's about.
Not big breasts or long legs.
It's in the mind.
We were together only eight days.
We went camping in the Baja.
I knew nothing about psychology.
So at night,|before we made love,
she'd tell me about R.D. Laing,|anti-psychiatry,
so many things.
I could've listened to her|for nights on end.
Hi, Rémy.
Sorry I'm early.
Am I disturbing you?
Not at all.
What are you up to?
Some filing.
- What's in that file?|- Nothing.
It's on Shiite factions in Lebanon.
- Are you sure?|- Why Lulu...
I'm as clear as spring water.
Yeah, transparent even.
Wholesome as fresh bread.
What became of her?
I don't know.
We used to phone each other.
Then she disappeared.
Probably married|some dumb Mexican.
Whenever I'm in the library,
I look for her name|in the psychology journals.
I may never see her again.
I think about her a lot.
How tragic!
What're you thinking?
I was thinking|how happy we are.
I'm not completely naive.
I'm sure Rémy has flings|now and then, on his trips.
But at home he's good.
The one time he wasn't,|I was with him.
So I don't worry.
Meaning?
I don't know if I should tell.
We'd heard about a doctor,
an old school chum of Rémy's
who organised rather unusual parties.
He had invited us...
..and we decided to go.
What was it like?
There were a dozen couples,
professional people mostly.
A psychiatrist, too.
People from about 30 to 50.
What happened?
It was a bit strange.
First, they waited|for everyone to arrive.
Then we went to the basement.
It was spacious,
with thick carpets,|lots of pillows, soft lighting.
They showed a porno video.
People began to dance.
It wasn't really dancing.
More like vertical foreplay.
Then suddenly|everyone was making love
all over the house,|in the rooms upstairs.
You, too?
Yeah.
But just once.
I wasn't what you'd call...
the life of the party.
Rémy was more active.
I saw him with two women at least.
Who did you fuck?
I don't even know.
You don't talk much.
The man making love to me|was taking his time.
That's good.
Yeah, it's just that his wife
must've hit|on a premature ejaculator.
Because she arrives...
- Charles...|- What?
Aren't you being a little slow?
Thérése, please!
- Come on!|- Come on!
Are you serious?
I swear!
Are you enjoying him?
- Thérése!|- Uh-huh.
Coming, dear.
Alright, see you later.
So he started in for real.
I did my best to help him.
You shouted|"More, more, more!"
Let's say I kept it
to heavy panting.
Anyway, finally it worked.
He had his orgasm|and went off to find his wife.
Did you come?
Well, no.
He didn't know me.
I'm not like you, Diane.
I was doing it mainly for Rémy.
What do you mean,|not like me?
Well, it was
for married couples.
- Married?|- That's right.
These people...
They are absolutely faithful,|do everything together.
For me it was a way...
..of showing our love.
Have you ever tried it?
Wife swapping parties,|orgies, that sort of thing?
I never mix my marriage|with my sex life.
I may cheat on Louise,
but I know she's the one for me.
Yes?
Diane's not around?
Not yet.
Which is her place?
The one in back.
Right next to mine.
The door's probably locked.
I'll go see.
Not bad!
Your type, eh?
It's asking for trouble.
I was in love with someone like him.
It lasted six months.
He was killed.
Motorcycle accident.
That's when I began cruising.
I'd be cruising|every night if I could.
I thought you were.
Not anymore.
I can't teach the next day.
The only time I feel alive|is when I'm cruising.
It's incredible, I become...
crazed.
- Electrified...|- I know the feeling.
But for me it's dangerous.
A friend was stabbed|in the shower.
I can't help it.
Some nights I just have|to fuck someone.
Anyone.
It doesn't matter.
Like an alley cat on the prowl.
The urge is overwhelming.
I'm always being robbed.
Guys take off with records,|wine, my watch.
I'm not physically brave.
But when it hits,
I can set out at 4am|on an expedition...
..through the saunas|of Los Angeles...
..or the heaviest bars|in St. Pauli in Hamburg.
That's why I live alone.
I never know how the day will end.
Even if nothing happens,
the possibility still exists.
Knowing I have to be home at six,
'cause the old lady|has supper waiting,
would kill me.
The old lady or the old man.
Same thing.
I like knowing supper is ready
and stopping off|on the way home.
When I'm in love,|I become monogamous.
It lasts a while.
Then the beast rears its head.
I turn into a public menace!
I swear, they should lock me up.
I once visited a brothel
on the way to my mistress.
Try explaining that to a woman.
- Oh damn.|- What?
We're out of eggs.
I've got some,
the plastic kind|from the village.
- I couldn't buy any in the city.|- They'll do.
It was locked?
She shouldn't be long.
I'm not like you guys.
I don't need to fuck|a new girl every day.
I didn't either at your age.
But you can't correct|our students' papers forever.
You still have to do your Ph.D.
You'll want to buy a flat,
maybe a country house.
It keeps your mind occupied.
Perhaps you dream|of writing an important book.
I know I'll never be|a Toynbee or a Braudel.
All I have left...
..is sex or love.
What's the difference?
I don't know what's left for me.
That's why age leads to vice.
I don't have all that ambition.
I just want to be happy.
I need some water.
Would you like mineral water?
Doesn't your tap work?
Are you on medication?
A home remedy.
It's really strong.
I take multi-vitamins.
Must be good for you.
- I'm gonna split.|- What about Diane?
I'll be back.
Wittgenstein wrote...
..that our only certainty
is the ability to act with the body.
If I'm in love, I get hard.
If I don't get hard,|I'm not in love.
Otherwise, you're deceiving yourself.
Like a woman who says|she still loves you
when she's as dry|as sandpaper
and you remember|how she'd be dripping
if you so much as kissed her|on the neck.
Roger had me sleep|with his best friend.
In fact, for six months|we all slept together.
I can recommend it,|two mouths, four hands...
It's not as easy as all that.
I tried it in Martinique|with two young Blacks.
As soon as they opened|their mouths it was over.
"Madam not know Martinique
if no sleep with Martiniquers."
They show me a gold bracelet.
"A gift from her Honour Judge|Thibodeau."
They're so macho!
I'm paying
but they tell me what to do.
White woman on her knees|before the black boy's cock.
Not your style, eh?
Not exactly.
I prefer African Blacks.
- Like Mustafa?|- No thanks!
Men who drool over me...
I don't know,|Africans are somehow...
warmer.
Of course they're polygamous.
You get used to it.
What do you mean?
Well...
It's not 4:30!
It's 4:30?
Shit!
I told Louise I'd meet her at four.
I wanted to buy the kids|Christmas presents.
- My shirt!|- The den.
- My jumper?|- On the sofa.
Your watch!
It was great.|See you tomorrow.
I always come back to ltalians.
They're impossible, but...
Ah, my first visits to ltaly!
I was continually being robbed.
The guys would take my passport,
my traveller's cheques, my watch...
But there was lots of amore.
Such simple souls, they shout|mamma when they come.
The first time|a man shouted mamma...
I thought his mother had come in.
I wanted to hide under the bed.
You're sure|you don't have AlDS?
Don't know.|It's two to five years incubation.
Like to test my saliva?
You're not scared?
It's part of the pleasure.
Disease is part of sex.
Ever heard women|talk about their insides?
Fibromas,|vaginitus, salpingitis...
Chlamydia...
Spirochaetes...
Herpes...|Soft chancres!
To think
you actually dip|your cocks in that!
Our cocks, our tongues...
Staphylococcus aureus!
Come on, that's in the throat.
My poor boy...
It can spread ever so easily|from her throat to your prick.
Then its hello urethritis|with staphylococcus aureus!
And the hospital on an empty stomach|once a week for months!
Explain that to your wife!
You can't make love,|you leave for work at seven
- ... once a week.|- Without breakfast.
You can't drink|because of the antibiotics.
Not to mention the stains
you try to wash|out of the sheets
while your wife's in the shower.
It's not as bad as AlDS.
Otherwise homosexuality|would be paradise on earth.
They're already better dressed,|more cultivated...
They're gayer too.|Such a sense of humour.
They're better cooks,|just look at his dough.
Yes, but I'm going to Hell.
Save me a seat.
They have friends all over.
When a man tells me|"I stayed with friends in Amsterdam",
I know he's gay.
My friends are married|and have children,
their flats are crammed.
And my old girlfriends are with men|who don't want me around.
They're even better looking.
That's the worst.
Here are your two classic heteros.
Overweight, noses too long,|our complexions are...
Ravaged!
So the question is...
Are we hetero because|we're not good-looking?
Or would our looks improve|if we were gay?
Serious matter.
A truly superb teenage boy...
..looking in the mirror, must think
"This is too good for a woman!"
- Exactly!|- Yes, but...
The moustache...
Kissing a moustache...
You have to get to them|before they have one.
He's a worse pervert than me!
I'm not talking about myself.|Really, I'm no pederast.
But aesthetically speaking,
nothing compares to the arse|of a 12-year-old boy.
Not the Sistine Chapel|or the B Minor Mass.
At 12, a boy's arse is sublime.
By that age, girls have gone flabby.
Matter of taste.
A guy in a bar once said to me,
"Honey, a hole is a hole."
- Should've called me in.|- He may be right.
Plus the joy of living with someone|who doesn't menstruate.
Louise turns into a monster|four or five days a month.
I nearly strangled her|one Sunday, last winter.
There had been|a huge snow storm.
I wanted to take my car to buy|the papers, but I got stuck.
Of course, I'm blocking her car,|she can't go to her tennis lesson.
She made an ugly scene.
"You should have let me out first.|You never could drive in the snow!"
I should move out|a week before her period.
The New York Times is sacred,|of course, snowstorm or not.
Naturally he gets stuck,|which means I can't go to tennis.
My last chance to see François|for a month! I was furious!
François, the tennis teacher?
Yeah, he was going|to some tournament.
I was climbing the walls!
The fact I couldn't say why,|made it even worse!
- How long had the affair lasted?|- It wasn't an affair.
Nothing had happened.
But that Sunday|I felt something might.
That's what made me mad.
I hadn't done anything wrong.
I wasn't sure when he'd be back.
Finally I got my nerve up.
I called.
I know you're not supposed to, but...
His daughter answered.
He lives with his 14-year-old.
I heard him ask who it was.
She said, "Probably|one of your mistresses."
I hung up.
Never went back.
Well, I did once.
I didn't go in.
I saw him with a woman.
A young woman.
At least you still had Rémy.
When you live alone,|you get used to it.
Your sex drive vanishes.
You stop thinking about it.
Then an old lover comes along.
Or someone else by accident.
Can't you sleep?
What is it?
I want to sleep in my own bed.
It's snowing.
I like sleeping alone.
Me too, but not all the time.
Now you're awake,
you want it again.
But he's had his fun, so he's gone.
Leaving you with|asymptomatic gonorrhoea.
Nice, eh?
All that, just to have some|creature to warm your bed.
I'd stoop to almost anything|for a warm body Sunday morning.
Though you don't|even need a man.
I cuddle with my daughter.
- We smooch.|- How old is she?
Twelve.
Aren't you worried?
I mean, psychologically.
No.
In therapy, after my depression,
I was afraid I was a lesbian.
Why afraid?
I don't know.|Have you ever slept with a woman?
Yeah, a few times.
You too?
Uh-huh.
God!
I'm always so scared|of being abnormal.
Isn't that a lot?
We'll send some to Mustafa
in Ouagadougou.
They love coulibiac in the Sahel.
With sour cream|and Robert Mondavi.
You're disgusting.
Not at all!
No one's more devoted|to the Negro.
I personally took Mustafa|down to the strip last Thursday.
- When did he leave?|- The next day.
That was the problem.
In two months he hadn't laid|a single Canadian.
He was feeling so dejected.
Don't you mean erected?
Our co-eds must be losing|interest in the Third World.
Anyway, I took him|to St. Lawrence Street.
Suddenly, we spotted
this gorgeous blonde,|taller than me,
done up in red silk.
Mustafa was licking his chops.
I negotiated for him.
Wouldn't want him|to squander UNESCO funds.
Evening, miss.|A pleasure to meet you.
I'd like to introduce a friend.|A great guy, but shy.
He's a brilliant historian.
A specialist on Mossie culture.
Think of it
as your contribution|to African relief,
like singing in We Are the World.
Get the picture?
Okay with me,
but your Negro's in for a surprise.
Oh boy!|That's not quite
what we had in mind.
- I'd better tell you.|- Very thoughtful!
Very!
We'll be off.
Goodnight.
- And good luck.|- You, too.
- Come on.|- Why?
- I'll explain later.|- She's racist!
Get off it! She's not racist,|she's sexist.
We walked over|to St. Louis Square
and found two lovely|little brunettes.
I even took one for myself.
I'd been feeling tired
and that's when|I like a brunette.
Tall, lazy blondes
take too much work.
In sex, practice makes perfect.
My best lovers have always|been those who fucked the most.
Always.
Are brunettes always best?
It depends.
For winter, someone warm.|For summer, someone tender.
French girls for sparkle.
- Fresh California orange juice!|- And the aromas!
The Jewesses' and Arabs'|fragrance of camphor.
The Vietnamese with their scent|of orange blossoms.
Gets me excited.
But do they have to be pros?
It takes longer|when they're not.
You have to go cruising.|It's torture.
Hanging out in bars, paying|for dinner, dancing in discos...
So what ?
I have always absolutely|abhorred dancing.
The suffering I've endured|on the dance floor
just to please women!
The worst part|is the conversation.
"Oh, I adore|Woody Allen's films, too!"
"Did you read Shogun?"
- "Yeah, I love Baryshnikov."|- "Now it's Patrick Dupont."
"Acid rain, terrible!"
- "Nuclear reactors, dreadful!"|- "Youth unemployment, awful!"
"What's your view|on serial monogamy, Sylvie?
Nathalie, Julie, Sophie...|You really have to want to get laid!
That's not all.
Then you have to make her come.
No piece of cake.
- You have to find her clitoris.|- My God!
A delicate undertaking!
Like looking for a needle|in a haystack.
You rack your brains to recall|Masters and Johnson,
Shere Hite, the G-spot debate,|Germaine Greer, Nancy Friday...
Should you use your fingers,|tongue, or prick?
You sneak a look at her...
You think to yourself...
"She looks like..."
"l hope she..."
"I wonder if..."
It's hell, absolute hell!
- I've never had those problems.|- Oh no?
Come into my study.
The Borneo heteropteryx.
For 100 years, entomologists searched|for the male of this one
and the female of this one.
A major issue in biology.
Until one day|they were found screwing.
The two of them.
He was the male to her.
It seems impossible.
She's a reptile|and he's an insect.
They have one thing in common.
What?
Fucking.
Think about it.
Sorry.
The beaches in Sicily|were deserted.
He was dying of the heat|in his uniform.
Was he a policeman?
Sort of.
So I go in.
I take off my T-shirt and shorts.
He starts fumbling|with his fly...
..but he can't get it undone.
They're always anxious then.
He was really well-built,|with broad shoulders.
Finally,
he drops his briefs.
The moment of truth!
His penis was...
minuscule!
Honestly, like a baby's!
Poor man.
It was either the wine
or the absurdity of being|with a Sicilian cop,
but I burst out laughing.
I mean, uncontrollably!
I laughed until I wept!
And him?
Naturally,|it was a disaster.
I didn't want to hurt him.
He was rather sweet.
But it ended|in a complete fiasco.
I even tried my "octopus|with suckers" routine.
"Suckers"?
Well, more or less.
Mustn't make fun of their penis.
They're so preoccupied|with its size.
"ls his bigger than mine?"
"Don't I have a big one?"
It's their major preoccupation.
It's true, they always ask.
How would you know?
Well...
It's happened.
I can understand.
It's pretty important.
How can you say that?
If you're in love,|it's a detail.
Some detail!
I'm going to take a swim.
You've upset her.
- Poor girl.|- It's too hot, that's all.
Worse still
is to talk about a former lover.
"Benoît could really|make me come!"
The guy beside you|melts away like butter.
- You can't say that!|- Even more subtly.
You pass a hotel and say
"Benoît and I stayed here."
Sneak a look,|and he's green with jealousy.
Or they say, "Before me|you didn't know what sex was."
I can't stand that!
That's the time|to mention Benoît.
"It's not the same, darling.|I love you.
"With Benoît, it was...
"purely sexual."
You can feel him|turning to mush.
Or when he senses|you're rating him
like for a restaurant guide.
"A bit dowdy.
"Portions somewhat stingy."
Or like for a tourist guide.
"Restored mill
"but the works|are purely decorative."
"Charming garden
"but the fountain is dry."
"lmpressive manor,|but the tower is in ruins."
If he's in his 40s,
you reminisce how young men|always wake up with hard-ons.
Or you calmly begin|to masturbate
after he's finished|his little number.
That always gets them.
You're terrible!
Oh, I've done worse.
I was with Roger for 10 years.
You can't imagine|what I put up with.
I was constantly|left alone with the kids.
He'd be out cheating on me.
It was hell.
I stayed at home,|cheerful, loyal, warm.
Till the day I'd had enough.
And all of a sudden...
..something snapped.
Hello, Roger?
I'm in Brossard.
Room 216, Continental Motel.
I'm with a friend,|having so much fun.
I think I'll spend the night.
I didn't want you to worry.
See you tomorrow, okay?
Goodnight. Kisses.
Are you crazy?
That'll teach him.
He'll come here!
Don't worry.
Don't worry!
- He's this big!|- So?
I'm not in shape!
I'm no boxer like him!
Scared?
No, I'm thinking of you.
Anyway, I can't stay.
- I have to get home.|- He won't care.
- He's violent!|- I know!
He knocked out Yvan Rivard.
You slept with Yvan?
Don't forget your ring.
I've noticed something.
I always fuck my wife better|after I've cheated on her.
Guilt, that's all.
No, it's physical.|The comparison turns me on.
The more you screw around,|the more you want to.
To be happy,|I'd need four wives.
Four, exactly as the Koran says.
I'm happy with Louise.
But I'd also take a writer,|say Susan Sontag,
an Olympic high jumper,
and a real sex maniac|for group encounters.
Looks sinfully good!
We won't mention calories.
I put on a kilo last week.
Too bad Mustafa|can't be here.
Seems he had|other fond memories.
Like what?
Well, I mean he must|have enjoyed his visit.
- What's the sauce?|- A mousseline.
But I made it with sour cream.
It seemed more Russian.
I heard about a course|in creative cooking.
You're not starting|with your courses again!
Why not?
Why are women so obsessed|with taking courses?
It's pretty obvious.
The university's full of them,
madly taking notes on the meaning|of the Locarno Pact.
I teach those courses.
I still don't understand.
That's why
history is criticised|for dealing only with the victors.
Often this is due|to the documents available.
There are more records about|Egyptians than Nubians,
more about Spaniards|than Mayas,
and of course, many more|records about men than women.
This limitation to history|is very real.
There may also be|a psychological reason.
We far prefer hearing|about winners
than about losers.
I don't mean your courses.
But what is it about|studying German, the guitar...
- Tap dancing.|- Shiatsu.
Primal therapy.
Nothing personal.
Seems obvious.
Not to me.
Except for a pathological need|to have teachers, gurus...
That's not it!|It's a way of breaking out.
You can't understand,|you got your Ph.D. at 26.
When we were studying,
I was every bit as smart|as the rest of you.
But I fell in love,|like a woman is supposed to.
So while you were at Berkeley,|and Pierre at Princeton...
..I rotted in the country 'cause|Roger was on his nature trip.
You seemed happy enough.
I was happy.
I had two kids, but instead|of studying demography,
I learned how to make jam.
Now I have to work as a TA
at one fifth your salary,|and without job security.
I'm not covered by the best|contract in North America.
I can't take|a year's sabbatical in Brazil.
I have to do interviews
to send my kids|to private school.
I'll never have tenure.
I'm getting old.
I can't read and take notes
for five hours straight.
My memory's going, too.
I had to refer|to the Kellogg-Briand Pact.
I couldn't remember Briand,|only the name of the cereal
Kellogg's Corn Flakes.
That's not age, it's drugs!
You're an old hippy.
I'll bet you remember|Souvanna Phouma!
- And Souphanouvong!|- And?
Phoumi Nosavan!
What's that?
Laotian politicians,|half-brothers and a cousin.
The scourge of contemporary|history exams.
Worse than Schleswig-Holstein.
You know, Diane,
you never really know|how you should lead your life.
So your kids got in the way|of your Ph.D
but they're yours.
That' s something to treasure.
- Who's that?|- A friend of mummy's.
What's he doing there?
Sleeping.
I want him to go!
I'm going.
I always wanted a child.
Children are life...
..an affirmation of life.
I was going to adopt|a Cambodian child.
A social worker had|to evaluate me, so...
Better to have two kids|who love you
than to end up like Pierre,
alone, bitter,|without any family.
But I do have a family.
Here, sitting around this table.
It's a family I love.
I feel closer to this family|than to my brother
or my parents,
who could never figure me out
and complain 'cause|I don't go to mass.
You're my family.
Who can that be?
Are we expecting anyone?
Diane, it's for you.
He was here earlier.
I never see anyone|outside the department.
I'm like you.
Take off your glasses.
Mario, you haven't|met Dominique,
Louise
and Danielle.
I'll get you a chair.
Would you like some coulibiac?
Some what?
It's a salmon pie, but I used trout|instead of salmon.
It's good,|it's a Russian recipe.
I don't like fish.
Would you like some|Stilton cheese?
I'm not hungry.
But you didn't eat.
Have some wine at least.
Got any beer?
Do you live around here?
Talking to me?
Are you from the area?
You may be wrong about|my getting old alone.
I may not make it.|There's lung cancer,
heart attacks...
Women live to old age, not men.
Isn't that levelling out?
Just the opposite.
Women's life expectancy is 78.
For men it's 70.
The gap keeps widening.
That's the crucial change|in our lives.
Less than 200 years ago,
women lived to about 36.
Not a long life.
The records are full|of widows and widowers,
orphans and stepchildren.
That's all vanished|in less than a century.
What's with this beer?
It's imported Pilsner.
You like this?
Occasionally.
Think about it,
marriages lasted|an average of 15 years.
We've been married 15 years.
Five generations back|it would all be over.
One of you would be dead.
You should write on that.
6,000 scholarly articles|are published
every day.
One more or less...
I've had enough of this.
We're still eating.
This is a pain.
We're talking.
Intellectuals love to talk.
All you do is talk.
All day they went on|about sex.
I expected an orgy.
lnstead, the big thrill|is a fish pie.
What are you suggesting?
When I'm horny, I fuck.|What d'you say?
Mario, please.
Well, how 'bout it?
I'll be outside.
It was delicious,|but I'm not hungry.
I didn't think|she was that far gone.
People should only
speak of what they know, that's it.
The Pope knows all about
masturbation|and prostate ailments.
He can talk about that.
Banking, too.
And the CIA.|Don't underestimate the Pope.
Marx was your average|middleclass German
who fucked the maid|behind his wife's back.
His theories are rooted|in his sense of guilt.
Same for Freud.
A latent homosexual,
unable to lay his wife|after age 40,
hot and bothered|over his female patients.
His quarrels with Jung
were really about women...
about sex.
I get a kick
out of eminent sociologists|and psychologists
who spew forth|theories of sexuality
when I've seen them
being flogged with wet towels|in a massage parlour.
You go to places like that?
Sure.
Often?
How do you feel about it?
- How I feel?|- Well, I mean...
If I ever found out|Rémy had been to one...
..I'd never forgive him.
Why not?
He's got me.
If he wants a massage,|I'll be happy to give him one.
I don't go to those places.
- That's no surprise.|- What do you mean?
Want me to describe|a female fantasy?
The female fantasy.
The woman is at home,
in the nest she has|so lovingly decorated.
Her husband or lover arrives.
He's brought flowers|and a bottle of champagne.
He is extremely nice.
They spend a pleasant evening,
and make love.
End of fantasy.
What a bore!
Whenever he talks about love,
he makes it seem ridiculous.
But Pierre...
Don't you realise the lives|those poor women lead?
How they're forced|to work there?
You might as well be a rapist.|It's just as bad.
Those poor girls...|they need help.
How do you know?
I've seen stories on them.
Thursday afternoon I can't.
I'll miss|"Demographic Methodology".
What about after?
I was hoping to take|"Statistics and the Computer".
Be reasonable,|Thursday's our busiest day.
Manon can't get a sitter|and Carole's husband is home.
What'll I do?
If I miss that course|I'll never be able to keep up.
We'll see.
It's been a while.
It's end of term.
I'm up to my neck|in corrections.
You need a good massage.
- With shower?|- Yeah.
This afternoon I have|Miss Kim, Miss Sandra
and Miss Susan.
A new girl.
She only works part time.
Very well liked.
I recommend her.
Alright, I'll take your word.
One regular with shower.
{y:i}Coming.
It won't be long.
This way.
See you later.
You work part time?
Yeah, I'm a student.
- What are you studying?|- History.
At the university?
Yeah, my first semester.
People say we live|in a violent society.
It comes up on TV all the time.|Violence in contemporary society.
From a historical perspective,|that's just not true.
It's a relatively peaceful age.
Your towel?
Your glasses?
Reporters get all worked up|because of 10% unemployment.
Think about London|back in 1850.
On a population of one million,
600,000 people were literally|starving to death.
That's what I like about history,|it's so reassuring.
Papers finished?
I still have one|in Mediaeval History.
What's your subject?
Millennarianism.
I'm fascinated by all the talk|about the year 2000.
Do you want the special?
The price is...
..25 for manual, 40 for oral.|I don't go further.
Let's make it by hand.
Should I pay now?
No, after.
That's why|the year 1000 interests me.
In Europe, it was a major event.
People believed that on|January 1 of the year 1000,
the world would end.
Gabriel's trumpet,
the Four Horsemen,|the Last Judgement, the whole bit.
God, I forgot to take off my robe.
I'm not very sexy.
You're just fine.
The churches were packed.
People sold their houses|and gave their money to the poor.
Others whipped themselves|during public processions.
Some even kissed lepers
and licked their sores.
What interests me...
Excuse me...
- I'm about to come.|- Oh, sorry.
I talk too much.
Thank you, miss.
My pleasure, sir.
{y:i}That's where it happened.
{y:i}I fell head over heels in love.
{y:i}Ejaculating while|{y:i}discussing the millennium
{y:i}was intellectually and|{y:i}physically overwhelming.
{y:i}Signs of the empire's|{y:i}decline are everywhere.
{y:i}Society despises|{y:i}its own institutions.
{y:i}The birth rate keeps dropping.
{y:i}Men refuse|{y:i}to serve in the army.
{y:i}The national debt|{y:i}is out of control.
{y:i}The work week|{y:i}is getting shorter.
{y:i}Bureaucracies are rampant.
{y:i}The elites are in decay.
{y:i}With the collapse|{y:i}of the Marxist-Leninist dream...
{y:i}..no model exists|{y:i}of which we could say.
{y:i}"This is how we want to live."
{y:i}In our personal lives,
{y:i}unless one is|{y:i}a mystic or a saint,
{y:i}there are no models to live by.
{y:i}Our very existence|{y:i}is being eroded.
{y:i}And you believe this process|{y:i}is inevitable?
{y:i}Yes, absolutely.
{y:i}Though there will always be|{y:i}charlatans
{y:i}claiming salvation|{y:i}lies in communications,
{y:i}microchips, the return to religion,|{y:i}physical fitness,
{y:i}or some other idiocy.
{y:i}A civilization's decline|{y:i}is as inevitable as old age.
{y:i}We can try to slow|{y:i}down the process.
{y:i}That's all.
{y:i}We're fortunate here to be|{y:i}on the outskirts of the empire.
{y:i}The shocks are less violent.
{y:i}Life in these times
{y:i}can be very pleasant|{y:i}in some respects.
{y:i}Anyway,
{y:i}our mindset precludes|{y:i}any other form of experierce.
{y:i}I think few of us
{y:i}could live among the Puritans|{y:i}of New England in the 1650s.
{y:i}Dominique St-Arnaud, thank you.
That was cheerful.
Well, I don't agree.
I'm sure there are experts|who can prove just the opposite.
That we're living in an age|of incredible rebirth.
That science has never|progressed so fast.
That life has never been better.
It's impossible to understand|the age you live in.
All you can do is try to be happy.
That's what people|have always wanted.
The rest invent theories|to justify their misery.
You said so yourself.
No, in my opinion...
Just because you choose|to live alone
and sacrifice your life|to a career
doesn't mean|that if I'm lucid,
I have to be depressed.
You haven't said a word|about the book.
I bet they agree with me
but are scared to say so.
I think they feel superior.
Superior? Why?
Because you've both slept with me.
What does that have to do with it?
I think that for men like you,
love always entails|a struggle for power.
Rémy's often said he'd like|to seduce a big intellectual.
I don't know, say...
- Susan Sontag.|- Right.
It's the urge|to appropriate her.
To dominate her,|almost physically.
Come on...
It can also be the desire|to share, to be with.
Perhaps.
But I can't trust the disdain|of men who've made me come.
Who've "had" me.
Well, who knows...
I may be wrong.
I've always wondered...
..would we see the missiles|in a nuclear war?
No, they'd be too high.
But when they start to fall?
The missiles don't fall,|just the bombs.
And they're small.
Would we see the explosions|in the US?
If Plattsburgh were hit,
we'd probably see the fireball.
Do you have any Valium?
I don't think so,|but we'll get you something.
I was taking too much Valium,|I had to stop.
There's librium.
Anything else?
I've got Mogadons and Sorpax.
I'll take two.
It's hit you hard, eh?
I'd like to have a baby with you.
To remind me...
For later.
You have to like yourself|to procreate.
I don't.
I'm not optimistic enough.
You'd be a good father.
Intellectuals rarely|make good parents.
Think of Diane's kids,|or Rémy's.
Disasters.
And I'm too selfish.
Having to listen|to heavy metal
when I'm reading...
You are going|to grow old alone.
Having kids won't change that.
They'd put me in a home
and resent having to visit me|at Christmas.
I love you.
I love you, too.
Want to make love?
I'm too tired.
You'll have to ask some kid,|like Alain.
He can't hope for better.
I want to make love to you,|you old fool.
You never understand.
I know you're just after my body.
You can hardly get it up!
I love you, tubby.
Me too, you're real lucky.
Don't I know.
Scotch?
No, I don't like it.
Too bad.
- Why did you do it?|- What?
Tell Louise|about you and Rémy.
It just slipped out.
I wanted to get back at her.
Why?
I don't know.
It just came over me.
It's not like you.
You're always so calm,
so cheerful.
I've never seen you|lose your patience.
It's one thing|I can't stomach.
What?
Blindness.
People who are unable|to see reality.
Talk to me.
Tomorrow.
What went on with Dominique?
Nothing.
That's not what she said.
Can we talk|about it tomorrow?
I just took Sorpax.
Talk to me.
Don't cry.
It's not worth crying over.
I just can't take|these middle-class housewives
with their cute husbands|and cute kids.
I've watched so many men|getting dressed at 2am.
Still, Rémy's special.
He's screwed all Montréal.
He says he's like the Red Cross,|a universal donor.
Two years he slept with Diane.
Oh yeah? With Diane?
Anyone in a skirt at school...
..down to the last secretary.
And then there are all the others.
He told me he laid|Louise's sister
and really got off on it.
But he's not that handsome.
Doesn't mean a thing.
He loves sex.
That's irresistible.
So many men don't really enjoy it.
Please put your arms around me.
If only you knew how much|that calm look costs me.
Every morning I wake up in a rage.
What about?
Anything,|nothing, everything.
It takes two cups of coffee|to hold me together.
There are painters of the night|like Rembrandt,
or Georges De La Tour.
But there are few|who paint the dawn.
Dawn is the hour of death,
the hour of sea-grey light.
There is Géricault.
And above all, Caravaggio.
I brought you something.
Hope you like it.
Rough night?
The way I like'em.
There was blood|in my urine again.
A lot?
The bowl was full.
It's been like that for a week.
What is it?
They don't know yet.
God, you're soaking.
Come and eat.
Bacon and eggs,|those I can handle.
You seem chipper.
Country air
does me good.
Dominique, Diane, Claude|will always be alone, abandoned.
Pierre and Danielle won't last|more than a year.
We've been together 20 years.
That's what love is.
It lasts, it can overcome|a child's illness, or old age.
It's you I want to sleep with...
..the rest of my life.
I love you so much.
Shit!
Need help?
Yeah, maybe.
Let me.
Can I see you again?
Of course.
Why do you ask?
I dunno.
I never know what you really mean.
Words are cheap, baby.
What's that?
Don't listen to me...
touch me.
Touch me, baby.
..Like when Robert Turmel|returned from Venice...
- I know, I was with him.|- Oh, yeah.
So you heard about|his hot affair with an ltalian.
Come on, he spent one night
with Francesca Maserona,|the Pollaiuolos specialist.
His wife said it was|more than one night.
One night, he told me so.
Anyway, when he got back,|he told his wife.
He didn't tell her!
But I got this from her!
He should know.
Dominique can settle this.
What did Robert tell his wife|when he got back from ltaly?
All he said was|he had an affair.
The way I heard it, just|as he was about to confess,
his wife told him|she had an affair.
- He was shattered.|- His wife never said that!
No, it's impossible.
His wife probably|suspected something.
No, she didn't.
If she'd suspected...
You can sense these things.
No, he sensed her uneasiness.
I know Robert very well.
He wouldn't lie to me.
One of them is lying.
- I tend to believe his wife.|- Me too, when it comes to that.
He is very sensitive.
You mean touchy.
You think he's touchy?
Come help.
Is that it?
Do you still give lessons?
Two afternoons.
It's tough with the kids.
You could get a sitter.
I swear that's what happened.
I guess we'll never|really know for sure.
You okay?
Yeah.
DC Sniper 23 Days of Fear
D A R Y L 1985
Daddy Day Care
Daffy Duck - Drip Along Daffy (1951)
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Dark Angel 1x15 Haven
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Diana Krall Live in Paris
Diarios De Motocicleta
Diary of a Chambermaid
Diary of a Country Priest (1951 Bresson Robert)
Dias de Nietzsche em Turim
Dickie Roberts Former Child Star
Die Another Day (2002) CD1
Die Another Day (2002) CD2
Die Hard 1988 Extended Version CD1
Die Hard 1988 Extended Version CD2
Die Hard With a Vengeance
Die Nibelungen - Die Kriemhilds Rache CD1
Die Nibelungen - Die Kriemhilds Rache CD2
Diez de hollywood Los 1951
Dil Ka Kya Kasoor
Dil Ka Rishta
Dinosaur
Dirty Dancing
Dirty Dancing - Havana Nights
Dirty Harry
Dirty Tiger Crazy Frog 1978
Disaster
Discovery Air Jaws Sharks of South Africa
Discovery Channel - Raising The Mammoth
Dish The
Disha
Disorderly Orderly The
Distant Lights
Distant Thunder
Diva
Django spara per primo
Do Raaste
Do The Right Thing CD1
Do The Right Thing CD2
Dobry vojak Svejk
Dodeskaden (Akira Kurosawa)
Dodgeball - A True Underdog Story
Dog Nail Clipper
Dog Soldiers (2002)
Dogma
Dogs Of War The 1981
Dogville CD1
Dogville CD2
Doing Hard Time CD1
Doing Hard Time CD2
Dois Perdidos Numa Noite Suja 2002
Dokument Fanny och Alexander CD1
Dokument Fanny och Alexander CD2
Dolce Vita La 1960 CD1
Dolce Vita La 1960 CD2
Dolores Claiborne (1995)
Dolphins
Domicile conjugal
Don Giovanni CD1
Don Giovanni CD2
Dong (The Hole) 1998
Donggam (2000) - Ditto
Donnie Brasco
Donnie Darko
Dont Be A Menace To South Central While Drinking Your Juice In The Hood
Dont Bother to Knock
Dont look now
Dont say a word
Donzoko 1957
Door in the Floor The 2004
Doors The CD1
Doors The CD2
Dora-Heita 2000
Double Jeopardy
Double Team
Double Vision (Shuang Tong)
Doulos Le
Down By Law 1986
Down Periscope
Down Time
Down With Love
Down and Out in Beverly Hills
Dr Dolittle
Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde
Dr No
Dr Strangelove
Dracula - Dead and Loving It
Dracula 1931
Dracula 1979
Dracula Has Risen From The Grave 1968
Dragon Head CD1
Dragon Head CD2
Dragonball Z
Dragonfly
Dragonheart (1996)
Dragonheart - Collectors Edition
Dragons Forever (Jackie Chan)
Dragstrip Girl
DreamKeeper 2003 CD1
DreamKeeper 2003 CD2
Dream Master The
Dream Of A Warrior (Cheonsamong)
Dreamcatcher
Dreamers The
Dreamlife of Angels The
Dressed to Kill 1980
Drifting Clouds
Driving Miss Daisy
Driving miss Wealthy (2004)
Drop Dead Gorgeous 1999
Drowning Mona CD1
Drowning Mona CD2
Druids
Drumline
Drums Along the Mohawk
Drunken Master (Yuen Woo-Ping 1978)
Du rififi chez les hommes (Jules Dassin 1955) CD1
Du rififi chez les hommes (Jules Dassin 1955) CD2
Duck Soup (1933 Marx Brothers)
Dude Wheres My Car
Duel The
Duel in the Sun CD1
Duel in the Sun CD2
Duel to the Death
Duellists The
Duets
Dumb And Dumberer When Harry Met Lloyd 2003
Dumb and Dumber
Dumbo
Dune 2000 - 1 of 3
Dune 2000 - 2 of 3
Dune 2000 - 3 of 3
Dungeons And Dragons
Dunken Monkey 2002
Dushmun
Dust in the Wind (Hsiao-hsien Hou 1986)
Dying td CD1
Dying td CD2
The Dawns Here Are Quiet The CD2