Last Tango in Paris Page #3
Faithful, economic and racist.
At Papas death, we moved
to the old country house.
My childhood was
made up of smells.
The mold on the walls,
the closed rooms.
Many children came to play.
We ran from morning to night.
Growing old is a crime.
Thats me.
And thats Mademoiselle Sauvage,
the teacher.
Severe and religious.
She was too good
and spoiled you.
This is Christine.
The best friend.
Shes married
and has two children.
Its like a village here.
Everyone knows everyone.
I couldnt live in Paris.
Its more humane here.
Its melancholy
remembering the past.
Why melancholy?
Its marvelous.
Its your childhood.
It`ss everything I want.
And what are you doing there?
Who are all these zombies
around us?
The door!
Im opening the door.
Im opening the doors!
- What are you doing?
- Setting up the shot.
There. I found it.
Reverse gear.
And what are you doing here?
Beat it! Scram!
Yes. Reverse gear!
Understand? Like a car.
Put it in reverse.
Close your eyes.
Back up. Close your eyes.
Come forward, backing up.
Keep going
and find your childhood again.
Its Papa.
There. You take off
and find your childhood again.
In full dress uniform.
Dont be afraid.
Overcome the obstacles.
Papa in Algiers.
You are fifteen. Fourteen.
Thirteen. Twelve.
Eleven. Ten. Nine.
My favorite street
My notebook.
My French homework.
Theme:
"The Countryside. "Exposition:
"The countryis the home of the cows.
The cow is
all dressed in leather.
The cow has four sides:
front, back...
top and bottom. `
- Isnt that good?
- Really charming.
Source of my culture
"Menstruation. Feminine noun.
Physiological function
consisting in flow.
Penis. Masculine noun.
Organ of copulation, measuring
between five and 40 centimeters. `
This is a little Robert!
Look.
- Who is it?
- My first love.
- Who?
- Its my cousin Paul. The first love.
- But his eyes are closed.
- What?
His eyes are closed!
Thats how I remember him-
sitting at the piano.
His fingers flew over the keys.
At the bottom of the garden
there were two trees.
A plantain and a chestnut.
Sunday after mass...
everyone sat under his own tree.
It was marvelous.
We looked into each others eyes.
And for me these trees
were the jungle.
- What are you doing?
- Were shitting.
Why? Cant you see?
- In my jungle?
- Lets run!
Shoot! Shoot!
Did you get everything?
- Did you get it?
- Everything.
Olympia was sublime. She gave
a precise idea of her racism.
This really is a jungle.
Tell me about your father.
- Arent we finished?
- Five minutes.
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"Last Tango in Paris" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Mar. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/last_tango_in_paris_22467>.
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