A Good Year Page #3

Thank you.

How'd he know that?

Lance Armstrong!

Maxie! Hi. How are you?

Gemma, come on, love,

admit it:
This is

because I didn't shag you

at the Christmas party,

- isn't it?

- Listen, I swear on my life,

Max, they didn't have

any other cars.

So, where are we, Max?

Oh, for bollocky's sake!

Right, I've gone

to the end of that road...

- Look, they're both the D-3.

- (GPS repeats "Go!" in French)

I've got Menerbes on my left,

or I've got Cavaillon on my right,

and they're both on the D-3.

- Go! Go!

- Oh... shut up!

Okay, okay, hang on a minute.

I'll help you. Hang on.

I've got a...

I've got a GPS here

- Go! Go!

- With a stutter and a...

quite frankly,

a shitty, froggy attitude!

Okay, listen, you turn left

and that'll take you straight

onto the N-7, and if you

really put your foot on it,

you might even get

to your appointment on time.

- Bollocks! Bugger!

Mission control.

All right, love,

please reschedule

my meeting with the notaire

for first thing tomorrow morning.

Okay.

What about the keys, Max?

- Oh, there used to be a stone, you know.

- Uh-huh.

Uh, by the front door. Ask her to put that...

put the keys under the stone,

and I'll, um,

I'll pick them up from there.

Okay, copy that. Copy that.

Huh.

Hello?

Henry?

UNCLE HENRY'S VOICE:

Come on, you're slower than your Aunt Midge!

- That's it, Maximillian.

- (Max grunting)

- It's not funny.

What are you, a man or a mouse?

Fine, then, I'm a mouse. Squeak, squeak!

Hopeless, you're hopeless.

Oh, stop it!

Match point.

Ace!

Game! Set!

- Match!

- You cannot be serious!

- Hey.

- You have to rub it in?

- Hey...

The point is, Max, why

you aren't celebrating?

Because I lost!

Well, a man

should acknowledge

his losses just as gracefully

as he celebrates his victories.

Come on, give us a jig.

Give your old uncle a jig.

- Oh, yeah, I lost.

- Arms and up and down.

Yeah, great, yeah, I lost! I lost!

- Uncle Henry won!

- Yes.

- Three cheers!

- Dance, don't shimmy like an Italian.

Well done, Uncle Henry.

This is stupid.

You'll come to see

that a man learns

nothing from winning.

The act of losing, however,

can elicit great wisdom.

Not least of which is, uh,

how much more enjoyable it is to win.

It's inevitable to lose now and again.

The trick is not

to make a habit of it.

Drink?

Chicken sh*t.

- Excuse me?

On the roses.

Oh, fertilizer.

Oh, Tati.

Hello.

Duflot?

Oui.

- Max.

- My God.

Haven't you... matured.

Ah, c'est vrai,

the floods of'78,

- Right.

- Mistral of'86,

- fanleaf disease in '93.

- Fanleaf disease.

- In each vintage I've

corked away another

year of my youth.

But I still have my wife, Ludivine.

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