Madame Bovary
- PG-13
- Year:
- 1991
- 143 min
- 1,792 Views
Are you the doctor?
Yes. Climb on.
Rouault's one of the richest
around here.
He broke his leg after a night's
drinking.
It's that way.
His wife died 2 years ago.
His daughter runs the house now.
Wait.
Follow me.
Oh, excuse me!
The doctor, father.
Doctor, I've broken my leg.
Let's have a look at it.
It's a neat fracture, nice and
clean.
I'll make you a splint.
We'll need to have some little
pads made too.
Can you do that, Emma?
This should do it.
- Will it take long to set?
- Two months.
Perhaps less. I'll call back to see
you...
in three days.
Good-bye, mademoiselle.
I'd like to know your name.
Charbovari.
Pardon me?
Charles Bovary.
See you in three days, doctor.
M. Rouault. What a surprise!
Look. A doctor in Yvetot couldn't
have done better.
Even one in Rouen!
Here.
Here's what I owe you.
I don't owe you this but I'm happy
to give it to you.
You're a widower too, I hear.
When I lost my poor wife...
I'd go to the fields to be alone.
I'd fall at the foot of a tree,
crying...
and raving at the good Lord.
When I thought of others holding
their dear wives...
I nearly went crazy.
I'd hit the ground with my stick. I
couldn't eat.
You won't believe me...
but the idea of going to the cafe
sickened me.
And then, slowly...
one day followed another...
autumn came after summer...
it faded away...
it drained away bit by bit...
it went away.
Stir yourself, M. Bovary.
You'll see, you'll get over it.
Yes, I'm sure I will.
Come and see us.
My daughter...
talks of you sometimes...
she says you've forgotten her.
We'll ferret out a rabbit for you,
to cheer you up.
Monsieur Charles! How kind to
come and see us.
Father's running around all over
the place, thanks to you.
Let me offer you a drink.
No, thank you.
Really.
Come on, let's drink. I'm thirsty.
I'm disturbing you...
I've had dizzy spells for a month
now.
Would sea-bathing do me good?
Sea-bathing?
That's good... for dizzy spells.
At the convent, I'd pretend to
faint.
The nuns would all rush over.
Why did you do that?
To be fussed over.
Come with me.
I like music, but the classes were
so dull.
This was a prize for arithmetic...
and this one for reading.
This one too.
My poor mother was so proud of
me with my laurels.
On the first Friday of the month...
I pick flowers from the garden for
her grave.
I'd like to live in town.
At least in winter.
There again, summer days are so
long, they're even duller.
Don't you think?
Maitre Rouault!
M. Bovary!
Maitre Rouault!
I've something to say to you.
Tell me then... Perhaps I already
know what it is.
M. Rouault...
There's nothing I'd like better...
and I expect the lass agrees...
but we must ask her opinion.
Now, this is what we'll do:
I'll go home but don't bother
coming.
supper.
But so as you won't fret, if it's
yes...
I'll push the shutter back against
the wall.
You can see it from behind the
barn.
Are you happy?
Yes. But I'd have liked a midnight
wedding, by torch-light.
It's a fine day.
That it is!
Charles, you have to cut it.
Go on, Charles, cut it.
Cut it, cut it!
I'm counting on you, dear...
to make my Charles happy at last.
He's so deserving.
I'll put the trap away. Wait here.
Nastasie, this is Madame.
Emma, this is Nastasie, the
housekeeper.
I haven't cooked.
That was wise. We aren't hungry.
You can go to bed, Nastasie.
Do you want to see my surgery?
I'll see it tomorrow.
I want to go to bed.
Nastasie!
Madame's hungry and so am I. What
can we have?
I've made soup.
Good but we need a choice.
Some chocolate or tea.
We haven't any.
Emma!
What do you want to eat? What
would you really like?
I don't know, I don't mind.
Some soup?
Yes, soup. That's fine.
Yes, I know. But it's a good sign.
I've more and more patients.
You must be tired.
A little, yes.
Come and eat. I've made some
gruel.
Where's Nastasie?
It was late. I sent her to bed.
I don't want to keep her.
She's too old.
more intimate...
a growing detachment distanced
her from him.
Charles' conversation was as flat
as a pavement.
It's going to rain.
His borrowed ideas trudged past
in colourless procession...
without emotion, laughter or
dreams.
Well, I think so.
O God, why did I get married?
Home already?
I still have two patients to see.
I've come...
I sent your bills to M. Pommier
and Mme Loubet.
That's good.
Remember the Marquis
d'Andervilliers?
The abscess in his mouth...
He asked us for some cherry-tree
cuttings.
I never saw him.
No, but you will see him.
Just think, he's invited us to his
ball.
Us?
Yes. To his grand ball!
It is true? Is it really true?
Yes, honestly. In two weeks time.
Charles! Tell me, will I have a
pretty dress?
Of course.
Monsieur and Madame Bovary.
Don't rumple my dress.
Are you happy?
dancing.
Dancing? They'd laugh at you! A
doctor doesn't dance!
Look! Champagne!
I'll get some.
That's kind.
- Castellane.
- Bovary.
Oh! Just right!
You danced well. You were very
graceful.
There are even more mysterious
sights:
Vesuvius at dawn, the rose
gardens of Genoa...
the Coliseum by moonlight.
Moonlight's beautiful everywhere.
You're radiant, dear Berthe.
Romulus and Miss Arabelle were
two lengths ahead.
I jumped the ditch. That's howto
win 2,000 pounds in England.
You're luckier than I. My horses
are running to fat.
Could you pick my fan up from
behind the sofa, sir?
Maxime, for pity's sake, it's too
hot.
Your wish is my command, my
dear.
Lucien!
Madame, may I?
Oh, but I'm hardly familiar with
the waltz.
I'll lead. You'll manage very well.
You, Vicomte!
She certainly knows howto waltz!
She probably has lots of practice.
We're among the last to leave.
Did you have fun?
It's the most beautiful day of my
life.
What is it?
I'm taking my boots off. My feet
are killing me.
The most beautiful day of my life.
agree...
with the treatment I gave old
Bouret.
The family looked pretty grim.
What did you answer?
Nothing.
What could I answer?
What?
You were humiliated by a man...
who isn't your equal?
He didn't share my opinion nor I
his.
How dare he judge you! It's
shameful!
It doesn't matter.
Don't get so upset.
No, I won't stand for it!
What a pitiful man!
Secretly, she was waiting for
something.
Every day, on awakening, she
expected it.
surprised when nothing came.
Then, at sunset, ever sadder...
she longed for the next day.
At that time, she hoped...
another ball.
But September went by without a
letter or a visit.
She gave up music...
left her drawings and needlework
in the cupboard.
Sewing annoyed her.
"I've read everything," she'd say.
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