Paris, je t'aime (2006)
Francine: Thomas Listen. Listen. There are times when life calls out for a change. A transition. Like the seasons. Our spring was wonderful, but summer is over now and we missed out on autumn. And now all of a sudden, it's cold, so cold that everything is freezing over. Our love fell asleep, and the snow took it by surprise. But if you fall asleep in the snow, you don't feel death coming. Take care
Thomas: And you were accepted, of course. You moved from Boston to Paris into a little apartment on the rue du Faubourg-Saint-Denis. I showed you our neighborhood, my bars, my school. I introduced you to my friends, my parents. I listened to your texts, your singing, your hopes, your desires, your music. You listened to mine. My Italian, my German, a bit of Russian. I gave you a walkman. You gave me a pillow. And one day, you kissed me. Time went by, time flew and everything seemed so easy, so simple, so free, so new, so unique. We went to the movies, we went dancing, we went shopping, we laughed, you cried, we swam, we smoked, we shaved, you screamed; sometimes for no reason, or for a reason. Yes, sometimes for a reason. I brought you to the academy, I studied for my exams, I listened to your singing, to your hopes, your desires, your music. You listened to mine. We were close, so close, ever so close. We went to the movies, we swam, we laughed. You screamed, sometimes for a reason and sometimes without. Time went by, time flew. I brought you to the academy, I studied for my exams. You listened to my Italian, German, Russian, French. I studied for my exams. You screamed, sometimes for a reason. Time went by for no reason. You screamed for no reason. I studied for my exams, my exams, my exams. Time went by, you screamed, you screamed, you screamed. I went to the movies.
The Husband: [In voice-over narration] By acting like a man in love, he became a man in love again.
Carol: Sitting there, alone in a foreign country, far from my job and everyone I know, a feeling came over me. It was like remembering something I'd never known before or had always been waiting for, but I didn't know what. Maybe it was something I'd forgotten or something I've been missing all my life. All I can say is that I felt, at the same time, joy and sadness. But not too much sadness, because I felt alive. Yes, alive. That was the moment I fell in love with Paris. And I felt Paris fall in love with me.
Bob Leander: Can't we walk together?
Fanny Forestier: I'm so ashamed.
Bob Leander: Why? You did it out of love, I assume.
Fanny Forestier: And what do you do, out of love?
Bob Leander: I ache... for who we were.
Fanny Forestier: [in French] Kiss me on impulse! Surprise me!
Bob Leander: Me, me, me, me! You always want your feelings understood! But mine are childish! Sex isn't disgusting unless you make it disgusting! There can be beauty in this place too!
Fanny Forestier: [in French] Not what I call beauty!
Bob Leander: I need a little help! You don't know what it's like for a man when it's all gone! I can't feel anything anymore!
Fanny Forestier: [slaps him] Do you feel *that*?
Bob Leander: [turning to the stripper] What do you charge to watch an argument?
Carol: And then something happened, something that is hard to describe.
[looks around at people around her in the park]
Carol: Sitting there in a foreign country, far from my job and all the people I knew, a feeling came over me. As if I recalled something, smething that I had never known and for which I had been waiting.
Carol: But I didn't know what it was. Maybe it was something I had forgotten. Or something I had missed my whole life. I can only tell you that at the same time I felt joy and sadness.
Carol: But not a great sadness. Because I felt alive. Yes. Alive.
Carol: That was the moment I fell in love with Paris and the moment that I felt that Paris had fallen in love with me.
Carol: They say a lot of things about Paris. They say it's a place where artists find inspiration. They say it's a place where people come to discover something new about their lives. They say it's a place where you can find love.
Carol: Of course, at my age, I didn't expect any of that.
Vincent: [Walking along the street] Claire, make Gaspard a balloon, not a ball and chain.
Claire: Was I a ball and chain?
Vincent: Mon Petit Claire, You were not the ball and chain. You were the zeppelin.
Gaspard: [in French] Haven't we met? I'm sure I know you. Where do you live? I'm in the 17th. Maybe I've seen you around. You don't talk much. I'm not sure, but... I feel like I've seen you before. You look like a mystical guy. Really, you have a very special aura. You believe in spirits? I'm way into that stuff. Maybe we met in a past lifetime.
Elie: [in French] Light?
Gaspard: [in French] A light.
[lights his cigarette]
Gaspard: It's amazing. As soon as I saw you, I needed to talk. It's like... I don't know. A strong, weird feeling. I thought, if I don't talk to you before I go, I'd be missing out on... something... important. Beautiful. You work in a beautiful place. I didn't want to miss the chance to talk to you. It's dumb, but... Never mind. May I?
Gaspard: You believe in soul mates? Finding your other half? You like jazz? Charlie Parker... and Kurt Cobain. I love him! Whatever. Here's my number. I'd really like to talk with you, if you call me, more seriously and... for longer, especially.
Printer: [in French] What's up?
Elie: I'm not sure, Christian. He gave me this.
Printer: [in French] A phone number?
Elie: I don't know what he was saying. I don't speak French that well. He used a lot of phrases that aren't in my phrase book.
Printer: [in French] Call him and see.
Elie: [takes off running]
Ana: [singing in Spanish to Bourgeoisie's baby] Pretty little hands that I have how pretty and how white that God gave me. Pretty little eyes that I have how pretty and black that God gave me. Pretty little mouth that I have how pretty and red that God gave me. Pretty little feet that I have how pretty and chubby that God gave me...
Zarka: [speaking to Franois] I'm surprised to see you here.
Zarka: I'm Zarka.
Franois: Franois... How are your hands.
Zarka's Grandfather: It was good of you to help her.
Franois: Only natural.
Hassan: [Injured and bleeding] I just got stung by a lousy mosquito. These neighborhoods are dangerous. Lagos is safer. What's your name?
Hassan: I'd give you my card but I have none left. Too bad! Sophie, fancy a cup of coffee? Go on! Can I massage your feet?
Sophie: Why would I let you?
Hassan: Because they hurt.
Sophie: They do?
Hassan: You were running in my dreams all night... Please have coffee with me.
Zarka: You're even worse at this than getting girls.
Franois: My friends do that stuff, not me.
Zarka: They're pathetic.
Franois: You have beautiful hair, why do you have to cover it up?
Zarka: I don't have to. I choose to.
Franois: Too bad, 'cause you're so pretty.
Zarka: You mean I'm not beautiful in my hijab?
Franois: [laughs] That's not what I meant.
Zarka: You and your friends don't know shit about women. Why talk to them like that? When you can see they don't like it? If I want to look beautiful, I do it for me. When I wear this I feel part of a faith, an identity. I feel good. That's what beauty is. Tell that to your friends. Then maybe one day, they might even get laid.
Carol: Sometimes I think it would be nice to have someone, with whom to share this life.