The Apartment (L'Appartement)

Look at this one.

Simple, yet noble and discreet,

without being ordinary.

It's charm lies in the fact that it isn't frivolous.

This one is more capricious... sparkly, spicy.

But brush up too close and you could get hurt.

It's not meant to be caressed, simply looked at.

More discreet than that last one,

and yet full of surprises. It appears dull,

but change the light

and it burns like a star.

See how it shines? Beautiful, isn't it?

Yes.

I don't know. I like all three.

Can I call you?

THE APARTMENT

Mr. Beccaria is expecting you with the Japanese.

Yes, I know, I'm late. Tell me all I need to know.

Well...

Airport check-in, 7:00 p.m.

- Arrival? - Tokyo, tomorrow at 2:00 p.m.

Meridien Hotel.

You'll be taking Mr. Fumiko's jet the next day.

That's a pretty suit.

A taxi's waiting downstairs. You come back on the 24th.

The 24th? Four days.

- Without hearing your voice! - Don't forget the jeweler.

Bye, Madeleine.

- Max? - Lucien!

Is it really you?

You've changed your hair.

- I thought you were in New York. - I came back.

When?

You'll be mad... Two months ago.

Couldn't you have called?

Look, don't take it like that. Let me explain.

- I'm getting married. - Come off it!

No, her name's Muriel. I met her in New York.

- Get out of it! - No, it's true.

All right! Fucking cars!

I'm double-parked.

I'm off to Japan tonight. I'll call you

In two years!

I might not have the shop much longer. Keep the card.

I'll call you in five days.

Excuse me. Mr. Noda, Ms. Tami, Max Mayer.

- Pleased to meet you. - Me, too.

Mr. Noda can get his pen ready. Max is the man for the job.

Excuse me.

This lad's going to go far.

Hello.

This is my sister Muriel. Mr. Noda, Ms. Tami.

- He's indispensable to us all! - Stop it, Alain.

- For the plane. Half a pill. - Okay, thanks.

Sorry, but we have to be at the airport in an hour.

To our project, then!

Mr. Noda proposes a toast to our companies' engagement.

I have to make a phone call.

Yes?

Hello?

Where are you? You were supposed to meet me.

Look, I have to see you, right away.

No, you listen to me! I'm leaving you.

I called you just to say that. It's over.

There's nothing to explain.

I read about it in the paper. I don't believe it was an accident.

Daniel, I shouldn't have called you. Goodbye

Lisa?

Are you all right?

- Mr. Noda wants to pay. - No, I've got it.

- Domo arigato. - Thank you.

You have to fix Mr. Deville's mike for Monday.

I can't do it for Monday. I'm waiting for the recorder...

- What do you expect? - Sort it out!

You've got a nerve!

- Well? - This camera needs hours of work.

It'll never be ready for Wednesday.

When's it for?

Wednesday, I think.

Sorry.

- Hello, Michelle. - Hi, Lisa.

"Demetrius loves your fair. O happy fair!

Your eyes are lode-stars.

Your tongue more tuneable than a lark to a shephards ear.

Were favor catching, yours would I catch.

My ear should catch your voice,

my tongue should catch

your tongue's sweet melody.

Teach me with what art you sway

the motion of Demetrius' heart."

- Max, what are you doing? - Nothing.

Come on, we've only got half an hour.

Thanks.

What?

Think about me and call me when you get there.

I'll call tomorrow.

Good evening.

- Can I speak to room 413, please? - Of course.

I'm sorry, but room 413 doesn't want to be disturbed.

Do you have a message?

It's very important.

I'm sorry, I have very strict instructions.

- Okay, thanks. - You're welcome.

Sorry

No, it's my fault.

Room 413 is along the corridor on the right.

Oh, yes, sorry. Thanks.

You're welcome.

Straighten your leg out, nice and straight.

You have very exquisite ankles. Show them off!

Can I see the same in brown? I'd never wear these.

Just a minute.

- I've met someone! - That's great. Who?

- A fabulous girl. - Yes? And?

Well, nothing. She's...

she's dark, very dark,

with a stubborn sort of look to her.

She's got a high forehead and these really black eyes.

- Something special about her. - What?

I don't know--

a sort of sadness, a tragic aspect...

Have you spoken to her?

No, that's the problem. She doesn't know I exist.

I've been following her.

She'll think I'm a stalker. I can't carry on like that.

That's for sure.

- Josiane. - Yes?

Where are the Stadlers?

Right in front of your face!

I can't stop thinking about her. I haven't been to work.

What should I do?

Pull yourself together. Do something about it or forget her.

Thanks. I try to talk to you--

Look, restricting yourself to one woman is bollocks!

It means missing out on all the others.

It's not just stupid, it's cowardly

Look around you. They all have "something special."

Look at the little chubby one over there,

the brunette outside...

I spend all my day at their feet.

Why do you think I do this job?

- Hello. - Hello.

I'd like to try on the court shoes in the window.

The ones in the corner. Size 37.

Max, take care of the lady.

Colour!

- What size? - 37. Do you have them in red?

In red? I don't know.

Could you go and check?

Red, 37... red, 37...

- 37, red... - Go for it! Attack!

- These seem okay. - Yes.

Perfect. I'll take them in red.

In red?

Look...

Sorry. We don't have them in that colour.

- A shame. - Yes, it is.

But it doesn't matter, because...

we'll be happy to-- just leave me--

leave us your number...

Do you spy on people a lot?

Sorry? I...

Don't act innocent.

Do you like stalking me?

Haven't you got anything better to do?

Look, you've got it wrong. Let me explain.

Let me buy you a coffee and...

Please, just give me the time to--

No explanations, and no coffeee, not even over the road.

Call me when the shoes come in.

Red ones, okay? Goodbye.

"Rue de Paradis tomorrow at 7:00. You can stop stalking me now."

- It lasted for a year. - Really?

I fall for someone. Next day, it's over,

as if I had two or three different personalities.

Like a lunatic.

Thanks very much.

What I can't stand is half-heartedness.

One of your rules of life?

Let's talk about you.

I'm waiting for some replies.

Waiting?

Yes. I might get offered a job in New York.

But the thing I really want to do is write.

A writer?

Well, half of one. I've written half a novel.

- Can I read it? - When it's finished.

Hurry up, I don't have your patience.

Thanks for the ride. See you.

Asshole.

"Tragic Weekend"

Sir, we have a problem with 413.

"Art dealer Daniel de Fouquieres

lost his wife in a car crash on Friday,

as she was on her way to their country house.

The funeral will be held on the 21st of September

at Pere Lachaise crematorium."

I read about it in the paper.

I don't believe it was an accident.

Get this door open, you idiots!