The Shrinking Man (L'Homme qui rétrécit)

There are laws of the universe we're yet to understand.

Invisible forces that govern our existence

and can upset the natural order of things.

We are voyagers in a cosmos of incomprehensible secrets.

Simply looking at the sky makes us feel dizzy,

incredibly tiny,

a drop in the ocean,

a speck of dust on a stone...

Infinitesimal.

That is what we are.

Some tend to forget that.

Others try hard not to think about it.

We all lower our eyes and get on with it.

We strive to believe we have a meaning,

a goal.

We tell ourselves stories

and we call that...

a life.

MAY 2nd.

Even so, whatever we do,

our lives never resemble the stories we tell ourselves.

They resist,

they escape us.

We shouldn't regret it.

There's so little we decide.

Deep down, our lives can do without us.

Morning!

- Hi, Xavier. - Hi, boss.

Did Thierry call?

What?

Did Thierry call you yet?

Yes, we'll talk tomorrow.

Xavier, your helmet!

I'm finishing up.

Put it on anyway.

We need to speed up.

It's our biggest project.

Our only project.

I'd like them to pay us.

Yes, but don't worry.

Because, right now, cash

is pretty tight.

Yes. Right then...

And call the architect.

Will do.

Even with all we need to be happy,

there's still something missing.

Happiness is a perfume

that captivates us before we get used to it.

What then?

Keep getting on with it?

A new goal? A new story?

- Hi, Daddy. - Hello, darling.

Can it really go on like that?

We didn't mention...

the ventilation.

No, do your homework.

It's finished.

It's crazy, we can't even open a window.

That's not what I said.

No, you don't get it.

I'm busy. Do your homework now, sweetie.

I've done it.

You haven't.

I have.

I already know that.

Shit!

I'm going...

Bring up some wine.

- I want to see Bubble! - Come back.

Hey!

- Go on. - Not you, Tofu.

No!

Dad, when can we get new fish?

We can't, darling. It's tricky with Tofu.

Bubble is all alone.

He likes it that way.

Mia, pass me those pliers on the bench.

I'll be back, Bubble.

Thanks.

Dad?

What is it?

The spider...

What spider?

Kill it!

No, I won't kill it.

Please...

Spiders are useful, you know.

They eat mosquitoes.

Kill it anyway.

It won't eat you.

It won't eat you...

because I will first.

Not the monster...

I'm going to eat you!

Stop it!

Come on.

Go back up.

The mice have gone.

- Daddy said no, Mia. - A tortoise then?

A tortoise is fine.

The cat wouldn't eat it.

I'd take care of it.

Please.

So we'd leave Friday night?

Yeah.

We can't...

Mia's dance gala is on Saturday.

I don't want to go.

- Why not? - I'm not a good dancer.

What? Who said that?

The big girls say we're rubbish,

can't dance,

and whisper too loudly.

You shouldn't talk in class.

They're jealous, Mia.

You know what?

Dance however you like, you dance very well.

Come and show me.

Music!

Fancy entrechat!

See? We can dance as we like!

MAY 5th.

Seen my phone?

No.

I'm late.

Have a nice day, darling.

It was due within 30 days, Mr Declève.

It's been two months now.

It's the same for us.

That's it.

I'm counting on you.

Thank you. Goodbye.

You with us, Paul?

Yes.

I've finished.

Want some yoghurt?

No.

Rehearsed your poem?

Yes.

Pyjamas, teeth, hands...

I won't be long.

Dad, can we do a riddle after?

Not tonight, sweetie.

Tomorrow.

You said that yesterday.

Yes, but it's late.

You could make an effort.

A story.

Of course, the princess built her castle on a shooting star!

That's impossible.

- Impossible. - It's not!

It is, Mia, because a shooting star

is a rock the size of a speck of dust.

Well, in the story, it's a rock big enough for a castle.

Even our princess couldn't do that. And she's very tired now.

- She isn't. - She is.

She's exhausted.

No...

Bedtime, sweetie.

Good night.

Daddy!

No, Mia!

- Come here! - Not tonight.

Please!

You're a pain.

My back hurts.

Come on!

And into bed!

Okay? Good night.

Good night.

- Go to sleep. - Yes.

We keep on imagining what doesn't exist,

the worst and the best.

That's our strength and our curse.

Dreaming of elsewhere,

of changing everything,

of starting anew maybe, as long as something happens.

And something always happens.

Necessarily, things occur.

MAY 7th.

I don't get it...

Something's wrong. Look.

Maybe you lost weight.

Don't be stupid. I'm shorter.

Speak to me nicely, alright?

Look, Elise.

I don't know, maybe you're less bulky.

Breathe in.

And again.

That's fine. Let's measure you.

Just here.

1.76 metres.

Are you joking?

You can get dressed.

No, that's impossible, I've never been that short.

I've been 1.80 metres since I was 18.

I've always been that tall.

How much do you weigh?

74 kilos.