Renoir

French Riviera, 1915

Is this where the Renoirs live?

What do you want?

I heard there's work for me here. With a painter.

- Who said that? - Mr. Renoir's wife.

They're waiting for you.

Who are you?

No one.

An orphan.

You're a liar.

Mrs. Renoir is dead. Dead!

Yes?

Is it true what the kid said?

The missus is dead?

The boss is waiting for you.

Did I frighten you, my dear?

No.

Show me your hands.

What's your name?

Andrée.

Andrée Heuschling.

And you say it's my poor wife who sent you?

She told me...

She said maybe I could pose for you.

A girl from out of nowhere...

sent by a dead woman.

I think we're going to work together.

Vermilion...

Of course.

Sienna...

Here you go.

Go easy...

Just a small drop.

What am I supposed to do?

Whatever you please.

If you want to pose for me,

you'll have to be free all day long.

I'll sort it out.

Do you have a job?

Here and there...

I'm an artist.

An artist?

Well, well.

What kind of artist?

Whatever you like.

Actress,

dancer,

singer...

Where am I?

You didn't paint me?

Why should I pose if you don't even paint me?

I'll see you tomorrow, dear.

I'm not promising anything.

I've got better things to do.

Get here earlier

so we can take advantage of the light.

Give her five francs for her trouble.

Can you give her five francs?

I cost ten francs.

Boss, do you mind if I move?

If I minded, I'd paint apples.

I had a friend, a painter, who lived not far from here, in Aix.

He had to hide from the models

hanging around his atelier.

So what did he paint?

Apples...

And wooden mannequins.

That, I could never do.

I need living, breathing material.

What interests me, is skin.

The velvety texture

of a young girl's skin.

You've got nerve!

You snooping around?

I'm catching insects.

Don't you go to school?

My dad says it's a waste of time.

I thought you were an orphan.

My brothers are at war,

my mom's dead, and my father may as well be.

- Who's your father? - The old man.

- What's your name? - Claude.

But people call me Coco.

I'm Andrée, but people call me Dédée.

Are you about done?

Yes, boss, I'm coming.

Are you pleased with your new model?

Her skin soaks up the light. You did well to send her.

The second I saw her, I knew she was a little Renoir.

You gave me three little Renoirs...

but with this blasted war, two of them are missing.

Jean...

My Jeannot...

What have they done to him?

Don't worry, he'll be all right.

Will they send him back alive?

In one piece?

Come on, it's the boss!

Shit, shit!

Shit!

Shit!

Not so fast!

If you want to help me,

do a good job.

Show me your brush.

That's not the right one.

I told you to use a flat brush.

Do you listen to me,

or don't you care?

Did you read the book of fables I gave you?

I haven't had time.

I exempted you from attending school,

but certainly not from studying.

Is that understood?

Is he gonna stay?

Coco, leave us alone. Go read your fables.

What about the canvases?

They can wait.

You're rather modest for an actress.

Actress doesn't mean whore.

Sit down.

I have a son who's an actor.

Pierre.

Really?

My eldest.

In the movies?

Thank heavens no.

He's a stage actor.

Though that's hardly better.

What do you mean?

It's not a real profession. One where you use your hands

to make something

that will last.

- It lasts in people's minds. - It's hot air.

In comparison to a chair...

a house...

a pair of shoes...

a plate...

Are you always like that?

- Like what? - Grumpy.

Not when I'm working.

And the third one?

Jean?

What does he do?

He dabbles.

He enlisted in the cavalry

on the eve of the war.

The poor boy.

He was wounded.

Gangrene to boot.

It's us...

old people, the infirm,

who they should send to the front.

In the mud and the trenches.

Get up and walk around a bit.

These are my dad's gloves. He can't wear them anymore.

Who's the kid here?

My brother Jean.

He's cute.

Not in person.

Is that you?

That's my big brother Pierre.

The actor?

This is you.

No, it's not me.

You sure?

I said it's not me!

Your mother was beautiful.

I don't know. I only remember her old and fat.

Show me your tits.

Are you nuts?

Show me.

Why should I show you?

You show them to the boss.

That's different. That's for art.

Yeah, right.

You'll end up in the old man's bed too.

Like my mother. Like all of them.

Jean!

Jeannot!

You're skin and bones.

Don't they feed you in the army?

Yes, but not at the hospital.

We'll fatten you up. Your father will be so happy!

Do you need some help?

No, I'll be fine.

Boss,

he's here!

Second Lieutenant!

Yeah.

Treat me with respect, rookie.

Are you all better?

If I was better, I'd still be fighting.

No, you'd be dead.

Coco...

Jean!

Well, well.

Is your wound serious?

It's healing well.

I'll have a limp for a while.