Whatever Happened to My Revolution

I can see myself at 13 or so entering the kitchen

to tell Dad, as he did the dishes,

"I want to invent ideas to change the world."

Then I told him,

"I'd like to improve people's lives by applying those ideas."

This is a bus lane, dammit!

Sorry.

And as the city

is ideal for people to meet...

No bikes on the sidewalk, shit!

...talk, clash,

exchange and make unexpected connections,

I became an urban planner.

Thank you. Have a good day.

That way, on a daily basis, I can fight for spaces

where people can be together.

Not just icy esplanades for so-called conviviality

with "relaxation areas" or "audacious greening".

It's hard putting theory into practice.

But I see urban planning as a political struggle.

A total commitment since forever.

The silent Prozac generation

Know what the Prozac generation says?

There!

We've always been open, Angèle, without taboos.

Today, given the current situation,

we can't pay a second salary.

We'll get an intern.

We call them job trainees now.

The costs are too high.

Social contributions, Annabelle, not the costs.

We help society...

Angèle, start by taking some time off,

then become self-employed.

As a challenge.

I think that kind of flexibility can be positive.

Right?

Yes, that can be good too.

You'll see, very nice.

Venice?

No, it can be very nice, Angèle, very nice.

I thought you meant I could see Venice.

As I've never been.

I'm really sorry.

That's today's world.

- Your Volluto, Vincent. - Thanks, Henriette.

- With sweetener? - Yes.

My boss, Vincent, used to be my teacher.

He'd never say, "That's today's world."

He always said emphatically, "We make the world."

You kids are unlucky.

It was different in our day.

Jobs were easy to find.

We were into "us".

You can't understand.

We put the tractor on auto-pilot and read poems.

We saw the world differently.

We opened up everything we could to let the world in.

Everything wide open!

The window right in your mug!

I smash it right in!

What an amazing time!

You were born too late!

The prospects are poor, but we'll pass the torch.

Kids today are a bit wet. They're nice,

but not like we were.

Over to you. We're old now

but we're not leaving our cushy jobs!

We'll keep building identical malls and shitty centres

to pay for the summer home.

The main thing is to keep standing, fist raised!

Like back then!

Your refusal to age is obscene.

Meaning?

You remind me

of Michael Jackson, both of you.

Angèle, calm down.

You devoured us. Were we tasty?

Try working out why our generation's key figure is the paedophile!

- The paedophile! - There's a link!

You're ogres!

Why not Sylvain's?

- It's over. - Really?

He suggested living together, but I've no time.

No time?

You realize society is made of human relations?

You can stay with me.

Not with all your gear.

I can curtain off an area.

- You're sweet. - A few days?

No, it's okay. Simon and I are on the same wavelength.

There's no endless analysing.

Stop us here.

Simon and I understand each other.

He has always lived out his convictions,

with strong political ideas he has never betrayed.

At 16, he joined the Communist Party.

In May '68, he joined the Maoists to campaign with the workers.

He has stood his ground since,

rejecting both comfort

and despair.

- Hi, kiddo. - Hi, Dad.

Seen how they cheat you out of rillettes?

Rillettes too...

The assholes.

Stop eating bread, I'm making socca.

It's the same price too.

A poor man's dish, nothing but chickpeas.

20 euros in Nice.

And here?

Bargain price, two euros. One for the group, one for me.

It's a good margin, given the costs.

Great. Turn self-employed.

Women United must love having a guy on the stand.

- Any young ones? - Old young ones.

Hi, Dad.

Hi, sweetheart.

- Okay? - Fine.

I got a shower curtain with a right-angled rod.

Dinner?

- Want a shower curtain? - No, they stick.

Angèle, he needs one.

Want some socca?

Angèle, bring the sucker cups.

We'll put this here.

Jesus...

This way, you can put your things here.

Look. I got you this.

It's only temporary.

Maybe, but I don't have a salary.

- Coming to the spa Saturday? - No.

It could help.

I'm not depressed.

I'm not so sure.

Noutka, being fired by left-wing bosses makes me mad.

It's more than a bad hair day.

I'll make alphabet pasta.

I've found a Mongol yurt for the winter group.

A bonding project: three days of snowshoes and raw meat.

Great.

Stéphane said they're hiring at the call centre.

- Saying that for me? - Yes.

I work already. On my own. I do tenders.

Maybe, but be pragmatic.

- A machine won't give me orders. - I understand.

C'mon, work isn't just fun. Face it.

- Why? - Get real.

- Why? - You know why.

No, I don't.

- It's normal to work. - Normal? Why?

Where has Dad's rejection of the system got him?

It needs a lot of salt.

Why is it normal?

Why? Why? Grow up a bit, Angèle!

You're like some kindergarten kid in a crappy nappy.

- Why? - Why what?

Why do we make certain life choices?

Can't we ask why?

No, not anymore.

Why?

- Come on. - That bit's mine!

Share and share alike.

Dad, look what you're doing!

What do you want? We've done the rent, power...

You pay this by monthly debit.

Okay...

There's still this. What's left?

The pastries for the Yiddish choir are ready.

- That'll bring in 120. - Do estimates.

Okay.

And, at the association fair, I made 80.

That makes 200.

Will 300 euros do?

Yes.

It's hard for her, being back.

It won't help her socialize.

I think it's good.

Bye.

It's Mom's birthday soon.

She'd like to see you.

And?

Didn't she write to you?

Okay, I'm off.

May I have this dance?

Your sister seemed tense.

She's fine, don't worry.

When we ate as a family, a rare occurrence,

Diane, my mother, would laugh and say

we were playing at being a family.

She preferred fundamental things

and those were the revolution and Marxism.

Like my father,

Diane truly hoped the world would change.

Even after '68, after '81 and its disappointments,

even after McDonald's arrived in East Berlin.

But, in 1997, she just gave up.

When the Socialist government launched unprecedented privatizations,

she gave it all up.

She couldn't keep on fighting

and so she left.