The New Look

A toast.

To Paris!

Free once again!

May our city witness no more sorrow, harbor no more enemies--

And hear no more fucking German.

- Darling. - You started without me.

We knew if we popped champagne, you'd appear. And here you are!

You're stunning. And your hair, I love it.

Oh, the director asked me to grow it out.

It's perfect for the role.

I want you to meet my nephew André.

André.

Oh, my goodness. Mademoiselle.

Coco has spoken of how you survived the horrors of that German prison.

You're a hero.

- Look, he's blushing. -

And this is his brilliant friend from their Cambridge days, Oscar Davies.

My mum would die for an autograph.

Oscar and I have, uh, seen Hôtel du Nord more times than I would like to admit.

- - You never said he was so handsome.

Mm-hmm. Hey, don't even think about it.

- He's all mine. -

Besides, don't you have a German boyfriend?

You dated a German?

Boys, never forget.

My heart is French, but my ass is international.

Enough chitchat.

André, be a dear and show me how a real war hero commands the dance floor.

- -

Get down.

I heard de Gaulle was going to celebrate with fireworks, but this is a bit much.

Ignorant bullets fired by drunken men.

- You think we're safe? - Of course we are!

The rich and sexy always come out on top!

Come on, more champagne!

I see you, my children.

All of you are my children tonight.

In this house.

In this room.

We are left dreaming after the war.

After so much death and destruction.

Across the great river of darkness,

the great unknown awaits us all.

And in that void, spirits are calling out.

We have all seen this darkness.

It has consumed our lives.

Catherine!

Catherine!

It has consumed our loved ones.

Tonight we will excise this poison.

We will shine a light where there has been none for too, too long.

We will do this through the tarot.

But who would be the first?

Who would like to begin our journey across the river?

Me.

- Please. -

Coco, open the door.

- Who's that? - Arletty.

I didn't know where else to go. You have to help me.

There was a mob of people in front of my apartment calling my name.

- You have to hide me, Coco. - Was it a nightmare?

No! I was just on my way home,

and they had actual rocks and weapons, calling for my head to shave it.

Thank God I wasn't there. You have to hide me, Coco.

I'll make a call. We'll-- We'll get you a room.

They can't possibly get you here.

You don't understand. They're shooting into apartments.

The FFIs are much worse than the Germans. They'll kill me.

No, they will do no such thing.

Nazis pressured me for years

to star in their crazy propaganda movies, and I refused.

I know you did.

I'm no traitor.

I fell in love.

I understand.

Now, Coco, the press are spreading accusations.

Smearing me as a horizontal collaborator.

Coco, people need to be reminded that I was in love.

Love.

I'm not a traitor for just being human.

- -

Catherine!

Catherine!

Pardon.

I noticed you didn't have a reading, Monsieur--

- Uh-huh. - Monsieur...

Dior. Dior.

We are all deserving, Monsieur Dior.

Why do you feel differently?

I just, uh-- I have, um, somewhere that I have to go. That's all.

Pardon .

Monsieur Dior.

May I ask you a question?

What do you desire most in this world?

What I desire most in this world, I cannot have.

- - We shall see.

Someone you love is trapped.

I see a child with you.

Do you have a child?

No.

You're holding a child.

An infant.

I don't have a child.

I must go.

If you want to finish another time...

you can find me here.

A pleasant good morning to you.

Oh, I'm afraid it's rather early for mademoiselle.

She's still, uh, taking her breakfast.

This can't be true.

I thought Arletty was joking about her German lover.

Don't believe a word of what's written.

How could she be so stupid? She's a public figure.

We can't trust anyone.

- Yes. - Baron Vaufreland being arrested.

I'm still completely in-- in shock at that.

Oh, quite-- quite clear.

I never guessed how involved he was with the Nazis.

But I must insist that you wait--

Hello?

Mademoiselle, uh, some men are coming.

Hmm. I've yet to finish eating, and I'd like to have a noisette as well.

But they're officers from the French Forces of the Interior.

They can wait.

- Stop! - Get out of the way!

Mademoiselle Chanel,

you are under arrest on suspicion of collaboration with the Nazis.

- - That's a lie.

I'd advise you to speak with... ...General Pierre Reverdy.

He can't possibly have authorized this intrusion.

The French Forces of the Interior are not under his command.

We serve Charles de Gaulle.

Do not make a scene.

What scene would I make?

Don't touch her!

Okay. Okay.

Darling, no need for theatrics.

Have a seat. I won't be long. Don't worry.

- - The car is waiting.

Vive la France! Vive la France!

Traitors!

- Get them! -

Shame on you!

What in heaven's name is going on out there?

Hey, look. There's another one!

- Help me! Help! - Come here.

- - Move, move!

This is what you get for consorting with the enemy.

- Oh, my God. - Shame on you! Shame on you!

They are all women.

- Sleeping with the enemy. - That's what you get!

- Traitor! - Oh, my God.

- - Justice for the collaborators.

Christian, may I come in?

I have something to show you that's sure to elevate your spirits

and bring a smile to your face.

Lucien, I'm-- I'm really in-in the--

Because of the high esteem in which I hold you

and the great respect that I have for you and for your talent,

I want you to be the very first to see this.

And would you join me at the Couture Council?

We have a bit of convincing to do.

Okay. It's a joke.

No, it's not a joke.

It is the future of French fashion.

Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention,

I would like to thank you all for coming here on short notice

and agreeing to hear my proposal.

Each of us will design a dress in miniature

which will adorn these mannequins in the place of the actual models.

- You want us to design dresses for dolls? -

I know you're all saying to yourselves, "Is this absolute madness?"

Since we all know the Nazis destroyed every inch of fabric,

burning down every warehouse they could find,

we don't have enough materials for each of us to produce our individual collections.

At present, there isn't enough fabric in the whole of France

to ensure the survival of a single couture house.

These miniature forms require less fabric,

less accoutrement, less expense, less everything.

I have booked the main exhibition hall at Le Louvre.

Sets will be built. Street scenes, salons.

But we only have two weeks to bring it to life.

If we can work together and do one show,

we may give ourselves a chance to survive.

Lucien, people will never go to the Louvre to see some, uh, silly dolls.

But they won't just be seeing silly dolls.

They will be seeing themselves,

Paris returning to life, people walking down the Champs-Élysées.

An exhibition of hope.

It is possible.

Vive la France!

We are desperate for a solution.

This might help us continue working.

Cocteau and Bérard have graciously agreed to design the sets for us.

In exchange for a rare bottle of Armagnac.

It's utterly bizarre, but since when isn't bizarre glorious?

What about including Mademoiselle Chanel?

- - Never.

No, no. Listen. She hasn't designed for so long.

If she makes something, more people will come.