Bohemian Life (La vie de bohème) (La Vie de Bohème)

Based on the Novel by HENRI MURGER

Shit!

Did I hurt myself?

My God - blood!

- Everything okay, Marcel? - No.

What do you think, with the middle of my face smashed in?

Red wine.

These glasses are smaller than a drunkard's dreams.

- Any luck with the publisher? - No, the swine!

He said it was too long and demanded cuts,

but with no promises and no advance - the lout!

- Why not let me read it? - You?

Yes, me.

You can read?

Are you kidding?

I finished third grade in Mongéo before coming to Paris.

I'll read it at bedtime.

Why not?

You'll give me the people's appraisal

and put the publishers to shame.

The Avenger - A Play in 21 Acts by Marcel Marx

EVICTION NOTICE

Good morning, Monsieur Marcel.

Have you forgotten that today is the eighth?

Already? How time rushes on!

You're a bit slow in vacating the premises.

It's already 11:30.

The new tenant may arrive at any moment.

Allow me to find a moving van.

By all means!

But there's one little formality to see to first:

your three months' back rent.

Would you mind? - Of course not.

Then kindly step into my office, so I may give you a receipt.

- When I return. - Why not now?

I must go to the bank. I don't carry a sum like that on me.

I see. No cash.

Then allow me to relieve you of that little burden

so it doesn't tire you.

You think I'd carry off my belongings in a bag?

Those are the rules.

You're not to remove so much as a single hair until the rent is paid.

There's no hair in here,

just shirts I'm taking to the laundry

next door to the bank, just steps from here.

Please do not misunderstand me,

but certain unfortunate experiences

have shattered my faith in tenants.

Hugo had best accompany you to the bank.

See this man?

He's been casing this bank for three days.

I live across the street.

His accomplice is around the corner in an Alfa Romeo,

reading Le Monde - upside down.

I only wish to do my duty.

My life's savings are in this bank.

What do you suppose is in his bag?

Has my apartment been vacated?

Not yet, Monsieur Schaunard, but very soon.

The previous tenant, a writer, has gone to get a moving van.

In the meantime, you may leave your furniture outside.

I'm afraid. If it rains, my furniture will be damaged.

You will forgive me if I ask your profession.

You neglected to indicate that on the lease.

Leave the piano here and return at once to my old lodgings

for the rest of my priceless furnishings

and works of art.

Henri, from the Ministry of War. It just arrived by courier.

The Ministry of War.

It must be the pension

that I've been waiting for all these years.

At last some recognition of my achievements.

Dear Monsieur Bernard, courtesy demands that I inform you

of the unfortunate predicament I find myself in

that prevents me at this time from observing the custom

requiring that rent be paid, especially when it's due.

Until this morning I had hoped

to honor this lo very day by paying my rent - ah, delusion!

As I slept cradled in false certainty, misfortune -

Ananke in Greek - dashed my hopes.

Certain sizable sums I expected did not materialize,

but our beautiful France and I will see better days - have no doubt of that.

The moment we do, I shall hasten to inform you of it

and to remove from my lodgings my precious possessions,

which I leave to your safekeeping and to that of the law,

which restrains you from selling them for one year.

Until then you are at liberty to use

the luxurious lodgings in which I have resided.

In affirmation of my consent, I hereby affix my signature.

Marcel Marx.

- Two half orders of trout. - Yes, sir.

That's a strange order.

On the contrary.

This method yields on average

a quarter more than ordering a full portion.

Where is my order?

I'm afraid this gentleman got the last trout.

May I invite you to partake of this course with me?

I would not deprive you of what is yours, sir.

Then you'd deprive me of the pleasure of expressing my goodwill?

In that case, sir...

Permit me to refrain from serving you the head.

That I couldn't allow.

For if the head is man's noblest appendage,

it's the most unpleasant part of a trout.

Two heads! This trout is bicephalic,

a word which comes from the Greek

and means...

precisely that.

Nevertheless, I harbor no regrets about eating this phenomenon.

The sauce was delicious.

True.

It was prepared in the province of Béarn,

and its fine reputation is richly deserved.

You seem very learned. You're not from here?

No.

I come from Albania

and have lived in Paris only three years now.

Yet you've already mastered our language.

My nursemaid was French, from Barcelona.

My name is Rodolfo,

and I'm a painter.

Marcel Marx, writer.

May I offer you a bottle of wine?

Only on one condition:

that I see to the coffee and the rest.

As a painter, don't you think

that Malevich's Black Square

is as lethal a blow to painting

as the school of Vienna -

Schoenberg, Berg, Webern, and the rest - is to music?

- I agree entirely. - Let's go.

I live just around the corner.

We may continue our discussion there.

“I floated down impassive rivers,

unguided now by bargemen's hands.

Howling natives had hauled them up for targets

and nailed them naked to painted stakes.”

Beautiful stuff, Rimbaud.

He and Verlaine argued vehemently about -

Anyway, come inside.

This is where I live.

Strange. The key's in the lock,

though I put it in my pocket this morning -

where it remains even now.

It's witchcraft! Two keys.

Someone's playing the violin. These aren't my lodgings.

May I help you?

I was mistaken. This isn't my apartment.

I beg your pardon on my friend's behalf.

He's exceptionally drunk.

Wait, this is my place.

That's my finery!

And what's this?

My Turkish slippers,

given to me by beloved hands!

“Marcel Marx is hereby obligated to vacate the premises

by noon on February eighth...”

Am I not the Marcel Marx

whom the landlord evicted?

The situation is as follows.

By law

the premises are mine,

for you were evicted, and I paid in advance.

Yes, for the premises, but not the furnishings.

If I pay up, I may remove them legally -

or even illegally, if it were possible.

Thus you have furnishings but no lodgings,

and I have lodgings but no furniture. - Precisely.

I like the apartment.

And I've never liked it more. - Pardon?

Never as much as now, and I know what I'm saying.

What do you say we lubricate this explanation?

What an amazing pipe you have.

I have an even more handsome one for use in high society.

Would you care to try it? - With pleasure.

You appear to be a man of musical bent.

A composer.

I'm writing a piece called

“The Influence of Blue on the Arts.”

- I can't see anyone just now. - Why not?

Good morning.

Good morning, mademoiselle.

- There's my answer. - I understand.

All the same, perhaps you might lend me 1,000 francs.

I'm all out of paint,

and I can't complete my masterpiece.

You're asking a lot. I'm broke at the moment.

Couldn't you borrow it from the girl?

I couldn't do that. We just met yesterday.

- And Schaunard? - No one's seen him all week.

Good-bye.

Where are you going?

To your place...

to collect what you owe me.

You won't find me at home.

I can't pay you back today. I'm waiting for a girl.

But you can pawn my ring.

There she is.

Beat it.