The Lover (L'Amant) (L'Amant)

Very early in my life it was too late.

At 18, it was already too late.

At 18, I aged.

This aging was brutal.

This aging, I saw it spread over my features...

one by one.

Instead of being frightened by it...

I saw this aging of my face...

with the same sort of interest...

I might have taken, for example...

in the reading of a book.

That new face, I kept it.

It's kept the same contours...

but its matter is destroyed.

I have a destroyed face.

Let me tell you again.

I'm 15 1/2.

It's the crossing of a ferry on the Mekong.

Look at me.

I'm 15 1/2.

It's the crossing of the river.

When I go back to Saigon...

it's as though I'm on a journey...

especially when I take the bus.

That day, it's the end of the school holidays.

I don't remember which one.

I went to spend it in Sa-Dec with my two brothers...

in my mother's tight house...

behind the bush school...

in the horror of the Sa-Dec house.

The big pieces are mine.

Why yours?

Because that's the way it is.

I wish you'd die.

Paul?

Paulo?

Paul, come to bed.

You mustn't be afraid anymore.

Not of Pierre, not of anything.

Never again, you know.

Never again.

He came back?

I see him on the balcony...

sleeping in the night outside...

doesn't want to go to his room.

He's too scared of Pierre.

Me, it's when he's outside that I'm afraid.

I'm afraid he'll leave like that.

He'll get lost.

It can happen with that kind of child.

That's not true.

You're not afraid for Paul.

You're only afraid for Pierre.

Why is it that you love him so much...

and not us... never?

I love all three of my children the same.

That's not true. It's not true!

Answer! Why is it that you love him so much...

and not us?

I don't know why.

Yesterday...

I wrote to Saigon...

to ask for Pierre's repatriation.

What?

I'm sending him back to France.

You're happy?

He stole at the opium den again.

I can't pay any longer.

It's over.

It's not possible anymore.

Mom, hurry up, or I'll miss the bus.

Bye, Paulo.

Take care.

Yes, Mom.

When are you coming back?

For Mardi Gras. I already told you.

Oh. I forgot.

So that day...

I'm going back to Saigon.

I'm wearing my cabaret shoes and my man's hat.

No woman, no young girl wears a man's fedora...

in that colony in those days.

No native woman, either.

That hat, I never leave it.

I have that, this hat.

That all by itself makes me whole.

I'm never without it.

So it's the crossing...

of one of the branches of the Mekong...

on the ferry that's between Vinh Long and Sa-Dec...

in the great plains of mud and rice...

of southern Indochina...

the plain of the birds.

Excuse me, mademoiselle. Do you smoke?

No, thank you.

I'm sorry.

It's so surprising...

a young white girl on a native bus.

I like your hat. It's original...

a man's hat on a young girl.

And you're pretty.

You can do anything you like.

You're who?

- I live in Vinh Long. - Where in Vinh Long?

On the river just outside. The big house with the terraces.

The blue stone one?

Yes.

It's a Chinese house.

I am Chinese.

Chinese.

He's from that financial minority...

that owns all the popular housing of the colony.

He's back from Paris...

where he undertook some business studies.

He's the one...

who was crossing the Mekong that day...

towards Saigon.

If you want, I can drive you to Saigon.

Do you know her?

She's the administrator's wife...

Mrs. Stretter, Anne-Marie.

Do you want one?

Yes, thank you.

Is it true, that story about the young man...

who killed himself for her?

Don't know.

Yes, it's true.

On the marketplace at Louang Prabang...

the day she left.

He was her lover.

The smoke doesn't bother you?

I mean, in here?

No, not at all.

You're at Saigon High School?

Yes, but I sleep elsewhere...

at the Lyautey Boardinghouse.

Do you like studying?

Yes. I find it interesting.

What grade are you in?

11th.

And you're...

uh... 17.

And you?

32...

and jobless.

And Chinese, what's more.

What's more... yes.

You look so beautiful when you say that.

Since my mother's death, my father has lived on his cot.

He never leaves his opium pipe...

and he nearly doesn't eat anymore.

I never guessed the depth of their fondness.

There it's been 10 years...

that's he's taken care of his business like that...

from his bed.

He stares at the river, you see.

I see.

Yes, I miss Paris...

the parties,

the evenings in Montparnasse...

the coupole.

Do you know the coupole?

I went to France once.

It was in the north, near the Belgian border.

I only know here... the Mekong, Saigon.

You like Saigon?

Yes, I like Saigon.

I like Saigon, too. Cholon above all.

Cholon, it's like China.

That's it. It's here.

Good-bye.

You got here earlier than usual.

I met someone on the ferry. He drove me here.

A Chinaman.

Helene is the only other white girl...

in the boardinghouse.

Helene, she is immodest.

She doesn't realize.

She walks naked in the dormitory.

She doesn't know that she's very beautiful.

She's innocent...

lingering on in youth.

Hey, I forgot to tell you something.

There's a girl...

the assistant mistresses found her...

she was a prostitute every evening...

behind the wall.

Nobody noticed anything.

- Who? - Alice.

Alice? Who's she going with like that?

Anybody, people walking by.

It's always appealed to me.

What?

To go with men you don't know.

You don't even see them. Nothing.

You'll never know their face.

Do you think we're all like that?

Yes. The assistant mistresses, too.

Every woman.

Actually, I'd rather be a prostitute...