My name is Paloma.
I'm eleven.
I live at 2, Rue E. Manuel, Paris
in a rich person's apartment.
My parents are rich, my family is rich
and my sister and I are basically rich.
But, in spite of that,
in spite of all this luck and wealth,
for a long time now
I've known I'm heading for the fishbowl.
A world where adults bang like flies on the glass.
Paloma! Where are you?
Paloma?
Paloma! Where are you?
But I know one thing.
The fishbowl
isn't for me.
I've made my mind up.
At the end of the year,
the day I turn twelve,
on June 16th next,
in 165 days,
I'll kill myself.
Paloma! Where are you?
Planning to die doesn't mean
I let myself go like a rotten vegetable.
What matters isn't the fact of dying or when you die.
It's what you're doing at that precise moment.
In Taniguchi,
the heroes die while climbing Everest.
And my very own Everest
is making a film.
A film that shows why life is absurd.
The life of others and my own.
Paloma! Why do you hide like that?
If things have no meaning,
the mind must deal with that.
Paloma, your mother asked you a question.
Stop that camera.
Why do you hide, Paloma?
Right. I have to go.
Good morning, sir.
Jean-Pierre?
- Good morning, Mrs Michel. - Good morning, Jean-Pierre.
Go to the hostel, it's a cold day.
Go to the hostel yourself. I prefer it here.
Mother Michel has lost her cat
Shouting from her window to get it back...
You've grown!
Solange Josse.
I'll just get you a...
Upper-class mother
with close ties, for a decade now,
to psychoanalysis, anxiolytics,
anti-depressants and champagne.
You look lovely.
I'll give you a drop but that's all.
She is vaguely aware of her plants' decorative potential,
yet obstinately talks to them like people.
That's good. You'll look fabulous.
You'll be so pretty. And even taller than me!
I'm going.
Have a good day, Paloma!
Good morning, Paloma.
It's freezing outside.
- Good morning, miss. - Good morning
When I got there, I saw Pierre Arthens
lying with his hand on his chest.
Dead.
He'd been there two hours.
How awful!
When the heart goes, it's radical.
We were having tea this week.
We planned dinner too...
If we'd all called today,
he'd have suspected something.
Paloma, don't stay here, please. Go home.
Mother Michel!
Jean-Pierre...
Lost your cat?
Please, not now.
Paloma, the cat!
Paloma.
In Praise of Shadows
My God, here they come.
I can hear Anna.
Such a happy family...
Spend your life like a fish in a bowl...
and end up in a body bag.
The lift!
Mrs de Broglie, the lift's working again!
June 16th, June 15th...
May 14th, May 11th...
April 14th, April 13th...
June 16th.
In 165 days.
- Paloma's room. - Hello, young lady!
What a room!
More like Ali Baba's cave...
Coming with us?
Paul's study. He'll be here soon.
- Hi. - Hi.
No! No! no, no, no! No!
- Coming? - Just a second.
Can you prepare the tray?
Colombe Josse.
Archetype of the fish in the bowl theory.
Stop filming me!
Obsessed by the need to be less neurotic than her mother
and smarter than her father.
For her, life is a battle
in which you destroy others to win.
Paloma!
- Who's here? - Tib�re's parents.
Ah, yes.
It's terrible.
Can you imagine? Poor Pierre.
How awful.
You're fine, then your heart goes
and it's all over. Can you imagine?
- It's terrible. - Terrible.
Your heart goes pop and it's over in a trice.
No, Mum, you're not crying during dinner!
It's awkward for Tib�re's parents.
Did Manuela salt the tagine?
- I said not to. - You're sure?
His father has to be careful.
I salted the fruit salad.
What?
Saw you!
What did he die of?
Don't you ever listen to me?
It's funny you should say that.
When I was little,
I thought we got a number of words to say at birth
and that we'd be struck dumb once we used them up.
For me, mutes didn't get their allocation of words.
As I didn't know how many words I had,
I spoke as little as possible for ages to save them.
To get back to words,
I started therapy ten years ago
and it has changed my life.
Are you in therapy too?
I've never felt the need.
Everything's fine...
What about you? What led you to...
My father's death triggered it.
I'm convinced that taking the decision right then
was what saved me, in fact.
I remembered a dream
I had back then about losing my teeth.
They'd turn black and fall out one by one.
Do you know what my therapist said?
"Madam,
a Freudian would call it a dream of death."
Incredible, isn't it?
It's incredible.
Paul Josse.
Minister about to fall victim to a cabinet reshuffle.
A man occupied,
preoccupied and brilliant.
More focused on his career than his family but well-meaning,
despite being easily resigned.
Don't worry. The main course was enough.
I don't usually eat red meat but it was delicious!
- Are you sure? - Yes.
Thank you.
I didn't even cook it myself.
Excuse me, I'll be right back.
Paloma, I didn't give you my old camera
to fool around. Turn it off.
Sorry, an urgent call.
Lasker, the chess champion, once said,
"If there's intelligent life on Mars,
the inhabitants have invented go."
Discovered.
Discovered, invented... Lasker said it.
I see.
As I was saying, go is an extraordinary game.
It's a bit like the Japanese equivalent of chess.
Not true.
Another Japanese invention...
- Exactly. - That's not true.
The Chinese invented go, not the Japanese.
No, my dear girl, the Japanese invented go.
No, my dear sir, you're wrong.
- No... - It's not the equivalent of chess.
In chess, you kill to win.
One of the finest aspects of go
is you live to win
but also let your opponent live.
Paloma!
Life and death result from good or poor construction.
Paloma!
And what counts is good construction.
Stop pitching in.
Pursue the stars.
Don't end up as a fish in a bowl.
Tuesday, June 5th.
I'm slowly approaching June 16th.
And I'm not afraid.
When you decide to die
you feel that it has to be.
Like a tricky moment,
a gentle glide to rest.
Paloma!
Adults have trouble coming to terms with death,
even though nothing is more commonplace.
Paloma!
Take no chances with a decision
that could be misunderstood.
Certain people can quickly foil
your most cherished projects.
There you are! Get dressed, you'll be late!
You're here.
Meet Mr Kakuro Ochou, our new neighbour.
- Hello. - Madam...
- Will you show him around? - Yes.
- And give him a mailbox key? - Yes.
He's moving in tomorrow,
make sure the street door is open.
Yes.
Thank you.
Did you know the Arthens family well?
Wonderful people!
They were like any other family here.
Yes, a happy family.
All happy families are alike.
But each unhappy family is unique.
I have two cats.
- May I ask your cat's name? - Leo.
Goodbye.
Thank you, Mrs Michel.
.
"All happy families are alike.
"But each unhappy family is unique."
What came over me?
Why did I...
You're in a hurry!
After you.
Thank you.
This often happens.
Are you Paloma?
Yes.
I'm your new neighbour. My name's Kakuro Ozu.
Shouldn't you be at school by now?
Yes, but I forgot my bag.
Your mother says you study Japanese.
I know a little Japanese
but I'm not very gifted.
Shall I correct you?
Yes, please.
I'm not very gifted.
It's not "tifted" but "gifted".
I'm not very gifted.
Excellent! You're very gifted.
Very good.
Thank you, sir.
Call me Kakuro.
Thank you, Mr Kakuro.
I just met our janitor, Mrs Michel.
Do you know her well?
Not really, no.
An odd encounter, I must say.
You also think she has a secret?
Goodbye.
Hello, my darlings!
How's it going? Everything's fine.
Ochou... Ozu...
There, you look lovely!
Why are you hiding, Paloma?
I thought we got a number
of words to say at birth...
For me, mutes didn't get
their allocation of words.
To get back to words...
I remembered a dream I had back then
about losing my teeth.
They'd turn black and fall one by one.
Do you know what my therapist said?
"Madam,
"a Freudian would call it a dream of death."
Incredible, isn't it?
It's incredible...
- Hello. - Hello, Mrs Josse.
- Come in. - Thank you.
Since it's Wednesday, I supposed Paloma is here.
She is.
I'd like to see your daughter because we met yesterday
and had a very interesting conversation.
You're very lucky.
My daughter hardly ever speaks.
Paloma! Mr Ozu is here for you!
Come in!
I have some big news.
- He's hiring me. - Who?
Mr Ozu.
Twelve hours a week, paid a fortune.
Twelve hours? How will you manage?
I've dumped Mrs Josse.
I'll make white tea to celebrate.
He's paying 4 euros an hour more
and she left her panties lying around!
Maybe he leaves his briefs.
No, he's not like that.
He's knocked down a wall. It's beautiful.
His cats are beautiful too.
They're slim and walk like this, undulating.
You should come up and see the place when it's done.
What are they called?
- Who? - The cats.
The female is Kitty but I forget the male's name.
- Levin. - Yes, Levin!
How did you know?
Not that revolutionary, is it?
No, the revolutionary is Lenin.
Levin is the hero of a Russian novel.
Kitty is the woman he loves.
You should have seen Mrs Josse.
I had to tell her twice.
All she could say was, "What am I going to do?"
- She didn't ask why? - She didn't dare!
Fancy manners can be a handicap.
She never asked how she'd manage!
Ah, these rich people...
Damn them!
Welcome, Paloma!
I'm no more convinced than by mine,
but yours are more decorative.
Thank you.
What are yours called?
Constitution and Parliament.
You see what kind of family I come from?
Our cats are two fat sacks
of luxury pet food
that leave hair all over the couches.
I'm sure they have other qualities.
No.
I believe in the radiance and sensitivity of an oak.
So I necessarily believe in those of a cat.
- Concerning Mrs Michel's cat... - Leo?
Yes, Leo.
Something tells me he's named after Leo Tolstoy.
Why do you say that?
I also believe she's fond of ?
Mrs Michel reminds me of a hedgehog.
She's prickly on the outside, a real fortress...
But I feel that inside,
she's as refined as that falsely lethargic,
staunchly private and terribly elegant creature.
"Madam, in tribute to your cat.
Best wishes, Kakuro Ozu."
"I don't understand.
"The janitor."
"I can't read."
Nonsense!
Thank you. You shouldn't have.
The janitor.
I'm glad my parcel didn't upset you.
Well, it did... I mean... Thank you.
I'm not here so you can thank me.
You aren't?
Please come to dinner tomorrow.
Nothing too fancy.
Neighbourly?
But I'm the janitor!
One can have both qualities at once.
- You're Paloma? - Why do you say that?
I'm your new neighbour.
She's prickly on the outside
But on the inside she's as refined
as those falsely lethargic,
staunchly private and terribly elegant creatures.
We're all hedgehogs in life.
But often without elegance.
My new neighbour is Japanese.
This had to happen just before I die.
Leo.
Why? Tell me why!
What do you mean, why? It's good!
Are you joking?
Think practical now.
You can't go like that.
Your hair's not right.
When did you last get it done?
I've never had it done.
- I'll get it done. - What will you wear?
- My black dress. - The one you wore to the funeral?
- I only have one. - So buy another!
- It's only dinner. - I know.
But don't you dress up to go out?
I never go out.
There's no time to order a dress.
So? Don't you ever go to shops?
No, never.
I never go.
To try on clothes that won't fit
as some anorexic girl looks on?
Never!
All right.
I'll be back soon.
See you later.
June 7th.
I take a pill a week from Mum's box.
An excess of anxiolytics can be fatal.
165 days divided by 7.
That's 23.571 pills.
But a sudden dose of toxic products...
And since I took two when the box was full...
Other studies claim that there is no fatal dose.
I'll have at least 38 pills. Since I weigh 28 kilos,
that should be enough.
You'll look like a movie star.
I'm joking.
Where's it from?
I went to Maria's.
It's someone else's dress?
The lady won't come for it. She died last week.
Before the family realizes it's missing,
you can eat ten times with Mr Ozu.
I can't do that.
What can the poor woman do with it?
Try it on. You'll make me late.
You have a hair appointment at 11:45.
The new girl is wonderful.
I'll come back to see you at 4.
Who cut your hair like this?
Do you prefer hot water or lukewarm?
Hot?
Finished.
It's surprising.
(Paloma Josse, notes of math)
Damn this lift! It's always breaking down.
Oh, Paloma.
I'll be right back.
Thank you.
We have to get help.
Very elegant, Mrs Michel.
Yoko Ozu.
Granddaughter of Mr Kakuro Ozu.
The rich and only heir of a powerful Japanese family.
She will give up her studies
to marry a wealthy banker's son.
After three detox cures,
she will raise her four children
in a spotless home.
Yoko Ozu will end up divorced,
alcoholic, a billionaire and depressive.
And me?
Can my destiny be read on my face?
I want to die
because I believe that.
But is there a possibility
of becoming what you aren't yet?
Can I do something with my life
other than what I'm destined for?
No...
This is ridiculous...
Good evening.
- Come in. - Thank you.
Here.
Come along...
We'll eat in the kitchen.
In fact, I'll be cooking.
- It's very beautiful here. - Thank you.
Do you know Japanese cuisine?
No.
These are gyoza.
Could you tell me where the bathroom is, please?
Mrs Michel?
I can't open the door!
Maybe you're turning the lock the wrong way.
I was a bit surprised.
Mozart in the bathroom, that's...
I should have warned you.
It's a Japanese thing.
When you sit down, the music starts up.
Forgive me.
Some people jump to their deaths.
I find that ridiculous. I would hate to suffer.
Paloma!
After all, you want to die to end the suffering.
Only with my lawyer present.
Your lawyer?
Your lawyer...
It's not a courtroom. He's a psychoanalyst.
I can already see Dr Th��d
talking like a toothbrush salesman
to madam and her daughter.
"I'm very happy to see you both."
Paloma, you're a very intelligent girl
but you can be intelligent and helpless.
Very lucid and very unhappy.
Only psychoanalysis rivals religion
for love of suffering.
That's a tasty one.
That's Tib�re!
Let him in, Mum! I won't be long.
Why do you say that?
My mother wants to break out the champagne
to celebrate ten years in therapy!
Well, yes.
Yes. That's good, isn't it?
No.
She's been on anti-depressants for ten years too.
But she doesn't see the link...
between ten years in therapy,
her love of her plants
and her mass consumption
of prescription drugs.
Do you want some?
No, I'm joking.
These are ramen noodles.
It's a soup of Chinese origin.
You dip the gyoza in this sauce.
Tell me if you like it.
- Enjoy. - Thank you.
In Japan, we make noise eating ramen.
Too bad about the collateral damage.
Sorry about your dress.
It's not my dress!
I borrowed it.
I live alone and I never go out.
I may be a bit unsociable.
Unsociable but very civilized.
You shouldn't have offered me
those beautiful volumes.
Were you pleased?
Yes, I was pleased, but a little startled too.
I try to be discreet. I don't want problems.
No one wants a pretentious janitor.
You're not pretentious.
You're just curious.
Even dining here with you is inconceivable.
Yet you're dining here.
And I'm very honoured.
Hubert Josse.
Born nine and a half years ago in a pond on a goldfish farm.
Hubert will live and die in this bowl,
except for weekly excursions to the kitchen sink
while the cleaner changes his water
so he won't suffocate on his own waste.
- The mountains of Kyoto... - What?
The mountains of Kyoto are the colour of adzuki.
That's from a film.
I saw it long ago.
I have it on tape.
Would you like to watch it with me?
Do you have a video player?
Yes.
Would Saturday suit you?
All right.
We'll watch it at teatime and I'll bring cakes.
It's a deal.
See you on Saturday then.
- Ren�e! - Yes?
By the way, I wanted to ask...
Are you related to him?
To Mr Ozu. The director, I mean.
No, not at all.
You're disappointed?
No, not at all.
Oh, yes. OK! OK!
Yes. Yes.
- You got stuck in traffic? - It's 7:30.
Yes, I know.
- The lodge opens at 8. - You have opening times?
Yes!
- Well, now I'm here... - Come back later.
Paloma!
I can't find her.
That bitch of a janitor has got a nerve!
What's wrong?
She slammed her door in my face, saying she starts at 8.
Old bat!
You can't disturb her when you want.
The fat cow can make an exception for once!
Colombe dear...
Enough!
The lodge isn't a sanctuary
from social progress or wage laws!
Period!
Precisely.
It's true, just because... Paloma!
I don't want you filming me!
Paloma!
What are you... Don't move!
Tell me what happened to Hubert!
Turn it off! I don't want to be filmed!
Paloma!
Where's my goldfish?
I woke up hungry in the night.
I went to get a yoghurt.
Hubert was floating in his bowl.
Where is he?
- In the toilet. - That's sick.
He was dead.
You're an intolerant and depressive little person
who hates others, Paloma.
Given the situation, I think you owe me a favour.
Do a deal.
Hold on a second...
I'll see Mrs Michel.
- If you let me film you. - No.
Just until my birthday, I promise.
- How long? - Nine days.
- Three. - I won't go then.
Ok, nine days.
Tell that old cow to bring up my package
as soon as it arrives.
- Good morning. - Hello, Mrs Michel.
My sister Colombe is expecting a very important delivery.
Very well.
- Could you bring it up? - All right.
Would...
Would you like cocoa?
Come in.
I was just having some tea.
I prefer tea. Do you mind?
No, not at all.
Sit down.
My sister is expecting corrections
for her thesis on Guillaume d'Ockham,
a 14th century Franciscan friar.
- Ah, yes. - Yes.
Well, it's given us the chance to get acquainted.
Can I come back?
If you want but there's not a lot to do here.
I just want some peace.
Can't you get that in your room?
I used to hide.
But they always find me now.
- Well? - Well...
Come back later.
All right, as usual.
See you later. Goodbye, Paloma.
Goodbye.
I'm disturbed all the time too.
This is no place to come for peace.
People come for you, not for me.
All right,
but we'll have to ask your mother.
May I?
- It's dark chocolate. - I noticed. Thank you.
What's so nice about chocolate?
The substance itself
or the crunch of your teeth on it?
I prefer to let it melt slowly on my tongue.
You're right.
Changing the way you bite into it...
makes it something new.
You should be getting home.
Your parents will worry.
You're not an ordinary janitor.
You've found the ideal hiding place.
I'll go!
- Ah, good morning. - Good morning.
The delivery for your daughter.
Just a second...
Paloma is an eccentric little girl.
I mean, she's a little...
odd.
She's very kind.
Yes, but she loves to hide, for instance.
- Yes, she told me. - She told you?
She told you...
Anyway, she'd like to come to your lodge now and then.
If you don't mind.
No, I don't mind.
That way, at least, I...
Mind the cat!
I wanted to say...
Don't let the cat out.
Don't let the janitor in.
Mind if I film you?
Yes.
- You're going out? - Yes.
May I come with you?
Yes.
Careful!
I don't know what I can do.
Staining a dress like this...
Didn't Manuela warn you?
She did.
I'll see if my husband can help.
You get told off for making stains too.
Yes.
Can I come this afternoon?
Go on.
What can I say?
Talk about yourself.
"Talk about yourself..."
I'm listening.
I know you are. You're filming me too!
My name's Ren�e, I'm 54.
I've been a janitor for 27 years here in Paris
in a building with five luxury apartments,
all occupied, all huge...
"Talk about yourself..."
I'm a widow.
I'm short, ugly and overweight.
I have bunions and,
some mornings when I wake,
breath like a mammoth!
I've never studied,
I've always been poor,
discreet and insignificant.
I live alone with a fat, lazy tomcat...
who, rather unusually,
gets sweaty paws
when he's annoyed.
I'm rarely amiable but always polite.
People don't like me
but tolerate me
because I correspond
to the archetype of a building's janitor:
ugly, old and surly,
always glued to her TV while her fat cat dozes
on cushions covered
with crocheted cases
in a stink of bean stew.
There, you know everything now.
No, not everything.
Yes, you do, everything.
What do you hide behind that door?
Are those cakes?
A surprise delivery.
Why did you remove the flowers?
Mrs de Broglie, this is the first floor.
You live on the third floor.
Hello, Ren�e.
You weren't joking. My mouth is watering.
You can thank Manuela.
The third door on the right.
No wonder you smiled
when I asked if you had a video player.
- Are you ready? - I'm ready.
Here we go then.
You've found the ideal hiding place.
Tell me, Marika...
Why are the Kyoto mountains violet?
That's true.
They're the colour of adzuki.
It's a pretty colour.
She was my wife.
She died of cancer ten years ago.
Her name was Sanae.
She was...
a very beautiful woman.
Yes. Very beautiful.
And you? I don't even know if...
I never managed to have children.
I've been a widow 15 years.
His name was Lucien. Cancer too.
I didn't know.
No, you didn't know. No one told you.
Lucien's illness didn't matter here.
Pierre Arthens' death is a tragedy
but the death of a janitor...
It's just a dip in the daily routine.
Good night, Ren�e.
Good night, Kakuro.
It was fantastic day.
You stupid fool!
What were you thinking?
You're just a hideous janitor,
that's all.
You mad old cow...
You're not filming me?
It's Sunday. Taking the day off?
Watch this...
I'm going to varnish my big toenail.
When I grow up,
I want to be a janitor.
Wonderful idea, dear.
If we can do anything to assist you,
we're here to help, aren't we?
Exactly.
When I grow up, I want to be a janitor.
No, I don't think so. You'll be a princess.
I want to be a janitor.
- Hello, young lady. - Hello.
Maybe I'll come back later.
If you want.
Are you well? - Yes.
Will you have dinner with me?
I'd like to take you to a restaurant I'm fond of.
A restaurant?
It's my birthday
and I'd like to celebrate it with you.
I'm sorry. I don't think it's a good idea.
- Why not? - It's very kind and I'm grateful
but I'd rather not.
I don't understand.
It's for the best.
Believe me. Goodbye.
What are you up to?
Nothing at all.
You're busy tonight?
No, that's not why...
Why then?
I don't think it's a good idea.
Why not?
Do I know why not? I don't know...
Oh, my God, Paloma...
I don't want you seeing me like this!
I'm so stupid!
Don't say that, Mrs Michel.
Don't say that.
Don't say that, Mrs Michel.
Don't say that.
Dear
Kakuro...
If you haven't
changed your mind,
I would be happy
to have dinner
with you tonight.
All the best,
Ren�e.
"Dear Ren�e, Please accept these few simple gifts.
"All the best. Kakuro."
- You look wonderful! - Thank you.
You too, you're very elegant.
Thank you.
Good evening, Mr Ochou.
Good evening, madam.
Goodbye, madam.
She didn't recognize me.
Because she's never seen you before.
Happy birthday then.
Thank you very much.
You know, I have to tell you...
I haven't bought you anything.
Nothing at all?
No.
I knew you'd be wise enough not to buy me anything.
- Enjoy your meal. - Thank you.
Is this octopus?
Yes, as sashimi.
And this too...
is octopus.
Ren�e...
I'm very happy you decided
to come tonight after all.
- I'm sorry about that... - Don't be.
Ren�e,
I wanted to tell you something important.
Ren�e,
we can be friends and whatever we want.
Ren�e,
we can be friends and whatever we want.
Thank you.
"All happy families are alike."
"But each unhappy family is unique."
Jean-Pierre!
You're in the middle of the street!
Mother Michel! Lost your cat?
Don't stay there!
If I could, I'd laugh.
But I'm thinking of Manuela.
She'll blame herself forever
that the dry cleaning van ran me down.
It's punishment for taking the dress.
Neptune...
It's silly, I still feel like laughing.
I suppose death makes us a little crazy.
Kakuro...
My heart is as tight as a kitten curled up in a ball.
I'd love one last glass of sak� with you.
How can you determine a life's value?
Paloma,
may yours fulfil the promise you show.
What's wrong?
Ren�e is dead.
Who's Ren�e?
Mrs Michel.
Paloma?
Paloma, what's wrong?
Telling Manuela was awful.
When she heard it was that van,
she fainted.
Heart-breaking.
Paloma.
All she said was,
"Forgive me, Ren�e..."
So that's it.
Everything stops all of a sudden.
Is that what dying is?
You no longer see those you love,
you no longer see those who love you.
If that's what dying is,
it really is as tragic as people say.
What was this goldfish doing here?
If this has any meaning,
it escapes me entirely.
What matters isn't the fact of dying
but what you're doing when you die.
Ren�e,
what were you doing at the moment you died?
You were ready to love.