Camille Claudel Page #5

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Socializing instead of

putting your hand in clay?

Driving your workers on marble...

while you add the finishing touches!

As an artist,

I refuse your system!

Stop this gossip! Slander!

Stop confusing everything!

Confusing!

You're confused!

Supporting political hacks...

...so they'll defend your work!

I'm neither for

nor against Dreyfus!

If only you believed

in either side...

When I heard

you were pro-Dreyfus...

just for your personal gains...

...for your Balzac...

...so you could finally exhibit,

then I turned against Dreyfus!

That's enough!

Stop.

It's ridiculous!

Such a waste!

When I met you, you were...

...for me, the most

desirable woman in the world.

You, who are a sculptor!

You caressed my naked stomach...

...and didn't even realize

it had changed.

Had I known you expected a child

I'd have married you.

For years...you didn't want...

You never wanted to choose...

You never decided anything.

I never loved anyone but you.

I couldn't share you.

It was a struggle for me.

What should I tell you?

You made a mistake, that's all.

It's finished.

I don't want any more

complicated emotions...

...the tyranny of feelings.

I can't anymore.

On your deathbed

you'll still hesitate!

Why?

There's nothing left.

Yes, but...

What will you do?

I need the money.

You're crazy!

You'll never get it inside.

What about the landlord?

What about him?

It's only wood.

Thank you, Robert.

Good-bye...

You're wrong to think

it's about you.

You're a sculptor, Rodin,

not a sculpture.

You ought to know.

I am that old woman

with nothing on her bones.

And the aging young girl...

that's also me.

And the man is me, too.

Not you.

I gave him my toughness.

He gave me his emptiness

in return.

There you are--

three times me.

The Holy Trinity,

trinity of emptiness.

How did you know...

...there were people

inside the big white rock?

You have a stomachache?

My father's a doctor.

You lied!

You said you wanted

my three figures...

for the Universal Exposition!

I swear, it was never a question

of the Exposition of 1900.

Listen, Miss Claudel...

I was the first one who

wrote about you, defended you.

I need recognition, not praise!

But you have it!

The order for "The Age of Maturity"

is official.

But not for the

Exposition of 1900.

It's a scheme of Rodin's.

I know it!

Whenever he can,

Rodin helps you.

He respects you deeply

as an artist.

He wishes you well.

Believe me, I'm in no mood

to be held back by Rodin's gang.

He brags about his power.

And he prints my portrait

on postcards...

against my wishes!

And the bust I made of him!

He exhibits it anywhere,

in any way, without my consent!

His head!

It's all he cares about.

And the erotic sketches!

You go too far!

Rodin isn't your enemy.

You must calm down.

You've assailed us...

with your letters

and demands for too long.

Who do you think you are?

Don't you know who I am?

Or are you pretending?

What kind of behavior is this?

You're crazy!

I'm Camille Claudel!

And if you don't know it,

I'll show you!

Doctor Michaux!

Let go of her!

Scandalous!

I'm Doctor Michaux.

What is this?

A search warrant, sir.

We're reclaiming state property.

It's a plot by the Rodin gang.

The State paid foryour work.

Monsieur Morhardt

gave you the check.

I burned the check.

Nobody can keep me from

making another one.

Capitalist!

It's your devil, Camille, again!

Exploiter of the poor!

You have to come out of

your house now.

You hear?

You'll have to walk

through garbage to get out.

You hear me?

It's time we moved.

My daughter!

It's not possible.

Your eyes are dark blue,

my child.

You look terrible.

Louise couldn't reach you.

Your brother also tried

to see you...

during his last visit.

He was in Paris?

Is that in America?

Fou Tcheou.

He travels a great deal.

He's a vice consul.

It's beautiful.

I wanted so much

to go to China with him.

He'll be well-known.

He's a great poet.

I neglected him for too long.

I know, Papa.

I always took up too much room.

Have I disappointed you?

Yes...

...but I'll always love you.

"I wanted not to weep"

"and to get up to walk,

but man only goes forward."

"Until he has to stop."

"And his bones well up

in his eyes, out of that sea..."

"which, in all chests,

rises to the same level."

"Where did I go wrong?

Where is my fault?"

"If they cut off my hands..."

"...I'll offer you the stumps."

"I'll come toward you..."

"On my bones, toward you..."

I'm ashamed...

...I'm ashamed.

Paul has found God.

He's come to terms with that.

Good terms.

And you, what will you have,

when I'm gone?

My dear Paul...

I have a lot of new ideas

for you.

Three figures listening

to another, behind a screen.

A young girl on a bench, crying.

Her parents watch, stunned.

I get great pleasure

from working.

In next year's salon,

the group of three...

if I'm done, large scale.

And I've another group in mind,

that you'll love.

See, it's no longer like Rodin.

And dressed!

You never tell me

what you're writing.

Any new books?

Several friends told me

to buy, "Tete d'Or."

It's been terribly cold lately.

I keep a fire going all night.

If you can spare

any money for heat...

it would help.

Thank you for the onyx.

I hear the crash of green water.

Hurry and come see all this.

I hold you close. Camille.

You're the only one...

...to whom I've confided

all this.

Don't show this to anyone.

Are you drunk?

Enough, Camille.

Enough!

My God, you've changed!

Haven't you seen

the river rising?

The area has been evacuated.

He wants to drown me now.

The way you carry on!

You refused an order

for ten busts of Rodin!

You're officially invited

to Prague with him--you don't go!

Have some courage, damn it!

Your behavior is irresponsible.

You hear? lrresponsible!

To complete the picture...

...you mail cat sh*t

to the Minister of Culture...

...and accuse Rodin

of stealing the Mona Lisa.

Bravo. Very funny.

Stop these morbid pranks.

Go out! Be seen!

React intelligently...

instead of burying yourself alive.

This is suicide, Camille.

I'm afraid.

I'm afraid of being robbed!

I'm afraid!

Everyone is afraid

one time or another.

But...with me...

it's all the time.

There are people...

who are bothered by me...

...who don't forgive me

for being so gifted.

No, listen, Camille.

We haven't met for a long time.

What new treasures!

Look...

This little piece...

...it's monumental!

You mean "The Chatterboxes"?

You call it that?

Or "The Gossips."

Sakountala...

...in marble.

And that little girl...

Look,

I'll give you six months...

...to create a new piece

for me, large-scale.

I'll arrange an exhibition...

a one-man show of your work.

They'll see how sublime you are.

You look like Cinderella.

I like Cinderella.

It's like the lower depths here.

I'll arrange it all.

First, the cats.

Don't move. I'll be back.

I'll carry you to the boat.

Camille Claudel is the first to

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