Cinema Sex Politics: Bertolucci Makes 'The Dreamers' Page #4

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want to strangle them?

Of course I did! But I never masturbated

in front of them, and I never--

They never forced me to do

anything I never wanted to do.

You think Isabelle

forced me, do you?

Deep down I knew things

couldn't go on as before.

Now the stakes had been raised.

But for a while, at least, there

did seem to be a kind of truce

between Theo and Isabelle.

And then one evening--

Theo!

- What film?

- What film?

Name a film where a cross

marks the spot of a murder,

or pay the forfeit.

- You too, Matthew.

- Me?

What-- What have I done?

Name a film

or pay the forfeit.

- Uh, um--

- Time's up.

- Time's up? You didn't

even give me a chance.

- The film?

Scarface.

Howard Hawks, 1932.

And the forfeit?

Well, now...

as you know, Isabelle,

I'm not a sadist.

I just want to see everyone happy,

no one left out.

So I'd like you...

and Matthew...

to make love in front of me.

But not in here.

I don't fancy sleeping in someone

else's revolting sweat.

- No offense, Matthew.

- Where?

In the spare room...

in front of the Delacroix.

Maybe one reproduction

will inspire another.

- Um, um--

- I won't do it.

- Won't do it?

- You wouldn't.

Matthew isn't my type.

Okay.

I gotta go to the bathroom.

Matthew! Matthew.

Matthew.

Matthew.

Yes?

This is silly.

Come out of there.

Okay.

Okay. All right.

Look. Wait. Look.

You're hurting me!

I'm not violent. I'm--

I'm against violence.

- I'm not gonna resist. Look.

- So shut up. Okay?

- Okay.

- Now, Matthew, you aren't

being very gallant.

Is the prospect of making love to me

so hateful?

I've seen you.

I saw you in bed together.

Oh. Our guest

has been spying on us.

Hmm. Now, that wasn't

a friendly thing to do, Matthew.

Especially when we've

been so hospitable.

Okay, okay. Look--

- Shh, shh.

- I'm not resisting! I'm not resisting!

Oh, how sweet

of you, Matthew...

to keep my image

next to your heart.

I didn't mean--

Good.

Oh, Matthew. Oh, come on.

Oh, wake up. Oh.

Come on, wake up.

Isabelle?

No. I'm Theo.

Where is Isabelle?

You have to help me.

Sorry.

Oh, that was the best one.

What about yesterday?

- Where?

- In Papa's study.

You thought that was better?

Mm-hmm. Please, please,

please, please.

- What?

- Stay inside.

Matthew.

My love.

My first love.

My great love.

My great lover.

My Valentino.

You know, I thought

you had many lovers.

When I first saw you

at the Cinmathque-

you and Theo--

you looked so cool.

So sophisticated.

- Like a movie star.

- I was.

I was acting, Matthew.

How did you and--

How did you and Theo...

come together

the way that you are?

Theo and me?

It was love at first sight.

But he's never been inside you?

He's always inside me.

What would you do--

What would you do

if your parents found out?

It must never happen.

Yeah, I know.

But, uh, what if it did?

It must never, never happen.

I understand that.

But let's say that it did.

What would you--

What would you do?

I would kill myself.

Where are you going?

Kitchen. I have to get

something to eat.

Good luck.

Theo?

- Theo?

- Hmm?

- Want some honey?

- No, thank you.

- Oh, it's good.

- No.

- It's really good. Try some.

- No.

- Just try a little bit.

- No. Thank you.

I want you to know

that I'm grateful.

Grateful?

Remember what you told me in that cafe

about you and Isabelle?

- Hmm.

- You were right.

I mean, for me,

you two are--

you're like two halves

of the same person.

Now you've made me feel

like I'm a part of you.

Both of you.

Let's get something

straight, okay?

You're a nice boy

and I like you a lot...

but no...

it wasn't always meant

to be the three of us.

I told you something else,

remember?

That Isa and I

are Siamese twins.

Yeah.

I wasn't joking.

What's this?

That, my dear brother,

is a cheese fondue...

accompanied by a compote

of broccoli and prunes.

- And this?

- That's ratatouille.

And you expect me

to eat this muck?

- You expected me to cook it.

- I prefer to starve.

You will. There's

nothing else in the house.

Matthew,

can I serve you?

The fondue or the ratatouille?

Which is which?

This is fondue,

and this is ratatouille.

No. This is the fondue,

and this is the ratatouille.

- The... ratatouille.

- Ratatouille.

Uh, that-that's fine.

Mm-hmm. Okay.

Just eat it as if you were

in some exotic country...

you've never visited before

and this is the national dish.

It looks like

he's vomiting in reverse.

It's horrible, isn't it?

I'm sorry, Isabelle.

I know you tried.

Thank you, Matthew. I'm glad

somebody appreciates my efforts.

- You say there's no food in the house?

- Nothing you'd want to eat.

- And we cashed all the cheques?

- Yes.

- So what do we do now?

- I'm going to call Papa.

The phone is dead!

What's all this?

It's lunch.

So, Isabelle,

a filet mignon.

- No.

- No?

Oh, Matthew, would you

like a rump steak?

Stop it. It's disgusting.

Oh, look. What about

this banana?

One banana for three of us?

- Uh, yes.

- I'm starving.

Let me see it.

- Why?

- Just let me see it.

- What are you doing?

- Just watch.

Et voil.

Oh, Matthew, you never

cease to surprise.

- Hey Theo.

- Salut.

- Okay?

- Fine.

- Where were you the other night?

- I couldn't make it. Sorry.

What's up? We hardly

see you now.

- We can't count on you.

- Stop pissing me off!

You're not with us anymore.

I am, but it's complicated.

Why?

Because! Get off my back.

I can't explain now.

Loser!

Theo, wait for me.

A little souvenir from Nepal.

Thanks, that's sweet.

- Call me.

- Okay, with pleasure.

See you.

We hardly left the apartment anymore.

- We didn't know or care

if it was day or night.

- Come on. Come on.

- What?

- It felt as if we were drifting out to sea...

leaving the world

far behind us.

- Too strong for you?

- That was really good.

- Good? Again?

- Yeah.

No.

Clapton's God, Matthew.

I don't believe in God.

But if I did...

he would be a black,

left-handed guitarist.

This is not Chaplin and Keaton.

This is Clapton and Hendrix.

Matthew, Clapton reinvented

the electric guitar.

Matthew, believe me.

- Clapton plugs in a guitar--

- Okay, Jimi Hendrix--

He plugs in an electric guitar,

and he plays it like an acoustic guitar.

Hendrix plugs in an electric guitar,

he plays with his teeth.

There are soldiers in

the Vietnam War right now.

Who are they

listening to? Clapton?

No. They're listening to Hendrix,

the guy who tells the truth.

It's f***ed up! It's all f***ed up!

You're talking

about soldiers in Vietnam?

- Yes.

- Okay, what are they doing in Vietnam?

- They're at war.

- What are they doing? Please tell me.

- They're fighting.

- They're killing farmers!

They're dying too.

They're killing children,

they're burning fields!

They wanna be there. They wanna die,

and they wanna kill people.

Shouldn't you be--

Shouldn't you be in Vietnam?

- Right now, shouldn't you be in Vietnam?

- I don't believe in violence.

- Where are you, Matthew?

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