Conversations with My Gardener

Synopsis: A successful artist, weary of Parisian life and on the verge of divorce, returns to the country to live in his childhood house. He needs someone to make a real vegetable garden again out of the wilderness it has become. The gardener happens to be a former schoolfriend. A warm, fruitful conversation starts between the two men...
Genre: Comedy, Drama
Director(s): Jean Becker
  1 win & 2 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.1
Rotten Tomatoes:
100%
Year:
2007
109 min
112 Views


CONVERSATIONS WITH MY GARDENER

Hello.

Anyone Home?

Anyone Home?

Coming!

I did say I didn't have a ladder.

You'd best get one for the roof.

- Didrt the lady tell you?

- What lady?

- The one I called.

- I don't know any lady.

I don't need a ladder.

Hello, by the way.

Sorry, hello.

You're here for the aerial?

Not a bit. I'm here about the ad

in Henri's caf

for the gardener's job.

- Sorry I thought...

I am looking for someone.

I want to revive the kitchen garden.

Don't I know you.

Could be.

Long ago?

Hang on it'll come to me.

In the army?

Before?

Before the army?

- F***!

The Cake,

The head's birthday.

Father what was it?

Father Colin.

Too kind, children!

Light the candles, Charles.

Same every year.

With one candle to hide his age.

That crow banger I nicked...

was the candle.

What a fuss it made!

I'll say! The old man

took his belt to me.

My mother was shouting

"Don't kill him"!"

How were we found out?

It was the P.E. Teacher.

We called him Kodak. He'd snap away

at fetes and prize-givings.

And?

On the snap before the explosion

we had our ears covered!

It was as plain as the nose

on your face we'd done it.

- Right.

- No, not wine.

You can't vex me

by refusing a little Chirouble.

A tiny drop, then.

Just to be polite.

I'm through with wine.

I drank too much of it for years.

One day my wife said,

"Stop or I'll leave you."

I listened and stopped

there and then.

Wise decision.

To memories.

What was our name?

Oh yes! The Daredevils!

That's right.

Here's my ladder.

You hired Deruzeau?

First name in the yellow pages.

You've money to spare!

I'd best be going.

Wait.

We haven't fixed the days.

I'll call in tomorrow.

I'm no friend of Deruzeau.

- See you then.

- See you then.

You've more land than I thought.

Been here long?

Yes, you were still asleep.

The whole lot as a vegetable patch

seems a bit much.

No, just a country priest's garden...

...like my mother's down there.

Yes.

That I can do.

It's there.

Lettuce, radishes,

carrots, spuds...

the same as her.

A little kitchen garden.

And the rest tidy.

That'd be good.

Veg for you and your lady

and sundry guests...

a few tomatoes,

your herbs, green beans,

broad beans... the basics.

Yes, yes.

I'll see your lady for the lettuce,

she might have favourites.

She won't be coming until it's sorted.

No rush.

I can come three times a week.

I've time now I'm retired.

- Already?

- The railway!

We fought for social issues.

I wasrt a leading light.

I made up the numbers.

The wife wouldn't have liked

me demonstrating.

Oh, I had a rummage

in the shed for tools.

Not a won'thwhile one to be seen.

Except the sickle.

It's temperamental, but it works.

I cleared a corner.

But we need a scythe.

We'll buy it together.

It's just a scythe.

Scythe for grass

or scythe for undergrowth?

Wood handle or metal handle?

Prices vary massively.

We'll go together.

- Fancy a coffee?

- No, a tea.

Tea? I haven't got any.

Coffee, then.

Right.

But I won't digest it.

What are all these pictures?

Some have nothing on.

Those are waiting.

Waiting?

I'm a painter.

Oh?

Oh?

You mean... an artist?

Yes, that's my job.

Sit down.

Excuse me.

Well, well.

It's quite a job, though.

I wouldn't have the patience.

It's not a matter of patience...

...more being willing

to take one's time...

...to look around carefully.

When I'm working

I've no time for looking.

You never watch the sun set?

The stars, the mist...

The mist?

You can't see much when it's misty.

Winter snows, a womars skin...

A womars skin?

That's not the same.

They're things you see

but don't admit to looking at.

This one's good. Precise.

Like a photo.

I was young when I did that.

Not bad for a beginner.

But it doesn't show her nature

like a good portrait should.

- Don't you recognise her?

- No.

It's my mother.

I didn't know her.

I'd never been here.

She was always in her white coat

at the chemist's.

We used the health centre.

As far as I remember.

I told the wife about the

cake last night.

And?

Didrt find it funny.

I thought of that too.

What a mess!

I was expelled, stripped of holidays,

sent to boarding school...

You too?

No, I served my time.

Time?

School to us workers,

was like military service.

The law made us go.

But when you're old enough,

you start work.

You'd have carried on studying.

Baccalaureate, maybe more.

Not really.

I scraped through the Bac...

...then on to art school...

...then a workshop, then painter.

It goes to show, eh?

Well...

Let's check the shed for tools.

Right.

What a shambles!

Like old Deruzeau's junk shop.

Deruzeau, the electrician?

He's not old.

No, that's his son.

A fool.

Not that foolish.

He married the Matouret girl.

Matouret rings a bell.

- Henriette?

- Muriel.

Her folks are loaded.

That's right.

Her mother lined her knickers

with rubber!

It was a right fuss

meddling with them.

How do you know?

That's what they said.

Wasrt she pretty?

Very pretty?

You had a crush on her?

Like everyone.

You didn't tell her?

I did.

And?

It made her laugh.

And she said yes to Deruzeau.

That hurt?

Yes, at the time.

But I never think about it,

it's so long ago.

Oh yes, once.

I gave Deruzeau...

...a poke on the snout

- What?

We were posting different bills.

So it came to blows.

Silly, but it made me feel better.

You'll need a lamp.

- I've one in the car.

- Not now.

What's all this ironmongery?

People accumulate junk.

Especially around here.

We'll have to think on, though.

I could sort through it

with my son-in-law.

I doubt you'll keep much.

We'll dump the rest.

- Or give it to a charity.

- You think?

They'll strip it down to the bone...

...but grab what you want to keep.

They take all or nothing.

Anyway, we need a scythe.

The sickle's murder on my back.

We'll take this one.

That's a fine product.

- Shall I wrap it?

- No, I'll try it.

- What for?

- Wretch!

You'd know why

if you used one all day.

The weight's important,

the handling, the balance...

you don't want to tire the arms

or the hips.

- Ever heard of the zzee?

- The zzee?

You sell scythes and don't know.

I'll show you.

Mind your backs.

Hold this, please.

Here we go.

Zzee!

Well beaten, ground and sharpened.

You won't regret buying it.

I've workmen coming in

so I'll be in Paris

sorting out business.

- You could make inroads.

- No problem.

When you get back.

I'll be taking off.

- Where?

- Annual firemars trip to Royan.

- It's Royan this year?

- Every year.

A day to prepare, a day's trip

and a day to recover.

Three days.

- Royan every year?

- Every year.

But I'll have mown the grass by then.

An army cut:
Short on top,

back and sides.

- It'll be a surprise for your lady.

- She won't be coming.

Oh? Will she stay on there?

We're breaking up.

Not divorce?

It's heading that way.

My fault though.

I was a bit silly,

had a couple of flings.

Models, mainly.

When you spend hours

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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