Gigi

Bonjour, monsieur.

Bonjour, madame...and company.

Good afternoon.

As you see, this lovely city

all around us is Paris.

And this lovely park is, of course,

the Bois de Boulogne.

Pardon me.

Who am l?

Well, allow me to introduce myself.

l am Honor Lachaille.

Born:
Paris.

Date:

Not lately.

This is 1 900.

So let's just say. . .

. . .not in this century.

Circumstances:

Comfortable.

Profession:

Lover and collector

of beautiful things.

Not antiques, mind you.

Younger things.

Yes, definitely younger.

Married?

What for?

Now, please don't misunderstand.

Like everywhere else,

most people in Paris get married.

But not all.

There are some who will not marry

and some who do not marry.

But here in Paris,

those who will not are usually men. . .

. . .and those who do not

are usually women.

Now, for example,

here we find exhibit A:

The married kind.

These ladies stood their ground

And won

And I salute them, every one

Here are some others to behold

For whom the bells have never tolled

Oh, what a poor, defenseless pair

In those pathetic rags they wear

And there is the future.

Someday, each and every one of them. . .

. . .will either be married. . .

. . .or unmarried.

How adorable they are!

Each time I see a little girl

Of 5 or 6 or 7

I can 't resist the joyous urge

To smile and say thank heaven

For little girls

For little girls

Get bigger every day

Thank heaven for little girls

They grow up

In the most delightful way

Those little eyes

So helpless and appealing

One day will flash and send you

Crashing through the ceiling

Thank heaven for little girls

Thank heaven for them all

No matter where

No matter who

Without them

What would little boys do?

Thank heaven

Thank heaven

Thank heaven

For little girls

This story is about a little girl.

lt could be any one of those girls

playing there. But it isn't.

lt's about one in particular.

That one.

Her name is Gigi.

Gigi!

What you have to look forward to!

Those little eyes

So helpless and appealing

One day will flash and send you

Crashing through the ceiling

Thank heaven

For little girls

Thank heaven for them all

No matter where

No matter who

Without them

What would little boys do?

Thank heaven

Thank heaven

Thank heaven

For little girls!

Hello, Grandmama.

Gigi, where have you been?

Playing in the park.

l had to, Grandmama.

My foot fell asleep in class.

lt wouldn't wake up.

Did you forget what day it is?

lt's Tuesday.

Aunt Alicia!

Well, l'd better run.

You cannot go to your Aunt Alicia's

looking like that.

Put your coat on.

Let me comb your hair.

Yes, Grandmama.

l hate this coat.

lt makes my legs feel so long.

Yes, your legs are long.

You know. . .

. . .sometimes l'm sorry

you never learned to dance.

But l want to, Grandmama.

Why don't you let me take lessons?

No. Not the same mistake twice.

Your mother took singing lessons,

and look where she ended up.

Slaving away at the Opra-Comique

in ridiculous little roles.

-She seems happy.

-Happy!

l went to see her one night.

l couldn't even find her.

ln the first act. . .

. . .she was behind a tree.

ln the second act. . .

. . .behind a tenor.

Mama's awake.

lsn't it early?

She's on this afternoon.

If I Were King.

That's more than she does

in the whole opera.

And when l think of

that delightful old gentleman. . .

. . .with all those flour mills.

Who?

Nothing.

You go to school every morning.

You see your Aunt Alicia once a week.

That's all the lessons you need.

When the time comes,

you'll be ready.

Ready for what, Grandmama?

Enough. Now run.

-Goodbye, Grandmama.

-Goodbye, Gigi.

--more powerful, monsieur.

Sixty kilometers an hour!

There's nothing faster on the road,

monsieur. Not here or in America.

Your uncle is here, monsieur.

Of course, the smaller is

a first-rate machine, monsieur.

Naturally, the larger one

is more expensive.

l'd be happy to

demonstrate both.

l beg your pardon, Monsieur Gaston.

Your father wanted me to ask you. . .

. . .did you, by any chance, buy the

Paris-Lyon-Mditerrane Railroad?

The Paris-Lyon-Md--?

Yes, yes, l did.

According to this morning's

opening at la Bourse...

. . .it's gone up 1 2 points.

l thought it would.

Monsieur Lachaille, about the car.

Send it over in the morning

with the bill.

Yes, monsieur. Thank you.

But which one?

My dear fellow, l don't care.

Either one.

l'm sorry l kept you waiting, Uncle.

Why didn't you come upstairs?

l was afraid l'd meet

my brother and sister-in-law.

-You would have.

-l have to tell you. . .

. . .your parents bore me to death.

-Me too.

-But l've known them longer. . .

. . .so they've been boring me longer.

After you.

Your father is actually quite unique.

He was a bore at the age of 5.

All he has to say is, ''Hello,''

and l can barely keep my eyes open.

Armenonville.

l waited for you at the embassy

last Sunday. What happened?

The thought of another embassy tea

paralyzed me.

lnstead, l had tea with an old friend

Madame Alvarez.

-Madame Alvarez?

-Yes, you know her.

Or knew her once, didn't you?

-Does she say l did?

-l think she's mentioned it.

Then l suppose l did.

lt's the one place in Paris

where l can go and relax.

Whose luncheon are you

taking me to today?

Henri Trouvre.

We have to go.

l'm meeting a heavenly creature there.

You're still young, Uncle, aren't you?

Not compared to her.

But l must say,

l am compared to you.

Maybe it's the women you go with.

How old is Liane?

About 30.

That may be it.

Youth is the thing, Gaston.

Youth!

Stay close to the young. . .

. . .and a little rubs off.

l'm bored.

Bored?

Look at all the captivating

Fascinating things there are to do

Name two

Look at all the pleasures

All the myriad of treasures

We have got

Like what?

Look at Paris in the spring

When each solitary thing

Is more beautiful than ever before

You can hear every tree

Almost saying, ''Look at me!''

-What color are the trees?

-Green!

-What color were they last year?

-Green!

-And next year?

-Green!

It's a bore

Don 't you marvel at the power

Of the mighty Eiffel Tower

Knowing there it will remain evermore

Climbing up to the sky

Over 90 stories high

-How many stories?

-Ninety!

-How many yesterday?

-Ninety!

-And tomorrow?

-Ninety!

It's a bore!

The river Seine

All it can do is flow

But think of wine

It's red or white

-But think of girls

-It's either yes or no

And if it's no or if it's yes

It simply couldn 't matter less

But think of a race

With your horse in seventh place

Then he suddenly begins

And he catches up and wins

With a roar!

It's a bore!

Life is thrilling as can be

Simply not my cup of tea

It's a gay, romantic fling

If you like that sort of thing

-It's intriguing

-It's fatiguing

It's a game

It's the same dull world

Wherever you go

Whatever place you are at

The Earth is round

But everything on it is flat

Don 't tell me

Venice has no lure

Just a town without a sewer

The Leaning Tower I adore

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