La môme aux boutons Page #2

---

Get to work.

To work, you.

This is no child's play.

You'll earn your keep. Enough!

Stupid child!

You're in everyone's way!

Go to the trailer.

See to the meal.

Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it

for Louis, the Human Snake!

What a little angel.

How old is she?

-Ten.

No mother?

What do you mean?

You be so lonely.

What about a calvados

in your trailer?

Let's go.

Do you know who I am?

I'm Theresa.

Are your eyes all right, sweetheart?

Yes.

You're so adorable.

Whom do wish to pray for?

I want to pray for Titine.

Very well. I shall look after you.

Never forget that.

Whenever you feel lonely,

remember I'm always here.

Right, that's it!

You were supposed to change that wheel.

We're all in the same rotten boat!

I don't care!

-No? Then screw you!

You shouldn't let

that kind of thing get you down!

I can't stand Caroli!

You're drunk.

-I'm going solo.

Fat chance of that!

There aren't that many circuses.

I'll manage.

Just when I was getting used to you.

-You'll do okay without me!

Saint Theresa, please make him change his mind.

I don't want to leave the circus.

He's completely messed up.

Is the girl part of the act?

Hold on.

Do something.

Before they go, do something.

Come on, do something.

Bravo!

That's my daughter!

Grasse. October 1963

I'm sick of this carrot juice.

-You'll drink it as long as I'm nursing you.

I like it dark.

-The sun will do you good.

It's hard I know,

but you need a lot of rest...

...and patience.

Your husband phoned today...

-No point.

What bothers me

is that I exaggerated.

The past 3 years were awful.

You're a performer.

Simone?

I suppose I'll never sing again?

Paris, Montmartre.

October 1935

What's up with you?

I'm hungry.

First we sing, then we eat.

Sing alone and you're a beggar.

When you're a duo it's a show.

I want to sing here.

Hey, you!

No street singing allowed.

Is that a fact?

How old are you?

-Twenty.

What's that?

She's had hardly anything to drink.

-Come here.

Do you know 'Du Gris'?

Oh, sir...

-Shut up!

If you sing that, I'll let you go.

That's my beat.I'll look the other way.

Next week it's our 21st.

Sisters for 5 years.

What do you prefer, working with me

or in the factory?

I'd rather cut my own throat.

How about you?

What do you mean?

Killing yourself in your little milk shop?

-Shut up! Not while we're eating.

Anetta, no moaning, okay?

Look, it's your drunken mother.

Edith?

Do you have any change?

That's all?

-I haven't much money.

Give me some bank notes.

-I don't have any.

I'm your mother.

-Go to hell!

Shall I sing a song?

-Throw her out!

I'm a performer. What about you?

You'll find out!

What'll I find out?

-When you're lying in the gutter.

Keep it down or leave!

-When you're in need...

F*** off!

...don't depend on your daughter

giving you a bite to eat.

That's enough.

-I'm off. Have the rest if you want.

You're no singer, you slut!

-Leave her alone or you'll answer to me.

Oh, don't bother with that lot!

F*** you!

Go and prostitute yourself on the street!

While you still can!

Thanks very much.

You'll ruin your voice doing that.

-I have to eat.

Of course you do.

I'm Louis Leple.

Here's my card. Come round to Gerney's,

tomorrow at two.

Are you a singer?

-No, but I have other talents.

Bring your music with you,

whatever you intend singing.

What if I don't come?

That's up to you, my girl.

This is all you have to show for a whole day?

This is how you reward my belief in you?

I've put a little aside for my father.

He's sick and he's broke.

I'm not a social worker.

-No really. He's sick.

If I toss you out on the street

maybe you'll get it.

Let her go!

Never! I'd rather starve than be a whore.

If you die, it's your own fault!

-Shut up!

I want MORE, is that clear?

Or you spread your legs, just like the rest.

You first.

Albert, I'm sorry...

Please stay!

-Leave the bastard.

Give her something to drink.

Are you coming to the Chinese?

-Who else is going?

The two Italians.

Plenty of snuff and tobacco.

And the warmth of another body...

Because we did it once,

doesn't mean I wish to do it again.

Don't start.

-Shall I explain?

I care not a jot for you,

and you want to know why?

No, I'm too stupid?

Because I'm an artist.

I'm going to the top. I know it.

I've always known it!

It's the Little Flower...

...Saint Theresa,

I foresee great things.

Seen her clothes?

She looks ill.

Where did he find her?

She's unbelievable.

Champagne.

The boss is crazy about her.

-What a voice!

She's really something, Louis.

-Spare me your jealousy, Josette.

What's your name again?

-Edith Giovanna Gassion.

Hmm, not very impressive.

-I have other names:

Huguette Helias, Tania...

...Denise Jay.

You've had a manicure!

-That wasn't the question.

You're just like a bird.

-You think so?

Really?

Is 'Little Bird' taken?

-Yes, it's taken.

A sparrow...

Would you call a sparrow 'piaf'?

Is that how you say it?

The Little Sparrow.

-Brilliant!

It's stupid.

-What would YOU know?

The Little Sparrow.

-Brilliant!

You'll need a suitable repertoire.

Bruants 'Les Mmes de la Cloche'.

I know it.

-If necessary practise it all night.

We'll start you on Friday.

Show's beginning.

Take care of your protge.

She's a slow starter.

I'm on my way.

Philippo, no more alcohol backstage.

What are you doing?

-I'd no time to finish it.

I'm knitting the sleeve.

-Now! We've a full house.

All the more reason!

She can't go on like that!

Look, our star is dressing the newcomer.

That's fine.

-Girls, let's go.

I have to throw up.

-Not now. Hurry up.

A day or two ago, on my way home,

Lady Luck led me...

...to the artist you'll see tonight.

Here she is, exactly as I first saw her,

an unpolished jewel:

From the street to Gerny's:

The Little Sparrow.

She's like a sister to me.

Did I lie?

-She's extraordinary.

This is the great Jean Mermoz.

This is for you.

Thank you.

Come along, Edith.

You've won them over.

And you'll continue doing just that...

...I'm introducing you to someone

who can help your career along.

I'm Marguerite Monnot.

I'm a pianist.

If you need music, I'll gladly supply it.

Thank you.

-Come.

Edith, this is Mr. Jacques Canetti.

Artistic director of Radio Cit.

Miss, I was under your spell.

-Thank you.

Please, join us at our table.

-I can't. I have to go.

What can be so important?

Thank you.

What's the matter?

Wonderful, wonderful...

Get out right now or I'll...

-Hit him in the kisser!

I've waited an hour for you!

Go to hell, you bastard!

Stop it.

Miss, you're wonderful.

My hand's about to fall off.

More bubbles.

Give me the bottle.

I said you should listen to me. Radio is

a powerful medium, am I right, Coquatrix?

But don't underestimate the Music Hall.

-Of course not.

I've something for you.

A song?

-Of course.

Raymond!

Mireille, fetch Raymond !

Somebody here for you.

That big guy wants to see you.

This is Raymond Asso.

Writer, composer, poet.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes