Le Week-End
1
- I think I'll just...
- Okay.
You've got the euros.
I've got the euros, have I?
Don't start.
You never lose anything.
I'll lose you in a minute.
Ladies and gentlemen,
- you can now purchase metro tickets...
- Thank you.
from our buffet between
coaches six and 13,
as well as a Paris pass giving you
access to museums and access to...
Pardon, monsieur.
We also sell discounted...
This is exactly what I needed.
Can't we have lunch immediately?
- Are you starving?
- I'm practically dribbling.
I like a man who knows
how to dribble.
Rue Myrha.
This is Chateau Rouge.
We've come out here.
- Ah, Montmartre.
- Ah.
Merci.
Practically fluent.
- You look French.
Oh, pardon.
- Oh, it was you.
- Oh, yeah.
Spritely.
Once you get in the rhythm,
you've got to keep going.
You're just showing off now.
Surely not.
They've tarted it up a bit.
They have?
All right?
Yep.
tiptoe with a telescope,
you could see the Hunchback
of Notre Dame's arse.
It's, um.
Beige.
There's a certain
light-brownness about it, yes.
Meg.
Meg, don't do this, Meg.
Last time, when we
were here before,
it was bigger, plus grand, different
colour, diffrente couleur.
So you recommend we
should redecorate?
I can't do that.
Merde.
- Meg.
- Sorry, sir.
How can you do...
How can you treat... Meg!
Meg!
- I'm really sorry, sir.
- Meg!
- Taxi!
- Don't.
- Taxi!
- We do have a complimentary breakfast
- if you'd like to try...
- Wait! Wait!
- Sir?
- Wait, wait, wait!
We have croissants, sir.
This was your idea.
- How terrible to be in Paris.
- You want us to sleep in a coffin.
- Give me the euros.
- What?
Give me the euros.
Wow.
Oh, Meg. Stupid...
Let's get started.
Meg!
Look, look, look!
Ah. Paris.
- Meg, stop it.
- Merci.
F***'s sake.
What are we doing? Why are we
doing it? Where are we going?
Why? What? Ooh, what?
We're in Paris!
Yes, exactly. Why don't we
just stop and enjoy it?
Just look!
You'll need this.
Okay.
Merci.
Meg! No! Please!
Bonjour.
No, no, no, no, no.
Non.
Pardon. Monsieur, non, non.
Jesus.
Meg? Meg!
Whatever it costs is fine.
- Hello, sir.
- Hello.
I'm so sorry, madame, but
unless you made a reservation,
we are completely and utterly full.
You see?
They've taken our bags.
- What now? Back on the train?
- Good idea.
Get a taxi to the Gare du Nord.
Sit in silence all the
way back to Moseley
before killing ourselves
in a suicide pact.
Perfect.
I knew this trip would
be a f***ing disaster.
- You didn't even want to try.
- I did.
But why did you book
that dreadful place?
want to try and please you.
You actually said you
wanted to go back.
- Not that far.
- Madame?
- Anyway, it was the wrong place.
- It wasn't.
- It was.
- It wasn't.
They'd just redecorated.
That's all.
Madame, there is one possibility.
- There is?
- As a special offer,
we have a prestige suite
available for two nights.
In fact, Tony Blair
once slept there.
Well?
As long as they changed the sheets.
Thank you.
May I have your passports,
and a credit card, of course?
Of course. You've
got the passports.
Passports.
Bang goes the bathroom.
Just close your eyes
when you go in.
My only remaining ambition
was to have a bidet.
Well, I think we've
earned a very good time.
You know I'm anxious about money.
We might live for ages
as a burden to others.
I've taken up Zumba.
I'm redesigning my body.
Why? Who's going to see it?
Meg?
- The keys, sir.
- Oh. Merci.
- Anything else, sir?
- Non, non.
Merci, ca va.
Do you want me to
show you the room?
No, no, it'll be all right. Thank you.
Merci, ca va, ca va.
- Thank you, sir.
- Merci.
Thank you, sir.
See you later, no doubt.
Au revoir.
On, my God!
Oh!
It really is wonderful.
Quite spectacular.
Time for some refreshment,
don't you think?
Right.
Meg, Meg, stop.
We're not that thirsty.
So far this city is a
brilliantly designed machine
for extracting all our money.
What are you saying?
What I'm saying is that
we can't proceed with the bathroom until
you've made a decision about the tiles.
What's that got to do with this?
Well, I thought that now
we're in Paris together,
we could discuss important things.
Like tiles?
It has to be done.
Suppose I want you
to choose the tiles?
Aren't you interested?
I'm not sure I am, actually, no.
Here's to us.
- I love you.
- Lots of love, darling.
Mmm.
- Can I touch you?
- What for?
This last five to ten years
your vagina has become
something of a closed book.
Now we've paid all this money,
I'd rather see the Eiffel Tower
than your partially erect sausage.
See both at the same time.
Wouldn't take a moment.
I was thinking,
we could try taking our lovemaking
into another dimension.
What did you have in mind?
to be other people.
make love to his wife.
That's unusual, if not
a far-out perversion.
I might do it for you later.
- Really?
- If you stay awake.
Last time we did this,
we could breathe.
- Have your knees gone yet?
- Not yet.
Nothing's gone yet.
Who'd want to live anywhere else?
Let's do it.
What?
Sell up, get a little
apartment here.
You'll find we'd still
have to earn money.
Haven't we worked for long enough?
What else would we do?
We could be artists.
Nick, we're from Birmingham.
Not by birth.
- Hello.
- Hi, Dad, it's me.
Hi, man!
Dad, are you at home?
No, we're on the continent.
In France, in Paris.
No, we haven't argued yet.
Not at all, no. It's wonderful.
I'm falling in love with
your mother all over again.
What?
- Another one? Oh, f***!
- Yeah, another one.
- What's going on?
- The place is teeming with them.
I'm going inside.
- It's important.
- Dad? Dad?
- It's a rat's nest.
- Oh...
And I don't know
what to do about it.
- Have you spoken to the estate agent?
- No, not yet.
- You should, that's the first thing to do.
- Think they'll be able to help?
Yeah.
Hmm.
Definitely not.
Come on, Meg, it's an emergency.
How can you let them stay in a house full
of rats with a three-month-old baby?
We just got rid of them.
You know what she's like.
She makes his life even more
intolerable than you make mine.
You make my blood boil
like nobody else!
That's the sign of
a deep connection.
Meg! Meg!
Do not mock or patronise me!
Come on.
He's our son.
- Come on.
- Stop!
Why won't you ever
let me touch you?
It's not love.
It's like being arrested.
Kiss me now, then.
Go on.
God!
That's us in ten years.
- Is that the height of your ambition?
- Huh?
- Ow!
- We're in Paris, give us a kiss.
God! What the f*** are you doing?
Don't you like to be spanked?
No! Don't you know me at all?
Whoa! Ow!
Oh, God, Nick!
Nick, I'm sorry.
- Sorry, are you okay?
- No, no, leave it. Leave it, it's my knee.
Oh, come on, old fella.
Take me to Casualty.
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Le Week-End" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/le_week-end_12350>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In