Monsieur Lazhar Page #4

But impossible to understand

why she did it here.

Party time?

Bachir!

They look delicious.

What are they?

These are makrout el louz,

and these are tchareks.

Tchareks. Thanks!

Dance with me, Mr Lazhar.

What will people think?

Everyone knows I'm your favorite.

I don't know how to dance.

Liar.

What?

You should dance with Claire.

You go ahead, please.

These are Rice Krispies squares.

Rice Krispies squares?

Yes, I made them. I'll give you

the recipe, if you'd like.

Oh, yes!

They're like baklavas...

but Quebec-style.

Interesting.

Gimme that, you dick!

Give it back to me!

Give it back to me! Now!

What's going on?

He started!

What's with you two?

Do you want to ruin the party?

Goddamn retard!

Have you gone crazy?

Hold it right there, young man.

What's got into you two?

Is what you did nice?

Give me that! Give me that!

Sit there.

Where's Victor?

The nurse's room.

But it's not serious.

Emma saw the picture.

She's in pieces.

That's Victor's fault!

Why do you have it?

Planning to have it framed?

He's not normal!

Is hanging yourself

in class normal?

Excuse me? What did you say?

We should've confiscated his camera!

If ever...

Audrey, ask the nurse

if Victor's ok.

If he is, bring him here. Please.

Perfect.

Simon, is there something

you want to say about the photo?

Bachir, could you leave us, please?

Did you see it?

I don't need to see it.

I can't get Martine

out of my head.

The dead stay in our heads

because we loved them.

And because they loved us.

Your mom's not here?

I don't know where she is.

Chicago, Miami...

Who's picking you up?

My babysitter.

Bye.

I need the budget for

your year-end outings by Monday.

Bachir, did you decide on yours?

Bachir?

Yes?

Your year-end outing?

We're seeing Molire's

Imaginary Invalid.

The kids must be ecstatic.

Some parents want Simon

to be suspended

for hitting Victor.

They're back playing together.

It's not the parents' business.

Of course it is.

Simon's getting more violent.

If it were my call,

I'd expel him.

The parents are deeply worried.

We could punish this outburst,

but Simon's photo points

to a deeper problem.

What are you insinuating?

Nothing. I'm talking about

the kids' grief, the school's.

Apart from the photograph,

what has Simon done?

He's very aggressive.

When you whistle in his ear?

He was horrid to Martine.

With that photo?

Let's not bring that up again.

Bring what up?

Martine gave Simon tutoring.

Once, when he was having

problems at home,

she hugged him.

He pushed her away violently.

Later, he complained that

his teacher had "kissed" him.

- Kissed?

- No.

A peck on the cheek.

Yes. Well, in fact it was a hug.

She was like that with everyone.

Affectionate.

She did nothing wrong.

Except make an error of judgment.

An encouraging tap on the back...

"Poor judgment!"

My kid came back from summer camp

with second-degree burns...

Gaston, please!

...because his counselor wasn't

allowed to put sunscreen on him.

Today, you work with kids

like with radioactive waste.

Hands off or you'll get burned!

- You're exaggerating!

- Yeah?

Try teaching kids on a pommel horse

without touching them.

- Impossible!

- Ok, thank you, Gaston.

So I take my whistle

and have them run laps like a jerk,

and they take me for a jerk.

Martine gave the kid

a comforting hug.

She got burned.

She found it tough.

She did, but you're extrapolating.

We can either help Simon or

dump him into someone else's yard.

We can still get through to him.

I suggest a week's detention

and I'll have a specialist see him.

Another specialist!

Did you draw Martine

hanging herself?

I'm not normal, don't you know?

You're not the only one who's sad.

But no one else was so mean to her!

Her things. From her desk.

We called her husband.

He never came.

I planned to chuck it.

But some of it might be useful.

"So you can read them

a new fable every week.

"Pierre."

Pierre's her husband.

He didn't come.

If it's not you, it's your brother.

I haven't any.

Then someone close to you!

Then someone close to you!

For sorely you try me,

You, your shepherds and your dogs.

Oft have I been told:

Vengeance must I take.

Thereupon, deep into the woods,

The wolf carried off the lamb

and ate it,

Deaf to all appeals.

Very moving, Miss Marie-Frdrique

Caron-McCarthy!

What does the fable teach us?

It's unfair for the lamb.

Unfair? Interesting. Why?

It's not the lamb's fault.

Remember how the fable begins.

"Might makes right.

As will be plain in sight."

Do you agree?

So what if we agree or not?

Even if the wolf is wrong,

he wins the argument.

Like you.

Meaning?

A teacher always gets his way,

even if it's unfair.

To further explore this,

write a fable

on the theme of injustice.

To make it fairer,

I'll also write one

that you'll correct.

Go, flee your teacher's injustice.

Have a nice evening!

- Bachir.

- Hello.

I thought the pipes were knocking.

Pipes can knock? Lovely.

- How are you?

- Fine, thanks.

- And you, Ms Martel?

- Good, thanks.

You can call me Claire.

Yes, certainly.

Your coat?

Thank you.

For you, almond samsas.

Thank you.

Can I get you a drink?

A glass of red wine?

Mrs Dumas hasn't arrived?

Pierrette can't make it.

I need a second in the kitchen.

A little ethnic music?

No, my iPod's just on shuffle.

- Shuffle?

- Yeah, shuffle.

Oh, shuffle!

- You've no idea what it means.

- No.

It just means "random".

It's the iPod

that chooses the music.

Like an MP3 player, you know?

An ethnic appetizer?

Thanks, later.

You don't teach just theater?

Theater, conjugations,

vocabulary, dictation,

composition...

Sincerely, I'm sorry,

I can't do it.

I don't know what to say.

It's just dinner. We can postpone.

I meant the curriculum.

I'm sorry!

No, it's my fault.

I'm so anxious about school.

I worry for the kids.

I imagine them grown up,

but still speaking like children.

And it's my fault,

because I've forgotten

to put some color in their lives,

some African violets

in their classroom.

I feel guilty for having

abandoned them.

Even the ones we're not able

to reach, we don't abandon.

Did you know Martine Lachance well?

Quite well, yes.

Do you think there's a link

between Simon and her suicide?

Martine hadn't been well

for a long time.

She had anxiety attacks.

But suicide...

- Can we change the subject?

- To?

You left Algeria

because of terrorism?

You could say that.

When?

A few years ago.

- Did you teach during the war?

- No.

Well, yes.

Yes.

Did you discuss it in class?

- About what?

- Terrorism, the victims?

You mean the dead, Claire?

- You used my first name.

- Yes.

No turning back.

It would be strange, I admit.

More wine?

Absolutely.

It's getting a bit warmer,

and up there?

It's getting a bit warmer,

and up there?

Jeez!

No. Well, I have someone

for dinner.

No, a colleague.

It's him.

Algeria.

Arabia is 4,000 km from there.

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