Mr. Bean's Holiday Page #2

of their dead so they might forget their past.

Wherever I look,

I'm reminded our relationship is dead.

- You stay.

- You okay?

Me, Papa.

On the outside, yeah.

But inside?

Nothing.

DeBrock is making the drop.

Boss...

It's going down, boss.

It's me.

Boss?

Do we go?

He's cornered, boss.

We know he's in there.

Let's do it.

Okay, boss.

Nothing.

Hey.

The little boy?

Oh, look, this is my scene.

It's winter now.

And the seeds of love lie deep within me.

Will spring ever come?

I thought by now I'd have met another,

- but...

- Hi...

It was not to be.

They cut my scene.

But I can show the world

that you were once mine.

I can relive our time together.

Those precious memories

that I yearn to forget.

Time slips through my fingers like sand.

The fires of our love have burned out,

and now there is nothing.

Nothing but a sky black with ashes.

I won't forget you, your kisses like soft fruit.

Your laughter bursting into daylight

like silver.

Your smile like the curl of the sickle moon

in the night sky.

Your luminous beauty, your goodness,

your patience,

how you hung on my every word.

You are now in the arms of another.

Who is he, this man?

Does he have poise?

Does he have grace?

Is he a lover or a fighter?

What powers does he have over you?

Do your eyes dance like fireflies in the night

when he comes to you?

Does your body soften

as your lips shape his name?

I can't believe you've been so selfish.

Open the door.

Open up!

You are consumed by love.

It's Mr Carson Clay.

How does he cast a spell over you,

enchant you, beguile you?

Why did you shut me out?

Come on. Come on.

Where is he?

Where's the projectionist?

I struggled to survive.

When I look back

on the darkest moments of our history,

I knew that we would part.

Whose is this?

And that now, I must let you go.

We will know a deeper, surer love.

It begins fleetingly,

but it deepens and endures.

It grows amidst all the strangeness of life.

It is a beauty we can always depend on.

It is the beauty of friendship.

Stop!

You stole my son!

No, he didn't!

Where is my son? Where is he?

That... Here...

Papa!

Mama!

A very strange thing happens

when you're making a work of art.

Sometimes you don't quite

see the elements coming together,

and then, when it all comes together,

there's something magical,

something organic,

and such a thing happened today,

and everyone said this wouldn't work.

They said it was a terrible risk,

but I want to keep on making films

just like this.

The video-film combination, it's something

that's really been done before,

but not quite like this.

I'm glad the reception was so great.

And I'm just happy to be here.

Vive la France.

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