Populaire Page #4

Look at me. I'm so shabby.

Go on, doll yourself up.

I can pay my own way.

No later than eight at the hotel.

Don't get lost.

Are you putting it on or stitching it?

I'm coming.

Rose, you look...

Ridiculous, I know.

I mean, you're...

You're not the same person.

I'm the same.

It's the dress that's different.

It won't be practical for typing.

Well...

Time for bed.

See you tomorrow.

You've no right to do that.

#

I've no right to distract you

before the biggest competition

of your life.

Who says it would be my first time?

It's OK, Louis, this is 1959.

The time's long gone

when girls waited for marriage.

Fine.

That's one less thing

I'll have to teach you.

I can do better.

Miss Leprince-Ringuet,

defending your title

as French champion for the third year,

here at the head office of Japy...

The company's top clients

have been especially invited.

Not too nervous?

Do I look nervous?

Annie's our very best.

My father, Edmond Japy,

has designed a carriage return

with ball bearings for her.

With ball bearings?

You see, gentlemen,

neighbouring type bars

tended to block on older models.

Therefore we began by inventing

the AZERTY keyboard

so that the most common letters

in our language...

In short, with ball bearings

you touch the carriage return and...

Ifwe leave now, nobody will notice.

You're going to stay

and show them what you can do.

Do you think

you can beat your record

of 500 strokes a minute?

Achampion doesn't think,

she achieves.

Look at her.

They only have eyes for her

and I'm a ditz from nowhere.

That's your best asset.

You'll take them by surprise.

Not here, pumpkin.

Morning, miss. Your region?

)

Normandy.

Here she comes!

Annie!

Ladies! Hands over the keyboards!

The qualifiers

for the quarterfinals...

Leprince-Ringuet, way out in the lead,

followed by Layrac,

Corty,

Hubert, Portez,

Meyer, Legendre

and Pamphyle.

The qualifiers

for the semi-finals...

Leprince-Ringuet.

Trailing far behind are Layrac,

Meyer

and Pamphyle.

A moment's silence, please!

Miss Leprince-Ringuet

will compete against...

Miss Pamphyle in the final!

Ladies!

Hands over the keyboards.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we are confronted with a rare event.

Our finalists have tied

with 498 keystrokes a minute!

To determine the winner of the final,

the judges have decided

on five minutes' overtime.

Five minutes. It's make or break.

Give it all you've got!

I can't take any more.

This is what we've worked so hard for.

Isn't getting this far good enough?

- It is for me.

- It's not for me!

You've been soft all day.

Now you're going to let me down?

I lied to you.

500 strokes a minute. Her record.

You've been beating it

for ages in training.

You're mad at me?

That's the idea.

Get revenge.

Go away. I need to recentre.

Yes, darling. Recentre.

Ladies!

Hands over the keyboards.

Here's the man

who beat my two-time champion.

It wasn't me who won.

Edmond Japy. Pleasure to meet you.

Louis Echard.

Yes, I know.

Why the long face?

Isn't this a time to celebrate?

When she's world champion.

Sure,

but France has never beaten America.

Are you the man for the job?

I suppose you are?

Not so fast.

If you hadn't made her angry,

she would have lost.

Now that you've lied to her

about her scores,

there's no card left to play

in New York.

In two months, she faces the Yanks.

They make huge sacrifices

for their champions.

I hope the same can be said of you.

I love you.

Where have you been?

The press is asking all about us.

Maybe you'll tell them

how much you appreciate me.

Watch out,

Japy made me an offer.

That's perfect.

You don't think I'd accept, do you?

It's your big chance.

The power to win.

You sound like them.

You'll be a star,

travel, meet people...

I don't care!

Say goodbye

to St Fraimbault and Lisieux.

You don't need me now.

All I want is you.

You belong here.

Accept who you are, dammit!

I love you!

Not me.

You're lying.

Now I know you're capable of it.

Without the championships,

we'd never have ended up in bed.

You're lying.

You needed it to win.

I thought you were better than this.

We all make mistakes

when we're young.

Morning.

The machine in the window,

my girl's crazy for it.

Just think, Dad!

It's the first typewriter

Rose Pamphyle ever touched.

Your daughter's wonderful.

Such an inspiration!

Well?

How much?

You know me, Rose Pamphyle.

Breaking records or typing a letter,

I'm ahead of the crowd!

With the Populaire by Japy.

So light, so modern...

So rosy!

With the Populaire

you're typing on air!

In all good department

and stationery stores.

Rosy for Rose...

What imagination!

Cha cha cha

Go the secretaries

All around her, comma,

famous artists mingled,

along with some earnest children,

fervent for poetry

but clearly cut out for candy.

Period.

- Mrs Tessier?

- Miss.

You knew Rose well?

She lived here

when she moved to Lisieux.

A very decent girl.

France wants to know.

How does it feel

to be the fastest?

I think that speed

is a sign of progress.

One day, it'll be a keyboard world.

Everything's faster,

notjust in sport.

You really believe

speed-typing is a sport?

THE SECRETARY WHO'S GOING PLACES

Don't be such a sourpuss. Come on.

Get out.

Even I'm getting sick of you, sugar.

How long before you realise

he'll never pick up?

Your smiles may fool all of France,

but not me.

If your Louis can't see through it,

that's his problem.

You don't know him.

Any man who gives you up

is an imbecile.

Sleep well, Miss Pamphyle?

More fan mail. Itjust keeps coming.

Everybody loves you!

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY. DAD.

It's impossible.

The keyboard's too small!

The keyboard's fine.

It's you who isn't up to the task.

Susan Hunter's record

is 512 keystrokes per minute.

You've never exceeded 508.

You don't realise

who you're up against.

In 10 years,

Hunter's won five world championships,

breaking her own record every time.

I'm sure I've done better than 508,

Mrs Shorofsky.

You're lying.

I never lie.

There's nothing to celebrate.

You haven't seen the sales figures

for the Populaire.

Run along. You've kept her for hours.

Give her a break.

Here.

Go, go, go.

That's right.

What a killjoy!

Do you have to kiss

every speed-typing champion?

Yes, it's sort of a tradition.

And ditching her

after she fails to win,

is that part of the tradition, too?

I knew you were no fool.

I've read a few books.

Don't stop.

There you are.

It's about time.

Bob's been worried to death.

Aren't you sick

of hiding your feelings behind him?

Where have you been?

- Last time you acted like this...

- You'd just left me.

Funny you remember.

You pretend it never happened.

You'd say I do the same.

What's Bob got that I haven't?

You're drunk.

I couldn't be more sober.

What's he got that I haven't?

Answer me.

He gave me a life to share.

Unlike you.

You went away to war without a promise.

You could have married me before.

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