Il giardino di Lucia (2005) - Alberto Cima Film Maker

Uploaded by AlbertoCimaFilmMaker on 26.11.2011

I'll do it today, instead of yesterday.
A hunter's coming.
Here're the carrots from the garden.
They're lovely.
He said at 6 pm, but he hasn't finished.
No water in the reservoir, they say.
I told them how much there is here.
Impossible, they say.
- Good afternoon. - To you, too.
I'd put a cloth here to stop it.
That's fine, that's enough for everybody.
The lmagna Valley was poor.
There wasn't any industry.
There wasn't any work, it had nothing.
In order to eat, you had to run away.
I started talking to my husband
about moving to France
because he never saw our three children
only one month or two a year.
He said the children were growing up
without knowing their father and
when he came home, they were scared.
So he'd say: I'll take you to France.
But I didn't want to go. I didn't want
to leave my family behind.
Because I had a young brother
another one was disabled in the war
my uncle had always looked after me
because I'd lost my father and mother
and he took me in.
And leaving them was very painful.
I'd say: I don't want to come!
In the end, he said: If you don't come
I won't come back home again.
I was forced to follow my husband.
I'd said yes to him.
When you say yes, it must mean yes.
We packed our suitcases, came to
Tréminis, and we're still here.
So she came in the end!
If she wanted to stay there, I'd have left
her there and I'd have stayed here.
We got married to live together
not to leave each other.
So she has to follow her husband.
When he had his accident
he didn't tell anybody
not even my mother, so for a long time
we nursed him thinking
it was rheumatism or something similar
that's why a lot of time went by
before he ended up explaining
what had happened to him in the wood.
He fell
he clearly suffered trauma
which damaged
his spine and his arm
he couldn't work in the wood any more
he had to give up his job.
Just as I was about to go
to boarding school in Annecy.
My father left, he went to France
to work in the woods
in the Côte d'Or.
Every year he would take
one of us children with him
to work in the wood.
One by one all four
of us brothers went
to work with him.
Well... Every man to his trade.
- It's not complicated, Father. - It's not complicated for you.
I can see everything but...
- You know what this is. - A tree.
Yes, you can see it is.
I can see it's a tree, nothing else.
And what about this here, what is it?
Trees, aren't they?
And what are these?
What is it? Aren't they roots? Trees?
- It's water. - Water.
It's a pond. The trees in the pond.
See, it's some trees in the pond.
I don't know what's in the water.
- This is. - I'm going to stretch my legs.
Yes, go for a short walk.
- The morning's already gone. - Right.
I want to look at something down there.
I had three children
and all three in the month of October.
Because my husband was...
he worked in France
and came home for Christmas.
After he'd stay for two or three months.
But at the same time
he'd plant his little grain.
And then the grain grew and
in October there was always a baby.
Carla was the first
then came Benoît
and René, they were
both born on 7th October.
Not the same year, but on the same day.
After I came to France
I had Marisa but
she was born in April, not in October.
The half hour is here with us.
I was also proud
to be able to help the woodcutters
when I was 9 or 10 years old.
They'd come and call me saying:
We've earned this money working
but we don't know how to split it up.
You've been to school, you know how to
multiply and divide, you must help us.
This made me feel really important
because there was little me helping...
these giants. To me the woodcutters
were giants. My father was a giant.
For ages he was like a mountain to me
you couldn't move him, he was there.
He was protective but authoritative too.
This is my youngest child.
I put him to bed at night...
My brother told me:
This dog isn't fit for hunting any more.
It's no longer a hunter, but a big baby.
I give him food, water...
- Well, have a nice day! Bye-bye. - You, too.
What a fuss, what a fuss!
- Landscapes and gardens... - Yes, I've already got some.
To order flowers and plants
the prices are on there.
My mother was...
nearly 40 when she died.
And I always used to say:
I might not live to be her age.
And I kept thinking about this...
And now, I'm twice her age.
And I'm still here.
This is my brother with his son.
This is my father
when he was 18, he was in France
working, with his friends.
And my father when he joined up.
This is my mother
she worked in a factory
a photograph for her passport because
she came to France, after she married.
I was the eldest, then came
my brother Giuseppe and my cousin.
My husband when he was in the army.
Then we got married in '46.
Here are my two eldest
my daughter Carla and Benoît
when they were three and one.
Afterwards, René was born
and then we set off
from Italy for France, this was
the last photo we took in Italy.
We were poor.
The poorest people in the world
in those years.
There were 12 of us in the family.
With no father.
We lost our father.
At the age of 40, poor man.
And Mother was left with 12 children.
And all at once
if I wasn't here
it'd have gone in her face.
The coffee went as far as the door.
It was everywhere.
I thought the cowboys had come
I thought they were shooting
We didn't even realise.
The coffee was...
on the ceiling, yes.
It was everywhere.
It took a whole day to clean the house.
Do you want a piggy-back?
Go on, call Daddy. Call him from here.
- Daddy, come down! - What?
Come down!
You come down!
Go to him, quickly, run.
Don't climb up the ladder, mind?
What're you doing? Wait for me.
You're a big boy.
I'm on the roof.
- On the roof? - Yes.
Coming? Come on.
Let go!
Nino's father is on the roof.
I started working in Mens
I moved to Mens
I got married, I had my two
sons Stephan and Sylvain
and little Nino.
They're all here.
I'm going.
There was a teacher who...
one year we had this teacher.
He was always eating potatoes.
He'd put some potatoes in the cinders
in winter. We'd light the fire
we'd get a nice blaze going for him.
We used to freeze to death
and he'd always stay put
right in front of the fire
the whole time he was in school
Then one of my mates would say:
Come on, let's put a rifle cartridge
in the embers, in the ash, so
when he goes to stir the ash
the casing'll burn
and the cartridge'll explode.
But not with the shot inside
only the powder.
Go on, then!
The time comes when
we're all back in the classroom
we sit down at our desks
and we were there waiting
for him to go and stir the embers
to bake the potatoes.
Finally, he starts poking
the fire with the tongs.
Then, all of a sudden
there we were waiting for...
The ash, the fire, everywhere.
He fell over backwards.
He was shouting! He was crying!
We all ran out of the school
down the stairs.
And him, poor man, all full of
embers, fire and ash.
He never put
any potatoes in the fire again.
My mother worked at the Spa
we got by.
The year before Father had gone of f
to go to work in Terracina
because there wasn't any work.
And so he was working there.
And then in August
he caught pernicious malaria
in 24 hours he was dead.
So Mother was left with three children,
the other one was already dead.
We lived on
the little wages I earned.
My brother used to do some work
for our cousins, who were turners
they gave him food
and a little bit of money, too.
That's how we lived.
And then in January
my mother caught pneumonia
had to stay in bed.
Things weren't too bad
it was my uncle who looked after her.
Then one day he told...
it was over, after 15 days
the pneumonia had gone.
He told my aunt: I'm going for a rest
but don't you touch Marietta.
Marietta was my mother's name.
Don't touch her, give her nothing.
She let my uncle go away and
then decided to give her an enema.
The poor woman was worn-out because
they didn't use to give people
with pneumonia anything to eat.
She was worn-out.
She gave her one, she died.
This is what finished her off.
So we were on our own once again.
René is an extraordinary person
because he's always fought for...
he's clung to life... I'm thinking
off that store of vitality he had as a boy
he's done all he can to make it stronger
to be able to get through anything.
I didn't spend much time with him
he was in Paris for a long time
then he set off again for an operation
and when he came back, I left
for Annecy, I was at boarding school.
I was physically far away, but he's
always present very present and
whenever I'm down, I complain
and I say: Ah, life's hard!
he's there for me, he's the one
who helps me carry on.
I say: He doesn't complain, he's always
done everything possible for others,
he plays bowls, swims,
he goes fishing and hunting
he takes care of others, even if at times
he gives the impression of being a bear.
He's the exact opposite, he isn't a bear.
His sensitivity is so...
so great and so...
protected, I think that
having had to fight against so much
has become his strength.
I didn't go to school all that often.
I spent more time playing in the canals
catching frogs.
But now I don't do that any more.
This little doll is
a present I got at school.
It was Christmas, at home
we didn't get any presents
and I chose this doll myself
even if I wasn't allowed to play with it.
My mother was afraid I'd break it
and liked me to keep it as a souvenir.
So it's spent 45 years
in the kitchen sideboard where
I was occasionally allowed to touch it.
But I was never allowed to play with it.
I've pinned on it a keepsake of Melanie
it's a small dummy my daughter wore
around her neck when she was small
and I've added it to the souvenir
of Christmas when I was 5 years old.
Yes, come in.
- Mum, how's it going? - Peekaboo, Manina!
- Are you well? - Yes, and you?
Yes, I'm fine.
- So what are you doing today? - Nothing special.
- Aren't you going out? - No.
The family is very important to me
but I'm one of those few people who,
if they can, will avoid a family meal,
but not because I don't love them
or don't want to see them
but the older I get, the closer I grow
to my family, because... as a child
I hated them, they bored me
what still bores me a lot is that
all my cousins have all got somebody and
I'm always on my own, it's embarrassing.
If you're part of a couple, for instance
you aren't free to do what you want
or if you are, you hurt your partner
besides, it's a choice you have to make
I've made my choice for now
I'm sticking to my freedom
because I still need it
and there's time, I tell myself
but it's true that at times I think
I should perhaps start a serious
relationship with someone and do
the things everyone else does, like my
parents, but I tell myself I couldn't.
My grandmother, when I think of her
I always laugh because
I see her, a bit nervy telling Grandad off
baking her cakes
she tells me things
Gran thinks... she believes in God very much
and I'm the only one who does it for Gran
it's for my grandmother that I want
to still believe in God, she loves it
when I go to church
if I see a church I think of Gran
at times she says to me...
because my sister, like many people
didn't get married in church, this upsets
Gran because we were brought up
in this religion, and then later as you
grow up you either practise it or not.
Often she says to me:
If one day you have a baby
I hope you'll baptise it.
And l: Yes Gran, I promise, I'll baptise it.
And she told me:
I'm warning you, I won't be there to see
but if you don't baptise it, I'll wake you
in the night and come and scratch
your feet while you're sleeping.
I hadn't yet seen
what they've done.
The Virgin Mary.
No, it's not the Virgin Mary, it's Jesus.
This is the house where
Pope John XXIII was born.
If you'd like to see it...
This is the lmagna Valley.
And this is Cornabusa, the grotto.
My life. We lost
our parents when we were very young.
And to the first one, to Bernardo, when
he came I said: Yes, you can come
but you must be serious, right.
See, I haven't got a mother or a father
so if you're coming to abuse me,
go somewhere else.
I swear, Alberto, he never once
laid a finger on me never never.
And when I dreamt of him again
not long ago, one day
he said: I've come to see you
because you've been so good to me
and serious, now I want to marry you.
And he's always always helped me.
When something's wrong, I turn to him.
The story's over.
I can't forget him
there's nothing I can do.
When I arrived in Tréminis
I was really scared
for a few months
because I could see in front of me
this mountain that seemed enormous
that hid from me everything that
might be happening in the world and
I'd always say to my parents
especially to my mother:
If you could build me
a very very tall ladder
I'd like to lean it
against the mountain top so
I'd be able to see my country Italy and
my cousins who are right behind it.
Because for a long time I was sad
I missed my cousins
and Mother used to say: But they're not
far, they're behind the mountain!
And I never did get my ladder.
When I was small, I was 6 or 8
a missionary arriving from Africa
used to come up to us in Sant'Ombono
lmagna to make films.
About children who were ill
and who had nothing.
They made such an impression on me
that I made up my mind
to become a nun when I grew up.
And every year I longed for
6th January, the day of the Epiphany
to see this film.
We were all happy
and then 4 or 5 of us girls
would get together and...
how do you say... collect some money
to have a baby baptised.
Because you needed 5 lire
we were poor
but we'd start early on
putting this money aside.
Besides, I also longed to
grow up, and
I'd tell my mother: I'm becoming a nun.
And then disaster struck
I lost my father in August
my mother in February
and I couldn't, I was... an orphan
with two brothers and a sister.
I had to work in the factory
and forget about becoming a nun.
But I liked the idea, I'd always say:
I want to go to Africa
to help the children.
And it cost me a lot because
I didn't want to get married.
Later I changed my mind as it was...
well, I just couldn't.
Then I got married when I was 25
but I've always been the mother
in my family.
With an Italian accent.
How are you? Everything all right?
You're Italian, aren't you?
No, no, Belgian, of Belgian origin.
- Belgian? - I'm from the north.
You'll end up speaking Italian.
Now I mix everything up
French, the Bergamo dialect.
Good morning, Olga. How are you?
Yes, give me... No no, that one
I'd bought a big one for 2 and 40.
My brother made this mortar
for Carla on St. Lucy's Day.
- How old are you? - 57
He's been here for at least 55 years.
Afterwards, it's yours, when I'm gone.
It had its small... pestle.
What I like are all the traces
that water, wood, roots
have left on the stones.
Everywhere you'll find
stones with white marks
stones with a tuft of fern
that's left a faint trace.
Life passing by.
You can unravel a landscape
with nothing, with just a few words
not to talk about life
but to find words that are
a bit like magic keys.
You take it, you say it
and when you've said this word
you see a whole lot of things.
You've opened a door.
See, when I say Tréminis
I see a whole lot of things.
When I was at boarding school
and in bed in the dormitory, I'd cry
because I was far away from everybody
I just had to say Le Grand Ferrand or
Tréminis and things were at once better
because I had the support, the help
of all those images
I'd stored up.
When I went back during the holidays
I paid attention to every detail because
I knew that it would help me later on
and it would keep me warm
it was a bit like a second mother.
It was tenderness, a warm comfort.
You get this more or less everywhere
observing the grass, the mushrooms
a piece of bark, a bee out for a walk
a leaf falling
a bird we disturb or one that's hungry
and is looking for crumbs on the table
and a child grows up with all this, it's
like being back in its mother's womb.
You see, to me Tréminis is
my second mother, because
at the beginning it was Italy
and I missed Italy very much
but then, this mountain
that's up there, closing everything in
that I used to feel was like
an obstacle, something hard
has little by little turned into
a reassuring, maternal shape for me
because it's not rigid
it's got woods that broaden it out
and to me the woods have become a bit
like arms, the arms of a mother.
This is why in my poems
when I write about this wood
I talk of a scarf, a maternal scarf.
Tréminis is dead.
Nobody here any more.
There's one over there, all we need is...
I always move it, I do.
The saw, that's all.
Do you want something... or a beer?
No, a bottle of water.
I don't drink from the bottle.
Haven't you plucked the pheasants yet?
No, I haven't, Benoît. This evening.
The pheasants have got to be cleaned.
Look at that lovely hen pheasant!
They're lovely.
- This was a good shot. - Both of them.
They're big.
This is the cock, that's the hen.
She's smaller.
The husband and the wife.
Who killed it?
I shot it but it was Rocace who...
Yes, that's right, he told me.
Enough. That's enough.
My husband brought me his wages
at the end of the month
but he didn't see to anything else.
He worked
yes, he did ask...
what I did, where the money went
but he never bothered with
neither the children's schools
nor if there was any money or not
I had to see to that.
Then the children grew up
and everything changed.
Then at 46 he was invalided
from work, he stopped working.
It was another life.
But I can't complain
because he asked nothing of me.
He didn't want...
to know if I spent the money or not.
He trusted me. That's all.
So far it's never snowed here.
The temperature's lower than yesterday.
Yes, but it'll go up.
A little bit of sunshine... it'll go away.
Well, Mufi. Shall we let the goats out?
Have you finished?
Come on, beddie-byes.
Jada, there.
Here, go to sleep.
You've got to stroke her
to make her sleepy.
Are we comfortable there?
If it snows, there's plenty of wood.
It was here...
The chicken's cooked.
When you're naturally beautiful
you're always beautiful.
My first cat
was 13 when she was very ill
she was always indoors
especially on my daughter's bed
and when she felt death was near
one day I looked for her
I couldn't find any more
she was on the ground floor
next to the dustbin.
She spent the whole day there
she didn't want to go anywhere else
she stayed near the dustbin.
She felt, she knew she was about to go
she'd found her place.
I must have been 8 or 9, there were
times when I didn't dare even
fall asleep at night any more because
I'd say: Tomorrow morning I'll be dead.
Nobody in my place any more.
Or my mother'll die.
I had nobody around me to help
I didn't know who to ask.
They treated this by... when
I wasn't well Mother used to give me...
she'd look for a grape
or something else, a biscuit
and then, there you are, it went away.
But the fear of death is something
that's anyhow always there
and that forces us to look for
perhaps not to find answers but
something to help us carry on.
And then later on perhaps...
I went through another big crisis
after my children were born
when I was about 30
I had 4 children, that was another time
I realised you've got to ask yourself
like everybody does
but what's the meaning of life
what do you want to do
what do you need to feel better
because I felt I was suffering
I couldn't say what from
I didn't know what word to use
to define this distress
and then I was able to carry on
thanks to writing and painting
because I needed something else
I couldn't stay shut up.
I loved my house, my children
but it was anyway a universe that
was very, too narrow and
it had become a sort of prison.
Well, it was this prison I had to...
blow up
not all the bars in one go
but one bar after the other.
Words and colours have helped me
find again... brought me back to
my desires as a girl and as a woman.
This I want to cut into a circle
and put it on the sunshade
which is all torn.
I've put some grass for the goats there.
Yes, I saw. I'll put it out this evening.
I've got to go and make my ravioli.
- Ravioli? - Yes.
Good, they must be delicious.
I couldn't find you, where were you?
Back there, looking at the flock.
- Back there, by the vegetable garden? - On the road.
- Yes, but... - Well!
You go further than I do!
But... there are times when it's sad.
That's the way it is.
Luckily, I have the kids who
come to visit me
they all love me
if they didn't, it would be very hard.
Indeed... what can you do?
That's life.
There are hard times and...
ups and downs, as they say.
What's Marisa doing, I can't see her!
She might be picking vegetables.
Gaelle doesn't want anything
Melanie wants potatoes and carrots.
Yes, yes, Gran.
Always treated very well.
Let's go!
Like Matteo says, it's good for old bones.
Saint Lucy, mother of mine
bring the sweets in this shoe of mine...
Becassin was ill
they took her to hospital
the hospital was closed
Becassin snuffed it.
It's not nice!
...May, the army marched
to reach the frontier
it's long but I can't remember it well.
Let's go and cut the bread...
and the cheese, too.
They keep better here.
I'll cut one now.
They caught some hail
at the top of Ferrand.
Benoît got soaked.
That's enough, Marisa.
The potatoes, they're not on yet...
Don't worry, we'll do it, there's time.
Right, everything's ready.
All right, Alberto?
We'd better move the chicken
so we can get it out...
My sister Marisa
is my little sister.
Because she's 8 years younger than me
and even now when I think of her
she's Mimì, Mimì means...
it's short for Marisa
but it's also a kiss
because I love her very much.
I didn't have the chance
to see and feel her grow, to know
what were, not her ambitions, but
her pleasures, her sorrows because
there were too many years between us
when I left for Annecy.
I was 13, and she was 6
We only saw each other
in the summer holidays, once a year
and sometimes for other holidays.
And to talk about her
I think if I had to compare her
to a tree
I'd choose a birch
because she's very fragile
she looks as if she's about to break
she worries about everybody
she's always there to help
people, to comfort them, she always
looks as if she's about to break, but
she picks herself up, I don't know how
but there's always a strength in her
you don't feel, you don't suspect.
She certainly hasn't got this strength...
I don't think she's drawn it like me
from the comfort of nature
she's certainly got a lot else I don't know of.
It's her secret, but I know it's there.
I think I've always seen Mother
worry about everybody
always afraid of an accident
afraid that somebody would get hurt
I think I'm as anxious as she is
I think I'm a bit like her.
But maybe she's a bit more cheerful than me
she really likes laughing
I'm a bit more reserved
I stand aside, I don't feel like talking.
I keep it all to myself.
I don't know why, but that's how it is.
I can't talk to people.
Not even in the family, for that matter.
If I have a problem, I keep it to myself
I sort it out on my own.
Sometimes it takes a while, sometimes
it goes away, sometimes it doesn't.
But I really can't express myself.
- Have you got everything? - Yes.
- Not Saturday, then. - Yes.
- Do you know that? - Yes, I know, not Saturday.
- Don't worry. - Carla might come.
- I don't know, and what if Father... - I might come Sunday morning.
That's settled!
You mustn't wait up till 11 pm
don't worry, I'll definitely let you know.
- Let's go. - If you see the girls, say hello to them.
Me and Sophie met
seven years ago.
We were together for two years
she met my grandmother, we split up
for two years, it was me who wanted it
but Sophie kept on going
to visit my grandparents...
She grew very fond of them
in fact, when we got back together
my grandmother used to say: Sophie
I told you you'd get back with Sylvain!
Now we're married and she said:
Sylvain, you're not to leave her again
stay with Sophie, be careful.
I married Liliane in '72
we lived together for 30 years
we had Stephan and Sylvain
we lost a little girl and
after 30 years, that's life, we separated
it's true it hurts also because
we'd built a lovely little house
and now it's all lost.
It's true it hurts.
Well, that's life.
You take the rough with the smooth.
But I'm happy for my children
and grandchildren, who all love me
and help us.
But now we're at the end
of the roll, as they say.
When you're over 80
you've got to go.
Yes, that's it. The story's over.
Crazy weather.
A bit of rain, a bit of sun, a bit of cold.
A shot.
The snow's going to come and then
René's going to come too, I think.
I have more memories
of houses in Paris than in Tréminis.
Because of my illness, I...
I was never with the others.
Because I couldn't play with them
what did I do? I read, lying
on a bench, I'd read all day.
Then I went off to boarding school
I came back for my operation.
And then at the lycée
it was '68.
I was the class representative
and this is why I sort of
fell out with some of teachers
and I was expelled
from school.
I had to find a palliative
to get a job
I had to, against my will, do
a course in mechanical design
I'd have preferred to design buildings
something artistic...
Now I believe that people
are victims... it's they
who hurt themselves.
They no longer have the will to fight
they have too much information
they think they can get by on their own
yet any collective, associative, action
is fundamental to any society, and
today I don't think anything associative
exists any more...
It's very, very hard.
Firms are disappearing
trade union life is dying away
just like the union spirit
it's another way of looking at life.
Everyone fights for their slice of meat
not realising... not taking any notice
of their friends, their workmates.
A film isn't enough to describe her.
She's something that no longer exists
you don't get her mould any more.
She's a real Sicilian mother.
She loves, she gives a lot
but she's very much in charge.
She thinks for other people.
But this is how we all like her.
Besides, it's her nature
you've got to let her be.
I sometimes listen to her, not often.
I live my life the way I want to
as she does hers.
After all, she's given us so much
that the little we're giving her now
is nothing compared to what she's given us.
We love her very much.
My name's Gaelle, I'm Marise's
daughter, Lucia's granddaughter
I'm 29 years old
I live in a small village near Voiron
35 km from Grenoble
I'm married, I've got a daughter
9 months old who's called Elena
I'm a teacher in a school in Voiron
a nursery-school teacher, I teach
3-year-olds, I'm also the headmistress
the school has 7 classes
with 160 children.
Me and my sister try to be
close to Mum often
to show her how much we love her and
to return the love she gives us each day
Elena has brought some sunshine into her life
she adores her granddaughter that loves her
she's there when you need her
she doesn't come annoying us when useless.
And also when I and my sister were kids
she never bothered us, never asked
who phoned, who wrote to us
she never went through our bags
and this was good.
It was great because we teenagers had
a secret life of our own, and this
was rather nice, compared to
my schoolfriends we were very lucky.
My gran is, like my mum and my aunt,
very anxious, stressed, everything scares her
I think this is because she
lived through the war, poverty.
That's why Gran believes you should
always put some money aside
be careful about everything
we feel a bit uncomfortable
we want to take advantage of life
we want to travel, not always
think about saving
Gran has suffered so much in her life
that she can't understand why
we squander our money.
But that's how she is.
She has, however, very much moved
with the times, with society, despite being
Italian, a Catholic, a fervent Catholic
she sometimes defends her ideas
besides, she believes in witches
it's got to be said, this is serious today
but she has become more open-minded
because when she was young
the role she envisaged of women
in the family and in society
was awful.
A woman looked after her children
the kitchen, a woman didn't work
even if Gran had to because
she needed the money.
For example, when we were all at Grand' s
my male cousins were entitled to do nothing.
They didn't have to lay the table
they didn't have to make their beds
they didn't have to touch a single saucepan
my God it was hell and damnation.
We girls had to do everything.
Growing older, though she has realised
that today women are forced
to work as hard as men.
She's changed her mind a bit
she now realises that
a woman is a person, how can I put it
a person in every respect, who has
the right to a working life
a family life, a social life
and suddenly she now criticises men
who don't help in the house.
It's a pretty radical change
compared to 15-20 years ago.
But I'm rather proud of her
because she's moved with the times...
I find she's amazing.
She's crying.
Shall we take off your babygro?
All right, then.
There's something not quite right.
Slowly does it, don't hit me.
Yes, you're right.
Your baby.
Your baby's lovely!
I agree.
This is what the little puppets do
they spin round three times
and then go on their way.
Are you giving Mummy a cuddle?
You're pinching me, that hurts!
You're jumpy.
What will you do? The little puppets?
This is what, this is what
the little puppets do
they spin, they spin round three times
and then go on their way.
I'll read the poem to you Paola
you know, the story of the tree trunk.
I had called it murderers
Murderers and princesses.
In the silence and in the thickness of its mane
the wood sketches out stories
of gold and of darkness.
Murderers and princesses prisons and castles
share out the pieces of a child's heart.
It was fear.
Here the mountain begs you to look.
The wood flushes out any artifice
The stream brings with it the storm
Here stone marries with wood
Man listens to the shade
and touches the light
Here stars rain down
to make the earth blush
and silences
to turn hell pale.
Thanks Delphine
I simply want to underline
the importance and quality of the work
you've presented today.
So I offer you my congratulations
and my very best wishes.
It's over.
I didn't take any photos in the hall...
I'm studying Pharmacy
I'm doing my thesis in Sciences
to complete my studies in Pharmacy
I discussed my thesis this morning
at the University of Lyon
on apoptosis and viral proteins.
My grandparents are like
a refuge for me
they're adorable people.
I spent all my holidays there
the best holidays I think of all my life.
They're very generous people
they've had lots of problems in their lives
and they've always overcome them.
They really are an example because
they set off with nothing, and managed
fairly well, in spite of everything.
They're remarkable people because
they're the proof that you can be happy
with very little, have a family, always
come up with new solutions
and what's important to me
is their simplicity, their strength.
Lots of kisses, Manine, bye.
Lots of kisses, Manina.
She's sweeter Marisa than Carla.
Carla isn't as sweet, is she?
She doesn't dare give me kisses.
We don't give many kisses and cuddles
we're not very expansive
we don't dare, it's not done.
- You were always sitting on my lap. - Well, perhaps.
Let's go and get the grub ready.
Come and give Gran a big kiss?
Tréminis is a very special place for us.
I need to go there regularly because it's all our
roots, all our memories, with our cousins.
We were very often there all together
all 8 grandchildren at our grandparents'.
I don't know how they managed to have
us all because it can't have been easy
we'd shout and make a terrible row
but it's full of memories.
Even on my father's side
I've got lots of cousins I really love
but I haven't got so many memories.
It's Tréminis. Tréminis is the nest.
It really is the family, it's special.
Tréminis is grandparents
as everyone imagines them, as in the books.
It's Nonna Lucia baking cakes
who'd let us lick the bowl
jams in the summer in the larder
it's less fun, but it's Tréminis.
Then there're all the happy memories
with our friends, it was full of kids of our age
we had a great time together
even if we had to be back by 10.30
because Gran called in the girls not the boys
but the girls had to be back by 10.30
A few years ago Grandad was very very ill
he spent three months in hospital
and we thought he was going to die.
I used to go to the hospital every day.
I was scared, scared of
losing him... but he recovered.
As nobody knew what he had
we saw him grow thinner and thinner
we thought he was going to pass away.
It was hard... but he's here.
Then he started to feel unwell.
Now is fine but he's not what he used to be.
I kept on going to visit him
we were afraid they'd call us
to say: It's over.
It might be a landscape in a fortnight.
Listen to the dawn that sifts...
Stone or dust?
I am the word
and you call me.
Here I am on your threshold
here you are at my door.
Am I stone or dust?
Listen to the dawn
which sifts the waters in the streams
to the noise it'll make
you'll know whether I am
straw or cement.
My passion, and I hope it'll also be my son's
is the mountains.
I started very young because
as a small I spent my holidays at Tréminis
in Trièves, at my grandparents'
and I was always roaming.
I used to walk in the woods.
As a teenager...
it was my uncle who took me with him
on his reconnaissance trips.
He's a hunter, when he goes to the mountains
he's always on the look-out for game
this meant I went on some great trips
I was happy when he took me with him
then I started to go by myself
and Grandad wasn't very happy
he'd tell me off when I got home
because the mountains are dangerous.
To love somebody
is certainly the most important thing
in order to face life
but I dread...
I'm independent enough...
I dread to think of locking myself
in a relationship, I dread this.
I need to...
look around every now and then, not live
in a permanently closed circle.
For a long time I don't travel, I need to
I want to... it's agony
I feel like taking off,
not necessarily with my partner.
I love him, but there are times when
you need to be on your own, to meet people
to learn other things from life.
I need to have my garden all of my own.
In present day society
travelling is a way of escaping it
a way of escaping from this pressure
from everything we see around us...
wars conflicts which are poisonous
people clashing with one another
the dominators, the dominated, and
then all the pressure from society
as we experience it nowadays.
The fact of always having to be
the first, the best, the most beautiful
the strongest, the most efficient.
It's a society I don't identify with.
Every evening I take this.
Cipì, stay there.
Then I cover her like this
like the dog.
And she stays there all night.
Where's Cipì? Where is she?
Aren't you coming to sit on my lap?
Not yet, are you?
My little dog.
It's sticking out its tongue, this long.
What are you telling Gran? Come on.
Do you understand?
Animals are more relaxed
happier than us.
They're always relaxed
and at peace. All animals are friendly
with each other.
They don't argue
like we do, if you argue
you hurt each other
jealousy makes you fall out
the spite we have.
Animals are more intelligent
and do their duty more than us.
My mother always told me not to bear
grudges, and I always try to follow
this advice she gave me when young.
After all, there's no need to hurt people
so much, because there's no point.
It's better to be more understanding
and to forgive. Only sometimes you can't
even forgive.
But that's life.
- Then we always come back. - We come back to Tréminis again.
to see Gran, Grandad...
who are old now.
- No! - Oh, yes, we are!
- No! A hundred more years. - A hundred more years?
- That's asking too much. - No!
Grandad is 88...
he won't make it to two hundred.
200 will be difficult. But he's strong.
My name's Pierre, I'm Carla's son
and so Lucia and Battista's grandson
I'm an engineer, I work for EDF
the electricity company
I live in Marseilles where I work.
We're here at Tréminis which is
for all the family for us grandchildren
where we spend our holidays, it still is.
It's the place we always go back to.
Where the whole family regularly meets up
for our holidays. It's our point of reference.
We weren't brought up
as if we'd been living in Italy
we're very French, I mean
but there are still some things
that come to us, we feel...
we're closer to... I don't know, perhaps
to meals, the fact that we eat
pasta, polenta, this is important
it's funny
but I realise when I'm speaking
to people who are Italian in origin
there's an immediate contact.
This is for the hens.
I'd put in these.
Silviana, with her husband.
with Mathieu.
Always the best!
It's Silviana who...
no, this one here's Benedetto's
and the other row's Silviana's with...
with Mathieu.
I did tell him off
he was walking on the carrots
then he had a hoe.
Come on, that's enough.
They're not many.
You'll put the leaves in the soup.
Isn't anything else missing?
And for the soup?
Yes, they're there. I've got two.
Take three.
I'll take them next time so I'll be back.
This is the last one.
- Should I wake Father? - No, don't wake him.
For your birthday... it's early, isn't it?
I'll see. I have the exhibition
in Bourgoin on 24 October, but
I can just take my paintings and leave.
- So for All Souls'. - Yes, for All Souls'.
We'll have to make do as for sleeping.
Well, come the following Sunday
for Sylviane's birthday and mine
on the 8th and 10th.
Yes, November.
And for Father
If there's a problem, I'll call you.
The party's over.
It's good for Carla too, to spend
a few days here with us.
She'll be happy.
Carla's a good, kind person.
What can we do?
It's a cross for everyone.
But the dog isn't here!
I don't know if René's taken him away.
I'm certain he has.
I haven't changed the water yet today.
The words go like this.
That hunter in the wood
met a young lady.
That hunter in the wood
met a young lady
so beautiful and sweet
that the hunter fell in love.
He led her very slowly
as far as the tree up there.
It was so pleasant and delightful
that the lovely girl fell asleep.
And when she woke, lifting
her eyes to heaven, she screamed:
Hunter, you've betrayed me!
And he says to her: I'm not a betrayer
I am the son of a great lord who
in the end will marry you. That's all.
She spoke very little. Just like me.
She did her work without any fuss.
She didn't have any time to waste.
Melanie asked me for some carrots.
Well, always the best for them.
When the hunting's on wife and husband
always disagree
what one wants, the other doesn't.
The wife's never happy.
The husband must always stay close to her.
That's true.
I'm not like that. He's always gone hunting
and I've never said anything.
Each takes his pleasure.
Some have their sport, others hunt
others go to the bar...
Hey, Jada? Coming?
It's sad for her, too
she doesn't go hunting any more.
They all want carrots!
Corinne, Gaelle, Melanie...
Corinne's following a carrot cure
the carrots from Tréminis.
She used to take them to Paris.
There's no end to this.