|制作/发行：Parc Film / Compagnie Française de Distribution Cinématographique (CFDC)|
Juliette: False love leaves me as I am. Time changes me and the person I love. Juliette: Words never say what I'm really saying. Juliette Janson: In my dreams I used to feel that I was being sucked into a huge hole. Now I feel I'm beng scattered in a thousand pieces. Before, even if it was a slow process, I would wake up all at once. Now I'm afraid there'll be pieces missing. Christophe: I had a dream last night, you know. I was walking all alone at the edge of a cliff. The path was only wide enough for one person. Suddenly I saw two twins walking toward me. I wondered how they would get past. Suddenly one of the twins went towards the other and they became one person. And then I realized that these two people were North and South Vietnam being united. Juliette Janson: Language is the house man lives in. Juliette Janson: Something may make me cry, but the reason for my tears is not contained in their traces on my cheeks. In other words, you can describe what happens what I do something, without necessarily indicating what makes me do it. Juliette Janson: To define myself, one word: indifference. Narrator: Where is the beginning? But what beginning? God created heaven and earth. But one should be able to put it better. To say that the limits of language, of my language, are those of the world, of my world, and that in speaking, I limit the world, I end it. And when mysterious, logical death abolishes those limits, there will be no question, no answer, just vagueness. Narrator: What is art? Form becoming style; but the style is the man; therefore art is the humanizing of forms. Narrator: There is increasing interaction between images and language. One might say that living in society today is almost like living in a vast comic strip. Narrator: How do you render events? How to say or show that at 4:10 p.m. that afternoon, Juliette and Marianne came to the garage where Juliette's husband works? Right way, wrong way - how can one say exactly what happened? Of course, there is Juliette, her husband, the garage. But are these the words and images to use? Are there no others? Am I talking too loud, looking too close? Narrator: Should I have talked about Juliette or the leaves, since it's impossible to do both at once? Let's say that both, on this October evening, trembled slightly. Juliette Janson: Thought meshes with reality or calls it into question. Robert: Well, we got there. Juliette Janson: Where? Robert: Home. Juliette Janson: So what now? Robert: We go to bed. What's up with you? Juliette Janson: And then? Robert: We wake up. Juliette Janson: And then? Robert: Same again. We'll wake up. We'll eat. Juliette Janson: And then? Robert: I don't know. Die. Juliette Janson: And then? Juliette Janson: I know they're my eyes because I see with them. I know they're not my knees or whatever, because I've been told so. Suppose I hadn't been told. How would life be? Narrator: Our thoughts are not the substance of reality, but its shadow. Juliette Janson: To define oneself in a word: not yet dead. Juliette Janson: I've changed and I'm still the same. Juliette Janson: Speak as though quoting the truth. Old father Brecht said that, that actors should quote. Narrator: Pax Americana: jumbo-sized brainwashing. Juliette Janson: We often try to analyze the meaning of words but are too easily led astray. One must admit that there's nothing simpler than taking things for granted. Juliette Janson: I don't know where or when, just that it happened. I have tried all day to recapture the feeling. There was a scent of trees. I was the world, the world was me. A landscape is like a face. Juliette Janson: No one knows what the city of the future will be like. Part of the wealth of meaning it once had will undoubtedly be lost, undoubtedly. Maybe the creative and formative roles of the city will be taken over by other forms of communication, maybe television and radio... Narrator: Objects exist, and if we pay them more attention than we do people, it is because they exist more than those people. Dead objects live on. Living people are often dead already. Robert: People never really talk in films. I'd like to try with you. Fan: What will communist ethics be like? Ivanov: The same as they are now, I expect. Fan: Meaning what? Ivanov: Look out for one another, work for one's country, love it, love the arts and science. Fan: What will the difference be then? Ivanov: It will be easier to explain when communism comes. Fan: Oh yes, I understand. It's money. It's a great evil, because you steal without realizing it. Ivanov: One must always be sensitive to the intoxication of life. Fan: Can I ask you another question? Is poetry formative or simply decorative? Ivanov: Everything that decorates life is formative. Martine: What have you been doing all day, clever? Robert: This morning I worked at my garage. Martine: Do you own it? Robert: No, I don't. Martine: Then why is it "my garage"? Robert: At "the" garage. Right. Martine: You're not listening. How do you know it's a garage? Are you sure the word isn't "swimming-pool" or "hotel"? Robert: I suppose it could be. Martine: Exactly. How do things get particular names?
: They're given them. Martine: Who by? Narrator: If you can't afford LSD, try colour TV.