Head In The Clouds Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Head In The Clouds script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the movie starring Charlize Theron, Penelope Cruz, and Stuart Townsend.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Head In The Clouds. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

Head In The Clouds Script



There she is.



Bonjour, madame. How much for a reading?



Three francs, dear,

and it's written on the door.



I'm sorry.



I cannot see.



- We've got to go. We're late.

- We'll miss the bus.



Thank you, madame.



What do you see?



I see your   th year.



Shut up.



That's the porter.



He spotted me as I was making my getaway.



These are first-year rooms, aren't they?



They're very luxurious.



The ones at Yale are like monk's cells.



"Aristotle and Virtue." Oh, God, I'm sorry.



- It doesn't matter.

- Of course it does. I ruined them.






It's getting heavier out there, huh?



- Do you mind if I stay here till it eases off?

- No. Of course you can.



- I go out with one of the dons.

- I know. Julian Ellsworth.



We just had an awful row.

I can't go back to his rooms.



I have to get out of these togs.



Excuse me.






It's completely stuck to me.



I don't mind if it tears.






Bless you.



I can't let you go out in this.

You can sleep in my bed.



But we haven't been introduced.



I'll sleep on the chair and keep watch.



That's very noble, but I wouldn't dream

of kidnapping your bed.



You're taking a terrible risk

having me here at all.



- Sorry.

- No. Don't apologize.



- I'm flattered.

- It doesn't normally...



I should hope it does.



- I'm Gilda Bessé.

- I know who you are.



- That sounds ominous.

- You're famous around here.



- Where are you from?

- Dublin originally.



- We moved up north after the Treaty.

- Why was that?



My father was a policeman.



And he was killed during the Troubles.



So are you British or Irish?



On paper, I'm British.

But I don't believe in countries much.



Nor do I.



- How did you end up here?

- I got a scholarship.



Beauty, bravery, and brains.



What a catch.



You also have a nice willy,

and I hope to dream about it.



- Good night, Guy.

- Good night.



We made it. I owe you my life.



You don't owe me anything. It was fun.



Everyone knew Gilda Bessé.



Her father owned

one of the big French champagne houses.



Her mother was a rich American socialite.



The marriage hadn't lasted...



and Gilda had lived most of her life

in the United States.



She was quite notorious at Cambridge...



and last night,

she had actually slept in my bed.



If anyone knew, I'd be a celebrity overnight.



Are you Guy Malyon?



- Yeah.

- Julian Ellsworth.



I'm incredibly grateful about the other night.

Gilda said you were a brick.



I really can't thank you enough.

You saved my bacon.



I'd have been dismissed and most likely

disinherited if they'd found her here.



Glad to have been of help.



Listen, we're having a bit of a beano

at the weekend.



Gilda wanted me to invite you.



Don't know

if you're much of a jitterbugger...



but the old man's away,

I'll have the run of the place.



You need a girl, of course.



I can line one up.



When I was a freshman,

I didn't know what girls were.



I'm afraid Mr. Ellsworth won't allow you in

unless you first drink one of these.



The password is "martini."



God, it tastes like paraffin!



One doesn't taste it, darling,

one simply swallows.



- New blood.

- Hello, old boy.



You girls should want to dance with me

this evening...



because Gilda has got herself

stranded in Calais.



- Poor Gilda.

- Do come through.



Calais is such a dreadful place.



- Hello, Guy.

- Hi.



Glad you could make it.



You're the troubled boy...



whose girlfriend

Julian is planning to monster.



- Are you sad?

- I'm thrilled for her.



You don't mind if she gets debauched?



So long as the debaucher's from a

fucking good family, I couldn't care less.



Do you imagine you're being

incredibly daring using words like that?



You should try them sometime.

It's good for constipation.



I'm going to feel so wicked in the morning.



What are you writing?



An ode to your tummy button.



- Gilda.

- Sir Knight.



- Don't go up there.

- Why shouldn't I go upstairs?



- There's an orgy going on.

- Sounds promising.



My partner for the evening's

the main course.



Your partner isn't Molly Twelvetrees,

by any chance, is she?



Yeah. She's in danger of catching a cold.



- Julian's writing a poem on her stomach.

- What a cad.



Don't you mind?



I feel sorry for Molly. He's a terrible poet.



You're very modern, aren't you?



I don't feel very comfortable here.



I feel guilty being around all this wealth.



It's just a game. Don't take it seriously.



It's not much of a game if you're out of work

and trying to feed a family.



Fortunately, I'm not.



And neither are you.



I only came here tonight to see you.



- There, I've said it.

- Good.



You look lovely.



You don't.



Your eyes are all red.

You look like a bloodhound.



You have excellent recuperative powers.



- What if someone comes?

- We were here first.



- Oh, God!

- Think Sunday School.



- What?

- Think Sunday School.



- Why?

- Because this is a team sport.



Thank you, Unwin.



- I thought it might be prudent to...

- Good idea.



Good morning, Unwin.



I thought we might have breakfast

on the terrace this morning.




What on earth are you doing down here?



Happy birthday, darling.



- Who's that?

- My friend, Guy.



You really had your hands full when I got in.



Gilda, he's a virtual primitive.



I know. He's the Piltdown man.

I'm planning to exhibit him.



- Julian, nothing happened.

- I don't for a moment think anything did.



Apart from us writing sonnets

all over each other.



All right. Do you mind getting up, please,

before anyone else sees you?



Be a darling and lend me

your dressing gown, would you?



Gilda, what have you got on under there?



Well, seeing it's your big day...



I'm wearing my birthday suit in your honor.



I thought for certain I would hear

that Gilda and Julian had broken up...



but nothing seemed

to have changed between them.



A few weeks passed...



and just when I'd resigned myself

to never being with her again...



something unexpected happened.



- The divorce was at least    years ago.

- Yeah, she must be devastated.



Can I join?



That's five shillings annual membership fee.



I read about your mother.

It must have been awful.



She was a stranger to me, really.



- But how have you been?

- Practicing my billiards.



I wanted to see you,

to tell you that I'm leaving England.






The wanderlust has got me. I want to travel.



Where will you go?



I loved the Arabian Nights

when I was younger.



Maybe I'll start there.



Would you like a traveling companion?



You have to finish your degree.



- Does Julian know?

- I'll leave him a nice letter.



You're the one friend from this chapter

I'd like to keep.



Three weeks later, Gilda left England.



And so began

our one-sided correspondence.



For she was never in one place long enough

for my letters to catch up with her.



After a year, she stopped writing.



By the time I graduated and began teaching

in the East End of London...



I'd managed to finally put her behind me.



Civil war had broken out in Spain...



and I was campaigning

for the Republican side...



in its increasingly desperate fight

against the Fascists.



Tiberius is in a bad mood!

Where are those slaves?



We'll see how brave you are

in the Coliseum.



Take away their drinking water.



I hadn't had a letter from her

for almost a year.



But Gilda always

had an uncanny sense of timing.



She was back in Paris...



telling me a whole new chapter of her life

was beginning...



and demanding I visit her.



Once more, nothing else in the world

existed for me.






Guy! You came! And so soon!



Well, you finally sent me an address.



Look at you. Suddenly you're a man.



I even shave now.



- How long can you stay?

- Only till tomorrow. I have to work.



That's ridiculous.

You have to stay for at least a month.



- You'll be able to see my show.

- What sort of show?



You'll see tonight.



I saw you in a film as a slave

in ancient Rome.



- Wasn't it ludicrous?

- How did you get the part?



I met an American cameraman

and went back to Hollywood with him.



At first I wanted to be an actress...



but then I got more interested in cameras.



I'd pick his brains in bed every night.



Are you married yet?



- Not quite.

- Good.



I'm sure you have a menagerie of admirers.



- So what do you do after work?

- I raise money for Republican Spain.



I forgot you had a conscience.



Max! This is Guy.



He just arrived from London.



Welcome to Paris.

Are you here for the opening?



He doesn't know anything about it,

so he'll be completely objective.






Where are you staying?



There's a hotel my friends like,

just around the corner.



He's staying here.



He and Mia can sing each other to sleep.






This is going to be incredibly glamorous,

isn't it?



And I'm going to be incredibly dowdy.



You're British. People expect it.



Do you mind?



So Max is a lover?



He owns the gallery.



Actually, he's good company...



but he's become

extremely proprietorial lately.



- He's on very thin ice.

- Then I hope it melts.



Don't sulk.



I didn't know you were coming so soon.



And anyway...



I'm sure you're not sleeping alone

in London every night.



Moments of yearning. Lust, vanity, and joy.



Loves won and lost.



It's an honor to be the first to host

the work...



of this gifted new photographer.



Finally, as a bonus,

may I present a living sculpture...



created especially for tonight?



The pictures were good of their kind.

But the sculptures were something else.



The trouble is we're never going

to see them again.



You should film them, Gilda.

Record them for posterity.



They need to be live,

so people can lean over...



and smell the skin of the models.



Does that worry you, Mia?



Having people sniffing around you

like dogs?



I'm a sculpture, so I ignore them.



What about you, Guy?



Have you seen anything like that

in England?



No, I haven't.



Guy thinks art should be political.



In London, he spends most of his time

campaigning for Republican Spain.



German artists spent the last    years

lampooning the Nazis...



and had no effect at all.



At least they tried.



Rather pointless if all they achieve

is a ticket to one of those camps.



And the satisfaction of knowing

they had the courage of their convictions.



Here's to judicious cowardice.



No. Here's to Mia,

whose beauty inspired us all.



You should model for Coco Chanel.

I could introduce you.



Mia's training to be a nurse.



She only models in her spare time,

and I have an exclusive contract.



But I do feel I've seen you before.

I never forget a face.



Perhaps you saw me at Le Grand Jeu.



So how do you carry on

your crusade for Spain?



Do you sit on a committee

and hand out pamphlets in the street?



And if you really feel so strongly...



why don't you enlist

in the International Brigades?



I plan to at the end of school term.



- Are you serious?

- Yeah, I am.



Well, the line must be drawn.



Fascism must be stopped

before it engulfs us all.



Good night.



- You've become so serious.

- The world has become serious.



We'll all die of gravity.



I'm sorry I can't be with you tonight.



- Do you even like him?

- Occasionally.



But I admit,

he's trying a little too hard at the moment.



Mia, get out of the bath!

You'll turn into a prune!



I take it Le Grand Jeu is a cabaret?



Burlesque. Striptease.



She came here with nothing.

She's my protégé.



I want the three of us to be friends.



Gilda, are you coming?



I'll see you in the morning.



This one's comfortable.



I used to sleep here when I first came.



- How long have you been here?

- Half a year.



Whereabouts in Spain are you from?



Asturias. In the north.



Don't be jealous. He's not special to her.



None of them are.



He wants you to hear.



He's afraid of her feelings for you.



Yeah, well, I'm afraid of mine for her.



- Who is it?

- It's me.



How dare you be so pathetically

melodramatic walking out on me like that?



What's there to drink? I'm bone dry.






- This is Linda.

- Hello, Gilda.



I'm sorry I woke you.



I got seasick on the boat...



and then I tried to eat something

to settle my stomach...



but the food in this country is awful.



- Is this a bad time?

- What do you think?



Does Max know you're here?



Max was being very boring about you,

so I expelled him.



I'm not going to let you go

and get yourself killed.



You'd probably come back

with your brain shot out.



Conversations would be

incredibly one-sided.



Now, get me a blanket

and you can go back to bed.



- What are you doing?

- I'm going.



She's sleeping in there.

I'm just getting her some bedclothes.



Guy, I was with you at the cinema.



After you saw her,

you hardly spoke the rest of the day.



And when you got her letter,

you couldn't get on a train fast enough.



I'm off.



- There's no need.

- I've got an early start in the morning.



And besides, I think I'm a bit in the way.



- You didn't ask her to leave, did you?

- No.



Seeing as she has,

I suppose I don't have to sleep rough.



You've no idea

how I adored you at Cambridge.



And when I arrived here,

nothing had changed.



It was miraculous.



I couldn't stand lying

on the other side of that door...



listening to you and your lover, though.

That was torture.



Don't worry.



I'm still in good voice.



By the time we're finished...



you'll be so conceited,

you'll be insufferable.



How do you like my tie?



It's perfect.



So how did you and Mia meet?



I saw her on the street.

Followed her to a café.



You choose people, don't you?

"Come into my life."



Sometimes you see complete strangers,

but there's something special about them...



and you think,

"I should really try and talk to them...



"because I'll never see them again,"

but you don't...



because it's not done.



But it's all fated, anyway.



It had to be your room

I came into that night in Cambridge.



What do you mean?



The whole room was familiar.

I'd seen it before in dreams.



It probably reminded you of some place

you've been before.



We just think we've dreamt things.



You're so complacent!



The mind isn't a physical thing

like the rest of the body.



Maybe it can jump forward in dreams.

Maybe it doesn't have to obey physical laws.



But if my room was already there...



then that would mean

everything was fixed in advance.



You think I was being spontaneous...



but I was always going to do that.



Just as I was always

going to win this argument.



That's what I learned at school.



I've got to work out what I'm going to do.



- Resign from your teaching for a start.

- And what do I live on?



- I'll give you a job as my assistant.

- How's the pay?



Good bonuses.



I listen to them every night.



- Do we keep you awake?

- She can sleep through anything.



She has amazing conversations in her sleep.

Three or four people.



Sometimes speaking different languages.



So, do you accept?



You odious little boy. How's that?



Now the horrible little girl

has turned around.



Hello. We're just off to the pictures.



So, Guy...



you have forsaken London

for the City of Light?



It seems so.






- Change in here.

- Why?



He came to the exhibition.



He won't be seeing anything

he hasn't seen before.



You were part of my sculpture.

You're flesh and blood now.



What are you doing

going out with him, anyway?



I'm curious.



You know what they say about him.



You should hear what they say about you.



Your dresser has excelled herself.



- So you're having dinner afterwards?

- We haven't decided.



- What time should I bring her back?

- Shut up.



- See you both later.

- Bonsoir.



You're a very lucky man,

living with two beautiful women.



But Gilda still doesn't approve of me.



Sometimes I think she's jealous.



You seem to have a calming influence

on her.



She used to move in wild circles,

but I'm sure you know that.



- And you don't care.

- No, I don't.



Very commendable.

The past and the future are irrelevant.



The moment is everything.



You know, at first I thought

you were an idealist, a bore.



But you're one of us, after all.



Tell me, as one man to another...



what does Gilda like in bed?



As one man to another?



That's none of your business.



Come on, Mia. Dance for us.



- Please?

- It's Christmas.



- Come on.

- All right.



Why not?



What are you two talking about?



- You.

- And what are you saying?



What are you saying?



It's past  :  .

We've almost lost Christmas Day. Come on.



I'm starving.



An American turkey made an ill-starred

bid for freedom at Whipsnade Zoo today...



only to touch down in the

arctic fox enclosure with mixed results.



A happy ending for the fox,

less so for the turkey.



The weather in...



I'm sorry. I don't understand a word.



You don't need to.



If an animal made those sounds,

you'd know it was evil.



All he's saying is that

when Greater Germany is restored...



he'll have no other territorial claims.



And you believe him?



I used to paint pictures of all these places

when I was home from boarding school.



- Can I see them?

- I threw them all away.



I had no talent of my own.

I just wanted to be van Gogh.



- Bonjour, Françoise.

- Bonjour, mademoiselle.



What are you doing, Father?



I am saving the lives of insects.



I've never seen you so compassionate.



I don't like the popping sounds they make.



Why are you wearing your uniform?



There was a rally in Rheims,

the Croix-de-Feu.



Our Popular Front is not

quite so popular here in the country.



The world is veering towards Moscow...



which is a little worrying

for us minor landowners.



But politics has never been

one of my daughter's stronger points.



Take your feet off the couch.



- Charles Bessé.

- Guy Malyon.



You'll be joining us for dinner?



Guy recently moved here from England.



So, how's the acting?



I only did that one film.

It was never going to be a career.



Whatever next? I can't keep up with her.



First it was dance,

and her room was full of ballet.



Then she discovers Stendhal, and,

of course, she wants to be a great novelist.



And then there was what, painting?



One thing I learned from you, Father,

was never to dwell on one's mistakes.



- Where's my stepmother?

- She's probably out walking the dogs.



What happened to that Max fellow?



A light of other days.



I sired a dilettante,

in every aspect of her life.



That's why I resent you,

for bequeathing me such superficial genes.



They say a winemaker's taste

is the last of his senses to desert him.



But Gilda tells me

that you're not much interested in wine.



- I was brought up on Guinness.

- We drink Guinness in France.



- Very good for an upset stomach.

- The old hair of the dog.






Why, Gilda,

you're looking very fetching tonight.



She likes to startle me

by wearing her mother's things.



I think she intends to make me feel guilty.



You see,

she blames me for her mother's death.



I don't blame you, Father.



Fate deals some people a rotten hand,

that's all.



Fate is an excuse for people

who suffer a failure of nerve.



- So it was her fault, was it?

- No, not at all.



It's absolutely and completely my fault.

I am an insensitive brute.



You see, darling? You married a beast.



I married a beast because I'm a huntress.



And if I can't tame you, I'll shoot you.



Then I must mend my ways.



Isn't your birthday coming up soon, dear?



Now, we must do something

to celebrate this year.



You know I never celebrate my birthdays.



If you're afraid of birthdays already,

you'll be a wreck when you're my age.



I can't imagine ever being that old.



Thank you, Gilda.



There's something about that house

that turns me into a monster.



I didn't like his politics,

but I enjoyed the repartee.



He ends up humiliating all his women.



You saw her, how hard she was trying.



All he wants her for

is to show her off to his shooting friends.



Mia, we're back.



That bastard.



- You don't have to go to work today.

- I'm all right.



I'm all right.



- Should we tell the police?

- She was a striptease dancer.



They'd say she asked for it.



- Then I'll go round and see him myself.

- And end up in a cell?



He has powerful friends.



Lucien? Gilda Bessé.



Mia doesn't know I'm calling.



She got a little carried away the other night.



Yes, that's right.



I like it the way you do.



And I'm stronger than she is.



- I thought we should meet.

- I see.



- Guy?

- Yeah?



Max wants to have lunch today.

He wants to talk about another exhibition.



- Do you mind?

- No, of course not.



You should take Mia to a film or something.

She needs to get out.



- That's a good idea.

- Maybe a comedy.



I thought you might change your mind.



My English friend tells me

I'm very stubborn.



- I assume he doesn't know where you are?

- No one does.



Perhaps I should lock the door.



Why did you decide to become a nurse?



I wanted to be a dancer.



My father was a coal miner. An anarchist.



Our house was full of politics all the time...



but I would always be running away

to dance.



Two years ago, they declared

a Socialist Republic in Asturias.



A house in our street became a hospital.



I tried to help, but I didn't know anything.



And people were...



dying in my arms.



And then the soldiers came.



I tried to stop them from taking my brother,

and that's when they hurt my leg.



After that, I knew I couldn't be a dancer.



And I wanted to help people.



So that's why I am becoming a nurse...



and why I need to go back to my country.



- Hello.

- How did it go?



- It was fine.

- You're doing another exhibition?



We played around with a few different ideas.

I did most of the talking.



Why are you two looking so miserable?

Trois cognacs.



We saw a newsreel on Spain.



You were supposed to be cheering her up.



It was my idea.



We wanted to see what else was going on

in the world.



There will always be wars...



while there are people dying to be martyrs.



Go on. Say how guilty you feel.



Afterwards, we sat out in the gardens.



I'm serious.

You need to get it out of your system.



Because you feel guilty

that life is good here...



while terrible things are happening there.



After you've talked about it, you'll feel

better because you've shown you care.



To you...



for getting rid of that vile man.



And you...



for getting rid of your guilt.



- To us.

- To us.



You live in a cocoon.

You don't think about the world outside.



I give my allegiance to those around me.



We share the world,

whether we like it or not.



You can share my bed as long as you don't

bring your newsreels or newspapers into it.



Marry me.



- What?

- I'm serious.



If I woke one morning

and you'd turned into a husband, I'd flee.



How would it be any different?



Once people get married, they stop trying.



- Anyway, you would want to have children.

- One day.



You should have one with Mia.

He'd be beautiful.



Sometimes you say the first thing

that comes into your head.



Should I censor what I say?



If I had a child, I'd have it with you.



My mother was mad. You've met my father.

I have doomed genes.



You talk such nonsense.



What's wrong?



Things are getting worse in Spain.

There are friends of mine there now.



And you want to go get yourself killed, too,

in someone else's war?



It's not someone else's war.



It's as much ours

as if it was happening here.



We all share the same world.



Any trained nurses they'll take at once.

I've got an address for you to go to.



Who'll take any trained nurses at once?



I'm going to Spain.



I didn't want to say anything

until it was definite.



And it's time for me to go back, too.



They need nurses there.



We've been living together for a year.



Am I such an ogre that you can't even

discuss your plans with me?



I didn't see much point.



You didn't see much point in talking about

throwing away your life?



And taking Mia with you?



I was always going to go back

once I became a nurse.



You would just never listen.



Of course. I should have seen it coming.



You feed each other's guilt.



It's like a disease.



Thank God it hasn't infected me.



Gilda's father was traveling in America...



and as a kind of farewell,

we spent the last week at the Chateau.



The sense of our departure

hung over every moment...



though it was never mentioned again

until the last day.



I can't drink any more.



Yes, you can.



We're drinking for all those times...



we won't be able to drink together again.



There'll be periods of leave

when I can come back to Paris.



I wouldn't want to see you

if you came back with some hideous injury.



Come on, we're still drinking.

You're not going to sleep.



- Wake up.

- I'm tired.



Gilda, you're drunk.



Why do you have to go as well?















Poor bastards. They didn't stand a chance.



My dear Gilda...



yesterday, in an ambush

behind the enemy lines...



I killed a young Nationalist soldier.



How inadequate those words seem.



He was clutching a locket when he died...



with a photograph of a young woman.



I suppose, as I write this,

she's waiting for news of him...



hoping against hope he is safe.



Dearest Gilda...



still no word from you,

which breaks my heart.



I know that to you all wars are useless...



and for us to risk our lives is a betrayal...



of ourselves and of you.



But my country's a part of me.



And if I was not here,

I would be betraying myself...



and even more, my brother.



Believe me...



my being here does not mean

I love you any less.



Forgive me if you can...



and know that I think of you all the time.



I wonder if you are writing to either of us.



But I do beg you, at least, to write to Guy.



His unit is at Teruel...



where the fighting is especially bitter...



and made worse by the intense cold.



I can't stay.

We're operating in a few moments.



I know.



We treated men from your unit

a few days ago.



- That's how I knew you were here.

- I asked about you.



They said you have no nerves.



You're always the quiet one

in the center of the storm.



If I am, it's because I'm too tired

to be frightened.



When do you finish your shift?



We never know. Where are you tonight?



Not far from here. It's an old tannery.



I know it.



If I can, I'll come.



- You must be dead on your feet.

- No. I have a secret weapon.



It's strong enough to help you forget

what you've seen during the day.



Have you heard from her?



I've had other letters, but none from her.



And you?






Why won't she write?



She loves you more than she'll ever admit.



And one day you'll be together again,

I know it.



These last few days, I've been asking myself

if any of this is worth it.



Perhaps she was right.

The world should be left to look after itself.



- You know you don't believe that.

- But what are we achieving?



With the Germans and the Italians

on their side, it's only a matter of time.



In that time, maybe the rest of the world

will begin to realize what's happening.



- You were always the sensible one.

- Was I?



Not in my choice of men, remember?



We should try to sleep.



You know, Gilda once said

we two should have a child.



You know she and I were lovers?



I knew underneath.



I wanted to tell you,

but she always said you were too British.



She was probably right.



Those were the happiest times of my life...



the three of us together.



And you and I came here.



We had no choice.



How can I be so tired...



and still feel jealous?



I was jealous of you all the time.



She'd be pleased.



Everything needs her blessing.



- Here's your lift.

- My doctor friend.



He's convinced I'm some kind of saint

because I never go with anyone.



He was so relieved when I said

I wanted to come and see you.



He insisted on giving me a lift himself.



I finally got rid of my halo.



There is no second sight.



We grope towards our future blind.



It's kinder that way.



On the morning of her final day,

she came to her death clear-eyed...



brave, unknowing.



And when the snow melts, spring has come.



There is an end to war.



One small flower...



blessed, unique...



will flower no more.






I have to tell you

that our dear friend is dead.



I saw her just before it happened.



She was so beautiful...



and had become so wise.



Far stronger than me.



A few months later, as the forces

of the Republic began to disintegrate...



I crossed back into France

with the remnants of my unit.



All our efforts had come to nothing.



The war in Spain was lost.



I am speaking to you

from the Cabinet Room...



at    Downing Street.



This morning,

the British Ambassador in Berlin...



handed the German government

a final note...



stating that unless we heard from them

by   :  ...



that they were prepared at once

to withdraw their troops from Poland...



a state of war would exist between us.



I have to tell you now...



that no such undertaking

has been received...



and that consequently...



this country is at war with Germany.



The war against the Fascists in Spain

was only a rehearsal.



The greater struggle was about to begin.



Less than a year later...



Poland, Norway, Holland, Belgium,

and France were overrun...



and the Germans entered Paris.



I doubted I would ever see her again.



My war was in the field of intelligence.



And early in     ...



I was sent to establish links

with Resistance fighters...



based in the countryside near La Manche.



In the late spring, I was transferred to Paris.



Six long years had passed

since I was last there.



My cover was as an official working

for a firm manufacturing rolling stock...



for the hard-pressed French railways.



And some time after I arrived,

I was waiting for a rendezvous.



Did she see me? I wasn't sure.



But after the initial shock,

how could I be surprised?



Gilda didn't see the world as others did.



She was looking after herself...



making sure she could live

in the style she was accustomed to.









Three mornings I sat across the road

waiting for you.



You mustn't come again.



He could come here at any time,

and everyone watches.



They'll have seen you

come into the building...



the patron and his wife from the café.



Yeah, well, they don't think

much of you there.



- Of course not.

- And you don't care?



Did I ever care what people thought of me?



I'd like to believe that

once you cared what I thought.



Why, Gilda? Why this?



I never much liked my own company,

you know that.



Yeah, but with one of them?



It's just a game.



Not now.



I'm glad you're alive.



You know about Mia?



She loved you, you know?



As much as I did.



You should go.



We could leave Paris.



Make our way to the coast.

I have the papers.



Don't be absurd.



Are you in love with him? This German?



Or is it just a convenience?



A business arrangement, like with Max?



For the duration of the exhibition?

The duration of the war?



Go out the back way.



When we were making love just then,

you felt it as strongly as I did.






Our bodies were always good together.



Forget about me, Guy...



as I have you.



You're out of my life now.



Hello, sir.



When they told me you'd been sitting

at a café three mornings in a row...



I didn't believe them.



Now I find it's because

you were waiting to see an old girlfriend.



A girlfriend who happens to be

hobnobbing with a German officer.



Do you realize the risk you're taking?

The risk you're taking with all of us here?



You're lucky you didn't

wake up with your throat cut.



Did you know she was involved

with a German?



Yes, sir.



- And yet you still went to see her?

- I've known her a long time.



I've a good mind

to have London pull you out.



They won't have it, because there's no one

with your credentials...



can come in at this short notice.



- I won't be seeing her again.

- lf you do, I'll kill you myself.



You're so beautiful.



It was the right size, yes?



I feel very special.



One day, I will get you stockings.



- When the war is over.

- When the war is over.



I want to speak your language.

You promised you'd teach me.



But we have our own private language,

you and I.



And when the Allies win the war...



we'll all be speaking English in our sleep.



To think, if I had been at Cambridge

one year later...



we might have met then.



Here we go again.



You seem a little far away tonight.



I'm here.



I wonder who's getting it tonight.



You were good at the meeting.



You got it just right.



I'm sorry I followed you that day.



No, you had every reason.



I know what it's like to love someone.



Thank you.



Why do you let them insult you?



If our roles were reversed

and this was Berlin...



you'd find yourself doing the same.



And expect to be punished.



I'm angry because...



I don't want anything to spoil tonight

of all nights.



- Why tonight?

- Because...



Because it's your birthday.



You've always refused to tell me,

my darling.



And I know it's a woman's prerogative...



but I wanted to know so we could celebrate.



Forgive me, I checked your papers.



My puppet, you're upset?



But why? Thirty-three.



I thought    at most.



Open it. Please?



So we're on standby.



Go down to the lavatories

and put on the clothes there...



my love.



They picked up the man

you were meeting, Bisquet.



How did you...



There's a bicycle outside.

You have about two minutes.



Remember Cambridge? The next morning?



- How I dressed like a boy?

- Gilda.



I had no idea it would be you.



Give me    seconds.



- What happened?

- Bisquet was picked up last night.



We just found out.



- Who tipped you off?

- The woman I went to see.



This is a surprise.

I thought you were on alert.



We've been stood down.

There's a storm in the Channel.



No invasion in this weather.



How was your day?



Puzzling. Frustrating.



But not anymore.



I was elated. In some way, somehow,

she was on our side.



Before I could even think

of finding a way to see her...



events on a greater stage overtook us:






For a few days I was looked after

by the priest.



And then I was flown back

to hospital in England.



I still had no clear idea

of Gilda's involvement in the Resistance.



All I knew was that in spite of everything...



when the war was over,

we would be together again...



as Mia had foretold.



The Major will see you now, sir.



Just wait here for a moment, please.



- Long time, Guy.

- It is, sir.



The first contact didn't come from our side.

She approached us.



In fact, it was more than a year

before I discovered who she was.



When I realized it was Gilda...



I was as surprised as I'm sure you were.



Although I suppose you knew her

better than I ever did.



Her first lover

worked in Stülpnagel's offices.



She copied documents from his briefcase

with a miniature camera.



She's good with cameras.



Then passed them on through her contact

in a beauty salon.



The intelligence officer she's with now

is much more circumspect.



But one tip-off she gave us...



saved an entire escape line from infiltration.



And when you went to see her,

you were putting all that at risk.



Why didn't she tell me?



You know why.

If you were caught and tortured...



It wasn't just for your own good.



Paris is in chaos.



The Resistance is trying

to liberate the city themselves...



and there's no possible justification

for sending you back there.



But she is very resourceful,

as we both know.



I wouldn't worry about her too much.



It's not the Germans I'm worried about.



Of course, if you were to go

of your own accord...



I wouldn't do anything to stop you.



- You got my message?

- I'm not coming with you.



Have you seen the people out there?



I'll be all right if I stay here.

When the Allies come...



Why will you not come with me?

I can take you to Germany.



I know it won't be easy,

but at least you'll be safe.



I don't love you, Frans.



Oh, God!






Well, my love,

I'm trying to make sense of things...



of how I was, and how I am now.



Well, my love,

I'm trying to make sense of things...



of how I was, and how I am now.



I have always believed

our first duty is to ourselves...



to live life to the full.



But I have also been haunted

by another conviction...



that everything is preordained,

lying in wait...



and time is running out.



I seem to have charged through my life

in a kind of panic.



And looking back...



I feel I have achieved little of worth

beyond our friendship:



yours and mine, and Mia's.



Then one day I woke...



and found I had lost

the two people I cared for most.



Only then did I begin to realize that

we cannot live alone, aloof from the world...



and that to believe we cannot fight

against fate is an act of surrender.



You were right when you said that

once I cared for your opinion of me...



but wrong in thinking I ever stopped caring.



I love you.

Special help by SergeiK