Jean De Florette Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Jean De Florette script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Claude Berri movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Jean De Florette. 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.

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Jean De Florette Script



Uncle Papet, it's me... Ugolin!



It's me.



Oh, it's you, Galinette!

You're back.



- Yes.

- Wait. I'm coming!



No, just throw me the key!



I'll be right down.



What a surprise!



- You're out of the army!

- Yes.



Come, eat something.



I'm not hungry. We drank

all night in Marseilles, so...



Come for supper and we'll talk.



Okay. See you tonight.



No, that's enough.



She's asking if you want more.






When I die, you'll live here.



The Soubeyran farm will be yours.



Meanwhile, you should fix up

your place up there.



Later you'll be able

to rent it to a farmer...



or leave it to your kids.



- For that, I'd need a wife.

- So?



There are plenty of girls

around here...



who'd jump to marry

a Soubeyran.



There's Chabert's daughter.



I bet if you wanted to...



I have no mule...

I'm using yours.



I have no hens or goats...

they're too much trouble.



I don't wear socks...

they itch.



So why would I need a wife?



What about love?



When I'm in Aubagne, I drop in

on those girls. That clears my mind.



For    francs a month,

I can choose any girl.



That's all I need.



You don't want to end up

a bachelor like me.



Before I die, I want to see

a child of yours.



Why didn't you ever get married?



Before I think of marriage,

I'd better think of work.



Do you have any plans?






I have an idea for you.



I thought it all out.



I figured out everything,

including the costs.



What is your idea?



To restore the Soubeyran orchard...



to the way it was

in my father's prime.



Two hundred fig trees,

two hundred plum trees...



two hundred almond trees...



a thousand trees...



planted in rows,    feet apart.



It'll be like a cathedral...



and every farmer will make

the sign of the cross.



Listen, Papet...



we already have too many plums,

peaches, apricots.



We end up feeding them to the pigs.



I have another idea.



You're my only relative, Galinette.



You can tell me

if you need my help.



What is your idea?



It's a secret.






Is that you, Papet?



You can't keep living like this!



You're holed up like a caveman!



This house is a pigsty!



And it stinks like a dung heap!



What's going on?



Tell me!



Don't get excited.

I'll show you something.



This is your big secret?



That's how you spend your time?



What'll you give me for them?



- Real beauties.

- They're Imperials.



- Good stems.

- How much?



Well, if this was February...



I'd have offered you...






But the season's almost over.



Still, they're worth...






All right?



Yes, all right.



You were right, Galinette.

You'll be growing flowers.



Why was it such a secret?



I wanted to try it out first,

to see if the soil is right.



Once they bloomed,

I knew you'd be impressed.



The flowers didn't impress me.



The florist did.



- What'll it cost?

-      .



- You've got it.

- You're too generous!



Not really. It's not for you.



It's for all Soubeyrans,

buried ones and future ones.



If its nose was where its tail is,

I would die!



Like us!



- Something's bothering me?

- What?



The water.



What water?



A carnation plant

drinks like a fish.



For my     plants,

I shredded my hands hauling water.



Install a cistern with a pump.



It'll be empty in four days

if we water     plants.



That is a problem.



We should dig a big reservoir...



that would collect

all the rainwater.



It may not rain one year!



No. We must find a field

near a natural water source.



I wonder...



What if we buy Bouffiigue's field

and his spring...



up at Romarins?



Does that spring still have water?



My father said it dried up.



It's more than half blocked up.



When I was young,

it was a lovely stream.



Old Camoins grew cartloads

of vegetables there.



I bet we could unblock it

with a pickax.



You think he'd sell his farm?



Not the house.



But maybe the field

and the spring.



He never uses them.

Maybe, if we offer him money...



How are you, Marius?



None of your damn business.



Why are you nasty?

Are you mad at me?



Neither mad nor glad.

I've got no use for you.



Maybe you feel that way, but I don't,

since I'm here to see you.



If you climbed all this way,

you want something.



Right. But I also

want to give you something.



I don't need anything.



Not even talk.

It gets on my nerves.



Just listen to me, Marius.



If you sell me your property...



not the house,

just the field and the hill...



just name your price.



What nerve! You think

I'd sell my property?



Look. Thousand-franc bills.



Go to hell!

Goddamn you Soubeyran pigs!



Don't yell like that,

or you'll choke.



And don't insult the Soubeyrans,

or you'll regret it!



He's only kidding.



Why is that half-wit mixing in?



I'll get down and show you

what I think of the Soubeyrans!



Lousy bastards! Pigs! Thieves!



Come down here!



Lousy bastard! Come down!



He'd better not croak!



Why not?



Someone could die

from falling out of a tree.



So much for my carnations.



Too bad. It was a perfect spot.



If he doesn't wake up,

his heirs will sell the farm.



We could buy it cheap.



- Let's finish him off.

- No. Maybe someone saw us.



You see, Galinette...



never lose faith in Providence.



Why don't you shave him

in his bed?



I don't shave anyone who is horizontal.

Not even a corpse.



But where are those two going?



It's over here. See?



The spring was by the fig tree.

Don't turn around!



Old man Camoins

had dug a ditch...



that led down to the end

of that field there.



That way the water just ran

downhill by itself. Understand?






See the soggy ground

around my foot?



The water's blocked, but it's there.

It's easy enough to...



To think he threw away

this gold mine.



Wait! Wait!



Once, before he went nuts...



he said, "My gun is my only friend.

I want it buried with me."



A dead man's wishes are sacred.



Did you check if it's loaded?



I never thought of it.

You can't tell with a Hammerless.



I bet it's loaded with buckshot.



He always kept it loaded

on account of the wild boars.



It could be dangerous.



It has a hair trigger.

A sudden wind could set it off.



- Maybe he set the safety?

- Not him.



- So, you're the heir.

- No.



We were only distant cousins.



But you will get something.



No. It all goes

to his sister Florette.



- Is she still alive?

- Why not? She's younger than you.



Her husband died, but she's alive.



Who's this Florette?



Florette de Berengere,

old Camoins' daughter.



The pretty one.



Your uncle knew her well.

Right, Cesar?



- Where is she?

- In Crespin.



She married Lionel,

who was the blacksmith there.



Were you at her wedding?



No, I was far away

in an African military hospital.



I returned a year later.



I'll write to tell her

of her brother's death.



If she's alive,

she'll claim the inheritance.



She's the heiress.



- Not much to inherit.

- I don't agree.



The house is still in good shape.



Plus fifty olive trees

from before the war.



They're sick! They're dying out!



They just need a tickle

with the pickax.



Sure. Then they'll die laughing.



It never rains on that land.



You hear the storms,

you see the storms...



but before the clouds get there,

they split up...



and it pours on the other side.



- The valley side only gets some drops.

- Maybe so.



You may not know

Bouffiigue's land has a spring.



- It had a tiny spring.

- No, it was a beauty!



When I was a kid

my dad showed it to me.



It seemed like a river to me.



Either you were tiny,

or it had just rained...



because when I saw it    years ago,

it was as thin as my finger.



Could a spring like that disappear?



I know all about springs.



They're like pretty girls.

Neglect them, and they're gone.



Last year I saw a fig tree there.

That proves there's water.



- There was water.

- But there are new shoots!



You know about mixing drinks,

but you know nothing about springs.



I say this one is dry!



I say the olive trees are dead

and the soil is rotten!



And I say I wouldn't take that land

if you gave it to me!



I haven't written for years.



- To whom are you writing?

- To Grafignette.



Who's that?



You don't know her.

She left before you were born.



When the boys tried to kiss her...



she'd scratch their faces...



with her pointed fingernails.



That's how she ended up

an old maid.



Later she left to work

for the priest at Crespin.



She was Florette's best friend.



She'll be able to tell me

about her.



I made an important decision.



- I'll go see Florette in Crespin.

- No, you won't.



If she knows you want her land,

she'll triple the price.



And if she knows it's for us,

she'll refuse.



- Why?

- That's the way she is.



What can we do?






Florette won't come back.



As a young woman, she loved money.



She's probably worse now.



So she'll sell,

but no local farmer will buy.



They own too much land already.



- A stranger might buy it.

- What the hell for?



To grow vegetables or flowers,

like me!



- Without water?

- There's the spring.



- What if there was no spring?

- But there is one!



You'll never learn.



Here's my plan.



It's already half stopped up.



- An accident could shut it completely.

- What accident?



Suppose you walk by

with a load of cement.



You trip, you fall and... bang!



Your cement plugs up the opening.



Here it is!



Good God! It's icy!



Hurry up, you idiot!



Here's the hole!

Give me the plug!



No! The little one!



There's a root stuck here.



That's enough.

I'll have to unplug it later.



I heard something.

In the house.



That's not Bouffiigue's ghost.

It's only rats.



"Dear Cesar...



You always amaze me.



After some    Christmases,

you write asking me about Florette...



and your letter arrived

the day she died.



I had just been laying her out.



That's why

I didn't answer sooner.



I don't think

she left much money.



Her husband died six years ago...



and she lived on what he left.



In any case, her son will inherit.



His name is Jean Cadoret

and he must be about   .



He's a tax collector,

but I don't know where.



The notary will surely

locate him.



Tax collectors are never

hard to find.



He's married...



but, unfortunately,

by God's will...



he's a hunchback.



What if some villager

tells him about the spring?



That's unlikely.



The villagers here don't mix

into other people's business.



And the way

you wrecked that house...



would make any farmer

sit down and cry.



You're right!



He'll sell it.



He'll sell.



A pen makes less blisters

than a pickax.



A farmer may grow a hump, but

a hunchback rarely becomes a farmer.



Who would have thought...



that Florette would give birth

to a hunchback?



Well, what do you think?



Look at these giant thistles...



those olive trees,

that wild rosemary.



My God, it's beautiful.



What did I tell you?



It's ancient Provence,

Zola's Paradise!



It's even lovelier than Paradise!



Try sliding it down.



Hello, folks!



Would you like some help?



And how! We wondered how

to unload this one piece.



- You're very kind.

- Let's give it a try.



Thank you.

Are you from Aubagne?



I'm from Bastides,

but I live nearby.



You passed my house

on the way up.



So, we're neighbors.



Almost. I'm Ugolin Soubeyran.






- We'll need four men for this!

- How did you lift it?



We loaded the empty crate,

then put the tools in.



And now we'll do it

the other way around.



I have enough tools here

for a nice little workshop.



Your wife sings beautifully.

It sounds even better than in church.



She has charmed many listeners.

She sang operas.



- In public?

- Yes, in concert halls.



That was years ago.

Today my voice is half gone.



It must have been fantastic!




She triumphed as Manon.



That's why we call

our daughter Manon.



It's a great spot.



A tough climb, but it's worth it.



It's heaven on earth.



Is that why you rented

this old farm?



- I didn't rent it.

- Did you buy it?



I didn't buy it either,

but it's my home.



Are you Jean de Florette?



My name is Jean,

and my mother was Florette.



But my name is Jean Cadoret.



If you'd been born here,

we'd call you Jean de Florette.



What a lovely title for a song,

or even a light opera!



You knew my mother?



No, but I knew her brother Bouffiigue.

We were good friends.



I'll drink to Mother Nature,

to these fragrant hills...



to the cicadas, the breeze,

to the age-old rocks.



I drink to the blue sky.



To your health.



Damn! They always do that to me!



I'll be back tomorrow.



Damn beasts!



I guess you folks are here

for a little holiday.



A holiday that will last

until I die.



I'll live in the shade of these pines,

in peace and bliss...



for as long as God

grants me life.



That sounds nice,

but how will you get water?



We have a cistern here.



It's small. Without rain,

you'll be out of water.



I also inherited a spring.



A spring? Where?



It's marked

on a surveyor's map.



I'll show you.

Maybe you can help me.



This little circle is a well,

or a spring.



Where's the rosemary patch?






The spring is about a mile away,

at the end of that valley.



That's ours too.



I know the place!

It's beyond that hill.



It's a steep climb

up to the spring.



The water's good, but the stream

is as wide as my thumb.



I hope it's not far.



At least an hour's walk.



We'd only need to go

once a week.



It'll be our Sunday walk!



A Piedmontese lumberjack

and his wife live in the grotto.



The wife is sort of a witch.

She knows everything.



They're nice, they're clean.

But if it bothers you, they'll leave.



God forbid! If they're happy there,

I won't chase them away.



We'll go there soon.

This water problem is serious.



There's no rush.



Right now my well is full so you

can come by for a bucket or two a day.



A generous offer

that I gratefully accept!



You're wondering why

I decided to settle here.



Yes, I'm wondering.



It's because I've decided...



that my happiness lies

in returning to nature.



I'm here to cultivate

the authentic!



The "othentic"?



Yes. I want to eat vegetables

from my garden...



collect oil from my olive trees

and eggs from my hens...



and drink wine

from my vineyard.



That'll take time.

The olive trees have grown wild.



They'll need three years

of cultivating.



A vineyard, too,

will need three years.



But vegetables can't grow

without water.



We'll see!



Thanks to the inheritance

my thrifty mother left me...



we have enough to live on

for three years.



And in three years...



Meanwhile, we have big plans!



Thanks again.

I must start work at once.



I notice the roof leaks

in quite a few spots.



- Lots of luck!

- We have energy to spare.



What type of man is he?



He's a city hunchback type.



- A city type?

- And how!



Watch out.

He may be a city chump...



but hunchbacks are often

smarter than us.



What will he plant?



"Othentics"! He'll plant

"othentics" everywhere!



What's an "othentic"?



Probably a plant

that grows in books.



"We must be modern," he said.



I bet he mentioned routine.






What is that?



It's a city word.



It means that what

our fathers taught us...



is a lot of nonsense...



and that we should be modern.



It's pure bullshit.



He spoke of three years.

That's a disaster.



Don't always expect the worst.



Still, Anglade or Casimir,

who are distant cousins of his...



might tell him about the spring.



That would be serious.



No. His mother warned him

to avoid folks from Bastides.



He'll buy his bread in Ruissatel...



and nobody must know

he's from Crespin.



But we will tell everyone.



We'll say a man from Crespin

bought the farm...



but we won't mention

Florette's name.



Meanwhile, act friendly,

help him out, lend him my mule.



And play up to his wife.



A bunch of almonds,

two thrushes, a basket of figs...



so that when he leaves, he'll sell

the farm to you, no one else.



I told him he could have a bucket

of my well water every day.



But not for that reason.



Why else?



Plugging up the spring was no crime.

It was for my carnations.



But if they drink the cistern water,

they'll all three die.



It would always be

on my conscience.



You're just like your poor mother.



But you did right.



I'll try to discourage him.



I'll say the soil's rotten...



the grasshoppers will eat his crop,

it never rains...



Stop it!



You'll say that "othentics"

are great, that it rains often...



and he should start

his projects right away.



Remember, it's much easier...



to push something downhill

than uphill.



So, push him in the direction

where he'll fall.



As you see, I'm taking you up

on your generous offer.



Just help yourself.



I've been admiring the landscape.



I know nothing about landscapes.



It's beautiful.



It's big. You can see

what the weather will be.



That's true.



Come on, I'll show you.



Do this, or the bucket floats

and comes up empty.



Like that it'll sink. See?



How is your roof?



I'm short a few tiles.

I forgot to order them.



Unfortunately they'll be new.

That'll spoil the total effect.



- Nobody'll notice on the roof.

- And still...



Help yourself.

I have some planting to do.



A thousand thanks!



More furniture?



I don't know if I'll make it!



     pounds of pipes

and wire fence.



- What kind of pipes?

- Cement pipes.



- Big ones?

- And how!



- How much?

- About     feet.



- What for?

- Usually it's for water.



There's no water!



Maybe he'll pipe rainwater

down to his cistern.



- He said that?

- He said nothing. There's also a pump.



- What will he pump?

- I don't know, and I don't give a damn!



What'll he do with that fence?



Ready, Papa!



See these tiles?



- What are they for?

- For you!



I've had them for years!



I thought,

"These will make him happy."



Many thanks. A second favor

that I won't forget.



I thought about

your water problem.



The cistern's good

for some watering...



but it's small

and will dry up fast.



When it rains,

the road is full of water.



If you had pipes,

large cements ones...



you'd have a pipeline

to keep your cistern filled.



What a good idea.



I just happen to have some pipes.



What did you intend them for?

And the wire?



That's a big secret.



A new fence?



Yes, but a special kind.



- It'll go two feet underground.

- To keep the rabbits out?



You're close! To keep the rabbits, yes.

But not out.



I don't get it.



First I'll plant some leeks,

tomatoes, potatoes, chervil.



That's an hour's work every day.



- A kitchen garden?

- Precisely.



Next I'll plant

some high-yield crop...



vital for large-scale

rabbit breeding.




You mean big rabbits?



What we mean is hundreds of rabbits

a month, if not thousands.



No, Aimee, we'll stay

within reasonable limits.



Bring me my manual.



You've raised rabbits,

haven't you?



I've got six,

and my uncle has   .



In spite of that...



you probably don't realize

how prolific these rodents are.



Here, read this.



I can read,

but I don't understand numbers.



Well, I do. It means that

with one pair of rabbits...



a modern breeder can obtain

within three years...



a monthly yield of     rabbits.



But this expert warns

that raising over      head...



becomes a public health hazard.



With      males

and      females...



a breeder would be overrun with

      rabbits the first month...



and two million

by the tenth month!



A province or even a whole country

could be wiped out by famine!



- Really?

- Tell him about Australia!



That unfortunate continent,

   times bigger than France...



almost perished from

an immigrant's pair of rabbits.



Those rodents stripped

entire fields and prairies bare!



They had to build

a      -mile electrified fence...



and they had to slaughter

millions of them.



Are you planning

to raise that type here?



Certainly not.



I think the Australian climate

caused the breed's destructiveness.



Thank God!

So, you plan on     a month?






I'm all for moderation.



I'll be satisfied

with a fourth of that.



I'm counting on     a month

within two years.



No more than that.



That makes more sense.



Just cleaning out the cages

is a big job.



- That's no problem!

- How come?



I want to see my rabbits run

and hop about!



I'll raise them the modern way...




What about the foxes?



You forget the fence...

six feet high, galvanized iron!



A six-foot fence

won't stop a fox. Never!



But galvanized iron might.



That's why I plan to use

underground burrows...



with cement pipe openings.



The opening will let a rabbit enter,

but not a fox.



Good idea!



What will your rabbits eat?



- Here's my answer.

- You'll feed them matches?



Are those watermelon seeds?



- Are they "othentics"?

- Authentic? Of course they are.



These are authentic

"cucurbite" seeds from Asia.



The plant grows as quickly

as a snake darts out of its hole.



In the tropics,

after the rains...



these creeping vines

can grow    inches a day!



Of course,

we're not in the tropics.



- Thank God.

- And there's no real rainy season.



According to weather statistics...



based on the past    years

we should have...



six days of rain in April,

five in May, four in June...



two in July and three in August.



- That's just an average.

- It sounds about right.



Since rainfall is often sporadic...



we ought not to expect

this plant's maximum growth.



I estimate a reasonable growth

of about six inches a month.



Good! You'd have a problem

if they grew any faster.



You'd be picking up your squash

by the edge of the village.



Good point.



I figure each plant will yield

about     pounds of squash.



Not bad, but you only have

four seeds.



They're hard to get.

Today I have four.



But in six months, I'll be eager

to stop their proliferation.



If your rabbits and squash

get out of control, what then?



We'll be rich! We must succeed,

or we're doomed to return...



to the hell of city life!



- Well?

- Good news and bad.



He wants to raise rabbits outdoors,

inside a fence.



Rabbits? With a manual?



Yes, a book. It says

you start with two rabbits...



and get      in six months.



If they keep breeding, forget it!



That's how they ate up Australia.



This isn't Australia.



It's easy to make rabbits

multiply on paper.



He wants to limit himself

to     per month.









A toast to the losers!



Is that guy renting the farm?



No. He told me he bought it.



- He's a farmer?

- No, he's a hunchback.



Where does he buy bread?



He buys everything in Ruissatel.



He thinks my bread is poison?



No. He avoids the village.

He's from Crespin.



From Crespin?



That's nothing to brag about!




Crespin folks aren't bad!



Most are.



- What did he do?

- He was a tax collector.



Maybe he'll raise our taxes!



Is he staying long?



I don't know. In any case,

he's fixing up his house.



- By himself?

- Yeah, with gloves on.



Some farmer!



A hunchback from Crespin,

hiding on the hill... sounds fishy.



Leave him alone

and he won't bother us.



- Maybe he's a spy!

- What'll he spy on, your chickpeas?



Then he said, "The Good Lord

sent us a sure loser!"



Within six months he'll be gone.



He claims he must succeed

in three years.



Easier said than done.



But it proves he's got money.



Inherited money

burns a hole in your pocket.



In six months he'll be broke

and we'll buy him out cheaply.



Meanwhile, let's see what he does

with his Chinese squash...



and his giant rabbits!



Mmm! Smells like

she roasted some squab!



He'd better not find the spring.



We should help him.



- Hello, neighbor!

- Hi, Monsieur Jean! Ma'am!



How's it going?



What is that contraption?



With your pickax...



you'll knock yourself out

for three months...



while my plough will help us

finish the job in three days.






The heavens have

answered our prayer!



It's from his field.



The best soil in the region.



It's worth its weight in gold!



Such rich soil!

It's killing me!



He's a good man.



I don't like him.



Because he's ugly?



Manon is afraid of him.



Manon, I'm surprised that

you don't like that nice man.



He's ugly.

He looks like a toad.



It's your thoughts

that are ugly.



Ugly exteriors often hide

the purest souls.






Come here, Manon.



I'll give you an important job.



You'll water these plants

carefully once a day.



Galinette, he's a real joke.



He planted tomatoes

on the north side.



Even if they bear fruit,

it won't ever ripen.



He pushed his chickpeas

down too deep with a stick.



They won't even yield

a salad bowl full.



He planted the onions

right under the olive tree!



And he didn't plant

the potatoes deep enough.



He doesn't sow seeds,

he throws them!



They'll grow in tufts,

like hair on a mangy dog!



If that loony thinks

he can feed a family on that...



When I look at him,

I have to laugh...



but it also breaks my heart.



I feel like showing him

how to do it right.



Let him do it his way.



It's not the best way,

but it's better for us.



Are you going on a picnic?



We're getting drinking water

at the Plantier spring.



Our cistern is empty

and we mustn't impose on you.



Mine's been getting empty too.



I've a feeling

it'll rain tonight.



Why? You have rheumatism?



No, thank goodness!



But in May we only had

three days of rain instead of six.



It hasn't rained in June,

so we're owed five days of rain!



The heavens have    hours

to settle their debt.



What's the shortest way?



You'd better go the easiest way.



Follow the valley down,

but before you get to the village...



turn right and follow

the road to the grotto.



Thank you. See you tonight!



It's beautiful!



We're the new owners.



But we don't want you

to move out.



We just came to fetch water.



Don't worry.

They came for some water.



They won't throw us out.



God bless you!



If that spring were near us,

we'd have no problem.



Let's put our faith in

the statistics and in Providence.



I'm going to Aubagne.

Can I bring you anything?



No, thanks!

Are you buying more seeds?



Even better!

I'm going to get my breeders!



Come see them tonight.



Sure! I'd love to see

your first rabbits!



I'll bring along snails

for Madame.



See you tonight!



I chose young females

who've had no litters.



That's vital for creating

a new breed.



And now the male.



Manon, close the door!



He's terribly strong.

He might get away.



Not from me, he won't.



Holy mother! What's that?



He's a cross between

a giant rabbit and a ram.



I never saw anything like that!



It's got fur like a dog

and ears like a donkey!



- Was it expensive?

- Very expensive!



That's a strange one!



He's a breeder.

Not young, but virile.



He looks fierce.



I bet he could eat a steak!



He sure got taken in!



What breed did he call it?



The Romarins breed.



Go, make us some nice

baby rabbits, old man!



You're going to start

the Romarins breed.



There isn't much

inheritance money left.



But I'm sure we'll pull through.



Our bills are paid,

and the worst is over.



I want you to manage

the      francs that's left.



It should last us for a year.



In three months I hope

to start selling my rabbits.



If necessary,

we could sell my necklace.



- I was told it was worth      .

- Sell your necklace? Never.



I'd sooner go barefoot!



There's Ugolin's neighbor.



He thinks he's some big shit!



You should have aimed

for his hump.



That's not funny.



Go on! You're too small!



Here's a big one!



What a beauty! A real Romarin!



How much?



It won't last.



It's enough for my vineyard,

but not for his vegetables.



What do I think?



I think it's a disaster.






"Rain on Ascension Day

washes your crops away."



Stop worrying.



Remember, a wet spring...



always brings

a scorching summer.



In July his green garden

will be yellow like ripe wheat.



His corn husks will crackle

like patent leather shoes.



"Showers in June

only bring ruin."



I'm off to sell my vegetables!



This is my gratitude

for all your advice.



That rain was a godsend.



- You've no potatoes yet?

- Not before three weeks.



Really? Look at mine!



How do you do it?






I keep forgetting she's deaf.



That's enough!

Where's my dinner?



I'm hungry.



What's worse is that now

he gives me advice!



It's all beautiful!



But I'm worried.

Summer hasn't started yet.



It's July   th.



In two more weeks

we'll get those August storms.



Losing all this

would be a shame.



My cistern is overflowing.



It holds    cubic meters,

and I need three every other day.



I can hold out another week.



But it may not rain in a week.



One seed yields an ear

with     to     kernels.



In theory the yield

is     times the planted seed.



See, Aimee.



Even with a more reasonable

estimate... say,    ...



I planted enough to yield

three tons of corn. That should do.



Thank you, sweetheart.



We'll also have    tons

of squash.



Even half would be plenty.



The manual suggests

eight tons of feed a year.



We only have     francs left.



- The money from selling the rabbits?

- That's included.



Now, more than ever,

we need God's help.



There's no more water!



I expected this.



I thought we had

a few days' water left.



If it doesn't rain tonight,

we'll figure out something.



Luckily we have

the Plantier spring.



Four trips a day

will kill your donkey.



We can stock

    gallons in a week.



- But we need rain within    days.

- Ten days, this time of year?



Well, you never know.



If the heavens let me down...



could you rent me your mule?



- Sure!

- Thank you!



Come on! A little bit more!



Galinette, if this beautiful

weather keeps up...



his corn will be wiped out...



along with the rest.



What's wrong?



You gave me a scare.



It was only a dream.



It's the hunchback!



I'm out! I'm not here!



Is Mr. Ugolin here?



Isn't he home?



Ask him if he'll rent me his mule...



starting tomorrow.



It's urgent!



His mule. Tomorrow!

Thank you!



My chickpeas are rotting.



My apricots dried up.

They're the size of small peas.



My grapes won't make

two casks of wine.



What a year!



The weather does

as it pleases.



It's bad for us,

but worse for him.



He needs     gallons a day.



He can't haul all that...



with a donkey and a woman

and a hump.



Another week of sunshine

and he's finished.



He wants to rent my mule.

It'll be hard to refuse.



Idiot! Your mule would save him!



It can carry

    gallons a day!



You told me to be friendly...



so I drank his white wine

and called him Monsieur Jean...



and he's become my friend.



Dummy! You want to grow carnations

or make friends?



What a dope! You sound

just like your poor mother!



If you start to strangle a cat,

finish it off!



Believe me, if he makes out

this year, he'll continue...



and next year

he'll start all over again.



And he'll be miserable

all his life.



With the money

I'll gladly pay him...



he can move back

to the city.



By not lending him the mule,

we're doing him a favor.



You're back at last!



Yes, for the grape harvest!

It's our toughest chore.



Is everything all right?



No. I'm almost out of water.



It's a bad year.

Everyone is hurting.



Even the grapes

are shriveled up like raisins.



Could I use your mule?



My uncle's.



Not right now.

It's harvest time.



In two, three days?



After my uncle's harvest...



Casimir and the blacksmith

use the mule.



We do that every year.

It takes ten days.



But, you know...



with this heat wave,

we may get a thunderstorm tonight.



Your word in God's ear.



Here comes the loony!



He'll kill himself.



He can go back to tax collecting,

but his donkey can't!



I pity the donkey.



Are mules expensive?



I think I can find one

for about     francs.



I'll sell it in the fall

for a profit.



But for that...



I'm asking you to make

a sacrifice.



That is, a temporary separation...



from your necklace...

if you agree.



To sell?



No, just to pawn it.

There's no risk involved.



They'll lend me      francs for it.

It's worth much more.



The mule will thrive

on the mountain air...



and in two months I'll resell it.



Then we'll get the necklace back.



That's all right,

isn't it, Mama?



Of course.



Time for bed.

Tomorrow is a big day.



Do you mind giving it up?



I already have.



- What?

- I've already pawned it.



- When?

- Last month.



I had no more money...



You bought many things...



books, tools,

bran for the rabbits.



And we drink lots of wine.



- How much did you get for it?

-     francs.






The emeralds were fakes.



Please, God, make it rain.



Please, God, make it rain.



In    minutes

the cistern will be full!



What a beautiful storm!



Manon! I felt the first drop!



Me too, Papa!



I want to feel this

blessed water on my face!



Thank you, God!



But it's raining over there!



The rain is over there!



I'm a hunchback!

Have you forgotten that?



Do you think it's easy?



Isn't there anybody up there?



There's nobody up there!



What is that?



Aimee, come, look!






Dear God, what is it?



A windstorm! I'll run

to the Plantier for water!



I have no time!

Meet me at the spring!



Hurry! It's a matter

of life and death!



Papa's sick!






Now I know why God

gave me this hump.



She says she'll take

the sun out of him.



She says if we don't

take the sun out, he'll die.



All that for some lousy squash.



It's awful to see them work

like slaves in this heat.



He just didn't plan it right.



His squash will never make it.



But he's got a spring

at Romarins.



It seems to be plugged up.



Maybe it didn't plug up

by itself.



Maybe one should ask

the Soubeyrans. Maybe...



Never mind that.



The Soubeyrans do as they please

and so do we!



It doesn't pay to mind

other people's business!



The less talk, the better!



It's time for our move!



His fields are a disaster area.



He doesn't need to die, though.



Offer him six or seven thousand,

but haggle with him.



Let me kiss you, Papet!



Stop that!

Now hurry over there.



Wait! Bring him

this bottle of new wine.



It'll do him good.



Your wine is delicious,

but I have to face the facts.



My ventures failed.



It's a disaster.



I could blame it on fate...



or the unusual weather pattern...



but I'd rather blame

my own stupidity.



My lack of common sense.



I thought I was clever,

but, in fact, I was blind.



Blind to my biggest problem.






That's right.

Without water it won't work.



That's in the past.



Now, here's what I'm going to do.



When I've regained my strength...



I'll dig a well.



- Where?

- I'll use a divining rod.



Are you a dowser?



Not exactly.



But I have a special manual

that I'll study carefully.



I'll learn to use the rod...



and I'm sure I'll find water.



You know how to make a well?



After all, a well is just

a hole in the ground.



I'll make it    feet deep,

and even if I don't hit water...



my problem is solved.



What good is a dry well?



I'll use it as a cistern!



A well that size will hold

   cubic meters of water!



Spring rains will fill it up.



In the summer months,

between this well and our cistern...



we'll have    cubic meters.



That gives us    days

of worry-free watering.



We've had longer dry spells.



Where does a drought last    days?



The Sahara? Maybe!



Or maybe in the Gobi Desert!



But not here!



It's mathematically impossible!



Let's drink!



From what you tell me...



the only good news

is that now...



he drinks red wine.



And the divining rod?



That's a nuisance.



Could his book

teach him the secret?



Hell, no. It's no secret.

It's a special touch.



- He might hire a real dowser.

- You know any?



I knew one in Ombrees.



If he came to Romarins...



he'd locate the spring in a flash!



Is he still in Ombrees?



Sure, but luckily

he's in the graveyard.



And then, a good dowser

is expensive.



Did you talk money?



Not yet. He was drunk.



I think he's got no money left.



When it comes to money,

you can never be sure.



I thought it moved!



- How is it going?

- It's getting more difficult.



- Tough?

- It certainly is!



I'm down to the white rock

I told you about!



- The Cartinary?

- Exactly!



If there's water under this rock,

I'll reach it in two weeks.



But if it's under

the Quaternary layer...



it'll take six months or more.



Now I know what

a ditchdigger's thirst is.



This hits the spot!



Monsieur Jean,

I have to be frank with you.



You may think

this is none of my business...



but I feel sorry for you.



All the work you've done

for the past two years...



It's madness. It'll kill you.



An interesting introduction.



You won't finish your well.



Even if you do, it's not enough.



You need a river

for all your corn and squash!



This is no life for you,

and that's the truth.



Go on. This is all

very interesting.



A man like you

belongs to the city.



You're educated.

You could be a teacher...



or even a mailman

with a nice neat outfit.



That's what you're meant for.



If you stay here,

you'll kill yourself.



You're out of money... that's no crime.

But you're skimping.



Eating rabbit and dandelion

leaves you too weak for this work.



Then you drink

too much red wine.



One day you'll just drop dead.



How will your wife

and daughter manage then?



They haven't been looking

too well lately.



I've noticed.



What's this farm worth?



To rent or sell?



To sell.



Just a minute.



It's hard to say.

I hadn't thought about it.



It's no summer residence...



and without water,

it's no use to a farmer.



The second cistern

will add to its value.



Maybe. Maybe.



Seven thousand.



Is that all?



Let's say eight thousand.



You wouldn't sell

your mother's house!



The price

is perfectly reasonable.



It means I can ask our notary

for a      franc mortgage!



Then you're not selling?






I'll never sell the house

where I hope to live forever...



once we're rich!



We can manage quite well

on      francs!



I'll buy a mule and some

mining tools and dynamite...



to blast this damn rock!



In a year I'll pay off the mortgage

and we'll be set.



You know what a mortgage is?



It's when a notary lends money

to honest people who own property.



What honest people?



He'll have to sign

official papers.



And if he doesn't pay on time...



they take his farm.



All right,

now leave us alone.



There's something good

and something bad.



The bad part is,

if he gets      francs...



his venture may succeed

next summer.



On the other hand,

since he's a born loser...



many things can go wrong.



And dynamite and drinking

don't mix.



In any case,

whoever owns the mortgage wins.



So, I'll finance

his mortgage myself.



If he succeeds,

he'll pay me interest...



and repay the loan.



And if he fails...



we'll get the farm.



You're smart, Papet,

real smart.



I'm smart because I have money.



It's all set!



You do the honors.



Go, get Mama! I want her

to see the water shoot up!



An accident?



What happened?



I ran to see the water

shoot up...



but some rocks

were blown sky-high...



and landed on my head.



If you can talk,

it's not too bad.



It was a small rock, Doctor.



When he tried to speak before,

he ground his teeth.



He didn't suffer before going

where we'll all go.



The rock must have fractured

a cervical vertebra.



Even if I'd come sooner,

it wouldn't have helped.



I just stopped the clock

at Monsieur Jean's house.



Is that why you're crying?



It's not me that's crying.



It's my eyes!



What'll they do now?



They must have relatives.

And they can sell the farm.



And you might buy it

out of kindness?



It depends.

What is it worth?



Not much. In any case,

it wasn't worth a man's life.




is more than reasonable.



If there were a water source,

it would be worth double.



But there's only one cistern,

and the house is very old.



Once you pay off your mortgage...



and we deduct interest and fees...



you'll be left with      francs.



Sign here, please.



And initial these.



I must tell you that the buyer

has been very generous.



You can continue to live here.



He's renting it to me.

I'll only farm the land.



This is your home.

I'll never come in without knocking.



For me, this will always be

Monsieur Jean's house.



I've clowned around enough.

Anyway, they're leaving.



Let's go.



I think I've got it!



There must be plenty

of water down there.



Carnations, Galinette!



15,000 francs a year!



It's liquid gold!



What was that?






Just a hare

caught by a buzzard.



In the name of the Father,

the Son and the Holy Ghost.



I hereby name you

King of Carnations!




Special help by SergeiK