Gabin!
How was ballet? Good?
Yes, Adam. It was good.
What’s in the bag? Your tutu?
Yes - my tutu. Good one. Goodnight.
We saw your poster. Pretty girls all around you.
-Flexible. -Hook us up. They’re no good to you.
I’ll take the blonde.
I don’t think any of them would be interested in you.
Especially the blonde. So fuck off.
You’ve always been a little punkass, you know that?
-If you say so... -You think you’re superior?
You little bitch?
You’re not even a man!
It would be hard for anyone not to feel superior to you, Thierno.
Fuck you!
Clever. Now stop following me.
You know, I’d beat the shit out of you right now, Gabin.
But I’m on parole.
I’m not.
You bought a lot of turnips.
You buy what’s in season. Turnips are in season.
Clean them.
Thank you for coming to my performance last night.
Could you see me?
Only when you slapped the man next to you.
He was chewing gum.
Did you like it?
I liked it.
I liked all the death.
Has the boy seen you dance?
What boy?
I ignore your games.
Have you heard from him?
Not since the night I saw him. He messaged me after and asked if I got home okay.
Did you answer?
-You didn’t answer? -I didn’t know what to say.
You say “Yes.”
I should do that.
It’s too late. He’ll think it took you 4 days to get home.
Right.
The turnips are clean enough. A little dirt is good for the teeth. Set the table?
Okay.
I think we’re not understanding each other.
Is there a video I can see? Of Gabin’s performance?
A video?
I don’t know what to do...
It’s really magnificent. Can’t wait to see the rest.
I’ll be next door.
Sticks? Cardboard?
In case we go on strike.
You don’t know? There’s an email chain.
I’m not on it.
Shit...
Come here.
Last week, all the dancers marched into Geneviève’s office and confronted her.
-About what? -You.
Me?
They’re angry. Jealous.
Especially the girls. They said you were undeserving.
They called you a “Nee-po baby.” Or a “Neh-po baby.”
I’m not sure how to pronounce it.
I told them they were full of shit.
But they went anyway.
Now they’ve got sticks. And big staplers.
But you’ve got me. I’ll watch out for you.
Why?
-Why what? -Why are you even telling me this?
Why didn’t you just go with the group? We’re not friends.
-We’re not? -I didn’t think so.
When I came to the school from Normandy, I was 13.
I started dancing later than the others, and I was scrawny.
Super scared.
I missed my mother.
You were younger than me.
And littler. You were about a foot tall.
You were the only one who smiled at me on my first day.
You said hello. Everyone else ignored me.
You made me feel welcome. Got me through those first days...
Thank you, Tristan.
I’m not alone.
Is it your Monday night man?
I wish.
Hello, Maman.
Hello, Mishi.
It’s your mother.
I know.
Can we be alone please? Do you mind, Ms. Toussaint?
Everything in here is sharp and rusty.
Are you going to come in?
So this is where Cheyenne Toussaint grew up.
Very eclectic.
She liked growing up here.
You talked to her?
Bruna keeps all the magazines she’s been featured in. I’ve read the interviews.
Bruna’s sentimental. I wouldn’t have guessed that.
You don’t answer my texts.
I’ve been busy.
Or are you just punishing us...
We’ve made mistakes. Lots of mistakes. I know that.
And I know I’m too late with this, but -
we always wanted the best for you.
That’s why we pushed.
Maybe we pushed too hard.
Forgive us.
And now you’re grown.
Out in the world.
You’re not a little girl anymore. And I’m proud of that...
So I’d like you to stop being mad at me.
By Saturday.
Why? What’s Saturday?
There’s an event. Honoring female trailblazers.
I’m one of them.
And it would look bad if I wasn’t there.
No. I could say that you’re not feeling well, or that you have rehearsal.
But it might look bad in the papers. And on social media.
I’m thinking of you as I say this. I don’t want you attacked online.
Okay...
My book is out and this event is important to the publisher.
There’ll be press.
I don’t need an immediate answer.
But I’ll send the information to you. And you’ll consider?
-Goodbye, Mishi. -Goodbye, Maman.
You need duck mousse.
Definitely.
...I would have been front and center in the suffrage movement.
Burned the patriarchal Code Napoleon.
Gladly locked arms with Hubertine Auclert.
Devoted my life to the cause.
And where is Florent tonight?
I banned him.
This is not a night for the patriarchy.
Let him sit at home in his underwear watching football
while we ladies celebrate!
To us!
...You called it the “Siberia Table.”
That’s fair, yes,
but this is the table I would have chosen if I was the one choosing.
Really.
To be away from the spotlight - that’s where I like to be.
A strong woman behind the scenes. That’s what I prefer.
Hello, yes, leave those there. That’s fine.
I’m absolutely fine with that.
Yes, I would have ordered at my table
but no one is coming to our table to take orders.
What number is the table?
Well, that’s the thing. It’s got two different numbers on it,
it’s very confusing.
How are you?
Good, good, good, good, good.
Olive or twist?
Surprise me.
But despite our strides,
inspired by the fortitude of those who marched before us,
there is much work to be done. Many more fights to be fought.
And I will be with you to fight at your side.
What did she say?
Did anyone get that?
It’s weird that the sound doesn’t reach this table.
I would have been front and center in the suffrage movement.
Burned the patriarchal Code Napoleon.
Gladly locked arms with Hubertine Auclert.
Devoted my life to the cause!
I thank you for this honor tonight.
And I pledge to do all I can for every woman in this audience,
and every woman in the whole of France.
Thank you, and may we never walk alone!
An inspiring speech, exactly what we would expect from Cléa Duplessis.
Thank you, Madame Minister.
Please enjoy your digestifs, everyone. And thank you for attending.
Hold on there, everybody! There’s one more speech!
I promise to keep it short! Nice and short.
Unlike some of you old sacks of skin!
It was a whole night of blah blah blah blah
bullshit!
That’s better. Now everyone can see me!
So we’re honoring women here tonight.
You know what I’ve learned in my 19 years on Earth?
Women suck.
At Le Ballet National, the girls are the mean ones.
I mean, there’s no contest, they’re just a bunch of stuck-up assholes...
-Mishi, if I may... -You may not!
Oops - Maman looks upset. Are you upset, Maman?
Don’t worry. Maybe none of the 200 people here are on social media.
You know, before my mother spoke,
one of you dummies talked about how important it is
for mothers to pass knowledge on to their daughters.
Well, my mother did a terrific job fucking me up.
She made sure I had no real friends,
no hobbies, no social skills, just...
dance, dance, dance.
She didn’t even teach me “olive or twist.”
The bar guy with the round butt keeps asking me, “olive or twist?”
I have no idea.
Thanks, Maman!
Oh, and I like boys, Maman.
Mystery solved.
You could have asked! You know, like just asked me!
Not that I know how to talk to one.
I met this really cute boy, Timeo. He’s tall and gorgeous and smart
and I had to look up stuff on Wikipedia to even know what to say about a city
I lived in for 2 full years.
Then he just disappeared.
Like a magician waved a wand.
Poof - he was gone...
My mother has a wand.
She can make people disappear.
She doesn’t kill them.
I think.
So please join me in raising a glass to Cléa Duplessis.
And her new book!
Which, interesting fact, she did not write.
Some old guy named Paul wrote it for her.
He’s got bad breath and nose hair
and made a weird joke about my underwear when my mother left me alone with him.
She gave him no credit and paid him nothing.