"What is left of our love", etc... There was that phone call from Patrick Godeau in the middle of the Roman summer, saying "If I send you something to read, are you interested ?" My thanks to him for shaking me out of my torpor and freshening up my ideas. There were those crazy times with Dodine Herry at the end of our afternoon's writing. We'd think about trash endings, hardcore endings, sci-fi endings and sometimes, when we were on the high, all three at once. There was Yvan Attal, gently but firmly threatening to murder me if I didn't give him the part. There was that first evening in Lausanne with Charles Berling, after a performance of "Roberto Zucco". We wound up in a hooker's bar, the only place that stayed open that late, talking about people, movies, things we liked. There was Charlotte Gainsbourg in flesh and blood, that first time we met for coffee in a local bistro. I was thinking, "making movies, this is it. She's here in front of me. We're going to make this film together. I've wanted it for so long..." There was that incredible fit of giggling at two a.m. when Pierre (Charles Berling) gets a face full of chocolate mousse and forty exhausted grownup kids wait for me to say "Cut !" before they scream with pent-up laughter. And there was my lover-man, coming out of the first screening and saying laconically, "It's good. You've made progress".

(Marion Vernoux)