Mr. Romain Gary, hello. - Hello.
You've been an aviator, soldier, resistance fighter and Companion of the Liberation.
Today, you are the French Consul in Los Angeles.
You're also married to Jean Seberg, a major film star
and civil rights activist.
You are a writer known for your engaged writing, your humanism.
So why hasn't the current situation in America been the topic of a new novel?
Well, listen, I don't want to write a book to get rid of a problem.
I've tried that already and it doesn't work.
If I were to write a book about what's happening right now in America,
it would first of all be to question my place as a white man in the fight for equality.
Have you lost hope?
I'd prefer to have lost hope, it would be much easier.
But I'm physiologically incapable of that.
I can't help but be hopeful.
WHITE DOG
What are you doing here, are you lost?
Who are you talking to, Dad? - A dog, come see.
Look.
Hello, big doggy.
Where'd you come from? Huh? Where'd you come from?
Do you think he bites?
No, look, he's friendly. - He's soft.
He's wet, is what he is. - Yeah!
Want to come in? Dry off?
Can you help? - Yes!
We can't let him drip all over the floor.
He likes it behind the ears.
It's like he's laughing.
It's awful.
I know.
Sure you still want to go?
Yes, of course, I'm not going to keep quiet now.
The world's exploding outside.
I'm not going to just sit back and watch the show.
It's the perfect time to speak up.
Want me to come with you?
No.
You sure?
Yes.
Diego's ready.
Is Mom taking me?
Yes, Mom's taking you. - Yay!
And the dog?
It's a good dog.
Do we keep him? - Yes, we're keeping him!
All this looting is completely expected.
We live in a white affluent society
obsessed with the constant exhibition of wealth.
How can you be surprised that a Black kid from the ghetto
surrounded by Cadillacs and luxury stores takes to smashing windows?
No! It's a cry, a response.
What do you think?
Stop that right now! Stop it! Stop it!
Listen here, old boy.
I'm not asking you to stop biting Black people,
I'm asking you to stop only biting Black people.
So, we are...
We are. - We are.
A... - A...
re. - re.
Are.
And going too fast.
I can't wait. - Wait.
Wait. I can't wait to...
receive?
To receive. - Receive.
To receive.
Celia? - Yes?
The plane ticket?
I put it there.
I miss you.
Miss. - Miss.
Miss.
I miss you.
- I miss you.
I miss you. I love you.
Who's the hero of your own happiness?
I am.
It'll be cold in Alabama.
Will you be OK?
The hardest part was seeing this dog totally lost.
Disoriented.
Disobeying his own reflexes.
This ancient dog.
Horribly manipulated by human folly.
I want to believe he's salvageable.
That he can be cured. Saved.
I want to prove we can still turn back.
That we can be fixed.
That we're not all imbeciles.
And that there's still some light.
I still believe in man, even if that seems absurd.
Even if people mock me.
I don't care.
Losing is not as bad as losing yourself.
I refuse to give in to the modern rise of desensitization.
If I do, I'll die.
What should I have said?
Well, nothing. You don't respond.
You could lose everything, and not just roles.
I've got nothing to lose, I'm using the only power I have.
But Jean, you already have all the power.
If I'm not there, the cameras aren't there either.
I know it's awful, but it's not your problem.
I'm not a victim so I can't fight, is that it?
It's all about how you fight.
Daddy!
Was school good? - Yeah.
Did you get in a fight? - No.
Know who's back? - Mommy?
Yes! Go!
Mommy!
Diego, come here.
I was born here.
I'm allowed to dream of something better for my country, for my son.
You're not doing anything.
You ought to write a book.
It's still what you do best.
I'm not going to put 17 million Black people in a book just to feel useful.
Of course you should.
If you ever come here again to insult my wife
with your scornful, arrogant face, I'll shove that microphone down your throat.
Get out!
You think you're journalists?
Bastards!
Mr. Romain?
Telephone.
We have to put it down.
Your dog is racist, Romain. Kill it.
So, we kill all the racists?
And then, we get rid of everyone who doesn't think like us?
Is that your solution? - I don't know. Maybe.
So, there's no hope.
Have you ever killed anyone?
Do you know what it's like to take a life?
It's just a dog.
A life is a life.
Why is his worth less than yours?
There's a limit to sensitivity, Romain.
You're telling me that? - Yes.
You're so naive.
Everyone's just using you.
If you're 100% sure
that all the people around you, in my house, in front of my son,
are there for the cause and not your money and your ass,
then yes, I'll kill this dog.
I feel like I botched my own suicide.
I take in a poor dog and everything goes to hell.
Shooting this dog would mean defeat.
It would mean giving in, kowtowing, surrendering to the enemy.
That's called losing hope.
Something I've never done.
She hasn't come home?
Do you know where she is?
No.
She hasn't even called?
I'm going to get Diego.
There's coffee.
Go to bed now.
Come on.
Good night. - Good night.
I'm going to take Ballard to Paris.
OK.
Are you jealous?
I can't stop you from being attracted to those you admire.
But I wish it could still be me a little.
Get up, honey.
It's time to go.
When's Dad coming home?
I don't know, Diego. I told you, I don't know.
Go. You'll be late.
People liked you more before.
Before?
When you were in movies.
I know, Diego.
It was easier to like me when I was in movies.
What about you?
I like when you're here.
OK, get going.
Paris, in the distressing early hours, assesses a dramatic night in the Latin Quarter.
Three hundred sixty-seven wounded, including 20 in serious condition.
Three thousand riot police and mobile units took position in the Latin Quarter.
The escalation was on a terrible week underway.
It's a standoff.
On Saint-Germain Boulevard, paving stones are being thrown in the riot.
10,000 students are in the streets, engaged in a fierce struggle with police.
At 6:30 p.m., 30,000 protesters gathered in Denfert-Rochereau Square.
The students were joined by high schoolers.
In Nanterre, a new order was given: occupy the Latin Quarter.
The protesters said they won't leave until they get what they want.
I believe that works have purpose because they exist in a sort of dynamic, fraternal ocean
that people can appropriate and apply to the causes and struggles they face.
And then-in any case, I hope-pass on these ideas to their children.
But as a novelist who aspires to human unity, as you say,
times are tough
and I feel deeply powerless.
You talk about vulnerability.
We can agree that it's really the essential matrix of all of your writing, all of your works.
What about in your life?
How do you mean?
Well, you've left your wife and son back there, alone,
in a situation that's, let's say, unstable.
Have you abandoned them to better find yourself?
I haven't abandoned them.
No?
No. They're still with me.
In fact, they're the reason I write. They're my main source of inspiration.
Don't touch me.
They're just scandal mongers.
Scandal mongers!
Hello? Dad?
You've got to come home.
Where are you going?
To get my dog.
I'll be a very old man before I can forget my reunion with White Dog.
America will have to emerge from prehistoric times
and into a new world, for me to die, finally,
with relief and gratitude for having seen it.
My son will have to grow up,
become a man among other men,
finally worthy of the name.
TO ALL THE LOST BATTLES
TO ALL THE FUTURE VICTORIES
You must know that with your past successes
you next work is highly anticipated.
Does it frighten you?
Of course.
But life is too short to not take risks.
Writing is a risk?
Creating is a risk, yes, but...
The biggest and most beautiful risk
is to love.