screenshot from Jules and Jim
The romantic triangle concludes with a bang when the female character, played by Jeanne Moreau, drives the Roché character Jim off a broken viaduct and into a river, killing them both. This leaves the Jules character, played by Oskar Werner, to pick up the pieces.
The film shows the cremation and him placing the urns and then has him walking away, apparently pleased to be well out of it. This leaves a few ends unsettled which I'll try to fix. Let's pick up the action at the scene of the crime.
The film shows the cremation and him placing the urns and then has him walking away, apparently pleased to be well out of it. This leaves a few ends unsettled which I'll try to fix. Let's pick up the action at the scene of the crime.
Jules suddenly realized what Catherine was up to. He rose from his chair in horror.
"No" he cried.
The car went off the bridge, floated briefly in the air and hit the water with a surprisingly gentle splash before sinking quickly from view. A woman screamed. Two men standing nearby rushed to the water and one jumped in. He surfaced and called out for a rope. Jules stood transfixed unable to move so sudden and surprising was his shock. His wife had just killed his best friend, and had made sure Jules was there to see it happen. A wave of revulsion and anger swept over him. He noticed a waiter beside him also watching the tableau.
"Could you call me a taxi" he asked.
"Yes, certainly," the waiter replied.
The cab takes fifteen minutes to arrive, by which time the two bodies have been recovered, falling out of the car when the doors are opened; two pale, white, mannikins smeared with mud and lightly draped with weeds. Jules gives the cabbie directions to Jim's apartment.
"And be quick about it," he adds.
Gilberte answers the door when he arrives. She is surprised to see him.
"Jules! How delightful. To what do I owe the honour?"
"I'm afraid it's not delightful at all; I have some very bad news. Please let me come in."
Gilberte steps aside, a worried look on her face. Jules hangs up his coat and hat and enters the small living room.
"Please sit down," he asks.
Gilberte complies nervously.
"Jim told you how Catherine pulled a gun on him."
"Yes," Gilberte said, "although I wasn't surprised. She is capable of anything."
"Well, she's done it again and this time succeeded. She got Jim to get into her car and then drove the two of them off a bridge . . ."
Gilberte sucked in her breath suddenly.
"They're both dead, drowned. I came directly here to tell you the news."
Gilberte's face goes through a sudden range of emotions: shock, fear, anger, pity and then tears, which she wipes away with her hand. Jules offers a handkerchief, which she takes. She looks up, suddenly more resolute.
"Your wife is a bitch!" she says.
"My wife is dead." Jules replies. "But you, I and my child are not. Sabine is the real victim in all of this. She didn't ask to have her mother and her favourite uncle drowned in the Seine."
"Ah, yes, Sabine, such a sweet child."
"A child without a mother and a father without a wife."
Gilberte looks up at him with resignation.
"Not the only victim. I too am at a loss. Jim was my husband, my lover, my provider. He paid the rent on this place, bought the food, my clothes . . ." She trails off.
"Could we have some wine?" Jules asks.
"Yes, forgive me, just a moment," Gilberte replied.
She leaves the room and returns with two glasses and an open bottle of wine, which she uses to fill them both.
"To Jim," Jules toasts.
"To Jim."
Jules looks on Gilberte with a look between sadness and appreciation. He sees the pulse in her neck, the strain of her breasts against her dress, the flush on her throat, the sparkle in her eyes. He looks at her, not for the first time, as Jim used to; indeed did only hours before. He is resolved.
"I have one more thing to say," Jules begins. "Gilberte, now that you are a widow, you are free to receive the address of an admirer. You know that I am from the way we have talked in the past. You know from Jim how I congratulated him."
"Yes," Gilberte replied.
"Then you will also know that Jim and I were, in many ways, like two peas in a pod. He admired Catherine not only because I did, but because he was like me in his admiration. It works both ways; I admire you not just because Jim did but because there are within me the same longings and urges that were inside him."
Gilberte suddenly realizes where Jules is going with this.
"No," she says.
"Yes," he replies. "Yes, indeed. Yes, as soon a possible after a suitable period of mourning. Let's say two weeks."
"You're crazy," Gilberte says softly. "And so gallant. But pity is not enough for a marriage."
"Pity! Pity! I am not a man to pity my wife."
Jules stands up and grabs Gilberte suddenly by the arms, lifting her head to his mouth.
He kisses her passionately.
"There, did that feel like a kiss full of pity?"
"I appear to have been wrong," Gilberte says.
"You have no objection then to marrying me?" Jules asks.
"No," Gilberte responds, "nor to the sun after the storm."
She kisses him quietly on the lips.
"Nor to having a beautiful daughter."There. I think that's a lot better, don't you?
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