Getting into character, I'm inhabiting the role of me.

You know, I'm like Jim Carrey with Andy Kaufman.

It's like Will's not gone.

Will's going to be here. Will's going to do this role. So a week or two ago, I went to see this film called Le Camillon. Very highbrow French

art film from 77 by Marguerite Durard. Marguerite Durard was, you know, one of many

disappointed Marxist intellectuals in France,

who was very excited by May 1968 and very saddened by the years after. And the film is her and

Gerard de Pardieu sitting at a table in her house, reading the script for this film that will

never be made. The script is a road movie about a young,

disillusioned Marxist girl, ex-Marxist girl, who's now sort of a nihilist and a truck driver

who's sort of hopeful for the future. And the movie alternates between scenes of Girard and

Dupardue reading the script and scenes of a truck driving in the French

countryside. Very unseonic. It looks like slough in the UK office. And, you know, this is a movie

that, I mean, when I first heard about it, I think John Waters mentioned it in one of his books,

very kind of cheekily recommending it as like a movie that

raises pretentiousness to an art form. And that was kind of the nicest thing you'd read about

a movie like this in the mainstream press for decades. For years, stuff like this was regarded

by, you know, many of the polite gatekeepers of our society as like for sickos only.

And I saw it with a sold-out audience of

mostly people younger than us, incredibly enough, very appreciative, very respectful. And I mean,

I felt the movie very strongly. What it was saying about the sort of atmosphere it was capturing

of what to do in the midst of political

...