What will you do since I am throwing you out?
In a dramatic scene from “Whereverland,” Eva visits her Paris apartment to discover a struggling painter named Jean-Pierre living in it.
Jean-Pierre is in the kitchen chopping up vegetables on the kitchen island.
Eva walks in, and she freezes in her tracks upon looking at Jean-Pierre.
EVA: …Who are you?
JEAN-PIERRE: …I am Jean-Pierre.
EVA: What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?
JEAN-PIERRE: I am making a fresh salad.
EVA: What?! WHY?!
JEAN-PIERRE: Because I am hungry.
EVA: How did you get into my apartment?
Jean-Pierre steps closer with his knife.
Don’t come any closer! Put that knife down before I take it off you.
Jean-Pierre places his knife on the kitchen island.
JEAN-PIERRE: Okay. It’s okay. Er, this apartment has been empty.
EVA: Who gave you permission to stay here?
JEAN-PIERRE: Myself.
EVA: Yourself?
JEAN-PIERRE: Yes, I said to myself, “Jean-Pierre, this apartment is empty, and even though it is not yours, it is in need of repairs. I can stay here and look after it.”
EVA: How long have you been here?
JEAN-PIERRE: Two years.
EVA: What?!
JEAN-PIERRE: Please, stay calm, please.
EVA: Calm! You’ve been living illegally on my property for TWO YEARS!
JEAN-PIERRE: …Please, take a rest. Would you like a tea?
EVA: TEA?!
JEAN-PIERRE: Yes, a hot cup of tea?
EVA: No! Who the…what the hell is going on?
JEAN-PIERRE: You have entered your property to find a man making lunch.
EVA: Lunch?!
JEAN-PIERRE: Yes.
EVA: Are you alone?
JEAN-PIERRE: I am always alone.
EVA: There is no one else here?
JEAN-PIERRE: Only me.
EVA: Where are you from?
JEAN-PIERRE: I am from the commune of Mougins.
EVA: Well, if you are from Mougins, then why on earth did you end up in my place?
JEAN-PIERRE: Yes, well, I am a painter. My studio burnt down in Mougins, and I was forced to vacate. I wandered the streets for months until I came to Paris. It was winter when I arrived here. I had nowhere else to go; I found this building to seek shelter.
An elderly lady called Mrs. Bellet lives alone on the ground floor, and I look after her. Mrs. Bellet believes I am a resident here. I am sorry for occupying your living quarters, but as you see, no one has been here.
I know it is probably a shock to you, but I have taken great pains to make repairs to the building. No one has been maintaining it, other than me. I am here to care for Mrs. Bellet and sell my paintings.
EVA: What will you do since I am throwing you out?
JEAN-PIERRE: …I will move to a different floor.
EVA: No, you won’t. I will have the police come here and arrest you.
JEAN-PIERRE: Please, don’t do that.
EVA: Why shouldn’t I call them now? You are an intruder and could be dangerous.
JEAN-PIERRE: I am not dangerous.
EVA: How do I know for sure?
Jean-Pierre takes the knife and slides it across at Eva’s feet.
JEAN-PIERRE: I mean you no harm at all.
Eva picks up the knife.
EVA: I am a Wing Chun master. I trained in China.
JEAN-PIERRE: Please. I don’t want trouble.
EVA: You make one move and you’ll be sorry.
JEAN-PIERRE: Yes.
EVA: Answer my question.
JEAN-PIERRE: What is your question?
EVA: Where will you go from here?
JEAN-PIERRE: I understand. I will find a new dwelling nearby so that I may keep an eye on Mrs. Bellet.
EVA: Why should I believe you?
JEAN-PIERRE: You do not have to believe me…er, what is your name?
EVA: Eva.
JEAN-PIERRE: Eva. Could I ask you, Eva…why has this place been forgotten for so long?
EVA: It was never forgotten.
JEAN-PIERRE: I see.
EVA: Only unused, well, not by its rightful owner but by you.
Eva examines a stack of paintings lined up against a wall.
Are these yours?
JEAN-PIERRE: Yes.
EVA: (She studies the paintings carefully.) Have you sold any?
JEAN-PIERRE: Not lately.
EVA: Why not?
JEAN-PIERRE: Perhaps my work is not commercially appealing.
EVA: You are a starving artist then?
JEAN-PIERRE: I would prefer not to use that phrase.
EVA: But you don’t make a living with your art…you’ve broken into this building living rent-free…you are a professional squatter. Isn’t that what you are?
JEAN-PIERRE: I am a survivor…I am only a human being.
EVA: What room did you take?
JEAN-PIERRE: Room? Oh! Uh, the one opposite the stairs.
EVA: That’s not my room.
Eva walks into the kitchen and opens up a bottle of wine. She pours herself a glass and drinks it down.
Eva gestures to Jean-Pierre if he wants a glass.
JEAN-PIERRE: Not while I am working.
EVA: Are you working?
JEAN-PIERRE: I am in the middle of a series.
EVA: And do you think you can continue working in my presence?
JEAN-PIERRE: I don’t see why not, if you will allow me.
EVA: What can you do?
JEAN-PIERRE: Pardon?
EVA: You cook?
JEAN-PIERRE: I do.
EVA: Are you good at fixing things?
JEAN-PIERRE: Er…sure.
EVA: What do you fix, Jean-Pierre?
JEAN-PIERRE: Whatever needs fixing…
EVA: Do you know why I am here?
JEAN-PIERRE: No.
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