From
An arm in the cuff measuring blood pressure. A heart under the white fine rib that is being bugged. And a pale, bloated face that answers questions: Yes, I’m tired, I’m short of breath climbing the stairs, I don’t feel like eating or anything else. The doctor looks worried and says it, questioningly, the awful word: early retirement? Almost imperceptibly, a twitch of agony scurries over this great face of cinema owned by Gérard Depardieu: So me too, a damaged man.
