Original subtitles

POLICE HEADQUARTERS

You've heard the news.

An attempt on the First Consul's life, in the middle of Paris.

Don't tell me you're innocent.

I'm well aware of it.

Bonaparte wants immediate answers. And immediate answers are often false.

I was forced to arrest 122 Jacobins.

You know, those folks who think the Revolution isn't over.

As I do.

As do you, I assume.

Everyone has to do their job, don't they?

What's yours? Monsieur...

Bailly, Minister. Sylvain Bailly.

I'm a cook.

So you have to cook.

And I, as head of the police, have to question the suspects.

So...

Do you know anything about the Infernal Machine bomb?

You were arrested five days before the attack.

Someone overheard you mouthing off against Bonaparte in a café.

I have never said a word against Bonaparte, Minister.

"Minister." Come on.

You know my other names.

The "Butcher of Lyon." Ring any bells?

Our Republic entrusted me with the mission to combat the rebels of Lyon,

but they were swarming like insects,

and the guillotine was too slow, too merciful.

The cannon was more effective. A little less precise,

but very dissuasive.

As for me, I'm neither slow

nor merciful.

Lefty or righty?

I suggest you don't lie.

I would love to taste your food once this masquerade is over.

Though it's unlikely.

Lefty or righty?

Righty.

Put your left hand on the table.

- What? - Would you prefer I pull the trigger?

I have nothing to do with...

Mercy...

Thank you, Sylvain Bailly.

Take him back to his cell.

Next!

Thank you.

I want proof

that Bailly is alive.

Fouché has put him in solitary confinement.

It's not like checking in on an uncle in the countryside.

How can I be sure you're doing anything?

You can't.

You have to trust me.

Do something

or I'll find help somewhere else.

I give in to everything...

except blackmail.

Is everything okay, Your Excellency?

Yes.

Get back to the kitchen.

Come on.

Don't underestimate me.

Monsieur de Talleyrand.

Don't put your arrogance above your talent.

Come on. Faster, guys. They're waiting! Come on.

Cut it into thin slices.

So, kid, how do you like your new kitchen?

My father's specialty.

I thought you were an orphan.

He called it the "Extraordinaire."

And what's so extraordinary about this cake?

Carve the meat!

- It didn't rest enough. - Carve the meat!

- It didn't rest enough. - What's going on?

- The meat hasn't rested long enough. - And?

The blood hasn't returned to the muscle. It's too contracted.

- And? - It won't be tender enough.

Good.

You're the new roaster.

And?

I'm fired.

Also correct.

And?

Thank you?

No.

Try again.

I'd really like to, but it was our last piece of meat.

What?

It was our last piece of meat.

There's no more meat? How is that possible?

What's going on with the deliveries?

Why is there no meat?

I have no idea. It's your kitchen.

A meatless lunch. That's a bit harsh for a first.

All right.

Let me be clear.

Anyone who doesn't trust me to run this kitchen, leave now.

Liliane? You're staying?

You will end up leaving, kid.

Not me.

This.

Here.

He is lessening all of our freedoms with his Civil Code.

You'll see Bonaparte is killing the revolution.

He's limiting freedom of speech and freedom of association.

He's even talking about abolishing divorce.

They're talking about it.

It's an acquisition from the Revolution. But they won't do it. I'm working on it.

That's so kind of you.

What can I say? I'm a romantic.

You should always leave the door open to true love.

And do you think Joséphine will let him?

She's taken the lead of the anti-divorce crusade.

Bonaparte is proud and in love, but he'll understand eventually.

Understand what?

That he must leave Joséphine because she can't have children anymore?

Nobody wants to be condemned to eat the same meal their whole lives.

Even if it's delicious.

Well, now you must convince Joséphine

to prevent Napoleon from removing divorce from the Civil Code.

A formality for you.

But as you wish, Madame de Staël!

You can whisper in Bonaparte's ear, but you're not sleeping with him.

Well, I hope so.

Your new cook is taking us for cows?

Vegetarian starters.

Cabbage stuffed with mushrooms.

Braised cèpes.

Baroness, this is my new chef, Antonin Carême.

I hired him because he held a knife to my throat.

And now, for whatever reason, he takes away all the pleasures from my life.

It's called...

pleasure without a guilty conscience. Monsieur.

Unfortunately, there is no pleasure without a guilty conscience.

Try it.

Do you like the new France, Antonin Carême?

We're still arresting and executing innocents.

I think that the new France has much in common with the old one, Baroness.

Do you know who I am?

I read.

An educated cook.

You've found a rare gem.

As rare as a philosopher who cooks!

Enjoy your meal.

Whatever you want, the answer is no.

- You can't ignore me forever. - Wanna bet?

All right, I absolutely need your help.

- Is this a joke? - No, I swear it's not for me.

I need your potion with the herbs.

- Laudanum? - No.

To heal the head

and the ankle.

Nobody must know. It's a secret.

Can you?

What does that mean?

It means come.

Thank you.

Charlotte?

Come here.

Come here, let's look at your bruise.

Come.

He's a friend.

Look.

Come on, come.

Slowly.

Hello, Charlotte.

I came to help you.

My name is Antonin.

Did you hit your head?

And your leg?

Can I see it?

Will I be a cripple?

Of course not.

It's nothing.

- Do you like magic? - Yes.

Yes?

What's behind your ear?

I'm going to put some cream on your leg, okay?

Someone's coming. Be quick.

There.

As good as new.

Thank you, Antonin.

With pleasure, Charlotte.

Go and rest.

Who was that child?

Charlotte.

And who is Charlotte?

A piece of advice:

Forget about her.

She's their daughter, isn't she?

She has his eyes.

Shut up!

- She's scared of becoming a cripple. - Shut up.

She's Catherine and Talleyrand's daughter, isn't she?

Be quiet.

Come.

And yet, she's a prisoner.

Who isn't?

- Pear! - Candy!

A pear!

Étienne! Come on! I've got stuff!

Thank you.

- What do you want? - That one.

- This one? - Yes, please.

Thank you.

- I need your help. - Tell me.

Who would like one of Talleyrand's secrets?

All of Paris?

Yes, but who more than anyone?

A man...

one is better off not crossing paths with.

You should...

go and look

on the side of the northern wing of Galliffet.

Be careful.

The limping bishop has a little girl...

Of course.

...named Charlotte.

- Bring me that boy! - Yes, Minister.

Stop!

Don't move!

Whoa.

You should have waited for me inside. You'll get tired.

I advise you not to. It smells like sulfur inside.

It's bad for your sick lungs.

Minister.

My Lord bishop of Autun.

To what do I owe this pleasure?

Don't you have a bombing plot to unravel?

Bonaparte was furious.

It wasn't the Jacobins. You know that as I do, right?

Some say you are the greatest police minister France has ever known.

How could I know something that you do not know?

You're right. I always end up knowing everything.

For example, how is your daughter?

Charlotte, isn't it? Congratulations.

You could've sent me a card.

I hope Bonaparte got one. He loves kids!

Well, not so much when they belong to bishops.

Some time ago, you forced nuns and priests to marry.

At least they were married.

You are having children out of wedlock with your mistress.

Bonaparte is a tad conservative.

I'm afraid he couldn't keep you at the ministry.

What a pity!

Unless you know anything about the attack?

Goodbye, Minister.

I came to tell you that the First Consul got wind of your child.

I knew you wouldn't give in.

Come.

So?

Is he as good in bed as he is in the kitchen?

Who?

Who do you think?

It's hard to choose.

I'll take it from here, Henriette.

You may leave.

Is something wrong?

They know

about Charlotte.

Who knows?

Fouché.

And Bonaparte.

But how?

I'll take care of that later.

And what now?

We make a bad impression.

The First Consul can't tolerate, in his government, a former bishop

living with his mistress.

He never said "mistress."

As well as an illegitimate child.

He hates me.

And Joséphine hates me too.

He's demanding a public separation.

Impossible.

But he'll take away my ministry.

Well, let's get married.

Marriage is a beautiful thing that one has to think about as being for life.

Especially if divorce is no longer an option.

We love each other. That's the main thing.

Do we really need to marry?

Don't be stupid.

We're meant to be.

How many adventures have we shared in these troubled times?

How many missions have you given me?

If you leave me alone and abandoned,

and if I bumped into Fouché...

who knows what I'd say to him?

Could this be blackmail?

No, it's love.

Your first salary.

And your last.

You didn't even realize that

by revealing Charlotte's existence, it was going to get back to Bonaparte!

He's forcing me to make my union with Catherine official.

And now,

I'll have to marry her

to keep my job.

Let me explain how much damage you've caused.

Joséphine can't have children anymore.

She's so scared that Bonaparte will repudiate her,

that she's doing everything for divorce to disappear.

And who was the only one to defend divorce?

Me.

And now, thanks to you,

I've lost all credibility

and divorce is no longer possible.

Not only for me or for you,

but for all of France!

And for our dear First Consul.

You've proven that you can mess up my life. Haven't you?

Not to mention your father's.

I'm the only one on the planet

who's trying to do something for him.

But that too,

you don't get.

Disappear.

And don't bother looking for work.

You won't find any.

What if I have a plan?

I can fix it all.

The little cook has a plan.

If you want to save divorce,

Joséphine must be convinced.

Organize a party to announce your engagement with Catherine.

Invite Joséphine...

...and I'll do the rest.

And why would I do that?

Bonaparte hates a lot of things,

but there's nothing he hates more than his wife's infidelity.

And she has a weakness for me.

I can change her mind.

Blackmail.

The current trend.

Your cooking has made peace triumph

and you think your cock can save divorce?

Absolutely.

If you fail,

it will be my pleasure to make you join your father in prison.

Go.

Disappear.

Apparently you asked for me?

I'll need your help during Madame's engagement party.

You owe me that don't you?

Give and take.

Courtiade!

Have we kept Monsieur Bailly's invoices?

- Of course, Monsieur. - Go get them.

"My dear Antonin, I'm the only one who has been asked to write a letter,

which means you're looking for me.

I thank you with all my heart.

Please know the only thing keeping me alive in this horrible place..."

...is the hope of seeing you again.

"This adventure is a life lesson."

Idealism is overrated. I realize it now.

The important thing is to love, and to protect those who are dear to us.

And I hope to have the opportunity to catch up one day.

By holding you in my arms.

"My dear son.

Your father,

Bailly."

Someone wants to see you.

What are you doing here?

Do you already miss the Tuileries?

It seems like Talleyrand did everything he could to hire you.

Come work with me.

I need you.

Antonin, are you kidding me?

Me?

One day, you show up out of nowhere, make your little revolution...

I should have come back sooner,

but it's probably not too late, right?

Remember what we did with a single meal?

I need your hand, your gesture, your creativity.

The spirit you put into your cooking!

Agathe.

Have you already let everything fall apart at Galliffet?

You'd never have come looking for help otherwise...

You're not one to share the spotlight.

I need you.

Talleyrand is the only one who can help save my father.

That's why I work for him.

Sorry, but this doesn't concern me.

Good luck.

Gentlemen.

It's imperative that people like this marriage party,

and a successful party is when every guest is tipsy

before they even realize it.

We're going to get them drunk. What do we do?

Any ideas?

Well-soaked rum babas.

And?

Abalone in champagne?

Very good, Noël.

What else?

Let's cook everything in alcohol.

Deer with honey and cider.

Crayfish with anise liqueur.

Scallops with yellow wine,

but above all, never do anything flambéed

so that the alcohol doesn't evaporate.

She claims to know you.

Alas.

This is Agathe! My sous-chef.

I have conditions.

Wait, we'll...

First, I'm paid as much as you.

- You don't know how much I'm paid. - Second, we don't sleep together.

You don't know how I do it.

Thirdly, we work as a team.

Which means each of you has a workstation.

You do something, you're responsible for it.

You do it perfectly. Understood?

Understood?

Yes, Madame!

And you?

You don't touch a single pot.

You give the orders, we execute them.

Understood?

- We execute! Let's go! - Let's go!

Looks like we have a new boss.

No plate goes out without alcohol!

We soak! Soak it in!

Let's go!

This is the sauce?

Add more alcohol! What is this?

Dear friends, welcome to this humble party.

This evening, we celebrate the most delicious present

the Lord has offered this anguished world:

women.

Your men will stand behind you and wait on you during the whole dinner.

Of course,

I'll serve my beloved.

My future wife.

Princess Catherine Noël Grand de Talleyrand-Périgord!

Music!

Aniseed liqueur candy?

He promised a decadent evening.

He did not disappoint.

- Mother. - Darling.

I suppose my brother refused to come.

I'll be the only Bonaparte to endorse this masquerade.

Your brother is probably torturing the legislators for the 49th time.

They're fine-tuning the Civil Code. It's his new hobby.

He set about challenging all the achievements of the revolution

by drafting his own civil code.

Your presence among us is an honor.

A bishop marrying a whore. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

My future husband says that repentance opens the doors to heaven.

But one must have sinned to repent.

I'm sorry the First Consul isn't here to wait on you.

I'm certain someone else will volunteer.

Go ahead!

No slowing down on the booze!

- You're going to get drunk, Liliane. - That's the whole point, honey.

Service! Two chickens, two scallops. Now!

Do you need me?

Would you bring this to the First Lady?

With pleasure.

Madame?

Welcome, from the cook.

I know this cocktail.

The cook would like to know if you like it.

Tell him...

It is a little too strong.

Sure, the cook can add ice.

You're running out of ice.

Now?

When can I compliment your cook?

I'll give him to you!

But for one day only.

You just have to organize the party.

What an excellent idea!

Hortense, Louis!

Follow me, please.

Where are you taking us?

I never sleep with the same servant twice.

But we've never slept together.

You mean I'd remember it?

No.

I mean...

I'd...

remember it.

It's beautiful. So this is a kitchen?

Yes.

Impressive!

You haven't seen anything yet! I adore theatrics!

Let me cover your eyes.

So, turn around.

You won't be disappointed.

Come, Louis!

You know I love surprises.

Perfect timing.

Here.

- Can't see anything? - No.

- So... - I hope you're not chilly.

This is fun.

- Follow me. - Let's go.

I'm following you.

Follow my voice.

Louis, hold my hand!

- Did you hear? - Almost there.

- Let's not fall. - Wait a moment.

Are you ready?

Yes, but we still can't see anything.

It's your daughter

with your husband's brother.

They'll know nothing.

Only if you promise me something.

Save your marriage.

Save divorce.

Convince him to keep divorce in the Civil Code.

Watch out.

Take my hand, Louis.

I'm following you.

Watch out.

What is this?

You can remove your blindfolds.

- What is it? - Wait.

- What's happening? - What's...

It's mysterious.

- Go ahead. - Okay.

- Give me your hand. - I'm holding you.

You can remove your blindfold.

Open it.

Exotic fruits.

They come from all over the world.

Catherine brought them especially for you.

Exotic fruits.

This one is called litchi.

These fruits enhance fertility,

so your marriage is long and fruitful.

I've never eaten anything like it!

You shouldn't have, Monsieur de Talleyrand.

I'm going to ask Catherine to send more for your mother and the First Consul.

- That's nice of you. - It's no problem.

I'm sorry, I didn't have a choice.

I'll have you eat your own cock.

Oh, no! You're leaving already?

Congratulations!

And if your marriage doesn't work out, you can always divorce.

You really would have condemned millions of people to unhappy marriages,

only to save yours.

He'll never divorce me.

He loves me.

Perfect. Then what are you worried about?

Nothing.

Your Excellency.

"Down with the Tyrant"?

"The arbitrary will of an individual

sends men without trial to prison and the guillotine."

Someone passed these out this evening.

Do you think it's Germaine de Staël?

I'm afraid it is.

What should we do?

For now, nothing.

It's the same handwriting.

Who gave you this letter?

Lefty or righty?