Original subtitles

Moise.

Maurice.

I dreamt of you again.

RUE DUPERRÉ PARIS 1909

MAURICE'S BAR

They let you go quickly this time, Bobette.

I hope nobody followed you here

like so many follow you to your bed.

Well, excuse my beauty!

With so many arrests, Bobette, you'll soon beat Maurice's record.

Impossible, he knew prison very young.

Since he kissed a man in the streets of Algiers.

THE ALGERIAN

Once, he killed a man with a punch!

- A single punch! - Liar!

Did you know he's a Jew?

I thought Jews weren't supposed to have tattoos.

Nor be homosexuals either.

Maurice? Last night he said his name was Moise.

Look at his fur coat!

His father sold furs in Algiers.

Do you think he made him cut up the animals?

Look, here he comes.

Maurice, the Algerian.

Oh, la la la la!

Look at those buns!

His name is Salim.

He obviously wants you.

The lights come on,

the show starts,

a woman comes up on stage.

He dances in such an obscene manner with that chair,

that one wonders who enjoy such a show.

Beardless and roughed young men

prostitutes of all genders

Charming women in trousers.

Old gentlemen in search of

special sensations.

The show ends.

Another begins.

This time, two women appear.

Their breasts

exposed.

They kiss passionately.

Almost choking each other.

A true vision

of love.

Obscene!

Do you remember a bar named

Le Scarabée?

Another bar like this one?

I thought Maurice's was the first of its kind.

Those were the days.

Le Scarabée.

I went there all the time in 1900.

It was owned by two lesbians.

It closed after a police raid

just a few months after it opened.

Disastrous!

Really!

The police came here, too. Several times.

To our "little theater of insults to morality".

In the evening, they seek our company and at night, they arrest us.

Either way, we're fucked!

But thanks to Maurice,

the bar is still flourishing.

Come on! Play! That's enough!

Fuck!

I lost!

A few months after the bar opened,

a client shot Maurice in the chest.

In the chest?

I was there when it happened.

I think it was someone who wanted the bar closed.

Someone who was sick with jealousy.

Or maybe a lover from his past.

A souvenir from Africa.

I think he'd have been luckier selling furs.

It was the first time I thought I'd lost you.

But you're a survivor, of course.

A bitch is a bitch is a bitch.

- We're with you! - Our queen!

Good evening, darling!

Good evening, darling!

Officers...

Have I been naughty?

A scandalous story will appear in the newspapers, tomorrow.

Three artists were arrested for their dancing and singing

in a small sinful bar.

They were accused of public indecency,

female impersonation,

and corruption of the youth.

And its owner

will have no choice but to close the bar.

Maurice,

33 years have passed since they destroyed your bar.

Now they've taken you with the same cruel authority.

We should have known what the future reserved

for us, the perverts,

the foreigners,

the degenerates.

Everyone looks the other way thinking only we shall be hurt.

But war

it's like a drunken drag queen doing a show

who pitilessly mocks everyone in the crowd

and leaves nobody unscathed.

You'll die in those damned camps.

I'll never see you, again.

All that remains are my memories of the bar

and of you.

Moise.

MOISE "MAURICE" ZEKRI 1879 - 1942

BORN IN ALGERIA, LIVED IN PARIS DIED IN AUSCHWITZ

OWNER OF THE SECOND QUEER BAR IN PARIS