All language subtitles for pepe.le.moko.1937.bluray.x264-usury

- This must end!
- I agree.

Then get started.

We didn't wait for you
to go after Pépé.

- And the result...
- What?

Pépé le Moko is still at large.

Algiers isn't Pigalle.

In Pigalle, he'd have been
behind bars long ago.

You'll think otherwise
when you understand the situation.

Our people in Paris don't see
why Le Moko's so untouchable.

- Your people are funny.
- This can't go on any longer.

Arresting Pépé in a place
like the Casbah isn't child's play.

It takes time.
- Time!

He's eluded you for two years.

And it's cost us five detectives.

Too high a price for so little.

True. But don't forget he got here

the day after the Toulon bank job.
Remember?

Sure, the machine guns,
the car chase, and two million gone.

That's when you should've
intercepted him.

The continental police
are so "organized"!

Hello, Chief.
Meet Inspector Janvier from Paris.

I know.

Carry on.

I was explaining our failure
to catch Pépé le Moko.

There's one reason you in Paris
can't understand:

the Casbah.

Just as I said.

I'll go up there tomorrow
to see how the land lies.

"How the land lies."
Funny!

The Casbah is like a labyrinth.
I'll show you.

You can say Pépé's gone underground.

From the air,
the district known as the Casbah

looks like a teeming anthill,

a vast staircase where terraces
descend stepwise to the sea.

Between these steps are dark,
winding streets like so many pitfalls.

They intersect, overlap,
twist in and out,

to form a jumble of mazes.

Some are narrow, others vaulted.

Wherever you look,
stairways climb steeply like ladders,

or descend into dark, putrid chasms

and slimy porticos,

dank and lice-infested.

Dark, overcrowded cafés.

Silent, empty streets with odd names...

INADEQUACY ST.

SOUM SOUM ST.

HONEY HOTEL ST.

MAN WITH A PEARL ST.

A population of 40,000
in an area meant for 10,000.

From all over the world.

Many, descended from the barbarians,
are honest traditionalists,

but a mystery to us.

Kabyles.

Chinese.

Gypsies.

Stateless.

Slavs.

Maltese.

Negroes.

Sicilians. Spaniards.

And girls of all nations,
shapes and sizes.

The tall.

The fat.

The short.

The ageless.

The shapeless.

Chasms of fat
no one would dare approach.

The houses have inner courtyards,

which are like ceilingless cells
that echo like wells

and interconnect
by means of the terraces above.

They're the exclusive domain
of native women.

But Europeans are tolerated.

They form a city apart,
which, step by step,

stretches down to the sea.

Colorful, dynamic,
multifaceted, boisterous,

there's not one Casbah
but hundreds.

Thousands.

And this teeming maze
is what Pépé calls home.

Catching him
is no piece of cake.

He's well protected.
He has his gang.

Every crook is his accomplice.

News travels from terrace to terrace.
No need for newspapers.

He has spies on every rooftop.

Doors open and close,
and no one knows why.

Guns go off by themselves.

He has friends where we have enemies.
Ask Inspector Slimane.

The Devil's son always works
with demonic children.

Le Moko?
A prince of plunder.

Fifteen convictions, 33 daylight
robberies, two bank holdups.

And burglaries?

We haven't enough fingers in this room
on which to count them all.

How could he not be admired?

And such a good boy!
He wears his heart on his sleeve.

As quick with a smile for friends
as a knife for foes.

So charming!

- Slimane sees him daily in the Casbah.
- And you don't arrest him?

I have my plan.

In the Casbah,
he'd kill me without blinking.

I'm tolerated.
That's something.

- You're too lazy to worry him.
- I watch out.

- For your hide.
- I've only one!

We'll clean up the Casbah tonight.
We'll get him dead or alive.

Nice, very nice.

Nice, very nice.

This gem is a tribute
to your taste and expertise, Pépé.

Can it! How much you offering?

- You're like a fidgety coquette.
- We're talking dough.

Carlos, my friend,

your words fail to shine
like Japanese pearls.

Slang is a phony language.

Cut the gab!
Cough up the bread!

You talk like a baker.

This ruby has such sex appeal!

My dear Pépé,
this burglary does you credit.

What's on your mind?
- Nothing.

My palm looks like an oyster shell.

It hurts to part with this, Grandpa.

I can't take my eyes off this beauty spot.

- What's your offer, Grandpa?
- Let him think.

He thinks, we lose.

Grandpa's a friend.
And for two years now.

I've always been behind your company.
Your mistrust offends me.

- Well said, Grandpa!
- Sure, stick up for him!

You're not straight!

- Not straight?
- No!

You should've seen him slice up
some fox stoles with a razor!

- A razor?
- A real vandal!

A what? Repeat that!

Real sabotage. You pain me.

What? Say that again!

You pain me.

He says you pain him.

I got it.

I was a cabinetmaker as a kid
so I respect good craftsmanship.

I don't go slicing up fox stoles.
I snatch them, that's all.

And I know my place.

Right, Jim?

Right, Max?

Right, Pierrot?
- And how, Pépé.

Sure, they always say you're right.

- I'm square with them.
- And I ain't?

You've got business on the brain.
"Fork it over!"

You're no man, but a cash register.
- A what?

Come now, gentlemen, be civilized.

I got it.

Police!

No, Régis. Let me in!

Where's Pépé?
We have to warn him.

A busload of cops.
Like a wedding party after the groom.

- So soon?
- You were expecting them?

It's about yesterday's jewel robbery.
I'll warn him.

- Where is he?
- At Grandpa's. He's safe.

What a relief!
I was in such a sweat.

I could almost see him handcuffed
like a two-bit hood.

You're sweet, Régis.

- I'm a sensitive fellow.
- But Pépé's not your friend.

Well, I'm his,
even if he doesn't like me.

But one day, I'll prove myself.

I'm not a talker,

but I admire him so discreetly
he'll have to take notice someday.

- Thanks, Régis.
- Good luck, Inès.

I'll go over the terrace.

Seen Pépé le Moko?

Me? Never heard of him.

Look out! Police!

Pépé, it's me.

Régis sent me.
The police are closing in.

- Can't we think in peace?
- Let's scram!

Where's the fire!
We've seen cops before.

Where are you going?
- To get a look.

- Not you, Pierrot.
- Don't you trust me?

- Not you, I said.
- There's no risk!

You're too young.

It's Régis.

He's at Grandpa's.
The corner house.

They're coming here.

- Someone squealed.
- No.

Sure. Someone knew I was here.

You're imagining things.

- You saw someone.
- I saw Régis.

- So you saw Régis.
- He warned me.

- I'm fond of you.
- Why do you say that?

Because you're a child.

I think your activities
don't allow you to stay here.

Shove over! They've got
a shooting gallery mentality.

Let me through!

Quick! In here!

Stay here, my beauty.
You might get hurt outside.

- What's going on?
- Oh, nothing much.

Nothing? You're funny.

The police are after a man.

Don't bother!
They're not the talkative kind!

Relax, I won't hurt them.

I aim at the legs.
Good for varicose veins.

Four so far!

- Four varicose veins?
- No, cops!

- Are you hurt?
- It's nothing.

Give me that!

Stay here.

- You're hit?
- Just a flesh wound.

One! Two! Three!

She counts so nicely!

Tell them to hold their fire.

And you run on home!

Your place is at home.

- You saw nothing.
- What can I have seen?

- You heard nothing.
- I'm one-eyed and going deaf.

Doesn't the noise bother you?

I'm used to it.

- Have they been after him long?
- Two years.

- The police are so stupid.
- Aren't they?

- Don't you agree?
- Absolutely. Especially tonight.

Where does he live?
Just opposite?

Sometimes in here
on the side of the heart,

sometimes, the other.

Home is wherever he finds a woman.

Here, he's the caid's caid.

Caid?

The boss.
His favorite is Inès, a gypsy.

Don't say it so loud.

When he's killed, there will be
3,000 widows at his funeral.

Patch me up, angel.

Not with them, Slimane?

Hasty work is sloppy work.

Shouia. Slow is better.

- Don't like to brawl, my little beagle?
- No, my little fox.

Excuse us if we talk shop, ma'am.

Cigarette?

I won't say no.

Let me help you.

So, they surrounded the house?

Funny, they thought
I was at Grandpa's.

He can't even
sleep in peace anymore.

So you fired at them?

- A few pot shots.
- At the legs, as usual.

I love ninepins.
But they won't get me this way.

- I couldn't agree more.
- You see!

You see, we finally agree
on something.

I'll get you, Pépé.
But in my own way.

If God is willing.
- I can't wait!

I'll get the others, too.

Pierrot, Carlos, Jimmy, Max, the lot.

And alive.
- For the zoo?

- You're not rare enough animals.
- That's not nice.

You're gutter lions.

I'll catch you with my bare hands.
Without props.

Think so?

It's written.

Shouia.
Slowly. By attrition.

You're not big enough, sonny.

Care to bet?

- A hundred francs.
- Twenty dourous.

You're too ambitious.

Not ambitious, just patient.
I can wait.

- I tend to stand people up.
- I know how to wait in one place.

One day you'll forget
and walk into my sights.

Our friend Slimane is funny.
He means it.

He wants to arrest me.

Delusions of grandeur!
- I'll get you. It's written.

Sure, sure, sure.

- You're funny.
- And how much time will I do?

Consult a fortune-teller.

- And if I kill you?
- Insh'Allah!

You despise me
too much to kill me.

- You have a good mug.
- Do I?

You wear your badge on your face.

To look this phony,
now that's honesty!

- Your compliments touch me.
- You deserve them.

I must be going.
Business calls.

Let's go.

Luck be with you, Pépé.

What an amazing fellow!

Isn't he?

I think it's over.
I'll take you back.

With pleasure.
I lost my friends.

They must have gone home.

Isn't Pépé le Moko amusing?

He's entertaining.
But you won't arrest him.

I've written the date of his arrest

on the wall of my room
where the sun shines.

Not bad for a fiasco!

No police operation
was better named.

For a cleanup, it was a wipeout.

Spare us your jokes.

It's not a joke, it's an image.

Forget about arresting Pépé
in the Casbah.

Not even this "Grandpa" fellow
who greets us with a hail of lead?

We arrested him twice.
He had alibis.

We all but apologized to him.

- Ever search his place?
- Four times.

- And?
- Four times nothing.

He's God up there.
You don't arrest God.

In Paris, we're not
so easily discouraged.

But you have means.

Exactly.

Your best means is the information
you get from us informers.

The only way to arrest Pépé

is to get him into town.

But he knows the score.
He's no dumber than you are.

What we need is bait.

And bait I have: Pierrot.

Pépé loves Pierrot like a brother,

a brother who could be his son.

You get my meaning?

Not really.

I get Pierrot to come into town.
You collar him.

You keep it under your hat.

Mystery and discretion
are your trump cards.

Pépé starts to worry.
What does he do?

He comes looking for him,
like a worried mother.

He falls into your snare
like a confused rabbit.

Child's play!

What do you say?

Why not?

How about you gentlemen?

It remains to be seen.

Why not call in the army
to clean up the Casbah?

Algeria was already taken
by Marshal Bugeaud.

- Are we agreed?
- Agreed.

- And the reward?
- Agreed, too.

But can we trust you?
No double-dealing?

I'm an informer, not a hypocrite.

How will you get Pierrot down?

I have a brilliant plan.

Pierrot has a mother,
whom he loves.

He's a bad boy, but a good son.

We don't arrest the son, but the bad boy.
- How?

The great thing about my plan
is that it has to stay a secret.

Is the "Ayrab" here?

I need paper.

Tonight, you can add Pierrot's name
to your list of arrests.

- What's so funny?
- I'm not laughing.

I'm watching you
sell out your friends retail.

You're a born trader, Régis.
You deliver door to door.

That supposed to be an insult?

What are you looking at, Pépé?

Nothing.

The sea. The boats.

Doesn't it make you seasick?

Doesn't it give you a headache
asking stupid questions?

You have a headache?

No, a ship-ache!

Don't shout.

I'm not. I'm thinking.

- About what?
- About stuff.

You shouldn't think about stuff.

You're not used to it.
That's why you have a headache.

- When will I get out of this place?
- You starting again?

I'm like England.
My future is on the waves.

Do I bore you?

No, Inès, Algiers bores me.

- I'd go with you.
- That's impossible.

If you came with me,
you'd be a sort of portable Casbah.

Two years of the Casbah,
two years of you.

It's getting to be a round figure.

Put yourself in my place:
Inès morning, noon and night.

You're no woman, you're a diet!

- You didn't used to say that.
- I was being polite.

- You, polite?
- Yes, polite.

I've been fed up for six months.

But I kept my mouth shut for you.

So show some tact.

With or without tact,
you can never escape the Casbah.

They want to arrest you.
But you're already under arrest.

Just try to get out.

One step out,
and it's "Good-bye, Pépé!"

Thank heavens for the police!

- Will you shut up!
- Forget about Paris!

No more Paris, no more Marseille.
Nothing but the Casbah!

Shut up, I tell you!

Are you finished?
- No, I love you!

And I'm not finished!
- I'll shut you up!

Hello, Tania.

Carlos doesn't talk like that.

No, he never talks. He acts.

- He beats you?
- Yes, it relaxes him.

And since you're a woman,
you take it without complaining.

I've always been beaten.

When I did the music halls,
my crooner boyfriend

used to slap me around
because I was more popular.

I got a face men like to clout.
I've tried changing it.

I've been a redhead, a brunette,
a blonde, but nothing doing.

I can't dye my hair green!

- They've calmed down.
- Pépé? He wouldn't hurt a fly.

You don't say!

Did you hear all that?

Hello, old girl.

Women will be your undoing, Pépé.

Relax. I give them my body
but I keep my head.

Who knows
when I might need it, right?

But when they say "I love you,"
they don't practice discretion.

What do you expect?
It's my sex appeal.

Going down?

- Get home all right?
- No problem.

Meet any shady types?

- Who?
- You.

I was very cuddly with you.
And your girlfriend?

I took her back to her hotel.

What'd she say?

Nothing much.
She just talked.

I don't really listen to women.

What did you think of her?

Not bad.

She's got pearls...

and the kind of smile I like:
with lip rouge!

And bracelets like I understand them:
in platinum with small diamonds.

And a "to-hell-with-you" attitude.

What'd she say?
- You charm them all to pieces.

Sure, but this one's a little queen.

Did she mention me?

She got to you.

She's as different from Inès

as a phonograph
from a wireless.

What did she say?
- She asked lots of questions.

- And what did you answer?
- Nothing.

I kept thinking I hadn't answered

that question you'd asked me.

Oh, sure!

So, what do I get if you arrest me?

Twenty years, with a good lawyer.

You love me too much for that.

Don't make me turn you into a stiff.
You have such nice curls.

What's her name?
- Who?

The sister last night.

You must really like her, Pépé.

Just a passing fancy.

Let's go to Chani's.

I have a mother, too, Pierrot.

So as a son I'm telling you:
Have confidence.

But I sent her the money order.
Why doesn't she come?

What did she write?

That she was waiting
to get over a cold.

We're not in Normandy.
She still has to cross France.

- She's 72.
- So what?

My mother died at 82 in an accident,
coming home from a dance.

Stop yakkin' and come play cards!

Grandpa wants to win the trick.

Right, Grandpa?
- Win the trick at belote?

This game is beneath one's honor.

Quit making a fuss.

Belote is just the poor man's bridge.

I never use the vernacular

except when I'm with
one of those "gentlemen"

who think French
is a dead language.

C'mon, Pierrot.
Mister Chic and me are waiting.

Hello, Yaslema Pépé.

- Is Pierrot around?
- He's down at Chani's.

Pierrot's new girl is cute.

His new girl is Albert's old girl.

I arrested him
during the last Ramadan.

Praise be to God,
he went down for 20 years, as well.

Why "as well"?

No reason.

- I have a letter for him.
- I'll give it to him.

- I can't.
- Why not?

I was told to give it to Pierrot.

I'm his woman.
It's the same thing.

- I never gave it to you.
- Say what you want.

More shenanigans!

The "shenani-gangster"
isn't who you think.

- The what?
- Nothing. It's a neologism.

A neo...

I got it.

You're lucky.

How's the game, Grandpa?

Look at your friend Carlos.
Doesn't he look like a losing card?

Count me in.

Carlos plays a brutal hand.
A tactical error.

Be careful how you play!

I'd have played the ace.

- I smell trouble.
- Or the queen, not the jack.

- Stop sneezing at my hand.
- You have no hand.

Thank you!

- And get off my back.
- Why?

- I have an itch.
- You're so nervous.

Consider yourself excluded.

Got it?

Go home!

Read this and wait outside.

Listen, Pierrot.

Your pal Régis...

I don't like you two together.
- Why not?

Some clocks read
2 o'clock and chime 4

when it's only 11:45.

Régis doesn't ring true.

- You can't prove that.
- I'm telling you.

- He's straight with me.
- Maybe, but don't be pals.

Well, I like him.

There are two things, Pépé.
For business, you're the boss.

Then there's the rest.

I don't need anyone for that.

You don't need anyone?

Lucky for you I like you.
Now run along.

He's just a kid.

Well?

It's strange.

Your mother arriving
without letting you know.

Not even a cable.

Exactly!

Is she stingy?

It depends.

- Maybe she wanted to surprise you.
- But she wrote!

It's funny she would arrive here sick.

She's never traveled before.

Where's she staying?

At a friend's.

12 Trough St.

You know it?

I do. I could take you there.

It's a safe neighborhood.

But tell me,

are you sure it's her handwriting?

You have any other letters?
- Sure.

Put them side-by-side,
like Siamese twins.

We'll see if it's the same mother.

Let's go to the house.

Carlos, you lost your tricks
for the fifth time.

Slimane is a delightful
good-luck charm.

Cops bring me bad luck.

Go buzz somewhere else.
I don't like bluebottles.

Don't get excited, I'll move.

But it won't change your luck
if it's bad.

Have a good game

and bon appetit.

So long, Slimane.

You're too brutal.

And you're not brutal enough.

I can't stomach Slimane.
- Slimane's a regular guy.

Sure, regular.

Sure, he's a cop,
but he understands things.

When Pierrot deserted and came here,
he looked the other way.

Slimane is welcome
so long as I'm in the Casbah.

You're too good.
Like with Pierrot, you're too soft.

Kids are like broads: Kick their butts!
You're too sentimental.

- You pain me.
- Repeat that?

You pain me.

He says you pain him.

- I got it.
- Your play.

I have 50.

No mistake about it.
It's from my old lady.

Looks like it.
Same spelling mistakes. Same "M."

- What?
- Same "M."

Same simple way
of crossing her "T's."

But this one looks a little shaky.

My old lady has a fever.

You have an answer to everything.

Her temperature
must've been 104 here.

This isn't a letter,
it's a thermometer.

Would you go if you were me?

Sure.

I can't leave her alone.

She knew you as a child.

Is this street far?

An hour, round-trip.

Let's go. I'll never forget
you doing this for me.

You're a pal.
- I'm good-natured.

A nice little lunch, Mr. Slimane?

A nice little lunch, Mr. Slimane?

Why not?

I feel an appetite coming on
for good things.

A jackal's appetite!

We don't often serve Mr. Slimane.

Gluttony doesn't usually mix
with my usual occupations.

Be it as God wills.

Who are those four people there?

Mr. Kleep, of Kleep Champagnes,

his lady friend,
his associate and lady friend.

I see. Seat me next to them.

The pleasure of their company
will add to the menu.

Sulking, Maxime dear?

It's the heat. And my head.

And my stomach. I feel nauseous.
- Is that all?

Algeria doesn't agree with you.

He's too old.
I never felt better in my life.

You enjoy contradicting me.
You don't love me.

Come on, old man.

Who asked you?
She doesn't love me. It's a fact.

I adore you, so calm down!

Wipe your face.

You're handsome. Smile.

You're all sweaty.
Your skin sticks like taffy.

Inspector!

Come have something with us.
A cocktail.

Mr. Kleep, Miss Berthier,
Mr. Gravère...

Inspector Slimane.

Have a seat.

What will you have?
- Thank you. I don't drink.

Where was I last night,
during the shooting?

With me.

- You see? And who did I meet?
- Pépé le Moko.

What connections!

Business connections.
You don't choose them.

The cutthroat they're talking about?

The gangster, yes.

- You saw him again?
- This morning.

Did he mention me?

- To be frank...
- He liked my pearls.

He can still admire the woman.
Pépé's a fellow with taste.

- What's he like?
- Charming...

and frightening.

- I want to see him!
- I want to know what he thinks,

how he ended up in the Casbah.
It must be thrilling!

That can be arranged,
provided you have a guide.

For a lady without an escort,
the Casbah...

Whenever you like.
I'm at your service.

- As soon as you can.
- Tonight, then?

Once was enough for me.
I hate the lice and the stench!

We'll go with Gravère, all right?

I love adventure!
I'll spray myself with pesticide.

So, Inspector,
this evening, if you like...

- Where's Pierrot?
- How should I know?

Weren't you with him?

On the way down,
but not coming back.

Hasn't he come back?

What did he tell you?

He just said "See you later."
He didn't say when.

You've got a face
to scare someone off his feet.

Go check at Grandpa's.

Here's the bank.
The main entrance.

The staff entrance. Follow me?
- I follow you. Go on.

Tomorrow at 2 p.m.
the cashier brings the money here.

This is all from a sure source.

Here's the cash desk, the strong room.
The safe is here.

Grandpa, you're outside.
You fade into the background.

Into the background!
Not so easy!

I'll wear my brown suit,
pearl-gray tie and suede vest.

- Who is it?
- Is that you, Pierrot?

It's Ayesha.

Grandpa, it's my Pierrot.

I've looked all over.

- You tried Chani's?
- Yes.

I've looked everywhere.
I can't find him anywhere.

He should've been back by now.
- Back?

Where from?
- 12 Trough St.

- He went down into town?
- Yes, to see his mother.

- To see his mother?
- She's sick.

- What's this nonsense?
- Someone brought him a letter.

- Who did?
- The "Ayrab."

So Pierrot went right down
with Régis.

Then Régis came back.

Now I'm waiting for Pierrot.
That's all.

- And where's Régis?
- At the Algerian's.

No need to spell it out.
Let's go!

See you later.

- Stick around.
- I'm in a hurry.

Let's wait for Pierrot.
You'll leave when he gets back.

- Look, Pépé...
- No "look." C'mon.

- You afraid of something?
- Why should I be afraid?

Yes, why?

But usually you never even
say hello to me,

so I'm a bit disconcerted.

I underestimated you.
I was wrong. Come on.

- Where?
- In here.

I hear you're a brave man.
Surprised?

And you proved it.

You can be naturally brave
without knowing it.

Like when you took Pierrot
down to Trough St. That was nice.

You heard about that?

Naturally.

In here.

You're a good guy, Régis.
A real man.

- I'm just a friend.
- Sure you are.

Tell me, when did you leave Pierrot?

Right away.

On Trough Street?

He went to see his old mother.

- So she's in Algiers?
- I don't know.

But he went to see her.

It seems he got a letter from her.

But you read this letter?

So there's no "It seems"?
Then you two left together.

Then you came back alone.
- That's normal.

What could be more normal?

- Need me?
- No, we're just chatting. Sit down.

Régis and Pierrot
went down to Trough St.

Fine. So you're waiting
for poor Pierrot.

Why "poor Pierrot"?

- Because he went with Régis.
- So what?

You're right, Pépé.

I should say: You're waiting
for Pierrot with poor Régis.

- You feeling hot?
- I can't breathe!

Buck up, old man.
Sure, you're worried about Pierrot.

Have a drink.

Don't break the glass.

What's the matter with me?

You'll feel better in an hour.

Let me go, Pépé!

You can't just leave.
With a fever like that?

Cigarette?

Don't make such a fuss.
Smoke it.

His hair's a bit long in the back.

Should I cut it?

You were fond of Pierrot.

I still am.

Then you can't go until he gets back.
You want to know.

- You're hot. I feel bad.
- He's burning. Burned, even.

Let me go!

I have nothing to do
with his absence!

Let me go! Please!

You know me.
I'm a regular fellow!

Let me out, Pépé!

Let me out of here!

He's raving.

Poor guy!

He should stay in bed.

Don't do anything foolish.

Watch out for chills, my good man.

What's going on?

We're giving Mr. Régis
some last aid.

Is he sick?

He's feeling indisposed.
A slight blackout.

Come along, my good man.

Inès, go get Pierrot
at 12 Trough St.

Bring him back here, if you can.

The sooner you do,
the sooner Régis feels better.

Move it!

12 Trough St.

- A game of cards?
- If you want.

Cut, Régis.

Spades, the death card!
Not good.

Where's Pépé?
My friends want to meet him.

The brunette.

The one with the diamonds.

Yesterday, by chance--

No, there is no chance--

She saw him
and then ran into him again.

But why bother explaining?
You know you make all women jealous.

- Why tell me this?
- Because I respect you.

So tell me, my sweet,
where's Pépé?

I don't know.

Have a nice walk, child.

If you'll come this way...

Trumps.

Play your heart.
You asked for it.

Sorry, I'm not feeling myself.

Where are you, then?
Stay with us.

He's thinking of Pierrot.

The undertaker!

The one-eye!

If our friend and collaborator
doesn't come back soon,

I'll be very anxious.

- It won't be funny.
- No, it'd be awful.

But he'll be back, I tell you.

I'm sure of it, Régis old pal.

What? I'll be right out.

Play without me.
I'll be right back.

You boys look after Régis.
Never abandon a friend in need.

You still here?

A glass of anisette?

I love this place!
Oh, delectable!

A vision out of the Arabian Nights!
A night to spend a day with.

I love to travel.
I always imagine I'm somewhere else.

In Corsica, I felt like I was in Turkey.
Here, I'm in China!

A phonograph!
Let's have some music.

"Cheka tema..."
It must be native music.

That should be funny!

So what do you think
of the strange animal?

Strange, but not such an animal.

How do you like my burg?

I don't like the provinces.

Once past the Paris city limits,
I feel ill at ease.

Really?

If I can't wake up to Paris,

I want to go back to sleep.

You know Paris?

It was my last burg...
Rue Saint-Martin.

The Champs-Elysées.

Gare du Nord.

The Opera. The Boulevards.

Barbès. La Chapelle.

- Rue Montmartre.
- Blvd. Rochechouart.

Rue Fontaine.

Place Blanche!

Small world, isn't it?

Got a rif?

You understand?

We're neighbors.

Do your eyes hurt?

Your gems.
Not afraid they'll get swiped?

- Not with you.
- Right you are.

Excuse me.

- Régis?
- He's on his last hand.

Congrats! The kid's hardware
must be worth a mint.

- So?
- Don't fall asleep.

- Cut it out.
- Need a hand?

- Cut it out, I said!
- What?

I'm old enough to know what to do.
So if you don't like it--

I got it.

This should be more fun.

- What's his problem?
- Nothing. He's complicated.

This is fine stuff!

And they don't weigh much. Look!

What's it all worth?
Two grand?

- Add a zero.
- My selling price!

Put them back on.
- You put them back on.

Shall we dance?

- What's your name?
- Gisèle. Gaby for short.

- You a widow?
- Why?

- Who are you with?
- A gentleman.

- What's he like?
- Jealous.

- You in a hotel?
- Yes, the Aletti.

- What's so funny?
- Nothing.

- A pity.
- A pity?

- A pity I don't know you better.
- Why?

So I could smack you one.

I hate people laughing
without me knowing why.

This reminds me of Bastille Day,

when I was a kid, in the Gobelins.

- You from the Gobelins?
- Can't you tell?

I went to school on Rue de l'Arbalète.

Just around the corner!

Imagine that!

Let's take a walk.

Where?

On the terrace.
There's a view of the port.

Not tonight. I'm not alone.

- When, then?
- Later.

- When?
- Tomorrow.

- You'll be gone by then.
- I'll come back.

- Promise?
- Promise.

- You want that, kid?
- Have some respect.

- What for?
- Because you don't usually.

- Where's Pierrot?
- I don't know.

- Didn't you go?
- I couldn't leave you alone.

I'm with the lady.

- Where is he?
- Who?

- Régis.
- Come with me.

- So he squealed on you?
- You were right. Forgive me.

Where is he?
- I saved him for you.

- Where are they?
- Gone. They were scared.

The boy came of good stock.

Of course, he sort of deserted.
He hated the army.

Personally, I admire the uniform.

They're putting him
in cold storage now.

He's cashed in his chips.

You'll get sick
if you drink like that.

I was fond of Pierrot.

- Are you done?
- Can't we even talk?

- Well?
- Well, it's over.

No more Pierrot.

I was alone at the cemetery.

I did as the gypsies do.

A handful of dirt over his body.

Pierrot can sleep in peace now.

You have a heavy heart.

You couldn't even escort him
to his final resting place.

I'm your friend.
I feel for you.

But don't worry.

One day, your enemies
won't stop you from leaving the Casbah.

What do you mean?

You'll go like Pierrot. Feet first.

If you're patient,
you'll have the last word then.

I'll go when I want. And alive.

Don't get upset.
I know you. You're not crazy.

What's all this?
That's enough!

Enough of that racket!

- You saw her again?
- Who?

Gaby, the woman the other night.

- Wasn't she a beauty? A pity.
- Why a pity?

A pity she won't be back.

She's a lady who dislikes disturbances.

You feel hurt.
- What?

Why should I care?

So you say.

Enough out of you!
Get on home!

Go on!

Get out, all of you!

You, too!

I don't want to see anybody.

But she said she'd come again.

A pity.

Pierrot is dead
and the woman you desired...

There are such days.

She ain't coming back
and that suits you fine.

Her rocks.
Woulda been a snap!

Get off my back!

Guys with all flash and no fire
burn me up!

No moonlight serenades for me!
- Get the hell out!

No need to insist.
I got it.

Your friends lack tact.

They don't respect
the appeal of your sorrow.

Shakespearean style
is out of fashion nowadays.

I can see how they disgust you.

Get off my back!

I'll go into town when I like!

I'm a free man, you hear!

And I've had enough
of all your yapping!

I'll go when I feel like it.
Right now, even!

I'm going down now!

She can't come up,
but I can go down.

And no one will stop me,
you hear?

What's the matter?

He's mad!
He's going into the city.

He won't listen to reason.

It's Slimane.
Le Moko's coming out.

Post men at New Gate St.,
Casbah St. and Ramdam St.

He's drunk. We've got him.
Quick!

Pépé, you're crazy.
Don't go!

Don't go! I'm not jealous!

She's up there!

She's at the house.
She's waiting for you. Up there.

Where is she?

Where is she?

So you were pulling my leg?

A cock-and-bull story?

Answer me.

Answer me!

It was the only way to stop you.

You do this to me?

Begging for myself
wouldn't stop you.

So...

You're right.

I'm an idiot.

I'm sorry.

Aren't you fed up
with a guy like me?

I'm rotten.

You are what you are.

A good kid like you
should have it easy.

It's not fair.

But here we are, the two of us.

You run so fast.

I really stepped on it.

But I caught up with you.

You're a real champ!

I'm thirsty.

It's just like me.
Nothing in its gut.

I'm going for a drink.

I kept my promise.
Here I am.

You look strange!

We didn't say good-bye the other night,
so I came to say hello.

C'mon!

Is she there?

She's a walking ice palace.

The sparklers she's got on her!

- Looking for Pépé?
- No, why?

- He's busy.
- I'm not looking for him.

In case you were,
I just ran into him.

- I didn't ask you.
- He's with the girl with the diamonds.

- Will you come again?
- Tomorrow.

- You sure?
- Same time.

Here?

I really like you.
You're beautiful.

And being with you
is like being in Paris.

With you I escape, you see?
You're a different landscape.

I was pretending to sleep earlier.

I let my mind wander.
You know what I heard?

The Métro.

Can you imagine? The Métro!

You taunt me with diamonds,
you're wearing silk and gold,

but you remind me of the Métro

and frites and café au lait
on café terraces.

That's what you're like.

What did you do before?

Before what?

Before the diamonds.

I dreamed of them.

I have to go.

- If you don't come--
- What will you do?

You really can't get rid
of this Casbah?

Why do you ask?

No, they've got me boxed in.

I can't hole up anywhere else.
They're hunting me.

If I leave here, they nail me.

Happy now?
You're reassured.

I'm neither happy nor reassured.

You're right,
because I could do anything,

even come looking for you.

Until tomorrow, Pépé.

I always keep my promises.

You smell so good.

It's the Métro.

In first-class.

Take her to Marengo St.

Did it go all right?

- Got the gems?
- What gems?

What gems? The lady's!

What were you doing together?

- Watercolors!
- Water-what?

I got it.

Oh, what a splendid day

The sun shines along my way

The sun shines along my way

Is that Pépé le Moko?

He sounds so happy!

He must have come into money!

Love paints all a rosy shade

It's the one thing that doesn't fade

You can say what you may

It's sad when it goes away

All you need for a life of bliss

Is a sweet miss

Something's up.

Love paints all a rosy shade

It's the one thing that doesn't fade

You can say what you may

It's sad when it goes away

What's got into you?

I've got a rendezvous today
on Place Blanche!

You've gone mad!

I'm mad, and it's a great feeling!

We have to have fun today!
Today's Sunday!

- It's Thursday.
- I tell you it's Sunday!

Hello, Carlos.
How are things?

Shopping with your dame?

He still treats you with kindness?

He's not the kind to sing.
It's business first.

- What's that?
- Go easy!

I got it.

- You're happy.
- To see you.

- Have you seen Gaby again?
- You're nosy!

- She came again?
- Such lovely curls!

- Did she come again?
- You must sweep 'em off their feet.

Did she come?
Will she come?

What mascara do you use?
You naughty thing!

Did she make a date?

So long, Inspector darling.

And keep what I said
under your hat!

Well?

This is going to be difficult,
but I have to do it.

Your friend Miss Gaby
is overly fond of local color.

She spends her time in the Casbah.

What's all this about?

The Casbah is a place
where caution must be taken.

An unaccompanied woman
is an object of desire.

So I can't insist enough that you

keep an eye on your friend
and advise her to--

It would be a pity
if there was an accident.

I didn't notice anything.

Of course not.

But let me make this clear.

Miss Gaby must not return
to the Casbah.

Thank you.
You needn't worry.

I got it.
You can come at 5:00.

Make sure everything looks right.

I want cushions and ashtrays,
and vases with flowers.

No problem.

And water the flowers
with eau de cologne.

I'll use my "Rêve de Java"!
It smells like violets!

And put out a table
with two settings.

I'll handle the grub and the juice.

All this for his new bird!

- She's no bird!
- Why? Birds are nice.

Sure, my turtledove!
Five o'clock sharp.

Going out?

- To do what?
- To take a walk.

- Where?
- Bois de Vincennes.

I want a serious answer!

Then stop asking stupid questions.

I don't know anyone here.
I just walk straight ahead.

And where do you end up?

- I'll find out.
- You're staying here!

Oh, no! Your hotel's as dreary
as a funeral parlor.

Whenever I come back here,
it's like walking into a family vault.

Good-bye, darling.

I know where you're going.

So show me the way.

To the Casbah, as usual.

As usual?

To meet Pépé le Moko.

So you're spying on me now?

- You're with me, you stay with me.
- What for?

I won't have you
behave like a--

- A what?
- Like a-- Exactly!

That's what I am to you.

Shut up!

I say what everyone knows.
Look at yourself, then look at me.

- You stay!
- Don't waste your time!

If you go,
don't bother coming back.

My mind's made up.

Here! You can have
your investment back.

- Stay here!
- Have my mail forwarded.

I must be crazy!

- No need going to the Casbah.
- Why not?

Inspector Meunier
acted in self-defense.

- So?
- So he fired.

There's no more
Pépé le Moko. Alas.

I knew she'd stand him up.

- He's got feelings.
- Well, I'm going down into town

and personally take care
of the lady's sparklers.

Which boat?

City of Oran?

At 10 a.m.

Prepare my bill
and make reservations--

Are you coming?

Not staying for the funeral?

Four first-class cabins.

Have two whiskies sent up.

Will you have a little whiskey?

Just what a widow needs.

You look dead.
Somebody turn off the juice?

- I've had it with the Casbah.
- You too? It weighs on me, too.

I know how you feel, Pépé.

We don't always see
eye-to-eye on business.

But we agree on principles.
- What do you mean?

I'm going into town
to see what's what.

We gotta find a dodge
to get outta here.

Be a good guy.
Give me some tips.

- When are you going?
- Now. Why wait?

- I'll fill you in on something.
- Sure, I'll case the joint.

Since you're going down,
do me a favor.

Let's hear it.

Deliver a letter for me.
Can I count on you?

So long as it's not too heavy.

It's for your society lady.

Don't blush.
Just give me your note.

Bring me a pen and some paper.

So you wait for an answer.

I'll be back in two hours.

I'll be with Tania at Ma Tarte's.

I'd rather not be at Inès's.
She'd only ask questions.

At Ma Tarte's in 2 hours.

Tell Tania.

- What time is it?
- Nine o'clock. It's light out.

- I slept that long?
- And snored even longer!

- Where's Carlos?
- He's not back.

I waited up all night.

He won't come now.

Sure he will. He's not a kid.

I hope he does.

I'm gonna give him
a piece of my mind for being late.

Poor Carlos.

There are days I could kill myself.

Bite your tongue! Do like me.

When I feel down,
I change eras.

Change eras?

I think of my youth.

I look at my old photo

and imagine it's a mirror.

I put on one of my old records,

from the days when I'd sell out
the Paris music halls.

I'd go on stage
against a country backdrop

with a red spotlight
on my pale face,

and I'd sing...

Some people dream of America

As they see it at the cinema

A magnificent land they swear

Our Paris just can't compare

That kind of talk makes them bold

When they feel blue
and want to holler

But they just end up
hungry and old

In New York
scrounging for a dollar

Among the criminals and outcasts

And emigrants with broken pasts

They sing of Paris at last

Where's my windmill
on Place Blanche

My tobacco shop, my corner café

When every day was a new chance

Where are all the friends
who made my day

Where are the dance halls
where we'd meet

The songs the accordionist
would play

Where are the places
where we could eat

Without a cent
in our pockets to pay

Where are they now

- Is Pépé here?
- What is it?

- I couldn't find you.
- Who let him in?

I must speak to you. Alone.

There are no false witnesses here.

We're silent as the grave.
No one will talk.

- I'm rotten.
- I know.

- Worse than that.
- Not likely.

Insult me. I deserve it.

You got delusions of grandeur?

It's about that letter
from Pierrot's mother.

I took it to Ayesha,
not knowing it was police bait.

Had I known,
I'd never have taken it to Ayesha!

A woman gave it to me.
I didn't suspect a thing.

I'm an informer, but I have limits.

You're only a half-weasel.

- That's why I came.
- For what?

I couldn't take it anymore.
It was weighing on me.

Forgive me, Pépé.
- Don't run yourself down.

I want your respect.
I want to win it back.

So I'll come clean: Carlos is done for.
- What?

- What's this?
- It's the truth.

- You squealed?
- I wouldn't be here.

Carlos, Pierrot--
It's your turn next.

Stop it!

They arrested him? Who did?

Inspector Meunier and his men.
They cornered him.

- Did they shoot?
- No, it was a clean arrest.

Clean! A dirty trick!

I was there
when they brought him in.

I got near him. He slipped me
the letter you gave him.

"Take it to the Aletti Hotel.
It's for a woman."

So I took it, like he said.

Always playing the mailman!

- Shut up!
- So you write to women?

And he says it in front of me!
- Don't like it? Get out.

You never wrote me
a romantic letter!

So you saw the lady?

So give! The reply.

She couldn't write.
She's being watched.

But she's waiting for you.
Her hotel window overlooks the port.

She's on the lookout.
She'll let you in.

Go through the Casino.
- Is that all?

She said she couldn't get away.

- You're not going?
- Get off my back!

She's waiting.
What message do I give her?

Waiting, is she?

I'll take the reply myself.
You wait here.

They'll keep you company.

I'm expected.

Then I'll wait.

- Carlos say anything else?
- Nothing.

Did they search him?

So they swiped the 5,000 francs?

He didn't slip them to you?

- You sure?
- On my honor!

Come off it!

Louvain took them.
He put them in his desk.

So Gaby couldn't write
since she's being watched?

By her friend.

- But she can see me later?
- Sure, on the docks behind the hotel.

Funny, isn't it?

Her friend won't be there.

- But why can't she write?
- Her friend was there.

Then how could she talk to you?

- Because--
- Because what?

Your story doesn't hold together.

How could they have taken
5,000 off Carlos

when he hadn't a cent on him?

But I saw 5,000.

And do you think Carlos
would give you my letter?

You wrote one, didn't you?

You think I'd believe Carlos
could be that stupid?

- I give you my word.
- Keep it!

So you wanted to deliver my reply.
So her friend will be out?

For a woman being watched,
she's a bit free.

The joke's over, Ayrab!

Now you come clean!
Spill the beans!

- There's nothing else to say!
- Yes, there is!

- You're choking me!
- Just a clinch!

- I told you the truth!
- Find another truth!

- It's the truth!
- Shut up!

I swear!
On my father's head!

No risk! He was guillotined!

Let's start over.
Move and you're a dead man!

Carlos was arrested.
That's true.

I told you he was.

- And you read my letter.
- I told you I did.

So far, so good.
But the rest bothers me.

What happened next?
- Nothing!

Something did!

You've got a thick skull!
We'll see just how thick!

You'll hurt him!

Spit it out!

Do I have to kill you?
I'll refresh your memory!

It was all Slimane's doing.

He told me to come here.

To tell you what I told you.

He thinks you'll come down.

He has the hotel surrounded.
That's all.

So you didn't see her?

Why didn't she come last night?

Slimane told her you'd been killed.

She sails at 10:00
on the City of Oran.

That all?

Thanks, then.

Go get Max and Jimmy.

You stay put!

Stay where you are.

You'll have to console Inès.

With Carlos and me gone,
that makes two widows.

- You're not going!
- What?

Think I'll let her leave
without me?

So long, old girl.

- Not waiting for Inès?
- Tell her I got away.

You're a woman,
you know what to say.

I'm going by the house.
So long.

You can't leave like this, Pépé!

What did I do wrong?

You're a good kid.
Don't be angry.

Blame it on the Casbah.
Let me go.

Let me go!

It's not you I was expecting.

- He won't come.
- What are you saying?

- Pépé's leaving.
- Leaving? What do you mean?

He's at the harbor,

waiting to board ship.

We'll see about that.

How wretched you must be!

- Go on!
- Let him leave!

Five minutes!

The nice thing about traveling
is going home.

That way you can leave again.

I've had a good time.

Even if I've always found
the sun dreary.

How about you, Maxime?

I've never laughed so much.

You see, Pépé, you showed up
for our rendezvous.

I knew I could count on you.

- Not here, Slimane.
- As you like. I can't refuse you anything.

Be a sport.
I just want one last thing.

I can't escape.
Let me watch the boat sail.

I promise I'll stay right here.

I know I can trust you.

Forgive me.