Original subtitles

Forgive me lord.

I didn't want to be such a bastard.

Little chimney sweep!

Little chimney sweep!

Little chimney sweep!

Little chimney sweep!

Come back, little chimney-sweep!

Please forgive me!

Please forgive me!

Lttle chimey sweep!

Ladies and gentlemen, our century is about to end.

Let us bid it farewell during its last few moments!

13...12...

11...10...

3...2...1...

Zero!

Ladies and gentlemen.

I wish you all a happy new year.

And above all, a happy New Century!

A very happy century!

Happy century.

Widowhood? For how long?

Until I find the next one.

You still wish to marry me?

For men, marriage's a game,

for women it's their life.

People marry less and less.

More misery in this new century!

First I saw the day.

Then I saw the days go by.

Rainy days. Ordinary days.

I was ten, then I was twenty.

Who remembers?

'Twas a while ago.

I grew up. I don't know how.

Winter came, then spring.

Came the War, came the Germans.

I saw people dance, so many people.

I saw old friends.

The military and the militants.

I saw a penny become a buck.

'Twas yesterday. A long time ago.

I saw building soar.

I saw intrigues and love stories.

I never talked about my life.

I knew it was forever.

Gone are the street carols,

the street girls, the street life.

I saw it all on the screens.

I even saw children killing children.

And I found the world to be unbelievable

and then just plain, miserable.

- Count? - Henri?

- The police are after you. - You said I was here?

No. But I took your bags

and your travel wallet, just in case.

Excuse me, but I must leave.

You leave it, you lose it!

There just aren't very many counts like you!

- Am I for real? - More than real.

It'd be a pity to stop.

I mean, counts like you are a dream!

- A legendary count. - That's it!

The Count is not a count!

Everybody believed I was. Even me!

Maybe in your lineage?

Who knows? Family trees are intricate.

A real count wouldn't be as swift as you.

You're always sparkling.

- It helps. - Some of the real ones look fake.

- You met your wife in my house? - That's right, sir.

That's why you can ask me to do anything you want!

How old's your daughter?

It's a boy, sir.

5 years old. Just like the cinematograph.

May he be as successful.

Thanks, Henri. I'm glad you remembered the wallet.

If something happens to me, it's yours.

Why are you saying that, sir?

We're lucky we only had one flat tire.

They made such progress with tires...

Sir.

Stop.

Hands up!

I said, "Hand's up!"

Drop your gun.

- It's not me! - I saw it.

It's suicide.

And the gun?

I didn't do it. I swear I didn't.

Henri Fortin, on the day of the ball you said

one of the servants heard you

it's the last time he humiliates me with his shoes!"

That person, Your Honor, has always been jealous

of the Count's friendship.

And Bouvier, since we're talking about him

never got over the fact that I became the Count's driver.

Next time, sir!

Your shoes should be fine now.

I fixed it at both ends.

You'll waltz along just fine, sir.

Obviously, you're not the one dancing.

- Your impression? - One more round.

He planned to kill himself. He said:

"If I die, keep this wallet!"

You're judging me on appearances.

What about the truth? The truth!

Don't say a thing!

Just look nice. And don't do anything foolish.

Say: "Yes, ma'am, yes, sir!"

Okay honey?

You'll see.

It will be fine.

Look, it's pretty.

Hello. They said there's work here.

- Can't you read? - No.

It says, "Handyman wanted."

I'm good at everything.

- And him? - My son.

No, no. I want a man.

We left Paris long ago. We need work.

He's old enough to work. We only ask for room and board.

Why did you leave Paris? No work there in the capital?

Help us. My husband's in prison

for murdering a Count, but it was suicide.

- I beg you. - You learned your math?

Go under the ladder. This is bad luck!

If you've got problems with the police, we don't need that.

- No more credit! - Please, we are so poor!

Only tonight, for New Year's Eve.

Naturally, Mr. Boudin made eyes at Mrs. Bouton

Naturally, Mr. Boudin made eyes at Mrs. Bouton

Therefore Mrs Bouton made with Mr. Boudin.

Just what Mrs. Boudin made with Mr. Bouton.

- Make 'em pay before they get drunk! - Yes, sir.

You're a cute one.

Here, honey.

Drink up and go to bed.

Now, before the New Year begins

I suggest you all do a little dancing!

And lets hope that 1901 won't be as miserable!

- Happy New Year. - You too! Happy New Year!

Happy new year honey. I love you.

Hey, cutie pie.

I'm proud of you.

Henri, I'm near Arromanches, by the ocean

where life is cheaper than in Paris

and where I found room and board for me and our son

at the hotel "William the Conqueror" named after the owner.

It's on the beach and people from the area all come to have fun.

I'll write often, because the priest

who is now writing this letter

will write them for free

in exchange for some housework in the evening.

I'm ashamed to tell him I love you,

but I know you didn't kill the Count

and he believes me.

About our son: I must say he is very brave

and helps at the hotel.

So I no longer call him Leopold, but Henri like you.

Finish the letter.

- I'm in a hurry. - Yes, sir.

So I no longer call him Leopold, but Henri like you.

- And then? - That's all, sir.

- Period, then. - Thank you, sir.

- No name? - Your wife, Catherine.

About our son: I must say he is very brave

and helps at the hotel.

So I no longer call him Leopold, but Henri like you.

What does that mean?

He's got the same name as you.

Good idea.

I work on Sundays for an old lady farmer.

I am earning some money

and I'm saving it to get a lawyer to reopen your case

and writes just like I speak

As an accountant, what did you count?

I worked with Mr. Eiffel

up until the Eiffel Tower was built.

- With Mr. Eiffel? - Yes, Eiffel. Gustave Eiffel.

What happened?

The blueprints called for building four stories.

I screwed up the accounts.

So you pocketed the 4th floor? - We only built 3!

I don't care! On the 3rd floor, I already feel nauseous!

What shall we write

- in your wfie's letter? - Say I love her.

- You already did. - We'll say it today and tomorrow.

Well, that's nice. And she says it too.

so we'll say, "I love you." And what else?

"I love you. I love you a lot

passionately, madly."

- That's all? - It's important to say it.

He'll read three pages of "I love you a lot,"

and he'll think you're a fool.

He? I'm not writing to him. I'm writing to my wife.

- He reads it. - Tough luck.

He's vital, like me.

I'm not asking you to think or comment.

- Just write my "I love you's." - It's monotonous.

- What? - I tell you

maybe I'm too intellectual, but the art of writing

is about the possibility of re-reading.

Your wife will want to re-read the letter.

She'll hide it in her clothes or under her pillow.

If it only says, "I love you," she won't want to re-read it.

She'll find it boring and monotonous.

- Nice...but boring. - She can't read!

- So why write? - I ask you to write, "I love you"

- and you make all this fuss! - I'm not.

- Then who is? Me? - Yes.

Let her put the letter where ever she wants!

"I love you" won't show the scenery.

No description, no nothing.

- "I love you" shows it all! - Why do people write books then?

You don't write books. You rip off whole floors!

I don't rip off!

- I show love in my own way. - Go tell Eiffel.

Mr. Eiffel. I still respect him.

- But you stole his floor. Nice. - What?

Better say "I love you" than steal a floor!

He'd have forgiven me, had I dared tell him!

Go say "I love you" to Mr. Eiffel!

I do love Gustave.

Are you done? Are you done?

"I love you, I love you, I love you..."

It goes on like that for three pages.

Could you read it all?

Yes. "I love you, I love you, I love you..."

Near the dog.

Over near the dog.

Go on, dig!

Dig here and there.

Wait.

There's another one.

Get out of here, asshole!

Get out of here!

Congratulations! Get him! To the cage!

I, the prison friend your husband calls "Eiffel Tower"

am writing today,

to say that your husband's courage and determination

will help him through his ordeal

and he'll soon be out.

I'm sending a song inspired by our life here

a song dedicated to you.

"I'm sending a song inspired by our life here

a song dedicated to you."

So without that dog, he'd have escaped.

Maybe.

Do you want me to sing the song? - Yes.

If you ain't lucky enough.

To have a dad in jail

And a mom who had the supreme decency

to kill herself by gracefully inhaling a gas pipe.

If you've never stolen

or picked the pockets of innocent bystanders.

There ain't nothing to forgive.

You just ain't our kind of guy.

We steal jewels and garbage cans.

From weirdos and jokers alike.

So sorry, good people.

This is a poor man's ballad!

If you ain't lucky enough.

To be supremely illiterate.

If you don't know plated handcuffs

from golden cufflinks.

If you've never broken the law

or the virtue of a poor maiden

They can never convict you, lad

Everybody should be so lucky!

Behold the jails, the stockades.

Behold the guillotine's sharp blade!

So sorry good people.

This is a poor man's ballad.

Next time it's the guillotine!

- What's going on? - I want to love you too!

Don't say that!

You'll be better off with me than at the hotel.

I'll protect you.

I must find someone else to read my letters.

When will you visit your husband? - When I get permission.

I'm sorry.

The writer, is he trying to teach you how to write?

- You're silly. - You're not answering.

I am answering.

But why all these questions? Who cares?

You'll have to learn to live without me.

It was a miscarriage of justice!

They'll find out one day. Don't say that.

He needs a father. I can't do it.

That's a horrible thing to ask. I can't do it!

You can.

- Because you're stong. - No, I'm not.

Not now...

You are. You're beautiful!

I don't care.

I'll cherish this image.

I don't want to forget you!

Let fate decide. Who knows...

- When are you leaving? - On the next boat.

Shouldn't I come to Cayenne?

Isn't one jailbird enough?

What do I tell the kid?

Not to trust anyone.

"Jean Valjean's escape"

Where's the kid? He's not working?

Maybe he's working outside.

- Get him to work! - Yes, sir!

Weird how he vanishes whenever we play a movie.

- Find the kid? - Yes, sir, in the bathroom.

- He's a bit sick. - No sick people here.

- I ain't paying no doctor! - Yes, sir.

In the mine, there's an underground river and a well.

Between the two, there's about 50 yards of underground water.

It will take about 2 minutes to cross the water, without breathing.

Then we climb up the well.

Climb 300 feet up the well?

We'll see about that later! The hardest thing is to

manage the 2 minutes without breathing.

Count!

I can't. - Come on! 90 seconds ain't the end of the world.

I managed to do it. Let's try again.

Okay, okay! Anybody here want to tackle my champ?

Nobody? 100 bits to whoever beats my champ!

100 bits! The champ's tired.

He's getting tired. 100 bits! Cash!

Me, sir.

Come over.

It's his decision. He's a courageous little boy!

Wait, wait. 20 bits if you can hit him. Anywhere!

Eiffel Tower's coming back!

100 big ones to put a rope in the well.

Say what? -100 big ones to put a rope in the well!

- Where's the money? - In Paris.

You pay upfront. How will you reach the well?

In the mine, after work. Just leave us.

- How many of you? - Just two.

That's 200.

- So? - He wants 200.

- You've got it? - Unless my wife spent it!

You said you'd give me more!

More? You're a greedy one.

No, sir, but lawyers cost a lot.

Then listen, I know people who'd pay a lot for hair like yours.

Really? - Yes. And if you want more, much more

I can introduce you to some fine people.

- People? - Yes, we'll share...

Listen, the man I told you about is here.

He's a notary. That's almost like a lawyer.

- Yes, sir. - Go ahead.

Four glasses at once! That's good.

Keep an eye on her. Any problems, just call me.

Come on, help me.

Go ahead.

There's no rope.

You ok?

I can't, Henri, I can't.

I can't anymore.

It's slippery.

Help me! - I got you. - I'm slipping!

- I can't anymore. - Don't let go.

Henri, I can't.

I can't. I'm slipping.

Hold on! - I can't - Come on. You can do it.

- Pull me! - I got you!

- Hold me. - Use both hands Eiffel Tower.

Hold on, dammit.

To the cage.

Let's go.

Go and get your mother.

Someone's waiting for her.

Mom, someone's here to see you.

Madam, we regretfully inform you

that, while attempting to escape from jail

your husband passed away today at Fort Joux.

What's your mother up to now?

Come on, gentlemen, let's go.

Fortin! Fortin! Fortin!

Anyone who was in the Verdun hospital remembers that day.

It was snowing when Kid Marcel and his challenger

private second class Henri Fortin entered the makeshift ring.

The fight was a benefit for the wounded and war widows.

There, Henri Fortin, age 23

experienced his first three minutes of happiness.

That moment changed his life.

It gave him courage to leave his childhood manager,

who'd used his strength and abused his innocence

to the point of not letting the boy go to school.

Stop. Stop.

Ladies and gentlemen.

I have been informed, just now

that the war is over!

For the record, they stopped fighting on that day of peace.

Three months later,

Henri Fortin became a middleweight champ.

He kept the title for 13 years, until 1931.

But that's another story.

May I distrub you?

- Please do. - The manager says he's never

seen a critic applaud. I wanted to thank you.

I just do this to pay my way through college.

It'll be published in the morning?

I can read you some.

Yes, please.

"Tonight at the Opera we saw the umpteenth performance of Cosette

but, alas, a Cosette without Cosette.

We cannot understand why they made a star

out of Elise Renoir,

whose clumsiness and blunt point work

only makes us nostalgic for the great Anna Pavlova."

Why did you appauld then?

Maybe I'm not reading this right, who knows?

Will you really print this?

And the rest, which you didn't let me finish.

I'm sure that if Victor Hugo had known you, he'd have wanted

to be a choreographer, or something like that.

That's funny.

Here, this is yours.

I'd keep it... - Keep it! You can keep my pen!

You keep the flowers.

Thanks.

I don't dare ask who they're from?

Isn't it a bit early to be jealous? - No.

The same night Henri Fortin gave up boxing

after a dreadful fight

that almost left him blind. We were in 1931

a few years away

from what would become the most miserable of times

and from Henri Fortin's painful rebirth.

Henri Fortin - Boxing Champion MOVERS

Anybody can beat a black man in the snow!

They beat the hell out of you!

Be careful! Great pianists have played this piano.

Yes, sir.

What's the solution, your Eminence?

There's only one solution, General. Free the hostages!

- The terrorists! - The hostages!

Hostages which you picked at random.

Terrorists, who cowardly killed 3 of our men in the subway.

Push this way.

Lift them out!

- You alright my son? - Yes, father.

Let me explain...what's going on in our time.

It is the wicked plot,

of a tyrant or a traitor

against people who are somewhat normal

indifferent and very kind.

And then...I mean usually...

Calm down! You seem aawfully flustered!

It's always about maidens.

Like the maiden's lover wishes to ruin

the traitor's plot...and that's you know...

That's his story? - Yes, that what I just said.

That's Jean Valjean's story.

A bit shorter than Victor Hugo's novel.

I made it short and snappy, unlike Hugo's novel which is

full of holes and gaps and inconsistencies. Whereas my story.

People have been calling me Jean Valjean.

That's because you're strong.

Strong? - Yes, he was strong! It happened at a time...

it was quite a period, quite some time ago.

A horse carriage got stuck in the mud.

He lifted it up to recuse a guy who'd gotten caught underneath it.

He lifted the carriage and saved the guy's life.

It was beautiful. - That's why. I lifted a piano recently.

A guy was caught underneath. - Yes, yes! I mean

in those days, horse-drawn carriages were fashionable.

Now it's pianos.

Do you know someone who could read me the book?

I'm sorry, Mrs. Ziman.

Dancers of Jewish origins are no longer allowed to perform.

You know I'm Catholic.

Yes, but you converted to Judaism to marry your husband.

You're right.

I'm a double Jew and I'm very proud of it.

Will she replace me?

In order to be objective

Radio Paris invited the Vice-President

of the Anti-Jewish Press Association

to share his views.

- Then what, Dad? - Coming.

"One day, Don Quixote saw 30 or 40 windmills.

30 or 40 windmills." Period.

"Looking at his squire, he said:"

Colon, open quotes...

What's up? - The show's cancelled.

Just for you? - What do you think?

What about the house in Normandy?

Hi honey, how are you? Studying?

It looks like I have a contact in Switzerland,

to help us across the boarder. - You just want to run away?

I'm no hero, Elise. I'm too soft for the Resistance.

I only want to save you.

What did you do to be hated so much?

Our concierge, who know her stuff, keeps telling me:

"You Jews are all good or all bad. No middle ground."

If you're not a bad Jew, you do what Jesus did

you switch religions!" - Funny. Then expect to be crucified.

I already am! I'm married to you. - So am I!

Happy birthday. - It's not my birthday. - Open it.

The Marshal wants us to celebrate Mother's Day

every year. - Every year?

To forget the husbands at war.

It's pretty. I'll always keep it.

If the concierge asks, you don't know where we're going.

Last trip. - You're driving the truck?

We wanted to take the train, but with all the checkpoints...

Shall I give her the keys? - Yes.

The truck ain't comfortable.

We don't mind, we're after safety.

Okay, for the truck then. - Thank you.

Without your new address, I can't forward the mail.

I'll write you when we get it.

You know you can trust some people?

I know, Mrs. Martin, thanks.

You're leaving for good? - Yes.

I'll drive them. Take the train. - What?

Take the train. Here are the tickets.

1st class. - 1st class. Thanks!

Thank you so much.

Good luck, good luck.

What do you do?

Until last week, I was a lawyer and my wife a dancer.

Until last week? - That's why if we run into a checkpoint

you must let us off and we'll cut through the field.

No problem. Would you do me a favor?

Of course. - Could you read me this?

It's big! - We have a way to go.

Tell me about Jean Valjean. People say I'm like him.

In this book, everybody looks like everybody.

It's full of people you've always known.

I can tell you about Cosette.

I danced her 49 times.

How can I put it?

The story begins with a mistake.

Jean Valjean is sent to jail for stealing bread.

Today, it might seem incredible,

but stealing bread was a major crime then. Those were

miserable days! Almost as miserable as today.

So he was jailed at Cayenne... - Wasn't it at Toulon, Dad?

Your right honey, thanks.

And poor Jean Valjean, he wasn't lucky enough

or rich enough, to get a good lawyer.

He got 19 years of hard labor.

And when, after his 18 years of hard labor, he got his freedom

back, if you want to call that freedom...

In those days, when they set a prisoner free

they gave him a convict's passport.

He had to have it stamped whereever he went.

A bit like the yellow star our people wear nowadays.

One night, on the road, Jean Valjean

exhausted, unable to find room and board anywhere

knocked on a bishop's door.

A knock that changed his destiny

and made a new man out of him.

Come in.

I was told to knock here.

Could I have some soup and a place to sleep? I'll pay.

Come in, sir.

The name's Jean Valjean. I'm an ex-convict.

Yes, ma'am, hard labor.

My passport says, "Dangerous!"

That's the Lord's business.

Hand me your things.

Mrs. Magloirem please, set a new plate.

We will be eating presently.

And while you eat, sir

We'll make your bed. - You let me eat, you call me sir?

Mrs. Magloire, in honor of our guest,

go get the sliver cutlery and the candlesticks.

You must be surprised, sir, to see such wealth

in my house, when I should be the poorest man around.

But the candlesticks

and the sliverware come from my grandmother.

They're dear to me.

Lord. Give us your blessing and please bless

the food you have given us so generously.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

Hand me your plate, sir.

Don't forget to put the white linen on the bed in the alcove.

Your Eminence!

The man's gone! He stole the silverware.

Why on earth take such a man in?

Lucky he didn't cut our throats too!

At least I'd put the candlesticks in my room.

Look at what the man was carrying!

We checked his passport and searched him.

I knew he'd had supper at your place. We arrested him.

But...but why

didn't you tell these gentlemen

that I'd given them to you?

And moreover...you forgot your candlesticks

I'd given them to you too.

Why did you take them?

Go get the gentleman's candlesticks.

Go on, get them.

You gave him this? - Of course!

I had nothing else to offer.

So then we can let him go?

But of course.

Return his goods.

Take them,

please, sir.

And no longer belong to evil, but to good.

"It's your soul I'm buying."

Good priest! - He's a bishop!

To boot!

Looks like a checkpoint.

You sure? - Sure looks like one.

Cut through the field, we'll meet further down.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you, sir. - Goodbye, sir.

We'll continue later.

- What's the house like? - Ready to move into.

Many people can't read? - More than we think.

But they can still be nice.

Could the gentleman still go to school?

After the war, I'll teach him. You'll study together.

After the war, I'll take up sports. I'm winded!

Thanks.

I owe you more than Jean Valjean owed the bishop.

What happens next? - Where were we?

He just got the candlesticks.

Then comes the little chimney-sweep.

Come on. Climb in.

It was a real checkpoint. - We got 'em.

Who's the chimney-sweep?

I'll tell you. I like this truck.

What do you want? - My coin, sir.

What coin? - Under your foot.

Buzz off! - My coin.

Buzz off! - My coin.

Buzz off!

Little chimney-sweep. Little chimney-sweep.

Your coin! Your coin!

Please forgive me.

See that furniture?

Doesn't go with the house.

Goes to well, you mean!

I'm almost sure they're Jews. - Easy to find out.

There, that's the last piece.

We're done, Mr. Ziman.

Here, sir, I made you a sandwich.

Very kind. Thanks. So, after the chimney-sweep?

I told you, everything changed. He became obsessed with good deeds.

He sold the silverware and the candlesticks.

Not the candlesticks! - You're right. And then...

What's that? - A clothespin.

Read it.

"The Germans are here to

arrest all the Jews. A caring friend."

Salome, grab your doll! - Salome, quick!

Quick, we've got to go! - The furniture!

Drop us off at the station.

What's going on? - Just drop us off at the station.

You can't leave the furniture! - Please to the closest station!

Hello, is this the police?

I want to report a moving truck.

It has "Henri Fortin, Boxing Champion" written on it.

It's carrying Jews.

If I pay you 10,000 Francs, would you drive us to the boarder?

I've got a contact. I'll pay your men to return by train.

We're moving all week long. - 20,000?

I'd move a circus for that price. But I've got commitments.

On the road, I'd have the time to read you "Les Miserables."

It's just beginning to get good, with Gavroche,

Cosette, Javert, Marius, Fantine, and the Thenardiers.

Who? - The Thenardiers!

Who's that? - It's you, me. When we get very angry,

we become a Thenardier.

Over here, ma'am.

Do you know anyone who could keep my girl for a while?

I have a job in town.

That's a cute little girl. What's her name?

Cosette, ma'am - What a nice name!

You know someone? - I have my two angels.

They're yours? - Me and my husband's.

They're lovely. You think you could take care of her?

How old was Cosette?

When Fantine left her: 3 years old.

When Mr. Madeleine freed her: 7 or 8.

Same as when I arrived at the Guillaumes.

This is really my story.

In the history of the world, only 2 or 3 stories

keep recurring forever.

Yes, but here I'm both Cosette and Jean Valjean! It's powerful.

Wait, you lost me.

When you talk about Fantine, I see my mother.

The Thenardiers are just like the Guillaumes.

So Cosette has got to be me.

So long as you're not Javert!

You're sure there are only 2 or 3 stories?

How many times have the Jews had to hit the road?

And then? - Then things got much worse for Fantine.

She had to sell her hair, her teeth. Even her body.

She died of sorrow. - Incredible.

How old were you?

7 or 8 years old.

Like Cosette.

The boys wanted to go home,

we'd been gone 2 years.

In Belgium,

in Waterloo. It wasn't called that yet.

So the Emperor...

I don't like this. What are you doing behind me?

I don't like having people behind me.

Since Waterloo, I hate it.

We had English in front and behind.

English in front and behind!

They were everywhere! And the English are not nice people!

They're cruel. Go fetch water. Take the bucket and fetch water.

"Suddendly, the bucket seemed very light.

An enormous hand had grabbed the handle and lifted it up.

She looked up. A tall figure was walking beside her

in the darkness.

With her keen instincts,

the child felt no fear."

Let me carry this, little girl.

Come on.

How old are you? - Eight, sir.

Who are your folks? - I don't know.

Your name?

Where do you live? - At the Thenardiers.

Anybody home?

What's up? - I need gas.

I open at 6.

Tell him we'll pay well.

We can't wait: We'll pay well.

What's well?

What's well? - Whatever he wants.

What do you want?

1,000 francs. - Ridiculous.

You asked for it. - Say it's okay.

It's okay.

A Thenardier.

You seem to be a rich man, sir.

To do good, one must be generous.

10 gold coins. - You here that, Ma?

He's offering 20 gold coins for all our suffering.

Selling our daughter for 30 coins would be a sin.

50 gold coins and she leaves now.

If you offer 50 coins so easily,

then you can manage 100!

Ma'am, kindly pack her belongings.

Here's an order which authorizes me to take her now.

Who'll vouch for it? - Me.

Who are you? - Mr Madeleine, Mayor of Montreuill!

Fetch her or I'll have you arrested.

Don't take it like that. We agree.

Don't we? -Of course we do.

"Cosette was leaving. She did not know with whom

or where she was headed.

All she understood was that she was leaving the Thenardiers.

Nobody thought of saying goodbye

nor has she thought of saying goodbye to anyone.

She was leaving...leaving...

leaving that house where she'd been hated and felt hatred

in her heart. She felt something.

She left as if she was getting closer to God.

Boarding School for Girls

And then?

Then? He took her to a convent.

What's your name? - Salome Fortin.

What grade?

I'm in 5th grade, at Mozart High.

Mozart. - You're old enough for communion?

Yes, ma'am.

How about you, sir? Are you religious?

Am I...? - Religious.

Oh yes! I go to chruch every week.

I take my girl as well.

Oh, yes. I am a believer. Really.

If I weren't a believer, I wouldn't have come here.

She studied catechism? - Oh, yes!

Well...she started. Right?

She's intimidated. She is usually more talkative.

Tell the Mother you studied catechism.

I studied catechism. - See?

You're not worried that she's starting here in midterm?

So long as she starts, it'll be good for her, I think.

Will you be able to see your daughter often?

Oh, yes! Whenever I can.

You brought her up on your own?

Yes. Like a boy.

So I want you to make a girl out of her.

Right, Salome? You'd like that?

We'll make her into a girl.

Why are you doing this?

What's the use of crying now?

Why all the screaming?

Are we helping our kid, by destorying each other?

He's a good man. It's a good school.

Salome will be saved.

You're a pain in the neck. Always afraid.

Now, I'm the one who's afraid! Cute.

You're a coward! - Again...

You see me in the Resistance? - No way. No way.

If I join the underground fighters, it's all over.

They'll all get arrested. Within five minutes.

You coward. You're scared shitless.

I'm not a coward. I'm a Jew and that's obvious.

What can I do?

If I go to see our daughter in her Catholic school

they'll know immediately that she's Jewish.

You like to think that. You're so scared you like it.

Now what? What do we do?

Tell me, since you're so strong and so smart!

Divorce, that's what we do!

Great! We divorce! That's a great way to save Salome.

It would save her. I can change my name, go back to the Opera

and I'd get my girl back! I want my girl!

You have many boarders? - Before the war, up to 500 of them.

Now there are only 21. Thanks to Salome.

Well I leave her in your good hands. Goodbye, Salome.

No kiss for Daddy?

Goodbye, baby.

I'll get going.

Take care on the road. - I will.

You'll come back often? - Very often.

Salome, say the "Our Father" for me, quick.

You're sure about the school?

No problem. It's under control.

Let's get back to "Les Miserables."

We were with Javert.

How can I put it... Madeleine...

has redeemed himself. - Say "Mr. Madeleine."

Otherwise he might think it's a woman.

I'm not that brain-damaged! - Between the two of you

I'm getting confused! - I'm sorry.

Mr. Madeleine is fine.

Let me explain this. Javert really likes Jean Valjean.

That is his problem.

He's also pulled,

by the friendship he feels for the guy.

It's like a boxer you fought but that you respect.

But Javert is still a cop!

He's a cop. - That I don't like.

You really feel good about the Mother Superior?

I do. She's just like the bishop in the book.

Which God's the real one? Yours or Dad's?

Both, I believe. - Why are the prayers different?

Because he loves to hear prayers.

It must be here. Your sawmill.

You want me to drive you?

We'll split here. It's safer.

Well, as they say... - May I kiss you?

My pleasure.

Well let me kiss you too.

If you pick our furniture up, keep the antique dresser.

Which one is it? - The most beautiful.

You paid me more than enough.

Call it my candlesticks.

Bye, Valjean.

Dress warm. There's snow at the top.

The doll. Your kid forgot her doll in my truck.

Doesn't matter.

Beware of the Javerts! They're worse than the Germans!

I'll wait. Just in case your contact isn't any good.

You remember the password?

"Our best years are yet to come."

That ain't enough. - Buffalo Bill's son

doesn't shoot as well as his father." - You know the deal?

My wife.

I'll introduce you to your traveling companions.

You're in luck. They're leaving tonight.

Mrs. Ziman, my wife.

They said a moving truck carrying Jews? - Yes, chief.

There he is! Move the checkpoint down the road.

I'll make him talk.

Going by Pontariler? Give me a ride?

Can you read? - Read? Yes.

Welcome aboard.

Why ask if I can read?

I like people to read to me.

Here. The page is marked.

You often get people who can't read?

It happens. There.

Where are you coming from? - Wherever I want.

You're a retired prize-fighter?

Still healthy.

There.

I'm trying to go to Switzerland.

You get around. You wouldn't have a contact?

You see, I'm...Jewish.

Congratulations. You don't look it.

Well, it's Javert. Great character.

Great? Great bastard! - If being

a professional makes you a bastard

then he's the worst bastard of all.

I'm at your disposal, Javert.

I'd rather we talk in my office.

Mr. Madeleine.

A man's trapped under a carriage!

Don't move, we'll get you out.

Don't stay there! The carriage's balanced. Move over.

Pull him out.

Only one man could pull that off. Jean Valjean, a convict.

What's your job? - If I tell you,

you'll think I'm a bastard.

Meaning what? - Meaning you're not only hauling furniture.

Tell me where you dropped off your load of Jews, will you?

Load of what? - Of Jews.

Listen, Mister, you better get out.

Yes, but not without you. Where are your Jews?

What's on your mind?

What's on my mind?

That nothing ages as quickly as happiness.

That's on my mind. - That's pretty.

Use it in your next trial.

Next trial?

If God would only let me plead one more time.

Next time, you stay underwater.

So say your prayers.

You believe in God?

I believe that chance

and happenstance will get me out of here.

Of course. Keep going.

So?

You must travel light.

Only keep your valuables.

No questions?

It's not the best time, but could I have your autograph?

Come on, hurry up.

Quick.

Don't move.

Switzerland's over there, behind the trees.

I'll go first, I'll look out for the border patrol.

You stay here. Watch for my lamp.

Three blinks mean you can come.

One blink means don't move.

One or three, got it?

Is that really Switzerland? - Yes. Stay put.

Good thing we left Salome.

They're there. About 20 of them.

Shall I signal?

Pay attention, there are two more.

Andre, get up! Get up!

Go, go away!

Let me go.

Let me go.

Behind there are two more.

Get them all on the trucks.

Francois?

Where are you?

Damn cows!

Where are you?

Look at what these assholes did.

Hurry up instead of fooling around.

What's that? - I don't know. I found him when I came back.

You called? - I just got back.

Miss? Give me number 32 in Pontarlier.

Robert? Could you come right away?

It's Francois. He did something stupid while cleaning his gun.

There's blood all over. Come quickly.

I didn't. What are you saying?

He's got enough problems.

May I speak to you? - What now?

First, I'd like to apologize.

Then I'll hand you my resignation - Denied.

I thought you were Valjean and I ratted on you.

You don't anymore?

He's in jail.

What's that? - That's the truth.

That's why I apologize. And resign.

Hey, champ, do you hear me?

When they come back for you, pretend you're in a coma.

I think he's in a coma.

So? - It's looking good.

I spoke with a guy who works for the militia.

They'll release some prisoners by faking escapes.

But that means that we must work with the Germans.

50-50 - I don't get it.

50-50? - We rob whatever we want and

share it on a 50-50 basis. - Why don't they do it themselves?

They don't know where the dough is.

These guys are motherfuckers!

Who says they won't shoot us during our escape?

I told you. They don't know where to find the money sources.

This is Robert Blame, called Doc.

He took care of you.

We call him Fine because he always says, "Fine!"

They call me The Bill. I'll tell you why.

I saw you fight. You looked the same.

Where was he? - I found him this morning

on the smugglers' path.

So?

I can remove the bullets, but

he needs a hospital or he'll lose his leg.

With his kind of I.D., no hospital.

His name is Ziman. - Andre.

Don't worry, Mr. Ziman, we won't take you to a hospital.

My wife

Keep him talking, that's good.

Was your wife with you? What happened?

They shot them all.

Mr. Ziman.

My wife.

Don't worry ladies.

Come on.

Francoise will take care of you.

You, take the bed over on the left.

You. There's a bed there. And there.

A girl said they do experiments! - Where? - There!

Honey, we had a problem crossing into Switzerland.

I'm not athletic, and when I jumped

I broke my leg. I can't walk

but some nice farmers took us in.

I can't safely give their address, but

Mommy and I are happy we left you in your school.

Good news? - Yes, Mother.

What's wrong?

When Dad writes, Mom usually adds a little note.

Next time, Mom will write

and Dad will forget the note. Can I see the envelope?

They're still in France. The Jura is in France.

Ziman, it's the doctor.

Feeling better?

I'll feel better when I hear from my family.

What's the news?

You know.

Feeling better?

How's our cripple?

Must I stay here long?

Ask the doctor.

For your safety, we thought

we'd move you to a barn where there's less traffic.

Thank you, ma'am.

Eggs, bread fingers,

let me give you a shot.

I must tell you, you're being pampered.

I'd love breakfasts like that every now and then.

I'd break a leg for that!

Absolutely.

I brought your things.

Thanks. - What's going on?

I'm sort of a fugitive. Police could show up.

What's that? - It's complicated.