All language subtitles for Le Docteur Knock - Louis Jouvet- Louis De Funes- Guy Lefranc-1951

The story takes place in 1923

- Do you have all your luggage?
- Yes, indeed, Dr. Parpalaid

Jean can stow them with him.

We'll all fit nicely in the back.

The car is so roomy, and the
jumpseats so comfortable!

Not like the flimsy
construction nowadays!

Everything's alright? You've put in
the gas? In both cylinders?

How about wiping
the sparkplugs a bit?

It might be a good idea -
we just drove 7 miles.

Cover up the carburetor; better use an
old scarf rather than a rag.

I'll sit here on this jumpseat.

Really, it's more like a folding armchair.

I'd really miss this sportscar,
if we were ever dumb enough to sell it.

Really, it's a cross between
a sportscar and a double phaeton.

You can't manage without a car here.

Especially in our profession.

As of now, you're my successor.
And you've made a good deal.

You were lucky to run
into a motivated seller.

My husband was determined to finish out
his career in a big city.

It's thanks to that little fancy
that you got my practice for a song.

You think so?

It's obvious!

Well, it's not as if
I drove a hard bargain.

If it weren't for my wife's rheumatism,
I think I might have turned you down.

Mme Parpalaid has rheumatism?

Oh dear, yes!

Is there a lot of rheumatism in the area?

I'd say there's nothing but.

Well, that sounds interesting.

Yes, if you want to study rheumatism.

I was thinking of patients.

Not in that sense. The people here would
no more think of seeing the doctor...

...for their rheumatism
than you'd see a priest for rain.

How annoying.

At this rate we'll never get there!

Thank goodness I brought my umbrella.

If rheumatism's no good,
then how about pneumonia and pleurisy?

They're rare.
The climate is harsh, you know.

All the weak babies die in the first
6 months, without seeing a doctor.

The ones who survive are tough as nails.

However, we do have
apoplexy and heart cases.

They don't suspect a thing
and drop dead around 50.

But you haven't gotten rich
looking after sudden deaths.

No, indeed. We still have the flu.

Not the regular flu -
that doesn't bother them.

I mean the big worldwide flu epidemics.

But that's once in a blue moon. If I
have to wait for the next epidemic...

Well, I've seen two:
in 1889-90 and in 1918.

And in 1918 we had
a very high mortality rate here.

Higher than the big cities,
relatively speaking.

Isn't that so? You compared the numbers.

We were ahead of 83 other provinces.

Did they come to you for attention?

Yes, especially toward the end.

And we collected
a lot of fees at Michaelmas.

Excuse me?

Here, patients pay
their bill at Michaelmas.

Look how smoothly the motor starts!

You see? We're moving!

What does that mean - Michaelmas?

Is it like 'a month of Sundays'
or 'ma�ana'?

Michaelmas is one of the most
important dates on the calendar.

It's at the end of September.

And here we are
at the beginning of October.

You certainly picked your moment to sell.

But surely, if someone comes to you
just for a simple consultation...

...he pays you on the spot?

No, at Michaelmas...it's the custom.

But if he only comes
for one single appointment.

And you don't see him again
for the rest of the year?

At Michaelmas.

Anyway, people almost always come
for just one single appointment.

- What?
- Why, yes.

Well, what about regular patients?

What do you mean?

People you see several times
per week or month?

You hear that? Regular customers
like the butcher or the baker!

The doctor is like all beginners.
Living in a dream world.

Stop! Stop!

We shouldn't have stopped.
It'll be hard to start again.

We could take advantage of this
brief stop to take a little stroll.

And enjoy the view!

Believe me, here you have
the best kind of clientele

The sort that leaves you independent.

Independent! That's a good one!

I mean you're not at the mercy
of a few patients who could recover...

...from one day to the next,
and throw your budget out of whack.

If you're dependent on everybody,
you're not dependent on any individual.

In other words, I should have brought
a supply of worms and a fishing rod.

But maybe I'll find that when I get there.

The situation is becoming clear.

You have sold me, for several thousand,
a practice rather like this car.

At 19 francs it wouldn't be overpriced,
and at 25 it would be too much.

As I like to do things handsomely,
I'll give you 30 for it.

Thirty francs! For my sportscar?
I wouldn't sell it for 6,000.

That's what I expected.
So I can't buy it.

Too bad. I was thinking
of using it for storage.

As for your practice, I'd give it up
just as easily if it were possible.

I think that you're the victim
of a false impression.

I rather think
that I'm the victim of you.

Well, when I've been rooked,
I only blame myself.

Rooked! Don't let him
get away with that, my dear.

I would very much like
to set you straight, Dr. Knock.

And your payments are on a quarterly
schedule while the patients are annual.

We'll have to fix that.

What? You're not going to pay us
on the dates we agreed?

I long to pay you, madame, but I have
no authority over the calendar...

...and it's outside my power
to move Whatevermas.

Michaelmas!

I think it's going to rain. Perhaps
we could take shelter in that shed.

Sit down.

To be sure, medicine is a rich soil, but
the harvest doesn't grow all by itself.

Your youthful dreams
have led you astray a little.

Your suggestion is teeming with errors.

First of all, I'm 40. My dreams,
if I have any, are not youthful.

Very well. But you've never practiced.

Another error.

What? Didn't you tell me that you'd just
finished your thesis last summer?

Yes, 32 pages entitled "On supposed
states of health", with this epigraph...

...which I attributed to Claude Bernard:

"Healthy people are sick people
who don't know it."

There we agree.

On the basis of my theory?

No, on the fact that you are a beginner.

Excuse me, my studies
are recent, to be sure.

But my practice of medicine
goes back 20 years.

You practiced secretly,
without a license?

No, in public view, and not in some rural
backwater but over a 4,000 mile area.

I don't understand.

Yet it's simple enough.

Twenty years ago, having had to give up
the study of Romance languages...

...I was a salesman in the tie section
of a Marseille department store.

I lost my job, and walking around the
port, I saw a poster that a steamer...

...headed for the Indies needed
a doctor, no license required.

What would you have done in my place?

Well...nothing, no doubt.

Yes - you have no vocation. I applied.

As I have a horror of false situations,
I said at once, "Gentlemen...

...I could tell you I'm a doctor,
but I'm not a doctor.

And I will admit something worse: I don't
even know what my thesis will be about."

They answered that they didn't
require a licensed doctor...

...and they didn't give a damn
about my thesis.

That left 3 minutes
to discuss my salary.

But you didn't really have
any knowledge of medicine?

Since childhood, I've always read with
interest the medical news reports...

...as well as the "Directions for use"
printed on my parents' medicine bottles.

From the age of 9, I knew
by heart entire discourses...

...on the incomplete elimination
of the constipated.

These texts gave me an early familiarity
with the style of the profession.

My present method is the product of it.

You have a method?
I'd be curious to hear it.

I don't rely on words.

- I'd better take out the carburetor too.
- Go ahead.

As this is taking some time, I told him
to clean the carburetor.

But when you were on your ship,
how did you manage?

The final 2 nights before embarking,
I spent thinking.

My 6 months practising on board
confirmed my ideas.

Did you have many patients
to care for?

The crew and 7 passengers of very
limited means. 35 people in all.

That's a good number.

Any deaths?

Not one. It's against my principles.

I'm in favor of reducing mortality.

As we all are.

You too? I wouldn't have thought so.

I think that, despite all temptations,
we should attempt to save the patient.

There's some truth in what he says.

And did you have many patients?

- Thirty-five.
- What, everyone?

But how could the ship function?

We set up a rotating schedule.

But tell me now,
are you really a doctor?

I am very really and quite
doctorally a doctor.

And you intend to apply
your methods here?

Naturally, I'd prefer a large city.

How many people live in St.-Maurice?

3,500 altogether, I believe, and
nearly 6,000 in the surrounding area.

And the total number of the county?

Twice as many, at least.

The population is poor?

On the contrary,
very well-off, and even rich.

There are large farms.

Many people live off their income
or the revenue from their property.

Terribly tightfisted, though.

Any serious vices?

What do you mean?

Opium, cocaine, black masses,
sodomy, political convictions?

I've never heard of opium
or black masses.

As for politics, people are interested
in it the same as everywhere.

And adultery?

What about it?

Has it attained an exceptional
level of development?

Is there intense activity?

Your questions are extraordinary!

There are cheating wives,
but not to excess.

And it's so difficult -
people are always watching...

Good. And what about cults,
superstitions, secret societies?

In the past, maybe, but not now.

In sum, the era of medicine may begin.

It seems to me that you've botched
a magnificent opportunity.

You should be leaving here
with your pockets full of gold...

...sitting on a pile of securities
as thick as a mattress.

You, madame, with a triple string
of pearls around your neck.

Both of you in a fancy limousine,
not this primitive piece of junk.

Come back in 3 months
for your first payment.

I told you we could have done better
than rot here if only you knew how!

We'll see how Dr. Knock has managed
3 months from now.

- This is it.
- Thanks.

How's that ceiling going?

It should be finished soon.

- How long will this take?
- Oh, not long.

- What's this for?
- Sick people.

You're a real doctor.

Only you won't find many
sick people in St-Maurice.

More packages!

You're making a lot of work
for the delivery service.

You can take those two
over to the schoolteacher.

- Mr. Bernard?
- Yes. I'm going over there myself.

For you, Mariette. From Paris.

For me?

I'll bet you Dr. Knock has just come outside.

- How do you know?
- Take a look.

Has he been in yet?

Not once! That's what's bugging her!

Hello, Mr. Bernard.
I hope I'm not disturbing you?

No, Doctor. I should have
paid a call on you first.

I was impatient to meet with you.

We have so many urgent things
to do together.

I don't want to break up the valuable
partnership you had with my predecessor.

Partnership?

- I'll follow your lead to begin with.
- I don't quite understand...

Let's not change anything right away.
We'll make improvements later if necessary.

Whether it's public education,
or casual conversation...

...or private meetings between us,
I'll take my cue from you.

It's just that I don't
quite follow you, Doctor.

Well, weren't you constantly
in touch with Dr. Parpalaid?

I met him from time to time
at the bar in the Hotel de la Clef.

Sometimes we played billiards.

That's not what I meant.

That's all there was.

But how did you arrange
public education on hygiene?

Family education, whatever?

The thousand tasks that can only be done
by the doctor and the educator together?

We never did anything of the sort.

You preferred to work separately?

It's simpler than that.

We never had anything
to do with each other.

If I hadn't heard it from your own lips,
I wouldn't believe it.

What an unfortunate population,
abandoned to its own devices...

...as regards hygiene
and preventive medicine!

Gracious!

I'll bet they drink water ignorant of
the millions of bacteria in each mouthful.

Oh, certainly.

Do they even know what a microbe is?

I doubt it. Some of them know the word,
but they think it's some sort of fly.

Appalling.

Listen, Mr. Bernard,
we must do something.

I'm quite willing. I'm just afraid
I may not be much use to you.

Mr. Bernard, someone who knows you
told me you have a serious fault: modesty.

You're the only one unaware of your
moral authority and personal influence.

Forgive me for telling you this.
Nothing serious can be done without you.

You exaggerate, Doctor.

I can take care of
the sick without you.

But who will help me
to combat disease itself?

Who will inform these poor people of
the dangers assaulting them every moment?

Who will tell them that they must not
wait until they're on their deathbed...

...before calling the doctor?

They're very cavalier, I won't deny it.

Let's start at the beginning.

I've brought along
some slides and a projector.

I have materials for
some popular lectures.

Now, to start, a little lecture
all written out on typhoid fever.

The unsuspected forms it can take,
the countless methods of transmission:

Water, bread, milk, shellfish,
vegetables, salad, dust, breath, etc...

The weeks and months during which
it incubates, unsuspected...

...the deadly onslaught it suddenly
unleashes, the dreadful complications.

All illustrated with attractive
pictures: highly magnified bacilli...

...closeups of typhoid-laden excrement...

...infected ganglions...

...perforated intestines...

And not black and white - full color:
pink, brown, yellow and greenish white.

It's just that...I'm very impressionable.

If I get involved,
I'll never sleep again.

That's just what we want.

I mean, that's the startling effect
we want to produce on our listeners.

You, Mr. Bernard, will
grow accustomed to it.

But they shouldn't be able to sleep!

I'm not very strong. My parents had
a great deal of trouble raising me.

I know that these slides of microbes
are only pictures, but...

For those who aren't affected by our
first lecture, I'll hold another...

...with the innocent name:
"Germ-carriers".

It's been clearly demonstrated that
a person can be seemingly healthy...

...stout, with an excellent appetite -
and yet their system can be flooded...

...with trillions of deadly bacilli,
capable of infecting an entire province.

Based on theory and experience, I must
suspect everyone of a being germ-carrier.

You, for example; there's absolutely
no proof that you're not one.

Me! Doctor...

I'd like to meet anyone who could leave
this lecture in a lighthearted mood.

You think that I'm
a germ-carrier, Doctor?

Not you especially.
I was just making an example.

Goodbye, Mr. Bernard,
and thank you for your support.

Good morning, Mr. Mousquet.

It only requires a glance to see
how excellent your pharmacy is.

Meticulously well-ordered and
modern down to the smallest detail.

Doctor, you're too kind!

It's something that
I feel strongly about.

For me, a doctor who can't depend
on a first-class pharmacist...

...is like a general going
into battle without artillery.

Excuse me.

Shh - I'm talking to the Doctor!

I'm happy to see you appreciate
the importance of the profession.

And I suppose a facility like
yours reaps appropriate rewards...

...and you make a minimum
of 25,000 per year.

Income? Good God, I'd be
lucky to make half that!

But that's outrageous!
25,000 should be the minimum.

You have a competitor?

No one, for miles around.

You haven't had a history of
unfortunate-- a moment of distraction...

50 grams of laudanum
instead of castor oil?

Not the slightest incident in
20 years of practice, I assure you.

Well then...I hesitate to imagine...

My predecessor - was he
perhaps not up to the job?

That's a matter of opinion.

Dr. Parpalaid is an excellent man.

We were on the best of terms
in private life.

But his prescriptions didn't
add up to a very great volume?

Just so.

When I put together everything
I've learned about him...

...I wonder if he even
believed in medicine.

What you tell me affects me
more than I can say.

We have the two most admirable
professions known to man.

Isn't it shameful to see them
fall from the high level of power...

...and prosperity our predecessors left us?

The word sabotage comes to mind.

Yes, indeed. Putting aside
the question of money...

In a county like this you and I should
have trouble keeping up with the business.

Exactly.

As a point of principle all inhabitants
are ipso facto our patients.

All - that's a lot to ask.

I say all.

At one time or another in his life,
everyone can be a patient for the moment.

For the moment? Not at all.

A regular patient, a faithful patient.

But first they have to get sick!

"Get sick" - an old expression which
science today has made obsolete.

Health is just a word which we could
easily eliminate from our vocabulary.

There are people more or less afflicted
by more or less numerous ailments...

...in a more or less rapid
state of development.

Well, it's a nice theory.

A very modern theory, closely related to
the fine concept of the nation in arms...

...which forms the strength of our State.

You are a thinker, Dr. Knock, and
materialists can say what they want...

...but ideas run the world.

Listen. I may perhaps be presumptuous.

Bitter disillusionment may await me.

But if in a year you're not making
the 25,000 francs you deserve...

...if your wife doesn't have the gowns,
hats and stockings her status require...

...I authorize you to publicly insult me
and you'll be welcome to slap my face.

I'd be an ingrate not to thank you, and
a scoundrel not to help you all I can.

Count on me as I will be
counting on you.

One more question:
is there a town crier?

Yes, a man who makes
public announcements.

- The municipality employs him.
- Thank you.

- You're the town crier?
- Yes, sir.

Address me as "Doctor".

Answer "Yes, Doctor" or "No, Doctor."

And when you refer to me, be sure to say
"The Doctor said..." "The Doctor did..."

It's important.

When you talked about Dr. Parpalaid,
how did you refer to him?

We'd say, "He's a fine man,
but he's not very good."

That's not what I mean.
Did you say "The Doctor"?

No. "Mr. Parpalaid" or
"the doc" or even "Ravachol".

Why "Ravachol"?

It's a nickname he got,
but I never knew why.

And you didn't think he was very good?

Oh, he did fine for me.
But others didn't think so.

When you'd go to see him,
he wouldn't know.

Wouldn't know what?

What you had. Nine times out of ten,
he'd send you away saying...

...'It's nothing at all. You'll be fine tomorrow.'

Really!

Or else, he'd barely listen to you.

He'd say "Yes, yes", then go on about
something else, like his car.

As if you'd come for that!

Then prescribe some medicine for 4 sous;
sometimes just a herbal tea.

You know, if people are paying 8 francs
for an appointment, they don't like...

...to be given medicine
that costs just 4 sous.

And you don't need to see a doctor
to get a cup of camomile tea.

It really hurts me to hear this. But
I called you here to get some information.

What did you charge Dr. Parpalaid
for his announcements?

He never ordered any announcements.

What? For the entire
30 years he was here?

Not once in 30 years, I tell you.

You must have forgotten.
I can't believe it.

Well, what are your rates?

Three francs for the short route
and 5 for the large.

It seems a lot, but it's a lot of work.

If I could offer you some advice, sir...
- "Doctor"

Doctor...if you can afford
the extra two francs...

I'll take the large route.
You're available this morning?

Right now if you like.

Then here's the text of the announcement.

I'm used to all kinds of handwriting.
But could you maybe read it to me first?

"Dr. Knock, successor to Dr. Parpalaid,
presents his compliments to the town...

...and district of St.-Maurice, and has
the honor to announce that...

...in a spirit of philanthropy--"

"Philanthropy"

"...and to expose the disturbing inroads
made by all sorts of ailments...

...upon our hitherto
salubrious environment--"

Ain't that the truth!

"He will offer free consultations between
9:30 and 11:30AM to all residents."

Oh, that's a great idea! A generous idea!
It'll be much appreciated!

But you know, today's Monday.

If I make the announcement this morning,
they'll be arriving in 5 minutes.

As quick as that, you think?

And maybe you haven't realized
that Monday is market day?

Half the district will be here.

Everyone will hear it;
you won't have room to move.

I'll manage somehow.

There's also this: Monday's your chance
to see the most patients.

M. Parpalaid hardly ever
saw anyone that day.

If you see them for free...

You see, my friend, what I want
most is to help people.

If I wanted to make money,
I'd move to Paris or New York.

You've hit the nail on the head there.

People don't look after themselves.

They won't listen, and they
drive themselves too hard.

When they get sick,
they force themselves to go on.

They might as well be animals.

Well, I'm counting on you, my friend.

And make it good and loud, alright?

I can't come later, or I'll be too late.

Could you perhaps give me
my free consultation now?

Alright, but let's hurry.

I have a meeting with Mr. Bernard,
and with Mr. Mousquet.

I have to see them
before people start arriving.

What is the trouble?

Let me think.

After I've eaten, sometimes
I feel a sort of itch here.

It tickles, or rather, it scratches.

Now, let's not confuse matters.
Does it tickles, or does it scratch?

It scratches.

But it tickles too, sort of.

Show me the exact spot.

Here.

Where here?

There. Or maybe there...in-between.

Right in between? How is it over here
on the left, where my finger is?

It seems alright.

Does it hurt when I press my finger down?

Yes, I'd say that hurts.

Does it scratch more after you've
eaten calf's head vinaigrette?

I never eat it.

But I think that if I ate it,
it would scratch more.

Ah, that's very important.

How old are you?

Fifty-one, nearly 52.

Closer to 51 or 52?

Closer to 52. My birthday's
at the end of November.

My friend, do your work today just
as usual. Tonight go to bed early.

Tomorrow, stay in bed.
I'll come by to see you.

For you, my visits will be free, but
don't say anything. It's a favor.

You're too kind, Doctor.
But is it serious?

Not very serious
at the moment. There's time.

- Do you smoke?
- No, I chew.

Absolutely no chewing. Fond of wine?

- In moderation.
- Not a drop.

- Are you married?
- Yes, Doctor.

Complete abstinence
when it comes to that.

Can I eat?

As you're working today,
you can have a little soup.

Tomorrow, there will be
more serious restrictions.

For the moment, just stick
to what I've told you.

You don't think that it would be better
for me just to go to bed right away?

I really don't feel very well.

Be careful! In your case, it's harmful
to go to bed between sunrise and sunset.

Make your announcements as usual,
and wait calmly for this evening.

What's wrong with you?

Goodbye, Miss Mariette.

Tell the new arrivals that after 11:30
I can't see anyone.

At least not for a free consultation.

You're first, madame?

You're from the district?

I'm from the township.

From St.-Maurice?

I live at the large farm
on the road to Luch�re.

It belongs to you?

Yes, to my husband and me.

If you run it yourself,
you must have a great deal of work?

18 cows, 2 steers, 2 bulls,
the mare and the colt...

...six goats, a dozen pigs,
not to mention the poultry.

I feel for you. You must barely
have time to take care of yourself.

Oh, no.

And your health suffers.

I wouldn't say that exactly.

I'm more tired.

Yes, you call it tiredness.

Put out your tongue.

- You don't have much appetite.
- No.

- You're constipated.
- Yes, a bit.

Breathe.

Cough.

Did you ever fall from a ladder
when you were little?

I don't remember it.

Do you have any pain here when you
go to bed at night? Any stiffness?

Yes, sometimes.

Try to remember.
It must have been a tall ladder.

It could have been.

It was about 10 feet tall,
leaning against a wall.

You fell backwards, fortunately
landing on your left buttock.

Oh, yes!

Did you ever consult Dr. Parpalaid?

No, never.

Why?

He didn't give free consultations.

Sit down.

- Are you aware of your condition?
- No.

Just as well.

- Do you wish to be cured or not?
- I do.

I wish to warn you from the start that
it will be very long and very expensive.

Oh, my God! Why?

Because you can't cure in 5 minutes an
ailment that's been 40 years in the making.

Forty years?

Yes, since you fell from the ladder.

And how much will it cost?

How much are your cows worth right now?

It depends on the markets and the size.

But they should fetch
at least 400 or 500 francs.

And the pigs?

Some are worth more than a thousand.

Very well! It will cost you
about 2 pigs and 2 cows.

Nearly 3,000 francs! It'll wipe us out.

If you prefer to make a pilgrimage,
I won't stand in your way.

A pilgrimage also costs a lot
and it doesn't often work.

But what can I have
that's so terrible?

I'll explain it to you
with this blackboard.

Here is a cross-section
of your spinal column.

Here you see your Turk's Nexus
and here is your Clarke's Column.

You follow me? Well then,
when you fell off the ladder...

...your Turk and your Clarke slipped
a fraction of an inch opposite.

You'll say it's very little. Just so.
But it's in a very bad position.

And then you have here a continual
strain on your multipolars.

Now, you won't die tomorrow.
You can wait.

Oh, I was so unlucky
to fall off that ladder!

I even wonder if it wouldn't be better
to leave things as they are.

Money is so hard to come by.

And old age lasts so long,
for all the pleasure one gets from it.

To put it bluntly -
could you cure me more cheaply?

Provided it's still done properly.

I would suggest
putting you under observation.

It'll cost you next to nothing.

After a few days you can see for
yourself if things are getting worse.

Then you can decide for yourself.

Yes, that's it.

Go back home. Did you drive here?

No, I walked.

You must try to find a car.

Go to bed as soon as you get home,
in a room where you'll be undisturbed.

Close the shutters and the curtains
so the light won't bother you.

Let no one speak to you.

No solid food for a week.

A glass of mineral water every two hours.

At most, half a biscuit dipped in milk,
in the morning and the evening.

But I'd prefer you
to do without the biscuit.

You can't say I'm prescribing
expensive cures!

At the end of a week,
we'll see how you're doing.

If you're feeling well, if your
strength and spirits have returned...

...we'll know the problem
is less severe than we thought...

...and I'll be the first to say so.

But if you're feeling generally weak,
with headaches and lassitude...

...we can't afford to hesitate,
and we'll start treatment.

- Does that suit you?
- Whatever you say.

My instructions are
on this piece of paper.

I'll come see you soon.

Mariette, help this lady
downstairs and find her a car.

You must be very surprised
to see me here, Doctor.

A little, madame.

You might be thinking this is how
sadly things have declined...

...when a Miss Pons, who can trace her
family back to the 13th century...

...and is related to all the nobility
and upper class of the province...

...is reduced to standing in line
with the poor of St.-Maurice.

Admit it, Doctor, you've seen better.

Unfortunately yes, madame.

I won't say that my revenues are what
they used to be, or that I still have...

...the 6 servants, and 4 horses which
I did before the death of my uncle.

I even had to sell off
La Michouille: 400 acres of land...

...which I inherited
from my maternal grandmother.

The name La Michouille has greco-roman
roots, according to the local priest.

It's derived from 'mycodium'
which means 'hatred of mushrooms'.

That's why there's never been a single
mushroom on the estate...

...as if the soil itself hated them.

Now what with taxes and upkeep,
it only brought in a piddling sum.

The farmers take advantage and
want reductions and postponements.

I've had enough of it!

All things considered, don't you think
I was right to get rid of the place?

I do, madame, especially
if you like mushrooms.

And if you've
invested your money wisely.

You've hit on the crux of the matter.

I wonder day and night if I've invested
it wisely; I worry terribly.

In particular, I bought stock
in coal mines.

Doctor, what do you
think of coal mines?

In general, they're excellent value;
a little speculative, maybe...

...and they can abruptly go up
and down for no reason.

Oh, my God, you make my flesh crawl!

I have the impression I bought
at the top of the market.

I've sunk more than 50,000 francs in them.

It's mad to invest so much in coal
when you're not very wealthy.

Such an investment shouldn't make up
more than a tenth of your total assets.

No more than a tenth?

If it's less than that, then
it wouldn't exactly be madness?

Not at all.

You reassure me, doctor.
And I need it.

You wouldn't believe how I worry
about managing my finances.

Sometimes I tell myself I need other
worries to drive away that one.

Of course I can't have
romantic adventures at my age...

...or take a trip around the world.

But no doubt you're wondering why I
lined up here for a free consultation.

Whatever your reason was,
I'm sure it was excellent.

I wanted to set an example.

I know the people here.

If they see that someone like me
goes for a free consultation...

...they won't be embarrassed to show up.

Because my every move is noticed
and commented on. It's natural.

Your action is very
praiseworthy, madame. Thank you.

Delighted to have met you, Doctor.

I'm at home every afternoon.

A number of people come for tea.

I have a old Louis XV tea set
I inherited from my grandmother.

There will always be a cup
waiting for you.

You know, I'm really very worried
about my tenants and my investments.

I toss and turn all night.
It's terribly fatiguing.

Perhaps you have some
secret to help me sleep?

Have you suffered
a long time from insomnia?

Very, very long.

Did you speak to Dr. Parpalaid about it?

Yes, several times.

What did he tell you?

To read three pages
of the Civil Code every night.

He was joking. He never took it seriously.

He might have been wrong.

Some cases of insomnia
can have very serious implications.

Really?

It can be due to a basic disturbance
of the intracerebral circulation...

...particularly a change in the blood
vessels known as the 'pipestem'.

You might have a pipestem
in your brain arteries.

Heavens! Pipestem!
Does tobacco use cause it?

I do indulge a little.

It's a point we'd have to examine.

It can also come from a deep and constant
neurolgic attack on the grey matter.

It sounds horrible. Please
explain it to me, Doctor.

Imagine a crab,
or a squid, or a gigantic spider...

...gnawing and sucking
and gently shredding your brain.

It's enough to make me
faint with horror!

That's certainly what I have,
I can feel it.

Please Doctor, kill me right now.
Give me an injection!

Or rather, don't abandon me. I feel
myself sliding into the depths of horror.

- Is it incurable? And deadly?
- No.

- There's hope of recovery?
- Yes, in time.

Don't deceive me, Doctor.
I want to know the truth.

It all depends on the regularity
and length of treatment.

But what is it that you cure?
The pipestem thing or the spider?

Because I feel sure that
in my case it's the spider.

You can cure one or the other.

I wouldn't suggest this to an ordinary
patient, who wouldn't have the time...

...or means for the treatment,
utilising the most modern methods.

With you, it's different.

Oh, I'd be the best patient, Doctor,
as obedient as a little dog.

I'd do whatever you say,
as long as it's not too painful.

Not painful at all, since
we'd be using radioactivity.

The only difficulty is to have
the patience to carefully follow...

...a 2 or 3 year course of treatment.

And also a doctor capable of the
incessant attention to the cure...

...and a painstaking calculation
of the doses of radiation...

...as well as nearly daily visits.

Oh, I'd have plenty of patience.

But you wouldn't want to spend
all that time on me.

I'd try to drop by your house
every morning, except Sunday.

And Mondays, because of consultations.

But wouldn't that gap be too long,
two days in a row?

I mean, I'd be without care
from Saturday to Tuesday.

I'll leave you detailed instructions.

And if I find a minute, I can come by
Sunday morning or Monday afternoon.

Oh, thank goodness!

And what should I do right away?

Go home. Stay in your room.

I'll come see you tomorrow morning and
give you a thorough examination.

Isn't there any medicine
I should take today?

Yes.

Go by Mr. Mousquet's and ask him to make
up this little prescription right away.

Who's next?

- Which one?
- Both of us!

- The two of you together?
- Yes!

I can't see you both at the same
time. Choose which it will be.

Anyway, there are other
people ahead of you.

They let us go ahead - ask them.

We always do everything together.
We're a matched set!

Come in.

Get undressed.

You, sit over there.

Do I have to strip naked?

Take your shirt off.

That'll do.

Lie down there.

Bend your knees.

Stretch out your arm.

Get dressed.

- Is your father still alive?
- No, he's dead.

- He died suddenly?
- Yes.

Was he very old?

- No, forty-nine.
- As old as that!

I'm going to show you
the state of your main organs.

These are the kidneys
of an ordinary man.

These are yours.

This is your liver.

This is your heart. But yours
is actually worse than this.

Maybe I should quit drinking?

Suit yourself.

Is there any medicine I could take?

It's hardly worth it. Now you.

If you like, Doctor, I could come back
for a paid consultation?

It's no use at all. Now you.

There's nothing wrong with me, Doctor.

- How do you know?
- I feel fine, Doctor.

Then why did you come?

To keep my pal company.

He isn't big enough to come by himself?
Come on, take your clothes off.

No, no, Doctor, not today.
I'll come back tomorrow, Doctor.

Next!

Not a moment's peace!

What with all these customers
and the telephone!

I'm going back to work in my lab.

What's the matter, my lad?

I may not last the hour.

But what will the band do without you?

They'll have to find somebody else.

You can't replace a first trombone
just like that.

They may have to postpone the festival.

The festival will not
have to be postponed.

Even though illness
is raging across the region.

But the microbes have been
defeated by medicine.

Mr. Albeau, our first trombone, is back
on his feet, thanks to Dr. Knock.

The very same day our second trombone
had to take a break...

...and so the rehearsal went ahead.

And when our first trumpet was sick in
bed, Dr. Knock was able...

...to restore to health our second trumpet,
who wasn't feeling very well.

And though we regret the unfortunate
absence of our principal flutist...

...we can rejoice in the return of
our second flutist, who's well again.

So the rehearsal can take place.

- I'm cold.
- Put on your overcoat.

I can't see my patients in an overcoat.

What patients?

Don't you remember these are
my consultation hours?

Did you hear that?

It was for the dentist upstairs.

All the customers are for upstairs!

That's it; I'm taking action.

I'm taking the next train
to St.-Maurice.

Hotel de la Clef - this way to the bus!

- Goodbye, M. Parpalaid.
- Goodbye.

We haven't seen you in a long time.

A long time? Three months!

- You're not taking the bus?
- The bus? Oh, excuse me.

- Can I help you, sir?
- I'd like to see the landlady.

- Why?
- I want a room.

I don't know, sir. Are you one of
the patients with a reservation?

I'm not a patient,
young lady, I'm a doctor.

Oh, you're here to help the Doctor?
He certainly needs it.

Don't you know me?

No, not at all.

Dr. Parpalaid...3 months ago, I was
the doctor for St.-Maurice.

Maybe you're not from around here?

Oh, yes I am. But I didn't know there
was a doctor here before Dr. Knock.

What does he want?
Not his old job back, surely!

A consultation, probably.

But we're full up. Number 9
is for the lady from Livron.

And #14 is for the lady
from Ste-Marcelline.

It's so upsetting.

You figure it out.
I have to look after my patients.

Explain that we have no rooms left.
I can't tell him myself.

Sorry. I've the urine specimens
from 5 and 8, the sputum from 2...

...temperature from 1, 3,
12, 17, 18 and the rest.

I don't want to get in trouble.

Hello, Mme Remy. Sorry to come in
like this, but I'm an old friend.

Hello, Mr. Parpalaid. You haven't
come for a room, I hope.

- Why, yes.
- Well, we don't have any.

- Is it a market day today?
- No, a regular day.

And all your rooms are full,
on a regular day?

- Who are all these people?
- Patients.

- Patients?
- Yes, people who are receiving treatment.

- Why are they staying here?
- It's the only hotel in St.-Maurice.

But they're not that badly off here,
while we wait for our new building.

They receive all their treatments here,
and all the rules of hygiene are observed.

Where do they come from?

For a while now,
they've come from all over.

At first, they were people
who were passing through.

I don't understand.

Travellers coming through
St.-Maurice on business.

They heard about Dr. Knock, and they
had to consult him no matter what.

Obviously, they had a feeling
something was wrong.

If they hadn't turned up in St.-Maurice,
some would have just dropped dead.

And why would they be dead?

Because they didn't suspect a thing, so
they'd have kept on drinking, eating...

...and doing all sorts
of other unsafe things.

And all these people stay here?

Yes, when they come back from Dr. Knock,
they go straight to bed...

...and start taking the treatment.

It's not quite the same now.
These people made a special trip here.

The trouble is,
we don't have enough space.

We're going to build an extension.

- Well, well!
- I'm up and about.

Looks like the cure is working!

Extraordinary. This hotel has
taken on a strange appearance.

It must seem extraordinary to you.

If you had to lead Dr. Knock's life,
I think you'd be begging for mercy.

Oh, and what sort of life
does he lead?

Like a galley slave.
He barely has time for a sandwich.

That's exactly how I live in Lyon.

Oh? You took it pretty easy
when you were here.

Remember playing pool in the bar?

In my time, people were healthier.

Don't say that, M. Parpalaid.

People didn't know how to take care of
themselves, which is quite different.

Things have changed, thank God.

Mme Remy? Where are the coughing cups?

For #14? Right here.

Well, if people are tired of being well,
and they want the luxury of being sick...

...they shouldn't be upset.

You can't say that Dr. Knock is
motivated by self-interest.

And don't insinuate that he's making up
illnesses that people don't have.

Take me - he's examined me almost
a dozen times since he started coming daily.

He's always told me there's nothing wrong
with me, I shouldn't worry...

...and I should just eat and drink well.

And no question of him accepting a penny.

Same thing for Mr. Bernard, the teacher,
who got it into his head...

...that he was a germ-carrier
and couldn't live with it.

To reassure him, Dr. Knock went so far
as to examine his stool 3 times.

Goodness, a face from the past. It was
such a long time ago that you left.

A long time? No, only 3 months.

That's true! Three months!
It seems an age.

Excuse me - we're terribly busy.

So, it appears you have no room for me.

No, as you can see.

Fine. I'll go back this evening.

Hello, Dr Parpalaid.

I was thinking about you.

Did you have a good trip?

It's about the quarterly
payment, right?

- As I was coming by...
- Wonderful!

All in banknotes, right?
Just as you asked.

I suppose you won't accuse me
now of having "rooked" you?

The spirit was willing,
my dear colleague.

You won't deny that I gave you the
pratice, and it was worth something.

You could have stayed. We wouldn't
have gotten in each other's way.

In confidence, I can show you
a few of my graphs.

You'll remember our
conversation of 3 months ago.

Consultations first of all.

This curve shows weekly figures.

We'll start with your figure, which I
don't know, but which I've set at 5.

Five consultations per week?
Twice as many, easily.

Very well. Here are my numbers.

Naturally, I don't count the
Monday free consultations.

Mid-October: 30.
End of October: 90.

End of November: 128.

End of December: I haven't done the
tally yet, but we're over 150.

However, to save time, I've sacrificed
consultation curve for treatment curve.

Consultations in themselves
only partly interest me.

It's a rather unsophisticated art,
like fishing with a net.

But treatment -
that's genuine angling.

Excuse me, but your figures
are rigorously precise?

Rigorously.

In one week, there are 150 people in
St.-Maurice who'd leave their homes...

...to line up outside the doctor's
and pay for it?

They weren't brought there by force
or some sort of pressure?

We didn't need police or troops.

It's inexplicable.

Let's go on to the treatment graph.

Beginning of October,
here's the situation you left me:

Patients undergoing regular
treatment at home: 0, right?

End of October: 32.

End of November 121.

End of December...we should hit
between 245 and 250.

I suspect you're putting one over on me.

I don't find this excessive.

Keep in mind that the township
contains 2,853 households.

1,502 of them have incomes
over 12,000 francs.

But how do you know
your patients' incomes?

Not through their tax returns,
believe me. And so much the better.

I calculate 1,502 incomes
over 12,000 francs.

The tax collector counts 17.

The highest income
on his list is 20,000.

The highest on mine is 120,000.

We'll never agree. You must
remember that he works for the State.

Where do you get your information?

From lots of sources.
It's quite a job.

I spent almost all of October at it.

And I'm revising it constantly.

Look here; pretty, isn't it?

I'd say it's a map of the township.

But what do these red dots mean?

It's a map of medical penetration.

Every red dot indicates
a regular patient.

A month ago you'd have seen a huge
grey patch here: the Chabri�res patch.

The name of the village at its center.

My efforts for the last few weeks
have been principally directed here.

Today, that patch has not disappeared,
but it's fractured - hardly noticeable.

- You're incredible!
- Thank you.

Would you permit me
to ask a question up front?

Go ahead.

If I used your method...

If I understood it as well as you,
if I only had to put it into practice...

Wouldn't I feel
some scruples? Answer me.

It's for you to say, I think.

I'm not trying to pin you down.
It's just a very delicate point.

I'd like to understand you better.

You'll say I'm being a nitpicker,
that I'm splitting hairs.

But with your method isn't the patient's
interest subordinate to the doctor's?

Dr. Parpalaid, you forget that there is
an interest higher than those two.

Which is?

That of medicine.
It's the only one that concerns me.

Yes, yes.

You give me a township of several thousand
individuals - blank, indeterminate.

My role is to direct them, and lead
them to the medical existence.

I put them to bed, and I see
what will result.

Tuberculosis, nervous breakdown,
arterio-sclerosis, scrofula!

Whatever you like, but something!

Nothing aggravates me more than this
creature that's neither fish nor fowl...

...that you call a healthy man.

But you can't put everyone
in the township to bed!

We can discuss that.

I've known 5 members of the same
family, sick all at once...

...all bedridden at the same time,
and they managed fine.

You remind me of those famous economists
who said a modern war...

...couldn't last more than 6 weeks.

The truth is, we lack boldness.

No one, not even I would dare to put
a whole populace to bed...

...just to see what would happen.

Alright, we do need some healthy people,
if only to take care of the sick...

...or to form a sort of reserve
to back up the active ill.

What I don't like is when health puts on airs.

We close our eyes to a number of cases,
leaving them their mask of well-being.

But if they go on to swagger before us
and put on airs, that annoys me.

That's what happened to M. Raffalens.

That Goliath? The one who boasted he
could carry his mother-in-law in one arm?

Yes. He held out against me for 3 months,
but he succumbed in the end.

What happened?

He's in bed. His boasts were starting to
weaken the people's medical esprit.

You only think of medicine...

Look, Dr. Parpalaid.

You know the view from this window.

The first time I stood here, the day
after my arrival, I felt very small.

I felt that my presence wasn't noticed.

This vast territory cared nothing
about me and my projects.

But now, I'm as comfortable here
as an organist before his keyboard.

In 250 of those houses - we can't see
them all because of distance and trees...

...there are 250 rooms
where someone is confessing medicine.

250 beds where a prostrate body bears
witness that life has a meaning...

...and thanks to me,
the meaning is medical.

Night is even more beautiful,
because there are the lights.

And almost all the lights are mine.

The non-sick sleep in darkness.
They are invisible.

But the sick have their
nightlights or lamps.

All that remains beyond the pale
of medicine is removed by the night...

...along with annoyance and challenge.

The township gives way to a sort of
firmament, which I continually create.

And I haven't even mentioned the bells.

Just think, for all these people
they are the voice of my orders....

...reminding them of my prescriptions.

In a few minutes, 6:00 will sound.

For all my patients 6:00 is the
2nd taking of rectal temperature.

In a few minutes 250 thermometers
will simultaneously be inserted...

My dear fellow, listen to me.

Doctor, it's time for your rounds.

Come along with me.

My dear fellow, I have a proposal.

The Doctor!

Is everything ready for my rounds?

We've been waiting for you, Doctor.

Do you know what
Dr. Parpalaid has suggested?

That we exchange practices.

I'll replace him in Lyon.
He'll come back here.

- You're joking.
- Not at all. It's a very serious offer.

Naturally, you refused!

Why should he refuse?

I have a first-class clientele at Lyon.

I took over from Dr. Merlu, who
had an excellent reputation.

Yes, but that was 3 months ago.
In 3 months, people have moved on.

And more downhill than up.

Besides, Doctor, the population
of St.-Maurice will never agree.

What business is it of theirs?

- We didn't ask their opinion.
- They'll give it.

The Germ-Carrier.

One can go through life with a pink
tongue, good color and appetite...

Ladies and gentlemen, I have some
alarming news to share...

- Well, that's what I heard!
- And I'm telling you, it's impossible.

- It's not true, is it?
- It is!

Mme Remy, here's a fine piece of news.

Dr. Knock is leaving us, and
Mr. Parpalaid is coming back.

No, no! It can't be!

You'll have to sneak off
by night in a plane.

I'll warn the people
and they won't let you go.

We'll slash the tires of your car first.

We'd be happy to see you
from time to time...

...but you must understand
the way things are.

As for you, Mr. Parpalaid,
if that's what you came for...

...I'm sorry to say I don't
have a single room left.

And even though it is January 4,
you'll have to sleep outside.

Oh, let's not go that far!
-Yes! We'll go that far!

Fine!

The attitude of these people to a man
who devoted 25 years of his life to them.

It's a scandal!

Since there's no room at St.-Maurice
for anything but quackery...

...I prefer to make
an honest living in Lyon.

Honest, and prosperous.

Dr. Knock, I'm leaving this evening.

You wouldn't be so ungenerous,
my dear fellow.

Mme Remy was so taken by surprise
by this inaccurate report...

...and alarmed at dropping her dishes...

...that she spoke in haste.
Her words betrayed her thoughts.

You see now that her dishes are safe,
Mme Remy is her usual smiling self again.

With the gratitude that all St.-Maurice
feels for your years of quiet service.

Of course, Mr. Parpalaid
has always been a fine man.

And he did as well as anyone.

Since we had to have some sort of doctor.

It was only tiresome
when there was an epidemic.

A real doctor wouldn't have let so many
people die during the Spanish Influenza.

A real doctor! Tell me
what you really think!

So you think a 'real doctor'
can fight a worldwide epidemic?

It's like the Home Guard trying
to fight an earthquake.

Wait until the next one; you'll see if
Dr. Knock manages any better than I did.

Listen M. Parpalaid. I may not know
anything about your car.

But I'm beginning to know a thing
or two about sick people.

I can tell you that in a population
where the invalids are already in bed...

...we're ready for your
worldwide epidemic.

What's terrible, as Mr. Bernard
said the other day, is...

Is a thunderbolt coming out of the blue.

Do you have a room for the doctor?

No, I don't. You know that we hardly
have enough room for the patients.

But if I said that the doctor isn't
fit to leave this afternoon...

...and that a minimum one-day rest
for him is necessary?

That would be different.

But M. Parpalaid didn't come here
to consult you, did he?

If he did, professional ethics would make
it impossible for me to say so publicly.

What are you talking about? I'm
leaving this evening, that's that.

I'm quite serious. A 24-hour rest
is indispensible for you.

I advise you not to leave this evening,
and if necessary I oppose it.

Of course, Doctor. I didn't know.

Mr. Parpalaid will have
a bed, don't worry.

Ravachol's leaving tomorrow!

- What did he want?
- To consult the Doctor!

This is a joke, right?

Thank you, at any rate.

I didn't want to start back tonight
after an 8-hour trip here.

I'm not young anymore, and I'm
starting to notice it.

It's wonderful, how you
keep your poker face.

Earlier, you had such an expression
when you were talking.

Even though I knew
it was a joke and I was in on it.

Yes, an expression and
a look in your eye...

As if you could see through me right
down to the bottom of my entrails.

You're really good.

What do you expect! It happens
without my intending to.

As soon as I meet someone,
I can't help forming a diagnosis...

...even if it's quite useless
and out of place.

It's gotten to the point where I avoid
looking at myself in the mirror.

But...a diagnosis...what do you mean?

An imaginary diagnosis, or...?

What do you mean, imaginary?

When I see a face, without even thinking
my eye reads a collection of tiny signs.

Skin, eyes, veins, breathing, hair, etc...

...and my diagnostic facility
works automatically.

I have to watch myself,
because it's getting ridiculous.

But then... I mean...

It may be a bit silly,
but I have my reasons...

When you said that I needed a day's
rest, were you acting, or...?

Once more, if I insist, it's that
I've been having certain concerns.

I've observed this or that sign
for some time now.

And even from a purely
theoretical viewpoint...

I'd be very curious to know
if my own observations...

...coincide with your diagnosis.

My dear colleague, get into bed at once.

As for your health, and
the decisions that go with it...

...we'll have more time to talk about
it tomorrow morning.

- Do I take his temperature?
- Of course.