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March, 1960
For the last time, now.
Where are the guns?
Where is Miguel?
Are you deaf or just stupid?
Guess what I'm gonna do to you?
I'll rip off your nails,
you son of a bitch.
And your tongue,
and that can hurt.
Got it?
Without his tongue,
how is he going to talk,
you moron?
Where is Miguel?
Where are the guns?
Suck my dick, motherfucker.
Die!
It's better to kill people after they have talked,
not before!
The CIA is here to help us,
not to make fun of us.
How are we going to find Miguel?
We've Paquita, his wife.
She's the leader.
Not him!
Take him!
No!
Leave him here.
I hope she knows where Miguel is.
Paquita, right?
Would you like a quick death?
Or a slow death?
A FRENCH TOWN
A LITTLE TOUCH OF RED
Come on, let's go.
So...
Your son can read your mind.
Yes.
How do you know that, Mrs. Larcher?
Perhaps you can read his?
No.
I just know it. I can feel it.
But I guess you don't believe me.
I'm listening.
- Do you sleep well at night? - No.
Because the neighbors are loud.
- It's important to sleep. - Yes.
I would love to.
We can fix that.
You smoke a lot, it seems to me.
It helps me.
With what?
I don't know.
How is digestion?
She eats very little.
What about the bowels ?
I couldn't say.
I shit very well, doctor.
Hortense, please!
Can we go home now?
Can we?
Yes.
You're done, Mrs. Larcher. Would you please wait for us
in the room outside?
- You're going to talk without me? - We're going to talk as men.
As doctors.
I want to go home, Daniel.
Mrs. Larcher,
excuse my bluntness, but...
You're not very easy to live with right now.
At this point, you are a problem
for your husband,
for others, in general.
For society.
Don't you want to stop being a problem?
Yes.
Then go...
and wait for us outside.
We won't be long.
My dear colleague,
you were right to bring your wife.
This is serious.
She locked our five-year-old son in a closet.
She makes up imaginary visitors.
Attempted murders.
She believes in it.
That's the terrible part.
At first glance, I'd say
paranoid dementia,
with a systematic delirium of persecution.
If you do nothing,
her condition will only get worse.
- You wanted to see me? - Yes.
I've a problem with your last painting.
Really?
You don't like it?
Mrs. Larcher, I admire your work.
I fought for this exhibition that no one here wanted.
But this painting...
I can't exhibit it.
- Are you serious? - We're in Villeneuve,
which endured the Occupation. - I was there, miss!
I suffered as a result.
Mrs. Larcher... In 1975,
We cannot exhibit the portrait of an SS leader
who killed, deported and tortured people here.
But you can exhibit the Kraut's whore!
I beg your pardon?
No.
There'll be no exhibition without this painting.
The self-portraits mean nothing without him. He inspired them.
- But it's your last work... - Yes, it's the most recent one!
But it's been in my head since the beginning.
Is that too hard to understand?
You're with them.
Yes, you are.
"Them"?
Never mind.
Mrs. Larcher,
there are going to be protests,
maybe a boycott. The city...
I was taken out of the asylum for this.
It wasn't even my idea.
So I don't give a hoot about boycotts and protests.
An exhibition is an engaging event, isn't it?
Yes.
You either show my paintings, all my paintings,
or I pack everything up and go home.
Take care of it.
Is that all we have?
We need double that.
Go to the printer's, right now.
We must step up the pace. The second round's in three days.
There are streets without tracts, and crossroads without Huma.
- The bourgeois will win. - We're doing our best.
We even called for backup.
Who did Rue Gambetta?
I did it.
- With Léonore. - So you did the whole street.
I see red everywhere.
Yes, comrade.
The problem is, we checked.
The party always checks. Fortunately.
From number 1 to number 80, no tracts in the mailboxes.
Well, comrade Rolland?
It's my fault, comrade.
I lost the flyers on the bus
and I didn't dare to admit my mistake.
And I lied to comrade Léonore.
I told her I'd been on that street before our meeting.
See what I mean when I say the team is not up to scratch?
I wasn't thinking straight. I apologize to you and the party.
Losing tracts is wrong, but it can happen.
Lying to the party,
pinning flags on Rue Gambetta,
that's different.
It is petty-bourgeois individualism,
coupled with a tendency towards factionalism.
Get it?
Yes.
Do you have any idea how serious this is?
I didn't think, comrade.
The Disciplinary Committee will examine your case.
- Gustave, will you be a rapporteur? - Yes.
It's enough. I want the riot police.
Can't you wait till after the election?
They are blocking the stock!
And the strike is spreading to drivers and loggers.
Tonight, a delegate will go to the cement plant.
You want a general strike?
The police will lose us votes.
The strike is making Raymond look like an incompetent.
That's not good for a mayor.
- You seem pretty amused. - Not at all.
It was disappointing to be disqualified,
but I definitely want my side to win.
No doubt about it.
However, I do wonder why Raymond isn't here.
He had urgent matters to solve.
More urgent than a serious crisis?
What do you want?
- To know if he really wants to win. - You...
Enough already!
What is this, a school yard?
In a game, only close-knit teams win.
And trust me, the Bolsheviks are. It is all the more absurd
as you both agree on sending the police... as opposed to me.
I'll ask De Kervern what he thinks about it.
He's in charge of the police, after all.
Jules!
Do you think they're gonna try to take the stock by force?
Ask your sweetheart.
We don't talk work at home.
Especially not now.
He's a cop. Try to get us a tip.
Don't count on me.
Chassagne is not gonna stand by and watch.
Are you scared?
Not for myself, but...
For everyone that we're dragging along.
The cause is just.
That's what counts.
You think?
What?
We can't go back to an ordinary life,
where we get screwed by politicians and bourgeois.
You have to fight in life.
Or die.
You nailing or not?
Unbelievable!
No one moves a finger around here.
- It's not easy. - Good thing I'm here. I'll do it.
Thanks.
There. It's done.
I hear the mill is on strike.
Yes.
Poor Raymond Schwartz, so close to the second round.
I suppose you're happy about that.
Nothing gets past you, eh.
I made you some soup. My mother used to say it was good
for stomachache. - Against stomachache. I hope so.
Of course.
You're sweet.
I should be sick more often.
Don't be silly.
So, you're not mad at me?
About what?
Last night.
- I don't want to talk about it. - I do.
I'm sick, you're nice. Or so it seems.
I'm not nice. I'm just your wife.
Not really.
You know, Lucienne,
it was Kurt who asked me to do it.
I don't believe you.
He wrote it to me.
Eat your soup, Jules.
I'd prefer some wine.
Wine?
The bottled I opened last night. Must be at the foot of my bed.
Wine's not good for stomachache.
Of course it is.
It's the "W treatment".
I beg you...
My dear and lovely wife.
Bring me some wine.
Gustave.
What're you doing?
I'm looking for elements
for Rolland's disciplinary evaluation.
Speaking of which, something's wrong.
Go ahead.
Rolland didn't lose the tracts.
I did.
- Why didn't you tell me? - I was afraid of your reaction.
And Rolland told me to keep quiet, that we'd get through.
- He gave you the idea... - That doesn't change anything.
Yes, it does.
We can't punish a comrade when I'm the one to blame.
Who pinned the flags?
He did. But he did it for me.
- Is he in love with you? - No, it's just...
He's courteous, that's all.
Courteous?
He makes you commit an offense
and you tell me he's courteous? - No, but...
He's the one at fault, Léonore.
Not you.
But I'm the one who lost them.
But he's the one who made you behave like a petty-bourgeois.
Edmond's right.
Gustave,
At the disciplinary committee, I'll say I lost the tracts.
You can't do that.
Everybody knows we're together.
You could be expelled.
That'd ruin my position in the party.
You don't want to ruin my position in the party.
No.
- Are you in love with Rolland? - No.
I'm in love with you.
Then keep quiet.
But it's not fair.
You need to step back, Léonore.
I've decided
to step back, Gustave.
March, 1975
What does that mean?
I'm going to Paris for two weeks.
I don't think I'll be returning home.
You can't be serious.
I met someone at family planning.
A doctor.
We can talk it over.
No.
Talking with you is impossible.
We can work it out.
I don't think so.
I'm out of love, Gustave.
Just like that...
All at once?
It's never all at once.
It's a slow thing.
Love comes quickly, but leaves slowly.
I don't think I ever forgave you for what happened with Rolland.
Rolland?
Our friend from the party.
The tracts that I'd lost.
But that was 30 years ago.
We were kids.
Maybe.
But that was the first time I ever resented you.
You made me lie to everybody.
I did what I thought was right.
You didn't listen to your heart.
Or mine.
It was the first of many.
For years, I waited for you to open your heart, Gustave.
I even wondered if you had one.
And then, I stopped wondering.
Give me a chance, Léonore.
Goodbye, comrade.
Didn't I give you the day off?
Anselme came to see me at the farm.
He informed me of the strikers' demands.
There's a summary.
It's not official.
Why're you giving me this?
- Because I'm leaving. - Leaving where?
I'm leaving the mill.
And the money you owe me?
Thank you
for the help, and for hiring me.
I thank you all the more because I didn't do it back in '43.
You're leaving anyway.
- You won't count it? - No.
That's not like you.
I don't want to be like me anymore.
See, it's the opposite for me.
I need to feel more like myself.
Where are you going?
Home.
Where're you gonna work?
Geneviève and I will resume work at the farm.
We're gonna breed dairy cows.
We'll have children and I'll raise them with her.
It'll be sort of like my next maquis.
You'll get bored.
You're the one who's getting bored.
Goodbye, Raymond.
Hello, Antoine.
Farewell.
- What do you want? - Did you hear how...
He's leaving the mill.
Oh.
Good riddance.
You're actually more stupid than I am.
You've learned from the best.
Where were you this morning?
- Do you want to be mayor? - No.
But I don't have a choice. I need to pay my debts.
How could you stand Lanzac up?
- He made you. - I thought you had made me...
You and Daddy.
Where were you?
Here.
I was thinking of a way to avoid bankruptcy.
The only way is to be elected.
We'll have the region in hand.
Right now, we have a strike on our hands.
Well, not for long - trust me.
The sawmill can be accessed by the forest or by the road.
But the vans can't take the path to the forest,
which means the strikers will see us from afar.
Can't the CRS team arrive on foot?
That'd be long and dangerous.
I'm guessing there will be arrests
after the operation... So we're going to need the vans.
The CRS riot police are the new, purged GMR, right?
Only in theory.
Some are FFI, but the rest?
If you have a green light, how long would it take to prepare it?
I have to check with the CRS command,
but I'd say...
6 to 8 hours.
What a pain!
I'm sorry...
Is this really necessary?
The stock is blocked.
Better rush in than do nothing.
Tell the Besançon CRS to get as close as possible to the mill
without being seen. Then wait for the okay.
Gentlemen...
Excuse me, sir...
Who exactly is this guy?
He is no one.
He has the General's trust.
And that of the district prefect, so we obey him.
Hello. 22 in Besançon, please. Prefect De Kervern.
It's urgent.
Yes, I'll hold.
By the way,
the Americans bought your report on the murder of their officer.
You can file it.
Lucky man you are.
Major? De Kervern here.
We're going to need both of your companies.
As soon as possible. Thank you.
You should always wait in the dormitory.
No talking
or shouting, or you'll be tied down.
Can I have a private room?
No. We must always see the patients, even in the bathroom.
Oh, God. Why?
Because of suicides, madam.
The showers are shared, the doors are made of glass.
I refuse to take a shower
or use the toilet in front of everybody...
You do not accept or refuse.
You do what we say.
If you don't, you will be tied down, restrained or sedated.
- Can I smoke? - It is forbidden.
- But... - It's strictly forbidden, madam.
You're here because you're ill, Mrs. Larcher.
I don't know what condition you have,
but it cannot affect
the normal functioning of the place. OK?
You will only be here a few days.
Yes, yes.
Do as you're told and everything will be fine.
Follow me.
Hurry up.
Take off your clothes.
- There's no screen? - No.
Come on, it's almost time for your bath.
Is everything OK?
Yes.
Did you pick a Christmas song for the children?
No.
I forgot.
You forgot?
Yes.
I'm a bad woman...
Please, don't start again. We had a deal.
But I'm unable to keep it.
I'm just incapable.
Lucienne.
Don't touch me.
Lucienne.
Lucienne!
I feel like a leper.
Henri was removed from service
without a pension,
three days after his execution.
Removing a dead person... Unbelievable.
I have no resources.
I sold everything I had.
I was staying at my cousin's,
but now her son's back and there're only two rooms.
I'm homeless, Daniel.
I understand.
Would you like some more tea, Mrs. Servier?
Henri told me...
I am so sorry to ask you this.
Henri said, "If you are ever in real trouble..."
I remember clearly.
"If you're in trouble, go and see Larcher. He'll help you".
Arlette, things aren't easy for me right now.
With my national indignity, people are canceling.
I have debts of my own.
I'm gonna have to let the housekeeper go.
So...
You can't help me.
I have nowhere to sleep tonight.
My things are in storage.
How disgraceful.
Listen...
Hortense is away for a few days. Take her room.
Do some office work for me,
and I'll offer you lunch and soup in the evening. Is that OK?
Thank you.
Do you have any food?
- What? - Do you have food?
We can share. I'll tell you secrets.
No. I don't have any food.
You don't want to share?
I'll only be here a few days.
I've been here for two years.
That's why your bath was so quick.
"So quick"?
She let me marinate for an hour.
Mine lasted 15 hours the first time,
with only two 10-minute breaks.
Now it's four hours, three times a week.
It's supposed to relax me.
They're crazy.
This towel's not drying me at all.
You're lucky to have one.
I dry myself with the sheets. I always catch a cold at night.
When you have a high fever,
you go to the infirmary, and you get to eat.
There's nothing to eat here.
Nothing.
Patients starve to death every day.
What are you saying?
When they take you out for the shocks...
The "shocks"? What shocks?
You'll go through the garden. The shock room's in front.
There's a red brick building
with sealed windows. We call it "the purgatory".
The patients who go there are never seen again.
Are you trying to scare me?
Is this some kind of test? They want to see if I'm crazy.
If I believe everything I'm told.
They're spying on us. That's it.
Of course... They're spying on us.
You're weird.
Back up, back up.
More.
More. Now straight on.
A bit more...
OK, stop.
Are they communists, sir?
I've no idea. But I do know strikers are no angels.
Are they armed?
Get ready as if they were and we had to fire back.
- Understood? - Yes, sir.
Let's get moving!
We're short of blankets.
We won't be all sleeping at the same time.
- Citizen? - Yes.
Wake me up at 3 for the shift.
Three o'clock.
- Hey, Brigitte! Got any red? - Yeah.
- Here. - Thanks.
You really think they're gonna send in the CRS?
I don't know.
Suzanne will tell us anyway. She's well informed.
Red alert!
Are you coming?
I'm staying, Hubert.
You what?
I'm staying with the strikers.
Can I talk to you for a second?
Be right back.
What an asshole.
- What is this nonsense? - We're on strike. I'll sleep here.
Out of the question.
Is this the husband or the boss speaking?
What about Arsène?
- Will he feed himself? - My mother's staying over.
And my dinner?
Just reheat the soup. If you can't do it, my mother will.
I'd cook at the stalag.
I'm gonna go now.
I say "stalag" and you change the subject.
Hubert, you're always talking about it.
You should've been there.
Instead of banging the first guy who came along.
- Let me go. - I'm not done yet.
- Listen to me. - No.
- Listen to me! - It hurts.
I don't care.
Hubert!
Stay out of this, Mr. Schwartz.
- She's my wife. - And this is my place.
You must obey me, Amélie. It's the law.
I'm sick of your law.
This isn't going to end well.
- Calm down. - I'm not leaving without her.
I'm staying here.
What you're doing is not right, Mr. Schwartz.
Not right at all.
Are you OK?
- I must go home. - Are you sure?
He might hurt my son or something...
I can drive you. We may get there before him.
Mrs. Bériot?
Thank you for coming so quickly.
I'm worried. It's been two days, right?
Yes. He's not doing well at all.
- Is he in your bedroom? - No. He's in my old room.
It's more comfortable.
Jules.
Doctor Larcher's here.
So, Mr. Bériot.
It's not great.
I've never been, but this is...
the icing.
The cramps...
I took some bicarb, but it's getting worse.
- You can leave us, Lucienne. - I will...
make him a broth. - No.
He shouldn't ingest anything.
Except for water.
We'll talk as soon as I finish here.
I thought you were staying at the mill.
I decided not to.
Want some soup?
Yeah.
No, I'll do it.
I've good news for Gustave and Léonore.
The Americans closed the murder case.
Gustave should be fine.
That's great.
Say...
The CRS at the mill,
is it true or not?
Didn't we say we wouldn't discuss work?
Yes.
- And yet, we do. - Yeah.
Will it stay between us?
I don't know.
Everybody knows we're together, anyway.
Well?
The CRS are five kilometers from the sawmill.
You can't tell anyone, or I'll be dismissed.
- Their intervention depends on who? - Raymond, Chassagne.
But I think...
there might be a way to cool things down.
Release the crosstie stock.
That'll ease them... until the election.
- We'll lose our best weapon. - If you don't, it'll be a mess.
Most CRSs are ex-GMRs.
A lot of them have scores to settle.
How can I know the CRS are there, other than by you?
There's a lumberjack who lives nearby.
He might have seen them.
Pay him a visit.
Randomly.
Your soup is good.
Cut the engine. The baby's sleeping.
Yes.
The bike's not here.
He's probably on a bar crawl on Rue Neuve.
I didn't know bosses could drive strikers home.
A lot has changed since the Occupation.
I don't think anything has changed.
That's also true.
Actually, Hubert changed.
He used to be a good guy.
I don't know what to do.
I don't want to bother you with my problems.
You don't bother me at all.
- Do you mind if I stay a bit longer? - Absolutely not.
This place is quite far away, but it's all we could find.
My father's cousin rents it to us.
A front line Résistante,
married to a collaborator.
Funny, isn't it?
I was a collaborator and a Résistant...
You're amazing.
Mommy!
That must be for you.
The inspector will hear you now.
You didn't expect this, did you, Schwartz?
No.
Yeah, well.
I wasn't on a trip.
I sure played Amélie, though.
I took the inspector's exam in '48. As a former prisoner,
I was granted the fast track.
I studied everywhere. Then, I returned to the country.
How are you?
Is the cell comfortable?
Feeling easy, pal?
I don't remember us being on familiar terms.
Well, it's a cop thing.
Formality's for superiors.
I couldn't believe it when I came across the Caberni file.
It was heaven-sent.
I even saw the name of the murderer.
I mean... I had to dig.
And since you were involved, well... I dug.
What did you get out of it?
Premeditated vicious murder.
Concealment of the body by a collaborator,
disguised as a Résistant... You might get, what...
Eight years, maybe ten.
Especially since the investigation won't be exactly exculpatory.
You see?
Where are you?
Rats, rats...
Good morning, ladies.
There're rats on the bed.
There're rats.
Simono.
You want the straitjacket, Simono?
We're hungry, Ms. Garnier.
There'll be bread in the soup today. No complaints.
Larcher.
Are you coming? It's time.
Be brave.
I'll be thinking about you.
Hurry up. The team's waiting for you.
Keep walking.
Let's go.
Come on, Mrs. Larcher.
Save me.
Save me.
Do you smoke, Paquita?
I smoke.
The doctor even said I smoke too much.
Where are the guns?
Where is Miguel?
Stop!
What is it?
You won't make her talk like that.
Untie her!
A cigarette
can make anyone talk!
That's what you said.
Not her!
Untie her.
It's an order, you idiot!
I'm sick of this CIA bullshit.
I love you,
Paquita.
What are you going to do to me?
- What are you... - Don't worry, we're used to it.
Check the stability of the direct current.
- Please, explain. - No.
This is for your own good.
No, no...
Hold her down while we adjust it.
- Does my husband know? - Any fillings?
- Call my husband. - Open her mouth.
You leave us no option but to use force.
There are seven people here just to treat you, do you understand?
OK, let's go. Untie her.
Why? She's clearly agitated.
The risk of bone fracture increases.
Look, we have done this many times.
No need to ask questions. Come on.
- Bit, please. - No, no.
Hold.
Is everybody ready?
100 volts.
Things are cooling off.
The strikers released the stock of crossties.
I gave my word that the CRS would not intervene.
You "gave your word"?
Yes. Lanzac said the stock was the deadlock point.
Tell me, would you have given your word
if your partner wasn't one of the strikers?
Well, if wishes were horses...
I think we should send the CRS. Right now.
Anselme won't give in.
- We'll have a communist as mayor. - That's the voters' problem.
I gave my word.
You're lucky this is a bad time for me to disown you.
Next time, show me your "word" before giving it...
Understood?
The CRS will be landing early Monday.
Is the cell downstairs clear?
No, it's full. Put him here.
Bring the client.
We got a big catch.
Well I never!
Good ole Jérôme.
You must have a couple of things to tell us.
Subtitles: ECLAIR
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