All language subtitles for Lapoison51.srt

And it's Michel Simon

in a film by Sacha Guitry

Dialogue and direction
are by the author, of course

The music and new songs
are by Louiguy

The film is called "Poison"

Jean Debucourt of the Com�die-Fran�aise
is one of the main actors

and furthermore...

So, since you have been so good
as to ask me for a dedication,

Here it is.

Michel Simon, this film
that I have just made

gave me one of the greatest
joys I've had in the theater,

for I think I'll be allowed
to call it theater.

I had never before
had you as an actor.

Well, you are exceptional.

I would even say, unique.

Between the moment when
you cease being yourself

and when you play your role,

it's impossible to see the seams.

Nor when, on ceasing to act,
you become yourself again.

So that there is no reason
to stop shooting.

I place you among the greatest.

Fr�d�rick Lema�tre,
Sarah Bernhardt, my father,

Zacconi, Chaliapin.

Like them, you are alone.
A voluntary solitary.

Like them, you possess
that precious virtue

that cannot be acquired
and cannot be transmitted:

the sense of theater.

The ability to make others share

feelings that you do not feel.

You aren't one of those actors
who gather troupes around them.

No, no,

You aren't one of those actors
who give lessons.

What is admirable in you

cannot be learned.

And above all it can't be taught.

And life is on holiday.

You too, Louiguy,
you have a miraculous gift.

The pieces you compose

go in one ear
and don't go out the other.

Lucienne Delyle, it's a great joy

to have you for an actress.

Thank you.
-- Oh, yes. Thank you.

Now the rosebushes
are budding

They'll show off
all their finery

Jean Debucourt
and Jacques Varennes...

You act so well,
Jacques Varennes,

one would think you were in
the Com�die-Fran�aise.

And you act so well, Debucourt,
one would think you weren't.

Jeanne Fusier-Gir...
-- Sacha?

Despite my efforts,

I can't imagine a play or a film

of which I would be the author
and in which you would not perform.

That's how it is.

May I present your son,
Fran�ois Gir, my assistant.

Pleased to meet you, sir.
-- Ad vitam aeternam.

As for you, Mrs. Reuver,

you created
Crainquebille with my father.

Yes, sir.
-- It's for that reason

that I have given you
the main female role.

And it's also for that reason
that you have played it so well.

Here is my Pauline,
in the prison set.

Pauline Carton.

We've known each other now
for twenty years,

and I still wonder

which I admire more:
your talent or your intelligence.

As for the sets, they were made
to my specifications

and I assure you they are correct.

Goodbye, Pauline.
-- Goodbye, sir.

Duvaleix...

Sir.

Henri Laverne, Bever,

Jacques de F�raudy,
L�on Walther.

I'll tell you something
very sincerely,

if you had less talent,

I would still remain your friend.

Jacques Derives,
Max-Harry, Louis de Fun�s.

Bravo a hundred times.

A hundred times, thanks.

Luce Fabiole,

Yvonne H�bert, Miss Ardant,
Miss Quentin,

Poirier, Mercier,
Dalibert, Dejean,

Nastorg, Amato,
Eymond and Belly,

will you all work on my next film?
-- Yes!!!

Mrs. Maria Fromet,

attentive and at her place
and who acts so well, thanks.

Thank you, sir.

Hello? Suzanne Dant�s,

Jacques Morel
and you, Mr. Toscane,

since you are only heard
in the film,

you won't be seen
in the credits.

But you'll have the place
that is rightfully yours.

Thank you.

An art director like you,
Robert Dumesnil,

deserves to be decorated.

The editing of a film
is a delicate thing.

Raymond Lamy,
you are a master in this.

You, Jean Bachelet,
my director of photography,

you will be known later on
as the inventor

of photography in depth.

Mrs. Odette Lemarchand,
let me call you script-lady.

Fernand Janisse,
chief sound technician,

since you record everything,
record my gratitude.

Ir�n�e Leriche, production coordinator.

Robert Christid�s, set decorator.

Ren� Ribaud and Gustave Raulet,
cameramen.

And finally, Robert Sussfeld,
production manager.

Believe me, I'm yours
with both my hands.

All of you, without whom
I could have done nothing,

anonymous participants

always in good humor
and always useful,

let's drink together to the health
of those who are dear to you.

Monday, October 8
Saint Brigitte

Only because it's you, Mrs. Michaud,
I let you read my prescription book.

Listen, honestly,
it does no one any harm.

and, just between us,
it interests me.

I see that, by heaven,
and I wonder why.

It's an idea that came to me,
like that.

God knows how well I know
my fellow citizens

and my mind has been made up
about them for a long time,

But it amuses me
all the same

to have the proof
of what I was thinking.

And there
you have the proof?

And how!

Gossip, rumors, chitchat,
you have to take it

for what it's worth, right?
-- I agree.

While this here is sincerity,
truth, the indisputable.

When you see the remedies,
you can guess the disease.

The language of remedies
is eloquent.

For example, here:

Mrs. Cl�ment, the one on
place St-Jacques,

aspirin... aspirin...
aspirin... aspirin.

She has migraines!

And her scowling face
is instantly understandable.

The postman, eh?

Varicose ulcer.
And after that you're surprised

that the morning mail comes at night?

I won't say anything against
anthropometry, obviously it's useful,

but this! it's much more
instructive and conclusive

than a turned-up chin
or a receding forehead.

Mercury cyanide...
That says it all.

It's not his fault, that man.

No. But a father of four children,
that is his fault.

Paul Braconnier:
Gardenal...

He can't sleep anymore.

With the wife he's got,
no surprise.

Boldo infusion
for Father M�tivet.

Yes, he has a bad liver.

A liver ailment, for a priest,
that doesn't look right.

Calomel... calomel...

calomel.
-- It's needed.

Give me your pencil,

I need to do a little addition.

Hello, father.

Well!

Hello, my good friend.

How is it going?

Not so great.

I can't stand my wife anymore.

Ah...
What do you have against her?

The fact that she's there.
-- You shouldn't have put her there.

That's a bad answer, father.

Remember the day
we were married

and don't tell me
it's the same woman.

She's thirty years older.
-- It's not a question of age.

You can be 52 years old
and not look like a barrel.

Haven't you yourself changed?
Be fair.

Sure, I've put on thirty years,

But I don't drink
three liters of wine a day

I don't yell from morning to night,
I don't smash dishes.

And to come right out with it,
father,

maybe I'm 53,
but I wash my feet.

What do you mean by that?

I mean that I put them in water
and put soap on them.

Ah! I thought it was
a figure of speech.

No.

And she doesn't do the same?

Sure.
Once every two months.

Even though she sees me wash them
every week,

Like everyone.

Isn't that her over there?

Look at that,
like a big fat sausage.

Does she go to confession
from time to time?

No, never.

That's too bad, because you could
have said something to her about it.

A priest can't advise his flock
to wash their feet.

Yeah...

Of course, but you could have
made her understand that...

What?

Oh, you're right.

Try to make a woman understand she's
in the way and should go to the devil...

Do you have imagination, father?

Perhaps, yes, a little.

All right, listen,
you're sleeping

and you see that
coming into your bed.

Forgive me, I have a lot less
imagination than you think.

Of course, but come on...

We're both men, after all,
you must understand.

Yes...
I understand you.

But I hope you don't talk about your
wife like that to just anybody.

I wouldn't let myself.
There are too many evil tongues.

If something bad happened to her--
-- They'd accuse me of the crime.

Don't worry,
I stay on my guard.

If I talk to you, it's precisely
because you're not just anyone.

There are moments when you want
to say certain things out loud

because when you talk to yourself,

it very quickly goes
a little too far.

It's very dangerous because
the plans you make in silence,

well, they have a way
of becoming reality

without difficulty.

I don't know what you're
talking about at the moment,

but it does seem like you're
talking to yourself and going too far.

Hello, Mrs. Michaud...

Hello, Mr. Chevillard.
-- How are things with you?

Very well, and you?

Too much?

Permit me...
-- No.

It's done.
Paregoric elixir.

Yes.
But how did you know?

Come on now.

Anyway, that's why I wanted to do
a little addition, and I've just done it.

In a town like R�monville,

I find 30 percent...

and 70 percent constipated.

That explains everything.
-- What, everything?

The country...

There she is again.
Madame's doing her errands.

She's going to the pharmacist's.

Is she sick?
-- No danger of that!

Now, now...

Well! I've just come from your place,

Mrs. Michaud.
I would have liked some muslin.

I don't have any right now,
Mrs. Braconnier.

That's what your daughter
told me.

Calomel.

Vermifuge.

Ipecac.

How can I be of service,
Mrs. Braconnier?

I'd like some rat poison,
Mr. Gaillard.

Do you want a lot of it?
-- Yes, enough for several times.

I'll give you 500 grams.

So, overall, it's what's called
taking a dislike to someone.

It's much worse than that.

It's not hatred.
-- Oh, yes it is!

Come on, you're making yourself out
to be more wicked than you are.

In spite of everything you
wouldn't want to see her dead?

I was going to pray for you
tonight,

Don't make me have to pray for her!

Is the rat poison good?

In what sense?

In the only sense there is.

In that case, it's good.

It's very, very good.

To think there are cuckolds.

Envy is a sin, my son.

Well well well!

There's enough
to kill ten people.

No, not ten, seven.

How is Mr. Braconnier?

Like an oak.

He'll bury us all.

You're very charming.
How much do I owe you?

How's it going?

Fine.

What's the matter?
-- I have no idea.

Anything wrong, Paul?

No, not at all.
Everything's fine.

Well, time for chow.

So long, everybody.

See you tomorrow.

See you tomorrow.
-- OK, see you tomorrow.

Yes.
-- See you tomorrow.

You see what time it is,
Mr. Braconnier?

Yes, I see.

Oh, the bastard.

Cow...

It was Mrs. Braconnier
calling her husband.

If he gave her a good beating
now and then,

it might teach her how to live.

And if your late husband
had beaten you?

It's because he gave himself that liberty,
father, that I wish it on others.

Ah, Christian charity!
There's another of your victories.

What's the matter,
can't you get a move on?

They'll show off
all their finery

Mr. Pigeon says to Mrs. Pigeon

We'll love each other forever

What the pigeon says
the finch repeats

And the wagtail
makes it into a song

And life is on holiday

What is this sweet whisper

That goes on all day long?

You can hear it in the branches

It is the song of love

Now the rosebushes
are budding

They'll show off
all their finery

Mr. Pigeon says to Mrs. Pigeon

We'll love each other forever

What the pigeon says
the finch repeats

And the wagtail
makes it into a song

And life is on holiday

Let's follow his example

And since the two of us are here

You, Mr. Pigeon, and me, Mrs. Pigeon

Let's love each other,
let's be happy

Now the rosebushes
are budding

They'll show off
all their finery

Mr. Pigeon says to Mrs. Pigeon

We'll love each other forever

What the pigeon says
the finch repeats

And the wagtail
makes it into a song

And life is on holiday

Ladies and gentlemen, you will now hear
for the first time a one-act comedy

by Jean-Michel Vinclair
and Paul-Henry Marchepied,

starring Anne-Marie B�tavy
et Jean-Victor Caban�re.

Produced for radio
by Albert-L�on Fromageot.

Sound effects by
Louis-Alphonse Rapha�l.

Script girl,

Jeanne-Patricia Nebracot.

Production coordinator,
Patrick-Antoine Decourt.

And it's an
Armand-Justin Toupinel production.

No, no, no, no!
That would be too easy.

And don't imagine I'm going to
stand for such behavior any more!

As for forgiving you,
don't count on that.

People forgive when they're old enough.
I'm thirty, don't forget.

So you shouldn't be surprised
I'm not backing down.

Why did I marry you anyway?

I can say the same to you,
and the idea of starting

my life over doesn't frighten
me in the least.

Sure it doesn't! The chance to behave
like a girl of the streets...

(Woman) Because men like you, my friend,
there's any number of them...

(Man) ...should fulfill your dearest wish.
(Woman) ...and more generous than you.

-- Wretch!
-- Imbecile!

-- Liar!
-- Egomaniac!

-- Cruel!

Your breakfast is served, father.

Thank you, my child.

Tuesday, October 9
Saint Denis

Already!

Some people of the town
want to see you, father.

Have them come in.

Come in.

Please come in.

Sit down.

I'm listening.

Hoping you will be good enough
to forgive this intrusion, father,

we've come as a delegation,
so to speak,

these ladies and myself,
to present a request to you.

Ah...

Please go ahead,
Mrs. Poitrinot.

All the businesspeople
of R�monville,

for months now we've been wondering
what we could do to give,

how shall I put it,
a little push

to our village.
-- A little push?

We're not very well situated,
and it all comes from that.

-- It comes from that?
-- Suppose we were...

...right on the Evreux road, business
would go up right away, wouldn't it?

Of course, ladies.

But I don't have the power
to move our village.

Of course not!

But without moving it, you could
perhaps do it a great service.

A great service?

It would be enough to
draw attention to it.

-- What draws attention to a small town?
-- What makes newspapers talk about it?

What makes people from Paris
come visit it?

Visit it?

The discovery of a--
How did you call it?

Gallo-Roman.
A Gallo-Roman treasure.

Gallo-Roman?

A terrible car accident
with five or six dead.

Five or six dead.

Something unexpected.

Unexpected.

If one of us had quintuplets,
for example.

Anyway, something extraordinary.

Yes.
In short, a miracle.

You've said the word, father!

A miracle!

Something that would let us put
a sign on the Evreux road

with "R�monville" and an arrow.
-- And an arrow.

Well, for that, we would need
something extraordinary.

Extraordinary.
-- So...

An idea came to me...

Look at my daughter, father.

But I know her.
-- Yes, but...

Look carefully at her.

You see what I mean?

Not at all.

Leave us alone, dear.

She's very -- very backward.

And so?

Like all limited children, she
believes what she's told to believe.

And so?

Well, we thought about Lisieux,
which succeeded so well.

She could be healed miraculously,
thanks to you.

It would be fantastic!
-- Are you joking?

No, father!!!

If you're serious,
it's even worse.

All that I can promise you,

and I do promise it,

is to pray to the good lord
that a miracle happen

�t R�monville.

Thank you, father.
-- Thank you.

Come on.

It's scandalous!

They are the faithful ones.

He came from here, Pasteur?
-- Huh?

Pasteur?
He came from everywhere.

Again.

I came for refuge in your place,
Mrs. Tiberghen? Do you mind?

Go ahead.

Father, it's seven o'clock
and dinner is served.

Thank you, my daughter.

You're welcome, father.

It's at night
That it gets awful.

I don't come home anymore
until the last possible minute.

And it's the radio that saves us,
because it keeps us from talking.

Without it, something bad might have
already happened in the house.

It's good to know that radio
can be of some use.

And me who had
naively thought things were

going better at your house
these last few days.

Quite the contrary. It's because
of the horror I have for her.

I've even started wondering if it
wouldn't be better to blow my brains out.

Oh, such ideas.

Her eyes, her hands,
her voice...

Everything she does and says,
her very silence, even her sleep--

Will you please be quiet?

What is he saying to you now
that makes you tell him to be quiet?

Horrible things about his wife.

He sees her as blacker

than she is.
-- Oh!

Here is Report Radio.

We got hold of Louis Aubanel
on his way home

Hurry! You're going to talk!

And the famous lawyer of the Assises

gracefully consented
to our impromptu interview

For, just like his friends
and his clients,

we're anxious to celebrate

his hundredth acquittal.
It is the hundredth today, isn't it?

That's right.
-- In twenty years,

is that right?
-- Yes.

May I ask
to what you attribute

this extraordinary,
almost fabulous success?

Only to the fact that
since my youth, I thought

there was an essential difference

between assassins
and murderers.

How nice your voice
can be, darling.

Assassins scarcely interest me,
but murderers fascinate me.

It's the first time you've heard
yourself? -- Yes.

I don't grasp this
essential difference you speak of.

I hardly have the time now
to explain it,

but maybe I can
briefly clarify it.

Among criminals, there are a lot
more murderers than assassins.

And among murderers, there are
more judges than people think.

It's frightening, what
I just said there.

The man who kills his son-in-law,

the wife who kills her husband,
the husband who kills his wife,

are these people assassins?
Not at all!

Because the removal
of the people they killed

renders them harmless
from that point on.

I'll just add one more thing:

Most murders are duels.

And the person whom justice calls

the murderer,
I call him the winner.

You let them listen
to such monstrosities? Really!

You should have seen her
at seventeen.

What's that?

It's the radio.

Oh, I see.

She was the nicest-looking babe

Going to bed.

Go ahead.

Her father brought her up
in the days

Of great kicks in the butt.

I like this a lot better.
-- Me too!

How I hate myself
for being so cowardly.

Of great kicks in the butt...

Oh, for God's sake!

Are you coming to bed or not,
shit-head?

No! I'm working.

See you tomorrow.
-- He's working! Miserable ass!

If he could just drop dead,
that one!

Wednesday, October 10
Saint Borgia

I have to go to Paris.

When?

Oh, a day or two from now.

To do what?

To look at a new tractor.

I don't know
the train times, but

if I leave early in the morning
I'll be back in time for dinner.

Since I have, in principle,
your agreement, sir,

may I ask you
what would be the amount

in which I'd remain indebted to you
for having defended my cause?

300,000 francs.

Fine.

But I'd like to ask
you a question.

Go right ahead.

For what reason do you
choose me as your lawyer?

Because I believe you are
an exceptional man,

unique,
I would almost say, a phenomenon.

Aren't you on your
hundredth acquittal?

For almost twenty years, haven't you
torn from the arms of the guillotine

the most hideous of criminals?

You'll allow me to take
some pride in that.

But since you honor me by granting me
this rather singular quality,

the question I asked you
is the more pertinent.

Why choose me,

since you were the indirect victim
of the crime that's been committed?

The assassin is known, she's behind bars,
she can't deny her crime,

this crime touches you,
you are better than an innocent man.

I choose as a lawyer
the known defender

of the guilty. Why?
-- Yes, why?

Because I hate
that little creature

who killed my stepbrother.

And because, since it's a civil action,
I could fear only one thing:

that she'd have you

as a lawyer.

Whereas, in becoming the adversary
of the one who will defend her,

you will put me at ease.

In that case I am sure
of her condemnation.

That's exactly why I'm going
to ask you to let me have

Forty-eight hours to think about it.

What you were hoping for just now,
I have reason to fear.

As the adversary
of the one who will defend her,

my presence at your side
could be, if not fatal,

at least prejudicial to her.

And I wouldn't want that.
-- But she's a criminal.

Yes. But even if she has only
one chance, it must be left to her.

Are you willing to give me
forty-eight hours to think about it?

With pleasure.

I'll see you out.

Have you decided
to tell me no?

Frankly, not yet.

But having never helped anyone
but the guilty,

you'll understand that I hesitate
to proclaim, all of a sudden, the opposite

of what I've been saying for twenty years.
-- I understand very well.

In any case,
I'll agree to this:

if in forty-eight hours
I tell you no,

it's with the commitment that
I won't agree to be her defender.

Thank you.

Your candelabra
are very beautiful.

Yes. An arsonist
gave them to me.

Goodbye.
-- Goodbye.

Who called
five minutes ago?

A man who refuses
to tell his name,

who is as nervous as can be,
almost agitated,

and who begs you
to receive him.

In short, he seems like someone who
would rather not run into the police.

It seems like it.

I'll see him in a moment.

Sir,

I won't wait forty-eight hours

to tell you

that, to my very great regret,

it will not be possible for me
to assist you in this matter.

Don't hold it against me,

and bear in mind
that I will willingly keep

the promise
I made to you.

I have the honor to remain, etc.

I'll sign this letter as soon as it's
done, and please send it tonight.

Have this person come in
who won't say his name.

Come in, please.
Sit down.

I'm listening.

I killed my wife.

When?

Yesterday evening.

How did you kill her?

Well...
with a knife?

Yes!

All right.

Would it have been better
to poison her?

I didn't say that.

It seemed to me that a knife...
-- Yes, it's the best thing.

With poison, it's premeditated.

That's what I think, too.

Then, you did premeditate it?

What?

Her death.

Uh...

I'm not the judge.

Ah, that's right.

No, well, it can't be said
that I premeditated it.

It's just the way things happened.

Exactly.

And yet you just said that the knife
was the best thing of all.

It was you who said it.

What are you talking about?

You asked me
if I killed her with a knife.

And you said yes.

Yes, naturally. So, the idea of
the knife, you're the one who had it.

What you're saying is absurd.

No...
It's just that I'm expressing it badly.

Would it have been better
if I had killed her differently?

But of course not.

Anyway, what's done is done.

All right.

Then I was right
to do it that way.

I already told you, yes.

All right. I just wanted to know
if I understood right.

You have to excuse me if I'm
a little nit-picky.

Crimes are your life, right? Basically
the only people you meet are assassins

So you can't help
being used to it.

But me, it's the first time
I've killed somebody.

So, obviously,
I'm a little bit of a panic.

I just wanted to know
if I didn't make a mistake.

Maybe there were some precautions
I should have taken.

That's the very reason
I'm asking you questions.

Fine!

So,
you're not mad at me

for what I said?
-- Of course not. Let's go on.

No, but it's because you said the word
"premeditated" that my ears perked up.

Well, fine, I withdraw it.

Without having been premeditated,
nonetheless this idea

was on your mind.

It's just that for months
I couldn't take it any more.

That's all I wanted to know.

You were older than she?
-- By one year.

Did she drink?

A lot?
-- Way too much.

Was she cheating on you?

Well, I'm not sure.

But you assume so, without
having proof of it?

Exactly.

So, deep down,
you felt betrayed by her.

That's it.

It's hard to say this, but when one has
committed a crime, one should use

everything that might extenuate it.
-- Of course.

So, she was cheating on you.

I'd bet my head on it.

You should avoid that phrase.

Yes.

Let's get back to the knife.

With pleasure.

But first tell me, why have you
chosen me as your lawyer?

Oh, well...

You knew me by name?
-- Vaguely,

three days ago, but the other night
I made your acquaintance by radio.

The things you said, and also the way
you said them, impressed me a lot.

And when I heard that you
were on your hundredth acquittal,

I said, well, there's your man!

Would you have killed her

if you hadn't first heard
that interview?

Maybe not.

All right... The knife?

Ah!

I'm listening.

No, it's I who must hear you.

Oh, that's right.

You gave her several blows?

Only one. Was I right?

Yes, that's better for you...

and for her.
-- It's more of an "accident."

We're not asking for as much as that.

Where did you stab her?

Well, you see...

In the belly?
-- In the belly. Yes...

I didn't look.

But she's dead?

Yes, of course.

Don't worry about that.

How is it that you're still free?

Because it isn't known.

Maybe now it's known,
but this morning when I left,

it wasn't known yet.

Where do you live?

R�monville.

1, place Jean Jaur�s.

Your name, given name, title?

Paul, Louis, Victor, Braconnier.

You put that as your profession?
[braconnier = poacher]

No... Braconnier,
that's my family name.

My trade is horticulture.

Your current wealth?

700,000.

Eh?
-- 700,000.

She knew that?

Oh...
Just about.

And of course she was interested.

By the way, you must charge a lot
for a case like mine.

We'll talk about that later.

That's right.

Your age?
-- 53.

You were married for...
-- Thirty years.

You've never been convicted?

I mean, not for theft,...

Oh, no! On the contrary.

Fine. Let's return to the knife.
Where was it?

In the belly.

Yes, but before?

It was there, like that...

On the table?
-- On the table.

You didn't take it
out of the drawer?

It was she
who set the table?

She always sets the table.
Or rather, used to set it.

All right.

She never made the least attempt
at murder in your direction?

No...

Not to my knowledge.

She hadn't bought

a revolver recently, for example?

Well...

No.
That would have been good, right?

Of course.

Unfortunately, no.
Oh...

Too bad.

So, yesterday evening, she was drunk.
-- Yes.

Would you have a witness

to her state of intoxication?

Certainly.

Without going so far as
to plead self-defense,

did you ever feel
threatened by her?

Yes.

She often said to me:
"Won't you ever drop dead?"

That, really...

That's not a thing to say!
-- No, certainly.

But it's more a hope
than a threat.

A gesture would have more eloquence.

How would a soup tureen do for you?

A soup tureen?

A soup tureen, that big,
what if she threw it at my head?

But did she do it?
-- Yes!

-- Was it a long time ago?
-- Yesterday evening.

That's good, very good.

Just a second before...
before she was struck by the knife.

So, a reflex.

Or better still, a defense.
-- Yes.

You took the knife because after all
she was threatening to throw

the soup tureen at you.
-- And since the table was between us...

Leaning forward to throw the soup tureen
at you, she, so to speak,

stuck herself.
-- Yes, that's it!

Oh, it's fun, isn't it?

What's fun?

The way you
reconstruct the scene.

That's what experience counts for.

I hope I haven't forgotten anything.
Don't wait to be arrested.

Go have yourself taken into custody
right away.

Yes. Right away.

As soon as you get back.
-- Yes!

Then, six hours later,
designate me as your attorney.

But above all,
don't speak.

Say that you won't speak
unless I am present.

I'll show you out.

And let me know

what prison you're in.
-- It will be Evreux, probably.

You won't be too bad off there.
-- You've been there yourself?

I've gone there as a lawyer.
-- Ah!

But, just to wrap up,

This conversation between us...

Might not ever have happened.

Should I recopy the notes
that you took?

No, I'd rather
finish them myself.

Is it an interesting case?

Yes, easy.
I would even say banal

if the man
weren't so extraordinary.

He's a kind of
captivating monster

who exudes
a singular charm.

He has something in him both

of the Chimera

and of the clown.

Have I got another appointment?

Not to my knowledge.

The prosecutor of the Republic.

You had him go into the living room?
Yes, sir.

Fine, thank you.

Ask him to come in, please.

Hello, my dear colleague and friend.
Mr. Prosecutor, welcome.

I won't try to hide the pleasant
surprise your visit brings me.

Please see it as evidence of
the interest I take in you,

and I specifically wanted my visit
to have no official nature.

To receive you in my office
would have attracted attention

and, to tell the whole story,
at 5:00 I have to be

at the house of Mrs. de Mongerond
who lives across the street.

I jumped at the coincidence,

And here I am
completely at ease,

to tell you now in the most cordial,
the most even tone possible

the least pleasant thing
in the world:

the interview you gave
to the radio the night before last

has had the worst possible effect,
I won't conceal it from you.

Those who heard it
repeat your words,

and everyone else
misrepresents them.

Don't say anyting in response.
What's done is done.

But be on your guard.

For one thing, your hundred acquittals
of which you are so proud, most justly,

have made you countless enemies
at the Palais.

I perfectly understand
that you don't care at all about it,

but on the other hand, your
unexpected arguments,

which you sometimes push
to the point of paradox,

could eventually have
rather unpleasant consequences.

What consequences?

I'll tell you.

President Bercholdt and I
saw each other this morning,

and we did not disagree
in thinking

that the distinction
you are pleased to make

between murderer and criminal might
be disturbing to people's consciences.

Excuse me, Mr. Prosecutor,
I'm not the one who acquits them.

I don't hold your acquittals
against you...

Permit me to say
I'm glad to hear it.

I don't hold anything against you,

except perhaps the rather
sharp tone of your response.

We are not in court here, Mr. Aubanal,
and I happen to be in your house.

Please forgive me.
-- I do so gladly,

Out of esteem for your talent.

But...

Maybe I haven't
made myself clear.

When I say that your arguments
might disturb people's conscience,

I'm not talking about
the conscience of judges or juries

But of that of countless
eventual murderers

who follow debates,
who read newspapers,

and who carry you
in their hearts.

It's not the magistrate
who's talking to you here,

it's the man,

it's the friend, who wonders
if your exceptional

and at times very singular eloquence
might not be of such a kind, I repeat,

as to encourage crime.

Yes!

How can we be sure that one day
some wretch might not say to himself:

"I'm going to kill my father,
or my mother, or my daughter

and all I have to do
is get Aubanel as my lawyer"?

I heard it last night, at the Opera,
jokingly, from a lady.

That...
-- I agree.

But after all the idea came to her.
Would it have without your interview?

I couldn't say.

There were five of us,
in my box,

talking about it.

-- But that phrase, did she say that?
-- She summed it up like this:

"With a man like Aubanel, there's no need
to worry. I'm buying a gun tomorrow."

I'm checking the time, excuse me,
I have two minutes.

I hope you don't
take what I've said

in the wrong way.

I have no hidden intention,
believe that right away.

On my way up the stairs
I passed a man

who was leaving your house
at the same moment.

What man was that?

A killer?
-- Yes.

A murderer, you'll tell me.
-- Yes.

Did he speak to you
about your interview?

Yes.

Well then. Am I wrong,
in your opinion?

No...

What do you want me to do?

Should I help the justice system
condemn one out of every two people?

Of course not!

I won't give any more interviews,
I promise you that.

But I was in a good mood,
we were celebrating...

Your hundredth success.

Yes, you had your one-hundredth,
as playwrights do.

But after all,
justice isn't theater.

Oh?
-- No.

And get rid of those pithy formulas
that made your reputation,

but that are dangerous
in the extreme.

Like this one,

about people whom, you claim,
are inhabitual murderers.

You say: "An assassin, many times,
Is just a thief who is interrupted."

No,

Don't excuse theft too much.

Would you like me to have
a false beard made

and plead in court sometimes
under a false name?

That new lawyer would become
famous after a month,

That would make
two instead of one;

Better not to.

Aubanel...
-- Mr. Prosecutor?

If a man or a woman bringing
civil action in a criminal trial

came to see you tomorrow
and asked for your assistance,

what would you do?

I would accept.
-- Thank you.

I'll go hear you on that day.

Aubanel getting
an assassin convicted.

Unless at the last minute,
losing my head, or making a mistake,

I come to his defense.

You love assassins and thieves
so much as that?

Less than the public.

If newspapers didn't report the crimes
that were committed the day before,

they'd lose at least
half their readers.

And yet
killing is vile.

Yes, but it keeps
so many people alive.

Hmm?
-- Yes.

You're sleeping on the floor now?

You must have been drunk.

Mind your own business.

You'll probably
want to eat.

No, but I'm thirsty.

Some more.

More.

Go get some,
if you want more.

I'm keeping this for myself.

You don't think you're
drunk enough yet?

I'm never drunk enough
to forget your face.

You had the time

to forget my face a little while ago
when I wasn't here, didn't you?

Maybe you had a good time.

Had a good time?

Had a good time?

With whom
would I have a good time?

With your Jules.

With my Jules? What Jules?

Oh, give me a break...
A person knows what he knows.

You mean Jules Martinet?
-- Well, there you are!

You're too much of an ass,
I'm not even going to answer.

It's a good idea
to shut everything up,

It's better people don't
hear you talk such crap.

Jealous, now?
That's all that was missing.

Go find yourself some wine,
it'll be better for you, moron.

We'll talk about it later.

All you want,
asshole...

I would rather

Work the earth
than put on elastic boots

We would rather work the earth
than put on white gloves

Come on, be strong.

Three bottles,
you'll remember, right?

You can be sure.
-- I'll pay tomorrow.

There, there.

Come on.
Clink glasses with me now.

After all,
you're more stupid than bad.

You don't want to make peace?

All right, let's both get up

Since you want to clink glasses.

A gun shot.

I don't think so, but
it's not something much better.

Can't hear anything.
That's not a good sign.

No?
-- Why?

If one of them got killed,
we'd hardly hear the other one scream.

Don't you think we should
tell the police?

They don't like it
when we bother them for nothing.

What makes you think it's nothing?

It's time for them to make their rounds,
let's wait for them.

I see you all frozen here,
What's happened?

Good evening, father.

A moment ago we heard some loud noise
from the Braconniers', then nothing.

So we were wondering if maybe
something had happened.

And since they're always fighting--

But things were going better
between them, the last two days.

That's true, I noticed.

Anyway, I'm not in favor of getting
mixed up in others' business.

That's why I was saying
we ought to tell the police.

There they are,

the policemen.

We could mention something about it.
-- You're making a mistake.

No.
It's better not to smell like wine.

There he is.

I just killed her.

I was just going to go
have myself taken into custody.

Follow us.

Don't touch anything.

Where is the corpse?
-- There.

Ah, yes.

So, exactly what happened?

I won't answer
unless my attorney is present.

That's your absolute right.
-- Something's broken over there.

That's the soup tureen
she threw at my head.

I was there, she was here.

What's going on?

A drama at the Braconniers'.

What kind of drama?

A killing!

A killing?

That doesn't surprise me.
I'm coming down right away.

Why doesn't it surprise him?

Have a drink.

No, thank you.

It'll pull you together.
-- Out of the question.

The police are there?
-- Yes!

I'll go. She killed him,
the bitch!

No, she didn't!

I'm telling you, yes.

When I say something, you can
believe it. Let me alone.

Maybe he knows more than we do.

Still he thinks it's Paul who's dead.
-- Because he's deaf.

He killed her out of jealousy.
-- Jealousy?

-- It seems she was
Jules's mistress.

Which Jules?

Martinet. I heard him
accuse her of it.

Well, what do you know?

See what that is.

What is it?

Have him take this right away.
It's an antidote.

Have someone let me in,
and I'll tell you everything.

He's gone mad!
An antidote for a knife wound!

What are you saying?
-- Nothing.

Leave me alone!

Come in.

Not you!

Give me the little vial,
I'll make him drink it.

Apparently she was
Jules's mistress.

Jules's mistress!

Excuse me...

She bought some rat poison
from me four days ago.

Drink, my poor friend, drink.

But she's the one who's dead.

What did you say?
-- She's the one who's dead.

Ah, I see...

But she died of a knife wound.

Yes!

Here, quickly!

He caught them together,
Jules and her,

And that's why he killed her.

The pharmacist
just died of an embolism.

A visitor for you.

A visitor?
-- No more than five minutes.

Jules!
-- Good old Paul!

Let me give you a hug.

I've brought your old suit

and some little treats.

We all put in together
to give you this surprise.

The hard-boiled eggs
are Mrs. Michaud.

The slices of ham are
Gustave.

The chocolate is Ernestine.

And the gruy�re is me.

How did you manage
to get in here?

Germaine's brother used to be the
lover of the wife of the head guard.

Oh, so that's it.

And in the village, how's it going?

It's going very well.

But, concerning me?

It's going very well.

There no one who's not on your side
because this has done us all good.

Done you good? How?

For business.

You know you've had some very good
articles in the newspapers.

What do you mean, "very good"?

On the front page.

And very long,
with the titles in big letters,

R�monville, here,
R�monville, there.

So, you can imagine!

Photographers, cars all day long
that now go through the town

thanks to the sign
they put on the Evreux road.

For the whole region, it's a windfall!
To give you an idea,

at our little caf�, you know--
-- Yes.

They've added eight tables
on the terrace.

And as for the house of the crime--

that's what your house
is called now--

let's not even talk about it!

What's happening?
-- Visitors from morning to night;

Sometimes they need people
to control the lines!

The pieces of the soup tureen
are in a glass case.

As for the knife you used,
they stuck it

right in a loaf of bread
on the kitchen table,

with a "Don't touch" sign.

It's considered as a relic,
you understand?

Because you've become popular,
my old Paul,

And whatever will happen to you,

be assured R�monville and its
inhabitants aren't ingrates,

and you can count
on their gratitude.

Well, all right.

She won't put any more

Water in my glass

Because now Poison is dead

Come on, altogether.

She won't put any more
Water in my glass

Because that ugly woman Poison
is dead.

We're beginning to know it, right?

Braconnier, your lawyer
is asking for you.

At last!

You can call yourself lucky
to have such a lawyer.

With a man like Aubanel, you're saved.
-- That's the reason I chose him.

You've had your black coffee?
-- Yes, thanks.

Hello.

How I wanted to see you!
I couldn't stand it any more.

Especially since you're going
to hear some terrific news.

She tried to poison me.
You can be happy! Absolutely.

Four days before the crime, she bought
some rat poison from the pharmacist,

and there were never rats
at our house!

I learned it from the pharmacist, who
slipped it in my ear before dying,

And that's how he died,
because he drank my glass.

As of now, of course, I didn't want
to say anything, since you advised me

not to talk except in your presence.

But have them
do an autopsy on the pharmacist.

With that, it's all set!

I've got your murder attempt,
which you were so set on having.

You're pleased with me, I think?

On that point, no doubt,

but there is another one
on which I'm much less so.

Ah?

Let's sit down.

I have to talk very seriously
to you.

Is there something wrong?

Yes.

Last night I received the declaration
made by the Evreux police

on the evening of the crime,

And I need an immediate explanation.
-- About what?

About the date of the killing.

The declaration reads:

"We went to the place of the crime

on Thursday, October 11, at 20:00."

So?
-- Wait a moment.

"Dr. Fromanger stated that the victim
had received a knife wound in the abdomen

"and that her death
occurred about twenty minutes

"previously."
-- And so?

What do you mean, "and so?"

Therefore you killed her
on the evening of the 11th?

What's so extraordinary about that?

But it was on the 11th
that you came to see me, during the day.

Is there more?

Telling me you had killed your wife
the night before,

when in reality you killed her
four hours later.

For her, it doesn't change anything,
for me neither in fact.

But for me, it changes everything.

I don't see
what importance it has

that I killed her on Thursday
instead of Wednesday.

But why did you come to see me
before you killed her?

For two reasons.

First to find out
if I would have you as a lawyer,

and also so that you'd tell me
how I should go about it.

No one could have advised me
better than you.

The proof is that
I followed

all your instructions.
-- My instructions ?

The knife on the table,
the soup tureen at the head,

the jealousy scene before, everything
was done. I'll even say, scrupulously.

Scrupulously?

I didn't want you to
blame me for anything afterward.

If I hadn't lied, if I'd said to you:
"I want to kill her tonight,

"how should I go about it?",
you'd have thrown me right out.

Whereas by saying I'd killed her
the night before, I reassured you,

And since you have
a passion for crimes,

the questions you asked me
showed me what I should do.

So you accuse me of having...

Pardon me, I don't accuse you,
that would be stupid of me,

but I'm grateful to you
for having guided me so well.

Guided?

It wasn't me who had
the idea of the knife.

I wanted to poison her.
That's the first idea that comes

to us people who aren't
in the business.

You preferred the knife,
I went with the knife.

What I don't understand
is why you seem annoyed.

Don't you understand that if
such a thing were known--

But it doesn't have to be known,
don't say anything!

In an affair like this
the two of us should walk

hand in hand. We're a little like
two accomplices, you understand.

That's exactly what I don't want.

But I don't see any better way
to get us out of it.

And if I refused
to plead your case?

That wouldn't be very clever of you.

And why not?

I'd get revenge, by saying you were
the one who made me kill her.

I wouldn't do it out of meanness,
but in order to save my head.

And it would be the truth,

because between you and me,
I can say it now,

I might never have killed her
without you.

The proof is that for a few days
I was hesitating between her and me.

One of the two of us was too much,

I said that to Mrs. Tiberghen,
the florist. Somehow we had to separate

Either by my getting rid of her
or getting rid of myself,

or else by waiting for her
to get rid of me.

And if I got rid of her,

it's because you gave me courage
by agreeing to take my defense.

It's crucial, at this moment,
to have you as my lawyer.

Let me tell you, in prison, one is
treated better right away

when they know you're
one's lawyer.

To be defended by Aubanel,
for these people,

is almost like being innocent,
because acquittal is certain.

That's why I'm warning you, I'll
be terrible for you if you drop me.

To make me kill my wife,
that's violent.

But to have me guillotined on top
of that, that's totally out of bounds.

So, no fooling around, all right?

And I'm counting on you.

All the more since
-- forgive me --

just as you're doing me a service,

I'm doing you one, and because
I've followed all your instructions

I'm bringing you an acquittal
that's already all cooked.

One more! And a great one!

Would you happen to have a cigarette,
by any chance?

No, thank you.

Do you have a light?
-- No.

Jailer.

Jailer!

A light.

So you can't do anything.

Take that.

So, we're in agreement?

Tell me about
this rat poison.

With pleasure.

Just think, if I'd killed her the way
I was going to, you'd be saying today:

"Next time, come see me first
before doing something so stupid."

Julie Poitrinot, Jules Martinet,

Andr� and Germaine Chavillard

Father M�tivet

and Am�lie Bertelon.

Th�r�se Chignol, Victor Boitevin,

Ernestine Abajoue.

So, what, we're all witnesses?
-- Get going, you're late already.

Louis Colledepate
and Gustave Battendier.

Come on, get going.

Goodbye!

Thank you.

Hey! You over there!

You heard your parents, I'm in charge
while they're gone and you'd better obey me.

So, have fun,
but don't hurt yourselves.

Braconnier,
have you understood the charge?

Yes, yes.

All that's very pretty.

But the main thing is missing.

I was in a circumstance
of self-defense

and that's not mentioned

Even though that changes everything.

You're trying to make me an assassin,
but it won't work,

because if I hadn't killed my wife,
I'd be the one who'd be dead,

And blaming me for killing her is
like blaming me for not being dead.

And if I were the one
who was dead,

she'd be the one who would be here
today before you, in the place

I'm sitting in.

And far more guilty than we--

"We." He admits the two of us
were in it together.

Yes, much more guilty,

For having bought the rat poison
three days before,

she thus premeditated her crime!

Excuse me.

When you killed her, you didn't know
she herself had criminal intentions.

Intentions? You really make me laugh.

She put rat poison

in my glass,
and you call that "intentions."

It seems to me it's
more like a fact!

Fine! And this fact,
you weren't aware of it!

In that case I deserve more praise
for having guessed at it.

I saw in her eyes
that she wanted me dead.

Then I saw the knife too,
and I took it right away,

so that she wouldn't get it--

And you killed her.

I defended myself.

So well that for once, your honor,
the punishment

preceded the crime.

And I think you have a lot of nerve
to make a case against me out of it,

when it ought to serve
as a lesson for you.

You're going too far.
-- Not in the least.

And I insist on being clear on this point.
My wife was an assassin,

we all agree on that. Fine.

In killing her, I did nothing other than
what you would have done yourself.

Please be quiet.
-- No, I won't be quiet.

Because that's what you're doing.
Only, you're doing it

too late,

with that habit you have of
waiting till someone is killed.

You do justice,
I won't say you don't,

but that makes one more dead person.

With my own system there's one less.

If I'd come to you before and said,
"My wife is going to kill me tomorrow,"

Could you have done something for me?
Nothing at all.

If I'd asked you permission to kill her
before she killed me,

you wouldn't have given it to me,

and you would have let me get poisoned
without even lifting your little finger.

That's why I just said to you today

you have a lot of nerve to blame me
for doing your work.

This is insane.

I've noticed something
extraordinary:

how much the fact of having committed
a crime develops the intelligence.

In normal times, I would never have been
as brilliant as I was just now.

Madame, where did they all go?

Who?
-- Our parents.

To Pont-l'Ev�que.
-- And why did they go there?

To attend Mr. Braconnier's trial.

The man who killed his wife?

That's right.
-- They're lucky!

Don't touch that.

Do you swear to tell the truth,
the whole truth,

and nothing but the truth?
-- That's not a question to be asked.

Yes, it's to be asked.

Let's say it's not to be refused.

Look, I swear it, just like all the liars
who came to lean on this little balcony.

Your reflections
are not needed.

Some manners they have here.

Tell me about it.

You have a fabric shop

in R�monville.
-- I don't deny it, I'll even swear it.

Once is enough.

All right, I have a fabric shop
at your service.

One question.
-- Don't be shy.

To your knowledge--

To my knowledge! I have no knowledge.
-- Yes, you do--

I don't. I've never given my husband
horns to wear.

But that's not what I'm asking.

That's the way I understood it.

You were mistaken.

Then let's talk about something else.

I'd like to know if Paul Braconnier,
in your opinion, was a person

who would wish his wife dead.

Why, of course.

What do you mean, "of course"?

If I say "of course," it's because
it goes without saying.

Did you hear him say that to her?

It wouldn't have struck me.

It wouldn't have struck you?

Listen, who among us hasn't wished for
her husband's death.

That kind of thing is part of
the flow of married life,

And we don't get along
any worse for it.

Those who are of my kind
can witness it.

Mr. President, I find
this woman's remarks

Monstrous.

What hypocrites they are!

Ask the cur� and find out.

Father, you hear our confessions,
come help me.

You wouldn't dare ask me to betray
the secrets of the confession.

Without naming names, of course.
Don't be afraid, ladies!

Tell these gentlemen how numerous
are the parishioners of yours

who accuse themselves of having wished
for the deaths of those close to them.

Numerous... numerous...
-- There are some, aren't there?

There are a few.

The scrupulous ones.

Yes, that's the word.

We think alike.

And what did his wife do that
was so bad, that he killed her?

People do wonder about that.

If people wonder about that

that's just what I think.
-- What's that?

That she must have
cuckolded him.

Definitely!

Where did you learn that word?

But even so,
weren't you jealous of her?

Oh... well...

You formally declared it
at the arraignment.

Because you and I thought
it was a good idea,

But I'm not that crazy about it.

I think it even weakens my position.

But why?

Because in view of her appearance,

it's not a credible thing.

You have to let me do
as I want, a little.

Tell the president.

I don't dare.
-- Yes, yes,

it's important.

She cheated on him with
Jules Martinet, Mr. President.

Everyone in the region knew about it.

But that's completely false!

I'm not saying it's true, but
I heard Paul accuse her of it.

I tell you it's false, false, false!

Why are you so defensive about it?

Because, old man, excuse me,

I'd like to help you,
but this, listen, no!

She didn't seem to you, uh,
possible?

No, hey... frankly.

I agree.
We're all in agreement on that.

Andr�, Henri, Gustave,
Victor, Fernand.

I ask you, could you have done
what I'm thinking of with my wife?

Well?

What's more, I brought you
a photograph.

Hold on...

A photograph of my wife,
taken two years ago.

Would you be good enough
to pass this to these gentlemen?

That will convince them more
than anything I could say.

No need to ask you gentlemen if any
of you would ever have wanted to...

Please don't continue on this subject.

But come on, Braconnier,

Do you, then, consider yourself
handsome?

Aha! Then you admit that she was ugly.

Answer my question:

Do you consider yourself handsome?
-- No more than you, sir.

What do you mean, no more than I?

No, I don't think I'm any handsomer
than you think you are yourself.

Anyway, it's not about that.

It's not my beauty
that matters today, but hers.

Because after all it's never a question
of knowing if a woman can or can't.

She wants to,

or she doesn't want to,
which is secondary anyway,

whereas the man,
he has to be able to.

He can't get through it
by closing his eyes.

I don't know if
I make myself clear?

Anyway, I prefer to be accused
of having killed her for that, too,

rather than having it said
that I was jealous of her.

Because I value your esteem.

Is Mr. Braconnier
going to be guillotined?

I hope not.

Why?

Because you should never
wish for a man's death.

And a woman's, is it all right?
-- Of course not!

In your world,

when you can't stand your wife anymore,

first you cheat on her, and then,
you end up asking for a divorce.

In the country, it's different.

Peasants don't get divorced.

They wait for the other person to die
before trying to remake their life.

Sometimes they have to wait
a long time.

What nerve he has!

It's intolerable!

A son who kills his father,
he's a parricide?

Yes.

A mother who kills her son?
-- An infanticide.

And a husband who kills his wife?
-- An assassin.

Yesterday Daddy said
it was a widower!

Do you regret
having committed your crime?

That will depend on you.

If you convict me,
I'll regret it, fatally.

But if you acquit me,
well, in that case, certainly not!

Well.
-- If I had just wounded her,

and she were healed now, I'd rather be
convicted than go back to live with her.

But it would really be bad luck if,
having killed her,

you didn't let me
enjoy life a little.

Not a word of regret!
Not a word of pity!

No, sir.
Not a word. Not one.

No, sir.

To make you understand
that she deserved her punishment.

Do you have regrets

when you condemn someone?

Surely not. Well, neither do I.

What would I be like if I had regrets?

A marionette.

What are you doing over there?

We're playing husband and wife,
and my piece of wood is a knife.

Now, now, that's no game, come on.

And I would say still more

if his acquittal
seemed to me in doubt.

That's good stuff.

You're not ashamed of having
killed this woman?

The accused will rise.

On my soul and conscience,
before God and before men,

You are accused of killing
your wife.

We condemn you to have
your head cut off.

For these reasons,

Paul Braconnier...

What are they doing,

They're crazy!

You call these games?
I won't have any of this.

Pardoned!

Pardoned!

Pardoned!