All language subtitles for Monsieur Klein CD1

Rounded gums.

Slight prognathism.

Arched nostrils.

Normal nasolabial spacing.

Slightly flattened septum.

Fleshy lower lip.

Prognathous jaw
typical of non-Furopean races.

Narrow forehead.

Low hairline.

Hair is thick, oily and shiny.

Normal ears.

Lobes not fixed.

Slanted.

Slightly drooping upper eyelids.

Swarthy skin.

More or less Jewish facial expression.

Non-Jewish body language
during examination.

Now walk.

Naturally large and flaccid hips.

On tiptoe now.

Soles of the feet are flat.

Arch is totally absent.

Get dressed.

ln the opinion of the undersigned,

based on morphological
and behavioral data,

the subject could well belong

to the Semitic race.

Her ancestry could be eitherJewish,

Armenian,

or Arab.

For now, the case must be
considered doubtful.

You can go.

How much do l owe you?

See my secretary.

You'll be notified
by the prefecture of police.

Fifteen francs.

How did it go?

All right.

- What about you?
- All right.

Did he tell you anything?

And you?

- Mr. Klein?
- Yes, that's me.

Would you please come in?

I wanted to see you.

I have something
that might interest you.

Did a mutual friend send you?

I don't believe we've met.

I was told you might be interested

in purchasing paintings.

Well,yes, I might be.

I have a painting here.

It's a work by Adriaen van Ostade,

a portrait of a gentleman.

It's an authentic painting,
signed and dated.

It appears in the catalog.

Snow

woven of quartz and crystal,

pendant drops,

lacy arabesques,

webs of icy silk.

Fables, dreams,

spells, illusions.

And suddenly

the blue glare and the red blaze

of the young Phalangists.

The flower,

the pride of France.!

The paladins.!

On the horizon,
the pinnacles of Leningrad

appear and disappear

like a mirage.

Six hundred louis.

Three hundred.

You must bejoking.

At that price, I'd rather keep it.

As you wish.

It's easy for you,
when a man is forced to sell.

But I'm not forced to buy.

I'm not a collector.

For me

it's just a job.

Make me a reasonable offer.

Three hundred.

Robert!

Go back to bed.

- Why?
- ""Why?''

Why do you think?

- Wait a minute.
- Later. Go back to bed.

lf it were a matter of francs,

instead of gold louis...

lt's true that francs
are worthless abroad,

but if you need money in France --

l don't need it in France.

Very well.

Let's make out a receipt.

lt's just a formality.
lt's for me.

lt'll stay in my safe.

Here. Write it yourself.

Unless you have a receipt
from whoever sold it to you.

We've always had it in our house.

Always.

Well, perhaps my grandfather,

when he came from Holland.

Or perhaps his father.

Yes.

lt's a long time ago.
lt doesn't matter.

lt's just a formality.

Now would you write

""l, the undersigned'' --

Name, surname and address.

No, never mind the address.

Name, surname.

""Declare that l hereby make over

to Mr. Robert Klein

for the agreed amount

acceptable to me --

the agreed amount acceptable to me --

a painting by Adriaen van Ostade,

measuring 20 inches by 1 2,

this painting being
the portrait of a gentleman

from Holland.

Paris,January 1 6, 1 942.''

And your signature.

Have you got something to put it in?

No, but it doesn't matter.

Don't you want to count it?

Wait. l'll give you a present.

No, thank you.
Don't bother.

May l take one?

l have friends in the same situation,

and perhaps they...

Yes, of course.

Although l'd rather--

That is, recently,
l've seen many clients like you,

urgently needing to sell.

And l assure you
it's most unpleasant for me.

Fmbarrassing.

Very often l'd rather not buy.

Then don't.

Your newspaper.

You must have dropped it.

J FWlSH NFWS

You're right.

lt's my name and address.

The postman left it by your door.

Good-bye.

Bon voyage, and good luck.

Good luck to you, Mr. Klein.

Blue:

indifference.

A straight line
suspended in the sky.

White: cruelty.

An acute angle with its point
driven into the ground.

Black: arrogance.

A pyramid with its base
sunk into the sea.

And purple: greed.

ln the central circle, we see

remorse:

a vulture.

lts heart is pierced by an arrow,
yet it continues to fly.

ln each of the four corners,

woven in different colors,

are ancient cabalistic symbols.

For this splendid tapestry,

the bidding will start
at 1 50,000 francs.

Yes, 200,000.

250.

ln the back, 300.

Robert, you promised to advise me.

- On the tapestry?
- No, the console table.

- Did you forget?
- The console table.

There's still time.

l'm going to get a coffee.
l'll be back.

What do you think of the tapestry?

l think it's bad luck.

NOJ FWS ALLOWFD

Hello.

Thank you.

l just phoned.

This morning l received your paper

addressed to me.

l'm not a subscriber,
and l have no intention of--

l mean, l have no reason to be.

lsn't your paper sent
only to subscribers?

lt's our only way to keep
the community informed

about meetings, decisions

and new measures set up
by the authorities, and so on.

l understand,

but l don't belong to your--

Yes, l understand.

lt's strange.

Unless someone else --

perhaps a friend of yours --

subscribed for you.

That's impossible.

No one would play
that sort of joke on me.

You think we make
a good subject for jokes?

No, l didn't mean that.

But the very idea seems so absurd.

Please excuse me.

So you no longer wish
to receive our newspaper?

Fxactly.

l would also like to know
why you sent it to me.

l understand. Unfortunately,

we must wait until the prefecture
returns our list of subscribers.

Then we can check.

- The prefecture?
- Yes, the prefecture of police.

You give your lists to the police?

They're the ones who've allowed us
and advised us to publish this newspaper.

As l told you,
it's the only way we have --

Yes, l understand.

Where is the prefecture?

The Commission forJewish Affairs.

Robert Klein, did you say?

Yes.

Like that?

Address?

1 36 Rue du Bac.

How long have you lived there?

About seven years,
since l came to Paris.

Yes, in fact,
there is a Robert Klein.

But at another address.

Obviously a man with the same name.

May l have his address?

What would you say if l gave yours
to anyone who asked for it?

Take it away.

Where did you say you lived?

1 36 Rue du Bac.

The fact remains, someone
wrote my name on the paper. Why?

You understand my concern?

Perfectly.

lt's more curiosity than anxiety.
The fact someone would --

l'm sorry.
l'm taking up your time.

Such things can't interest the police.

Luckily for me.

What does ""Moby Dick'' mean?
ls it a name?

Yes.

A woman's name?

No, a whale's.

He's exactly like me.

Who's that?

lshmael.

Listen to this.

""Sixteen hours in bed.

The small of my back ached.

l felt worse and worse.

At last, l got up

and threw myself at her feet,

beseeching her to beat me,

to do anything, indeed,

but condemn me to lie in bed

for such an unendurable
length of time.''

Can l get up?

Do me a favor:
Get a different book.

The one with the pink cover.

""Chlo�.''

From the beginning?

Wherever you'd like.

Page 47.

""Pale and trembling like doves,

the three maidens entered the room.

ln the dancing firelight,

it looked even more
imposing and fantastic'' --

lt can't be.

Go on.

l can't.

Go on.

""lmposing and fantastic.

That enormous penis,

tumescent,

superb,

alive.''

Go on.

I know very little about him.

I never saw much ofhim.

The girl took care of everything.

A brunette,

pretty sexy.

l think she was a whore

or a dancer.

He only went out at night
when l was in bed.

Around midnight,
after curfew,

l'd hear him come down the stairs.

And the morning l saw him,

it was about 5:00.
l was taking out the trash.

There he is!

You're Mr. Klein, aren't you,
from the second floor?

No, l'm sorry.

l'm not your Mr. Klein.

Pardon me.

l thought you were him.

Same height, same hair,just as slim.

The same look.

Because l never saw
the other one's face.

What do you want?

l've come about the apartment.
ls it still available?

- lf you don't mind waiting a minute.
- Not at all.

We're finished.
What about the calling card?

Yes, it's right here.

Wait, l'll write down
the address for his mail.

- Does he still get mail?
- Yes, but not much.

A newspaper, a letter.

Nothing else.

So you want to move in here?

No, it's for a friend
who's coming to Paris.

- Here you are.
- Thank you.

lf you hear anything, call us.

Yes, certainly.

Good-bye.

Do you really want
to see the apartment?

The wallpaper needs changing.
lt's all moldy.

The ceiling needs painting.

The toilet bowl's got to be changed.

And you'd have to get rid of the rats.

- Rats?
- Yes, rats.

Look at this.

All over the place.

No, this is no place for you.

lf you're interested,

it's 1 50 francs a month.

Outrageous.

Plus electricity
and a maintenance fee.

He had a dog?

Yes, a German shepherd.

Sometimes he'd bark
and then whimper

as if he were being beaten.

My husband always said you could
judge a house by the bathroom,

and he was right.

Well? Haven't you seen enough?

- The shower?
- lt's out of order.

What's wrong?

l'm sorry,

but since my husband
has been gone,

l get funny.

Fvery now and then,

l have these hallucinations.

ls your husband dead?

No, he's in Germany.

Prisoner of war.

Yes, l remember.

A pretty girl and a beautiful dog.

You, on the other hand,

your face was hidden.

But you're recognizable.

Do you still have that sidecar?

No, it got blown up.

May l?

Good evening.

Who's that skeleton in your house?

What skeleton?

That whore!

What do you mean?

A girl called Janine.

A friend.

Why did l find her here?

Because you got here after her.

She was alone in the house.

Because she got here first.

ls your husband here?

Yes.

And two policemen
are waiting for you.

Good evening.

Sorry l'm late.

Listen.

They're waiting for you.

Yes, your wife told me.

- What's going on?
- Nothing. l'll explain later.

Good evening.

l have the impression
we've met before.

We have that same impression.

Did you rent that apartment
for your friend after all?

No, l haven't made up my mind yet.

We brought back your card.

Thank you very much.

l have a terrible habit
of handing them out everywhere.

- How about a drink?
- No, thank you.

But you go ahead.
We can wait.

Are we going somewhere?

The Pigalle police station.

Again?
l went there after l saw you.

l spoke to the inspector
just five minutes ago.

Pierre, please turn down
the phonograph.

Nicole, would you get me a beer?

Maybe you should call him.
That would save time.

Pigalle 30-30?

- Call him, Fran�ois.
- May l?

Go right ahead.

You bastard.

lnspector, we're here with Mr. Klein.

Yes, sir. Very well.

Who could this other Klein be?

l have no idea.

l first heard about him
yesterday at the prefecture.

Our orders came from the prefecture.

Anyway, if you hear anything --

Don't worry.
lt's in my interest.

l don't like this business.

So there's a man
who's got the same name, a Jew.

He's gone off and left you
with his problem.

How could he know about me?

Your calling cards are all over Paris.

lt doesn't make any sense.

Does he expect me
to just shut up and take his place?

lt's someone with a grudge
against me

trying to get me into trouble,
provoke me.

Why should he have
a grudge against you?

And why not?

""My love,

what interminable months!

ln two days,
it'll be ourJanuary 26th.

l'm here, waiting for you.

The train to lvry la Bataille
still leaves at 6:1 5.

You mustn't miss it, you know that?

Because this time, l swear

you'd lose me.

And that would be awful,
my darling.

Florence.''

""You mustn't miss it, you know that?

Because this time
it would be awful, my darling.

Florence.''

Do you have any baggage?

Please follow me, sir.

Good evening, Mr. Klein.

Please come in.

They're expecting you.

May l take your coat?

Please.

Good evening.

l'm Charles-Xavier,

your host.

l know, it's a complicated story.

Come with me.

lt's quieter in there.

Yes, then l can explain.

Florence, can you imagine Robert
living in Pigalle?

ln a furnished room?

Robert in Pigalle?

ln lodgings, Rue des Abbesses.

That's impossible.
lt's absurd.

This gentleman has the same name.

Really? Just like Robert?

lsn't that funny.

Please.

What was Robert doing in Pigalle?

Nothing.

l don't think he was ever there.

Then God only knows
why this letter was sent to him in Pigalle.

That's right.

There's a letter.

They're waiting for us.

Couldn't we read it after dinner?

lt's only a few lines.

We're all starving.

Yes, l see your point.

But if you knew Robert
as well as l do --

l can't accept your theory.

We can't be talking
about the same person.

Let's go in to dinner.
Will you stay?

No, thank you.
l must return to Paris.

My train leaves soon.

l don't believe there are
any more trains tonight.

No, only on odd days.

You see?
Now you have no excuse.

There must be a hotel nearby.

Requisitioned.

Don't worry. You're my guest.

Anyhow,

we did invite you
in a way, didn't we?

Come on.
Now you have no more excuses.

No, don't move.

Don't turn on the light.

Don't turn on the light.

My letter.

Would you mind giving it back to me?

Would you mind turning around?

Why?

Because l sleep in the nude.

Tell me.

Does your friend happen to beJewish?

Robert? l don't think so.

As far as l know, he's an atheist.

Yet he subscribes
to a Jewish newspaper.

That's possible.
He reads a lot.

And talks very little.

Who told you that?
On the contrary.

Then what did he tell you about me?

Nothing.

He never mentioned you.

No letter, then.

l know what Robert would say
if he were here.

First, he'd compare you
to an animal or an insect.

His theory is based on
what he calls

the infinite variety
of specialized instincts.

- How fascinating!
- lsn't it?

He claims that
in animals and insects,

this variety manifests

in a series of different species.

But in man this is not possible,

since there's only one human species.

- Therefore --
- l get the point.

The eyes are important,

the mouth,

the curve of the lips.

A feeling of being superior to others,

a love of freedom,

egoism.

A bird.

Of prey.

A falcon.

- A vulture.
- Why?

Do l eat corpses?

You don't return letters.

How about your friend?

What animal
did he choose for himself?

The eagle? The lion?

The snake.

A hibernating snake,
waiting for a better season.

l can't understand
why he got you into this mess.

So he could hide, l think.

To disappear behind another man.

Me.

No, he's no coward.

He wouldn't harm anyone.

Fxcept himself, perhaps.

Or else for revenge.
Yes, then he might.

But revenge for what?

l don't even know him.

You know what l thought
when l saw you come in?

That Robert himself had sent you.

Why?

To explain to me
why he hadn't come,

to see how l'd react,
to provoke me,

to humiliate me.

l don't understand.

Yes, as if to tell me,

""l'm sending another man in my place,
but it will be all the same to you.''

Yes, he's capable of that.

That seems a little excessive,
don't you think?

He's quite capable of that.

What if it were true?

Suppose that's why l came.

He loves that sort of situation.

So do l.

What about you?

Fven if it's really untrue?

Fspecially.

Or let's suppose --

lt's very late. l must go.

My husband must be looking for me.

We forgot to say good night.

l can't sleep when that happens.

l see you have the same problem.

Do you realize
l could go to the police?

Then you must talk.

Where is he?

l swear l don't know.

Let's start at the beginning.

Where did he live before Pigalle?

ln a hotel on the Rue de l'Universit�.

When did you learn about Pigalle?

Two months ago.

Through a messenger boy

who brought me
his flute and a note.

What did the note say?

Nothing.

Jokes, as usual.

He said he was going
into hibernation,

and l was to keep his flute
until a better season.

Where did he go into hibernation?

l don't know.

He didn't say.

Very well.

The police will find out.

And you, your husband
and every member of your musical zoo

will be called in for questioning.

Please don't do that.

l'm sorry, Florence.

But one way or another,
l must find out

what this man wants from me.

Good-bye.

lt's a shame about last night.

Just a moment.

All right.

But first, you must swear
you won't go to the police.

l swear.

1 36 Rue du Bac.

You have the present?

l didn't sleep all night.

Neither did l.
Have you got it?

You could have told me.
Some people came looking for you.

What did they want?

l don't know.

Pierre.

ls it serious?

Tell me, are the Kleins
full-blooded French,

or are thereJews in your family?

lndifference

is like a still, flat sea

surrounding a drowning man.

lt's like a flock of sheep

grazing in the ruins of a village.

Or like a worm

crawling over a putrid wound.

A man can be stingy, selfish,
hypocritical, anything --

as long as he's aware.

The result is the same.

No, not exactly.

- Have you ever heard of remorse?
- Yes.

lt's like a vulture

pierced by an arrow,

yet it continues to fly.

Oh, it's you!

What's the matter?

- Why have you come?
- To see you.

Yes, of course.
But what else?

Nostalgia...

for my roots.

l want the birth certificates
of my grandparents

on both sides.

And mine too, naturally.

Why?

l told you.

Nostalgia, curiosity.

Don't be an idiot, Robert.
Tell me why.

lt's nothing.

A formality, a routine check.

These days, the Paris police

want to prove they exist.

So a slight misunderstanding
must be cleared up.

What kind of misunderstanding?

About my identity.

What's that got to do
with your grandparents?

Your own certificate
should be enough,

or mine and your mother's
at the very most.

They want my grandparents' too
to be sure.

Sure of what?

My origins.

Well, yes.

l must prove l'm not a certain man
the police are looking for.

How long have they given you?

Two weeks.

That's quite enough.

lt all sounds very strange.

Are you sure there isn't
something more behind it?

lt's just a formality.

There's no real doubt.

So why do they want the certificates?

Because it's the law.

And also...

because there's another Robert Klein.

And apparently he's a Jew.

AJew?

lmpossible!

Or it could be the Dutch branch.

Are there Kleins in Holland?

Quite a different breed.

- But we're related.
- l tell you,

we've been French and Catholic
since Louis XlV!

Yes, miss.

Hello. Yes.

What?

No, l'm all right.

Three of the certificates
are here in Strasbourg.

But as for my maternal grandparents,

one of them was born in Marseilles.

Jules Marcel Bleard.

Yes, B-L-F-A-R-D. You got it?

And my grandmother in Algiers.

Yeah, Algeria.

- No, she wasn't an Arab.
- lmbecile!

Her father was a Communard
who was deported to Algeria.

Okay. Send someone to Algiers
and Marseilles right away.

Okay.

See you tomorrow.

That was my lawyer.

So do you know
any of those Kleins from Holland?

l've heard about them.

And this other Robert Klein?

Never.