Original subtitles

For 50 years, I've tried to share my love of movies.

To mark this anniversary with my 43rd film,

I offer you WHAT LOVE MAY BRING.

Any resemblance to people living or dead is intentional.

I dedicate these bits of fact to you and my 7 children.

WHAT LOVE MAY BRING

What's that?

A machine to recreate life.

What is it called?

The Lumière Cinematograph.

Want to try? Put your hand here...

You're as lovely as the new century.

It's a boy!

Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

I must admit that for the first time in my career,

I have stage fright.

The question I put to you is:

What will you do?

Yes, Ilva Lemoine shot and killed a man.

But let's go back in time.

From 1920 to 1930, during the "Roaring Twenties,"

my client's mother was a hooker,

porn actress, communist and single mother...

A cumbersome legacy, indeed...

So yes, she had to flee Italy with young Ilva,

and arrived in Paris in 1936.

You say you fled Italy...

But why?

Because of a man.

- A man? - Yes.

Mussolini!

Good heavens, no!

My daughter's father.

You have a daughter?

Yes, Ilva!

That's your daughter?

- She's grown up! - It's her first dance.

I'm so glad.

Her name is Ilva, like the steelworks.

So this desperate Italian woman

set her sights on a decent guy, very decent, even...

Projectionist at Eden Palace in Paris.

Ilva's mother had found the man of her life

and most of all, a father for my client.

When you asked me to dance

I was afraid you'd choose my friend.

She's not the sort of woman

I'd marry.

Oh, really?

Is this the first time anyone's proposed to you?

No, but this time,

I'm tempted to say yes.

Even if I don't know who you are.

I run this cabaret

where you often come to dance.

Even in Berlin they danced to "Stormy Weather."

Stormy weather it was.

They were dancing on a volcano.

In 1937, Horst Buchner, intellectual,

music lover, owner of the Blue Angel, had just seduced his future wife

amid a decadent crowd of homosexuals,

transvestites and brownshirts.

Now to Harlem's Cotton Club

and a key figure in this trial, Bob Kane.

This cabbie and boxer, that evening in 1940,

fought and tied with future world champ Rocky Graziano.

You'll agree that such an exploit

entitled him to dance with a famous Hollywood starlet,

who in the 50s would become an American icon.

Now the central figure of this tragedy:

Jim Singer.

He too danced to "Stormy Weather" in 1942 in NYC,

with one of his many conquests.

Jim had it all:

looks, luck, a Swiss education...

He spoke perfect French.

He was one of the world's richest men.

Not only heir to Isaac Singer,

of sewing machine fame,

but also to an oil baron.

Still, Jim was bored, so bored

he went off to play with WWII,

like a spoiled kid with a new toy.

The prosecutor made my client out to be a femme fatale.

But it was the period that was fatal.

In 1942, I too played "Stormy Weather."

I hadn't chosen between being a lawyer or a pianist.

Those blankets are ridiculous!

The neighbors will leave us alone.

They complained about your piano again this morning.

Of course! It's a Jewish piano.

Why's that?

Steinway is Jewish.

- That's not funny, Simon! - Sure it is.

No, wait...

Listen to the theme I wrote this morning.

It's very short. I'll play softly.

I promise.

This morning at the Barbès metro station,

two Wehrmacht officers were murdered in a cowardly manner.

Twenty hostages, taken at random on the platform,

will be executed tomorrow at dawn

unless the terrorists come forward by midnight.

Stay tuned, in a few moments

you will hear Marshal Pétain,

Head of State.

Well?

Not so loud.

This is Field Marshal Pétain.

Frenchmen...

Piano!

"For 5 years you've been my life,

"the air I breathe.

"I spend all my time waiting for you,

"thinking you dead if you're late,

"dying at the thought you're dead,

"living again when you come home,

"and when you're finally home,

"scared to death you'll live..."

No, "you'll leave."

What'd I say?

"You'll live."

I'll never get it.

"...the ordeals and the grief..."

It is you who bear the brunt,

for in task of reconstruction I have undertaken,

I can do nothing without you

and your dogged effort.

You gave me your trust,

every day brings its moving testimony,

which for me is the greatest comfort.

In exchange I have given you all my affection.

Salomé, I've told you not to wear wedding gowns that aren't yours.

"It's bad luck."

That's for sure!

Once I tried one on,

and ended up an old maid.

So you work on Shabbat now, too!

I don't get it: we've never done so many weddings.

As if war brought people closer.

With all these weddings,

you haven't lent me the sewing machine in three weeks!

Sorry, Madame Dubois. Be patient.

And the hours

Wouldn't feel so cold

If my arms

Had something warm to hold

Try to see his office.

And when you feel the night approach

Full of silence and shadow

You'd like to see the Lord reach out

To hold it back from falling low

Solitude, no, it doesn't scare me

When the sun

Is in my eyes

But in the dark of blackest night

I'd prefer someone by my side

Don't you want me to come?

A woman alone has a better chance.

I'll wait here.

Hello.

What do you want?

I have information about the metro attack.

Don't stand there.

My love...

For good.

The meeting must be off.

Excuse me.

Mademoiselle?

You wish to see me?

I have information about this morning's metro attack.

Where did you learn German?

At school.

I also speak Italian and English.

I hope to be an interpreter.

In other circumstances, I could hire you to work here.

Indeed.

That girl ticks me off, the one across the street

Sitting at the café terrace She thinks they're at her feet

With her dark glasses and that pouting lip...

I agreed to see you

as you had information about the terrorists.

Papa's a hostage. Please spare him.

Why should I?

He's not a Jew, a red or a rebel. Just innocent.

Like all hostages. That's the point.

Now, miss,

if you know nothing about the attack,

leave this office.

Please spare him.

He's all I've got.

Why would I do that?

For my pretty eyes?

Come-to-bed eyes, as they say?

You are

cynical.

I'll take his place.

Him or me, it's the same!

The two young officers killed in the metro

also had pretty eyes.

... whose look makes me flip

Is only my reflection In the shop window opposite

Give him this, his wife's wedding ring,

before you shoot him.

Leave,

please!

Where's your tricycle?

Over there. They made me move.

Well?

I came across the worst Nazi of all!

Want me to give it a try?

I'll go.

Stop. It's no use.

It's no use, Louis!

Come back.

A tiny village, an old bell tower

Hills lost in the grass

And in a cloud The cherished face

Of my own past

Of my own past

Since no one turned himself in

for the horrible metro attack,

at dawn the Germans executed

the twenty random hostages.

He took such care of me after Mama died.

You look so like your mother.

When did you come to France?

I was 15.

He married her then?

We needed a passport.

We were lucky to find such a wonderful man.

- Why'd you leave Italy? - Say you love me.

Say you always will.

Always, I promise.

Is this a miracle?

An officer yanked me out of the line.

Why?

I have no idea.

What's this?

Their way of asking questions.

Who are you?

This is Louis.

I mentioned him.

- The future lawyer. - I hope so.

Glad to meet you.

Despite the circumstances.

Want some coffee?

Yes... No, water.

I can't believe this miracle!

Lived here long?

- 1930. - Let me help you.

Since the talkies.

Do we have tomorrow's print?

What are you thinking when we kiss?

You know very well, so why ask?

Ilva Lemoine was my neighbor.

During the war my son and I hid in a basement.

You can't leave a 7-year-old underground all day.

So I took him to the cinema next door.

Ilva Lemoine realized

we were Jews hunted by the Gestapo.

So she took him every afternoon,

she took care of him

for the entire war.

Every day.

She saved my boy's life. I owe her everything.

And she made him a movie fan.

I can't keep him in the basement.

You and your theater are a godsend.

- It's only natural. - I'll be back later.

- Take your time. - Thank you.

We'll have kids. Have 'em adopted.

Just kidding. I wouldn't mind marrying you.

My ironing!

Funny being here with you.

Nice place you got.

Not big, tiny.

Nice to see someone you know.

You feel less lonely.

Who's this?

That's Bono...

What're you doing?

Looking for the actors.

They're not here.

Then where are they?

I'll show you.

You scared me. Don't run off like that.

He's like you:

one eye's bright, the other's a little sad.

Where're you taking me?

If you like movies, to heaven!

You live here?

Yes. Aren't I lucky?

Here.

This is my dear papa. His name's Maurice.

What's your name?

Coco.

Who's this little fella?

The little boy I hide every day.

And he wondered where the actors hid.

I'll leave him with you.

Let me show you. It's very simple.

Look.

All the actors are in that reel.

All crowded together.

When they go in front of this magic light,

they start to move and speak.

Get quietly into the cars.

Move this way...

By immediate application of the plan

decided by the Vichy government,

you are being transported

to secure work areas.

On arrival men and women

will be temporarily separated.

It'll be all right.

The young help the elderly.

Salomé?

Simon!

- What? - My bag.

Your bag is here.

Give it here.

Wait.

Here. Go to the back.

It was tough when your dad died.

Remember what he'd say:

"Cry and you cry alone.

"Laugh and the world laughs with you."

It's so vast...

Transylvania.

Leave us alone.

Thank you.

Thank you so much.

Why did you do it?

For the chance to see your eyes again.

And the others?

All I can say is,

I took a huge risk with respect to my command.

Then I was right to come.

If you can ever love a man

as much as your stepfather,

that man will be very lucky.

You play the piano?

No,

unfortunately I only play the accordina.

It's a sort of combination

of the accordion and the harmonica.

Shall I play you something?

The "Marseillaise"?

Oh, my God.

This is so...

"Yes, yes!

"The hardest thing is to hang up.

"Hello? No, let me...

"I thought you'd hung up.

"Darling,

"I knew. I expected it.

"Most women expect to live with the man they love.

"They aren't prepared for a breakup. But I knew..."

Mother, you know where we're going?

My premiere in 4 days. I have no time to lose!

In 4 days we won't be in Paris.

When we arrive, I'll call the head.

When he finds out I'm in a Cocteau play!

"Darling,

"darling,

"I have the cord around my neck.

"My beautiful darling...

"Hang up, quick. I love you!

"I love you!

"I love you! I love you!"

How, at 25, could my client know

she'd accepted the unacceptable?

How could she imagine she'd end up here in the dock?

Because I assure you, in July 1942,

she was truly in love with that German.

Madly in love.

And when I say love, I know what I'm talking about.

For I, too,

in that Nazi hell, found a bit of paradise.

What's that around your neck?

This?

I took a bad fall as a child.

My neck was injured, so my mother made it for me.

Does it hurt?

A little less, with it.

What do you do?

I'm hesitating between the piano and law.

I love this thing.

I never part with it.

What's the matter?

You only cheat on your wife. Me, on all of France.

Do you have a beau?

He studies law. We met at the Sorbonne.

What do you do besides war?

In Berlin, I run...

a cabaret.

What sort of cabaret?

The Blue Angel.

With, uh...

dancers, girls, transvestites...

Very naughty things.

You're very naughty.

How old are you?

Half your age.

So as Guitry says, you're my half...

Any idea where they're taking us?

They said, to a work camp in Germany.

But when I tell them

I'm in a play by Mr. Cocteau,

I think they'll let me go.

Germans like drama, don't they?

It will be wonderful.

What's it about?

It's...

a love story.

Who do you think will win the war?

Love...

as usual.

And I came up with a theme.

At least, I had one.

I'll try to get it back.

What's left of love, of loves gone by

What's left of blue summer skies

An old photo of times When I was young

And what's left of those rendezvous,

Of April...

What are you doing here?

I came to the last show and waited.

You slept here?

Yep.

I'm sorry, forgive me.

One night to thank him, I understand.

But the second was too much.

There'll be a third.

Wasn't he "the worst Nazi"?

I'm the worst woman.

I can't pretend. I'm sorry.

I hope for your sake Germany wins.

What're you lovers up to?

Short-term plans.

What?

Short-term plans!

I have even more reason to join the Resistance.

What next!

The Resistance...

We'll love in another life.

I think of you all the time.

Me, too. I stayed and thought of you.

Really?

- Hi. - Hello, Maurice.

How are you?

Here's the beast.

What is it?

The Murderer Lives at No. 21.

Careful, it's more powerful than usual.

To set it, turn from right to left.

You have a minute to take off. Not a second more.

Got that? Right to left, not the other way.

Or it's in your face.

What is it this time?

A munitions train from Berlin at the East Station.

Sure of your info?

We've been singing at the East Station, it all fits.

We sure keep an eye out, but...

You never kiss me like that.

I've changed a lot since we met.

By the way, Maurice...

After the metro attack, how'd you make it?

What d'you mean, make it?

Some people are wondering.

Wondering what?

19 innocents dead,

and you're alive after killing two SS.

You think I ratted on the network to save my skin?

- Not really but... - But?

We can't have more miracles like that.

It's a miracle I don't punch you out.

See you later, at the East Station.

Any change, I'll send Jeannot.

I'll come see the end tomorrow.

What?

It's for you.

Your stepdaughter's here with a German officer!

What?

She's sitting next to him, kissing him.

Where?

First row.

I'm going back down.

Give him this. It's a starfish.

He gave it to me. He'll understand.

But if he's happy, throw it in the sea.

- Papa! - Fire!

Help!

Don't stay here.

Don't stay here, Ilva!

I'll handle it. Call for help.

We'll get you help. We'll get help, mister.

Oh, my God.

8, boulevard de Strasbourg.

It's the Eden Palace. Come quick!

Please hurry!

He's dead.

What's this bomb?

What bomb?

- What bomb? - That's a timer for a bomb.

I don't know.

I don't know.

- Ilva... - I swear I don't know!

I'll have to open an investigation.

Ladies and gentlemen,

can you just imagine this girl's nightmare...

haunted all those years

about how her stepfather died?

A wrong move?

Suicide...

Because he'd seen his daughter with a German officer?

Murder...

Because the maquis was convinced Maurice had given them away?

For Ilva Lemoine there was no answer!

Ladies and gentlemen,

I'm not only asking you to judge this woman on the stand,

but a half-century of history as well.

We can't talk about this period without examples.

Because they didn't lend a sewing machine often enough,

Mrs. Blum and her girls were deported.

Now the concierge can use the machine every day.

Every day!

A piano doomed me to deportation.

Lord knows my mother tried to muffle it with blankets.

Another piano saved my life.

I played piano at the officers' mess

and escaped the gas chamber.

Since Rachmaninov had just died

I defiantly played his whole repertoire.

I was ashamed, of course.

But I played to stay alive and not go mad.

I played mainly in the hope

of seeing the girl on the train again,

knowing that if she walked in,

it would be as a whore like the others. Like me.

Why I am telling you this?

Because when Auschwitz was liberated,

I experienced the same as Ilva Lemoine.

Shame.

The shame of being alive

thanks to a piano.

The shame of not weighing only 90 lbs...

Of not being able to save the woman I loved. Salomé.

After that,

I decided to study law. No more piano for me.

After so much struggle, fury and suffering,

the decisive blow has come.

The long-awaited blow.

London calling.

Now, an important announcement:

The US expeditionary corps commander reports that

army, navy and air forces,

before dawn this morning,

launched landing operations.

Massive attack capabilities,

which for us mean rescue,

began to be deployed

from the shores

of old England.

Reconnaissance pilots say that

the Allies are heading inland.

The latest wires

regarding the Allied landing on the French coast

report that the Allies

have established bridgeheads

and that scores of paratroopers

have landed behind German lines.

The battle of France has begun.

The entire nation now has

only one

and the same aim,

only one and the same hope.

France, submerged for four years,

but not bowed or vanquished,

France is on its feet.

Whoever and wherever they are,

they have the simple and sacred duty

to fight with all the means at their disposal.

The enemy must be destroyed.

The enemy will do everything

to control our soil

as long as possible.

Everyone must be prepared

for the army's action

to be long and difficult.

Behind the heavy cloud

of our blood and tears,

we see rising again

the sun of our greatness.

From the headquarters

of the Allied expeditionary force high command

comes this bulletin:

Under Gen. Eisenhower,

the Allied navies, with powerful air support,

this morning began to land the Allied armies

on France's northern coast.

Returning to the case at hand,

to the two Americans, Jim and Bob, millionaire and boxer...

They would meet on June 6, 1944.

Jim, now war correspondent, was caught in a tree

facing a German machine gun nest.

His life hung by a string when Bob, ignoring the danger,

single-handedly saved Jim's life!

A life that weighs heavily in this story.

Leaving with no goodbye?

The Allies are 35 miles from Paris.

What about us? When and where do we meet?

In Hell, probably.

Then let's go together!

Why leave Paris? You're the victor.

Because I love you.

Taking your accordina and leaving me?

What'd I do for those eyes?

I had 19 innocents shot to save one guilty man,

your "harmless" stepfather.

I didn't know! I told you, I swear.

When I came to you I didn't know he was with the resistance!

Don't leave me!

Like you didn't know your mother was in porn films,

and died of syphilis.

I did know. I'm not ashamed!

I'm not ashamed. Go on!

Leave, you filthy Nazi!

...on the Normandy peninsula

sustained heavy losses in battles with German forces.

What's left of love...

Yes...

To our great misfortune,

we celebrated too soon.

What's left of blue summer skies

A photo

An old photo

Of when I was young

What's left of those rendezvous,

Of April days, when lovers woo

A memory

That pursues me

Endlessly

Faded pleasures, wind-tossed hair

Stolen kisses, castles in the air

What is left of all that

Can you tell me, what?

A tiny village, an old bell tower

Hills lost in the grass

And in a cloud

The cherished face

Of my own past

Of my own past

Everyone inside!

What is this circus?

Summer '44, Paris was free, but the war was far from over.

Bob and Jim, inseparable, were soon off to the Eastern front

and Hitler's remaining forces.

But that day, Gone with the Wind was the event at Eden Palace.

Jim had seen it when it came out in NY in 1940.

He was proud to show it to the man who saved his life.

And what a life!

As I said, Jim wasn't just anyone.

He was one of the world's richest men.

Thanks to a fairy tale that started in 1760 with a race.

What sort of race?

A handicap race with the poor, the rich and farmers.

The poor ran on foot,

the farmers raced their wagons, the rich their thoroughbreds.

The winner would get 250 acres in Texas.

What's left of love, of loves gone by

What's left of blue summer skies

A photo

An old photo

Of when I was young

What's left of those rendezvous,

Of April days, when lovers woo

A memory

That pursues me endlessly

Faded pleasures, wind-tossed hair

Stolen kisses, castles in the air

What is left of all that?

Can you tell me, what?

It was Jim's great-grandfather,

an Indian of 19 who won the 250 acres of desert.

A century later, the biggest oilfield in Texas was discovered.

So, ladies and gentlemen,

it is because Jim Singer is heir to this fairy tale

that the tragedy will fall into place.

Faded pleasures,

Wind-tossed hair

Stolen kisses, castles in the air

What is left of all that?

Can you tell me, what?

Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy your evening

and thank you for your patronage.

After the newsreels and intermission,

the great, long-awaited film:

Gone with the Wind.

Jerry whores

Die, you bitches!

Candy, caramels, chocolates...

Ilva Lemoine?

You're under arrest.

- Why? - Horizontal collaboration.

It's her, all right.

It's me, what, jerk?

- Come with us. - Are you nuts?

Follow us, please, miss.

Don't you touch me, or my basket!

Leave her alone.

Let me go!

- Don't touch me! - Come with us.

- Don't make a fuss. - Don't touch me!

We've shocked the Confederacy.

It's a little like blockade running.

Worse.

But I expect a fancy profit out of it.

I don't care what you expect or they think, I'll dance!

I'd dance with Lincoln himself!

It'd be a shame to cut that hair.

How can I thank you?

Make us your bodyguards?

Good idea.

Let's meet at the end.

You do waltz divinely, Captain Butler.

Don't start flirting with me. I'm not one of your plantation beaux.

I want more than flirting from you.

..."I love you."

That's something you'll never hear from me.

Any room back there?

Always for you, dearie.

It's quieter back there.

When the war ends.

We're not in Berlin yet.

Say that again.

I'm a war correspondent,

he's a paratrooper.

With my connections, I got him assigned to me.

Peace.

It's funny, because...

my mother and stepfather met to this song.

It was in 1936.

I was nearly proposed to to this melody.

How can you be "nearly" proposed to?

Ask without asking, insinuate.

I'd like to...

What'd you reply?

Since it wasn't a real question, I didn't really answer.

Why's your French so good?

Like most rich kids,

I went to school in Switzerland.

What do you do in life?

Photographer, of war...

and fashion in peacetime.

They say photographers

watch life instead of living it.

Well, I'm watching you,

and the more I do,

the more I know why I'm in this war.

It's true.

Yes, you'll have to.

By telling you all this,

I realize I might harm my client.

But we're not here to judge her licentiousness.

Just the precise facts.

Two handsome, brave, intelligent men

saved Ilva from lynching and disgrace.

Ilva Lemoine's only real crime

might be falling in love too fast.

But for someone who puts love above all else,

is it really a crime?

The Bois de Boulogne.

Thanks to Marcel Cerdan

the Vel d'Hiv reverted to sports after the Jewish roundup.

But for Ilva, it wasn't Cerdan boxing:

It was Bob against Jim.

Who would she choose to follow to the US?

The war wasn't over yet.

Bob and Jim were off to the Eastern front.

It was a debacle in the death camps.

The Germans erased the traces.

They sent survivors on the road to die of cold and fatigue.

In the hospital trains bringing back survivors

I never found my mother or Salomé.

Well?

With troops this side of the Rhine,

we could still win.

That would be collective suicide.

Like at Stalingrad and in Normandy.

Never mind that, we must do battle.

Maybe you want to die, but not me.

Patton's troops are arriving!

To your posts!

Yes, sir?

What's that machine worth?

Who are you?

Someone who knows its price.

Meaning?

You never saw the Blums again?

That a no-yes or a no-no?

I can't see out of my left eye.

I feel like I've lost an arm.

Are you ready?

Yes!

- Is that yes-yes or yes-no? - Yes, beans!

We have to talk.

Is there a problem?

You have to find a place to live.

Why's that?

There's an offer to make Eden Palace a garage.

You can't throw me out.

Any news of your Americans?

They must be mad I flipped a coin.

What d'you expect?

Ilva!

Where's Bob?

- What is it, sir? - I'll study law.

Aren't we happy together?

You sure?

Don't you like our life?

You like it?

Got to. I'm used to it.

Think I could work in the US as an interpreter?

You could be my interpreter.

You need an interpreter?

Especially at night.

What's that supposed to mean?

Just what you think.

So you want to kiss me?

May I?

Atmosphere, atmosphere! Do I look like an atmosphere?

So Ilva married the ideal man.

She went to the US to live a dream.

Like in a Technicolor movie.

For her, Europe in B&W was a thing of the past.

But fate, like a certain postman, always rings twice.

You're the greatest.

If we have a son, we'll call him Bob.

Promise?

Why don't you carry me like in the movies?

- Come here. - That's more like it.

I've never seen you so sad.

Bob's on my mind.

He should be in my place.

No, it's not him.

Fate decided. And fate is always right.

- You believe in God, do you? - Well, yeah.

What's that doing here?

My usher's cap.

Your wedding gift.

You bought my usher's cap?

With the theater.

You bought me Eden Palace?

You bought me Eden Palace?

You bought me Eden Palace. You're completely nuts!

Know what Papa used to say?

That life's best years are the ones to come.

I think he was absolutely right.

- Mr. Singer. - I agree, Mrs. Singer.

They say my client is a poisoner.

I say, let's be serious.

The arsenic found in her husband's body

was introduced after his death.

Arsenic was in all the fertilizer spread over the cemetery.

Rainwater did the rest.

Disinter all the bodies in the cemetery.

You'll find they all contain arsenic.

From 1946 to the 1960s,

I was so happy to ply my trade,

defending people whose life hung by a string.

It's my client's life that was poisoned

by rumor, gossip and jealousy.

I'll take yours instead.

Why?

You never know.

After two world wars and 50 million dead,

I could best appraise a human life.

I celebrated acquittals at the Black & White,

where music slipped back into my life.

While in NY, Ilva Lemoine, now Mrs. Singer,

used her marriage to forget

the dramas that made her leave France.

I had such a nightmare.

I know.

You've been having them.

What time is it?

5 o'clock. In the afternoon.

When'd you start smoking again?

Since you started drinking.

I'm going back to Paris.

Don't blame me for nightmares.

You know what?

Let's pretend we understand.

Understand what?

You can't live with doubt.

- And constant nightmares. - What do you know?

Same as you.

Know what nightmares are?

The mind's trashcan.

I don't get it.

I don't love you anymore.

And I miss France.

I'll come with you to France.

I don't want you to.

That girl ticks me off, the one across the street

Sitting at the café terrace She thinks they're at her feet

With her dark glasses and that pouting lip

She thinks she's a star, isn't she a pip!

Who's she think she is? Just look at her.

She's no star. I know a star when I see one.

Broads like that are legion, they always come into view

Even if you ignore them, they always pop up on you

This one's got quite an act, but if she keeps on that way

I'll cross the street and she'll regret the day

I'll tell ya, she'll regret it

You bet I'll cross the street!

And I don't like the way she eyes me with scorn

But she may have good reason to mourn

Cause this untidy girl whose look makes me flip

Is only my reflection In the shop window opposite!

Why would we know?

You were the last to see him alive.

The doubt is unbearable.

What doubt?

I don't know if it was an accident or suicide.

Why would he have committed suicide?

Because he'd found out I loved a German.

The bomb in the theater was no accident.

What was it, then?

What was it?

Don't leave like this. Tell me.

What was it?

A time bomb.

I don't get it.

The network thought Maurice saved his skin in '42

by betraying the Resistance.

I had to leave the bomb.

I'm sorry, he was my friend.

Is that why you got a medal?

For killing my father?

But your German is alive and well.

What?

How do you know?

I shot this in Moscow at Mosfilm Studios,

on the set of The Cranes Are Flying

and I've always wondered who plays the lead role:

the actor or the camera?

Remember Ilva? From the theater?

How you've grown! You're so handsome.

You've changed, too.

- Have I grown? - You've changed.

- I have grown. - Okay.

What're you showing?

The film I went to shoot in Moscow.

So you make films now!

In Moscow.

You filmed in Moscow?

It's quite a story because

I hid my camera under my raincoat.

Smarty.

You going professional?

I'm doing my best to.

You'll make it.

How'd he get into Russia?

He joined the Communist Party and went as a tourist.

You must've been scared!

What about America?

Sure you have an appointment with Mr. Berger?

I see nothing on his calendar.

Absolutely sure.

What're you doing here?

I wanted to see you.

Please, go in my office.

Nice office, nice secretary.

She's my wife.

We have two children.

A boy and a girl.

Congratulations.

Total success.

Yes, a total success.

And you? America?

I read the papers, too.

Total failure.

I've always loved too fast.

That's the recap. Why are you here?

Since the man is married,

I came to see the lawyer. For a divorce.

I'm not the right lawyer.

Why not?

Perhaps I loved you too much.

And me, not enough?

You'll need an ace against that rich Yank.

Any ideas?

I know a hot one when he's not playing piano.

Isn't life odd?

I could say it's stupid...

I don't know the word.

You bought back Eden Palace.

You might say that.

You live where?

At Eden Palace.

Always the dumb question.

In any event,

you're still pretty.

I'll have to get used to the moustache.

Sorry.

It's...

my wife likes it.

I'll be off.

Maybe we'll meet in another life.

That sounds familiar.

You want the pianist's number, or doesn't it matter?

Yes, give me his number.

Does he come often?

When he gets an acquittal.

Staying in Paris?

I don't know.

Is it chance or a surprise?

- Which do you prefer? - Either way.

Me, too.

Excuse me.

Can you give me 5 minutes?

5 minutes?

3 will do.

- Give me 2 minutes? - Sure.

Thank you.

Come on, then.

It's too crowded there.

Mind if we sit on the steps?

Like in my youth.

Go on.

Well?

Do I call you Counselor or Maestro?

Just call me Simon.

Nice to meet you.

- Likewise. - Ilva.

So you're a lawyer.

It's not obvious this evening, but I'm a lawyer.

I happen to need a lawyer.

I'm told you're the best.

What crime have you committed?

I got married.

Love's perfect crime.

It's pretty close.

But no murder yet?

What do you hold against him?

His nightmares.

That's interesting.

Really?

Love's a long journey.

The return can cost more than one way.

I don't get it.

A personal souvenir.

I love that song.

It's funny. That tune's followed me all my life.

I danced a slow to it

when my mother and stepfather met.

- Really? - Just...

in 1936.

Well?

I don't do divorces.

Kill him first, then come see me.

All right.

The young lady's getting impatient,

and I'd hate not to spend the night with her.

Can I ask one more question?

What's...

This?

When I was little,

I took a bad fall.

I spent my whole childhood

and my whole adolescence shut in.

A little thanks to that.

My mother finally made it for me

so I wouldn't be in such pain.

Believe it or not,

but maybe if I hadn't fallen, I wouldn't play piano.

Why not?

Or even the trumpet.

Why?

Well, because...

people's stares scared me,

and my piano reassured me.

I'm coming.

Just a minute.

What are you doing here?

I came for you.

Jim,

it's over.

I've told you 20 times,

I can't live with doubt.

You can't blame nightmares on me.

How could I kill a man who saved my life?

Out of love.

Or pride, I don't know.

The question is an admission.

If you think that, here. Go on, kill me.

What is this, Jim?

I just want to part amicably.

If you think I killed Bob, do it.

I don't have the courage.

Stop it!

Stop!

I can't take any more!

Leave me alone.

It's not loaded anyway.

This is not good.

It's not good.

So how did Jim Singer die, you'll ask?

Murder has often

been disguised as suicide.

But suicide disguised as murder?

Yet that was Jim Singer's last Machiavellian move

to bring down the one he'd already lost.

Yes, he took his life

because he could no longer bear having murdered Bob Kane,

his rival for Ilva Lemoine's heart.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,

I'll ask you once more:

What will you do?

What will you decide?

Your defense plea was dazzling.

I hope I enlightened them, instead.

I should have sung the Brassens song:

"The Two Uncles".

Know it?

I had an Uncle Martin and an Uncle Gaston

One loved the Tommies, one the Huns

For love of country, both went off and died

Me, I loved no one, and I'm still alive

And now, dear uncles, memories have faded

And both your war widows have since remated

Repolished, we see in skies over Verdun

The tarnished stars of Marshal Pétain

Now your controversies have subsided

The noose between you equally divided

Now that John Bull snubs us once more

And we've ended our German quarrels of yore

Now your sons and daughters walk hand in hand

Making love, making Europe their future plan

They care for your battles to the same degree

That they care for the wars of ancient history

Now, dear uncles, we can confess in unison

You friend of the Tommies, you friend of the Huns

As for your truths and counter-truths,

No one really gives a hoot

Forgive me, I think I'm going mad.

It's normal.

It's normal before a verdict.

Try to calm down.

It'll be all right.

They've been in session for two hours.

That's a good sign.

You sure?

As you said in your defense,

"chaos can be so fertile..."

Without all the dead,

how would I have met you?

Do you honestly feel you could love again?

Time to go in.

Be brave.

I'll meet you in the courtroom,

and everything will be fine.

Be brave, Ilva.

Stand up.

Go on.

Look, the sun is shining.

The sun's on our side.

See you in a minute.

Isn’t this like in a movie?

Your dad a cameraman, mine a projectionist.

What do you expect?

You're making me dizzy.

This is maddening!

You want to shoot a musical?

Then come on.

Come, Ilva.

I have an idea.

Wait, guys.

- Can you sing? - Like a frog.

I don't buy that. Everyone can sing.

There's nothing easier. Sit.

Do just like I do.

We'll improvise something.

Where's the cameraman?

Go on.

It looks like fair skies ahead

Despite the stormy weather

A new horizon lies ahead

Let's go away together

Now you.

Setting sail with you

Seems to me unwise

It's a little premature

I fear we may capsize

I can't believe you said so

You wild little thing

My love has no echo

And that's quite a sting

Try the refrain.

Those years, it's true,

- Were one long... - ... nightmare

Nightmare

But now with a mere smile

We're off to a new start

All that romance

Was like a game of chance

Stakes were high, time flew by

But hope was our winning hand

Your number is quite absurd

Now please clear the stage

For I'm not the kind of bird

You can put into a cage

Did anyone mention chains

Or taking someone hostage

Only one word pertains

And that is "marriage"...

Marriage

Come on, band!

Back me up!

In that case, count me in I won't bother to pack

Yes!

It looks like fair weather Even if clouds come back

Those years, it's true

On our memories left a scar

But now with a mere smile

Life gives us a new start

All that romance

Was like a game of chance

Stakes were high, time flew by

But hope was our winning hand

Everybody sing!

Sing, Ilva.

Sing.

I hope one day you'll film real actors.

That kiss may explain why, for the next 50 years,

I filmed so many love stories.

Mother,

I just left the courthouse.

I'll debrief my client

and hop in a cab.

Me too, Mother.

See you shortly.

Can I drop you off?

I'm going into the suburbs. It's a bit far.

I'm off to a studio

where my brother is taping his first film score.

After that dazzling defense...

My father said it's better to enlighten than dazzle.

The check, please.

Another coffee, please.

The check, another coffee and a beer, please.

- A beer. - After such tension a beer's...

- Your brother's a musician? - Right. Actually,

we shared Daddy's genes:

I became a lawyer, he a musician.

He's recording a film score?

- His first. - What's the film?

It's...

You don't know.

Sure I do.

Especially since it's my mother's story:

The loves of an usher at Eden Palace.

And your father?

In 1982, they had

the wild idea to celebrate their anniversary at Goldenberg's,

the day of the bomb.

My mother lost her sight, my father died.

The bill, two beers and two vodkas, please.

It's not sad, it's life.

It was long ago.

I'm sorry. But...

back to business, do you think I have a chance with the judge?

I wouldn't want to venture an opinion, but I must say

that when she told your soon-to-be ex-wife

that divorce wasn't life insurance

I figured we were ahead.

Are you married?

I've handled too many divorces.

Know why I chose you?

No idea?

Because I'm the best?

Not only.

My fees are high?

Not only.

To throw money around?

Partly, but also...

What I'm about to say might seem silly.

- I even hesitate. - Go on.

I think we've met before.

I really feel... It rarely happens...

That we met in a former life. It's dumb, but...

Worse than dumb!

- Don't pull that one. - It's not dumb.

I think we have several lives.

One to learn, another to live.

Charming, you charmer!

After a divorce, a day in the suburbs...

It'll be beautiful.

How old is your mother?

Subtitles: Cynthia Schoch - Lenny Borger