All language subtitles for The.Judge.and.the.Assassin.1976.FRA.1080p.BluRay.REMUX.AVC.DTS-HD.MA.2.0-Asmo_track4_[eng]

I was still in Paris,

working for the
Justice department.

I was bored.

Bouvier has started
His bloody career.

It was 1893,

and 5 years would pass

before I met him.

Lourdes, May 28, 1893

Louise, dear Louise,

I wanted to visit our
Mother of God again,

that balm for our
bodies and souls.

But I didn't take
a tourist train,

my wallet bulging with cash.

I prayed for myself, my
parents and my friends.

Lourdes is surrounded
by mountains

which are now covered with snow.

At the top of one
of the highest,

I wrote on its white blanket,

"Hail Mary Mother of God,

watch over Louise and me.

Keep her as white as this snow."

Louise, I must tell you
I'm no longer a soldier.

They said I was studying
too hard for my exams.

And that I should rest.

But I know that my
weariness is due to

not seeing you for
such a long time.

The Judge and the Murderer.

You shouldn't have
come, Mr. Bouvier.

- It's been so long.
- You know you shouldn't have.

I thought you'd left.

Is that what you wanted?

Yes. I don't want to hurt you.

You never hurt me.

I love you too much.

Wait! Look! This is for you.

A gold watch!

I sold my land for 150 francs.

You shouldn't have.

Why would you give
me such a nice present?

To make you happy.

But I won't marry you.

Why?

Why?

Not here!

Where, then?

No where!

- Vicious man!
- I hate dogs!

- What did he do?
- Bit me!

In this Godless school
full of freemasons,

what book do they
award as prizes?

The list is edifying:

Jean-Baptiste Clement's
songs for the Commune,

The insurgent by Jules
Valles, Zola's novels,

Les Miserables by Victor Hugo.

Are books like this how
we educate our youth?

' Say no!

A Godless school is
a school against God.

It leaves the open to scandals.

The Increase in crime

committed by young people
from these schools is the proof.

My brothers, we must fight

and fight we will.

- The men come after.
- I want Jesus right now!

Body of Christ.

Now we're joined. We've
taken Communion together.

Do you like that, Louise?

Answer me.

Answer me, for God's sake!

She won't be back now.

Maids always get Sundays off.

You have to convince
your Louise to marry me.

I'm educated. I was a sergeant.

I don't know what
you have against me.

I'm sympathetic, Mr. Bouvier.

But she is not.

You should forget about her.

Can I have some more coffee?

It's good. My sister
made it this morning.

What do I care if she
makes good coffee?

Are you hungry? There
is a fresh pancake.

She has to give back
my letters, photograph

and the money I gave
her to get a picture taken.

Where are the letters? Not here.

Then at her boss's house.

Dirty exploiters!

I don't know.

- How old is Francine?
- 16.

You've made me miss my train.

The next one's tomorrow morning.

Can I sleep here?

It is not convenient.
Can't you stay at the hotel?

I could, but I don't
want to be alone.

There's a bed in the stable.

You owe me at least that.

Mrs. Lesueur! Can you hear me?

What is it? Not feeling well?

I'm fine. It's like
having a family.

The barracks is full of men.

I'd like a woman.

But I don't like a prostitute.

I want a nice girl, like Louise.

Let us sleep. We
have to work tomorrow.

I know I'm ridiculous and
seem sad and pensive,

but that's because of my
time spent with the monks.

Now I'm through with
monks. I spit on them.

If you won't give me
Louise, give me her sister.

What's it to you?

Leave us in peace.
You're raving.

Francine is pretty,
too. Give her to me.

She'll be happy.

I don't want to be alone.

Here are your letters
and your pictures.

I'll give you the money
at the end of the month.

They're beautiful letters.

You don't often
see writing like that.

You won't get letters
like this again soon.

I know.

Louise Lesueur isn't worthy of

Joseph Bouvier's letters.

So you thought about it?

You don't want to marry me?

No.

Louise! Better now than later.

"In heaven...

I'll see her one day."

Be quiet! There
are sick people here.

It's good for them.

Fine, but quiet down.

I'll need to take my
virgin Mary statue.

You love virgin?

I even went to Lourdes.

That's why the Mother of
God spared my life and Louise's

"citizens, let us punish
the crimes of evil priest.

Only pity the victims,
transformed by faith into idiots."

Watch it, I have two
bullets in my head.

I'm going to an
asylum, not a jail.

Music is my therapy.

I'll pray for you. Mr. Bouvier.

Well, you don't have
anything else to do.

“To the polls, citizens!

Against the clergy.

Let us vote.

And let our voices
chase away the priests."

No! I don't want you
to operate on me!

Murderers! Butchers
of Christians!

- Chloroform.
- No! Not chloroform!

You're trying to
kill me, not cure me!

Capitalist pigs! Anarchy!

You kill your
patients! Executioner!

I've had enough!
Get him out of here!

I can't wait to get rid of him.

I hope he dies
from those bullets!

I'm glad to be out of
that extermination clinic

set up to kill the poor.

Doctors are capitalists
who exploit the workers.

Cut off their heads!

Anarchy and socialism!

Catch him!

Don't let him go!

Be quiet! Silence!

Took off heads off again?

Everyone! Everyone

I'd like to wish you
a Merry Christmas

and tell you a good news that
our troops have taken Timbuktu.

Sir.

Let him speak.

When I arrived at this modern
asylum with its electric lights.

Instead of the butchers I saw
tending the innocent patients at Dole,

Men were tending them.

When I got out of
the filthy Dole asylum,

I wanted to see
blood flow everywhere.

If I sometimes
shouted, "Anarchy,".

It was because of the
injustice I saw committed

against those poor,
starving wretches.

I ate my crust of
bread only to stay alive.

If whenever something
bad happened to someone,

they were treated like I was...

Be quiet!

If these people were
treated like I was treated,

too much blood would be shed.

Dr. Dutourd, with your humanity,

you should be running France
rather than a lunatic asylum.

That is even
more to your credit.

Thank you Bouvier.

Thanks. Let's go and
make the Colossus weep.

They gave me flat bread,
bacon and pork rind.

You could have
kept me until Easter.

With Christmas, I could
have had 2 holidays.

You know that neither the army
nor that state is paying for you.

An asylum is not
a charity hospital.

So you won't operate?

You're fine.

I would have been brave.

I know, I know. Bouvier!

Are you sure I'm
cured, at least?

If we can't cure temporary
insanity in 3 months,

then there is no hope
for modern medicine.

I hope you're right.

Wait.

Here is St. Regis
medal, our local saint.

Could be useful.

Here is a fish!

Oh, yeah, it's April Fool's Day.

You have one, too.

I'll keep it as a souvenir.

We fed you! What
else do you want?

He plays badly-

I play better than that.
- I'm sure you do.

Let me stay.

I could play the
harmonium or be a servant.

Not for the outdoor
work, because of the sun.

It hurts my head and
makes me feel drunk.

I said no!

I was here for 2 years.

I behaved myself, wore
the gown, went to catechism.

- Never, after what happened.
- You owe me that.

My evil ideas come from here.

Be quite, Bouvier!

The good lord knows

that I was raped
here when I was 16.

Tell me you know that!

Tell me!

No answer!

I wouldn't be surprised
if he weren't here.

All you do is excommunicate
people who demonstrate on May 1.

Rich peoples' priest!

Marriet's two sisters were

fired from the factory
where they worked.

And the murderer
is still at large.

There are a lot of
murderers at large.

This one gets
around, Counsellor.

You know him?

Let's follow his trail.

Ready, Mother?

- Here I am.
- Let's begin.

October 20, 1894 in La Vaquiere,

a 13-year-old girl with
a gaping chest wound,

both breast cut off,
abdominal wounds, sodomy.

Sit down, Mother.

May 1895 in Etaule, a
15-year-old shepherdess,

eviscerated, raped
and throat cut.

August 1895 in Benonces,
a 16-year-old shepherd...

Throat cut, testicles
bitten off, sodomized,

evidence of earlier
sodomy, probably his boss.

September 1895 in
Busset, an 18-year-old girl,

gaping chest would,
eviscerated with billhook.

In St. Marcel du Bon Acceuil.

That's near here.

On December 14,
1895, a 13-year-old boy,

eviscerated and sodomy.

Hang on, Mother.

Next to the body they found

a piece of paper with
the letters M A R C on it.

The police arrested
an old wrestler

named Marseille. Know why?

Why?

They said it was the
first 4 letters of his name.

They found human flesh
spattered on his jacket.

Turned out to be cod!

They let him go?

After 6 months in
a lunatic asylum.

Next, Mother.

March 13, a shepherdess
eviscerated near Lourdes.

Oh dear! Worse than the others?

No, But Lourdes!

They never found her shoes.

July 8, 1896, 2 months
before you got here,

in St. Etienne de
Boulogne, a young girl

strangled and sodomized.

Finally.

What do you mean?

Don't you want him to come
back to your jurisdiction?

What do you mean?

Don't you want him to come
back to your jurisdiction?

Yes.

And it is happening
as I thought it would.

Except they arrested
an innocent man.

I immediately
knew it wasn't him.

He didn't look like my killer.

I drew his portrait in pencil.

Not a sketch,
but a real portrait.

I carefully examined
all the recent crimes

that seemed related.

I found that witnesses
hundreds of miles from each other

described the same man.

This man!

Looks like a tramp.

I'm sure that's him.

You think this man
committed the crimes?

I'm convinced of it!

Whether he exists
or not, here he is.

You've invented him.
Why are you on the bench?

What?

Buy some canvas and
brushes and paint portraits!

Sorry, Emil. You're
a judge of the future.

This hare you've flushed out
will get you decorated in Paris.

Don't joke about it.
I want your opinion.

Does my work serve
a useful purpose?

I so enjoyed listening to
you that I didn't think about it.

What pretty roses! Come in.

Thank you.

Oh, quails!

With herbs. Our specialty.

- One of our enemies writes...
- Zola?

No, Mirabeau.

Even worse.

He has some interesting
ideas on murder.

- May I?
- Of course, sorry.

He thinks that we're
all potential murderers.

We channel our murderous
tendencies into legal enterprise

industry, colonial trade,
war, anti-Semitism.

I chose anti-Semitism
because it's safe,

fashionable and
approved by the church.

What a lovely bouquet!

Your houseboy brought
it. He seems nice.

I'm afraid he'll
leave or get married.

Same with maids. You train them,
they leave and their husbands benefit.

Sit down.

A colored man won't find it
easy to find a wife around here.

I hope not. I couldn't
do without him.

How long have you had him?

A year after I arrived in Saigon,
I had his brother executed.

Since the boy was still
a minor, he got 5 years.

An easy sentence, since
he worked as my cook.

Weren't you afraid
he'd poison you?

I had him converted to
Christianity, get baptized,

take first communion. A
very moving ceremony.

Every Saturday he
went to confession

and the priest
kept me up-to-date.

When I had to quit my post

and leave Cochin China,

I knew I'd miss him
and brought him with me.

I hope he'll help me adapt.

Maybe the atmosphere
of the Motherland...

I'm too old to go
live with my mother.

It's late, Emil. Don't
make Rose wait today.

I'm finished. Want to hear it?

Sit down.

Urgent. Based on
the proceedings etc...

We authorize our
colleague in X to hunt for a

suspect matching the
following description:

About 40 years old, medium
height, black hair and black beard,

scar on left upper lip,

red-rimmed eyes.

Has an unpleasant demeanor.

Sometimes wears wooden shoes.

That's new.

From a policeman's deposition.

Here it is.

He carries a cloth
bag and an accordion.

He usually eats soup and bread,

occasionally wine and milk.

Looks for work as a shepherd.

Claims to be an invalid.

Speaks French and 2 dialects.

Notify me if found.

I'm sending it to all the
prosecutors in France.

If my colleagues do their
jobs, we have a chance.

It seems simple.

But it'll shake their routines.

- I'm proud of you.
- I'm taking a risk.

I'll come under fire.

You're used to it.

Here's the list.

There are 250 envelopes to
address. I hate to ask you this.

I have nothing else to do.

I'll start after breakfast.
Hurry, you will be late.

You didn't change
your shirt? It's still clean.

It's true you never get dirty.

Here's my birthday
present for Rose.

Cherries in brandy
like last year.

- Careful not to spill them.
- OK.

- You don't mind?
- No, why?

A judge with a jar of cherries!

I'll take the quiet streets.

- Wait.
- Thanks, Mother. Good-bye.

- Hello, Mr. Sellier.
- Hello, Suzanne.

Suzanne! I told you
not to talk to just anyone.

Behave yourself. It's dangerous.

One day, a man
with a black beard

will jump the fence and
cut you up with his knife

from stem to sternum.

That makes you laugh?

- Did you see a doctor?
- Yes.

- What did he say?
- It's not serious.

- Are you still in pain?
- Yes.

- Hello, Godfather.
- Hello. Hello, Victor.

What are you reading?

The death of Robespierre.

Who was Robespierre?

Bloodthirsty monster who
terrorized by the guillotine.

Good.

Shot to death by a
policeman named Merda.

- Victor!
- It's in the book!

Some historians say
Meda, others say Merda.

Either way, he's
a brave policeman

who rid France of one
of its biggest criminals.

Remember him.

- It's easy to remember.
- I think so.

Here, take 3 sous.

Go get us a cake
for Rose's birthday.

Anything you want
except rum baba.

- I love those!
- I know.

But no alcohol in
the house! Go on!

Mother gave me some
cherries in brandy for you.

- I threw it away.
- Why?

I don't like Mother's
cherries in brandy.

How was it today?

We were at the
hospital all the afternoon.

- Was she afraid?
- No.

She seems to like the doctor.

He's suspicious, a freemason.

They say he has
relations with his patients.

He asked me some
strange questions.

Like whether she like men.

What did you say?

That she threw kisses
through the fences.

She is naturally affectionate.

He wants to take her into care.

But you care for her here.

I hope you don't regret
leaving the factory.

I had lots of friends.

Factory workers!

Meaning whores.

Meaning workers who
put in 12 hours a day,

7 days a week
for 2 francs a day.

It was time I got
you out of there.

I'll leave you some money.

Put it on the table.

Stay if you want
to. It's not our day.

- Tonight I could...
- I have to work.

The doctor said it
might not be nightmare.

Then what is it?

I'll be right back.

Only a very corrupt man could
get excited by an innocent girl.

Do you want me to stay?

If you like.

Louise, dear Louise,

so much has happened
since our unfortunate incident.

Like me, you had to
endure many ups and downs.

But we should
still be happy that

Providence has
miraculously saved us both!

Providence, that watches
over the smallest birds,

couldn't help protecting
two naive people.

Neither their parents
nor society gave them

the moral and material
support needed in life.

"God, Law, Duty.

Among great travellers,

there are many
true friends of God."

Seen a man like you, sergeant?

I've never seen a man like me.

What's a man like me?

A shepherdess was
killed probably by a hobo.

It might have been a
rich man. Look higher.

Anything is possible.
Here's your service record.

Do you miss the service?

I learned to march
there. The army!

Louise...

Louise

I've been gone more
than 3 years now.

And if I must live in exile,

at least God has
made it a free one.

Two years ago, in a pair
of cheap rubber boots,

I travelled through all
the provinces of Brittany

and all the provinces
of Normandy,

big, rich provinces with
good cider as in Brittany.

There and in the
provinces of Maine,

people are very
religious and considerate.

In Beauce and Brie,

people treat those poorer
than them with contempt.

All I have is soup.

It's poor folks' food.

They are the generous ones.

I write to my
fiancee every week.

How could she write you back?

She doesn't write me back.

Here's money for
the milk and soup.

You're poorer than me.
Pay me with prayers.

God doesn't need prayers!

Do you have contraband matches?

I leave that to
the small timers.

It's too heavy.

Don't touch!

Don't talk like that to
Jesus Christ, son of God.

This water is no good.

Even the dog won't drink it.

But it's too good for
you, you little whores!

Only rich men will have
your cute little asses

but Bouvier, no way!

Get out of here!

Get out of here!

Louise, I find that in
Brittany and Savoie

they are more religious and less
hypocritical than around Lourdes.

I'm not the first great
traveller to notice it.

Louise, may I ask you
to write me back soon

and tell me if I should
give up on you forever?

Only then will I resign myself.

Bouvier, Joseph.

Antoine!

Stop him!

Thank you, angel of mercy.

"My love, we were unlucky.

There was a war
and we were young.

The winter of '70 was
filled with suffering.

It only got worse
come spring time.

Lilacs will cover the
highlands of Belleville.

The slopes of Montmartre
and the Meudon woods.

We'll go pick them
in happier times.

We're fighting for the
Commune and we'll win."

Butchers of Christians!

Sowers of death!

Bourgeois pigs!

I am the anarchist of God!

Your Honor, we can't
find work because of you.

We have a bad reputation.

I let you go.

It's not enough.

Everyone saw us in handcuffs
escorted by the police.

We just want a paper saying
we're innocent of murder.

I can't give you that.

Please leave. You're in the way.

You brought us here,
so you're responsible.

He may be right, the poor devil.

We're overrun by tramps.

I know. I know I'm
bothering everyone.

I'm making my colleagues work

and open files.

I won't let them sweep
them under the rug.

I wonder if it's a good
idea to transform Privas

into thieves den with
the election so close.

The opposition is
having a field day

with the strikes,
anarchist attacks,

factory closings,

suicides due to poverty.

I know.

I'm becoming a public menace.

Hurry up girls.

CHARITY SOUP KITCHEN

- We'll stuff our faces.
- We sure will.

Haven't you left yet?

We're waiting for our
friends to be released.

We'll give some soup,
but first, you have to sign.

What is it?

A petition against
the traitor Dreyfus.

We don't know how to write.

Then no soup.

Bitch!

This is a joke!

There is a hobo!
Another one! Hey hobo!

You're arriving and
we're leaving. That's life.

All we do here is
go in and go out.

The republic is
less than nothing!

The government is
run by crooks and priest!

Viva Anarchy!

Our time has come.

Hurry up, officers.

No, I like it.

Leave it on.

Sit down.

It's hot in here.

Sign of innocence!

Do your eyes hurt?

I hate the sun.

What about on the road?

It hurts.

Police, remove the sun.

Stop pacing! You're
making me dizzy.

It's been 3 weeks. Show
him to the witnesses.

Mother!

There is nothing
stupider than a witness,

nothing more ignorant
and narrow-minded.

Even if they identify
him, I won't believe it.

Anyway, I want him to admit it.

Are you tired, Mother. No, stay.

You can't keep him
forever. It's up to me.

He's a vagrant without a lawyer.

I need to find something,

an idea, a way to make him talk.

I need a confession
before I charge him.

You have a wonderful job.

Manhunting...

My life-long dream.

This could be as big
as the Dreyfus Affair.

Bouvier, time for you to go.

One more tramp with
no reason to be here.

I hope you have no bad feelings.

You're the only one who's been
honest and considerate with me.

You don't often see hobos
who are former sergeants

and who can read and write.

I'd like to see
what you've seen.

I'll tell you a secret.

Bouvier, I'm
fascinated by hobos.

Strange idea!

Why? It's in the news.

Read this: 400.000
hobos in France.

I couldn't read it
because I'm in jail.

You read The Lyons Republican?

Freedom is being
able to read the paper.

Especially articles
about perverted priests.

Down with the clergy!

I'll show you something
that might interest you.

Every time a hobo ends
up here, I interrogate him.

We talk, of course.

This is 4 years' work.

What's it for?

For a book

I'm going to write about

what a poet once
called drifters.

Could you help me Bouvier?

When you meet someone
on the road, do you say.

"Is this the road?"

This is the road, comrade!

It has a kind of
noble beauty to it.

It's just a habit.

I compare tramps
to migratory birds,

moving with the seasons.

In September you head south

for free vacation
on the Riviera.

Judges can't afford the
South of France in winter.

I go in winter and summer.

Do you know Nice?

Yes, and Menton. I went to
see my sister two years ago.

She's a whore.
I didn't stay long.

She couldn't bear the light
burden providence had given her.

Have you been to Lourdes?

You're good!

No, I saw that your
walking stick was

carved with “Maria Lourdes...

At first I thought it
was your mistress.

No, Maria is the Virgin Mary.

She lives in Lourdes
and anywhere she wants.

You're very devoted
to the Virgin?

She is the saint of
those who have nothing.

The patron saint of tramps?

No. They don't have religion.

I have personal reasons to
worship her and go on pilgrimage.

On the train?

After what she did? No, on foot.

I started right at
the top of your map

in Beauvais, in September.

From Beauvais to Lourdes...

even as the crow
flies, is quite a trek!

I didn't go that way.

I think this is the way.

I can really read a map.

Oops, I broke it.
Doesn't matter.

So you went through Benonces?

Yes, Benonces and beyond.

Six murders took
place along this route.

La Vaquiere, Benonces, Busset,

St. Martin du Bon Accueil,
St. Flours and Lourdes,

Where in March you killed
a girl near a sheep pen.

The dates and places match up.

I accuse you of 2 other murders.

One in Etaule and the other
in St. Etienne on May 8, 1896.

I have pictures of the victims.

Look at them!
Bouvier! Look at them!

Look at the people
you eviscerated,

raped and deified'.!

I pity you.

Why go to Paris when
Paris comes to you?

Will stay for lunch?

No thanks. I just stopped by.

It's not important.
See you later.

He didn't eat anything today.

Leave me alone with him.

Don't worry.

Since I can't keep
you out, come and look.

It's full of ants.

Look what that one's doing.

The others aren't even looking.

Aren't you hungry?

It stopped doing it.

You're very crafty, Your Honor.

It's really too bad.

The way you operate
makes me pity you.

You knew it
couldn't last, Bouvier.

Deep down you must feel better.

I helped lighten your burden.

I'm with you comrade.

We'll travel together.

I can't speak, but
I'll write you a letter.

The world shouldn't
suffer anymore

because of the afflictions
of a mental patient.

I'll bring you some
writing materials.

And some sausage.

You can't write a
letter like that overnight.

What if he doesn't write it?

I had to let it dry.

We're out of blotters.

I'll have to remedy that.

"God, Law, Duty!

To France!" Good opening.

"Yes, I committed the crimes
you accuse me of in fits of rage.

I was bitten by a rabid dog."

- Was he bitten?
- No.

"I've always thought the
cure poisoned my blood.

That is, if I was
bitten by a dog.

I don't know what's
wrong with me.

Sometimes I could just kill.

I set out across the fields
whenever it struck me.

Without regard
for paths or roads.

I sought comfort from the land."

Your hobo write well.

My efforts paid off.

Yes, but for now, you have
nothing. This is not a confession.

No details, no names, no places.

And if by chance,
this odd character

decides to retract,
which is possible,

You'd be taken for
a fool, a braggart.

A dreamer taken for a
ride by a mental patient.

The court would look bad.

I'd look like an idiot.

Or a poet.

Aren't you listening
to the music?

That's the Red Donkey,
a hero in Algeria.

He buried 100 Arabs
up to their necks

and kicked their
heads in. Charming!

Hello, colonel!

Did you read the article
by Zola in the paper?

Zola is a toilet on which
I'd sit until they shot him.

That's evocative!

Yes I'm the Great Terror!

Be an anarchist or a socialist,

The real villains are the
doctors who let me out.

So, Bouvier...

Leave us alone.

How do you fill?

Innocent, because
it was God's will.

I'm just his instrument,
created by him

for purposes that
no one may know.

In the letters you wrote me...

I didn't write it to you,
I wrote it to France.

It's written at the
top. Didn't you read it?

It's very clear.

Yes, of course.

But you leave a lot unexplained.

My silence tells you
more than my words could.

But now we need details!

Let's not bother with
such sordid things.

It's ugly, it's bad for
the morals of youth.

Listen, Bouvier!

The accused have to
give a detailed account of

the crimes to
which they confess.

It's the law.

Please be reasonable.

Help me out.

On one condition.

My letter is printed
in 3 newspapers:

The Lyon Republican, Progress
and The Little Journal with my picture,

I want everyone to know I was
bitten by a rabid dog when I was 16

and my blood was
poisoned by the cures,

and by my poor treatment
at the asylum of Dole,

asylum of destruction and death.

Which explains my behavior.

When I see the papers
with my letter in them,

then out of friendship for you
because you're honest and considerate,

I'll tell you everything.

If not, then no way!

Bouvier, you know
that's against the law!

Then we need a new law.

It's only fair there
should be a give and take.

Hail Mary! Bastard monks!

You can't never be too
fanatical about the truth.

- Him crazy?
- He's unhinged.

Unhinged, yes,

and evil to the bone. A filthy
pederast and a sadist, but not crazy.

A madman doesn't ask
for his picture in the paper.

He's very clever to go
public before the trial

to influence opinion
and the witness.

He's a cunning peasant
trying to trick me.

I'll pretend to go along.

He wants his picture
taken in a white shirt?

Fine. Perfect!

Make sure it fits. His
neck is bigger than mine.

It's one of your
poor father's shirts.

He'll drive you crazy
with his demands.

I'm counting on
this picture, Mother.

I'll make good use
of it, believe me.

Does it bother
you to lie to him?

Why? It's my job.

I like it, Judge.

But I want to hold something
else besides the book.

Like these keys. They
are keys to the jail.

Let him have them.

I'll handle it.

The keys to heaven.

My parents will be happy.

- Which book?
- The life of Joan of Arc.

Down with Prussia!

How does this look?

Very good.

It'll appear in the
paper next to my letter.

So make me look good.

- Stop moving!
- Sewer rat!

I'll take your picture!

Sorry, your Honor.

Make the face bigger

so that any illiterate peasant
can recognize and identify him.

Make 100 prints.

100?

That'll be expensive.
I'll pay you myself.

They'll all be talking
about me one day.

You can say you paid
Bouvier's Photograph.

- It's nothing.
- The world will know my face.

I owe you that. Bouvier.

Yours is a big case
for a provincial judge.

Maybe the biggest
after the Dreyfus Affair.

- Which you heard about?
- Maybe.

If what you claim in
your letter can be proved,

I'll get a promotion or
decoration from the government.

I'm confident about the future.

Where do I stand?

I'm getting to that. Bouvier.

When I tell you to
give me the details,

that only the horror of
your crimes can save you,

I'm not thinking of myself.

I'm thinking of you.

Justice is not
interested in madman.

They don't execute madman.

The Legion of Honor?
Promotion? I'll do without.

All I want is truth.

I forgot my shirt and scarf.

No, come here, Your Honor.

Sit down.

I'd like to offer you
a bishop's throne.

Thank you. Bouvier.

Firing on a little
girl. Shame on you.

She wasn't supposed to be here.

Give me that! Attempted murder!

Idiot!

Give me your hand.

Stop!

Stop!

This child will take
communion with yours.

A murderer's daughter
won't take communion here.

The murderer has been arrested!

The murderer is behind bars!

His name is Bouvier.

It's in all the headlines.
With his confession.

We don't believe you.

So you will take
communion alone.

What are you doing here?

I need to talk to you.

It's been a while. Too
many reporters around.

How are things at home?

Not good.

Suzanne tried to escape again.

Why didn't you tell me?

Why should I?

You don't visit anymore.

The doctor's taking
her to the sanitarium.

When?

Tomorrow morning.

That soon?

They are coming
to get her at 7:00.

She'd like to see
you. She asks for you.

I'll be there.

It would help a lot.

Is that him?

He sounds like he's in pain.

Maybe.

He screams like a
lunatic during a storm.

How did his victims scream?

Here, you'll need this.

You're coming tomorrow.

Doesn't matter.

I don't have my purse - Take it.

Your picture's in the
paper, like the Czar.

I'm increasing circulation
by 100,000 a day.

What responsibility!

Some Americans are here?

From Chicago. The
Chicago Tribune.

A new crime every day,
just like in the serials.

It's not over yet.

He seems to like making me wait.

What if it weren't true?

What if he made it up?

Why would he?

Just to talk.

To avoid being alone.

Hurry! I can't wait any longer.

I'll go with you.

Out of the way!

Mr. Bouvier has
an ear infection.

- Who's that?
- Dr. Radeuf.

- For the ear?
- No, for the man.

- This not a sideshow.
- I got permission.

And I refuse it.

This is an unpardonable
violation. Get out of here!

Get out or I'll
file a complaint!

I'm helping to advance
French medicine.

Get out!

In the army they
take good care of you.

I'm trying to prevent
other Bouviers.

Even if it costs your job.

Did you bring the paper?

Yes, and it's a real rag.

Look at the front page.

Both of them tarred
with the same brush.

You make up crimes so
we'll think you're crazy.

And I lap all up like an idiot.

Those bastard! Bastards!

We'll teach these
bullies a thing or two.

I may be a killer,
but I'm not a liar.

I'll tell you about
the 12th one.

After that I can't
do any more for you.

But Bouvier, they'll
say you're lying again.

No, No, I've got them this time.

It's a boy I threw down a well.

Only I know there
is a body there.

What's the closest village?

I don't know.

What do you mean?

I was out of my mind.

Still...

Bring me a map
and I'll show you.

Then they'll have
to believe you.

And I'll have the last laugh.

I'll get the map.

Your Honor, when
can I get treatment?

I want to go back to
St. Robert's Asylum.

This is dragging on forever.

How long could it possibly
take to dredge a well?

Don't worry, it's here.

Your Honor!

Thank you!

Thank you, Bouvier,
you've helped me a lot.

Without you, I might have
ended up killing for profit.

Did you have any regrets?

No, I know it's God's will by
the great relief I felt afterward.

My face changed and
no one was afraid of me.

Strange, isn't it?

But you made them
suffer horribly, Bouvier!

Don't feel too sorry for them.

They suffered about
10 minutes all together.

For 2 years I've been
walking around France

like a lunatic with
2 bullet in my head

and my ears dripping
into my mouth.

And the sun striking
my poor, half-dead brain.

Sergeant!

- That's for us, Your Honor.
- Hello.

You read L'assommoir
by Zola in the Army?

It's not for reading,
it's for burning.

We're making a
bonfire at the barracks

for the Zola books people
want to get rid of, at 7:00.

You're invited. The
Colonel is coming.

We might go. There is
not much else going on.

What bothers me is
the skeleton in the well.

Bouvier leaves the
asylum on April 1

and kills 40 days
after. It's too soon.

He'd still be considered insane.

Maybe.

But, if he was
insane for the first,

then why not for the 11 others?

Unless you argue that
Bouvier's mental state

improved the more he killed.

So you think he is insane.

Don't you?

Sometimes.

Sometimes I wonder...

about the well, but for
different reason from you.

He seemed so eager
to make me happy.

You see too much of him.

You'll end up pitying him.

My advantage is that I
don't want to see him.

It might make me lose
track of the main point

Bouvier threw
himself into vagrancy,

disorder and anarchy.

He's destructive and
must be eliminated.

Like Dreyfus.

Dreyfus may be innocent.

I doubt it.

Anyway it doesn't matter.

Maurras advocated cheating your leaders,
friends, colleagues and fellow citizens

when it is for the good of all.

Emil, take advantage of the
press. They're covering you.

The pro-clergy ones
for his anarchism.

The anti-clergy
ones for his piety.

The insanity supporters
changed their minds

because circulation was down.

You want me to
influence public opinion?

What about judicial
confidentiality?

You have their mouth watering.

Don't deprive them of the kill.

If you were in my place,

would you have the
courage to do what I've done?

Of course not.

I thought so.

Here's the accordion.
I thought so.

Here's the accordion.

With this, Bouvier might
have charmed his victims

before cutting their throats.

And the oil...

The 12 known victims
were sodomized.

I say "known" because

there might be 20
victims, 9 of them raped.

The rape look like the handiwork
of the man you rightly call

the Great Terror
of the Southeast.

He always killed the helpless?

Always. In isolated places.

Bouvier killed methodically,
almost scientifically.

Then disappeared
covering up to 60 km a day.

If he was crazy,

he'd have been
arrested in those 3 years.

And the dog that bit him?

Licked him.

Not bit him. We have witnesses.

Send in Bouvier.

Glory to Jesus and Joan
of Arc and all the martyrs!

There are 2 sides
to every story.

Bouvier, these are
Journalists from Paris

here to ask you some questions.

Who wrote that I was the
Great Terror of the Southeast?

Better to be a great terror

than to make a great terror.

That's all.

No, stay Bouvier.

Let's hear your
questions, gentlemen.

I heard you're
fascinated by Joan of Arc?

I was struck by the
similarity of our missions.

Like me, she was a martyr,

but in different form and in
another time sent to awaken France.

I don't just like her because
she was a shepherdess.

What does anarchist of God mean?

In my secret life, I'm the
arch-enemy of the true evildoers.

What do you think of
the anarchist attacks?

The bourgeoisie
gets what it deserves.

No! No accordion!

I wasn't going to play.

"We punish striking
workers, why not vagrants?"

To prevent other Bouviers,
we need stricter laws.

Longer prison terms for hobos.

Longer prison terms for hobos.

Parasites who
seek only to satisfy

their hunger and
sexual appetite.

This year there were 18,067 of fences
committed by this antisocial element.

It's getting political.

I told you that I'm
not politically inclined.

Your Honor!

I'd like to read
something I wrote for you.

Go ahead.

Judge Rousseau
is man you can trust.

He gained the confidence
of the anarchist hobo.

How perfect if Bouvier
thought he was his friend.

Fine, but Bouvier
will be mad at me.

Don't talk about me yet.

Then when?

Later.

"Little shepherd, and
pretty shepherdess

innocently playing pipes.

As your sheep drink
from the clear stream.

In the reeds and the ferns,

You dread to see the wolf
snatch up a lamb take it to its lair.

But there are greater danger.

You've never imagined.

There are creatures worse
than bloodthirsty tigers.

Deadlier than Vampires and
more treacherous than snakes.

These madmen commit rape.

And sign their perverse acts.

In the very flesh of
their innocent victims.

In the midst of these horrors
Appears Bouvier the Great Terror

Bouvier belongs to the
breed of tramps and hobos.

Begging their room and board.

Anarchist on the
fringe of society.

During harvest
and grape-picking.

He lurks around village.

Hiding beneath his hat the
strange gleam in his eyes.

Yet he seems like a nice boy
when he plays the accordion.

He pursues his
long, winding trek

committing numerous crimes
until the day he's caught.

He claims that in his youth
he was bitten by a dog.

And that the medicine he was
given made him feeble-minded.

What's worse, this odious man
claims to be inspired by God.

To end my story

I'm waiting for the verdict.

Our country's
justice rarely fails.

Good people, have faith in the
police and judges and in the court

that will try the man
who terrified all France.

In the meantime, let jailors
keep watch night and day

on Bouvier."

That's lovely, like I was dead.

God has used me

and the road to vengeance
has been terrible.

It's a beautiful song,

but it would be better
with an accordion.

Not many people are lucky enough

to hear a song like
that in their lifetime.

Not many people
are as sick as I am.

For Suzanne.

They are beautiful.

Very festive.

Do you want to see her?

No.

Not here.

I went up...

but sick people scare me.

The nurse said
she wasn't unhappy.

She doesn't complain, anyway.

It's hard to talk in hospitals.

I'll send you money.

Why?

I haven't seen you for 3 months.

I know, it's the reporters.

Do you want me to kiss you?

That wouldn't be proper.

Exactly.

According to whom?

If you like.

Go ahead.

No, don't.

Bouvier said with a smirk,

'The only thing I've ever
stolen was food from a dog.

Because I'm for justice.

I will be blamed
for many crimes,

but I am just a poor
lamb who left the fold

for the world of
injustice and poverty.

Close the door!

Trying to escape?

I want to go to Sunday mass!

Viva anarchy!

Let him go.

He broke the door to the cell!

Find him another!

Even the asylum conducted mass.

Take my missal
to read the prayers.

You'll need it.

I'll use Mother's.

According to the
Justice Minister,

you now have the right to
a lawyer during questioning.

I no longer need a lawyer.

I just want to go back
to St. Robert's asylum.

You'll go back after
you see the doctors.

But I agree: Why do
you need a lawyer?

You're intelligent.

You don't need anyone
helping you to answer questions.

This is taking forever!!

When are the doctors coming?

Next week.

Still no letters from Louise?

I'd have brought it.

What is she waiting for?

I wrote her 7 long letters.

Is she the only
woman you have loved?

You know better than that.

You know I have
weakness for little angels.

You raped them.

They wanted me to,

to calm my fits of
rage and madness.

Go to a brothel!

Brothel women are too flabby.

I prefer shepherdesses.

Little 14-year-old girls...

Even 12-year-olds.

No time to defend themselves.

That's where it starts.

Then you lift their rough
dresses up over their thighs.

No panties, not much hair.

You can do whatever you want.

What nasty things to say.

I attacked children
because of my illness.

Maybe. ..

I was attracted to them.

Then you're afraid
of live women?

What could I do?

A stiff one makes its own law.

What law?

There are no two laws, Bouvier!

The only law is to
control your base instincts.

Nice words, but
nature speaks louder.

We all have temptations,
but we resist them.

For the sake of society.

To hell with society!

I answer to God.

I work for justice.

France is guilty.

There's too much
inequality and poverty.

I'm either a great savior,

or a great martyr of
the turn-of-the-century,

or one of the chosen ones.

The doctors are here.

You have to understand
cause and effect.

Meanwhile put on your shoe.

Welcome to Bethlehem.

France must march
into the right direction.

And we need a government

that makes people
responsible for their actions.

Urgent notice:

Try to remember,

doctors, with your difficult
task and holy mission,

that when dealing
with my important case,

you should consider
my former state,

rather than my present state.

If I am considered responsible,

how can my
responsibility be justified

after I've already
been locked up twice?

Postscript:

First postscript:

If I can't be considered
irresponsible for my action, who can?

Second Postscript:

It's about time that right-thinking
people put blames where it belongs,

on the doctors at
the Dole asylum,

the doctors who let me out

and the dog that bit me.

There is nothing left to say.

Excuse me.

Let's hope they
don't rule him insane.

He's poor. He
hasn't got a chance.

Here, take this.

Go ahead. Don't be scared.

What do you want?

Judge Rousseau?

Yes.

I came 100 km to see you.

I'm allowed to speak to you, madame,
because I'm free man, thanks to him.

I was arrested then released
because he found the true culprit.

I'm dirty, but I'd like
to give you a hug.

I knew Bouvier on the road.

He's obviously...

We'll find out.

I'd like to have
a picture of you.

That's easy enough.

If I had money, I could
give you a picture of me.

Come with me, my friend.

In Cochin China,
gardens are like poems.

Roses have names like.

"Heaven and death
are the same color."

And, excuse me, "Gently open your
thighs and let the pleasure take over."

Can you picture
a French gardener

giving the President
a rose called.

"Gently open your thighs"?

Maybe they aren't roses for man.

' Why not?

Maybe you'll go
back to Cochin China.

Unfortunately I will.

Why unfortunately?

My enemies are
reopening the case.

You said it wouldn't stand up.

It's politically motivated.

My only crime is
being a monarchist.

Aren't there judges in Saigon?

Yes as many as you like.

Judges at the beck
and call of military fools.

The republicans who
want my hide will get it.

They say that Comedie
Française hires working-class girls

to dress up as monkeys.

Mother!

Mother!

He is not insane!

He is not insane!

Medical opinion
is unconditional.

"Bouvier is a violent
and immoral man

suffering temporarily
from melancholy.

He's a bloodthirsty sadist

who thinks he's safe because
he's a ex-mental patient.

He fight back against
society using anarchism, etc."

You were right.

Maybe.

Better than we hoped.

They could have ruled
diminished responsibility.

It's embarrassing how servile
our medical establishment is.

Well, I invited one of them.
Dr. Degueldre, for lunch.

You're invited too. Please stay.

I insist. You've
helped me so much.

I'll lend you my houseboy
just to see Dr. Degueldre's face.

He'll only be tried
for one crime?

That means "Help yourselves".

Thanks to you and
your brilliant report.

Doctor, he'll be
indicted for all 12 crimes.

The jury will be
briefed about them.

But Bouvier will only
be tried for the last crime,

the farthest from
his release date.

Our report leaves no
doubt as to his lucidity.

But he is a mental defective.

Yes, like Ravacnol and all the
other fashionable anarchists.

If we didn't execute them,
there would be chaos.

Is there Dutch
gin in these quails?

It's essential.

I agree. Delicious!

Yes it's very good, Mother.

I never doubted
Bouvier was play-acting.

His mystical raptures,
incoherent speech,

bouts of violence...

There was something
fishy about it.

He knew that claiming to be the son of
God would serve him well after his arrest.

- Some wine?
- Please.

It's the best local wine.

The only one, in my opinion.

- Villedieu?
- No, thanks.

Bouvier wanted us to think he
wasn't responsible for his actions.

But lunatics
don't act like that.

Admitting you're sick and seeking
help is incompatible with insanity.

A madman who knows
he's is mad is cured.

The army doctor who
discharged him didn't agree.

He examined him for 10 minutes.

There's also Dr. Radeuf.

How much time?

Maybe 5 minutes.

I can't wait to hear the
laughter in the court room.

I don't think they'll
let him testify.

Those quacks from
Salpetriere hospital

and their serious examinations!

To study Bouvier properly,

you have to stand on his left.

From the right, all
opinions get distorted.

Took a month to discover that.

I'm now convinced that Bouvier
pretends to be crazy to escape execution.

Crazy people don't want
to be executed either.

They're also afraid of fire

and won't eat
soup that's too hot,

They don't want
to suffer or die.

You're giving an
incomplete picture of insanity.

Retouch it a little and it will
look quite a lot like Bouvier.

If you were the judge?

I'm no longer a judge.

Mr. Villedieu. Once a
judge, always a judge.

Maybe. If we were at war,
Bouvier would serve his country well.

But we're not at war.

Yes, we are. Against
people like Bouvier.

How are you this morning?

Terrible.

I wrote a letter of complaint.

Sick people should be
in a hospital, not in prison.

All these bullshit specialists
and their bullshit disciplines...

You're like the bishop
who burned Joan of Arc.

The Great Millionaire
will protect me against you.

- The Great Millionaire.
- God, you bastard!

Aren't you scared of me?

No.

Why?

Do you carry a gun?

No, this is my only weapon.

Bouvier.

According to the medical
assessment, you're crazy.

Not responsible
for your actions.

If you try to kill me, they
execute you anyway.

Killing a judge gets
you the death penalty.

Sorry, Your Honor.

If I'd wanted to, I'd
have killed you earlier.

I've had this knife for 6 weeks.

Don't leave me.

Don't leave me.

I need treatment.

I need treatment.

Don't leave me!

Don't leave me!

Rosati!

I knew you'd come back.

Lift you skirts.

Here?

I said lift your skirts.

Not like this.

Do as I say.

No.

Hurry!

Hurry!

Lie down.

Turn around.

Be quiet!

The worst part is
that you're ashamed.

Is that why you came here?

I need you!

Mother,

this is Rose.

I've told you about her.

He wanted me to come.

You took a big risk
today at the prison.

He used to like you.

Couldn't last forever.

He is crying.

No, he has a
problem with his eyes.

Or he is sad because he
was betrayed by a friend.

- What friend.
- You.

Is it sane to make
friends with your judge?

It's not my fault
that he liked me.

Doesn't it bother
you that he liked you?

He is a wild animal
that I set a trap for.

Do you want to see him?

No. No point.

I was fascinated by this case.

I've regained interest in
my career, thanks to you.

And thanks to him.

I have no interest
in the execution.

Execution?

He hasn't even been tried yet.

I like your sense of humour.

You've been always funny.

One, two! Platoon to the right!

Tighten the rank!
Lift your stupid heads!

I AM A VICTIM OF
PRISONS AND ASYLUMS.

Sing, you idiot!
That's an order!

Monster! Judas!

You should be here in my place.

Don't cry for me,
cry for yourselves!

I didn't sleep last night,

but I'll go bravely
into my combat.

She is beautiful.

Bouvier...

She is as beautiful
as my Louise.

Poor Louise!

Louise,

neither men nor their weapons
can keep me from the guillotine.

Sometimes time is a good master

and few times
chance a good judge.

Thanks, Judas!

I'm not dead yet.

First the trial of the
anarchist of God!

Good-bye! Everyone is
welcome! See you there!

Louise, the problem with this judge is
that he doesn't know any poor people.

He lives a sheltered life.

He didn't grow up in a
family with 12 children

where every day was
a struggle with hunger.

Louise,

I'd like to send you a picture of
me so you can see how calm I am,

Like at St. Robert's Asylum.

I don't have attacks anymore,

only tears for the misery
that has befallen France

and me.

70,000 people came
out to see him die,

there was so
much publicity for it.

All of them screaming for blood.

And shaking the
executioner's hand.

The paper didn't tell you that they
wouldn't let him speak to the people.

He lay down and said,
"You'll have to carry me.

I won't give you the
pleasure of dying bravely."

Then they took
him to the guillotine.

Afterwards they all
celebrated New Year's Eve.

The restaurants were full.

It was a big party.

Were you there?

Yes.

I'm Mr. Rousseau's girlfriend.

The judge?

Yes.

The judge.

Now they are saying
bad things about him.

They say he executed a lunatic.

It is true.

I should know, after
what he did to me.

Do you hate Bouvier?

No.

Why didn't you write him?

I didn't get any letters.

He sent them to a friend
who threw them out because

there wasn't enough postage.

Would you have written him?

I'd like to say yes,
but I don't know.

Why didn't you testify?

That's not my fault.

I was surprised that
they didn't summon me.

Maybe he knew you'd
say he was crazy.

I hope your judge
is very unhappy-

Oh! Very?

No...

But he is not very happy either.

Does he feel remorse?

Oh no! Not like that.

He thinks they are
being jealous and unfair.

What does he expect,
the Legion of Honor?

Yes, actually.

I feel sorry for you
with a man like that.

I feel like I've
already left him.

The public opinion and the press
fought for Bouvier's head, and they got it.

Now they want a
medal for the judge

whose courage and zeal
rid France of a monster.

They were laughed at.

History shows that ingratitude is
characteristic of democratic governments.

Judge Rousseau's
case is typical.

Here is a man who fought
for order and society.

Not thanking him is bad enough.

Condemning him is despicable.

Then there are the
doctors and journalists

who after dissecting Bouvier's head,
claimed to find physical sign of madness.

These Jewish-influenced
Pseudo-scientists

are the ones who want to
clear the name of Dreyfus.

Tarnishing the court and the army
is the same as tarnishing France!

Judge Rousseau is
thinking of quitting.

He needs our
approval and support!

Only men like him can
exterminate the enemy within,

the cabal of Jews, Freemasons,
Socialists and Protestants.

Who exploit, betray
and occupy France.

They must be exterminated!

Rousseau! Murderer!

Officers, clear the room!

Don't cry, Mother.

It's nothing.

It'll pass.

It doesn't matter.

Look at me, We will
go away, just two of us.

If you sill want me.

They are heading
for the factory.

I don't care anymore.

My love, we were unlucky.

There was a war
and we were young.

The winter of '70 was
filled with suffering.

It only got worse
come springtime.

Lilacs will cover the
highlands of Belleville,

The slopes of Montmartre
and the Meudon woods.

We'll go pick them
in happier times.

We're fighting for the
Commune and we'll win.

We've heard our comrades say,

"The villains from Versailles
are marching on Paris."

You said, “I'm going to
the barricades with you.

The place of woman
is with her husband."

Soldiers join us!

Wages and bread!

Take aim!

Between 1893 and 1898 The sergeant
Joseph Bouvier killed 12 children.

During the same period, more
than 2,500 children under 15

years perished in the mines
and siik factories, murdered!