A Monkey in Winter
Kommen sie bald wieder!
-Sailor Esnault Lucien! Rig the junk!
We sail within five minutes. -Yes captain!
-I'm on it
-Albert, Please don't!
You're not going to make a bloody mess again?!
-Madame, the navigation rights on the Yangtse-kiang
is granted us by the treaty of august 3d, 1885!
Do you challenge the treaty?
-I don't challenge anything.
I only ask you not to wreck everything again. Like last time!
-Oh, excuse me!
Last time, the men of Sun-Yat-Sen...
tried to fool us, I nipped their rebellion in the bud.
But we only beheaded the bad guys. The sailor Esnault can testify to that.
-I swear it's true
-OK. Let's continue our mission to bring some civilization.
First let me give you the last instructions of the admiral Guépratte,
corrected by the Quartermaster Quentin, here present. Listen!
The admiral wants us to dig a subterranean channel...
that will connect the Hwang Ho ... and the Yangtse-kiang.
-The Yangtse-kiang? No problem!
-As you will know...
Hwang Ho means 'Yellow River'...
and Yangtse-kiang 'Blue River'.
Can you imagine the marvellous view when they mix?
A Green River!
Green like the forests, like hope itself!
Sailor Esnault, we're going to paint Asia,
in a tender hue.
We're going to establish a new spring in this shitty country!
-OK. I'll leave you to it, I have more guests to serve.
-Hey, you native, you could show us some tact!
We know who your customers are!
That Wehrmacht scum, with their sneaky Feldwebel, that housebreaker!
I'll never tell you a story again
-Albert, don't get mad.
-Goddamnit, holy fucking shit! I offer you tricolored rivers...
Mountains in blossom and sacred temples...
And you change it into a bordello! Your Norman Babylon in my China!
Sailor Esnault! -At your orders!
-We're going to burn down the village Where are the grenades?
-Monsieur Quentin!
Calm down, I beg your pardon!
-You surrender? O.K! The iron fist clad by a velvet glove.
Sailor, back at the paddles! -Yes, at your service.
-Take care of the rocks!
and above all, watch the mirages!
The Yangtse-kiang isn't a river, it's an avenue...
An avenue, 5.000 km long... It tumbles down from Tibet...
to end in the Yellow Sea...
with it's junks and sampans lying on the shore.
And in the center there're maelstroms and floating islands,
with their orchids, high like trees.
The Yangtse-kiang, mate, that's millions of cubic meters...
of gold and flowers descending towards Nankin.
All along it's shore there are floating cities, where you can buy everything!
Rice Alcohol, All religions, and then... the whores and the opium!
I can assure you, hostess, that the marine commando...
for years, has been a decorative element in the tea houses.
We still knew, how to laugh in those times.
'She went down and out for a red haired, rose pimp.
He was a Jew, of garlic he smelled.
And he got her, though she came from Formosa, from some brothel in Shanghai.'
-Beautiful -I didn't write that!
These fumes haunt me while I go down the river..
-I thought it was an avenue
-We don't know. Maybe it's a dream, pouring out to the sea
-Schnell!
-Schluss der Vorstellung! -They harass us with their war.
-Hey! Wait for me!
-Achtung, messieurs! Achtung!
-Go! Into the cellar!
-They're bombing le Havre
-You idiot, Le Havre is the other way! This is going to hit us in the jaw!
Get down!
-Maybe we better get back to the wife. They will worry about us.
-Well, they have something to worry about.
They start again! -Nothing will happen, I tell you!
-'Nothing, nothing?'... -Nothing!
Why are you fucking around with your tie? -I don't wanna die untidy.
-You can lay out your own corpse later, get moving!
Oh! Fuck! Tac, tac, tac, tac, tac, tac, tac!
-Albert!
Albert! Wait!
Albert!
-It's a long way to Tipperary...
It's a long way to go.
It's a long way to Tipperary...
Et goodbye Piccadilly...
It's a long way to go!
Down the sewers with these krauts! So they can eat shit!
-Stop that, Albert, Or we will be executed!
-I won't need a blindfold and I will command the firing squad myself!
Right in the heart, messieurs!
-You think it's time to act like a clown?
-I don't see what this has got to do with clowns, madame!
Here stands Quartermaster Quentin, Far East Expeditionary Corps!
Attention! Hoist the flag!
At ease!
Ah, Now the fun part starts!
This morning people said that the Krauts will blow up everything.
They deserve it.
A soldier on the run is entitled to some recreational compensation.
I caused some mayhem in my day. I know how it is.
-If you drank less, then maybe you could get scared like everybody.
-Then I would be another man, and I don't want to be another man.
-You feel smart to die drunk?
You know what they will say around the village?
-To die tight is to die upright, and I don't give a shit about gossips!
History will be my judge, madame! And I see no reason to drink less today.
All that motherfuckers are going to fuck the whole village!
-Komm her!
-Albert, I'm afraid! -Drink!
Ooooh!
Where're you, Suzanne?
Suzanne! Hon, where are you?
Ah! There, there!
Listen, dear Suzanne.
I'm going to tell you something, very serious, even solemn.
If we get out of this...
if this hotel stays erect and I can re-light the signboard...
Uuuh..I swear I never will touch a glass anymore. Never!
Watch me do it. This is maybe...
The last.
-I'm coming.
-To Tigreville. -Get in.
-Is it far? -No, six kilometers.
-Is there still a hotel available?
-It's not the season, I'll bring you to the only one open.
That one is 'Les Roches Noires'...
the best hotel, but they close on the 15th of September.
You could better have stayed at Deauville...
there are some good hotels still open over there.
-Same goes for Cannes, or Palma. Alas, I've no business there.
-It was only an advice...
This is it, 'Chez Quentin'. It's open...
But you won't laugh a lot over there.
-That's not why I came. -OK.
Quentin! Albert!
Albert!
-What's up? -A customer
-I'm coming down.
-How much do I owe you? -1.500 francs, for the ride.
-Et 500 for your conversation. This is for you. -Thanks.
Good evening, Albert. -Good evening.
-Do you have a room? -I have 14 of them. Come in.
Please follow me.
If you came to have an ocean swim...
the season has ended.
-Farmers say nowadays: 'Seasons don't exist anymore!'
There's still a season over here?
-From August 1st until August 15th, if we have a good year.
You will stay for a couple of days? -I don't know yet.
-There you are.
-Looks great. -Fill in the register tomorrow.
You need something else?
-Any drinks? -Water? Vittel, Evian, Perrier?
-Coming to think of it, I'm not thirsty. -OK. Good night.
-Who is that? -A customer.
-Did he say anything?
-He wanted a room. I gave him room number 8.
-Weird hour to arrive, especially in this weather.
-Travellers are made to travel.
The weather doesn't count.
-Listen. -What?
-Don't tell me it's normal.
-So what? Searching for the toilet?
-Albert!
-Are you looking for something? -The door.
-Right in front of you.
Please, do close it behind you.
-Messieurs.
-What will you have? -A Picon bière.
-Excuse me.
Mr. Esnault, a Picon bière...
is it half-and-half?
-Not that stiff yet, maybe later! I need some warm-up first...
I'll show you my recipe.
Request a phone connection to this number.
-Short-distance? -No.
-To Paris? -To Madrid. Here's the number.
-Mr. Esnault, how does one make a call to Madrid?
-Quiet Please! I'm trying to call Spain!
Mlle Claire...who?
-Claire Prévost.
-For phone number 14 in Tigreville, I would like...
number 394800 in Madrid.
-In Spain? -Yes, in Spain!
Advanced notice for Mlle Claire Prévost.
-It'll take some minutes. -Hello! With ID.
-OK. -Thank you.
-They will call back.
-Can I offer you something in the meantime? -A Calvados.
-A 'calva' for monsieur.
For me, same game, same colour.
They're going to bed early, the neighbours across the street.
-You checked into Quentin's? Well, have fun!
-He'll serve you right away, ...if you're not thirsty.
I'm not sure if they will still serve wine at dinner.
Good old Albert... You can say that he jumped the fence, that guy.
Because excuse me, merry companion, ladies! He wasn't picky, when on the feeding-bottle!
Come on.
We laughed a lot, both of us, 15 years ago.
-Ah, because you were part of it? -Yes, and we went all the way.
Then one day, snap, Not a single drop. Abstinence!
Since that day, he's not the same anymore, and it seems that all of his evil came out.
-What do you call evil?
Uncommunicative, arrogant. He thinks himself better than us.
An air of superiority. -But he was always like that.
Didn't he serve in China? Wants to be different!
-Like his reading...
Did he just read the papers, like we do? Forget it!
He read books! By the yards.
Do you recall he drove us mad with...
Wait... The fat guy with the name of a fizzy drink...
Apollinarès? -Apollinaris!
-He was always crazy. But at least he talked to you.
Only after he quit boozing, did he become silent and sly.
You try to find out what he really thinks.
-They say that he had all kinds of diseases.
-I'd understand, if he had cancer or cirrhosis of the liver.
Fine! I would respect that! But he should just tell us!
Must be Madrid.
Hello? -Number 14 in Tigreville?
-Yes. Stay on the line. Madrid for you.
-Hello, hotel Mora? -Yes sir, you want?
-Mlle Claire Prévost. -One second, I'll put her through.
-Hello? Hello? Who is this?
Hello? Answer please! Who's talking?
-What's he doing over there.
-Looking for something you won't find here anymore.
-Do you regret?
-Why do you want me to regret? I still have my candy.
-Albert.
Come over here and go to sleep.
-Hitler! The only problem I had with him, was his moustache.
-Another bottle!
-Tell us what you did under Nazi occupation.
-I wrote to the Kommandantur, I denounced all wrongdoers.
Listen, I've denounced you, more than 10 times for black-marketing.
Well, the Germans never believed me.
-We told you, she is something special.
-Monsieur, cheers!
-This round'll bring you luck!
-First time you come to Tigreville ? Won't be the last, I tell you.
-We have 20.000 Parisians over here every summer.
-That's true!
-Best air, even better than Berck!
-They call us the California of Normandy.
Messieurs, to Tigreville!
-to Tigreville!
-Messieurs, this welcome sweeps me off my feet.
That should not eclipse my judgement.
I dare say, that I made many voyages.
So I speak with authority when I say...
Your little place is a dump! Shouldn't be allowed!
And it has a shitty weather!
-I suppose you're kidding? -Not at all.
-You know how many sunny days we had in July? ... Seventeen!
-You call that Sun? My ass!
You can't know, what the sun is like. You never saw it before!
Now that's what I call 'Sun'!
Ah, but I don't want to see empty glasses.
Quieto!
-Maybe he is armed! -The gentleman pays!
My party will arrive next, gypsies! Treat them like myself.
-I'll treat you to a kick in the butt!
-Get back, you Eskimos! I'll go by myself.
The matador always walks alone. The greater he is, the lonelier.
I leave you with your icefields, your igloos and your penguins
Por favor, senora, at what time the train leaves for Madrid?
-In 5 minutes. Hurry, or you will miss it.
Get out! Before I get mad!
Go help him cross the street.
The Picon bière is treacherous. My father died of it.
-I bumped into a seal trap.
-Shit happens. Lean on my shoulder.
-You have a nice-looking face.
We're at the station? -Yes.
-You want a platform ticket? -No, it's not worth it.
-OK. Ciao!
-Have a good trip!
-That's him, coming back.
I told you so!
-Oh shit...
-Hi, dad!
-What's wrong with you?
-I must have stepped off a moving train.
-It looks like you did. Go! Stand fast.
Take care...Go.
-My old dad... I'm so glad to have you.
Can I call you dad? -Yes, go ahead.
-We'll drink a little, the two of us and tell nobody.
-Thanks, but I don't drink.
-La senora maybe should like to bring a toast to...
-La senora, above all, wants to sleep.
Let's go.
-Come with me to the Prado. You been there?
-A garden, with a museum.
Not something to wake me up for in the middle of the night.
-Claire and me went there all the time, we bought two tickets...
and we had enough dreams for a hundred years.
Do you also know Claire, maybe?
-It's your girlfriend?
-She is. A girlfriend who ran away.
That's not nice. That's bad.
You can't refuse to drink with a guy who lost his girlfriend.
-I told you already. I don't drink. Lie down.
Now will you go to sleep? -No!
Better idea: I'm going to order two Jerez sherry.
-What's going on this time?!
Who's ringing? -Nobody, Go back to sleep!
-I'm going to invite the landlady. -She sleeps. Everybody sleeps.
-The good old days are gone.
We never went to sleep that early in Madrid.
Will she come, to see my first bullfight in those monumental arena's?
-I will inform her of your invitation.
-There will be many people. Luis Miguel always get's a crowd.
Since a long time I dream of a triumph in Madrid.
The audience will be hard to please, especially after Miguelito.
I'll have to take high risks.
-I hope everything will go right.
-I'll wear my white suit, same as the first time.
Do you remember that bullfight in Toledo?
A cold wind, dreadful audience and a bull that refused to die.
Now, I have pierced more than a hundred. The greatest matador from France!
Gabriel Fouquet! Even greater than Pierre Schull!
Yo soy unico!
Did I grab your attention, dad? -Maybe.
-How did it touch you?
Was it the matador? The bull?
Or Spain?
-The journey. The way you travel.
-Ah, that... It's a secret.
-Oh lahlah... This mean of transport, I know it well. I rode it before.
And it wasn't a suburban train, believe me!
Mr. Fouquet, I too was drinking once, and it sent me a little farther than Spain.
The Yangtse-kiang, You ever heard of it?
That's a huge thing, to fit into a single room.
-Sure. Two Jerez then?
-I don't drink anymore. I munch candy.
-And? Does it bring you far away?
-Always to China, but it's not the same place anymore.
Now it's more like a Chinese Antique shop.
And no way to sail down the whole Yangtse-kiang in one night anymore.
Some stretches here and there, but not every night.
The candies.... they clog the river.
Goodnight.
-Dad! -Yes?
-I believe I bloody missed my train for Madrid.
The man, who has dreams in his head, like yours...
won't fret over a missed train.
You know what you remind me of?
Of one of these lost monkeys...
like one comes across in the East, when it starts getting cold.
-And what happened to him?
-Nothing, he drank one too many.
-What did you talk about?
-About monkeys. Monkeys and monkeying about.
OK.
-Albert! Look at my daurades!
-Hi. Your red mullets, are they any good?
-They're reserved. I'm also reserved: Thanks for last night!
-What about it?
-Your client, your Spaniard: 12 broken glasses and you don't know?
-I forbade you to talk to me. That's 15 years ago!
If you don't want him to drink, don't serve him!
-Already enough drunks around here...
you don't have to bring them in from Paris!
-A drunk?
-I think so! Even Bardasse, with his 15 pastis a day was impressed.
-You muddle up my Spaniard, and your low-life lush...
'The Grand Dukes' and 'the guys that drink without thirst' ?
-The Grand Dukes?
-Yes, monsieur. The Real Princes of Boozeland, Lords!
Once you drank with them! But you are a petty drinker!
The Lords, they leave you to your foul deeds, you and your clients!
The Lords will beat you with 100.000 glasses. They drink with the angels!
-We guzzle by the gallons, but we don't behave like God the Father.
-That's exactly what I hold against you.
You're miserable drinkers... you don't deserve to drink.
The Spaniard drinks to forget... To forget about peasants like you!
How much for the whole bunch?
-300 francs by the kilo. -I reserved half.
-I'll take it all.
-Impossible to reason with you. -You're too big an asshole.
-Ah, at last.
-Monsieur.
-Oh, no! Bring me a Vichy water.
Hey, what's the talk in the house?
-About what? -Last night.
-Mr. Quentin never talks about that. For him, yesterday has gone.
-And today is the present. He's a man of reason.
OK, I'll come down.
-You're out of your mind, what do we need all that for?
-No idea, but I won't let Mr. Esnault fuck me over.
That guy, did he wake up?
Do you need something Mr. Fouquet?
-About last night... -What?
-Was I too much of a pain in the ass? -No, not too much.
-So much the better. We babbled a lot.
I always forget proper names, but I remember one from yesterday...
The Yangtse-kiang.
I can always remember complex words like...
'Anticonstitutional', 'dictation of Mérimée' or the names of the Pharaohs of Egypt.
I'll add the word: 'Yangtse-kiang' to those!
-There are some hours to chat and some hours to work.
-Me and the hours you know... So I didn't bug you?
-Don't worry, to bug me, you've to wake up early...
or to go to bed much later!
-Well, Mme. Quentin, spying on the amiable clientele?
You see, murderers like me always read the papers.
If you're wanted, you better stay informed.
All these composite photos! I have to change face every day.
Yesterday, the face of the man who drinks, but tomorrow?
-I see that you like to make jokes.
Would it bother you, if I walked a bit with you?
-Please do.
-Mr. Fouquet, do you plan to stay long with us?
My question may surprise you... -Your husband already asked this.
-What did you answer? -That I didn't know.
-You see, if you would stay for two or three days...
I wouldn't say this...
but if you plan to stay longer...
How can I explain this?
Last night, Albert told you about the Yangtse-kiang.
He shouldn't, it's bad for him.
You must think I'm crazy.
I shouldn't say it like this...
-'Mr. Fouquet: We have a happy marriage, leave us alone?'
-Is that the hard way? -Yes.
I hope you'll understand. Albert became an ideal husband.
I'm afraid that you will revive his taste for travelling.
He could think that you are going to China, without him.
-To Spain, madame.
-Excuse me? -For me, it's Spain.
See, now you can sleep in peace.
-Of course, if it is Spain...
I don't want to be indiscreet, but why did you come to Tigreville?
For a rest? For business?
-To buy something, You know a clothes shop?
-For a man or a woman? -For a little girl.
-You could go to Landru.
They call him like that, because of his beard and his two dead wives.
Go along the beach. Take the first street.
It's called 'Au Chic parisien'. -Thanks.
-Blanchette...
-Is anybody there?
-My Blanchette, You are naughty!
You escaped? That's not nice!
Rejoin your friends.
Did you want something?
-I'm looking for a warm sweater for a little girl.
-Little girl?
It's been quite some time I don't sell little girls clothing anymore.
How old? -She's ten.
-Large or small for her age? -I would say small.
-You do not say that to please me?
Because maybe I have what you're looking for.
Dear Monsieur, we have been waiting for you for 30 years!
-We?
-It and me.
Look at that.
-Still I'm afraid it's a bit too large.
-I knew you would say that. Everybody always thinks that.
You don't know Queensland wool?
-I don't, but I know my daughter. -Listen.
This sweater is not too large. Impossible.
Why? Because this was specially made for a dwarf.
Puppy Schneider! That name probably doesn't ring a bell?
-Don't think so. -You're too young.
Puppy Schneider! She was famous in the twenties.
An American millionaire saw her in a circus and fell in love at once.
Large men always like small women.
That man ordered the sweater made from a design by Van Dongen.
Then: The Wall Street Crash of 1929.
The millionaire killed himself.
Puppy returned to the circus, and the sweater stayed here.
I will tell you this: I don't sell commonplace goods.
-Puppy Schneider didn't wear this?
-I swear.
-Do you have other things a bit antiquated?
-Sublime things.
So try to guess, what it is, you're sitting on.
Don't get scared!
-Smart cat! Another order for Puppy's birthday.
One can light up a whole city with that.
Dear monsieur, it was a pleasure.
If one day, you would need something, whatever...
I really mean whatever...
-I wouldn't be as foolish as to go elsewhere.
Send the bill to hotel Stella.
-No hurry. Dear monsieur, it was a pleasure.
-You already close the store?
-You told me I should bring the bill.
I made a promise, now I'm fulfilling it.
-Gabriel! What a surprise!
Why are you bumming around on our borders?
-Do we know each other?
-Good heavens, you're even tighter than I thought.
I put you on the train. -Ah, last night...
Could you be so kind as to give this package to...
-Oh no, I would get in trouble. Go and report yourself over there.
-Concerning the train incident. Can I count on your discretion?
-No, You won't get away that easy, You'll pay for a round this evening.
-Monsieur, the servants are not allowed to accept a tip!
How can I help you?
-Please, give this to little Marie Fouquet.
-Follow me to the parlour.
Come in.
We're very pleased by your visit.
We were afraid, that the child was completely forgotten.
May I? We check all parcels. A symbolic verification, of course.
Marie is lucky, with a young father like you.
-Yes, but I'm not her father, I'm a distant cousin.
-Ah, I'm going to look for her anyway.
-No! I don't want to disturb her. -But this is such a special occasion.
It's Mme. la directrice.
-I didn't know she was English.
-She's not, she's only faking.
Ten years ago she decided to speak nothing but English.
Just to make an impression on the children's parents.
I had to learn it too, there was no other way.
The questions were in English. The answers in French.
-That's what destroyed Jeanne d'Arc. -You must be right.
For ten years I nursed Gal Marvier, hero of Bec d'Ambès...
And I closed the eyes of a senator-mayor of the Côte-d'Or.
My devotion made it possible for Magda Golovina to get back on stage.
Never my hardships were so extreme as with Mme. Victoria.
-Please wait for a couple of minutes.
-This year the Bordeaux was very popular.
Remind me to call Courtine.
-Albert, I hope you don't blame me...
but we live together for a long time now...
and at last you know certain things, by intuition.
-What?
-Nothing clear, it's only a notion.
The last 4 days, it seems you have changed.
Since Mr. Fouquet arrived you... -Ah, now it all becomes clear.
My dear Suzanne, you just made your first mistake.
There're women who confess that they have been unfaithful...
but you just confessed to me that you mistrusted me for 15 years.
Well, may be you're right: 'He who drank, will drink again!'
That's a proverbial truth.
Don't worry, I'm just kidding.
I have a careful wife, work that keeps me busy...
And candy, to take my mind off things...
I'm going to come off the candies as well.
-Why? If it's not a bad habit...
-Good habits don't exist.
A habit is like dying on the spot.
-Script for a commercial: Underwear and washing powder.
Ready?
In the scene, Richelieu... Of course, the cardinal.
He listens to a bearded Capuchin monk who whispers in his ear.
An athlete jumps from the wings, dressed in immaculate briefs.
He sends away his advisor and points at the athlete...
and declares: 'I thought that my eminence was gray...
but his has the whiteness of Persil.'
Yes, we still have to bring in some women, we'll see to that later.
2nd project: Lustucru pasta. Has to be animated.
A cat tries to force his way into a pot of spaghetti.
Appears Father Lustucru, armed with a ladle. Dialogue:
Father Lustucru: 'Down with those paws!' -The cat, with a smile:
'Down with those paws, except for pasta Lustucru.'
I count on you! Make the voice of Lustucru very low...
with a lot of reverb..
That's it, see you.
-It's a bit sad to watch a young man, all alone with his soup.
-When I invite him, you'll say that I'm plotting something.
-Let's not talk about that anymore. Monsieur Fouquet!
No more guests will show up now. Will you join us?
-With pleasure, dear madame.
May I? -Not that wine, you're our guest.
Marie-Jo, lay the table for monsieur Fouquet.
-When the devil must be expelled, do you invite him to your table?
-I don't know what you mean.
-Here, you have to taste this.
My wife will join you.
Marie-Jo! -Yes, monsieur?
-Please, open the bottle.
Either revolution, or paella...
in Spain nothing is simple.
A paella without shellfish is like: leg of lamb without garlic...
like a crook without a decoration, that wouldn't please the Lord.
When I was in love, I could make great paella.
I hope that my setbacks won't harm my cooking.
-Why do you drink?
-The question everybody asks, Mr. Principal.
-Probably by people, who like you.
-Probably.
Claire asked me 3 times a week, she must have adored me.
I thought you were an enemy of questions.
-Right, I prefer answers.
-That's curious, Claire also.
'Gabriel, you love me? Gabriel, why do you drink?
You think it's smart, to do this to yourself?'
Women dream of putting us inside an empty bottle!
-I think they're just scared stiff.
-of what?
I never became nasty, rather affectionate. ...Even grotesque.
Anyway, I had the charm of the unexpected. -...Ooh lahlah!
-There you're completely wrong. Women like reliable values.
Waiting for one man, and seeing a different one come along, they hate that.
And we must admit that the surprise is rarely pleasant.
Believe me, I've a lot of experience.
With your 36 ways of being drunk, you must have nauseated her.
-Could be.
-Well consider, it's none of my business.
Maybe I used my right of seniority.
-No harm done. I always looked younger than my age.
I have a daughter of 10 years old, though.
-Then you must be an idiot.
-Now, you get insulting.
-When one has a child, there're certain limits.
What's her name?
-Marie. I came here to pick her up. And then...
She's in a boarding school 'Cours-Dillon'.
Tell me, Mr. Quentin, since we started to be indiscreet,
in China, did you smoke opium?
-There's nothing indiscreet about it...
Oh yes, I did. In Shanghai, Hong-Kong...
Nothing special, it was just daydreaming.
-You don't like dreaming? -It depends on the quality of dreams.
Those were the dreams of a marine commando:
Admiral Guépratte embracing me,
or tea with a taste of anisette liqueur.
-And now?
-Sometimes I dream of smoking, must be the penopause.
There! The children of 'Cours-Dillon'.
Well, I leave you with the family.
-The bottle must go! Into the sea.
-You see, Mr. Fouquet...
one day, you'll end up dreaming that you're drinking.
-Marie Fouquet, stop that! Come here immediately!
Watch your manners, go play over here.
Let's go!
-two, three, four, five! I'm coming!
It's forbidden to hide in the bunker!
-What an idiot! -next time, we'll shake her off.
-Let her, That'll teach her.
Shall we go for it? -And if she's still there?
-Then we call her a cheat, and she will start to cry.
-They called him the Hustler.
Sly like a fox.
A guy without fear.
He knew all the tricks.
In the evening, on the boulevards...
you could see his moll stroll around.
All cried in different keys:
Hey, that's the Hustler's moll!
In those days...-they knew how to write a song!
Mr. Fouquet, your paella was splendid.
The lady who will marry you, will have all the luck.
-One can't attract a woman by culinary virtues...
nor by other virtues.
-I could appreciate an homage served on a platter.
If ever Albert would deign to cook for me...
I would consider that a love song... I've never seen him bake an omelette.
-From October 'till April, we're practically alone...
So you could say I'm cooking only to honor you, during this period.
-That's right. Beautiful, basically speaking.
Monsieur Fouquet, do you know La Bourboule?
-I don't think so. -That's where I met Albert.
He was on furlough.
He wore a stripe blazer and a straw hat with matching ribbon.
Nice looking guy and he knew it.
The Beguine just came en vogue. You remember Dranem's record?
'This is the Beguine, there's nothing sassier.'
-Suzanne! -There is no harm in it.
July, the mimosa in blossom, you wore ankle boots.
I remember like it was yesterday.
I would have liked an inn in the South, Albert was against.
He wanted to settle here, because of the bad weather.
So we'd have less customers. It's clear, he lured me into this.
Funny, you don't know La Bourboule. A nice guy like you!
-See? Booze makes her come to La Bourboule.
-Just between friends... If I'd tell you!
-Oh please! Mr. Fouquet hasn't any interest in our honeymoon trip!
-And you don't like a trip? You can't beat Albert.
He knows all the train schedules of Europe by heart.
-Stop it!
-Albert, be nice, show your schedules to Mr. Fouquet.
-He doesn't care about that. -Yes, he does!
-You see! He knows all of them. Even the short rides.
Listen, he has to go to Blangy tomorrow evening.
He already bought the ticket, made a reservation for the hotel.
Everything! Ain't that something? -I didn't know you'd leave.
-For two days. To visit my father's grave.
Will you still be here, when I get back?
-Well, have a good trip, Mr. Quentin.
-You leave already? -Yes, going for a walk.
-You'll miss this 30 year old Calvados I saved for you.
-I don't want to impede you any longer.
You'll leave tomorrow, it'll be a busy day.
Thanks for this excellent evening.
-We kept it simple.
-But in a family way.
-You offer him calvados, cheers! Fortunately he's wiser than that.
What's got into you? Calvados..!
If you wanted him to get drunk, you couldn't find a better way.
-Yes. I would have drank with him.
-Albert, you're not serious.
-Better you go to bed.
-First answer me.
-My dear Suzanne, you're a model wife.
You only have good qualities...
and you stayed more beautiful, than I could've hoped for.
It's pure happiness, conserved under a bell jar... But it pisses me off.
-Albert...
-You piss me off kindly, affectionately, lovingly...
...but you piss me off!
I don't have one foot in the grave yet, but soon.
And I realize, that I did not yet get my ration of the unexpected...
and I ask for some more. I want more!
-The unexpected? What may that be?
-Nothing, some alien notion. Let's not talk about it.
-When you really miss it, if you think about it too much...
you could have a little wine with your meal. Half a glass.
-Half a glass?
What I miss, is not the wine...
it's getting drunk.
Ich hoffe dass es dieses jahr nicht so sehr regnen wird...
-How are you? Germaine!
Clear the table. -And the breakfast of Mr. Fouquet?
-An aspirin will do.
-Where's Albert? -In the kitchen.
-Your Spaniard is at the crossroads! -Well, ain't that allowed?
-If he behaves like that!? It's a catastrophe!
-You're insane!
-Olé!
-For Gods sake, you're crazy?
-Olé!
-You're a sick person!
-Olé!
-Olé!
-I'm gonna rip you a whole new asshole!
-What's up?
-It's a shame... On All Saints day!
-fortunately my chauffeur hit the brakes!
-All for the best. Let's forget about it.
-We came on a pilgrimage, not for the circus.
-Well go, the road is clear!
-You're going to stand up for him?
-Can't you see he's not his normal self?
-Now, when do I get my bull's ears..?
-Couldn't you take a short intermission?
-Yo soy unico! I'm the best! -Shut up, mate.
-Olé, carabineros! Como va ustedes? Howdy!
-What's all this? -This asshole nearly...
...caused ten accidents!
-There was none! Just boozing around, nothing serious.
-Where's he come from? -He's my guest.
-That's not a reference. -You're not from here?
-And you sound like a Hick from the Sticks!
-The Sticks? I'm from the Aveyron! He must be drunk like a donkey!
Arrest him, We'll check his ID!
-My triumphal exit! Finally!
Look at me, you ungrateful audience and pluck out your eyes!
-'Fouquet Gabriel, born Paris, 18 May 1930.
-Address:
14 rue Lincoln, Paris 8th. Profession... '
-I tell you I am vouching for him, let it go.
Do that for me.
-Muchas gracias, Only, I am an adult...
-You're driving us nuts, I don't want to hear any more.
-Since we can't say any more, I'll wait for you outside.
-That's it, Go get some air.
He'll be gone tomorrow, And it will be forgotten.
-Alright, but take him home with you, So he won't hang around town.
Let that be a lesson to him. -Yes, or it means he's incorrigible.
-Hello, this is the Tigreville Police.
What? A bad traffic jam in Hennequeville?
-Well, what's your problem?
-I think I'm ashamed.
-You shouldn't be ashamed, when you've won such a bullfight.
-The second vehicle was a tough one, it charged from the left all the time.
-English cars always do. Come on.
-Where to? I'd like a drink.
Not for thirst, to cheer me up.
-OK, but not at Esnault's.
-Tell me. -What?
-Just what is your hang out?
Epicures will call it a whore house. Perverts say it's a Chinese restaurant.
-You go there often? -I used to.
-For what we expect to do there?
Do we hope for scum or Chinese?
-We hope it to be closed.
-Albert!
Back from the dead!
I am so pleased, may I kiss you?
-You may.
Let me introduce a matador. -Happy to meet you, monsieur.
-I can't guarantee he's authentic.
Not authentic here either, But with the Tibetan wind,
it creates the illusion.
Some nights, Behind this wall, I saw...
Not thought, I saw! I really saw!
A city, trolleys, crowds,
some drama...
-What may I get for you?
-What do you want? -I will trust you.
-You still make your own Sake?
-Of course.
-Ok, two of those.
-No reason to worry, but nobody saw Monsieur since this morning.
I went to Landru's, to the pastry shop, to Esnault's...
they've seen neither hide nor hair of him.
If he had an accident, We would know.
-Of course, we'd know.
What should I do with Mrs. suitcase?
-You can bring it back up.
-Mr. Fouquet has not eaten? -No.
-Perhaps they are together -Yes, perhaps.
-To Admiral Guépratte!
-To El Gallo, The Great Bald One!
-To the glory of the marine marksmen of the Far East!
-To Manolete, killed in Linares by the bull Islero.
-And that one,
To my buddy Gédéon, fallen in the booby trap of Long Son.
-To Joselito, the greatest of all!
-Keep it up, You're going to get drunk.
-We're on duty, it's the right thing to do.
What are you looking for?
-Claire, she was supposed to meet me at the bullring exit.
-If you drank faster, She'd already be here.
One thing leads to another, It's always like that,
Coincidence doesn't exist.
Ok, back to the station.
-Claire and I have invited you. -Watch out, new recruits.
I cashed in an old I.O.U .
-They paid you with a train ticket?
-Here, I give you the 'go to' and I keep the 'return'.
Do the same. -I can't.
-You don't trust me? -I don't have a ticket.
-That's not right, you should always have a ticket. Because you never know...
-I've spent my life making round-trips.
They call that unsettled.
-We're talking too much We're getting dehydrated, come on.
-Good night, Nice trip home.
-Madame, I was charmed. Positively charmed.
-China nights, nights of love...
-Fuck! It's night time!
-That's normal, it's the change of latitude. Let's go!
-CHINA NIGHTS, ROMANTIC NIGHTS, NIGHTS OF LOVE
INTOXICATING NIGHTS OF TENDERNESS
LA, LA, LA... TIL THE BREAK OF DAY
CHINA NIGHTS, NIGHTS...
-Nights of love.
-Getting tired?
I think that native maybe gave me some poison.
-I think you're out of practice. We can go home if you like.
-Look, kiddo, just because you thrust your sword at 2 or 3 cars...
I haven't done my share yet!
We'll show them what an old dude and a youngster can do.
-Who? -The creeps! Come on.
-CHINA NIGHTS,
ROMANTIC NIGHTS, NIGHTS OF LOVE
NIGHTS OF INTOXICATING,
TENDERNESS
WHEN WE MAKE LOVE TIL THE BREAK OF DAY
CHINA NIGHTS, ROMANTIC NIGHTS...
-Two calvas!
-Welcome, Albert.
I always figured: We'll see him again someday.
There you are, like the good old days. I feel as I am 20 years younger
-Que qui?
-Don't start again with your Spanish crap!
-If stupidity isn't reimbursed by Social Security,
you'll end up as poor as a church mouse.
-I'll show you a punch in the mouth!
-Don't be so disrespectful to my steersman!
You're not from the same family.
-If you have come,
to give me orders, I will kick you out from here.
-That's just a warning shot.
-Leave it to me!
-Leave, or I am calling the police!
-They shouldn't have released them!
-Leave them be, they're drunk.
-Yes, gentlemen, full to the brim!
You've been waiting a long time for this, eh? Well here it is!
There you go, you can gossip all winter long!
-Albert, I get sore eyes, just from the sight of them, let's go.
-You're right, we've nothing to do with ordinary Frenchmen.
-But the calva's, who'll pay for them?!
-Speak to the management, We pay no more,
we know no more, we salute no more.
-We scorn.
-Oh my God!
-Albert.
-What? -Your wife won't be pleased.
-No talk of women while on patrol. -Alright.
The wind is getting cooler. Have a place to anchor?
-Blangy, in the Somme. You must meet my father.
-Albert... -Now what?
-Blangy, I can't go there.
-You'll be taken as a deserter. Do you know where that leads?
-I can't leave here, Not alone, do you understand?
I have a mission. -A mission?
Now you're talking my language. What's it about?
-Shh.
I mentioned my daughter?
-Little Marie? -Yes.
Well, she's unhappy. I've got to take her away with me.
-Ok, let's get going.
-And here, as every night, is a broadcast from Jean-Michel Audiard,
We're dancing here!
-Albert, I can't go there like this.
-You can't, you can't! What the heck are you saying?!
-Will you shut up please?!
-It's a terrible thing, to get into such a state!
-At first sight...
the defense looks rather weak.
No need for a flanking maneuver We'll take them by force.
-It's not up to you, to take command It's my daughter....
-OK. OK.
Hey, you're fatter than you look!
I have an very big liver.
Turn in the other direction!
-Albert! -What?
-Look! -It's me, Christ
-Oh!
-Albert! Don't leave me!
-Hey, they're sleeping in there.
There's an alarm? An alarm!
They're waking up!
At last! Battle stations, inside!
Battle stations, I tell you, Inside!
Let's attack the fortification. Like in the Great War.
Well?! They're laughing at us?!
Believe me, their attitude hits me like a slap in the face!
If I had a howitzer 37, I'd make you jump over that fast!
-Stop, they're sending a commanding officer
-It's not too late.
-Is that you, Mr. Quentin? -An exceptional mission!
-Mr. Quentin, you should be ashamed!
-She thinks she's talking to her kids?
-Quartermaster Quentin, of the Far East Expedition Corps!
We've come to liberate this man's daughter!
Give her to her father!
-Her father? That's news to me!
It's not that recent!
-Hurry up!
Ah! The English are already inside! That explains everything.
-I'll show you how I handle them. -Don't bother, she is French.
-Like Colonel Lawrence was Arabian! Dastardly deed!
I know all your tricks.
-She said: 'See you tomorrow' -But that's Fachoda!
-Shall we consider a withdrawal? -Why not call it retreat?
I think this is like lowering the flag a bit to soon!
Dispatcher, go inform the command leader...
that we agree to put off this mission until tomorrow morning, no later!
If at 10 a.m. the girl is not at my headquarters with guns and baggage,
you will hear about us: 'the Hussars of Death!' That's an ultimatum!
Alright, Mr. Quentin, We will let them know.
-Maybe you have scared them a bit, But you've had some moments of triumph.
-Always. What a beautiful night, huh?
-I'd love to take you to Andalusia, the nights are blue.
Oh, in China as well, when you head south.
Don't you know what it would take?
You'd have to light all that up, Paint it all in red.
We still can't set it on fire, although....
-Let me recall....
A fairyland of light....
July 14th... A shop.
Where did I hear that? Because I've heard it and seen it.
'If one day, you would need something, whatever...'
A bearded man....at Chic Parisien!
-Landru. -That's it.
There's a chest full of rockets Enough to make Versailles jump.
-Give me a hug, mate! Ah, you make me feel young!
Nickel! Champion of the world!
-If your fireworks match your Beaujolais, they'll hear us in Le Havre.
-Explode... they will explode! I guarantee it, on my reputation.
It's 30 years old, but still good to go.
Signed, Ruggieri
We'll need to make 10 trips...
-Was ist das? You were never meant to do that without me
If only, for reasons of survival.
Pyrotechnics require great expertise...
And a trustworthy hand.
-Let's go, let's go Are we forgetting anything?
-Nothing! The plan is secure.
-23 firecrackers, 10 multi-colored star-bombs.
Magic fans, rotating flowers...
And a hanging garden!
-Gentlemen, this will be something out of Dante!
-We'll repaint their sky!
-Splendid!
-But it's not July 14th! -It's really fireworks!
-It's coming out of there.
Albert is playing the fool with firecrackers.
-Lucien! Where are you going? -Look at that!
-It look like Albert is on the beach!
Here come the Balubas!
-Is he crazy?!
-A green one now, Quentin!
-And a red one!
-Now a tricolor!
-Your move, dear friend.
-As this is meant to blow away the town, it's your native right to do so.
This native won't do a thing, You light it up first!
-At the Roman candles!
-Present, torch!
-On my order, fire!
To our dead soldiers! To our dead soldiers!
-Hong Kong, La Cucuracha, Singapore and 'The Little Tonkin Girl'
-Puerta del Sol!
The party's going on!
-Stop this joking around, I will lock you up!
They sent in the clowns!
-I told you to stop!
-Squealing, my friends, demands punishment. Give us some bombs!
-A great time for the artillery men!
-Charming Bluebeard, pass me the firecrackers.
-In the box -Haven't you anything better?
-Combat grenades aren't sold in shops.
-And that? -Watch out!
-It's explosive!
-For the last time I am asking you to stop!
-Evacuate the women and children, I am going to burn down the coastline!
-We will wipe Normandy off the map! Fire!
-The enemy is in flight, But a retreat is called for.
-Every man for himself! Me, I'm going for a swim.
-And us? -Let's sail down the Yangtze-kiang!
It's time to go back. -Go back where?
In cases of denunciation, Don't we hear the rooster crow?
-We'll talk about that later because I have a train to catch.
-Still going to Blangy?
-Yes, my father needs me there.
-Well, I will be there, not the greatest, but there.
-And you, going back to Paris?
-I have seen the sea, I can go no farther.
-France has always shown us the road to freedom.
Liberté, liberté, chérie in the words of your Victor Hugo.
These victims fell in the name of that freedom...
of the great, tragic battle, that played out on this beach.
Tragic, but glorious.
Let me thank you, especially...
Mr. the Mayor and the members of the counsel,
for the magnificent fireworks that have given our sacred meeting...
a luster that we will never forget.
From the bottom of my heart, I call out:
Long live the USA! Long live England! Long live France!
-Papa! I'm so happy!
Are you really taking me away? -Of course I am.
Oh, you are scratchy!
-Nobody kisses me, but I am scratchy too. I'm going to shave.
-Ah, ok, well....
I'll take the train of three p.m.
-Didn't know, what time you'd be back, so I've put your suitcase upstairs.
Yes, oh....
-Goodbye Madame Quentin. -Goodbye my little Marie.
-Goodbye madame. Thanks for everything.
-I will meet you on Tuesday, the 6 o'clock train?
-Of course. -Don't forget to change trains at Lisieux!
-Of course, don't worry. -I'm not worried.
I'm only sorry Marie didn't see the fireworks, it was marvelous!
-They won't see another one like that, before long. Goodbye!
-Are you changing trains soon?
You don't have time to tell another story?
-If you wish, but this is the last one.
And it's a true one.
In China, when winter cold comes.
In all the streets and towns, you see little monkeys wandering around.
We don't know if they come out of curiosity, or out of fear of the winter.
But people believe, that even monkeys have souls.
So they make sure they are brought back to their forest,
back to their way of life, back to their friends.
So you'll see trains full of little monkeys, going back to the jungle.
Ah, we're here.
Well, goodbye, my dear.
No, don't trouble yourself.
Ok, goodbye. -Goodbye.
-Papa, you believe he saw them, the monkeys in wintertime?
-I think he saw at least one.
-Lisieux! Travellers to Rouen, Azincourt, Blangy.
Change of train, Remain on the same platform.
Departure at 4:18 p.m.
And the old man went on his voyage into a long winter.
Subs by mackjay, reeltime and sebas.