- Let me go! Don't touch me! - Calm down!
Get her!
Separate them!
Get off me!
Separate them!
I will never forget that day of July 1942,
when the Krauts snatched Jewish children from their parents' arms.
It feels like yesterday.
I can still hear the children screaming.
It's the worst memory of my life. Savagery at its purest.
Excuse me, but...
You saw the Germans take the children away?
- The Germans? - Yes.
- Are you sure? - It was only 3 years ago.
I'm saying this because we don't know if it were the Germans
or the French police
who took those children.
I saw four German soldiers right in front of me.
And I heard the screaming.
Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to go.
Please, now!
Granted,
you heard the screams. But what did you actually see?
There was a lot of people. I didn't see everything.
I heard, and I was told things.
Everyone knows the Germans did it.
We're not asking you what everyone knows,
we're asking you to tell us what you saw. We are here
on behalf of the French people to find out what really happened.
- What really happened? - Yes.
What difference does it make if it's the police or the Krauts?
A FRENCH TOWN
BEHIND THE WALL
How have you been?
Hortense is not well.
She really isn't.
I hear her hair has grown back.
Yes, of course, but...
Is she testifying this afternoon?
She's supposed to.
Her testimony should clear me, according to Lévy.
It's good we hired a Jewish lawyer.
It makes a good impression, but...
is he going to fully defend me?
I mean, if I were Jewish,
I'd feel guilty about what happened.
- You don't feel guilty? - I'm a civil servant.
I followed orders.
I'm not proud of it,
but I don't blame myself.
I do feel guilty.
Typical of you.
You know,
you're actually my only friend.
I'm not your friend.
Really?
Well, I am your friend.
Servier, we went through awful things together
and I respect you, but...
That's not what a friend is.
Because...
you do have friends?
No.
Maybe you're just unable to see them.
How come you have stockings?
Do G.I.s wear these now?
It's for the officers' wives.
Or rather, their lovers.
They're good quality, at any rate.
Sure they are. They're American.
But they're expensive.
Very expensive.
How much?
One thousand dollars for the stockings,
corned-beef, chocolate and bourbon.
You're pushing it, Tom.
What if we ratted you out to the military police?
Are you threatening an officer of the U.S. Army?
He's only kidding.
French humor!
One thousand sounds fine.
We'll get three times that.
Who asked you, skeeter?
Stop it.
He's right.
To fuck up the business?
Go outside and keep watch.
It's more suited to your abilities.
It's not bad at all.
- Daddy? - What?
I forgot my notebook.
I can't believe it, Gustave!
Yesterday, your penholder. Today, your notebook.
I don't have time to go back home.
The teacher's going to tell me off.
I'll get a bad grade.
I don't have time to go back.
Mom's gone. You need to take care of your things.
The cops are outside. Tom snitched on us.
What's that nonsense?
- They've been there for an hour. - How do you know?
Some guy's pretending to be washing his car.
They were waiting for Tom to go out.
Police! Open the door!
Get out. I'll stall them.
- You'll turn us in! - Shut up and go.
Open up, in the name of the law!
Not too tight.
Are you eating out again today after the meeting?
A mayor must eat with the council members.
It's civic duty.
Civic duty takes all the blame. And all the food, apparently.
Bad night's sleep?
My room is poorly insulated. I was cold.
I'm often cold these days,
especially now the heater's broken.
- I love you madly. - I don't.
Why stay with me, then?
For Françoise?
Not only.
For social standing?
Not only.
What's the reason, then?
Because with you, I know I'll always be warm.
- Mr. Mayor! - Mr. L'Herbier.
Won't you say hello to Mrs. Richard?
I can't say hello to everybody.
Mrs. Richard.
Do you have a problem with women in politics?
Not in the least. In fact, you will be talking first.
I declare Villeneuve town council number 171 open.
Shall we start with general matters?
Mrs. Deputy Mayor for Housing, madam,
you may take the floor.
We have 1,313 applications for assistance.
What do we tell people?
There are no more units.
We're housing over 1,800 people - three families per apartment.
There is an unsubstantiated rumor
that former members of the resistance
have a bit of an edge. - Outrageous.
75,000 executed...
Are turning in their graves, I know.
What do we say to those who want to turn in their beds?
The Résistants and their families are indeed a priority,
but no more than FTPs and FFIs.
I have a list with labels...
Please, no. Good grief!
And the construction huts?
Half of the first 200 are regularly flooded out.
We'll have 150 new ones, only in six months.
Give me at least one piece of good news.
Good? I don't know. Funny? Certainly.
Go ahead, make us laugh.
Well, it seems that two mislaid lovers
met at the cemetery last night.
And then, in the middle of the action, crack!
They bumped into an unexploded shell.
Most likely from the August bombing.
2,500 kg. Heavy duty.
We will have to evacuate 10 graves
to defuse the shell safely.
Even the dead are suffering from the housing crisis.
Mr. Prefect, what a surprise!
Sorry to bother you. An unexpected event compels me to.
The Council of State has invalidated the Villeneuve local election.
What?
The ruling will be announced later.
Members of the Communist Party had filed an appeal,
claiming that the first-time female voters
had not been properly informed on their rights.
Women in politics, Mr. Mayor.
Or should we say, ex-Mayor.
Have some self-restraint. The situation deserves it. Thank you.
Elections will be held as soon as possible,
knowing that the legal minimum for the first round is 6 weeks.
Thank you very much.
Wonderful news!
Congratulations!
I need you to set this up. Do whatever it takes.
The lists must be formed.
What are you gonna do after?
I'll marry Geneviève.
What if she didn't wait?
That's nonsense.
She didn't reply to your last letter.
It surely got lost.
Our letters don't go missing.
Either it's hers that got lost,
or mine.
And so she didn't respond.
How come you always stay optimistic?
I don't know.
I was born this way.
I always think everything's gonna turn bad.
And then it turns bad.
Stupid thing to say.
But it's true.
Well... Let's assume that Geneviève didn't wait for you.
In my opinion, she's not the patient kind.
What do you do?
Sniper!
Fernand! Fernand!
Nurse!
Nobody moves until we find the piece of shit!
What did I tell you?
Has Antoine eaten well?
Yes. Thank you.
Has he ever worked in a farm?
No.
You could address me directly. Call me "you".
Anyway, it's up to you.
Does he want to be useful?
Gran, he's just got here. Leave him alone.
Life is short, Geneviève.
You know them, I believe.
Not Darnand.
He was the best of us.
You promised we wouldn't talk about this.
Another slice of bread?
No, thank you.
But it's very good.
The Yanks pay for the milk in dollars,
and we do what we want with that money.
Before, it was the marks.
You intend to marry my granddaughter,
if I understand correctly.
Yes.
What is your situation?
I'm demobilized.
How are you gonna make a living?
Gran.
I'll go to town.
There's nothing there
but refugees and beggars.
And the dumb bureaucrats who say it's gonna get better.
Listen...
I created and headed a maquis of 200 men.
I did the 11th of November parade.
I'll certainly find a job.
You can't blame me for what happened at the school.
I resigned because of it.
But you went back three days later, didn't you?
Can I ask him a question?
Go ahead.
Do you remember I asked you to get us out of there?
Yes.
You offered me money, and I refused.
As a result, my wife and children were gassed at the camp.
And you say you're not to blame?
The jury will be my witness. Would it have been fair
to let them go because they had money, and not the others?
Is that moral?
You didn't let anyone go.
Everybody at that school died! 140 men, women and children!
Except for me and a couple more. That's a nice moral!
I didn't know they'd die.
No! By saying that you kill them a second time!
I did not know!
- That is not true. - Gentlemen, please!
These men might be sentenced to death.
Show some dignity, please.
Servier had promised that we wouldn't go to Poland
but to local projects.
Larcher was his accomplice.
Both of them deserve to die!
Order, please.
Thank you, Mr. Goldmuntz, but you're not a judge,
you're a witness, so if you don't mind...
Please. The incident is over. Thank you.
Right. We're not going to spend all day on the Jews.
As for Mr. Larcher, I'd like us to address
the core of the accusation.
I'm referring to his status as an informant of the Germans,
which is attested by Exhibit 177A.
The defense calls Hortense Larcher.
Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?
Raise your hand and say, "I swear."
I swear.
What is your relationship to Daniel Larcher, here present?
I've been his wife since 1936.
What can you tell us about your husband's links
with the German police?
He had none.
Other than... the normal relationship
between a mayor and the forces occupying his city.
Daniel didn't like the Germans. He's a patriot.
May I question the witness?
Please, proceed.
Mrs. Larcher is a witness called by the defense,
and will most likely favor her husband.
Mrs. Larcher,
are you aware of a document
signed by the head of the SD,
that describes your husband as their informant?
Yes.
Yet, you said that he had no connection
with the German police.
Is it a fake document?
No, it's authentic,
but it doesn't match the reality.
That's odd for an SD chief!
He was mistaken about who his informants were.
Get to the point, Mr. Prosecutor.
You know I was the mistress of Heinrich Müller, head of the SD.
Daniel had been arrested
for acts of resistance
and imprisoned with his brother Marcel,
who was later executed.
I asked Mr. Müller to do everything he could to get Daniel out of jail.
Hence this document.
What a beautiful story.
- It's the truth. - Unfortunately,
we'll have to believe you, since Heinrich Müller is dead.
So, gentlemen of the jury, let's sum up:
on the one hand, we have an indisputable and undisputed
historical document,
which establishes that Daniel Larcher was an informant of the SD.
On the other hand, we have his wife's word
- who, at the time, was Müller's lover
but has since come back with her husband -
telling us that her husband
is a brave man, a patriot.
Who shall we believe?
I don't think it was Tom who turned us in.
That'd be too much of a risk.
Then, who?
Someone trying to outwit us.
You mean, me?
That'd explain your miraculous intuition.
What would I win?
If they caught us, you'd take over the business.
Jérôme would see you in a good light.
- Why wouldn't it be you? - You piss me off!
It was neither one of you.
As for Tom, we'll see.
We've lost everything.
No. I picked a few things.
You're a thief. You took it, it's yours.
We'll share it.
A couple of cans won't get us back on our feet.
What do we do?
We'll shake down the businessmen. That's all I can think of.
Big ones first. If they pay, everybody will.
Feel like going, Gustave?
Why him?
He did a nice job this morning.
And we need to put the low-grade staff to the test.
We got screwed over. We should've seen it coming!
We have no one at the Council of State.
But you'll be re-elected anyway.
There's no way you're gonna lose 12 points.
Working on a campaign again...
Besides, people are unhappy. At this point, anything could happen.
You'll win. I am committed to it.
If I lose, do I hang you or shoot you?
Both.
- Mr. Ex-Mayor. - Ex and future.
- The people will decide. - They already have.
Yes, but they see you're doing nothing.
I'm sorry, I stupidly thought we were working together.
Gentlemen.
Sign there.
Chief of Police, sir.
Mr. Prefect.
- Mr. Mayor. - Ex.
- Really? - And future, rest assured.
Have you heard about the shell at the cemetery?
Of course.
Did you know Étienne Charron?
- Who? - Étienne Charron.
The name sounds vaguely familiar.
What about him?
We're gonna have to move his grave.
And the problem is?
There's no record of him in the civil registry.
The burial permit is illegible. No family, no friends.
What happens if the family can't be found?
Nothing. Just defuse the shell.
There you go.
I strongly object.
As usual. And why would that be?
The family of the deceased must be seriously sought.
There's nothing on him.
If the family realizes that nothing has been done
to find him, they might take legal action, sue the city, and get
a large compensation.
Make sure we can say we did the right thing.
You can no longer give orders.
Do what Mr. Bériot tells you, and let us proceed.
Have a seat.
You like stirring shit up, don't you?
- I'm a representative... - No.
You're just someone who wastes everybody's precious time.
The regional prefect says the first round of the election will take place
on December 16.
Second round, the 23rd.
- It's too close to Christmas. - You are here to be informed.
Until then, the administration of Villeneuve
will be carried out by a commission that I will chair.
So, the two candidates of the second round,
as well as four advisors that I will choose myself.
There.
The campaign starts tomorrow. Any questions?
Thank you, gentlemen.
Did you enjoy seeing me humiliated?
For my first public outing...
I don't think you were humiliated.
Right. You've no idea what it's like.
I was there, Hortense.
The prosecutor and his hints,
the judge with his fake kindness,
and the way people were looking at me.
They were intrigued.
That's all.
You can't understand. No one will ever look at you that way.
You know, I'm sure it was hard for you.
Very hard, even.
But I'm risking my neck.
You're not. Otherwise, they wouldn't let you go home at night.
You're wrong.
That's a favor I owe Bériot.
There are two policemen outside.
The black car.
Is that true?
My lawyer says my case is not looking well.
Listen.
- Did you hear that? - No.
Listen up.
The guy speaking?
That's our neighbor, the optician.
He must be talking about me.
We're too far. It's unintelligible.
But we can grasp a few things.
There...
"Tense".
I heard that "tense" this morning, too.
What words are there with this syllable?
"Tense"...
"Intense".
"Existence".
You don't want to hear.
- They're talking about me. - Who cares if they are!
I want him to stop.
Can you talk to him?
Can you?
You could talk to him. No fuss. You just...
You just go and tell him,
"Sir...
"My wife is tired. She doesn't like to be talked about".
I can't do that.
Why not?
We're not sure they're talking about you.
- What if we were sure? - Hortense...
Answer me.
I don't know.
I won't consider it since we are not sure.
But they're talking about me.
It's all right.
Do you think they'll counter-attack?
I hope they don't.
We're all whacked.
Damn, my neck hurts!
I'd give up my right arm just for an hour's sleep.
There's no more supplies, and now we're out of cigs.
I could kill that general staff idiot who said the area was quiet...
Any news of Tintin?
Yes.
We lost him on the field.
Six men since Monday.
Write to his parents. You're good at that.
Sir,
the PC group...
wants the prisoners in Alpha Bravo.
Alpha Bravo?
The area's full of Krauts.
We can't get killed to transport them.
I told them that.
Tell them we're doing everything we can.
There's nothing you won't do at war!
Go. I'll take care of them.
Armistice has been signed...
The war is over.
You're free to go...
Go home!
They tried to escape. Go tell the PC that we're sorry.
Yes, sir.
The war is certainly over for them now, anyway.
What're you thinking?
That it's still there.
I love you.
I love you too.
When will we get married?
As soon as I find a job.
At the farm?
No?
No.
Too bad.
Your Honor,
I'd like to question the defendant on his personal life and his family.
We went through it at the beginning of the trial,
and the jury didn't need any further details.
There are still a few points that should be explored in greater depth.
Is it related to the charges you will bring against him?
Let's just say... it sheds some light.
I assume it's about his brother, Marcel.
No.
About his son.
What is all this?
Mr. Larcher,
you have a five-year-old son, don't you?
Did you hear the question? Do you have a son?
Yes. Yes...
I adopted him in 1942.
His name is Tequiero. Is that right?
Yes.
For those who are not multilingual,
te quiero means "I love you" in Spanish.
Funny name for a French child.
His mother gave him that name
when I adopted him.
I thought it was the right thing to keep it.
What a noble heart!
Do you know his father?
Have you met him?
Are you Dr. Larcher?
May I come in?
We're waiting for an answer, Mr. Larcher.
I saw him once.
Interesting! And in what circumstances?
Mr. Larcher.
He came to my house.
He claimed to be the father, but he was...
a fugitive prisoner.
Alberto Rodriguez, a hero of the Resistance,
executed by the Germans in 1943.
He was indeed Tequiero's father, of course.
- I couldn't know. - Let's recap.
Good doctor Larcher, this great patriot,
lets a woman die in childbirth.
Not true!
He steals the baby,
adopts him...
You're wrong.
...by means of false declarations in 1942,
and, taking advantage of it,
he has the father killed by his friend,
Heinrich Müller.
There it is.
Such is the truth about Mr. Daniel Larcher,
ladies and gents.
A German police officer
that steals a child
and drives his dad...
No.
...to his death.
What a nice surprise!
Chief of Police, sir.
You're back?
- Since yesterday. - Demobilized?
I'm looking for a job.
- At the station? - Why not?
We're not hiring. I'd say it's the opposite, even.
Antoine. Well, well!
- What brings you here? - He needs a job.
A scarce commodity nowadays.
You must have an idea, though.
Maybe you could try delivering newspapers door-to-door.
It doesn't pay much and the hours are hard, but...
Yeah.
Well, I...
I'll see.
- Thanks. - You're welcome.
Good luck, Antoine.
They're not made for peace.
I got your message. What's the matter?
- Étienne Charron. - Did you find his family?
No, but the night watchman at the cemetery said that....
What?
That your wife must know who he is,
since she brings flowers to his grave every Tuesday at 6 AM.
Ah, yes! I remember him now.
He's her distant cousin.
He was wounded and died at home. Étienne Charron...
Yes, of course.
Étienne Charron. Absolutely.
We can ask Mrs. Bériot to sign the release.
I could sign it myself. I'm her family by marriage.
Here.
And here.
"Read and approved".
There you go.
- Plan C. - Excuse me?
C, as in Charron.
Goodbye.
How could you do such a thing? Are you crazy?
What?
What you do every Tuesday at 6 AM.
You are the wife of Deputy Mayor Bériot.
It's not that hard to understand.
- I also have a heart. - And a brain, I believe.
You love whoever you want, just do it discreetly.
I am discreet.
Oh, really? It'll make headlines tomorrow.
I forbid you to go back there.
Did you hear me?
No more public demonstrations, is that clear?
I need you to swear it to me, Lucienne.
Or it's the mass grave.
- No! - Then swear it to me.
OK, listen...
Once a year, at All Saints' Day, no flowers.
Mass grave, Lucienne.
I swear.
Maquis of Villeneuve!
On my command! Forward march!
Thief!
Anselme?
Your pants...
Where's...
your other shoe?
I lost it...
shooting craps...
with some guy.
A cheat, by the way.
Weren't you in Germany?
I left three days ago.
The war is over.
It depends against whom.
Buy me a drink.
You've had enough drinks, don't you think?
Maybe we could...
talk a little,
have a bite to eat.
I don't want to talk.
I'm thirsty.
What will we do after we drink?
We'll talk. Come on!
How long have you been coughing?
Since June.
Pull out your tongue.
How's your appetite?
I'm not really hungry right now.
Sit down, I'll listen to your breathing.
Wait, I'll be right back.
You could've brought him sooner.
We've been very busy at the farm.
Is it serious?
I don't know.
- I need my stethoscope. - Wait.
Now she's talking.
Hortense.
There.
It's amazing how well you can hear!
I could do this all day.
I have a patient waiting.
"Robert doesn't know, but I'm running out of leather tickets".
- Hortense... - Shush!
"We should trade some wire on the black market".
Larcher.
Really?
"We got a couple of meters left".
Yes, that's good news.
Thank you for calling.
"Or we can ask Roger.
"He has a solution to everything".
Heinrich Müller was found in Germany.
The Americans took him prisoner.
Another one.
At the station, she told me she was sorry,
but that for the past two years she had been....
in some sort of relationship... with her cousin.
Her childhood sweetheart, I believe.
"You've been gone too long", she said.
How awful.
She's right. I was gone too long.
More than three years.
I've always been faithful.
But my daughters, dammit!
I was so drunk that...
I think I scared them.
Even my youngest.
She looks just like me.
Valentine.
I lost her picture, too.
How do you intend to...
To live?
I have no idea.
That lawyer took all the money I had.
And I still owe him, even.
- Are you gonna pay? - Yes.
Hey, Toto, do you know who you're talking to?
- Antoine, chief of the maquis. - It's OK.
While you were getting rich out of the black market,
he was saving France!
- You, bastard! - Stop it.
Is there a problem?
No, no problem at all.
Stop!
- The boss is not here? - No.
- I have a message. - Go ahead. I'll give it to him.
Tell him in these dark times,
his business needs protection.
1,000 francs a week, payable in advance.
By the way, I'll get a supply.
- Where's the safe? - No.
The safe!
Open it, bitch!
It's the company's!
- Open it! - Put the gun down!
Put it down!
- Call the police. - Yes.
So you're a racketeer now? If Marcel saw you...
Police?
Who's sending you?
Hello? Loriot?
A jerk here tried to give me a shakedown.
Can you send someone?
The SFIO obviously supports us, and the MRP votes...
Go to the highest bidder. I know my Pierre Dac.
The posters are a tricky problem to solve. Scarcity...
Edmond and the commies have printers, though.
They'll obviously make posters.
- Right. Goodnight, Hector. - Goodnight.
Lucienne Bériot: Kraut girl Étienne Charron: Kurt Wagner
Subtitles: ECLAIR