All language subtitles for Baron.noir.S01E01.1080p.BluRay.DTS.x264-SbR_track4_eng

Hey.

We've travelled thousands of miles,

by plane, train and car,

and here we are...

about to play double or nothing.

Francis, there's no easy answer.

You can be stately like the Sphinx,

or you can beat him to a pulp.

-Either way, they'll say I'm arrogant.
-So what?

As usual...
Arrogant, condescending and pretentious.

-That's marvelous!
-How so?

If you're the best,
you can't be modest.

That's impossible.
People want a leader.

-What's on for tomorrow?
-Your last meeting is in Rouen.

-Do I stay over?
-Rouen's nice, isn't it?

Yeah, yeah...

You're in a 3-star hotel,
right off the highway.

But it's secluded, in a small park.

Renovated in 2004 and run since 1971
by Ginette Sweetheart.

Ginette Sweetheart?
You're kidding, right?

I'm sure I'm pretty close.

That'll be fine.

-Time to go, partner.
-Let's go.

There's Francis.

Good evening.

You're still the President
during the debate.

If he attacks on that front, let him.

No, he just got here.

I can't talk.
I'll call you back.

-How are you, Cyril?
-Good, and you?

-Good luck, Mr. Auzanet.
-Same to you.

-Welcome, Mr. Laugier.
-Hello.

Were you with Francis?

-Did you mention proposition 17?
-No.

You couldn't care less
about what I say.

You don't talk numbers
before an election debate.

-What do you talk about?
-You try to relax.

This isn't about politics now.

It's just two men,
a winner and a loser.

-That's so Darwin.
-Totally.

6... 5... 4... 3... 2...

Good evening.
Welcome to the 2nd round debate,

a Fifth Republic institution,
and the highlight of this election.

-Hello, Romain.
-Hello, Wendy.

Good evening, everyone.
Gentlemen...

Francis Laugier, Jean-Marc Auzanet,
welcome.

Before we get started
with the debate,

how is your state of mind?

Mr. Laugier, the vote is in 5 days.
How are you feeling?

We have to talk.

Confident, and very pleased
to participate in this debate.

Eager to discuss our programs
with our fellow citizens.

-What's up?
-Go outside.

-Grab someone's phone.
-What?

Make something up.
Say your mom's sick.

Call this number.
Say I'm on my way.

-He'll understand. Go!
-OK, I'm on it.

I have relentlessly criticized
your job cuts, Mr. Auzanet.

-How many?
-Excuse me?

-How many job cuts?
-Don't accuse me without facts.

You've cut countless jobs.

-It's common knowledge.
-I'm asking you how many?

You don't know the numbers.
Just admit it.

Truthfully, I hate numbers,

Mr. Auzanet.

You can't govern properly
on the basis of numbers.

I believe the French want to elect
a President,

not an accountant.

Perhaps if you hadn't spent
the past 5 years

looking over numbers,

you wouldn't have lost sight
of the people.

Without numbers,
you can't embody the nation's future.

43,000.

43,000 layoffs.

It's a first since 1945.

You wanted numbers.

I'm warning you...

Your phone!

Stop it! Shit!

-You're mad!
-I'm listening.

The fraud squad is about to arrest you.

Dammit!

-Why?
-The Dunkerque Housing Board.

Six cars were sent to search at 6 AM.

They're waiving your immunity
and bringing you in.

-Just me?
-You're the target.

But the Treasurer comes too.

-Joel Domfront?
-Maybe.

-Young union guy?
-That's him.

-What's the source?
-I don't know.

I'm only back-up on the case.

Thank you both.

I have seven hours.
To clean up the Housing Board.

I need cash to fill the hole.
The campaign cost a lot.

-Who's the guy who warned you?
-A friend, a cop.

A good Northern guy.
A Socialist.

And he'd risk his career
for his party?

Look at Auzanet...
He spent 20 minutes on the economy.

What a bastard!

Who can help us out tonight?

We close in the red.
You know it.

One of your CEO backers?

No, that's too risky.

What's your plan?

I'll sort out the cash myself.
It's safer that way.

You shouldn't be in the loop.

Your mind should be focused
on changing the country.

Our minds...
I'll be President, you'll run the Party.

-Forget this.
-Thanks, Philippe.

Forget about it!

Philippe Rickwaert
MP NORTH DEPARTMENT

The Socialist candidate was aggressive,

repeatedly referring to Auzanet's
social and economic results

as a "double failure".

CLAMEX ON STRIKE

Something's gotta give.

-It's empty!
-I told you so. Late payments.

-How much is missing?
-A lot...

Joel, how much is "a lot"?

-100,000... 120,000...
-Which is it?

-120,000...
-We need to find cash.

In the middle of the night?

-Is this yours?
-Mine's this one.

Here?

Is that it?
No numbers at home?

No paperwork?

Burn it all. Destroy it.
Get rid of everything,

far from here.
The cops are coming.

I saw you with a laptop
at headquarters.

Smash it.

-Go home and smash it.
-OK.

What do I tell the cops?

-Say you were getting spam.
-Like a virus?

You were taking it in,
and it was stolen from your car.

Get to work!
I'll sort out the cash.

Vero, I need to see you.
Come to my place.

OK, I'm on my way.

What's up?

I had a fight with Mom.
I left you messages.

Salome, you can't come here
whenever you fight.

You try watching the debate
with a right-wing guy!

My step-father's a total jerk.

Now's not the time.
Go to bed.

I smell cigarettes!

-What's wrong?
-We need to find cash.

Ask for 10,000.
Don't accept less than 4,000.

If anyone sees me selling electronics...

-I'm the mayor.
-Paris can't help?

I can't involve Francis.

-Someone leaked.
-Not now.

This won't bring much.
What's your plan?

My brother'll know who to ask.

He'll ask his boss.

I don't give a damn who it is!

It's not so simple.

Stop it!
We don't have time for this.

Hi.

I should start the conversation.

No, Bruno.
I'll do the talking.

Hello, Mr. Mayor.

Hi, Gerard.

-How much?
-120,000.

Looks like your brother's in trouble.

Philippe, tell him...

You want a drink?
Get me a drink.

Politics, huh?

A dog-eat-dog world!

Can you help me or not?

I'll see what I have.

You said it's "political".

Explain.

You think I can't understand?

You know the Housing Board?

Low-income housing.
16,000 apartments in the area.

It's been under Party control
for 30 years.

Debt is ignored for the people
who become members.

-Of what?
-The Party.

They vote as they're told.

In the primaries,
they all voted for Laugier.

Over time,
given the tenants' income level,

the shortfall grows.

So we fill it up,
we make the bosses pay.

Construction, elevators, security...
whoever holds public contracts.

They pay partially in cash,
to fill the hole.

We say our tenants pay in cash.

Bosses paying rent for the poor...

Sounds like Robin Hood!

The money also goes towards
campaigns and meetings.

Right now, in the current context,
we spent a lot. We're suffering.

-Audits scare us...
-So you need money.

Exactly.

Normally, you'd steer clear of me.

But you thought, in this case...

"He's good for filling holes, right?"

So let's fill holes.

-I'm overdrawn.
-Dammit!

-Why my card?
-I can' t use mine. I'll explain.

-Explain now!
-I'm sorry.

Vero!

I'll explain tomorrow.

Here's 70,000.

You don't care where it's from?

Funny, I care about you...

Ask your brother.

I'm always asking about you.

It'll be fixed in a week.

That's all, Mr. Mayor?

Thank you, Gerard.

Look, it's Ginette Sweetheart.

85,200.

Plus Balleroy's 70,000
and 8,000 from Paris.

-There's only 7,000.
-Recount!

-You're kidding...
-Now! They'll be here in 2 hours.

We're still missing almost 34,000.

-I only got 3,000.
-Better than nothing.

-How's he going?
-Fine, he's a trooper.

You sure?

-You don't need me?
-No, rest up.

All this dirty money...
I don't get it.

Get what?
What don't you get, Joel?

I know...

The primary,
the presidential campaign...

So you do get it.

Yeah...

What don't you understand?

Joel, I'm asking you a question.

You think I'm a thief?
That I stole it?

You want to talk about morality?
Fine, sit down.

What do you want to know?
Go ahead.

I'm not accusing you.

I took you in
when you were in trouble.

You know me.

You know my life, my family.

Am I driven by money?

I apologize.

We stole nothing.
We're activists.

We get dirty to help others.

We do good.
We can be proud of ourselves.

-How are we...?
-That's the real question.

Why is this happening
right before the 2nd round?

It's a smear campaign
by the Conservatives.

Right, it's a political move.
We can't retaliate politically.

It's all about nailing Laugier and me.

We're playing for the presidency.

I can't be in the picture.

No ties to the board.
This can't come back to me.

But you're the administrator!

That's not an operational job.

I'm not the accountant.

It could be a one-man job.

-Are you suggesting...?
-You're the Treasurer.

You have access to accounts,
files, the safe...

Maybe they have witnesses...

Who cares?
As long as they have no proof.

Nothing to build a case on.
You'll be great.

You'll drive them crazy.
They'll hate their job.

We've no choice.
If the Left loses, we go down.

You have to sacrifice yourself.

If you take the blame,
this goes away.

No impact on the elections.

-I don't want to go to jail.
-You won't.

Not for 30,000.

Especially if we win.

Not if we're in power.

It's a political move, like I said.
To discredit us.

They don't give a damn about you.

Use your head!
Don't be scared.

What do I tell my parents?

What are you doing tomorrow?

I'm going to the union office
in the morning.

Do as you planned.

What if we lose?

At most,
you'll get a warning and a fine.

We'll cover it.

What's my motive?
You've seen my lifestyle.

-You gamble.
-What?

You're a compulsive gambler.

It won't stand up.

People know I don't bet.
Not even a game on my phone.

Exactly, to avoid temptation.

You play for money, which is different.
You're ashamed.

Like a guy who drinks in the car
before going home.

I know what you're thinking.

I doubt it...

You're thinking of the past...

You had faith, strength and courage...

You still do.

Come on, son.

They're only cops.
We are activists.

You'll need to be strong tomorrow.

Come on. It'll be OK.

-Your Honor.
-Hello.

-Take it.
-OK, I will.

Fine.

Domfront isn't home.
Let's find him.

You guys, come with me.

Excuse me.

Joel...

Are you OK?

I'll be fine.

You really have to go to Clamex?

The media's already there.

So what?

Should I be ashamed
that Joel was my friend?

He hadn't even seen the cops.
Everyone will think he's guilty.

You want people to know
you drove him home at 6 AM?

You'll turn the spotlight on you,
Laugier and the Party.

4 days before the election?
Remember, you're the target.

I'll go. You talk to that cop.

Find out what they have.

-It'll be OK.
-Yes, it will.

Let's go.

-Hello?
-We need to talk.

Damn cop!

Stephane, I haven't forgotten.
I have no news.

When will Rickwaert speak?

Hold on one second. I'll call you back.

-Mr. Rickwaert's office.
-It's me. How's it going?

The media's been calling.
They're waiting for your statement.

I keep saying you'll call back.

Tell them I'm in mourning.

Where should I tell them you are?

You don't know.
I'm mourning.

They want Laugier's reaction too.

-In Rouen? Let them go there.
-No, on the Housing Board.

His people say he'll speak out tonight.

-What? And say what?
-That's why I'm asking you.

Wonderful!

Neck-and-neck, no?

Excuse me.

Is Francis there?

Yes, Philippe.

I'll take it.

Here he is.

-It's me.
-We need to meet.

I'm leaving now.
I'll be in Rouen in 3 hours.

Find some time before your meeting.

-You'll mention the Housing Board?
-I've no choice.

You have to keep quiet!

Watch your tone of voice!

Are you turning on me?

-Oh, stop it!
-What'll you say?

Just the usual.

That justice must take its course
and that I have no further comment.

If you do that,
you're admitting there's an issue.

You'll justify the search,
and make us both look guilty.

-Attack Auzanet.
-Attack him with what?

Shouldn't he have to justify
a pre-election search?

It depends on the proof!

There is no proof.
I cleaned up myself.

With Joel's death,
Auzanet is already backing down.

Look at me.

-Am I in custody?
-This is what he wants.

For us to say he's rigged the election.

So he can show his proof and destroy us.

Did you see the BVA poll?

The IFOP poll is worse.
I couldn't look.

It's only a matter of hours.

I'm meeting my cop later.

-We can't decide without the file.
-Will he hand it over?

He has no choice.
He's in it up to his neck!

When do you see him?

8 PM, once he's in Paris.

8 PM? That's too late.

Is there the slightest chance
this could lead back to me?

Not the slightest.

-No documents, no recordings, nothing?
-None.

-And the search?
-I counted myself.

-How much is missing?
-Francis...

Sorry, but I have to insist.

-This is hard for me.
-Not a single euro is missing.

What if they do find something
between you and the Board?

It'll just be about me.
I know what I'm doing.

I know the risks and I accept them.
It won't happen.

Last night,
the Socialists were celebrating

Laugier's lead in the debate.

But they have woken up to a nightmare.
Hour by hour...

Not now.
I'll call you later.

-Who is it?
-Wrong address.

Shit!

The Conservatives put Laugier
under added pressure by confirming

that Mayor and MP Rickwaert,
a staunch Laugier supporter,

was the target
of the fraud squad investigation.

Laugier is expected to make a statement
at his meeting in Rouen tonight.

Damn Francis!
Why the silence?

No more press conference!
Is he crazy?

Do we just suffer in silence,

waiting for justice to run its course?

-These union guys are fascists.
-Armand, please!

The North? Rickwaert?
The Housing Board?

It stinks to high heaven!

So, Amelie?
He'll speak, right?

-That's his choice.
-No...

-Tell him the truth!
-Calm down. You're not helping!

Didn't I warn him about Rickwaert?

I'm the only one
who opens his mouth!

You're screwing up!

"In mourning"...
That's his answer?

Dammit!

This bastard dicks us around,
and we sit here, begging for more!

Who's the bastard?

Who's getting dicked around?
Just so I get it right?

-You have to say something.
-I will, tomorrow.

-We'll be lynched by then.
-Trust me.

Focus on the 2nd round.
By Sunday night,

you'll be heroes!
-It'll be too late.

Laurent, I'm confused.

Are you the one running for President?

I can help. Meet me at La Defense.

OK, I'm listening.

I can spare you jail time.

If you had anything,
I'd be in handcuffs.

Actually, our file's as thick
as my dick. But you're a lucky guy.

Because, unlike the judge,
we don't give a damn about you.

-We want the big guy.
-Tell Auzanet to dream on.

Try saying "Mr. President".
For another 5 marvelous years.

Why stick with your boyfriend?

Soon he'll be making keynote speeches
for 100,000 an hour.

Sorry, that's the ex-President rate.
You're Socialists.

You don't really care about money.

Someone gave you up.

He knows you well.
He'll go the distance.

The judge trusts him implicitly.

We've got you.

Who is it?

You'll find out once we have a deal.

What's your offer?

South East Asia.

Thailand, Laos, Cambodia...

Come back in a couple of years.
We'll drag out the trial.

It'll end in an acquittal
or a dismissal.

As a former MP,
you'll pass the Bar,

and open a law firm.

It's an easy road back to politics,
if that's what you want.

You won't be the first or the last
to make that detour.

What do you get in exchange?

Get on a plane tomorrow

with a very attractive
Paris Match journalist.

Tell her everything.

You extorted money for
Laugier's campaign, but he betrayed you.

-Tomorrow morning?
-9 AM.

This will be on the plane.

Look, we're not angels,
but we don't deserve jail.

Don't you agree?

-Hi, Dad.
-Where are you, honey?

At your place.
Mom stresses me out.

A reporter was waiting for me at school.

He asked me stuff about Francis.
He knew he was my godfather.

Don't worry, I ran away.

I'm not worried.

-Dad...
-What, honey?

-Did you talk to Mom?
-About what?

About me living with you.

You know, right now...

Yeah, I know.

Listen... I've got to go.

-Is there enough food?
-Yeah, don't worry.

-You're not coming home?
-I'm not sure when.

OK?

I love you, Dad.

I just spoke to a journalist friend.

The cops found a 30,000-euro hole
in the Housing Board accounts.

Rickwaert tried to cover it up,
but he didn't do enough.

And he didn't warn me,
which I don't like.

How did he know about the raid?

I have no idea.

Some cop? Who knows?

The board's budget is 310 million.
Who cares about 30,000?

30,000 or 300,000...
It makes no difference.

Now, they'll pull out the big guns.

So we shoot first.

Your friendship with Philippe
is your weakness.

Make it your strength.
Spell it out to him.

If he's guilty, he should pay.

Your responsibility to the country
supersedes friendship.

It may sound callous,
but it will help you rise above it all.

-Lightning...
-Yes, like Jupiter.

Make the lightning speak.

Don't be sentimental.
Use the full scope of your authority.

What on earth's going on, you idiot?

You having second thoughts?
Is that it?

If I go down, you go with me.
Spit it out.

-It was Joel.
-What about him?

Joel Domfront was the snitch.

That's impossible.

He met my boss and told him everything.

-Meaning?
-I don't know. It was off-record.

There's no paperwork, no trace.

He was scared.
He gave us hints so we'd start looking.

-No proof?
-We were counting on the search.

And on Joel.
We were going to lean on him in custody.

There, he'd have given us
concrete facts.

Now he's dead, and you've got nothing.

Exactly.

Idiot!

Francis, let's talk. I have some news.

Please clear the room.

I saw my cop. They have nothing.

You remember saying,
"not a single euro missing"?

-What?
-There are 30,000 euros missing.

You betrayed my trust.

The budget is 310 million.
30 grand out of 310 million.

That's late rent, not a gap.
And that's not all.

-I can't wait.
-Don't do that.

-I took all the risks.
-I'm listening!

The cops thought Joel
would spill the beans.

But he killed himself.

Who would kill themselves
before the police showed up,

unless they were guilty?
-And he was.

He stole 30,000 to help the workers
during the strike.

A tragic by-line...

fueled by the crisis
and manipulated by the Right.

Who would tell that story?

The Clamex workers.
The union guys.

Joel's friends, people I helped.
It's their turn to help.

They'll help you lie to the media,
the cops and the judges...

You want to win?
Come to Joel's funeral.

There, you announce a plan
to save Clamex, if you're elected.

And you denounce Auzanet's tactics.

3000 men will be there,
teary-eyed and ready to listen.

Hard-knock guys with tough lives.
That's who votes for you.

Like in Stalinist times?
With condemned factories?

Will they sing The Internationale?
With beer and hot dogs?

Workers disgust you!

-They smell, they're dirty...
-You and your proletarian act...

I'm upper middle-class,
so screw you!

Enough!

They have nothing.
All they had was Joel!

I'm sorry.

What will you do now?

Jupiter?

Friends...

Joel's death is a horrible blow,
a terrible shock.

I only wish
I had heard his cry sooner.

But in truth,
I was unavailable.

For several months, he talked to me
about the fight, the strike...

about the despair... Your despair!

I replied with pacts of trust
and European recovery plans.

Listen, my friends...

Whatever Joel did,
he did in good conscience.

People had to resist.

Resist through 23 weeks
of partial unemployment.

Resist for the country's
6 million workers.

And Joel resisted,
sacrificing his honor to the cause.

While we... I...

I left him alone with his courage.

In dying,
Joel has opened my eyes.

Now, I'm here.
But where are the others?

My Socialist friends?
My Parisian cohorts?

My fellow assemblymen?

And most importantly...

Where is our candidate?

What does his silence mean?

I know he's listening.
I know he's watching us.

Through us...

will he hear Joel's call?

Following the revelations
by Mr. Rickwaert, at the recycling plant

where the employees were gathered,

several other factories
have gone on strike

across the country,
in Rennes, Besancon and St. Nazaire.

Union member Joel Domfront's suicide

has profoundly affected
the working class,

who cried out "We are Joel"...

-You OK?
-Fine.

What will you do now?

Spend more time here.
I've missed my city.

That's not what I meant.

He means, about Laugier.
How will you handle it?

He'll never forgive you.

Even if he loses,
he'll still run the Party.

Good luck to him, without the North!

-We'll need a new candidate.
-True!

Comrades, whatever Sunday brings,
the legislative elections will follow.

-Cheers!
-Cheers!

How about a sausage, Mr. MP?

-Are they halal?
-100% halal.

Certified in heaven!

Exactly!

-Cheers, guys!
-Cheers!

Ladies and gentlemen...

-Welcome, Francis.
-Hello.

Hello, ladies and gentlemen.
Hi.

-It must be election time.
-Soon.

The media only come for the politicians.

We've been on strike for weeks.
You've never come before.

You hear?
Come here more often, even without me.

Hello, sir.

-How about a selfie?
-Sure.

Thank you.

Let me show you around.

Thank you, gentlemen.

How was the trip?

-Fine.
-No traffic?

Gentlemen, hello.
Please, don't move.

I'm Pascal, controller.

Yves is an electrician.
Been here 37 years.

39 years!

-Jeannot, union delegate.
-My pleasure.

This young guy is Philippe.
He's a mechanic.

This is where the boys
take their breaks.

Interesting breaks, I see.

-This way.
-Thanks, guys.

I hope the Socialists
won't forget us this time.

Why else would I be here?

I heard your call,
and I'm here to support you.

If you support us, wear a striker's pin.

No pins.
But I'll make a promise for the factory.

A beer for me!

Thanks!

To Clamex!

Even if you're President,
I'll never be your dog.

Did Mr. Domfront ever give you money?

Yes, Joel helped us out.

A gift at the end of each month.
So we could hold out

and pay our bills.

-He was one of us.
-Thank you.

As you can hear,
Clamex employees are saying

that the Housing Board slush fund
helped finance their strike.

There was no secret financing
of the Socialist party.

There will be no further legal action

before the 2nd round
of the presidential election.

We've just seen footage from

Francis Laugier's impromptu visit
to the industrial North,

which was a great success.

Laugier just committed to resolving

the Clamex problem,
a move that should reassure

the country's workers

while fostering dialogue
with the labor unions.

Number 1112.

-Mr. Rickwaert, Philippe.
-Voted.

"At 3 PM, voter turnout is up 2.3%."

-Good.
-Great.

Do you know how I met Rickwaert?

18 years ago,
at the Orleans conference.

He was a secondary local official
in Dunkerque,

He was clearly ambitious,
eager to move up.

He talked to everyone.
He had an opinion on everything.

I received a call on the 2nd evening:

"Go back to Paris, now!"

I went to my car
and found 2 slashed tires.

I couldn't change them until morning.

Philippe happened to walk by,

to pick up his car, parked next to mine.

He offered to take me to Paris.

We chatted throughout
the 2-hour drive to Paris.

It took him 14 years
to admit he had slashed my tires!

Crazy, huh?

He's crazy.
I've always known.

Crazy and dangerous.