All language subtitles for A.French.Village.S07E06.FRENCH.WEBRip.x264-ION10

To fully understand,

I must tell you that...

The four of the maquis,

Claude, Thierry,

Arnaud and François,

were my friends.

And...

I can't...

I can't tell you how
the four of the maquis

sacrificed themselves,

because they didn't.
It was us who sacrificed them.

I'm sorry if I might disappoint you.

The truth is too important for me

to let a ceremony distort memory.

It was two days
after the November 11th march.

We were trapped by the Krauts,

almost surrounded.

And we decided to escape by climbing

the St. Christophe cliff.

It was hard, but we succeeded.

Well...

almost.

Because when the Krauts arrived,

there were four men down.

The Krauts were numerous
and well armed.

No chance in case of a fight.

So, I...

I dropped the rope
we would've used to pull them up.

And I left them to their fate.

That is...

the truth

about the four of the maquis.

Claude!

A French Town

What a wonderful story!

Thank you so much, Antoine.

Thanks to you,

whose courage I wish to salute,

one of sincerity,

we now know

how our friends, our brothers,

and our companions died for France.

They didn't choose to be heroes,

and that's how they became

the true heroes of the Resistance!

After...

After this tribute,

inevitably insufficient,

to our four of the maquis,

we must ask ourselves
how to prolong their action.

The reason why they died.

So I'd like to give the floor

to Raymond Schwartz,

a man you all know,
who fought alongside

the four of the maquis

and who, I believe,

has an important announcement
to make.

Raymond, please.

I'm not a good speaker.

"We...

"We bow down before the fallen

"and the seriously injured.

"I knew them well
during my long months of resistance.

"Today, the fight
for our values continues:

"liberty, equality,

"and, our ultimate value, fraternity.

"The fight
de Gaulle leads in France,

"he also leads it
in counties and cities...

"Villeneuve's election
will take place in December,

"which is why in agreement
with my friend Lanzac,

"Companion of the Liberation",

"and Congressman Bériot,

"who wishes to pursue
a national career,

"I will be oficially running

"for mayor of Villeneuve".
There.

And to begin, I would like to rename
one of the streets of the city

as "Rue of the Four of the Maquis".

Bravo!

So that the flame of their combat
never dies out.

Long live de Gaulle,

and long live France.

Long live France!

Thank you, comrades!

Thank you.

I will now give the floor
to Comrade Roger Marteau,

Congressman,
who will say a few words.

Glory be
to our comrade Marcel Larcher...

executed by fascists

as 75,000 communist militants were

between 1940 and 1944.

I would like to read out
the names of all of them.

That is obviously not possible.

Marcel Larcher

died for France
on November 13th, 1943.

Marcel Larcher,

whom I knew well,

doesn't even have
an alley that bears his name.

Outrageous!

How unfair!

What a terrible sign of the times!

Especially considering
that our party was the first

to fight the Krauts...

on July 10, 1940,

when Maurice Thorez
and Jacques Duclos called for it!

Considering also that our party

spearheaded the Resistance

by executing Kraut officers in 1941,

an action in which Marcel Larcher

heroically participated here.

No!
We need to set the record straight.

Turn the historical process
right side out!

Our 75,000 executed militants
demand it!

We must, by all means,

claim, demand,

and obtain a Marcel Larcher Street
in Villeneuve!

Long live the PCF,
long live the Resistance,

long live France!

Bravo!

To better recall

the memory of Marcel Larcher,

I will give the floor
to Edmond Lherbier,

his friend and comrade-in-arms,

candidate for mayor of Villeneuve,

and - I am convinced -

future mayor of Villeneuve!

Thank you, comrades.

For me, Marcel Larcher is,

and always will be,

a model.

Serious,

modest, hard-working and responsible

in his dialectical analyses,

he was the very essence
of the great militant,

the one who makes
victories and revolutions!

I recall him

as early as 1940,

ready to cross the line
for a simple meeting.

So?

Is it true what Edmond says?

No, it's not true.

But that's not the point, Gustave.

What matters is fighting
to make things happen.

Mom used to say lying is wrong.

Never lie to
your parents and comrades.

How are you doing at school?

I don't go to school anymore, Dad.

You don't?

You must give your life meaning.

And there is only one possible:
the historical process.

How do you relate to it?

I read that in your notebook,
but I didn't really get it.

Gustave,

the world is unfair.

The rich crush the poor,

the Whites
crush the Blacks and Asians.

The powerful crush the weak.

- Yes, I get that.
- It's the class struggle.

You have to pick sides.

You defend
either the rich or the poor.

There's no middle ground.

The historical process
is that one day, the poor will win.

And they'll make the world
a fairer place to live.

A place for everybody.

That's what you must fight for.

Nothing else matters.

Do you understand?

Is that why you left?

Yes.

That's why I left.

Don't go wrong on what's important.

Oh, by the way,

Mom sends you a kiss.

The Internationale

Unites the human race

This is the final conflict

Let each stand in his place

The Internationale

Unites the human race

All rise!

Sit down, please.

Will the defendants please rise.

After deliberation,

and having regard to Articles
75 to 77 of the Criminal Code

and the Orders of February 15, 1943

and August 14, 1944,

this Court sentences
Luc Henri Saturnin Servier,

born on March 10, 1902
in Courbevoie,

to the death penalty,

which shall be carried out
according to law.

The Court sentences

Daniel André Larcher,
born on July 10, 1895 in Villeneuve,

to national indignity,

not accompanied
by a ban to practice medicine

given
the current shortage of doctors.

These verdicts
are not subject to appeal.

This court is adjourned.

How awful!

Larcher's responsible.

Of course, he couldn't know.

It wasn't that bad.
Just a rough patch.

- Where were you?
- In the cheering crowd.

- Oh, stop it.
- They were cheering at you.

Not when I told
what really happened.

Ah, the truth...

"Man is ice to truth
and fire to falsehood".

- Who said that?
- Jean de La Fontaine.

He wrote more than fables.

Geneviève?

So, did I miss something?

No, except that I blew it.

Lanzac told me it went very well.

I read my speech, I stumbled
on words. It was just a mess.

I won't need you anymore for today.
You are dismissed.

You wanted me to finish the ironing.

I changed my mind!

- See you tomorrow.
- Yes, madam.

When they're honest,
they're so stupid!

It's appalling!

I sucked.

Apparently,
no one noticed except you.

Either people don't care,
or they want to love you,

so they don't listen.

But they'll vote for you.
Trust me.

What will you have?

Some of your 30-year-old whisky.

- You mean, the Colonel's present.
- Right. The Colonel's present.

- Ice?
- No.

- How did your little soldier do?
- He was amazing.

He should be elected mayor.

- It's definitely good.
- The best.

Why him? You used to think
uniforms were ridiculous.

He's not always in his uniform
when I see him.

Why do you want me to be mayor?

I've got a plan.

What do you want, Jeanine ?

You know what I want.

What happened?

They were drunk.

The sergeant was...

It was long.

Was it...

the usual soldiers?

Yes.

They were drunk
because they're leaving.

You said they were nice.

Well, I was wrong.

It just happened?

I mean...

he just jumped on you?

You think I asked him to?

Of course not...

I'm trying to understand.

There's nothing to understand.

They see us
as a conquered country.

They think
all French girls are whores,

so they use them.

There.

I'm sorry.

It's not your fault.

It is.

- You didn't want me to leave you.
- For Gran, not for me.

How was your ceremony?

Was it nice?

No. But what does it matter?

It must've been important
since you went.

Don't touch me.

Geneviève...

If you've something to say, say it.

I hate it when we don't talk.

I love you.

Why did you leave?

Why did you leave?

Why did you leave me? Why?

You scared me.

How long did I sleep?

What were you thinking?

I thought
you weren't talking to me.

Dr. Moret said
it could have been serious.

It was a close call.

I even failed that.

Did you think about Françoise?

Did you?

Did you think about Françoise

before treating me
like you've been doing lately?

That's different.

I do what I can.

Please, don't start, Lucienne!

Can you do me a favor,
despite everything?

- Maybe.
- Go see the priest.

Tell him what happened,

and that I would like to confess.

Now.

Here?

I'm too weak

to walk to church.

Alright.

- It was nice of you to come.
- Don't talk nonsense.

I mean it.

Only you and Arlette...

But Arlette cries. It's annoying.

I didn't think she could cry.

Any news on your plea for clemency?

I asked Maître Lévy not to file it.

Why?

If I get a pardon,
I'll get life, Larcher.

Even with remissions,
prison's not for me.

Because death is?

Death is for everybody,

sooner or later.

I'm happy that you made it through!

People will forget
your national indignity someday.

- No.
- People forget everything, Larcher.

You think so?

Otherwise, they would've quit voting.

They forget heroes.

They forget traitors.

They forget the pain.

They forget the joy.

They've forgotten me.

- I'll never forget you.
- Yes, you will.

I hope you do, for your sake.

Do you know a game called
Chinese Portrait?

No.

The other day, I thought,

- "What if I was a book?"
- Strange idea.

If you were a book,
what would you be?

I don't know.

- A medical dictionary.
- You can do better.

A novel.

A long, beautiful novel
whose pages would be glued together.

That's not exactly cheerful!

You know I'm not
a cheerful man, my friend.

That's true.

We have to go, sir.
The doctor will perform

the checkup.

I mean, the required checkup.

Taking care of me
before executing me

is quite stupid, I must say.

This new Republic
is off to a bad start.

And you?

If you were a book,
what would you be?

An outdated criminal code.

It's obvious, Larcher.

Forget about me.

And try to unglue your pages.

It was good, eh?

Yeah.

- Why do you look so sad?
- I don't look sad.

You look like a kid
who broke his toy.

You're thinking about Marie?

It's stupid to ask me
what I'm thinking.

Why?

Because I can answer anything.

As soon as you ask me
what I'm thinking,

I forget about it.

What was it?

Death.

Death?

Marchetti and Servier
are going to be executed.

Many people have died since 1940.

It's normal to think about death.

I think about life.

- It's the same.
- No.

Since 1941,
I've often wondered if you...

and me...

If we...

Just tell me,

when Chassagne banged you,
would you think about me?

Not at all!

I'd think of you
every now and then.

Often.

Did you think about me?

- Yes, of course.
- How?

You want to know what I used
to think, what I'm thinking

and what I'm going to think about?
- No.

I want everything.

What are you thinking now?

I'm thinking...

I'm thinking...

that you and me...

are going to re-conquer...

the world.

- Am I disturbing you?
- No.

No, I...

- I was reading.
- Ah.

- I thought I heard a violin.
- I stopped playing a long time ago.

Please, come in.

I'm sorry, the room's a mess.

Your husband told me what you did.

Yes, I know.

He also said
you would like to confess.

Do you mind

if we play some music?

Music?

It'll help me. Some Bruckner.

Do you know Bruckner?

You can't confess while listening
to music, Mrs. Bériot.

You should listen
to your soul only.

The best...

would be...

for you to sit here.

As for me,

I'll sit here,

so as to replicate

the conditions of confession
in the church.

it is exceptional for me

to go to the home of a parishioner.

I appreciate that.

What I mean is,
it will not happen again.

I understand.

Forgive me, Father,
for I have sinned.

I'm listening, my child.

I didn't really
want to take my own life.

It's not a sin, then.

It is to make
my husband believe I did.

Why would you do such a thing?

To make you come here.

For what purpose?

I tried to follow your instructions,

but I had bad thoughts again.

Thanks to God and your advice,

I managed to...

get the other man out of my mind.

That's good.

By replacing him.

With your husband?

With you.

I know it's insane,

but don't leave me, Father.
You're the reason I'm alive.

Help me get rid
of these bad thoughts.

Through deceit and manipulation,

you lured a man of the Church
into your room

to tell him that he is the subject
of your evil thoughts?

And you expect to forge
a relationship with me?

You are blind, my child!

- Don't abandon me, Father.
- You need to open up, Madam.

Open your heart.

Not to evil thoughts, whether real

or fabricated,

nor to chimeras of the past,

but to God, to his generosity,
and also to yours.

Generosity towards others
and towards yourself.

Your sins are so terrible, I don't
know what penance to give you.

I'll do anything you say.

- I'm ready to enter the convent.
- Oh no, you're not!

Then let me go back to my confession.

You put me in an unreal situation,

where I have to choose
between not listening to you,

- which, you say, would harm you -

and listening to you,

which, I believe,
fuels a destructive flame in you.

Well, so be it.

I will teach you the power of faith.

You'll come to confession.

and I will make you discover
true love,

the love of Christ.

The love of God.

Will you be OK?

Yes.

Have a seat.

I spoke to the US liaison officer,
Coronel Bridgewater.

One of their guys was murdered,

so they don't plan
on taking care of your bad night.

I was raped.

- Are you sure?
- Yes, she's sure.

Let her answer.
She'll be the one put to the test.

Put to the test?

She's a victim, for crap's sake!

The inquiry will determine that.
If it takes place.

I haven't even told you
what happened.

According to Bridgewater,

two American soldiers

admit to having
sexual relations with you,

but say you were consenting.

On the dining table,
with my grandmother next door?

Do you have any bruises?

No.

They were two
and they were holding me.

Holding you by what?

Neck and wrists.

May I?

Nothing.

No bruises,
it's their word against yours.

A young lady
with a somewhat dark past...

How dare you?

Against an American officer...

I want to press charges.

You knew them
for a long time, right?

They'd been restocking at the farm.

Did you ever invite them in?

Of course.

You're wasting your time.

You could even be sued
for defamation.

Loriot, we are pressing charges.

I don't have to take whimsical

or unrealistic complaints.

Whimsical?

You forget you tried
to help Marchetti escape?

You too
tried to help him escape.

- You even succeeded.
- Yes.

But I was on a mission
for Prefect Bériot.

Now take her complaint,

mister Chief of Police.

Or I swear I'll tell what you did
to every person I meet.

Is that clear?

It's your time, after all...

Hortense?

- Mister Escudier!
- Mister Larcher.

- It's about your wife.
- But she's not home.

Yes, we had an altercation earlier,
and she left.

She seemed, err...

agitated.

Really? What happened?

Mr. Larcher, with all due respect,

she hasn't been all there lately.

What exactly are you implying?

At night, she walks in her room
and talks to herself.

My wife and I often hear her.

Yes.

She hasn't been sleeping well.

- You know what she's been through.
- Yes, of course.

The problem is,
she's making holes in our wall.

Holes?

She seems to be
in a good mood today.

That's odd. She confessed.

If I confessed, God forbid,
I doubt it'd put me in a good mood.

The Four of the Maquis ceremony
was a big success.

- That's great news.
- But your absence was noticed.

- You say that as a compliment?
- No. Lanzac took it very badly.

He asked me to tell you
you're not yet a candidate

for legislative office.

- He's lying.
- I'm telling you what he told me.

For him, if Schwartz is not elected,
you can say goodbye to the Congress.

We were supposed to quietly
take Schwartz down.

We'll have to play it safe.

You have one hour.

That's all I can do.

You have it?

No.

Why did you come, then?

To say goodbye to you.

You didn't go?

- I can't do it, Jean.
- Why not?

You're the father of my son.

I am when it suits you.

No.

It's just I don't know
how to handle it.

I thought you'd bring it.

I was happy to die like that.

Yesterday,

when I left prison,
I met with David.

He asked me what the notebook was.

I told him it was a story...

written by Daddy,

and that he'd read it someday.

A story?

He had a big smile on his face.

He was expecting to see pictures.

I can't draw.
I don't know how to.

You have it.

I know you have it.

People don't search hats.

Especially women's hats.

I noticed that in Switzerland.

Death doesn't take up much space.

It doesn't smell either.

Did he give you instructions?

Drink it in one go,
or you might burn yourself.

No!

Like that?

Like that.

First place

at the Seine
Prefectural Administration exam?

Mr. Servier, you will go far.

I would even say
farther than your father.

Hélène Crémieux.

Hélène Crémieux, born in 1931.

You don't work hard enough.

Don't ask yourself questions.
Learn.

Reflection won't give you answers.
Work will.

Come on, we can't have
a wedding without music!

It's time, Mr. Servier.
Are you ready?

You're on time. That's good.

I'm all yours, gentlemen.

My wife didn't come this morning.

- Would you happen to know why?
- No, I'm sorry.

Tell her that...

Tell her that I'm...

No, don't tell her anything.

Give her my notebook.

Servier!

Are we lost?

No, we're next to the camp.
We just have to find the way out.

Nice one, Servier.
We've been on it for 20 minutes.

We'll find it.
You just have to be patient.

We should've never come here.

We voted.
We all agreed, even you.

I didn't.
I just wanted to please you.

A vote is a vote. It's important.

My dad says it's useless.

My father says that voting
is what keeps you free.

- He's a prefect.
- That has nothing to do with it!

- Haven't we been here before?
- No.

- If we have, it means we're lost.
- No, we're not!

We're going around in circles.
Of course we're lost.

- Do you have a better idea?
- We should split up.

So, we all go our separate ways.

The first to find the exit
gets the others.

How will he find the others,
you genius?

He'll shout!

You can't hear anything in here.
Your plan is stupid.

- You should never split up.
- I'm for splitting up.

- I'm against.
- Fine, let's vote, then.

Who wants to split up?
It's the only way, guys.

Serge, if you vote like me,
I'll lend you my watch.

- You're buying his vote!
- No, I'm explaining.

Louis, think about it.
Vote for my proposal.

Guys, I can see the way out!
Look, there's the ladder.

Yeah! Finally!

- We could vote anyway.
- What for?

- To see who's right.
- Oh, please!

Hurry up.
They're probably looking for us.

OK, fine.

Halt!

Squad, on my command!

Too bad.
We could've voted anyway.

Load your weapons!

Take aim!

Fire!

They released you?

Yes. I got national indignity.

That's disgusting.

And Servier got the death penalty.

- He may be pardoned.
- I don't think he will.

You have patients?
You're in your coat.

No.

I did some DIY.

Really?

- You were out?
- Yes. You sound surprised.

It's just
you rarely go out now since...

I thought I'd buy myself some hats

that suit my hair better.
Do you want to see them?

Sure. In a moment.

I spoke to Escudier.

He made a fuss
because I hammered a nail.

- Oh? You "hammered a nail"?
- Yes.

I couldn't let my painting fall off.

I love that painting.

You know Escudier
spies on us at night?

- Ah.
- Yes...

He talks about us for hours.

He talks with his wife
about me and Heinrich.

He listens to us.

I mean, he listens to me.
I can hear him.

What is it that you hear?

I hear him listen.

You know,
I was looking for something, and...

I eventually opened
one of your drawers.

I'm sorry.

- I found newspapers.
- Yes, for my collages.

Your collages?

I want to make composite work.

Painting, collage...
It's very common in the US.

I read an article about it
in the paper.

It's paintings
with bits of newspaper headlines.

Very interesting!

I'm going to clean up my desk.

It's gonna be OK, honey.

It's gonna be OK.

I feel nothing.

Is that normal?

He said it'd happen suddenly.

After half an hour or an hour.

You better go, then.

Don't be here when they find me.

I'm not going to leave now.

That's it.

That's it.

I feel something.

I can't see well.

It's all blurry.

- Did he say I'd see blurry?
- No.

He just said it wouldn't hurt
if you drank it in one go.

Do you remember

The Thousand and One Nights?

Yes.

"Scherazade"?

Scheherazade.

What was she like?

As beautiful

as day.

As mysterious as night.

I can't see anything now.

It doesn't hurt.

It doesn't hurt.

What was her dress like?

No, I can't get married in this.

What do you think?

Not bad.

Of course...

You don't care about the dress.

- Or the wedding, for that matter.
- Why do you say that?

You said
you'd do it for the papers.

You said you didn't care about me.

Listen, if I didn't care about you,

do you think
I'd be interested in your papers?

You told me you didn't love me.

It's true. I don't love you.

But look,

you never know
how things can turn out.

So, we're gonna get married.

You'll wear a nice dress.

I'll be wearing a suit.

We will go...

to a restaurant.

And then we'll leave

for Étretat, yes.

- Have you been to Étretat?
- No.

Étretat has the most
beautiful beach in the world.

We'll stay at Les Bains Hotel.

We're gonna eat seafood.

And maybe, we'll go swimming.

Maybe we'll have fun.

Maybe you and I
will have real fun together.

And we may want to do it again.

You think?

You have to believe.

Anything can happen
when two people that like each other.

You must believe.

I'll borrow dresses
from my cousins.

They come from Paris.

And my parents?

What am I gonna tell them?

Your parents.

Éliane...

Don't worry about your parents.

You...

You will tell them...

a story...

Yes.

I will tell them a story.