Original subtitles

Are you going to be all right?

Don't worry.

- Hey, what's going on? - He's nothing but a pervert.

- Why can't he piss in the toilet? - She's talking nonsense!

Calm down, Monsieur.

So you like peeing on women?

A whore who spends her days getting screwed...

I won't have you humiliating these beauties.

We are the envy of the whole of Paris.

- Deputy? Deputy! - Do you hear?

This is a regrettable misunderstanding.

Rose is new.

Come with me.

Utter nonsense!

Last night at around ten the duc de Brunswick was burgled

on Place Vendôme.

The burglars must have been well informed.

The duke was out at the opera when they broke in.

We appear to be dealing with a gang of Parisian cat burglars.

The same technique was used in Auteuil two months ago

only this time they took it to a higher level.

And what has this got to do with us?

The Sûreté want the vice squad to collaborate with them.

500,000 doesn't go unnoticed.

They'll spend it somewhere.

So keep your ears open at the same time as your legs.

Chief Superintendent Torcy will be grateful to you

for any solid facts you can pass on.

You can count on us to collaborate, Superintendent.

I expected no less from you.

I would like a word with you in private.

Pauline's fate is particularly close to my heart.

Given the current climate with the vice squad,

I would feel better if I knew she was safe in a well-run house.

15,000.

No way. Seven.

I can guarantee that she has the skills.

- When was your last period? - Last Tuesday.

- Everything okay? - Yes, fine.

I'll go up to 10,000.

I'm in a good mood today.

Your stunt seemed to work on Angelus.

It would seem so.

What's this?

It's for you.

You have an hour.

You'll be paid 1,000 francs a month.

1,000 francs?

This is my home.

- This is my home! - Hortense, Hortense.

You yourself said the Paradis had no need of a protector.

Well, the protector is telling you the Paradis has no need of a madam.

You may keep your job

but you will have no share in the profits.

1,000 francs plus the rent...

That's a good deal.

- Where are you going? - Out.

Véra?

Watch out. The cops are on the alert.

- Torcy will no doubt... - It's a personal matter.

Drive her to where she tells you to.

Hurry up.

Gently does it. Give that to me.

That's it.

Times are changing, Rose.

There's a revolt brewing.

The moral order may have won the day but...

there are workers uniting everywhere.

They'll soon get their revenge.

There is a desire for freedom in the air.

Go on.

Rose?

What are you doing on Sunday?

Why are you doing this for me?

I'm not a milliner, Jeanne.

And I'm hardly a paragon of virtue.

Your mother and I have a complicated relationship.

I've never had her intelligence or ambition.

At our local school she was a hard worker. She applied herself.

I was sent to the back of the class.

As for our father...

Your mother was his favorite.

And to see you there, so beautiful and well brought-up,

I realize that he was right to pin his hopes on his eldest daughter

rather than on her little sister.

I want you to know that...

I will prove my worth as your aunt.

I am going to look after you.

And her.

You're right. It would look better taken in here.

Do you think you can do that for me?

No.

But we'll find someone who can.

- Thank you. - Have a good evening.

It's a private party.

Shut your mouth!

- What's going on? - It's Corentin.

Well, open the door.

- What? - Go on.

- I don't understand. - As usual. Go on.

My dear Corentin!

Welcome to the Paradis.

So this is what the Paradis is like now?

And I suppose he's the new boss?

Corentin Javier, who helped the Paradis survive the Commune.

Louis Mosca, our new business partner.

Not bad.

It's a bit flashy, but perhaps that's what the rich go for.

I sense that our clientele is not to your friend's taste.

A thug in a frilled shirt is still a thug.

It's the same with whores.

Bad smells linger.

It's been a pleasure to welcome you to the Paradis.

Don't ever do that again.

I'm growing fond of you, you know.

Perhaps we could meet on Sundays,

on my day off.

Spend some time together. Well?

Sure.

But how will I get laid during the week?

You don't get my ass for free, you know.

- Shut your eyes. - Why should I?

Shut your eyes.

One... two... three!

- Are they nice? - They're stunning!

Can I see? Excuse me.

Let's see.

How unseemly of him to give you such tat.

- May I? - What?

I told you to be discreet, you idiot!

You've only just arrived and you're handing out trinkets willy-nilly.

I had too much to drink yesterday.

What did the doctor say yesterday?

Don't worry. I'm fine.

I'm just a bit tired.

- Please don't say anything. - I knew it!

If Mosca finds out, he won't let me stay and I have nowhere else to go.

- You won't be able to hide it for long. - I will if I get rid of it.

- You can't do that! - What do you expect me to do?

Send it to a wet nurse who will tell it its mother is dead?

On stage tonight at the Paradis,

Sarah Bernhardt in her greatest role to date as Hortense Gaillac.

Sarah Bernhardt as a wizened hag!

You're so cruel!

I wanted to warn you.

There will be a few changes in the arrangements at the Paradis.

As of tonight, Bak will be on the door with Marguerite...

keeping any undesirables out.

Kertel and I will discreetly attend to your protection indoors.

And Hortense will collect the tokens.

- Is that okay? - Fine.

I meant, do I look okay in this suit?

- You look superb, boss. - She's such a tart!

What?

Is this better?

Not only has capitalism forged the weapons to destroy it,

it has also produced the men to wield them:

the proletarians.

It has reduced personal dignity to a simple market value.

Even at the heart of our families,

it has torn the veil of emotions

and reduced relationships to financial transactions.

Socialism will free women from their yoke,

both in middle-class marriages and in prostitution.

That's an illusion.

Men will always need a housewife to bring up the kids

and a prostitute to suck them off.

You're wrong, Rose.

It won't happen overnight, but change is afoot.

But is it on the right track?

Only three years into the Republic and we've got a monarchist Marshal

with his blessed moral order and a restoration coming our way.

- I share your fears. - Insurrection is our only option.

That will only lead to a bloodbath, like it did for the Commune.

What changes things is the daily struggle,

the fight at the ballot box, strike action, education.

- We must change daily lives. - Those are just words.

They're not just words.

What about Pauline? Who's going to change her life?

What do you mean?

You hid it from Mosca but you know she's pregnant.

I thought she'd be better off at the Paradis than out on the streets.

But what are you going to do?

Abandon her to a backstreet abortionist?

She must be dissuaded. It's dangerous.

What else can she do?

If Mosca finds out, he'll throw her out. You must to do something.

What you suggest is forbidden by law.

By law?

Your mother is very distressed. Institutionalizing her is for her own good.

Here we can watch over her health and her safety.

Your mother appears to be suffering from hysteria.

I fear her condition will worsen once she enters the depressive phase.

But when will she be cured?

I'm afraid I can't say exactly.

My approach consists of creating a soothing environment for the patient.

But I must warn you, the treatment will be long-term

and the outcome uncertain.

Good-bye, Madame, Mademoiselle.

It's my confirmation on Sunday.

That's great.

Let's go and pray for Mom.

Churches are not really my thing.

Will you come to my confirmation?

Come on.

What's this?

Macaroons.

It's delicious.

There's this, too.

Thank you.

Those.

Don't move.

Take a deep breath.

Try not to move, please.

It will soon be over. You'll be all right.

She's sleeping.

Unless she gets a fever she should be all right.

That's a relief.

Why didn't you say she was pregnant?

You asked me to check that she was in perfect health, which she is.

Don't try to be clever with me.

That's enough!

I'm keeping you on because the girls like you...

but don't you dare lie to me ever again.

Don't you feel like a change of air after having your nose rubbed in it?

It's okay.

I remember, for my confirmation I had a white dress.

I had a crown made of lilies.

- You were confirmed? - Yes.

- What about you? - Me, too.

Honestly, it really suits you.

All that's missing is a label saying ‟whore.”

- That's a bit harsh. - I can't go to church like this.

We can loosen the belt if you like,

and add a chemisette.

Even dressed as a nun you'd still look like a whore.

- It's not the dress that's the problem. - Thank you.

You're always such a delight first thing in the morning.

Don't take it personally.

It applies to all of us.

We know we have it written on our faces.

That doesn't mean she should dress as Jesus for Jeanne's confirmation.

At least this is closer to the truth.

I don't understand. Have you got something to say?

Your daughter is all alone and you're discussing what to wear.

Jeanne is not alone. I see her almost every day.

She's 16, Véra.

She has a right to know what happened.

Look where the lies got me.

Is that what you want for your daughter?

That was unfair.

Véra's doing her best.

Are you going to Jeanne's confirmation dressed like that?

Yes.

Come here.

It's beautiful.

You can have it.

I ordered it when I still thought I would hold my own salon one day.

A life in society,

a theater,

the opera.

Instead I never left this place.

I'll bring it back.

Hortense!

How could you do that to me?

You act the lady at your fancy brothel

and refuse my protection only to end up in the hands of a thug.

A thug with no criminal record.

Come off it, Gaillac! I can sniff a colleague out.

A colleague?

Even after the Brunswick break-in, the cops still have nothing on him.

Got that into your thick skull?

You must be in disgrace to have come to see me.

Well?

Get a move on.

- What's going on? - Shut up or I'll have you arrested.

Search this house from the cellar to the attic.

- Go through all that thoroughly. - Right.

Don't overlook anything.

You have been misinformed, Chief Superintendent.

Jealous types, no doubt.

In case you're interested,

I have some information about Deputy Vavrin

who frequents our establishment and is of dubious morality.

It's not just the Paradis he frequents.

I know.

We need to talk, girls.

You and I need to talk, too.

You couldn't help yourself. You informed on him!

You'll die alone, consumed with pride!

I hope none of you informed on him

because he hasn't finished with you.

LIST OF SERVICES

- Good evening, Madame. - Monsieur Laval.

Do we no longer pay the girls directly?

- Pity. I found it amusing. - My dear Monsieur Laval.

Marguerite.

We have a girl from the islands. I thought of you instantly.

- Marguerite? Marguerite? - Yes?

What are you doing? Playing at being the madam?

You seem so tired at the moment, Hortense.

I'm just taking things in hand.

You're welcome.

Illiterate peasant!

Good evening, gentlemen.

Good evening.

Right.

Here.

- Have a very good evening. - Thank you.

Good evening.

- Won't you join me in the lounge? - I'd be delighted to.

She gets all the luck.

Look at this beauty.

Those shapely thighs, those plump lips.

- And a lovely pair of knockers to boot. - What's your name?

Pauline.

Don't be shy, Pauline.

Monsieur lived in the colonies. He appreciates girls like you.

Does she know how to behave? I don't want any cheek.

She's an expert.

But she costs a bit more. Negresses are in short supply.

- Which island do you hail from? - Bagnolet.

- Angèle? - Yes.

Good evening.

Were you angry?

Do that again

and you'll be going back to your savannah.

- See you soon. - See you soon.

Excuse me. There you go.

- Good-bye. - Good night.

Leave it. We're expecting them.

What is this?

What's going on?

Where should I start, boss?

No one informs on Mosca.

Anyone caught doing so will have me to answer to.

You're crazy!

Come in. Dr. Blanche will be right with you.

- Thank you. - Have a seat.

Why are you here when you're not allowed out?

Don't tell me. I know the answer.

The staff here have been most informative.

Especially about the young girl whose aunt you pretend to be.

Jeanne, is it?

Dr. Blanche tells me that your sister, in the grip of her hysteria,

has given us a different version of events.

I have no influence over the girls, Chief Superintendent.

The girls?

What I want is information on Mosca's schemes.

And I want you to give me that information on Mosca's schemes.

It would be sad for this young girl,

Jeanne,

to find out her mother was a whore who never took care of her.