Original subtitles

-Algiers, this splendid modern city

was reduced to roughly this in 1830.

Dilapidated houses, packed together like pomegranate seeds.

Fromentin's ghost may return to one of these cafés,

the Casbah is still the one he described:

a mixture of types, colors, smells and sounds,

a fantastic maze of crooked alleys, of stairs.

But Algiers is now something other than the old Casbah!

France knew how to open its windows.

The new city has lunged towards the heights,

widening its arteries, strengthening itself with sumptuous monuments,

buildings too high and too Parisian.

Tramway bell

The indissoluble blend of Western and Arab life

is one of Algeria's charms.

They meet in Algiers more than anywhere else in the country.

Algiers is like the first smile of Algeria.

The city unfolds before the eyes of the dazzled tourist, it has invaded...

He's asking you what you did.

I killed an Arab.

-Hello. Monsieur Meursault? -Yes.

-A telegram for you.

Have a good day. -Thank you.

Come in.

Ah, Meursault.

Yes?

He sighs.

I'm sorry, it wasn't my fault.

-How many days do you need? -Two.

-How old was your mother?

Sixty or so.

You can go.

Here.

You only have one mother.

-No! -You want to go that way?

-No! -Go sit down.

No...

What should we have?

But I want the spinning top!

He wants his spinning top.

Enjoy your meal, my friend.

It's hot, isn't it?

Ah!

Oh boy...

-Monsieur Meursault? -Yes.

Good morning, monsieur.

The director is waiting for you.

During her three years here, your mother

was happy, wasn't she?

I know your income is modest. You couldn't support her.

Yes.

Good.

The funeral will be at 11:00 tomorrow. You can keep vigil tonight.

Your mother wanted a religious burial

and a mass.

So I have made the necessary arrangements.

Thank you.

I just need... a small signature here at the bottom.

I had her moved to our morgue, so as not to upset the others.

Every time someone dies, they are nervous for 2-3 days.

Hello. -Hello.

He clears his throat. -After you.

Ah!

Monsieur Meursault.

I'll open the coffin for you.

Don't you want to see your mother one last time?

No.

Why?

It's of no use.

Do you want dinner?

I'm not hungry.

A coffee?

Oh yes, I'd like that.

Thank you.

Come in.

Ladies and gentlemen.

Take a chair.

There's a seat for you, there.

Someone is crying.

-Your mother was her only friend here. Now she has no one.

Snoring

Meursault exhales.

Snoring

He has a coughing fit.

Someone approaches.

Come on, wake up! Go back to your rooms.

Creaking

Would you like more coffee?

-Yes.

Mysterious music

Rooster crowing

-Hello. -Hello, Father, how are you?

Indistinct speech

The priest prays in Latin.

Amen.

He exhales.

(-That's M. Perez. He was your maman's fiancé.)

(Go ahead.)

She whispers.

Cicadas chirping

M. Perez pants.

He groans.

Cicadas chirping

Call to prayer

Light hubbub

Church bells

He exhales.

He groans.

-Are you all right, M. Perez? Lean on me.

Hubbub

M. Perez groans.

Hubbub

He speaks Latin.

He prays in Latin.

Amen. -AMEN.

-In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.

Amen.

Light hubbub

Cry of rage

-Come on, come!

Carrion! Filthy dog! No!

Carrion, come on, come.

Moaning Hey! You're pissing me off!

Come here! Hits and screams

What are you looking at?

Huh?

Filth!

Moaning

Door slams

He sighs.

Cicadas chirping

Snoring

(-Thank you.)

He turns on the tap. Flowing

Barking

Seagull cries

Light hubbub

-Hello.

-Hello, Marie.

-Are you well? -Yes.

And you? -I'm fine.

Do you still work at... -Yes.

And you?

-Still a typist.

-Very well.

-It's hot.

Shall we swim?

-All right.

Light hubbub

Calm music

(-Shall we go?) -Hm.

Light hubbub

Mmh.

She laughs.

Are you in mourning?

-Maman died.

I buried her yesterday. -I'm sorry.

-Do you want to go to the movies?

-Yes.

Why not.

-Hello. -Two seats.

*Newsreel

*...

*-Well then, I'll begin, there.

*The fear...

*Coughing

Laughter

*Every person condemned to death

*shall have his head cut off. Laughter

*-Pity. *-Every person condemned to death

*shall have his head...

*cut off.

Laughter

*Indistinct speech

*-Affirmative.

*-Every person condemned to death shall have his head cut off.

*Isn't that so?

*-And... pensive!

*-Pensive.

*Every person condemned to death...

*cut off.

Laughter *-Comical!

*Every con... *Fernandel coughs.

*He laughs. Laughter in the room

Honking

Soft music

Birds singing

He sighs.

Birds singing

He sighs.

Birds singing

He groans.

Birds singing

Church bells Barking

Salamano shouts in the distance.

Sizzling

Honking

Hubbub in the distance

-It's not open. Get up, get out!

Get up, that's all.

Get out! -But why?

-I told you to go away! Come on, go.

Seagull cries

Dark music

Engine revving

-Come!

Hubbub

-Enjoy your meal.

How are you? It wasn't too hard?

-No.

-That's good. Hello. -Hello.

-Here. -Thank you.

He sighs.

Dark music

Hubbub

Indistinct argument

-Bunch of dirty Arabs! Damn, my suit.

Shit!

Damn! Oh Meursault, how's it going?

I've got wine and blood sausage, you want some?

Come on, come in.

Food sizzling Barking in the distance

And here we are, good blood sausage.

Sigh

You see that Arab from earlier? That was Djemila's brother.

And he's got it in for me because she's my girl.

I support her, that bitch. I pay for everything.

If she worked half a day, it would suit me.

But she doesn't want to, she says she can't manage.

Sigh I give her 20 francs a day.

I pay for her stockings, her rent,

and she drinks coffee with her friends all afternoon.

Then I knew there was cheating.

I beat her,

and she told her brother about it.

I told her the truth:

her only goal,

for her, was having fun with her thing.

Mmh.

What do you think of my business?

-I don't know.

-You think there's cheating?

-You can never tell.

-Anyway, my idea,

would be to write her a letter.

That way, she comes back, I sleep with her,

and then I kick her out.

You could help me.

Lugubrious music

-How?

-Well, to write the letter.

Djemila. Djemila Hamdani.

You have nice handwriting.

I knew you knew about life, but not like this.

Now, you're a real pal! He laughs.

Oh yes, you're a real pal.

Don't let yourself go, old man.

I heard about your maman. It's sad, but that's how it is.

That's life.

Small grunts

Between men, we always understand each other.

Mumbling

Barking

Cries of rage Groaning

Barking

Serious music

She scolds him in Arabic.

Sighs

Call to prayer

Barking Cries of rage

(-What is it?) -It must be Salamano,

a neighbor.

He has a dog, he beats it and yells at it.

(-Poor thing.)

-Like an old couple.

I'm going shopping.

I'll be back.

Food sizzling

-Tu m'aimes ? [alt.] Do you love me?

-It doesn't mean anything. [alt.] It means nothing.

-Well... it does.

-I don't think so.

Cries of rage in the distance

-Is it your neighbor and his dog again?

-No, it must be Raymond.

Indistinct shouts

-What's happening? -It's coming from here.

We have to do something.

Can we call an officer? -One is coming.

-Over here, officer!

-So what, where is it?

A woman screams.

He knocks. -Police!

Open up!

-Yeah, yeah...

-Get out! Hurry up!

-Come on... -Well, then?

-He hit me.

He hit me. -That's false.

-Your name? -Raymond Sintès.

-Put out your cigarette. -I'm finishing it.

Exclamations

Ah, yeah.

Yeah... Can I pick up the butt anyway?

-You'll learn that an officer,

is not a puppet, understood? -Yes.

-He hit me.

He's a pimp. -Calling a man

a pimp, is that legal? -Shut up.

-You'll see, bitch. -That's enough.

Sintès, t'attends d'être convoqué

to the station. And you, get out!

Disappear before I summon you!

Whispers

Stop drinking, have you seen yourself? You should be ashamed.

Come on, go home, you!

Everyone leave, now!

Hey! Hurry up, hey!

Hubbub

-Do you know that woman?

-No.

-Is she a prostitute?

-I don't know, she's his mistress.

-Did that bother you?

-What?

-That he hit her.

-It's their business. [alt.] It's their affair.

(-I'm going to go.)

Door opens.

Door slams.

A knock.

-Am I bothering you?

-No. -Oh, that's good.

I punished her, she got the beating she deserved.

And the officer, I don't care.

I know how to handle them.

Did you expect

me to hit him? You're not saying anything.

-I wasn't expecting anything.

I don't like officers.

-That's normal, they're all pieces of shit.

Well, let's go out, I'll buy you a drink. He groans.

Light hubbub

Say, could you act as a witness for me?

-How?

-To defend me at the station. -I wouldn't know what to say.

-You say that bitch was disrespectful to me.

-And that's all? -Yes, that's all.

-All right.

-Afterwards, we'll go to the brothel. My treat.

-Thanks, but I don't like that. -You're right.

She was cute, the girl at your place.

What's her name? -Marie.

-Marie. That's pretty, Marie.

Indistinct speech

You know, I like blondes. Come for 5 minutes.

5 minutes! Come on, damn it.

Virgins are a pain in the ass.

Salamano, what's happening? -Filth!

-Where is your dog?

-He was with me at the Parade Ground,

I stopped to watch "The Escape King" and he disappeared!

-It's okay, he'll come back.

-I was supposed to change his collar,

but I never would have thought he could leave like that.

-Go to the pound.

Pay and they'll give him back.

-How much?

How much will it cost me?

-I don't know.

-Pay for that carrion, huh?

He can just die!

-All right... Well, see you around.

Someone approaches.

A knock.

-Yes?

-They're not going to take him from me, Monsieur Meursault?

Will they give him back to me?

Otherwise, what will become of me?

-The pound keeps dogs for 3 days.

Afterwards...

I don't know. He sighs.

Good evening, M. Salamano.

He cries.

Serious music

The phone rings.

-Hello?

*Indistinct speech

Meursault. It's for you.

-Hello?

-Yeah, it's Raymond, how's it going? *-Uh, yes...

-I just wanted to tell you...

*-What?

-Some Arabs followed me all day.

*And Djemila's brother was there again so if you see him, let me know.

-All right.

-Anyway, do you want to take your girl to the beach? A friend has a cabin.

*-Yes.

I'll talk to her about it.

-Meursault.

Come into my office. -Yes, Monsieur.

I have to let you go.

-Go on.

Light hubbub

-I plan to set up an office in Paris.

To handle our business with the major companies.

Does it interest you?

You are young, you might like it.

Living in Paris, traveling part of the year.

-Yes.

I don't know.

-A change of life doesn't interest you?

-Changing one's life, I don't think it's possible.

And besides, all lives are equal. [alt.] one life is as good as another.

I don't mind life here.

-Your lack of ambition,

there is nothing worse in business.

You may go.

-And he offered you work there? -Yeah.

-I'd like to see Paris, what's it like?

-Dirty.

The walls are black, there are pigeons everywhere,

the people have white skin.

-Oh...

Chuckling

-Wouldn't you like us to get married? -It's all the same to me. [alt.] It doesn't matter.

If you want.

-So you love me?

-I already told you, it doesn't mean anything. [alt.] it means nothing.

-Why marry me then?

-Because it has no importance.

If you wish, let us marry.

-Marriage is a serious thing.

-No.

I don't think so.

Baby crying

... Melancholy music

-Would you have accepted the same proposal from another woman?

-Naturally.

-I too,

sometimes wonder if I love you.

You're strange, not like the others.

You say everything you think.

-It's normal.

-I don't know.

Sometimes, it can hurt.

That must be why I like you.

Maybe one day you'll be disgusted by me.

But I want to marry you.

-All right.

Call to prayer

-I'm back from the pound, my dog isn't there.

The employees told me he must have been run over.

-Do you want to come in?

Salamano reflects.

(-Yes.) He groans.

I married late.

I was never happy with my wife, but I got used to it.

When she died,

I felt very alone.

Then, a coworker gave me a puppy.

I bottle-fed him.

A dog doesn't live as long. We ended up being old at the same time.

He had a bad temper,

we had our spats,

but he was a good dog...

-He was a fine breed. Salamano bursts out laughing.

-It was his coat that was most beautiful.

And you didn't know him before his illness.

Every day, I applied ointment.

But his real illness,

was old age.

There is no cure for that.

Your poor maman,

she liked my dog very much.

You must be very unhappy since her death.

I hope the dogs won't bark tonight.

I always think it's mine.

Snoring Meursault exhales.

Snoring

Whining

Dark music

Traffic Light hubbub

-Shall we go?

-Sintès will be here.

-Must we wait for him?

-Madame, I bid you good day.

Are you well?

How are you, Meursault? Ready for a swim?

What does he want?

-What's happening? -Some Arabs have it in for Sintès.

-Why? -Oh... nonsense, Mademoiselle.

Well, come on, we'll miss the bus.

Ominous music

They speak Arabic.

Go, go, go.

Honking

The music softens.

Hey, Masson!

-Raymond! -How's it looking?

Masson laughs.

-It's a pleasure.

-Let me make the introductions.

Meursault, Marie. Marie, Meursault, Masson.

Dark music

-She's amazing, isn't she?

-Yes, she's cute.

A waste.

Masson laughs.

He exhales.

-You haven't kissed me today.

Marie laughs.

You're covered in sand!

Come rinse off.

She laughs.

Come on!

Come on!

-To yours, my Raymond.

It's a pleasure to have you here.

-Here's the bread.

Enjoy your meal!

-How is the fish?

-It's delicious. -Ah, I was hungry!

-Ah! I like this lad, eh! Laughter

It was very good.

-Do you know what time it is? -No.

-Eleven-thirty. -So early?

-Lunchtime is when you're hungry, isn't it?

-That's true.

-Well, come on.

-After lunch, she naps. I walk.

Well, come on, let's take a walk! Sintès exhales.

Come on! -Come on.

He groans.

Come on, up, Meursault!

Dammit... -What?

-Hey, Meursault, do you recognize him?

-Who is it? -Djemila's brother, he follows me everywhere.

Dark music

Masson, if there's a fight, you take the one in the beret.

I take the one in blue. If there's a third, he's yours.

Come on!

So, pretty boy, I have beautiful eyes, but still...

Groan

You piece of shit! Meursault, look what I'm doing to him!

-Watch out!

-Dammit!

He cut me!

Filth, he cut me. -Raymond, are you okay?

Raymond groans.

-Goddammit.

-What happened? -Nothing.

-But you're bleeding! -No!

-There's a doctor

who comes on Sundays.

-Hurry up! Yes...

-Who was it?

-The Arabs from earlier.

-They followed us?

-Surely.

-What do they want? -I don't know.

-Weren't you afraid?

-No, not really.

-I want to leave.

-Marie.

Dramatic music

Well?

-Well, the doctor said it was nothing.

-I'm going back.

-Where? -I'm going for a walk.

-Stop, Raymond! -Don't piss me off.

-We're coming with you.

-Hey! Go to hell, that's it.

-What are you doing?

-I'm going. -Are you sure?

Dark music

-They're still there.

He speaks Arabic.

What do I do,

should I shoot him? [alt.] should I gun him down?

-What, no? -Not if he doesn't pull his knife.

-No. Take him man to man and give me your revolver.

-If he pulls his knife, I'll shoot him. -Yeah, well,

here.

-Well then, a piece and everyone vanishes, eh?

Well, let's get out of here.

-Oh, Raymond... are you okay?

-Yes, there's no need to panic like that!

By seeing evil everywhere, you attract it.

-I want to leave.

-Would you like something to drink?

Dramatic music

Gunshots

-It was then that everything wavered.

The sea carried a thick, fiery breath.

It seemed the sky opened up across its whole expanse

to let it rain fire.

My whole being tensed and I gripped the revolver.

The trigger gave way,

I touched the polished belly of the butt, and it was then,

in the sound both sharp and deafening, that everything began.

I shook off the sweat and the sun.

I understood that I had destroyed the balance of the day,

the exceptional silence of a beach where I had been happy.

So, I fired four more times into an inert body

where the bullets sank in without it showing.

And it was like four brief knocks

that I was striking on the door of misfortune.

Dark music

...Snoring

The door opens.

Birds singing

-Come on, we're taking you.

He exhales.

Birds singing

Meursault exhales.

Birds singing

The door closes.

Prisoners' shouts

-Can I have a cigarette? -No.

Seagull cries

The door opens.

-Good day, I am your court-appointed counsel.

You did not wish for a lawyer, but...

every man deserves to be defended.

It is the law.

Information has been gathered about your private life.

It is known that your maman died

at the asylum.

The investigators wrote that...

"you showed a lack of feeling" during the funeral. [alt.] "you displayed insensitivity"

Is that true?

It is awkward for me, but it is very important.

It could be a heavy argument for the prosecution.

Were you pained, that day? [alt.] Did you feel grief,

that day?

-I've lost the habit of questioning myself. [alt.] I'm no longer in the habit of examining my own mind.

-But you loved your maman?

-Doubtless, like everyone else. [alt.] Probably, like everyone else.

But we have all wished for the death of a loved one.

-You must not say that at the hearing,

nor before the examining magistrate.

-When I buried maman, I was very tired,

I was sleepy,

I didn't realize what was happening.

And obviously, I would have preferred she didn't die.

-Could you say at the hearing

that on that day, you mastered your natural feelings?

Your emotions?

-No.

Because it's false. [alt.] Because that's untrue.

-I'm warning you, the staff from the home will testify.

It could play a dirty trick on you.

-I don't see what that has to do with my case. [alt.] I don't see the connection to my case.

-Listen, you are neither the first nor the last to kill an Arab.

That is not what you will be blamed for.

So trust me,

I know French justice.

-Meursault!

You have a visitor.

The door opens.

Hubbub in the distance

Mixed discussions, in Arabic and French

-I'm here!

I'm here.

-I saw the lawyer yesterday! -And?

Do you have everything you want?

-Yes, everything.

-Raymond and Céleste send their regards.

-Thanks.

-I've gone back to work. -Jeanne, she didn't want to take him!

I said you'd get him back when you get out!

-Is he okay?

-He's very well! -You must keep hope!

When you get out, we'll get married.

-You think so?

-Yes.

You will be acquitted.

We can go for a swim again, swim together.

-Be careful, I love you!

-You have nothing else to say to me?

Banging on the bars -It's over, let's go!

-I don't know.

-Goodbye, maman.

Banging on the bars -Come on, hurry up!

-What do you do with your days?

-Line up! Move forward!

-I'm killing time. [alt.] I'm passing the time.

I read an article

in an old newspaper,

a news item. [alt.] a human interest story.

-Yes?

-About a man in Czechoslovakia.

-Come on, come on!

-He had left to make his fortune.

After 25 years, he had become rich, married, and a father.

-So he returned to his village.

His maman ran a hotel with his sister, he wanted to surprise them.

Dark music

But they didn't recognize him.

To play a game, he took a room

and he showed his money.

At night, the maman and the sister went up to the room.

And to rob him, they killed him with a hammer.

Then they threw him into the river.

-Did that really happen?

-Yes.

The next day, when they realized whom they had killed,

the maman hanged herself,

and the daughter threw herself into a well.

-That's horrible!

-He deserved it. -Why do you say that?

-One should never play games.

-Play games? -Yes.

Why lie?

Dark music

She comforts her in Arabic.

(-Thank you.)

... Light hubbub

Today, I went back to the baths.

I swam to the buoy,

I lay in the sun,

I closed my eyes and...

I felt your head resting on my stomach.

When I opened my eyes again, you weren't there.

Why did you kill that man?

Why break this happiness that was waiting for us?

The door opens.

-Your hands.

Footsteps upstairs

-The court is taking its place.

Do you want a cigarette?

Are you nervous?

-No.

I'm curious, I've never seen a trial.

-You'll see,

it's tiring fast!

He exhales.

Buzzer [alt.] Bell

Light hubbub

The buzzer stops.

Light hubbub

A door opens.

Light hubbub

Silence falls.

-The court!

-The hearing is open.

Before starting, I ask the public to remain calm.

At the slightest incident, I will clear the courtroom.

We shall begin with the questioning

of Mr. Meursault.

Defendant, rise, please.

You are described as a taciturn person

and withdrawn.

What do you think of that?

-I never have much to say, so I keep quiet. [alt.] I have nothing much to say, so I stay silent.

-That is the best of reasons.

Besides, no matter, what interests us,

is you.

There are things that escape us and you must help us

to understand them.

First of all, do you regret your act?

-I feel rather a certain boredom. [alt.] I feel a kind of annoyance.

Protests

Tinkling [alt.] Gavel

-Silence!

Silence falls.

On the day of the tragedy, did you indeed fire 5 revolver shots in a row?

-I fired once

and after a few seconds, 4 more shots.

-Why did you wait between the 1st and 2nd shots?

And why did you fire at a body... on the ground?

Monsieur Meursault?

-Mr. President, my client is exhausted and with this heat...

-Fine, so be it.

So be it, so be it.

Mr. Prosecutor,

any questions?

-Yes, with your permission, I would like to ask Mr. Meursault,

when he returned to the beach near the spring,

was it indeed with the intention of killing the victim?

-No.

-Then why were you armed with a revolver?

And why return to that spot precisely?

-It was by chance. [alt.] It was an accident. Protests

-By chance?

Was it this chance that drove you to shoot a native?

-Yes.

-And 5 times?

-Yes.

-Thank you, Mr. President. Protests

Tinkling

-Silence, please! Silence!

-Mme Meursault complained about her son?

-Yes, but all the residents complain.

-She blamed him for putting her in the home? -Yes.

-And what did you notice in Mr. Meursault's attitude

on the day of the funeral?

-He was... very calm.

-Calm?

-Yes, it surprised me.

He did not want to see his maman's body, he did not cry

and he left without paying his respects at her grave.

Exclamations

-Mr. Meursault drank

white coffee, [alt.] coffee with milk,

he slept, smoked...

-But you smoked with him, did you not?

-Who is the criminal here?

And why besmirch the prosecution witnesses?

-Answer the question.

-I know I was wrong, but I did not dare refuse his cigarette.

-Mr. Meursault, is that correct?

-Yes, I offered him a cigarette.

-But... it was I who offered him the white coffee.

Laughter -Thank you.

The gentlemen of the jury will appreciate that.

-I mostly knew Madame Meursault.

I only met her son once,

on the day of the funeral.

-And what did he do that day?

-Uh... I don't remember very well.

I was in too much pain and then...

I fainted.

I didn't see what he was doing...

-Did you see Mr. Meursault cry?

-No.

-But did you see him not crying?

-No.

-There is the image of this trial.

Everything is true and nothing is true!

Bursts of laughter

-Mr. Meursault was one of your clients? -Yes.

But he was mostly a friend.

A good man.

-He didn't speak just for the sake of it. [alt.] He didn't speak unless he had something to say.

-Did he pay his bill?

-Yes, those were details between us.

-And what do you think of his crime?

-To me, it's a misfortune, Mr. President.

-Can you elaborate?

-A real misfortune. -Thank you.

-A misfortune leaves you defenseless.

-Yes, understood. We are here precisely to judge these misfortunes.

-Thank you.

-Next witness!

-Did you know Mr. Meursault's maman? -Yes.

She was my neighbor.

But...

they had nothing left to say to each other.

The poor old woman didn't speak at all.

That's why he put her in the home.

One must understand.

-Very well.

-I would like to add something. -Yes.

-Mr. Meursault was always very kind to my dog.

Bursts of laughter

-Would you say, Mr. Salamano, that Mr. Meursault...

was kinder to your dog than to his maman?

Outraged exclamations

-Mmh...

-Thank you, Monsieur Salamano.

Next witness.

-Mademoiselle Cardona!

Serious music

-Good day, Mademoiselle. -Good day.

-How long have you known Mr. Meursault?

-We met

about 3 years ago,

but we had lost touch.

-What was the nature of your relationship with the accused?

-I am his friend. We were to be married.

We were to be married.

-Exactly when did your liaison begin?

-It was a year ago.

Last summer.

-The day after the death of Madame Meursault, was it not? [alt.] The day after Madame Meursault died?

-Yes, perhaps.

-And can you tell us about your meeting?

-I don't remember

the details.

-The details do not matter, we want the facts.

-We met again at the baths,

we swam together,

then we went to the cinema,

then...

-Yes?

Distant coughing

-We went to his place. Exclamations

-To his place?

-Yes.

-Following your statements,

I consulted the programs from that date.

Do you remember the film you saw?

-It was a film with Fernandel, I think.

-Gentlemen of the jury, the day after his maman's death,

this man was bathing,

beginning an irregular liaison,

and going to laugh at a film by Fernandel...

Le Schpountz!

Bursts of laughter

That says it all! [alt.] Enough said! -But no.

It's not that, there is something else!

I'm being forced to say the opposite of what I think.

Then tell us

what you think,

Mademoiselle Cardona.

-It was an accident.

A misunderstanding.

-An accident or a misunderstanding?

-You have to believe it.

It wasn't intentional.

He doesn't lie.

Never.

-I thank you.

Final witness. -Mr. Raymond Sintès!

-Mr. President, Meursault is innocent.

Laughter

-We did not ask for your opinion.

(-I'm saying it anyway.) -Just the facts.

What was the nature of your relationship with the victim?

-The victim did not like me much because I happened to slap his sister.

-Did the victim have reasons to hate Mr. Meursault?

-No, it was chance, [alt.] it was a coincidence,

their meeting on the beach. -But it was Mr. Meursault

who wrote the letter at the origin of this tragedy?

-Yes, but it was chance.

-Chance again! Mmh.

The same chance, I imagine,

when you slap your mistress and he does not intervene.

-Yes, exactly.

-And when he serves as your witness with false statements.

-That's it. -What are

your means of existence, Mr. Sintès? [alt.] how do you make a living?

-I'm a warehouseman.

He laughs. -Really?

-Yes, really. -Gentlemen of the jury,

it is common knowledge that Mr. Raymond Sintès,

witness for the defense,

is a pimp by trade. [alt.] is a procurer.

And that the victim's sister

was a native prostitute

whom he forced to work in a brothel.

Exclamations -Nonsense. Rubbish.

-And the accused, Mr. Meursault, was his accomplice

in a sordid drama of the worst kind. [alt.] a villainous affair.

-He's starting to annoy me. This is all nonsense!

-Mr. Prosecutor, continue. -I have little to add.

Ah, yes! Uh...

The accused... was he your friend?

-Yes, he was...

Well, he's my pal.

-And you, Mr. Meursault, would you say he was your friend?

-Yes.

-He thus killed a native for trivial reasons, [alt.] for futile reasons,

to help his pal, the day after his maman's death.

-But is Mr. Meursault

accused of killing an Arab or of burying his maman?

-There is between these two sets of facts

a profound relationship, pathetic, essential.

And I accuse this man

of burying a maman with the heart of a criminal. [alt.] with a criminal's heart.

Exclamations

Tinkling -The session is adjourned.

The proceedings will resume tomorrow.

-I am sorry for your brother.

-My brother, nobody gives a damn about him.

He's an Arab.

Only your Frenchman matters with his maman.

He should go home.

-His home is here.

Djemila laughs.

Dark music

Djemila cries.

... Light hubbub

... Call to prayer

-Come on, let's go.

Come on, move forward.

-Gentlemen of the jury,

I shall provide before you proof of the crime's premeditation

and I shall do so doubly.

Under the blinding clarity of the facts, as already established,

but also under the dark light

provided by the psychology of this criminal soul.

Indeed,

this man... killed with full knowledge of his actions.

I insist on this because it is not an ordinary murder, [alt.] not a common assassination,

a thoughtless act that you might deem mitigated by circumstances.

This man... This man, gentlemen, this man

is intelligent.

He knows how to answer.

He knows the value of words.

And he did not act without realizing what he was doing.

Furthermore, has he expressed any regret?

Never, gentlemen.

Never.

Not once during the investigation has this man

appeared moved by his abominable crime.

I have nonetheless peered into the soul of the accused,

but I found nothing.

In truth, he has none. [alt.] In truth, he has no soul.

None of the moral principles of men

is accessible to him.

For here before us stands

a man who morally kills his maman

and cuts himself off from the society

whose most essential rules he ignores

and whose elementary reactions of the human heart

he disregards.

And the horror his crime inspires in me is almost surpassed by that which I feel

at his lack of feeling. [alt.] at his insensitivity.

Never have I felt

this painful duty

compensated, enlightened, balanced

by the consciousness of a sacred and imperious command

and by the horror I feel before a face

where I read nothing but the monstrous.

I therefore simply ask you for this man's head.

Murmurs of surprise

-Mr. Meursault?

Mr. Meursault?

Do you have anything to add?

Mr. President, I did not intend to kill the Arab.

Murmurs

-But this Arab was indeed threatening you with his weapon?

-I don't know. Murmurs

-I find it difficult to grasp your defense system,

and it would be welcome if you clarified the motives

that inspired your act.

He exhales.

-It was because of the sun. [alt.] It was on account of the sun.

Protests

Tinkling

-Silence, please!

The floor belongs to the defense. -Sit down.

-Mr. President,

gentlemen of the jury,

I too have peered into the soul of Mr. Meursault,

but unlike the eminent representative of the prosecution,

I found something there

and I read it like an open book:

an honest man,

of modest means,

a steady worker,

tireless,

a model son

who supported his maman as long as he could.

Hoping that a retirement home

would offer the old woman all the comfort

that his means did not allow him to provide.

But...

I am surprised, gentlemen,

that such a fuss has been made about this home.

For after all, if proof were needed

of the utility and the greatness of these institutions,

it must be said that it is the State itself that subsidizes them.

So, yes...

it is true,

I killed. [alt.] I have killed.

Exclamations

Yes, I killed a native,

certainly considered... -Why is he saying "I"?

-Lawyers often do that.

-But it was a gesture of pure reflex,

in a moment of confusion,

under a leaden sun,

in an overwhelming heat,

facing the mortal threat

of an Arab holding a weapon,

that very knife

which had already wounded Mr. Sintès,

my friend.

Thumping heartbeat

The lawyer becomes inaudible.

Thumping heartbeat

... be guilty!

But if he is blamed

for feeling no emotion,

it is his right,

it is his freedom.

In the name of what should society punish

a man

for an absence of tears?

Door

Well, everything will be fine. A few years in prison

or at hard labor.

I did not file any submissions so as not to upset the jury.

And anyway, there is the appeal. But the outcome will be favorable.

Buzzer

-Bring in the accused!

Light hubbub

After the deliberations,

the accused is found guilty of premeditated murder.

The jury having found no extenuating circumstances,

Mr. Meursault shall have his head cut off in a public square.

Cries of joy

Tinkling

Silence!

Silence, please!

Gloomy music

Mr. Meursault,

do you have anything to add?

-No. -Gendarmes, remove the accused.

The hearing is adjourned. Acclamations

Wind blowing

Sigh

Wind blowing

-One day, in Algiers,

your father got up at dawn to see the execution of a murderer.

He was sick at the thought of going.

But he did it.

When he returned home,

he vomited all morning.

Wind blowing

The blade falls.

Someone approaches.

Metallic clang -Meursault!

The chaplain is here,

do you want to see him?

-No.

Dark music

He exhales.

He exhales.

He exhales.

A door opens.

Calm music

-Did you miss me?

-How should I know? [alt.] How can one tell?

Now that our bodies are separated, nothing binds us anymore.

I had made my peace with it. [alt.] I had resigned myself.

I thought you were tired of being the wife of a man condemned to death.

Or that you were sick,

dead.

-Are you not too bored?

-No.

Yesterday, I thought back to my room.

To the furniture,

to their places,

and then to every object that was there.

I try each time not to lose the thread of my inventory.

It takes hours.

I believe that a man

who had lived for only a single day

could easily live a hundred years in prison.

He would have enough memories not to be bored.

You know, Marie,

I would understand if you forgot me after my death.

That you might love other men.

If you were dead too, you would no longer interest me.

It's normal.

(-But you are not going to die.)

-If my appeal is rejected, I shall die.

Then dying at 30 or 70, what does it matter? [alt.] what importance does it have?

In either case, other men

and other women will come and live after me,

for thousands of years.

(-And if you are pardoned?)

The door opens.

The door closes.

-Do not be afraid.

This is a friendly visit.

-Do you know about my appeal?

-No,

I know nothing.

Why have you refused my visits? -I do not believe in God.

-Are you certain of that?

-It is a question of no importance. [alt.] It doesn't matter.

-Really?

I am not sure of what interests me,

but I am sure of what does not interest me.

And what you speak of, it doesn't interest me. [alt.] I don't care about it.

-You speak out of an excess of despair.

-I am not despondent.

I am only afraid, which is normal.

-Then God will help you.

All those in your position turn toward Him.

-And that is their choice.

As for me, I do not want help.

-I do not speak thus because you are condemned to death; we all are.

-That is no consolation.

-True.

But if it is not today, you will die later.

The same question will arise.

How will you face your final hour?

-Exactly as I face it today.

-Do you then have no hope?

And do you live with the thought that you are going to die entirely?

Body and soul?

-Yes.

-I pity you.

Meursault inhales.

I have the certainty that your appeal will be accepted.

But you carry the weight of a sin of which you must rid yourself.

(Man's justice is nothing,)

(God's justice... is everything.)

-It was the former that condemned me.

-Yes, but it has not thereby washed away your sin.

-I do not know what a sin is.

I was only told that I was guilty.

So I am paying.

I am paying, but nothing more should be asked of me.

-You are mistaken, my son.

Meursault exhales.

More could be asked of you.

Perhaps it will be asked. -What, then?

-You could be asked to see...

-To see what?

-When I see these walls...

Dark music

... all these stones

that sweat with pain...

I have never been able to look at them without anguish.

But in the depths of my heart, I know

that even the most miserable among you

have seen a divine face emerge from their darkness.

That is what I ask you to see.

-I've been looking at these walls for months.

I know them by heart.

I looked for a face there for a long time.

That of Marie.

I looked for it in vain.

Now, it's over. [alt.] It's finished now.

(-Allow me to embrace you.)

-Have you ever wished for another life?

-Naturally, but it no longer matters.

-How do you see it, this other life?

-A life where I could remember this one.

-That's enough now, leave. -I still wish to speak to you of God.

-Monsieur, I have little time left to live.

I will not waste it on your God.

-Why do you call me "Monsieur" and not "Father"?

-You are not my father, you are with the others.

-No, my son, I am with you.

But you cannot know it because you have a blind heart.

(I will pray for you.)

-Stop.

Stop!

With your prayers.

I don't want them.

Your certainties are not worth a woman's hair.

You are not even sure of being alive,

you live like a dead man.

I may seem to have empty hands,

but I am sure of myself,

sure of everything.

Of this life, here,

as of this death that awaits me.

So yes, I have only that.

But I hold this truth

as much as it holds me.

I did this, I did not do that,

I lived one way, I could have lived another. And then? [alt.] So what?

Nothing.

Nothing matters. [alt.] Nothing is of any importance.

And I know well why.

And you too,

you know why!

All of this life is absurd!

What do I care about the death of others,

a maman's love, your God, the lives one chooses...

What does it matter if I kill a Frenchman or an Arab

if I am executed for not having wept for my maman.

What does it matter if Marie wants me to marry her. Or that...

Salamano's dog is worth as much as his wife!

Or that Sintès is as much my pal as Céleste, who is worth much more!

What does it matter if Marie gives her mouth to another!

Do you understand?

(-Calm down.)

-Don't touch me. -Calm down.

-Answer me. Do you understand or not?

-Guards!

-Do you understand?

We are all guilty! And we are all condemned!

Indistinct shouts

-Let him go! -Answer me!

-Do not hurt him.

Indistinct cry

Meursault pants.

Leave him.

Call to prayer

-For the first time in a very long time,

I thought of Maman.

Calm music

It seemed to me that I understood why, at the end of a life,

she had taken a fiancé.

Why she had played at starting over.

There,

there too,

around that home where lives were flickering out,

evening was like a melancholy truce.

So close to death, Maman must have felt freed there,

and ready to live it all again.

No one,

no one had the right to weep over her.

Dark music

And I too,

I felt ready to live it all again.

Calm music

As if this great anger had purged me of evil,

emptied me of hope.

Before this night laden with signs and stars,

I opened myself for the first time to the tender indifference of the world.

Finding it so much like myself,

so fraternal at last...

...I felt that I had been happy,

and that I was still happy.

For everything to be consummated,

so that I might feel less alone,

it remained for me to wish for many spectators

on the day of my execution,

and that they greet me

with cries of hate.

Wind blowing

Cries of gulls

Wind blowing

Subtitles: Tiphaine Merahi

Subtitling: TransPerfect Media France