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A MONKEY IN WINTER

Based on the novel
by Antoine Blondin

With your European comrades,

wearing the SS badge

you shall be victorious!

Seaman Esnault, fit out the junk!
We cast off in five minutes.

Aye, aye, Cap'n!

Albert!

Please don't make a big mess again,
like last time.

Madame, our right to sail
on the Yangtze Kiang

was formally agreed by
the Convention of 3rd August 1885.

Would you contest that?

I don't contest anything.

I'm just asking you
not to break everything,

like the other day.

Sorry about that.

But Sun Yat-sen's men
were causing trouble.

I stemmed the revolt in the bud.
And without needless violence.

We lopped off only the bad heads.
Seaman Esnault can testify.

- My word of honour!
- Right.

We shall continue
with our civilising mission.

First, I shall convey
the latest orders

of Admiral Guépratte,

as rectified by yours truly,
Quartermaster Quentin.

The Admiral intends us

to bore an underground channel

linking the Huang Ho
to the Yangtze Kiang.

The Yangtze Kiang, right.

You know, of course,
that Huang Ho means "Yellow River",

and Yangtze Kiang, "Blue River".

But have you taken in
the grandiose nature of this mixture?

A green river!

Green, like the forest.
Like hope!

Seaman Esnault,
we are going to repaint Asia

in a more tender colour.

We shall bring spring
to this besmirched land!

Right.

As you're being good,
I'll leave you.

I have customers to serve.

Hey, native girl,
show some manners!

We know all about your "customers".

Those Wehrmacht lechers
and that fornicating Feldwebel!

I won't tell you any more stories!

Albert, don't get angry.

"Don't get angry"?
Bloody hell!

I give you tricolour rivers,

mountains of flowers
and holy temples,

and you turn it
into a knocking shop!

You plonk your Normandy Babylon
in the China Sea!

- Seaman Esnault.
- Cap'n?

We'll burn the village.
Where are the grenades?

Monsieur Quentin!

Please calm down.
I ask you to forgive me.

A surrender? So be it.

An iron hand in a velvet glove.

- Seaman, take up your paddles!
- Aye, aye, Cap'n.

Watch out for rocks.

And above all, beware of mirages.

The Yangtze Kiang is not a river,
it's an avenue,

a 5,000-km avenue,

tumbling from Tibet
down to the Yellow Sea,

with junks and sampans
floating by on either side.

In the middle there are whirlpools
and floating islands,

with orchids as tall as trees.

The Yangtze Kiang, Comrade,

is millions of cubic metres of gold
flowing towards Nanking,

with, all along, floating villages
where you can buy anything you want:

rice alcohol, religions,

slatterns and opium.

I can confirm, Madame,
that the marines

were for a long time a permanent
fixture of the tea houses.

In those days
we knew how to have fun.

She ended up penniless
for a ginger wise-guy

A Jew he was,
his garlic smell high

Leaving Formosa, he took her
from a brothel in Shanghai

That's lovely.

It's not mine.

Verses come back to me
as I sail down the river.

I thought it was an avenue.

Who knows?

Maybe it's just a dream,
cast into the river.

Them and their bloody war!

Wait for me!

Achtung, Monsieur! Achtung!

Go on, down to the cellar.

They're bombing Le Havre.

Le Havre? You're drunk.
Le Havre is on the other side.

They're dropping on us!

Get down!

Well,

it's time we got back to our wives.
They'll be worried.

And with good reason.

It's starting again!

- It's nothing, I tell you.
- Nothing? Nothing?

Nothing!

- What are you doing?
- I don't want to die scruffy.

Fix your funeral attire later.
Get a move on!

Damn you!

Albert!

Down the pan with the Krauts!
Bunch of turd-eaters!

Stop it, Albert.
You'll get us shot.

Without a blindfold.
I'll give the order myself,

like Marshal Ney.

"Aim for the heart, gentlemen!"

Stop playing at soldiers.

I don't see what soldiers
have to do with it.

I'm Quartermaster Quentin
of the Far East Expeditionary Force!

Attention! Hoist the colours!

At ease!

They're having their fun.

I heard that the Germans will blow
everything up before they leave.

It's their right.

A soldier in retreat

is allowed certain
recreational compensations.

I got up to a bit of mischief
myself.

I know what I'm talking about.

If you drank less,
you'd be scared too.

If I drank less, I wouldn't be me.
I don't fancy that.

You think it's clever to die drunk?

It'll make a great impression
in town!

Whatever will people say?

I'll die drunk, but on my feet.
I don't care about gossip!

History will be the judge.

Why should I drink
less today than usual?

The bloody idiots
will destroy everything!

Albert, I'm scared.

Drink!

My dear Suzanne, where are you?

Suzanne?

Where?

Listen, Suzanne.

What I'm about to tell you
is serious.

Grave, even.

If we survive,

if the house remains standing
and one day my sign is lit again,

I swear I'll never touch
another drop.

Never.

Watch.

This may be my last.

I'm coming!

- Tigreville?
- Jump in.

- Is it far?
- Six kilometres.

Will there be a hotel open?

It's not the season.

I'll show you what there is.

Usually,
you'd have Les Roches Noires.

The best place around here.

But they close on 15th September.

You'd have been better off
staying in Deauville.

Some decent hotels there.

In Cannes too. Or Palma.

But I have no business there.

I was just saying.

Quentin's place is open.

But it's no barrel of laughs.

- I didn't come here to laugh.
- Fair enough.

Quentin!

Albert!

- What is it?
- A customer.

Be right down.

- How much?
- 1,500 for the fare.

And 500 for the conversation.

- Keep the lot.
- Thanks.

- 'Evening, Albert.
- 'Evening.

Do you have a room?

I've got 14 of them.
Come on in, Monsieur.

If you'll follow me...

If you came for a swim,

you should know the season's over.

"Season"! The peasants say
there are no seasons any more.

Do you still have one here?

The first half of August,
in a good year.

Will you be staying long?

I don't know.

There.

It looks perfect.

You can fill in the form tomorrow.

Do you need anything?

What can I get to drink?

Well, there's Vittel,
Evian, Perrier...

Actually, I'm not thirsty.

As you wish.
Goodnight, Monsieur.

- Who was it?
- A guest.

- What did he say?
- What do you think?

He asked for a room,
I gave him number 8.

It's an odd time to arrive.
Especially in this weather.

That's what travellers do: travel.

The weather doesn't come into it.

- Listen.
- What?

You can't tell me that's normal.

What's abnormal
about looking for the lav?

Looking for something?

The door.

Straight ahead.

Close it on your way out, eh?

Gentlemen!

- What will Monsieur have?
- A Picon beer.

Monsieur Esnault, a Picon beer,
is it half and half?

It may be later, but not yet.

I need a bit of a run-up first.

I have my own recipe.

And put in a phone call for me.

- Local?
- No.

Paris?

Madrid. It's all written down here.

Monsieur Esnault,

how do I telephone Madrid?

A bit of silence, please!
I'm phoning Spain.

Mademoiselle Claire what?

Claire Prévost.

This is Tigreville 14.
I want Madrid 39-48-00.

- In Spain?
- Yes, in Spain.

Calling
a Mademoiselle Claire Prévost.

It'll be a few minutes.

- Hello! Reverse the charges.
- Very well.

Thank you.

It'll be a few minutes.

While I wait, what'll you have?

A calvados.

A calvados for Monsieur.

And for me,

the same again,

in the same colour.

They go to bed early over there.

Oh, are you staying at Quentin's?

You'll have fun!

Great service,
as long as you're not thirsty.

I don't think they even serve wine
with dinner.

Good old Albert!

He jumped right on that wagon.

He used to be
a jolly drinking partner.

And I should know.

Come on.

We were a pair, 15 years ago!

Known throughout the region.

- The two of you?
- You can say that again!

Then, one day, it was all over.
Not a drop, total abstinence.

That was when he changed.

And for the worse.

What do you mean by "the worse"?

Keeping to himself, pretentious,
not being like everyone else.

- Putting on airs.
- He always had airs.

Didn't he do his military service
in China, after all?

Like the high-brow books
he's always read.

You think he just reads the paper?
Think again!

A trunk full of books.

Remember him boring us with...

What was that writer's name again?

Fat fellow,
sounds like a fizzy water.

Apollinarès?

Apollinaris.

He was always odd,
but at least he communicated.

When he stopped drinking
he went shifty.

He doesn't say a word.
What's going on in here?

Billoux, who worked for him,
says he has these dizzy spells.

Maybe so. If he had
cancer or cirrhosis of the liver,

I'd doff my hat to him.

But why won't he just say so?

That must be Madrid.

Hold the line.

It's Madrid.

Hello, is that the Mora residence?

Mademoiselle Claire Prévost.

Hello?

Who's calling?

Answer me! Who is that?

What can he be doing over there?

Getting what's no longer
available here.

Do you miss it?

Why would I miss it?

I've got my sweets.

Come back to bed.

The only thing I had against Hitler

was his moustache.

Another bottle!

Joséphine, tell the gentleman
what you did under the Occupation.

I'd write to the Kommandantur

to inform against the criminals.

I denounced you over ten times
for black marketing.

They never believed me.

I told you she was a character.

Good health, Monsieur!

A round to bring you luck!

Your first time in Tigreville,
but not your last.

We get 20,000 Parisians every year.

Some have been coming
since before the war.

Nowhere's better for the iodine.

Not even Berck.

One newspaper called us
"the Normandy California".

To Tigreville!

Gentlemen...

Your hospitality overwhelms me,

but will not affect my judgement.

I have travelled a fair bit.

On the basis of that I can tell you

that this hole is so awful
it shouldn't be allowed,

and that the weather here is filthy!

- I assume Monsieur is joking?
- Absolutely not.

Know how many days of sunshine
we got in July? Seventeen!

Sunshine, my arse!

You don't know what sunshine is.

You've never seen real sunshine.

That's sunshine!

Let's have no empty glasses!

That's enough!

He might be armed.

Here, I'm paying.

My people will be coming.

They're Gypsies.
Treat them like me.

I'll treat you to a boot
up the backside!

Get back, Eskimos!

I'll go home alone.

A matador always goes home alone.
The greater he is, the lonelier.

I'll leave you to your ice floes,
your igloos,

your penguins...

Por favor, Señora.

What time is the Madrid train?

In five minutes.
Hurry or you'll miss it!

Now get out!

Help him across the road.
He'll never make it alone.

Picon beer is unforgiving.
It killed my dad.

A treacherous drink.

Come on.

Let's go.

- I tripped over a seal trap.
- It's nothing.

Come on, lean on me.

You've got a nice face.

- Is this the station?
- Yes.

- Do you want a platform ticket?
- Don't bother.

Bye, then.

Bon voyage!

That's him coming back.

What did I tell you?

Damn!

Hello, Daddy!

What happened to you?

Stepped off
while the train was moving.

That must be it.

Here, hold on.

Careful.

Come on.

It's a good thing I have you,
Daddy dear.

- "Daddy" doesn't bother you?
- Not at all.

We'll have a little nightcap
and not tell anyone.

Thanks, but I don't drink.

Maybe the Señora
wants to drink a toast.

The Señora wants to sleep.
Come on.

Come on.

I'll take you to the Prado.

Do you know the Prado?

A garden and a museum.

Nothing worth waking me up for.

Claire and I used to go all the time.

Two Prado cocktails

and we'd dream for 100 years.

And Claire?

Do you know her too?

- Your girlfriend?
- My girlfriend.

Who upped and left me.

That's not nice. Not nice at all.

You can't refuse a drink
with a chap who's been ditched.

I've told you, I don't drink.
Come on.

There.

Now I'll switch the light out
and you'll go to sleep.

I have a better idea.

I'll have two sherries sent up.

What is it? What's going on?

- Who rang?
- No one. Go back to bed, Marie-Jo.

I'll drink with your wife.

She's asleep, everyone's asleep.
Come on.

What's the world coming to?

We never went to bed
so early in Madrid.

I hope she'll do me the pleasure
of seeing me in the bullring.

I'll pass on your invitation.

It'll be full.

Luis Miguel always draws a big crowd.

I've long dreamt
of a triumph in Madrid.

The public will expect a lot.

Especially after Miguelito.

I'll have to take some risks.

I hope it goes well.

I'll wear my white suit.

My beginner's one.

Remember that debut in Toledo?

The cold wind, the hostile crowd

and the bull that wouldn't die.

I've finished off
a hundred since then.

I am the greatest French matador!

Gabriel Fouquet,

greater than Pierre Schull!

Do I intrigue you?

Perhaps.

What exactly?

Is it the matador, the "toro"

or Spain?

Travel. Your way of travelling.

Oh, that...

It's a secret.

I know it.
I used to ride the same vehicle.

And it wasn't a local train,
believe me.

Monsieur Fouquet,
I used to drink too,

and it took me further than Spain.

The Yangtze Kiang.
Have you heard of the Yangtze Kiang?

It takes up a lot of space
in a bedroom.

Right!

Two sherries, then?

I don't drink. I suck sweets.

Does that take you far?

Still to China.

But it's not the same. Now
it's a sort of antiquarian's China.

Sailing down the Yangtze Kiang
in one night is out of the question.

A short stretch here,
a short stretch there...

But not every night.
The sweets act as a cork.

Goodnight.

- Daddy.
- Yes?

I think I missed the Madrid train.

When one has the dreams
that you have,

one doesn't fret over a missed train.

Know what you remind me of?

One of those monkeys

that wander around lost
when winter comes in China.

What happened?

He had one too many, that's all.

What did you talk about?

Monkeys.

Monkeys and monkey business.

Look at these bream.

- 'Morning!
- How much are the rouget?

They're spoken for.

And I want a word about last night!

- Last night?
- Don't pretend.

Your Spanish guest.

A dozen broken glasses.

I told you 15 years ago
not to talk to me.

Why not just refuse his custom?

My answer to that
is that I did kick him out.

There are enough drunks
around here as it is.

A drunk?

Pretty much, yes.

Even boozy old Bardasse
was shocked.

You mention my Spaniard and Bardasse
in the same breath?

A grand duke and an old soak.

A duke?

Yes, Monsieur!

A prince of the tipple! A lord!

The kind you once drank with,
but whose spirit you never shared.

Such lords scorn you
and your befuddled customers.

They're a thousand drinks away,

up there with the angels!

We can hold our drink
without thinking we're God Almighty.

That's exactly what I mean.

You're mean-spirited boozers.

You don't deserve to drink!

Do you know why the Spaniard drinks?

To forget boors like you.

- How much?
- 300 a kilo.

My name's on half.

I'll take the lot.
Prepare them for me.

Can't discuss anything with you!

You're too stupid.

About time!

Monsieur?

Oh, no, not that!

Get me a Vichy water.

- What's being said downstairs?
- About what?

- Last night.
- Monsieur Quentin never gossips.

- Yesterday is yesterday.
- And today is today?

Your boss is good sense personified.

I'm coming down.

What are we going to do
with all them?

I don't know.
But I couldn't let Esnault have them.

Has he got up yet?

Need anything, Monsieur Fouquet?

- About last night...
- What?

- I didn't cause too much trouble?
- Not too much.

Good. We talked for quite a while.

I'm no good with names,
but one is now engraved here.

The Yangtze Kiang.

I remember complicated things.
"Anti-constitutionalism",

Mérimée's dictation,
the kings of Egypt.

Now I can add the Yangtze Kiang.

Sorry, but there are times
for talking and times for working.

Time, to me...

At least I didn't offend you.

You have to get up very early
to offend me.

Or go to bed much later.

- Spying on a guest, Madame Quentin?
- Monsieur Fouquet!

Killers and thieves
read all the newspapers.

A hunted man must keep informed.

With these identikits,
I have to change my look every day.

Yesterday, I think,
I was a man who likes a drink.

What will I be tomorrow?

I see that you like a joke.

- Can we walk together a little?
- Be my guest.

Monsieur Fouquet,
do you plan to stay with us long?

Maybe the question surprises you.

Your husband asked the same thing
last night.

What was your answer?

I said I didn't know.

If you're just going to stay
for two or three days,

I shall say no more.

But if you plan on staying longer...

How can I put this?

Albert spoke to you
about the Yangtze Kiang.

Well, he mustn't.
It's not good for him.

You must think me a silly woman.

This isn't how I meant to put it.

"We're a happy household.
Clear off!"

- To put it bluntly?
- Yes.

Please understand.
Albert now behaves impeccably.

I'm afraid you'll restore
his taste for travel.

- If you're voyaging in China...
- Spain.

- Sorry?
- With me, it's Spain.

See, you can sleep easy.

Well, if it's Spain...

Without wishing to be nosy,

why are you in Tigreville?

- Resting? Business?
- Shopping.

Do you know of a clothes shop?

Menswear or women's?

For a young girl.

Then you'll want Bluebeard's shop.

We call him that because
he's bearded and twice widowed.

Go along the beach,
it's the first street going up.

- "Au Chic Parisien".
- Thanks.

Blanchette...

Anyone there?

Blanchette, you bad girl!

You escaped.
That's very naughty of you.

Back with your friends.

You wanted something, Monsieur?

A warm garment.

A pullover, for a young girl.

A young girl.

A young girl...

I haven't stocked clothes
for young girls for a long time.

- How old?
- Ten.

- A big ten or a small ten?
- Small.

You're not just trying to please me?

Because I may have
just what you're looking for.

Dear Monsieur, we've been waiting
for you for thirty years.

"We"?

This and I.

Look at it.

I'm afraid it may still be too big.

I knew you'd think that.
Everyone thinks that.

- You don't know Queensland wool.
- No, but I know my daughter.

Listen carefully.

Not only is it not too big,
it couldn't be.

Want to know why?

Because it was knitted to order
for a dwarf.

- Ever heard of Puppy Schneider?
- No.

You're too young.

Puppy Schneider.

She was a huge success
in 1920s high society.

An American millionaire,
Walter Kroutchen,

saw her in a circus and was smitten.
Big men love little women.

But not usually that small!

He ordered that pullover,
knitted to a pattern by Van Dongen.

Then came the Wall Street crash
of '29,

Kroutchen committed suicide,

Puppy went back to the circus

and I was left with the pullover.

All that to tell you
that this isn't any old garment.

Are you sure
Puppy Schneider never wore it?

On my oath!

Do you have a lot of old stuff?

Things you would never suspect!

Guess what you're sitting on.

Don't be afraid!

Fireworks

Clever boy.

Another order from Kroutchen,
for Puppy's birthday.

Enough to light up a whole town.

Until the next time.

And if, some day,
you need anything at all...

And I mean anything at all.

I shall not be so foolish
as to go anywhere else.

- Send the bill to the Hôtel Stella.
- There's no rush.

Until the next time.

Closing already?

You told me to send the bill.

No sooner said than done!

Dillon School
Day pupils and boarders

Gabriel!

Well, well!
What are you doing around here?

- Have we met?
- You were drunker than I thought.

I put you on the train, remember?

- Last night?
- Yes.

I see.

I hate to presume on you again.

- Could you give this...
- No, I'd get shouted at.

Go over there.

About that train business...
can I count on your discretion?

You're not getting out of it
that easy!

The drinks are on you tonight.

Monsieur, the staff
do not accept tips.

What can I do for you?

Can you give this to Marie Fouquet?

If you'd care to follow me.

Come in.

Your visit will make everyone happy.

We were starting to fear that
little Fouquet had been forgotten.

May I? We check all parcels
intended for our boarders.

Purely routine, of course.

I imagined you older.

Marie is lucky
to have such a young father.

I'm not her father, I'm her cousin.
A distant cousin.

I'll fetch her anyway.

- I don't want to disturb her.
- It doesn't happen very often.

The headmistress.

I didn't know she was English.

She isn't. She just pretends.

Ten years ago,

she suddenly started
speaking English,

probably in order to impress
the pupils' parents.

The silly thing is,
I had to start too!

We can't have questions in English
and the answers in French.

That was Joan of Arc's downfall.

Quite.

For ten years
I nursed General Marvier,

hero of the Bec d'Ambès,

I closed the eyes of a senator,

and my devoted care helped
Magda Colobina

tread the boards again.

But I can tell you now,

I have never made such sacrifices
as I have for Madame Victoria!

Madame.

I'll be two minutes.

They've been knocking back
the Bordeaux this year.

Remind me to call Courtine.

Don't take this the wrong way,

but, you know,
when you live with someone,

you end up guessing certain things.

- You feel them.
- Feel what?

Nothing precise,
just a sort of an idea.

For the last four days
I've felt that you're different.

Since Monsieur Fouquet came,
you don't realise, but...

Now we're getting to it!

My dear Suzanne, you have just
committed your first faux pas.

Some women confess a whole life
of infidelity to their husbands.

You've admitted to 15 years
of suspicion. That's worse.

But maybe you're right.
"Once a drinker"...

The proverb is against us.

Don't worry, I'm joking.
What could happen to me?

I have a wife taking care of me,

a job that keeps me busy
and sweets to distract me.

I might give up the sweets, though.

Why? If it's not a bad habit...

There are no good habits.

A habit is a sort of slow death.

Project for a double ad:

underwear and washing powder.

Are you ready?

On stage, Richelieu.

Yes, of course the Cardinal!

He's listening as a bearded monk
whispers in his ear.

Suddenly, from the wings,

leaps an athlete
in spotless white underpants.

Richelieu dismisses the monk
with a wave,

points to the athlete
and says to the audience,

"My eminence may well be grey,

"but his is Persil white!"

Yes, there aren't any women in it.

We'll see about that.

Second project.

A cartoon treatment
for Lustucru pasta.

A cat is trying to climb
into a bowl of spaghetti.

Up leaps Father Lustucru,
a ladle in his hand. Dialogue...

Father Lustucru: "Paws off!"

Cat, with a big grin:

"But Lustucru pasta
is purr-fection!"

And get the voices right.

Toned down for Lustucru,

with plenty of echo.

That's it! Goodbye.

It's sad to see a young man
dining alone.

But if I invite him over here
you'll think I'm up to something.

Forget about that.

Monsieur Fouquet.

We'll get no customers at this hour.
Would you care to join us?

With pleasure, dear Madame.

- May I?
- No, you're our guest.

Marie-Jo!

Set a place for Monsieur Fouquet.

Better to have the devil
where you can see him, eh?

I don't know what you mean,
Monsieur Fouquet.

Here, tell me what you think of this.

My wife will keep you company.

- Marie-Jo!
- Yes, Monsieur?

Come and open this bottle.

Be it revolution or paella,

nothing they do in Spain
is ever simple.

A paella without shellfish

is lamb without garlic,
a crook without a medal.

It's offensive to God.

In my loving days,
I cooked paella like no one else.

Claire recognised my talent.

I hope my tribulations
haven't affected it.

Why do you drink?

I've been asked that question before,
Headmaster.

No doubt by people
who are fond of you.

No doubt.

Claire would ask it
three times a week.

She must have loved me.

I didn't think you liked questions.

True. I prefer answers.

Strange. Claire too.

"Gabriel, do you love me?"

"Gabriel, why do you drink?"

"Is it sensible to get yourself
in such a state?"

They say
they want to stop us drinking,

but really they just want
to bottle us up.

I think they're simply afraid.

Afraid of what?

I've never been a nasty drunk.

More an affectionate one.

Grotesquely so.

My charm was in being unexpected.

That's where you've got it all wrong.

They like certainty.

They hate it when you're different
from their expectations.

Especially as it's rarely
a nice surprise.

Believe me,
I have my memories on the subject.

I can imagine Claire,
faced with your many drunken facets.

I bet you made her head spin.

Possibly.

Definitely!
Not that it's any of my business.

Perhaps I've abused
my position as your elder.

No harm done.

I've always looked younger than I am.

My daughter is ten.

Then you're an idiot!

Now you're abusing it.

When you have a child,
there are things you cannot do.

What's her name?

Marie.

I came here to get her, and then...

She's at the Dillon School.

Tell me, Monsieur Quentin,
since we're being indiscreet,

in China, did you smoke opium?

Nothing indiscreet about that.
On occasion, yes.

In Shanghai, Hong Kong.

All it did was make one daydream.

Don't you like dreams?

It depends on their quality.

These were the dreams of a marine.

Admiral Guépratte kissing my ear,

the tea tasting of aniseed.

Intoxicating fancies, nothing more.

And now?

Now I dream of smoking opium.

Must be the change of life.

Here's the Dillon School.

I'll leave you with your family.

A bottle in the sea!

You'll see, Monsieur Fouquet.

One day you'll end up dreaming
that you're drinking.

Marie Fouquet, stop that!
Come here right now!

What way is that to behave?
Play over here.

Two,

three,

four, five!

Coming!

No hiding in the bunker!

What an idiot!

We'll shake her off next time.

Let her go. That'll teach her!

- Shall we go?
- What if she's there?

We'll tell her she's cheating.

They called him the ranger

He was as cunning as a fox

To fear he was a stranger

And he knew all the tricks

Along the boulevard, of an evening

When they saw his lady pass by

With one voice they would cry

"There goes the ranger's darling!"

Back then...

They could write songs!

Monsieur Fouquet,
your paella was splendid.

Whoever marries you
will be a lucky woman.

I fear one doesn't win a woman
with culinary virtues.

Or any kind of virtues.

I think we can appreciate
a tribute served on a plate.

If Albert had ever deigned
to cook just for me,

I'd have taken it as a compliment.

But not even an omelette!

What are you on about?
From October to April it's just us,

so for six months of the year
I cook only in homage to you.

That's true. How lovely!

Monsieur Fouquet,
have you been to La Bourboule?

- No.
- You're missing out.

That's where I met Albert.

He was on leave.

He was wearing a striped blazer
and a boater

with matching ribbon.

A fine figure of a man,
and he knew it!

The beguine was all the rage.
Remember the song by Dranem?

This is the beguine
There's nothing so naughty

- Oh, Suzanne!
- It's only the three of us.

It was July, mimosas in bloom.

You were wearing canvas boots.

I remember it
as if it were yesterday.

I wanted a hotel in the Midi.

But Albert didn't.

He preferred here
because of the bad weather.

So there'd be less custom.

See how seductive he was!

It's odd that a man like you
doesn't know La Bourboule.

Drinking takes her back
to La Bourboule.

It's only the three of us.

But our honeymoon is of no interest
to Monsieur Fouquet.

You don't like travelling?
Albert's an expert.

He knows the timetables
of all the trains in Europe,

including connections.

- Stop it.
- Isn't it true?

- Stop it.
- Albert, be nice.

- Show him your timetables.
- He's not interested.

- Yes, I am.
- You see!

Even for small journeys.
Tomorrow night he's off to Blangy.

He already has the ticket,

he knows where to change trains,
he's booked his hotel.

Isn't that something?

- I didn't know you were going away.
- Just for a couple of days.

Every year at All Saints
I go to my father's grave.

You'll no doubt be here
when I get back.

I'll wish you "bon voyage",
Monsieur Quentin.

- Going already?
- To stretch my legs before bed.

You're missing out.

I had a 30-year-old calvados put by.

I don't want to keep you up.
Tomorrow's Sunday, you're going away.

You'll have a busy day.

- Thanks for a lovely evening.
- It was nothing special.

It was cosy.

Calvados, that's clever!

A good thing he's being sensible.

All the same, calvados...
What an idea!

There'd be no better way
to tempt him into drinking.

There would.

If I joined him!

Albert, are you being serious?

Hadn't you better go to bed?

Answer me first.

Look, Suzanne,
you're a perfect wife...

Yes, you have great qualities.

And your figure has stayed
as I'd have wished.

You're happiness in a box!

If I had to do it all over,
I'd marry you again.

But you're a pain.

In a nice way,
affectionately and with love,

but a right royal pain in the arse!

I'm not buried yet, but it's coming.

You don't seem to realise.

I haven't had my share
of the unexpected.

I want more.
Do you hear? More!

The unexpected? What do you mean?

Ideas from another world...
Let's forget about it.

You know,
if you really missed it that much,

you could... I don't know,

have a drop of wine with dinner,
half a glass...

Half a glass?

If I miss anything,
it's not the wine,

it's being drunk!

Hello. Germaine!

- Clear that.
- It's Monsieur Fouquet's breakfast.

At this hour,
he can make do with an aspirin!

- Is Albert around?
- In the kitchen.

Your Spaniard's at the crossroads!

- So? Isn't he allowed?
- Not doing what he's doing!

You can't imagine. A disaster!

Are you completely
out of your mind?

You're insane!

You swine,
I'm going to rearrange your features!

What is it? What's going on?

A disgrace! At All Saints too!

My chauffeur had to brake hard.

If he braked,
we'll talk no more about it.

That's too easy!

- We're on a pilgrimage, not...
- Then go on your pilgrimage.

The road is clear.

Albert, you're not defending him?

I'm defending no one.

But you can see
he's not in a normal state.

When do I get presented
with the bull's ears?

Can't you take a break?

Keep it shut, pal.

Aren't we busy enough?
What's going on?

This idiot almost caused
ten accidents.

There was no accident.
He's just had a few drinks.

- Where's he from?
- He's a customer.

"Customer"?
That doesn't answer my question.

- You're not local.
- Are you? With that Cantal accent?

Rodez isn't in the Cantal!
He's plastered!

Bring him in,
we'll have a look at his papers.

The triumphant exit, at last!

Ungrateful public!

Tear out your eyes!

Fouquet, Gabriel.

Born in Paris, 18th May 1930.

Home address,

14 Rue Lincoln, Paris 8ème.

- Profession?
- Maurice, I said I'll vouch for him.

Can't you let it drop? For me?

"Muchas gracias".
But I'm an adult, and...

Monsieur Fouquet,
you're getting on our nerves.

We've heard enough.

Fine. If I can't say anything,
I'll wait for you outside.

Yes. Some fresh air will do you good.

You see, it's just childishness.
He'll be gone by tomorrow.

Very well.

But take him indoors.
I don't want to see him in town.

Let this be a lesson to him.

I hope so.
If not, then he's incorrigible.

Hello, Tigreville gendarmerie.

What's that you say?
A huge traffic jam in Hennequeville?

What's got into you?

I think I'm ashamed.

You can't be ashamed
after a bullfight like that.

Those cars were all difficult.

All charging to the left.

That's English cars for you!

- Come on.
- Where are we going?

I wouldn't mind a glass of something.

Not to start drinking.
Just as a pick-me-up.

All right, but not at Esnault's.

- Hey!
- What?

What's this place of yours?

Gourmets call it a brothel,

lechers, a Chinese restaurant.

Do you go often?

I used to.

What'd be better for us...

for it to be a knocking shop
or a Chinese?

For it to be closed!

Albert!

I don't believe it, a ghost!

I'm so pleased.

- May I kiss you?
- You may.

Say hello to a matador.

Delighted.

But I can't guarantee
that he's authentic.

This isn't authentic either.

But with this Tibetan wind
it can seem like it.

Old pal, there were evenings when,
behind that wall,

I saw,
not thought I saw but really saw,

a whole bustling town,
the trams, the crowds,

the drama.

What can I get you?

- What sort of a pick-me-up?
- I'll leave it to you.

Do you still make that sort of sake?

Of course.

Two of them, then.

There's probably nothing
to worry about.

No one's seen him
since this morning.

I've been to Bluebeard's,
the baker's, even to Esnault's...

No sign of Monsieur.

If there'd been an accident,
we'd have heard.

Yes, we'd have heard.

What shall I do with the suitcase?

Take it back up.
His train was at eight.

- Hasn't Monsieur Fouquet dined?
- No.

- Maybe they're together.
- Yes, maybe.

To Admiral Guépratte!

To El Gallo, divine and bald!

To the glory
of the Far East Marines!

To Manolete,
killed by the bull Islero!

I drink to my pal Gédéon,

killed in the Long Son ambush!

To Joselito,
the greatest of them all!

Nasty weather.
You'll end up getting drunk.

That's what shore leave is for.

What are you looking for?

Claire. She was meant to meet me
at the bullring exit.

If you drank a bit faster,
she'd be here by now.

Things engender things,
whatsits create whatsits.

It's not by chance.

Come on, back to barracks.

This is on me and Claire.

Quiet, rookie!

I got my back pay, so...

They paid you with a train ticket?

Here... you have the outward ticket,
I'll keep the return.

- You do the same.
- I can't.

- No trust in me?
- No ticket.

You should always have
a ticket on you.

Just in case, you see?
Just in case!

You can't teach me.

I've spent my life
leaving and returning.

Instability, it's called.

We're talking too much,
getting thirsty. Come on.

Goodnight and take care.

Madame, I was charmed.
Absolutely charmed.

Nights in China, nights of love...

Damn!

It's night.

Of course.
It's the change of latitude.

Forward!

Nights in China, tender nights

Nights of love

Nights of drunkenness
and tenderness

Damn!

until the light of dawn

Nights of China, tender nights,
nights of love

Need a breather?

No, that cow must have slipped me
something nasty.

Maybe you're not used to it any more.

We could go back.

Hey, kid, stop evading the issue!

You killed off a car or two,
but I haven't had my fill.

We'll show them
what youth and age can do.

- Show who?
- That awful lot! Come on.

Nights in China...

Two calvados.

Welcome, Albert.

I knew it wouldn't last,
that we'd see you again.

And here you are,
like in the good old days.

I feel twenty years younger.

Than who?

You'd better not get up
to your Spanish tricks again!

If treatment for stupidity
isn't covered by social security,

you'll end up penniless!

Why, you impudent young man!

Monsieur Esnault, you will not
speak to my helmsman thus.

I told you,
you are of a different species.

If you've come here to boss me about,

I'll kick you both out!

That was just a shot
across the bows.

Let go of me!

Go home or I'll call the gendarmes!

They shouldn't have let them go
this morning.

They're roaring drunk.

Yes, gentlemen,
we're three sheets to the wind.

On the waterline!

You'd been waiting a long time, eh?

Now you can chinwag about it
all winter long.

Albert.

They hurt my eyes. Let's go.

Yes, our place is not
with mediocre Frenchmen.

A different battalion.

Who's paying for the calvados?

The Supply Corps.
We're not paying any more.

We neither acknowledge
nor greet you.

We despise you!

Good Lord!

Albert.

What?

Your wife won't be happy.

Don't mention wives on patrol.

Fair enough.

The wind's getting up.

Do you have a port in mind?

Blangy in the Somme.
To introduce you to my father.

Albert.

What is it now?

I can't come to Blangy.

Then you'll be deserting.

You know the penalty for that.

I can't leave here, not on my own.
You understand?

I'm on a mission.

A mission?
That's my speciality.

What is it?

I told you about my daughter.

- Little Marie?
- That's right.

Well, little Marie isn't happy.

So I have to take her away with me.

Let's go, then!

And now, as usual,

presented by Jean-Michel Audiard:
Let's Dance!

Albert.

We can't go like this.

Can't go, can't go...
What are you talking about?

Hey, can't you keep it down a bit?

What a state to get into,
it's an absolute disgrace!

Well, at first sight,
it doesn't look that well defended.

We can make a frontal attack.

Me first, you follow behind.

Sorry, but you're not in command.

She's my daughter.

All right, all right.

You're not as skinny as you look!

I've had a skinful!

What are you doing?
Turn round.

- Albert.
- What?

Look.

I'm Jesus!

Albert, don't leave me!

They're all fast asleep.

The bell! There's a bell.

Now they're waking up!

Well, well.

There we are.

Everyone at action stations!

Everyone at action stations, I said!

Just like in '14.
Surround the defences!

Are they making fun of us?

It's a veritable slap in the face!

Good Lord, if I had a howitzer,
I'd soon take this down!

- Stop.
- What?

A plenipotentiary.

About time!

- Is that you, making that racket?
- A special mission.

Monsieur Quentin,
I thought you were on the wagon.

You should be ashamed!

- Like talking to her kiddies!
- You're right.

Quartermaster Quentin
of the Far East Expeditionary Force!

We're here
for the gentleman's daughter.

If she's not down here in 3 minutes,
I can't answer for her daddy.

- Daddy?
- Me!

- That's news to me.
- Not really.

- You told me...
- The countdown has begun!

If the English are here,
I'm beyond surprises!

- When I'm done with the English...
- Don't bother.

She's French.

In the same way
as Colonel Lawrence was an Arab!

Treachery!

But I know all your tricks.

"Tomorrow," she said.

It's the Fashoda incident!

How about a strategic withdrawal?

Why not a retreat?

I think you're striking colours
a bit too quick.

Courier!

Pass the message that we're willing
to wait until tomorrow.

But tomorrow morning, no later.

If the girl isn't at my command post
with full kit by 10:00 hours,

then I'll send in
the Hussars of Death!

Take that as an ultimatum.

I'll pass on the message,
Monsieur Quentin.

You laid it on a bit thick,
but there were grandiose flourishes.

Always.

What a lovely night, eh?

I'd like to take you to Andalusia.
The nights are blue.

In China too, when you head south.

You know what?
We should light all this up.

Paint it all red.

We can't set it all on fire.
But then again...

Quiet!

What was it now?

The light extravaganza...

Bastille Day in a shop...

Where did I hear that?
I heard and I saw...

"If you need anything at all...
And I mean anything at all."

The bearded chap...
"Au Chic Parisien"!

Bluebeard!

Yes, he has a box full of rockets,
enough to blow up Versailles.

Kiss me, pal!

You're me at 20!

Nickel-plated champion of the world!

If they're as good as your wine,
we'll be heard in Le Havre.

They'll make a bang all right.
I can answer for that.

They're thirty years old,
but imperishable.

Made by Ruggieri.

- Albert.
- What?

It'll take the two of us
at least ten trips.

You're not playing without me.

If only for survival reasons.

A pyrotechnic display
demands scholastic know-how

and unsuspected dexterity.

Let's go, then!
We're not forgetting anything?

Nothing.
The programme is assured.

23 aerial shells,

10 multicolour star bombs,

surprise fan cakes,

ten Catherine wheels

and a hanging garden!

Gentlemen, it will be Dantesque!

We'll paint their sky.

Fireworks

It's not Bastille Day!

But they are fireworks, look!

From over there.

Albert's acting the fool
with fireworks on the beach.

Lucien, where are you going?

Look at that!

Madame Quentin,
apparently Albert's on the beach.

Here come the natives!

What's he doing? He's mad!

Now a green, Quentin.

And a red.

And now a tricolour, all at once!

- After you, my dear fellow.
- Oh, no.

To blow up the town,
it must be the local man.

The local man will not.
Go on, fire first!

To the Roman candles!

Present torches!

On my order fire!

To our dead!

To our dead!

To our dead!

Hong Kong! La Cucaracha!

Singapore!
La Petite Tonkinoise!

La Puerta del Sol!

And the fun goes on!

Stop this nonsense!
I'll clap you in irons!

They've brought the gendarmes!

Stop this nonsense, I said!

Informers deserve to be punished.

The explosives!

Nice weather for artillery.

Where are the bangers?

In that box and there.

Since there's nothing stronger...

There's not much call for grenades
in my shop.

We'll make do with these.

What's in that box?

Careful, it'll blow!

For the last time,
I order you to desist!

Evacuate the women and children.
I'm going to flatten the shoreline!

And wipe Normandy from the map!

Fire!

The enemy is fleeing.
But we should retreat, gentlemen.

Every man for himself!
I'm going for a swim.

What do we do?

Sail down the Yangtze Kiang.
It's dead ahead.

Isn't it time we went back?

Went back where?

I thought that in cases of denial
one heard a cock crowing?

We'll talk about that later.
I have a train to catch.

Still going to Blangy?

My dad's used to my visits.

I'll be there.
Bleary-eyed, but there.

And you, back to Paris?

I've seen the sea.
I can't go any further.

France has always shown us
the way of freedom.

"Freedom! Dear freedom!"

as your great poet Victor Hugo said.

It was for this freedom
that men died in the great battle

of which this small French beach
was the tragic theatre.

Tragic, but glorious.

I would like to express
my special thanks this year

to the mayor and his councillors

for the magnificent firework display

which gave our solemn reunion

a radiance which will henceforth
be an inspiration to us all.

This is why I exclaim
from the bottom of my heart:

Long live America!
Long live England! Long live France!

Daddy! I'm so happy.

- You're really taking me with you?
- Of course I am.

You're scratchy!

No one kisses me
but I'm scratchy too. I'll shave.

Well...

I'll catch the 3:20 train.

I didn't know when you'd be back.
I had your case taken back upstairs.

Yeah, well.

- Goodbye, Madame Quentin.
- Goodbye, my little Marie.

Goodbye, and thanks for everything.

- See you here Tuesday, 6 o'clock?
- Of course.

Remember to change at Lisieux.

- Don't worry.
- I'm not worried.

I'm sorry Marie
didn't see the fireworks.

They were wonderful.

They won't see any like that
again soon.

Well, 'bye.

- Will you be changing trains soon?
- It won't be long.

Do we have time for another story?
Just one.

All right, but this is the last.
And it's a true one.

So listen.

In China, when it turns cold,
in the streets of all the towns

you see all these little monkeys,
orphaned and lost.

No one knows
if they come out of curiosity

or because they're afraid
of the winter,

but since the people there
believe that even monkeys have souls,

they pay to send them back
to their forests,

to find their old haunts and friends.

So you see trains full of little
monkeys heading to the jungle.

We're there.

Goodbye, my beauty.

No, don't bother.

- Well, goodbye.
- Goodbye.

Daddy, do you think
he saw monkeys in the winter?

I think he saw at least one.

Lisieux.

Passengers for Rouen,
Avincourt and Blangy,

change trains here.

From the same platform,

the train will leave at 4:18.

And for the old man
began a long winter...

Subtitles: Howard Bonsor

Subtitling: ECLAIR