THE LAST METRO
Paris, September 1942.
Half of France is occupied by the Germans.
The Occupied and Free zones...
are officially divided by a borderline.
In Paris, the curfew...
is imposed at 11 p. m.
No one can afford to miss the last metro.
Hungry Parisians queue up to buy food...
and flock to theatres for warmth.
Movies are just as crowded...
playing to full houses.
At the Montmartre Theatre, rehearsals are under way...
though its director, Lucas Steiner, has fled France:
He didnīt have much choice!
Excuse me, Mlle. I noticed you... I wonder...
What time it is? Itīs 6:40.
No, Iīve got a watch.
What else? Are you lost?
No, I live around here.
In that case... so long!
Wait... I donīt want you to think Iīm on the make...
I mean it.
Why would I think that?
I was in the café... making a call...
I noticed you... I mean it was your eyes...
and your expression.
So I figured...
What?
Well, this is my lucky day, so I thought...
we might have a drink and talk.
Iīm not thirsty and not interested. Let me be!
Youīve got me all wrong. Dīyou think I do this every day?
No, only every other day!
Stop pestering me.
Okay, have it your way... No, wait... let me explain:
do you know what it means to be attracted to someone?
Please, believe me...
I havenīt accosted a strange woman in... 4 years.
What an honor...
Look, thatīs enough!
Dīyou want a public scandal?
Think about it. Let me have something: a name...
an address, a phone number. Iīm Bernard.
You want my number?
Great! Let me write it down.
Odeon 84-00.
Odeon 84-00... Hey, whoīre you kidding?
Thatīs the Talking Clock number!
Whoīs that boy?
Heīs the conciergeīs son.
She works at the theatre.
What did he do to you?
He patted my head.
Letīs go and wash your hair out!
Come back here at once!
Is the theatre closed?
No. Go in through the stage door.
Iīve got an appointment.
Mr Granger?
Yes.
Mrs Steiner is expecting you. Follow me.
Beautiful theatre!
It beats the Grand Guignol, right?
Itīs twice as big...
Iīve been here before...
I saw Mrs Steiner in "The Cherry Orchard".
Any news of Lucas Steiner?
The boss? He was lucky...
One day, they came looking for him...
Here? The Germans?
No, the French. They were buzzing all around...
but he had already skipped out of Paris.
I hear heīs in America...
South America...
or around there. I hope he can work.
The offices are upstairs.
Bernard Granger... Mr Merlin.
I recognized you.
Merlinīs our business manager. He handles the finances.
Wait here.
A few minutes.
Okay, thanks.
Marion, I know Rosenīs Aryan Certificate is a fake...
but they wonīt check it with a magnifying glass.
Heīs got no work permit.
Heīll claim he lost it.
We could use our contacts.
No, we may need them.
With the papers heīs got, he manages to work...
at the film studios.
Heīs lucky theyīre so careless...
but here, we stick to the rules: no permit, no work!
What can I tell Rosen?
The truth: no Jews in Marion Steinerīs theatre!
Rosen, come this way...
I didnīt know you were here! Iīll be right back.
Iīll go get Marion.
Did you explain my case to Mrs Steiner?
What did she say?
Sorry Rosen, she wonīt hire a Jew...
I just canīt believe it.
Anywhere else, Iīd expect this...
but in Lucas Steinerīs own theatre...
itīs truly an outrage!
Come in.
Hold it! I want to understand.
What?
I considered myself lucky to play here but if I must lower my pants...
to prove Iīm not a Jew... thanks, but no thanks!
Besides, I refuse to take anyoneīs job away from him.
Youīve got it all wrong...
That actor was not slated for the role of the tutor...
but for a walk-on in the third act.
Believe me!
Believe me, Granger...
You were my first choice as Marionīs leading man.
You must realize our position...
We need an okay for the play.
Weīre still waiting for the Censorīs visa.
This is Bernard Granger.
Iīve heard great things about you...
from friends who saw you at the Grand Guignol.
And I trust Jean-Loup.
At first, l was doubtful about the Grand Guignol...
but finally, I enjoyed playing "The Skeleton".
I never saw it because I work at night.
In the past...
my husband managed everything.
I knew nothing about administration...
and business details.
I had to learn quickly.
Letīs discuss your contract.
Right now?
Letīs get it over with.
What did you earn at Grand Guignol?
I was looking for you.
Hereīs the script. Itīs wholesome reading. Memorize it, child!
This one?
Yes, thanks.
I couldnīt find it at the theatre bookshop.
It hasnīt been published.
Iīve never heard of it.
Itīs a Norwegian play, by a Norwegian playwright...
Karen Bergen, a genuinely Norwegian name.
Lucas discovered it and had it translated.
Do you speak Norwegian?
Neither do I. But I bet the critics will pan the translation!
Dīyou know Granger?
Is he here?
In my office.
I donīt know him...
but we almost met.
Hello!
We expected you at Lucienīs house-warming party.
I couldnīt make it. Weīll meet again.
"I hereby declare I am not Jewish...
and to the best of my knowledge...
my parents or grandparents are not Jewish."
How did it go?
Okay!
Great. Iīll see you around.
You never really wanted to be an actress.
I enjoyed the job I had.
I know. If Lucas hadnīt kidnapped you...
youīd still be in fashion.
Right, and thatīs not all:
he said that if I refused, heīd ask Coco Chanel to fire me!
It sounds just like him.
Can I turn the lights off?
Yes.
Iīm waiting for you.
Right.
Oh hell! Daxiat!
I forgot we had a dinner date.
Iīll see you later.
Goodnight.
Donīt let him see you...
I forgot to tell you...
that Iīm having dinner with Daxiat.
He can help us get the Censorīs visa...
I sort of promised you might come.
You shouldnīt have.
I donīt see how you can associate with him.
I donīt have much choice.
Remember why he panned "Britannicus"?
Yes, he claimed it was an effeminate play.
Even so, we need his help for the visa...
All I ask is for you to say hello...
and also shake his hand.
Iīll shake his hand...
but no dinner. Figure out some excuse. Iīm going home.
Raymond, cut the lights.
"Fine, Eric. Go to bed now."
Eric hesitates...
then turns back to his mother.
"Mother, will Mr Carl return?"
"l donīt know. What do you think?"
"He will return."
As Helenaīs embroidery...
drops from her hands...
Carl hears a sound and turns around.
"Whoīs there?"
He sees Helena.
"Why are you hiding?"
"Leave this house. Your presence here is harmful."
"Before I go, you must hear me out."
"When Dr Sanders hired me last Spring..."
Wait... letīs reverse that...
I think itīs best to start with "Last Spring..."
"You must hear me out."
Hello, darling.
"Last Spring, when Dr Sanders hired me..."
Come over here.
Arlette Guillaume, our set and costume designer.
Bernard Granger... heīll play Carl.
You must have seen his act.
I donīt think so...
Wait... yes, I have seen it.
At the Grand Guignol?
No, in a very banal role: Just a man...
on the prowl.
You canīt judge me by that part...
I was improvising.
You seemed to know it by heart!
The rehearsalīs over...
but I want to say something.
Iīm going to stage the play.
Like all of you, Iīd have preferred...
that "Disappearance" be directed by Lucas himself.
Fortunately, he left us explicit notes...
as to the staging.
It goes without saying that...
weīll be guided by his notes.
Iīll do my best to help you all.
Thatīs it!
May I leave now?
Run along.
What about Daxiat, the drama critic?
Canīt he help us...
He got us the Censorīs visa, so letīs not make waves.
Can you help me fix my bracelet?
The clasp is stuck.
You read palms?
What do you see?
There are two women in you.
Thatīs true. Go on!
Raymond, come quickly! Iīm scared...
I hear noises in the theatre.
Donīt worry, Germaine. Iīll take a look.
Anybody here?
How did you get in?
I watched the rehearsal. It looks great.
I told you to wait outside, Martine!
Calm down.
Look what Iīve got.
Still interested?
I had no money. Iīve got to pay for it tonight.
How much?
4 200 francs.
Itīs 14 lbs!
Iīll go ask Mrs Steiner.
The Grand Guignol has 100 orchestra seats...
200 with the balcony. You average half a house?
Just about. A little more on Sundays...
but they average half a house.
The seats range from 20 to 40 francs...
A daily gross of 6 000. How many players?
Mrs Steiner?
Excuse me.
The ham?
Oh, yes.
How many?
Four actors. Tree of us play two roles each.
With the costs, they barely break even.
Itīs a losing proposition.
Iīm ready. Shall we go?
Goodnight, Mrs Steiner.
Goodnight, Marion.
Come in.
Iīve got your ham. Itīs 4 200 frs.
4 200 frs?
If itīs too expensive, I can give it back.
No. Itīll last me the whole winter.
4 200?
Right!
Thanks. Hereīs the cello.
What do I want with a cello?
Hereīs the animal.
Look...
14 pounds!
You canīt walk around with a ham in your arms, can you?
No, I canīt. Good thinking! Thanks.
Iīm off. Donīt forget the lights and shutters.
The air-raid warden is a real bastard!
Iīll remember.
Sir?
Valentin.
Oh, forgive me. Iīm so absent-minded these days.
No, please donīt apologize...
I know Iīve aged a lot.
I left a script at the desk for you...
a screenplay.
Read it and tell me what you think.
I wonīt detain you. Goodbye Marion.
This is for you.
I know.
Your keys?
Dīyou have a minute?
I keep on getting mail for Mr Steiner...
Probably from people who donīt know heīs gone.
Itīs embarrassing.
Should I return it to the senders, or give it to you?
Itīs probably theatre business mail.
Iīll take it.
Dīyou want all his mail?
- Yes. - Fine.
- Thanks. - Youīre most welcome.
Room service?
No, I ate at the theatre.
Did the reporter from "Paris Echos" call you ?
No. Why?
This morning, he was in the hallway with a camera.
I told him you werenīt in. He said:
"I just want to take a picture of her room."
He said it was for a reportage on "The Stars at Home".
I told him to call you. Didnīt he call?
No.
Was I wrong?
No, you were right. I hate those snoopers.
Are you watering your flowers?
Itīs not flowers.
Vegetables?
No.
Itīs for a pipe...
with a match, it smokes.
Youīll wind up in jail!
Where the hell is she?
For Christīs sake!
Do we rehearse, or not?
Weīre waiting for Nadine. Iīll give her an earful!
You know what time it is?
You joy-ride with the Boches and I get hell!
I was dubbing. We worked late, so they drove me here.
Youīre not squeamish! I bet youīd accept a role in "Jew Süss"!
And how! But they didnīt have a role for me!
Excuse me. Iīm sorry.
Take your time! Youīre only an hour late.
Whatīs your excuse today? Your alarm clock?
No, I was dubbing.
Must you grab every offer?
Canīt you leave the dubbing jobs to those who need work?
She needs it.
Sheīs a pain in the ass!
No, I canīt...
I take every offer I get.
I do radio in the morning and dubbing at noon.
At night, I do walk-ons.
On Thursday, I play Moliére for school kids...
and if itīs a bit part in a movie, I say yes!
The only way to succeed is to accept everything...
to get maximum exposure and make new contacts.
If you want to fire me, say so...
Sacha Guitry is casting. I can run right over.
Have you anyone in mind?
Yes, Iīve got two men:
Raoul Coquet and Fernand Coustal. Remember them?
Coquet sounds good. Iīll call him.
Iīm not so sure of Coustal.
Iīll put a question mark on his name.
Is that her?
Yes...
Thatīs her.
Still a beauty!
Why "still"?
"The Sin" dates back to my Communion.
You saw the film? How come?
I didnīt see it, but I swiped all the stills...
including the famous one!
She really is beautiful...
but sheīs strange... I canīt figure her out.
Letīs make the phone call!
Lucas, Iīve got bad news for you.
The Germans banned the play?
No...
You canīt leave next week.
The escape route fell through.
You said it was a sure thing.
Itīs never sure.
The passer who guides people through Nevers was arrested.
Iīve got another lead, but itīs risky.
Youīre afraid heīll get caught too?
No, worse than that...
Some passers... so-called passers...
after taking your money...
drive you straight up to the Kommandantur.
So they get paid off on both ends...
Youīre a special case:
some people may recognize you, or spot your accent.
Letīs stay put for a while.
Will you be able to hold out?
Of course I will... I must!
But l hate to feel so useless... so trapped.
Did you talk to Jean-Loup? Will he help us?
Frankly, Iīd rather keep him out of it...
He knows too many people. He gossips, he fools around...
itīs too dangerous!
Dīyou know how many letters about Jews are mailed to the police?
Guess!
I donīt know... 300?
1 500! 1 500 letters daily!
"My boss is Jewish,... my neighbour is a Jew..."
No. They all think youīre gone...
Letīs keep it that way. Iīll take care of you.
Did you think I was being polite?
Well, youīre wrong: I want to look at your legs!
Wait, let me breathe in the smell of the stage.
From the cellar, I follow all that goes on:
when the lights are dimmed in the morning, I know itīs rehearsal time.
When they go on again, itīs lunch time.
When all the lights go out at night, it means...
youīre on your way down.
It reminds me of a play I saw in London 3 years ago:
at night, the husband would pretend...
to go out, but as soon as the gaslight grew dim...
we knew it meant heīd come back and was up in the attic.
Do you remember that play?
I almost acquired the rights.
He liked the Grand Guignol...
but heīs very happy to be with us.
Heīs a little like Jean Gabin in "The Human Beast": very physical...
and yet quite gentle.
He says itīs because of you that heīs an actor.
No, Iīll do it myself.
Tell me how rehearsals are going.
Jean-Loup is doing well.
l was delighted today when he blew his top!
Yes, just a minute.
Jean-Loup, itīs Daxiat.
What does he want?
I donīt know.
Hello, Daxiat. Whatīs up?
I heard it yesterday, in the last metro.
They may stop rehearsals of "The Dead Queen".
Why? Is Montherlant a Jew?
Youīre pretty warm...
Daxiat wants to expose the Jews
who still work at the Comédie Franįaise.
He claims Jean Yonnel is a Rumanian Jew.
I donīt know if Yonnel is Jewish, or half-Jewish...
but I know he should have run away...
far away from these maniacs.
Theyīre really crazy... all madmen.
Not only in Germany, but here: Daxiat and the others...
Madmen!
You wanted to know what Bernard Granger looked like.
Heīs just perfect.
At least we donīt have to worry: he looks like a real goy!
What have you got against goyim?
Nothing against...
those with short skirts and long hair.
You dirty racist!
My mother warned me Iīd never be happy with a Jew.
"You know, Carl...
if you wish to remain in this house...
you must never pronounce the name of Charles-Henri.
Everyone noticed my new dress last night...
except for you..."
Thatīs very good, Nadine...
but I want you to move over to Bernard.
Weīll give you a lamp.
Youīll put it on the table... it will help...
Raymond, stop fooling around...
Go get us a lamp.
Letīs go on.
"Donīt tell me itīs your work."
"I know you work...
more than I do...
but some people in this house...
should keep...
their own duties in mind."
"Why do you say that?"
Because... itīs in the script!
Yes, itīs Daxiat. Go over and say hello.
Be friendly. Remember he helped us get the Censorīs visa.
Donīt worry. Iīll thank him.
Alright, kids. Letīs take a break.
Whoīs he?
Donīt you know him: heīs the lnspector-General...
Daxiat, the drama critic.
Is that Daxiat? I had no idea...
Iīd love to meet him...
Youīre not fussy!
He practically runs the Comédie Franįaise.
This may sound strange, coming from me...
but I think your husband...
was wrong to leave France.
The new anti-Israelite laws...
apply to theatre speculators and profiteers.
But your husband was a rare pearl:
the only Israelite theatre director...
You can say Jewish!
He was at once a brilliant executive...
a talented stage director and an artist.
You see, the Germans are deeply attached to culture.
They donīt want talented artists to leave France.
But thereīs no need to worry about your play.
Iīm certain Cottins can handle the job.
Still, one wonders why this play was chosen...
Even Pitoeff turned it down!
Dīyou know Mrs Fabre? She wants to ask you for a favor.
Yes, of course. I know Madame.
Itīs about my son, Pierre.
Whatīs he doing here?
He likes to sniff around at rehearsals...
when heīs interested in a play.
Will he write about us?
He will, or he wonīt.
I wish heīd forget us.
Just stay here.
Look...
Weīre all Catholics in our family...
Hereīs the proof...
Fine... Iīll do my best...
Come and meet our little circle.
Nadine Marsac, the top student of the Simon drama course...
Well?
Heīs going to help me.
Bernard Granger...
our leading man...
straight out of the Grand Guignol, as you see.
He plays Carl?
Yes...
Strange... heīd be ideal as "The Hairy Ape".
Raymond will show you the way out.
He doesnīt go for girls, does he?
Is it okay to ask you a question?
Look at this.
What do you call it?
A fishing rod.
But we also call it a gaulle.
Now, if we add a second one to it...
we get "Deux Gaulle"!
Bravo, Raymond...
Youīre very witty!
I speak to you from the plant of a journal...
that proclaims the truth!
I say the French theatre must drive its Jews out...
from the rafters to the prompterīs box!
For a Jewish prompter at the "Menilmontant"...
will worm his way to the high command of the Opera!
We must oust the Jew from the stage and the wings...
and keep him out!
No Jew should be allowed in a key position in theatre...
for his sordid practices are bound to corrupt it!
Let these "gentlemen" be warned...
that France is off-limits to Jews.
Only in this way can true Frenchmen safeguard their nation!
Hereīs the money you asked for, Mrs Steiner.
But I canīt raise this amount every month.
Of course not. This is exceptional.
In that case, thereīs no problem.
Hello, Mr Merlin... Come in.
Marion, this is Rosette.
Put your samples on the desk and run along home.
How old are you?
Iīll be fourteen in 3 months.
Youīre working... donīt you go to school?
No, I donīt want to anymore.
Dīyou like the theatre?
Yes.
Come see our play.
She canīt come to the theatre: the kid canīt go out at night!
Yes, I can!
3 months ago, I went to hear Edith Piaf at the ABC Theatre.
I wore my scarf down to here...
so nobody could see it. There was no trouble.
Weīll talk about it some other time. Go home. Itīs late.
Iīm surprised at you, Marion!
Now, that child will insist on seeing the play...
Her parents hate to deny her anything, but theyīll blame me.
Forgive me, Iīm sorry.
I was sympathetic because...
Are they French?
The girl is, but her parents are Polish.
The fatherīs a tailor. He works at home...
in an attic.
He canīt go out in the street...
on account of his thick accent.
Like Lucas?
His is much worse...
Besides, he hardly speaks French...
lf a German asks him for directions, heīd be trapped!
So he hides in his attic and his wife manages for him.
Isnīt he scared of a denunciation?
Canīt they go to the Free zone?
Theyīd love to go...
but it costs a fortune and theyīre poor.
Got a date tonight?
Not really... Iīm going home.
Letīs have dinner.
Iīm sorry, I canīt.
You canīt spend every night by yourself.
Iīve got to go home.
Iīve read them all, Mrs Director.
Nothing of interest.
You can return them...
but first, make sure to burn the readerīs notes...
theyīre in my handwriting.
Iīll take care of it.
Let me explain about the money:
I divided it in three wads.
The first is for the conveyor whoīll take you to Vierzon.
They call them conveyors?
Yes, conveyors.
Heīs to be paid before he drives off.
Youīll be comfortable. Itīs a furniture moving van.
Iīll sit in an armchair, like a minister!
Listen, Lucas. This is serious.
This wad is for the farmer whoīll take you across the borderline.
His property is so big that it extends over both zones.
At the furthest end, youīre in the Free zone.
Let me guess: the third wad is for Spain.
For Spain and for the rest.
And in case you need more, I brought this.
No Mrs! Not the jewelry. Not  the  jewelry!
You may need it.
So will you. Bring it along when you join me...
I want you to join me...
as soon as possible.
To be safe, Iīve got to play the first 100 performances.
Good God! What confidence!
Dīyou think it will run till then?
Thatīs 6 months...
No, I want you to leave after the 50th... no later!
Iīll tell them Iīve got a spot on my lungs...
and to find another actress.
Iīll turn the management over to Jean-Loup...
and pretend Iīm going to a sanitarium. Then, Iīll join you...
And weīll start from scratch.
Iīm not a barber... stop fidgeting.
Donīt. Itīs horrible!
Iīm trying to feel Jewish.
Itīs very hard to portray a Jew.
If you underplay, theyīre skeptical.
If you overplay, they say: "He doesnīt look Jewish."
What does it mean "to look Jewish"?
Why ask me?
Donīt move around.
Listen, Marion...
I love that song.
How could I resist his romancing...
or forget his manly embrace?
My heart still believes...
all the sweet lies...
and the tender look in his eyes.
I, who loved him so...
the most wonderful man of St. Jean.
He broke my heart...
didnīt say goodbye... or tell me why.
He broke my heart...
didnīt say goodbye... or tell me why.
- Howīs the garden? - Okay.
- Growing? - Yeah.
Then, we can smoke!
Jacquot, come here.
Listen.
Can you recite?
- Sure. - Ready?
Try to say: "īMother, do you think Mr Carl will return?"
"Mother, do you think Mr Carl will return?"
Very good.
Now say: "I like to study with him."
Thatīs fine!
Hello!
"Mother, do you think Mr Carl will return?"
What are you talking about?
"I like to study with him."
- What is this? - Itīs him.
- Who? - Him!
- Itīs OK now! - Good.
Nadine, are you ready?
You can come in.
"Shall I prepare Ericīs room now?"
"Please do. Donīt forget the salve for his hand."
"Iīm through, Mother."
"Fine. Go to bed now."
Now, you walk to the stairway...
You stop on the second step.
Donīt fall! Now you say your line.
"Mother, will Mr Carl return?"
"What do you think, son?"
"Heīll come back. I like to study with him."
Thatīs fine, Jacquot. Bravo!
At least, weīve got one good actor in our play.
Thatīs nice. Thanks a lot!
See you tomorrow.
Do I get a kiss too?
You get a handshake!
Since you insist... please, allow me...
Iīll read your palm:
there are two women in you...
Sorry, but neither one wants to sleep with you!
So long!
Itīs my own fault...
I was too obvious... too aggressive. Now, she enjoys needling me!
When her jobīs over, sheīll just vanish.
Iīve got to score with her before opening night!
Dīyou have my size in tan?
Whatīs this? Stop bothering Mrs Steiner!
Sheīs no bother, Raymond. Itīs alright.
Iīll get you a size 7.
Donīt you need stockings?
Sure, but I canīt afford them.
Are you kidding?
Not at all...
I use make-up.
So do I.
You even drew the seams.
How chic!
To do it right, one needs a helping hand.
GERMAN TROOPS INVADE FREE ZONE
Is that todayīs paper?
Did you know about it?
I heard it on the radio.
People from the Free zone will be happy...
They invaded the Free zone? So what?
Iīll have to sneak across all of France instead of just half.
No, the Germans are everywhere.
They search all the trucks.
The passer refuses to risk it...
Itīs much too dangerous now.
What am I supposed to do?
Wait till things simmer down.
I canīt stay here. Iīll go crazy!
This is no life.
Dīyou know how I kill time all day?
I read... I read a lot...
I listen to lies on the radio.
Then I read lies in the press.
To keep from losing my mind...
I do crossword puzzles.
You want to see them?
Just listen:
across, in 5 letters... symbol of infamy: "kikes".
Down, in 8 letters...
stinking vultures: "sheenies".
These are for the kiddies:
"You can never trust one"... in 3 letters:
the first letter is a J...
So l give up, I listen to the sounds in the theatre...
I wait for your footsteps on the stairs.
I wait and wait. I canīt wait anymore!
How many years can a man live?
I canīt take it anymore...
Please, Lucas...
Iīm going!
Where?
Away from here. Iīll speak to them!
To whom?
The authorities... the police... Iīll regularize...
my status. Iīll register.
Are you crazy?
Stay here! What do you want?
A concentration camp?
Let me go!
Youīre not leaving...
I wonīt let you!
Here, itīs real cognac... from the black market.
Youīre shaking... Youīd better take a drink.
I just realized something awful:
I could kill a man...
Weīll fix up the cellar. Weīll get a real bed...
a comfortable armchair and some rugs.
I need a desk.
Youīll have a real apartment.
I hope you wonīt forget the wallpaper.
Mrs Steiner wants a rifle for the gamewarden.
We need an official permit for a prop rifle...
Itīs not so easy!
Itīs what she wants.
I canīt go out that way. Theyīre here.
We should have gotten up earlier.
- Use the back yard. - Right.
- Marion... - Yes?
Donīt forget to lock the door.
They sent him to another stalag...
but he canīt tell me where it is...
I mail them separately; one of them might reach him.
They fit me. Iīm the same size as your husband.
He wasnīt my husband, he was my number two.
I got them at the Colonial Exposition...
for cash, of course.
At times, he was fun...
but what a bastard!
Hello, Bernard.
I bet you slept out: you havenīt shaved.
Yes, I spent the night out:
I ran into a raid for "Voluntary Labor in Germany".
Two guys were checking everybody.
So l turn this way and that way...
Each guy thought the other had checked me out!
Itīs nothing to brag about:
thatīs why our prisoners canīt come home.
How come youīre dressing up here?
Donīt broadcast it. Yes, I spent the night out.
I hate for a man to touch me.
Canīt you do this instead of him?
You want to know how I feel about it?
Maybe I canīt stand touching a man!
Donīt forget my other costume.
What other costume?
Itīs written in the script:
Act 2: "Carl enters, wearing a frown."
Iīd suggest something sober!
You know Granger?
The new actor?
Yes. Tell him I couldnīt wait.
Say Christian left this.
Iīll give it to him.
Marion... are you there?
Where are you?
Go over to the bed and say something.
Say what? Iīm by the bed.
I canīt hear.
Same here. I hardly hear you.
Go over to the radio.
Where is the radio? I donīt see it.
Itīs next to the boiler.
The boiler?
Here I am.
Is it this hole?
Yes. I hear you as if you were by my side.
Turn the sound on loud and come up to the stage.
This is very dangerous.
Itīs not...
Itīs great!
I rigged up the old heating vent. With this set-up...
I can hear all the rehearsals from the cellar.
At night, I can give you suggestions to pass on to Jean-Loup...
Now, "Disappearance" is sure to be a hit... it could run for a year!
Iīm back in business: Iīm directing again...
but strictly incognito!
"Since I came here, Iīve heard nothing but lies...
lies and contradictions."
"Theyīre not lies, but blanks.
Theyīre not lies, but blanks.
For years, I tried to find out the truth.
Itīs dreadful not to know who one is... what one has done.
Even worse is the fear it may occur again.
At times, I feel as if I donīt really exist."
"Why wonīt Dr Sanders allow you to consult a doctor?"
"He knows more than any doctor. Without him, Iīd be dead.
Iīll be eternally grateful to him."
"A prisoner owes no gratitude to her jailer...
and Dr Sanders has imprisoned you.
But if a man tells you he loves you...
why wonīt you listen ?"
No... wait a minute.
Is it really necessary to shout all these lines?
I donīt know... it sounds all wrong to me.
Lucasī notes are explicit:
this scene is to be played like a duel.
Like a duel!
Alright, but it seems absurd to me.
"A prisoner owes no gratitude to her jailer...
and Dr Sanders has imprisoned you.
But if a man tells you he loves you...
why wonīt you listen?"
"I have no right to love... no right to love, or be loved."
You are simply voicing Dr Sanderīs words.
"I will tell you something about Dr Sanders."
There...
You told me to shout, so I did. But Iīm not happy about it.
Iīm not happy either. You see, weīre not happy.
Grangerīs right. The scene should not be shouted.
But thatīs what you asked for!
So I made a mistake...
Jean-Loup shouldnīt take my notes so literally.
Whatīs that?
An electricity failure.
Get a candle.
A candle...
Itīs on again.
It shouldnīt be played as a duel, but as a conspiracy.
Am I boring you?
Sorry, Iīm simply exhausted.
Then sleep here...
No, I want to sleep at the hotel...
Iīll go home.
So, youīre deserting the conjugal cave?
Goodnight.
Wait... wait.
Iīm waiting.
Iīll see you tomorrow morning.
Raymond!
Did you see him?
No.
Are you the electrician?
No, not the electrician: the engineer.
Here he is!
I know līm late. While I stood in line at the hardware store...
someone swipes my bike. So I take the subway...
It breaks down: weīre stuck between two stations...
As always.
Why not take a bike-cab? Weīd have paid for it.
For his size, they charge double!
Thatīs why I donīt take them! Iīve got my self-respect!
I was just kidding.
Can you see me spread out like a pasha...
being hauled around by a poor bastard on his bike?
Sure, I know: fat men are funny... good-natured clowns.
Well, Iīm not a nice fat man...
Iīm a nasty one... Go to hell!
Listen, last year they stole my bike too...
so I kissed it off.
But 3 days later, in another street... unbelievable!
What do I see? My very own bike...
No. 813-HK-45.
So I figure Iīll take it back.
Just then, a creep walks up... real cool...
I let him unfasten the lock. Then I say:
"Look man, this is my bicycle!"
The creep acts indignant. We swap insults...
People gather around to watch the fight.
You know what he pulls?
He calls me a fairy. No offense, Jean-Loup.
He claims Iīm molesting him...
making indecent proposals... the works!
The people give me dirty looks. They all side with the crook!
A real lynch mob! So I beat it fast and never looked back!
There are the Boches, the Heinies...
the Krauts, the Jerries... I donīt remember the other one...
You forgot the buzzards...
Thatīs right... the buzzards.
Say, thatīs my record-player!
Itīs not yours, itīs Marionīs. She lent it to me for a party.
They swipe all my props:
when itīs not an armchair, itīs a record-player.
A gentleman is waiting for you.
I wonder who it is.
I donīt know his name. He writes in "Je Suis Partout".
Daxiat?
Yes, itīs Mr Daxiat.
May I speak with you?
I wanted to meet you outside the theatre...
because itīs a confidential matter.
I know you donīt like me...
but I daresay itīs perhaps because...
you donīt know me.
Iīm not judging you...
but your articles have often hurt friends...
whose work I admire.
Others say you love the theatre.
I just donīt know.
Indeed, I am a paradox:
I adore the theatre, I live for it and yet,
Iīm hated by most theatre people.
It requires strength of character to cope with such hostility.
I daresay Iīve got that strength.
Iīve always admired Lucas Steiner...
If he was here, I would tell him our real struggle is socialistic...
anti-capitalistic... that we too, are men of the Left...
but we go further: we want revolution!
You know, Lucas...
read newspapers, but only the theatre section.
I do the same. But politics...
Youīre wrong: everything is political!
But thatīs not what Iīm here for...
Lucas Steiner is still in France.
Weīre sorry...
Itīs stupid, but obligatory: everybody down to the shelter!
That identity card was found on a passer who was arrested.
Your husband must be hiding out in some village...
but at some point, heīs bound to contact you.
Would you give him a message:
if he comes back, I wonīt write anything against him.
Itīs a matter of honor.
But if he returns, youīll be compromised.
And what about your theatre?
The name of Steiner can only harm you.
You ought to get a divorce.
Do you remember, Marion?
Remember what?
The elevator of that department store.
Yes, I remember...
I felt they all knew what we were doing...
I was terrified...
Only terrified?
No, not only terrified...
But the night of that premiere... There, you were scared...
No, I enjoyed it...
Go on... go home...
Go back to the hotel. Iīd rather you left right now.
What if I stay here tonight?
All night? Till tomorrow?
All night. Till tomorrow!
You mean it?
Iīll put out the light to consider your proposition.
"But if I tell you I love you...
Why wonīt you listen?"
I know itīs in the script,
but līd rather you refrained during rehearsals.
Save it for the perfomance!
Letīs go on.
"I have no right to love... no right to love, or be loved."
"But if I tell you I love you...
why wonīt you listen?"
Bernard, youīre supposed to...
caress her face just then.
Marion told him not to touch her.
A large crowd is gathered here,
Iīm trying to make my way through...
What was that?
Iīm told that blast is due to...
an explosive device in a record-player!
Admiral Froelich has been seriously injured.
They tell me he was killed!
The ambush was set up by some terrorists...
A record-player exploded.
Excuse me, Mrs Steiner.
Iīm busy, Mr Merlin.
Please: this is important.
I know who he is...
You shouldnīt sell your jewelry.
Let me take it to a pawn shop.
If the playīs a hit, you can get it back.
It makes sense.
Thank you, Mr Merlin.
Iīm sorry, but I need some time...
to think it over.
As you wish.
Would you help me rehearse in my dressing room?
The kind of help you want can be picked up in a brothel.
I can rehearse you.
Never mind. Iīll manage.
"Carl, if you wish to remain in this house...
you must never mention the name of Charles-Henri."
Itīs at the perfume counter of the Galeries. Ask for Miss Yolande.
Sheīll let you have "Gone With the Wind" for 80 Frs.
I wouldnīt spend that much on a black market book...
but if Marion wants it...
Yes, she does.
Then, Iīll get it.
Would you help me rehearse in my dressing room?
Iīve never done it.
Itīs simple: you just read the text.
I say a line and you answer me.
Alright.
Itīs a nice room!
Yes, it is.
Essentially, theyīre profiteers. Very few come here to work.
The problem is that thereīs no way for most Frenchmen...
to recognize a Jew.
Ilf we could spot them, we could protect ourselves.
Some have typical racial features, but not all of them!
If only all Jews had blue skin, but as it is...
we need a foolproof way to detect them...
They say: "Itīs better to hear that than to be deaf,"
but at times, Iīd rather be stone-deaf!
How was our rehearsal?
Great... I mean it was much better...
The whispering improves the scene...
but you could add to the intimacy by dimming the lights.
The faces could be illuminated from the rear... as silhouettes.
Donīt move... Remember, youīre silhouettes!
Raymond... if you donīt mind!
Youīre a genius, Jean-Loup.
Iīll shift the backdrop to sharpen the silhouettes.
What the hell, Raymond? Weīre in the dark!
l know! The whole areaīs in the dark!
A light failure.
Perfect for a shadow play!
The whole neighbourhoodīs blacked out.
Youīd think theyīd warn us.
Marc, letīs get some lamps.
I know where we can get candles... for cash, of course!
Nadine, weīre waiting for you.
Let me explain.
No need to.
Donīt judge me.
Iīm not judging you...
but try to keep your love life outside the theatre.
Marionīs heartless.
Sheīs too tough...
Sheīs not interested in anyone.
She has no sympathy for anyone.
She doesnīt know Iīm alive.
Sheīs worse since Lucasī gone. I canīt stand it!
Calm down, child... calm down...
Itīs not the end of the world.
She opened a door that should have been locked.
You see it as a tragedy, but...
in two weeks, it will have been forgotten.
I hope youīre right.
I want to go home.
Run along.
Can I help?
No, drop it. Youīre the last thing she needs.
Sheīll be alright.
I hate to see her so upset.
Christ! I really was on the wrong track with her.
Thatīs for sure!
Sheīs no playmate for you... sheīs more like a competitor.
Were you really stuck on her?
I just wanted to sleep with her...
it was like a craving for a warm croissant!
I wanted to warn you to drop her, but I figured...
it was none of my business.
Youīre all going to the Joconde tonight? ltīs a cabaret.
You know what the BBC says? They say all those...
who go to night clubs will be held to account after the war.
Jean-Loup wants to boost our morale.
You... you had the right to be moody...
to throw a party, or be by yourself.
Why am I expected to be charming and smiling at all time?
Even Jean-Loup picks on me.
Heīs right. And he doesnīt know half of it!
I donīt mind that you neglect me...
but for the others, the play comes first.
You must pay more attention to them.
Why donīt you answer?
Iīd rather not.
The coffeeīs ready. Iīve got to run.
Marion!
Yes?
I heard you and Bernard rehearsing the love scene.
So what?
It seems to me... I feel...
it might be improved.
What do you mean?
Itīs the only love scene in the play. Try to be...
more sincere...
No, this seatīs for Bernard.
I canīt stay. Iīve got to meet the producer of "Angels of Mercy".
Iīm not sure... itīs between me and two other girls.
I hope you get the role.
Weīll pray for you.
Iīm off.
Sheīll be good...
but they may feel sheīs too young.
Sheīd be better
in "School for Wives".
Nadine in the role of Agnés?
When she announces: "The little kitten is dead..."
the whole audience will think: "Sheīs the one who killed it!"
Enjoying yourselves?
Sit here!
Well, Iīm not alone. I brought a friend. Simone...
Sit down.
Take care of her while I check our things.
Arlette, sit next to me.
Just a minute.
Give those back. Iīve changed my mind.
Sorry, Mrs Steiner. I canīt stay.
Come on, letīs go.
I forgot... Iīve got a date.
Youīre free. Weīre all free.
I apologize. Iīll see you tomorrow.
That manīs staring at us. Donīt look. Heīs coming over.
Hello, Cottins.
Still in show business... a real trooper!
Introduce me.
I forget your name.
René Bernardini.
Bernardini... Arlette Guillaume... Marion Steiner.
Iīll be right back.
You promise!
This joint is tacky. Letīs go to the Monseigneur.
No, Marionīs exhausted.
Speak for yourself. I feel like going there!
Wait for Arlette.
No, you two are kill-joys.
Iīm not sleepy. Itīs sinister here. Letīs go.
Whatīs up?
Tonight, Iīm on my own.
Whatīs going on?
Thatīs Marion:
the party fizzles, so she opts for an all-night disaster.
I see Daxiat has two seats...
in the 7th row.
Remember: 20 seats for the Propagandastaffel!
Why look at me that way? Itīs mandatory:
20 seats every night. Itīs a rule.
At the Odeon, they put them in the side boxes.
Weīll do the same!
Itīs too much!
We give good seats to those who pan us...
and we turn down genuine fans.
Lucas would say: "We give our best seats to our enemies."
My purse was in my dressing room. Itīs missing.
Oh, great!
What a mess! Somebody searched this room.
Well?
They took my travel clock.
I think thatīs all they swiped.
And you?
They left my wallet, but itīs empty.
Itīs worse for you.
I donīt mind the money, but my ration cards, my I. D. card,
my work permit and my pass were in my purse.
Iīm glad I locked your door, Marion.
Iīll get the police.
No, weīll do the searching.
Just like at Radio-Paris:
some "moving men" came for the piano. They never returned it.
They were moving men like I am!
Thatīs fine, but I need my papers. I wonder who did it.
Well, I know who did it... Iīm almost sure of it.
Raymond, you know who I mean. I guess you donīt agree...
Yes, I do! It could only be her.
I guessed it at once...
Martine...
Raymond, you know where she lives. Run over there...
No, I donīt know!
Come on, sheīs your sweetie!
Sheīs not: she turned me down.
She peddles her black market stuff around theatres. Thatīs how we met.
I took her out once. Thatīs all. I donīt even know her address.
Iīve never been to her place...
but sheīs a looker...
I let people think we slept together.
Letīs call the police.
I donīt want the police to seet foot in this theatre.
This way, please...
Clear the aisle. Thank you.
Any seats tonight?
No, itīs opening night.
Thatīs Marion Steiner.
Where is Mrs Steinerīs office?
Itīs on the landing.
Her dressing room is there.
No. Leave the flowers here.
Theyīll poison the air in there.
I hear them, Marion.
I donīt see how you can eat. I couldnīt.
Sure you can. Here.
No, I swear I canīt.
What if tonightīs a disaster?
Weīll do a new play.
With what money?
Have you seen our accounts? I have.
If itīs a flop, we lose the theatre.
Iīm terrified. How can you be so calm?
Lucas, you picked the play, you staged it...
we followed your advice.
Itīs your creation. If it doesnīt work...
if it doesnīt work...
Iīm to blame, itīs my fault... my own fault...
but weīll all be up shit creek!
Have a drink.
I donīt know how you do it...
I feel faint...
Iīm sick to my stomach.
Just relax...
Wait, put this over your stomach... sit down.
Thanks.
I must go now.
Weīll talk later.
Sure.
So long.
I should be reassuring you.
Thereīs no need to. I feel gay as a lark.
"Isnīt Eric here?"
"He was restless this morning.
Heīs probably at the gate, watching the road."
"Dr Sanders wouldnīt allow him to go to the station."
"My godfather knows best.
I suppose he wanted to speak to the new tutor in private.
But if Iīd been consulted, Iīd say...
Eric has no need for a tutor.
Heīs too young and I enjoy teaching him the little I know."
"You are right, Mrs...
but this big house is too quiet for Eric.
My mother says that when she worked here...
she often served 20 dinner guests."
There are 25 of us in Paris: weīre "public utilities".
"On my birthday...
when Dr Sanders told me I could eat with the grown-ups...
I cried."
How come sheīs going in?
My son is acting in this play!
"Shall I prepare Ericīs room now?"
You alright?
As the boss used to say: "When you gotta go, you gotta go!"
"Tell Eric to finish his homework."
"This is Mr Carl, our new tutor.
I should have warned you...
The resemblance is striking...
Itīs truly amazing!"
"l donīt know what you mean.
But I expected an older man."
"Iīm an experienced teacher."
"I donīt doubt it.
But so far, my son has been raised solely by us.
I had hoped he might be guided by someone who...
Still, since my godfather trusts you...
Eric, meet your new tutor."
"Helena, be wary of your faulty memory.
Here are his credentials.
I showed them to you a month ago."
What a bastard!
"Youīre surely right, I was confused..."
"Certainly by the resemblance."
"Every new face upsets me...
But Iīll get used to him. Besides...
Eric seems happy."
"Can I take Mr Carl around the estate?"
"Of course, child."
"Listen, Gregory."
"When will you learn to trust me?
Donīt you realize how I cherish you?
Besides..."
"l donīt want to lose you."
Hurry up!
Germaine, weīve only got five minutes!
Donīt turn around!
How did it go?
Weīll know when itīs over.
Watch it...
Easy...
Whatīs going on?
Weīre 5 minutes late.
Canīt we go in quietly?
"I must tell you about Dr Sanders."
"Youīve no right!"
"I must tell you, Helena:
Dr Sanders didnīt come back after Charles-Henriīs death,
but before it."
"Since I came here, Iīve heard nothing but lies...
lies and contradictions."
"They werenīt lies, but blanks.
Iīve spent years trying to learn the truth.
Itīs terrifying not to know who I am, or what I did.
Worse yet, is the fear that it may occur again.
At times, I feel I donīt really exist."
"But when I told you I love you...
Why didnīt you listen?"
I had no right to love, donīt you see?
No right to love, or be loved."
"And now?"
"Now, Iīm coming to love and it hurts.
ls love painful?"
"Yes, love is painful.
Like a bird of prey, it hovers over us...
as if to threaten us.
But it is also a promise of happiness.
Youīre lovely, Helena...
so lovely that itīs painful to look at you."
"Yesterday, you said it was a joy."
"It is a joy and itīs painful."
We won!
Iīm sorry, but Marionīs exhausted.
You understand... Sheīs got to rest.
You can come in.
Send her a note. Sheīll appreciate it.
I didnīt know you were here. Come in.
My husbandīs with me.
So he is!
Put them there.
- You were wonderful. - Thanks.
I knew the torn dress would be effective.
Sorry, but they insist on it.
Captain Wiedekind and his wife.
My husband doesnīt speak French.
Cheer up! You look grim.
Iīm not. Hereīs to you.
It went smoothly.
Except for that louse, Daxiat.
What are you brooding about?
Iīm not. I was thinking about the play.
I enjoyed playing with you. I was really moved.
You gave a great performance.
Iīll do better in a few days.
See that man over there?
The one whoīs by himself?
Yes. Please get him out of here.
Leave it to me.
Remember me?
Yes. You canīt stay here...
This is a private gathering... A working session.
Sheīs expecting me.
Sheīs not expecting anyone. Sheīs exhausted...
That way out!
Did she get my flowers?
Were those your roses?
They were so full of thorns her hands were all bloody!
If I were you, Iīd go home real fast!
So long!
Thank you very much.
You were excellent!
Bravo, you were great!
I was? Thanks.
Looking for someone?
No, never mind.
Are you pleased?
Iīm happy for Marion.
I donīt understand you. You heard the applause! Itīs a hit!
A hit... a hit...
Maybe so, but itīs far from perfect.
From down here, you can tell all the weak spots.
I made notes. Iīll read them to you.
Sit down.
In the first place...
Are you crazy? We canīt do that now.
Theyīre waiting for me. I canīt stay.
Come back later on.
How can I?
Weīre all together up there. You know what itīs like...
Then, spend the night here.
Thatīs impossible. Be sensible.
Iīll come down tomorrow morning.
Then take my notes. Study them.
Alright.
Wait... look at me!
Where can I put them? Keep them till tomorrow.
Kiss me...
Goodbye.
Daxiat liked it. Heīll give us a rave...
Hereīs Marion!
Where were you?
Some champagne for Marion...
I want the "Petit Parisien"...
"Aujourdīhui", "La Gerbe"...
īīComediaīī and īīJe Suis Partout.īī
Listen to Daxiat:
"The Montmartre Theatre has changed its management,
but not its spirit. Its new play is a hazy vignette."
"Hazy!" Sure... he missed the beginning.
"Colorless...
and apolitical, it deliberately ignores our real problems."
Naturally!
"Mrs Steiner maintains...
the tradition of Jewish nihilism...
which has always polluted that theatre.
The play says nothing about Jews. Yet, it reeks of Jewishness.
As to the staging by Jean-Loup Cottins...
it is merely an effeminate version of Lucas Steinerīs style."
Hear, hear!
"What can I say about Marion Steinerīs performance?
Itīs all-pathos, but unfit for the stage.
Back to the movies, Mrs!"
See?
"The only revelation is Bernard Granger..."
"He creates a totally convincing character.
A star is born."
At last!
Itīs not funny.
No, but the other reviews are good.
With the booking weīve got, the playīs a winner.
Thanks to you, Marion.
Your film fans come to see you in the play.
"...the Jewish nihilism which polluted that theatre."
He signed it, but it reads like an anonymous letter!
Youīre right.
Daxiat and company have the same poisonous motives.
Before, they were nobodies...
Now, they rule the country, but for how long?
Look at this passage...
Itīs about you.
Me?
Yes...
Look here...
"Not content to monopolize our stage and screen...
the Jews steal our most beautiful women."
They sound cheerful.
Itīs a private party.
The director of the "Hebertot" wants to meet you.
Miss Bataille...
Mr Daxiat...
Bravo! Congratulations. You were fantastic!
Your article was outrageous!
Apologize to Mrs Steiner!
Certainly not!
Youīll apologize to the whole cast!
I wonīt fight.
Letīs go outside.
Youīre insane!
This is absurd!
Youīre ridiculous!
Apologize to Mrs Steiner.
Apologize!
I wonīt apologize for doing my job!
I wonīt fight!
Yes, you will!
I refuse to fight!
Iīm not a prize-fighter: Iīm a journalist!
Youīre irresponsible! How could you do this to us?
What about my theatre?
What about our play?
All you care about is your theatre!
"How are the bookings?"
"Will we do a matinee at Xmas?"
Yes, the theatres are full now, but so are the jails!
Listen, weīll go on playing together.
But offstage, donīt you dare speak to me!
"Youīre lovely...
so lovely itīs painful to look at you."
"You said it was a joy."
"lt is a joy...
yet itīs painful."
Look at this...
ltīs crazy!
Now that the playīs working out...
you can relax.
Why look at me that way...
At times, I feel you hate me.
Not at all...
Iīd be crazy to hate you!
You are a little crazy! I know you by heart.
I know you too.
For me, that play belongs to the past.
Iīve got a new project:
"The Magic Mountain"...
with a great role for you. Are you listening?
Yes.
Itīs about a cruel woman...
Me... cruel?
No, the character!
Sheīs gentle, tender, in love, and yet...
sheīs cruel. She doesnīt mean to be...
Sheīs cruel despite herself.
Cruel!
Itīll be wonderful!
No literature! Weīll use everyday language.
Iīll use your own words, you see?
I see that from now on, everything I say may be held against me.
Mr Daxiat?
Over there.
I was reluctant to come, but with you, one doesnīt know...
whether itīs an appointment, or a summons.
Apparently, you misread my review...
Was that a review?
Iīd say it was a vicious attack.
Assuming it was, it wasnīt aimed at you. On the contrary...
Across all the columns...
And donīt forget the exclamation mark.
I went to the theatre expecting to see a play...
directed by Jean-Loup Cottins.
Instead, I saw a nondescript show...
with no style.
I felt you were merely a front... and worse yet...
a mouth-piece for a fugitive.
Normally, Iīd answer in kind.
But as it is, Iīll just go.
Wait... Iīve got a proposition for you.
Whatever it is, my answer is no!
I want you to help me save the "Montmartre".
Steiner turned it over to his wife before running away...
I found out the transaction is illegal...
because the transfer was ante-dated.
This kind of transaction is labelled a "fictitious aryanization".
Meaning what?
It means that legally, the theatre doesnīt belong to anyone...
and the Germans can requisition it. Unless...
Unless what?
Unless it is taken over by someone they approve of.
Daxiat didnīt beat about the bush.
He proposed that they share the management...
Heīd select the plays. Jean-Loup would direct.
I assume Jean-Loup refused.
No, he didnīt. He couldnīt.
All he could do was to stall for time.
The only way to fight Daxiat is to appeal to a higher-up
like Dr Dietrich.
But Jean-Loup refuses to do it.
Dr Dietrich, please.
On the first floor.
Youīll have to wait.
Dr Dietrich, please.
Thatīs impossible.
I called him. Heīs expecting me.
Whatīs your name?
Marion Steiner.
I see youīve got a 5 p. m. appointment...
but itīs impossible.
I donīt mind waiting.
Iīm sorry. Itīs useless to wait:
Dr Dietrich left for the Eastern front.
He was recalled for active duty.
Then, thatīs that.
Mrs Steiner, Iīd like a word with you.
Iīm an admirer of yours...
I am Lieutenant Berger.
About Dr Dietrich...
Heīs not on the Eastern front: he shot himself last night.
Itīs tragic...
He admired you enormously...
and so do I.
Itīs an honor to shake your hand.
I must speak to you.
Iīm sorry, but itīs absolutely necessary.
Iīm leaving the theatre.
But Iīll give you time to find another actor.
I should have expected this.
No, itīs not what you think...
You canīt forgive my row with Daxiat...
and I understand your reaction.
But even if you wonīt speak to me,
we are a good acting-team.
I love the play and I love my role. So itīs not that.
Thereīs no need to justify yourself.
Iīm not even sure weīll replace you...
The theatre may soon be shut down.
I suppose you got a better offer from Hebertot.
No, itīs not for Hebertot or any other theatre.
Iīm temporarily giving up acting...
to join the Resistance.
"Helena, I wish to speak to Mr Carl in private."
"If itīs about my son...
I have the right to listen."
Civil Defense!
Cellar inspection!
"Mr Carl, isnīt it unfair?
As Ericīs mother, I have the right to know."
"Frankly, Dr Sanders...
this is embarrassing."
"Never mind, Mr Carl.
Helena, please do as I say."
"Since you insist, Iīll leave."
"This is what happened:
last October, she went for a walk...
and simply disappeared."
Itīs for the cellar.
- The cellar? - Yes.
Out of the question!
"When she came back, she was unable...
to tell us where sheīd been."
"Was she amnesic?"
"I suppose so."
Put them in a side box.
Follow me.
"Youīre right...
Helenaīs dependency on me may seem peculiar.
She behaves like a child.
Her gratitude is excessive."
"At times, she seems too humble."
"Why she feels guilty, I donīt know.
But whatever it is, it leads her...
to seek the affection of her inferiors:
Charles-Henri was bewildered by it.
And then the tragedy occured."
"What tragedy?"
"I know Dr Sanders...
came back before Charles-Henriīs death!"
Dīyou know them?
Civil Defense.
No, theyīre Gestapo men. I know one of them.
Gestapo?
- Will you help me? - Yes.
But no questions!
"Love is painful.
Like a bird of prey, it hovers over us...
as if to threaten us.
But it is also a promise of happiness.
Youīre so lovely, Helena...
that itīs painful to look at you."
"You said it was a joy."
"It is a joy and itīs painful."
No curtain calls tonight.
Whatīs up?
Itīs Civil Defense... to inspect the cellar.
This is Bernard Granger.
Bernard... my husband.
Donīt just stand there! Youīve got to conceal all this and hide!
Take us to the cellar!
No... wait for Mrs Steiner.
Iīm going in.
No, sheīs not dressed.
Letīs be gentlemanly.
So I made a mistake!
Be patient.
Iīll be right out.
I never go down there. Itīs probably full of rats.
Have you got the key?
Watch your heads!
Seems to me itīs not deep enough for a shelter.
Thereīs about 8" between the ceiling and the yard.
Whatīs this?
We used it in "The Cherry Orchard".
Thereīs only room for 40 people.
In any case, itīs been condemned since 39.
During air-raids, we use the subway.
The local station is open all night.
Can we use that staircase for firewood?
There are so many air-raids now...
nobody bothers to go down.
Well, they cleared out... till the next time.
This is a hell of a life!
Itīs a life... itīs my life.
Canīt you find a better hiding place?
I donīt want one. This is my place...
and this is where I stay!
My wife is beautiful, isnīt she?
Let me ask you a question:
sheīs in love with you, but do you love her?
"Iīm coming to love and it hurts.
Iīm coming to love and it hurts.
Is love painful?"
"Yes, love is painful.
Like birds of prey, it hovers over us...
as if to threaten us.
But it is a promise of happiness.
Youīre so lovely...
that itīs painful to look at you."
"You said it was a joy."
"It is a joy and itīs painful."
Bernard, may I ask you something?
Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?
Of course not...
I was waiting for the rehearsal to end.
Well, itīs over now. It was sad...
I watched it.
Well?
He was good.
Itīs a lesson in humility: weīre all expendable.
Well, goodbye Bernard...
I felt you were interested in all women...
except for me.
First, itīs not all women...
and you intimidated me.
You seemed to disapprove of me.
At times, you were downright hostile.
Hostile?
Yes, I felt you were judging me.
Itīs just the opposite!
I was so attracted to you...
that I covered up so nobody would notice...
and I made you hate me.
Thatīs not true. I never hated you.
But why did you act so distant after youīd kissed me?
All actors kiss each other.
But not on the mouth!
I kissed you on the mouth?
Yes...
on opening night.
I couldnīt have!
You kissed me on the mouth!
I know: you see two women in me.
I do:
I see two women in you:
one who no longer loves her husband...
No, donīt...
You wouldnīt understand.
Donīt forget your make-up.
I wonīt need it.
Iīll leave it for my successor.
I wonīt be using any make-up.
But you may need a disguise.
Forgive me...
And so, Lucien Ballard took over the part of Carl.
Nadine Marsac, now famous,
rushes off right after her final lines.
A chauffeur drives her to the studios...
where theyīre shooting "Angels of Mercy" at night.
Arlette Guillaume is the art director of the film.
In June 1944, the Allies land in Normandy.
Despite the daily hardships...
Parisians keep on crowding the theatres.
One night...
ignoring the sirens...
the audience stood outside...
to watch the ballet of the RAF planes in the sky.
Many theatres are shut down for lack of electricity.
Thanks to Raymondīs ingenuity, the "Montmartre" remains open.
Heīs replaced the footlights by auto headlights
Germanyīs defeat is now inevitable.
After 813 days and nights in his dark cellar...
Lucas Steiner is impatient to see daylight.
The street...
is a scene of confusion and sporadic shooting.
No...
Not there!
Itīs a hectic period for Jean-Loup.
Arrested by the F.F.I.,
he is released thanks to his connections...
but re-arrested the next day because of his connections.
As for Daxiat, he is a man on the run.
The one-time press lord is now a pariah.
Heīs survived the bombing of Hamburg.
After following Petain to Germany...
he reaches Spain via a series of monasteries.
Sentenced to death in absentia,
he will die of a cancer in the ī60īs.
But let us go back to the summer of 1944...
and to our story.
I tried to forget you. I couldnīt.
If not for your pride, Iīd have come sooner.
Youīd have had to make up a lie each time you came.
Why should I lie? And to whom? Heīs dead now.
But youīve got your career...
No. I realized I didnīt care about it anymore...
I gave it all up.
The only thing that matters to me...
is to be with you, to get you out of here.
We can start all over again.
No we canīt.
There was never anything...
anything real...
between us.
I toyed with the idea...
but I never really loved you.
It was an abstract notion.
You believed in it because I believed it myself.
I never stopped thinking of you... not even for a day.
I thought of you too...
but less and less often.
And now, I donīt know what youīre doing here.
Iīve almost forgotten your name...
I barely remember the way you look.
Go away!
Listen to me. Listen carefully.
It takes two to love...
as it takes two to hate. And Iīll go on loving you.
You make my heart beat faster. Nothing else matters to me.
Goodbye.
Thereīs Steiner!
Heīs back!
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