What's the news, then? Huh?
Oh, the Giants won.
The Giants?
Baseball.
Baseball.
And what about Paris?
Didn't you hear the radio?
I have no radio. It's finished.
Washed up.
Paris has fallen?
Germans marched in last night.
Without a fight?
They capitulated.
I don't believe this.
Hey. We better get moving.
Raymond doesn't like to be kept
waiting.
You want the job, don't you?
Yes.
Yes.
$ a week is a lot of dough
just for writing an art column.
I need an advance.
Do you think he'll give it to me?
I told him you were in Spain.
He doesn't exactly think you've got
Generalissimo Franco written
on your heart.
But play it down a little, will you?
I, too, was a general.
Yeah, well, better not mention.
I am unlikely to boast.
I know the price a man has to pay
for having fought in Spain.
Six months, I'm without work.
Well, we Americans don't like w*r.
Then you are going to be very happy.
When h*tler inv*de England,
everything is under the jackboot.
You have peace,
then - totalitarian peace.
OK, better than Europe having these
wars every years or so.
Look, I don't like these Nazis,
but they're human beings, right?
So they conquer Europe.
What happens?
They won themselves a hell of a lot
of problems, that's all.
A dozen different languages
and cultures.
How do they sort it out?
There's just one way.
Let every country run itself
inside one big European federation.
Well, don't you see?
It'll be something like our
United States of America.
Oh, I'm sorry.
You're probably worrying
about your wife and kid.
They'll be in Paris right
at this minute? Christ, I hope not.[
Well, Paris will be the safest
spot in Europe right now.
For all that you Europeans sh**t
each other up, you recognise
the importance of your heritage.
You've said quite firmly,
"Paris is a sanctuary.
"Must be left unharmed."
Madrid held out for two and a half
years.
Now, we're not going to compare
Madrid and Paris, I hope?
I hope not, too. You don't like
Paris?
He's there right now.
Huh?
Did the French lift a finger
against Franco?
I am glad h*tler has got to Paris.
Let them have a taste of it.
I am glad.
Let's go.
Oh, Christ, of course.
We've lost the w*r.
The Germans are in Paris.
AIRPLANE
Look out!
..it's a Messerschmitt. Are you
sure?
Look at the engine - it's
a Messerschmitt , I tell you.
Stupid buggers.
They're sh**ting at them!
Bloody hell, he'll come back and
blast us.
Keep still, the lot of you, or he'll
spot us.
Stupid bastards.
Fancy f*ring on them now, what's
the point?
He's buggering off. Thank Christ,
he's buggering off.
Oh, jeez.
CROSSTALK
Mathieu? What? What is it?
Do you think we'll be moving
off today? I don't know.
If we stay here much longer,
we're all going to get captured.
I'm a Jew.
And me Dad was Polish.
Yes, I know.
Shut up and listen!
BANGING
How far off do you think?
I'd say km.
Why don't they give up?
What the devil do you think
you're doing?
Are you out of your minds?
Answer me.
What do you think you're doing here?
We decided to sleep out
in the open, sir.
You decided?
If the German bombers spotted you,
they could destroy the whole
of divisional HQ.
The Germans know perfectly well
we're here.
All our moves were made
in broad daylight.
I gave strict orders that nobody
was to leave that barn.
And what are you all doing lying
on your backs in the presence
of an officer? Get up.
So...
You're one of them, too,
are you, Sergeant?
You ought to be damned
well ashamed of yourself.
Will you please kindly explain to me
why you left that barn?
It's too hot in there, sir.
We couldn't sleep. Too hot?
I suppose we should have installed
an electric fan or two for you.
[font color="♪ffff
Has nobody told you there's
a w*r on?
The w*r's over, sir.
Over?
But they're still fighting
over there.
They've been told to keep on f*ring
until the Armistice is signed.
They're getting themselves
k*lled for nothing, the poor sods.
Now, look here, you... Oh...
Whatever happens, you're still
soldiers.
And until you're sent back
home, you'll behave
as soldiers and obey your officers.
FART
SOLDIERS LAUGH
You'll be staying with us, then,
sir. What?
You'll stay by us all the way
to the prison camp?
Well, sir?
SOLDIERS HUM GERMAN ANTHEM
Get up and get dressed.
At once.
FART
SOLDIERS LAUGH
There's an officer who would make a
bloody good ballet dancer, wouldn't
he?
It's his last dance.
Yeah, you're right.
What's the matter, my darling?
Yes, it's all too quiet, isn't it?
Silence can be terrifying.
Only you and me in the whole
of Paris. Hmm?
Oh, no, not quite.
There are lots of other pussies
about,
and now that their masters and
mistresses have done a bunk,
they're having one hell of a time.
I've seen dozens of them on my walk,
chasing rats, emptying dustbins,
or simply doing naughty
little p*ssy things to each other.
No milk today, I'm afraid.
All the shops are shut and barred,
it's a dead city,
my darling.
Motionless.
Have a little smoked salmon,
why don't you? Hmm?
There.
You know, you must thank your lucky
stars that your master is not only
a q*eer and a stock exchange stag,
but nowadays he is also
a high churchman.
In short, he has every qualification
for the black market.
Hmm?
Well, we have to survive, don't we?
Yes.
I've just walked down
from the Luxembourg
to the Rue Danton,
where are the heroes?
Where are the defenders of this
great French culture of ours?
The artistic and intellectual
leadership of Europe and the world?
I'll tell you. In brief,
once challenged, they've had
the shits and pissed off.
That's the truth about our
great French culture.
It's a hollow veneer, a brilliant
chat of scented boudoirs.
That's our great contribution
to mankind.
The empty, yapping, cosy,
sexy, graceful stint.
The great, bummed-up Paris is empty.
All gone, deserted.
It's only me and you left
to comfort each other.
Blind, stupid nature and a pervert.
I'm a pervert, all right.
I went down to the Pont Saint-Miche,
and when I got there, do you know
what I wanted to do?
I wanted to pull my trousers
down and stand there,
everything exposed, and shout out
to those empty streets...
..long live Germany.
Yes, puss.
Long live Germany.
They've got something real,
something basic and muscular and
cruel and beautiful.
Ours is phoney.
All that fellow citizen
and democratic rubbish.
When the real test comes,
everybody runs away because they
know in their hearts it is a lie.
Only the Germans have the truth.
I thank you, God, for Adolf h*tler.
Through him, you have shown
us the truth.
LAUGHTER AND CHATTER
Come on, you filthy bugger.
Get up and wash.
Yeah. Take your hand off the
one-eyed snake. You'll die,
as wankers do, I'm telling you.
Oh, shut it. Posh yourself up,
just to please the bloody Boche.
Not me, mate.
They can take me as they find me.
Yeah, we might move on today.
Then we won't be taken prisoner.
Come on, get up out of there.
Piss off. Yeah, he's right.
You might be ordered to retreat,
then line up and fight it out.
Father Christmas might come
down your chimney...
Listen, we may be took prisoner,
but it's no reason to behave
like sh*t-eats, is it, eh?
Get off!
Listen, when the Boche comes,
we've got to look clean and tidy.
We may have lost the w*r,
but we're not bloody pigs.
We're French.
Vive la France.
Come on! Oh, shove off...
Leave him alone, why don't you?
That's the way he wants it.
We all need a good blow through.
That's what's wrong with us.
Raise one at this hour?
I can do any time, mate, can't you?
At this time of the morning?
Oh, dear. You must be joking.
I'd rather have a good crap.
You ain't married, are you?
When you're married, you've got
to learn to do the job
whenever she wants it.
Mind you, a good bounce
has got its advantages.
Frees the mind, see, stops you
thinking about things.
Besides, when you're married,
you ain't got time to have a crap.
That's true. Listen! Shut up and
listen, everybody.
What's up, then?
The g*ns have stopped.
COCKEREL CROWS
It could be a general order.
No more f*ring, over the whole
front.
What front?
There ain't no front.
I think what happens is that first
we'll hear a bugle call.
Don't be stupid. There ain't
no lines of communication.
It's all broke down.
They might have signed the Armistice
hour ago...
..we'd know damn-all about it.
Hey, look, the w*r could
have ended at midnight.
Well, they always have the
ceasefire at midnight.
Zero hours, innit? Shut up!
DISTANT g*nf*re
Ah, strewth.
Hey, what are they mucking about at?
Don't they know we've had our
bleeding shifts.
We've been butchered enough,
ain't we? Who's been butchered?
Hey, go on, tell me, where's
the dead?
Where's the wounded? I can't see
any.
All I can see is a lot
of windy buggers like you.
Now, don't come it, mate.
What's got into him? Anybody know?
I thought he was the best amongst
[font color="♪f
when it come to swinging the lead.
I've never known you to volunteer
for nothing, mate. Mind you, now the
[font color="
Who said the w*r's over?
Look, we might have to retreat
right across France,
there's always North Africa,
isn't there? Oh, yeah.
And if that fails, we could cross
the Atlantic, couldn't we?
How about French Guiana?
You take your bloody...
Stop it. Poxy piss t*nk! What's the
[font color="♪ffff
Fighting's not going to settle
anything.
There'll be no more w*r, no
more fighting, not ever again.
The Germans must realise it,
the same as us. w*r's in
nobody's interest.
We've all got to live in peace, all
men.
That's just the sort of bleedin'
attitude
that's lost us the bleedin' w*r.
He's a tough little champion,
this morning.
Everyone out of step bar him.
Shut up! Sweat cobs.
Come on, leave him alone.
What's the matter?
What are you saying, Mathieu?
Hey, come on,
you're not bloody deaf.
What's your opinion?
I have no opinion.
I thought schoolmasters
had opinions about everything.
No, not everything. Oh, dear, oh,
dear,
you do disappoint me.
Shut up!
You know perfectly well further
resistance is impossible.
What?
Well, you're the last bloke
I thought would have the wind up.
The French should fight
to the finish.
We should fight to the last man.
Pinette. What?
If it was a question
of MY fighting and dying,
I can have an opinion
because it's me.
I can't decide for others.
Well, why not?
I mean, somebody's got to do
it, haven't they? Otherwise, nothing
gets bloody organised.
Look, there are no decisions
we can make
that alter things one little bit.
So why pretend? Why have opinions,
if nothing can grow out of them,
why pretend that we're men,
when we're just shadows?
Eh? I didn't choose this w*r.
I didn't choose this defeat.
Of course we can pretend
we've got opinions.
We can pretend we've got choice.
It's just make-believe.
We're comedians,
the lot of us, acting out somebody
else's bloody question mark.
HE GROANS
What is it?
What's wrong, man?
Well, spill it out,
for Christ's sake.
Look, you're going to be
the greatest art critic
we've ever had. It's all up to you.
Sure. It's all up to me.
Well, what's wrong, then?
Raymond give us too good
a lunch, huh?
Too much wine and brandy.
You think the drink has gone
to my head?
If you could have seen yourself
when we crossed Central Park,
I thought you were going
to take off.
Yes, I was elated
when I came out of the restaurant.
It was like a cataract had been torn
from my eyes. Such colours.
Crimson, gold.
They vibrate. They dazzle.
They explode upon my vision.
It was as though the world of form
and colour was begging me
to make my swansong.
I shall not sing again.
I am no longer a painter.
I must live and work a stage
removed.
I am an art critic.
That puts you in a very powerful
position.
No, no, no, the doing is all.
These are other men's thoughts
and colours.
They are finalised.
They're finished.
They're dead things.
Then, we'd better take a stroll
around the mall.
I'd better start earning my $
advance.
It says nothing to me.
You can't get back
into your old form right away.
You've got to give your mind to it.
Give my mind to that!
Oh, I thought you like Mondrian.
So did I.
Well, you needn't necessarily
write about Mondrian
for your first article.
Not necessarily.
But my editor didn't give
the right touch of seriousness
to my criticisms,
the right highbrow tone.
Look, Gomez, don't start off
by being too destructive, will you?
Why not? Because you're...
You're writing for
the great American public
and they don't like shocks.
Write simple, common sense things.
Say them with charm.
That's the way you'll make
a name for yourself.
You think so?
If you have to att*ck someone,
then for Pete's sake,
don't let it be Mondrian!
He's our god!
Naturally, he asks no questions!
Yes, a hell of a lot.
Yes, but no more
disturbing questions.
Nothing... Nothing painful.
You mean questions like sex,
the meaning of life, poverty?
I was forgetting you studied
in Germany. Grundlichkeit, huh?
CHUCKLES: Don't you think
that's just a little demode?
What is the function of a painter?
Huh?
What do you ask of him?
For his innocence, of course.
For that transcendental thing
the artist has.
Take this one.
It makes you feel you want
to blossom out,
it's so full of joy.
I'm not full of joy.
I would be the lowest,
I would be a cabrone,
should I have any claim to joy!
All my friends are in prison
or dead.
You've got a lot of
personal problems, I know -
fascism, defeat of the Allies,
Spain, your wife and kid -
but it's a good thing to get
above all that occasionally.
Not for one moment.
Not for a single moment!
Well, what would you paint, then?
Strikes? Massacres?
Bloated capitalists?
I've never much believed
in revolutionary art.
And at the moment, I don't believe
in it at all.
Well, that makes two of us.
GROANS: Trouble is,
I'm not at all sure
I haven't lost my belief in art
of any kind.
And in revolution?
I have seen all I want to see.
I can compose an article on Mondrian
any time I like!
Picasso's Guernica.
SCREAMING
b*mb EXPLODES
SCREAMING, g*nf*re
BABY CRIES, g*nf*re
EXPLOSIONS, CRYING CONTINUES
This is why I suspect art.
Huh?
Suffering becomes justified
when the artists use it
to make a work of art.
The suffering I have seen,
I do not wish to justify.
Perhaps it's why I shall
never paint again.
Sorry, I... I don't get you.
One cannot paint evil.
I think I shall go a walk,
find a little French cafe somewhere.
There's one on th Street,
La Petite Coquette.
Good. Yeah, but I thought you...
Well? You despise the French.
That is why I wish to see what the
Frenchmen are looking like today.
They give up Paris.
They run away like rats.
They have no principles, no beliefs.
They are a lost people!
Cities sometime go to the heart
to indulge in contempt.
See you.
COUGHING
COUGHS: What are they
bloody burning?!
Our maps.
COUGHING
Here we are. "Scale : , ."
Oh, God!
Oh, what a state! Come on, I'm...
CROSSTALK, COUGHING
Anything's better than that.
THEY GROAN
They're setting fire to
the divisional records,
the whole bloody lot.
You know what?
I saw the captain burn
his wife's letters.
You pulling our legs? That's
right. And he burnt her photos.
I saw her in the flames.
Lovely piece, she was. Dark hair.
Bloody great pair of bouncers,
she had!
Ah, get away with you!
I'm telling you. Bloody hell!
Are you going to burn
your pusher's photos, Mathieu?
Well, I haven't...got a pusher.
What about you?
You burning your wife's?
Wait till the Germans
get here, first.
What's that you got there, Longin?
This? History book.
What history book?
History of the two Restorations.
Oh! Who's it by?
Vaulabelle.
Vaulabelle? Who's he?
Buggered if I know. Would you
lend it to me?[font color=
Here, give him it!
"Book Three"? You won't know
how it starts!
LAUGHTER
It's to occupy my mind, that's all.
I've lost me place now.
LAUGHTER
What you writing, Sarge,
your memoirs?
Oh, no, mate. No, I'm just
keeping up with me
correspondence course. Ah.
What you got there?
Oh, a bit of bread, mate.
Where'd you get it?
Scrounged at dinner. Oh.
Well... It's all wrapped up now,
innit?
What is? What's happened?
It has.
Eh? What has?
It's signed? Yeah.
Signed this morning.
Hey, how do you know?
Charlie was just telling me.
Where did he get it from?
On the wireless.
News has just come through.
DISTANT a*tillery
What are they doing, then?
The ceasefire's not till midnight.
You're not having us on, are you?
It's official.
Come on, give us the details!
No details.
Just the statement, that's all.
What about us? Hmm?
What about us? What happens?
We get demobbed? We're sent home?
What? I just told you. No de
They've thrown in the towel!
The bastards, they've thrown in
[font color="♪ffffff"
Armistice is signed, then?
Right on the dotted line.
There won't be much bargaining.
Boche has got us by the short
and hairy, hasn't he?
We're the lowest form of
animal life, I tell you.
We're so low, we could crawl under
a snake's belly with a top hat on!
It's all right for you,
isn't it, Schwartz?
You come from Alsace.
All that happens to you
is the bloody Germans readopt you.
All right, I'm dead cushy. Jealous?
You rotten German bastard!
THEY LAUGH
Just my luck. Hey, put in a good
word for us, why don't you, m
Why should I,
you load of French poofs?
THEY LAUGH
You speak German, do you?
Of course I do. I got it from me
dad.
Well, you tell the Germans
where to find his bloody runners...
LAUGHTER, CROSSTALK
What am I laughing for?
Oh, Mathieu!
LAUGHTER
LAUGHTER CONTINUES
IN HEAD: This laughter - who am I
to pass judgment?
They're making the great refusal.
Rather than be dignified,
civilised Frenchmen,
they choose to be giggling, cackling
sh*t heaps!
Yet the choice is right,
spontaneous and right.
Why worry about anything as long as
one has health and food and drink?
They've seen the truth.
They don't strut around as
tragic victims, historic figures.
They don't claim
their predestined failures.
They don't even comfort themselves
with the thought
that life is a gamble.
They use their laughter to bounce
back from the walls of absurdity.
They laugh to punish themselves,
to purify themselves,
to have their vengeance.
No, I can't condemn them,
I envy them too much.
They have a true insight.
Their laughter, their comic agony,
is a reproach against the heavens.
HE SIGHS
That's that, then.
CLEARS THROAT: That's that.
Well, don't say I didn't warn you.
What did I say after Narvik, eh?
What did I say after Finland?
Old grumble...
No, we were bound to lose, bound to.
I suppose you're satisfied now, eh?
Eh? You've got what you wanted.
I just said I saw it was coming,
that's all.
Ah, shut up and stop arguing!
What's the point?
We had bad luck, that's all.
Bad luck? Yes, bad luck.
We won last time.
This time, they won.
Next time, it'll be our turn again.
There won't be a next time.
Won't be another w*r,
not in Europe.
We're united now.
United Europe!
Oh, aye, as slaves of h*tler.
Look, mate, there had to be
a h*tler, didn't there?
Nations are like people, see?
They're all out for number one.
But they have to have a leader,
somebody who will bring them
together and lick them into shape.
Ah, go and play with yourself!
Don't you roil me, mate!
I'm talking about peace, I am.
I'm talking about , years
of peace.
We've got to think European now,
mates - all of us living together,
appreciating one another,
just like one big family.
You agree, don't you, son?
Only one thing I agree about -
the sooner everybody lays down their
arms, the better. There yo
We mustn't make the Germans angry.
They'll start doing things
to people if we make them angry.
IN HEAD: The lot of them, every
single one of them, is running away.
Everybody's got their escape route.
Schwartz is already becoming
a German.
Nippert takes refuge in sleep,
Pinette in anger,
Pierne in innocence.
Luberon stuffs himself with food.
Longin dreams of centuries to come.
And Charlot, a Jew, is planning ways
he might live a quiet life
with the Hun.
Each one rapidly assumes
an attitude which will allow him
to go on living.
OUT LOUD: You make me sick!
What's the matter with him?!
Don't know. Oh, the teacher's pet!
Mathieu?
Ha! Look at that bloke down there!
He doesn't know what's happened.
We'd better tell him the w*r's over.
He'll know soon enough.
Oh, God.
It's hot, huh?
Yeah. I feel like a kip.
You have one - time's your own,
now, mate.
SINGING IN THE DISTANCE
Jesus wept!
What's up? I can't sleep.
Why not?
I'm all churned-up inside.
Understandable. I'm that angry,
I've got to hit somebody.fo
Otherwise I'll choke.
Well, don't you feel angry?
Yeah.
I haven't had a chance
to let off me r*fle.
I haven't fired
a single bloody sh*t.
What are you doing? I'm washing
me bloody feet, what do you th
You said we made you sick.
I didn't mean you.
You meant all of us.
Is it me you'd like to hit?
Go on. Hit me. I'll hit back.
We'll have a bloody good dust-up,
the pair of us.
Might calm us down.
Wouldn't like to hurt you, mate.
A pity.
Christ, mate!
What size are your trotters?
What? Oh.
Little ones, aren't they?
I'm bloody clever with me feet,
you know.
I can open a matchbox with them.
With your toes? Want a bet?
I believe you.
I haven't k*lled
a single sodding German.
It's all been a lot
of sodding marching
and waiting to be mopped up.
That's it. Well, it isn't right.
It's not fair.
That's the way it goes.
We've been let down by a lot
of yellow, shitty, windy bastards.
Come off it, mate.
if we'd been put into action,
we'd have behaved exactly
the same way.
You speak for yourself, mate.
Don't you insult me.
Do you think I'd have pissed off
in front of the enemy?
Do you think that of me? No.
I'd have been mowed down
where I stood.
So you say. I would have stopped
their b*ll*ts right there, mat
It's not my fault what's happened.
I did everything they told me.
I was all trained up, raring
to go, to k*ll the sodding Boche.
Is it my fault
they don't know how to use me?
He's such a stocky bugger.
Tough, eager.
Bit by bit, they'll teach him
how to conform to the pattern
of the conquered.
They'll bend his body
on the fields of Silesia.
They'll have him slaving on some
new autobahn of theirs.
They'll fill him with fatigue
and heaviness and melancholy.
Defeat is a lesson that has yet
to be learned by all of us.
Oh, God, help me.
What's up?
How have we lost this w*r?
What went wrong?
We should have won it.
years - we saw it coming.
We should have won it.
Why haven't we, then?
Wrong people in government.
There you are.
We get the governments we deserve.
Do you ever bother to vote?
Vote? No. Nor did I.
I had other things to do.
So did I.
WHISTLING
Listen to that tune.
If there was only something
we could do.
Such as?
Oh, I don't know. There's bugger all
we can do, isn't there?
Hey. What?
Have I ever showed you
a photograph of the missus?
No.
That's what she calls me!
Dolly. I threatened her,
but she still does it.
I don't know, mate,
she's got to call you something.
It's cos she's a few years older
than me, that's all.
She's attractive.
Think so?
Mind you, she's terrific
in bed, you know?
Shag! She does it all roads.
You'd never credit it.
She comes from a good family,
you know?
So you told me.
Did I tell you that her dad was
the art master at the high school?
Yeah.
Well, they've landed me
up sh*t creek, you know?
Who have? They have. Well, I'm
knackered. I can't go home, yo
Why not? Well, her old man
was in the first lot.
Came back with a chest full
of medals - Croix de Guerre.
All the sodding danglers.
Goes on about it all the time.
Never lets up.
What of it?
Well, how can I face them?
You'll sort yourself out.
Never. Never.
I don't want to go home, you see?
Oh, come on, mate.
They'll have you with open arms.
That's what you think.
My missus can't get enough of it.
But apart from that,
she doesn't think much of me.
It's all for her mother, you see.
If it wasn't for the shags,
she'd despise me.
Got a helluva life
to go back to, I have.
Urgh. Come on. Let's go, shall we?
Where? Oh, I dunno. Just, let's get.
All right, then.
COW MOOS
SHOUTED MARCHING ORDERS
Our conquerors.
SOLDIER SHOUTS COMMANDS IN GERMAN
How beautiful they are!
How radiant!
Such lovely young boys.
Blue eyes, narrow waists.
Oh, and such wonderfully
muscular limbs!
When you compare them
with the average French soldier...
..dear me!
Yes, our champions of democracy
and freedom
are running for their lives.
But these boys are beautiful -
like angels.
Angels of hate,
and fury and extermination.
Just to look at them
gives one a thrill.
A delicious thrill all the way
from my thighs to my head.
SHOUTS IN GERMAN
This is the victory of arrogance,
of v*olence, of bad faith.
This is the victory of the earth.
ORDERS CONTINUE
What joy I feel!
It is quite ecstatic.
The devil has come into his own.
The reign of evil is about to begin.
Double Scotch.
Can I take a look?
Of course, monsieur.
The news isn't too good.
Paris has fallen, eh? Mm.
Soda?
Yes, I'm afraid France is finished.
Don't you think so?
One pays for everything
sooner or later, monsieur.
Yes. One pays for everything.
France is now paying the price
for abandoning our blood relations.
Oh, I see!
You are a French-Canadian?
From Montreal.
You never get any French in here?
A Frenchman, eh?
The gentleman is from Rouen.
He comes in here regular.
You are French, eh?
Yes.
I'd like to buy you a drink.
Oh, thank you.
But the occasion scarcely
calls for drinks.
Why? Because of that?
Because of that.
That's why I'm asking
you to have a drink with me.
I lived in France for ten years.
My wife and son are still there.
Scotch?
All right.
Soda or straight?
Straight.
One Scotch with soda, one straight.
You are not an Italian, are you?
No, I'm not Italian. Ah.
The Italians are all swine.
Let's talk about the French, eh?
Have you anybody still living there?
Not in Paris, no.
I have some nephews who
live in Moulins.
I do not think you have been over
here very long, eh?
And what about you?
Me? Ha-ha.
I settled here in .
That's a good while back.
You like it here?
No.
What don't you like?
The people.
Why stay, then?
I am making money.
Ah, you are in business, eh? Mm.
Hairdresser.
My shop is two blocks away.
Oh, I go back to France
every three years.
I spend two months there.
I was going again this year.
Of course, now this has happened...
..that's that.
Yes.
That's that.
There have been customers
in my place this morning.
Some days it's like that.
And all of them wanted haircut,
shampoo and electric massage.
You'd think, wouldn't you,
that they would have said
something about my country. Ha.
Well, you can think again.
They just sit there reading their
papers, the lot of them,
without saying one word.
And I looked at the headlines
while I shaved them.
Some of them have been coming
to me for years.
Even they said nothing.
My hand was trembling so, I was
afraid I might cut them.
In the end, I put up
the shutters and came here.
They don't give a damn.
Oh, it's not that.
They just don't know what to say.
Paris is a name that means
something to them.
It's because of that
they say nothing.
Americans are like that.
They try not to think.
Well, I drink to France.
To France, no matter
what has happened.
I drink to the day the
United States comes into the w*r.
Ha!
What hope!
Same again.
For more than years,
I have lived in this country,
and this is the first time
I feel a foreigner.
Oh, I know these people.
I have no illusions about them.
But I really thought that somebody
would stretch a friendly hand,
or say a word of sympathy.
Did you have any sympathy
with the Spaniards?
Huh?
Were you in favour
of intervention in Spain?
You are a Spaniard?
Yes.
Huh.
You have had your misfortunes, too.
And the French didn't do
much to help us.
No.
And, you see, the Americans don't do
anything to help us, either.
People and countries are just alike.
It's every man for himself.
I drink to Spain.
The liberation of France.
Well, I guess I'd better
get back to my shop.
The last drink was on me.
No, I see to the lot. Eh? Please.
Thank you.
Same again.
I am drunk.
Oh, bravo.
Haven't you noticed?
Drunk!
You know why I'm drunk? Who cares?
Cos the Huns have taken Paris,
that's why.
It's the worse news since .
What happened in ?
Sh...
..that's personal.
HE SNIFFLES
Keep an eye on him for a minute, eh?
I'll go get a taxi.
Who is he?
He works on Wall Street.
Is it true he gets drunk
because Paris has been taken?
If that's what he says,
I guess it is.
But it was the same way last
week, because what happened
in the Argentine,
and the week before that, because of
the Salt Lake City disaster.
Monsieur, he gets
drunk every weekend,
but never without reason, eh?
An American with a conscience.
Wotcha. Wotcha.
Heard the latest, have you?
Ever been had, mate? Ever been had?
They took us in good and proper.
I wouldn't pull nobody's pisser,
not over a thing like that.
Give it to me straight.
What is it?
Armistice. Ain't nothing doing.
They've been having us on,
stupid buggers.
There's no Armistice?
There is no Armistice?
That's it, no bloody Armistice!
What difference does it make?
What difference does it make?
You'll see, mate.
It'll make all the difference
in the world.
MUSIC: La Route est Dure
by Georgia Brown
♪ Les mains se tendent de tous cotes
♪ Les chaines sont lourdes,
puis-je les oter?
♪ Un seul pas contre la tyrannie
♪ Une raison d'etre
dans toute ma vie
♪ La route est dure,
mais je suis forte
♪ Mon ame est sure,
la peur est morte
♪ Je sais quoi faire avec la vie
♪ Quand toute la terre sera
affranchie. ♪