Fanon (2025)

[bunniefuu]

A FILM WRITTEN BY PHILIPPE BERNARD

AND JEAN-CLAUDE BARNY

Each generation must,

amid relative uncertainty,

discover its mission,

fulfill it, or betray it,

and that means

both me and you.

BLIDA-JOINVILLE HOSPITAL

ALGERIA, 1953

You go to the entrance.

Good morning, madam.

When does your husband arrive?

Dr. Fanon.

Dr. Fanon.

And you are?

Emilio, the guard.

No, thanks.

I'll be fine.

Good morning, gentlemen.

Dr. Fanon, your new department head.

Are there activities?

What do you mean, activities?

They can't even dress themselves.

We already have to clean them

morning and night.

We ration their water.

In this heat?

So they don't throw their piss at us.

The others are over there.

Are they allowed out?

Just a short walk.

Morning, before lunch and evening.

Only when it's a bit cooler.

Only if they've behaved well.

They're scared to death.

They've learned to respect us.

Untie them.

The director will never agree.

Call your colleagues.

Do as I say.

Do it yourself.

Thank you.

So, how was your day?

My staff won't follow me,

but I won't accept

what they're forcing on me.

I'm going to shake things up.

- Good evening. Auguste Darmain.

- Good evening.

Dr. Frantz Fanon?

That's right, Director.

Tell me, freeing the patients,

is that your idea?

I don't chain the patients.

It's for their own safety.

You think you'll change the nature

of North Africans?

In my ward, they'll get the same

treatment as European patients.

The same rights.

You don't know them,

they're dangerous.

North Africans are more violent,

more primitive,

no prefrontal lobe.

Porot, who founded this hospital,

knows what he's talking about.

They're men like you and me.

Did you choose Algeria

for your first posting?

You think I'd be more legitimate

treating my fellow West Indians?

I'm warning you, Fanon,

at the slightest incident,

I'll hold you responsible.

Good thing, Mr. Darmain,

I don't run away

from my responsibilities.

New friend?

He'd never dare lecture

one of his colleagues.

Never.

We don't care what he thinks of you.

Aren't you the one asking

to be judged on results?

In my ward, patients can come and go,

you can control entries and exits.

The keys.

Hello, Mr. Ben Abdellah.

How are you today?

You understand why I need you?

What's he saying?

He wants to see his family, doctor.

His family?

According to his file,

he doesn't have any.

Maybe it's his way

of talking about his isolation.

He wants to know where you're from.

I was born in Martinique,

a small island near America,

the oldest French colony.

My grandparents had chains

on their feet, sl*ves.

They came from Africa too.

What an incredible story.

God bless you.

Khal, nobody asked you.

We'll listen to what you have to say.

You're not like the others.

I have a question, Doctor.

Isn't it risky letting

them walk around?

Walking is an essential need,

it helps the brain function.

And they're not prisoners,

but men like you and me.

You'll learn to live with them

and they with you.

There.

Those who want to work with me,

come to my office.

So, Fanon,

these are your fine theories?

They're not worth much

in the face of reality.

We won't change a century

of domination in a few months.

I don't claim that.

Why do you persist?

Admit you're wrong.

Let me prove otherwise.

You can't be right

and everyone else wrong.

They don't even respect the rules.

Just yesterday

they were glaring at each other.

And now they're playing together.

- Come on, this way.

- This way, this way.

Actually, I'll submit a request

for a football field

in the next budget.

You're not against it?

Don't try to wriggle out of this.

This is serious, Director.

Very serious.

Physical activity socializes

and regulates them.

You're on your own, Fanon.

Yeah.

Hey.

Doctor?

Mr. Fanon.

Be brief, I don't have time.

My name is Jacques Azoulay,

I'm an intern,

I want to join your team.

I want to work with you.

What do they say about me

at Algiers University?

That you're breaking through

a completely outdated

colonial psychiatry.

And no one wants to work with you,

except the Algerians.

So you're coming to my rescue.

No.

Is it true you worked with

Tosquelles at Saint-Alban?

He taught me everything I know.

You want to become a psychiatrist?

I wanted to study philosophy

at first,

but my parents think

it's not a real job.

But being a doctor, yes.

What do your parents do for a living?

They're tailors.

Interesting.

In Algiers?

Yes.

Give me their address.

Agreed.

You start tomorrow.

Very well.

Colonized people are portrayed

as suffering arrested development,

impervious to reason,

incapable of managing

their own affairs,

requiring permanent supervision.

The history of colonized peoples

is transformed

into meaningless agitation,

and as a result, it seems

as if for these peoples,

humanity began with the arrival

of these valiant colonists.

What are you doing?

These are notes

on the colonial situation.

Here, I perceive it differently

than in the West Indies.

Life in Algeria

makes it appear different to me.

It's late.

Come to bed.

Coming.

I'd like to have a word with him.

Doctor?

I found him this morning

when I arrived.

He says it's not his fault.

It's not his fault.

Behavioral disorder.

Verbal stereotyping.

He must have suffered violent trauma.

Do we know who brought him in?

Put him under observation.

No signs of psychosis

or schizophrenia but

I'm leaning toward recent trauma.

Maybe temporary.

He may have been involved

in an attack.

That's the authorities' vocabulary.

The Germans also

called them t*rrorists.

We called them resistance fighters.

That's true.

If only we were aware

that we're occupying Algeria.

But no.

For us, it's France.

Making the settler realize

that he, too, is alienated -

and that one cannot be healed

without the other -

that's the challenge.

Keep an eye on him.

I'll let you finish

analyzing this file,

get back to me later.

Very well, Doctor.

Do you know Armstrong?

"Let my people go".

A song of liberation.

Jazz,

a music of revolt from North America.

You must have an opinion

on what's happening.

The attacks against the French army.

Do you think the Algerian people

will rise up?

I don't do politics, Mrs. Fanon,

but it's normal to rebel

when you're oppressed.

That's what your husband says.

He's been unleashed for a long time.

And we're running to keep up.

Do you know ra music?

No.

I can lend you some records.

With pleasure.

My wife Josie. Jacques Azoulay.

Hello, madam.

Hello. Nice to meet you.

Welcome, Mr. Azoulay.

No, Jacques. Call me Jacques.

You can say she's pretty,

I don't mind.

Thank you for the lovely meal.

You're welcome, it was my pleasure.

There's so much choice

at Blida market.

Don't you have a maid?

Emilio already looks after us.

Go back to the buffet,

I have something to show you.

Help yourself.

There are fritters, skewers.

And you absolutely must try this.

It's a Caribbean specialty.

Back home, we have lots of crabs.

The touloulou, the mantou

and the terrible sand fiddler.

Tradition has it that at Easter,

children hunt them.

An initiation rite.

I was content with my bar mitzvah.

Excuse me.

Yes, of course.

Go ahead, gentlemen, eat.

Excuse me.

Where's the bathroom, please?

REFLECTIONS ON THE JEWISH QUESTION

The first thing I look at

in someone's home

is their library.

Go ahead.

Black Skin, White Masks.

That's what happens

to a rejected thesis.

Why?

Too unconventional.

I had to write a second one

to convince them

I could fall in line.

But here, I'm a psychiatrist,

not a writer.

Return to My Native Land

by Aim Csaire.

My literature teacher

at Schlcher High School.

He opened the way for me,

even if I don't entirely

share his choices.

Reflections on the Jewish question.

Jean-Paul Sartre.

That's all Sartre.

The first time I felt Jewish

was in 1940,

when Vichy banned us from school.

It's the other's gaze that makes

the Jew, the Black, the madman.

There you are, both of you.

I was wondering where you'd gone.

A typical case,

ex-philosopher turned psychiatrist.

Don't be too long,

our guests have to leave.

Tosquelles' essential idea

is that psychiatrists must change

how they view patients.

Treat them as human beings,

listen to them, then integrate them

into a community.

How do you want to change things

in Algeria?

Here, like anywhere else.

Come on, our Algerian friends

have a curfew to comply with.

Doctor?

Quick, the soldiers.

Ahmed.

Stop.

What right do you have to take him?

This patient is my responsibility.

So you're the defender of the Arabs?

I hear you let them play football.

Dr Fanon, head of department.

We need to question

him, counter-terrorism.

- I doubt he can tell you anything.

- That's for me to decide.

Without authorization,

you don't enter my ward.

Right.

Dr Fanon.

Hocine.

Hocine.

I assume you know this sergeant.

I'm listening.

Hocine.

I was asked to find a place

to hide our wounded,

and Blida Hospital is a solution.

It's because they're being treated

by you that I stayed, doctor.

You know I hate being presented

with a fait accompli.

Who is this "they"?

I have to see him tomorrow.

Good timing, I need some fresh air,

it's stifling in here.

You must be careful, Doctor.

Very careful.

And your wife, isn't that risky?

She's no different from me,

she wants to see your country.

We can't blame a young couple

for spending a day in the mountains.

Be careful, if you defend Algerians,

they'll build a case against you.

How did they know he was in my ward?

Anyone at the hospital

could have sold him out.

The director, I think

he's treating Sergeant Rolland.

Sergeant, at his age?

He's been in the army

a long time, no?

He's known

for his intense interrogations.

In your jargon,

you'd call him a sociopath,

a loudmouth, impulsive,

with a total lack of empathy.

And ruthless if you resist him.

One thing's certain,

avoid him at all costs.

He probably has psychopathic traits,

but let's not jump to conclusions.

I see you're working

on your psychiatric semiology,

that's good.

That's him.

This is Ramdane.

Welcome.

I'm not presumptuous enough to think

the Algerian revolution needs me,

but if I can be useful...

Your reputation has spread

beyond the hospital walls.

You can't live here as you please.

You have no right to plow your land.

You're on your land,

but you can't live there

as you see fit.

You can't visit your families.

You have no right to farm your land.

Yes.

They're starving us.

A settler's vote

is worth seven of ours.

And you, and you, and you...

you're worth seven times less

than a Frenchman.

That's how they control our future.

They exploit us

to seize all our wealth.

That's why they're here.

For the enrichment of France.

Tell me, you?

Are they better than you?

No.

Tell me, are their children

better than yours?

No.

They send your children to school

to teach them

about France's greatness.

Our history doesn't exist.

There's nothing about our traditions.

Fear.

Fear.

Fear won't get us anywhere.

If we rise up,

their weapons can't stop us.

We must decide for ourselves

what's good for us.

This is our Algeria.

It belongs to us.

Long live Algeria!

There was this young girl,

I felt such hostility in her eyes.

If she could have,

she'd have put me on that boat.

She's not angry with you, ma'am,

it's the settlers and their contempt.

Back home in Martinique,

we were taught to be ashamed

of being Black, so much so

that we look at

each other with mistrust,

unable to act together.

But here, it's different.

Doctor, watch out.

You okay?

You okay?

Did you do this?

Good evening, gentlemen.

Your animal must have escaped and...

Hey, shut up.

So it's my fault

if my animal is dead,

lying on the road.

Who gave you this car?

Don't see many blacks

driving around here.

That's my husband.

Dr. Fanon.

I'm a psychiatrist at Blida Hospital.

Listen, I'll compensate you.

- How much do you want?

- 40,000 francs.

40,000 francs?

40,000 francs.

I don't have it on me,

I can write you an IOU,

and pay you tomorrow if you want.

Blacks aren't trustworthy people.

So, you know what we're gonna do?

You're gonna leave me your car,

and walk back.

That's way, way too much

for your sheep.

You know that full well.

Aren't you forgetting something?

Frantz?

It wasn't them who neutralized me

with their weapons,

I thought of you.

I don't want anything

to happen to this kid.

We'll hold on, Frantz.

What's happening here is unbearable.

That girl from the village is right.

You complained about those

West Indians who want to

stay French despite the humiliation.

There's finally a chance

for change here,

we can't run away.

Remember you told me

about Robert's time,

when they tried to starve

the people in Martinique?

People replanted vegetables

to avoid starving.

You're right.

That's the way forward.

In the colonies,

the colonized only speaks

to policemen or soldiers.

The colonized town or native town,

the medina, is a disreputable place,

full of disreputable people.

The colonial world

is a world cut in two.

The borders

are marked by barracks

and police stations.

Wait. Slower.

Sorry.

You understand why this machine

drives me crazy?

The colonized person

looks at the settler's town

with lust,

with a look of envy,

dreams of possession,

sitting at the settler's table,

sleeping in the settler's bed,

with his wife if possible.

The colonized is envious,

and the settler knows it,

noting bitterly, but always on guard,

that they want to take our place.

TO SIT AT THE COLONIST'S TABLE,

SLEEP IN THE COLONIST'S BED,

WITH HIS WIFE IF POSSIBLE

Good morning, Doctor.

Remember to get more beds

for the Algerian ward.

We need to order seeds

for the Creole garden.

We'll plant our vegetables ourselves,

with the patients.

Josie's idea.

Next time we go to the village,

maybe we'll have something

to offer them.

Why not a caf?

For the patients?

It would save you drinking

coffee with the others...

with the other idiots.

Moorish caf, another colonial term.

How do you say it in Arabic?

But the director...

He does all he can to make our lives

difficult,

let's stop going through him.

You okay?

Good morning, sir.

How are you?

Ma'am.

She's Ahmed's mother.

We don't know where your son is,

Mrs. Messaoui.

She says it's not possible,

he's a good boy, a kind boy.

What did they do to him?

What should I tell him?

Tell him I've filed

several official requests

to get my patient back,

and I won't give up.

I won't let them go.

Hello. Good morning, sir. Dr. Fanon.

I'm calling for news

about my patient,

Ahmed Messaoui.

Yes.

He was taken by a Sergeant Rolland.

Yes, he lives in Algiers.

1932, yes.

Very well. Sir,

I'll let you call me back.

Yes, I await your call,

sir. Thank you.

I await your proposals

so your culture

can break free

from the one they imposed on you,

so you can feel at home.

Gentlemen...

Salah.

Animals don't let themselves

be pushed around.

I am a lion, I am a lion!

It's okay.

I have a comment, Doctor.

We have no place to pray.

We need a room.

Agreed.

No problem.

Take charge,

and I'll handle the permits.

Here, there's enough space

for a prayer room, even a mosque.

But it's up to you to do it.

We could change the decor,

for example,

add new colors,

make it cheerful, so we feel good.

We could do craft workshops,

fix bikes, start a jazz club.

Ahmed, we could dance.

You like dancing. Look.

We could dance.

Start a film club, screen movies.

No?

I'm talking about

doing things together,

like football, for example,

manual activities.

I suggested a newspaper,

and I'm waiting for your suggestions.

Doctor, God bless you.

When do I get out?

My family is waiting for me.

My mother's about to come get me.

God bless you, doctor.

When will I get out?

Aren't you happy with us?

We're like one big family,

everything's fine.

Ben Abdellah, what are you saying?

Do you hear what he's saying?

He's making it up.

No, no, stop.

Your parents died long ago.

You insult my parents, son of a dog!

The meeting is over! It's over!

Blowing up the colonial world

is now an image of action

that is very clear,

very understandable,

and can be taken up

by each individual

constituting the colonized people.

To destroy the colonial world

is nothing more or less

than abolishing a zone,

burying it deep underground

or expelling it from the territory.

Frantz, now.

Come on. Come on.

Well?

Congratulations, it's a boy.

- Can I see him?

- Wait here, I'll wash him.

MATERNITY WARD

It's a boy. It's a boy. It's a boy.

Congratulations.

Sorry to disturb you, Doctor.

What's happening?

We have an emergency.

Let's go.

What will you call him?

Olivier.

Son of Frantz, grandson of?

Meaning?

He was born on Algerian soil,

here we say...

We can go back

several generations that way.

Nobody saw you?

What happened to him?

Shot while escaping, doctor.

What do you mean,

shot while escaping?

They make the prisoner think

he's going to get wood,

let him walk away and sh**t him down.

Like it was an escape.

That way, they're covered

by the hierarchy.

Go get Azoulay.

Tell him to prep the operating room.

I got him. I got him.

There.

Pacification.

Is he up to date on tetanus?

I don't know.

We'll give him one,

but he leaves tomorrow.

No problem, Doctor. I'll handle it.

Hold him.

I'll sign the admission form.

Put whatever name you want.

If Darmain does an inspection,

we're covered legally.

It'll be okay. It's okay.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

You look like you've been

doing this all your life.

I had a crash course.

1948, in Israel.

Breathe.

Why didn't you stay in Israel?

Because of my parents.

Yours?

I live in the present.

Just because I left them

doesn't mean they're not still in me.

I have to go, Josie needs me.

The Chra mountains

are full of rebels,

if they all come for treatment,

it'll be complicated.

We'll manage

or I won't be able to face myself.

Before you leave,

clean everything up.

Don't leave anything

lying around. Nothing.

Agreed.

Good luck. You'll be fine.

Thank you, Doctor.

Dear Doctor, come to my arms.

Congratulations, Doctor.

Hello.

Congratulations.

Thank you.

Thanks.

Thanks.

Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you all.

Thank you very much.

It's tradition, doctor.

When a child is born, we eat tamina.

Plus, this is the best,

my wife made it.

Here, doctor.

Well, thank you for everything.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

A first child calls for celebration.

After the w*r, I had a daughter,

Mireille.

She's in France with her mother.

I've never met her.

Did you see that, Doctor? Look.

This time, they're taking part.

Behind their smiles,

there's violence.

Let's not forget that.

Welcome to Porot Hospital,

the old world of psychiatry.

Your coat.

- Thanks.

- What's that?

My lunch.

Okay.

Write down everything he says.

Okay?

- Can I speak?

- Yes, everyone can speak.

But if you say something dumb,

he'll catch you out.

I learned that the hard way.

Sometimes he's hard to follow,

but what counts is progress.

His mantra is: figure it out.

How did you end up here?

Dr. Fanon asked me to join you.

You must be smart, then.

Yes. Yes, I'm brilliant.

Quite brilliant, actually.

He's a patient too.

It's incredible.

What about the rest of the hospital?

The rest of the hospital

tolerates us.

Well, not really.

Actually, they really hate us.

Where are you from?

Algiers.

Me too.

From a Jewish family.

- Yeah, me too.

- Pretty conservative.

No, it was fine.

That's good.

Go ahead.

Thank you, thank you, thank you...

Thank you all. Thank you all.

And thank you to Dr Azoulay

for the invitation.

A society that drives its members

to desperate solutions,

to violence, is not viable.

It's a society that must be replaced.

The duty of the citizen,

yours, mine, is to speak out.

The colonized people are presented as

having arrested development,

incapable of managing their

own affairs, without history.

The colonizer's language,

when speaking of the colonized,

is a zoological language.

They allude to stench,

to swarming, to crawling,

to gesticulations.

To find the right word, the colonizer

constantly refers to the bestiary.

The first thing

the native learns to do

is to stay in his place.

That's why the native's dreams

are muscular dreams,

dreams of action, aggressive dreams.

I dream I jump, swim, run, climb.

I dream I burst out laughing,

that I cross the river in one stride,

that I'm being chased

by a pack of cars

that never catch me.

With his aggression built up

in his muscles,

the colonized will first

turn against his own.

- Dirty n*gg*r!

- Dirty n*gg*r!

Algeria is French!

Algeria is French!

Algeria is French!

Sit down.

Sit down.

Traitor!

You're going to sit down

and listen to what he has to say.

Sit down.

Sit down!

FEAR

It's true. It's true.

We all want the same thing.

But you put religion

above everything,

you drink alcohol

and want proletarian revolution.

You, the Kabyle,

want your language respected.

The people should decide,

not colonels who only want power.

They can't decide everything

from Tunis.

You're the leaders.

You're the leaders.

Ramdane, what do you propose?

Clean elections,

democratic ones.

I passed a motion

to stop executions and t*rture.

Let's not stoop to doing

within our own ranks

what we criticize the French

for doing.

Patrol.

Where's Ramdane?

Let them in.

Come on, come on, come on.

Faced with the colonial arrangement,

the colonized person lives

in permanent tension.

The colonist's world is a hostile one

that he rejects,

yet at the same time, it's enviable.

The colonized always dreams

of taking the colonist's place.

The colonized is always on edge,

struggling to read

the colonial world's many signs,

never knowing

if he's crossed the line.

In the world arranged

by the colonialist,

the colonized is

always presumed guilty.

Yet, deep within himself,

the colonized recognizes

no authority.

He is dominated,

but not domesticated.

In his muscles,

the colonized is always waiting,

it wouldn't be right

to say he is anxious,

that he is terrorized,

in fact, he is always ready

to abandon his role as prey

to take on that of hunter.

It is not possible to enslave men

without logically making

them inferior in every way,

and racism is only the emotional,

affective explanation,

sometimes the intellectual one

as well, of this inferiorization.

In fact,

racism follows a flawless logic.

A country that lives,

draws its substance

from exploiting different peoples,

makes its peoples inferior.

Racism is not a constant

of the human mind,

it is a disposition inscribed

in a determined system.

Is he sleeping?

Yes.

Sometimes I think he deserves

a normal childhood.

Away from all this.

Leaving would prove them right.

Go ahead, come in.

Come in.

- Good evening.

- Good evening.

Come on, quickly.

Good evening.

Will you eat with us?

Thank you, ma'am.

Are you staying?

I'd rather go home.

Thank you, Mrs. Fanon.

I'll alert our men in Tunis.

Agreed.

I heard what happened at the village.

Thanks for the shirt.

You're welcome.

What about your colleagues?

Don't worry, they don't visit me.

It all started in 1945, in Stif.

As soon as we demanded

freedom, citizenship,

they opened fire.

I was secretary

of the Chteaudun commune,

a good little civil servant,

nice and quiet.

When I left my parents in 1943

to go fight,

it was to defend freedom,

the Republic.

I believed in de Gaulle.

Then I realized,

just before the victory parade,

when the sergeant

ordered me

to hand over my uniform

to a young resistance fighter,

because he was white.

In Martinique, we've been

French citizens since 1848,

we were never recognized

as w*r veterans.

I fought for the peasants of Creuse,

but I'll always be

worth less than him.

But my case is nothing.

We need people like you

to carry our message.

Would you write for El Moujahid,

our newspaper?

With pleasure.

You're one of us now.

And our fight won't stop

after the French leave,

a different kind of w*r awaits us.

After Algerian independence,

comes the struggle for power

or for democracy.

Every since I was born,

I've seen my father die,

I've seen my brothers leave

and children cry.

My mother suffered so much

she's in her grave

and laughed at bombs

and laughed at worms.

That's Boris Vian.

Do you know where my cigarettes are, darling?

On the table.

I've never seen him like this.

He rarely opens up.

See you soon.

Thank you very much.

- Come in.

- Captain.

Sergeant Rolland.

Did he talk?

How could you miss Ramdane?

Our intel was solid.

This city,

it's my city.

Sergeant,

I have a better idea.

We'll do things differently.

The information

is in the medical file.

Fanon,

I was telling Captain Ferrre

that you're the most original

psychiatrist in the hospital,

a special case.

Sergeant Rolland had

a violent episode with his wife,

I'm sure you can do something.

You've treated soldiers

with severe depression before.

Why don't you take him on?

If I'm entrusting him to you,

it's because I believe

in your methods.

Can we talk?

You don't become a threat

to your wife or son

without suffering trauma

or shock, Captain.

You need to tell me

what's happening, Doctor.

I'm not in his head.

No, but you give him orders,

so you know if he's suffered

or committed inhuman acts.

He won't say anything.

Captain.

In my ward, my patients are free.

Hello, Sergeant.

Hello.

Could I have a normal doctor?

As you wish.

My door remains open.

Where are the barracks?

They say this ward is

a rebel hideout. Are you aware?

People say many things.

I'm just doing my job.

I follow orders too.

They say it's eating at me,

I take it too much to heart.

Hey, hey.

You know what I do to t*rrorists,

to France-haters?

Do the doors stay open here?

Is this a house of drafts?

You're not gonna follow me

like a lapdog?

Get to work. Get lost.

BLOWING UP THE COLONIAL WORLD IS NOW

A VERY CLEAR PICTURE OF ACTION

How are you, my brother Hocine?

God bless you.

We call her sweet potato.

She grew up among the others.

Where are the wounded?

There.

They took refuge here

after the attacks.

Salim, your father was a great man.

May God keep him.

How can you work with a Frenchman?

She needs treatment too.

Your diagnosis?

How do you survive a m*ssacre?

I know what you're going to tell me,

revolt.

Is there any other therapy?

Military roadblock.

Operation in progress.

We'll have to sleep here tonight.

Don't you ever sleep, Doctor?

I'm afraid I'll forget.

Remind me what this music is called.

It's chabi.

"Cha" means the people.

What do you call

women who whisper

in the ears of the sick?

Healers?

In Martinique,

we call them frotteuses.

They rub your body with herbs

and drive away illness.

Could you introduce me to one?

The one who told Josie

she was pregnant.

Hello, Doctor.

It's for a court assessment.

Sit down.

Lamine?

Lamine?

What happened?

Did you hear what happened

at the village?

My father, they shot him down.

God bless him.

The French swore to k*ll us all,

one after the other.

Has a single Frenchman been arrested

for all these m*rder*d Algerians?

None of them were tried.

I wanted to go up to the mountains,

but I'm too small.

So my friend and I decided to act.

But you're a child,

and these are adult matters.

But they k*ll children too.

Did you know him?

He was a friend,

we played football together.

Had he done something to you?

No.

He was a true friend.

That's it. Do what you want.

I'll send you my report.

Recruiting children,

what a bunch of savages.

I won't let you go.

How are you?

Are you sleeping better?

The nurses told me

your sleep was very restless.

Want to talk about it?

Good.

When do I go back to the field?

It will come. For now,

you're most useful to me there.

What do you think of this Fanon?

A good doctor.

As a man.

He's somebody,

but he's against us.

This girl will only talk to you.

I have nothing to hide from my wife.

Very well. Come with me.

When you get to the bar,

a man will search you.

Your heart will beat very fast.

What will you think?

They're pigs,

they have no right to search me.

No.

Think of something

that makes you smile.

A childhood memory.

Do you hate the French?

Those who t*rture and k*ll,

yes.

Why did you join the cause?

My father.

If the soldiers provoke you,

what do you do?

Good morning, miss.

What do you do for a living?

What do you do for a living?

I'm studying.

- Nursing studies.

- Where are you going?

To the hospital?

That's very good.

Aren't you afraid

of the consequences?

Are you ready to die?

Give this to Ramdane.

We need to get him out.

He'll last longer.

Very well.

He refuses to talk to me.

You know the army, Fanon,

they're taught

to keep their mouths shut.

Don't tell me you're giving up,

that's not like you.

It is men like him -

tormented by the Western discourse

of superiority -

that give my work its full meaning.

Meaning what?

The alienated.

Stop with your theories,

you're confusing medicine

with revolution.

What treatment did you prescribe?

Chlorpromazine,

increasingly higher doses

to try to regulate his

mood swings and sleep.

Not being involved in all this.

They destroyed him.

I'll change the medication.

My diagnosis will be more precise

when I know him better.

A hypnosis session

might be beneficial.

SUMMONS

EXCEPTIONAL SERVICE

I learned more with you

- than with...

- Stop whining.

You don't need me anymore.

Psychiatry has gained a good fighter.

Where will you do your service?

At Maillot,

at Algiers military hospital.

You can imagine how eager I am

to serve the French army.

I thought about deserting,

but I can't do that to my parents.

I understand.

Well...

Go ahead.

Thank you.

Doctor?

Sorry.

Do we have any penicillin left?

No, we're out of stock.

I'll arrange with a colleague

to get some.

Thanks.

Yes. Come on, let's go up.

Don't cry, sweetheart.

Are we going with Mommy?

Come on.

Wait.

What are you doing here?

Did you know about the caf?

Who did this?

I'm sure you know.

Do you know how many Europeans

have died?

How many Algerians have died

since colonization began?

k*lling is my job.

I thought yours was saving lives.

You have no right

to enter my home. Get out.

Didn't you tell me

"when I feel like talking"?

Here, I'm not a doctor,

I'm a husband and father, like you.

Even if I disagree with you,

you're not my enemy.

You're no better than me.

If you want to talk,

it's tomorrow in my office.

Now get out of my house.

Get out of my house.

Easy there, boy.

Right now, I'm allergic to people.

No one would blame me

for putting a b*llet in your head.

Very well.

Let's not get worked up.

See you tomorrow.

I have nothing to hide from my wife.

Did you sleep badly, Doctor?

Too much work.

Are you feeling better?

No point talking, my life is ruined.

I've always served my country,

never refused a mission.

The military are always

the last ramparts.

I have nothing more to say.

What you're doing to them,

it's destroying you from within.

If you agree to talk about it,

you might feel better.

I'm scared.

Classified, doctor.

He took longer to fall asleep.

He must sense

the tension we're feeling.

Yes, even children do.

I'm scared for Olivier too.

If we leave, we're cowards.

But if we stay, we're targets.

Let's continue.

Among the characteristics

of the Algerian people,

as established by colonialism,

we note their appalling criminality.

Before 1954,

magistrates, police officers, lawyers

unanimously agreed

that Algerian criminality

was problematic.

"He's a born criminal," they said.

A theory was developed

and scientific proof provided.

The North African is a born criminal,

his predatory instinct is well-known

and his massive aggression

is visible to the naked eye.

The Algerian's criminality,

the violence

of his murders is not the result

of nervous system organization

or character traits,

as Professor Porot

claims to have proven,

but the direct product

of the colonial situation.

The French are in the plains,

with the army, the tanks.

On the mountain,

there are only Algerians.

Up there, the sky

and its promises of the afterlife.

Down below,

the French with

their concrete promises

of imprisonment,

beatings, executions.

I'll sign your discharge papers.

Keep taking your medication.

Good luck.

Go on, you're next.

Good riddance.

I never understood

why you helped him.

Hocine! Hocine! Hocine!

So inevitably, we hit a wall,

we discover the core

of this self-hatred

that defines conflicts

in segregated societies.

What got into you?

He k*lled my father.

- Why are you treating him?

- I don't choose my patients.

Ramdane is waiting for you in Tunis.

I'm continuing my work here.

I suppose you let him go.

Doctor?

Doctor?

Go get the files

of those we smuggled out.

Hocine.

Warn Alice.

Are you pleased with yourself?

See where your ideas lead us?

You should be committed.

The files.

Your coats.

It's been an honor working with you.

Those in the villages and cities

will know who to talk to.

Take care of yourself.

...my brother.

You too, Alice.

Where's Hocine?

Arrest me,

I'm the one responsible.

You'll look good in my report,

supporting t*rrorists.

Go.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Doctor?

Well?

Doctor? Doctor?

Rolland, get them in the truck.

Rolland, get them in the truck.

That's an order!

Rolland.

Sergeant Rolland,

you're under arrest.

Take him away.

Take him away!

"Minister,

"for nearly three years,

"I have devoted myself entirely

to this country

"and the people who live here.

"I spared neither

effort nor enthusiasm.

"But what are enthusiasm

and concern for humanity

"if daily reality is woven from lies,

"cowardice, and contempt for man?

"Madness is one way for

man to lose his freedom.

"And I can say that,

placed at this crossroads,

"it was with horror that I measured

"the extent of alienation

among this country's people.

"Algeria's status?

"Systematic dehumanization.

"For many months,

"my conscience has been torn

by unforgivable debates,

"and their conclusion

is not to despair of man,

"that is to say, of myself.

"For all these reasons,

I have the honor, Minister,

"to ask you to kindly

accept my resignation

"and end my mission in Algeria."

Did you see?

Come.

My friend.

Good to see you.

Likewise.

Hello.

Hello.

Please, come in.

How was the trip

in that old crate from the stone age?

A bit shaken up.

Olivier wasn't even scared.

Look. Want to go explore?

How are you doing otherwise?

It's complicated.

You can continue your work,

you have a position

at Tunis hospital,

and... I've submitted your name

to become ambassador

of the Algerian Republic's

provisional government in Ghana.

I'll keep you posted.

Thank you.

Ambassador.

Go ahead, settle in.

I'll see you when I get back.

The colonels want to see me.

Something's happening.

I'm taking Malek with me.

See you soon.

FARIDA FALEZ

We must not...

We must not... No.

We must not only fight

for our people's freedom...

We must not only fight

for our people's freedom,

we must also,

throughout this struggle,

teach our people and ourselves the...

Frantz?

You okay?

Can you do the ending again? Please.

We must also,

throughout this struggle,

teach this people and ourselves

the dimension of man.

We must retrace the paths of history.

Hello?

Yes, it's me.

Thank you.

It's Ramdane, they got him too.

But why?

By eliminating him, the colonels

risk making him a martyr.

Yes, but he was a democrat,

close to the people.

They even gave me the title

for the article:

Abane Ramdane died

in the field of honor.

Obviously.

And you're going to follow them?

Frantz,

are you going to follow them?

Democratia.

My blood is like this apple,

rotten.

What title did you choose in the end?

The Wretched of the Earth.

I don't think

I'll ever see independence.

THE WRETCHED OF THE EARTH

Come.

I died on December 6, 1961,

from acute leukemia,

one year before

Algeria's independence.

At my request,

I was secretly buried in Algeria,

near the Tunisian border.

My wife, Josie,

continued to live in Algeria.

And 28 years later,

she took her own life.

Laura Haydon