On demande une brute (1934)

[bunniefuu]

BRUTE WANTED

That won't do!

Get your things and go.

For Krotov the Tartar,

we need a man.

You gentlemen think

I'm a little boy?

There.

- No one else?

- Nope.

What are we gonna do?

The big fight's a week away.

The hall's booked.

A small hall in the suburbs,

but paid for with my own money.

Tickets have been sold.

Krotov's in great shape.

But no opponent.

How about we ask Gino?

Yeah, maybe.

No, he's been a cop

for a year now.

You need a real hulk.

Just someone real nasty!

If we don't find him by Friday,

the company goes under.

And going under

isn't something I enjoy.

All is not lost, boss.

I have contacts.

Tony ... “Titou Trel” ...

the heavyweight champ.

We can get him.

He's my brother-in-law.

I don't want him.

We need someone new.

The public wants fresh blood.

- I've got an idea.

- You're full of ideas!

An ad in the paper.

Everyone will see it.

They'll laugh us out of town.

We won't mention wrestling.

How do we do that?

It'll work fine.

We'll get someone great.

All right. I'll put...

“Major company...

seeks young man...

specializing in violent roles.

94 rue Volney.”

That way it's vague.

Those in the know will understand.

We need a fighter.

A real nasty onel!

The first one

Wwho tries to leave...

gets it.

That's no good, honey!

It has to be louder.

It has to come from here.

My dear friend,

please show him.

The first one who gets it ...

I mean, the first one to leave gets it.

Here?

You're dead. Fall down.

Go on, diel

Hello, Mr. de Lobeyle.

Yes. My husband?

Right here.

He's rehearsing with Mr. Mérandol.

One moment.

Your manager.

Hello, Mr. de Lobeyle.

Yes, he's here.

He's just about dead.

What?

He's not playing

the part on tour”?

I see.

Good-bye. Thanks.

There's no point rehearsing now.

You heard ...

Don't take it badly.

Managers don't understand.

They're always doing

stuff like this.

Sorry.

I'll come say good-bye

before I leave.

Happy now?

Get up and help me

set the table.

And bring me the fish to feed.

So have you reconsidered

your acting career?

You and your ambitions.

Honestly!

I should have made you

keep up the clarinet.

Where's the ladle?

Imagine spending my life

with a man like you!

My poor mother warned me,

believe you me.

Behave yourself

while we're eating.

Let me read my paper

in peace.

Why are you getting up?

Idiot!

- Sardines?

- Yes, darling.

Listen to this!

This ad might interest you.

“Major company

seeks young man

specializing in violent roles.

Lucrative contract.

92 rue Volney.”

Go get me some pictures.

We'll write to them.

Or rather... I'll write.

That'd be more sensible,

and better for you.

What's this one called?

“Roustabat.”

That'd look good on the poster.

Not bad.

Have you seen him?

No, but he's coming today.

- Did our ad get a turnout?

- There are a dozen guys out there.

Send the first one in.

The first gentleman.

Come here.

Closerl

- You wrestle?

- So it seems.

- You'd better be surel

- We need someone solid.

You kidding?

- Know who your opponent is?

- Doesn't matter.

Krotov the Tartar.

Sorry. I have a family.

Excuse me.

- Well?

- It's to fight Krotov the Tartar!

- I'll take him on.

- You know him?

Krotov? Count me out.

That's the ticket

if you don't want trouble!

Now we'll be first.

Smarten yourself up.

Your clothes are a mess.

Practice

what you're going to say.

Well, Mr...

Tougher.

Much tougher than that!

Like this.

“| want a proper contract.

And no dirty tricks!”

He'll never hire you.

Imagine spending my life

with this halfwit!

You can just manage

on your own!

- What do you want?

- I'm Mr. Roustabat.

Ah, come in!

Doesn't look very tough.

Sit down.

Sit down!

I'm a busy man!

Does Krotov the Tartar

interest you?

Krotov the Tartar?

Oh, yes. Three acts.

Well, three rounds.

He's a tough one.

- I want a real show!I

- Naturally.

You know the terms?

I want a proper contract.

I only offer

proper contracts.

And no dirty tricks.

Mr. Roustabat,

please don't go.

You overdid it a bit.

Forgive me.

I'm a bit nervous.

Oh, it's nothing.

All done.

My dear boy,

we have an agreement.

Authorized debit ...

5, 000 francs.

A mere formality.

Now, my dear friend,

I'll need your signature.

Write your name there.

Look at your hat!

How did you end up

such a mess?

What's that?

Did you read this?

- No, but I signed it.

You've signed over 5,000.

And you're now a wrestler.

- A wrestler?

You want

to reduce me to poverty?

Five thousand francs!

Either you fight

or we lose all our furniture!

So, my friend,

you're going to fight,

you hear?

Come in.

Hello.

I have some good news.

You're back in.

We leave on tour tonight.

No more theater.

He's a wrestler now.

A wrestler?

Look,

Mr. de Lobeyle sent me.

The actor who replaced you

was hit by a car.

The taxi's at the hospital.

No, I mean ...

Yes, that's right.

- I'd love to.

- Impossible!

If he doesn't fight,

I lose 5,000 francs, so he'll fight!

So that's it?

Very well.

What time is your fight?

8:30.

I see. Too bad.

8:30?

Leave it to me.

Get in there.

No holds barred.

Grab him by the nose!

Understand?

His arms ... understand?

Listen.

When the gong sounds,

you... his arms ...

You got it!

Ladies and gentlemen...

a wrestling match

in three six-minute rounds.

On my right...

Krotov the Tartar,

champion of La Neva.

On my left...

Roustabat the Hulk,

weighing 143 pounds!

Up you get!

This is an international

qualifying match

for the inter league

championships!

Krotov!

You... gong...

hit hard... bang bang!

You not understand?

Boom! Boom!

You sit!

Understand?

- Go to hell.

Don't worry.

I'll handile it.

Well, I never!