Dragnet Night (1931) - full transcript
DRAGNET NIGHT
This is a song a sailor, one night
Hummed as his ship left the port
It was just one line
Full of hope
A memory of sweet hours
And murmured good-byes
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When I leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
When the cruel sea
Threatens him with peril
The laughing sailor sings into the wind
His heart tells him
He'll pass safely through the storm
He keeps singing
Despite the sea spray
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When I leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
But the beauty for whom the sailor sings
Has other lovers sailing the seas
No matter!
Each believes they're her only love
Exile is easier to bear
When they can sing
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When I leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
It's not every day the ship is in layup.
-Hip, hip...
-Hooray!
Where will you go, Yves?
Me? Saint-Malo.
-And you, Lionel?
-Quimper.
What about you, Georget?
Paris!
Let's hear it for Paris! Hip, hip...
Hooray!
Paris!
Get out of here! It's a raid.
Save me!
-What are you doing here, sailor?
-Getting some fresh air.
And her?
My wife.
Got any ID?
-Hurry up or I'll haul you both in!
-Hold on.
Here.
-Enough!
-Get moving.
The raid is over.
What a pity!
Thanks.
-What's your name?
-Mariette.
Well, good-bye.
Leaving already? Nothing for me?
And you were so nice!
Let's see your eyes.
You don't look the type.
Sorry.
I can still walk you home.
-You live here?
-Yes.
-Someone's waiting for you?
-Yes.
-What's his name?
-Bobby.
-He supports you?
-No.
-You bring home the bacon?
-Naturally.
You disgust me. Good night.
Why don't you come up
and say hello to Bobby?
-What?
-Unless you're afraid.
Me, afraid? When pigs fly.
Bobby, we have a visitor.
Don't be afraid.
This is Bobby.
Come here, Bobby.
Bobby, my baby!
Isn't he sweet?
You certainly fooled me, miss.
So I'm “miss” now?
Forgive me, I was informal
too quickly with you.
Thank you.
-What do you do?
-I work.
-In what?
-Guess.
Hold on.
You're... a seamstress.
No.
-Ticket-taker on the tram?
-No.
-Usher?
-No.
Operator? Typist?
-Midwife?
-No.
I'm an artiste.
-What?
-I sing at the Artistic Music Hall.
Hazy shadows in the night
That's all we are
Like beasts of burden
We move along silently
Braving the wind and cold
Rain soaks our shoulders
We offer pleasure, yet
It's not so much fun
When we walk the streets
Men ogle our curves
We murmur as they pass
Promises of love
Even with grumpy old gents
We must play our role
And call them “Cutie”
It's not so much fun
Our heartstrings are tugged
By romantic songs
We're all looking for love
With a capital “L”
We fall for a handsome guy
But if cash lacks at home
Our dear beloved leaves
It's not so much fun
-Thanks. Like it? Hold on.
-You were wonderful. Here.
-Hello, sir.
-Hello, madam.
Bravo!
Are you together?
Mr. Georget, Miss Dolly.
-Nice to meet you.
-Likewise.
Out! Let me change
and we'll go to the fair. Hurry up.
He's the champion. Here we go! Win a duck!
One franc a spin.
Try it, sir. One franc a spin.
-Number 7 wins.
-That's us! We won.
Here's your duck.
Time for a new spin. Win a duck!
Ladies and gentlemen,
who'll try their luck?
Now, ladies and gentlemen,
I'm honored to present
Cannon Man!
The world's strongest athlete.
He's never backed down from any challenge.
You can say that again! And again!
Victor San Grenelle!
His biography is featured
in all the sporting papers.
Victor is the best wrestler in the world.
Fair warning
to amateurs wishing
to wrestle Miss Patita:
It's not fake. Our matches are for real.
All you weaklings who want to show off,
it's time for you to leave!
It's not fake like in the movies!
We've nothing to hide.
Let's go. Those matches are a sham.
-Just a little longer.
-Come on.
Now I'm honored to introduce Charly Stick.
Charly Stick!
Charly Stick? Faker.
The great pugilist whose fame
has crossed every sea, lake, and river.
Charly Stick, standing before you,
is a former champion of France and Europe,
welterweight and all-category.
Charly Stick is ready
to take on any amateur
practicing boxing
with international rules.
International rules.
-We follow international rules.
-Who wants to fight Charly Stick?
Come on! Hurry!
-How about you, soldier?
-Soldier?
Too chicken, grunt?
What about you, sailor?
Toss them to me.
Get your tickets!
We have seats for every budget.
Seats start at two francs. Step right up.
Don't do it, darling.
Don't worry, sweetheart.
A sailor knows how to fight.
Go sit down.
See you later.
-You know how this works, right?
-Don't worry.
-You'll pull your punches, right?
-Pull my punches?
Pull your punches. These matches
aren't about getting beaten up.
Charly will let it go three rounds,
and in the third,
you go down for the count.
Are you kidding?
You'll get to pass around a hat.
You'll get 20, even 50 francs.
Fifty big ones!
-That's a lot for a sailor.
-No, thanks.
I'll give you the lowdown.
He's heavier than you
and he can put your lights out.
I don't care.
-You don't?
-Not at all.
-That's your final decision?
-Yes.
You're in for it.
-Listen, Charly.
-What?
The sailor refuses to play along.
Ladies and gentlemen, the main event!
The amateur on my left, 150 pounds.
Charly Stick, 155 pounds.
Ready?
One, two, three,
four, five, six,
seven, eight, nine.
Knockout!
Quiet, please! Quiet!
Quiet!
With your own eyes,
you saw it was a fair fight.
For the first time,
Charly has bit the dust!
The winner, this sailor,
will now pass a hat around.
...28, 29, 30!
30. 32.
Thirty-two francs and 50 centimes!
Let's live it up!
Waiter! Bring us some white wine
with some French fries.
-No.
-Yes.
If we'd never met
Never my heart
You can sing?
Not really. Just at sea,
on the ship with my buddies.
When you leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
If we'd have never met
I'd never have known love
Look.
Look, look.
He looks so unhappy. Poor old guy.
I hope you're not mad at me.
No.
It was a fair fight.
Do you know Mariette?
-Mariette?
-Yeah.
Come on, I'll introduce you.
-Just a second.
-Forget it.
Hey, it's on me.
Come meet Mariette.
Come meet Mariette.
What are you drinking? Sit down.
-I don't want to intrude.
-Come on, have a drink.
Take my glass. I'll share with my girl.
You're sweet together.
It hurts, doesn't it?
I'm used to it.
I'm getting old.
These last four years, I'm useless.
-Come on, don't be sad.
-You mustn't be sad.
I'll try to entertain you.
This is a song a sailor, one night
Hummed as his ship left the port
It was just one line
Full of hope
The memory of sweet hours
And murmured good-byes
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When you leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
When the cruel sea
Threatens him with peril
The laughing sailor sings into the wind
His heart tells him
He'll pass safely through the storm
He keeps singing
Despite the sea spray
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When you leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
But the beauty for whom the sailor sings
Has other lovers sailing the seas
No matter!
Each believes they're her only love
Exile is easier to bear
When they can sing
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When you leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
What a great day! Everybody sing!
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When you leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
Like that, Charly?
Hey!
The music is over.
Go clear the tables. Move it.
Where'd you learn to box?
Nowhere. Just fighting in the navy.
You're good, you know.
-If you wanted —
-I don't want him to!
In such situations,
women don't get to decide.
-You see?
-No.
If you wanted,
I could make you what I was.
Understand?
I was... a champion.
Don't laugh, buddy, I'm serious.
But it takes money.
Hold on.
I know where to find it!
I'll get the baron
interested in our project.
-Baron?
-Don't worry about it.
Tomorrow morning,
I'll give the baron his boxing lesson.
I know exactly how I'll do it.
The baron,
back when I was in shape, like you,
always bet on my fights
so I earned him money.
-Baron, you'll kill the flies!
-This is terrible.
It's fine.
Your left.
-Left?
-Yes.
Stop.
-Time for your lesson.
-My lesson.
Right. Left.
Stomach. Heart. Good!
-Your right.
-What?
-Right.
-Right?
This is my right.
I'm begging you, Baron,
give me a right to the chin.
-I'm afraid I'll hurt you.
-Go ahead.
-Here comes the right!
-What?
-It's about to fly.
-Good.
Here it goes!
-It never made it.
-Yet it went.
Deep breaths.
Nice and deep.
What will you have?
We're waiting for someone.
-Sir?
-Two coffees with milk.
Watch what you're doing!
It wasn't on purpose.
It wasn't? I hope not!
Now run along.
It's nothing. No, really.
We'll never come here again.
Now we'll box. Gloves up.
Good!
How's it going at the fairground, Charly?
Not so bad.
-I'm thinking of launching a boxer.
-Really?
Yes, I found one.
If you'll permit,
I'd be honored
to let you see him in action.
Good! You're in fine form this morning.
What weight is he?
Welterweight.
Is he good?
First-class.
How about that left?
You never saw it coming.
But I felt it land!
What if I took an interest
in your protégé?
-It'll cost you.
-How much?
Good lord, your left is a killer!
To start with,
we need to rent a training camp.
-In Paris, that costs about...
-How much?
About...
You're on fire this morning, Baron!
-About how much?
-About...
About? How much?
About 20,000.
How much did you say, 20,000?
Hold on, I'll write you a check.
-What if Charly doesn't come back?
-Then it didn't work.
I did it! The deal is sealed!
-It is?
-Take a look.
20,000 francs!
The baron was well and truly had!
I got him!
Waiter!
-What will you have?
-A quinquina.
One quinquina.
-I'll have a Pernod.
-Me too.
Wait, not for you. You're in training.
-He'll have mineral water.
-So it begins...
We'll have a quick drink,
then we'll go find a training camp.
I'm so happy.
Mariette, what's wrong?
-You're not very enthusiastic.
-I am.
-She's all choked up.
-Only natural!
We'll have a quick drink,
and then we'll go get Fred.
-Fred?
-He's a good guy.
We can't abandon him.
He'll be useful. You'll see.
-He can be your cornerman.
-Sounds good.
If you follow my advice...
in six months,
you'll be champion of France.
Hear me?
Champion of France!
FRENCH BOXING CHAMPIONSHIP
15 3-MINUTE ROUNDS
DEFENDING FRENCH CHAMPION
AGAINST
TONIGHT AT SALLE WAGRAM
-Who is this Georget guy?
-Some loser.
He beat Gregorio with
a below-the-belt blow in Lille,
and his fight
with Little Kildou was a draw.
-Nothing serious then.
-He's a joke. He won't last two rounds.
-Does your right hand hurt?
-I won't even need it.
Georget, you're up!
The preliminaries are over.
Hey, kid. How are you feeling?
I'm fine.
Of course you're fine!
You'll do great!
Sure, Mariette, watch that for me.
Landry, wrap it up in under 15 minutes!
We'll be waiting at the corner bar.
Ignore them.
-Come on, Mariette!
-I'd rather stay here.
Your boxer is quite good-looking.
We'll see how he looks when it's over.
-Still betting on Landry, Baron?
-Of course.
-If Georget wins, you'll owe me.
-There!
What are you doing, Stanislaus?
-Betting on Landry?
-Yes.
I applaud my protégé,
but put my money on the other.
I'm prudent.
National Championship Match.
Fifteen three-minute rounds.
Defending his title
as Welterweight French Champion,
Paul Landry,
weighing 146 pounds eight ounces,
against Battling Georget, challenger,
145 pounds 15 ounces.
Paul Landry!
Battling Georget!
Piece of cake, Landry!
Finish him quick
so we don't miss the last metro!
You know the rules.
No blows to the back of the neck.
Most of all, no holding.
Shake hands. May the best man win.
Georget, you're gonna get slaughtered!
Ready?
Sir, who's winning?
-The kid.
-Georget?
I don't know.
Sir, who's ahead?
The one who'll win.
Sir, please, I can't see.
I'm allowed to applaud
my protégé, aren't I?
I'll say it again — bravo!
Georget!
Get away from him, Landry!
Open your eyes, ref!
Hang in there, kid.
Keep it up, Georget. You'll get him.
You're doing great.
My friends, I believe we'll be
champion of France before midnight.
You're boxing well, kid.
-He hits hard, you know.
-What about you?
Twice, I thought he looked dazed.
When you nailed him with your right,
he almost fell.
Most importantly, don't get angry.
Stay calm.
Bring him down in the fifth.
He has a weak heart.
Aim for his heart.
Bring him down in the second round.
He has a weak heart.
Aim for his heart.
Ring it.
How lovely!
Maybe you didn't notice,
but he's a swarmer, like me.
It's our style.
Right! With power!
Keep your guard up, Landry!
Don't let him corner you.
Guard up! Keep him moving.
One, two, three,
four, five, six,
seven, eight, nine,
ten. Knockout!
The new French Welterweight Champion,
Battling Georget!
Georget, my boy,
what style!
You're hot?
You fought like an ace!
Georget!
Are you okay, darling?
What did I tell you?
We won't stop here.
He'll be champion of Europe!
He'll be champion of Europe, gentlemen.
Georget, what about Mariette?
Come on, let's go!
The baron has reserved
a table at the Monseigneur.
-Isn't that swell? I've never been.
-Bravo, Georget!
Come on.
What's wrong?
Don't you want to come?
Bravo, Georget!
You'd rather go home?
Yes.
Bravo, Georget!
Go on home, I'll meet you in an hour.
See you in an hour. Bye!
He boxed well.
It's a great night.
Yes.
A great night.
CHAMPION OF FRANCE
-Baron?
-Yes.
That woman...
She isn't dangerous, is she?
Don't be silly!
Yvonne is a socialite.
Just as I feared.
It feels strange to dance with you now.
Why?
To think that earlier tonight,
you were naked.
Yes, I was.
Mr. Georget! Would you?
Please sit down.
-Champagne?
-Sure.
You're so kind.
-To the champion of France.
-To the champion of France.
To the champion of France.
-Were you at the fight?
-No.
What a pity! Maybe next time.
To your health.
I don't know what she said,
but she's charming.
I'll see you at the European Championship.
Good-bye, Marie.
Charly, we're a roaring success.
You wouldn't believe how thirsty I am!
What?
It isn't funny?
No, it's very funny.
Then laugh!
Go on. You know —
No, no!
If you cry, you don't get any cake!
Come on, don't cry.
There, there.
Blow your nose.
Go on, blow.
There.
There, there.
There, there. It's over.
There, there. It's over.
-Tired?
-No, I'm wide awake.
That's good.
Why?
Because then you can take me home.
Sure.
Hold on, Georget. Last dance.
Don't forget our meeting tomorrow
with the organizer
of the European Championship.
Definitely, Baron,
I don't like socialites.
What a strange idea!
I can't go out with my chambermaid, can I?
Driver! Get Baron Stanislaus's car.
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
The sun rises so early these days.
How sweet!
Did you wait up?
I brought you something.
The gloves I won the championship with.
There's a dedication.
“To Mariette, for life.”
Signed, “Battling Georget,
Champion of France.”
Listen, I can explain everything.
It's not as bad as you think.
You really should have come.
First, we went to Monseigneur.
It was swell.
Nothing but high society people.
And there was this black singer!
Marie, a Spanish lady,
wanted to dance a tango with me.
Plus, they had two orchestras.
Money's no object in such places.
How we danced!
So much fun.
And we drank some champagne.
Some? Rivers of champagne.
And we danced. The night just flew by.
Nights are so short in summer.
Now that I've explained,
I have some good news.
We're moving.
I like this place, but it's a bit stuffy.
Now that we have money,
we'll get a real apartment...
with a bathroom, gas,
electricity, central heating,
modern plumbing, and an elevator too.
We'll have an elevator.
The good life, you'll see.
-I'll see that in two months.
-Two months?
I didn't want to tell you before the
championship, but it was arranged long ago.
-What?
-I'm going on tour.
-You're leaving?
-Today.
You're kidding.
No.
One, two, three, four, five,
six, seven, eight, nine.
Knockout!
One, two, three...
four...
Four.
Where the heck is he?
Where was I?
Right. Four...
five, six, seven...
Mariette?
Are the dates for
the European Championship suitable?
The dates are fine.
What about the purse?
300,000 francs.
Sixty percent for the winner,
40 percent for the loser.
Sixty percent. How much is that?
180 grand.
-I don't accept.
-We don't accept.
What do you want?
400,000, 60-40.
Fine.
We'll go to America.
That's right.
We'll go to America.
-What's your best offer?
-400,000, 60-40.
-Let's sign.
-No!
The whole pot if I win, nothing if I lose.
The whole purse for the winner.
-You can sign now.
-He sure showed you!
Take it.
I counted it.
Are you happy?
Did you take your share?
Thanks.
Here, Fred.
Kid, what are you going to do now?
The European Championship
is in three months.
I'm giving you two weeks vacation.
Don't worry about anything.
Don't think about me.
Hold on.
I prepared a note for you.
Just a few reminders.
“Don't eat too much starchy food.
Don't drink too many aperitifs.
Stick to smoking Caporals.”
They're the least unhealthy.
And as for women...
Who's there?
Okay. Hold on.
For you. No, it's for Georget.
Hello?
-Who?
-Me.
Oh, right.
I'm waiting for you. Come over.
I'll be right there.
-Good-bye.
-Good-bye.
-Good-bye.
-Bye, Georget.
Georget?
Don't I get a hug?
Come here, half pint.
Good-bye!
You're so sweet.
Marguerite!
What happened to you?
Gorgeous!
-Take off your jacket.
-Why?
Take off your jacket.
-Oh, okay.
-No, no!
That's enough.
I like you better like that.
-Really?
-Yes.
-Then...
-What?
-Yes?
-No.
WEIL FURS
APRIL 24
No, sir, this is Marguerite.
Madam and sir are still in Deauville.
Deauville!
Deauville!
APRIL 29
Hello?
Is that finally you?
What do you mean?
I've been waiting eight days for you.
Oh, right.
You don't train in Deauville!
-I'm coming.
-What is it?
Nothing. Charly's been
waiting for me for eight days.
-Do you have to go?
-Of course.
You're not mad?
No, but I'm sad.
Don't be.
Can I watch you train?
Of course.
Don't wear yourself out.
Don't worry.
Bravo!
-It's slow.
-It's slow.
Slow?
Yes, it's slow.
Time out.
Just look at you!
You're in terrible shape.
You've got to lose weight.
Let's see some shadowboxing.
-Uppercut.
-Magnificent!
No? It's not magnificent.
Go on, uppercut.
Double left jab.
Right.
It's terrible. Don't bother.
Give me a chance to adjust.
You were supposed
to be here eight days ago.
You don't deserve to train in this place.
Very true.
If you'd known those guys...
I knew them.
No, I never knew them.
Go on, hands up!
You're up, Duvert.
Good. Very good!
Bravo! Now that's a punch.
It's not bad,
but nothing like a Tommy Burns.
Right?
It's not as good
as the Tommy Burns attack.
You don't know the Tommy Burns attack?
What do they teach you in school?
Unbelievable!
Don't move. I'll show you. You'll see.
The baron's an idiot.
Time.
Why? It hasn't been three minutes.
What's wrong?
I'm not bothering you.
That's just it. You are bothering me.
-Are you nuts?
-Be quiet. I'm know what I'm doing.
-I want you to leave.
-I want you to stay!
I've had about enough
of you and your tart.
-You've had enough? Shut up.
-Idiot.
Did he hurt you?
It's nothing, big guy.
You just fell.
You must've slipped.
-Is this the champion's room?
-Yes, but I'm not sleeping here.
-You're coming back to Paris?
-Immediately. With you.
Really?
-Does it hurt?
-Yes! What a brute!
Don't worry, he won't do it again.
-Really?
-I swear it.
The Tommy Burns attack is very simple.
What's going on?
Where's Georget?
Look, there's Georget.
-Georget?
-Yeah.
-That's strange. He never comes here.
-True.
Excuse me a minute.
Now, that guy's got class.
He'll be champion of Europe, no problem.
If the women don't kill him first!
-What can I get you?
-Black currant liqueur.
-My beer is over there. Bring it over.
-No, I'll have a beer.
Yes, sir.
What's up?
Charly gave you a night off?
-No. We argued.
-No!
-I socked him.
-No kidding?
Are you leaving him?
I sure am!
Do you need money?
I sure do.
How much?
10,000.
All right.
You'll have it tomorrow.
Thanks. You're a good guy.
See that? That scoundrel Albert
just got his hooks in Georget.
Some day he'll bite off
more than he can chew.
BOXING - A DIVORCE
BATTLING GEORGET LEFT
HIS MANAGER, CHARLY STICK
Get your Paris-Soir here! Paris-Soir!
Anything new?
Not much.
The usual nonsense,
and a husband who murdered his wife.
Really? Why?
She was too ugly.
No news.
-Hello, Miss Catherine.
-Hello, Miss Mariette.
You look well! Have a nice trip?
-Any letters for me?
-Nothing since you left.
-Thanks.
-Good-bye, miss.
She's back from her tour.
Waiter!
-Sir?
-A whiskey.
-Soda?
-Neat.
Yes, sir.
What was that about?
He's Jacques Dalcoze. Flying ace.
He just crossed the Atlantic.
Would you love me if I weren't champion?
You are champion.
But what if I lose?
You won't. I'm your mascot.
Believe me, Mariette,
if you don't come, all is lost.
-I don't care.
-Don't say that.
You know nothing of the boxing world.
It's a rough place.
He has a new manager, a guy named Albert.
He's in the clutches of a scoundrel.
Too bad for him.
Knowing he's with that woman,
that doesn't bother you?
Not at all.
That's not much.
I'm very happy now.
Yeah. You only think of yourself.
What about him?
I don't love him anymore.
All right.
You'll just let us leave like that?
-Good-bye, Mariette.
-Good-bye.
-Good-bye, Mariette.
-Good-bye, Fred.
Good-bye.
Hurry up!
Listen, Albert,
the championship is in eight days
and I look terrible.
-It's a disaster.
-Don't worry, buddy.
-You can handle that loser!
-So you say.
-He's so pessimistic today.
-It's normal.
Don't you trust me?
Too much. You scare me.
Do you want to make money?
Depends on how.
Leave it to me.
Leave it to him. Albert isn't Charly.
I know that.
-What's wrong?
-Nothing. I'll see you at home.
I need to talk to you.
Good old Charly!
Sit down. We need to talk.
You know Albert, don't you?
Sit down.
Sit down.
-What are you drinking?
-Nothing.
To your health.
How are you?
And Fred?
-What about you?
-Me?
I'm merry, so very merry!
Excessively merry!
Listen to me.
Come on, don't be pessimistic.
I'm a champion merrily ready for my fight!
What's wrong with you? Heartburn?
You've had enough. Be quiet.
Know where you're headed?
To the slaughterhouse.
This dirty scoundrel is leading you there!
-What?
-He needs you to lose, not win.
You'd better shut up!
For once, I've got a ringside seat!
He really socked you!
I love it!
How's your jaw?
I never fight in a tuxedo.
-What a snob!
-I know his kind.
Fairground boxer!
Fell off an apple cart
and now he thinks he's a big shot.
-He took a big shot at your jaw!
-What?
If it weren't for you,
he'd still be begging at the fair.
-Want me to tell you?
-Leave me alone.
-What?
-You disgust me.
You look like a liar. You make me sick.
Who is it?
It's me.
It's just me.
Fred!
-Fred, it's Georget.
-What?
Isn't that funny?
I was just dreaming about you.
It was a great dream.
You'd come back to us
and you sat down,
like you are now, on the bed.
We were all choked up.
We didn't know what to say.
So we said nothing.
Is it too late
for my European Championship?
Don't worry. We'll get right to work!
Yeah, we'll get right to work!
In the title bout for
Welterweight Champion of Europe,
it's the champion of England, Jim Malone,
146 pounds nine ounces,
against the champion of France,
Battling Georget,
146 pounds three ounces.
The fight referee is Henri Blancstelle,
and the timer is Kim —
Jim Malone!
Battling Georget!
Hello.
Ladies and gentlemen,
I'm honored to do the commentary
for the European Championship
between our national champion,
Battling Georget,
and the champion of England, Jim Malone.
I just hope
your Georget gets a good beating tonight.
You too, right?
I don't hope for anything. I don't care.
Mariette, you're on next.
Get ready, the fight is starting.
Round one!
Just watch. If Georget follows my advice,
he'll use the Tommy Burns attack.
-You seem quite taken with this Tommy...
-Burns.
-Georget is sensational!
-Thank you, madam.
Tommy Burns!
Watch.
...Battling Georget...
What's wrong with you? Get back out there.
Madam,
can't you be more careful?
What's his problem?
Worried I'll stain his bow tie?
Where do you think you are?
The upcoming rounds will force our Georget
to summon all his skill
to defeat a truly worthy adversary.
We're in for some incredible boxing.
Round two!
Enjoy it! It won't last!
Georget, you're gonna hit the chandelier!
Georget, you're losing your dentures!
Hang on to your shorts!
Knock him out!
Shut up, you oafs in the cheap seats!
Shut up!
Knock him out, Georget! I'm watching you!
This doesn't look good!
If I knew, I'd have bet on the Englishman.
Guard up, kid, guard up!
Georget's face is bloodied.
Leave it. It's good luck.
...of the substances is improved,
especially at the start —
...Oats, running at 95/90 —
Honey Pie, running at 3/81 —
...in the evening. The temperature is —
The Englishman has the advantage.
His right hook, blocked too late,
puts Georget down.
-One.
-Get up!
-Two.
-Get up, Georget!
-Three.
-Get up!
Four
Guard up.
Keep it up!
Keep after him! You're winning, Georget!
You're winning, Georget!
Our champion is seeing red, literally.
He's fighting back,
taking control of the fight.
Hooray, Georget!
Georget increases the pressure,
forcing the Englishman to retreat.
Georget feints,
then lands a terrific uppercut.
He's making the Englishman pay
for his earlier success.
Bravo, Georget!
The champion of England
lands a double left jab.
Bravo, Malone!
Cheers for the Englishman.
Georget feebly counterattacks.
The Englishman wants to finish this.
He attacks relentlessly.
The Frenchman moves away.
He won't accept defeat.
Faced with losing his past glory,
he tries to postpone it.
His face is covered with blood.
Emotion seizes the crowd.
They've stopped yelling.
Get Georget, he's ready for the slaughter!
Don't let him corner you, kid!
Get out of there! Get free!
Move it.
Only 20 seconds left.
Attack! Attack!
Attack with your left!
Don't drop your guard.
Good!
Get free! Get free!
Your left! Left!
Pass me the bottle.
Pass me the bottle!
Georget!
Here, Georget!
Just five more seconds!
Three more seconds!
Here's the gong.
Good job, kid.
You're fighting well.
You've got heart.
You're brave, you know?
I can't watch this. It's killing me.
Kid...
want to give up?
Clear the ring.
One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven.
One...
Ten. Knockout!
The gong has just announced
the defeat of Battling Georget.
Once a great champion,
now reduced to nothing.
His face bloody and swollen,
he heads back to the locker room.
He fought honorably and bravely,
but now he's back at square one.
Jim Malone reappears.
The crowd gives him another ovation.
People swarm him.
They lift him onto their shoulders.
The new champion is carried out
in triumph.
Darling...
You're hurting me.
He hit you hard, didn't he?
Why don't we walk home?
You'll make a comeback.
I'm sure you will. You're strong.
You'll be stronger than ever.
-Please forgive me, Mariette.
-Be quiet.
We'll begin anew.
Won't Bobby be glad when he hears that?
You'll hurt yourself.
THE END
This is a song a sailor, one night
Hummed as his ship left the port
It was just one line
Full of hope
A memory of sweet hours
And murmured good-byes
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When I leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
When the cruel sea
Threatens him with peril
The laughing sailor sings into the wind
His heart tells him
He'll pass safely through the storm
He keeps singing
Despite the sea spray
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When I leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
But the beauty for whom the sailor sings
Has other lovers sailing the seas
No matter!
Each believes they're her only love
Exile is easier to bear
When they can sing
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When I leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
It's not every day the ship is in layup.
-Hip, hip...
-Hooray!
Where will you go, Yves?
Me? Saint-Malo.
-And you, Lionel?
-Quimper.
What about you, Georget?
Paris!
Let's hear it for Paris! Hip, hip...
Hooray!
Paris!
Get out of here! It's a raid.
Save me!
-What are you doing here, sailor?
-Getting some fresh air.
And her?
My wife.
Got any ID?
-Hurry up or I'll haul you both in!
-Hold on.
Here.
-Enough!
-Get moving.
The raid is over.
What a pity!
Thanks.
-What's your name?
-Mariette.
Well, good-bye.
Leaving already? Nothing for me?
And you were so nice!
Let's see your eyes.
You don't look the type.
Sorry.
I can still walk you home.
-You live here?
-Yes.
-Someone's waiting for you?
-Yes.
-What's his name?
-Bobby.
-He supports you?
-No.
-You bring home the bacon?
-Naturally.
You disgust me. Good night.
Why don't you come up
and say hello to Bobby?
-What?
-Unless you're afraid.
Me, afraid? When pigs fly.
Bobby, we have a visitor.
Don't be afraid.
This is Bobby.
Come here, Bobby.
Bobby, my baby!
Isn't he sweet?
You certainly fooled me, miss.
So I'm “miss” now?
Forgive me, I was informal
too quickly with you.
Thank you.
-What do you do?
-I work.
-In what?
-Guess.
Hold on.
You're... a seamstress.
No.
-Ticket-taker on the tram?
-No.
-Usher?
-No.
Operator? Typist?
-Midwife?
-No.
I'm an artiste.
-What?
-I sing at the Artistic Music Hall.
Hazy shadows in the night
That's all we are
Like beasts of burden
We move along silently
Braving the wind and cold
Rain soaks our shoulders
We offer pleasure, yet
It's not so much fun
When we walk the streets
Men ogle our curves
We murmur as they pass
Promises of love
Even with grumpy old gents
We must play our role
And call them “Cutie”
It's not so much fun
Our heartstrings are tugged
By romantic songs
We're all looking for love
With a capital “L”
We fall for a handsome guy
But if cash lacks at home
Our dear beloved leaves
It's not so much fun
-Thanks. Like it? Hold on.
-You were wonderful. Here.
-Hello, sir.
-Hello, madam.
Bravo!
Are you together?
Mr. Georget, Miss Dolly.
-Nice to meet you.
-Likewise.
Out! Let me change
and we'll go to the fair. Hurry up.
He's the champion. Here we go! Win a duck!
One franc a spin.
Try it, sir. One franc a spin.
-Number 7 wins.
-That's us! We won.
Here's your duck.
Time for a new spin. Win a duck!
Ladies and gentlemen,
who'll try their luck?
Now, ladies and gentlemen,
I'm honored to present
Cannon Man!
The world's strongest athlete.
He's never backed down from any challenge.
You can say that again! And again!
Victor San Grenelle!
His biography is featured
in all the sporting papers.
Victor is the best wrestler in the world.
Fair warning
to amateurs wishing
to wrestle Miss Patita:
It's not fake. Our matches are for real.
All you weaklings who want to show off,
it's time for you to leave!
It's not fake like in the movies!
We've nothing to hide.
Let's go. Those matches are a sham.
-Just a little longer.
-Come on.
Now I'm honored to introduce Charly Stick.
Charly Stick!
Charly Stick? Faker.
The great pugilist whose fame
has crossed every sea, lake, and river.
Charly Stick, standing before you,
is a former champion of France and Europe,
welterweight and all-category.
Charly Stick is ready
to take on any amateur
practicing boxing
with international rules.
International rules.
-We follow international rules.
-Who wants to fight Charly Stick?
Come on! Hurry!
-How about you, soldier?
-Soldier?
Too chicken, grunt?
What about you, sailor?
Toss them to me.
Get your tickets!
We have seats for every budget.
Seats start at two francs. Step right up.
Don't do it, darling.
Don't worry, sweetheart.
A sailor knows how to fight.
Go sit down.
See you later.
-You know how this works, right?
-Don't worry.
-You'll pull your punches, right?
-Pull my punches?
Pull your punches. These matches
aren't about getting beaten up.
Charly will let it go three rounds,
and in the third,
you go down for the count.
Are you kidding?
You'll get to pass around a hat.
You'll get 20, even 50 francs.
Fifty big ones!
-That's a lot for a sailor.
-No, thanks.
I'll give you the lowdown.
He's heavier than you
and he can put your lights out.
I don't care.
-You don't?
-Not at all.
-That's your final decision?
-Yes.
You're in for it.
-Listen, Charly.
-What?
The sailor refuses to play along.
Ladies and gentlemen, the main event!
The amateur on my left, 150 pounds.
Charly Stick, 155 pounds.
Ready?
One, two, three,
four, five, six,
seven, eight, nine.
Knockout!
Quiet, please! Quiet!
Quiet!
With your own eyes,
you saw it was a fair fight.
For the first time,
Charly has bit the dust!
The winner, this sailor,
will now pass a hat around.
...28, 29, 30!
30. 32.
Thirty-two francs and 50 centimes!
Let's live it up!
Waiter! Bring us some white wine
with some French fries.
-No.
-Yes.
If we'd never met
Never my heart
You can sing?
Not really. Just at sea,
on the ship with my buddies.
When you leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
If we'd have never met
I'd never have known love
Look.
Look, look.
He looks so unhappy. Poor old guy.
I hope you're not mad at me.
No.
It was a fair fight.
Do you know Mariette?
-Mariette?
-Yeah.
Come on, I'll introduce you.
-Just a second.
-Forget it.
Hey, it's on me.
Come meet Mariette.
Come meet Mariette.
What are you drinking? Sit down.
-I don't want to intrude.
-Come on, have a drink.
Take my glass. I'll share with my girl.
You're sweet together.
It hurts, doesn't it?
I'm used to it.
I'm getting old.
These last four years, I'm useless.
-Come on, don't be sad.
-You mustn't be sad.
I'll try to entertain you.
This is a song a sailor, one night
Hummed as his ship left the port
It was just one line
Full of hope
The memory of sweet hours
And murmured good-byes
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When you leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
When the cruel sea
Threatens him with peril
The laughing sailor sings into the wind
His heart tells him
He'll pass safely through the storm
He keeps singing
Despite the sea spray
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When you leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
But the beauty for whom the sailor sings
Has other lovers sailing the seas
No matter!
Each believes they're her only love
Exile is easier to bear
When they can sing
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When you leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
What a great day! Everybody sing!
If we'd have never met
Never my heart
Never my lips
Never would have kept
The memory of our passionate hours
When you leave, I wouldn't long
To see your eyes again
I'd never feel deep inside
These waves of tenderness
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
Like that, Charly?
Hey!
The music is over.
Go clear the tables. Move it.
Where'd you learn to box?
Nowhere. Just fighting in the navy.
You're good, you know.
-If you wanted —
-I don't want him to!
In such situations,
women don't get to decide.
-You see?
-No.
If you wanted,
I could make you what I was.
Understand?
I was... a champion.
Don't laugh, buddy, I'm serious.
But it takes money.
Hold on.
I know where to find it!
I'll get the baron
interested in our project.
-Baron?
-Don't worry about it.
Tomorrow morning,
I'll give the baron his boxing lesson.
I know exactly how I'll do it.
The baron,
back when I was in shape, like you,
always bet on my fights
so I earned him money.
-Baron, you'll kill the flies!
-This is terrible.
It's fine.
Your left.
-Left?
-Yes.
Stop.
-Time for your lesson.
-My lesson.
Right. Left.
Stomach. Heart. Good!
-Your right.
-What?
-Right.
-Right?
This is my right.
I'm begging you, Baron,
give me a right to the chin.
-I'm afraid I'll hurt you.
-Go ahead.
-Here comes the right!
-What?
-It's about to fly.
-Good.
Here it goes!
-It never made it.
-Yet it went.
Deep breaths.
Nice and deep.
What will you have?
We're waiting for someone.
-Sir?
-Two coffees with milk.
Watch what you're doing!
It wasn't on purpose.
It wasn't? I hope not!
Now run along.
It's nothing. No, really.
We'll never come here again.
Now we'll box. Gloves up.
Good!
How's it going at the fairground, Charly?
Not so bad.
-I'm thinking of launching a boxer.
-Really?
Yes, I found one.
If you'll permit,
I'd be honored
to let you see him in action.
Good! You're in fine form this morning.
What weight is he?
Welterweight.
Is he good?
First-class.
How about that left?
You never saw it coming.
But I felt it land!
What if I took an interest
in your protégé?
-It'll cost you.
-How much?
Good lord, your left is a killer!
To start with,
we need to rent a training camp.
-In Paris, that costs about...
-How much?
About...
You're on fire this morning, Baron!
-About how much?
-About...
About? How much?
About 20,000.
How much did you say, 20,000?
Hold on, I'll write you a check.
-What if Charly doesn't come back?
-Then it didn't work.
I did it! The deal is sealed!
-It is?
-Take a look.
20,000 francs!
The baron was well and truly had!
I got him!
Waiter!
-What will you have?
-A quinquina.
One quinquina.
-I'll have a Pernod.
-Me too.
Wait, not for you. You're in training.
-He'll have mineral water.
-So it begins...
We'll have a quick drink,
then we'll go find a training camp.
I'm so happy.
Mariette, what's wrong?
-You're not very enthusiastic.
-I am.
-She's all choked up.
-Only natural!
We'll have a quick drink,
and then we'll go get Fred.
-Fred?
-He's a good guy.
We can't abandon him.
He'll be useful. You'll see.
-He can be your cornerman.
-Sounds good.
If you follow my advice...
in six months,
you'll be champion of France.
Hear me?
Champion of France!
FRENCH BOXING CHAMPIONSHIP
15 3-MINUTE ROUNDS
DEFENDING FRENCH CHAMPION
AGAINST
TONIGHT AT SALLE WAGRAM
-Who is this Georget guy?
-Some loser.
He beat Gregorio with
a below-the-belt blow in Lille,
and his fight
with Little Kildou was a draw.
-Nothing serious then.
-He's a joke. He won't last two rounds.
-Does your right hand hurt?
-I won't even need it.
Georget, you're up!
The preliminaries are over.
Hey, kid. How are you feeling?
I'm fine.
Of course you're fine!
You'll do great!
Sure, Mariette, watch that for me.
Landry, wrap it up in under 15 minutes!
We'll be waiting at the corner bar.
Ignore them.
-Come on, Mariette!
-I'd rather stay here.
Your boxer is quite good-looking.
We'll see how he looks when it's over.
-Still betting on Landry, Baron?
-Of course.
-If Georget wins, you'll owe me.
-There!
What are you doing, Stanislaus?
-Betting on Landry?
-Yes.
I applaud my protégé,
but put my money on the other.
I'm prudent.
National Championship Match.
Fifteen three-minute rounds.
Defending his title
as Welterweight French Champion,
Paul Landry,
weighing 146 pounds eight ounces,
against Battling Georget, challenger,
145 pounds 15 ounces.
Paul Landry!
Battling Georget!
Piece of cake, Landry!
Finish him quick
so we don't miss the last metro!
You know the rules.
No blows to the back of the neck.
Most of all, no holding.
Shake hands. May the best man win.
Georget, you're gonna get slaughtered!
Ready?
Sir, who's winning?
-The kid.
-Georget?
I don't know.
Sir, who's ahead?
The one who'll win.
Sir, please, I can't see.
I'm allowed to applaud
my protégé, aren't I?
I'll say it again — bravo!
Georget!
Get away from him, Landry!
Open your eyes, ref!
Hang in there, kid.
Keep it up, Georget. You'll get him.
You're doing great.
My friends, I believe we'll be
champion of France before midnight.
You're boxing well, kid.
-He hits hard, you know.
-What about you?
Twice, I thought he looked dazed.
When you nailed him with your right,
he almost fell.
Most importantly, don't get angry.
Stay calm.
Bring him down in the fifth.
He has a weak heart.
Aim for his heart.
Bring him down in the second round.
He has a weak heart.
Aim for his heart.
Ring it.
How lovely!
Maybe you didn't notice,
but he's a swarmer, like me.
It's our style.
Right! With power!
Keep your guard up, Landry!
Don't let him corner you.
Guard up! Keep him moving.
One, two, three,
four, five, six,
seven, eight, nine,
ten. Knockout!
The new French Welterweight Champion,
Battling Georget!
Georget, my boy,
what style!
You're hot?
You fought like an ace!
Georget!
Are you okay, darling?
What did I tell you?
We won't stop here.
He'll be champion of Europe!
He'll be champion of Europe, gentlemen.
Georget, what about Mariette?
Come on, let's go!
The baron has reserved
a table at the Monseigneur.
-Isn't that swell? I've never been.
-Bravo, Georget!
Come on.
What's wrong?
Don't you want to come?
Bravo, Georget!
You'd rather go home?
Yes.
Bravo, Georget!
Go on home, I'll meet you in an hour.
See you in an hour. Bye!
He boxed well.
It's a great night.
Yes.
A great night.
CHAMPION OF FRANCE
-Baron?
-Yes.
That woman...
She isn't dangerous, is she?
Don't be silly!
Yvonne is a socialite.
Just as I feared.
It feels strange to dance with you now.
Why?
To think that earlier tonight,
you were naked.
Yes, I was.
Mr. Georget! Would you?
Please sit down.
-Champagne?
-Sure.
You're so kind.
-To the champion of France.
-To the champion of France.
To the champion of France.
-Were you at the fight?
-No.
What a pity! Maybe next time.
To your health.
I don't know what she said,
but she's charming.
I'll see you at the European Championship.
Good-bye, Marie.
Charly, we're a roaring success.
You wouldn't believe how thirsty I am!
What?
It isn't funny?
No, it's very funny.
Then laugh!
Go on. You know —
No, no!
If you cry, you don't get any cake!
Come on, don't cry.
There, there.
Blow your nose.
Go on, blow.
There.
There, there.
There, there. It's over.
There, there. It's over.
-Tired?
-No, I'm wide awake.
That's good.
Why?
Because then you can take me home.
Sure.
Hold on, Georget. Last dance.
Don't forget our meeting tomorrow
with the organizer
of the European Championship.
Definitely, Baron,
I don't like socialites.
What a strange idea!
I can't go out with my chambermaid, can I?
Driver! Get Baron Stanislaus's car.
We'd never have known love
If we'd have never met
The sun rises so early these days.
How sweet!
Did you wait up?
I brought you something.
The gloves I won the championship with.
There's a dedication.
“To Mariette, for life.”
Signed, “Battling Georget,
Champion of France.”
Listen, I can explain everything.
It's not as bad as you think.
You really should have come.
First, we went to Monseigneur.
It was swell.
Nothing but high society people.
And there was this black singer!
Marie, a Spanish lady,
wanted to dance a tango with me.
Plus, they had two orchestras.
Money's no object in such places.
How we danced!
So much fun.
And we drank some champagne.
Some? Rivers of champagne.
And we danced. The night just flew by.
Nights are so short in summer.
Now that I've explained,
I have some good news.
We're moving.
I like this place, but it's a bit stuffy.
Now that we have money,
we'll get a real apartment...
with a bathroom, gas,
electricity, central heating,
modern plumbing, and an elevator too.
We'll have an elevator.
The good life, you'll see.
-I'll see that in two months.
-Two months?
I didn't want to tell you before the
championship, but it was arranged long ago.
-What?
-I'm going on tour.
-You're leaving?
-Today.
You're kidding.
No.
One, two, three, four, five,
six, seven, eight, nine.
Knockout!
One, two, three...
four...
Four.
Where the heck is he?
Where was I?
Right. Four...
five, six, seven...
Mariette?
Are the dates for
the European Championship suitable?
The dates are fine.
What about the purse?
300,000 francs.
Sixty percent for the winner,
40 percent for the loser.
Sixty percent. How much is that?
180 grand.
-I don't accept.
-We don't accept.
What do you want?
400,000, 60-40.
Fine.
We'll go to America.
That's right.
We'll go to America.
-What's your best offer?
-400,000, 60-40.
-Let's sign.
-No!
The whole pot if I win, nothing if I lose.
The whole purse for the winner.
-You can sign now.
-He sure showed you!
Take it.
I counted it.
Are you happy?
Did you take your share?
Thanks.
Here, Fred.
Kid, what are you going to do now?
The European Championship
is in three months.
I'm giving you two weeks vacation.
Don't worry about anything.
Don't think about me.
Hold on.
I prepared a note for you.
Just a few reminders.
“Don't eat too much starchy food.
Don't drink too many aperitifs.
Stick to smoking Caporals.”
They're the least unhealthy.
And as for women...
Who's there?
Okay. Hold on.
For you. No, it's for Georget.
Hello?
-Who?
-Me.
Oh, right.
I'm waiting for you. Come over.
I'll be right there.
-Good-bye.
-Good-bye.
-Good-bye.
-Bye, Georget.
Georget?
Don't I get a hug?
Come here, half pint.
Good-bye!
You're so sweet.
Marguerite!
What happened to you?
Gorgeous!
-Take off your jacket.
-Why?
Take off your jacket.
-Oh, okay.
-No, no!
That's enough.
I like you better like that.
-Really?
-Yes.
-Then...
-What?
-Yes?
-No.
WEIL FURS
APRIL 24
No, sir, this is Marguerite.
Madam and sir are still in Deauville.
Deauville!
Deauville!
APRIL 29
Hello?
Is that finally you?
What do you mean?
I've been waiting eight days for you.
Oh, right.
You don't train in Deauville!
-I'm coming.
-What is it?
Nothing. Charly's been
waiting for me for eight days.
-Do you have to go?
-Of course.
You're not mad?
No, but I'm sad.
Don't be.
Can I watch you train?
Of course.
Don't wear yourself out.
Don't worry.
Bravo!
-It's slow.
-It's slow.
Slow?
Yes, it's slow.
Time out.
Just look at you!
You're in terrible shape.
You've got to lose weight.
Let's see some shadowboxing.
-Uppercut.
-Magnificent!
No? It's not magnificent.
Go on, uppercut.
Double left jab.
Right.
It's terrible. Don't bother.
Give me a chance to adjust.
You were supposed
to be here eight days ago.
You don't deserve to train in this place.
Very true.
If you'd known those guys...
I knew them.
No, I never knew them.
Go on, hands up!
You're up, Duvert.
Good. Very good!
Bravo! Now that's a punch.
It's not bad,
but nothing like a Tommy Burns.
Right?
It's not as good
as the Tommy Burns attack.
You don't know the Tommy Burns attack?
What do they teach you in school?
Unbelievable!
Don't move. I'll show you. You'll see.
The baron's an idiot.
Time.
Why? It hasn't been three minutes.
What's wrong?
I'm not bothering you.
That's just it. You are bothering me.
-Are you nuts?
-Be quiet. I'm know what I'm doing.
-I want you to leave.
-I want you to stay!
I've had about enough
of you and your tart.
-You've had enough? Shut up.
-Idiot.
Did he hurt you?
It's nothing, big guy.
You just fell.
You must've slipped.
-Is this the champion's room?
-Yes, but I'm not sleeping here.
-You're coming back to Paris?
-Immediately. With you.
Really?
-Does it hurt?
-Yes! What a brute!
Don't worry, he won't do it again.
-Really?
-I swear it.
The Tommy Burns attack is very simple.
What's going on?
Where's Georget?
Look, there's Georget.
-Georget?
-Yeah.
-That's strange. He never comes here.
-True.
Excuse me a minute.
Now, that guy's got class.
He'll be champion of Europe, no problem.
If the women don't kill him first!
-What can I get you?
-Black currant liqueur.
-My beer is over there. Bring it over.
-No, I'll have a beer.
Yes, sir.
What's up?
Charly gave you a night off?
-No. We argued.
-No!
-I socked him.
-No kidding?
Are you leaving him?
I sure am!
Do you need money?
I sure do.
How much?
10,000.
All right.
You'll have it tomorrow.
Thanks. You're a good guy.
See that? That scoundrel Albert
just got his hooks in Georget.
Some day he'll bite off
more than he can chew.
BOXING - A DIVORCE
BATTLING GEORGET LEFT
HIS MANAGER, CHARLY STICK
Get your Paris-Soir here! Paris-Soir!
Anything new?
Not much.
The usual nonsense,
and a husband who murdered his wife.
Really? Why?
She was too ugly.
No news.
-Hello, Miss Catherine.
-Hello, Miss Mariette.
You look well! Have a nice trip?
-Any letters for me?
-Nothing since you left.
-Thanks.
-Good-bye, miss.
She's back from her tour.
Waiter!
-Sir?
-A whiskey.
-Soda?
-Neat.
Yes, sir.
What was that about?
He's Jacques Dalcoze. Flying ace.
He just crossed the Atlantic.
Would you love me if I weren't champion?
You are champion.
But what if I lose?
You won't. I'm your mascot.
Believe me, Mariette,
if you don't come, all is lost.
-I don't care.
-Don't say that.
You know nothing of the boxing world.
It's a rough place.
He has a new manager, a guy named Albert.
He's in the clutches of a scoundrel.
Too bad for him.
Knowing he's with that woman,
that doesn't bother you?
Not at all.
That's not much.
I'm very happy now.
Yeah. You only think of yourself.
What about him?
I don't love him anymore.
All right.
You'll just let us leave like that?
-Good-bye, Mariette.
-Good-bye.
-Good-bye, Mariette.
-Good-bye, Fred.
Good-bye.
Hurry up!
Listen, Albert,
the championship is in eight days
and I look terrible.
-It's a disaster.
-Don't worry, buddy.
-You can handle that loser!
-So you say.
-He's so pessimistic today.
-It's normal.
Don't you trust me?
Too much. You scare me.
Do you want to make money?
Depends on how.
Leave it to me.
Leave it to him. Albert isn't Charly.
I know that.
-What's wrong?
-Nothing. I'll see you at home.
I need to talk to you.
Good old Charly!
Sit down. We need to talk.
You know Albert, don't you?
Sit down.
Sit down.
-What are you drinking?
-Nothing.
To your health.
How are you?
And Fred?
-What about you?
-Me?
I'm merry, so very merry!
Excessively merry!
Listen to me.
Come on, don't be pessimistic.
I'm a champion merrily ready for my fight!
What's wrong with you? Heartburn?
You've had enough. Be quiet.
Know where you're headed?
To the slaughterhouse.
This dirty scoundrel is leading you there!
-What?
-He needs you to lose, not win.
You'd better shut up!
For once, I've got a ringside seat!
He really socked you!
I love it!
How's your jaw?
I never fight in a tuxedo.
-What a snob!
-I know his kind.
Fairground boxer!
Fell off an apple cart
and now he thinks he's a big shot.
-He took a big shot at your jaw!
-What?
If it weren't for you,
he'd still be begging at the fair.
-Want me to tell you?
-Leave me alone.
-What?
-You disgust me.
You look like a liar. You make me sick.
Who is it?
It's me.
It's just me.
Fred!
-Fred, it's Georget.
-What?
Isn't that funny?
I was just dreaming about you.
It was a great dream.
You'd come back to us
and you sat down,
like you are now, on the bed.
We were all choked up.
We didn't know what to say.
So we said nothing.
Is it too late
for my European Championship?
Don't worry. We'll get right to work!
Yeah, we'll get right to work!
In the title bout for
Welterweight Champion of Europe,
it's the champion of England, Jim Malone,
146 pounds nine ounces,
against the champion of France,
Battling Georget,
146 pounds three ounces.
The fight referee is Henri Blancstelle,
and the timer is Kim —
Jim Malone!
Battling Georget!
Hello.
Ladies and gentlemen,
I'm honored to do the commentary
for the European Championship
between our national champion,
Battling Georget,
and the champion of England, Jim Malone.
I just hope
your Georget gets a good beating tonight.
You too, right?
I don't hope for anything. I don't care.
Mariette, you're on next.
Get ready, the fight is starting.
Round one!
Just watch. If Georget follows my advice,
he'll use the Tommy Burns attack.
-You seem quite taken with this Tommy...
-Burns.
-Georget is sensational!
-Thank you, madam.
Tommy Burns!
Watch.
...Battling Georget...
What's wrong with you? Get back out there.
Madam,
can't you be more careful?
What's his problem?
Worried I'll stain his bow tie?
Where do you think you are?
The upcoming rounds will force our Georget
to summon all his skill
to defeat a truly worthy adversary.
We're in for some incredible boxing.
Round two!
Enjoy it! It won't last!
Georget, you're gonna hit the chandelier!
Georget, you're losing your dentures!
Hang on to your shorts!
Knock him out!
Shut up, you oafs in the cheap seats!
Shut up!
Knock him out, Georget! I'm watching you!
This doesn't look good!
If I knew, I'd have bet on the Englishman.
Guard up, kid, guard up!
Georget's face is bloodied.
Leave it. It's good luck.
...of the substances is improved,
especially at the start —
...Oats, running at 95/90 —
Honey Pie, running at 3/81 —
...in the evening. The temperature is —
The Englishman has the advantage.
His right hook, blocked too late,
puts Georget down.
-One.
-Get up!
-Two.
-Get up, Georget!
-Three.
-Get up!
Four
Guard up.
Keep it up!
Keep after him! You're winning, Georget!
You're winning, Georget!
Our champion is seeing red, literally.
He's fighting back,
taking control of the fight.
Hooray, Georget!
Georget increases the pressure,
forcing the Englishman to retreat.
Georget feints,
then lands a terrific uppercut.
He's making the Englishman pay
for his earlier success.
Bravo, Georget!
The champion of England
lands a double left jab.
Bravo, Malone!
Cheers for the Englishman.
Georget feebly counterattacks.
The Englishman wants to finish this.
He attacks relentlessly.
The Frenchman moves away.
He won't accept defeat.
Faced with losing his past glory,
he tries to postpone it.
His face is covered with blood.
Emotion seizes the crowd.
They've stopped yelling.
Get Georget, he's ready for the slaughter!
Don't let him corner you, kid!
Get out of there! Get free!
Move it.
Only 20 seconds left.
Attack! Attack!
Attack with your left!
Don't drop your guard.
Good!
Get free! Get free!
Your left! Left!
Pass me the bottle.
Pass me the bottle!
Georget!
Here, Georget!
Just five more seconds!
Three more seconds!
Here's the gong.
Good job, kid.
You're fighting well.
You've got heart.
You're brave, you know?
I can't watch this. It's killing me.
Kid...
want to give up?
Clear the ring.
One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven.
One...
Ten. Knockout!
The gong has just announced
the defeat of Battling Georget.
Once a great champion,
now reduced to nothing.
His face bloody and swollen,
he heads back to the locker room.
He fought honorably and bravely,
but now he's back at square one.
Jim Malone reappears.
The crowd gives him another ovation.
People swarm him.
They lift him onto their shoulders.
The new champion is carried out
in triumph.
Darling...
You're hurting me.
He hit you hard, didn't he?
Why don't we walk home?
You'll make a comeback.
I'm sure you will. You're strong.
You'll be stronger than ever.
-Please forgive me, Mariette.
-Be quiet.
We'll begin anew.
Won't Bobby be glad when he hears that?
You'll hurt yourself.
THE END