Easy Down There! (1971) - full transcript

A priest gets a little hot under the collar when the wife he thought was dead unexpectedly returns.

EASY DOWN THERE

- Hello, Father.
- Good morning.

- How's your dad?
- He has the flu.

- Your mother?
- She has a cough.

That's good.

I'll ring the bell.

There may be a few latecomers
coming across the moor.

Are you Father Medieu?

I guess so.

What I have to tell you
is quite sensitive.

It's windy around here.



God and the elements
reign supreme here.

Dear sir, the souls of the damned
run on the moor...

...and their tears mingle
with the cries of the gulls.

But what I have to tell you
is very sensitive.

You've stolen, raped, set fire to,
tortured, killed perhaps?

It's not that.

- I'm married.
- Very good.

So what?

Father, I'm your wife's husband.

Like to repeat that?

I am the husband of your wife.

Yes, I am Rita's husband.

Rita is dead.

Died 7 years ago.
That's why I took the cloth.



- No!
- Yes!

No, your wife is not dead,
not drowned off Saint-Tropez.

- I was at her funeral.
- The coffin was empty.

- But why?
- It was a conspiracy.

She wanted to free you.

Your life was hell, remember?

She made you so jealous.

You couldn't give concerts anymore.

That's true...

Once I slapped her so hard
that my left hand was paralysed.

We had to cancel a Salle Pleyel concert.

Had to refund everyone.

That bitch!

Rita dead...
she no longer had any civil status.

How did she marry you?

- I gave her false papers.
- Are you a cop?

The opposite.

Married a mobster!

The bitch!

She'd almost forgotten you.

One day she saw your photo
in the newspaper.

When you gave that concert
in Saint-Eustache.

Since then, she's lived only
in the hope of seeing you again.

See me again!?

The bitch!

- Listen, old man!
- I'm not your old man!

- Call me "Father".
- Father.

- Where is she?
- There.

There?

Where?

In the confessional.

Rotten bitch!

The Gospel according to St Luke
for the 4th Sunday after Advent.

At that time, Jesus said to his disciples:
"Don't be afraid my flock...

"...because your Father wanted
give you the kingdom”.

My daughters,
you will not hear mass today.

I am unfortunately not in a state
that's spiritual enough.

The Lord moves in mysterious ways.
He alone probes our kidneys and hearts.

How we are now...

How we are now,
is not continuous.

Myself, a minister of God
barely an hour ago...

...living among you
on a city's outskirts...

...in this poor parish near the sea...

...my heart in the music...

...head in the clouds...

...not far from paradise.

And suddenly,
as Bossuet said...

Madame didn't die!

Madame is not dead!

Her flesh speaks.

She's screaming again, brandishing at me
from the dark abyss of Satan's caves!

"Diabolicum perseverare"!

It is Satan who perseveres.

"Abyssum invocat."

The pit called The Abyss.
Amen.

You, indulgent husband...
wait for me there!

Father...

Scum!

Hello, Simon.

Simon is dead, unlike you, having
the bad taste to rise to the surface.

Pretty words in the mouth of a priest,
and a husband who loved me!

When I think of all the masses
what I said for the salvation of your soul!

They'll be kept for later.

What do you think of me?

Shameful.

Diabolical temptress!
Mary Magdalene!

Is that a compliment?

What happened to you?

I remarried, to Francisco.

Grotesque!

He has a bar
in the port of Brest.

- You... Rita!
- You stammer like before.

You won't make me angry any more.

In my husband's bar,
I take care of the customers.

Like you cared before,
for many of my friends.

- It's stronger than me.
- How unfortunate for you!

Keep your pity
for your old Breton women!

Tell me what you want
and let's get it over with!

I left you out of love.

So that you didn't kill me
in a moment of rage.

Only I never managed
to forget you.

You're unforgettable, Simon.

Get to the point!

I want you.
I dream of you.

St Paul...
"Thoughtless woman."

When I see you, when I hear you,
I hate women.

- I hate women!
- Priests!

Get out!
Or else confess.

- It would take too long.
- So let's get out of here.

Come with me to the parsonage.

- Come on!
- Simon.

No!

So?

It's cold here.

It's meant to be.
Speak, I have little time.

Very well.

I want to live with you again.

But I'm a priest!

If I reappear, if I resurrect,
my marriage isn't valid.

You're no longer a widower and
the Vatican releases you from your vows.

You become my husband again and
besides, you're not a defrocked priest.

Should I turn the other cheek?

The other cheek is turned
out of humility...

...not out of the outrageous perversion
of your abusive senses.

You still speak so well.

Get out of my sight
and never come back!

Why would I leave?

Think about your new husband.
Such a fine man!

Exactly.
He thinks only of my happiness.

Simon, if you reject me,
I'll go back to The Old Pirate.

Never heard of it.

That's my husband's bar.

And there, until you
come to pick me up...

...I'll be giving myself
to all the sailors in Brest harbour.

Dear Lord, what filth!

- Get out!
- Simon, you're crazy!

Messalina... gorgon creature!

Go on!

Go on... out!

Simon, you're crazy!

"Vade retro, Satana!"

One false move,
and I'll send you "ad patres"!

Out! Out! Out! Out!

And never come back!

I'll be waiting for you.

Not even to bury you.

Shit!

Go on!

How about your priest!

He's an artist.

Deep down, you're frozen...

...playing dead
to placate your boyfriend.

And then to put him back
in the saddle 7 years later!

You really are frozen!

I'm sure he'll come back to me.

And me? I love you.

What will I become?

You wouldn't be missing out
on women.

Whereas, my poor Simon...

He's a bit like a man
who's just done 7 years in jail.

His jail... He chose it.

Slow down and shut up.
I need to think.

Stop crying.
I can't stand men who cry!

Hello, Father.

Your Lordship...

Welcome, Father.

My old maid dumped me and my
deacon makes a horrible grub...

...but smell that.

Wild rabbit from Flanders.

- Divine.
- It's for tonight.

Thank you for
having received me without delay.

You know with what esteem
I hold you. How's your parish?

Falling apart.

The sailors who don't die at sea,
stay in front of TV.

Thyme, currants.

But that inhabited, unique place...
it's a rare location.

You were really keen
to get it, weren't you?

It's a good place for meditation
and sacred music.

I'd found peace there.

Tell me Father, looking at you...

...I see you're agitated,
and your speech is uncertain.

I'm not seeing the spiritual son
of Flechier and Bourdelle.

My lord, I am gravely tested.

Rejoice...!

God only really tests
the sons he loves.

In that case
I must be highly rated.

Are you sure you're not
committing the sin of pride?

My wife who was dead,
is no longer dead.

She's alive and remarried.

Her husband came
to see me with her.

She wants to leave him
and move in with me.

You know the Vatican position
on the marriage of priests.

- I agree with it, sir.
- And she's a bigamist!

A little calvados.
One teaspoon only.

And what does your successor
think of all this?

He's spineless.

Is he at least a decent sort of chap,
whose discretion we can count on?

No. He's a reprobate.

Runs a seedy bar.
A mainstay of the lower depths.

What century are we living in?

My son, my poor son, come.

Have you seen
how Mirliflora flourished?

- My little canon.
- Certainly, sir.

And what was your response
to your wife's proposals?

- No, no and no!
- To which she replied..?

Common decency forbids me
from repeating it.

It's necessary, however. Tell me.
I'm immune to the power of words.

First of all, you need to know
that she has The Old Pirate.

- Is that some bad guy?
- It's the name of their bar.

I see.

She says she'll have every sailor
in Brest, if I don't come for her.

Unfortunate.

The sin of the flesh
is not a cardinal sin.

From the Council of Trente,
enlightened minds have grasped...

...that the only sin from which there's
no return, is sin against the spirit.

Knowledge...

...without
the transcendence of love.

I hear what you say.

But I know her. She will.
She's my wife.

You're only married to God.

In second nuptials, my lord.

My first bed was with her.

Father, Father...

You've been dealt
a very bad hand.

Usually these days,
the priests want to take a wife...

and you have a wife
and you don't want her.

You're posing a problem of dogma here.

It could set a precedent.

What should I do?

Think.

Look inside yourself.
Follow your conscience.

My conscience is rather dark,
my lord.

"Desinit in piscem."

"Multi sunt vocati,
pauci vero electi."

"Alea jacta est."

Amen.

Pascal was right.

All my unhappiness as a man comes from
the fact that I can't rest in one bedroom.

Bossuet was not wrong.

Women only inflame
our sinful moods...

...and push them
into extravagant behaviour.

Listen to my conscience?
Easy to say!

My conscience is disturbed...
in flight.

Under these conditions, isn't science
without conscience the ruin of the soul?

Then...

then...

It's happening... peace is returning.

I feel myself calming down.

I've made my decision.
I'll go see her.

I will talk to her nicely.

I can find the words.

She'll understand.

She needs to understand...
and to leave me be.

Ah, how simple everything is,
once we make up our minds!

The wife is unfaithful.

The man is unfaithful.

The child is unfaithful.

It's really only dogs
that are faithful.

Mum, there's a priest
taking his clothes off.

That'll teach you
not to say dirty things!

Can I get you something, Father?

A dry white, my son.

You didn't come to get Rita?

No, just talk to her.

Where is she?

Where she told you she'd be.

She's a scavenger...
but she has only one word.

What do you mean.

Well, she works.

Upstairs.

You allow it?

She said she wouldn't stop
until you take her back.

And you do nothing?

What do you want me to do?

She's unstoppable.

I see a bunch of sad sacks
walking about the docks...

I'll give them a wink
and I'll double, triple my turnover.

I started in Montlucon,
would you believe...

The screwy chicks there had to
be threatened with a boot...

...or a broken bottle.

I gave 5 rebels
a scar to remember.

And at the end of the day,
what have I become?

A loser, a nobody!

As you see me here,
I'm like a Breton from the '30s...

A beginner at Chabadet.

She's the one who's
tied me up, shut me up.

They all laugh at me
around here.

Can I tell you
something, Father?

Love made me a lost man.

It's true.

You're a wet rag.

Hoist you on a mast,
and you'd flap like a flag.

Hey, easy with the insults...

This is not your parish.

There's only one person who has
the right to insult me: my wife!

My name's Mickey.

It's lovely.

Do I move remove him for you?

No.

He needs to talk to Rita first.

All right.

But with Rita...
You'll talk to her nicely.

Understood, young man?

Listen, I didn't come here
looking for a quarrel...

...but I do suggest that you
lock this Pithecanthropus up...

He's a danger to children.

What was that he said I was?

Pithecanthropus...
from the Greek pithekos.

Name given by some paleontologists
as intermediate between man and ape.

Stop!

Did you come to get me?

No, talk to you.

I'm not interested.
I don't have time.

- Shall we go back?
- Yes.

Stop!

You changed your mind?

Lot's wife was as pure as
the black virgin of the Cathars, to you.

Shame on you, you bitch!

Aren't you turning the other cheek?

Yes.

Listen, Mickey...
You need to know 2 things.

First I did my military time
in the infantry.

A grunt, yeah.

Then I became a priest.
I learned the word of Christ.

If someone hits you on the left cheek,
you have to turn your right cheek.

- With me?
- Impeccable.

However, in The Old Testament
which alas you have surely not read,

...Ezekiel recommends chastising
the infidel in the flesh of his flesh.

- The flesh of the flesh, but which one?
- That one.

What a man to be a priest!

I made it!

I'm going to kill you.

When I'm done with you
you'll look like the chef's terrine!

The chef's terrine, I love it,
finely-chopped and digestible!

Shit!

Father, I'd like to point out to you...

...that the warrior orders no longer
have the right of citizenship.

The Knights of Malta have
all surrendered the sword...

...and the Templars died at the stake.

M'Lord...

Forgive this late intrusion.

Late?

It's hardly late...
It will soon be matins.

M'Lord, I'll be brief.

One question, just one...

Do women have a soul?

Oh my dear boy...

It's open to discussion.

Caesar Borgia, who was
a somewhat poisonous pope...

...maintained no.

At the Council of Pisa in 1524,
he put the debate to the vote.

The cardinals voted.

Imagine... women had a soul!

But by a very small majority... 2 votes.

300 ballots for the no,
302 ballots for yes.

A shame.

So, were they 2 votes
from being beasts?

Yes.

Maybe we should re-vote.

In canon law,
it would be huge.

If I spoke about it
to the Apostolic Nuncio...

Imagine if the idea reaches the
Holy See and that it be adopted...

What a revolution!

Imagine the headlines
in the world press...

“After the hard-won rights
to vote everywhere...

...“women lose their soul in Rome”.

What a papal bull, Father!

It would be the bull of the century!

All the clouds in the sky
and all the perfumes of Arabia...

...will ever wash away
the imprint of this woman.

St Medar, St Arsene, St Rigobert,
St Therese of Avila, of Lisieux, as well...

...pray for me.

For me, Saint Philomena...

St Eloi and St Barbe.

For me St Lazare, St Martin
and St Denis.

Without forgetting St Cloud
or even St Radegonne.

- Oh Father!
- Let's talk!

Turn around, follow him!

Since I saw Rita again...

...I feel abandoned.

Oh Lord, why
have you left me in darkness?

Are you injured?

Alas no!

But... he'd been drinking.

No I haven't, my sons.

The rest of you be quiet!

There are very dark nights
where we all want God to test us.

Let him smash our carcasses...

...to rebuild ourselves better.

What do you think, Sergeant?

We should see what happens.

Be quiet out there!

Father, you must get up.
You've been in bed for 4 days.

I told mum that
you eat nothing, you drink nothing.

Do you want my mum
to come and take care of you?

No, no women!

No more women.

A priest.

Father...

You see, my boy...

I missed everything.

I live with a friend.

I live with a climbing epiphyllum...

...which climbs more and more
and which refuses to flower.

Father, your epiphyllum
only flowers in spring.

There are no more springs,
my boy.

There's nobody left,
there's nothing more.

Oh yes there is.

I talked about you
with my father.

He says you must have depression.

Or some sort of fit.

That's it...

I'm having a fit.

I made tea for you.

No sugar.

You're a good boy.

You want me to add
a slice of lemon?

No, I'm on a diet.

Fasting is the only way
to sharpen your mind.

What am I going to tell them?

Who?

Father, you have to
get yourself moving!

It's the 3rd Sunday after Christmas!

Annual Mass of Great Forgiveness.

The whole country turns up.

There are even cars from Paris.

And here comes the bishop's!

Run to the church, prepare the altar,
ring the bell. Hurry!

And don't forget anything...
or I'll box your ears.

The hypocrites, the weekend lackeys!

They come here like you'd go
to the theatre to see the sea.

Vacationers go away!

Music will be played
and my sermon enjoyed.

They're going to listen...

They’re going to get my sermon.

It'll be flamboyant, romantic,
gothic and really wild!

Just the thing!

I'll really dish it out!

He's giving it a real go, our priest.

Yes, a hell of a go.

He might break his instrument.

Why is he playing so loud?

I can't hear you,
my dear vicar.

Why is he playing so loud?

I think he plays too loud.

That's what I wanted to tell you.

Then why don't you say so?

Bizarre.

What did you say?

I said "bizarre".

Did you say bizarre?

I said it.

I've heard that somewhere before.

My brothers...

What is the sea?

A gigantic quantity of water...

...whose absurd volume
would border on the ridiculous...

...if it weren't the symbol
of the tragic age...

...where
the roar of disasters bellows...

...and waves of corruption break.

The ocean is a drama.

And the storm, the 3 acts
of a divine comedy...

...where we change our form...

...to enter the afterlife.

That's why,
my dear brothers...

...before celebrating
the annual mass of great forgiveness...

...I would like
to tell you something.

Sailor, fisherman...

...foremast topman, mizzen sailor...
cabin boy...

...happy, who like you others,
often die at sea.

While there are others...

...others who live stupidly on earth...

...puffed up like turkeys...

...unable to stand on their own...

...or to take the measure
of their own nothingness.

When will you gain intelligence?

For how long will the godless triumph?

Take care.

Truly, I tell you.

It's not enough to live
in the shadows of the powerful...

...to escape the wrath of The Almighty.

Servants of God...
bow your foreheads!

Kiss the dust and the grace of footsteps
of him who redeemed us all...

Otherwise, the Evil One
will rot your souls to carrion!

And the stench will have
covered the world...

...in the thick fog
of the Last Judgment.

Ourselves in the clergy...

...will not escape arbitrary mechanization
and partisan politicization.

We ourselves are orphans of love,
widowers of hope...

Widowers...

That's it, he's stuck.

I have known royalist priests,
worker priests...

...country priests,
voodoo cardinals...

Father Fuperioux,
the black bishop of Harlem...

...and to all, at least the left ones,
I always answered...

There is only one totalitarian regime
that I really fear, that of woman!

Hooray!

So much water!

And of course, sir,
you only see the top.

You did very well in the pulpit.

So... unexpected.
Jumped around a lot, but fine.

I believe that this time she'll have
accepted that I'll never see her again.

Father, despite your high degree
of culture...

...there lies dormant inside you
the naivete of youth.

You don't get rid of a woman
by political insults.

They're a-political.

With great emphasis on the "A".

- So you think she could...
- It's obvious.

- You see her...
- Absolutely.

But... tomorrow is another day.

Tell me, before you leave,
I would like to ask you...

...will you hear me
in confession?

M'Lord, it would be an honour.

I'm listening to you, my son.

Well, here it is...

It's quite complex
to formulate.

I am not here.
There's nobody.

Please excuse me, M'Lord.

You said
"it's quite complex to formulate"?

Since adolescence...

If we're constantly interrupted,
I'll never get there!

A moment, sir. I'll get rid of
the disturber and I'll get back to you.

- It's her.
- Oh women!

And to think that there are married men
who also take mistresses!

Excuse me.

Get out of here!

You don't have the right
to deny me confession.

I've a lot to tell.

The immodesty!

Calling us totalitarians!
Do I look like a totalitarian?

Shut up!

Never, and stop hiding
behind your cassock.

I'm your wife, don't forget.

- Madam, I was here before you.
- All right, I'll wait.

I don't want to confess her.

Yellow-belly!

It's alright... I'll do it.
I'll take your place.

The door!

What are you doing here?

- I've had it up to here.
- Me too.

- I'm fed up!
- Me too.

- Where's your wife?
- With the bishop.

You really have low morals.

He's confessing her, you fool!

Don't blame me, Reverend.
I don't know where I am anymore.

My wife who walks the streets to
recover her husband who's a priest...

...is not an ordinary situation,
even for a pimp.

It must be said, all the same.

Let's not talk about it anymore.

Without getting angry...

...are you sure that Rita...
won't stir up the bishop?

Because you don't know,
if right now...

...she's going into detail.

She said to me this morning...

"Monogamy... only my St Simon
can give it back to me."

You have to decide.
Have to take her back.

I may see her in misfortune,
but I answer more for myself.

I can stay very calm...
but I can also get angry.

Back in '53 on the docks,
I got angry!

I am not a Mickey type.
But if you try me, you will find me.

There will be broken wood.
There'll be the smell of death.

I'll give you a little Pearl Harbor,
a Waterloo lite.

Bullshit!

You confessed her?

Oh yes!

She must have felt relieved
to spill the beans.

She had a lot on her conscience.

I couldn't absolve her.
I would've liked to... but really!

Quite impossible.

Yes.

Impossible.

So what...?

Then...

You have to choose, Simon.

You have to make a decision.

For you, for me, for the diocese,
it can't go on.

For The Old Pirate.

My customers are laughing.
My reputation's going down the drain.

So...

So it's up to you alone.

Simon, you have to choose.

Either you take me...
and save me...

...or you leave me
and I'm lost forever.

"Deo juvante".

Open it...
I don't want to be alone with you.

Do I scare you?

Terribly.

Oh no!

My body hasn't changed, you know.
Nor my hips.

Damnation!

Nor my breasts.

It's swinging.

We're going to do an experiment.

Mercy!

Rita!

M'Lord, it's crazy, it's over.
I surrender. I return my robe.

I'm taking back my wanton wife.

An angel...

My angel.

Take it easy, Father.
You're still a priest.

It's not like Joseph in Egypt...

...that you have to make up
for lost time.

So, are you taking me back?

Oh yes!

I love you.

I'm mad about you...

...my poisonous narcotic.

I'm mad about... the organist.

Father, you have snapped.

Absolutely, M'Lord...
...and with a certain pleasure.

I tell you without lying,
I will wallow in drunkenness.

Take her away.

You think so?

Come on.

I'll wait for you at The Old Pirate.

And I'm expecting you in 8 days,
at the bishopric.

I'll be there, M'Lord.

You know experience is a lantern
we carry hung on our back...

...but which alas only lights up
the path already taken.

St Thomas.

No, Confucius.

- How's your father?
- Still has the flu.

- Your mother?
- Still coughing.

Alright.

Father?
It's late. Can I ask you a question?

Of course, my boy.

Why do you play
such beautiful music?

It's a long story...

...full of sound and fury.

Are there no lyrics?

Your music isn't sung?

No, my boy.
It can't be sung.

It's dreaming.

Hi there, seminarian!

- Father?
- Do you have a moped?

Alas no, father.

In that case, take this one. He's yours.

And entering the sepulchre, they saw
a young man seated on the right...

...dressed in a white robe
and they were seized with...

The priest!

Come along.

Wait for me.

- You're in a hurry.
- Excuse me, M'Lord.

I may have influence,
but there's serious red tape

Cardinal, apostolic
and Roman to be drafted.

All you have to do is sign here.

- On the cat?
- No, not on Mirliflore.

There.

You put "read and approved,
good for agreement” and you sign.

It's a contract for no more contract
with the Holy See.

You're released now
from any priestly obligations.

Thank you, sir.

Would you allow me
an odd question?

Anything you want.

How will I put it...

I wonder how a woman so different
in background as you...

...could fascinate you...

...because let's face it,
she's from the wrong side of the tracks.

- To be honest, she got to me.
- I thought so.

- Really?
- Really. Do you have any news from her?

Good news.
She's waiting for me.

Francisco told me on the phone
that she was as good as gold.

What strikes me as more surprising
is that she's suddenly become devout.

"O tempora, o mores."

"Sol lucet omnibus."

"Omnia vincit amor."

Amen.

Goodbye M'Lord.

Farewell, my son.

To you, the most faithful of my flock,
I need to give some explanation.

Life calls me elsewhere.

Very hard trials await me.

I ask you not to forget me
in your prayers...

...in your stations of the cross...

...and in your rosaries.

Farewell, widow Locronan,

farewell widow Planqueton,
farewell Widow Chenut.

Farewell, widow Terreneuvasse.

Here he is. It's him.

- It seems that you left the priesthood?
- Are you going to resume your concerts?

Give me a break!

- A photo, Father!
- There's no more Father.

Constable, you know what I see?

No, sergeant.

I see the priest
who silences bullfrogs.

Please, ladies and gentlemen, get out.

- Good morning.
- Did you call the press?

We did.

Well done, Mr Mickey.

It's one way of getting PR
for your waterfront brothel.

Eh, Re-tard?

Oh, must you, Father?

There's no more father.

Where's Rita?

I tell you where she is, if you
give me proof that you're a civilian.

Really?

Oh shit!

Go out, please.
Leave us.

Speak, or I'll strangle you.

- Sergeant Temporal.
- Lovely.

You wouldn't be by chance
the priest who the other night...

- That priest is dead.
- You look a lot like him.

For the last time,
where's Rita?

Station.

Which station?

On the quay, under the Ardeche
and the Lozere, just above the Herault.

What?

Did you hear that garbage?

- Who sent her there, you bastard?
- She did.

I swear she did.
She wanted to.

What for, you shit?

She was afraid to carry on,
to ruin your life.

She said she made you miserable.

She returned as a novice
in a convent.

With the Benedictines
of the little Chartreuse.

- Calm down!
- Me calm down?

I'll destroy your dive
as Carthage was destroyed.

To arms!

The trumpets of Jericho,
were a piece of cake to this.

Oh no, not my chandelier!

Ahoy there, convent!

The abbess, the boss, the doorkeeper?

Where is she?

Rita!

Simon.

I did it for you...
only for you.

Listen to me, Rita,
I'm going to Brest...

...and I'll have it off with every girl
in the port till you come back to me.

Not one will escape me!

Simon, what you saw at the Old Pirate,
it was not true.

I don't want to know!

It was to scare you,
to make you come back.

I'll have it off with them all!

Get out, you sex maniac!

- I'm going, bitch!
- Simon!

I love you. Take me away.

- You will be faithful to me.
- I swear to you.

Please don't swear.

I'll be faithful to you.
I'll follow you everywhere.

In this case...

Excuse me.

Subtitles by FatPlank for KG