Head Against the Wall (1959) - full transcript

You nearly ran him over.

A practice run?

And you,
a practice interview?

You wouldn't be an
interesting item.

Because I'm a cross-country runner?

Because you are François Gérane.

You want an autograph?

How much do you charge?

Where do you come from?
I've never seen you.

I've often seen you.
In photos.

Age 25, son of the famous lawyer,
lone wolf, deep in trouble.



Mr. Maurice is never apt to forget
a £200 gambling debt. Your affair...

with his wife makes it still worse.

It's Gilbert who sent you?

He'll find no money for you.

I know who you are, now:

Stephanie, Gilbert's sister;
Stephanie-the-Bore.

You had to get into this...

I've waited too long.

He'd have a position...

He'd have a wife...
maybe even children...

Please stop seeing him.

I'll think it over. For the time being
I'm thinking only of money.

Going back to Paris?

Hold tight!



"The Swallow"

A queer bird.

I've tried to call you
three times this week.

My line is cut off.

Shall I introduce you?

I'd rather wait here.

How's the racing?

£200 are missing me off my feet.
It's urgent. Can you spare it?

Could you, Mother?

You're botching my grammophone!

One hundred! I'll return it!

You're alone in life?

I'm forgetting my father...

I haven't found anyone.

I'm a poor girl, you know...

I've brought Simone.

I found only £20.

Your sister is here.

Gilbert has frightened me. Will you
never stop looking for money?

My husband has grown suspicious;
I can't help you any longer.

Your new girl-friends should be
able to do something about it...

You'll manage somehow.
I adore you!

In my own home!
My whole life long...

The brief of a case...
Boutoir versus Bergeroux...

Official documents I had no right
to bring home... You knew it!

Why did you do it?

You don't know yourself!

I long hoped you'd take after me.

But you are the very image of your
mother: violent, cruel... insane!

I've also pinched money; but
that needs no explaining.

Don't move!

You wouldn't kill your own son;
you'd be heading for trouble.

A thief, an incendiary
is not my son.

The police?

You can't sue your own son.

You're a lawyer, you know it.

Every community has a way of
dealing with beasts.

Am I in a hospital?

Yes, my boy.

What hospital?

Come back to bed.

I am not in prison?

Why should you be?

Mr. Gérane, I believe...

I was expecting you.
The head doctor...

told me about you. Count
de Chambrelle, the writer.

However unsuitable these premises
may be, I am happy...

to meet here at long last,
a man of rank and quality.

Adrian! We have an extra guest.

Let me tell you
about our friends.

Let me begin from the left.
Don't stare, of course...

First, Colonel Donnadieu.

Shell-shocked in 1918. First relapse
in 1930. Second relapse in 1945.

1930?

In Morocco.

Next to him, a sham blind man;
a rare specimen

"Blind" only to see better

The sad one, with the
bundle, Hurtevent.

Wanted to be a sailor, but he
was withdrawn from service.

He never got over it.

Have some jam. As the Colonel says,
you live your death once only.

Shut up, Count! Death...

belongs to everybody!

And we won the war!

We, First Cavalry of the
Foreign Legion!

We have to eat without
the usual knives.

I don't have to learn Spanish!

I don't have to!

They are harmless, most of them.

That'll be all, old chap!
There we are...

Good day, my dear Doctor.

Colonel Donnadieu!
First Cavalry of the Foreign Legion!

Many newcomers?

The light lorry...

Where did you bed them?

In the attic.

Gérane... the boy who
loves to burn things...

How is he behaving?

He had a restless night. He thinks
he's in jail. Somewhat confused.

Bring him in.

He must have fought desperately.

He arrived under sedation;
today he's calmed down.

Doesn't look mad to me...

I don't want to hear that word!

"Mad" is derogatory and
means nothing.

A psychiatrist knows
only of sick men.

All sorts of sick men.

Probationers like you turn out as
high society psychiatrists.

An asylum has two jobs to perform:
cure the mentally ill...

and protect the community.

Protection comes first, that's
everybody's major concern.

And it's easy to manage:
you lock them in.

That's what I've learned from 30
years of psychiatric practice.

Who signed the confinement papers?

Dr. Carré... the family doctor...

Well, this way everything
is in order.

You are Mr. Gérane...

How old are you?

I am 25.

What infantile diseases?

Measels?

Scarlet fever, mumps?

And since?

Any venereal diseases?

Your profession?

No profession at 25...

What do you do in life?

I was looking for a job.

What kind of job?

Some of my friends...

What friends? Do you
meet them often?

They are my age. We
meet quite often.

Surprise-parties...

Surboums, as we call them...

Why are your hands shaking?

Heavy drinker, probably.

You didn't tell me
what job you'd like.

What schooling have you had?

Secondary. Uncompleted.

Why?

I wanted to be a painter. I went
to the Ecole des Beaux Arts.

You graduated?

I left. I wasn't interested
in outmoded methods

I see. Instability.

What did you do next?

I left home. I wanted
to manage on my own.

Fugue-prone...

How did you manage?

I didn't.

As for women...
A fiancee? No?

Any affairs?

No complaints coming; there
are plenty of girls.

But none of them stayed with you.

Didn't any of them suit you?

What do you know about it?
What are you driving at?

My father had me confined
because he hates me.

You didn't mention your mother...

She is dead.

Drowned.

Oh... accidental death...

I don't belong here,
in a madhouse!

A psychiatric hospital.

Character and behaviour troubles.

My dear boy, you need
rest and quiet.

You've led a hectic life.

One is young... so very young...

It's a happy life here. We're in
the country, lots of air...

Paris and everything
are so far away...

Stop this! It's an order!

Where did he get that saw?

He stole it from the farm.

Hello, newcomer.

You, you're a faker.

You needed shelter.

It's staying here, or...

Is it the countryside out there?

See for yourself.

The walls are still there?

An asylum in open country...

Death in the midst of life.

You sound as if one never got out.

You do get out...
then you come back.

You've been here long?

Four years.

How about breaking loose?

My only dream.

I'll break loose!

To begin with, don't say it.

All these poor people,
stricken in their love...

And you, Doctor, how do you
bear all this misery?

Just as you, Father, when you
tackle souls deep in mortal sin.

But your hell comes afterwards.

Mr. Gérane?

He's inside.

Who told you?

Word gets around.

Word got around that I am mad?

You came to make sure?

We'd like to help you.

Maybe a lawyer...

A lawyer? What could he do?

If the charge was theft, murder or
forgery, a lawyer could help.

But the charge is "insanity".

A madman isn't punished.
Nor forgiven.

He is just put away.

He is locked up.

The worst must be
the promiscuity.

No, it's the contamination.

Nobody has come to see me...
except you.

If you hadn't been alone and
miserable, I wouldn't have come.

Don't come again. It's
too depressing.

It wouldn't take much to...

To what? To make a nice
boy out of me?

To make you happier.

Visiting time is over...

Walk slowly.

You came by car?

Yes, with a friend.

If I pass the gates, it'll
have to be quick.

Can I trust you?

You were going for a stroll?

A little freedom and you see what
happens! How can we trust you?

Nobody escapes from my ward. We are
unfortunately too efficient...

And every unsuccessful attempt
makes things worse for you.

Don't be a fool!

There is no escape. I know it.

But you can't blame
me for trying.

I played the fool, I deserve to be
punished. But not a life sentence!

My dear boy, I'm not a policeman;
I'm a doctor.

Can't you understand?

What is this injection for?

Pento-Barbiturate.

We seem to be about to agree...

You played the fool?

Let's be more specific:

We burned documents that
didn't belong to us.

There was no point in
destroying that brief...

Why did we do it?
This "why"...

makes the diffrence between
the doctor and the judge.

If you can answer "why",
you are free.

If you can't, you'll have to let me
draw the obvious conclusions.

And now, relax.

Tell me everything... I am
listening... just relax.

I wanted to hurt him, to get
at all that he holds dear.

You mean your father?

You don't love him?

I loved my mother.

Where is the relation?

When she died... she could no
longer live with him.

She drowned... you told me.

That's what he says.

To some people he says that she
just fell into the pond.

To others... to me, because I was
there, he talks of suicide.

You were there? Tell me about it.

Mother and I were coming home,
after a walk.

He came towards us...

He was always making insults,
with her, because...

Why?

I don't know.

She used to scream when
he squeezed her arm.

She cried when he talked to her.

And then?

That day, they brought
me inside the house.

The maid was to keep me.

But I ran to my room and I
looked through the window.

They were returning
towards the pond.

He looked angry and threatening;
she walked by, head down.

That's all.

Later on, my father told me that
she had killed herself.

He also told me that
she was alone.

But that isn't true.

You don't remember anything...

more definitive or conclusive?

I was 8 years old, Doctor.

Shall we stay quiet now?

It's a promise, isn't it?

Only the sick dream of escaping.

Do I ever try to escape?

A clear example of
hatred for the father.

Keep him in ward.

You'd like to be in an other ward?

I want to get away.

So do I; but cured.

What do you mean by "cured"?

Wake up in my own room; dress the
way I wish; speak to people...

And walk the streets
without faring a fit.

You believe in doctors?

In Dr. Emery's ward the patients
live like normal human beings.

No uniforms, no confinement cells,
no strait-jackets...

no spying an no locked doors.

I believe you...

It's true. And there are asylums near
the sea, where you see boats...

There I'd be cured. But only if
Dr. Emery would take care of me.

Why doesn't he?

No free room in his ward...

I'd like to see the match.

Go ahead. I'll see to this.

Interested in sports?

I used to race on motorcycles.

Now I run along the walls
of my ward.

You know Dr. Emery?

I've been told he takes an interest in
his patients. Not like Dr. Varmont.

He isn't as bad as that.
He has his problems.

Do your friends visit you here?

A girl. She comes every week.

You're engaged?

I met her too late: just the day
before I was brought here.

Good afternoon, Dr. Emery.

I saw the aviary. What colour
did you choose?

Blue.

Still no room for me?

No room at all...

What's going on?

It's a children's game.

Here it's a method to teach
them to live as a community.

Every man moves because of the others

Look now: they'll unlink hands.

As soon as they stop forming
a chain they are alone.

They are lost.

Here you have the bar.

Music, lively colours...

It's always the same object:

The sick mind must acquire
an interest in life.

You are the head doctor; what do
you think of these new methods.

Obviously the "free asylum", or
the so-called free asylum...

is an interesting idea.

Most interesting, for jounalists.

Unfortunately, insanity is a problem
publicity can't solve.

You'd better interview Dr. Emery.

He's quite talkative
on the subject.

Go deep into it,
if you can.

Allowing for financial difficulties...

the results can now be
considered conclusive.

We have to face ill-will...

and stubborn prejudice. But
we are on the right track.

What's this?

Clay modelings by patients at
various stages of their cure.

They begin with a globular lump;
always a globe, the Earth.

Next they model animals,
then a composite...

of beast and man: a centaur,
a sphinx, a sort of faun...

When they model men,
are they cured?

No. The last stage appears
to be symbols of life:

A baby in a cradle...

Fruits in a basket...
Flowers in a vase...

Trees, upright in a garden...

Tell me about yourself.

I've told you everything.

I only know you live alone.

I've lived alone a long time.

You like your job?

In the beginning it was more
difficult; and more interesting.

And now it bores you?

I am never bored.

I am. When you're not here.

Not only because of the asylum;
everything bored me before.

Tell me! Will you wait for me?

You can leave this place
when you want to do so.

I called your father. He's the only
one who can help you.

You don't know him.

If I'd let him, he would love to be here and watch
me suffer, as he used to do with my mother.

I don't want to see him.

A penny for your thoughts.

I'm looking at the walls,
so I can remember better.

Why? Won't you ever
come back?

You don't want to understand. You go on talking about your life, but you do nothing to change it.

I don't believe in anything!

He who believes in nothing,
leaves everything in its place.

If you hadn't given up everything, you
wouldn't have destroyed your father's files.

Agreeing to see him now would
be like cheating for you.

Nobody ever talked
to me like that.

Then you've never been loved.

That girl's meddling
was quite unnecessary.

I've been waiting for
you to call me.

I had to think things over.

Will you forgive me the harm
I did to you that night?

My poor boy, it wasn't the worst.

I have endured so
much already...

Can you have me set free?

The Doctor has hopes, great hopes.

You will certainly be cured.

Everybody has his wild moments.

You steal from your father.

You ransack his home;
you disgrace him; you hit him.

You hit him! "A wild moment"!

I never had such wild moments.

I ask your forgiveness.

I'll cause no more trouble;
please have me set free.

I love this girl. And she loves me.
She spoke to you.

Girls again!

My poor boy, all your affairs
never did you any good.

I remember the evenings when I was
teaching you the secrets of Law...

You never really listened.

All of a sudden you used to stand up:
some girl was waiting for you...

I remember too. You were
plaintiff claiming damages.

You had managed to have
a man sentenced to death.

And the same night,
with the same passion,...

you explained how that man
could have been saved.

Living in a community is
like playing a game.

To win, you must know the rules.

I wanted to teach you the secrets;
you refused to listen.

You never understood me.

That's true.

I was afraid of what
I'd understand.

Still unamenable!

Even here! Even when I come to see
you with the best of intentions!

You'd dishearten a Saint!

Can we still hope to see
him free soon?

It's up to him.

And we know it, don't we?

Hey! That's the door
towards free life!

I thought... I hoped that
he was getting better.

May I ask a question?

What happened the day
your wife died?

Has he talked about it?

A little. I had to inquire
into his childhood.

What did he tell you?

Nothing much. he was only
a child, I believe.

My wife drowned.

That I know.

An unfortunate heredity, isn't it?

Of course. They held an inquest?

Questioning... a post-mortem...

After any suicide,
slander is unavoidable.

The most respectable people have
to bear it. You know how it is.

Of course.

No action was brought up.

That's fine. I'm glad for you, Sir.

I'm sorry I revived such
painful memories.

I'm curious, my nature.

So am I. Professionally.

We wait till tomorrow?

You feel sure? There's also
the key to the cottages.

His keys open all the cottages.

But not the main gate.

No. The cottages only. Let's go!

The keys!

I have them.

To the left!

We're free!

Take care of him.

The madman!

He's escaping!

Yes, Varmont, it's easier to
punish than to cure.

But punishing cures nothing.

Meaning what?

This attempt to escape, for instance.

What attempt? You mean Gérane?

Everything is in order now.

After he was shot down.

Just a scratch.

I can't be blamed if
there's a panic...

every time a madman escapes.

I understand that panic,
even though I deplore it.

For 30 years I've passed every
day of my life among lunatics.

Believe me: few can be cured,
and all of them are dangerous.

How about an experiment, Varmont?

Let me take care of that boy;
it'll be good riddance for you.

Let you have Gérane? He is
the one you'll never have!

Why?

As you know, some mental diseases...

are easy to diagnose.

They are often more
spectacular than serious.

And there are the other cases, that
we know nothing definite about.

Gérane for instance?

I believe so.

In other words, you are afraid I'll
cure him with too much ease?

I'm afraid you don't
believe he's ill.

I don't choose my patients any more
than you choose yours.

Your pretensions to apostleship
somewhat frighten me.

I'm no apostle; I haven't
got the time.

My job is to protect society,
with the means at my disposal.

That's the job of the police.

Aren't you worried by the
120.000 mental cases in France?

With decent means, insanity is
easier to cure than tuberculosis.

Let's stop pretending.

Do you really believe our patients
can be cured by any treatment?

At least I don't let sane
men be contaminated.

Let's at least deliver
them from fear!

Every day, prematurely freed madmen
kill, rape or burn houses.

Every day men die in asylums.

Yes: when I doubt, I'd rather
let them out not quite cured...

than risk killing them by
keeping them locked up.

You purvey the world with criminals!

Worse than that: you are yourself
a criminal by proxy!

That's the difference between us:
you don't need any proxy.

Let's wait till one of them wreks
your home and kills your children!

In the meantime, don't expect me to
hand any of my patients over to you.

They are mine and I'll
take care of them.

Come on, children!

I'll never manage to be
in Dr. Emery's ward.

Varmont clings to his patients.

If he didn't, they'd all leave.

He who really wants to leave
can never be held back.

Boats... There are boats
putting out to sea...

Boats run by men...
They move on slowly...

There are other boats...
Nobody controls them...

These move on faster...

To the bottom...

Out of confinement?

I'll be out tomorrow.

I'll still break loose.

A rope!

You leave ropes around!

You forget that they are sick!
They aren't boy-scouts!

Poor chap! He was the nicest
of all our patients...

Never starting fights...
Always accepting his fate...

Is it my fault? Say it! It is my
fault! I'm a slave-driver!

Am I too hard with them?

Last year, with 800 patients, only
3 suicides. Nothing to blush about!

I didn't invent the methods I use.

I invented mine.

What a plague...

And to top it all...

it's said I give
too much freedom!

It's all clear to you?

The wall is lower there. Breast the
bar and you're in the open.

And the clothing?

You'll find it, hidden
near the corner.

Keep in the woods until dark.

Don't forget they'll all
be out to find you.

I'll take care of that.
You don't want to come?

In here I'm safe. If I get out
they'll murder me.

What's the address?

He's a friend; he'll give you a job.

Mr. Tony, please.

Call Mr. Tony.

He's all right? He's
happy in his ward.

If he ever comes out...

It'll be an easy job; you'll sell
chips, like that boy there.

You don't look enthusiastic.

I had expected better.

Escaped from an asylum, you can't
be too greedy; think of the police.

All set for tomorrow?

You'll need a bed.

I have a girl friend.

Look out: they'll be
waiting for you there.

You can sleep here.

They let you out...

May I come in?

You've had your dinner?
No.

Since when are you free?

Since today.

And you came here
straight away...

What a small place you've got!

Large enough to live alone in.

What are your plans?

I have a job in a sort
of gambling hall.

That's not a job for you.

Just for a few weeks;
I need time.

I might travel a little...

Leave France...

You sound as if you were running
away... Did you run away?

We are looking for Mr. Gérane.

He isn't here.

You'll surely be hearing
from him.

We'll be coming back.

You ran away?

I will not go back!

I will not spend my life, my only
life, behind those walls!

Relax. They left.

They'll come back. But I'll
be far away by then.

When you're alone, you have to dream
up a life, if you want to survive.

But to dream is to cheat again.

I'm not a dream!

Whatever you wish,
we'll do together.

There's no future for a runaway.

He runs from light.
He runs from people.

He never feels at home.

Some day he inevitably gets caught.

Alone, you'd be caught.

Escaping seems no big deal
when one has nothing at all.

I would soon be deprived of that
feeling if I took you with me.

I can accept the hardships, the fear.
I don't want to share them with you.

I don't want you to live like that.

The pace was set the
first day we met.

I'll always be with you.

Goodbye, my love...