La Poison (1951) - full transcript

WRITTEN AND DIRECTED,
OF COURSE, BY THE AUTHOR

THE FILM IS ENTITLED LA POISON

ALSO WITH...

Since you kindly asked me
for a dedication,

here it is.

"Michel Simon, this film offers me"

"one of my greatest
joys from the theater,"

"because I can't keep
from calling it theater."

"You'd never acted for me before."

"You're exceptional, even unique."

"Between the moments when you're you
and when you start to act,"



"it's impossible to find the bridge."

"It's the same when you stop acting
and become yourself"

"to such a degree that
there's no reason to stop shooting."

"You belong among the greats:"

"Frederic Lemaitre, Sarah Bernhardt,
my father, Zacconi and Chaliapin."

"Like them,
you stand apart and are isolated."

"Like them,
you possess that precious virtue"

"that can't be acquired nor passed on,"

"a flair for theater,"

"meaning the talent
to share with others"

"feelings you yourself don't have."

"You're not an actor
who surrounds himself with a troupe."

"You're not an actor who teaches,"

"because what is so wonderful about you"



"can't be learned
and certainly can't be taught."

Louiguy, you have a miraculous gift.

The tunes you compose
go in one ear but not out the other.

Lucienne Delyle,
I'm delighted you're singing them.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

Jean Debucourt and Jacques Varennes.

Varennes, you act so well,

it's as if you were
at the Comedie-Francaise.

Debucourt, you act so well,
it's as if you weren't.

Jeanne Fusier-Gir.
- Sacha.

I can't imagine

a play or film of mine
without you being in it.

That's how it is.

Here's your son, Francois Gir,
my assistant.

- I'm charmed, sir.
- Ad vitam aeternam.

Madam Reuver, you created
Crainquebille with my father.

That's why I gave you
the female lead in my film,

and that's why you played it so well.

Here's my Pauline on the prison set.

Pauline Carton.

We've known each other for 20 years.

I keep wondering which I admire more:

your talent or your intelligence?

The set was built
to my specifications and is perfect.

Bye, Pauline.
- Good-bye, sir.

Duvaleix.

Henry Laverne.

Bever.

Jacques de Feraudy.

Leon Walther.

I warn you.

If you had less talent,

I'd still be your friend.

Jacques Derive. Max Harry.

Louis de Funes.

A hundred bravos, a hundred thanks.

Luce Fabiole. Yvonne Hebert.

Miss Arnold.

Miss Quantin.

Poirier. Mercier.

Dalibert.

Dejean. Nastorg.

Amato. Eymond.

Belly.

Will you all be in my next film?
- Yes!

Maria Fromet.

You acted so well. Thank you.

Thank you.

Hello, Suzanne Dantes,

Jacques Morel and Mr. Toscane.

We only hear you in the film,

so we won't see you in the credits.

But at least you get
the thanks you deserve.

Robert Dumesnil, as set decorator,

you've every right to a decoration.

Film editing is a delicate job.

Raymond Lamy, you're a master at it.

Chief cameraman Jean Bachelet,

later people will say
you invented relief photography.

Odette Lemarchand,

let me call you my script lady.

Sound engineer Fernand Janisse,

you recorded everything,
so add my gratitude to it.

Irenee Leriche, company manager.

Robert Christides, costumer.

Cameramen Rene Ribault
and Gustave Raulet.

And Robert Sussfeld,
production manager.

You have all my thanks.

To you all, without whom
I'd have done nothing,

always good-natured and always helpful,

let's drink together
to the health of those dear to us.

Mrs. Michon, you're the only one I allow
to look at my prescription book.

It doesn't hurt a soul,
and it fascinates me.

So I see. I wonder why?

It's just an idea I once had.

Lord knows, I know all
my fellow citizens.

I made my mind up
about them years ago.

But it amuses me

to find proof for what I always thought.

- And that's the proof?
- And how!

What with all the gossip
and rumors going around,

who knows what's what?

I agree.

But this is true and unquestionable.

Read the remedy
and you know what's wrong.

A remedy's words can say a lot.

Here, just take Mrs. Clement
on St. Jacques Place.

"Aspirin, aspirin..."

So head-achy.

It's obvious why she looks so crabby.

And the mailman. "Varicose ulcer."

It's no wonder we get
our morning mail in the afternoon.

Anthropometry can be helpful,

but this is more instructive
and conclusive

than a jutting jaw or
a receding forehead.

"Mercuric cyanide." That says it all.

But it's not his fault.

No, but father of four,
that's his fault.

"Paul Braconnier: phenobarbital."
- He can't sleep.

With that wife of his?
I'm not surprised.

Herb tea for Father Metivet.

For his liver.

A priest with liver trouble?
That's not good.

"Calomel, calomel..."

He needs it.

Your pencil. I want to make notes.

Hello, Father.

How are you, my friend?

Not very good.

It's my wife.

- What's she done?
- She exists.

- You chose her.
- That's no answer, Father.

Remember the day we got married?
She's no longer the same woman.

She's 30 years older.

It's not that. You can be 52
and not look like a barrel.

Haven't you changed too? Be fair.

Yes, I'm 30 years older,

but I don't drink three bottles
of wine a day

or bellow all day long.

I don't break the dishes.

And even if I'm 53, I wash my feet.

Meaning?

I put them in water and use some soap.

I thought it might be a saying.

And she doesn't do the same?

Her? Every two months.

Yet she sees me wash mine
each week like everybody.

Isn't that her?

Look at her. A real sausage.

She goes to confession?
- Never.

Pity. 'Cause maybe you
could talk to her.

A priest can't advise his flock
to wash their feet.

Aside from that,
you could make her see...

- What?
- You're right.

Make her see she's in the way
and ought to go to hell.

You've got imagination.
- A little, maybe.

So, you're in bed.

You see that coming toward you.

I have less imagination than you think.

Sure, but I mean,

man to man, you should understand me.

I do.

I hope you don't talk about her
this way to just anybody.

Of course not.

Too many gossips.

- If anything happened...
- They'd say I did it to her.

Don't worry. I'm careful.

I came to you
'cause you're not just anybody.

At times you want
to say certain things out loud

'cause when you talk to yourself,
you can easily go too far.

It's very dangerous, 'cause plans
that are well made in secret

can come true without any trouble.

I don't know what you're referring to,

but you seem to be talking
to yourself and going too far.

- Mrs. Michon.
- Mr. Chevillard.

- Things okay?
- Fine. You?

Too much.

- May I?
- I wrote it down.

Paregoric.

How'd you know?

That's why I wanted to check
my notes and I've finished.

In our town, 30% are...

and 70% are constipated.

That explains it.
- Explains what?

The provinces!

There she goes.

Shopping...

Going to the pharmacy.

- She's ill?
- Not a chance!

Come now.

I was just in your shop

to buy some muslin.

I don't have any right now.

So your daughter told me.

- Calomel.
- Worm powder.

Laxative.

What'll it be, Mrs. Braconnier?

Some rat poison, Mr. Gaillard.

- A lot?
- Several doses.

I'll give you a pound.

It's like having an aversion to someone.

It's worse than that.

- It's not hatred.
- It is.

You're pretending to be meaner
than you really are.

You don't want her to die?

I was going to pray for you tonight.

Are you going to make me pray for her?

Is your rat poison good?

- How do you mean that?
- In the right way.

Then it's very, very good.

And some wives cheat.

Envy is a sin, my son.

That's enough to kill ten people.

Not ten. Seven.

How's Mr. Braconnier?

Like an oak.

He'll outlive us all.

How kind of you. What do I owe you?

- You okay?
- Fine.

- What's wrong?
- No idea.

- Is something wrong, Paul?
- No, everything's fine.

Time for my soup.

Bye, everybody.

See you tomorrow.

See you.

See the time?

I see it.

Bastard.

Old cow.

Mrs. Braconnier yelled for her husband.

If he'd slap her at times,
that'd teach her a lesson.

If your late husband
had slapped you at times...

He did. And it'd do others some good.

Christian charity.

Can't you get a move on?

...will soon unfurl

The turtledove coos
to his turtle-love

We'll love each other always

The finch repeats what
the turtledove said

And the wagtail makes it a song

And life is a ball

What are these sweet murmurs

We hear all daylong?

Up among the branches

It's the song of love

For the roses are budding

Their petals will soon unfurl

The turtledove coos to his turtle-love

We'll love each other always

The finch repeats

What the turtledove said

And the wagtail makes it a song

And life is a ball

Let's follow their example

For you are here with me

I'll be the turtledove
and you my turtle-love

Why don't we fall in love?

For the roses are budding

Their petals will soon unfurl

The turtledove coos to his turtle-love

We'll love each other always

The finch repeats what
the turtledove said

And the wagtail makes it a song

And life is a ball

Ladies and gentlemen, you're
listening to a new dramatic comedy

by Jean-Michel Vinclair
and Paul Henri Marchepied.

Starring Anne-Marie Metavy

and Jean Victor Cabanel.

Directed by Albert Leon Fromajon.

Sound effects: Louis Alphonse Raphael.

Script-girl: Jeanne Patricia Nevraco.

Producer: Patrick Antoine Decourt.

Produced by Armand Justin Toupinel.

No, that'd be too easy.

I won't put up with such behavior.

Don't expect me to forgive you.

There's an age for forgiving,
and I'm 30. Remember?

Don't be surprised by my rigidity.
Why'd I ever marry you?

So I'd serve you!

But starting life over
wouldn't frighten me at all!

- Wretch!
Imbecile!

- Sneak!
- You're conceited! Cruel!

- Your breakfast, Father.
- Thanks, my child.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 9

Already!

Some villagers to see you, Father.

Send them in.

Please come in.

Sit down.

Go ahead.

Please forgive us, Father,

but we're here sort
of like a delegation,

the ladies and I, with a request.

Take the floor, Mrs. Poitrinot.

All us shopkeepers, for months
we've wondered what we could do

to give a little boost to our village.

A boost?

We're not well located.
That's the trouble.

That's the trouble?

If we were on the Evreux road,
business would be better.

Indeed, ladies,

but I can't move our little town.

Of course.

Even so,
you could do the town a big favor.

- A big favor?
- Draw some attention to us.

- Attention?
- What attracts attention?

- And newspapers?
- And visitors from Paris?

Visitors.

The discovery of a treasure that's...
What kind?

Gallo-Roman.

An accident with five or six dead.

Five or six dead?

Something unexpected.

Unexpected?

One of us could have quintuplets.

Something extraordinary.

In other words, a miracle.

That's the word, Father.

A miracle.

So that on the Evreux road we could
put an arrow pointing to Remonville.

- An arrow?
- But for that,

we'd need something extraordinary.

Extraordinary?

So, I had an idea.

See my daughter, Father?
- I know her.

Yes, but look at her closely.

You see?
- Not at all.

Go outside, honey.

She's very... slow.

So?

Like all such kids,
she believes what she's told to believe.

So?

We thought of the big
success at Lisieux.

Work a miracle on her.
It'd be wonderful.

- You're joking?
- No, Father.

If you're serious, that's even worse.

I promise you, I really do,

to pray to the Lord
for a miracle in Remonville.

Thank you, Father.

Scandalous.

They're believers.

Is the priest from here?

He's from everywhere.

Still?

May I take refuge with you,
Mrs. Tiberghen?

Please do.

- 7:00. Dinner is served.
- Thank you.

Not at all, Father.

In the evening, it's terrifying.

I go home at the very last minute.

The radio saves us
from having to talk to one another.

Without it, something awful might
already have happened at home.

It's nice to know
a radio can be good for something.

But I thought things had improved
for you at home.

On the contrary. It's horrible with her.

At times I think
maybe I should blow my head off.

What an idea!

Her look, her hands, her voice.

All she does and says.
Even her silence and her sleeping.

Now you be quiet.

What did he say to make you say,
"Be quiet"?

Awful things about his wife.

He sees her worse than she is.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we spoke with lawyer Louis Aubanel
as he went home.

Quick, you're on!

The famous defense lawyer
gladly accepted

our improvised interview because,

along with his friends and clients,

we want to celebrate
his 100th acquittal.

Today was your 700th, night?
- Yes, my 700th.

- In 20 years?
- Yes.

May I ask you to explain

such extraordinary,
almost fabulous, success?

As a youth,

I felt there was a basic difference

between assassins and murderers.

You have a lovely voice, darling.

Assassins don't interest me.
Murderers fascinate me.

First time you've ever heard yourself?

I don't understand
this "basic difference."

I don't really have the time
to explain it,

but perhaps this will
help you see better.

Among criminals,
there are more murderers than assassins.

Among murderers, there are more
doers of justice than we think.

That's horrible.

A man kills his son-in-law.

A wife kills her husband.
A husband kills his wife.

Are they assassins? No.

The disappearance of their victims
makes them henceforth inoffensive.

Just let me add that
most murders are actually duels.

The one justice calls the murderer,

I call the victor.

You let them listen to
such monstrosities?

You should have seen her at 17

- What's that?
- The radio.

The sweetest gal you've ever seen

- Time for bed.
- Go on.

And her papa raised her

With a kick in the behind

- I like that!
- Me too!

I wish I weren't such a coward.

Damn it!

Hey, hothead, you comin'?

No, I'm busy.

Busy.

Asshole.

I wish he'd drop dead.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 10

I gotta go to Paris.

- When?
- In a day or so.

What for?

To see a new power plow.

I'll get an early train
and be home in time for dinner.

Since we agree on the fundamentals,

may I ask how much I'll owe you
for defending my case?

- 300,000 francs.
- Perfect.

Let me ask you a question.

Go right ahead.

Why did you choose me
to be your lawyer?

Because I think you're exceptional.
Unique.

A phenomenon.

You've had 100 acquittals, right?

For 20 years,

haven't you saved from the guillotine
some of our worst criminals?

And I'm proud of it.

Since you recognize
my rather unusual talent,

my question is even more necessary.

Why have you, an indirect victim
of the crime, chosen me?

The known assassin is behind bars.
She doesn't deny it.

Her crime hurt you.
You're more than innocent.

As my lawyer, I've chosen one who is
a recognized defender of the guilty.

Why?
- Yes, why?

Because I hate the little slut
who killed my brother-in-law.

As the plaintiff, I
feared only one thing:

that you would be her lawyer.

But with you as her lawyer's adversary,

I am at ease.

Now I'm sure she'll be sentenced.

That's exactly why
I want 48 hours to think this over.

Yes, what you've just said
is what I was afraid of.

As the adversary of her defense,

my presence by your side
could be detrimental,

if not fatal, to her. I dislike that.

But she's a criminal.

Yes, but even if she has only one
chance, she has her right to it.

May I have 48 hours to think it over?

Gladly.

I'll see you out.

Have you decided to say no to me?

Frankly, not yet.

But having always defended the accused,

I hesitate to proclaim the opposite
of what I've said the past 20 years.

I understand.

Nevertheless, I can promise you...

that if I say no to you,
I will not act as her defense.

Thank you.

Nice candlesticks.

An arsonist gave them to me.

Who rang a moment ago?

A man who won't give his name.

He's quite nervous
and begs to talk to you.

A man who doesn't want
to see the police.

I have that impression.

I'll see him in a moment.

Dear sir...

I do not need 48 hours to tell you

that, to my deepest regret...

I am unable to assist
you in this affair.

Please don't be upset with me...

as I shall most certainly keep

the promise that I made to you.

With best regards...

I'll sign that,
and you can deliver it tonight.

Send in our nameless man.

Please sit down.

I'm listening.

I killed my wife.

- When?
- Last night.

How?

You stabbed her with a knife?

Yes.

I should've used poison?
- I never said that.

- I thought a knife's better...
- It's better.

Poison means premeditation.

I thought so.

- So it was premeditated?
- What?

Her death.

I'm not a judge.

True.

You can't say it was premeditated.

- It just happened?
- Right.

But you said, "A knife's better."

You said that.

What?

- You asked if I'd stabbed her.
- You said yes.

Yes, but the knife was your idea.

Ridiculous.

I'm saying this badly.
Should I have killed her differently?

Never. It's done.

So I did it right.

That's what I said.

I wasn't sure I'd understood.

Forgive me for being so finicky.

Crime is your business,

so you're used to dealing with killers.

It's my first killing.

So I'm a little panicky.

I wanted to know if I'd fouled up
or should've taken some precautions.

That's why I'm questioning you.

So you're not upset about what I said?

No, let's continue.

But when you said "premeditated,"
that made my ears prick up!

Forget I said it.

But you'd been thinking about that idea.

I'd been fed up for months.

That's fine.

You're older?
- By one year.

Did she drink?

A lot?
- Too much.

She slept around?

I'm not sure.

You thought so, but had no proof.

Exactly.

- You felt she'd betrayed you?
- Right.

It's painful, but I need to know
any attenuating circumstances.

Obviously.

- She cheated?
- I'd bet my life on it.

- Avoid those words.
- Yes.

- Let's return to the knife.
- Gladly.

But first, why did you choose me
to be your lawyer?

You'd heard my name?

I learned about you
the other night on the radio.

The things you said really impressed me.

When they mentioned
your 100th acquittal,

I said, "He's my man!"

Would you have killed her
without hearing that interview?

Maybe not.

The knife...

Go ahead.

You tell me.

Of course! Sorry.

You stabbed her?

Once. That's good?

It's better for you, and her.

- More accidental.
- We'll see.

Where'd you stab her?

The stomach?
- Yes, the stomach...

I didn't really look.

- She's dead?
- Sure!

Don't worry.

- Why are you still free?
- Nobody knows it yet.

Maybe now,
but not this morning when I left.

Address?

Remonville.

Jean-Jaures Place.

Name?

Paul Louis Victor Braconnier.

Your occupation?

Braconnier's my name.

I'm a gardener.

Your financial worth?

700,000.

- What?
- 700,000.

- She knew?
- More or less.

Money-hungry?

By the way, you must charge a lot
for a case like mine.

- We'll talk later.
- Sure.

- Your age?
- Fifty-three.

- Married for?
- Thirty years.

- Police record?
- No.

No theft or...

On the contrary.

- And where was the knife?
- In her belly.

Before that.

It was there, like that.

- On the table?
- On the table.

You didn't find it in a drawer?

She'd set the table?

She always does. I mean, did.

She'd never tried to kill you?

Not to my knowledge.

Did she buy a gun recently?

- It'd help?
- Obviously.

Unfortunately, no.

Too bad.

So last night she was drunk?
- Yes.

Any witnesses to her drunkenness?

Certainly.

Not to claim self-defense,

but did she ever threaten you?

Yes.

She often said,
"Why don't you drop dead?"

Not a nice thing to say.

True, but it's not a real threat.

An action would be better.

- With a tureen?
- A soup tureen?

A big tureen aimed at my head.

- She threw it?
- Yes!

- When?
- Last night.

That's fine!

Just before she got stabbed.

A reflex! Or self-defense.

You took the knife
because of the tureen.

The table separated us.

She bent forward
and sort of knifed herself!

That's it.

It's funny.
- What is?

The way you reconstruct things.

It must be due to your experience.

I hope I have everything.

Don't wait for them to arrest you.

Turn yourself in at once.

At once.

When you get home.

Six hours later, name me as your lawyer,

but don't talk.

Only in my presence.

I'll see you out.

Where will you be jailed?

Probably in Evreux.

It's not too bad.

- You've been in there?
- Only as a lawyer.

And the conversation we just had?

Might never have taken place.

All right.

- Shall I recopy your notes?
- No, I'll do it.

- Interesting case?
- Easy.

Even banal,
but the man's quite extraordinary.

A rather captivating monster

with unusual charm.

It's something both
fanciful and clownish.

Another appointment?

Not that I know of.

The public prosecutor.

You said I'm here?
- Yes, sir.

Show him in.

Hello, my friend.

Sir, I must say
I'm delighted by your visit.

It shows how concerned I am about you.

But I didn't want it
to be an official call.

Seeing you at my office
would attract attention.

Besides, at 5:00 I'm seeing Mrs. de
Montgeron just across the street,

so I stopped here first.

And I came to say...

as cordially and privately as possible

something quite disagreeable.

Your radio interview
the night before last

had the worst effect imaginable.

Some repeat what you said.

Others distort what you said.

But what's done is done.

Yet be on the alert.

The 100 acquittals
you're so rightly proud of

made you many enemies at the bar.

You don't care, and I understand that.

But your unexpected reasoning,
which at times is paradoxical,

could lead to unfortunate consequences.

Which ones? I'll tell you.

I saw Bercholde this morning.

We both tend to think

the fine line you draw
between murderer and criminal

could trouble certain minds.

Forgive me, but I don't acquit anyone.

I don't disapprove of the acquittals.

Luckily for me.

But I disapprove of your tone
when answering me.

We're not in court. We're in your home.

Forgive me.

Gladly, because I admire your talent.

However...

maybe I haven't made myself clear.

When I said
your reasoning troubles people,

I didn't mean judges nor juries,

but the countless potential murderers

who listen to debates, read the papers

and hold you to their hearts.

I speak not as a lawyer, but as a man,

a friend who wonders if your eloquence,

which is so exceptional
and at times special,

doesn't actually encourage crime.

Yes!

Who can be sure
that one day some fool won't say,

"I'll kill my father, mother or daughter

and get Aubanel to defend me?"

A woman jokingly said it
last night at the opera.

- Please!
- I agree.

Nevertheless, she said it.

Thanks to your interview? I can't say.

There were five of us
in my box discussing it.

- She said that?
- She said:

"With Aubanel around, why worry?
I'll buy a gun tomorrow."

Sorry, but I must go in two minutes.

Don't be upset by what I've just said.

I have no ulterior motives, believe me.

Coming up the stairs,
I passed a man who'd just left here.

Who was he?

An assassin? A murderer?

He spoke of your interview?

Yes.

So was I wrong?

What should I do?
Help to sentence one out of two?

Of course not.

No more interviews, I promise.

But that day we were celebrating...

Your 100th victory.

As playwrights say, it was your 100th,

but a courtroom isn't a theater.

And none of those concise phrases
that made your reputation

but are so dangerous,

such as when you speak
of certain murderers

whom you classify as "accidental."

You say, "An assassin is often
just a thief who's been disturbed."

Don't try to pardon robbery.

Want me to wear a false beard
and plead cases under an alias?

The new lawyer would
be famous in a month.

Then we'd have two instead of one.

You'd best not.

Aubanel.
- Sir.

A plaintiff in a criminal case
comes to you tomorrow

and wants your help.

What would you do?

- Accept.
- Good.

I'll come to hear you plead the case.

Aubanel getting an assassin condemned.

Unless at the last minute
I lose my head and start defending him.

You love assassins
and thieves that much?

Not like the public.

If newspapers didn't write about crime,

they'd lose half their readers.

But killing is so vile.

Yes, but it means a living
for so many people.

You sleep on the floor now?

What a drunk.

Mind your own business.

I suppose you want to eat.

No, but I'm thirsty.

Again.

More.

Go buy some if you want more.

I'm saving this for me.

Aren't you drunk enough?

I'm never drunk enough
to forget your face.

You forgot me while I was gone.
You had some fun, eh?

Some fun?

Who'd I have fun with?

Your guy...

Guy? What guy?

Never mind. I know.

- You mean Jules Martinet?
- Right!

Dummy. That's not even worth an answer.

Yeah, close 'em tight

so nobody can hear your nonsense.

Now he's jealous!

Of all things.

Go get the wine, stupid.

- We'll talk.
- Anytime, asshole.

The door.

Better to hoe than
wear high-button shoes

Better to give the plow a shove
than to wear white gloves

Courage.

Put three bottles on my bill.

- Okay.
- I'll pay tomorrow.

There!

Come on, bottoms up.

You're not mean, just dumb.

Can't we bury the hatchet?

Okay, stand up.

We'll clink glasses.

Sounded like a gun shot.

No. But just as bad.

- It's quiet.
- A bad sign.

- Really?
- Why?

If one's dead, why would the other yell?

Call the police?

- For nothing?
- Who knows?

They'll be makin' their rounds soon.
Let's wait.

What's happened?

Evening, Father.

We heard a bang at the Braconniers',
and now nothing.

We wondered if something was wrong,

knowin' the way they argue.

- Hadn't things been better?
- I thought so.

I'm no busybody.

So maybe we should call the police.

It's them. The police.

- Let's tell them.
- You're wrong!

Mustn't smell of wine.

Here he comes.

I just killed her.

I'm turning myself in.

Follow us.

Don't touch a thing.

And the body?
- There.

Just what happened?

I want my lawyer first.

- All right.
- What's that?

She threw the tureen at me,
from over there.

What's wrong?

Trouble at the Braconniers'.

What kind?

A killing.

Killing? I'm not surprised.
I'll be right down.

Not surprised? Why?

Drink this.

Urn help.

- Are the police there?
- Yes.

- The bitch killed him.
- No!

Yes, she did! You can believe me.

- He knows.
- He thinks Paul's dead.

'Cause he's deaf!

- He was jealous.
- Jealous?

Yeah, she had a guy.

- What guy?
- Martinet. I heard him earlier.

Of all things!

Come on.

Yes?

Give him this antidote for the poison.

Let me in. I'll explain everything.

He's crazy. An antidote
for a knife wound!

- What'd you say?
- Nothing.

Leave me alone!

Come in.

Not you!

Make him drink this at once.

She was Jules's mistress.

Excuse me.

She bought some rat poison
four days ago.

Drink this.

But she's the dead one!

- What?
- She's the dead one.

- Stabbed to death?
- Yes.

Here. Quick!

He found her with Jules and killed her!

The druggist died of an attack.

- A visitor, Braconnier.
- Visitor?

Only five minutes.

- Jules!
- Paul.

Let me hug you.

I brought you your
suit and some goodies.

We took up a collection.

Hard-boiled eggs from Mrs. Michon,

ham from Gustav,

chocolate from Ernestine

and the Swiss cheese is me.

How'd you get in here?

Germaine's brother-in-law was once
the head guard's wife's lover.

And how's the town?

Fine.

I mean, concerning me?

Fine.

Everyone likes you
'cause it's done us a lot of good.

- How so?
- For business.

You've had some good articles
in the paper.

- Good?
- The front page!

Long articles with big headlines.

With Remonville this
and Remonville that.

Photographers and cars
going through town all day

thanks to [he sign we put
on the Evreux road.

A blessing for everyone.

For example, our little cafe.

They've set up eight
more tables outside.

As for the murder house,

that's what your house is called now,

you've no idea.

- What?
- Visitors all day long.

Somebody to direct traffic.

The broken tureen's on display.

And your knife's stabbed into
a hunk of bread on the kitchen table,

with a sign, "Do Not Touch!"

It's like a relic, see?

You're really popular, Paul.

No matter what happens to you,

Remonville and its townspeople
will be grateful to you.

You can count on their gratitude.

I want nothing.

She'll put no more water in my glass

'Cause with the poison, now she's dead

Together now!

She'll put no more water in my glass

'Cause with the poison, now she's dead

We know it by heart.

- Your lawyer's here.
- At last.

You're lucky to have such a lawyer.

Aubanel will save you.

That's why I chose him.

- Had your coffee?
- Yes, thanks.

Hello, sir.
I was getting anxious to see you.

Wait till you hear this one.

She was going to poison me. Yes, indeed.

She got some rat poison
four days before the crime.

We never had any rats.

The druggist whispered it to me
just before he died

'cause he died
after he drank from my glass.

I said nothing then,

'cause you'd told me
to talk only in your presence.

But an autopsy of the druggist
will prove it!

There's the "attempted murder"
you wanted.

Aren't you pleased?

On this point, yes.

But on another point, not at all.

Let's sit down.

I want to talk quite seriously.

- Something wrong?
- Yes.

Last night I received the police report
that was written the night of the crime.

I demand an explanation.

- What about?
- About the date of the killing.

The police report states:

"We got to the scene of the crime

on Thursday, October 11 at 8:00 p.m."

- So?
- Wait.

Dr. Fromanger found

that the victim had been stabbed
in the stomach

and had died about 20 minutes earlier.

- So?
- What do you mean, "So?"

She died the night of the 11th?

What's so extraordinary?

- You saw me the day of the 11th.
- So?

You said you'd killed
her the day before,

but you only killed
her four hours later.

That changes nothing,
neither for her nor me.

It does for me!

What's the difference

whether I killed her Thursday
instead of Wednesday?

Why'd you come to me before killing her?

For two reasons.

First, to see if you'd be my lawyer.

Second, for you to tell me how to act.

Nobody could advise me better than you.

That's why I followed your instructions.

My instructions?

The knife on the table,

the thrown tureen, the jealousy tantrum.

I did it all, very scrupulously.

Scrupulously?

I didn't want you
to find fault with me later.

If I hadn't lied,
if I'd said I was going to kill her,

you'd have kicked me out the door.

By saying I'd already killed her,
I put you at ease.

And since you love crimes,

the questions you asked me
indicated how I should behave.

So you accuse me of...

No. That'd be silly.

But I do thank you for being my guide.

Guide?

The knife wasn't my idea.

I'd have poisoned her.

That's an idea from somebody
who's not in the business.

You preferred a knife. I used a knife.

But I don't understand
why you're so upset.

But what if people knew all this?

So we mustn't tell 'em. Not a word!

In this case we'll go hand in hand,
like accomplices, see?

I don't want that.

I don't see any other way for us.

What if I refuse to represent you?

That wouldn't be smart.

Why?

I'd get revenge by saying
you told me how to kill her.

I wouldn't say it to be mean,
but to save my hide.

And it'd be true.

'Cause I can tell you one thing.

I may not have killed her without you.

The truth is I hesitated
for several days.

One of us had to go.

I told Mrs. Tiberghen the florist,

"We've got
to separate somehow or other."

I'd do her in or myself in,

or I'd wait till she got rid of me.

And if I did kill her,

it's 'cause you gave me the courage
by saying you'd defend me.

It's important
to have you as a lawyer nowadays.

You get better treatment in jail

once they know you're the defense.

For them, being defended by Aubanel

means you're sure of an acquittal.

I warn you, I'll be terrible with you
if you quit on me.

You let me kill my wife, okay.

But send me to the guillotine?
That's too much.

No joking around. I'm counting on you.

And also,

if you're doing me a favor,
I'm doing one for you.

Since I've followed your instructions,

I'm handing you an acquittal
on a silver platter.

Another one. And a beauty!

Got a cigarette?

No, thanks.

- Got any matches?
- No.

Jailer.

A light.

You're hopeless.

Here.

So we're in agreement?

- Explain the rat poison.
- Gladly.

But remember, if I'd killed her
as I meant to, you'd now be saying,

"Next time, come see me first
before acting so foolishly!"

Julie Poitrinot. Jules Martinet.

Andre and Germaine Chevillard.

Father Metivet. Amelie Bertelon.

Pierrette Signore.

Victor Boidevin. Ernestine Abajou.

- We're all witnesses?
- Hurry, it's late.

Louis Cotepal. Gustav Pretendier.

Let's go!

Thanks.

Hey!

You heard your parents.
You're to do as I say.

Have fun, but don't get hurt.

Braconnier.

You've heard the accusation?

Yes, and that's all very nice.

But the main thing is missing.

It was self-defense,
and that's not mentioned.

It makes a difference.

You're saying I'm a killer,
but it won't work.

If I hadn't killed my wife,
she'd have killed me.

Blaming me for killing her equals
blaming me for not being dead.

And if I was dead,

she'd be here today in my place.

And guiltier than we are.

"We." He admits we're in this together.

And even guiltier.

Buying the rat poison
means she had premeditation.

Excuse me.

When you killed her,
you didn't know her criminal intentions.

Intentions? What a laugh.

She put rat poison in my glass,
and you call it an intention?

It's a fact.

But you didn't know that fact!

Then it's a good thing I guessed.

I saw it in her eyes.

Then I saw the knife
and grabbed it before she did.

- And you killed her.
- I defended myself.

For once,
punishment has preceded crime.

You shouldn't make a grievance
out of what could be a lesson to you.

Please.

I want to explain this point.

My wife was a killer.
We all agree about that.

By eliminating her, I only did what
you yourselves would have done.

- Be quiet!
- No!

Because that's what you're doing.

Only you're doing it too late.

You wait until someone's killed,
and then there's a trial. All right.

And someone else dies.
My system kills one less.

If I told you
my wife's going to kill me tomorrow,

what could you do? Nothing.

If I'd asked you to let me kill her
before she killed me,

you'd have said no.

I'd have been poisoned.
You'd have done nothing.

So let me tell you this.

Don't blame me for doing
your job for you.

This is insane.

It's extraordinary

to what extent committing a crime
increases one's intelligence.

Normally I'd never have been
so brilliant as I was just now.

Where'd they all go?

- Who?
- Our parents.

- To Pont-L'Eveque.
- What for?

To attend Mr. Braconnier's trial.

- The man who killed his wife?
- Right.

Lucky them!

Hands off.

You'll tell the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth?

What a question!

I'm asking it.

Then I can't say no.

And I'll swear to it like all the liars
who hung onto this railing.

No comments, please.

- Such hospitality!
- You're telling me.

- You're a shopkeeper?
- Yes, I swear.

That's enough.

A shopkeeper at your service.

- A question.
- Go ahead.

- Have you any acquaintances?
- I have no acquaintances.

- Yes.
- No.

I never cheated on my husband.

- I didn't ask.
- It wasn't clear.

- You erred.
- Of all things!

I want to know
if you think Paul Braconnier

hoped for his wife's death.

Of course.

Of course?

It's quite natural.

You heard him say it?

I wouldn't have noticed.

You wouldn't have?

Who hasn't wished
for her husband's death?

But that's just part of married life,

and no one's the worse for it.

Any wife will testify to that.

Sir, the lady's comments are monstrous.

Hypocrites.

Just as our priest can tell you.

Father, you hear our confessions.

You can't ask me to betray confessions.

No names. Don't worry, ladies.

But tell the court

that numerous parishioners wish
for their spouse's death.

- Numerous!
- But some do.

Yes, certain ones.

- Scrupulous ones.
- That's the word.

I see we agree.

What'd his wife do for him to kill her?

We wonder.

If you wonder, then it's what I think.

- What's that?
- She cheated on him.

Sure!

Where'd you learn that word?

Were you jealous?

You told me so.

Because we thought it'd look good,
but I'm not keen on it.

It even weakens my position.

Why?

Given her looks, it's unbelievable.

Let me do as I please.

- Tell them!
- I can't.

It's important.

She cheated on him with Jules!

Everyone knew it!

That's a lie!

I heard Paul complain to him about it.

I tell you, it's a lie!

Why do you deny it so strongly?

Because...

Listen, my friend,

I'd like to help ya,
but that's too much.

She didn't look... exciting?

Frankly, no.

So we all agree on that point.

Andre, Henry, Gustav, Victor, Fernand.

I ask you.
Could you have done it with my wife?

See?

Besides, I brought a picture.
Just a moment.

A picture of my wife
taken two years ago.

Show it to the gentlemen.

It's more convincing
than anything I could say.

I needn't ask if you'd ever think of...

Don't discuss this any further.

So tell me, Braconnier,

do you think you're handsome?

You admit she was ugly.

Answer my question.

You're handsome?
- No more than you.

What?

No, I'm no handsomer
than you think you are.

That's not the point.

It's not my beauty that's up for debate,
it's hers.

It's never a question
of whether a woman can or can't,

but will or won't.

And that's secondary.

But a man has to be able to.

He can't do it by closing his eyes.

I hope I'm making myself understood.

I'd rather be accused
of killing her for that

than to be called jealous,

because I value your esteem.

Will they guillotine Mr. Braconnier?

- I hope not.
- Why?

You must never wish for a man to die.

- A woman?
- No!

In your world,

when you tire of your wife,

you cheat on her
and finally get a divorce.

Not in the country.
Peasants don't get divorces.

Each waits for the other's death
to be able to start a new life.

- It can be a long wait.
- He's got a nerve!

It's unbearable!

If a son kills his papa, it's parricide?

Yes, my boy.

A mama kills her son?

It's infanticide.

- A man kills his wife?
- He's an assassin.

Last night, Papa said it's a widower.

Do you regret committing this crime?

That'll depend on you.

If I'm condemned,
I'm dead sure I'll regret it.

Acquit me, and I won't.

If I'd only wounded her
and she was well now,

I'd rather be condemned
than live with her again.

But it'd be rotten luck,
now that she's gone,

not to let me enjoy life a little.

Not a word of regret or pity.

No, sir, not one word.

So you'll know she got
the punishment she deserved.

Do you regret sentencing someone?

Certainly not. Me neither.

Have regrets?

What a buffoon.

What're you playing at?

Husband and wife. This is my knife.

That's no game to play!

I'd say even more,
if I doubted his acquittal.

Right!

Aren't you ashamed of killing her?

Let the accused rise.

Before God and man,
I sincerely and solemnly...

You're accused of killing your wife.

You're to be beheaded.

"Therefore, Paul Braconnier"...

What're they doing? They're crazy!

That's no game to play!

Acquitted!

Acquitted!