Arch of Triumph
- APPROVED
- Year:
- 1948
- 120 min
- 203 Views
The winter of 1938
was one year before the beginning
and Paris was still an island of light
in the darkness of Europe.
And everywhere, men saw
the new European citizen...
the refugee.
And on the streets,
political refugees rubbed shoulders
with the refugees from life.
And no one cared
if these men and women lived or died.
So history prepared the end of an era
and the beginning of our times.
Your friend's escaped.
Halt!
Sybil Fildorf.
She had nothing to do with it.
Sybil Fildorf.
Was never in my confidence.
- Sybil Fildorf.
- I scarcely know her.
Sybil Fildorf!
- What happened on the road?
- I don't know.
You don't know, you don't know.
Tell me what you know.
She knows nothing.
There is nothing to know.
She will know.
Crack.
- You know.
- I don't know.
Yes.
Oziri zigarette.
They're gold-tipped.
You have given us unnecessary trouble.
Ja, she's dead.
You're quite right.
She did not know.
Is a pity.
My apologies.
Your bill, sir.
Certainly.
This raid,
the police pick up this fellow Polyanski
in some bistro.
He told them where he lived.
No, no, no, no.
Madam Favier was able to get them
all down to the cellar.
Ah, good evening, Colonel.
Dr. Ravic.
Good evening.
Good evening.
Let us play game of billiards, eh?
Police will probably be
busy upstairs for some time.
All right.
- Name?
- Mueller.
You keep out of this.
Name?
Polyanski.
Vladislav Polyanski?
Didn't you know this man had no papers?
I wasn't on the desk when he registered.
Alois, if you ever let another person
register without papers...
Never mind that.
This isn't your first offense.
I'm sorry, but this time,
you'll get six months
before we deport you.
Next time, it'll be worse.
It's the law.
I saw Haake.
Again?
Uh, are you sure?
Yes.
Did he see you?
No.
Do you think he would recognize you
if he did see you?
He thinks I'm dead.
Lucky for your friends at home.
He recognized Krauss.
Krauss has no friends left.
Ghosts.
I thought I would be over this by now.
Eh. One never is.
I am still waiting
That's my dream.
Everybody in this room has his dream.
Rappaport, over there,
he dreams they are pulling out
his fingernails again.
Krings dreams they are chasing him down
Unter der Linden.
He runs and runs,
Schultz,
his friends call him The Bird of Death.
He dreams of the next disaster.
He left Berlin two weeks
before Hitler came to power.
before the Nazis came in.
My dream is Sybil's face
after they had finished with her.
She couldn't tell them anything
because she knew nothing.
She was not in my confidence.
She meant no more to me
than a beautiful painting.
They expected her to crack,
but she didn't crack.
She let them kill her,
right before my eyes.
Haake killed her.
She had a world of courage,
but no great strength.
She lasted a very little while.
You will have your revenge, Ravic.
These crimes cannot go unpunished.
Revenge? No, not revenge.
Revenge is a personal thing.
This is something bigger.
Sybil's face is now the symbol
Haake must never leave France.
Each time he returns to Berlin,
innocent people die.
By the hundreds, they die.
Let me go.
Let me go.
Go where?
Leave me alone.
You're not well.
Let me get you a cab
and send you home.
What?
Did you hear me?
I said I'll put you in a cab and send you
to your apartment, your hotel.
Hotel?
Or wherever you live.
No, not my hotel.
Then where?
Look, if you're thinking
of taking a swim, don't.
It's the wrong time of year.
The water is too cold.
I hadn't thought of it.
Oh, well, then, I won't be responsible
for putting ideas in your head.
Come.
I know a little place around the corner.
You need a drink to warm you up.
Come on.
The bridge will always be here.
What do you want to drink?
Anything.
Two Calvados and a package
of Chesterfields.
Only French.
Then give me a package
of Laurents... Green.
Only Blue.
All right, Blue.
I may still have one Green left.
Were you in the Navy?
No, the circus.
Oh, better still.
Here, drink this.
Drink it all at once.
For a moment, it will give you the illusion
that you are living in a hot, dry country.
Which way are you going?
I don't know.
Where do you live?
I can't go there, not there.
Don't you know anyone
to whom you can go?
You could call them up from here.
No.
No, there is nobody.
But you must go somewhere.
Haven't you any money for a room?
Yes, yes, I have.
Then go to a hotel.
Look, you've got to go somewhere.
You can't stay
in the streets in this rain.
Yes, you're right.
You're quite right.
Don't trouble about me anymore.
I'll find a place.
Thank you for everything.
All right.
Come with me.
We'll find something for you.
Thank you.
This room was empty yesterday.
Madame Favier must have locked it
for fear the bedbugs will get away.
Sit down a moment.
I'll try from the balcony side.
It's no use.
The window is locked, too.
May I sit here for a moment?
You can sleep here.
That's the easiest thing.
You should have
left me on the street.
You won't disturb me.
It's not the first time
someone has stayed here all night
because he had nowhere else to go.
This is a hotel for refugees,
people with prices on their heads,
people who hang themselves
the next morning
or leave for Peru.
You can take the bed.
I'll sleep on the sofa. I'm used to it.
No, no, I'Il...
I'll just stay where I am.
If I may only sit here, that's all.
Just as you like.
Better take off your coat.
It's quite wet.
Your hat, too.
Now your shoes.
Take off your stockings.
I'll get you a pair of woolen ones.
In critical times,
have an eye for comfort.
That's an old soldier's maxim.
Hello?
Oh, oh, yes, Veber.
I'll be there at once.
I've got to go out.
It's all right. You can stay here.
Can't I go with you?
No, no, impossible.
You stay here and take whatever you need.
Oh, here.
You'll find pajamas
in the bottom drawer.
Thank you.
Please, may I keep the light on?
I wasn't going to turn it off.
I know that feeling.
Lucien.
Where is my Lucien?
How is she?
Pulse, 100.
Pressure, 110 over 80.
Pulse is weak and thready, 140.
Pressure, 70 over 40.
I can't get her pressure.
Is she gone?
Yes.
You did all you could, Ravic.
We can't win against quacks.
Love,
your magic spell is everywhere.
The bracelet on her ankle read,
"Always, Lucien."
Where is Lucien now?
21 years old, Veber.
21 years old.
The dignity of man,
the beauty of woman,
the innocence and subtlety of love,
then this.
By now you should be tough.
One is never tough,
but one can get used to a lot of things.
That's what I mean.
But with some things, never.
Good night, Colonel.
Drive on.
Hello, hello!
Hello, Boris.
Eh, busy again
with scientific murder, eh?
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"Arch of Triumph" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/arch_of_triumph_3067>.
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