Bob le Flambeur
- PG
- Year:
- 1956
- 98 min
- $4,623
- 503 Views
Here, as you'll hear it in Montmartre,
is the strange tale of...
The story begins in those moments
between night and day,
by the dawn's early light.
Montmartre is both heaven...
... and hell.
The signs are about to go out.
People pass one another,
forever strangers.
Working people like this cleaning lady,
who's very late,
and idlers,
like this young girl,
who has bloomed
early for her age.
But let's get to Bob.
Bob the gambler.
An old young man,
legend of a recent past.
Going to Carpeaux's?
Taxi, sir?
Sorry, Mr. Bob,
I didn't recognize you.
A real hood's face.
Want a ride on my bike?
'Morning, Mr. Bob.
Thanks, Mr. Bob.
'Night, Pops.
- How you doing?
- Okay.
Get in.
Hello, gentlemen.
You cops never sleep.
What if I'm seen with you?
- Where to?
- Carpeaux's.
- To gamble.
- No,just to say hello.
Drive to Carpeaux's.
Not all the way.
Mustn't ruin my reputation.
Here, something to read.
Three of a kind.
One chip.
Ante up.
Is this Bob one of your informers?
Him? If he heard you say that...
No, he's an old pal.
Ever heard of the Triumph case?
True, it was before your time.
The night the Stick took a shot at me.
Bob knocked his hand aside.
Why'd he do it?
Maybe because I was unarmed.
Or to save the Stick from getting
the max as a cop-killer.
But that day Bob and I became pals.
- Isn't he a hood?
- Sure, but age has wised him up.
Didn't he rob the Rimbaud Bank
Yep. But he did time for it.
That quieted him down.
Quit now, Roger.
I'm on a roll.
- So I see, Bob.
- Why call me Bob?
You do everything like Bob.
Kids always want
to be like someone.
Beat it, honey. You got a date.
- Date?
- Run along!
See you around.
Always the gentleman!
Never after sunrise.
Couldn't you have turned in
after the crap game?
- How much?
- Two hundred clams.
That calls for a drink.
Not for me. I'm turning in.
I'm beat.
A pastis, Yvonne.
He stands pat.
I think he's bluffing.
I lay out my three aces.
He had a full house.
- Sh*t!
You can say that again!
- Not coming in?
- I see my girl at noon.
- The one I just saw?
- No, another one.
You're overworked.
Okay, beat it.
See you tonight for drinks?
Let me sleep.
I got in very late."
"Not to wak you, left londry in kichen.
You hav fresh cofe on stove. Celeste."
Marc.
You gotta help me.
I need cash to skip town.
- Come in.
How much?
- A hundred clams.
I beat up too hard on Lydia.
She's in the hospital.
She may fink on me.
I already did a stretch for pimping.
- Beat it!
- What?
Beat it, you hear?
But, Bob...
I like to help guys in big trouble,
but not your kind.
What's got into you?
I don't like pimps.
I thought you'd reformed,
went to work in the rag trade.
And you've got the nerve
to put the bite on me?
Beat it!
Already!
Your phone's been reported
out of order, sir.
I told you,
use a hankie on the mouthpiece.
What's up?
- Our rendezvous.
On my way!
It's late.
Time you went home to Mama.
Mr. Bob's coming.
That's all you care about.
See you tomorrow?
- I'll phone you.
The way my luck's going,
I'd even lose at hopscotch.
Excuse me.
Looking to replace Lydia?
- I don't need a guardian.
- No, just a good spanking.
Don't you know
sidewalk Romeos are dangerous?
You protect widows and orphans?
One more crack like that
and I will spank you.
Dare you!
You're out late for your age.
Night school.
Leave that.
Set her up at our table.
C'mon, kid.
- What's your name?
- Anne.
Paulo... Anne.
My dream girl! If she just says yes,
her fortune's made.
Don't start! The kid's hungry.
Yvonne, hear that? The kid's hungry.
I'm a handsome guy, no?
You finished?
How can you starve with those eyes?
I thought dolls stacked like you
all had sugar daddies.
Well, I just found one.
Why're you hanging around
Montmartre?
Don't you have a job?
I did. But not anymore.
- Why not?
- The boss wasn't my masculine ideal.
I'm her ideal!
What do you live on?
Almost always.
Don't hang out in Montmartre, kid.
You'll end up a pavement princess.
Should a girl like you
be out till 5:
00 a.m.?What?
I saw you in Pigalle
with a Yank, eating fries.
I like fries.
What attracts you
to this neighborhood?
That's easy enough.
The lights. The big cars.
The music in the nightclubs.
The bubbly! Right?
See you again?
- Why not?
See you later.
- Your pal's nice.
- A nice little guy.
The check!
How much?
- Eighty.
What do we do now?
We?
Time you went beddy-bye.
At your place?
- Got any money?
- Plenty. Three hundred francs.
Get a hotel room. 'Night, kid.
- Good night, Bob.
- 'Night, Yvonne.
C'mon.
You, wait outside!
So there you are!
Have a seat.
Now talk.
- I've nothing to say.
Really?
Then I'll bust you for procuring.
Know what a repeat offender's good for?
You're a dead duck.
But I'm working. I sell threads.
- To a certain Lydia?
- She's a girlfriend, Lieutenant!
You got a funny way with girlfriends.
I was in a bad mood.
Well, your moods are over.
Look at my tax form.
You can see I'm a working man.
You can't nail me as a pimp.
"Anyone who admits to living
with a prostitute is a procurer."
That's the new law, buddy!
Unless I...
- Unless...?
- I fix things.
- Please, Lieutenant!
- Not so fast!
Lucky man.
Lydia won't file a complaint.
She gets out of the hospital
tomorrow.
So I'll let you go...
on one condition.
Anything, Lieutenant!
Give me a lead. A good one!
But I don't know anything.
I swear it.
Apart from two or three pimps I know.
They're not my department.
I want something big.
Tough luck, then.
Don't do that!
I've got nothing now,
but I'll find something. I swear.
- Promise?
- I swear, Lieutenant!
You're free to go.
Or else...
- Well?
- They admitted they were wrong.
Great. I won't have to
send you packages now.
Red wins.
I hide, you seek.
This one.
For once, I could've won.
I did this before you did.
Look at this place!
What a dump!
It's enough to give you the blues.
Let's split!
We can't all have a duplex.
I'm no artist.
And how!
You out of sorts?
Me? Are you finished laughing?
I didn't say anything! You nuts?
Not yet, but if this keeps up...
I get it, it's the kid.
She dumped you?
Is she the kind to dump anybody?
Let's go! I'll buy us a bottle.
- I'll pay for the second!
- Flip you for both.
Heads!
Say, my luck's coming back!
- My car ready?
- Right there, Mr. Bob.
- Gas, oil, the works?
- All ready, Mr. Bob.
Pigalle, please?
You!
Get in.
What's with the suitcase?
Selling shoelaces?
No. I'm moving.
The hotel owner has a dumb rule:
She wants to be paid.
People you owe money to
always have dumb rules.
And the hundred I gave you?
I paid my hotel bill
so I could get my things.
All your worldly goods in there?
Where'll you go tonight?
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"Bob le Flambeur" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/bob_le_flambeur_4410>.
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