Coup de torchon Page #5

Synopsis: 1938, in a French african colony. Lucien Cordier is the cop of this village, populated with blacks and a few whites (usually racialist and lustful). He is a washout, everyone (including his wife Huguette) humiliates him. He never arrests anyone and looks at elsewhere when a dirty trick occurs. But one day, he turns into a machiavellian exterminating angel.
Genre: Comedy, Crime, Drama
Director(s): Bertrand Tavernier
  Nominated for 1 Oscar. Another 2 wins & 10 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.7
Rotten Tomatoes:
83%
NOT RATED
Year:
1981
128 min
325 Views


She's too good for you?

While you're the best I can get?

- Listen...

Having you is an honor... A man

who's killed my husband for love.

No, I was just

getting rid of trash.

The trash also happened to be your husband,

so I killed two birds with one stone.

There's a lot of trash around.

There'll be less and less...

Had to start somewhere.

Well, I want to believe you killed

him on account of me.

Let me go on believing it. Who are you

to tell me what to believe or not believe?

- You're taking your time.

- I'm coming.

I don't believe it. They're all

conspiring to keep me from sleeping.

I'm worn out...

Wait.

What's wrong?

What's with you?

Vicious nag...

- Are you hurt?

- It kicked me in the privates.

- Come in and let me take a look.

- I'll go home.

- I'll fix you up.

- I'll see a doctor.

- You won't get there in this state.

- Are you sure?

Yes. Can you walk?

Barely.

I don't see any bruises.

But it hurts like hell.

Doesn't take much to hurt like hell,

when it's down there.

Here? Or here?

You're too soft.

I am not soft.

Touch me anywhere.

Say, you're not crying in pain now.

Someone's outside.

Hear it?

I'm sure. It's like

something was being dragged.

Wake up!

I'll go and see.

Take your gun at least.

Oh, goddamn!

The son of a b*tch is back!

Maybe he's not dead.

He's dead as they come.

- Then he's not alone.

- I doubt that.

Which goddamn son of a b*tch

brought him?

There's the bastard.

Stop there, damn you!

Black bastard.

Why'd you bring him back?

- Please, ma'am.

- I'll peel your black ass.

- Forgive me.

- What got into you, for Chrissake?

Stop it! How's things, Friday?

Getting cloudy, eh?

Thank you, Captain, very well.

Yes, it looks like rain.

What got into you to bring him back?

He was fine where he was.

- Stop it.

- You take the trouble...

to kill him and this prick...

Back to the house. Now!

Don't be afraid.

I always treated you right.

That's why you can trust me.

- I'll never tell a soul.

- Good.

I didn't see anything.

You mean like Ma'am Rose naked?

That neither...

Can I go, Captain?

Sure, Friday. Thank you.

But before you go, give me

a hand with burying the body.

White folk aren't meant

for vultures.

Will he have some?

Friday, want some coffee, a piece

of bread, some pat?

No, thank you. I'm not hungry.

I'd better be going, now.

Wait Lucien.

Do you think you'll sleep easy if I let

him go, after what he heard you say.

- Maybe he didn't hear.

- You were yelling it.

Maybe he didn't understand.

You know I swallow my words. They used to

tell me off all the time in school.

Well, this time you didn't swallow them.

I thought you were tougher.

With Marcaillou you took

advantage of the situation.

He was a different story. Friday's a good

black, who's never hurt a fly.

If we looked hard enough...

I know what's bothering you.

When it happens

like with your husband's 'accident'...

when you hear about it later...

...you can say:

"What can I do? I'm not responsible for it."

But this is not the case this time.

This time you know what's gonna happen.

So you're telling me "Don't go."

I can't back out now. Now I must go.

Just checking if you've changed your mind.

I'm coming.

You think he'd wait

if he'd understood?

Tired?

I'm not feeling well, my legs are shaky.

Don't worry, it'll pass.

What's wrong?

You know very well

I have to do it.

But, Captain, I trusted you. You're

different from other white men.

- There's your mistake.

- I've always believed your every word.

No, you didn't.

Now you're lying.

Coming from a good catholic like you

it worries me.

Lying is a sin.

Killing people is a sin too.

And a worse one than lying.

Let me tell you a secret now, and that

it might offer you some consolation.

We all kill what we love.

But you don't love me.

And one more thing.

No, don't tire yourself getting up now...

Better the blind man

who pisses out the window...

than the joker who told him

it was a urinal.

Know who the joker is?

It's everybody.

All the bastards who look away

when you're in sh*t,

who wallow in their cash,

praying through their a**holes

that nothing happens.

If it's true they were made

in God's image,

I wouldn't like to get Him

in a dark alley.

You kissed too much white ass. And now

you're getting f***ed, and you asked for it.

So now this is what I do

with friends like you.

Did you do it?

I'm tired of taking

the rap,

for doing what everyone

wants me to do,

and don't have the courage

to do themselves.

- Madam Marcaillou?

- Yes, sir.

Colonel Tramichel -

Tra as in tralala...

This early visit may surprise you.

Please, gather your courage.

Mother of God, no, I don't believe it!

Alas, yes, it's but too true.

There must be two.

This is the second I'm getting.

When is this story going to be over?

Wake up.

There's an officer here to see you.

He says it's urgent.

It's war, for sure.

I don't want you drafted.

But, Huguette

if there's a war

they'll need the police

more than ever

to arrest the ones

who won't fight.

No, listen.

No?

- Away!

- Let it say goodbye to his master.

It doesn't want to say goodbye.

Dogs eat what has scared them, right Medore?

Weird dog... He's got a...

I think the victims were

struck by the same hand.

The same weapon was used

on them both.

I won't say you're wrong,

but I won't say you're right.

I know how it happened.

Friday wanted to get even with my husband

for the beating he got the other day.

So he took the rifle and -see the hole-

shot him point blank.

Then my husband took the rifle back

and killed him before dying.

- A case of self-defense.

- That's how I see it.

This isn't something unheard of Colonel,

two dead men shooting each other.

You're right. It's happened before.

During the war,

a machine-gunner got killed.

But his finger stuck

in the trigger

so his corpse went on

and killed dozens of Huns.

My condolences, dear Lady.

Make sure they're six feet under.

I never want to see them again.

I've never seen a clearer

case of murder.

- Clear as rain water.

- You mean still water.

Yes, sir!

- Kiss me.

- You're forgetting again: It's not proper.

You don't grab a brand-new widow.

Well, I have to wait for tonight then!

Look.

My God... poor little thing.

This whole situation is a real pain!

I've put on the bed a little black

dress of mine I can lend you.

The dirty pig isn't worth

buying a new one.

The veil's a present.

Don't fool with death, Nono.

It's bad luck.

Have more.

Then I won't eat after

the funeral.

Pity though, 'cause this is good food.

- It's lamb stew.

- Need help?

- No, that's all right.

Quit stuffing your face

and look after Rose.

Does that really suit me?

You look pretty, dressed up like a widow.

- A kiss?

- A big one.

Come look.

- Come look.

- What's happening?

I saw them. They were kissing.

- What are you saying?

- Don't interrupt me when I'm speaking.

You're losing it!

Why are you making this up?

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Jean Aurenche

Jean Aurenche (1903–1992) was a French screenwriter. During his career, he wrote 80 films for directors such as René Clément, Bertrand Tavernier, Marcel Carné, Jean Delannoy and Claude Autant-Lara. He is often associated with the screenwriter Pierre Bost, with whom he had a fertile partnership from 1940 to 1975. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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    "Coup de torchon" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/coup_de_torchon_5979>.

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