Querelle
- R
- Year:
- 1982
- 108 min
- 1,018 Views
The thought of murder
often evokes thoughts...
of the sea and of sailors.
What naturally follows
thoughts of the sea and murder...
is the thought
of love or sexuality.
Hey! Closing time!
Didn't you understand me, Robert?
It's closing time!
Then lock the door.
Robert is staying with me.
What did you say?
You heard me.
Robert is staying here with me tonight.
What do you think of that?
Of what?
After all, she's still your wife.
You think I should be jealous?
- It would be normal.
- Maybe, but what's normal?
We got a deal:
Lysiane does what she feels like...
and leaves me free
to do what I want, understand?
That's important for me.
- Chicago!
- Indeed.
Anyway, I want to read his cards.
Right, kiddo?
Hope you know
what you're doing.
You know
I know what I want.
You've lost, Mario.
Then let's have another drink.
You have a brother?
So what?
Why should I?
You're very much alike,
aren't you?
That's what other people say...
but it isn't true.
Querelle is a sailor.
Maybe it's true.
And you love one another...
more than you'd like to.
Bullshit.
We're brothers...
and that's all there is to it.
Why are you shaking your head?
I don't know why...
but your brother
is in great danger.
In danger?
What kind of danger?
In danger of...
finding himself.
It's difficult to
brush past those shoulders...
profiles, curls...
those strong and supple boys...
without imagining them
capable of murder.
Finally, land.
And broads!
Juicy c*nts. Hot and wet.
- Have you been in Brest before?
- Why?
Because they've got the raunchiest
whorehouse in the world.
The Feria.
Right. That's the name of the place.
Any of you guys know it?
- Yeah, but only from what I've heard.
- And what have you heard?
Nothing specific.
to throw dice with the boss...
if he wants to catch a hooker.
Nono. That's the name
of the Feria boss.
That's right. Nono.
Why do they have to throw dice?
That's the rule.
When you win,
you get to have your pick.
When you lose, you have to
let the boss f*** you first.
Really?
Really, and I'm damn sure there's plenty
of guys who kinda like losing.
- If it turns them on.
- So what?
Once I have suffered the solitude
caused by my peculiarity long enough...
it may be that naked
I will hold these boys...
who shatter me with their
audacity and strength, against my body.
Though I hardly dare believe it.
With tears in my eyes,
I thank God for granting me this bliss.
I melt with their wetness
on my cheeks. I toss.
I roll in waves
of tenderness for these boys...
and their hard, shallow cheeks.
Querelle's great passion
is his own body in repose.
It is as if he's reflecting
himself in his own image.
He's looking at himself
as if through a magnifying glass.
He's scrutinizing the minute events
like an etymologist.
But how shining is his body
in the glory of his proud movements?
Your boots, sir.
Leave them there.
Anything else, sir?
No, thank you.
Since they themselves
wished to deny it...
the strange resemblance
of the two brothers...
seemed attractive only to others.
They met only in the evenings,
as late as possible...
in the one bed of a room...
near the one in which
their mother had lived in poverty.
Perhaps they met again
in their love for their mother...
but at such a deep level...
that they could not see it at all.
How long have you been in Brest?
Since yesterday.
Never thought
I'd run into you here.
I'm the lover
of the boss, Lysiane...
and have been
for the last six months.
- What about her husband?
- He's got interests of his own.
Why did you come here?
Got a little business to take care of.
I'm looking for a customer.
- Opium?
- Yeah, that's right.
No sweat.
Nono's the contact you want.
I'll introduce you.
What about the cop with him?
He's part of the furniture.
He ain't a cop in here.
Just the opposite.
He's our safety guarantee.
This is Querelle, my brother.
He has a deal for you.
He's all right.
Hello.
Good evening.
What's the deal?
Opium.
Five k's.
Ten thousand dollars.
You got it.
Cash.
Of course.
Querelle was frozen by Mario's gaze.
More than indifferent...
Mario's gaze and stance
were glacial.
At the same time, Querelle was struck
by the owner's extraordinary strength...
and the cop's beauty.
Never before had he
experienced true rivalry...
with which he had faced
in these two.
There's nothing fishy
about this, is there?
You don't have anything
You bring the merchandise
and you get the bread. Okay, buster?
And don't let Mario worry you.
Mario's part of the furniture.
Querelle had no doubt that the realm
over which this fellow ruled...
was a terrestrial one.
But was it possible the police
could be so handsome, so rich?
Let's have a drink!
When will you be here?
I got to figure how I'm gonna get
the stuff out, but I'll manage that.
I don't want to
get involved in no sh*t.
Don't wanna burn my fingers.
You want to dance with me?
Sure, why not?
My name's Lysiane.
I own the place.
You don't say.
I'm Robert's brother.
I know.
A penny for your thoughts, Querelle.
I acknowledge the existence
of authority in Mario.
I note his objective gestures.
Objectivity is the companion
of total power.
It holds sway over
unchallengeable moral authority.
It's a perfect social organization.
You win.
I get the feeling
you're pissed off.
It isn't my fault
my sister didn't show up.
You could have arranged
for her to get here.
I couldn't, Gil.
I swear it.
You know perfectly well
how much I like Paulette.
You like her, eh?
And you think that's funny, Roger?
Tell me if you think
that's funny!
You know...
I really want to make it
with your sister.
Can you imagine how I'd f*** her
if I held her like I'm holding you now?
You're Gil,
Gilbert Turko, a Pole.
You haven't been working
too long as a mason...
and you often lose your temper.
You got the same chops.
You got the same eyes.
Pity you're not her.
What are you going to tell her?
I'll do my best
to get her to come tomorrow.
Querelle was not used
to the idea that he was a monster.
Ayoung man,
he knew the terror of being alone...
caught in the world of the living.
Bravo! Bravo!
You know, for a little girl,
you sing that song just like a big boy.
Hurry up, baby.
Go on after your girl!
Otherwise she's gonna
drown herself!
Good to see you.
Why?
Got a job for you,
like the one back in Beirut.
Opium?
Right.
I'm going ashore
tomorrow afternoon.
At night I'll drop a rope
over the wall to the dock...
to the right of the customs house.
At 6:
00 you take a boat,tie the package to the rope...
then go back through customs.
We'll meet later back above.
How much?
Three hundred.
It's okay with me.
Perhaps love is a den of killers,
and if this is true...
will Querelle draw me into it?
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"Querelle" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 5 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/querelle_16451>.
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