The Tenth Man

Synopsis: Based on the novel of the same name by Graham Greene, this is a story of a French advocate Chavel who, while imprisoned by the Germans during the occupation, trades his material possessions to another prisoner in exchange for his life when condemned to the firing squad. At the end of the war, Chavel, posing as one of the other prisoners, returns to his home which is now occupied by Therese, the sister of the prisoner he traded his possessions to, and who bitterly awaits the return of the man who had indirectly caused the death of her brother. His real identity unknown to Therese, Chavel is invited to stay as a caretaker and to identify Chavel should he return to the house. The relationship between Chavel and Therese develops until one night, someone calling himself Chavel turns up at their doorstep.
Genre: Drama, War
Director(s): Jack Gold
Production: Gaumont British Picture Co.
  Nominated for 3 Golden Globes. Another 1 win.
 
IMDB:
7.1
NOT RATED
Year:
1988
100 min
431 Views


Following their successful

invasion of the Soviet Union

there's an increased deployment

of German troops to the Eastern front.

The so-called Resistance groups

received another blow yesterday.

Three terrorists

were shot dead...

Good morning,

Monsieur Chavel.

- Good morning.

- Morning.

The train from Paris

is arriving at 08:35.

We apologise for the delay.

The train will be leaving

from platform seven.

- Good morning.

- Good morning, Monsieur Chavez.

- Good morning.

- Good morning.

- Thank you. Good morning.

- Good morning.

The new German

financial regulations, monsieur.

Jules.

Check, please.

Right away, Monsieur Chavel.

- We need one more.

- We need one more!

Why me?

I'm a lawyer.

Let me go!

Who's in charge?

Let me go! It's a mistake.

I'm an ordinary man.

Come on.

And you.

Forwards! Move it!

Come on!

Come on!

Out!

Do as you're told, come on.

Where are we?

This is ridiculous. There's been

some mistake. Who's in charge?

Come on, you!

Forwards when I tell you!

There's been some mistake.

I'm a lawyer.

I want to see someone in charge.

I demand to speak to that officer.

Ah!

Quickly, quickly.

In you go.

And you.

Hey, Breton, what time is it?

- 8:
50.

- 40.

It's 8:
40.

It's pretty, your antique,

but it doesn't keep good

time any more. It's 8:40.

You should know that a piece of rubbish

from a market stall is bound to slow down.

It's not made to last.

8:
50.

Ran into some trouble?

Yes.

Who... Who's in charge?

I need to talk to someone.

- Save your breath.

- I've done nothing.

- There's no reason for me to be here.

- No reason for any of us.

What's the matter? Don't tell me

you don't know what's going on.

Every now and then they run out

and grab a few people off the street.

Then they keep us in cold storage...

till needed.

Very simple.

Any resistance, sabotage, trouble...

the Germans shoot a few hostages

to restore law and order.

Then they round up a few more.

They think it works quite well.

- There must be some way.

- Let's see. Do you know anyone useful?

- Hauptfhrer?

- No.

Even a colonel could help.

Nothing going on?

So far.

This is where they do it.

They march down the yard,

and round the back.

And then you hear the shots.

You and I must be the only

professional men in here.

Lorry driver, shop assistant,

tobacconist... labourers.

Michel Mangeot calls

himself a clerk

but was unemployed

when they picked him up.

I myself was mayor of Bouges

but I don't think the three-coloured

sash would look its best with this.

There must be something

we can do, even here.

The law exists to

protect the innocent.

My son wouldn't agree with you.

He believes money pressed into the

right palm always does the trick.

Everyone back inside!

Time for slops.

Stop!

If only I could let someone know,

make contact.

My son probably thinks I'm dead.

He'll have sold the family silver.

Move on.

Stop!

The local shooting gallery.

You ever kill a man?

No.

No, I've never killed anyone.

I've never faced a

man with a gun either.

Move on!

OK.

Are you ready for this?

Your socks. Raise you

two buttons and a shoelace.

I'm in for two cigarettes.

Two cigarettes...

and I'll raise you my waistcoat.

- I see that.

- Full house. Threes and nines.

I'm finished.

I'm hanging on to my trousers.

Me too.

Four tens.

I win.

It seems calm.

Generally is.

Early on.

- Were you here when they

shot the others? - Yes.

They do it in the morning.

Seven o'clock.

- You saw the place?

- Oh, yes.

Wooden posts and a...

a stone wall.

It's not much of a wall now.

Bullet holes all over it.

Terrible.

All chipped.

They must be lousy shots.

Good enough, though.

I've never really

been out of Paris.

Fontainebleau.

I went there one summer.

For the day.

With my mother and my sister.

It was nice.

I'd like to have travelled a bit.

- I suppose you've been all over.

- Mm? No, not really.

Just in the army, but I didn't get

further than the barracks at Marseille.

They wouldn't take me.

I don't want to go anywhere again.

Just to St Jean de Brinac, my home.

It's about...

It's just...

about an hour outside Paris.

Nice place, is it?

I bet you've got a real mansion.

Mm.

Funny old place, really.

The staircase. I could do you

a drawing with this pen if you like.

Don't.

It's your house, not mine.

My father owned it,

like his father before him.

I may retire there one day.

What was your father's job?

He was a lawyer,

like his father before him.

I suppose it's all right.

Seems a bit dusty to me.

Oh...

You can rely on the law.

It's not like family or friends.

The law never lets you down.

Unless you're on

the wrong side of it.

I thought you said it was

too early for trouble.

Come with me!

Come with me!

Move!

What time is it?

Half past six.

- I thought it was later.

- It is. It's twenty to seven.

Your piece of junk is fast.

Look out!

I have an announcement.

Outrages were committed

in the city last night.

The second-in-command to the

military governor was murdered.

Also, a girl on a bicycle.

We do not complain

about the girl.

Frenchmen have our permission

to kill Frenchwomen

if they wish to.

Do not blame us for

the consequences.

Blame your own

so-called Resistance.

My orders are...

that in this prison,

one man in every ten...

is to be shot.

You are 30.

Your contribution then is... three.

We are quite indifferent

as to which three.

This time...

choose for yourselves.

The execution will take place

at seven tomorrow morning.

Well, what do we do?

Volunteer?

We could draw lots. Unless it's felt

we should go by age, oldest first.

That wouldn't be right.

We've lived our life.

It's the way of nature.

Not always.

We'll draw lots.

Surely that's the fairest way.

How do we do it?

Flip a coin?

We can't get an even

chance with a coin.

The only way's a draw.

You can use this letter.

The backs are blank.

But why three lives for one?

It's not fair.

I don't go along with it!

We... we must demand

to see a superior officer.

That's no good.

You can see the marked ones.

We need a shoe

to put them in.

Krogh's got the biggest feet.

- Who's going first?

- Alphabetical order.

- Going backwards.

- You would say that.

For God's sake,

do we have to squabble over this?

OK...

Nobody here before V?

Nobody?

OK.

Here goes.

That's it.

Tough luck on Voisin,

but it's improved the odds.

All right, who's next?

U, T, S...?

The hell with this! We've all got

to take a slip. Let's get on with it.

Two.

- Ha!

- Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight...

Nine...

Who's the tenth man?

Mangeot, you next.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

Thirteen...

Fourteen.

Fifteen...

Sixteen.

Seventeen...

Eighteen.

Nineteen...

Twenty.

Twenty-one.

Twenty-two...

- May I join you?

- Twenty-three...

Twenty-four...

Twenty-five, twenty-six...

Twenty-seven...

- You looked!

- I did not look!

He didn't.

Come and sit with us,

Monsieur Chavel.

I didn't agree to this draw.

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Graham Greene

Henry Graham Greene (2 October 1904 – 3 April 1991), better known by his pen name Graham Greene, was an English novelist regarded by many as one of the greatest writers of the 20th century. Combining literary acclaim with widespread popularity, Greene acquired a reputation early in his lifetime as a major writer, both of serious Catholic novels, and of thrillers (or "entertainments" as he termed them). He was shortlisted, in 1966 and 1967, for the Nobel Prize for Literature. Through 67 years of writings, which included over 25 novels, he explored the ambivalent moral and political issues of the modern world, often through a Catholic perspective. Although Greene objected strongly to being described as a Roman Catholic novelist, rather than as a novelist who happened to be Catholic, Catholic religious themes are at the root of much of his writing, especially the four major Catholic novels: Brighton Rock, The Power and the Glory, The Heart of the Matter, and The End of the Affair; which are regarded as "the gold standard" of the Catholic novel. Several works, such as The Confidential Agent, The Quiet American, Our Man in Havana, The Human Factor, and his screenplay for The Third Man, also show Greene's avid interest in the workings and intrigues of international politics and espionage. Greene was born in Berkhamsted in Hertfordshire into a large, influential family that included the owners of the Greene King Brewery. He boarded at Berkhamsted School in Hertfordshire, where his father taught and became headmaster. Unhappy at the school, he attempted suicide several times. He went up to Balliol College, Oxford, to study history, where, while an undergraduate, he published his first work in 1925—a poorly received volume of poetry, Babbling April. After graduating, Greene worked first as a private tutor and then as a journalist – first on the Nottingham Journal and then as a sub-editor on The Times. He converted to Catholicism in 1926 after meeting his future wife, Vivien Dayrell-Browning. Later in life he took to calling himself a "Catholic agnostic". He published his first novel, The Man Within, in 1929; its favourable reception enabled him to work full-time as a novelist. He supplemented his novelist's income with freelance journalism, and book and film reviews. His 1937 film review of Wee Willie Winkie (for the British journal Night and Day), commented on the sexuality of the nine-year-old star, Shirley Temple. This provoked Twentieth Century Fox to sue, prompting Greene to live in Mexico until after the trial was over. While in Mexico, Greene developed the ideas for The Power and the Glory. Greene originally divided his fiction into two genres (which he described as "entertainments" and "novels"): thrillers—often with notable philosophic edges—such as The Ministry of Fear; and literary works—on which he thought his literary reputation would rest—such as The Power and the Glory. Greene had a history of depression, which had a profound effect on his writing and personal life. In a letter to his wife, Vivien, he told her that he had "a character profoundly antagonistic to ordinary domestic life," and that "unfortunately, the disease is also one's material." William Golding described Greene as "the ultimate chronicler of twentieth-century man's consciousness and anxiety." He died in 1991, at age 86, of leukaemia, and was buried in Corseaux cemetery. more…

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