Topaze

All characters and events

in this film are fictitious.

Any similarity to actual events

or persons, living or dead,

is purely coincidental.

"Lambs...

"The lambs were safe

"in a park...

"in a park."

Lambs. Lambs.

Come on, boy, make an effort.

Were...

Were... w-e-r-e.

This means

there was not only one lamb,

but several lambs.

Good day, Mr. Topaze.

Good day, Miss Muche.

Is my father around?

The headmaster's not to be seen.

What time is it?

Ten to eight, miss.

- You're early for your class.

- I have work.

- Can you lend me your red ink?

- With pleasure, miss.

I just bought a bottle.

I'll open it for you.

You're so very kind.

- Are you correcting homework?

- Yes.

And I don't like doing it.

It's curious, I've always had

a fondness for correcting homework.

I sometimes surprise myself

correcting billboards in the metro,

or pamphlets that people

hiding around corners

unexpectedly thrust into your hands.

There you go.

Keep the bottle as long as you like.

Thank you, Mr. Topaze.

- At your service, miss.

- At my service?

A ready-made phrase,

but you say it nicely.

I try my best

and it's truly sincere.

Two weeks ago, you didn't say it,

but you were much nicer.

How do you mean, miss?

You brought me colored chalk

and perpetual calendars.

You came to my classroom

to help me correct homework.

But you no longer offer to help me.

Help you? Had I sought this favor,

would you have granted it?

I don't know.

I only know you haven't sought it.

Thank you anyhow.

I have a great deal of work.

Miss Muche, my dear colleague,

do me the honor, let me correct it.

I can't impose such drudgery.

You mustn't call drudgery

that which is a joy.

When I'm alone at night,

in my little room,

hunched over your dictations,

the problems you gave them,

those delicate and feminine

spelling pitfalls,

I feel as though you're close to me.

Mr. Topaze, behave yourself.

Forgive me. But this discussion

has gone so far that

you cannot refuse me this favor

without inflicting pain

and misery I do not deserve.

OK, I'll give in again.

Thank you!

- I need it by tomorrow.

- You'll have it.

I shake when I think that we're

doing something forbidden together.

You'll have it tomorrow.

Tomorrow morning, eight-thirty.

Goodbye. And not a word.

Not a word.

Back to our lambs.

Hello, headmaster.

Mr. Topaze, I'd like to have

a word with you.

Of course, sir.

Go outside and play.

- I'm surprised.

- About what?

I recall Article 27

of the Muche Boarding School rules'.

"Teachers who give private lessons

in their classrooms

"must pay the administration

10% of their earnings."

I was not aware

you gave this student lessons.

They're not real lessons.

You're playing on words.

No, sir, they're free lessons.

If you give free lessons,

no one will want to pay.

And your colleagues will lose

their precious extra income.

- Maybe you're a rich man.

- Not at all, sir.

That's your business.

But despite your show of generosity,

you must pay the 10% fee.

It's not for a miserable question

of money.

But out of respect for the rules,

which must be as unchanging

as the laws of nature.

I understand fully, sir.

What is this mammal?

A squirrel, sir.

It's mine, I brought it in

for one of my lessons.

- Very well.

- Sir, I believe I have

succeeded in recruiting

a new student.

You will note,

this is the seventh one.

Seventh what?

The seventh new student

I recruited for us this year.

So you've done the family

a big favor?

Yes, in fact. It's true.

- What is the child's name?

- Gaston Courtois.

I regret he's not an aristocrat.

This would influence

my decision.

Is he truly exceptional?

Possibly. I tutor him at his aunt's,

his parents are away.

I believe he has an agile mind,

the ability to grasp...

Good, good.

Will they accept our conditions?

3,000 francs a month?

Naturally.

Will the child sign up for

extra classes?

- Probably.

- Fencing, modeling, choir?

No doubt.

- 3,000 francs a month?

- I suppose.

Dance, painting

and Esperanto for 1,200?

They'll recognize the importance.

Do they know we must charge

for other additional expenses?

What expenses?

Pens and blotters, 100 francs,

drinking water, 50 francs,

access to library, 200 francs.

A 300-franc deposit

for minor damage'.

ink stains, names engraved on desks,

writing on walls. And lastly,

300 francs a month

for specific school insurance

which covers sprains, fractures,

scarlet fever,

mumps and poked eyes.

You think they'll accept this?

- Certainly.

- Then he's truly exceptional

and I will make an effort.

Since you were foolish enough

to commit yourself,

I must help you out

of this unfortunate bind.

You mustn't take this for granted,

I expect a display of renewed zeal

to show your gratitude.

You can count on it, headmaster.

Very well.

Here's the file you submitted

for your academic decoration,

I have the pleasure of announcing

that the Academy lnspector

spoke to me about you

in flattering terms.

He said:
"Mr. Topaze deserves

to be decorated ten times over.

"Ten times over,

and I was almost ashamed

"to discover he hasn't been."

You embarrass me.

"Especially since this year,

I cannot award him."

- He can't?

- His last words were:

"Tell Mr. Topaze that this year,

"I'm decorating him morally."

Morally.

It's possibly even more moving.

Morally...

Hello, old boy.

Hello, Tamise.

What's the matter? Are you ill?

To the contrary, I'm very well.

Imagine, the Academy lnspector

told Mr. Muche, in person,

that he was decorating me morally.

Morally? What does that mean?

It means he thinks I'm worthy.

That's nice,

but you still don't have it.

Of course, if you really

examine things, I don't have it.

And your musician?

Have you caught him in the act?

No, not yet.

I'm sure that once again,

in just a while, during my class,

I'll hear his four ironic notes.

They destroy my authority,

tarnish my reputation.

I've given it much thought.

If you like, I have a plan.

The first time

you hear the serenade, don't react,

continue as if you'd heard nothing.

He'll play louder.

You walk backwards, slowly

approaching the source of the noise.

When you're sure, you spin around,

yank the boy off his bench

and slide your hand in his desk!

You'll find the instrument

as sure as my name's Tamise.

Your plan is very clever.

I only have one objection.

This maneuver is a sham,

a sort of premeditated plot

that is not completely honest.

The musician who's wearing

on your nerves is hardly honest.

Yes, but he's a child.

Hello, gentlemen.

Mr. Topaze, would you happen

to have any colored chalk?

Certainly, I'm not very well-off

for colored chalk,

- but I have blue and red.

- That will be fine.

Playschool children require

sizeable amounts of colored chalk.

Yes, this morning we have a lesson

on butterflies.

One needs a riot of color to draw

those lovely Lepidoptera!

Here you are.

I'll give you green and purple too.

Thank you, Mr. Topaze.

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