War Is Over The (Alain Resnais 1966)
THE WAR IS OVER
You made it.
Once again you see the hill of Biriatou.
Once again you have that stale, anxious taste of crossing the border.
You drove all night.
Your mouth is dry from too little sleep and too much tobacco.
Once again you cross this border in the shimmering early-morning light.
The sun rises behind you over the Elizondo peaks.
Once again, you'll make it over.
It's all right. You'll make your train.
All night I was afraid we might break down.
But there was no reason. I had the car checked.
An obsession. You know how it is.
At night, the stretch between Burgos and Miranda...
miles of desert around us--
No offense, but service stations in your country leave a lot to be desired.
I didn't dare push the car too hard. I was afraid.
If it weren't for you, I would have played tourist today.
A good meal in a seafood restaurant.
Crabe in a hot sauce with a nice white wine.
Or roast pig at Bottine's, behind the Plaza Mayor.
And in the afternoon, a bullfight, of course.
I generally don't get the time to see the towns I go to.
Believe it or not, I haven't even set foot yet in the Prado in Madrid!
I can tell you now...
last night when you said we had to rush back, I was furious.
That wasn't hard to see.
We usually spend the night talking, but last night you acted like I didn't exist.
I'd arranged to be away three days.
My wife was going to run the bookshop alone.
Today the Prado. Tomorrow Toledo and Aranjuez.
A three-day vacation, in other words.
So last night when you read the letter I brought you...
and then said we had to set out immediately, I was fuming!
So I ruined your trip, eh?
Take it up with the Spanish police.
- There's a crowd already. - Easter. They spend the day in Spain.
Easier for you. They have less time to check passports.
- How did you manage it before? - Before?
When the border was closed. When there were no tourists.
We crossed over through the mountains.
Sometimes we ran into the Guardia Civil.
- And then? - Then we'd shoot our way through.
- You're no problem at all. - Why?
No one hearing you talk would take you for a Spaniard.
Even I forget sometimes.
The last buddy I drove over didn't speak a word of French.
He pretended to be asleep.
If they had asked him a single question, our goose would have been cooked.
With you it's a cinch.
Please park your car and step inside the station.
- Why? Listen, I'm in a hurry. - Police check. Pull the car up there.
Come on, let's go.
- What's all this about? - I've no idea either.
You think it's a random check? You sure your papers are okay, Carlos?
Remember what we said. It'll be all right.
Leave the key in the car. Follow me.
- What about our bags? - Never mind. Leave them.
Have you got something against Citroens today?
So that's it. I bought some books in his shop.
We struck up an acquaintance.
And so, Mr. Rene Sallanches, you were there on vacation?
- Alone? - Yes, alone.
And you live in Paris at Rue de l'Estrapade, number 4?
No, number 7.
And you met Mr.Jude in his bookshop in Hendaye?
And Mrs.Jude-- What's her first name again?
Marie. She's charming.
Do you have a telephone in Paris?
Call this number right away.
It's Sunday morning. You'll wake up Nadine.
I told her nothing's wrong, but she's worried and wants to speak to you.
What's wrong? Did you run over another old lady?
- Everything's fine. - Why did he call?
- A simple formality. - Busybody.
These things happen, you know.
Are you staying in tonight?
Yes, I'll wait for you.
Then I'll see you tonight at the house. Good-bye.
- They searched the car. - Of course.
So what did you tell them?
I said you were in the area on vacation.
You bought books in my shop and we struck up an acquaintance.
I agreed to take a little trip down to Spain to pick you up.
He asked, "From Madrid?"
"Yes," I said. "What of it?"
"Three hundred miles each way? That's a long trip to make in 24 hours.
That doesn't leave you much time for sightseeing."
That got my goat. I said, "Driving relaxes me."
- Is the next train an express? - Yes. The 9:55. First-class only.
9:55. I have time to see Antoine.
- Shouldn't I give him our message? - I have time to do it myself.
I'd prefer we not be seen at Antoine's together.
Let's do this: I'll drop you at my house, and let Antoine know you're here.
I'll tell him to meet you at the station 15 minutes before your train leaves.
It's safer that way.
All of a sudden, my memory failed me completely.
A total blank. I forgot Sallanches' phone number.
"This is it."
I thought to myself, "This is it.
We'll get caught over this tiny detail."
Besides, I had no way of knowing who would answer on the other end.
It the inspector had reached Sallanches himself...
it would have blown my cover.
So the passport is false but the phone number is real?
No, it's all real:
Rene Sallanches, his passport, his daughter, his phone number.
The only fake element in this story is me.
So all you do is switch photos?
You could put it like that.
See, Marie? It's nothing more complicated than that.
You know everything about the Sallanches family.
Your answers are correct.
But they know nothing about you.
That is, the person using the passport.
But on the phone they don't give you away?
No, they didn't give me away.
It's my lucky star.
Without my own little star, I'd long since be dead or in jail.
Anyway, Nadine will explain.
Sallanches' daughter. She's the one who answered the phone.
- Do you know her? - No, I don't know any of them.
I know all about them, but I don't know any of them.
It's odd you should speak of a lucky star.
I've always thought some people have lucky stars.
- You've never gone to their house? - No, never.
So you really think they stopped us by chance?
- Of course. - Why?
Didn't you see? They stopped another black Citroen behind us.
- Are you sure? I didn't notice. - A suspect car is reported...
so they search all cars of the same make and color.
- Suspect? How? - There's still smuggling going on.
I've seen them search our cars for gold, for example.
They found propaganda hidden in the frame.
What happens then?
That depends. If it's in France, jail, a fine, house arrest.
Nothing too terrible.
But if it's in Spain--
It's time to open up shop.
I'm going to get some sleep. Antoine must be at the station.
- What if your guy's already crossed? - Impossible.
- Do I know him? - I'm sure you do. He goes so often.
But under many different names.
Something about this whole affair still worries me.
- How did they know I was in Madrid? - They couldn't know.
The inspector took a stab in the dark and just happened to get it right.
With all the arrests in Madrid, aren't you on the spot too?
If I were, do you think the Spanish police would have let me get away?
- Good luck, Carlos. - Thanks.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
- Greetings, Rafael. - Has Juan arrived?
- Juan? No news of Juan. - You weren't expecting him?
Sometimes I don't know who's coming. They just ask me to get a car ready.
One way to Paris and a visitor's pass.
Have many been crossing lately?
Yesterday, two cars to Andalusia, using their vacation to work for us.
Today, the same car that goes to Bilbao every two weeks.
I've got a car ready, ordered by Paris. No idea who it's for.
- For how long? - The week.
- Maybe that one's for Juan. - I think he'd go through Perpignan.
- Why? - He's been using this side too much.
Perpignan. You don't know who handles the crossings there?
It's not my district. Anyway, what can you accomplish by going there?
Can you tell me what's going on with Juan?
The bookseller brought a letter saying Juan would arrive in Madrid.
He must be stopped from going.
Have there been arrests? There's been no word in the press.
It's too early. It just started.
Anyway, if Juan shows up, have him wait here for new orders.
Okay, but I bet he's going to cross at Perpignan.
Perpignan. Here we are.
At 3:34 p.m., you leave Bayonne for Toulouse.
You arrive in Toulouse at 8:34 p.m.
You catch the train for Narbonne at 9:13 p.m.
At 11:01 p.m., in Narbonne, you catch the train to Perpignan.
You arrive in Perpignan at 11:55 p.m.
Not exactly an express.
No, not exactly.
Juan hasn't crossed over yet, unless he went through Perpignan.
You don't know. You can do nothing alone.
Antoine's right. You don't even know who's in charge in Perpignan.
You should go to Paris. Juan is probably still there.
You'll find him home.
You need to see your people-- today.
Explain the Madrid situation to them, that nobody should go there.
Eepecially not Juan. He would be walking into a trap.
-If she hasn't told Lucienne, we're sunk. -We are?
- How can she do it without Lucienne? - She's used to it.
- Was she used to it at Royan last year? - That's different. She wasn't at home.
Lucienne didn't leave just to be with her nephews. Something happened.
You always dramatize.
I know what I'm saying. She is lost without Lucienne!
Didn't she ask Lucienne to come?
The Marcels make two. Unless Pierre comes. Two or three.
Then there's us, Raoul, her two daughters, their husbands.
- And no Lucienne! - Lucienne may be the first one there.
Without Lucienne, we're sunk!
Don't fret. Remember, it's a holiday reunion.
Holiday? With everyone in a foul mood?
Lucienne's not even family. Don't exaggerate.
So what if she's not family?
Without her, we're a pretty family!
- I was sent by Antonio. - What?
- Madame Lopez? - No, I'm Madame Pluvier.
Sorry, I'm looking for Madame Lopez.
There's no Madame Lopez here.
Building G, 10th floor, number 107.
That's right, but there's no Madame Lopez here.
Then I've made a mistake.
I beg your pardon.
Is she a refugee from Algeria?
A refugee? No, I don't think so.
I mean, on account of the name. There's lots of them around here.
Thank you. Good-bye.
You came to see Juan a year ago.
Building G, 10th floor, number 107.
Care of Madame Lopez, you thought.
But there's no Juan now, no Madame Lopez.
Maybe it was some other Building G, some other 10th floor.
Perhaps Juan did go, and he'll walk right into the trap.
Roberto. You must find Roberto now.
She'll wonder what's wrong.
She'll realize something's happened to her husband.
You'd rather not see her today.
And yet you need her. She's the one who can take you to Roberto.
Last Thursday at 6:00 p.m...
Andres failed to show up at the Botanical Gardens.
You had a beer at the Cafe Nacional.
You thought nothing of it.
You assumed you'd see Andres at the next meeting place.
But toward nightfall came signs of approaching danger.
The comrade who operates the print shop failed to come home.
His brother notified the others.
The closed little world we live in...
became unsettled and full of snares.
What is it? Is something wrong?
Andres? What's happened to Andres?
By Friday it was clear that Andres had disappeared...
and Luis and Jueto and Ricardo.
In the shadows we began to fight...
the unpredictable progress of the police roundups...
severing the links that bound one group to another...
suspending all meetings, all contacts, setting new liaison networks.
But Andres had disappeared-- he has disappeared.
He could have disappeared any day now for 15 years.
Carmen had expected, already accepted, in anguish and rage...
this disappearance that bursts upon her today.
Thursday evening at 6:00 p.m...
Andres did not show up at the Botanical Gardens.
But you must wrest her from her grief, her solitude.
She knows where to find Roberto today...
among all these houses which empty as the weekend draws to a close...
among all these lights on a Sunday night.
Roberto organizes the crossings.
Only he will know where to find Juan today.
He alone can catch up with Juan before he too vanishes.
Roberto hates bad news.
An arrest gets on his nerves...
not just because it means losing a comrade...
not just because of the months and years of work...
to be done over from scratch...
but becauee the reality of the world resists us...
because our actions seem like a dream of indefinite progress.
He hates when reality clashes with his dream.
It's as if he blames you...
for being the malicioue messenger of the opaque reality...
that we cannot predict.
You have visitors.
I'll be damned! Carlos!
Why are you shouting?
What are you doing here?
You've put on some weight.
Getting old. The easy life, you know.
Did Juan get away all right this morning?
At noon. I finished his car last night and he left today at noon.
- Which way did he go? - Perpignan.
- And then to Barcelona? - Yes, to Barcelona.
Just at noon?
Where is he going to cross? Where will he be tonight?
Tomorrow he meets the contact who will pick him up in Madrid in two weeks.
Then he crosses over.
- We can warn him, bring him back. - It's of no use.
Anyway, it's too late.
Why not phone him in Perpignan?
The phone is too risky.
Oh, come on! Then send him a wire.
Or one of us can catch the night train and reach Perpignan in time.
Look, don't get so nervous.
In the morning we meet with our comrades.
Right. We'll see tomorrow.
BORDER - TWO MILES
What's going on? Why does Juan have to come back?
He mustn't go to Madrid. They're making arrests.
Who have they arrested?
Andres and three more from the Madrid committee.
The printer as well. And it was still going on when I left.
Have you told Carmen?
We'll need to know more details to tell if it's really serious.
You know as well as I that they tend to exaggerate there.
It's natural. At the first sign of trouble, they think everything's unraveling.
They're too close to things to see the situation clearly.
And we see it better from Paris?
Yes. We have a broader perspective.
What about Juan?
He's in no danger. We have three days before he leaves Barcelona.
In Perpignan he would be even safer.
I'll take responsibility for keeping him in Perpignan.
No, I'm in charge of the trips!
He has important work to do in Barcelona.
Every minute counts now!
Are you all crazy here in Paris? Every minute has counted for 25 years.
Why speak to me of 25 years...
with a general strike called for 12 days from now?
And May 1st is no joke either, so minutes do count!
May 1st comes around every year, but Juan won't.
If he's caught, he'll get 20 years, and you know it as well as I.
As far as the strike goes, we'll discuss that tomorrow.
Listen, if you need someone to go to Barcelona, I'd be happy to go.
- It'd get me out this rut. - This rut?
Is your wife a rut now? Are you having second thoughts?
These Breton women are amazing.
I talk about an undercover mission to help a comrade in danger...
and you'd think I was off on a vacation.
If anyone goes to Barcelona, I should go.
Don't stand there all night. Come in the house and have a drink
Good idea, but bring it out here. I have to finish up this car.
- How did it start this time? - Probably the same way it always does.
- Of course. It's always the same. - No, it wasn't the same this time.
No, they struck several places at the same moment.
The printing press and the men working it-- all taken at once.
Andres and Luis were taken in their hideouts.
It's the first time that's happened.
So Juan could be in danger in Madrid?
The raid took place in his sector.
He's been going there for years. He may have been spotted.
What about you? You've been going there for years too.
Yet here you are, drinking wine with us.
Luis' wife heard the police say during the search...
they had pictures of a Paris leader taken with a telephoto lens...
they were sure to arrest next.
- It has to be Juan. - Films, photos-- it's all fabrication!
The police spread these rumors to demoralize the opposition.
Thursday, the very day the arrests were made...
didn't you have an appointment with Andres?
Yet here you are.
Because there is no photo, and Andres won't talk.
It's very simple.
They struck at us because they're afraid!
They want to nip our preparations in the bud.
They conducted a raid. So what? They've been doing that for 25 years!
That's how war is: They strike, and we strike back!
- Don't get excited. - I'm not excited.
I may raise my voice, but it means nothing. It's this crazy life we lead.
What's crazy is that it's gone on this long.
Tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m. at the Pierre Curie station.
Marianne must be waiting for you.
You didn't let her know you were coming?
She's probably left Paris.
Besides, I didn't come for her. I came for Juan.
- Yes, she must be out of town. - Why?
- Because it's Easter. - So it is. You see? One forgets!
if you find the house empty, come sleep here.
- Is it you? - That depends.
Was it you on the phone this morning?
Yes. I recognize your voice.
I waited for you until now.
Your father isn't home?
If he were, God knows where you would be now!
You don't know how true that is.
But I do know.
They ask to speak to my father.
I say he's on a trip, which is the truth.
For once, the truth served a useful purpose.
What happened at the border?
A spot check. Mere routine.
But they picked us this time. The phone call could have ruined it.
They mentioned Spain and I knew right away.
My father told me about the passport.
We have a weakness for Spain in our family.
So I pretended to be alarmed. I asked lots of questions.
I even demanded to talk to my father.
I was admirable, full of daughterly anxiety.
In any case, you kept your cool. You got me out of a fix.
It's not the first time.
So tell me, how was I in the role of the affectionate father?
When my father feels affectionate, he doesn't call me "darling."
He calls me "Nana."
I'm sure the border incident was nothing at all.
But suppose they were to make inquiries in Paris.
- When does your father return? - Tomorrow night.
Then he must have his passport to show just in case.
- I'll bring it by tomorrow afternoon. - You're leaving?
If I hurry, I can just make the 10:00 show.
What do you do?
Besides this, I mean.
- Nothing else. - Nothing else ever?
- Not for ages. - And before that?
Long ago, I think I wanted to write. Same as everyone.
What you do is far more interesting!
-So you're a professional revolutionary? -That's it precisely.
A real professional.
What a terrific profession!
How is a passport falsified? Can't they tell the photo was replaced?
No, they'd have to check police files to see whether the photo is fake.
But they don't keep those files at the border.
So you could be my father.
That's right, Nana.
- Are you leaving? - Yes.
Is someone expecting you?
What's your real name?
Sometimes it startles me to hear my real name.
What is it?
That means "Sunday."
What time shall I bring the passport by tomorrow?
After lunch, but no later than 3:30. I have to meet somebody.
Rue de l'Estrapade, number 7, third floor.
Born October 26, 1944.
Completed her secondary studies at the Lycee Fenelon.
Begins her university studies this year.
Speaks English fluently, Spanish as well.
Lives with her father, civil service engineer for the government...
who is often away because of his work.
Five feet five...
brunette, brown eyes, appendicitis three years ago.
- Is that me? - This data came with the passport.
You don't miss a detail!
No, not a detail.
It's the big picture we sometimes lose sight of.
See you tomorrow.
Good night, Sunday.
I'm not alone. We're working.
And to think I took my time coming home.
I was sure you wouldn't be in Paris.
No one told me.
No one knew. It was unexpected.
- Diego. - Yes?
Nothing.Just saying your name.
You're here. I am happy.
I'm leaving again.
- You are? - Tomorrow.
You know Agnes?
I thought you had already met.
- I don't think so. - I'm sure we haven't.
You never saw Agnes at the office?
No, never. Impossible!
Diego is always traveling.
Every time I asked Marianne to introduce us, you were away on a trip.
I even began to wonder whether you really existed!
Now you see I really do exist.
Stay with us for a while. We've finished.
Jeanine and Bill will be so glad to see you again.
We're doing a book on all the cities of the world.
That is, on the way a city speaks to its inhabitants...
and how people answer back, and how this becomes a language.
It's complicated to explain, but in pictures it's simple.
We'll mix Bill's photographs with drawings by Folon and Topor.
Agnes and I are doing the layout.
Bill's off to Brazil...
so we're choosing some of the first pictures before he goes.
We're taking advantage of the Easter holiday.
We've set up shop here, where it's so peaceful.
They'll wonder if you don't come and say hello.
Want something to eat, Diego?
No, I ate on the plane.
The weather was beautiful.
The fountains are still there.
On Piazza Navona.
The Pincio fountains. All the fountains.
- Haven't you ever been in Rome? - Rome? Yes, of course.
- What took you to Rome? - Work.
Didn't you know that I work occasionally?
A conference sponsored by UNESCO. Teaching in underdeveloped countries.
You haven't grown tired of working as an interpreter?
It pays well. No taxes.
You work six months a year. You travel.
I'm not ambitious.
It's time we left you two alone.
Yes, it is late.
It seems things in Spain are stirring.
Yes. As Marianne says, "It's forever stirring but it never changes."
And what do you say?
I'm your friend, Diego.
Nobody would like what I have to say about Spain.
I'm not even sure I like it myself.
Poor, unhappy Spain. Heroic, gallant Spain. I'm sick of it!
Spain's become the lyrical rallying point of the left.
A myth for veterans of past wars.
Meanwhile, 14 million tourists vacation in Spain every year.
Spain is nothing but a tourist's dream or a civil-war myth...
all bundled up with Lorca's plays-- and I'm fed up with Lorca's plays.
Sterile women and peasant dramas!
And you can have the legend too!
I was not at Verdun, or Teruel, or at the front at Ebro.
And the people now doing what counts in Spain weren't either.
Twenty-year-olds, inspired not by our past, but by their future.
Spain is no longer the dream of 1936 but the truth of 1965...
Thirty years have gone by, and veterans give me a pain in the ass!
It's all sort of muddled.
I'll see you then.
Right. See you tomorrow.
- Good night. - I'm staying.
- You are? - Yes.
I should help Marianne put away the photos.
Then I'll drive you home.
Agnes lives in St. Cloud, and there are no more trains at this hour.
Good night all the same.
Why was that little bitch asking all those questions?
You talked about Rome and UNESCO.
Just ten minutes earlier, I said you were in Brussels with the United Nations.
If they think I'm a liar, too bad!
You? Why just you? if you lied, so did I!
It's our life that seems like a lie.
Didn't you hear Agnes? A fake couple living a fake life!
Maybe that's what it seems like.
But it's not true.
For me it wasn't a lie.
You spoke of the fountains. I was happy.
The Piazza Navona must be deserted now.
You can hear the water splashing.
- Where are you going? - To take Agnes home.
Can't the little bitch take a cab?
She's broke. I promised.
St. Cloud is a long way away.
I wonder if it might not be better to tell the truth.
Sure. Let's put an ad in the paper!
But we can tell Jeanine and Bill anything.
And your Agnes too?
You think they don't suspect when you go on like you did earlier?
No, Bill doesn't.
He's a photographer. He does his work.
Anyway, we can't tell anybody anything.
- It's a question of principle. - Your principles scare me.
There have been arrests in Madrid. Many of my colleagues have fallen.
I want a child by you. This is no life!
What is a life?
A child by you. Can you imagine?
We'll discuss it calmly.
My child. It's not something to discuss calmly.
Afterwards you can go away, leave me, even forget me if you like.
This isn't the time.
Yes, it is the time.
When did they start?
Thursday, three days ago.
What does it make you want when things like that happen?
Want? What do you mean?
Does it make you want to go on doing what you're doing...
even if you're left all alone?
One is never left all alone.
We must let them know that we exist. That the work still goes on.
I'll be back.
Agnes? Are you ready?
Now, to remove the photo.
A lucky star, madame.
A tiny little star for personal use.
A starfish for every purpose.
All right. This goes here...
and this goes over there.
Dinner in Madrid, 230.
For patience and irony...
are the chief virtues of a Bolshevik.
"My name is Nana."
And mine is Sunday.
Six months without seeing you, Diego.
It's not possible.
If you had to stay here-- I don't know--
If things became too dangerous for you to go to Madrid, would you miss it?
I would miss Spain.
I really would.
Like something you would miss terribly...
whose absence would be unbearable.
Strangers who open a door who recognize you and whom you recognize.
Being part of something together.
Spain. Your people.
That's your life.
The other day I almost slept with a man.
I thought I wanted to.
No. I mean why tell me?
Would you tell, Diego?
I don't know.
Why didn't you?
the moment always comes when you're through sleeping with a man.
When you're through making love.
At that point...
he should be gone. He should have disappeared.
To wake up beside anyone but you...
It's only later that things get complicated.
Don't you agree?
I thought you ate on the plane from Rome.
Nine years ago, I was the one you told your lies to.
A torrent of lies to hide who you were and what you were doing in Rome.
You told me your name was Francisco...
and then Rafael...
and then Carlos.
I spent months, both in Rome and in Paris...
sorting out your truth from your lies.
They weren't lies.
They were barriers.
Falling in love isn't on the agenda for a professional revolutionary.
Above all, patience.
I'm starved. Don't you have anything to eat?
Next year, if you're still spending half your time in Madrid...
I'm going to move there.
Move there? What do you mean?
Live there. Find some work that lets me follow you around.
I like having houses in different places.
In Madrid? You barely speak ten words of Spanish.
I learned French well enough.
Anyway, what kind of work?
Same as here. They publish books in Spain too.
Well, we wouldn't get far on my 800 francs a month.
I thought you got a raise.
You're right. 875 francs.
And what do you make here?
Three thousand a month?
- You'd never make that much there. - I don't need to make that much.
I need you.
Anyway, it's out of the question.
A girlfriend in the same city where I'm working in the underground? Too risky.
Was it serious this time?
Did they arrest people from Paris? People I know?
- You know Juan-- - Juan was arrested?
No, not yet. That's why I came back.
I'm sure they have his picture.
Ivry, Porte des Lilas, Six-Routes...
la Poterne des Peupliers, Victor-Hugo...
Jaures, Paul Vaillant-Couturier.
You know these suburbs like the back of your hand.
You arrive from your own country...
and at your every return you find this landscape of exile.
You see once more those desiccated, tireless, worn-out men...
fastidious about detail but less clear about the larger picture...
ready to die: your comrades.
You'll again find this comradeship...
irreplaceable and yet eaten away by a lack of reality.
You'll spend whole days in Ivry or Aubervilliers...
trying to rebuild your country...
in the likeness of your memory.
Toiling stubbornly to force your dreams into the far-off reality of Spain.
How goes it?
- How are you? - Fine. And you?
- You had a good trip? - Yes.
It's in the paper.
"According to official sources...
the Spanish police has been carrying out...
a vast preventive operation...
against various extreme-left working-class groups in Madrid.
A printing press was seized and several dozen arrests were made...
including ringleaders who entered the country illegally from France.
These measures appear to be directly linked to the unrest...
during recent months among the working classes in Madrid."
- Here. I know you all like coffee. - Good idea.
I'm going to run some errands.
If the doorbell rings, don't answer.
All right. We can begin.
I'll try to sum up the situation, comrades...
based on the information we had received by Saturday.
You again have the feeling you've lived this before...
that you've said all this before over the years.
How often have you come here after a wave of arrests, after a "fall"?
They call it a "fall" in Spanish.
They say a colleague has "fallen"...
that a printing press or an organization has "fallen."
Sooner or later, say the old-timers, everybody falls.
The road is long and marked by falls.
How often have you come here to examine why these falls occurred...
or to decide what measures to take next?
Andres did not show up for the meeting at the Botanical Gardens.
That's when it all started: Thursday, three days ago.
We must therefore withdraw the call to strike in Madrid.
I must say, in general, I disagree with the directive in this case.
Carlos has given us a completely subjective view of the situation.
Carlos has given us a completely subjective view of the situation.
He exaggerates the consequences of the arrests currently being made.
Indeed, he seems to have lost all political perspective.
What is the situation that has led to these arrests?
A political offensive by the working class...
by students and peasants.
A situation where the dictatorship is desperate and on its last legs.
Even the current arrests reflect...
the regime's fear in the face of resistance by the masses.
Under these conditions, they cannot halt...
the movement's advance, its spread, its progress.
We are on the eve of a general strike.
That is why we decided to send Juan to Madrid...
with precise orders and instructions.
The mass movement must be organized and given a single goal.
That goal is the general strike.
The requisite conditions exist and we must act now.
A date had to be set and we have set it.
The strike is called for April 30th...
with nationwide demonstrations on May 1st.
Carlos disagrees with the decision to call a general strike.
He says we must bear in mind the realities of the situation.
But what does "realities of the situation" really mean?
That we should allow the political situation to come to a head on its own?
That's mere opportunism, pure and simple!
I never said we should just let things develop spontaneously.
You never said we should just let things develop spontaneously.
You merely question certain forms of action under certain conditions.
A general strike is not the sole form of struggle...
an inevitable finale.
Lenin voiced criticisms of a general strike...
insofar as it tends to preclude other forms of struggle.
If you wish to discuss Lenin, then we'll discuss Lenin.
You accuse us of voluntarism, but Lenin proved precisely that...
a dose of voluntarism, of revolutionary subjectivism, is indispensable.
Your criticism is purely negative.
What are you really proposing?
Criticism is always negative at first.
You try to make yourself understood...
to explain it's not the idea of a general strike you're criticizing...
but merely the specific situation to which it's being applied.
You oppose the call for a general strike on April 30th...
because the required conditions are absent.
Another failure may discourage the masses from this form of action.
You oppose deciding from a position of exile...
a plan of action and its date of execution in Spain.
We cannot be proxies for workers in Bilbao, Barcelona, Madrid...
or decide for them.
Our underground can only organize and serve as an instrument...
to carry out the will of the masses.
It cannot replace that will.
Why speak of exiles as if they were in opposition to those in Spain...
the underground in opposition to the masses?
No, I don't.
I only mean one cannot replace the other.
It would be absurd to imply...
that Carlos has been intimidated by the arrests.
Over the past ten years he has often proven he's not easily intimidated.
But he has been lacking in political insight.
Just what is the situation?
Juan is in Barcelona.
He is scheduled to meet Carlos in Madrid on Thursday.
But Carlos is here and Juan has been left to his own devices.
We must reach Juan in Barcelona...
and set up another contact for him with the group in Madrid.
We're forced to increase the number of trips...
and, as a result, the risk automatically increases too.
This is what Carlos' undue haste has led to.
But if Carlos had instead remained in Madrid...
he could have followed the raid hour by hour.
He could have taken certain steps.
Juan would be protected by Carlos' presence in Madrid.
These are the results of an individual decision lightly taken...
without taking into account the constraints of the act...
or respecting the decisions made by the central committee.
You're not going to Barcelona. You're staying here.
Ramon will go and accompany Juan to Madrid.
You just spent six months in Spain, in the hub of day-to-day action.
Perhaps the details of a partial reality have blinded you.
The dozens of tiny, true little details have clouded your vision.
You'll take a break. You need to think things over.
Discuss matters calmly with others. Let them set you straight.
You're staying here.
Here it is.
Born October 17, 1922.
It will just take a minute.
We need a passport for Ramon.
- When? - Today.
- This afternoon. - Always in a rush!
- Speak French, all right? - Yes, of course.
The work going well?
Yes, let me talk to her.
I'm not leaving anymore.
Yes, I'm staying here with you.
Unhappy? No. Why?
A long time.
We'll take a vacation.
All right. See you tonight.
ENJOY THE SUN AND SURF VACATION AT LA PINEDA
Who is it?
- It's Sunday. - No, it's Monday.
I know it's Monday. I'm Sunday.
I expected you. Aren't you coming?
I was busy. I have that thing for you.
- I have to go out now. - I know you have a date. Where?
What does that matter if you're not coming?
No, I was just wondering.
At "La Chope. "Know it?
- Yes, I do. - What's so funny?
Nothing. How about 6:00?
The lobby of Bullier Hall, 6:00.
- Why not my house? - I'd prefer somewhere else, all right?
6:00 then. Bye.
- What would you like? - Coffee.
You wouldn't have a cigarette, would you?
This place is lousy with cops.
I wouldn't know.
I would. I work for them.
- But nobody followed me! - You're crazy!
- There were three of them in a car. - Are you sure?
I should know-- it's my job!
A car? I can't believe it. I even took one-way streets.
One got out and followed you.
I tailed him. You saw nothing?
Some men did look at me, but not like that. It does happen on occasion.
- Why are the cops on your tail? - You think it's the police?
I ought to know. What do you do that might interest the police?
- Nothing. - That's not true.
- Why are you speaking to me like that? - I have to know!
If they are cops, it's dangerous for you to meet me. They'll spot you.
They're still tailing your boyfriend at Edgar-Quinet.
- Miguel? - Yes, the guy with you.
- At Edgar-Quinet? - So you were hiding something.
Go on. Tell me what happened.
You split up at Maubert. Your friend took the Metro.
The younger cop followed him. We all got off at Raspail.
- Your friend went into a house. - What about the cop?
The cop wrote down the number and left, unless he's still hiding nearby.
I've got to go. They may be planning to make a search.
You must help me. It's serious.
They're working for Spain too, you know.
I'm taking Papa's car to pick him up at the station.
- Would you care to explain? - I can't, Domingo. Later.
Turn left, then continue along the cemetery.
I don't see anyone. Turn on your lights.
Go ahead now.
- How long? - I don't know. Five minutes.
I'll pick you up in ten minutes in front of the Delambre movie theater.
The registration's in the glove compartment. You have a license?
- Several. - I mean a real one.
Yes, even a real one!
- What's that? - A suitcase.
Of course it's a suitcase.
- It looks heavy. - Papers and more papers.
- I'll let you work. - We're just finishing up.
Who was the woman I passed in the hall?
I want to say, about last night--
Well, If I can ever be of help--
A photographer gets around, you know.
That's all. I'm sure Agnes must be mad with curiosity.
Bill took Agnes home. He said we've done enough today.
- What's going on? - Nothing. Why?
You had a visitor. That dark, thin fellow who seems to hate me.
What are you saying?
That's my impression. Or he distrusts me.
- You're crazy. - I can tell.
He's suspicious of my work, the way I dress.
He must think I'm the wrong kind of woman for an agent like you.
So what did he want?
He seemed very agitated.
He came by twice and made me repeat the message. He must take me for a fool!
Anyway, plans have changed.
You're not staying. You're going to Barcelona.
He expects you at 11:00 a.m. at the same Metro exit as today.
You'll meet to discuss your trip.
You'll eat there and leave directly from the meeting.
Take your things with you. They'll bring a passport.
He didn't say why I'm going?
It's not his style to give explanations.
I'm fed up. Completely fed up!
This morning I'd lost all political perspective. I needed a break.
I needed to think, talk it over...
which means engage in self-criticism-- That's what they really meant.
Now I'm suddenly fit to send to Barcelona, just like that.
Well, they can find someone else!
No need to get up at the crack of dawn, since you don't leave till noon.
Would you like to go out tonight?
I thought this was no life.
No, it's not a life.
What do you want to do?
I don't know.
If you'd like.
- What do you want to see? - Whatever you say. I don't care.
Would you mind driving me to the station before the movie?
I'd like to check this suitcase there.
- Because. - But why?
- I prefer not to keep it here. - You've always kept your papers here.
All the same, I prefer not to.
- There's nothing else? - What else?
Something you haven't told me?
Nothing of consequence. Just incidental details.
I love you, Diego.
I know you do.
Is that for us?
Yes, it is.
what about your lights?
You're right. I forgot.
Your registration, please.
- Is the car yours? - Yes, Officer.
- Are you the husband? - No, I'm not the husband.
Your driver's license, please.
You're not French?
- What are you? - Spanish. A Spanish refugee.
Your papers, please.
You have them.
do you realize what driving without lights could cost you?
No, this is the first time it's happened to me.
You shouldn't trust your car to absent-minded people.
All right. Go ahead this time.
- But be more careful in the future. - Thank you, Officer.
Don't you want me to go? Didn't you hear him?
"Don't trust your suitcase to absent-minded people."
Do you really know how the lockers work?
"Are you the husband?" "No, I'm not the husband."
You should have seen your face!
Do I have the face of a husband?
No, but I am a wife to you anyway.
Stop at that cafe.
- I have to make a call. - Now? Before the movie?
I'll just be a minute.
- Did Manolo say 11:00? - Who?
- The little thin man? 11:00 sharp. - I'll be right back.
I'm sorry to bother you this late, sir. May I speak to Nadine?
I must see you and your friends tomorrow.
The afternoon is too late.
Too late for everything!
9:00 sharp. Same Metro stop as today.
On the platform, "Etoile" side.
Without fail, Nadine. Good-bye.
Nothing. I just had to arrange for someone to pick up the suitcase.
It couldn't wait?
Manolo could have come for it at the house.
Do you mind If I conduct my work as I see fit?
The truth is, it's not just the suitcase.
You want me to tell you?
I don't want anything, but you're going to tell me anyway, so go on.
Yesterday you wanted to go to Barcelona to head off Juan...
but you were on edge.
You exploded in front of Jeanine and Bill.
You, who are always so cautious.
You think you sounded like a UNESCO interpreter?
By noon today, you weren't leaving.
You said, "I'm staying here with you."
But you were unhappy.
What happened this morning?
- This morning? - At your meeting.
You seem to be drifting, Diego.
It's like you're in a fog, no longer sure where you're going.
I know where I'm going: Barcelona.
I suppose I'll accompany Juan to Madrid and then return here.
I must take a break, talk things over with them.
You see, in Spain I see things from too close-up.
Reality blinds me.
I must regain a broader perspective, even if it's unreal.
- I don't understand you anymore. - It's very simple.
Our people live in the belief that it will all blow sky-high any day now.
And that's all right. No one can stand the idea of dying in exile.
But it's not true. There's still a long road ahead of us.
That can't be! It's true that it has to explode!
"Various opposition forces in the Basque region...
have jointly decided to call a general strike...
beginning April 30th at 8:00 a.m.
Students will also participate.
The strike will last a week...
but, if repressed, it will go on indefinitely."
Mumbojumbo, like carrying idols to make it rain.
No, I hope that general strike will really happen.
There will be isolated incidents, small factions. Nothing big.
It's an unreal action.
I hope you're wrong. The general strike will take place!
Isn't this what you all have wanted for years?
Isn't that why your comrades are dead or in prison?
I hope you're wrong. I hope you're really blind!
Things have to change...
so you can go back to Spain.
And so I can go with you.
So we can finally have a life together.
Crying and shouting won't help. That's not going to change reality.
- Shall we go home? - Yes, let's go home.
What are you doing?
Nothing. Just looking at the night.
I must have a child by you, Diego.
Otherwise, I'll go mad.
If I went back to Spain...
if I started all over again from zero, would you come with me?
You mean, return to Spain, now, the normal way?
Under your real identity?
Yes, my real identity. The normal way.
Anyhow, the place to be is Spain. That's where things will happen.
I didn't become an agent to spend my life in Paris suburbs...
going from one meeting to another. It's not for me.
Do you think it's possible?
You think it's possible the police don't know your true identity?
I'm sure they've heard of Carlos...
but they never heard of Diego Mora.
Well, then, we go to Spain!
Why did you open the suitcase?
- I don't like lies about these things. - I didn't lie.
I just asked you to keep a suitcase for me. That's all.
- With explosives in it. - Does that scare you?
I've been handling them since I was 17.
What got you involved with Spain?
What about you?
It's my own country!
So no one but you has a right to get involved with your country?
Every man for himself in his own little corner, is that it?
Should we confine ourselves to problems at the university...
or the crisis in the artichoke crop?
I thought we were more internationalist!
Internationalism means putting your own country in order first.
Papa lends you his passport, and I carry suitcases.
Yes, let's talk about that suitcase.
Here's your father's passport.
- What floor is it? - Why? Aren't you coming with me?
You go on alone. I'll follow.
You don't trust me?
My comings and goings are for me to decide.
I gather you don't like cemeteries.
But they clear the view. They bring a little sunshine into one's life.
What exactly do you stand for?
You don't collect explosives just for fun.
What's your group, your program?
Leninist Group for Revolutionary Action.
Everyone's a Leninist these days.
Let's not get bogged down in a discussion about theory.
Nadine gave you a suitcase that belongs to us.
What do you plan to do with it?
I should have tossed it in the Seine...
but I'm curious about the tactics you advocate for Spain.
I've come here entirely on my own.
Explain it to him.
For 25 years, Spain has been in a latent prerevolutionary state.
To sum it up...
tourism is one of the regime's main sources of income.
In addition, millions of people learn...
to look on Spain as a normal country.
For them, Spain is a memory of a pleasant vacation.
This is an extremely dangerous political hoax...
demobilizing antifascist action in Europe.
This is why we must strike a blow at tourism in Spain!
- Create a climate which will stop it! - Why not stop the sun too?
We strike at the economy and awaken proletarian conscience in one blow!
- Because it's asleep? - Sorry, I didn't mean that.
I say a revolutionary state exists in Spain, objectively speaking.
But there is no revolutionary policy or front. Lenin said--
Lenin's no prayerwheel!
Your peaceful methods amount to revisionism, pure and simple.
Objectively speaking, you're following in the wake of the Spanish bourgeoisie.
- Objectively? - That's right.
And that's why, for 20 years, we've been hounded...
jailed, pushed out of windows, shot...
and given the stiffest sentences?
Because, objectively speaking, we're in the service of the bourgeoisie?
He said "in the wake of," not "in the service of."
He was using a political concept.
You turned it into a moral judgment.
We do not question the ability or the heroism of your members.
- But we do question your approach. - For example?
Issuing a new directive for a general strike on April 30th...
and heading for a new failure.
You're very sure of yourself.
I judge from past experience.
Since 1959, every general strike called in this way has been a failure.
Since 1959? That's what-- six years?
The validity of a strategic tactic cannot be judged over so short a period.
You're very impatient for people engaged in revolution.
Then let's talk about that suitcase.
Yes, let's! That stupid stunt nearly got me caught by the cops!
- Or perhaps the other way around? - Who led the cops to Nadine?
You, the person who used Rene Sallanches' passport.
They began to tail us from Nadine's house because of you.
Because of the incident at the border.
It's the only reasonable explanation.
The question is, how long were you tailed...
and did the Spanish police alert the French?
In any event, they can't pin anything on us.
We've done nothing.
But all you terrorist groups get finished off in short order!
What in the hell would I do with your explosives? Eat them?
You'll find the suitcase in this locker. Go blow yourselves up!
- You left, just like that! - I'm late.
Will you give me a call tonight?
An old woman like me-- You could pay a little more attention!
Call me tomorrow?
Are you leaving?
Will you call me when you get back?
You are coming back?
- What happened to you? - Nothing. I'll explain.
- Twenty minutes late! - Okay, okay. I'm here now.
You didn't know Ramon was dead. They're about to tell you.
He died Sunday night, a few hours after you saw him.
His heart gave out, as they say.
Ramon wanted to go to Barcelona to get away from the routine.
Tricked-up care, suitcases with false bottoms.
Working in the shadows for 15 yeare.
Now you're going to go. You will take his place.
Because the work goes on and no single death can interrupt it.
Number 45, third floor right.
- And the password? - "The sun rises over Benidorm."
When is the funeral?
We received a letter from Madrid today.
Things are not as serious as they seemed.
Ramon never saw Spain, the land of his parents.
You will see the trees of Gerona...
and the vineyards along the road with Ramon's eyes.
On this trip you will feel the delight Ramon would have felt.
There will be a strike in Madrid as well on April 30th.
And on May 1st on the Gran Via!
You didn't know Ramon was dead.
There were shadows, trees, sunlight-- and Ramon was dead.
"Death brings sunshine into your life, " you were told a while ago.
You laughed, but you should have shouted at him to shut up...
for Ramon is dead and his shadow has entered your life...
the shadow of death which has followed you since the day you were born.
You think to yourself there will be no strike in Madrid on April 30th...
but you're seized again by the comradeship of long battles...
by the stubborn joy of taking action.
You'll find Juan and accompany him to Madrid.
Once again you'll knock on doors, which strangers will open.
You'll say something, anything-- "The sun is rising over Benidorm "...
or "Almond trees bloom in Antonio's garden "...
and they'll let you in, and you'll be together, for those are the passwords.
You'll see it all with Ramon's eyes:
the sky, the vineyards, strangers' faces.
All Ramon's joys will be yours...
as if it were your first trip and the battle were just beginning.
Your buddy's downstairs. He's waiting with the car.
- Damn! - What's wrong?
My name is Chauvin!
My name is Andre Sarlat.
Mine is Gabriel Chauvin.
Chauvin? Hell of a name!
- We can swap life stories. - Shall we tell the truth or make it up?
Make it up. The truth is of no importance.
We're supposed to make tracks, so let's make 'em.
You'll have to fill me in on things. It's my first time.
You'll see. It's simple. So let's make tracks.
- Papa came home Sunday. - The concierge told me it was Monday.
She's old. She gets confused.
Too bad he's not in. I would have liked to take a look at his passport.
It's right here.
Everything's in order.
Sorry to have disturbed you.
Politics can be a tricky affair.
There's more than just smuggling taking place on the Spanish border.
Last Sunday we received an alert on a car and its passenger.
The man is wanted in Madrid.
They let him cross, along with his French driver...
because they're sure they'll catch him when he returns.
At least, that's what they say.
But if your father's passport is here...
it's not wandering around somewhere else, right?
Another false tip.
Anyway, politics are always a tricky affair.
Some of these underground characters...
turn up one day as cabinet ministers.
Papa, you must warn your friends!
They came about the passport.
You're right. I'll be right over.
You're lucky, madame. We just had a cancellation.
No luggage? You can board right away. One flight up.
- Have a nice trip. - Thank you.
I've got my ticket.
Is everything clear? You remember everything?
The address of the house and what you have to say?
Rue Aribau, number 45, third floor right.
I ask to speak to Teresa and I say, "The sun rises over Benidorm."
That they are not to go to Madrid. That they are both to come back, right?
That Juan and he should return by separate routes.
Right. That they should come back.
I don't know why Carlos didn't tell us...
about that incident the other day at the border.
Anyway, we'll see.
But it will work out. You have just enough time.
But it will work out.
Have a good trip.
Wag The Dog
Waga seishun ni kuinashi 1946
Wait Until Dark CD1
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Waking Ned Devine (1998)
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Way We Were The
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We Are No Angels 1989
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Wedding Planner The
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What Fault Is It Of Ours 2003 CD1
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What Planet Are You From
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What Women Want
What Women Want CD1
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What a Girl Wants
What a Way to Go 1964
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane 1962
Whatever It Takes
Whats Eating Gilbert Grapewegg CD1
Whats Eating Gilbert Grapewegg CD2
Whats Love Got To Do With It 1993
Whats New Pussycat
Whats The Worst That Could Happen
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Wheels on Meals
When A Man Loves A Woman 1994 CD1
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When Harry Met Sally
When I Turned Nine 2004 CD1
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When Ruoma Was Seventeen 2002
When The Last Sword Is Drawn 2003 CD1
When The Last Sword Is Drawn 2003 CD2
When Will I Be Loved 2004
When the Rain Lifts 1999
When the Sky Falls
When we were kings
Where Angels Go Trouble Follows (James Neilson 1968)
Where Eagles Dare CD1
Where Eagles Dare CD2
Where The Heart Is
Where the Red Fern Grows 2003
Where the Sidewalk Ends
Whisper of the Heart
White Fang - To the Rescue
White Man Cant Jump CD1
White Man Cant Jump CD2
White Sheik The
White Sun Of The Desert 1970
White Valentine - 25fps - 1999
White Valentine 1999
Who Are You 2002 CD1
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Who Is Cletis Tout
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Whole Nine Yards The
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Wicked - 29,970fps 1998
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Wicked City - 1973
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Wild Bunch The
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