Au revoir, les enfants Louis Malle
1. Lyon railway station, Paris, 3rd Jan, 1944.
A woman aged 40 and a boy of 12 are standing in front of a wooden railway carriage, the kind which used to have a door for each compartment. They are facing each other, standing still surrounded by moving passengers.
He is dressed in short trousers, a navy blue jumper and a black cape.
She is wearing a fancy hat and a wartime 40s style fur coat which reaches down to her knees. It is noticeable that she has put on her makeup too quickly: one cheek is pinker than the other, her lipstick has spread beyond her lips.
Mother: Julien, you promised me you wouldn’t.
Julien: (looking down): I’m not crying. Not even a bit.
Mother: I’ll come and see you both in 3 weeks time. And then you can go out for Shrove Tuesday. You’ll see, the time will pass very quickly.
Julien looks up. His eyes are tearful.
Julien: Why do you say that? You know fine the time will not pass quickly.
Mother: Your father and I will write to you often.
Julien: I don’t care. I hate you both.
Behind them, 2 boys are getting on the train with their rucksacks.
Boys: Hi, Quentin… Hello, madame …
Mother: Hello, hello … At least you’ll be happy to see your friends again.
Julien: Oh yes, Sagard! What a cretin, he is! I can’t stand him.
She laughs. He throws himself at her and clasps her tightly in desperation. A whistle blows and people call out. The stationmaster waves his flag.
A boy of 16 joins them.
Boy: Still kissing your mummy goodbye, eh? Little Julien, make sure you don’t miss the train, a good pupil like you.
He smokes a last puff and throws away his cigarette butt.
Mother: I forbid you to smoke.
Francois: It’s not tobacco. It’s corn maize. It doesn’t count. Goodbye mum. Be good!
He kisses his mother and rejoins a friend who was waiting for him.
The mother kneels in front of Julien and gives him a kiss on the cheek. Her lipstick leaves a neat oval mark
Mother: Come on, get on .
She drags him towards the compartment door but he turns round, grabs her and squeezes her as tight as he can, his arms around her neck, his nose in her corsage. She whispers as she caresses his neck:
Mother: What about me? Are you not thinking of me? You think it’s fun? I miss you every minute. I’d like to dress up as a boy and follow you to school. I would see you every day. It would be our secret…
The mother’s voice is drowned out by the whistle of a train in motion.
2.
The train window is frosted over. Black soot from the coal blots out the scene for a few seconds. The locomotive engine can be heard toiling. Julien looks out at the countryside passing by. Behind him, 3 boys his age are fighting, climbing on the seats and hanging upside down from the luggage racks like monkeys.
Julien, in the window, sees the trace of lipstick on his cheek. He wipes it unconsciously, with the back of his hand. His expression has softened now. He is crying.
3.
The old quarter of a small town in
About 40 boys are going up the street in a disorderly fashion, singing a scout song as the go. They are all dressed like Julien. Their packed rucksacks form a hump under their capes. the wooden soles of their clogs click along the ground. Two unarmed German soldiers stop to watch them pass.
A young monk dressed in a brown cassock, plumpish and kind-looking, is walking along, singing with them. Father Michel, whom the pupils nickname “Mother Michel”, has bare feet in his sandals.
Father Michel: Hello Julien. Did you have a good holiday?
Julien (scowling): Yes, Father.
Father Michel: Are your parents well?
Julien: Yes, Father.
The boy next to Julien, Babinot, lisping, says:
Babinot: What did they give you for Christmas?
Julien: Books.
Babinot: Just books?
Julien: Yeah.
Babinot: What swines.
They go back to the school through a large open gate overlooking a playground.
On a plaque is written: “Carmelite Convent. Village school Saint Jean de la Croix”.
4
The dormitory for the younger pupils was at one time a chapel. Each pupil has a pigeon-hole in the cupboards along the walls, where they put their things. There are roughly 30 beds. In a corner there is a wooden box, where Moreau sleeps. He is a young prefect with no real authority. The pupils taunt him, but think he’s “ok”.
Julien, in his pyjamas, takes out of his bag some jam and a kilo of sugar. He goes to put them in his pigeon-hole when Ciron, a big lanky boy, runs off with a pot of jam.
Ciron: (adopting a German accent):
Ach. Black market, Mr Quentin. I vill arrest you. Your jam, I vill confiscate.
Julien chases him, throws him on the bed and takes back his belongings.
He walks in front of a few boys, 2 of whom are twins, who are standing around a large wood-burning stove, the only heating in the dormitory. They are looking at a photo and whispering.
Julien takes the photo and glances at it.
Julien: She doesn’t even look well-built up top.
A voice: (near the door): Look out! The “Babasses” are coming!”
“Babasses”, is the slang name that the pupils give the monks.
Father John, the headmaster of the school, an ascetic-faced man aged 40, and Father Hippolyte enter the dormitory with 3 boys who are not wearing school uniform. The youngest is wearing a beige overcoat which is too small for him. Father John leads him over to the bed next to Julien.
Each pupil gives a courteous greeting: “Good day, Father”.
Father Jean: Is this bed free?
Moreau: Yes, Father. Since D’Eparville had whooping cough.
Father Jean: You take that bed, my boy. Children, May I introduce you to Jean Bonnet, your new fellow-pupil.
With a surprising gesture, he kisses Bonnet’s forehead.
Father John: Mister Moreau, please get him a pigeon-hole. Good evening, children.
The pupils; Good evening, father.
At the door, Father John rejoins the 2 elder newcomers and Father Hippolyte. As soon as they have left, Bonnet gets a pillow right in the face, followed by several others. At the same time the jokes come thick and fast: “Who’s a Bonnet boy, then? My Bonnet lies over the ocean …”
Moreau: Give him a break and get undressed.
He points out an empty pigeon-hole to Bonnet.
The pupils put on their pyjamas or night shirts. bonnet unpacks his bag. He takes out several books which he lays out on his bed. Turning round, he sees julien watching him.
Bonnet: What’s your name?
Julien doesn’t answer. He picks up one of Bonnet’s books.
Julien (reading): “The adventures of Sherlock Holmes.” (He pronounces it Holmesse.)
The light goes out suddenly. Shouting and laughter.
Moreau: it’s just a power cut. Get to bed.
Julien and several pupils have torches. One boy places his torch under his chin which sees to light up the inside of his mouth. He jumps up and down on the spot and starts shouting in a raucous voice.
Julien goes up close to Bonnet’s face.
Julien: My name is Julien Quentin and if you are looking for me you’ll find me.
Everyone goes to bed. Bonnet, still dressed, looks at the statue of Our Lady on the wall opposite.
Julien takes a book from his bedside table, dives under the blankets and, with the light of his torch, looks for a page.
5.
Morning. The pupils pretend to wash. They hardly wet their hair, they shake themselves down and hop from one foot to the other.
Bonnet notes that against the window there is an icicle hanging down from the tap on his wash-hand basin. He breaks it off and places it delicately on the ledge.
He switches on the tap next to him. Nothing comes out for a few seconds, then a jet of ice-cold water gushes over him. He jumps back and lets out a squeal.
Bonnet: Isn’t there any hot water?
Boulanger: No, there’s no hot water. What kind of wimps do you take us for? Boulanger, a very plump boy, takes the icicle and sticks it down his shirt collar.
6. All the pupils in the school are standing in rows in the chapel, listening to Father Jean reading the Gospel at the altar dressed in his officiating garb. A few monks are standing in wooden stalls.
Boulanger seems ill at ease. He wavers, as if he has vertigo. He puts his hand to his face, several times.
Voice of Father John: Verily, verily I say unto you, except ye eat the flesh of the son of Man and drink his blood, ye have no life in you.
Suddenly, Boulanger starts to sway and falls spectacularly backwards in a dead faint. Moreau rushes over and helps a young monk to pick him up and drag him out the chapel. They pass in front of Bonnet who is sitting in the back row alongside a tall, boy with curly hair and a boy with red hair. The three new boys.
François, seated next to Julien, says:
François: We’ve got nothing to eat, we’re dying of hunger, but we’re supposed to fast to take communion. What a dump …
Julien: Are you going to take communion?
François: I’m not sucking up like you.
Father John kept on going, as if this incident was normal.
Father John: Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is real food, and my blood is real drink. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.
A sound of hands clapping. the pupils kneel and intone the offertory hymn.
Julien moves about from one knee to the other, a pained look on his face.
François: What’s wrong with you?
Julien: I’ve got chilblains in my knee.
François: (abruptly) ; Yo should drink calvados.
7.
A third year class. There are about 15 pupils present. Several, including Julien, are wearing woolen gloves, which they will keep on to write. Mr Tinchaut is walking up and down, his coat over his shoulders. Julien, standing at his desk, is reading aloud quickly and very badly.
Julien: “Star of the sea, Here is the heavy surface layer And the deep swell and the ocean of wheat and the waving foam and our over-filled granaries, Here is your glance over this immense millstone and here is your voice over this heavy plain and our absent friends and our people-emptied hearts Here extend out from us our disintegrating fists And our lassitude and our entire strength. Morning Star, inaccessible queen …”
Mr Tinchaut: Quentin, you are now ready for the Comedie-Francaise. Can you remind us? Who was Charles Péguy?
Julien: He was killed in the Great War of 1914.
Mr Tinchaut: Good. But you are starting at the end.
Julien: His mother was a chair-stuffer. (laughter)
Mr Tinchaut: Stop laughing in that stupid manner. Péguy’s mother was a woman of some worth. He goes towards bonnet.
Mr Tinchaut: Monsieur Bonnot, do you know anything about Charles Péguy?
Bonnet: No, sir. And my name is Bonnet.
Babinot: Just like Dubo, Dubo, Dubonnet.
All the others sing in chorus.
M. Tinchaut: Very funny, Babinot. Just to get you back into the swing of things now that the holidays are over, you can write out a commentary on the first 2 verses of the poem. You have half an hour.
The pupils get down to work. Julien writes a few lines, he stops. he looks up momentarily, as if in a dream. His gaze falls upon Bonnet.
Bonnet is writing rapidly, and concentrating hard. He puts his left hand up to his ear, on occasions.
a noise can be heard outside. Bonnet looks up suddenly. Julien follows his gaze.
In the playground, a very young German, with no helmet, is busy speaking to a monk.
Bonnet starts writing again. Julien takes his compass. He pokes the back of his hand with the tip, several times, until it starts to bleed.
Boulanger (his neighbour): You’re mad.
Julien: It doesn’t even hurt.
Bonnet looks at him.
8.
Both the big ones and the young ones are at interval in the school playground. Several pupils are kicking their feet against the wall and chatting. Others are on the horizontal bar under the watchful eye of the gym teacher. In the middle of the playground, about twenty pupils of all ages are standing on stilts, trying to knock each other off. In theory there should be two teams, but the game has been reduced to a series of individual fights. It is very violent, the falls are painful on the icy ground. Father Michael is playing with the pupils, trying to keep order, but he wobbles on the stilts, and Julien knocks him over.
Father Michael: Calm down, Quentin, calm down!
Sheltered behind a woodpile, François and another older boy, Pessoz, are sharing a cigarette. Bonnet is reading with his elbow leaning against the wall. Five third year pupils arrive behind him and grab hold of him. Two take him by the legs, two by the arms, with the fifth boy pressing down on his stomach, they slap him about as they usually do to any new boys. Bonnet wriggles like a worm.
Julien swerves quickly around an opponent, does a dummy movement, charges, and sweeps another boy’s stilts from under him. The boy collapses.
Julien, shouting triumphantly, raises one stilt in the air and hops about on just one stilt.
Julien: Notre dame! Montjoie! I am Bayard the bold and pure-hearted knight.
A big boy: So little Quentin, you are terrorizing everyone are you?
He charges him and elbows him violently. Julien, on his single stilt, loses his balance and falls badly.
He lies on the ground holding his bruised knee. His face is contorted and he is trying not to cry.
Julien: You swine, Laviron.
A boy challenges Laviron. Aged 14, with black frizzy hair, well-built, he was seen standing next to Bonnet at the mass.
The boy: Come and get me, coward, traitor, felon. I am Négus, the Black Knight, defender of the week and helpless.
A chorus of shouts is heard: “ Get him Négus”, Come on Laviron”.
A circle forms and the fight becomes a mock medieval joust.
Laviron: Get back, you swarthy knave. I am Richard the Lionheart, the pride of christianity. I shall expel you from Jerusalem, you infidel Saracen, you son of a dog.
Négus (putting on a phoney Arab accent): Allah is God and Mohammed is his prophet. Tremble, my friend. Lionheart, you foul-headed, chicken-faced, cowpat …
He turns around Laviron, then charges him, shouting.
Négus: Allah, Allah, Allah, Allah…
Négus’s patter entertains the gallery, who exchange encouraging noises between the two combattants. Julien has got up. Bonnet is behind him.
Bonnet: Go on, Négus!
Julien: Is Négus his real name?
Bonnet: What do you think?
Julien: (irritated): He looks pretty ugly. Do you know him?
Bonnet: His name is Lafarge, and he’s my best friend.
Négus, not as secure on his stilts, gets tripped and falls. He gets up again immediately, holding a stilt in front of him like a lance.
Father Michael blows his whistle to signal the end of interval. The pupils drift off sadly.
Father Michael: Babinot, hurry up.
9.
Julien is sitting on the large kitchen table. Mme Perrin, a very motherly, plumpish woman, always slightly tipsy, is washing his knee and putting some vinegar on the wound.
Julien lets out a squeal.
Mme Perrin (she has a Northern accent): There, that doesn’t hurt, now. Just stay calm, till I put a plaster on it. Your going to kill each other on these stilts. They are just games for hoodlums. One of these days somebody will end up with a broken leg…
Julien is not listening to her. He is watching Joseph, the kitchen waiter, engaged in a transaction and whispering to one of the older boys.
The boy hands over a box of sweets, snatches a banknote from his hands and runs off.
Joseph limps after him speedily.
Joseph: Hey, you don’t get all of it! We agreed forty-five.
Mme Perrin: Joseph, what are you up to now with your deals? Get back to your potatoes.
Joseph comes back into the room, and puts the box in his apron.
Joseph: The richer they are, the more they steal from you.
Joseph is 17, he is weedy-looking and he has one leg shorter than the other.