Quarter to Two Before Jesus Christ (Deux heures moins le quart avant Jésus-Christ)

This film was restored by PATHÉ in 2013.

In those days,

from Scotland to the Gobi,

from the Turkish hills to the Hispanic shores,

one man alone held sway over the civilized world,

Caesar!

Each year,

mighty Caesar vacationed in Rahat-Locum,

a Roman colony in North Africa.

Want some good grass? It's Phoenician!

Piss off!

What's all this? See what's wrong!

Outta the way!

Don't rupture yourself!

Move over!

Where's the fire?

If you're in a rush, get a camel!

Pain in the ass! I'm workin'!

No reason to piss everybody off!

Why bitch? Ya ain't got a fare.

Cuz I stop at noon for chow, asshole!

Say that again... Let's see if I get mad.

Gonna scare me, ya big bag?

If I come over

real close

and look ya in the eye, got the guts to repeat that?

- Big bag! - Me?

Yeah! Ya know what kind?

Me? A big bag?

What's up?

This dope's bloc kin' my way.

Chariot races are held in the Circus.

What a clown!

Shut up!

I want the street cleared by 3.

Again!

I'm sick of this.

Move along! Don't gawk!

Close up your stands!

Caesar's guest is due.

Clear the street for the procession.

Close your shops!

Same thing every day!

Him and his foreign guests ruin our sales!

Always showin' off for bigwigs from Africa.

And Gaul!

Enough!

Go tell Caesar your troubles.

He's getting some new lions.

Big ones!

And I hear they're hungry!

We'd better leave.

Didn't you hear me?

Clear the street!

We just told you.

I'm just gonna grab a bite to eat.

See to this guy.

Ok... ok...

The Consul will convert

the Julian Severus Theater

into a supermarket to increase government profits...

- Camparius! - Americanus!

Hot tea but hold the sugar!

I'm on a diet.

Tax will be the same for urban and provincial Romans

enabling them

to proudly share in the grandeur of Rome.

To hell with Rome!

Arab emirs at the Congress of Oat-Producing Nations

today announced a rise to 18 sesterces

per quintal of grain.

Many emirs are arriving for the festivities

organized by mighty Caesar in honor

of Cleopatra.

Kill the boob tube!

In Bethlehem...

It's all bullshit!

What'll become of us? The price of oats is up

and this supermarket will ruin business!

So have a glass of champagnus!

Ya don't care?

You bet I don't.

If the supermarket puts you out of business

and keeps deliveries from bloc kin' traffic, I won't mind!

Slob!

Hey, if you're so tough

use your merchants' union!

Sounds like a revolt's in the air!

Paulus is needlin' us. Seen TV?

Like everybody!

We gotta stop 'em!

Exactly!

Know what I say?

Caesar's the big bad wolf cuz the Romans are lambs!

Caesar's a lion cuz the Romans are deers!

- True! - Smart words!

He's smart.

Smart! But what else?

So what else, smarty?

I say we should let Caesar know

that we're fed up!

We should pick a strong-fist ed leader

who'll tell him so!

That we're sick and tired and fed up!

Right! Exactly!

And it's you!

- What? - The strong-fist ed leader!

President of the Merchants!

But...

We'll go see the Consul

and let Ben-Hur Marcel speak for us all!

And say it's the last straw!

Be our leader, Ben-Hur Marcel!

Ben-Hur Marcel's gonna talk to the Consul!

Ben-Hur Marcel's gonna speak for us all!

What is it?

- The masses! - Well?

They seem to be crabby, Consul.

I got your message!

Citizens!

Do you want lower taxes?

Work for all?

An end to inflation?

We can do nothing for now

but as soon as we can, we'll double our efforts!

Promises, promises! We want guarantees!

Guarantees!

They're being a drag.

This can't go on! Rome is a democracy!

We have rights!

Who are you?

Ben-Hur Marcel! Mechanic! Merchants' President!

You're their leader?

Too right, Dwight!

So speak up!

Things were fine till Caesar came.

Then the shit hit the fan!

Caesar bestrides the world!

We trot between the giant legs like midgets.

On what flesh does Caesar feed

to become so great?

Are Rome's walls to gird but one man?

So we're fed up with Caesar!

Me?

Why not the others?

You're alone, asshole!

Listen, Demetrius Cassius Titus Marcus Et Ceterus...

My designer miscut my pleats!

I can't wear this rag to Caesar's Palace!

I want him torn to shreds in the arena!

A bloody ragdoll!

Not in front of the guards...

Screw the guards!

Toss him in the arena with a trident in his torso!

A sword slicing up his entrails!

His bruised body in a net! His nose bashed!

Enough of this!

You've made me throw a plumber to the lions...

Crucify a barber.

- Indeed! - Now a dress designer?

So?

You're going to damage my popularity!

Why did a nice Gallic gal like me marry a Roman?

Now what?

Hail. Demetrius Cassius Marcus Oct...

Never mind!

- Well? - Actually, in front of...

What's with this make-believe macho?

I'm the Consul's wife! I hear all that goes on here.

Careful or you'll end up in the arena!

Enough of that!

- Go on. - It's your son...

His son? MY son! What's wrong?

He's dead! Hurt! Do something, you Roman!

Give it a rest, Laetitia!

- My son? - He was driving a chariot drunk.

- Jupiter be praised. - The schmuck!

Bring him to me.

- The Highway Guards have him. - So?

Highway Guards and Palace Guards don't...

Free him! And tell the Highway Guards

to shape up or I'll put a few in the arena!

Finally!

Go tend to your lace laurels!

He really stuffs himself!

3 or 4 every Sunday in the arena!

Especially Greeks!

He has a soft spot for Greeks.

It must be their diet.

Stuffed grape leaves, souvlaki...

Greeks are tasty, eh, Lucien?

It's odd... Turks eat like Greeks but

he's not hot for Turks.

He doesn't like Spartans much. Too dry!

He tears them up.

He toys with their sandals but hardly eats a thing.

Gauls are too pickled.

He won't touch Biafrans. That's understandable.

And Romans?

He loves them for dessert.