The Pirates of the Bois du Bologne (Les corsaires du Bois de Boulogne)

THE PIRATES OF THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE

It started because of Hector.

He claimed that with a certain media hype,

you could make anyone swallow anything.

The customer pays at the entrance and not at the exit.

I did not want to believe him.

For Hector, talent and fame had nothing to do with each other.

A good little bluff.

Christian from Valais cuts himself into an ornament, small

piece, blood, blood, blood, sensational!

A good little bluff was the surest way to achieve notoriety.

I still did not want to believe it.

The important thing was to make a name for oneself.

And to make a name, he kept repeating that in an era

where a star is launched like a pharmaceutical product,

nothing was worth more than well-orchestrated publicity.

Sound engineer, Julien Coutelier.

Assisted by Jean Barreille and Jacques Bissière.

Western Electric recording, Paris Studio Cinéma.

The little sparrows of Paris.

Always sing cheep-cheep-cheep.

Ask at people's doors for something to get by, to have a crumb of bread.

- Who is the bread singer? - Oh, shut up, this isn't the time!

Do you know what such an idea could bring us?

15 days in prison, like every time you have an idea.

Fame and fortune, little fool!

Who is the bread singer.

Always sing cheep-cheep-cheep.

You sing cheep-cheep-cheep too.

- Doctor Bombard. - Ah, he's exhausted, sir.

What's wrong with him?

Then give me the shipment of the fool Titi.

The fool Titi?

- Aren't we singing anymore? - We're crossing the Atlantic in a tiny boat.

- Why aren't we singing anymore? - It's because...

Because what?

It's because every time you open your mouth, we collapse.

- It's not my fault if I have no talent? - It's not a question of talent.

- Of what then? - Of publicity.

No one asks you to have talent. They ask you to get noticed.

There are stars who would not be great stars

if they had not first thrown themselves onto the stage.

They never understand anything.

When I told you they understood nothing,

it was six years ago that you should have done that.

Now it's worn out.

Whereas the navigator stunt...

Trust me, it'll make noise.

It's to earn today's meal Fries and not-too-well-done steak.

It's to earn today's meal Fries and not-too-well-done steak.

Cooked, cooked, cooked.

- Cooked, cooked, cooked. - Thank you very much, sir.

That will bring us luck.

Where are we going?

Build a raft.

Perfect. We'll start with that one.

- Isn't that crazy enough? - Yes.

- Then why are you doing it? - I'm not telling you yes, I'm telling you yes.

But you're the one who has to go to jail.

That's exactly what I'm looking for.

- Then it's crazy. - What?

It's crazy, it's crazy. It's completely crazy. He's crazy.

- Sold 100% points. - Crazy.

Crazy.

Shoot!

No, I think you're crazy.

I'm an accordion player. I'm not a lumberjack. Much less a navigator.

It's not about sailing, but about getting noticed.

That's not worth much to the public.

Break.

Your papers.

- Climb, he's watching us. - That's crazy, isn't it?

Climb. I'm telling you, it's now or never.

I'm coming back down.

Climb higher, idiot. I'll send you the rope.

Come on, catch it.

- What do I do? - You tie it.

And afterwards, do I come down or hang myself?

You shout almost.

Always almost.

We did it.

So, is the job working, yes?

Come on, come on, don't slack off.

And hop.

Would you mind letting him marinate a little farther away?

Why?

It might bother the customers during the boarding.

Thank you very much, thank you.

If the whole Bois de Boulogne has to be shaved to get his picture in the newspaper.

I'm warning you this is the last one.

Tell me, is that the daughter of the big windbags?

- Well, who... - Who, as you say, yes, sir.

Think behind.

You said, if you dare.

Push the logs toward her, that'll give you some composure.

Leave her for a week, I'll be right back.

You're a log plunderer.

Absolutely, commissioner. Right in the Bois de Boulogne.

Faced with such a failure of the public authorities, one is ashamed to be French.

A country that lets itself be sheared is a doomed country.

If you're counting on the Americans to come reforest us,

well, it'll cost a fortune.

Yes. Yes, Commissioner, yes.

Three: A very elegant young lady and two men.

Finally, a man in his forties, but still very young.

Of average height, admirably well-proportioned.

And an insignificant little fellow of about 25 years old.

But I'm only doing my duty, Commissioner.

Taxi!

- Thank you! - You're welcome.

After you, miss.

Excuse this little thug.

Everything is fine. Everything is very, very fine.

I spent the whole day roaming the roads, but nobody spotted me.

Well then, do it again!

- Officer! - Come on, move along! No trouble!

- You're crazy! - My glory begins!

- Yes, well, drive! - Let me go!

Help! Help!

What do we do, chief?

We have no shade!

Let me go!

Announce my death!

Take the middle seat, it's less bumpy there.

Commit judicial errors, that's your profession, but at least remain polite.

Miss.

From then on, my decision was made.

I will use trees as bait.

I will build a raft.

I am going to cut down trees.

- Hey, sir? - Well...

As for him, I hired him as a cabin boy despite his advanced age.

These ladies and gentlemen will kindly take the trouble.

After you, Captain.

- So, it's the county that? - Yes, with a little good bass.

Yet nothing destined me for the sea.

Nothing?

A certain weariness of high society life and easy pleasures.

A sort of... need for...

Please. A need for solitude.

For solitude.

That happens to me sometimes too.

To find oneself alone between sky and sea.

Face to face with oneself.

And fight. Fight anonymously against the unleashed elements.

Far from any advertising approach.

Far from the material concerns of cities.

But my only noble concern was to serve science.

By coming to the aid of drowning humanity.

- You are an extraordinary man. - Yes.

Excuse me, but when I'm out at sea like this, I forget everything.

- Will you have something? - Gladly.

Waiter.

Oh, pardon, Commissioner.

It's the gang of the condemned, Commissioner.

Yes. Let me introduce myself.

Hector Colomb.

- Like Christopher? - Like Christopher, miss.

Christopher Columbus. Perhaps you've heard of him, Commissioner.

- No? - Caroline Grossac, Commissioner.

Caroline is a lovely name.

My name is Cyprien.

Being a castaway by profession, yes. That's how we are in my family.

Castaways from father to son for generations.

Oh, bravo, bravo, my little girl. At last, something new. I hope you've killed someone.

She's so terribly bored, Commissioner.

Don't tell me you've stolen. I wouldn't believe it. Everything belongs to us.

Brigadier, I'm exhausted. That bridge game was so boring.

When Léon told me you were in prison, you can imagine my surprise. Thank you, Brigadier.

You play bridge, Commissioner. I'll explain it to you, Mother.

I met these gentlemen in the Bois de Boulogne.

Your old man, that's wonderful. His father will be furious.

He can't stand anyone touching his daughter.

Listen to me, Mother, I beg you.

- These gentlemen are leaving on a raft. - My dear, you're an adult.

If you want to go rafting, I won't stop you. But you must tell your father.

None of Mr. Grossac's horses was supposed to win that day.

Finding him was no easy task.

Starting from nothing, this courageous man had, by saving penny by penny, acquired

one of those immense fortunes that always reward,

as everyone knows, a life of hard work and honesty.

Departure from Gradite.

Mr. Grossac on the telephone.

Mr. Grossac, there's a telephone call for you.

Hello, I'm listening.

- Oh, come on, darling. - I can't hear anything anymore.

Well, Brigadier. Please, darling, try to remember.

Do we have a villa in Saint-Tropez?

Yes or no.

You don't know, I thought as much.

You, in this profession, Commissioner, please make some inquiries.

We have so many that we no longer know. Isn't that right, Marcel?

- Come with me. - Yes, but...

Come.

- Dad will pay the bill. - What bill?

Would you refuse to drink Boulogne with your daughter?

I'll explain it to you, Mr. Grossac.

What?

Oh, he's innocent, Commissioner, I swear it.

I know him, he's an honest man.