No Pockets in a Shroud (Un linceul n'a pas de poches)

A shroud has no pockets.

Based on the famous novel by Horace McCoy.

So you're going to be a great goalkeeper?

Like Spelmann from Sporting.

- He has a few fast cars, did you know? - With that money he is not on a scooter.

The police would have noticed.

He could not stand up. The prefect's son!

It's not such a big problem.

Not such a big problem?

If a worker ran over the prefect's son,

you would go to the funeral!

Prefect, my condolences.

Come on, Dolannes. Do not get carried away.

You know how the boss is. Do not shock the readers.

French readers are the most conservative in the world.

I am here to preserve his ideas, not to change them.

- I am a museum curator. - So shut your mouth.

Only the bosses can speak and I am an employee like you.

I have no more rights than you, only more responsibilities.

The first of these is censoring your writers.

The boss took a financial risk to make a newspaper to his liking, not yours.

- He inherited an industrial empire. - His ancestors were rich, ours were not.

You would not blame your parents for being poor.

My father is still a small tax official.

He barely makes ends meet. It is not his, yours or my fault.

This is a cemetery!

Bury the prefect's son's scandal, the sports scandal...

Careful now. Blesh is the president. He is a big player.

Your best advertiser.

No ads means no newspaper. And where would we be without paper?

State television, in the hands of the ruling party.

Advertising accounts for 46% of our income.

Hello? I am not here.

And advertising is also news.

A new brand of refrigerator. That is news.

People like cold beer. You would never refuse a cold one.

- News is not business. - What is it then? A mission?

Maybe the truth?

People buy newspapers. The truth is it is just another product.

- And lies? - That is the truth: Everything is for sale.

- Even athletes? - All talent has a price.

Ski equipment, toilet paper and drinks also need advertising.

- That is the system. - That is nice.

Money is the only true love of people. You cannot change them.

Life is short. People want to make the most of it.

You must let a few grow.

Take that back now, or I will kick you out!

That is not necessary. I resign.

That is just as well.

I do not need Don Quixotes here!

Jo, where can I find the police reporter?

I do not know everyone here.

Evil little idiot!

I can also play football.

Are you crazy? It will be bare. You take everything.

These are my personal archives, right?

If my wife and children were not here, I would have done it long ago.

Do you have to be single to be a journalist?

Almost. Our work is like the priesthood.

Truth demands everything, even a man's life.

I am not fit to be a martyr.

I wonder if I did the right thing.

Do not regret it. You have kept your dignity.

What is left of it.

You are impeccable. I am so jealous of you, Mick.

What about that coffee then? I will make that farewell coffee.

Okay.

Make it strong and good. The sugar is with the paperclips.

Mira is here!

Mira Barnowski!

Hello.

Have you found a job for me?

I got a huge shock from our coffee machine.

What a day! No coffee, a death, a resignation.

It does not look good.

Your friend looks excited!

He cannot write what he wants, so he leaves.

I am not surprised. I left Russia two years ago.

Do you think Russian journalists can just walk away like that?

She is from Kiev. She got her passport in Israel.

I went via Vienna and Tel Aviv.

But I wanted to see France.

The land of freedom.

You need money to speak here but there you cannot speak.

Even if you have money.

You do not seem eager to leave. Do you already miss the paper?

People complain about the smell, but they like it.

The boss can turn it into lies or truth.

If I were the boss, I would do nothing.

What would you really do, Fredo?

I would need a lot of money.

Yes, because it is a daily newspaper.

But what if it were a small weekly with a circulation of 10,000?

- My own weekly? - Yes, yours.

That gave me an idea. Thanks, Fredo.

Do you want to be the boss? Oh, come on!

Do you want to run your own newspaper?

Domestic and foreign affairs.

Society news, sports news, legal news.

Food reviews.

The universal man.

The Universal. That's not bad.

For a weekly sales of 10000?

The World one?

No, that's just a global title.

- Cosmopolitan. - In the provinces?

Agricultural fairs? Pigs?

Not the pigs you're thinking of.

- Give me your hand. - A proposal?

Your left hand.

- She likes those rules. - No! I don't like that.

- Are you afraid? - Do I look like I'm afraid?

Where did you find this gypsy? Why did you bring her in?

I came alone, you see?

It's fate.

Save it, with your fate.

Do it your way. But you're wrong.

I don't get involved in that kind of things.

Every morning I drink a cup of coffee.

How many sugars?

Nothing this morning. That's why I ended up at the newspaper.

- Unfortunately. - I came to your office.

You already regretted your resignation.

She's sharp.

You didn't want to step back where I was present.

That's how you came up with the idea for your newspaper.

Isn't that fate?

You always think you're the best. That will be your downfall.

You only need to buy me some cemetery space.

Listen to me, big mouth.

Every Monday morning, a businessman flies from London.

He arrives at the airport, buys the newspaper, boards his flight...

The man is a robot.

But for once he buys his newspaper back home.

He wants to shake things up a bit.

He talks a bit with the seller, gets late and his flight leaves.

And it explodes. There was a bomb in the bathroom.

So our hands are tied, from birth to death.

That's fine if you lay it down, but I don't.

Jo, fate wants you to get the cheque.

I need some money for my newspaper.

Can I help you find some?

- Do you work on the street? - Fool.

You don't know how I got my passport.

Tell him, Jo.

Well...

She had to take care,

for some services to people at the passport office.

So

if I can help you benefit from my experience,

to pay for your truth work...

- I'm not a pimp. - Good luck with Cosmopolitan!

- His Cosmopolitan will succeed. - He got no money.

LAURENCE PRINTING

That's not what I want to do.

I don't promote religious or political theories.

I'm not a Catholic, a Marxist or an anarchist.

My intellect is free. It is completely free.

That pink is a bit flashy.

It's a butcher shop, not a naked woman.

Give her a pastel-colored backside.

I'm interested in information, events, facts, truth.

- Let's see. - It's that military thing.

Hello! What are you doing here? How are you?

Good. And you?

My stomach could be better. The food in his canteen smells.

- Was the blood sausage not good? - Rot.

I had a few myself.

Mr Culli knows food. He'd have ortolan.

Look, that font is small.

That magazine is for retired soldiers.

They wear glasses at their age too, like civilians.

- We use a poster-sized font. - Like the one from the party.

Your work stinks, just as bad as

the food you ate in my canteen.

Do it again.

Is that unreadable?

He's pushing you.

He always looks for a way to kick me out.

Because you're the union representative.

Just wait until the left is in power.

So the Commies can censor the press? Thanks a lot.

- I'm a free journalist. - You're a bourgeois.

You said it.

You handle the paper and print it, and I...

Sorry?

I'll handle ads, reports and editing.

- That's my job. - Right.

You print it.

I pay for it? Oh, that changes everything.

- It will make a fortune. - I hope so.

- So you don't want to? - Yes, but you pay for printing?

You're not interested.

I am. Great project, but too risky to invest in.

We will attract good people.

Good people! Sorry, I'm not interested.

- What if I pay? - Then of course.

Deal.

- Do you have the money? - I'm getting it.

- Where? - From the snobs.