The Chorus Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the The Chorus script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the movie known in France as Les Choristes.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of The Chorus. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

The Chorus Script






Pierre, there's

an urgent call from France.



After the concert.



It's about your mother.






Do you remember me?



Fond de I'étang.



"My father is coming for me

on Saturday."






Of course.






- How long has it been?

- About    years.



Fond de I'étang.



You're the little guy in the front row.



And there you are.



Do you remember the prefect's name?



Clément Mathieu.



Clément Mathieu.



I wonder what happened to him.



Open it.



"Fond de I'étang.






Mathieu kept a journal

while he worked at Fond de I'étang.



That's his story. Ours too.



He wanted you to have it.



I'd have preferred to deliver it

under different circumstances, but...



"January        .



After failing for so long

in so many fields,



I was sure the worst was still to come."



It was a boarding school where

troubled children were rehabilitated.



That's what the advertisement said.



Fond de I'étang.



Even the name seemed

to fit me like a glove.






You're all alone?



What are you doing there?



Waiting for Saturday.






My father is coming for me.



But it's not Saturday.









Hello. I'm Clément Mathieu,

the new prefect.



Have you done this type of work before?



I taught some classes in private school.



- What did you teach?

- Music.



You'll like Rachin, our headmaster.

He used to play the trumpet.



- Hello, Pépinot.

- Hello.



His daughters. He lives right there.



- You haven't met Mr. Rachin?

- Not yet, no.



- Mrs. Boissemand recommended me.

- Really?



That was old Maxence.



He told me on the spot

that he was the school watchman,



as well as its nurse,

storekeeper and glazier.



- What is he doing?

- Serving detention for Mr. Rachin.



Fifteen days of community work.

In other words, school drudge.



What kind of children are they, exactly?



- No one told you?

- No.



My infirmary. I'll show you

my vegetable garden later.



I'd like that.



- Damn it! What have they done now?

- I'll help you.



Are you Clément Mathieu?



The headmaster...



Rachin, the school's headmaster.



Headmaster, I'm sorry...



- Yes, you're late.

- I had the wrong bus schedule.



Punctuality is essential here.



Very well.






Very well, Headmaster.



Come with me.



First you should study

the school regulations,



then you can supervise

the  :   study period before you...



What are you doing? Answer me.



- Take this.

- It's my eye.



Another trap. You can appreciate

our boarders' finer instincts.



Get him over there.



I'm blinded.



Don't make a fuss. Show me.



It's not pretty.



Ring the bell. School assembly.



- We should call a doctor.

- Do you know how much they charge?



What did I say? Ring the assembly.



The bell?



Next to the door,

right in front of you.



All right.









- Are they always like that?

- Keep ringing the bell.



Two abreast.



Everybody in the schoolyard.




Hurry up.



Move faster. Be silent.



- Chrome Dome.

- Be silent.



- Chrome Dome.

- Be silent.



Be silent.



- I didn't say anything.

- Be silent.



I called this assembly



because of a despicable attempt

against old Maxence.



Under our action-reaction rule,

the culprit will be severely punished.



I want the culprit's name

within the next three seconds,



or it's six hours of lock-up

for each one of you.



Effective until he's betrayed

or gives himself up.



Is that clear?












No volunteers?



Of course. Come closer.



- Mathieu.

- Me?



Come closer.



The school register, Mr. Chabert.



Thank you.



Mr. Mathieu, your new prefect,

has been spared your acquaintance.



- Chrome Dome.

- Be silent.



So he can choose

who goes first without bias.



Be silent.



Pick a name.



At random?



- A word of advice...

- Don't interfere. Go on.






Too bad. Chabert, get Boniface.



- Sir, I didn't do anything.

- Shut up.



- It's lousy, I didn't do anything.

- Watch your language.






- I won't go.

- I'll kick your backside for you.



Be silent.




until I've found the culprit,



there will be no recess

and no visitors.



I advise you to give him up quickly.



It's an encouragement to turn informer.



You're full of noble illusions

like any new staff member.



Come see me in eight days.



You'll be replacing Mr. Régent.

He'll explain your duties.



Clean sheets.



Thank you.



Why are you leaving?



Ten stitches.



Cut with scissors.



Just for confiscating

Mouton's cigarettes.



- Mouton?

- The boy's name is Mouton.



And Mouton's still here?



By the way, Le Querrec

booby-trapped Maxence's door.



I heard him talking about it

in the corridor.



- And you didn't say anything?

- I didn't want to miss the bus.



Old Maxence punished him

for breaking some glass panes.



Simple revenge. That's just his style.



Le Querrec.



Don't forget that name: Le Querrec.



- Morhange too.

- Yes.



Morhange doesn't talk much,

but keep an eye on him.



Looks like an angel,

acts like the devil.






That's all they understand.



They're all yours.



- Good luck.

- Thank you.



Our benefactresses.



The timetable's over there.



Classes were shared

between the headmaster,



who taught French and History,



and Mr. Langlois,

who taught every other subject.



Mr. Langlois, here's the new prefect.



Clément Mathieu.



- A prefect at your age?

- Yes, but I used to teach.



Very well then.



And he's the funny one.



Take your study period. You're late.

No need to show you the way.



Watch out. Chrome Dome's coming.






No smoking during class.



The rules apply to everyone.

Even you, sir.



Give it back.



Be quiet.



Give it back.



Be silent.



Give it back.



An auspicious beginning.

Congratulations, Mathieu.






Of course.



You again.



What did he do?



Nothing, Headmaster.



What do you mean, "nothing?"

You were about to punish him.



I asked him to go to the blackboard



and I was just telling them

to be silent.



Not a minute too soon.



Don't make me come back.



Stand in the corner.



Very well.



Now that you've come to know me,

we need to set things straight.



Right now,

one of your classmates is in lock-up.



For no good reason.



I may not look like much

but I'm no fool.



I know who did it.



He has    seconds to give himself up.



I'm waiting.



You'll regret it. Five seconds left.



Too late.



Le Querrec.



Who is Le Querrec?



I am, sir.



What a surprise.



- You hurt Mr. Maxence.

- No, sir. I didn't do it.



- That wasn't a question.

- I didn't do anything.



Between the two of us, I wonder

who the headmaster will believe.



I need someone dependable

to keep an eye on things while I'm gone.



According to my sixth sense,

that dependable student must be...



...Mr. Morhange.



Come on, come on.

Who is Mr. Morhange?



That's me, sir.



So you're the angel.



Go down. You'll supervise

the class while I'm gone.



Go on.



Nice. You could pull out

your shirt a bit more.



I'm told the rebellious have

strong leadership skills. Prove it.



Come to the headmaster's office.



- Have mercy, sir.

- Mercy?



What about the boy who's taken

your place? And old Maxence?



I didn't want to hurt him.

It was just a joke.



A joke?



...a little stint in lock-up.

I've had enough of you.



But first, I'm going to give you

the flogging of your life.



- Who is it?

- Leclerc.



He's tried to run away three times.

He's taking him to lock-up.



- So you won't be alone.

- Don't.



Maybe we can come to an agreement.



You hurt Mr. Maxence. Badly.



I won't take you to the headmaster

but I have to punish you.



Instead of fooling around during recess,

you'll work in the infirmary.



You'll be old Maxence's nurse.



You'll look after him until he's cured.



All right?



Not bad.



What do you think?



But I can do better. Give me the chalk.

Stand in profile.






Let's see a smile for a change.



You can look now.



I almost forgot...

Some color would be nice.



Much better. Get back to your seat.



Very well.



I want to get to know you,

so you're going to write your name,



your age and your dream job

on a piece of paper.



I was astonished when

they all did as they were told.



All except one.



You're not writing?



How long have you been here?



A long time?



I don't know.



Write, little fellow.



An exhausting first day.



I forgot why I came here

in the first place.



Rachin scares me, the building

scares me, even the children scare me.



I keep expecting them

to slip into my recess and murder me.



My blanket.



- Got a cigarette?

- Shut up.



Go to bed.



I read the assignments again.



They all had fabulous dreams.



Two firemen, three cowboys,

one tiger tamer, one fighter pilot,



two spies, a general under Napoleon,

one balloonist, three legionaries...



Not one school prefect.



It was nice of you

to volunteer to be my nurse.



Doctor, the new prefect asked

for a volunteer to take care of me.



And he raised his hand right away.



Proof that

we should believe in miracles.



Come in.



Mr. Mathieu, the new prefect.






It's pretty bad, Maxence.



If they've started attacking you,

they're beyond help.



You're so patient with them.



I've got a thick skull.

You shouldn't be feeling sorry for me.



I feel sorry for those poor kids.

Don't forget one of them is dead.






His name was Mouton.

He jumped off the roof.



Good thing he was an orphan.



Look at him. Everyone says

he's a lost cause. It's not true.



He's a good boy.

You just have to know him.



Old Maxence is a nice guy.



I'm talking to you, Le Querrec.

Don't you think he's nice?









- I didn't hear you.

- Leave him alone. He's shy.



Like me.



One, two, three, four...









- I'd like a word, Headmaster.

- Leaving us so soon?



- No, I'd like to try something.

- You don't say.



About the accident.



- That was no accident.

- Quite.



I need three things from you.



- Is that all?

- One, cancel the group punishment,



two, let me deal with the culprit,

and three, don't ask me for his name.



You'd have to know it first.






Your arrogance astounds me.

Do you really think you'll find him?



Very well. If you succeed,

I'll cancel the group punishment.



But you'll never get the culprit

or I'm the biggest fool in nature.



I know who did it, Headmaster.






Who is it?



You said I wouldn't have to tell you.



Fine. Very well then.



But I don't like your manners.



You'd better make sure

your students behave.



- I've already got them under control.

- That's what you think.



One, two, three, four... Go on.






- There's no pictures of naked women.

- I never said there were naked women.



What does yours say?



"Ave Maria for soprano

by Clément Mathieu."



I've got, "String quartet...


            Clément Mathieu."

- Looks like music.



- What do you know about it?

- Maybe it's Morse.



- Or some secret code.

- Maybe he's no prefect.



Maybe he's an undercover spy.



Chrome Dome.



Give it back to me.



- What is it, sir?

- None of your business.



Is there a problem, Mathieu?



No problem.



It's just music.



What for?



A chorus.



In the water closets?



Clear out, chorus.



- Not here, Mathieu.

- What?



- Don't play the idiot.

- You're not suggesting...?



I won't say anything this time.



- You really see evil everywhere.

- In here? Yes.



Baldy, you are through



The rules won't be made by you



Baldy, you are through



The rules won't be made by you



The rules won't be made by you



Chickening out, guys?



- You're Corbin.

- Yes, sir, but I didn't do anything.



- You were singing.

- No, sir. I swear.



You were singing. Badly.

And you couldn't even tell.



Go on. Sing.



I'm listening.



Would you prefer to sing

for the headmaster? Go on.



Chrome Dome

Prepare to meet your doom



Chrome Dome

Prepare to meet your doom



You're not the boss of us



You're not the boss of us



No one ever told you

you couldn't sing?



Sir? Is that really music

in your satchel?



Mind your own business.



By the way, if I ever catch

one of you messing with my things...



...he'll be very sorry.



Now be quiet.

Time to go to bed. Hurry up.



It's over.



Go to sleep.



I couldn't get their ditty

out of my head.



They're not very good at it,

but they are singing.



I even spotted a few good voices.



Are those kids really a lost cause?



And I had sworn never

to touch my music again.



Never say never.



Nothing is ever truly lost.



January   rd.



One week after his accident, old Maxence

suddenly took a turn for the worse.



The doctor sent him to the hospital.



Is he going to die?



No, we'll save him.



The very same day,

Pépinot got into trouble.



Mr. Pépinot, you're a dunce.



Final question. The last one.

How did Marshal Ney die?



I'm waiting.









One hundred lines by tomorrow:

"Marshal Ney was shot."



Get out.



Boniface. Come here, boy.



Here, as a reward for your essay.



Give it to Mrs. Marie

and you'll get a cookie.



You knew Ney had been shot, eh?



Of course, sir. Just like Napoleon.



Get out.



Hold on, Mr. Morhange.



I saw you taking notes during class.



This is a rare occurrence indeed.

Bring me your notebook.






Read it.

Admire the spelling.



"Mr. Rachin eats shit by the bushel."



He wrote "Mr.?"






Action-reaction, Mr. Mathieu.






Come on.



- Gentlemen, enjoy your meal.

- Thank you.



Are you hungry, Pépinot?



Now you can eat.






He's an orphan.



His parents died

during the Occupation.



- How did they die?

- I don't know.



The kid thinks his father

will come for him on a Saturday.



No one ever comes on Saturday.



So we tell him he'll come

next Saturday, and so on.



It'd be easier to tell him the truth.



We must have told him     times.

He won't listen.



Now we let him wait by the gate.

Let him enjoy himself.



Be quiet!



Did you see that? Action-reaction.












There's a visitor for young Morhange.



Morhange is in lock-up.



No visitors for the punished.

You know the rules.



Go tell his visitor then.



Good day, madame.



Good day.



I'm the new prefect.



I'm Pierre Morhange's mother.



Clément Mathieu.



I know this isn't the right day,

but it's the only time I could...



- No, that's not the problem.

- Has he been punished again?



No, nothing like that...



...but he's not here.



What do you mean?



They took him to the dentist.

He had a toothache.



A toothache?



Yes, but nothing serious.

He'll be back tonight.



I can't wait.

I'm going back to work at  .



Can I leave something for him?



Of course.



Her name is Violette.

Violette Morhange.



A single mother at her wits' end

about her son,



a thieving introvert expelled from

school because he kept running away.



When Pierre was sent to Fond de

I'étang against his mother's wishes,



she told the judge, "At least

he'll get a hot meal twice a day."



January   th. The experience begins.



In Brittany, the hats are...



In Brittany, the hats are round



That's why I'm Brittany bound



Soprano. Go left.






He is born, the Holy Child

Let us greet His coming



Almost in tune.

Alto, go left.






Three miles on foot

What does it use?



Three miles on foot

eats up your shoes



Do it again.



Four miles on foot

What does it use?



Four miles on foot

eats up your shoes



I was right. Bass, go right.






I've got tobacco in my pouch



I'll give it away, not today



Smoking is strictly forbidden.

Alto, left.






Love is a gypsy child



That obeys no one's laws



Soprano, of course. Left.



Very well. Pépinot.



I don't know any songs.



That's fine. I'll teach you some.



In the meantime,

you can be Assistant Chorus Master.



Over there.






Marshal Pétain, here we are



- Who taught you that?

- My grandfather.



A little old-fashioned. Left.






Citizens to arms

Display your charms



Enough. Right.



My camp counselor's a jerk



He doesn't do any work



Go left.



Cuckoo, booboo

Cuckoo, booboo



Good. Alto.



Strong beat.



Strong beat.



Show me, Corbin.



Sorry, there's no such note.

Come here.



Mr. Pépinot, hand me the score.



Thank you. Open your hands.



Hold them like this.



Good. You can be our lectern.



Baton, Mr. Pépinot.



Thank you.



Get ready. On three...






That's it.



One, two, three, four.



Le Querrec's on bread and water...



Every night, I make them practice

a simple tune of my own.



Carpentier has lost his way



Fond de I'Etang is where

we're stuck, just our luck



Fond de I'Etang is where we'll be

for all eternity



Not bad.



It wasn't Mozart,

but I had their attention now.



From now on, I would need

the support of my superiors.






A chorus?






My poor man, you've completely lost it.



A chorus. You won't get a single note

from them or I'm the biggest fool...



Please, Headmaster,

don't finish your sentence.



Why not?



They're singing already.






Just a few notes.



Why ask my permission

if you're already doing it?



I don't like your manners.



- Headmaster...

- You're annoying me.



I have other things on my mind.



Very well. I enjoy a good laugh.



Make them sing.



But if everything goes sour,

you'll lose your job.



Thank you for your support, Headmaster.



February  th.



As we begin rehearsals,

Rachin starts on Morhange.



As soon as he's out of lock-up,

he lowers the axe:



one month of community work.



From the beginning. Get ready.



Hey, skivvy. Don't forget my bed.



February   th.



We're visited by Dr. Dervaux,

a psychiatrist.



He brought us a gift.



We've decided to take this boy

out of St. Féréol Reformatory



to study his capacity to adapt

to a... more liberal environment.



Unlike most of his classmates,



Pascal Mondain has begun

to read and write.



At any rate, he can speak

more or less normally.



We assessed his potential

with the Binet-Simon Test.



The Binet-Simon.



We also administered

the Rorschach and Drüss Fables.



- Excellent.

- As you know, this test...



That test sorted children

into seven different categories:



normal, adequate,



borderline, mildly,

moderately or severely retarded.



And finally, imbeciles.



Mondain scored

within the borderline zone.



He isn't actually mad,

but I should warn you...



According to his profile,

he's a gregarious pervert.






And what does that mean?






- Doctor?

- A tendency to be cruel, parasitic,



destructive and above all...

Above all, a mythomaniac.



- There you go.

- The place is full of them.



Here the children face

non-specialized methods of discipline.



Mondain's integration will provide

a good case study.



Happy to oblige.



We'll try to meet

your scientific requirements.



Gentleman, this fellow is in your hands.



- Will you stay for lunch?

- Gladly.



Take good care of him.






You're not allowed to smoke.



For the experience to succeed,

I had to get the upper hand.



You really look like an idiot.



You'd better behave

or you'll get what's coming to you.



All right.



What's coming?



You probably know a song, right?



Yeah, but...






You won't like it.



Why don't you try me? Come here.



Come on.



I'm listening.



One summer day

I took out my knob



To give myself a nice hand job



- All right.

- Up yours I go



All right.



Told you so.



Not bad.



You'll need to practice,

but you have a good baritone.






Baritone. It's not an insult.



When you sing,

your voice is low-pitched.



Go to the back with the basses.



- Fuck.

- And forget about the fucking.



Next one to laugh gets punched out.



Whenever you're ready, Mondain.



He's allowed back in class.



And here's Pépinot.

You forgot him by the gate.



What's wrong, Pépinot?

It's not Saturday.



By the way,



when you write to your family...



I don't have any.



Well, for those who do,



remind them that visits are on the

first and third Thursday of the month.



Morhange, you're not paying attention.



- What did I just say?

- I don't know.



I said, you could write your mother

telling her that she can see you



on the first or third Thursday

of the month. Or even both days.



Understood? But the punished

can't have visitors, so be careful.



I don't want to see the old goats.



Maybe Morhange

wants to see his mother.



Maybe he's not the only one.



See, Morhange?

We have a real chorus.



- I don't care.

- Why don't you care?



Let's hear your voice.

Sing for me. Do...



Go ahead.



You want to go back?

Your range, quickly.



Coarseness doesn't suit you, kid.



We can't all be like Mondain.



All right.

From the top.



- Where are you going?

- I need to pee.



Mondain, wait.



- Corbin.

- Can I go pee too, sir?



Fine, everyone out.



And be quiet. Quiet.



You have a nice voice, beautiful.



Want a drag?



They left you all alone?



I'll protect you.



Wait for me.



We're the same.



My parents are a couple of buggers.



Your mother's the same.



She got rid of you to have some fun.



No, she's working.



- So the others are telling the truth?

- What?



They say she's a whore.



I'll rearrange your face.



Get out.



You're a dead man.






That day, Morhange

missed the  :   roll call.



No one ever knew where he went,

but he'd come back.



That was the important part.



What are you doing there?



I can't go up.



What do you mean,

you can't go up?



Why not?



I have no money.



You need money to sleep?

That doesn't make sense.



It's Mondain.



He won't let me come up

unless I give him money.



We have to be careful.



At my last place,

the prefect caught me.



- So I had to take care of him.

- How?



With a bayonet. He bled like a pig.



- You killed him?

- Kind of, yeah.



It's no different here.

Chrome Dome had better watch out.



- Mathieu isn't so bad.

- Yeah, right.



They sing you a lullaby and when

you're asleep, they start pawing you.



We've got to kill their kind.



Good evening, gentlemen.



- Enjoy your meal.

- Sir, I swear I didn't do anything.



You keep good company, Corbin.



Get out.



Forget about the feast.



I won't tell on you. A gift.



But I'm warning you:

don't speak to Pépinot again.



Don't go near him.

Don't even look at him.



Do you understand?



One look in his direction, and

your life will turn into a nightmare.



See on your way



Forgotten kids who've strayed



Give them a helping hand



Lead them to new horizons

Help them understand



Feel, in the depths of despair



A surging wave of hope



The fervor of life



The glorious path



What are you doing, Morhange?



Nothing, sir.



So I heard voices?

I must be tired.



Section   of the interior rules:



Students will not enter

a classroom without supervision.



Mr. Rachin would make you do

    lines by tomorrow morning.



And who knows

what he'd tell your mother.



I don't give a damn about my mother.



- Why? Tell me.

- I'll tell you nothing.



Wait. I'm not through.

That's a little too easy.



You pay for everything here.

Ask Pépinot.



Morhange, strangely enough,

the things you do don't resemble you.



Running away, fighting,

pretending to be a hoodlum.



Your classmates may laugh,

but I won't. I'm not playing along.



Starting tomorrow, you will attend

every chorus practice



and take a music lesson every day.

Go to bed now.



Go on.



March  rd.



He can't possibly know, but I do.

His voice is a miracle.



The rare promise of an exceptional gift.



Please go out quietly.



I said quietly.



Gradually, as my chorus takes shape,



I bring my new singer

out of his shell.



Childish delights



Too soon forgotten and erased



A golden light that burns forever



At the end of the path



Feel, in the depths of despair



A surging wave of hope



The fervor of life



The glorious path



Get your arithmetic notebooks.



You're the one making them sing?



Yes, sir.



- Is that a criticism?

- Of course not.



I adore music.

Occasionally I even sing a little.






Why are we waiting?

Let's get happy



Why are we waiting?

Let's have a ball



- Have a nice day.

- You too, dear colleague.



Arithmetic. Page   .



Good day.



Good day, madame.



- Pierre has been told. He's coming.

- Is something wrong?



Everything's fine.



- What about his teeth?

- Not a problem anymore.



Did you tell him I came for a visit?






Why not?



I thought I'd better not.

Pierre is very sensitive...



...and gifted.



At acting like an idiot, yes.



Not exclusively. By the way,

I need to talk to you.



Singing? No one taught him.



It's a gift.

We have to do something.






I'll leave you two alone.

Visit him whenever you like.



I told her you went

to the dentist last time.



Don't give me away.



- So you're a good singer?

- Yeah.



That man seems

to think you're doing well.



Is he nice to you?



He's all right.



I brought you some clean clothes



and I made your chocolate cake.



Are you happy?



April. Those children inspire me.



I knew that one day,

someone would play my music.



My name is Clément Mathieu.



I'm a musician and each night,

I compose for them.



Like a caress on the ocean



Lightly lands the gull



On the rocks of a sunken isle



Ephemeral winter breeze



At last your cold breath fades away



Far into the mountains high



Face the wind

and spread your wings



In the gray eastern dawn



Find a path to the rainbow



And spring will reveal

itself to you






On the ocean



No good, sir?



It was nice.



Very nice.



Move, you swine.



Little shit. Move.






- What did he do?

- He stole my watch.



I caught him in my bedroom.

So I brought him to Rachin.






- Where are you taking him?

- Lock-up. Fifteen days. Move.



- Wait.

- Wait for what?



He's my only baritone.



Yes, Headmaster?



I found more graffiti in the...



Forgive them, Headmaster.

It's just a wild ball.



Make way.



Mathieu, Chabert...


           're with me.



May. With each passing week,

I take in new victories.



Wake-up time. Get up.



- Leclerc.

- Yeah?



- We're still friends?

- Yeah, why?



Five and three add up to what?



- Fifty-three.

- Are you sure?



- Yeah.

- Thanks.



Perhaps it's an illusion,



but even our headmaster

seems to be changing.






Look, it's old Maxence.



Nobody move.






Come on. Come out, Mondain.



It's over, kid.



Come on. One, two...



Chabert, I just told Mr. Rachin

that Mathieu's chorus is sensational.



Hurry up.



- I'm tired.

- You're always tired.   .



- What did he say?

- "Get lost." That's it.



Where's Mondain?



You didn't notice

he was gone before the run?



He attended roll call this morning,

Headmaster. He left later.



No one goes out

for the rest of the year.



- How much did he take?

- Almost        francs.



How will I pay our suppliers?



I should never have taken him.



All for the sake of an experience.

Experience my...



Just like your music.



I won't order coal

for the boiler until next week.



In the meantime, I'm calling the police.



When Rachin in his coffin lay



His cock was hard, they say



His cock was his last bid

to lift up the coffin lid



Yes, indeed, he's a funny breed



Singing is really developing

their minds, Mathieu.



Very impressive.



They've spent three weeks

without hot water.



Cold water activates

the circulation. Get out.



By the way, Mathieu,

forget the chorus.



- But, Headmaster...

- Thank you, Mr. Mathieu.



Give me the police.



I don't know what to do

about the chorus,



but for the kids,

we can use wood.



We're out of wood.






The headmaster's private stock.



Chabert. Action-reaction.



Chabert surprised me.



I used to think he was

Rachin's zealous double,



but I discovered

that he was a nice guy



for whom sports and music were

the key elements of national unity.



Le Querrec, are you invisible?



With his help,

I'm organizing the resistance.



Our chorus is going underground.



You tend to lower your pitch

at the end of a verse.



For the last time,

please detach every single note.



It's late. Let's stop.



Sir, what about the second part?



- I didn't teach you the solo.

- I learned it.



How could you learn it?



All right. Second part.



Get out.



On May    just after  :  

Mondain came back.



- Where's the money?

- I don't know.



- So who stole it?

- It wasn't me.



Do you want more?






- He's been hitting him?

- For half an hour.



- He's crazy.

- And he's wasting his time.



The boy won't talk.



Very well.



Let's start from the beginning.



Where's the money?






Where's the money?



Let him go!



Let him go.



Calm down.



Calm down!



The boy just confessed. Excellent.

I'm calling the police.



You're going to see

new horizons, my boy.



With new guards and brand-new bars.



In order to spare

the children's fragile trust,



we hid Mondain's fate from them.



Officially, he had gone back

to his old school.



One hen



produces an average...



...of    eggs a year.






...and kept...

- I saw Rachin's daughters today.






- No.

...inside a well-ventilated...



...and clean henhouse,

the same hen will lay     eggs.



Under such conditions,

how many more eggs could...



...a farmer get...



...out of her nine hens?



Nice day.



It's nice to feel the sun.

Summer will soon be here.



Pierre is a constant source

of surprise to me.



I wanted to thank you for helping him.



I'm doing it for you too.



I mean, if Pierre is doing well,

you're doing well, so...



- Let me.

- It's nothing.



It's only ink.



- Why are you such an ass?

- You want to send us to lock-up?



What's going on?



Why are you hitting him?



Tell me, Bébert.



Because Morhange threw the ink.



You couldn't just shut up?



I'm ashamed of you, Pierre.






It doesn't matter. It's only ink.



It's just pride

because you're beautiful.






You're nothing like

the other mothers who come here.



Because I live alone?



So do I.



- But you have no children.

- No.



In fact, I've got    kids.



When you come here,

they see the woman of their dreams.



Well, the mother

they've all imagined.



It's different for Pierre.

You are his mother.



Like any other child,

he doesn't like to share.



We have to get him out of there.



- He should go to music school.

- I want him to learn a good trade.



Music is a good trade,

as long as you've been well taught.



He could go to the Conservatory in Lyon.



I'd follow his progress

to prevent any bad habits.



Even there, he could meet

mediocre teachers.



And later?



He'll become who he should be.



Pierre is special, and I'll do anything

to help him achieve his dreams.



I need your help too.



I understand.



Thank you.



No, it's all wrong.



What's the matter?

Are you asleep?



Boniface, your posture.



How can you sing that way?

Stand up straight.



From "Such a sweet concert".



What about my solo?



What solo?



My solo.



Your solo, right. It's gone.



Your voice isn't bad,

but nobody's indispensable.



I don't care if you sing or not.

We can do it without you. Listen.



Start from...



Let's start from O night.



O Night



Bring to



The Earth



The enchanting calm



Of your mystery






- You're going to get it, sir.

- Mr. Chabert said he was in town.



Thank you, children.

You can go outside.



You do know that you're

annoying me?



Headmaster, I assure you,

all their homework is done.



Our lady benefactresses

heard about your chorus.



A personal letter from the Countess.

She's coming on Sunday, with friends.



- They want to hear this.

- Wonderful.



Well, it's nice.



I can imagine the scene.

Airs and graces, music.



Some pastries perhaps?



I have to bear the brunt

of your idiocies.



Headmaster, you have to admit music

doesn't interfere with discipline.



- We've had fewer problems lately.

- Chance.



- I don't believe in chance, Headmaster.

- I realize that.



Who else could have told

the Foundation?



I did.



You can write?



- Mr. Maxence acted for the best...

- Spare me your comments.



I don't like your manners, Mathieu.



You don't like anything, Headmaster.



Mr. Rachin. You're wanted

in the visiting room.






This is for you.



Sometimes I think we should have

let Mondain strangle him.



Violette was thanking me

for helping her son.



She wanted to speak to me privately

to share some important news



at the Café de la Place,

on the   th, at  :  .



I wrote to the Conservatory in Lyon.

I'm acquainted with the director.



He was very nice about it.

He'll be happy to give him an audition



and if he's admitted, he'll try

very hard to get him a scholarship.



I believe things are about to change

for the better.






Since I met you,



I... well...


            life has... How can I say it?



Changed dramatically?






Thanks to you.



- It's such a surprise.

- I'd lost faith too.



Maybe I shouldn't get my hopes up yet.



You can trust me.



You did bring me luck.






I met someone.



He's an engineer.

From Lyon, of all things.



I met him at the café.

He's building a bridge in the area.



Are you all right?



I'm fine. It's a great opportunity

for you and for Pierre.



Don't be upset, but I have to go.



I'd like the three of us

to have lunch someday.



You can tell him all about Pierre.

Will you do it?



Why not?









Thank you for everything.



I almost forgot.



Don't tell Pierre right away.



Excuse me. May I take the chair?



- Yes, of course.

- Thank you.



Countess, a few flowers.



I didn't understand everything,

but I got the feelings.



Thank you, child.



Take these.



Countess, let me introduce

Mr. Mathieu, our prefect,



who's in charge of the chorus.



- Countess.

- Well done, sir.



Mr. Rachin's humane teaching style

is of great interest to us,



and we thank you for your support.



By the way, who decided

to form a chorus?



- Well...

- I did, Countess.



I did.



Indeed, Countess,



I'm very happy to help

such an understanding headmaster.



Well, let them sing.



He's too modest

to enjoy compliments.



- Very true.

- What are they going to sing for us?



Rameau's Hymn to Night,




It must be marvelous.



Excuse me?



Who's the little boy standing aside?

Has he been punished?



- That one?

- Yes.



He's a special case.



May I?



O Night



Bring to



The Earth



The enchanting calm



Of your mystery



The shadow which follows you



Is so sweet



It is such a sweet concert



Your voices chanting hope



Your power is so great



Transforming all into a dream



O Night



O leave still



To the Earth



The enchanting calm



Of your mystery



The shadow which follows you



Is so sweet



Is there anything more beautiful



Than a dream?



Is there any truth






Than hope?



Morhange's eyes followed my tempo,



and in them,

I suddenly read many things:



pride and

the joy of my forgiveness,



but also something quite new to him.



A feeling of gratitude.



First day of summer.



Our chorus has a new member.



I'm sorry, I missed the reprise.

My fault. Go on.



All right. Again.



In their eyes,

I can see the desire to flee,



to build a hut way up in the sky.



This fine weather makes them sad.



You have to see this. It's important.



While I was cleaning graffiti

off the toilet walls,



I lifted a stone and found this.



- That's Corbin's harmonica.

- And that.



It's        or more.



No one knew about your hideaway.



So don't tell me

it was there by chance.



You know they expelled Mondain

because of the theft.



I didn't know.



That's true. You didn't know.



Now you know.



Why? What did you want to do with it?



If I tell you,

will you tell anyone else?



No one.



I swear.



I wanted to buy...



To buy what?



A hot air balloon.



I don't know who took it,

but it proves Mondain's innocence.



He'd never have left without the money.



I'll investigate when I come back.



But don't worry about it, Mathieu.



Even if Mondain was innocent,

it won't last. We can't help his type.



- What about justice?

- Let her take care of him.



Headmaster, wait for me.

Wait for me.



Are you leaving too?



I'm getting a lift. I'm spending

the holidays with relatives.



At my sister's house.



They have a piano.



Do you know why Rachin

went to Lyon?



I think he's supposed to discuss

the balance sheet with the committee.



- No?

- Yes.



But he's mostly going to run

after a promotion and a medal.



Do you think he'll get them?



He's really smart. He's going

to present an impeccable report



without saying a word

about all the horrible things.



He'll even claim the success

of the chorus for himself.






Certainly. I heard them.

They're good.



Sir, is it true that

Langlois left with the head?



Yes. Chabert and Carpentier

have taken two weeks' holidays.



- We're in charge.

- There's no class today?






- What are we going to do?

- Take a nap.



I have a better idea.



Thank you.



I don't want to...



- Your rosette?

- Yes.



The bird is in the nest, Mr. Rachin.



I can't thank you enough.



I'm sorry, Headmaster.

You're wanted on the telephone.



I'm sorry.






- Do something. My son is up there.

- Let me through.



The fire had caught under the eaves.



The dormitories, where the children

had last been seen, were in flames.



Sixty unfortunate children,



caught in a snare.



Rachin saw his promotion

and his rosette



destroyed before his very eyes.



But, suddenly...



After breakfast, we used the door

leading out of the vegetable patch



to avoid old Marie and the villagers.



We went to the forest of Lignan.



For what purpose?



A treasure hunt.

They were so happy.



I don't need to tell you

how disappointed I am, Mr. Maxence.



This was entirely my idea, Headmaster.



Mr. Maxence never stopped

trying to dissuade me.



Not very convincing.



We could also consider the fact

that we saved the children's lives.



If you hadn't left the school,

it wouldn't have caught fire.



I don't even know

why I'm listening to you.



Mr. Maxence, owing to your long years

of service, I'll just suspend you.



As for you, Mr. Mathieu, you're fired.



For breaking the rules.



Then you should fire me too.



You don't get to decide.



It's nice of you, Mr. Maxence,

but you're needed here.



Think about the children,

since this gentleman never does.



I've settled up with you. Here.



You're leaving right now,

on the  :   bus.



You're allowed no contact

with your former students. None.



- What?

- Mr. Maxence, see to it.



Get out.



Headmaster, before I go,

I'll tell you what I think of you.



- I already know, Mathieu.

- You're an incompetent,



- truly evil man.

- What about them?



They're not here by choice.



Neither am I.

I never wanted to be a teacher.



Don't tell me you wanted to come

to that miserable place.



- You had other ambitions? So did I.

- Don't take it out on them.



Do you think I like being a warden?



Someone has to do it.



Pack up your bags and go to Paris.

Make the Ministry rounds.




"Hello. My name is Mathieu.



We need real teachers

instead of washouts."



Fight for the cause

if you believe in it, Mathieu.



Saint Mathieu.



You're nothing but a failed musician.



A prefect. A small prefect.

Small, small, small.



"What do you do, Mr. Mathieu?"

"I'm a prefect."



Small. Small. Small.



You're crazy.



I'm tired.



Go to the devil.



No, I'm leaving him behind.



I had hoped a few students

would break the rules to say goodbye.



I saw no one.



The wisdom of these children

came across as indifference.



And Morhange...






"See you soon, Mr. Mathieu."



"Goodbye, Chrome Dome."



On the first note, I recognized

Boniface's careful script.



The spelling mistakes

were Pépinot's, of course.



This one, filled with music notes,

came from Morhange.



And this one...



And that one...



Be silent! Make them stop!



The door's locked.



Open up!



Right then I felt a sudden burst

ofjoy and optimism.



I wanted to share it

with the entire world.



But who would have listened?



No one even knew I was alive.



The great artist would soon

give way to the ordinary man.



I'm Clément Mathieu,



a failed musician,

an unemployed prefect.



"I'm Clément Mathieu,



a failed musician,

an unemployed prefect."



What happened next?



He never finished his journal.



But I can tell you the story.



Pépinot answered my questions.



The following day, on the way back,

my childhood caught me by the throat.



When Mathieu was fired,

my mother took me back home.



We left for Lyon, where

I was admitted to the Conservatory.



The engineer tried

to send me to boarding school.



She refused. He left us.



Chabert, Langlois and old Maxence

joined forces to expose Rachin's abuse.



The children were questioned

and Rachin was fired.



Clément Mathieu gave music lessons

for the rest of his life,



without courting notoriety.



Everything he did, he kept for himself.



For himself? No, not quite.



Mr. Mathieu.



Mr. Mathieu.



Wait a bit.



Mr. Mathieu.



What are you doing?



Can you take me with you?






I can't do that. You have to go back

to school. They'll punish you.






- Can we go now?

- Coming.



It's forbidden.

I can't take you with me.



Go back.



Go on.



Go on.



Pépinot had been right all along.



Mathieu was fired on a Saturday.

Special help by SergeiK