The Battle of Algiers Page #5

The entranced eyes of all present are staring at the pieces of wood.

Ali's hands seem to move by themselves.

His glance, always a bit sullen, apparently distracted, indifferent,

passes from one face to another, and then to the street, from one side

to another.

At fifty yards, a policeman. Two Europeans, a man and a woman, are

speaking to him in an excited manner, and nudging him along pointing to

Ali.

WOMAN:

Look! Yes, that's him!

Ali is no longer singing. His hands have stopped moving.

A POLICE SIREN IS HEARD.

Ali pushes his way through the crowd.

He breaks into a run.

The policeman also begins to run.

9STREET. ALI'S FLIGHT. OUTSIDE. DAY.

The street is sloping. Ali flees, pursued by the policeman. He dodges

passersby with agility. He gains ground. But nearby are heard ...

SIRENS:

and also in front of him.

Another two policemen; they too are running.

There is an intersection. At the corner, a cafe.

GAY MUSIC.

Young Europeans leaning against a shop window stop chattering and look.

Ali reaches the corner, crosses the street, passes by the bar.

There is a blond youth, about eighteen, who seems to be a student who

stretches out his foot, and pushes a chair in front of him.

Ali stumbles and falls.

The youth attempts a laugh, and at the same time moves backward.

Ali is lying face downward, but suddenly turns his head toward the

youth and stares at him. Then lifting himself by his arms, he turns to

look back.

The police are now twenty yards away.

Ali gets to his feet. For a split second, he hesitates. He hurls

himself against the youth, headfirst.

Using his head, Ali rams into the youth's face, striking him in the

nose and splurting blood everywhere.

The youth is unable to shout. He opens his mouth in the attempt, but

the only result is a gurgling sound and blood. His friends intervene.

Ali is surrounded. The police arrive. A mass of people jump on Ali,

kicking him and striking him with their fists as long as they please.

Finally the police aid Ali and disperse the crowd.

Ali is now in handcuffs and being led away.

More people have arrived. They are yelling, shouting insults, and

spitting on Ali.

Ali passes in their midst protected by the police. He pays no heed to

the fist blows, the shouts, the spits, but seems neither to see nor

hear, as if he were already resigned to having lost the battle this

time, and were preparing to wait patiently for a better chance.

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