125 rue Montmartre

Synopsis: Pascal sells newspapers . He is a simple man who one day resting on the banks of the Seine sees a drowning stranger . Pascal saves his life and begins his adventure next to a man who says his wife wants to intern in a madhouse. Not imagine what is where will take your good deed
85 min


- So,

the king of the paperboys...

...you tired?

Is his majesty expecting someone

to bring him his papers.

You're right.

Mmne there'll put 'em aside for you for a favour.

You needn't get yourself worked up.

The papers... they're her love letters.

But it's off to the mines for the rest.

They don't have your biceps,

they don't turn on the dames.

In this life, if ya can't seduce, you gotta sweat.

You, you gotta sweat.

l'm old and ugly...'m I tiring you?

No... you're giving me the shits.

There's your hundred...

you could say 'thanks'.


You could say 'good day'.

Good day, thank you and goodbye.

- Gimme 50.

- Pascal!


I see you a lot.

Twice a day, anyway.

I wasn't talking about here, but in general.

For tonight l've made 'boeuf-miroton'.

If that grabs you...

Boeuf-miroton? Right now I can't...

l'm getting fat rolls.

You know I could help you lose them...

you wanna hear that don't you...

You're a skunk.

You don't really mean it!

Hey, Mmne...

My fifty?

Auguste, will you check my sprocket....

my chain's jumping.

Can't do it today.

Tomorrow alright?

Yes...but l'm counting on you.

Understood. Cheerio.

Get your latest "France-Soir"!

"France-Soir"... final!

There you are sir. Thank you.

Get your latest "France-Soir"!


"France-Soir". Monsieur.

Get your latest "France-Soir"!


"France-Soir", madame.

I can't change that much.

I don't have any change.

It's the same for both of us.

You keep your paper

and l'll keep mine.



There you are.

You wanna take a "Le Monde" as well?

Then you'll know all the news.

Why not?

You wanna lift?

No thanks.

Cheers, Pascal.



Come on!

Come on! Here!

l'm cold.

It's a bit breezy.

Come out into the sun.

There, that feel better?

l'm still cold.

You've just been cavorting in the drink...

you're a scream, you are!

What's happened

to make you do this?

If I were to tell you,

you wouldn't believe me.

Come away!

Come back under the bridge!

You don't look as if you like the pigs.

What've you done to upset them?

You robbed a bank... or what?

You'd ridicule me if you knew.

If I knew what?

What someone did to me.


A woman.

You jumped in because of a woman?


So now let's fix you up.

Take it off.

Hurry up.

Turn around.

Hold it.

Gimme ya shirt

and put this on.


Wanna smoke?

No thanks.

Still cold?

No, but l'm hungry.

You're not backward in coming forward.

You say when you're cold.. you say when you're hungry.

For someone else to fix.

So now l'm s'posed to feed you?

l've had nothing to eat for two days.

Don't complain...

...you'll avoid indigestion.

So, what... you're broke?


I don't know anyone in Paris.

I came from my place.

Where's your place?

Puisaye, in Creuse province.

What'd you do there?

Battery chickens?

Battery chickens?

I was a land-owner.

Wha..? land-owner?

You kidding me?

I don't have any money,

but I do have property, my good fellow.


Believe it or not, my good fellow,

I can't stand your type.

So, f*** off back into the drink...

or sell your estates.

There's 500.

Get yourself something to eat

so I don't need to see you again.

You shouldn't've pulled me

out of the drink then!

Alright... come along.

Raymond! Hey, Raymond!

Come on.

Hi, can you give us a lift?

Of course.

Righto, loser from Creuse...

get up on the back.

Shove over, make room

and open the door.

Your bike broken down again?

Oh, it's always the chain.


- Don't forget my leeks.

Pardon, Paulette.

Your calf's head, Monsieu Pascal,

and one leeks.

Could you pass me the pepper.


What you waiting for?

Aren't hungry?

OK.. so leeks aren't a fun dish.

That goes for the rest

the way l'm thinking...

Ah yeah? And just what are you thinking,

might I ask?

About her.

You're not thinking of starting again!

You might think it's a joke,

but for me it's serious.

Mealtime...that's what's serious.

And occasionally... screwing,

but you don't have to drown yourself over it.

What's she got more than any others?

She's mine.

You wanna pledge your troth

in front of the mayor?


Oh...excuse me.

You can't know

what a b*tch she is.



My wine.


You don't give a damn.

No, not really.

l'll tell you anyway.

You've got a right to know.

Bon apptit, Pascal.

If it'll make you happy...

I knew her down there, at Puisaye.

She wasn't like the others.

She was from town....Aubusson.

Your talking about quite a place.

I hadn't experienced her style of dress...her makeup.

I spotted her right away.

Same with her...

except that she'd spotted my farm-houses,

my barns, my cows.


Well, she knew just what it was worth.

She was beautiful.

To make a long story short, you humped her, right?

It wasn't that simple.

With her, nothing's simple.

At first...l'd have to marry her.

She had principles.

And you'd have been more of the immoral type,

a bit of a lad?

Go on.

Paulette, a bit of pie on the side.

l'd been happy for just 8 hours

when the brother-in-law turned up.

Her brother-in-law...

a total arsehole.

They did everything possible to drive me nuts,

iand they succeeded.

Don't get worked up.

Have a drink.

You don't believe me?

No...I do...come on, drink.

They had it in their heads that I should sell up everything

to come and settle in Paris.

They would have taken everything and

put me out of business for ever.

I realised too late.

Paulette, do you have any more apricots?

No, they're finished.

OK...leave it...that'll be OK.

Every time I got angry,

the brother-in-law made an issue of it.

He made me fly off the handle in front of other people.

In front of the lawyer, the priest.

People started treating me

as if I had something wrong with me.

One day, they pulled out all the stops

and had a doctor come from Paris.

Did he fit this story?

Yes, he was a mental specialist.

He started to talk about treatment.

Bro-in-law said:
"That'll relieve

Catherine." The slut agreed.

I just had time to beat it.

Well...tell me...

You wanted to drown yourself over that?

There was a lot too it. You don't know what it's like

if you've never had someone try and lock you up.

Not yet. But if I hang around you for long,

it'll happen pretty soon.

OK...time to beat it..

Aren't we paying?

I pay weekly here

If your paying,

l'll give you back your 500.

For tomorrow,

what're you gonna do?

'Bye, Paulette.


Cheers, Maurice.

See you, Pascal.

This is where I live.


l'll give you back your jumper.

You dunno where to sleep, eh?


Come on.

It's great what you're doing for me,

my good fellow.

Don't call me your good fellow,

I don't like it.

Fair enough.

Your name's Pascal?

Yes, but all the wheelbarrow jokes

have already been done.

l'm Didier Barrachet.

Didier, OK with you?

OK with me?

It sweeps me off my feet!

Better than that,

it transports me.

Hang on, we're there.

This is it.

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André Gillois

Maurice Diamant-Berger (8 February 1902 – 18 June 2004), known as André Gillois, was a French writer, radio pioneer and - during the Second World War - general Charles de Gaulle's spokesman in London. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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