I Confess

Synopsis: Otto Kellar and his wife Alma work as caretaker and housekeeper at a Catholic church in Quebec. Whilst robbing a house where he sometimes works as a gardener, Otto is caught and kills the owner. Racked with guilt he heads back to the church where Father Michael Logan is working late. Otto confesses his crime, but when the police begin to suspect Father Logan he cannot reveal what he has been told in the confession.
Genre: Crime, Drama, Thriller
Director(s): Alfred Hitchcock
  1 nomination.
Rotten Tomatoes:
95 min

Who's there?


Why are you here this time of night?

L... I wanted to pray.

Is something wrong?


Can I help you in any way?

- Can I be of any help?

- No one can help me.

I have abused your kindness.


You gave my wife and me

a home, a job, even friendship.

I felt you would let me

be your friend.

So wonderful a thing for a refugee,

a German, a man without a home.

- You will hate me now.

- I don't hate anyone, Keller.

You will, after what you

have done for me.

You trusted me.

You saw that my wife and I

were not common servants.

It was you who found more pleasant

tasks for us, working here in the rectory.

It was my wife, working so hard...

It breaks my heart.

What is the matter?

I must confess to you.

I must tell someone.

I want to make a confession.

I confess to almighty God

and to you, Father, that I have sinned.

- When was your last confession?

- I can't remember.

Can you remember approximately?

I have killed Mr. Villette.

Go on.

Villette, the lawyer.

I went to his house tonight.

I went to steal his money.

I wore a cassock to avoid attention.

He surprised me.

He was going to call the police.

He was going to call the police.

I tried to stop him.

I didn't mean to kill him.

Alma, I'm not a murderer.

It was an accident.

It was the money.

How could I watch you work so hard?

I lie awake night after night...

...and I think, "All we need is $2000."

Alma, with $2000, we can

start a new life.

Villette was rich...

...but now I cannot keep it.

That's what Father Logan told me.

I must give it back. I promised him.

Oh, it's so hard, Alma.

It's so dangerous.

They will catch me.

They will hang me.

I cannot.

I cannot.

Father Logan will go to them.

He will tell them.

He will tell them?

He cannot tell them

what he heard in confession.

The police will come.

Why, Alma?

Why should they come here?

They know nothing.

I have told them nothing, have I?

- Alma, no one knows.

- Father Logan.

He cannot tell them what

he heard in the confessional.

Can't you understand that?


- What is it, Alma?

- You're going to the police?

What is today, Alma?

Isn't it the day when I attend

to Mr. Villette's garden?

But he's dead.

I always work in Mr. Villette's

garden on Wednesdays.

Today is Wednesday, Alma.

- Good morning, Father Logan.

- Good morning, Father.

Tell me, will it take you and Keller...

...much longer to finish

the painting in this room?

I don't know.

I ask because the smell

makes one quite ill.

You know, I read some

advertisement about paints...

...and, of course, one shouldn't

judge on so little evidence, but l...

- After you, Father.

- One finds it difficult to believe...

...that there are paints with no smell.

Do you know of any paints

that do not smell, Father Michael?

Do I know...?

No, I don't.

Well, don't think of it.

It doesn't matter.

How fortunate we are

to have Keller with us.

The man is clever about everything.

Before he came six months ago...

...don't you remember how all

the drains wouldn't work...

...and the windows would not open?

One can learn a great deal from him.

Father Benoit and his bicycle

are in time for breakfast.

Good morning, Father Millars,

Father Michael.

- Good morning.

- Morning.

Seriously, must you keep your bicycle

in the hall, Father Benoit?

It doesn't always fall, and I don't

seem to know where else.

- It's lucky he doesn't have a horse.

- Would you pass me the butter, please?

Mrs. Keller, would you ask your husband

to look at my front tire?

- It's flat. Could you, please?

- My husband? But it is Wednesday.

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George Tabori

George Tabori (24 May 1914 – 23 July 2007) was a Hungarian writer and theater director. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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