The Edge of the Blade (Une affaire d'honneur)

Paris, 1887. Honor is an affair of blood.

Duels were the rage, despite being banned by the Penal Code.

After an insult, duelists had 48 hours to organize a combat

and save their reputation.

Good evening, it's an honor.

There he is! Hello, Mr. Prefect.

Mr. Massat, so where is this champion?

In the backroom, getting ready.

One minute, darling.

Come, follow me.

Master Lacaze.

Master, please meet the Prefect of Paris and his deputy.

Mr. Massat has promised us a great fencing display.

He's an artist. He must concentrate.

Of course.

Colonel Berchère should be here by now.

Then let's go.

Gentlemen.

Sir.

- During the war, he declined a promotion to remain sword master.

- Colonel, your presence is an honor. - Don't be silly.

Please meet my friend Marguerite.

Gentlemen, ladies, silence please!

Please take your seats.

The demonstration will soon begin.

Mr. Prefect!

Good evening.

I wish to thank the organizers of this foil fencing match,

Mr. Ferdinand Massat,

editor-in-chief of the Petit Journal ...

and Mr. Élois Dubuisson, editor of the Gil Blas .

To my right, Sword Master

Clément Lacaze, considered the greatest fencer today.

- Opposite him, Spanish Sword Master Gustavio de Borda,

freshly arrived from Madrid.

Two techniques, two great masters.

Tonight, they defend the honor of France and Spain.

We are gathered to celebrate the values that unite us.

Honor, discipline and courage.

Values that the art of fencing teaches so well.

Let the match begin!

Gentlemen.

On guard!

Fence!

Halt!

Your friend Lacaze humiliated me in front of the prefect.

What did he do?

- He didn't even say hello. - He didn't even say hello.

Ready!

Gentlemen, reprise!

I need some fresh air.

I can't talk now.

What's going on?

Let her go!

Don't touch her!

Fool!

Marguerite, tell him we love each other.

Young man, you're playing a dangerous game.

Reprise!

You alright?

I'm fine.

THE EDGE OF THE BLADE

- My head here? - Yes, in the clamp.

Hold your head straight.

What a pain. This feels like a bayonet.

Latina!

One minute, I need to find the pose.

- Madam... - Marie-Rose Astié de Valsayre.

- Madam de Valsayre... - Call me Astié.

The sitting time is long.

You mustn't move.

Take me as I am, for all eternity.

Ready? Don't move.

It's in the can.

You can breathe.

Pack everything up.

Madam Astié, the photograph will be ready tomorrow

for the publication of your article in La Citoyenne .

- Latina? - I'm ready.

Mr. Prefect, the decree of November 7, 1800

stipulates that women dressed up as men are to be arrested.

This prohibition to wear pants places us in danger.

Like at the Opéra-Comique fire,

where women were trapped by their dresses.

Not to mention pneumonia

and other ailments caused on rainy days

when damp permeates to the bone.

Or the breathlessness and fainting spells caused by corsets.

Sir, your diktat weakens the feminine sex.

I demand total freedom of movement for women

and ask you to repeal the law

forbidding women from wearing pants.

Yours truly, etc.

Anything interesting?

Nothing we haven't covered.

The Rue Montaigne affair... Did the concierge say anything?

- She heard nothing. - Maybe the killer paid her off.

Nothing stops a woman from talking. It's what they do best!

- Astié de Valsayre... - The foreign press talks about her.

Again?

"A nurse during the Franco-Prussian War

when she was only 18..."

Listen to this!

"...she has created the first women's fencing league!"

She's a madwoman!

In La Citoyenne,

she demands that women have access to all studies and careers,

the right to vote and equal wages!

My parry was too low.

Your legs are too slow. You weren't at the right distance.

Your legs.

Your arm, Gabriel.

Point!

Halt.

When your adversary lifts his foot,

you parry with a septime.

Go on.

That was better.

You knew him?

No.

Tell him about the girl.

I was in shock.

She was there with him.

Right in front of me.

You didn't know?

No.

Eugène.

You got yourself into a fine mess.

Clément, help us.

He's far too young to fight. I'm begging you, do something.

Adrien,

tell me exactly what happened with Colonel Berchère.

Adrien, we must know the precise nature of the insult.

Adrien, please talk.

I lost my mind.

What did you say to him?

Did you insult him directly?

No, I... I pushed him and he almost fell.

But he didn't fall?

And then I slapped him.

Clément, tell him honor means nothing if you die.

He must end this madness.

Mother can't understand.

It was an act of passion.

Berchère might not have the choice of arms.

Uncle, be my second.

No.

A sword master must stay on the sidelines.

He cannot be your second.

It's not too late to apologize, say you regret your act.

I ask you to do this.

I want to fight.

May God protect him.

I prayed every day during the war and you came back safe.

Stop.

- Go home and don't worry. - Go home and don't worry.

I'll take care of Adrien.

You see the press?

- I haven't had time. - Find some.

What people say about you matters.

- In your paper? - Yes.

We make your reputation.

You make my reputation or I make yours?

It's the two of us.

Go easy with the weights.

Mr. Massat, your carriage is here.

I'm coming.

First duel?

On guard!

One step back.

Two steps forward.

Retreat.

Three steps forward.

Retreat.

Men, leave a place for Adrien.

Arms extended.

Lunge.

On guard!

Balestra!

Lunge.

On guard.

Hold your sword like a tiny bird. Too tight, you crush it

and it dies.

Too loose... Too loose and it flies off.

Pick up your sword, sir.

First position.

Salute.

Face to face.

Let us proceed with the charges.

"Further to an insult and a blow to the face

which took place on July 17, 1887,

Colonel Louis Berchère considers his honor offended

by Mr. Adrien Béranger and asks his seconds,

Alfonse Humbert and Henri Rochefort, "to demand reparation."

These are the charges.

Based on the facts, a combat is deemed inevitable.

The colonel cedes his right to choose arms due to his experience.

An epee duel will take place under the following conditions:

Arms.

Each man has his own regulatory arm.