The thought of murder
often evokes thoughts...
of the sea and of sailors.
What naturally follows
thoughts of the sea and murder...
is the thought
of love or sexuality.
Hey! Closing time!
Didn't you understand me, Robert?
It's closing time!
Then lock the door.
Robert is staying with me.
What did you say?
You heard me.
Robert is staying here with me tonight.
What do you think of that?
Of what?
After all, she's still your wife.
You think I should be jealous?
- It would be normal.
- Maybe, but what's normal?
We got a deal:
Lysiane does what she feels like...
and leaves me free
to do what I want, understand?
That's important for me.
- Chicago!
- Indeed.
Anyway, I want to read his cards.
Right, kiddo?
Hope you know
what you're doing.
You know
I know what I want.
You've lost, Mario.
Then let's have another drink.
You have a brother?
So what?
You never mentioned him.
Why should I?
You're very much alike,
aren't you?
That's what other people say...
but it isn't true.
Querelle is a sailor.
Maybe it's true.
And you love one another...
more than you'd like to.
Bullshit.
We're brothers...
and that's all there is to it.
Why are you shaking your head?
I don't know why...
but your brother
is in great danger.
In danger?
What kind of danger?
In danger of...
finding himself.
It's difficult to
brush past those shoulders...
profiles, curls...
those strong and supple boys...
without imagining them
capable of murder.
Finally, land.
And broads!
Juicy cunts. Hot and wet.
- Have you been in Brest before?
- Why?
Because they've got the raunchiest
whorehouse in the world.
The Feria.
Right. That's the name of the place.
Any of you guys know it?
- Yeah, but only from what I've heard.
- And what have you heard?
Nothing specific.
They say every trick has
to throw dice with the boss...
if he wants to catch a hooker.
Nono. That's the name
of the Feria boss.
That's right. Nono.
Why do they have to throw dice?
That's the rule.
When you win,
you get to have your pick.
When you lose, you have to
let the boss fuck you first.
Really?
Really, and I'm damn sure there's plenty
of guys who kinda like losing.
- If it turns them on.
- So what?
Once I have suffered the solitude
caused by my peculiarity long enough...
it may be that naked
I will hold these boys...
who shatter me with their
audacity and strength, against my body.
Though I hardly dare believe it.
With tears in my eyes,
I thank God for granting me this bliss.
My tears soften me.
I melt with their wetness
on my cheeks. I toss.
I roll in waves
of tenderness for these boys...
and their hard, shallow cheeks.
Querelle's great passion
is his own body in repose.
It is as if he's reflecting
himself in his own image.
He's looking at himself
as if through a magnifying glass.
He's scrutinizing the minute events
like an etymologist.
But how shining is his body
in the glory of his proud movements?
Your boots, sir.
Leave them there.
Anything else, sir?
No, thank you.
Since they themselves
wished to deny it...
the strange resemblance
of the two brothers...
seemed attractive only to others.
They met only in the evenings,
as late as possible...
in the one bed of a room...
near the one in which
their mother had lived in poverty.
Perhaps they met again
in their love for their mother...
but at such a deep level...
that they could not see it at all.
How long have you been in Brest?
Since yesterday.
Never thought
I'd run into you here.
I'm the lover
of the boss, Lysiane...
and have been
for the last six months.
- What about her husband?
- He's got interests of his own.
Why did you come here?
Got a little business to take care of.
I'm looking for a customer.
- Opium?
- Yeah, that's right.
No sweat.
Nono's the contact you want.
I'll introduce you.
What about the cop with him?
He's part of the furniture.
He ain't a cop in here.
Just the opposite.
He's our safety guarantee.
This is Querelle, my brother.
He has a deal for you.
He's all right.
Hello.
Good evening.
What's the deal?
Opium.
Five k's.
Ten thousand dollars.
You got it.
Cash.
Of course.
Querelle was frozen by Mario's gaze.
More than indifferent...
Mario's gaze and stance
were glacial.
At the same time, Querelle was struck
by the owner's extraordinary strength...
and the cop's beauty.
Never before had he
experienced true rivalry...
with which he had faced
in these two.
There's nothing fishy
about this, is there?
You don't have anything
to worry about with me.
You bring the merchandise
and you get the bread. Okay, buster?
And don't let Mario worry you.
Mario's part of the furniture.
Querelle had no doubt that the realm
over which this fellow ruled...
was a terrestrial one.
But was it possible the police
could be so handsome, so rich?
Let's have a drink!
When will you be here?
I got to figure how I'm gonna get
the stuff out, but I'll manage that.
I don't want to
get involved in no shit.
Don't wanna burn my fingers.
You want to dance with me?
Sure, why not?
My name's Lysiane.
I own the place.
You don't say.
I'm Robert's brother.
I know.
A penny for your thoughts, Querelle.
I acknowledge the existence
of authority in Mario.
I note his objective gestures.
Objectivity is the companion
of total power.
It holds sway over
unchallengeable moral authority.
It's a perfect social organization.
You win.
I get the feeling
you're pissed off.
It isn't my fault
my sister didn't show up.
You could have arranged
for her to get here.
I couldn't, Gil.
I swear it.
You know perfectly well
how much I like Paulette.
You like her, eh?
And you think that's funny, Roger?
Tell me if you think
that's funny!
You know...
I really want to make it
with your sister.
Can you imagine how I'd fuck her
if I held her like I'm holding you now?
You're Gil,
Gilbert Turko, a Pole.
You haven't been working
too long as a mason...
and you often lose your temper.
She really turns me on.
Man, would I screw her.
You got the same chops.
You got the same eyes.
Pity you're not her.
What are you going to tell her?
I'll do my best
to get her to come tomorrow.
Querelle was not used
to the idea that he was a monster.
Ayoung man,
he knew the terror of being alone...
caught in the world of the living.
Bravo! Bravo!
You know, for a little girl,
you sing that song just like a big boy.
Hurry up, baby.
Go on after your girl!
Otherwise she's gonna
drown herself!
Good to see you.
Why?
Got a job for you,
like the one back in Beirut.
Opium?
Right.
I'm going ashore
tomorrow afternoon.
At night I'll drop a rope
over the wall to the dock...
to the right of the customs house.
At 6:00 you take a boat,
tie the package to the rope...
then go back through customs.
We'll meet later back above.
How much?
Three hundred.
It's okay with me.
Perhaps love is a den of killers,
and if this is true...
will Querelle draw me into it?
And I?
When the time comes for me
to drown in my emotion for Querelle...
will there be
an alarm ringing for me?
We'd like you to perceive
that the sailor Querelle...
born of that solitude in which
the officer himself remained isolated...
was a figure comparable
to the angel of the Apocalypse...
whose feet rest upon the waters.
How ardently I desire
Querelle to reveal himself...
as a scoundrel
beneath that royal surface.
And then to lie at his feet...
to kiss his toes.
Little by little,
we realized that Querelle...
already inside our flesh,
was growing...
developing in our soul,
feeding off the best within us.
After discovering this about Querelle,
we want him to...
become the very hero
of those who are contemptuous.
Your papers please!
Pursuing his destiny,
his development within us...
we shall see how he goes about
realizing one single end...
which seems to be his own will
and his own destiny.
The scene we shall relate
is a transposition of the event...
which revealed Querelle to us.
We can say that it is comparable
to the Visitation.
Okay, you can go now.
My brother will take
care of everything.
No need to worry about him.
He's in Brest in the Feria.
In the Feria?
You got to be kidding.
They say the Feria's
a pretty weird place.
You can't believe every
line of bullshit you hear.
You know just as well as I do
what they say.
What of it?
He's making it
with the patronne.
That cop is covered with jewels.
I've got my jewels,
but I don't show 'em off.
I hear the boss
is helping himself too.
So what, if he digs it?
If he asked you,
would you do it with him?
Why not, if I felt like it?
I've done worse shit
than that before.
If you saw my brother,
he'd turn you on too.
You'd get together with him.
I wouldn't dig it.
I'm telling you
you would.
Want a smoke?
Nono would like you.
You're a cute chicken.
He wouldn't have a chance with me.
And me?
Would I have better luck with you?
Cut that shit out!
Querelle listened to the drums and pipes
performing for him alone.
The offices for the dead.
He wrapped himself in prudence,
waited for the angel to strike.
In a very indistinct way, Querelle
sensed that everything was not finished.
He still had to accomplish
the final formality:
his own execution.
Tell me what turns you on about
Lysiane that makes you all excited.
Explain it to me.
That's simple enough.
I like her.
Okay, you know the rules of the game.
If you win, Lysiane is yours.
If I win, you're mine.
Twenty-nine.
Twenty-five.
You lose.
Death sentence.
What did you say?
Nothing.
We won't kiss.
Goes without saying.
I'll just give my ass.
That's all.
That's right.
That's all there is to it.
Are you ready?
You got to be careful, okay?
I don't think
this is exactly painless.
Don't worry. This isn't
the first time you've been fucked.
This is the first time.
You just take my word for it.
Don't you try any
funny business with me.
Don't hand me that shit.
Not me.
Or do you think
I'm some kind of idiot?
Don't you think I saw you cheating
when we threw the dice?
That'll do.
Don't forget
I didn't ask you to do it.
Now lie down!
- You're wrong. I wanted your wife.
- Come on.
Good.
Were you a sailor?
- I was Zephir.
- Zephir?
Legionnaire in a
prison detachment.
Lie down on the table.
Come on.
It's gonna be fast.
That's how I like you.
This doesn't hurt.
I'll have to give you that.
You know your job.
Here goes nothing.
Morning, Lieutenant.
Hello, Querelle.
I must say, you're doing
a very good job.
Without even telling me,
you've offered to do another duty.
- Who ordered you to shovel coal?
- Nobody, sir.
Don't you find your job with me
a little more pleasant?
Sure, Lieutenant. Absolutely.
But this was a voluntary decision
to take over for a buddy.
They could have
found somebody else.
You look beautiful like this.
Do you find it so all that pleasant
swallowing coal dust?
No sir, but...
Yes? What were you going to say?
Nothing, sir.
Anything else you wanted, sir?
- No, why?
-Just asking, sir.
- And what are you going to do now?
- Nothing, sir. I'm at your disposal.
It's just that all my buddies
are down there alone.
Fine, then go back.
Each man kills the thing he loves
Each man kills the thing he loves
Your brother's a hot little number.
- Querelle? What do you mean by that?
- It worked real good with him.
- What worked? Your business deal?
- That worked out fine too.
But I mean something else.
I made it.
With Querelle?
That's news to me.
I swear it.
But please don't talk about it.
Not with him either.
So what?
It's none of my fuckin' business.
But you're not gonna make me believe
you fucked Querelle.
I swear.
I fucked him in the ass.
And when I pulled my cock out, it was
covered with shit, if you want to know.
I've done it with damn near
all of them, except for you.
I never wanted you, understand?
This way I can say my wife slept
with nothing but assholes.
You're the only exception.
I don't know why.
I think we could've made it,
but I just didn't want to.
You don't interest me in the least.
You don't.
You're not any
uglier than the others.
I'm just not interested.
You're a little too screwy for me.
You should know that.
Hi, Mario. How's it going?
Comme ci, comme a.
How are you?
Just fine.
- What you grinning about?
- Nothing special.
I just fucked Robert's brother.
Maybe that's why.
No kidding! Really?
It wasn't Robert, but what the hell?
It was his brother.
Look at Nono.
Sometimes there's something
so female about him...
especially when he does
one of those sweet, silly gestures.
But this Querelle is an okay guy.
Hi, Nono.
Let's go outside.
Is that what you wanted?
Cornholer!
Cornholer!
Letting a nigger fuck you!
The two brothers resembled
each other more and more.
The combat in which they were engaged
was more like a lovers'quarrel.
Say it one more time!
Call me a cornholer again!
Say it one more time!
I won't say it!
I cross the river
of creeping vines.
Help me.
I'm coming to your shore.
That will be hard, brother.
I can feel your resistance.
What do you say?
I can hardly hear it.
Jump on my laugh. Hold tight to it.
Don't worry about my pain. Jump!
Be yourself!
I'm becoming myself.
Talk more quietly.
I'm closer now.
I love you more than myself.
My hate was simply a camouflage.
A dangerous melancholy
draws me close to you...
but my battles separate us.
My laughter is the sun.
It drives away the shadows
you cast on me.
I seek out the daggers of the night.
I set up barricades.
My laughter locks me in.
It draws me away from you.
- You are beautiful.
- You are beautiful too.
Be quiet.
We mustn't lose ourselves
in an all too perfect unity.
Set your hounds and wolves on me!
To what avail?
Every fight crowns you
with a painful glow.
Don't lose courage. Work!
I love him.
The officers all bore me.
Why can't I be a sailor?
I remain standing in the wind.
Cold and headache
clamp my forehead...
and crown me
with an iron tiara.
I am growing and melting.
A naval officer.
When I was a young man,
even when I chose this career...
I didn't realize what a perfect alibi
a naval career provides.
It justifies celibacy.
Women don't ask,
"Why aren't you married?"
They pity you for knowing
only the transient affairs...
and never the true love.
The sea, the solitude...
Nobody asks me
whether or not I'm engaged.
Neither my comrades...
nor my mother.
From the time I fell in love
with Querelle...
I've become
less of a disciplinarian.
My love makes me softer.
The more I love Querelle...
the more gentle and definite...
the sadder
the woman in myself becomes...
because she cannot
achieve fulfillment.
During one of these
strange revelations...
defining my relationship
with Querelle...
I think amidst all these sorrows
and inner defeats...
"What's the point?"
That sailor got his throat slit?
Yeah. Nobody knows
who killed him.
Did you know him, Querelle?
Yeah. We all know each other.
I didn't know him well.
There is a masculine passivity...
which is expressed...
in the indifference
towards courtship...
the completely relaxed...
anticipation of the body...
concerning his role...
in the taking or giving of passion.
Want to shoot dice?
7 orders, 14 pays
and 21 's gotta drink, okay?
- Want to play too, Querelle?
- Sure, why not?
Stop the fighting!
Stop the fighting!
Between such men,
and for them alone...
a universe is established from which
the idea of woman is banished.
The absence of woman
forces the two males...
to draw a little femininity
from within each other...
to invent the woman.
You know, I know. Just ask him.
I'm okay. You can ask anybody you want.
You know, I know. Just ask him.
I'm okay. You can ask anybody you want.
And you?
You're in the navy.
I've met plenty of sailors
who were into that.
That didn't stop them
from being real men.
Maybe.
And if you let Nono fuck you,
why not me?
But you shouldn't believe
everything you hear about Nono.
I know all about life.
Believe me.
Okay, I did it with Nono.
But don't start
getting any funny ideas.
I'm no fairy.
I know that.
- But Nono did the fucking, right?
- Right.
- So?
- Forget it.
You don't have to prove to me
that you're a man.
We know...
we're both men.
You went to bed with Nono
and that's no crime.
Just as long as
he took good care of you.
I hope you got
your share of the pleasure.
I won't say no.
I could do any guy
a lot of good.
You see, if it's fun,
there's nothing wrong with it.
I'm sure Nono enjoyed it just as much.
He's a pretty hot number.
And you're very pretty.
- I look just like the next guy.
- Bullshit! I can just see Nono now.
He must've had a hard-on
the first moment he saw you.
- Tell me, is he good at it?
- Cut it.
Tell me, is he a master of his craft?
What's so interesting
about it for you?
Gets you all excited, doesn't it?
Maybe you'd like
a little taste of it yourself.
Why not, if it's nice?
- Tell me, how does he do it?
- He does it well.
Are you satisfied now?
- Did you come? Was it super?
- Try it yourself.
- Tell me. Is it nice?
- It's not bad.
When he first puts it in,
that's a little painful...
then it's okay.
Seriously, is it nice?
I just did it for the first time.
It's different than I thought.
I'll bet he's got a big prick.
Did you like his prick?
I didn't pay any attention to that.
Well, if it's bugging you,
we can stop talking about it.
No, it's not bugging me.
When I talk about this stuff,
I get a mother of a hard-on. Believe me.
You're kidding!
- Don't you believe me?
- What, this gives you a hard-on?
Check it out.
Come on. Touch it.
Bullshit!
You haven't got one!
Go on. Touch it.
You'll feel it all right.
Nothing.
You call that a hard-on?
Come on. Press it.
It's a monster!
Sure, the cloth makes it bigger.
Reach inside. You'll see.
Open it.
You'll see I'm not lying.
You're right. Not bad.
You like it?
I told you,
size doesn't interest me.
Come on.
Give me a hand job.
This is supposed to be soup?
This is fucking dishwater!
Piss broth,
that's what that is!
You need vegetables in soup...
but vegetables are getting
harder and harder to find.
Maybe we have to tighten up
our belts a little more.
Maybe we could find some vegetables
around here somewhere.
Do you think so?
Maybe someone shoved
some up his ass.
There are people who dig that.
Eat through their assholes.
You thought out this little number,
didn't you, Theo?
Well, let me tell you one thing:
I'm not going to put up
with this shit much longer!
What are you talking about?
Gets you horny, turns you on,
doesn't it?
But don't worry.
I'll always be here when you need me.
You want to fuck me?
Don't be embarrassed!
Go ahead!
And you guys laugh.
You think it's funny!
Is there anybody else
who wants to fuck me?
Please!
Cut it out, Gil.
Your hassle with Theo's
none of our business.
What? I've got
no hassle with Gil.
I don't give a shit about him.
Not one little shit!
Why didn't I smack Theo
in the mouth right then and there?
Why didn't I push
that motherfucker's face in?
Just 'cause the guy keeps
paying for my drinks?
I hate him because
he has power over me.
I wanted to be his friend,
but not like that.
He made a fool of me
in front of all of them.
And all because I didn't
smash him in the mouth soon enough.
Why didn't I push
that motherfucker's face in?
Paulette...
you sweet little piglet
with that adorable pussy.
You're going to get
another taste of my rod!
I'm a man.
I even fuck guys!
And I fuck you too, Theo!
Why didn't I push
that motherfucker's face in?
I can put you away, Theo!
Whenever I feel like it.
- Roger!
- Hi, Gil.
- Roger!
- Hi, Gil.
Roger, my mate,
let's have a drink together.
- How's it going?
- Okay, I guess.
You don't have to
worry about me.
There ain't no Theo anymore.
You don't have to put me
in the same boat as him.
I'm no faggot,
but he ain't a man.
He's a whore, a cocksucker.
You and me, we're friends.
And we've got a right to be.
But he's just a dirty motherfucker.
I think you've had
a little bit too much to drink.
Don't get in a state.
I paid for it
with my own money.
He can take his money...
and shove it
right up his ass!
I tell you, he's nothing...
and I'm going to crush him.
Hello, Gil.
It's you, Theo!
Are you buying?
I'm here with a friend.
Sure. Why not, honey?
And now you're not
with us anymore!
How did you meet Gil?
How did you meet Gil?
Easy, just like that.
He was after my sister.
Did he have an affair
with your sister?
With Paulette? No. Why?
Because we found these pictures
under his pillow.
I've nothing to say to that.
Did you make it with him?
Did you and he have an affair?
Never, Inspector. I swear it.
And this Theo,
the one Gil murdered...
did you make it with him?
Jesus Christ, I only knew him
from seeing him around.
But this Gil must
surely have tried to seduce you.
No, never, Inspector.
Whatever gave you that idea?
Simply because Gil is gay.
- That's not true!
- How could you be so goddamn sure?
Because he was after my sister,
that's why.
He never tried to touch you?
- What do you mean, "touch" me?
- You know what I mean.
Did he do anything indecent to you?
I already told you: nothing.
Did he ever run his hands
over your pants?
Didn't he even try
to touch your crotch?
No. He never did.
It's like I said.
He never touched me.
Okay.
They couldn't pull anything out of him,
who now loved Gil all the more.
At first he loved him as a child whose
imagination is quick and exhilarating.
Crime enabled him
to penetrate a world...
where feelings are violent.
You can go now.
What sudden desire?
I am nothing but desire.
At first, only mechanically...
my hands formed
female breasts on my chest...
as if they had been grafted there.
I was happy.
I went through the motions again,
and I feel happy.
I am filled.
I take my hands away,
I am filled.
- Are you looking for me?
- Yes, we are.
- That is if you're Lieutenant Seblon.
- Yes, I am.
We are from the police.
It has to do with that murdered sailor.
You mean Vic?
That's what I thought.
You don't say.
Yes, we're investigating
this Vic Rivette case...
and so far we haven't
made much progress.
- Really?
- Yes.
But maybe you could
tell me if this Vic Rivette...
had a special relationship
with any of his mates.
How do you think a love relationship
like that could be recognized?
I didn't say anything
about a "love relationship."
No? Then I probably
misunderstood you.
Probably...
but perhaps you know more
about this Vic's associations.
The physical relationships of my boys
have nothing to do with me.
And even if someone had killed Vic...
in connection with one of these
adventures, I wouldn't be informed.
Of course, Lieutenant,
but it would be possible...
that you might have heard
something about it, wouldn't it?
You must be joking.
I don't spy on my men.
Besides, take it from me.
These young people, when they get
involved with shady individuals...
they certainly don't
like to talk about it.
I believe these meetings...
are enveloped in dark secrets.
These shady characters
are extremely well-organized.
You seem to have given this particular
matter quite a bit of thought.
It only seems like it.
Basically, I'm not at all interested
in this kind of thing.
Really?
By the way, has your alibi
been checked out yet?
My alibi?
But of course. You can
check your files on that.
Are you sure?
All the best, Lieutenant.
All the best.
Do I have charms
which might conquer another?
And who, besides myself, has been
conquered by Querelle's charms?
How could I become him?
I push up my pajama sleeves...
to keep them from getting
in my way when I jerk off.
This simple motion
makes a man out of me.
Thus I appear as a lion tamer
before Querelle.
But all of this
will end tragically.
Have the cops questioned you?
Yeah, but I didn't say a word.
What was there to say?
Right.
And Paulette?
What's Paulette doing now?
Nothing special.
She still hasn't
gone back to work.
She just sits around the house.
Did you talk to her about me?
I don't think that's a good idea.
It's too dangerous. Paulette can't
always keep her trap shut.
Your picture was in the paper.
They say you've got that sailor
on your conscience too.
Says who?
The police.
It was in the paper.
Bullshit!
They don't believe
that fairy tale themselves.
They found your lighter
next to the corpse.
My lighter?
God, I must have lost that ages ago,
didn't I?
- I think so.
- There, you see?
Boy, your sister!
Could I do with
a piece of her right now!
She's so cute.
- She looks like me.
- I know.
But she's prettier.
If I were holding her
like I'm holding you now...
I'd make out with her
like crazy.
Too bad you're not a girl.
Really?
You're definitely
as pretty as a girl.
What's the matter?
Scared?
No.
What then?
What do you think I want?
You don't feel safe
with a guy like me...
do you?
What do you mean?
If I didn't, I wouldn't
have come here, would I?
Right.
You've got to see Robert.
I've been thinking this over.
He and his friends might be able
to help me get out of here.
Okay, Gil.
I'll try to get
in contact with Robert.
I think it's better you leave now.
- Yes?
- Come over here.
I know you.
You're that friend ofTurko's.
Gil Turko, the one
who committed the murder.
Don't you know me?
Yeah, you're Querelle...
Robert's brother.
Right.
Thought I might be able to help
your friend if he's still in Brest.
What do you think?
Well, since you're Robert's brother...
I'll be right back.
An uneasiness filled Querelle,
troubling his mind.
For the first time he was
going to meet another criminal...
a murderer of his own stature with whom
he would be able to talk business.
I met Querelle.
You know, Robert's brother?
He wants to help you.
Should I bring him here?
Sure! Why didn't you
bring him in the first place?
- I thought that...
- Hurry up! Get him!
It's okay. Come with me.
- Thanks, kid.
- My name's Roger. Roger Bataille.
Thanks, Roger. Roger Bataille.
Now, in this abandoned prison...
Querelle was to meet
a young fellow who had killed.
This thought filled
him with tenderness.
The murderer was an awkward kid...
a murderer for nothing.
A fool.
But, thanks to Querelle, he would be
adorned with a true murder.
Tell me...
why did you
knock that sailor off?
I don't understand that.
Come on. Tell me.
Why did you do that to the sailor?
He didn't do it.
- If he didn't, who did?
- Word of honor. I didn't do it.
I can't tell you who did it,
but I swear...
it wasn't me.
The paper said you did it.
I believe you...
but you'll never
convince the police.
They found your lighter
next to the body.
Get out, Roger. Get lost!
I can't stand another minute
of you today. Get the hell out!
I lost my lighter.
I didn't even notice it.
How can a lighter
be so important?
Finally I know why you won't let
the other girls wear black lingerie.
Why?
Because you alone are
ennobled by this black.
It makes you so beautiful...
gives you a solemn air...
and at the same time
you are unbearably hot.
Do I make you hot?
Want to see?
Okay, get started.
You're alone in the world.
The night lies
over the solitude...
of an endless space.
Like a double mirror image
of your brother...
you live in your double solitude.
You upset me.
There's no reason to hide it.
Your similarity does me in.
I'm sick of your obscenities.
Right?
Your obscenities.
Don't you think I know?
I'm sick of it.
All you ever look at
is yourselves.
I'm not even there for you.
Who am I then?
Where do I fit in?
You only live
in your brother's eyes.
Inside your brother,
and he lives inside of you.
There's no room
for me in between.
I'm at the door.
I'm too fat.
That's it. I'm too fat!
Her mind was clouded
by the extreme, precise...
indescribable melting of those
two muscular, sinewy bodies.
She tried to force
the soft, dissolving mass...
of her own sumptuous body
between them.
Robert...
my heart's delight...
I wish you'd be
alone with me once.
You make me unhappy.
I'm afraid for you.
Afraid you might not
be free anymore.
When Madame Lysiane
found herself before Querelle...
her gaze went to his fly
in spite of herself.
Perhaps this evening
the cloth would be less stiff...
would clearly outline
his cock and balls...
allowing Madame Lysiane to note a
difference between the two brothers.
She still hoped that the sailor's cock
would be smaller than Robert's.
Lysiane waited
a long time for love.
Men never did
get her all that excited.
It wasn't until she was around 40...
that she developed an appetite
for men with hard muscles.
When she enjoyed happiness,
she started to get horribly jealous.
But she didn't admit it.
She loves your brother.
Robert is her man.
The first real one, I think.
But when they make love,
they make it like gays...
and Lysiane despises gays.
You love each other.
You love each other
with your beauty.
I can't break you up.
You'll always find
your way back to each other.
You love your brother
more than me.
No way can I get around that.
That's the kind of misery...
that can only happen
to a woman my age.
I always remained indifferent...
to the desires
the others showed me...
but my mental chastity...
has built a field inside of me...
a field that can be easily sown...
with the seeds of the miraculous.
Having seen her that first day...
Querelle no longer thought
of looking at Lysiane.
But bit by bit,
with her usual authority...
she imposed herself upon him
and took possession of him.
Neither my brother nor I
is sufficiently in love with love...
to seek new experiences.
Nor do we need to satisfy
some hygienic urge.
Nono sees in his game
with Querelle an energetic...
somewhat boastful manifestation
of a horniness...
which he believes to have
discovered in Querelle.
There's nothing more to it than there
would be to an orgy in a monastery:
a bit of pleasant fun
in which Nono is also indulging...
because of his powerful shoulders.
I know I'm risking nothing...
because absolutely no emotion
clouds the purity of my game.
No passion.
It's a game without weight.
Two men having the time of their lives
by virtue of one of them...
without complication,
offering the other his ass.
Nono agreed to fuck Querelle
more or less to be nice.
It doesn't seem to him that
the sailor was in love with him...
but he needed that
to continue living.
Because of Querelle's strength,
Nono did not feel contempt for him.
You like fucking me, don't you?
Why not? It isn't bad.
If I were to say I felt for you,
that would be a lie.
I've never understood how anybody
could fall in love with a man.
I could never fall
in love with a guy.
I let myself get fucked
'cause I like it.
- Have you tried to fuck a guy?
- Never.
Not the least bit interested either.
But you don't mind
other guys fucking you?
Why not?
Like I said,
it's just for the fun of it.
Nono doesn't love me...
but I feel more and more
that something new is happening.
A feeling binds me to Nono.
I would never admit that Nono
dominates me just because he fucks me.
But you can't keep
playing the same game every day...
without subsequently
giving in to it.
Beyond that, there's Lysiane.
My friendship with you
makes me happy.
For these reasons...
I've lost the desire to continue
playing this game with Nono.
Gil felt a strange emotion when,
for the first time in his life...
Gil felt a strange emotion when,
for the first time in his life...
he saw his name in the headlines.
It was on the front page.
At first he thought
the story was about someone else...
and at the same time
about himself alone.
Nevertheless,
the judges will realize...
Realize what?
What judges?
You're not thinking
of giving yourself up now?
That would be really idiotic.
You've been hiding out too long
for them not to believe you're guilty.
His name exposed him,
and exposed him completely naked.
This was glory...
terrible to be ashamed of it...
of entering it
through the door of contempt.
What have you got to lose?
If you steal something now,
it won't even go on your record.
What's a robbery next to a murder?
There isn't much a sailor
like me can do, but I've done it.
I looked for a likely safe place...
and I've found one.
Really?
If you had money...
you could buy some different clothes
and get out of here safely.
What's the plan?
My lieutenant has
an appointment today.
He always has
lots of cash on him.
And how's this
supposed to come out?
Easy.
Easy?
On his way, he'll pass
a pissoir he always uses.
He turns on to
the dirty graffiti in there.
Change into these.
No one will ever suspect you.
What if he tries to fight me off?
I mean...
He never fights.
He's too chicken for that.
He's just a big queen.
What if he does fight?
I thought of that.
You have to think of everything.
That's why I brought this.
A gun?
Only if push comes to shove.
You won't need it.
I'm sure of that.
That suit looks perfect on you.
You think so?
If I say so.
I'm gonna give you a mustache.
Perfect.
It's the pissoir between the dock
and the Catholic church.
Double brandy.
Hands up!
- What's all this about?
- Shut up!
Just hand over your briefcase
or I'll shoot.
I wouldn't do that if I were you.
Shut up and don't move.
Give me your cash
or I'll blow a hole in your guts.
Go ahead. Shoot.
Come on. Shoot!
Come on!
Okay?
Almost.
Almost?
What's that supposed to mean?
He didn't want
to hand over the cash.
I had to shoot!
And is he...
Just wounded him.
Hit him in the shoulder.
How much cash did he have?
Fifty thousand.
I threw the briefcase in the sea.
That's good.
That's very good.
And now?
I bought you a ticket to Bordeaux.
For when?
Today. 4:20.
Already? Today?
Every second you stay in Brest
is dangerous.
Now you've got money.
You can take care of yourself.
Fifty thousand ought
to do you for a while.
I'm so lucky
you helped me out, Querelle.
- You know?
- Forget it.
You still gotta be careful
they don't catch you.
Can I trust you to keep your trap shut
if you do get nabbed?
Sure you can.
The cops will never get
anything out of me.
I never even heard of you.
Well, I better leave now.
Yeah, I guess you better.
Sorry about this, old buddy.
Really.
- I liked you.
- I like you too.
But we'll meet again.
I'll never forget you.
You say that now.
Life happens fast.
You've already forgotten me.
No way, pal.
Not at all.
I'm not that kind of guy.
Really?
You won't forget me?
If I say I won't,
you know I won't.
Funny what good friends
we've become.
We were friends
right from the start.
I hope nothing happens to you.
Querelle's friendship for Gil
developed to the brink of love.
Like himself, Gil had killed.
He was a little Querelle
for whom Querelle maintained...
a strange feeling
of respect and curiosity.
As though he was standing before
the fetus of a baby Querelle.
He wanted to make love to him...
because he believed his tenderness
would be strengthened by it.
Because he would be
more closely linked to Gil...
whom he would then link
more closely to himself.
But he didn't know
how to go about it...
since he, having always been fucked,
didn't know how to fuck a guy.
A gesture
would have embarrassed him.
- You're sweet, you know that?
- Why?
You let me kiss you like this
without complaining about it.
Why should I?
I told you you are my friend.
- This isn't bothering you, is it?
- No.
You've got to be
my very special friend forever.
- Do you understand?
- Yes.
- And will you?
- Yes.
In some obscure way...
Querelle understood
that love is voluntary.
You have to want it.
When you don't love men...
letting yourself get fucked
can give you pleasure...
but to fuck men,
you have to love them...
even if only
at the moment you're fucking.
So if he was to love Gil,
he would have to give up his passivity.
Querelle tried.
My friend.
What a shame we can't
stay together forever.
But we'll meet again.
To be together like here...
I'd like that.
The vision of the solitude
in which their love had developed...
increased his love for Gil.
And he felt to be
everything for him...
his one friend, his one family.
I never loved a boy before.
- You're the first one.
- Truly?
Truly.
Gil had finally resigned himself
to the other crime.
Little by little, he assumed
responsibility for the sailor's murder.
Hi.
You want something from me?
Depends.
On what?
On you.
I've got a tip for Mario.
But you've got to promise me you won't
tell anybody where it came from.
Nobody.
Never.
Is that clear?
I promise you.
That's all I can say.
That'll do.
You can tell Mario...
that this Polack...
this Gil Turko...
will be on the train
that leaves for Bordeaux at 4:20.
Ciao.
But loved by Querelle...
I would be loved
by every sailor in France...
because Querelle is a compendium of all
their masculine and naive virtues.
If I desire authority...
this admirable form
which evokes love and fear...
then I must awaken
a feeling for this authority...
in the heart of the sailors.
They ought to love me.
I want to be their father
and injure them.
I shall mark them.
They will hate me.
In the face of their misery
I shall remain unmoved.
More and more, the feeling
of perfect power will fill my being.
Having conquered my compassion,
I shall be strong...
and sad, when I regard
my pathetic disguise.
I know that I will
never leave Querelle.
My whole life will be
dedicated to him.
Good morning.
When I suffer,
I can not believe in God.
In pain,
all I can count on is myself...
in the misfortune for which
I have someone else to thank.
I always knew
you were a murderer!
Come on! Stab me!
We haveJesus to thank
that we are able to glorify humility...
for He made it
the sign of the divine.
The godhead in our
innermost depths...
For why should we renounce
the violence of this world?
If this Godhead
is to confront violence...
then it must be strong
if it is to achieve the victory.
And humility can only
be born of humiliation.
Otherwise it is nothing
but vanity.
Put away your knife.
- Good morning, Lieutenant.
- Good morning. What can I do for you?
Would you be good enough
to come with me to the police station?
Certainly.
For what reason?
I want you to look at a suspect.
It concerns the robbery.
- You have a suspect then, do you?
- We have.
Is that a fact?
Then I'll be glad
to come along with you.
Let's go.
Querelle was now Lysiane's lover.
The excitement she felt thinking about
the identity of the two brothers...
exasperated her
to such a degree that she felt lost.
What did you hope to achieve...
by attacking
your fellow worker Theo Celine?
- I wanted to kill him.
- You did?
So you already thought of killing him
when you broke the bottle...
with which
you mortally wounded him?
Yes, I wanted to kill him.
So, before you hit him, it was clear
that you might kill him with the bottle?
Absolutely, Inspector.
I wanted to kill him.
Why did you want to do that?
He hurt my honor and my soul.
How did he do that?
He made fun of me
in front of everybody...
including myself.
And that was reason enough
for you to kill a man?
Can one man do
anything worse to another...
than hurting his honor?
Well...
I suppose there are some differences
of opinion on that subject.
I repeat once again:
you killed the sailor Vic Rivette
to rob him of his money...
and you killed Theo Celine
because he hurt your honor.
Is that correct?
Yes.
That's correct.
And the robbery
of Naval Lieutenant Seblon?
It's exactly as I told you.
I had nothing to do with that one.
You're sticking
to your story on that. Fine.
- Marcellin?
- Yes, Inspector.
Well, Lieutenant, here he is.
Do you recognize him?
You, take off your hat.
And get up.
No, it's not him.
I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I must ask you
to think this one over very carefully.
Maybe you do remember
this young man.
I don't understand
what you're getting at.
I'm concerned with justice too.
I can't accuse an innocent man.
Are you absolutely certain?
Absolutely.
I would have recognized him right away
because his face was right next to mine.
Lieutenant, you may go now.
You haven't even
got a decent hard-on.
It doesn't stay up forever.
Buy yourself a rubber one.
You know...
I've dreamt a lot
about your prick lately.
Yeah?
Was it nicer in your dreams?
No.
I'm very satisfied.
You have a solid, heavy,
massive prick.
Not elegant, but strong.
And so different from Robert's.
Different how?
Your prick has more character.
Why did you refuse me for so long?
I didn't refuse you.
It's just that you were
my brother's woman.
And now?
Now I'm getting revenge
on my brother.
So...
that's the reason.
And me?
And me?
You?
You're just a woman.
Each man kills the thing he loves
Some do it with a bitter look
Some with a flattering word
The coward does it with a kiss
Careful, Querelle!
If you lose your footing,
you can sometimes fall very far.
Thanks, Inspector.
How about it?
Throw dice with me?
No.
I'll never throw dice
with you again.
Give me a double scotch.
They even have to get drunk
on the same day.
The "Holy Brothers."
I said a double.
Some kill their love
when they are young
And some when they are old
Some strangle with the hands of lust
Some with the hands of gold
Where are you going?
That's nobody's business.
Do you hear me?
Hey, you wanna get fucked?
Come on, baby.
You wanna get fucked by me?
There.
- Motherfucker!
- Hitting a defenseless girl.
If you were a real man...
Watch out, guys, he's got a knife.
Don't be crazy.
This is pure madness.
I don't want you to get involved
in this kind of business.
Put away your knife.
Come on.
Come with me.
You're a pal.
All the others are assholes,
but you're a pal.
Whatever you want from me,
it's yours.
Be quiet. If an officer
were to come along...
I don't give a fuck!
As far as I'm concerned,
you're all there is.
Stop yelling!
You're going to wind up
in the brig!
I'd be very sad
if you went to prison.
Really?
You're just saying that.
You're an officer.
What do you care?
You know perfectly well
it isn't so.
I'm on the brink of a shame
from which no man ever rises.
But only in that shame
will I find my everlasting peace.
I am so weak.
I've been conquered.
Totally conquered.
And my thoughts are sad.
I have feelings of autumn...
soilings...
fine mortal wounds in me.
I will never find peace
until you take me.
It must be done
so that afterwards...
I can lie across your thighs
like a Piet...
cradling a dead Jesus.
That's the guy who shot me.
I recognize him.
Querelle, finally!
Why did you keep me
waiting so long?
You want to hurt me?
Destroy me?
My longing for you...
is so strong...
so deep...
endless.
What's all this about?
Why are you crying?
Because you've been longing for me?
Do you know
who you've been longing for?
Your husband's boyfriend.
His piece of ass.
Look at him! Big Nono!
The best stallion that ever existed!
- That can't be true!
- Why shouldn't it be true?
Cut it out, kid.
There's no point in it.
You fucked with Nono...
only because...
you love your brother madly, right?
More and more, Lysiane was
left out of the game.
All that was most beautiful and
most incredible took place without her.
Believe whatever you want.
So, kid, you're nothing more
than a fairy, right?
- What's so funny about it?
- Nothing.
Except that makes
Nono a fairy too!
I think that's pretty funny.
- And Robert?
- What do I care about Robert?
- I'm me!
- You're disgusting!
You're my enemy!
You've destroyed me.
You have mysterious powers.
They multiply infinitely.
You're not a human being.
You don't belong to this earth!
When looking at Querelle,
Lysiane had already lost that feeling...
fencers call
"the fraternity of the sword. "
She was alone.
I know now...
why I feel so abandoned.
Querelle's inner harmony
was indestructible...
because it was sealed
in that heaven of heavens...
where beauty unites with beauty.
What's with you?
I was wrong!
You haven't got a brother.
You understand?
I made a mistake.
Do you hear me?
You haven't got a brother.
He hasn't got a brother at all.
His birth certificate states...
"Born December 19, 1918,
10:00 A.M.
Mother: Gabrielle Genet.
Father: unknown.
Apart from his books,
we know nothing about him.
Not even the date of his death...
which to him seems near.
Jean Genet. "