Love is only separated by a window-"The Fugitive Beibei" (1937)

Guadalupe 2022-06-08 20:54:11

A fugitive Bebe, who has been hunted down by the whole city for many years, hides in the maze-like Algiers fortress Kasbah. The police tried every means to catch him.
The police spread the news of Beibei's death, and the desperate lover decided to go away by boat. Beibei decided to risk her escape from the ant colony fortress to meet her.
He came to the port...
Looking for her figure
through the window ... Love is only through a window, as if within reach, but what awaits him is his fate...
Beibei was taken off the boat, he I want to look at her again...
He looked endlessly through the iron gate...
She seemed to feel something, she got up and came out...
boarded the deck...
He called her name with all his strength... ...What
she heard--but it was a harsh whistle...
he took out a dagger and pointed it at his chest...
fallen down while the ship was going away...

The poetic realism film "The Fugitive Bebe" in 1937 was considered It was a pioneer of film noir, and it directly influenced Grimm's creation of his later "The Third Man."
Beibei's way of playing is very interesting. You can see his shadow in the way of appearances by Rick in "Casablanca" and Hanniba in "The Silent Lambs".
2012.11.23 in Beijing

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Extended Reading

Pépé le Moko quotes

  • Janvier: Pépé le Moko is still at large.

    Meunier: Algiers isn't Pigalle.

    Janvier: In Pigalle, he'd have been behind bars long ago.

  • Meunier: The Casbah is like a labyrinth. I'll show you. You can say Pépé's gone underground. From the air, the district known as the Casbah looks like a teeming anthill, a vast staircase where terraces descend stepwise to the sea. Between these steps are dark, winding streets like so many pitfalls. They intersect, overlap, twist in and out, to form a jumble of mazes. Some are narrow, others vaulted. Wherever you look, stairways climb steeply like ladders, or descend into dark, putrid chasms and slimy porticos, dank and lice-infested. Dark, overcrowded cafés. Silent, empty streets with odd names. A population of 40,000 in an area meant for 10,000. From all over the world. Many, descended from the barbarians, are honest traditionalists, but a mystery to us. Kabyles. Chinese. Gypsies. Stateless. Slavs. Maltese. Negroes. Sicilians. Spaniards. And girls of all nations, shapes and sizes. The tall. The fat. The short. The ageless. The shapeless. Chasms of fat no one would dare approach. The houses have inner courtyards, which are like ceilingless cells that echo like wells and interconnect by means of terraces above. They're the exclusive domain of native women. But Europeans are tolerated. They form a city apart, which, step by step, stretches down to the sea. Colorful, dynamic, multifaceted, boisterous, there's not one Casbah, but hundreds. Thousands. And this teeming maze is what Pépé calls home.