'La liberté, c'est toute l'existence,
Mais les humains ont créé les prisons,
Les règlements, les lois, les convenances
Et les travaux, les bureaux, les maisons.
Ai-je raison ?
Alors disons :
Mon vieux copain, la vie est belle,
Quand on connaît la liberté,
N'attendons plus, partons vers elle,
L'air pur est bon pour la santé.
Partout, si l'on en croit l'histoire,
Partout on peut rire et chanter,
Partout on peut aimer et boire,
A nous, à nous la liberté !'
Above is the freedom song sung by the prisoners in the jail Émile (Henri Marchand) and Louis (Raymond Cordy) find themselves in, and they are friends planning to break out. Louis succeeds, but Émile is sent back to prison, from which he eventually manages to escape. Meanwhile Émile has worked his way up from street record seller, to having his own shop selling phonographs, to owning a huge phonograph factory with many workers: he is living a life of luxury with untold wealth.
But the interesting thing about this factory is that it in so many ways resembles the prison Émile and Louis have experienced: instead of making toy horses like the convicts, Louis now has his workers, after clocking in, march into soldiers kept strictly in file, manning an assembly line maybe screwing a nut in, overwatched by foremen instead of wardens, taking their meals from a conveyor belt (like the prisoners), and are searched on their exit. Louis doesn't seem to see the irony though.
By accident Émile joins the factory workers and then meets Louis, who is slow to recognise him. This film is an early bromance, and Émile will fondly remember the winks he used to make to Louis in their plot to escape from prison, and remember the above song in particular. As recognition of the two escaped convicts closes in on them, they prefer the freedom of being tramps to the prison of being in prison or a part of the prison which is society.
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