The Battle of Algiers

The Battle of Algiers 1 VILLA HEADQUARTERS. INSIDE. NIGHT. Inside a three-story villa, just built, with whitewashed walls. An elevator shaft is empty, the large cables dangle. On every landing two apartments. The front doors are wide open. Whitewash on the floor of the halls, swirls of whitewash on the windowpanes, naked light bulbs hung from electric wires. The rooms contain hardly any furnishings. The kitchens are still without sinks and stoves. An agitated bustle, a rhythm of efficiency. Paratroopers go up and down the stairs, pass along the halls, enter and leave the rooms. The sounds in the background are indecipherable. SHOUTED ORDERS, CRIES, HOWLS. SHOUTS, HALF-SPOKEN REMARKS, LAUGHS. SOMEWHERE A GRAMOPHONE IS PLAYING AT FULL BLAST. The scene is tense. No pauses. When the paras are tired, they move to another room. They sit down, stretch out on the floor, drink coffee or beer, and smoke cigarettes while awaiting the next shift. Suddenly, the rhythm of this routine, the timing of these images is upset. A para rushes down the stairs, and asks cheerfully while running: MARC The colonel. Where's the colonel? PARAS Why? What's happening? MARC We know where Ali la Pointe is. One of them "spoke" ... His voice echoes through the corridors, on the landings, from one floor to another. The excitement is contagious. Many crowd around the door of the kitchen. The Algerian who has "spoken" is there. He is young with a thin face and feverish eyes.