The Girl Who Cried Pearls (2025) Movie Script
1
(Birds chirping)
(Siren wailing in distance)
(Clock ticking)
(Door opening)
(Horns honking in distance)
- Hmm?
Well, well...
Who's that hiding there?
Don't worry, I'm not
calling the gendarmes.
(Grunting)
Ah! That's interesting.
Of all the treasures
in this entire room,
can you guess which
is most precious?
- Mm-mmm.
- No?
Actually,
it's a very tiny object.
Fits right in the palm
of your hand.
It would seem someone
has discovered my secret.
- What secret, Grandpa?
- Oh, my dear.
It's a very old story
going way,
way back in time...
to when I was a boy
in Montreal, where I was born.
(Dogs growling)
By day, I prowled the docks,
waiting for a box to drop.
Then we'd steal what we could
till the boom
of the foreman's rifle
would scatter us like flies.
In the summer,
I slept in the streets.
And when it got cold,
I'd find an abandoned apartment
next to where
someone already lived.
That way, if you slept on
the other side of their kitchen,
you might feel
the heat from their stove.
(Object clattering in distance,
muffled voices)
In the apartment across from me
lived a family.
The woman was always in a rage.
Her husband was a sickly fellow
with a daughter
from his first wife
who died in childbirth.
- You spied on them?
- Well, we didn't have
television back then.
Should I stop?
- No, no.
What happened next?
- I'm afraid
it's not a happy story.
Every day, she'd yell:
"You and your father
are good for nothing.
I should throw you
into the streets."
(Muffled voices)
Her father did
what he could to comfort her.
"We must endure," he'd say.
"Our reward
is in the next life."
That night,
the night everything changed...
I witnessed something
extraordinary, magical.
(Weeping)
I watched over her
the entire night.
I wanted to take her away
from that dreadful place.
Then, before anyone was awake,
she cleaned the floor
as though nothing had happened.
It was like she was ashamed.
Maybe.
Maybe I could reach them.
They glowed, perfect and round.
They tasted...
like salt...
like tears.
- So you stole
the girl's pearls?
- Don't judge, my love.
Remember, I was just a child.
- What did you do with them?
- What I tried to do
with anything I found.
There was a man
in the neighbourhood
who was known
to give you a few cents
if you brought him
something of value.
When I appeared with a pearl,
he was sceptical.
It was not the largest
he'd seen,
but the colour, the lustre,
the luminescence...
"Where did you steal it,
you little rat?" he asked me.
"I didn't steal it," I said.
I told him the whole story.
He didn't believe a word of it.
I pulled out the second pearl.
"I'm not lying," I said.
I could see the wheels turning.
"A matching pair. Hmm...
Very, very rare."
"Are you going to
buy them or not?" I asked.
"Easy now. Silence!
I need to get these checked."
"What does that mean?"
"It means get out!
"Come back tomorrow.
"Or maybe you'd prefer
we went to the cops
"with your little fairy tale.
Out!"
There was a specialist
in the old port,
a jeweller famed
for his integrity.
He examined
the pearls thoroughly,
amazed at their shimmer
and iridescence.
"The lustre, the shape,
the colour!
Perfection."
He speculated
as to their origin.
"From the South Seas?
"Perhaps...
"No.
"I've never seen
pearls like these.
"They smell like the sea,
"but they're not
from any mollusk.
Tell me,
where did you get them?"
"Oh, well,
it's a very strange story,"
said the pawnbroker.
"You won't believe me."
But the jeweller
didn't smile or scoff
when he heard the tale
of the thieving boy
and the girl who cried pearls.
Instead, his face grew serious.
"Hold on.
Hold on a moment,"
said the jeweller.
"Wait right there."
The jeweller was a deeply
learned and religious man
with a collection
of ancient books
that would be the envy
of any museum.
"After Adam and Eve were
banished from the garden,"
he said,
"Adam shed so many tears
"that birds and beasts alike
came to drink from them,
and the tears of Eve
turned into pearls."
"But that's--that's
a Sunday school story,"
said the pawnbroker.
"You believe in this nonsense?"
"With God, who's to say
what's possible,"
said the jeweller.
"I put my faith in money.
Question is,
what are they worth?"
"Pearls of sorrow?
They're priceless,"
said the jeweller.
"But I can offer you this.
Share it with the young girl,
or may God help you."
"I'm not running at charity,"
said the pawnbroker.
"I know your type.
"If you say it's worth one,
then I know it's worth two.
Good day to you, sir."
"We have a deal,"
said the pawnbroker.
"They're not worth much.
I'll give you a dollar apiece."
I'd never seen so much money.
"Can you bring more tomorrow?"
he asked.
I promised I could.
But instead, I bought an
enormous box of chocolates.
it was the first time
I'd seen her smile,
maybe the first time
she ever had.
That night, she did not cry
and there were no pearls.
The next morning, the pawnbroker
was prepared to be generous,
but I refused the money.
"Because I love her," I said.
"I don't want her to be sad."
"What?
"You idiot! You fool!
"Life gives you one shot,
just one!
"You don't marry
the first girl you see.
"She'll bleed you dry
like a vampire to the bones!
You have a choice," he said.
"Either she cries,
and you get rich,
or she smiles and you stay
in your hole forever!"
The girl waited
at the window all day,
as if she thought some prince
would come knocking
at any moment.
I was scared.
The pawnbroker had planted
a worm of doubt in me.
It was just as he said.
I was nothing.
(Bell tolling in distance)
She did not cry that night...
or the next, or the next.
But on the seventh night...
(Girl crying)
It felt like my soul
had split from my body
and was floating
farther and farther away.
"Bravo, bravo,"
said the pawnbroker.
This calls
for something special."
"No. No, it's not enough.
I broke her heart," I said.
"Yes, OK.
"But she's not dead.
"Here.
It's ten times more
than the last time."
Enough to change my life.
"Well done, my boy.
"A man must
look after himself alone.
"You won't regret it.
"You did what had to be done.
"We'll make some good deals,
you and I.
We're cut from the same cloth."
I lived like a king that day.
I bought fancy new clothes
and a third-class ticket
to Paris on a steamliner.
But as I approached her house
for that last time...
(Girl crying)
The next day,
everything was silent.
They had packed up
and disappeared.
She was gone.
What could I do now?
I had one thought.
I could hear his heart
beating in his chest.
"Whoa, kid!
What did you do?"
I got down to business.
In return for the pearls,
I demanded he fill a shoebox
with $100 bills.
Then we would trade box for box.
Cash, not trinkets.
"Yes. Uh, let me see
what I can do.
"I can give you that. Yes."
But of course, the store
was nothing but junk.
Even his gold was fake.
He was getting desperate.
"We could be partners.
You and me, 50-50."
"You can't pay?
"After what
I've put myself through?
"That box better be full
when I come back,
or I'll sell these
somewhere else."
"Wait, wait," he said.
"Please come back
before I close.
I'll give you
everything you want."
"I need money quickly,
you understand,"
said the pawnbroker.
"The building's
in good condition.
You won't regret it."
The jeweller wondered at
the endless greed of men
and the mysterious workings
of the divine.
(Man shouting in distance)
The jeweller was astonished.
It was identical to the pearl
the pawnbroker had brought him.
And there were
thousands of them.
"Monsieur,"
he called to the foreman.
"Monsieur, over here!
Do you know what this is?"
"These?
"Oh, it's the newest thing.
"It's from Japan.
It's called plastic."
Plastic.
In truth, as greedy
as the pawnbroker was,
he was just as lonely as I.
And that was how I tricked him.
I kept one as a souvenir.
I prayed I'd never
see him again.
And I never did.
- Hang on, hang on, hang on.
You made it all up?
That's your big secret?
- It's always the story that
gives something its value.
Only the story,
never the object.
And personally,
I still find it beautiful.
- But the girl,
did she even exist?
Closed Captions: MELS
(Birds chirping)
(Siren wailing in distance)
(Clock ticking)
(Door opening)
(Horns honking in distance)
- Hmm?
Well, well...
Who's that hiding there?
Don't worry, I'm not
calling the gendarmes.
(Grunting)
Ah! That's interesting.
Of all the treasures
in this entire room,
can you guess which
is most precious?
- Mm-mmm.
- No?
Actually,
it's a very tiny object.
Fits right in the palm
of your hand.
It would seem someone
has discovered my secret.
- What secret, Grandpa?
- Oh, my dear.
It's a very old story
going way,
way back in time...
to when I was a boy
in Montreal, where I was born.
(Dogs growling)
By day, I prowled the docks,
waiting for a box to drop.
Then we'd steal what we could
till the boom
of the foreman's rifle
would scatter us like flies.
In the summer,
I slept in the streets.
And when it got cold,
I'd find an abandoned apartment
next to where
someone already lived.
That way, if you slept on
the other side of their kitchen,
you might feel
the heat from their stove.
(Object clattering in distance,
muffled voices)
In the apartment across from me
lived a family.
The woman was always in a rage.
Her husband was a sickly fellow
with a daughter
from his first wife
who died in childbirth.
- You spied on them?
- Well, we didn't have
television back then.
Should I stop?
- No, no.
What happened next?
- I'm afraid
it's not a happy story.
Every day, she'd yell:
"You and your father
are good for nothing.
I should throw you
into the streets."
(Muffled voices)
Her father did
what he could to comfort her.
"We must endure," he'd say.
"Our reward
is in the next life."
That night,
the night everything changed...
I witnessed something
extraordinary, magical.
(Weeping)
I watched over her
the entire night.
I wanted to take her away
from that dreadful place.
Then, before anyone was awake,
she cleaned the floor
as though nothing had happened.
It was like she was ashamed.
Maybe.
Maybe I could reach them.
They glowed, perfect and round.
They tasted...
like salt...
like tears.
- So you stole
the girl's pearls?
- Don't judge, my love.
Remember, I was just a child.
- What did you do with them?
- What I tried to do
with anything I found.
There was a man
in the neighbourhood
who was known
to give you a few cents
if you brought him
something of value.
When I appeared with a pearl,
he was sceptical.
It was not the largest
he'd seen,
but the colour, the lustre,
the luminescence...
"Where did you steal it,
you little rat?" he asked me.
"I didn't steal it," I said.
I told him the whole story.
He didn't believe a word of it.
I pulled out the second pearl.
"I'm not lying," I said.
I could see the wheels turning.
"A matching pair. Hmm...
Very, very rare."
"Are you going to
buy them or not?" I asked.
"Easy now. Silence!
I need to get these checked."
"What does that mean?"
"It means get out!
"Come back tomorrow.
"Or maybe you'd prefer
we went to the cops
"with your little fairy tale.
Out!"
There was a specialist
in the old port,
a jeweller famed
for his integrity.
He examined
the pearls thoroughly,
amazed at their shimmer
and iridescence.
"The lustre, the shape,
the colour!
Perfection."
He speculated
as to their origin.
"From the South Seas?
"Perhaps...
"No.
"I've never seen
pearls like these.
"They smell like the sea,
"but they're not
from any mollusk.
Tell me,
where did you get them?"
"Oh, well,
it's a very strange story,"
said the pawnbroker.
"You won't believe me."
But the jeweller
didn't smile or scoff
when he heard the tale
of the thieving boy
and the girl who cried pearls.
Instead, his face grew serious.
"Hold on.
Hold on a moment,"
said the jeweller.
"Wait right there."
The jeweller was a deeply
learned and religious man
with a collection
of ancient books
that would be the envy
of any museum.
"After Adam and Eve were
banished from the garden,"
he said,
"Adam shed so many tears
"that birds and beasts alike
came to drink from them,
and the tears of Eve
turned into pearls."
"But that's--that's
a Sunday school story,"
said the pawnbroker.
"You believe in this nonsense?"
"With God, who's to say
what's possible,"
said the jeweller.
"I put my faith in money.
Question is,
what are they worth?"
"Pearls of sorrow?
They're priceless,"
said the jeweller.
"But I can offer you this.
Share it with the young girl,
or may God help you."
"I'm not running at charity,"
said the pawnbroker.
"I know your type.
"If you say it's worth one,
then I know it's worth two.
Good day to you, sir."
"We have a deal,"
said the pawnbroker.
"They're not worth much.
I'll give you a dollar apiece."
I'd never seen so much money.
"Can you bring more tomorrow?"
he asked.
I promised I could.
But instead, I bought an
enormous box of chocolates.
it was the first time
I'd seen her smile,
maybe the first time
she ever had.
That night, she did not cry
and there were no pearls.
The next morning, the pawnbroker
was prepared to be generous,
but I refused the money.
"Because I love her," I said.
"I don't want her to be sad."
"What?
"You idiot! You fool!
"Life gives you one shot,
just one!
"You don't marry
the first girl you see.
"She'll bleed you dry
like a vampire to the bones!
You have a choice," he said.
"Either she cries,
and you get rich,
or she smiles and you stay
in your hole forever!"
The girl waited
at the window all day,
as if she thought some prince
would come knocking
at any moment.
I was scared.
The pawnbroker had planted
a worm of doubt in me.
It was just as he said.
I was nothing.
(Bell tolling in distance)
She did not cry that night...
or the next, or the next.
But on the seventh night...
(Girl crying)
It felt like my soul
had split from my body
and was floating
farther and farther away.
"Bravo, bravo,"
said the pawnbroker.
This calls
for something special."
"No. No, it's not enough.
I broke her heart," I said.
"Yes, OK.
"But she's not dead.
"Here.
It's ten times more
than the last time."
Enough to change my life.
"Well done, my boy.
"A man must
look after himself alone.
"You won't regret it.
"You did what had to be done.
"We'll make some good deals,
you and I.
We're cut from the same cloth."
I lived like a king that day.
I bought fancy new clothes
and a third-class ticket
to Paris on a steamliner.
But as I approached her house
for that last time...
(Girl crying)
The next day,
everything was silent.
They had packed up
and disappeared.
She was gone.
What could I do now?
I had one thought.
I could hear his heart
beating in his chest.
"Whoa, kid!
What did you do?"
I got down to business.
In return for the pearls,
I demanded he fill a shoebox
with $100 bills.
Then we would trade box for box.
Cash, not trinkets.
"Yes. Uh, let me see
what I can do.
"I can give you that. Yes."
But of course, the store
was nothing but junk.
Even his gold was fake.
He was getting desperate.
"We could be partners.
You and me, 50-50."
"You can't pay?
"After what
I've put myself through?
"That box better be full
when I come back,
or I'll sell these
somewhere else."
"Wait, wait," he said.
"Please come back
before I close.
I'll give you
everything you want."
"I need money quickly,
you understand,"
said the pawnbroker.
"The building's
in good condition.
You won't regret it."
The jeweller wondered at
the endless greed of men
and the mysterious workings
of the divine.
(Man shouting in distance)
The jeweller was astonished.
It was identical to the pearl
the pawnbroker had brought him.
And there were
thousands of them.
"Monsieur,"
he called to the foreman.
"Monsieur, over here!
Do you know what this is?"
"These?
"Oh, it's the newest thing.
"It's from Japan.
It's called plastic."
Plastic.
In truth, as greedy
as the pawnbroker was,
he was just as lonely as I.
And that was how I tricked him.
I kept one as a souvenir.
I prayed I'd never
see him again.
And I never did.
- Hang on, hang on, hang on.
You made it all up?
That's your big secret?
- It's always the story that
gives something its value.
Only the story,
never the object.
And personally,
I still find it beautiful.
- But the girl,
did she even exist?
Closed Captions: MELS