You have to remember. The affair caused a stir. It was just petitions, support committees. The intellectuals were swooning. In Pierre Goldman, they had found a hero worthy of them. Sentenced to life in prison at first instance, the far-left activist was accused of having killed two pharmacists on Boulevard Richard-Lenoir, which he stubbornly denied. The four robberies, yes, but shooting these ladies, never. In 1975, a second trial opened in Amiens. The province would perhaps calm heated minds.

The character is troubled, tormented, dark. He sends a salty letter to his lawyer Georges Kiejman, whom he calls a “living room Jew.” This gives an idea. The singer’s half-brother, Jean-Jacques – we can see his silhouette in the room – is made of highly flammable material. In prison, he wrote a book that became a bestseller, Obscure Memories of a Polish Jew Born in France. This son of resistance fighters doesn’t hate flirting with gangsters, likes girls, alcohol, jazz, Cuban music. He only has the word “revolution” on his lips. This pleases Simone Signoret who can be seen – you have to have a keen eye – on a bench, with her sunglasses (Montand must not have been far away). Régis Debray, who is next to her, is more spoiled: the mustachioed guerrilla is allowed at least five seconds on the screen. Period perfume. The main thing is elsewhere. It is playing out in this courtroom.

Also read: Pierre Goldman, life and death of a hired robber

In his box, the defendant has a padlocked face. The inside is boiling. His speech is precise. The words are true. After the Walther P38, eloquence serves as his weapon. He is a being of darkness and fire. The court is transformed into an arena. The man loses his temper lyrically, throwing sudden tantrums. The police must control him. Rather unsympathetic, he is not devoid of a sulphurous charm. The provocation does not frighten him. The insults fly. The civil party, in the person of Nicolas Briançon (sweet and implacable), is jubilant.

The witnesses take the stand one after the other. The father’s story reaches heights of emotion, with this guttural voice. The West Indian companion is striking in her dignity. The police contradict themselves. They call themselves “racist!” » in the figure. The truth flies like a ping-pong ball. The epithet “ fascist” rings out repeatedly. Old tune from the seventies. These protagonists fight with punchy words. There is sports.

Goldman’s defense is simple: “ I am innocent because I am innocent. » Not easy to plead. This does not stop his supporters from chanting slogans in his favor. The prosecutor demands silence. Photos are passed from hand to hand. Feverish, sharp, Arieh Worthalter embodies this bundle of nerves with a depth, an intensity that recalls Gian Maria Volonte. Cunning, inhabited, he slips into the skin of this exalted outsider, this peerless dialectician who constantly tries to drown out the fish. Verb and verve take the place of style. Heavy suspicions weigh on him. The evidence is missing, unfortunately. Kiejman’s final tirade will carry the day. Acquitted. Goldman will be assassinated in 1979. We will never know by whom.

Cédric Kahn does not leave the courtroom, does not stand with his feet to the wall with his camera. He frames tightly, scrutinizes the faces. The film is sober, dry, rough like sandpaper. Justice remains an invention of men. The verdict leaves one wondering. Arthur Harari plays Kiejman to perfection. Except for one detail: the lawyer was already bald then. This is the only reproach to be made to this otherwise flawless Pierre Goldman.

“The Goldman Trial”, historical film by Cédric Kahn. With Arieh Worthalter, Arthur Harari, Stéphan Guérin-Tillié, Nicolas Briançon. Duration: 1 hour 55 minutes.

Le Figaro’s opinion: 3/4.