In your face, Captain Armorica!
Metadata, haven't we walked enough tonight?
Just one last attraction to check, Potus.
Rostra coasters aren't my thing.
All that wind irritates my sinuses.
I actually prefer coconut shy, hook-a-duck…
Who cares? Come on.
Oh no, not water. We'll end up soaking wet.
It's a Roman world Not a Gallic one
Clap your hands And respect our laws
It's a Roman world Not an Egyptian one
Nor Greek or African The world is really, really Roman
In this Roman world Where everything is good
A wonderful world Nothing compares to it
If you don't like it Then we will impose it
We'll throw to the lions Those who foment the rebellions
Bread and games That is our motto
What the crowd wants Is to have a good seat
It's a Roman world Where everything is good
I'll never get this out my head.
ASTERIX & OBELIX: THE BIG FIGHT
Hello, I'm Hannabarbera.
And I'm Blackangus.
Welcome to The Big Fight!
So, Blackangus, tell us about the opposing teams.
On one side, we have the Gaul, Vitalstatistix.
His strength rivals his courage.
Chief of the indomitable Gauls,
and he intends to stay that way until the sky falls on his head.
And maybe the sky's his toughest rival.
Yes, he'll be up against Cassius Ceramix, a Gallo-Roman.
That means a Gaul who acknowledges Rome's greatness.
Whether it's his speed, impact, strength,
or simply, his loyalty to Rome, he's our champion!
A showdown guaranteed to deliver action!
Absolutely, Hannabarbera.
We're hoping to see plenty of action, savagery, and cruelty.
Perfect for a family outing!
Romulus is waiting for his parents in the wolf pen.
I repeat, Romulus. Thank you.
At the end of this fight,
the losing chief and his tribe will surrender to the winner.
No, I'll never surrender to a Gallo-Roman!
We're not there yet.
We're not far off.
Our druid is still out of his mind.
With no magic potion, you can't beat Cassius Ceramix.
With a bit more training, I might--
Nonsense! Even I could do better.
Actually, why not?
Peddy, let's not go overboard.
- With no cane, he'll fall. - Is that so?
Ouch.
No, what I mean is, why not change chiefs?
What? Change chiefs?
Yes, appoint someone who's sure to win.
Obelix.
Are we allowed to?
- Where is it engraved? - Here.
- Article 49.3. - Engraved in tiny letters.
"If needed, the chief can be replaced
by any other member of the tribe."
Okay, so we can make Obelix chief.
And why not me?
Why not you what?
Why not make me chief?
Because Obelix is the strongest.
Aren't you listening?
Stronger than this, maybe?
Well, yeah.
Let the people decide.
My dear friends, elect a blacksmith as village chief,
to regain our strength and serenity!
Vote Fulliautomatix and forge your future!
Not if I can help it!
You see? Thank you.
This village needs someone with experience.
- No! - And as a former chief--
Here we go again with the same old people!
No, we Gauls want to see some fresh faces!
Then let's have a truly fresh face.
- Like mine. - I'm with you, sister.
No, yes, I agree, maybe, but not now.
Wait, hold on.
Being chief means having good people skills.
- No, because-- - And as a fishmonger--
Poisoner, more like!
If I'm elected, I'll move his shop to the next village.
- Will you? - Even further from the sea.
Wait, no, stop!
No, no, no!
It's almost time, Blackangus!
That's right.
The fight will be brutal,
and the crowd knows it.
That's for sure.
Blackangus, you've fought 95 battles.
I sure have.
Five Brennus Shields and 12 kills. What about it?
Quite a feat for a gladiator.
I always tell aspiring youngsters the toughest part is toughing it out.
- Quick question. - Yes?
How do you prepare for such a fight?
Well, you get focused, clear your mind,
and most importantly, stay calm.
Excuse me.
Sorry to bother you!
I'm looking for your chief.
Our chief?
For the fight.
Yes, The Big Fight, of course.
Just a sec.
Take your time. I'll be waiting by the chariot.
Very well, thanks.
- At the edge of the village. - Right.
Impedimenta's right.
After the fish shop, the blacksmith--
We know where you are.
Right behind.
As I was saying, Impedimenta's right.
Our future is at stake.
I'm willing to give up my role as chief to Obelix.
Where is he, anyway?
- No. - What do you mean, no?
No, Asterix is right.
I've messed up enough. You all deserve better.
No, come on, Obelix. It would be just for the fight.
No, no, no.
All I'm good for is delivering menhirs, and even that I manage to mess up.
You're being appointed, not asked. So now you're chief. End of story.
All right.
Fine.
I accept.
Thank you, Obelix.
And as chief,
I appoint Asterix as chief.
What the…?
I'm chief, I appoint you chief, now you're chief.
Okay, fine.
You know what? As chief, I reappoint you chief.
I reappoint you chief.
- I re-reappoint you. - No, you.
- You, chief! - You, chief!
You're not allowed!
I'm one chief ahead.
You, chief!
- Chief, chief, chief… - Chief, chief, chief…
Enough!
Grow up already!
- He started it. - Not true.
Obelix, you're our only hope.
You have to accept.
Would I be able to open a wild boar shop?
Of course, you'd be chief.
Will I have to make speeches?
Not if you don't want to.
And will Asterix stop--
Finishing your sentences? Yes.
All right then.
Long live Chief Obelix!
I'm his coach.
Long live Chief Obelix!
Geriatrix,
what do you think about my idea to open a wild boar shop?
It's good, yeah.
So you'd sell both menhirs and wild boar?
We are now just hourglasses,
or should I say, grains of sand away from the fight.
The stands are slowly filling up,
but it's still a bit patchy.
Hold on, Blackangus, let's see who's almost at the red mosaic.
Yes, it's him!
- Caesar! - Caesar!
What a handsome man.
- Caesar! - Over here, please!
Look here, please.
- Ah, yes. - That's it, awesome!
He's really working those laurels. How fabulous!
Not to bow down or anything, but he is extremely sculpturogenic.
You are kind of bowing though.
Okay, fine, you got me.
This way!
Thank you, that's enough. Move along.
Last one!
No, we're done. Caesar, come along.
We didn't get enough time.
I can't work like this.
- Look. Over there. - Who is it?
- A celebrity? - Cleopatra!
Yes, it's her!
- Cleopatra! - Over here!
- Look this way, please! - Cleopatra!
Face forward too!
Not just to the side, please.
This way, please.
The referee Twinpix is waiting for you inside.
For the weigh-in.
Go ahead and step on the scales.
Category: heavyweight.
Really? And without Dogmatix?
Look, Hannabarbera, the Gauls have arrived for the funfair,
and if I may, their worst nightmare.
That's a good one.
Here's your wooly candy, kiddo.
Full of sugar. It's good for children.
Come on, let's get bumping in the bumper chariots!
Cassius Ceramix's victory would mark the total capture of Gaul.
Absolutely.
So we can expect a brutal showdown.
The sweet smell of success.
Well, I can't smell anything.
I lost my sense of smell after that trident to the nose.
Anyway, I digress.
Prophetic Poultry! Get your Prophetic Poultry here!
Yesterday's animals, tomorrow's news!
With this week's chick-sized real estate special:
"Should you buy in Pompeii?"
Well, obviously, yes.
If I could afford it.
A little hut below the volcano, and you'd never see me again.
A sound investment.
I could be wrong, but I doubt it.
These seats couldn't be more uncomfortable.
Worst birthday ever.
Pompey wouldn't do this to his mom.
What's the difference between Gallic men and women?
Mustache length.
Next on the agenda,
after the loser hands over the shield,
we thought we'd dine in the Gallic village.
My birthday dinner with the Gauls. A dream come true.
Yes, we've planned a Gallo-Roman menu.
A fusion thing.
Fusion? Mixing great food with terrible food?
We'll talk about that later.
Wait, how about this one? A wild boar in a toga walks into--
Fastanfurius! Come here.
Tell you later.
Yes, everything's ready, O Caesar.
Good.
Little Anonymus, your parents are waiting by the bumper chariots.
- I repeat, little Anonymus. - Hang on.
Hold still while I finish my caricature.
There you go.
He sure didn't hold back.
Excuse me, O Caesar.
Would you mind if we took a quick mosaic?
Not at all. Go ahead.
People must bug you all the time.
You know, it's all the rage.
It's by two brothers who took over their dad's estate.
Very woody, fruity wine. I'll give you a taste.
Excuse me. Metadata, a small change.
I wrote it down.
Hints of chestnut, sour and black cherry.
Vitalstatistix has been replaced
by their new chief, someone named Obelix.
Something less tannic.
Oh no, not Obelix!
Or is that "Obel-9"?
I'm not sure if it's "ix" or 1 and 10, making 9.
So what?
Obelix fell into the magic potion when he was a little boy.
His strength is permanent!
No. We're done for. Not Obelix.
Or Obe-59.
Since L is 50.
I don't know.
Keep an eye on them.
Chief.
Well, you'll be full of energy now.
Chief, let me help you.
A snack for Obelix before the meal… no, fight.
I can't wait to get back to normal life.
I'm actually starting to like this new life.
- These Greek meatballs are good. - What?
There are veggies in them, but they're good.
No, what do you like about this new life?
I love not being chief.
Being chief is a lot of weight on your shoulders.
My bearers always say so.
I don't know, I feel lighter.
More free time, I sleep better at night.
But it's only been since this morning.
Long enough to think Obelix should stay chief even after the fight.
What? No, wait. You can't be serious.
Oh, serious all right.
Using him as a fake chief to fight, fine.
But he's not fit to run a village.
- I don't know. - Well, I do.
And I like his wild boar shop idea. Think about it at least. Let's go.
It's ridiculous.
- See you later! - No, Chief…
Think about it.
So I'm not fit to rule?
I didn't exactly say that.
You said exactly that.
- And that I'm a fake chief. - Yes, no, yes…
- I said-- - Fake chief.
Okay, fine, I said "fake chief."
But you don't expect to stay chief forever, right?
Why not for a while?
For plenty of reasons.
Does it bother you that I'm calling the shots for once?
With menhirs, kind of.
That's a low blow. Almost as low as you.
The rest of my tribe support me.
Your tribe?
Well, forgive me for offending you, O Great Chief Obelix.
If you don't like it, you know where the gates are.
Wait, do you want me to leave?
You're banishing me from your village?
You know what? Apothika was right.
You're speaking for me yet again.
Well, if you've got something to say, say it.
You're banished!
Your first big decision?
Please return to the arena.
The fight is about to start.
Thank you.
Living in Armorica
- You like it, Mom? - No.
I'm still waiting for my bread. Hello? Where's my bread?
- I'm chief. - No, I am.
- No, I'm chief. - No, I am.
Look, kids, a real-life Gaul!
They're a dying breed.
I'm chief!
- How about we both be chiefs? - Yeah.
- You're the best. - You too.
- You more. - No, you.
That's what friends are for, right?
Hold it!
You're good.
Panoramix!
Apothika!
Hello!
Hello again!
Go ahead, try your luck.
Knock one down, and you win a figurine.
Hurray!
Well, you won.
Wait. Vitalstatistix has been replaced
by their new chief, Obelix.
What? Give me that.
Oh, wait, I can't read.
There goes the buccina. And we're off, kids.
Let the show begin!
Amazing!
You know, that still gives me goosebumps.
Pompey's mom got the Venice lights for her birthday,
and all I get is a measly spark.
Sorry?
We didn't catch that.
Oh, my bad.
In the left corner, in a green skirt and feathered helmet,
the pilum of Linoleum, stronger than the Forum,
smoother than marble, the most Gallic of Romans,
the most Roman of Gauls…
Cassius Ceramix!
Now that, we understood.
And in the right corner,
with his blue and white pants, and red braids…
It's your turn now, champion.
The Celtic cask, the menhir from Armorica,
Obelix!
Obelix?
Don't forget. Tire him out.
Think about your footwork.
Watch out for his right--
I'll just slap him.
That'll work too.
I know him. He's hit me loads of times.
Obelix!
Gentlemen, come to the center.
Let me remind you of the rules.
Feet, fists, neck, carpals, metacarpals,
humerus, ankles, "what's up?", knees, head…
Anything goes.
As in anything anything?
This fight will last until defeat or surrender.
Defeat or surrender?
Alas, back in my day, it was to the death.
Times change.
I know, we aren't even allowed animal fights now.
Lion vs. elephant, banned.
It was cruel for the animals.
What? Giving them slaves to eat was cruel?
What is this world coming to?
We're becoming more humane.
But at what cost? Being less cruel?
All right, well, hail Caesar.
The one who's about to die salutes you.
So, yeah, hail.
Your turn, Obelix.
For what?
To give your speech. Let's hear it.
Obelix!
A speech?
Asterix…
This menhir…
Oh no, Obelix.
That's it? Okay, then.
Gentlemen,
make it a good fight,
and when the buccina blows, start fighting!
One.
Two.
He didn't lay a finger on him.
Not a punch, no bite, nothing!
I'm only 27, and I've never seen this!
Four.
Wake up!
Get back up!
Five.
Six.
Seven.
This is ridiculous.
- I can't believe my eye. - Eight.
Nine.
Obelix!
And ten!
It's all over!
I won?
Hail Caesar!
ASTERIX & OBELIX: THE BIG FIGHT
Subtitle translation by: James Preston