Before the Revolution (1964) - full transcript

The study of a youth on the edge of adulthood and his aunt, ten years older. Fabrizio is passionate, idealistic, influenced by Cesare, a teacher and Marxist, engaged to the lovely but bourgeois Clelia, and stung by the drowning of his mercurial friend Agostino, a possible suicide. Gina is herself a bundle of nervous energy, alternately sweet, seductive, poetic, distracted, and unhinged. They begin a love affair after Agostino's funeral, then Gina confuses Fabrizio by sleeping with a stranger. Their visits to Cesare and then to Puck, one of Gina's older friends, a landowner losing his land, dramatize contrasting images of Italy's future. Their own futures are bleak.

Many things had to happen.

I had to suffer.

You had to suffer so much.

I existed because you existed.

Now that I am at peace,
tied to my roots,

I feel I no longer exist.

BEFORE THE REVOLUTION

"Those who have not lived the years
before the revolution...

cannot understand the
sweetness of life."
-Talleyrand

A Sunday in April, 1962.
Just before Easter in Parma.

And yet I came to you, the Church.



Pascal and the Greek Cantos
I held tightly in my hand.

"With new dreams
the Resistance brushed away

the dream of the regions
federated in Christ

and its burning sweet nightingale.

Damn those who do not know

that this Christian faith
is bourgeois,

in its every privilege,

every surrender, every subjugation.

That sin is nothing more

than the crime of
disturbing daily certainties,

hated for fear and aridity.

That the Church

is the ruthless heart of the State."

As if in a dream I find myself
before the city's gates,



the bastions, the toll gates,

the bell towers like minarets,

domes like hills of stone,

the grey roofs, the open terraces,

and below

the streets, neighborhoods,
the squares,

the Square,

and through the middle
the river, the Parma,

which divides the two cities,
the rich from the poor.

And again the Square,

so much in the city's center,
and yet so close to the fields,

that on some nights
you can smell the hay.

The square, which feels like
a walled arena when you're inside.

There, I move amid figures
who are out of step, remote.

Figures for whom only the
Church existed before,

in whom Catholicism has suffocated
all desire for freedom.

These are my equals,
the bourgeois of Parma,

those of the midday Mass.

I wonder if they were ever born,

if the present echoes inside them,

as it does in me
and cannot be consumed.

Clelia.

We had always gone steady,

we were meant for each other.

But, Clelia is the city.

Clelia is that part of the city
which I have rejected.

Clelia is that sweetness of life
which I do not want to accept.

Fabrizio!

I found her,
she's here with her mother.

That's why, for a desperate
and final act of love...

I searched all the churches,
looking for Clelia.

I found her and I wanted
to look at her one more time.

What time is it?

Three o'clock.

You must get a Party card.

Because...

it can come in handy for everything.
Politics, even poetry.

Then whatever you do or say
has a meaning.

If you make a mistake, then
your mistake has a meaning.

Before I was in constant anguish.

A kind of guilt feeling.

Cesare helped me overcome this
cowardice. I want to help you.

Don't leave home only to go back.

It will only make things worse. You
hear me? Cesare's waiting. Bye.

Agostino!

Go to the movies.
They're showing "Red River"!

- Don't miss it! Bye.
- Bye.

People who run away
from home make me laugh.

The ones who want to escape.

Why?

Because it's childish.
What you're doing is too easy.

You reject yourself,
complain, run away.

You have to struggle from within.

They want to gag you and you run.
But there's another way!

Which way?

I just can't do it.

For me, leaving home
is a lot already.

And don't laugh at me!

If you think your father is a thief,
an opportunist, a hypocrite...

- That your mother is stupid...
- I never said that!

I get it all. My father may
even be a thief and...

my mother stupid, poor woman...

so dumb that she can't understand
anything or anybody.

But you, just shut up,
understand, shut up!

What right do you have
to judge others?

And you, what would you do?

What do you think you're doing?

The revolution?

Stay there. That was for my father!

And that was for my mother.

And that was for me!

Augustino! Why? What's up?

Ah, that wine is good!

Come on, let's go to the movies
and see "Red River".

No, you have to go see Cesare.

Go! You can't be late!

Go! He's waiting for you. Go! Go!

Shit... shit... shit...

You look well.

So do you.

I like your hair this way.

- Look who's here!
- Domenico, hi.

Welcome. How are you?

Just fine.

- Did you have a nice trip?
- Yes, yes.

How's the weather in Milan?

Antonio!

He fell asleep doing his homework.

- Hi, Gina.
- Frabrizio.

- How are you?
- Fine.

I have to go out,
I've got an appointment.

With your comrades!

Comrades and cake, too!

Yes, that's right!

See you tomorrow. Good evening.

Don't be late!

Right, bye!

That's useless. It won't fit.
It won't fit.

You, take it home.

We've got to go. Sorry.

- Do you know who drowned?
- Bertoli's son.

Did you see it?

Does it seem right?

He must have said something
to someone!

Enore! Come here!

- Who are you calling?
- My older brother.

Wilhelm! I found a job.

Where?

Down there, as a bricklayer.

I'm soaked.

- Were you here before, too?
- Yeah, I was.

- Then you saw everything.
- Yeah, I saw it all.

There, where the water's deep.

We were here talking.

He was standing where you are.

He asked me if the water's cold.

I told him it is at first, then
you get used to it.

- Are you a relative?
- No, a friend.

He said he just ate.

I told him it's okay just after.
It's later that's bad.

Coming!

These kids always swim
after eating.

Nothing's ever happened.

It seems that gentlemen
are more delicate.

He stood there in his underware...

and I laughed because he said
his feet were freezing.

He went over there, by the pylon.

Then he spoke to you...

What did he tell you?

He said,"This is my first
swim of the year."

- What's your name?
- Wilhelm.

Enore? How old are you?

Seventeen.

- Where do you live?
- At the shacks.

Agostino was blond,
with tousled hair.

It didn't look like hair.

It seemed more like
the feathers of a canary.

He had a little blond goatee
and fine features.

Like a Norwegian,
but with the eyes of a madman.

Like one of those hitchhikers.

I'm still here, you know.

Agostino changes colleges
every year.

Sometimes twice a year
if he gets expelled.

His parents say
all boarding schools are the same.

They're all good, as long as
they're in Switzerland.

He was only twenty,
but he's a living legend.

People said all kinds of things
about him, he was like a myth.

Even Agostino believed in his myth.

Sometimes I used
Cesare's words, in vain...

in the hope that they were...

clearer than mine.

To think that not even I, with my
pretense of being his teacher,

had ever understood anything
about Agostino.

He kept running away so often.
Where did he go?

It was already a lot
if he got to Milan or Bologna.

When he came back
I lent him my books.

All wrong for him.

Poor guy!

How he would suffer...

if he saw all these people
who've come to see him dead.

These school acquaintances
dressed in black.

Let's go.

Come, Fabrizio.

No, no. I'm not coming.

Don't act this way!

Go. I'll stay with him.

What are you doing?

Nothing.

Looking for a way out of here
because you don't notice me.

What do you do all day in Milan?

Nothing.

I transend thoughts.

I never miss.

I play the triangle.

I take three baths a day.

I always cry.

I always laugh.

The last time we saw each other
was at another funeral.

We didn't talk. I left
without saying goodbye to you.

You helped me with my coat,
remember?

I've been in Milan all these years.
Where did you think I was?

Sometimes they talked about you.

You were small
and I was growing up.

I don't think I'll grow any more!

I don't like grown-ups, adults...

they're never attractive.

I don't even like myself.

Not even a bit.

Neither do you! You don't listen,
but you could at least look at me!

Can you ride a bike?

Of course! Very well.
I used to race!

- Did you ever run away from home?
- No need to.

It's enough to stay home
when the others go out.

And if the others stay home...

then one has to run away!

I was famous for such things.

But they no longer make an impression.
Everyone is used to them.

I'm sorry.

"Agostino was blond.

His hair was like
the feathers of a canary."

Is that what you said?

I'd like someone to talk about me
like you talk about him.

But that will never happen.

So I do it myself.

Sorry.

These condolences take so long.

What do they say?
The same old stock phrases!

Why don't you like yourself?

- Why don't you like adults?
- Who told you that?

I like them a lot.

Tall, blond...

It's not true that
I can ride a bike.

I fall off!

Why are you so quiet?
Talk to me!

Don't look at me like that, Fabrizio.

It's useless. What can I do?

I wanted to make you laugh!

Stop thinking about it.
Don't you understand?

If I tell you something,
it's because I know...

Even at the funeral of my father...

of your grandfather.

I had often dreamed of his death.

In the dream I died, too.

But, I imagined it
in a different way.

Because reality...

is much worse.

One thinks about it...

prepares for it.

One prepares...

and then can't deal with it!

One can't take that kind of pain.

You'd have understood.

I didn't even dress in black.

I didn't think it mattered.

I was so close to him.

It's amazing how...

alive you feel close to death.

How you cannot share...

death with the dead.

Enter with them...

into their coffin.

You feel more alive than ever!

You need to move.

To talk.

To move your arms, your hands, your...

And I wanted to console you.

It's always wrong to go back.

Things are never the same.

Neither the people,
nor the places.

What long afternoons.

How long the afternoons
are in Parma.

Tonight I go back to Milan.

All I have left now is Cesare.

At least he's here.

I feel like a pigeon
in Piazza Grande.

The ones that peck
under Garibaldi's statue.

Cesare is my Garibaldi.
He even has a pedestal.

I'll be all alone if you leave.

But you won't.

Aunts should be respected
and left alone.

It's so hard to be understood.

You must stay for me, and for
yourself. Understand?

Alright.

I'll stay to learn Italian.

Then I'll go.

Forever.

But now you must
pretend you need me.

It's a lie...

but I'll do it.

What's up? Aren't you coming?

You go. I'II stay in the sun.

I told Cesare you'd come.

No! Don't make me wait an hour.

I'll just say hello.

I see you!

- It's no use hiding.
- I'm locked inside.

Come down right now or
I'll tell your parents.

How can you? Everyone's gone.

There's nobody here.

I know you're there.

Come out!

Why don't you answer?

Where did your boyfriend go?

Why don't you comb your hair?

You look like a little witch.

You have such lovely hair.

This is lovers lane.

I know a nice place.

There are a lot of trees.

Shall I show you?

Lucia weaves the linen,

turns the paper
and sees Harlequin.

Harlequin jumps and dances...

Will you teach me that?

How does it go?

It's Lucia who weaves the linen.

Turns the paper...

and sees Harlequin.

(Fabrizio)... What's your name?

Stop it!

Stop it!

Enough... Enough!... Enough.

Gina, what's wrong? Talk to me!

Gina.

I'm so sorry.

This has never happened before.

I don't feel well.

I'm so sorry.

First of all...

forgive me.

And please...

don't ask questions.

I'm too sensitive,
I'd feel as if I were in prison.

I don't know if you're just curious
or if it's something else.

Something more.

I saw that you noticed.

Your face suddenly clouded over...

then suddenly brightened up.

There is only one cure for my pain.

The others.

People... you.

The medicine for boredom
brought me all the way here.

From far away Milan, here.

Running parallel
with the villas rushing by.

Clouds chase other clouds.

You chase me chasing you.

My little nephew from Parma.

Without saying anything
I've told you everything.

Don't ask questions.

Don't ask questions...
Don't ask questions.

Oh, my necklace!

What happened?

Will it bring bad luck?

Tomorrow, I'll buy you a new one.

You even wanted to watch me
get dressed.

Put on my stockings.

And my panties.

How extraordinary, huh?

Did I disappoint you?
Tell the truth!

Don't be funny.

One can love those things...

that women usually hide, no?

Your mother is taller,
she's different.

Forget it. Gina!

She's made like me.

Jesus, it's raining hard!

It's your fault too,
you're a man now.

Now we're equal.

A rainy Easter... how boring!

When it rains at this hour
I start tossing in bed.

Why did you put your hand
over my mouth?

Did my moans upset you?

I didn't want them to hear us.

Who could hear us?

There. If you're quiet,
you can hear the women getting up.

- What women?
- The maids and grandmother!

Are you crazy?

- Where are we?
- In the back of the building.

It used to be a print shop,
but now it's empty.

I used to play here as a child,
alone.

I'm glad it happened here.
Are you sorry?

- No!
- Do you want to go home?

No!

Look!

Come and see.

Bodoni. That name used to make me
laugh when I was a kid.

It made me think
of Laurel and Hardy.

I imagined he was a fat man.

Mr. Bodoni.

On Easter morning,

the unleashed bells
flew through the city.

They were sound asleep.

They continued to sleep:

a real scandal because in the house

everyone was ready for Mass.

"Salan in prison confessed:

Everything is crumbeling around us!"

General Salan in handcuffs

was taken to prison. Suddenly..."

Where is my wife?

Where's your mother?

She must be resting.

The ravioli came out better
than at Christmas.

It must have been the filling.

One always eats too much in Parma.

First you eat and then
you talk about what you ate.

A double effort. Like eating twice.

Today, Easter Sunday...

many people in Parma
won't even leave the table

between lunch and dinner!

An eating marathon.

The farmers will be happy,
it's raining again.

They never get enough, right Mama?
Mama?... Mama.

She's out like a light!

I'm going to bed. Wake me at four.

Now we can dance.

- But I can't!
- Come on, let's dance!

How should I dance?
Like a dancing bear?

It's a camera obscura,
a trick with mirrors.

It's magic, but it's real.
Still, it's magic!

I know you're happy,
but it won't last.

Fabrizio, I know it won't last.

It's useless.

In the end you'II remember me
as if I were dead.

Then after a while...

you'll forget me completely.

You'll end up hating me.

Can I be blamed?

I never promised you anything
and you can't blame me!

I love you.

I love you even though
I'll never tell you.

You are a thousand...

ten thousand times...
better than me!

And I'm nothing.

Less than nothing.

I'll steal this trick that lets me
talk to you when you're not here.

Where are you?

Did you like the film?

Nice, wasn't it?

For cinema verite it wasn't bad.
And, in color.

Here on Sundays they came to see

the film about girls going to Mass.

Then there was the fair...

the acrobats, the dancing bears.

I wouldn't trade
this moment for any other.

Even if it's passing, I don't care.
I'll forgive it.

I'm not like you.

I'm not brave, I'm a coward.

You'll never guess what I'd like.

I'd like it...

if nothing were to move.

Everything still as in a painting.

With us inside, still as well.

Look.

No more May...

June, July...

August, September...

September! Who knows where
we'll be in autumn.

- I'm not coming!
- You are coming!

You must follow me everywhere.

What a surprise,
I didn't expect you today.

- Gina, this is Cesare.
- This is your aunt from Milan?

Yes, I'm the aunt from Milan.

The smoke, huh?

Yes. The smoke!

Franklin stoves are all like that.

- Are we just going to stand here?
- Excuse me!

Come in the dining room.

No! Better not,

it's in a terrible mess.

- Have a seat.
- Thank you.

I know the girl who lives opposite.

In the tower?
I know her, too. Evelina.

They rent it. They're poor.

She's a friend of mine, too.

- What's there to drink?
- I have some sweet white wine.

Or some Strega or Kummel.

No, it goes straight to my head.

- Have some wine.
- It's like water, real light.

You'll like it.

You know, Gina. When I'm here...

I feel like I'm in my own den.

Really?

You're the first person
I've brought here. It's a privilege.

- It doesn't work.
- You sure?

It's broken.

Watch.

You're stupid!

Radio destroyer! It's not yours!

What are you doing?

Certain people do things
out of passion.

His vocation is teaching.

But he understands that
only children can be taught.

"Our teacher has explained to us...

that the word 'freedom'
means justice and democracy.

On April 25th of last year
Fascism ended and it's..."

"The only duty we have
towards history...

is to rewrite it.

When we have fully understood
the scientific laws...

which govern life,

we will find that the only person
with more illusions than the dreamer

is the man of action.

But men are slaves of words.

They rage against materialism,

forgetting that there has been
no material improvement

which has not spiritualized
the world.

And few have been
the spiritual awakenings

which have not dissipated
the world's faculties

with sterile hopes."

"He also explained to us

that we have democracy
because partisans died

and it will be difficult because
democracy is like the fields...

which need to be
tended to every day.

Our teacher is from the city

but he makes us write
about the country."

"Essays

and Problems", both misspelt.

He was a nice kid, from Florence.

Intelligent, the one who
understood the most.

You know, I'm naive.

For 17 years I have insisted
on that essay on April 25th.

Italians have never been able
to understand these things.

Or rather, they can understand...

but they quickly forget.

Too quickly.

You were very young in '45.

Were you already teaching?

It was my first year
teaching school.

What a year '45! There was
so much confusion in my head.

You're only good at putting order
in other people's minds.

Order.

I wouldn't know what to do
with your order.

- You take the world as it comes.
- Life is not order.

It would be terrible if it were.

We must not... no, we cannot
accept it.

- We want to change it.
- What can you change?

You can't change a person.

Not even one.

That goes for me too,
because I'll never change.

You're out of step with history,

because history is going
in that direction.

History is time, isn't it?

Nun, bride, widow, old maid...

nun!

- I know time doesn't exist.
- Beautiful, that.

But it's nothing new.
You've read Proust and...

I know a story older than Proust.

Once upon a time there was
an old wiseman...

like you.

Who had a young disciple...
like him.

They wandered
through the countryside.

One day the old wiseman said
to the young man,

"I'm very thirsty. Would you
fetch me a glass of water?"

The young man said, "Yes, I will."

He went down the road
and came to a fountain.

Beyond the fountain
he saw a town...

a wonderful town...

which fascinated him...

In this town he met a girl,

mysterious, extraordinary...
like you.

He married her, had many children
and lived with her for 20 years.

Cheat, you already knew it!

After 20 years a terrible
plague broke out,

everyone died and only he survived.

By that time, he had grown old.

Desperate, he began wandering
through the country.

He walked a lot...

and arrived where
he had left the old wiseman.

And who did he see?

The old wiseman,
who was still sitting there.

And he said to him,

"It really took you a long time

to fetch a glass of water!

I've been waiting all afternoon!"

Time doesn't exist.

Understand?

For the disciple, a whole
lifetime had passed.

While the old man was still
waiting for his water.

Wisdom has never prevented people
from starving.

You're talking like a book again.

I thought you two always agreed.

Of course! We argue
because we agree.

I'd get bored.

Well, I've come to understand that
the only ones you can argue with...

are those who share your ideas.

I'm a chameleon. Other people's
ideas make me change color.

What do you suppose that means?

Maybe you are so sure of yourself...

that you can take everything in
without losing anything.

Fabrizio!

You're right.
I do speak like a book.

I have to speak like a book
to sound convincing.

But don't forget that
they're books you give me!

And I believe them.

Remember what Pavese said?
"Maturity is everything."

A few days ago, someone
came looking for me.

My neighbours told me.

About 10:30 in the morning,
I was at school.

A boy with a bicycle.
He didn't give his name.

- They said he was blond...
- A green bike?

I don't know,
I could ask the neighbours.

It was Agostino who came.

Agostino came to see me?

I had promised to bring him to you.

He was ready, anxious.

He always wanted me to tell him
about you and our discussions.

He was ready.

He thought he hated everyone,
instead he only hated himself.

It's why he killed himself.

Fabrizio! It was an accident.
You can't talk like that.

He lived alone.

He died alone.

The worst thing you can tell someone
is you don't believe their pain.

Hello?

Hello. Is that you?

Yes, it's me. Gina.

No, I swear I'm not in Milan.

I'm calling from Parma.

I got your letter. Yes, the weather's
very nice, we're all fine.

Stop the small talk!

Look... out the window.

It's already light.

It's almost 4 in the morning.

I'm in a room that's not mine.

Waiting for morning to come!

No, No. I'm not okay.

You know I can't stand
being in small rooms.

This room...

I don't know it!

It's so empty.

It scares me!

Nothing but four white walls.

In my house
near the bed, remember?

There's a lamp on all night.

There's no lamp here.

Just an enormous chandelier!

It's your fault, you made me leave.

You're the one who sent me here!

It's not true
that I can't live alone.

You had me under care,
we had to continue!

I could come to you every day.

But maybe you...

didn't want to see me anymore.

Nobody knows me here!

I was in bed by midnight
but instead of sleeping...

I started hearing
all the clocks in the city.

One, two, three o'clock...
because I'm always here, awake!

There are also some kids
who talk under my window.

They never go to sleep.

Yes, but who can hear me.

This room is at the other end
of this big old house.

I'm sorry, I must have
also woken your wife.

It's almost daylight.

I don't think I'II ever be able
to sleep in this house.

Listen!

Can you hear it?

A cart going by.

Of course,
I'm looking in the mirror.

A dishevelled monster.

I don't want to comb my hair.

I already told you.

If you could only see my face!

A bath? Now?

I don't feel like one.

You're saying that to get rid of me!

Alright. Okay.

Don't get angry.

Please... do you think
I can come back to Milan?

I'm opening the door.

Don't hang up!

You'll let me come back?
Can I come back to Milan?

Thank you.

Gina!

It's about time, dammit!

Where have you been?

- I've searched half of Parma.
- This is... what's your name, Carlo?

Luigi...

I went to Otello, to Alpi,
under the arcades...

everywhere.

WOMAN IS WOMAN

He was able to invent
a woman like that.

In 20 years Anna Karina will be
what Louise Brooks is for us today.

She will represent
an entire era, right?

That's the miracle
of cinema for me.

Nothing gives you
a better feeling of 1946...

than the Bogart Bacall duo
"The Big Sleep" by Hawks.

I'm boring you, right?

No, sorry. I was thinking.

In the cinema your mind
was also somewhere else.

I don't even remember
what film I saw.

I just went in, I'd been
wandering around for an hour.

I arrived at 6. It's 10 now...
I saw it twice.

- I can't stand some films.
- "Vertigo" 8 times.

"Journey to Italy" 15, and you live
without Hitchcock and Rossellini?

You're an addict!
Are you putting me on trial?

You say that Resnais and Godard
make entertaining films.

"Une Femme est une Femme"

is more "engage" than the films
of Lizzani and even Rosi.

You're crazy! Explain yourself.
Or are you joking with me?

Cinema is a question of style
and style is a moral issue.

You're not listening, what's up?

I'm in love.

Then it's a question of content.

And no longer of style.

It's never happened to me before.

I didn't know
what being involved means.

Tell me.

I'm out of whack.

Did you think love was a
superstructure? A woman's a woman.

Things happen in life which...

we don't understand at first, but
which are important and change us.

A tracking shot is style,
but style is a moral question.

I remember a tracking shot
by Nicholas Ray...

of 360 degrees, which is one
of the highest moral moments,

and thus "engage",
in the film history.

- A 360'degree tracking shot...
- You're a reactionary.

- 360 degrees of morality.
- Maybe I should laugh, but I can't.

I'm just a bore who rattles off
lists of films, and tonight...

you need to be alone. No friends.

- Maybe you're right. I'm off.
- Bye.

Fabrizio!...
Take my scarf.

- It's cold out.
- It doesn't matter.

- I live close by. I want you to take it.
- Thanks.

Remember, Fabrizio!

One can't live without Rossellini!

What are you doing here?

Who are you waiting for?

- Why are you still awake?
- Who are you? Hercules or Tarzan?

I wanted to come to your room.

To slap you around,
punch you in the face!

But now, I don't really
care anymore.

Me or someone else,
it's the same for you.

You can do what you want,
you're free.

You're free!
I want you to know that.

It's over.

It's finished.

No, no. I need to talk to you.

Come into my room, okay?

Why didn't you hit me
this afternoon?

The look you gave that poor guy.

Who knows what he thought.

He wanted my phone number.

I promised to go and see
a game with him on Sunday.

In Bologna.

Then I lost interest in giving him
my name and number.

So he felt cheated.

He got mad.

The things he said to me!

He said all those terrible things
just for a Sunday.

He almost hit me because
I wouldn't give him my number.

What do you think of that?

He was a respectable person.

A nice man, too. He said some
beautiful things to me.

You don't believe me?
Don't you believe it?

It's the truth.

You think I'm a liar!

Why did I go with him?

I needed to talk with someone,
right away.

I'm not even sure
what I'm saying anymore.

I'm such an asshole!

I talk about things
that don't exist.

The truth is...

he treated me like
men treat whores.

He was a moralist.

If he wanted to punish me
he was right.

Because I deserve it every day.

If there's a fire,
I think it's my fault.

If a war breaks out,
I think it's because of me.

If there's a storm, forget it.

If I run into the police
I tell them I'm innocent right off.

He wasn't extraordinary.

One never meets extraordinary men.

Besides, I hate men.

I hate them!

With their women.

Their children.

Their families.

I like you because
you're not a man yet.

"I write you to tell you that
I've loved her for some time now!

If she likes me, say so.
I can just see it.

To think that I'm here on holiday,

and if a storm breaks out and
falls down on her and hurts her,

just the thought makes me go cold
and I remain

affectionately yours, Massinelli."

As a boy, I used to charm the frogs.

Maybe that's even an insult.

"Go and charm the frogs!"

Friendly mosquitos, huh?

Maybe they recognize me.
These mosquitos are strange!

They don't bother me....

Dear!

My dear friend.

My Puck!

As a child I didn't love you
so much and yet you spoiled me.

Now it's me who loves you.

And you... I don't know.

I don't know anymore.

Little liar! You know I've
always loved you.

Let's put it to the test.

Look into my eyes.

What's the trouble, my dear?

When something was up, you were
always the first to understand.

My dear! Whatever you tell me is
strickly confidencial, dear friend.

I have a secret.

A big secret.

If you try to guess it...

we won't be friends anymore.

Instead, look at my secrets.

The river bank, the pond
and Padova, the painter...

the only ones
I can still talk to.

Down there the River Po,
trying to hide...

but you can always
feel its presence.

So many people in a single day.
I'm not used to it anymore.

Silly. I forgot to warn you.
I'm being followed by my nephew.

- Why did you come here?
- Let go of me.

Have you changed tastes?
You're fast!

I'm coming!

These frogs...
even some giant ones!

There are small frogs, but the ones
I like the most are...

the big ones!

It's so good to see you again,
so much time has passed.

You haven't changed. You only
look me up when you're in love.

- And in the wrong way, too.
- You're the same.

You knew it as soon as you saw me.

And it's all so wrong.

All I can do is run away.

I didn't know you had
a grown up nephew.

He's from Parma, right?

You can tell right away
by the shoes.

In Parma, one could always get
English shoes.

Even during the war,
we'd cross the Po to buy them.

At the time we thought it was
important to be anglophile.

What's his name?

Fabrizio!

This land. This is good land, right?

It's good, but it's all mortgaged.

By May 5th I have to find
the money for the bank.

It's the deadline.

How is that possible?
Even the Lombardo Pond?

Say goodbye. This time next year...

who knows who will own the pond.

Ever since my father died,
five years ago...

everything's fallen apart.

Had he foreseen such a disaster...

I'm sure he wouldn't have died.

Can you imagine me
without my free meal?

What can I do?

Go to work? I don't even know
the meaning of the word.

My folks said
I didn't need a degree...

because I had land
and land never betrays you.

So now I'm ignorant as a peasant!

I'd be ashamed to
go steal a salary.

Any job I did would be
like stealing.

- Sponging a meal.
- How have you eaten up to now?

False sincerity makes me laugh.

Gina, let it go.

It's easy to set your conscience
straight when you're broke.

Why didn't you do it...

when you had your free meal,
as you called it?

Fabrizio! You're so rude!

No, no! You're right, Fabrizio.

We can talk openly, now you've
staked your ground with me.

It's my fault. I've bored you
with an unimportant case.

It's not an unimportant case.

There are too many cases
like yours throughout Italy.

This is what you don't understand.

You don't understand what habit is.

The habit of one's own predicament.
That's why I'm not ashamed.

Habit justifies everything.

Fascism, Franco, racism...
You can get used to anything.

But you say,
"That's why I'm not ashamed."

You're stupid, conceited.

You talk, talk.

You think you know everything, but
you don't know anything or anybody.

Shut up, you can't talk.

No more river! Enough of the river!

One must forget the river.

They tell us to bid it farewell.
They order us to say goodbye to it.

They'll come here
with their machines.

They'll come with their dredgers.

There will be different men.

And the sound of the engines!

The poplars... the vines...

Who will make sure the poplars
will grow without freezing?

The weeds.

- Nothing will remain.
- The fish traps...

- There will be no more summer.
- The canals...

- There will be no more winter.
- The toads...

It's over for you, too!

Get out of the way, retreat!

Sink your boat!

I'm speaking for you, too.

We won't fish perch anymore.

We won't even fish for carp.

And the ducks won't fly overhead.

They won't be caught in
the sights of my rifle.

No more coots!

No more flocks of wild geese!

You see, my friends?

This is where life ends
and survival begins.

And so...

goodbye Lombardo pond.

Bye.

Goodbye, rifle.

Goodbye, river.

And goodbye... Puck.

What a pretty light.

We are all in it. Together.

At that moment I realized that
Puck had spoken for me, too.

I saw myself in him
years from now.

I had the feeling that
even for us...

children of the bourgeoisie...

there was no escape.

- Thanks for coming.
- Shall we call a taxi?

It's not important. I'd rather
walk, if you don't mind.

Have a good trip.

Why?

I'll come with you.

At the end of the summer,
every year at Ducale Park...

COMMUNIST FESTIVAL

I feel it's all wrong,
this way of having fun.

You've been going on
all afternoon, what is it?

I shouldn't have to tell you.

I thought we
spoke the same language...

that we wanted the same things.

To have fun, people want to see
the singers up close.

That's why it's all wrong.

To think I spent half the summer
at Party meetings.

Everything's going to hell here.

Hear about Marilyn? Poor thing.

- Who knows why she did it.
- What did she do?

- Didn't you see the papers?
- She killed herself with pills.

I don't believe it.
It must be a publicity stunt.

There was a picture!

She was gorgeous.

- I still don't believe it.
- It was even on the radio.

The People take what you give them.

It scares me.

- So long as we're the ones giving...
- The people accept things blindly.

And if we're wrong?

We could have been wrong all along.

In fact, you were wrong.

I don't mean human errors.

In 20 years, the People still
haven't forged a common conscience.

We have proof that
a People's conscience exists.

Very strong evidence!

I know what you mean, but the events
of July '60 are not enough for me.

One-day revolutions won't do.

Don't the struggles count,
the strikes, union disputes?

Strikes aren't enough for me.

Nor union activism.

Nor May Days with
their red flags.

Maybe in 1948.

Who is willing to strike today
for the liberation of Angola?

Name one person
who has fought in Algeria.

Who takes to the streets now if
they kill a black man in Alabama?

Even taking to the streets
isn't enough for me anymore.

I wanted a new man.

A world of siblings who are
fathers to their fathers.

You know.

The proletariat has ideals,
don't forget that.

The proletariat has only
one irrational ideal.

It's not their fault. You allowed
them to dream of bourgeois dignity

and now they want to
mix in with the bourgeois.

Dress like the bourgeois.

They want to understand
bourgeois entertainment.

Bourgeois books.

Workers want to improve
their economic condition.

That seems right to me.

Enore?
Where did you put the posters?

Back there.

Next to Castro.

What did the Party
do for Agostino?

And what did you do for him?

You were sleeping and
his death woke you up.

Why expect the Party to do
what you couldn't do?

Just because I couldn't do it.

You're on the outside and believe
you are more involved than most.

I know your sort...
Your problem is something else.

If you had more courage
you would talk about Gina.

Gina. Gina. You once lent me a book.

A phrase was underlined:

"Men make their history in an
environment which conditions them."

You explained it as, "Men act...

in an environment that already exists."

Men make their own history, not the
environment in which they live.

I am the negation of this theory.

We must open our eyes.

You wanted to change me
and I hoped you would.

Instead, I am a rock,
I will never change.

I wanted to fill Gina with vitality.

Instead, I filled her with anguish.

She once told me, somewhat ashamed...

that she had nervous fever.

I have a different fever.

A fever which makes me feel
nostalgic for the present.

While I live, it already feels like
the moments I'm living are far away.

So, I don't want to
change the present.

I take it as it comes,
but my bourgeois future...

lies in my bourgeois past.

For me ideology has been a holiday.

A vacation.

I thought I was living
the years of the revolution.

But instead, I was living
the years before the revolution.

Because it's always
before the revolution...

when you're like me.

Communists refuse to hide...

their opinions and intentions.

They openly declare

that their aims

can only be achieved

through a violent overthrow.

Only through the violent overthrow...

of all existing social order.

The ruling classes tremble
at the thought of...

a Communist revolution.

The proletariat has only
its chains to lose.

It has a world to gain.

Workers of the world, unite!

December 26, 1962
MACBETH
opening of the opera season
Regio Theatre

Are you coming to the wedding?

Why shouldn't I?

What do you think of
them getting married so soon?

They seem so young.

- What does Fabrizio think?
- He accepts everything lately.

He's changed so much.

At least let him get his degree.

He'll graduate, you'll see.

Where is she?

The sixth box second row.

It's their family box.

One... two... three...

She's beautiful.

Look, Luca.

You can't see Fabrizio.

He's hiding.

He's hiding behind her.

I'm so happy.

I was waiting for you.

And I was looking for you.

She looks like an ancient portrait.

Perfect for you.

Everyone will envy you.

I know you don't like her.

She won't be like you.

She won't understand a lot
of things. But she's good.

So simple.

She's not much, but just what
I want at the moment.

It's about to end.

We'd better get back.

This Macbeth is lovely.

I already saw it last year at the
Scala, but here it's different.

It must be this theatre. Maybe
here the people really believe it.

A few years ago the idea of
going to the opera made me laugh.

How boring Verdi is!

Our beloved Verdi!
I can't take him anymore!

After all, he's everything
we are not. I hate him!

I prefer Mozart.

Well, you've arrived.

Goodbye then.

Gina, it's better this way.

For you and for me.

There was nothing else to do.

You know how I am.

You understood me better
than anyone.

That's why you left, wasn't it?

It was right.

You decided for me, too.

I know how much I made you suffer.

Don't think I don't know.

How cold it is in here.

Gina, could you fall in love
with me now?

"Capitan Ahab,
I heard tell of Moby Dick.

Wasn't it Moby Dick who
took off your leg?"

"Who told you that?"
Ahab cried.

"Yes, Starbuck...

and I will hunt it down
beyond the Cape of Good Hope,

beyond Cape Horn,

beyond the great
Maelstrom of Norway,

beyond the fires of Hell,
before giving up.

And for this
you have signed on, sailors!

To hunt the White Whale
the world over,

in every part of the Earth,

until it spits black blood

and rolls over
with its fins in the air."