Blood Feud (1978) - full transcript
In pre-World War II Sicily, just as the fascists come to power, two men fall in love with the same woman. The changes in their country's politics ultimately take all three on a journey across the ocean to New York City.
(horse neighs)
- Angeluzzo Paterno,
get out of bed!
- [Angeluzzo] My god,
who's there?
- Vito Acicatena for you.
(gun fires)
(groans)
(screaming)
- Angelo.
Angelo.
(panting)
(motorcycle engine revs)
(screaming)
(dramatic music)
Angeluzzo Paterno, murdered
by persons unknown.
That's what the judges said.
Angelo Paterno was killed by
persons unknown, they said.
And yet, everybody here knew
that it was Vito Acicatena.
Vito Acicatena, he killed
him in front of my very eyes.
Any one of you could
have testified,
but you all kept quiet.
Your silence killed him.
Cowards, all of you.
You hear me?
You're the scum of the earth,
all of you.
My poor Angelo.
His death is on your conscience.
My poor child, who
was born dead.
Better to die than to set
his eyes upon such snakes
in this stinking town.
- [Policeman] That's
enough, signora Paterno.
That's enough now, understand?
- You're all guilty.
- All right, stop that.
Stop this nonsense, you're
disturbing the peace.
- But Angeluzzo's murder--
- Quiet.
- That doesn't disturb
the peace, huh?
- Be silent.
- Don't you touch me,
understand?
- [Policeman] Move along,
go home.
Move, move before I
put you inside.
- You rotten people.
- Out, out, go on.
- You make me sick.
You were born slaves
and you will die slaves.
But I won't, no, sir.
Go and tell Vito Acicatena
that he will face Concetta
Paterno in person.
If Vito Acicatena is not a
coward, he will have to face me!
What injustice, give him
to me, Concetta Paterno.
Tell that to Vito Acicatena.
(gentle guitar music)
(sobbing)
- Ah, beautiful, beautiful.
No wonder the Greek invaders
fell in love with Sicily
and made it their most
flourishing colony.
Beautiful and yet desperate.
Look, look there: child labor,
a curse in this country.
One of the many curses.
You'll never know the injustices
suffered by this dear
land of mine.
And my dear Sicilians,
reared ion pain and
endless privations.
But yet unpredictable,
an extravagant race.
Is that a woman in a coal cart?
A woman who carts coal,
who is she?
Slow down.
- [Spaventa] That's the widow
Paterno, the Neapolitan,
don't you remember?
- Stop.
Gimme my camera, hurry up.
- [Tutuzzo] Here, here.
(chuckles)
- [Spaventa] She looks
like a bandit, huh?
- Over here?
- Yeah, yeah, stop.
- [Spaventa] Look at the
way she drives a mule.
Like a man, look.
(opera music)
- Eh, this is Sicily.
- You didn't know
'cause it's 10 years that
you've been far away.
- [Spallone] What do you mean?
- She's the widow of
Angeluzzo Paterno.
She didn't think the
judges made a fair decision
at the trial.
- What trial?
- What trial?
You mean to say you don't know
how Angeluzzo
Paterno was killed?
- No.
Signora Paterno.
Look out.
(Concetta yelps)
Oh, excuse me.
Wait a moment, signora Paterno.
- [Concetta] What the
hell does he want?
- You need any help?
- [Concetta] No, what
do you want?
- I'd like to speak to
you about your husband.
- Hm, my husband.
My husband is right there,
huh, you see, go talk.
- I understand your
misgivings, you're right.
After what happened.
I am Rosario Maria Spallone.
Perhaps you've heard of me,
although I've been
away a long time.
I am a Socialist and a lawyer.
- Huh, better a plague.
- You are right.
You are right, but this is
a special case,
one that should be
brought to justice.
- Justice.
Big word.
- It's a word we must
believe in, signora.
Your husband
believed in justice.
Yes, he did.
Angelo Paterno was murdered
because he took part in
the fisherman's strike.
He refused to raise prices,
he defied the Baron and the
Baron wanted him to starve.
And I heard the witnesses at
the trial were intimidated
as usual.
And, excuse me,
I also know you lost your
baby that same night.
I'm terribly sorry.
Yet, I must ask you
about the facts.
- Hm, you hear him, Angelu?
He wants the facts.
Go ask those lying
bastards in town,
they'll give you the facts.
- But, signora, no, you
don't seem to understand.
I want a new trial.
- Yeah, and we want to
sell charcoal.
- But I am an enemy of
your own enemies.
So what better friend
could you have than I?
- Hm.
- Allow me to explain.
- [Concetta] Explain, explain.
- This trial, signora
Paterno, is important not.
- Well?
Oh.
- Excuse me.
I'm, I don't know if
you've understood what I,
in other words, I
was saying that
after being involved with
the party and the politics,
after so many years,
I feel the need to be
involved with, more closely,
with he reality of this
town of mine.
Anyway,
I took this photograph of
you the same day I arrived.
You seemed so beautiful, so
proud, midst the olive trees.
Please accept it.
Signora Paterno, it
could be a great trial.
- Go away, Mr. Socialist.
When you were needed, you
were playing politics in Rome,
wearing a red tie--
- But, signora, I--
- Talking in cafes.
Now it's over.
I'm through with lawyers.
Get out of here.
- Really, now--
- Get out of here right now.
- Good god.
- Get out.
- What a temper.
- Out.
Out of my house.
- I understand.
No, I don't understand.
(grunts)
Signora Paterno.
Signora Paterno, you
owe me an explanation.
Ah, there you are, signora.
You were very rude to me.
You threw me out,
may I know why?
- Because you disgust me.
You and your big words.
You're a faker.
- Faker?
I will not take that,
signora, from anyone.
- Then take this.
- I'm disgusting?
A faker?
How dare you say that, huh?
- Out!
- If you please, I will
not permit such language.
- Out of here.
- You're a witch.
I'm sorry, a lady shouldn't
talk that way to anybody.
Were my actions in any way to
be interpreted as unethical?
I'm attracted, certainly
I'm attracted,
but only for political and
social reasons.
And that's all.
(gentle music)
(grunts)
It's the trial that attracts
me, my dear widow Paterno.
I'm a faker, huh?
Disgusting, ha.
It's unheard of.
A faker, huh?
You're mad, my dear woman, mad.
- Rosine, where are you?
Oh, Rosina.
Rosina, where you gone?
Rosine.
- Concetta Paterno.
(suspenseful music)
It seems that it's two years now
that you've been
going around town
saying you're going to kill me.
Am I supposed to believe
that, signora, huh?
(laughing)
Where you running?
Wait.
Over here, Concetta Paterno.
(gun fires)
(grunts)
Think I didn't notice what a
nice woman you are, signora?
Angeluzzo Paterno wasn't
good enough for you.
Go on, shoot.
And when you run out,
I'll let you feel what's
like to have a real lover.
(gun fires)
The shots are over and we
have some fun.
Come here.
You'll love it.
- Murderer.
You snake.
- Come here.
- No.
- Snake, huh?
- [Concetta] Murderer.
- [Vito] Keep still.
What are you gonna do with that,
huh?
(grunting)
- I hate you.
- I'll give it to you good.
- I'll kill you.
- I'll give to you.
What are you doing?
Bitch.
It's gonna hurt.
- What are you doing?
- [Vito] And you're gonna
cry like a cat.
(Titina screaming)
Like a cat, shout, go on.
- No!
(Titina screaming)
(Vito laughing)
- Love is better when it hurts.
When the bitch cry.
- Stop it!
Stop!
- Let go of me!
- [Spallone] You
miserable wretch.
How dare you?
(grunting)
- [Vito] Let go of me, idiot.
There.
Is that what you want, huh?
Is that what you want, huh?
(gun fires)
You bitch.
Here, shoot at him.
(groaning)
The slut.
(motorcycle engine revving)
- Spallo.
Spallone.
Oh, my god.
How do you feel?
(groans)
Huh?
Here.
- Why did you say that I'm
disgusting like the others?
- Forget it.
- Why did you?
I have to know.
Why?
- You remember Caterina?
- Oh, which Caterina?
- You don't even remember her.
She worked in your house
many years ago.
But you don't remember.
- Caterina.
Who is this Caterina?
- She gave you a son.
- A son?
- Yeah, a son, a son.
The little creature was
sent to an orphanage
and that poor girl got
thrown out and spat upon,
and treated like a whore.
Because of that, you
make me sick.
- No, I didn't know anything.
- Naturally, sure, you
had to leave,
you had to go to university,
politics, Socialism, eh.
You couldn't waste your time
with a little peasant girl
you just fooled around with,
huh?
But she needed a job,
what could she do?
You were the young
master of the house,
and she didn't dare say no.
You are disgusting.
- A man is a man, it can happen.
(groaning)
It even happened to Karl Marx,
the founder of Socialism.
- Ah, Socialism.
- Even he,
there was some incident
with his maid,
and he too had a son.
- Did he recognize him?
- No, he couldn't.
- Then he's a shit.
- How do you know
all about that?
Caterina, I mean.
It all happened 30 years ago.
- It was the poor
woman who told me.
I helped her have an abortion.
- Abortion?
- Yeah, abortion, abortion.
A good deed, I call it.
There are three kinds of men:
men, half men, and bastards.
And one should make
children only with a man.
Otherwise, it's far better
to spare those poor creatures
the sight of this rotten world.
- But you could end up in jail.
- And I would go.
I don't give a damn
about the law.
- You are so pure and, pure
and clean like a flame.
(groaning)
- What's the matter?
What's wrong?
Don't scare me.
What is it?
- I'm cold.
I'm so cold.
- Oh.
- If things turn out
badly, put me on a cart,
and take me up on a
mountain, and leave me there.
I've caused enough trouble.
- No, no, what are you saying?
Didn't you save me from
something worse than death?
(muttering)
I'll never leave you, never.
(opera music)
Spallo.
(speaking in foreign language)
What is it, oh my god.
- A little kiss.
- A kiss?
You want a kiss?
From me?
Amore.
Amore.
(moaning)
(grunting)
- [Concetta] What are you doing?
You're choking me.
Spallo, I thought you said
you were dying.
- You brought me back to life.
- No, relax.
Be good, be--
- Oh, what sweet passion,
madness, ecstasy.
You inflamed my blood.
- No, easy, let me go.
- Oh, chaste goddess.
- No.
Angelo.
- Ah, delight.
Amore, infinite ecstasy.
- You mean it?
Amore.
- Ah, honey lips.
Honey lips.
Let me look at you, caress you.
Oh, let me kiss you.
Oh, sweet wonder of creation,
of the sun.
(speaking in foreign language)
Divine spheres.
And you, goddess, sweet
Jezebel, Aphrodite.
- Spallo.
- Vestal divinity.
- Be quiet.
- Font of pleasure.
- Let's do it, but in silence.
(sighs)
Spallo.
Spallo, wake up.
(groaning)
(grunting)
- You brought life back to me.
Oh, Venus.
Venus, naked in Greece.
Fleur-de-lis in my embrace.
- You're talking silly.
Now you gotta go, it's
getting late.
- Amour, amour, amour.
- Spallo, there's a thing
I gotta ask you.
- Less political ideals
which I hold are sacred,
all else, my existence as,
my estate,
I do place at your feet.
- Hmm.
- These beautiful feet,
like petals, rose petals.
- It's very easy.
I want you to forget
what we've done.
You must do it.
- Forget?
No, let's remember, instead,
till we're dead, forever.
(Concetta groans)
- What are you doing,
making poetry?
Spallone.
- Mmm, don't call me Spallone.
I feel as if I'm in
the army again.
- But your name is
Rosario Maria.
- Oh--
- Don't worry.
No names no more, all right.
I'm just a widow.
What I did, I did it for,
to show you my gratitude.
I belong to Angeluzzo,
that's the way it's gonna be.
- Have you gone mad?
Don't you understand that I
love you, Concetta Paterno?
And that our witness is
your husband up there.
He can attest to your virtue.
And if he could speak--
- He'd say, Titina, you
fell in love?
And then, I'd have to say, no.
- It's not possible.
Before, when I held you,
I could tell you
reacted and loved me.
- Ah, yeah, I was weak, weak,
all right?
Weakness without love, though,
is,
Spallo, what happened
never happened, understand?
(gentle music)
- What if I should go
and hang myself?
- It means you're a
son of a bitch
and that you don't love me.
(playful jazzy music)
(speaking in foreign language)
- What's your pay?
- [Boys] Five taris.
- Hm, yeah, the old story.
The years pass, but in
this country,
still the same old shit.
- Who are you?
What do you want?
- On their knees all day long
down in that pit like mice.
And five taris a day is
all they get,
like when I worked here, yeah.
Right in this here mine,
when I was a kid and
that was long ago.
- Hey, what is all this?
Who gave you the
permission to come here?
Who are you?
- It's not the bookkeeper's
fault, he's a good guy, kids.
Yeah, and to prove it,
he wants everybody to
get double pay this week.
(laughing)
- Boh.
- Ain't that right?
You're a real paesan,
real good guy.
- What good guy?
What will I tell the Baron?
- Frankly, I don't know.
Maybe you can say that it
was a miracle by the Madonna.
Or if you prefer, you
can say there was a guy
who was putting the
pressure on you.
The name is Nick Sanmichele.
(gun fires)
- Not bad, eh, Spaventa?
- Nice shot.
- Over here.
- That's the one.
- Here we are.
- Oh, what are you doing?
The bird's mine.
I shot it.
There, you see?
From my gun.
Learn how to shoot
before you hunt.
- Here, take this, I'll
see you later.
Signora Paterno, wait.
Wait, please, I have
to talk to you,
just for a moment, I beg you.
We must talk.
I can't go on like this.
(speaking in foreign language)
No, wait.
(gentle music)
Wait for me.
Wait.
I tried to respect your wishes.
Can I help it if I'm in love?
Concetta.
- I told you to forget it,
stop it.
- I beg you, you must listen.
- We must forget.
- I can't forget.
I can't make believe I
don't love you.
Concetta.
- Go, go.
(singing in foreign language)
Who put that frame around you,
Angeluzzo?
(cheering)
(lively jazzy music)
(speaking in foreign language)
- Nick Sanmichele, the
son of Cucuzzedu, eh.
- Yeah, back from America.
Let's drink, everybody.
I used to dream of this moment.
Feel like crying.
- Nicuzzo.
- Padre.
- [Villager] Nicky.
(laughing)
(speaking in foreign language)
You're back.
- Yeah, from New York.
And look, look what I brought
yous, the Blessed Virgin,
isn't she beautiful?
- Drink, Nicuzzo.
- Thank you very much.
Salute.
Cheers.
Drink up, it's a holiday.
(lively jazzy music)
- What are you doing here?
What do you want?
- Wait a moment.
That's a Jelly Roll song.
Genuine American music.
Wonderful.
- Huh?
(laughing)
- I'm taking a bath.
What do you want?
Get out of here.
- Only you.
Only you don't know who I am,
eh?
Everybody recognizes me.
And yet, you, no.
- I don't know who you are
and I don't give a damn.
- I'm Nick Sanmichele,
Angeluzzo's second cousin.
Don't you remember?
(grunting)
(whistling)
Nicuzzo.
- Nicuzzo, Madonna, you
were just a little kid.
- I came here to say hello
to you before leaving
because I'm returning
to New York,
and there is this big present
for you, this gramophone, hmm?
But I see that maybe I
disturb you here, yeah?
Okay, don't worry.
I'll go to your home and
wait for you there, hmm?
- Wait.
Wait a moment.
Wait.
Nicuzzo.
Nicuzzo.
(speaking in foreign language)
Couldn't you wait?
Nicuzzo, it's really you?
You came back.
Oh, my god, you look like
a millionaire.
- [Nick] Did you like
the flowers?
And the silver frame
I brought you?
- Oh, it was you.
They were beautiful.
God knows how much you spent.
And the frame too, that
you dedicated to Angeluzzo.
The first nice thing anyone
has ever done for him.
Isn't that so, Angeluzzo?
You see, your little
cousin came.
- Hmm.
(speaking in foreign language)
That's right, Angeluzzo,
I've come back here to
say hello to you.
Because now I am an American.
I made a lot of money there.
I got a bar in New York.
Yeah, and now I speak American.
Just think, if you had let
in my place, who knows?
Ah, Christ.
- No, don't say that.
Don't wish that.
- Why not, if it's the truth?
Why can't I?
I loved him too.
- You know what happened.
About the trial and everything?
You know that the bastard who
killed him right under my eyes
is still alive and free?
- Yeah, yeah.
- His name is Vito Acicatena.
- Yeah, we know the facts.
- He's back and he's a
Fascist, and I got no peace.
I got no peace, I got no peace.
- Don't worry about it now.
I just got here.
It's a special day today and
for you I brought flowers,
and for Angeluzzo, did you
read on the frame, huh?
The dedication we wrote?
We'll never forget you.
So, don't worry about it.
Anyway, there's this nice
present for you
from Uncle John from New
York, this gramophone.
You remember Uncle John,
Zio Giovanni?
So, you wanna give me a
little smile now, hmm?
- No.
(speaking in foreign language)
For many years I wanted to cry.
Now he comes along and
I'm supposed to smile.
Take this phone-o-phone
back to America.
I couldn't care less,
understand?
- Okay, so, I'm
leaving tomorrow,
but before I go, you
gotta make me some lasagna
with those little meatballs
inside, huh, like you used to.
You remember, don't you?
Baked lasagna, where you put
in a little basil and garlic.
Okay, I'll see you tomorrow.
- But who invited you?
- You, because I read
it in your eyes.
Okay, I'll see you
tomorrow at 12 o'clock.
- Wait.
The music, what am I gonna
do with that damn machine?
(speaking in foreign language)
Nicuzzo, come back here.
Wait.
Nicuzzo, will you wait a minute?
What's the matter with you?
- [Nick] Don't forget,
lasagna with meatballs.
- Come back here.
- Tomorrow.
- It's time to eat.
(glass clinking)
(groans)
Good for nothing never
here and it's time to eat.
It's time to eat.
Ah, you're finally here.
Maria, his highness has arrived.
What are you doing
with newspaper?
Not to read.
Did you hear me, it's
time to eat.
Are you coming or not?
And cover your mouth when
you yawn, ill-mannered.
What did I ever do to
deserve a son like that?
- Acute
arteriosclerosis at work.
- Cross yourself.
Put the napkin in front of you.
Around your neck,
or you'll get the sauce
all over your shirt.
Ha, you got to explain what
you're doing with this book.
Land to the Peasants.
Ha, the land to who earns it.
You're supposed to be a
landowner, a proprietor,
and you read this thing that
says land to the peasants.
You're an imbecile.
You're totally mad.
Just mad, totally mad.
Maria.
Maria.
- Watch out, Mamma,
'cause I'm going to leave.
- Oh, you're gonna go
away again, eh?
(sneers)
So what else is new?
- Signorino Rosario.
- Thank you.
- You should eat more,
you look sick.
You're so run-down, eat, eat.
You're all full of wrinkles,
dried up, skinny, obnoxious.
You make me feel ashamed.
And don't drink.
Stop it, don't drink,
don't drink.
Stop it, I said.
I said don't smudge.
You're gonna smudge yourself.
Listen to your mother.
- My mother?
- Eh.
- But the truth is that I want
to have sauce all over me.
All right?
- Oh, look at the poor thing.
He thinks he's being cute,
imbecile.
(groaning)
I'm warning you.
I'm gonna have you committed
if you continue like this.
- Ah.
- In an asylum.
- Believe me, I'll
consider it a vacation,
but you better do it right away
because I'm about to sell
the Saint Agatha orchards.
- You out of your mind?
I mean, you're joking.
- No, no.
- Oh, my god, you want me to
have a stroke this instant?
- Possibly, but nothing
can kill you.
- Then it's true.
You're gonna sell.
- Yes, it's true,
I made the deal.
I need the money because
I'm going to present myself
to the electorate as a
Socialist deputy.
A deputy who says the
land to the peasants.
(wheezing)
Oh, fine, now try to have
a nice stroke.
- May I come in?
Is anybody here?
There's nobody here.
Excuse me, sir, are
non-members allowed?
- Certainly, certainly.
Why don't you take a seat?
- Thank you, I ask because
on the door outside
it says for members
only, so I didn't know.
I may have said to
myself, what should I do?
I should enter, I
should not enter,
I don't wanna disturb
nobody, you know what I mean?
- Come in, but be quiet,
silence, please.
- Oh, yes, sorry.
Thank you, sir.
With your permission.
- Chip.
- Mm.
- I'm in.
- Ahem.
- 10 liras.
- Mm.
- No, I pass.
- Rosario, are you bluffing
or are you out to
ruin me tonight?
I keep losing here.
- Bet, Lucio, go ahead.
- Yeah, go ahead,
he keeps betting like a nut.
Let me think a little.
You're really a big pain in
the ass tonight, you know.
- Excuse me.
- Mm?
- Would you like to sell?
Is it okay if I take
over his game?
- What do you mean?
- Well, we do this a
lot in America.
- Do what?
- I take over your game
and, consequently, I
pay your losses.
You know what I mean?
I'm buying the right,
the right to play in your
place, if you want to.
- I don't mind.
The only trouble is you
should be informed
I'm losing more than 120 liras.
For me it's all right,
it's up to you, Rosario.
He's taking all the losses,
what difference does it make?
Don't you think, Rosario?
Won't you sit down?
- Thank you, thank you.
Okay.
Well, hey, kid, come over here.
How about a little drink, huh?
- No, thanks.
- [Nick] Let me offer
you a drink.
How about you?
- No, I don't drink, thanks.
- All right, a cognac for
me, kid, huh, hurry up.
Oh, well, then.
Let's see the way things stand.
Pair of sevens, pair of eights,
and my possible straight.
Want to do something more
exciting tonight, hmm?
You bet 10 liras.
What do you say we raise it 100?
(speaking in foreign language)
- [Ciccio] No, I'm out.
- [Nick] You staying in,
pair of sevens?
- It's too heavy.
Not for me, thanks.
- Jack, ace, king bets 100,
quite a sum.
You're accustomed to betting
on a higher level in America.
But not to make you feel
you're among a bunch
of provincial Italians,
not only I see you for
100, but I raise you 500.
- Rosario, 500?
- 500, you heard me.
- We'll never remember all this.
I better write it down.
- Deal 'em out.
Queen with a pair of
eights, and a pair of aces.
- Bet, aces bet.
- Yes, sir.
Did you establish a limit
here to the betting?
- No, none.
- Ah, okay, wonderful.
All right.
- What do you bet?
- Whatever you got in front
of you plus 1,000, hm?
1,000 it is, then.
- Ciccio, the Saint Agatha
fields and the orchard,
how much are they worth?
- He's gone out of his mind.
- Including livestock and all?
- You gone mad?
- Don't be a ball-breaker.
How much is it all worth?
- I don't know, at least 30,000.
- [Spallone] Naturally,
30,000 liras
is an approximate evaluation,
if you're willing to accept it.
- Of course, aren't we all
gentlemen here?
- I don't know, if the bet
is a little over your head.
- I am at your service.
- Well, all right.
- Even the whole 30,000
is okay with me.
(sighs)
- All right, 30,000 is the
bet, if you wanna stay in.
- Hmm, okay.
I see you for 30,000.
- Three eights.
- Hmm, I'm sorry.
- Man, he's got three aces.
- Well, that's the breaks.
- He's ruined you, my god.
I mean, what's the matter with
you, you drunk, you got mad?
What the hell were you doing?
- Having some fun.
Isn't a gentleman
entitled to a little fun?
- I'm really sorry if this
is a big problem for you.
Don't worry, let's forget
about it, huh?
How about if we cancel the bet?
I don't wanna cause
you any trouble.
- Me, trouble?
You don't seem to understand,
Mr. America.
I can double the stakes.
- Rosario.
- You see the palazzo out
in the square?
I can throw that in to boot,
if you still wanna play.
- Rosario, please.
- That's enough now.
- Excuse me, but let the
lawyer make up his own mind.
He's a lawyer, he don't
need a wet nurse.
Do you wanna play, huh?
- Yes, I want to play, come on.
- Hmm.
- Wonderful, generous, noble,
and out of your mind, great.
But you're missing a
fundamental quality
to be a real card player, Mr.
Lawyer, and you know what?
Nose.
I took your nose.
Just like I took the third
ace out of my sleeve.
I cheated.
(gasps)
- You are a cheat.
- Eh, yes, sir.
But I don't do it for a living.
It's just to have some fun.
But it's no fun with you.
And you know why?
Because you're too
much of a kid.
You're really dumb.
(groans)
- You bastard.
- No, you can't say that.
If I was a bastard,
if I was a bastard, I'd have
made you lose your shirt
and your dirty underwear
too, Mr. Lawyer Spallone.
- You scum.
- Keep your eyes open next time.
Heh, gentlemen.
- Why, you little--
- No, Rosario.
Control yourself.
- Yeah, listen, sonny.
Instead of being insulting,
you ought to say thanks to me.
That's what you ought to say.
- Let him go, let him go,
Rosario.
- Au revoir, Rosario Maria.
- Ah, no, put me down.
- Yeah, yeah.
(laughing)
- [Peppina] Bad boy, no.
(Nick humming)
- Put her down.
Are you crazy?
Put her down.
Stop it.
- Put me down.
- You're gonna put
her down or not?
- Where?
- Over there.
- Yeah, okay, tootsie,
okay, nice and easy.
(whistling)
- Ah, the lawyer again.
- [Spallone] Looks like
you're having a feast.
Am I right or wrong, am
I right or wrong, eh?
- [Concetta] What the
hell do you care?
- [Spallone] No, it's
just that I didn't know.
- Then what did you
come for anyway?
- I smelled something wonderful.
Meatloaf?
- No, it's lasagna
with meatballs.
- A fantastic perfume.
Perhaps I'm being indiscreet
seeing as you are having a
family reunion, but Donna
Titina.
- [Concetta] Ah.
- Would you not honor me by
requesting that I join you, hmm?
- Come, sit.
Sit down.
- My sincerest thanks.
Here's to us.
(gasps)
- Hey, our lawyer is a
real nice guy, isn't he?
Are you sure you are the
son of Don Alfio Spallone?
- Mm-hmm.
- That's strange because
your father, instead,
he used to push everybody
around, especially his peasants,
like my father.
- Oh, I didn't know about that.
- Yeah, but one day, my father
got pissed off at your father
and faced him with a
knife in his hand.
And you know what your father
said then to my father?
"Bad times," he said,
"when an honest man
"can't even kick his own
peasants around anymore."
- Really?
He said that to him?
- Yeah, that's what he said.
- He did well.
Your father did very
well to rebel like that.
A man full of dignity.
- Yeah, a dead man
full of dignity.
Because after that, your father
told him where he could go.
And so, my father had to
work in the sulfur mine.
Ah, I wish that knife had
been in my hand.
If you knew how I hated
my father, poor old guy,
afraid, destroyed,
because he didn't knife your
father when he should have.
Then he got sick, he
caught the miner's disease
and died within a year.
(playful jazzy music)
- That's frightening,
it's tragic.
I feel guilty for my father.
- It wasn't your fault.
Here.
- At 16 I left home and
became an Anarchist.
- [Nick] What the hell for?
- Just go against my father.
- Ah.
- You hated your father.
He hated his father.
And I hated my mother.
- That's good.
- We all grew up hating.
- Wonderful.
Hate is a good teacher.
It's one of the best.
(laughing)
Look at us, for instance.
With hate in your belly,
you grow strong.
It's our force.
(laughing)
(suspenseful music)
- [Concetta] It's me, open up.
No, nobody saw me, don't worry.
(groaning)
Shh, quiet, quiet.
They mustn't hear us.
(lively jazzy music)
(chuckles)
What are you doing there?
- Oh, nothing special.
I just wanted to know how
much you charge.
I can pay you good.
I can even pay you with
dollars, if you want.
- [Concetta] What a pity.
- And to think no one
suspected anything, either.
Concetta Paterno, even in
New York they know about her.
The widow with a rifle.
The faithful and revengeful lady
who swore that she'd get
her husband's killer.
But instead,
you are the town's secret whore.
Come here, let's have a drink.
Hmm?
(laughing)
With a riffle, shit.
- Get dressed and get
out of here.
Come on.
- What's the matter?
Did I make the lady feel bad?
How's it possible?
For a woman who gets
around like you do.
- Forget it, nothing
has happened.
I don't wanna see you anymore.
- And why is it good for
the others and not for me?
A relative, if anything,
has more right, no?
You think that your dear
departed up there
will suffer to see you, huh?
Don't worry about it.
I bet he'd be happy to
see, with his own eyes,
what a whore his wife
has turned into.
I offer $200.
I'm ready, come and get it.
- [Concetta] Oh, you filthy pig.
- [Nick] What do you
think you're doing?
- Out of my house, out.
- Gimme that gun.
- Don't you touch me.
- I'll show you.
- You animal!
(clattering)
Get out.
Get away from me.
- I'll show you.
(groans)
- Get out.
- [Nick] You pulled my hair out.
(screaming)
- [Concetta] Let me go.
(grunting)
No, no, no more.
- Come here.
- [Concetta] What are you doing?
What are you doing?
- [Nick] Ah, you don't
know what I'm doing, huh?
- Take your hands off me.
- Keep still (speaking
in foreign language).
(grunting)
Goddamn whore.
(speaking in foreign language)
Keep still.
And what's this?
(fabric rips)
And now I show you.
- God, no, no.
(breathing heavily)
- And to think I had
so much respect for you
as if you were the
Blessed Virgin Mary.
You don't even know,
but you got into my blood
a long time ago,
when I was a little kid.
But Angeluzzo was like a
brother to me,
and I felt like Cain
because I wanted you.
Tell me, who was in that house?
You went there like a
bitch in heat.
Tell me, who was in there?
Open your eyes, look at me.
Who was in there?
- I was with a poor woman.
She needed an abortion.
- What the hell are you saying?
- What the hell am I saying?
What I'm saying?
Take a look, she's still
sitting there.
(cries)
- An abortion.
(gentle music)
You've got to forgive me.
I beg you, you've got
to forgive me.
You've got to forgive me.
You've got to.
- Eh.
- Because I've always been,
because I've always been
in love with you.
From the very first day I
respected you,
and you knew I loved you.
I thought I was going
out of my mind.
But, you too, you're crazy
going around giving abortions.
But now, now that I felt
you so strong inside,
you're part of me forever.
(singing in foreign language)
- This is not for us.
It's not for me.
I don't belong to anyone.
It's over, my life is over.
Your life is in America,
and you're still so young.
So young.
- In America,
I killed 25 people.
(gasps)
- [Concetta] Oh, god.
Why?
Why?
- Why, because I had to do it.
It was when they killed
Uncle Nicola.
A guy like Acicatena
sold him down the drain.
And I had to show them we
had the guts to hit back.
It was the only way
to get those bastards to
show us respect.
- My poor Nick.
My poor baby.
You're lost, too, amore mio.
- If you leave me, then
I'll be lost.
I'll be lost for real.
There is this nut in
the government
who invented prohibition.
And that prohibits drinking.
No wine, nothing.
Prohibition for every
kind of alcohol.
Well, now, wouldn't have
you tried to help the people
and let them have a
little drink?
There's no selling
over the counter.
And so, we sell the stuff under.
- But that's like smuggling.
- Yes, sir.
But it's humanitarian.
Humanitarian smugglers.
(laughing)
Besides, when there is a
million dollars involved,
and when even nice ladies
let you pinch their ass,
bootlegging becomes respectable
and it's called business.
Import and export.
And since there is a ship
that we've loaded with booze
that's going to
Genoa and Naples,
and since now, the Fascists
are playing around,
I have to go and check
on the organization.
And so, I'm leaving.
You don't trust me, huh?
I'll be back in about a month
and I'll take you with
me to America.
- My god, what a mess.
It's better you don't return.
- You're a real nut,
widow Paterno.
I'm gonna have to be
real patient with you.
- Eh, to me, sounds like
they want a revolution.
- No, listen, there's
no need for it anymore.
By now, it's clear.
- What is?
- That the king is in
agreement with Mussolini.
They must be in agreement,
otherwise, with all his
troops in Rome,
there would have been
a civil war.
- That's for sure.
- As usual, things will end
with feasting and drinking wine.
- Eh, thank god.
What would you have wanted,
another French revolution?
With guillotines and
heads rolling?
We're better off this way.
- Yeah, feasting and
drinking wine.
(laughing)
- Mussolini as head of state.
I can't imagine it.
What a clown.
- Spallo, King Victor,
Emmanuel, Garibaldi, Mussolini.
The names change, but
here it's always the same,
always the same.
- But don't you realize,
we could end up with an
Acicatena as mayor of this town.
Acicatena.
- At least I'll know where
to find him and shoot him.
Can't you understand only
those kind of people win, hm?
- No.
What a shambles.
My god.
(whistling)
Sounds like Spaventa.
- [Spaventa] Spallone!
- Wait here.
- Spallone, where are you going?
Wait for me.
Wait.
- Finally.
Tutino told me, he said
you were in here.
- What's the matter?
- You're just in time.
- For what, what's---
- A showdown with the Baron,
the peasants, let's get moving.
- A revolt?
- Spallone.
Where are you going?
- There's little time.
- I have to go.
- Everybody's there already.
- I'm sorry.
- Spallo.
- [Spallone] Who organized
this revolt, huh?
- Where is everybody?
They turned chicken.
Christ, I knew it.
- Thank god, instead,
that they didn't show up.
Yeah, you let them
occupy the land and then?
They'll be found guilty and
no one will defend them,
not even in Parliament.
They go to jail.
- Shut up, Spallone,
it was a golden opportunity.
- Yeah, golden opportu--
(groaning)
Goddamn, you idiot, golden
opportunity of my ass.
By losing your heads, you're
not going to gain anything.
The only way to take this land
is through legal procedure.
The law decides.
Only the law can help
you by the legal vote.
But not now that the
Fascists and military
are in cahoots together.
- You're talking like a Fascist.
- [Spallone] Me, a Fascist?
- No, no, don't.
- Get out of here.
A Fascist, huh?
I'll strangle you.
I'll kill you.
Fascist, me, a Fascist.
- Let him go.
- I'll murder you.
(Fascists chanting in
foreign language)
- The Fascists!
Oh, my god, Peppino, come here!
The Fascists!
- Run, Spallone.
- [Woman] Run!
- Acicatena.
- Who is the troublemaker?
This Socialist idiot here.
(laughing)
Out, out, everybody out.
- [Spallone] Why, you bastards.
- The son of a bitch.
Get him.
Hit him.
(grunting)
(groaning)
We'll show what the law is.
Get him up, get him up.
Let everybody see what a
beautiful sight.
Our great and noble Socialist.
Our great lawyer.
Defender of lonely widows.
And generous, too.
Can you imagine, we've
got a landowner here
who squats on other
people's land.
Son of a bitch, you think
you can spit on us, huh?
Who do you think you are?
He hates my guts,
look at his eyes.
Sounds like he wants
to throw up.
Yeah, well, we got something
to pump the hate out of him,
isn't that right?
Castor oil, a funnel, and
we pour it down his gullet
until he drowns in his own shit.
Drink up, lawyer.
- [Mother] I don't want
that slut coming in my home.
I don't want her, understand?
- Keep her out, keep her out.
You can't go in.
- Get out of my way.
- You can't go in.
- Let me through.
- No, no, signora.
- Where is he, Spallo?
(gasps)
- Didn't I tell you?
It's embarrassing for him.
They filled him with castor oil.
Every 10 minutes he has to.
He should be through
by now, wait a minute.
Yeah, Maria, Maria, take
that chamberpot, go on.
(Spallone groaning)
Move.
Come, signora, you can go
in now, go in.
- Spallo.
- No, please.
(speaking in foreign language)
Go away.
- Spallo.
- No, leave me alone.
- Who did it?
- It's humiliating.
- It was Acicatena, eh,
that worm.
They all ganged up, huh?
Spallo, look at me.
And it was all my fault,
because of me.
- What humiliation,
what a failure.
- Won't you even look at me?
- You once said there are
men, half men, and bastards.
I, where do I fit in with your--
- Shh, stop it.
Don't talk like that.
- Ah, useless, full of
dreams and vain ideals.
I don't know how to live,
how to sustain a struggle.
Nothing, I'm just nothing.
And that son of mine.
I was thinking of him last
night coming back from Rome.
He would be 30 years old.
Who knows what's become of him?
I make myself sick,
I'm a failure.
- What are you saying?
What failure, useless.
You know you are, you
are for me--
- No, no, you're being sweet
only because you pity me.
- No, no.
No, I love you.
Because you're clean
and generous and strong
like a real man.
And you respect all
god's creatures.
(gentle guitar music)
How did it happen?
(speaking in foreign language)
Angelu, what do I know?
Oh, I know how it happens, eh?
I know you think that.
In other words, you're saying
that I was always a whore.
Just a stinking whore.
But we didn't notice it,
that's all.
And now you sit there and smile.
Eh, smile, smile, your wife is
a, ah, Angeluzzo, Angeluzzo,
I'm no better than my mother.
I thought I was a good woman,
but no.
All of a sudden I'm dirt
because I followed my heart.
Is it my fault if I
love them both?
Now, if that means I'm a
stinking whore,
well, what can I tell you?
It's god's truth and amen.
(chickens clucking)
- Hold it.
- Oh, my love, it's you.
You've come back, finally.
- Crazy woman.
- You're back.
- You were crazy when I left
and now you're still crazy.
What's the matter with you?
Wanna shoot me, huh?
- No.
- Who did you think I was, hmm?
Acicatena?
Tell the truth.
- This morning he almost
killed Spallone.
He found out he was
back from Rome.
If I had known, I
would have gone
and I would have shot
that bastard.
- Ah, come on.
- Ah, it's terrible.
- Now stop talking about it.
I'm back now.
Everything is okay, don't worry.
No.
(gentle guitar music)
Two months away from
this crazy woman.
- Amore.
Amore mio.
(breathing heavily)
Oh, my god.
No.
Oh, you turn me to butter
and I should be strong.
Don't make me act this way.
Oh, you make me lose my
self respect.
- Respect?
Wherever I went this
month, to Genoa, Naples,
I kept you here.
Look, your papers, see?
Your passport.
- A passport?
- Yes, you're coming with
me to America.
Huh, you will?
Huh?
You'll come with me.
- I think I'm going
to have a baby.
(gentle guitar music)
- A baby?
My baby.
- And I think it's
Spallone's baby.
Let go of me.
(screams)
You're crazy.
Oh, my god.
(crying)
- You could have at
least told me.
But you said nothing.
If you had told me, I
would have understood
and forgiven you.
- Forgive what, Spallone?
What do you know about him?
Did you know that
Acicatena was raping me
and he risked his
life to save me?
Did you know that?
- [Nick] What are you
talking about, huh?
- It was to thank him.
- What the hell has thanking
got to do with your honor?
- Honor?
What honor?
And killing 25 people,
what's that?
Honor or dishonor?
- Only one time?
I gotta know.
Answer me.
Once?
Then why is it his?
Tell me the truth, is it mine?
Because if it's my son
and you don't tell me,
that means you really take
me for a no good killer.
- I'm the mother, only I know.
It's his baby.
And I don't even know if I
want to go through with it.
- Does he know, hmm?
(Fascists chanting in
foreign language)
- Listen, you hear them?
Listen to the way they
carry on, those idiots.
Excuse me a minute.
Who knows what they're up to.
Ah, there they are, and
there's nobody to stop them.
Not a policeman in sight,
look at that.
Heh, and look at
Acicatena leading the way.
- Acicatena.
- Look at him.
And you know where
they're heading?
For the old amphitheater.
Rosario, what are you doing?
You gone mad?
- [Acicatena] Don't worry
if we eat a little cheese,
sheepherder.
- My respects, it's an
honor to serve you.
Eat as much as you like.
- Good man, the Baron
will be very happy
that you offered us some
of his cheese.
The Baron knows me well.
Vito Acicatena has always
looked out for the Baron.
I used to defend his
property with a rifle.
Now I use my Fascisti.
We, black-shirted guards,
brought law and order here.
And we'll keep the order
like good boys,
(gun fires)
like bad boys,
(gun fires)
or very bad boys.
(gun fires)
All right?
(Nick applauding)
- [Nick] Bravo!
Wonderful!
- Who is that?
- I don't know.
- What's he want?
- My compliments.
Will you allow an ex-paesano
of yours to pay his respects?
(laughing)
Okay.
You come right to the
point, short and sweet.
I don't think a Socialist
is gonna show his
face around here.
You make them all fly away,
bravo!
You got brains, you got
bullets, and you got balls.
- Excuse me, but with whom
do I have the pleasure?
- Allow me to introduce myself.
I'm Nick Sanmichele
from New York.
I am American, and in
America, we love Mussolini.
Yeah, we love him a lot.
It's fantastic the way
you teach respect, great.
I gotta tell the paesans
back in New York about this.
- Ah, I'm on to you now.
Am I right, you said
Nick Sanmichele?
- [Nick] From New York.
- So where have you been?
We thought you were gone after
you caused all that trouble
at the sulfur mine.
They passed your name on to us.
You went around putting
strange ideas
in the heads of those kids.
- Me?
- [Acicatena] Nick Sanmichele,
yeah.
- What do you take me for,
a Socialist?
I am an American.
- Well, since you're
not a Socialist,
why don't you go mind
your own lousy business?
You can talk like
that in America.
Here, we don't like
troublemakers.
- Me, a troublemaker?
(chuckles)
Just because I passed out
a few presents
to the those little
kids in the sulfur mine?
No, I made them glad.
- You go do that sort of
thing there in America,
but not over here.
- Why not?
- Because no.
- I like it.
You got real class.
You don't give a shit.
I think you and me ought to
have a little talk together.
- You and me, what for?
- Hmm, who knows, we might
hit it off nice together.
You feel like
going for a little ride
with me, signor Acicatena?
We go in my automobile.
- If you don't mind, I don't
particularly like rides.
For me, it's better
to go walking,
that is, if you don't mind.
And if you should mind,
if you should mind,
that's all right too.
- Eh, what can I say?
These Black Shirts, they
go right to the point.
Wanna go for the ride?
Don't you trust me?
Or are you afraid?
- Afraid?
Me, afraid?
(laughing)
Hey, did you hear what
this guy asked me?
If I'm afraid.
(laughing)
Vito Acicatena here is not
afraid of you or anybody else.
Did you hear that, is
Vito Acicatena afraid?
(laughing)
The eventuality is that you
are probably afraid of me.
Maybe we ought to tell him, huh?
- [Fascist] You fool
around with Acicatena,
you'll hang by your balls,
understand, Americano?
- Okay, so he's not afraid.
Then let's go, you ready?
- I'm ready.
- That's the spirit, here we go.
It's up there.
- Wait for me here, boys.
- Vito Acicatena!
- [Fascist] Look out, Vito!
(guns fire)
- Jesus Christ, what the fuck?
- Hurry up,
let's get up there.
- Get him before he gets away.
- Up there, there he is.
- Look out, Piero!
(guns firing)
(groans)
- [Fascist] Let him go,
let him go, get up there!
- Get the hell back.
- Shoot, shoot!
- [Nick] Get back!
(groans)
- [Fascist] I got him,
I got him.
Vito!
Acicatena!
- What the fuck (speaking in
foreign language) you doing?
Get back up there, huh.
Get back.
- Get down, get down!
- Hurry up.
(gun fires)
(groans)
(gasping)
- [Fascist] Acicatena!
- Stop, I have to vomit.
- You can vomit later.
There is no time now, dumb
son of a bitch.
(gentle music)
Hurry up, come on.
- Huh?
- That dumb son of a
bitch ruined everything.
- What?
- We gotta get out.
Move, move, come on.
- What's the matter?
- Eh, what's the matter.
He shot Acicatena,
that's what's the matter.
- Acicatena?
- Yeah, in front of everybody.
Move, get what you need.
And make it quick.
- Madonna.
- [Nick] Hurry up, we've
gotta go away.
- Go away for what?
- [Nick] To live, goddammit.
The show is over, understand?
- [Concetta] What are you
saying, Nicuzzo?
- [Nick] We're
playing for keeps.
No more fooling around,
you understand?
- [Concetta] I understand,
I understand,
but what am I supposed to do?
- What's the matter with you,
hurry up.
- But what should I
get, hurry up, hurry up.
But for what?
- Shut up, (speaking in
foreign language)
Just hurry up and get
what you need.
- But tell me what happened,
at least.
- A fucking mess, that's what.
- [Concetta] Who did the
shooting, what happened?
- [Nick] Spallone comes out
waving a gun like an idiot.
- [Spallone] Titina.
- Spallone.
- What's the matter with you?
- Spallone, oh, Madonna,
he's hurt, Nicuzzo.
- [Nick] Too bad he isn't dead.
- [Concetta] Sit down,
what did you do?
- You were supposed to
stay in the car.
- You're wounded.
- Why do you make him
kiss your hands?
This stupid bastard here.
I had to kill three people
just because of him.
And everybody saw it.
(speaking in foreign language)
- Stop insulting me.
- Insulting you?
Why, not even a fucking
Turk could insult you.
Son of a bitch.
- No, no.
- You think killing a
man is easy?
Well, it's not.
- Be good.
- Where did you think you were?
Playing cards in your lousy
club for members only?
Or else playing politician?
- I've never killed before.
- We could see that.
- You gotta stop.
- Because killing, that's
for guys with guts.
- Don't be like that.
- And you have no guts, Mr.
Spallone.
You're a nothing man.
- You're out of your mind.
What's the matter with you?
- Get out, you.
Wait outside.
- Wait a minute.
- Why, you miserable.
- No, stop.
- I will murder you.
- Stop!
- I'll murder him.
I'll kill him!
- [Nick] You're crazy, you
son of a bitch.
(grunting)
(groaning)
- [Spallone] Get out of the way.
- [Concetta] What are you doing?
For god's sake, stop!
- [Spallone] You're going down!
- [Nick] This guy's crazy.
Get him off me, maniac.
- I'm a nothing man, huh?
- Leave me.
- That's enough.
- Out, out I said.
You idiot, you got me
from the back, huh?
- [Nick] What are you doing?
- Dirty, you sneak up
from the back.
- Shut up, and look
what you did.
(speaking in foreign language)
What the fuck, you don't
push a woman in that state.
- In that state?
In what state?
- [Nick] In her condition,
can't you see?
- No, you don't say nothing.
Quiet, not a word.
I want to tell him.
- Tell me what?
What do you have to tell me?
- I'm going to have a baby.
- A baby?
- Hey, don't get carried away.
She says it's your baby, but
she loves me, you understand?
She's more than a wife for me.
And if anyone lays a
finger on her,
he will get skinned,
you got that?
Understand?
- Yes.
- Disgusting.
What are you, a faggot?
For Christ's sake!
She loves me, understand?
She's practically my wife.
- My child.
Jesus Christ, can you imagine?
I have a child!
- What are you doing?
(speaking in foreign language)
- Nicuzzo.
Somebody's coming.
- Hurry up, get your stuff.
- Yeah, yeah.
- Move, move.
- Amour.
Thank you, my love.
You don't know what
this means to me.
- Here, hurry up.
- Yes, yes.
Oh, my love, a baby.
My own child.
- Listen, you better
know right now.
The baby is his, not yours.
It belongs to him.
But I don't want him to know,
understand?
- To him?
- Him.
- What's he got to do with the,
well?
- What are you doing now?
Get in the car.
They're coming.
Hurry up.
- Let's go.
- I don't believe it.
- Then don't believe it.
Shh, he's coming down.
(gentle music)
- Get in, get in.
(speaking in foreign language)
I got the new passports.
I had to buy them from
three emigrants.
Our names are on the
blacklist now.
- But then those poor wretches,
they won't be able to leave
without their documents.
- I got wise to it all
when I made my first trip.
Look at them.
Poor miserable people.
All their lives they paid for
everything with their blood.
Food, clothes, a place to sleep.
And don't think it gets any
better over there in America.
Over there, if you're not on
top, you haven't got a chance.
And only if you're on top,
maybe you can give some
poor bastard a hand.
But remember, that hand has
got to hold a gun in it.
- In a Socialist world,
it wouldn't be that way.
(scoffs)
- Okay, then you go live
in your Socialist world
'cause we're going to America.
Anyway, I gotta hurry up, I
gotta get the passports stamped.
Don't move, wait here,
I'll be right back.
- Wait, I don't want--
- Spallo, it's true.
Those three people,
they won't leave,
but you risk being shot.
- But I can't, I
don't accept it.
I don't want to buy my liberty
betraying poor emigrants.
There must be another way.
I'm going to stop him.
- Spallo, wait a minute.
(gentle music)
Spallo.
(groans)
- Signora, you feel sick?
- No, no, I feel better now.
I feel better.
- That's good.
Ah, it's no fun
traveling like this.
Me too, look, three months.
I saw you before, talking
to your husband.
Excuse me, signora, but
which one is he?
The guy that's got the passport
or the guy that's got
no passport?
- Here, this was my husband.
He died three years ago.
- Ah.
- Eh.
- Eh, what are you gonna do?
Listen, signora, are you
worried because of the baby?
Maybe I can help you.
There is this Calabrian
woman, she's a midwife.
She can help you get
rid of the baby.
- No, it's not the baby
I must free myself from.
I must go now.
Oh, god.
(screaming)
- [Fascist] Run, run!
There are Anarchists in here
and they're carrying bombs!
- There he is.
- They're carrying bombs!
Look out!
Two men and a woman!
- Help me, I gotta get.
- [Fascist] There are
Anarchists with bombs among you!
- Titina!
- They're hiding bombs!
Hey, hey, look.
Look out, two men and
a woman carrying bombs!
There, look, there he is with
the bandage, he's got a bomb!
- [Spallone] That's not true,
no, listen.
It's not true.
- That's him, that's him.
Run, run, he's got a bomb!
Look out, run!
- No, it's not true, I
have no bomb.
I am a Socialist.
A free man.
I am not a criminal.
- He's got a bomb!
- I gotta get out.
- Acicatena.
- Get down!
Get down!
- You can't bear the
sight of a free man, huh?
Go on, then.
Shoot on a defenseless man,
go ahead.
Go ahead!
(wheezing)
Murderers.
I'm not afraid.
- Give me.
- Shoot!
- Look out, look out!
- Go ahead, you cowards.
(gun fires)
- Your last fight.
(guns firing)
(groaning)
- Amore!
(opera music)
(sniffles)
The child is yours.
The child is yours.
The child is yours.
I love you, believe me.
I love you, amore mio.
- Angeluzzo Paterno,
get out of bed!
- [Angeluzzo] My god,
who's there?
- Vito Acicatena for you.
(gun fires)
(groans)
(screaming)
- Angelo.
Angelo.
(panting)
(motorcycle engine revs)
(screaming)
(dramatic music)
Angeluzzo Paterno, murdered
by persons unknown.
That's what the judges said.
Angelo Paterno was killed by
persons unknown, they said.
And yet, everybody here knew
that it was Vito Acicatena.
Vito Acicatena, he killed
him in front of my very eyes.
Any one of you could
have testified,
but you all kept quiet.
Your silence killed him.
Cowards, all of you.
You hear me?
You're the scum of the earth,
all of you.
My poor Angelo.
His death is on your conscience.
My poor child, who
was born dead.
Better to die than to set
his eyes upon such snakes
in this stinking town.
- [Policeman] That's
enough, signora Paterno.
That's enough now, understand?
- You're all guilty.
- All right, stop that.
Stop this nonsense, you're
disturbing the peace.
- But Angeluzzo's murder--
- Quiet.
- That doesn't disturb
the peace, huh?
- Be silent.
- Don't you touch me,
understand?
- [Policeman] Move along,
go home.
Move, move before I
put you inside.
- You rotten people.
- Out, out, go on.
- You make me sick.
You were born slaves
and you will die slaves.
But I won't, no, sir.
Go and tell Vito Acicatena
that he will face Concetta
Paterno in person.
If Vito Acicatena is not a
coward, he will have to face me!
What injustice, give him
to me, Concetta Paterno.
Tell that to Vito Acicatena.
(gentle guitar music)
(sobbing)
- Ah, beautiful, beautiful.
No wonder the Greek invaders
fell in love with Sicily
and made it their most
flourishing colony.
Beautiful and yet desperate.
Look, look there: child labor,
a curse in this country.
One of the many curses.
You'll never know the injustices
suffered by this dear
land of mine.
And my dear Sicilians,
reared ion pain and
endless privations.
But yet unpredictable,
an extravagant race.
Is that a woman in a coal cart?
A woman who carts coal,
who is she?
Slow down.
- [Spaventa] That's the widow
Paterno, the Neapolitan,
don't you remember?
- Stop.
Gimme my camera, hurry up.
- [Tutuzzo] Here, here.
(chuckles)
- [Spaventa] She looks
like a bandit, huh?
- Over here?
- Yeah, yeah, stop.
- [Spaventa] Look at the
way she drives a mule.
Like a man, look.
(opera music)
- Eh, this is Sicily.
- You didn't know
'cause it's 10 years that
you've been far away.
- [Spallone] What do you mean?
- She's the widow of
Angeluzzo Paterno.
She didn't think the
judges made a fair decision
at the trial.
- What trial?
- What trial?
You mean to say you don't know
how Angeluzzo
Paterno was killed?
- No.
Signora Paterno.
Look out.
(Concetta yelps)
Oh, excuse me.
Wait a moment, signora Paterno.
- [Concetta] What the
hell does he want?
- You need any help?
- [Concetta] No, what
do you want?
- I'd like to speak to
you about your husband.
- Hm, my husband.
My husband is right there,
huh, you see, go talk.
- I understand your
misgivings, you're right.
After what happened.
I am Rosario Maria Spallone.
Perhaps you've heard of me,
although I've been
away a long time.
I am a Socialist and a lawyer.
- Huh, better a plague.
- You are right.
You are right, but this is
a special case,
one that should be
brought to justice.
- Justice.
Big word.
- It's a word we must
believe in, signora.
Your husband
believed in justice.
Yes, he did.
Angelo Paterno was murdered
because he took part in
the fisherman's strike.
He refused to raise prices,
he defied the Baron and the
Baron wanted him to starve.
And I heard the witnesses at
the trial were intimidated
as usual.
And, excuse me,
I also know you lost your
baby that same night.
I'm terribly sorry.
Yet, I must ask you
about the facts.
- Hm, you hear him, Angelu?
He wants the facts.
Go ask those lying
bastards in town,
they'll give you the facts.
- But, signora, no, you
don't seem to understand.
I want a new trial.
- Yeah, and we want to
sell charcoal.
- But I am an enemy of
your own enemies.
So what better friend
could you have than I?
- Hm.
- Allow me to explain.
- [Concetta] Explain, explain.
- This trial, signora
Paterno, is important not.
- Well?
Oh.
- Excuse me.
I'm, I don't know if
you've understood what I,
in other words, I
was saying that
after being involved with
the party and the politics,
after so many years,
I feel the need to be
involved with, more closely,
with he reality of this
town of mine.
Anyway,
I took this photograph of
you the same day I arrived.
You seemed so beautiful, so
proud, midst the olive trees.
Please accept it.
Signora Paterno, it
could be a great trial.
- Go away, Mr. Socialist.
When you were needed, you
were playing politics in Rome,
wearing a red tie--
- But, signora, I--
- Talking in cafes.
Now it's over.
I'm through with lawyers.
Get out of here.
- Really, now--
- Get out of here right now.
- Good god.
- Get out.
- What a temper.
- Out.
Out of my house.
- I understand.
No, I don't understand.
(grunts)
Signora Paterno.
Signora Paterno, you
owe me an explanation.
Ah, there you are, signora.
You were very rude to me.
You threw me out,
may I know why?
- Because you disgust me.
You and your big words.
You're a faker.
- Faker?
I will not take that,
signora, from anyone.
- Then take this.
- I'm disgusting?
A faker?
How dare you say that, huh?
- Out!
- If you please, I will
not permit such language.
- Out of here.
- You're a witch.
I'm sorry, a lady shouldn't
talk that way to anybody.
Were my actions in any way to
be interpreted as unethical?
I'm attracted, certainly
I'm attracted,
but only for political and
social reasons.
And that's all.
(gentle music)
(grunts)
It's the trial that attracts
me, my dear widow Paterno.
I'm a faker, huh?
Disgusting, ha.
It's unheard of.
A faker, huh?
You're mad, my dear woman, mad.
- Rosine, where are you?
Oh, Rosina.
Rosina, where you gone?
Rosine.
- Concetta Paterno.
(suspenseful music)
It seems that it's two years now
that you've been
going around town
saying you're going to kill me.
Am I supposed to believe
that, signora, huh?
(laughing)
Where you running?
Wait.
Over here, Concetta Paterno.
(gun fires)
(grunts)
Think I didn't notice what a
nice woman you are, signora?
Angeluzzo Paterno wasn't
good enough for you.
Go on, shoot.
And when you run out,
I'll let you feel what's
like to have a real lover.
(gun fires)
The shots are over and we
have some fun.
Come here.
You'll love it.
- Murderer.
You snake.
- Come here.
- No.
- Snake, huh?
- [Concetta] Murderer.
- [Vito] Keep still.
What are you gonna do with that,
huh?
(grunting)
- I hate you.
- I'll give it to you good.
- I'll kill you.
- I'll give to you.
What are you doing?
Bitch.
It's gonna hurt.
- What are you doing?
- [Vito] And you're gonna
cry like a cat.
(Titina screaming)
Like a cat, shout, go on.
- No!
(Titina screaming)
(Vito laughing)
- Love is better when it hurts.
When the bitch cry.
- Stop it!
Stop!
- Let go of me!
- [Spallone] You
miserable wretch.
How dare you?
(grunting)
- [Vito] Let go of me, idiot.
There.
Is that what you want, huh?
Is that what you want, huh?
(gun fires)
You bitch.
Here, shoot at him.
(groaning)
The slut.
(motorcycle engine revving)
- Spallo.
Spallone.
Oh, my god.
How do you feel?
(groans)
Huh?
Here.
- Why did you say that I'm
disgusting like the others?
- Forget it.
- Why did you?
I have to know.
Why?
- You remember Caterina?
- Oh, which Caterina?
- You don't even remember her.
She worked in your house
many years ago.
But you don't remember.
- Caterina.
Who is this Caterina?
- She gave you a son.
- A son?
- Yeah, a son, a son.
The little creature was
sent to an orphanage
and that poor girl got
thrown out and spat upon,
and treated like a whore.
Because of that, you
make me sick.
- No, I didn't know anything.
- Naturally, sure, you
had to leave,
you had to go to university,
politics, Socialism, eh.
You couldn't waste your time
with a little peasant girl
you just fooled around with,
huh?
But she needed a job,
what could she do?
You were the young
master of the house,
and she didn't dare say no.
You are disgusting.
- A man is a man, it can happen.
(groaning)
It even happened to Karl Marx,
the founder of Socialism.
- Ah, Socialism.
- Even he,
there was some incident
with his maid,
and he too had a son.
- Did he recognize him?
- No, he couldn't.
- Then he's a shit.
- How do you know
all about that?
Caterina, I mean.
It all happened 30 years ago.
- It was the poor
woman who told me.
I helped her have an abortion.
- Abortion?
- Yeah, abortion, abortion.
A good deed, I call it.
There are three kinds of men:
men, half men, and bastards.
And one should make
children only with a man.
Otherwise, it's far better
to spare those poor creatures
the sight of this rotten world.
- But you could end up in jail.
- And I would go.
I don't give a damn
about the law.
- You are so pure and, pure
and clean like a flame.
(groaning)
- What's the matter?
What's wrong?
Don't scare me.
What is it?
- I'm cold.
I'm so cold.
- Oh.
- If things turn out
badly, put me on a cart,
and take me up on a
mountain, and leave me there.
I've caused enough trouble.
- No, no, what are you saying?
Didn't you save me from
something worse than death?
(muttering)
I'll never leave you, never.
(opera music)
Spallo.
(speaking in foreign language)
What is it, oh my god.
- A little kiss.
- A kiss?
You want a kiss?
From me?
Amore.
Amore.
(moaning)
(grunting)
- [Concetta] What are you doing?
You're choking me.
Spallo, I thought you said
you were dying.
- You brought me back to life.
- No, relax.
Be good, be--
- Oh, what sweet passion,
madness, ecstasy.
You inflamed my blood.
- No, easy, let me go.
- Oh, chaste goddess.
- No.
Angelo.
- Ah, delight.
Amore, infinite ecstasy.
- You mean it?
Amore.
- Ah, honey lips.
Honey lips.
Let me look at you, caress you.
Oh, let me kiss you.
Oh, sweet wonder of creation,
of the sun.
(speaking in foreign language)
Divine spheres.
And you, goddess, sweet
Jezebel, Aphrodite.
- Spallo.
- Vestal divinity.
- Be quiet.
- Font of pleasure.
- Let's do it, but in silence.
(sighs)
Spallo.
Spallo, wake up.
(groaning)
(grunting)
- You brought life back to me.
Oh, Venus.
Venus, naked in Greece.
Fleur-de-lis in my embrace.
- You're talking silly.
Now you gotta go, it's
getting late.
- Amour, amour, amour.
- Spallo, there's a thing
I gotta ask you.
- Less political ideals
which I hold are sacred,
all else, my existence as,
my estate,
I do place at your feet.
- Hmm.
- These beautiful feet,
like petals, rose petals.
- It's very easy.
I want you to forget
what we've done.
You must do it.
- Forget?
No, let's remember, instead,
till we're dead, forever.
(Concetta groans)
- What are you doing,
making poetry?
Spallone.
- Mmm, don't call me Spallone.
I feel as if I'm in
the army again.
- But your name is
Rosario Maria.
- Oh--
- Don't worry.
No names no more, all right.
I'm just a widow.
What I did, I did it for,
to show you my gratitude.
I belong to Angeluzzo,
that's the way it's gonna be.
- Have you gone mad?
Don't you understand that I
love you, Concetta Paterno?
And that our witness is
your husband up there.
He can attest to your virtue.
And if he could speak--
- He'd say, Titina, you
fell in love?
And then, I'd have to say, no.
- It's not possible.
Before, when I held you,
I could tell you
reacted and loved me.
- Ah, yeah, I was weak, weak,
all right?
Weakness without love, though,
is,
Spallo, what happened
never happened, understand?
(gentle music)
- What if I should go
and hang myself?
- It means you're a
son of a bitch
and that you don't love me.
(playful jazzy music)
(speaking in foreign language)
- What's your pay?
- [Boys] Five taris.
- Hm, yeah, the old story.
The years pass, but in
this country,
still the same old shit.
- Who are you?
What do you want?
- On their knees all day long
down in that pit like mice.
And five taris a day is
all they get,
like when I worked here, yeah.
Right in this here mine,
when I was a kid and
that was long ago.
- Hey, what is all this?
Who gave you the
permission to come here?
Who are you?
- It's not the bookkeeper's
fault, he's a good guy, kids.
Yeah, and to prove it,
he wants everybody to
get double pay this week.
(laughing)
- Boh.
- Ain't that right?
You're a real paesan,
real good guy.
- What good guy?
What will I tell the Baron?
- Frankly, I don't know.
Maybe you can say that it
was a miracle by the Madonna.
Or if you prefer, you
can say there was a guy
who was putting the
pressure on you.
The name is Nick Sanmichele.
(gun fires)
- Not bad, eh, Spaventa?
- Nice shot.
- Over here.
- That's the one.
- Here we are.
- Oh, what are you doing?
The bird's mine.
I shot it.
There, you see?
From my gun.
Learn how to shoot
before you hunt.
- Here, take this, I'll
see you later.
Signora Paterno, wait.
Wait, please, I have
to talk to you,
just for a moment, I beg you.
We must talk.
I can't go on like this.
(speaking in foreign language)
No, wait.
(gentle music)
Wait for me.
Wait.
I tried to respect your wishes.
Can I help it if I'm in love?
Concetta.
- I told you to forget it,
stop it.
- I beg you, you must listen.
- We must forget.
- I can't forget.
I can't make believe I
don't love you.
Concetta.
- Go, go.
(singing in foreign language)
Who put that frame around you,
Angeluzzo?
(cheering)
(lively jazzy music)
(speaking in foreign language)
- Nick Sanmichele, the
son of Cucuzzedu, eh.
- Yeah, back from America.
Let's drink, everybody.
I used to dream of this moment.
Feel like crying.
- Nicuzzo.
- Padre.
- [Villager] Nicky.
(laughing)
(speaking in foreign language)
You're back.
- Yeah, from New York.
And look, look what I brought
yous, the Blessed Virgin,
isn't she beautiful?
- Drink, Nicuzzo.
- Thank you very much.
Salute.
Cheers.
Drink up, it's a holiday.
(lively jazzy music)
- What are you doing here?
What do you want?
- Wait a moment.
That's a Jelly Roll song.
Genuine American music.
Wonderful.
- Huh?
(laughing)
- I'm taking a bath.
What do you want?
Get out of here.
- Only you.
Only you don't know who I am,
eh?
Everybody recognizes me.
And yet, you, no.
- I don't know who you are
and I don't give a damn.
- I'm Nick Sanmichele,
Angeluzzo's second cousin.
Don't you remember?
(grunting)
(whistling)
Nicuzzo.
- Nicuzzo, Madonna, you
were just a little kid.
- I came here to say hello
to you before leaving
because I'm returning
to New York,
and there is this big present
for you, this gramophone, hmm?
But I see that maybe I
disturb you here, yeah?
Okay, don't worry.
I'll go to your home and
wait for you there, hmm?
- Wait.
Wait a moment.
Wait.
Nicuzzo.
Nicuzzo.
(speaking in foreign language)
Couldn't you wait?
Nicuzzo, it's really you?
You came back.
Oh, my god, you look like
a millionaire.
- [Nick] Did you like
the flowers?
And the silver frame
I brought you?
- Oh, it was you.
They were beautiful.
God knows how much you spent.
And the frame too, that
you dedicated to Angeluzzo.
The first nice thing anyone
has ever done for him.
Isn't that so, Angeluzzo?
You see, your little
cousin came.
- Hmm.
(speaking in foreign language)
That's right, Angeluzzo,
I've come back here to
say hello to you.
Because now I am an American.
I made a lot of money there.
I got a bar in New York.
Yeah, and now I speak American.
Just think, if you had let
in my place, who knows?
Ah, Christ.
- No, don't say that.
Don't wish that.
- Why not, if it's the truth?
Why can't I?
I loved him too.
- You know what happened.
About the trial and everything?
You know that the bastard who
killed him right under my eyes
is still alive and free?
- Yeah, yeah.
- His name is Vito Acicatena.
- Yeah, we know the facts.
- He's back and he's a
Fascist, and I got no peace.
I got no peace, I got no peace.
- Don't worry about it now.
I just got here.
It's a special day today and
for you I brought flowers,
and for Angeluzzo, did you
read on the frame, huh?
The dedication we wrote?
We'll never forget you.
So, don't worry about it.
Anyway, there's this nice
present for you
from Uncle John from New
York, this gramophone.
You remember Uncle John,
Zio Giovanni?
So, you wanna give me a
little smile now, hmm?
- No.
(speaking in foreign language)
For many years I wanted to cry.
Now he comes along and
I'm supposed to smile.
Take this phone-o-phone
back to America.
I couldn't care less,
understand?
- Okay, so, I'm
leaving tomorrow,
but before I go, you
gotta make me some lasagna
with those little meatballs
inside, huh, like you used to.
You remember, don't you?
Baked lasagna, where you put
in a little basil and garlic.
Okay, I'll see you tomorrow.
- But who invited you?
- You, because I read
it in your eyes.
Okay, I'll see you
tomorrow at 12 o'clock.
- Wait.
The music, what am I gonna
do with that damn machine?
(speaking in foreign language)
Nicuzzo, come back here.
Wait.
Nicuzzo, will you wait a minute?
What's the matter with you?
- [Nick] Don't forget,
lasagna with meatballs.
- Come back here.
- Tomorrow.
- It's time to eat.
(glass clinking)
(groans)
Good for nothing never
here and it's time to eat.
It's time to eat.
Ah, you're finally here.
Maria, his highness has arrived.
What are you doing
with newspaper?
Not to read.
Did you hear me, it's
time to eat.
Are you coming or not?
And cover your mouth when
you yawn, ill-mannered.
What did I ever do to
deserve a son like that?
- Acute
arteriosclerosis at work.
- Cross yourself.
Put the napkin in front of you.
Around your neck,
or you'll get the sauce
all over your shirt.
Ha, you got to explain what
you're doing with this book.
Land to the Peasants.
Ha, the land to who earns it.
You're supposed to be a
landowner, a proprietor,
and you read this thing that
says land to the peasants.
You're an imbecile.
You're totally mad.
Just mad, totally mad.
Maria.
Maria.
- Watch out, Mamma,
'cause I'm going to leave.
- Oh, you're gonna go
away again, eh?
(sneers)
So what else is new?
- Signorino Rosario.
- Thank you.
- You should eat more,
you look sick.
You're so run-down, eat, eat.
You're all full of wrinkles,
dried up, skinny, obnoxious.
You make me feel ashamed.
And don't drink.
Stop it, don't drink,
don't drink.
Stop it, I said.
I said don't smudge.
You're gonna smudge yourself.
Listen to your mother.
- My mother?
- Eh.
- But the truth is that I want
to have sauce all over me.
All right?
- Oh, look at the poor thing.
He thinks he's being cute,
imbecile.
(groaning)
I'm warning you.
I'm gonna have you committed
if you continue like this.
- Ah.
- In an asylum.
- Believe me, I'll
consider it a vacation,
but you better do it right away
because I'm about to sell
the Saint Agatha orchards.
- You out of your mind?
I mean, you're joking.
- No, no.
- Oh, my god, you want me to
have a stroke this instant?
- Possibly, but nothing
can kill you.
- Then it's true.
You're gonna sell.
- Yes, it's true,
I made the deal.
I need the money because
I'm going to present myself
to the electorate as a
Socialist deputy.
A deputy who says the
land to the peasants.
(wheezing)
Oh, fine, now try to have
a nice stroke.
- May I come in?
Is anybody here?
There's nobody here.
Excuse me, sir, are
non-members allowed?
- Certainly, certainly.
Why don't you take a seat?
- Thank you, I ask because
on the door outside
it says for members
only, so I didn't know.
I may have said to
myself, what should I do?
I should enter, I
should not enter,
I don't wanna disturb
nobody, you know what I mean?
- Come in, but be quiet,
silence, please.
- Oh, yes, sorry.
Thank you, sir.
With your permission.
- Chip.
- Mm.
- I'm in.
- Ahem.
- 10 liras.
- Mm.
- No, I pass.
- Rosario, are you bluffing
or are you out to
ruin me tonight?
I keep losing here.
- Bet, Lucio, go ahead.
- Yeah, go ahead,
he keeps betting like a nut.
Let me think a little.
You're really a big pain in
the ass tonight, you know.
- Excuse me.
- Mm?
- Would you like to sell?
Is it okay if I take
over his game?
- What do you mean?
- Well, we do this a
lot in America.
- Do what?
- I take over your game
and, consequently, I
pay your losses.
You know what I mean?
I'm buying the right,
the right to play in your
place, if you want to.
- I don't mind.
The only trouble is you
should be informed
I'm losing more than 120 liras.
For me it's all right,
it's up to you, Rosario.
He's taking all the losses,
what difference does it make?
Don't you think, Rosario?
Won't you sit down?
- Thank you, thank you.
Okay.
Well, hey, kid, come over here.
How about a little drink, huh?
- No, thanks.
- [Nick] Let me offer
you a drink.
How about you?
- No, I don't drink, thanks.
- All right, a cognac for
me, kid, huh, hurry up.
Oh, well, then.
Let's see the way things stand.
Pair of sevens, pair of eights,
and my possible straight.
Want to do something more
exciting tonight, hmm?
You bet 10 liras.
What do you say we raise it 100?
(speaking in foreign language)
- [Ciccio] No, I'm out.
- [Nick] You staying in,
pair of sevens?
- It's too heavy.
Not for me, thanks.
- Jack, ace, king bets 100,
quite a sum.
You're accustomed to betting
on a higher level in America.
But not to make you feel
you're among a bunch
of provincial Italians,
not only I see you for
100, but I raise you 500.
- Rosario, 500?
- 500, you heard me.
- We'll never remember all this.
I better write it down.
- Deal 'em out.
Queen with a pair of
eights, and a pair of aces.
- Bet, aces bet.
- Yes, sir.
Did you establish a limit
here to the betting?
- No, none.
- Ah, okay, wonderful.
All right.
- What do you bet?
- Whatever you got in front
of you plus 1,000, hm?
1,000 it is, then.
- Ciccio, the Saint Agatha
fields and the orchard,
how much are they worth?
- He's gone out of his mind.
- Including livestock and all?
- You gone mad?
- Don't be a ball-breaker.
How much is it all worth?
- I don't know, at least 30,000.
- [Spallone] Naturally,
30,000 liras
is an approximate evaluation,
if you're willing to accept it.
- Of course, aren't we all
gentlemen here?
- I don't know, if the bet
is a little over your head.
- I am at your service.
- Well, all right.
- Even the whole 30,000
is okay with me.
(sighs)
- All right, 30,000 is the
bet, if you wanna stay in.
- Hmm, okay.
I see you for 30,000.
- Three eights.
- Hmm, I'm sorry.
- Man, he's got three aces.
- Well, that's the breaks.
- He's ruined you, my god.
I mean, what's the matter with
you, you drunk, you got mad?
What the hell were you doing?
- Having some fun.
Isn't a gentleman
entitled to a little fun?
- I'm really sorry if this
is a big problem for you.
Don't worry, let's forget
about it, huh?
How about if we cancel the bet?
I don't wanna cause
you any trouble.
- Me, trouble?
You don't seem to understand,
Mr. America.
I can double the stakes.
- Rosario.
- You see the palazzo out
in the square?
I can throw that in to boot,
if you still wanna play.
- Rosario, please.
- That's enough now.
- Excuse me, but let the
lawyer make up his own mind.
He's a lawyer, he don't
need a wet nurse.
Do you wanna play, huh?
- Yes, I want to play, come on.
- Hmm.
- Wonderful, generous, noble,
and out of your mind, great.
But you're missing a
fundamental quality
to be a real card player, Mr.
Lawyer, and you know what?
Nose.
I took your nose.
Just like I took the third
ace out of my sleeve.
I cheated.
(gasps)
- You are a cheat.
- Eh, yes, sir.
But I don't do it for a living.
It's just to have some fun.
But it's no fun with you.
And you know why?
Because you're too
much of a kid.
You're really dumb.
(groans)
- You bastard.
- No, you can't say that.
If I was a bastard,
if I was a bastard, I'd have
made you lose your shirt
and your dirty underwear
too, Mr. Lawyer Spallone.
- You scum.
- Keep your eyes open next time.
Heh, gentlemen.
- Why, you little--
- No, Rosario.
Control yourself.
- Yeah, listen, sonny.
Instead of being insulting,
you ought to say thanks to me.
That's what you ought to say.
- Let him go, let him go,
Rosario.
- Au revoir, Rosario Maria.
- Ah, no, put me down.
- Yeah, yeah.
(laughing)
- [Peppina] Bad boy, no.
(Nick humming)
- Put her down.
Are you crazy?
Put her down.
Stop it.
- Put me down.
- You're gonna put
her down or not?
- Where?
- Over there.
- Yeah, okay, tootsie,
okay, nice and easy.
(whistling)
- Ah, the lawyer again.
- [Spallone] Looks like
you're having a feast.
Am I right or wrong, am
I right or wrong, eh?
- [Concetta] What the
hell do you care?
- [Spallone] No, it's
just that I didn't know.
- Then what did you
come for anyway?
- I smelled something wonderful.
Meatloaf?
- No, it's lasagna
with meatballs.
- A fantastic perfume.
Perhaps I'm being indiscreet
seeing as you are having a
family reunion, but Donna
Titina.
- [Concetta] Ah.
- Would you not honor me by
requesting that I join you, hmm?
- Come, sit.
Sit down.
- My sincerest thanks.
Here's to us.
(gasps)
- Hey, our lawyer is a
real nice guy, isn't he?
Are you sure you are the
son of Don Alfio Spallone?
- Mm-hmm.
- That's strange because
your father, instead,
he used to push everybody
around, especially his peasants,
like my father.
- Oh, I didn't know about that.
- Yeah, but one day, my father
got pissed off at your father
and faced him with a
knife in his hand.
And you know what your father
said then to my father?
"Bad times," he said,
"when an honest man
"can't even kick his own
peasants around anymore."
- Really?
He said that to him?
- Yeah, that's what he said.
- He did well.
Your father did very
well to rebel like that.
A man full of dignity.
- Yeah, a dead man
full of dignity.
Because after that, your father
told him where he could go.
And so, my father had to
work in the sulfur mine.
Ah, I wish that knife had
been in my hand.
If you knew how I hated
my father, poor old guy,
afraid, destroyed,
because he didn't knife your
father when he should have.
Then he got sick, he
caught the miner's disease
and died within a year.
(playful jazzy music)
- That's frightening,
it's tragic.
I feel guilty for my father.
- It wasn't your fault.
Here.
- At 16 I left home and
became an Anarchist.
- [Nick] What the hell for?
- Just go against my father.
- Ah.
- You hated your father.
He hated his father.
And I hated my mother.
- That's good.
- We all grew up hating.
- Wonderful.
Hate is a good teacher.
It's one of the best.
(laughing)
Look at us, for instance.
With hate in your belly,
you grow strong.
It's our force.
(laughing)
(suspenseful music)
- [Concetta] It's me, open up.
No, nobody saw me, don't worry.
(groaning)
Shh, quiet, quiet.
They mustn't hear us.
(lively jazzy music)
(chuckles)
What are you doing there?
- Oh, nothing special.
I just wanted to know how
much you charge.
I can pay you good.
I can even pay you with
dollars, if you want.
- [Concetta] What a pity.
- And to think no one
suspected anything, either.
Concetta Paterno, even in
New York they know about her.
The widow with a rifle.
The faithful and revengeful lady
who swore that she'd get
her husband's killer.
But instead,
you are the town's secret whore.
Come here, let's have a drink.
Hmm?
(laughing)
With a riffle, shit.
- Get dressed and get
out of here.
Come on.
- What's the matter?
Did I make the lady feel bad?
How's it possible?
For a woman who gets
around like you do.
- Forget it, nothing
has happened.
I don't wanna see you anymore.
- And why is it good for
the others and not for me?
A relative, if anything,
has more right, no?
You think that your dear
departed up there
will suffer to see you, huh?
Don't worry about it.
I bet he'd be happy to
see, with his own eyes,
what a whore his wife
has turned into.
I offer $200.
I'm ready, come and get it.
- [Concetta] Oh, you filthy pig.
- [Nick] What do you
think you're doing?
- Out of my house, out.
- Gimme that gun.
- Don't you touch me.
- I'll show you.
- You animal!
(clattering)
Get out.
Get away from me.
- I'll show you.
(groans)
- Get out.
- [Nick] You pulled my hair out.
(screaming)
- [Concetta] Let me go.
(grunting)
No, no, no more.
- Come here.
- [Concetta] What are you doing?
What are you doing?
- [Nick] Ah, you don't
know what I'm doing, huh?
- Take your hands off me.
- Keep still (speaking
in foreign language).
(grunting)
Goddamn whore.
(speaking in foreign language)
Keep still.
And what's this?
(fabric rips)
And now I show you.
- God, no, no.
(breathing heavily)
- And to think I had
so much respect for you
as if you were the
Blessed Virgin Mary.
You don't even know,
but you got into my blood
a long time ago,
when I was a little kid.
But Angeluzzo was like a
brother to me,
and I felt like Cain
because I wanted you.
Tell me, who was in that house?
You went there like a
bitch in heat.
Tell me, who was in there?
Open your eyes, look at me.
Who was in there?
- I was with a poor woman.
She needed an abortion.
- What the hell are you saying?
- What the hell am I saying?
What I'm saying?
Take a look, she's still
sitting there.
(cries)
- An abortion.
(gentle music)
You've got to forgive me.
I beg you, you've got
to forgive me.
You've got to forgive me.
You've got to.
- Eh.
- Because I've always been,
because I've always been
in love with you.
From the very first day I
respected you,
and you knew I loved you.
I thought I was going
out of my mind.
But, you too, you're crazy
going around giving abortions.
But now, now that I felt
you so strong inside,
you're part of me forever.
(singing in foreign language)
- This is not for us.
It's not for me.
I don't belong to anyone.
It's over, my life is over.
Your life is in America,
and you're still so young.
So young.
- In America,
I killed 25 people.
(gasps)
- [Concetta] Oh, god.
Why?
Why?
- Why, because I had to do it.
It was when they killed
Uncle Nicola.
A guy like Acicatena
sold him down the drain.
And I had to show them we
had the guts to hit back.
It was the only way
to get those bastards to
show us respect.
- My poor Nick.
My poor baby.
You're lost, too, amore mio.
- If you leave me, then
I'll be lost.
I'll be lost for real.
There is this nut in
the government
who invented prohibition.
And that prohibits drinking.
No wine, nothing.
Prohibition for every
kind of alcohol.
Well, now, wouldn't have
you tried to help the people
and let them have a
little drink?
There's no selling
over the counter.
And so, we sell the stuff under.
- But that's like smuggling.
- Yes, sir.
But it's humanitarian.
Humanitarian smugglers.
(laughing)
Besides, when there is a
million dollars involved,
and when even nice ladies
let you pinch their ass,
bootlegging becomes respectable
and it's called business.
Import and export.
And since there is a ship
that we've loaded with booze
that's going to
Genoa and Naples,
and since now, the Fascists
are playing around,
I have to go and check
on the organization.
And so, I'm leaving.
You don't trust me, huh?
I'll be back in about a month
and I'll take you with
me to America.
- My god, what a mess.
It's better you don't return.
- You're a real nut,
widow Paterno.
I'm gonna have to be
real patient with you.
- Eh, to me, sounds like
they want a revolution.
- No, listen, there's
no need for it anymore.
By now, it's clear.
- What is?
- That the king is in
agreement with Mussolini.
They must be in agreement,
otherwise, with all his
troops in Rome,
there would have been
a civil war.
- That's for sure.
- As usual, things will end
with feasting and drinking wine.
- Eh, thank god.
What would you have wanted,
another French revolution?
With guillotines and
heads rolling?
We're better off this way.
- Yeah, feasting and
drinking wine.
(laughing)
- Mussolini as head of state.
I can't imagine it.
What a clown.
- Spallo, King Victor,
Emmanuel, Garibaldi, Mussolini.
The names change, but
here it's always the same,
always the same.
- But don't you realize,
we could end up with an
Acicatena as mayor of this town.
Acicatena.
- At least I'll know where
to find him and shoot him.
Can't you understand only
those kind of people win, hm?
- No.
What a shambles.
My god.
(whistling)
Sounds like Spaventa.
- [Spaventa] Spallone!
- Wait here.
- Spallone, where are you going?
Wait for me.
Wait.
- Finally.
Tutino told me, he said
you were in here.
- What's the matter?
- You're just in time.
- For what, what's---
- A showdown with the Baron,
the peasants, let's get moving.
- A revolt?
- Spallone.
Where are you going?
- There's little time.
- I have to go.
- Everybody's there already.
- I'm sorry.
- Spallo.
- [Spallone] Who organized
this revolt, huh?
- Where is everybody?
They turned chicken.
Christ, I knew it.
- Thank god, instead,
that they didn't show up.
Yeah, you let them
occupy the land and then?
They'll be found guilty and
no one will defend them,
not even in Parliament.
They go to jail.
- Shut up, Spallone,
it was a golden opportunity.
- Yeah, golden opportu--
(groaning)
Goddamn, you idiot, golden
opportunity of my ass.
By losing your heads, you're
not going to gain anything.
The only way to take this land
is through legal procedure.
The law decides.
Only the law can help
you by the legal vote.
But not now that the
Fascists and military
are in cahoots together.
- You're talking like a Fascist.
- [Spallone] Me, a Fascist?
- No, no, don't.
- Get out of here.
A Fascist, huh?
I'll strangle you.
I'll kill you.
Fascist, me, a Fascist.
- Let him go.
- I'll murder you.
(Fascists chanting in
foreign language)
- The Fascists!
Oh, my god, Peppino, come here!
The Fascists!
- Run, Spallone.
- [Woman] Run!
- Acicatena.
- Who is the troublemaker?
This Socialist idiot here.
(laughing)
Out, out, everybody out.
- [Spallone] Why, you bastards.
- The son of a bitch.
Get him.
Hit him.
(grunting)
(groaning)
We'll show what the law is.
Get him up, get him up.
Let everybody see what a
beautiful sight.
Our great and noble Socialist.
Our great lawyer.
Defender of lonely widows.
And generous, too.
Can you imagine, we've
got a landowner here
who squats on other
people's land.
Son of a bitch, you think
you can spit on us, huh?
Who do you think you are?
He hates my guts,
look at his eyes.
Sounds like he wants
to throw up.
Yeah, well, we got something
to pump the hate out of him,
isn't that right?
Castor oil, a funnel, and
we pour it down his gullet
until he drowns in his own shit.
Drink up, lawyer.
- [Mother] I don't want
that slut coming in my home.
I don't want her, understand?
- Keep her out, keep her out.
You can't go in.
- Get out of my way.
- You can't go in.
- Let me through.
- No, no, signora.
- Where is he, Spallo?
(gasps)
- Didn't I tell you?
It's embarrassing for him.
They filled him with castor oil.
Every 10 minutes he has to.
He should be through
by now, wait a minute.
Yeah, Maria, Maria, take
that chamberpot, go on.
(Spallone groaning)
Move.
Come, signora, you can go
in now, go in.
- Spallo.
- No, please.
(speaking in foreign language)
Go away.
- Spallo.
- No, leave me alone.
- Who did it?
- It's humiliating.
- It was Acicatena, eh,
that worm.
They all ganged up, huh?
Spallo, look at me.
And it was all my fault,
because of me.
- What humiliation,
what a failure.
- Won't you even look at me?
- You once said there are
men, half men, and bastards.
I, where do I fit in with your--
- Shh, stop it.
Don't talk like that.
- Ah, useless, full of
dreams and vain ideals.
I don't know how to live,
how to sustain a struggle.
Nothing, I'm just nothing.
And that son of mine.
I was thinking of him last
night coming back from Rome.
He would be 30 years old.
Who knows what's become of him?
I make myself sick,
I'm a failure.
- What are you saying?
What failure, useless.
You know you are, you
are for me--
- No, no, you're being sweet
only because you pity me.
- No, no.
No, I love you.
Because you're clean
and generous and strong
like a real man.
And you respect all
god's creatures.
(gentle guitar music)
How did it happen?
(speaking in foreign language)
Angelu, what do I know?
Oh, I know how it happens, eh?
I know you think that.
In other words, you're saying
that I was always a whore.
Just a stinking whore.
But we didn't notice it,
that's all.
And now you sit there and smile.
Eh, smile, smile, your wife is
a, ah, Angeluzzo, Angeluzzo,
I'm no better than my mother.
I thought I was a good woman,
but no.
All of a sudden I'm dirt
because I followed my heart.
Is it my fault if I
love them both?
Now, if that means I'm a
stinking whore,
well, what can I tell you?
It's god's truth and amen.
(chickens clucking)
- Hold it.
- Oh, my love, it's you.
You've come back, finally.
- Crazy woman.
- You're back.
- You were crazy when I left
and now you're still crazy.
What's the matter with you?
Wanna shoot me, huh?
- No.
- Who did you think I was, hmm?
Acicatena?
Tell the truth.
- This morning he almost
killed Spallone.
He found out he was
back from Rome.
If I had known, I
would have gone
and I would have shot
that bastard.
- Ah, come on.
- Ah, it's terrible.
- Now stop talking about it.
I'm back now.
Everything is okay, don't worry.
No.
(gentle guitar music)
Two months away from
this crazy woman.
- Amore.
Amore mio.
(breathing heavily)
Oh, my god.
No.
Oh, you turn me to butter
and I should be strong.
Don't make me act this way.
Oh, you make me lose my
self respect.
- Respect?
Wherever I went this
month, to Genoa, Naples,
I kept you here.
Look, your papers, see?
Your passport.
- A passport?
- Yes, you're coming with
me to America.
Huh, you will?
Huh?
You'll come with me.
- I think I'm going
to have a baby.
(gentle guitar music)
- A baby?
My baby.
- And I think it's
Spallone's baby.
Let go of me.
(screams)
You're crazy.
Oh, my god.
(crying)
- You could have at
least told me.
But you said nothing.
If you had told me, I
would have understood
and forgiven you.
- Forgive what, Spallone?
What do you know about him?
Did you know that
Acicatena was raping me
and he risked his
life to save me?
Did you know that?
- [Nick] What are you
talking about, huh?
- It was to thank him.
- What the hell has thanking
got to do with your honor?
- Honor?
What honor?
And killing 25 people,
what's that?
Honor or dishonor?
- Only one time?
I gotta know.
Answer me.
Once?
Then why is it his?
Tell me the truth, is it mine?
Because if it's my son
and you don't tell me,
that means you really take
me for a no good killer.
- I'm the mother, only I know.
It's his baby.
And I don't even know if I
want to go through with it.
- Does he know, hmm?
(Fascists chanting in
foreign language)
- Listen, you hear them?
Listen to the way they
carry on, those idiots.
Excuse me a minute.
Who knows what they're up to.
Ah, there they are, and
there's nobody to stop them.
Not a policeman in sight,
look at that.
Heh, and look at
Acicatena leading the way.
- Acicatena.
- Look at him.
And you know where
they're heading?
For the old amphitheater.
Rosario, what are you doing?
You gone mad?
- [Acicatena] Don't worry
if we eat a little cheese,
sheepherder.
- My respects, it's an
honor to serve you.
Eat as much as you like.
- Good man, the Baron
will be very happy
that you offered us some
of his cheese.
The Baron knows me well.
Vito Acicatena has always
looked out for the Baron.
I used to defend his
property with a rifle.
Now I use my Fascisti.
We, black-shirted guards,
brought law and order here.
And we'll keep the order
like good boys,
(gun fires)
like bad boys,
(gun fires)
or very bad boys.
(gun fires)
All right?
(Nick applauding)
- [Nick] Bravo!
Wonderful!
- Who is that?
- I don't know.
- What's he want?
- My compliments.
Will you allow an ex-paesano
of yours to pay his respects?
(laughing)
Okay.
You come right to the
point, short and sweet.
I don't think a Socialist
is gonna show his
face around here.
You make them all fly away,
bravo!
You got brains, you got
bullets, and you got balls.
- Excuse me, but with whom
do I have the pleasure?
- Allow me to introduce myself.
I'm Nick Sanmichele
from New York.
I am American, and in
America, we love Mussolini.
Yeah, we love him a lot.
It's fantastic the way
you teach respect, great.
I gotta tell the paesans
back in New York about this.
- Ah, I'm on to you now.
Am I right, you said
Nick Sanmichele?
- [Nick] From New York.
- So where have you been?
We thought you were gone after
you caused all that trouble
at the sulfur mine.
They passed your name on to us.
You went around putting
strange ideas
in the heads of those kids.
- Me?
- [Acicatena] Nick Sanmichele,
yeah.
- What do you take me for,
a Socialist?
I am an American.
- Well, since you're
not a Socialist,
why don't you go mind
your own lousy business?
You can talk like
that in America.
Here, we don't like
troublemakers.
- Me, a troublemaker?
(chuckles)
Just because I passed out
a few presents
to the those little
kids in the sulfur mine?
No, I made them glad.
- You go do that sort of
thing there in America,
but not over here.
- Why not?
- Because no.
- I like it.
You got real class.
You don't give a shit.
I think you and me ought to
have a little talk together.
- You and me, what for?
- Hmm, who knows, we might
hit it off nice together.
You feel like
going for a little ride
with me, signor Acicatena?
We go in my automobile.
- If you don't mind, I don't
particularly like rides.
For me, it's better
to go walking,
that is, if you don't mind.
And if you should mind,
if you should mind,
that's all right too.
- Eh, what can I say?
These Black Shirts, they
go right to the point.
Wanna go for the ride?
Don't you trust me?
Or are you afraid?
- Afraid?
Me, afraid?
(laughing)
Hey, did you hear what
this guy asked me?
If I'm afraid.
(laughing)
Vito Acicatena here is not
afraid of you or anybody else.
Did you hear that, is
Vito Acicatena afraid?
(laughing)
The eventuality is that you
are probably afraid of me.
Maybe we ought to tell him, huh?
- [Fascist] You fool
around with Acicatena,
you'll hang by your balls,
understand, Americano?
- Okay, so he's not afraid.
Then let's go, you ready?
- I'm ready.
- That's the spirit, here we go.
It's up there.
- Wait for me here, boys.
- Vito Acicatena!
- [Fascist] Look out, Vito!
(guns fire)
- Jesus Christ, what the fuck?
- Hurry up,
let's get up there.
- Get him before he gets away.
- Up there, there he is.
- Look out, Piero!
(guns firing)
(groans)
- [Fascist] Let him go,
let him go, get up there!
- Get the hell back.
- Shoot, shoot!
- [Nick] Get back!
(groans)
- [Fascist] I got him,
I got him.
Vito!
Acicatena!
- What the fuck (speaking in
foreign language) you doing?
Get back up there, huh.
Get back.
- Get down, get down!
- Hurry up.
(gun fires)
(groans)
(gasping)
- [Fascist] Acicatena!
- Stop, I have to vomit.
- You can vomit later.
There is no time now, dumb
son of a bitch.
(gentle music)
Hurry up, come on.
- Huh?
- That dumb son of a
bitch ruined everything.
- What?
- We gotta get out.
Move, move, come on.
- What's the matter?
- Eh, what's the matter.
He shot Acicatena,
that's what's the matter.
- Acicatena?
- Yeah, in front of everybody.
Move, get what you need.
And make it quick.
- Madonna.
- [Nick] Hurry up, we've
gotta go away.
- Go away for what?
- [Nick] To live, goddammit.
The show is over, understand?
- [Concetta] What are you
saying, Nicuzzo?
- [Nick] We're
playing for keeps.
No more fooling around,
you understand?
- [Concetta] I understand,
I understand,
but what am I supposed to do?
- What's the matter with you,
hurry up.
- But what should I
get, hurry up, hurry up.
But for what?
- Shut up, (speaking in
foreign language)
Just hurry up and get
what you need.
- But tell me what happened,
at least.
- A fucking mess, that's what.
- [Concetta] Who did the
shooting, what happened?
- [Nick] Spallone comes out
waving a gun like an idiot.
- [Spallone] Titina.
- Spallone.
- What's the matter with you?
- Spallone, oh, Madonna,
he's hurt, Nicuzzo.
- [Nick] Too bad he isn't dead.
- [Concetta] Sit down,
what did you do?
- You were supposed to
stay in the car.
- You're wounded.
- Why do you make him
kiss your hands?
This stupid bastard here.
I had to kill three people
just because of him.
And everybody saw it.
(speaking in foreign language)
- Stop insulting me.
- Insulting you?
Why, not even a fucking
Turk could insult you.
Son of a bitch.
- No, no.
- You think killing a
man is easy?
Well, it's not.
- Be good.
- Where did you think you were?
Playing cards in your lousy
club for members only?
Or else playing politician?
- I've never killed before.
- We could see that.
- You gotta stop.
- Because killing, that's
for guys with guts.
- Don't be like that.
- And you have no guts, Mr.
Spallone.
You're a nothing man.
- You're out of your mind.
What's the matter with you?
- Get out, you.
Wait outside.
- Wait a minute.
- Why, you miserable.
- No, stop.
- I will murder you.
- Stop!
- I'll murder him.
I'll kill him!
- [Nick] You're crazy, you
son of a bitch.
(grunting)
(groaning)
- [Spallone] Get out of the way.
- [Concetta] What are you doing?
For god's sake, stop!
- [Spallone] You're going down!
- [Nick] This guy's crazy.
Get him off me, maniac.
- I'm a nothing man, huh?
- Leave me.
- That's enough.
- Out, out I said.
You idiot, you got me
from the back, huh?
- [Nick] What are you doing?
- Dirty, you sneak up
from the back.
- Shut up, and look
what you did.
(speaking in foreign language)
What the fuck, you don't
push a woman in that state.
- In that state?
In what state?
- [Nick] In her condition,
can't you see?
- No, you don't say nothing.
Quiet, not a word.
I want to tell him.
- Tell me what?
What do you have to tell me?
- I'm going to have a baby.
- A baby?
- Hey, don't get carried away.
She says it's your baby, but
she loves me, you understand?
She's more than a wife for me.
And if anyone lays a
finger on her,
he will get skinned,
you got that?
Understand?
- Yes.
- Disgusting.
What are you, a faggot?
For Christ's sake!
She loves me, understand?
She's practically my wife.
- My child.
Jesus Christ, can you imagine?
I have a child!
- What are you doing?
(speaking in foreign language)
- Nicuzzo.
Somebody's coming.
- Hurry up, get your stuff.
- Yeah, yeah.
- Move, move.
- Amour.
Thank you, my love.
You don't know what
this means to me.
- Here, hurry up.
- Yes, yes.
Oh, my love, a baby.
My own child.
- Listen, you better
know right now.
The baby is his, not yours.
It belongs to him.
But I don't want him to know,
understand?
- To him?
- Him.
- What's he got to do with the,
well?
- What are you doing now?
Get in the car.
They're coming.
Hurry up.
- Let's go.
- I don't believe it.
- Then don't believe it.
Shh, he's coming down.
(gentle music)
- Get in, get in.
(speaking in foreign language)
I got the new passports.
I had to buy them from
three emigrants.
Our names are on the
blacklist now.
- But then those poor wretches,
they won't be able to leave
without their documents.
- I got wise to it all
when I made my first trip.
Look at them.
Poor miserable people.
All their lives they paid for
everything with their blood.
Food, clothes, a place to sleep.
And don't think it gets any
better over there in America.
Over there, if you're not on
top, you haven't got a chance.
And only if you're on top,
maybe you can give some
poor bastard a hand.
But remember, that hand has
got to hold a gun in it.
- In a Socialist world,
it wouldn't be that way.
(scoffs)
- Okay, then you go live
in your Socialist world
'cause we're going to America.
Anyway, I gotta hurry up, I
gotta get the passports stamped.
Don't move, wait here,
I'll be right back.
- Wait, I don't want--
- Spallo, it's true.
Those three people,
they won't leave,
but you risk being shot.
- But I can't, I
don't accept it.
I don't want to buy my liberty
betraying poor emigrants.
There must be another way.
I'm going to stop him.
- Spallo, wait a minute.
(gentle music)
Spallo.
(groans)
- Signora, you feel sick?
- No, no, I feel better now.
I feel better.
- That's good.
Ah, it's no fun
traveling like this.
Me too, look, three months.
I saw you before, talking
to your husband.
Excuse me, signora, but
which one is he?
The guy that's got the passport
or the guy that's got
no passport?
- Here, this was my husband.
He died three years ago.
- Ah.
- Eh.
- Eh, what are you gonna do?
Listen, signora, are you
worried because of the baby?
Maybe I can help you.
There is this Calabrian
woman, she's a midwife.
She can help you get
rid of the baby.
- No, it's not the baby
I must free myself from.
I must go now.
Oh, god.
(screaming)
- [Fascist] Run, run!
There are Anarchists in here
and they're carrying bombs!
- There he is.
- They're carrying bombs!
Look out!
Two men and a woman!
- Help me, I gotta get.
- [Fascist] There are
Anarchists with bombs among you!
- Titina!
- They're hiding bombs!
Hey, hey, look.
Look out, two men and
a woman carrying bombs!
There, look, there he is with
the bandage, he's got a bomb!
- [Spallone] That's not true,
no, listen.
It's not true.
- That's him, that's him.
Run, run, he's got a bomb!
Look out, run!
- No, it's not true, I
have no bomb.
I am a Socialist.
A free man.
I am not a criminal.
- He's got a bomb!
- I gotta get out.
- Acicatena.
- Get down!
Get down!
- You can't bear the
sight of a free man, huh?
Go on, then.
Shoot on a defenseless man,
go ahead.
Go ahead!
(wheezing)
Murderers.
I'm not afraid.
- Give me.
- Shoot!
- Look out, look out!
- Go ahead, you cowards.
(gun fires)
- Your last fight.
(guns firing)
(groaning)
- Amore!
(opera music)
(sniffles)
The child is yours.
The child is yours.
The child is yours.
I love you, believe me.
I love you, amore mio.