Good News (1979) - full transcript

GOOD NEWS

Fedora?

Is it good here?

Or do you prefer it here?

We need to get this right.

What shall I do?

The lights!

Fedora! The lights are fading!

Fedora!

They're they go!

They've gone out.



Fedora! A blackout!

Fedora?

Fedora! Where are you?
Don't hide.

Come on, you know…

you know I'm afraid of the dark.
Fedora!

Damn, they want to raise the gas!

So they can use atomic power.

The television seems dead.

Why give us television,
if there's no electricity? Fedora!

It's extortion!

Yes. They want to turn us
back into cavemen.

Just look, it looks like a tomb.

A sepulcher!

I'm already cold. Fedora!



The crystal picture window!

The pain! Damn them, the pain…

Thieves! Thieves of the State!

They want to punish us.
We are naughty.

They want to raise the cost
of electricity, I know it!

Fedora?

Where are you?

Stop hiding, please.

Where…?

Who's there?

It's you? Why didn't you answer?
Where were you?

You were really afraid?

Why? Couldn't you tell?

Fedora!

I seem to be like a ghost.

I'm sure of it. Certain.

At least in this house,
my ghost will stay. Yours too.

After death. Kiss me.

Did you get resurrected?

Fedora! Let's make love.

With ghosts! Here in the dark,
on the ground, in the air!

Now? No! I have to work!
I must correct tomorrow's homework.

Please! Tomorrow, I'm substituting!
- Fedora!

If we don't take advantage of this
blackout, when can we? - Tomorrow!

Black outs are beautiful!
- No, ugly! Let go!

Long live black outs!

A new deadly, bloody,
political assassination attack,

was committed last night
during the blackout,

in a crowded street
in the center of the Capital.

The noted Roman political figure,
the builder Fernando Proietti

getting out of his car, was approached
by two men dressed as policemen

who fired 11 shots
without silencers.

Shot in the head and neck,

the politician fell on his
steering wheel, dying instantly.

325, I'm in a meeting.

Funeral in Catania.

Coaxial.

Grade 11.

They say it'll be repeated tonight.
Tomorrow too.

Maybe the day after tomorrow.

Not in the 9 time slot.
The 8 time slot.

I'm in a meeting.

The investigators have advanced serious
doubts on the signature's authenticity,

never before seen in
the crowded scene of terrorism.

Meanwhile, a funeral was held today
in Rome for Justice Demetrio Ghia,

barbarously murdered at
the doorstep of the court

by three masked men.

No terrorist group has
claimed the attack so far.

It is suspected that the judge
was a victim of those financial groups,

against whom in the past, he delivered
more than one judicial decision.

Let's pass now to
the deadly series of attacks

which have rocked
many Italian cities last night

during the long and
stressful blackout.

Bombs and bottle bombs

were thrown in Rome
against some gynecological offices.

In Turin and Padua,
terrorists targeted

two tax headquarters
of the Guardia di Finanza.

While in Genoa,
a bath house near the station

was almost completely destroyed.

There were attacks also
in the provinces of Pisa…,

Who is it?
- Me.

At Cologno Monzese, a powerful
explosion has devastated the area…

An anonymous call: a bomb.
Leave the building.

The chain reaction of violence,
began in Rome, where after 9:30,

a bomb exploded in front of…
- With pleasure.

…an elementary school in
the populous Trionfale quarter.

An egg should be made with butter!
- No, dear, you need oil!

It doesn't compare to
the American style who use bacon.

Hey!

Hey!

What's the matter with you?

I'll kick your ass!

Here they are!

The cavalry has arrived!

Move along! Move along! Come on!

Move away!

Move away!

Are you saying that's her?
- I think so.

Should we check it out?
- No, let's stay here.

An extra large strawberry cone!

You look so black.

Yes, you really do look black.

You woke up with a black heart.
It's obvious.

It's as if you were really
dying to hurt someone.

What the fuck are you talking about?

Have you chosen
the person you want to hurt?

I don't know why the fuck
we're still together.

How you grumble!
- We don't want kids.

Because they'd be unhappy.

Our sexual relationship…

is dreary and random.

There's only the problem of how
to share material goods

because of the odd number.
Three: the fridge, the TV, the stereo.

And my trailer?
- Mine.

The coffee's in the kitchen,
so go get it yourself.

Will you tell me,
why the fuck we're together?

Don't you know the value of freedom?

Why go on blindly in error?

You see?
You've finally chosen the person.

What person?
- The person to hurt. You chose me.

You know why you chose me?

Because you're here.
If there were another, I had chosen her.

Instead, it's you. I hafta make do.

No, it's not because of that.
- Then why?

It's because you always hurt
the people who love you the most.

Idiot! What's so funny?

Words!

Fuck! Just words!

Also today in
the Santa di Camero Hospital

was recorded the deaths
of another three victims

of a mysterious respiratory ailment

which for days has been manifesting
in the area's inhabitants.

Is that you, Tignetti?
I must speak to you.

What "when?" Right now.
It's urgent.

Let's hear it. What is it?
- Tignetti, don't be impatient.

It's very delicate business.

Tignetti…

You know that death is inevitable?

Are you sick?
- Yes or no?

Yes, I know.

Exactly. Me too. Have a seat.

Well then?
- Well then, if you think it over,

a man only asks to know
a few things before he dies.

At least, I think so.
- OK. Go on.

Tignetti, before I die,

I simply want to know
why women don't like me.

What do you have to say about that?

I'm thinking.

That's fair.
The question is very important.

But you see, I would need
to see some more evidence.

Of course.
Right away, Tignetti.

Yes, Tignetti, I'm sure of it:

When I get near one of you,
I feel embarrassed.

I feel sick. I suffer like a madman
and do you know why?

No.
- Excuse me.

Why do you look at me as if…

I were a stranger? Different?

Not human? You understand?

An alien? An inferior race?

Whereas you women for me
are the most important thing in life.

After all, what's wrong with me?
- Let's see.

Prepare yourself: There it is!

Is it too short? Too long?

Does it lack personality?
Too aggressive?

What nonsense! It's not that.

I don't say it isn't important
but it's not everything. - What then?

Then what's wrong with me?

My teeth? The color of my eyes?
My hair?

Maybe I stink?

Go on, tell me.

Tell me everything you think,
bravely, without mercy.

Get dressed at least.

What does your wife think?
- We never talk about such things.

She refuses the role of the wife.
She's a child.

She looks unhappy, it's true.

But not anymore than me.

Yet, she married you. She must
have liked you, even if just a bit.

No, she's a pathological case.
A sick woman.

Instead of catching measles,
she caught me.

Besides, why must only wives like us?

There are others! Many others!

Do you realize
how many women there are?

How many…
how many are right here!

There's Maino. Padovani.

And Cicerchia.
- Cicerchia! And Spazzapan.

Vendetti!

Bignardi!
- And Guerra!

Yes, there's Guerra!

Siciliano.

Neroni!
- Ah, beautiful Neroni!

Pecoretti!

And yourself, Tignetti.

Do you like yourself?
- Very much!

No, not at all.

Then why should women like you?

But you Tignetti,
tell the me the truth…

seeing as we've found
a way to be sincere,

do you like me?

Yes.

Then let's make love,
just once before dying.

(mouths) Go fuck yourself.

Won't you reconsider?

Look, I wouldn't give you any,
even if you were dying.

The clash between
police and demonstrators

which shook Milan
since yesterday afternoon,

only came to an end
late in the night.

Despite the many arrests,
made by the police,

some groups of young people,
moving from the center to the suburbs,

engaged the police
in sudden, violent attacks.

Hello?

Yes, speaking.

Gualtiero? Gualtiero who?

Milano?

Gualtiero Milano?

What a pleasure!
How are you, Gualtiero?

It's been so long!

What? Right now? Immediately?

Is it really so urgent?

Well no, today…

is really Sunday, Gualtiero.

I wanted to be
a bit with my wife, poor thing.

We never see each other.

Very well. I understand.

I know where it is:
Cavour Bridge, the Tiber waterfront.

Fedora!

The forensic evidence
of Professor Marotta

has confirmed the collected pieces
by the investigators after the fact.

I'm going down for the paper.

I said I'm going to get the paper.

I'll be back in a half hour.

An hour. Maybe more.

I no longer love you.
I love another woman.

I'll be back tonight.

I'll be back tomorrow.

I'm never coming back.

Gualtiero!
- Oh, finally!

Dear friend!

Some pastry?

No, no. Let's go away.
Let's get away from here.

Where?

There we go.

Are you single?
- No.

I'm married.

My wife's name is…

Ada.

So, why did you call me?

What are you doing?
- You must keep this for me.

If I keep it with me,
I'll wind up killing someone.

I see shadows everywhere.

Who's that over there?

You take this back.
Go on, hide it.

Come on!

Are you a jeweler?
- No.

A bank teller?

A magistrate?
- No.

I'm a high school teacher.
- Just like my wife.

Then why the fuck do you carry a gun?

Do you teach at an alternative school?
- No.

My pupils have a great respect for me.
- Well then?

Whatever might happen to me,
remember this:

You've always been to me
my best friend.

Never forget that.

What the fuck are you saying, Gualtiero?

How am I your best friend? But…

We haven't seen each other for 15 years.

Well, anyway, let's hear this.

Somebody wants to kill me.

I feel that someone wants to kill me.

Do you have proof?
- I knew it! You don't believe it!

And yet, you must believe me!

You know why you don't?

Because I'm not dead yet.

But if they killed me, you'd believe me
and my wife would too!

When it happens,

what will you say then?

Because I know,
I feel that they will do it!

Gualtiero, but who would do it?
- I don't know.

Hold him back! Hold him back!

Calm down!
- Be patient!

Is it possible that you don't realize…

You see?

The dog too.

You want one?

Excuse me, I'm suddenly hungry.

Gualtiero, listen to me,
do you feel at this very moment…

feel that somebody wants to kill you?

More than ever.

Very well. Listen, then…

Let's look at it from another angle.
- Yes, dear.

I got it: Are you still a communist?

No.

Don't tell me you're right wing?

No!

You're still a Jew.
One can't change their race.

Certainly.

But I really do like Arabs.

They're lazy like me.

A jealous husband?

I don't think so.

I wouldn't willingly betray my wife.

You're rich?

Almost poor. My wife is rich.

Her father. A millionaire.

Holy shit! Why are you telling me
that somebody wants to kill you then?

They will.

I feel that somebody…

will kill me.

One night, I was in Via Nazionale.

I was alone on the sidewalk,
the only passer-by.

Suddenly, a car came rushing
towards me at 100 mph.

Did it get you?
- No. It hit a pharmacy.

But just by 20 cm.
It was a Mercedes.

But you weren't killed?
- No, once I went to a restaurant,

"Ciccio, the Oyster" by myself.

I ate the fish: stomach pump!
I barely survived.

Fuck, Gualtiero, don't you know
it's a miracle any of us are alive?

And that's nothing.

I was almost eaten by a dog.

What?
- A dog!

A dog? What kind of dog?

A doberman, Arturo.

Did he attack others?
- Many others.

But they sent me to the hospital.

For fuck's sake, Gualtiero,
I believe that

these things can happen to anybody.

Don't be morbid.

Look!
- What is it?

Drug addicts.
- Heating up heroin!

Don't look! Don't!

I feel death's one step away.
I'm not morbid.

What does Ada think?
- That I'm morbid.

She loves you? - She's innocent,
if that's what you're insinuating.

We've an open relationship.
She goes out whenever she wants.

She loves me like a housecat.

She loves me. We're friends.

My wife is a nymphomaniac.
- And you?

I masturbate.

Well, after all, everyone…

everyone must figure things
out themselves. Let's look.

You know how I pass my time?
I waltz.

Yes, it's the only thing I know
how to do but I do it well.

Gimme the money, you son of a bitch!
- They'll kill him!

They'll kill him for drugs!

Gualtiero!

Take them…
- Gualtiero! - Take them, good!

Gualtiero, are you queer?
- Absolutely not.

Are you sure?
- I'd tell you.

Then why the fuck should they kill you?
- You want to know?

I want them to kill me.

But why?

I won't tell you. Bye.

Now let's take a nice walk to our home.

We'll have a nice bath
and then we'll eat some nice din-din.

And we'll take a nap until 4.

Then we'll go out and go to Aunt
Graziella, who'll give us nice biscuits.

In the last 24 hours,
the cows shot down amount to 1500.

The area of land where
they were buried

has been declared by health officials
uncultivable for a period of 10 years.

A decontamination was started in
all the polluted areas this morning.

Look how much that girl
looks like Benedetta.

Yes, she looks a lot like her.

…have been recovered
from respiratory difficulties.

Why have we never
invited Benedetta over?

Why should we invite Benedetta?

Aren't you friends?

Yes!

Yes, but she plays the great lady.
It's always me slaving in the kitchen.

You know I feel sorry for Bernedetta.

A son at 16 years old, a separation,
two suicide attempts…

And then…

And then she's beautiful.

She's very beautiful.

Why don't you say it?

She's very beautiful!

We pass now, to other news.

In Naples, a funeral took place
for the Deputy Prosecutor…

It's been years
since I've seen a sunset.

What did you say?

Come again?

I said it's been years
since I've seen a sunset.

What?
You've decided to play the romantic?

What the fuck are you saying?
- There it is: I missed it.

You talk of sunsets?

You who are so vulgar?

Because you are vulgar.

I'd say…

vulgar like a fascist.

The fuck are you saying?
Where do fascists fucking come in?

Can you fucking tell me that?

My paper.

I say it because only a fascist would
allow himself to talk the way you do.

"Fuck" is always
on the tip of your tongue.

It's true: I am vulgar.

I'm aware of that. Fuck!

But what can I do?

Son of a bitch!

I don't know how
to express myself otherwise.

Yes, I know, I feel that
I could express myself differently.

But vulgarities come out
of my mouth by themselves.

And if I don't say "fuck",

it's like obeying an internal police.

A censorship board.

And that, for fuck's sake,
I don't think is right.

Asshole! Go fuck yourself!
Fuck! Ass!

You see?

I don't even have
time to think of them…

and they're soon out.

Like a comma.

A semicolon.

A parenthesis.

A period. A paragraph.

But…

not one fucking word of that was true.

If I'm honest with myself,
when I say "fuck",

I don't mean a comma at all.

There's no point in lying.
If I say "fuck", I mean "fuck".

You've said "fuck" 7 times.

Fedora, let's try something.
I'll close my eyes,

think really hard, say "cock"

and we'll see what comes
in my head while I say it.

Cock!

That was no comma.
When I said "cock", I saw a cock.

Let's try some more words.

Get fucked in the ass!

No.

No, for a slight fraction of a second,
I really saw two people butt fucking.

I need these vulgarities.

To defend myself.

Against I don't know what. From…

Maybe from…

spirituality!

Benedetta!

It's almost ready!
Come, set the table!

You see, when I say,
"Get fucked up the ass",

I really see anal sex.
You understand?

No, I don't think so.

And when I say, "cock",

I really see a penis. Believe me,
I tested it last night in bed.

I need vulgarity.

As a defense against spirituality.

You see, dear, at 13,
at 15, at 20 years of age,

I went forward with all
these coarse, strong words

that referred to real things:
smells, strong odors,

excrement, shit, piss,

so that… so that people wouldn't
see inside me how I really was.

Because… because my heart was soft,
gentle and I was afraid that…

they would crush it.

And besides,

I loved to shock people.

There were really people
who were shocked?

You see…

Here's an example.

You… "her"…

What do you call it?
- Almost always "vagina".

I say "cunt".
What's the difference?

"Vagina" isn't derogatory
but "cunt' is.

You think so?

Do you know why maybe
you always say "cock"?

Let's hear it. Why?

Probably because you like cock.

I've always maintained
that we need more agents.

If you listened to me,
we wouldn't be in this mess now!

One moment! Attention!
Silence! Let's proceed with order.

Bernedetta.

Bernedetta, do you hear me?

What is it? What do you want to say?

Let's play.
- Play what?

Hide and seek!
- OK. Let's pick who's "it".

Yes, let's pick. I'll do it.

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,
catch a tiger by the toe!

If he hollers let him go,
eeny, meeny, miny, moe!

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,
Catch a tiger by the toe. You're it.

Me? It was her.

We'll redo it.
- I'm not an idiot!

It's not that! What do I care?
I always lose!

Go on, go hide!
I always get screwed!

Count! Up to 100.
- Up to 30, no more! Up to 30!

No, dear, I'm counting to 35!
- Count, Fedora! Don't look, Fedora!

1, 2, 3,
11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17,

18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 30,

32, 33, 34, 35!

We paid top dollar for
the sheriff and the deputies

and the first time trouble happens,
they tell us to take care of it!

What did we pay them for?

Benedetta!

Over here!

Come on!

What are you doing?
- Gimme a kiss!

I want…
- No, not now!

I want a kiss! I want a kiss…

Not here, it's wrong behind her back!
- Exactly! We're alone, you see.

This is the time, right?

Don't insist, I'm her friend!

Why? Am I not your friend?

This is something only between us!
And If I told you…

that I loved you?

I'd kiss you for a lot less.
You know I can't say no.

I'll kiss you but not now.
- Benedetta! Come out!

I'm not playing anymore!
- Benedetta!

But not behind her back!
It's so vulgar! - Where are you going?

Benedetta! Benedetta!

Not a word, eh?
- Benedetta's hideout!

Another tragic death was reported
earlier today shortly after 9 am

at the post office in
the station in Modena.

A young woman delivered to
Libero Rovatti, a 31 year old clerk,

a package measuring about 20 cm…
- Who's there?

It's me.
- Ah, what is it?

…the clerk becoming suspicious
of a ticking noise decided to notify…

This is for you, Doctor.

Halt! Might this be a bomb?

It does look like it.

A lady brought it.

What does that mean nowadays?

She was beautiful!
- Why does beauty matter?

The firemen intervened
to bring down the flames…

Good luck, eh!

…were able to get the better
of the fire only after several hours.

According to some testimonies
picked up on the spot,

the police are actively searching for
a woman of around 25 years of age.

We pass now to other news:
Numerous episodes of violence…

A truck driver fired
numerous gunshots… - Hello?

This is Ana. Gualtiero's wife.
- A pleasure.

I must see you.
- Me, as well.

When?
- Right away. It's urgent, I beg you.

If I can't speak to you who is
Gualtiero's best friend, who can I?

Naturally. Where are you?

In the garden before
the square where you work.

I'm wearing a mauve coat.

I'm with a German shepherd.

Mauve? - Yes, mauve!
- Yes, mauve. I'll be right there.

Come on! Run! Run! Go get it!

Go on! Get it!

Ma'am?

Ma'am?
- Yes?

You're Ada?

No, dog, no! Sitzt! Dago, sitzt!

Listen…

Don't worry, he's trained!

First of all, I'm giving this back!

Sorry.

Come on, Dago, he's a friend.
Down! Sitzt!

Sitzt! Sitzt!
- Mrs Ada!

Take it back, please.
- It was from Gualtiero…

Dago, sitzt! Sitzt!
Don't act like a retard!

I said he's a friend, didn't I? Sitzt!

Sitzt!
- Sitzt!

The box was a message from Gualtiero.
It's his way of asking for help.

That may be, but Ma'am, you must
know that I'm not… - Call me Ada.

But the dog doesn't want it! See?

You don't need
to raise your voice.

Dago mustn't sense any hostility.
Got it?

Listen, Ma'am, something must
at least be made clear…

Don't move! What are you doing?
Don't run!

You're making the situation worse,
can't you see?

Dago, come here! Behave!

I told you that the gentleman
is the master's best friend.

And he's our friend too, no?
- Listen, Ma'am…

Sitzt, Dago! Sitzt!

Mrs Ada, I knew a boy at school…
- Sitzt!

…Gualtiero, who is undoubtedly
the man who came to me last Sunday,

and the Gualtiero from many years ago.

But now he's completely mad.
He's not the same. You understand?

He's another person.
- Sitzt!

Sitz! You see…

You see, to say that
I know him the best,

I'm missing several
chapters of his life.

The whole second act.

You see, Ma'am,
I'm really not Gualtiero's best friend.

I'm not Gualtiero's best friend.
How else can I tell you?

Sitzt!
- Don't insist!

Is it clear? Is it clear, Ada?
- It's not clear! It's brutal!

That's what it is.
- Sitzt!

No, Ada. Ma'am, excuse me,
but don't do that. The dog…

Don't do that please.
- Call me Ada.

It's about time.

Ada, don't behave so.

You're so young.
I thought you'd be older.

I'm desperate.

Gualtiero came back last
night with a hole in his coat.

I'm sure he shot himself.
But maybe I'm wrong.

He fired the maid yesterday,
accusing her of being a spy, you see?

I understand it all, Ada.
- Sitzt, Dago!

But what do I have to do…
with this nonsense?

What do I have to do with your life?

I'm a stranger.
- Who are those people?

It's a bit crowded here, let's move on.
- You do have something to do with us!

You do, my dear, you do!
Even if you don't know or don't want to!

Because all these years
Gualtiero spoke of nothing but you!

Of how you were so gentle, nice…

and affectionate.
- We were young.

Gualtiero told me you went
to bordellos together.

Is that true?

Well, yes, it's true.

Something else:

He said you were both
in love with the same prostitute.

Is that true?

Is it true or not?

What do whorehouses
have to do with anything?

I only wanted to know if it were true.

Well, yes, if he said so.

You see, Gualtiero has
sunken into a sort of mirage.

He lives with this morbid fixation.

It's like refusing to grow old.

An inoffensive mania.

He said that he still masturbates.
Is that true?

Of course, it's true.
But not in public.

Ah, I wasn't sure.

Even the masturbation
is part of his childish games.

Dirty sleazebag!
- Go fetch!

But in a nutshell,

Gualtiero is quite mad now.

And then the story he tells me,
hardly seems credible.

Do you find it credible, Ana?

It's probably incredible to us
but for him that's the way it is.

He's like a hunted man
in a gangster film.

Like that film by Siodmak.

I suspect that to make his story
more believable, Gualtiero…

might even do himself harm.
Even to the point of killing himself.

That's why I'm afraid. I'm afraid!

Well? We'd better go.

I think Gualtiero is capable
of killing himself to be believed.

My heart breaks but there's only one
way to prevent him from killing himself.

You mean a mental institution?
- A psychiatric clinic, an institution…

And if it's necessary, whatever
it takes, even electric shocks…

Of course, if he's mad, he's mad!

The city is full of clinics and
good doctors. You just need to decide!

We'll do what we can.
We'll do… even electric shocks!

Good. Well said. Then if you agree, come
to my house tomorrow and persuade him.

OK? Then we'll see you tomorrow.

Eh, fine… No, I won't!

Don't shout!
- Hold the dog!

Because I want to shout all I want!
Got it? Hold that dog!

I don't want the responsibility.
I don't like it.

Besides, taking him to the madhouse
is your job. Why the fuck should I go?

Crazy people disgust me!
They make me…

my flesh creep!

But he won't listen to me.
He will you because you're his friend.

You're the only one
who can convince him to go.

Come on, what's behind all this?

You doing it for the money? A setup?

You want a loan? Money?

I'm very wealthy.

And you?

No.
- Sitzt, Dago!

Sitzt!

I want to know you better.
I'll become your friend too in time.

Come to my house tomorrow
but don't follow me now.

Bye.

Come, Dago, let's go.

Ada! Ada!
- Stay there!

Not one step more!
- Why?

Let's go.

Ada…

Who is it?
- It's me.

Open up but lock up the dog.
- Are you alone?

Yes.
- All right. Wait.

Did you lock up the dog?
- The dog's not here.

And Ada? Where is she?

She's out with the dog.

And is she coming back?
- Who knows?

She comes, she goes…
Ada has business with a doctor.

Listen…

This…

This is yours.

One never knows.

You and Ada are in this together.
I know because she told me.

She wants to bring me to the clinic.
Excellent.

Very good. Very good.
Your point of view is a respectable one.

But I'm not mad.

However, as you see,
I want to show you my good will.

I'm almost through packing
even though packing horrifies me.

What? You've…

You went ahead and packed?
- What else should I do?

You want to bring me to a clinic? OK.

I'll gladly go with you.

I have trust in you.

I'm in your hands.

I'll do whatever you want.
But later, will you come to visit me?

What?
- You won't leave me?

Of course not.

However, I warn you and Ada,
the clinic will be the end of me.

My cell of death.
- But…

What are you saying, Gualtiero?

The hospitals of today
are like grand hotels.

Exactly, like the film Grand Hotel:

People come, people go.

They can kill me whenever they want.
I'll be at the mercy of whoever comes in

We'll tell the doorman
to only let in Ada.

And you? You won't come by?
- Me too.

They may have an agent
among the workers.

They could corrupt somebody.

Every injection will seem like poison.

Every nurse, a hitman.

Electroshock!
You want to give me shock treatments?

I wouldn't be surprised.

But…

But "they" could tamper with it.

With all those needles in your head
like the crown of Christ!

What a lovely death! And this
is what they want. - Gualtiero…

Who are "they"?
- Let them have it.

Who else? My enemies, right?

Put in these panties too.

I know what I say sounds incredible.
You don't want me to know your mind?

If you don't believe me, you who are
my only friend… - Shall I close it?

It means my story is truly absurd.

Absurd but true.

Shall we close it?
- This shoe.

Here. Put it in and close the suitcase.

Listen, Gualtiero…
- Yes, dear?

What if I weren't your friend at all?

But you…
do you want to be my friend or not?

Actually, I don't know.

Maybe not.

I'm sorry.

OK, it doesn't matter
if you're not my friend.

You were once.

And then I'm your friend.
Isn't that enough?

Get the suitcase.

And if you're not around?
It'll be a test of our friendship.

Gualtiero, I'm here exclusively
because Ada forced me to.

You like Ada?

Yes. - Then why don't you tell her?
Are you acting shy?

Certainly, I will.
- Want some books?

Take them! Take them!

Poetry, philosophy, sociology,
geography, ornithology!

It's all yours!
- Gualtiero!

But now let's go. Come on.

Hurry up. They're waiting for us.
There's no more time.

Gualtiero, do you know what clinic
we must go to? - Salus Tua Clinic.

Ada and her doctor made a reservation.
- Gualtiero!

Are we sure we don't
want to wait for Ada?

What's the use of that?
You got the nut and the nuthouse.

Telephone.

This is the answering machine
of Gualtiero Milano.

If you want to,
leave a message after the waltz.

Professor Milano prepare your coffin!
Your time has come!

Always the same! For 3 years!

It's a persecution!

It's a joke.
- No!

It's them!

It's them!
- Well…

Gualtiero,

I don't want to go to the clinic.

You want us to wait for Ada?
- Yes.

All right, dear.

Can you dance the waltz?

No.

Do you know what "waltz" means?

No.

It means…

to dance crawling.

In German.

Very interesting.

We think we're just dancing
but instead…

we crawl like worms.

I'd be happy to teach
you how to waltz.

It's nice to dance with men.
It's like dancing with yourself.

Here.

1, 2, 3. That's the rhythm.
1, 2, 3.

You can divide time as you like.

Why should a year have so many days
and there's not one long day?

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.
Lightly! Lightly!

1, 2, 3.
Let's begin again from the start.

When you think it'll change or stop,
it starts all over again.

1, 2, 3. Careful or we'll end up
on the ground, dear. - Sorry.

Step lightly. Try to let yourself go.
Feel how time runs on.

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3…

Excuse me.

Lightly! More lightly!
- And Ada?

Why isn't she coming?
- Ada waltzes very well.

Ada and I won many trophies together.

Gualtiero, I beg you, let me go.
I'm spent.

I'll never be good at waltzing.

I keep crawling and not dancing,
hopelessly. Gualtiero, let me go!

Why should you care?
One can live without learning to waltz.

Are you falling?

It's not over! - What the fuck have
you been doing all these years?

What have I been doing? Doing?

A dozen terrifying seances.
Everything flying:

Chairs, tables, rugs were flying!

I spoke to… 1, 2, 3… Offenbach,
Lehar, Strauss, his whole family!

One time, even with Stalin!
- The sunset…

The sunset!
Let me at least, see the sunset…

What sunset? Get up!

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. 1…

You see?

Ada didn't even show up.

Want some advice?
Don't go looking for her.

She'll call you.

Ada is very busy with the doctors.

With one doctor, to be exact.

Come, let's go.

I'm dying to have a nice electroshock!

Ada sends her thanks.

What did you say?

I said that Ada sends her thanks.

A certain Ada called tonight
and she said with a very sensual voice,

"Thank your husband."

"Tell him, I know how
to be very grateful."

Who is Ada?

Ada is Gualtiero`s wife.

Did you see your sunset today?
- What do you mean?

I'm referring to your postcard sunset.
Did you see it today?

You see, now our roles are changed.

I've become a romantic
and you the cynic.

What the fuck are you saying?

And vulgar too!

Very well.

What do you intend to do?

Get on the right.

No! Why on the right?

The roles have changed, right?
So, let's get on with it.

Get on the right. My place.
- Why? I'm fine here!

What? Didn't you always accuse me

of being so conventional?

So, let's start with the bed!

Bully!
- There, in my place, like a man.

Your typical bullying.

On our honeymoon, it was you who chose
to be on the right and me on the left.

It's always the same crap.

Pass me my stuff.
- Yes, master.

If you please.
- Thanks.

It may just be an impression,
but things look better from your side.

It's true. I feel more womanly.

And you?
- What are you saying?

We're still the same.
Nothing has changed.

If it only were that easy.

But the experiment isn't over,
indeed,

it begins now.

Shall we exchange sexual roles?

Let's just see.

Let's see…

You want to play the man?

Want to play the man?
Climb on top of me.

Climb on top of me…

Go on.

Give me… Get on top of me.
Turn around.

Is it hard to play the man?

You really want me to play the man?

Try it!

That's how you play the man.

Isn't that what you men do?
What were you expecting?

What are you trying to prove, fool?

That you have one and I don't?

And you mustn't stay in that position.

You must turn around, ass in the air.

Get that ass in the air!
Turn around! Turn!

Play the woman.

Play the woman!

Are you scared?

Are you afraid?
- You don't have one.

If you want to be with a man,

then go right ahead.
- You don't have one!

That's your business.
- You don't have one!

You don't have one!

You don't have one…
- I don't.

But starting tomorrow, you're in
the kitchen. And don't bust my balls.

No economic boom for Italy,
according to the ISAP statistics,

but a rise in inflation,
unemployment and consumer prices.

Good day.
- Good day.

Hello.

As you know, there's some
unrest among the employees.

Yes, I know.

And you know why?
- Yes.

Because of the seniority bonuses.

Exactly. We two union representatives
have been going around,

sounding everybody's opinion
regarding the seniority bonuses.

I see.
- What's your opinion?

Please.
- And if I don't have an opinion?

What?

Think about it and get one.
- Please, of course.

You're not obligated to.

If you think it over, you'll see
that you have one. - No, I swear,

I swear that I have no opinion.
And besides,

it's not easy to form an opinion.

The question of seniority…

is a very sad question.
Why talk about it?

It's better to forget it.

What can we do, after all?

Seniority is an incurable illness.

Death…

We all get old. - That's right, Sir!
We all get old. All of us!

But the workers and technicians
age faster and even die earlier

than office workers and managers.
This you know. - Read the stats.

I know that many technicians and workers
don't do a fucking thing all day long here.

We don't do a fucking thing?
- See, you have one too:

an opinion!
- I call it as I see it.

We workers…

seem to have lost a sense of reality
which is bitter, hard.

These are troubled times,
owing to our irresponsibility!

Now is not the time.
- You think so, Doctor?

No, I think everything
must remain as is.

The status quo.

Better yet, the status quo…

from yesterday!
- Yesterday?

You mean the workers, 3?
Technicians, 6? Office workers, 9?

And the managers, 10?
- No, 12.

Right, 12.
- Therefore,

you're saying a manager ages 4 times
faster than a worker. Is that right?

Exactly. A manager has
tremendous responsibilities.

They crush him, annihilate him,
reduce him to a… to a…

a worker! Understand?

Yes.

No.

Look, I'll join the strike.

Thank you.

But on behalf of the managers,
the office workers. - I knew it!

But when all is said and done,
after all, comrades,

you want to save this company or not?

But you're some son of a bitch!
Fascist!

Take him away!
- Don't you see he's a fascist?

Shame on you! Fascist!
- Come on!

Forget about it! Calm down!
- Fascist!

Come here!

Yes?
- Tignetti? Can you come here?

I can't, I'm in a meeting.

Why?
- I've a question to propose to you.

Let's hear it.
- Tignetti, you wouldn't know but…

we men feel sex continually.

Mind, I mean the sex itself,
the genitals in other words

Could you describe this sensation?
- Yes.

We feel it there.

Always there. Like a weight!

A protrusion!

A protuberance! A promontory!

A package! A bundle! A clump!

A tumor?
- Yes, Tignetti.

But at certain times,

a tiger, a hawk, a shark!

Hold on to it tight, please.
- I ask…

do women, in their own way,
feel this physical presence…

of their sex or not?

Given the different formation
of let's say…

their nature?

That's another thing you'll never know,
neither before you die or after.

Not from me at least.
- Tignetti!

Telegram.

"Wondering why you don't keep
the promise you solemnly made"

"to come and visit me. Stop."

"Room No. 6, Salus Tua Hospital,
Via Guttani 85. Stop."

"Ada and I anxiously await you. Stop"

"Your only friend, Gualtiero."

Ada!

I brought some cream puffs.

How is he?

Was it really necessary?

Three times.

It was frightening.

He talks with a lisp.

He's like a little child.

Scared! I scared you, didn't I?
- Are you well?

I'm not dead yet.

You kept your promisthe. Kiss me.

No…

I've always had great faith in you,
even from earliest childhood. Remember?

I want to tell you something.
- Yes, Gualtiero.

Come close, both of you.

I don't hold you…

responsible for my eventual murther.

No. The only fault you have is that…

that you trust too much to…

to appearanthes.

And by so doing,

you become…

just like everybody else.

In other words: commonplace.

But listhen to me, kids,

no remorsthe, when you find my…

my cadaver!

Because they will find it:

fath, large, warm and dead.

Come on, Gualtiero.

You're starting again.

Come here.

I managthed to spot two of them.

Them. Among the doctors.

One's fath, the other stupid.

But when they come,
they'll find that they're biting…

biting… eh…

chew…

Biting…

More than they can chew!

Ah, I'll show them! I'll show them!
- Gualtiero, don't.

They're the crazy ones.

I'm not a Jew who lets himself
get killed! - Give that here!

And I trusted you!
- My gun! My gun!

I won't give it to you!

Give it! You're on their side!
- Gualtiero.

Calm down or I'll call the doctor.
- My gun!

Gualtiero…

Tell us. Tell us who they are.

You know, don't you?
- I don'th!

And I never willth!
You will never knowth!

One more mysthery…

Get out.

Out!

Get out!
- Come, let's leave him alone.

You don't want me to return?

No, go.
You'll hear of me soonth enough.

Let's go. Let's leave.
- Bye.

The pastries?

Come, let's go.

Where to?

I sent you that telegram.

You came for me, not him. Right?

Yes.

Come.

Come, let's talk.

I sleep here. I took a room to be
close to him in case he needed me.

Do you prefer less light?
- As you wish.

No, that's too dark.

There, that's perfect.

Whatever happens,
remember that I love Gualtiero.

He's all that I have in the world.

I love him so much
that I'm even jealous of you!

I've often wondered
what he sees in you.

Why does he love you so much?

Well, honestly,
I've often asked myself that too.

You must have something.

Now we'll see.

And…

And Gualtiero?

Be still!

Be still.

Don't think about it.

Gualtiero is happy.

No need for remorse.

Why is he happy?
- Gualtiero knows.

He's imagined it.

You mustn't worry.

We're alone now.

Gualtiero is not here.

Just you and me.

I'll do it myself.

No!

Be still!

You're like a stubborn little boy.

Is that why he likes you?

Two little kids…

I like your t-shirt.

Please, keep your t-shirt on.

I feel a little ridiculous with it on.

I told you I liked it!

What nice underwear.

Is that eggshell?
- I don't know.

Nice shoes too.

Here I am.

But why aren't you undressing?

Wait a moment! But…

What did you do to me?

What are you afraid of?

No, you… you did something here,
in my groin.

A strange sensation
that I've never felt before.

I'll do it again.

What's wrong?

Why don't you let yourself go a bit?
- You think it's easy?

Trust me.

Because I love you.

I could never hurt you.

That's not possible.
- What's not possible?

That you love me.
- But why isn't that possible?

Because you barely know me.

You've no reason to love me.
- What is this then?

And what am I doing now?

This is love, dear.

At this moment, I love you.

It's you who can't trust.
I wonder why.

Come to bed now.

Come on.

Excuse me, but I must take this off.
I must get it off.

Now that you took off your t-shirt,

what will you think of?

Why don't you think of me a bit.

I am thinking about you.

You're thinking about something.
- No.

Tell me what you were thinking.
- Why do you want to know?

Don't stare at me like that.

Close your eyes.

We're back to that?
- What did I do?

You're staring!
- And if I like to look at you?

No, darling, you're surveilling me.

But you needn't worry.

I'm not going to eat it.

What are you surveilling?

I don't like for you to look at me.
At least not like that.

Why? What kind of look?

You look like one
who thinks, thinks, thinks!

Ada, you're obsessed.
Worse than Gualtiero.

No, you're obsessed!

You're thinking, "What will this
whore do?" That's what you think!

"How far will this slut go?"

"She's not ashamed of anything,
this slut! This bitch!"

That's what you think!
At least admit it!

Get out of my bed! Out!

Ada, kindly stop shouting.

There aren't two of here, but three:
you, me and a moralist!

Who's here to watch, think of filth
and judge like a cop! - Listen, dear,

there are four of us here:
Because you're the one who's thinking!

I think because I feel you thinking.
It's not me who thinks.

I have no gift for thinking during love.
Understand? I have the gift of love.

You do think! And how! Fucking hell!

You're thinking, "Look how
much tartar his teeth have!"

"So many hairs in his nose!
His skin is so lined!"

"How did I get myself into this?"

That's what you're thinking!

And you really want to know how
many of us are in this room? Eh? Five!

Us four and Gualtiero!
That's how many: five!

When you make love,
you're ashamed like a thief.

Who's ashamed? Me?
I'm the greatest of swingers!

Poor thing: how I pity your wife!
She must be so unhappy.

No more. I don't want to talk to you.
Go away.

Fine, you were completely right.

I thought of all the things you said.

And "whore" was the mildest word.

I'm being sincere.

Asshole!

Doctor!

Doctor! Listen! Come here!

Come over here by me, Doctor.

Ada…
- I must tell you something.

Something very important.
Come here, Doctor.

Come, Doctor,
I've something to tell you.

Doctor! - Doctor!
- Come here!

Come here! I want to leave!

Doctor!

Don't go away!

Doctor! Don't go away!

You won't tell me your age?
61 years old?

What do you have? Arthritis?

It's been four years since you've been
in a wheelchair? Fine, tell me later.

Now I must concentrate.
Look at this hand.

Keep looking.
Look at the other one. Look at it.

Look in my eyes. My eyes.
Look right into my eyes.

Rise!

Rise! You must rise! You know
it'll be hard but you must rise!

I feel something moving.
I feel something moving!

Come closer. Closer. Closer.

Closer! What? Are you falling?

Now put your hands on the TV.

You feel the warmth? Feel the warmth?
You're healed!

You're healed!
Shout it out loud! Shout it!

Cut!

Will you tell me what
all that damn sighing is about?

It helps me.

How?
- Fedora…

Dying scares me shitless.

The two of us are seated here…

tranquilly, peacefully at the table.

And you tell me you're afraid of dying.

Is this the appropriate time?
- When the fuck is it?

I'm afraid at the table, the bed,
the toilet, the movies, the office.

It comes over me without warning.
- And you can keep it.

And…

I confided in you because you're always
saying I keep my thoughts to myself.

Those aren't thoughts.
- What are they then?

They're fantasies.

You fantasize about death,
not think about it.

And besides,
it's not you who must die here and now.

Someone else.

Who knows where. Who knows when.

Fine, it's a fantasy
but I still shit myself.

If you really want to know,
women don't give a fuck about death.

We don't have your imagination.

Fedora,

listen,

if I followed my instincts…

every time I imagined my death,

know what I do?
Watch, I'd do this.

I don't want to die!
I don't want to die!

Nurses, doctors, scientists, save me!
I don't want to die!

I don't want to die!

I don't want to die!

I don't want to die!

I DON'T WANT TO DIE!

That's it.

You stink of smoke.

If you're afraid of dying,

then why don't you quit smoking?

Please, stop smoking.

You won't die, will you?

You won't leave me alone?

Is this the appropriate time?

What the fuck's ringing?

I'm embarrassed.

I'm embarrassed.
- What do you mean?

I'm pregnant.

I don't believe you.

And yet it's true.

We'll see.
He who lives will see.

He who lives…

will be born!
- And he who will be born…

will die.

Blackout time?

You want an abortion?
- No!

No. No, look…

Politically speaking,
abortion is right but…

I want to keep the child.

Which means
that abortion is politically wrong.

I agree.

Are you sure it's mine?

Stupid!

From the early hours of the morning
a silent and moved crowd,

gathered and fell in step
with the funeral procession.

The city still…
- That's it!

A minute of delay.

Due to the broken negotiations
of the seniority bonuses,

of the workers and technicians
compared to the managers,

the television workers
have declared a strike.

Starting today, as of this moment.

Goodbye.

Cut!

If the company pays or not, we'll see!

Hello, Tignetti.

I'm striking.

What's happening outside?
- They're fighting.

Why?

It's getting tricky. The company
doesn't want to indemnify the strike.

It's a complete mess.

I want death-indemnity.

Better yet,

birth-indemnity.

And then I want asshole-indemnity.

When one is born an asshole,
why shouldn't he be insured?

It'll be for the handicapped, the aged,

and the asshole too.

Poor guy…
- I had a terrible fight.

I'm still shaken.

I was about to beat the shit out of him.
- A union fight?

And he's so small!

He was livid. What a pain!

A midget union man?

Of course not, my son!

Which one?

The four year old.

Damn it all!

Now, I'm sorry.

You know, now I can see him,
at kindergarten, all alone…

Goddammit!

Maybe he's even crying by himself.

My husband's an asshole!

It's his fault. He doesn't know dick!

I'll go get him.

Now there's a strike.
- Tignetti,

do you want to get stoned?

Fedora, look!

It's incredible.

Do you believe it, Fedora?

I don't believe it. It's impossible.

Yet, I do believe it.
Everything is possible.

Cut!
- Yesterday, was found…

Fedora!

Everybody kills! But not us.

Everybody steals! But not us.

Everybody screws.

But not us.

Everybody gets stoned.

But not us.

Why don't we, Fedora?
- Because we are abnormal.

This evening, shortly after 9 pm,

a savage, barbaric homicide,

the motives of which the police are
carrying out strong investigations,

took place in Rome at an upscale
clinic in the Nomentano quarter.

This is the main entrance to
the Salus Tua Clinic in Via Guattani.

We've traced the killer's movements,
supposing only one person was involved.

The killer probably walked
through the garden to a Fiat 127

belonging to the victim's wife.

The car, at that moment, was being
guarded by a ferocious dog named Dago.

The killer slit the poor dog's throat…
- Dago! Dago!

And then entered the building where

taking advantage of the fact that
the staff were serving dinner,

he came to Room No 6…
- Fedora!

Where the victim was…
- Room No 6? Gualtiero!

After covering his face with a pillow,
the killer fired at the pillow…

They got him!

11 shots from a 7-65 caliber pistol.

The victim dead from the shots,
offered no resistance.

In fact, at that moment,

he was wearing a straitjacket of
the latest fashion called "Humane".

Gualtiero!

Ada! Ada!

Ada! No, Fedora!

Why must you shout?
- It's my fault! My fault! They did it!

What is it?
- I knew it!

What happened
- Fedora!

Who's dead? - Gualtiero!
- Which Gualtiero?

They killed Gualtiero!
- Which Gualtiero?

Milano! The television says
that they killed Gualtiero!

He was my best friend!
- It's impossible. Gualtiero Milano…

My friend! - Impossible!
He was your friend? Poor man!

Shut up! Let me hear!

Let me hear! - Why did they kill him?
- Will you shut up for one moment?

MASTURBATION.
- What going on? What?

He was forced to wear a straitjacket.
Coming back to the clinic…

That's Ada! Let me go!
- Stay here.

We're all responsible.

Gualtiero was an honest man,

a refined man, a poet.

A poet who loved others
more than himself.

It's not fair. It's not fair.

What do you want?

Wait.

I'll come too.
- No.

You stay here. No arguing.
Besides, you're pregnant.

That way.

Good evening, Commissioner.

I am Gualtiero Milano's best friend.
Can I be of any help?

Do you know who the killer was?
- You know?

I'm asking if you know.
- I don't know.

You see?
You can't be of any help whatsoever.

That's life.

Just one thing.
- What else do you want? - Nothing…

I'd like… to speak to the widow.

No?
- You can't.

She's upstairs sleeping.

Where were you
at the time of the crime?

I don't know what time he was killed.
The TV didn't say.

Who was watching TV with you?
- My wife, Fedora.

Then it was neither you nor your wife.
Accordingly, you may go. Good night.

Gualtiero!

May I come in?

Gualtiero!

No! We killed him! It's all our fault!

Ada and me!
We brought you to this damned place!

Sooner or later,
they would've killed him.

But we didn't believe him! We didn't!
We killed him!

But how could anyone believe
all your stories, my dear?

But who?
Who could've killed him? Why?

He didn't have any vices
nor any secrets!

He led a peaceful life!
He was an open book! A book…

You see, Doctor, when somebody dies,
even from a natural death,

he leaves behind him many questions
which will never have answers.

Take my dog for example.
- What dog?

I had a dog who died a year
and three months ago. - Yes?

Well, I still ask myself…
- What?

Did he really love me?
Was he really my friend?

My friend! My friend!

Or was it only because I fed him
two or three times a day?

That's the question.

To a dog, all masters are the same.

Gualtiero!
- Doctor, calm down!

If you go on so,
they'll electric shock you!

They can for all I care…

I think this is a gay thing!

Gay thing?
What are you talking about?

Believe me, I know it when I see it.
This is a gay thing!

But… but you're the one who's gay.

Why are you laughing?
- Yeah, I'm laughing!

Why are you laughing?

Maybe it was all a mistake.
- Yes?

Downstairs, a government
big shot is recuperating.

Upstairs, somebody from the opposition.
- Right…

Maybe they killed
the professor by mistake.

Yes, but… what about
Gualtiero's dog, Dago?

Why did they kill him?

Good night.

Why did they kill Dago?

Can you explain
what the fuck you're doing here?

The police are taking
note of everybody present!

They're studying everybody's behavior.

Besides, why all this hysteria?
Gualtiero was my friend.

You didn't even know him!

Shut up! Shut up!

May one know where
the fuck all this grief is coming from?

The commissioner!
Come, Fedora, let's go home.

Will you stop? Knock it off! Watch it!

Your crying makes me cry!

And if you actually knew him,
what would you have done?

Slashed your wrists?

But I did know him!

I knew him in every sense of the word.
- What?

What did you say?
- I'm pregnant from him!

Who?
- Him!

Gualtiero Milano?
- Him!

Gualtiero Milano?
- Yes, Gualtiero!

It's not true! It's not! It's not!

I don't believe it!

You'd be wrong to because it's true.
I'm pregnant by Gualtiero

and not by you!

I had to tell you or
I would've gone mad!

I demand an explanation!
No, no, not now!

But how? How could you do it?
How could you?

It was an accident!
The pill didn't work!

The pill didn't work?

How come it always works with me?

It was an accident!
What should I call it?

We made love only twice.

Three, OK?

Two or three?

Look, I wrote it down here.

Really?
You write down your filth?

No, these are my substitute hours.
I went twice this year to the school…

February 25th, March 7th, April 6th…

Maybe four times.

Really? And you went to bed with
him after just meeting him? Whore!

Let's not start being offensive, eh?
Else, I won't tell you a thing.

Oh, yeah? Why? Aren't you a whore?

I was hoping that
we could be civil about this.

Civil? What does "civil" mean?

Why? Is it "civil" to sleep with my
best friend? - What are you saying?

You hadn't seen him for 15 years!
What the fuck are you saying?

Yes, but you shouldn't
have done it with him!

With anybody else! But not him!
- Why not?

Tell me why!
- Because he's a Jew!

What did I say?
- Jew.

You said "Jew".
- I said "Jew"?

You said "Jew".
- I said "Jew"?

You said "Jew".
- I said… I said…

Yes, you said "Jew".

I said "Jew"?

Jew.

You see?

See what you made me say?
See what you brought me to? See?

Is it my fault you're a racist too?
- No, look,

I didn't mean "Jew".
I didn't mean "Jew".

I meant "friend"!
"Anybody but a friend." A "friend"!

But I found out after that
you were great friends. After!

I didn't mean "Jew",
I meant "nut". Eh, "nut"…

Fedora, I'm not going home.

My face is a mess. It's gross.

There's eau de cologne
in the glove box.

How did it get there?
- You put it there. Remember?

I met Gualtiero a year ago.

These things always happen
through my substitute teaching.

Then one day,

I don't know how…
it came out that you were great friends.

He said he loved you very much
and I liked hearing about your youth.

You know he said a lot?

That is… I don't know, he'd say… I mean…

He'd tell me about
your dreams and everything.

That is your disappointments.

It was like being
with another you, understand?

No!

It was a "transference"!

Transference, my ass! You just…

got fucked.
That was your transference!

No, please, my love.

It was a lot more complicated than that.

I mean, I never stopped loving you.
I love you.

I don't believe you!
- It is so. It's true!

Gualtiero… Gualtiero made me
understand certain things about you,

that I would've never understood.
Never.

Amazing!
- Never!

And then…
- And then?

He only saw in me…

He saw in me…
- What did he see?

He saw… that is…
- What did he see?

He saw…

If I tell you, you'll get mad.

Fine, after all that…

just tell me, OK?

At the point where we are,
what more are you hiding from me?

He saw you.

What? Who… who?
- He saw you.

He saw me?

He saw who?
- He saw you!

Give me a break!
This is like some dime store novel!

A crock of shit!

All that to justify a simple matter of…
yes…

of cock and cunt!

Pass! All of you pass!

And if it were so?

And if it were so?

And if it were so?

Right.

Thank God, he only masturbated!

But why then did that son a bitch…

come to me on that damn Sunday?
What did he want? Did you send him?

No! I haven't seen him since March 7.
I swear.

But he… he knew that
you had become pregnant?

Yes. Who gave you that eau de cologne?

And how could he have known…
if you hadn't seen him since March?

I told him one day when
he had phoned for you.

It was the beginning of April.
- And what did he say?

He started crying.
He was seized with remorse.

He was crying, sobbing…
- And you?

You didn't have any remorse?
- No.

The only thing that matters
to me is to have this baby.

Ada…

Maybe Ada sent for me
only to get even.

She gave me a loaded pistol.
Maybe she wanted to see…

if I would hunt him down.
She wanted to see if I would…

But she was right. Somebody killed him,
didn't they? That's a fact.

Where did you put the pistol?

What pistol?
- The one you hid among your shoes.

I threw it in the river.
- Why?

I was afraid of the police.

We need to be careful. If the police
discover something, we'll get blamed.

But my love,

who cares about the police?

None of it's true!
I'm filled with remorse!

Overflowing with remorse, my love!

I can't take it anymore!

You must believe me, my love.

But what will the two of us do now?
- Who knows?

We'll call him Gualtiero.

Or Ada!

The sunset!

Damn it!

It's gone away!

"From Gualtiero Milano"?

"Do not open."

Why not?

Money!

What is it?

An anonymous telephone call:
"Bomb. Get out." But stay if you like.

Should we check it out?
- No, let's stay here.

No! Help! Help!

That's mine!
- I didn't know.

You goddamn son of a bitch!
Why shouldn't I open it?

Because you say so?

Why?

Must I spend my life
trying to solve this puzzle?

DO NOT OPEN

Why "do not open"?

Why?
Why should I not? What is it?

Why shouldn't I open it?

Help! Help! Help! Help!

English subs by Marx,
revised by sineintegral@KG