La Notte (1961) - full transcript

THE NIGHT

Come on, calm down.

You'll feel better now.

What am I going to do?

Tommaso Garani, room 103.

OK. Seventh floor.

Wait here a second.

Doors closing! Please select
the floor you wish to visit.

Excuse me.

The telephone is out of order.

I don't know how to make it work.



Would you mind...?

Could you tell the operator downstairs?

But...

He's drugged with morphine,
but he's awake.

- You can go in.
- Are you going to operate on him?

We have decided against it.
It would be futile at this stage.

Please excuse me.

Tommaso, are we disturbing you?

Come in, my dear.

Lidia.

- Hello, Tommaso.
- How are you?

The operation was successful,
but the patient died.

Sit down.

What news do you have? I hear your
book is out today. Are you pleased?



- Please, let's not talk about it.
- Why not?

It's important. Your book
is the one thing that really matters.

Lidia, why don't you sit down?
You can smoke if you like.

No, thank you. I'm not tired.

I've brought you "L'Europa Letteraria"
with your article on Adorno.

I've already got a copy. What do you
think? Shall I add it to the book?

I think it's very good. I went through it
quickly, so I need to read it again.

Of course you should add it.
It will be a great book.

Yes. I should give it some thought.

I haven't had much time to think about it
over the past few days

and yet this is the first time
I've been off work in three years.

My holidays are quite ironic!

Lidia, you look very well.

Marcella wanted to come, too,
but I thought...

Quite right.
I don't want to see anyone.

There are times
when you don't want to pretend anymore.

With you, it's different, though.
I was expecting you to come.

I can see things more clearly now.

I regret spoiling many of your evenings
with my presence

in your lovely home.

It's your home, too, you know.

Yes, I know.

You realise so many things
when you're on your own.

You realise that
there's still so much to do.

Maybe I was watching from the sidelines
something I should have been a part of.

I lacked the courage to go all the way.

I often cheer myself up thinking
I probably wasn't clever enough anyway.

If that's true, then I should give up
writing and look for another job.

- I think you're being coy.
- Self-criticism is good.

It helps you to reassess things
and grow in confidence.

You bought it? I was going
to bring you a copy.

Not only did I buy it,
I've also started reading it.

I've only read 50 pages so far.

I hope they'll let me finish it.

There are some very good parts,
like the bath episode.

It's definitely the best bit, unless
morphine has warped my judgment.

Morphine makes everything
seem important.

Then it must be the morphine.

Do you really think it's good?

Yes, Giovanni.

You'll end up being very successful.

Yes, and I'll come to a sticky end.

The advantage of a premature death
is that you escape success.

- Ah, my mother.
- Good morning, Madam.

How are you, Tommaso?

Poor mother, seven hours on a train
on her own.

And now she can't even sleep
because she has to keep me company.

- Today is Saturday, isn't it?
- Yes, it's Saturday.

Tell me about you.
Who have you seen lately?

Hardly anyone lately.

Always the same people.
Everything's so difficult at the moment.

We spend our time in the car
trying to get to places. It's no fun.

We're almost always at home.

What about your trip to Greece?

- Well...
- We haven't decided yet.

- It was your idea, when you're better.
- Treat me like a friend, not an ill person.

I know how this will end.

I'm sorry.

I've told my publisher
what to do about my royalties.

After all, he's the one paying for here.

No, it's nothing. I'm sorry.

Don't tire yourself.

Shall I call the nurse?

- Or shall we go?
- No, please stay.

Quite a place, isn't it?

It's everything I dislike in terms of style.
I never thought I'd end my days like this.

I feel like a fraud.

Hospitals are becoming
more like nightclubs.

People want to have fun
until the very end.

Ah, the champagne.

Thank you.

It's at times like this that
one has a craving for champagne.

I don't like it,
but suddenly I feel like some.

They weren't surprised.

It's stimulating, it's good for you.

Excuse me, I've never dared
to ask you your name.

My name is Elena.

Elena, thank you.
Will you have a drink with us?

No, thank you.
Don't tire yourself talking.

She's not a nurse,
just a beauty to boost morale.

Yet beauty is depressing
in certain circumstances.

- Giovanni, will you pour it?
- Sure.

Only for me? What about Lidia?

No, thanks, Tommaso.
I'd rather not.

Giovanni, don't let me drink alone.

- Champagne, Mother?
- A little bit.

I have to go, Tommaso.
You stay, Giovanni.

I have to go.
I'll come again tomorrow.

- Don't you want to go, too?
- I'll stay a little longer.

Bye, Lidia.

Goodbye. See you tomorrow.

They are my only real friends, Mother,
the others are just acquaintances.

They're good people.
Giovanni's a famous writer.

If they ever visit you one day...

You must go and visit.

...give them the room
overlooking the orchard.

If that's your wish,
I promise we'll go.

I think they're giving me water,
not morphine.

- How was that concert?
- I didn't go.

Do you have a match?

No, a match.

Please, get up.

I could do without this book party.

- If you're too tired, I can go on my own.
- No, I'm fine.

- Are you not tired?
- Well, a little tired, perhaps.

I have to tell you something
that may upset you.

Do you have to?

Yes. Something happened
at the hospital. Something unpleasant.

I saw that girl again.

- What girl?
- The one in the corridor.

At first I couldn't make out
what she wanted.

Did you go into her room?

She was like a wild animal.
I was carried away.

- Why did you call it "unpleasant"?
- It was hideous.

At first I thought I'd provoked it.
The nurses came in.

It's good material for a novel.
You can call it "The Living and the Dead".

- Is that all you have to say?
- What shall I say?

That you did something vile?
That you disgust me?

I understand, you were overwhelmed.
Let's not talk about it, do you mind?

Maybe that girl's happy now.

Why?

Because she's irresponsible.

- There were Piero, Giacomo, Marta.
- And?

So this guy...
But there was never...

Good morning. How are you?
Good morning, Madam.

This is my wife.

Hi, Bompiani. How are you?

- Good morning. Congratulations.
- Thank you.

- Hello.
- This is the anteroom of fame.

We've all had to wait.

- Sign a copy for our Nobel Prize winner.
- I'd like to.

Here's a pen.

I'm honoured.

- Do you always sign on the left?
- Yes.

- Do you open your books on the left?
- Possibly.

- That's interesting.
- Why?

- For your future as well, in my opinion.
- Really?

I count on it.

- Now one for my collection.
- For you, "In friendship".

- Very well.
- You'll learn to write dedications.

- What are you writing now?
- Nothing.

- What a shame.
- After you've finished writing a book...

- Where is he?
- How I'd love to write a book.

Thank you.

I don't understand. He says he is crazy,
can you believe this?

What's the matter? Come here.
Why are you crying?

- Hi.
- Hi.

- Are you not coming to the seaside?
- No, I'm too busy.

- I'll give you a call.
- OK.

- Give my regards to Lidia.
- Sure.

- Sir, your post.
- Thank you.

- My wife isn't back yet, is she?
- No.

- Has she called?
- No.

- Shall I serve dinner?
- No, you can go. I'll wait.

Wait here.

Stop it! Stop it!

Wait.

That's enough.

Do you still want me to wait? Fine.

- Can I go?
- Yes, go.

- The wind's strong up there.
- It is indeed.

It reaches 3000 metres.

- Would you like to go to the moon?
- Not really.

Lidia?

Lidia?

- Hi, Giovanni.
- Hi, Lucia.

- Have you seen Lidia?
- No, I thought you were out.

I'm fed up. Paolo has a cold,
and we can't leave town.

- I'm sorry to hear that.
- Ask Lidia to call round.

She's not home. I thought
she might be with you.

- No, I haven't seen her for days.
- Thanks and sorry for bothering you.

Bye.

Hello?

It's you.

- Where are you?
- I'm in Sesto San Giovanni.

In the same old field,

kids are still firing rockets.
You'd like it.

They shoot up ever so high. It's beautiful.

No, don't worry. Nothing's wrong.

No. For goodness sake,
I'm telling you it's nothing.

Come and pick me up, will you?

And hurry.

If you're meeting someone,
there's a little hotel nearby.

No, thank you.

I can lend you an evening dress.
I'll describe it to you.

It's low-cut and has a wide skirt.
If you wear it with tights...

And if you wear it with an underskirt...

- How much is it?
- 900 lira.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

If you wear it with a bow
and a tight corset...

Our programme continues
with more music...

Why did you come here?

I just happened to be over this way.

Come here.

How strange, it hasn't changed at all.

It will, before long.

- They were over there.
- Who?

The boys with the rockets.
They're gone now.

This line was in use when we lived here.

Giovanni.

Would you pass me the sponge?

Listen, Giovanni.

I'm tired of staying in.

- Let's go to the Gherardini's.
- Anywhere to get out.

Of course, let's go.

- What does he want from you?
- Who knows? He barely knows me.

- Will there be many guests?
- I suppose so.

Every millionaire wants his own
intellectual and he's picked you.

Can you pass me that?

There you go.

- A new dress?
- Yes.

- What's wrong?
- Would you zip my dress up?

- Let's not go to Gherardini's party.
- Why not?

I'd rather we went somewhere by
ourselves. I want to spend time with you.

If you like.

What is it?

- Watching you amuses me.
- What's so amusing?

I don't know. Sometimes you seem
so controlled when you are with me.

Nonsense.
Look at her, she's not bad at all.

- Do you remember?
- You're really trying to distract me.

Please, don't belittle me.
I have my own thoughts, too.

What are they now?

I don't have a thought at the moment...
but I'm expecting one.

I can feel it coming.

Here.

Did the thought come?

- Yes.
- Is it a nice thought? Tell me.

Why not?

Where's Gherardini's villa?

In Brianza, about half an hour's drive.

Life would be tolerably agreeable
if it were not for its amusements.

An inspiration?

I no longer have inspirations,
only memories.

Won't you tell me
what you were thinking?

Later. Well, shall we go
to the Gherardini's?

Why have you changed your mind?

I don't know.
One must do something.

- Can I have the bill?
- Yes, sir.

- Are they all dead?
- Let's hope so.

Who here would read
"The Sleepwalkers"?

Pontano, isn't it? So nice of you
to come. I've heard so much about you.

We're celebrating
the horse's first victory.

It's my daughter's horse.

- What's his name?
- Volfango. He's so good.

From your books,
I expected you to be old and grey.

Have you read them?

Do I look too frivolous?
Come, I'll introduce you.

Let's introduce ourselves
as we meet people.

Let's do this, then.
Just a general presentation.

Lidia!

- Hello, Berenice.
- Do you know each other?

Lidia and I have hated each other
from the cradle.

- This is my husband.
- Nice to meet you.

Pontano, we meet at last.

- Let these two catch up.
- Sure.

Antonio, let him rest now!

- No, he's so sweet.
- Not if he doesn't sleep.

- But it's his party, after all.
- He's only two years old.

Let him rest.
This lot will teach him bad habits.

Antonio, go.

Don't stare at me like that.
I know I'm showing signs of ageing.

You've improved a lot, you know.

You used to be so plain.
You don't mind me saying that, do you?

I've heard it many times.

You're behaving like a tart.

Are you married?

I live alone.
I was born to be alone.

I'm too sensitive,
as my dentist used to say.

Do you still hang around
with intellectuals?

I never see you around.

We don't go out very much.
Tonight is an exception.

The pool looks beautiful.

Remember Grimaldi? I still see her.

Please...let's forget the past.

- Let's have some music.
- OK, let's go.

There are 3,000 roses here.

- See, they have a different hue at night.
- Do roses sleep?

Yes, all night long.

Antoine, the shears.

Thank you.

We need to find
the most beautiful one for you.

- There you go.
- Thank you.

Isn't it beautiful? It's starting to open,
and it's the same colour as your lips.

Antoine, tell Filippo to arrange them,
everyone else makes them look funereal.

Look who's arrived.

- Good evening.
- I'm so glad you came.

- Haven't we met before?
- Yes, we have.

- I can't remember where, though.
- Me, neither.

Aren't you enjoying yourself?

- Should I jump into the pool?
- Naked or dressed?

- Would you like one?
- No, thank you.

I've heard so many good things
about you.

- Who designed this place?
- Vietti. Do you like it?

Cesarino! Where are you?

- I'm here, sir.
- Show this gentleman around.

- Thank you.
- This way, please.

It's a shame that in the evening you can't
see the park very well, it's beautiful.

I'm going to Sweden.
On my boat, of course.

- Your boat?
- It's rather big, you know.

- Good evening, Berenice.
- Good evening.

- He's awfully rich. He must own millions.
- I see.

Look, Roberto's here.
Do you know him?

- No.
- Shall I introduce you to him?

- No, are you kidding?
- He's a great man. I'll go and get him.

Roberto!

Stop sending me postcards.

I'm green with envy.

- How are you?
- Not bad.

- I've only just got back.
- From your holiday?

- It was a business trip.
- I'll bet!

Well, maybe...

I know, but this is not
a good enough answer for me.

- Would you like some dinner?
- Later, thanks.

Look who's here.
Our patroness from Rome.

Mr Pontano, this is Marquise Gentili.
She works with orphanages.

Do you smoke?

I will have one.
Everyone smokes here in Milan.

Miss Resy, do join us.

- Can I introduce you to Mr Pontano?
- Good evening.

Giovanni Pontano?
The author of that great book?

Excuse us.
We have a few things to discuss.

- One of the best books ever written.
- You are too kind.

I adore it, I really do.
I'm your greatest admirer in Italy.

Here it is.

- You must allow me that privilege.
- Why not?

I'd like a novel about a woman
who loves a man,

but the man doesn't love her.

But he does admire her intelligence,
her character.

They live together...
But how could such a story end?

In so many ways.

She'd have to be a strong woman,
who can sacrifice herself.

She sacrifices herself
for another woman's happiness.

Why does she sacrifice herself?

I don't know.
It makes me want to cry.

What are you doing here?
Why don't you mix with the others?

Yes, I will in a moment.

Do you find it interesting here?

So and so. Why is it that
you never seem to enjoy yourself?

I am enjoying myself.

There's a girl over there
enjoying herself alone, too.

She's the one reading
"The Sleepwalkers".

She's pretty, too.

- I'm going.
- Commendatore, I'll see you soon.

Where are you going?

- Everything all right, Pontano?
- I'm afraid I don't know anyone here.

So, as I was saying to you, my friend.

It's absurd to talk about wealth.
No one's wealthy now.

But if anyone is still thinking
of becoming rich,

my advice is,
don't obsess over money.

I've always looked upon my businesses
as works of art.

Their financial profit
was almost immaterial.

The important thing
is to create something lasting.

But not everyone can create
something lasting.

Please, do you mind?

The thing that sustains a writer,
like you, Pontano,

is a sense of necessity,
not a need for profit.

You write because it's necessary
for you and for others...

- But one has to live.
- I never worried about that.

Life is what you make of it
with your own resources.

What would you do
if you couldn't write?

A few years ago he would have killed
himself. Now I don't know. Tell us.

I don't feel that important.

Perhaps there are other ways.

Isn't writing an irrepressible
but antiquated instinct?

A lonely craftsman putting
one word after another.

The job can't be mechanised.

Do you believe all that?

No. But you have the advantage
of real people,

you create real houses, real cities.

The pace of life is in your hands.
Maybe even the future is.

This is a black day for my husband.

You're right.

Are you one of the many
worrying about the future?

I'm building my own,
although the present keeps me busy.

Probably the future will never come.

The future will be awful,
don't you think?

By the way,
why don't you stay here tonight?

- Darling, you're always interrupting me.
- I'm sorry. Shall we go?

Carry on. You were saying the future
may never come. Let's go.

That's right. Please, take a seat.

Who knows what the future holds?

Maybe our privileges will vanish.
A good thing, too.

When I was young,
I imagined a world like this

and set out to create such a future.

Would you like a drink?

- Yes, I'll have a Cognac.
- Cesare.

He's been staring at that statue
all night.

Who knows what he's thinking?
Maybe he's waiting for it to wake up.

Cats are strange.

A glass of white wine, please.

- Go away, Resy. Leave me alone.
- Why?

Excuse me for a moment.

- Look who's here. My flirt.
- Hi, darling.

Guido, how are you? Thank you
for coming. Have you lost weight?

- Do you think so?
- What have you done?

Can you find me someone
I can play with?

- Won't I do?
- No. Too old.

- I'd get younger if I played with you.
- I don't want to get younger.

Why?

Why? Tell me.

I'd have won.
The compact must stop on the last row.

What's the prize?

Make a wish and tell me
if you win.

My name is Valentina.

Valentina.
Do you often lose this game?

I've just invented it.

- Once, I lost everything.
- What game was that?

You have to have seven points to win.

I'll cut to the chase,
I came here to talk to you.

- Good shot, but too ruthless.
- You're right.

- I'm scared.
- Come on.

That was not ruthless enough.

Show me what you can do.

Perfect!

- One for me!
- Wait, it's my turn now.

Sure.

Too long.

- One of the stones has fallen out.
- Really? I'm sorry.

It can't have gone far, can it?

It was here that it fell off.

- Maybe it rolled into the garden.
- That's a good one.

Never mind, it was only a ruby.

Do you enjoy acting the cynic?

No.

Watch this, I am going to aim
for that square. It's so difficult.

Here goes.

There it goes, look!

- I almost made it.
- 15,000 on Valentina!

20,000 on Pontano!

- 60,000 on Pontano!
- Come on now, you can't be serious.

If you do this, I won't play.
No, I'm out.

You only worry about losers.

A typical intellectual.
Egoistic, but compassionate.

This isn't a racetrack,
and don't take me for a horse.

- Is there a friskier horse?
- Yes, there is!

I wish to enquire about Mr Garani.
Room 103.

When?

Ten minutes ago?

Was his mother with him?

Valentina,

I'm rather disappointed.

In me?

How can I put that right?

Shall we read a few pages together?

That would be one way
of getting closer.

- Are you craving for affection?
- Aren't you?

I withdrew from the game,
you must claim your prize.

Let me savour it a little longer.

But don't forget.

My memory seems to get worse
every day.

- Bye, see you tomorrow.
- Bye, darling.

- Ignazio, are you leaving, too?
- I am. Thank you for the nice evening.

- It's late and you need to go to bed.
- I am not going to bed.

- He's the one who has to get up early.
- Good night.

- Good night.
- Good night.

- Good night, Daddy.
- Bye, darling.

I'd like a word.

- Ignazio, I'll see you tomorrow night.
- Sure.

- Listen, Mama...
- What is it, darling?

Pontano, I've got a proposition for you.
I could use a man like you.

- What for?
- A cultural initiative for my employees.

I want a better relationship between
workers and the management.

Do you know why?

They don't know the firm's history
and my role in it. Let's sit down.

I want a press, advertising
and public relations department,

with a special section

devoted to internal relations.

- I want our company's history written.
- By me?

Yes, but not only this.
I'd like you to become an executive.

- A full-time job?
- That's right.

Wouldn't you like to be with us
and work for the company?

May I ask what you are earning
at the moment?

I don't know.

Your wife comes from a wealthy family,
doesn't she?

True, but I have my own money,
and I contribute to many publications.

I see.

Wouldn't you like to be independent?

In what way?

Think it over.
It's our policy to pay top salaries.

Look what my cousin brought me
from America.

A wallet, with a dollar inside.

You see, the dollar gets everywhere.

All alone, Mrs Pontano?

These writers...

Isn't it beautiful here?

- Where are you going?
- I won't belong.

It could have gone better.
If Cariglia hadn't got ahead...

And I couldn't catch up.

It was your mistake. If you'd got ahead
earlier, you would have easily won.

I had to stay back.

- Have you seen Miss Gherardini?
- No, I haven't.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

It's easier said than done.
When you have orders to follow...

Would you like to dance?

Yes.

- You can't dance.
- No.

- It's raining!
- Let's all go into the swimming pool.

This is great!

No, are you crazy?

- Don't be afraid. Come on!
- Stop it!

Look! Look at her!

- I'm going in!
- You're going to catch a cold!

Me, too! Me, too!

- She is crazy!
- What are you talking about?

Don't play around.

Giovanna, come on, strip!

- Where are we going?
- Get in the car.

The stock exchange is rising.
All the political speculation...

Bye, Mimì. You're really beautiful.

What's happened?

Angelo! Bring some candles, please.

Touch me, see, I'm all wet!

- Giulio? Giulio, where are you?
- Stop it!

Wait a moment. Let's talk.
Tell me something.

I'll tell you a bedtime story later.

Pretend I'm in bed.

No, later. I'll tell you about a hermit,
an intellectual, of course.

He drank only dew,
until he came to the city,

where he tasted wine and
became an alcoholic. How's that?

I'd like a true story about you.

- Worse has happened to me.
- I wish I could understand writers.

- What's your name?
- Friends call me Resy.

- You want to understand only writers?
- No, others, too.

I think you'll have your hands full.

- See you later.
- OK.

I'm sorry, I can't.

At least I'm clever enough
not to break up a marriage.

Now spend the rest of the evening
with your wife.

But it was she who sent me to you.

Never mind.
It's my prize from your game.

It's so dark. How can I find her?

I felt miserable this evening,

but our game cheered me up.

Now the misery is creeping back,
like a melancholic dog.

- Have you got a cigarette?
- No, I smoke cigars.

I'll get my own.

- Angelo.
- Yes, Madam.

- Bring more candles.
- Yes, Madam.

I think we still have
some things to say.

Of course.

I think love restricts a person.

It creates misunderstanding all around.

But not within.
Even novels are sentimental now.

I see, you're gathering material tonight.

The way I feel, I don't know
if I'll ever write again.

I know what to write,
but not how to write it.

It's called a crisis,
it's very common among writers today.

But in my case,
it's affecting my whole life.

You're just weak, like me.

Why are you telling me this?
I may not understand.

After all, I like golf, tennis,

cars and parties.

Is that all you want in life?
Don't you like other things, too?

Yes. Everything.

Could you help me?

- Promise not to make fun of me?
- I promise.

I heard snatches
of television dialogue...

"If I were you, I wouldn't do that, Jim."

After that, the howling of a dog

rising effortlessly,
in perfect misery.

Then I thought I heard a plane.

Then silence... and I was happy.

A garden's silence is made of sounds,
press your ear to a tree and listen.

The sounds may be within us,
I'd rather think it's the tree.

The silence is broken
by an alien noise

disturbing my peace.

I closed the window, but the noise
persisted, it was too much for me.

I don't want useless sounds,
I want to select them.

Voices and words... there are
so many words I'd rather not hear,

but you must resign yourself,
like floating on the waves of the sea.

May I listen to it again?

- I've erased it. It was drivel.
- Why are you being like this?

Because mine is not a calling
that I can't ignore.

Mother says scribbling indoors
ruins the complexion.

- It's a sin to waste such intelligence.
- I'm not intelligent. I'm alert.

I'm happy to observe things
without having to write.

Last year I went to the States
to see Julia.

- Who's Julia?
- A hurricane.

We may meet more often, Valentina.
Your father has offered me a job.

Last year I thought
I was in love with a boy...

Something must be wrong with me,
but it will pass.

Whenever I try to communicate...
love disappears.

- Was that when you lost everything?
- No.

Why work for my father?
Surely you don't need the money.

No?

What you need is a girl,
for a fresh start.

Not a girl.

You.

- Don't be afraid.
- I'm not.

You see? It's ridiculous.

How can he sleep?
Anything could happen...

- Nothing ever happens.
- Yes, but I hate seeing time wasted.

You'll give me a heart attack.

My darling, my darling.

You are so sweet.

My darling,
look how small and sweet it is.

Come to my room and dry yourself.

- Bye, Roberto!
- Good night.

How prosaic. Sandwiches at this hour.

D'Annunzio's turtle died of colic
after eating flowers.

It's true, but you don't believe me.

I'll get you a towel.

You should take your dress off.

Listen, Valentina...
isn't that your name?

Stop fussing over me and tell me
what you have in mind?

Please spare me this complicity.

I'm sure that's not in your nature.

I've nothing in mind. Dry yourself
or stay wet, but don't go on about it.

- Our writer doesn't drink?
- No, thank you.

One day, in Venice,

I was dining
with that American author...

- The one who hunts elephants...
- Hemingway?

Now there's a man for you.
A real artist.

I said to him,
"My dear Hemingway, I like you.

"One of these days,
I'll visit you in Cuba."

Do you know what he said?
"If you do, I'll shoot you."

There's a man who knows his business.

Earns what he likes.
Millions of dollars.

Even an intellectual can't scorn that.

It's hard to say
what an intellectual might scorn.

My boy, never despise money.

Our time, sir,

is vile and anti-philosophical,
afraid to take a stand on values.

As for democracy, in a nutshell,
it means: take things as they come.

I respect that quotation,
but it's offensive here.

- Why is that?
- Because he said it complacently.

The author, on the other hand,
wrote those words in despair.

It's the words that count,
not the intentions.

- Shall I tell you what happened?
- Skip it.

Fine. I'm not much good at confessions.

I wonder what I am good at?
Not love, not vices.

I've plenty of vices,
but I hardly practise them.

I don't even like whisky.

I think I've found the vice that suits me,
it's warm and it's good.

How old are you?

22...plus many, many months.

You don't know what it is
to feel the weight of years, in vain.

I just feel like dying.

An end to this agony, something new.

- It may be nothing.
- Yes, it may be nothing.

Let's go.

I don't feel jealous,
in spite of what I said.

Not at all.

That's the trouble.

I hope we'll see you again.

- Perhaps you'll invite me over?
- In September, after your holiday.

This year I won't be back until later...
much later.

You've exhausted me, the pair of you.

Do you mind if we go this way?

Take no notice.
I'm just crying because I'm silly.

Let's not go home just yet.

Want to hear a good one?
Valentina's father has offered me a job.

- Will you accept it?
- I don't think so.

Why not? It's a good opportunity.
Your life would be your own at last.

I called the clinic. Tommaso is dead.

When? Why didn't you tell me?

You were playing.
Was he really your good friend?

He was much more to me.

He convinced me, despite myself,
that I was cleverer than I am.

He spent days
trying to make me study,

even though I wasn't interested.
I was concerned with my problems.

His persistence nearly drove me mad.

I began to hate him for it.

He never talked about himself.
Only me... me...

And I never understood.

I thought so little of myself.

When we're young, we're so stupid, we
can't imagine things coming to an end.

You talked only about yourself.

That was something new for me,
I was so happy with it,

that nothing in the world
was more beautiful.

Because I loved you. You, not him.

That's why his affection irritated me
and flattered you.

Isn't that true?

Yes, but not much.
He was so vulnerable.

I feel like dying,
because I no longer love you.

That's why I'm desperate.

I wish I was old, and that
my life's dedication to you was over.

I wish I no longer existed,
because I can't love you!

That's the thought which came to me

in the nightclub,
when you were so bored.

But if this is true,
if you wish you were already dead,

it means you still love me.

No, it's only pity.

I never gave you anything.
I was completely unaware.

I go on wasting my life, like a fool,

taking without giving,
or giving too little.

If you mean I haven't much to give,
you may be right.

I used to spend afternoons
reading in bed.

Tommaso would call and find me there.

He could have kissed me.
I wouldn't have resisted, out of boredom.

But he was satisfied to watch me
as I read.

All those purposeless books.

200 pages a day.
I read so quickly.

I've been selfish.

Now I realise that what we give to others
comes back to us.

Do they think their music
will improve the day?

Lidia, let's settle this.

Let's try to hang on to something
we're sure of.

I love you.

I'm sure I'm still in love with you.
What more can I say? Let's go home.

When I awoke this morning,
you were still asleep.

As I awoke,
I heard your gentle breathing.

I saw your closed eyes,
beneath wisps of stray hair

and I was deeply moved.

I wanted to cry out, to wake you up,
but you slept so deeply and soundly.

In the half light,
your skin glowed with life

so warm and sweet
I wanted to kiss it,

but I was afraid of waking you up.

I was afraid of you
being awake in my arms again.

Instead, I wanted something no one
could take from me, mine alone,

this eternal image of you.

Beyond your face
I saw a pure, beautiful vision

showing us in the perspective
of my whole life,

all the years to come,
even all the years past.

That was the most miraculous thing,

to feel, for the first time,
that you had always been mine.

That this night would go on
forever,

united with your warmth,
your thoughts, your will.

At that moment, I realised
how much I loved you, Lidia.

I wept with the intensity
of the emotion.

For I felt
that this must never end,

we would remain like this
all our lives,

not only close,
but belonging to each other

in a way that nothing
could ever destroy,

except the apathy of habit,
the only threat.

Then you awoke and, smiling,
put your arms around me, kissed me,

and I felt there was nothing to fear.

We would always be as we were
at that moment,

bound by stronger ties
than time and habit.

Who wrote that?

You did.

No... I don't love you anymore.

You don't love me, either.

Don't say anything.
Don't say anything.

Say it.

No, I won't say it.