Lo spietato (2019) - full transcript


-There you are!


-How's everything?
-All good.

-Everything OK?

-It arrived yesterday from London.

-It's tempered, come on.

-What if my finger slips?
-I'll lose my fucking rag.

-What's that?
-Leave it, I'll sort it. Don't worry.


-You know who you remind me of?

Christ, you're just like him.


Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. Remember?

What movie's that?

-You know, the one where he...
-Where he what?

-Come on, what does he do?
-He plays a retard.

-Fuck you!
-Go answer that.

-OK, but be careful.
-Don't worry.

-Go answer it.



Kemal wants a word with you.

Hi, Kemal. Everything OK?

Wait, I'll call you back.

Besides, he's a big international player.

You know these things happen. I'm sorry.


No, we don't agree.

Your fag talk won't get you out of this.

Sorry, who are you?

I don't even know you.
It was Kemal's gear.

-Look, it's my gear too, you prick.

Strange, I didn't realize.
So what's the problem?

Your problem
is you have to pay for the gear.

Or I'll stick my gun in your mouth

and blow your brains out.

Got it, Gianni?

You've got a week.

We know where to find you.

There wasn't much to say.

They all had to die.

Ça va sans dire.

Why did they all have to die?


Maybe I should start from the beginning.

I still remember when we left Calabria,
left Platì.

Me, my mom, and my brother Luigi.

We were on the train
all day and all night.

Milan was still a mystery to me.

I was convinced
I was going somewhere unusual.

But, that morning,
I hardly saw anything of the city center.

My father had moved there a while ago.

He'd found accommodation
outside the city -

in Buccinasco, to be precise,

which was known as Romano Banco back then.

Just a few houses,
not like Platì, but almost.

The real difference
was that it was bitterly cold.


I realized pretty quickly
that this wasn't a new world.

In Platì, my father was a shepherd.

In Buccinasco,
he reinvented himself as a bricklayer.

-Do you want some?
-No, thanks.

You have to eat.

My father was a man of the past.

He only opened his mouth
to eat and to swear.

I knew he'd been involved
with the 'Ndrangheta in Platì.

But, after stepping out of line, he was,
as they say, "stripped".

That's why he left.

It could have been worse.
Men have been killed for a lot less.

Mario, remember the liver
for Mrs. Barzagli or she'll have a fit.

Yes, Dad.

Watch this, I'm going to piss him off.

Hey, Maghreb.

I was just wondering,

how do you manage to wash
if you leave the basil in the bath?

Barbieri, get the fuck outta here!

My God, did you hear that? It's a miracle!

It's a North African uprising!

I never intended to become a criminal.

But I'd just happen
to walk past the local bar, the Saloon,

and I'd see them there,
the real criminals.

People who robbed and murdered

just like I delivered beef brisket
or pork knuckle.

I'd see the Gaetani cousins.

They were always together.

If one was there,
you could bet the other was there as well.

The owner of the Saloon
was with them, too - Spadafora.

They were at the top of the food chain.

They were just rich kids.

They had a clear path into the 'ndrina
because of their illustrious relatives.

Not like me,
branded with my father's disgrace.

They were respected by everyone
but they didn't have to work hard for it.


We want you to meet Mariangela
and her parents.

-Pleased to meet you.
-They're from Platì, too.

They just moved here.


We'll all be having New Year's dinner
together tomorrow.

You two can get to know each other.

Look at her!


Did you hear your mother?

Fuck around tomorrow
and don't bother coming home. Got it?


31 DECEMBER 1967






The cane.

Three in a row!

Get off me.

This is your fault. He should be here.

None of you have any respect!

There she is, blondie!

So, want some company for the evening?

Where are you off to?

Where are you going?

Eight, seven, six...

Five, four, three, two, one...

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year.

Happy New Year.

These days they call it karma.

Back then it was just called bad luck.

They arrested us because of the Lambretta,
me and Barbieri.

Turns out it was stolen
and they thought we were involved.

At the station they assigned us
to Beccaria, the juvenile prison.

But, they couldn't keep us in,
it was just temporary.

So they told our parents
they could come and get us.


No, I'm sorry, I don't know a Santo Russo.

I swear they only sent me to Beccaria
because my dad didn't want me at home.

Four months for no reason.
I hadn't done anything.


It's crazy but it's true -
it's all on record.

My cellmate's real name
was Salvatore Mammone,

but everyone called him Slim.

Though slim, he certainly wasn't.

But I received my real Beccaria welcome

from René and his crew.

Better than San Pellegrino, huh?

Go fuck yourself!

Who taught you Milanese. Don Backy?

What happened to you?

Nothing. I fell down the stairs.

Pray with me.

Our Father,

who art in heaven...

Hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done...

On earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread...

and forgive us our trespasses...

as we forgive those
who trespass against us...

And lead us not into tem--

And lead us not into temptation.

And lead us not into temptation.


But deliver us from evil.


-Are you jerking off?

You're a dickhead.

You look like a stoner.

I knew you were Calabrian.
You were talking in your sleep.

I'm only Calabrian when I sleep.

Are you embarrassed?

Slim was from Taurianova, near Platì.

But, in an anthropological sense,
we were two different species.

He'd been convicted of robbery and assault
in a bar in Lambrate.

He was strong. Very strong.

But he was a good guy really.

We hit it off straightaway.

And when two southerners get on,

the good times are over for everyone else.

Better than San Pellegrino, huh?

-You don't want to ask for forgiveness?

Please forgive me!

Let's go.

-Everybody freeze!
-Stay calm and nobody gets hurt.

Put the money in the bag.

Get the fucking money ready!

Get the money ready.

Put it in the bag.

All of it!

Get down and fucking stay down!

Nobody's going to get hurt. Stay calm.

Empty it, now!

Get a move on!

Put the money in.

What the fuck are you doing?

Come on, let's go.

Let's go. Watch out.

Come on, let's go!

We're late for church, guys!

Gentlemen, Bertha and Olga,

straight from East Germany and Poland.

And finally, our specialty,

straight from swinging London, Jane.

Why do you call her your specialty?

You're a filthy little slut, aren't you?

My God, look at this!

-What time is it?
-It must be six. We need coffee.

No, come on.

Want to join us?

I heard they're organizing something big.

-I don't know.

Something complicated.

Look at that.

You've got lots of cash
but try to make it less obvious.

There's no point in wearing ten rings,
bracelets, diamond necklaces...

It's tacky at best.

I understand why Arabs wear all that gold
to flaunt their wealth,

but you're not an Arab so it's just tacky

and you draw attention to yourself.

Have you seen yourself?

What do you mean?

Look at your outfit. You can talk.

What are you trying to say?

Gentlemen. How's it going?

Who the fuck are you?

Sorry, I don't mean to intrude.

But since you guys
are the best around here -

no, in the whole of Milan -

I just wanted to say
that if you ever need a hand...

in whatever it may be,

I'm at your disposal.

I know you.

Yeah, you're the son
of that thief Pantaleone Russo.

If I'm not wrong,
you just got out of Beccaria.


Yeah, the Beccaria gym.

I learned how the world works in there.

Sit down.

Yeah, I was just about to.

Let's see how good you are.

Do you know the jeweler's shop in Mede?


My philosophy has always been,
"Don't do anything for nothing."

And there, I had nothing to lose.

I'd never have dreamed
of going to Mede Lomellina for a visit,

let alone for a robbery.

We needed to review the situation.

The jeweler's wasn't open to everyone -
you had to ring the bell.

And the Carabinieri station
was right next door.

The escape route was a maze
of narrow roads through the town.

It wouldn't take much to trip up.

So how would we get in?

We couldn't just go in shooting.

We soon found out.

Let me do the talking.
I'll take care of it.

Hey. Spit your gum out.

Spit out your gum.


What's so funny? Take that gypsy ring off.

Why did I get this uniform?

Would I really be doing a job like this
with my figure?

I should have had an officer's one.
I feel like a dick.

Let's have a quick recap.

I'm Marshal Russo, you're my subordinates.

Got it?

Show us your badge.

Here's my badge. Do you like it?

Enough messing around.

Let's go.

It's the Carabinieri.

Can we come in? We're in a bit of a hurry.

Marshal... Go screw yourself.

I knew that the top drawer
next to the desk was open

and he had a .38 within easy reach.

And a button to trigger the alarm.

Good morning, everyone. Mr. Angelini?

Is there a problem?

No, no problem, just a small procedure.

-What does it involve?
-Move a muscle and I'll shoot.

Got it? Stay still. And you.

Don't move.


Salvatore, that's enough.

You nearly killed him.

Take them in there.

Go on! Move your asses!

-That's it.


You, too. Everything's going to be OK.

Good. Well done.

Tie them up.

-Where are the cable ties?
-Where do you think? In the case!

-Calm down.
-What the fuck's up with you?

-Have you tied them up?

Why the fuck is he ringing?

I don't know. Come on!

Why's he ringing? Is something wrong?

Come on.

Hold on.

Turn there!

-Which way are we going, Marshall?
-To the right!

Come on, let's go!

Let's go!

We did it!

Fuck you, bastards!

Let's see what we've got.

Fuck me!

They fucking pulled it off!

Of course we fucking did.

I thought you were fucked.

You're legends!

So you don't want your share,

but a little gift
for your girlfriend at least?

I don't have a girlfriend.

Well, take it for when you do.

The thing
that really gets Calabrians going

is the feast of Our Lady of Polsi,

even though, it's a completely
different experience in Milan.

These guys would go out
to the countryside with their families,

kill a few goats, even the kids,
cook them, eat them,

and, of course, talk business.

It was always the same people -

like the 'ndrina lawyer Giovanni Bova,

who specialized in fake alibis
and mental diagnoses.


There were regulars
like Giuseppe Caccamo, or Pino...


...and his associate Antonio Aricò.

Hey, Pino.

He was also known as Pino.
I never understood why.

They specialized
in stealing and selling typewriters.

Why is everybody here called Pino?

-Who gives a fuck?
-Fuck you.

Can I give you a hand?

There's no need, thank you.

It's my pleasure.
Don't worry, I've got it.

It's heavy.

There we go.

What use are men otherwise?

Anything else I can do?

No, thanks, Santo. I'll do it myself.

Have we met?

So you didn't give me a hand
to apologize for that time?

Sorry, what time?

New Year's Eve at your parents' house.
Years ago. I cried.

Oh, God, the ugly...
I mean Mariangela, sorry.

I'm glad you remember me.

Of course I do.

Damn, you've changed.

I grew up, that's all.

You've grown up well.

You've changed, too.

You never used to be such a sharp dresser.

Do you think so?

Time's done us both a world of good,

I'd say.

Hold on a second.
I need to talk to my brother.

-What the fuck happened?
-It's nothing, Santo.

-Nothing? Let me see.
-No, don't worry.

Who was it?

-Santo, don't worry.
-Tell me who the fuck it was.


Why? What did you do?

It was last night, I owed him some money.
I lost a bet.

Don't worry.

How much do you owe him?

A hundred and fifty thousand.

Don't do anything stupid, Santo.

-What the fuck? Santo!

Hello, everyone.

Hello, Santo. How's it going?

-Want some wine?
-Yeah, just a drop.

Thank you. You're always so kind.

Why wouldn't I be? You're a good boy.

You're respectful,

you always behave yourself.

What do they say?

"Like father, like son."

If it were up to his father,
Santo would starve to death like him.

But look at this guy.

He's a gentleman!

He's a made man!

The past is gone.

Let's celebrate. Cheers.

No, cheers to you.

Get the dancing going.

Let's have some music.

So Mariangela's not ugly anymore?

She's blossomed?

She's beautiful. Flawless.
Like the Virgin Mary.

Watch out, you'll end up marrying her.

I always know
what I should and shouldn't do.

-The perfectionist has spoken.
-Don't fuck with me.

I said I know.
Shall we talk about this business?

Let's talk.

If it goes well, it's a billion.

The ten of us get 30 percent.

Even with a jeweler's,

you get the money the next day.

Here, it's six months.

Then there's the guy's cousin
who knows the other guy.

He said we need to do this and that.

Christ, you end up with 20 million
and have to stand there and argue.

-You know what?

I prefer robberies.

They pay better.

You can't argue with that.

My dad's going to get you for this!

What the fuck are you talking about?

-See what I mean?
-Yeah, I get you.

-This stuff gets on my tits.
-I noticed.

The start of the kidnapping business
in Milan

was a bit like man walking on the moon.


The industrialist kidnapped on January 14
has been released.

He was set free in Bornago,
a few kilometers from Cassano d'Adda.

The money demanded as ransom...

The industrialist was left
with his wrists chained...

There was an English broker
who insured against kidnapping.

Maximum coverage two billion,
with the premium sent overseas.

There was even a list of kidnappers

that showed which ones were the best
if you were going to be kidnapped.

The worst of all were the Calabrians.
Ça va sans dire.

The ransom drop
was always the most stressful part.

The cops were always getting in the way.

But I always had
my own problem-solving strategies.



He's here. The cops are on his tail.

Leave them to it. Follow him.

That time, I organized
a treasure hunt all over Milan.

The guy follows the instructions
each time.

He stops, gets out,
reads, gets in, drives off,

and the cops don't have a clue.

It drives you crazy,

but it's effective.


Put the record in.

Go away!

-What's up?
-It's best if you leave.


My brother.

It's OK. Who cares?

-Let's forget it.
-Are you scared?

I can do it by myself if you are.

No, I'm fed up of waiting in the cold.

Go, then. I'm staying.

If he doesn't come out, I'm off.

Go on, go.

I'm going.

Are you going or are you still here?

I'll go in a minute.

There he is.

This is how I see it.

"You know me, Spadafora.

If you have a problem with my brother,
come to me, tell me and I'll sort it.

Why did you have to beat him up?"

But there was no point
in making a whole speech.

What was I going to say?

There was no sense, no logic to it.

I tell him to apologize
and then I have to give him the money?


Absolutely not.


What the fuck are you doing?
Forwards, not backwards.

Get closer.

Ram him.

-What the fuck?
-Think you can beat up my brother?

That was my first miracle,
as we Calabrians say.

We Calabrians aren't like Sicilians,

who meet, talk and deliberate
before killing someone.

We sort out our own business

without overthinking it.

Nobody suspected me over Spadafora.

Nobody asked questions.

They all had guilty consciences.


There was nothing I could do.

It was clear, I had to marry her.

From now on, you're under house arrest.

-Come off it.

You even chew gum in church?

Typical bride, making us wait.

-What's the matter with Pantaleone?
-He's irritated.

It's because of all the chilli he eats.

Piss off.


She's here.

So? All good?

It was all because of the diamond
Spadafora gave me.

One of the ones stolen in Mede.

The bastard goldsmith
I asked to set the stone

kept the original
and replaced it with a fake.

Impossible to tell the difference.

A thief robbing a thief.

When the cops caught him
with the stolen diamond,

the goldsmith went down
while ratting us out.

We were well and truly shafted.

Don Fortunato, do something.

Santo and Mariangela Assunta,

in the name of the Virgin Mary
and in the presence of your witnesses...

Hurry up!

Santo, do you take Mariangela
to be your lawfully wedded wife?


-Mariangela, do you--

In the name of God,
I pronounce you husband and wife.

In the name of the Father,
the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

-Which hand is it?
-What a beautiful couple.

-Come on.
-I'll see you later.


It's OK. You're a respectable woman now.

Get close together!

Let the bride through.


-The fuck is this?
-My clients are respectable people.

Take it easy!

Santo, don't worry.
I'll sort this out right away.

And you?
There he is.

When I started out,
I dreamed of being middle class.

I wanted a family, a house, a business.

I never thought I'd get married
to pay bills, like normal people.

But, while I was in San Vittore prison,

my wife had to pay the bills.

Mariangela had gone back
to live with her parents.

She'd found a little stay-at-home job
to support herself and the little one.

She sewed clothes for dolls -
a thousand lire per garment.

I wasn't formally affiliated with the clan
because of my father's mistake,

so nobody looked after my wife
while I was gone.

We couldn't go on like this.

So, I stepped up the game.

What a load of shit.

Car trafficking,
compared to gangster business,

really is a good thing.

It's on 118,000 kilometers. Keep it low.

The Gaetanis had set up
an efficient system.

You earned a lot without much risk

and it was clean -

well, almost.

Look. There's a hole there.

Two thousand less
for that mark on the wood trim.




and three.

-Sorry, but it's 15 million.
-What do you mean?

We said 15 million.

-We said 7.5.
-Yeah, 7.5 each.

Stay out of this.

I've fucked your sister
for four and a half years.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

-You leave my sister out of this.
-Don't go all Japanese on me.

Second thing, real estate.

A convention center here,
a 28-apartment building there,

and before you know it
we've covered the suburbs in concrete.

Getting subcontracts in your pocket
was easy and not too risky.

Almost everyone knew that dealing with us
meant one thing - earning.

But there were some who didn't understand.

And then, there were the miracles.

I can honestly say, I've never
killed anyone who didn't deserve it.

Mobsters who knew the risks
they were facing.

There were many more to come
after Spadafora.

It was part of the job.

They were redundant
and I had to make cuts.

I'm not proud of it,
but sometimes it's necessary.

It's the law of capitalism.
Ça va sans dire.

My wife had no idea, like I told you.

Keep her out of this.

Follow me. I'll show you the first room.

Here we have a lovely bright open space,
as you can see,

with a great view of Milan.

This room gets the light all day long,
from the south, the east and the west.

-Do you like it?
-Yes, it's beautiful.

I couldn't have found an honest job now.

What prospects did I have?

Earning 1.5 million a month?

How could I have carried on?

I've saved the best part
of the house till last.

Let's end this with a bang.

-You go ahead, we'll follow you.
-Come with me.

-Do you like it?

-You don't seem convinced.
-Why? No, I like it.

If you're not sure, we won't take it.

No, let's take it.

-Shall we take it?

Watch out for the step.

Madam, sir, just look at this.

Isn't this the best terrace ever?

It's beautiful, Santo.
We're near the Madonnina.

Do you like it?

It would be amazing to live here.

Of course, darling. It's a status symbol.

Who's in charge here?



So how's it going?

All good.

-Everything alright?
-Will my baby be safe here?

I may just be parking them now,

but, when I make a bit more money,
I'm going to buy a showroom.



Shit! Fuck! Are you an idiot?
Didn't you see me?

Look at the damage! The damage!

The damage! Look at the headlights!

Look at that! Look at that!

Come on!

-You cut me off.
-No, sweetheart, this is your fault.

-There wasn't time--
-Cut it out.

Is there a problem?

Great. A knight in shining armor.

What did you say?

Look, handsome, let's get this straight.

This toy is called a Porsche

and your stupid girlfriend just dented it.

-Look at the damage.

What do you mean, "so"?

-Look, we can sort this out now.
-No, don't worry, I'll take care of it.

Come on, apologize.

I don't think so. What for?

You don't want to apologize?

Look, read my lips. No!

-Thank you.
-Who the fuck do you think you are?

How about now?
Do you want to apologize now?

-Say sorry.

-I'm so sorry.
-On your knees.

-Thank you.
-I'm so sorry.

Tell her how sorry you are.

-Sorry. That's enough!
-Well done.

Now get the fuck out of here,

you fucker.

Got it?

Fucking faggot.

Get outta here.

Go on, get out.

Disappear. Well done.

Fuck you.

Some people!

Are you OK?

Yeah, he just swore at me.
These things happen.

Thanks for your help,

but there was no need.

Have a good day.

-Sorry, but have we met before?
-Not that I know of.

Maybe in Brera?

In Brera?

Yeah, in Brera. Somewhere...

Do you go to any of the events
at the Accademia?

Yeah, sure.

Yeah, sometimes.

Such as?

Oh, such as...

I can't think off the top of my head.

I'm not very good with names.

OK, then. Thanks again. Bye.

But I can tell that you're an artist.

-How can you tell?

By your French manner, the way you walk...

By my French manner?



It's just that I've got a penthouse

in the center of Milan

and I need to furnish it -
a loft, an open space -

and maybe you could help me.

I actually do murals and trompe l'œil.

Great. A mural would be perfect.
The walls are just so white.

If you give me your number...

Here's my business card.

I'm very busy
but I might be able to recommend someone.



You'll never get a woman like that.

Watch me.

-Look after my baby.
-Don't worry.

I thought, "Paris is dead.

It's full of pompous academics."

I was bored out of my mind.

So one day I packed my bags and left.

I like Milan.

The air's full of revolution,



My mother didn't take it very well.
She wanted me to stay in France.

She's worried about the kidnappings
and shootings.

-Indeed. We're talking Milan here...

But those times are over. Milan's changed.

You don't see criminals
or terrorists anymore.

No, there isn't the same context...

that there used to be,

the political situation...

Excuse me.

Are you ready to order?

Yes, I'd like the smoked trout
with violet polenta.

No juniper berries, please, I'm allergic.

For you?

The same.

Would you like some wine?

That would go well
with a nice dark wine from Langhe.

Ça va sans dire.


Which wine shall I bring?

The one the lady just asked for.

-Sorry, could you repeat--
-The one the lady asked for.

A Barolo reserve.

-Thank you.
-Perfect. We have a '72 in the cellar.

Excellent. Is that OK?

Yes, that's great.
Bring us that one, thank you.

-I'll bring it now.
-Thank you.

He's not...

It's not the name of a wine.

"Ça va sans dire" is an expression,

like, for instance, "it's obvious".

I know, I was just joking.

He just didn't get the joke.

Where did you study

to become a businessman?

The University of Buccinasco.

The University of Buccinasco
doesn't exist.

Yes, it does,
and it counts for more than yours.

Good answer.

You're nice for a businessman.

And you're very intelligent.

You can tell that you've studied.

When you speak,
you're just like a dictionary.

I'm just popping to the bathroom.


What do you want?

I've never been out
with anyone like you before.

What, a businessman?

Someone so unsettled.

Is that serious?

People go to a therapist
for stuff like that.

Well, you're wrong. I'm very settled.

Remember to put this back on
when you get home.

Look, it's not what you think.

It's your problem, not mine.

Where shall I drop you off?

Your house.

You can show me the apartment
I need to paint.

Of course.

My house.

You need to paint the apartment.
I'd forgotten.

As far as I'm concerned,

I never considered myself
part of the Gaetanis' 'ndrina.

I didn't want to be an employee.

I had the entrepreneurial spirit
in my blood,

like the great self-made men

who started with nothing.

By now I was a veteran,
so I wanted to do my own business

without having to follow
those two retards.

See how much space there is?

We'll need it once the business takes off.

Thanks to the Sicilians
from Trezzano sul Naviglio,

I met Michele Ventura.

Don't worry, I'll do it.

Tell me how it works.

Heroin's the future, Santo.

Trust this idiot

and you can earn 100 million a month
with your eyes closed.


We'll import the raw product
and refine it here.

We'll become all-rounders

and fill every street, square,
and lounge with gear.

We'll invest some of the profits in stocks

and keep the rest safe in Switzerland.

Does it sound ridiculous?
No, it's procedure.

In life, you need entrepreneurial spirit
and pragmatism, Santo.

Do you understand?

Ça va sans dire.

Sorry, how much?

A hundred million a month?

A hundred million a month.

Not bad.

Carlo Alberto, get a move on
or they won't let us into the nursery.

-Do you want some coffee?
-Yes, please.

Where were you last night?

Last night?

You came back at 2 in the morning.

Listen, darling, I've told you before,
we need to set a good example for him.

He picks up on everything.

I've been thinking.

I want to enroll Carlo Alberto
with the Salesians.

OK, find out about it
and we'll enroll him.

-I've already found out.

It's a long way from here.
It'll take me ages to walk him there.

I see.
This is about the apartment in town again.

Sure, it was lovely,

but we're better off in Buccinasco.

There's grass, the kids can play,
our friends are here.

Living right by the Duomo is stressful.

Traffic, smog, pollution,
not to mention the pickpockets.

I don't want our kids
to live in that mess.

-OK, maybe you're right.
-Of course I am.

What's wrong?

Nothing. Why?

I don't know. You seem down.

You're not very upbeat.

There's nothing to be ashamed of,
things have changed.

Maybe you should see a therapist.

I don't have a problem.

I'm not saying you do. Don't get me wrong.

-It's just that you seem a bit...
-A bit...?

You're unsettled.

Hey, Daddy's going to work.

Don't make Mommy cross.

Be a good boy.


I'll book an appointment.


You're not getting involved in drugs,
are you?

Be a good girl, darling.

Are you crazy?

Not even the Gaetanis
knew about Annabelle.

And I always denied it,
to be on the safe side.


-Take a close-up shot.
-Yes, later.

The mafia world is the same everywhere.

Buscetta was considered unreliable
because he had a mistress.

But I'll never believe
in the rules of honor.

If big fish like the Gaetanis

end up with one of their minions
in prison for a long stretch,

you can be sure that,

on the pretext of being helpful,

sooner or later,

they'll start coming on to his wife.

What's your line of work?

Write "businessman".

What exactly do you deal in?


Russo Limited.

We work on commercial
and residential projects.

Have you seen the new blocks in Segrate?

We built those.

If you need...

any kind of construction work, call me.

We'd give you a good price.
Ça va sans dire.

Thank you.


The time had come to expand the network.

The Calabrians were about to flood Milan
with heroin.

I was the one who had the idea
of drug sommeliers.

Big companies have focus groups
to test their products.

Why should we do any less?

Addicts try the gear
and see how long the hit lasts.

Based on their responses,
we knew what the gear was like

and set a price.

If you want to stay in the market,
customers need to like your product.

That's how I see it.

What's it like?

Good, huh?


Cut this one by four.

-Cut this one by four.
-By four.

I just told them. Why repeat it?

-Don't break my balls.
-Piss off.

So? What's it like?


It's not doing shit?

For fuck's sake!

Cut this one by two.

Fuck off!

Cut it by two.

He's taking it out on my cousin.

-Is he your cousin?
-Come on.

Hey, what's it like?

Fuck, he's dead.

Have we lost him?

What's it like?

Is it good?

Cut this one by eight.

-It's excellent.
-By eight!

Eight. Cut this one by eight.

The strength of us Calabrians

was that we didn't abuse our product.

If you do it, you become a liability.

The password is...


"Emphasy." Like sympathy, if you like.

We obey

movements that are "emphastic,"

fantastic, enthusiastic,

the marvel of pride,
infantile exhibitionism.

We have to be opportunistic

and specialists

in encyclopedic cyclopia

that makes us observe with one eye

among the voices of stylized life

classified by encyclopedias.

We all have to claim the right

to expatriation
to a fourth extraterrestrial world

protected from the "emphatonic" threat,

the planet of the "emphartic."

The planet of emphasis

that becomes art.

Well done!

That was great. It was really...

-Thank you.
-Giampi, this is Santo.

-Pleased to meet you.
-Pleased to meet you.

-But where's the artwork?
-He's the artwork.

Are you an actor? A mime artist?


I'm a concept.

What? What are you selling?
I don't get it.


And inspiration is abstract.

Are you taking the piss?

-Leave it.
-Selling inspiration.

Santo's a businessman,
he doesn't know what art is.

No, that's not true. I know what art is.

I haven't understood this concept
of inspiration and how it works.

Excuse us.

I'm talking to him.

I want to ask him how inspiration works.

Have you decided to ruin my evening?

Why are you here?
Don't you have stuff to do?

Have you forgotten
that this is my house too?

I thought we had an agreement.

Didn't we say this would be
an open relationship?

That's not...

Have you come over all Calabrian
all of a sudden?


I even agreed to share you with your wife,

I believe.


Mrs. Russo, come in.

Are you ready?

I think so.

Whenever you like.

I'm sorry, I'm a bit tired today.

So you already have two children?

You got married very young.

What else could I do?

Haven't you ever thought of working,
becoming independent?

When I look at my children
I feel fulfilled.

And that's fine with me.

And when you look at your husband?

When I look at my husband,
I think lots of things.

I wonder what's going on in his head.

My husband always has something
in his head.

Projects, ideas, ambitions.

What does he care about me?

If he can pay someone to listen to me,
that'll do.

After all these years of marriage,
I no longer know what he's thinking.

I don't even know if he really wanted me.

But he married me
and our kids mean a lot to him.

I'm not blaming him if he doesn't love me.

After all, he doesn't even love himself.

He wants to be a different person,
he wants a different life...

without me.

Do you think your husband
is cheating on you?

How dare you?

My husband's a respectable man.
How could you think that?

How did it happen?

They found him in the street.

He was completely out of it.

And with the gear on him.

Slim has always been a ticking time bomb.

He's completely out of control.

He's become a total liability.

Didn't you ever notice
that your friend was a junkie?

No, I never noticed.

We'll take care of it.

We've got another problem.

Call Bova.

The thing is, Bova's the problem.

Bova's the problem.

We've run into a problem
with the negotiations.

Slim's up to his neck in it.

In between the underworld and the state
are lawyers.

Careerists and rogues
who think of nothing but themselves.

People capable
of having another guy arrested

in exchange for their client's release.

And that's what Bova was trying to do.

Fuck Slim over
to get another prisoner released.

How much
did the guys from Trezzano pay you?

What are you talking about?


we've always turned a blind eye
to your status games.

We don't give a fuck about you
helping Judge Massari reach his quotas.

That's your business.

You're smart, he's a fool.

But have you by any chance
taken us for fools too?

Santo, I've done everything in my power
for Salvatore.

Objection. Bullshit.

This is what we'll do.

You speak to your friends at police HQ
and get my friend out.

We're giving you one more chance
to do your job.

What do they say?
"The customer's always right."

I can't do that.

I can't get out of it.

Santo, if I don't get their man out
the Sicilians will come looking for me.

So you have a choice to make.

It seems reasonable to me.

I've always told everyone
you're good at your job.

And you are good.

But nobody is indispensable.

Don't forget that.

Lord, bless this house.

Where's Santo?

He's not here.

He should go to confession
before the blessing.

Are you having problems?

My husband doesn't respect the vows
he made before God.

Don't make the same mistake.
Don't lose faith in marriage.

You don't know what he's capable of.

I don't want to know.

If Santo carries on sinning,
as a devout woman, you must pray.

You must pray for the salvation
of his soul and your children's souls.

Pray. Our Lady listens to us.

Will you promise that I'll see you
in church more often?

-I will.

I bless you
in the name of the Father, the Son,

and the Holy Spirit.


Come and have a drink. You're home now.

How you doing, Slim?

Good. You?

Now you're back, we need to talk.

We've decided. Bova has to die.

That bastard wanted
to leave you in prison.

He wanted to free
that fucking Sicilian instead.

We need to take him out.

Piece of shit.

You have to kill him.

Are you sure?

We all agree.

Who will take care
of our legal problems now?

When one pope dies,
another one takes his place.

I'm not sure I will be able to do it.

Do this favor for me.



You come into my house,
you fucking bastards?

Who are you calling?

Are the kids OK?

I've just put them to bed.
What's wrong? Who are you calling?

-I know who I'm calling.

What's wrong?!
Can't you see we've been robbed?


Santo, look at me. Everything's fine.

I don't need it anymore.

-What have you done to your hair?

I just don't need it anymore.

-You gave everything away?

I did it for you, for your salvation.

Your sins are now my sins.
There's no need to be scared anymore.

You're really not very well, darling.

You need an exorcist, not a therapist.

You don't understand.
Our Lady will show you mercy.

Even though you don't show it to anyone,

not even the people who love you.

Listen to me.

You know what you're going to do now?

You'll call them
and tell them to give you everything back.

Right? Everything.

Every single earring,

your fur coats, every fucking thing!

Understand? It's all mine,
I bought it with my fucking money!

Who did you call?
Who the fuck did you call?

Those pricks from Buccinasco parish, huh?

Or the ones from Corsico?

Call them and tell them
to give everything back! Got it?


Trust me, Santo. It's the only way.

What the fuck are you talking about?

What's wrong with you?
You almost killed him.

Marry me.

I know who you really are.

And I know, I'm sure of it...

that I can make you happy.

Listen, Carlo Alberto...

Daddy will always be here for you,
you understand?

Do you understand?

But you're going to be
the man of the house from now on.


Alright, let's get to the point.

I need you to tell Mommy something for me.

But you need to repeat
exactly what I tell you.

It's important.

If it's important, why don't you tell her?

No, she needs to hear it from you
or she'll be sad.

Do you understand?




Maybe not straightaway, but soon enough,

even Mommy will realize
that it's the best solution for everyone,

and even if
we're not living together anymore,

we'll never go without anything.

You know who I am, right?

Can I come in?

Come in.

I guessed this would happen
sooner or later.

Has he talked to you about me?

Yes, a few times.

-Miss Bermont--


Do you pray?

-Me? No.
-Of course not.

I won't judge you for that,
it's not my place.

May I sit down?


You think you know him, but you're wrong.

If he hasn't found the courage to confess,

then I need to do it.

For Santo's own good

and for the salvation of his soul.

His sins have become my sins.

I took his sins upon myself
because I loved him.

But from now on, you'll have to do that.

If you love him,
you need to be ready for that.

I don't understand.

Our Santo is a thief.

He's a murderer.

He's robbed, he's killed, he's kidnapped.

Him and his friends
from Corsico and Buccinasco.

A few years ago, you too might have
ended up in the trunk of his car.

Now do you see
why you need to pray for him?

Promise me you will.




It's a fundraising dinner.

Get your backpacks.

What did they expect?

My non-profit organization
does fundraising, not handouts, OK?

You mean these people
can't afford five million per table?


We're off.

Excuse me a moment.


Do you want a break?

I'm happy to carry on.

Very good.

Why did the Turks
and Attanasio have to die?

Sorry, what?

Why did everyone have to die?

It all kicked off after a massive swindle.

A scam.

We scammed the Turks
out of 100 kilos of heroin.

The Gaetanis and I managed to take
almost 100 kilos of heroin from the Turks

without paying a cent.

A particular kind of deal went down.

A gentlemen's agreement is what counts.

Unfortunately, things happen.
What can you do?

We were expecting a punitive raid.

We weren't dealing
with village idiots here.

But there was nothing. Nothing.

As time went on, we forgot all about it.

I don't know how they managed to find us.

They didn't even know my real name.
I'd told them to call me Gianni.


Kemal wants a word with you.

And that's what they called me
right up to the end.

Got it, Gianni?

I played the part of the idiot.

They were armed. What else could I do?

What happened afterwards
was simply a logical consequence.

What is it? Are you nervous?

What is it? I'm freezing.

You don't seem very upbeat.

Chill out, it's the last time.

They're coming.




Get the fuck out. Go!

That idiot Nuri

was arrested in Brescia
while he was dealing snow.

He grassed on me and told them everything.

I heard that he gave in
almost straightaway.

There's something from Mario, too.

I know it's not much.

You shouldn't have to deal with this.

Mario said
he tried to talk to the Gaetanis

but they're insisting
that you need to be patient.

What the fuck?

I'm not a subcontractor
who only gets paid when he works.

I'm only part of the organization
when it suits them.

They say they're not making any money.

Yeah, right.

The kids?

They're good.

I've got some good news.

I spoke to Tropea, the lawyer.

Another good one.

He's got you a transfer
to another facility.

-They're transferring me?


To Bergamo.

He says the conditions are better.

Excuse me, can I smoke in here?

I knew what was in Bergamo.
Or rather, who.

A colony of people from Platì.

All relatives of the Gaetanis,
friends and runners.

People who have been inside for years
and have years to go.

People who can't refuse
the local boss a favor.

It was obvious. They wanted to kill me.

What's wrong?

Aren't you pleased?

Isn't that what you wanted?

Whatever happens...

I want you to know that I love you,

even though I haven't said it much

and I've been a bad husband.

I love you.

You understand?

-You understand?
-Don't strain yourself.

See you next week.

I may even bring the kids.


I need you to tell me.

Do you love me?

Ça va sans dire.

What happened?

Nothing serious.
You'll be fine again soon.

You've got nothing to fear.

Repent, Santo.



Repentance has nothing to do with it,

At least have the decency to admit it.

You didn't call me
because you realized you were wrong.

You planned it carefully
to save your own skin.

Cost and benefit,
profit and loss, as usual.

It's your logic, Russo,

and it's more ruthless than you are.

Ça va sans dire.

So do we have a deal or not?

Ça va sans dire.







Get off my ass, you fucking pigs!




Take it easy.


Can we get a bite to eat? I'm starving.

Hold on a second.

Now, I'm the Calabrians' main target.

I always will be.

After the trial,
I never saw my wife or kids again.

Oh, well. This was the way
it was meant to be.

But I'll carry those losses with me
until I die.

I live in the middle of nowhere,

but at least I cannot bump into people
from Platì.

That would be very unfortunate.


-Is it a boy or a girl?
-A girl.


A boy. Can't you tell?

-You're not from here, right?
-No, I'm Italian.


Where in Italy are you from?

-I come from Milan.

I've met another person.
She doesn't know me at all.

-I'm from Calabria. Do you know it?
-Not at all.

She knows me by my fake name.

She could be the perfect partner
for my new life.

Am I right?


Subtitle translation by Gill Parrott