The Scent of Blood (2004) - full transcript

Carlo and Silvia are married for twenty years. He lives with a young lover, while Silvia lives in their original flat. Their 'regular' menage changes when also Silvia starts meeting other men, and in particular a young and violent neo-fascist. Carlo becomes obsessed by knowing everything about her wife's affairs and jealousy makes him blind. - stop by if you're interested in the nutritional composition of food
Do you know what those are called?

The seagulls?




The wolf!


Come on, you little boy!

The little boy is coming!

I had a wolf, a prince by nature.

A master of useless things.

And I became one too.

His nose in the air

searched for things
he could not find in the world.

I will recognize
your shaggy shadow everywhere,

you, wolf, who cannot be seen,
and on the street, they cannot hear him.

- Hello?
- Hi. How are you?

I'm fine.

So, what shall we do tomorrow?
Shall we go?

- Okay, that's fine.
- What time will you arrive?

- Late in the afternoon.
- Fine.

What did you do today?

I found a boyfriend too.

What do you mean?

Well, I met a guy in the street
who followed me.

Did he follow you? What did he say?

That I have such beautiful legs.

It's no wonder. I've always told you
you're such a beautiful, charming woman.

And what did you do?

I stopped to talk to him,
and then, we went to a bar.

What does he look like? Is he handsome?

No, but I liked him.

I see. How old is he?

He is 23 or 24 years old.

I could be his mother.


We must support

all democratic forces
in dictatorial countries.

Of course.

Society must also grow.
Demography is perceived as one's own.

It seems to be a negative thing,

as something they impose on you.

It's clear that
if you don't want to do it,

then it's fine...

Be reasonable. It was slaughtered
by the World War.

Of course, at least there was ideology.

But we are dealing with Germany,
which had Weimar.

China is different.

There's a romantic mood I like.

Excuse me.

- Everything okay?
- Yes.

Well, what do we do?

I'd rather go.

- But if you want to stay...
- No, it's fine. Let's go.

I have to be up early tomorrow.

- Let's make up our minds, please!
- No, we're not going back!

- No, let's go this way.
- Yeah,

maybe I'll get there from here too.

- Is it the right direction?
- Wait.


Excuse me a moment.

Who were you talking to?

That's my business.
There are no exclusives.

Was it a man?

Who was it?

- No.
- Come on. Tell me.

- No.
- Tell me.

Never mind. He's just a boy.

The boy I met the other day.

You gave him your number?

Oh, please. He walks up and down
in front of the house.

That's insane.

You know what? I think
I'm not going to the country tomorrow.

Go, please. Forget about it.

It's fine.

What does he look like?

He's strong

and muscular.

Is he tall?

He's not very tall,

but he's well-proportioned.

Is he hairy?

No, he's hairless.

He shaves because

he trains at the gym.


He has the cult of strength.

The cult of strength? What do you mean?

Oh, nothing. He's muddle-headed.

He's a misfit.

Did you know there's a young boy
who is after Silvia?

Did she tell you?

What does he look like?

She didn't tell me much.

I mean, she said he's...

She said he's strong and muscular.

- Are you jealous?
- No.

Of course, you're jealous.

No, but I was impressed.

She had a grimace on her lips
that I hadn't seen

in a long time.
In fact, I had only seen it once.

The first time we met.

We were in Piazza del Popolo.

She was staring at me with that grimace
on her lips. It was like...

a sexual expression, an orgasm.
Such a violent thing.

It seemed that we were making love
in front of everyone.

And then what?

We started dating,

but I never saw that grimace
on her lips again.

It vanished.

Last night I dreamt of Silvia.

We met on a long, dark staircase.

And passing by, she would slap
my face and then leave.

Then I would chase her

and enter her room.

And there, she became so sweet,

she welcomed me. And then...

I don't remember, she caressed me.

She was beautiful.

At night, I struggle
to find the right position.

Maybe it's because of that sprain.
Do you remember?

Humidity really hurts me, that's all.

Why don't you see a doctor?
There are massages

that would be good for you.

I know a doctor-

Silvia, will you stop worrying
about my health?

Are you in a bad mood?

No. What did you do last night?

I had dinner with some friends.

And what about your suitor?

He said he wanted to come and live here,

in our house. He said

he really likes this neighborhood.

I kicked him out and told him
that it was over.

Do you see each other often?


These boys are strange.

Why do you want to see him again?
Once is enough.

They are funny.

These boys even want to live
in your house?

I'll come to Rome
and throw them down the stairs.

Please, don't do that.

They are thugs.

"I can barely write because
my hands are shaking too much.

My bowels and my right eyelid
tremble as well.

Yesterday evening, at sunset,

in the silence, in complete calm,
the first mortar shell came.

Soon after, all hell broke loose.

I threw myself to the ground.

I was surrounded by explosions.

I was covered with dirt
while fragments whistled in the air.

The mortar fire lasted unceasingly
for about 20 minutes.

I was shaking a lot, but I was calm.

I thought about people I care about.

But in a confused way.

And I rationally searched
for the best way to protect myself. "

- Hello?
- How are you?

Oh, Carlo. What's up? Tell me.

No, nothing. I just wanted to say hello.

Do you know who came by the office today?

Giorgio Masetti.


He'll probably be the next director.

It can't be. That's impossible.

Of course, it's possible.

Then you can send him
your thug friends to beat him up.

- My thug friends?
- You said so.

I didn't say they are beaters.

We were in the club,

there was a big crowd,

and a drunk kid fell on me.

He slapped him twice.

I thought it had ended there,
and it was also

a nice thing, very 19th century.

But when we went outside,

they surrounded him
and beat the shit out of him.

I got scared,

and if I hadn't shouted,
who knows how it would have ended.

I see.

You know, it was just a fight.

A guy thing.

Of course. Do you often go to the disco?

Last night as well.
I came back at six in the morning.

Don't you get tired?

I'm exhausted.

I also got angry with them.

Why do we have to arrive
at the club at dawn?

Sorry, who are "them"?

My new friends.

Why do you keep saying "we"?

Tell me about your new friend.

We said there are no exclusives.

You always want to know too much.

I'll tell you what I want to tell you.

For this box, you have to use woodchips.

I'm on it.

Good boy.

Oh! Hey.


Excuse me.

What's up?

I'm just a little worried
because of Silvia's boyfriend.

Let it go.

It's not the first time
she's dating someone else.

Yes, but that was bullshit.

Why? What's so special about him?

I don't know. There's something
very strange about him.

He makes me worry. He's violent.

What do you want from her?

Maybe she's looking
for something different.

- Just let me meet her.
- You know her through me.

What about Panic eroticism?

About chaos and complexity?

There are no exclusives in love.

How many horses do you have left?

Santini's and the bay.

- Then I don't feed them.
- Fine.

You are terrified.

- Of what?
- Of all couples.

Of your friends,

of cheatings, lies.

What is it to do with you?

You're not like that.

You're different.

You're my wonderful woman.

One is not enough, you want two?

Doesn't mean you feel like it.

Don't ask too many questions, just fuck.



Whatever he writes to you

is 100 times worse
than what he might say to you verbally.

I am so evil.

I am jealous because...

I know that when it is over,
he will come back to you.

I knew you wouldn't like it.

Because you are stubborn
and you're not a woman.

I told you, it's a girl's movie.

But the film is about hospitals.
She bumps into the cot

on which he's immobilized, then she breaks
the tray and gets pissed on.

What's the meaning of it?

You don't understand.

- It's...
- What's the point of all this?

The sense of the film is that
even if he's a paraplegic,

he's the only one
who makes her happy in love.

The only one to make her enjoy it.

Come on! Come on! Go, go!

Take this!

Hit that!

Carlo, why don't you write
in the newspaper anymore?

I'm on holiday.

On holiday? What do you mean?

We really need someone
to explain to us what is going on.

I can't explain anything.

I get pissed off. I am getting old.
I can't hold back.

The newspaper is not the place for me.

And I am also writing my book.

Yes, I know,

but that's no reason not to write.

Giorgio! Come on, boys!

Dinner is ready.

Mara, please.

Alberto, sit next to me, please.

Silvia, take a seat.

- Please.
- Please.

It's not fair.

You always defend Dad!

How did it go?

Of course, this time...

How's it going with the young man?

It's nothing serious.

It's a trifle that will pass by itself.
It's just a crush.

You have left me so alone.

You don't know how empty this house was.

It was always empty.

What is he like?

He's a sicko.
He's a nervous wreck, poor guy.

Where do you meet?

We see each other sometimes.

Of course, but where?

Outside, at home.

Do you make love?

I like the way he walks around the house.

I like the way he fills empty rooms.

This house is always so empty.

Carlo, what is it?


Everything is fine.

"The still, warm air of a sunny midday

descends on the dead and wounded
arriving in trucks.

The assault is over now.

The last shots wander among
the flies and buzzing insects.

The two dead are carried
into the shade, already stiff,

under a canopy
where terrified women and children

cling to each other.

Blood drips from the truck,
from the stretchers, from the limbs,

backs and faces of the wounded,
who dab it on with their hands.

The heat and the insects increase
by the minute. The wounded

cover their heads
with rags and sheets of paper.

The most severely injured speak,
and gasp for air. They are very young.

Their gazes do not express
pain and fear; they focus

and coagulate, so to speak,

in a single feeling,

a fixed and collective one,
which is astonishment. "

Please, wait for that.
It must still be controlled.

You just don't understand. It's different.

It's a completely different way
of living, thinking, and speaking.

They're not like us and our friends.

They are not rational.

They do not reflect on others,
on themselves, on life, on the world.

They are spontaneous,

they are instinctive,
they are vital. And this...

This is strange. It's new to me.

Doesn't he have other interests?
Does he like soccer?

He's obsessed with the Orient.

That's something.

He doesn't read anything.
He and his friends beat each other up.

It's a martial art.

It's called kendo.

Yes, and they become bruised.

And then?

He spends every night
at discos and bars with his friends.

They have the cult of strength.

The cult of virility.

Does he study?

He went to university for a year.
He studied archaeology

but did not take a single exam
and dropped everything.

Doesn't he have parents?
What do his father and mother do?

I don't know.

He runs a computer shop.

He's a crazy, sick man.

I think he has also had
epilepsy attacks in the past.

I wonder what kind of family it is.

He always talks about power, he rants.

What's that got to do with family?
What's he ranting about?

Nothing. That's what he says.

He repeats what his friends say.

Do you guys make love?

We kiss each other.

Like kids.

You see, Silvia,

when a young man meets a lady like you,

he just wants to fuck her.


But if I think of all the days and nights

you left me alone to be in the country
with your girlfriend,

if I think of...

your constant escapes, l...

I was so foolish, obtuse, and dumb,
always waiting for you,

hoping that

you would come home and live
in those damn empty rooms.

When I think of all these months,
nay, years,

in which you have done nothing but leave,


I was only doing it to save our love,
the integrity and absoluteness

of our relationship.
Of course, now I understand.

It was all so abstract,
a foolish idealism.

But you know it has always been like that.

I know.

What are you doing tonight?
Are you going back to the country?

Actually, I was thinking
of staying in Rome.

Then, it's going to be trouble.


I would rather you didn't come home.


You'll embarrass me.

Why in the world?

Please try to understand.

No, I don't understand.

Is it because of this guy?

Well, not for this one in particular.

You have been away for so long.
Why are you going back to Rome now?

You know I have something to do.

Do you really have to?

- I want to see people.
- Keep it down, please.

Come with me.

Then I can't come to Rome?

Is that it?

Of course, you can.
If you want to come, then come.

But I'd rather you didn't.

After all, the country is close
and if you really need

a place to stay,
you can go and stay with Sergio.

Please try to understand.

No, I don't get it. I can't come to Rome

because you have to be with this guy?

Yes. I could never come to the country
because there was L?.

Do you remember?

Yes, but that's not the same.

No, it's exactly the same thing.

No, it's not the same!

Silvia, you kick me out

and at the same time, you tell me
you don't make love to this guy.

You're the one who said "no exclusives".

I don't want to talk about it.

He has just a few problems, that's all.

A few problems? Listen,

you must tell me who this boy is.
What is he like?

I've already told you.

He's young, muscular,

he's obnoxious, lonely, shaggy, ignorant.

He is also sick,
but above all, he is overbearing.

What else do you want to know?

Do you like him?

Yes, I like him.

You like him.


Why? I was so dumb to ask her why.

Because he's bossy.

That's all. He's young and muscular.

- Why, why, why.
- He's obnoxious, a sicko.

She is in love with him!

Why, aren't you?

Yes, but what does that matter?
We live here, in this remote village.

She and our friends live in Rome,
where everything is huge.

Where everything gets mixed up.

My house is in Rome
and I get kicked out of my house.

I get kicked out by someone
I don't even know, a hooligan.

Does she know me?

He slipped into my house
as if he owned it.

And, legally speaking,
I cannot claim anything.

The home is in her name.



- I'm leaving.
- Please come here.

- No.
- Come here.

- Come here!
- I don't like you! I don't like you!

L?! L?!

Will you listen?

I don't like you! I don't like you!

Will you listen? Huh?

I am only looking for a balance.

I was never jealous of her.
I left her have other loves.

Why won't she tell me about this one?
Why doesn't she...

tell me about this one?

I feel that she does not really tell me
what is happening to her.

She is lying to me.

Who are you talking to?

I am here with you! I'm here!

You made me fall in love
with Silvia as well.

She is proud. She doesn't care about us.

She's far better than us.

You're much smaller and meaner.

"Like other times, I could have been
picked up, taken prisoner,

and been dragged through malaria,
dysentery, and malnutrition for years,

here and there, in the forest.

I confess I was afraid.

I had nothing with me
to make even the smallest signal.

And if I had lit a fire,
as I could have done,

with its smoke, it would have attracted
the nearby helicopters.

But for far other,
even more dangerous reasons.

From time to time, a few leeches
would fall from the branches of the trees.

Sometimes they were easy to see

and could be felt the moment
they touched my shirt.

Other times, I would find them
already hanging around my neck.

And I had to pull them off,
already a bit swollen with blood.

I was worried about
the small wounds and the heat.

Far away, in the distant forest,

I thought I heard other noises,
similar to barbs.

Naturally, I called out,
hoping someone could hear me.

I was answered by the whistling
of birds and nothing more.

I lay on the ground,
paying no attention to anything.

In a state akin to anesthesia.

In a notebook I had with me, I wrote,

'In case of misfortune,
please give to Silvia. '

And I wrote the address
and telephone number

of our house in Rome. "

What's up? Is there anything interesting?

No, I just saw the door open and...

You break into other people's houses
just because you find the door open?

You don't even ask for permission?

Come on. Wait here.

Do you have a cigarette?

Do you have a light?

What's going on here?

We have visitors.

Good evening. Who are you?

I'm a journalist. I have...

I saw the door open and went inside.

Could you please show me your badge?

They usually call before coming here.

This is a cultural association,

not a public venue.

Well, I admit I came here unannounced.

I read the plaque and got curious.

It's fine. You can go now.

And tell your newspaper to call
if you want to talk to us.

Got it?


It's 3 a. m.

No, it's 4 a. m.

I couldn't fall asleep.

I looked for you.
I was so worried about you.

And you weren't here.

I got back five minutes ago.

- You have never been this late.
- I've been arguing with him.

Arguing? You weren't arguing.

Don't be a jealous husband.

Now, let's calm down and get some sleep.

You were arguing with him until 4 a. m.?

Like those who talk politics?

About what?

- He talks about the same thing.
- What thing?

Then he threatens.

He wants to come and stay here.

I'll never give him the keys.

At the price of...

At the price of getting fucked by a guy

who's been asking me for ten years.

What does it mean, now?

A guy who is been asking you
for ten years? What are you talking about?

You think I don't know why he wants
to come and stay here?

To show his parents, who bother him,

that he doesn't need them, that he found
a home, a woman who takes care of him.

Pure vanity.

That's just vanity and overbearingness.

He likes to threaten.

You just don't want him

to cause you too much trouble.

You see, you reached a compromise.

You kicked me out of our house.

And since the young man
can't get everything,

he has been satisfied anyway.

He's doesn't live here, but he's the boss.

Instead of me.

Get out, Carlo, please. Get out.



Oh, hi.

Hey, I stayed in Rome, at Sergio's.

I see.

Are you alone?

Yes. I ate something while watching TV,
and now, I'm going to bed.

Okay, see you tomorrow then.

Yes, I almost fell asleep.

Call me tomorrow. Bye.


Your keys.

No, thanks.

Anyway, the room is free.
I am happy if you live here.

And bring your stuff here.

You'll be more comfortable.


What's going on?

No, he sometimes comes in the evening.

Does he stay for dinner?

Sometimes. We talk.

You talk? About what?


What do you mean?

About what they do at night, about clubs.

Doesn't it bore you?

No. Yes, sometimes.


When he insists on coming home.
You know I don't want him to.

I don't understand why. I'm not there.

Because I don't want to.

He says that the only answer
to the world we live in is to do nothing.

I'm not interested in his theories.
I'm interested in you, in your feelings.

Why don't you let him come to our house

since he insists so much to live with you?

Just live this thing to the fullest.

Without holding back.

But you know I'm insecure.

Is he in love with you?

That's a big word.

Boys his age never talk about love.

They prefer other ways.

Do you think he's in love?

Well, I don't think so.

He already has

and can certainly have
as many girls as he wants.

He's a little bit attached.

What about love?
Do you do it all the time, every day?

I already told you.
Not all the time and not every day.

He likes to talk.

But then, despite all his arrogance,

in the end, he is so fragile. So weak.

He's full of scars.

Scars? What do you mean?

He has them all over.
He cuts himself with a razor blade.

Some parents should be strangled.

I'll be going now. Bye.


You're smart.

How's his dick?

What do you want it to be like?
Dicks are all the same.

That's not true. They're not all the same.
You know that.

What about the medical student?
The one you met in Milan.

You told me about him.

You didn't tell me
that he had it like the others.

That is true. He's got a beautiful cock.

What did it look like?


It had a strange shape.

How so?

It was flat, even though it was big.

A little thin at the base
and thicker at the top.

- Then, draw me a picture.
- No.

That's enough.

Come on.

You sound crazy.

Like this.

Here it is.

How about its texture?

It was so hard.

An iron bar.

But it's useless.

You didn't reach your climax.

No, it was too fast.

Then he'd immediately get hard again
and he'd start over.

And then you'd come.

Yes, sometimes.

It was like having an iron bar inside.

And he was distraught.

What do you mean?
Did he use to scream, to moan?

No, he was silent, but he was pale.
And when he reached his climax,

he would squeeze me like a vice.

And your boyfriend?
Tell me about his dick.

That's enough. Leave me alone.

Come on. You know I'm curious.

He's got a normal one.

It means nothing.

What do you want me to say?

It's normal.
It's proportionated to his body.

Which means?

Carlo, please!
I've told you a thousand times.

He's strong, tall, and muscular.

If I had a son, I would want him
to be like that. Is that okay? That's it.

It's a maternal feeling.

You know, Carlo,

it's an irrational thing,
and it makes absolutely no sense.

It has no future and it must end

as soon as possible.

But you're not capable of ending it.

I told you.

I have a feeling, an attraction.
I can't deny it.

You've said it a thousand times.

Yeah, that's it.

It must end by itself, naturally.

Wasn't it also for you
the same thing with L??

No, it was something completely different.

You also say you have
a paternal feeling for that girl.

Yes, I do.

But it's not the same thing.
She's not sick.

Everything here is sick, including you.

Are you interested in my opinion?
Do you trust me?

How could I not trust you?

You're the man of my life.

The one I love the most.

Silvia, my dear,

my poor darling.

Thank you.

You know, I told you a lie some time ago.

One night you called me
and asked me if I was alone at home.

Well, I wasn't.

I guessed that.

But you'll never guess what I was doing.

That's as far as I go.

I was giving him a blowjob.

Do you always make love like that?

Every night, even several times.

And why a blowjob?

Because he likes it.

Where were you?

On the couch.

- Which couch?
- The one in front of the door.

And was he standing, or was he sitting?

He was sitting on the armrest.

And you were blowing him
just as the phone rang?

Yes, I didn't answer

because I wanted to finish.

It didn't last long.

No, it had been going on for a while.

Does he prefer blowjobs to love?

I never have much desire
to make love to him.

But I like taking it in my mouth.


I don't know.

I've never liked it with anyone.
But with him, I do.

And then he comes in your mouth?

Yes, he does.

That's what I like.

I like to take it in my mouth.

And swallow it.

Listen, let's do this.

You dump this kid and I'll dump mine
and we'll get back together.

That's a matter to consider.

I got butt-fucked.

But you never wanted to. You said it hurt.

Of course, it hurt.

Why did you do it?

Because he wanted to.

Did you enjoy it?

Yes, in a way.

In what way?

It's hard to tell.

Try to think about it.

He wanted it. He wanted it so bad.

So, you felt more desired?

Maybe I did.
But I don't really understand.

It was a surprise to me too.

So, you felt more possessed?


I saw Silvia.

What? You saw her?

- Are you sure it was her?
- Yes. I'm sure.

Was she with the young man?

What do you care? Yes, she was with him.

What did he look like?

He's handsome.

Do you think...

I could get along with a guy like that?

No, you wouldn't get along at all.

How do you know?


I know guys like him.

There were also among my schoolmates.

There's something different about them.

- A tension, something nervous...
- Stop it.

- in their looks.
- Stop it.

- In the way they move.
- Stop it.

Their bodies are beautiful,

agile, light, athletic.

Stop it!

- They're tense, nervous.
- Will you stop it?

You're boring. You're old and boring.

You bore me. They are athletic, beautiful.

They're muscular and gymnastic.

I'd love to meet one of them, okay?

Don't you understand me?

Huh? You don't understand?
You don't understand me?

Words are used to clarify.

But you like to twist them.

You twist them and you misunderstand me.

You make me say things that I never said.

So, what am I supposed to do?

Huh? What can I do
if I want to talk to you?

You don't want to listen to me!
I become a beast. You know?

I can even kill you.

I need you to understand my words.

No! Your words make me sick!

They don't say anything!

What they really mean is "shut up".

You scare me. You make me sick.

Leave me alone. You disgust me.

Then, why don't you explain?

Where am I wrong? Tell me. Explain.
What am I doing wrong?

This is not about you character only,

it's about your whole education.

- You don't care about words!
- Who are you referring to?

You. Your generation.

You don't know how to listen or speak.

- You can't articulate a speech!
- It's true, I don't listen to you

because I'm paralyzed.

Your gestures frighten me.

They are restrained, stingy,

more and more controlled.

And your words don't reach me
because of the confusion I have.

I'm so afraid!

And then I feel alone because

I can no longer be on your side.

I'm no longer your little girl.

Anyway, I'm not going to Rome.

I have to work tomorrow.


There you are, Carlo.

Didn't you listen to my voicemails?

Yes, sorry. Look, I got busy and...

Did you come back early?
Where have you been?

Someplace rocky.


Listen, Carlo, can you come to Venice?

To Venice?
Are you always wandering around?

I have to work the day after tomorrow.

I'll come the day after tomorrow.

No, Carlo, can you come right away?

Right away.

I don't know.
Look, maybe I'll call you later.

- Bye.
- Bye.

No, no, don't open it, please.

Thank God, you made it.

All this hurry and...

What happened?

We had an argument.

We quarreled.

But I took the chance.

It was a good time to cut the cord.

In short, we broke up.

He also agreed.

He's not stupid. He too has flair.

He felt it was time
to end this absurd thing.

Why is it absurd?

Why? Because it makes no sense.

It's nonsense.

He's got a difficult character.

He's crazy, he's sick,

he's so arrogant.

Give me some examples.

Well, I don't know.

A practical example.

No, Carlo. Please.

It would be better
not to talk about these things.

Tell me, Silvia.


I don't know. At the seaside,

we had an argument over a trifle,
a little thing.

He said, "I'm fuckin' bored.
I don't want to stay here. "

At the seaside? Where?

In Porto Santo Stefano.

Which the hotel?

- I won't tell you that.
- Why?

- What's wrong with it?
- It's no good for you or me.

But you told me the place.

- No. I said no!
- Why don't you tell me which hotel?

Yes, go on, please.

It's nothing.

He had no swimming costume
and I told him I was giving it to him.

We went into a shop.

He went to pick out his swimming costume
and made a lot of fuss about that too.

I was reading the newspaper
and I got distracted.

Then we went out.

And then he said, "I'm fucking sick of it.
I can't take it anymore!"

He was so grumpy. And I tried my best

to figure out what could have happened
so suddenly.

We went on like that until the evening.

Only at night did I learn why.

Why? What was it?

I had forgotten
to pay for his swimming costume.

I had forgotten about him for a second
while reading the newspaper.

He wasn't angry about the money

but about my distraction.

I had said I was giving it to him

and then forgot to pay for it.

He didn't behave like a bully,

he's just so childish.

Let's stop talking about it.

This is not overbearing.

Carlo, please, I don't want to talk.


It's not that much.

You don't think he'll hit me, huh?

On the contrary.

He's always so kind.

Of course, I bet it.

I mean, he's overbearing.

You haven't told me why.

For example, he came with a friend of his,

a guy he goes to bars with at night,
a pleb.

And he wanted this pleb to fuck me.

Did he watch all the time?

No, no. We went to the bedroom.

Did you like it? I mean, did you enjoy it?


Why? Did the pleb fuck you well?

It wasn't what I liked.

What, then?

To please him.

You mean your boyfriend?


Why? You think he'd like that?

Because he asked me to.
Because he wanted to.

And what was he doing in the meantime?

He was listening to records
in the living room. I don't remember well.

How long did you make love?

Ten minutes or so.

- Then you went back to the living room?
- Yeah.

We went back in there and the pleb said,

"What a great fuck.

She's such a hot chick. "

And then?

Then we went out
and stayed out till sunrise.

We went to some bars.
I can't even remember where they are.

To do what?

To drink cappuccinos.

He drinks ten cappuccinos a day.

What is it now? Why are you crying?

Because I'm sad.

Why did you break up?

I'm suffering because
I won't see him again.

Do you?

Just whistle and he'll be back.

You don't know him.

Has this happened before?
Has he come back?

Just run after him,
ask his forgiveness, and you're done.

It's not so easy.

In the next days,
he'll find so many chicks.

Besides, he's young.

It's all jokes to him.

Kid's jokes.

And it's not the same for you.

Is that so?

He'll be back, you'll see.

He'll be back.

No, please. I'm not in the mood for it.

Maybe in two or three days.

I beg you.


No, of course, but it's...

It's really a way for enjoying art.

Of course, you like it.
The artist is your friend.

- I have nothing against him.
- It's a pact with people.

- It's a moralistic story.
- It's a commitment.

- It's very banal.
- Yes.

While talking about the artist,
we're forgetting about something else.

That is, whether the city can be
or cannot be used

as a showcase for an art exhibition.

Yes, but it's in front of the church.

That one too. Come on.

Our opinion, instead,

- regarding the statue of Napoleon...
- Is an anathema!

- No, come on.
- Why not?

But it's not the church.

There's one at the station too.

The spirit of the city.

It's not a characteristic.

You know, this city

has always been open to modern art,
which has not happened

in Rome or Florence,
which are cities of art.

Not by chance,
the Biennale was born here, in Venice.

So, it is one, one...

It is a characteristic of the city
that has opened up to modern art.

And this juxtaposition is so beautiful,

as are these absurd things,

these strange figures
coming from another world.

Because they come from another world.

And they are put inside...

- I'll make light now!
- No, leave it closed!

Enough! I'm sick of this shit. Got it?

- What are you doing?
- I'm sick of it!

I love you.

Let's make love.

Now, it would be so much nicer.

What are you saying?
I was about to strangle you.


Does your boyfriend

ever ask you for money?

He doesn't need any.
He come from a rich family.

But do you give him any?

Yes, but he doesn't want it.
He even gives me little presents.

Very nice, I must say.

For example?

I don't know.
Some music cassettes, a bottle of perfume.

Who pays for your dinners?

Do you usually pay, or does he?

We usually split it 50-50 or...

Sometimes I pay and sometimes he does.

And you say you love me?

Of course, I love you.

Why don't you tell me where to find you?

I'll call you from time to time.

Do you think I need you?

I said I'll call you!

But this is crazy. Do you realize?

I love you.

My life is with you.
We have lived together for 20 years.

Nothing crazy is happening.

Whatever happens, happens.
It's real, therefore it is rational.


One thing is certain.

I will never give him
the keys to our house. Never.

You gave him those of your heart,
of your body. It's all the same.

But the house is yours too. It is ours.

I love you too.

You think you love me because
we have lived together for so many years.

Out of habit, out of will,
because you want to, but you love another.

It's not like that.

It is not true. It's not true!

You want it not to be true!

But you know how true it is!


Come here.

Come on.

It's nice here.

What's that noise?

I don't know.

It sounds like a ritual, a party.

Are you leaving this town?

Yes. There's a better place in Parma,

and they pay better.

And they also have amazing horses.

So, are you moving to Parma?

I'm going. We'll see.

What about your book?

Well, l...

It's slow going.

Forget it.

Go back to work outside.

I don't know.
I don't feel like it anymore. I don't...

I don't want to travel anymore.
I'm getting old.

Will I see you again?

Of course, you will.

Carlo, are you serious?

Yes, you know that I came here

very little lately.
Believe me, it's better this way.

What about Silvia?

I haven't seen her in a while.

Let's have dinner now,

then you leave, okay?

I made amazing spaghetti just for you.


You see, Carlo, she likes to sweat,

to fight against her horses.

How long can she last
in the Po Valley? She'll be back.

Maybe with L? I have the chance

to live a few more years.

We could try to have children.

To have a late family.

Which remains to be seen because L?

has such a temperament,
a very strong vital force.

I don't know how...

how she would be with a man
so much older than her.


Perhaps even worse than me.

A kind of adopted son, eager to be adopted

by an older woman.

A capricious one, domineering.

One that can appease her.

What are you saying, Carlo?
What are you talking about?

Sorry, I talked too much.

It's getting late. I'd better go.

I'll come and see you tomorrow.

- Gladly.
- Come on.

- Bye.
- Oh.

- Yes.
- Bye.



She's dead.