It's not difficult to predict for this story of mine
biased, ambiguous and scandalized judgments.
In any case, I want to state here and now that however la ricotta is taken,
the story of the passion, which la ricotta indirectly recalls,
is for me the greatest event that has ever happened
and the books that recount it the most sublime ever written.
Damn it.
Got a temperature?
Stracci, you're finished.
Yes, of course.
I slept outside last night. The garbage man woke me up.
Then you're not eating?
Not eating? Yeah, right.
Better hide your lunch, or I'll eat that too.
What did you say?
That reminds me: The wife and kids are coming to eat today.
Who knows what saint will help me.
You've got your pick here today.
With all these saints, it's like a museum around here!
Anything wrong with the saints?
St. Sly there stole from god to feed the dog.
Just look how it eats:
Caviar, steak...
saints, did you eat the whole last supper?
I'm a poor starving man.
Nothing left? You ate it all?
Shut up or I'll excommunicate you.
The crown.
The crown!
Places, everyone! We're ready!
The record!
Not that one!
You're worse than the men who rolled dice at the foot of the cross!
Publicans! Blasphemers!
The Scarlatti record!
Camera!
2050, take one.
Action!
Come on, prompter. Do your job.
O sorrowing spirit.
O bewildered mother's son.
O desperate mother's son.
O martyred son.
O chaste, rose-pink son.
O peerless son.
No, Valentina!
What's with that face? This isn't the comédie française!
Action!
O sorrowing spirit.
O bewildered mother's son.
O martyred son.
Get the negro out of there!
Sonia, remember you're at Christ's feet!
Stop thinking about your dog!
Camera!
2,050, take three.
Action.
Prompter, wake up!
O sorrowing spirit...
half-wits! Now we'll have to start all over again!
Sonia, step out please. We've got to start again.
- Camera. - 2,050, take four.
Action.
Amorosi, stop picking your nose and take your position!
Giovanni, did you get some lunch?
Here it is.
Eat up.
- What about you? - Me?
I'm out of luck, as usual.
What can you do?
Enjoy it.
Thanks, Giovanni. See you tonight.
- Where are you going? - I've got business.
I'm gonna get work as an extra.
- Where are you going? - I've got business too.
Finished the whole thing already?
What an appetite!
I want to go to Terracina
and have lunch on the plain
I'll eat a cow whole and a sheep still in its wool
you look like my dad.
Idiot.
Hey, you bastard!
That's my lunch!
Damn you!
Drop my lunch or I'll throttle you,
you dirty thief!
Bastard!
Think that was a nice thing to do?
Think you're better than me 'cause you belong to a star?
May I have a word?
Excuse me. I hope I'm not disturbing.
I'm a journalist.
Go on.
I'd like to get a little interview.
- No more than four questions. - Thanks.
First: What do you mean to express with this new work?
My intimate, profound,
archaic Catholicism.
What do you think of Italian society?
The most illiterate masses
and the most ignorant bourgeoisie in Europe.
And what do you think of death?
As a Marxist, I never give it any thought.
Fourth and last question:
What do you think of our great director Federico Fellini?
He dances.
Thank you, congratulations and good-bye.
"I am a force from the past..."
it's a poem.
In the first part, the poet describes certain ancient ruins
whose style and history no one any longer understands,
and certain hideous modern buildings that everyone understands.
Then he resumes:
"I am a force from the past.
Tradition is my only love.
I come from the ruins, churches,
altarpieces, forgotten hamlets
in the Apennines and the foothills of the alps
where dwell our brothers.
I walk the Tuscolana way like a madman,
the Appian way like a dog without a master.
I behold the twilight, the mornings over Rome,
over 'ciociaria',
over the world,
like the first acts of post-history,
which I witness by privilege of birth
from the utmost edge of some buried age.
Monstrous is the man born
from the bowels of a dead woman.
And I,
adult foetus,
wander, more modern than any modern...
in search of brothers...
who are no more."
Did you understand anything?
Sure, a lot.
You walk the Tuscolana way...
write down what I tell you.
You understood nothing because you're an average man, right?
Well, yeah.
But you don't know what an average man is.
He's a monster.
A dangerous criminal.
Conformist,
colonialist,
racist,
slave trader,
a mediocrity!
Have you got a bad heart?
No, thank god.
Too bad, because if you were to drop dead right here,
it'd be good publicity for the film's release.
You don't exist anyway.
Capital acknowledges the existence of labour
only insofar as it serves production.
And the producer of my film is the owner of your paper as well.
Good-bye.
- What are you doing picking flowers? - Nothing else to do.
Nothing else to do.
- And what are you waiting for? - That's our business.
Your business.
What a nice dog. What kind is it?
What breed is it? A Pomeranian?
He's adorable.
What's his name?
Bastard.
He's so sweet. If he could just talk, he'd be perfect.
You like him?
A lot!
- Want to make a deal? - What kind of deal?
I'll sell him to you.
I don't have much on me. Will you take a check?
Give me a thousand lira and we'll call it even.
I've got a thousand lira. Here.
Cheese man!
I'll buy all you've got!
The good thief!
Nail them up.
Here I am.
Come on, slaves. Nail me up.
Climb on and I'll nail you down good.
Boy, I ate too much. My stomach's about to explode.
- Did you eat, Stracci? - What kind of question is that?
Here, Stracci, have a bite.
You thirsty? Want a drink?
Natalina!
Come here a minute.
Whaddaya want?
Don't make a fuss. Come here.
Listen, do us a favour.
Do a striptease for us. See Stracci over there?
You have to do it in front of him.
What have you got to lose?
We'll pay you. Come on.
Give us a tune.
Play some of that Arab music.
What are you waiting for?
Start stripping.
Silence!
Musician, don't swallow your instrument!
- Begone, she-devil! - Flower of the orient!
Ali Baba's mistress!
Carry the crosses up.
Get a move on with those crosses! You're like slugs this morning!
We ought to have a whip!
Run! Come on, run!
Start the record, please.
Come with me.
Ettore, you're some angel! What are you doing?
- I can try, can't I? - Try spreading your wings.
She's the one who should have done the striptease.
What scene are you setting up?
Listen, darling, you shoot my scene or I take off. Fair is fair.
Right. I'd forgotten.
Do the other scene.
Leave them nailed down.
Leave them nailed down!
Take it easy.
I'm hungry. I'm gonna start cursing.
You do and I'll let you have it.
A fine Christ you are. Think I've got no right to grumble?
Suit yourself, but I won't take you into the kingdom of heaven.
I'd settle for the kingdom of earth.
Especially now that your party's in power.
As if yours is any better? They're all the same.
I don't get you.
You're always hungry, yet you stay with those who starve you.
Some have one calling, others another.
My calling must have been to starve.
Places, please. We've no time to lose.
Get the seamstress out of there!
Put on the record.
No, not that one, you heathens!
Remember, the director wants you to keep perfectly still.
- Camera. - 442, take one.
Action.
No, not like that.
Do it again. More rapture, more piety.
No, I told you to keep still.
Stop waving those arms around.
Stop!
You're a figure on an altarpiece. You got that?
What a shame! What a shame!
I'll bash your heads in, you lazy cowards!
You have no respect, you blasphemers!
Yes, ma'am.
Let's start again.
Camera.
Imploring, you hear? And keep still!
- 442, take two. - Action!
There goes the sun.
Farewell, Phoebus.
Unnail them.
How funny!
It's "the Stracci show"!
Give him something good to eat!
Suck on these!
Watch out for the little chicks!
Here, rinse your mouth out.
That's enough appetizers. Have some spaghetti.
The lightning and thunder! Quick, you idiot!
Let's have some thunder now!
Now the wind!
So you finally found us in this wasteland!
Welcome!
Hey, Stracci, you remember your line?
Don't mess up now! All the press from Rome is here!
The producer's here! You understand?
Politicians, actors and actresses, journalists...
come on. Let's hear your line.
"Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom."
Once again!
Come on! What are you waiting for?
"Lord, remember me
when thou comest into thy kingdom."
Quiet.
Quiet! We're shooting!
Camera.
2,150, take one.
Action.
Come on, Stracci. "Lord, remember me..."
action!
What's the matter with him?
He's dead.
Poor Stracci.
He had to die to remind us that he too was alive.
The end
dinieghista