Original subtitles

"There is always a time when lost peoples

go towards simple ideas."

"The wise brutality of strong men."

"In us they find an outlet for their rancor."

"The escape from the mortifying sense of their own impotence."

"The hope of, as if by miracle,

overturning their unsatisfactory destiny."

Salute to the Duce!

Duce! Duce!

"All it takes is the right words, simple words. Direct. The gazes."

"The right tone."

And Italy, under the guidance of the Littorio,

will arrive to well-being, to power and glory!

Duce! Duce!

"And then you love us. You venerate us."

There would never be, I say never!

Duce! Duce!

Duce! Duce!

"You loved me madly."

"For 20 years you adored me and feared me like a deity."

Duce! Duce! Duce!

"And then you hated me, madly hated me,

because you still loved me."

"You ridiculed me, mutilated my remains,

because you were afraid of that mad love...

..even in death."

"But tell me, what was the point?"

"Look around you... we are still among you."

Mhm...

Mhm...

My name is Mussolini Benito Amilcare Andrea,

by Mussolini Alessandro and Maltoni Rosa.

I am 35 years old and I run a newspaper that I founded myself.

I owe my name to my father's socialist faith.

Andrea like Andrea Costa,

founder of the Revolutionary Socialist Party of Romagna.

Amilcare, like Amilcare Cipriani, patriot, adventurer,

socialist and convinced anarchist.

Benito, like Benito Juarez, also a revolutionary

and the first indigenous person to hold the office of President of Mexico.

I therefore owe my name to an indigenous person.

A guy who was just 1.37 meters tall.

A little man. Nothing to do with me.

Apart from the revolutionary spirit.

Today, March 23, 1919, is a historic date.

I am like the beasts, I feel the coming times,

and this is "my" time.

Here are my lost people...

...in need of strong men and simple ideas.

The desperate, the crippled. The veterans of the Great War.

Oh, Dumini, how are you?

See you at dinner, Volpi.

You know what the Great War is, right?

1914-1918. Europe in flames!

Four years of battles, from Russia to Italy.

Ten million dead, 21 million wounded,

and an unquantifiable number of veterans, desperate people.

Them! Who are here for me.

Albino Volpi. Repeat offender. Volunteer. Caiman of the Piave.

Brave soldiers. They promised them rewards, prizes,

the honor of victory.

And instead nothing. Not even the pension.

Only the contempt of those who didn't want the war

and didn't wage it.

Amerigo Dumini, an American indeed,

but he chose to wage war for Italy.

Assault battalion and the company of death.

In this rotten hour of peace,

the men of war without a place in the world,

dismissed on the spot, like a servant,

are my men. I feel their anger, their hatred.

I have only them and they have only me.

It is with shoddy material, with humanity's left overs, the last ones,

that history is made.

Their anger is stoked, they put bombs

and pistols in their hands.

And with them... I will make the revolution.

Us!

Us, who kicked the country into war

and led it to victory.

Us, who shed blood for the fatherland.

Today we found the Fasci di Combattimento!

For the future, the vanguard, the revolution!

Today fascism is born!

Yes!

Fascism, a beautiful creature,

made of dreams, of ideals, of courage, of change,

that will conquer millions and millions of hearts.

I'm sure, yours too.

Follow me, you too will love me.

You too will become fascists.

At a glance, there were about eighty of them.

It was a good thing they took the small room, we were spacious there too.

If we were still at war,

I would shoot you for defeatism, Cesarino.

Come on, Benito, admit it yourself that you were expecting something more

than those four empty heads.

Heads don't count, hearts count.

- Benito. - Good evening, good evening.

You can't look ahead, Cesarino,

we built a house for our people,

if there was too much room, even better, there was room for others.

Cesare, there will come a day when Piazza Duomo won't be enough, is that true or not?

100, 200 members of the Fascio and I'm keeping low, eh.

Because out there there are millions as angry as beasts.

Mh. Oh, there's Mussolini!

- What the fuck did he want? - Now you'll understand.

"Cesare Rossi.

Trade unionist, revolutionary.

He has the smallest hands I've ever seen in my life."

...we are the ones who want to occupy with our power...

"I don't dare imagine the dick, but the brain, that one yes,

he has a pretty big one.

But you don't need his intelligence to understand who that was."

Mussolini, you wanted war and you got it! Are you happy?

Poor thing, he got hurt.

Poor thing, Mussolini.

During a drill, though. He finished the war in the hospital.

Poor thing, he couldn't get out of bed, the sickly guy.

- Traitor! - Traitor!

Socialists.

The socialists, the sons of those who two years ago, in Russia,

kicked out the Tsar's ass.

The great Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov, known as Lenin.

To the traitor Mussolini!

To the traitor! To the traitor! To the traitor!

"Brotherhood, equality, power to the people."

I admit it, there are also good people.

Some care about the workers, the last, the exploited.

They know many fine words, but facts...

...are scarce. And I know it well, I was one of them.

(MAN SINGS "RED FLAG", A SOCIALIS HYMN)

Hey!

Hey! Hey!

Fierce and plastic, necessary.

As violence should always be.

Ah-ah.

"It will triumph"...

Good evening. Come in.

Benito, but clear up a doubt for me, were we born to make a revolution

or to beat up socialists?

Because it seems to me that it still stings you. - Stand still!

Nothing stings me. I don't give a damn about socialists.

- Good evening. - Good evening, director.

I have my people, me. People that will expand to their members.

Workers, laborers,

and with them we will defeat this rotten liberal democracy.

- But where are you going? - To wage war on the world.

The war is not over, not for us. The war is us!

Good night, Cesarino.

"Margherita. The only woman in the world that I listen to.

Rich, cultured, refined, and she is mine.

So, what do you think?

- Do you know what I like best? - Hmm...

"We ask, we ask, we ask"...

- And what do we ask for? - Don't you like what we're asking for?

Nationalizations, expropriations, seizure of Church's assets,

workers running factories, are you more to the left than the socialists?

Except that the socialists will never do it.

They promise, but they don't have the courage.

An eternal wait for the revolution.

We want.

We want?

My savage does not ask, my savage takes.

We want.

"We want, and what we want we shout.

And what we want, we pursue to the death.

Without the thousand ifs and buts. The infinite flaccid distinctions

and stammerings of the socialist theater.

This is how politics is done.

And this is how a newspaper is made. My newspaper.

Il Popolo d'Italia. Big headlines, dry slogans,

straight, straight to the stomach of the reader.

Not like that Socialist toilet paper of Avanti.

I directed it, and then..."

You today...

..today you hate me,

because you still love me!

Warmonger! Traitor! Go away!

Traitor!

- Go away! - Down with the war!

It is a terrible irony to shout "down with the war"...

...while we are fighting and dying in the trenches!

Socialism is something that is rooted in the blood.

- Mussolini! - Traitor! Warmonger!

Do not think that by tearing up my membership card,

you will forbid me the socialist faith.

That you will prevent me from working again for socialism

and for the revolution!

- Traitor! - I tell you from this moment...

Warmonger!

...that I will have no forgiveness, I will have no mercy for all the reticents

and for all the cowards! - Out of the party!

Traitor! Traitor!

I have given you 12 years of my life!

12 years!

"I will have no mercy for all the reticents and for all the cowards!"

Good evening, rabbits!

Cowards!

Forward, comrades, forward!

Let's go!

Bastards!

Latest news of tonight, the Avanti is burning.

No! No!

Uh, uh, the Avanti is no more!

Uh, uh, the Avanti is no more! Uh, uh, Avanti is no more!

Uh, uh, Avanti is no more! Uh, uh, Avanti is no more!

Uh, uh, Avanti is no more!

Uh, uh, Avanti is no more!

Uh, uh, Avanti is no more!

Well done!

This is the first act of the civil war!

Yes!

Long live Mussolini! Long live Mussolini!

Long live Mussolini!

"Dear Mussolini, the die is cast. I leave now."

"Tomorrow morning I will take Fiume with an army."

"May the God of Italy assist us. I am hectic,

but it is not possible to postpone."

"Once again the spirit will tame the miserable flesh."

No, no and no! Damn God!

You dickhead!

Gabriele D'Annunzio, great poet, hedonist, refined aesthete,

triumphant seducer, ace of the skies and war hero.

The most famous living Italian in the world.

My people adore him. They venerate him.

And how can you not admire him? He is a superman.

One who in the midst of the war flew to Vienna,

bombing it with tricolor leaflets.

And what does the superman do now? He goes to Fiume.

What is Fiume?

An unknown continent? Atlantis? El Dorado?

A tax haven?

No.

It is a rock on the Adriatic Sea.

A useless outpost on the eastern borders of the homeland.

A cluster of houses that no one would give a shit about,

had it not become a symbol.

It was supposed to be assigned to Italy by the allies at the end of the war.

And instead, nothing!

They gave it to the Yugoslavs. And what does our government do?

Nothing!

So, we started screaming.

What was the point of fighting, dying, winning?

A magnificent expression was coined for this,

and it has inflamed hearts with patriotism.

"Mutilated victory".

A mutilated victory.

Unfortunately, I didn't invent it.

It's him.

Always him.

And again him, he goes to take it back.

Another new, sensational, act of heroism.

Don't come in!

D'Annunzio left for Fiume, he wants to take back the city.

What an extraordinary man.

Don't joke, Margherita.

Do you know what happened seven years ago? Hmm?

I chose you.

And I rejected him. The savage, not the poet.

And I have never regretted it. Don't be jealous.

I'm not jealous. Idiot.

He treats me like a child, he steals the scene

just as I've launched my political party.

You are indeed jealous, but not of me.

Either Fiume!

Or death!

- Either River! - Or death!

- Either River! - Or death!

If he succeeds, it's a catastrophe for me.

I have 100 desperate people in a small room and he takes a city.

But there's the army there, right? How will he get past the barricade?

They'll stop him. They have to stop him.

They'll stop him and push him back.

- General. - Commander.

I have to order you to go back.

Love for the motherland prevents me from obeying you.

You serve your country by respecting the authority of the State.

So, go ahead, shoot... at these medals.

He entered Fiume, just like that, without firing a shot.

They say amidst a crowd.

And they all want to go.

There, my people lost, more his than mine.

Jealous? Of course I'm jealous.

It is also said that he has a...

It's impossible.

He put an eggplant there, for God's sake.

The place of the Fasci di Combattimento is there,

in Fiume, with D'Annunzio.

My place is anywhere, except there, in the shadow of the superman.

If he entered Fiume amidst a crowd, as they say,

it is certainly not men that he needs, or is it?

The government will react, and then...

And then if they crush him, I'll get crushed too, if I'm there.

An endorsement.

We release an endorsement in the newspaper,

in support of the glorious action of Fiume.

That's right, damn it. A nice endorsement.

Right.

The first rule of a good politician,

if you don't know how a situation will end, don't move.

Bide your time. Cesarino knows, he's intelligent.

Sooner or later I'll kill him.

I'm joking.

Good job, Cesarino.

And I didn't even recognize him, thinner, haggard, with a well-groomed moustache,

all dressed in black.

The Count? Dressed as an undertaker?

Not as an undertaker, as a fascist.

I had yet to hear this. The Count, fascist? Do you understand?

Your party has conquered a count.

Mussolini?

We have conquered many,

but the Fasci di Combattimento are not a party.

So, what are you?

We are an anti-party.

Yes, but in practice?

We practice anti-politics.

So, if I were to vote for you...

We don't care about the electoral medal.

We are against elections.

Are you against elections?

We are against elections, yes. We are against this State.

We are against the monarchy, against the Church, againt capital,

against the great powers.

Against everything.

Perhaps you don't want to understand me. Fascism "is everything".

And the opposite of everything. Eh, eh.

Director, there's a samurai for you.

For you, from the Commander.

A letter from D'Annunzio.

I apologize.

"My dear Mussolini, I am stunned by you."

"I have risked everything, I have given everything, I have had everything."

"I am the master of Fiume,

of soldiers who do not want to obey, if not to me."

"There is nothing to be done against me. No one can take me away from here."

"I have Fiume, I will keep Fiume as long as I live."

"Incontestably."

"And you tremble with fear,

capable of releasing only a flaccid endorsement."

Excuse me.

I have to go.

- Something serious? - An anti-letter?

The imperative of supporting Fiume and the Commander,

forces me to return to the newspaper. With your permission.

"You allow the pig's foot to be put on your neck,

by the most abject swindler that was ever illustrated by the history

of the universal scoundrel: Cagoia."

"He is referring to Nitti. Head of the government.

An old tool, a relic of the last century."

Cagoia.

"Any other country would have overthrown that man."

"And you stand there chattering,

settling old scores with the socialists,

while we fight, every single moment, against this vile government."

"Where are the fascists, the Arditi, the volunteers, the futurists?"

"Wake up! And shame on you, too."

"At least pierce the belly that oppresses you and deflate it."

"Otherwise, I will come, when I have consolidated my power."

"But I will not look you in the face anymore."

"But I will not look you in the face anymore."

"Come on, get discouraged, you lazy people of the eternal siesta."

"Come on, get discouraged, you lazy people."

What is your plan?

The fascists are all with him, whoever is not in Fiume would like to be there.

What happened when the great Poet, ace of the skies,

war hero, took Fiume?

Did Italy rise up? Did the government fall?

Nothing, Cesarino, nothing happened.

He just made us sell more copies.

We have never seen a revolution start from a small village

2,000 kilometers from the capital of the country.

It's as if Lenin had started from Siberia to take Moscow.

It's true, but...

...now just one word from the Poet,

ace of the skies and war hero

-is enough and our people would disown us. -and all my people would disown me.

Eh!

-Publish the letter, tomorrow. -With all the insults?

Duly cleaned up.

Title...

..."D'Annunzio asks Mussolini for help".

"And Mussolini goes to Fiume, in person".

Election campaign, in a month we vote.

Benito, we are against elections.

We were. We were. Do you see that you are always behind?

Only mules and bumpers do not change their minds!

We remove ourselves from D'Annunzio's shadow, we shuffle the deck,

we change the playing field.

And so you go to Fiume...

Call the fasces to a congress and we will announce it, Cesarino.

With the blessing of the Poet, those who love him... will vote for me.

Ah-ah, the flight!

Only an idiot can deny a soul of divine nature to flight.

No longer the fratricidal dominion of man over man,

but the dominion of man over nature, over the universe!

The pilot is a superior creature, a discoverer of worlds.

So? How are we doing?

All good!

Good! Good.

Commander, finally...

Mussolini...

..finally.

I flew, Commander, to arrive as soon as possible.

As soon as your messenger delivered the letter to me.

Comrade Samurai, who is a brave fighter and a man of culture,

and a poet himself, has been back here for days now.

As soon as I could, Commander,

"as soon as" I could.

But what I see... repays me for the impatience I suffered.

As a patriot, fighter, fascist, there is only one word...

..thank you.

If only half of Italy resembled the people of Fiume,

we would dominate the world.

I am determined to do anything.

But we must come to an understanding, we must clarify the political objectives.

Mhm, "political objectives".

With the ships deployed by Cagoia Nitti,

pointing their cannons at us?

Fiume is not, if not... a solitary peak of heroism,

where it will be sweet to die,

receiving a last sip of its water.

If the city is not returned to the homeland,

in ten days, I will throw the die again.

If the martyr city is martyred again,

I will avenge it with an enormous reprisal.

Commander,

we can stop Cagoia's hand on November 16th.

With elections.

Elections...

That day there will be a great plebiscite for Fiume.

Elections?

While this adorable people is impoverished and oppressed,

you are only capable of resigning yourselves?

"Resign yourselves"? On the contrary, Commander.

I say, let's take the fight, the energy of Fiume, to the parliament.

The legionaries here, the fascists in Rome. Like a pair of pincers!

In this regard...

In this regard, to encourage the voters,

it would be necessary for you to send me back with a message.

You know, the fight is mainly waged in your name.

You will be the President of our rallies.

You have my absolute devotion.

Vanity is his Achilles heel.

No.

No?

No.

You will not be able to push the true Italians

to put a vile cross on the ballot.

The Arditi dare, they do not plot.

The Arditi fight, they fight, they face the enemy hand-to-hand,

knife between their teeth.

For the fatherland, the glory, the honor, until death.

To whom death?

To whom death?

To whom death?! - Commander, you're taking me...

To us.

- Whose death? - To us.

- Whose death? - To us.

- Whose death?! - To us!

- Go back up! - What?

Go back up! The police is here!

- We can't! - The police is here, Lombardi!

We can't! We're running out of fuel!

Run, run, faster, faster!

Land! Down! Down! Down!

Holy shit, Lombardi! Holy shit!

They're arresting us!

This is an abuse of power, plain and simple! I demand immediately...

General.

General, I'm expected in Florence,

at the first national convention of the Fasci di Combattimento.

At the time.

Mussolini, you know perfectly well that the occupation of Fiume is illegal.

So, what did he go there to do?

Well, easy to say, General.

So?

I went to appeal to D'Annunzio's good sense,

to find a compromise.

To try to fix this situation, General.

Rally of Fasci di Combattimento Florence, October 10th 1919

He never made it to the hotel,

he didn't even take the 07:39 direct train.

- Let's start. - Without him?

Of course, what else should do we? Are we going to send these people home?

Come on, what are you waiting for?

What am I going to saying? I don't know how to make speeches.

How should I know, improvise.

But you're the one who's good with words.

What does it have to do with me...

Huh?

Dumini, they know you, you speak the same language.

They respect you.

Your warrior courage is worth much more than my words. Go, Dumini.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you to the heroes who intervened.

Thank you to men like Carlo Delcroix.

- Bravo Delcroix! Bravo! Fascist brothers!

The mutilated, with their stumps,

will know how to put all the cowards to the death sentence!

Bravo! Death to the cowards!

We...

We who have...

We...

We who have pushed... Holy shit!

We f-who... who have kicked the country into war!

We...

- We who blood... Fascist comrades!

For Benito Mussolini, Hey! Hey!

Alalà!

Hey! Hey! Alalà!

Hey! Hey! Alalà!

Hey! Hey! Alalà!

Hey! Hey! Alalà!

Hey! Hey! Alalà! Hey! Hey! Alalà!

Hey! Hey! Alalà! Hey! Hey! Alalà!

Sorry for the delay, I just landed.

I'm just arriving...

..from Fiume!

Long live D'Annunzio!

Long live D'Annunzio!

Long live D'Annunzio!

Long live D'Annunzio!

At midday yesterday,

we left by plane, I...

..and the brave Lieutenant Carlo Lombardi,

a heroic aviator who has 12 downed aircrafts

and has three medals for valor to his credit!

Long live Lombardi!

- Long live Lombardi! - Bravo!

Bravo!

At 4,000 meters above sea level,

a terrible storm hit us full-on.

The bora threatened to overwhelm us!

Down with the bora!

Come on, Cesare...

Calm down, Cesarino, calm down.

Having broken through a thick curtain of clouds,

we reached Aiello.

The roar of the engine attracted the

attention of all the people,

while the airplane landed on the airfield.

Many shouted: "Stop! Stop!"

I descended,

and I personally confronted the leaders of our armed forces!

And do you know what I told them?

- No. - What?

Do you know what I told him?

What?

That we will fight alongside Fiume until death!

Yes!

History is made starting from the last, do you know that?

Their anger is stoked,

bombs and revolvers are put in their hands,

and if necessary... electoral pencils.

We will fight in Fiume...

..and in parliament.

- No, not in parliament! - Not in parliament!

Calm down.

Calm down. Calm down!

No! Parliament disgusts us!

In parliament we will launch ourselves into the electoral competition

that will have its epilogue on November 16th.

- No! We will not vote! - We will not vote!

We will go to Rome...

We will go to Rome as we went to war!

And the war will not end, until we have

swept away all the debris of the past,

all the mummies that wither in parliament,

and opened up to Italy the paths of the future.

Exactly!

No! We want to fight!

We are not monarchists, republicans,

socialists, democrats, conservatives, reactionaries, no!

- Right? - No! No!

We are a synthesis of all affirmations

and all denials.

Yes!

We fascists, we have no

preconceived ideas!

Our only doctrine... is the fact!

Yes!

Amerigo.

- Where are you going? I was there first! - Fuck you!

Get out.

We will go to the vote alone, like in war!

To whom the glory?

To whom?

To us!

To us!

To whom the glory?

To us!

- To whom the glory? - To us!

- Long live Mussolini! - Long live Mussolini!

Long live Mussolini!

Benito, calm down.

Everyone go home, come on!

(SOCIALIST SING "L'INTERNAZIONALE", A SOCIALIST SONG)

- There he is! Get him! - The traitor!

Over there!

Mussolini!

- Mussolini! - Get him!

- We'll find you! - Mussolini!

There he is, he's there!

Mussolini, traitor!

Mussolini, traitor!

Come in, come in, come on.

Hey, Mussolini, they told me you were a dead man!

Mussolini!

We'll find you!

We got 4,796 votes.

No fascist candidate elected, none, not even me.

We got 4,796 votes, the socialists got one million three hundred thousand.

A triumph!

And I'm here, suffocating between these four walls.

Alone, with my family.

Here.

- They're giving me a funeral, Rachele. - Shh! - The funeral!

- Don't say that. - I'm dead, I'm a corpse!

You're scaring the kids, enough.

- Dad's joking. - Dad's joking.

Mussolini!

Mussolini!

- Mussolini, open the door! - Enough, silence!

Open the door, Mussolini!

Keep quiet, eh.

Here, take them.

Mussolini!

D'Annunzio wouldn't surrender. Supermen die fighting.

Take them.

Go.

Whose death?

To us.

- Who goes there? - Police. Mussolini, open the door!

What do you want?

Organization of armed gangs?

What is this, a joke?

Hide them. Come on.

We didn't do anything, neither me nor my family. It's a ridiculous accusation.

You will tell the magistrate. Open the door, you are under arrest!

I'll be back in an hour.

Long live fascism! Long live Mussolini!

A massacre.

My name is Mussolini Benito Amilcare Andrea,

by Mussolini Alessandro and Maltoni Rosa.

I am 35 years old.

I am like the beasts, I feel the times coming...

..and my time is already over.