Original subtitles

This film was restored in 4K by the Cineteca di Bologna Foundation

in partnership with Surf Film, Minerva Pictures, Rarovideo

and Kavac Film, under Marco Bellocchio's supervision.

Video and sound digitised by Augustus Color

and restored in 2024 by L'Immagine Ritrovata.

Italians, if you would still be called "men"

come together now, regardless of factions and parties!

Regardless of the divisions sowed by occult interests!

Move past the outdated, anachronistic

and overplayed paradigm of fascism and anti-fascism!

Unite now to say "yes" to the freedom of order!

Our present demonstration aims to show

that it's possible to defeat communism!

It's possible to defeat the enemies of Italy!

And so we will, together. Long live Italy!

Kill those bastards! - Kill them all!

Communism shall not pass! Communism shall not pass!

Communism shall not pass! Communism shall not pass!

FRANCO COMMITTERI PRESENTS

Fascist losers, back to your sewers! Fascist losers, back to your sewers!

SLAP THE MONSTER ON PAGE ONE

FREELY ADAPTED FROM A SCRIPT BY SERGIO DONATI

SCREENPLAY ADAPTED BY GOFFREDO FOFI

COSTUMES BY FRANCO CARRETTI

SET DESIGN BY DANTE FERRETTI

MUSICAL SOUNDTRACK BY NICOLA PIOVANI

CONDUCTED BY GIANFRANCO PLENIZIO

EDITED BY RUGGERO MASTROIANNI

CINEMATOGRAPHY BY ERICO MENCZER & LUIGI KUVEILLER

EXECUTIVE PRODUCER CLAUDIO MANCINI

PRODUCED BY UGO TUCCI

Fascists, exploiters, you will not see the dawn!

The new partisan movement is starting to catch on!

Fascists, exploiters, you will not see the dawn!

DIRECTED BY MARCO BELLOCCHIO

VOTE FOR NENCIONI

VOTE FOR THE SOCIALIST PARTY

VOTE FOR THE LIBERALS

VOTE FOR SPADOLINI

VOTE FOR THE COMMUNISTS

VOTE FOR THE ITALIAN SOCIAL MOVEMENT

CHRISTIAN DEMOCRACY

DEMOCRATIC SOCIALISM

VOTE FOR THE ITALIAN SOCIALIST PARTY

Comrade Feltrinelli, you will be avenged!

Comrade Feltrinelli, you will be avenged!

Comrade Feltrinelli, you will be avenged!

Fly the red flag, fly the red flag

March onward, people, to revolution

Fly the red flag to victory

Fly the red flag to victory

Fly the red flag to victory

Fly the red flag to victory

Long live communists, long live the free!

Long live Marx! Long live Lenin! Long live Mao Zedong!

Burn down the capitalists' press!

Where's the police?!

Forget it, get away!

Burn down the capitalists' press!

Burn down the capitalists' press!

Fight hard, fight without fear!

Fight hard, fight without fear!

Fight hard, fight without fear!

They're trying to Kill us!

You damn hobos! - What are you doing?

Move away. Wait, wait! You, photographer!

Those bloody criminals!

Take a picture, quick.

Did you take it? Now you can extinguish it.

Where were you?!

We do our duty! You have to do yours!

Calm down! Calm down!

If the police isn't enough, bring in the army!

Calm down! Those responsible will pay!

You must understand our indignation and dismay, Mr DA.

Everything has its limit.

A day like this, Milan in turmoil, extremist gangs in the streets!

And you leave me without protection?

Il Giornale has always defended you, even when you didn't deserve it.

I'm mortified, Professor. It was completely unexpected.

Alas, we can't be everywhere at once.

Look at that! What a mess!

Look! That's where rocks crashed through our window.

They threw all kinds of stuff! Bottles, rocks...

This was a Molotov cocktail. Those criminals!

Have you seen everything? - I have.

Did you inform Mr Montelli?

Sadly, I haven't been able to get hold of him.

Please try again, Bizanti. - I'll take care of it.

Beg your pardon, but we're late for the first edition.

You, come with me.

Another picture, please! Thank you.

Just one more.

This is all we could photograph. - Very well.

NEW EVIDENCE OF RIGHT-WING WEAPONS TRAFFICKING

See you soon, my good man. - Of course.

I hope you'll return the favour. - Naturally.

Goodbye, Commissioner.

Hello, this is Bizanti. - It's Mr Bizanti.

Hello.

I assume you've heard. Guerrilla, like in '68.

Always on the front lines!

Damage was minimal. Some broken windows, a lot of panic.

The police arrived when everything was over.

All the better.

Well, then.

The whole front page, and as many as you can spare inside.

Lots of pictures, and an alarmed editorial.

I think this could favour our other interests.

The Left-wing press' electoral speculation

is unprecedented in its shamelessness.

They're way over the line. It must end.

All our friends are saying they've had enough.

That is precisely what I meant.

This assault was well-timed. It will overshadow everything else.

For once, we get to play the victims in the public eye.

"Even Mussolini's and Farinacci's death squads

"stayed their hands in the face of such...

"extreme acts of aggression against

"those most courageous representatives and defenders...

"of one of the most supreme values..."

No.

Strike out "most," Miss.

"...of one of the supreme values of Western civilisation," colon:

"The freedom of the press." Full stop, new line.

RED GUERRILLA AT THE EVE OF THE ELECTION

DRAMATIC CLASHES IN MILAN YESTERDAY

BETWEEN RIOTER GROUPS AND THE POLICE

BURNED CARS, HUNDREDS WOUNDED, PASSERBY KILLED BY RIOTERS

MOLOTOV COCKTAILS AGAINST IL GIORNALE'S HEADQUARTERS

Il Giornale. - Go ahead.

Reporting for duty, sir. - When will the...

Do you know who she is? - No, she had no ID on her.

Who found her? - Some kids coming out of school.

Was she raped, Doctor? - Yes, without a doubt.

Let's go full circle.

"Uncertain ideals, certain TNT."

"The strategy of violence," colon: "Blood again."

"The '70s nihilists."

"Anti-democratic assault troops."

"Molotov cocktails are just the beginning."

"The new demons."

"The Right wing runs a red light."

"The way of violence."

"The red and the black."

"Childishness and dynamite between red and black."

"The underclass and struggling billionaires: A violent union."

"Full circle: Fascists and far-left united by explosives."

Local news?

Only that girl they found dead in Naviglio Pavese.

Do we know who she is? - Not yet.

The police are reviewing missing persons' reports from the last days.

But she could be from outside Milan.

Was she raped? - Looks like it.

They haven't performed an autopsy yet.

Give this to Roveda. - Yes, I agree.

But check his article before printing. He's inexperienced.

Maybe add a short article about a sexual crime resurgence.

How many rows?

I'd say 30. - Understood.

Here are the photos.

Today's Giornale was a drag. Too many boring pieces.

What's that? Porn, like yesterday's?

Here.

Don't mess up like the other time.

You put a plane crash and an airline ad on the same page.

Yeah, this will do.

This is the one.

If nothing better pops up...

I'm hoping for a hijacking, that would move some copies.

Or a nice massacre.

Look for Roveda and send him to me right away, please.

The inauguration Suffered a brief delay...

Oh, there you are, Roveda! Sit over there.

...from the back entrance, as the front door was...

Do you know how many copies Il Giornale sells?

500,000.

Every reader that counts in this country.

Some also read other papers, with different points of view

but in the end, they put their trust in us.

To hear from our voice a level-headed final word.

And that voice, Roveda, must remain consistent.

From the first line of our editorial down to the last ad.

Yes, I agree.

Who is our reader?

A calm, honest, order-loving man...

who works, produces, and creates income.

But he's also a tired man, Roveda. He's fed up.

Instead of going to school, his children

wage war in the streets of Milan.

His employees are ever more demanding

his government is absent, his country is in chaos.

He opens Il Giornale to find a serene, balanced opinion.

And what does he find?

Your article, Roveda.

I copied, word for word, your drophead and title.

"Unemployed man commits desperate act.

"Father of five sets self on fire."

I'm no linguistics professor.

I won't lecture you on news-applied semantics.

But it seems clear to me that the word "desperate"

sounds like an accusation.

If you put it together with "unemployed"...

"Desperate." "Unemployed."

Then we're dealing with a genuine provocation.

I don't...

And after such provocation, you take our poor reader

and throw five orphans and a charred body in his face.

I mean, what are we trying to turn him into? A neurotic?

Was he the one who set that man on fire?

Shall we rewrite this title together?

We all make mistakes, don't we?

Write!

"Tragic suicide."

Two simple words. "Tragic suicide of..."

Where was he from, Calabria?

Yes. - "...of an immigrant."

"Immigrant." Another simple word.

It implies that he was an unemployed father of five

but adds one more layer. - Sure.

Just the gist of the story. A summary.

Our reader glances at the headline

and decides whether he wants to read further.

Without us trying to make him feel guilty.

Without feeling responsible for every death in this world.

At any rate, your article is excellent.

Maybe a couple of words too long, some adjectives to be polished.

That "fired," for instance.

"Left without a job?"

"Left without a job." Well done!

Keep at it, Roveda. You have what it takes.

Re-type it and take it directly to typesetting.

Just looking costs 50 grand. 100 to take your clothes off.

Here they are!

Professor Martini! - Please let us through!

One more picture, Professor!

Professor!

Professor, look this way!

It's my daughter.

RAPE AND MURDER VICTIM FINALLY HAS A NAME

THE GIRL WAS PROFESSOR ITALO MARTINI'S DAUGHTER

We're from Il Giornale. - Fifth floor.

My condolences, Madam.

My condolences, Professor. - Thank you.

Roveda, one of our collaborators. - Roveda.

Good morning. - Professor.

We're ashamed to intrude upon your grief this way.

Come, I'll show you her room. - Thank you.

Come.

Have you read about that American affair?

That maniac from Oklahoma, obsessed with little girls.

He raped over 400, and then asked to be castrated.

His type should be castrated at the first sign of abnormality.

Maybe that's the only solution.

This is it. - May I enter?

No, wait.

Could we take a picture with the child on the bed?

Go.

That's enough.

So, let's recap.

The autopsy said... What was the wording, Lauri?

"Death by suffocation caused by strangulation.

"Traumatic laceration of the hymen."

There we go. Let's insist on her virginity.

Back to the front page. It's only right.

Tell you what: Lauri, pair up with Roveda

for all contacts with the doctors, police, and judiciary.

Are they following a trail already?

Well, they're searching for a random maniac

while interviewing her teachers and friends.

Apparently, she was an angel.

But all sorts of people attend the Leopardi school.

Roveda, you could interview her friends and teachers together.

I want a living portrait of her character.

Her habits, childhood dreams, hobbies, what she read...

If Italian mothers want to cry, we'll make them.

Other suggestions? - Perhaps...

We could change the "Letters to the editor" section

to "Letters about Maria Grazia."

Yes, I like that idea.

I would go as far as to dedicate a whole page to it.

A whole page?

Yes, where's that... Here we are.

"I'm an eight-year-old girl.

"I've cried a lot for Maria Grazia, dear Giornale.

"Please publish me even if I don't write good.

"All the children and all the mothers

"want the culprit to be found, because he's a criminal

"and we should have the death sentence."

"Death," it says.

All caps.

"If you find the one who did it

"give him to us children and the mothers from school

"and we'll give him what he deserves."

Blissful innocence!

48 HOURS AFTER THE DRAMATIC DISCOVERY

MARIA GRAZIA MARTINI AUTOPSIED: HELPLESS VIRGINITY

DEATH TO MARIA GRAZIA'S KILLER

What kind of car was it? - A yellow Fiat 500.

I noticed it because, these past few days

it kept circling the school.

Did you see the plates?

No, I didn't see the number.

Anyway, the car was there that day as well.

When Maria Grazia left, someone called and gestured to her.

Did you see his face? - No, I only saw his hand from the car.

Any news? - Oh, hi.

They're questioning the janitor.

It seems he saw Maria Grazia leave in a yellow Fiat 500.

What about you? - No one wants to talk.

How can you be sure it was Maria Grazia?

Well, a lot of parents at this school

ask me to keep an eye on their kids when they leave.

See who they talk to, who picks them up.

So did Professor Martini.

Bye.

Beg your pardon... Pardon me.

Did you know Maria Grazia? - Yes, why?

I'm a reporter with II Giornale. Could you tell me about her?

How much can you pay?

I'm a journalist. I don't make money from this.

Then forget it. - Fascist!

"R.Z." is Rita Zigai.

She's a night school teacher here, but lives in Brera.

Oh, sorry.

Hangs out with hippies. She's half a revolutionary herself.

This letter is interesting. It's worth pursuing.

I don't know.

She's deluded. Just another '68 convert.

A basket case, in short.

But she was a police informant. Something about drugs.

What was her name again?

Rita Zigai. - Sorry, give me a minute.

Anyway, we must be careful. It might be trouble.

What about this Mario Boni?

May be someone she slept with, and then left her.

Maybe she wanted revenge.

I'll handle it myself.

Meanwhile, get me Zigai's address. - Very well.

Come, come. How did it go?

Pretty well, I'd say.

People are clamouring for the death penalty.

Not that I'm surprised.

With all the recent unrest, almost all the interviewed agreed.

That's enough interviews for now. You should edit them.

But let's tone it down on the death penalty.

It's a double-edged sword.

Today they ask for the death penalty.

Tomorrow they'll march to abolish it.

Italians are kind-hearted.

You do the editing. I have faith in you.

Calm down. - Don't get upset.

That's the one.

Yes, Maria Grazia got in this car.

What are you doing? - What's...?

Wait! - Calm down! Stop!

Swine! You bastard!

You swine!

You pig bastard!

You bastard!

Bizanti's waiting for you. - Thank you.

This is the one! This is it!

Good morning! - Good morning.

That's the car. It belonged to Mario Boni.

Who's that? - An anarchist.

Are we the first to know? - Sure, as we agreed.

Commissioner, don't spread the news yet.

I need 24 hours, in our shared interest.

I may have a good lead. - Alright.

But shouldn't we follow it together?

Her father will never forgive me!

Not this time. But if you don't feel like it

I could speak with the DA directly.

But you'd lose an opportunity.

Just give me 24 hours.

As you wish, sir. - The murderer must feel safe.

My regards, sir. - Goodbye.

IS HE FUNDING FASCIST GANGS?

SEARING ACCUSATIONS AGAINST FAMOUS MILAN INDUSTRIALIST

MONTELLI THE EXPLOITER IS A FASCIST FINANCER

THE FIGUREHEADS' DAYS ARE NUMBERED

Good evening. - Good evening.

They're out of line.

And they're singling me out, as if I were alone in this.

It's grown past rumours, at this point.

It's increasingly likely that I'll be incriminated.

Let's cut to the chase, Bizanti.

I'll move my pawns, but it might not be enough.

The election is near. Very near.

They've inflated this scandal far enough.

Any time now, it could blow up.

There are some facts that allow us an efficient counter-attack.

Feltrinelli couldn't have died at a better time.

The attack on Il Giornale was also useful.

But maybe we need something more emotional

and less explicitly election-based.

Surely you've followed the Martini case through our paper.

Here she is, the little girl.

All tears are for her.

Martini, her father, has gotten tons of publicity from II Giornale.

Especially our articles about his heart surgeries

for poor children, mainly immigrants...

Remember that?

An exemplary person.

You see, I meant to ask for your approval...

as to how this case should be handled.

Should we inform objectively

waiting for the police to identify a culprit...

or should we throw our hat in the ring...

and actively contribute?

If you think it's worth it, go ahead.

Of course, we should find the murderer

before the election, in time for...

That would also make our friends happy.

They don't want the tension to drop.

We could build up the case. Even if our murderer...

even if our "monster" isn't perfect...

But maybe he will be. Who can say?

Bitch.

"The power will no longer be in the bourgeois' hands."

As if she were anything different.

"Today is my birthday. 17 and I'm already old."

Bitch.

"Statistics: In her lifetime, a woman uses 100kg of lipstick.

"A man eats half of it".

What an intellectual!

"Man on the horizon!"

Give me a break. What a cocksucker!

She put out to any man she saw, and all at once.

I put out too, who doesn't?

But one man at a time! It's not worth the hassle.

Mario, is that you?

Pardon me, are you Ms Rita Zigai?

Drop the "Ms." Who are you? What do you want?

My name is Bizanti, I'm a journalist.

So? What newspaper? What's it got to do with me?

Il Giornale. You sent us a letter.

I wrote no letter.

Don't worry, I'm not a policeman. I'm just a working man.

My, what a pain. - Let me in for a second.

"Just a working man."

You lot are worse than the cops.

Hey! Don't snoop around like you own the place!

Sorry.

Don't you think your distrust is a bit excessive?

I'm only here to exchange ideas.

We think your contribution might be valuable.

That letter is important.

What letter? I said I didn't write anything!

I understand, you know.

Making a choice is hard.

Especially if personal relationships are involved.

Anyway, this matches what I thought of you as a woman.

What did you think?

I thought you'd be a woman with a strong personality.

Yes, fine. I wrote that letter.

I wrote it, but it was all bollocks.

I was wrong to write it, I've changed my mind.

And why should I talk about my personal affairs?

If you want me to leave, I will.

I really thought I could help you.

Maybe you could talk to somebody else about it.

Yes, yes, it's true.

You're right, I need to talk. But not here.

Fine... - My God, the coffee!

I do need to talk, I'm always alone.

I never talk, only monologue and mutter.

Have you noticed? No one talks since the atom bomb.

I'm here waiting for someone to come by

but no one does, if I'm being honest.

Still, your newspaper is shit, you know?

There's one thing I don't want to become.

A half-revolutionary half-wit, like some of my pathetic colleagues.

So, better to write consciously for a shitty paper

than to try and save your soul by biting the hand that feeds you.

Nowadays, we can't afford to be romantic.

Even when we're young.

I don't understand their idealism.

I'm not enchanted by their "freedom."

Maybe it's different as a teacher. Fewer compromises.

The chance to communicate directly with the youth...

and offer them our life experience.

You have a strange way of drawing me in.

I feel good talking to you.

Maybe because we're alike.

We have the same problems, at least.

Spare 100 liras? - Should I give it to him?

Not if you want him to scram. - What do you need it for?

I need it to eat.

First of all, it's not dinnertime. Second, it's not enough.

Then give me 1,000.

You'll have to earn it, same as I do.

Hey! - Hi.

Can your friend donate some cash to the alternative press?

Of course. Long live the alternative press!

Where's Mario? Still fighting for the workers?

Tell him that if he wants an addiction

pot is better than class warfare.

What do I care about Mario? I never see him.

Bye! - Bye.

They should be re-educated in forced labour camps.

Or gas chambers! - "Fiat is shit, Fiat is shit..."

Today's youth.

One night you see a boy... Who knows where he's from.

Just one of many, not even handsome.

With eyes that ask for something, while pretending to give.

And you're so desperate.

So what about the age difference?

It wasn't an issue to him.

He could eat, drink, and sleep for free.

And he could have me for free. He had no problems.

But I did.

I loved him. I still do.

I don't even know anymore.

Then, one day...

he switched to girls with miniskirts.

Like that Maria Grazia.

And then there are the comrades...

The guys saluting with their fist, like this.

Thick as thieves, as whores.

So what about me?

What should I do?

I wait.

In the morning, in the evening. Will he come or what?

I pluck daisies.

The comrades...

They lay it on you thick, with their ageism.

They say I'm decadent.

Because to them, love is decadent.

Please don't worry, I have no intention of assaulting you.

You're anything but a decadent woman.

We are positive people.

Therefore, we must react.

I do react.

I write letters, then I feel guilty and say I never did.

You know, you could write an amazing article.

No, I won't write anything.

I'm pissed because a woman like you is wasted like this.

Throw him out. What are you waiting for?

As soon as he finds another skirt, he'll leave you.

Miss Maria Grazia was a slut.

A slut, like all the rest.

She liked it. Oh, did she like it.

The day she was murdered, they were together.

He came to my place for dinner.

He was upset. They had a huge fight.

And I felt good, because in that moment...

he was mine, you know? He was mine.

I put him to bed and cuddled him.

Before I went to school, I gave him a sleeping pill.

I waited until he fell asleep.

Because he needs me, but he won't admit it.

The next day, his comrades came.

"Tell everyone that yesterday

"Mario was at a meeting with us at Francesco's."

He sends people to give me orders.

What then? Where is he? With whom?

Licking his wounds, or getting them licked.

And what the hell am I supposed to do? Wait?

What if I started hating him?

It would be fair, wouldn't it?

What is he doing tonight?

Still sleeping at your place?

Yes.

Yes, he is.

His comrades will pick him up tomorrow at dawn.

They're going around putting up posters.

Damn, is it cold!

You didn't sleep much, did you?

Tell Mario to hurry, it's bloody freezing out here.

Sure, my fucking comrades! I'll tell Mario!

Hi.

Mario!

Don't go today. Not today. Stay with me.

Stay with me.

Christ, you never change! Always breaking my balls!

Let's go.

VOTE FOR THE COMMUNIST PARTY

It's good, glue it on.

THE SLAVERS ARE AFRAID

Hurry up!

Give me the other one.

Put some more glue up here. - Is this OK?

Now do the other side.

Come, let's put some over there.

Hurry, hurry!

Should we go now? - Mario! Come here, we're done!

Hurry up!

It's the cops! Go, go!

Get that one!

Stop! - Let the others go!

Stop right there, you criminal!

Get in the car! - God damn you!

Get in, I said!

Fascist pigs!

Mannati!

Did they catch him?

Yes, his name is Mario Boni.

Front page, then? - Yes, ditch the side article.

Bonvini!

Three columns on the front page, it's urgent.

Mannati!

Thank you.

Pupo, here's the article.

Enrico, this must go to print immediately.

And here's the monster's accomplice.

Colombo, careful with the heading. - Yes, I know.

The plate fits. Put the heading there. - Yes.

TWIST IN THE MARTINI CASE

IS MARIA GRAZIA'S KILLER A LEFT-WING EXTREMIST?

Excellent! Nice layout.

Talk!

So, you know nothing about these school books?

I already told you, no!

The janitor told us Maria Grazia left in a yellow Fiat 500

and you and your pals happened to have the same car!

So it's you who picked her up, damn you!

I'll say it again. I knew Maria Grazia

but that afternoon, I was at a meeting

at Francesco Gatti's place, 13 Foppa street.

I can't have seen her! I was there from 4 to 8pm.

That's all. I want to speak to my lawyer!

What lawyer?! - One from the committee.

Name, surname, address! What lawyer?

One from the committee! I have rights!

You freeloaded off an old lady, huh?

You filth!

I never freeloaded in my life, you hear me?

An old lady? Here's the idealist youth! You make me sick!

Who knows what your wife gets up to, Commissioner!

Smash his face in! Say it again! Say it again if you dare!

Coward! Say it again!

That hurts, damn you!

This friendship, or acquaintance... explain it to us.

Maria Grazia was a nice girl, why would she be with you?

I met her at an assembly, after a protest.

What does that mean?!

I told you. We were at Francesco's.

What lies are you selling me?

It's not a lie, I'm just saying...

Hands down!

I'm just telling you the truth! I was with her a couple of times.

And what did you do?

That's my damn business! - Arsehole!

If you don't know, killing a girl is one thing

but killing and raping is another.

And raping a virgin is another still!

Her autopsy clearly mentioned her virginity!

Understood, you piece of shit?

What do you mean, virginity? What do you mean?!

Are you saying you fucked her?!

Take him away!

You filth! She was a saint! A saint!

Where's Bizanti?

What are you doing, barging in like this?

He's in a meeting. - I don't care!

When he wanted to meet me, he did. And how, my dear!

I'll call the police!

Oh, you'll call the cops? You can stick them up your arse!

Go ahead, call them! You look like the arse-sticking type!

Call Bizanti! - Lady, where do you think you are?

So prim and proper!

You like your secretaries squeaky-clean, huh?

Call Mr Bizanti! Call him!

Let her through.

Just a second.

Take a seat.

"Take a seat?" Now you're all formal with me!

Of course I'll take a seat.

You clown!

"Just a working man," huh?

Listen, Madam.

I assume you came for a specific reason.

I'm not playing, and have no time to lose.

Well, find the time.

We sure found some together, didn't we?

And let me tell you, I despise you!

Taking advantage of a woman like me...

with shattered nerves, is an act of cowardice.

And everything I told you was a lie!

I'll deny everything, got it?

Let's not lose our grip on reality.

Such a silver tongue!

You are well known to the police.

I am a respected person. I could tell them many things.

I could say I saw Maria Grazia's books at your house.

I burned them! - I can testify that I saw them.

What's the use of denying, when Mario himself

confessed to knowing and seeing Maria Grazia?

When her friends and the janitor

say it was Mario's car she left in before she was murdered?

Plus...

you know better than I that Mario was capable of it.

Still, there's nothing you can say that I cannot refute.

Why would you wish to go to prison?

For a boy who hates, despises, and exploits you?

Here's an excerpt from Mario Boni's interrogation.

"I declare that, on April 23rd, 1972

"I went to Rita Zigai's house, as I've often done

"when I lacked a home and means of supporting myself.

"I thought she was a comrade.

"Or so she said, at least.

"Zigai is just a confused menopausal woman.

"She stuck to me like a fly...

"...because she was alone.

"She's practically a hobo.

"I only stayed with her out of pity."

Enough...

Being an adult is hard.

Enough. That's enough.

The diary... - What diary?

Maria Grazia Martini's diary...

I didn't burn it.

Good.

Someone should go to this press conference.

THE FAR-RIGHT TOOL IL GIORNALE...

It's dangerous.

...IS RESPONSIBLE FOR MARIO BONI'S ARREST.

THEY ARE FRAMING HIM FOR POLITICAL GAIN.

They'll beat us up.

Let's send Roveda.

Let him prove himself!

Their aim is clear: Discredit the far-Left.

His arrest is the latest in a string of provocations

that began with the Piazza Fontana bombing

and Valpreda, who is still awaiting trial.

Meanwhile, the real culprits will probably end up in Parliament.

What about this Zigai? What proof do you have?

We have proof that she acted as a police informant.

But she's easily blackmailed. She has zero credibility.

Her relationship with Boni was entirely occasional.

Not that we care about his private life.

We believe he's innocent and will defend him to the end.

It seems you're accusing this Prof Zigai with no proof.

No, we're not! - On the basis of pure hearsay.

That's not true at all! - She's only doing her duty.

We can provide the press with a litany of testimonies

on Ms Zigai's unreliability.

Who do you work for? - Il Giornale.

And you have the nerve to come here?!

This is a democracy!

Go away!

Well done.

It's a provocation!

Let's keep going! Forget about it.

Can't you see it's a provocation?

Enough is enough!

I told you, just get on with it!

Don't you get it? You're playing into their hands!

As I was saying, a litany of testimonies

on Zigai's unreliability...

Oh! Hello, Roveda. - Excuse me.

Well, Roveda? How did it go?

No incidents?

RED THUGS SAVAGELY ATTACK OUR REPORTER

What happened? Did they beat you?

Insult you, at least?

Nothing?

Nothing at all?

Well, no rush. Today's issue is full already.

30 lines will do.

What a pity.

Are we agreed? I'll stop by our headquarters.

We must strengthen our security. - See you at the Spanish Walls.

Bye. - Bye, comrades!

Lock up the slavers, free our comrades!

Lock up the slavers, free our comrades!

The state police are the new S.S.!

The state police are the new S.S.!

...you shall be freed!

The only justice is the proletariat's!

Jailed comrades, you shall be freed!

The only justice is the proletariat's!

Jailed comrades, you shall be freed!

The only justice is the proletariat's!

Jailed comrades, you shall be freed!

Who could it be?

Who is it?

This time I have a warrant! Out of the way!

What warrant? I want to see it!

Keep calm if you know what's best for you.

Rise and shine, comrade workers!

Get out and join the others!

Wake up and move!

Where's the rush? - Move, I said!

STATE-MANDATED SLAUGHTER

Stop that! - We want our lawyers!

I saw that! You did it on purpose!

Keep your hands off me!

Stop resisting.

We have the right to an attorney! Our attorney!

We have the right to an attorney!

Calm down, or else.

ARSENAL FOUND IN THE KILLER'S DEN

MARIO BONI'S FRIENDS INCRIMINATED

DEMOCRATIC PARTIES SURGE IN POLLS

Good morning, sir.

Let's proceed in order.

The witness Ms Rita Zigai, who is here with us

states that on the day of the murder

precisely on March 28th, 1972

from 5 to 8pm, contrary to what you claimed

there was no meeting in which Mario Boni took part.

The witness also states that Mario Boni arrived at her house at 7:45pm

claiming that he had spent the day with Maria Grazia Martini

and that they'd had a violent spat.

That's a lie! We had a meeting at Francesco's

from 5 to 8pm, and Mario was there!

It's true! - Tell them the truth!

We knew you were a snitch, but you're also a plant!

Sir, they're insulting an honest citizen.

Be careful or I'll hold you in contempt.

Please continue. - I'm neither a snitch nor a plant!

And as an honest citizen, I confirm what I already said.

Vitaliano Fabrini phoned me on March 28th, 1972 at 10:30am

and here's what he said, word for word:

"You must tell everyone that Mario was with us yesterday afternoon

from 5 to 8pm, in a meeting at Francesco's place."

Try and deny it! - Liar!

Deny it under oath!

All lies!

Was there a phone call or not? - There was no phone call!

We met at Francesco's place and Mario was there, from 5 to 8.

And what do you have to say about this?

It's Maria Grazia Martini's diary.

Boni himself gave it to Ms Zigai

the evening after the crime.

"March 28. I'll meet with Mario in the afternoon.

"I'm fed up with him. He's too demanding.

"lI must get rid of him. He's boring."

We don't know anything about that.

Zigai herself could've written it!

From start to finish!

Cowards... - How much did they pay you?

How much, huh? - You spy!

Snitch! You wrote it!

So I wrote that bitch's diary? What for?

You know why! To screw us and Mario!

It's clear as day!

Who even cares about Mario?!

I'm here for justice. Politics got nothing to do with it!

And as for your precious Mario

you lot are defending a girl's killer!

What the fuck are you saying? - There's proof!

He's not a murderer!

Sit down! We're not at the market!

Sit down! Sit down!

You people ruined him. Took him away from me.

Because you were jealous!

I was helping him...

but you turned him against me, because he loved me.

He loved me very much. You told him I was old.

You always hated me! Always! Always!

Can't you see she's crazy? We never hated you!

You're an idiot. No one hated you!

Who said a thing about you and Mario? It's your business!

You drove Mario away! You acted like a pain in the ass

trying to keep him home, isolating him!

Who cares if you're old and ugly?

It was his choice to make!

But you acted like a bourgeois, a piece of shit fascist!

You're trying to ruin us!

Shut up! I'm not crazy!

I'm not crazy! I'm not crazy!

You should be in an asylum!

Get them out of here! Out, out!

There, they're coming out!

Quick!

Wait a moment! Stay back! Don't make a fuss!

Calm down, please! Let us through!

Miss, tell us something!

What's your relationship with Boni? - Did he kill her?

Do you trust your memory? - Were you lovers?

Go away!

Miss, are you a communist or an anarchist?

Leave a statement, Miss!

As we can clearly glean from the tyre tracks

the car halted in this spot, pursuant to an abrupt braking action.

It is conceivable that a brief scuffle occurred inside the car.

The man was looking for penetrative carnal contact.

The victim managed to escape after the attacker made clear

through his lascivious caresses on her most private parts

that he was animated by nothing more than his base instincts.

There was a brief...

"Capture proof of guilt from the accused's expression."

So they said.

The prosecutor is classically educated.

It's grotesque.

Everything about the Martini case is.

There's not much left to uncover. Everything fits to a tee.

It was obvious from the start.

Disgusting pigs! You make me sick!

You are the monsters, not me!

You perverted shits! Sexual deviants! Freaks!

Typical. The last defence.

Accusing others of his own perversions.

Take him away! - You filthy pigs!

Seized by the monster, the victim surely tried to wriggle free.

Perhaps she managed to escape, if but for a moment

from her assaulter's lust.

What were you trying to tell me?

Don't play dumb, Roveda.

It's not the first time Lauri cooperates with the police

in finding the perfect culprit.

Are you not working in tandem?

This Mario... He's too convenient for your paper's owner.

It'll be raining votes.

Indirect propaganda is the best kind, don't you know?

At the cost of sounding like an idiot, I swear I know nothing.

You can't afford to be an idiot in this line of work.

While you write lifestyle pieces, Bizanti and Lauri fabricate culprits.

They're playing the hard game.

You have a workers' committee, the right of assembly.

What more do you want?

Send a written request to sales management.

Pardon me, Bizanti. I need to speak with you.

Is it urgent? - It's a delicate matter.

There's no other way, do as I said. Come.

What is it, Roveda?

It's about the Martini case.

I've learned something I ignored. - Namely?

You paired me up with Lauri for a reason

and following a specific plan.

Of course, to each his own task. Did he overstep?

Let me be very explicit. I'm absolutely convinced

that you were pulling Lauri's strings.

I beg you to speak more clearly. - I will.

I have two questions for you.

First, was Zigai found by Lauri

and then persuaded to accuse Mario Boni?

Did Il Giornale make up a culprit

based on the half-testimony of a poor woman

driven mad by jealousy?

You entrusted me with a case

and then took it away behind my back.

Listen... - Second question.

This case was blown out of proportion

for plain electoral purposes.

Do you believe an election is enough to justify your dishonesty?

Are you criticising our political stance

or giving me a lecture on professional ethics?

You used me like a puppet!

You're only a puppet if you want to be, Roveda.

Listen...

You have a future here.

You're a good journalist, not a career-chaser.

You're much more honest than Lauri

but he has fewer hang-ups, and knows a lot of people.

He has an excellent network of informants.

Thanks to him, we managed to dodge a few bullets

and we often beat other papers to the punch.

I know that. I wasn't born yesterday.

But this time, it wasn't just about an informant network, as you say.

It was about giving the police, the judiciary

and public opinion a gift-wrapped culprit.

The Martini case is but a symptom of the situation we're in.

Have you ever wondered why we receive so many letters?

It's because common citizens see this murder

as a symbol of our country's collapse.

People are scared.

But reality should be explained, reported on objectively.

Instead, you distort it!

You don't mind walking over people's corpses

as you turn whatever you wish into a symbol, as you said.

Fine. Here at Il Giornale, we're provocateurs.

We do not report the facts objectively.

What's objectivity, Roveda?

Have you asked yourself who Mario Boni is?

A misfit that rejects the rules of civil society.

A junkie that bombed our paper.

He attacks workers who won't go on strike.

He kidnaps executives, sets fire to their cars.

He hates you too, Roveda.

With your nice sentiments and harmless idealism.

You think a journalist iS an unbiased observer.

Let me tell you, I pity unbiased observers.

We must be protagonists, not observers.

We are at war!

We too are involved in the class struggle.

It wasn't invented by Marx and Lenin!

...the majority of citizens respect the most basic tenets of society.

But there's also a minority of, let's say... turbulent people.

And in that minority, I include perverts

maniacs, dangerous mental cases...

and also the nihilists that wish to destroy everything

without ever proposing a viable alternative.

"Who is the majority?" you'll ask.

And my answer is: "Workers. Taxpayers."

There's Daddy. See?

Come on, it's him. Can't you see? Look.

Look at Daddy on TV. Come on, don't sleep and watch.

But it's boring! Let's change the channel!

We can't, you know he'd feel offended.

Come on, watch. Listen to Daddy.

I don't understand a thing!

There's Daddy! Come on, look at him!

It's him, look.

...our children go to school every day, exposed and defenceless.

It's an urgent issue.

You are very telegenic, you know?

You look very good. I'm proud.

We need police intervention, and harsher sentences.

Institutions should act with extreme rigour.

If you'll allow, I'd like to voice a simpler point of view.

Some may mock me for it

but I think it's vital to underscore this:

The root of evil goes way farther back.

Man... Man is imperfect!

Sure, we are all imperfect...

You're the best talker there.

But we're dealing with true criminals here.

Whether they're planting bombs or raping little girls.

Right, it's no coincidence that Mario Boni

was a revolutionary by day and a murdering pig at night.

You know, you're worse than the idiots

who read Il Giornale as if it were the Gospel.

...the poor young man they've pinned this on...

How is it that despite everything, all your friendships

all your money, the fact that you're my wife...

you're stuck in the mindset of a civil servant's wife?

...the victims of warped ideals...

And not only are you a moron...

you're also making a moron of my son.

...think they can solve problems with dynamite.

Don't you get that the wife of the editor-in-chief

of one of the most important Italian newspapers

should be a tad more mentally evolved than its average reader?

...Mario Boni's character.

But let's look at the data...

When will you begin to understand the world?

Understand the difference between what one thinks and says?

Violent and sexual crimes were almost double the...

You are a moron, moron, moron!

I feel alone in this house!

I find better conversation with the walls than with you!

If you were Maria Grazia's father...

would that still be your answer?

Fine, it's true.

I wasn't at Vitaliano Fabrini's place on March 28th.

I spent the whole afternoon with Maria Grazia.

I didn't tell you because I was afraid.

And also because I don't trust your kind.

I waited for her with my 500 outside the school, as usual.

Her mother often picked her up

so she signalled me whether she could come.

Naturally, we had to do everything in secret.

If they knew we were going out, her parents would call the police on me.

No to fascism! No to communism!

A vote for Christian Democracy is worth double.

In the face of disorder and violence

the crossed shield is your defence.

Grazia!

Grazia!

Come on, Mario. Don't start.

Why?

Because! We were supposed to talk, don't you recall?

This place reeks!

Where have you taken me?

Excuse me if it's not the beach. It's your beautiful Milan.

Why did you move here, then?

"The moral capital"...

Quit it!

So... - So nothing. It's over.

You've had enough of the working-class boy?

Have you satisfied your curiosity?

You use me and leave me, is that it?

Mario, what's all this nonsense?

I was with you because you were nice and I liked you.

But I no longer do. It's not the end of the world.

They told me I shouldn't date a stupid girl like you.

Well, let's drop it. Take me home.

Listen, honey, start walking. I'm done driving you around!

Phone home and ask them to send you a chauffeur!

Go phone your parents!

Let me say, I consider the charges against your client

not weakened, but rather validated

and confirmed by his statement.

Sign here.

CONCLUSIVE PROOF FROM MARIA GRAZIA'S DIARY

BONI'S ALIBI CRUMBLES

YOUNG EXTREMIST KEEPS DENYING CHARGES

"...drank deep from the..."

I have some crucial news for you. - Meaning?

Don't worry, I'm giving it to you for free.

Mario Boni didn't kill anyone. - What?

Your paper wrote a lot of nonsense.

Could you be clearer?

Maria Grazia wasn't a virgin. Mind you, she was a lovely girl.

But she had sex with people, that's all.

The doctors' statements and autopsy reports say the opposite.

They said she was a virgin.

What virgin? It's all stories!

What planet are you living on?

Martini is a doctor and tenured college professor.

Either the autopsy doctors did him a favour

or he paid them off.

Calvi here knows. She did it with him.

Then she left him for Boni.

And this relationship with Mario Boni?

They met at a worker-student assembly.

Back then, all girls wanted a working-class boyfriend.

She was very pretty. Everyone liked her.

Of all the arseholes in this world, it had to happen to her.

Even the janitor fell in love with her.

The one who said he saw her in the yellow 5007?

Yes. He courted her, in his own way.

A shy, frustrated wanker. Principal's snitch.

May I enter?

Excuse me?

Who is it?

Pardon me, I'm a reporter.

Look, I won't talk to any more reporters.

I'm with Il Giornale. - Please leave.

Calm down.

I'm not here to speculate on Maria Grazia Martini's death.

I told you everything. There's nothing else.

I just need to know one thing.

Did Maria Grazia have relations with some of her schoolmates?

No.

No, Maria Grazia...

She wasn't capable of those things.

She was still a child.

She never got intimate with anyone.

I watched her.

All her schoolmates flocked around her

because she was the prettiest and the kindest.

Mario Boni claims he met her at an assembly.

That's impossible, she knew nothing of politics.

And she didn't care to know.

She didn't take part in strikes, squatting, or assemblies...

Not like her classmates, those criminals!

They've taken over the school! All junkies.

Daddy's boys with nothing to fear.

I'd throw them all in jail.

So you're convinced the murderer was Boni.

Of course it's him.

I can't understand how he's still alive.

Plus, I trust Il Giornale. I've been reading it for years.

I'm a faithful reader.

I read nothing else.

I'm sure you'll know that Mario Boni confessed

he had a relationship with Maria Grazia.

But... - An intimate relationship.

But... Il Giornale didn't mention that.

Y-you didn't say that!

That rotten bastard!

I guess he may have hit on her...

But she... she wasn't the type.

She was... She was innocent. She was...

She was pure.

She was a saint, an angel! She...

She was the Virgin Mary!

She was the Virgin! The Holy Virgin!

A saint! That's what she was to me!

The Virgin Mary! She was a saint to me!

The Virgin Mary! A saint!

The boys from school were right, then.

You were in love with Maria Grazia.

They hate me because she loved me instead of them!

They'd turn her into a whore!

This is what happens when you no longer teach Latin!

Latin is important!

I only went to middle school, but I can recite Mass!

Ego introibo ad altare Dei!

Et cum spiritu tuo! Ora pro nobis!

And so forth!

I expect nothing less from you.

What you wrote are just personal assumptions

which the police... - The police?

...have already considered and discarded.

The police followed the trail you and Lauri gave them.

I demand that Il Giornale considers my hypothesis...

You demand?

...and stops framing Boni and his group!

Calm down and listen, Roveda.

Why don't you worry about things that concern you?

Right, "to each his own task!" "It's just a matter of guts!"

You're turning this profession into something vile!

What profession is noble? - I despise you!

You've said too much. You're a complete moron!

You don't scare mel!

Go to the administrator and get your dismissal papers.

I will report you! - Yes, go ahead and do that.

I can't stand him anymore. What an idiot!

We'll all end up in his first book.

Who are you? How dare you come in here?

W-what do you want?

Who gives you the right?

I asked who you are. What...? - Tell me everything.

Everything? I've got nothing to hide!

You filthy swine! - I know nothing! I did nothing!

You pig! - I know nothing!

You swine! - I did nothing!

I know nothing!

Say "I did it!" Say it!

Say it! Say it! - Yes, I killed her!

Say it! - Yes, I did it. It was me!

I killed her! I killed her!

That filthy whore!

She w-went with everyone except me. She mocked me!

I followed her with my car. Boni left her out of town.

Help!

Stay still!

Stay still!

Yes, I killed her!

Listen to me carefully.

We're the only ones that know about this.

If you talk to someone, I will hurt you.

But if you don't say a word... I'll help you.

Is that clear? - Yes, yes!

Is it? - Yes!

Do you understand? - I do!

Are we agreed? - Yes! Yes! Yes!

Christian Democracy is proving to be a great party.

It keeps gaining back the ground it lost.

"Anti-fascist and anti-communist," this will be our winning card.

There's a risk of that formula becoming stale.

No one still believes that if the communists win

Cossack horses will drink from St. Peter's fountains.

That total lack of imagination scares me.

In his diaries, Goebbels wrote

that the masses are much more primitive than we imagine.

Therefore, propaganda should essentially be simple

and based on a pattern of repetition.

A very modern method

used by the foremost American advertising agencies.

"Unique Selling Proposition.”

Sell them one, irreplaceable benefit.

You said you had some news. What is it?

Yes...

Maria Grazia Martini's real murderer turned up.

A maniac... a sick man.

He won't talk, not a peep.

It's up to us to decide how to use him.

Let's wait until the election's over.

We'll decide depending on the outcome.

Should I inform the director? - No, he shouldn't know about it.

Everyone must do their job and take their share of responsibility.

And their share of the profits, of course.

"Directors" are not always the ones directing.

Everyone must know their place.

The police repress, the judiciary punishes

and the press makes people think the way we want them to.

After all, everyone is doing their duty.

Only the workers won't play along.

They don't work enough. They don't care.

Always asking for money.

We can't raise production. That's the real issue.

Compared to all that, what does it matter

whether some guy named Mario Boni is guilty or innocent?

...we humbly implore you: by the same Spirit

make holy these gifts we have brought to you

that they may become the Body and Blood

of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ

at whose command we celebrate these mysteries.

Remember our sister Maria Grazia

whom you have called to yourself from this mortal coil.

As you united her to yourself with baptism

through the death of Christ your Son

by the same token, let her take part in His resurrection

on the day He raises the dead out of the earth

and transforms our mortal bodies in His own glorious image.

Now pray, my brothers, for our sacrifice

to be welcomed by our Father God Almighty.

Mass is ended, go in peace.

SLAP THE MONSTER ON PAGE ONE

The events and characters in this film are fictitious.

Any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental.