Original subtitles

M: There always comes a time when a lost people

M: There always comes a time when a lost people

turns to simple ideas.

The cunning brutality of strongmen.

They find in us an outlet for their resentment.

An escape from their mortifying sense of impotence.

A hope of miraculously reversing

their unsatisfactory destiny.

MAN: Hail to the Duce!

CROWD: Duce! Duce! Duce!

M: You only need the right words.

Simple and direct words.

The right gaze and tone.

MUSSOLINI: Italy, under lictorian leadership,

will attain

wellbeing,

power, and glory!

M: So you love us. You worship us.

MUSSOLINI: It would never! Never, I say!

CROWD: Duce! Duce! Duce!

M: You loved me madly.

For 20 years, you worshiped and feared me as a deity.

And then you hated me, and hated me madly,

- because you still loved me. - (CROWD CLAMORING)

You ridiculed me. You desecrated my remains,

because you were scared of your mad love for me.

Even after I died.

But tell me. What was the point?

Look around.

We're still here.

MILAN MARCH 23, 1919

(GRUNTING SOFTLY)

My name is Mussolini Benito Amilcare Andrea.

son of Mussolini Alessandro and Maltoni Rosa.

I'm 35 and I run a newspaper that I founded.

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

Andrea, like Andrea Costa,

founder of Romagna's Revolutionary Socialist Party.

Amilcare, like Amilcare Cipriani,

patriot, adventurer, socialist and staunch anarchist.

Benito, like Benito Juarez,

another revolutionary,

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

So I owe my name to an indigenous man?

A man who was only four and a half.

A little man.

Nothing like me.

Apart from the revolutionary spirit.

- (PEOPLE SINGING INDISTINCTLY) - Today, March 23rd, 1919,

is a day that will go down in history.

I am like the beasts. I smell the weather before it changes.

And it's changing in my favor.

♪ Onwards, Ardito The black flames...

Here they are, my lost people.

♪ They're like a symbol...

They need strongmen and simple ideas.

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

♪ With hand grenades!

♪ Black flames, vanguards of death

- See you at dinner, Volpi - ♪ We bring the meaning

♪ Of the fight and fear

♪ We're pride mutated to cohort... ♪

You know what the Great War is, right?

1914-1918, Europe is in flames.

Four years of battles from Russia to Italy.

10 million dead, 21 million wounded,

and countless veterans, destitute.

Like them, who are here for me.

Albino Volpi. He has a hefty criminal record.

Volunteer. Caiman of the Piave.

Brave soldiers.

They were promised compensations, rewards,

the honor of victory.

Instead, they got nothing.

Not even a pension.

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

and who didn't fight it.

Amerigo Dumini. An American.

But he chose to fight for Italy.

Assault battalion and the death company.

♪ We're pride...♪

In this rotten time of peace,

these men of war, who have no place in the world,

discharged on the spot as one dismisses a servant,

they are my men.

I can feel their anger, their hatred.

I only have them and they only have me.

♪ With hand grenades! ♪

History is made with cheap material,

with humanity's outcasts,

with the bottom of the barrel.

You inflame their anger,

arm them with bombs and guns.

It's with them that I will start a revolution.

♪ Armed to the teeth with hand grenades! ♪

We pushed this country into war

and led it to victory.

We shed our blood for our homeland.

And today, we create the Fasces of Combat,

for the future, the vanguard, the revolution!

Today, fascism is born.

ALL: Yes!

Fascism is a beautiful creature,

made up of dreams, ideals, courage, and change,

that will conquer millions and millions of hearts.

Yours too, I'm sure.

Follow me.

You'll love me, too.

You'll become fascists too.

CESARE: I'd say we were about 80.

Good thing we took the smaller room.

Still plenty of space.

M: If we were still at war, I'd shoot you for defeatism.

CESARE: Admit it, Benito. You also expected more

- than those airheads. - It's not about the heads.

It's about the hearts.

Good evening.

You can't look forward.

We built a home for our people.

There was plenty of space? Better. There's room for others.

ALBINO: Cesare, one day,

not even Piazza Duomo will be enough.

Am I right or not?

100, 200 new members.

And that's a low estimate. There are millions angry like beasts.

- MAN: Mussolini is here. - What the fuck did he want?

You'll see.

Cesare Rossi.

A unionist and a revolutionary.

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

We want to occupy with our power...

I can't imagine his cock,

But as for his brain, that is quite big.

But you don't need his brain to figure out who that was.

Mussolini, you wanted war and you got it.

- Happy? - Poor thing, he got hurt.

- In training, though. - (PEOPLE LAUGHING)

He finished his war in the hospital.

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

- To the traitor! - To the traitor!

- Socialists. - Socialists.

Followers of the man that two years ago, in Russia,

kicked out the tzar.

The great Vladimir Ilich Ulyanov, better known as Lenin.

To Mussolini, the traitor!

MAN 1: To the traitor! MAN 2: To the traitor!

Brotherhood, equality, power to people...

Well, there might be some good people

that cares about workers, the last, the exploited.

MAN 3: Socialist traitor.

They know plenty of big words,

but hard facts, very few.

And I should know.

I was one of them.

MAN 4: ♪ Forward people towards redemption

♪ Red flag, red flag

♪ Forward people towards redemption

OTHERS: (JOINING IN) ♪ Red flag will triumph

♪ Red flag will be triumphant

♪ Red flag will be triumphant

♪ Red flag will be triumphant

♪ Hurray to socialism and freedom!

♪ Forward people the cannon thunders

♪ Revolution, revolution

♪ Forward people the cannon thunders

♪ Revolution we want to make

♪ Revolution we want to make

♪ Revolution we want to make

♪ Revolution we want to make

♪ Hurray to socialism and freedom!

♪ From the country to the sea To the mine

♪ Red flags, red flags

♪ From the country to the sea To the mine... ♪

(MEN CLAMORING ANGRILY)

(HUMMING ALONG TO SINGING)

Savage. Fluid.

Necessary.

That's how violence should always be.

- (LAUGHING) - (MAN GRUNTING)

It'll triumph.

- Here we are! - Here we go!

MAN: Good evening. Have a seat.

Benito, tell me something.

Was fascism born for the revolution

or to beat up socialists?

You're still bothered by them.

M: Stai bon'!

I'm not bothered, I don't give a damn about socialists.

- Good evening. - Good evening.

I've got my people.

A people who will include workers, laborers.

With them, we'll beat this putrid liberal democracy.

- Where are you going? - To wage war to the world.

War isn't over. Not for us. We are war.

Goodnight, Cesarino.

Margherita,

the only woman in the world that I listen to.

Rich, cultured, refined.

And she's mine.

So what do you think?

MARGUERITA: Do you know what I like the most?

"We ask."

We ask.

M: What about what we ask? Don't you like that?

Nationalization, expropriation,

confiscation of Church properties,

workers running the factories.

You're farther left than the socialists.

Except the socialists will never actually do it.

They make promises, but they don't have the guts.

A never-ending wait for revolution.

We demand.

M: We demand?

My savage doesn't ask. My savage takes.

We demand.

WE DEMAND

(MARGHERITA MOANS)

WE DEMAND

WE DEMAND

WE DEMAND

M: We demand.

And what we demand, we shout.

And what we demand, we pursue to death.

Without countless "ifs" or "buts".

The endless flaccid distinctions

and the babble of socialist theater.

This is how you make politics,

and this is how you make a newspaper.

My newspaper.

Il Popolo d'Italia.

Headlines in block letters, buzzwords, dry,

straight to the reader's belly.

Not like L'Avanti, the ass wipe socialist paper.

I used to run it.

And then...

NOVEMBER 24, 1914

- Go away! Traitor! - Today, you hate me

because you still love me.

Warmonger! Traitor!

Go away! Go!

Traitor!

MAN: Down with war!

It's cruelly ironic

to shout "Down with war"...

...while people fight and die in the trenches.

Socialism is something that takes roots in the blood.

- Mussolini! - Traitor!

Warmonger!

Don't think that by tearing up my party membership,

you will remove my socialist convictions.

That you will prevent me from working

for the cause of socialism

and for the revolution!

- Traitor! - I will tell you now.

- Warmonger! - I will have no remission,

no mercy

for the reticent and the cowards.

Out of the party!

Traitor!

Traitor!

I gave you 12 years of my life.

MAN: Warmonger! Out!

Twelve years!

I will have no mercy for the reticent and the cowards.

MAN 1: Good evening, chickens!

Chickens!

MAN 2: Come on, cowards!

Come on!

Let's go!

Bastards!

Tonight's top story.

L'Avanti burns.

No! No! No!

CROWD: (SINGING) ♪ L'Avanti is no more!

♪ L'Avanti is no more!

♪ L'Avanti is no more!

♪ L'Avanti is no more!

♪ L'Avanti is no more!

♪ L'Avanti is no more!

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

- ♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪ - MAN: Mussolini!

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

- ♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪ - Mussolini!

- ♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪ - Mussolini!

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

♪ L'Avanti is no more! ♪

That's the first act of the civil war!

ALL: (CHEERING) Long live Mussolini!

Long live Mussolini!

Long live Mussolini!

GABRIELE D'ANNUNZIO: "Dear Mussolini,

the die is cast.

I'm departing now.

Tomorrow morning, I'll take Fiume by force.

May the God of Italy assist us.

I am feverish.

But it's impossible to postpone.

Once again, the spirit will dominate

the miserable flesh."

M: No! No! No!

For God's sake!

Dickhead!

Gabriele D'Annunzio.

Great poet,

hedonist, refined esthete.

Triumphant seducer, flying ace, and war hero.

The most famous living Italian in the world.

My people adore him.

They worship him.

How could they not?

He's a superman.

A man who flew into Vienna in the middle of the war,

dropping thousands of tricolor leaflets.

And what's the superman doing now?

He's going to Fiume.

What's Fiume?

An unknown continent?

Atlantis, Eldorado,

a tax haven?

No.

It's a rock on the Adriatic Sea.

A useless outpost on the homeland's eastern borders,

a clump of houses no one would give a fuck about

if it hadn't become a symbol.

At the end of the war,

the Allies were supposed to give it to Italy,

but they didn't.

They gave it to the Yugoslavs.

And what does our government do? Nothing.

So we started to shout,

What was the point of fighting, dying, and winning?

A magnificent expression was coined for it

that stirred people's hearts with patriotism.

Mutilated victory.

A mutilated victory.

Sadly, I didn't come up with it.

He did.

Always him. And now he's going to get it back.

A new, sensational act of heroism.

- (KNOCKING ON DOOR) - You can't come in.

D'Annunzio left for Fiume.

- He wants it back. - What a extraordinary man.

Don't joke, Margherita.

Do you know what happened seven years ago?

I chose you and rejected him.

The savage, not the poet.

And I've never regretted it.

Don't be jealous.

I'm not jealous, you cretin.

He treats me like a child, steals my spotlight

just when I've launched my creation.

You are jealous, but not of me.

- Either Fiume... - Or death!

- Either Fiume... - Or death!

- Either Fiume... - Or death!

If he pulls this off, it's a disaster for me.

I have a hundred misfits in a small room

and he takes a city.

But the army is 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.

(INTENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

- General. - Commander.

I must order you to turn back.

My love for my homeland prevents me from obeying you.

Homeland is best served by respecting

the authority of the state.

Go ahead then. Shoot on these medals.

He just rolled into Fiume without firing a shot.

They say through a huge crowd.

Everybody wants to go.

There. My lost people are more his than mine.

Jealous? Of course I'm jealous.

They also say he has a...

No way. He must have put a fucking eggplant in there!

The Fasces of Combat should be there,

in Fiume, with D'Annunzio.

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

If he rolled into Fiume through a huge crowd,

then it's not men he needs, right?

The government will react...

If they crush him,

I'll be crushed with him if I'm there.

A subscription.

We'll launch a subscription in the newspaper

in support of the heroic deeds in Fiume.

It's fucking right.

A nice subscription.

Rule number one of a good politician.

If you don't know how something will end, don't make a move.

Bide your time.

Cesarino knows that, he's smart.

Sooner or later, I'll kill him.

I'm kidding.

Well said, Cesarino.

I didn't even recognize him.

So thin and drawn, his groomed mustache, dressed all in black.

MAN 2: The count dressed like an undertaker?

MAN 1: Not like an undertaker.

- Like a fascist! - (ALL LAUGHING)

This I had yet to hear.

The count, a fascist.

Did you hear? Your party has won over a count.

Mussolini.

We won over many people,

but the Fasces of Combat are not a party.

What are you then?

We're an anti-party.

But what does that mean exactly?

We practice anti-politics.

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

We don't care about the electoral medal.

We're against elections.

- Against elections? - Yes, we're against elections.

We're against this state.

We're against the monarchy, against the church,

against the capital, the great powers.

- Against everything. - (ALL LAUGHING)

You don't understand.

Fascism is everything.

And the opposite of everything.

Sir.

There's a samurai for you.

For you, from the Commander.

A letter from D'Annunzio.

Excuse me.

GABRIELE: "My dear Mussolini,

you astonish me.

I've risked everything,

I gave everything,

I've earned everything.

I am the ruler of Fiume and of soldiers who will obey

no one but me.

Nothing can be done against me,

no one can remove me from here.

I have Fiume. I will hold onto Fiume for as long as I live.

Indisputably. And you tremble with fear,

capable only of a flaccid subscription."

Excuse me.

- I have to go. - Something serious?

An anti-letter?

The necessity to support Fiume and the Commander

obliges me to return to the newspaper.

If you'll excuse me.

"You let the most abject swindler

in the history of universal scum

put his swinish foot on your neck,

the Slug."

M: He's talking about Nitti, the head of the government.

An old tool, a relic from the last century.

GABRIELE: The Slug.

"Any other country would have overthrown him.

But you just dawdle,

settling old scores with the socialists

while we fight, moment after moment

against this cowardly government.

Where are the fascists?

The Arditi, the volunteers, the Futurists!

Wake up! Shame on you! Pierce at least the belly

that weights you down

and deflate it.

Or I'll come when I've consolidated my power.

But I won't look you in the eye...

Go on, revel in despair,

lazy pigs of your eternal siesta.

Lazy!

What do you want to do? The Fasces are on his side.

Those not in Fiume, would like to be.

What happened after the great poet-flying

ace-war hero took Fiume?

Did Italy rise up? Did the government fall?

Nothing, Cesarino. Nothing happened.

We only sold more copies.

I've never seen a revolution begin in some tiny town

1,000 miles from the center of the country.

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

True, but...

One word from poet-flying ace-war hero,

- our men would turn on us. - ...my men would turn on me.

Hey!

Publish the letter tomorrow.

- With all the insults? - Duly revised.

Headline:

"D'Annunzio asks Mussolini to help him.

And Mussolini goes to Fiume, in person."

Election campaign. We vote in a month.

Benito, we're against elections.

We were against. We were. You don't keep up!

Only mules and bollard don't change their minds.

We get out of D'Annunzio shadow,

we spread, change the playing field.

So you're going to Fiume...

Call the Fasces for a congress. We will announce it.

With the poet's blessing,

those who love him will vote for me.

Flying.

Only an idiot would deny the divine nature of flying.

No more the fratricidal domain of man over man,

but man's dominion over nature, over the universe.

A pilot is a superior creature,

a discoverer of new worlds.

So, how are we doing?

- All good. - Good.

Good.

Commander, at last.

Mussolini.

At last.

I flew, Commander,

to get here as soon as possible.

As soon as your emissary delivered your letter.

My comrade Samurai, a valiant and literal combatant,

and a poet himself,

has been back here for days.

As soon as I could, Commander.

As soon as I could.

But what I see here repays me for the impatience I endured.

As a patriot, combatant, and fascist,

I only have one thing to say.

Thank you.

If at least half of Italy resembled the people of Fiume,

we would rule the world.

I'm ready for anything.

But we need to understand each other.

We must clarify our political goals.

(SCOFFS) "Political goals."

With the ships of that slug Nitti

pointing their cannons at us?

Fiume is nothing more

than a solitary peak of heroism where death will be sweet

after a last sip of her water.

If this city is not returned to the homeland in ten days,

I will cast the dice one more time.

Should this martyred city be martyred again, I will avenge it

with a huge reprisal.

Commander,

we can halt the hand of the Slug on November 16th.

With the elections.

"Elections."

There'll be a landslide victory for Fiume.

"Elections."

While this adorable people is impoverished and tortured,

you're only capable of resignation.

Resignation? On the contrary, Commander.

I say we take the struggle,

the energy of Fiume to Parliament.

The legionnaires here, the fascists in Rome.

Like claws.

Speaking of which...

Speaking of which,

to encourage the voters,

perhaps you might furnish me with a message.

The fight revolves mostly around your name, you know.

You'll be leader of our rallies.

You have my absolute devotion.

Vanity is his Achilles' heel.

No.

No?

No.

You will never convince real Italians

to draw a cowardly cross on a ballot.

The Arditi dare, they don't conspire.

The Arditi fight, they battle,

they face the enemy hand-to-hand,

with a knife between their teeth.

For the country, the glory, and the honor, until death.

To whom, death?

To whom, death?

To whom, death?

Commander, I don't...

To us. To whom, death?

- To us. - To whom, death?

To us.

- To whom, death? - To us!

- Go higher! - What?

Go higher. The police!

- We can't! - It's the police, Lombardi!

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

Come on. Come on. Faster! Faster!

Land now! Come down!

Come down!

Come down!

For fuck's sake, Lombardi. For fuck's sake!

They'll arrest us.

This is simply abuse of power. I demand right now...

General.

General, I'm expected in Florence

for the first congress of the Fasces of Combat.

Wait.

Mussolini, you know perfectly well

the occupation of Fiume is illegal.

Then why did you go there?

That's obvious, General.

Well?

I went to leverage D'Annunzio's common sense,

to find a compromise, to unravel the situation.

FASCES OF COMBAT CONGRESS FLORENCE, OCTOBER 10, 1919

(CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY)

He never made it to the hotel, he didn't catch the 7:39 train.

- Let's start. - Without him?

Of course. What else? We send them home?

- Go on. Don't waste time. - I can't make a speech.

What do I say?

I don't know. Improvise.

You're the one who's good with words.

That's not the point.

(IN LATIN) Like rejoices in like.

What?

Dumini, they know you.

You speak the same language. They respect you.

Your audacity is worth more than my words.

Come on, Dumini.

(ALL APPLAUDING)

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thanks to all the heroes here today.

Thanks to men like Carlo Delcroix.

- Bravo Delcroix. - Bravo.

Fascist brothers!

We, the mutilated, with our stumps,

will sing a death sentence to every coward!

MAN 1: Bravo. MAN 2: Death to cowards!

AMERIGO: We...

We that...

We.

We that pushed... For fuck's sake!

(CROWD LAUGHING)

We that pushed the country to war.

We...

We that shed...

M: Fascist comrades!

AMERIGO: For Benito Mussolini!

- Eja! Eja! - Alalà!

- Eja! Eja! - Alalà!

Eja! Eja! Alalà!

Eja! Eja! Alalà!

Eja! Eja! Alalà!

Eja! Eja! Alalà!

Eja! Eja! Alalà!

Eja! Eja! Alalà!

Eja! Eja! Alalà!

Eja! Eja! Alalà!

Eja! Eja! Alalà!

Eja! Eja! Alalà!

Sorry if I'm late, but I just landed.

I have just arrived

from Fiume!

- Long live D'Annunzio! - Long live D'Annunzio!

- Long live D'Annunzio! - CROWD: Long live D'Annunzio!

Yesterday at noon,

we left by airplane,

me and the brave lieutenant Carlo Lombardi,

an heroic aviator who can boast 12 downed aircrafts

and three medals of valor!

- Long live Lombardi! - Long live Lombardi!

- Bravo! - Bravo!

At 13,000 feet,

we were hit by a terrible storm.

- The bora threatened us... - Down with the bora!

- Come on, Cesarino. - Sit down.

Calm down, Cesarino. Calm down.

We broke through a dense curtain of clouds

to emerge over Aiello.

The roar of the engine attracted

the attention of all the people

as we landed on the airfield.

Many shouted, "Stop!"

I came down.

And I personally faced the leaders of our armed forces.

Do you know what I told them?

CROWD: What?

- Do you know what I told them? - CROWD: What?

That we'll fight for Fiume to the death!

CROWD: Yes!

History is made with the outcasts, you know that?

You inflame their anger,

arm them with bombs and guns,

and if necessary, ballot pencils.

We'll fight in Fiume

and in Parliament.

- (CROWD MURMURING) - No, not in Parliament!

Calm down! Calm down! Calm down!

MAN: The Parliament makes us sick!

In Parliament,

we'll launch into the electoral campaign

that will end on November 16th.

- No! - We won't vote!

M: We'll go to Rome.

We'll go to Rome the way we went to war.

And war will only end when we have swept away

all the remnants of the past,

all the mummies that wither away in Parliament,

and opened every path to the future for Italy!

CESARE: Exactly!

ARDITI: No! We're going to fight!

We are not monarchists,

republicans, socialists, democrats,

conservatives, reactionaries, right?

- No! - True!

We're a synthesis of all the affirmations

and all the negations.

CROWD: Yes!

We fascists

have no preconceived ideas.

Our only doctrine

is action!

CROWD: (CHEERING) Yes!

Where are you going? I was first.

Fuck off!

Move!

We'll go to the vote alone

as if to war.

CROWD: Yes!

To whom, glory?

CROWD: To whom?

To us!

To us!

- To whom, glory? - To us!

To whom, glory?

To us!

- Long live Mussolini! - Long live Mussolini!

Long live Mussolini!

Benito, calm down.

M: Go home, everyone.

CROWD: (SINGING) ♪ The great Worker's Party

♪ We are

♪ A red flower has bloomed in our bosoms

♪ A faith is born in our hearts

♪ We are no longer in the workshop

♪ Across the land From the fields to the sea

♪ The plebs always bent to work

♪ Without an ideal in which to hope

♪ Let's fight!

♪ Our ideal will finally be

♪ The international

♪ Future humanity!

♪ A great standard blazing in the sun

♪ Goes before us, glorious

♪ By it, we want the chains

♪ To freedom be broken down!

♪ And let the machine be an ally... ♪

- There he is! - Traitor!

- Traitor! - Mussolini!

♪ So the life renewed

♪ Will give man peace and love!

♪ So, let's fight!

♪ The ideal will be ours at last ♪

Mussolini! Get him!

Get him!

We'll find you!

MAN 1: Mussolini! Mussolini! MAN 2: Find him!

Find him!

There he is! Mussolini!

Mussolini! Find him!

Mussolini, traitor!

Come in! Come in!

MAN 3: Hey, Mussolini, I've heard you're a dead man.

MAN 4: Let him be and play.

MAN 5: Mussolini!

We'll find you!

M: We got 4,796 votes.

Not a single fascist candidate elected.

Not even me.

We got 4,796 votes.

The socialists got one million and 300 thousand.

A landslide.

And here I am, stuck between these four suffocating walls.

Alone.

With my family.

They're holding my funeral, Rachele! My funeral!

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

You're scaring the kids.

- Daddy is kidding. - Daddy is kidding.

- MAN 7: Mussolini! - (BANGING ON DOOR)

Mussolini!

- Mussolini! - (BANGING CONTINUES)

Mussolini, open the door!

WOMAN: Stop, be quiet!

MAN 7: Open the door, Mussolini!

Be quiet, ok?

Here, take it.

- (BANGING CONTINUES) - MAN 7: Mussolini!

D'Annunzio wouldn't surrender. The supermen go down fighting.

Take it.

Go.

To whom, death?

To us.

BOY: Mum.

(BANGING CONTINUES)

- Who's there? - OFFICER: The police!

Mussolini, open the door.

What do you want?

Organization of armed gangs?

Is this a joke?

Put them away. Come on.

We didn't do anything wrong, neither I nor my men.

The accusation is ridiculous.

OFFICER: It comes from the magistrate.

Open the door. You're under arrest!

I'll be home in an hour.

CROWD: ♪ A red flower has bloomed in our bosoms

♪ A faith is born in our hearts

♪ We are no longer in the workshop

♪ Across the land From the fields to the sea

♪ The plebs always bent to work... ♪

Long live fascism! Long live Mussolini!

A massacre.

My name is Mussolini Benito Amilcare Andrea,

son of Mussolini Alessandro and Maltoni Rosa.

I'm 35.

I am like the beasts.

I smell the weather before it changes.

And the change will never come.

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)