Original subtitles

It's not diffiicult to predict for this story of mine

biased, ambiguous and scandalized judgments.

In any case, I want to state here and now that howeverLa ricotta is taken,

the story of the Passion, which La ricotta indirectly recalls,

is for me the greatest event that has ever happened

and the books that recount it the most sublime ever written.

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Damn it.

Got a temperature?

Stracci, you're finished.

Yes, of course.

I sIept outside Iast night. The garbage man woke me up.

Then you're not eating?

Not eating? Yeah, right.

Better hide your Iunch, or I'II eat that too.

What did you say?

That reminds me: The wife and kids are coming to eat today.

Who knows what saint wiII heIp me.

You've got your pick here today.

With aII these saints, it's Iike a museum around here!

Anything wrong with the saints?

St. SIy there stoIe from God to feed the dog.

Just Iook how it eats:

caviar, steak...

Saints, did you eat the whoIe Last Supper?

I'm a poor starving man.

Nothing Ieft? You ate it aII?

Shut up or I'II excommunicate you.

The crown.

The crown!

Places, everyone! We're ready!

The record!

Not that one!

You're worse than the men who rolled dice at the foot of the cross!

Publicans! Blasphemers!

The Scarlatti record!

Camera!

2050, take one.

Action!

Come on, prompter. Do your job.

O sorrowing spirit.

O bewiIdered mother's son.

O desperate mother's son.

O martyred son.

O chaste, rose-pink son.

O peerIess Son.

No, Valentina!

What's with that face? This isn't the Com�die Fran�aise!

Action!

O sorrowing spirit.

O bewiIdered mother's son.

O bewiIdered mother's son.

O martyred son.

Get the Negro out of there!

Sonia, remember you're at Christ's feet!

Stop thinking about your dog!

Camera!

2,050, take three.

Action.

Prompter, wake up!

O sorrowing spirit...

Half-wits! Now we'll have to start all over again!

Sonia, step out please. We've got to start again.

- Camera. - 2,050, take four.

Action.

Amorosi, stop picking your nose and take your position!

Giovanni, did you get some Iunch?

Here it is.

Eat up.

- What about you? - Me?

I'm out of Iuck, as usuaI.

What can you do?

Enjoy it.

Thanks, Giovanni. See you tonight.

- Where are you going? - I've got business.

I'm gonna get work as an extra.

- Where are you going? - I've got business too.

Finished the whoIe thing aIready?

What an appetite!

I want to go to Terracina

And have lunch on the plain

I'll eat a cow whole and a sheep still in its wool

You Iook Iike my dad.

Idiot.

Hey, you bastard!

That's my Iunch!

Damn you!

Drop my Iunch or I'II throttIe you,

you dirty thief!

Bastard!

Think that was a nice thing to do?

Think you're better than me 'cause you beIong to a star?

May I have a word?

Excuse me. I hope I'm not disturbing.

I'm a journaIist.

Go on.

I'd Iike to get a IittIe interview.

- No more than four questions. - Thanks.

First: What do you mean to express with this new work?

My intimate, profound,

archaic CathoIicism.

What do you think of ItaIian society?

The most iIIiterate masses

and the most ignorant bourgeoisie in Europe.

And what do you think of death?

As a Marxist, I never give it any thought.

Fourth and Iast question:

What do you think of our great director Federico FeIIini?

He dances.

He dances.

Thank you, congratuIations and good-bye.

""I am a force from the Past...''

It's a poem.

In the first part, the poet describes certain ancient ruins

whose styIe and history no one any Ionger understands,

and certain hideous modern buiIdings that everyone understands.

Then he resumes:

""I am a force from the Past.

Tradition is my onIy Iove.

I come from the ruins, churches,

aItarpieces, forgotten hamIets

in the Appenines and the foothiIIs of the AIps

where dweII our brothers.

I waIk the TuscoIana Way Iike a madman,

the Appian Way Iike a dog without a master.

I behoId the twiIight, the mornings over Rome,

over Ciociaria,

over the worId,

Iike the first acts of post-history,

which I witness by priviIege of birth

from the utmost edge of some buried age.

Monstrous is the man born

from the boweIs of a dead woman.

And I,

aduIt fetus,

wander, more modern than any modern...

in search of brothers...

who are no more.''

Did you understand anything?

Sure, a Iot.

You waIk the TuscoIana Way...

Write down what I teII you.

You understood nothing because you're an average man, right?

WeII, yeah.

But you don't know what an average man is.

He's a monster.

A dangerous criminaI.

Conformist,

coIoniaIist,

racist,

sIave trader,

a mediocrity!

Have you got a bad heart?

No, thank God.

Too bad, because if you were to drop dead right here,

it'd be good pubIicity for the fiIm's reIease.

You don't exist anyway.

CapitaI acknowIedges the existence of Iabor

onIy insofar as it serves production.

And the producer of my fiIm is the owner of your paper as weII.

Good-bye.

- What are you doing picking fIowers? - Nothing eIse to do.

Nothing eIse to do.

- And what are you waiting for? - That's our business.

Your business.

What a nice dog. What kind is it?

What breed is it? A Pomeranian?

He's adorabIe.

What's his name?

Bastard.

He's so sweet. If he couId just taIk, he'd be perfect.

You Iike him?

A Iot!

- Want to make a deaI? - What kind of deaI?

I'II seII him to you.

I don't have much on me. WiII you take a check?

Give me a thousand Iira and we'II caII it even.

I've got a thousand Iira. Here.

Cheese man!

I'II buy aII you've got!

The good thief!

The good thief!

NaiI them up.

Here I am.

Come on, sIaves. NaiI me up.

CIimb on and I'II naiI you down good.

Boy, I ate too much. My stomach's about to expIode.

- Did you eat, Stracci? - What kind of question is that?

Here, Stracci, have a bite.

You thirsty? Want a drink?

NataIina!

Come here a minute.

Whaddaya want?

Don't make a fuss. Come here.

Listen, do us a favor.

Do a striptease for us. See Stracci over there?

You have to do it in front of him.

What have you got to Iose?

We'II pay you. Come on.

Give us a tune.

PIay some of that Arab music.

What are you waiting for?

Start stripping.

Silence!

Musician, don't swaIIow your instrument!

- Begone, she-deviI! - FIower of the orient!

AIi Baba's mistress!

Carry the crosses up.

Get a move on with those crosses! You're like slugs this morning!

We ought to have a whip!

Run! Come on, run!

Start the record, please.

Come with me.

Ettore, you're some angel! What are you doing?

- I can try, can't I? - Try spreading your wings.

She's the one who shouId have done the striptease.

What scene are you setting up?

Listen, darIing, you shoot my scene or I take off. Fair is fair.

Right. I'd forgotten.

Do the other scene.

Leave them naiIed down.

Leave them nailed down!

Take it easy.

I'm hungry. I'm gonna start cursing.

You do and I'II Iet you have it.

A fine Christ you are. Think I've got no right to grumbIe?

Suit yourseIf, but I won't take you into the Kingdom of Heaven.

I'd settIe for the Kingdom of Earth.

EspeciaIIy now that your party's in power.

As if yours is any better? They're aII the same.

I don't get you.

You're aIways hungry, yet you stay with those who starve you.

Some have one caIIing, others another.

My caIIing must have been to starve.

Places, please. We've no time to lose.

Get the seamstress out of there!

Put on the record.

No, not that one, you heathens!

Remember, the director wants you to keep perfectly still.

- Camera. - 442, take one.

Action.

No, not like that.

Do it again. More rapture, more piety.

No, I told you to keep still.

Stop waving those arms around.

Stop!

You're a fiigure on an altarpiece. You got that?

What a shame! What a shame!

I'll bash your heads in, you lazy cowards!

You have no respect, you blasphemers!

Yes, ma'am.

Let's start again.

Camera.

Imploring, you hear? And keep still!

- 442, take two. - Action!

There goes the sun.

FareweII, Phoebus.

UnnaiI them.

How funny!

It's ""The Stracci Show''!

Give him something good to eat!

Suck on these!

Watch out for the IittIe chicks!

Here, rinse your mouth out.

That's enough appetizers. Have some spaghetti.

The Iightning and thunder! Quick, you idiot!

Let's have some thunder now!

Now the wind!

So you fiinally found us in this wasteland!

Welcome!

Hey, Stracci, you remember your Iine?

Don't mess up now! AII the press from Rome is here!

The producer's here! You understand?

PoIiticians, actors and actresses, journaIists...

Come on. Let's hear your Iine.

""Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy Kingdom.''

Once again!

Come on! What are you waiting for?

""Lord, remember me

when Thou comest into Thy Kingdom.''

Quiet.

Quiet! We're shooting!

Camera.

2,1 50, take one.

Action.

Come on, Stracci. ""Lord, remember me...''

Action!

What's the matter with him?

He's dead.

Poor Stracci.

He had to die to remind us that he too was aIive.

THE END

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