Original subtitles

Portrait of a Nude Woman

I hope the many treasures collected here,

for the joy of others,

in the home of the bridegroom's father,

as in the bride's, for that matter,

may be joined by more treasures.

May the Lord send Arabella and Luciano

sons and daughters!

Thank you. Thanks, but I'm not finished.

Two more words.

Children who will grow up happy

in the Catholic rites,

protected by the Lord,

like you, the descendants

of two great families who are honor

to our holy city of Venice!

To wish this new union well,

let me remind you of a happy example:

the marriage of my niece Laura.

We guard against disintegration

by rediscovering family values.

Why do people marry?

Certainly not just for the carnal pleasures,

but to create a spiritual union.

The ritual phrase

"until death do us part",

consecrates the indissolubilty,

I would say, the eternity, of matrimony.

Because death...

Because death...

Excuse me, am I boring you?

Yes!

Bravo, Sandro! Your frankness

persuades me to move to the refreshments.

What's up? - Thanks, you saved our lives.

So then, a toast!

Let's wish the newly-weds a long and happy life!

The cake, monsignor. - The cutting of the cake.

With pleasure!

Sandro is not easy. - It's Venice that's not easy.

- 'Evening. - 'Evening to you.

When is it over? I'm tired. - Why? Haven't you slept enough?

Don't go away, after the comfits the Patriarch is coming to give his blessing!

The blessing? Who'd miss that?

Please, where's my coat? - To the right. - Thanks.

Which way... But you're Zanetto, the architect!

You beat it too, eh?

Yes, I did a few rounds but I can't find my way home.

I'll take you. Or shall we have a drink first with these friends?

No thanks, it's too late. Just give me some directions.

I'll walk you. This will force me to get home earlier and to stop drinking.

Won't it harm you? - For once, I don't think. I'll walk you. - Thanks.

Goodnight.

Weddings depress me. A lifetime of forced cohabitation! - Are you married?

I couldn't. I didn't know whether to be the groom or the bride.

Then you did well... Oh, God!

What's that? - A sewer rat, a mouse... You thought it was a seal?

By its dimensions, it seemed like.

There's more mice in this town than in cartoons!

Sure. But there are also lots of ghosts.

And they're more dangerous at our age.

Yeah? And what should you do, to avoid them?

The ghosts? You just have to be honest with yourself,

and not fill yourself with lies, becoming a sour old spinster like me.

It's tough growing old!

Don't forget that Charon disguises himself as a gondolier here. - It's not cheerful.

Even Hemingway didn't like Venice. - Oh, I didn't know that.

Let me say you're pretty ignorant for a bookseller.

My wife's the bookseller.

I've always dealt with cars, racing car engines. I also did a few races.

Then Venice... is the wrong town for you.

Well, were it just for this!

Can I ask you something? - Okay, but I'd rather keep walking.

You wife loves you?

Yes, but that's not it.

And you love your wife?

Yes, but...

But what?

Just but. I wish I knew myself.

If I may express my thought, the so-called conjugal crisis,

has busted my balls, I don't know how to say it.

I see that you know! Maybe that's why you avoided the personal experience.

Anyway, that's not our case.

You really don't want a drink? Or my company annoys you? - Not at all.

I just don't want to be late.

So then?

I brought you here to give you a present.

At this hour?

I can only give it at this hour.

What is it?

That of today is the year's longest dawn!

Did you know that? - No. - Look at the zenith!

Watch! The planetary miracle, the meeting of East and West.

The orient and occident...

kiss each other!

Who are we to deserve so much?

I feel like crying. - Yeah, me too.

Look, shall we go home now? - But, we've arrived. - About time!

There it is. - Where? - There.

There's my house.

But where's mine?

I don't know.

The Antique Bookstore... - Oh, the bookstore!

We passed it an hour ago. It's on the other side.

You talk to no end... - Oh, I'm the one who talks, eh?

Cross the canal. No, you can't swim. This way may be better.

You go... - Where? - No, no... - It's not easy from here.

Yes, I've called the hospitals...

I don't know, commissioner!

What if he fell into a canal?

Maybe you should alert the police launches.

He doesn't know anyone here. I'm really worried!

I assure you, commissioner, it's not normal.

In the sense that he never did it before.

No matter, never mind!

Thanks a lot, I'm sorry.

Basketball team pivot in junior high...

St. Mary's school.

I can still do it.

Next time you disappear, warn me. - It'll be done.

So I won't worry and I won't look like a fool to my friends.

Sure, ma'am. Anything else, ma'am?

You know what time it is? - Yes, I know.

It's dawn.

The longest dawn of the year.

The orient joins the occident, and the ball breaking reached its zenith.

Which is why I made a decision.

Hey! I'm talking to you!

Talking? - Yes, I talk this way when I'm pissed!

And it's you who pisses me off! What's that?

A tranquilizer, so you calm down. - No, I want to fight!

And I want to sleep! - That's too easy! Who do I fight with?

I'm going to work in 2 hours.

I've to tell you now.

Because maybe in 2 hours I'll have packed and left for Rome.

I can no longer stand living in this town, in bain-marie.

But it was you who wanted to come to Venice.

You rented your repair shop in Rome because you didn't like Rome anymore!

You wanted to keep dad's bookstore going! - Okay, whoever it was.

Ever since we live here we keep on arguing!

And they call Venice "the serene one." Where is serenity?

I'm going to Rome. If you love me you'll come too. If not, it means you don't care.

Indeed, that you never gave a damn.

You lousy rascal!

Are you crazy?! You're throwing things at me now?

I came to Venice because I loved you.

Now I must go to Rome or else I don't love you.

What else shall I do? Sure...

let's go to quarrel in Rome. Or in Constantinople, if it suits you!

I can't do more than love you.

If these are the results let's stop being in love!

Or we'll end up killing each other for love!

We've been in love 16 years.

What an effort! I can't take anymore! Let's hate each other a bit!

At least to restore the balance.

I could have been scarred... right by my eye!

Then she says that I get vulgar.

We're deciding our future and you take a shower?

What are you, an orangutan?

Damn it!

What's wrong?

Laura... Why are you crying?

We were fighting so well.

Laura... Laura, darling.

I'm tired, Sandro.

I'm tired. - Don't listen to me, you know I'm crazy.

I don't know what's got into me lately.

Come here, sweetheart!

I'm sorry, forgive me honey!

Wait, I'll get you a towel.

I've always tried to understand you, but I can't take any more.

Let's find a solution. - No, what solution?

I wouldn't trade you with anyone else.

Why don't you try? - What?

To go with another woman.

I don't want another woman! Why another woman?

I want to be with you.

We haven't made love for 7 months. - Come on, 7 months... 7 months?!

Are you sure?

Maybe you could with someone else.

But I'm in love with you. Wouldn't it hurt you if I went with another woman?

I want to be in peace. I'm sick of these fights, Sandro.

I want... I want to see you relaxed.

You've a right too.

You too, it's 7 months without making love. - It's different for me.

Different? Isn't it 7 months for you too?

Wouldn't it bother you if I went with another man?

Help me, Laura, I'm not feeling well. - Yes, honey.

I know, I'm jealous, may be age.

But now it bothers me even if one looks at you. - Calm down.

It's lucky I'm safe with you.

Laura? - Eh? - I was saying, it's lucky I'm safe with you.

Laura, what's wrong, don't you answer? - Sorry...

I was thinking of how we've changed! - In what way?

Once we used to make love with joy.

In the most incredible places.

Well, almost always in bed. Once in the kitchen, once at the entrance.

Above all we were happy, we'd laugh.

Oh God, we can still have a few laughs.

I can still afford a few laughs. I'm coming.

You could actually go with another man?

No, don't tell me, I don't want to know. - Sandro...

I love you.

I didn't get that. - I'm crazy about you.

Say that again, please?

I can't live without you.

There, see? As soon as we make up,

everything goes back to normal.

Come here, darling.

I love your perfume. You smell nice.

Sandro?

Sandro?!

Dear Plutarch, you too have a good place.

Milan, 1825. Six volumes with copper engravings.

You look really good, there. But, why did you fall?

"The Fall of the Roman Empire." You're forgiven.

Now I'll find a place for you too. - Good morning, Giovanni.

Well risen! - Where's Laura?

Miss Laura's at a library auction.

Miss Laura works. She always works, she does.

Giova', I'm tired of telling you!

"Miss" Laura has been married to me for 16 years.

And if it weren't enough, she had a daughter with yours truly!

So, even not wanting it, she became a Missus.

It doesn't seem that you let her live like a "lady", "Miss" Laura.

You, for one, live like a lord, coming down in the shop for snacks.

Do you have Juvenal's "Satires"? - We don't have it. - That figures!

Juvenal's "Satires"?

We don't we have it? Then what's this?!

I won't give it to him. He keeps the books poorly, he lends them.

That's why this bookstore doesn't pay. You don't sell the books.

I can't sell certain books, also because they're not catalogued yet,

and they're part of a section that Miss Laura is setting up personally.

Not even I can touch them.

What? - This Juvenal was a lecher.

A great one. - A great lecher.

Look here what he says.

"What the Emperor Claudius had to bear.

As soon as he fell asleep, his wife would put on a disguise and leave.

Hiding her black hair under a blonde wig,

she would go to a brothel and give her body for money."

Blessed be the ignoramus! This is a rare specimen.

Miss Laura unearthed it in a monastery. To get it she had to bribe the Prior,

and only Heaven knows how she did it!

What do you mean? - It's not easy.

A Juvenal like this is unobtainable. I'd sell my soul to the devil to get it,

but my soul, they don't want it.

I beg your pardon, ma'am?

Yes, canoes here in Venice.

This guy is really kind.

He finds me rare books and asks almost nothing for them.

Almost?

May I?

Thank you.

Again!

How come you got this mania? For this stuff?

For erotic art? - Well, call it erotic art...

Well, I'm interested. Maybe because the topic is new to me.

New to you! What about me?

What have you to do with erotic art? - Oh, I don't?

You've been married to me for 16 years. I must have taught you something...

Where are you going?

Laura!

Explain why I've nothing to do with it.

Sandro, darling, erotic art means such a sublimation of eroticism,

to become cerebral and aim of desire,

hence a cultural creation. - So? Because I have a moment of crisis?

Okay, 7 months!

Always randy, you women!

Hello, Laura.

Hi! - Remember, don't miss the party!

Sure! - What party? - A carnival party. Smile!

I'm smiling, fuck.

You committed me as well? - You're not obligated.

If you must come to sleep on a chair then don't come.

Well, the idea of dressing like an idiot to meet a moron isn't very appealing.

Here! Erotic art!

Then you say we men are obsessed.

I'm doing it for you.

But it can't become a fixed idea. - The fixed idea is yours.

And I can't go on like this. - Then let's split up! - Yes, it's best.

So fast! Then you weren't expecting else!

You could've said it before, and not make me believe we were fighting together to save it,

this marriage. - But maybe...

Maybe this is a way to save it.

A break will do us good, Sandro.

Both of us. - Fine! I'll pack my bags now!

I'll come back only when you want me.

Cursed be me and when I came to Venice.

Will you go to Rome? - I go where the fuck I want!

Until now, all I thought of was you, our daughter, the workshop.

From now on I'll think only of myself.

You said I had nothing to do with erotic art? I'm going to learn.

I want to be the Marco Polo of eroticism!

I'll study its roots:

Bangkok, Hong Kong... Kamasutra.

Kamasutra is not a place. - Don't worry. I'll find it anyway.

I'll ask. I want to take a nice trip to the Orient!

I'd say that you can stay here at my place. - Great.

So they'll say I left my wife for you.

So what? There would be no harm.

At our age, trying a new experience

is a sign of vitality, intelligence. - And I'm not intelligent, okay?

It's just that in a hotel I'd probably kill myself.

No doubt.

It's a short step from marriage to suicide.

What a drag!

Cup of tea? - Yes, thanks.

Know who could put you up? - Who?

No. No...

Maybe not.

Better find someone else.

Someone else...

I found it! Pireddu! That's just what you need.

He lives in a splendid 18th century palazzo.

Who is Pireddu? - He's a great photographer,

very refined, charming... You'll like him a lot.

I say, you still remember that we have different tastes? Yes? Good.

Even if you don't deserve it...

I'll take you there and you'll be grateful.

Let's hope so.

They're cheerful people, very lively...

It's a pleasure to meet them. - But how many Pireddu are there?

Pireddu is just one, but he has a lot of friends.

Thank you.

They all stay with him, they live together?

They're here for the Biennial.

They're writers, painters, poets, actors, drunkards...

Drunkards?

You'll see. You'll see...

A cookie? I made them myself. That's it, good.

Well!

But, where are you taking me? With you one always walks for miles.

We've been walking an hour. - We've arrived.

Ah, at last!

We lacked water in Venice!

What do I know? - Is there still someone? - Yes, there are.

- Ciao. - Come va?

I saw your poster for the convention. - Did you like it? - Only that.

Only when the first primitive man did the first scribble was himself. - Eat shit!

From then on, everyone owes to the preceding one. - Archaeological-genetic platitudes!

The truth is that you deserve Sciltian!

Hey, Zanetto. - Hi.

They only accept crap at the Biennial,

and reject the quality paintings.

Do a piece of crap and bring it. Let's see if they take it.

No, you do the crap! I don't compromise!

Try working instead of always arguing. Argue with your work.

He's got a persecution mania, like all slackers.

You're lunatic! - No! You accept the Party's dishing out!

A card carrier here, a bootlicker there...

And the really talented, up the ass? No, I don't agree!

I'm against it exactly on principle.

Look, Pireddu, I've brought a friend. He's a southerner like you.

Sardinian? - Apulian?

Er... Roman of the south. - Better than nothing.

Can you put him up? - Paying, of course.

Nothing doing. For Zanetto's friends it's free or nothing.

Well, better free than nothing.

Which room will you give him? - I'll find one.

What's there to eat if you're hungry? - Grilled cheese, and bread and garlic.

Ah, always cheese! Better to go to bed without dinner.

But if you taste this, you sleep better.

Hey, whatcha doing? - Oh, sorry.

They told me there's a room with a bed, but I can't find it.

Further on, go on, it's not here.

There? Oh, further on, thanks.

It may be 18th century...

but it's never been fixed.

Sandro? Sandro?

He can't hear. - He's just pretending he can't hear.

Great place...

He wanted to be the Marco Polo of eroticism, look where he ended up.

Hong Kong. - Bangkok. - Kamasutra.

Sandro... Maybe you're a jerk?

Okay, I'm a jerk. Happy now?

Leave him alone, he's pissed.

Sorry if I meddle.

Who are you?

May I give you an advice?

Say, here they all speak anyway.

You should go see a doctor.

Why is that?

He's right. You'll have to anyway.

Because here, at the very least, you'll catch a bronchopneumonia.

In my opinion, you're not a jerk, you're a paranoid.

I see many of them, they're... Watch out!

Thank you.

He's really stoned!

Are you convinced now? You're paranoid.

And also a little jerk.

Yes, but don't be all over him.

You'll confuse him all the more. - That's right.

Well, I'll be going. For me, here it's a little damp.

Goodnight. - Goodnight. - Goodnight to you.

What now? - Nothing. He's going to the john.

When did she do it?

Who is it?

It's me!

Me who?

Me, me! Damn...

Sandro! You're back? - Can't you tell? Open up!

What's wrong?

I'll tell you later, open up! I've been ringing for an hour!

But I wasn't expecting anyone. You even scared me.

Open the door!

What's the matter?

I forgot something. - What?

The thing... The door key. May I come in?

You're soaked!

Of course! You did a full interrogation before opening.

You woke me up at 2 at night just for the key?

Would I, if I'd had it?

Why are you staring at me?

Why, can't I?

Here's the key. - Thanks.

I'm so used to having it on me. - Sandro! - Yes?

Why did you come back?

For the key.

But dont worry.

I'll be gone in the morning at the latest.

I'm settled at a friend's of Zanetto.

A famous photographer.

What's his name?

Pireddu. Know him?

Who?

Pireddu.

No, why should I know him?

He's Sardinian.

As if I knew all the Sardinians who are in Venice.

Big deal! How many will be the Sardinians in Venice? Two, three...

four at the most.

What are you doing?

Weren't you staying for the night? - So? Can't I sleep in my bed?

I remind you we're separated.

So what happens if I sleep with you for a night?

For that matter, nothing. - It figures!

And you say it's not important to you?

You don't miss a chance to put me down. What's that?

Your sleeping pill. - I don't need it.

But I do, a lot.

'Night!

Go, go... You can't fool me.

You don't know him, huh?

I'll show you now. Fall asleep, and then...

we'll see if you know him.

What do you wanna do? - I know what, don't worry.

You seem crazy!

Fuck...

Laura!

Laura!

May I?

Is Pireddu here? - No.

Where the fuck is it?

Good morning!

Good morning. - What are you doing here?

They told me you'd left.

Yes, to look for shelter.

Oh yes! I'll have to make up my mind to do some restoration.

It's XVIII century.

Look, yesterday there was a photo of a naked woman, from the back, right here.

From the back? Oh, Yes... Why?

I'd like to know her name.

You like her? - Never mind, fuck! Just tell me her name.

And if I don't want to tell you?

Why should I name a lady who posed nude for me?

It's a professional secret.

Is she a married lady? - A married lady? What's that supposed to mean?

She's a strange one.

In what way?

Not really strange, but... likeable.

She's "free". - Yes...

In short, if you fancy her, it's not hard. - I get it...

So what's her name? - Oh, right now I can't even remember mine.

Let's see, I think it's...

Rirì. - Rirì, huh?

Do you know where she lives? - No.

Dorsoduro? - You're asking me?

Dorsoduro... Sant'Angelo... Campo Santa Margherita...

I don't really know. - Okay, thanks.

Did you happen to photograph her face too? - No, she wouldn't let me.

Her ass, but not her face, eh? - I told you... - Right, she's strange.

Listen, do you know a girl called Rirì? - No.

Ask the professor, past the bridge. - This way? - He's sitting there.

Excuse me, professor, I'm told you know a girl called Rirì.

Rirì! - Yes, Rirì.

I loved her, y'know? And I still do.

Beautiful!

Beautiful, beautiful!

Why do you ask?

I'm a photographer, I know she poses for photographers.

Oh, yes, yes, also...

Are you feeling sick? I didn't grasp...

I meant to say she had a lovely ass.

Oh, that's it, yeah...

She was the favorite model of that famous French painter...

French painter? Who can that be? French...

Renoir!

Re... Renoir?

Later, in 1924, she became the lover of that famous and great poet...

Who? D'Annunzio?

What D'Annunzio!

Pa...

Pascoli? - That's it! Giovanni Pascoli!

Pascoli... another century. Take care of yourself, professor!

I've got my scarf here.

Listen... I'm told you know Rirì.

Sure I do! Rirì was here just now. Rirì!

Here I am! Tell me!

It's not her... thanks.

Master, please, you meet so many people. Have you ever met a girl named Rirì?

Rirì? Describe her.

Like that, approximately? - As you prefer.

Blonde, high forehead... - Her features! Give me her somatic traits!

Somatic traits...

An oval, how can I say...

Noble?

Yes. Light eyes...

Liquid?

Liquid. Pronounced lips, childish.

Available?

Yes, but childish.

What is it?

Voilà!

But... Rirì is like that?

Ah, I don't know! I drew the person you described.

I was an auxiliary cop. I used to draw identikits.

Fifty thousand.

You were right to quit the police.

Do you know her? Her name's Rirì.

Asking questions is too easy, the cost of living isn't.

Excuse me... I don't get it. - You don't get it?

Look, I'm a full-blooded Venetian, ready to snoop everywhere.

A snitch, even, but venal, yes.

Fifty thousand?

Don't utter figures!

Put the money in my pocket and jump in.

Where are we going?

Keep down! I don't even know you're aboard!

Don't look!

Hey, man, we're nearly there.

What? - We arrived.

Don't look. Just pretend.

Pretend what?

Pretend to pretend, okay?

The one you seek lives here. A nice piece of woman!

I've met her often right here.

But I don't know her, and I don't know you either, okay? And now jump off the boat.

Yes. - Careful not to fall in the water.

One, two, three, now!

Where the fuck...

What's wrong? - Nothing, just looking. Can't I?

The one knows her, the other one too, everyone knows her, and no one's seen her.

"What the Emperor Claudius had to bear.

As soon as he fell asleep, his wife would put on a disguise and leave.

Hiding her black hair under a blonde wig,

she would go to a brothel and give her body for money

by naming herself Licisca.

Naming herself Licisca.

Let me through! - Can't you see I'm the Doge?

The authority that watches over the peace and slumber of this city!

You've never seen a Doge? - No. In Rome we have night watchmen.

Ignorant stranger!

A rum punch, please.

Yes, sir.

These too.

Okay.

But it... It can't be!

Ah! The Roman who's looking for me.

Pardon me?

What do you want?

Are you Riri?

So what?

I had your name by the photographer Pireddu, great friend of mine.

That pig !?

Indeed we had an argument.

Let's go.

Your place or mine? - Huh? I wouldn't know...

Miss Rirì, you've ever been photographed by Pireddu?

No, I don't like to be photographed. I'm ashamed.

So, that picture from the back, nude, is not you?

Ah, nude, maybe! I feel much more at ease.

And I come out better too. - Well, yes...

I believe it.

Miss? Miss Rirì?

I'm here. - By chance, you don't have a sister, maybe a twin,

that you may not know of for obscure family reasons?

Everything may be, in life. - Well, may be yes or may be not?

Why, I look like her?

Sorry?

Do I look like someone?

Vaguely, just barely.

Men always look for a likeness.

Yeah, that's...

Silvestro?

Silvestro!

Honey?

But what do you do there like an idiot? Come on up, no?

But Silvestro, what will he say?

Come on, I need the key, baby.

Mummy's darling.

If I didn't do this way I'd keep losing it.

Very ingenious.

So? What's it going to be? Are you coming in or not?

I don't want to bother you. You have work to do.

This is my work!

Oh, yes?

Well, then, I don't know... What do I do? You tell me.

Shall I tell you? - Yes.

Fuck off!

Unbelievable!

Laura has a double.

What a relief!

I have to pay for my punch and the cigarettes.

And some sweets. What do you suggest? - Our dovelets.

Are they good? - You bet! It's our exclusive speciality.

That's why I don't know them. - No one else makes them in Venice. How many?

One, two trays? - No, one is enough. - Here you go.

Thanks.

Laura?

Laura? - Hi Dad! - And mum?

When I saw her, she was going to work. - Oh, good. Thanks.

But, dad! Don't I get a hello?

Sorry, Beatrice, I thought you were in Padua. When did you arrive?

This morning. Mom said you'd separated.

Separated? No, she always overdoes it.

She's depressed, eh? - No, indeed, she's fine. - Is that so?

You look strange, though. - Why, what's wrong? - Well...

Ah, sorry!

And who are you? - Paolo. - He's a friend, he accompanied me. - Good Boy.

I hope you'll stay. Tomorrow we're invited to a costume party, very important.

No, dad, we have to go back to Padua. Aunt is alone, and Paolo's got an exam.

But I'll need a haircut first. - Then leave early.

Good! What are they?

Honey "dovelets". Only one makes them in Venice. Every so often...

That's mum. - Oh, Beatrice, don't say anything.

Hello mum. - Good morning. - Hello guys.

Mum, who invited you to the costume party? - What party?

Oh, yes, Count Bardolin.

What costume will you wear?

I don't know. I don't even know if I'm going.

Rather, I want to talk to you a bit.

Tell the aunt that next year you'll go to school in Venice. So I can see you more.

Ah, you're still here? Weren't you gone?

If you agree, I'm back to stay.

The experiment's over.

What is it? Aren't you glad?

No. It's that your change seems rather sudden.

Sudden? Yes, so what? It's not just a brief moment that in which all events end?

The foretopman of Columbus' caravel shouts: "Land ahoy!",

and at that very moment the Middle Ages end.

If he didn't read it somewhere, Dad's really changed.

Dad's been thinking.

Something happened that made me open my eyes.

Viva Venice. Another Middle Ages ended today.

What was it that happened?

But you know that there's a...

Where did you get them? - Why do you ask?

You mind?

They're the same.

So? You have the exclusive?

I got them in a pastry shop.

Why are you staring at me? - The fish soup gets cold.

Sorry, I forgot something. - What?

Go ahead and eat.

I'll be right back.

Sandro! What did you forget? - I'll tell you later!

What's got into him?

Mum. Where are you going?

Let's eat. - I'm not hungry.

I'll be in the bookstore.

If your father gets back, don't call me.

Eighteen minutes.

Miss Riri?

Silvestro?

Nice kitty! Is Miss Riri in? Silvestro?

Come here!

Would you give me the key, please? Silvestro?

Who's bothering my cat?

Ah, the Roman. Changed your mind?

You have no idea the joy that gives me your apparition.

But I can't let you in now. It's lunchtime.

It doesn't matter.

Seeing you was enough.

Really? - Yes! I just wanted to see you.

What's wrong?

You just came back to see me?

Yes, but don't worry.

That's sweet!

And... I'm glad. Thank you.

Won't you come in? - No, sorry, they're waiting for me.

Just a glass of wine? It's my birthday.

Drinking by yourself brings bad luck. - But...

Miss?

Come in.

Thank you. If you'd let me use the phone?

But I don't have a phone. - Darn!

At least I'd let them know.

I was frying some fish. - You too fish... That's nice.

The bottles are there. Open the one you like.

Yes...

I like cooking very much, and I never have time.

I'll be fast, okay?

Why are you staring so thoughtful?

You're still thinking of the resemblance?

Who spoke of resemblance?

You asked me if I have a twin sister. - Ah, Yes! No...

Indeed, you're nothing like her.

Do you like fish? - Yes, a lot.

Thank you. - And spring onions? - Much less.

But without an onion, the fish becomes tasteless.

Yeah... I hadn't grasped the double meaning.

Oh, the onion means... Ah, the glasses!

I got them here, always ready!

Allow me.

It couldn't resist your charms.

It exploded... There you go.

Thank you. - Wish me a happy birthday.

Happy birthday, Rirì.

Thank you. - You're welcome. Ah, yes...

It's good! What is it? Bortolomeo... - Help me.

Right away.

Voilà. - Thanks.

Maybe because you made it, but it's delicious. Even without the onion.

A courteous Roman. I didn't think there were any.

What now? Shall I thank you or take offence?

"Or take offence..."

Just to see me... You are a fine person, y'know?

Really! A lord...

Eat some more, or else I'll have the trots! - No, thanks, I've yet to lunch.

Fish is the best thing. - True.

That's why Jesus multiplied it.

Yes, maybe.

I'd like to try one with lemon. Can I?

Sure! It's here for this.

Open up.

Good! Well, with lemon... - Some more. - No, thanks. - More!

No! Not in my eye, for fuck's sake! Oh, sorry!

No, please, my fault. - As you see, I'm not so refined.

Don't worry! It disinfects your eyes and makes them nicer.

That's for sure. But it burns. Is that the bathroom?

Why? Let me see. - It's nothing.

Let me see! - I said it's nothing.

Want some eyedrops? - Here, look!

That scared you, eh?

How do you do that? - With squeezed lemon. It's called "oyster eye".

Let me see again!

Yeah?

Careful, don't rile me or...

No, you're scaring me! Holy shit!

What happened?

I banged. Look if it's bleeding. - Darn it!

No, it's a small scratch. One to one. So now we're quits.

What a jerk!

Well, of course! You've got fruit boxes for a sideboard!

Don't make me laugh, I'm wetting myself! - Like a lady!

No, that's the good one. That's why I couldn't see you.

My stomach!

You got a nice buffet. Where do you get your furniture, at the general markets?

Oh God! Oh God!

Oh God!

I haven't laughed like this is years.

Oh God, my mascara is melting!

Oh, well...

We had a few laughs.

Does it hurt?

Don't think about it.

Laura!

What did you call me?

Me?

I didn't call you anything.

I...

I...

Well, you've been real nice. Thanks for the company.

All the best.

You taste of fish.

And you of onions.

Sorry, it must be my stomach. - No. It's the pigeons.

Four thirty!

You fell asleep as soon as we'd made love. It seemed a shame to wake you up.

You know that... I haven't felt so good in months?

How good? - Very good.

Indeed, I believe that I've never been so good.

Rirì, why are you crying?

Won't you tell me? - I don't know.

If i knew, I wouldn't be crying.

Maybe because it's sunset.

That nostalgic hour often does it.

It gets to touch your heart. Eh, Rirì?

Maybe because it's you who resembles another person.

Me? Who?

Someone I was crazy about. A Steward. - An American?

No, from Bassano. He was a steward on Alitalia.

He moved to Canada. Or is it Cannada?

I don't know, it often changes. Say it as you like.

And here you are, looking like him.

I guess life is all a likeness.

Good.

Again.

Wait, come here. I want to try something.

What? - Guess.

Again? - You guessed!

Bye. Will I see you again?

Rirì, there's so much I want to say, but...

But it's hard to say. - You don't know whether to pay me?

Also.

Pay me, so you won't owe me.

You're offended? - Then don't pay me.

No. Maybe later you'll think that I took advantage.

So then pay me. - Maybe it's better.

Fried fish...

bread, cover charge and wine...

with love on the side: 100,000 lire. You want a receipt?

There you go. Now, I'm offended. - You're quite complicated!

Shall I decide for you? - Yes, you do that.

Fuck off!

But, still here? Didn't you leave?

The door!

Hi, Laura.

I wanted to tell you...

that I'm back. I'm back for good.

You said so also yesterday, then you disappeared.

I know it may sound strange, but I've wanted to think carefully, like we agreed.

I had to think.

He's a slow thinker, poor fellow.

It's all clear now. It's all clear and I'm cured.

Will you forgive me? - No.

Laura.

I want to come home.

What do you mean "cured"?

I want to start a new life.

I can't go on doing nothing.

And since I want to be near you, it means that I'll learn this craft.

Heaven help us!

I'm sure I can perfectly make it on my own.

What's my lord alluding to?

If you're thinking of firing me, I've bad news for you.

You owe me 75 years of severance pay!

Giovanni! The Tubingen Code. - I'll get it! Where is it?

On the top shelf, up there. - It's also written on it.

He'll never find it.

Which one is it? - That one. - Yes.

Ouch! - Oh, sorry Laura! Are you hurt?

No, it's nothing.

But I could have done without. - Darn!

I did say not to give him tasks.

Luckily they didn't break. - Let me see.

Nothing, it's just a scratch.

Why are you so worried? Is it serious?

When did you do this?

What do you mean? Are you mad?

A bit of fresh water, Miss. I'll get it.

Don't fret. Bring me the books, Giovanni.

He can do it! I've been fired.

But you'll have to sell the store to pay me the arrears.

I've got the union's tables updated

from the period of the early union leaders of the XIX century to date!

And if that were not enough, I'll turn to the unions,

where I have a friend who's also so tough with those who...

Sandro?

Where's he gone? - He's gone.

Let's hope for good.

Listen! Walking from S. Maria Formosa, where I got in, to Sant'Angelo,

how long does it take?

Depending on your step, a half an hour.

Is there a shortcut?

Yes, this one, the motorboat.

Then step on it!

And if they fine me? - I'll pay for it.

And if you do some damage? - I'll pay, don't worry.

And if they take away my license? - You take it in the ass! Go!

10 minutes!

Faster than that...

Roman! - Rirì.

I've got to talk to you. - I can't let you in.

Why? - There's a client. Send him away, I'll pay. - I can't.

It's not polite, it's not professional.

I'll tell him myself. - I said I can't.

Why? Who's he?

He's crying. He says I'm so like his mother.

So let me talk to him.

Rirì!

Make it just like the broken one, or that pest will raise hell. - Don't worry.

Look at the model. - Certainly.

A nice glass of warm wine.

If you're convinced that this young lady has nothing to do with your wife,

why are you so glum? - I don't know!

You think it's easy to know?

It's obvious.

You're in love with Fifì. - Rirì.

However, you're wrong. - I say you're in love!

And I say no! You know better than me?

Okay...

You say...

You say that Rirì and your wife look alike.

No! I...

I didn't say they look alike. I said they're the same, identical, two peas in a pod!

In my opinion it's just a vague resemblance.

Again!

Well, yes. You've made up the rest.

What do you mean? - You...

You've created an identity between your wife and this Miss Fifì. - Rirì.

An expert in mercenary love who made you overcome your pitiful sexual block.

"Created an identity"?

Yes!

In difficult times...

only the imagination

can help you live.

A hallucination.

Yes, let's say... a hallucination.

And, tell me... this hallucination...

how long can it last?

Usually...

the very awareness of its motivations... - Yes...

...makes it disappear.

I didn't get it, sorry. Come again?

You see... It's like a secret. - Yes...

When it's revealed...

Poof!

Nothing's left.

Poof!

In psychopathology, knowledge is the cure.

Poof! And Rirì disappears.

Do you mind?

Yes, I mind!

Then that's because you're in love with Fifì, or Rirì, or whatever the hell her name is!

How's the glass coming? - Good. - Make a couple, so she can choose.

Sure, as you wish.

We were saying...

He's disappeared too.

Rirì!

Oh! Sorry, ma'am. - Scoundrel!

God, what a scare!

Rirì?

Rirì?

Silvestro. Come here.

Nice kitty.

Where's Rirì gone?

What's that? A note?

And you brought it to me? Thank you, you're nice.

"Miss Riri informs her friends that she ceases her activity for reasons of love.

P. S: Dear Roman...

maybe I'll join your look alike in Cannada.

Good luck to you both. Rirì."

Go fuck off!

Laura?

Laura?

Laura?

Laura?

Laura!

Laura.

Who is it? - 'Evening.

Laura?

Laura? - Miss Laura is not here. - And you, how come you're here?

"We" are working, there's the new quarterly catalog.

You're amazed because you're not used to work.

Miss Laura said that, if by an unfortunate chance you returned home,

I was to give you this letter. Here.

"Dear Sandro, being tired more of your homecomings than of your goings...

now I'm the one who's leaving."

"Giovanni knows where to let me know of your intentions."

"Farewell, Laura." - In Italian she always had high marks.

And where will you tell her my intentions? - You know it too.

I don't. - Yes, at Count Bardolin's. It's Mardi Gras.

Oh, right! - Costume is compulsory.

A costume? - The party has a theme: "The long night of '45."

Wretches, bums and slackers of the time.

But maybe they'll let you in as you are. Yes.

Giovanni, today you gotta thank God you're 200 years old.

Are you asking for a scuffle?

If only I were 20 years younger... - You'd be 180. Still too old for a scuffle.

Anyway, I'm ready when you are. - Good! Send me your seconds.

I'll sue you for slander! I'm only 85.

You knocked a few off!

Roman... ignoramus!

Troglodyte!

Chauffeur!

How could Miss Laura fall for someone who stinks of gasoline and wrenches?

She was so young, poor thing, that she had no capacity for discernment.

That guy is a dishonor, a shame to southern Italy!

An insult to the memory of Bruno Giordano, Campanella, Capuana,

De Roberto, Di Giacomo, Martoglio, Pitrè, Serao...

Verga and... and Vico as well.

In index order, so none of you gets offended!

Oh, Virgin Mary! Who are you?

What's the address for Bardolin's party? - Palazzo Bardolin.

Okay, but where is it?

I used to know old Gaspare well, when I was young.

We respected each other. - I'm glad. Where is it?

You'd better take the short. Do the short, OK?

I will, but tell me where! What's this short?

Are you kidding? You don't know the Papadopoli shortcut? - Obviously not!

Oh, mother! What an oddball this guy is!

And a ballbuster, too!

I got it: you're dressed as a veteran. - You're sharp, aren't you?

I couldn't remember, because I was too old at the time.

Don't tell me you didn't know this shortcut. - I said no! There he goes again...

But, your wife never told you anything?

My wife?

Careful, here you have to be agile! Follow me and don't be afraid.

Where the fuck did you lead me?

This is the Papadopoli shortcut. - Go on alone now. I'm going back.

I'm ashamed to be seen with someone like you!

At the end there's a spiral staircase. Go down

and you're exactly at Palazzo Bardolin.

Pardon.

Please, where's Palazzo Bardolin? - This is it. - This is...

But this is where Rirì lives.

Three minutes!

With us tonight we have also General Mark Clark.

Colonel Fuletti.

And many others whose name escapes me. There's also a lot of artists.

I see the great Totò!

And down there, Macario's girls!

Excuse me, handsome young soldier. - Sure... - Thanks.

So, let's see, let's see...

This is the Sciuscià, the famous Neapolitan urchin!

And these are the famous "signorine", dispensers of love to delight the liberators!

And here's to you Miss Italy!

Highly succeeded the pretty black-marketeer.

American cigarettes? Loose? A package?

No, thanks, I have them. - I also change dollars. Lighters.

"My dear friend" Sandro! My sweet Italian little soldier.

Come into the arms of Uncle Sam, without whom you'd be just a small shit. - Thanks.

Have you seen my wife? - She's the prettiest floozy of the soirée!

Floozy? - Yes, floozy, signorina. You recall the signorine for the US army?

How's she dressed? - As a charming period little whore with the 5th Army.

If I hadn't other tastes I'd give it a try.

General, I want to introduce you to a charming Lieutenant...

Hello!

Hello!

You here too?

What?

Are you here?

Yeah.

And you?

Me too!

I can't hear you. - Me too! - I can see that.

Well...

Grub's up! Get to the mess hall.

Jolly good! Get your cans.

What will they serve? Meat and vegetables? - Maybe a pea soup.

Great! That's what we needed, I'm starving.

Look at these scroungers! - Watch out, gentlemen!

What is it? Ah, thanks.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Dear! See how nice? You like?

Very much. - Can I help you?

No, thanks.

What's going on? - Help!

Have no fear! The air raid warning! Go down to the shelter, with calm!

They're the flying fortresses, the famous American bombers.

Countess, may I rape you? - What ideas! - Let's take advantage of the dark.

Let's go!

Count Bardolin, my congratulations. It's ingenious!

How did you get the idea of sounds and lights?

Hush! Radio London.

I used to listen to it.

Do you know why they chose the four notes from Beethoven?

They stand for "V" for victory in Morse Code: dot, dot, dot, line.

Carlo?

I'm here, mom.

Where?

Turn on the light. - That's enough now.

Don't get caught with your hands in the dress of your best friend's wife!

If you seek the young lady, she's gone.

Where did she go?

Poof!

Don't insist! I said I'm not coming.

Come on! - I'm not coming.

Laura! - The guy's crazy! - Rirì!

Where you going? The fun is starting now!

I want to go to sleep, okay?

Then come and sleep with me. - Leave me alone, damn! What a nuisance!

I could be your mommy.

Look how they treat their moms nowadays. Today's youngsters!

Hey! Who swiped my pumpkin? I'd put it here...

What's that stuff? - Roast pumpkin.

Is it good?

I like it.

But who are you?

Why? Who could I be?

One who looks like another.

Or you could be just the other one... who looks like you.

Does it really matter?

No.

But if I could only tell...

Then I'll tell you the truth. I know there's another woman.

Then tell me who you are. - No, first you must make a decision.

Yes. Which?

Either me... or the other.

Wait!

I'm going with you.

English subs by edam@cinematik June 2015