Original subtitles

DEDICATED TO SERGIO CITTI

THE INTELLECTUAL COURAGE OF TRUTH AND POLITICS

ARE TWO IRRECONCIABLE MATTERS IN ITALY.

(PIER PAOLO PASOLINI)

The great Communist gains of June 15

can be summed up in these simple facts:

11 million votes went to the Italian Communist Party

out of a possible 34.5 million.

From 27% to 32.5%.

One Italian in three voted Communist on June 15.

Until now the Communist votes were slightly more than one in four,

so a great step forward.

Enrico Berlinguer underlined from the outset, rightly,

that this was the greatest Communist election success

from Liberation to the present day, so in 30 years.

Italians have said clearly they want a change,

they've said clearly the direction they want to change in.

And they won't turn back.

Paolo, you already paid me.

Are you losing it?

Take this as well.

You really like treating me like a whore.

What are you saying, Pino? You know well I don't think that.

Listen, but, since you're always talking about it,

when will you let me do some acting?

I told you, if I'd met you earlier,

you'd already be in my film.

-There were so many parts for you. -Yeah, sure.

You haven't finished this film, so give me a part, no? What changes!

-I'm editing it, it's finished. -Yeah…

I think you're takin' the piss. Take me home, go on.

Mom, hey?

What are you doing here?

Come on, let's go to bed.

Come on.

There you go.

Here.

Give me that, come on.

Come on.

That's it.

There, you okay? Eh?

Good night.

Hey, guys, we blew 'em away!

No way could we die Christian Demo…

-Good morning, Pier Paolo. -Good morning, dear.

Right, guys, have you seen the material?

-Yeah, we watched it all. -Just once, though.

Well? What did you think of it?

Well, it's a powerful film, very powerful.

Is the title definite?

For me the title's Salò,

even if it's still The 120 Days of Sodom by de Sade.

So, in the end, the title will be Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom.

Listen, I noticed there's a party scene.

You're there dancing as well,

-with the whole crew, I think. -Yes.

But I don't understand where you want it.

What is it, the finale of the film?

Well, it could be the finale.

But I'd like the film to end with a whole load of red flags.

Yes, I know what you're thinking,

I haven't filmed these red flags yet, obviously,

if need be we can superimpose them.

Is that the right term?

You want red flags at a party full of Fascists?

No, I'm just trying to understand.

Yeah, I know. They'll say I'm being provocative. But so what?

I'm used to it, I really don't care.

In a square full of young people

nobody can tell a worker from a student,

a Fascist from an anti-Fascist.

This is what was possible in 1968.

Pier Paolo.

God, this place is a dump now.

Bugger it, this bloody dog's always here! Amede', will you get rid of it?

We're playing for money here, come on!

Now, my dear peasant,

thanks to the dog's bollocks you got an easy 15.

Thirty points, you had 95,

-125 and you win. -Exactly.

-But there's a problem. -What?

-You're a dick, everyone knows it. -Yeah?

I'll put 10,000 lire down, give us a laugh.

Again? He does this deliberately, so I look at the money and miss.

Move that money, you prick!

If you're losing it for 10,000, you're a thoroughbred peasant!

He's right, you'll never win.

Move, I'm gonna really hit this.

I wouldn't want you to end up with three balls.

Three balls would be handy for going out with your sister,

if they're enough for her.

Anto', you like them with a moustache!

Woman with whiskers, worth a risk for.

What are you looking at her fur for? Have you checked her tits?

-Has she got three of them as well? -Come on, don't piss him off!

Say whatever the fuck you like,

I don't give a monkey's. We'll talk later.

Quiet, he's concentrating!

Looks to me like he's shitting himself.

There! The champion of the world!

Ah, loser, careful with the peasants, they'll rip you a new one.

Give me the money.

-Guys, you want a game? -No, we're broke.

Borrow some from Pino, he's made a bit, no?

I've made money? What are you saying?

Are you not the guy with the rich boyfriend?

-Get away. What are you saying? -Guys,

I know Pasolini better than you. Back in my day it was 1,000 lire.

But he'll be paying you 20,000. Or am I wrong? Mmm?

Oi, who the fuck are you? Are you looking for trouble?

What's he want? Does he want to beat me up?

Should I be shitting myself? Sit down, son!

Prince, come and see what the three little dicks want.

Well, guys? What do we wanna do, eh?

Nothing, nothing. Nothing happened. Oh, chill out.

Having made love, the kids go back home,

but they all live in the same neighborhood.

One of them decided to throw a bomb in Stazione Termini,

it's unclear whether he's an anarchist or a Fascist.

The others, drunk, and inspired by similar monsters

to those that devoured their contemporaries, follow him.

The bomb exploded, about a hundred people are killed,

their bodies tossed around and piled up

in a sea of blood that flows among the torn flesh,

benches and platforms.

What amazes me most of all are the Communists.

I've fought Communists all my life,

but I always respected them.

Even when with the partisans we killed each other,

we tore at each other…

Even in the times of the glorious and tragic Republic of Salò.

You know why? Because we believed, and they believed.

It's not like that now,

now the Communists have betrayed the Soviet Union

and handed themselves over totally to American imperialism.

Which is why I tell you that the Communists,

that race of scum,

ready to move from the October Revolution to the cult of Coca-Cola,

today, like always,

today, more than ever, are our enemies.

Camerati… Believe! Obey! Fight!

-These pieces of shit! -When can we go?

It's called Questo è Cefis. This is Cefis.

It reads like a police report,

an endless list of Cefis' crimes,

of the companies he heads,

and the people he uses like puppets.

Yes, it's like a police report, I told you.

It's all documented:

names and surnames, dates, political links,

sums of money down to the last lira.

Eugenio Cefis, President of Montedison,

is becoming the secret master of the country.

It seems incredible, but that's how it is.

These ex-partisan Catholic sons of bitches,

have created, along with the ex-Fascists

and with the blessing of the Christian Democrats,

a system of power worse than any dictatorship

and they were probably already thinking

of creating all this during the war of liberation.

The book immediately disappeared from the bookshops,

and even from the National Library. All I have is a photocopy.

As far as I know nobody is investigating.

And it's very strange,

because this book's like a long anonymous letter,

it's pure information, it's what a shark would do.

In fact, the author directly addresses the authorities.

The only thing I know

is that this Giorgio Steimetz doesn't exist.

It's the pseudonym of someone who knows all about Cefis.

You don't know what I'd give to meet him, Alberto!

I've been looking for him everywhere.

No, I don't even know what I'm writing.

I'm just going on, as though I were possessed by a demon.

I've already written over 400 pages,

and I could reach 2,000, maybe even more.

At some point I'm going to need your help, Alberto.

For now I can tell you the title, Petrolio.

-So when are you doing this film? -Soon.

And what's your part?

-Twelve, mark it. What's the score? -Ninety.

Ninety. I gave you a 50-point start,

and you've blown it, you want another 20?

You made me mess up, get that ball.

-You want the 20 points? -What points? Get out of here!

So the film? What are you doing?

I play a kid.

What did you wanna be, an old woman? I mean, what's it about?

-It's a Western. -A Western?

D'you get to shoot as well?

Of course, or what kind of Western would it be?

With all the shit you shoot, there'll be a slaughter of the Indians!

-D'you not believe me? -Look, Pasolini,

he's spun this shit about making a film to every boy in Rome!

You're the only idiot that still believes it.

He who laughs last laughs loudest.

Are you wanking that cue or taking a shot?

You're distracting me.

-You do it every time! What the fuck! -I haven't got time to waste.

Can you add six points, please? Thank you.

-Will I, Pi'? -Of course you will, add them!

Six points for me, fair and square.

Look who's here!

Pa', remember me? Antonio, Pinna Antonio.

-Flat three. -Of course I remember.

-How are you, Antonio? -It's been a long time, eh?

-Susanna? -My mother's fine, thank you.

Does she still make that dessert… what was it, "Gubbana?"

Yeah. "Gubana", just one B.

God, it was good, guys!

Superb, never ate anything like it, amazing!

You're looking good, Antonio, still looking young.

-You don't work, you don't age. -You unemployed?

I do odd jobs, I can't complain.

You still playing football?

Why, you want a game?

Get him!

Beautiful! Go!

No!

There. How the fuck can you play on this surface?

The surface isn't the problem, it's this dick who won't let us on.

Paolo, get those two asses off, no?

-Let us on, we'll get us back in it! -Behave.

Antonio, calm down. I'll let you play, eh?

I'll let you play, but not now, later.

-We're meant to enjoy this, no? -No, I don't enjoy losing.

-Neither do I. -Doesn't look like it. On you go.

-Come on, in the middle. -Forget it.

There's always something. I'm going for a fag.

You coming or what?

How come we're doing fuck all now?

Has something happened, is there a problem?

-Are you broke? -No, I've got some money,

but nothing's happening here now.

I mean, nothing, not a robbery, not a kidnap… Is that possible?

We're about to make a leap in quality. We've got new partners.

Important people,

and we can't look like chicken thieves any more.

-We have to aim high as well. -High? How high?

Who knows?

High, high, high.

-There's no limits practically. -Really?

Fuck! I'd realized something, though, eh.

I didn't say anything 'cos I mind my own business, but I'm not asleep.

I'd clocked you were in with the Parioli crowd,

and they like a good snort, don't they? Eh?

Just as well you mind your own business!

Oh, I said, it's just what I was thinking.

-I didn't ask you anything. -Yeah, so mind your own business.

Don't forget about me, I'm here, eh?

Where are you gonna find a driver like me?

Look at that!

Se', this isn't a car, it's a missile.

It's a laser beam, bloody hell!

-Whose is it? -Pasolini's.

You know what I'd do with this? Lower the head, change the carbs

and then it'll fly. Better than a Ferrari.

Look at those lines!

It's like a woman, I'd fuck it, it's so beautiful!.

-So steal it! -Oh, quit it!

-Who are these for? -Me, put them down.

Pa', what is this Technicolor?

I go past there all the time. It's where they make films, no?

Not exactly. It's for developing and printing,

it's where they develop and print the film.

-What's this film you're doing called? -Salò.

What's that mean?

Salò's a small republic the Fascists invented at the end of the war.

They wanted to make it the capital of Italy!

-Salò? -Yeah, Salò.

That's what it's called? Bloody horrible name!

-Why? -Eh, it says nothing.

It's too short, it makes me think of comò, like a chest of drawers.

That's the name of a city as well.

-Comò? -No, Como.

-Really? -Yes.

So it is, you're right!

So you see? He hasn't won a thing.

Eh, yeah, but next year…

-Remember they won… -Look who's here.

Be good, the bastard even brought him home!

-Okay, see you. -You call me like usual, eh?

-Yeah, you mustn't call me. -No, all right.

Bye, Pa'. Oi! What did you do?

-What is it? -You've got a flat.

-Oh, God! -You got a spare?

-I'll sort it. -Yeah, it's all in the boot.

Can you do it?

No, they've really pissed me off now!

Pino, what are you doing? Are you not ashamed?

What? Are you drunk?

No, you are, turning up at home with this poof!

Get out of here, both of you!

No, he needs to get out of here.

He's nearly finished, don't worry, I'm going.

I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to this dickhead of our friend!

-You've both pissed us off! -Fuck off!

Maria, come and see!

Your son's here with that poof Pasolini!

They act big! They haven't got an ounce of shame!

Pino, hurry up and get in!

Look what the fuck you've done to me, you bastard!

Don't you dare call me after making me look like such a dick!

Fuck off, again!

Don't be coming round here again! Suck on this!

The massacres therefore were always the work of the same people.

First there was the bomb in Piazza Fontana,

blamed on left-wing extremists.

Then the Brescia and Italicus massacres,

when they accused the Fascists, trying as fast as they could

to regain the anti-fascist virginity they needed.

-Sorry. -Don't worry.

Listen, Pier Paolo, there's a man on the phone.

I'm not sure what his name is, could it be Steimetz?

Steimetz? Giorgio Steimetz?

I think so. Will I say you're not in?

No, no, I'll speak to him. I'll take it here.

Yes, hello?

Speaking. What a wonderful surprise.

I don't know who told you, but yes.

I'd really like to meet you.

Yes.

Yes, I read your book and I'd like to discuss it.

See you there.

I don't have your book.

Or rather I have a photocopy. If you could give me a copy,

with your autograph maybe, I'd be really delighted.

I'm sorry, I don't even have one.

-It sold out completely? -Apparently, yes.

I imagine that what you write

with such impressive meticulousness is all true.

Otherwise Cefis would have reported you for libel.

-And you weren't reported? -No.

Not as far as I know.

Nor was Cefis, unlike I'm mistaken.

Ah, I don't know that, you'd have to ask him.

Why have you got it in for Cefis so much?

Listen, I don't mean to be rude, but I wrote what I had to say.

Why are you so interested in my book?

Because I'm working on the Cefis story as well.

For me Cefis is the perfect demon of the Italy of today.

And so you can imagine how greedily

I read your book.

What are you writing, exactly? A novel? Are you making a film?

I've written hundreds of pages, but I can't say if it's a novel,

or an essay or I don't know what.

It's like a nightmare that slowly materializes.

And I haven't the faintest idea what it'll become.

Do you plan to publish it?

Not for now.

Also because if I do,

it won't be winning any literary prizes.

If and when this book comes out, I want it to cause an earthquake.

Don't kid yourself!

You think so?

Well, yes,

if your book, which is a list of crimes,

didn't attract the attention of the authorities,

Cefis' power is a lot more extensive than I can imagine.

No?

I'm sorry, but beyond what I wrote, I know nothing about Cefis.

Who told you all those things?

Someone who evidently had an interest in telling me them.

You don't want to tell me any more?

No. What would be the point?

Me, you, everyone else in this country, we're dwarves.

No disrespect, obviously.

Well, I'm not offended, I've always been on the dwarves' side.

I know.

You're a Communist, I'm not. I'm from another world.

I don't think we've anything else to say to each other. Goodbye.

Was it Elvio Fachinelli who gave you my number?

Why ask if you already know?

Because I spoke to him last night. And it wasn't him.

-Who gave you my number? -It was in the phone book.

I've been ex-directory for years.

I've been using the same directory for years.

-I'm sorry, I have to go. Goodbye. -I'd like to see you again, though.

Next Tuesday, maybe.

At the same time, I'll be here.

No, no, don't answer. Come if you can.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

And who are you?

Hello.

-The girl? -My granddaughter.

-You'll be here by chance. -There's no such thing as chance.

-What's our friend up to? -He's writing a book.

-What kind of book? -I don't know.

One of those things he does, intellectual stuff, I imagine.

What did he ask you?

Where I got my information.

-What did you tell him? -What do you think?

I don't think, I asked a question.

-I'm in deep shit here already… -Language!

I'm not likely to tell him anything. Can I go now?

Can you play hide-and-seek?

I tried, but it seems I'm not very good at it,

I always get caught, right away.

Camerati, as you'll see,

this is an extremely delicate operation

and also quite sophisticated.

As regards the action, I'd prefer the camerata to describe it.

Do you know what 'self-inflicted wounding' is?

Self-inflicted wounding, in certain circumstances,

can be a lethal weapon.

When you're weak,

and at this moment we are undoubtedly weak,

we might as well make the most of that weakness,

in such a way as to get public opinion on our side.

Do you understand?

Right. Let's get down to the details.

The day after tomorrow the Communists will hold a march

which will pass in front of our university branch

and they won't be able to resist the temptation of setting fire to it.

-Really? -Really, really!

And do you know why?

Because we'll force them to do it.

In this way, we'll turn the situation in our favor.

Is that clear?

Struggle! Hard! Without fear!

Struggle! Hard! Without fear!

Fascists, bourgeoisie…

No to the school of the masters!

No to the school of the masters!

Stop, police! Don't move.

Who are you?

Can you not read? Your superior officer, get lost!

-What the fuck's this? -Rosario, remove this asshole.

-What the fuck, Rosario? -Come on, I'll explain!

No to the school of the masters!

No to the school of the masters!

Death to the Fascists!

Fascists, shame on you! Get back into the sewers!

Pi', you owe me 10,000, I won.

Let me get dressed first.

You in a hurry? I'll pay you, don't worry!

-And my part? -Yours?

We said 8,000 to you and 2,000 to me!

No, we said fuck all! An ice cream would be too much!

What a bastard! Pi', will you give me 2,000?

If I'd won the bet, I would have.

-But I lost 10,000. What d'you want? -Let's go for this ice cream.

Oh, did you know Pasolini's making a film about you?

About us?

Yeah, he's making a film about the Fascists at Salò. Kids like you.

You don't know? Just like you.

-How dare he, the poof? -How do you know?

Have you got a part?

He's just finished it, I wasn't in time.

I didn't even know him.

They're printing it now. Guess where?

Near our place, at Technicolor.

You remember how many times we asked,

"What the fuck do they do at Technicolor?"

That's what they do, they make films!

Who knows how I was sure you'd come?

I decided half an hour ago.

Excuse me if I interrupt.

These two ladies are very dear customers

and they always sit here. Would you mind changing places?

-No, no problem. -Thank you, very kind of you.

Thank you so much, Mr. Pasolini. I've watched all your films.

Thank you.

You see him?

He's quite scandalous.

They're moving.

I'm going to lose them, what will I do?

Listen, I have a proposition for you:

I intend to use some passages from your book in mine.

I'm copying them word for word.

I'm a plagiarist, let's say,

I'm plagiarizing it and I'm doing so shamelessly!

-Don't worry, I can hear them. -Do you know why?

So that when my book comes out, you can sue me for plagiarism.

You know your book vanished so that nobody could investigate

what Cefis was up to.

But if I use some passages without changing them,

I'll give you the chance to sue me.

In that way everyone will find out about your book,

and the authorities will be forced to investigate.

You understand where I'm going here?

Who's to say they won't make your book disappear as well?

If they try, they'll be doing me a favor.

Success is a pain, but it has its positive aspects.

Let's say that unlike you I have a certain notoriety,

and my name is synonymous with scandal.

And I don't think the President of Montedison likes scandals.

You haven't understood who we're dealing with.

Cefis was something more than ambitious,

so he didn't have the weaknesses of the ambitious.

His life, his appearance, his behavior, were gray,

or, to put it better, ascetic.

Probably Cefis wasn't calculating,

but limited himself to simply amassing and building his destiny,

following his nature.

Cefis didn't advance, he accumulated.

He didn't climb, he expanded.

What the fuck do you want? Stop following me!

I don't wanna see you again! You still don't get it? Bugger you!

What are you thinking? It's yours! It fits like a glove.

I know, but how much is it?

Don't worry about the money, we can reach an agreement, no?

-Hi, Remo. -Hey, Alfre'. What do you need?

Six medieval suits of armor, you got that somewhere?

Six medieval suits of armor…

maybe not, but I know someone who might.

-Ah, yeah! Who? -The ironmonger!

What a clown you are! Who are you?

-Who are you, you mean? -Pleasure. I'm Alfredo Lotti.

I make films, I'm a director.

You don't know who you're talking to here.

One of these days he could win you an Oscar… bathroom unit!

You're so funny! A real Roman!

-Your face is simply amazing. I mean it! -What d'you mean?

-Have you ever thought of acting? -Me, acting?

Yeah, I was thinking about it. But if it pays well, why not?

Let's do this, this is my phone number.

Tomorrow, call me, I've a part in mind for you.

I'm preparing a film. Eh?

-Bye, Remo. -Bye, Alfre'.

-I mean it, eh! -I will.

Five thousand, it's a bargain!

-Five thousand? Get out of here! -Relax, I was just trying!

Don't worry, we can haggle a bit.

Se', it's a walk in the park! Dead easy. Franco and Giuseppe.

Move a bit.

-How many are there? -We took all of them.

Does it say "Salò" on them?

We'd to read them as well? We took them all, relax!

Okay, put them there.

Why don't we get a preview of this Pasolini film?

I hate Pasolini's films. You know who I like.

"The people are children, the city's sick.

Others have the duty to care, to educate,

our duty is to repress!

Repression is our vaccination, repression is civilization!"

No, no applause.

No applause. A bit of modesty! Get to work, get to work!

You've broken our balls, though, with Gian Maria Volonté!

-What about Bob De Niro? -Bob De Niro?

Gian Maria blows your Bob De Niro away! What a man, oh!

Look at this.

Sergio, I was wondering,

how much do we want to ask for these film cans?

I need to think about it.

Listen, Se', we haven't said a fucking thing to Pino.

But it was him who put us on to it.

Sooner or later we'll have to tell him.

Don't worry about Pino. Pino's an actor now.

Yeah, an actor! He's the only one who believes that.

He hooked a director, one that will let him work, not like Pasolini.

"As the car

set off along the old road to Ostia,

the man told me he knew a nice place

in front of… No, behind a football pitch.

In fact, at a certain point, the car

started heading the wrong way towards the pitch."

Stop! No! That was wrong.

What does "the wrong way" mean? What's in the script?

"The car went a different way".

-What did I say?! -You said "the wrong way"!

-Is it not the same thing? -No, it's not!

Memorize it!

Actors need to memorize things!

DIRECTOR

What is it they say? "Not the sharpest knife", eh!

All right, let's do another one. Action.

Il prezzo da pagare, Pelosi audition, take five!

Alfredo!

Sergio's here, move!

Coming!

Hi, Sergio.

-How's it going? -How do you think?

A wardrobe could act better! Why are you so interested in this kid?

-I don't get it. -What do you want?

Mind your own fucking business! We like it this way.

Of course, I always do what my producer tells me.

You got a dose?

Later.

-Later? -Don't break my balls. Later.

Fuck, you promised me.

Don't touch me!

Don't touch my hand.

You mustn't touch my hand, all right?

Good boy, good boy.

You want this?

You want this? You want some of this, eh?

It's good. It's good.

Give your uncle a little smile. Here.

You want this?

You're disgusting. You're filthy, filthy!

This is dust, dust like you!

You're disgusting, do you realize?

You're disgusting to God, you're even disgusting to your mother!

You snorting it all? Oh, yeah, you like it.

Come on, show me how you snort it.

Snort it, snort it, snort it! That's it!

You're rank rotten!

You really disgust me, you're rank rotten!

Damn!

What the fuck do you want? Oh!

What are they doing down there?

No, no, nothing, don't worry. I'll deal with it.

What are they doing down there? Come on, go!

You just have to do one thing, snort and go!

One thing, not two, one. Snort and go!

The people I have to work with!

-Guys! -He's being a dick! You're a pain!

Pasolini, what can you tell us? Did they ask for a ransom?

-Did someone steal something? -Do you have any suspects?

Yes, let me speak. I was told an hour ago

that some negatives were stolen from Technicolor,

-including my film Salò. -Can you get it back?

I'm going to the producer now. I can't tell you anything else.

-When will you know? -Any suspects?

This is embarrassing, I don't know. That's enough, thank you.

Pasolini…

They asked for two billion.

The cost of the film, practically.

You're making a very difficult film,

but I'm with you all the way.

For now I've told them that at the most we can give them 50 million.

You're perfectly right,

and 50 million seems too much even.

Certainly, it's a serious blow!

I've already ordered an interpositive.

We can get a new negatives from that,

but we'll lose some scenes, I have to tell you.

Such as?

The party, the party you wanted for the finale.

-With the red flags. -A party?

I don't remember a party in the script.

No, I thought of it while we were filming, but I can do without.

We'll shoot two guys dancing,

and end the film with a glimmer of hope.

Although I hate the word hope.

Ah, ma'am.

-Goodbye. Thank you for coming. -Thank you.

I hope to see you again soon!

See you next time and thank you for everything.

-Thank you. -You're very kind, thank you.

Pa', I met a director who wants me to act.

-And it's not you. -Yeah?

Sure! I'll be signing the contract in a few days, I did an audition.

Ah, how did it go?

Well, it was a bit of a mess. Never mind.

Worse than school! It was a real struggle.

Could you help me a bit?

Yeah, sure, but not today.

You wanna know the part?

I play a boy who kills a poof, just think…

"I reacted by grabbing him by the hair

and kicking him in the genitals.

After the blow, the plank broke in two,

and I kept hitting him with the bit in my hand,

until he fell."

What is this, a confession?

Who are you meant to tell this to?

I told you. I've to play a kid who kills a poof.

But then the police catch me and take me to the station

and then there's nothing to be done. I have to confess or I'm in the shit.

All right, keep going.

"He was on the ground and stayed there when I left with his car.

But I didn't see him when I got there.

I didn't see him. I wouldn't have been so stupid as to drive over him."

Oh, Pa', it's going well with you.

I know it, I couldn't get it.

But this isn't your voice, Pino! This is the police talking.

-I don't get it. -You don't speak like this, Pino!

But it's not me! I'm being an actor.

Yeah, but this isn't credible.

You're saying I can't be an actor?

No! I'm saying you could be an amazing actor, if you be yourself.

But this isn't you.

This is a statement the police have put in your mouth.

You're not confessing, you're saying what the police want.

I get it, it's no good this film, eh?

It's a lot worse than no good, Pino.

Come on, it's late.

It's not that you're jealous 'cos I'm making a film with someone else?

Admit it!

Pier Paolo, there's that man

with the funny name, Steimetz. Do you want to speak to him?

Yes.

Good morning.

I wasn't expecting this.

Of course, you tell me where. The usual place?

Ah, no.

All right.

Wherever you like.

Mattei was killed by the CIA

working with the French Secret Service.

He was a threat to the interests of the oil companies in the Middle East.

His plane was sabotaged by the Mafia, by the family of Stefano Bontate.

It was probably organized by Cefis, but not on his own.

The man who had contacts with the Mafia wasn't Cefis,

but another vice president of ENI, Senator Gaetano Verzotto.

Then at a certain point, inside ENI, Verzotto and Cefis went to war.

Unfortunately in this story there are no good guys.

Where do you get your information? Can you tell me?

Verzotto dictated it to me,

because he wanted to create problems for Cefis.

Result? Cefis is more powerful than ever, while Verzotto had to flee abroad.

You understand now who we're dealing with?

I've understood that for a while, but I don't have the proof, while you do.

No, I don't have anything now, not even my life.

What are you scared of?

Since I wrote the book, I've had the secret service on my back.

They answer to Cefis as well.

To give you an idea of the man's network, I'll tell you something nobody knows yet.

Last year Cefis created a secret Masonic lodge.

The members are politicians from every party, military men,

even big shots from the Vatican.

The lodge is called Propaganda 2, they refer to it as P2.

This information is really precious for me, you know that?

My book will get… it'll get justice for you.

I don't believe in justice any more.

Our country is corrupt, much more corrupt than you might think.

No, look,

there are a lot more clean people than you think in this country!

Don't act the Communist, Pasolini.

We're Italians, we're all children of Don Abbondio.

We're cowards. No, worse, opportunists.

-Can I ask you something? -Of course.

-Are you not scared? -No.

Why not?

My life is no more important than yours or anyone else's.

It's true, you really are mad, you know that?

-I can only wish you good luck. -Thank you.

It was a pleasure.

Same here.

Men like Troya condition whole sectors of Parliament.

They pull the levers in the ministries,

they provide uniforms for a range of stupid but faithful servants.

They could buy a football team

and have it win the championship overnight.

They could mortgage the Sanremo Song Festival,

buy newspaper chains and record companies.

Keep the change, thank you.

Welcome, good evening.

-Good evening. -Sorry I'm late.

My car broke down and I got a taxi.

-Congratulations. -Welcome.

Anto'.

What the fuck are you dressed as? Where are you going?

-The baptism, where else? -There are important people here.

-What's wrong with me? -Everything.

-So you're not letting me in? -No, I'm not!

-Are you mad? -Welcome.

You can take the man out of the slum.

But how d'you get the slum out of the man?

-How? -Who's that?

Don't make me look a dick, shut up!

-Be good, and fuck off. -Can I go there?

That's it, in your corner.

-Good evening. -Congratulations.

Thank you. Good evening, Attorney.

Attorney? He's a loan shark!

Oi, shut up, will you?

You're breaking my balls, shut up!

We're just waiting for you.

-Do you reject Satan? -I do.

Do you reject sin in order to live by the freedom of God's children?

I do.

Is it your will Rosa be baptized

in the faith of the Church which we have all professed with you?

Yes, it is.

Rosa, I baptize you in the name of the Father,

and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Now I need to get another taxi.

What taxi!

How will we get home? By post?

What's that?

That's yours? When did you do it?

-What, your sister? -You're a shit!

That's the car of my dreams!

And I don't give a shit about it, just think!

That's how it always is! Pearls before swine!

There's the Prince.

Where are you going?

I've got an appointment. What, are we married?

What the fuck do I do with this car?

-Take it home. -Come on, stop it!

Don't look a gift horse in the mouth!

-The car's yours, you dick. -Stop it. Tell me what to do.

-What the fuck… -It's in your name.

Come on, Se'! What are you saying?

-Life is beautiful, eh! -Antonio Pinna, that's me, oh!

-Thank you, Se'! -See ya, Anto'!

My goodness, my goodness…

Come here till I give you a good run!

My goodness!

This novel serves little purpose in my life now,

like the novels or poems you write as a young man.

It's not a proclamation, "Hey, mankind, I exist",

but the preamble to a testament.

The testimony to that little knowledge you accumulate

and it's completely different to what you expected or imagined.

Yours, Pier Paolo.

Ah, Graziella.

Photocopy all of this and then take it to Moravia, all right?

Thank you.

We wanted to thank you again

for coming to the baptism.

It was an honor.

A great honor.

Did you like the bonbonnière?

A beautiful gift.

About that problem you mentioned the other time…

I think I understood the message.

We'll deal with that problem.

How?

Our way.

What does "our way" mean?

Your enemies are our enemies,

and we'll deal with the enemies.

Because you have more important things to do.

This is true.

But I want it to be clear we didn't ask you for anything.

Of course. I know, I know.

Come on, love.

-Say goodbye to the gentleman. -Goodbye, sir.

Goodbye, ma'am, and a big hug to the baby.

-From me. -Thank you.

Right Honorable, goodbye.

Panunzio, come here.

-You heard everything? -What will you do?

Me? Nothing. They'll do it all.

-Are they serious? -Did he look like a comedian?

They've gone mad.

Panunzio, the mad can be useful.

They do things we never would.

-He's world famous! -He's been asking for it.

Pi', you got 10,000 to lend me?

How come you're always broke? You already owe me ten, no?

So this'll make 20.

Yeah, and when will I get all this fucking money back?

You haven't got a lira!

You lend me ten, and on Monday I'll bring you 100.

-Is your brother drunk? -No, he means it.

We did a little job and we get paid on Monday, a load of money.

What, will we tell him?

You moron, you already have!

-What did I tell him? -You've got a whelk for a brain!

Oh, what are you guys going on about, eh?

Your pal's film, we've got it.

-Are you going out? -Yes, Mom.

Come here, next to me.

What's this boy called?

Pino.

Tell me about him.

He's innocent, Mom, but not for long.

Why do you say that?

-Because I can feel it. -Are you sure?

Yes, Mom.

You're saying he'll betray you as well?

I think so.

So he doesn't love you?

Only those who love you can betray you.

Let's go back, Pier Paolo.

I beg you! Let's go back.

-It's too late, Mom. -Why?

Because there's no place for me anywhere.

What will I do without you?

You'll always be with me, Mom.

-I don't have your courage. -Oh, no.

You've got much more.

No other woman could have been my mother, remember that.

-I'm scared. -No, no.

Don't be scared, Mom.

Pa', they did it all themselves, eh? I didn't do a thing, do you believe me?

Why wouldn't I believe you?

Two billion! What dickheads!

Only they could have come up with a number like that.

But three million seems fair enough, no?

I mean… Like expenses, that's what you say, isn't it?

The money's under the mat.

Se'! Sergio!

-Who is it? -Franco and Giuseppe, the brothers.

Remember?

You gave me a fright. What the fuck d'you want at this hour of the night?

Come down, we need to talk.

I can't believe this, I really can't.

It's just unbelievable!

Listen, Se', I won't beat about the bush.

We're waiting for billions, but we haven't seen a lira.

And since we did the job, you have to give us the film back.

We'll try and sell it.

We'll get less, but at least we'll get something.

What can I say? You're right.

You did the job.

Now I'll give it all back to you, no problem.

Oh, Se', no hard feelings.

We're broke, we need the money, you understand?

When it comes to money, nobody should kid about.

It's yours, never let it be said.

Oh, what the fuck are you doing? Oh!

Where are you going?

I'm not letting you leave empty-handed! Come here.

I don't want anything, leave me alone!

Come here! You wanted the film?

-Good morning. -Good morning.

-Sorry I'm late. -It's no problem.

Don't worry, it won't take long.

No problem, take your time.

Why "Salò?"

You're asking me why I made Salò?

No, no.

I'd suggest you change the name of your film.

-In France at least. -Why?

Because "Salò" in French sounds like "salaud".

I don't understand. What does it mean in French?

Son of a bitch.

Great! That's perfect.

It's a story about sons of bitches. I'm talking about a bourgeoisie…

I'm talking about a bourgeoisie that uses Fascism to…

to take possession of the people. Totally,

physically, the way…

the consumer… society does.

Do you understand?

-Consumption. -Yes, is that how you say it?

-Consumer society. -Yes.

But, Mr. Pasolini, today the consumer society

allows people to eat, to dress,

to live a better life than in the past.

This is the problem.

Today people are wealthier,

but poverty's not evil.

People are wealthier, but they've no more idea of who they are.

They've no identity, they've no personality.

Do you understand what I mean?

-People have lost their identity. -Exactly.

They're victims of the consumer society.

Exactly.

-So they'd be better off poor? -Exactly.

The Church used to say that.

-Now it's left-wingers like you. -I am left wing.

-So am I. -I know, I know.

So we understand each other. I'm left wing but in favor of progress,

but today progress is represented by fashion,

by wealth, by luxury.

Everything that's superfluous.

And you think this is progress?

I understand the logic, but…

but don't you think it's first necessary that everyone

has healthcare, food, clothes to wear and can go to school…

No, no, no. Wait a moment.

I'm opposed to school.

-You with me? -Opposed to school?

School today is nothing more than an initiation…

into the life of the petite bourgeoisie.

They teach stupid, false,

moralistic things.

Yes, I know, now you'll say I'm not left wing,

but for me primary school

is more than sufficient for a…

How do you say it in French? A worker.

But school is the social elevator!

-It's the fundamental value… -No, listen to me.

The illusion of the workers' children progressing through school

is a crime for me. It's a crime.

You can't say that. School's not a crime, it's a precious asset.

-You discovered the Roman suburbs. -Yes.

You gave a voice to a people who didn't exist.

You gave them an identity and a dignity, and now you abandon them!

-No! -Yes, you're abandoning them.

Why are you abandoning them?

Because they're not pure and naive like when you met them.

-You've changed your opinion. -It's Italy that's changed.

Today there's no difference

any more between

the young bourgeoisie of Parioli

and kids like Accattone.

-Accattone. -Yes.

Young people today…

There's no difference between them,

they no longer have any interior conflict.

They no longer have the possibility

of choosing between good and evil.

And so they've forgotten…

something very important.

You know what? Pity.

-Your vision is very pessimistic. -Yes.

But it's the truth.

It's the truth in Italy.

No, it's the same the world over, not just in Italy.

This is what I think and feel.

I wasn't convinced by this story about the workers' children

-not going to school. -Why not?

Because the workers' children would become…

presumptuous,

or frustrated.

School will only confirm their ignorance for them.

-Look at this. -Yes, you mentioned this.

HE WHO LOVES ME FOLLOWS ME

This is the religion of our time.

The Christ of the Vatican has lost. This one has won.

But there's something very important missing in what you say.

Tolerance.

You know it's "intolerable for a man to be tolerated"? Be careful!

That wasn't me, a Frenchman said it.

-Jean Cocteau. -Exactly, Jean Cocteau.

Is everything okay?

Are you all right?

Mr. Pasolini, are you okay?

Yes, yes, I'm fine.

I need to go.

It's late, I need to go.

Yes, of course. Thank you for the interview.

Is it enough to write your article?

Yes.

Tell me honestly,

did what I said make sense to you?

Of course. It was very interesting. Why are you asking me that?

Because I'm tired,

really tired of always saying the same things and being taken

for a madman, a lunatic.

That's all. Thank you.

Thank you.

-Goodbye and thank you. -Thank you.

Bye.

What does he want?

If he's looking for trouble, he's found it.

Let him speak.

-Hi Pino. -Hi, Pa'.

-Can I have my film back? -They were just wondering how to.

Ah, not like last time, I hope.

-We had a problem. -You want more money?

Well, we wouldn't say no, would we?

Don't listen to him, he's joking. You don't know them!

They're good kids.

-Where and when? -Tomorrow, wherever you like.

I'm leaving tomorrow, I'll be back in a week.

November 1, if that suits you,

it's a holiday, in the evening.

-When will you bring the money? -I told you, November 1.

-All right. Where? -The water airport at Ostia.

There's a football pitch among the shacks, it's not hard to find.

Take your glasses off, Pier Paolo.

Put them back on now.

Oh, God.

Who is it? What's happened?

What is it? Who is it?

-Police, madam, open up! -What is it?

The police?

-Madam, your son has killed Pasolini. -Oh, God.

Don't start screaming now, please.

-I'll explain everything. -Yes.

He drove over him with the car, Pasolini's car, obviously.

But it was self-defense.

Pasolini attacked him.

And Pino's a minor, so don't worry.

Oh, my God!

I'm his defense lawyer.

This is the mandate, all you have to do is sign it.

But we have to get away from here.

The place will be crawling with magistrates, police, journalists.

I'll take you somewhere safe.

Get ready.

No, thank you.

This is Gabriele.

Officially, he's your cousin, okay?

You'll stay with him as long as you need to.

Please.

You wait, I need to speak to you.

You mustn't worry, you understand?

Everything's under control,

I'll look after Pino now.

No court will condemn him.

Everyone knew Pasolini would end up this way sooner or later.

But I'm ashamed. How can I go to work?

Don't you worry about work.

I'll find you another job.

Here, take this.

Don't worry, eh.

Go and get some sleep.

We'll start here and then in all the others.

Don't give them time to react. If they do, it'll be worse for them.

Out!

What are you doing here?

The appointment wasn't here.

Did you bring the film?

-Did you bring the money? -I did.

-What about you? -We'll give you the film.

We can't do anything with it, anyway.

But there's something else to sort out, or have you forgotten?

-What are you on about now? -I'm not on about anything.

You caught us by surprise the other night, now we're ready.

-We'll see if he's a man. -Yeah, a man! He's a poof.

Oh, fuck! Oh! We're doing business and you wanna fight!

-If you wanna try, I'm ready. -So are we.

Get in, Pino, let's go.

-Look. Fuck you! -Let's go!

-Wait a moment. These pricks! -Get in!

Pa', don't worry about those two idiots, they want a fight.

You batter them like last time.

-Was it not you who'd to hit me? -Me? Why would I do that?

Because it was all written, Pino, word for word.

You were meant to memorize it, but since you're not an actor

-you didn't learn it. -What are you talking about?

The boy who killed the poof. You were the boy, Pino.

But that was a film!

You're meant to be a director.

But I'm not the director this time.

Who's the director tonight, Pino?

I don't understand you.

-You really don't understand? -I swear to God!

You really are a good kid.

Take it easy.

Don't kill him.

He has to be on the ground, but alive.

Right, guys, we've to beat him up, but don't overdo it.

No knives, knuckle-dusters or bats.

Use your hands, but take it easy, don't break anything.

-Got it? -Have we got to beat him up or not?

Try to be clearer.

Are you as thick as mince? Beat him up, but not too much. He's a pal.

But we need to teach him a lesson.

He didn't pay when he was meant to.

He tried to make an agreement with you for peanuts.

He thinks he's clever.

And now he's getting a wake-up call.

Come on, let's go.

What? You've never done a line before?

Give him a hand.

Five against one's not fair.

He'll be pushing 50, but he's still fighting!

He might end up doing them.

Fucking Pasolini!

He went to the Coliseum one time looking for fun,

these two big soldiers went for him!

They stole his wallet, he got pissed off,

he left them in a pool of blood and took his wallet back.

That was a sore one!

Do a line instead of talking shit.

Again! You're obsessed. I don't do that.

Come on, it's good. Try it!

I go at 100 bpm at rest. If I take this shit, I'll faint.

What's one line gonna do? Come on, try it tonight.

I'm not some girl you're trying to shag!

-Tonight you do a line! -No. I won't.

-Not tonight, not ever! -Don't piss me off!

Are you mad? Get your hands off me!

-Give me this crap. -Come on!

There.

-You happy? -What a moaner you are!

It's fucking rotten, you shitty junkie!

You not licking? Don't waste anything.

Where the fuck have they got to?

-What a dick you are! -Where are they?

-How would I know! -God, that's rotten.

-Is he dead? -Are you mad?

If he is, they'll kill us. Let me listen.

He's breathing. Let's go.

Oi! He's woken up, let's go, move!

Pier Paolo! Pier Paolo!

-What is it, Mom? What's wrong? -Sorry.

I dreamt of Guido: he was calling me,

"Mom, help me! Help me!"

There were these horrible men, beating him to death.

Don't be scared, Mom.

You're here with me, don't worry.

What a nightmare!

It's been so long since I dreamt about your brother.

-Relax, calm down. -Yes.

-Yes. -Stay here with me.

That's us, Se'! He's done just right.

I'll go in front and show you where he is.

Why? What are we meant to do?

-Drive over him. -What?

Start it up, move!

Are you insane, Se'?

-Where are you going? -This wasn't the agreement.

-It was just to batter him! -Where are you going, dickhead?

Come here! Where are you going? You'll pay for this, I swear to God!

Coward!

Oi! This cocaine is rotting your brain.

Stop it! We were just meant to batter him!

Stop, Sergio!

You'll wreck my car, the oil sump.

Stop!

What am I meant to do in all of this?

You come with me.

Actually, no. I'll come with you, in your car.

My car in that disaster area?

It'll get wrecked. You're mad! I'm not coming, it's brand new, no way!

Do a line and stop breaking our balls about the car!

I don't do that stuff!

On my planet, I snort the lot

I'm forced to!

Prince! What the fuck are you saying?

How did Pelosi do this move? The idiot can't even drive.

This won't work, it won't stand up.

Pino's confession won't stand up like this.

Se'! Are you totally out of it?

What the fuck are you doing? I don't want to know about this!

I'm not even here tonight. I'm going home with my car.

-Your car? -Yes, yes.

Moron, we gave you your car to do this job.

Do you understand? Your car's identical to Pasolini's,

'cos it has to look like Pelosi killed him by accident with his car!

What the fuck are you saying? Is this a joke? Come on!

This guy's a bear! He'll get to his feet, he just got a doing.

We'll take him to hospital.

-You don't really wanna kill him? -Oh, guys, he's coming round.

Knock him out again!

Mom!

Mom! Mom!

Anto', we're in the shit, do you understand?

Do you understand we're in the shit? The car's in your name.

You'll be the first, they won't have time to go for me,

that other lot will kill me first! Do you understand, Anto'? Eh?

Come on! Anto', I don't have any friends.

You're my only one, eh?

-Anto', I'm begging you… -I can't do it.

-Please, let's get out of this shit! -No, I wanna go.

-Anto', please. -No, I can't.

Sit at the wheel! You're the man for this job.

-What do I have to do? -You sit there, follow my hand, eh?

-Just follow my hand. -What do I have to do?

-Drive over him. -What?

I'll go here, follow my hand. You won't see fuck all, understand?

I'll do all the seeing. I'll see, Anto', trust me!

Watch my hand, start it up.

Reverse, come on.

That's it, Anto', trust me! I'll watch!

Come on, let's go!

Good man!

That's it. Forward.

Forward. Steer the other way.

Forward, steer the other way.

Hey, son!

Son! You've become a man.

A real man, do you understand?

Listen to me.

You don't need to invent a fucking thing, okay?

You've memorized how things went.

I mean it.

Just recite your lines and everything will be okay.

Your lawyer's the best, oh!

Your dad and mom and sister, they're all with us.

They're safe.

All right?

-You got it? -Yeah.

I got it.

What the fuck are you doing there?

-Where's my car? -Behind that tree.

You know what you've got to do here?

We're to take him to Casal del Marmo, yes?

And hand him over to your colleagues.

I need to take Pelosi with Pasolini's car to our friends.

You drive back over him in reverse,

but without touching the steering wheel.

And then get the hell out of here, okay?

We'll talk tomorrow. I'll call you.

Bye, Anto'.

Anto', I'm an only child.

Until tonight I never had a brother.

Fra', Jesus H! We killed him.

-We crushed him, Fra'! -Shut up!

Get on this fucking bike and let's go home!

That way we can forget all about this! It never happened. Move!

Try and stop that blood, we mustn't get the car dirty!

Whose is this? Yours or his?

-I don't know. -Clean yourself up.

You saw everything? You didn't miss anything?

Good, now forget everything!

Nothing happened here.

A poof died, a pervert, a guy who buggered little boys.

Does anybody give a shit?

Anyone want to cry?

You can go back to bed now.

I know every one of you.

And if anybody's fed up with living,

they just have to open their mouths.

Good night, everyone.

And kindly get the fuck out of here.

Pa', you sure you're not hungry?

I told you, I ate earlier with Ninetto.

I need to get a move on or we'll be late.

Don't worry, it's not midnight yet.

You're not Pier Paolo Pasolini, are you?

I've got a good memory for faces. It's you.

-Don't say no. -And who are you?

"Franzesco."

-Francesco? -"Franzesco", yes.

-Can I ask you something? -Of course.

You wrote in Corriere della Sera

you'd like to abolish compulsory schooling, didn't you?

Yes, true, but it's a lot more complicated than that.

I know your thinking's a lot more complicated than that,

but do you know how I know?

I know because I go to school and study really hard.

In fact I get headaches.

Endless headaches, to be "prezise,"

but I made it to university,

though my dad's a worker and my mom's a housewife.

Does that seem wrong?

What are you studying, Francesco?

You haven't answered my question. Does it seem wrong

the likes of me should go to university?

-France', come here and stop it! -I'm coming, Dad.

I'm talking with Pasolini. Do you know Pasolini?

Maybe you should go back to your parents, France'.

I just wanted to tell you one thing, Mr. Pasolini.

If I hadn't gone to school, I'd be dead.

You noticed how I "pronounze" some things?

Well, yes, of course, I'd noticed, yes.

Good. But I'm aware of that, you know?

I'm well aware of my "pronunziation" problem,

and I know I'm short-sighted and I'm no Charles Atlas.

So, I ask you,

can you imagine what my life would be like without school?

The thing is, Francesco, what I said in Corriere della Sera

wasn't about you.

You're a very special person, don't stop being that.

Thank you. That's a great compliment from you.

You're a very special person as well.

Goodbye, and good luck.

France', come on, get out of here.

Is this your son?

-No. -Yet he's very like you.

-Can I ask one last thing? -Of course.

Can I have your autograph?

Why?

I want to keep it in my wallet, I'm sure it'll bring me good luck.

-Have you got a pen? -Of "courze" I have. Here.

Thank you.

-There. -Thank you very much.

Wait, Dad! Dad, come on, let's go back!

What a weirdo, oh!

Good morning, dear colleague.

Today's your lucky day.

I have a mandate from the family.

You can go and sleep at home.

I pulled his hair.

Then I kicked him in the balls.

Then I picked up a… what the fuck's it called?

A plank of wood!

And I smashed it over his head.

Then the fucking plank broke.

And he grabbed it.

He started battering me, the son of a bitch.

He threw me to the ground.

He broke my nose!

I was covered in blood.

I couldn't see a fucking thing.

And he was battering me.

Really battering me!

Stop a moment, wait. Was he beating himself up?

How did you get the better of him?

How do I know? I didn't kill him!

I'm innocent! I have nothing to do with it!

I didn't drive over him.

I can't even drive!

I can't even drive that fucking car!

Pino, stop talking shit.

What, can you not remember anything else?

Who are you? What the fuck do you want from me?

Who am I?

I'm your lawyer.

I spoke with your parents.

Everything's all right, don't worry.

Like fuck I won't worry!

You're trying to trap me here, you bastard!

What the fuck are you shouting for?

You need to shut up.

Shut up.

If you say another word, you know what'll happen to your parents?

Can you imagine?

I don't want to hear a word from you from now on.

You were alone, do you understand?

There was nobody else there.

And you drove the car.

Is that clear?

Guys, the statement's here.

Precise, all written down.

It's all there.

You just have to copy it.

As you can see,

he's not able.

We have to read it to him.

-So he can sign it. -We can do without that, eh?

We won't take long, don't worry.

"I reacted by grabbing him by the hair

and kicking him in the genitals.

Then I picked up a plank of wood that was nearby

and hit him on the head with it.

After the blow, the plank broke in two,

and I kept hitting him with the bit in my hand.

I used the same bit of wood to hit him,

until he fell."

This is what I have understood,

that the person fleeing on foot, pursued,

was Pier Paolo Pasolini, the poet.

And he or they or whoever,

who were running after him, those men without faces,

didn't know what they were doing

and didn't know who Pasolini was.

It could have been someone he knew,

just as it could have been someone who'd contributed

to create the situation from which emerge

the people who do these things.

Now, those who don't know who Pasolini was,

those who don't know what he does, need to be illuminated.

I know you know who Pier Paolo Pasolini was and what he represented,

but I want to repeat it,

I want to repeat it in part to console myself a little

over his atrocious death.

I want to tell you what we've lost.

Us, his friends, you,

all the Italian people, basically.

With Pier Paolo Pasolini…

With Pier Paolo Pasolini we first of all lost a man

who was profoundly good, kind and gentle,

a man with a soul that always sought higher feelings.

A man who hated violence.

Yes, there are lots of good people, but not many like Pasolini.

We're not going to see the likes of him again here on earth any time soon.