Original subtitles

What can I tell you?

From his birth until he was 10 or so,

my son loved puppets.

He loved putting on shows for his friends.

I'd buy him the puppet heads,

and like a tailor he'd stitch costumes for them.

Then I bought him a little puppet theater,

which he put out on our big terrace,

and there he'd put on puppet shows

for his schoolmates and playmates.

He charged each one a penny.

Camera!

Look my hand. Go Martino.

Come on, Menicuccio.

- How was that? - Good.

Good. Let's do one with the —

Camera!

Close your lips, as if they're chapped.

Touch your lips. Close your mouth, Pasqualino.

Do that now and then.

One... two... three.

Breathe. Close your lips.

Tighter.

Raise your arm.

Open your eyes.

Look at me, Pasqualino!

- Did you get it? - One last take.

Ready.

I told you: Don't just wave your arms.

Turn in circles.

Turn in circles as you come down.

Camera!

As wild and crazy as possible!

Like there's electricity running through you!

Wave your arms! Kick your legs!

Ready.

Go, Enzo!

Where's Ferretti?

Come here, quick. I want to show you this.

Here too, Ferretti.

This is a bunch of crap!

There's no love for things!

He didn't come to check. He doesn't give a crap.

That's what makes me so angry —

the lack of any sense of responsibility

or collaboration.

He should be ashamed.

He should be ashamed.

And you can tell him so!

"Federico said you should be ashamed!"

A complete lack of interest, his couldn't-give-a-shit attitude.

I don't get it.

Even on the crappiest films, I've never seen —

Never!

What's so funny? I'm not mad at you.

A guy's balls

can only swell up so far before they explode!

What the fuck are you filming?

It all ends up causing huge delays.

What happens is...

when I go to shoot, I have to say, "Hold it!

Add that. Take that away. Nail that down..."

When they come forward,

you step out of the way.

Go on.

Then you follow.

That's far enough.

It's a long shot, sweetheart. - But I want to do it right!

And I want you to.

You don't give me enough time to say...

"Step forward."

Show me how long it takes.

Since I can't hear a friggin' thing from there,

when you say, "Step... matrimony"...

look at me as if you're looking at Martino,

then turn and say...

So when do you look at me?

Before I say, "Step forward."

Then I call Alain.

"The gods approve of this union."

I look at you.

No, you look at Martin.

Then I call Alain.

Then you say the rest and come here.

Again.

Valdemaro, I told you:

Wave your arms, shout, jump around!

Camera!

Where's the vet?

That cow keeps moving.

I understand, but in a film...

You're giving me medical technicalities.

If they've split its head or slit its throat —

In real life, sure,

but in a film, if it keeps moving, it looks like —

It is still moving?

It would have postmortem contractions

even if you cut its veins.

The ancient Romans didn't shoot cows in the head.

So the animal would have contractions and fall down.

They'd slit its throat, and the contractions would continue.

Go on, Cynthia.

Turn around, Cynthia!

Up your ass!

Go back to your place! We rehearsed it 20 times!

How can you be so stupid?

We say that in Rome affectionately.

It's not affectionate. It's really bad.

Especially talking to a girl.

A man shouldn't —

I'm sorry. I was on edge.

It was all going well, then you messed up.

It just slipped out.

- Show me the picture. - You won't tear it up?

I look awful!

We'll take another one.

Let me see it.

Don't tear it up.

You promised.

You're awful!

It was a bad picture of me!

You don't keep your promises.

Why keep a picture where I look like a 75-year-old in a toupee?

I'm very shy.

Timida? I'm timid too.

I'm very timid.

Me too.

- How are you? - Fine, thanks.

Tell me now.

You told me very vaguely what to do,

and I did it.

I was just kidding.

I changed my mind. - Sure, later...

but at first you said nothing. I never know!

Sweetheart, it was a long shot.

Then you tell me, "Look at them."

A man can change his mind.

I know, darling...

but I'm very delicate.

Don't I treat you delicately?

Sure, real delicately!

- You see this guy? - Did I do it right?

You were great!

Otherwise we'd reshoot it.

Because now I'm nerv—

You're what?

Poor thing.

After three months that you are in Satyricon...

you still eat like...

a very well-educated British!

I'll say a few words of this made-up Greek —

Should I speak faster?

Yes, and anticipate their delivery,

because you know this Greek tragedy very well,

so you anticipate their words.

Since I made them all up myself!

Here come the actors.

Look up transfixed...

with a smile of admiration for poetry and art.

Hold it there, Salvo.

Clowns!

Then you turn to the wall...

"White, red, yellow, green..."

And as you're speaking,

"White, red, green..." — you keep going.

- Before they throw stuff? - No, when stuff starts flying.

Put it over your head, but keep talking.

You'll tell me when?

Yes, I'll tell you when it goes on and comes off.

When you take it off,

it's to insult them.

"Pigs! Bastards!"

Anything you want.

"Shitheads!"

Yes, that's better than continuing to recite the verses.

Then, after that, say another verse or two.

And when the stuff really starts flying —

Let's give it a try.

It'll make it lively and boisterous.

Wait!

Remo, get out of there.

Salvo, action!

Where are you taking that?

Stop! What the fuck is he doing?

Clear out!

Light the smoke pot.

Action!

Faster.

That's enough smoke.

Take it off!

I'm a poet, a great poet!

You're all dickheads!

Clowns!

Cover up! Laugh, people!

Queer! You old bum!

You old faggot!

Hold it there a moment.

Okay.

What the fuck are you doing?

I said to shout and jump around!

You stand there like sheep!

Don't move. Just your head.

- I understand. - But you don't do it!

Don't rock forward and back.

Let's try it again.

I told you two to jump. Why don't you do it?

Jump as high as you can!

Once more.

Wait for the music.

Action!

Hold it, Jessica.

Lie down.

Lie down.

You come here and then here.

Wait a second.

Mark that with chalk.

Hold on. She's still over there!

Together!

Sorry, Jessica. From the top.

Go on.

Quick, Jessica.

Start moving in.

What the hell kind of dance is that?

Then you sit down.

Magali, go on.

Down, Jessica. Don't wet your pants.

Stop there.

Last one and then we're done.

You want to rest?

- What's wrong? - This thing is —

If you do it here, you're hidden behind this thing.

Do it over here.

Another take.

Lights.

Dance!

Now you look like you're fighting with them.

Start dancing here,

or it looks like you're trying to escape.

Fine, but when you get here, start dancing.

Okay? Places.

Dance, Fortunata!

Was it all right?

What the fuck are you filming?

What's the point?

I can't give one person two per diems.

I don't care what he says.

Impotent!

Less dust!

Not in their faces! That's where it's all going.

Lisona's lovely breasts!

You remember when we would make love?

I can't give one person two per diems.

Gideon, you want to film this?

Do you mind, Mr. Valli? Romolo!

Feel that belly!

It all goes to my waist. You're so thin.

They're filming for American TV.

Let's face the camera. This is my bad profile.

You know we love you

for everything you say and do.

Even when interviewers are hostile and out to get you,

something nice still comes out of it.

They're all very pleasant.

I'll tell you why later.

What's all this? Still that big film of yours?

You know Gideon Bachmann?

Look at the one filming the other!

Is this for Satyricon?

Gideon, how should I introduce you?

From the Breaking Balls Corporation.

You should move over there now

or you'll be in the way.

Enrico Wertmüller sends regards.

Ah, how is he?

Great pictures, Tazio.

You get better and better, you son of a gun.

I brought this Spanish magazine.

What's it called?

Triunfo.

May I tell you something with all my heart?

Up your ass!

Ready?

Elisa, push him away.

Push him away. Action up there.

Do as I say or I'll let you have it.

Move your body as if you're coming.

Bear with me. Open your legs.

Be nice.

Let me try again.

Now you say, "What's between your legs?

A pickled eel?"

Effects!

What the fuck are you waiting for?

Gideon, stop busting my balls!

Ready... effects.

Action back there! Shout!

Rosina, move your head!

Felix, out of the way.

Elisa, get up!

Kick him!

Rosina, go on.

Roberto and Alfredo!

Augusto!

Roberto, go away!

An artist...

as long as he's fully absorbed in his creativity,

in that dimension

for which he was born —

Nothing bad can happen to him

as long as he's immersed in that atmosphere

where he can breathe, that makes him grow.

What's this madman saying?

Sorry, I didn't understand.

Your work protects you.

It doesn't help you participate in the world.

In a way it does,

because the only authentic way I can participate

in what you call the world is my work.

It forces me

to relate to people,

to go do research.

My work is my only authentic way

of relating to everyone,

of relating to myself and expressing myself,

of finding sustenance by engaging with others,

and constantly relating —

story by story and film by film —

to the objective world outside myself.

So no, I don't think so.

I think it's actually very healthy.

And I have some very simple proof:

Within the confines of what I do...

when I feel fulfilled in my work, I feel better,

including physically.

Why? Do you think exposing yourself

to all the perils, magnetic charges,

tensions, contradictions, and pitfalls of a fanciful world

is much less dangerous

than exposing yourself to contacts with the world?

- He's always around, eh? - Always right there.

Just inches away.

For me, Fellini is a friend.

He needs protection, help, love.

He doesn't know exactly how to live.

I think he's scared of God.

The supernatural frightens him and fascinates him.

He's a Catholic, a believer.

He's afraid to be alone at night.

But the mystery of these things that are greater than us

really unnerves him.

He's a vulnerable child.

It's all part of his imagination,

his wild imagination.

He has this thirst to know people,

because it nourishes him.

He's always in those trailers,

with all those women, dancers, queers, whores — everything!

It's fantastic!

Sometimes he's cruel, but it's the cruelty of a child,

because then he's immediately sorry.

I'm very interested in this question:

Since Satyricon talks

about the history of mankind before Christ,

I'm wondering what your aim is for the film.

In the press office you'll find

all the interviews and statements I've given.

But I have more personal questions

for my thesis.

Let's talk Monday, my friend.

He's always like that:

the man who seduces

and allows himself to be seduced in turn —

but not too much.

You con artist!

Why can't you love?