Original subtitles

[soft piano music]

- In 1973, if I remember correctly,

I was working at the Argentina theater with a show.

I did a couple shows there, but I believe it was

Manuali Di Teatro by Achille Campanile, in 1973.

Then Guidarino Guidi's agent called me, and he said to me,

"They saw a photograph of you and are interested in your face,

but it's a film in English."

I say, "Ouch, I don't know a word of English, what can I tell them?

Where am I going?" He says, "Let's do one thing. I'll give you two,

three sentences to learn in English."

I say, "Listen, Guidarino, don't complicate my life,

just write this in English for me:

I want a silent role because I don't know English.

You write this for me and I will learn by heart."

So he did. He wrote this sentence for me and I read it at home:

"I wish for a mute role. I don't know English, I'm sorry."

I go, I introduce myself. These guys stand up, all very nice.

I was very embarrassed. "Hello," I said, because, "Hello"

or "Yes," what could I say?

Then at a certain point, they were talking.

I didn't understand anything and I said, "Stop, stop, stop."

They look at me and I say,

"I wish to play a mute role, because I don't speak English."

Big laugh from all of them, collectively, followed by my giggle.

Like that. And then they hired me.

In fact, they removed all the lines from Olga's character.

[orchestral music]

- Olga was -- I saw some time ago, I got a photograph

of this Olga, who was me, and I must say that in the photograph, she looks like

a Flemish portrait, and I loved it.

The hairstyle, the expression, even the dress all buttoned up

around her neck. However, she also had a sweetness towards the children.

This I can say, but nothing remarkable, if not

in the end, this dress becomes important. But I will tell you at the end.

Someone had told me that Carlo Ponti was looking for a type.

Back then, it was the period when nothing was done in the summer.

You were unemployed, right?

And having to support a family, a son,

I had to get some work.

Back then, we went around with the photo book.

So, I happened to be at Ponti's, only when they opened the door for me,

he was in a long, long, long room and I was very far away.

I put my foot down and sank, because the carpet was this high,

and his chair was elevated. So, I got to the desk

that I was this small, while he was up above, like this.

Nothing came of it, because it made me laugh and I went away.

I saw Andy Warhol only once on set.

I was very impressed by his hair, because it looked a lot like mine;

blond, with a bob, our hair was styled the same,

so I stopped. Then he had pink cheeks. He was nice, smiling.

That was the only time I saw him. He was the king of Pop Art, right?

His paintings, his sauce cans, the multiples, right?

Of Marilyn, right?

The same painting reproduced many times with different colors.

So, he was a myth for us, to see him there among us,

through intermediary, meaning Morrissey,

but knowing he was behind it was pretty shocking.

Then when I saw him there, I saw his blond hair.

I said, "Well, we're not that different."

I remember that Morrissey was very thin. Thin, thin, thin, tall, tall, tall, and I

was this short compare to him.

Smiling, nice, but...you know.

I have very little to say, because they spoke in English

and I was left open-mouthed trying to understand:

"Garden," trying to understand.

The barrier of the language is terrible. I have never been able to learn English.

I was telling a friend of mine, desperate, about the English studies I was doing,

and I said to him, "You know, after so many months of studying,

I'm not even able to say 'oui'."

I didn't even remember that I had to say "Yes."

To give you the height of my stupidity and ignorance,

I remember the set, very rich, and I remember a thought:

in here, since I can't talk to anyone,

I can only speak with Dalida,

but she was submerged in a tub of water up to here,

so it was impossible to communicate with her, too.

So, I was struck by this tub from the set, Within it

this beautiful woman; she was a nymph in this blue water, she was beautiful.

She was really beautiful.

In all this dark, this tinsel, this macabre,

then there was this bright tub with this pink body inside,

and perhaps because being myopic, it was the only thing I could focus on.

[dramatic orchestral music]

- I was in Florence and Prato with a show by Ronconi.

It had been months and I get a phone call at the hotel from my agent,

who was Guidarino Guidi back then, who tells me: "They want you on the set,"

and I say, "But isn't the film finished?" He says, "Yes, it's finished. So what?

They want you on set because a scene is missing."

I say, "A scene missing?" So, I learned that after the film was finished,

edited, in the cinema hall, they realized that all the characters,

the inhabitants of the castle, they were dead except Olga.

No one knew what happened to Olga, so she had to die, too.

The American crew, the Americans, said,

"No problem, let's all go to Florence and find a place,

and there We record with Bosisio, we film Bosisio."

The Italians, part of the Italian troupe, said,

"No way, we would spend too much, We don't want to."

So, they came with a car at dawn to pick me up,

they took me to Rome on the set. I don't know if it was De Paolis.

I don't know where the hell it was, I don't remember.

I was violently thrown into this dark set, dressed,

combed, and then comes a gentleman who says to me, "Sorry," and unbuttons me.

I say, "Excuse me, what are you doing?" And I do like this.

He says, "No, it is necessary," and I understood that it was necessary.

And he takes from a tray a pork liver, a veal heart,

a spleen of some kind of beast, and sticks them all on my skin,

and I say, "But please, put a plastic sheet underneath, no?"

Then they close me up, button me up up to below the neck all this --

I don't eat kidney, I don't eat liver, I don't eat offal.

You can imagine what it could have been for me to have this stuff,

among other things frozen from the fridge, on my bare skin

and held in place by the dress. Which then -- when the dress is torn up,

when they kill me, it all comes out of there.

And I couldn't Wait to die, at that point, to get all that stuff off of me.

This I can tell you, then, for the rest, I was completely absent.

I was caught, I was a dying person, so I don't know who was there,

who wasn't there, who was filming. I don't know anything.

I never know anything, because I also always live in my own world.

I usually hang outwith the hairdresser and make-up artist in the movies.

We eat together. I don't go with the actors to eat,

they bring me the basket and I'm fine there.

I'm not the type to go talk to the screenwriter,

or the lighting provider, or to have some favor, no.

I'm very private, I just do my job.

That's Why I'm telling you that I don't have much to tell.

If they come to me and say, "Madam, I'm going to film you from here in 3D,"

I...

I just want to act, I don't want to care about the camera,

or the sign of the cross. I understand that this is necessary in cinema,

the patch placed on the ground that asks you to stop.

But how is it done?

If I have to --

I am free range, understand?

If I have to start keeping even my gaze fixed on you,

it already inhibits me very much, because I live and when I act, I live.

It's not like one can live like that, one lives spontaneously.

So, I couldn't know if someone didn't tell me specifically.

I don't care where the cameras are,

that's the operator's job; where to film me, how to film me.

I'm not one of those actors who says, "Look, put the light on me like this,"

or, "Film me like this, because I don't look good like that,

my profile is bad, better here than there."

Among other things, they always made me do the character actor. What does it matter?

This scene was shot by Margheriti, but they told me that Margheriti shot it,

because I was not in the condition --

you gotta understand that they are all in the dark.

Beyond the lights being on us, they are all in the dark.

How do you see who is behind the camera, who is the operator?

But not even the clapperboard guy.

We see the clapperboard guy against the light.

So, I know it was him, but I don't know him.

Maybe he introduced himself, I don't know.

Dying on set has happened to me many times.

Who knows, maybe it's good luck.

Because, after all, you live, but you also know, inside you,

in your subconscious, which is a fiction.

At least, in that case, you try to remember

not to identify yourself too much,

otherwise you'd be holding good luck charms the whole time.

I hate horror movies, so I've never seen a horror movie,

including this one.

But this time, I will watch it, and therefore, We will celebrate like that

and finally I will see it, too.

Wait, I mean, it's not like I've never seen your movie.

I never go to see things where I am, because I never like myself.

I always see flaws, I say,

"Why didn't you do that instead of that?"

So, I don't watch or listen to myself on principle.

[orchestral music]