Original subtitles

THE TURIN HORSE

In Turin on January 3rd 1889,

Friedrich Nietzsche steps out of the door of number six Via Carlo Alberto,

perhaps to take a stroll, perhaps to go by the post office to collect his mail.

Not far from him, or indeed very far removed from him,

a cabman is having trouble with his stubborn horse.

Despite all his urging, the horse refuses to move,

whereupon the cabman - Giuseppe? Carlo? Ettore? -

loses his patience and takes his whip to it.

Nietzsche comes up to the throng

and that puts an end to the brutal scene being made by the cabman,

who by this time is foaming with rage.

The solidly built and full—mustached Nietzsche suddenly jumps up to the cab

and throws his arms around the horse's neck, sobbing.

His neighbour takes him home,

where he lies still and silent for two days on a divan

until he mutters the obligatory last words:

”Mutter, ich bin dumm, ”

and lives for another ten years, gentle and demented,

in the care of his mother and sisters.

Of the horse, we know nothing.

THE FIRST DAY

It's ready.

Go to bed.

Hey!

Hey, you!

What is it?

Can't you hear them either?

What?

The woodworm, they're not doing it.

I've heard them for 58 years.

But I don't hear them now.

They really have stopped.

What's it all about, Papa?

I don't know.

Let's sleep.

She lies back and pulls the blanket over herself.

Ohlsdorfer turns on his side

and fixes his eyes on the window.

The girl stares at the ceiling, her father at the window.

At times a tile can be heard crashing down from the roof

and shattering noisily.

The gale roars relentlessly around the house.

THE SECOND DAY

Come here.

Can't you see she won't move?

Stop it!

Come here!

Fuck.

It's ready.

I've run out of palinka. Would you give me a bottle?

Give him some.

— Why didn't you go into town? — The Wind's blown it away.

How come?

It's gone to ruin.

Why would it go to ruin?

Because everything's in ruins,

everything's been degraded,

but I could say that they've ruined and degraded everything.

Because this is not some kind of cataclysm,

coming about with so—called innocent human aid.

On the contrary...

it's about man's own judgement, his own judgement over his own self,

which of course God has a big hand in,

or dare I say, takes part in.

And whatever he takes part in

is the most ghastly creation that you can imagine.

Because, you see, the world has been debased.

So it doesn't matter what I say

because everything has been debased that they've acquired,

and since they've acquired everything in a sneaky, underhand fight,

they've debased everything.

Because whatever they touch —

and they touch everything — they've debased.

This is the way it was until the final victory. Until the triumphant end.

Acquire, debase,

debase, acquire.

Or I can put it differently if you like:

to touch, debase and thereby acquire,

or touch, acquire and thereby debase.

It's been going on like this for centuries. On, on and on.

This and only this, sometimes on the sly, sometimes rudely,

sometimes gently, sometimes brutally,

but it has been going on and on.

Yet only in one way,

like a rat attacks from ambush.

Because for this perfect victory

it was also essential that the other side...

That is, everything that's excellent, great in some way, and noble,

should not engage in any kind of fight.

There shouldn't be any kind of struggle,

just the sudden disappearance of one side,

meaning the disappearance of the excellent, the great, the noble.

So that by now these victors who attack from ambush rule the earth,

and there isn't a single tiny nook

where one can hide something from them,

because everything they can lay their hands on is theirs.

Even things we think they can't reach — but they do reach —

are also theirs.

The heavens are already theirs, and theirs are all our dreams.

Theirs is the moment, nature,

infinite silence.

Even immortality is theirs, you understand?

Everything, everything is lost forever!

And those many noble,

great and excellent just stood there, if I can put it that way.

They stopped at this point,

and had to understand, and had to accept

that there is neither god nor gods.

And the excellent, the great and the noble

had to understand and accept this right from the beginning.

But, of course, they were quite incapable of understanding it.

They believed it and accepted it, but they didn't understand it.

They just stood there, bewildered, but not resigned,

until something — that flash on the mind —

finally enlightened them.

And all at once they realised that there is neither god nor gods.

All at once they saw that there is neither good nor bad.

Then they saw and understood

that if this was so,

then they themselves do not exist either.

You see,

I reckon this may have been the moment when we can say that

they were extinguished, they burnt out.

Extinguished and burnt out

like the fire left to smoulder in the meadow.

One was the constant loser,

the other was the constant victor.

Defeat, victory,

defeat, victory.

And one day — here in the neighbourhood —

I had to realise,

and I did realise, that I was mistaken,

I was truly mistaken when I thought

that there has never been

and could never be any kind of change here on earth.

Because, believe me, I know now

that this change has indeed taken place.

Come off it! That's rubbish.

THE THIRD DAY

Coat!

She's not eating.

She Will.

Do eat.

You have to eat.

What's that?

What's happening?

A cart's approaching.

Who are they?

Gypsies, I think.

What the fuck do they want here?

I don't know, but they're coming this way.

The stinking rotten bastards.

What shall we do?

Go and chase them away!

What are you waiting for?

Get moving!

There's water here.

Come and help!

Come and help Papa!

Come on, hey! Come and drink!

Hold the horse.

Look.

Here comes the girl. Here's the girl.

Her eyes are like the devil's.

Get away from here! Go away!

What are you doing here? Get away from here!

Come here!

— Come with us! — I won't!

I'm not going anywhere!

Come with us to America!

Are you deaf? Let me go! I'm not going with you!

God forbid!

Come here!

I don't care!

Let go!

Fuck you, sons of bitches! Get the hell out of here!

I'll rip your guts out, for fuck's sake!

Dirty rotten gypsies!

This is for the water.

He'll kill me! Papa!

Papa! Come on!

Just come over here, you worm!

We'll be back!

The water is ours! The earth is ours!

You're weak! You're weak!

Drop dead! Drop dead!

Drop dead! Drop dead!

One.

Since in holy places

only those things are allowed,

the practice of which serves

the veneration of the Lord,

and everything is forbidden

that is not fitted for

the holiness of the place,

and since...

holy places have been violated

by the great injustice of actions

that have taken place within them

that scandalise the congregation,

for this very same reason

no service unto the Lord

can be held there until...

through a ceremony of penitence,

these aforementioned injustices

have been put to rights.

The Ordinarius says

to the congregation:

The Lord was with you!

Morning will become night,

night will be at an end...

The storm continues to rage outside,

the wind still sweeps relentlessly across the land from the same direction,

but now there is nothing in its path to obstruct it.

Only a great cloud of dust whipped up by the wind

rushes recklessly forward,

bone—dry dust and the ravaging nothing

that the wind rolls before it as it rages unbridled

over the barren land.

THE FOURTH DAY

— Come! — What's up?

— Come, quick! — What's wrong?

The well!

Phew... Fuck it!

Cover it.

And the palinka?

Why haven't you eaten?

You're not going anywhere...

Drink.

At least drink a little water.

Drink!

For my sake.

Pack up some clothes, dishes, needle and thread, things like that.

What for?

We're not staying here. Pack.

Blankets, palinka.

Palinka.

Potatoes too.

Get the handcart.

Come on!

THE FIFTH DAY

What's this darkness?

Light the lamps.

Fuck it.

Why didn't you fill it up?

It's full.

Bring some embers.

What is all this?

I don't know.

Let's go to bed.

Even the embers went out.

Tomorrow we'll try again.

We can hear them groping their way to their beds,

we can hear them lying down

and pulling the blankets over them.

We can hear them breathing,

only their breathing can we hear.

Dead silence outside, the storm is over.

Dead silence falls on the house too.

THE SIXTH DAY

Eat.

We have to eat.

Directed by

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