Original subtitles

(Boats creaking)

(Panting)

(Boats continue creaking)

(Siren wailing faintly)

Tommaso: Where is he now? Lenny: He's angry.

And not with you or, for that matter, with me.

His anger keeps him from viewing matters objectively.

And so, in protest, he's moved to a new place.

He's gone to the outskirts of town,

a filthy studio apartment upstairs from a tire repair shop.

At night, god suffers from the heat.

He can't seem to sleep, 'cause he's come to the conclusion

there's nothing he can do about human beings.

He's decided he's lost the u.

Now, it's up to you.

The attentions that your holiness has been paying

to the wife of the commandant of the Swiss guard

have not gone unnoticed.

According to vox populi,

it is believed that the holy father

is conducting an unseemly relationship with that woman.

Monsignor Gutierrez was right.

In the Vatican, gossip is called "calumny."

Your holiness, what do you intend to do?

(Seagulls calling in distance)

Revolution, tommaso.

I intend to start a revolution.

(Lenny sighs)

(Machinery cranking)

(Seagulls calling)

(Ship horn blares)

(Lenny breathes deeply)

(Doves coomc)

(Wind whooshing)

People say you're a Saint.

People say

you're a Saint who performs miracles.

(Lenny sighs)

Hail Mary,

full of grace.

Our lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women,

and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary,

mother of god,

pray for us sinners,

now and at the hour of our death.

Amen.

(Labored breathing)

Voiello: Bingo.

(Camera clicking rapidly)

(Continues clicking)

Now, holy father,

I no longer really know what miracle to wish for.

"I no longer really know what miracle to wish for."

(Camera continues clicking)

Esther...

I love god

because it's so painful to love human beings.

I love a god that never leaves me or that always leaves me.

God, the absence of god...

Always reassuring

and definitive.

I'm a priest.

I renounced my fellow man, my fellow woman,

because I don't want to suffer,

because I'm incapable of withstanding the heartbreak of love.

Because I'm unhappy,

like all priests.

It would be wonderful to love you the way you want to be loved.

But that's not possible.

Because I'm not a man.

I'm a coward.

Priest: "I am a coward.

"Like all priests."

(Camera continues clicking)

(Speaks Italian)

- That's enough photos for now.

(Bells tolling faintly)

(Missing playing)

(Panting)

(Dog barking in distance)

(Thunder rumbling)

Watch out for the custodian.

- Are you up for going on? - I am. What about you?

Sister Mary will be upset.

I don't care. I want to find my mom and dad.

I'm going back.

I'm sorry, Lenny.

Okay.

You couldn't get to sleep.

The evening doesn't console me.

Nothing's changed, as you can see.

Well, something's changed.

You were just a jerk, and now you've become the pope.

(Both chuckle)

Let's smoke a cigarette together.

Secretly.

- Like when we were kids. - Like when we were kids.

I'm glad you found a moment to say hello to me.

- How could you doubt I'd come? - Uh, I always doubt.

(Chuckles)

Now, when are you gonna make this blessed speech to the cardinals?

When I have something to say.

Well, I'm all out of cigarettes.

(Doorbell buzzes)

(Panting)

The holy father isn't in the apostolic palace.

Nor is the cardinal secretary of state.

Well, what time is it?

3:00 in the morning.

I'll take care of it. You go to sleep. Now, don't say a word to anyone.

(Doorbell rings)

(Grunts softly)

- (Door opens) - Sister Mary: Will you let me in?

Voiello: Of course. Sister Mary: Thank you.

- You are very beautiful at night, sister Mary. - (Sighs)

Please.

Let me introduce you to my best friend, girolamo.

- Is he a good friend? - Yes.

- Ah. - The only one who never criticizes me.

- Why did you come here? - Because of the pope.

How disappointing.

I thought you came because of me.

Nobody knows where the pope is.

Oh. Don't worry.

Sooner or later, all popes need to remind themselves of what freedom is.

Then they come back.

We had to go to retrieve pius xlll's predecessor

from a bingo parlor.

He was arguing with a caller, saying he was cheating.

(Chuckles)

When you want, you know how to be quite comforting.

How beautiful you are, sister Mary, at night.

You already told me that.

We love god because it is so painful to love other men and women.

You and I have renounced our fellow men and women

- because we don't want to suffer. - Hmm.

Because we are incapable of withstanding the heartbreak of love.

Because we are unhappy.

Because we are cowards, like all priests and all nuns.

Your words are beautiful.

But that's not all.

They're true.

They are not my words. They are the words of your pope.

(Girolamo moaning)

Yes, yes, girolamo. Now I'll tell sister Mary, hmm?

What are you going to tell me?

That I had found a way of destroying the holy father.

I had collected all the evidence for a good old-fashioned scandal.

But I am not going to do it.

The evidence is in here.

Here, you take it.

Your hands are safer than mine.

Because you know something, sister Mary?

You were right.

Your pope really is a Saint.

Yes.

He is.

- Good evening, sir. - Hi. Um...

Would you sell us some cigarettes?

I don't know if we have any.

Make yourselves comfortable. I'll go check.

(Thanks in Italian)

(Footsteps tapping)

Andrew.

Please, take a seat.

Enghsh?

Americans.

You look like a couple of priests.

(Laughs)

We're not priests.

Have you ever seen two priests wearing tracksuits?

I've seen everything.

By the way, did you know I have clients

who insist I am proof of the existence of god?

Interesting theory.

But they're wrong.

They see me because they can't see far.

Can you see far?

Yes.

And I have proof of the existence of god.

Show me, ma'am.

Show me, I implore you.

(Camera clicks)

Your eyes.

Your eyes, sir.

They are proof of the existence of god.

We should go.

Good night, ma'am.

Dussolier: Do you remember the time

sister Mary took us to the custodian's house?

Billy's mother on her deathbed?

Lenny: Yeah, [remember I don't want to talk about it.

Dussolier: It's pointless for you to go on pretending nothing happened, Lenny.

Something extraordinary happened in that room.

I don't feel like talking about it.

You're my best friend, and I don't understand you.

Why don't you want to talk about it?

I only want to talk about things that I understand.

Don't you get that?

So, what if I asked you to become prefect for the congregation for the clergy?

Select candidates for the priesthood from all over the world.

Would you do it?

What if I were to refuse?

Then I'd be forced to make recourse to my sovereign power.

I am the pope now.

(Chuckles)

Dussolier: I want to tell you something.

It's something I've never told you before.

Lenny: So tell me now.

When you first came to the orphanage, I was watching.

From a window, and...

I don't remember your father, but I remember your mother.

What did she look like?

(Dussolier sighs)

Her hair was parted in the middle and long on the sides.

(Clicks tongue)

And her eyes were bright...

And impassive.

Which made me think she was sad.

That's exactly how I dream of her.

Always.

Why didn't you ever tell me?

When we were boys I thought...

I thought it would cause you too much pain.

It causes me too much pain even now.

(Bell tolling faintly)

(Sniffles)

Did you want to run away?

Come on. Let's go back inside.

I haven't said anything to the cardinal secretary of state.

Thank you so much, sister Mary.

(Machinery humming)

(Hammers pounding)

Monsignor, I forgive you for having betrayed our confidences

to the cardinal secretary of state.

Your holiness, how did you find out?

I forgive you for being an alcoholic,

and I recommend that you stop drinking

now that you're about to set off on a challenging mission to america.

Your holiness,

what else do you know about me?

I know everything a powerful man needs to know

about the people he works with.

And I, not voiello,

am the most powerful man of all.

And what else do you know about me, holy father?

What else is there to know?

(Breathing heavily)

You always talk to me about my holiness,

the miracle I supposedly performed,

but you never tell me anything about the only miracle I need.

The miracle that doesn't happen and never will.

Seeing my parents again.

You must have faith in god, your holiness,

and you will see them again.

I'm getting old.

Time is turning into a thin sheet.

And seeing them dead is of no interest to me.

I'm only interested in the living.

Holy father,

I beg you to reconsider your decision to send to america monsignor Gutierrez.

The kurtwell case needs to be examined by a person of substantial reputation.

Gutierrez is not up to it.

He has none of the necessary expertise,

and moreover, he's fragile and emotional,

and the Holy See will send the world the message

that it does not take seriously the problem of child abuse

or, even worse, is not interested in it.

And there is another problem.

I didn't want to tell you, but now I'm forced to.

Your holiness, Gutierrez is an alcoholic.

I know.

And there is also another secret.

What if I knew that one, too?

What if I know all your secrets, your eminence?

What were you hoping to achieve? Start a scandal?

The idea of threatening that poor girl who suffers from sterility...

Will you stop at nothing, your eminence?

Don't you know the meaning of the word "pity"?

- How far were you willing to go? - (Breathing heavily)

Would you have blackmailed the holy father?

Would you have gone so far as to give those pictures to the press,

to insinuate a nonexistent sexual relationship between me and that young woman?

You haven't figured out that your old methods

only work on the old popes who were afraid of losing consensus.

They don't work with me.

(Voiello breathing heavily)

I am the young pope.

I put no stock in consensus.

Who told...

Who told you all these things?

You put on airs as a politician.

You still haven't figured out

you've run up against a politician far cannier than you.

Holy father, I have already destroyed those pictures.

It's true,

I was thinking of using old, violent methods,

but I repented in time, holy father.

I repented before I could sin.

The wonderful words that you said to that young woman illuminated me.

I implore you, forgive me.

I need your forgiveness.

You don't need my forgiveness. You need my compassion.

Now, stop making a spectacle of yourself. Get off.

- (Gasps) - Man: Holy father.

The papal tiara has arrived from Washington. It's in perfect condition.

Prepare the sistine chapel.

The time has come to address the cardinals.

(Sexyand / know/t playing)

(Music continues)

(Music stops)

(Crowd murmuring)

(Choir singing)

They're still there.

I'm gonna turn around and they'll still be there.

I'm gonna turn around now, and I'll see them.

Mom and dad, waiting for me.

(Sighs)

(Singing ends abruptly)

Knock, knock.

Knock, knock.

We're not in.

Brother cardinals, from this day fonnard,

we're not in, no matter who's knocking on our door.

We're in, but only for god.

From this day fonnard,

everything that was wide open is gonna be closed.

Evangelization?

We've already done it.

Ecumenicalism?

Been there, done that.

Tolerance?

Doesn't live here anymore.

It's been evicted.

It vacated the house for the new tenant

who has diametrically opposite tastes in decorating.

We've been reaching out to others for years now.

(Whispers) It's time to stop.

We're not going anywhere.

We are here, because what are we?

We are cement, and cement doesn't move.

We are cement without windows, so we don't look to the outside world.

"Only the church possesses the charisma of truth,"

said Saint ignatius of antioch.

And he was right.

We have no reason to look out.

Instead...

Look over there.

What do you see?

That's the door.

The only way in.

Small and extremely uncomfortable.

And anyone who wants to know us has to find out how to get through that door.

Brother cardinals,

we need to go back to being prohibited,

inaccessible, and mysterious.

That's the only way we will once again become desirable.

That's the only way great love stories are born.

And I don't want any more part-time believers.

I want great love stories.

I want fanatics for god.

Because fanaticism is love.

Everything else is strictly a surrogate,

and it stays outside the church.

(Breathes deeply)

With the attitudes of the last papacy,

the church won for itself great expressions of fondness from the masses.

It became popular.

"Isn't that wonderful?" You might be thinking.

We received plenty of esteem and lots of friendship.

I have no idea what to do with the friendship of the whole wide world.

What I want is absolute love and total devotion to god.

Could that mean a church only for the few?

That's a hypothesis, and a hypothesis isn't the same as reality.

But even this hypothesis isn't so scandalous.

I say, better to have a few that are reliable

than have a great many that are distractible and indifferent.

The public squares have been jam-packed,

but the hearts have been emptied of god.

You can't measure love with numbers.

You can only measure it in terms of intensity.

In terms of blind loyalty to the imperative.

Fix that word firmly in your souls.

"Imperative."

From this day forth, that's what the pope wants.

That's what the church wants.

That's what god wants.

And so the liturgy will no longer be a social engagement.

It will become hard work.

And sin will no longer be forgiven at will.

I don't expect any applause from you.

There will be no expression of thanks in this chapel.

None from me and none from you.

Courtesy and good manners are not the business of men of god.

What I do expect

is that you will do what I've told you to do.

There is nothing outside your obedience to pius xiii.

Nothing except hell.

A hell you may know nothing about...

But I do.

(Whispers) Because I built it.

Right behind that door.

Hell.

These past few days,

I've had to build hell for you. That's why I come to you belatedly.

I know you will obey,

because you've already figured out that this pope isn't afraid to lose the faithful

if they've been even slightly unfaithful,

and that means this pope does not negotiate

on anything or with anyone.

And this pope cannot be blackmailed.

From this day forth,

the word "compromise" has been banished from the vocabulary.

I just deleted it.

When Jesus willingly mounted the cross,

he was not making compromises.

Neither am I.

(Breathes deeply)

Amen.

(Chair scrapes)

(Sighs)

(Whispers) Jump.

Esther: Holy father,

I have to confess

a horrible thing I did.

Confess your secrets to god alone, Esther.

Even those that have to do with me.

There's only one thing I can do for you.

Forgive you.

Forgive you always.

Esther: Holy father...

I feel it.

Yes.

- I feel it. - Yes.

You're right. I feel it too.

(Singing in corsican)

(Continues singing)

(Speaks Italian)

- Bye zizi', thanks!

(Door closes)

(Clears throat)

(Keyboard clacking)

(Speaks Italian)

- Gentlemen,

(clears throat)

What an honor!

To what do I owe...

The reason...

For the visit?

- Tonino pettola,

the reason for this visit...

Is that you...

Have busted our balls!