Original subtitles

♪ When I said it out loud it wasn't as strong as it was in my head ♪

♪ I tried not to think about it, so it came back louder ♪

♪ I think it's been about a year since I became a snob ♪

♪ Decided not to play along, so it grew bigger ♪

♪ Me and my head have become very, very, very close ♪

♪ We decided not to tell you, to tell you about it ♪

♪ We're just gonna play it safe Do what we know ♪

♪ Play it cool, lay it low Not tell you about it ♪

♪ And here I am playing by myself ♪

♪ Me and my superiority complex ♪

♪ And here I am playing by myself ♪

♪ Me and my inferiority contest ♪

♪ I'm not winning, but I'm having a very good time ♪

♪ You can call me ♪

♪ You can call me ♪

♪ You can call me the good time girl ♪

♪ When I said it out loud, it didn't sound as good ♪

♪ I couldn't be as proud as my original thought ♪

♪ I'm not trying to whisper what should be bought ♪

♪ But I can't imagine being out of control ♪

♪ I knocked off the top, my head and I ♪

♪ When I'm all alone but I'm in my prime ♪

♪ Don't want the throne when I'm doing just fine ♪

♪ Just as long as I'm having a real good time ♪

♪ You can call me ♪

♪ You can call me ♪

♪ You can call me the good time girl ♪

Good morning! You're listening to Radio 103.

It's six on the dot, time for "Questions of the Day"

when we read out the questions that have been keeping you up at night.

We've selected the ones most asked.

So here we go.

Number one: how did Pope Francis II die?

Number two: does anyone believe the story of his sudden illness?

Number three: didn't the same thing happen to Pope John Paul I?

Number four: isn't it true that Pope John Paul I

caused more than a few problems for the upper echelons at the Vatican?

Number five: does history repeat itself?

Number six: who will the new Pope be?

Come here.

On your knees.

Just don't get me dirty.

I have to change.

I'm off.

Come back with the new Pope in your pocket.

By the way, they say Brannox is very attractive.

Then I will use all my brazen charm to persuade him.

Don't get me all excited once again.

I've got a lot of projects to propose to Brannox.

You only have one project in life, Tomas.

To give me pleasure.

Well, Voiello

more than one article insinuates

between the lines, of course

that you may have had a hand

in Francis II's death.

I can't blame them.

If I were in their shoes, I would be suspicious of me as well.

- Are you nervous? - I am always nervous.

I am not a bland man, you know.

What makes you nervous?

Haste.

I agree, haste drove us to make a rather questionable choice.

Francis II.

We have to convince Brannox to accept

before we return to Rome for Francis II's funeral.

Why do you need him to agree in advance?

We can't afford to vote for him in the conclave and then, perhaps

he doesn't accept - there is a risk.

I am told he is a difficult man full of doubts

and lofty.

I want a new Pope on the first vote.

Sir John is a priest of the highest calibre.

A true father figure, wise and well-balanced.

We spent many fruitful days of serene study together

during the European synod.

They say sometimes he tends toward depression.

Do you know of a priest who doesn't have this tendency, Eminence?

At any rate, it's astounding how many Anglicans

he has converted to Catholicism. A multitude.

He did not attend the last conclave.

I find this unbecoming.

He wasn't able to attend

because he had to look after his elderly, ill parents.

Speaking of which, he has written me a very moving letter

thirty-six pages, which I would like to share with all of you.

Please.

What would Pius XIII say?

We have forgotten about Pius XIII.

I have not forgotten him, Gutierrez

rather, I am trying to honour him.

Our beloved Lenny began his papacy

animated by intransigence, but in the end he softened.

He was searching for the middle way.

Which is why we are going to see Sir John Brannox.

He is the great theorist of the middle way.

First conscience, then the papal infallibility.

First the softness of compromise, then the dogma.

This, roughly speaking, is Sir John's philosophy

and the only philosophy that can placate

the sex scandals

the terrorist threats, the drift toward idolatry

of Pius XIII

and the dreadful suspicions regarding

the death of Francis II.

We are under siege, do you understand that?

Which is why we are at haste.

And which is why we have only one viable candidate

Sir John Brannox.

The famous statue of Cardinal Newman!

I've only heard about that, but I've never seen it before.

- Who's he? - What do you mean, who's he?

Sir John's philosophical, spiritual mentor.

It's him!

It's not him.

We are the Vatican delegation.

His Eminence is expecting us.

As his Eminence always says

"We are all expected sooner or later."

I told you he tends toward depression.

His Eminence sends his apologies but he was extremely tired.

And he never goes to bed later than 10:30.

He is looking forward to seeing you all in the morning

so allow me to show you to your rooms.

Excuse me, but it's very important that we see him right away.

We were planning on leaving early tomorrow morning.

Impossibile.

Sir John never alters his habits, not even in the face of death.

Are there ghosts here?

Yes.

I felt lonely, all of a sudden.

But if I let you come in now

we'll feel even more lonely...

later.

You made the right decision.

Pleasure leads to pain.

- What's that music? - I think it's him.

Sir John.

- What's he like? Have you seen him? - Not yet.

He was tired.

What is it, a harpsichord?

No, it's a harp.

You're wrong, it's a harpsichord.

Enough.

These noblemen are looking at me.

Lick me.

We'll never be apart, will we, John?

Never, Adam. Never.

There you are, Eminence.

I've finally found you.

They have been sitting there like that

without moving

an hour and ten minutes.

What is it, some sort of embalming process?

No, it's unbearable grief.

Is the one in the tomb their son?

Sir John's twin brother, Adam.

Even after 40 years

the duke and duchess will sit there like that

for another eight hours.

And then, at sunset

Duchess Brannox will sigh, just once

and the servants will know that it's time to go back inside.

And it's time for you to go inside as well, Eminence.

Sir John is waiting for you.

Finally.

Do you know where I might find Sir John?

You just have, Eminence.

Hmm.

So, here we are

faced with the frightful task of having to converse.

Unfortunately, they still have not discovered

any better way to make someone's acquaintance.

Nonsense, of course they have. What about love at first sight

followed by amorous passion

savage and silent?

That would make me uncomfortable

so let's stick with an old-fashioned conversation.

- I am... - You...

are the star, everyone knows who you are.

His Eminence, Cardinal Angelo Voiello.

Do you know how many times I read your delightful "Man Behind the Scenes"?

- No, how many? - Once.

Because I said to myself, if I read this book again

there is a good chance I will turn decidedly bad.

So, how do you find me?

- I would say well, Eminence. - I'm chuffed.

It's only others who truly know how I am.

I imagine that you can well imagine the reason for our visit.

I have no imagination, Eminence.

So, in order to lead an acceptable existence

I've learnt to pare down the questions.

Then allow me to inform you...

Have you already seen my parents?

I believe I caught a glimpse of them.

Oh. You were very fortunate.

It is not easy to intercept them.

They live in the other wing of the castle, the north wing

so as to scrupulously avoid ever having to see me.

Family dynamics can be wearing.

Everything can be wearing here.

The weather, the food, the monotony, London.

Do you know why my parents never ever wish to see me?

No, why?

Because they believe I did not do enough

to save the life of my twin brother Adam

their favourite son, on a cold winter's day back in 1985.

I am sorry.

Oh, there's little to be sorry about now.

My parents are only doing what all humans do

blaming everything on others.

However, at least we Catholics blame everything on God.

Actually, we give Him all the credit.

Is that not the same thing?

Tell me...

how much of his life does a Secretary of State

spend informing himself?

All of it, even when I pray

I inform myself.

That joke is terribly funny

even though I did not laugh.

How is our beloved Pius XIII?

Stable.

But still in coma, unfortunately.

Pius XIII was a great Pope.

I wept when I learned his condition

was irreversible.

Oh, how I wept.

Do you weep, Eminence?

Far too often

more than one would expect of the Secretary of State.

And what do you weep for?

For Hollywood romances and friends who suffer.

And you? What do you weep for?

For the inexhaustible imperfection of the world.

It must not be easy being you.

It is not.

I want to make one thing perfectly clear

from the start.

I loved my brother Adam.

Sir John...

when will I see you again?

A question a lover would ask, Eminence.

Last night, in my room

I felt the clear presence of Pius XIII next to me.

What sort of woman do you think she is?

Pardon my vulgarity, sir

but she... is a beauty.

Why did you not bring me my box last night?

I did bring it, Sir John.

I left it on your bedside table

in the usual place.

I couldn't find it.

Though I managed to fall asleep anyway.

Perhaps it's a sign.

Perhaps.

They're coming back early.

Strange.

So, Eminence, the reason for our visit...

How did Francis II die, actually?

Heart attack.

- Like John Paul I. - Exactly.

One of Giambattista Vico's ever-recurring cycles of human history.

Your brazen tendency to oversimplify alarms me, Voiello.

I suffered when Great Britain voted in favour of Brexit.

Another small step toward the de-Christianisation of Europe.

You already sound like a Pope, Eminence.

And you like an aspiring Secretary of State, Eminence.

Do tell, Gutierrez

how is the weather in Rome these days?

I haven't been there since I was young

when I was a student at Gregorian University.

Constantly mild, Eminence.

Not here.

Here, the weather is a torment

and life ends up adapting to the weather.

Rome is different, Rome is joyful

and life ends up adapting itself to Rome.

How large is your estate, Eminence?

I've no idea.

Around 2,500 acres or so, I would have thought.

The Vatican is only 108.

It would be so much easier to manage, Eminence.

Quite frankly, I'm astounded at the method you chose

to make me such a proposal.

As if you're offering me a position as CEO.

They are pretending to be unaware of the enormous spiritual weight

that such a mission requires.

To be Pope, Eminence, is a martyrdom.

And after Pius XIII...

it's a burden.

And after Francis II...

it's suspect.

Thank you for your precious help, Gutierrez

but being Pope is not a martyrdom

it is an enormous privilege.

Eminence, I am astounded at the results you have obtained.

All those Anglicans converting to Catholicism.

How did you do it?

By talking about other things.

For years, these rooms were

a temple for light-hearted encounters.

People expect a priest to talk about religion

but I knew that a revealed religion must be poetic.

So I would speak with them about golf, Hölderlin

Montale and the Arsenal football club

and the way women have of crossing their legs.

Poetry.

And they would discover what it means to be Catholic.

It means being everything, for everything belongs to the grace of God.

I could hear myself talking

and realised that I was playing a part.

Good actors know that, at a certain point

it is time to withdraw from the stage.

But great actors die on stage

because they never stop improving.

And growing, I know.

"Growth is the only evidence of life"

Cardinal Newman used to say.

But the everlasting question is: do I want to grow?

Do I want to live?

You want me to be the next Pope.

The Church is naked

and you believe the most suitable outfit

in which to clothe her is my famous middle way.

But, since the Church is already naked

before dressing her again, you need to examine her

the way a doctor would.

Diagnosing the Church is a colossal enterprise, Voiello

which you underestimate gravely.

It is essential to distinguish

between what is physiological

and what is pathological

in the body of the Church.

There. His Eminence has just explained to you

the basic principle of the middle way.

Will you...

take the stage again, Sir John?

I don't know.

I don't know.

You oversimplify things, Voiello.

Today was the first day in a long while

I was unable to speak with God.

The words that came to me were ugly.

Ugly?

How?

False.

And just like that

the flower blossomed

right before my eyes.

I placed a hand on my belly and whispered

"I feel it, Holy Father

I feel it."

And Pius XIII...

without looking at me, closed his eyes and said

in a voice filled with grace

"I feel it too, Ester.

Yes, you are pregnant

and you will have a beautiful baby boy.

But please

let's not call it a miracle

let's let mystery remain mystery."

Beautiful.

Beautiful, Ester.

Your story gives us joy

it restores our hope.

Yes.

Hope!

Two hundred euros? We agreed on 500.

Please, don't you start busting my balls now too, I'm already late.

Two hundred's all I can give you.

Besides, you already told that miracle bullshit a thousand times

on every TV in the world.

Do you like it?

Do you come here to pray or to drink?

Well, first he drinks

then he prays to God to help him stop.

Barolo Anversano.

- To... Brannox? - To Brannox.

You're really sure he'll be the new Pope?

I've got an insider, very reliable.

- Who? - My wife.

Your plan is brilliant, Tomas.

You give new lustre to the term "wheeler-dealer".

I still don't understand why you're so sure you can get into Brannox's good graces.

Relax, Guicciardini, relax.

I'm the Minister of Economy and Finance

do you realise how exposed I am?

So please don't tell me to relax, because that only makes me more upset.

Guicciardini, look, the point is this

it's not me who will want to get into Brannox's good graces

it's Brannox, the new Pope

who will want to get into my good graces.

I don't understand.

In the Vatican, whoever knows the Pope's secret

becomes, in reality, the Pope.

Now...

guess who the only person is who knows the Pope's unspeakable secret?

You?

You're a quick learner, Duilio, for a populist.

What's his secret?

Can you picture these photos on lighters, keychains, ashtrays?

I can imagine a healthy sale of papal gadgets.

Can't you?

I am thinking bigger than that.

I can imagine a healthy trade of souls.

He did finally say

"I don't know."

If you ask me, "I don't know" means yes.

But he is still so wary

so diffident.

He's studying us.

But we are supposed to be studying him.

What is there to study?

He has all the necessary qualifications to make a great Pope

the soporific calm

that is in perfect harmony with the Vatican's heartbeat

the charisma to make people forget the recent past

the moral equilibrium

to defuse the turbulence of the present.

And what about the future?

Don't be so naive, Aguirre.

The Church doesn't have time to worry about the future.

What's more, he's persuasive, seductive.

He envelops you.

The man seems to be made of velvet.

What do you think, Eminence?

I think we have to hurry

we don't have much time.

We must raise the question directly.

Leave the talking to me.

Ma'am, Eminences...

Sir John would like to speak with you.

Eminence...

Might I have a word... in private?

I've been looking after Sir John since he was a boy.

He is a magnificent person.

But he's also... fragile.

Delicate.

A piece of porcelain.

Beautiful, glazed and moulded by great artists, but...

he's porcelain, nevertheless.

His life has been burdened with crippling sorrows

and unspeakable disappointments.

We will not be another disappointment.

Sir John will become Pope at the first round of voting.

It will be the swiftest conclave in history, I promise.

I am a fragile, delicate man.

True. A piece of porcelain, am I right?

A beautiful piece of porcelain.

Perhaps what you need is a man of steel.

No.

That is what lay governments and stupid people need.

We are the Church, Sir John.

Our duty is love.

Do you know what I crave?

- What? - That you would speak to me of this love.

Now...

I will truly be honest, Sir John.

I am rather weak on that topic.

I would risk ruining everything.

In that case, perhaps

Monsignor Gutierrez will speak to me of love.

Love is an abstract concept

but a necessary one.

Like happiness, like intelligence...

like God.

When I was a boy...

a man took advantage of me

and as he did so

he would say...

"God does not exist."

And I would answer back in God's place

"Even if He doesn't exist

we desperately need to believe He's there."

And you, Eminence? What is love to you?

A vagrant lies dying on a street corner

the government says to him: "I'll help you."

The doctor says to him: "I'll cure you."

His daughter says to him: "I'll give you money."

His friend says to him: "I'll share my wine with you."

And the Church says nothing to him.

The Church is thinking about him.

Will you accept, Eminence?

Tonight, I will search for the answer hidden in my heart.

Tonight, the Church is thinking about that vagrant

and I will be thinking about the Church.

♪ You're making me better ♪

♪ You're making me bright ♪

♪ You're making me fuller ♪

♪ You're making me tight ♪

♪ I'm believing in order ♪

♪ I practice, I preach ♪

♪ You're making me over ♪

♪ You're making me reach ♪

♪ I wanted to grow up and live a good life ♪

♪ You're making me show up ♪

♪ And now I want to be on time ♪

♪ You're making me aware ♪

♪ You're making me brave ♪

♪ And I'm talking, talking, talking to my higher self ♪

♪ I wouldn't do it for anyone else ♪

♪ I wouldn't do it for anyone else ♪