All language subtitles for newpope4

Beautiful baby, your nephew.

Thank you, Holy Father, um...

Appreciate that.

Oh, uh sorry...

I brought a gift for you,
a painting that I did.

Thank you.

- Interesting, thank you.
- You're welcome.

So...

You look a bit older,
it might just be the beard.

I had a beard since I was 31.

Well, I remember this amazing speech
that you gave in Venice

but I don't remember you having a beard then.

That was Pius XIII.

Oh.

So, who are you?

I'm John Paul III.

Oh... oh...

Oh...

Please forgive me, Holy Father,
you gotta understand

I've been in the studio
holed up for months

and I don't really keep track
of the news, so...

What helps?

Potassium phosphate

mixed with a capsule of Xablon.

So you're quite
the pharmaceutical adventurer.

So, you're not Pius XIII?

No, I'm the new Pope.

May I ask what happened
to the old Pope?

He's in coma

and he had a successor,
Francis II

and he died.

Wow...

Have you gone to visit him?

- Who?
- The Pope in a coma.

No, not yet.

Maybe you should.

♪ 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 ♪

Brothers!

Many...

far too many members of the clergy

believe that love is an infinite meadow

and they're allowed to pick
all the flowers they want.

But they are not picking flowers

they are ripping plants from the earth

and assuring by their actions

that in the scorched and barren soil
they've defiled

nothing more will ever grow.

This is what our church risks becoming.

The world wants to see
paedophile priests hanged.

But Jesus would not want this,
Jesus is civility

and the Church cannot,
must not abandon her children

especially if they are ill.

But...

if they are ill...

she must distance them

from the heart
of ecclesiastical life, forever.

Forever!

I know it sounds trite

but seeing you surrounded
by all these men

makes me swell with pride.

Is that what we're calling it now?

Pride?

Your Holiness...

when you have a minute,
I would like to show you something.

A gift from me to you, Your Holiness.

They told me you only love Bentleys.

So this is the way the real world works.

Yes, this is how it works.

I hope that you are not offended,
Your Holiness, it is only a welcome gift

one that expects nothing in return.

What could I possibly
give in return, Eminence?

I'm only primus inter pares.

To be concrete, you need
to make appointments.

I am never concrete.

Do you remember, Your Holiness when...

when we slept in the same room
after the seminary?

What happy memories!

We were young then.

All I remember about my youth
is my brother Adam.

Do you still sleep with that silver box
next to your bed?

Actually, you're right, of course.

We did sleep in the same room.

I recall you had an endless stream
of young visitors

day and night, no?

If you'll allow me, Holy Father,
I would be happy to inform you

sometime,
of certain habits inside the Vatican.

I very much allow you, Eminence.

Do it now, do tell, straightaway.

I'm curious.

In the Vatican, the choice is between
blackmail and benevolence.

I always prefer the second option.

Don't you?

I never answer important questions
in the evening, Eminence.

Especially after three glasses
of champagne.

Matter resolved.

A quid pro quo
in the chain of command.

- May I swear?
- Just once.

Like fuck it is!
The matter's not resolved at all.

Reverend Mother,
Don Cavallo informed me

that you had requested 200 euro

in order to take Lisette's mother
to Lourdes.

And I have just given you 200 euro.

What we want now is not
what we wanted before.

Our requests have changed.

You don't understand.

I understand everything,
Reverend Mother.

But you need to be more clear.

We sisters have joined together
and we now understand the difference

between charity and rights.

I am all ears.

We...

demand respect, social, moral

and economic recognition
for the duties we sisters perform.

We want to be welcomed
into the bosom of the Church

to be granted a more active ministry

including administering the sacraments.

And, in general,
we expect the male clergy

to adapt a psychologically mature attitude
in its relations with us female members.

Please, clarify this last point for me.

Do you really need me to elaborate

on the sort of things
your brothers are capable of?

No, not now, I don't have time.

But a detailed written account
would prove most useful.

- That you shall have?
- No! You won't.

It's a trap, Reverend Mother.

We will be dismissed as tattlers

and he will have a record
of all his accomplices' depravities

the better to blackmail them with.

Spectacular, the talent!

This will be a long war

though it will end as they all do,
with my victory.

But you, Sister Lisette

will make a formidable adversary.

You can bet on that.

- Now what are you doing?
- I'm dismissing you.

- And we will carry on with our strike.
- Fine.

And we priests will learn how to cook
and wash and iron our robes.

It's about time.

Be careful, Sister Lisette

your rights are one thing

the rites of the Church are another.

The former are negotiable,
for they belong to men.

The latter are not,
for they belong to God.

That's better.

You haven't joined your sisters' protest?

No.

Me no.

Why not?

Because I decided to believe in you.

What are your sisters asking for?

Respect.

Don't you need respect?

I have always had it.

I work with popes.

Are you mad at me?

I couldn't.

You're just a Sunday morning Christian.

What does that mean?

Ready to do good only if
you don't have to get your hands dirty.

You're like those philanthropists
who think they'll go to heaven

if they give away a tiny fraction
of their dirty money.

You're being unfair, I tried.

No, you didn't try, Ester.

You just deluded some people
who are truly suffering.

When will I see you again?

Here I am, Holy Father,
forgive me for being a little late

but the Napoli coach's press conference
dragged on and on.

Brevity of speech
is not his strong point.

You, Voiello, have the great gift
of informing me

of things that would not
interest me even if I were you.

So, what is this about the nuns

occupying the Sistine Chapel?

Every six months or so,
the sisters remember

that somewhere
in some parallel universe

they too could say Mass, but don't worry

I have the situation under control.

Don't be too hard on them, Voiello.

The proper amount, that way
they will not be too hard on me.

Marilyn Manson doesn't know who I am.

Marilyn Manson doesn't know
who he is.

The Church I have in mind
must be better at informing people.

Every Marilyn in the world should know
reflexively who the Pope is.

This is not vanity, this is necessity.

As for them knowing who they are,
there's always time for that.

Emory Kitsworth wants to interview you.

An in-depth, wide-ranging conversation

exclusive coverage on the Times website, live

then re-broadcast an hour later
on every TV channel in the world.

So, voilà, now every Marilyn
in the world will know you.

Hmm, an appealing idea.

I have another one.

I wish to pay a visit to Pius XIII.

- Dutiful.
- Dangerous.

To have two Popes

Pius XIII and John Paul III,
together in one photograph

wouldn't do much
to clear up the confusion.

That photograph will never be taken.

My visit to Pius XIII
will be strictly private.

My face will only be seen in public

on my way to and from the hospital.

In storytelling that is called
"powerful deference".

My admiration for well-read women
will never fade.

Perhaps that's why I don't miss Megan.

♪ Green light ♪

♪ He's headed over to the West Side ♪

♪ He said he'd be around midnight ♪

♪ And that's alright ♪

♪ Red wine ♪

♪ I got this bottle from a friend of mine ♪

♪ I've been saving it for someone special ♪

♪ Been saving it for tonight ♪

♪ Should I hide my excitement? ♪

♪ Put on make-up or wear a dress? ♪

♪ Should I hold back? ♪

♪ Or should I let go? ♪

♪ Should I put on a record ♪

♪ Or should I just play the radio? ♪

♪ Should I? ♪

♪ Should I? ♪

Is there any possibility

he could wake up?

Based on the knowledge
we have now, no.

No possibility.

His hand was so warm.

I found that comforting.

He is still alive...

even though he doesn't know it.

♪ Should I hide my excitement? ♪

♪ Put on make-up or wear a dress? ♪

♪ Should I hold back? ♪

♪ Or should I let go? ♪

♪ Should I put on a record? ♪

♪ Or should I just play the radio? ♪

♪ Should I? ♪

♪ Should I just take it slow? ♪

♪ Should I just take it slow? ♪

♪ When I just want to rush in ♪

♪ I just want to rush in ♪

♪ And I just want to rush in ♪

♪ I just want to rush in love ♪

♪ Should I hide my excitement? ♪

♪ Put on make-up or wear a dress? ♪

In Venice, my authority did not turn
into authoritativeness.

If I may, Your Holiness,
it is actually the opposite.

Your authoritativeness
did not turn into authority.

- What should I have done?
- Never mingle with idolaters.

Had you asked my advice
that is what I would have told you.

What do you think, Sofia?

You cannot please everyone,
Holy Father.

If I do not please, I cannot seduce.

If I do not seduce, I cannot influence.

If I do not influence, I repent.

Of what?

Of everything.

- Do I please you?
- Immensely.

May I ask you an indiscreet ques...

I will never tell you what the woman
whispered in my ear, Eminence.

Appointments.

Our dear Sofia reconfirmed
as Director of Communications.

The masterful Voiello reconfirmed
as Secretary of State.

Gutierrez will be my adviser.

And now an innovation...

my new personal secretary
in charge of creativity...

the most eminent Cardinal Spalletta.

What would you have me do, Holy Father?

Everything I do not wish to do

which I can assure you
will be rather a lot.

In terms of creativity,
what do you propose, Spalletta?

I would commission Christo
to make a gigantic contemporary cross

to be exhibited in St Peter's Square.

A classic extemporary operation,
Holy Father

and also quite costly

nor is it devoid of the age-old stench
of corruption.

So, not a good idea?

Spalletta?

Hmm...

A momentous diplomatic visit
to North Korea.

That's already been done,
I would be the second.

I've been playing
the second fiddle my whole life, so...

not a good idea, Spalletta.

A smashing success, Spalletta!

And now I will instruct

my personal secretary in private.

- Disappointed?
- No.

Not in the least, Holy Father.

I won't deny that I aspired
to become Secretary of State

but personal secretary

allows me to work closely with you

which is what really matters.

I'm only thinking of your own good,
Holy Father.

For your good coincides
with the good of the Church.

So, Francis II's death...
what do you make of it?

Did he really die of natural causes?

Do you really want to know what I think?

Hmm...

Probably not.

Voiello probably had a hand in it.

So we share the same suspicions.
What do you say we look into it?

Just to keep ourselves
from getting bored

and to keep me
from meeting the same fate.

May I offer you
some impartial advice, Holy Father?

Of course.

I would let it drop.

Hmm?

I will not deny
my longstanding antipathy for Voiello

yet I feel I must warn you
that making enquiries about him

would mean setting yourself
against him.

Which is the last thing
you want to do here in the Vatican.

Even the walls know that.

What makes him so dangerous?

No one really knows.

But the fact is...

every time someone tries to oppose him

he has ended up in pieces, literally.

Literally.

Voiello is helped by the Lord

Holy Father.

But...

what is difficult to understand is...

who is this Lord?

Is he divine...

or is he human?

John!

Sir John...

what did that woman in Venice
say to you?

Good day, sisters.
You wanted to see me?

Actually, we wanted to see you
five hours ago.

Forgive me for having kept you waiting.

The consequences of the strike,
everything is moving more slowly now.

So, what can I do for you?

To start, fix the Wi-Fi.

If only I could, but the server is down.

That happens occasionally
and the nun usually repairs it

but that nun is currently on strike.

Are you saying we have to suspend
our strike if we want internet?

It would seem that I am.

Why don't you call in
an outside technician?

Because here in the Vatican
we don't like waste

and because we can live just fine
without Wi-Fi.

We are the oldest institution
in the world, Sister Lisette

not the Apple campus.

Reverend Mother, you seem tired.
So am I.

I am not sleeping well, are you?

Try this. Chamomile, it helps, I've found.

If we suspend our strike

what will you give us in exchange?

Wi-Fi.

And our other demands? How about them?

I will bring them
to the Holy Father's attention

as I do with every request
that comes across my desk.

Do not overestimate my power,
Sister Lisette

I am merely a paper pusher.

We wish to meet with the Holy Father
ourselves to explain our position.

A sacrosanct right.

You merely need to file
an official request to see him.

- File with whom?
- With me.

I'm confused, what exactly
is the purpose of this meeting

which you have defined as both urgent
and highly confidential?

We are repealing
the eight per thousand law.

The tax the Italian people pay
to maintain the clergy.

This is a declaration
of war on the Church.

No, no, no, it's a necessary step
towards saving the Italian people.

How?

One, our finances
are in incredible disarray.

- The EU won't grant us any relief.
- A surmountable problem.

I will talk with the EU.

Two, we were elected on the basis

of a clear and simple platform,
to do away with privilege.

Which is exactly what we have done.

We've put the Church
at the bottom of the list

but now your time is up.

I see, so the issue is not my confusion

but your conviction.

- I take that as a compliment.
- Take it as a threat.

Your conviction conveys
a distinct lack of respect

for the only thing that matters to us
here in the Vatican.

What is that?

Mystery.

If they go through with it,
it will be the end of us.

The Church would be poor.

What do you advise we do, Holy Father?

Nothing.

As the great Cardinal Newman
used to say

"Christian virtues are poetic.

Gentleness and grace,

compassion, joy and modesty.

Whereas common, coarse sentiments
are rhetorical tools.

Anger, indignation, emulation,
combative spirit

the love of independence."

We must fly high.

We shall hold onto the poetry

and leave the rhetoric to others.

Holy Father, with all due respect

I'm afraid Newman may not be enough.

What a shame, Eminence.

What a shame.

The world once again confirms

it has no use for poetry.

But I am not the world.

That is not me.

You're back.

Yes, Ester, I came back

to test your righteousness.

I should have stayed at home
to loll about my own house

rather than having
to loll about in someone else's.

This is your house

and I will make it
more comfortable for you.

Listen...

I can convince the Minister of Economy

to delay the measure

delay it until the government falls.

At which point we will be safe.

Holy Father, the eight per thousand

is not the only source of the money
Guicciardini needs.

It can be found elsewhere.

Where?

In our own backyard.

We have our own financial organisation.

Which is free and easy, I gather.

See, Holy Father, you can be concrete
when you want to be.

Don't alter my nature.

- It may kill me.
- So give me a free hand.

I will continue to deal
with the stench of the body

and you with the perfume of the spirit.

An admirable poetic utterance, Eminence.

What must I do?

Thomas Altbruck...

Sofia Dubois' husband.

Appoint him head
of our financial organisation.

Thank you, Holy Father,
for receiving me at this late hour.

I shall always have time for you,
Gutierrez, you're dear to my heart.

I am ready to hear your confession.

Freddie was dressed nicely tonight.

When we were in the hallway,
he took out his keys and...

with the calmness of youth

he opened the door to his room

but first...

he turned and looked at me.

Once inside, he knew what to do.

I didn't.

His confidence excited me.

He got undressed in front of the mirror.

He wasn't looking at me, but...

he knew I was looking at him.

His back...

His bare back...

It was too much...

I could barely bring myself
to look at it, it excited me so.

But at the same time I wanted more.

And it was as...

if there was a wall between us.

But it wasn't an obstacle, that wall.

Please, that's enough.

Yes, enough.

Holy Father, enough.

Freddie satisfied my body.

God satisfies my spirit.

So...

Why do I always feel so empty?

But you are not alone, my friend,
you are not alone.

That is all I can say to you.

This constant sense
of feeling inadequate...

Makes us constantly nervous, I know.

I absolve you of all your sins.

But now you will have to hear
my confession.

In order to stoke my pride,
soothe my insecurities

satisfy my vanity
and salvage my limping papacy

I have taken the first step

in the everlasting garden of sin.

And, coward that I am

I pretended not to see

not to understand

and not to know.

But I do see.

I do understand...

I know.