All language subtitles for All.The.Money.In.The.World.2017.720p.BluRay.x264-DRONES

Ciao, bella!

Come here.

Skinny.

We can cook for you. Pasta.

Mmm?

We'd look after you.

You should give me a discount,
on account of my age.

What's your name?

Paolo.

The street is no place
for a boy like you.

Don't make your
poor mama worry.

Go home.

I can take
care of myself.

Ciao.

Sì.

Get off!

Hey, get the fuck off me!

Hey! Hey!

Mr. Getty.

Mr. Getty.

Sorry, I should
have knocked before coming in.

To the point, Nancy.
The market's open.

He's been
kidnapped. Paul.

Little Paul,
your grandson, in Rome.

They need to speak
with you right now.

The Italian police, the boy's
mother, they're on the phone.

Well, I'm not available.

Excuse me, Mr. Getty?

The door, Nancy.

To be a Getty
is an extraordinary thing.

I know that because
my grandpa told me so.

What do you want?

You see, my grandpa wasn'tjust
the richest man in the world.

He was the richest man
in the history of the world.

Welcome.

My grandpa
was the one who brought the oil

out of the Saudi desert.

Everybody knew it was there.

They just thought
it couldn't be done.

But Grandpa found a way.

He made a deal
with the Bedouin tribes.

But there was so much oil,

there was no ship
big enough to carry it all.

So, my grandfather
invented one.

He called it
"The supertanker."

It's been reported
that you are the first man in history

with a fortune in excess
of a billion dollars.

I have no idea.

But if you can count
your money, you're not a billionaire.

Yeah.

I'm telling you
this so you can understand

the things
you're about to see.

And maybe you
can forgive us.

It's like we're
from another planet,

where the force
of gravity is so strong

it bends the light.

We look like you.

But we're not like you.

But we were, once.

Okay. Okay.

Okay?

Make yourself comfortable, huh?

Okay, now you can
take the bag off.

The bag?

Hey.

We'll make friends.

I'll tell you
things about me,

and you tell me
things about you.

I don't want to know
anything about you.

Smart boy.

We talk about you, then.

Yes? Si?

Signora,

we have your son.

God.

Thank you.

Is he all right?

No, signora,

we are rapitori,
kidnappers,

and have him captive.

Is this some kind of joke?

No, no.
Is no joke, signora.

He's okay. He's not harmed.

We will send proof
in the coming days.

Who are you?

I am...

Cinquanta.

Paul is safe.

But it will require

$17 million to release him.

Go to the police if you like.

It makes no difference.

I don't have any money.

Get it
from your father-in-law.

He has all the money
in the world.

Okay.

One, two, three.

- Mom!
- Dad! Mom!

Mom, Dad!

- Wake up!
- No. Stop.

- No, no, no, no, no.
- Come on, Mom!

- Too early.
- Let's go!

We want pancakes.

Back to bed, you little
monsters.

Get out of bed!

Okay.

- Aileen, you want juice?
- What?

There.

Okay. I have work
to do this morning.

You'll have to amuse
yourselves quietly.

And then we're going
Christmas shopping.

- Mark, stop playing with it.
- Love you.

- Yup.
- If it's too hot, just blow on it.

Here you go.

Morning, Dad!

Hair of the dog
might help.

"Hair of the dog"?

What's that, Dad?

Hey, Mom,
where to next?

Dad's Christmas present.

Macy's.

Scarf, hat, hair tonic.

Must
be 80 stories at least.

How many stories is it, Mom?

I don't know, darling.

It's an awful lot of stories.

Whose is it?

Your grandfather's.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. No!

Yes!

- We're still gonna beat you.
- But he's your dad.

I've hardly ever
met the guy.

How is that possible?

- As a kid, at least.
- My father had

no interest in me
whatsoever.

No visits at Christmas,
no birthday phone calls.

Why don't you write
him a letter?

Tell him you've been
looking for a job.

I don't want to be
an oilman. What?

Well, I don't want you
to be one, either, but...

You were never gonna be poor,
Gail, I know that.

We're not poor. We're broke.
There's a difference.

"Dear Dad."

- "Father."
- "Father."

"Dear Father."

"For years,
I struggled to understand

"why you kept your distance.

"Now I realize that
you were giving me

"the chance
to prove myself,

"away from the shadow
of your immense achievements."

Is this how
rich people talk?

Yes, like in Henry James.

Fine, do it your way.

But be sincere.

You don't want that.

Hey, turn off the television.
It's time for dinner.

Come on.

Come on!

- Hi, darling.
- Go back through there.

Your mom and I will carry
it through when it's ready, all right?

- Go take a seat.
- Go sit down.

- It's almost ready.
- Go take your seats.

God, your hands are cold.

Stop.

I'm serious.
The kids are...

Oh, shit.

That'll be
Ms. Canzanelli again,

telling us she's
calling the police.

Who sends
telegrams anymore?

Oh, my God.
Somebody died.

No, baby.
We've been sent for.

Let's go,
let's go. Come on.

Dad, is that
just for us?

Look at that.

Mom, wake up.

Mom, look at that.

Dad, wake up.
It's the Colosseum!

Mom!

Mom, it's the Colosseum.

- Dad.
- Dad?

- Please wake up.
- All right, all right.

Thank you, sir.

Buongiorno.

Welcome.

- Come, darling. It's okay.
- Aileen, this is amazing.

Mama loves you.
It's okay.

It's a lot bigger
than our house.

Wow.

- Mr. Getty.
- Oh, darling.

Mr. Getty, your
visitors are here.

Could you take
the young ones?

Darling. Don't touch that.
Don't touch that.

Please, please.
It's very old.

It's possibly priceless.
Put it down.

"Priceless"?
I deplore that word.

Sorry?

"Dirty and old"
I have no problem with.

In fact, I have
an affection for them,

as they are the words
most frequently used to describe me.

Along with "rich,"
of course.

But "priceless,"
that's something else altogether, yeah.

People say "priceless"
when what they really mean

is that something
is invaluable.

That Minotaur that
you're holding, for instance.

Some experts have told me
that this dates

from 460 BC.

I'm sure those
fuckers at the Met

- would kill to get
- Mom, he just said...

their greasy paws on it.

Go, go.

Would you care to guess
how much I paid for it?

Oh, I couldn't possibly.

$11.23.

I picked it up
at the black market in Heraklion.

Some old cripple
wanted to ask $19 for it.

It took me one hour to bring
him down to his bottom line.

Yes, today, at auction,

I hazard it could
bring $1.2 million.

You see?

Everything has a price.

The great struggle in life

is coming to grips
with what that price is.

I want you to have it.

We couldn't.

You like it, Paul?

That's okay.
I don't need it.

No, I insist.

It's far too extravagant
for a little boy.

Well, for some little
boys, it might be.

Not for a Getty.

"Thank you."

Thank you.

Thanks are for strangers.

You're family.
My family.

Come on.

Come here, come here.

Let me look at you.

Son.

My son.

My grandson.
My daughter.

Well, daughter-in-law,
I'm afraid.

No, you're not some district
judge's daughter anymore.

You're one of us now.

I had to focus
on my mission, you understand?

On my business. And...

I couldn't be weighed down
mentally with a family.

You understand that,
don't you, Paul?

Pardon the laundry.

I just see no
point in paying $10

for room service to come up
and launder my undershorts

when I could do the same thing
for just a few lira.

And it's tax-deductible.

Almost everything is
if you know how to play it.

What the hell are we doing
standing in a hotel room?

We should
be celebrating.

That's what families do.

Right?

"Dear Mr. Getty,

"I'm writing to you because
we're in desperate straits.

"My husband suffers
from a tumor that has caused

"his groin area to swell
to uncontrollable dimensions.

"The doctors say,
without immediate surgery,

"normal movement
will soon become impossible.

"God bless you.
You are a great American.

"Elvira Broadus, Mound City,
Arkansas."

Dear Mrs. Broadus,

if I were to respond

to every request
for money I receive,

I would soon be
as destitute as yourself.

Now...

Next.

"Dear Mr. Getty..."

Surely you can find someone
else to answer your mail.

- I like it, Dad.
- He likes it, son.

The boy wants
to be useful.

I find that admirable.

It's a family business.

Everyone has a role to play.

Which reminds me,
I'm firing Howard Larkin.

And I'm making you executive
vice president of Getty Oil

in charge of European
operations.

What?

All I know about oil
is regular or premium.

You wanted a job.
I'm giving it to you.

Sink or swim.

Yours, J. P. Getty.

Next.

You're a Getty, Paul.

A Getty is special.

A Getty is nobody's fool.

I want to show
you something.

What is it?

It's home.

This is where I slept
with my wife, Sabina.

This is where I ate roast
wild boar with my generals.

And this is where
I made love to my concubines.

You used
to live here?

Yes, in the second century,

when I
was the Emperor Hadrian.

I knew it the very
first moment I visited this place.

I remember every stone

as clearly as if I'd
just come from the store

with a packet of smokes.

I have never felt at home
anywhere on Earth

till I came here.

Well, maybe
they'd let you stay.

Overnight, like.
Get a tent.

Sleeping bag.

I've tried.

I've tried, believe me.

I made them an offer,
a very generous offer.

"Them"?

Them. The Romans.

But then they hear
the name Getty,

and they all get dollar signs
in their eyes, you know.

Yeah, they said
it wasn't for sale.

- Figures.
- Exactly.

That old tactic.

That's what I'm
talking about, Paul.

The blood of emperors
runs through you

as it does through me.

You're a Getty, Paul.

You have a destiny.

My grandfather
wanted our family to become a dynasty.

But Dad could never
control his drinking.

And the first time
he tried drugs at a party,

he was lost.

Dad?

Dad?

Dad?

Mrs. Getty, they're
ready for you now.

Of course,
we expect Ms. Getty

will be seeking a generous
financial settlement,

as is typical
in high-profile divorce cases.

And there's
the custody of the children.

The father is a drug addict
who cannot tie his own shoes.

You would leave the boy
alone in Morocco with a rich degenerate?

The court will take a close interest
in her fitness as a mother.

Ms. Harris suffers

from a common affliction
among the intelligent women,

which is fall in love
with imbroglioni.

Losers.

Bums.

Aside from this,
she's an excellent mother.

You know this
as well as I do.

You are simply stalling,
using the children as a bargaining chip.

We have all
the time in the world.

A deal.

I'm sorry,
did you say something?

The offer I'm about to make
expires at the end

- of business today.
- Gail, please.

- What is your offer, Ms. Harris?
- Nothing.

You pay nothing.

No alimony,
no settlement,

no community
property, nothing.

I don't want any
money for myself,

just child support
for the kids.

I don't get it.

And I want my son on a plane
back from Morocco to me,

tonight, and full custody.

- What's your game?
- I don't want your money.

Everybody wants my money.

You want your money,
I want Paul.

We can both have
what we want.

I sense I'm being taken.

I... I just don't know how.

Can't help yourself.

You didn't get
where you are

without a healthy regard
for the value of a dollar.

You know a bargain
when you see one.

You know how
to seize the initiative

when your opponent
is at his weakest.

What I'm offering you
is the greatest bargain you'll ever get.

But free never lasts.

6:00. Come.

I wanted to stay.

Let's just go
home, okay?

I was happy
with Dad and Talitha.

Why'd you
have to ruin it?

Mr. Getty.

They're here.

I'm sorry, Ms. Getty,
Mr. Getty is unavailable at the moment.

Tell him it's regarding
his grandson's kidnapping in Rome.

I'll wait.

Gail, look at this.

Mr. Getty,
we've received reports

that a note has arrived
written in your grandson's handwriting

demanding 17 million
US dollars.

$17 million?

That's an awful lot of money
for such a young boy.

Mr. Getty, what steps will you be
taking to secure your grandson's safety?

None.

I'm afraid we
didn't get that, sir.

I have
14 grandchildren.

If I start paying ransoms,

I'll have 14 kidnapped
grandchildren.

Yeah, but you're a famously
ruthless negotiator, Mr. Getty.

Yes, but there's
very little in life

worth paying full price for,
don't you think?

How much would you pay
for your grandson,

if not $17 million?

Nothing.

Ms. Getty,
are you still there?

- Ms. Getty...
- Yes, I'm still here.

Would you like me
to give Mr. Getty a message?

Tell him I'm coming.

Mr. Getty.

A message
from Mrs. Getty.

Get me Fletcher Chace.

The younger generation
has become weak and lazy.

Our children care
about nothing

but Lamborghinis
and discotheques.

Well, perhaps,
then, you would

do well to accept our
competitor's offer.

- How so, Mr. Chace?
- Maybe Standard Oil

will find ways to siphon
all that money away

with their accounting tricks

and bring your wayward
children closer to God.

Kidding aside,
Your Highness,

my employer
has made you rich.

Not as rich as him.

If you renew your
land-use agreement with Getty,

he'll make you
twice as rich.

Can Standard Oil say that?

Can Standard Oil say that?

We don't need
the Americans anymore.

Our cartel, OPEC,
will control inventory now.

OPEC will set
the oil price.

Let me just
be very clear, okay?

Nothing would
make Mr. Getty

happier than to see
the price of oil higher.

In fact, he'd
be happy to help.

Fletcher!

The old man's
on the phone for you!

Gentlemen, excuse me
for a moment, please.

Shit.

I'm afraid Mr. Getty
is unavailable.

You wouldn't have me
thrown out, would you?

I would never turn you away
from my home, ma'am,

or little Paul,
but this is not my home.

- To the right, ma'am.
- Thank you.

Sir.

This is new.

How much would you say
this painting's worth?

A great deal, I'm sure.

It's awfully
small for a Vermeer.

Vermeers
are small.

You don't say.

I've learned
to appreciate

the finer things
from Mr. Getty.

Not in that league.

If I took it off the wall, do
you think anyone would notice?

An alarm would go off.
Dogs would get to you

before you made
it to the fence.

A face as pretty
as that, I wouldn't.

You seem very
knowledgeable.

About paintings, no.

About other things, some.

Mr. Chace.

He's a tough old goat
to get an audience with.

Apparently not.

Pull.

And pull.

Great shot.

I think I'm getting
better at this.

- Morning, Fletch.
- Morning, Mr. Chace.

Morning.

Help yourself.

- You call.
- Pull.

- Get Mr. Chace a gun.
- Yes, sir.

Morning, sir.

Morning.

Pull.

I need to phone my
attorney to find out

if there's been any contact
from the men who took Paul.

Of course, ma'am.

Mr. Getty had it installed
specially for his guests' convenience,

in case they wanted
to make telephone calls.

I understand,
but Rome is long distance.

I am able
to provide change.

Remind me again, Chace,
your family situation.

Well, I was married
three times.

First one left me
for my brother,

second was a fashion model,

and then the third,
I just finalized.

I always say,
"You never really know anyone

"until you've been
through a divorce."

I wish you would've told
me that three marriages ago.

You know, they say
money can't buy love,

it turns out you just have
to wait till the end

- for the check to come, right?
- Children?

No, I was never
home much.

Yeah, same here.

There was something
my father always used to say,

"A man who has children
gives hostages to fortune."

Well, your father
was a wise man.

Yeah. He told me
I would never be worth a damn.

So, I made him
look like a pauper.

You certainly
did that, sir.

I love my grandson,
Chace.

I'm sure you do.

Well, I love all my
grandchildren, of course,

but Paul,

Paul is special.

I don't know what I would do if anything
happened to that boy.

Now, I want you
to go to Rome.

I want you
to bring him back

as quickly
and as inexpensively as possible.

I'm gonna need some kind
of resources to work with

- if you want him back alive.
- Well, of course.

I just didn't want you
giving my money away, see?

Now, you find
the boy, Chace.

And find out
who took him.

Oh, and one more thing.

The boy's mother.

A hostage negotiation
is no business for a woman.

So, you take
care of her,

but keep her
out of the details.

- Understand?
- Yeah, I know how to handle her.

Giovanni,
can you hear me?

Can you hear me?

Giovanni?

Giovanni, have I lost you?

- Shit.
- Ma'am?

I apologize for not
introducing myself earlier.

My name is Fletcher Chace.

I'm gonna help
you find your son.

I'm sure you're very good
at what you do, Mr. Chace.

My former father-in-law
only buys the best.

But I don't need
an ex-secret agent

to solve the mystery
of what happened to my son,

because there
is no mystery.

I need one thing only,
and that is $17 million.

Paying the ransom
doesn't guarantee you get your son back.

Not paying the ransom
nearly guarantees I don't.

Well, I'd say your son's
chances are better than that.

Why don't you
explain the odds to me.

Is it a coin toss?

Heads he lives, tails he dies.
I can see how that's

a chance worth taking when
there's real money at stake.

All right, let me
rephrase that, please.

$1 billion earns $17 million a month
sitting in a bank vault.

He could buy a Matisse every
day and never spend it all.

I don't think this
is about money for Mr. Getty.

Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize
this was your first day on the job.

Look, I've had to bargain
with a lot of people.

Sheikhs, sultans.

The one thing I've learned is that money
is never just money.

All right?
It always stands for something.

Usually it stands
for the one thing they've never had.

And until you know
what that thing is,

you're just beating your
head against the bricks.

Look, I don't blame
you, all right?

You came here
for $17 million...

- Nope.
- and instead you got me.

I'm the one who
has the old man's ear,

and I'm offering
to help you.

I'm not leaving here
until I speak to him.

- Face-to-face.
- I'm afraid Mr. Getty

has already
departed the estate.

He's away on business,
and it's uncertain when he will return.

I'm sure
you'll want to be getting

back to Rome
on the next flight out.

I'm headed there myself.

I can offer you
a ride to the airport.

Out of the way, fellas!
Out of the way!

Hey!

- Go ahead.
- My son Paul

must be very frightened
right now.

I know I'm
frightened for him.

So, to the people
who took him,

I don't care
why you did this,

but I ask,
as a mother, that you

think of your own children
or of the child that you once were

and set my boy
free. Thank you.

Your son has disappeared.

A mother should
cry for her son.

All right, enough.
Let the lady through. Let's go! Move!

Ms. Getty,
I am Magistrate Corvo.

I'm the lead investigator.

- Would you please follow us?
- Come with me. Come.

Ms. Getty,
come on, tell us more.

You said you have the money.

You okay?

They want me to cry?

Is that it?

All these letters
are addressed to me.

You've been
opening my mail?

Well, this may be your
mail, Ms. Getty, but it is our evidence.

You see, all these letters,
they come from people

who claim to have
kidnapped your son.

They come from all
over the world, too.

Germany, California...

Faster than we
can investigate.

Well, $17 million

sure brings out a crowd.

- You're telling me you have nothing?
- No.

I'm telling you
we have too much.

Too many kidnappers,
too many reporters.

You want some free advice?
Put it in the papers.

When the kidnappers find out
that every lowlife in Rome

is trying to scoop
up their ransom,

they'll have to come out
into the open to claim it.

It's the communists.

It's the Red Brigades,
the Brigate Rosse.

- Possibly.
- To kidnap

the child of the richest
capitalist in the world,

it's a dream come
true for them.

Well, I may be able
to initiate some back channels

- with the Red Brigades.
- Back channels?

Mr. Chace,
these are terrorists.

You're not gonna find them
listed in a telephone book.

I still have some
contacts in those areas.

I advise you
to leave this to us.

For your own safety.

And you, Ms. Getty,
they will take you, too,

if they get a chance.

Which is why I put you
under police protection.

You will find my
officers in your home.

I don't need anyone's
protection.

I'm not a real Getty.
I never was.

I'm an ordinary person.

No. You're not
a person anymore.

You're a symbol.

I will see you
at your apartment.

- Madam.
- Marina.

- Carabinieri are in the kitchen.
- Grazie.

Is there anywhere else you can put that
so we can have a place to cook?

Your child
is kidnapped.

How can you
think about eating?

Hi there.

Hi.

- Darling. Come.
- I can't sleep.

All these strange
men in your house.

Can I sleep
in your bed?

Of course you can.

Have you found anything,
Secret Agent man?

Did Paul do any drugs?

Hashish?

He's a teenage boy.

He has teenage boy problems.

Makes teenage
boy mistakes.

I'm just trying to find it
before that guy out there does.

He'd gotten into trouble
at school, am I right?

A boy needs a father,

and his was strung out
in Marrakech with Mick Jagger.

It was all I could do to
get him to come home at night.

I better keep this.

You carry a gun,
Mr. Chace?

You said you
used to be a spy.

Well, it's not how I put it
on my tax returns, but, yeah.

Spies carry guns.

I never bothered.

Ruins the line
of your suit.

And guns are for people
who don't have money.

All that spooky
paperback stuff,

chasing around, blowing
poison darts at the KGB

in the Arab Quarter, it's not
what I did for a living.

What do you do?

I made deals.
I bought people.

Keep it.

Forgive me, Ms. Getty.

Just one last question

regarding your
testimony earlier.

Why did you think
the kidnapping was a joke?

It's a figure of speech.

The whole situation

was unbelievable.
It still is.

Well, tragic,
yes, but not unbelievable.

It's not tragic yet.

Maybe you ought to work
on keeping it that way.

Okay, write another letter
to your mother

and tell her,
if she doesn't pay,

we'll mail her
your finger.

Why doesn't your
family love you?

I think they love me.

I hope so.

What's wrong with you?

Are you a bad boy? Hmm?

- You a bad boy?
- No.

You're a bad boy.

Don't lie.

What did you do?

I set fire to my school once
and got kicked out.

Well,

boys play with fire.

I did.

You want to try it?

If my son
was kidnapped,

bad, good,

I would pay any
money to get him back.

I would borrow it. Steal.

Okay, I steal anyway,
but I would steal more.

Could I have
another light?

Americans.

I don't understand you.

For us,
family is everything.

We are obbligati.

I was born
into my family,

and that decides
my whole life.

My whole life.

I'm obbligato, too.

As much as you.

What are you
doing? Write!

Convince her to pay
us our money,

or Madonna mia, I...

I'll kill you myself.

You saw.

What?

Fuck, you've seen me.

If I tell Piccolino,

he'll have your
eyes pulled out

so you can never
identify us.

Even blind, your family
will pay for you.

You don't have
to tell him.

Please.

Look at me. I want
to see your eyes.

Look at me,
look at me.

I don't tell on you

and you don't tell on me.

Okay.

Look at the...

Fucking communists.

You don't look
like communists.

Let's talk about
the money.

First you prove to me

that you have the boy
and he's in good health,

and then we negotiate
the terms. But first the proof.

First the money,
then the boy.

I don't think
you have the kid.

Why are we
negotiating with him?

We should try him
and put him to death.

For what?

For crimes
against the proletariat.

Now I know you
don't have the kid.

We had an agreement.

With Paul.

Excuse me?

Paul used to talk about
having himself kidnapped.

With friends,
out on the street.

A game. No one gets hurt.

A way to make a little money
from his grandfather.

$2 million, perhaps.

That's what we do.

Did Paul know
who you were?

Well, we made friends
with him, and we told him we could help.

Then he disappeared.

We believe he
found someone else.

And now you
want what?

Finder's fee?
Consolation prize?

Here I thought you all
were supposed to be above money.

No one is above money.

Problem is that
it's in the wrong hands.

We intend to get
what's our due.

Did Paul ever talk
to you about having himself kidnapped?

You've got to remember
who the Gettys are.

Every time someone stays
in the bathroom for too long,

someone makes a joke
about being held for ransom.

Paul might have cracked a joke
once or twice among friends...

There's that word again.

What word?

A "joke."

You said you thought
it was a joke when it first happened.

Now you sound like
that policeman.

Whose side are you
on, Mr. Chace?

I'm on my own side. Always.
And if this is a joke,

I'd like to make sure
that I'm in on it.

Where's the old man?

Come here!

Hey, good girl. Hey, hey.

I can't say
I'm surprised.

Are you all right,
Mr. Getty?

Hmm. When I wrote my book,
How to Be Rich,

the publishers wanted
to change the title.

They wanted to call it
"How to Get Rich."

Well, I told them,
"Getting rich is easy."

I mean, any fool
can get rich.

And any number
of fools do.

I've noticed that.

But being rich,

that's something else.

When a man becomes wealthy,

he has to deal
with the problems of freedom.

All the choices he could
possibly want.

An abyss opens up.

Well, I've watched
that abyss.

I've watched it ruin
men, marriages.

But most of all,

it ruins the children.

I thought I could
trust my own blood.

He's a kid.

Kids do stupid things.

He's probably lying
on a beach somewhere,

and when he gets bored
or runs out of money,

he'll come home and he'll
have learned his lesson.

You know, if he hadn't,
I could always teach him one,

if need be, at your
discretion, of course.

I wanted to give
him everything,

everything I've
learned, all of...

My knowledge,
all that I've built.

And he just wanted to...

Pick my pocket
like his father,

like all the parasites

that have swarmed
around me all my life.

That's why I like things.

You see?

Things, objects, artifacts,
paintings, and...

They are exactly what
they appear to be.

They never change.

They never disappoint.

There's a purity
to beautiful things

that I've never been
able to find in another human being.

Neither have I.

Look, Mr. Getty,

you were right
not to pay the ransom.

You were right
to follow your gut.

You performed well.

It will be reflected
in your year-end bonus.

Well, thank you, sir.

Go back to Rome.

Wait for Paul to return.

Hurry up.

Okay, I'm all done.

Finito.

What the fuck
are you looking at?

Fuck.

You saw my face.

I didn't see anything.

You saw my face!
Don't lie!

Look, man, I won't tell
anybody, I swear.

You can trust me.

- He saw my face.
- Look, I won't tell anybody, okay?

Look, you guys
can still get your money.

Please, please, please.
No, no, no, no, no.

No, no, no,
I won't tell anybody! Please!

This is Chace.

Mr. Chace, it's Corvo.

I've just sent a car
to pick up you and Ms. Getty.

For what?

To come
and identify the body.

- "The body"?
- It's Paul.

It's Paul Getty's body.

I am sorry.

Paul?

Yes, it's the kid.

Look,
mistakes were made, obviously.

Somehow, I...

I'm on my way
to identify my son's body.

I don't feel
like talking.

- Gail...
- I've got nothing to say to you!

Gail, my investigation
and the police's

led us
to the conclusion that

- there was no physical danger.
- You bastards!

You did nothing!
All of you!

You couldn't find Paul,
so you came up with a story

to cover your tracks.

You made Paul
into the criminal. You gave up.

Whatever the old man is,
you're worse. You're lazy!

"Lazy"? No. No.

Stupid? Maybe.

Lazy? I...

No one did
enough. No one.

None of us
cared enough.

I must warn you

the corpse has been

burned

and disposed
of in seawater

to make identification
more difficult.

Show me.

It's very sticky.

Would you like
to help me, please?

It's not him.
It's not Paul.

'Course it's not him.
It's a grown man.

How could you
not see that?

That guy was headed
for a midlife crisis when they shot him.

A sailor saw that body get
thrown out of the same VW van

that was in the vicinity
when they took the boy.

Step
outside, please.

Thank you.

Come on.

Come on. Come on.

The body belongs
to Ettore "II Tamia" Pazzano.

Age 33.

Purse-snatching, vandalism,
public indecency.

Known associates,

Alberto Laganadi.

Dino Bova.

And Dante Agnana.

Alias, Cinquanta.

All from Fiumara, Calabria.

How fast can we
get to Fiumara?

Six hours.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
You got way too many men out here.

All right, we're not
invading another country.

Just tell them to lay low.

We wait all night
if we have to.

One of your guys gets
trigger-happy,

that boy could get caught
in the crossfire.

Don't look at me
like that. It happens.

What the fuck
is he looking at?

Francesca! Francesca!

Francesca!

They haven't found anyone.

Paul.

Paul.

We got a live one.

They sold him.

Hey! Hey! Hey!

- Sir, do you have a newspaper?
- Yeah.

Thank you.

Petrol
rationing soon, guv.

It's a good day.

I'm glad to hear
that, Mr. Getty.

It'll make this
much easier.

We need to pay
the ransom.

I thought you said
this was a hoax.

Your grandson was kidnapped
by members of the Calabrese' Ndrangheta.

Two of the original kidnappers
are dead, and one is missing.

That sounds
like progress to me.

I'm afraid not,
all right?

They got nervous
waiting for the ransom.

They sold the boy
to an investor.

"An investor"?

Who invests
in kidnapped children?

You'd be surprised.

There's nothing people can't
find a way to turn into money.

You told me that Paul and his
mother had cooked this up to soak me.

And I was wrong, all right?
Paul may have talked

about being kidnapped
with his friends.

He put it out there.
He's not behind this.

How do I know
that you're not wrong now?

These people are not
the old-world Malavita anymore.

Their only code
is profit and loss.

They will do things to Paul

that cannot be undone
for any amount of money.

We have to pay.

Well, this simply isn't possible.

My financial position
has changed.

Really? I mean, 30 seconds ago,
you said it was a good day.

I mean, I'm not
all that bright,

but I can multiply
as well as you.

With oil up as much
as it was this morning,

you have amassed
another fortune.

Well, what if the embargo
is lifted and oil were to crash?

I'd be exposed.

I have never been
more vulnerable financially

- than I am right now.
- Mr. Getty,

with all due respect,
nobody has ever been richer

than you are
at this moment.

I have no money to spare.

What would it take?

I mean, what would it take
for you to feel secure?

More.

Signora.

Where is my son?

I'm with him.

He's still in good
health. Don't worry.

It's because of you
I worry.

I want to talk to him.

I'm afraid this
I cannot do.

I'm not
in charge anymore.

This is Fletcher Chace.

Mr. Getty's authorized me
to negotiate on his behalf.

We'll cover
all your expenses up to $200,000.

Anything under this figure
is not considered extortion

under Italian law, so you
can walk away free and clear.

Come on.

These people are not stupid,
Signor Chace.

The boy
is worth nothing to anybody.

Okay? We're just trying
to settle this without causing

any more embarrassment
to the family.

He's a juvenile delinquent,
his grandfather has disowned him.

It's a tough break.
You took the wrong kid,

but you're getting
off easy now.

You arrogant bastard.

Your uncle Piccolino
died in custody last night, by the way.

You better take this deal
before the same happens to you.

Cinquanta, don't hang up.
This is Gail.

Oh, shit. Shit.

Scusi.

- Gail...
- You're done. You're fired!

- I don't work for you, Gail.
- Get out!

- Look, if you'll let me explain...
- Get out, get out, get out!

Gail, I lied. All right?

I said I was authorized
to pay them $200,000.

You know how much I'm really
authorized to pay? Nothing.

All right, if they accept,
I won't be able to deliver,

but I had to buy some time.

You wanted to know
what I used to do.

This is what I used to do,
what I still do for Getty.

You make deals.

You buy people.

That's right. Whether
it's an oil well in the desert

or a human life,
it's all the same.

We have to show
we are willing to walk away.

I can't walk away.
You can walk away,

because you have nothing
else in your life.

Because there's no one
in your life but yourself.

Fair enough.
$17 million and zero dollars,

that's how far
apart we are.

Those numbers
have got to move.

Signora.

Signora! Signora!

Seven million dollars.

Otto.

Mr. Getty, Mr. Lam.

Good morning,
Mr. Getty.

Nothing good
about it.

Let's get down
to business, shall we?

Are you serious about
making payment?

I wouldn't be here
if I weren't.

Because there can't
be any more games.

You know our price,

and it's not subject
to negotiation any longer.

Payment must be made
in cash today.

I want the proof first.

After you.

Daniel.

There you are.

Beautiful child.

Because of the painting's
disputed provenance,

it can never be publicly
displayed.

Careful.

I'm a bit disappointed.

It's not in the condition
I expected.

I'm not sure it's worth
the 1.5 million you're asking.

True masterpieces
rarely go on sale, Mr. Getty.

If you're not willing to pay,
you will never own one.

Pay the man.

Hey, Paolo.

Paolo. Look.

I brought you something
to warm you.

Something special
for being a good boy.

Can I just have
some crackers instead?

E che crackers?

What you
want that for?

I brought you
this good bistecca.

Come on.

Why?

You bring me steak now.

- Why?
- No questions.

You need to be strong.

Hey, forte. Come on.

Paolo.

Hey.

- Smile.
- Okay, okay.

I'll eat it. Just leave me
alone, and I'll eat it, okay?

Hey, hey, hey!

Hey, hey, hey.

Hey. Hey.

Hey.

Hey. Hey.

Hey.

Hey, hey, hey, hey.

Hey!

Hey.

Okay.

Follow me. Follow me.

Grazie.

Signora, telephone.

Hello?

Hello?

- Mom.
- Paul?

Mom, is that you?

Paul?

It's okay. I'm safe now.

I'm at the police station.

I'm all right.

But I need you
to come and get me.

What police station
are you at?

They came so close.

I just want to go home, Mom.

Please come get me.

- Please.
- Okay.

I'm coming to get you.

What police station
are you at?

Hold on. Let me ask.

Excuse me...

Paul?

Now, you go first.

No, you moved it.

All right,
go ahead. Your move.

Watch the kids.
I'll be back in a while.

What? What am I
supposed to feed them?

You'll figure it out.

Mrs. Getty.

My situation is urgent.

Please, if you
could give me

- any idea as to the...
- Let me help you. Follow me.

This piece came from my

former father-in-law's
personal collection.

By his own estimate,
it would bring

1.2 million at auction,
and that was years ago.

Ms. Getty,
this is un gingillo,

a trinket of the type
sold to tourists.

J. Paul Getty is the foremost
collector in the world.

Do you really believe that
you know better than he does?

No, signora, I do not.

But I do know
what my eyes see.

Thank you for your time.

Mrs. Getty, you might start
at the Capitoline Museum.

Ask for this person.

Paul? Paul.

Come on.

Drink.

Fast as you can swallow.

Come on, drink.

- Drink.
- Why?

We take turns. Look.

Okay.

It tastes like piss.

Okay, drink,
drink, drink.

You drink enough,
you can't feel a thing, okay?

Who the fuck
is that?

He's...
He's a good doctor.

- He's a good doctor.
- What?

You don't even feel it.
This, I promise.

What are you
talking about?

What do you mean,
I'm not gonna feel it?

What's he gonna do?

Paolo.

These men are going
to take a part of you.

The ear.

Let them have it, and live.

No, they're not gonna take
my fucking ear.

No, no, tell
them don't do it.

Paolo, he's a good doctor.

No. No.

- Don't do it. No.
- It's okay, it's okay.

No, get
the fuck off me. No.

- Come on.
- Hey! Hey! Get the fuck off me!

Get off of me!

- Get off of me!
- Hey, look at me!

- Get off! Off me!
- Paolo, look at me!

- No matter what happens, look at me!
- Get off!

Look at me!

Okay. New breath.

Look at me! Paolo,
okay, okay.

Good boy.
Strong boy. Bravo.

Okay.

It's okay. Paolo.

My eyes. Look at my eyes.

It's okay, it's okay.
Soon, it's over.

My eyes. My eyes.

Look at me. It's okay.

Almost over.

That's him.

No, no. The evidence.

He's alive.

We would
like to publish it,

Ms. Getty.

The photograph of the ear.

It's news,

and we are a newspaper.

It's my son's ear.

It's his.

It's ours.

And that's why we want
to offer some compensation.

I don't want to sell you
pictures of my son's ear.

Ms. Getty, your son
is being held for ransom.

You claim not
to have any money.

Yeah.

Yes, I remember
it was your paper

that reported I was
two months behind in my rent.

- It was news.
- How much money are you offering?

Fifty thousand
American dollars.

We'll leave
you alone now.

Enjoy your coffee.

Pay me in newspapers.

I don't want any money.

I want a thousand copies
of your paper.

And where would you like these
thousand copies sent, Ms. Getty?

What is it?

Open it up.
Let me see.

Paul is weak.

He's lost so much blood.

They wanted to take the foot,

and I convinced
them to take the ear.

But the foot is coming next.

I hear them talking.

I beg you,
get the money.

Tell us where you are.

We'll make a deal with you in exchange
for your cooperation.

We'll get you out of Italy.

No, no, no. You
don't understand.

I can never talk
to the police.

It's onore.

It is forbidden.

Even if this was my
own child.

There must be something
that you can do.

And what
about you, signora?

I've risked my throat
for your son.

And you, what have
you given for him?

And don't tell me
you don't have the money.

What have you done?

You...

Yes.

Ms. Getty, this
is Oswald Hinge in London.

I'm sure you
don't remember me.

Mr. Hinge.

I haven't forgotten a thing.

I'm calling
on behalf of Mr. Getty.

Not your former husband.

The old one with the money.

That's the one.

What can I do for you?

Mr. Getty has decided
to pay Paul's ransom.

Thank you, Mr. Hinge.

You thank him.
I am but a messenger.

Well, I would if he'd let me.

Well, you'll get your chance.

We'll need you to come
to London for some discussions.

What is there to discuss?

Thank you very much.

He's going to pay.

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.

Are you finished
with that, madam?

This is the captain.

We're on our final approach
into London Heathrow.

Scheduled to land
in around 10 to 15 minutes.

May I take that, sir?

Slightly cooler
today, 16 degrees Celsius.

- Are you finished with that?
- On behalf of all the crew,

we wish you a very pleasant
onward journey.

Gentlemen, Ms. Abigail Getty.

Mr. Chace.

Well, you'll
be happy to learn

that there are some
new developments,

which will enable us
to finally help our little Paul.

So glad to hear it.

My tax attorneys
have discovered that

while ransom payments are not
deductible under the tax code.

I could write off the interest

if I loan the ransom
money to my son.

You've discovered you can

take my son's kidnapping
as a tax deduction.

I'm happy it works out
financially for you.

I think we can all agree
the most important thing

is getting Paul home safely.

- And soon.
- Yes, soon.

Soon as possible, please.

Well, the loan
documents are ready,

and the funds are ready
to be transferred.

Paul will be so grateful
to his grandpa when he gets home.

He loves you.

More than you know.

And I love him.

There's just the matter
of the side letter.

If I may, the, uh...

In exchange for Mr. Getty
making the loan,

you agree to sign over full
custody of all your children,

including Paul,
to your ex-husband.

"Sign over"?

Yes, all parental rights
reside with Mr. Getty.

Just here.

Are you part of this?

They can't do this, can they?

My legal team
is the best there is.

If it wouldn't stand up in court,
they wouldn't have written it.

Now, you just take it easy.

Sleep on it and have your
attorney read it over.

I don't have time
to sleep on it.

My child is being
held prisoner.

Well, there is that.

I let you have
the money back then.

I didn't ask
for anything but my kids.

You just can't bear
to leave anything on the table, can you?

Thank you.

We have a problem.

Getty has agreed
to loan his son the ransom,

up to the amount
that is tax-deductible.

So?

So, I investigate.

Under US tax code,
only the first million is deductible.

That's all they wired to us.

What is the ransom
down to?

Four. Down from 17.

We don't have four.
We have one.

Meno male,
it's almost over.

What is Paul's condition?

He's not so good,

but we can keep him
alive a few days.

Long enough
to make the exchange.

We may not
have all of it.

All of what?

We only
have one million.

The number is four.

One
is the new number.

One

is one quarter of the ransom.

For this, they'll send
one quarter of your son.

Tell me, which quarter
do you want?

Did you hold the kid down
so they could cut off his ear?

You greedy animals.

You're the worst
criminals of all.

Listen to me.

I don't have any money
to make from this anymore.

But I don't
want Paul to die.

You have to go back
and get Getty to pay.

You have to get me
some time here.

I'm fighting an empire.

You think you're
the only one?

I need to speak to him.

Mr. Getty is unable
to receive guests at this hour, ma'am.

We can't stay here.
They'll call the police.

Let them.

Look, we have the million.

For a million,
they'll kill him.

They won't believe me when I say I don't
have the rest of the money.

Nobody believes me.

There was never any
guarantees, Gail.

The money would
give us a chance,

maybe a window
of opportunity to grab him.

- Maybe not even that.
- The money, the money,

the money,
the money, the money.

I can't bear to hear
about the money.

Everybody thinks
I have the money.

The newspapers, kidnappers,
they all think I'm rich.

You know what
they call that?

Credit.

We announce I have the ransom
money, all four million.

We make the exchange.
You get your window.

And what happens when they find out
the money's not all there?

By that time,
we either have Paul or...

Now you're
thinking like Getty.

Excuse me, please.

Excuse us,
please. Excuse me.

- All right, stand by.
- Thank you. Excuse me.

Thank you.

Good morning, everybody.

Mrs. Abigail Getty.

Following a long

and difficult negotiation
with my son's kidnappers,

I have decided to meet their demands
and pay the ransom in full.

I cannot begin to describe
the impact

this event has
had on our family.

For anyone to be abducted
is bad enough...

- Bullimore.
- ...let alone a child who should be safe

with his family
is another matter entirely.

- Sir.
- Get me Chace.

Abigail Getty,
mother of the kidnapped

John Paul Getty Ill.

It was at 3:00 a. m.
on the morning...

Morning, Chace.

Will you help
me with this?

I'm building a house
in California.

An exact replica of my
imperial villa in Rome,

down to the very
last detail.

But with flush toilets.

Yes. The mountain may not
have come to Muhammad,

but it sure
as hell came to me.

Mr. Getty.

The West Texas Intermediate,
sir.

What's it feel like,
reading that slip of paper?

Well, for a moment,

money loses all meaning
and becomes as plentiful as air.

Like flight.

And then it passes.

What's all this
I see on TV

with Gail paying
the ransom in full?

We both know
she doesn't have it.

The lady's made other
arrangements.

But she
doesn't have the money.

So, what's going on?

Come on. Where
did she get it?

Is she fucking somebody?

You know, I think I'm finally beginning
to understand what makes you tick.

No, no, you
couldn't begin to.

So, spill it.

What's going on?
What's her game?

Don't forget, Chace,
I have a contract.

And I'll enforce it.

- No, I don't think so.
- Oh? Why not?

Can you hear me?

I want to make sure
that I am very clear.

Because whatever personal
security you presently enjoy

comes from me.

All right? Those Alsatians
limping around the pool?

My people trained them.

Your security system?
My people installed it.

The bodyguards? That's right,
you rapacious old fuck,

you are protected
from every threat imaginable,

unless that threat
happens to be me.

I suppose this is your
way of submitting your resignation.

Hey!

"Men of risk"?

Isn't that what
you called us?

"I risk my money.
You risk your life."

You're so full of shit.

You and me? We never risked
a thing in our lives.

We never took the chances
ordinary people take.

That's why we are
where we are now.

You're just cheap, Paul.

You could have
all the money in the world,

and you are still a no-good
miserable son of a bitch,

and don't you forget it.

Goodbye, Mr. Getty.

Those children
are my blood, Chace!

They're mine.

She took them.

The money came through.

It was the full ransom.

$3.3 million.

At today's exchange rate,
1.6 billion lira.

They wired this along
with the money.

Getty caved.

What did you say to him?

I couldn't even tell you.

I'll make
the exchange on my own.

La Signora Getty only.

She'd be in a car
with millions of dollars, okay?

The whole world knows
what she looks like.

She could be robbed
on the highway.

That's your problem.

Then we both go.

Non-negotiable.

Because of the fuel crisis
and rationing measures,

no cars will be allowed
on the roads on Sunday.

This way, all the roads
will be empty,

and so, they can see
if Gail is followed.

Drive a Fiat 125

with two suitcases
tied to the roof.

Exit the autostrada
tollgate at 9:00 a. m.

and drive south at exactly
80 kilometers an hour.

Do not stop
for food, toilet, nothing.

Remember, they're watching.

A small stone
will strike your windshield.

This will be their
sign to stop.

Obey these rules, or they
will take his other ear.

His eye.

A hand.

That's it.

Come on.

Okay, come on.

Okay.

You look good.

You can't go home
to your mother looking like a sciattone.

Stay there and don't move,
or we kill you.

Okay.

Hey, Paolo.

Don't wait. Run.

And get out of Italy.

You, too.

Three kilometers
down the road is a work site.

Paul waits there for you.

Footprints.

They made the drop.

He ran.

Who's there?

Bullimore!

- I can't get involved.
- No, no, no, no, no.

No!

Bullimore?

Bul...

No, no, no, no.

Paul?

Hey, Paul!

Paul!

Stop. Enough.

What are you looking at?

Cinquanta.

Get him out of Italy. Now!

- What are you waiting for? Go!
- Come on.

Paul.

Fuck!

Beautiful

child.

Come here.

You're all right.

You're all right.

It's okay, it's okay.

There.

Mr. Hinge,
Ms. Getty is here.

Ms. Getty.

Tea?

No, thank you.

Ms. Getty, we offer you
our sincerest condolences.

Well, you're very thoughtful.

Please, sit.

Mr. Getty's death has created
a bit of a crisis here.

You see, the estate
was structured

as a charitable
family trust.

Did he ever give any
money to charity?

No. No.

The trust enabled
Mr. Getty

to build his fortune
without paying taxes.

There was just
one catch.

Under the rules
of the trust,

he couldn't actually
spend the money.

What's the point of making
all that money if you can't spend it?

Well, he couldn't spend it,
but he could invest it.

So, he invested
it in things.

Art. Antiques.

Soon, he had a...
A staggering amount of things.

And a staggering
amount of money.

Now someone has to decide
what to do with it all.

What do you
want with me?

How do I put this...

The king is dead.

The throne is vacant.

Your children are his heirs.

Until they come of age,

someone has to make
the decisions.

Which means, of course,

someone has
to take his place.

They're still finding
masterpieces stashed under staircases.

Most of it's going
to his villa in Malibu.

Nowhere else
could fit it all.

- Careful.
- Yes, ma'am.

Paul?

Come say hello
to Mr. Chace.

Or goodbye.
I'm not sure which.

He's gonna be trouble
with the ladies.

I already am.

I do hope you'll
stay on with us.

I know you had other
ambitions, but...

Guys like me
don't get rich.

We get sidetracked
too easily.

Shame.

Not really.

I think of you
as family.

Kind of you
to say so, ma'am.

Was a couple things around the grounds
that I've been meaning to see to.

Yes, of course.
Don't let me keep you.

Coming?

- Let's go see the dogs.
- Okay.

Ms. Getty?

Is there anything we
can help you with?

No, thank you. I'm fine.

I have everything I need.