All language subtitles for Avanti_English

Attention, please.

Alitalia announces
the immediate departure...

of flight AZ-611
nonstop New York to Rome.

Ladies and gentlemen,
we are now approaching...

Leonardo Da Vinci Airport
near Rome.

Please fasten your cigarettes
and extinguish your seat belts.

We thank you
for your patronage...

and sincerely hope that you
have enjoyed your flight.

Thank you.

Your name, please.

Armbruster.
Wendell Armbruster Jr.

- You are from where?
- Baltimore.

It says all that right on the...

- Your profession?
- Executive.

If you must know,
I'm vice president...

of Armbruster Industries.

What is purpose
of your visit to Italy?

To pick up a body.

A body?

A corpse.

Whose corpse?
Maybe Dr. Fleischmann?

Dr. Fleischmann?

The man whose passport
you are using.

Wait a minute.
I can explain that.

He and I exchanged clothes.
We forgot to exchange passports.

He must be around here
somewhere.

I was on the golf course...

when I got the bad news
about my father.

He was killed in an automobile
accident in Ischia.

I only had 30 minutes...

to make the funeral
arrangements...

if I was to catch the plane.
I had no time to change.

And how would it look
if I showed up here...

in plaid pants
and a red cardigan?

This way, Dr. Fleischmann.

I am not Dr. Fleischmann.
I'm Mr. Armbruster!

I'm not Mr. Armbruster.
I'm Dr. Fleischmann.

I just did this guy a favor.

Tells me his father is dead.
What am I going to do?

There he is.

That's him!

What the hell
did you get me into?

I'm sorry.

This is his passport.

Here.

That is mine.

- OK? All clear?
- Yes.

- May I go now?
- No.

Why not?

Because passport
must be stamped.

Then stamp it.

You have to go back
to end of line.

Look, I know you foreigners.

I know how you love
to push Americans around...

but my father's lying
in a morgue someplace!

I've got to get
a train to Naples...

and a boat to Ischia...

and if you guys
give me a bad time...

if there is
the slightest hitch...

if I don't get him
back to Baltimore...

in time for that funeral
on Tuesday...

there's going to be
such a scandal!

God almighty.

Eulogy, first draft.

We have gathered here
to bid good-bye to a good man...

a rare man,
a much-beloved man.

Wendell Armbruster Sr...

was an old-fashioned man.

I mean that in the noblest
sense of the word.

In these days of defeatism
and disillusionment...

he was one who believed
in duty to his country...

devotion to his family,
and dedication to his work.

Not bad.

He died suddenly
and tragically...

far away from his loved ones...

alone in a distant land
where he used to go...

to rest his mind
and heal his body.

He was a philanthropist,
a pillar of the church...

a tireless crusader
of all that is decent...

and an ensign in the Coast Guard
during World War II.

Friends, if I may borrow...

Yes?

I was wondering,
are you Mr. Armbruster?

I'm certainly not
Dr. Fleischmann...

so don't you start now.

Why are you shouting at me?

Yes, my name is Armbruster,
but what about it?

I thought that's what
you'd look like...

but I didn't expect you
to be so rude.

What the...

Friends, if I may borrow
the words of a famous poet...

"Lives of great men
all remind us..."

Excuse me,
but are you following me?

No, not really.

Yes, and how come
you know my name?

I know a lot
of things about you.

You're 42,
you live in Baltimore...

you have a wife
and two children...

and you're a former president...

of the Junior Chamber
of Commerce.

You read the Newsweek
article, right?

Business and Finance.

Incredible, isn't it?

The weather, I mean.

Especially to someone
who lives in London.

Last year, summer
was two days in June...

and three days in August.

Have you ever been
to Italy before?

- No.
- Neither have I.

As a matter of fact,
I've never been anyplace.

It's a little frightening...

first time
in a strange country.

In Italian, everything sounds
like it's from an opera.

Do you know what that means?

What?

There's no soap
in the bathroom.

How about that?

And when you're
in a ristorante...

that's a restaurant...

do you know there are sixteen
different kinds of pasta?

Spaghetti, spagatini,
macaroni...

cannelloni, rigatoni,
tortellini, fettuccini...

manicotti, gnocchi,
linguini, ravioli...

Of course,
I can't eat any of that.

I don't know if you noticed...

but I have
this weight problem.

I noticed that.

And in the hotel, before
a maid enters your room...

she asks,"Permesso?"

And if you want her
to come in...

you say, "Avanti."

Forward.

You should really get
yourself this little book.

I know
all the Italian I need.

My name is Carlucci.
Carlo Carlucci.

I am the director of the hotel.

How do you do?

I sorrow for you
in your bereavement.

Thank you.

My deepest condolences...
and my apologies.

What are you apologizing for?

That it should happen
in Italy...

on an Italian road
in an Italian car.

- He was a bad driver.
- No. It was a bad curve.

As Verdi said...

An act of God.

Where did they put him?
Where is he?

A very nice place.
The municipal morgue.

- What are we waiting for?
- Your luggage.

This is it.

How far is the morgue?

It is in the other direction.
First we go to the hotel.

Hold it.
I want to see the old boy.

The morgue,
I'm afraid she is closed.

It is the lunch hour.

It's 2:30.

In Italy, the lunch hour
is from 1:00 to 4:00.

Three hours for lunch?

Here we do not rush
to drugstore...

for chicken sandwich
and Coca-Cola.

Here we take our time.

We cook our pasta.
We sprinkle our parmigiano.

We drink our wine.
We make our love.

What do you do in the evening?

In the evening,
we go home to our wives.

Crazy.

Exactly how did
the accident happen?

I don't know exactly.

It was a dark night,
and there was that bad curve.

Maybe he did not see it.
Maybe he lost control.

The car plunged straight down
a vineyard... 200 meters.

They must have been
killed instantly.

They?

The police came,
the fire department...

were at the wreck.

It took them hours
to get the corpses out.

What do you mean, corpses?
How many were there?

- Just two.
- Two?

You see, your father...

he was not alone in the car
when it happened.

Who was with him?

Nobody, really.
Just an acquaintance.

Another guest at the hotel.
They went for a ride.

It's beautiful out there.

You can see
the whole Bay of Naples...

and Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii.

Here we are.

It sure doesn't look
like a Hilton.

I accept the compliment.

This place
will never be the same...

now that your father
has left us.

I am Bruno, the valet.

I hope you have
a pleasant stay, considering.

Thank you.

I will take you
to your father's suite.

It is on the main floor
because of his bad back.

Sometimes he would get
one of his spasms...

and we had to carry him down
to the mud bath.

Poor bastard.
He really suffered.

It is the price
you executives pay for success...

decisions, pressures, anxieties.

Naturally, the batteries
wear out.

The transistors break down.

121-122.

If you please.

Nothing has been touched.

He always had this suite
for ten years...

July 15th to August 15th.

You must be tired.
It's a long trip.

I'm OK.

While you are here...

maybe you should take
some mud baths.

No, thanks.
I had one on the train.

On the train?

I drank it.
They call it espresso.

Your father,
he certainly blossomed here.

And the day he would leave...

he would put his arm around me
and say, "Carlo..."

He always called me Carlo...

"What an idiot I am
to go back to that rat race.

"I wish I could
stay here forever."

To tell you the truth, when he
first started coming here...

I thought the place
was a phony.

A phony?

All this nonsense about mud
and underwater massages...

and radioactive springs.
Come on.

You may not know it...

but Ischia has been
a health resort for 2,000 years.

The emperor Tiberius
came here for the gout.

And De' Medici and Caruso
and Sophia Loren.

Sophia Loren has the gout?

No. Here we cure everything.

Take Michelangelo.
He had trouble with his kidneys.

He took the waters here
and passed three stones.

They're in the local museum.

Shall I unpack for you?

Just put it anywhere.

Operator, I'd like to make...

You're not out to lunch,
are you?

Good. I'd like to make
an overseas phone call...

to the United States...
Baltimore, Maryland.

Maryland.

"M" as in Michelangelo.
He used to stay here.

You got it?

Operator? Hello, operator?

You still there?

The number is 426-9956,
area code...

All right, I'll give it
to you slowly.

How you doing so far?

Good. Area code 301.

I want to speak to
Mrs. Wendell Armbruster Jr.

Yes, it was a great loss.
That's very kind of you.

Would you call me back, please?

They must have liked
my father around here.

Yes. When the news came,
everybody was crying.

The orchestra
in the restaurant...

they stood around
his empty table...

and played all
his favorite tunes.

Is that so?
As soon as the morgue opens...

we'll go over
and claim the body...

and next, we'll make
arrangements...

First...

there are certain formalities
we must comply with.

What formalities?

You cannot walk into
a foreign country...

point to a body, and say,
"That's my father..."

and walk out with him.

Why not? Do they think I go
around collecting dead fathers?

You have to fill out
some official papers.

Regulations about exporting
a corpse, they are very strict.

Everything must be
in triplicate.

A lot of crap. You fill
them out, and I'll sign them.

Certainly. And then there is...

some additional crap
to be dealt with.

Such as?

We will need a certificate
that he did not die...

from an infection
or a contagious disease.

Like what, mumps or measles?

He died from driving
over a cliff.

Then we will need
a certificate...

that the body has been
properly embalmed.

We also need
a mortuary passport...

but this has to be issued
by the authorities in Naples.

Don't bother me
with details. Just do it.

You're exactly
like your father.

Then you will have
to pay for the road sign...

he knocked over...
you know, "bad curve ahead."

Pay it.

Also, you will have to settle
with the Trotta brothers.

Who are they?

They own the vineyard
where the car went down.

They want damages.

Settle with them.

They're asking 2 million lira.

How much is that?

$3,500.

$3,500 for a bunch
of lousy grapes?

No. Let them sue.

I agree. They are crooks.

Then there is the problem
with the coffin.

What's the problem?

For export, a special
casket is required.

It must be lined with zinc.

It must be absolutely airtight.
It must be...

Get one.

There are none in Ischia,
but fortunately...

I have located one in Amalfi.

Then there's
no problem, is there?

Another thing... I want
a helicopter standing by...

to take me and the casket
to Rome, so there won't be...

any delay in catching
the plane to Baltimore.

The funeral's Tuesday.

Tuesday?

In the morning, 11:00,
First Presbyterian Church.

Impossible.
You must postpone it.

I what? What do you
mean, postpone it?

So many things to do.
This is Saturday.

Tomorrow is Sunday.
Nobody works.

Somebody will work.

This is a Catholic country.

Then we'll get a dispensation
from the pope.

For a Presbyterian?

Get this... come hell
or high water...

I'm getting out of here
by Monday...

because at precisely
11:00 Tuesday...

work at every Armbruster
plant in the country...

will come to a stop
so that 216,000 employees...

can watch the services...

on closed-circuit television...
in color...

except for Puerto Rico.
They get it in black and white.

And there'll be governors there
and senators and congressmen...

and supreme court judges,
the AFL-CIO...

the glee club from
the Coast Guard Academy.

The White House
is sending Dr. Kissinger...

and you want me to postpone it?
No way.

Excuse me. I'm looking
for Signore Carlucci.

- They told me at the desk...
- I am Signore Carlucci.

How do you do?
I'm Pamela Piggott.

You are not supposed to be here.
You are in 126.

I know, but I need some help.

All these questions,
all in Italian.

I will be glad to help,
but not now.

I will see you later.

Damn it!

The faucet says cold,
and I burn my hands.

So did I.

Then I looked it up in my book.

"C" stands for caldo...

but that doesn't mean cold;
it means hot.

Freddo means cold.

- It's you again.
- Hello.

- You know each other?
- No, we don't.

Yes, we do. We've been
traveling together.

On a train or a boat, there's
nothing I can do about it...

but when you come
barging into my room...

I assure you,
I'm not trying to pick you up.

I'm here to pick up my mother.

They tell me I can't see her
until after lunch.

That's right.
The place opens at 4:00.

I hate going there.

I'd much rather remember her
the way she was...

but I suppose it has to be done.

Wait a minute.

Your mother... where is she?

In the morgue.

What's she doing in the morgue?

What do people usually
do in the morgue?

She's lying there...

side by side
with your father, I expect.

Side by side with my father?
Why?

Because that's the way
they were in the car...

when the accident happened.

I told you he was not alone.
Don't you remember?

My father and your mother?

Why not? You know how it is
in a resort hotel.

People meet in the dining room
or play backgammon or...

I'm terribly sorry.
I had no idea.

Of course you didn't.

I must have seemed like
some sort of monster.

Please forgive me, Miss...
I don't even know your name.

If there's anything at all
that I can do for you...

There is.
Could I have some Kleenex?

I will get it.

Would you like some brandy?
Perhaps you'd like to lie down.

Please, don't worry about me.

I don't know what to say.
Somehow I feel responsible...

because if my father
hadn't been driving the car...

You mustn't feel that way.

If it had to happen,
it was more or less ideal.

Warm night, full moon,
island in the Mediterranean.

At the height of the season.
What more could anyone ask?

Of course, I'm completely
at your disposal.

Any difficulties,
any expenses involved...

Thank you.

Wait until you hear
about all the red tape.

I heard.

For instance, you need a coffin
lined with some sort of metal.

Zinc. You better get
a couple of those.

I had trouble finding one.

Come on. You can dig up
a couple of coffins.

You want secondhand coffins?

Is that Mrs. Armbruster Sr.?

Yes. They would've been married
forty-five years this fall.

How sad.

That's my wife Emily
and the two boys.

That's one thing
I envy you Americans for.

You're all so thin.
How do you manage it?

Swimming,
horseback riding, golf.

I've tried jogging
on Hampstead Heath...

at seven o'clock in the morning
in a sweat suit...

but I never worked up a sweat.
I just worked up an appetite.

Worked up an appetite.

What's that?

It's a nightgown.

What's the meaning of that?

- Of what?
- That.

That. It's a mistake.

Here's another mistake.

I want to know what
those things are doing in here.

If I am to get
that second coffin...

I had better call Amalfi.

Hold it.
I want an explanation.

An explanation?
Now, let me think.

I'll help you.

The valet forgot
to pack these things...

when he moved my mother's
suitcases into room 126.

Right?

You just cannot get
decent help these days.

Time!

You mean her mother
and my father...

were shacked up together?

I don't particularly care
for your choice of words.

All right, they were making it.
Is that any better?

Just because two people
are sharing the same suite...

or the same...

that does not mean there was
anything improper going on.

Now you're being
insulting to my mother.

She was a very beautiful woman.

She was.

And a lady.

And your father was a gentleman.

No matter how bad things look,
you must believe me.

I have an uncle who is
in the college of cardinals.

Would I lie to you?

You're goddamned right.

They were making it.

Son of a bitch!

Do you know how old he was?

67. A grandfather...
with a bad back, yet.

I would be proud
if my father was...

Shut up.

As for your mother, she ought to
be ashamed of herself.

My mother had nothing
to be ashamed of.

She was the perfect lady.

Meets a rich elderly
American in the lobby.

One hour later, she's having
drinks with him in the bar.

Two hours later, she moves
her things into his suite...

and then...

They didn't meet in the lobby.
They met in the souvenir shop.

What the hell difference
does it make?

That was ten years ago.

Ten years?

This has been going on
for ten years?

Every summer,
July 15th to August 15th.

You mean all the time
that we thought...

he was over here getting cured,
he was getting laid?

This is neither the time
nor the place.

Goddamn fool!

Didn't he care
what people think or say?

Not to worry. It was all
handled very discreetly.

They were registered
as Mr. And Mrs. Armbruster.

Mr. And... Oh, my God.
Jesus Christ.

Yes?

What? Am I ready
to talk to Baltimore?

No, I'm not ready
to talk to Baltimore.

Who's calling?
I'm calling.

Put her on.

Hello, Emily. I'm fine.

The trip? It's fine.

It was just one of those
unfortunate accidents.

For whatever it's worth,
you can tell mother...

he didn't suffer
towards the end.

I'm working on it.

There's no problems,
just red tape.

Questionnaires, permits.

Where do you suddenly find
two zinc-lined coffins?

Two? I didn't say two!
It must be the connection!

What would I do
with two coffins?

No! I'm sorry.

No, I didn't call
the embassy.

They're in Rome,
and I'm in Ischia.

What are they going
to do for me?

How's mother holding up?

And how are the kids?

- Good-bye.
- Good-bye.

Just a minute.
Where are you going?

See you at the morgue.

How are the funeral
arrangements coming?

What? Who's Miss who?

Piggott?

She's... in the hotel.

Works here.

As an interpreter.

Of course you need
an interpreter...

even when you
go to the bathroom.

In this country,
caldo means hot.

This is the morgue?

Yes, sir. Seventeenth century.

The walls are that thick.
The coolest place in town.

Good afternoon.

So nice to see you again.

How do you feel?

That's a silly question.
You feel the way I feel... rotten.

We will have to wait.
He is not here yet.

- Who?
- The...

How do you say it?

- The coroner?
- That's it.

Don't tell me
he's still at lunch.

Very likely.

A coroner, he eats very well.
He knows all the widows.

Pretty flowers.
What are they?

In Italian, they're
called tromboncini.

You don't say. What are
they called in English?

Daffodils.

Now...

when it comes to dealing
with the authorities...

whatever happened between
your mother and my father...

we're going to have to be
a little careful, aren't we?

Don't worry about
the hotel register.

We fixed it.
No more "Mr. And Mrs."

Let me ask you...
moneywise, how are you fixed?

What do you do for a living?

I work in a boutique
on the Kings Road.

I'm sure you could use
a little money.

I mean, anything
within reason.

You'll find
I'm pretty generous.

You will keep in mind,
won't you...

what's been happening
to the stock market?

Since January,
Armbruster Industries...

has dropped 141/2 points.

Like music.

OK.

Do you,
Wendell Armbruster Jr...

swear that you are
Wendell Armbruster Jr...

and this is the body
of your father...

Wendell Armbruster Sr.?

I do.

OK.

Do you, Pamela Piggott...

swear that you are
Pamela Piggott...

and this is the body of your
mother, Catherine Piggott?

It is necessary
for you to swear.

I do.

OK.

- Thank you.
- Not at all.

I'm sorry. Go right ahead.

OK.

Any luck with the coffins?

Yes, sir. My brother-in-law
in Bologna...

who happens to be
an undertaker...

he has two of those caskets...

and he is sending them out
on the first train.

You can sign now.

Come on. Just sign, please.

Not if I can help it.

All right, what happens next?

The red papers go to Naples
for the export license.

The white papers
go to Dr. Galupo...

to certify there are no
communicable diseases.

And the green papers,
they stay here...

until we get the coffins
from Bologna.

That's all. But we have
a small problem with Naples.

Like what?

They are closed on Sunday.

But fortunately,
I have a nephew...

who knows an official
in the license bureau...

and if he can get him to open
the office right after mass...

If you ask me, any foreigner
who dies in Italy...

is out of his friggin' skull.

- May I make a suggestion?
- No.

- I have a super idea, I think.
- Save it.

With all this nasty business...

zinc coffins
and health certificates...

and export licenses...
why subject them to that?

Why don't we bury them here?

Why don't we what?

There's a lovely old cemetery
up on the hill.

They could be there together.

- They'd like that.
- They would?

It would solve
all the headaches.

Absolutely.
The Carlucci family...

we have a large plot up there.
They would be welcome.

Better yet,
why don't we bury them...

in the blue grotto
at high tide...

or in Venice,
like Romeo and Juliet?

Verona.

Or we could build
a shrine for them...

with an eternal flame.

It was just an idea.

They were not
the unknown soldier.

They were
the unknown lovers.

Let's just keep it
that way, shall we?

Let's go.

Ask fat-ass if she wants a ride.

Tell him no, thank you.

He died suddenly
and tragically...

far from his loved ones...

alone in a distant land
where he used to go...

to rest his mind
and heal his body.

Bullshit.

He was a philanthropist,
a pillar of the church...

a tireless crusader
for all that is decent...

and an ensign
in the Coast Guard during...

Dirty old man.
That's what he was.

Eulogy, second draft.

Friends, coworkers,
stockholders...

we come to bury
Wendell Armbruster Sr...

not to praise him.

The evil men do...
Ignore that.

Wendell Armbruster Sr.
Was a man for all seasons.

I mean, avanti.

The suit, I pressed it.

The shirt, it's like new.

Drip and dry... great invention.

Like electric toothbrush,
roller derby, Alka-Seltzer.

I love America.

That's a switch.

I lived in America.
Wonderful people.

So friendly, so kind.

When I left New York...

they took me to airport
in limousine.

They put me on plane.
They waved good-bye.

- Who's they?
- The immigration department.

- You were deported?
- Yes, but first-class.

In America when they deport you,
they know how to do it.

Big 747.

Window seat.

Beautiful blond stewardess...

feeding me with a spoon
all the way across.

Handcuffs, you know?

Who'd you work for over there...
Mafia, Cosa Nostra?

Only part-time.

By profession,
I am a photographer.

That's very interesting.

You are exactly like
your father.

Not exactly!

I mean the size.

So I thought if you
wanted to change...

here are all
your father's clothes.

This is what he wore?

Plaids, bellbottoms,
two-tone shoes?

He had one
conservative suit...

but he's wearing it now.

He was a real sport.

See this watch?

He left it for me last year.
Spiro Agnew.

And he gave me this lighter.
Zippo.

- And a camera.
- Is that so?

A Polaroid.
Never served a nicer guy.

And as for the lady,
she was a pussycat.

Natural blonde.
Skin like vanilla ice cream.

Here they are all
like black olives.

I prefer vanilla ice cream.

Here. Get yourself
some ice cream.

They were such a swell couple.
Always laughter, always wine...

and always the sign outside
the door, "No disturbare."

They never get up
until four in the afternoon.

What's there to get up for?
Nothing's open. It's lunchtime.

And every night, the orchestra
would have to work overtime...

because they would dance
until dawn.

And then you know
what they would do?

No, and I don't care.

When the sun came up
over Mount Vesuvius...

they would go swimming...
no bathing suit, no nothing.

No nothing?

Like the man says on TV...

"In life you only
go around once...

"so grab all
the gusto you can."

They were swimming naked
right outside this hotel?

Why not?

Everybody asleep.
Nobody watching.

Except you, I imagine.

I always get up very early
to shine the shoes.

And that's where the Polaroid
comes in, I guess.

I couldn't help it.
It was so spectacular...

the sun coming up
on the Bay of Naples.

I know, yes,
and Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii.

I am not a landscape man.

Only portraits and figures.

How is your focus?

Perfect. Color perfect.

And the water here,
it is perfectly transparent.

So are you, buddy.

Maybe you want
to see the pictures.

- Maybe.
- Maybe I can find them.

I'll bet you
a hundred bucks you can.

It's not a question of money.

I just think that
any time one American...

can help another American...

I'm sorry to intrude...

but there are
important developments.

What is it now?

I have good news,
and I have bad news.

About the coffins, there is
a railroad strike in Bologna...

so they put the coffins
on a plane...

and now the airport
is fogged in.

- Naturally.
- But they say it will fog out.

About the health certificate,
I finally reached Dr. Galupo...

on the phone
in the operating room.

He cannot come.

Why not? How long
does it take him to operate?

You do not understand.
They are operating on him.

Double hernia.

So now we are trying to get
the municipal doctor from Capri.

- About the export license...
- Go ahead. Pour it on.

You know my nephew in Naples.

He is not in Naples.
He is in Firenze.

But he is going to help us.

So he will take a plane
from Firenze to Naples...

that is, unless the fog moves
from Bologna to Firenze.

All right, let's have
the good news.

That was the good news.
The bad news is...

Something mysterious
has happened.

What?

You remember the bodies
in the mortuary?

Of course I remember them.

They're not there anymore.

What do you mean,
"They're not there anymore"?

They are missing.

Signore Cipriani informs me that
when he locked up the place...

the bodies were gone.

Gone? Gone where?

That is the mystery.

When he looked in at 5:00,
the bodies were still there...

and so was Miss Piggott.

He saw her pull up the shade
and open the window.

That kook.
That sentimental idiot.

Please. You don't really think
she took the bodies?

That's preposterous.

Preposterous to you,
preposterous to me...

but not to her, because
she's off her rocker!

Hello. Get me
Miss Piggott's room.

- I don't know the number.
- 126.

Just get her.

Let us be logical.
How could she manage?

A little girl like that?
Two bodies?

Little girl? She's built
like a Japanese wrestler.

What? Try the lobby.
Try the souvenir shop.

How the hell should
I know? Get her paged!

Signore Cipriani tells me...

he will have to report this
to the police.

No police.
We don't want any police.

We don't want any reports.

We're gonna handle
this ourselves.

Here. Get yourself
some ice cream. Bye-bye.

You'd better start checking...

on that family plot
up at the cemetery.

I don't believe it.

There must be
some other explanation.

What other explanation?

Who the hell else is gonna
want those two bodies...

Dr. Christian Bernard?

Goddamn you, Miss Piggott.

Hello, Emily. How are you?

It's Baltimore.

I'm sorry. I thought
you were Miss Piggott...

the interpreter.
Ding-a-ling.

She keeps fouling everything up.

I can't fire her. I need her.

No problems. Just a few
loose ends here and there...

but I am on top
of the situation.

Yes, I'm positive.
There will be no postponement.

The State Department?
Don't bother.

I don't need any help
from the State Department.

Yes. I saw him this afternoon
at the mortuary.

I haven't seen him lately.

How's mother?

I hope she's all right
for the services.

We certainly don't want
any hysterics...

with television and everything.

Thank God it'll be
a closed casket.

Have you heard
from Billy Graham?

That's good. Listen.

What do you think
if he did the eulogy?

Because I'm so
emotionally involved.

Ask him. What's all the noise
in the background?

Kids are watching
the Baltimore Orioles.

What's the score?

Give them my love...
between innings.

And kiss-kiss.

Where the hell is that Piggott?

I checked with the cemetery.

No bodies.
As for Miss Piggott...

- What about her?
- She's in her room.

She will not answer
the telephone.

She will not open the door.

She won't?

Please, no violence.
This is a first-class hotel.

Sure.

And if she really is a kook,
one wrong move, one push...

and she will fall
off that rocker.

God knows what she will do.

I better play it cool.
Watch me. Caldo.

I mean, freddo.

Go away.

Would you please open the door?

Go away.

I have this problem...

because there's
no saponi in my bagno.

There's no soap in my bathroom.

Please.

No.

No?

Cool.

You promised.

Where are you?

Did I wake you up?

If you don't leave immediately,
I shall call the concierge.

I've been giving a great deal
of thought to our relationship.

Operator.

And I have
a sneaking suspicion...

there's something wrong with it.

Operator, get me
the concierge.

The trouble is, we got off
on the wrong foot.

I've been called plump,
I've been called pudgy...

I've been called chubby...

but I've never
been called fat-ass!

- Did I say that?
- You certainly did.

Shame on me.

The truth of the matter is...

I kind of like girls
with a little upholstery...

here and there.
I think most men do.

I know we have this
chemical plant in New Jersey.

And you know what
our fastest-moving item is?

Silicone for injections.

Take those models in "Vogue,"
like Twiggy and all the rest...

nothing but skin and bones.

A man gets lucky,
and he ends up black and blue.

You could even cut yourself.

Like making it
with a pogo stick.

Are you looking for something?

When you first
brought up this notion...

in the morgue
this afternoon...

What notion?

About having the two
buried together.

I didn't think
you were really serious.

I'm as sentimental
as the next man...

but we're grownup people...

and if you look at
this thing realistically...

What I'm trying to say
is I can take a joke.

A joke? Lovers resting
in peace, side by side?

Is that your idea of a joke?

All right, damn it!
Where are they?

What the hell
did you do with them?

I don't know what you mean.

Yes, you do! Come on!
Quit horsing around!

I am not to be shouted at.

I am under orders
of my psychiatrist.

You got a psychiatrist.
I'm not surprised.

It's because
of my weight problem.

He's got me
on a diet and pills...

and self-hypnosis
and sleep therapy.

He wants me to sleep a lot...

because you can't eat
while you're sleeping.

Sometimes I sleep
around the clock.

Good for you. Right now
all I want to know...

Right now, I'm going to
have my dinner...

I'm going to
hypnotize myself...

and if you want to have
any further discussion...

come back tomorrow afternoon.

Tomorrow afternoon?
For Christ's sake!

Don't you understand?
I'm on a schedule!

You're shouting again.

And in my weakened condition...
an apple three times a day...

and a teaspoonful of honey.

Get me the dining room.

Please call
from your own phone.

I'd like to make
a reservation for two.

The name is Armbruster...
Armbruster Jr.

Really?
That would be nice.

Shall we say
in about 20 minutes?

Guess what table we got.

Just turn off
the light and go.

Where they had dinner
every night.

I thought that would be
kind of nice...

if we had the same table,
same wine, same music.

You should have heard
the maitre d'...

when I made the reservation.

He had tears in his voice.

This is no time to be
stubborn or selfish.

This has nothing to do
with you or me.

It's more like
a farewell gesture to them.

They would like that!

Shall we say
in about 20 minutes?

The fog in Bologna,
it has moved out...

and the coffins are on the way.

Great. First we had
bodies and no coffins.

Now we have coffins
and no bodies.

I have searched the hotel
with fine-tooth comb...

even the mud baths.

Of course, you must be.

Same face, same suit.

Good evening.

The table is ready.

Not yet. I'm waiting
for the young lady.

Of course.
You will wait at the bar.

Everything has been anticipated.

- Here you are.
- What's that?

A whisky sour
on the sour side...

and for the lady,
a Bacardi on the sweet side.

- That's what they used to have?
- Always.

Always.

That's Baron Forshmetelli.

He's ninety years old.

Been coming here since
before World War I.

Remarkable. This place
must take years off your life.

It certainly does.

Every year his nurses, they keep
getting younger and younger.

I'm sorry to be late.

I had trouble
getting into my dress.

Actually,
it's my mother's dress.

That's only fair. Actually,
this is my father's suit.

Here's your drink.

What's this?

It's a Bacardi for you
and a whiskey sour for me.

That's what they always had.

I don't drink.

Look, Miss Piggott... Pamela...

if this evening is to be
a salute to them...

then please don't louse it up.

Of course not.

To mother and father.

Wherever they may be.

I think the captain
is signaling. Table twelve.

Yes. Thank you.

Welcome. I welcome you.

The orchestra welcomes you.

That was their favorite tune.

How very thoughtful.

Madam always sat
on your father's left.

Of course.
It was his good ear.

Shall we start
with a little pasta?

We have spaghetti, spaghettini,
spaghettoni, macaroni...

cannelloni, rigatoni,
tortellini, fettuccine...

tagliarini, buccatini,
manicotti, bumbalotti...

cappelotti, crosetti,
fuccitti, tranetti...

pappadelli, tagliatelli...

Tell me, what would
they have had?

A few gnocchi, a few ravioli...

and some green noodles
for color.

Perfect.

As for the wine...

they would always have a Bianco
Lela 1961 with the pasta...

and the Carba De Salaparucta
with the entree.

Any special entree
that they liked?

Indeed. I have
taken the liberty...

of ordering
duck a I'orange for two.

Super.

Not for me.
I brought my dinner.

In that case, I'll have
the duck a I'orange...

for two for one.

Would madam like
a little cheese with that?

No, thank you.

Shall I take it out to
the kitchen and have it peeled?

I'll manage.

Very good.

I admire your willpower.

Do you know how much I weigh?

91/2 stone.
That's 133 pounds.

I'm determined to lose
at least 2 stone.

You came to the right place.
Michelangelo lost 3 stones here.

Bertram and I, we used to go...

to an Italian
restaurant in Soho...

but it was nothing like this.

The waiters were all Greek,
and the cook was Chinese.

Who's Bertram?

My boyfriend.

We've been together now
for a year and a half.

What you would call shacked up.

Would you like to see
his picture?

Sure.

That's Bertram,
the one in the middle.

- Plays lead guitar.
- Is that so?

They're a terrific group.

They call themselves
the Four Apostles.

Matthew, Mark, Luke...

And Bertram.

He's also a terrific composer.

Right now, he's writing
a rock musical called Splash.

Splash?

Yes. It's about the sinking
of the Titanic.

You know, I must admit,
I feel rather guilty.

Why?

You're not eating.

I mean about mother and father.

Really? Why? What about them?

Here we are at their table...

enjoying ourselves
while they're lying there...

Yeah, lying where?

On the other hand...

they would have hated
tears and wailing.

They weren't exactly
a conventional couple...

were they?

Maybe I'll just have
one ravioli.

Certainly.

You know what they would do
sometimes at dawn?

Go swimming in the bay.

Yes, I heard.
In the bay and in the nude.

Then they'd lie on a rock...

basking in the sun
like two baby seals.

Baby seal...

That gray-haired, self-righteous
son of a... bitch.

You keep calling him that.

I have nothing against sex...
premarital, extramarital.

You name it, and I'm for it.

Just because a man's
married, that doesn't...

mean that he can't have a...

thing, you know,
with a secretary...

or with an airline stewardess.

Let's say that you're
at a convention in Hawaii...

and you meet some chick.

OK, swell. You swing
for a couple of nights...

but then aloha.

I see. You can swing with
ten chicks a year. That's OK.

But if you're in love with
the same woman for ten years...

that makes you
a son of a bitch.

Love is for filing clerks...

but not for the head
of a conglomerate.

Thirty-seven companies
the man had.

Can I have a couple
of those green noodles?

For color?

That's Italian
for my mother's name.

Figures.

Your father
used to call her Kate...

and she called him Willie.

What do you know?

Sorry you never met her.

She was a bloody
marvelous woman.

Yes, I'm sure she was.
Look, Miss Piggott...

I appreciate how you
feel about your mother.

If you want to bury her
in Ischia, why not?

But when it comes to Willie...
when it comes to my father...

Basically, it's
a question of weather.

In England, people
should be buried indoors.

How's the weather in Baltimore?

Not very good, really.

There you are.

Here you have the sun
twelve months a year.

There's no need to lie
in a damp grave.

It gets so cold and...
so lonely.

Do you mind
if we speak English?

Why English?

I do not want anybody
to hear this.

It is confidential.

Who are you?

Let us say I am...

from the lost-and-found
department.

From where?

Tell me, Mr. Armbruster...
is he perhaps, by any chance...

missing something?

Or should I say two somethings
from the morgue?

I hate to break the spell...

but before you've lost
yourself completely...

could I ask you just for
one moment to be reasonable?

I'll try.

Just think.

Come Tuesday,
there will be 216,000 people...

watching that funeral
in Baltimore.

What will it look like
if there's no corpse?

That would look bad.

It would be a catastrophe.

Hello.

Mr. Carlucci's trying
to catch your eye.

You don't know
the people in Baltimore.

What was
a beautiful romance...

they'd twist into something
ugly and sordid.

We can't let that happen.

I'm glad you're beginning
to see things my way.

But why should there
be no corpse?

No reason, if you'll
just cooperate.

But what can I do?

Excuse me.

What's so important?

I was finally getting somewhere.

You're wasting your time.
She didn't take the bodies.

What?

I kept telling you.

But there is a man in the lobby.
He knows where they are.

He assured me they are
in excellent condition...

and he wants to know
if you're interested...

in getting them back.

- Who is he?
- He won't say.

He won't? He won't?

You must not antagonize him,
or the price will go up.

What price?

I don't know yet,
but I'm sure there is a price.

All right, you creep,
where are they?

It's going to be more expensive.

If you'd care to come with me...
my car is outside.

This is where
the accident happened.

We were all asleep
in the house...

when there was
this terrible noise.

So we ran to bottom
of vineyard...

and the car, it was smashed.

And the two, they are dead.

And she is holding him
like this.

And the radio,
it's playing "Hello, Dolly."

I think that's very touching.

It sure is.

This way, please.

This is Alberto Trotta.

This is Papa Trotta.

And Uncle Trotta.

This is Grandpapa Trotta.

And I am Armando Trotta.

That's a lot of Trottas.

You bet your sweet patootie.

Arnoldo and I...

we used to work with
American armed forces.

Black market.

What's your racket now?
Body-snatching?

We sit down and write you
nice business letter...

asking for damages,
and the Signore Carlucci...

he calls on telephone
and tells me to "screw."

I did not say screw.
I said sue.

Sue? You take bodies
out of country...

we take case to court.

It takes many years,
and in the end...

all the money,
it goes to lawyers.

So you just stole them?

Stole? That is such
an ugly word.

Let us say we are keeping them
temporarily in... escrow?

Where?

They are very comfortable...

with candles all around
and a baby-sitter.

And you will get them
back as good as new...

for 2 million lira.

2 mil... They think
I'm some kind of a sucker.

2 million lira
for a piece of broken wall...

and some crushed grapes?

That's nothing.

But when there has been
death in vineyard...

the wine turns sour.

- Who says so?
- Is old Italian proverb.

I never heard of it.

All right, all right.

Let us ask some old Italians.

Don't believe a word they say.

Neapolitans, you know.
Let me deal with them.

Neapolitans?
That's bush-league.

I've bargained with
the teamsters union.

Watch me handle this.

Hey, you. Big Trotta.

There you are.

They know the proverb.

The hell with that.
I'm a very busy man.

I don't want any haggling
or dickering.

Here's my offer,
fast, firm, nonnegotiable.

A million lira.

Our family, it is big.

Our vineyard, it is small.
It cannot support us.

Three of our brothers,
they work in Carrara...

digging for marble...

With all the dust in the lungs.

All right,
a million and a half.

Two of our sisters
are prostitutes in Milano.

Other prostitutes...

they use Ferraris
and Alfa Romeos...

but our sisters,
they have to work on bicycles.

OK, 2 million lira,
but not one cent more.

I could not have
handled it better myself.

And now we'll have some wine
and some goat cheese...

and play bocce, yes?

All right, here you are.

$3,500?

That's 2 million lira, isn't it?

We cannot take this from you.

Why not?

You are such a good man,
so simpatico.

We do not want this.

What do you mean,
you don't want it? Come on.

We want it,
but not in dollars.

We take Swiss francs,
we take German marks...

we take Japanese yens...

but with your economy
sick like a dog, no dollars.

To repeat... at noon,
we meet behind the morgue.

You will bring
the German marks.

We will bring bodies.

We will also bring
fresh flowers... no charge.

Do you realize I've gone
forty hours without sleep?

I'm gonna hit the sack
and just flake out.

- I envy you.
- When do you sleep?

In the winter.

Your crepes suzette.
I've kept them warm.

Good morning.

I hope you're not angry with me.

Angry with you?

I ordered some champagne
for the gentlemen.

Why not?

I'm sorry I suddenly
disappeared like that.

It was a minor crisis.

As long as you're not too late.

Yes, I had to straighten
something out.

The curve in the road
where the accident happened...

You don't happen to have
a shoehorn, do you?

- What?
- Never mind.

I've been thinking about
that funeral in Baltimore.

Where's it going to be?

First Presbyterian Church. Why?

Because I want to send a wreath.

A wreath?

With some ribbons and something
printed on it in gold.

Like what?

I thought you might
have some suggestions.

- No.
- What, no suggestions?

No wreath.

How about a simple,
"Ciao, Willie"?

Nobody would ever know.

The family has
specifically requested...

Why don't you just give
a small contribution...

to your favorite charity?

Shall I serve
the crepes suzette?

Not now.

If we don't hurry,
we'll miss it.

- What? Miss what?
- The sunrise.

I don't know why I'm
bothering with these.

I'll just have to
take them off anyway.

What was that with the sunrise?

Over Mount Vesuvius
and swimming out to the rock.

You mean, you and me...

Wasn't that the whole idea?

Fat chance!

I'm sorry.
I didn't mean it that way.

It's nothing personal,
you understand.

Could you help me
with my zip, please?

Certainly.

If you'll just
give me a minute...

I'm sure I could find us
a couple of bathing suits.

But why bother?

I don't want you to think
that I'm stuffy or uptight.

I'm considered
a pretty groovy catch.

You know, tuned in.

Like when I'm on business
in Los Angeles...

I always have lunch
at a topless... place.

Just because I don't have
the long sideburns...

that doesn't mean that...

Did you ever hear
of "Old Calcutta"?

I've seen it twice,
and "Carnal Knowledge," too.

Yeah, the permissive society...

age of Aquarius,
sexual revolution...

I'm into all of that.

Take the secretaries
in our home office...

always wearing
those hot pants.

There's nothing
wrong with that...

just as long as they're worn
by consenting adults.

Please keep in mind
that it's Sunday...

and this is
a Catholic country...

and they may think
it's in very poor taste.

Can you hear me?

Oh, my God.

Are you all right?

I'm fantastic.

I'll give you one minute
to catch your breath.

Then we're gonna swim back.

What's the rush?

No rush. Just a little cold
in here in the water.

Nice and warm here,
just lying in the sun...

with your eyes closed.

Yeah? Are your eyes closed?

Why?

Nothing. Just asking.

Here we are...

basking like two baby seals.

Wonder what they talked
about... Willie and Kate.

I'm sure they didn't
talk at all.

They would just listen.

To the wind and the waves...

and the beat, beat, beat
of their foolish hearts.

Why not?

When you're in love,
you don't need words.

A look, a touch, a sigh...
you've said it all.

That's not bad.
I should try that on my wife.

Every time I come home
from work completely pooped...

she always wants to know
why I don't talk to her.

Do you and Bertram...

Do you communicate much?

We haven't talked
for six months.

Beautiful.
You must really dig each other.

The fact of the matter is...

we haven't seen each other
for six months.

The bastard walked out on me...

stole my telly,
two Picasso posters...

and my hairdryer.

There's an apostle for you.

Moved in with some
skinny girl in Kensington.

When I found out,
would you believe...

I tried to commit suicide?

- No.
- Yes.

I took my week's salary...

bought myself a suitcase
full of fish and chips...

and a dozen bottles
of Guinness stout...

and tried to
eat myself to death.

Took them hours
to pump my stomach out.

Was it worth it
for a guy like that?

It was stupid,
but I've learned my lesson.

Good.

No more fish and chips.

I guess there is something...

to what it says
in the tourist guide.

What does it say?

It says,
"ltaly is not a country.

"It's an emotion."

It's certainly been
an experience.

I'm afraid we have
some sightseers.

Please. Where's
your British reserve?

Here.

Maybe you can use these.

That was quite
the loveliest night of my life.

Thank you.

You're entirely welcome.
See you around.

What's up?

It's an emergency.
The Baron Forshmetelli's suite.

I hope it's not a heart attack.

That old crock,
I wouldn't be surprised.

No, it's not the baron.
It's one of the nurses.

Good night, Willie.

Good night, Kate.

Good morning, sir.
Are you all right?

What?

Because they told me,
at seven this morning...

you asked for
two bottles of aspirin.

Oh, that.
I just needed the cotton.

Damn bells. You talk
about noise pollution.

There are 68 churches in Ischia.
They all want the business.

How's that nurse?
She all right?

Yes. Just a slipped disk.

The three of them,
they were playing frogleap.

The word is leapfrog.

I would rather not know.

I have come to give
a progress report.

- How we doing?
- We are making progress.

I have met with
the Trotta brothers.

I gave them German marks.

The bodies are back
in the morgue.

Good.

The doctor from Capri
has examined them.

I have the health
certificates right here.

What about the coffins?

They arrived this morning,
all three of them.

Three?

The two from Bologna
and that first one...

that I ordered
from Amalfi, remember?

There is no refund,
no exchange.

No big deal.
Make a lamp out of it.

About my nephew.

He got to Naples,
and his friend...

let him into
the license bureau...

even though
it's closed on Sunday...

and he got
the export license.

Then we're all set.

Yes and no,
because this nephew...

he gets tickets
for speeding all the time...

and while he was
in that empty building...

he got to the file...

and he removed ten
of his traffic citations...

and now he's in jail.

What about the export license?

They're holding that
as evidence.

But not to worry.

When the court opens
in the morning...

I have a cousin
who is a lawyer.

I will get to him straightaway.

He is the worst lawyer
in Naples...

but fortunately,
he and the judge...

they have the same mistress.

Is that what you call
Italian justice?

What about Sacco and Vanzetti?

When are you people
going to learn...

how to make
a decent cup of coffee?

You know what I had
for breakfast?

Hot Pepsi-Cola.

- What's that?
- Your shorts.

They washed up on the beach.

My shorts? What makes you think
they're my shorts?

Maybe I am wrong.

Maybe they belong
to the young lady.

Just put them down, will you?

About those photographs
I mentioned...

your father and his friend.

I have searched and searched
and searched...

- And?
- I found them.

Of all places,
they were inside my mattress.

Is this the complete set?

Absolutely.
That's the beauty of Polaroid...

no negatives and just one print.

Fair enough. What was our deal?
I owe you a hundred bucks?

No, please...

You want Swiss francs
or German marks?

I told you, it's not
a question of money.

I don't need money.
What I need is...

A visa.

A visa?

Yes. I want to go
back to America...

and you can help me.

How?

You know all the big shots...

senators,
the State Department...

Dr. Kissinger.
You can pull strings.

Not a chance.

Not once you've been
deported as a criminal.

A criminal?
I'm not a criminal.

I'm a patriot.

You know why they deported me?

There were
all these hippies...

demonstrating
in Washington Square...

calling our President
filthy names...

and burning the American flag...

on July 4th, with police
all around doing nothing.

So I got pissed off...

and pulled my gun
out of my holster...

and what do you think happened?

The cops arrested me.
It was a bum rap.

Give me all the details,
and then when I get back...

This can't wait.

You know that maid Anna...
with the mustache?

- What about her?
- She wants me to marry her.

Congratulations.

God forbid.

If there is one thing worse
than a Sicilian woman...

it's a Sicilian woman
who's pregnant.

I must get out of here fast.

I sympathize with you,
and I'll do all I can...

but I can't make you
any promises.

I am counting on you.

Because, you see...

I have other photographs...

taken this morning.

Same rock, same sunrise...

different bodies.

So you better try very hard.

Wait a minute.

Where are those pictures?

They are not in my mattress.

You miserable little crook, I'll
beat the bejesus out of you!

What a day.
Do you believe it?

And how about all those bells?
Smashing, aren't they?

Smashing is right.

If you need me, just ring.

Is it all right
if I go into your bathroom?

Yeah, by all means.

Don't let me interrupt. Go ahead
and finish your breakfast.

Isn't the coffee here fabulous?

What happened?

What's the matter?
Did you burn yourself?

Guess what.

I weighed myself
on my own scales...

but I didn't believe it,
so I came here to check.

- I've lost three pounds.
- Really?

After that enormous meal
last night...

and strawberries
and cream this morning...

and bacon and eggs
and croissant and butter.

Wait till I see Dr. Shaftsbury.

They should defrock him
or disbar him...

or whatever they do.

- Who's Dr. Shaftsbury?
- My psychiatrist.

Him, yeah.

He kept telling me I was unhappy
because I was overweight.

Rubbish! Obviously
I was overweight...

because I was unhappy.
See what I mean?

Yes, I do.
I think I do.

How long will it take you?

Because I can be ready
in no time.

Why?

You know those carts
with the horses...

with the feathers
on their heads?

I thought maybe we could
take a ride around the island...

and stop for
a late lunch somewhere.

I'm starved again.

I'd like to,
but there's so many things...

I have to take care of
here at the hotel.

- It's our last day.
- There's still tonight.

Same program?

Dinner downstairs
and sunrise and...

Last night,
that was their thing.

I thought maybe tonight
we'd do something different...

an our thing.

Surprise me.

You can do my room now.

Here you are.

You call this
a first-class hotel?

If it is about the bed
not being made, I can explain.

Who cares about the bed?

It's about the valet
on this floor... Bruno.

You know about it?

I know he's
a goddamn blackmailer.

I ought to kill
that dirty little fink.

- It has all been taken care of.
- What has?

- The dirty little fink is dead.
- Dead?

Murdered.
He's lying in room 126...

with three bullets
in his chest.

Miss Piggott's room?

She had nothing to do with it.
It was the maid Anna.

She killed him,
and then she ran away.

That is why your bed
has not been made.

Terrible.

It's a tragedy.

If you lose a guest,
you can always replace him.

But to lose a valet and a maid
in the middle of the season...

Listen, that character Bruno,
he took some photographs.

Perfectly innocent, mind you...

but if they fell
into the wrong hands...

Don't worry. They fell
into the right hands.

I'm sorry. I had to look
just for a second...

but I had to make sure
who they belonged to.

Thanks.

There is just one thing
that puzzled me.

The black socks...

Is it because
you are in mourning?

- What's this?
- Miss Piggott's things.

We are moving them in here
temporarily, as a precaution.

- What precaution?
- The police will arrive...

and we do not
want her involved.

They will start asking
all kinds of questions.

And who knows
what may come out.

What would I do without you?

I have often wondered
about that.

I'm sorry,
but you have been moved.

Moved? Why?

I just follow orders.
You are now in 121-122.

But I was perfectly happy...

121-122?

Mr. Armbruster's suite.

I'm sorry
for the inconvenience.

Don't be.

It's me... Pamela.

Hi!

I'm in the tub.
Make yourself at home.

I must say,
you do have some cheek.

I do?

Aren't you taking
rather a lot for granted?

Just what made you think
that I would have...

the slightest interest
in this arrangement?

Did you say something?

Not that I expected
any subtlety from you.

After all, you're American.

You're accustomed to having
everything your own way.

You see something you want,
and you just grab it.

Come again?

London Bridge, for instance.

You simply took it apart
stone by stone...

and shipped it off
to someplace in the wild west.

Or the Queen Mary,
with all that tradition...

sitting there off
the coast of California...

reduced to
a floating cafeteria.

What the hell
are you talking about?

Such conceit, such arrogance.

You act as though
you own the world.

Playing golf on the moon.
Now, really.

Me, I play golf
at the country club.

Twelve handicap.

And then you wonder
why people don't like you.

Because you're like
spoiled children...

no manners,
no consideration.

You don't just pick up
the phone and say...

"Move that bird
in here from 126."

If I'm to have
an affair with someone...

I'd like to know it first...

and not hear about it
from the concierge.

Oh, my god. The bags.

Wait a minute!

A girl likes to be asked.

She should be given
a chance to say no.

Miss Piggott...

She wants to be talked into it.

What we have here is
a failure of communication.

It's not that I'm
women's lib or anything.

I don't mind being treated
as a sex object...

but it's like any other game.

You have to play
according to the rules...

or it takes
all the fun out of it.

Hang on a minute
before things get out of hand!

Hello? Hello?

Baltimore?

Yes, this is
Mr. Armbruster's suite.

Could you speak up
a bit, please?

I'm sorry. Wendell can't
come to the phone right now.

He's in the bathroom.

Can I help you?

This is Miss Piggott.

Am I the what?

The interpreter?

Whatever gave you that idea?

Hello? Hello?

- This...
- You're dripping.

Whatever you may think
of Americans...

I do not consider you
"a bird."

- I do not take you for granted...
- Thank you.

About your things being here...

there was no time
to ask you.

You were out of the hotel,
and under the circumstances...

it seemed the most
practical thing to do.

- I understand.
- No, you don't.

You were moved
out of your room...

for your own protection,
for our protection.

We do have to be very careful.

I said surprise me,
and you certainly did.

You're taller than I thought.

What... The bed.

Have you noticed
it's not been made up?

I'll do it later.

That's because
of Anna, the maid.

It seems that she was pregnant
by Bruno, the valet.

The things that go on
on this floor.

She wanted to get married,
but he didn't.

He wanted to go back
to America...

but there was a problem
because he'd been deported.

So he wanted me to help him,
and she found out about it...

Is this going to be
a long story?

Anyway, the maid...
she's Sicilian, you know...

she got a gun, and she
shot him just like that.

Three bullets right
through the photographs.

And that's why your bags...

All clear. The body
has been removed.

The police have left the hotel.

So we can now take
Miss Piggott's luggage...

back to her room.

I'll take care of that.

As I was trying to tell you...

The murder... She shot him
in your room.

We had to move you
out of there fast...

before the police got there.

Then this was not
exactly an... invitation?

Not really.

As a matter of fact,
it was Carlucci's idea.

How stupid.

No, it wasn't.
Because the Italian police...

once they start
asking questions...

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

It's just one of those things.
It's nobody's fault.

Fortunately,
I'm only half unpacked.

These things happen.

I remember I was invited...

to a New Year's Eve party
in New York.

3 East 72nd Street.
I had a ball!

It wasn't until
the next morning...

I found out I was
at the wrong party.

It was 3 West 72nd Street.

Don't you think that's funny?

Put it through. Baltimore.

They called you before.

Hello.

Hello, Emily. How are you?

Is something wrong?

What was that?

Wait a minute.
Miss Piggott?

I told you before,
she's the interpreter.

Who says she isn't?

She did?

I can explain that.

She's English,
and we're in Italy.

She can't get a labor permit...

and naturally,
she's not going to admit...

What do you mean,
she's in my room all the time?

I don't mind you getting
a little jealous now and then...

but isn't this ridiculous?

Do you think that I,
at a time like this...

What music?

OK, all right!

Go ahead! Have it your way!

I've got a gypsy band
up here...

incense is burning,
the booze is flowing!

Miss Piggott and I
are playing frogleap bare-assed!

Is that any better?

Just to put
your mind at rest...

you needn't be worried
one bit...

because if you saw me,
I'm short, I'm fat...

and I'm not
very attractive. OK?

All right, Emily,
you satisfied now?

Let's just forget
the whole incident.

Yes, I should be out
of here by tomorrow.

Everything's all wrapped up.

One small snag in Naples...
the export license.

Blodgett? Jo Jo Blodgett?

Yes, I know he's with
the State Department.

A friggin' bore.

He's stationed in Paris?

There is no reason to contact...

all right, if worse
comes to worst.

Yeah, I'll tell her.

Kiss-kiss.

Mrs. Armbruster said
to apologize to you.

No need.

Personally, I thought
you overdid it a little.

I was just telling the truth.

Come on. Stop
putting yourself down.

I'm sure there's
any number of men...

who'd find you very attractive.

Oh, yes.
No-good bastard Bertram...

and some sex-starved
sardine fishermen...

and the local coroner, who took
me for a ride on his scooter...

and then pinched my behind.

If it's of
any interest to you...

you know who finds you
attractive? Me.

I find you attractive.

Don't bother. I'll survive.

This isn't the first time
I've made a fool of myself.

Excuse me.

Would you consider it
impertinent...

if I asked you
to step on the scales?

- Yes, I would.
- Please?

I really don't care anymore.

It's not the weight,
it's the height.

Why don't you
just make a contribution...

to your favorite charity?

Are you guys sure
this is Ischia?

Reasonably sure, sir.

Because I don't want
to land in Africa.

That would be bigger, sir.

Maybe it's one
of those Greek islands.

No, sir. Greece is
way to the left.

Not as long as I'm
with the State Department.

Go away! Go away!

What the hell is
the name of this place?

Ischia, but you cannot land.

What do you mean, we can't land?

It is lunchtime.
Come back later.

My good man, do you know
to whom you're talking?

I do not talk to anybody.

Lunchtime!

Let me make one thing
perfectly clear.

I am Joseph J. Blodgett...

United States Government,
State Department...

and I'm here
on an emergency mission...

concerning an American citizen.

OK, boys, stand by.

And you better start clearing
some of these seats out...

so we have room
for the coffin.

Roger.

Tell me, how far
is this hotel?

Grand Hotel Excelsior,
five kilometers.

OK, OK. What do we do
about transportation?

No transportation.
Lunchtime!

What the hell is going on
in this country?

This wouldn't have happened
in the old days.

You remember Mussolini?

Christ.

What's the matter?

Just thinking about
going back home.

I hate the whole idea.

- Thank you.
- Right after the funeral...

there's going to be
a board of directors meeting...

and probably a proxy fight...

and I'll have to spend
a week in Washington...

because they're investigating
the Armbruster Foundation.

And there's that strike...

at our electronics plant
in Wisconsin.

And we'll probably
have to recall...

250,000 square feet
of artificial turf...

because they said...

there's too much lead
in the green paint.

Goddamn Ralph Nader.

Who asked him?

Guess we all have our problems.

I have to pick up my cat
from the vet's in Bayswater.

Hope the garage will have
my Mini Morris fixed by now.

And I really should
repaint my kitchen.

Can I have your croissant?

Of course. You can have
anything you want.

About your flat in London...

Won't you need a new
television and hairdryer...

all that stuff that
your apostle ran off with?

Don't bother.
I dry my hair in the oven...

and I really
don't watch the telly.

It's always the same...

northern Ireland
and Princess Anne...

and the Common Market.

Pamela... my father
and your mother...

Now, during all those years,
didn't he ever give her any...

He must have helped her out
from time to time.

Financially.

You want to know whether
my mother was a kept woman?

After all, a man likes
to show his gratitude.

Maybe an occasional present?

Every Christmas,
he would send her...

a dozen long-stemmed roses
to the Savoy hotel.

Your mother was well-to-do?

No. She was making
£15 a week and tips.

On £15 a week,
she was living at the Savoy?

She wasn't living there.
She was working there...

as a manicurist.

Did my father know that?

She didn't want him to know.

Why not?

I told you the first day.

She loved him.
She didn't want any tips.

That'll be Carlucci.

"I have good news.

"The arrangements,
they have all been made."

I guess it's checking-out time.

Yes.

Did Miss Piggott
enjoy her kippers?

No, that's not why I called.

I called to tell you
that Anna the maid...

she has been arrested
by the police...

in a rowboat trying
to escape to Sicily.

And the bodies,
they are in the coffins...

and all ready for shipment.

Let me see...
there was something else.

The judge in Naples,
he has had a slight stroke.

Wait a minute. What judge?

I don't know
any judge in Naples.

Yes, you do.

The one with the same mistress
as my cousin the lawyer...

who was going to get
my nephew out of jail.

She was going to help him,
but she helped him too hard...

and the judge, he always had
high blood pressure.

What are you trying to tell me?

We have no export license,
is that it?

More or less.

Now they will have to
appoint a new judge.

That may take a day or two.

We sure are running
in bad luck.

It's not your fault.
It's the way it goes.

Don't worry about it.
I still like you.

Problems?

We may be stuck here
for another couple of days.

That's terrible.

Yeah.

What about the funeral?

Oh, boy!
All those people...

the closed-circuit TV,
glee club...

I'll just have to call
Baltimore.

If it has to be postponed,
it has to be postponed.

- I'm so sorry.
- What can I do?

You've certainly done
everything you could.

How about you and your plans?

We're not that busy
in the shop.

I'm sure mother won't mind.
She's in no hurry...

to get back to the rain
and the cold.

I guess dad
wouldn't mind, either.

They deserve another
couple of days together...

don't you think?

Thank you.

My pleasure!

What room is he in?

Just a moment.
Your name, please?

Here. I'll talk to him.

Wendell, boy?

Jo Jo Blodgett,
State Department.

How are you, kid?
Emily called me last night...

told me about
your little problem.

Damn it. I told her
not to bother you.

I'm sorry, Jo Jo.
I realize you've got...

more important things
to do in Paris.

Sure do.
That's why I grabbed...

the first plane to Rome
this morning.

Borrowed a helicopter
from the sixth fleet.

You're on Ischia?
Where? At the airport?

Better than that, kiddo.
I'm right here in the lobby.

You're in the lobby!

That's great.

That's what I
really call service.

Why don't you
just check in, wash up...

and we'll have a drink
later in the afternoon.

What drink? What later?

I got to get
back to Paris tonight.

I'm taking Julie
and David Eisenhower...

to dinner at Maxim's.
So we got to get cracking.

We haven't got a minute to lose.
Be right with you.

What's that room number?

What are we going
to do with this?

What are we going
to do with you?

I am Carlo Carlucci,
director of the hotel.

Such a pleasure
to have you here.

Thank you.

It may interest you to know
we once had...

another famous American diplomat
staying here once...

Mr. Benjamin Franklin.

Franklin? Yes, Ben Franklin.

A good man for his time.

Of course,
today I'm not sure...

he could pass
the security check.

Would you like to see his room?

It is in the old part
of the building.

Not now!

Excuse me. I would like
your advice about something...

straight from the horse's mouth.

Do you think there will be
a war in the Middle East?

We don't give out
that kind of information.

I have been offered a job...

with a chain of American
hotels... the Sheraton.

There are a couple of openings,
and one of them is in Damascus.

Don't quote me on this,
but with the Russian presence...

escalating
in the Mediterranean...

and the military posture
of the Arabs stiffening...

and the first-strike capability
of the Israelis at its peak...

the whole place is a powder keg.

Could blow up
in your face any second.

My advice is forget Damascus.

Thank you. In that case,
I had better take the other job.

- What's that?
- The Sheraton in New York.

Take the one in Damascus.

- One more question.
- No more questions!

Come in.

Jo Jo Blodgett,
if I ever saw one.

Hi there.

How are you? Been a long time.

I haven't been back
to the States since '67.

That's it.
Halloween of '67.

Party at the country club.
You came dressed as Batman.

I'm sorry about
what happened to your father.

Look, it's 2:00
in the afternoon.

At 11:00 tomorrow morning...

you have a funeral
4,000 miles away...

and you're sitting here
getting a manicure?

This is Miss Tromboncino.
She works in the barber shop.

Could you possibly
speed it up a little?

She doesn't speak any English.

I get that all over the world.

Mind you, I don't object...

to foreigners speaking
a foreign language.

I just wish they'd all speak
the same foreign language.

- Odd.
- What's odd?

If I didn't know
how straight-laced you were...

and if I didn't know
that you were in mourning...

and if that dame
were about 20 pounds lighter...

- I would sort of suspect...
- Suspect what?

Mr. Blodgett, please.
That dame, she is my niece.

She was brought up
by the Carmelite sisters.

I was only kidding.

It is forgotten.

How many more fingers
has she got to go?

Relax, will you?

Relax nothing.
You're screwing up my timetable.

I've got that helicopter
standing by.

- Can I use your can?
- What for?

To wash my hands.

I mean, what's
the helicopter for?

To pick up the old boy.
We're going to fly him to Rome.

Then I'm going to put you
on the night plane to Baltimore.

- Tonight?
- Sure.

That's what you think.

This is Italy.
Nothing's that simple.

We're still hassling over
the export license.

Emily told me all about that.

It looks like we can't get
out of here before Wednesday.

I was about to phone home, tell
them to postpone the ceremony.

Postpone nothing.
Batman is here.

We don't need an export license.

We're gonna bypass
all that bull.

Bypass?
How can you do it?

No sweat. We're
appointing your father...

commercial attaché
to the embassy in Rome.

And that entitles him
to all the rights...

and immunities of a diplomat.

Wait a minute.
You're going to appoint him...

- Why not?
- A dead man?

Just proves that we don't
discriminate against anybody...

for reasons of race, creed,
color, or state of health.

You mean we handle him
just like a diplomatic pouch?

You bet. He goes
right through customs...

sealed coffin, no inspection,
no formalities at either end.

- That's kind of cute.
- That's nothing.

Someday I'll tell you
how we got Batista out of Cuba.

First on the agenda...

First, you wanted to go
to the can.

Can. That's right.

I'm sorry.
Mother would never forgive me.

Look at the wretched job
I did on your nails.

Tell me something.

Bruno's body.
What did they do with it?

It is lying in the morgue,
unclaimed. No family.

- Interesting.
- In what way?

We may have a use
for that third coffin.

That is very generous of you.

Your family plot,
does that offer still stand?

You're not suggesting
we bury Bruno there!

The Carluccis, they would
turn over in their graves.

I wasn't thinking of Bruno.

No?

You were thinking
of somebody else?

Maybe... two somebody elses?

My ancestors,
they will be honored.

We're not there yet.
There's a time element.

And we'll need
some transportation.

Transportation?
No sweat.

I will call the Trotta brothers.

You know you got...

a plate of scrambled eggs
in the bathtub?

- I do?
- And half a herring.

Now you understand why
I want that job with Sheraton.

OK, kid, here is the game plan.

You get dressed and packed.
Next, we collect your father.

Sure thing. As soon
as they open the morgue.

And I want some officials
at that airport.

I want the mayor
and what-have-you.

Of course.
Right after lunch.

- That will be 4:00.
- 4:00?

That's when they open
the mortuary.

That goddamn lunchtime again.

We pour in millions
of dollars of foreign aid...

just so they can sit
on their butts and...

What the hell is there to do
around here for two hours?

Tell him about the mud baths.

Mud baths?

World-famous.

For rheumatism, arthritis,
neuritis, phlebitis...

urinary complaints,
hyperacidity, male potency.

Is that so?

Come to think of it, I do have
a slight acid condition.

Maybe I'll give that
a little whirl.

By all means.

It is downstairs.
I will show you.

Be right back.

Where do we meet?

Let me put it all together,
and we'll meet at the airport.

Right-o.

That mud business...
does it really help?

I assure you, after one bath...

you will have the acidity
of a man of twenty.

Thank you.

It was your idea.

What's the name
of that orchestra here?

Sergio... something. Why?

We might as well go all the way.

I'm sure he'd enjoy it more...

than that glee club
in Baltimore...

the son of a bitch.

The marble, do you
want it white or pink?

Pink.

Very good. And the inscription?

I guess..."Willie and Kate."

"Willie and Kate."
That is all?

We don't want any weeping angels
or hearts intertwined.

Or do we?

How about
"Willie and Kate Carlucci"?

I'll go for that.

You make me very happy.

And there will be
tromboncini every Sunday.

After all, we are now
one big family.

Hold it, boys.

My father goes
on the other side.

Very important.
It's his good ear.

Damn!

What the hell took you so long?

Signore, in Italy,
when a coffin passes by...

people cross themselves.

They kneel down sometimes
in the middle of the road.

You just cannot...

All right, all right.

Over here, boys!
Let's get this thing down!

Poor Bruno.

If he knew what was
happening to him...

What do you mean, "poor Bruno"?

This is what he always wanted...
to go back to America.

Come on, boys.
Snap it up, will you?

Come on. It's getting late.

Will the witnesses
please step forward?

Raise your right hand
and repeat after me.

I, Wendell Armbruster Sr.,
do solemnly swear...

that I will uphold
and defend...

the Constitution
of the United States...

against all enemies
foreign and domestic...

and that I will perform
the duties of my office...

to the best of my ability,
so help me God.

Congratulations, sir.

And salute!

Ready, hup!

Thank you, gentlemen.
That concludes the ceremonies.

All right, load her up.

Here. You'll need this.

It's your father's
diplomatic passport.

You don't miss a trick, do you?

The C.I.A. Ran it off
for me last night.

The C.I.A.?

Never heard of them.
Let's go.

Good-bye, Pamela Piggott.

Have a good flight.
Don't work too hard.

Suppose I do?
The worst that can happen...

is I'll wind up
with a bad back.

The suite, it will be ready.

July 15th to August 15th.

If we should run into
each other again...

in the lobby
or the souvenir shop...

I promise you I'll be so thin.

You lose one pound,
just one pound...

and it's all over between us.