All language subtitles for A.Special.Day.1977.1080p.BluRay.H264.AAC_English

This film was restored from
the original picture and sound negatives

preserved by the rights holder,
Surf Film.

Director Ettore Scola
and cinematographer Luciano Tovoli

supervised the color grading process
to restore the special look

of cinematographer
Pasqualino De Santis's photography.

The restoration was done
by CSC-Cineteca Nazionale

at L'lmmagine Ritrovata in 2014.

BEST RESTORED FILM
VENICE FILM FESTIVAL 2014

A SPECIAL DAY

Original Idea and Screenplay by

Set Design by

Edited by

Produced by

Directed by

THE FÜHRER'S VISIT TO ITALY

After a moving farewell in Berlin

and great displays of affection

for the leader of the Third Reich

throughout his journey
across Germany,

the train carrying
the Führer enters Italy.

Jubilant greetings
from fascist organizations

all along the route

accompany Hitler
on his triumphal journey to Rome.

From the Brenner Pass to Rome,
Italy greets the Führer

with disciplined decorum
from her political factions

and sincere spontaneity
from the general public.

Meanwhile...

the capital
has prepared a welcome

of pomp combined with majestic
simplicity for the Führer.

The fascist emblem
meets the swastika,

and the two nations' flags
stream side-by-side in the wind.

At the Ostiense railway station,
Mussolini,

with his foreign minister,
Count Galeazzo Ciano,

greets His Imperial Majesty the King.

A single cannon shot heralds

the arrival of the Führer's train,

which is greeted by
the bugle call to attention

and the weighty notes
of the German national anthem.

With great solemnity,
the Führer of the new Germany

meets His Imperial Majesty

and II Duce,
founder of the empire.

After this initial cordial
exchange of greetings,

the first state meeting
between Mussolini and the Fuhrer

takes place
at the Quirinal Palace,

where the founder
of the empire is joined

by his ministers
Ciano, Starace, and Alfieri.

Shortly afterward,
the two leaders leave the palace

and take their places
in an open car,

followed by other cars carrying
ministers of the Third Reich:

Von Ribbentrop, Hess,

and Goebbels, who have meanwhile met
with their Italian counterparts.

Battalions from many regiments are
drawn up along the Circus Maximus

and from Viale Africa
to Porta San Paolo and Porta Capena,

an area hallowed for its remains
of the ancient Roman Empire.

Solemn military pomp
and circumstance accompany

the tribute
to the unknown soldier.

Immense serried ranks of legionnaires
fill Piazza Venezia.

The Fuhrer and four German soldiers
place a laurel wreath

with red ribbons and swastikas
on the tomb of the unknown soldier.

The two leaders stand at attention
in homage to the unknown hero.

After a barked command
has raised a forest of daggers,

a solemn hymn rises from
the massed ranks of legionnaires,

a slow hymn
full of virile tenderness:

the battle prayer
of the legionnaire.

Dear God

Thou who lightest every flame...

Listening to it, one understands

how the fighting spirit
of Mussolini's legionnaires,

forged in the trial of battle,

has become synonymous
with heroism and sacrifice.

The Führer's first day
in the Eternal City

comes to an end
before an immense crowd.

But the climax of the visit will come
tomorrow on the Via dei Fori imperiali,

where the full force of the mighty
Italian war machine will parade

before Hitler.

No citizen of Rome
would miss this historic event

that will seal
the pact of friendship

between two peoples
destined to be allies.

Umberto.

Umbè, get up.

Come on.
- Okay, okay.

Fabio. Arnaldo.

Get up.

Romana...

go use the bathroom first.
You take the longest.

Maria Luisa, wake up.

Emanuele.

Get up. lt's late.

She's busting my balls
at 5:00 a.m.!

Actually, it's close to 6:00.

6:00'?

Why didn't you
wake me up earlier?

This is the third time I've tried.

- Half a cup?
- I made it strong.

Maria Luì, get up.

You'd keep even Hitler waiting.

6:00! Now there's no time
to do my exercises.

Don't come home
so late next time.

Can't a man play cards
with his friends anymore?

Right. “Friends.”

Littorio, come on, sweetie.

I'm sleepy.

Getting a child up this early...

Don't blame me if you're late.

Come on, it's late.

Your ears.

Anyone in the can?

Come on, Fabio.

Come wash up in the kitchen.

Fabio, hurry up.
Your father's waiting.

- Don't push!
- I was here first.

My boots!

Give Littorio his cod liver oil.

Thirteen...

The heels are worn.
I'll take them in tomorrow.

Couldn't you have thought
of that yesterday?

You going to a parade
or a dance?

Lay off.

Those Serbs would grab Dalmatia
but we won't let that pass

If they try to take it
we'll kick 'em in the ass

You and your filthy language!

It's the patriotic song
we learned for the parade.

It's still vulgar.

What's this?

- How should I know?
- Lt's certainly not Saint Catherine.

You should be ashamed.
Your father would kill you.

He gave it to me!

I should have known.

Why should he care
if his son ruins his health?

You know you can go blind?

Just ask the priest.

Which priest?
The one who's half blind?

That's right.

He has cataracts, dummy.

And wash that stuff off your face.
You look ridiculous.

Aren't you getting dressed?
- I'm not going.

Great.
So they flunk you in school.

Why aren't you going?

Everyone teases me because...
l'm chubby.

You never heard of the ugly duckling?
Go on, get dressed.

- Mom, there's a hole in this.
- Too late now.

Maria Luì, watch the milk.
And put the cups out.

Will they feed us
after the parade?

Sure. Rations.

Will you help me
with my waistband?

Get up.

Move back.

Pull.
- Put your leg in.

Leave me alone.

Littorio won't get dressed.

- My arm's inside.
- Then be more careful!

I can't go like this.

Why not blow your nose
on it too?

You go around
dressed in rags anyway.

- They stole the pom-pom off my cap.
- “Pom-pom” is a foreign word!

Use “tassel” or “plume.”

Or Italianize it: pompono!

Try Italianizing
the literature you bring home.

What's with you?

Your mother got up
on the wrong side of the bed.

Mom, they pinched my... thingy.
What should I do?

I've only got two hands!

Hurry up, slowpokes!

- Our rally is at the Circus Maximus.
- Ours is at the Obelisk of Axum.

Still not ready?

I thought you might make
your bed before you leave.

So sorry I said anything.

- That's white.
- We'll die it black!

- Is breakfast ready?
- Yeah, yeah.

- Me first!
- Then go! You're always in the way!

- Don't touch me.
- You scare me.

Your fez. If you have to pee,
tell your squad leader.

- Don't pee in your shorts like before.
- But I did tell him!

Come on, squirt.

Since you're staying home,
iron my blue suit.

I'm celebrating Rinaldi's promotion
tomorrow with friends.

You know Rinaldi, right?
- No.

Sure you do.
He works in the archives.

Anyway, see you.

Good morning.
- Hello, Tiberi.

Daddy's little cub!

Remember: I want to hear
all about it tonight.

Good morning.
Aren't you coming?

Ah, that's right.
You don't have domestic help.

- Ciao, Antonié!
- Ciao, Mom!

Ma'am.

A family only gets one mother.

This family needs
at least three.

One to clean the rooms.

One to handle the kitchen.

And one to lie in bed all day.

I could be that one.

Mamma

My song wings its way
to you alone

Mamma

You'll be with me

You'll never again be alone

Might as well start here.

Jam.

Antoneta.

First the beds.

Leave it alone.

"In the Land of the Pygmies.”"

“Zounds, they're like leeches!”

"“Grab the Italian."

“Who'd have thought

creatures this small
could be such savage beasts.”

“Damnation!
Our only chance is to escape...

into the...”

Antoneta.

My name's Antonietta,
not Antoneta.

Get my name right...

or don't call me, okay?

Go easy on this cuttlebone.

It has to last till Friday.

I don't have time for you
this morning, you hear?

I'll give you your birdseed...

and you're set for the day.

Where are you going?

Rosmunda, come back!

Come back here!

This isn't funny!

Damn it!

Rosmunda! Good girl!

Stay there. Don't move.

Damned bird.

Signore!

I'm sorry,
but Rosmunda's escaped.

Rosmunda's escaped.

It's not a person.
It's a mynah bird.

I might catch her
by reaching out your window,

if you wouldn't mind.

Come in.

There she is.

Come here, girl.
I have some food.

Leave it alone.

Come on.

She hasn't eaten since yesterday.
She has to be hungry.

Come here.

Ma'am.

Put the birdseed on here
and see if she'll take it.

Come here.

Sorry for all the trouble,
but she's like one of the family.

If she escaped, there would be
lots of tears tonight.

I'm lucky
you didn't go to the parade.

I'd have liked to go,

but with a husband
and so many children to get ready -

Know how many I've got?

No...

it was no trouble.

No, I was saying
I have six kids.

One more and we get the government
bonus for large families, and -

You couldn't care less.

WW are you laughing?

Just because...

life is made up
of so many different moments,

and sometimes
I get this urge to laugh -

just like that, like a sneeze.

Does that ever happen to you?

You're laughing at me.

No, and even if I were,
I owe you thanks

for coming along
at this very moment.

I don't understand.

Don't worry about it.
I'm not my normal self today.

I'll be going. Thanks.

Wait!
May I offer you a drink?

Not that I have much.
This isn't really my place.

I have to go.

Sit down.
I'll make you some coffee.

I told you: I have to go.
Thanks.

As you wish.

Sorry about the mess.
- Have you read all those?

More or less. As I said,
I have lots of free time.

Or maybe I didn't say that.

The Four Musketeers!
Like the radio quiz show.

We play along every week.

There are only three
in this original version.

Would you like to read it?

I wish I could,
but it would take me forever.

It's one of the ones
I'm just going to -

Maybe another time, thanks.

I don't think -

I've been here two months now

and we've never met.

Who knows when we'd meet again?

When Rosmunda escapes again.

Hello? Ah, it's you.

Finally.

Yes, almost everything.

There's not much.
Just the books.

A lot of them are yours.
I was sorting them.

Yes, I heard about it yesterday.

They always do that when
these big ceremonies take place,

to be on the safe side.
They'll let him out in a few days.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'll call you back later.

Talk to you later.

Wondering what they're for?

Watch carefully.
One, two, three...

And backwards.
Three, two, one...

Simple, right?
Give me your hand.

It's easy.
Follow the numbers.

Start on your left.

- But what is all this?
- You'll see.

- What are we doing?
- The rumba!

You can't be serious.

My oldest girl is a great dancer,

but at my age...

I have a run in my stocking,
a brand-new pair.

Very good.

You try.

It's easy. Left foot.

Beautiful lovestruck young girls
buying your oranges

They have the enchanting taste...

- You go dancing a lot?
- Never!

- Then why learn the rumba?
- No reason.

Hail, immortal fatherland

Your sons have been born anew

Full of faith in the ideal...

You can't really dance to that one.

I'll be going.

I left something on the stove.

It was a pleasure.

My name's Gabriele.

That's right!
We never introduced ourselves.

Pleased to meet you.
Antonietta Tiberi.

That's a pretty name.

This is Italian National Radio,

with stations in Rome, Naples, Bari,

Milan, Turin, Genoa,
Trieste, Florence, and Bolzano.

All our stations,

together with radio stations
of the German Reich,

and our new station
in Addis Ababa,

are bringing you live coverage

of the military parade
in honor of the Führer.

I caught her.

To the joy of labor

To peace and glory

And to the shame of those

Who would deny the Fatherland

0 Youth!

Springtime of beauty

Through the hardships of life

Your song resounds!

We now go to Via dei Trionfi.

The slopes of the Palatine
and the Celio,

divided by one of the most illustrious
avenues in Mussolini's Rome,

filled up well in advance.

Hundreds of thousands
of Italians and foreigners

have come from all over Italy
and Europe

to witness
this historic celebration

and have descended on a Home

ready to welcome them
in her timeless austerity.

A joyful enthusiasm
marks the waiting,

and everywhere
an orderly rapidity

is powerful proof of the efficiency
of every sector of public life.

Nowhere is the atmosphere
more joyful than in the barracks.

The troops called today
to a consecration,

just as they were called yesterday
to resounding victory,

await, in their finest uniforms,
a signal from the huge parade.

The paths to be followed
by the enormous crowd

summoned to attend
have been laid out in advance.

The streets have the classic appearance
of those memorable events

when, flooded
with a jubilant population,

they seem like rivers

overflowing
with resplendent human destiny.

Strong and happy men,

soldiers of Italy

and loyal native foot soldiers
from overseas colonies,

hurry tirelessly and anxiously

so that the hour of veneration

will find them ever prouder
in their military glory.

This people, in mighty ranks,

armed in spirit

and ready to be so in deed,

stands ready to follow
its brilliant leader.

This people animated
by a virile desire for peace

now offers the world
a superb display

of serene determination.

He called her right back.

What do I care anyway?

Quiet, you.
You wasted my whole morning.

I should be used to it.
Ever since I was a kid,

I've been isolated or alone -
essentially the same thing.

Of course you matter to me,

but it's just all so absurd.

According to them we should
be ashamed of ourselves.

Earlier I was about to do
- what's the phrase? -

“something foolish.”

A neighbor across the way
happened by just in time.

No, don't worry.

“Life, however it may seem,
is always worth living.”

lsn't that the line?
And a mynah bird always comes along

to make sure
you don't forget it.

Today's a very particular day
for me, you know.

It's like a dream
where you want to scream

but nothing comes out.

I want to talk and talk!
You noticed, right?

I want to go out
and accost the first stranger

and tell him everything
about myself,

frighten him, shock him,

even hit him and hurt him -

anything but be cooped up alone
in this apartment I hate.

Aren't you going to say anything?
Hello?

Marco?
Say something, damn it!

Anything!
Talk about the weather, or sports,

or a book you're reading.

I'm sorry.

Yes, I know how you feel too.

No, we can't see each other.

It would only make things worse.

Listen, when you lose heart,
you have to pick yourself up again,

and right away,
or there's no hope.

You're finished. Understand?

Why don't we have a good laugh?

You can always cry alone,

but you need
someone else to laugh with.

Remember that guy in Ostia
with the watermelon?

Laugh, Marco, please!

What a sad friend I've chosen.

You know what will be
hardest to bear?

Not having you near.

Take care of yourself.

Let me know
how your health is doing.

I'll call you
as soon as it happens.

Think of me when you can.

It makes one think
of Goethe's travels in Italy

and the universal dimension
his spirit took on as a result.

If the encounter of Germanic Romanticism
with the classicism of Rome

lent such richness to Germany's
great muse over a century ago,

what may come
of this journey by Hitler,

who embodies the new Germany?

From every street
and every piazza,

the crowds have surged
toward the Via dei Fori Imperiali.

The outskirts of Rome lie deserted,

leaving only banners
hanging from the windows...

Ah... it's you.

You don't seem thrilled
to see me again.

I just get a bit scared
when the doorbell rings.

If you ask who's there,
they always say, “Friends...”

even if you've never met them.

Or only met them once.

You forgot to take this.

I didn't forget.

I just didn't want to impose.

Anyway, there's no point.

No, thank you.

Please.
You'd be doing me a favor.

It even has pictures.

You're so kind that...

I feel a bit confused.

Airplanes!

When the planes fly over -

The famous mystique
of the aviator.

No, it's not that.

I have to say:
This will take me a while.

I don't have much time to read.

With all the housework...

Thank you again.

Listen...

would you offer me
a cup of coffee?

Coffee?

Of course.

How rude of me.

Please sit down.

But don't look at the mess.

As they say, “Tidiness is the virtue
of a mediocre mind.”

Then I'm a genius.

I'm sorry. I thought you had some
already made. Don't bother.

No bother, but sit in there.
The kitchen's no place for a man.

I'm used to it.
I'm a bachelor.

Ah... a bachelor.

In that case
you pay the bachelor tax.

That's right.

You'd think loneliness
was some kind of luxury.

Allow me.
I've always enjoyed doing that.

My grandfather let us do this
if we were good.

Every grandchild
gave it three turns...

until the coffee was ground.

He chased me off once
because I turned it four times.

Excuse me a moment.

I'll get the coffeepot ready.

The great moment has come,

as the Italian and German flags
fly together

amid fierce acclamations,

and His Majesty
Victor Emanuel III arrives,

preceded by the two leaders,

standing side-by-side
in the black sedan.

At long last, the crowd can glimpse
II Duce at close quarters

as the car makes its way
though the masses

and hail him
with fervent enthusiasm.

While the national anthems
mingle in the air,

performed by the Fascist
and Nazi orchestras,

the two leaders, along with His Majesty,
climb the stairs to the podium,

where they will take part
in this rite

of great political
and human significance.

The king, the Führer, and II Duce

take their places on the royal dais,

where Her Majesty the Queen Empress
is already seated,

to watch the parade.

And it seems very significant

that the rows of troops
stand at attention

and present arms in this setting.

It's like a declaration
of the continuity of Italy's destiny

throughout the centuries.

What do you do?
Are you an office worker?

I'm a radio announcer.

A radio announcer!

But I'm on leave at the moment.

Certain matters
have to be cleared up.

That curl across your forehead
looks nice on you.

It's always falling down.

My husband works
in the Ministry of Italian Africa.

He's - how should I put it?
-

in charge of visitor services.

But your work must be
very exciting too.

Yes, it is.

We don't have a radio yet -

Who could that be?
- Friends.

Isn't that what everybody says?

- Who is it?
- It's me.

You must still have
the key to the roof.

You didn't give it back
yesterday.

I have to bring in the wash.
Is something wrong?

I wasn't expecting you,

and when you're alone
and the doorbell rings -

Exactly what I meant to tell you.

As we say in Rome,

better alone
than in bad company.

I don't know that man in there,

but it seems to me

he's not made of the right stuff.

You mean the gentleman
from across the way?

When Rosmunda got out,
he very kindly -

I don't want to be involved.
I don't want to know.

But he's a queer fish,
an eccentric old codger,

a bad sort.

I won't mince words:

I don't like him,
and he doesn't like me!

You'll have to forgive me...

but that was the concierge.

She somehow knew you were here.

Maybe she saw you come up.
I didn't tell her.

Not that I think there's
anything wrong with it, but...

she's such an old gossip...

that maybe it's better if -

- You want me leave.
- I don't want' you to.

You're so kind.

I'm sorry, but...

it would be better.

We always end up conforming
to what others think,

even when they're wrong.

What about you?

You stopped grinding the coffee
when I went to the door

so no one would know
you were here.

No.

Wait.

I'd like that coffee too.
Come on.

I don't want to cause
any trouble for you.

As you said, it would be -

Forget what I said.

I don't know about these things.

You're a complete stranger,
and no one else is home.

Maybe it's not right after all.
Who knows?

One thing's for sure:

You must be bored to tears
with all my chatter.

You might have done better
going to a café.

It keeps coming down.

The counterweight's not heavy enough.
It needs adjusting.

So you're an electrician too,
besides -

what do you call it?
- a radio announcer.

So basically you talk...

and all Italy listens.

That's right.

What if you suddenly
start laughing?

Oh, no! Laugh on the air
and you pay a fine.

- Have you been fined?
- Have I ever!

Ah, here's Rosmunda.

These great public events
are intended to show our guest

the magnificence of Fascist Italy.

Today he will see
how the new generations

are educated
under the symbol of the fasces.

In answer to the splendor
of the military banners,

flags raised over every residence
flutter in unison,

and the city cloaked
in Italy's colors...

So that's
your colleague speaking?

Guido Notari? Yes.

One of the best.
He never laughs on the air.

That's just the alarm clock.

I set it to go off every hour
to help manage my time.

Next time it rings,
l'll know it's noon.

Wouldn't it be easier
just to look at a clock?

What if I forget?

Are you crazy?

You mustn't see this mess!

Where are you going?

I loved riding a scooter
as a kid!

He must have a screw loose.
It's missing a wheel.

The coffee should be ready.
Sit down over there.

I don't want to be a bother.

No bother...
as long as you stay put.

The Sassari Division
appears in serried ranks

with the flags of the 151st
and 152nd regiments,

each decorated with
two gold medals for military valor.

Battalions of frontier guards
are also lined up,

the 60th and the 73rd battalions
of Black Shirts.

A battalion of gunners
appears in all its glory.

The division of two infantry regiments
was founded in 1884

and fought valiantly together

in battle after battle:

Saati, Dogali, Adua,

Bengasi, Monte Grappa, Piave.

The might of an army
of 8,000,000

is here represented
by 30,000 men, 400 tanks,

400 guns...

How odd, looking into your own
apartment from your neighbor's.

What did you say?

Nothing.

Now our troops from overseas
file past on camels.

Italian banners brought to Rome
from the African territories

pay homage from our colonies

to the great nation of Germany,
Italy's new sister.

What about Rabagliati?
You know him personally?

I imagine him to be

a tall, good-looking man
who's always happy.

You mean like me?

You don't seem that happy to me.

Depends on the day.

I like how he sings.

He puts such feeling into it.

“Fascist women, you must be
the keepers of the hearth.”

“The man who is not
a husband, father, and soldier

is not a man.”

“ll Duce at the Fiat factory
with Senator Giovanni Agnelli.”

"If you love Mussolini,
go ahead and tell us."

Though I'm your wedded husband,
I never could be jealous.”

A tune from Abruzzo.”

“lt's the Alpine Corps
that makes the Alps,

not the Alps that make
the Alpine Corps.”

You like my album?

Ah, it's yours?
I thought it was one of your kids'.

No, it's mine. You like it?

Sure.
This is a beautiful horse.

That's Ned.

He has three:
Ned, Aprile, and Fru Fru.

How many sugars?

Three. No, two.

They say he rides a horse
to exhaustion every morning

and a woman every night.

Poor horses.

And poor women!

They say
lots of things about him.

Good coffee!

You were right
to turn down my coffee earlier.

You know...

I crossed paths with him once,
four years ago...

face to face.
- Really? Where?

Villa Borghese.

He was on horseback.

I stopped, and he glanced my way
as he galloped by.

It was like a fire
flared up inside me.

Mind you,
my arms were full of groceries.

My legs turned to jelly...

everything started
spinning around me,

and I fell to the ground in a faint.

From one glance
as he galloped by?

Some passers-by helped me up,

and I managed
to get on the streetcar.

That same day I learned
I was expecting little Littorio.

“Genius is incompatible with the
physiology and psyche of the female

and is always strictly masculine.”

You agree?

Of course I agree.

Why?

Aren't the history books
always full of men?

Sure. Maybe too full.

There's no room for anyone else.

Least of all women.

You know,
you're a tough one to figure out.

My mother,
for example, wasn't male,

but she was a genius.

She wrote. She painted.

She worked as a bookkeeper
and supported the family,

not my father.

She made all the decisions.

The only decision
my father ever made

was to walk out on us.

She was a great woman,

but she couldn't hold on
to her husband.

Or maybe she just didn't want to.

My mother
was completely different.

When Dad
would come home at night -

we were living in Naples then -

That must be her again.

Please tell her that if anyone's
looking for me, I'm here.

And try to relax.
- Why? Do I look nervous?

I brought back the key.

I saw you have washing out too.

It's dry now.
- Thanks. l'll go get it.

Is he still in there?

Yes, because...

he's fixing the kitchen light.

That guy?

I wouldn't let him touch
my garbage pail!

Would you mind telling me
what you have against him?

I'm telling you for your sake:

hanging around with certain people
can get you in a lot of trouble.

I didn't want to tell you before,
but that tenant from the sixth floor

is a no-good naysayer.

An antifascist!

To put it plainly...

he's a son of a bitch!

No? Why do you think
they kicked him off the radio?

Know what they told him?

“You're spitting
in the plate you eat from.

So give us our plate back!”

But he's such a decent man.

He can't be an antifascist.

Decency has nothing to do with it.

I know a thief who plied
his trade in this very building.

Now he's an officer in the army.

So what if a man's a scoundrel?

What matters is whether
he's faithful to the Party.

That's the important thing, right?

Now the grenadiers of Sardinia
and Savoy file past.

The commander general,
Benito Mussolini,

explains the great merits
of the grenadiers

to the leader of the Third Reich.

The Fuhrer appears moved
by this pageant

in which
all of Rome's history is felt.

I have to go -

Where'd he go?
- In here.

- What are you doing?
- Fixing the light.

If she comes back to check
and it hasn't been fixed -

So you were eavesdropping.

Only at first.
Then you lowered your voices.

Leave that.
I have to go up on the roof.

I'm almost finished.
What did she say about me?

About you?

Nothing.

Why?
What do you think she said?

I'm generally her favorite topic -

after her late husband, that is.

In his death throes
he refused last rites

and asked to be buried
in his fascist black shirt.

He was a great man,
a true fascist.

He wasn't a naysayer

or one of those... subversives.

Like me, right?

So she did tell you.

When people say things like that,
there's usually some truth to it.

I don't think I'm an antifascist.

If anything, fascism is anti-me.

Sure, they're all against you.

Spare me.

A little more sand.

Then tell me why
you were fired from the radio.

Just for fun?

Because -

Perhaps my voice
didn't meet official requirements:

“solemn and martial in tone,
resonant with Roman pride.”

I had too little Roman pride -

maybe because I grew up in Viterbo.
- Sure.

You can twist words
any way you like.

If you don't mind
my coming right out with it...

they did the right thing.

Now I've got to -

- I got a shock!
- A shock!

- Just kidding.
- You can go to hell!

Enough is enough!
I almost had a heart attack.

And with her always listening -
God knows what she's thinking!

You'll ruin my reputation
in my own home! Get down!

- I wanted to make you laugh.
- I'm in stitches!

Look, it doesn't fall down now.
Did I do well?

Great. Send me the bill.

It's all buttons!
Did you make this too?

Yes, with my own hands.
You got something against it?

No, it's wonderful.

Besides, now that
they've invented the zipper,

all those buttons have
to be used for something.

Your lame humor isn't funny.

Well, good-bye.

Why are you going up
instead of down?

I'll go back across the roof
so the concierge doesn't see me.

Suit yourself.

You should have told me
right off what you thought.

About what?

Things... like picture albums.

- What would it have changed?
- Everything.

I wouldn't have let you in.

What are you afraid of?
You're so sure of your convictions.

You bet I am!
No, that's not mine.

But I don't feel
like discussing them with someone

who criticizes
and makes fun of everything.

You're always laughing
about serious matters.

I'm not always laughing.
I have little reason to laugh.

You're the one
who should laugh now and then.

Things are going well for you.

You have a home, a husband,
and six kids. You should laugh a bit.

And stop using lei with me.
You know it's forbidden!

You know
it's obligatory to use voi.

You do it on purpose.

It's been lei this and lei that
all morning.

Did you leave?

Just as well.

Still, he could have said good-bye.

Beautiful lovestruck young girls
buying your oranges

All right - no more lei!
It's ('u from now on!

You're finally laughing!
- I'm not laughing.

Too bad! You're much prettier
when you laugh.

Maybe I was once.

- Peace?
- Peace!

The blue sky,
in all its spring brilliance,

is pierced
by great steel-hearted eagles

in stripes
of red, white, and green,

guided by our pilots
toward the stars,

beyond the outer limits
of the world.

“Clumsy joke ends in tragedy.”

Look, you scratched me.

Serves you right.

What's the matter?

I'm fed up

with your so-called “jokes.”

I don't know
what you're thinking,

but you're making a big mistake.

Don't give me that look.
You understand perfectly well.

Antonietta...

I assure you I had no intention -

Sure.
You grabbed me by accident.

You men are all the same.

I saw it coming all morning.

Saw it coming? From me?

First The Three Musketeers,
then the coffee.

Of course, things must be
different where you work.

I can do it alone.

No, I always helped out as a kid.

All those actresses and lady singers
and female announcers.

I suppose that's why
you put in a phone.

One can only imagine the impact

that Contact with this illustrious city,

crucible of so much of human history,

will have on the mystic and meditative
spirit of the German leader.

Just go away.

Please go away.

I said please.

You have to go away.

When you put your arms
around me just now...

I was more angry with myself
than with you...

because”.

I've hardly been able
to take my eyes off you.

You have to go.

I don't know anymore.

I've never done this before.
You must believe me.

It's the first time.

Tell me, Gabriele, please.

I have to know.

There's a line in your album

that a man must be a husband, a father,

and a soldier.

I'm not a husband...

a father...

or a soldier.

What are you saying?

I wasn't kicked off the radio
because of my voice.

“A useless naysayer...

with depraved tendencies.”

That's what they said.

I don't understand.

You understand perfectly well.

And it's true.

What were you hoping for?

Kisses? Love bites?
My hands up your dress?

Is that what you've been
waiting for?

Is that what a man does
when he's alone with a woman?

All men are the same, right?

Don't touch me!
Let me go!

You want to feel it, don't you?

Because this muscle here is the one
that really counts, is that it?

Don't touch me!

Sorry, but you got me all wrong,
sweetheart.

I'm not the virile stud
you were hoping for.

I'm a faggot. A faggot!

That's what they call us.

At the local pool hall,
if they caught one of us around,

they'd pull down his pants
and ram a pool cue up his ass!

What do you know about anything?

You're just an ignorant
little housewife in heat...

but oh so very proper!

One of those who say,

"It was a moment of weakness.
What must you think of me?”"

Prepared to fornicate on the roof,
but ready to judge and condemn.

What the hell would you know?

- The concierge will hear!
- Let her! l'll call her myself!

Hey, concierge!

That way everyone
will finally know for sure

that the tenant
on the sixth floor is a queer...

a pansy...

a homosexual!

A faggot.

To describe on the radio,
to all of Italy and the world,

this pageant on Via dei Trionfi

fills us with sincere pride.

Composed of mighty battalions,

the military strength of the fascist
people, of our people's army,

parades in the Roman light
before our esteemed guest.

All the most modern vehicles
and weapons

that make up
a strong and fearsome army

roar by before the leader
of our sister nation,

who looks on,
visibly surprised and pleased.

While troops march
along the chosen streets,

the crowd calls out to II Duce
in reaffirmation

of its ecstatic tribute
of devotion and faith.

He comes second only to God.

“God gives us bread.
II Duce defends it for us.”

Such is the feeling
of the people.

The crowd surges impatiently

to hear the words
of Mussolini and Hitler,

which will be broadcast
by loudspeaker.

The 14th Fascist draft boasts
of having recruited

1,353,716 new members
to the Party...

I'm sorry.

Why don't you come in?

I'm making an omelet.

The crowd calls out
to the two leaders

to renew its exultant tribute
of trust and devotion.

The moment has arrived,

amid bugles and drums
and clamoring crowds.

A majestic silence falls.

Benito Mussolini,
founder of the empire,

extends a salute
from Fascist Italy

to the leader
of the Third Reich.

Fascist Italy

knows but one ethical law
in friendship.

This law has been,
is being, and will be obeyed

by the collaboration between
Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy.

I even got engaged
to a girl once,

a girl at the radio station,

to put up a false front.

I took her out to dinner
and to the movies,

wherever we'd be sure
to be seen together.

I pretended I was crazy about her,
and she did the same.

She was a good friend
who wanted to help.

But maybe I didn't play
my part too well.

Management called me in
one day and said...

I was no longer part of the family
at Italian National Radio.

“You're not a Party member.”
“But I am!”

“Not any more...

because people like you

can't be members of our Party,
which is a party of real men.”

So I tried to bluff...

by showing them
a medical certificate stating

I wasn't a homosexual,

that I was a normal man.

- Did they believe you?
- Are you kidding?

It only made things worse.

That was a bad move.

If you're not a homosexual,

you don't walk around
with a certificate to that effect.

That's the worst part.

You try to seem different
from what you really are.

They force you
to feel ashamed of yourself.

To hide.

But you told me.

With you I found the courage.

You're not like the others.

That's not true.

I slapped you.

True, but you're here
with me now.

How do you get by?

I mail out advertising
for a big department store.

I write customers' addresses
on the envelopes.

I took the job over from... a friend.

He was taken away
over a year ago.

He's interned in Sardinia,
at Carbonia.

Was he a...

subversive?

A subversive... like me.

I went to see him off.

I last saw him as he boarded
the boat at Civitavecchia.

I watched him
walk up the gangplank.

You have beautiful handwriting.

Would you mail one to me?

There are lots of times
when I feel humiliated too.

Treated like a nobody.

My husband doesn't talk to me.
He orders me around...

day...

and night.

We haven't laughed together
since we were engaged.

He does his laughing elsewhere now,
with other women.

You mean he's unfaithful?

You seemed so secure and happy.

“Faithful.”

To the fatherland.

You know those places...

where men go and pay for women?

They know him better there
than in his own office.

If only that was all.

Last month I found a letter
from someone named Laura...

a schoolteacher
on Via Ruggero Bonghi.

He picks a woman
with an education.

It's as if he -

lt's like telling a woman
she's ignorant and second-rate.

Oh, I don't deny it.
I didn't have much schooling.

A letter like that -

Even back when I was fond of him...

I never wrote him a letter like that...

because I don't know how.

You can treat an uneducated
woman any way you like,

because you don't respect her.

I like you, Gabriele.

I like you...

just as you are.

All those things you told me...

I don't care about them.

You're very kind.

I'm thinking of myself.

I like it when you touch me.

It's funny.

I don't feel guilty at all.

Just the opposite.

It was never like that with him.

I never thought
it could be like that.

What about you?

The way I am...

doesn't mean
I can't make love to a woman.

It's different.

It was very nice...

but it doesn't change anything.

Meeting you, getting to know you...

talking with you,
spending the whole day with you -

today of all days -

has been very important for me.

I'll look across
at your window every day...

the way I did this morning
when I went back home.

I kept watching you.

I couldn't get anything done.

And next Saturday,
when everyone goes off to the rally...

it'll be enough just to see you...

and hear your voice.

Good evening.

How was the parade?

Wonderful, huh?
I heard it all on the radio.

They're coming back.

I have to go.

Good evening, sir, ma'am.

I listened to the whole thing
on the radio.

Did you have a good time?

What's Hitler like?
- He's so handsome!

I heard it all on the radio.
I enjoyed every minute.

Was the parade nice?
- Great.

A historic day for Italy!
- I agree.

- Did you see that fat general?
- That was Goering.

- Wasn't it Hess?
- He's the crazy-looking one.

The entire top brass
of our great sister nation.

My feet hurt.

- Fulvio, did you get tired?
- No.

We were all shouting,
“Duce! Duce! Duce!”

And he was lapping it up.

But then he gestured
toward Hitler as if to say,

”Don't forget our guest,”
and everyone clapped even louder.

- I didn't see that.
- You were too far away. I saw it all.

Antonietta,
you really missed something.

Hey, am I supposed to eat
my minestrone with a fork?

What's the matter
with you tonight?

A fateful day.

Unforgettable.

And you all had the privilege

of witnessing it in person.

In 20 or 30 years' time
you can tell your children...

"I was there that day.”"

They gave me
one bread roll all day.

- What's all this?
- The pom-pom.

Mom, pass the mortadella.

A cold dinner.
Didn't do a thing all day, did you?

Wasn't it a national holiday?

And you stayed home in bed.

We have more tanks
than the rest of Europe.

Even more than America, Dad?

Sure. All they can do
is make movies.

They're still fighting
the Indians with bows and arrows.

I think the air force
is the most exciting.

- No, the navy.
- Shows what you know.

Too bad we didn't see any ships.

Right. Imagine
a battleship parading past!

- Will you cut it out?
- Hands off!

You'll have lots of pictures
for your album, Mom.

There'll be lots of pictures to clip
in tomorrow's paper.

I'm hoarse from all the singing.

You see the German band
on horseback?

They were fantastic!

I don't know how they do it.

It's the Führer's personal band.
They're with him everywhere.

Even at home.

Mom, Littorio's eating
with his left hand.

How come the Germans do
the goose step better than us?

Because it's hard!

Come on.
We're pretty impressive too.

Did you see the Alpine Corps?
- Sure did.

But the German uniforms
are much more elegant.

You gotta admit: We know
how to pick our allies, huh?

If there's another war,

we'll kick all their asses!

Antonié, a day like today
calls for a celebration,

and if we have a seventh,
we'll call him Adolf.

No, not tonight.

Just hurry up and come to bed.

We'll discuss it then.

“That first Monday of April 1625,

the town of Meung,

birthplace of the author
of the Romance of the Rose,

was in complete chaos,

as if the Huguenots aimed
to make of it a second La Rochelle.”

- I'm just about ready.
- Take your time.

- When does the boat leave?
- In three hours.

"Imagine a Don Quixote aged 18,
with a long face -”"

“...a long face with high cheekbones,
a sign of craftiness -”

"all the more painful
to young D'Artagnan...”"