Original subtitles

JANUARY 5TH, 1984

Do you mind stopping in Ognina for a minute?

-Sure. -Thanks.

They're still alive! Still alive! Check this out!

Catch anything good, Antonio?

Really good, sir.

It's all super fresh.

-Are the anchovies fresh? -They're still alive.

-How much for the crate? -Name your price.

Ten thousand lira.

What, 10,000 lira? I'll chuck them back in the sea!

How about 15?

Gimme 20,000 and eat your heart out!

-Fine, but give me some shrimp, too. -There you go.

Today I'm bighearted.

Check these shrimp out!

Fresh mackerel! Check this out!

CATANIA, MAY 1980

Straight from the sea, shall we fry them up?

Are the kids here? I wanted to surprise them.

After a year?

It's actually been ten months.

Come in.

Kids!

Look who's here, Francesca! Alessandra, it's Grandpa.

Apparently they're serious.

A four-color 24 page newspaper.

20,000 copies to start with.

-Here's the super-fresh fish! -I'll serve.

-Where'd you get it, dad? -Antonio's, in Ognina.

-He used to be good. -Used to?

Antonio is still the best! You'll see.

-For the kids? -Take out the bones.

20,000 copies is a lot. Can they afford it?

For now, yes. The investor is a coffee roaster.

Let's taste it…

Delicious!

Alessandra is so big.

-She looks like…? -Giuseppe.

-Where is he? -Working at the clinic.

Francesca looks just like you.

My darling…

There's already a newspaper in Catania.

I've waited 20 years to become editor-in-chief.

We're proud of you, Dad.

Girls, you're lucky to have a mom who's always happy.

Alessandra, what are you drawing?

-Stars. -Stars?

Then Grandpa will teach you shading. It's easy.

Sharpen the pencil, then use your thumb

to smudge it, but not now.

-Shall we make a toast? -Yes.

To Catania's two princesses…

to this soon-to-be newspaper,

and to this fresh, melt-in-your-mouth fish!

Cheers.

Come on, give me a smile!

Here.

You haven't moved a thing.

How's Rome… theater, cinema?

Your grand plans?

Rome has one insurmountable issue:

you can't find a decent coffee granita there.

I was eager to come back.

You still with her?

We said we wouldn't talk about that.

If you bring her to Catania, you can't stay here.

Lina, I can find somewhere else to stay.

No, your kids were waiting for you.

This is your home.

Good night.

Good night.

-Hi, how are you? -Fine.

I'm glad.

Good evening.

-Maddalena! -Pippo.

-How's your father? -Fine, thanks.

Good evening.

-So you're back in Catania? -For now.

Everyone knows you're launching a newspaper.

Everyone chatters and whispers, but you never answered my letter.

Pippo, how can I? Not now…

There's Fava.

I wish you all the best.

Pippo!

Look who's here! You're gambling?

My one vice, it's all I have in this fucking city…

-Good to see you. -Likewise.

I want to hear all about Rome, the theater…

A film based on your book won a Golden Bear, an Oscar is next!

I have some major stories to tell you.

-Let's get a drink. -And a smoke.

Be right back.

How are you, Pippo?

Settling back here in Catania is a bit difficult.

I feel like I don't know this city any more.

Pippo Fava's editorial: "Catania never changes.

Miserable, cheery, swindler."

You still haven't learned how to properly use adjectives.

-You picked the editorial staff? -Not yet, I'm thinking about it.

I'm counting on you, you're my pillar.

You'll become a real reporter at 50.

Pippo, let me live in peace.

We didn't chose this job to live in peace.

You always complain your newsroom is full of zombies…

It's just talk. I'm not like you.

You believe in what you do…

I've just made do, that's the truth.

Is that a no?

You're abandoning me?

I'll go get some drinks, wait here.

You'll be the Sports editor.

Write about anything you want: national, international sports…

Run wild, you can do as you please.

No, the pay is the same.

Then just say that you don't believe in the paper.

Fine, I won't insist.

My best to your wife, she's smarter and prettier than you.

Don't play the jealous Sicilian!

Bye.

Dad…

Mom finished cooking, we're at the table.

Be right there.

-Give me the 36. -Here.

He's Catania's best reporter, trust me.

The Southerly Times will kick ass with him at the helm.

-Right, sir? -We'll try, Mr. Lo Certo.

We'll do more than try!

This city appreciates good things.

They called me crazy when I started selling coffee.

"Lo Certo, coffee comes from Brazil!"

Mr. Fava, here's the pre-arranged contract for you.

I jotted down a few notes myself.

I thought you were fine with the agreed salary?

The salary is fine.

-But I wanted to add some clauses. -What clauses?

"Total authority of the newspaper's editorial line.

Exclusive proprietorship to establish the editorial staff,

to select the lead writers and associates.

The inalienable preeminence of truth."

You really want this stuff in your contract?

Yes, and the following line too:

"No interference from local or national politicians,

no interference from the publishers,

the editor-in chief has total control over what he prints".

We'll include whatever you want,

just make sure this paper is great.

I'm putting in the dough, you put in the rest.

Well…

-How about a coffee? -We have plenty of that!

Hey, Claudio.

-You went shopping? -I got a few things.

-Mom? -She went out.

I bought this, put it in the fridge.

What's the occasion? That you've come back home?

I've come back to Catania, that's all.

Have you explained that to Mom?

We sleep separately, I think she gets it.

-I don't think she gets it. -She doesn't?

And you know that.

Marriage is tricky, even when it ends.

Plus, your mom is not stupid.

I'm getting married, by the way.

Who?

Me.

-Are you serious? -No, I'm kidding…

-When? -We haven't set a date yet.

Grab that bottle and two glasses, come to my office.

So here we have…

news about a marriage I've just found out about.

It just happened.

I just signed my contract…

Congrats. That's what the bottle's for.

Here we go.

Are you happy?

Yes.

-And you? -Me what? You're getting married.

About the paper, I meant.

You signed the contract, but everyone is turning you down.

They'd all rather keep their asses glued to their comfy chairs.

Did you expect them to roll out the red carpet for you?

They've been there for 30 years.

-They'd be like fish out of water. -True.

Know what I'll do?

I'll gather up a group of youngsters,

kids your age, who still have inquisitive, bright minds…

-From Catania? -From Catania or elsewhere…

As long as they can write and want to work for my paper.

It's much better.

You still want to be a lawyer?

There are tons of lawyers in Catania.

I know.

-Pippo Fava? -Yes.

-I'm Riccardo Orioles. -Hi, Riccardo.

I won the Journalists' Association scholarship…

Orioles… you hail from the Spanish invaders!

Invaders come and go.

If you have a scholarship, why not work for a major paper?

-Because I've read your books. -Really?

-And I want to work with you. -Which books?

Firstly, "Michele's Passion".

Riccardo, I remember your articles well.

They're particular.

They have a strange tone for this city.

-"Strange" how? -Articles written by a free man.

-That's a compliment. -Sure, thanks.

Write about what you see and have fun doing it,

this should be like a game, which you carry out with seriousness.

Miki, this title sucks, it's longer than the article.

-Didn't you notice? -I did have a few doubts…

but wasn't sure.

-Ask them next time. -We told him!

-I did ask, they didn't help. -Yes, we did.

Hi, I'm Giusi.

I'm here for an interview.

-Giusi, come in. -Those are my photos.

Guys, this is our photographer.

As of tomorrow, you'll write and she'll take pictures.

-When do I start? -Now.

This is Antonio, he's in The Rolling Stones.

Other than that, in my free time, I deal with the city council.

Nice stuff…

-Miki. -Dropout chemist.

I never even took one Chemistry exam.

Photography is one of my greatest passions…

You can hold her camera bag. I'm Elena, I deal with culture.

Apart from the editor-in-chief, we're all hot air and soccer.

These photos are amazing.

-They're wonderful. -You didn't even look at them!

What are you talking about?

Hi.

You can put your things here. Let me know if you need anything.

Thanks.

-Nice to meet you, I'm Giusi. -Saro.

-Do you smoke? -No.

All the better.

Excuse me…

-Can you tell me the victims' names? -I'm trying to work.

Bullet caliber?

Please leave, I'm working.

I'm working, too.

-Any questions? -Ask about rigged contracts.

I have a few, Mayor.

Weren't recent city contracts awarded in a rather abnormal way?

Any other questions?

DARKROOM

What should I write? I don't have shit to write.

-What an odd press conference. -Questions were dodged.

Antonio, that's the article there.

A reporter asks the mayor a question, and he doesn't answer.

-Don't ask, don't tell… -Don't speak!

We'll put the piece you wrote right up here.

And the editorial will go down here on the left,

and we'll finish it off with the shoulder on the right.

We still have to tweak a few things, but it's looking good.

MAYOR: "DON'T ASK, DON'T TELL, DON'T SPEAK"

-Good morning. -Good morning.

I heard you're looking for staff.

Attorney Claudio Fava…

Aesthetically speaking, it was questionable, too.

-Where shall I sit? -Go find an empty desk.

Nice view.

-Good morning. -Hello.

-Hi, Claudio Fava. -Fava?

Miki Gambino.

-Is this free? -Yes.

How many?

At least 100 shots.

Are you new? Never seen you before.

Miki Gambino, Southerly Times.

-The new newspaper? -Yes, we started two weeks ago.

You're real busybodies.

Indeed…

They sure messed him up.

How gruesome.

100 shots, 9mm Parabellum.

Beirut.

No dead bodies, what the hell happened?

It's armored.

Not even judges have armored cars.

-What'd he say? -The usual.

Score-settling between unknown parties.

Claudio… cover me.

Write down this name: Benedetto Santapaola.

The owner of the armored car.

Miki, go to the precinct and ask if they know him.

Sure.

Santapaola…

Why'd you send him?

He's resourceful.

Here's the statement.

You can go.

-I won't give you a name, Gambetti. -Gambino.

I know who he is.

Benedetto Santapaola. Am I right?

A watermelon vendor.

-What does that say? -He has no record.

There were 100 cases on the ground, sir.

-What do you know? -I counted them.

I've known your editor-in-chief for ages.

Giuseppe Fava, a talented man.

And this paper of yours…

the Southerly Times,

full of news, titles,

evocative hypotheses…

You keep writing and let us do our job. Anything else?

-A photo? -We have none.

Santapaola is a free citizen,

and we don't keep free citizens on file.

Very well, good night.

-Good evening. -Good evening.

Can I steal a cigarette?

-All set? -All set.

Before leaving, go to Forensics at number 43.

Ask for Dr. Marcuzzi, there's an envelope for Gambino.

An envelope?

You think you're the only ones who are pissed off?

Thanks.

This man is Benedetto Santapaola, "Nitto" for short.

A watermelon vendor with an armored car which saved his life

when he and his bodyguards were able to flee unhurt.

-Has he previous convictions? -Petty theft, at age 16.

Gun license authorized by the precinct,

no charges pressed, no questioning, nothing.

But we know who his rival is,

Alfio Ferlito: no record until two months ago.

He was caught in Milan with a truckload of drugs.

This morning, Santapaola was shot at with assault weapons,

Kalashnikovs, sub-machine-guns, serious stuff!

We know there's a war in Catania, that's not a scoop.

We need to figure out who Nitto Santapaola is.

-But that's not all. -Miki will give you the scoop.

The police chief claims Santapaola is a free citizen

and they don't investigate free citizens.

Even if he was shot at with assault weapons…

Santapaola remains unprosecutable.

Bravo, Miki.

That's the scoop.

That nobody is looking for Santapaola.

But since we all now seem to be realizing

that the judges, cops…

aside from those two angels who gave us this…

our esteemed fellow reporters from other papers,

are all concerned with not ruffling Mr. Nitto Santapaola's feathers.

I'd say let's flip the script

and use this photo here with a four-column headline.

-In local news? -No, front page!

He's such a handsome man, too!

With bright eyes. Right, Giusi?

Could he be any more photogenic?

Don't you agree?

Thank you.

Here it is!

Amazing!

An amazing newspaper, here!

I'm dying to read it!

IS HE CATANIA'S NEW MAFIA BOSS?

Giusi, the photo's underexposed.

Nonsense, it's perfect.

Thank you.

Lemon sorbet.

-Thanks. -I got mulberry.

Delicious.

Remember I taught you and Claudio to swim over there?

You left us in the open sea and said: "Now swim".

Don't start, you were right by the shore!

Dad, I had no idea, I couldn't see you.

I was right in front of you like I am now.

What nonsense!

Let me try mulberry.

Can you eat that?

So good.

You don't seem very happy to be back.

Why do you say that?

Dunno…

Were you expecting things to be like they were before?

Life goes on.

Claudio's getting married…

and you don't need me to tell you…

Dad, Mom got used to you being gone.

Mom is an amazing woman.

I came back because I wanted to understand.

What?

Important things in my life that I could only understand in Catania.

Good evening.

What's going on?

-Good evening, sir. -Good evening.

We were waiting for you.

-Do you know Mr. Graci? -I haven't had the pleasure.

-Mr. Fava, nice to meet you. -Likewise.

I invested a lot of money in this newspaper,

even if I'm not considered an official owner.

I wasn't aware of that, I appreciate it.

Mr. Graci is very reserved, he doesn't like to show off.

Indeed, that's what real benefactors are like.

But you're right, someone should have informed you.

To what do I owe this pleasure?

I want to be as sincere as possible.

I don't like what I'm reading for one simple reason:

because your paper isn't telling the truth.

-In regards to? -In regards to the mafia.

Everyone knows Eastern Sicily is immune from it.

You're presenting a Catania that doesn't really exist:

a violent, corrupt, hopeless city;

a frightening city, especially for those who read your paper.

If I'm not mistaken, you're saying…

that in the middle of Sicily there's a borderline, a frontier.

On this side are the good guys - that would be us, obviously -

and on the other side are the mafia butchers.

So, Palermo is the kingdom of a doomed Sicily

and Catania the sort of capital of a docile Sicily.

Did I get it right?

That's rather extraordinary!

You're saying that the mafia,

which is capable of devastating major cities all over the world,

from Marseilles to New York,

but upon reaching the banks of the Simeto River,

maybe due to its supposed miraculous waters,

it just stops.

That is a truly fascinating concept.

I love learning new things,

if you don't mind, for tomorrow's headline we'll write:

"Simeto River stops the mafia".

-It's wonderful! -You're rather ironic.

Like all intelligent men are.

But I think your intelligence can help you understand

that those who love this city must protect it.

Of course.

I'm sure you also want Catania and Sicily to stand proud again.

Yes.

Good luck with your work, Mr. Fava.

-Same to you. -Thanks.

Catania is not Palermo.

Goodbye, sir.

Saro, give your dad my best.

-You know him? -Not really.

Antonio…

Nice one!

Go, Antonio!

Take off those shirts, they're awful.

-I've got a surprise for you. -Let's see.

New jerseys?

-Money is flowing! -We look like gas attendants.

-Thanks, sir. -No worries.

Keep mine in the bag, I'll be ref today.

You won't sweat it up anyway.

You don't know how to play, do you?

This calls for a photo.

Get ready!

Michele, take the pic!

Pass the ball!

Kick!

Go, go!

Goal!

Gaetano, I told you all I needed was a handful of kids.

CATANIA'S NEWSPAPER

You're not used to losing!

It's only thanks to these kids, you're useless as a striker.

Young people run.

They sure do.

-They're running too much. -Too much?

You know, these articles you publish…

attacking a watermelon vendor.

-This isn't about the game? -No, it's not.

For the past month your paper's been talking about Santapaola.

-He's a mafioso. -Nonsense, Pippo!

He's innocent until proven guilty.

He was shot at for 15 minutes, give me a break!

Did anyone die?

Not this time. In Catania, hundreds of people die yearly.

Hogtied, throats slit like lambs, with cement shoes…

Catania's a complex city.

Complex? Hundreds killed, and no one's arrested.

Score-settling, outlaws…

Gaetano, they're not outlaws, they're mafioso. We both know.

I'm not saying don't write about it, your paper is great,

but do it less aggressively.

You're just pissed off you conceded eight goals today!

Pippo.

Are you leaving?

Lina, it's not right for me to stay here.

What do you need that you don't have?

I don't even expect you to sleep in my room.

Isn't that enough?

This marriage has been over for ages, we both know.

-Going back to her? -I'm not going back to anyone.

You're a liar.

-Lina… -Listen.

What do you tell the kids in the newsroom?

To always tell the truth, always?

You're strict about the lies of others, but never your own.

Pippo, you're over 50!

Before the Lord takes me and your dad, you need to settle down.

You'll live to be 100, I'm fine. Good morning, Dad.

-Hi, Pippo. -How are you?

-Did you and your wife argue again? -Dad, please…

-I'll just stay a few days. -This is your home.

All right… will you make eggplant parmigiana tonight?

Tonight? It'll give you indigestion!

-I'll make a nice soup. -Alright.

-With potatoes? -Yes. I'll leave it on the stove for you.

Okay.

I don't give a shit about the refinery.

They came, put a piece of paper in front of me,

and told me to sign it.

"Why should I sign it?"

"Otherwise we bulldoze your home."

You're the only one left.

I will not budge from here.

I built this house with my own hands.

You're not afraid of getting sick? The others all left.

Marina di Melilli is done for.

I don't give a shit about the others, I'm old.

I was born here and want to die here, God willing.

-The smell doesn't bother you? -No.

The sea is all polluted, look.

Fish live in the water, not me.

-It's like a desert. -It's not a desert, it's a beach.

-Sir, I'm done taking photos. -Coming, Giusi.

So, you consider this a nice place?

Sure, don't you?

-Hi, Carmelo. -Hello, sir.

-No parking tickets! -None.

-Dad… -Hi, Claudio.

Can I talk to you?

About Mom?

Do me a huge favor, don't worry about us.

I worry about her.

You come and go as you please… will you be coming back?

In a few days, she'll be glad I left the house.

Sir, have you seen this?

-The flying squad chief. -The one who didn't know Santapaola.

See the others?

"His Excellency Catania's prefect Francesco Abbatelli…

and the car dealership owner, Mrs. Carmela…"

Nitto Santapaola's wife.

So in this lovely, illuminating image here,

we have… Claudio!

Catania's prefect, the flying squad chief, and a mafioso's wife!

This is tomorrow's front page.

This here…

Hold on.

THE PREFECT AND MAFIOSO'S WIFE

Alright.

Shit!

What the fuck was that?

-Rosario! -Guys…

-Rosario, wait! -Antonio!

What's that?

Shit…

Careful.

Elena!

It's okay.

See if anyone walks out of the front door.

You local news reporters need to chill out.

By shooting off your mouths you pissed people off.

What the fuck?

You can write without always being so confrontational.

Are you insane? So it's our fault?

Did I say that? I didn't say that!

Get out!

Get lost!

Miki… fuck!

Did anyone get hurt?

Luckily not.

Did you call the police?

They're on their way.

-How did it happened? -I don't know.

-We were working… -They could've killed us.

A cherry bomb.

We shouldn't touch anything.

-Morning, Dad. -Morning.

Sit down, I'll get it, don't worry.

-Who is it? -Lina.

-Why are you here? -Claudio told me about the bomb.

Please, I spent the night at the precinct for a firecracker.

-It was a silly prank… -Don't downplay.

-It was a bomb. -Lina, don't worry.

-Now what? -Everything will be fine.

We're printing news, not waging war.

I know you, that paper is a challenge for you.

-Pippo, I'm worried. -Are you worried about me?

About Claudio.

-Claudio is a man. -Yes, but he's your son.

A shootout on Palermo's ring road…

the car transporting mafia boss Alfio Ferlito from Enna's prison

to Trapani's prison.

In order to kill Ferlito, others were shot:

Three police officers, the driver…

See those bullet holes? They used a Kalashnikov again.

This is huge, they killed four policemen to get to Ferlito.

Exactly. This is Ferlito, Santapaola's number one enemy.

He tried to kill him, so he retaliated.

This can only mean one thing: Santapaola's now Catania's king.

No, Ferlito was killed in Palermo.

If the Palermo gang allows Santapaola to kill four cops,

that means Santapaola and the Palermo gang are united.

Cettina, I want four pages tomorrow.

Riccardo, 100 lines about Catania's mafia gaining a foothold in Palermo.

Antonio and Rosario, make a map of the new heroin trafficking route.

Miki and Claudio,

piece together everything about Ferlito and Santapaola,

wars, alliances, killings… everything.

Guys, these people want to be in charge.

Stop!

Stop the presses!

-We already printed 4,000 copies. -Stop them!

Stop!

Go unload the trays.

We'll do them over, Saro will explain how.

Good morning.

-What's wrong? Am I late? -No, read it.

Last night, Lo Certo altered the front page.

INMATE AND GUARDS KILLED IN PALERMO

He removed the words "mafia" and "Kalashnikov"…

The murder of five men sounds like a car accident now!

What should we do?

We should… republish the article from yesterday.

As it was, without the deleted parts.

Okay.

-See you at the newsroom. -See you.

I have an ethical concept regarding journalism.

In fact, I believe

that in a free and democratic society,

which Italy supposedly is,

journalism should represent an essential power of society.

Journalism based on truth

MAFIA WAR IN PALERMO'S KILLINGS

curbs corruption

THE PAPER'S SOUL

It obstructs violence, crime,

it expedites essential public works,

it demands that social services be functional,

it keeps law enforcement on the lookout,

it urges a constant focus on justice,

it imposes good governance on politicians.

We can only hope…

If a paper isn't capable of this,

be it through cowardice

or deliberately,

its conscience is marred by all of the pain it could've avoided,

all of the suffering, the injustice,

the corruption, the violence

that it could have fought against.

Period.

Its own failure.

What is it?

I get you,

you're trying to get fired.

Otherwise I don't understand the point of this barb.

Want to go back to Rome? Then go.

Claudio, they won't react, they don't have the balls.

Why are you so worried?

You're 24 and act like my grandpa!

No, you act like a child!

I want to know what you're really worried about.

I don't want you to leave again.

Good morning. Everything good?

-What is it, Carmelo? -This came for you.

No, you should read it right away.

"Notice is hereby given that

your employment agreement has been terminated as of now."

-All right… -I'm sorry.

I was told not to let you go upstairs.

Really?

I'm sorry, but I…

I'm sorry that they've put you in this position.

Bye.

Guys, if they fire the boss, then I'm going, too.

No, we'll all stay and occupy the newsroom!

No newspaper without Fava!

I'm not occupying, this isn't a squat.

Plus, I need my salary, I'm not a daddy's boy.

They axed our boss, forget the salary!

Okay, they fired Fava.

It's professionally and personally sad, but it's the publisher's right.

He decides who'll head the paper, not you, Ms. Brancati.

Saro, watch your tone, you're offending Elena and us all.

They fired him because we revealed who their friends are.

What friends? Who? What?

You need us to tell you? Read yesterday's paper.

You talk and talk, are we reporting news or just chitchatting?

Saro, tell me something, why the hell are you here?

You've been busting our balls since day one.

We're here thanks to Pippo Fava.

-I work here. -And what do we do?

Miki, stop.

-Calm down, guys. -Calm, my ass!

-Screaming is useless, let's vote. -We'll decide by voting.

Who wants to keep printing without going on strike?

-Well? -Well said!

Decision made. Let the "daddy's boys" occupy the place.

Occupy!

Occupy!

Barricade the doors!

You think someone will come see us tomorrow?

Like who?

Dunno, Fava's former co-workers,

his reporter friends?

We've been here for four days and haven't seen a soul.

This city swallows everything.

Us, Fava, his paper…

-What's wrong? -Nothing.

Want to go back and be a chemist?

I won't budge from here.

And you?

No way!

The union said the occupation must stop

because the publisher has the right to fire you.

I'll sue him, then we'll see.

-Did Gaetano come by? -Yes, with a co-worker.

-What'd he say? -That the union is right.

That we're risking our jobs, and you agree with him.

-He's right. -Really?

Want a granita?

Can I come get my things from the newsroom?

No, Carmelo was told to call the cops if you come.

They haven't called them, but are dying to.

I feel so bad for Carmelo…

Tell me what you need, I'll get it.

You're too stressed out, come on.

Go to the beach, get some sun.

Go to the beach? Come on…

They want to fire everyone who was involved in the sit-in,

make Saro editor-in-chief, have me and Miki clip articles.

And I should go the beach?

Or have a granita?

I started writing for the theater again.

I'm writing a new piece: "Ultimate Violence".

It's set up like a hearing, it about these things,

the many faces of lies and of violence.

-I'd like you to read it. -Are you listening to me?

-I am. -Do you grasp the situation?

Go to the newsroom and tell everyone to come here.

-I want to see them. -They're occupying, they can't leave.

Claudio, the protest has to end eventually.

I have something to tell you.

-See you later. -Okay.

Here's your granita.

Here we go.

First off, thanks for coming.

As you know, I can't even come to the newsroom to get my things,

but I wanted to properly say goodbye.

And I wanted to tell you something.

I've made up my mind.

-Going back to Rome? -No, Giusi, I'm staying.

And creating a new newspaper.

-Who'll be the publisher? -No one.

No master, we'll create a co-op and do it ourselves.

It'll be a monthly publication.

It'll be called "The Sicilians", like it?

One hundred and sixty pages in color.

A newspaper-magazine, rich as a painting,

like Picasso's Guernica.

To talk about our land.

-And the mafia. -No, life, Antonio.

Of course we'll talk about the mafia,

since we're from this beautiful but damned island,

but I want it to be about life.

We should be able to zero in on dreams,

excitement…

rebellion…

suffering and heroism.

Elena, we have plenty of space to talk about literature,

cinema, theater, photography.

If culture has a value, as I'm sure it does,

if the sense of freedom corresponds to the sense of human dignity,

then we have to fight.

I don't see the point of being alive

if you don't have the courage to fight.

Right.

I was thinking we'd do a report on power every month.

If necessary, we'll mention the names

of all those people whose names never get mentioned.

The readers will save our magazine as if it were a book.

Some people might be afraid of The Sicilians,

and that will make us proud.

Who wants to partake in this adventure?

-Me! -Me!

-Me. -All of us, of course.

Not me.

Sorry, I understand your enthusiasm…

But I find you to be too rhetorical,

and I won't make the same mistake twice.

I accept your criticism.

-Good luck, sir. -Same to you, really.

From the bottom of my heart.

Bye, Saro.

I was a bit uncertain,

but if Saro is leaving, that means it's an amazing idea.

-Bye, Saro. -I could never stand him.

Here we are.

It's a mess.

Let's get this stuff out of here.

It's rumpled.

Oh yeah!

It was 9:00 p.m. when, at this intersection,

a group of four or five people,

armed with guns and Kalashnikovs that could riddle sheet metal,

leapt out of two cars, an Alfetta and a BMW,

and a high-powered motorcycle,

killing Carlo Alberto Dalla Chiesa and his wife who was driving.

They also shot his driver who followed behind in his official car,

officer Russo.

Kalashnikovs, like when they killed Ferlito and the cops.

Nothing can stop them now.

To kill Dalla Chiesa, they must have bigwig friends.

Giusi and Rosario are in Palermo?

Since yesterday, they left when they heard the news.

Riccardo, you go, too.

Go see what people on the streets are saying,

what the opposition party and activists are saying…

You know them, they'll talk to you.

Miki and Claudio,

stay here and write about how Catania faces this attack.

We have to get this magazine to the newsstand ASAP.

Guys…

Remember what Dalla Chiesa said

less than a month ago in the papers?

I re-read the article yesterday, it's incredible.

Listen.

"Nowadays, the mafia has power in Catania, too.

Actually, from Catania, it's making its way to Palermo.

With the consent of Palermo's mafia,

Catania's four biggest construction companies

now work in Palermo."

It's terrifying.

For the cover?

"Mafia: l am the State."

I think we should write: "Santapaola and his Kalashnikov."

-Not again. -No, let's write:

"Dalla Chiesa's murder", and quote this article.

No.

This time on the cover

we'll put Catania's real bosses.

We know them.

Let's tell who they are!

The first is…

Carmelo Costanzo,

stocky and haughty, he builds everything,

low-income housing, buildings, resorts,

highways, bridges, dams.

Francesco Finocchiaro only builds buildings,

but his one rule.

They say this skill in winning every public bid in Catania

comes with a price,

a 10 % cut that must be amicably split between all the parties.

Mario Rendo also builds just about anything,

But he likes to flaunt his immense power.

his holding company's headquarters

is made up of steel and glass skyscrapers

surrounded by an enormous garden

that can only be accessed

through an entrance with armed guards.

It's like a border checkpoint.

While Gaetano Graci's empire has no headquarters,

the heart and brains behind everything

is the Agricola Etnea Bank,

Sicily's third largest bank which he owns.

Of all of these Knights of Labor, he's the most reserved.

He rarely appears in public,

but there are tales of his generosity.

He often organizes legendary hunting outings

for his friends on one of his Sicilian estates.

THE SICILIANS

-This one. -Hold on.

It's crooked.

Sir, we sold the magazine to every news stand in Sicily.

Three thousand copies in two hours, we're printing another run.

Are you serious?

Our distributor's getting requests from all over Sicily.

-How many more? -Three thousand.

I knew it!

Cettina!

-Tell them to print 10,000 copies. -But…

Five thousand will go outside of Sicily, 1,000 to Rome,

and the rest to other major cities.

But we're already running on credit with our distributor.

Tell him those are our conditions, or we'll go elsewhere.

FIRST ISSUE OF THE SICILIANS SOLD OUT REPRINTING UNDERWAY

Hurry, you're wasting time.

-Look at you, not a drop of sweat. -I'm dripping!

Three hundred and thirty six.

-Miki, take this. -Yes.

PRESS DELIVERY

We can swap if you want.

-Can I take a look? -Sure.

Uncle!

-This is unacceptable. -Why?

-They'll clobber us. -Mind your own business.

-No way. -Do your job!

No way, uncle.

Is he nuts?

What's going on?

He says it's too risky. The Knights of Labor, Santapaola…

-They'll clobber you. -What will I tell my boss?

That the truck driver decides what we should print?

What's wrong, honey? She's tired.

-They're here. -Look who it is!

Sir!

-Congratulations. -Thank you.

So, guys…

Congratulations!

Four thousand copies sold in Catania, 2,800 in Palermo,

approximately 12,000 in Sicily.

We sold 1,000 in Turin and Milan.

In Novara, 64 copies, my relatives.

-What are you talking about? -I have relatives in Novara.

The problem is that with just the money from the sales,

we can barely buy paper for our next issues.

Barely!

We need advertisements.

I contacted Stabile Theater, but they don't have the money.

Only the pizza shop on Via Santa Filomena bought a whole page.

That's Catania's best pizza, everyone knows that.

Come on, Rosario…

Why the long faces? We'll just hang on for a bit longer.

-Sure, what's the big deal? -Antonio, you're so cranky!

We need to find people willing to support us.

Here's a letter from the Bank of Sicily

thanking us, but they're not interested in buying an ad.

-Given our content, that's to be expected. -If we go on like this, we risk closure.

We can't get by without ads.

Antonio's right, we risk closure.

No, he's not right. Your dad decides if we close.

No, our debts decide it.

You always think about money!

You can't wait to work for Catania Daily News.

Would I be here if all I cared about was money?

You're only here because fucking Gaetano hooked you up.

-How dare you? Sit down. -How dare you!

Shut up!

Enough!

Go sit down.

-You'd better not get up! -Antonio, come on…

Is the public prosecutor's office report ready?

Yes, we're almost done.

What does "almost" mean? "Almost" isn't an answer.

You've been saying "almost" for three days, this is unacceptable.

-The cover photos? -We're working…

I can't hear, speak up.

We're working on them.

-Is the culture section ready? -Of course.

Can I see the mock-ups of the next issue?

-I thought… -Think about what I've asked you to do!

Is that clear?

I asked if I can see the mock-ups of the next issue.

No.

-You're all brain-dead this morning. -We're in the red.

You think I don't know? That I need you to tell me?

Is that an excuse not to work?

Leave those things to me!

You focus on finishing the issue.

Cettina, call me when it's ready.

Finish this issue!

The magazine is far from finished!

Sir, we have visitors.

Come see.

-Hello, sir. -Hello.

I was passing by and decided to stop in.

Nice place.

Great magazine, really, well done.

We were wrong about you.

May I steal ten minutes of your time?

Sure.

"A pleasant businessman

who, until recently, shook hands with prefects and MPs

could be accused of killing Palermo's prefect."

You're saying I had Dalla Chiesa killed?

The article is a bit more complex than that.

I see.

Your magazine will go under soon, as you well know,

because you don't have a cent.

And trust me, no sane-minded businessman would buy an ad in The Sicilians.

Want to fire me from my own magazine now?

Not at all.

I've come to settle your severance pay for Southerly Times.

I admit it was a mistake to have fired you that way,

especially a man like you.

Here's the 20 million lira your lawyer requested,

plus 200 more…

and a role as director of the new TV channel we're launching.

It'll be the most important channel in Sicily and beyond.

You can bring some of your people with you,

even all of them, if you think they're worthy.

But let's be clear, The Sicilians has to close.

Sir…

I've listened to you with utmost attention.

As for the severance pay,

I believe it's best to discuss it in another office.

Now, if you don't mind…

I have a magazine to run.

What happened?

Nothing important.

Want to go for a swim?

-Know what this is? -No.

Day marker. Anyone know what this nautical term means?

-Orioles! -No.

It's an identifier on land that serves as a navigational aid.

You're real old sea dogs!

-How much did Graci offer? -Two hundred twenty million.

Damn!

He assumes everyone has a price tag around their neck.

We do need money, though.

Now comrade Orioles will explain

the role of capital in industrial development.

If I don't break my neck!

-Come on, guys! -I'm a mountain goat!

-Sure! -There you go.

-Easy. -Help me!

Wait, let's do this way.

Sir…

I haven't figured out your political stance.

Are you socialist, anarchist, liberal, libertarian…

Me? Tolstoyan!

Yes!

Go, guys!

Go!

Easy, easy!

Come on!

Riccardo, dive in!

Come on!

Morning, Lina.

Pippo!

-Hi. -Is this a bad time?

No, come in.

-Want some coffee? -No, thanks, just had some.

You came to ask for a divorce?

No!

Not at all.

Divorce…

I just went to the bank

regarding the new magazine.

I need 20 million lira to get it going.

-Where'll you get it? -I can get a loan.

But since they are shrewd benefactors,

they want the house as collateral.

Half is yours,

and you're free to say no, you have every right to…

To what? Use the house as revenge for the separation?

No, I meant you can say no, I would understand.

Pippo, this is my home, but it's yours, too.

Come on, I'll do it.

-You'll sign now? -Yes.

There's tons of paperwork, I can come back another time.

Okay, here…

All these here.

-You sure it's a home equity loan? -Yes, just sign.

You've just signed over all your assets… kidding!

Thank you so much.

We've endured awful things,

corruption, poverty,

abandoned human beings, and all sorts of violence,

in the petty hope that none of this could happen to us.

Now the truth has surfaced,

so has justice!

Great, thank you all, that's all for tonight.

See you tomorrow at 6:00 p.m. to fine-tune things.

-What do you think? -The first act is much better.

Thanks, bye.

What do you say, Gaetano?

Don't you find the mirror a bit much?

It's one of the show's most powerful elements.

You're a theater critic now?

You know, as for the mirror…

I'll tell you exactly what'll happen on opening night.

Final ovation, imagine a final ovation.

Endless applause echoing through the theater,

and this applause will gather in one big embrace

every character present that night,

those played by the actors on stage,

crooked judge, Knight of Labor, corrupt politician,

they'll move forward on the stage to take a curtain call…

and below, in the stalls, applauding us,

you'll see all of the real characters

who are thrilled to look at themselves in the mirror!

And you worry about the mirror!

They'll be thrilled.

The cowardly judge, I won't name, but we know who he is,

who always sits here together with his wife…

"Well done!"

The real Knights of Labor who always sit in the first two rows…

"Well done!"

And his highness the undersecretary,

poor thing, elected thanks to mafia votes,

who never misses a show and is the best actor of them all.

Do you realize what'll happen?

Power in Catania has become so isolated

that everything that happens outside, in the so-called real world,

no longer affects it!

No longer harms it!

Suffering, riots, accusations,

even our books, our papers…

theater, cinema, literature…

We all skim by without hurting anyone!

Everyone here feels invulnerable.

And they will…

clap, clap, clap.

You're not just an intellectual…

You're a theater man,

you're a playwright, you'd be an excellent actor, too.

My ass.

Why do you insist on talking about the mafia every day?

You're not a cop.

You're someone who loves life, who lives a full life.

-You don't want to disappoint those kids? -Gaetano, the same old questions…

Maybe you're right.

-How about a new question? -Sure, let me hear it.

If they offer to buy your magazine again,

say yes, accept.

How do you know they offered to buy it?

I know, don't worry. They asked, and you said no.

Catania is insane…

Pippo… aren't you afraid?

Tell me,

did they send you?

-Knock it off. -Did they send you?

Are you serious?

I'm Gaetano, I'm here because I'm worried for you.

I'm leaving.

Think about the mirror.

Bye, Pippo.

VERSA THEATER

Claudio, it's me.

We just finished rehearsals.

I know, it's late, past midnight.

I just wanted to say hi.

All right, good night.

Bye.

Patrizia, the baby is tired, we need to go.

What's on your mind, Dad?

Nothing.

I found out it's nice to have nothing on your mind at times.

-How lovely! -She's tired, let's go.

Darling!

How nice!

Guys,

we played bingo, opened gifts…

someone here will be debuting at the Stabile Theater soon.

-She has one line. -Written by Pirandello though!

Turi Ferro will be there. Did you memorize it?

Take your time and let us all hear it.

Go on.

Can I play?

Look how many puppets!

This looks like Giacomino, with curls like mine.

-Well done! -Bravo!

Good night, I'm going to sleep.

-Bye, dad. -Miki!

-Hello, attorney. -Come over here.

So, how are you?

Fine.

Your dad always talks about you, but I never see you.

-Still a tennis pro? -He stopped playing.

-He writes for Pippo Fava. -The womanizer.

-He's obsessed with the mafia. -I lost interest in tennis.

That's a pity.

Nobody ever gave me a 6-0, 6-0 match before!

Nobody.

Trust me, you work too much.

You're neglecting the important stuff.

Tell me something…

Why is it that the mafia bothers you so much?

Why?

-Why? -Yes, why?

-Meaning? -Let's just play.

The mafia never bothered anyone in Catania.

They're just a few peons.

But in Palermo…

they butcher people in the streets,

shoot policemen, judges,

prefects, but here…

They make money, tons of it.

Sick money, dirty money…

Money doesn't smell.

It comes into the city, opens new stores,

funds building sites,

and puts food on the tables of thousands.

That's what it does.

Have you ever wondered why, in Catania,

there's never been a trial against a mafioso?

I'll tell you why, because they behave properly here.

They offer safety.

Do you think anybody cares

if Santapaola and his cronies end up in jail?

Answer me.

Miki, answer.

I'm joking!

I'm just joking, don't get upset.

Can't I even joke around?

You're so serious!

Forget it…

Good night.

Miki…

I want a tennis rematch.

-All right. -Good night.

-Sign here, please. -Sure.

Who sent this ricotta?

It was sent by…

Mr. Graci.

Call and thank him.

Let me see.

Mr. Graci.

Yes, mom, I'll thank him.

-Give me the bag. -No need.

What show is it?

Enzo Biagi will be interviewing us.

General Dalla Chiesa's son will be there, and a mafia attorney…

Happy to go?

Unplugging for a few days is good.

Do you regret it?

What?

Leaving Rome.

Not at all.

You seem bored here.

That being with us is a drag,

we're pedantic, we're slow…

Actually, I love being around you guys.

I wish I could read the minds of you 20-year-olds!

We also let you win soccer games, don't forget.

That's critical.

But really, why don't you go back to Rome?

Things seem to be getting messy here in Catania.

You really want me to leave Catania?

Come on…

Tonight we'll be hearing from

Attorney Giuseppe Mirabile who defended Frank Coppola

and now Michele and Salvatore Greco,

considered the brains behind Sicily's mafia.

Nando Dalla Chiesa, the General's son and a professor.

Giuseppe Fava, Sicilian writer,

author of novels such as "Before They're Killed"

and theatrical works such as "Latest Violence".

As a journalist, you've had direct contact with the mafia world?

Yes,

but I realize there's immense confusion

in regards to the mafia.

Mafiosi aren't just the ones who kill,

those are executioners.

You mentioned the names of the Greco brothers,

I don't know them personally, but people say…

they're Palermo's leading mafiosi, the real bosses,

the rulers of the mafia, but it's not true.

They're executors as well.

They're part of the organization.

Mafiosi are present in other places and other divisions.

They're in Parliament, some mafiosi are ministers,

some are bankers, some are the nation's leaders.

If we don't clear up this misunderstanding,

it becomes hard to speak about this topic.

The issue with the mafia is more tragic and intense

as it regards the nation's leaders and there is the risk…

of provoking the death and destruction of Italy's culture.

Professor, you've done scientific studies about…

the mafia and power.

Could the mafia exist without politics?

-Good night, Cettina. -See you tomorrow, sir.

-When will you leave? -In ten minutes.

I'm going to get my granddaughter. She's a great theater actress.

-Good night. -See you tomorrow.

Know what the best thing was about your father?

Not that he was a great journalist,

or that when he spoke…

it was impossible to not listen to him.

No, he…

he loved.

He was a man capable of love.

You either have this, or you don't.

Don't tell me these things, Gaetano.

Write them.

In your paper.

JOURNALIST GIUSEPPE FAVA KILLED

The problem is, the next issue is due in 20 days.

We can't do it any sooner.

We just can't.

Too late. Let's make a special issue, more like a newspaper.

-If our vendors will give us credit. -We'll get by.

They need to know we'll carry on, that their action was pointless.

-Okay, let's print it tomorrow. -Tomorrow?

-Can we manage? -We'll manage.

We will manage.

What do they say?

That it's an inexplicable murder in a city with no mafia presence.

Right… no motive is excluded.

They're even investigating your dad's private life.

Who wrote the piece?

Gaetano.

Gaetano, a friend…

They're just doing their job.

We will not fall into their trap.

I can assure the entire world that, as Mayor of this city,

I was never subjected to any pressure or threats.

This city is and has been immune from the cancer of mafia.

Immune…

Thanks to the undersecretary for being here.

-The floor is yours. -Thanks, Mr. Mayor.

In this city, businessmen are being unjustly criminalized.

Be careful about talking about mafia. It's risky…

-Michele Gambino? -Yes.

-Come with me. -What for?

Come with me, please.

We found out that Pippo Fava was fond of the ladies.

-Cigarette? -No, thanks.

Maybe he was fond of your girlfriend, too.

What's her name? Giusi.

What are you saying?

-Who told you that? -That's not your business.

I want to know what happened when you found out.

You're a youngster, hot-blooded,

and rightfully so.

But jealousy can mess with the head.

I'm leaving.

What did you expect?

These are the same cops who've protected Santapaola.

We expected what Pippo did,

that at least death would change their ways.

They pretend to look for the culprits.

We should report them to the public prosecutor.

But Pippo might not have.

Enough, Pippo is gone now.

We're here. Period.

Who are we without him?

Giovanna, we're all afraid, but we can't succumb to it.

We have to keep doing our job, united, like he taught us.

-But let's set new rules. -Rules?

We'll put all our names in the byline, like Palermo's judges.

We'll all share the details of the reports we're working on.

If one of us gets killed, the report still goes on.

I want to write more about the mafia, too.

But the problem is, we have no supplies left.

We have subscribers, we just need some ads.

The special issue is doing well.

And…

we have all of these letters.

So many people asking us to carry on.

Let's keep going.

Fund raising, loans if necessary, anything.

I have 200,000 lira, we could use it.

-How come? -I sold my Vespa.

I can walk, I need to lose weight.

-May I? -Hi, Sebastiano.

I've come to say that what happened is unacceptable.

-Your father was such a good man. -Thanks.

Hello?

I'm retired now, I don't have much to do.

If you need anyone to work for free, you can count on me.

Fuck you, shithead!

What's wrong?

He said they'll kill us all.

-Good evening. -Hi.

-Me? -You were faster.

Let me see.

You had a good idea.

A gun is useful.

Something to think about if they show up.

We're not soldiers, Miki, we don't shoot.

We write.

-Well done, guys. -Great job.

Guys, thank you all.

We can do this.

-I'm sure of it. -Look.

Thanks, guys.

HONEST SICILY

You did a great job.

We could've done better.

-This war won't last just a day. -Why tell me that?

You can't keep living this way.

-Living like an old man, what for? -For me.

Dad wasn't like that.

I'm not Dad. What can I say?

Think I don't wish I were more like him?

Always smiling, playing things down, anti-sadness.

Think I don't wish I wrote like him?

But I'm not capable.

But he was lucky compared to us.

He didn't know what was coming, didn't have time to realize it.

-At age 20, we're older than him. -Claudio…

You did a great job.

-Go ahead! -Pass the ball!

Ball!

See the mafia?

I don't.

I see these kids, I see Catania, but I see nothing.

I wonder if we made it all up.

-Why say this to me? -Who should I say it to?

Riccardo would get mad, Claudio would defend his father…

I thought it was because you loved me, silly girl!

-That too. -That too?

Let's go.

The Knights of Labor want to sue us, the bastards united.

Civil suit.

Major civil lawyers are on their side, and the attorney general, too.

-How much do they want? -One billion lira.

-They want to sink us. -They'll try.

-They'll do it. -No, they won't.

These are influential people, major lawyers.

One billion…

We'll get lawyers too. Italy's full of them.

Theirs are powerful, ours will be the most skilled.

We fully trust you, your firm is very prestigious…

No, Luca, I understand.

But it's a thorny case, a rather particular trial…

-I'll come with a co-worker. -Hello, attorney?

It's Antonio Roccuzzo, son of notary public Roccuzzo.

A lawsuit's been filed against us by the Knights of Labor,

and we were wondering if…

-Hello? -Our resources are limited.

-College buddies are unreliable. -Yes, he's here.

I'll bring all the documents.

See you later, thanks.

-We have to go to the precinct. -Why?

-I don't know. -Again?

We're gonna get arrested, we'll need lawyers.

-Today, at 4:00 p.m. -See you.

Piazza Manganelli, okay.

Thanks, attorney.

We told you what we know about my father's murder, the rest is in here.

We know.

Many of the people you mentioned in your articles

will spend tomorrow night in jail.

A huge operation is underway, a sort of raid.

-But local Catania cops… -Never mind Catania.

The arrest warrants are from Turin.

We got here last night to take over the case.

I called you here because I thought you should know.

And to thank you.

Take a look.

Go on.

Come on, move!

Keep walking.

Right on, guys!

-Guys! -Come on, dance!

IN 1986, THE STAFF OF THE SICILIANS WON THE CIVIL LAWSUIT

AGAINST CATANIA'S KNIGHTS OF LABOR.

NITTO SANTAPAOLA WAS ARRESTED IN 1993.

IN 2006 HE WAS FINALLY SENTENCED TO LIFE

FOR THE MURDER OF GIUSEPPE FAVA.

GAETANO GRACI, ARRESTED IN 1994, DIED DURING HIS TRIAL. T