All language subtitles for Notte destate con profilo greco, occhi a mandorla e odore di basilico 1986-subrip

A Turkish moon is passing

No, this moon is Hawaiian

But no

This is the moon

Of Shanghai

Dance with me, my love

Sway with me, like this

The moon of Shanghai

Adventure, palms and pearls

And, who knows?

A pirate with a gold earring

What beautiful rhythm

Full of coincidences

Special

Life, in the end

Is not so romantic

But a scarf over the lamp

Can help

There's a poster on the wall

With palms and sea

Of green and blue

Come on, love, come on

Move your hips, yes

This Shanghai moon is for us

At the moment, signora Bolk is on a plane,

personally supervising the recuperation
efforts of the Pelicans.

Yesterday,
a Dutch tanker had a fuel spill,

and we alone can prevent the danger
of pollution.

You must know our famous ecological fleet.
Yes, our Pelicans.

They're fantastic.
Look, here's one of our babies returning.

With one of those little toys,

we can recuperate 90% of the spills
in the ocean.

They've prevented
some true ecological disasters.

Furthermore,
we replace oxygen into the polluted sea,

and we dredge and recycle the garbage.

So after years of destruction,

Bolk, I mean, the signora,
works to restore nature.

We are the world leaders
in the ecological sector.

You must know our slogan:

“Get rich watching over nature.”

That, like all the rest,
is the creation of signora Bolk.

True, she's pushy,
but with character and fearlessness.

She's a legend...

truly fantastic.

Salvatore Cantalamessa, aka “Turi”?

At your service.

FBI, CIA, Interpol...

I have a project...
very delicate, very dangerous.

Practically impossible.

Interested?

Unfortunately, signora,
I'm currently retired.

Why not think about it?

Signora, I know you'll make me
an enticing offer,

but I don't need the money.

Consider me retir...

Consider me un-retired, signora.

Of course.

BORN IN CATANIA 7/7/47

CRIMINAL HISTORY: THEFT

So, is that him?

- No. Are you sure?
- Very sure, signora.

I made a very thorough investigation.

I believe it, given all the time you took.

Only the absolute minimum needed, signora.

Run the tape, please.

Signora, as an expert,

I must permit myself to warn you
that this project can't be done.

No? And why not?

Because, signora...

Signora, it's a criminal project.

The risk is too high.

Not to mention the 30 years in jail.

Excuse me,
but I hired a military blitz expert

because I want guerrilla action.

You sound like a desk clerk.

If I wanted to send a letter,
my lawyer would have been enough.

Anyway, as the operational base,

I suggest my little island
off the coast of Sardinia.

It's perfect and almost inaccessible.

No doubt, signora, but how can I say this?

This project can't be done.

Again?

Time is short, signor Cantalamessa.

Don't make me waste it.

If you're not up to it or you're afraid...

Signora, I'm not afraid of anyone.

Bad. That's very bad.

A little prudence
would have helped you physically.

You're missing a few pieces.

What happened to your eye?

Nicaragua.

Yep.

The mistake of my explosives expert.

The hand was in Tehran.

An error in calculation. My fault again.

- And the foot...
- l don't give a shit.

Let me understand something.

Can you organize a blitz?

Signora, that's my specialty.
But I did it for the government.

So, let's go. We're wasting time.

Just consider me a government.

Get the hell out of here! Fast!

Well, well. The leader of the pack.

Pull him up.

Let's have a look.

That's him?

Well!

It's him? You absolutely sure about that?

Very sure.

This could be very embarrassing
if this is some innocent tourist...

Signora, this is Giuseppe Catania,

the brains behind every recent kidnapping
in Italy.

He operates out of Sardinia,
but he's Sicilian, like me.

With so many Sardinian kidnappers...
a Sicilian here?

He moved here ten years ago...
a family schism.

You mean family, family,
or Family, Family?

Signora, Family.

He's an old-style hood.

He didn't like drugs.

So he moved his operations here
and specialized in other work.

And it's him?

It's him, signora. It's him.

Oh, so many chains.

Are they made by Bulgari?

We found them in his dog kennel.

Buying them would have been conspicuous,
so we took these.

Well, a little elegance doesn't hurt.

This bum is a real clothes horse.

All his garments are Valentino.

Even his shorts.

Pardon me, even his undergarments.

What is this?

I have the same jacket in Cortina.

With our money.

Well, signora, we have to talk.

Yes, but after 10:00.

- No, it's important that we proceed...
- Open the door.

- With maximum speed and organization!
- After 10:00.

Here I am. Well?

Signora, with this closed circuit,
we can check on him anytime.

Wonderful.

Now we'll have a good laugh.

Such apocalyptic fury.

How sweet.

Learn the joy of being chained.

Turn up the sound, Turi.

Look how he fights.

The idiot's going to hurt himself.

Like a wounded lion.

Now you're a poet, Turi?

“A wounded lion.”

He's a furious asshole.

Signora, as a lady,
you are free to curse freely.

I am your humble, poetic servant,
but if I may speak freely,

let me begin with his big whore
of a mother...

I detest vulgarity.

But look how he fights.

- You son of a bitch!
- So over the top.

Good Lord.

He's really crazy.
I wish my partners could see him.

Please, signora,
secrecy is our only insurance.

If you go public, I quit.

Yes, yes. How boring.

- Boring? It's 30 years in jail.
- Are you worried?

Me, worried? No, signora.
It would be 30 years for you.

Fine, fine. I get it.

Were you this annoying in the CIA?
I get it already.

He just doesn't give up.

My goodness.

Look at him. He's really a beast.

Will this last long?

You'll see. Two weeks in solitary
will crack his mind.

Anguish enters the cracks, then fear.
Then fear gives way to terror.

There have been experimental
psychological treatments done.

These are very Freudian methods.

I'm not interested in Freud,
that Viennese troublemaker.

So now the police are psychoanalysts too.

Signora, I am not the police.

Besides my degree in international law,
I am also a psychiatrist.

That too?

Signora, what's that supposed to mean?
I am a psychiatrist.

- With that eye?
- With this eye, yes.

Okay.

I will be leaving for two weeks.

Is that going to be too much in solitary?

I don't want him to go insane.

Two weeks, signora.
Trust my experience. Give me credit.

Sure, I do.
It's very expensive experience.

Psychiatrist. Whatever.

Now I've heard it all.

What did they put on my face?

Is it a muzzle?

Hey, what do you think I am, a dog?
What is this?

What have you put on me?
I can't see a damn thing.

What is this, you sons of bitches.

I smell a corpse.

And you.

Do you know you're digging your own grave?

You know who I am?

I'll tear your heart out and eat it.

You got that, you son of a bitch?
This silence bullshit, is it your idea?

Do you think you can scare me
with this dark, silent game?

Yes. Silence is my friend.

I can go three years
without uttering a word.

People who know me call me...

The Rock.

Shit!

I fucked you.

You must be a Sicilian dickhead.

Good to know.

Fire!

Hey, boss. The best.

The best shot
in the Washington department.

Maybe in the old days.

Baltimore?

Industrial Ecological Conference?

Ah, it's you, signora.

Yes, two weeks of silence
have humbled him.

You'll see.

Well done, Turi.

So he's calm?

I'll speak with him personally.

No, signora. Absolutely not.

Absolutely yes.

Are you kidding, Turi?

I came back just for this.
Do you realize that?

This enterprise is my personal war.

I promoted this entire venture.
I convinced the others.

All of us injured industrialists
formed a company.

Not only to get back the extorted money.
It's a matter of principle.

Now that I've had some satisfaction,
you want to castrate me.

No, signora. I'm not castrating anyone.

You're castrating me.

He's my mouse, and I want to play.

Please don't, signora.

It would set a dangerous precedent
and disrupt negotiations.

- Bulishit.
- Signora, how dare you?

Well, excuse me. But I repeat, bullshit.

Don't take it personally, but if you try
to stop me, Turi... forget it.

And do you know why it's bullshit?

Because maximum personal contact
is necessary

in order for the kidnappers
to know their enemy.

The media made us look like shitheads.

We paid millions,
letting them blackmail and terrorize us.

It's enough.

It's time they learn to respect
and fear the ruling class.

And not only the kidnappers,
but the public as well.

We are the cream of the land,

and we allowed these bastards
to believe they can dictate.

It's time to put them in their place
and change our image.

Listen, what if we use the mass media?

Actually, you know what?

What about a press conference?

Signora, you may be crazy, but I'm not.

That's repulsive.

Excuse me, but my work depends on secrecy.

“Secret agent.”

You want a publicity agent. I quit.

What do you mean quit?

Okay, super expert.

You win. We'll be discreet.
But I get to speak to the prisoner.

Give me that thing.

- Which button?
- This one.

Are you sure he'll hear me?

He'll hear, he'll hear.

Not so much fun being kidnapped, is it?

I... don't know who the fuck you are...

but I do know one thing.

You're digging your own grave.

Oh, I'm terrified.

I'm shitting my pants.

Look at him.

Listen well, young man.
Accounts: Gennargentu at Credit Suisse.

Account: Grazia Plena, the Bank of Zurich,

and account:
Orosei at the Bank of Lausanne.

Am I clear?

Who are you?

The one who is screwing you
and all your kind in the ass.

- What do you want from me?
- 100 million.

Yes, Mr. Bandit.

I've done my calculations right.

100 million, the known total income
of your organization

over the last ten years.

Naturally, that's without compounded
interest, inflation and expenses.

100 million.

Yes, sir. 100 million.

You are crazy.

- Nope.
- You're crazy.

I'm precise, Mr. Bandit.

I'm tenaciously precise.

I'm speaking of your last five
major kidnappings,

from the Pautasso kidnapping
to the Piana-Joyce one.

You remember them, don't you?
You organized all of them.

It is perfect accounting.

Not the incompetent confusion
of the Anonymous Kidnappers Company.

What a mess.

Your accounting is simply laughable.

Ridiculous.

You can't even call it accounting.

It's a mess. A total mess.

Money is really not your thing.

We could show you
what a real business looks like.

- You who?
- The ruling class, that's who.

Listen, Ruling Class...

come here and let's talk face fo face.

I'm sick of the loudspeakers.

Or are you scared?

Me, scared?

Young man, you're a total megalomaniac.

Blindfolded and bound...

Who do you think you are?
Do you think you can scare me?

Who do you think you are?

Spectre?

Mephistopheles?

What about you? You!

Who do you think you are, Ruling Class?

I'm exactly that.

I'm the representative of a company

that made a serious analysis
of investments and profits

in the same way we would open a factory.

An association of rich people.

Perhaps you can't understand that.

What the fuck are you saying, you whore?

Stop mumbling, you country bumpkin.

The rich, who all of you envy.

You envy us all.

Everything in Italy moves on envy,
especially politics.

Oh, that is envy, pure and simple.

And you too. But you...

Communist? No!

Because that would be too bourgeois.

Surely, you're the hero
of your hypothetical revolution.

Because everyone,

the media, haven't they opened
an ideological umbrella over your head?

Aren't you all the Robin Hoods
of the middle class

when you mug old ladies?

Isn't abduction a revolutionary act
in the name of the proletariat?

You're nothing more than bums.

What the fuck are you talking about?

Yes, Mr. Bandit.

You're done blackmailing me.

We rich are better than you
and that's that.

We work, we get busy...

We build, we take risks.

We are the economic miracle.

Fiat, Azzurra, Fellini, Valentino.

We are “Made in Italy,”
and you think you can screw us forever?

You've done well until now
because we had other distractions.

We're fed up, and now we want
our money back and that's that.

All I need is a signature.

Here. Sign here.

- What would I be signing?
- The usual letter to the family.

“We demand payment,” et cetera, et cetera.

Never!

You're disgusting.

What manners.

He dares to spit.

Too bad for you, young man.

We don't need the money,
so there's no hurry on our end.

You can stay buried alive here
for ten years.

Syphilitic bitch. You're shit!

Oxford, eh?
Or perhaps you studied at Eton?

Very well.
Until you sign, bread and water.

You gigantic whore.

I'll drink your fucking blood!

Wonderful.

Wonderful.

Wonderful.

That's what I mean.

It's been five years of wonderful.

It's sweet...

Just once, while we make love,
you can call me a filthy pig.

Maybe I'd have a stroke.

You know, the other night,
a man called me...

a syphilitic bitch.

What? Who dared to say this?

A very temperamental young man.

My darling...

when you are making love with me,

do you ever think of someone like...

a beautiful peasant or a black girl?

Don't be an idiot, my love.

Even if the dollar keeps dropping,
there's no hope for post-industrialists

until they understand
that you make more money

cleaning up nature,
rather than destroying it.

Until we see that there is more money

in improving the world
rather than destroying it,

there is no hope for progress.

Darling, you're a true
postindustrial industrialist

with irresistible green eyes.

What is this, my love?

9 1/2 Weeks?

That's crazy bullshit.

We get dirty and nothing happens.

If the Americans aren't erotic,
imagine you Swiss.

Enough already.

Please.

Yes, hello?

One moment, please.

- It's for you, my love.
- Thank you.

Yes? It's you, Turi.

Why is that?

Something's wrong with my little puppy?

Emaciated?

What do you mean?

Fasting?

When I said no food, I didn't mean
you should literally starve him to death.

Fine, fine. Clearly I can't trust you.

He's been on intravenous fluids
for a month?

You ordered, and I obeyed.

That's all well and good,
but have some common sense.

Do I have to think of everything?

You said you wanted to be in charge,

and we followed your orders.

I don't shirk my responsibility.
I'm a professional.

Please, don't start again.

- I wonder if the solarium is ready.
- Excuse me?

I said, is the solarium ready?

A month without proteins.

What if he had a heart attack?

Honestly, a man of your expertise.

A woman as bossy as yourself
should not be surprised.

I'm sorry, dear sir, but no.

I accept my responsibilities,
and I demand that you accept yours.

You don't think I do?

Up to a point.

You forbade my press conference,

you starved my prisoner,
and now you're getting cranky.

I'm used to being the boss, when I work.

- You took that away.
- I want to check on the prisoner.

I'm going directly to his cell.

Please, signora. No personal contact.

We have a closed-circuit TV for that.

Here, here.

Please, take a look.

My God, what have you done to him?

Oh, my goodness.
Look at the state he's in.

Just look at him.

I want to vomit.
This isn't a concentration camp.

First and foremost, we must fix him up.

Bring him to the solarium.

- The solarium?
- That's an order.

This way.

Adjust his chains.

Go on. Out.

Put his shoes on.

My goodness. Look at him.

Look at how skinny he is.

It's unbelievable. He's emaciated...

malnourished. Just look at him.

His ribs are sticking out.

Turi, I hold you responsible.

You did this, and you must fix the damage.

The prisoner is unrecognizable.

Who will pay for him, in this condition?
He's worthless.

I'll give you a week.

I want the bandit we kidnapped,
not this wreck.

- How old is he?
- Thirty-eight.

- Eighty-eight?
- Thirty-eight, forty.

That Sicilian accent...

Not bad. He's a handsome specimen.

Ah, you like him? Better that way.

Why better?

- No reason.
- No?

No, wait a minute.
You were being ironic there.

You don't find him handsome?

Excuse me, signora, I'm no connoisseur.

Only women are beautiful to me.

We should go, signora.

He'll awaken soon, the beast.

Take care of him.

The light.

Did they poison me?

Well?

He's eating.

Look at him eat. He makes me nauseous.

Whore.

The audio was on by mistake.
I'll turn it off.

Leave it.

Listen, you, instead of hurling insults,

why don't you learn to eat
with your mouth closed?

You're a bandit, okay,
but do you have to be disgusting?

With your mouth open, we can see
all that repulsive, chewed up, wet food.

It's disgusting.

I disgust you?

Excellent

Okay?

Listen.

Before you vomit,

perhaps you would be kind enough
fo fell me

how I came from hell...

into paradise?

What the hell? Shit!

Turi, turn off the alarm.

This is a perfect, inaccessible,
technological paradise

of maximum security.

And you are here
because you must be healthy

when your ransom is paid.

So eat, get strong, listen to music...

classical, of course.

We'll raise your level some.

Get some fresh air.
You can have anything you want.

Anything I want?

No, because I have a headache.

You can have an aspirin.

Understand one thing, young man,
we're not torturers.

We are avengers. Understand?

What aspirin, signora?

His “headache” is something else.

Respectfully, he needs a woman,
not an aspirin.

Oh, what a pig.

Pig? He's a man.

Imagine that. Sure, he's Sicilian.

Ten minutes ago, he was near death.

Now, one breakfast is enough

to make him break loose
with delirious testosterone.

Braggart.

Is the boat ready? I want to swim.

- Shit.
- Damn it.

What is it?

There's a helicopter headed our way.

- They may be able to see him.
- True.

Christ! The solarium.
Get him down quickly.

Get a move on.

What the hell is going on?

Where are you taking me?

Let go of me! Let me go!

Hey, I have to blow my nose.

Wait.

Where are you? You rat fink!
You're blind and handcuffed.

Where do you think you're going?

You sorry excuse for a Sicilian.
Give me the key.

- Give yourself up...
- Give me the key!

The boss has it!

- Lead me to the sea. Which way?
- Over there!

To the right, to the right.

The sea. Are we near the sea?

No, there's a terrace!

But there's no balustrade!

- No!
- Even better.

We'll fall to our death. Wait!

Where's the sea?

- That way.
- Let's go.

We'll get smashed on the rocks!

No. Wait. I'm scared.

Stop! There are only rocks! No sea!

- Christ! My glasses!
- Where's the sea?

I can't see! Not here, over there!

Is the fucking sea under here?

Yes. I think... I hope so!

I can't swim. Help!

Help!

Help.

I can't swim!

And they wonder why people curse.

- Where is he?
- I don't feel so well.

I don't know how to swim.

Run! Run!

Wait.

Damned lotion.

Wait. Are you afraid?

Don't go. Wait.

Wait!

Don't be afraid! Wait!

He's over there by the white rocks.

- There.
- Quick, boys!

Shit! The bastard is by the rocks.

That woman will give me a heart attack.

Hey, get a move on!

- Absolutely nothing, boss.
- Nothing?

How, nothing?

How can he disappear like a cat?
He's bound and blindfolded.

- There has to be a trace.
- Well, there isn't.

Do you want me to make one up?

Should I lie? There's no trace!

That's impossible.

Find one.

Find one.

- So you didn't catch him?
- There's no escape from the island.

The waters are secured with men
and alarm nets.

The area is completely secure.

No excuses. You didn't catch him.

You enjoy provoking me, signora.

What? Provoking you?

You didn't catch him.

A bound, blindfolded, starved bandit
was able to dupe you,

the super agent of terrorism
and guerrilla warfare.

Now I understand all of that bullshit
about Tehran, Vietnam,

and the whole Nicaragua mess,
and now we're stuck with their music.

You're incompetent clowns.

Signora, you can't say that
to Salvatore Cantalamessa.

I do say it to Salvatore Cantalamessa.
Incompetent clown!

- And I say, signora, you broke my balls.
- Excuse me?

Signora, you broke my balls.

Is that clear? I quit!

Oh, no. That's too easy, sweetheart.

Don't call me “sweetheart.”
I have my limits.

Fine.
I won't call you sweetheart, shitface.

Anyway, that's too easy.
I risk 30 years in jail,

and you're offended.

Yes. You don't follow any rules.

You throw out orders
without consulting me.

And then you offend me.
Signora, I am a professional.

Incompetent clown?
Say that to your mother.

I'll tell her that and worse.

What? What's that face?

Well, I am going to make a bet with you.

Why are you whispering?

Let's keep it between us.

I bet that I can find him in five minutes.

That'll be the day.

A bet. I'll accept any stakes.

- One million, a punch, a kiss.
- Punches? Kisses?

Are you losing your mind?
Now you're making me angry, Turi.

Fine, fine.

Consider it my tribute to your beauty.
Allow me...

Let's see if he's ticklish.

He's sleeping.

The alarm. Go sound the alarm, please.

Are you crazy? You're the super cop.

You go and sound the alarm.

- Okay. I'll leave you alone with him.
- No. I'll go.

I'll go.

Micky! Quick, the rat fink is here!

Bastards.

Bastards!

And now the entire air force

can fly over us, and no one will see.

This awning is lovely...
absolutely perfect.

You should be thankful
for your good fortune.

After that stupid attempt,
you should be dead.

The orders were to shoot on sight.
What a stupid move.

All that exercise
gave you quite an appetite.

Although that's not difficult
with Persian caviar and Tuscan beans.

Sure, Persian caviar.

A good piece of Sardinian cheese
that tastes like milk

and wine that tastes like grapes
are much better than your caviar.

You don't exactly treat
your prisoners like this?

How would you know
how I treat my prisoners?

Were you ever a guest?

Me?

My dear, petty thief,
do you think I'm such an idiot?

- Yes, I think you're an idiot.
- Excuse me?

Could it possibly be
that you and I got busy?

What?

Oh, yes. The little blonde Milanese.

We took her four years ago.

Yes, you're that little blonde whore.
It has to be you.

It's you, right? Yes, it must be you.

Four years ago?

Four years ago. Oh! The Morlocchi girl!

Yes, the Morlocchi girl.

You got busy with her, huh? Lovely.

Yes, that's quite lovely.

Don't look so satisfied, you bandit.

You were just one of a thousand.

Don't think you took advantage
of a little virgin.

Poor baby. At least she was amused.

Morlocchi, yes.

You're one up on the devil.

Yes, I know all about it.

Everything except for
the pornographic particular.

“Particular'?

Listen, you gigantic whore.

I'll show you my particular,
in blind flight.

Right now, my friend,
the particular, is getting hungry.

What ridiculous bullshit.

Calm down, young man.

You can tell your particular
that he's inflated merchandise.

Inflated merchandise
can be found anywhere.

So what is this? An abstinence crisis?

Sure, you're such a macho man.

So macho that if you don't polish
your knob every day,

you get a headache.

Underneath,
you're all a bunch of sugar plums.

Sugar plums?

Yes. Sugar plums. Fags.

- Fags?
- Yes.

You understand perfectly.

Listen, female...

watch what you say to me.

You can't say that to someone whose mother
gave him life on a hearthstone.

Not that old chestnut. That's old.

Like hell it is.
We didn't even have a bed to sleep in.

When I was 11,

I put a bullet through the head
of a bitch like you,

just to get respect.

What an asshole.

Not more shit about honor.

Such behavior is caused
by ill manners and laziness.

Instead of playing with guns,
why can't you learn to...

I don't know... make mozzarella?

Mozzarella?

In ten, 15 years,

you could compete with the best:
Galbani, Invernizzi, Locatelli...

And you could be here too,
on your yacht off the Sardinian coast.

But no. Of course not.

Because people like you
don't believe in work.

You made money by exploiting
those who do believe in work.

The shotgun, if you have balls, is pure.

With a shotgun,
you only take money from the rich.

Yes, sure. Wonderful.

The rich are bastards, criminals,
exploiters and murderers.

Enough with those stupid clichés.

The rich are the only hope
in this country.

They always have been.

If there were no rich,
Italy would not be what it is.

No Venice, Florence, Rome,

the royal palace in Caserta,
and all of the other things of beauty.

God bless the old, provincial nobility.

They worked hard to maintain their image.

- They worked hard!
- What the fuck are you saying?

For years, people listened to that shit.
My crusade is to reestablish the truth.

Right-wing bitch.

Left-wing prick. I'm making a revolution.

This will be a true class war.

Maybe not exactly,
“Rich people of the world, unite!”

But more or less.

What are you saying?

You deserve a hard-core Soviet system,

where you'd get sent to Siberia
for stealing an apple.

And you know who would send you?

Those who are rich today.

So you say. And why?

Because...

Because rich people are intelligent,
organized entrepreneurs,

my dear, little Sicilian,
and they would be in command.

- Shithead!
- Look who's talking.

If Stalin had opened an appliance factory,

and Lenin, a hotel chain,

you can bet they'd be billionaires.

They didn't trust in themselves or work.

So they settled for a revolution.

What fucking crap!

It's true. Resign yourself.

We're rich because we're better,
and that's that.

You think I was born with a bank account?

I delivered packages when I was 12.

And, if now, I am what I am...

- And who are you?
- I am the one who sticks it up your ass!

Get it? Up your ass!

Ah, congratulations.

Hey, Miss High-Class,

how is it possible
that a classy dame like you

talks about pricks and asses?

Perhaps you're interested...

or am I wrong?

Signora, I must say,

every day you're a little more fickle.

How is it possible
that you now prefer cheese and wine

to champagne and caviar?

Why are you so surprised?

Sometimes bandits are right.

Please, join me.

This cheese is delicious.
It tastes of milk,

of clean nature.

- Taste it.
- No, thank you.

I prefer caviar and champagne.

Signora, if I may...

A lady like you,

shouldn't get too close
to one like Giuseppe Catania.

- And why not, please?
- Why not?

As you saw, he loses respect.

No, on the contrary,
it's a unique opportunity to know...

such an interesting animal.

There's always something to learn,
my dear CIA super spy.

With so many failed blitzes,
you could learn something too.

Why are you so upset?

The lady is a lady.

She breaks my balls and scrambles them.

The criminal is interesting, and I...

After so many years together,
may I say something?

- No. It would be crap.
- I'll say it anyhow.

You care way too much about the signora.

I even heard you singing “Feelings.”

- I think you're falling for...
- Shut up.

- I forbid you to say it.
- No.

I won't say a thing.

- But you're falling in love.
- Another word and you're fired.

It's a love that's worse
than a cat in spring.

I'm not coming to Geneva.

No, solve it yourselves.

I'm tired.

I need a few days of rest.

I left orders with Mrs. Bonetti.

She's perfectly capable.

Those poor men staged a real union
protest, complete with a hunger strike.

Jealousy is an ugly thing.

Those guys would go in wearing jeans,
and come out in miniskirts.

Hey, boss.

It's not funny, signora.
These headaches are terrible.

Oh, you're here.

Do you know our prisoner's
complaining about the treatment?

- Really?
- Yes.

He says that even the state prisons
recognize sex as a basic need.

They allow women every 20 days.

Wives, girlfriends and other birds.

He needs to relieve that famous headache.

Wonderful. We'll get him a chicken.

Or maybe a beautiful goat or sheep.

After all, he's from a race of shepherds.

Go get yourself a sheep,
you Sicilian shit.

Calm down.

He was joking.

But just so you won't say
that I'm worse than the state,

you'll have your fill.

Maybe a belly dancer,
some means of comfort.

We take care of our prisoners personally.

Yes.

You should know by now
that we are much classier here.

Signora, why don't you come to me?

Me? To you?

I am the master race, young man,
and I don't socialize with menials.

We'll take care of you later.

Shithead.

Signora, remember,
every promise is a debt.

Signora!

Listen, I hope you were joking
about this means of comfort.

- Rule number one: no whores.
- And why not?

Tomorrow night we'll find him two girls.

Signora, absolutely not.

Please,
you are giving him too many bad habits.

This isn't done.

Caviar and champagne aren't enough?

Where will it stop? Now women too?

Besides, who would come here to do it?

Chorus girls? Hookers?

Do we want some hooker talking about us?

Women are only trouble...

That's not going to fly.

Let's do it this way:

You plan a beautiful weekend
for yourself and your assistant.

I'll take full responsibility here, okay?

What is your name?

Speak German?

Do you possibly speak Sicilian?

- Gibberish?
- Yes.

I don't have a prayer.

That son of a bitch up there.

He's getting all this bounty
on a silver platter.

In my next life, I'll be a bandit,
I swear.

A summer night with a Greek profile

Almond-shaped eyes
And the perfume of basil

An Arabian moon, a pirate's fable

An ache in the head

Sweet poison like this

Once it covers you

Can never be washed away

And you

However much you try to escape

You'll never escape

Turi.

Come out.

What are you doing here? Are you hiding?

I thought I told you to leave.

Go.

Why the sad puppy eyes?

Go. That's an order.

Really, you're very clingy, you know?

Once it covers you

It can never be washed away

In the blue night

Never washed away

Never washed away

I hate classical music!

Change the channel!

It makes my balls twist!

Enough.

What is this perfume?

That's the music I like.

Who is this?

Beautiful laughter...

the perfume of a pretty girl.

The wonderful flavor of God's gifts.

What beautiful little chickens.

Tonight I get rid of my headache.

What a beautiful surprise.

A beautiful surprise.

How many are there?

Two, three, four?

I'm in paradise.

She's crazy.

Crazy or worse.

Boss, if the signora finds us spying,
she'll be a viper.

She said no witnesses.

Let's go!

Risks.

She risks everything.

Oh, she's crazy.

Crazy or worse.

You like to watch
and twist your guts over her?

What's happened to you?
You were a professional.

She's crazy or worse.

Would worse mean “whore”?

Hey, if I don't say it,
don't you dare say it.

She's not crazy, not a whore.

She's rich.

She's an ecologist...

who wants to cleanse the world of shit.

But then she plays in shit.

And we,

the defenders of the capitalists,
are ignored.

She's interested in this rat fink.

And he's not even poor.

He's richer than she is.

A thief, but a rich one.
Never mind the environment.

You're right.

How can I be so obsessed?

I couldn't stand her at first.

And now, I'm the asshole.

Love.

If anything, a passing fancy.

What are they doing?

What are they doing? It's gone dark.

Drink, boss. It's your favorite.

She's rich, you see.
The rich have all kinds of quirks.

If she's not down here in five minutes,
I'll make a scene!

One, two and three.

So there are three?

No, come here. Where are you going?

The chain is caught. Don't go.

Come, you.

Yes, I want you.

In the midst of this glorious feast,
is the one I want here or not?

You're the one who pulls away...

and it's you I want.

Be still...

Now what?

Good-bye.

I know it's you.

Even if it's not you, for me, it's you.

And now [I'll show you.

Silky soft,
sweet as a date dipped in honey.

Even so, it's you.

Yes, it's you.

I know.

I've waited a long time.

It's you.

Or are you a paid whore
who doesn't understand me?

Who took a few lira to get fucked by me?

It's you.

You gigantic whore.

You acted so superior.

You don't speak now?

Is it you, the right-wing madam whore

or is your flesh bought and paid for,

screwing for the signora's money?

Tell me who you are, you dirty whore.

Tell me who you are.

I'll show you what it's like to be female.

What kind of whore are you?

Speak.

Is it you?

Speak! I'm going to break you.

No. Be quiet. Quiet, quiet.

Quiet.

To me, you are “her.”

You are her.

Drink, boss.

As they say in Minneapolis,

“Women make asses of us all.”

I'm going to kill myself.

Of all the women on earth,

I had to fixate on this shark
of a millionaire.

Although I thought, when she insulted me,

when she called me a shit,

I believed she had feelings for me.

I can't think about it.

I can't even think about it.

So don't think, boss.

Think of something else.
Let nature take its course.

Look, geishas, belly dancers.

Are we going to let God's gift
go to waste?

Come on, boss.

When the boss is a woman,
you can expect anything.

Look at them.

- Look, first-class merchandise.
- Stop it.

They're waiting for us.

Boss, with all due respect...

How beautiful you are.

Big, beautiful, quality fuck.

Or should I say “love”?

Little nose.

Peach face.

Silk hair.

Now I understand why they say
the blind are good lovers.

Such an exciting mystery game.

You're sighing.

You liked it too.

You're burning up, as if you had a fever.

You're shaking beneath my hand.

Come here.

We'll begin again.

Yes, signora, yes.

Because this beast wants you again.

Because he likes you.

Unexpected, wicked, filthy love

A nicotine-black beard

Jungle lacquer red of your nails

Sweet poison like this

Once it covers you

It can never be washed away

And you

However much you try to escape

You'll never escape

You'll never, never escape

What are you doing?

Running away?

Run, run.
You can't run far enough to escape me.

Sweet poison like this,
when it covers you,

it can never be washed away.

Run. Good night, filthy whore.

My love.

- Turi, is that you there?
- Signora.

Yes?

- l thought it a good idea...
- What's this?

That's disgusting, Turi. It's gross!

Signora, kidnapping has its rules.

And the rules include being gross?

I's my duty.

At this stage, I need a finger.

But why?

Tribal stupidity makes me vomit.

It's clean.

It was cut off yesterday
in a motorcycle accident.

You know where to put that.

Signora...

What are you looking at? I'd have said,
“Up your ass” if I wanted to.

Put it in the freezer.

Why are you looking at me like that?

Because you look very different
this morning.

Beautiful. Luminescent.

You upset me.

I upset you?

You're a real ball breaker.

Put that thing away. We have time.

Sure. The lady's having a good time.

- Excuse me?
- Aren't you having a good time?

Sure. I'm having a good time. Why not?

It's my right. Am I not the boss?

Absolutely.

Stop looking at me like that.

Put that thing in the freezer.

The one in my boudoir, not in the kitchen.

My servants will have a heart attack.

They're poor, exploited,
homesick and black.

They don't need you and your finger.

A Turkish moon is passing

No, this moon is Hawaiian

But no

This is the moon

Of Shanghai

Dance with me, my love

Sway with me, like this

The moon of Shanghai

Adventure, palms and pearls

And who knows?

A pirate with a gold earring

What beautiful rhythm

Full of coincidences

Special

Life, in the end

Is not so romantic

But a scarf over the lamp

Can help

There's a poster on the wall

With palms and sea

Of green and blue

Dance, my love, dance

Move your hips

This Shanghai moon is for us

Turi, you look as if you've had a stroke.

Victory! They're ready to deal.

- Really?
- Yes.

They're ready to talk. Do we deal?

So, bandit.

Am I disturbing you?

So you're back.

Your people contacted us.
They want to deal.

Oh, yes? And you?

I told you, we're in no hurry.

I think middlemen cause confusion.

Let's you and I deal, okay?

Take off the blindfold.

Are you crazy, you bandit?

Only I know the real you.

All right then, if you know me so well,
what do you propose?

I don't know who you are...

but I like you.

I don't know what you want from me,
but then, maybe I do.

Come here and set me free.

And what did you drink today?

You look drunk.

So I look drunk?

So you're turning a deaf ear.

What a shame. That's your good ear.

So, you tell me...

Excuse me, what?

No, you tell me.

100 million. Do we have a deal or not?

That's my fucking business.

Oh, lovely.

But before we start cutting you in pieces,

how much can you pay in cash?

You like money that much?

No, but its value is solid and precise.

You know that very well, you bandit.

Yes, signora. Yes, I understand.

You want satisfaction.
And I want to give it to you.

Fifty percent now, okay?

And the rest?

And the rest in six months.

But only on one condition:

You trust me and set me free now.

Not on your life. I wouldn't dream of it.

You're delirious.

Well...

is it because you don't trust me,
or because you want to keep me here?

Tell the truth.

You liked it.

What do you mean?

You're drunk and delirious.

I'll stay here.

Listen to him.
Okay, let's get this over with.

Fifty percent now
and the rest in six months.

No more discussion.

Fine, fine.

So, where I'm from,
agreements are made with a handshake.

Are you scared? Come here.

I am an honorable man.

Let go, traitor!

Yes, yes, it's you.

I recognize your body. I'm sure of it.

You're hot and shaking against me
like last night.

I'll make you pay for this.

Quiet, idiot.

Don't pretend you're an angry wildcat.

I know better.

Now everything's changed between us.

I like you.

Why don't you send everybody away
and come away with me?

Come with me. We're special.

What do you want? Money?

I can cover you with it.

- All the gold you want.
- You're crazy.

You're completely crazy.

They'll shoot you with tear gas right now.

I'll scream for the police right now.

What the fuck am I saying?
I'm delirious. They'll arrest me.

I don't give a fuck.

I don't give a fuck.

I want you.

Leave now, but come back to me tonight.

Understand?

And remember, I don't like to wait.

- You're crazy.
- Yes.

Really crazy. You're completely crazy.

- Come.
- Absolutely crazy.

Crazy.

Really crazy.

Run, run.

Boss! Boss!

The signora's angry as hell and agitated.

Why not? She asked for it, and she got it.

I want to understand
this five-star general,

this high-finance shark.

Because if we have a general,
I'll be a good soldier.

But if she's a bitch in heat,

and she thinks I'll stay here
to clean her dirty sheets,

then she doesn't know
who Salvatore Cantalamessa is.

Never mind the money.
She can go fuck herself!

Yes, signora! I'm coming!

I'm coming!

Here I am!

It's you.

- Yes, it's you.
- Yes, sir, it's me.

Were you expecting someone else?

Certainly not you.

What a beautiful surprise, no?

And that's not all.

You're in luck, thief.

The signora has accepted your offer.

Fifty percent in Switzerland
and the rest in six months.

But that's not all.

I don't know why,
but someone here trusts you.

I don't. 'm against it.

But the boss has decided...

She's setting you free,
trusting your word of honor.

Oh, really?

So you think I'm some clerk
who buys a TV on the installment plan?

No. I don't need discounts. No 50%.

Tell the signora
she'll have the full amount in four days.

Tell her that she doesn't understand
who Beppe Catania is.

So, partners, please.

Come here.

Let's begin.

My dear friends, I did it.

Our 100 million has been recovered

and deposited into the Bank of Geneva.

The honor of the ruling class is saved.

A toast.

Cheers!

Well done. And it took a woman to do it.

What woman? She's a brigadier general.

General or not, you handled this business
better than any man.

You were fabulous. We never knew anything.

You took all of the responsibility.

First-class work.

We've decided to give you 20%.

What do you mean?

We understand
it was a matter of principle,

but you must accept the 20%.

Oh, no. Fifty percent, my dears.

Fifty percent.

- What?
- Fifty.

Fifty percent?

Why do you sound so surprised?

I did it all:
the risk, the organization, the idea.

Excuse me, but you agreed to accept 50%.

I got 100%, so 50% is rightfully mine.

Yes. Absolutely. Well done.

She's right. She earned it.

It was her initiative.

Anyway, you've recovered 50%.

It's still a good deal.

Excuse me, excuse me.

As far as I'm concerned, she's right.

Hello?

Wonderful.

No, Frederick. I don't know...

I'm in a meeting. Maybe later...

Fine, I'll call you next week.

Yes, I'll call you.

Good-bye, my love. Wonderful.

A wonderful success, signora,
even from a personal point of view.

Excuse me?

He paid, signora,
in order to teach you a lesson.

He wanted to slap his money in my face.

Like that line in La fraviata.

Yes, but it would have been better
if you had not gone that night.

Are you kidding?

That's the beauty of it.

I was the most highly paid whore
in history.

Yes, from that standpoint,
you have my compliments.

You inspire all of us to pay you tribute,

to give you gifts,
worthy of princes or oil sheikhs.

Yes,
it's a shame that discretion forbids us

to publicize a tribute of 100 million.

You are fantastic. Really fantastic.

Everyone falls in love with you.

Signora, I have to say it. Me too.

I finally found the courage to confess.

You're kind, sweet and gallant.

Actually, it was fun.

- I'm just sorry it's over.
- Over?

So you think this is the end of the story?

What are you doing?

Turi, he's taking the car.

- We're coming!
- Just a minute.

- We'll move it.
- We'll move it right away.

Unhook that thing. We're inside now.

This is insane.

What is he doing? Turi, do something.

Hey! Listen... I'm talking to you.

Look here!

You're holding me against my will.

This is abduction!
I'm going to report you for kidnapping.

Take off their hoods.

I want to finally see the famous signora.

Not bad.

What?

You're lucky.

What if I didn't like you?

Hold still.

Bandit, what do you want from me?

200 million.

Excuse me?

To start.

And then...

the rest.

Dear God.

How romantic, Beppe.

Excuse me,
but this horse seems a little nervous.

Wait, do you really know how to ride?

If not, it wasn't practical to kidnap me
with a horse.

A motorcycle would have been
more practical.

I knew it!

And I'm an idiot for trusting you.

Why should a Sicilian criminal
ride like an English lord?

You're buffoons, that's what you are.

Half-assedness is the ruination
of our country.

So in addition to being a criminal,

now you want to be romantic.

Learn how to ride a horse.

Yet another thing I could teach you.

I take my work seriously.

You're lost in the memories
of ancient grandeur.

Do me a favor. Learn to do things right.

I swear, I'll never trust another person.

Especially a Sicilian bandit.