Original subtitles

Postcards of Ischia, here.

-Does the young lady need a hotel? -No, thank you.

Fresh outta the oven! Taralli!

-Miss, would you like a tarallo? -No, thank you.

Excuse me, the bus for Barano?

Over there, miss.

-Thank you. -You're welcome.

Good morning.

You're Elena?

So pretty, come in.

You sleep here.

At night you make up your bed and put it all away in the morning:

the board, the frame, the mattress.

I do the same at home.

That's the bathroom and that's my room.

And that's the terrace.

You like the sea, huh?

With this light, it never lets you feel sad.

Right, kid, let's be clear.

I can see you're a good girl and you'll like it here, but you have to work.

Tell me what to do and I'll do it.

There's no one there yet, it's vacant.

Here there's some English people, they're at the beach now.

Look at that.

So, you set your alarm for sixty-thirty in the morning

to make breakfast for me and the guests.

Then you clear it all away, wash the cups, the bowls.

In the evening, you set the table out here for dinner

and then you do the dishes before going to bed.

The rest of the day, you do what you want.

Now give me a hand fixing up the English people's room,

I'll show you the closet where I keep the linen.

With all the fears my mother had instilled in me

and with all the body issues I had,

I spent my time on the terrace, fully dressed,

writing Lila a letter every day,

each one brimming with questions, witticisms,

overly enthusiastic descriptions of the island.

Still here?

I'm writing a letter.

You're always writing letters. Don't tell me you've got a sweetheart?

No, what sweetheart! I'm writing to a girlfriend.

Good, you're too young, you've plenty of time for boyfriends.

Why don't you put on your swimsuit? Aren't you hot?

No, I'm fine.

Put on your swimsuit.

Go on, go to the beach.

So I did know how to swim.

My mother really had taken me to the seaside as a child

and it was really there, while she took sand baths, that I learned.

I wondered how you could live in a city like Naples

and never think, not even once, of swimming in the sea.

They're leaving, do you want to come and say goodbye?

Yes, I'll be right there.

What a lovely surprise.

Bye, Isabel.

Bye, Elena.

Those children really grew fond of you.

You're a good girl, and look what a beauty you are!

-Good morning, Nella. -Good morning, Giuseppe.

Always waiting for letters.

Let's get to work.

Lila never replied to my letters,

her silence demonstrated that my life was splendid

but low on events,

to the extent I had time to write to her every day.

Whereas hers was gloomy, but crowded.

It's a family from Naples, very respectable,

with a grown son, a fine, tall boy, thin but strong.

If I'm not wrong, this year he will be 17.

You won't be alone anymore.

You can't imagine how kind his father is, a true gentleman,

not like the men you see around today.

Respectful, likeable,

always friendly.

If you only knew what he gave me last year.

I'll show it to you.

"Proof of calm", there's even a dedication.

"To Nella, who is a sweetie, and to her jams."

I keep it on my nightstand and every evening I read a poem,

first in my head and then out loud.

I know them all by heart now.

They're very respectable people, the Sarratores.

-Nella! -I'm so pleased to see you!

Hello, sweetheart!

-How are you? -Elena?

This year there are quite a few people, thank goodness.

But I have to take you to Casamicciola or to Forio.

Nothing happens here at night, we'll have fun there.

I know all about you, you know.

You're going steady with Gino the pharmacist, you go to high school,

you're really good at school.

-Who told you? -My brother.

-You've seen him at school, haven't you? -I've seen him.

I was convinced he hadn't seen me.

I haven't seen Gino for ages,

your brother's not very well informed.

It's already a lot that he spoke about you, he's always got his nose in a book.

Always with his mind somewhere else.

He's not coming?

He'll come when Papa leaves.

-Why? -He can't stand him.

Mamma and I were out dancing.

We were out dancing.

At a certain point, there was this noise.

Stop it!

It was a fart!

-What are you saying? -She turned all red.

How does it go, Nella: if it's jolly fart...?

Really, come on! At the table?

All right, enough, I won't say it.

Damn it...

You're already working?

Papa, what are you talking about? Elena goes to Nino's school.

-Really? -Classical high school?

-Well done. -I'm impressed.

This news cheers me up.

Good girl, you've done the right thing staying in school.

-Pinuccio, did you like the pasta? -I sure did!

Do we want to compliment our hostess?

Dinner was delicious.

The house is always clean and cozy and you're so warm and friendly.

Knock it off, will you?

-It's the truth. -Papa...

Leave Papa in peace, he's eating.

-No, I've finished. What is it? -I made a cake.

He made a cake.

Don't bother, I'll do it.

You'll do it?

Thank you.

Come on, girls, come on!

Come on!

Move. Elena, you need to do smoother strokes.

So you gather the water and don't push it away, okay?

Come on.

Move!

You can do it!

Move!

If there's no harmony in the movement,

if you lie on the water and don't go in, your muscles feel heavy.

-Why do you make it so complicated? -Elena understands me.

She goes to school, she understands words.

You're right, I'm tired now.

You know what we'll do for our breathing and muscle tone?

-No. -A nice run.

But we've already swum!

Come on, healthy mind healthy body!

The last ten days of July

gave me a sense of wellbeing I'd never known till then.

I felt a sensation that has often reoccurred in my life,

the joy of the new.

See you, darling.

When we get back we'll have a hearty meal.

-I wonder what Nella's cooked. -Stuffed peppers!

Come on.

Move.

Papa, I'm tired, I can't go on.

Come here.

Come here.

-Up you come. -What are you doing?

I can manage.

-You good? -I was sorry the day Donato left.

Even though the house was ringing with our voices,

it seemed quiet, funereal.

The only consolation was that Nino would be coming soon.

You think I'm stupid and I don't understand anything,

but I understand everything and I see everything.

Yeah, there's a boy I like, but nothing special.

-Yeah, right... -Seriously, Mamma.

They're girls, they want to have fun.

I don't know what you're on about.

It's Nino!

You coming to greet your brother?

-Hi, Nino! -Hi, Ma.

-How was the trip? -Endless.

Come in, we were waiting for you.

Hello, Signora Nella.

My, how you've grown! You're the same as your father.

Handsome, huh?

-Hi, Nino. -Hi, Marisa.

-Hi. -Hi.

-Is the move all done? -Yes, yesterday.

-You know who this is, right? -Yes. Hi, Lenù.

-How are you? -Good, you?

Good.

Don't you want to know what she's doing here?

-I'm tired, I'm going to sleep. -You don't want to eat something?

-Hi, Nino! -Hi, kid.

Your mother's right, I made something for you.

No, thank you, the bus was late, I'd like to get some rest.

-Do I have the same room? -Yes, come.

-See what a charmer? -Stop it...

I'll make your bed.

I don't know when he's coming, nor how to find him.

He went to the beach with friends and said he'd come to Ischia later.

What should I do?

Elena, are you listening to me?

If you left him your address, he'll write to you.

Look, the young master has risen!

Marisa! Come take a look.

Good morning. Have you eaten?

Yeah, I'm going for a swim.

-What are you reading? -"The Brothers Karamazov."

And you?

"Bel Ami" by Maupassant.

It's really good, I read it a few years ago.

What's yours about?

It's about three brothers and a murdered father.

At a certain point, they accuse Dmitri, the eldest son.

-Of killing the father? -Yes, they arrest him.

They're all shocked,

but since he was arrested he might be guilty, who can say he's not?

So, he's put on trial

and that's the best part of the book.

How do you know? You're still reading it.

I'm rereading it. During the trial,

each time, the person speaking convinces you they know the truth.

They explain why Dmitri's innocent,

and you say he is innocent beyond a doubt.

Then you hear his accuser, they explain why,

they explain why he's guilty.

And you say without a doubt that he killed his father.

Each time someone gives an explanation,

it is incontrovertible...

Who gives a crap about this Karamazov guy?

I'm going for a walk.

Boy, is he boring.

Let's take a dip.

Papa?

What's he doing here? He's not due till tomorrow.

Papa!

You've no idea how unbearable Naples is at the moment.

There's no one there and it's stifling even at night.

What do you do in the evenings? Do you go out for a walk?

Me?

Where would I go? I'm counting the days one by one.

I can't wait for the August 13 so I can stay here longer.

I want to go for a thousand swims.

But you're already leaving tomorrow.

I have to work,

or else who'll pay for their vacation?

Mamma, remember I have to leave on the 13th.

The 13th, really? I'm sorry to hear that.

I've got plans with my friends,

we're going to this guy's house in Avellino, to do assignments.

Can't you go after the 15th?

It's all organized.

Let him go, he has to study.

Good boy, you're lucky to go to school.

I only did a couple of years of trade school,

then my father said: "Enough, now you have to bring money home."

If I'd been able to stay in school like you, who knows where I'd be.

But I'm not complaining, I've had my satisfactions.

And then there are those you'll give me.

Good boy, study. And do everything I wasn't able to.

I'll take you for ice cream, if you like.

-Yes. -I'll be ready in a minute.

-Can I go too? -Nino, take him.

-Then I'm coming too. -You're too little.

Neither of you are going.

When Papa returns mid-August,

we'll have a nice party on the beach the way we like it.

Aren't you Marisa Sarratore?

-Do I know you? -I'm a classmate of Loredana's.

Loredana's at the Patria Bar, she heard you were in Ischia.

Do you want to come, too?

-Can I go? -No, we gotta go.

We're going, she can join us later.

-See you later. -Nino, please, they're all really nice

and there's this boy I really like.

Elena's coming too.

No, sorry, I don't feel like it. I'll wait for you here.

Go for a walk, then, talk about your stuff.

-Come get me at 10:30. -All right.

Thanks.

-You're very open-minded with her. -What do you mean?

At home, my friends aren't like that with their sisters.

I remember the neighborhood very well,

I was jealous of your friendship with Lila.

I'd see you two together, always talking.

I wanted to make friends with you but I never had the courage.

Do you remember the declaration I made to you?

Yes.

I liked you a lot.

Thank you.

I thought we'd get engaged and be together forever.

All three of us, me, you and your friend.

All three?

Obviously, I didn't know much about being engaged.

Is she still in school?

-You mean, Lila? -Yes.

-No, she's stopped. -What's she doing?

Helping her parents.

She was really smart.

You couldn't keep up with her.

She'd make my mind blur.

That's exactly the way he put it: "She'd make my mind blur."

And I suffered keenly,

I felt a pang in the middle of my chest.

After that conversation, I stopped writing to Lila,

she never replied anyway,

and I dedicated myself to looking after Nino.

I waited for him, I went down to the beach with him,

I prepared his things, I brought them to him.

In short, I loved him and I was content to love him.

But August 13 was approaching

and Nino would soon be leaving.

This stinks like your feet, Ciro!

Leave him be, he's little. He'll hurt himself.

I'm ready, let's go. What are you doing?

Nino, will you come with us?

I already said no.

-Come on, please. -No.

Want to take a walk on the beach?

My friends are expecting me at the port.

-There's a beautiful moon. -Can I go by myself?

No.

-Please, Nino! -I can take her.

What are you talking about?

Papa will take us to make a bonfire on the beach like he promised.

-Empty promises. -Nino, give it a rest about your dad.

Always irritable, lacking respect.

Respect? Poor you, Mamma!

-Enough, Ciro! -Well?

Why don't we go to the beach?

Let's go, Marisa.

Bye.

You're not going?

I'd rather not.

I didn't understand what I was, who I was.

Why didn't Nino want me, why didn't he look at me?

What signs was I carrying, what destiny?

I thought of the neighborhood as a vortex

and any attempt to climb out would be delusional.

I have to go and pick up Marisa in an hour.

I'm going to dedicate my life to not becoming like my father.

He's a nice man.

Everybody says so.

So?

How's Melina?

How do you think?

Like that.

He was her lover.

He knew perfectly well she was a fragile woman,

but he took her anyway.

Out of pure vanity.

Out of vanity he'd hurt anyone without feeling responsible for it.

Because he's convinced he makes everyone happy,

he thinks he should be forgiven for everything.

But that's not how it is.

He goes to Mass every Sunday, treats us kids well,

he's always considerate with my mother,

but he betrays her all the time.

He's a hypocrite.

He disgusts me.

He and Melina were swept away by passion.

Like Dido and Aeneas.

They're things that hurt, but they're also moving.

You can't understand.

Wait!

I understand you.

I'm leaving tomorrow.

But tomorrow isn't the13th.

We walked back up to Barano talking about books,

then we went to pick up Marisa at the port.

I could still feel his mouth on mine.

I cried all night.

Lenuccia!

Lenù.

Nino had to eat breakfast on the terrace so as not to disturb you.

I'm sorry, Nella.

I must have fallen asleep late.

Maybe you'll make it before the ferry leaves.

-I don't understand. -He's gone.

What do you mean?

He's left.

Move! You can still make it.

Run, go on!

No!

Then Donato came back, his presence reassured me.

It was a solid remedy not only against his son,

who had left after an imperceptible kiss,

but also against Lila, who continued to not reply to my letters.

How wonderful!

What are you reading?

"Great Expectations."

-Do you know it? -Yes.

What's wrong?

-I'm sleepy. -You're sleepy?

After all you've done?

It's normal. Come on, enough now.

This is an intelligent article about Naples being empty in August.

Listen to how it ends.

"That is to say that as the summer heat is prolonged

and the city is left as empty as the pores of its renowned grottoes

for those who also love its subterranean life,

the vitality of its people re-emerges, scattered along the coasts,

even more renowned than the gulfs that embrace it."

Did you like it?

Yes, very much.

And look who wrote it.

Read there.

Donato Sarratore?

Congratulations.

It's nothing, really.

Donato, he's fallen asleep.

Help me move him.

It's hot, shall we go in?

-I just came out. -I'm going, I'm dying.

I wrote one last letter to Lila

where I said, seeing as she hadn't replied, I wouldn't write anymore.

Then, at the end of August, when that extraordinary period was about to end,

two important things happened at once.

"Take me, life,

to gaze upon the wild western stars..."

Wild western.

Let's go to the beach.

"I do not fear the furor of your motion..."

Shall we go to Casamicciola today?

Because that's where your friends are, right?

What are you talking about? Anyway, that's not why I said it.

You can't pull the wool over my eyes.

I wrote that here, I was inspired here.

Donato, she wants to go to Casamicciola.

No, Casamicciola is too open.

Let's change beach.

-I know why you want to change. -Why's that?

Elena, what do you say?

Today I turn 15.

-And you say it like that? -That's big news!

Many happy returns!

Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?

Happy birthday!

-It's not important. -Fifteen is very important indeed!

You're a good girl, Lenù.

And you're polite.

Tonight, we'll celebrate.

We'll have a lovely party on the beach.

You're always thinking about yourself.

The beach at night wasn't good for Ciro.

We'll have a party at home, tonight we'll help you cook.

Yes, I'll make a nice fruit tart.

Come on, it's getting late.

Ciro, your shoes.

Leave it, it's your birthday, you don't need to do anything.

No, I'll do it, it's my job.

What a good girl.

Greco!

Greco!

Is there a Greco here?

I'm Greco.

It's you? There's a letter.

Here you are.

-Thank you. -You're welcome.

-Why haven't you changed? -Aren't you coming?

No, I'm not coming to the beach today. Maybe later.

-What, you're not coming? -How disappointing.

I have things to do.

-But we'll celebrate tonight. -Yes.

-Let's go. -Bye, Lenù.

See you later, congratulations again.

Bye.

Are you sad?

Lila's voice, set in writing, swept me away, enraptured me.

I wasn't able to reply to her letter.

I was ashamed of the childish pages I had written,

of the excessive tones, the frivolity, the false mirth,

the false pain.

That letter's initial effect was to make me feel,

on my fifteenth birthday,

like a fraud.

Lila had sent me birthday wishes,

she hadn't written back because she was content knowing I was at the beach.

She was happy I loved Nino

and she didn't want to ruin my vacation with her horrible stories.

Have a chocolate.

Thank you.

Lila.

-No. -They're good.

-Just one, to be polite. -I don't want it.

-Who is it at this hour? -How should I know?

Don't worry, I'll go.

-Come in. -Good evening.

In there.

Good evening.

Signora, let's make room here.

Put it in the center.

Put it here.

Do you like it?

-It's too much. -No, it's not.

It's for you, Lila.

Do you like it?

She didn't know how to get out of, she was terrified.

Marcello was actually a good catch,

but the good smacked of bad

and the bad smacked of good,

a blend that took the breath away.

Eight men, two cars and you call that bad luck?

-Call the men who were in the cars. -Sure!

No, hang on, they're all out on that search.

Thank Marcello, look what he brought you.

-What nice cakes! -There's spumante.

Spumante? What are we celebrating?

I have something for Lila.

It belonged to my grandmother, then Papa gave it to Mamma

and now I'd be happy if you wore it.

Do you like it?

-It's beautiful. -Do you like it?

It's gorgeous, thank you.

It's gorgeous.

-It's fantastic. -A toast!

Hand me the glasses, today we have to celebrate.

Some for Lila, too, just a drop.

There you are.

-Cheers! -Cheers, everybody!

-Thank you, Marcello. -Lila, you toast, too.

Marcello?

What's wrong? Don't you like it?

You know what's wrong, I don't want your ring.

It's a gift, it's not polite to refuse a gift.

Then let's be rude.

No, Lila...

you're not rude,

you're a bitch, a prize bitch.

You need to watch out, you're testing my patience.

But sooner or later my patience will run out

and I'll make you pay for all these insults.

I'll make you pay.

I'll make you pay.

Lila?

He's such a nice boy, I'm happy.

What's the matter?

And the ring?

I gave it back, I don't want him.

Don't joke.

Who's joking? I'll never marry him.

-What did you say? -You heard me.

That's enough now, don't make him angry.

No, it has to be clear: I'm not marrying him.

Lila, you accepted the ring, you'll marry him.

Again? I told you I gave it back.

-You'll do what I tell you. -No!

Go to bed, we'll discuss it tomorrow.

There's nothing to discuss.

You'll marry him because I say so, it's decided.

That's enough.

You've decided everything.

If Lila doesn't want a blockhead like Marcello, she has a right to say no.

You can't force her.

Who asked for your fucking opinion? Shut up.

If you give her to him, know what I'll do? I'll burn everything.

The shoe store, this fucking house and everything in it.

I swear I will.

What will you do, you little shit?

-Say it again. -You heard me.

I'll burn everything, I'm not letting Lila marry Marcello.

Show me how!

I'm not letting her marry him.

I want you, I think of you

I call you

I see you, I hear you

I dream of you

It's been a year, just think

It's been a year since these eyes

Have not found the peace

They yearn

-Lovely. -Yes, lovely.

It's time, shall we turn in?

No, Mamma, one more.

-But it's late. -Listen...

I want to thank you for all this,

but there's something else I want to say.

This morning I received a letter from a friend who needs me

and I think I'll be leaving earlier than planned.

What, earlier? When?

If I can, the day after tomorrow.

What? You want to leave me like this, kid?

I have to go.

I really do, it's necessary.

Who's going to tell Ciro?

We'll really miss you.

You can't leave earlier, it'll work itself out.

When you're far away problems seem bigger.

She needs me.

But we need you, too.

-Papa's right. -Thank you.

It was this kind of thing that frightened her.

On the copper pot, not by chance, four years earlier

she had placed the blood that squirted from Don Achille's neck

when he was stabbed.

There she channeled her current feeling of menace,

of anguish, about the choice she was facing,

blasting one of them as a signal.

She wrote to me saying even though she wished the opposite,

even though she couldn't wait to see me,

she wished I would stay in Ischia and never return to the neighborhood.

Don't pretend to be asleep.

I know you're awake.

Yes.

Don't think about your friend, stay here.

She's having a hard time, she needs me.

But I need you.

Tomorrow night, you and I will go for a nice walk on the beach.

I'm so fond of you and I know

you're very fond of me too, aren't you?

Good night.

As much as it may seem unlikely today,

for as long as I could remember until that evening,

I had never given myself pleasure, I didn't know it

and to feel it in me took me by surprise.

But I knew immediately that my disgust for Sarratore

and the revulsion I felt for myself

would have stopped me from saying anything.

In fact, this is the first time in my whole life

that I have sought words to describe that unexpected end to my vacation.