Original subtitles

So it's my fault this guy wants an extra 15,000?

- Where will we get it? - Relax, we'll ask for our deposit back.

I'm sick of scooting into town to do lessons here and there!

- What d'you think I do? - I'm sick of making do.

You're a mediocre person, Oreste. Without ambition, get lost!

THE PRIZE

- Mr Oreste! - Hi, Rinaldo!

Good morning.

- Long time, no see. - I know.

The suitcases, are you leaving... is it a bad time?

- Is it for the Prize? - Yes.

In about 15 minutes we'll cast off, if you'll allow the metaphor.

I will...

- I won't bother you for long. - Please, come in.

May I...

I wanted to know if it'd be possible to have the keys to the Prati office.

For a few days. I'm having problems with my wife, I hope to resolve them.

- That's if the office still exists... - Yes, it does.

But at the moment it's occupied by...

how can we say... Miss Enora's "installations".

Are these the installations? I didn't realise.

Yes. She loves to wrap things up.

We're full to the brim so we've spilled over into the Prati office.

- Wasn't she a singer? - No.

The singer was called Beatrice and that was in 2015.

Miss Enora is a Breton conceptual artist.

- British? - Northern France.

Right. Well, I was close. I'll find somewhere else to stay, thanks.

No, Mr Oreste! You can stay in one of the guest rooms.

- Lorna! - Leave it.

I've never stayed here. I don't like to be...

It's no problem! The house is empty, we're going away.

Lorna, show Mr Oreste to one of the guest rooms.

Okay.

This whining goes on all day long.

Your father loves it.

I can't take you, I have to move the suitcases.

- Can I give you a hand? - Absolutely not!

- Come on, Lorna! - Follow me.

- It's always a pleasure to see you. - Likewise.

This whining... what a fucking drag.

Hello.

My name's Enora. What's yours?

I'm Oreste, son number one.

Very interesting, very nice... what are they?

- Traces of fertility. - "Traces of fertility"?

Ah, I get it.

So you make an imprint of your belly to mark the time that passes of your...

Very nice. My compliments.

Whales are pregnant for 18 months.

We're lucky, the entire lounge wouldn't have sufficed.

Hi, dad.

Hi.

Listen, I've already asked Rinaldo.

I was wondering if I could stay here for two or three days at most,

I'm having some trouble with my wife...

seeing that you're going away.

If it doesn't bother you, I mean...

All right.

Jesus Christ!

I pulled something as I was lifting your father's suitcase, full of books.

Don't stiffen up, okay? You'll make it worse.

- I can't move. - Take some painkillers.

But I can't move!

A cramp is the body's natural reaction to prevent a worse injury.

As if it were saying: "I'll bend but I won't snap". Relax.

- Can he drive or not? - Of course, Maestro.

No, he needs to rest for a couple of days.

All right. I'll call the agency, they'll send a chauffeur.

I'm not spending a week with a stranger.

Just for once you could go by plane.

Your father doesn't fly clue to very personal ethical reasons.

What ethical reasons?

- You're just shit scared of flying. - Don't be vulgar.

When will they give you the little statue?

That's at the Oscars.

- The Nobel prize is a medal. - Like at the Olympics.

Exactly like at...

The Olympics... Why don't you drive me? I'll pay you.

I've never accepted money from you, I'm not starting now...

It's not accepting money... I'll employ you.

It's not a handout from daddy, heaven forbid.

It's a short-term, well paid job.

- You'll benefit from it too, right? - Meaning?

Weren't you opening your own gym?

With a special room for your wife's rumba classes?

- It's samba. - Samba, a sambadrome...

- What d'you say? - No.

It's uncramped, you're fine.

- Are you sure? - Yes.

How does this work?

It's dead simple, it's a fully automatic seat.

I've got it.

It has plenty of optional extras, panoramic roof, the best.

It'll be a pleasure to drive, the Nobel winner's paying.

- Did you bring the bottle? - Of course.

Riserva Ducale Oro 1988 is in your case.

Isn't Enora coming?

Is it your kid?

There's some possibility.

- Don't tell me my sister's coming! - Not as far as I know.

Miss Lucrezia wasn't invited.

- Go! - Where? I can't run her over!

At last we begin our journey to Stockholm,

don't forget the hashtag "Nobel Prize with Dad".

Who can I see? My half-brother Oreste!

In his surprise role as my father's chauffeur.

- Cut the crap. - A crude but genuine guy.

Watch what you say, I'm filming this, you jerk.

Personal trainer, married for 20 years to Barbara Flavi,

the unforgettable show girl from the 90s.

- Cut the crap. - Okay, where's Rinaldo?

There he is.

Rinaldo Zitelli...

long-serving loyal personal assistant to my father Giovanni Passamonte.

Miss Lucrezia, don't cause a delay.

What a drag!

Check out my blog: "Nobel Prize with Dad",

where you can follow every step of our journey.

Turn that thing off.

I don't remember inviting you.

- Can I have a word? - Go ahead.

In private.

What a pain in the ass!

Listen, Rinaldo...

tell me something: have these black servants been here long?

I don't remember seeing them.

No. They've recently arrived.

They're Lorna's relatives.

Your father brought them here because poor Lorna was lonely.

- Well, that's a nice thing. - Yeah, really nice.

It's just that they sing loads,

and their repertoire is decidedly repetitive.

What interests me about the news is that which doesn't make the news.

When I listen to a politician's speech I only care what colour his tie is

and why he chose that particular one instead of another.

I'm no good at writing news articles, current events make me depressed.

Let's just say that I write books about social irresponsibility.

Exactly, Maestro,

some critics claim that after all you've always written the same book.

As if I'd write books others have written...

- Thank you. Goodbye. - Thank you, Maestro. Have a good trip.

Always the same questions!

It hasn't rained for over a year.

These are the messages you've received today.

Miss Lucrezia, please. can you pass him the papers?

Can't we go any faster?

No, because there are speed cameras and this thing warns me.

- How scary! - Cut the crap!

Will you reply to the President of the Chambers and to Unesco in person?

No, you do it.

At 15:00 there's the interview with Le Moncle

and at 16:00 with the New Yorker, okay?

Yes.

The BBC radio interviewer would like to ask you some questions about Brexit.

No. Only on the Nobel Prize.

Sorry, it's my wife. Do you mind if I answer it?

Yes, Barbara, what's up?

- Where are you? - In the car with Dad and Lucrezia.

- Great company! - You're on loudspeaker.

Hi, my lovely! Where are you going?

We're going to Stockholm.

Why to Stockholm?

Of course, the little statue !

It's a medal.

How long will you be gone?

Rinaldo, how long will we be gone?

- A week. - Weren't you going to tell me?

I was, but we've just set off.

What shall we do then? Your friend called about that thing concerning the gym.

I'll call you later to talk about it.

Micromega!

I have to go, it's Micromega!

Mirko who?

Just one more question.

Why are you going to Stockholm by car?

You know... as you get older you become sentimental so I thought...

I'd take some time to contemplate...

before...

Let's just say I'm in search of my own personal "Wild Strawberry Patch".

Or in more prosaic terms, as my son would say...

I'm shit scared of planes.

- Have a good trip, Giovanni. - Bye Paolo!

What's this "Wild Strawberry Patch"?

Ingmar Bergman's masterpiece.

I haven't read it.

He hasn't read it.

Did you hear that, Rinaldo? Are you feeling better back there?

Microscopically better.

Couldn't he wait 5 minutes longer? There's a petrol station in 6 km.

Your father prefers urinating outdoors.

Sometimes he does it in the garden.

He believes that public loos are teeming with bacteria.

He's right, you can get fungal infections easily in gyms too.

People don't wash.

Stretch out your leg. If you work against the pain, it's worse.

Put your other hand on the bonnet, stretch your back. That's it.

- It's an odd position. - Forget about it.

It won't be a short journey. Stockholm is 2480 km away.

To get there we have to go through Austria, Germany and Denmark.

- It would've been cheaper to fly. - You're not paying.

I don't like wasting money.

Honey, shall I get this one? It won a Nobel Prize.

No! Get the recipe book, I've already got Part 1.

- This one? - Yes.

Hurry up, we need to buy milk.

Recipe books beats Passamonte 1-0!

Any comment from our Nobel Prize winner?

Sweets on sticks were invented by a pastry chef in Barcelona in the 50s,

so that children wouldn't get sticky fingers.

You know that feeling when something's sticky.

Your point being?

I would advise your followers to use the hashtag:

"A stick for Lucrezia", the sweet that sticks.

- What'll you have? - An orange juice for me.

A coffee with a froth top, plus a drop of whisky.

- That'll stop the painkillers working. - What? The coffee or the froth?

I know worse combinations.

Your father wanted to know the sum you need for the gym.

He'll arrange a bank draft later.

All right, thanks.

- What's this? - Open Job Metis

It's an employment agency. Don't you know them?

They believe in young people and they're sponsoring my blog.

I signed a great deal with them for the Swedish trip.

It's got nothing to do with the Nobel Prize! Are you okay with that?

Why not? Employment is very important.

The fewer unemployed people who try to be writers, the better.

- Rinaldo, will you deal with this? - Of course.

- Will you pay... - Of course.

Excuse me...

Congratulations, dad!

Mum sends her wishes too.

Thank her.

She's in Amazonia for the World Social Forum.

Let's hope she won't get arrested this time.

Bye, Agenor.

Agenor?

I'm coming to Rio next month for the carnival. I love it!

- He's Brazilian. - Butt out.

- He doesn't speak Italian. - Translate for me.

Lucrezia will be a real pain in the ass. Avoid her!

- Bye, Agenor. - Bye, dad.

Forgive me for not being the Huffington Post

but my blog has just had 38,000 views.

A round of applause for Lucrezia!

Ludovica, Prince Odescalchi daughter's sent you a message.

She posted a huge heart and says: "Passamonte: Pride of Italy".

And Giletti too, he's always nice about you.

He says: "Passamonte passes the test again".

A simple play on words, but he's right.

Fracosta? He's adorable. He says: "Way to go!"

Who's Fracosta?

Fracosta is Catanzaro FC's goalie, nothing special.

He's always been rubbish.

Did you sleep with him?

We're almost at the Brenner Pass! In 15 minutes we'll be in Austria!

I'll fill up there and save 31 cents per litre.

Says the scrimper.

I appreciate your prudence, Mr Oreste,

but I'm afraid you're mistaken, we won't be in Austria in 15 minutes.

I forgot to inform you that your father prefers to go via the Resia Pass.

But it's a mule track full of bends.

I'll take two hours longer!

"What he liked about minerals was the reassuring sentimental geometry:

molecules that join together in search of beauty

without any human corruption...

- I don't follow. - Of course...

It's the opening line of dad's first novel, set here in Resia.

Your grandpa brought me here one summer holiday.

Perhaps he wanted to ignite my passion for his profession,

but then, as you well know, I didn't become a chemist.

If I may so say, Maestro, that was a great thing for Literature.

Miss Lucrezia, I don't advise eating, the road is full of bends.

It's not eating that's a problem, it's drinking.

Even kids know that.

- Want some? - No, thanks, I stick by what I said.

- Want some? - No, thanks.

No, thanks.

- Shall I take this exit? - Yes, the next one.

We've finished all interviews for today.

Cancel all the others, no more journalists until Stockholm.

As you wish, Maestro.

Live from "Nobel with dad".

Your favourite blogger, Lucrezia Passamonte, is feeling carsick.

- How's it going? - Cut it out, idiot!

I'd love a nice glass of fresh milk.

I've not had any for 30 years.

I'll ask the farmer.

Watch out. It's electrified.

What the fuck was that?

Vorsicht Elektrozaun... It's electric.

Is it a concentration camp for cattle?

Be careful.

Lower.

We come in peace!

You're not allowed in here!

Hello!

Hello.

Could we have a glass of that delicious milk?

I'm sorry, this isn't a shop.

He said no. What shall I do?

Bribe him!

I'll try to strike a deal.

- What's your name, sir? - Franz.

Nice to meet you. I'm Rinaldo.

The cow over there... is it yours?

It's delicious.

Some more...

A Nobel Prize winner's senile whim.

Passamonte buys a cow so he can drink a glass of milk.

More!

Brilliant.

You're nuts.

Dear followers, this is the beautiful inn

where Giovanni Passamonte and his father, my grandfather,

spent a holiday back in 1948!

The sign says "Der Hirsch",

would you ever have imagined that it means "The Stag"?

Well, it's not the best place for an animal lover,

but let's appreciate the owners' attempt to create an educational venue.

What does Giovanni Passamonte think?

It's exactly as it was.

That's what my father wanted,

we South Tyroleans care about holding on to our traditions.

I can see that.

You're our only guests, I'll leave you the keys.

Are these mine? Thanks.

Bye.

See you in the morning? What time are you leaving?

- At six. - What?

I've driven 750 km, let's leave at a more humane time!

- At seven. - Seven it is.

I presume you have Wi-Fi?

- It should work in the lounge. - Not in the bedrooms?

No, sorry.

Goodnight.

It works in the lounge...

They could've provided some water in the bedrooms.

Barbara...

I can't hear you, speak up.

I can't, I'll explain later.

How are we going to find 15,000 euros?

It's all sorted, my dad'll give it to us.

Your dad? Why didn't you ask him sooner?

I've never asked for money before, I don't see why...

Okay, goodnight. Bye.

Goodnight.

You're here? Aren't you cold?

I'll come inside soon.

I wanted to thank you for the loan, I intend to pay you back.

- What are you smoking? - Opium.

Opium?

Opium? The drug of oblivion? What do you need to forget?

I don't remember.

If you don't remember, why smoke something that...

Quit busting my balls.

Don't let Lucrezia catch you, she'll post it on her blog.

She'd never do that.

That stuff's bad for you.

Do I need to repeat myself? Off you go...

- Bye. - Goodnight.

I wanted to thank you for the loan,

because that gym is very important for me and Barbara.

It symbolizes our life's journey.

That means I'll become an associate partner of your Ithaca.

We haven't chosen a name yet but Ithaca...

wouldn't be my first choice.

Goodnight.

Bye. Don't get cold.

We're in Austria.

Yes, we have been for 10 km. How do you know'?

There are no more potholes.

- Can you go faster? - No, the speed limit's 90 kmph.

Yes, but you won't get a fine, we still have 2,000 to go. Have mercy!

Okay.

There. Happy now, you idiot? I might lose my license now!

Hide the drugs at least!

Job done.

Maestro, if they find it I'll accept all responsibility, as always.

- Why's he glaring at me? - You said "goodbye".

I love you, really.

Please. Pull over to the right.

Thank you.

Open up!

Let me do it.

- Here you are. - We have an excessive amount of cash.

Yes... Maestro Passamonte, recent winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature,

which we are going to collect in Stockholm,

doesn't like credit cards.

Of course, he doesn't like credit cards.

Where's the cash?

That's a very complex matter, involving philosophy and economics,

that the Maestro has expertly summed up in a famous pamphlet of his.

- Show me the cash, open the briefcase! - Open it.

How much is it?

Just enough for a week's trip to Stockholm.

Around 50,000 euros.

50,000 euros? Are you nuts?

We'll take this, you follow us to the station in your car.

They'll take my license away!

50,000 euros in cash? You're a genius, a Nobel Prize winner!

And you too Rinaldo, great idea!

- My backache's gone. - Who gives a shit!

"Go faster, go faster", look what fucking happened!

This is 51,250 euros.

European law allows you to travel with 10,000.

I have to confiscate the rest.

Forgive me for interrupting you, but are you Kurt Ikrath,

twice Olympic Greco-Roman wrestling champion?

We know each other, we fought in Seoul in 1988.

Don't you remember: Oreste Passamonte?

In the preliminary rounds.

- I don't remember. - Of course he doesn't.

You floored him in 3.14 seconds,

the fastest time in the history of modern Olympics. Congratulations!

This is the Italian idiot I beat in Seoul!

What's so funny? I slipped, the floor was wet.

How do you say "slipped" in German?

You say rutschte .

I rutschte ! What's so funny?

Hold on...

A Nobel Prize winner, two extraordinary athletes meet again.

I think we could settle matters like this.

Him, a great athlete?

We won't "settle matters" Italian-style.

In this country we respect the law.

Therefore I must confiscate the money...

and you will also get a large fine.

- I slipped! - That's what I told him.

My son slipped, and that permitted you to get him in a double...

Double nelson.

And you were able to floor him.

Bullshit!

I could floor him...

in under a minute.

You're sure? You've put on a bit of weight.

What did you say?

Nothing.

Your father's idea was brilliant.

The way he played on the inspector's vanity.

This is our chance to get our money back.

You shouldn't have brought it.

- You can get your own back for Seoul. - It's true, I slipped.

Hold on, can I go over the rules?

Okay, I'll repeat the rules.

If my brother lasts more than a minute, we'll get our money back,

we'll leave, you'll apologize... in true Italian-style.

One minute? I slipped.

- It's not true you slipped. - I did.

I watched that fight.

Really?

Don't argue. Just hold out for a tad longer than a minute.

- One minute? - Get us out of this mess.

Come on. Off you go!

Shake hands.

Fight!

Come on, Oreste!

You don't even know the rules!

Resist! Don't let him floor you!

Excellent!

Yes! We've won!

One minute and 3 seconds... We've won.

Rinaldo, you can rub a bit harder, Toradol needs to penetrate the skin,

it's not a moisturizing cream.

Not so hard. That's fine, thanks.

- I'm no expert. - Thanks.

Here's our wounded warrior following a crushing defeat,

but unlike in Seoul, he walks away victorious.

Enough!

Milo of Croton had a massage after every fight.

- That's what I'm doing, Maestro. - Yes, but from naked maids.

- I know it's not the same thing. - No!

- Who's Milo of Croton? - The greatest wrestler in ancient history.

He was undefeated during his very long career,

he was considered a demigod.

Can our demigod go faster or is it against his religion?

Cut the crap.

They could've used a better photo.

' Bye, Bob! " Bye, Bob!

Any more kids?

Who knows, maybe there are some we don't know about.

Any more?

- Wee stop? - Stop that.

- Shit, it hurts. - Yes, let's stop.

Shall we stop? I'll look for a resort.

No need. Tonight we're staying with a friend of your father's.

It's near here, in Würzburg. We're almost there.

Würzburg! They play in Germany's 2. Bundesliga.

A minor team, they've never won jack shit.

Bloody hell!

Don't worry, Mr Oreste, they'll see to it.

Giovanni!

- My dear. - Greta!

I don't believe it, it's actually her!

- My dear friend... - How are you?

Who is she?

- Greta Bauer. - Who's she?

- Let me look at you. - Here I am.

Time's stood still! You look beautiful.

Mrs Bauer won her second Oscar for her role as Agatha.

- The heroine in your father's masterpiece. - Yes, I've seen the film.

- But I thought she was dead. - Dead? You're so dumb.

She retired from the screen 20 years ago. You tell him, Rinaldo. You're so ignorant.

Keep your voice down, she'll hear you.

Are these your babies?

Let's go inside.

She's divine.

Were you expecting...

such a prestigious award?

What use are awards to us, at our age?

You're a successful man.

Greta...

My dear friend Greta.

You know full well that success is like a drug.

And like with all drugs, you become addicted.

It forces artists to expend their most precious energies

just to maintain their success, their fame...

Then when you realise you've wasted your life...

it's usually too late.

You're my best friend, you don't need to be cynical with me.

No, I'm being serious.

I'd be willing to swap all the awards in the world

for a grain of inspiration.

My most recent novels are awful.

Really awful.

I've nothing left to say, that's the truth.

I keep looking for a tiny glimmer of light,

but I can see nothing on the horizon.

Perhaps, but you've written wonderful stories

and the Nobel Prize is an award for your career.

An award for my career?

The celebration of my past as a future horizon,

but a very brief future.

Fucking great accomplishment.

So why are you going to Stockholm?

Because I'm planning a surprise.

A kind of sick joke.

Don't tell me,

I can imagine.

A narcissist through and through, huh?

- Through and through. - I've got a surprise for you too.

I'm leaving the day after tomorrow.

And I'd rather you heard it from me

than read it in the newspapers.

Where are you going?

Finish your drink first, then I'll show you.

She sure was beautiful.

- I still find her gorgeous. - You wouldn't say no, right?

What are you saying, Mr Oreste?

What a sophisticated exchange.

This house is divine!

Can I say something though...

These paintings lower the general tone...

What? This is Neo-cubism, these are black compositions!

You make me so mad!

- Are they expensive? - Hugely.

Don't touch!

- How did she get so rich? - Thanks to four successful divorces.

The poorest of her ex-husbands was a tycoon.

Get your act together,

you'll need more than dad's pocket money for a house like this!

Let's take a photo with the Oscars!

The Academy Awards. Fab.

- That's not a good idea. - Take it with your phone.

- This'll be worth 30,000 likes. - Hurry up.

Three, two, one...

Excuse me! Taking photos is strictly forbidden!

Oh God, how embarrassing.

No, let them be.

They're Giovanni's children, it's as if they were mine.

She's called Sissi.

Give me that, I'll take it. Join them.

- Don't move. - What a horrid cat...

Ready? All done...

Now follow me, I have something to show you.

Put them back.

Here.

You've been decontaminated.

Please, come forward.

Professor Matsumoto will be in charge of my trip.

I have complete trust in him,

he's an expert in cryogenesis.

I'd heard of a couple of centres in the US but I didn't think you could...

Get hibernated in your own home?

It's just a matter of money, darling.

Madam, what exactly happens in here?

The technical term is cryonic suspension.

- I don't get it. - Hibernation.

- Meaning? - She'll be frozen.

Inside this container liquid nitrogen keeps the body intact

at a temperature of -196°C, until it can be resuscitated.

- When? - When they invent the right equipment.

- So there's no certainty? - No.

Just 50 years ago, no one thought the Internet would exist.

In the 19th century, they never thought man would fly.

Are you sure you want to do this?

Are you sure about what you want to do at the Nobel Prize ceremony?

I'm so excited, Giovanni.

Religious people entrust their souls to God,

I'd rather entrust my body to Science.

It takes real courage to do something like this.

I have a terminal illness.

But in 50, 100 or 200 years...

our brothers in the future

will have found a cure for this utter nuisance called death.

She's nuts.

If we're able to think of eternity, we'll be able to achieve it too.

It's just a matter of time.

- Of course. - Eternity...

Isn't it a beautiful word?

I feel a bit cold.

One more question.

This other smaller container... what's it for?

This is for Sissi!

You're freezing your cat too? Of course...

She's nuts.

It's beautiful. It must cost you a fortune.

I've never paid a penny.

- How's your back? - Much better.

- Do you want me to drive? - Don't worry.

I didn't sleep a wink last night.

Partly because of the paintings, they're a bit creepy...

But mostly because of the cat-freezing thing. Why do that'?

I can understand an old woman doing it.

But why freeze a poor animal?

It has no choice in the matter...

I find it totally inhumane.

- I think I've got a puncture. - Didn't that sound like a squeal?

Let's have a look.

Holy shit!

Rinaldo, did you take my bag?

- Now what? - Get rid of the corpse.

I'll cover for you.

Do something.

I wonder what the future will be like.

I don't know.

But I know what they'll ask you when you wake up.

- What? - For your autograph.

Give me a hug.

Farewell, Greta. Good luck.

Same to you.

We had some trouble loading up the luggage.

- Have you seen Sissi? - No.

- Have you seen Sissi? - No, madam.

- Have you seen Sissi? - No!

Sissi! Sissi!

You're a murderer.

She crawled under the car like a rat. Right, Rinaldo?

I think she did it on purpose, animals aren't dumb.

She thought: I'd rather die now

than get frozen, defrosted, killed, resuscitated...

- Animals are intelligent. - Are you being serious?

- Yes. - It's official: my brother's an idiot.

What do you think? ls freezing a cat a good idea?

Pharaohs chose to be embalmed for the same reasons.

Anubis was the god that presided over the ritual.

Nowadays he's called Professor Matsumoto, he wears a white coat.

Anubis had the head of a jackal.

Why freeze the cat though?

Who knows, she was a Sphynx.

There was a light resemblance.

Perhaps Sissi was Greta's psychopomp.

What's a psychOPOmP?

It's what they called pimps in Ancient Egypt.

- Really? - How dumb are you?

Please, Lucrezia. Your sister's winding you up.

What is it?

Psychopomp literally means "transporter of souls".

Like you, seeing you're taking us to Stockholm.

Mr Oreste, you are our psychopomp.

Rinaldo, with all due respect, I don't want to be a psychopomp.

I don't like the name.

I've got the Wi-Fi password, it works in the bedrooms too...

Well, I'm here to sleep.

Maestro, your bags are in your room.

If you need anything, I'm here. Room 214.

Goodnight.

Dad, can I ask you something?

Your friend's house was beautiful but I wasn't able to sleep,

those paintings gave me the creeps...

But that's not it.

I checked out Wikipedia for information on that guy from Croton...

- Milo of Croton. - Yes.

According to the article...

he was Greek and lived in Calabria, right?

Because the Romans weren't there yet.

But they call it Greco-Roman wrestling.

I'm having trouble placing this figure in time in history.

Have you heard of the Panhellenic Games?

No. Let me open it.

Wrong way.

There.

- Go in. - Shall I?

Yes.

Dad, don't smoke. You'll set the alarm off!

Quit busting my balls!

Quit busting my balls, tomorrow you'll get the last two chapters of the book.

I thought I'd change the title. "Gossip Killer". Do you like it?

Oh God, what a crappy room!

Will you go to Salina next year or Capalbio?

Hi, dad. How are you? Where are you?

We're fine, we're on the bridge, nearly in Copenhagen.

- Hi, Andrea. - Hi, auntie.

Grandpa and Rinaldo say hello too.

- Hi! - Way to go, grandpa!

- Will I see you tonight? - Of course.

We'll be in Copenhagen, so of course!

I'll send you the address,

I have to stay put but I'll be there after ten. You'll love it.

See you later.

This district is a car free zone.

Haven't you been here?

No, until last year my son lived in Berlin.

When did you last see him?

- Last year at Christmas. - Quite a while ago!

- I bet he's grown a lot. - He's 25, he's stopped growing now.

- What does he do? - I've never understood.

He works with his computer, strums away at his guitar,

It's just another way of doing jack shit.

Dad, please, not in the street. We'll all get arrested.

Don't worry, Christiania is an anarchic, self-managed district.

With a permissive attitude to drugs.

But not to video cameras, Miss Lucrezia.

The residents of Christiania don't like to be filmed.

Be extra careful when we go along Pusher Street.

Turn it off.

How come the son of two health and fitness fanatics

chose to live in a place like this?

Could he be rebelling against his petit-bourgeois conformist family?

How come my little sister doesn't have a husband or any kids?

Maybe because she wants to continue being daddy's little girl?

- I love you too. - So very much.

- Where's dad? - He's gone ahead.

Let's catch up or he'll get lost.

No, your father lived in Christiania for over six months in the 70s.

- Did you know about that? - No.

It's ten minutes on foot.

- Where's Dad? - There.

I'll go over to him.

There's Andrea.

- Andrea! - Auntie!

This place is fantastic!

- Hi, dad. - How are you?

Good.

- Aren't you going to hug? - Yes, of course.

Hold on a minute.

Shame I can't film this!

Go ahead, no worries!

But Rinaldo said I couldn't.

- You're with me, don't worry. - You're ace!

These drawings, this stuff... do you do them?

- That's my job! - Of course, it's your job...

- Where's grandpa? - He's over there with Rinaldo.

There.

Look!

Amazing.

You're good, aren't you? Really good.

- How are you? - Fine.

- How's Mum? - Mum's fine.

- We've found a gym. - Really?

- I'm glad. - So am I.

You're a personal trainer, right?

Not exactly.

Let's say I promote mental and physical well-being on a holistic level.

There's this friend of mine... an awesome bass guitarist...

- He's got sciatica. Come meet him. - I'll be right back.

Britta's splendid, where's she from?

She's half Italian, half Islandic.

I really love it here. All these alternative people...

- ls that Nana Morel? - Yes. She's my friend.

- Really? - Yes.

She has 2 million followers, I follow her, I adore her. I have to meet her.

Maestro?

The world is still alive.

Surprisingly-

Wee break.

Passamonte?

Mrs Enora is a Breton conceptual artist.

She fell in love with me while she was studying the concept of emptiness.

That should have aroused my suspicion.

Well, are you looking forward to being a dad again?

I don't know...

it's not an easy job.

What about you Rinaldo? Forgive me for asking...

Any luck on the women front?

I've only been in love once in my life,

with a Swedish woman, but I don't want to talk about it.

My friend Rinaldo is a true romantic.

- Please, Maestro! - It's true.

Whereas I suffer from emotional bulimia.

At least that's what Burroughs believed.

- William Burroughs? - Yes.

- Where did you meet him? - In Paris.

The first time I saw him he looked like a sort of middle-aged hippy,

flopped on a sofa with an attitude of total nonchalance.

And without even opening his eyes he said...

And then later in the evening, a young man walked in,

carrying a tray full of pills that he was offering...

with the grace of a butler.

- Who was he? Keith Richards? - Yeah, right...

- It was me. - No, it wasn't.

It was Rinaldo.

Back then he was a young man.

Honestly.

Hold on, Rinaldo... why were you there?

Basically, I was his pusher.

Do you mind us coming to Stockholm with you?

No! Of course not.

This is my father's trip, if he's happy...

Plus I'm happy Oreste's spending time with his son.

Your dad's so cool! You're lucky.

He must have some great stories to tell.

How old's Oreste?

Between 48 and 53, I think.

- Why? - He looks good for his age.

Inner voidness keeps you young.

Grandpa.

If I tell you a secret, promise you won't tell anyone?

Of course not.

I'm joking, come on.

Mum's having an affair.

I got a text yesterday.

It was for Andrea. But not me.

It said:

"Did we do something stupid or was last night worth it?"

That doesn't sound like damning proof that she's cheating.

- What about this photo? - That does.

- How old's your mum? - Come on...

Should I tell my dad?

I think you've already decided, you've told me about it...

Isn't this a fantastic place?

This has always been one of my greatest desires.

You mean having a sauna?

A Swedish sauna.

It's not every day I'm in Sweden!

How very profound.

Dad, listen... can I ask you something?

Did you really see my fight in Seoul?

Yes.

I'm glad.

- Why have you never told me? - Well... there's so much I've not told you.

Guys, this is so cool.

Good thinking, great idea!

Thanks.

How extraordinary.

I think she likes you.

At the gym, plenty of women still fall at my feet.

- I'm just not interested. - But this isn't a gym.

So what? Being faithful is important to me.

But a good shag is nearly always better.

A truly enchanting place.

Maestro? Red trunks or blue trunks?

Blue.

Thanks.

- What did she say? - She's sorry, but they don't do pasta.

Excuse me, it's your mum.

Barbara, I'll call you back. We're eating.

Are you feeling hungry after your shag?

What are you saying? Are you nuts?

Shut up, you liar! You should be ashamed!

Can we speak later?

I had to find out from a video!

Shit! Who is that girl? Is she even 18?

What video? What are you talking about?

Your dad's skivvy sent me a video. You're a porn star!

You were screwing a young girl in a sauna, you shit!

Did I tell you you're a shit?

You're a total dickhead.

I bet this was your idea, right?

Yes.

What's going on?

I just want to know why.

You've always done as you pleased and now you want to ruin my marriage?

Why?

What did you do?

Andrea, this doesn't concern you.

I think it does.

- Show him. - No...

- Show him! - Show me what?

Go on!

What is it? What the fuck's going on!

I've got nothing to do with this. This is between you and mum.

What do you mean?

Mum sent me a text by mistake.

Look.

- Holy shit! - Has Barbara had a boob job'?

- Holy shit! - When did she do that?

Where did she get it done?

Why didn't you tell me right away?

It's not his fault your wife's a slut.

Instead of telling me he told Einstein who's a bastard and dropped the bomb!

No, that's a bit mean.

Your father just helped settle the score.

There's no fucking score to settle! I've never cheated on my wife before!

Has she sent you texts by mistake before?

Hold on, who did you cheat on mum with?

You two...

- What were you thinking? - Sorry.

I didn't think I'd cause so much trouble.

I didn't know...

What's so fucking funny?

- What did she ask? - If you liked it.

Go fuck yourself! I'm fucking sick of Sweden already!

Yes, thanks.

Did you really film Oreste while he was with Britta?

You're a real bastard.

Oreste has a right to be angry, you haven't.

Think about your book instead.

What do you know about my book?

Did your little spy Rinaldo check my computer?

Did you really think your publisher wouldn't talk to me about it?

- Did he send it to you? - I asked him to.

Tell me what you think.

It has form but no substance.

You'll never be any good at this job.

Welcome to the family.

Forgive me for bringing it up again, but I think you exaggerated this time.

Why? My son's wife is a bitch.

My daughter doesn't know how to write.

Okay, being realistic is a valuable lesson to learn. But...

Perhaps taught on two separate occasions, not all at once.

Even if I do appreciate your being concise, as always.

My dear friend...

I just regret not doing it sooner.

Maestro, may I ask you something... where on earth are we going?

It's a surprise.

Did you call Barbara back?

Yes.

What makes me really fucking mad is that I'm sure it wasn't the first time.

It wasn't the first time!

- Can I be frank with you? - It wasn't the first time...

Dad shouldn't have done what he did...

but she's always treated you like a doormat,

like a lap dog, that's not nice.

What the fuck do you know?

I just do. And so do you. Be honest.

What should I do? Thank him? No.

I'll take the first flight back to Rome,

I'll leave him here, to hell with everything.

Have you read "The Labour of Thought"?

No. Right now I'm reading a book about the Panhellenic Games.

Well... "The Labour of Thought" is a beautiful novel written by the bastard.

So?

The protagonist reminds me of you.

In what way?

I'll email it to you, but make sure you read it.

You're an intellectual now?

Can I tell you something?

I reckon the bastard was right about you too.

What?

This obsession with writing...

it's a waste of time.

You should thank him.

Cut it out.

I just feel really bad for Andrea, he's got nothing to do with this.

Andrea is stronger than both of us.

- What do you think? - It's awesome.

- Will you keep it as an acoustic? - I don't know.

We can rework this part...

This bit is awesome.

Why are we here?

The house where you fell in love is no longer here.

But it's similar, right?

It's exactly the same.

I bought it.

You bought it?

Yes, but not for me.

That's my furniture, my sofa, my red lamp.

I took the liberty...

Here.

These are the keys.

Why the long face, my friend?

Wasn't it your greatest desire to retire here as a pensioner?

Perhaps you don't know it, but it was Ingrid's too.

Maestro,

you've been in touch with Ingrid?

Well, it wasn't easy...

she was near Malmo... she's well.

Well... she's quite well.

She should already be here, but she never was very punctual.

This wine is for you.

But this was to celebrate your Nobel Prize.

No, this wine is much more important.

And what could be more important

than getting back together with the greatest love of your life?

Apart from me, of course.

Riserva Ducale Oro 1988.

That's the year I met Ingrid.

I know.

You've come full circle.

Shit, Maestro... I'm getting all emotional.

Giovanni?

Do you recognise her?

Of course!

Go, my friend. Off you go.

- Thank you, Maestro. - Go!

Ingrid.

Giovanni.

He's Giovanni.

I'm Rinaldo.

Of course...

my Rinaldo.

Poor Ingrid.

She was my publisher in Sweden.

That's how Rinaldo met her thirty odd years ago.

It was a romance,

full of passion.

It only lasted one summer, on that lake.

Then it ended because of me,

because he didn't want to abandon me.

Rinaldo was born to serve others,

but it cost him a great deal.

He never forgot about her.

Shit, what a great story.

So is he staying there?

Isn't he coming to the Nobel Prize ceremony?

He wanted to come, but I said no.

I don't want him to see my surprise.

Lucrezia, what do you think?

Did I do the right thing?

Thank you, Giovanni.

Can I have a word?

So you've not lost your tongue, I was worried.

Is Ugo Bussani me?

I didn't know you've read my books.

I've started, they're okay.

But that's not it... was I your inspiration?

Partly, but that's just literature,

you're not as gutsy as the character in the book.

In the epilogue he manages to give it his all.

I haven't got that far.

Hold on... Ugo Bussani is a gay body-builder.

Do you think I'm queer?

Read the rest, then we'll talk.

Hey! Listen...

- It won't happen again. - No!

I'm fine with that. Andrea's happy, so take it easy, okay?

Everything's cool.

There are no flights until tomorrow,

so you might as well sleep on it.

My grandpa's won a Nobel Prize...

I swear ! He's won a Nobel Prize!

"Ugo Bussani never forgot the promise he made, he went to his lawyer and..."

What is it?

We've both screwed up, I know, but just come home.

It'll take more than a quick chat to resolve this.

Serafino, I've made up my mind. I don't want to publish it.

It's a rubbish book,

you know that too, you're a hypocrite, you should've told me sooner.

You want to know why?

Because it's a book that has form, but no substance.

- It's my fault, will you come home? - No !

The truth is that...

the truth is...

"The truth is that there is no good or bad.

Defending love from opposing positions is a hypocritical exercise,

because love is indivisible when it ends,

it inevitably turns into a blaming game."

You're reading, is it some crap your dad wrote?

No, I thought of it.

I want to be here for the Nobel Prize ceremony.

I'll decide when I'm coming home. ls that clear?

I'll see you in Capalbio next week, right?

- How did mum react? - Same as me.

- Meaning? - We'll see.

Can I say something? I like your attitude.

- Maybe grandpa was right. - Don't you start defending him too.

I spoke to my publisher.

I've decided not to publish my book. Happy now?

Congratulations!

I'm happy TOY YOU-

Your talent lies elsewhere.

You're a good manipulator.

Is that supposed to be a compliment?

That's a talent too, you know.

Think how lucky you are, you could easily generate money,

without having to give anything in exchange.

Which is what artists hate doing.

Melissa!

How marvellous!

Hey! You're always chatting up the girls...

I hate to disappoint you, but Lucrezia is my daughter.

- You're safe then. - That's debatable.

- And Melissa is... - An ex-girlfriend of yours?

No, actually he was the one doing the chasing.

Back when he was a goddamn nobody.

Hasn't he told you about the six months he spent at my hippy commune?

No. He's not told me about that.

Autobiographical aspects are usually saved for the grandchildren.

They skip a generation.

We had great fun, didn't we?

A great period... "hippies".

Great weed.

And then Melissa found a way of investing her ideals in the Stock Market.

You've heard of Flower Power?

She's the founder and major share-holder.

Pleased to meet you.

Your multinational cosmetics company is top class, I adore it, my compliments!

From free love to the free market.

It's always a question of screwing over as many people as possible.

A manipulator, you see?

Cheers.

The usual "free love" joke?

Come join us.

He's the sex maniac I told you about.

- Not far off... - A Nobel Prize winner.

I should hope so, seeing the amount I pay him to be my poster boy.

Mother is very generous.

So you're her son?

And this is Jurgen's girlfriend?

No.

Migumi is my girlfriend.

Cheers.

The Duchess and the Princess of Gothenburg.

Of Gothenburg...

There's something I need to tell you.

It's a big surprise.

You're marrying your Japanese girlfriend?

No.

It concerns you and I.

Dear followers, we're in Sweden at last, you'll never guess who I met.

Let's see if you recognise him, let me know what you think.

Say hi.

Hi, everyone.

It's him: Jurgen Magnusson the face of Flower Power.

The highest paid model in the world features in our blog "Nobel Prize with Dad".

He's a top model, he's gorgeous. Do you want to see him again?

Say hi.

Call the others.

Dad wants us.

Giovanni wants us.

- Why? - I don't know.

Here we are.

Melissa and I have something to tell you.

Without beating about the bush, you might have another brother.

I don't understand, who?

Jurgen.

Have you only just found out?

I told him a few minutes ago.

For me Jurgen has always been the fruit of free love.

Are you sure?

Yes, perhaps. Maybe.

Lucrezia, calm down.

Come on, one more won't make any difference.

What's happened?

Yes, you might have a sister.

Fucking hell, no!

Have you gone nuts?

You're a jerk!

Did you screw him?

Yes, for fuck's sake. This one really beats them all!

You are completely nuts!

But I had no idea, believe me.

- You two have screwed? - Yes.

- Holy shit! - I hate you! I hate you!

I hate my fucking family!

And I hate you and your disgusting tie too!

Where is he?

Where's the genius?

Rinaldo?

I'm really disappointed with you.

What a son of a bitch...

You were screwing her too?

Aren't you ashamed?

My darling Ingrid kept calling me Giovanni...

I thought that her dementia was a terrible illness,

then she kept asking to see

my heart-shaped mole on my ass.

I don't have one! But her Giovanni does!

So then the penny dropped.

Rinaldo, it happened before you came along.

You need to know about Ingrid's promiscuity...

No! You don't need to tell me! She already has!

Because in the end I got fucked off and I made her tell me,

without using physical force, showing respect to the woman I once loved,

albeit a slut!

And she gave me some names.

Ludovico Furnier, remember him?

He screwed her...

Nils Kourtmehier!

That shitty guru who held lectures in the abandoned church.

He screwed her.

The Bergman twins!

They had threesomes with that whore!

As you see, I'm just a drop in the ocean.

Yes, but you always said you were my friend.

Instead all you care about is yourself.

I gave up everything for you...

For a self-centred man, an egoist!

The genius with a heart-shaped mole on his ass!

Yes?

One moment.

It's Franz, the shepherd from Val Resia, he says that the cow we bought

is ready for breeding, he wants your authorization.

Is he strong?

Good, good!

Thank you, goodbye!

We've found the bull.

What's so fucking funny?

- What's going on? - We need to talk.

Even though I told dad I wouldn't say a word.

What is it? Tell me.

Before leaving, I went to see him to talk about some things,

but he was resting.

To pass the time, I had a snoop through his things...

- I know I shouldn't have. - No.

- I found something confidential. - What?

The speech he prepared for the Nobel Prize.

I found out that...

- He wants to kill himself at the ceremony. - I didn't get that.

- He wants to kill himself at the ceremony. - What the hell are you saying?

I swear it's true.

You kept quiet because it suited you, right?

That's how you persuaded him to let you come.

Then you had a go at me for running over the cat...

Please, I feel bad enough as it is.

- What shall we do? Should we help him? - Of course, we can't feign ignorance.

- Let's talk to him... - Will you go?

- No, we'll go together. - Right.

- Is he down there? - No, down there.

Let's go.

- How does he want to kill himself? - With poison.

- Hemlock? - What do you know about hemlock?

I've worked in hotels.

Hemlock's lethal. It causes total paralysis.

How awful, enough!

Here we are.

- You knock. - Me?

- Yes, you're older, you knock. - You always pass the buck...

Here goes.

Sorry, I showed her something in the bathroom.

Mr Oreste, Miss Lucrezia, is there anything I can do for you?

We urgently need to speak to our father.

Nothing could be simpler.

Thank you, really.

Maestro! Your heirs are here.

- Who? - They wish to confer with you.

- I'll do the talking. - Yes.

Hi, dad.

Well, Lucrezia told me what you're planning to do...

Yes. I've changed my mind.

Are you disappointed?

No.

No.

I will, this calls for a hit.

Anything else? No. Be off with you then.

Melissa!

Good evening, madam. Do you remember me?

How come you're here? Didn't you leave?

No.

Eternity without Sissi is just a desolate wilderness.

I didn't know she'd passed away, I'm so sorry.

Never mind, it's happened now. Thank you, my clear.

Have a lovely evening, my condolences.

Thanks.

I thank the Swedish academy for this prestigious acknowledgement.

A medal...

like at the Olympics.

Winners aren't usually very interesting,

their speeches are all the same,

they're always full of superlatives,

adulatory comments and predictable narcissisms.

Nice, isn't it?

Life is certainly harder for those who will never stand on a podium,

but all the same, this will not stop them from living their lives.

And in actual fact, it's precisely in the tedious routine of a normal existence

that the true meaning of our shared journey lies.

Those who fall offer us the chance to give them a helping hand.

Those who seek a path give us the chance to help them to find it.

And so, all of us,

depending on our circumstances,

are those who fall and those who give a helping hand.

Those who seek a path and those who show them the way.

No man is an island.

Stepping down from the podium,

moving away from being centre stage,

is the best antidote against the horrors of our history.

All prizes and individual acknowledgements mean nothing

if they're not the fruit of a collaboration.

Including this prestigious prize too.

That I want to dedicate to my children

and to the precious memory of an encounter that saved my life.

Every life, we know, is full of misadventures,

but also of infinite beauty.

And ours can be nothing else than a team effort.

THE PRIZE