Original subtitles

PART TWO

Doctor...

My wife is sick. Can you see her?

Listen...

Doctor.

It's my wife.

I'm not a doctor, I've never...

Alright, come in.

Excuse me, signora.

Your arm, so I can check your pulse.

Did the fever make you shiver?

Vomit?

It's erysipelas.

It's not dangerous.

But for the medicine she needs...

you'll need a prescription from the local doctor. I'm not authorized.

May I wash my hands?

Get a clean towel for the doctor.

Listen...

Take that coin off her forehead.

- It doesn't help. - Alright.

But it does help...

Helps the pain.

No, you need medicine for the pain.

Medicine.

No, I need the coin.

- Get the prescription. - Thank you, doctor.

Tell me clearly how far I can go.

As far as the cemetery.

No farther.

We're already at the cemetery.

Let's turn back.

Come in, come in, Baron.

- My apologies, Don Carlo. - None needed.

Change the pillowcase as usual.

Sorry to disturb you.

May I introduce myself?

Rotunno.

Baron Nicola Rotunno.

From Avellino.

I own land here in Gagliano.

I come here from time to time to collect the rent.

You're also here on business?

No, I'm a political prisoner.

Where are you from?

Turin.

A precautionary confinement, I presume.

Maybe I can put in a good word.

I'm friends with the best friend of the lady friend of Senator Bocchini,

Chief of Police.

We could try to have you sent back to Turin.

How do you like it here?

Fine.

But there are boundaries I'm not allowed to pass.

But fine.

How far would you like to go?

Since you so kindly offered to get me returned to Turin...

Please understand...

It seems absurd to worry about a few feet, more or less.

True.

Our goal is Turin.

May I turn off the light?

The lady I know,

the friend of Bocchini's lover,

is, like me, devoted,

deeply devoted to the Madonna of Montevergine.

We often meet in that sanctuary.

And in others.

On my motorcycle,

at least once a year,

I visit the sanctuaries

of St. Rita of Cascia,

the Madonna of Loreto, and of Camaldoli.

Have you ever visited these holy places?

Perhaps you're not a believer.

I have my doubts.

Of course.

You deal with politics.

You love money.

I'm a soldier of Christ.

You see.

Faith is very important.

An immense gift.

I don't know if you've ever heard

of San Rocco of Tolve.

I've witnessed his miracles!

Every year there's a pilgrimage in early August.

It's not far.

Go if you can.

Get a special permit.

Better yet, I'll get it for you.

Then...

You'll realize,

you'll see,

that people come from the whole region.

Men,

women,

children.

San Rocco is there waiting,

descended from the sky,

motionless,

above his church.

Everyone

can see him!

Gagliano also has a good patron saint.

San Maurizio.

As for me,

I serve Mass every morning.

At the age of 84, I feel

like the humblest altar boy.

We have been given everything.

Sorry.

I have nothing against you.

In the name of Baby Jesus,

Savior of the world,

I bless you.

Who could that be?

Who is it?

Excuse me, it's Levi.

- Who? - Levi!

Perhaps you remember.

- We already met. - Just a minute.

Sorry, maybe I shouldn't...

- No, on the contrary... - I can come back later.

Come in, come in.

- Forgive me. - For what?

Don Cosimino told me you paint. So do I, so I thought...

Good. Please come in, doctor.

Excuse my mother. She's deaf.

She's almost 90.

Vetula et infirma.

Have a glass of wine, doctor.

Drink, drink.

How is it?

Good, thank you.

You're looking at my books.

Yes, because without books...

In this town, even reading brings no pleasure.

I had some nice books, even rare editions.

When I arrived, the swine who transported them

spread tar on them,

out of spite.

I lost all interest in opening them.

I left them on the floor

where they've been ever since.

You wrote this book on San Calogero of Avila?

A little-known Spanish saint.

I also painted in those days.

Episodes from his life.

Polyptychs.

Can I see them?

Really?

That's why I'm here.

Gladly.

Come.

Once...

I enjoyed doing these little things.

But here, you can't do anything.

They're nice with this orange.

Very nice.

- More wine? - No thanks...

I just dropped by.

Wake up, Don Carlo, wake up!

The Carabiniere wants you.

Here I am.

Suit yourself.

I am.

This is the coolest spot in town.

And should be the quietest.

This town is built atop the bones of the dead.

The bones of the dead!

Dig a hole, and out pop our dear relatives

and get eaten by the dogs!

How did that story go?

The one about Ninco Nanco?

No, the one you were telling me before,

about carts full of bones coming and going through town.

Yes, the time of the landslide!

When the church of the Madonna collapsed.

- What happened next? - What happened?

One night, as I was walking by the church,

I lost my strength.

I felt so faint, I had to sit down on the chapel steps.

I couldn't get back up.

- Someone stopped me. - And then?

Then the voice of a wild animal called me.

Called me by name.

It was the devil!

A devil that kept me from walking or talking.

I made the sign of the cross.

The demon started to gnash its teeth,

and howl like a beast to the slaughter!

In the darkness, I saw a goat on the church ruins.

Then the devil plunged off the cliff!

- Stop! Back to town! - What's going on?

Nobody works today!

Everyone in the piazza to hear the mayor's speech.

- We don't care! - We've work to do!

People of Gagliano...

In Abyssinia, Selassie continues to provoke us!

Down with the Selassie!

How much longer must we wait?

How long till the Duce loses his patience?

Good dog, Barone. Sleep, don't listen.

The Roman legions once ruled the world.

Rome's renewed greatness shines

on its seven hills!

"Shines on the seven hills.

But here the hills...

crumble

and turn to dust."

Down with England!

The most despicable nation,

a colonial power, denies us our own colonies!

Happy to see your sister?

So sweet.

- Can you get her suitcase? - Sure! Right away!

Luisa.

Are those the ribbons you mentioned?

Yes, they leave them there till they wither.

Why are they so happy to see us?

Because before I was just a guy from the North.

Your being here fills in a gap.

What's that?

Nothing.

What gap?

Their deepest feelings are for the family.

Blood ties are sacred.

How do they know I'm your sister?

They see and know everything.

Who's he?

Another prisoner. A teacher from Padua.

But we're not allowed to talk to each other.

There are other prisoners?

About ten.

I barely see them.

You know how it goes.

A lot of friends don't call out of caution.

Others we don't call to protect them.

But the brave ones come by and ask about you.

Has Mario Soldati's book come out?

Yes, you'll get it with the others.

He told us how you finished doing the cover

while they were arresting you.

So he told you.

Coming.

It'd be perfect for painting, with all these windows.

But I don't like the tiles.

Why?

I've never liked loud geometric shapes

when I paint.

They're too overpowering.

You'll need a woman here.

Yes, I will...

But it's not easy.

Don't exaggerate.

Finding a cleaning lady can't be such a problem.

Here a woman won't enter a single man's house.

Being in the same space means they've made love.

- You're kidding. - I'm not.

- They said there was a terrace. - Yes, upstairs.

Let's go see.

Beautiful, isn't it?

This house has a unique feature. Did you notice?

Tell me.

A porcelain toilet!

The only one for miles around.

Does it hurt if I touch here?

You feel cold?

You've got to stay covered.

The girl needs an extra blanket.

Your daughter has malaria.

I've got some quinine. Here.

When it's done, get more from the doctor.

One in the morning, one at night.

- How many children do you have? - Six.

Six.

Stick out your tongue.

Bravo.

They don't have anything.

You let your daughter work?

Yes, she works.

- She has to stop working. - Alright.

Thank you!

They call this the Bersagliere's ditch.

During the Brigand's revolt, they threw in a northern soldier,

who got lost in these mountains.

So doctor, what does she have?

The usual. Malaria.

When I asked the police to transfer you somewhere healthier,

the officer answered that there's no malaria here.

"One case a year, at most," he said.

"I'm a doctor," I said.

"Then you know," he said.

"But if they can live with it, so can your brother."

Impeccable reasoning.

Yes, but at the Matera pharmacy, they never heard of a stethoscope.

At least Matera has a pharmacy. There's none here.

Amid this disaster, you play the painter.

Luisa, don't start,

I do what I know and what I like.

I didn't just start painting.

It's not right.

You're perfectly capable of being a doctor,

but you're afraid.

Afraid of what?

No experience?

What better place to gain experience?

Yes, I found my guinea pigs.

What are you saying? Carlo, please.

Why do you talk like that?

Move! Do something!

I can't understand why nothing's done for these villages.

Time to act! Not wait till tomorrow!

You're constructive and efficient by nature.

What you're saying should have been done long ago.

But here, people are...

complicated.

After a couple of weeks here, you'd change, too.

I don't change so easily.

When I see how people suffer just because they were born here.

First thing they tell you is you can't survive here, you have to leave.

They used to go to America.

Then Naples, or Rome...

Now Africa, they say.

Their last hope.

After what I saw in Matera, I can't blame them.

I went to visit that crater full of caves.

The place called "Sassi."

20,000 men and animals crammed together.

It looked like a city destroyed by the plague.

This is what the petty bourgeoisie has come to.

Since they can no longer live like "gentlemen," as they say,

they exploit the peasants,

while reserving jobs as pharmacist, priest, mayor,

or police chief for themselves.

But since everything is so suffocating,

the fight becomes fierce

and petty.

It's a matter of life and death.

So the war is a way to escape.

Yes, but they're headed for destruction.

You know,

maybe

what attracts them...

is the possibility of defeat and annihilation.

Things look so different from here, compared to Turin.

Turin.

Turin is farther from here than India or China.

In Turin, there are other rhythms, other laws...

that make no sense here.

Here you understand why these kids become fascists.

In their condition, one could easily become

a spy, a thief, a murderer.

Or die a hero in Africa.

So they go to war out of desperation?

Of course.

But most of them stay behind...

and their passions grow...

Trapped between a few houses.

As for me...

How long will the world of men remain

trapped in the circle

of their dark passions?

What time is it?

I don't know.

I never look at my watch anymore.

- Tomorrow you'll leave behind... - Excuse me?

All those meadows you purchased, your house,

washed by the yellow Tiber.

You'll leave them behind.

Your heir will own

those towering riches.

Rich or poor,

whether of noble lineage or humble birth,

You'll still be the victim of the Tartar

who's pitiless.

To a single end

we'll all be driven.

Sooner or later,

from the lots tossed in the urn,

a single fate will emerge

and seat us in the boat

of eternal exile.

How beautiful.

Is it a poem from Horace?

Can't the mayor's sister put a bathroom in her house?

They're happy with a chamber pot.

Really?

Hard to believe.

So you don't have messages for anyone?

Nothing?

Well, send them all my regards.

Truth is, I feel like I've always lived here.

Spying on me now?

May I?

Hello?

Can I come in?

He said to meet him, but no one's here.

Don Carlo, where are you?

It's in French.

I'm here.

You're up there!

- There you are! Finally! - The stairs are inside.

We're coming right up.

I've found a cleaning lady for you.

Her name is Giulia Venere, from Sant'Arcangelo.

Ah, the "Santarcangelese."

She's a witch.

Mixing potions, casting the evil eye.

She's the barber's lover.

The only woman in town who can work for an unmarried man.

Very clean and hard-working.

Shall we go downstairs? It's hot up here.

And most important, she knows the house tile by tile.

Obviously...

She ruled over this house, and over the priest's bed.

Have you seen the well?

The priest used it to chill wine for his guests.

Nice.

You should, too.

You lower them slowly into the well in a basket.

When they're ready, you pull them up,

fresh and cool, and you drink to your health.

I have two letters to send.

Can you check them right away? I want them to arrive quickly.

I'm sure you know. You write so beautifully

that I usually keep your letters for two or three days.

I gathered as much.

I like to read them slowly.

But there's a small infraction I must bring to your attention.

Really?

One of your books...

The one in French.

It's forbidden.

But Montaigne is a classic.

An author of the French Revolution.

I've every reason to confiscate it.

He's a dangerous writer.

Really?

Carmelo, what are you doing here?

Don't cry, come with Mama.

Let's go inside and I'll give you some figs to eat.

You sit here and play, and don't bother Don Carlo.

Why are you crying?

Be a good boy.

Here's some bread.

Don't want it? I'll leave it for the ants.

Keep quiet.

Giulia.

How many children do you have?

I've had 17 pregnancies.

17?

Madness.

What does your husband do?

My husband?

He gave me my first child, and then went off to America.

He took the boy with him. I never saw him again.

The children born after that never saw their fathers.

Right, Carmelo? Where's Papa?

- Here. - Papa's not here.

Only Mama's here!

America. Good for you.

They all go off to America.

Mama is both your Papa and Mama, right?

END OF PART TWO