All language subtitles for Io.Leonardo.2019.720p.BluRay.DD5.1.x264-BdC

Driven by my insatiable curiosity,

I came to the entrance
of a large cave.

And immediately I felt in me ...

fear

and desire.

Fear of the darkness around me

and desire to discover the wonders
they concealed.

Narrator: You were born in Vinci, Tuscany,

Saturday, April 15, 1452, at three in the morning.

Son of ser Piero, notary,
nephew of ser Antonio.

Your name is Leonardo.

Here you are in the only place
where you can be truly free.

The dark room of your thoughts,

the temple of your obsessions,

the companion of your solitude.

A timeless place,

where ideas take shape.

LEONARDO: Ask Maestro Antonio
how bombards and bastions are planted

in the days and in the night.

NARRATOR:
Memories materialize ...

LEONARDO: learns
root multiplication from maestro Luca.

Ask for the size of the sun

that
Maestro Giovanni Franzese promised me .

NARRATOR: And your infinite desire
for knowledge comes alive.

Because of course
men want to know.

Narrator:
This is your mind.

(LEONARDO'S PHRASES OVERLAP)

NARRATOR:
The mind of a genius.

The mind of Leonardo Da Vinci.

LEONARDO: See only the eye,
window of the soul,

embrace the beauty of the whole world?

It is the eye that all human arts
advises and corrects.

Which leads man to every place.

What measures the
height and size of the stars.

Of architecture,
perspective and divine painting,

the eye is the one and only father.

Because to understand it is enough to see well.

Narrator:
What do you see?

Where does your soul appear?

What are you looking for, Leonardo?

You have outlined your Arno valley
in an essential drawing,

like a map of your emotions.

There you learned the ability to observe,
to explore, to marvel.

There, during your carefree childhood
in Vinci,

on 5 August 1473,

nature is still your close friend.

(DROP OF WATER)

LEONARDO: Human ingenuity will never find a
more beautiful invention than nature,

because in his inventions
nothing is missing and nothing is superfluous.

The rest, which is the whole,
is made by nature,

greater teacher than you.

The water you touch from the rivers
is the last of the one that went

and the first of what comes.

So the present time.

NARRATOR:
Your childhood in the Tuscan hills

ends when you are just over ten years old.

Your father takes you with him to Florence,
but you will not be a notary like him.

He entrusts you to the master
Andrea del Verrocchio.

(CLICK CLOCK)

(BRUSIO)

VERROCCHIO: This leg is too big.
STUDENT: Yes, master.

NARRATOR: You enter one
of the most important shops of the time.

A real school
of promising talents,

Pietro Perugino, Botticelli
and many others learn the trade there,

under the guidance of the master Verrocchio.

We have been working on this "Baptism of Christ"
for too long.

Who made the hands of Our Lord?

The Dove?

This palm?

Badly done, just badly done.

Perugino, how would you picture the angel?

You, Leonardo?

Maestro Verrocchio,

I would picture him as a living angel,

with a face full of grace and sweetness,

mixing light and shadow

and with the different qualities
of all colors.

Well. The decor?

Dress light,

that move with the winds.

VERROCCHIO:
And the mountains behind?

I'd make them blend
into the color of the horizon.

Narrator: Your angel
was so graceful and bold in invention,

that Verrocchio
never again wanted to touch colors,

indignant that a child
knew more than he.

Sad is that disciple
who does not surpass the teacher.

(CLICK CLOCK)

The painter is master of all things
that can be thought of by man.

Because if he wants
to see beauties that will fall in love with him,

it has the power to create them out of thin air.

Painting is science,

grandson of nature and relative of God.

Yet I am not sure I have been able
to understand how to give to my figures

motorcycle...

and breath.

Narrator: The movement, the breath,

this you will seek all your life.

Give the soul to painted figures.

Here, in your "Annunciation",

immortalize the moment in which the Virgin Mary
receives from the archangel Gabriel

the news that will forever upset
his life.

You just need that raised hand,
between fear and consent,

to make the painting come alive.

Flowers and plants
are like fireworks

who celebrate the miracle
of the future birth of Jesus.

The water that gushes from the great mountain
fertilizes the land that blooms.

Everything is bathed in a twilight light,

which gives sweetness to the features
and depth to the landscape.

You have always been deeply fascinated
by the human body,

the proportions, the anatomy,
its secret mechanisms ...

With your own hands you dissected
over 30 corpses

to understand how it is generated and where
the energy of life pulsates .

Age is given by the state of the arteries.

When I made the anatomy
of a two year old putto,

I found everything contrary
to that of a man like this,

who was a hundred years old,

and he had arid,
dry, exhausted veins and arteries .

(BEAT OF A HEART)

The heart is the core
that generates the tree of veins.

It is major strength muscle

and very powerful over the other muscles.

(KNOCKING AT THE DOOR)

OFFICER: I notify you,
Officials, as a true thing

that Jacopo Saltarelli, aged 17,
allows people who request it

to please their miseries,
with the grave sin of sodomy.

Among these people Leonardo
di Ser Piero da Vinci.

Narrator:
The episode of your sodomy arrest,

occurred after an anonymous complaint,

it is a dark shadow
that stretches over your waist.

You reject it,

looking for the scientific reason
even for the mechanisms of desire.

Everything for you must be rigorously investigated,
even the secrets of your sensuality.

LEONARDO:
Sometimes the rod has intellect for itself

and even if the will of man
wants to provoke him, he is obstinate,

and does it by itself.

Other times moving by itself,

without license or thoughts of man.

(FIATONE)

Studying and drawing are
the only safe haven for me .

Only to them will I have to dedicate myself.

Only to them.

(BEAT OF A HEART)
(CLICK CLOCK)

Who does not know how to keep
his will in check,

with the beasts he accompanies.

Pleasure and Displeasure are drawn together

since one is born from the other.

With your backs turned,

since they are opposed to each other.

But united in the same body,

since from the same source they arise.

If the figures do not reveal
their mind with their limbs and acts,

are twice dead,

because painting itself is not alive.

Hit yourself in the chest with the stone.

(BLOW)

Hit yourself.

(BLOW)

Narrator:
Too bad.

Condemnation.

LEONARDO:
Again.

Narrator:
Penance. Mortification.

Atonement.

Perhaps in this never concluded table,

in which St. Jerome penitent
inflicts pain on himself

to purify yourself
and reach mystical ecstasy,

you faced the shame of the complaint,
of the trial immediately,

trying to sublimate the carnal passions
through painting,

your consoler and teacher.

Perhaps that face also speaks of yours.

LEONARDO: Take a glass the
size of half a real sheet

and stop it between your gaze
and what you wish to portray.

NARRATOR: You have an obsessive need
to experiment, to discover,

to find the hidden reason for things.

Only in this way, you can finally paint.

Stand
two thirds of your arm away from the glass

and keep your head still.

Close one eye

and mark on the glass what appears to you.

And finally polish it, the glass,

dust it, place good paper on it
and finally paint it.

Narrator: In your attempt
to unify all knowledge,

you make no difference between the waves of water,
those of sound and those of light.

Now you push yourself to represent

even the powerful shockwave
of a shared emotion,

which starts from the Virgin
and Child and spreads in concentric circles

with a mystical strength,

investing all the witnesses
of the supernatural event,

the manifestation of the divine nature
of Christ.

The "Adoration of the Magi"
is a majestic work of art

which unfortunately remains unfinished.

At 30 your life takes
a new and unexpected direction.

Disappointed by Lorenzo the Magnificent,

who sends you to Milan on a
diplomatic mission as a lyre player,

offer your talents
to Ludovico Sforza known as "Il Moro",

powerful lord of the Lombard city.

You do it with what we can call
the first written resume in history.

Although, excluding the too modest
reference to your pictorial arts,

you have no concrete experience
of what you declare to your future patron.

Signore mio illustrious

without taking anything away from anyone,

I will endeavor to reveal
to Your Excellency

my secrets.

I designed bombards that are
easy to transport

and capable of terrifying
the most bitter enemy.

(EXPLOSION)

I will build giant crossbows
of extraordinary power

and covered wagons, safe, unassailable.

In the event of a battle on the sea,

I know effective means
of defense and offense.

They are also capable of creating
strong but very light bridges .

I can also work on the
bronze horse in honor of your father.

And in times of peace
I can also paint a little,

no worse and no better than others.

(CLICK CLOCK)

So, son, leave for Milan.

Yes, my father.

I want to see
the natural beauty of the world.

And do you think you will be at the service
of Ludovico il Moro

will it allow you to do it?

I cannot hope otherwise.

Lorenzo the Magnificent thinks I'm
not ready for Rome and the Popes.

Maybe because you are unreliable, slow.

Maybe because you get lost in
endless studies that never bear fruit.

My studies are slow,

but only because I am not satisfied
with stopping at the surface of things.

Who shortens the works

it offends the dedication, intelligence
and love of those who create them.

Narrator:
Ser Piero da Vinci.

The notary who could not recognize
the fruit of a clandestine relationship.

The man who thus denied you education

that your deep desire
for knowledge deserved.

The father you loved despite everything.

You arrive in Milan
as a court entertainer.

But you are determined to give life
to your ambitions.

This is the opportunity you are waiting for
and you do not intend to waste it.

Starting with the last of what you thought
were your talents.

Painting is based on perspective

and perspective is nothing other than knowing how to
figure well as the eye sees.

But I got another perspective,

which I call ...

aerial.

If in a painting you want to make
the distance between one subject and another more vivid ,

you will also have to figure ...

the density of the air.

The air that takes the blue
from the moisture corpuscles,

capable of capturing
the bright rays of the sun.

This is why the mountains,
when they are far away, appear blue.

NARRATOR: This is the intuition
you decide to experience

in your first Milanese commission.

Blend the individual parts of the painting

through the sublime invention
of the aerial perspective.

Immerse the "Virgin of the Rocks"
in a luxuriant nature,

dominated by a shady cave
full of mystery,

where Maria, the child and San Giovannino

they become part
of the environment you created.

A single organism
that breathes in unison,

in time with the heartbeat of
the Earth.

(CLICK CLOCK)

Fortunately for you and on your merit, you
continue to enjoy

of the favors and protection
of Ludovico il Moro.

Leonardo.

My Lord.

I want my favorite

have as a gift
the most beautiful portrait of a lady ever seen.

Fear not, Your Excellency.

My painting will try to figure
the virtue of such divine beauty.

LEONARDO:
Take the mirror and make it your teacher.

If you make us mirror the living thing inside,

and compare that mirrored thing
with what you painted,

you'll see if the two are alike.

Never turn your head towards your chest.

If you represent a beauty
made of right proportions,

this beauty is not mortal

and falls in love with you.

CECILIA:
Time kills beauty

and also love.

LEONARDO: Not the eternal beauty
recreated by painting.

Narrator:
Cultured, refined and beautiful,

she is the favorite of Ludovico il Moro
at only 15 years old.

Her name is Cecilia Gallerani.

You have portrayed your lady
with an ermine in her lap,

symbol of purity and chastity,

catching her in
the instant of her mental motion, of surprise.

Thus you fix forever
the emotion of a moment.

Leon Battista Alberti.

"De Re

Ae...

Building. "

lncipit.

Successfully law.

A man without letters,

that's who I am to them.

But let them accuse me, it is the truth.

Whoever hides behind the authority of
other people 's thoughts does not use his wits,

but rather the memory.

They are too ignorant to understand that
my studies are children of experience.

Because I am a disciple of experience.

And so, as a teacher, I choose her.

The palm contains four.

Therefore four fingers make a palm

and four palms make a foot.

The measures of man thus
from nature are distributed.

1,61803398874989.

The divine proportion.

1,618...

03398874989.

The magic number!

(REPEAT NUMBER)

1,61803398874989.

It is the magic number.

NARRATOR: The divine proportion,
i.e. the golden section,

the magic number used by the ancient Greeks
for the proportions of temples.

You have to study until you wake up.

Narrator: And that in nature it
is found in the curves of the waves,

in the spirals of shells,
in the shape of galaxies ...

Or before falling asleep,
in bed, in the dark.

Think of the divine proportion.

Get up, come on! Get up.

NARRATOR: After studying
the work of Vitruvius,

your intuition lies in
relating the golden ratio

to the perfect proportions of the human body.

LEONARDO: I want to understand
the universal measure of man

which is made of earth, air, water, fire,

and for this reason it resembles
the body of the earth.

A lesser world.

So much does man open his arms,

how much is its height.

From the root of the hair

up to below the chin

it is the tenth part of the height of a man.

Stop!

The space between the chin and the nose

and between the roots of the hair and the eyebrows,

it is similar to the ear

and third part of the man's face.

Boltraffio, come here.

By.

You are without proportion.

Away, away, away!

Leave me alone.

The painter must be lonely.

And if you are alone, you will be all yours.

(Four fingers make a palm,
four palms make a foot.)

(A lesser world.)

(I mean
the universal measure of man.)

(Earth, air, water, fire.)

(The divine proportion.)

(Between the root of the hair ...
Under the chin.)

(The man opens his arms so much ...)

(The divine proportion.)

(I mean
the universal measure of man.)

(Which is made of earth,
air, water, fire.)

(The divine proportion.)

Narrator:
You have won your impossible challenge,

representing the symbolic union
between art and science.

The portrait of a body
of superb beauty,

inscribed within
two perfect forms,

the circle and the square.

A masterpiece, emblem of the Renaissance,
in which human and divine intertwine.

In its harmony of forms, it
is the perfect image of man,

which becomes the center of nature
and the universe.

Fire,

king of the elements,

to punish the water above it, he
raises the flame and boils it.

Water, to obey him,

overflows.

And drop down.

But drowns and puts out the fire ...

his master.

Giacomo was still a
ten-year-old boy when he came to my shop.

It was July 1490.

As soon as the second day he was with us
I had him make two shirts,

a jacket, and a pair of pink socks.

I left the money, lire 4,

to pay for said things in the pouch
and he stole everything.

Although I was certain
of his guilt,

he indignantly refused to confess.

Thief,

liar, gluttonous and obstinate.

A scoundrel like the devil
in Pulci's "Morgante".

I've decided, I'll call you Salaì.

(DEGLUTES)
(COUGH)

(RIDE)

(SUSPIRES)

LEONARDO:
Maybe ...

Maybe there we are.

Fermo Salaì.

This ox eye
is not meant to be eaten,

but to make it anatomy.

See, so it gets hard and when we cut it it
doesn't pour out its mood.

Come.

Now watch.

Each image,

even that of the smallest object,

enters the eye upside down.

Then it is immediately overturned

and resumes the position
of the external object.

Do you understand, Salaì?

That's how an eye is made and that's how it works.

Now join the others, come on.

Go, I have work to finish.
Come on, Salaì.

NARRATOR:
Finally the time also comes

to keep the promise
made to Ludovico il Moro,

build the largest equestrian monument
that ever existed.

The colossal horse in bronze

with which Il Moro wants to celebrate the memory
of Francesco Sforza, his father.

The desires of the Moor
feed your ambition

and once again you dream of the impossible.

It is not enough for you to model the shapes
of a magnificent horse.

Your creature
must be ideal, perfect.

A steed
in the violent impetus of battle.

But how will
all that bronze mass stand on two legs ?

LEONARDO: The surge cannot be sustained,
then it will be in step.

But four times the size of natural,

twelve arms in height,

one hundred tons of bronze.

I am not afraid of the myth of the ancients.

(CLICK CLOCK)

It's been ten years, Leonardo.

Ten years that I,
your lord, have been waiting.

Where's the statue I paid you for?

- Your Excellency, listen ...
- No.

I don't want to listen.

My patience is finished

and your time too.

My lord, please.
I have found the solution.

See with your own eyes.

(KISS THE BOOK)

This will be the armor
for casting the bronze head.

There is no more time
for the glory of the fathers, Leonardo.

Charles Vlll, king of France, is
already knocking on the doors of the castle.

The bronze of the horse
will be used for the cannons.

You had your chance.

And you wasted it.

Narrator: Your dream of competing
with the great architects of antiquity

crumbles into dust.

Are circumstances always
hindering you, Leonardo?

What's in the world or in yourself

that prevents you from finishing
the quests you face?

LEONARDO: To Your Lordship
I submit and ask for help.

I am very sorry to be in need.

But I kept six mouths for 36 months

and I only had 50 ducats.

I won't say
anything more about the horse , because I know the times.

My desire is always to obey
Your Excellency.

This time I will not disappoint you, my lord.

So you my word.

Narrator:
Keep your promise.

Remove the wooden panels that lined
the great Sala delle Asse of the castle

and you decide to make magic.

With the design of tree trunks
and mulberry trees

you create a perspective illusion
capable of breaking through the vault,

turning an interior into an exterior.

Grab the sky, make it yours.

Overcoming the limits imposed by nature,

dare more than any man
has done before you.

This is yet another obsession that
seduces you and from which you cannot get rid of.

With a considerable and repeated
effort of observation,

capture and then figure in the drawing for
a moment,

in the order of the thirtieth of a second.
Like the flapping of a dragonfly's wings.

LEONARDO:
Flying doesn't mean flapping your wings.

Once you know the flight,

you will walk the earth
looking at the sky.

Because you have been there

and there you will wish to return.

NARRATOR: Finally in 1494,
12 years after your arrival in Milan,

the time has come to show
your talent.

Ludovico il Moro
commissions you to paint a mural.

A large wall of 40 square meters,

the northern one of the refectory
of the convent of Santa Maria delle Grazie.

I want to make a work

for which I can show
those to come who I have been.

This work will be a long battle.

All my knowledge will come to my aid.

Narrator:
Fill out your study notebooks.

The preparatory drawings of the apostles
are beautiful,

in pen, ink, sanguine.

For more than three years
you will dedicate yourself to this work,

making it truer than truth,

the manifesto of modern art.

(CLICK CLOCK)

The prior of the convent says you work
just two hours a day.

And sometimes you don't even touch the brush.

Are you making fun of us, Leonardo?

The prior is telling the truth,
Your Excellency.

Because, before
I paint, I have to picture the image in my mind.

Only then
can I hold the brush.

Be that as it may,

I don't see anything.

That's it, Your Excellency.

Only Judas is missing.

And if the prior still insists,
I'll use his face.

(SMILE)

All right.

If you manage to complete the feat
and make it a masterpiece,

you will have as a gift a vineyard that I own
near the convent.

NARRATOR: You
keep searching the streets for faces and bodies

that give life and truth
to your characters.

LEONARDO:
It's more than a year

that every day, evening and morning,
I go to Borghetto,

where
all the vile and ignoble people live.

Only to find a suitable face
to make the image of my Judas.

NARRATOR: The infinitely ugly,
the eccentric, the monstrous,

they fascinate you
like a face of divine beauty.

(BRUSIO)

Here it is the face of your Judas,
you have found it.

A dinner with friends.

A reunited,
acquired, extended family,

like yours, Leonardo.

Where feelings go beyond
blood ties.

Twelve men.

And their Master.

Here they are, in the likeness of the apostles
of the "Last Supper",

the faces of those human beings
you had stopped in your notebooks.

LEONARDO:
You who drink,

leave the bag where it is and turn around.

No.

Don't look towards him,

but towards the center.

So.

Instead you turn your face to that other,

surprised, astonished.

Put your hands on the table.

Look over.

Show palms open

and open your mouth in wonder.

Speak in his ear and you reach
out to hear him.

In truth,

in truth I tell you,

one of you will betray me.

Look at each other,
because you don't know who I'm talking about.

But who is it that betrays you?

Am I, Lord?

- Who's cheating on you?
- Is it me, Lord?

- Who's cheating on you?
- Is it me, Lord?

- Who's cheating on you?
- Is it me, Lord?

NARRATOR: The instant
after the betrayal is revealed.

There is an unbearable dismay,

a collective human turmoil
in expressions, gestures,

in the posture of the apostles, in front
of the words just pronounced by Jesus.

Instead of huddling around the Master,
his disciples turn away from him,

as if they fled before their time,

frightened by the words
of those they loved so much.

On the table, in an order that seems to
follow the harmony of the spirit,

there is bread and wine,
portents of Christ's sacrifice.

Jesus gives himself up to his imminent fate

opening his arms to God
and to all men.

He welcomes everyone, even Judas,

who holds
the price of his curse in his hands .

He is agitated, surrounded, alone,
by the darkness of sin.

Behind him,
Pietro brandishes the knife,

ready to avenge his Master.

You, only you Leonardo, were able
to represent human feelings

as a representation of the divine mystery.

Even today,
despite your "Last Supper"

has lost the vibrant colors
that you had chosen with care and science,

we arrive in front of this wall

and we are moved
by the grace and mystery it emanates.

Because your apostles are alive, they
are human, it is us.

After the fall of Ludovico il Moro,
Milan ends up in the hands of the French.

Lost your patron,

and after having found shelter
in Mantua and Venice, you take refuge in Florence.

Here you continue to perfect your works
with infinite devotion.

It is impossible for you to conclude them.

Where others see perfection,

you still persist in looking for it.

Receive a new commission,
"Saint Anne, the Virgin and Child".

In this monumental
and deeply intimate work,

full of emotion, it
is impossible to look away

from the sweet smile that the Virgin
gives to her child.

An image of joy and harmony,
like a childhood memory.

Caterina Buti del Vacca, your mother,
Ser Piero's servant,

after giving birth to you
out of wedlock,

he left you to your father's family.

Only in this way could he guarantee you the means
to be nourished, cared for, raised.

Giving up on you, his son,
to give you a future.

A pure gesture of love.

LEONARDO: The child in the womb,
if he breathed, would drown.

(BEAT OF A HEART)

And the breath is not needed,

because he is quickened by
his mother's life and food.

Expenses for the death of Catherine.

Narrator: The only page in your notes
where you remember your mother.

A cold, impersonal list,

the list of expenses
incurred for his burial.

Cross bearing and posture, four shields.

For the bearing of the dead, eight shields

For four priests and four clerics,
20 scudi.

NARRATOR:
You, capable of immortalizing in painting

the subtlest disturbance of a soul, do you
face your emotions like this?

Are you scared of being human?

What are you defending from?

For the burials, 16 scudi.

(NOISE OF SWORDS COLLECTING)

LEONARDO:
You will make dead men covered with dust.

Others who, dying,
grit their teeth and roll their eyes.

(NITRITE OF A HORSE)

You will make the dust
that mixes with the blood

and turns into red mud.

NARRATOR:
In 1502, you spend a few months

at the service of one of
the cruelest tyrants in history, Cesare Borgia.

La names of the Architect of
the General lngegnero TI lusinga;

it deludes you that you can finally carry out
the plans for your war machines.

But the experience is excruciating.

I also found a trick
to survive underwater,

but I don't want to write it

and make him an instrument
for the evil nature of men,

who would use it to attack ships

and drown them at the bottom of the sea
with all the men in it.

NARRATOR: Youthful fantasies become
terrible realities of death and pain.

You can't stand it. You have to escape.

Save me from discord,

war is bestial madness.

NARRATOR: When in Florence
the Gonfaloniere Pier Soderini

asks you to paint
the "Battle of Anghiari"

in the Grand Council hall
in Palazzo Vecchio,

bring as a dowry everything you have seen
and that has upset you.

Maybe, just by picturing the horror
you witnessed,

you will be able to get rid of it.

LEONARDO: For the work at the Palazzo
I chose an ancient technique,

pitch and pigment
mixed with linseed oil.

The heat of the embers
was to fix the painting forever.

But below

the fire dried the color,
while above, for the great distance,

the heat did not come

and the paint began to flow.

NARRATOR: The "Battle of Anghiari"
melts before your eyes

consigning
his desperate fighters to oblivion

and getting lost forever.

LEONARDO:
On the 9th of July 1504,

Wednesday at 7,
Ser Piero da Vinci died,

80 years of age,

notary of Palazzo del Podestà,

my father.

Narrator:
Ser Piero da Vinci, your father.

That same father who even before
dying recognizes you as his son,

that same father
who leaves you nothing,

if not the shadow,
increasingly faded, of his memory.

(CLICK CLOCK)

Yet, even though
you may not have known it at the time ,

you have to thank your father for one thing,

a fundamental meeting,
for what will happen next.

Master Leonardo,

but who was the sir
who came to visit you?

Salaì, it is
Messer Francesco del Giocondo

and my father,
his notary , sent him to me .

Mona Lisa Gherardini, his third wife,
has just given him a son.

And he wants to pay tribute to her
with a portrait I made.

And did you already ask him for a few florins
for the advance?

I'm not a money painter, Salaì!

SALAÌ: Then it will mean
that we will eat paint.

Narrator:
It was February 17, 1497.

The story of the most famous painting in the world
begins here.

But who does that face really belong to?

Who has haunted you
for more than ten years,

to the point of transforming the portrait
of a woman into an ideal image,

out of time?

LEONARDO:
I will never go back to Florence.

Now the French are the
masters of Milan.

NARRATOR: Yes, Leonardo, by
now you have nothing to hold you back.

King Louis Xll of France
demands your services in Milan.

Bring rebirth
to the most important courts of Europe,

together with your immense
wealth of studies

and the works you don't want to part with.

(CLICK CLOCK)

Master Leonardo.

(THE WORK CLEARS)

Master Leonardo ...

my name is Francesco Melzi.
My father, Girolamo Melzi, sent me.

He hopes to please you.

LEONARDO:
Who are you?

Francesco Melzi, my father sent me,

Girolamo Melzi.
He hopes to please you.

And I will be her pupil,

secretary

and scribe.

To serve you, Maestro Leonardo.

Your father
makes me a very welcome gift, son.

Light, darkness,

color, body.

Come on write.

Figure, site,

removal,

propinquity,

motion and quiet.

There will be ten of my books
that will talk about painting.

Wisdom is the daughter of experience.

All clear?

Yes, Maestro Leonardo.

LEONARDO:
Well.

Let's start.

I have many papers to rearrange,

daughters of a lifetime.

Maestro,

watch.

It is all the work of your ingenuity.

Seven happy?

Narrator:
In those cards there is everything,

a life entirely devoted
to the knowledge of all things.

But they also talk about you.

Because you, Leonardo, are
not just a scientist and an artist.

You are also a man.

(CLICK CLOCK)

Salaì, the soft hand, higher up.

To indicate.

So, immobile.

ROOM: Master,

how much longer?

Your tongue will be prevented from thirst
and your body from hunger and sleep

before you, with words,

show what the painter
shows you in an instant.

Patience, Salaì.

Patience.

Narrator:
Salaì, Salaì.

This street boy with a
sassy beauty has captured your heart.

Continuous thefts, lies, betrayals ...

every time it makes you angry and hurt
but then, invariably, it makes you forgive.

Salaì's face
returns in many of your works.

But in the "San Giovanni",
you managed to steal his soul.

A beautiful and mysterious creature,
androgynous and ambiguous.

A saint, and an evil angel
at the same time.

And in his gesture,
in his pointing to the sky,

maybe you have put your hope

in a place where happiness is not just
a dream destined to break.

At 65, put aside the ambition to
be able to insert yourself in papal Rome,

where the absolute protagonists
are Michelangelo and Raphael,

you still have the desire to change,
to learn and know.

The court of France awaits you,

where King Francis I
has requested your services,

offering you a home
near his castle.

(CLICK CLOCK)

SALAÌ: The Kingdom of France is
not for me, Leonardo.

I'll be much better in Milan.

Stay here, Salaì.

You will get used to this land,
you just have to be patient.

The King of France
himself appointed me first painter,

engineer and architect.

I can't give up on all of this.

Farewell, master.

Feelings belong to the earth.

Reason, when contemplating,
is beyond feelings

NARRATOR:
Salaì has abandoned you.

But you know how to live
in the company of an absence.

Nostalgia becomes a
living and immortal presence in your painting .

And here it is the mystery of the soul,

a subtle and very minute
vibration of light

around two shady curls.

Just a shy smile
on a woman's face,

so hard to provoke in reality,

so impossible
to represent in painting.

Serene and melancholy,

near and far,
mother and perfect stranger.

The Mona Lisa remains an
elusive creature , a mirage of desire.

This woman, with the look that follows us
from whatever side you look at,

seems to make fun of us,

unperturbed
with respect to our desire to understand it,

as the centuries pass,
the world and nature change.

Because, as you taught us,
Leonardo, painting makes it eternal.

Now you have everything
you ever wanted,

a patron who appreciates your talent,
an important salary,

time and freedom
for your studies and your paintings.

You have finally found your home.

But you can't turn off the thoughts
that tangle with each other,

like whirlpools of storm.

Why can't you find peace?

What fears do your storms tell?

LEONARDO:
Darkness ...

wind, sea luck,

deluge of water,

fiery woods,

rain...

(THUNDER)

Lightning bolts from the sky, earthquakes,

ruin of mountains,

city clearing.

NARRATOR:
Even nature becomes hostile to you.

You depict it as terrible, destructive,
impossible to govern.

The more you know, the more you would like to know.

But it is not possible,
for a simple man, even if great,

decipher the design of the world.

LEONARDO:
What I know is a lot,

but what I don't know is too much.

(TUONl)

Age advances

and the time that remains,

little bit.

When I believe learning to live,

I will learn to die.

Like a day well spent

gives happy sleep,

so a life well spent

gives happy to die.

Etc.

Why the soup gets cold.

(TUONl)
(CLASSICAL MUSIC)