All language subtitles for The.Hawks.And.The.Sparrows.1966.720p

♪ Alfredo Bini

♪ presents

♪ the absurd Totò,

♪ human Totò,

♪ mad Totò,

♪ sweet Totò

♪ in the story:

THE HAWKS AND THE SPARROWS
♪ (evil fowl and cute birdies)

♪ told by Pier Paolo Pasolini

♪ with the innocent,

♪ the sly,

♪ Davoli Ninetto

♪ Found in the streets of the world
were all the other actors,...

♪ from Femi Benussi,
to Vittorio Vittori.

♪ In the sad merry-go-round

♪ in the glad merry-go-round

♪ Luigi Scaccianoce architected
(Production Design)

♪ Danilo Donati primped
(Costume Design)

♪ Nino Baragli snipped and rearranged
(Film Editor)

♪ Ennio Morricone musicked
(Composer)

♪ Mario Bernardo and Tonino Delli
Colli photographed (Cinematography)

♪ Fernando Franchi organized
(Production Manager)

♪ Sergio Citti helped philosophically
(Assistant Director☻)

♪ A small troupe, in the
hinterlands, vagabonded...

♪ only, among the farms and hamlets
they went at each other's throats.

♪ by producing he risked his position:

♪ Alfredo Bini

♪ by directing he risked his reputation:

♪ Pier Paolo Pasolini
♪Translated by♪ XQ2☻♥

Where is humanity headed?
Search me!

Gist of an interview of MAO
by Mr. Edgard Snow

You don't mess with the moon.

Who says? Why not?

Because it sulks, then you need
to wait for the high tide.

What's this high tide?
What causes it?

Ever seen the garbage
the sea brings onto the sand?

- What causes that?
- Search me!

The moon has a gravitational force

due to which, water rises.

Hey, pop, I really like
mom's new dentures!

They cost me enough! They're not the
'austerity measures' teeth of yore.

They're made with real teeth,
She's fanatical about them. Nngh!

Papa, see how she locks them in the dresser?
Scared that Grampa will steal them.

By the way, did you remember
to spray DDT in the stable?

- No, Papa, I forgot.
- Dammit!

No, papa, It's not my fault.
Loony Giuseppina was on her balcony

with breasts out too here.
Too bad you weren't there.

I don't give a fricking damn!
I care about the stable.

Those poor cows, eaten alive by flies!
You need to be coscientious!

That's why those poor cows
moan all night long.

Mmm, mmoo!

A Cinzano and a soda pop,
how much?

One Seventy.

Hey pop, she doesn't put out.

Go, go have your drink.

You wanna learn?

Hell yeah!

Gotta count your steps,
or you'll never learn,

Come on, one, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

Guys, the bus!

Listen...

Tell me something,

do you comb your hair
with a vacuum cleaner?

VIA BENITO TEARFUL Unemployed

Papa, I got stuff to do,
I told you. No kidding.

Yeah, yeah!

- What happened?
- Search me!

- Wedding?
- Search me!

Who were they? Who were they?

Whats'is name, Martucci...
the rubbermouth and his wife.

I'm going to see my friend.
Back in 5 minutes.

Make it quick.

VIA ANTONIO SCARFNOODLE
Street sweeper (pun: fucker)

VIA LILLO BLANKET-RIPPER
Ran away at age 12

Hello.

You look like an airplane.

Why'd you come?

I'm trying out a friend's Fiat 600.
Shoulda seen me fly!

He was so scared!

'Course. You're nuts!

Why are you dressed like that?

Hmph! It's the Feast of Mary

and there's a play
at the kindergarten.

Looks cute on you.

Why don't you come dancing on Sunday?

Mm... No!

Like, I give a damn!

Well, if you pick us up in the 600...

I can't, my friend's taking it
to a mechanic.

To soup it up,
turn it into a rocket!

Then, I'll zoom by, vroom!

You won't even see me!

You know, they saw you
with another girl at school.

Sure, I ran into her, we talked.

Sure, talk! You went to the meadow,
she told me herself.

What meadow?!

We passed that way
because it was late

and her father would beat her.

YOU know what I mean, huh, huh?

Ciao, Nino.

What?... What?

Go! Go away,
I never wanna see you again!

Will you gimme kiss?

The cop who saw them, said
they were filhty with vomit.

He was on the bed.

She was lying in the hall,
her hands stetched out to the door.

Hey pops, if you ask me,
life is nothing.

Oh sure, death is much.

When you're dead,
everything you had to do,

is done.

Hey pop, I think a lot
about death.

I mean, how does someone die?

Slowly, he breathes and goes,...

Why can't he just keep breathing?

All of a sudden he can't go,...

Is he aware, that he can
no longer go,...?

How can he sense
whether he's alive or dead?

[ Horns gesture: averts bad luck ]

Go, ask somebody else!
Have I ever died, before?

Hey pop, I'd like to be a parrot
so I could live 2 or 300 years.

If a rich man dies:
"Here lies one loaded with cash.

"The richest man in the cemetery."

Imagine, what a bummer for him!

Blessed is the poor wretch,
because few know he died.

They write:
"One died... Next!"

Not even that!

For a rich man, dying is like
paying the tab for life.

Sure, he pays!
But life gave him something.

Whereas the poor wretch pays,
but, got nothing from life.

What does the wretch do?
He passes from one death to another.

Friends, where are you going?

So, friends,
where are you going?

- What did you say?
- I never spoke!

So, I'm hearing things, now?

Don't you want me
as a fellow traveller, huh?

Who is it?

Pop, look who it's, the crow!

The road begins
and the journey is already over.

Sure, I won't bother you
if I tag along?

No, doc, it's a pleasure.
Right, pop?

Since we're sharing a
stretch of road,

can you tell me where
you're headed?

Down there.

That's rather vague!
Where, over there?

Eh, down there.

- I bet I can guess.
- Guess, then.

You're going to a photographer

to take the boy's ID picture,
for his new job at Fiat.

- No.
- No.

Did that last week.

Going to your godfather's,
for his son's baptism.

- No.
- No.

He's a damn good guesser,
though!

Just yesterday, we went to the
baptism, at Torre Liscia. - Oh, right!

Are you a prophet, doc?

Prophet? I wish!

Either prophet, or policeman!

Hahaha!

Let me think.

So... then...

You're going to a fortune-teller,
to get medicine for Ninetto

who has a tapeworm.

Getting warm. Warmer. Hot!

Excuse my insistence,
won't you tell me you're going?

I told you, down there!

Down where?
Right, left, straight ahead?

Down at the end!

Excuse me, I've never seen you around.

Where are you from? Who are you, sir?

I come from far away,

My country's called Ideology,
I live in the capital,

the city of the future,

on Karl Marx Street,
number 70 times 7.

- And we're in Trashburg,
- On Starver Street,

- Number 23.
- At the foot of Mount Miasma.

World famous for
the martyrdom of St Illiterate!

Oh, Go...

Oh, Godda...!

This sun's starting to heat up.

It's cooking my brains.

Ayi! Hmm!

Hey, pop, why don't we have a
nice nap, in that meadow? Ahh!

Keep walking, you skunk!

C'mon, you feel like it too!

Huh? Huh?

I have two calluses,

one on my little toe,
one on my big toe,

that are giving the
torments of purgatory.

Lucky you,

Lucky, my eye! With
this poverty, hmph!

Yes, lucky. Blessed, even!

Why, blessed?

Blessed, because you stroll,
about the suburbs, like lords.

You go into little cafes at 8: am
with workers and the morning sun,

and steal kisses from
girls dressed as angels,

and you discuss life and death with
the first words that come to mind.

But... I, on the other hand

Don't you have parents,
family, anyone?

Um, my parents are Mr. Doubt
and Mrs Conscience.

Well, I'm Ninetto!

Son of Innocenti, Totò and Semplicetti, Grazia.
[Innocence, totality, simplicity & grace]

Your innocence, simplicity

and grace are religious.

Religion is the power that
leads you step by step

along the road, unknown to all.

Whether you're farmers or
workers, is not important.

A road that takes you far away

where all the world's roads meet...

Speaking of religion, I'd like to
tell you a little story, if I may.

Sure, you may.
You may, and how!

Just to while away the effort
of this long walk in the sun...

Get a load of him!

May I? May I?

Good idea!

This story I want to tell

is a strange story about
evil fowl and cute birdies.

We're in 1200 AD.

Reference to events or people of our
time is not at all coincidental.

You who don't want to know,

who live like murderers in the clouds,
bandits in the wind

who live like madmen in the sky,

you who have your law,
outside the law,

and spend your days in a world
at the feet of the world,

who know no work, and dance
at the massacre of the great.

We may know you only through God

because our eyes are too
accustomed to our life,

and can no longer recognize what you
see in the desert or in the widerness

rich only in progeny.

We need to know how to
reconceive you; what you are

to witness Christ to
to the withered faithful,

with your joy and pure strength,
such is faith.

Therefore I charge you,
Brother Ciccillo,

and you, Brother Ninetto,

to continue preaching to the birds.

And I say to you it is appropriate to start
with two very different classes;

from hawks, which are bullies,

to sparrows, which are humble.

Praise the Lord.

Amen.

What are you doing
with a slingshot?

Throw it away and
say a Hail Mary!

These saints, though, pretend a lot!

Heh, heh!

Like it's an easy thing,
talking to birds!

Yeah, that's what I say!

Shut up, you.

You think he took ME
for a saint?

Yeah right, with that mug?!
A saint?!

Why, what's wrong with my face?

Brother Cicci, let's do this;

we go back to St Francis and
tell him we're not capable

and he should send
someone else, huh?

I'll give you such a smack!

Or, you know what?

We'll visit the farmers we
saw yesterday who gave us

that great ricotta
We'll eat and sleep with them.

In a month we go
back and tell him:

"Brother Frankie,
the birds want you"

No... we're not saints,

we're human men.

But, by the Lord's grace,
we have a brain.

And so Brother Ciccillo
and Brother Ninetto

set off to evangelize the birds.

So, what do we tell them, now?

Hey, it's up to you, Brother Ciccillo.

May God help you.

You know, I can't help you,

'cause I'm no good at anything.

I'll make a vow.

O Lord,

give me the strength
to remain on this spot

where I placed my knees

until I've sanctified
all the little hawks

of this fortress
and of the world

as is the will of St Francis.

Look at this guy!
What's he doing?

I dunno, must be a
Friar gone to seed.

Are you spying on Christ?

Hey, let's pluck him!

Think they'd let me be a Friar?
I don't eat much.

Hey, leave him alone!

What do you want with him?
That's enough!

Here comes, Brother Daisy!

Will you leave him alone?
Leave him in peace?

Shame on you!

You know who you're
harrassing? A saint!

A saint! A saint!

Sure, St. Chicory!

Help, Brother Ciccillo!

Pass!

Catch!

Heads up!

- Throw'im here!
- What are you doing?

Help, Bother Ciccillo!

Damn, this grass grows fast!

They were right to call us
Friars gone to seed.

It's all chicory.

There's some ivy, too, see?

Nettles, too.

Let me weed out some
of your nettles.

Shh, quiet! Quiet!

Go away! Go!

Summer came,

the season of cicadas, of nettles,

of picnics on the grass,

of tomatoes.

Autumn came,

Winter came.

It had never snowed
as much as that year.

Again the lovely season returned.

That's enough, I'm bored!

I wanna go.

What am I doing here?
I'm no good at anything.

I can't even talk to people,
much less talk to birds!

Tell me, why am I here?
To count the bugs on you?

I'm bored, I'm bored, I'm bored!

I'm going back home
to my mother.

But Brother Ciccillo
couldn't answer,

because after a year
of being silent,

his throat had rusted.

Tell me, Brother Ciccillo,
aren't I right?

What's the point of me
staying here, day and night,

summer and winter,
rain or shine,

leading this lousy life?

What's the point?

To gain Paradise, my son!

Mind if I rest in your shade?

Paradise!

I have it! I've found it!

Lord God, thank you!
I found it!

I found it!

Hawks, hawks, come, listen...

Come, listen...

Who are you?

What do you want?

We are God's creatures. We want to
speak with you, God's creatures.

God?

Who is God?

The creator of creatures.

And why did God create us?

Why did you create your children?

So, then, every one of us is God?

Don't push it! See? You show them a bit of
consideration, and right away they take advantage,

So, what does this God want from us?

Love!

LOVE...

LOVE!

Take it easy, knock it off!

Go!

Damn, that was hard work!
But we did it, at last.

I'm so happy, Brother Cicci...

For you, not for me!

Oopla!

How'd you do it? How?

Eh, God helps those
who help themselves.

Faith is for saints.
They do everything, with faith.

But I'm a man, a human man.

Here's what I did.

I said to myself,
Brother Ciccillo, hop to it!

Wrack your brain!

Faith believes,
Science perceives.

Lucky you, with such a
melon on your shoulders!

Hey? St Francis was
right to send you.

How pleased he'll be, when
we tell him all these things!

Hey! Let's have
some fun now, huh?

We earned it.

We'll play the organ in church,
a bit, to thank the Lord,

then to the farmer's house
to eat ricotta and pecorino cheese.

Remember the cellars, full of wine?
Father Ciccillo?

And we'll ask for new habits,
this one's had it. It's disgusting!

Don't you think, so too,
Brother Ciccillo?

He who faithfully serves
the Lord is always rushed.

Oh, ye of slender faith!

The hawks are done.

Now it's the sparrows' turn.

Let's go.

Fine, Brother Ciccillo,
forget I mentioned it.

Where'll we go to
convert the sparrows?

Down here!

Let's hope it's not as hard
as the hawks, my Lord.

But this time, too, I'll vow

not to move my knees
from where I've set them,

until the sparrows
have been sanctified.

And let's hope they're not...

hard-headed.

What's he doing, Mrs Weed?

I don't know, Mrs Need.
Do you, Mrs Greed?

Must be a bodily function,
Mrs Weed.

Hey brat, come here!

- What do you want?
- What's he doing?

He'll be there at least a year.

A fig tree takes a year
to grow figs.

What does a Friar grow, a beard?

You may well talk,
but he's a saint.

Do you believe that, Mrs Weed?

Who knows, Mrs Need?

What do you say, Mrs Greed?

Mrs Weed, we haven't seen yet,
if in the rain, he gets wet.

Right now, he's
converting sparrows.

But elsewhere, he's performed
a lot of miracles!

In Frattocchie he
turned wine into water

because they were drunkards.

At Zagarolo, water into wine

because he liked to drink.

At Sgurgola, he left
well enough alone.

♪ Ora pro nobis
[Lat. pray for us]

♪ Ora...

♪ pro nobis

Mrs. Need!

Mrs. Greed!

Mrs. Weed!

Mrs. Need, Mrs. Weed, Mrs. Greed...

Watermelon! Sweet watermelon!

Ricotta! Ricotta!

Ave, ave, ave.

God, give me patience!

For our answered prayers,
bless you Brother Ciccillo!

Thank God, he saved me from the wasps,
or I'd still be wrapped in compresses!

Good day, Good day,

I beg you, Lady Luck, touch
me with your magic wand.

You sure, you want it? - Yes!

- You sure?
- Yes!

- Bam!
- Ayi!

A moment's indulgence, Lord,
excuse me for what I do.

But even you, in the temple of Jerusalem, understood that

sometimes you gotta knock
some sense into'em. Enough!

Come on, Ninetto,
it's time to end this!

- No, no, no!
- Take that!

And may God forgive me.

- No, no, no!
- Oh, yes! Take that!

Jesus, what a lovely ricotta!
Take that!

All right, I'm ready.

Let us thank the Lord.

- Why is no one showing up?
- Quiet!

They don't answer.
They don't answer!

They don't answer.

Darn you to heck!

Science...

Oh sure! Science...

Faith is what we need in your case,
forget science!

Seems I didn't have enough faith.

My Lord,

I didn't have enough faith.

Father Ciccillo, can I play
a bit of hopscotch?

Why are you looking at me like that?
Just a little.

I haven't played for two years!

Go, go, my son, go.

Play, play.

What can I say?

This is a mess, anyway.
It's back to square one.

Oh, well... patience.

I found it!

I found it, I found it!

By Easter it'll all be done.

Sparrows don't speak by chirping.

What a dope I was! What a dope!

O Lord, let's hope this time
it works.

So, how did the sparrows
talk to one another?

What language had Brother Ciccillo learned

during his long meditations?

Simple, sparrows communicated
by hopping.

Sparrows, come, listen...

Come, listen...

Who ae you?
What do you want?

We are servants of the Lord,
we bring you good news.

Oh, finally! We've been waiting
for a while!

That'a good one!
You've really been expecting us?

Oh, yes. Especially in winter,

when there's not a crumb in sight
in the whole country!

Just a moment. What kind of good news
were you expecting, guys?

The news announcing
heaps of millet and wheat.

Ayi! Oi! How hard I have to work
to bring you the good news!

So, what does this good news
want from us?

Fasting!

What? What did you say?

Fasting, but not starving.
We don't wanna starve you to death.

In short, a sacrifice... love.
O Lord, love!

Love...

Love!

LOVE!

Most high, omnipotent, good Lord,

how glad I am that
there's a sun!

And how glad I am
that there's water,

so that the filthy can
wash their faces!

You're happy, Brother Ciccillo, eh?

Praised be the Lord
for this jack ass,

for all these sheep,

and for this shepherd, why not?

Amen.

Praise my Lord

for this blessed world

where everyone can live.

Even those who
don't want to. - Amen.

Blessed be the fresh grass,
the nettles,

the chicory,

and those who eat it,
God glorify them!

Woe to them who
die in mortal sin

how I hate to see
those grim funerals.

Amen.

Praised be the Lord for
the happiness in our hearts

and because all you give us
is jam and tarts.

Why? Why?

You see, Brother Francis,
we converted the hawks.

The hawks, as hawks,
worship the Lord.

And then, Brother Francis,

we also converted the sparrows.

And the sparrows, too, as sparrows,

for their part, are OK with it.

They worship the Lord.

But the fact of they beat
the crap out of each other.

They kill each other.

What can I do, if there's
a class of hawks

and a class of sparrows

who can't get along?

What can you do?
Everything with God's help.

- What do you men by that?
- What do you men by that?

I mean, you must teach
the hawks an sparrows

what they don't understand, that
you should have already taught them.

- What?
- What?

We need to change this world,
Brother Ciccillo

That's what you
haven't understood.

One day a blue eyed man
will come

and he will say,
"We know that justice is progressive,

"And we know
that as society gradually progresses,

"a consciousness awakens,
of its imperfect composition

"and there come to light inequalities;
strident and imploring,

"which afflict humanity"

Isn't this warning
of the inequality

of classes and of nations,

that is the greatest menace
to peace?

Go and start from the beginning.

Praise the Lord.

Let's go, Ninetto,
let's begin again. Come.

Come on, son, don't lose heart.

Don't lose heart.

Buck up, c'mon! Happy!

[END OF FIRST PART]

[SECOND PART]

(If anyone has any doubt,
or was distracted

we remind you that the crow
is a left-wing intellectual

- let's say-of the era before
Palmiro Togliatti's death...)

If you'll permit me.

[NO DUMPING ALLOWED]

What am I supposed to do, here?

Tan taran tara!

Charge!

[PRIVATE PROPERTY]

Stay with me on the bus
♪ Stai con me sull'auto

We'll go downtown in the sun
♪ che col sole va in citta.

Ninetto, tell me,

What's the guy's name who
went to the moon? Gagarin?

Pops, how should I know?

How about that!

The moon seems so far away;

seems like a dream.

And yet, one way or another
they'll get there.

Can you see it? Seems to me
I'm the only one to see it.

I see it, too.

I know, I know.

Filthy delinquents!
You all come here to do it!

One of these days,
I'll shoot you!

What is this, the public toilet?

I can't watch out, all day, for people
doing their filthy business in my field!

I have young daughters!

Bring'em over!

We have laws for that
sort of thing, you pigs!

I'll could sue you!

What? It's fertilizer,
YOU oughtta pay US!

Y'know what?
Take your fertilizer home.

Sir, are you joking,
or are you serious?

I'm not joking!
Take your filth with you!

Or else, what?

Or else I'll give you buckshot, to go!
Serena, fetch my gun!

I'll kill both of you!

A joke's a joke, but now,
I've had enough!

Take that!

Serena, my gun!

Shoot! Shoot!

For a patch of land,
war broke out!

Now, you run.
Chickening out, huh?

Oh God! Mamma!

Papa, run!

♪ And the cartridge belts we wear
contain cigarette butts...

You should have done
as Gandhi did;

taken out your handkerchief
meekly put in your poop

and take it away.

That way you'd have left him
looking like a chump

on his own property.

Aah!

Aah!

It's time to put an end to wars!
We must struggle united for peace!

We must struggle
united for peace!

Is no one home?

Are you all dead?

Resuscitate yourselves!

By Jove!

Where are you holed up,
you leeches?

Shh!

What the heck are you doing up there?
Can't you answer?

Shh!... Quiet! Silence!

Speak quietly. Hello.

Speak quietly, or
you'll wake my kids.

- At this hour?
- Make yourselves at home.

Mamma!

Mamma!

Go to sleep, it's still night.
Sleep.

Cut the preliminaries!
Give me the money,

or I hand this over my lawyer,
and we'll see what happens!

Atta boy, Papa!

Signor Marcello, you see how thing are.

We're left with nothing.

Have patience.

Last time, we gave you our pig.

Before that, you took
the woollen mattresses,

bedside rugs, and all.

This time, what can we give you?
We have nothing left to give.

You eat swallow's nests, ma'am?

The Chinese! The Chinese!

The Chinese!

Mamma! Oh, mom!

Sleep, it's still night. Sleep.

It's a shack...

but, with the surrounding land,

we'll recover our money,
just the same.

No, not the house!

For pity's sake, not the house!
Not the house!

The house, yes!
The very thing!

Atta boy, Papa!

Mamma!

Mamma!

Sleep, it's still night. Sleep!

For four days I've kept the kids
in bed without food.

For four days I've been
telling them it's night.

Because when they get up,
they want to eat.

What can I feed them, sir?

Madam, I don't know
what to tell you.

I can do nothing about it.

Pray to the Madonna,
rather than prey on me.

"Business is business"!
Is that clear?

Ninetto, let's go.

After you.

Well, got something to say?

You talk only when
you feel like it?

If you have something to say,
say it to my face.

Anyway, I'm still right.

I won't say you did wrong.

I simply say,

watch out that a bigger
fish doesn't eat you.

The nest is served.

- Good day.
- Good day.

Pardon us, Sir,

but could you give us a hand

to push this Cadillac
which just won't move.

You may say there are four
of you, all able-bodied,

but no. No!

There's this one...

who, forgive the expression,
has hemorrhoids.

This other, you can see for yourself.

For the lady there's no
need for explanations.

As for the third,

The young lord,

just this morning had
a manicure,

and doesn't want to ruin his hands.

Fine! As long as it's quick.

[FLYING SPECTACLES]

1, 2, 3. Push, Ninetto!

- Push yourself, Papa!
- Rude boy!

To start this car we'll need
the hand of God.

Anyway, I thank you for
your collaboration.

May I present myself,
Pasquale Prettylobes.

Cyrus Cutie-pie,

Jimpeccable

Urganda the Unknown,

Hannibal the Vegetarian,

and these are my little kids.

Paysthepiper, called "Pip".

Colgatewithgardol, called "Col".

Do you have calluses?

Don't remind me, blessed negro.

You know those guys
who walk barefoot

on burning coals?

To burn off the spirits of death?

From your neck of the woods,
I think...Well, I'm worse off.

I have miraculous remedy.

Aw, never mind him,

he uses that remedy
only for himself.

He's guards that cream jealously.
If he were to part with it

it's only for those who
don't mind spending.

I am a man of some means.

If it's not too big a sacrifice
for me, name your price.

Five thousand.

They agreed on one thousand

People! People! People!

Look at all the people!

[HOW ROME RUINED THE WORLD]

It's the year 2000 and they still
do such things, poor buggers!

What happened?

I knew it!

Hurry, pops! I think she's
about to give birth.

I'll box you ears!

At your age, you shouldn't
be looking at this!

Hot water! Hot water!

What for?

I oughta know what for,
I've had 18, kids!

Hot water!

(She could waited...)

Hot water, guys!

Another mouth to feed,
long live, Mary!

It's a girl, Jesus lives!

Applause for the mamma!

Brava!

Well done! Atta girl!

Encore!

Whew!

Now, the next church you come to,

you leave her out front.

Yes, yes. What shall we call her?

No one wanted her,
no one expected her.

She wanted to come, anyway!
Let her be "Welcome"!

Yes, Welcome, Welcome!

Welcome.

Welcome, I like it. Welcome!

What are you laughing at?

Do you know what's in
the can? Read it.

Who can read, anymore?

I haven't read
anything for 40 years.

What does it say?

What's written on the can?

- I don't understand it!
- Just read.

I don't understand any of it!

Anti... anti-fecundative.
(Contraceptive)

They sold you 'anti-callus',
which was really

expired contraceptive.
Those wretches!

What? Wretches?!
You laugh at others misfortunes?

What does it mean, if a pomade
is anti-fe... Anti-whatever?

Don't you know?
How many kids do you have?

Eighteen, why?

If you'd used this medicine,
you wouldn't have all those kids.

Get a load of him!
Why shouldn't I have?

Over half of the beings
composing this progressive humanity

are in a state of suffering,
both ignoble and intolerable.

They suffer hunger.
Hunger, literally.

And it'll only get worse.

The more kids you have, the more
hunger grows, don't you think?

Use your wives more
judiciously, dammit!

Carmen, Carmen!
♪ Carme, Carme!

You alone are not enough, I'm gonna need three
♪ Tu sola nun ma basta, me ce ne vonno tre, Carme!

Carmen
♪ Carme!

I'm of sturdy stock, I can satisfy all three
♪ I' song'e bona pasta, v'accuntento a' tutte' e tre. Carme!

Carmen!
♪ Carme!

I don't do it out of spite, believe you me.
♪ Io nun'o faccia apposta, e tu chesta ll'he 'a sapè, Carme!

Carmen!
♪ Carme!

It's just that I'm bone headed as can be!
♪ Io tengo a capa tosta, tosta, tosta comm'a chè.

It's just that I'm
bone headed as can be! ee, ee...

It's twilight...
The twilight of great hopes.

Those pitiful con men will be first
to be left in the shadows.

Hopefully in the company of
Rossellini and Brecht.

Whereas the workers will continue
to advance in this twilight.

Ideologies are passé!

Here's one who continues saying,
God knows what,...

to men, going, God knows where.

1st CONVENTION OF
DANTEIST DENTISTS

Professor Ottovolante;
women think he's extraordinary,

but in reality he
inferred all his material

from a miscellany of Danteist studies
by the English professor

Fred Efamen
(cold and hungry)

published in Oxford in 1933,

This Fred Efamen, among other things,
is the author of the novel,

'Bloody Underpants
at Scotland Yard',

which was the source of
all of James Bond.

Please, what can I do for you?

We'd like to speak
with the Engineer.

Please, come in.

Oh God! Mamma! Lions!

Calm down.

Be good. Be... polite.
Ninetto!

Pops, he could eat me
in one bite!

You don't know anything!
This is customary among the gentry.

What's so strange about it?

What have I got to do
with the gentry?

If your father's involved,
so are you.

Good day, Engineer,
excuse me if I don't get up.

I imagine you're here
to fulfil your obligation.

Today's the 25th,

the final deadline,
if I'm not mistaken.

Well, that was my intention.

Let me explain.

All that snow we had,

ruined 2 hectares of my broccoli,

and I didn't make a single Lira.

Then this wretched boy, here...

every Sunday, he swiped my
tractor, to go to Mass.

But since he's not
such a good driver

one Sunday,

he smashed a Fiat 600 to bits!

I had to pay, no?

Another expense!

And then, I have 18 children...
you know how it is.

The only one of them who could've
helped me out; this moron

got the calling,
and became a Capuchin monk!

Huh?

Engineer,

this wild animal...

I'm just a businessman.
I do business. I care about business.

So, give me the money or I'll have you
put in jail, without batting an eyelid.

See? You and your mother,
don't believe I'm in a pickle!

Excuse me, Sir.

I'd prepared a lovely bouquet
of roses for Madam Engineer,

but I forgot it at home.

I'll bring it another time.

My regards, Engineer.

Ignorant dolt!

They're still the same.
Nothing can change them!

Papa!

Papa!

Where are you running to?

Where are you going, dammit!
Where?

Run!

Coming!

Run, come on, papa!

Wait!

Run, run, papa!

I'm coming!

Hurry, papa! It's leaving!

Here I am!

♪ Tick-tock tam!

♪ Ticky tick-tock tam!

♪ Ticky-ticky tick-tock tam!

Oh well, patience!

We'll catch the next one.

Let's sit on that mound.

Hey pops, that crow
is a good person.

I didn't believe him, but see?

He's right to badmouth
those buffoons.

The only decent one was the guy
with the beard, who went: ta ta taa..

I think he may be part crow!

Hey pop, when I get in at the factory,

the first time we strike, I'll go to
the Engineer and kill all his dogs,

That'll teach him!
You coming too, papa?

Wouldn't miss it!
I'll come and: ta-ta-ta-ta...

Let's go, Ninetto.

I'm not even gonna ask you
where you're going anymore.

I sense we're nearing the end

and I, who know so many things,
will never understand this:

The road begins...

and the journey is already over.

What are you doing?

Looking at the swallows.

What's your name?

Luna.

100 meters farther on...

Help! Ayi, ayi, my belly!
What can it be?

Oh God, it can't be!

Again? My stomach hurts.

I hear it going "glug, glug" inside.

Oi, oi, oi...

I can't hold it in.
Be right back.

Hey, brunette!

Brunette!

Hey, brunette!

(Come... Here.)

Oh Luna, the things you make me do!

Let's go down there.
It's a nice spot.

All newly mown hay. An aroma
like you wouldn't believe,

What did you eat, today?

Actually, we haven't dined yet.

I had dinner at my sister's,
steak with pan fried spinach.

What did I tell you?
Can you smell it?

Hmm...

Ah!

Now I feel better, let's go!

Ayi, oi oi!

My guts are churning!

Seriously, what did we
eat that was so bad?

I can't stand it.

Wait a minute,
I'll be real quick.

Where are you going, idiot?
Come back!

Hmm... hm!

Hey, Luna!

Hey, Luna!

Hoh! Are you deaf?

Luna, I'm his son.

I figured.

You've got a face like a choir boy!

Damn, you got great tits!

Better than
Mary-lean'em-out-the-window.

Who?

Someone, me and my
friends hang out with.

But she's really old.

A stomach like this!

One skinny leg and one fat.

She hardly has a nose, at all!

She has eyes and a mouth.
But a nose? Who knows?

I make you laugh?

I like people like you.

Your father had me
in stitches, too.

Everything OK, doc?

Eh, heh!

"Professors should be eaten
with hot sauce,"

Giorgio Pasquali said,
"But whoever eats and digests them

"becomes a bit professorial himself."

Hey pops, I feel better, let's go!

You...

Don't eat any more of that stuff,
it's bad for you!

So many problems to speak of,
on the subject of whores!

And the crow began again
to speak and speak and speak...

God, country, family:
once I'd have railed against them.

Today it's not worth the trouble.
Or perhaps...

I'm finished.

My time is up.

My words fall in the void.

Don't think, Signor Totò,
that I weep

for the end of
what I believe in.

I'm sure, someone
else will come,

to take up my banner
and carry it forward.

I weep only for myself.

It's only human, no?

When you feel
you don't count anymore.

(Nino, Nino.)

(What? What?)

Excuse us, master crow.

I must have a word
with this imbecile! Move!

- I'm gonna eat him.
- What?☻

- We're gonna eat him.
- What?!

If we don't eat him,
someone else will.

What's he got to live for?
He seems demented, even.

Right, I'm fed up with him.

It'll teach him to meddle with people.
How will we eat him?

In the style of ancient bards,
who ate the figs and tossed the shards.

Eh!

Darn it all to heck!

♪ Dear friends

♪ as always

♪ It ends like this, begins like this,
closes like this

♪ continues like this

♪ this story of

THE HAWKS AND THE SPARROWS
♪ (evil fowl and cute birdies)

[END]