All language subtitles for Gradiva.1970.Eng

For a night and a day, the Arno,

that small river, etc, etc,

was the widest river in the world.

Just think, with a tea strainer, he was
searching in the mud, tiny bits of colour.

Christ died, there was
nothing more to do.

All that was left,
wood and a wafer.

They're pulling out a relief.
Are you coming? - Right away.

Shall we go?

It's worth nothing, the original.
Just imagine this, a relief.

I'm the Superintendent of Fine Arts.

Excuse me,
I don't suppose you know, Duran?

It's Dr. Hanold, of Munich.

An archaeologist.
- Ah, the great Hanold!

The great Hanold was my father.
He died 4 years ago.

See? It moves: it's human.

There's always a little magic,
they say, in masterpieces.

It's not a masterpiece.

Late Greek academicism.
Mediocre work. A craftsman's piece.

Then, I don't understand
why it excites you so much.

I don't really know.
Maybe because it's true.

And modern.

Look! Here's all my father's stuff.

Arcadia, nymphs, mythology...
Always a great effort to idealize.

To transfigure. You see?

This is a portrait taken from life.
A photograph in stone.

A snapshot of Gradiva.
- Gradiva?

Yes, that's what I call her.
For how she's walking. See?

Simple and solemn.

It put in mind Mars Gradivus
when he starts fighting. Do you know?

Not really.

Advancing, in fact.

I can't understand,
how else it struck me. Look.

See the movement of the foot?

Walking this way.

She's...

agile and alive.

Here! This is your job, Karl.
Is it normal to walk like that?

I wouldn't know...

Frankly, Norbert, I don't see
anything so extraordinary.

But don't you see,
it's almost a 90° angle?

Walking normally, at most, the angle
is 45°. I'm sorry, we must do a test.

See?

It's not possible. I catch myself.
- Yes, Norbert.

When one stretches the metatarsal joint,
especially in people... - Wait a minute!

Yeah, but why?
Where's she going?

And if one saw something, suddenly,
on one's way, a snake, for example,

one stops and the foot behind
remains suspended.

No, you can't! Look.

If she sees something that scares her,
her weight flows onto her back leg.

Who is it? The Nobel Prize?
- Yes, my father.

In my opinion, it's a dance step.
Check it out.

Think so? I don't see it.

It's too functional,
the position of left hand.

And if it were a sacred dance,
a ritual?

You know who she might be?
A priestess. Sure.

Maybe accompanying a coffin.

Her father, for example.

It would explain her step,
rhythmic, ritualistic...

And if it were simply
a case of traumatic arthrosis?

What vulgarity, Karl.
How could you think such a thing?

Do you think she would have that grace?

Look, Norbert.
Let's say that the artist...

the author, completely bereft
of anatomy,

has abandoned himself
to his imagination, an impulse.

Want some?

A splash of whiskey? - No, milk.
- Yeah, I forgot.

You drink only milk, like a child.

According to him,
women walk so.

Or, it's a problem
he didn't want to consider.

You know...

I've never noticed
how women walk.

As you know, Professor Schull,
professor of this chair, died yesterday.

I am replacing him,
reading some of his notes.

This sketch is a plan of the "Tomba
della Mula", located near Florence.

Now, if we close the windows,
we can see some slides.

In Sesto Fiorentino, they've recently made
some great archaeological discoveries.

Like ancient graffiti
and many tomb artefacts.

The grandeur of the monument,

leads us to suppose that it may be
a tomb of kings and priests,

the Etruscan Lucumos.

Therefore, the unexplored rooms
we've seen on the sketch,

perhaps still intact,

could disclose tomorrow
to archaeological exploration

a treasure like the
Mycenaean of Atreus.

The name of the tomb, "Mula"
confirms this hypothesis.

Apart from the legend of a golden mule
that would be buried in the tomb,

"Mule" in Etruscan means "gift."

That is, offered by the community to
the Lucumos, always alive beyond time.

The Etruscan tomb was the true house,
the true mother of eternity.

Inside, lives mystery...

resides the hope of man.

There must be a mistake.
It's something else.

It's a house from Pompeii.
Excuse me.

But I assure you!
It was him, Norbert.

Naked! In the middle of the road.

Well, who knows. Maybe he...

I was excited. - Really?

Good morning.

Well, I maintain
that he was always an authority.

Shall I tell you my opinion?
Schull was just a jerk.

Yes. Of learning, zero.
- What time will it be?

Bertgang will take advantage
to make his usual kilometre speech.

Since he no longer teaches, he lets rip.
Let's hope we've got the wrong funeral.

I dreamed last night.
- Of who?

Gradiva.
- Do tell!

I give the floor to Professor Bertgang,
Rector of our University.

Friends, we are gathered here today
to pay tribute to Professor Paul Schull,

noble lecturer
who honoured our university.

Distinguished scholar,
whose works are known

far beyond the borders of our institute
and also of our country.

It is granted to me,
having had for the last 25 years...

a friend and colleague
at the Faculty of Philosophy,

to pay tribute to the memory
our missing friend.

I saw her die before my eyes.

Petrified, becoming an element
of a cosmic eternity,

where nothing is lost.

What a suggestive idea...

Now or 1,900 years ago...
the same thing.

Imagine if there was a chance
to establish a relationship, a contact.

I don't know...
also in a fantastic form.

I hope that one day

one of my own colleagues
can repeat in front of my grave

the words that I say now
over that of Professor Schull.

You have not lived in vain.

Thank you.

In my name and on behalf of all those

who were lucky enough to have
Prof. Paul Schull...

Goodness, that formal speech!

One knows only too well that Bertgang
and the others don't care about Schull.

Who was this Schull? I don't remember
him. - You really don't remember?

And another thing worries me a bit.
I saw that foot in the street.

I know. Alina Holt saw you,
Stark's assistant. She's quite a gossip.

Why don't you go chat with Werner
someday. I already mentioned something.

He's there. You know him, right?
- Oh yes.

Thank you.

What especially excited him,
was training, both human...

and moral.
- Werner?

You think I'm crazy?

But Werner is a psychologist.
He's not bothered with crazies.

At this moment
of farewell and mourning,

when those of dust
return to dust,

the soul unfolds
in the hope of the resurrection.

In the end is the beginning.

Sufferings are redeemed in Christ,
who washes our sins and wounds.

Death is swallowed up in victory.

O death, where is thy sting?
O hell, where is your victory?

The sting of death and sin,

and the strength of sin is the law.

But, thanks be to God,

who gives us victory
through our Lord Jesus Christ.

I only have a few words to say.

Science, that first my father,
and then...

and then Prof. Schull
have taught me to love,

has brought me in close contact with
things of thousands of years ago.

Things that should be dead.

Where you, perhaps,
see death, not me.

It's completely crazy.
- Shut up! Look!

Death is a wedding,
a misterium congiutionis

and on the Etruscan tombs,
joy is represented by convivial scenes.

On Greek sarcophagi,
by dancing girls.

So, this girl who descends...

This girl who descends...

to Hades.

Forgive me...

I'm sorry!

Prof. Bertgang.
- See you in a moment.

So... This is not only
an excess of imagination, I think.

Did you see?
I told you there was something ...

But then I don't understand
what happened.

He was telling me of a dream during
the ceremony. A dream he had.

Suddenly, that attack of bla bla bla...

This dream is very interesting.
What kind of dream was it?

He says he has dreamed of Gradiva, alive,
during the eruption of Pompeii in 79 AD.

And then he saw her petrified.
- And that incident from Lina Holt?

That she saw him in the street,
in pyjamas... Is it true?

Yes, he told me about it.
It was this morning, after the dream.

He had the impression of seeing,
he's sure, indeed,

a girl who was walking like Gradiva.

Well, he's ... Good morning.
He's falling in love with her.

With a girl of stone?
- For this, I'd say, it's not dangerous?

Of course this... this Gradiva
has awakened in him memories,

of remote erotic feelings.
- Yeah, but why the foot?

This could be a pretext to mask.

Unconscious, of course. Behind the apparent
scientific interest there's something else.

You understand?
I've not misrepresented.

You told me that his mother died during
childbirth? - Yes, he never knew her.

Here, the maternal image for him
is that of a woman who died young

known only in photographs, probably.
- And the father?

His father has imposed himself
as the only model to imitate.

Has completely blocked him. Love
is a frivolous thing, dirty and forbidden.

You think he's a virgin?

It's possible.

Of course women don't interest him.
Men neither, for that matter.

Those in the flesh.
But in stone, yes.

Very much, I would say.

The fact is that now every interest
is focused on one only, this Gradiva.

And since he's so imaginative,
it's taken him over.

It's a kind of delirium.

One like Norbert has all the qualities
to be either a neurotic...

or a poet. Perhaps he,
is both things together.

How are you, Karl? I ran away.
Excuse me, but I'd had enough.

Apologise to Werner too.
Now he'll really think I'm crazy.

Here it's the habit of people to abandon
themselves to the instinct to mate.

It seems there's no time to lose.

Not even in August?
- No, I want to be alone with you.

Where will you take me
when we're in Rome?

The Vatican.
- Oh, give me a kiss!

An obsession. Perhaps they are afraid
there'll be no tomorrow.

I have nothing against love.
But, vulgarity,

exhibitionism, disgusts me.

The Captain informs you
we are flying over the lagoon of Venice.

In a few moments, on your left,
you can admire the city.

From Genoa, I took a car. The best way
to see the landscape, which is beautiful.

Italy had never seemed so beautiful
and alarming. I don't know.

There is in everything I see
something provocative.

As in certain dreams...

In Lucca Cathedral I saw again
Ilaria del Carretto. So beautiful.

The images of death here, in Italy,
become art,

beauty, survival.

Do I look excited, huh, Karl?

So, this girl who descends...

This girl who descends...

to Hades.

Florence has risen, from '66.

I saw the Cimabue restoration.

How sublime!

You know that Mary Magdalene by
Donatello under the brown patina ...

Just think, the critics indulged themselves
for centuries to find expressive meanings.

It's all gold.

I wrote to Prof. Bertgang. What will the
dear colleagues at the University say.

After Florence,
I'd like to continue south.

Perhaps arrive in Greece
or maybe I'll stop in Sorrento.

In one of those old hotels,
high, overlooking the sea.

Because, around Naples...

There are things I want to see.

Oh, you know! Leaving,
I had thought of going to Kiel.

Kiel on the Baltic...
where I spent my childhood.

Then, suddenly,
the idea made me afraid.

I don't know why
and I decided on Italy.

Best wishes, Karl.

Who are you?

Thomas...

Maruha ...

Love

My love!

Excuse me, for Sorrento, please?

That way.

What did he want?

Lord, have mercy...

Lord, have mercy...

Christ, have mercy...

Come, Sir, this way.
Places in the shade.

Here, here. Turn.

Colour slides, 3000 lire.
Bring Pompeii home.

No thanks.

Look, I'd like an updated guide.

1,500.

Sir, Sir!

The necklace. Only the necklace.
3,000, Sir.

7,000 in all, the diamond brooch.
- No, please.

The diamond of death of Nocera,
dead, killed.

All real stuff, sir!
Like Romeo and Juliet.

Porn. Porn pictures.
Villa of Mysteries. Porn.

5,000. - I don't want it.
- Kama Sutra. Porn.

Hi!

Why talk those dead languages.
You're alive, right?

I knew that your voice was so.

Did you recognize my voice?
- Yes, I dreamed you.

You turned for a moment...
when I called.

And what did I say?

Nothing. You were indifferent
to everything. - But...

Sorry, if it's the first time we're talking,
how did you recognize my voice?

I don't know.

I seem to have already heard it.

Maybe I imagined it.

Many strange things happen.

But us meeting here today...

Is the strangest of all.

When I reached you in my dream,
you lay on a step, like a sacrifice.

You were very pale,
as long as the snow...

covered you.

So, I asked you in Greek if you were
here during the eruption of Vesuvius.

Ah, it was Greek. Yeah.

And who remembers it now, Greek?

So you saw me die 2,000 years ago, huh?
- Yes.

I was close to you.

In the dream, you had a beautiful face
and serene, as if asleep.

May I ask you one thing?
- Sure!

Why not lie on the step.
Please! As in the dream.

Just for a moment.

Will you come back?

Tomorrow?

Munich on the line, Dr Hanold.

Hello?
- Norbert, it's Karl. How are you?

You promised to call me.

Excuse me, I wrote you.
- Are you resting?

No, I'm travelling.

In Pompeii?

No, not at Pompeii.
Archaeology bores me to death.

Really? It's the news of the year!
- You think so?

It's that...

I have the impression of being
more a tourist than a scientist.

But I don't mind at all.

Do you think I'm close to a new
conception of antiquity.

I don't know...

As an exchange in time.

Osmosis, you physicists would say.

Interesting.

And that famous foot,
did you find it?

Well no, of course not...
Why bring it up?

I saw the relief in Rome,
the Vatican Museum.

How are you?
- I'm fine.

The last exams finished yesterday.

Look, you remember Werner?

He'll be in Naples for the International
Psychoanalysis Congress. I could too.

He thought to make a trip
up to you, there in Sorrento.

But I don't know if I...

I've made friends with people here.
- Oh, yes?

It's a day of surprises.
- They asked me along.

We'll go down along the coast.
Calabria, Sicily...

I don't know. I'll call you.

Fine. Remember that.
Have a good trip.

Excuse me, Professor.
You want to check?

Hello!

Yes, that's fine.

Now get down. OK.

Look at me.

Why aren't you really here?

Why aren't you living?

Sit down. You look tired.

Have you been running?

You've brought me a chrysanthemum.
Where did you find it?

But it's the flower of the dead!

Yesterday you told me
a curious story.

That, once you saw me
while I slept.

And you called me.

I'm confused.
Why don't you try to remember better?

Yes, I dreamed that awful night...

when Vesuvius buried everything,
Here, in 79 AD.

We were together in the house
of Loreio Tiburtino.

The dream repeated several times.

Always the same, always!

Indeed, once it was a real hallucination,
while taking a lesson in Munich.

I saw you walking on a screen.

Just like yesterday
in the Via di Mercurio.

Ah here! When you told me yesterday,
you surprised me.

I didn't expect it.

Are you sure the one in the dream
was me? - Completely!

I recognized you immediately.
- You recognized me, in a dream? How?

Immediately. By the way you walk.

Why? Do I walk in a special way?

Yes. Don't you know?

No woman walks like you.

Really?
No one has ever told me.

And when you noticed, the first time?

You knew me, then?

Or, were you alive too, in 79 AD?

No I don't think so.

And that... everything
matched in the dream

to your bas-relief of Rome.

My bas-relief of Rome, you say?

I never would have imagined.

And how is it? Where did you see it?

In Florence, the first time.

I have a copy in Munich.

In the beginning I thought
that she represented a young Greek.

Then, I became convinced
that she was a Pompeian.

The dream was a confirmation.

But I didn't realise it right away.

Now I know why I came here, to Pompeii.
- Why? - To search...

To search...
- For what?

Some trace of you.

An archaeological curiosity...

No.

Not only.

When you disappeared
yesterday, suddenly...

It was yesterday?
- Yes, yesterday!

I wanted to visit the Odeon Theatre
and then I stopped here.

And a little while ago when I saw you
here with the same attitude as yesterday

I was afraid that
it was all a hallucination.

It's very hot.
Why not take off your jacket?

I would never have imagined that
you'd have a fantasy that big.

I would never have suspected from
my meetings with you and...

Before, you said "why aren't you living?"
Were you referring to me? - Yes.

I'm pleased. Look at me!

Aren't I alive, me? - Yes.

I would like to ask you...

I would like to see you walk,
as in your image.

You have strange shoes.

Not Greek or Roman.

Well, today they're worn so.

Want me to take them off?

Should I continue?
- Yes, please.

Up, beat the time! Up!

Extraordinary! Now I'm sure.
- Of what?

That the bas-relief is a dance step.
- Really? But it's crazy!

It's identical to that?

Identical!

You scare me.

If it wasn't dirty, you could bathe.
Once here, it was full of fountains.

Do you like the sea?

I spent my whole childhood in Kiel,
on the Baltic, near the sea.

You know the land...

Kiel...

It also reminds me of something.

As if we were already there, together.

You and I.

You can't remember?

You are someone very special,
Norbert Hanold.

You know my name?
- I know many other things.

But there is also something
I don't know, unfortunately.

Why a bas-relief of almost 2,000
years ago, reminded you of me?

Because you are Gradiva.

Gradiva? Who is Gradiva?

It's the name I gave you.

It means: one who shines in
walking. I didn't know your real name.

My name is Zoé.

Zoé?

It means "life"!

Oh yes...

For an excavated object like me, Zoé is
a rather ironic name. Don't you think?

You're not an excavated object.

And what am I, then?

A reincarnation of Gradiva?
A ghost at noon?

I'm really confused.

And if I was only Zoé,

for you, it would be
a big disappointment?

But think, what a story!
We'll invent a story, huh?

We lived together in Pompeii
2,000 years ago.

Or, we were childhood friends
at Kiel, on the beach?

This story's much easier.

Or maybe not.

Now I have to go.
The realm of the dead awaits me!

What nonsense!

It's not so easy to be accustomed
to being dead. I'm sorry.

How the sun burns today!
Don't you feel it burning?

Excuse me, d'you know these people?
- Here there are many people.

Here, this, for example.

And there are also private motorboats.

No. I don't think so.

Could you accompany me to that boat?
- Wait a moment. Will you be long?

No.

All right. Take it.

How are you today in your madness?

Throw it down to give to me.

And I'll attach it to my blonde hair

to become a necklace, ponytail,

pigtails, braids and waves and

whisps of chignon,

so to play with you...

To bind you to me...

To play with you.

How you doing today in your madness?

Throw it down to give to me.

Make it a dagger, or a whip,

a trivial lie.

Mash me, bash me,

just like yesterday's paper.

And do it...

Please do it without malice.

Do it so

outrageously vulgarly.

But, where are Cinzia and Antonia?
- What do you care? Come on.

Excuse me, may I?

Would you mind if ...?
- What d'you say? Excuse me.

Oh, its the archaeologist! Hi.

What's going on here? - Where are
you going? Why run away forever?

David, help me. - Before raping him,
introductions, at least.

Good evening. I am N. Hanold.
- Delighted. How are you?

About the photos...
- You liked them?

Why not take off the uniform?

Look, David! It's Saint Sebastian.

What did you want to tell me, then?

Look at that!
- You wouldn't believe it, huh.

You know... it's not safe to drink?

Oh, wait!
- What are you doing? - Wait!

Come on, run!

ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE

No, not my thing, Renata.
Where have you been, loafer?

Come on, hurry up!

Augustine? - Here I am!

Tonight, I'd like to see in make-up.
At least, the ballet.

At 3, I'd like Orpheus. Alone.

All others ready
for the rehearsal at 8, right?

And Eurydice, don't you want her at 3?
- No, just him.

Gisela! I must talk about the wig.
After, remember.

Maestro, can you start?
- From the beginning?

The thing on your head...
I'm not that keen on it.

Tell the... what's it called?

No, not shorter. More false, more...

More exaggerated.

Lina Orfini, remember?

Roy! - Yeah?

Can we feel a bit of pantomime?
- OK. When they're separated.

Yes, just an entrance.

Okay. Come on, girls!

Live your life.

Your path is peace and love.

Your life is a beautiful love song.

Open your arms
and sing the last hope.

The hope divine,
to love in peace.

Ready, Ugo? - Right?

Go!

Are you there, Penny?

One moment more, Orpheus,

and you will be forever mine.

... singing,

who loves the beauty of love.

Like the sun,

like a flower,

like light...

Loving without lying or suffering.

If everyone in the world,
were equal to you...

Let's talk. Roy!

Come on, go!

Profile, Ugo.

On the head. Fine.

Tell me why

love for you...

is nothing other

than death

and pain.

Why not choose

life in me?

Take me...

and live with me!

With us you have

the love that you

only look for in a woman.

In our game

abandon yourself.

Ecstasy...

you'll find with us.

It's the fool from the hill!
- So pure that mad love.

Call the psychoanalyst.
- Get the kayak and call the psychoanalyst.

Prostitute! - Bitch! - Orpheus!

My love...

Orpheus, dear, what's happened?

Smile. Move your arms.

Come! Look at that beautiful colour.

No! There. Yes, here.

Slower, you're hurting me.

Are you alone?

So my father is interested in me.
Strange!

He wants to hear from me.
Since when?

Maybe to rejuvenate himself.
It happens.

Especially when he could be
a grandfather, like old Bertgang.

Yeah. My father has always done
everything to keep me away from him.

I've done all the colleges of Europe:
Florence, London, Paris...

When we meet,
at Christmas usually,

he showers me with gifts, looks forever
at me and then says every time:

"How are things at school?"
And then, off with his butterflies!

He's not a father.
He's an ancestor.

No, an ice cream, please.
- For me a coffee. And you?

It enervates me, coffee.
Wine, I prefer. - Ah, yes, here it is!

Are you here for the Psychoanalysis
Congress too? - No, nothing of the sort.

I deal in broken bones. I am orthopedist.
You want more? - That's enough.

So, what should I tell old Bertgang?

That you're well, having fun?
- Yes, yes.

Tell him that if I find him, I'll send him
the faraglionensis. - What?

It's a lizard he's searched for
all his life.

It'll make his day!

He has a house full of butterflies,
old Bertgang. - And lizards!

Do you know Norbert Hanold, Professor?

Of Munich? Yes. He's an archaeology
assistant at our university.

He was here, in Sorrento, but he left.

When? - I asked at his hotel
this morning. - It's not possible!

Why? Have you news of Norbert?
Do you know him well?

Yes and no. I knew him.

We grew up together. He lived
at our place, in Kiel, up to 10, 11 years.

I didn't know that.

Yes. His mother died in childbirth and
the Great Hanold sent him to our home.

Another fine example of ancestors,
that too.

He was my teacher, Norbert's father.
He was a great man. - Yes.

Certainly, but as a father...

And then?

I'm very interested.

And then, one fine day,
his father took him back to Munich.

And so Norbert began his career
as a great man, too.

Did you know he graduated
at 18 or 19, I believe?

Yes I know.
And he never saw me after!

He became unbearable.
Addressing me formally.

A couple of years ago, we met
by chance, at an exhibition in Vienna.

He didn't even greet me.

Not great weather, but today.
Or am I wrong?

Well then?

The other day, I bumped into him.
At the Pompeii excavations, in a house.

You met him there?

Yes, but he didn't recognize me.
He spoke to me in Latin and Greek.

He took me for a ghost,
an apparition, a spirit...

Yes! But how do you know, Professor?
- I spoke of him myself, to Werner.

I was a bit worried about Norbert.

After his last visit to Florence,
he appeared very shaken.

Yes!

I was astonished.
I couldn't understand.

Then, the thing had me curious.

He was so crazy!

I liked him, too.

And you played the ghost.

Quite well! - Of course! Only now
I'm not so sure.

This game with the statue
is starting to scare me.

He behaves like a teenager.

He's very tender, but I've tried
to let him know that I'm alive, flesh!

I've done everything.
- You've done very well!

Yeah, but it's no use.
He thinks I'm Gradiva.

What is this bas-relief?
Is it really like me? - Yes.

There's something there,
and which will remain a mystery.

But more than anything, it's Norbert
who wants the similarity. - Why?

It reminds him, unconsciously,
of the girl from Kiel,

who had a nice way of walking.

But I walk like everyone else!
- Not for him, obviously.

Look, Zoé.

In Kiel...

What happened between you?

We were very young.
A little left to ourselves.

My father was always around.
My mother I never knew.

We were together all day.

Naked on the beach.
We played. He hit me, too.

The best memories
of my life. Unforgettable.

Want to hear my opinion, Zoé?
- Sure!

I believe that Norbert, meeting you
in Pompeii, it's restarted from there.

From Kiel. - What?

Look...

I'm sure that with a part of himself,
Norbert knows

that you are her. He always knew.

Only that, at a certain point,
He wanted to forget you.

He buried you.

Pushed by his father,
forced almost,

he chose archaeology instead of
women, life, love...

He has replaced the living woman
with a woman of stone.

Then, a stone woman,
Gradiva, indeed,

has reawakened everything.

She is definitely "the woman" for him.

The only woman, I'd say.

Meeting you in Pompeii,

he recognized you immediately and ran
away. Or, he accepted you but only...

as a ghost, as pure spirit.

You've behaved so far
as the perfect psychotherapist.

In love...

Here is his advantage over us.

Why? He thinks I'm in love?

Eh, he thinks, I would say!

If you like, continue taking the game to
another level. Maybe, it's possible.

Making love...

is to rediscover each time the other.

Is not it?

In soul... and body.

I understand that it may lead to...

some risk to you.

Of course, it's a curious story.
- Yes, one could write an essay.

Gradiva revived.
Or, Gradiva recurrence of love.

Freud perhaps would have written it.

An essay without end?

That depends on you, Zoé.

I have no advice to give you.

Every adult
must choose their own destiny.

When others decide for us,
we're just children.

You know where Norbert is now?

In Pompeii, I think,
waiting for Gradiva.

Will you go?

But, isn't that the boy
from the nightclub?

I looked for you in Sorrento, this morning.
They told me you'd left.

A chair, please! Sit down.

Remember Werner, right? He's here
for the Congress. - How are you?

You know we're making an excursion
to Pompeii, today? Why not guide us?

Sit down, Norbert. Did you have
breakfast? Do you want something?

Do you know each other?
Norbert Hanold,

Zoé Bertgang.

Hello.

Why this trip to Pompeii?
- It's an idea of the Congress.

So, I should have here,
here... a program.

Let's see...

Wednesday, excursion to Pompeii.
This afternoon, in fact.

Then we have to...
Let's see...

We have to visit Paestum. Really,
There was also a technical reason.

Freud wrote an essay, wrote many things
on the relationship between psychoanalysis

and an activity very similar
to the archaeological.

Ah, yes? I didn't know this.

Yes, yes, the analytical therapy
as an excavation

into the past.
That is, quite similar to...

an archaeological dig.
- Sure, it can be.

Martin Grottmann of Beverly Hills,
has developed a very interesting topic

on the relationship between
psychoanalysis and cinema.

Speaking also of archaeology
as a visual science.

When does the Congress finish?
- Tomorrow, with another trip.

Zoé, we're going to the boat.
We're getting ready. - Yes, OK.

Giuliano went to Naples
to check the cylinders.

I hope you come back with the cylinders.
- Sure. OK. My friends, Karin...

Antonia, Peter,
Prof. Werner of Munich...

Zoé, wait!

I'll come with you.

What's the matter?
- I'll tell you later. Now there's no time.

Who is it? - My childhood friend
but he doesn't know it.

How did he find us?
Did he follow you? - I don't know.

I hadn't realized.
Because you never said anything?

There he is! - Where?

Oh yes! There he is!

He's been there.

Where's the boat?
- Down there.

Zoé, I can't understand
what you want to do, you know?

If he's mad, leave him alone. Sorry.
- Come, come.

Come on! He's not crazy at all.
And then, to me, he's fine as he is.

Come! Come on!

But where will he be?

Have you got the key to the boat?
- Yes, but what will you do?

I don't know...
Give it to me!

Ah, there it is, the speedboat.
- You can go off, then? - Yes.

Reading the future?

I see black.

For them?

Maybe.

I don't understand why you introduced
them as if they didn't know one another?

Well, to remove
the embarrassment of choice.

Or, to precipitate things.

But, really, who is this Zoé?

She's the daughter of Bertang.
At least I think so.

May I come in please?
- From there.

Via del Mercurio, please?
- At the bottom, on the left,

Please how to I get to The Odeon Theatre?
- Yes, that way.

Eurydice ...

Where are you, Eurydice?

I want my Eurydice!

Without Eurydice,
there's no Orpheus.

There's no music, there's nothing.

Eurydice died...

For many days
I search for Eurydice.

Where am I? Who are they?

What have you come to do here?

This is hell ...

and I want heaven.

All that remains of life
is the hope that Orpheus sees Eurydice.

Sees Eurydice...

Even if it were for the last time!

Look, Ugo.

Less pathetic, you know?

OK, but we need to reduce
everything to the bone. Or it becomes

too melodramatic.

Are we agreed?

The fact is that the complaint is
and on the beat...

But, dry! He's a tough Orpheus.
He's a mountaineer. Do you agree?

All right.

So we'll skip the part with Proserpina.

Gisela, come.

Eurydice, that vision!

Come, Eurydice.

I've found you.

Eurydice, it's you...

It's you, it's you...

Everything is Eurydice.

Who would want a dead woman,
of stone?

I don't want a dead woman.

I want Eurydice... alive.

As in the infancy of our love...

Come, my life!

What was my love without me?

Did you think of me?
- Suffering, only suffering...

Listen to how my heart beats.
I came running!

I don't know...

I felt suddenly

a pain.

As if...

As if I saw you dead already.

Far away...

like a death.

Tears of my immense love,
I want to drink...

one by one, your tears.

Fine. Hold it.

Help me.

Please.
- That's why I'm here.

I'm really mixed up in my head.
- And who isn't?

You forgot this rose.
Was it for me?

Come closer.

Are you afraid to touch me?

I want life!
The goodness that gives life!

You do it.

You must do it!

Blood, blood, blood...

Wait...
Something must be done. Immediately!

Blood is life.
It's real blood...

We're saved...

We're saved!

What's going on up there?
Have they come just to cause trouble?

I'll go take a look, Beppe.
And chase them away!

Do I have talent?
- I want to tell you something...

And Orpheus, where is he?
- All right?

You were unforgettable!

I must say, rather loud. But the effect
is there. Wash up and don't worry.

Start to clear the sail.
Don't lose any time, please.

I wasn't afraid for myself, you know?
- Oh, yes, I understand.

The blood has to run a bit
and the infection goes away.

This has already happened to me
with you. I remember.

Achilles! Yes.

It's nothing. Just a scratch.
- Did I hurt you?

No! I escaped like Achilles.

Now we'll do the real show.
In my opinion, he's the real Orpheus.

Come on, come here, Orpheus.
I'll make you grow.

I'll give you a magic sole
so you'll become a giant.

All right, later.
- Yes, yes!

How did you know I was here?

When? Today or on the first day
in the house of Meleager?

Both times.

I didn't hear from anyone.
It happened by chance.

But how can this be?

You were looking for me?

Sure.

I'm 2,000 years waiting for you.

You could do Messina, the Ionian,
the Peloponnese, Crete...

Then, down the Red Sea.

It's a little hot over there, right?
- Yes, but it's nice anyway.

I'd like to see everything. Tour the world.
Touch everything with my hands.

Okay. We'll certainly do it, Professor.

And then?

Hello, Karin.

Then we come along the coast
illuminated by flames

and we'll find Robinson Crusoe
bringing the revolution.

Against whom?

What do you say?

Against himself, I suppose.

All right. I like the idea.

I'll go talk to Peter
and with the Captain.

Coming!

You know I'm convinced you're
the kind missing among us, Norbert?

Think so?

I'm absolutely certain.

Perhaps we chased it
who knows how long without knowing.

On this you can swear, Karin.

"Oh, vision!"

That's Orpheus' line,
or am I mistaken?

There's an air of happy ending on this boat.
- What, if everything starts now?

You want some coffee? - Thank you.

This is Antonia. She's half Sicilian.
And the daughter of a great writer.

Cute, naked. Want some coffee?

Listen, Nelson. We'd sail
along here and then pass the Strait,

go on and on a bit down here,
and then... Well, then, here you decide.

What's stuck to the anchor, a shark?

Come see, Zoé!
- What is it? - Pull it up!

Is it a body?
- An antique, guys.

Perhaps it's a Venus.
- I'll fetch the dinghy.

Pass me a line, Giuliano.
- Yes, I'll get it.

Wait. Careful with the amphora,
It's fragile. - Don't worry, archaeologist.

Here! Stop the winch now.

Maybe it's a bas-relief, Norbert.

What a catch.
- It'll be 25 meters. - But!

Hurry, or it'll get away, hurry!

I'm completely flustered.

Here! Take it, Peter.

Pull now.

Gently... - Not, by the handle.
Push it from below.

Maybe it's full of gold.
- But it's beautiful, Norbert.

It's full of corals.

Damn!

It's Norbert.

Well?

What's he doing?
- Doing his job.

You know what I found underwater?

Your name, Bertgang, in German,
It means Gradiva.

You're legally crazy,
Norbert Hanold.

Yes, perhaps, but now I'd like to live.
It's already good progress, right?

And what do we do now?

Whatever. It doesn't really matter.

Maybe go back to Munich
and I'm going to teach seriously.

Maybe I'll go to your father
and tell him:

"You know, rector,
Remember your daughter, Zoé?"

Well, I also remembered her.

Or, let's continue with this boat.
We'll be the Robinsons.

Or we decide to have a child.

In August. - Huh?

A child must be born in August.
It must be a Leo.

It's a beautiful month,
August, to be born.

Why?

I want to bleach my hair.

Why?

I'm bored.
I want to lose weight.

Why?

To be born again!

All right.

I think we should
fill it with rags. - What? - You.

So it won't break?
- Yes, it's very fragile.

You really care about it?
- It's beautiful.

It's the first thing
I was really able to discover.

Why did you do it?

For love.

You're sure it's not a crock?
- I'm sure.

You almost risked your life
to fish it out.

I dreamed...

of gardens...

of Meleager...

Where roses...

bloom in winter.

Where Gradiva appeared...

at midday.

On the palm of the wind

why are you not alive?

You're not alive ...

Why aren't you there, really?

Death responded in the well

showing his tongue obscenely

with it's black-lips...

In the gardens...

of Meleager ...

There is a black cat

with blue eyes...

It is the master

of time...

I dreamed

the gardens...

of Meleager...

Where roses...

bloom in winter.

Where Gradiva appeared...

at midday.

On the palm of the wind...

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