Garden of the Finzi-Continis Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Garden of the Finzi-Continis script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of  Giardino dei Finzi-Contini (original title).  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Garden of the Finzi-Continis. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

Garden of the Finzi-Continis Script


 

                   

Is anyone there?



 

                   

Micol must be up

to one of her tricks!



 

                   

- Did Alberto or Micol phone?

- Micol.



 

                   

- What a stupid joke!

- I was only fooling.



 

                   

They're much too well-bred.



 

                   

Maybe so,

but they're still not here.



 

                   

- Is anyone there?

- Yes, I'm coming!



 

                   

- Race you to the entrance!

- Don't leave me behind!



 

                   

They're coming back.



  

                   

We've waited so long,

I began to think they'd gone away.



  

                   

No, the Finzi-Continis

never leave their kingdom.



  

                   

The house must be

a long way from the gate.



  

                   

Come in!



  

                   

Straight ahead.

You can't miss it.



  

                   

- What's that?

- A monster!



  

                   

Does he bite?



  

                   

With four teeth left,

what can he bite...



  

                   

except corn mush?



  

                   

- He's so damn big!

- He looks like a horse.



  

                   

I thought the palace

only invited you...



  

                   

but a lot of us were honored.



  

                   

We can thank our Fascists

for the privilege.



  

                   

Nice to see you loving as ever.

Engaged yet?



  

                   

- When will you be, Giorgio?

- To whom?



  

                   

Everyone knows to whom.



  

                   

Been in Ferrara long?



  

                   

No, about a month.



  

                   

But I don't get out much,

like Alberto.



  

                   

- Do you know Micol too?

- No. What's she like?



  

                   

Very beautiful: tall, blond...



  

                   

but unpredictable.



  

                   

That way!



  

                   

Here we are!



  

                   

Come on, Alberto.

They're here!



  

                   

You lunatic-- I'll fall!



  

                   

There's our Micol!

There she is!



  

                   

My brother and I decided

to hold our own tournament here...



  

                   

since the club's put us out.



  

                   

- It may even be more fun!

- It's lovely!



  

                   

Like the country!



  

                   

Sorry that the court looks like

an old potato field.



  

                   

It needs a red clay top

and deeper backspaces.



  

                   

But to Papa, any land left uncultivated

seems a total waste.



  

                   

But next year maybe!



  

                   

Excuse me.

You haven't met Adriana Trentini.



  

                   

Carletto Sani.



  

                   

And Tonino Collevatti.



  

                   

- Want to change?

- Are we playing or not?



  

                   

Let the children play first,

then the champions.



  

                   

- You can change in the Hütte.

- What's that?



  

                   

The cabana.

Don't you know German?



  

                   

Very bad. Learn it at once!



  

                   

Aren't you playing?



  

                   

Later. I don't feel like it now.



  

                   

Do you like him?



  

                   

- Do you?

- Oh, he's not my type.



  

                   

- Who is he?

- A great friend of Alberto.



  

                   

Milan, college, love affairs.



  

                   

He works in industry here.



  

                   

- How are you?

- Fine. And you?



  

                   

Fine.



  

                   

- Did you get your degree?

- In February. And you?



  

                   

- Me too.

- In Venice?



  

                   

- Yes, but will they let us graduate?

- I hope so.



  

                   

Where have you been hiding?



  

                   

I saw you

at the Venice Cultural Contests.



  

                   

I knew it was you.

You haven't changed.



  

                   

Why didn't you come over?

It would have been nice.



  

                   

I don't know.



  

                   

Somehow, I finally decided not to.



  

                   

What's your thesis on?



  

                   

English. Emily Dickinson.



  

                   

The    th-century American poet.



  

                   

A fantastic woman.

An old maid like me.



  

                   

Here we are!

Jor!



  

                   

Good dog!



  

                   

Beautiful,

but maybe a bit silly?



  

                   

Perhaps.

What do you care?



  

                   

Oh, me...



  

                   

I've always liked women

of Gladys' type.



  

                   

Beautiful, stupid,

and sufficiently--



  

                   

Whorish.



  

                   

Do you like Ferrara?



  

                   

It's not nearly as dead

as you told me it was.



  

                   

It's lively.

Lots of interesting people.



  

                   

Especially among the proletariat...



  

                   

in the so-called working class.



  

                   

But the middle class

I don't care for.



  

                   

They're all of them

more or less Fascists.



  

                   

Except for you Jews...



  

                   

understandably...



  

                   

considering--



  

                   

But at least the workers

at my place...



  

                   

are almost all antifascist.



  

                   

This is nice...



  

                   

but to think

of being here forever--



  

                   

You never go out anymore?



  

                   

No, never.

Anyway, where would I go?



  

                   

If it were possible to pick the faces

one met on the street...



   

                   

I would go out.



   

                   

But whenever I did go out...



   

                   

I always felt

I was being spied on...



   

                   

envied.



   

                   

Whereas here

you pick the faces.



   

                   

Is that what you mean?



   

                   

Not exactly.



   

                   

There are never many of us here.



   

                   

I never feel attacked.



   

                   

I know what you think:

that I have no zest for life.



   

                   

But who can give me that?



   

                   

My seven old graybeards--

you know what they are?



   

                   

- Palms.

- Good! But what kind of palms?



   

                   

I don't know.



   

                   

GrannyJosette got them

from the Rome Botanical Garden.



   

                   

Washingtonia filifera.



   

                   

Why are you laughing?

You're so ignorant!



   

                   

I bet you can't tell

an elm from an oak.



   

                   

Come on, what tree is that?



   

                   

To me all trees are alike.



   

                   

I, for one, detest anyone

who doesn't love trees!



   

                   

That plane tree, for example...



   

                   

may have been planted

by Lucrezia Borgia!



   

                   

Imagine!

It's nearly     years old.



   

                   

Let's go.



   

                   

Oh, a flat tire!



   

                   

When I was little,

I used to run off.



   

                   

Not Alberto.

He was always more obedient.



   

                   

One day,

when I'd stayed out too long...



   

                   

near the Wall of the Angels...



   

                   

riding on bike handlebars

with a gang of boys...



   

                   

when I got home,

I found my parents in such despair...



   

                   

that I decided to be good.



   

                   

- I never ran off again.

- I thought you only rode with me!



   

                   

I never invited anyone else

into our garden.



   

                   

Honestly?



   

                   

Shall I stop?



   

                   

Do you remember?



   

                   

Ten years ago.



   

                   

You were just a child, Giorgio.



   

                   

You really must be blind!



   

                   

What are you doing?



   

                   

I've been watching you

for ten minutes.



   

                   

If you were asleep

and I woke you...



   

                   

do excuse me.



   

                   

You have my sympathy.



   

                   

Sympathy? Why? What for?



   

                   

- What time is it?

-  :   I think.



   

                   

You must be hungry.

Flunked an exam, didn't you?



   

                   

Did you pass all yours?



   

                   

I don't know. We private pupils

take orals after you do.



   

                   

I had mine today.



   

                   

Relax! It's not important,

repeating an exam!



   

                   

Yes, it is,

when it's the first time.



   

                   

But it's done,

and I'm over it now.



   

                   

You are? Then why didn't you

go home for lunch?



   

                   

- How did you know?

- We just know.



   

                   

We have ways

of getting information.



   

                   

How can you perch there,

like at a window?



   

                   

On my trusty ladder.



   

                   

Come on over.

I'll show you what to do.



   

                   

But it looks too high.



   

                   

No, it's easy.



   

                   

Use the notches

and those nails I drove in.



   

                   

Where can I leave my bike?



   

                   

Signorina Micol, that's dangerous!

You get down!



   

                   

All right! Stop yelling!



   

                   

The professor said not to go out!



   

                   

It's dangerous, I say!



   

                   

Ten years had to pass

before you opened your garden again.



   

                   

- Alberto!

- Let him whistle!



   

                   

Wait for me!



   

                   

Collevatti, you're an ace!



   

                   

Well, that was nice today.



   

                   

Yes, but actually,

it was nicer when we were alone.



   

                   

Remember this?



   

                   

Are you cold?



   

                   

Yes,just a bit.



   

                   

Gina, please bring up

a hot water bottle.



   

                   

Right away.



   

                   

Off to bed!



   

                   

No, I don't feel like it.



   

                   

What will I be like when I'm old?



   

                   

Like GrannyJosette?



   

                   

Well, if we live, we'll find out.



   

                   

Today's paper! Read all about

the meeting of the Supreme Council!



   

                   

You think we'll move

into the B League?



   

                   

We can make it!



   

                   

Today's paper! Read all about

the meeting of the Supreme Council!



   

                   

You spent yesterday afternoon

at the Finzi-Continis?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

And how were they?

Pleasant?



   

                   

Very pleasant.



   

                   

I'm sure they were!



   

                   

Yes, because they're glad

about what's happening.



   

                   

- It's quite clear.

- What is?



   

                   

That they basically welcome

the anti-Semitic laws.



   

                   

They're eager to see them passed.



   

                   

Invitations, broad smiles,

low bows...



   

                   

and the garden finally opened

to everyone!



   

                   

Converted into a ghetto

under their noble patronage!



   

                   

In ghettos there are onlyJews.



   

                   

At the Finzi-Continis,

except for Lattes and me...



   

                   

they're all Aryans.



   

                   

Take Adriana Trentini!



   

                   

Tricks, vile tricks,

just to get hold of you!



   

                   

Next comes your pet mania!



   

                   

Meaning?



   

                   

That our Mussolini

is better than Hitler...



   

                   

our fascism better than Nazism!



   

                   

Well, it's true!



   

                   

Did you see today's paper?



   

                   

Then read it!



   

                   

What?

I don't have my glasses.



   

                   

It says thatJews

may no longer marry non-Jews...



   

                   

and are barred from state schools.



   

                   

What about Giorgio's degree?



   

                   

- Except--

- Except what?



   

                   

Persons of high patriotic

and Fascist merit.



   

                   

- You're a party member.

- Yes, but that's not enough.



   

                   

Don't laugh, stupid!

You'll have to quit school.



   

                   

Come on!



   

                   

You may clear.



   

                   

I forgot to add:

no more domestiques...



   

                   

of the race aryenne.



   

                   

No more domestiques?



   

                   

- Apparently.

- How will we manage?



   

                   

We'll manage.

We'll manage somehow.



   

                   

- May I?

- Yes, Father.



   

                   

What is that?



   

                   

"    th-Century Europe"

Is it interesting?



   

                   

- Quite.

- Let me read it after you.



   

                   

Look, I understand how you feel,

but you have to admit...



   

                   

we're not so badly off here.



   

                   

Granted: no more mixed marriages.



   

                   

That's actually not too--



   

                   

No phone listings,

no public schools...



   

                   

and that, I must agree, is serious.



   

                   

So is being barred

from the armed forces.



   

                   

No obituaries in the newspapers...



   

                   

and now, no servants.



   

                   

But apart from that...



   

                   

you'll admit we can still live,

move about, own property.



   

                   

- In effect, be a citizen.

- Third-class.



   

                   

Third-class, if you will,

but still a citizen who can...



   

                   

enjoy his basic rights.



   

                   

Such as?



   

                   

There have always been

few enough rights for anyone.



   

                   

We weren't the first

to be persecuted. That is true.



   

                   

But we all kept quiet

as long as we weren't hit.



   

                   

Nevertheless...



   

                   

I don't think you should

keep yourself so isolated...



   

                   

or refuse to come to the phone.



   

                   

It's very bad for you

to segregate yourself.



   

                   

For your poor brother

and sister too...



   

                   

because, naturally,

they imitate you.



   

                   

Like giving up the Tennis Club.

They're not expelling you.



   

                   

Nor me from

the Chamber of Commerce.



   

                   

Don't you see, good God,

that you're playing into the hands...



   

                   

of the very people

who want us to stop being...



   

                   

Italians!



   

                   

I've already been expelled

from the Tennis Club.



   

                   

Who are those two people?



   

                   

My mother and father.



   

                   

Don't stop.

Please don't let us disturb you.



   

                   

Do go on playing.



   

                   

Good afternoon!



   

                   

Still at it?

I haven't played yet!



   

                   

I'll just watch this time.



   

                   

I feel you're not really

interested in men.



   

                   

That's true.

In your case, at any rate.



   

                   

What don't you like about me?



   

                   

My friendship with your brother?



   

                   

May I also speak quite frankly?



   

                   

- Please do. Frankness--

- Is your fetish, we know.



   

                   

The main thing is

you're too frank...



   

                   

and therefore, inevitably, well--



   

                   

- Ill-bred.

- Precisely.



   

                   

Second--



   

                   

You're too much

the industrious Lombard...



   

                   

too much a Communist...



   

                   

and, finally...



   

                   

too hairy.



   

                   

Bravo, Désirée!



   

                   

You played for three hours.

Who won?



   

                   

- Désirée.

- I've got something to show you.



   

                   

Later, when we're alone.



   

                   

- What a crowd!

- My uncles and my grandmother.



   

                   

Micol, your uncles are here.



   

                   

- This is a friend of Alberto's.

- Delighted.



   

                   

Alberto has often spoken to us

about you.



   

                   

Please do come visit us.



   

                   

Have you perspired much?



   

                   

Some.



   

                   

You should be careful.



   

                   

Was it hot in Bologna, Uncle?



   

                   

Oh, yes!



   

                   

Eighty-six degrees in the shade.



   

                   

Here you can breathe.



   

                   

You were on a consultation?



   

                   

Yes, I was.



   

                   

How did Uncle Federico

happen to go along with you?



   

                   

Since being forced out

of his railroad post...



   

                   

he has nothing to do,

the lucky fellow.



   

                   

And he enjoys driving.



   

                   

- How are you?

- Fine.



   

                   

Just a little tired.



   

                   

Are you sleeping?



   

                   

Not well.



   

                   

It's not going to rain!



   

                   

Are you coming with me?



   

                   

Let's go.



   

                   

That crazy Micol!



   

                   

See there?



   

                   

That's where we had

our gym lessons.



   

                   

And the carriage

I rode to school in.



   

                   

You recognize it?



   

                   

Good as ever,

but no flowers inside.



   

                   

Perrotti still puts them in.



   

                   

He only drives Granny

around the garden in it.



   

                   

Perrotti works here

despite the new laws?



   

                   

Isn't it risky if they find out?



   

                   

- No, it's a secret.

- Sorry.



   

                   

Papa's a big donor

to government charities.



   

                   

Where will it end?



   

                   

Get in.



   

                   

It seems only yesterday

that you came to the synagogue in it.



   

                   

How long ago that was!



   

                   

The few times we went,

I'd look for you.



   

                   

Giorgio, don't you like it

better now?



   

                   

Why?



   

                   

Why? Because we can stay here

by ourselves...



   

                   

with no one to scold us,

for one thing!



   

                   

Children are always prisoners

of grown-ups.



   

                   

I mean...



   

                   

I like to feel I'm a woman.



   

                   

And you? Would you rather

still be a child?



   

                   

No, but--



   

                   

So many "buts"!



   

                   

- Micol, wait!

- Too late!



   

                   

- It's raining!

- Oh,just a few drops!



   

                   

You know the way to the gate?



   

                   

Of course you do.

You came that way.



   

                   

Phone us sometime.



   

                   

Defend your queen!



   

                   

It's no use.

You're too good for me!



   

                   

- What's so funny?

- I was thinking--



   

                   

About what?



   

                   

I was thinking...



   

                   

of Gladys in Milan...



   

                   

and asking myself--



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Whether you ever slept

with her or not.



   

                   

It's been three years now.



   

                   

I didn't even find her

at all attractive.



   

                   

Then what made you act mysterious,

even jealous...



   

                   

over some ballet dancer?



   

                   

Well--



   

                   

And I was so full of scruples!



   

                   

Maritain says you Jews

are never boring.



   

                   

It's quite true.

You're so very complicated.



   

                   

Come now.



   

                   

Did you ever go to a brothel?



   

                   

- Did you?

- Me? But of course!



   

                   

How pretty and chic we are!



   

                   

Listen...



   

                   

our uncles are dining

and sleeping here.



   

                   

He's dining here too.



   

                   

- And sleeping?

- No, not sleeping.



   

                   

I'll phone you.

Tomorrow morning.



   

                   

Good night.



   

                   

- Who was it?

- Giorgio.



   

                   

I've decided not to stay.

We'll play another time.



   

                   

- Why?

- Good night.



   

                   

Do stay.

To please Alberto.



   

                   

I might even apologize then.



   

                   

Apologize for what?

Good night.



   

                   

- Will you phone me?

- Yes, I will.



   

                   

You really will phone?



   

                   

She's in the kitchen

ironing your coat.



   

                   

- Hurry!

- Dear, I only have two hands.



   

                   

Someone at the door!



   

                   

- Who is it?

- Me, Maria.



   

                   

- Did anyone see you?

- Carlino.



   

                   

But he minds his own business.

He won't talk.



   

                   

I told her to come earlier,

but she lives so far away.



   

                   

- You know it's unwise.

- She's only here a few hours.



   

                   

But she's here.



   

                   

Anyway, let's not tell your father.

He'd be worried.



   

                   

- Hello. May I come in?

- Of course.



   

                   

- You want to see?

- Signor Alberto.



   

                   

Not likely today.



   

                   

He's in bed with a fever.

He got drenched in the rain.



   

                   

- And the young lady?

- She's not here. She's gone.



   

                   

Gone?



   

                   

- Where?

- To Venice, with her uncles.



   

                   

They all went off

less than an hour ago.



   

                   

She left no message for me?



   

                   

The back table is free.



   

                   

Excuse me, but the director

told me that...



   

                   

you can't stay here.



   

                   

You mean...



   

                   

I have to move?



   

                   

Not move.

Just get out of here.



   

                   

- Why?

- Don't ask me!



   

                   

I want to talk with the director.



   

                   

- I can't!

- Go on!



   

                   

Tell him I'm on my way

to see him.



   

                   

I'm sorry, dear boy.

I'm so terribly sorry.



   

                   

But it's not up to me.



   

                   

Instructions are instructions.



   

                   

- If I could--

- If you could--



   

                   

Personally, I'd be delighted

for a talented young man like you--



   

                   

As your father's old friend--



   

                   

With your brilliant

literary future--



   

                   

By the way, how is the poetry?

Still writing?



   

                   

Listen.



   

                   

Be patient. I have--



   

                   

Yes, I know.

You have a family.



   

                   

All Italy has a family.



   

                   

He's sorry.

He has a family.



   

                   

I understand. Poor fellow.

I know it wasn't up to him.



   

                   

- How is Alberto?

- So-so.



   

                   

- He's come here to study.

- Splendid, splendid.



   

                   

- What's he doing here?

- Studying.



   

                   

Good, good.



   

                   

- What's he doing here?

- Studying, Mama.



   

                   

There you are:

your table, your books.



   

                   

What's your thesis on?



   

                   

It will deal with the poetry

of Enrico Panzacchi.



   

                   

Fine choice. Very interesting.



   

                   

One of Carducci's school.



   

                   

I think you'll find we have

everything the library has...



   

                   

though we're more selective.



   

                   

The major works are all here.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Is it true you have

some unpublished works by Carducci?



   

                   

I'll show them to you one day.



   

                   

I'm in there.



   

                   

If you need anything--

coffee, lemonade...



   

                   

a bit of advice--

just call me.



   

                   

- They're lucky!

- Who?



   

                   

The private pupils.



   

                   

They're easy to spot.

They're different.



   

                   

What's happening in Ferrara?



   

                   

Whom do you see?



   

                   

When am I coming back?

Tomorrow, if I could.



   

                   

I must finish my thesis first.



   

                   

Surely by Passover.

When is it this year?



   

                   

No, I can't any sooner.



   

                   

It's like a century

since I saw you.



   

                   

What's wrong?



   

                   

Why, nothing, Micol.

I'm fine, I assure you.



   

                   

I long to have you back here.



   

                   

That's true, but there's no reason

for you to worry.



   

                   

I've had the X rays.



   

                   

No, nothing new.



   

                   

I said there's nothing new.



   

                   

Shall I phone tomorrow?



   

                   

If you like.



   

                   

All right. I promise.



   

                   

- Where are all these troops going?

- To their regiments. Then who knows?



   

                   

Want some newspapers?



   

                   

I'll wait and read

the French ones tomorrow.



   

                   

I think there's a seat over here.



   

                   

No, this way!



   

                   

Ernesto!



   

                   

Try to get some sleep tonight,

won't you, please?



   

                   

No, I want to be awake

crossing the French border.



   

                   

Try to economize.

We can't send much money abroad.



   

                   

So put it away safely

and be very careful.



   

                   

I'm just going off to school,

not to war!



   

                   

- Got everything?

- Yes, everything.



   

                   

Who can tell, who knows well



   

                   

What is the meaning of One?



   

                   

One God who dwells in heaven



   

                   

Who can tell, who knows well



   

                   

What is the meaning of Two?



   

                   

Two, the tablets of Moses



   

                   

One was, One is



   

                   

One forever One shall be



   

                   

One God who dwells in heaven



   

                   

Who can tell, who knows well



   

                   

What is the meaning of Three?



   

                   

Our own patriarchs are Three



   

                   

Abraham, Isaac and Jacob



   

                   

Two, the tablets of Moses



   

                   

One was, One is



   

                   

One forever One shall be



   

                   

One God who dwells in heaven



   

                   

Who can tell, who knows well



   

                   

What is the meaning of Four?



   

                   

Hello.



   

                   

Who is it?



   

                   

- Who was it?

- No one.



   

                   

That happens to me too,

at night.



   

                   

Every night. I go to pick up the phone

and nobody answers.



   

                   

What do they want?

Who are they?



   

                   

Did you just ring up

and not answer?



   

                   

Because someone just did

and wouldn't talk.



   

                   

What? A surprise?



   

                   

What kind of surprise?



   

                   

Look, can't you at least

give me a hint?



   

                   

Come on! How mysterious!



   

                   

Fine, I'll be right over.



   

                   

One God who dwells in heaven



   

                   

- I'm so glad to see you again!

- When did you come?



   

                   

This afternoon, with my uncles.



   

                   

- I'm sorry.

- Why should you be?



   

                   

I shouldn't have run out here.

It's my fault.



   

                   

What lovely snow!



   

                   

Venice didn't get any at all.



   

                   

If I had heard about it--



   

                   

- What's this?

- I'm engaged. Didn't you know?



   

                   

I'm not!

Can't you tell I'm joking?



   

                   

It's a Passover gift from Alberto.



   

                   

Come, they'll be worrying about us.



   

                   

Wait.



   

                   

- Nothing.

- Did you like the surprise?



   

                   

Did you like it?



   

                   

He was nice to come right over.

Maybe he guessed.



   

                   

I was curious, I must say.



   

                   

There's another surprise.



   

                   

That one I can guess.



   

                   

You got your degree.

Good for you!



   

                   

No cause for praise.

I made it, but without honors.



   

                   

The German professor,

a brute of a Nazi, had it in for me.



   

                   

Why, he even conducted his exams

in Nazi uniform!



   

                   

We have guests.



   

                   

Happy Passover!



   

                   

Sit down here by me.



   

                   

Giorgio, at last!

Why don't you come more often?



   

                   

Alberto is so alone.



   

                   

I'm glad you're here this Passover.



   

                   

Sir, I was so pleased

to get Alberto's invitation.



   

                   

I didn't even know

Micol had come back.



   

                   

Fortunately our Micol

is home again.



   

                   

It's so sad without her.



   

                   

Behave, boys!

I can't breathe that way!



   

                   

Alberto's told us

so much about you.



   

                   

They're childhood friends.



   

                   

How's the thesis going?

You haven't used our library lately.



   

                   

After Passover

I'll be there again.



   

                   

Will your thesis be ready byJune?



   

                   

I wonder.



   

                   

You should get it done...



   

                   

before they issue a decree

that now literature also...



   

                   

is Aryan.



   

                   

Such a lovely glass.

What's it for?



   

                   

My daughter brought it from Venice.



   

                   

It serves, she claims...



   

                   

to predict the future-- a joke!



   

                   

What has it said?



   

                   

All sorts of things.



   

                   

First we asked if I'd get my degree,

and it said no.



   

                   

Second...



   

                   

if Micol will marry.



   

                   

To this the answer wasn't clear.



   

                   

Third, it said war is coming.



   

                   

A long war...



   

                   

painful for everyone,

not just for us...



   

                   

Negroes.



   

                   

But finally...



   

                   

ending in total victory...



   

                   

for the forces of good.



   

                   

Yes?



   

                   

It's the young man.



   

                   

Come on in.



   

                   

Don't be afraid I have the flu.



   

                   

It's just a cold.



   

                   

Sit down here.

We must talk.



   

                   

What are you reading?



   

                   

Cocteau. Very chic!



   

                   

But nothing like those great books

of our childhood...



   

                   

whenever we came down

with the flu!



   

                   

The Three Musketeers,

Twenty Years Later...



   

                   

War and Peace.



   

                   

Those were real novels!



   

                   

Even when it comes to "chic,"

they were better.



   

                   

This room is so different

from what I imagined.



   

                   

How are you?



   

                   

So-so.



   

                   

Listen, Giorgio...



   

                   

I'm sorry to hurt you.



   

                   

Terribly sorry.



   

                   

On the other hand...



   

                   

let's try not to ruin

our beautiful childhood memories.



   

                   

Look, I've done my very best.



   

                   

As soon as I noticed the bad turn

our relationship was taking...



   

                   

the growth of something false...



   

                   

of something wrong

and very dangerous--



   

                   

you have to admit it--

I went away.



   

                   

If I stayed in Venice so long...



   

                   

it was on your account.



   

                   

You must face it.



   

                   

It's not possible!



   

                   

But why?



   

                   

Why isn't it possible?



   

                   

Stop it!



   

                   

Please, don't!



   

                   

Stop it!

Someone may come in!



   

                   

Behave yourself!.



   

                   

Get up, please. I can't breathe.



   

                   

What's the point?



   

                   

It's utterly useless.



   

                   

Useless? Why is it useless?



   

                   

Why don't you go in there?

You're all flushed.



   

                   

Wash your face.



   

                   

Who is it?



   

                   

It's Jor. Let him in.



   

                   

Lie down.

There, that's a good dog!



   

                   

Who was that?



   

                   

And now, please leave.



   

                   

- Shall I phone tomorrow?

- No, we mustn't phone each other.



   

                   

And best not to come back.



   

                   

Never?



   

                   

Please.



   

                   

It's much better for both of us,

believe me.



   

                   

Good-bye?



   

                   

Good-bye.



   

                   

- Still awake?

- Yes, Father.



   

                   

I'm up late tonight also.



   

                   

I felt like taking a walk.



   

                   

Too many people during the day.



   

                   

Why are you still awake?



   

                   

- Anything wrong?

- No, nothing.



   

                   

You saw Ernesto's letter?



   

                   

How would you like to visit him

in Grenoble for a few days?



   

                   

We must get some money to him

before it's too late.



   

                   

Too late for what?



   

                   

Nothing. If a thing needs doing,

get it done.



   

                   

I could leave tomorrow.



   

                   

No, it takes a few days

to get a French visa.



   

                   

Besides, to raise the money...



   

                   

I have to sell our securities.



   

                   

We must be cautious.

They're quick to accuse us.



   

                   

- And they have lots of imagination.

- The French visa is no problem.



   

                   

But will they let me out?



   

                   

Why not?



   

                   

We've not reached that point yet.



   

                   

A change will do you good,

to leave Ferrara for a while.



   

                   

- Good night.

- Good night, Father.



   

                   

With all the    - and   -year-olds

they could draft...



   

                   

why do they put the bite on us?



   

                   

I've done my share.



   

                   

Eighteen months in Ethiopia,

malaria and dysentery included.



   

                   

Get someone else now!



   

                   

- Where are we?

- We just passed Novara.



   

                   

You're safe working at Fiat.



   

                   

Without your guns,

how do we fight?



   

                   

No, we're not safe.

Lots of our men have been called up.



   

                   

All I ask is to stay in Italy.



   

                   

Anything but Africa,

after what I saw.



   

                   

Move over.



   

                   

We really used poison gas?



   

                   

We sure did!



   

                   

Macaroni, vive la liberté!



   

                   

What a superb beard!

How are you?



   

                   

Fine! How about you

and Mother, Father and Fanny?



   

                   

Fine! We're all fine.



   

                   

So many soldiers.

Do they expect war to break out?



   

                   

Yes. A lot of us Italians

are here now.



   

                   

A Levi from Turin,

a Piperno from Rome.



   

                   

All of them students.

But you'll soon meet them.



   

                   

In Italy, they think

France and England...



   

                   

will compromise again

at the last moment.



   

                   

The Italians know nothing.

You can't think when you don't know.



   

                   

For us, what is there

to look forward to now?



   

                   

They talk a lot about the Stuka.



   

                   

The call it "the victory plane."



   

                   

I bet it's nothing new.



   

                   

May I have the salt?



   

                   

What's that number on your arm?



   

                   

I'll tell you later.



   

                   

It was put on me at Dachau.



   

                   

Do they talk about Dachau

in Italy?



   

                   

No? What a pity.



   

                   

What is Dachau?



   

                   

It's a hotel in the woods.



   

                   

A hundred chalets,

all rooms without baths...



   

                   

a single latrine...



   

                   

surrounded by barbed wire.



   

                   

The service is provided by the SS.



   

                   

Instead of tagging our luggage,

they brand numbers on our flesh...



   

                   

as a souvenir of their hospitality.



   

                   

The guests at Dachau

areJews, Communists...



   

                   

Socialists like me,

dissidents of all varieties.



   

                   

In other words...



   

                   

those whom the Nazis call

the dregs of the human race.



   

                   

I got out alive...



   

                   

because I'm a coward.



   

                   

I told them

I had become a Nazi.



   

                   

My brother didn't know

about any of this.



   

                   

So now he knows too.



   

                   

You really want to go back?



   

                   

I have too many ties

I can't bring with me.



   

                   

I'll see you.



   

                   

Giorgio, it's been ages!

I wondered where you were.



   

                   

I've missed you

at the Finzi-Continis.



   

                   

I've stopped going.



   

                   

And Micol?

What's she doing?



   

                   

She's the same as ever:

full of vitality, carefree.



   

                   

But not Alberto.

He never leaves his room now.



   

                   

He'd like to see you.



   

                   

And Adriana? How is she?



   

                   

That's all over.



   

                   

Mixed marriages are forbidden.



   

                   

She's engaged to a boy

from Bologna, I was told.



   

                   

It may be best for both of us.



   

                   

More so for her than me.



   

                   

- Let's get together.

- Yes, let's.



   

                   

By the way, you haven't been there

in so long. How come?



   

                   

- Women?

- Did they ask about me?



   

                   

Alberto did, several times.



   

                   

And Micol?

What's Micol doing?



   

                   

She translates English.



   

                   

She plays tennis

and never goes out.



   

                   

As if only the garden were safe.



   

                   

Like her brother.



   

                   

What shall we do? Go out?



   

                   

Do you prefer a woman

or a movie?



   

                   

- The clown!

- Bunch of riffraff!.



   

                   

I'd like to know what's so funny!



   

                   

- Stupid bastards!

- Get out, you dirtyJew!



   

                   

If I ever catch you--



   

                   

You're a real idiot.



   

                   

You can thank your God...



   

                   

the bum didn't know

you really are a Jew!



   

                   

A hell of a shot!



   

                   

If your aim's that good--



   

                   

- Try me.

- Slow down!



   

                   

Back home they say...



   

                   

" Big nose and black pelt...



   

                   

you can't tell

what's below the belt."



   

                   

What do I owe you?



   

                   

Beginner's luck!

Let's see you do it again.



   

                   

Please be sure you get it

good and level.



   

                   

Forgive me.



   

                   

Forgive me for disobeying.



   

                   

Today, I'm the one

who has something to say.



   

                   

Have you been in Ferrara

all along?



   

                   

More or less.



   

                   

One time I rode past the wall

on my bike.



   

                   

I saw you playing tennis.



   

                   

You and Malnate.



   

                   

You know, he and I have become

quite friendly.



   

                   

That's nice.



   

                   

You said you have

something to say.



   

                   

What is it?



   

                   

I just wanted to see you again.



   

                   

That's all.



   

                   

I love you.



   

                   

It's never happened to me before.



   

                   

And I know it never will again.



   

                   

But I don't love you!



   

                   

Lovers have a drive

to overwhelm one another.



   

                   

But the way we are,

alike as two drops of water...



   

                   

how could we ever overwhelm

or tear each other to pieces?



   

                   

It would be like making love

with a brother.



   

                   

Like with Alberto.



   

                   

You and I are not normal people.



   

                   

For the two of us...



   

                   

what counts more

than the possession of things--



   

                   

how shall I put it?--



   

                   

is the remembrance of things...



   

                   

the memory of things.



   

                   

Isn't that so?



   

                   

I wonder.



   

                   

It may simply be that...



   

                   

you don't like me physically.



   

                   

That's all.



   

                   

Don't talk such nonsense.



   

                   

There's no connection.



   

                   

Yes, there is!



   

                   

And you know it.



   

                   

Unless--



   

                   

Unless what?



   

                   

Unless there's someone else.



   

                   

There's absolutely no one.



   

                   

Who could there be?



   

                   

Why ask me?



   

                   

It could be anyone.



   

                   

What else can I say, Micol?



   

                   

I can't even persuade you

to let me love you.



   

                   

I'm so helpless.



   

                   

If anything happens to you...



   

                   

the fault will be mine.



   

                   

I'll never come here again.



   

                   

I'll never come again

to this garden.



   

                   

Il Duce will make an address

in one hour...



   

                   

to the entire nation.



   

                   

Italians...



   

                   

Fascists...



   

                   

you will hear the announcement

of an historic event.



   

                   

Duce! Duce! Duce!



   

                   

Shut up! Shut up!



   

                   

What is it? What's wrong?



   

                   

Italy's declared war!

The Duce is speaking!



   

                   

Well, say something!



   

                   

Giorgio? Is that you?



   

                   

Giorgio? Is that you?



   

                   

Why haven't I seen you?



   

                   

Let's get together.

No, Sunday's too late.



   

                   

I'll be gone.



   

                   

I've been called up.



   

                   

Yes, they caught me.



   

                   

First to Bologna.

Then who knows?



   

                   

I only hope I'm not sent to Russia.



   

                   

Fine. I'll see you later.



   

                   

Why don't you visit them?



   

                   

- Why haven't you gone?

- I can't.



   

                   

Are things that bad with Micol?



   

                   

I loved her so terribly much.



   

                   

If you knew

how much she likes you...



   

                   

how she sticks up for you.



   

                   

Alberto likes and respects you too.



   

                   

I have no use...



   

                   

for their liking or their respect.



   

                   

I think you're wrong.



   

                   

Whatever happened

between you and Micol...



   

                   

your friendship is worth saving.



   

                   

Excuse me for asking...



   

                   

but did you ever even kiss her?



   

                   

Once. Yes, I did,just once.



   

                   

Let's not talk about it.



   

                   

At a time like this...



   

                   

my broken heart is absurd.



   

                   

Now you're leaving too.



   

                   

Will you write me?



   

                   

We'll see each other again.



   

                   

When I'm off duty,

I'll spend Sundays in Ferrara.



   

                   

It's midnight! I must go

or I'll never wake up!



   

                   

Good luck!



   

                   

- You too!

- I'll need it.



   

                   

Be of good cheer!



   

                   

This is London.



   

                   

Soviet forces

are fighting magnificently...



   

                   

in defense of Moscow.



   

                   

The Nazi forces are encountering

stiff resistance.



   

                   

Stalin--



   

                   

Is that you, Giorgio?



   

                   

Yes, Father.



   

                   

You know what time it is?  :  .



   

                   

I went out.



   

                   

With your friend from Milan?



   

                   

What's the news?



   

                   

The Germans are outside of Moscow.



   

                   

You think they can be driven back?

I doubt it.



   

                   

I think they can.



   

                   

But if they fail...



   

                   

then it's really the end.



   

                   

Look, Giorgio...



   

                   

how are things with Micol?



   

                   

Forgive me for bringing up

this subject...



   

                   

but your mother and I...



   

                   

have been aware.



   

                   

Things are so bad...



   

                   

they couldn't be any worse.



   

                   

It's all over.



   

                   

Oh, yes, I know how painful

that can be.



   

                   

But in the long run, it's best.



   

                   

You really wanted to be engaged?



   

                   

Engaged, and maybe marry...



   

                   

at a time like this?



   

                   

If I may say so...



   

                   

as families go,

the Finzi-Continis are not for us.



   

                   

They're not our sort.

They're different.



   

                   

They don't even seem Jewish.



   

                   

Micol-- Maybe that's what

attracted you to her.



   

                   

That she's superior to you

socially.



   

                   

It'll pass.



   

                   

You'll get over it.



   

                   

And a lot sooner than you think.



   

                   

I can imagine

what you're feeling now.



   

                   

Yet, in a way,

I rather envy you.



   

                   

In life, in order to understand...



   

                   

to really understand the world...



   

                   

you must die at least once.



   

                   

So it's better to die young,

when there's still time left...



   

                   

to recover and live again.



   

                   

When you're old, it's much worse.



   

                   

Why is that?



   

                   

There's no time

to start over from zero.



   

                   

And our generation has made

so many, many mistakes.



   

                   

A few months and it will seem as if

none of this had ever happened to you.



   

                   

You may even end up being glad.



   

                   

You'll feel richer,

one might say.



   

                   

More mature.



   

                   

Let's hope so.



   

                   

I'm happy all that came out...



   

                   

and I got this load off my chest.



   

                   

How about catching some sleep?

You need it.



   

                   

I'll try to close my eyes

a few minutes too.



   

                   

Good night.



   

                   

Go up to Alberto.



   

                   

I couldn't lie to him.



   

                   

Air raid!



   

                   

Young man, try your luck!



   

                   

No, thanks.



   

                   

Hey, I know you!



   

                   

Before this stinking war started...



   

                   

you came with your friend--

my friend too.



   

                   

Malnate?



   

                   

He was killed in Russia.



   

                   

And you--

how did you dodge it?



   

                   

They didn't want me.

I'm a Jew.



   

                   

AJew!



   

                   

- Beat it! Go away!

- Why?



   

                   

They're hunting Jews.

They'll grab you anywhere!



   

                   

Beat it! Go away!



   

                   

An eight-hour patrol

is too long!



   

                   

Signor Lattes?



   

                   

Kindly come with us.



   

                   

- To the police?

-Just a formality. A few minutes.



   

                   

Please.



   

                   

Stop!



   

                   

There he goes! That way!



   

                   

Stop!



   

                   

Open up.



   

                   

This way!



   

                   

Go in the other room.



   

                   

Finzi-Contini, Prof. Ermanno.



   

                   

Here.



   

                   

Finzi-Contini, Olga.



   

                   

Arton, Regina in Herrera.



   

                   

Finzi-Contini, Alberto.



   

                   

He died six months ago.



   

                   

Finzi-Contini, Nicole.



   

                   

Micol.



   

                   

- Ascoli in Levi.

- Present.



   

                   

- Lattes, Magda.

- Present.



   

                   

Lattes, Luigi.



   

                   

Ancona, Olga.



   

                   

Ascoli, Elisa.



   

                   

This is for Montanari.



   

                   

Move. Let us through.



   

                   

All who've been called

and the newcomers--



   

                   

Take this to Montanari.



   

                   

Follow me. Line up.



   

                   

Please.



   

                   

Let's go!



   

                   

Faster, faster!



   

                   

Go on.



   

                   

Stop.



   

                   

Make room.



   

                   

Inside, please.



   

                   

Finzi-Contini, finished yet?



   

                   

Good-bye.



   

                   

You're here too.



   

                   

We're all here,

but they've separated us.



   

                   

They took me away last night.



   

                   

Not Giorgio,just me.



   

                   

Giorgio, my wife and Fanny should be

far away by now...



   

                   

and hopefully they made it.



   

                   

Thank God!



   

                   

- Where will they take us?

- Who knows?



   

                   

Pray to God they at least

let us stay together, Micol...



   

                   

those of us from Ferrara.











  

  

  

 
Special help by SergeiK