04x06 - The Cheat

[bunniefuu]

- Is she asleep?
- Nearly.

You ready? Alfonso's waiting downstairs.

I'll be back in a couple of hours.

Go, don't worry.

- It's absolutely fine.
- Thanks.

I'm scared something might happen to Mamma.

I don't want her to be alone if anything happens.

Go.

Yeah.

Marisa was always free to cheat on me if she wanted.

I gave her kids a name.

But she's mad at me anyway.

We'll never get there.

She spat in my face a bunch of times.

She says I deceived her.

And did you deceive her?

How could I ever?

You're an intelligent person,
an intellectual, you get it.

I was deceived the most.

Deceived by myself.

- as*h*le, you f*ck' blind?
- f*ck you!

Your mother's a wh*re!

Jackass.

And if Lila hadn't helped me...

I would have died cheated.

The finest thing she did was to impose clarity on me.

She taught me to realize

that if I touch a woman's bare foot,

I feel nothing...

But I'm swooning with desire to touch a man's foot.

And caress his hands,

cut his nails with scissors,

squeeze his blackheads.

Remember when we were little?

You and Lila came to ask my
father to give back your dolls.

Who could forget?

D'you remember he called me

and asked, teasing me,

"Alfonso did you take them?"

And everyone laughed.

I was the shame of my family,

I played with my sister's dolls
and put on Mamma's necklaces.

As a kid I already knew I wasn't what others thought,

or even what I thought I was.

"I'm something else," I said.

A nameless thing crouched deep in my veins, waiting.

I didn't know what it was,

until Lila forced me to...

I don't know how to explain it.

To take a little bit of her.

My little lamb

What did you do

When you ended up in the wolf's mouth?

We blended ourselves,

and now I'm not what I used to be.

I'm not Lila either.

I'm another thing,

that is gradually taking form.

Hi, Marcello.

Hi, Lenù.

- Hi, Marcello.
- Your mother's better today.

Good.

He thinks Michele's gone crazy because of me.

Lila encouraged me to be like her.

She likes to see how I distort her

and she likes the effect
this distortion has on Michele.

And I like it too.

That's the truth.

If I get k*lled, remember, it was Marcello.

What are you saying?

- Basic Sight.
- Ada, put Enzo on.

He's out on an errand. Then he's coming to get you.

Tell him I'm going into labor.

What's going on?

The baby's in her cradle. Take care of her.

- I gotta run.
- Do you want to come in?

I gotta go or I won't make it.

- The baby!
- I'll see to her, don't worry.

Help me!

Help!

Help me, I'm in labor.

My God! Get in, quick.

I'll take you to the hospital.

Lila!

Is he your husband?

What happened?

Let's hurry, this is it.

Really? This is it?

Don't hold back, push!

Get it out of me!

Cut open my belly, b*tch!

- Come on, push.
- Cut open my belly!

Come on!

I can't do it!

Come on!

Don't hold back.

The f*ck you on about!

f*cking cow, get this baby out of my belly!

You turd!

You're k*lling me!

Help me!

It's a girl.

It's a girl.

It's not true you only suffer with the first child

and after that it gets easier.

You suffer each time, Lenù.

Your body becomes its own enemy

and inflicts the most atrocious pain on itself.

You're exaggerating.

I'm exaggerating?

You're such a liar.

What beautiful experience?

I swear I'll never get pregnant again.

She's beautiful.

You know you named her after my doll?

Which doll?

Tina.

Remember? Nunziatina.

It's true.

I didn't do it on purpose.

She was a beautiful doll.

I was so attached to her.

My daughter's more beautiful.

Hi, how are you? Did you come to visit your friend?

Yes.

I found her exhausted.

If you care about her, help
her focus on something good,

or with that dancing brain of hers

she'll get herself and those around her in trouble.

Why do you say that?

Her delivery was different from yours.

In the delivery room I saw a fight against nature,

a horrible clash between a mother and her child.

A truly unpleasant experience.

It's unpleasant to hear you say these things.

The babies became an excuse to be together more.

Lila and I spoke on the phone,

we met up to take our two babies out,

we spoke endlessly, no
longer about us, but about them.

Or at least so it seemed.

A new richness and complexity in
our relationship began to emerge

through a mutual attention to our two daughters.

And this gave me relief from worrying about my mother.

Is it true Lila offered you a job?

I'm not sure I would call it a job...

She wants us to work for a client of hers in Baiano.

And you?

What are we gonna do in Baiano?

You pieces of sh*t! What you gonna do in Baiano?

Shut up, Lenù.

Don't be like this.

That poor woman is doing it out of pity for me

and out of friendship for your sister.

She knows you don't deserve anything!

Calm down, it's not good for you...

- Shut up, as*h*le!
- Mamma.

I know what you two deserve,

to stay where you are,

to live in the filth you live in.

No, Mamma.

Why are you crying?

Because I'm sorry.

Don't treat us like this.

Why, do you love me?

Of course, what kind of question is that?

Well, if you do love me,

you gotta let me die with my heart at peace.

Yes, Mamma.

Go to Lila today,

tell her the job's perfect, thank her...

Tell her you accept with pleasure.

Is that clear?

Yes, Mamma.

I didn't hear you, Peppino.

All right, Mamma.

And you know you can't fool me.

Lila tells me everything.

You gotta do it now.

Now send in Marcello.

I love you, Ma.

Bye, Ma.

You mustn't get worked up like this.

How can I not?

It's bad for you.

I wanna talk to Marcello.

He's coming.

Imma...

Mamma.

Do you need anything?

For you to marry my daughter.

I mean it.

I know.

The only reason we haven't gotten married yet

is because we're waiting for you to recover.

And seeing as you're better now,

yesterday we decided to do the paperwork.

Then, do the paperwork and
get married as soon as possible.

Yes, Mamma.

You want to save Peppe and Gianni

and you marry your daughter to Marcello?

Be quiet.

Mom, the girls want to see you.

The girls are here.

Go on, don't be scared.

Come.

Come.

Sit down.

Gently, Dede.

Come to Grandma.

Now I'm content.

Truly.

You're the only one left I'm worried about.

But you are you,

you've always fixed things the way you want.

So I'll have to trust you.

What do you want me to make now that I'm coming home?

French fries.

- For you too?
- Yes.

Doesn't Mamma know how to make them?

Doesn't she know how to make them?

Just then, for the first
time, I felt the impact of time,

the force that was pushing me towards forty,

the speed at which life was consumed,

the concreteness of exposure to death.

If it's happening to her, I
thought, there's no escape,

it will happen to me too.

I struggled to accept my mother's death.

Even though I didn't shed a
tear, my grief lasted a long time.

And, perhaps, it has never truly gone away.

My condolences.

I'm sorry,

but this is what we are:

neighborhood people who are born and die.

We can't fool ourselves we'll become who knows what.

That goes for you and your friend too.

I'm sorry.

In the following days, I felt how you
do when there's a sudden downpour,

you look around and you
can't find a place to take shelter.

For weeks I saw her and heard her everywhere,

night and day.

She was a flame that, in my imagination,

continued to burn without a wick.

When did you arrive?

The other day.

Where are you staying?

At the Jolly Hotel.

Almost a year had passed,

but my mother kept shaking me,

as if she wanted to take over my body,

leaving inside me the signs of her limp.

Sweetheart.

What are you doing awake?

Dede, Elsa, there's dessert.

- What dessert did you make?
- Baba.

- With rum in it?
- A tiny bit.

There you go.

Thank you.

She doesn't have to follow you at all costs...

I'd gladly have done without her too,

but there's not even one author
who has met their deadline.

You see...

Thank you.

I've written two thirds of the
book and I have notes for the rest.

I'll complete it in no time.

Whenever you like, I'll send
it to you. It's not a threat.

All right.

An important publisher like
you, can't not deal with FIAT.

I'm saying this regardless of my book.

It occurred to me that the robotization of FIAT

is a perfect synecdoche for the working world.

In fact, for the world.

But the Left is convinced
that capitalism is at a standstill,

but instead it has moved.

But we use outdated formulas
that don't grasp the change.

Instead we must study, remove our blinders.

- Do you like it?
- It's very good.

- What did you study?
- I'm a biologist.

Thank God, a scientist!

See?

Marx was a scientist.

But today, he'd roll up his sleeves

and collect data, reformulate hypotheses,

and he'd declare himself a non-Marxist.

And if that's not a paradox...

When the formulas are worn out,
you need the courage to put them aside.

The Left knows it, but doesn't have the nerve to say so

because it's locked up in its enclosure.

We need to come out of these enclosures, get fresh air.

We need to have the courage to enter parties, banks,

television, the so-called halls of power.

We need to enter them,
disassemble them and restyle them.

My book isn't about redecorating,

but rather about work, I assure you.

It's interesting, perhaps we can discuss it later.

And you?

Me?

I wanted to have a chat with you.

About what?

Can I schedule the release of your book for the fall?

This fall?

Fall 1982?

Fall 1982, of course.

Maybe, I'll know better in a while.

You have to know now.

- I don't feel ready.
- Until now you've been very lucky.

Your last book did very well, you're respected,

you've gained many readers.

But readers have to be
cultivated, because if you lose them,

you lose the chance to publish other books.

Have you read that article about the new writers?

"Elena Greco is a meteor."

They write whatever they feel like.

Yet they wrote it.

It's Adele's suggestion, as we both know.

Don't you want to prove everyone wrong?

Nino, are you a slow writer too?

I'm very chaotic.

I work on more than one project at once, so...

If you ask me for a book in
October, you get it in October.

But as you can see, this isn't necessarily a virtue.

The truth is that it's not a good moment for essays.

- Are you tired? We'd better go.
- Yes, yes.

Thank you.

All right.

Yes, I'll give you my book
in time to publish it in the fall.

At last some good news.

Let's have a toast.

To Elena.

To Elena!

Actually standing up.

It's obvious that Adele is still at w*r with me.

Now I'm in trouble.

Don't get hung up on the Airotas' plots.

It went well, didn't it?

All you had to do was promise
you'd work. He was very pleased.

He calmed right down.

- He did, but I didn't.
- Don't tell me...

What do you mean?

Nothing, nothing.

When am I going to write this book?

How will I find the time to focus and commit?

Do you know what my life is like?

Come on, you'll find a way.

My mother fell ill and then died,

I still had to take care of Dede and Elsa, of the house.

And on top of that, my pregnancy, Imma...

None of which you helped me with.

In fact, you take no interest at all.

Me? What are you talking about?

You run from one conference to
the next, more often without me.

Am I supposed to give up
conferences because you can't travel?

Not to mention the disgust.

Disgust, yes

at sharing you with Eleonora.

Here we go again!

You always drag Eleonora into it.

- Now I'm the one who drags her into it?
- Lower your voice.

I'm about to be divorced from Pietro,

just look at where you are.

You haven't even separated from her.

Can I write amid all this tension?

Only you matter.

You must have peace, no problems
or, poor thing, you can't work...

But we hired Silvana to help
you with the girls and the house.

No, Silvana doesn't do homework with the girls,

she doesn't take them out and about.

And above all, she doesn't solve the real issue:

that you've stayed with your wife.

When you're like this, there's no talking to you.

And you're also unjust...

because I love you.

I do what I can. I love you, the girls,

I can't do without Imma.

You love me, yes...

But you don't even care about my work anymore.

What are you talking about?

When you used to come to
Florence, you urged me to write,

you stimulated me, you imposed it on me.

Now you don't even know what I want to write,

what's in my head.

Wait a minute...

if you just said you don't know
what to write, how should I know?

See what you do...

It's unbelievable.

The words my mother said to me at the end,

stayed with me for a long time.

She died sure that, because of my temperament,

the resources I'd secured,

nothing would ever overwhelm me.

This idea made its way inside
me and, in the end, helped me.

I decided to prove her right,

and I began to take care of myself.

I had to think of my future,

f*ck grocery shopping and all the rest of it.

My future was to put together
a novel in just a few months.

And that novel had to be very good.

Nothing, not even Nino, would
prevent me from doing my work well.

Let's be honest, Enrico's very boring.

You were annoyed by what he said about your essay.

- He was a bit offhand.
- What do I care?

When it's finished, I'll send it
to him. We'll see what he says.

Whereas she, Clara

was more interesting.

She's definitely better than him.

I didn't doubt it.

Why?

Is it possible that stupid women don't exist?

I didn't say that.

But by and large, you're always better than us.

- I'm better than you?
- Absolutely yes.

And I've known it for a very long time.

Out of curiosity,

in your life, have you ever met a b*tch?

Yes.

Tell me her name.

- Tell me.
- No, you'll get mad.

I won't get mad.

Lila.

Hurry up, it's late!

Elsa's slow.

Silvana, dry your hands. Take the baby.

We're out of diapers.

Now I'll go buy them.

Meanwhile, I'll use the cloth like we used to.

Yes, good idea.

Don't let her cry, Nino' sleeping.

- Come on.
- Yeah.

I've already made lunch, but wait for me to feed her.

Hang out the laundry.

Be a good girl.

Don't worry, call me if you need anything.

Don't let her sleep all morning.

Go, hurry.

When I come to pick you up, I'll wait for you down there.

- Yes.
- You say that every day.

Scatterbrain.

That morning all I could think of was him,

I'd left him sleeping,

but I hoped when he woke up he'd play with Imma,

and not just hand her over to Silvana.

Of course, I wouldn't hold my breath.

Nevertheless I let myself go for a few minutes

to free, unfettered reflection.

It seemed the connection I'd established

between my crush on him in the
neighborhood and then in high school,

and the passion that overwhelmed me

when he reappeared in the bookstore in Milan,

no longer existed.

Now I thought I could see

the fracture generated by his love for Lila.

That fracture should have
erased Nino from my life forever,

but I didn't want to consider it.

I didn't want to see it.

I preferred to forget about that couple

that was born in front of my eyes.

"I could write," I imagined,

"a story where a woman marries the man

she's been in love with since childhood.

But on her wedding night she sees

that while a part of his body belongs to her,

the other part is occupied by
her childhood friend in miniature,

a lively and imperious little woman."

f*ck, the diapers!

Silvana, I got the diapers.

You've wet yourself.

I couldn't believe it.

Was it possible that the Nino I had discovered

thrusting himself into an older woman,

was the boy from my adolescence?

I felt as if, entering the house,

I'd suddenly found in my bathroom,

an alien.

The stranger had Nino's features

but it wasn't him,

it was the other one.

The one born after Ischia,

the one who'd gotten Silvia pregnant,

he was Mariarosa's lover,

Eleonora's husband.

In reality there was no split

between the man who came after Lila

and the boy who, before Lila,

I had been in love with since childhood.

There was only one Nino.

I'm the one who needs you.

He was what he didn't want to be

and yet what he had always been.

Imma's here!

- Why did you wrap her in your coat?
- It's cold.

- She's getting it dirty.
- It doesn't matter.

Once I got it dirty and you slapped me.

- That's not true.
- It's totally true!

Why isn't she wearing a diaper?

She's fine like this.

- Something happened.
- No.

You've never come to pick us up with Imma.

- Today, we'll have lunch with Aunt Lila.
- Really?

Yes, get in.

I'll hold Imma.

- It's not fair, you always hold her.
- Stop making the usual fuss!

I'll hold her.

- I want to hold her.
- Let go of her.

Mamma, why is she holding her?

Don't pull her, you're making her cry!

f*ck off, you hold her!

Who taught you that?

- You hold her, you can get dirty!
- Stop it!

Enough!

I said enough!

See? You made her cry.

Now shut up both of you.

- Do you have a diaper?
- Of course.

Come in.

Can we stay here for a while?

Tina's in there.

Hi, Tina.

Put this on her.

Something wrong?

Yes.

What happened?

What you predicted.

You fought with Nino?

This morning, something shocking happened.

But it's not just that, if I'm honest.

I found him in the bathroom f*cking Silvana.

The lady who helps us out.

Lila, she's old.

She has gray hair, a flabby, fat body.

What I saw was ridiculous.

That as*h*le woke up,

he found Silvana in the bathroom and before peeing

he lifted her dress and put it inside her!

Did you already know?

Did Nino call you?

Did he call you?

Yes.

What did he tell you?

That it was nothing,

that I have to help you
understand that's how we live today.

Just words.

And you?

I hung up on him.

He'll call back.

No way he won't call back.

I don't know how to live without him.

It hardly lasted at all.

I broke off my marriage,

I moved here with the girls, I
had another daughter, but why?

Because you made a mistake.

I need to talk to him.

I need to confront him.

Do you really want to stay with him?

What can I do?

The only thing possible:

leave him.

You can't throw yourself away like this.

Your destiny's different,
you sweated blood to have it.

If you go on like this, you'll lose yourself.

If you have something to say to me, say it.

Nino came after me a bunch of times.

And a bunch of times he asked me to get back together.

Both before he got together with you

and after.

Remember when we took your mother to the hospital?

That time he was particularly insistent.

And while we waited to talk to the doctors,

he told me he was with you only to be closer to me.

He swore it was true.

Look at me, Lenù.

Look at me.

I'm mean to tell you these things,

but Nino's much worse than I am.

His meanness is worse, it's pure vanity.