La Grazia (2025)

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ITALIAN CONSTITUTION

Art. 87

"THE PRESIDENT OF THE REPUBLIC

IS THE HEAD OF STATE

"AND REPRESENTS

THE NATIONAL UNITY."

"HE MAY SEND MESSAGES TO THE HOUSES."

"HE CALLS THE ELECTIONS OF THE NEW HOUSES

"AND SETS THEIR FIRST MEETING."

"HE AUTHORIZES

THE SUBMISSION TO THE HOUSES

"OF THE GOVERNMENT BILLS."

"HE PROMULGATES THE LAWS

"AND ISSUES LAW DECREES AND REGULATIONS."

"HE CALLS FOR POPULAR REFERENDUMS

"IN CASES PROVIDED FOR

BY THE CONSTITUTION."

"HE APPOINTS STATE OFFICIALS

"IN CASES PROVIDED FOR BY THE LAW."

"HE ACCREDITS AND RECEIVES DIPLOMATS,

"RATIFIES INTERNATIONAL TREATIES,

"FOLLOWING AUTHORIZATION

BY THE HOUSES WHEN REQUIRED."

"HE COMMANDS THE ARMED FORCES,

"PRESIDES OVER THE SUPREME

COUNCIL OF DEFENSE SET FORTH BY LAW,

"DECLARES A STATE OF w*r

DECIDED BY THE HOUSES."

"HE PRESIDES OVER

THE HIGH COUNCIL OF THE JUDICIARY."

"HE CONFERS THE HONORIFICS

OF THE REPUBLIC."

"HE MAY GRANT PARDONS

AND COMMUTE PUNISHMENTS."

Aurora.

Aurora,

I miss you.

President De Santis

you've been smoking.

No.

You deny the evidence.

In law, evidence isn't evident.

I know, it's written in "De Santis".

Dad, must I remind you

you have only one lung?

No, since I only had two.

What are you up to?

Reviewing some sub-sections

of the bill you have to sign.

- What bill?

- You know perfectly well.

Have you heard

from your brother Riccardo?

He's happy he moved to Montreal,

he says it's beautiful.

You know him,

he finds everything beautiful.

Tomorrow we go

into the White Semester.

Six months more

and you go back home.

Now, even if I wanted to,

I couldn't dissolve the Houses.

Would you dissolve them?

No, there's no need anymore.

Problem solved.

Everything is the same as before.

Right?

No.

Still in the office, General?

When I don't work, President,

I get bored.

So do I.

In six months you'll be back home.

But we can still declare a w*r, right?

Don't tempt me.

My grandfather was

in the Alpini troops of Valpolicella.

A great section,

now led by a man of merit.

We call him the Barrel,

because of his size.

Do you have a nickname too, General?

I'm the Night-Mare.

Why?

Because of my name:

Lanfranco Mare.

And me?

Do I have a nickname?

No one would dare.

What happened to

the proverbial courage of the Alpini?

Some call you

Reinforced Concrete.

- It's a flattering nickname.

- You think so?

I'm not sure.

At 5pm,

weekly meeting

with the Prime Minister.

At 7pm, dinner with your friend,

Coco Valori.

The President of Portugal

is expected on the 21st.

Protocol wants to know

if you like this suggested menu.

"Eggplant medallions.

Sole meunire..."

Are we joking?

- Quinoa and steamed fish.

- Excellent.

The editor of Vogue would like

a statement on fashion.

Fashion is a prominent

industrial sector in Italy...

No, Dad.

- In recent years...

- Forgive me, President.

Vogue doesn't want a formal statement

on the fashion industry.

They want your opinion

on what you like to wear

when you're not in your suit.

The suggested title is

The Elegance of the President.

My wife was elegant.

Excellent.

I'll politely decline the request.

Anything else?

The connection with

Engineer Giordano is still pending.

He's in orbit in the space station.

- How long has he been in orbit?

- A year.

- How long until he comes back?

- Six months.

We have plenty of time

until my term ends.

Hence,

at this point, I'd say: excellent.

And the opposition?

As always, pretending to be angry.

So, after years of tribulations,

everything's going well,

the country is secure thanks to you.

And I've become irrelevant,

which is, what it is.

I wouldn't say irrelevant,

you still have to sign the bill

on the right to euthanasia.

Talking of which,

the Pope wants to see me.

It would be odd if he didn't.

Will you sign it?

My legal advisers

are honing some crucial points.

Will six months be enough?

President, it's a good law.

Stay to dinner with my daughter and I.

An old school friend of mine

will be there too,

Coco Valori, she's fun.

- With great pleasure.

- A light dinner.

My daughter is trying to keep me alive

by turning me into an ascetic.

I struggled so much

on your manual, President.

2,046 pages, we students

used to call it "Himalaya, K3."

- But K3 doesn't exist.

- Exactly, it was impossible to scale it.

Well, that renders the idea.

That's what criminal law is,

scaling the impossible.

MANUAL OF CRIMINAL LAW

If I may ask,

what do you mean by impossible?

To establish the truth.

Are you done fiddling around

with your boring small-minded Italy?

See? Coco is super fun.

True, only assholes are fun.

And I'm both.

You look rejuvenated!

Dori was right to cut out

your smoking and pasta.

- Giulio Malerba.

- Coco Valori, parody of an art critic.

Not at all, you're an institution.

Then tell me why my oldest friend,

who's now Head of State,

hasn't given me a museum to direct?

It doesn't fall within my purview,

sanctioned by Article 87

of the Constitution.

I was joking.

I'd burn down all museums.

Prime Minister, I've known

this monolith for 56 years.

Coco, let's not talk about me,

I'm the most boring subject I know.

I adore him,

he always tells the truth.

Desk mates from day one in high school.

He owes me everything.

I introduced him

to Aurora, my best friend.

Without me he'd never have

had the courage to court her.

Aurora was a beauty,

he was an acquired taste, to be kind.

Thanks to me,

the marvelous Dori arrived.

- Have you met Riccardo?

- No, I haven't had the pleasure.

- He lives in Canada.

- What does he do?

- He composes classical music.

- Nonsense!

He writes songs for American pop stars

and earns more than all of us.

When is the contemporary

dance festival starting?

I'll let you know.

Are you happy that in six months

you'll leave this museum

and go home amid your law books?

- I confess I am happy.

- He doesn't speak, he confesses.

He's a great Catholic

and I'm a great atheist.

That's why we get on, right?

Ugo Romani, your Minister of Justice,

was in our class too,

did you know?

Yes, because Romani has

a passion for old class photos.

- He collects them.

- So much for passion.

Ugo's another long-time friend.

But he was repeating the year.

He's one year older.

Handsome but dumb.

Him becoming a minister

is an enigma like the Shroud of Turin.

- But is he competent?

- Very.

I don't trust you.

You politicians have a hysterical

relationship with the truth.

- I'm a politician too.

- No, you're a jurist.

- As kids...

- Enough with prehistory.

Rather, what's the latest

in your scintillating art world?

It's a morgue, in comparison

this is like Ibiza.

Everyone claiming they're artists

but they're not worth

De Chirico's pinkie.

I was a protge of the maestro's.

He liked me a lot

physically too, I was 21...

For years, she's been stoking

the legend she was De Chirico's lover.

Coco, stop it,

this is not the place.

This is precisely the place.

It's covered by state secret.

Sooner or later state secrets

become public domain.

Please, let me be public domain!

I can't wait!

What are you doing for your birthday?

Nothing.

Full of surprises as usual!

The diet's one thing,

but you're starving him to death.

I'm off, I have a dinner

with some Hungarian dealers.

- Another dinner?

- This wasn't dinner, but a suggestion.

- Prime Minister, it was a pleasure.

- Pleasure was mine.

- Darling, I'll call you tomorrow.

- I'll see you out.

- How did you find him?

- Your father's indestructible.

- I need a gift for his birthday.

- For Reinforced Concrete: a pickaxe.

- What's worrying you?

- He keeps everything inside.

- You're the same.

- In what way?

You're stiff,

you don't know how to relax.

Follow my example,

I'm light despite an outrageous

22 kilos of excess weight.

But he's oppressed

by the weight of responsibility.

And you?

- Do you have something to say?

- Just goodnight.

Do you like Gu's rap?

It's idiotic!

I detest the refrains of modern music.

Malerba kissing her hand,

didn't he strike you as unctuous?

Did you know my nickname

is Reinforced Concrete?

Everyone knows.

Why didn't you ever tell me?

I didn't want to stir up

your subconscious.

Good call.

PETITIONS FOR PARDONS

- Don't tell me...

- But I do tell you.

Two petitions for pardons worth examining.

Lately we've neglected

this side of things.

The Minister of Justice

is promoting them.

My office and I unanimously

agree on the Arpa case.

The Rocca case is more complex.

Our opinion is negative.

Would you handle it?

You have Ms Gallo

and a team of jurists, why me?

Dorotea, you are the jurist

your father holds in the highest regard.

- After him.

- It goes without saying.

Honor to the President

of the Portuguese Republic.

Colonel,

do I look that old too?

No, President.

Do you believe me?

I always believe you.

But lately, when I pray

I fall asleep.

I crash.

For a few minutes.

And I never dream.

Would you like to dream?

Very much.

I'd like you

to find out something for me.

What?

The title of a song.

I never got over it, Aurora.

I never got over your passing.

It's been eight years now.

You left me a widower, alone, old,

useless and worn out.

And life, without you,

no longer excites me.

But let's not talk about me.

You know,

I'm the most boring subject I know.

Let's talk about you.

I was just a kid.

My family had just moved

from the provinces of Naples.

I saw you from our farmhouse

and I was struck by a precise thought:

she's immortal.

For a moment

your feet didn't touch the ground,

they were suspended,

as if in zero gravity.

Unforgettable.

Aurora, when I remember,

I die.

And so, shh, shh

If you don't get sh*t

On the 39th floor

Smoking a hookah

I got the flow

The temperature rises

And now all these chicks are cryin'

Lean out window

O my dealer

Dreamin' of a Bentley

Ridin' in six in a Clio

Dreamin' of dough

And a heart donor

Snooty babes

Give 'em a hard-on

Now I'm livin' my dream

I expect no respect

You're serious, you reflect...

Remember when I dedicated

that little poem to you?

It was called Autumns.

You didn't like it. You were right.

I've never been much of a poet.

But you? What were you?

A disarming smile,

and then what else?

A lie.

Yes.

That lie!

How much did that shadow

loom over our life back then?

I know you'd say,

"It was so long ago, stop it.

"We loved each other."

Then why hasn't time healed me, Aurora?

Why, since that day,

40 years ago,

have I never moved on?

I'm Reinforced Concrete.

Now I understand

the secret origin of my nickname.

How is he?

He's recovering quickly.

Elvis is indestructible.

Colonel, how did you find

that song title so quickly?

A cuirassier has to know

how to do it all,

even be a secret agent.

What's wrong?

- When I pray, I doze off.

- Then, don't pray.

This morning at Mass

the priest spoke about life after death.

I bet he said

life doesn't belong to us.

Yes, in passing.

I think that when I'm dead,

I'll still be with you,

close to you and your brother,

but without ever interfering.

How's that different from now

that you're alive?

Why are you so bitter?

Because you never interfere,

you always play it safe,

that's how you faced

six government crises.

Maybe.

The old Christian Democrat culture

hangs over me.

But the Christian Democrats,

at crucial times, knew how to decide.

They did, but do you?

What do you want to ask me?

We've been working

on the euthanasia bill for three months.

Me, Ms Gallo,

the entire legal team, day and night.

Filing down, cutting, correcting.

All this to please you.

But it's useless,

because you'll never sign that bill.

Signing that bill requires courage

that you don't have.

- No, it's not like that.

- Then what is it like?

You're reducing the matter

to a conflict between courage and fear.

- But that isn't the point.

- And what is?

If I don't sign, I'm a torturer,

if I do sign, I'm a m*rder*r.

That is the point.

Actually, that is the dilemma.

You know the theory

of the slippery slope, right?

Very well.

The Holocaust is the final result

of an innocuous

and generous initial intention:

to ease the suffering

of those who are ill.

If the legislator yields on A,

in time they'll yield up to N.

First, it can't be proved

and besides it won't happen.

Why?

Because thanks to you,

we're better than you.

It just comes down to one question.

- There are many questions.

- No, just one.

Who owns our days?

Who owns our days?

Thank you, Sister.

Now tell me something.

In spite of all these clouds,

it's a beautiful day.

Women's smiles are changing the world.

Isn't that so?

I find you very optimistic, Holy Father.

My friend, my friend.

You are my friend.

My dear friend.

You wish to ask me something, don't you?

- I can tell.

- Yes, I do.

Go ahead, you can ask

anything of a friend.

I feel lonely, Your Holiness.

You are elderly,

aches and pains are frequent,

your political and social function

is running out,

the horizon is approaching,

your children's heads

and hearts are elsewhere,

your wife passed away.

The past is a burden.

The future?

A void.

You are certainly

not lacking in sincerity.

Lies are for country priests,

I am the Pope.

Listen carefully.

Are you afflicted with loneliness

or are you simply weighed down

by the length of life?

Can you still remember

what it means to feel light?

Have you ever been light?

Light?

- I don't know...

- Et voil.

No one knows.

No one.

God suggests questions

and carefully avoids giving answers.

He keeps us alive with mystery.

It is not our task to provide answers.

It is not the task of science,

not even of the science of law,

of which you are

an illustrious representative.

This is why I am sure

that you will not sign that law of death.

Right?

Right, my friend?

I, you...

No one can answer.

- Happy birthday, Mariano.

- Thank you, Ugo.

It's the original.

Second year of classical high school.

I kept a copy for myself.

- So many memories.

- Very thoughtful of you.

You've lost weight.

When I want to let loose,

Dorotea gives me herbal tea.

How is she?

Combative, as usual.

She accuses me of lacking

the courage to sign the euthanasia bill.

A thorny and sensitive issue,

I wouldn't like to be in your shoes.

It seems immobility

is an historic trait of mine.

Did you know my nickname

is Reinforced Concrete?

They can call you whatever they like,

but you have been

a great President of the Republic.

The sixth government crisis

triggered by that irresponsible fool.

You've done an incredible job,

always sticking to the Constitution.

Are you relieved it's about to end?

Yes, I can't wait to go home.

And to regain your freedom.

At our age, freedom's not good for much.

Besides, my freedom was called Aurora.

Do you miss her?

I miss her too.

Ask me.

Very well.

When your term ends,

if my name were to come up

as a candidate for president,

would you support me?

What a question!

We've known each other forever!

- Is that why you came?

- Not only.

There's another matter, more delicate.

I want to share it with you right away,

to dispel any misunderstandings.

I don't want you to think

I'm taking advantage of our friendship.

I sent you two petitions for pardons,

one regarding Isa Rocca,

45 years old, first-degree m*rder.

She's served nine years.

Isa Rocca...

is my current partner's niece.

I know, there's a conflict of interest.

To be honest, I'm tired,

I'll entrust the examination

of the petitions to Dorotea,

as a jurist she's much sharper

than me now.

Wasn't I supposed to have quinoa tonight?

We'll make an exception for your birthday.

- Have you ever thought of remarrying?

- Never.

- Why? Mom would be happy.

- I don't think so.

- She told me so.

- Anyway, I wouldn't be happy.

Why doesn't Riccardo write

classical music again? He was so good.

Because he likes pop music, like you.

Your present.

- What is it?

- A headset for your phone.

You can't go on with CDs.

- I don't know how to use it.

- Labaro will help you.

I don't know either of you.

Riccardo and I don't know you either.

What about you?

Will you ever get married?

Did you look

at the pardon petitions?

No, I want you to handle it.

Now you have more free time,

why don't you do it?

I haven't been a judge for years now.

A judge remains a judge all his life.

I wonder what Engineer Giordano is up to

in his space capsule.

He's probably sleeping.

It mustn't be easy

to sleep without gravity.

Or maybe it is.

Mosquitoes.

A cuirassier has to know

how to do it all.

Aurora,

why did you cheat on me

40 years ago?

Aurora,

why, on the day of your funeral

did I have the distinct feeling

that your lover was there?

You never wanted to reveal his name

but I sensed his presence.

Aurora, he was there.

What are you doing?

You're losing your grip.

Go back to your seat.

Go back to your seat.

Will you handle the pardon petitions?

I'm examining the dossiers, yes.

What do you make of them?

Isa Rocca's case moved me.

But it's irrelevant because

from an ethical standpoint

granting her a pardon is a gamble.

- I don't think Dad...

- I know her.

You should meet her.

What do you mean?

Go visit her in jail, she's in Turin.

- It will give you a clearer picture.

- There's no need.

The legal picture

can be inferred from the files.

Files aren't everything,

there are people too.

Do you think Dad

will sign the euthanasia bill?

I don't think so.

But if I were to take his place,

I'll do it.

"Isa Rocca, born in Rome,

on 9 October 1980.

Convicted of the first-degree m*rder

of her husband Alessio Picone.

Alessio Picone, born in Rome,

on 2 August 1975,

"he oppressed, threatened,

beat Isa Rocca for 15 years."

"Cristiano Arpa,

born in Turin, on 3 February 1951.

History teacher at the classical

high school in Moncalieri, Turin.

Convicted of the first-degree m*rder

of his wife Diana Della Ragione,

suffering from Alzheimer's.

'I'd like to thank my students

for their solidarity,

'but I don't think I deserve a pardon.

"'I didn't measure up.'"

I called you in because

I don't remember my schedule.

In two hours you'll receive

the Lithuanian ambassador.

Right, I'd forgotten.

Remember, on Wednesday

there's the contemporary dance opening.

The editor of Vogue...

Excellent.

Excellent.

I'll prepare for the meeting.

Very well, then.

As always it was a productive meeting.

Perhaps our last,

my term is coming to an end.

Mine too.

- What's your next posting?

- I don't know.

But I've decided to take

a one-year sabbatical

and to stay in Rome,

so I can finally visit the city.

And seeing as your term is also ending,

maybe, if you'd care to,

you could show me the monuments

I've been unable to see so far.

Soon we'll be two free citizens.

- It's a bizarre idea.

- Still, it's an idea.

I nearly forgot to tell you...

Short hair becomes you.

Your same way of walking, Aurora.

What did you wear back then, Aurora?

What was in fashion?

We were just kids.

Elvis?

What's wrong?

He was doing well.

He had a relapse.

Let's put him down.

No, keep him alive.

President,

he's in agony.

I have decided.

Ask me.

Do you want to read

the latest draft on euthanasia?

The orange highlighter.

Here.

Excellent.

Article 4, sub-section 1:

misleading, cut it.

Sub-section 2:

clarify the meaning of agony.

Sub-section 3:

add "only in cases provided for by law."

Article 4:

add "subject to written medical opinion."

"As well as a second opinion."

Article 5, sub-section 1:

misleading, cut it.

Clarify agony.

Go back to sub-section 3: clarify agony.

If you seriously address these points,

I'll consider signing it.

- Dad, I...

- Let's move on to the pardon petitions.

"Cristiano Arpa, 73 years old.

Married for 35 years,

no children,

high school history teacher,

his wife, suffering

from Alzheimer's for seven years.

He applied for early retirement

to take care of her.

A year after obtaining it,

he strangled her.

He maintains, 'I was no longer able

to bear her continuous

fits of rage and violence.'

He didn't ask for a pardon,

his ex-students did.

He has been in jail for 15 years,

he confessed and says

he does not deserve a pardon.

The petitioners attached love letters

the teacher wrote to his wife

during her illness.

He doesn't read anymore,

he barely eats,

he doesn't go out for yard time,

he doesn't want any visitors,

"he is letting himself die."

What do you think?

Dad, what's wrong?

Today, I happened to see

the truth up close.

The law always

shows it from a distance.

We've reserved a room

for you to wait in, madam.

Thank you.

How are you?

I met my husband at university.

After the first kiss he fainted.

Immediately, I loved him more than myself.

You should never love anyone

more than yourself.

I know.

You don't know anything.

Why not?

Because you're free.

You would be too,

if you hadn't stabbed

your husband 18 times in his sleep.

I had to.

- You had to?

- He was terminally ill.

What did he suffer from?

From his obsessions.

- Your husband was healthy.

- No.

He was broken.

He was broken inside,

I freed him.

- I deserve a pardon.

- You won't get far with that theory.

You don't know anything

because you've never loved.

Enough, you know nothing about me.

You're a moron, I know that much.

Why did you come here?

To make an attempt.

But you being unlikeable doesn't help.

Pardons are granted

out of clemency not for sympathy.

Clemency is not enough,

it requires a legal pretext,

you don't have any.

Euthanasia.

I freed my husband

from his terminal illness.

It was euthanasia.

In Italy we don't have

a law on euthanasia.

As an aggravating factor,

it seems you had a lover.

Of course I had a lover.

The least I could do,

my husband burned my hair in my sleep,

he locked me in the basement

and turned off the light.

Of course I had a lover.

I needed to breathe too.

You're not breathing, madam.

At least write a letter

of sincere repentance.

- If you asked for forgiveness--

- From whom?

From God?

Under these conditions

the President of the Republic

won't grant you a pardon.

But he will.

Why should he?

Because I've suffered.

And your father knows it.

I'm not breathing.

I know.

I need a coffee.

Certainly, ma'am.

Marco, leave him.

Although you might think the opposite,

she was pleased to meet you.

- You are...?

- Yes, I come here every day.

- To meet her?

- No.

You can only meet inmates once a week.

- So why do you come?

- Me?

I'm waiting for her.

It's not him.

- Then, who is it?

- I swore to Aurora I'd never tell you!

You swore on what?

You're an atheist!

I promised her!

That promise isn't valid, Aurora is dead.

Now you have to tell me!

I want the name of my wife's lover!

I've been wondering for 40 years!

Get the f*ck off my back!

Get the f*ck off my back!

You can't speak to the President

of the Republic like that.

Arrest me for contempt of the State,

but I'll never say that name!

Hi, Riccardo.

How am I?

Got a backup question?

Dad?

He's fine.

He only smokes one cigarette a day

and after 7 years at the Quirinale Palace

he's scared to go home.

Today I met Isa Rocca,

she told me I'm a moron,

but I wasn't offended.

She said I've never loved anyone,

and I wasn't offended.

She says I'm not breathing

and that broke me.

It broke me inside.

Yes, Riccardo, sooner or later

I'll come visit you.

At the caf, I met her new partner,

he spends all day outside her cell.

Doing what?

Waiting for her.

Are the changes alright?

The government

has accepted your suggestions.

You can sign now.

Why did this man, Cristiano Arpa,

stop reading and receiving visitors?

Why has he stopped living?

- You're changing the subject.

- You're right.

On Ugo's advice,

I went to visit Isa Rocca in prison.

It doesn't follow the rituals.

But you said

one must see the truth up close.

No, I said I happened to see it.

- I'm tired of rituals.

- I can understand that.

Tell me about Isa Rocca.

Her husband tortured her for years.

He'd lock her

in a basement with no light,

he'd burn her hair, he'd beat her.

But she k*lled him in his sleep,

18 stab wounds.

It's first-degree m*rder.

I know.

Is she repentant?

- Is she repentant?

- Yes, yes.

You don't know how to lie.

She maintains that by k*lling him

she freed him

from a terminal psychic disorder.

- For her it's euthanasia.

- We don't have a law on euthanasia.

And yet, she deserves a pardon.

- It requires a legal pretext.

- I know.

Yet, she deserves a pardon

beyond any reasonable doubt.

Here's the doubt:

Isa Rocca is the niece

of the Minister of Justice's partner.

- Ugo?

- Yes, Ugo Romani.

Ugo and I have been friends

since high school,

if I granted this pardon,

public opinion would destroy me.

Bureaucracy.

Everyone hates it

because it slows things down,

but that's what it is for.

- What is it for?

- To avoid hurried decisions.

I need more time to reflect.

There's a problem

with the audio connection,

we can't speak with Engineer Giordano.

He doesn't know we're connected.

It doesn't matter,

I'll stay and watch him for a while.

"My love,

behind the cultured and serious

appearance I have built,

I realize I have always

been inhabited by a single goal:

love,

my boundless love for you.

Today this love has become impossible,

that's why, soon,

you will no longer be.

Therefore, I shall no longer be.

I'll try to let myself live,

awaiting our next mysterious meeting,

what the world calls

by a beautiful word:

the beyond.

"Yours always, Cristiano."

- Can I tell you a joke?

- No.

Pity, because it was funny.

Want one?

It was you.

What did I do?

You were Aurora's lover 40 years ago.

Mariano?

If this is the ploy

you've come up with

to tell me you won't grant

Isa Rocca a pardon, spare me.

You can tell me directly.

It was you.

Listen, at the risk of

committing contempt of the State,

I have to say it:

you've lost your mind.

How can you think that?

I've been your best friend

since high school.

It was you.

I know.

Ugo.

What does my dad think about

when he smokes?

About your mother.

My mother?

Yes.

Ask me.

Ask me.

Why don't you let him go?

Because he didn't ask me to.

- Where are you going?

- I have nothing left to do here.

Besides, I haven't taken

a vacation in years.

I'll go to Montreal to visit Riccardo.

I could come too,

I haven't seen him in ages.

No, Riccardo and I have decided

to spend time together

by ourselves, as siblings.

You're punishing me for not signing

that bill you cared so much about.

It doesn't matter,

Ugo Romani will sign it

when he takes your place.

Oh, yes? I wouldn't be so sure.

Why are you so interested in that law?

What kind of question is that?

If the world no longer excites you,

you can't expect others

to stop being excited by it.

You're leaving to punish me.

You don't understand anything.

What should I understand?

I don't want to be here

when you leave the Quirinale for good.

It's true, I don't understand anything.

I've never understood

who your brother is,

who you are.

I don't know if you have friends,

a boyfriend, a girlfriend.

The only thing I know about you

is that you study law every day.

And that I've sacrificed my life

taking care of you?

Don't you even know that?

But now you don't need me anymore.

To be honest, you've never needed me.

Everything you've always needed

is "more time to reflect."

Your term is about to end, Dad,

when will you ever decide on anything?

Soon.

You don't know anything about me either.

I know what you let me know.

Forty years ago,

your mother

betrayed me with another man.

I've never gotten over it, f*ck it!

I've never heard you swear

in all my life.

Me neither.

What can I say, Dad?

It was 40 years ago,

it's past the statute of limitations.

It's time to recover,

to make some changes.

I have to go, the plane's leaving.

I'll call you when I land.

I'm confused.

An astronaut cries in space

and then laughs at his tears.

Coco Valori is ready

to burn down the museums,

but she won't reveal

the name I want to hear,

she doesn't want

to betray an old friendship.

But isn't she my friend too?

A beautiful woman

asked me to go out with her.

I see her walking away, free, jaunty.

So, I get a glimpse

of what happiness is made of.

And the light wasn't even that great.

I don't eat much, I smoke even less.

Yet, the lung I don't have, hurts.

My children...

have organized things without me.

They're smart,

they know the future,

I don't even know the past.

And then there's my best friend,

I've...

I've offended him,

worse, I've humiliated him.

There's also a man

who no longer reads,

who doesn't see anyone.

What does he know?

What does he know that I don't know?

Yet another man waits for his partner

every day outside a prison,

in the rain, in the cold, in the heat.

I think of my wife every day,

I adored her,

and I hated her,

she betrayed me.

And yet I've continued

to love and respect her,

even though the only reasonable idea

that came to mind

was to k*ll her, but I didn't.

Why?

Lastly, there's this horse, Holy Father.

He's dying.

We're all suffering

together with this horse.

You know what you have, my friend?

What?

Grace.

And what's that?

Scan us through if we get there

Name the sentence

The bros got on their back

Ten years in the head

Three on the iPhone, four in the pocket

So long Retail

Yay, Sebastian Ingrosso

Black Amex and Gold Visa

Crushin' it up

Two half-Filipinas

In Philipp Plein sneakers

Purple haze in the sky

My bank accounts swell

Yo, when ya rap

The chicks are cryin'

And so, shh, shh

If you don't get sh*t

On the 39th floor

Smoking a hookah

I got the flow

The temperature rises

And now all these chicks are cryin'

Lean out the window

O my dealer

And now all these chicks are cryin'

President.

- Elvis...

- I need more time to reflect.

It won't be necessary.

You don't have to take this decision.

Elvis died.

Of natural causes?

Yes, of natural causes.

President, there's the opening night

at La Scala in Milan.

Good,

but first I want to go

where I met Aurora.

The prison where

Arpa's being held is near there,

- I want to talk to him.

- It doesn't follow the rituals.

I'm tired of rituals.

Usually this form of rebellion

appears at 18.

Forgive me, President.

I want to ask you something, secretary.

Who owns our days?

No one knows.

Let's try to find out.

From the trusted roofs of the village

The valiant Alpini have left

They show the strength and courage

Of their firm youth

They are handsome cadets from the Alps

In the robust youth

From their bold strong hearts

Breathes an indomitable pride

O you valiant Alpino

Always defend the frontier

And there on the border

Always keep the flag high

Sentry, stand guard

Defending our Italian soil

Where love smiles

And more benign the sun shines

There, amid forests and ravines

There, in the cold fog and ice

They strongly strike their pickaxes

And the paths seem shorter

And when the sun burns and heats

The mountaintops and the depths

The valiant Alpino guards and looks

Ready to ask, "Who goes there?"

O you valiant Alpino

You always defend the frontier

And there, at the border

Always keep the flag high

Sentry, stand guard

Defending our Italian soil

Where love smiles

And more benign the sun shines

NONE SHALL PASS HERE

NONE SHALL PASS HERE

I'll resign

two weeks before the end of my term.

Why, President?

Because that way,

as a senator for life

I'll be entitled to vote

for the next President of the Republic.

President, will you allow a compliment?

Please.

You are very, very clever.

Yes.

I've heard that too.

I used to live here.

And she walked by.

Why are these two chairs here?

I don't know exactly.

Mr. Mayor,

what's your stand

on the pardon petition for Arpa?

It's an example of how

the community unites for a cause.

Arpa taught generations

of students in this town

and he was always loved and respected.

Everyone was moved

by the way Arpa took care

of his poor wife with Alzheimer's.

The petition for a pardon

was signed by all the citizens.

All of them?

That's surprising.

Almost all of them.

- Who didn't sign?

- Only two people.

Who are they?

My wife

and I.

- Why?

- This is a small town.

I didn't ask you how big the town is,

I asked why you two didn't sign.

My wife has never liked Cristiano Arpa.

- And she adds...

- What does she add?

According to my wife

it wasn't Alzheimer's that caused her

to have violent fits of rage.

But this is only my wife's opinion.

What was it, then?

My wife claims that Arpa

had another woman for some time.

Why is Cristiano Arpa

letting himself die?

I don't know.

What does your wife say about it?

She maintains that it's a tactic

to move you,

to increase the chance

of receiving a pardon.

She also adds...

What?

That Cristiano Arpa is very clever.

- That's just her opinion.

- What's yours?

My wife is also very clever.

What if it's a mistake?

What?

Coming here.

Meeting Cristiano Arpa in prison,

in an attempt

to come closer to the truth.

May I talk frankly?

It's madness.

But you are a great jurist,

you can find out the truth.

Don't cut him any slack,

put his back to the wall.

General, this is not a w*r.

Pity.

Have you ever done anything foolish?

Once.

I inspected my son Antonio's room.

In a drawer, inside a pencil case,

I found a joint.

I smoked it.

And did it have any effect?

No,

because I don't know how to inhale.

And you?

I've never been brave.

You jurists and we military men

thought that law and discipline

would have divested us

of the annoying duty

of possessing sensibility.

But that's not how it went.

Do you want to meet Isa Rocca too?

She's also detained here.

I don't see the need.

President, we've reserved a room

for you to wait in.

No, I'll wait with the others.

You taught history?

Do you miss teaching?

I never taught anything,

I only enthusiastically acted out

what was written in the books.

My students appreciated me

because I was a rather good actor.

Did you only act at school

or at home too?

Forgive me, but there's no point

in answering this question.

If you're a good actor

you're never believed,

whatever the answer may be.

- They say you had a mistress.

- It's not true.

I have no intention

of putting you on trial.

Thank you.

Thank the Lord, my sentence

was passed in a short time.

I turned myself in immediately.

That's not an attenuating circumstance.

No, but it's a fact.

You stated you don't deserve a pardon.

You don't seem interested

in regaining your freedom.

At my age, freedom's not good for much.

- Did your wife have Alzheimer's?

- Final stage.

Her life was a living hell.

And mine too.

So you k*lled her

to free her from suffering?

- No, I k*lled her out of love.

- Out of love.

I've heard this story too many times.

Each time I don't understand it.

Love as an alibi for death.

For me, love is a celebration of life.

You're absolutely right,

but unfortunately that's not the point.

What is the point for you?

The point is that it's not always easy

to live up to one's principles.

In short, you don't want a pardon?

Everyone in my town wants it.

Not everyone.

In a letter written to your wife

a few days before strangling her,

you say,

"I'll try to let myself live."

But now you've changed your mind.

You're letting yourself die.

You're claiming that I'm acting?

No, I detect an incongruency.

And incongruencies lead to doubt.

That's why it takes 2,046 pages

to write a manual of criminal law.

But I don't see any incongruency,

letting yourself live is the same

as letting yourself die.

Why are you letting yourself die?

Because I only want to forget

and become light again.

"Cold, you heat up.

Darkness, you light up.

I'm lost,

you will find me.

Not now,

tomorrow.

One, ten,

"a hundred autumns."

You saved us from that rash fool!

President, you saved us!

See the warm welcome you got at La Scala?

The country loves you.

Soon they'll love Ugo Romani.

What are you blathering about?

Didn't you know?

Ugo wants to become

the President of the Republic.

Good Lord!

Before retiring,

couldn't you sign a bill

that definitively

bans ambition in our country?

What's wrong, darling?

It was a good line.

When I pray, I fall asleep.

Lucky you, I need two sleeping pills.

Aurora dreamed every night

and in the morning she'd give me

detailed and surreal accounts.

They enchanted me.

Do you ever dream?

Never.

Would you like to?

Very much.

What would you like to dream about?

Aurora?

The absence of gravity.

Okay, I'll tell you.

It wasn't Ugo.

You've already told me that

and I didn't believe you.

Mariano, it wasn't Ugo.

Then who was it?

Me.

Congratulations.

I say sorry after

Not please before

A splatter film in my head

I drink chocolate milk like in Clockers

A pile of cash

Like a Double Whopper

The Italian nightmare

If you're broke

A red target

Like Metal Gear Solid

I look at the sea

And I see a sea of money

You turn up the volume

I turn up the income

Scan us through if we get there

Name the sentence

The bros got on their back

EUTHANASIA

We didn't get along very well.

But we were clever enough

to keep it to ourselves.

No,

we weren't clever,

we were elegant.

Would it be a problem if I walked home?

I haven't taken a walk in seven years.

Not a problem, we'll sort it out.

Excellent.

What if she lied?

Who?

Coco.

About what?

I'll never know with absolute certainty

who my wife's lover was.

May I offer a criticism?

Yes.

But be gentle.

You attach too much

importance to the truth.

It's a professional quirk among judges.

But now you're retired.

What are your plans

for tonight, President?

I'll order a pizza.

I've given you a small present.

Where is it?

You'll find it. In due course.

A cuirassier knows how to hide things.

To avoid showing emotion in public.

A cuirassier knows how to do it all.

Hello?

This is Mariano De Santis,

former President of the Republic.

Oh, f*ck!

Forgive me.

You're forgiven.

But you have my number?

I took the liberty

asking Ms Cafiero for it, was I wrong?

Quite the contrary.

Are you still the editor of Vogue?

- Of course.

- Good.

Are you still interested in that article

about how a former President

dresses in his free time,

or is it too late?

Late? Of course not.

Good.

I'm ready to answer your questions.

Yes.

Let's begin.

President, do you remember

how you dressed as a boy?

Of course.

I don't like forgetting.

I like remembering.

I won't deny I also wished to be

one of those men who are at ease

wearing a red jacket with white trousers,

but I never had the nerve.

You know, madam,

I have always been

a gray, boring man,

I've always been a man of the law

and I don't mind it at all.

My wife was...

the outgoing one in the couple.

And that made me happy.

She loved... red, yellow, cream.

In summer, light blue.

Yes, light blue.

Light blue in all its nuances.

How wonderful.

In winter, green.

Yes.

As you know,

it's not easy to look good in green.

And yet, Aurora was stunning in green.

Then one day,

just a few days

before she passed away,

she wore a brooch on a blue jacket.

So I said to her,

"No, Aurora, with a brooch on your jacket

you look too ladylike."

And she, surprised,

said, "Why?

"Am I not a lady?"

In that instant,

I came up with a bizarre reply,

I said,

"You're my girl."

It wasn't bizarre,

it was heartrending.

Yes, heartrending is the right term,

in fact Aurora didn't laugh.

What did she do?

First she said, "Stop it!"

But I quietly noticed she was moved.

I realize I'm not telling you

much about myself.

It doesn't matter.

It's wonderful hearing

you talk about your wife.

It interests you?

Very much.

Look, quite simply,

Aurora was the perfect woman.

The perfect woman for me.

Why?

Because she never forgot me.

Take all the time you need, President.

I'll wait for you.

You are truly perceptive.

You know, madam?

Thank you, President.

And that's why I'd like

to give you a scoop.

It would be the high point of my career.

Before leaving the Quirinale,

I wanted to sign one last bill,

the one on the right to euthanasia.

No one knows yet.

This truly is the high point

of my career.

How will the Pope take it?

I don't think he'll take it badly,

the Pope is my friend.

Allow me to think

he won't like it anyway.

Oh well,

it's inevitable,

we have different roles.

The Pope has to answer to God,

I, to my children.

What convinced you?

This really is a surprise.

Everyone thought that as a Catholic,

as a man inclined

to balance and compromise,

you would have

played for time without signing,

leaving the task to your successor.

What convinced you?

My daughter.

She convinced me.

She is a great jurist,

because she was able

to crack my principles.

You are a great jurist too.

Now I'll tell you

something banal, madam.

There's a time when children

should follow their parents,

but there's a subsequent time

when parents should

follow their children.

Besides, my daughter has something extra,

passion,

which, for reasons of age, I have lost.

Have you found your passion again?

It's late for passion,

but...

I've found something that resembles it.

Grace.

Grace is the beauty of doubt.

So you signed it,

you decided, even if in doubt.

Isn't that what we always do?

Every day?

Feign certainties.

Yes, President,

it's what we do every day.

It's called courage.

One day, my daughter Dorotea asked me,

"Who owns our days?"

The answer is so obvious.

They are ours.

But paradoxically,

a lifetime is not enough

to understand it.

Arpa, you're early.

Didn't your day leave end at 10pm?

Hi, Dorotea.

Hi, Riccardo.

Hi, Dad.

What are you doing?

Eating dinner.

What?

Quinoa.

He had a pizza delivered.

You're like your mother.

How?

- You know me.

- Not really.

I'd never have imagined

you'd grant Isa Rocca a pardon.

And the motivation.

"Preventive self-defense."

A truly daring extension

of the principle of self-defense.

Self-defense from a life that was hell.

But she k*lled him in his sleep.

He would have woken up

and continued to t*rture her.

- She could have run away.

- No.

She couldn't.

Why not?

Because she loved him.

It would have meant

running away from her very life.

She had no choice,

that's why we pardoned her.

Why didn't you grant Arpa a pardon?

His account was misleading.

In what way?

He did not love his wife.

How do you know?

I spoke to him.

He was broken.

Broken inside.

Beyond any reasonable doubt.

Dad,

would you like to hear

the latest song I've written?

Alright.

Isa Rocca and her partner, six months

after the pardon was granted, broke up.

Cristiano Arpa,

after he was denied a pardon,

reapplied, this time in his own name.

Ugo Romani did not become

President of the Republic by one vote.

Rumor has it that

it was Mariano De Santis' vote.

Dorotea De Santis

enrolled in a dance class.

Every morning, Mariano De Santis

goes to his office as a senator for life.

In the evening,

he waits at home.

He waits for his friend Coco Valori

to eat a light dinner.

Get off my f*cking back.