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SWEDEN
In the presence of the sovereign
and a host of diplomatic, Scientific and artistic figures,
the 1934 Nobel prizes were solemnly given out.
The Prizes in Chemistry, Physiology and Medicine
were handed to three illustrious American scientists.
The prize for Literature went
to the Italian playwright Luigi Pirandello.
Although poorly executed,
I performed the task with pleasure.
You may now proceed
to receive from His Majesty the King,
the Nobel Prize in Literature
of which the Swedish Academy has deemed you worthy.
I've never felt so alone and sad.
The sweetness of glory is no recompense for the bitterness it cost.
To my brother Vittorio
Is my life already over?
How is it possible?
Like this? Already?
They're my children.
My children.
I find it shocking that children could have been born from me.
But when?
Ah, I must have had them yesterday.
Yesterday I was still young.
Is this a dream?
No, it's really them, my children.
They're coming over!
They're growing up.
They're coming to me
because they know I'm ill, very ill.
But why is gray hair sprouting on my children's heads?
They grow, they grow.
I feel such compassion for my children...
so old.
I'd like to get up, but I can't anymore.
PIRANDELLO IS DEAD
ITALIAN LITERATURE IN MOURNING
He is to be displayed in a black shirt.
A Fascist funeral, a funeral to be remembered.
Pennants, cardinals a band and all the rest of it.
They even gave him a Nobel Prize.
I was forgetting... he won the Nobel Prize.
They gave him the Collar.
Put it on display.
"Let my death pass in silence.
Let me be wrapped in a sheet.
A cart of the lowest class, for a pauper.
Burn me.
And let my body, just burned, be left to scatter,
so nothing, not even ash, would be left of me.
But if this cannot be done,
may the urn be taken to Sicily
and be walled within a rough stone
in the countryside where I was born."
"Moron".
"In accordance with the Royal Decree No. 1265
dated July 27, 1934 concerning the health laws..."
MINISTRY OF THE INTERIOR
"The authorities approved the incineration at the crematorium.
The urn with the playwright's ashes
has been placed in the Verano cemetery in Rome
and will be held there in keeping with the family's wishes."
THE URN STAYED IN THE ROMAN CEMETERY FOR 10 YEARS
TEN YEARS OF WAR, FEAR. BARBARISM, STRUGGLE
Pray louder, pray!
PIETRO CARUSO, ROME POLICE CHIEF ON TRIAL
FOR THE ARDEATINE MASSACRE
"The court proceedings against Caruso Pietro,
find Caruso Pietro and Occhetto Roberto
guilty as charged.
And it sentences Pietro Caruso
to death, to be shot in the back by firing squad.
Caruso gets off the wagon.
PRISONERS OF WAR RETURNED TO RIMINI
SEEKING WIFE, EVEN SECONDHAND
New York
DELEGATE FROM AGRIGENTO TOWN HALL
Worried, huh?
ROME CITY HALL OFFICIAL
- Yeah, I didn't sleep last night. - The chaos of Rome.
No, I'm worried about them.
You two, gently.
Gently.
What do you think we're doing?
I like American cigarettes: Camels.
They worry me, so does Agrigento.
Agrigento?
They're all worried there.
The authorities, the university, the population too.
They're waiting for Pirandello's ashes. For the celebrations.
I understand, I do.
But a little patience.
The trip home isn't easy.
It's cold today in Rome.
And we'll get some coffee, would you say no?
I say yes.
A question.
Are you close to President De Gasperi?
Not exactly close, no.
I know he's giving you a hand for the trip.
Yes, he.promised.
"You mustn't worry," he told me.
"I'll take care of everything. I'll go to American headquarters."
American headquarters?
He'll request a special flight from Rome to Sicily.
- Just for the ashes? - Exactly.
Here's hoping.
You don't trust them, do you?
The Americans are good with promises,
but with us Italians, they act like they're conquerors.
They're not completely wrong.
Mind you,
you're forgetting Mr.Pirandello is a Nobel Prize winner
and the Americans admire and respect success.
I have just arrived in Washington.
De GASPERI PRIME MINISTER
I find myself among friends.
This demonstration of friendship and brotherhood
also inspires the discussions
that will take place between our governments.
Get a load of this idiot!
Slow down.
Slowly! Slowly!
For heaven's sake!
My hat!
Thank you.
Son of a bitch!
Damn you!
Idiot!
Good morning.
But...
Are they Pirandello's ashes?
I'll go ask.
Good morning, may 1?
Are they the maestro Pirandello's ashes in the crate?
Yes.
Excuse me.
Are they the maestro Pirandello's ashes?
It's him.
Yes, they're Pirandello's ashes.
Is there a dead man on the plane?
Wait, we're leaving.
- Right? - Yes, let's go.
- I'm leving. - So are we.
I'm leaving.
No, I'm getting off.
We won't travel with a dead man's ashes!
Us with a dead man...
Propeller - crash.
Airplane not start.
Sorry, the engine of the propeller...
Please, captain. Please.
I understood what that half Sicilian, was gesticulating to your pilot about.
Are you wondering why everyone got off the plane.
I'll tell you why.
Because they don't want to fly,
to travel with a dead man on the plane.
With his ashes.
And you, captain,
have lent your ear to this idiocy, to these ridiculous superstitions.
You shut off the engines.
Shame on you.
I heard that.
I do not believe your medieval superstitions.
But with all due respect,
I am not going to let you call me a liar.
You have to trust in me,
In the sincerity Of a captain in the AIR Force.
The war.
Señorita, jiggy jiggy?
Señorita, jiggy jiggy!
Señorita, jiggy jiggy...
Sorry, he drunk.
Señorita!
I'll tear their heads off!
I'll tear their heads off.
Holy smoke!
The crate!
Sir, excuse me.
Captain, have you seen a crate?
No, I fell asleep.
I don't believe it!
Excuse me, there was a wooden crate...
Have you seen a wooden crate?
Excuse me, there was a wooden crate.
I haven't seen it.
There was a wooden crate...
This big.
Has anyone passed by here?
A wooden crate...
Have you seen a wooden crate? This big.
- Have you seen a crate? - We haven't seen anything.
A crate, made of wood.
How can you miss a wooden crate?
Miss, have you seen a wooden crate?
This big. Wooden, big.
She's German, she can't understand.
Alsatian.
I was a prisoner,
I married her.
I'm taking her home, to the island of Salina.
Good luck.
I don't know.
But it's beautiful, huh?
These are mine.
What's up? We're playing tressette.
A three-hand game with a "dead man."
Do you know it?
Do you want to sit in for the "dead man"?
Thieves!
Let's not snap at each other like mad dogs.
Is it yours? It's his.
It was there all by itself and we took it.
We'll take it back now and put it where it was, all right?
Let's take the crate back where it was.
We didn't know where to play so we took it.
Come on, gently, gently.
Gently, guys.
I couldn't see it anymore...
Now we'll put it here.
Set it down.
- Is it all right here? - Yes.
- Is that all right? - Yes, thanks.
We'll get our cards and go.
Goodbye and sorry.
- No, I'm sorry. - Have a safe trip.
We'll play on top of the suitcases.
Sicily.
They can't ask us to bless a Greek vase.
The funeral will pass through Agrigento.
People raising their hats to a vase?
They can't ask that of us.
You know the students with those caps?
That little smirk every time I object, that little smirk.
Forget it, forget it.
Not all of them, I've seen many
who are serious, truly concerned.
Not because I don't think highly of him.
I am uneasy, believe me, I am uneasy.
At the seminary I read him in secret.
Then I confessed.
I was young once too.
And you? Who among you has read Pirandello's works?
At least one!
You.
I've read him, I read him.
Me too.
Me too, I've just read one novel.
"The Old and the Young."
Very good, a bit long...
But very good.
I like your cheerfulness.
Remember the inscription of "The Old and the Young"?
Children, old...
"To my children, young today...
old tomorrow."
If you order the vase to be placed
in a Christian coffin, you can bless it.
Oh, yes!
It can be done like that.
Good idea, Don Biagio, good idea!
Then the Church can give its blessing.
This is our decision: The vase will be enclosed in a Christian coffin
and I shall bless it.
A regular coffin.
You go, I've already wasted a whole morning.
You are kind, with strong principles.
You can speak to those disrespectful students better than I.
My first principle is obedience.
But it's a child's coffin.
It's all we had left.
Last month everyone had the flu.
Everybody, and the month before too.
A deadly flu.
We barely had enough regular coffins.
A child's coffin...
No! Take it away!
A child's died.
Did you see? A child's died.
Dad, has a child died?
No, a child hasn't died.
But the coffin's small, who's inside?
It's not a child.
It's a dwarf.
No laughing, quiet!
- What is it? - There's a dwarf in there.
What's going on?
They said there's a dwarf in there.
The kids said there's a dwarf in there.
He's coming.
YOUR ACTORS
"May the urn be taken to Sicily
and be walled within a rough stone
in the countryside where I was born."
THE SCULPTOR
THE MONUMENT WAS ONLY READY FOR THE ASHES 15 YEARS LATER
BEFORE HIS DEATH PIRANDELLO WROTE
A TALE BASED ON ANEWS STORY IN BROOKLYN
GIRL KILLED BY ITALIAN BOY
THE NAIL
Give them to Antonio.
Those leaving, come to be counted.
There should be ten of you.
Tie a handkerchief to the top of the reed.
So we can greet them even from a distance.
Three, four, five, six...
Wait.
He's number six, he's coming with us.
He's wearing his clothes, here's the money.
Not him!
SIX YEARS LATER
And two coffees.
As a first day it went so-so.
But it went.
At last we can eat too!
Help us put the tables together.
Bastianeddu, come on.
You're not eating with us?
Why not?
But he was good.
You're all red,
go get some fresh air.
Hey, boy.
What did you mean when you said that the nail fell -- on purpose?
And that the girls were beating up on each other on purpose?
I'm trying to help you.
Don't be scared.
I just want to know what you mean when you say "on purpose."
Tell me and I'll leave you alone.
Want me to go?
I'll think of you all my life.
I'll visit you when I get out of prison.
I'll come visit you every year.
Time must pass
and carry us away with all the scenarios of our life.
Mine, I've already rolled it up and tucked it under my arm.
translation: Susan adler