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THE RETURN OF DON CAMILLO
This is Don Camillo, you know him,
he's the parson of the village down in the valley,
somewhere in the North of Italy,
where the things that happen don't happen elsewhere.
Don Camillo is in exile and is leaving.
He came to blows to defend his ideas against Peppone's,
the communist mayor, an antagonist and friend.
Coming to blows is not suitable for a priest
and the Bishop has punished Don Camillo
sending him away from his beloved little world.
- Well done Alberto! - Up with Alberto!
- Good morning, Reverend. - Good morning.
Where is the parsonage?
- Are you the new parish priest? - Yes.
- Don Camillo, right? - Correct!
I've heard about you.
Don Luciano, the old parish priest, was a good man. Meek as a lamb.
Pity he leR us. But one can't last forever.
- 86 years old. - May God receive his soul!
Amen.
Is the parsonage far?
- About ten kilometres. - Ten kilometres?
- And is there a bus? - No, one can't get there by bus.
But I can bring you closer, there's my old... horse.
I can't get any closer.
- What do you do? - I'm a railroad worker.
You should be an airman.
Where's the village?
See that cloud up there? It's behind there.
- Well, goodbye Reverend. - Thank you.
Take that path, then turn leR, then straight!
Thanks.
Is anyone there?
He's a hurricane, they warned me, a hurricane!
- Nothing can stop him! - Excuse me...
Don Luciano sat in this chair for 30 years!
The first time you touch it, you break it!
- Who are you? - A neighbour.
I used to cook for him, I can do the same for you.
I'm not afraid, they all tremble, but I'm not afraid.
My father was a wolf hunter.
Don't touch me!
Good Lord, this is a mad house!
Don't play innocent.
We know how you treat sinners, throwing chairs and tables.
Who told you that nonsense?
Everyone knows, but there's only old people here.
- This is no place to be wild. - Wild?
Aren't you overdoing it?
- Only one room here? - That way everything's handy.
What's that door?
Lord! Your lodgings are worse than mine!
Don Camillo used to speak to Jesus,
who oRen would reply.
I don't mean to complain, Lord, but do we deserve this?
This time, Jesus appeared did not listen.
They say I misbehaved. But parson of a village of madmen?
That punishment is enough,
but don't leave me in this wormy place!
Jesus didn't answer.
My Lord,
you promised me You'd always be with me.
If You don't keep your promises, who can one trust?
In the valley, life was back to normal.
No Don Camillo, hence no more fights.
The village was nice and quiet.
Silence!
We've swallowed worse than you, Cagnola!
We crush wild beasts like Don Camillo.
Now the village is rid of that reactionary,
no enemies of the people will hinder social progress.
Ruining vineyards? Is that progress?
100 vines less, but there are 10 OOO more!
Our village is threatened by floods,
the new dyke will mean less vines,
but it will reinforce the old dykes and protect the land
that is swamped each year.
These lands will become fertile!
So you can give them to your electors?
You confuse progress with personal interest.
Mr. Cagnola, for once, the opposition...
shares the mayor's views.
I say that if Don Camillo were here...
Leave Don Camillo where he is! Fresh air will do him good.
I warn you, Cagnola.
If you don't give up your land, we'll take it.
You touch a pebble on my land and I shoot.
Listen, Mr. Cagnola!
I'm building, don't get in my way.
Hands off!
Not even with the Red Army will you get it!
Nothing serious, I hope.
Violence is a poor advisor. It's better to explain.
That's what we were doing.
Well, Mr. Mayor, since the Council had gathered,
I came here to raise the issue...
of the bell-tower repairs.
You promised my predecessor you would do them,
but time has passed.
The crack is bigger
and the big bell, Gertrude, could fall.
Reverend, you know nothing about this.
Pardon me, I do know what a crack is.
This isn't a normal crack,
it's bemeen Don Camillo and me.
Yes, I know, don't insist,
Don Camillo isn't here, the crack can wait.
But as you are here,
what's that statue in church in Saint Lucio's place?
Saint Rita of Cascia?
Saint Lucio is the saint of dairymen.
You have disturbed the economic order.
Get rid of the stranger fast.
I don't take orders from you on how to decorate the church,
I report to the Bishop and will duly inform him.
Here Don Camillo decides, not the Bishop!
Or rather... he used to decide.
A skinny little priest isn't going to change
what the parson decided according to the people's will.
Mr. Spiletti, come!
Is he worse?
- Excuse me. - Is it your father?
Poor doctor Spiletti, I'm so sorry.
That old reactionary carcass!
He delivered half the villagers and saved the other half.
- He is highly respected here. - True.
Comrades, there are times when, without forgetting our battles,
we must bow to a meritorious adversary,
especially if he dies.
I propose a public collection to offer doctor Spiletti
a gravestone in sign of our affection.
Yes, quite right.
Session adiourned. I'll pay him a last visit.
He's dead.
May the Lord forgive him for refusing confession.
Hiss your grandfather the last time.
He was an old adversary,
but we know how to recognise value:
We will declare a day of mourning.
You'd like that, you red scoundrel!
- But Doctor! - He's clinically dead!
He's breathing, this is truly mysterious!
You'd like to bury me, but you'll have to wait.
I shall die
when Don Camillo gives me the last sacrament.
Then we shall have the pleasure
of your company until Judgement Day.
No one in the village died, no babies were born,
no one got married without Don Camillo,
who, in his village behind the clouds,
was working on his new parishioners.
Instead of attracting believers, I scare them.
This isn't the place for me.
I feel like a ship stuck in a pond.
As soon as I move, the frogs rebel.
This can't go on.
Bloody rain! We can't start building,
- it will all be washed away. - We must start.
When you're ready I'll join you. Come on.
Hadn't you sent Don Camillo away, things would be different.
He'd have forced Cagnola to give in.
The Bishop sent him away, not me,
and an_ay Don Camillo isn't a magician.
That's what everyone thinks.
Plain gossip, I'm fed up! Don Camillo is fine where he is.
Well, not really.
Excuse me. I did knock,
but you were shouting and couldn't hear.
Come in, Reverend.
I didn't recognise you.
It's so long I thought of you I forgot what you look like.
- You're all wet. - Never mind.
I bumped into your shock-troops, by mistake.
What's this? The grand evening?
Never mind, it's about municipal works.
- You're still mayor? - They're not weathercocks.
Everyone's very sensible since you leR.
Besides, the new parson is very nice.
He doesn't mix up in politics. An ideal parson.
He wouldn't harm a mouse.
- Spaghetti, Reverend? - Thank you.
How's it going up there?
Splendidly.
My new parishioners are kind and loving,
and the weather, such fresh air!
Here it's raining, but up there...
When I set out this morning it was... it wasn't raining.
So much the better, everyone's happy.
Everyone's happy.
How's Lenin?
Lenin?
Lenin Camillo Liberio, your youngest.
He's fine. There, he's waking up.
Isn't he lovely?
Good thing he's called Camillo, that'll spare him from red rashes.
And this one? Isn't he in boarding school?
You still like me, don't you?
He ran away from boarding school again.
I have to take him back. If he doesn't behave he'll stays there.
- I don't want to go there. - Then go to Don Camillo.
I don't want to.
Go to bed then!
You're a disgrace!
- Little rascal. - Just like his father.
Ok, I'll go with you!
What an angel.
I'd love you to come but it's far too cold.
How sad.
Are you still in Sunday school?
- No. - You don't go to Sunday school?
Whatever next!
It's not just me, nobody goes anymore.
We're waiting...
Shut up, go to bed.
So, now you stop children from going to church.
Nonsense, everyone is free to do as they please.
Unless the commies forbid it. I know your machine-gun methods.
Never mind, you don't belong here!
You're a stranger, go back into your clouds.
Right.
I need the remover also known as Peppone.
- That's why I'm here. - When?
- Now. - What for?
To carry something to Montenara, up to the junction.
- Ok. - What'll you charge me?
I'll only charge you the petrol.
Rental is free. My pleasure to take you back where you belong.
I'll be waiting at 10 sharp at the corner of Boschetto road.
What's that?
A mortar from 1881?
Much stronger, the kind that'll pulverise you.
Lord, You are ever_here, on earth as in heaven.
I don't adore fetishes,
but without You, I feel lost, do you understand?
Cagnola heard a bulldozer.
He's got men and guns. If we start he'll shoot.
Bastard. Wait, I'll go.
What is it?
If blood must flow, it'll be the mayor's.
- I'll break your bones! - I'll break yours, damn you!
What clock struck 10hOO? We don't have a clock.
Yes we do. In the People's Hall.
A progressive clock! Well, it's slow!
What's wrong?
- Have you lost your tongue? - Do you want me to drive or talk?
- A car is following us. - Why?
No, it turned. Why are we being followed?
Can I ask you a question about conscience?
Do you know what a conscience is?
Imagine someone you know very well,
you know he is an honest man,
you have even at times felt esteem for him.
Yes, well?
So, this man tells you...
"In a moment of anger,
I killed a bastard, help me." What would you do?
When did you do that? Who did you kill?
Me? Why, nobody. It's just an example.
An example, no matter then.
Wake me when we get to the junction.
That sounds like thunder!
The weather is so nice at the bottom of the mountains.
Thanks an_ay.
Remember to me the bill?
- Need any help? - No, thank you.
It's all right, you can go now. Take care.
You're hauling it up there? You're mad!
You can go now.
Hold your tongue, rascal.
Pull yourself up, Don Camillo, you will catch cold.
My Lord, is that You!
That's Your voice, You are speaking to me.
I always did but you couldn't hear me.
Your ears were too full of pride and violence,
but I believe they are open now.
God, You've never been so heavy before.
You have never deserved to perspire this much.
You know, this village isn't as gloomy as I thought
and the villagers aren't that unpleasant.
Is that so?
It looked like a bunch of old frogs.
Good Lord, no!
They're old, they're little, they're fragile.
And I stuck out like a sore thumb.
Just like Don Luciano's chair that I shattered,
I'm simply the biggest fool on earth.
To put it mildly, Don Camillo.
I'm sure it will be lovely to live here, Lord.
Lovely, Don Camillo,
but remember the chair, keep your calm.
I shall do my best.
- You again? - I've done something very foolish.
If you need me each time that happens, buy a phone.
Come right in.
Do sit down.
No, not there,
take this chair instead.
Who've you killed then?
It's that swine Cagnola.
He killed Nero, so I killed him.
I had to, he didn't want the new dyke on his land.
It's never right to kill.
- But I did not kill! - No?
You're as pure as a child, are you?
Why did you return?
I saw a truck full of policemen.
It wouldn't look very good if I was seen.
- You would be pleased. - Me?
You, the reactionaries, the landlords and all.
So, let's say I've been here since 9 o'clock.
9 o'clock?
Yes, if I was here at 9hOO I couldn't kill Cagnola at 10hOO.
No alibis, I can't help a murderer.
What shall I do?
Wait here for the police. I do need a sacristan.
That could be them.
Hide there.
Cagnola?
- I've done something very foolish. - What?
Sit down.
No, not here. There.
- What's happened? - I think I killed Nero.
What an evening! And how did it happen?
The commies want a new dyke with the excuse of floods.
A flood will surely swallow up their dyke. But my vines?
Nero will be a martyr of the revolution.
Here's my plan. I've been here since 9hOO.
9 o'clock?
If I was here at 9hOO, I couldn't kill Nero at 10hOO.
You have the same ideas, you and Peppone!
Made for one another!
Come in, friend.
- Murderer! - Commie!
You bunch of rogues! Will you stop it? Stop!
What are you doing? Stop!
This time it's not my fault!
Avert Your eyes, Lord, from these rogues.
- I heard something, Don Camillo. - A storm, Lord.
The lightning must have hurt them.
It takes more than that, You know.
Give me a glass of wine. That will help.
There's no wine here.
Only water.
There are no vineyards here, too cold.
No river, only torrents.
No soil, only rubble and clouds.
You have the most beautiful river and fight!
You deserve the seven plagues of Egypt.
You will let this dyke be built.
Thank God you have enough to make the Province drunk
or you'll roast in hell.
And what about Nero? He split his head open.
His head's too hard.
There are no holes, it's but a bone.
Well?
Let them build a dyke,
but if they take an inch of my land I'll kill them.
Good night.
Thank you.
Listen,
I did mean to tell you,
that little Don Pietro isn't quite as I said.
- Everyone... - Be quiet, I don't want to know.
I'm here and I have to stay here,
I don't care what goes on there.
You go back to your marshlands and leave me in peace.
Go on, off you go, leave.
It will say "For doctor Spiletti, in gratitude".
There's no time for more. He's dying.
We should write "Except from the communists".
We can't be grateful to a reactionary.
Politically he was a rat,
but he cured you from typhoid fever.
- Yes. - Then you should be grateful.
Right, boss.
- Done. - Have you seen Cagnola?
- When can we start? - He said never and kicked me.
What? The bastard!
- I'll beat him up! - Wait.
Ask the notary to show me the law, we must be able to force him.
Don Camillo's the only one.
Can't we live without that man?
Right, I'm off.
- By the way, the old man leR us. - Who, Spiletti?
- Gone! - What time did he die?
I didn't say he died. I said he leR.
- Where for? - Montenara.
He wants Don Camillo to bury him.
Don Pietro will have his nose put out ofjoint.
The fool!
What about the monument and the collection?
It'll be our fault for we sent Don Camillo away.
- We have to return the money! - And we'll lose the elections.
We knew it was crazy and he wouldn't get there alive.
Well, he's where he wants to be.
I'm so happy to see you.
Doctor Spiletti?
I was sparing myself.
You can go back down, I don't need anyone.
Only Don Camillo can help me.
Poppycock! You'll die without forgiveness of sins.
- I'll die? - You might, and then?
The little priest could have confessed me,
but I wanted you to take me to the cemetery.
Because when you pass away with Don Camillo,
you take no risks.
I feel much better already.
The air is good up here.
Would it bother you if I don't die right away?
Take your time!
In the village, registers were blank.
Fuming Peppone vowed to all
that Don Camillo would never set foot there.
So you miss Don Camillo then?
Miss that tyrant? Me, never, Your Grace.
But since he leR he has become a Saint Camillo.
Please send him back to us
so they see he's just an ordinary priest.
I regret to inform you, Mr. Mayor,
but we have decided to make the change of parish permanent.
Don Camillo was a constant danger for you.
I have to protect you.
You know they say he does miracles up there in the mountains?
- Miracles, Mr. Bottazzi? - Oh yes.
He resuscitated old doctor Spiletti.
They bring him the crippled and dying on mule-back.
I wonder if it's considered good for the Church.
We highly appreciate your concerns, Mr. Bottazzi
but you need not worry.
Don Camillo is not a danger for the Church.
Listen, Your Grace.
- Let's be frank. - I never lie, Mr. Mayor.
Nor do I, and here is the truth,
- the village needs Don Camillo. - The village?
- I mean I do. - Well, well.
We can get over Spiletti, be he dead or alive.
- But this bastard of a landlord... - Mr. Bottazzi!
I beg your pardon, Your Grace,
but he's against us building a dyke and the village needs it!
The rat! May his soul burn in hell!
Only Don Camillo can convince him.
Return Don Camillo to us, Your Grace, please.
I wanted to hear those words from you.
I'll let you have him back,
but don't complain if he throws tables at you.
If he does, we'll throw them back.
I say!
Reverend, is that you?
Weren't you taking the night train?
- Who told you? - The mayor.
He said the first, to be in time for the reception.
No, he said you were due on the last train.
Wait, I'll get you an umbrella.
Don Camillo's return was not meant to be victorious.
So Peppone had taken every precaution.
- Here. - Thank you, Station Master.
Goodbye Reverend Father.
To make sure nobody came to the station,
not even by mistake,
Peppone organised a boxing match.
The provincial champion, Gorlini,
defended his title against Bagotti, the village champion.
They would all be rooting for their champion.
You'll see, you'll see.
- Is coming down hard? - Cats and dogs.
It has to last until the last train.
DON'T MISS THE GREAT BOXING MATCH!
CHAMPIONS BAGOTTl AND GORLINl.
SUPPORT YOUR VILLAGE.
Great match for the title of provincial champion
bemeen the reigning champion,
comrade Alfio Gorlini...
and the contender, comrade Bagotti.
We shall see our village's name shine
in the firmament of this noble sport!
Naturally, may the best man win.
If you don't win, I'll crown you.
Is that clear?
Great to have you back.
I must say I never understood your parishioners.
- Very difficult. - Really? They were lambs.
In any case, the mayor is not a lamb.
I wanted to tell you that I did my best
to make him stick to his promises for the bell-tower.
In the end I sent him a registered letter
asking him to come personally to verify the damage.
Did he answer?
Here is the letter.
"Receiving hours five to seven. To show him the crack
kindly bring the bell-tower to the Town Hall."
- It will be duly seen to. - This is serious.
Look, rain and ice have widened the crack, look.
It is a miracle Gertrude still stands...
Careful! Careful!
Excuse me, I've a boxing match to watch.
You fool!
Under the belt, disqualified!
I saw that, under the belt!
Under the belt, yes...
Hold this.
Lord, it's too much, help him.
Do you really think I can catch him?
But Lord, he's the mayor!
That brute can't treat the mayor like that!
He asked for it. He organised it all.
You are clearly not from these parts!
Up with Don Camillo! Hooray!
- Well done! - Thanks.
Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you, thank you all.
I'm very happy to be back amongst you,
as you see, I was in such a hurry I couldn't wait,
so I took the first train.
- Just in time! - Bravo!
Just in time to witness scenes of violence
that with God's help I put an end to.
Shame on you, enjoying those abominable fights.
Are bloodthirsty ghouls?
While you amused yourselves, your indifference,
and your negligent authorities,
caused the bell to fall on your parson.
I expect to see you all at Sunday mass.
I hope everyone will be there,
even those responsible for the ruin of the Lord's house.
Nobody dared ignore Don Camillo's imperative invitation,
only a few chairs in the front were empty,
Peppone and his shock-troops.
Blessed be Lord Jesus Christ.
My brothers and sisters...
Dear ones,
I am happy to see so many of you gathered today before God
even those who caught the red fever.
Unfortunately, my ioy is blemished by a painful event.
As you all know, except those who should,
our bell-tower has a dangerous crack and any minute
it will fall upon us.
Gertrude, our valiant bell
that has tolled for centuries in our skies,
victim of those who make promises they don't keep,
fell off her tower.
It is to you I turn, dear believers,
to help fix the House of God, that is also yours.
When I say believer, I mean those
who come here to feel close to God
and not those who come to show off their military style.
ARer mass, on this glorious day God has given us,
I will receive your contributions at the alter
so those who don't give can do so in broad daylight.
Give, even if you can't.
- Is it enough? - For me yes,
but for your conscience, I don't know.
Attention!
March!
We, more than anyone, want to see the bell back in its place.
Yesterday it saluted the dawn of the Liberation,
tomorrow it will salute the radiant dawn
of the Working Class Revolution.
Thank you, Mr. Mayor,
but you'd better brush up your straight right and running step.
Forward, straight, right, right!
Forward, march!
So, Reverend,
- how are the repairs getting on? - Almost finished, Mr. Mayor.
What brings you here?
Blasted Cagnola refuses to keep the promise he made at Montenara.
He says he was hit by a spanner and a club.
He must be raving.
Bemeen us, do you believe in this dyke?
Of course you agree with that jackal!
4 o'clock. That's my clock.
A clock?
You're the first to hear it.
Thanks to you and your comrades.
We had some money leR over. Do thank the Party.
You raved on about your bell-tower
and you go and buy a clock instead?
But the bell-tower is fine. I fixed it.
Gertrude is back in place.
Swindler!
The village couldn't go by Moscow time!
Hear that? It's slow.
I'll denounce you, I'll put up a sign this big.
What about the dyke?
What were you saying about Cagnola?
If he goes on, I can't dry the lands.
If he accepts, you win voters.
It's not that, it's the poor devils
who can't even plant an onion for their soup.
Then, I agree.
I shall speak to Cagnola.
Half the land is for your poor and the other half
is for mine.
Agreed,
if you convince that scoundrel,
that swine, that...
Send in the bulldozers.
Are you sure?
As if you had already thanked me.
Thank you.
Smilzo! Put the clock forward 2 minutes.
Right away, boss.
Not an inch will I give up, nothing!
- Your last word? - We will read the law again.
Cagnola, who headed all religious processions,
refused to obey his parish priest.
Peppone found it difficult to believe.
Villagers had been mobilised,
soon they were building the dyke.
Don't worry. Monday it'll all be over.
- I'm starting the dyke. - Did Cagnola gave in?
You surprise me!
Your parson may do miracles, but if Peppone decides...
Why did you want a window this side?
The sun sets this side.
With this window, I will save
one hour of daylight per day
and in 11 years it will make a difference.
11 years...
Bloody hell!
Stop swearing like that, you'll lose your soul.
My soul? Do you think I'm an idiot?
- No soul? - I believe what I see.
- Nobody's ever seen a soul. - Then what's inside us?
You're the doctor, not me.
There are guts inside.
When they function, you're alive,
if not, you're dead.
What makes them function?
Life! What else!
If you're sure you don't have a soul, sell it to me!
- What? - Sell it to me. I'll buy it.
I can't sell you what I don't have.
Not to worry, sell me your soul.
If you don't have one, I've lost my money,
and if you do, then it's mine.
- How much do you offer me? - 500 lire.
That's not enough. I want at least 1000.
Your dirty red soul isn't worth more.
It's even too much.
- 1000 or nothing. - 1000 lire, it's a deal.
I'll write the contract and get witnesses.
Wait a minute!
You'll give it to the papers against the Party!
Commies sell souls for 1000 lire!
You have my word that this is bemeen you and me.
No one will ever know.
- I can add it to the contract. - No, I believe you.
All right, it says:
"I, the undersigned, Francesco Gallini known as Nero,"
hereby sell my soul to doctor Spiletti
for 1000 lire that I declare to have received
granting him immediate ownership
"so that he may dispose of it as he pleases."
Sign here.
1000 lire for nothing.
- You've gone soR in the head. - Don't worry.
I have never done a bad deal in my life.
Happy Carnival!
- I spoke to Cagnola. - Thank you.
Well, Cagnola...
- What's the news? - He refuses. Nothing doing.
- What? - He refuses to co-operate.
Come in.
Leave me alone, I'm dying.
My wife forced me to come.
It's tea, drink it.
- Is it poison? - No, it's herbal tea.
You're not in co-hoots with Cagnola.
You know me,
I get carried away if I'm angry.
Anger? What's anger?
Sweeten it with this. It's honey from my bee-hive.
What do you feed your bees in the winter?
Harl Marx's books?
This winter I don't have to,
I read them your last sermon
and they're still asleep.
You want me to do something; But what?
Cagnola's got a lawyer, like talking to a wall.
Not Cagnola again.
ARer Carnival, we'll strike on his land.
He can get his lawyers to toil it!
I talk to you as a father, not as a mayor.
What? Yes!
Have you hatched another little Lenin?
No, it's my eldest, Peppo.
The headmaster says he misbehaves.
I have to go, but I'll wring his neck.
That's no use.
I would like you to go.
But he doesn't want to see me. He's as bad as his dad.
He fears you and you don't have to beat him, I do.
I'm afraid a few clouts might slip out.
A few smacks are all right, but not too hard,
he's a Bottazzi but he isn't as big as his father.
He wants to run the world but can't govern his kids.
Right, I'll go next Sunday.
I'll leave you then.
Haven't you stopped perspiring?
It's all the nastiness inside.
Good night.
Is that old piece metal fast?
You don't think we'll lag behind you?
The bell goes by the sun. No politics.
It's the people's clock. If you're slow, too bad for the sun!
You see, Lord! The earth isn't enough.
They will redo the universe!
Bless you. You see, you didn't come for nothing.
Good morning.
Come!
Are you cold? Tighten your scarf.
This is like London. Do you know London?
No geography either?
And your poor father who breaks his back
to pay the boarding school fees?
Come.
Sit down here. I have to talk to you.
- Well... - Can I run a bit?
Don't you run at playtime?
Too many walls.
Run then come back, I have to talk.
Come here.
What're you doing? What's that?
- It's a rain worm. - Is it?
Look at the little one next to it!
Leave the worms alone and sit down.
- When a father makes sacrifices... - Look, a nest!
A cuckoo nest.
Looks more like blackbirds.
No, they're cuckoos.
No, they are surely blackbirds.
You're as pigheaded as your father.
You always have to be right.
Show me the feather.
They're blackbirds, you see? You were wrong.
Let's slide!
Wait, my turn! Watch this!
Bravo!
1, 2, 3.
My turn now.
1, 2, 3, 4.
Very good!
Wait... here's a nice flat one.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6!
Well done, you're an ace!
- Are you thirsty? - Yes, and hungry too.
Hungry? Come.
And I want sheep, pigs and pigeons,
lots of pigeons, I love birds.
- Listen to me. - Chestnuts!
Chestnuts!
- Do you want some? - Yes, please.
- Nice chestnuts for the little one? - Yes.
50 lire.
Thank you.
They come from our parts, I can taste them.
5 o'clock already, we have to go.
- Take your chestnuts. - No.
Why?
Because they search us and take them away.
Good night.
And try to...
I mean, try to study a bit.
I promise.
That's the hall window there, I'll say goodbye to you.
- Here. - Thanks.
Goodbye.
He ran away again, the headmaster phoned me.
- I'll kill him! - Better not find him then.
And you had just spoken to him!
Boarding schools are prisons and he hates it.
Strange however,
he got away by bending the window bars.
He's a strong little boy, I mean, intelligent too.
He could be dead by now.
- They said you didn't want him. - Me?
- That you'd send him away. - Me?
There was something strange.
If I find him, he can do what he wants.
Look who you're saying this to and remember. Come.
- He's asleep! - What happened?
He doesn't want to study, he wants to be a farmer like you.
And you approve!
A working class child leR in ignorance and slavery is ok!
The Party should make its use city children who breathe cement!
This one wants air! He'll die there.
Want a chestnut?
Remember your promise.
Here.
Better make a happy farmer
than a bad teacher by force.
- Cheers! - Cheers.
Peppone's son went back to school
and agreed to get his primary certificate.
Good morning children.
Good morning Miss.
Thank you. Sit down.
Today, I will talk about charity.
Love your neighbour like yourself.
Excuse me, Reverend,
I wanted to do my monthly inspection
before your class began.
You are early. It is five minutes to three.
No Mr. Mayor, it's three o'clock sharp.
Wouldn't it would be better
if both clocks told the same time?
Students are either late or early.
The official time is given by the municipality you work for,
and goes by the People's Hall.
Mr. Mayor is too scrupulous to give this important issue
a superficial reply.
Would Mr. Mayor like to quiz the children?
Right.
Sit down.
How much is 9 times 9?
- Don't you know? - Of course you know.
Tell Mr. Mayor.
You don't want to?
- Why not? - Because he hit my father.
- What? - You hit him with a spanner.
I was in the car with my father.
- Who is he? - Mario Cagnola.
- His son? - When I'm big I'll kill you.
I'll kill you first!
Will you calm down? Stay seated!
Scoundrels! That's what you are!
You fight with Cagnola and you're back in boarding school.
You did fight with his dad.
- Leave him. - He deserves it.
And don't you mix up.
Always with your fist in the air!
If he fights who's fault is it?
If I fight it is so he never has to.
If he does it again, I'll kill him.
So, are you pleased with yourself?
You were so proud when you boxed.
Are you proud today?
They inherited their fathers' temper.
Violence breeds violence
and you oRen give a poor example.
You should be sent to the desert, not the mountains.
You entrusted them to me, Lord,
but I have to correct them a bit.
I know, Camillo, your heart is full of love.
But why are you so clumsy?
Why did you give me such big hands, Lord?
I can't see anything more than in any normal man.
Well no, you see,
I would like you to look carefully inside to see
if there anything missing or removed.
Have you ever had surgery?
- No, never. - Well, what do you mean?
My head, you didn't examine it,
what do you hear?
You don't examine a brain with a stethoscope.
Stop worrying, your skull is well sealed.
Nothing can fall out without your noticing.
Now you're a good modern doctor, a scholar.
- Me, a scholar! - Not like old doctor Spiletti.
He's from the Middle Ages, and age doesn't help things.
- He's soR in the head. - I don't think so.
In our profession, experience counts more.
I've great respect for Spiletti, he knows many things I ignore.
Carnival was approaching. Peppone summoned his shock-brigade.
"Comrade Bottazzi we invite you to Mosc'ow."
You will see all the advantages of Russian citizens
and you will serve peace. Your spirit of discipline,
your inflexible faith, your giR for self-criticism
are equal only to your professional skills.
Prepare your trip. Instructions for departure are forthcoming.
"Let this be your and your Party's secret until the great day."
- What an honour! - It's worth more than any diploma.
You think you have been forgotten...
Who's this Franchini?
Who cares, it's from the Federation, isn't it?
This is a real honour.
Now they will stop saying I'm too soR on priests.
It's not safe to leave when the reactionaries
- raise their heads. - If they have a head to rear,
- we should have cut it off. - What?
I mean one shouldn't make concessions
and a boss should have an iron hand.
So what should we do?
I'm not the boss,
but wait till that priest enters my shop for a shave.
I'll cut his throat!
The morning of Carnival...
Good morning everyone!
Good morning Mr. Mayor. How is Lenin?
- Lenin? - Lenin Liberio Camillo.
- Well, thank you. - What are you here for?
I hear you were dying for me to be a client.
Excuse me.
Who's turn is it?
No one, then it's my turn.
A shave.
Leaving, Mr. Mayor?
What do you mean?
Going to the working class's paradise?
- Who told you? - Public opinion. Is it incorrect?
The village will be deprived of its dear mayor, what a pity.
But we congratulate you heartily.
Thank you, goodbye.
Russia is far away. Can't say it's next door.
Listen, boss...
- What do you mean? - I mean Russia is far away.
No one exploits or is exploited.
Workers are proud to travel miles
to reach a country that gives freedom.
When do you leave?
It's nothing to do with him, it's me.
Do you have anything against Russia?
What an idea!
- It's like asking the Vatican. - Shut up.
If you were me, would you leave?
- I'm not you. - You're not a man.
With anyone else one can talk. With you it's impossible!
I'm all ears.
What do you think of Russia?
I told you many times.
Be frank, for once.
How do I know? Not everyone can go to Russia.
All I know is what I've read about.
You should know more than me.
Of course I do.
Then why ask me?
Come on out with all your lies
and I'll stuff them back down your throat!
You said Russia is neither better nor worse than here!
No I didn't! But if you say so, then I agree.
Why do the papers say bad things?
That's politics, right?
Politics...
Listen, forget it's about me.
If someone had the chance to go to Russia for a good job,
and asked your advice, what would you say?
If it's for work I would say go.
What a delicate hand.
He's upset, Lord.
He thought if I talked to him about Russia, he'd give up.
I don't want to be in his shoes.
Nor me in yours, they are of a wicked man.
What do you mean?
Where did you find that headed paper?
We have the same printer.
One day, when his back was turned...
- It was just a ioke! - A joke you will remedy.
- It's too late. - Don't you have any more paper?
No, that's just it...
Maybe I have one more sheet.
- You know what to do. - Yes, my Lord.
Marchetti the fascist!
He once had made Don Camillo and him drink
castor oil to clear their ideas, he had said.
Since then, he had leR the village.
Excuse me, Reverend, Peppone is aRer me.
Hide me.
Well, a ghost! You've turned into a red Indian!
I missed the village so I came in disguise.
It was a good idea, but Peppone saw me.
This house is inviolable.
You're safe here.
Thank you.
It's starting to pour again.
It would be safer if there had not been
that episode with the castor oil.
You still remember aRer so long!
Childhood memories, we were young and foolish.
All three of us!
Sorry, I came in through your bedroom window.
I've mo things to settle,
one with you and the other with him.
The doctor asked me to make you drink the oil,
for your upset stomach, it will do you good.
And hurry, this rod might slip out of my hand.
Drink it, drink it!
- Drop that rod. - Careful, it's loaded.
Drop the rod or I fire. I always keep my word.
And now, drink.
I'll count to three.
1, 2...
Go back to your commies!
I may die but I'm not going to hell alone.
It's excellent castor oil. You'll love it.
Don't be stupid or I'll fire.
Red Indian won't kill pale face with this rifle.
It isn't loaded.
- Drink! Drink! - No!
At three you'll turn into a red Indian pâté!
Maybe it's a bit rancid, it's been waiting here for you.
If Peppone's men catch you,
turn yourself into a hare.
So now you have added lies to violence?
If I had said it wasn't loaded, Peppone would have beat him up.
But when he forced Peppone to drink the oil?
- Peppone wouldn't have drunk it. - Shame on you. Pure revenge?
I beg your pardon, Lord. There's a difference,
it's not revenge, it's justice.
I know, Camillo, you have a strong sense ofjustice.
Am I right?
What do you mean, Lord?
Justice demands that violence and lies be punished.
Is that clear, Don Camillo?
ARer all, Lord,
it will remind me of my youth.
Breath of youth.
The heavens had opened.
The parade was cancelled.
Day in day out, the rain fell.
In this gloomy atmosphere,
children quarrelling turned into a tragedy.
They threw stones at each other.
Children were fiercer than their fathers.
Suddenly, blood was shed.
It's a head iniury. Bring him to my surgery.
- Who did it? - The whole gang.
- Who? - Mario Cagnola.
They kicked and fought outside school.
Lord, fathers and children hate each other
who can stop this?
Not even you on the cross can do anything.
The world has not ended, it has just begun.
We measure time in thousands of centuries.
Don't lose faith, don't despair of mankind.
There is time, Don Camillo, there is time.
He's dying.
Burn these now.
No, not in front of Him, he's on your side.
For that Lady who's not into politics.
There's only a slim chance he'll make it.
The doctor says we'll know tomorrow.
I'm sorry he swore but I couldn't say a thing.
A man whose child is dying...
You did well.
Even though he called my mother "that Lady".
You are mistaken, Lord.
He said the Holy Virgin on the alter.
I see,
but he referred to me as "him".
He just did that to bother me, Lord.
Excuse me, I think he's waiting for me.
Why make debts for smoke, Reverend.
If you want to eat, take my whole shop,
- but candles! - I don't want your food!
I want a candle like this. I'll pay you next week.
Here, take these. They'll be just as good.
Lord, Peppone brought you these.
A bit small but they're out of money.
He may have bought them on credit.
Look, Lord, they shine more than the others.
Very nice, Don Camillo.
Please excuse me, Lord.
Peppone's son recovered and it started to pour again.
The river broke all the dykes, like Cagnola said,
and as Peppone said,
drowned Cagnola's vines and the entire village.
Yes, Mr. Prefect.
Of course, Mr. Prefect.
Yes, we are evacuating the big dyke.
It is intact up until Malacorte.
Your trucks are on their way?
- He only was able to send three. - Three?
What am I to do with three trucks?
Of course. Yes, I beg your pardon.
And an ambulance? Well, right, an ambulance.
Yes, Mr. Prefect.
We've been on the dyke for hours! Where are the trucks?
The water's rising!
Where are the trucks? They should be here.
- What time is it? - 12h35.
It's slow. It's 12h45.
It's exactly 13hOO.
It's 13hOO. No, it's ten to one.
In the city, it's quarter to melve.
Whatever. They should hurry up.
Count on me, Mr. Prefect.
Reverend, use your moral authority
to convince the last ones.
As many as we can by sundown.
We evacuated the café, your People's Hall is flooded.
I'll give you a hand.
Say, Mr. Mayor,
did you remember all your arms and munitions,
otherwise how will go do your revolution?
I'll use yours, they are somewhere dry in the bell-tower.
Me, I only brought food supplies.
You've decided to stay?
Leaving mice has been quite enough.
I should have known, you want to be the Hero!
Using misfortune for your propaganda!
I forgive you, as I know you see in the stars and the sky
nothing more than political combinations.
Excuse me, I am needed.
Go to hell and drown!
The flood will have served a purpose!
Thank you.
Do you know how to swim?
Like a brick.
- And you? Has your family leR? - Yes.
I entrust you my family. I'm staying.
- Staying where? - Here.
He's not going to become a martyr in the bell-tower.
He'll have saved the village when we return.
Boss, old Spiletti doesn't want to go.
It's that damn priest again. We'll fix that!
Is it true Spiletti is dying?
Nothing serious, it happened before.
Did he mention anything about a contract?
I'm not a lawyer, I take care of souls.
Exactly, I sold him my soul for 1 OOO Lire
and we signed a contract.
Priests invented souls, you know. You fooled the old man
and now you regret it?
1 He'll rot in hell
and what will he do with my paper?
Will he take it with him or his son inherit?
I want it back. I'll return his 1000 lire.
Wait for him in church, I'll see your owner.
- My owner? - Yes, Spiletti.
Provided he's still alive.
Leave me. Go away!
You're not staying to give a bad example.
I don't want to die on a road like a beggar.
Leave it to me, I'll convince him.
You can't reason with a mule. He's leaving, full stop.
Now there, Daddy...
if you come closer, I'll fire!
So? Is this the ouverture?
Yesterday the extreme unction and now you shame yourself?
Stop pretending! He wants to stay with you!
Are you staying?
Yes, but you will leave with them.
No. I stay with you!
But Daddy, this is crazy!
Leave him, I'll put him up in the bell-tower.
There you go!
Both of them up there doing new miracles...
and preparing the elections!
- If you stay, you stay with me! - No!
- Come with me. - No!
You demented old fool!
Give me that. I'll shoot if you come closer.
Mr. Spiletti, come on.
Right, so be it.
But tomorrow, when we're alone in the village,
we'll settle this and all the rest!
Goodbye Peppone!
Goodbye, brothers.
- I have space if you want. - Yes.
May I, Madam?
Mario! Come over and help your friend.
Come on, go.
Up you go!
Take care, see he doesn't catch cold.
I'll join you as soon as I can.
Give him his contract back. He's upset.
His guts are upset?
It can't be. There are only guts inside.
My insides doesn't concern you.
And if there is anything...
anything that... it's not to do with you!
Here then. I don't need it.
It's a deal.
Heep your 1000 lire, that's what it's worth.
The deal is off and everyone keeps his own goods.
Here.
Yes, yes, you take it.
Cursed money, not even good enough for the poor.
Right.
Is everything settled?
As sure as can be.
Good.
Now you've found your soul think how to cleanse it.
I certainly don't need your soap.
Lord, who understands them?
I do, Don Camillo.
Many family camped out on the dyke all night.
The sun rose on a frosty misty Sunday
and the water kept on rising.
No flood can stop Sunday from coming.
Is that clear?
Even if you feel strong, don't pull too hard.
The flood has reopened the crack, it isn't too sturdy!
Don't you worry!
It's Mass!
Brothers,
brothers,
brothers...
My dear brothers...
The Holy function cannot take place due to the circumstances,
may our prayer rise up towards the sky.
It isn't the first time our houses are flooded.
Man has witnessed many floods.
But one day, the waters will withdraw,
the sunshine will come out,
flowers will bud
and dawn will begin again.
Yes, the day of your return is close.
We will start again all together.
We will again hear the noise of Mr. Bottazzi's forge,
our beloved mayor,
Biondo's saw, that throws shivers down our backs,
Rocca the shoemaker's hammer that gives us such a headache.
All those noises that bother us so
but that we miss so much.
The children's cries in the courtyard...
Then we will remember the brotherhood
that brought us together in those terrible times.
And with the strength the Lord has given us,
we will strive again,
so that the sun can shine more brightly,
so that flowers may be more beautiful,
and so that one day misery may vanish
from our towns and villages.
We will forget our contentions
and when we will feel like biting back, we will smile instead.
Then it will be easier
and our village will become a little piece of paradise.
I will see you again, all of you.
May peace be with you so far from home.
I will hold the fort. Amen.
Thank you, Lord, for receiving Your unworthy servant.
Don Camillo, Reverend! It's me, Peppone!
He's here too, Lord? It cannot be!
You seem to be ever_here.
I thought I was in heaven and then I saw you,
then I realised that it was purgatory.
If ever I go up there,
I hope I never meet you. Heaven is a big enough place.
Did you fish me out?
It's not the best thing I've done in my life.
Here.
What, are you here too?
I've decided not to die until everything is back in order.
- He hasn't spoken again. - He's saving his strength!
Let's put him in an ambulance.
A stretcher!
You insist on staying?
- Of course. - Well, that makes mo of us.
- Are you the mayor? - Yes.
The Prefect needs you to take care of your citizens.
- You must come with me. - What?
Mayor, duty calls.
I should have leR you in the drink!
- Do you know what this is? - It's a nail.
I'll make you swallow it sideways when I return!
Your clock, I'll throw a hammer at it!
I'll set fire to what's leR of the bell-tower.
Iconoclast! It's your fault it's broken.
I'm not afraid of a wet priest or a dry one.
- What? - Yes!
I think we were getting angry.
It's ten on the dot.
Look, the sun has come out!
- We thought it would never return. - We can go back to our homes!
- Goodbye, Reverend. - See you soon!
Have a nice trip, Don Camillo! Look, the sun has come out!
See you all in church on Sunday.
I'm sorry I must leave.
Wish I could be there to help you again.
- Help me drown? - Precisely!
Here, you will be bored stiff by yourself.
You will have all the time to smoke a good cigar.
- Thank you. - It's my last one.
I'll send you more with the supplies.
Take care!
You too, Mr. Mayor.
Send my love to little Lenin.
I will.
Now there's no church anymore. Where will you go?
To the Town Hall.
- What? - The Town Hall!
Goodbye brothers and sisters, see you soon!
Mayor, Mayor!
We're waiting for you!
Lord, protect these good people.
I hope you forgive me for thinking that I was in heaven.
It was rather badly frequented, but I felt at home.
This isn't the time to rest,
you will have much to do...
Always at your service, my Lord.
Translation: Mary Horach.
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