Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx www.addic7ed.com
(intro to "Back Street Luv" by Curved Air playing)
♪ ♪
(woman whoops)
♪ Summer's comin', time to dream ♪
♪ The day away ♪
♪ And she's so sunny ♪
♪ Is the girl ♪
♪ You met today ♪
♪ Will she make it? ♪
♪ Can she take it? ♪
♪ Like to try love ♪
♪ Such a shy love ♪
♪ Where's ♪
♪ Your smile ♪
♪ Today? ♪
- (distorted clamoring) - ♪ Did she let you... ♪
♪ ♪
(intro to "Easy Livin'" by Uriah Heep playing)
♪ This is a thing I've never known before ♪
♪ It's called easy livin' ♪
♪ This is a place I've never seen before ♪
♪ And I've been forgiven ♪
♪ Easy livin' ♪
♪ And I've been forgiven ♪
♪ Since you've ♪
♪ Taken your place in my... ♪
(camera shutter clicking)
♪ ♪
("Ballroom Blitz" by The Sweet playing)
- ♪ Andy? ♪ - ♪ Yeah ♪
- ♪ Mick? ♪ - ♪ Okay ♪
♪ All right, fellas ♪
♪ Let's go! ♪
♪ ♪
- ♪ Oh, it's been getting so hard ♪ - (woman moaning)
♪ Living with the things you do to me ♪
♪ My dreams are getting so strange ♪
♪ I'd like to tell you everything I see... ♪
- (song fading) - (gasping breaths)
(woman sobbing)
(clattering nearby)
(woman continues sobbing)
(grunts)
(woman sobs)
(grunts) Uno...
uno... otto...
- zero... zero, nove... - Uno,
otto, zero, nove!
- Zero? - Nove!
(speaks Italian)
(cackles)
(woman sobbing)
MAN: No.
(man speaks Italian)
(speaks Italian)
No. No, no!
♪ ♪
(lighter flicks)
♪ ♪
(vehicle approaching)
♪ ♪
Sorry, man.
Sorry.
(sighs)
Listen, man, I wasn't well.
So I wasn't thinking straight.
You know?
Hey.
Listen to me, man.
- Hey! - I'm sorry.
You make any more fucking noise,
and I will kill you here, right now.
♪ ♪
(engine starts)
♪ ♪
(car accelerating)
(distorted, echoing whispers)
PAUL III: I'm John Paul Getty.
GUESTS: John Paul Getty III.
(tires squeal)
(distorted, echoing voices)
♪ ♪
(cawing echoes)
(distorted, echoing voices)
What's for dinner?
I'm starving.
(groans) Pasta.
Pasta with nothing.
Anyone got any money?
Jesus, we broke again?
We're always broke. Done.
This is no-food broke, Paul.
No, I know.
Love will provide.
No, it won't.
Hey. Paul?
Come on. Ask your mother.
Just a loan, for Christ's sake.
You can pay her back when we get sorted.
Jutta... (speaks Italian)
I'm never going back there.
Not while that fucker Jeffries is around.
If I don't earn it, it's not mine.
I pay my way.
So... pasta.
PAUL III: Mm. No-no-no-no.
Hey, you watch. Berto will lap this one up, I know it.
If he doesn't, then, uh...
I got a joker up my sleeve.
(laughter)
- Yeah, dinner's on me, that's a promise. - MARCELLO: Yes!
♪ Puorte 'e cazune cu nu stemma arreto ♪
♪ Na cuppulella cu 'a visiera aizata... ♪
- I'm hungry for dinner. - PAUL III: Bertolini!
My man.
My man. Ciao, Dolce.
- Mwah! - Hey...
A painting, huh?
When you have a painting, you have no money.
Hey, chill out, man. I got a new one.
Different, though. Very different.
- You ready? - Whoa-hey!
PAUL III: Nice, huh?
Racy.
Nice enough. So?
All right...
just for you.
(gasps) Dolce!
(speaking excitedly in Italian)
The very same, right?
The very same! I love it!
(laughing loudly)
Okay, sit down.
Giovanni! Sit.
(laughs) But this is the last, okay?
- The last, capito? - Thank you, Berto. Capito.
Berto.
I'll be back.
My naked body versus a dog's: the dog wins.
Wins big.
When did you do that terrible painting, Paul?
Took a photo last week. Smart.
One more, Dolce. Ready?
- (camera clicks) - ♪ Quanno se fa ll'ammore sott' 'a luna ♪
♪ Comme te vene 'ncapa 'e di "I love you." ♪
♪ ♪
Hey.
MARCELLO: Oh. Berto.
- Roman Polanski, eh? - (chuckles)
(speaks indistinctly)
(laughs)
Hey, where'd you get to?
You know Berto,
- shooting the shit. - Oh, yeah.
He said he want to come to Roman's.
- You didn't say yes, did you? - Marcello.
What? He's all right, no?
(chuckling): Yeah.
Yeah. Yeah.
♪ ♪
Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Polanski.
I'm Francesco Bertolini, but you can call me Berto.
Just simply Berto. (chuckles)
For old friends, my name is Berto.
Huh?
("Silver Machine" by Hawkwind plays)
Kiss me.
(music fades)
♪ Took a ride ♪
♪ In a silver machine ♪
♪ And I'm still feeling mean... ♪
Come and dance.
- Where'd you get that? - Marcello.
Where'd he get that?
♪ ♪
We're going to Roman's. Coming?
Come on, Paul.
- What's the matter? - Nothing.
MARTINE: I thought we're not into couples.
We're not.
So, we're cool?
♪ It's an electric line ♪
- ♪ To your zodiac sign ♪ - (whoops)
♪ I've got a silver machine ♪
♪ I've got a silver machine. ♪
♪ ♪
(shouts)
(laughing)
Marcello!
(whistles) Hey!
- Marcello! (whistles) - Go, go.
Hey! Marcello!
- Hey! - Let's go!
Let's go! Let's go!
(laughing)
- Bye-bye! - Berto,
- annamo da Roman! - Avevi detto...
Ciao, Berto!
(yelling in Italian)
I see you!
I see you.
(knocking)
Luigi.
(door rattles)
(speaks Italian)
(door closes)
Please, Mr. Polanski!
(music playing in distance)
Marcello!
- (whistles) Marcello! - (barks)
Oh!
(both yelling in Italian)
(gasps)
(muttering in Italian)
(shouting)
(muttering)
Always this one, hmm?
Yeah.
My granddad showed it to me when I was tiny.
LUIGI: You know what happened to him, Battista,
- San Giovanni? - No.
You know King Herod?
Well, his daughter did a dance for him so beautiful
that Herod said, "You can have anything you want,
anything in the world you want."
And what did she want?
The head of him, John the Baptist.
Cut.
And she got it?
LUIGI: Uh-huh-huh. She got it. Italian style.
Served on a silver plate.
Shit.
That's women for you.
(door closes)
- (quietly): Martine? - Mm.
Hey.
I'm Jutta.
- Where is she? - Mm.
- (door opens) - (Bertolini speaking Italian)
(door closes)
(speaking Italian)
- What the fuck? - Hey.
This stays here.
Enjoy your evening, huh?
- PAUL III: What are you doing? - A small, little favor
for somebody who has done you big favors, huh?
- Well, yeah... - There will be somebody outside watching.
Watching what?
"Watching what?"
(scoffs)
You owe me. And because you owe me, I owe others.
And when that happens,
- that shit happens. - Relax, man.
- Come on, there's... - Shut up.
I'm sick of little millionaires who don't pay.
You mean the paintings?
The paintings? The pain...
(stammers) Fuck the paintings!
How many fucking paintings you gonna do for $6,000?
Huh? You think cocaine is free!
Like the bread and olives on the table!
Every time I hear it, huh? "Getty will pay,
Getty will pay, Getty will pay." Yes?
So now Getty pays Fatso. $6,000.
PAUL III: I don't have $6,000. I don't have anything.
Berto, amico...
Mo' arrivano, mo' arrivano. Mo' mi so' rotto
i coglioni! Capito?
Hey, I don't have $6,000. You know that.
Get it!
Get it.
Go to Mommy, go to Daddy, go wherever the fuck
and get my money!
You have one week. Get it!
(speaks Italian)
(speaking Italian)
(door slams)
"Getty will pay"?
That's what you told him? "Getty will pay"?
Marcello, you're always the one with the gear.
I thought that...
I've been paying for that?
All of it?
Fuck!
Come on, Paul, where do you think it came from?
- I don't have any money, do I? - Neither do I!
Fuck off. You're John Paul Getty.
Yeah. I'm not my father. I'm not my grandfather.
I'm John Paul Getty. And John Paul Getty's
got no fucking money!
Please. You can get it just like that.
That's what you think?
That's what you all think?
Martine?
No.
Course not.
Really? (stammers)
You've been spending money that isn't even mine.
That I don't want, that I haven't earned,
that I fucking refuse. Behind my back. I'm...
6,000 fucking dollars.
(exhales)
Paul. Listen, Paul.
I'm sorry!
- Paul. Paul! - (door closes)
(engine starts)
Fuck.
His guy's outside.
Oh, shit.
(scooter approaching)
MARK: Incoming!
Oh!
Oh, what a catch for me!
- Okay, but despite the crowd... - Pass it to me, Paul.
- ...he makes it through! - Ah, stop.
- He makes it through this time. - Pass it to me.
But then... ha! He's at the ten.
He's at the five! And it's a touchdown!
- Oh, come on. - Come on, we did good.
(chuckles) Okay, I'll be back.
Hi.
Hey.
Oh, your hair is beautiful.
Ah, it's like a girl's. I'm gonna get it cut.
It's like an angel's.
- It's so good to see you. - Where is he?
No, no. He's... It's okay. He's in the garden. Come on.
- BOTH: Oh, come on, Paul! - Shh!
Paul's spending some time with his mother!
Come on.
You're thin, Paulie.
I'm fine.
(kids chattering playfully outside)
Thanks.
Yeah.
What's wrong?
Nothing.
You're my son.
I know.
- What's wrong? - I've, uh...
I've been a little stupid. I got into some trouble.
Well, it's nothing we can't sort out.
I miss you.
They miss you.
Why don't you come home, Paul?
MARK: Are you coming home, Paul?
- PAUL III: Uh, maybe. - Away.
- We're talking. - Okay.
What kind of trouble?
Money trouble, mostly.
- Oh, Paul. - I was doing okay,
- I really was... - I don't have much myself.
Your father hasn't sent me anything since January.
He doesn't take my calls.
I don't know what that's about, but...
It's my, um... rainy day money.
Mom.
You know I can't take that.
Take it.
Paul's come for lunch.
Greenbacks for lunch. Mmm, tasty.
- GAIL: Lang... - Scrounging for money, huh?
(water runs, stops)
There's always... plenty of work in the garden.
- Please. - Five dollars an hour.
That's a fair offer.
I mean, I'm working for free, right?
What? Scared of a little hard work, huh?
(scoffs) You don't even know what that is.
- Fuck you. - Paul...
Yeah, you wouldn't like that, would you?
Poor little rich kid might get a sweat on,
and that's not the Getty way, is it?
No, the Getty way is to do fuck all and wait
for the inheritance to roll in.
You think I'd come home? With him in the house?
I'd rather beg on the street.
Oh, yeah, that's right, run away.
How can you go anywhere near him?
He's disgusting.
- You're disgusting. - Paul.
JEFFRIES: Don't talk to your mother like that.
You see his eyes?
He's on something, he's definitely on something.
He was gonna come home.
How much money did you give him?
You're such a jerk.
Hey, has anyone seen my passport?
MARTINE: Is this what she gave you?
How is this going to help?
- It's enough. - For what?
PAUL III: To get me to England.
To go begging for money from Daddy,
like the little rich kid I am.
Right?
MARTINE: Wait.
Paul.
Hey, Paul.
You're going to England?
When will you be back?
- Paul, I'm sorry. - About what?
This. Marcello. You know?
Hey, I-I thought...
- you know, we said it was okay. - (engine starts)
Didn't we?
Yeah, that's what we said.
(squawks)
PAUL: In honor of my successor
- in Getty Oil... - (snorts)
...my grandson John Paul Getty III.
GUESTS: John Paul Getty III.
BERTOLINI: Go to Mommy, go to Daddy,
go wherever the fuck and get my money!
(squawking)
(bird cawing)
PAUL III: Is this necessary?
(grunts)
(panting)
Oh. Sunflowers.
- Ah, but they're all dying. - (unzips zipper)
Like everyone.
Got any water?
- No. - (urinating)
Look, I messed up, okay?
I'm sorry.
I-I got desperate, you know?
The coke, and...
I went a little crazy, but I'm better now, really.
Hey, I'm not going anywhere.
(exhales)
PAUL III: Ow.
So, do they really follow the sun?
Only when they are young.
This is the countryside, huh?
Well, that's... that's cool with me.
Ah.
(clears throat)
Man, you got my books, too, Berto?
- I could do with something to read. - Shh! Shut up!
(vehicle approaching)
What's going on?
Berto?
Ooh, whoa, whoa. What's happening here?
Wait, wait, wait, what's happening here?
- I said shut up! - (grunting)
Here.
Don't move.
(engine roaring)
(engine stops)
(sniffs)
(Paul III groans)
(Primo sniffs)
What's this? Uh...
This isn't what we agreed.
Change of management.
What? No. No way.
Please, don't speak.
Fuck this.
Fuck.
Hey, no. Bertolini.
Per favore.
- Okay. - Ah.
(engine starts)
(speaks Italian)
♪ ♪
(horn honking)
Come.
(speaking Italian)
(horn honking in distance)
(insects buzzing)
(car horn honking)
(groans)
(horn stops honking)
(groaning)
(insects trilling, Bertolini groaning)
(groaning continues)
(groaning)
Primo. Primo, per favore.
(panting)
BERTOLINI: Paul?
(panting)
Are you coming?
Paul?
Paul? Paul?
(choking, muffled yelling)
(Primo sighs, Bertolini groans)
(grunting)
♪ ♪
(grunts weakly)
(Primo sighs)
♪ Wow! ♪
Oi.
(Paul III pants)
(Paul III gasping loudly)
(Primo speaks Italian)
(both grunting)
(both panting)
(speaking Italian)
(panting heavily)
(speaking Italian)
(panting heavily)
(speaking Italian)
(Primo mumbles)
Mm, no.
No, I can't.
(laughs)
Please.
- Come in. - (panting)
Come in.
- Move! - (grunts)
(groans)
(gasping)
(car engine starts)
(engine revs)
(bells ringing)
(Bertolini sighs)
- I haven't got the money. - (laughs)
One look. One look, I see that.
But I can get it... and more.
This is like an old song.
I am tired of singing, Paul.
This is gonna make you rich.
Very rich.
(bells ringing)
Giovanni?
Walk with me. Dolce?
(panting)
PAUL III: What happened with Martine and Jutta?
BERTOLINI: You... you...
Stupid bitch nearly killed us all is what.
Too much cocaine for everybody.
(Paul III speaking indistinctly)
- It's bound to work out. - Strange...
(Bertolini continues indistinctly)
It won't go wrong
'cause we're working together, you and me.
- Yeah? - Hmm?
Hey, what about the rewards?
A hundred times more than what I owe you.
Ah, the rewards.
Beautiful view from up here.
In Roman times those who betrayed...
the untrue, the liars... they were thrown
from this rock, this one.
An interesting place to choose, don't you think?
Yeah. I don't know, yeah.
Not too high, not too low.
Enough to kill you, but not instantly.
That's the genius. (laughs)
You lie at the bottom, a-a bag of broken bones.
People pass on the way to work, school, the restaurants,
all the places you used to go without a thought.
And in the middle of this coming and going,
you die very slow, very public,
very painful.
(laughs)
- (laughing) - Whoa.
Jesus. What are you doing?!
If this goes wrong, if you betray me,
I swear I will throw you from this rock,
Paul, just like the old Romans.
- You understand? - It won't go wrong.
- Understand? - It won't go wrong. How can it?
(Bertolini groans)
Jesus Christ.
(pants)
This could be good, no?
Fuck.
(knocking)
Look who it is.
(laughs airily)
Please.
You want me to stay?
Why is he here?
He helped us.
Hey, Martine...
You left us... with that pig Bertolini.
Well, I was getting the money.
- You know that. - They tried to rape us.
- PAUL III: Who? - JUTTA: Bertolini's disgusting friends.
Jesus.
Tell us you have the money, Paul.
I didn't know he would do that. I wouldn't have left you...
Just tell us you have the money.
- I have something better. - JUTTA: Ah, Jesus, shit.
Something I've always had, I just didn't want to use it.
- MARTINE: Not more hippie shit, Paul. - PAUL III: No, no, no.
This isn't hippie shit. This is business.
Look, I go to London looking for a few thousand dollars,
but those assholes wouldn't give it to me.
But I'm worth millions, right?
I'm John Paul Getty III.
Hundreds of millions.
I'm gold.
("Eclipse" by Pink Floyd playing)
MARTINE: So?
PAUL III: So... you all knew.
You were all cashing in.
So now I cash in.
♪ All that you touch and all that you see ♪
But what are you cashing in?
♪ All that you taste ♪
♪ All you feel ♪
Me.
♪ And all that you love ♪
♪ And all that you hate ♪
♪ All you distrust ♪
"They will kill me unless you pay..."
♪ And all that you give... ♪
How much? What am I worth?
$500 million, hmm?
(laughs)
No, that's...
No, they'd have to sell most of Getty Oil for that.
We need quick money. No, we don't want that much.
Just enough for Bertolini and enough for us to live in Morocco.
- Hmm. - $100 million?
♪ And all that you eat... ♪
I'm just gonna leave it up to Bertolini.
"They will kill me unless you pay what...
"they... ask.
"I love you.
Paul."
PAUL III: "Cara Mama, since Thursday,
"I've been in the hands of kidnappers.
"You will have received a telephone call by now.
"It is real.
"Do not tell the police because my life is involved.
"They will kill me unless you pay what they ask.
I love you. Paul."
MARTINE: I don't trust Bertolini.
Or any of them.
PAUL III: What else are we gonna do?
It'll be a week, two at most, and then we're free, finally.
We're out of here.
MARTINE: I guess.
Martine...
...will you marry me?
What?
When this is over, when I'm back.
MARTINE: You can't, Paul.
If you marry before you're 26, they'll, they'll disinherit you, right?
We won't need their money after this.
We'll never hear the word "Getty" again.
I'll just be Paul,
You'll just be Martine, we'll live in Morocco
and have children.
What about Jutta?
What about us?
Sweet Paul.
Will you?
Will you marry me?
- Yes. - Yeah?
Yes, I will.
Ciao.
You're going? Now?
Yeah. Let's get this over with.
The sooner I'm gone, the sooner I'm back.
I love you, Martine.
(dog barking in distance)
Hey, hey, hey.
(speaking Italian)
Welcome.
So this is it, huh?
Mm-hmm.
Where... where's the bathroom?
Ugh.
You want me to shit in a bucket?
You want a hotel? You've been kidnapped.
- Yeah, but... - This is five star.
Most kidnap victims
get beaten, starved, tied to the wall,
sometimes killed.
So shut up.
No... no!
You stay in here, in this room.
Away from the window.
Or-or-or we tie you like a dog.
You and me, we agree you have disappeared.
- Yeah. - So you disappear.
Understand?
♪ ♪
(grunts)
♪ ♪
(speaking Italian)
All right, all right.
Good day for the beach, huh?
Hey.
(speaking Italian)
All right, but I need to shit, so...
- La porta resta aperta. - Resta aperta.
Yes. I get it.
- Bravo. - Right.
(grunts)
(grunting): What?
(groaning)
♪ Wow! ♪
(groaning)
(sputters)
♪ Wow! ♪
(grunts)
Ah.
Yes.
Hey, get in here! I got something to show you.
This is, uh,
this is what I did when my mom and dad
were really yelling at each other.
I'd take my brothers and sisters up to the top
of the roof, and we'd make a boat from the table.
We'd all get in...
cast off and sail away to a tropical island.
We'd get coconuts from the trees,
swim in the ocean, and...
there was a talking parrot.
Parrot?
Uh, pappagallo.
Pappagallo parlando?
Pappagallo.
Uh-huh.
Hey, switch the lights out, I'll show you.
All right.
Okay.
First, there was...
the rabbit.
(squeaking)
- Uh-huh, uh-huh. - And then there's the horse.
- (sputters) - Cavallo.
- (whinnies)
And then, best of all...
a talking bird. (tweets)
(mimics parrot): Pieces of eight.
- (henchman laughs) - (tweeting)
Pieces of eight. Pieces of eight.
Che pieces of eight, huh?
Pieces of eight? Uh...
(speaks Italian)
Gold.
Yeah. Isn't it always about the money?
Ah, ah. Pappagallo.
- Pappagallo. - More pappagallo. All right.
(mimics parrot): You're an idiot.
Oh, oh...
(squawks)
(groaning)
Hey.
I'm getting ill here.
Cramps.
(panting)
Cigarettes?
Finite.
(groans)
(panting)
Hey!
Hey! Get up here!
Fucking get up here now!
I'm getting ill, okay?
So, uh, I need something.
A little coke. Just a little wrap. All right.
You get Bertolini.
You go get him, all right?
You tell him, if he wants me to do this, I need some coke.
What if I die, huh?
- If I die, then... - (stomach growling)
Oh, fuck, I got the shits. It's bad.
Oh, God.
(whimpering)
- (groaning) - (splattering)
La porta resta...
- Ugh. - Please.
Help me. Get Berto.
(groaning)
Fucking hell.
(groaning)
Please.
Per favore.
(speaking Italian)
Hey.
(speaking Italian)
(grunting)
La porta resta aperta!
♪ ♪
I'm free. I escaped.
My life, my shoes. I'm just me.
Right down to my ten toes...
(distorted): ♪ Slash back blazers ♪
♪ And ate all your razors ♪
♪ While pulling the waiters ♪
♪ Talking about Monroe and ♪
♪ Walking on Snow White. ♪
(whimpering)
(engine stops)
(panting)
(car door opens)
You don't know my granddad.
If he says he won't pay, he won't pay.
(speaking Italian)
Don't worry.
They always pay in the end.
Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx www.addic7ed.com
("Why Can't We Live Together" by Timmy Thomas playing)
♪ Tell me why, tell me why, tell me why ♪
♪ Mmm, why can't we live together ♪
♪ Tell me why, tell me why ♪
♪ Mmm, why can't we live together ♪