Amina Persa Page #3

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he knew a tragic love for...

Well,I won't go

into the details.

It was an overwhelming love.

For a girl who turned out to be

different from her image.

It left him

with an incurable wound.

- Is that what caused...

- Yes. Maybe the catalyst.

But I put it down to ancestral,

familial factors.

Madness is like a sprite creeping

randomly into people's heads.

At times every two generations.

So,one day,

he started forming an idea,

a phobia,a whim...

It's always a whim

that drives us to madness.

He started to fear that his face

was slipping off his head,

sliding down his chest

to his feet

and vanishing on the floor.

- Understand?

- Not really.

A spinechilling obsession.

He took to looking at himself

in the mirror more often

to check whether his nose

or eyes had in fact descended

With a ruler,every day,

he'd measure the distance

between his nose and hairline.

- He was mad all right.

- Mind you,there is...

there's a psychological

explanation to his mania.

The fear of seeing one's face

slip off

is nothing but fear

of losing one's identity.

Losing oneself.

Know what that is?

A mental asylum.

How could I let my brother

die in there?

possibly strapped to a bed?

Look!

Poor souls!

Guilty only of rejecting common

sense and its vile rules.

Hello,Minister!

Come and keep me company.

Do you know why

they're locked up?

Because like kids,

the insane know the truth.

And people fear the truth.

Has he been in that room since,

seeing nobody?

Nobody except me.

He's in there with his toys,

his things...

He's quite well equipped

He even has movie-cameras,

microscopes...

He loathes clocks though.

He can't stand their ticking.

My brother would often

come here before becoming...

a recluse.

He loved this long

abandoned oil tanker.

He'd stare at her for hours.

Then suddenly he'd yell out

a word.

A name...Eufrasio.

I wonder why.

Eufrasio.

That's how he yelled.

Who knows why?

Until recently there was

some rationale to his madness.

He'd film interesting,

curious material.

There was order,

logic to it.

He was very interested

in spiders,arachnids...

scorpions...

and in the dipterans...

which are,as you don't know,

what we commonly call flies.

Nature can be so cruel.

A sharp,but above all,

very original remark.

Here is a film

shot a few years later.

He had already lost interest

in living things.

What?

Who included that footage?

I don't know.

I didn't do it.

That's enough.

Let's move to the table.

Tino,some wine please.

- It's your third glass.

- No,Engineer. My second.

No,your third

It's your birthday soon.

What would you like?

Forget it. I'm too old

for presents now.

I think I'll have a drop.

Enough,darling.

It's bad for your skin.

We must give you a present

though.

A diligent boy like you

deserves it.

It's a shame today's youth has

lost interest in such things.

Here.

You see,Tino...

my father gave me these

on my 18th birthday.

American duelling pistols

from 1830. Look.

Such elegant lines.

Nothing's more perfect than arms

and musical instruments.

A pistol in particular,

has a rational,

essential type of beauty.

Some things may remind you

of other things.

But a pistol can only ever

remind you of a pistol.

- Please don't do that.

- Why?

- Think I could kill you?

- No.

Yes.

You think it's possible.

So little do we know

each other.

The chiropodist's arrived.

Accidents happen to all of us.

Every day people fall

into a canal.

But not her.

She's as reliable as bad luck.

It's no good

covering up things.

You're an adult.

- Did you notice that girl?

- Yes.

She's one of those.

She comes every Thursday...

for the professor.

His mind may be sick

but he's still a man.

We have to accept it.

Charity doesn't only mean

alms and kind words.

Besides,what the poor woman

is forced to do

is anything but fun

or pleasure.

Does Uncle go with her

upstairs?

Of course. He stays there

the whole time.

He doesn't trust him.

And I can see why.

God only knows

what could happen.

Having to watch all that

must be...

Once we thought

we should change.

Mr Stolz took on the demeaning

task of finding another,

of negotiating with her...

All in vain. He wouldn't

accept any other woman.

We trust her. She comes

and goes so discreetly.

Like a nurse.

Nurse my foot! She's a whore.

Why not say so?

I'll make him disinfect

himself.

He's so polite. He walks her

to the door and shakes hands.

This is Vermeer's

Sleeping Girl.

Next time I'll go through

its virtues and beauty.

Today we'll discover

something else.

This is a detail

of the painting.

Look very carefully.

This isn't a still life

by Czanne

Here is an enlargement of it.

Sandokan,come and lift up

these apples.

Hold up the Czanne.

Aren't they similar?

And isn't this a Burri?

Just like this one.

what did modern artists

invent? Nothing!

- Rascal!

- How dare you?

- I'm going,Sir.

- Good day,my dear.

What I mean is

that everything the moderns do

can be found

in the old masters.

But in their paintings

we find a lot more too.

Get the idea,

you jackasses?

Especially you,Francesca.

And you,Tino.

Where's that baboon gone?

He plays with toys like a kid.

He shoots short films too.

Films about what?

Insect behaviour,for instance,

ants,spiders...

My uncle showed me a few.

Aren't you afraid of living

with a madman?

I am. But I feel sorry

for him.

Yesterday,I went to see him

unbeknown to anyone.

- What was he doing?

- Having coffee.

- Nothing wrong with that.

- Sure.

But he poured it into his saucer

and then lapped it up.

Disgusting

- Like this place? It's famous.

- The come from everywhere.

Especially America.

Writers,film stars...

That one must be

an American writer.

That's the owner doing his

accounts. He makes money.

- It's pricey. Can you pay?

- Of course.

They look like statues.

Let's wake them up.

- It won't be easy.

- Let me try.

- What's going on?

- A Swiss dropped in,then out.

Some people!

Venice has become unlivable.

Come in.

- I'm off.

- Okay, Annetta.

- You'll be home alone.

- Alone?

Well,not really.

You've got him.

- Who is it?

- Me.Lucia

- I'm so happy to see you.

- What's come over you?

They've all gone out.

I'm home alone.

- With him.

- Him?

- Where are you going?

- I don't want to intrude.

I'm alone.

How could you intrude?

- Where are you taking me?

- Let's have a drink.

- What brings you here?

- Aren't you glad?

Yes,of course.

- Where is he?

- In the attic.

- Can I see him?

- Do you really want to?

- Yes...I do.

- Let's go,then.

What a sitting room!

Your relatives must be wealthy.

Little Red Riding Hood goes

to see the Big Bad Wolf.

- This way.

- After you.

Watch your step.

Come.

- Afraid?

- No, But...

I'm here.

Come along

Careful. He might hear you.

I can't see him.

- Oh,it's you.

- Let me see.

What a fright!

My heart's pounding.

- Can you feel it?

- I sure can.

What's that?

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