Farinelli Page #2

---

We'll show him...

what the Broschi brothers

can do!

If I could sing Orpheus--

That's impossible, Carlo.

It won't be ready yet.

You know that very well.

You know it.

You'll never finish it.

I'll never sing it.

Will you speak to me today

without a middleman?

What grandeur!

What poise.

Seeing you like this,

I understand your irresistible rise.

It's been a long time

since I heard you sing.

As the King of England's

envoy, I had to--

Am I distracting you?

His Majesty will do anything

to have you at Covent Garden.

He has a passion

for singers...

and snuff boxes.

To be brief...

the King wants to add you

to his collection.

At any price.

And you, Maestro,

do you need me?

They say your voice

is exceptional.

If you manage to arouse

the slightest emotion in me...

with this awful

jumble of notes...

then you're

the world's greatest singer.

You still have

to prove to me...

that you're more

than a singing machine.

Give me what none of your kind

has ever managed to give me.

And to answer your question...

I need nobody, Farinelli,

nobody.

You're sweating.

It's ruining your makeup.

I'll come for your answer

after the performance...

in your dressing room.

We'll talk things over.

Signor Broschi!

How is he?

He's asleep.

I must see him!

- I'll wait all night if necessary.

- What do you want?

I really have to speak to him.

It's urgent.

I'm here.

No, I'm sorry.

My message is not for you.

It's for Signor Farinelli

in person.

- In person?

- In person.

I'll come...

for your answer...

in your dressing room."

Where is he?

Who?

Maestro Handel.

Where is he?

The performance was canceled.

He left like everyone else.

He was supposed to come.

Who are you?

Alexandra.

I'm Alexandra Lerris.

But you don't know me.

I've brought you a message...

from Maestro Porpora.

He's desperate.

He needs you. Do you hear me?

Do you hear me?

Look at me.

Since he took over the Nobles Theater,

he's fought hard.

But he's being ruined

by the King's and Handel's theater.

His competition

has an unfair advantage.

He needs you, Farinelli.

He does.

You must help Porpora.

Come to London.

- Come help him.

- I'm afraid he didn't hear you.

It's the opium.

London, 1734

Try this wine,

Signor Farinelli.

I have it sent from France

from the vineyards...

that I inherited

from my father.

Would you kindly look

in my direction?

I know I look frightening,

but I'm really quite nice.

Forgive me.

How old are you, child?

How strange.

Child is what

my mother calls me.

I'm 12.

But I'm really much older.

That's the big advantage

of being ill.

My name is Benedict.

But I'm not blessed at all.

Would your singers

defect to Covent Garden?

Sell themselves to Handel?

All's fair in the war

between our theaters.

And the singers know it.

Some of them extort

a fortune from us.

I suspect Handel

encourages such blackmail.

I doubt that he'd meet

their demands.

Although the King

supports his theater...

he's almost as broke

as we are.

Is my nose out of place?

Why are you staring at me?

I admire your nerve, madame...

in daring to defy Handel.

Women are very strong,

Signor Farinelli.

Men's weaknesses

make it necessary.

Bravo! Fantastic!

What is that?

Put those flowers away.

You look ridiculous.

Alexandra,

there's his brother.

Beware of Riccardo.

They say

that the Broschi brothers...

share everything,

even their conquests.

I know I'm late.

But you've provoked such an uproar.

Here we are, alone,

while all of London clamors for you.

Carlo, dear brother, you're crazy.

But I love you.

When I said you wouldn't

attend the reception, it was as if...

I'd announced

the end of the world!

I'm flattered, Carlo.

Flattered and moved.

Yes, yes. I'm moved.

And dying of hunger

and thirst.

Let's drink!

Tonight I'd like to have

every woman in the world.

Marvelous!

It's been too long since we shared

a real brotherly meal.

Porpora is overjoyed.

Nobody attended Handel's theater

this evening.

He had to cancel

the performance.

All of London was with us

at the Nobles.

To listen to us, Carlo,

your voice...

and my music!

I love you, Carlo.

And my new opera...

will make history.

It's sh*t!

What?

You heard perfectly well.

Then why all this acclaim?

Are all these people wrong?

Why did they applaud?

What's wrong with you?

You're never satisfied.

All Europe is at our feet.

What more do you want?

What's wrong, Carlo?

Talk to me, Carlo.

Don't worry about a thing.

You were magnificent.

It's completely unnoticeable,

believe me.

Just a tiny tremolo.

So tiny that it only happens

in the very highest appoggiaturas.

Nobody noticed it,

I swear.

I spotted it a while back,

but--

Are you feeling better?

You hear that, Riccardo?

After all, you're not deaf.

You substitute virtuosity

with inspiration.

All those embellishments

and flourishes...

all those adornments...

that you heap on

to your scores!

I invent them for your voice.

Forget about my voice!

I can't.

You know I can't.

I promised our father.

Better think about the music.

It should touch the heart.

Find the true,

essential feeling.

I want your music to rouse

that fragment of the infinite...

that lies asleep

in their bellies.

That's what I ask of you.

Such ingratitude!

What about Orpheus?

Orpheus!

Orpheus doesn't exist.

You'll never finish it.

I don't lack inspiration.

I lack the time!

You take all my time.

All of my time!

Rise, Signor Farinelli.

Permit the Prince of Wales

to pay you homage.

The Nobles Theater

is eternally grateful to you...

for saving its honor,

as well as the honor...

of this country's nobility.

My voice is at the service of music,

Your Highness.

Your voice...

Signor Farinelli...

attracts the most

discerning audiences.

And despite the support

of His Majesty...

you're stealing from Handel

his last remaining listeners.

Not that we're displeased!

What do you mean?

These operas Handel composes

in three weeks...

are an insult

to his audience.

- Who spread this slander?

- Rumors.

Rumors that you stoop

to peddle, sir!

- Have you heard these operas, sir?

- You're joking, young lady.

That would be treason.

We never attend Covent Garden.

I have heard them. They surpass

anything one hears anywhere else.

I can't imagine Handel's work

surpasses Maestro Porpora's work.

Or that of Signor Broschi.

You're an ass, sir.

You don't deserve to have ears!

Long after posterity

has forgotten...

that you ever lived...

it will preserve Handel's name

with infinite respect.

Your conceited attitude...

is an insult

to all musicians.

I'd like to erase from my memory

this cursed day...

when I sang for you!

You're cheating, Carlo.

He always cheated.

He can't stand to lose.

Neither can I.

But I don't cheat.

I taught you how to sing,

Carlo Broschi.

Don't forget

that I was your teacher.

Don't add ingratitude...

to your insolence.

Say something.

What is he thinking?

He's decided to humiliate us

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes