Obsession Page #2

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so much money.

She loves money,

and she deserves it.

- Everybody likes money.

- And women.

Oh, not everybody likes money, signor.

You take my partner here,

Michael.

He and I own, in New Orleans...

one of the biggest, best plots of land

in the suburban city.

For 15, 16 years...

he has refused to build anything

on that land.

Nothing but a tomb.

If you gentlemen will excuse me,

it's a little late.

Late? He thinks it's late.

Hell, I haven't even danced yet.

You should have stayed with us

last night, Court.

We aren't getting any younger.

Found that out, did you?

You're not upset

about last night, are you?

So what are we gonna do today?

I don't know. I thought we might

just do a little sightseeing...

absorb a little culture

and a little less wine.

That sounds great.

Isn't this the church

where you and Elizabeth met?

I'll be right back.

Well, how was it, Court?

The same.

Well, you about ready to go back

to the old U.S. Of A., Court?

I thought I'd like to stay around

a few more days.

Oh?

I'd like to go back

to that church again.

Why do you wanna do that?

Will you come with me?

Well, okay, if it'd

make you feel better.

Oh, my God.

- You sure you're gonna be all right?

- Yeah, I'll be fine.

- I just need a few days.

- All right.

You take real good care

of yourself now.

Thanks, Bob.

Oh, that's all right.

I speak English.

You are American?

You like the Madonna?

It was painted in 1328...

by Bernardo Daddi.

That's early Renaissance.

- You a student?

- No.

I used to be...

what do you call it?

Bilingual secretary.

Then one day I read

about the restoration project...

and I said, "Sandra,

the Madonna needs you."

So I quit my dull job,

and here I am...

an art historian.

I can't think of anything

more important.

Well, at least they don't

holler and scream at you...

when you talk to strange men.

What do you do?

I'm in land development,

real estate.

Ah. Well, that sounds important.

It's not.

My name is Courtland.

Michael Courtland.

Happy to meet you.

I'm Sandra.

Sandra Portinari.

You've been doing this work

a long time?

Oh, I'm not doing the restoration.

I'm just a workman.

But I prepare everything

for the specialist.

You see, several years ago...

long after the floods...

moisture seeped into a portion

of the altarpiece...

and it began to peel...

revealing an older painting

underneath.

Then the art scholars

had to decide what to do.

Should they remove and destroy

a great painting by Daddi...

to uncover what appears to be

a crude first draft underneath it?

Or should they restore

the original...

but never know for sure

what lies beneath it?

What would you do?

Hold on to it.

Beauty should be protected.

Good. That is what

the scholars decided to do.

Now you have a free lecture,

and you don't have to read the brochure.

I wondered if I might...

repay you for your lecture...

and ask you to dinner somewhere.

You don't understand.

Dinner can be

a pretty serious affair here.

Lunch. I know a place nearby.

Signor, I thought it was the Italian men

who picked up the American women.

All right. Lunch.

But I have to work another

hour and a half before I go.

I'll wait.

So you were in Florence before?

A long time ago.

I was stationed near here

after the war.

I wasn't even born,

but my mother often told me...

how hard times were then.

You live with your mother?

Not anymore. I have an apartment

near Ponte Vecchio.

But I was raised by my mother.

My father deserted us

a long time ago.

That's sad.

What was Florence like

during the Occupation?

Confused.

I'm really not an expert

on the Occupation.

My mind is elsewhere.

I met my wife there.

Oh, the plot thickens.

Let us sit and tell sad tales...

about deserted daughters

and lonely husbands.

I thought you had a familiar

melancholy look...

when you came into the church.

That wasn't...

She died a long time ago.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.

It's just that a single girl...

meets a lot of men,

mostly Americans...

who want to tell her

about their wives.

It's not very flattering.

What was she like?

Elizabeth...

She was very much like you.

Like me?

She was Italian?

No, she looked very much like you.

Do you have a picture of her?

I really have to go now.

May I see you again sometime?

Sure.

We could have

a nonserious dinner.

- Seriously.

- When?

- Tonight.

- Tonight?

Is that all right?

That's only five hours from now.

Plenty of time to change.

All right, but I have to go see

my mother at the hospital after work.

I'll meet you there.

Oh, it's the San Giovanni.

I know.

All right.

See you. Ciao.

Ciao.

You're very fond

of that restaurant, aren't you?

Yeah.

That's where you met Elizabeth.

No, we met in the church

where you're working.

We used to eat

in the restaurant though.

Tell me about her.

- Elizabeth?

- Yes.

Well, as I said before,

she's very much like you.

I mean,

she looked very much like you.

She had brown hair...

and wore it longer,

kind of different, you know.

And she wore pink lipstick.

And she never wore rouge.

Oh, her walk...

Her walk was 180 degrees

different than yours.

- Different?

- Yeah.

- She had a very Bryn Mawr walk.

- Bryn Mawr?

Yeah, very Bryn Mawr.

What do you mean, "Bryn Mawr"?

Bryn Mawr?

That's kind of a walk.

It's... Well, it's...

It's... I don't...

Just walk, and I'll...

Just go ahead and walk upstairs.

No, that's an Italian walk.

What do you expect?

It's a good walk, but it's

just not a Bryn Mawr walk.

A Bryn Mawr walk

is a kind of a glide, you know?

Those girls used to wear long polo coats

in those old days, long raincoats.

They kind of glide,

like they're late for class.

They move fast

and just kinda glide.

This time now, just glide.

I'll talk you through it, okay?

- All right.

- Don't sashay so much. Just glide.

- All right.

- Go ahead.

Just glide.

No, not like a model.

Just glide.

That's it. That's it.

She called me Mike.

Mike?

Listen, I am a good Catholic girl.

I obey everything the pope says.

You know?

What would the pope say

if I saw you tomorrow?

You forget I have a job to do.

Tomorrow night.

Let's wait a couple of days,

all right?

Saturday.

I'm free all day Saturday.

- What time?

- Oh, 11:
00?

I'll be here.

All right.

Good night.

Move to your right.

All right, come closer now.

Come closer.

A little closer.

What is that, a love sonnet

from an Italian boyfriend?

No, it isn't. Jealous.

That's Dante.

"While life endures...

you should not ever

be inconstant to your lady...

who in death doth lie.

So speaks my heart

and afterwards doth sigh."

You know, as a child...

I used to go to the church...

where Dante came

to watch Beatrice.

Beatrice, la bella donna,

would sit here...

with her father...

and there...

Come here.

- Over there.

- I'm her father.

The young Dante, 23 years old...

would stand and watch Beatrice.

And here...

in between...

sat the Lady of the Screen...

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