This morning I got up and out of the blue ... well ... I had very bad news. I have in mind, then, a movie worthy of mention that I've seen this year: Whatever works by Woody Allen. I reproduce below a couple of the finest monologues (in Italian because you are the first to review) but also the sequences, starting and ending in the original language.
Monologue initial Boris Yelnikoff:
Why do you want to hear my story?
We have met? There
like us? Feel
tell you now, ok, I'm not a nice guy, sympathy has never been a priority for me, and to be clear, this is not a movie for oh how I'm feeling good. If you're feeling good about those idiots that need to go for a foot massage.
...
But what is the significance of it all? Nothing. Zero. None. It all ends in nothing. Although there are gibbering idiots. I do not mean me. I've got a vision. I'm talking about you. Of your friends. Of your colleagues. Of your papers. Tv. All very happy to talk. Completely uninformed. Morale. Science. Religion. Politics. Sport. Love. Your investments. Your children. Health. Shit, if I have to eat nine servings of fruit a day to live, I do not want to live. I hate fruits and vegetables. And your omega 3. And the treadmill. And the electrocardiogram. And the mammogram. And the resonance pelvis. And, oh my god, colonoscopy. And all this comes the day incu they stick you in a box. And on with another generation of idiots who will tell you all about life, and decide what is appropriate for you. My father committed suicide because of the morning papers depressed him. And you can blame him? With horror, corruption, ignorance, and poverty, genocide, and AIDS, and global warming, and terrorism and family values \u200b\u200bof those idiots, maniacs and those weapons. The horror of Kurz at the end of Heart of Darkness, the horror. And blessed he did not distribute The Times in the jungle, otherwise he would have seen the horror. What can you do? Make sure to read any massacre in Darfur or a school bus blew up, and attacked oh my god the horror. Then turn the page and finish your free-range eggs. Why so much you can do? He is overwhelmed. I also tried to commit suicide. Obviously it did not work. Why would you want to hear these things. You already have your problems. I'm sure you obsessed by a large number of sad hopes and dreams, from your predictably unsatisfactory love lives, from your business failed, ah if only I had bought those shares, if only I had bought that house years ago, if only c'avessi tried with that woman, if this, if that, you know what, I could spare me your I should have. As my mother always said if my grandmother had wheels it would be a coach. My mother had wheels, had varicose veins. Still, the lady has given birth to a brilliant mind, I have taken into consideration for the Nobel Prize for physics. I've got, but you know, it's all politics, like every other fake honor. Just between us? Do not think that I'm bitter for a personal blow. By the standards of a senseless and barbaric civilization, I was pretty lucky.
Final Monologue of Boris Yelnikoff:
is why I will not say it enough. Whatever you manage to love giving and taking, any happiness you manage to sneak or procure, any temporary gift of grace, just that it works. And do not deceive, does not depend at all on your human ingenuity. More than they want to accept, is the fortune to govern. , So far as the chances of a sperm from your father's billions to find the single egg that made you. Do not think otherwise there is a panic attack.
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