Chaos (Kaos) (Kaos)

Saro!

It's a male!

...and he's brooding!

It's hot.

You're a male. What are you doing?

Are you sitting on eggs?

This is a job for...

Don't let him go!

He's biting me!

Emanuele! Liseo! What are you guys doing?

Look what we've got here, a male that broods.

Shame on you, you have no pride!

Shame, shame!

Wait...

If you hit it, it's yours.

Go on!

Missed!

Let me try.

My turn.

What are you doing?

- What are you doing? - Hey, Salvatore!

Music.

Go.

"I am a native son of Chaos;

...and not just allegorically, but literally,

...for I was born in the country near a forest called Càvusu

...a dialectal corruption of the ancient...

Greek word "Kàos"

First story THE OTHER SON

Second story MOON SICKNESS

Third story THE JAR

Fourth story REQUIEM

Epilogue CONVERSING WITH MOTHER

First story

THE OTHER SON

"My dear sons..."

"this is your mother writing to you"

"in your land of gold, from our land of tears."

"You left exactly 14 years ago"

"...and for 14 years I've been alone..."

"...waiting for you."

Have you got that?

"Tomorrow, another miserable handful leaves for America."

"Among them I'll choose the brightest, the kindest"

"and entrust him with this letter..."

"...so it reaches you safely."

"I will choose him for his eyes..."

"...because through the eyes you see somebody's heart."

"I'm not one to be fooled by words"

"They may have told you that I've become mad"

"...don't believe them."

"Believe instead, my sons,"

"in the words that this good girl writes for me."

Hey! Giving me the evil eye?

No, more light to see

my sons in Santa Fe.

I'm going to Boston.

So much the better. I don't trust you,

with your shrewd eyes.

Listen to everybody, speak less.

Never spend more than half of what you make.

Don't lend money.

Drink no more than two glasses of wine per day.

Be a man...

...but never marry a foreign woman.

Pray each morning at rise.

Put the dog down, do you hear?!

Let him be. It's our last day.

In American you say, "Women".

In America, Where I have been, 'donne' are 'women'.

'Bacio' is 'kiss'.

'Amore', 'love'.

That raven is bad luck.

Don't cry. I'll come back soon. Stop it.

Salvatore, let her cry. You won't come back.

Mothers, don't believe your children.

Mine left me 14 years ago.

I was forgotten 14 years ago.

I've sent letters and messages.

But never heard a word back from them.

Those leaving, gather 'round.

Doctor! Are you going as well? - Wish I were.

These are their medical certificates.

Give them to Antonio.

There are ten of you. Let's see.

Wait!

He is number six. He's coming as well.

He only has the clothes he's wearing.

Here is the money.

You're worthy. Take my letter.

If I were king, I would destroy all such letters.

Outgoing or incoming. I would not let them arrive.

It is useless.

You said so!

Whether they arrive or not, They're a curse!

They never write about the misery there.

And how they call out like hens...

...for their young ones...

...to get them to join them.

As for you, you must never write to me!

Forget us, all of you.

We shall work our land by ourselves.

forget your women...

they'll go to ruin.

Make way, Mosè.

With that wheel you not going far.

Hurry. Repairs will take three hours at least.

Three hours! We've still got three hours together!

I will write it again.

Is it illegible?

There is nothing written. Just scribbles.

Nothing?

What do you mean nothing?

I spoke it, word for word...

... and she was writing it down.

What does it say?

There is nothing in the letter! Nothing!

What do you mean nothing?

Just scribbles.

You really are dumb, doctor.

You cannot read.

Mariagrazia wrote in "Americanese".

I am so glad.

My sons didn't forget me.

My sons, Doctor, haven't forgotten.

Now I know why they never answered.

They have never received anything.

Bull's eye!

She wrote my letters.

But I forgive her.

Because now I am happy.

And because you'll help me write a real letter.

I got it.

- And the dance? - I showed it to you yesterday.

Like that...

I wrote over 50 letters for her,

real ones for the most part...

...to the right address in Santa Fe.

Those two bastard sons.

Good looking boys, I remember.

They were good-for-nothings and now they've disappeared.

If she were my mother...

...I'd drown you in your own water.

Why shatter her dreams?

Why give her false hopes when they could never come true?

She could live like a queen...

...waited upon hand and foot.

At her son's home, if she wanted.

But she doesn't.

She has another son?

That one.

There's no pasture here for his cows...

but he comes anyway...

because his mother comes here when the immigrants leave.

He always follows her.

Why didn't you ever tell me that you have another son?

Drink something, you need it.

Look, I go into a cold sweat when you name him.

Why?

O, he is a good son, respectable and honest.

Then why not live with him?

I gave birth to him, but he's not my son.

Then you are mad!

Certain things are beyond your understanding.

You are still a child.

Finish it up.

What? A child?

If you don't explain, I won't write the letter.

Tie my handkerchief to that reed.

So we can wave goodbye for longer.

You weren't even in the Lord's mind

...when I began seeing dark days.

Dark things.

Have you ever heard of a certain Cunebardo?

Cunebardo?

Cunebardo, who preached liberty.

You mean, Garibaldi. - Exactly, yes!

He came and rebelled against unjust laws

...in towns and cities.

Cunebardo ordered that all prisons be opened

The good were freed, but so were the wicked.

Bloodthirsty animals,

maddened by years in chains.

He was ferocious: Comizzi

He'd kill you...for nothing.

And there was another: his helper Rocco Trupìa.

Comizzi and Trupìa took to the countryside.

Farmers who refused to follow were killed.

They dragged him away too ...my husband

I already had the two boys, who are now in America.

I saw him return two days later.

He was unrecognizable. Speechless,

...for all the evil his eyes had seen.

- Nino, are you injured? - No

Did you escape? They will kill you!

I can walk on my own.

He hid his hands, poor thing

...because of the horrors they made him commit.

After three days of hiding, he ventured out.

We were poor. We had to work.