- published: 23 Jun 2010
- views: 21466
Il Mostro (The Monster) is a 1994 Italian comedy film. It starred Roberto Benigni as a man who is mistaken by police profilers for a serial killer due to a misunderstanding of the man's strange behavior. This film was, at the time it came out, the highest-grossing film in Italy, bested later by another Benigni film, Life is Beautiful.
Loris (Roberto Benigni) is a part-time mannequin handler for a department store. He hopes to learn Chinese in order to get an assistant manager position. He lives in a building where he hasn't paid the rent in months, and he also owes money to other people around town.
At a party, Loris is told about a nymphomaniac who will sleep with anyone. Loris approaches the wrong woman, who runs away and tells the police. Because of his odd behavior, Loris becomes the chief suspect in a series of rape/murders. The chief of police, frustrated by the lack of solid evidence against Loris, resolves to provoke Loris's passion and catch him "red-handed." An attractive police officer, Jessica (Nicoletta Braschi) goes undercover as his roommate, and is directed by the police chief and the police doctor, Paride, to dress provocatively in order to entrap Loris.
Now there's no one left to vote for
And there's very rarely been
No more voices of the people
G (F#) Em
Who are not of the machine
And the giant public monster
Gathering summer's silent scream
Swearing blind he's not been seen
Hiding bones that everyone sees
[Chorus]:
And everybody knows
That everybody goes
G (F#) Em D
In - Sa - ne
The revolution's always over
The apocalypse is now
All hands are on the keyboard
Hardly any on the plough
The new government's the old one
Same old handbags at the helm
Lapsing back into religion
Letting voices overwhelm
[Chorus]
It got crazy on the frontline
Manning barricades to wait
On the motherboards of freedom
For the hordes of solid state
Long before the menu
Was having problems with the date
And the mice became the men
Far too late
[Chorus]
Now my church is in the dungeon
Down the fourteenth corridor
Virtual guards surround me
With electronic walls
We're at the level of playstation
Where the rich become the poor
On their bended knees they're praying
For more, so much more . .
[Chorus]
No there's no one left to vote for
Only fools to vote against
The refugees have all surrended
The perimeter's been fenced
Six billion dreamers are all banged up
By the screment of dough
And the new religion
of the W.T.O
[Chorus]
I have given up the memory
Of my years of dreaming on
To be as silent as I'm angry
About this trip through babylon
I feel the building of the final
Psyche of the snake
Make a killig every lunchtime
Sleep it off until I wake