Redbook Magazine

July 1965

A Redbook Dialogue: Barbra Streisand and Marcello Mastroianni

Photographs by William Ward

What makes a woman beautiful? Why can't some men love? An American actress who once felt like an ugly duckling exchanges banter, gossip, social comment and personal confessions in a provocative conversation with Italy's most popular actor

Streisand and Mastroianni

Barbra Streisand, who achieved her first success in a talent contest in a Greenwich Village nightclub, is now appearing as Fanny Brice in the Broadway musical “Funny Girl.” Italian actor Marcello Mastroianni has been seen by Americans in more than a dozen films, including Academy Award winning “Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow,” and “Casanova '70.”

Mr. Mastroianni was waiting with iced champagne in his hotel suite when Miss Streisand, smartly dressed in a leopard-skin suit and accompanied by her press agent, arrived. Mr. Mastroianni, who had seen Miss Streisand's show and visited her in her dressing room the night before, greeted her warmly and praised her for her performance. They were still sipping champagne and chatting in a combination of English and Italian as the photographer led them to a floodlit corner of the room, and the recording of the dialogue began.

MISS STREISAND (in halting Italian): I'm very glad that you like me.

MASTROIANNI: That I like you ? Sure!

MISS STREISAND: Because I always wanted to be an actress, not just a singer, and it was not easy for me to get work in the theater because I have an odd, strange face.

MASTROIANNI: Odd ? But you have a most beautiful face! Your face is beautiful because it is unusual, because you are made this way. It is an incredible beauty, an ancient face. [Gesticulates.] Long, like a fish.

MISS STREISAND: In this country it is considered odd because this is a country for conventionally beautiful blondes.

MASTROIANNI: But this is your luck! At the beginning your face perhaps made things more difficult, but now that you have become very popular, your face is your most important asset, because you don't look like anyone else. [In Italian, enthusiastically, to the interpreter as he indicates her face.] Do you see these contours ? And did you notice her hands—how long they are ? Like a witch!

MISS STREISAND: Well, when I was younger I always felt a little like the ugly duckling. Maybe that's why I like Italian movies so much. The faces are not so conventional. They are more interesting.

MASTROIANNI: Then you should be glad. You should be proud to have achieved such success in America, where the conventional type of face is more admired and sought after.

MISS STREISAND: It's interesting. In all the articles about me the writers start out by saying my face is— Well, maybe they say, “What an interesting face!” Or they come right out and say I'm unattractive, that they don't like the way I look. And then it's like they're saying, “But don't worry about that,” and they talk about my talent. It's as if they were saying I've made it in spite of my face.

MASTROIANNI: Why should your talent have to triumph over your looks ? It is not like that. It is both. You are one.

MISS STREISAND (continuing): They think it's a Cinderella story. Well, sometimes you watch a performer and he doesn't look right. He's mean. His soul shows, and you can't watch him. And I have often said to myself, to reassure myself, that I can't be that bad-looking if people are attracted to me. Something must be right. But for a long time it confused me terribly.

MASTROIANNI: But for me your face—it is one of the keys to your success. The talent is there, but also you are not usual, and for this reason you have success. [In Italian, to the interpreter.] Please tell her. It is also for the reason that she has this inner beauty. It springs forth from her eyes and makes her face an impressive one. What I saw in the theater last night was for me a very, very attractive woman. Put everything together and you have a woman that a man wants to push into bed.

MISS STREISAND (laughing): I got one word!

INTERPRETER: Shall I translate it for her ?

MASTROIANNI: Yes, certainly. That she is very beautiful. Look at her legs!

MISS STREISAND: But I do have a rather long nose.

MASTROIANNI: And I, on the contrary, have a short-nose complex!


MASTROIANNI: Yes. I would have wanted a nose like Dante Alighieri's, or the nose of a captain of fortune in the Middle Ages. A strong man does not have such a nose as I have. He has one that represents authority and character.

MODERATOR: Something that interests me is a statement I heard you had made about the hero today as compared to the heroes Clark Gable played, say twenty years ago. Why is modern man, the modern hero, such a different kind of person?

MASTROIANNI: Yes. I said it. Because today Clark Gable would make people laugh. I don't mean Gable himself, but the characters he portrayed. I couldn't believe in a man of sterling character—one who is all man, all of one piece, very strong in his mind about where he is going, or what to do and what not to do. The world doesn't believe any more in the roles Clark Gable played. That character does not seem real.

MISS STREISAND: In America, too, we now have a different type of man. There seems to have been a change—like with the coming of James Dean and a few of those other boys in Hollywood, like Warren Beatty.

MASTROIANNI: Yes. I see. Well, you in America may still have some strong heroes; that I don't know. But in Europe —to avoid any misunderstanding, I say that nowadays a man of the type Clark Gable and Gary Cooper played doesn't exist, and I am sorry about it. History has destroyed them.

MISS STREISAND: What are the reasons for this ? What has happened to those men?

MASTROIANNI: There are many reasons. The advancement of women, new developments in science, the disintegration of the family, the whole temporary character of life. Man used to take an interest in everyday things, but now those things elude him. He has a sense of being projected toward an uncertain future, and he can't understand that feeling. What is that future? What is it going to be? It makes our everyday life meaningless. I mean, we are not able to plan, to focus our attention sharply and thoroughly on here and now, because the present, which once seemed stable and important, now seems so transitory. You have a type of mind today that is shattered—in pieces. It has curiosity about the future but can predict nothing. It can predict nothing, therefore there is fear. It may be because of the war, but there have been so many wars before without changing the wholeness of man, so something new has happened recently, in the last twenty or twenty-five years. Perhaps it is the conquest of space and the splitting of the atom. [Smiles] Oh, and Coca-Cola. It's all the fault of Coca-Cola. The real fault is that we are all of us drinking Coca-Cola instead of wine.

[Miss Streisand laughs.]

Moderator (to Miss Streisand): You mentioned, I think as a parallel, that from the time Jimmy Dean appeared we too in America have had a different hero.

Miss Streisand: Yes. He wasn't the great American strong man any more. He was a weak man. He was afraid. He was the man who needed a strong woman. All of a sudden the roles got reversed, somehow. He was almost a feminine man. [To Mastroianni.] But the reason, I think, that you are such a famous big movie star is because you still have strength—like the old Clark Gable hero.

MASTROIANNI: Do you believe that? Would you say that after my film 8 too?

Miss Streisand: I'm not talking about the roles you play. I mean you, just you. I'm looking at your face, at your quality.

MASTROIANNI: There may be some truth in what you say. You are young, twenty-three years old. I am older. I live with one foot in the previous generation. To the extent that this is true, it may seem to you that I have some strength. But at the same time this is compromised, so you could perhaps say that I am a sub-type Clark Gable or Gary Cooper, without myself, you understand, believing in any of it. One is neither fowl nor fish. That's where the uneasiness comes in.

Moderator: I think in a sense that's where the attractiveness comes in, too, because we all know this uneasiness, this uncertainty. I wonder if that would account for the popularity of certain actors and certain roles?

MASTROIANNI: Yes, I believe so. But certainly! Audiences recognize themselves. I believe these characters reflect a certain desperation, a certain despair, which we all feel. It was like that with my role in 8 1/2. Afterward every man I talked to told me he recognized himself and some of his own difficulties. And in 8, remember, I played a very indecisive character, a man incapable of action, a man who really didn't care deeply about anything.

Moderator: I have read somewhere that you consider yourself a very lazy man. Is that true?

MASTROIANNI: Yes, lazy; very lazy. But for me laziness is a defense. It is meaningless to fight for things we do not believe in, or to try to convince others of the things we do believe in. Isn't that so?

Moderator: Is there something you would fight for?

MASTROIANNI: One thing. For one cause. I would fight only for the right of each man to be himself. This is the only battle I would enter in—to obtain a sort of peace among people so that they would not fight each other to impose their own ideas. [There is a brief silence. Then, to Miss Streisand.] Tell me, Barbra, do you like to sing?

Miss Streisand: Yes. I do. I wish I could also sing in Italian. The language is so beautiful.

MASTROIANNI: Extraordinary! Perhaps because you are a singer you prefer Italian. And yet all the Italian singers of popular music nowadays sing as if they were Americans. Even the names they choose, allow me to say, are American names. It's “Jack” or “Jim” and so on, with an Italian surname. And they move their lips as if they were singing in English.

Miss Streisand: That's a shame. [She sings a phrase in Italian.] The Italian music I love is Puccini.

MASTROIANNI: Yes. There I agree with you. But the opera is something different. Yes, in my opinion it's better to sing opera in Italian.

Miss Streisand: In English, when a person yells it makes a terrible sound. It is difficult in English to make loud and beautiful sounds at once.

MASTROIANNI: Perhaps because English words are chopped off. [To the interpreter.] Yes. She's right. One cannot open well the mouth——

Miss Streisand (continuing): I mean when one yells, even in speech, it's terrible in English. That's why the Italian movies are so great. Because when you have an argument in Italian it's beautiful to hear. The sounds are so beautiful. [Leans toward him theatrically.] Yell at me more!

MASTROIANNI (smiling): It's the usual story. On the other side of the fence the grass is greener. And I like English; it is very interesting. For me it's a mysterious sound; therefore it stimulates my curiosity. [He meows.]

Miss Streisand: Yes. We're nasal.

MASTROIANNI: The sound comes from a different part of the head. This is particularly so in New York. No? From the nose.

Miss Streisand: Yes.

Moderator: I would like to know something about your backgrounds. [To Miss Streisand.] How did you get your start?

Miss Streisand (humorously): I was born!

[Both laugh.]

Miss Streisand (continuing): I have a brother who is older, eight years older than I am, and I have a younger sister. My father died when I was young. Seven years later my mother remarried.

Moderator: Did you always know you wanted to be an actress?

Miss Streisand: Yes, I did. [To Mastroianni.] And you?

MASTROIANNI: Even as a boy, a very young boy, I thought of becoming an actor. I was acting in parish plays, then in school, and later in plays at the university. When I was older, though, I thought acting was only a hobby, so I thought I would become an engineer.

Moderator: I read somewhere that your father was a carpenter.

MASTROIANNI: This is a thing that greatly annoys my mother, who always says, “No, he was a cabinetmaker, a craftsman.” There is a difference, she says, between a carpenter and a proper artisan.

Miss Streisand: My father was a teacher. After he died, my mother worked as a bookkeeper. When I got out of high school I moved away from home in Brooklyn to Manhattan. I worked as a switchboard operator and dreamed about being an actress. My mother never wanted me to be in the theater. She always said, “Oh no, you'd never make it. You are too skinny.”

Mastroianni talks to Streisand

MASTROIANNI: But this is crazy!

Miss Streisand (continuing): She always said, “You are too skinny; you must eat raw eggs.” [Pauses.] Today I would like to be fatter. It seems to me I used to be and have lost weight, maybe because of my work. My mother——

MASTROIANNI: My mother was just the opposite. She was delighted I wanted to be an actor. To her it was very exciting because of this overflowing, this almost sinful, love that Italian mothers pour over their children. She was very excited at the idea of her own son being admired and cherished by crowds of people. And I was the one who was always complaining that my legs were thin. In fact [shows a lean calf], they are still very thin. But my mother used to say, “What do you have to complain about with your legs? Mother made you such a pretty behind! Do you think fat legs are nice?”

Miss Streisand: Is your mother happy now?

MASTROIANNI: Not really. So-so. Because for Italian mothers, particularly the ones of poor origin, when all is said, it's the good, solid profession that is the ideal. No, in the end my mother would have preferred my being in a good, solid profession and having a calm, stable life.

Miss Streisand: Italian and Jewish families have a great deal in common. They are very close, fathers, mothers and children.

MASTROIANNI: But let us pick up where we left off. So your mother was telling you you were too skinny and making you eat eggs——

Miss Streisand (laughing): And I hate eggs! So I left home.

MASTROIANNI: Was it difficult—to leave home?

Miss Streisand (with humor and brevity): No.

MASTROIANNI: Where did you live?

Miss Streisand: I went to live in an apartment right next to the acting school where I had a scholarship, but I didn't go to class very regularly. I got tired of seeing people misinterpret things. It was boring. And I made rounds. I made rounds because everybody told me to make them, but I only did that for two days. I knocked on doors and I told people to give me jobs, and they wouldn't. They wouldn't even send me out to try for parts. I'd say, “Give me a chance.” The people would say, “Well, we can't give you a chance because we've never seen you work.” And I'd say, “Well, how can you see me work if you don't give me a chance?” And they'd say, “Well, I'm sorry.” You know, they have a strange obsession for power, these people who are in a position to give or withhold what you want, and I resented it so———

MASTROIANNI: It's the same story the world over.

Miss Streisand (continuing): So I said, “The devil with you! I'll make you all come to me. I'll never come and wait or knock on your door again.” And I didn't.

Moderator: And how did you make them come to you?

Miss Streisand: Well, I couldn't get any work in the theater, so I learned a couple of songs and I entered a talent contest. It was in a little nightclub in Greenwich Village, and I sang them and I won. And then I went to work at another, the Bon Soir, because they would give me free meals at night, along with my salary of fifty dollars a week. [To Mastroianni.] And you? How did you start?

MASTROIANNI: As you say, “I was born!” The most important event in life is the christening. And the First Communion is the first act of hypocrisy. It is really a great show of acting, to succeed in convincing oneself that one is holy, and especially that one is so very important. And I went to school, and I grew up. And yes, during the war, it is true, I worked for the Germans as a draftsman of maps. It was 1943 when I was drafted. Italy, as you know, was officially on the side of Germany, but it was a country divided in two. And instead of military service I found myself this job as a draftsman. It was something of a joke, though, because later we were working on maps for the defense of Sicily when the Americans were already in Florence. But here I must explain, I ran away from the Germans. I did this because there was danger of ending up in Germany together with the entire Military Geographic Institute. So I ran away with a friend, a painter, and we wandered around Italy for about ten months. Italy was still divided in two, you understand, and at that time I too became a painter, just to earn my daily bread. Then when the war was over I went back to Rome, and I got a job as an accountant with an English motion picture company, Eagle-Lion Films. And during this same period I was engaged in amateur acting at the university theater, and then I became a professional. The first play I did as a professional actor was an American play by Tennessee Williams, A Streetcar Named Desire.

Miss Streisand: Did you play Stanley Kowalski?

MASTROIANNI: I played both roles. One year I played Mitch; the next I played Stanley Kowalski.

Miss Streisand: And then suddenly you were a matinee idol?

MASTROIANNI: Not so suddenly. It was ten years before I could reach that. For ten years I alternated between the theater and the movies. I played in B pictures until La Dolce Vita. That was my first big film. It was also a film about directionless, indecisive people—people who live in a dream world.

Moderator: How about you, Miss Streisand? Do you live in a dream world?

Miss Streisand: In a way. I used to dream. I used to have fantasies about being an actress, about love, things like that. Like everyone else, I guess.

Moderator: And how does the present reality measure up to what you dreamed of?

Miss Streisand: It doesn't come close! It hasn't come anywhere near it! [Hesitantly.] Because the dream is what art is, you know. The dream—you never achieve it. Reality is never what the dream has been, and it shouldn't be, actually, but that's what's depressing about it, too. That is, you know, the excitement lies in the hope, in striving for something. But in actually playing a role, it's different every night! It's different from moment to moment! If I catch the truth of one moment, I might miss the next. The whole thing is trying to get the most out of every moment.

MASTROIANNI: This is a difficult thing to describe.

Miss Streisand: Yes, it is. Because also you have to take into account the night— what you've eaten for dinner, how the air smells, how you feel. What you do has something to do with everything. I mean, it's so organic. One thing I think about now is movies. I haven't had that experience yet. The idea of making movies scares me. I mean, when you're working in them there is seemingly no continuity.

MASTROIANNI: That is true. The movies are the Kingdom of Confusion! The first few times one experiences this discontinuity it is very disturbing; you do not really understand, because the script is broken up into scenes or little bits of action, and all scenes in the story that take place on a certain set are shot at once, regardless of where they come into the film. But you will work in movies. And you will see how fascinated you will become by just these complete irrationalities. In a sense this disconnectedness, these contradictions, are just what bring freshness to the interpretations of the actor. I mean, one relaxes the mind, stops trying to figure “Now I'll do this.” Even the actor's mistakes can become significant, because they give life, reality, to the character. It is just the same in life. One cannot always be ready with the right expression on one's face. Many times one finds himself with a completely silly expression. One thing I must tell you immediately, love scenes are boring.

Miss Streisand: Boring?

MASTROIANNI: Yes. Because first of all, a love scene, when it isn't real, is always ridiculous. Isn't that so? And then we have the postures! Those are always absurd because we have to take into consideration the problems of the director— where the camera is trained. Then the kiss always ends on the woman, and this too is absurd. Everything is premeditated. I'm talking especially about the close-ups, where one always ends up in a completely unnatural position because one must make sure that what the director wants inside the frame of the picture will be there and what he wants left out will be outside the frame of the picture. Just imagine that the love scene is shot from the back. [Rising, stands in an awkward position.] How many times one is in this ridiculous posture because the camera cuts the picture here [indicating] and there you are, with your behind up in the air!

[Miss Streisand laughs and applauds.]

MASTROIANNI: Yes. You're right about this much—this artificiality is not for someone like you, with your qualities of freshness and simplicity and that authentic capacity for passion. There is no simplicity or spontaneity in the filming of love scenes. It is all ludicrous. They make us laugh. Maybe the love scenes of Greta Garbo—maybe those were beautiful, but not those played by us.

Moderator: Have you met Greta Garbo?

MASTROIANNI: In New York. Yes. She is much nicer than I thought she was when I was a boy. When I was a boy I did not like Greta Garbo. I thought her inhuman. But she is charming, witty, very nice. She asked me if the shoes I was wearing were Italian-made. I said yes, but they weren't. What could she possibly say to me? What interest could she have in me? I couldn't have meant anything to her, and yet she tried, just the same, to be kind—really, to make conversation.

Moderator: Do you believe in love?

MASTROIANNI: No, I do not. I do not mean that I don't believe in love. I don't believe in myself in love. Therefore I know that love cannot solve my problems. Because I am incapable of loving deeply. But to others love is very important.

Miss Streisand (in Italian): Why?

MASTROIANNI: I have always known this about myself; I am reconciled to it.

Miss Streisand: You are resigned?


Moderator: Is this a question of love itself, or of various other ideals that people believe in, or try to?

MASTROIANNI: But no! No! Love in itself is a very important basic thing in the life of a person. It encompasses everything. I mean by this that feeling which enables one to face everything calmly, without fear, because if he can love, he has within himself such a wealth, such a support, that he can go straight to his goals; and this comes from loving. Do you understand what I mean? Part of this is the capacity to give oneself completely to another, and therefore to other things. Love helps in many respects.

Moderator: It's amazing that a man who is such a great success should talk like such a failure. Do you think of yourself as a failure, by any chance?

MASTROIANNI: But it is not that I have not succeeded! And if I have been successful, could it not be that I am so much aware of this fault of mine, that it could also be a motive of despair for me? And that perhaps people, other people, in some way feel this too, and because of that, love me? Could it not be so?

Moderator: Did you always feel this about yourself? That you couldn't love?

MASTROIANNI: I found out in the course of my life. When one is a boy one does not understand exactly his own feelings. But through the years, because of some of the events in my life, I have come to understand that while others were giving me everything, I was unable to do the same. This means that for me love has limits. But I admire enormously those who can love fully, because one who loves has found the solution to the whole of his life; there is no question about that.

Moderator (to Miss Streisand): And you? Do you feel that you are one of the lucky ones who can give and take completely in love and in work?

Miss Streisand (hesitantly): It's a very difficult question. I don't have enough experience. As he says, he has found out through the years. Now I have many doubts about my own capacities too, but I'm just finding out. I am just going through the process of discovering— But I think this is an interesting question for someone who is in creative work. Because I think that for someone like that there's a distortion somewhere. And that distortion, I think, lies in the kind of dreams you have and how the reality compares. Maybe Marcello's dreams are too high. Maybe they could never be real.

Moderator: Do you think these problems are confined to the creative person?

Miss Streisand: I think this is more or less true of people in general. But I must say that in a creative person there is a distortion of ego. The ego is out of bounds. And I think there are—I don't mean this in a bad way—but I think there are two kinds of egomaniacs, you know. One is an overt egomaniac who just thinks about and talks about himself; he's the obvious one. And there are others who seem to go the opposite way, but they have terrible insecurities too; they're just not so outspoken. But they have trouble really getting involved with somebody else too, because the whole self, the ego, is concentrated on their own persons and that's hard to get out of, and you can't be like this and still be able to give to somebody else.

Moderator: Do you think this is peculiar to people in the theater?

Miss Streisand: Yes, definitely. I would say definitely actors, more or less, because even a writer can write at home. I mean, his art is translated into a tangible thing, to paper, and people can read it, and no matter how he feels or what becomes of him, something he has written twenty years ago is still there to read for what it is. But an actor is only himself, and he has only himself—it's only his flesh and blood—in the moment that he is performing. Nothing he does can ever be captured again, except on film—which is great, by the way. I mean, it's a very complicated way of life to be an actor.

MASTROIANNI: Brava! It is true. Certainly. And an actor, in general, is a person who is immature, a childlike individual who is incapable of focusing his attention or to look at a thing and give it the right weight and value. He lives in a make- believe world, just as a child does.

Moderator: Is it difficult to distinguish between yourself and a role you are playing?

MASTROIANNI: No, that is not difficult. On the contrary. Instead, it's very simple. In fact, I believe that an actor, as soon as he discovers a character with traits different from his own, acknowledges the facts and gets hold of those other traits immediately, because with those he completes himself. Do you understand?

Moderator: Then he does project, takes on the characteristics of another?

MASTROIANNI: Certainly. For he is disponibilita. He has this quality that enables him to drift, to be open to whims, to his senses. Because he is uncommitted, unencumbered by old-fashioned traditions; he is unrooted.

Moderator: Yes. But my impression is that the role you, Mr. Mastroianni, played in La Dolce Vita is really the way you see yourself—as pretty much the same man. Or am I wrong?

MASTROIANNI: That is so. And I found in this type, this character in 8 even more interesting. Because in 8 1/2 it is more clear, his disponibilita—his inability to be a whole, integrated man in the most healthy, virile sense.

Moderator: I heard once that you described yourself as "not hard, violent, a lion" but as "inconstant, distracted, a house cat." Did you say this?

MASTROIANNI: That is probably correct. I believe I did. It is not a source of satisfaction to be like this. When one is like this, one is capricious, distracted by anything. Now, Barbra is not like this. One can see that she's healthier. One can feel it, I think. Such a joy springs forth from her personality. Yesterday evening, when I watched her in the theater, she was so full of joy in everything she did, she seemed to feel so deeply, one knew she is alive—alive inside. [To Miss Streisand.] I would like to know what you think of yourself in this respect.

Miss Streisand: Well, I was feeling good last night because I knew you were out there in the audience, so I had a new sense of discovery about things. You see, I've played that role for over a year now, so it is usually harder to keep rediscovering it. Oh, I'm a mixture of two things. Like I'm constantly depressed at my lack of knowledge, things that I want to know so badly and don't. So I read ten books at a time and never finish one, because I want to know so much. Then I get depressed by my ignorance and don't read at all. But see, again I come back to the only things I do seem to know—things like smells or tastes or something I can touch.

MASTROIANNI: Then you are yourself, but also like me. You are in this pleasure of the senses. I too feel I can know best those things which my senses bring to my attention, but I do not focus my attention on other things. I do not mean that I compromise. That is a different thing. But I am one of those who live for the things they feel at every instant, as animals do. And when I talk about my incapacity to love, that is because too many things can move me. I can love a particular woman for something about her—I don't know what—that excites me; then another comes along and I like that one too. Then I can tire of both of them because I am stimulated by the smell of something I like. It may be food—anything that I want at the moment. Do you understand? Any moment can bring something different, new . . .

Miss Streisand: Yes.

MASTROIANNI (continuing): So you see, it is the senses that are in control, when one should be able to say: This is what I love, nothing else.

Miss Streisand: Well, let me tell you that of all the films you've made, the one I loved best was Marriage, Italian Style. I loved the beauty of the happy ending. Through their love and through the trials they had lived through—getting angry, being apart and then coming together again, they made their life together a success. This was so beautiful. I really loved that, see?

MASTROIANNI: But certainly. You would like that one. Because in this film this man and this woman know how to love one another. They wound each other, but in the end they love each other. Today, instead, nobody wounds anybody, because one gives up the fight. But we have had such a serious discussion, while I thought we were going to be very gay and frivolous. Tell me, what kind of dinner are we going to have? Have you decided on the menu?

Miss Streisand (in Italian): I have prepared to offer you a typical American dinner.

MASTROIANNI: In that case, I am coming. Yes, I'm coming.

Miss Streisand: Roast beef and potatoes!


Miss Streisand: And pies!


Miss Streisand: My only concession, I'll give you Italian cheese, and fruit. And Italian wine.

MASTROIANNI: Good. So it's settled. I will come with my friends to your dressing room after the show.


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