Europe by Night  

From The Art and Popular Culture Encyclopedia

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Europa di notte (1959, Nuits d'Europe/Europe by Night) is an Italian film directed by Alessandro Blasetti and written by Ennio de Concini and Gualtiero Jacopetti.

This documentary in the "sexy" "mondo" genre is a potpourri of contemporary nightclub, showbiz and striptease acts recorded all over Europe, including Place Pigalle and the Crazy Horse in Paris and Corral de la Morería in Madrid.

Stripteaseuses Dolly Bell (the readhead), Lady Phu-qui-cho (Asian lady) and Lily Niagara (black hair).

There is the belly dancer and Carmen Sevilla dances the flamenco.

The soundtrack of the film featured "Dans mon île" by French singer Henri Salvador. He also performs "Hungarian Dance No. 5" by Brahms.

Scenes of the film are also featured in Do You Remember Dolly Bell?, the first feature film directed by Emir Kusturica.

Colin Hicks & The Cabin Boys appeared in the film with several songs.

Cast

Selection

• Rastelli
• Rockett Girls
• Robert Lamouret
• Domenico Modugno
• Carmen Sevilla
• Alba Arnova
• Armando Calvo
• Raffaella Carrà
• Eddie Gray
• The Platters
• Henri Salvador
• Gustavo Rojo
• Coccinelle performing at the Le Carrousel de Paris
• Louis Ducreux : narrateur (version française)
• Henry Morgan : narrateur (version anglaise)

Full

Corrado Mantoni(Spanish narrator); Carmen Sevilla; Domenico Modugno; Henri Salvador; The Platters; Channing Pollock (the magician); Colin Hicks; Les Clowns Rastelli (clowns); The Tongas (acrobats); Le Charley Ballet; Dolly Bell (strip-tease performer in the Crazy Horse Saloon); Lady Phu-Qui(strip-tease performer in the Crazy Horse Saloon); Lilly Niagara (strip-tease performer in the Crazy Horse Saloon); Marino et Billy Beck (the "Croq Monsieurs" of the Crazy Horse Saloon); Coccinelle (le transformiste du Carrousel?); Alba Arnova; Princesse Badia (belly dancer); Roland d' Avell (Belgian musician); Archie Savage Dancers; Graziella Granata; Sergio Parlato; Gustavo Rojo; Tiberio Murgia; Raffaella Pelloni; Armando Calvo; Mac Ronay; Les Condoras (trapeze); Les Ballets Berioska; Stanley Watson; The Three Monarchs; Eddie Gray; The Happy Wanderers

Subtitles

London? Paris? Berlin? Moscow? Bah! You pick: One name's as good as another.

Don't take offence if already at the start of our journey,

we meet a Seine which flows into the Thames,

before joining the Tiber at the corner of a Madrid square.

Besides, the idea of uniting the states of Europe,

which the politicians believe they thought of first,

was already inside us when on school desks,

we were convinced that Zurich was the capital of Belgium

and Warsaw of England.

We were already trying to mix,

despite the strict watch of our teachers,

all of the peoples of Europe.

Just one capital, one name,

instead of the many learned by rote.

Here is a dream which is realized every night,

when day-to-day reality sleeps

and imagination wakes instead.

As soon as the lights turn on,

at Madrid as in Paris,

at Berlin as in Rome,

sleep falls upon, in all the squares of Europe,

the marble heroes of thought,

who in the name of brotherhood between peoples

invent borders, passports,

custom taxes and tariffs.

They need to have a good sleep in order to wake up tomorrow

to think up new hassles for humanity.

Accompanied by a warm good night by the European motorists,

the heroes of "No parking!" and "Do not enter!",

descend from a mountain of fines.

For the world of revolts, revolutions, cold and hot wars,

the hour of curfew has rang.

With the first shadow of night,

come the passing heroes of the night.

Heroes without monuments, because instead of making life harder,

they seek to make it easier.

These are The Happy Wanderers.

When they arrive, even London seems to be

permeated with a whiff of Neapolitan pizza.

Happiness has no country.

"Early to bed and early to rise,

makes a man healthy and wise."

Indeed, going to bed by 8 in the morning, at 10 at night,

these bold young people are already up fresh as a rose.

A restless generation:

They consider the TV as a valid reason

to get out of the house before the evening programs begin.

RAI: Italian TV.

Ladies and gentlemen, good evening.

Fresh from his American success,

here with some of his famous interpretations:

Domenico Modugno!

Milk is good, hot chocolate sweet,

and chamomile is healthy too.

Orgeat syrup refreshes and wine makes you happy,

and only water can quench your thirst.

Yes, a million people from Naples, like me,

will have none of it,

and they live on coffee!

Coffee is so good which only Naples knows how to make

and nobody can explain why, it's a real speciality!

In this city, you can smell such a scent of coffee

and an irritable person like me, now and then goes get some.

As soon as a baby is born he says, "Get me coffee!"

An Englishman will forget his tea if he gets to know what an espresso is.

Coffee is so good which only Naples knows how to make

This way we can explain why here, all day long,

cup upon cup, they buy, heat up, and drink coffee.

Coffee is so good!

While waiting for the applause to convince Modugno to do an encore,

let's jump over to Brussels,

where Belgian TV gives welcome to the little Rolland D'Avell,

a giant of the xylophone.

You're the most beautiful,

your name is Lil?,

dishevelled like that,

I like you more.

Oh no, dear,

don't you change too, lovely.

Don't cut your hair.

Don't wear more makeup, love.

But you, sweet,

you have decided so, mine,

to wear red,

to call yourself Gigi. Gigi?

Living like this,

between boutiques and coffee,

you eat roast beef

and only drink milkshakes.

Why?

Oh, no, dear,

stay the way you are, mine,

with a clean face,

with your name Lil?.

You're the most beautiful,

dishevelled like that,

how beautiful is Lil?.

And damn it, Lil?!

As a little while ago in Brussels, a child amused the grown ups,

here in Paris, a grown up will amuse the children.

Lamouret and his 'Lil Duck!

He gets here and starts talking.

I'm the one who talks. Daddy talks, got it?

Yes. - Good. He understood. He did.

He quite understands. He's so intelligent.

No, I don't want any kisses from a hypocrite! I don't!

No, no! I don't want any.

Because everytime you kiss me and gimme one of your pecks?

I'm here! I'm here!

It's so difficult nowadays to travel with animals.

What are you looking for? Did you lose something?

You lost something? What's the matter now?

It's so? Oh, well, I'll continue my act. Because?

Where's your little eye? - I lost it.

He lost his eye! Where did his little eye go?

If I lost an eye, I would know! - Really?

Where could he have put that eye now?

The eye! Ah, the eye! Poof, went the eye!

I don't see it. Where did you put that eye?

He had two eyes! - Two eyes!

He came here with two eyes! Ah, there it is! I got it now!

Is that it? - I recognize it.

Upsy-daisy. It was no big deal.

Now then, I?

Here I am!

Oh, I'm so sorry, excuse me. There we go.

Well, now I'm going to give you a little impression. Finally!

A young lady and a young man on a train.

Really? - And you're going to play

the young lady. - Oh, no!

"I am a boy duck," yells the 'Lil Duck.

"And I don't want the dirl luck's gace!"

"I mean the girl duck's lace."

"Drat those girl ducks."

Now, you blow into the microphone, understand?

Yes. - Good. He understood.

In Milan, the Sports Arena.

The great dynasty of the Groc and Fratellini Brothers continues

with these illustrious contemporaries:

the Rastelli Clowns.

Today, I'll sing in allegretto.

Years and generations pass,

but clowns continue to be adored by the multitude,

notwithstanding the hard kick launched at their class by Leoncavallo.

Les toits de Paris. The roofs of Paris.

On the way of this bizarre itinerary beneath European skies,

are the blades of Moulin Rouge.

And here's the Lido. Are we stopping here?

No, we've already seen it in Cinerama.

Let's go instead to La Nouvelle Eve,

where the Charley Ballet draws the best international audiences.

There's also Alba Arnova with Henry Salvador.

She had put on her pink dress,

Rose, Rose.

All the passers-by passing by

turned their heads towards her.

It was only a pink dream,

Rose, Rose.

She put on every night

before her mirror.

Her dream, one day in May,

became reality,

a dress for a gala,

a Sunday ball,

Rose flies away?

She had put on her pink dress,

Rose, Rose.

And among all boys

who danced at the Robinson,

Pierrot said so many things,

quite rosy, rosy,

that in the evening of that fine day,

Rose found love.

They quickly did go

to see the parish priest,

but Rose on that day

had on a white dress,

a bouquet of lilacs?

And she kept her pink dress,

Rose, Rose.

And she put in on every year,

on the first day of spring.

Pierrot gave her a rose,

a rose, a rose.

And both of them went away

to dance at the Robinson.

Identical like drops of water,

these 24 legs belong to the 12 girls of Charley Ballet,

a famous English breed.

Every night, perfect like a stopwatch,

the delicious mechanism starts and goes to work.

If a part fails?

Immediately, a plane from London brings a replacement

and they're all in step again, like before.

Do you want to see up close, some recent replacement parts?

There they are. May I?

Barbara, Maureen, Patricia, Lexie, Ann.

Ah, there's Jill:

exact lookalike of Bette Davis from a few?

months ago.

An absolute success every night.

But a success with a terribly high cost:

Three shows in a row,

day after day, year after year.

It would be impossible to invite them to the movies.

Their only vacation day after 364 days of work is Holy Friday.

But right on that day, you see,

the movie theaters are closed.

And now a brief musical intermission,

a solo with Henry Salvador

accompanied by the orchestra.

The lovely Princess Badia

offers us the best that can be found in Europe

when it comes to belly dancing.

This ancient Oriental dance, as everybody knows,

was invented by an odalisque who, having drunk a medicine,

too late realized she had to shake well before using.

A now a quick zig-zag to the nights in London

among the conjurers, jugglers and tightrope walkers.

Everything is included in the price of a ticket.

Fine, let's start with him:

Watson the Magician.

They are The Monarchs,

specialists in harmonica of worldwide fame.

At first, the harmonicas were all small

like the one swallowed by the player with the goatee

but they were getting consumed every night.

And here's Watson again, capable of doing miracles.

One of these nights, he'll attempt to straighten a lady's legs.

And these are the Grays,

jugglers of the English school.

Eight long hours of daily training

except for a few fast breaks to blow one's nose,

those clubs must've had them pulling out their hair,

since they're slightly bald,

but hair today gone tomorrow.

I will now do the impossible!

Even in the plates of Chu Fu, Chinese jugglers,

it's always the same soup.

Life is hard for the heroes of the night, eh?

1000s of broken plates, dozens of harmonicas swallowed,

100s of clubs on the head and 20 years of hard work

to raise from us a smile.

Has a dentist or a lawyer worked harder perhaps

to raise from us a tear?

Ladies and gentlemen,

warm hearts, muscles of steel,

nerves of nylon,

and above all, a dazzling white smile!

The Two Swiss Tongas!

Rivals of the birds of prey,

of whom they take their name, the condors,

here they are the flying Germans,

the Condoras!

A powerful astral leap,

the younger brother enters the orbit

around his older brother.

Even more than condors,

are the more daring Condoras.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the leap to the death with eyes blindfolded.

More than one tragic end has been recorded here.

From the Togni Circus to Piccadilly Circus.

We're again in London with Colin Hicks and The Boys,

kings of European rock 'n' roll.

Was it from someone from above? So I wonder, wonder, wonder who?

who wrote the book of love?

Oh, baby, baby, baby, I love you, you know I do.

It said so in this book of love, I wonder why it's true.

So I wonder, wonder, wonder who?

who wrote the book of love?

Chapter one says love her, love her with all your heart.

Chapter two you tell her you're never, never, gonna part.

In chapter three remember the meaning of romance.

In chapter four you break up but you give her just one more chance.

Oh, I wonder, wonder, wonder who?

who wrote the book of love?

Oh, baby, baby, baby, I love you, you know I do.

It said so in this book of love, I wonder why it's true.

Oh, I wonder, wonder, wonder who?

who wrote the book of love?

Who wrote the book of love?

This is Vienna, the last border of the West.

Lend your ears to the Iron Curtain

and listen to this rock 'n' roll, Russian style.

Oh, you pretty, engaged girl,

why are you walking around so saddened?

"Oh, I walk, walk around so saddened

Because I'll not be wedded with you."

Skill, harmony, discipline,

and above all, a rigid observance of the hard laws of Terpsichore.

More or less, this is what makes up a white Russian,

as well as a red variety show.

And here we are again at La Nouvelle Eve in Paris.

Just in time for the finale of the Revue.

These are the splendid girls of the famous "Ballet in White."

Because of whom, many tourist have become broke.

Don't confuse them with those already seen in the "Ballet in Red",

for whom just as many tourists run to the bank every evening.

This girl in the black stockings sells cigars

and this young man is a tourist who doesn't smoke.

Oh, good!

A photo, ladies and gentlemen?

Thank you.

Only?

You recognize the holler?

Of course. It's "Only You"

which the Platters tried to frame as a holler of pain,

but which instead comes out as a holler of joy.

No wonder! To this day,

it's a holler worth 25 million dollars.

You'll never know!

You'll never, never know I care.

You'll never know the torch I bear,

You'll never know it, for I won't show it.

Oh, no, you'll never, never know.

You'll never know!

You'll never, never see me cry.

Not even when you're glancing by.

For I won't weaken, when we're speaking.

Oh, no, you'll never, never know.

You know the used to me

that I was before.

You'll see the used to be

that one you did adore.

You'll never know!

No, no I know I won't reveal

the way I really truly feel.

But if you guess it, I'll confess it.

Oh, darling now's the time to plot

or else you'll never, never know.

You know the used to me

that I was before.

You'll see the used to be

that one you did adore.

You'll never know!

No, no I know I won't reveal

the way I really truly feel.

But if you guess it, I'll confess it.

Oh, darling now's the time to plot

or else you'll never, no, no, you'll never

Oh, no you'll never,

ever know.

You'll never know!

Hear that applause?

Thanks also to the moral support of the girl

who never stopped smiling.

My dream

is a wondrous dream.

It's the answer too,

wanting only you.

My dream

is a true delight.

My escape at night

from a world that's blue.

The world we know

seems so far away

and where we go

is for us to say.

My dream

is a wealth of joy

no one can destroy

when I dream my dream.

It's no common dream.

It's a wondrous dream.

Dream.

Sunset is now far away but luckily, so is the sunrise.

There are still many hours left to spend in good company.

She wanted to see the young, fascinating illusionist

all the city is talking about. He didn't think it was real.

Night owls are ready for anything to avoid going to bed.

Londoners are right:

Channing Pollock

is perhaps the most fascinating magician in the world.

Watch.

He drives his game with the bravado of a mage.

You can't catch him in the act, not even in slow motion.

Can you imagine him at a poker table?

But that's nothing.

Just look at what this guy can do.

They say he comes from America but

there are those who say he comes from hell.

However, his name is Mac Ronay,

diabolical magician with the enchanted hands

and the gaze of an eagle.

Now observe well, by dint of some spell,

how he grasps from nothing

the mysterious objects of his magic.

But even the all powerful Mac Ronay has his Achilles's heel:

his memory.

Place Pigalle, the last number of the Archie Savage Dancers.

Who? Me?

It's 3 at night.

It's very late or very early, depending on your point of view.

However, when this hour arrives, on the edge of night and day,

it seems that music and dancers begin to start chasing time.

Beaver hats and bearskin coats,

moonlight chants on motorboat.

Boop Oop A Doop! Boop Oop A Doop! 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8!

Ah, mess around!

Chapel bells, the wishing wells,

how about some coquetry?

Happy bottom, thrill twister, you got it, yay, sister!

Clap your hands and do that rowdy stomp!

In the nights of Paris, temptations jet light

like mirages in the desert under the moon.

Sadly, drinking at these fonts isn't in everybody's budget.

These 2 kids for example,

don't have any ticket than a record and some imagination.

In my island,

what heavenly birds.

In my island,

we never do anything.

We bask in the sun who caresses us.

And we are lazy,

without thinking about tomorrow.

In my island,

a scent of love

sneaks up

by the end of the day.

She comes running, holding out her pliant arms,

soft and fragile,

in her finest attire.

Her eyes are shining,

and her brown hair

scatters

on the fine sand.

And we play the game of Adam and Eve.

An easy game,

that they taught us.

Because my island is paradise.

Look at them, they seem to be Italians.

Shining here and there are the signs of the strip-tease,

where the brave vestals of sex-appeal,

expose themselves fearlessly to colds.

Let's enter then. Those under 16 stay outside.

To think they could find interesting material

not so much on the stage,

but in the audience.

Where one becomes naked without untying a tie knot.

And here is the rose flower, the serpentine, voluptuous,

here is Dolly Bell!

Naturally, we don't expect you to take both eyes off the stage,

but try to divert one of them now and then to the audience

to follow here and there the strip-tease of the public.

Do you like it?

Would you like a microscope?

Excuse me? A photo, Sir? - No, no!

Excuse me. - Scared of your wife, eh?

Please.

Oh, you're my one and only Jackie!

Without you, I'm so lonely, Jackie.

You know you gonna drive me wacky.

You're my ideal, the guy I've always waited for.

It's just like a dream, my Jackie,

to have found you at last.

I knew the moment that I saw you, my love.

Well, don't forget me or you'll regret me.

Please, say that you'll be mine forever, Jackie.

Oh, don't forget me? - Sir! Please!

Hey, if you please! - ?or you'll regret me,

Please, say that you'll be mine forever, Jackie.

I'm sorry, dear.

Lady Phu Qui Cho!

Do you find it interesting too, Ma'am? - Yes.

Indeed?

There's always something to learn.

This is the ultimate meanness!

And now, Mailles de Filet,

striptease in fishnet,

performed by Lily Niagara!

Follow me, please.

Secretary Sir.

This way.

One second, Secretary.

A cigarette, Secretary?

Sir, your table is ready. - Perfect.

For reasons exquisitely technical,

in a while, we'll be forced to interrupt this painful suspense.

A pity!

Just think that tonight Lily Niagara was ready

to strip the skin off her back,

remaining, for your delight, only in her breast and tail bones.

And finally, for you ladies.

Maybe even she has something to learn?

Bye.

What is happening in Dolly Bell's dressing room?

Or could've prevented it. I told you a 1000 times.

Dolly!

Pig!

What's the matter? - Pig! I can't take it anymore!

The usual poaching photographer who caught her

in the most critical moment of her number.

What was it? - He photographed her nude.

Look, after all,

they only strip so they can dress themselves.

But male undressing isn't just like this in Paris.

This one, for example, is what is offered by Coccinelle,

the person of whom the Ville Lumi?re

hasn't been able yet to attribute with certainty

one of the current sexes.

Your nose,

turned up mockingly.

Your eyes,

always smiling.

Everyone

who knows you,

intoxicated

by your caresses.

They leave

but always come back,

Paris,

to your loves.

This is Paris! This is Paris!

Coccinelle!

A lady walking by,

a little hi and in little time we're upside down.

A lady walking by,

and then the tired become gay.

It's the sun?

Certainly, appearances are more against him than against her.

Seeing her tonight when she appears at the Carousel,

before the crowd of her "girlfriends,"

one wouldn't believe that only 4 years ago during the draft,

she was discharged for weakness of chest.

On the Champs-?lys?es, one sees me sashay,

all the men are quick to look my way.

Coccinelle!

When along the crossway, crossing out of the blue,

as I went by, a traffic jam quite cuckoo.

I had such an effect that Office Bissel

swallowed his whistle.

What do I have then? What do I have then

that trouble the boys? Ooh, la, la!

Is it my little turned-up nose?

My big, saucer eyes?

What do I have then? What do I have then?

But I'm from Panama, that's why!

And of real Parisians,

I?m the exception.

From Paris to Madrid, in a click of a heel.

Corral de la Morer?a.

At the Corral de la Morer?a, a most popular locale in Madrid,

pleasant encounters often occur.

Here the star of flamenco, Casarrubios,

has recognized the most popular actress in Spain, Carmen Sevilla,

in company with actor Gustavo Rojo.

Persuaded by the public's applause, the lovely actress decides

to improvise a dance there and then,

laboriously prepared in long weeks of hard work.

Baby, I love you so!

God knows! Yeah, yeah!

Faster! Faster! Dawn is coming!

Surely, it's Colin Hicks and his boys again.

Imagine, just today between rehearsals and shows,

12 hours of this Saint Vitus' Dance.

Soon in the next 12, they'll try to slow down but

as usual, as soon as they manage to do so,

it will be time to start again.

One kiss! Yeah, yeah!

One kiss! Yeah, yeah!

One kiss! Yeah, yeah!

One kiss! Yeah, yeah!

Baby, I love you so!

Well, I've got a gal with a record machine,

when it comes to rockin', she's the queen.

We're going to dance on a Saturday night, all alone where I can hold her tight.

But she lives on the 20th floor uptown. The elevator's broken down.

So I'll walk 1, 2 flight, 3 flight, 4, 5, 6, 7 flight, 8 flight, more.

Up on the 12th I'm startin' to drag, 15th floor I'm a-ready to sag.

Get to the top, I'm too tired to rock!

When she calls me up on the telephone, "Come on over baby, I'm all alone."

I said, "Baby you're mighty sweet but I'm in bed with the achin' feet."

All this climbin' is a-gettin' me down. They'll find my corpse draped over a rail.

1, 2 flight, 3 flight, 4 5, six, 7 flight, 8 flight, more.

Up on the 12th I'm ready to drag, 15th floor I'm startin' to sag.

Get to the top, I'm too tired to rock!

Up on the 12th I'm ready to drag, 15th floor I'm startin' to sag.

Get to the top, I'm too tired to rock!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! Ay yai yai!

Soon up high in the sky, the tyrant shall shine again.

Already stirring in their blankets of marble

are the solemn heroes of thought.

Along the river, couples prepare a leavetaking

with one last caress that only in a few moments,

could have been called "public indecency."

To the defense of that decency, the lance of Don Quixote rises.

No, Don Quixote is one of us.

He has always left in peace the windmills of Moulin Rouge.

Along the streets and squares, here are the first to go to work.

And here are the last who haven't resigned themselves to going home.

Night and day have their brief encounter.

The night is lost inside the morning.

The alleys slowly become brighter.

and comes the sun.

Sun, sun, sun,

smiling through houses, it comes in, it come in.

Every thing?

becomes cleaner.

The clothes waving in the sky,

the voices in the street,

the first song.

Wake up, painters.

Choose your colors,

with green and the water of the sea.

Sea, sea, sea,

beat against the prow for hours, hours.

Sails and winds?

Yeah, "sea, sea! Sun, sun!"

Let's raise this hymn to life returning with a wave of light,

to the work in the fields, to the toil in the offices,

to the bills that come due, to the taxes, to the fines.

Take heart.

You just need to hang in there for 8 or 9 hours,

because the night will return.

Imagination will return

in this splendid capital of Europe that rises

in a spot that's yet too imprecise.

A spot that we want as north as possible.

In that extreme north where the nights, they say,

last for 6 months.

See also

• Bandura
• Travelogue
• Miniature city
• Mondo di notte
• RoGoPaG (1962)
• Night Women (La femme spectacle, 1964)
• "Ca c'est Paris" - Tino Rossi
• Corral de la Morería
• Spanish Steps in Rome
• La Nouvelle Ève (cabaret)
• Flavio Mogherini
• Fabio Jegher