Massimo Ranieri has never stopped being popular in Italy. Here he sings a song about a man who thought he had found love, but then lost it.

Maurizio is a young student from the province of Pescara, going to school (university) in Rome. He tells us a little bit about himself, and his life in Rome. This is an excellent opportunity to compare how Italian treats tenses with respect to English, especially the English present perfect, and present continuous.

Massimiliano is a musician, and together with his friend Stefano, and the mascot Cuba, he's trying to introduce the group to record labels. In addition to talking about his dream, he talks about Garbatella, the neighborhood where he was born, and which he wants never to leave.

This song is one side of a phone call made to someone after meeting her at a party. But is there anyone on the other end?

As you can see from the video, Max Gazzè seems to be singing to a mannequin. The song is from the album Maximilian, and was published in 2016.

Me Ne Frego [I don't give a damn], was one of the mottoes of Fascism, coming originally from the writings of Gabriele d'Annunzio and employed by storm troops during World War One as a war cry for courage and daring, with the meaning, "I don't mind dying for freedom." The motto gives the title to this documentary about the influences of Italian Fascism on the Italian language. It was produced by the Istituto Luce Cinecittà, with materials from the historical Luce archives, and narrates the obscure attempt by the Fascist regime to create a new and unique language, a new “Italian” that fit the dogma of the dictatorship.

Mussolini forbade the use of dialects and the minority languages that were spoken in the regions bordering the countries to the north in favor of one language for all. Italians were bombarded by fascist propaganda and Mussolini's very frequent speeches.

In World War I, Italians who up until then had spoken their regional dialects, found themselves fighting side by side against a common enemy. But Mussolini was interested in fighting the internal enemy.

The segment looks at how Mussolini patterned his fiercely nationalist rhetoric after poet Gabriele D'Annunzio, while harkening back to the glory of Imperial Rome. The song in the segment refers to Balilla, an 18th century Genoese boy. In 1746, Balilla threw a stone at an Austrian official of the occupying Hapsburg Empire, which led to the War of the Austrian Succession.

A great deal of effort went into purging foreign words from the Italian language under the fascist regime. Newspapers, magazines, and book publishers were at the forefront of the effort and were tasked with finding Italian replacements for foreign words and expressions. Many fascist-era terms have fallen by the wayside, but some succeeded and are still in use today. As an example, the word manifesto [poster] was successfully introduced to replace the French term affiche.

Mussolini continues to get rid of any traces of foreign words, and even mounts an exhibit against the use of the common formal second person singular address "Lei" (you) in favor of "Voi." See this lesson about "Voi" to get some background.

We can see that the battle against using "Lei," the common, formal, second-person form of address, was taken very seriously by the fascists. In fact they went too far when it came to a popular women's magazine called "Lei" (she, her).

The nineteen twenties ushered in sound in cinema. Italy's L.U.C.E. [L'Unione Cinematografica Educativa or Educational Film Union] was founded in 1924 and generated the fascist regime's cinematic propaganda.

Soon after the introduction of talkies, dubbing came about in the thirties. Dubbing was extremely popular in Italy and remains so today.

Schools in fascist Italy banned the study of dialects and moved to using standardized textbooks. The fascist hymn “Viva Adua nostra” refers to a battle won by the Kingdom of Italy in 1896 near Adwa, Ethiopia.