M Y   D I N N E R   W I T H B E L L U C C I   A N D   B E L L O W BY BOBBY RUFFERTO On a cold Sunday evening, I had the opportunity to dine with legendary writer Saul Bellow and Italian actress Monica Bellucci in New York City. We were to discuss their upcoming project, "D'ora in Poi Dir� Solo la Verit�," a performance art piece which will be touring the nation and Europe this spring. After some false starts -- Mr. Bellow cancelled our first dinner for an impromptu trip to Atlantic City (he says he lost thousands playing "Let it Ride," thousands more at a strip club); Ms. Bellucci stood the two of us up for what was to be our second dinner attempt, because she was so enraptured in a bubble bath at her hotel, she completely lost track of time and emerged seven hours later, sparkling clean but having forgotten how to speak anything but French -- we finally meet at the Daily Soup on 42nd Street, Mr. Bellow's choice of restaurants. Mr. Bellow is dressed casually in slacks and a cardigan. Ms. Bellucci is, characteristically, naked but for two large hooped earrings. Her flawless English has returned. Q: Tell us about your project. SB: It is about the nakedness of the human soul, reflected in Bellucci's lack of clothing. MB: It's cold in here. SB: Yes, Bellucci. Your nipples each point at me like the cold, cold finger of the Reaper. Q: And how exactly will you each contribute? Is Ms. Bellucci perf-- SB: Bellucci! Q: Ah, sorry... Is Ms. Bell-oo-chi-- SB: No! Bellucci! Bellucci! Not Ms. Bellucci. Not Monica. She is simply Bellucci! Q: I see. I'm sorry. Will Bellucci be acting scenes you've written, Mr. Bellow? How will this performance art work? MB: I will dance. I will spin around. I will walk on my hands. Mr. Bellow will not be present. Rather, I will be accompanied by a tape cassette of his voice reading from his grocery shopping list, from his Verizon bill, from Amazon.com shoppers' reviews of his novels. SB: It is about the nakedness of the human soul, reflected in Bellucci's lack of clothing. Q: I see. You two seem to make an unusual pairing. How did you meet? MB: We took a yoga class together. They positioned our little mats on the gym floor alphabetically. I sat right behind him. SB: Bellucci speaks truth. MB: Saulie can barely touch his toes. I can place the sole of my foot flat on my back. Watch. [Ms. Bellucci rises and performs this feat, to the slack-jawed shock of all patrons of the Daily Soup. It is indeed an astounding display. She gracefully returns to the table and sips her lentil soup.] Q: Mr. Bellow, your work carries an intense gravity; you've thus earned a reputation as a man of very dark and heavy stuff, yet you seem to be a rather light-hearted fellow. Tell us a joke. SB: My first wife looked like Bardot. MB: Brigette? SB: No. Guy Lom. MB: Ba-dum bum. [Awkward pause on my part. The two artists smile at me. This was obviously some sort of rehearsed gag.] Q: I don't get it. MB: Saulie's wit is lost on most. SB: Bellucci speaks truth. Q: Mr. Bellow, what do you think of Ms. Bellucci's films? Have you seen "Brotherhood of the Wolf"? Or either of her current films, "Tears of the Sun," or "Irreversible"? MB: Saulie doesn't watch my movies. SB: I do not watch cinema. Sometimes I watch the television. I have an old black and white set from the seventies. It still works, but the picture is fuzzy. Q: So, you've never seen her perform? What made you decide to work with-- SB: Bellucci performs for me in private. She re�nacts whole episodes of some of my favorite programs. You should see Bellucci do "Good Times." Her impersonations are uncanny. She does an hysterical Florida. Q: "Good Times"? SB: Why do they no longer run that show on BET? Q: Mr. Bellow, you watch BET? SB: Not since they stopped airing "Good Times." But, the network was the inspiration for my novel, "Herzog." Q: I see. MB: Dynomite! SB: Bellucci is very talented. MB: Saulie flatters me. SB: Nonsense. Q: Bellucci, you will be appearing in the upcoming "Matrix" sequels-- MB: No, I will not. Q: You... Yes, you... I'm sorry, "the Matrix"-- MB: I did no such thing. Q: I've seen you in the commercial. I was given a promotional poster, autographed by you. MB: That is the work of voo-doo trickery. Q: Okay. I... Um. Well. Would you like to discuss... MB: My nudity? European audiences are not as immature as Americans. Americans are so childish. And ignorant. And smelly. Oh wait: Did you say the "Matrix"? Q: Yes-- MB: Yes. Yes. I will be in the "Matrix." I will be in both sequels. "The Matrix: Reloaded," and "The Matrix: Revolutions." I will also be in the first one. Q: The first one? MB: Yes. It is called "The Matrix." Nothing more. Elegant in its simplicity. Q: I'm afraid I don't understand. I've seen "The Matrix." MB: I will be in that. But not "Brotherhood of the Wolf." SB: Bellucci. Truth. Speaking. Q: How is this possible? I have the DVD. You're not in that. They made it already. Years ago. What the hell are you talking about? MB: God, do you know anything about the matrix at all? Not the film. The real thing. Do you? Americans. Ugh. Q: Moving on. You're both fluent in French-- MB: Cet entrevue am�ricain est un chimpanz�. SB: Pas aimez-vous bourrer un brie dans son derri�re? Q: Okay. Well. MB: J'ai la puissance des dieux dans des mes seins. SB:Vous parlez la v�rit�. Q: Mr. Bellow, you are 87 years old. But you have a young daughter-- SB: Bellucci is not my daughter. Q: No, no, I'm referring to your three-year-old, Naomi Rose. Tell us about her. MB: She has her father's wit and poignancy. SB: I have sired dozens of children throughout the world. Many do not know they are my daughter. My seed is magical and transcendent. I need only to eye a woman up and down while she is ovulating, and she will become impregnated. Q: That's... remarkable. MB: It is true. SB: I grow tired of this interview. My soup is no more. Q: Before we wrap, can you give us a tiny glimpse of the project? MB: We do not do excerpts. We did not bring the tape recorder. SB: Perhaps I can read from the menu. MB: Will it work? SB: If you dance truth. My words are mere background. MB: You are godlike, Saulie. SB: Chicken noodle. Minestrone. Cream of Mushroom. [Ms. Bellucci leaps to her feet. She does a dizzying, frenetic dance, encorporating breadsticks and drinking straws from the nearby countertop. The staff and customers appear frightened, yet intrigued. A child cries. After a teasing minute, Ms. Bellucci returns to her seat.] MB: That is all. SB: Bellucci now carries my child. This interview is no more.

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