I do not work in the movie industry, I’m not a film critic or a journalist. But I love cinema, I love dreaming, fantasize, falling down in the most uncomfortable or hidden reality. And after 18 months of smart working framed in my monitor, i really need to fly away.
Then let’s go for Venezia 78. Sign up on Boxol (I was luckier than Stefano Disegni that has been trapped for a few days in the digital system). I studied the program, I made some painful choices and I left for my tiny three days at the 78th Mostra del Cinema di Venezia, between steamboats and screenings: Cenzorka (I was curious about the seven months spent in the prison of Odessa interviewing the “107 mothers”), Sorrentino’s The Hand of God (because is Sorrentino!), The lost daughter (I read the novel by Elena Ferrante), La ragazza ha volato (for those strong emotions created by D’innocenzo Bros) and Il buco (Calabria is my adopted land).
I arrive in Venice and a clear sky welcomes me. The water of the lagoon is still and in movement at the same time, the silence of Venice – zero cars, just a dream – and then the Lido with its liberty villas, little bridges, gardens, channels and after all this I arrive at Palazzo del Cinema. And I start breathing energy, dreams, working, enthusiasm. Screenings, Lectio magistralis, red carpet, improvised newsroom on the sofas of Terrazza Campari, the dreads of the cameramen and the lamè mini dress of the 20 somethings, the stars arriving on speedboat Riva and fans huddled on the bridge of the Excelsior waiting for the favourite star. And the screening theatres, the brightness of the images, the incredible sound design, the sea all around that is an inside show. Let’s back to the movies!
Francesca Romana Pucci
