The Chief Editor of Ciak asked me to describe the feelings generated by this year’s Venice Film Festival for those not attending. I spent just a couple of hours at Lido this year to receive the Filming Italy Best Movie Award for the documentary I made for Rai Cultura Edizione straordinaria.
I haven’t seen any movie this time. But I followed the Festival in the newspapers, on television and litigious social media.
My feeling? My feeling is that Venice Film Festival grew up impressively during the last few years, the quality of the selection increased, the presence of the stars on the red carpet is appropriate according to festival reputation.
Alberto Barbera has built through the years the most difficult element, the festival identity. Venice Film Festival is a recognizable entity defined by a crystal clear cultural and cinematic approach.
I don’t deny mainstream cinema, I don’t demonize experimenting with new languages.
The Festival is a rainbow of expressive forms selected by the programmers decrypting the newborn creature that is a movie just released from post-production.
The Festival is a kaleidoscope inspired by what is more estranged to the narrow zeitgeist: the pleasure of nurturing and meeting diversity.
We are experiencing hard times. These years saddened us and plunged us into an ordinary dark landscape made of infection, dead, uncertainty, fear of our era.
During this time the temples of collective fantasy remained close. Cinemas, theatres, museums, auditoriums. We were barricaded in our home fading the grey with the colours of tv screens that replaced all those public places where we used to laugh, cry, be outraged, get emotional.
But we loved to be together.
Time will tell us if those shut doors will open again. It’s not granted.
In the meantime, the Festival of Barbera and Cicutto made us want to take off the key from the lock, wear a face mask and come back to live all together this great emotion.
It’s quite enough during this crooked time.
