“It’s 1977, the (red) sky has finally fallen to earth. (A) To blow on the flames - through the discord, the (armed) joy, (class) revolt and conspiracy, giving no quarter - is a strange movement of strange students, a conspiracy of madmen without family, without prisons. The prairie is in flames, the revolution is over we won.” Luis Fulvio
Shot in 16mm and Super8, Al di là dell’uno is a poetic essay about love, in constant motion. The succession of fragments of encounters and interviews which the director filmed in France, India, Italy, Germany and Belgium create a broad map of relations and the various attempts at and ways of loving. “Because each person has a form of love,” as Sumathy, one of the protagonists, says.
A film diary which begins with the slow reconstruction of L’Aquila, the director’s hometown, and continues with the earthquake in Amatrice and Arquata del Tronto, and life in a hotel after the earthquakes in Norcia and Montereale-Campotosto. An intimate and ironical story, in which the topic of living in a seismic area becomes an instrument for reflecting on the very meaning of making films.
In the south of Iran, people and spirits have been cohabiting for centuries on a group of islands in the Persian Gulf. The culture and traditions of these places were created by the confluence of Africa, Arab countries, and Iran. Spirits called “Bad,” which means “wind” in Persian, move through the air and take over the bodies of the islands’ inhabitants. The musical rite of the Zar is needed to appease them.
The toad, the stork and the swallow. Like a fresco, Diorama recounts the encounter between humans and wild animals in the city. The people’s voices become those of the animals and the animals’ bodies become those of the humans. There is neither metamorphosis nor transformation. They are superimpositions, ghosts, a utopian attempt to delineate one single mind as the matrix of the living.
Among the ravines and flood plains of the Senio river, in the lower province of Romagna, the small town of Cotignola prepares to construct a large arena made out of bales of hay; it will host readings, performances and concerts. But two trivial accidents cause the death of two of the organizers. The victims encounter each other in a parallel dimension, where the boundary with the real world becomes increasingly insubstantial.
Stories which don’t recount Naples but the theatre which the city produces in a natural way, taking inspiration from the fairytales of Pentamerone by G.B. Basile, in which sublime language and vulgar jokes meet and nourish each other.
Abdelouahab, Aldo, decides to return home after spending almost forty years in Italy. He is accompanied by Ilyass, Elia, his thirty-four-year-old son who grew up in Lombardy. It is a chance for the father and son to get to know one another, explain themselves and understand each other. Immigration is the backdrop to the stories and memories of the two men during a journey which will take them to their destination, passing by way of France and Spain.
How do people live in a city in Southern Italy, a few meters from a coal-burning power plant and from one of Europe’s largest petrochemical factories? What remains of the initial promises of progress? Two farmers who live downwind from the plants and an environmentalist scuba diver try to show the damage the industries have caused to the economy and to public health. And yet the press agent at the power plant tells a diametrically different story.