The reason for travelling is the travel itself - F. De Andrè
It is been thirteen years since the shooting of my first film as a director and more than fifteen since I started to work as editor and videographer, but I still wonder what fascinated me most in this rich and complex language, sometimes so difficult to use for economic and logistic reasons, I wonder what makes the audiovisual, more and more, a powerful tool, able to attract so many spectators, greedy for moving images, rhythm, stories, light, music, emotions.
I think the main reason can be summed up in a single word: travel ("viaggio" in italian).
Unfortunately, the Latin etymology of this word is very poor. "Viaticum" in fact, the word from which it derives, was what the traveler needed during the journey, in short, his suitcase. In my opinion, this definition hides the man's fear of traveling which is seen as a kind of lack to fill with one's own"viaticum": traveling consists in having what you will need far from home (how many of us spend hours full of anxiety packing up your suitcase before leaving being afraid of later finding yourself without something absolutely essential?).
We need a home, a family, a place where we can feel safe, this has always been the case, since we became sedentary as nomads. And this is fine, how can I not share it, but I have always felt the need to "travel" and to put my securities in crisis and see where this takes me.
This greed for cinema, for this dark room full of places never seen before, gestures never made and stories never experienced by the spectator, is just the place of the imaginary journeys that we would like to make and of which at the same time we have an hidden and deep fear.
Thas is the place where the directors come to our rescue, they are the ones who find the most distant places for us (even if they are sometimes very very close to us) and the people who, without a film, we would never had met and serve them to us on a tray in the shape of a screen, ready to be devoured by our eyes.
This is what I basically consider as a storyteller, a tireless traveler at the service of potential travelers ...
To make someone else travel, I need to keep myself on travel, even staying still, like that narrator of my childhood, Emilio Salgari, who told about India without ever having even set foot there.
My first film, "The Conquest of America", is about a couple who live in a flat and who has adaily life similar to many others, but then, they decide to spend a day away, not far from where they live, a winter Sunday by the sea. There, they will meet a strange man who lives as a hermit in the remains of an abandoned holiday colony on the Romagna coast. We choose the "wrong" time and the "wrong" space and magic happens.
The journey is here, within us and it takes very little to go from the ordinary to the extraordinary, to ignite the infinite range of possibilities that each of us could experience at any moment or to meet them in someone else's life, as long as something happens that we had not foreseen, that there is nothing that we had packed before leaving that can help us.
Cinema is an invitation to travel without suitcase.