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Recensione: "La quattordicesima domenica del tempo ordinario"
articolo di Vittoria Scarpa

04/05/2023 - Pupi Avati torna nel terreno della nostalgia con il suo nuovo film, che dichiara essere il suo più sincero e autobiografico, su un amore assoluto e i sogni che svaniscono.

Gabriele Lavia e Edwige Fenech in La quattordicesima domenica del tempo ordinario
Il tempo ordinario, nel calendario liturgico della Chiesa cattolica, è il periodo che intercorre tra la Quaresima e l’Avvento, abbraccia la primavera e l’estate, ed è la stagione in cui solitamente ci si sposa. Suona criptico il titolo del nuovo lungometraggio di Pupi Avati, da oggi in circa 300 sale italiane distribuito da Vision Distribution, ma in realtà basta fare due conti: La quattordicesima domenica del tempo ordinario – lo ha spiegato lui stesso alla presentazione del film a Roma – indica il 24 gennaio del 1964, giorno il cui il veterano cineasta bolognese (oggi 84 anni e più di 40 film per il cinema al suo attivo) sposò “la più bella ragazza di Bologna”, dopo averla rincorsa per quattro anni. Ed è proprio attorno a un amore assoluto, prima idilliaco e poi sofferto, e ai sogni che svaniscono, che ruota l’ultima fatica dell’instancabile regista, che avevamo lasciato nemmeno un anno fa alle prese con Dante, e che qui torna nel terreno che gli è più congeniale: quello della nostalgia.
Il film si apre con un’immagine poetica, in bianco e nero, di un vecchio chiosco di gelati attorniato da bambini sorridenti, ciascuno col suo cono in mano. È la Bologna del secolo scorso, ed è in quello stesso chiosco – “dove le cose che sognavi, accadevano” – che Marzio conoscerà Sandra, versandole un frappè addosso. La storia si svolge tra gli anni ’70 e i giorni nostri, prima quando i giovani Marzio e Sandra si amano e coltivano i loro sogni – lui quello della musica, insieme al suo migliore amico Samuele, e lei quello della moda, come indossatrice – e poi quando, dopo molti anni, si rincontrano a un funerale e tracciano un bilancio dei loro fallimenti.
Avati e suo fratello Antonio, produttore, giocano ancora una volta con il cast e compongono per questo film un ensemble che definiscono “un mix rischioso ed eccitante”, accostando professionisti, vecchie glorie, volti che non ti aspetti ed esordi: il cantante della band Lo Stato Sociale Lodo Guenzi (già visto in Est - Dittatura Last Minute) e l’attore di teatro classico Gabriele Lavia incarnano Marzio, rispettivamente da giovane e da vecchio; la debuttante Camilla Ciraolo e la reginetta delle commedie sexy degli anni ’70-80 Edwige Fenech sono Sandra, ieri e oggi; l’amico Samuele, che chiude il triangolo, ha i tratti del giovane Nick Russo e del più attempato Massimo Lopez, noto attore comico qui in un’inedita veste drammatica.
“Le cose belle son volate via”, ripete la canzone-cavallo di battaglia che i giovani Marzio e Samuele, che formano il duo I Leggenda, sognano di portare al Festival di Sanremo, prima che il più concreto Samuele molli tutto e accetti un posto fisso in banca, mentre Marzio continuerà caparbio a inseguire l’illusione della musica, diventando un rocker agée, malinconico e fallito che si riduce a sponsorizzare prodotti vari pur di ottenere una comparsata in tv con la sua chitarra.
Tra gioie e dolori, rammarico e felicità, su un sostrato di profonda amarezza e con picchi di voluto patetismo, questo è il film che Avati dichiara essere il suo più sincero e autobiografico. “Siamo tutti falliti rispetto ai nostri sogni”, afferma il regista che da giovane tentò una carriera come clarinettista jazz. Quanto all’amore, uno crede che sia una garanzia di felicità eterna, e invece “la vita prima o poi ti risveglia”.
La quattordicesima domenica del tempo ordinario è prodotto da Duea Film e Minerva Pictures, con Vision Distribution e in collaborazione con Sky.


Otto giurati si uniscono al presidente Ruben Östlund a Cannes
di Fabien Lemercier

04/05/2023 - La giuria che assegnerà la Palma d’Oro include Brie Larson, Julia Ducournau, Maryam Touzani, Rungano Nyoni, Paul Dano, Denis Ménochet, Atiq Rahimi e Damián Szifrón
La regista Julia Ducournau (© Stephane Cardinale – Corbis/Getty Images), il regista Damián Szifrón (© Gabriel Machado), la regista Rungano Nyoni (© Gabriel Gauchet), l'attore-regista Paul Dano (© Jay L. Clendenin/Getty Images), il regista Ruben Östlund (© Julien Lienard/Getty Images), l'attore Denis Ménochet (© Sabine Villiard), l'attrice-regista Brie Larson (© Randy Holmes/Getty Images), il regista Atiq Rahimi (© Frédéric Stucin) e la regista Maryam Touzani (© Lorenzo Salemi) (© Festival de Cannes)

Questo articolo è disponibile in inglese.
The members of the official competition jury at the 76th Cannes Film Festival (16-27 May), chaired by Swedish filmmaker Ruben Östlund (see the news), have now all been unmasked. The jury will comprise a total of nine members.
There are four women involved, with US actress-director Brie Larson (winner of the Oscar for Best Actress in 2016 for Room), French filmmaker Julia Ducournau (Palme d’Or in 2021 with Titane), her Moroccan counterpart Maryam Touzani (in the Un Certain Regard showcase in 2019 and 2022 with Adam and The Blue Caftan) and British-Zambian helmer Rungano Nyoni (who rose to fame in the Directors’ Fortnight in 2017 with I Am Not a Witch).
Also being summoned to judge the 21 films in the running for the 2023 Palme d’Or (see the news) are US actor Paul Dano (seen last year in The Batman and The Fabelmans), his French counterpart Denis Ménochet (very popular recently in The Beasts), Argentinian director Damián Szifrón (Wild Tales and currently on the cinema listings in France with To Catch a Killer), and Afghan author and filmmaker Atiq Rahimi (who won an award in Un Certain Regard in 2004 with Earth and Ashes, and who took part in Toronto with The Patience Stone and Our Lady of the Nile).
As a reminder, the Un Certain Regard jury will be chaired by John C Reilly (see the news), and the one weighing up the short films and the Cinef selection will be presided over by Ildikó Enyedi (see the news). As for the Caméra d’or jury (handed to the best feature debut in any of the selections), it will be chaired by French thesp Anaïs Demoustier, who will be backed up by actor Raphaël Personnaz, DoP Nathalie Durand, writer-director Mikael Buch, Sophie Frilley (TitraFilm) and journalist Nicolas Marcadé.


Intervista a Soňa G. Lutherová • Regista di A Happy Man

"Quando fai un film come questo, hai una responsabilità"
di Marta Bałaga.

04/05/2023 - La regista slovacca racconta la storia di una famiglia che affronta un cambiamento, insieme.

Questo articolo è disponibile in inglese.
After coming out as trans, Marvin finally seems like A Happy Man. With his husband, Ivan, they decide to stay together and continue raising their kids. But things are bound to be different, even despite their bond. Director Soňa G Lutherová unpacks her Hot Docs-screened documentary.
Cineuropa: Marvin is transitioning, but your film is also about a couple – about two people trying to love each other despite a massive, life-altering change.
Soňa G Lutherová: You know what? That’s exactly what interested me. We have known each other for quite some time; we met in 2008 at the airport, by complete chance. I was going to Stockholm with my now-husband, and they were moving to Sweden. This perfectly average, normal-looking couple. We became friends and started to have kids. Marvin came out in 2017, which at first was quite surprising to me, a cis-gender person living in a heteronormative relationship. At the same time, I realized we are all constantly changing. I am different as a mother, as a filmmaker and as an anthropologist. This is something we can all relate to, I guess.
It feels like, apart from Marvin, no one – including his husband – feels too comfortable discussing it. Was it hard to convince people around him to do that?
It was a challenge for Marvin, too. This story started with his transition, so of course, I asked him first, but Ivan had to be on board as well. And he was, from the very beginning. He is a very particular guy, but I think he actually enjoyed it! For Marvin, it was a chance to take control of his story. When you are transitioning, you become dependent on others: there are so many gatekeepers deciding what will happen to you and your body. There were no boundaries, basically, although we often talked about the message of this film. He knew what my perspective was on things and that we wouldn’t be confronting his kids.
Stories about transition can be full of pain. But this film is so warm!
It’s true – they aren’t so rare any more, but they can be quite tragic. It’s a difficult situation, but I think it’s necessary to show the audience that trans people are just like anyone else: they have to take care of their children, they have their own struggles and their routines. When we started, Marvin already knew he wanted to transition; there weren’t any doubts. This decision wasn’t made lightly, but it was necessary. I wanted to underline that.
There is something very practical about this couple’s approach and their hopes for the future. They know it might not work out in the end.
Whenever I asked them an intimate question, like when I asked Marvin about their sex life, I kept it in the film. He is reacting to something I said and not just talking about these things on his own. Trans characters are often sexualized, and everything else is just pushed to one side. But it can be so reductive. Family, relationships – these things can be so much more complex, not to mention that everyone understands them. I hope this film will make the audience think about what it means to have a partner, to be a parent.
Why the decision to have Marvin record short videos on his own? Was it because you simply couldn’t enter some spaces?
It started right after the operation. I would never have shot the procedure itself – to me, it would have put too much emphasis on the body. But we went to Malmö together, and I walked him to the hospital, which you don’t see in the film. I did it as a friend, not as a filmmaker. Later, he sent me this video, on his own, and it made me very emotional. It’s so powerful in its spontaneity. Then he continued to do it, whenever he felt like sharing something. Like when he had to shave for the first time.
Did you always know when to step aside? It can be trickier when you actually know the person.
We talked about it a lot. As an anthropologist, I think a lot about how I position myself in the story. Am I crossing any boundaries? Whose voice are we listening to? Marvin and Ivan are pragmatic people. They see things very clearly. I think sometimes I was being more careful than they were! There is a responsibility that comes with making a film like this, about a topic that’s still controversial in Central Europe. Even more so today.
You don’t really show any nasty reactions to Marvin.
It was shot in Brno [Czech Republic], and they were a bit anxious, but in the end, it went well. I don’t know how it would have been in Slovakia. Maybe the same? When we started, the situation was different. Now, these discussions can get very heated. If someone is strictly against it, I don’t think I can change their mind. But maybe I can convince the ones in the middle? We wanted to depoliticize it: it’s a simple family story. A love story, even though we don’t know how it will end. Then again, it has already ended well, in a way, because of the respectful way they are facing it all together.