If our last post was all about staying “woke” (come on, millennials, read this blog), then this is an encouragement to dream a little more. Every year at the Giornate, long lost films pop up, unearthed from a New Zealand hayloft, a Pordenone…
To sleep, perchance to dream – ay, there’s the rub, for a succession of trans- and intercontinental flights make for a poor sleeping pattern at the Giornate. For many of us it must be inevitable to spend at least a few days in a state…
The gentle notes emanating from Antonio Coppola’s pianoforte softened the harsh reality that was depicted in Febo Mari’s L’Emigrante (1915). The film couldn’t have been more different than the one it accompanied in the splendid Febo Mari double bill that graced the Teatro Verdi’s screen…
Those of us who recently joined the elated masses in movie palaces to behold the sight of a magical clown dancing, prancing, and biting his way about the silver screen might have noticed that the child-devouring jester had a few familiar tricks up his sleeve.…
