I recently saw a film by Marco Risi (Dino's son, for instance), which I found extremely significant. A look of satisfaction on a free shit that concerns us all. And 'our, and certainly not enough that we hold your nose.
The smell told in Fortapàsc passes from the eyes, ears, skin, throat.
And of course the Neapolitan slightly stunted protagonist's (Which also has its birthplace in Naples) I am not at all away from reality "revived" and recorded for the benefit of good connoisseurs.
E 'is not recorded because transposed, it is not packaged to appear. It seems it is.
No supplement to the daily tragedy of a tragic reality that belongs to us. That is our law and, above all, duty.
Nothing added, nothing taken away. Nor too many tears or laughter too. It seems to be there.
And in the end you can not cry, even if you know the person who died.
One can only wonder whether this country is still worth the life of a right.
Francesca Benoit
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