News del Locarno Festival

That Ride Called #Locarno67

That Ride Called #Locarno67



We left eleven days ago, guided by the tender, fragile word of Jean-Pierre Léaud. During these days, soaked by the rain and then stroked by the sun, the Les Quatre Cents Coups child transformed himself in the juggler of poetry of Armin Mueller-Stahl and then pouring in the enchanting fondness of the wondering eyes on the world of Mia Farrow. The journey continued facing the authorial fears of Dario Argento, before tuning an irresistible dance of the leopard with Agnès Varda. That same night a little girl took the Piazza on her hand in another choreography of gestures introducing Marie Heurtin in a way that we will remember for a very long time. The week started with the elegance of Nansun SHI, followed by the humor of Jonathan Pryce and by the grace of Giancarlo Giannini. The child become man turned into kid again in the poetic cinema of Víctor Erice, man of weighed and deep words as his glance.

Like every journey, this amazing ride – called #Locarno67 – had a sticking point: the time of an infinite emotion remembering who was not in Locarno. A few verses borrowed from Shakespeare by Connie Nielsen celebrating the colleague and friend Robin Williams are for me the strongest moments of this year. The child turned himself again in gentle giant, the irresistible Garrett Brown, the man of the Steadicam®.

Juliette Binoche closed this spin dance, actress with a gaze full of unbearable melancholy and unstrung will of experimentation.

Waiting for the last trick of the Piazza, on the tunes of the polar-urban musical by Tony Gatlif, I quickly browse the daily program of the Festival. My thought stops on those movies and directors that were not lucky enough to be considered by the juries: I make a toast to their will of stand a chance. Above daily verdicts, I’m glad to underline how the whole backdrop of the offer always chased those accents of free creativity that make cin- ema an art both fragile and necessary.

The voluntary bewilderment guaranteed by many of the directors who found a place here in Locarno for ten days are opposed to the fertile counterbalance to the more popular basis of the retrospective dedicated to the that factory of unreal, not only italian, that Titanus was. The past never passed by, if continues talking to that future that here at the Festival we are trying to identify in some trajectories full of meanings. Only in this way the Festival can become again to be that crossroad of ideas, offers and emotions, lost and found again at every screening.

Carlo Chatrian

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