Interview by Alessandro Chiodo
On-set and behind-the-scenes photos by Maria Marín, whom we warmly thank
Today we’re talking about Follemente, the latest film by Paolo Genovese. It’s quite literally a journey into the minds of its two protagonists, Edoardo Leo and Pilar Fogliati. But above all, it’s a challenge for those tasked with bringing this story to life. We meet two artists, two craftsmen, two professionals responsible for creating the film’s visual identity: Fabrizio Lucci, cinematographer, and Max Sturiale, production designer. Fabrizio Lucci has worked on countless films and has had a long-standing collaboration with director Paolo Genovese, specialising in refined romantic comedies and emotional dramas. His credits include Perfect Strangers, The Immature, The Place, Superheroes, and now Follemente. Massimiliano Sturiale is a remarkable production designer who transforms screenplays into fantastical worlds – for instance Freaks Out, The Lions of Sicily – made together with Fabrizio – They Call Me Jeeg, and now Follemente. This is your second time working together. How did the Follemente project begin? Does production design come first, or cinematography?
FL: I’ll let Max speak first, he’s our guest. I liked the word “craftsmen” – you hit the mark.
MS: Thank you for the invitation from your Collettivo, which I follow and appreciate. I’m glad to see these kinds of communities; sharing our work is essential. The production designer is the first to engage with the director, acting as a spokesperson for the other departments. Together, we invent a world to propose to all the department heads. This project was complex: portraying the human mind was a real challenge!
For those who haven’t seen it, the film explores the psyche of a man and a woman who meet, representing different aspects of their personalities through various characters. You had to visualise what comes to life inside the protagonists’ minds…
MS: Exactly. The challenge was to portray the minds of a man and a woman without relying on stereotypes or diminishing either of them. We imagined the man’s mind as more chaotic and cluttered, and the woman’s as naturally more orderly.
What was your initial reaction to the project?
MS: Pure panic! You’re confronted with the entire history of human thought on the subject. When Paolo Genovese called me, as he was talking, I immediately thought of The Brand New Testament. That conversation with him really sparked my interest. Then the work evolved along with the script and our discussions. For the man’s mind, we reached a solution after 4 or 5 proposals, but the woman’s mind was a challenge right up to the end.
The female mind is always the most complicated!
MS: If we could understand it, we’d all be happy! We really wanted to show respect and avoid any misunderstandings. Even choosing the objects to represent their minds was a job in itself – a beautiful one, but demanding.
On set, Max’s work ends and yours begins – but first, there’s collaboration between you.
MS: Let me say this first. The production designer is the first to work with the director to imagine the world of the film, but then the relationship with the cinematographer becomes essential. Their work is crucial in bringing mine to life in the best possible way. The cinematographer must be able to see and light the set correctly. My work doesn’t exist without theirs.
FL: And mine doesn’t exist without yours. When Paolo gave me the script to read, I didn’t understand it straight away. I kept thinking: “How are we going to deal with the voices in their heads? Will it make sense?” I hadn’t even seen Inside Out, which kept being referenced. I was nervous. Usually, when I work with Paolo, I’m enthusiastic from the start – but this time, I didn’t get the film immediately. It was hard, I wasn’t convinced. We had three settings: the real house, and two ‘minds’, which had never been represented before. For The Lions of Sicily, we had historical references, paintings, costumes – but here, nothing. How do you visually create the psyche? The real house was a normal environment, but the minds were complicated. We avoided clichés and tried to imagine something truly real. Whether we pulled it off, I don’t know – but the film works, the story holds up. That’s what matters. The audience response has been extraordinary; the film is really entertaining, so there’s something bigger than us at play. We’re happy to have done our job by supporting the story. To quote a line that isn’t mine: “Production design is the screenplay of light”, and in this film you can clearly see the symbiosis between a production designer and a cinematographer. For me, it’s essential to have a set that reflects what I have in mind. Max imagined the spaces with a huge amount of detail – pages and pages of drawings.
MS: I tried to start from opposites, because that’s what we are – we’re made of contrasts. I imagined the man’s mind as an infinite container, with black and darkness in the background to suggest something without limits – a chaotic place where we pile up emotions, memories, our entire lives. The woman has the same tendency to accumulate, but I represented it through light: darkness and light stand in contrast, but they harmonise – a bit like in the Tao. I used mirrors, reflections, and light play to give the female “psyche” a sense of elegance and order, that unique ability women have to navigate life. The man, on the other hand, experiences life differently – always searching for integration with the universe. The woman has an innate foresight.
I noticed that in the “minds” there are no windows! Max didn’t help you? How did you approach lighting these spaces, Fabrizio? They’re like living rooms, and there’s a brilliant directorial idea: the physical space of the “real” apartment overlaps with that of the minds. When the characters are on the sofa in the apartment, they’re also on the sofa in their minds; when they look out, it’s as if they’re peering from inside the brain. There’s a dialogue between spaces, even in terms of lighting. It’s diegetic light, with no external sources. How did you handle that?
FL: I’m glad you noticed those details. For example, when he looks out from the apartment balcony, in the minds the characters strike a similar pose, as if they were on an imaginary balcony. We could’ve exaggerated those “assists” between scenes, but Paolo, the director, said: “No need – we’ll do it now and then.” He’s good at that: he didn’t want everything to be too obvious or formulaic. It wasn’t necessary for all of Di Leo’s “selves” to stand when he stood, or for everyone to end up in the bathroom if he went there! We had loads of ideas, but we had to choose carefully so as not to confuse the audience. We deliberately didn’t include windows. We wanted these spaces to feel enclosed, like a cranial cavity. With the male mind I could play more with light, using sharper contrasts to build atmosphere. The female mind had four stunning actresses moving freely – I couldn’t say: “Stand still” or “Don’t go there.” They had complete freedom of expression and movement. That’s why I used two cameras. Sometimes Paolo would pick one up just for fun and shoot straight into my lights: “Do you need that one there?”… “Paolo, if it’s there…” (laughs). Sometimes he even moved the lights himself – but that’s fine, we’re a team! The film always comes first. I care more about a line working than about having perfect lighting. For the women’s scenes, we created a soft light ceiling (SkyPanel), divided into zones, to bring in some contrast and depth where needed. There were mirrors and practical lights that helped us a lot. Max and I work very collaboratively: everything we do is for the film, not for the sake of our own departments. If the film didn’t work, even with beautiful cinematography, I’d feel defeated.
MS: I completely agree. That’s exactly how it is.
The “real” part of the film takes place in an apartment, a former laundry room; when I lived in Rome, I stayed in a place just like that. Watching the film, I thought: “Is it really possible they shot all that time in a former laundry room? With all those actors?” Tell me about that location.
MS: It was a studio build, but that wasn’t our first idea. At the start, we wanted to shoot the apartment in a real location, to take advantage of the exterior, the windows, the surrounding context. But then we ran into a problem: we needed the house for too long – we had to go in and out constantly to shoot the “mind” scenes and everything else. In the end, we realised that the most practical and fitting solution for this film was to build it in the studio. Even from a cost perspective, it made more sense. It was a well-considered decision, though Fabrizio wasn’t exactly thrilled about it at first.
FL: True, I’ve always preferred real locations over studio sets. We discussed it at length with Max and Paolo. I was a bit reluctant, I won’t deny it, but I couldn’t force my vision on the project. Paolo explained that he couldn’t find a real location that worked perfectly for the story, and in the end, I understood. So we came up with a solution: a large moving video wall for the window exteriors. For example, when he steps out onto the balcony, half the time it was a real balcony in Testaccio; then we used “plates” – real shots brought into the studio and projected on the video wall. We always had the surrounding terrace environment, a match being played, TVs on, laundry flapping in the wind: it gave the scene an incredible realism. You’d never guess it was filmed in a studio.
You did an extraordinary job – you completely fooled me!
MS: That’s thanks to Fabrizio’s skill, really. At first, I was happy to focus just on the “minds” of the man and woman, but the staging requirements changed everything. We designed the house as a former laundry room, with the bathroom on the opposite side from the bedroom – something quite rare in real flats, where bathrooms are usually near the sleeping area. But that layout was important for the story: from the bathroom, she can see him coming out of the bedroom and going to the fridge. Often it’s the script that guides us. And, as Fabrizio said, we’re in service of the film. At the beginning, I could see the potential in the script, but I didn’t imagine the fluidity that direction and editing would bring. It’s a film of direction and editing, made in a very short timeframe, and the result is exceptional.
FL: The film editor is Consuelo Catucci.
Usually, with real locations, you go in, shoot, and never come back. Was this different?
FL: We started with the house where the two protagonists meet, but it was complicated. They acted without knowing how the “minds” would interact with their situations. Actors like Giallini, Papaleo, Lastrico, and Santamaria for the man’s mind, or Puccini, Fanelli, Giannetta, and Pandolfi for the woman’s mind – they weren’t on set. It was a discovery for us too. We’d ask ourselves, “How do we give them their lines?” There were two acting students hiding under the sofa (laughs), sometimes giving lines, sometimes Di Leo and Pilar Fogliati just imagined them… It was a leap into the unknown, but that’s our job – unpredictable. I’ll tell you something about Perfect Strangers that shows how unpredictable our work is. The film’s about a dinner, and dinners happen at night, right? So we said: let’s shoot from 8 pm to 2 am in a real house. The actors and crew looked at us like we were mad: “Why not just shoot during the day? What’s the point of all these nights?” But we insisted. The reason? The mood. A dinner has to feel real. You can’t eat gnocchi at 10 in the morning and pretend it’s evening. Shooting at night gave the film an authentic atmosphere, and audiences loved it. We felt like we’d hit the jackpot with that choice. Now, with Follemente, we shot in a studio during the day – and it’s working just as well. It proves there’s no fixed formula: every film has its own style, and we have to find it.
The whole film had me laughing out loud, but there are little gems that really make a difference. The first is when he shows up outside her place and finds her in a state of anxiety, switching the lights on and off repeatedly. The first thing he – and the audience – sees of her isn’t her face, but this sequence of flickering lights. It’s a very simple gag, but it immediately sets the tone for the film. Fabrizio, was that in the script or born on set?
FL: It was in the script. And there was a line tied to that moment that really makes people laugh. He’s stunned and thinks: “So this is how it starts? I’m going to see a crazy person?” And then comes the explanation, which is even funnier. I’ll tell you something else: that view from below, with the house and the lights, is completely created with visual effects.
Really?
FL: The little terrace is real, but the house doesn’t exist. It was added in post-production. Max designed the house, and then the VFX team inserted it digitally, exactly as he envisioned it.
MS: Exactly, the communal terrace is there, but the house above it isn’t. I designed the structure, handed the drawings to the VFX team – especially Stefano Leoni – and they inserted everything in post. Even the lighting gag was handled digitally.
So Fabrizio, you didn’t do anything on that shot? (laughs)
FL: Nothing! They call me “il delega”! (laughs)
“Il delega”?!
FL: Exactly! Because I take on a film and then the team does everything themselves! (they laugh)
Speaking of production design, one of the scenes that really had me in stitches was the archive scene. I had tears in my eyes. It’s brilliant: men can’t find the right answers in the present, so they go digging through these old dusty filing cabinets. Was that in the script, or did it come about on set?
MS: That’s all Paolo. He has an incredible narrative intelligence. I watched the film a second time and enjoyed it even more than the first. The first time it made me laugh, the second time I picked up so many more nuances in the dialogue and details. Paolo has this unique ability to create films that could easily be stage plays, but with an incredible cinematic rhythm.
You took the words right out of my mouth – this film, like Perfect Strangers*, could totally work as a stage play, but with the energy and pace of cinema.*
MS: Absolutely. And I’ll tell you more: I already have an idea for the stage set! I’ll talk to Paolo about it!
FL: Perfect Strangers has been touring as a stage play for the third year now. The only time I’ve ever done lighting for the theatre was for Perfect Strangers, when Paolo brought me on board. It was a fascinating experience, because in theatre you light everything once, and then the cast goes on tour and each venue has to adapt the lighting. It’s a completely different experience from cinema. Just imagine how much pressure Paolo was under to make Perfect Strangers 2! But he always resisted. He said, “That’s a gem. Why risk ruining it with a sequel?” And he was right. Some films are meant to remain one of a kind.
Going back to Follemente, there’s a scene that must have been a nightmare to shoot: when all the aspects of the minds meet. It’s visually complex, but it flows so smoothly. How did you handle that sequence?
FL: At the beginning, the house had more defined zones: the table area, the sofa, the kitchen. When all eight characters came together, we had to open up the lighting to avoid shadowed areas and keep the action clear. We made small additions, as if someone had turned on new lights in the space.
Max, what was the most bizarre element Paolo asked you to design?
MS: The great thing is Paolo didn’t give me many instructions. He gave me total freedom, so I had to imagine how to build the spaces and depths myself. I created arches, staircases that lead to nowhere, structures that don’t serve any purpose. All of it to give a sense of incompleteness – as if the mind is always in motion.
And for you, Fabrizio, what was the most challenging lighting request?
FL: The most difficult scene was the one where all the minds come together. We had to create a warm, enveloping atmosphere without flattening the image. At first, we even tried adding some haze to get a more ethereal effect, but then we dialled it back so it wouldn’t weigh the scene down.
How will you remember this set?
FL: It might sound strange, but working on Paolo’s sets feels like being on holiday. It’s always the same group – we’ve known each other for years, friends in every department. I won’t list them all. Paolo has a unique talent: he makes everyone feel at ease, from the actors down, and gets the best out of people without ever creating tension. If someone were to raise their voice, it would feel completely out of place. And that’s essential in our work, because if you’re afraid to make mistakes – like a footballer who freezes or a tennis player with a stiff arm – you can’t perform. But like this, we all give our best. Paolo has great sensitivity, and I once heard him say in an interview: “Maybe sometimes we waste time, because we joke around a bit, but I’m convinced that in the end it pays off.” And he’s right.
MS: It’s like a family – you feel part of a group. But I’m not always Paolo’s production designer; there’s also Chiara Balducci, whom I admire deeply and who has taught me a lot. Paolo makes you feel free, and when you’re free, you work better. That’s one of his great strengths – he truly loves this job.
Max, is there anything I haven’t asked that you’d like to say?
MS: Well, I’d like to add a thank you to Lotus and Paolo Sciarretta, who shares Paolo Genovese’s philosophy and gives us the best conditions to work in. With them there’s a real chemistry, a valuable way of approaching work. The production side is closely connected to the artistic side, and we know every resource will be invested in the film, with great collaboration. Any smart request, if it serves the project, will be heard. Paolo Sciarretta is truly commendable.
Thank you both.
TECHNICAL SPECS
Camera: ARRI ALEXA 35
Lenses: Hawk V-Lite anamorphic
Recording format: 4.6K ARRIRAW
Aspect ratio: 2.39:1
Rental: REC
Post-production: LASER FILM
Steadicam Operator: Luca Dell’Oro
B-camera Operator: Fabio Di Battista
1st AC: Alessandro Montesanti
2nd AC: Alessia Sugamele
Gaffer: Stefano Proietti
Key Grip: Alessio Lampazzi
DIT: Sandro De Frino
Colorist: Cristian Gazzi
