I would like to share my two days at the 82nd Venice International Film Festival. Absolutely exceptional, and I want to explain why.
I was invited to attend the premiere of the Netflix series Il mostro, which I shot with Stefano Sollima. I gladly accepted, not only because the series was a long, demanding and intense job, but also, as always, an inspiring one, guided by a director I now know very well, with whom I have shared countless working hours and many successfully completed projects. A director who has always led me into unknown and wonderfully dangerous territories, with results that have often surprised even me.
I was also asked if I wanted to attend the test screening in the Casinò theatre the night before, and I immediately said yes for two reasons: by being there a day earlier I might have had the chance to see a film or two (my curiosity was huge) and, above all, to make sure that the quality of the screening was good or, as I hoped, excellent.
I arrived at the Lido of Venice on the morning of 3 September (day 8 of the Venice Biennale Cinema). I had managed to book a ticket for the screening of The Voice of Hind Rajab, about which I knew little apart from the subject, and I feared I might be somewhat disappointed. The subject is extremely difficult, dealing with an unspeakable tragedy that weighs on our hearts every day. But after seeing the film I didn’t speak for hours, I didn’t want to see anything else, and as I left the theatre I met Nicola Giuliano, producer and friend, in tears, like many others. The film must be seen, it is beautiful.
After hours with my heart still full of emotions and feeling tiny and insignificant compared to the greatness of that film and the History we are all living through, at 9:15 pm I met a team of wonderful friends and collaborators at the Palazzo del Casinò for the screening check.
We had 25 minutes available, 20 minutes to select sequences and 5 minutes to comment and make adjustments.
…Usually there is hardly anything you can do, only the sound can be adjusted, a little louder or a little softer.
With me are Franco Casellato, head of post-production, Red (Andrea Baracca), colourist, Clelio Benevento, editor, and Francesco Tumminello, sound mixer.
Parte la proiezione e il gelo cala sulla sala… è molto, molto brutta.
I start pacing up and down: the emergency lights, in the dark, illuminate the theatre far too much. The lights marking the steps of the raised stalls shine directly onto the screen, and other lights signalling the exits behind the audience are so bright that they cast the shadows of the stair railings onto the screen.
I go over to Red and ask him if we can adjust some of the projection settings: the blacks were horribly washed out and in Il mostro there are really many dark scenes. Franco Casellato comes over and says, “What shall we do? I know this DCP by heart and I’ve never seen it look this bad.”
Also present were the Festival’s head of projection technology, Netflix UK’s head of technical operations, Claire Lester, and a Netflix projection engineer complete with a device to calibrate the screening. Or rather, complete with a black case containing a device I had never seen before and which he had no chance to use, since he too was not allowed to touch the projection.
The lights come on. We ask for the intensity of the emergency lights flooding the screen to be drastically reduced. The reply is:
1 – that many screenings have already taken place in that theatre and no one has complained;
2 – that safety cannot be tampered with;
3 – that if there is a problem, it lies with the DCP, our copy (I should point out that only shortly before, the Festival’s head of technical operations – the very same person making this statement – had congratulated me on the beauty of the work, which he had watched in its entirety…).
Red immediately snaps back: the DCP is perfect, the problem is the theatre! And he pulls out his phone with a message from the director of a fine series previously screened, complaining about the poor projection. The British are stunned and silent. Franco Casellato, with enviable Anglo-Saxon composure, calmly says: “All I can do is write an official email stating that the technical screening check has failed. We request changes to the theatre’s emergency lights and a new check tomorrow morning before the press screening. You must work overnight to improve the projection. Our duty is to inform the producer and director of the situation and request the Festival director’s intervention, because under these conditions we cannot guarantee a proper screening.”
The sound, fortunately, is fairly good. At least that.
We leave angry and worried. It’s 10 pm, we haven’t eaten anything and decide to go for a pizza near our hotel. On the way back we run into Lorenzo Mieli and Valentina Avenia (the series’ producer and creative producer), and of course we tell them everything. Worried, they head off.
During our dinner Franco informs us that Alberto Barbera, the Festival director, has been contacted by Lorenzo Mieli and Stefano Sollima, and they confirm a second check at 8:15 am. At 9 am there will be the press screening.
An uneasy dinner, we talk at length, finding it hard to tell how much depends on the projection quality and how much on the theatre’s conditions. All the projectors at the Festival have been switched to laser, for energy saving, but we are not convinced of their quality. In all the labs they are DLP, not laser. And then that theatre on the 3rd floor of the Casinò is dismantled every year after the Biennale and reassembled the following year, so it changes – or may change – every year.
Thursday 4th, 8 am, the day of the premiere, we are all back in front of the theatre, including Netflix’s technical managers. The engineer is there too, with his black case, and with a dejected look confirms that he has not been allowed to touch the projector.
The step lights have been dimmed, but not the emergency exit lights.
I turn towards the projector and notice, only then, that the soundproof glass is very, very dirty, and I immediately ask for it to be cleaned. They grumble… and reply, “let’s see the screening first”… I answer the Festival technician, who wears glasses: “Would you watch it with dirty lenses? Don’t you clean them from time to time?”
They call someone to clean the glass. Meanwhile the screening starts, as time is short. It’s a bit better, but there are still annoying shadows on the screen coming from the emergency exit lights that haven’t been dimmed. We ask for them to be gelled, and they reply: “Maybe… if we get permission.” Another appeal to Barbera… we hope.
They show us three different gamma settings on the projector – 2.3, 2.6, 2.8: the best is 2.6, the one they had already set, the others are either too dark or too bright. But we are still not satisfied, the image just isn’t there.
The journalists enter the theatre, I stay. I watch a woman who, with glass cleaner and a large squeegee, cleans the glass from the outside using a ladder and… from the inside too! Good.
The press screening begins. Franco, Red and I look at each other… well, it already seems better, but it is still not what we know it could be. Still that light along the edges… from behind, those shadows in the dark that disturb.
We leave the theatre, each going our own way but staying in touch by phone. Around midday Franco updates us: Barbera has given the go-ahead to gel the exit lights.
2:45 pm. We enter the theatre for the official screening: 4 episodes, 3 hours and 40 minutes, the theatre is full.
We look behind us: the emergency lights have been dimmed with a blue gel.
3:05 pm. The screening begins, the theatre is finally completely dark… within moments I realise – and share the joy with Clelio Benevento, seated next to me – that the screening is now truly beautiful!
6:40 pm. The screening ends, with much applause in the theatre and, above all, we are overjoyed to have seen our work with everyone in the proper conditions for an international premiere at the Venice Biennale Cinema!
A reflection for me and for everyone: screenings can and must always be good, but at Festivals they must be perfect.
One can and must insist to the very end – it is worth it!
Being in a group helps enormously.
We are “condemned” to fight for our work to the very end, with kindness and determination!
E soprattutto andiamo a vedere The Voice of Hind Rajab. Mi ha spaccato il cuore ma mi ha fatto capire ancora una volta quanto può essere importante fare cinema.
