With the help of animation and archival footage, Pessina offers a fresh tribute to the art of cinema, weaving together the story of the legendary director and the historic Milanese theater, now closed. Through personal memories and reflections on the magic of the big screen, the documentary captures the enchantment of those who make cinema.
In the documentary L’incanto, you use different directorial styles (interviews, clips from old films, and animation). What motivated this choice?
Directorial style is rarely planned at a desk; it’s the style of an author, their ‘own’ style. My way of telling stories is precisely to shuffle the cards, trying to use the type of language that best conveys a specific idea. At the heart of this work, of course, is research; I didn’t want to passively tell a story through static interviews. Moreover, my long collaboration with Twin Studio, my production company and creative agency, has taught me to pay close attention to and respect potential viewers. The visual treatment of L’incanto was born from the need to create an immersive cinematic experience, capable of evoking, with a contemporary language, the emotional and poetic power of Pupi Avati’s cinema. When we asked ourselves how to linguistically convey the concept of “enchantment,” the natural answer was to use animation. Iconic sequences from Avati’s films are reinterpreted through rotoscoping, with original illustrations by artist Elisabetta Bianchi. The animation is not just to ‘decorate’ the image but to create new visions and personal pathways to the wonder those films inspired in us.
In the film, the interview with Pupi Avati feels intimate, as if you were with a loved one rather than a great master of cinema. What kind of relationship do you share, and what atmosphere did you want to convey in the film?
I have a long working relationship with Pupi, having worked alongside him for almost 18 years, and I’ve learned everything from him. We also share a distant familial connection, one of those relationships that would normally be lost over generations. Our relationship was the narrative engine of this documentary, alongside Uncle Aldo, who connects us to Cinema Odeon. Indeed, the fate of Cinema Odeon was the narrative spark for the film. Moreover, Pupi is an irresistible storyteller. Combining the intimacy, the family tie, and his natural gift for storytelling, the final puzzle of the film was gradually built, through the various interviews.
Without the theater, cinema as we know it wouldn’t exist. In 1929, in the heart of Milan, the Odeon Cinema opened, a déco masterpiece designed by Aldo Avati and Giuseppe Laveni. Today the Odeon is gone, but its story comes alive in Tomaso Pes...
Which Pupi Avati film has affected you the most?
Many of his films hold a special place in my heart. Of course, starting with the first ones I worked on, particularly Fratelli e sorelle and Magnificat, which represented my true discovery of cinema – of ‘making cinema.’ That very special enchantment that happens when the director shouts: “Action!” And then there are Pupi’s more ‘classic’ films, above all Gita scolastica and Storia di ragazzi e ragazze, which still move and excite me every time I watch them. Not to mention his celebrated Gothic Padano films, above all the masterpiece La casa dalle finestre che ridono. I still remember when my father showed it to my sister and me as if it were a secret. We couldn’t sleep for weeks!
What did the closure of Cinema Odeon mean to you? And what is your fondest memory in that theater?
The closure of the Odeon was a particular pain. That cinema, in my childhood memories, was a bit like family glory. When my grandmother took us there, it was as if she were bringing out the good china, the one for special occasions. But beyond my personal memories, the closure of that cinema triggers a fundamental question for us Milanese and beyond: what is our vision of the city? What do we want from our city? Another luxury shopping center?
When was your “miracle night,” the moment you realized this would become your work?
Perhaps I truly understood that this would be my work, and above all my destiny, the first time I was on a Pupi set and saw him directing. There, I understood what the director’s craft was, something I knew nothing about. I discovered that it was a mysterious and wonderful profession, and I wanted it to be mine.
