There is a place where souls wait, with no memory, before being born. A multinational managed by aliens decides who is to be born and when: the scheme involves the exploitation, control and complete globalization of planet Earth. A starving dustman named Gennaro Esposito, a character who is inspired by Toto's poem “La Livella” (The Spirit Level), played by Patrizio Oliva, will change things; at first imperceptibly, then ever more forcibly. The alien who has ferried Gennaro to this place and who supports the human race, helps Gennaro and he, with his ignorance, candour and innocence will be able to subvert the mechanism perfected in order to subjugate the souls, by helping them to remember and by infecting them like a virus, the virus of freedom.
The child in front of the mirror looked at himself and dreamt of becoming a world champion.... Surrounded by misery, abandon, solitude. Visions of a far-off Italy, of “Napoli Milionaria”, “Roma città aperta”, and “Miracolo a Milano”. Desires paved with spices, poverty's decorum, the impossible. A neighbourhood alive with honest projects, surrounded by sweat and toil. An Italy that is warm and attentive, where hope did not give birth only to ruin and solitude. Pizza, paisà, o sole mio....so what? Are Big Brother contestants, starlets and television dramas better than this? Is it better to have your rights abolished, privacy violated and no work? This form of progress leads to oblivion of the past and the polistyrene of the future, cells of plexiglass where you can mortgage your soul. And in this no man’s land the child who became a world champion decides to continue dreaming. With the same irresponsibility, with the same determination. But it's a different kind of dream, because life does not end this way. The set of an independent film gives birth to a new fairytale, one of a man who stakes his all with the same humility and speed as he had had in his youth. The “hawk” who would fly around boxing rings across the world, decides to challenge the mystery of images with the exuberance for which he is well known. And he brings with him colours, humanity and candour, all of which are priceless. “Gennarino” is his role in the fantasy “The Flute” by Luciano Capponi. Smiles and drama are his tools when on screen. His name: Patrizio Oliva.
The unforgettable boxer with a brilliant career. As an amateur boxer he was Italian Champion in 1976 – 1977 – 1978, European Champion in 1978, gold medallist at the Moscow Olympics in 1980, receiving an award as the Olympic Games' best boxer. On turning professional he was Italian Champion in 1981, European Champion in 1983 and World Champion in 1986.
He has taken part in numerous television programmes, appearing as a singer too. He made a guest appearance in three episodes of “Un posto al sole”.
His debut in theatre comes about in 2013 in the play “2 ore all'alba” by Luciano Capponi, on tour with over 70 repeat performances.
His first film appearance is in “Butterfly Zone” by Luciano Capponi.
“The Flute” is his first film as leading actor.
Telling a story without being afraid of pauses, maintaining a constant and leisurely rhythm and never yielding to compromises with video clips, ads and television. Protecting the actor and nurturing “emotions” and not “reason”. The dolly flows, the trolley is light. Hand held cameras are as imperceptible as a barely perceived sigh. I am here referring to Language, not to the story, because we know that editing gives the film its body and soul. And in particular its rhythm and hopefully even its sense of wonder. The tale of our unwitting hero, Gennaro Esposito, comes to life thanks to this apparently merely technical structure. He is mediterranean, the rest is surreal and arcane. Stylistically, it will be in the colours of a tale that this marriage will come about.
And so, here we are again.
Caged, squeezed and mutilated by “how it should be done”.
Made to believe that a film is a story that must be told and above all “understood”.
Putting the director and the author on trial.
Criticising the film because that's what everyone does.
Praising it, if obliged to by some higher (God?) power.
But there have only ever been two keys: major and minor, there's no escaping this fact.
And a film is, first and foremost, “the emotion it provokes”.
Volumes that chase one another, not Euclidean geometry.
If someone is able to explain a painting by Picasso to me by using Euclidean geometry, then I'll pay for them to eat out for a year.
The same thing happens with God: does he exist or not? Everyone is looking for him but no-one really believes in him: they want to explain him!
The most fertile man on earth must have been St. Thomas, because his progeny proliferates and can be found in the multitude of intellectuals on this planet.
But let's get back to the director's notes, as if I could have forgotten them.
The Flute is inspired by and, why not, draws strength from a single event: the transformation of a cross into a musical instrument, the flute (what else?).
The word of God becomes God's music.
This image sums everything up: what more is there to understand?
This makes sense if REASON has not cancelled out INTUITION once and for all.
In my opinion “cogito...ergo non sum” , I have proof of this but it isn't intellectual proof.
I have chosen to tell a fairytale (I don't understand why it should be called fantasy) without the hysterical narrative that prevails in films nowadays, without the pain of little private stories, the tears, the crude representation of contemporaneity in the name of all that is politically correct.
Have we all gone mad?
I advise my son to read Peter Pan and I calmly await the moment when he will have to watch a television drama or programme because I know he will be able to defend himself.
We're standing, my friends, on the edge of an abyss, please take note.
For this reason, and I still haven't forgotten the director's notes, I have told a story in which even our “afterlife” is affected by a form of globalization: metaphor or reality?
We should all have some “common sense” and simplicity therapy and while we're at it mutual respect therapy.
Because a film does not mean success, the glory of bright lights, being a star and screaming hordes of fans; a lot of sheep stuffed by the “system”.
A film is simply a message, a sigh, an insight.
Can we bring ourselves to consider this poetical possibility.
Or would we prefer to leave our children with the abomination of Big Brother contestants, starlets and other such trash.
Or maybe an ignorant footballer's stupid sneer; bad mannered, violent yet idolized.
Or the obtuse chatter about why the referee can't use the slow motion replay during the game.
Or referees good faith?
Well we're fooling ourselves seeing as we all know how things stand.
Do you know what the CENSORS asked me?
(Yes, censorship does exist in Italy).
I was asked if we mistreated the flies in the film.
I have a document to prove it and witnesses.
We've already fallen into the abyss.
Do you like life the way it is?
Or is there something wrong.
I will tell of this and much, much more in The Flute. With the help of Gennaro Esposito, the dustman.
Of an Italy that no longer exists, that could explode or maybe be reborn.
At the end of the film let's avoid any formalities.
I'm not provoking, just joking.
Is this legal?
The Flute is an independent production, but it is certainly not free from censorship, bureaucracy and the state's overall presence, scattered with infinite rules, codicils, impositions and taxes.
But, we will still say that it is independent.
It is however, “not dependent” due to some undeniable facts:
1. All those taking part have done so without being paid, becoming, in effect, producers. A strange alliance this, made possible by an unregulated common aspiration and laced with trust and, believe it or not, by ideals.
2. This film integrally reflects the creative aspect and is does not concern itself with imposed market genres, nor so-called public taste which, one could say, is often defined “top down”.
3. We have ignored closed, insurmountable doors and those methods that strangle free enterprise.
4. This is not the intimist, neurotic, dark, hard story which these times seem to require. We have dared to tell a positive tale in a world which is exploding. Perhaps this is just what was needed, who knows.
We believe that this and much more can be defined as “INDEPENDENT”. Here we are then, despite all the obstacles. It's a bit like Zeman's Pescara getting into the Premier League. Seeing as we can't sell our Stars because they are trapped in the film, we believe that ours will be a good season. Our desire is to give merit its due and space to new faces and this is the reason for our not calling on the abilities of the Maradonas, the Gomezes, or other actors of that calibre. A breath of fresh air. We're obviously not talking about evaluating the technical and poetical quality of the film, but its content and novelty. Don't you think that this deserves some attention? The film is, of course, Italian, but, you will find that it is exportable. Take note. We can guarantee that children will love it and the people will too. We've tested it thoroughly. We know that we're at the mercy of the press and the mass media in general. But, for once, can't we just smile and be moved even if it's not “politically correct”? Or do we agree with the politician who proposes to remove the words mother and father from documents, replacing them with parent 1 and 2? Well, whatever you think, thank-you.
On behalf of independence.
And so, Gennaro
with a simple flute
and his heart's gentle touch,
in the nothingness bordering his soul
made the souls recover their memory.
not the details,
but at least the dignity
of their human dimension....
before their birth.
Gennaro does not know
that the equilibrium
of a simple man,
was all that was missing.