J1

Here we go. Six months in the making, I would have thought it at least would have tiny arms, a Humpty Dumpty of sorts. Alas it does not, at least it's very thin, you gotta know what matters in a baby.

And so I am in that place again. A foot on the door and a bag that's way to heavy, just as much as my thoughts. This is a dream coming true don't get me wrong. 18 months in the States. Sometimes I go around flaunting my achievement and people feeling my excitement go "how many years are you allowed to stay?" and I beam "18 months!" and they spit "oh, just that. I would have assumed way more by looking at you". And they just don't know that when I left for LA the first time in May 2011, with cardboard bags and an address scrambled on a piece of paper, I didn't know what the heck I was doing, I didn't know where my crazy, unconditional hope would take me. And most importantly they haven't been in the States, they don't know how it works, they haven't been at American Consulates where 1 out of 3 people petitioning for visas were denied, in front of my own eyes, just when I was about to go ask for mine. It's just 18 months alright but it is a huge achievement. And yes I'm patting my own shoulder right now, as much as it is inconvenient for my back pain. Six whole months of continuously providing documents and answering questions, most would have given up several times by now. A dream come true indeed, so why is it so hard to go meet it?

I'll admit it, I tend to like dwelling in nostalgia, I'm a 19th century troubled writer born in the wrong time-space continuum. So I'm dwelling away. Surprisingly this has mostly to do with my parents. They are not getting any younger and I hate being so far away from them. And this is where it gets twisty because I also LOVE being far away from them. Meaning having my own space, not having to listen when I don't want to and overall just having a chance to breath and be my own way. I guess it always just boils down to one big truth, always present, always valid, LA and Rome are just so fucking far away. Too much.

...

Meanwhile check in has opened and I got myself an aisle emergency exit stretch your legs seat! I'm taking off in 24 hours!! Forget my parents! WOOT WOOT!!

- Just kidding -

PS: Don't you hate that airlines keep the right to change your seat at the last minute for whatever reason? I fought for this semi uncomfortness and I'm going to bite you BA, hands off!

Back to packing.

My least favorite game...

Rome Film Festival Diary - Sunday

Sunday like it’s a working day. Interesting. Early rise, but this time car drive instead of metro ride to the Auditorium, makes it feel less worky-ish already. I was in for a movie called Let me in. I found out while lining outside the theater, five minutes before the screening, that it was a horror. I gasped. Looked around for some sign that would suggest me the way. Switch to another movie? Get in?

I’m not too fond of horror movies and here’s why. There’s two categories for these type of films:

First. Very splattery and mostly aiming at you getting sick to your stomach, with blood geysers, black vomits siphoned around the screen and whatnot. Not that much horrific, just stupid, I mean what am I watching? Don’t get me wrong, one of my favorite directors is Quentin Tarantino, I got nothing against blood fountains, it just depends of what use you make of them. I once was so stupid as to agree to watch Silent Hill. Oh come on… The possessed nurses from a Lady Gaga video are supposed to be scary? The men without the heads, the big walking turkeys? What do I make of them? And don’t get me started on The Final Destination 3D. What was that even supposed to be? This guy’s interiors are splattered all over your third dimensional aura and pieces of a vehicle fly over your head, along with knives, nails, drills, snakes and shattered glasses. What is this, Disneyland? What am I, four? How in the world do adult people believe that that could be remotely scary for other adults? I won’t even go into the Saw franchise cause I’ve never seen one of those abominations and nor I plan to, ever.

Second. Dark and eerie, this type of movies plan to have you worried about the littlest swish in the room. They would like to mess with your head, but most of the times just fail miserably as even my couch can predict what’s behind that door, or around that next corner. The only good examples I have for this category are The Blair Witch Project, which I watched when I was 14 and in full hormonal swirl, and Scream, which was still predictable but nicely, ironically done. Other than that we face a full blown dullness. The Ring. What was scary about that? The dirty hair maybe. Should I be worried to answer my phone after I watch it? Yeah right.

Either way the point is these movies are not scary. They are either disgusting, in the first case, or boring, in the second.

I find a lot more adrenaline, and do get scared exponentially more (I’m really just a big chicken shit after all) by thriller movies. More so if they have a spiritual side to them. Let’s try with The Sixth Sense. Not much of an advertised scare but it slowly builds on you; sometimes even after all these years when I wake up in the middle of the night to go pee I’m afraid I’ll meet the dead lady playing with the thermostat in the hallway. Here’s another thing, I bought this cool App from iTunes that records any noise that occurs while you sleep. I have a teeth condition that I want to keep an ear on, also I’ve been told I talk a lot in my sleep and no one ever volunteered to tape me, so I decided I was going to do it myself. Anyhow, I bought the App something along the lines of 10 days ago and I have yet to use it because I’m afraid during the night it’ll pick up noises that I don’t want to ever know were whooshed in my room, like spirits talking, like in the movie.

I say if a story sticks with you for so many years and has you still a little conscious about stuff, than that was a scary story, nothing less.

Well the film I saw Sunday mostly belonged to the first category, kind of sugarcoated though, I mean just the right amount of blood was in it. It tells the story of a teenage girl vampire (not heavily made-up, greatly coiffed, super fit and sparkly) that develops a deep friendship with a troubled kid her same age. It wasn’t scary, not at all, but it was an interesting tale of friendship. Yes, the horror side of the film didn’t impress me, the relationship side did. It comes from Cloverfield’s director and it’s ok to pass a couple hours.

Which is exactly what I did. After that I was out to a bunch of press stuff. First Matt Reeves conferenced about making the movie, and being best friends with J.J. Abrams. I hate you am so happy for you.

Then walking around the Festival I saw Valeria was doing an interview show, so I went in, and ended up staying there for more than an hour.

Finally two well regarded Italian actors, Margherita Buy and Silvio Orlando, were doing a joint symposium to discuss their careers. I was curious about what they had to say, but they actually said close to nothing, except how lovely it was to work with one another. Cut the crap, I’m going home.