guarda il sole, amore mio

Paolo is a 22-year-old boy and experiences a constant sense of inadequacy and ineptitude, due to his complex relationship with his mother, unaware of his homosexuality, and to the conflict he has with his hometown, Lanciano. Driven by a great desire for emancipation, he decides not to give up and to interview those who have remained in the province and continue to fight just like him.

A conversation on a dating app alternates with images of a body. Maybe it's just a preparation for an erotic encounter.

During a scorching summer in the mountains of southern Italy, young, shy Luca develops an attraction for Valerio, an older boy with a passion for motorcycles. The two meet in secret, in the quiet of the countryside just outside the small town where they live. Chasing a desire that slowly escalates into obsession, Luca is forced to come to terms with the blurred boundary between pleasure and violence.

It's Serena's wedding day. The girl is worried about the absence of Nicola, her brother. Turns out she doesn't know that this day, which is so important to Serena, is probably not so joyful for Nicola.

Starting from archival images (from different eras and formats) of the San Francisco neighborhood in Bilbao — its streets, nightlife, clubs, and discos that no longer exist — this film essay explores the idea of a queer space. It invites a perhaps utopian journey through places of sexual dissidence, sketching a history of cruising and gay desire in the city.

An home movie documentary about a young man with a camera who tries to recount and reframe a pivotal moment in his childhood: the death of his mother. An intimate and personal story about what remains of that mother-son relationship, now marked by an unbridgeable distance and an absence with which it is necessary to come to terms.

Kath, an Italian-Filipino woman, works remotely as a digital content moderator in Genoa. When she learns that a colleague in the Philippines has taken his own life—crushed by the very job that fills her own days (the endless cataloging of beheadings, torture, live-streamed suicides, and child abuse)—she initially takes two days off, then extends her break, no longer convinced she can bring herself to return to her terminal. A massage appointment introduces her to Jenny, a Filipino woman who tends to people's bodies as a side job. That scheduled hour evolves into something more—an encounter neither woman expected. Each carrying her own burdens and losses, they finally find a way, together, to stop being invisible. The screen, once capable only of wounding them, now reflects a new image: a redemptive possibility for healing.