In his forty-year career in cinema, television and theatre, Luca Zingaretti has often portrayed socially engaged characters, beacons of justice and ordinary heroes. He played Don Pino Puglisi (“Come Into the Light”, 2005), Giorgio Perlasca (2002), as well as anti-Mafia judge Paolo Borsellino (2012) and Adriano Olivetti (2013). The Sicilian police commissioner Salvo Montalbano (1999-2021), based on the novels by Andrea Camilleri, enjoyed great popularity for his strong moral compass and gentle heart. His career included challenging roles, as in ‘Boys Cry’ (2018) or in the TV series ‘Il Re’ (2022-24). Zingaretti marks his directorial debut with ‘La casa degli sguardi’, a social drama adapted from the novel of the same name by Daniele Mencarelli. It’s the story of 20-year-old Marcolino, whose challenging path to adulthood has left him in the depths of despair after the loss of his mother. A caring father and a job at the Bambino Gesù hospital in Rome offer him a chance at redemption. Previewed at the 19th Rome Film Fest and the 16th Bif&st in Bari, the film was released in cinemas on 10 April, distributed by Lucky Red.
La casa degli sguardi” has been chosen for the Jubilee Year 2025, mentioned in the volume “Storie e volti di speranza nel cinema” (Stories and faces of hope in cinema) published by the Italian Bishops’ Conference, CEI. It is a story of fall and redemption. You described it as “a film about life, which always finds a reason to keep going, a film about hope and the human being’s ability to get back on his feet.” Could you tell us more about this?
I think that over the last period we lost sight of what it means to be human. We tell ourselves wonderful things all the time, but we have forgotten our fellow beings. We have ceased to take care of each other, to be kind in the noblest sense of the word. From this point of view, the film is an appeal to be considerate and kind to those in our proximity. I am humbled and delighted that my film has been chosen as the cinematic reference for the Jubilee.
The film is a dramatic depiction of a twenty-year-old’s descent into despair when he can’t find the strength to ask for help and struggles to find motivation. How did you develop the character’s story?
The narrative of rebirth focuses on Marcolino, a young man grappling with existential angst, which he feels deeply. He wrestles with suffering. This is primarily due to the fact that he lives in a society that has demonised pain and whose message is that pain must be constantly and always avoided.
There is one absolute truth: suffering is part of life, just like joy and happiness. Without suffering there would be no happiness, and vice versa.
We should therefore accept it as part of our lives. Furthermore, we tend to forget a great quality of suffering: catharsis. The experience of suffering allows us time to process it and make a new start, having been freed from its negative aspects.
The release of ‘La casa degli sguardi’ in cinemas is scheduled a few weeks after the French film ‘The Quiet Son’, starring Vincent Lindon. Both movies depict a society without role models for the younger generations, while reaffirming the centrality of the father figure. What are your thoughts on this?
The father’s role is a major theme in my film. However, I will make a premise: whereas the role of the mother follows the laws of nature – the child needs the maternal warmth and loving gaze, sustenance and caress – the father’s role is marked by greater complexity. It is certainly linked to historical circumstances.
Indeed, as a child, my mother would often say to me, “Tonight I will tell your father.” If my wife were to say such a thing to our daughters today, they would laugh in her face. Her role is no longer perceived as being that “authoritative.”
That’s why, in my film, I imagined a father who, in his simplicity – not forgetting his working-class background – seems to say to his son: “I honestly don’t know how to help you with your problems, because I’m a simple man and because it was your mother who took care of you most of the time. But remember this: whenever you need me, wherever you are, I’ll be there for you. I am here for you. You can count on me.” This man is teaching his son the lessons of his own life. He teaches him how to live by example. Together with the other screenwriters, we developed the father’s profession by imagining him as a tram driver: it’s a metaphor because a tram has a fixed route; the same route over and over again for those who need it. I believe that having a father, mother or partner who says ‘I am always there for you’ is the greatest and most beautiful gift you can receive in life.
Employment is another important theme: it offers the possibility of redemption. How important is it to create opportunities for young people?
Having a job is not just about earning a living – although it’s a lot – there is much more to it than that. It has a redemptive power, because having a job is what roots a person in their society and identifies them as human beings. That’s why not being able to find a job, or losing a job, is so devastating. It makes a person feel disconnected from society. Human beings are social animals. They need a role. At first, Marcolino refuses the job at the Bambino Gesù hospital because he has panic attacks. But it’s ultimately this job that gives him the impetus to move on and get his life back on track.
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- (Foto Duccio Giordano)
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- (Foto Duccio Giordano)
‘La casa degli sguardi’ is also a film about poetry. Marcolino is a talented writer. Do you feel there is a need to (re)affirm the value of poetry? In these chaotic times, have we lost sight of beauty?
Poetry has most certainly been marginalised in our society. Reading a poem requires time to abandon oneself to its evocations, just like boredom, after all. Paolo Sorrentino often says that the real privilege nowadays is to be bored, and I agree with him. Poetry forms part of that celebrated beauty that will ultimately save the world. This is something I firmly believe.
Our life must not only revolve around activities that do not involve a moment of contemplation. Contemplation is as necessary as breathing, or we will end our journey on Earth having missed out on the most interesting part.
Without disclosing any details, I will only say that the final scene of your film has a strong poetic note: father and son exchange touching glances and whispers. Is this a tribute to Neorealism?
It was not my intention to pay homage to Italian Neorealism. I just wished to put the spotlight back on the social classes that were often portrayed in the past, especially in post-war Italian movies. I admire people who manage to make ends meet with great sacrifices, with dignity and joy, and with a strong moral compass that they would never betray. They are also very generous in their willingness to share, much more so than those who have greater opportunities than they do. As for the final scene, I didn’t want a reassuring, traditional happy ending. The dawn symbolises rebirth, a new beginning, without excluding the future, which is uncertain. I enjoyed telling the story of the moment when Marcolino, after seeing a mother taking care of her child, was overcome with a yearning for affection and protection, a need for a hug, and so decides to see his father. I thus pieced together the image of father and son reunited in a still-sleeping city at the break of dawn.
