Un grande fumettista, un regista emergente, quattro racconti che han cresciuto una generazione. I disegni di Andrea Pazienza sono un inno giovanile, un ricordo di un movimento immobile, denuncia di un’inerzia mentale che nel ’77 italiano si maschera da rivoluzione, e da questi Renato De Maria muove i primi passi nella creazione di Paz!, scritto a sei mani con Ivan Cotroneo e Francesco Piccolo.

Le occupazione, i capelli spettinati, i poster dei primi gruppi punk, le stanze condivise, grida di ribellione in una Bologna ora vuota, ora claustrofobica. Andrea Pazienza, la rockstar del fumetto italiano, regala a De Maria una città-ispirazione e tre personaggi simbolo, testimoni dell’eccezionale fermento artistico e mentale dell’autore: l’emarginato Pentothal (Claudio Santamaria), profondamente depresso ed assolutamente inalterabile, perso tra i fermenti rivoluzionari con cui non riesce a stare al passo e a cui chiede di fare un po’ di silenzio, chè non sopporta più queste “stronzate, a mille!”; Fiabeschi (Max Mazzotta), mantenuto dalla fidanzata ed iscritto al DAMS solo per fuggire all’arruolamento obbligatorio; Zanardi (Flavio Pistilli), giovane feroce e distruttivo nelle cui vene il sangue è mescolato all’odio. Durante la loro giornata-tipo questi tre animali in gabbia si guardano da lontano, condividendo luoghi ed avvenimenti, senza incontrarsi pur vivendo nello stesso appartamento, simbolo dell’improduttività che i tre, e tanti oltre loro, condividono.

La macchina da presa di De Maria si muove sinuosa e la sceneggiatura scongiura tempi morti: ogni singolo minuto è testimone della volontà dell’autore, ogni azione è pensata ora per divertire, ora per toccare l’intimità del singolo spettatore, anche grazie all’ausilio di una colonna sonora che spazia dal punk made in Italy dei CCCP alle interpretazioni di Riccardo Sinigallia, dal beat di DJ Sensei alla potenza eversiva degli Area. La musica fa da sfondo morbido e pungente ai monologhi urlati di un Pentothal perso in universi onirici; ai silenzi di Zanardi ed accompagna Fiabeschi nelle sue sventure più che meritate. Oltre i protagonisti, sono ritratti con estrema velocità ma funzionale cura i personaggi minori, e le semplici comparse hanno un peso considerevole: Giovanni Lindo Ferretti, leader dei CCCP negli ’80 e dei CSI nei ’90, interpreta l’Uomo Ombra (anche detto “il masticatore”), con cui Fiabeschi avrà un breve dialogo; Iaia Forte veste i panni della preside vessata da Zanardi; Giorgio Tirabassi suona una chitarra triste e scordata sotto i portici del DAMS, chiedendo due spiccioli. Indimenticabile la presenza di Antonio Rezza, accompagnato da Franki Hi-Nrg nei sogni e nelle paure di Pentothal.

Paz! risulta un caldo omaggio ad Andrea Pazienza, alla sua vena artistica e trasgressiva; a Bologna, città del regista; ai giovani di ogni anno ed ogni luogo, perchè in fondo ci si mette poco a dimostrarsi un po’ Pentothal, un po’ Fiabeschi, un po’ Zanardi: il film di De Maria non consiste in una nuova denuncia degli ideali urlati nel ’77, non è un ricordo storico, ma tende a dimostrare una continuità di comportamenti, di sofferenze e disagi che, esistiti nel passato, ripercorrono nel presente e saranno ritrovabili nel futuro. I personaggi di Paz! e la loro Bologna viaggiano negli anni e tra le generazioni, riproponendosi automaticamente.

“polaroid – un blog alla radio” – S21E29

“polaroid – un blog alla radio” – S21E29

“Falling in love is the hardest thing”, suggerisce il cantautore svedese Erik Halldén nel suo nuovo singolo in apertura di scaletta. Eppure, qualcuno potrebbe ribattere che si tratta di una tesi in totale contraddizione con la musica stessa che Erik Halldén scrive da sempre e che da sempre suoniamo anche in questo programma. Ovunque vi troviate tra i due lati di questa barricata, ecco qui nel…

View On WordPress

“polaroid – un blog alla radio” – S21E28

“polaroid – un blog alla radio” – S21E28

Chissà a cosa serve un cuore, si domandano gli Smile nel nuovo singolo qui in apertura di puntata. Forse a riempirsi di emozioni per tutta la meravigliosa nuova musica che c’è ogni giorno là fuori, potremmo suggerire noi. Se cercate un podcast fatto con il cuore, pieno di novità indiepop e indie rock, nonché di un’adeguata quantità di brindisi, avete trovato quello che fa per voi. Aggiungete…

View On WordPress

Joe Strummer at Piazza Maggiore, Bologna Italy 1st June 1980.

I’ve had my share of awful transit stories – missed flights in the Arabian Gulf, buses taking 36 rather than 24 hours in Africa, sitting for three hours in between two obese men on a small car seat in India, and the infamous never-ending saga of getting into and out of Angel Falls. However, I never quite broke down like I did this past weekend in Northern Italy.

The trip had a foundation of mistaken itineraries and so I shouldn’t have been too surprised at what would end up happening. You see, I had to be in Austria for a week of work training, but some colleagues and I decided to go to Venice and Ljubljana for a few days before it. So, I emailed my travel team and said, “Please book me Abu Dhabi to Venice and then Munich to Abu Dhabi” and I gave them specific flight times and numbers. They responded saying “attached is itinerary as requested, booked but not issued, please confirm for issuance.” I of course responded “Get it!”.

Only about a month later did I realize that they had accidentally booked Abu Dhabi to Venice and then Venice to Abu Dhabi… and I didn’t correct it.

I tell myself that I’ll get it changed later and I take off for the first flights out: Abu Dhabi to Amsterdam to Venice. I have a short layover in Amsterdam so I run through the airport and am lucky to make it to the gate 20 mins before it closes. However, my boarding pass won’t work.

Confused, I ask, “What’s wrong?” and they respond “We thought you wouldn’t make your connection so we changed your ticket.”
Flabbergasted I demand “But I did make it- let me on…”
“Oh but your baggage won’t- that’s why…”
“I’m ONLY carrying on!!!”

And so it continues as I glare unendingly at this not-too-understanding KLM representative. She explains that they’ve rebooked me on a plane nine hours later… but that I can maybe get on the back of the waitlist of one earlier. No, even though it was their fault for pre-maturely rebooking me, I can’t get priority on the earlier one. I sulk away- with my angrily demanded €10 for food and drink and €50 voucher for future flights (which are so hard to use I know I never will), and quickly spend the money on a beer and a sandwich- at 8:30am.

I do end up getting on the earlier flight via waitlist- some Nigerian guy brought his bag to the gate with his friend but then disappeared. The friend put up a fight for the plane to wait- but it didn’t- so I took his seat. I could only imagine him sitting on the toilet not knowing how late he was. One man’s mistake is another man’s opportunity I guess! (As you will see, karma later ate me for this thought)
Remember, getting to Europe was not the purpose of this story – though frustrating, it compares only mildly to what happened when I tried to leave.

At the beginning of training I email the travel team asking them how much it would cost to switch my flight out as the faculty had told me it was fine to charge the change, since it wasn’t fully my fault. However… it was impossible. Because my departure flights had been rebooked, I could not change the return ones- even though the rebooking was against my will. The travel team would have to contact the airline directly to change it, and once they did so, they informed me it would cost over a thousand dollars- much too much for the training to pay.

Realizing that my training ended in Kitzbuhel on Friday at 12:15 and my flight back to the Emirates left Venice on Saturday at 5:45, I thought to myself “What is an obsessive journeyer like me supposed to do with these 30 hours?” Answer: Go to San Marino, of course, the tiny mountain nation located within Italy (notice I didn’t write “mountainous” as San Marino is literally just one mountain).

My reasoning for this was that Austria to San Marino was 7 hours and Austria to Venice was also 7 hours. So why not go somewhere new? Of course, then getting from San Marino to Venice would be 3-4 more hours on Saturday, but hey- I had nothing better to do and I love nothing more than sitting in a train or bus and watching the scenery go by (keep in mind here that at night you can’t see this scenery so train / bus travel becomes significantly less exciting).

When training ended promptly at 12:15pm, I quickly grabbed my bags to get to the waiting car. I had to get to the train station in Innsbruck before the train left 1hr and 15 mins later. The drive takes 1hr and 5mins. I jump in the car and say “let’s go!” The seemingly kind (to everyone but me in my hectic state) said that no, someone else had joined my itinerary once they heard there was a car going to Innsbruck- we had to wait.

Seven minutes pass before we see the other passenger. Who might it be? The girl I shamelessly hit on at the drunken dance last night, of course. But not the normal, “hey, you wanna dance?” More like the kind of hit on where no less than nine of your friends act as wingmen /women, getting others away from her (not always peacefully), creating diversions of jealousy, and bringing the both of you drinks (remember we’re strategy consultants- we problem solve everything)… only to find out that she has a boyfriend hours later.

I mutter some rude things under my breath for her tardiness and how I will now miss the train and must take a later one (arriving at 10pm rather than 7pm). I call the B&B I’ve booked in San Marino and inform them that I’ll be late and to please stay up. They say it will be fine- and we’re off. The conversation was humorous and candid- unpacking all the events of last night: why all my friends got involved, how it was completely unknown she had a boyfriend, and ending friendly.

Then, the driver (who probably thought we were insane) announced that we might just make it in time! He had been going through these curvy mountain roads at a pace that made the both of us question our choice of filling our stomachs with only liquid poison the night before. We arrive with a few minutes to spare, I run through the station and make it on the train! Success! I will be in San Marino for dinner! Or so I thought…

A few calm and beautiful hours later I arrive in Verona- my first connection. I have some time, so I go and charge my devices, buy some headphones, and grab a Panini. I look at the board which says the 11:50 departure is from Platform 12. I make my way there, wait twenty minutes and then board the train that will take me to my next stop (and my father’s birth place) Bologna.

An hour into the ride, when we should be nearing Bologna, I get up from my seat, push through the crowded aisle and stand by the door. But Bologna doesn’t come when it should. Instead, “Ala” does. I know something is wrong- I pull out my phone’s GPS and it says I’m way too North. “Hmmm, stupid Blackberry” I think to myself before seeing that the next stop is “Trento.” I am DEFINITELY not on the right train.

In a daze I jump off at Trento, run to the departures board and see that there is another train going to Bologna from there…but it is a slow regional one, and won’t even arrive until 10:25. From Bologna I still have to get to Rimini (another hour) and then take a cab to San Marino (25 mins.) If I’m lucky, I’ll be at the B&B at midnight.

I’m physically tired (no sleep the night before), mentally exhausted (intense training and lots of travel), and sad (after a week of constant team camaraderie, I’m alone) and I don’t know what to do. I weigh my options of just taking a hotel in Trento vs trying to make it to San Marino. Reasons to stay: I’m exhausted and with new tickets and hotel room- it may be more expensive. Plus I know of no hotels and can’t find any quickly online. Reasons to go: New place, I’m young and can handle tiredness, I already have the hotel booked.

I do what I’ve come to do best- sit down on the train to Bologna and passively (through indecision) decide to go to San Marino.

In addition to the map feature, the best part about having a business phone while traveling is global data access. I message my sisters with my predicament and get some good encouragement that at least puts a small smile on my shocked face and makes me feel less isolated. Then, as I sit, close to exhausted tears, an older woman places herself down next to me and asks where the train is going – I answer in my best Italian- and we’re off. I try to sleep, and though she is humming a sweet lullaby (like a little angel sent to me)- I’m too upset realizing I’ll be at least 5 hours late.

When the train gets to my original place of mistake, Verona, it stops- there is a 90 minute wait before it will depart (hence the 5 hours delay even though I only went 1 hour out of my way). I go to the train schedule to see my mistake- and there it is, the ONLY time in the entire day when two trains depart at the exact same minute from Verona (in the exact opposite direction) was the time I needed to be more attentive.

Oh well- here I am. I call the B&B again to say I’ll be in at midnight and she says it’s fine- informs me on how to get into the place, that her old father will be awake, and that the taxi will cost about €25-30. I think that €1 per minute sounds obnoxious- but whatever, I’ve missed the buses.
When the slow regional train once again moves away from Verona- I’m excited to at least be on my way. An hour later, I arrive in Bologna- having only 5 mins to find my way to Platform 3. Luckily- I arrive on Platform 2! So all I have to do is walk down the Platform to where I see the train at the end.

When I get there, I push to open the door- but nothing happens… I try again- but still nothing. I move to another carriage, and it also won’t budge. Frantically I look up, searching for any sign of hope- but only despair comes. Bologna has two Platform 3s- one East and one West. I run, but I can’t make it- I see my train leave me (not only the station)- and begin to wait the 35 minutes for the next one.

By then, I’ve accepted my fate- knowing I will now arrive at 1am- really hoping that old man isn’t staying up only for me. I get on the train to Rimini, remember nothing of it, and then get off and quickly find a cab. I tell him “San Marino” and show him a photo of a map I’ve taken on my Iphone- and one final time for the night, I’m off!

Soon however, I begin to get worried. The taxi meter is rising much faster than would make sense for a €25 euro ride that takes 25 minutes… by the time we cross the little border (just a small sign, not even a line on the road) it is already at €40. “Okay, we’ll be there soon” I tell myself- not realizing that we still have to zig-zag up the mountain, as I had booked a room in the Old City Center. When the meter hits €50 though, I start to get worried, I pull out my wallet and see €65… I really hope we’re close.

When we finally arrive- the ride cost €63 (nearly $90). I’m shocked by the event, but not it’s placement in this awful day- and am just ready to be in my bed. The cab driver kindly spends 5 minutes trying to find the way into the B&B before the old man comes out. I check in, carry my bag up two flights of stairs, and pass out in a bed that I might normally be a bit fussy about. However, I was too happy to finally have arrived and looking forward to the next morning in this quaint little nation.

Does the story end here? No- not really. When I wake up the next morning I go and have the second “B” in this B&B arrangement- as was the first, this was quite average- tea with corn bread, sweet cake, and a croissant. It’s like they weren’t sure which bread option I preferred and decided to give me them all. I then stroll to the tourist center which was only a minute away as I want both to know when the bus leaves (I was told “regularly”) and to get a visa stamp (even though it’s Schengen area, you can get your passport stamped for €5- why not?).

The lady at the center may have been surprised I didn’t react more when she told me that on weekends the buses are “less regular” perhaps “infrequent” even and that I had only 90 minutes to catch the next one, and only one that would get me to my flight in Venice on time. But rolling with the punches, I got directions to where it left, asked what I could see on the way, and headed back to the hotel to grab my bag.

Inquisitive as to why I was leaving so early, the old man kindly checked me out and pointed me on my way. I had about an hour for a 25 minute walk, so I went slowly, taking pictures, finding a postcard (only one place sold them!) to send to my niece, and making quick observations on the way this strange but nice place functions. Maybe I’ll return one day- for more than a rest and a stroll, but if not- I do feel like I got my San Marino experience, and I quite enjoyed it.

After making it to the bus, the rest of the journey all the way back to Abu Dhabi is without note. A beautiful bus ride through literally all of San Marino, a couple easy trains, some pasta in the airport, status lounge Bloody Mary in Amsterdam, watching Frozen on the plane, and some traffic on arrival in the Emirates are the few blips I can recall. And now, I’m sitting comfortably on my recliner – taking a little break from work as my boss for the week reviews the document I’ve sent him.

You see, it’s crazy to think of the dynamic nature of comfort, and even crazier to think of how it is mentally controlled and sometimes chosen as an externality of other priorities. When I first knew I missed that train and found out I had 5 (who knew 6) hours left of my journey, I might have felt like those hours would be eternity- never imaging how I would happily be writing about them now. Nor did I fully know that my sister’s kind encouragement or that stranger’s soft lullaby would make the discomfort bearable. Even more, would I have picked to go to San Marino if I knew it would take 13 hours? Of course not, but once it did – I was fine, and it still felt worth it.

You never know how hard you’ll have to work for things in life, you don’t know who will help you or what will stand in your path, and you can certainly never imagine what you’ll give up or gain on the way. What you can do, is to appreciate whoever and whatever comes along and be thankful for the planned and unplanned lessons and experience that life offers you.

San Marino’s largest tower