This film is the result of the discovery of a small treasure: a suitcase containing more than 20 reels of 8mm home movies, which had been kept for years in a storage closet in the home of Mirta Guarnaschelli, Sergio Corbucci’s first wife, now 92 years old. It is a classic found-footage film, revealing a story that would otherwise have been lost: the love between Sergio and Mirta. He is a young director at the beginning of his career, she is not yet 18 and from a respectable Sicilian family, transplanted into the cinematic Rome of La Dolce Vita and Via Veneto. It is a Via Veneto seen from the “far side of the street”, marked by precariousness, dashed hopes, encounters and clashes with producers, actor friends and screenwriting colleagues. Everything is documented with the Paillard 8mm camera that Sergio always carries with him: their meeting in Capri in the 1950s, their marriage and honeymoon, the search for film opportunities that often turn out to be nothing but idle chatter. It didn’t matter what kind of film it was – romance, musicarello, comedy or western – there was something for everyone. More than a hundred films were being produced in Italy each year, and Corbucci was convinced that sooner or later his breakthrough would come. In the long audio interview that serves as the backbone of the narrative, Mirta recalls: “Life was fun, but also complicated. Then the complicated part gained the upper hand. When that happens, well, not everyone is able to hack it…” Thus, after five years of marriage and ten years after first meeting, Mirta left Sergio, unable to bear the weight of everyday problems, of life as a couple in which uncertainty is the only certainty. However, she has not forgotten her years with Corbucci, the ups and downs, moments of affection and bad moods, hopes and disappointments. Hers is a disenchanted yet ultimately nostalgic look at an era, at a way of making films, and at an Italy that we see through the vintage splendour of the 8mm films shot by the young Corbucci, in love with cinema, life and Mirta.

Fabrizio Laurenti