An ironic documentary of how I became a Communist when I was 8 and now 30 years later I don’t know who the hell to vote for…
The child, in total innocence, asks his father - his natural idol - who will he vote for. "We vote the communists, but don't say it around!" It is the answer in the Venetian dialect of the afro-haired worker. The child's eyes light up, now he knows a secret, a forbidden thing not to tell anyone. "And what is the symbol?" The boy asks, still in Venetian dialect. At that point the man approaches his son and moves the sand with a quick wave of his hand, to have a flat and slightly damp board. And there, on the sand, with the index finger, he draws a sickle and hammer.
That child is me and this is the story of how, in early June 1987, on a beach near-by Venice, looking at hammer and sickle drawn on the sand, I became a Communist and how, over thirty years later, in 2019, I don't know anymore who the hell to vote for.
The child's gaze will be curious, a little naive, he will comment on what is happening in Italy and will go to interview the key figures of the last 30 years of the Italian left party, asking harmless questions - as just a child can do - but at the same time sharp, provocative and above all ironic.
Even the events have really happened in director's life, the documentary does not want to be too personal, on the contrary, it will tell about experiences and sensations similar to anyone born between the end of the Seventies and the beginning of the Eighties, and who has gone through the last thirty years of Italian political history.
The story is divided into three chapters: Venice, Bologna and Tallinn. Three completely different points of view and three antithetical ways of living certain political ideals. For an hour and a half of ironic entertainment and history through archival materials, interviews and fictional reconstructions. With the intent of narrative and visual style similar to Wes Anderson's films.