The film (Promet…ti amo – My wow in blue) tells the story of a fan—a story that is only half true. It is about the passion for one’s team, the challenge against fate, and the will to see something through. When Napoli won their third league title, I made a vow. And I chose to keep it. The only question was whether to go to Nigeria for Osimhen or to Georgia for Kvara. For practical and financial reasons, Georgia won. At first, I didn’t imagine it would become a short film. But after shooting my first short in Ukraine, I asked myself: why not again?

I am, first and foremost, a writer—borrowed, for now, by cinema. What moves me is the desire to experiment with different languages, and film is simply another language to explore. The very first movie I remember seeing was *I Picari*, an Italian-Spanish co-production, with my sister by my side. The magic of the big screen was love at first sight. I spent my entire adolescence in the small cinema of my hometown—a golden age for me. I still remember a line from that film: *“Life is a toy,”* often repeated by Giancarlo Giannini.

I Picari, internationally released as The Rogues, is a 1987 Italian comedy directed by Mario Monicelli, freely inspired by the Spanish novels Lazarillo de Tormes and Guzmán de Alfarache. Co-produced with Spain, it was released in Spain as Los alegres pícaros.

There are many influences. Kieslowski, for his mastery of technique. Terry Gilliam, for his boundless imagination. Lukas Moodysson, for his sensitivity. And Massimo Troisi, for his irony. As for favorite films… I’ll name a few: *12 Monkeys*, *Nothing Left to Do but Cry*, and Nolan’s *Tenet*.

I think many know the weight of impostor syndrome—I never feel up to anything. But when I was in Lviv, in Ukraine, working on my first short film, I heard the Neapolitan song *Malafemmena*. For me, it was an epiphany. I had nothing, I knew nothing, yet I felt that *L’viv Napoli*—the music that echoed back—could become a visual story. So I began filming with my phone, collecting fragments of everything that moved me.

I wanted to speak about football, to expose a world that thrives on the passion of others only to turn it into money—often with hypocrisy. Fans give their energy, their passion, pieces of their very lives. And yet, in the end, they are left outside the game, reduced to spectators of TV rights. There is a story that has never left me, though it has been almost erased from memory. I searched for it in Italian but found it only in English. It was about a Lazio supporter, just 25 years old, who during Vieri’s transfer left a farewell note and succumbed to heartbreak. I wanted to honor him—not with rhetoric, but with tenderness. And perhaps the greatest challenge of this film is precisely this: not to fall into banality. Whether I’ve managed to succeed, I still don’t know.

The casting was necessarily constrained. With no budget, I couldn’t hire actors, so I turned to a team I trusted implicitly—which, in this case, meant the best and the worst actor the film could have: myself. Marco Petrungaro, my assistant director, later became my anchor during the editing process, helping to shape and give rhythm to what I had captured.

So far, it has been selected for one festival. I know it’s a niche film, unusual, far from the polished perfection of AI—but that is exactly the point. I would rather have a raw, imperfect film that breathes truth than a flawless fiction. Now, we let it take its own steps and see where the journey leads.

I believe that every director carries a personal vision, even if unconsciously, and may choose to follow—or diverge from—a classical style. For this film, for instance, I had Sergio Leone in mind, of course on a much smaller scale, letting his spirit of composition and tension quietly guide my choices.

Yes, I believe so. This is the pivotal moment. Presenting a film at a festival, as a first-time filmmaker, feels like a dream—but it is also a chance to face the most honest reflection of your work. Months and years of labor are laid bare, open to the gaze of the audience, examined and felt in every frame.

Right now, I’m writing. I don’t know if any of these stories will ever become a film. I want to make a few more shorts first, to grow even more comfortable with the language of cinema before taking on a full-length feature. Then, a friend asked me to create a film about Padre Pio—so that might be next. Unless, of course, Antonio Conte’s Napoli surprises everyone and lifts the Champions League trophy—then perhaps My Wow in Blue 2 could come to life.

Thank you very much for your answers, team of BIA wishes you many achievements with you current and future projects.