Beyond Silence: Celebrating Italian Filmmaker Elvira Notari
by Paulette Reynolds * June 3, 2026
"What struck me was the mystery. Why was she forgotten? To dive into Elvira Coda Notari's life was a leap in the dark. She left no writings. No letters, no interviews. So little was known,” said Flavia Amabile, author of the biographical novel Elvira, “that I had to use my imagination."
The silent era, begun with Georges Méliès Le Manoir du Diable (The Haunted House of the Devil) in 1896, may have created a new business venture for men, but it would also beckon women with the promise of empowerment and an opportunity to challenge - and change - the global gender narrative.
Flash-forward to the 1910s, Naples. Early Neapolitan cinema was rough and ready, shooting in natural light, filming in the streets and capturing city life and its vast landscapes. Enter Elvira Notari, who in 1906 stepped behind a camera and dared to be the first woman director and CEO of Dora Film in Italy. For the next 18 years she - together with her husband Nicola as cinematographer - created a visual tapestry of films highlighting the drama and vitality of Naples, Roma.
The silent era, begun with Georges Méliès Le Manoir du Diable (The Haunted House of the Devil) in 1896, may have created a new business venture for men, but it would also beckon women with the promise of empowerment and an opportunity to challenge - and change - the global gender narrative.
Flash-forward to the 1910s, Naples. Early Neapolitan cinema was rough and ready, shooting in natural light, filming in the streets and capturing city life and its vast landscapes. Enter Elvira Notari, who in 1906 stepped behind a camera and dared to be the first woman director and CEO of Dora Film in Italy. For the next 18 years she - together with her husband Nicola as cinematographer - created a visual tapestry of films highlighting the drama and vitality of Naples, Roma.
“Many families ran their own businesses and artisans applied their crafts everywhere. The cinema workshops were production companies developed from these businesses. It was natural for women to be in charge of a business within the family. Elvira and her husband began by hand, coloring, film reels, and making short advertisements to be played before the main feature. Encouraged by this they decided to try their hands at making films themselves.” Galliani Bruno, Beyond Silence
Like the many male filmmakers during this nascent period she wrote screenplays based on novels, but she didn’t limit herself, for Elvira was also an entrepreneur wearing many hats - producer, editor, distributor, screenwriter, and director. As CEO of Dora Film (named after her first daughter), she pioneered her own acting school, training amateur actors to play in her productions. But Elvira Notari didn’t stop there, she even ran her own distribution company.
Like the many male filmmakers during this nascent period she wrote screenplays based on novels, but she didn’t limit herself, for Elvira was also an entrepreneur wearing many hats - producer, editor, distributor, screenwriter, and director. As CEO of Dora Film (named after her first daughter), she pioneered her own acting school, training amateur actors to play in her productions. But Elvira Notari didn’t stop there, she even ran her own distribution company.
Notari turned to proto-neorealism and created a style that set her apart from her male contemporaries. Her studio was Italian city life and the surrounding Neapolitan communities, teeming with the roller-coaster spectacle of living. Natural lighting, inexperienced actors and urban settings produced the early Notari style of storytelling, similar to independent filmmakers of today. Silent filmmakers did incorporate these elements, but usually within the confines of a sound studio and employing professional actors. Regardless of the approach, visual artists of the period learned the language of celluloid, forming the genres and tropes for modern filmmakers to build upon in contemporary cinema.
Dora Film crafted 60 films and 100 documentaries during those 18 years, yet only a fraction remain. Her two surviving full-length films A Santanotte and È Piccerella, both released in 1922, exist as a tantalizing monument to Elvira’s thematic passions of women, vis a vis the female gaze. Elvira Notari’s world is teeming with people and their activities: at festivals, public events, and family outings - their energy leaps out from the static film that is self-imposed upon them. These few reels of celluloid history act as a storehouse of collective memories, triggering feelings of joy and remembrance of shared cultural traditions.
Notari’s style of social realism contains a minutiae of micro-observations about the Neapolitan social structure of the period, reflecting the moral and cultural constructs of the masculine world, yet translated into a new language for women. And for her female narratives to connect with audiences she chose a handful of untrained actors to serve as her canvas. Among them was Rosé Angoine - a former math teacher to her son Eduardo - who became the featured leading lady in her films. Whether as a saint or a sinner, when Rose turns her face towards the camera, she telegraphs her intentions with all the skill of a Greta Garbo. That primal power of her look is distilled into a transmutational moment of sheer captivation, reaching out to further bewitch us.
Dora Film crafted 60 films and 100 documentaries during those 18 years, yet only a fraction remain. Her two surviving full-length films A Santanotte and È Piccerella, both released in 1922, exist as a tantalizing monument to Elvira’s thematic passions of women, vis a vis the female gaze. Elvira Notari’s world is teeming with people and their activities: at festivals, public events, and family outings - their energy leaps out from the static film that is self-imposed upon them. These few reels of celluloid history act as a storehouse of collective memories, triggering feelings of joy and remembrance of shared cultural traditions.
Notari’s style of social realism contains a minutiae of micro-observations about the Neapolitan social structure of the period, reflecting the moral and cultural constructs of the masculine world, yet translated into a new language for women. And for her female narratives to connect with audiences she chose a handful of untrained actors to serve as her canvas. Among them was Rosé Angoine - a former math teacher to her son Eduardo - who became the featured leading lady in her films. Whether as a saint or a sinner, when Rose turns her face towards the camera, she telegraphs her intentions with all the skill of a Greta Garbo. That primal power of her look is distilled into a transmutational moment of sheer captivation, reaching out to further bewitch us.
Elvira’s films were also inspired by the theatrical genre known as sceneggiate, a particular form of storytelling developed around a musical soap opera, inspired by a handful of popular songwriters from the era. Film historian Mario Franco adds, “Intertitle cards were read out loud by the actors on the stage because most of the audience couldn’t read and there was usually an orchestra, which made it an interactive experience for the audiences, who become quite animated and supportive.” A fine example of this theatrical form can be seen in Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather * Part II, entitled Senza Mamma, a sceneggiata by the director’s grandfather, Francesco Pennino.
These scenarios featured stories that explored the relations among the underclass of gangsters, petty criminals, and thugs. Tensions invariably erupted when attractions developed between an outcast and a member of the middle or working class. Femme fatales also added to the tension, ensuring an amorous triangle to heighten passions to the breaking point. Societal norms of culture and tradition were breached, leading to rage and violence. The performances were built around the emotional spectrum regarding love, betrayal, and revenge. Melodramatic expressions welcomed histrionics, and the Neapolitan silent film industry was a perfect cauldron to stir up an endless supply of passion, tragedy, sorrow, and loss.
“Elvira began making these films … Audiences participated, which fostered a deep and honest connection between the production and the actual audience,” said Simona Frasca, Ethnomusicologist at University of Naples and curator of musical projects on Elvira Notari’s filmography.
Director Valerio Ciriaci offers us a definitive look at just who Elvira Notari was as a cinema creatrix. Juxtaposing modern images, interviews, people, and supporting projects, he - together with editor Francesca Sofia Allegra and cinematographer Isaak Liptzin, melds their passion for Elvira’s work into a multi-level exploration of her female gaze.
And mirroring the creative projects highlighted in this seminal documentary, the collaborative support from Parallelo 41 Produzioni (and Executive Producer Antonella Di Nocera) plus Luce Cinecittà, have ensured Elvira Notari's voice will never be silenced again.
“Elvira began making these films … Audiences participated, which fostered a deep and honest connection between the production and the actual audience,” said Simona Frasca, Ethnomusicologist at University of Naples and curator of musical projects on Elvira Notari’s filmography.
Director Valerio Ciriaci offers us a definitive look at just who Elvira Notari was as a cinema creatrix. Juxtaposing modern images, interviews, people, and supporting projects, he - together with editor Francesca Sofia Allegra and cinematographer Isaak Liptzin, melds their passion for Elvira’s work into a multi-level exploration of her female gaze.
And mirroring the creative projects highlighted in this seminal documentary, the collaborative support from Parallelo 41 Produzioni (and Executive Producer Antonella Di Nocera) plus Luce Cinecittà, have ensured Elvira Notari's voice will never be silenced again.
Participants in the documentary include Teresa Saponangelo, actor, who interprets Elvira in the photo series “Elvira Notari, Mother of Italian Cinema”, created by photographer Cristina Vatielli; Flavia Amabile, author of the biographical novel Elvira; Francesca Consonni, creator of the textile workshop project, Naked Like in a Dream, based on Elvira’s work; and Michele Signore and Antonella Monetti, composer and performer of original and restored musical scores for Elvira’s films. Through these diverse facets of artistic expression Notari’s vision and voice is celebrated by contemporary women who have forged their own creative paths, leading to this collaborative celebration.
‘A Santanotte * 1922
A salutation to this window where the moon, with a party, has already spread all the silver!
Somebody is awake or stirring, because sleep has left her, just as I.
Oh, how I’ve been restless, how my life has been restless!
I give this “Santa Notte” to the one who made me feel ill.
Santa Notte, 1922
This short excerpt from the popular Neapolitan song “Santa Notte”, foreshadows the pain, anguish, and torment to come for its memorable cast in Elvira Notari’s A Santanotte, released in 1922.
The song mournfully tells us of a love triangle between star-crossed lovers Nanninella and Tore, whose happiness is threatened by Carluccio’s feverish obsession for the neighborhood beauty. Yet, most of the time she goes through the empty motions of daily life, overwhelmed by melancholy caused by her father’s abusive behavior. She only seems to come alive when Tore comes to call, and there’s a rather sweet respite in a scene - reminiscent of Romeo and Juliet - as her new love courts her à la window side. She plucks a flower and gently drops it into his hands, and he, of course, is transposed into rapture. The backdrop of the city and its vastness, so lively and carefree, seems to have the opposite effect on her, and every interaction with the men in her life draining her of all happiness and hope.
A salutation to this window where the moon, with a party, has already spread all the silver!
Somebody is awake or stirring, because sleep has left her, just as I.
Oh, how I’ve been restless, how my life has been restless!
I give this “Santa Notte” to the one who made me feel ill.
Santa Notte, 1922
This short excerpt from the popular Neapolitan song “Santa Notte”, foreshadows the pain, anguish, and torment to come for its memorable cast in Elvira Notari’s A Santanotte, released in 1922.
The song mournfully tells us of a love triangle between star-crossed lovers Nanninella and Tore, whose happiness is threatened by Carluccio’s feverish obsession for the neighborhood beauty. Yet, most of the time she goes through the empty motions of daily life, overwhelmed by melancholy caused by her father’s abusive behavior. She only seems to come alive when Tore comes to call, and there’s a rather sweet respite in a scene - reminiscent of Romeo and Juliet - as her new love courts her à la window side. She plucks a flower and gently drops it into his hands, and he, of course, is transposed into rapture. The backdrop of the city and its vastness, so lively and carefree, seems to have the opposite effect on her, and every interaction with the men in her life draining her of all happiness and hope.
The one who serves as a catalyst for most of the film's movement is Eduardo Notari, (forever billed as “Gennariello” in his mother’s films) as the shoe shine boy. Here he commands center stage every time his face hits the lens, drawing us in with carefully crafted hand gestures and his perpetual air of sorrow.
Rosè Angione serves as a deft counterpoint, anguish pouring out of her eyes. Unfortunately, she’s caught in a one-dimensional melodramatic pose that she can't seem to break out of - either artistically under Notari's direction or by the story arc of the character herself. She does raise the craft of melodrama to new heights as a sacrificial trope demanded by societal expectations. And it's only when she slows down her actions, and glides her face towards the camera, where her true power resides. It can’t be understated here that Nicola Notari commands the male gaze through the lens and Elvira’s controlled direction brought out Antigone’s female gaze, celebrating a fusion of Woman as the camera lovingly strokes her face.
Director: Elvira Notari
Original Concept: Santa Notte * 1920
Lyrics: Eduardo Scala * Music: Francesco Buongiovanni
Cinematography: Nicola Notari
Starring: Rosè Angione/Nanninella, Eduardo Notari/Gennariello, Antonio Palmieri/Elisa,
Alberto Danza/Tore * Spina/Carluccio
Rosè Angione serves as a deft counterpoint, anguish pouring out of her eyes. Unfortunately, she’s caught in a one-dimensional melodramatic pose that she can't seem to break out of - either artistically under Notari's direction or by the story arc of the character herself. She does raise the craft of melodrama to new heights as a sacrificial trope demanded by societal expectations. And it's only when she slows down her actions, and glides her face towards the camera, where her true power resides. It can’t be understated here that Nicola Notari commands the male gaze through the lens and Elvira’s controlled direction brought out Antigone’s female gaze, celebrating a fusion of Woman as the camera lovingly strokes her face.
Director: Elvira Notari
Original Concept: Santa Notte * 1920
Lyrics: Eduardo Scala * Music: Francesco Buongiovanni
Cinematography: Nicola Notari
Starring: Rosè Angione/Nanninella, Eduardo Notari/Gennariello, Antonio Palmieri/Elisa,
Alberto Danza/Tore * Spina/Carluccio
È Piccerella * 1922
(The Little Girl’s Wrong)
Another passionate tale in the genre of sceneggiata, È Piccerella centers on a song by Libero Bovio, with its refrain of “She’s a little girl!” This phrase is applied to the behavior of Margaretella, a young Neapolitan woman who burns through men like matches - until she becomes the victim of her helter-skelter choices. The world was changing for women in the 1920s, but not in the enclaves of Naples, where societal expectations demanded that women suffer through pressurized marriages or be branded a fallen tramp. Her excessive behavior brands her as a cautionary tale, warning women that safety and long life are guaranteed only by following a sedate code of behavior, marriage, and babies.
“But what do you want?... Isn't she happy yet?” The townspeople repeatedly attempt to warn smitten Tore about the free-spirited Margaretella, who loves to be pampered with gifts but has no intention of returning any passion of her own. Frustrated, his desires drown him in a sea of oblivion to everything but her, and so he resorts to stealing from his family. This melodrama includes another love triangle, prison, revenge, and death.
(The Little Girl’s Wrong)
Another passionate tale in the genre of sceneggiata, È Piccerella centers on a song by Libero Bovio, with its refrain of “She’s a little girl!” This phrase is applied to the behavior of Margaretella, a young Neapolitan woman who burns through men like matches - until she becomes the victim of her helter-skelter choices. The world was changing for women in the 1920s, but not in the enclaves of Naples, where societal expectations demanded that women suffer through pressurized marriages or be branded a fallen tramp. Her excessive behavior brands her as a cautionary tale, warning women that safety and long life are guaranteed only by following a sedate code of behavior, marriage, and babies.
“But what do you want?... Isn't she happy yet?” The townspeople repeatedly attempt to warn smitten Tore about the free-spirited Margaretella, who loves to be pampered with gifts but has no intention of returning any passion of her own. Frustrated, his desires drown him in a sea of oblivion to everything but her, and so he resorts to stealing from his family. This melodrama includes another love triangle, prison, revenge, and death.
“What strikes me most in Notari’s films is how difficult her female characters are to reduce to a single idea. They are not simply victims, and they are not simply femmes fatales,” reflects director Valerio Ciriaci, “They are full of desire and contradictions. They can be sensual, wounded, angry, resourceful, sometimes self-destructive. They live in a world shaped by patriarchy, poverty, family obligation, and public judgment, but Elvira never seems to flatten them into examples or symbols.”
Director: Elvira Notari
Screenwriter: Elvira Notari (Based on a popular Neapolitan ballad by Libero Bovio, Salvatore Gambardella)
Cinematography: Nicola Notari
Music: Based on a popular Neapolitan ballad by Libero Bovio and Salvatore Gambardella
Starring Rosè Angione/Margaretella, Alberto Danza/Tore, Antonio Palmieri/Carluccio, Eduardo Notari/Gennariello, Elisa Cava/Madre
Director: Elvira Notari
Screenwriter: Elvira Notari (Based on a popular Neapolitan ballad by Libero Bovio, Salvatore Gambardella)
Cinematography: Nicola Notari
Music: Based on a popular Neapolitan ballad by Libero Bovio and Salvatore Gambardella
Starring Rosè Angione/Margaretella, Alberto Danza/Tore, Antonio Palmieri/Carluccio, Eduardo Notari/Gennariello, Elisa Cava/Madre
The Cineteca Nazionale now holds the largest number and the longest films of Elvira Notari. “These films were hand-colored,” her son Eduardo explained. “We would color a tie, or the actor’s outfit. It was like the painstaking work of a medieval monk.” The color work - a trademark of any Notari film - was all but lost until 2007, when George Eastman House discovered a print of ‘A Santanotte, which included notes on how to color the film.
Giuliana Muscio, cinema historian and author of “Napoli/New York/Hollywood: Film Between Italy and the
United States”, noted in Beyond Silence that the low-budget films from Elvira Notari were very popular among immigrants:
"She elevates female characters by giving them their own agency. It's no accident that her films were so popular in the United States, they reflected the experience of the second generation of immigrant women. … In immigrant culture daughters carry the burden of cultural transition, of adapting, of modernizing. … Elvira’s films were so popular that she decided to create a formal distribution system through Dora Film of America, located at 729 7th Avenue in New York."
Giuliana Muscio, cinema historian and author of “Napoli/New York/Hollywood: Film Between Italy and the
United States”, noted in Beyond Silence that the low-budget films from Elvira Notari were very popular among immigrants:
"She elevates female characters by giving them their own agency. It's no accident that her films were so popular in the United States, they reflected the experience of the second generation of immigrant women. … In immigrant culture daughters carry the burden of cultural transition, of adapting, of modernizing. … Elvira’s films were so popular that she decided to create a formal distribution system through Dora Film of America, located at 729 7th Avenue in New York."
Imagine during the peak years of emigration, where over 80,000 immigrants from Naples arrived every year until 1921. Elvira’s documentaries featuring local villages gave these displaced Italians, “… a connection to the place of origin, at a time when these immigrants had to change”, according to Giuliani Bruno, Professor at Harvard University and author of Streetwalking on a Ruined Map: Cultural Theory and the City Films of Elvira Notari. “They were moving towards a new identity, a new way of being - they were learning a new language and they were becoming Italian-Americans." *1
She writes about Notari in historical fiction terms. “Elvira was not allowed to sign contracts, since she was a woman, so she couldn't be recognized as the head of her own production company. Very often in the advertising her name doesn't even appear and “N. Notari” stood for her husband Nicola. The Elvira I portrayed is a free woman … the woman who refuses to give up on her dreams, who chooses to work and have a family as well. … Her story speaks to many women."
The documentary is filled with modern women who are encouraged to embrace the vital message of her films concerning female empowerment. Through projects utilizing music, art, film, photography, and needlework they collectively recognize themselves in Notari’s images. Born in the early part of the 20th century, these longings continue to dominate every woman's lives and dreams today, translating our hidden message and silence into viable meanings.
She writes about Notari in historical fiction terms. “Elvira was not allowed to sign contracts, since she was a woman, so she couldn't be recognized as the head of her own production company. Very often in the advertising her name doesn't even appear and “N. Notari” stood for her husband Nicola. The Elvira I portrayed is a free woman … the woman who refuses to give up on her dreams, who chooses to work and have a family as well. … Her story speaks to many women."
The documentary is filled with modern women who are encouraged to embrace the vital message of her films concerning female empowerment. Through projects utilizing music, art, film, photography, and needlework they collectively recognize themselves in Notari’s images. Born in the early part of the 20th century, these longings continue to dominate every woman's lives and dreams today, translating our hidden message and silence into viable meanings.
The end of Dora Film began with the stirrings of Fascism. "Neapolitan cinema in general and Elvira Notari were not well-liked by the fascist regime. What troubled the regime was her use of dialect. Her films openly showed what really happened in the city, including violence and poverty …” Bruno affirms, “There is a strong criticism of institutions, of law enforcement sending innocent people to prison.” Harassment from the state’s censors forced Dora Film to be creative: “They printed at least two copies of each film - one copy before it was sent to the censors would go to America on ships that carried immigrants, in secret, to bypass censorship."
Eventually the fascist state notified Dora Film that, “‘It has been observed that some film companies releasing films featuring Neapolitan settings that no longer reflect the true character of that population … featuring street performers, beggars, urchins, dirty alleyways and people devoted to idleness, are a slander against a population that strives to improve it's social and material condition. In the spirit of the regime; considering that such films lack any artistic merit, approval will be denied for films using cliches that offend the dignity of Naples and of the region.’"
Eventually the fascist state notified Dora Film that, “‘It has been observed that some film companies releasing films featuring Neapolitan settings that no longer reflect the true character of that population … featuring street performers, beggars, urchins, dirty alleyways and people devoted to idleness, are a slander against a population that strives to improve it's social and material condition. In the spirit of the regime; considering that such films lack any artistic merit, approval will be denied for films using cliches that offend the dignity of Naples and of the region.’"
After the states’ response and the transition to sound filmmaking, Elvira quit filmmaking leaving Naples and her family behind. Part of her erasure from post-1930’s filmmaking was due to her gender, which made it impossible for her to be regarded legally as the head of Dora Film, and her husband Nicola was often advertised instead. Bruno reflected, “The silence around Elvira is not just due to the lost films. There was a silence from critics and historians as well."
Pippo Santonastaso, great-nephew of Elvira, shared, “I think the main reason that they didn't speak of her accomplishment is they didn’t think that she was doing anything important. No one did. Cinema - it wasn't like it is today - it wasn't seen as important as an art. The Oscars - none of that existed - who would care about her movies?"
Pippo Santonastaso, great-nephew of Elvira, shared, “I think the main reason that they didn't speak of her accomplishment is they didn’t think that she was doing anything important. No one did. Cinema - it wasn't like it is today - it wasn't seen as important as an art. The Oscars - none of that existed - who would care about her movies?"
Filmmaker Ciriaci believes, “This is where I think a feminist reading of her work becomes so powerful. We cannot fully know how Elvira would have described her own cinema, or whether she would have used the language we use today. But her images are alive, and the questions we ask of them today matter. Looking at her films now, it is impossible not to see how much space she gives to women’s bodies, desires, frustrations, and acts of resistance.”
Like her silent film counterparts, French filmmaker and CEO Alice Guy-Blachè, and German animation visionary and inventor Lotte Reiniger, Elvira Notari would have to wait decades before her cinematic creations were acknowledged, promoted, and celebrated.
Director Valerio best sums up the spirit of Beyond Silence, “What I find most moving about silent cinema is how alive it becomes when we allow ourselves to meet it on its own terms. There is still a misconception that silent films belong to a primitive stage of cinema, but when you watch Notari’s films properly, especially with music and with an audience, they feel immediate, physical, and incredibly expressive.
Like her silent film counterparts, French filmmaker and CEO Alice Guy-Blachè, and German animation visionary and inventor Lotte Reiniger, Elvira Notari would have to wait decades before her cinematic creations were acknowledged, promoted, and celebrated.
Director Valerio best sums up the spirit of Beyond Silence, “What I find most moving about silent cinema is how alive it becomes when we allow ourselves to meet it on its own terms. There is still a misconception that silent films belong to a primitive stage of cinema, but when you watch Notari’s films properly, especially with music and with an audience, they feel immediate, physical, and incredibly expressive.
In Notari’s case, silent cinema was not only an image on a screen. It was part of a much larger experience: music, popular storytelling, the streets of Naples, the memory of migration. Her films carried a world across the ocean. For Italian communities in America, they were melodramas, of course, but also a way to see again the places, gestures, and faces they had left behind. That is what still moves me. So much of her work has been lost, and yet what remains still speaks with extraordinary force.
Making this film allowed me to fall in love with Elvira Notari’s cinema. It also made me want to look more deeply at women filmmakers from the early history of cinema whose work has not received the attention it deserved. Not because their films were minor, but because film history was often too narrow to fully see them.”
Making this film allowed me to fall in love with Elvira Notari’s cinema. It also made me want to look more deeply at women filmmakers from the early history of cinema whose work has not received the attention it deserved. Not because their films were minor, but because film history was often too narrow to fully see them.”
END NOTE:
And finally, Valerio shares a few of his favorite female filmmakers. “Moving closer to our time, Lina Wertmüller, Agnès Varda, and Chantal Akerman are all major references for me, each in a very different way. Among contemporary Italian directors, Alice Rohrwacher is probably my absolute favorite, and I also follow Alina Marazzi’s work with great interest. Internationally, I’m especially drawn to the cinema of Kelly Reichardt, Claire Denis, Lucrecia Martel, and Laura Poitras.”
Awen Films Company founders director/writer Valerio Ciriaci and cinematographer Isaak Liptzin create and produce documentary films that span multiple themes, from the pirate town of Marcus Hook (Treasure * 2013), vaudeville theater king S.Z. Poli (Mister Wonderland * 2019), to the U.S. revisionist ‘monument’ movement during the early 2020s (Stonebreakers * 2022).
And finally, Valerio shares a few of his favorite female filmmakers. “Moving closer to our time, Lina Wertmüller, Agnès Varda, and Chantal Akerman are all major references for me, each in a very different way. Among contemporary Italian directors, Alice Rohrwacher is probably my absolute favorite, and I also follow Alina Marazzi’s work with great interest. Internationally, I’m especially drawn to the cinema of Kelly Reichardt, Claire Denis, Lucrecia Martel, and Laura Poitras.”
Awen Films Company founders director/writer Valerio Ciriaci and cinematographer Isaak Liptzin create and produce documentary films that span multiple themes, from the pirate town of Marcus Hook (Treasure * 2013), vaudeville theater king S.Z. Poli (Mister Wonderland * 2019), to the U.S. revisionist ‘monument’ movement during the early 2020s (Stonebreakers * 2022).
Selected References:
Featured Sceneggiata Songs:
“Santa Notte” / ’A Santanotte” * 1920
Music by Francesco Buongiovanni and lyrics by Eduardo Scala
“A salutation to this window where the moon, with a party, has already spread all the silver!
Somebody is awake or stirring, because sleep has left her, just as I.
Oh, how I’ve been restless, how my life has been restless!
I give this “Santa Notte” to the one who made me feel ill.”
Come down, beautiful girl, I’m alone tonight:
My mother took away the knife from my chest.
This is the old good thing that brings me here.
Are you with someone? What should I do?
I’ve turned into this alley to die if I must die.
Come back with me, I love you.
Then, “Santa Notte,” we give it to this friend.
You’ve finally come down.
Did you hear me? Tell me with whom you were.
Tell me your name, quickly.
But you fell? You’re cold.
Speak… Ah! There’s blood on your chest.
He who wronged me has killed you; I hold you in my arms.
Poor heart, they’ve broken you.
This “Santa Notte” now must be given to the one who dies!
But before the day, the villain must die.
Featured Sceneggiata Songs:
“Santa Notte” / ’A Santanotte” * 1920
Music by Francesco Buongiovanni and lyrics by Eduardo Scala
“A salutation to this window where the moon, with a party, has already spread all the silver!
Somebody is awake or stirring, because sleep has left her, just as I.
Oh, how I’ve been restless, how my life has been restless!
I give this “Santa Notte” to the one who made me feel ill.”
Come down, beautiful girl, I’m alone tonight:
My mother took away the knife from my chest.
This is the old good thing that brings me here.
Are you with someone? What should I do?
I’ve turned into this alley to die if I must die.
Come back with me, I love you.
Then, “Santa Notte,” we give it to this friend.
You’ve finally come down.
Did you hear me? Tell me with whom you were.
Tell me your name, quickly.
But you fell? You’re cold.
Speak… Ah! There’s blood on your chest.
He who wronged me has killed you; I hold you in my arms.
Poor heart, they’ve broken you.
This “Santa Notte” now must be given to the one who dies!
But before the day, the villain must die.
She’s a Little Girl Yet / È Piccerella * 1921
Translated from Google
Music: Nicola Valente * Lyrics: Libero Bovio
My mother said: "Today, do you know what I'm telling you?
He's a tear-off and he doesn't understand yet.
He treats you, I say, like a friend,
Better a friend, like a brother and sister.
It's little girl!
It's an innocent soul
And he doesn't understand anything.
She is a little girl and, meanwhile,
I know what people say about me.
But Mom says she's a little girl
And I say to my mother: "It's a little girl!"
"And did you wear the dress?" "And Miss,
'The vest will set. And these are the shoes.
This is the hat, which came out,
Paris stuff, and these are the rich.
It's mom dice:
"My father seems more beautiful,
Poor little girl".
She is a little girl and, meanwhile,
I know what people say about me.
But Mom says she's a little girl
And I say to my mother: "It's a little girl!"
But what do you want?... Isn't she happy yet?
That mm'aggi '' to lift more? (May)
I curse this face.
March fashionable, turn off, do 'a lady
And my mother not even a petaccia. (bitch)
And I'm silent, I always hunt.
And so it's beautiful,
When I hunt 'the yard.
She is a little girl and, meanwhile,
I know what people say about me.
But Mom still says: "She's a little girl!"
And I say to my mother: "It's a little girl!"
Translated from Google
Music: Nicola Valente * Lyrics: Libero Bovio
My mother said: "Today, do you know what I'm telling you?
He's a tear-off and he doesn't understand yet.
He treats you, I say, like a friend,
Better a friend, like a brother and sister.
It's little girl!
It's an innocent soul
And he doesn't understand anything.
She is a little girl and, meanwhile,
I know what people say about me.
But Mom says she's a little girl
And I say to my mother: "It's a little girl!"
"And did you wear the dress?" "And Miss,
'The vest will set. And these are the shoes.
This is the hat, which came out,
Paris stuff, and these are the rich.
It's mom dice:
"My father seems more beautiful,
Poor little girl".
She is a little girl and, meanwhile,
I know what people say about me.
But Mom says she's a little girl
And I say to my mother: "It's a little girl!"
But what do you want?... Isn't she happy yet?
That mm'aggi '' to lift more? (May)
I curse this face.
March fashionable, turn off, do 'a lady
And my mother not even a petaccia. (bitch)
And I'm silent, I always hunt.
And so it's beautiful,
When I hunt 'the yard.
She is a little girl and, meanwhile,
I know what people say about me.
But Mom still says: "She's a little girl!"
And I say to my mother: "It's a little girl!"
*1 Early Film Making in Naples by Jeff Matthews / www.naplesldm.com/notari.php
Harvard Film Archive
Napule de canzone.com:
https://www.napule-de-canzone.com/song/a_santanotte.html
https://www.napule-de-canzone.com/song/e_piccerella.html
Wikipedia/Sceneggiata:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sceneggiata
“Senza Mamma: From the film The Godfather * Part II.”
YouTube, uploaded by pondeflauers
https://youtu.be/7kiSlmYdiy0?si=jmTNP5oLS1kshRiz
Harvard Film Archive
Napule de canzone.com:
https://www.napule-de-canzone.com/song/a_santanotte.html
https://www.napule-de-canzone.com/song/e_piccerella.html
Wikipedia/Sceneggiata:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sceneggiata
“Senza Mamma: From the film The Godfather * Part II.”
YouTube, uploaded by pondeflauers
https://youtu.be/7kiSlmYdiy0?si=jmTNP5oLS1kshRiz
COPYRIGHT 2012/2026. Paulette Reynolds. All CineMata Movie Madness blog articles, reviews, faux interviews, commentary, and the Cine Mata character are under the sole ownership of Paulette Reynolds. All intellectual and creative rights reserved.
