Certainly, in Italy, nobody takes light for granted.
After all, film is so porous, and to my mind, so oddly occult, that I think that film itself absorbs odd energies like a living skin.
It is interesting to note that the best periods of Italian Horror films came out of the Sixties, when Italy was enjoying a carnival period of phenomenal optimism, and the shadowy side surfaced with all of its attendant dark, beautiful, baroque, catholic symbolism.
I was obliged to stand there, holding the leash of this creature for their welcoming publicity shots, implying that this was some kind of image the decided to have of me.
I didn't have any agent; I've never had an agent.
Italian cameramen grow up immersed in an awareness of light. It is part of their mythology.
I don't have an objective overview of Black Sunday.
If you were out of a job and your kid needed diapers and your husband just left you, you would be so confused.
The crew, like all Italian crews, was generous, warm, and enthusiastic.
