Interview with Maura Delpero

The film depicts a pivotal period in history, exploring the conflicts between tradition and modernity through life in a remote Alpine village. How did you tackle the challenge of portraying this world, balancing historical authenticity and personal narrative? Vermiglio delves into a universe that is both intimate and collective, where the past intertwines with personal memories.

“I believe that every film needs a strong sentiment at its core—an internal energy that sustains you emotionally through the years it takes to complete a project. This is what gives meaning to filmmaking. However, transforming a personal inspiration into a shared experience, especially for an international audience, requires deep reflection and revision.

I analyzed the film from the very beginning, trying to answer the key question: can this story be universal? I felt that my father’s dream, set during a time when Italy was transitioning from a war-torn world to the one we inherited, held the key to this universality. This dream wasn’t just a fragment of my family’s story or the village my paternal family comes from; it also represented a piece of Italy’s history.

I wanted to look back at our ‘other yesterday’: the impoverished Italy emerging from the war, forced to emigrate, and the foundation upon which our society was built. From a broader anthropological and socio-political perspective, it seemed like a moment that could spark profound reflections.

Moreover, I realized that, as in all families, there are great stories that touch on universal themes—life, death, desire. These themes go beyond the personal and resonate deeply with the human experience. In the United States recently, I witnessed people from diverse backgrounds and experiences immediately connect with my film. This shows how those themes are truly universal, transcending the specific context of my story.”

Women play a central role in your work, and in Vermiglio there is a noticeable evolution, with a greater male presence compared to your previous films. How did you balance these two narrative worlds, and what motivated you to broaden the focus on male characters? Tell us how you chose to represent this dynamic and what intrigued you about giving a voice to the male characters as well.

“In my previous films, such as “Maternal” and “Nadea e Sveta”, I depicted worlds where men were almost entirely absent, and including them would have felt artificial, a forced choice. In Vermiglio, however, I portray a world where men are present, but with an internal imbalance caused by the war. War deprives society of a fundamental part of its population—men of conscription age.

The male characters I wanted to represent in this film are ‘broken,’ deeply affected by the experience of war. On one side, there are the soldiers who return, carrying with them something so tragic that it becomes almost unspeakable. On the other, there are the men who stayed behind, forced to take the place of those who are no longer there.

I was drawn to the idea of portraying the figure of the schoolmaster father, inspired by my grandfather, because he embodies a balance between the old and the new, even within the masculine. On one hand, he is a patriarch; on the other, he reveals a sensitivity and openness of mind that set him apart from the average man of his time.”

The mountainous landscape in Vermiglio is more than just a backdrop; it becomes a silent protagonist, reflecting the emotions and conflicts of the characters. What role did the setting play in shaping your narrative, and what were your artistic or literary references? We would love to know how the landscape influenced your creative and storytelling approach.

“That place permeated me while I was writing. I often go to live and write in the locations I choose to tell about, fully exposing myself through all five senses. Even though cinema is limited to audiovisual expression and cannot involve touch or smell, I believe that if, as an author and individual, you deeply immerse yourself in a place, this experience can be conveyed and reach the audience. The mountains in “Vermiglio” are deeply personal to me: I’ve always spent time there, and I still have a house in the area. It’s a world-place, a culture-place.

The mountains have their own way of being, a way of life that reflects both the hardness and the beauty of those heights. Telling the story of what it means to live at the foot of those majestic and ever-present mountains, in a time when the cold could be deadly, was fundamental to the film.Nature in this context is almost Leopardian: indifferent, distant, yet powerful. Human beings move within it with the awareness of their smallness compared to its immensity.”

The children in “Vermiglio” seem to play a fundamental role, bringing lightness and even smiles to a story filled with deep themes such as grief and pain, as highlighted by some reviews. How did you approach the representation of the children to create this second narrative layer, and how do their dialogues and interactions enrich the overall story?

“For me, children are precious, and portraying a large family with many children was both a challenge and a gift. I felt that, despite the difficulty, it was essential to represent this multiplicity, this group. On one hand, there is my love for childhood; on the other, my commitment to directing actors and casting, a part of the work I approach with great dedication and attention over time.

When the children arrive on set, they are already part of a world, of a family: they become brothers and sisters, the spaces become their spaces, the beds become their beds. There isn’t much improvisation because I work with a precise script, the result of extensive work, including with them. I write dialogues and words that naturally fit their voices and their way of being. If this ultimately works, I believe it is a matter of love, patience, and, above all, not making children act like adults. I don’t ask them to imitate adults but to maintain their authentic perspective. For me, it’s natural to empathize: when I write a child’s dialogue, I feel like a child myself.”

The film Vermiglio is the result of an international collaboration between Italian, French, and Belgian production companies. How did you choose your production and distribution partners for this project? What criteria were decisive in your decision to work with companies like Cinedora, Charades Production, and Versus Production, and how did these collaborations influence the final outcome of the film?

“Choosing the right partners is crucial because they become deeply involved in the heart of the film. It’s a decision that requires significant time and consideration, knowing it can lead to either great rewards or challenges.

Cinedora was born from the desire to create a production company based on a collaborative and horizontal model, where colleagues with prior experience could work together, focusing on auteur films. The idea is to work as a team in an inclusive manner, giving significant responsibility to the director or writer.

The choice of partners was influenced by relationships built in the past and the desire to continue positive collaborations. For instance, with Charades, I had already worked on Maternal, my first fiction film, where they served as international sales agents. For Vermiglio, they returned as both international sales agents and producers. The partnership with Versus Production was an organic choice, as I had previously collaborated with the editor, an Italian living in Belgium. As for Lucky Red, they had already been the Italian distributor for Maternal and had done an excellent job, showing confidence in a challenging film for the Italian market. They gave great visibility to the film as a debut work, so it was natural for me to confirm these partners both on the production and distribution sides.”

What is your relationship with contemporary American cinema? Do you see any points of connection with some current directors, or do you consider your approach, particularly the narrative rhythm of “Vermiglio”, as an alternative response? American cinema often favors faster rhythms and tighter narrative structures, while Vermiglio follows a more meditative and reflective pace.”

“I have to be honest, my primary cinematic references are European and Asian cinema, which I feel closer to. That said, I have been pleasantly surprised by the fact that, so far, my encounters with American audiences have been marked by absolute connection. I’ve felt that my language, despite being in countertrend compared to more conventional approaches, has been understood and appreciated. The audience has shown gratitude, and this makes me think that there is room, even here in the United States, for a cinema with a different rhythm.