Across the River: A Director's Vision Born from Abandoned Places

Across the River: A Director's Vision Born from Abandoned Places Lorenzo Bianchini's film Across the River emerges from the haunting landscapes of Friuli-Venezia Giulia's abandoned mountain villages. In this intimate conversation, the director reveals how location inspires story, and why less can be more in creating cinematic fear. How do locations influence your storytelling process? For me, the idea always comes from the places themselves. Usually when I think of images, I write a story around them. "Ravice di Tre" was born from the underground of this immense school where we filmed. Across the River came from exploring almost all the abandoned villages in the mountains of Friuli-Venezia Giulia, until I arrived in Topolò, which immediately fascinated me—especially the lower, oldest part of the town. What drew you specifically to Topolò? Topolò is located in the Natisone valleys in Eastern Friuli, and there's something mysterious about its geography. Most of the exteriors were shot there. The protagonist, Marco Marchese, approaches this town slowly, exploring it, and we follow him to understand this enigmatic place. The location becomes almost a character itself. Tell us about working with Marco Marchese. Marco was the face that accompanied me during all the scriptwriting I did with my sister. I met him in 2007 during the shooting of "Occhi," and I remembered his very particular expressiveness. I immediately realized he was the right actor for this new adventure. Initially, I thought it would just be me and him with my old Panasonic DVX100, going into the mountains.

How did the production expand from that initial vision? I contacted cinematographer Daniele Trani, who had worked on films by another friend of mine. He was immediately interested, and from there it grew like a chain of connections. Eventually, we had 8 or 9 people for the shooting phase—not many, but the right ones to work with tranquility. What were the shooting conditions like? We had to shoot in December, an extremely cold period. We all stayed in Monteprato in this big mountain house belonging to my relatives. The context was beautiful but stressful—going to sleep at 3 AM, waking at 9 AM in freezing cold. The only way to warm this huge house was starting fires with wood. There were problems with smoking chimneys initially. These experiences feel uncomfortable when you live them, but they remain in your heart for life. How has your approach to horror evolved over five feature films? Since 1997, I've gradually subtracted elements, showing less and less of the things that create anxiety and fear. I prefer that the atmosphere speaks rather than explicit horror elements. The fear you imagine leads to your deepest anxieties—that's where you sense something's there without knowing what it is. That's realistic and true. Return to Across the River