I met Carlo Mazzacurati when we were part of the editorial staff of Babilonia, a Canale 5 show. His considerable talent was immediately evident, and he was also very nice, cultured and funny, qualities that his shyness often kept concealed. What really moved me when I started following his work was witnessing the extraordinary journey of an author capable of revealing with images and words his love and respect for cinema and for human beings.
Mario Canale
In the 70s I met Carlo at Cinema1, a small theater in Padua. In discussions that lasted for hours, we talked a lot about everything but especially about movies and books. There was the intoxication of American writers: Chandler and Cain, John O’Hara, Truman Capote, John Cheever. Then the outsiders: “The Star Ticket” by Aksionov and “Famous Potatoes” by Joe Cottonwood or “The Dance of the Dogfish” by Pomini. And of course Europeans like Roth. Then came the rediscovery of Italian authors from the Veneto area: Meneghello, Rigoni Stern, Zanzotto, Parise... The fascination for “The Dead Boy and the Comets” and “The Handsome Priest” that then, years later, we would turn into films.
The 70s in Padua. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t easy. All you needed was long hair and an R4 car and you were stopped by the police and carabinieri. And Carlo had an R4 and long hair. He looked like Björn Borg's older brother. Blond, blue eyes, a light beard on his chin, hair on his shoulders: a slightly Swedish beauty. Then came the time to test ourselves, to see if our passions could become a profession. As in the finale of I vitelloni, goodbye to the province. A new city: Rome.
Enzo Monteleone
