The mountains of the Calabrian Apennines are reflected in the sea, they seem empty, scattered. But if you look close enough, between the centuries-old trees and the roads climbing towards the sky, there is nothing fuller. The mountains send out frequencies that stir; they absorb and reflect light. They are like the Lyman forest, up there in the cosmos, allowing us to see hydrogen between the absorption lines. Sandra Savaglio could only return here, after a life spent in the world's best astrophysics centers, to a place that mirrors the mysteries of space. Among dogs, grandchildren, internationally renowned astrophysicists, admirers, priests, unfinished buildings, centuries-old trees, rubbish in the streets and stars visible as in few other parts of the world. All this while waiting for a supernova to explode. In the end, Sandra would like only this: a light so powerful that it fills the sky and illuminates her land.
Science in documentaries is dissemination. It is putting scientific theories into simple words, to make the viewer understand the rules that rule our world. But science in cinema can and should be something else. For instance, it may talk about human beings. Using events far apart in time and space, such as the explosion of a supernova, to explore troubled hearts. The film is about Sandra Savaglio, one of Italy's leading astrophysicists who one day suddenly decided to come back to her anonymous village in Calabria. But it is not a biography. For it is also about her niece Craterina who would like to move away but is chained to her land, about Angelo who would like to restart an abandoned planetarium, about Emiliano and his procession of saints. For us, this is science in cinema: the sky connecting with the earth. It is Sandra who cleans away the dust that blocks our view of the light of the galaxies, showing us an absurd cosmic entity called Calabria.
Anna D’Urbano (post-produzione)
Sandra Savaglio