Iggy showed the error of human existence, the breathless nearness of death, and the lure of fun and action. He was like a much better-looking version of Schopenhauer.

Strangeness is everywhere, but strangers are only where we define them.

To what extent can a revolution of the inner world impact the external, material world surrounding us?

Cosa porterà il prossimo bit? Sconvolgenti novità? Semplice ridondanza?

Around 2007 I had the idea of making a feature film about a German woman who is kidnapped in Iraq. It was supposed to be a chamber piece, shot on two intradiegetic cameras.

Do I really know the person I’ve watched every day on screen for months? I know many things, like where he is, where he comes from, what his home looks like, when he gets up and sleeps, etc. But do I really know him?