Bernardo Bertolucci 1941-2018

The year was 1977, brake in the seminar with Bertolucci. The place, corridor in front of the seminary room at the Department for theatre and film sciences, University of Stockholm, in Filmuset st the edge of the city, giving to Gärdet park. Bertolucci was standing alone, visibly nervous. I joined him, presenting myself. How is the event for you? He looked at me and surprised me with a frank admission: I do not understand a word of what your colleagues are talking about in there. I don’t know, but I am making my films more with my stomach then with my head, he said pointing under his belly. And they are talking politics only. My films are  about politics, yes, about the left, but communists are annoyed with what I do. They don’t like criticism, questioning them. I am having problems, I am obliged to defend myself in front of the leaders. Or rather I was attacked before this film, that somehow made me independent, place me as one of the handful that can lay out conditions even to Hollywood. I forced them to screen the two parts of the film simultaneously, not far from each other. I used ultimatum. I was asking about the details of his conflict with the party, but the brake was over and we had to return inside. Some years ago I slept over at a friend’s place at Trastevere in Rome. On the neighbour’s door I noticed a palate with Bernardo Bertolucci written on it.