In the Glow of the City: Lighting Urban Space as an Expressive Tool in the Cinema of Bernardo Bertolucci

In Bernardo Bertolucci’s cinema, the relationship between human bodies and urban space plays a prominent role. One of the features that characterize this relationship is light. Lighting is designed by the director and his collaborators to support their artistic visions; it becomes an immaterial element that gives visual concreteness to the mood and themes of the film. Light can thus function as a mediating element that creates connections between urban landscape and the inner worlds of the characters, or it can accentuate the protagonists’ positions within their socio-cultural contexts. Bertolucci has always filmed spaces that have a strong relationship with his biography and the passions that animated his artistic career or political beliefs. The on-screen transfiguration of these spaces coincides with a process of transformation of reality into a cinematic image that is inevitably mediated by cinephilia¹Marcello Garofalo, “Dopo la rivoluzione”, in Prima della rivoluzione oggi, ed. Marcello Garofalo (Milano: La nave di Teseo, 2024), 13-27.: his burning passion for films is deeply rooted in the theories and practices of the French Nouvelle Vague²Carlo Ugolotti, “Schermo, schermo delle mie brame: l’esperienza cinefila di Attilio, Bernardo e Giuseppe Bertolucci” in Cinergie – il cinema e le altre arti, no. 26 (2024), 169–181.. As we shall see, filming urban space using lighting “à la von Sternberg’ or ‘à la Godard” allows the frame to be overloaded with intertextual references, as well as satisfying the cinephile taste of the director who wants to be inscribed within a specific tradition of film history. 

The aim of this article is to analyze how the relationship between light and urban spaces is substantiated throughout Bertolucci’s filmography and how it defines the emotional environment of the filmed spaces. Each of his films is characterized by a specific “photogenie of the city”.³Michele Guerra, “Fotogenia delle città”, in Città e luce: fenomenologia del paesaggio illuminato, ed. F. Zanella (Parma: Festival Architettura Edizioni, 2008), 41–49. In this article we will focus on the three cities that recur most frequently in his filmography — Parma, Rome, and – and we will investigate how Bertolucci enriched the cinematic spaces with atmospheric effects, such as lights and shadows, in order to add further layers of signification to the images. By cinematic space, we refer to the space created in a film through the interaction between the pro-filmic elements, the camera’s positioning, and other aspects of the mise-en-scène, such as lighting, as well as elements from the post-production phase, like editing. Cinematic space is, therefore, shaped by the interaction between the filmed space and the expressive intentions of the director and cinematographer.

Since his early films, such as Before the Revolution (1964), Bertolucci rejected the immediacy of reproduction; he used all filmic features at his disposal (such as camera movements and anti-naturalistic lighting) to transcend pure mimesis and to infuse the images with layers of symbolic meaning. It is no coincidence that Pier Paolo Pasolini identified Bertolucci as an exponent of a “cinema of poetry”, opposed to a traditional “cinema of prose”.⁴Pier Paolo Pasolini, “Il cinema di poesia” (first published 1972), in Prima della rivoluzione oggi, ed. Marcello Garofalo (Milano: La nave di Teseo, 2024), 309–311. By analyzing relevant case studies from his filmography,⁵Although there are scenes set in Rome and Parma, we have chosen not to include Partner (1968) and La luna (1979) in this analysis. we will investigate how Bertolucci’s ways of filming urban spaces are strongly intertwined with his (evolving) aesthetics. As we shall see, Bertolucci and his collaborators transform the lighting of the filmed space into various narrative tools that unlock the expressive potential of the profilmic.

Parma: The City’s Light vs. the Chiaroscuro of the Interiors

In 1976, Bertolucci stated that his involvement with the direction of light began on the set of The Spider’s Stratagem (1970).⁶T. Jefferson Kline, I film di Bernardo Bertolucci. Cinema e psicoanalisi (Roma: Gremese, 1993), 69. Although Bertolucci identifies The Spider’s Strategem as the beginning of his artistic work with light, earlier films already display his dedication to the use of light for cinematic purposes. In his second film, Before the Revolution, the relationship between light and urban space plays a pivotal role in his cinematic storytelling. The main character of the film, Fabrizio (Francesco Barilli), faces an identity crisis after he rejects his family background; Parma, the protagonist’s (and Bertolucci’s) hometown, embodies the bourgeois lifestyle and its moral code. The break with the past is triggered by his encounter with Gina (Adriana Asti), his aunt from Milan, with whom he embarks on a tumultuous love affair.

While Bertolucci’s first film La commare secca (1962) – set in Rome – represents a break from his maestro Pier Paolo Pasolini, Before the Revolution is the filmic expression of Bertolucci’s own rupture from his father figure, Attilio, a famous poet from Parma.⁷Gabriella Pozzetto, Bernardo Bertolucci: cinema di mistero e bellezza (Milano: Ancora, 2024), 32. Bertolucci declared on several occasions that he wanted to symbolically kill his father by taking the “Parma metaphor” away from him⁸Marcello Garofalo, “Dopo la rivoluzione”, 13-27.: filming the city was a way to declare the autonomy of his artistic vision. For him, it apparently meant rejecting his father’s poetic language and replacing it with cinema. However, Bertolucci was unable to totally detach himself from poetry, his first passion. The screenplay is rich of atmospheric descriptions and contains literary phrases such as “the road is lost among the fields in faint backlighting”⁹Bernardo Bertolucci, “Prima della rivoluzione” (original screenplay, 1964), in Prima della rivoluzione oggi, ed. by Marcello Garofalo (Milano: La nave di Teseo, 2024), 27-302 (42)., or in the written version of Scene 40, where the shadows of Parma are transformed into rhythm, revealing a symphony of the city through the interplay of light and shadow: 

The shadows glide slowly over the plaster of houses, disappear in narrow doorways, to reappear equal and on the wall that begins again. Afternoon shadows mingle with them; the round wheels of a bicycle, the shadow of a poor dog, the projected image of a ragman pushing his cart. It is a symphony of shadows, with irregular tempos, a ballet full of dissonances.¹⁰Ibid.,180. 

The influence of the Nouvelle Vague is exemplified by the numerous strolls of the characters through urban space, shot in black and white by Aldo Scardova (with Vittorio Storaro as first assistant): unlike the scene described in the screenplay, in the film the light is flat and Parma is clearly illuminated (Figure 1). 

The absence of a strong contrast between light and shadows highlights the piazza and the building of Parmesan urban space. The walk of the two tormented protagonists of Before the Revolution allows immediate recognition of the sites frequented by the local bourgeoisie such as the Opera House, the Main Square, and the shopping streets. Tracking shots, edited with jump cuts, follow the characters throughout a brightly lit city. These camera movements are not only an homage to the flânerie through Paris in Nouvelle Vague films¹¹Veronica Pravadelli, “Prima della rivoluzione”, in Bernardo Bertolucci, ed. Giorgio De Vincenti (Venezia: Marsilio, 2016), 23–42 (38). but also a narrative device to strengthen the political content of Before the Revolution. In this cinematic version of a Bildungsroman,¹²Ibid., 24. Fabrizio’s walks around the city represent his search for a future, looking for alternative role-models and lifestyles, different from that of the Parmesan bourgeoise. Bertolucci contrasts the brightness of the exterior spaces with the strong chiaroscuro that organises the interiors (Fabrizio’s home and the Opera House), employing spatial ruptures that distance the human figures. The scene at the Teatro Regio, Parma’s Opera House, marks the moment where the tensions between Fabrizio and Gina explode (Figure 2). While tracking shots during the stroll scene generate a unified and bright image of the city, the scene at the Teatro Regio shows an overexposed artificiality¹³Alessandro Marini, Bertolucci, il cinema, la letteratura il caso di Prima della Rivoluzione, (Alessandria: Edizioni Falsopiano, 2014), 213. and theatricality: the light separates spaces and isolates sections of bodies and architecture to emphasise the dilemmas of the characters. The selective, stark contrasts of black and white, combined with the use of blur, further emphasize the visual (and social) barriers that keep the lovers from reuniting.

In a 1964 review, film critic Morando Morandini defined the use of light in Before the Revolution as having a “lyrical function”.¹⁴Morando Morandini, “Passione e ideologia in Prima della rivoluzione” (first published in 1964), in Prima della rivoluzione oggi, ed. by Marcello Garofalo (Milano: La nave di Teseo, 2024), 315-322 (317). In his view, the entire film overcomes a documentary connotation by turning the filmed spaces into “places of memory”¹⁵Ibid., 321.. Bertolucci blends his admiration for the Nouvelle Vague with his complex feelings of attraction and repulsion toward the bourgeois environment of Parma, along with his personal recollections, transcending a mere objective reproduction of the city. The interaction between light and urban space creates a cinematic double of Parma; the city depicted in this film is not a realistic replica of the real space, but rather a fusion of the director’s vision, cultural influences, and personal memories. Film scholar Alessandro Marini described Parma in Before the Revolution as a “dreamt” city¹⁶Alessandro Marini, Bertolucci, il cinema, la letteratura il caso di Prima della Rivoluzione, 71., emphasizing the interplay between the actual locations and Bertolucci’s emotional involvement in the act of filming. In his later works, Bertolucci often “returned” to Parma, filming it directly, but also seeking it in other locations, such as China. Discussing The Last Emperor (1987), the director noted that the dominant colour of Imperial Beijing was Giallo Parma, and the atmosphere of the Chinese riverbanks evoked the River Po.¹⁷Stefano Socci, Bernardo Bertolucci, (Roma: Il castoro, 1995), 73. 

Rome and Paris: Emotional and Descriptive Urban Landscapes 

In 1970, working on The Spider’s Stratagem Bertolucci cooperated with Vittorio Storaro as cinematographer for the first time. This relationship expanded the director’s knowledge about the potential of light and his direct involvement in the practices of cinematography. Storaro and Bertolucci filmed this drama about the mythography of the Resistance using an evocative palette of light blue, composing shots that reference the paintings of Antonio Ligabue, the Yugoslavian naives, and René Magritte.¹⁸Gabriella Pozzetto, Bernardo Bertolucci: cinema di mistero e bellezza, 82. The Spider’s Stratagem is the first film in which Bertolucci explores colour and coloured lighting. Storaro guides him through this new approach to aesthetics and staging, which necessitates a rethinking of his filmmaking style up until that point. In the same year, Bertolucci and Storaro worked together on the set of The Conformist, a film that can be considered a tipping point when analyzing the director’s use of light. During the shooting, Bertolucci became fully aware of the potential of light as a tool to support the narration and deepen the psychology of the characters. Storaro stated during an interview that “certain kinds of light manipulation generate certain kinds of emotion”.¹⁹Paolo Bertetto, “Un percorso di luce. Intervista di Paolo Bertetto”, in Vittorio Storaro. Un percorso di luce, ed. Paolo Bertetto (Torino: Umberto Allemandi & Co., 1989), 81-93 (82). Bertolucci described his collaboration with Storaro as a quest to explore the intimate connection between light and shadow, and between the conscious and the unconscious.²⁰Gabriella Pozzetto, Bernardo Bertolucci: cinema di mistero e bellezza, 89-90. 

In their films, light is manipulated according to the filmmakers’ expressive sensibilities, becoming a tool that supports their authorship. The visual style of The Conformist is multifaceted, adapting to the various temporalities and geographies of the narrative. The film alternates between the murderous mission of Marcello (Jean-Louis Trintignant) in Paris, his childhood memories, and the flashback of his recruitment by the OVRA (Fascist Secret Police) in Rome. Each sequence adopts a distinct visual style, yet all come together as parts of a cohesive visual discourse. The varying uses of light emphasize Marcello’s psychological transformation; these developments are also reflected in the cinematic portrayal of urban spaces.

The analysis of the use of light in film cannot exclude its relationship to set design and other features of the mise-en-scène.²¹Sara Martin, Scenografia e scenografi (Milano: il castoro, 2013), 7. The aesthetics of The Conformist result from the collaboration between set designer Ferdinando Scarfiotti, director Bertolucci, and cinematographer Storaro. Together, they worked closely to craft a nuanced and cohesive visual representation of Paris and Rome. Bertolucci, Storaro and Scarfiotti recreated Rome in the fascist era without any realistic connotations, it is rather a blend of cultural references and filmic quotations (i.e. the design of the Italian fascist comedies and the set of the films by Josef von Sternberg, Ernst Lubitsch and Max Ophüls).²²Stefano Masi, Costumisti e scenografi del cinema italiano. Vol. II (L’Aquila: Istituto cinematografico dell’Aquila “La lanterna magica”, 1990), 138; Gabriella Pozzetto, Bernardo Bertolucci: cinema di mistero e bellezza, 96. In The Conformist, the aesthetics of urban space is based on a mix of classical forms, cinephile recollections and modernist influences such as Giorgio De Chirico’s paintings. The filmmakers designed the sets to evoke a sense of claustrophobia and anxiety. To heighten this feeling, the buildings are shot using distorted angles. Rome, in this film, is synthetically visualized by huge corridors, marble floors, and a juxtaposition of black and white architectural features that generate an idealized and metaphysical setting.²³Giulio Cattivelli, “Il conformista” in Libertà, 13 March 1971, 8. The representation of the Italian capital in The Conformist is not a historical reconstruction, but rather a symbolic reenactment of the Fascist era. 

The lighting carves out portions of urban space, highlighting the rationalist design of Fascist architecture. Storaro uses contrasting contours to define the environment through oppositions, isolating architectural forms. Shots are divided by geometric elements, and human figures seem likewise oppressed through a play of symmetry and lines. The screenwriter Marilyn Goldin, who would later collaborate with Bertolucci on his unfinished project Red Harvest, described the lighting in The Conformist as being used in a “cruel” manner²⁴Marilyn Goldin, “Ogni relazione sessuale è condannata” (first published in 1972), in Cinema la prima volta. Conversazioni sull’arte e la vita, ed. by Tiziana Lo Porto (Roma: Minimum Fax, 2016), 88-96 (90).: light reveals both characters and environments, although sometimes disclosing only part of them. Marcello appears small and caged inside the frame.²⁵Gabriella Pozzetto, Bernardo Bertolucci: cinema di mistero e bellezza, 104. A strongly contrasted illumination accentuates the bright materiality of the marbles and the sharply-edged angles of governmental buildings. Light helps to create a visual environment rooted in totalitarian imagery²⁶Piero Spila, Il cinema di Bernardo Bertolucci, (Roma: Gremese, 2020), 88. – imagery that draws not only from the historical sources of fascist Italy, but also from a blend of cinephilic memories, 1930s aesthetics, and a psychoanalytic interpretation of the regime. Light and set design create symmetries that trap the characters in a somber atmosphere. The lighting is cold, devoid of any attempt at realism;²⁷Stefano Masi, Costumisti e scenografi del cinema italiano. Vol. II, (L’Aquila: Istituto cinematografico dell’Aquila “La lanterna magica”, 1990), 138. instead, it serves to evoke the sense of oppression in a totalitarian society.

A good example for this use of light and contrast is the asylum-scene, partially shot at the Ara Pacis. The set designer built a two metres-long walkway so the darkness of the costumes could stand out against the whiteness of the architecture. Scarfiotti described this set as “infinite and superhuman”, as it embodies Fascist mythology, ranging from the cult of Ancient Rome to the myth of the Nietzschean Übermensch.²⁸Gabriella Pozzetto, Bernardo Bertolucci: cinema di mistero e bellezza, 97. In this scene, light highlights certain areas while also serving a scenographic purpose: the setting becomes a theatrical backdrop that overwhelms the human figure. A similar mise-en-scène is employed in the scene where the inmates are gathered and Marcello meets his father, shot at the EUR (Esposizione Universale Roma, a Fascist-built district in Rome). Every element of the scene is illuminated, with the director and cinematographer creating a symmetrical balance of colours and light. Once again, the recreation of the past does not aim for realism, but instead provides an interpretive representation of fascism.

Rome is not the only city featured in The Conformist; Paris is also recreated by Bertolucci, Scarfiotti, and Storaro in an impressionistic style. Though filmed on location, the French capital is depicted in an idealized manner: it is shown through the eyes of a foreigner, almost adopting a tourist’s perspective, with its iconic landmarks, such as the Eiffel Tower and the Trocadéro, dominating the cityscape. The scene of Fabrizio and Gina’s flânerie across Parma in Before the Revolution somewhat resembles Marcello’s stroll in The Conformist, but it takes him through a coldly-lit Paris, filmed in a detached manner, reflecting the emotional distance as he embarks on his murderous mission. Unlike the Roman setting, defined by rationalist architecture and stark black-and-white contrasts, Paris in The Conformist is filmed with a palette of muted blue tones. While Rome represents the regime, Paris reflects the troubled psyche of the protagonist (Figure 3).

In Last Tango in Paris (1972), Bertolucci, Storaro, and Scarfiotti applied the same approach to lighting as they did in The Conformist, using light as both an expressive and a narrative tool. In Last Tango in Paris, Paris is still filmed as a projection of the characters’ psychology, but this time, the story calls for a new approach to lighting. Storaro began designing the lighting for Last Tango in Paris during his location scouting in the city. He discovered that the boulevards of the French capital naturally emitted a warm halo, requiring no additional filters.²⁹Fabien. S. Gerard, “I principi delle tenebre”, in Bernardo Bertolucci, la strategia dell’inconscio (Roma: AnCCI,1996), 89-92. On the set, he combined his impressions with Goethe’s theory of colours, the optical studies of Newton and influences from psychoanalysis.³⁰Stefano Socci, Bernardo Bertolucci, 73. Storaro’s use of coloured lighting goes beyond simply adding colour to the scene; instead, he creates an atmosphere, uniting all the elements on set through light. Just as we saw in The Conformist, when light seeks to emphasize or obscure a particular element of the scene, coloured lighting also serves to connect the psychology of the characters, the set design, and the director’s perspective. Storaro sought to design a lighting scheme that would encompass both the human figures and the city. Thus, light is conceived as an “in-between” mise-en-scène device, serving as a cohesive link between various compositional and narrative elements. As a result, the actors on the boulevards are surrounded by the same halos, creating a unifying light that establishes an immediate connection between the characters’ bodies and minds, as well as the architecture.

The lighting of the city in Last Tango in Paris reflects the psychology of the characters, much like in The Conformist, but with distinct chromatic variations to enhance the mood and atmosphere of the erotic melodrama. According to Storaro, the contrast between the natural light of a sunset and the artificial light of the city allowed for a full expression of the characters’ emotions.³¹Paolo Bertetto, “Un percorso di luce. Intervista di Paolo Bertetto”, 81. The light, in this film, performs a pivotal function since it focuses the viewer’s eyes on the human bodies, with a strong red, orange, and yellow colour valence. These colours enhance both the inner dimension of the characters – their emotional and sexual drives – and their corporeity. Coloured light brings together the various elements of the plot and mise-en-scène, evoking the emotional and atmospheric resonance of the film for the viewer. Light thus helps the director to create a cohesive discourse on aesthetics and emotion that seamlessly integrates light, architecture, and characters.

In later years, Bertolucci revisited a lighting style reminiscent of the stroll sequences in Before the Revolution. He began to collaborate with the cinematographer Fabio Cianchetti on the set of Besieged (1998). In this drama about the relationship between an African maid and her employer, light is not used psychologically but instead serves a simpler, more descriptive function. Storaro’s conceptual lighting has been replaced by Cianchetti’s seemingly natural approach. In the films shot with Cianchetti, coloured light is not used to emphasize the emotional state of the characters, but rather maintains an apparent neutrality. The cinematographer’s choices appear more spontaneous, restoring a realistic tone: the interplay between light and shadow places the character within the urban space. Cianchetti used lighting “in a discreet manner”³²Ludovico Cantisani, “Ritorno all’immediatezza. Conversazione con Fabio Cianchetti sulla collaborazione con Bernardo Bertolucci”, https://www.artdigiland.com/blog/2021-07-26-conversazione-con-fabio-cianchetti [last accessed: 31/01/2025].: on one hand, to allow the camera to move freely, and on the other, to avoid an overt intrusion of the cinematography into the scene.

Cianchetti’s lighting and his portrayal of urban spaces — Rome in Besieged and Paris in The Dreamers (2003) – retain documentary connotations, in contrast to the idealized and metaphysical images created by Storaro. The significance of seemingly natural light is evident in the depiction of urban space, as it grounds the narrative in a specific geographical context, rather than delving into the psychology of the characters. Similar to the flânerie in Before the Revolution, the opening walk of the protagonist through Paris in The Dreamers places him among the symbolic landmarks of the French capital, ultimately leading him to the Cinémathèque, a central location in the film’s plot. The lighting serves a clarifying purpose, not aiming to create introspective descriptions. In The Dreamers, the psychological development of the characters is conveyed without explicit manipulation of the light (Fig. 4). The city and its lights do not mirror the characters’ emotions; instead, the cinematic space refrains from emphasizing the main themes of the film—cinephilia, sexual desire, and politics. Paris in The Dreamers is limited to a few symbolic sites crucial to the narrative, such as the Cinémathèque, the Eiffel Tower, the boulevard where the riot broke out, and the movie theatre. The cinematographer guides the viewer’s focus throughout the film. Most of the story unfolds in interiors, where Cianchetti opts to shoot with just one light per shot, aiming to be as unobtrusive as possible.³³Ibid.

The last of Bertolucci’s films, Me and You (2012), was also shot by Cianchetti. This drama, inspired by Niccolò Ammaniti’s homonymous novel, tells the story of the difficult relationship between a teenage boy, Lorenzo (Jacopo Olmo Antinori), and his drug addicted step-sister Olivia (Tea Falco). Although being set in Rome, the city itself is never shown as the action takes place almost entirely in a basement. While the use of light in Besieged and The Dreamers is similar, with  the lighting remaining straightforward and simple, darkness dominates the images in Me and You, since it is set in a basement. The few light sources — lamps and candles — are framed within the shot. The dominant use of diegetic light prevents the cinematography from making an expressive intrusion into the filmic space. By exposing these light sources, Cianchetti offers a direct and seemingly natural representation of the space, avoiding any unnecessary layers of complexity.

Conclusion 

This article has examined urban spaces in Bernardo Bertolucci’s films in relation to the expressive needs of each work. Despite the differences between them, it is clear how Bertolucci transforms filmed space into an emotional and narrative landscape. In his films, aided by the use of lighting, cinematic spaces function in three distinct ways: first, as spaces of narration where the characters move; second, as spaces in which the interiority of the characters is projected; and third, as symbolic spaces where the film’s themes are “embodied” by the architectural and landscape features. Furthermore, the lighting choices enable the intrusion of a cinephilic universe into the film text and its spaces, enriching the frame with subtexts derived from filmic (or pictorial) references.

Throughout Bertolucci’s filmography, the mise-en-scène evolves to meet the director’s narrative needs. The analysis of these case studies reveals how Bertolucci’s style has been shaped by his collaborators. His partnerships with various cinematographers demonstrate how these synergies can create distinct approaches to transforming urban space and its illumination into narrative tools, far removed from mimetic intentions. Bertolucci develops a unique directing style in collaboration with his set designers and cinematographers for each city and each story he aims to bring to the big screen. In Before the Revolution and the films made with Cianchetti, a more subtle approach to lighting prevails, highlighting the real environment by emphasizing the character’s movement within the set, and thus, urban space itself. In contrast, in the films shot by Storaro, light reinterprets the set entirely: cinematic space ceases to be a direct representation of real geography and instead becomes a projection surface for the characters’ psychology or an architectural embodiment of the historical context in which the story unfolds.

In an interview published in 1968, Bertolucci highlighted the connection between light, film-making and cinephilia:

I love two things in cinema: time and light. […] You do not forget the light of a film. There is a light in The Rule of the Game, announcing the beginning of the war; there is a light in Journey to Italy, announcing L’Avventura and all modern cinema; and there is a light in Breathless announcing the 1960s. I think in a way there is also a light in Before the Revolution.³⁴Bernardo Bertolucci, “L’ambiguità e l’incertezza allo specchio” (first published in 1968), in Prima della rivoluzione oggi, ed. by Marcello Garofalo (Milano: La nave di Teseo, 2024), 303-304.

Bertolucci’s style illustrates how topophilia can also be understood as cinephilia — both as an expression of his cultural influences and as a love for the act of filmmaking itself — and vice versa. This union between space and cinema is embodied through light: as cinematic light, it “represents a central element in the processes of formation and consolidation of attachment to places.”³⁵Davide Papotti, “Geografie della luce, Riflessioni sul ruolo dell’illuminazione nei paesaggi urbani”, in Città e luce: fenomenologia del paesaggio illuminato, ed. by F. Zanella. (Parma: Festival Architettura Edizioni, 2008), 73.

Sofia Panza

Sofia Panza (sofia.panza@unipr.it) is a Ph.D. student in Philological-Literary, Historical-Philosophical and Artistic Sciences at the University of Parma with a research project entitled Pre-production Film Traces: exploring the Bertolucci Archive. She holds a Master’s degree in Journalism and Multimedia Communication (University of Parma, 2022). She is Journal Manager of the academic journal Cinergie. Il cinema e le altre arti.

Carlo Ugolotti

Carlo Ugolotti (carlo.ugolotti@unipr.it) is currently post-doctoral researcher in Film Studies at the University of Parma. He holds a Ph.D. in History from the University of Turin (2017) and he is currently pursuing a Ph.D. in Cinema, Photography and Television at the University of Parma. Ugolotti is also post-doctoral researcher at the Istituto Storico della Resistenza e dell’Età Contemporanea. 

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