Observational cinema is something of a myth, as no documentarist worth their salt entirely leaves everything to chance. Each image that appears on screen is the result of a conscious choice, whether it's related to the positioning of the camera or the way in which the footage is cut together. In preparing for this study of life on the edge of the Sicilian margin, Michele Pennetta spent many months researching the lie of the land and getting to know his subjects so that they could be as spontaneous as possible when he started shooting.
This blurring of the lines might irk the purists, but it enables Pennetta to understand the domestic dynamics between Marco Prestifilippo and sons Oscar and Roberto, as they eke out a meagre living by scavenging scrap metal from tips and abandoned mines. Similarly, he is able to capture the banter between Nigerian buddies Stanley Abhulimen and Blessed Idahosa, as the former takes a variety of menial jobs to feed the latter while he awaits the verdict of his visa application.
Despite their contrasting daily grinds, both Oscar and Stanley feel isolated and unappreciated. They have their moments of release, with Oscar freewheeling his bike down steep hills and Stanley swimming in the sea, dancing and playing basketball. But nothing Oscar does is good enough for an endlessly critical father who can't forgive him for reporting past beatings to the police, while Stanley is hurt by Blessed's lack of faith and gratitude for the effort he puts into cleaning the local church, toiling in a vineyard and herding sheep.
Such religious iconography recurs right up to the pastiche of William Holman Hunt's ‘The Light Of The World’ painting that presages the strangers meeting in a wordless denouement that could be a miracle or a dream. Either way, its simplicity leaves a deep impression.