The Geography of Independent Horror.

Alberto, your bio spans Milan, Turin, and Lucca. How do these three cities, each so distinct in terms of atmosphere and architecture, influence your horror aesthetic? Do you find that the Italian landscape still offers unexplored settings for the genre?

Absolutely! Each of these cities inspires me every day in every choice I make. However, lately—especially in the Turin that inspired Dario Argento and the Milan of the poliziotteschi crime films—I feel like these places are losing their identity, chasing a kind of progress that doesn't really belong to us. And, especially in Milan, we’re losing that sense of scenery so rich with stories. I think what inspires me most about these cities are the experiences I’ve had there, the people I’ve met, and the emotions they evoke. So yes, the architecture moves me, but I’m more drawn to the empty spaces between buildings, the vibes, the grit, the dust, and the characters that inhabit them.

 The Link Between Directing and Editing.

Beyond being a director, you started as a camera operator and editor. In horror cinema, rhythm and the way a scene is cut are essential to building tension or making the audience jump out of their seats. How much does knowing how to edit a film help you while you are still shooting it?

I started out as a camera operator and editor, which led me to develop a very visual approach to directing. When I think about a character or a story, I immediately start picturing which lens to use and what camera movement will tell it best. In Metus, for example, I opted for tracking shots—a slow, stealthy approach—shot on anamorphic lenses to emphasize the dreamlike quality of the situation. In Mark No Evil, on the other hand, I chose a handheld camera with shaky, raw movements that pair perfectly with that gritty, acidic exploitation aesthetic. I tend to favor very wide or very long focal lengths; I usually avoid mid-range lenses because they feel too neutral, too close to reality. In my projects, I prefer to reinvent the human gaze rather than imitate it. I find extreme lenses and unusual angles fun, and they often help make a scene more intense. To me, the camera is an actor in its own right. Editing always saves us when we realize we’ve gone a bit overboard with camera moves, haha!

The Oxymoron of METUS: "Either you laugh or you scream."

Your project METUS carries the tagline "Either you laugh or you scream." The boundary between grotesque terror and nervous laughter has always been one of the most fascinating territories in genre cinema. How did you balance these two extreme elements?

In Metus, the line between laughter and a scream is razor-thin. Partly because the laughter in this film is never peaceful or cathartic: it’s the laughter of someone who is running away, someone hiding. It’s triggered by a substance that fogs the mind and allows us, for a few moments, to ignore our problems. It’s the laughter of someone who deep down knows everything is falling apart. To stop inhaling would mean facing their own insecurities, which feel like something massive and monstrous. Laughter has always been a part of horror cinema. Most of the genre's most iconic characters laugh, or at least possess a certain unsettling smile. Think of Freddy Krueger, Art the Clown, Leatherface’s father in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, or the witch in Suspiria. They all laugh. It’s no coincidence that one of the genres that pairs best with horror is comedy. Together, they create the grotesque: an ambiguous territory where discomfort and amusement coexist. And let’s remember, before it was even called horror, it was called exactly that: the grotesque.

Roots and Influences in Genre Cinema.

Looking at your work, a strong visual identity comes through. Which directors or masters of cinema do you consider your main sources of inspiration, and what are your all-time favorite horror films—the ones that have shaped the way you make movies?

I absolutely love directors who have the courage to create their own worlds, their own aesthetics, and their own rules. The kind who, when you decide to watch their film, take you on a journey to uncharted territory. Especially in this age of standardization, I believe it’s crucial to make space for directors who aren't afraid to fail and who aren't looking for perfection, but rather for their own unique vision. They continue to inspire me every day—not least because they are often masters of low-budget filmmaking with strong, personal imagery. And what better medium than genre film to do that? I have to say that, even though I love horror and all my shorts are steeped in it, some of my mentors aren't horror directors, but auteurs with deep roots in the grotesque and the surreal. At the top of that list is Terry Gilliam. He hooked me from the very first moment with Brazil and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen. His vision of characters, his unsettling irony, the bizarre costumes, the imposing set designs, and finally, that drive to fight the world without necessarily conforming—it all threw me into an incredible, wild imaginary world. Right after him are directors who have a lot more in common with horror: Lloyd Kaufman with the trashy, extreme, and nonconformist world of Troma; Shinya Tsukamoto with his dreamlike, metallic universe that gets under your skin; Sam Raimi and Peter Jackson with their early work; and certainly our own homegrown authors like Lucio Fulci and Dario Argento. Taking Fulci’s The Beyond as an example, you can’t help but get lost inside a nightmare that leaves you completely rattled, and that had a huge influence on the making of Metus.

The Aesthetic of Mark No Evil.

In Mark No Evil, a dark, almost old-school yet highly stylized atmosphere emerges. What was the biggest visual challenge on set to successfully convey that sense of constant threat without falling into the genre's visual clichés?

In Mark No Evil, the gritty, acidic aesthetic was designed to highlight the bizarre, dualistic essence of the Italian countryside, especially in the North. It’s a reality that—unlike the vision of master Pupi Avati, who emphasizes the folklore and gothic atmosphere of these plains—shows a postmodern, desolate landscape. Here, nature is just a backdrop where factories, pre-fab villas, apartment blocks, highways, railways, and debris are thrown together almost geometrically. It’s the perfect setting to depict pseudo-modern farms and synthetic small towns where Sunday joggers go out for a run just to avoid spending time with their relatives. And why not add a lonely madman obsessed with anime soundtracks? This desolation helped us immensely in creating tension and suspense, which we then intentionally dampened before it became repetitive by using a more ironic and bizarre tone. This way, the splatter mixes with the comedy, and the grit of the situation blends everything together with authenticity, all while our protagonists move clumsily through this insane road trip.

The "Field" Experience with Maponos.

Among your projects, Maponos stands out, seemingly blending historical or mythological elements with a strong thriller/horror component in the heart of nature. What was it like moving the camera into such wild outdoor locations, and how does managing tension change compared to an indoor set?

Maponos was the first project where I decided to experiment and, above all, take more risks. Born as a pilot/teaser, it turned into a short action-suspense piece filmed entirely at some natural pools near Turin. Shooting in the woods was wonderful: the forest is an incredible source of inspiration. The hardest part was definitely moving on the rocks, especially for the actors in historical costume during the fight scenes. The help of historical reenactors was essential to make the film look more authentic and punchy, but I can’t deny that one of the best memories I have is using fake blood for the first time in a splatter scene.

Making Independent Horror in Italy Today.

Your bio mentions "DM open for collaborations," a sign of a strong openness toward the filmmaker community and network. How difficult, yet at the same time stimulating, is it to produce and distribute independent horror cinema in Italy right now?

I think one of the best things about this period—which is quite a sad one for genre cinema—is the sense of unity being created among the various authors and professionals in the industry. Many emerging directors, as well as established professionals, are coming together in small and large communities, and that’s a beautiful thing. Experiencing the genre not just as an artistic expression, but almost as a subculture that must be preserved, survive, and—at all costs—be reborn. However, that doesn't change the fact that this line of work is exhausting. Sometimes there doesn’t seem to be even a glimmer of hope. I often find myself writing while trying to fight off thoughts that say, “Why are you putting so much energy into something you might not even be able to shoot?” Between the money, funding, work, and the sheer difficulty of gaining experience, it’s really complicated to keep a clear head and keep looking toward the elsewhere. On my profile, like many other directors', there are photos of me holding awards or with an excited face at the premiere of one of our films. Photos that act like treasure chests for those moments. But all the other days are often a battle. A very internal one. I have to say that without the people who believed in me—starting with those who busted their tails on set, my friends, and how could I not mention "Il Gonz" from Drag Me To Fest—I probably would have quit years ago. I hope there will soon be more opportunities and more incentives for new directors, screenwriters, actors, and for everyone who wants to make genre cinema. And if there aren't improvements in society, I wish all new auteurs the strength to surround themselves with real people who believe in them, because that is who we owe everything to.

A Look at Tomorrow.

After the feedback on projects like METUS and Mark No Evil, curiosity surrounding your work is growing. What are your upcoming and future projects? Is there already a new nightmare in the works that you can give us a sneak peek of?

Any new projects? Absolutely! I can't stay still for a second. For now, I’m in the writing phase for two separate projects: a horror short, naturally with black humor undertones, destined for a larger project together with other directors from this new wave. And I’m finishing up the script for a feature film that I don’t want to spoil too much, but it will feature Marco from Mark No Evil in the role of the villain. Either way, it’s going to be full of blood, vomit, and laughs.