David Campanella
The Aesthetics of the Uncanny: Your work often shows a particular care for atmosphere and psychological tension. How do you manage, with typical indie budgets, to build a horror imagery that is visually rich and disturbing?
The word "uncanny" (perturbante) takes me back to my university years at DAMS at UNICAL – University of Calabria. My dear directing professor, Luigi Di Gianni—an original director of ethnographic documentaries and more, whose entire filmography can be seen on Rai Play—first explained the aesthetics of the "uncanny" during our early lessons. With Prof. Di Gianni, we watched and analyzed the best films of German Expressionism, the masterpieces of Carl Theodor Dreyer, and almost the complete filmography of Peter Greenaway.
He was an extraordinary teacher and man. During his "unforgettable" lessons, he gave me a playful nickname that I still remember today with nostalgia and love: for Prof. Di Gianni, I was THE HORRIFIC ONE (l'ORRORIFICO).
Anyway... it was only through meticulous study, blended with my "obsession" for Peter Jackson's gore, David Cronenberg's body horror, David Lynch's hallucinatory films, and Tim Burton's early visionary works, that I managed to acquire a certain level of theoretical and technical preparation. Having this significant cinematic background allows me today to create high-quality, well-conceived "horrific" imagery on a low budget.
I paid my dues working on short films, music videos, and features, often without even appearing in the credits as an assistant director. In reality, I covered multiple roles: from co-writer to lighting, camera operator, and eventually editing the footage myself. Then, with the advent of digital, I decided to produce low-budget films myself—pure independent quality cinema—leveraging all my technical knowledge and memories of a distant past.
I hope I’ve been clear enough; unfortunately, I have a "terrible and exhausting" habit of always finding a new formulaic approach regardless of the circumstances... you see, answering a seemingly simple question opens up old, forgotten worlds for me.
"OH! I almost forgot"... my thesis was supposed to be on the cinema of David Cronenberg, but in the end, the professor decided I would present Tim Burton for my graduation.
The Double Role: We often find you both behind and in front of the camera. How does being an actor influence your vision as a director when filming scenes of pure terror, and how do you maintain creative control while immersed in acting?
Acting in my own films is a choice directly related to the budget and its sad consequences. Let me explain: I discovered over time that in independent horror, it’s not hard to find collaborators behind the camera. The truly arduous and complicated task is finding semi-professional or aspiring actors who have the courage to face emotionally tough scenes—stripping themselves bare, both physically and emotionally, and getting "dirty."
For this reason, I can maintain control over both directing and acting: I’m not afraid to show myself as vulnerable, naked, or filthy, and above all, I’m not afraid to film myself in this "pure terror." Naturally, those assisting me know exactly what I want to capture and what I want to express.
Genre Roots: Italian horror has a glorious tradition. Do you feel more indebted to the classic Gothic strand (à la Mario Bava) or do you prefer exploring the more modern and visceral branches of the genre?
Certainly, "pure" Gothic films like Mario Bava's Black Sunday (La maschera del demonio), Riccardo Freda's I Vampiri, and some films by Antonio Margheriti still influence my idea of lighting a scene with a precise, studied chromatic atmosphere. For example, my film VISCERAL owes a lot to Blood and Black Lace, Beyond the Darkness (Buio Omega), and Death Smiled at Murder by Aristide Massaccesi—the only film the great Joe D'Amato signed with his real name.
Obviously, there is also a deep, persistent, and careful exploration of modern, visceral, corporeal, and extreme trends. Films by Domiziano Cristopharo, Alex Visani, Lorenzo Lepori, Patricio Valladares, and other excellent authors of the recent independent scene (whom I'm surely forgetting to mention) have "inspired" and "encouraged" me to shoot my "Indie" films, trying to show that little something extra, both in terms of story and effects.
Managing Fear: In your opinion, what is the most difficult element to convey to the audience today? Is it more a challenge of narrative pacing or the need to invent new "monsters" (whether human or supernatural)?
The most difficult element in independent horror today is creating an effective narrative sequence that truly makes the audience "shiver" or feel "anxious," not just through the use of ultra-gore effects. I believe it is essential to narrate something plausible and tied to the audience's own fears. We live in a reality where consciousness is communal; we’ve seen everything. We have seen real-world horrors that have far surpassed cinematic ones.
The real challenge is writing a script—be it a short or a feature—that shakes the viewer to the core, balancing dialogue, action, and gore, while introducing a "monster" (real or supernatural, it matters little) as long as it is linked to the "toxic" and "devastating" daily life that surrounds us. So, the message I try to send is: you need an idea, a good and original idea, to make your monster truly scary.
Technique and Blood: Many indie directors are returning to practical special effects. What is your relationship with digital versus prosthetic makeup and "physical" on-set effects?
Absolutely true! For a few years now, there has been a return to the magical and economical choice of handcrafted effects. I shot my first gore short with "homemade" effects at 17. It was titled *Il Gusto del Sangue* (*The Taste of Blood*), filmed on an analog camera. Unfortunately, I lost the only existing VHS copy.
Anyway, I am obviously an advocate for practical prosthetic effects or simply makeup with splashes of blood and latex. In Indie horror, it’s fundamental for the project's economy. I love creating the gore effects in my films myself, after so much practice and experimentation. I’m basically like my daughter Erika when my wife Ivana and I take her to the playground: happy, wild, and unstoppable.
My relationship with digital is purely economic. Where the budget falls short, I compensate with AI to create something good, especially for short dream sequences. Take my Magnifica Creatura, where I chose to create very brief shots of an infernal dreamscape to convey that "demonic" atmosphere one feels when subjected to psychological and physical violence. Magnifica Creatura narrates the evolution of a grim and devastating femicide. Additionally, I find AI very effective for creating rapid sequences—with pure artistic instinct—for the opening and closing credits. This is only possible if you have a capable person by your side; I rely on my dear and indispensable collaborator, AI Creator Gianfranco Logiudice.
The Masters: Looking at the past and present, which are your favorite horror films—the ones that marked your training and that you consider essential points of reference?
Well! This is a question where I could cite hundreds of films and authors. I could give you an almost infinite list. My passion for cinema is 360-degree. Any genre, not necessarily horror, is on my personal list as long as it touched my sensibility. However, I’ll try to be brief, focusing only on the films and authors that shook me to the core, stimulating a 17-year-old kid to write and shoot his first amateur horror movies.
First and foremost, the entire filmography of David Cronenberg and David Lynch—they never missed a beat. Obviously, the Gothic, slasher, and dreamlike films of Mario Bava. Then there are the films of Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci, and Joe D’Amato. I’d add works by Lamberto Bava, Umberto Lenzi, Sergio Martino, Ruggero Deodato, and Ferdinando Di Leo.
I also gladly include the German ultra-gore of Andreas Schnaas with the "insane" Violent Shit tetralogy, and the necrophilia explored by Jörg Buttgereit in Nekromantik 1 & 2. I must mention Delicatessen by Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro. Then William Friedkin’s The Exorcist and the first two chapters of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre directed by Tobe Hooper. Wes Craven’s Freddy Krueger and the many cult movies of John Carpenter. Let’s see... I’ll also add Clive Barker and the early films of the "Godfather of Splatter," Herschell Gordon Lewis.
However, the films that most deeply and indelibly marked my formation are Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead saga (though the recent franchise entries aren't bad at all; they're actually quite good). And then, the politically incorrect, homemade indie masterpiece Bad Taste by my mentor Peter Jackson. To this day, I can't go a year without watching it two or three times, along with Meet the Feebles, Braindead, and Heavenly Creatures. The Lord of the Rings trilogy came later, when I already had a clear idea of the cinema I wanted to write and shoot.
Seeing Bad Taste at 17 overturned every perception and intuition I had about horror cinema. I literally wore out the VHS tape. I have no shame in declaring that of all the films I’ve watched, Bad Taste is the one that most pushed me to become a director.
The Next Nightmare: Your production is always in flux. What can you tell us about your upcoming projects? Is there a new character or a dark story we’ll see on screen soon?
Absolutely! My imagination is always brewing, ready to create strange and dark stories. I am currently writing two horror scripts. I’m also searching for actors and collaborators for behind the camera, and I’m scouting every corner of my city—Reggio Calabria—for the most atmospheric locations. The blue of the sea... the natural element of water... will definitely be present and will play a larger role than in my previous shorts.
Thanks to grueling but effective social media work publicizing Magnifica Creatura and VISCERAL—submitting them to the most suitable indie horror festivals—I’ve met young, promising directors, writers, and actors from across Italy to share ideas and projects.
I was born in Reggio Calabria and still live here after several years away looking for something "safer." I even lived in Paris for a few months. Now, with more experience and a few more biological years under my belt—alas!—I realize I’m actually very happy in my hometown. I can’t do without its climate, its sea, and the constant gamble against the "grim fate" of those born in a socio-economic reality like Reggio... though I think that applies to almost all Southern cities.
Like Peter Jackson—to quote my mentor again, who brought Hollywood to New Zealand—I am trying, in my own small way, to bring independent genre cinema to Reggio Calabria. I am creating a small Indie Film Collective to bring external collaborations with professionals and enthusiasts directly to the city, creating short films to circulate in the best national and international festivals.
Finally, a few words on the two shorts I’m writing. They are different in style: the first is intended as the third and final chapter following Magnifica Creatura and VISCERAL, which narrate the grim violence against women perpetrated by human madness—by weak, possessive men and their paraphilias—with a focus on the "dangerous" web, which has proven to be increasingly misogynistic. I will conclude my "Social Alienation Trilogy" by examining a very particular and dangerous male figure using meta-cinematic language.
The second is much lighter, but still with a clear idea of what it wants to be. Practical gore effects will be very present, along with moments of sarcasm. If I had to label it... I’d call it an "ecological body-horror"—particularly bizarre and ironic, just as good old Bad Taste taught me.













