Matteo Franceschini

Matteo Franceschini, honestly, this guy’s not just a name on a credits roll. If you’ve checked out Vermiglio (2024), you’d know the vibe is anything but bland—there’s this undercurrent of tension that never really lets up. Franceschini’s work in that film? It’s got this raw, almost gritty edge. You don’t get the usual gloss you find in a lot of modern cinema. Instead, you’re hit with moments that feel way too real, like you’re eavesdropping on people’s worst days. There’s a sense of unease, lingering in every frame. The guy just knows how to crank up the emotional pressure without ever going full melodrama. Now, Gli indifferenti (2020) is a whole different beast. The way Franceschini handles the story—it’s like he’s peeling back layers, one by one, showing you all the stuff people try to hide. The characters? Not exactly likeable, but that’s kind of the point. They’re flawed, messy, wildly human. The movie’s soaked in this quiet desperation, and Franceschini’s approach doesn’t shy away from the uglier bits. He’s not interested in making anybody look good—he wants you to squirm a little, maybe even see a bit of yourself in those awkward silences. Between these two films, Franceschini’s style is clear: he’s after authenticity. No sugarcoating, no easy answers. You get the sense he’s got a bone to pick with pretense, and he’s not afraid to show life’s rougher edges. The dude’s not just making movies—he’s saying something. And honestly? It sticks with you.