Riccardo Maddalosso

Riccardo Maddalosso’s filmography honestly feels like a weird but kind of fascinating mixtape—one minute, you’re knee-deep in the gritty nostalgia of Armageddon Time, the next you’re floating somewhere surreal with The Planet, and then bam, Harqah hits you with something totally different. The guy doesn’t stick to one lane, that’s for sure. Armageddon Time? Oh man, it’s like a love letter to anyone who’s ever felt like an outsider. The story’s tangled up in family drama, friendship, and all that awkward, aching stuff that comes with growing up in a world that isn’t always so forgiving. There’s this raw, almost uncomfortable honesty running through it—like you’re eavesdropping on real arguments at the dinner table. Then you pivot to The Planet, and suddenly everything feels otherworldly. It’s got that indie film charm: a little rough around the edges, but it owns it. There’s a kind of dreamy melancholy, characters drifting through life trying to find some kind of meaning or at least a distraction from the daily grind. Maybe it’s not for everyone, but if you like films that don’t spoon-feed you answers, you’ll dig it. Harqah, though, pulls no punches. It tackles heavy themes—identity, struggle, maybe even redemption. It’s gritty, sort of poetic, and keeps you guessing the whole time. Maddalosso doesn’t sugarcoat anything, and that’s what makes his work stick with you.