of Emanuele Trevi
The words of the writer in memory of the actor, who died at 44: “One year of his life was equivalent to ten of ours”
The death of Libero De Rienzo, our beloved Picchio, does not just leave a huge and irremediable void in Italian cinema. Certainly, she will be remembered as a first-rate talent, starring in many of the most memorable films of the last twenty years, but the practice of any art teaches us that the machine of illusions always goes on, and that for her we are all replaceable. . The fact is that Picchio was really a special person, capable of containing within itself oceans of sweetness and despair so vast that all of us who knew him well sooner or later realized that one year of his life was equivalent to ten of ours. This decidedly romantic aspect of his character at first fascinated, then also ended up worrying, and sometimes even arousing anger, because we always demand from people important to us doses of self-preservation capable of reassuring us.
The fact is that I do not know a person capable of more than him transform professional relationships into very deep human bonds, and lasting over time. His first hit came in 2001 with Santa Maradona by Marco Ponti, but I remember him from before, even from when he was still a high school student, beautiful and cheeky, endowed with a sense of humor capable of overthrowing all forms of inauthenticity and commonplace, even if he were virtuous. He had no need or desire to study, but he loved to read, and the discovery of Thomas Bernhard’s novels had literally struck him as a fundamental revelation and compass in his search for truth.
In those days, when everything was still taking shape in his life, he was obsessed with the concept of “anarchy”. Who was a true anarchist? How much social and cultural inheritance must be liquidated to conquer that effective freedom which is very different from the many apparent freedoms in which we play? When he then began to work seriously, with the results we all know, his skill and success did not surprise me at all, because I knew how much Picchio, although so young, was already went on to work on himself. Libero, that first name he used so little, besides being a name, was a true horoscope. Today we just have to grieve it bitterly, as befits a deadweight loss, a drastic impoverishment of our life. But the traces that this man unique in the world has left in others are deep and vital, e not even the most excruciating pain completely obscures the beauty of the memory.
July 16, 2021 (change July 16, 2021 | 11:45 pm)
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