A round of applause for Valeria Marini and her project “La trappola di Venere”.

The Venice Film Festival is so many things all at once: there are the films, of course, ranging from Iranian to American, featuring Korean directors and Hollywood stars; but then there are also the journalists and influencers, the big fish and the tiny ones, the enthusiasts and the mythomaniacs, the people who work there – and even I am here. One might call it a microcosm, yet the only thing ‘micro’ here is the space on the Lido di Venezia; the world, on the other hand, is vast – we’re all here in full force, and all at the same time. So it can happen, as it did the other day, that whilst Werner Herzog (a grand old man of arthouse cinema, one of the few who is called ‘Maestro’ without irony or rhetorical flattery) is holding a press conference in the press room on his latest film "Bucking Fastard" with the Bloom sisters, Mara and Orlando – a title among the most eagerly awaited by film buffs worldwide – at the very same moment and just a few metres away, across the road, at the Hotel Excelsior, Valeria Marini is presenting the project “La trappola di Venere”, of which she is the patron and supporter, as well as the actress playing the role of Venus Urania, a symbolic character set in contrast to Venus Pandemia (I’m not making this up, I swear; I’m just transcribing it), played by Elisa D’Ospina. Stellar kisses to Maestro Herzog: I’m leaving his press conference to head to ‘Valeriona’s’. As well as the two leading ladies (Marini in the centre, D’Ospina also acting as moderator), the presentation of this ‘documentary’ on gender-based violence (sic) – which has already been a short film and a music video (…) – is also attended by its creator and star, Gianluca Mech: holder of three patents for dietary supplements as well as a weight-loss system “geared towards weight loss and post-diet maintenance based on the principle of phytochetosis” (source: Wikipedia), an entrepreneur and online seller of herbal teas, infusions and decoctions, here at the Festival he is appearing in the role of “also a poet” (quote: Miss Silvani), and on the subject of femicide, no less.

A preview of the first images from this documentary is shown; it is said that it will be broadcast as an advert in schools (but in what sense? I haven’t been to school for twenty-three years, but are there now adverts between lessons?); however, Marini does not appear in any of these scenes because ‘Valeria has yet to finish filming’. The screening is held at the Veneto Film Commission’s venue, which has large windows overlooking the Excelsior’s swimming pool; the room is not dark, so the images flashing across the screen (which, incidentally, is small – just a television) are entirely obscured by the light reflecting in from the windows – so much for Nolan and his 70 mm IMAX screenings. The project’s thesis – “in which I strongly believe” (Marini) – is that when a man kills a woman, the blame lies with Venus (Pandemia), whereas he should be heeding Venus Urania: one embodies jealous, possessive love; the other, pure and liberating love; forget about Saturn’s opposition. Valeria then takes the floor, and she’s got something to say to everyone, starting with the world (“there’s too much violence”); then she attacks the TV (“it should inform, not entertain with news stories”), social media (“it incites young people to seek attention; a law should be passed”), bureaucracy (“the stalking law is too slow”), and electronic tagging (“it’s a joke”): her remarks suggest that she communicates with Spanish Prime Minister Sánchez on Instagram about geopolitical issues. Each statement is greeted with cries of “Well done, Valeria!” from the audience, followed by applause. It remains unclear whether Herzog, whose event was taking place on the other side of the street, received a comparable welcome.