Bandiera and Rabbino, two young bumpkins, find that Rosina, their beloved ewe, has been butchered by their father. Years later, the two share their lives with a beautiful blonde who they found believing to be dead.

One day, in a quiet village, a traveling movie theatre appears. The proprietor has no words for the miracle he brings in on the reels. When it's finally time, and the whole town is crammed into the crumbling impromptu playhouse, and the lights are dimmed, a word of warning. This is the story of Dr. #Frankenstein, it starts.

“Just close your eyes and call him… It's me, Ana… It's me Ana…”

– Teresa

The old folk in the audience remember their first brush with cinema, and life, and death. For sisters Ana (Ana Torrent) and Isabel (Isabel Tellería) it may be their first, and it may as well be real. The creature, Isabel assures her younger sister, is not dead. He's a spirit and you can call for him.

 

When you're little, everything is a miracle. Milagros is the name the maid answers too. And so does the landscape, the mushrooms, the heart, and the magic of cinema.

It's August 30, #Frankenstein​day.

“If you're not sure a mushroom's good, don't pick it. Because if it's bad, and you eat it, it's your last mushroom and your last everything too.”

Where the Boys Are is chock-full of characters whose names appear to be straight space-travel-lifted from various #JohnWaters' movies: Tuggle Carpenter! TV Thompson! Lola Fandango! Dr. Raunch for Chrissakes!

“The boys come to soak up the sun, and a few carloads of beer. The girls come, very simply, because this is where the boys are.”

– narrator

We follow four female midwestern college students on #SpringBreak in Fort Lauderdale. Their objective is boys boys boys (and an even tan) and nothing, including being too young to drink, can stop them. This was one of the first post-Hayes Hollywood movies to address teenage sex yet despite all the innuendo (“What's your shoe size?” “13.” “Get in the car!”), it's all pretty clean. But without these girls, there wouldn't be any Dawn Davenport. And that would've ruined everybody's Christmas.

“It isn't Jesus. It's just a fella.”

– Charlie Bostock

In the barn of a remote Lancashire farmhouse, three children stumble upon a stranger. Confused, they conclude that the fellow must be the Second Coming of Christ. In the world of the adults, a man is wanted by the police.

“Good night, Gentle Jesus. Sleep well.”

– Charlie Bostock

Not a film you can be prepared for, Padre padrone. The author, Gavino Ledda, hands a stick – that stick – to the actor who plays his part. There we are, in Sardinia, beautiful Sardinia. A boy in class, learning. His father barges in: the boy must attend the sheep, or else. From that moment on we become that boy Gavino. Life's cruel on the island, but his father, his master, is worse. But that's how it is, there's sheep to herd. When Gavino enlist in the army, he encounters a new world. The precise world of electronics, other people, other sounds, the Italian #language. When he returns home, he finds his father a small man.

“Don't laugh at Gavino. Hands on your desks! Today is Gavino's turn. Tomorrow will be yours.”

– father

In a 1977 New York Times article the Taviani's are cited as seeing Gavino in the same light as #Truffaut's L'Enfant sauvage (1970) and #Herzog's Kaspar Hauser (Jeder für sich und Gott gegen alle) (1974). However, the Sardinian boy's outsiderness is not caused by estrangement, but an immense loneliness that cannot be put into words. This is why Ledda's newfound language is such an important tool. It's not a stick, or a fist, or a dead snake. It's the foundation of his Home.

It's another school day in rural America when the #NuclearAttack alarm starts ringing. A teacher, instructed to calmly walk the kids home, tries to keep the youngest ones oblivious of the impending doom.

“Ladybug, ladybug, Fly away home”

children's song

While the children walk, talk and sing, this thing up there, in the sky and in the mind, grows bigger.