09/09/2023 - VENICE 2023: The Italian director shares some thoughts and knowledge on the subject of the Yenish minority in Switzerland, which his film revolves around

Entered in competition at the 80th Venice International Film Festival, Lubo [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Giorgio Diritti
interview: Giorgio Diritti
interview: Valentina Bellè
film profile], directed by Italy’s Giorgio Diritti and starring Germany’s Franz Rogowski, takes us to Switzerland around the middle of the last century, covering World War II and the post-war years up until the late 1950s. During this time (actually until 1972), the Swiss state enacted a policy known as the Kinder der Landstrasse (“Children of the Road”) programme, where children of Roma, Sinti and other “itinerant” ethnic groups were separated from their families in order to protect them from the vagrant lifestyles of their roots. The namesake of Diritti’s tale, a travelling performer from the Yenish minority, is the father of three such children. The director shared some thoughts and knowledge on the subject as well as the epic work that came out of it.

Cineuropa: Can you talk a little about the Yenish minority that Lubo belongs to and how you found out about this story?
Giorgio Diritti: I found out about the Yenish through a book by Italian writer Mario Cavatore, Il seminatore. I knew nothing about them before this. They travelled around Central Europe, and those who moved into Germany and Switzerland during World War II were all but killed off, while in France they were accepted. They had a strong musical identity and are considered to be an inspiration for the waltz music from the Austrian composers.

What did you learn about this “Children of the Road” programme?
It was a state organisation that most Swiss people didn’t know anything about, a federal office with a person in charge whose name was Alfred Siegfried, who was initially given 300 children under his care, and he would then place them elsewhere. He would either put them in boarding institutions or place them with families, usually farmers, or in psychiatric asylums. I’ve seen some testimonies from those who came to farms, where they would live with the animals in the stables and even be chained up, just like the animals, so that they couldn’t run away. Many tried to escape, and some in the institutions even jumped out of windows and died. These were, as they would be for anyone, unbearable conditions, and of course, for someone used to the uninhibited lifestyle of travelling on the roads, it was even more unbearable. I don’t tell this side of the story in the film, but this is what Lubo’s children could face when they are taken away from him.

Is the story of Lubo based on an actual person?
The general inspiration comes from Cavatore’s book, while the rest, including Lubo himself, is sheer creativity. In my research, I also talked at length with people like Uschi Waser, an activist for the Yenish and someone with personal experience of these years, during her childhood.

How did you come to cast Franz Rogowski for the main role? Was the part written with him in mind?
The part was already written, but then I saw Franz in some of the films by Christan Petzold, like Transit [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Christian Petzold
interview: Franz Rogowski
film profile] and Undine [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Christian Petzold
film profile], and also in a small part in Terrence Malick’s A Hidden Life [+see also:
film review
trailer
film profile]. He seemed interesting and felt increasingly like a good Lubo. When I saw him doing a breakdance on YouTube, I knew I had my Lubo. He also speaks Italian, which made it possible for us to converse early on, as I don’t speak German. He has lived in Lugano in Switzerland, and best of all, he has a look that, in one second, can switch from a very lovely person to someone who’s about to cut your throat. Very useful.

The dialogue is in German – Swiss German at that – as well as Italian and Yenish. How does it feel to direct in a language you don’t speak yourself?
It usually works out. I listen to the song, the melody, and can feel when we get things right. I look at the expression in the eyes, where the emotional flow can be very apparent. We also had three dialogue coaches with us.

How early on were you aware that the film needed to be three hours and one minute long?
It didn’t need to be. I was aiming for two hours and 45 minutes, but then in the editing, I realised it would need those extra few minutes. I don’t feel it’s boring. Instead of making us feel tired, I believe those moments give us an extra strong emotional boost.