Il berretto sta alla pipa

Franco is sixty. He has spent most of his life in a house that once was his family's farm, in Cenate Sopra, a little village at the foot of Misma mountain. After his parents' death, Franco could have risked ending up in the dreariness of a hospice, but, luckily, he found out he was rich: he was the owner of a piece of land and an house waiting only to be renovated. At the end of the 90s', after having been hosted by several families, Franco could move back to his house. Right there, the social cooperative L'impronta had founded a housing project for disable people, Namasté, where he lives now. What emerges through the story is the unusual, fleeting truth of such a simple, yet unreachable man. No stories will be told by him, least of all no interviews. He is a man of action, his life is centered on an almost ritual daily routine and on an intense and physical relationship with nature, things and people. He tells about himself almost exclusevely with his presence, but, as a counterpoint, we have the words of the people that know him. The narration tries to keep as a center this extraordinary, transparent and mysterious character during his childhood and adult life.