A day lived in Milan during the Coronavirus pandemic lockdown, as told by a filmmaker who participates in the shooting, aiming the lens at herself.
A filmmaker crisscrosses Milan during the days of the lockdown in search of hard-to-find face masks, often waiting on queues at supermarkets. Her roaming through the deserted streets is accompanied by the clanking of invariably empty trams: this is the only sound guiding her as her camera frames details that she notices for the first time. The surreal dimension of the city mixed with what she's living through stuck at home, between her computer and video-calls with friends. But it's especially through her conversations with her mother that, while analyzing the handwriting of painters, musicians, writers - as well as of some of the people governing us - that unsuspected identities are revealed.
My journey through the Coronavirus lockdown in Milan began when, brandishing a video camera for the first time as operator, I decided to bear witness to what I was seeing and feeling inside and outside my house. And if, on the one hand I was surprised by an encounter with a homeless couple taking pains to bring food to starving pigeons, it was the relationship with my mother that gave rise to a wealth of discussions, some amusing and some more intimate, about the ultimate questions of life.