Meandre is a film with many forcings, with many shortcomings and many excesses, which however did not stop me from loving it at all. It constantly balances between philosophical reflection and the nonsense rhetoric typical of certain works that want to give themselves intellectual airs. In my opinion it fails to reach the first dimension, but it absolutely does not fall into the other. In short, a film susceptible to numerous - and certainly divergent - readings and interpretations.

I must say that from the moment I woke up, or perhaps from the moment she slipped into the first tunnel, I thought I was in front of a science fiction film. As the minutes passed I developed the idea that it was actually a sci-fi of an "existential" nature, with - more or less successful - metaphysical derivations. In my opinion, she is dead. Those meanders in which she finds herself crawling are, perhaps, those of her mind, rendered on the screen as an objective correlative of that state of suspension, waiting, torment and anguish typical of the passage from one state to another. Between life and death. Or rather: between death and non-life. That then to which we have all given, not so much a location, but a face: that of those we love. And for her that then (paradise? Afterlife? Another world?) has the face of her daughter. Which is no longer a body - like her now, after all: for this reason he cannot follow her into the tunnel - but is memory, memory, abstraction, idea, state of mind, or more simply soul.

A immersion (forced, inevitable) in the meanders of one's self, which has the eternal duration of a blink of an eye, a passage, a crazy and - apparently - senseless journey, as life itself is. To be able to be reborn, without a body, without life, without a future, but with the hand of the person you love holding yours.