Ottavio Mai's years of greatest commitment were from 1980 to his death in 1992, when the society of entertainment and communication finally took over.
Ottavio Mai understood above all that if homosexuality is not represented in the society of entertainment and media that is slowly establishing itself, that representation is now indispensable, it is the only sign, the only proof of existence.
And so here he is, filling that void.
First of all, with his films, which, though modest and not coincidentally linked to new electronic media, range from documentary to traditional fiction, from poetic shorts to experimental films, and which speak directly, without mediation, about gays, transvestites, couples, families, betrayals, cruising, and "homosexual normality," crossing all genres, as no one had ever dared before in Italy.
Aware and educated during the years of commitment ('60s, '70s), however, Ottavio understands how homosexual liberation comes through coming out, through the direct commitment of one's body, or rather of one's image given that one is in the world of entertainment: in his films, he and his partner, Giovanni Minerba, appear, and the couple also become protagonists of some – few – television programs of the time.
But the void is not only one of creativity, or of parties, it is also an entrepreneurial and distribution void: there are films with gay themes, even if produced abroad, but they are not shown in Italian cinemas, no one can see them, and so Ottavio Mai and Giovanni Minerba create, at a time when homosexuality is rarely talked about in the newspapers, and even popular films that address the subject are censored or cut, the first homosexual-themed festival in Italy.
The documentary highlights these aspects of Ottavio Mario Mai's life with a semantic analysis, by theme, of Ottavio's films, and through interviews with people such as Alberto Barbera, former director of the Venice Film Festival, Gianni Rondolino, president of the Turin Film Festival, Fabio Bo', film critic, Gianni Vattimo, philosopher and historical gay activist, Angelo Pezzana, creator of FUORI, the first Italian gay movement of which Ottavio and Giovanni were militants, Marziano Marzano, former councilor for culture of Turin who was the first to support the festival despite a thousand difficulties, and Marco Silombria who created its symbolic logo.
Even though we're talking about the recent past, the differences with the present are notable, and it's necessary to reconstruct it with video documents—few, because there were few public images of homosexuality before Ottavio and FUORI—and journalistic ones: a sensational Leo Gullotta reads and comments on the headlines of the major newspapers of the 1980s on the homosexual movement and the festival.
Ottavio Mario Mai's human experience, however, also passes through social emancipation, from a proletarian Roman family in which homosexuality, and perhaps even affection, are taboo, towards a much more contemporary family of friends, whose linchpin is the deep and stable bond with his companion Giovanni Minerba.
The relationship with the family – who did not want to contribute to the documentary – and with friends is entrusted, in addition to some interviews, to a fiction that is based on the video Message, already awarded upon its release, as Ida Di Benedetto reminds us in the documentary, in which the part of Ottavio Mai is played by Leonardo Treviglio.
As in Ottavio's life and in our zapping society, however, the narrative layers within the documentary—composed of interviews, performances by actors, short fiction, period footage, poetry, video clips, or simple cinematic glimpses—blend and blend to recreate not just a story but the emotions, the cultural imprints, the world of Ottavio, who, big in heart, soul, initiative, and ideas, seems, like perhaps every human being, unable to be forcefully inserted into a simple story.
