Stefano Knuchel is set to unveil the culmination of his cinematic exploration of the renowned Italian cartoonist Hugo Pratt with the premiere of “Il desiderio di essere inutile – Hugo a Venezia” (“A Longing to Be of No Use – Hugo in Venice”). This special screening will take place out of competition at the Venice Film Festival on September 12, as part of a collaborative presentation involving La Biennale di Venezia, the International Critics’ Week, and the Giornate degli Autori.
A Rich Legacy Concluded
This film marks the third and final chapter in Knuchel’s documentary trilogy dedicated to Hugo Pratt, following the releases of “Hugo in Africa” (2009) and “Hugo in Argentina” (2021). The timing of the premiere is particularly poignant, as it leads up to the centennial celebration of Pratt’s birth in 2027.
Knuchel’s previous works have already garnered recognition on Venice’s iconic Lido, with “Hugo in Africa” winning the Bisato d’Oro for Best Director in 2009 and “Hugo in Argentina” screening in Venice Days in 2021. “Hugo in Venice” is produced by Fiumi Film in co-production with the Swiss public broadcaster RSI.
Unveiling the Artist’s Voice
The film uniquely draws on recorded conversations between Pratt and his biographer, Dominique Petitfaux, whose interview book notably inspires the film’s title. Notable figures from Pratt’s legacy feature throughout, including Patrizia Zanotti, managing director of Cong SA, the company managing Pratt’s rights since 1995, and writer Marco Steiner, who collaborated with Pratt during his later years and has authored several continuations of the Corto Maltese saga.
A Philosophical Title
Variety engaged Knuchel ahead of the film’s festival debut to delve deeper into the nuances of the project.
The title comes from Petitfaux’s recorded conversations with Pratt. What meaning is born from the translation, “a longing to be of no use”?
Stefano Knuchel: “It was a tricky one. The title is beautiful in Italian and French, but ‘useless’ sounds rude in English. It’s really a philosophical provocation. In today’s world, people often try to assert their usefulness, and this title does the opposite. Like a tarot card, it reads in two ways. One perspective is about transmission—how you inherit culture and pass it on. Creating a 20-year trilogy about transmission is almost punk, working with a rhythm distinctly different from mainstream narratives. The second perspective comes directly from Pratt. When Petitfaux asked him about those who dismiss comics as a worthless art form, Pratt expressed pride in being deemed ‘useless’ by such critics. For the English title, we opted for a Yeats-like translation, reflecting Pratt’s affection for English culture and imbuing it with a poetic essence.”
Evolution Through Time
With this film, your 20-year trilogy on Pratt comes to a close. How did this trilogy evolve, and how did it change you along the way?
Knuchel: “Each film has focused on overcoming a challenge. The first explored Pratt’s childhood in Ethiopia, contending with a fascist father while forging his own ethical stance. The second centered on his transformation into an artist, embracing both the opportunities and burdens that come with that identity. The third film delves into confronting mortality and recognizing that our legacies precede us through what we inherit. Personally, I found this last installment daunting. As I encountered the realities of loss within my own family during production, I discovered parallels between my experiences and the questions Pratt faced near the end of his life. The experience of working with Pratt for two decades profoundly altered my perspective on the world. I used to be someone who could happily spend six months on the couch reading, yet I found myself in conflict zones like Djibouti—in the president’s helicopter. That’s the impact a great artist can have: they provide a fresh lens through which to view the world.”
Redefining Comics
How did you reframe Pratt as a literary figure rather than “just” a cartoonist?
Knuchel: “Pratt essentially invented the graphic novel. His first lengthy work, ‘Una Ballata del Mare Salato,’ initially struggled in the market because comics were not expected to have such depth. A young editor’s visit to shops revealed it shelved beside standard comics, prompting a realization that it required an entirely different presentation. It was then published in black and white and large format, thus coining the term ‘graphic novel’ to place it under ‘novels,’ not comics. This shifted the perception of the medium. As a child, three creative minds influenced me: Fellini, Buñuel, and Pratt. Notably, he was the only one not involved in cinema yet infused comic storytelling with cinematic timing. He demonstrated, for instance, the technique of leaving a character out of frame, allowing the camera to linger on the empty space—an innovation in comics. For the film, I enlarged one of his illustrations dramatically and executed a slow pan across it, yielding stunning results. This doesn’t work the same for many pieces of artwork, often leading to pop art; but with Pratt, there’s a harmony between his technique and spirit.”
Venice as Visual Narrator
Can you discuss how Venice itself contributes to the film’s visual storytelling? Did you opt for a biographical approach or lean into the city’s mythos?
Knuchel: “Although Pratt wasn’t born in Venice nor did he die there, the city profoundly influenced his psyche. I open the film with his own words: ‘I’m Venetian, so I trust the water.’ Here, the water symbolizes the subconscious, representing the uncontrollable aspects of life. I aimed to portray Venice as a mirage, emerging momentarily from the lagoon’s mud before sinking back—a metaphor for existence itself: moments of emergence followed by inevitable retreat. Instead of working with a film crew, I partnered with anthropologists over two years to find the appropriate locations that evoke this essence. Every element depicted in the documentary is authentic. From ’30s archival footage, which was restored, to the actual lodge Pratt joined in ‘74 and the genuine Nazi bunkers hidden within the lagoon—which are rarely seen today. Initially, I considered shooting in the Pacific; however, realizing that Pratt dreamt of it long before visiting, I creatively linked archival footage of him with new footage of Patrizia navigating lagoon settings that recall the Pacific. This constraint ultimately led to a more satisfying artistic outcome. Financial limitations often inspire more thoughtful filmmaking.”
A Lasting Reflection
What reflections do you carry after undertaking such an extensive project, and what sentiments do you hope to evoke in viewers?
Knuchel: “Something truly simple: the world is an extraordinary place, and the essence lies in how we perceive it. My work with Pratt across two decades took me to Djibouti, Ethiopia, Kuwait, and introduced me to numerous individuals worldwide who cherished him for various reasons. Towards the film’s conclusion, he reflects that understanding the intricacies of something as small as an eggshell can inspire an entire narrative. He often quoted a Persian poet who remarked that ‘great poets come to the world, say one thing, and leave.’ I believe this resonates with Pratt’s message too: beauty lies in what surrounds us, if only we choose to see it. That’s the lesson I consistently garner from his work, and I hope the film leaves viewers feeling uplifted; my ultimate desire is for people to feel better.”
