The first time I had the chance to see the Italian film I Fantasmi by Federico Papagna, I encountered a story that felt like déjà vu from the news broadcasts in my own country — I saw characters of boys, hooded, in dark tracksuits, with an aggressive look in their eyes, the kind I’ve crossed paths with more than once on the streets. I’m writing about this film days after a 37-year-old man was brutally and violently killed by five teenagers in a city not far from mine. I Fantasmi is inspired by a real case describing an assault committed by minors.

Good cinema has the task of reflecting the spirit of the times, and in this respect The Ghosts reflects a ripened, current problem within youth communities in Europe and around the world — one often attributed to social media, subcultures, and similar excuses, but perhaps rooted somewhere in the political and cultural problems of our societies. The film tells its audience about the cruelty of a group of thugs who go to extremes to avenge an entirely mundane injustice. The criminal circle of friends around the adolescent Filippo draws him into a situation that turns him into a kind of Trojan horse against a victim targeted by the thugs. Viewers experience the story precisely through Filippo and his awakened conscience, which doesn’t let us fail to sense his guilt, his fear, and the tragedy that, under slightly different circumstances, could have been avoided. I’d strongly recommend seeing this film.

If I have to speak about the qualities of the work, first I’d praise the dramaturgy. What makes the narrative so striking is that the viewer experiences it through the eyes of the character most torn between two choices. We gather that Filippo was raised, on his family’s side, with a sense of order and justice, thanks to his father, who exercises these same qualities in his professional calling. Filippo’s circle of friends, however, is exactly the opposite, and as the viewer sinks into the course of the story, they step into the shoes of the boy torn between two extremes, beginning to reason from his position and finding, on their own, why he makes certain decisions. For me personally, though, it was hard at first glance to understand why Filippo submits to his group since he is so much different from them in his sense of right and wrong. I later realized this is nothing but fear, in many forms — whether the fear that he himself could become their next victim, or that if he sought help he would be branded as one of them, perhaps even fear of disappointing his father. In the young years when identity is being formed, it’s very hard for a person to seek help on matters of moral weight, because one’s own self-image, one’s sense of how others see them, and the fairness of judgment toward one’s mistakes, all become distorted. I imagine Filippo is exactly like that — afraid of being blamed or misunderstood. When I said that what happened could have been avoided, I meant that the fear — behind which lie primal apprehensions similar to those an animal in nature feels when facing a predator — wins out.

The characters in this story can be viewed not so much as individuals with their own unique traits, but more as embodiments of the characteristics tied to the position they occupy within the conflict. This is due to the fact that their background matches completely with their purpose in the story. This by no means suggests they don’t feel natural on screen — quite the opposite, they are so organic that they create the sense of being alive, and we, the viewers, watch with a slight discomfort at their experience. The story presupposes that we have no way of knowing more about their essence beyond the ripened circumstances, and their traits correspond precisely to the qualities a person with developed empathy would attribute to them. Luca, the victim of the group of thugs, is an orphan living in a children’s home — a trait that makes him even more poor and wronged even before the assault against him. Filippo is the son of a man whose professional calling is to uphold the law, the commonly accepted moral right. This approach isn’t inherently bad — on the contrary, it enriches their essence, gives the viewer a clear sense of the ordeals they go through, makes them more sympathetic, and prompts reflection on the unfolding of the conflict and their actions — but for me personally, it sometimes serves as a reminder that behind the story sits authorial fiction, and in this case, where the narrative is based on a real event, it pulls me out of its emotional weight.

I’ll be sparing when it comes to the technical execution — the direction, the cinematography, and the editing — because they are masterful, aesthetically accomplished, and carry an authorial signature that’s hard for me to put into words, but of course there’s no need to, since it ought to be seen and experienced. Especially striking is the sound design and the choice of a delicate, almost ambient musical backdrop, which I found very engaging. Federico Papagna, the film’s director, guided every department organically and convincingly, and as a result, we the viewers get to enjoy a coherent, engaging work that tells us, more than clearly, the face of fear and uncertainty in the minds of the young.

The Ghosts tells us how, in a century promised intellectual, technical, cultural, and ethical progress, the youngest members of society are hungry for violence, aggression, and bloodshed. Let me share one specific moment from the film that has stayed with me. Toward the end, one of the young men mentions that he can’t wash the blood off his fingers — and, it seemed to me, with such coldness, apathy, and pride. More frightening than the act itself is the absence of remorse. Federico Papagna’s short film isn’t here to present us with some mind-boggling event, but rather an excerpt of the lasting consequences of a mistake we’ve made as a community in recent years — one that deserves reflection. Somewhere along the path of general moral decay, there exist people like Filippo, who live in fear and doubt their own righteousness, because they don’t recognize themselves in those around them. People so disillusioned that they’re afraid to seek justice, no matter how close it may be to them.