original title:
L'ora di tutti
directed by:
cast:
Alice Pagani, Simone Coppo, Eleonora De Luca, Ignazio Oliva, Giulia Petrungaro, Alessio Boni, Dalila De Marco, Lorenzo Scalzo, Donato Demita, Antonio Monsellato, Vincenzo Palazzo, Elena Micchiché, Timofej Andrijashenko, Nicoletta Manni
screenplay:
Stefania Rocca, Federico Calamante, from the novel by Maria Corti with the same title
cinematography:
music:
producer:
production:
Ora One Production, Louis Nero Film, M74, Rai Cinema, supported by Ministero della Cultura
country:
Italy
year:
2026
format:
colour
status:
In post-production (31/10/2025)
“L’ora di tutti (everyone’s time) is the hour of truth, the moment in which each person is called upon to choose, and by choosing, defines themselves.”
Inspired by the book by Maria Corti, the film tells the story of the Sack of Otranto, the Turkish occupation of the city in 1480. Set in an undefined time, the story becomes the archetype of every war fought by ordinary people in defence of their homes, their values and, above all, their freedom.
The narrative moves between cinema and theatre, with the body at its centre. The film opens with the étoile of La Scala in Milan, Nicoletta Manni, dancing, exorcising the cannonball that will bring destruction and death to the city. The battles and invasions are choreographed and performed by dancers from La Scala’s Corps de Ballet.
Idrusa, the central figure in a choral film, is the symbol of the search for freedom, even when that freedom demands extreme choices. In certain parts of the story, she revives the Salento myth of the taranta: the bite of the spider said to drive women mad, but which, in truth, remains today an expression of liberation. The sighting of the enemy and the destruction of the Torre del Serpe, the symbol of Otranto, raise the first fundamental question: do we resist, or do we flee? We see the doubts of the characters who will become the story’s protagonists. From this moment, the narrative goes back in time to tell the story of Idrusa and, through her, that of a population of fishermen and craftsmen: everyday life, the market, the great fishing expedition, and Idrusa’s dissatisfaction with not feeling in control of her own choices. Married to Antonio, a fisherman, Idrusa meets a Spanish soldier and falls in love with him. She finally experiences her own body on the night when Antonio, away on the great fishing expedition, a symbolic moment for the community, chooses to return home and dies. Idrusa is left with an enormous emotional burden, but she finds the strength to reaffirm the value of her choices.
The invaders arrive. The Spanish garrison supporting the city flees, leaving behind the townspeople and the few Neapolitan soldiers commanded by Captain Zurlo. The waiting begins: on the walls, resisting, waiting for help to arrive. But help, as the young girl sent by Zurlo behind enemy lines will report, will never come. The women take refuge in the cathedral. Idrusa, despite being aware of the fate hanging over the city, goes out at night to bring food to her companions, comforting the other women and gaining a central role within the community, becoming its conscience, even when she is raped by her childhood friend, Colangelo. She is the first symbol of conscious choice, the kind of choice that so many women embody in moments when rebellion becomes necessary. And it is the women who close the film: Idrusa voluntarily chooses not to submit to the leader of the enemy soldiers and pierces him through her own body.
The film is dedicated to Idrusa and to those often-forgotten women who sacrificed their lives in defence of freedom.
DIRECTOR’S NOTES:
L’Ora di Tutti is the hour of truth: the moment in which each person is called upon to choose, and, through that choice, defines themselves.
Inspired by Maria Corti’s novel, the film recounts the Sack of Otranto, the Ottoman occupation of the city in 1480, while choosing to set the story in a suspended, undefined time. I am not interested solely in reconstructing a historical event, but in transforming it into an archetype: every war fought by a community to defend its home, its values, and its freedom.
The film is conceived as a metafilm, balance between cinema and theatre, where the body becomes the centre of the narrative. The body that resists, dances, loves, suffers violence, and chooses. For this reason, the story opens with Nicoletta Manni, étoile of Teatro alla Scala in Milan, performing a ritual dance around a cannonball: an act of exorcism against the object that will bring destruction and death to the city. The battles, invasions, fear, and resistance are not represented in a purely realistic way, but are filtered through choreography, movement, and the physical presence of actors and dancers. Idrusa, the protagonist of a choral film, is the symbol of the pursuit of freedom, even when that freedom entails extreme choices. Through her, the Salentine myth of the taranta is brought back to life: the bite of the spider, which, according to tradition, was said to make women lose their reason, can today also be read as a form of liberation, a rebellion of the body against everything that oppresses it. Through Idrusa, we tell the story of a community of fishermen, artisans, women and ordinary men swept up by History. The sighting of the enemy and the destruction of the Torre del Serpe, the symbol of Otranto, raise the question that runs through the entire film: should one resist or flee? From that moment on, each character is forced to confront their own fear, courage, and truth.
Idrusa is a married woman, restless and dissatisfied, who does not feel in control of her own choices. Her encounter with a Spanish soldier allows her, for the first time, to experience her body as a space of desire and freedom. But this freedom comes at an enormous emotional cost. Around her, the city prepares for the siege; the Spanish garrison flees; help will never come. What remains are the villagers, a few Neapolitan soldiers, and the women taking refuge in the cathedral.
In this time of waiting, Idrusa gradually becomes the conscience of the community. She brings food at night to the men on the walls, comforts the other women, and moves through fear without turning away from the destiny hanging over the city. Even when she suffers violence at the hands of Colangelo, her childhood friend, she is not reduced to a victim: she remains a figure of choice, resistance, and awareness. In the finale, Idrusa chooses not to submit. Her last gesture becomes the final affirmation of her freedom: the confirmation that freedom is, above all, the possibility of choosing, even when that choice demands the ultimate sacrifice. L’Ora di Tutti is therefore a film on the threshold: between History and myth, cinema and theatre, reality and ritual, body and memory. A film about what happens when a community can no longer postpone its choice. And about those women who, though erased from official narratives, continue to dance within History. L’Ora di Tutti is therefore a film on the threshold: between History and myth, cinema and theatre, reality and ritual, body and memory. A film about what happens when a community can no longer postpone its choice. And about those women who, though erased from official narratives, continue to dance within History.