During the mid-1600s, there is a man who talks of God in a way that no one has ever done before: Frate Leopoldo da Casamacchia. While the Church preaches in Latin, Fra Leopoldo recounts the Gospel with contagious joy, bringing comfort and hope to those who listen to him. He speaks of a God who is close to the people and is even able to laugh with them. His message spreads from village to village, winning the hearts of thousands of people who begin to follow him everywhere, as the churches empty out. The clamor reaches Rome and the echo of that voice sounds dangerous to those who, by then, govern through fear. The Pope decides to entrust the case to Cardinal Maculani, the most authoritative inquisitor of his era. What begins as a trial, turns into an unexpected confrontation that is destined to challenge seemingly unshakable convictions. While Leopoldo’s destiny seems foreordained, the destinies of Maculani and those who, like him, are overcome by doubt take unexpected directions. Because you can silence a voice but not what that voice has left in others.

DIRECTOR'S NOTES:
Dio ride marks a boundary I had never crossed before. If, in my previous films, directing was often shaped around the actors and the delicate timing required by comedy, here I waited for the right light, shot at real dawns, and placed the gaze at the centre of the film, filming whatever moved me. Thanks to the dedication and generosity of the entire cast and crew, and with the support of Pierfrancesco Favino, who requires very little direction, I was able to explore a freer and more personal cinematic language.
It was like writing a story, using a vocabulary made of images rather than words, to explore how satire and comedy have always had the power to make those in power tremble. Directing this film taught me many things, but the most important was learning to treat the camera as a typewriter.