A.I. FILMMAKER
High-end audiovisual storytelling driven by Artificial Intelligence
Symptom
This video doesn't justify violence. It tries to understand it. It speaks of skinhead culture not as a stereotype, but as a symptom of identity, of belonging, of pent-up rage. Of young people searching for a place in the world when they feel they don't have one. Violence doesn't appear out of nowhere. It's often the last resort when all others fail. It's not about pointing fingers at individuals, but about looking at the context: family, the streets, frustration, social silence. Averting blame isn't whitewashing. It's about assuming collective responsibility and daring to ask why. Because only by understanding the origin can we break the cycle. This video opens an uncomfortable, but necessary, conversation.
Roadhouse Bar 2026
This is the future: chaotic, intense, impossible to observe from afar. In 2026, there will be no perfect choreography.
There will be clashes.
Decisions hanging in the balance.
Moments when all that matters is staying on your feet.
It's not a fight against others. It's against what's coming.
And no one emerges unscathed.
The Art of the Chase
A story is not found.
It is chased.
Sometimes it runs.
Takes shortcuts.
Hides in narrative backstreets,
accelerates just when you think you’ve got it.
You follow it with instinct, rhythm, and vision.
Never losing it.
Never forcing it.
Until, at last,
you catch up.
Because a great story
is never captured by chance:
it’s pursued with obsession
and detained with precision.
Next Stop
They arrive before you.
They speak when you're silent.
They offer opinions when you hesitate.
They decide when you stop.
I don't need permission.
They live there.
They repeat themselves.
They contradict themselves.
They insist. I know you better than anyone and they use that against you. Sometimes they seem like your own.
Sometimes they sound like truth.
But listen carefully: Not everything you hear inside you belongs to you.
The Journey
Falling is not the end.
It's the space between two decisions.
A visual poem about people falling without falling.
About the moment when certainties dissolve and transformation begins. Falling is not failure.
Falling is the path.
How are you are?
Sometimes a smile is just a learned gesture. A suit we put on every morning so no one notices the weight. We dance, we fulfill our obligations, we make others laugh. While inside the noise never stops and exhaustion disguises itself as normality. This video doesn't have a happy ending. It's just a reminder. That faking happiness is also tiring. That no one should bear it alone. That asking for help doesn't break the act: it makes it human. Speaking is an act of courage. So is stopping. Continuing, but with company, is even more so. There's always someone on the other side. And there's always another scene possible.
Alone at home
Because when you’re alone,
the rules loosen,
objects start to improvise,
and time spins in circles.
Sometimes nothing happens.
And yet, everything does.
A Monday comes to see me
We continue with this friendship with the AI and, honestly, I think I’m already walking down the hallway where the lights flicker.
The AI replies with an unsettling calm, as if it knew that, sooner or later, we’d all end up confiding our dilemmas to it… because at least it doesn’t pretend to be surprised when we say we’re tired of the world.
So here I am: talking to an algorithm that doesn’t sleep and discovering that my most reliable ally is something that doesn’t even have a shadow.
“I guess that’s how great friendships work: some hold your hand… and others just update your version.”
Fighting against the shadow
And meanwhile, the lights go out one by one, the echo of what we've lived through dissolves into thin air, and no one remembers who gave the first order. And meanwhile, the art slowly rots on the walls, the applause turns to dust, and the names fade from the poster. And meanwhile, we keep creating out of sheer habit, or out of fear of the silence.
Memento Mori
I’ve created a narrative piece that invites us to remember that being finite is not a threat; it’s a form of liberation.
Memento Mori reminds us that time is limited… and that’s exactly what gives us the courage to choose.When we accept our fragility, we stop living on autopilot.
We gain the freedom to decide what deserves our energy,
what we must release,and what is worth creating before time moves on.
The awareness of our limits doesn’t confine us: it awakens us.
