At Giunti Odeon, the highly anticipated new film by Paolo Sorrentino, in competition at the last Cannes Film Festival. The life of Parthenope, who is named after her city but is neither a siren nor a myth. From 1950, when she was born, until today. Inside her, the whole long repertoire of existence: carefreeness and its fainting, classical beauty and its inexorable change, useless loves and impossible ones, stale flirtations and the vertigo of lightning strikes, kisses on Capri nights, flashes of happiness and persistent pain, real fathers and invented ones, the end of things, new beginnings. The others, lived, observed, loved, men and women, their melancholic drifts, their somewhat disheartened eyes, their impatience, the loss of hope of being able to laugh once again for a distinguished man who stumbles and falls in a downtown street. Always in the company of the passing of time, this faithful boyfriend. And of Naples, which bewitches, enchants, shouts, laughs and then knows how to hurt you.

For Halloween Night (11.45 pm), Giunti Odeon appeals to all horror lovers with a great cult film directed by Brian De Palma and based on a novel by Stephen King. Carrie, without warning and in the shower of a women's locker room, discovers her first menstruation. She is mocked by her classmates and immediately defended by Professor Collins, who punishes the girls with strenuous physical exercises. If Sue Snell repents by convincing her boyfriend to take Carrie to the prom, Chris Hargenson will organise a nasty prank on the girl, who, however, endowed with telekinetic powers, will take her revenge...

The colour red often invades the shots of Carrie, the cult film by Brian De Palma that consecrated the film fortune of Stephen King (who, often critical of the film versions of his books, has always loved this film). Adapting the first novel by the great master of North American horror fiction, the most ‘technical’, theoretical, citationist of the New Hollywood directors builds a perfect and baroque terror machine, in which blood becomes a means, a symbol and finally a consequence of an adolescent maturation that has never been so ruthless. The acting body of Sissy Spacek is fundamental, capable of expressing the most violent of frailties. Not to be outdone is the hallucinated mother played by Piper Laurie (both earned well-deserved Oscar nominations). Carrie is also a seminal work, paving the way for the teen slasher movies of the years to come: without this film, there would not have been the Halloween, Friday the 13th and Scream sagas (and maybe not even school comedies like Animal House). Of one thing you can be sure: you will scream with fear until the very last second.

One of Wim Wenders' greatest masterpieces returns to the big screen at Giunti Odeon, in a splendid new 4K restored version, on the occasion of the 40th anniversary of its theatrical release. The film, which won the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival in 1984, is the work that definitively established the German director among the great auteurs of world cinema. The last film of Wenders' American period, written by Sam Shepard, is a free, tender and desperate road movie, an homage to the places of the Western, a very human reinterpretation of Hollywood genres. An aging father under a baseball cap and a toddler son cross Texas in a pickup truck, looking for a wife and mother lost years earlier. They talk about big bang theory and why she left. The man, who had locked guilt and defeat in silence, rediscovers speech and the meaning of human relationships. He rediscovers them so well that when they finally find the woman, in a kind of sex club where girls talk to customers through a glass, without seeing them, Harry Dean Stanton can break them and break our hearts by telling a story, which of course is their story. She is the Nastassja Kinski of 1984, and that's all there is to it.