Director Paolo Sodi on Documentary Filmmaking, Cinematography and Telling Human Stories

Paolo Sodi is an Italian film director who believes that the world still holds countless stories worth telling.

Known for his poetic and respectful approach, he creates films that explore the connection between people, culture, and nature, always seeking authenticity and emotional depth. His work has taken him from remote communities in Papua New Guinea and Africa to productions across Europe and beyond.

His documentaries have aired on RAI, Sky, CNN, Al Jazeera, Paramount+, Amazon Prime Video, and WaterBear. In 2023, he directed a film with Andrea Bocelli released in cinemas throughout the United States, and today he represents Sony Europe for cinematography technologies.

His guiding principle is simple: to move audiences by bringing positivity, because the world has so much beauty to tell.

Our relationship with Paolo goes back a long way, long before there was ever a project for us to work on together. Last year, we featured Sereva, A Papuan Tale. This time, we’re talking about him.

Paolo, where does this passion come from? Not the career, the passion. How did it begin?

I think the most beautiful thing, and the greatest stroke of luck I had when I was still a kid, was understanding what I wanted to do with my life. Already at fourteen, while everyone my age was thinking about other things, about scooters, I was dreaming of a video camera I could use to film, simply to tell stories.

I remember very clearly how it began. I was in Sardinia during the summer, in the garden of a house we had rented for the holidays. It was surrounded by tall green hedges and, in the middle, there was an outdoor shower, also enclosed on three sides by hedges. After a very strong but brief storm, I remember the colours being incredibly vivid: the grass, the hedges, everything.

When I walked towards the shower, a kind of little world had formed inside it, almost like a jungle, with drops still falling from above and all that shiny green. That’s where I remember feeling this great need to start filming.

You are both a director and a cinematographer. If you had to choose only one to describe yourself today, which would it be, and why?

I would choose director because more and more I feel the desire to share stories that bring positivity, reflection, and values. Stories people can recognise themselves in, and that make us think about a time that is slowly disappearing.

Your work begins long before the camera. What really happens during those months of writing and research?

The work begins long before the camera, and I have learned that over these twenty years. I learned it on my own, but I think I learned it well. In fact, today preproduction is one of the phases I enjoy the most. It’s the moment when all the curiosity, the desire to explore and to learn more, even about very simple stories, takes over. It mainly means talking, asking lots of questions, and listening.

During pre-production, I spend a lot of time listening. Only afterwards do I reflect and try to understand how all that information can become a story.

You usually work with very small crews. What are the biggest challenges this creates on your projects?

Yes, I almost always work with very small crews. The biggest challenge is understanding which of those few people who will become part of the team are the right ones. It may sound obvious, but sharing eight working hours with someone is one thing. Spending entire weeks together, day and night, is another.

Sleeping together because you may be in a remote place or in tents, eating together, sharing the stress and also the failures, because documentary filmmakers experience those too. But when you find the right people, it is magic.

How do you build a relationship with non-professional subjects and, in the case of Sereva, with a ten-year-old child?

With people who are not actors, like Sereva, I build the relationship through curiosity and respect. I listen to them, give them their time, try not to force anything, and, above all, look for a natural kind of dialogue that is less connected to the project. I genuinely want to know that person and learn more about them beyond the audiovisual story.

I have learned that you find yourself in front of people who may never have imagined, in their entire lives, being in front of a camera, telling their story or expressing emotions. All of this requires respect and time. I would rather spend an entire shooting day observing and talking than filming.

Filming comes last. I prefer to film less, but to do it well, and I need to know what I’m filming.

Tell us about something funny that happened on one of these sets, in one of those impossible locations.

During our breaks with Sereva, he spent practically all of his time with us. If we filmed for six or seven hours during the day, he would spend the rest of the time having fun with us.

He would look through our things, put gel in our hair and play hairdresser, or help us clean the equipment. Sometimes he would ask us, and I remember this very clearly because he must have done it so many times, to show him cartoons. The funny thing was that he seemed the same age as us. He was completely at ease, and he had this beautiful, positive energy that was good for both me and Carlo Stagno D’Alcontres, my assistant on that shoot.

The connection between people and nature runs through almost everything you do. Is it a theme you choose, or does it keep choosing you?

It is a theme I choose, but at the same time it keeps coming back to me. In every project, every job, and every story, I try to leave at least a small thread that leads back to the environment.

It may be just a plant or a landscape, as long as it is not shown simply to establish the scene. It needs to have its own strength, its own life, and its own value within the story. By now, this connection has become part of every production. I always think about people together with nature.

In 2023, you directed The Journey, a film with Andrea Bocelli released in cinemas across the United States. What changes for a director who is used to a few people and a backpack when the whole machine becomes so large?

A lot changes. First of all, the kind of team changes, because I normally work with four, five, or perhaps eight people. On that film, there were more than one hundred of us. The whole machine becomes much slower and more demanding, and, on a documentary project, that is always very delicate.

In the end, the people you are telling the story about are still few, but they can feel that there is a whole world around them, almost a travelling circus, with technical vehicles, people and equipment moving constantly. Every day you start again from the beginning, and it is not easy. It was a wonderful experience that taught me so much.

It also made me understand even more clearly that I prefer telling stories with a small number of trusted people, where everyone can take on more than one role. It is much more tiring, because three or four people are doing the work of a ten-person crew. And when you work in particular environments, you move according to the rhythms of nature and light. It is not just an eight-hour working day. It is much more.

Very often, in those places, the work does not begin when you pick up the camera or stand in front of the people you are filming. It begins when you wake up and have to prepare breakfast in a difficult situation; when one bathroom is shared by many people; when you sleep in a tent and, before setting up the camera or speaking to the crew, you first have to take care of the tent itself; when perhaps you do not have a shower. And I could go on for a long time.

You represent Sony Europe for cinematography technologies. Beyond the equipment itself, how much does the technology available to you change the kind of story you are able to tell?

I have represented Sony Europe since 2018, and it is one of the most beautiful and long-lasting collaborations I have had. I really believe in this partnership. I have received a lot from it, and I believe I give just as much in return. Technology can make your work much simpler.

Having cinema cameras that, despite being complex pieces of equipment, give you fewer things to worry about is essential. When you are perhaps the only camera operator, there are so many factors to manage: sound, performances, camera movements, stabilization, zoom, focus and exposure.

When a camera helps you with internal stabilization or an autofocus system that allows you to work with a smaller crew in difficult situations, it also makes the people you are filming feel less uncomfortable, especially when they are not actors. When the equipment leaves your mind free to think about what really matters, then yes, it changes the way you tell a story. Because it makes it so much simpler.

You teach through workshops in the forests, masterclasses and university lectures. What do you enjoy passing on through these experiences?

For several years now, every two or three months, I have dedicated two days to workshops in the forests. I also give masterclasses and teach at universities. Do you know why I do it? Because I love sharing. I love sharing my experiences with other people who have the same passion. Sharing is incredibly important.

Then everyone can choose what to listen to, what to make their own, and what to leave behind. But being able to share what I have learned while doing a job that makes me proud, and perhaps helping other people learn more quickly some of the things it took me years to learn, is something I really enjoy. And why not? It also means meeting new people.

Teaching and sharing can create opportunities for new collaborations. That matters, because relationships are fundamental.

What advice would you give to someone who wants to start making documentaries today?

Definitely, experiment. It doesn’t matter whether you do it alone or with other people, but experiment. Build projects, be curious and look for stories. And they do not necessarily have to be distant stories. Look for stories that are close to you, that you know, that you feel you can genuinely tell and make your own.

The most beautiful stories are not necessarily on the other side of the world. They are the ones you feel, the ones you know, and the ones you make your own. But if you do not experiment and always wait for the perfect opportunity, it will be much harder to grow. And that growth has to begin with you.

Your guiding principle is to create emotion while bringing positivity. In a market that rewards conflict and urgency, is that a more difficult kind of film to sell?

Yes, it probably is more difficult. The market tends to reward extreme, fast-moving situations that create conflict. But I believe people genuinely need positivity, beautiful stories, and good values. Not lessons, but situations they can reflect on.

There are many things we do not know. Or rather, we always know the worst, because the worst is what we are shown so often. So I try to tell the best as well, in a slightly more poetic and cinematic way.

What is the story you have not told yet?

It is a story I have had in my mind for several years, at least eight, I think. This year, I will probably be able to start doing some pre-production work on it. I have tried to approach it in previous years, but always slowly and with some fear, because it is a story I believe in deeply. It’s a wonderful story, but I can’t tell you about it yet. I care about it too much.

The last question is the one Paolo would not answer. For a director who has spent twenty years learning to wait before he films, that seems about right. Until that story arrives, the closest thing to it is the one he told in Milne Bay: a boy, a canoe, and a tradition being passed down exactly as it starts to disappear.

For those who know Paolo, there is something that goes beyond the films, the credits and the places he has travelled to. He is a remarkably skilled filmmaker, but also someone with a rare sensitivity and genuine curiosity towards the people he meets. Perhaps that is what makes his work feel so human: before picking up a camera, he takes the time to listen, understand and build a relationship.

We saw this especially clearly in Sereva, A Papuan Tale, the documentary we previously explored on FilmmakersWorld. If you haven’t read that piece yet, we invite you to read the story behind Sereva, A Papuan Tale. It is another way into Paolo’s world, and into the kind of filmmaker and person he is.

Discover more about Paolo Sodi:
Website | IMDb