Cut From the Same Cow follows Sergio, who works for his father in their family butcher’s shop in a small Italian village. When his brother Flavio returns home – after previously having fallen out with their dad – Sergio hopes that the family will come back together. But can a free spirit like Flavio be prepared to take on responsibility and heal the wounds with his father?

Studying at the Experimental Centre of Cinematography in Rome, Italian director Giulia Regini has crafted an elegant tale of family turmoil replete with simmering tension and strong performances. Cineuropa talked to her on the occasion of the world premiere of the short film as part of EFP’s Future Frames at Karlovy Vary.

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Cineuropa: What intrigued you about telling the story of two brothers and a fractious family relationship?
Giulia Regini: The themes that fascinate me are always those moments of transition. I am especially drawn to the question: when do you really become an adult? Because I don't think the answer necessarily comes from researching the adolescent period. One becomes an adult when one begins to cut ties, which can be in terms of bonds, relationships or groups. My areas of research are almost always contexts that seem codified, or which have rules. For example, in the case of my film, what spurred me on was going into a butcher’s shop at a quiet moment and seeing these two brothers challenge each other to cut a piece of meat in front of their father. It was a challenge to receive approval. So I stayed with them all summer and had them tell me their story, then I fictionalised it.

Family drama is something that has always haunted me. I grew up in a very religious environment, and as a result, I often found myself observing the restrictions that my peers were subjected to. They had a desire to say “No” but were afraid to do so. I like to explore characters that struggle with their desire to leave the nest, which is very difficult to do.

There’s a lot left unsaid in the film: we never find out any details about their past, or what exactly caused one to leave and one to stay. How important was it for you to keep this air of ambiguity and focus upon an important moment in their lives?
A short film always has a limit: time. This requires you to focus on a specific moment and still find a way to make all of those moments that lead up to that situation come alive all the same. In this case, I chose to tell a story about a night of love between two brothers, rather than the reason why they have been separated for many years.

There’s also a sense of exploring the bounds and constraints of masculinity, especially with a father who is chastised for “treating animals better than them” – which is slightly ironic, given the animals are dead. How much did you want to touch upon these themes as you explored the characters?
I grew up in a predominantly male family. I have two older brothers, who are several years older than me. So, ever since I was little, because we couldn't find any activities that could involve me – as I was too young to play with them or understand their games – I used to sit and watch. I grew up observing them, and I was always so fascinated by their way of relating to each other. I understood that they almost had a code in showing their affection, and also in not doing so; it was very different from mine.

Yet they always managed to fascinate me. It was as if behind their exchanges, they were holding back their emotions, their fears. As if they had to abide by a code. I don't think I wanted to touch on the theme of masculinity as much as, as a woman, I think I wanted to look at it from another point of view.