27/03/2025 - The director chatted with us about his documentary on the Milan-based doctor who helps patients along the challenging journeys of assisted conception and gender affirmation

The only Italian movie in competition at the Sundance Film Festival, and touring national cinemas from 27 March courtesy of Barz and Hippo, GEN_ [+see also:
film review
interview: Gianluca Matarrese
film profile] by Gianluca Matarrese is wholly focused on Doctor Maurizio Bini who has been responsible for the Infertility and Cryopreservation Diagnosis and Treatment Unit in Milan’s Niguarda Hospital since 1995. We spoke with the director about empathy between doctors and patients, and the dreams and the struggles faced by those who undergo assisted conception and those who wish to reconcile their bodies with their gender identity.

Cineuropa: How did you make the acquaintance of this doctor who has such an extraordinary sense of humanity?
Gianluca Matarrese: Documentary films are always about encounters. I met Doctor Bini through Donatella Della Ratta, who teaches in the Media Studies department of John Cabot University in Rome and who’s writing a book about the social history and political economy of hormones in relation to IVF and gender assignment. She knows the themes I’m exploring, and she said: come with me, there’s enough material for a film here. This character is the only one of his kind; we ended up observing Doctor Bini for a whole year.

What kind of “human material” are you most interested in for your explorations?
On this particular occasion, a window onto a world opened up for us: the seat which patients sit on in that clinic. It’s what Bini calls human variety. That’s what I’m all about. I lingered on the edge of that comfort zone with the camera, that zone between the patient and the doctor, observing that pioneering medicine without interfering or being intrusive.

What kind of approach did you take so as not to interfere, and what techniques did you use?
I used lenses to shoot the film; the camera was incorporated into the library, it’s wasn’t hidden. I didn’t use a sound engineer, and I didn’t attach microphones to anyone: I integrated our microphones inside the space before the consultations started. Rather than voyeurism there was observation: of intimacy, desires, human needs, necessity.

So the patients were fully aware that they were talking to the camera too?
We spoke with the patients beforehand, explaining the aims behind the project, and it was really surprising to see how people wanted to share their private lives for all kinds of reasons. There were some who did it to show others the kind of road they were walking at that particular point in time, and there were militants and activists too. It’s a film based on the bond of trust between the patients, Doctor Bini and ourselves.

The documentary raises ethical dilemmas. We don’t see anyone who’s against these practices protesting outside the hospital, but we do see different viewpoints.
Cinéma vérité is about observing what’s happening, not making it happen. I didn’t seek out protesters. But there’s also opposition in that clinic: parents clash over it, as we hear through their children or doctors; there are patients who have ethical or religious doubts, the patient who doesn’t want to freeze her embryos because, in her eyes, they represent life. Obviously, the film is an instrument, but it doesn’t forget anyone; there are also viewpoints from people who have taken extreme paths and who aren’t well-adjusted in terms of what they actually need. There are trans and gay communities who are against medical assistance, but medical support is essential and it’s a good thing that public services are taking responsibility for these journeys.

The leaders of some countries, such as the USA, are dismantling support structures, removing protection for LGBTQ+ communities and rewriting the meaning of equality.
This film took its first steps in America; we had our premiere in Sundance and screenings at Moma in New York, and for Americans its science fiction. Many of them asked me if this was a militant film, but my answer is always that I don’t make films to be political. The reality in which we’re living is political, the private is political, what Doctor Bini does is political - we can’t ignore that. The clear message conveyed by this film is that, in a country like Italy, despite the political friction and opposition, there’s a place like this one, which takes care of the individual and which sets an example of hope for all the world to see. Compared to other societies which only take care of people who have money or influence. Themes like these are often sensationalised or exploited by politics. We’re looking to normalise patients who opt for these medical procedures. You connect with the film and with themes of parenthood and gender identity simply because they’re universal.

(Translated from Italian)