“That little cinema by the sea” tells the story of a hundred-seat cinema just a stone’s throw from the coast and the daily rescue of reels and posters worn down by time. The voices of critics, filmmakers, academics, cinema operators and administrators piece together what it meant for Bari to cross that threshold: to sit in the dark, waiting for the projector to start, discussing the film afterwards, and discover works far removed from commercial logic. For many, it was their first encounter with an alternative cinema—freer, more demanding. At the same time, the camera follows the work in the storage rooms and laboratories: reels running across the editing tables, emulsions for cleaning the film, torn posters to be pieced back together, files to be reorganised. Restoration is not presented as theory, but as a physical act: dust removed, cuts stitched back together, colours brought back to life. The small cinema by the sea thus becomes the place where the cycle comes full circle: the frames that were once screened there are brought back to life thanks to patient work that allows them to be shared once more for new generations.
