#Danny Palumbo

[silverfoxlink]

hey guys what happened to danny palumbo?

[cavenewstimes]

On My First Camping Trip, My Friend Put Me in Charge of Food. I Decided to Make … Linguine and Clams.

Food Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Campfire When my friend asked me to handle the cooking for our camping trip (my first), I decided that it was time to bring the red-sauce joint to the woods. What could go wrong? Photo illustration by Slate. Photos by Danny Palumbo and tanialerro/iStock/Getty Images Plus. One thing about me: I have a thirst for hard work and idiocy. To my detriment, I…

[siciliatv]

Favara, domani sabato 19 sospensione delle attività didattiche

Sospensione delle attività didattiche domani a Favara. In considerazione dell’allerta Arancione diramata da parte della Protezione civile regionale, viste le previsioni di intense precipitazioni anche sulla città di Favara, il sindaco Antonio Palumbo ha firmato un’ordinanza che sospende le attività didattiche per la giornata di domani, sabato 19 ottobre, in tutte le scuole di ogni ordine e grado. Saranno inoltre vietate le attività all’aperto e verranno chiusi parchi, ville, cimiteri e giardini pubblici. Ai cittadini viene prescritto di liberare verande, balconi e terrazze da oggetti che potrebbero staccarsi e provocare danni a terzi. Viene consigliata massima cautela nella concomitanza dei fenomeni temporaleschi. Read the full article

[thecomedybureau]

Straw Men is, without a doubt, one of our new favorite shows of the year in how it puts many of the funniest people in LA to have the most absurd debates ever using the dumbest arguments and childish tactics possible.

While name-calling, the title-inspiring “straw man”, tangential insults, etc. are not at all productive in real debates between politicians that steer the course of policy at any level, it’s pretty damn fun to watch comedians do it in a theater.

So, go get your tickets for the next Straw Men, happening next week!

[ifyoubuilditcomedyla]

7/2/18

Sabrina Jalees Solomon Georgio Brent Weinbach Kevin Camia Danny Palaumbo

[data2364]

Tom Selleck as Frank Reagan 2011 in Blue Bloods "Family Ties"

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1790038/

[twilightzonezone]

This week we're joined by the stellar and funny and immediately likable Danny Palumbo! Danny's a stand-up comic from Pittsburgh who cut his teeth in Austin before making it to LA! Three different places!

Anywhoozle, we watch "The Jeopardy Room" . It's Season 5, Episode 29 and one of very few episodes that doesn't feature any paranormal elements! We discuss villain accents, the Saw franchise, and the elements of dramatic tension!

You can follow Danny on Twitter @Palumbros

[hottubshow]

HOT TUB FEBRUARY 13TH!

Tickets:  http://hottub.nightout.com

Poster designed by Morgan Heslin 

More Hot Tub:

@HotTub_Show

http://www.facebook.com/HotTubShow

Instagram: hottub_show*

[corallorosso]

Ercolano, la storia di Giuseppe Fusella e Tullio Pagliaro, incensurati, scambiati per ladri e uccisi da Vincenzo Palumbo La morte di Giuseppe Fusella 26 anni, studente universitario laureando in materie economiche e Tullio Pagliaro, 27 anni, operatore del mercato di fiori,  uccisi entrambi a colpi di pistola da Vincenzo Palumbo,  autotrasportatore 53 anni, sposato e con due figli, nella notte tra il 28 e il 29 ottobre a Ercolano, popoloso centro vesuviano in provincia di Napoli, ha ancora degli elementi da chiarire. Di certo c'è che i due amici, «due compagni, che si frequentavano» come dice al microfono di Fanpage.it Vincenzo Esposito, zio di Giuseppe, sono vittime di una morte assurda, la tragica vicenda di cronaca nera avvenuta ai danni di due persone «nel posto sbagliato al momento sbagliato». Scambiati per ladri e ammazzati a pistolettate. Dice zio Vincenzo: «È una morte assurda. Il dramma è difficile da affrontare non si sa nemmeno cosa fare e come fare. Ed è il dramma di mia sorella e di mio cognato e dell'altro figlio che ha 19 anni». I due secondo l'uomo erano andati insieme a vedere la partita del Napoli in un bar. «Poi non sappiamo cosa è successo. Confusi con due ladri? Al momento c'è riserbo degli inquirenti, aspettiamo». Famiglie normali, semplici, entrambi i ragazzi – entrambi residenti a Portici – non avevano la benché minima relazione con elementi della criminalità locale, erano incensurati. https://www.fanpage.it/

[fringecomedyshow]

Los Feliz! Fringe 1/29/18

More Fringe: Twitter @FringeOnMondays & Facebook

Subscribe to Mailing List: Here

Poster Art by  Anando Ghosh

[thelaughbutton]

Comedy doc "Funniest" explores diversity while celebrating the range of Austin's stand-up scene

Comedy doc “Funniest” explores diversity while celebrating the range of Austin’s stand-up scene

“Here we go again.” This is a sentiment expressed throughout directors’ Katie Pengra and Dustin Svehlak’s documentary, Funniest. The film follows six comedians competing in Austin, Texas’ “Funniest Person in Austin” stand-up comedy tournament, an annual event held at the Cap City Comedy Club that — over 32 years — includes past winners like Brendon Walsh, Chip Pope, Chris Fairbanks, and Martha…

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 9

Warnings: Mentions of violence.

Colton had offered to retrieve my car and park it on the top level of the parking garage, so the herd of relentless paparazzi outside wouldn’t catch a shot of me leaving the hotel in clothes from the night before, at 10 a.m the following day. The 16-minute drive back to my apartment had soothed me deeper into a sleepy trance, along with the settling smorgasbord from breakfast. A dizzy nausea was attacking me too, as the nerves for Colton’s fight in only a handful of hours kept growing, and growing. He liked to be the overly-confident big mouth when it came to the topic, but I knew there had to be a sliver of anxious stress somewhere in him. I knew because I’d heard him go on & on about how “important this was to his career,” and he “hated to admit it, but he really needed to prove himself across the world of MMA.” 

I gulped a swig of Pepto Bismol from the bathroom medicine cabinet, and stripped my clothes for a much needed power nap in my bed which suddenly felt like rocky ground after sleeping on the expensive pillowtop at the hotel last night.

Warmer days were more & more frequent in the city now, so I was able to wear a suede peep-toe bootie that night. I followed instruction and sported my leather jacket per Colton’s request, along with a loose-fitting black shift dress that rubbed at my mid-thigh. My makeup a bit more dramatic courtesy of the cobalt blue trace of eyeliner I added, and my hair left down, tousled with loose waves. I never usually let it get much passed shoulder length as it held more tangles in doing so. But, the man in my life had quite the attraction to my now very lengthy, ombre blonde strands. Any time he’d escort me to the shower, I was required to turn my back to him for a brief moment so he could observe the water cascading through my hair, causing it to paint slickly down to the bra line of my back. He combed his digits through the ends, tracing the flow of warm water down to the noticeable dimples indented in the small of my back. So, not quite ready to let go of that particular little habit he had developed, I indulged him with a longer style for now. Wrestling with myself after awaking from my nap, I texted him.

L: Thanks again for last night <3  I’ll be sure to pack my first aid kit in case you need some extra TLC tonight!

Fully expecting just to be left on “read” without a reply, I was all the more pleasantly surprised when I heard his designated text tone chime across the bedroom.

C: No. Thank YOU for last night. And if those medical supplies you’re talkin’ about include a tight fittin’ little nurse outfit then YES PLEASE!!!!! I love you, Livvy Caroline.  

After arriving at the Palumbo Center, I decided to park my Honda in the covered complex rather than on the street, figuring I’d probably be loaded up into the black Suburban that Colt had rented so he & the team could all ride together this weekend, to paint the town after his victory. I tucked my arm through the chained strap of my crossbody purse & adjusted the “L” pendant necklace that was nestled between my cleavage. I felt sexy; important even. No one else in the arena knew that I was the girlfriend of the lethal animal that would be headlining tonight, but I certainly did. And it made me high.

I strolled boldly into the side entrance, greeting one of the guards I had become familiar with throughout the countless other events I had covered at the Palombo. Emmett, a towering steel wall of unyielding strength.

“Pretty as ever, Ms. Liv. How you doin’?” he said with the polite tipping of his worn tan Ascot hat.

“Doing fantastic, Emmett! You ready for this one?” We always exchanged predictive play-by-plays of whatever particular event of the night was, and I appreciated the fact that he didn’t chuckle or mock when a woman such as myself chimed an opinion in regard to athletics. Something rare, but regretfully present at at least two hockey games I attended for work when I first moved here. One being from a coach I approached for a question post-game, stating that he was “sure I could give him pointers on how to improve the teams’ uniforms if he needed them, but otherwise he didn’t have time to speak with me.” That was the first instance I questioned whether the big city of Pittsburgh would ever be the place for me.

“Oooooooooh girl, you know this gonna be a brawl.”

Chuckling lightly to his animated response, I shook my head with a pat to his arm and moved passed to head to the main room and locate my seat. Since I had entered from the private entrance, I had to navigate through the hallways and locker rooms to reach the arena floor. Smiling blankly at by passers, I reached into the side pocket of my bag for the nude lipstick I planned to apply at my pitstop to the restroom. My pace slowed a bit in struggle to locate it, eyes looking down in search. When I finally grasped it tucked away under a wad of crinkled receipts, my gaze lifted again to push open the door of the ladies’ room. However, I couldn’t seem to muster the very minimal effort it would’ve taken to open it, due to the hooded man marching down the wide hallway.

Mac was leading the pack, and Colton tailed the end of the line with his hands settled into the front pocket of a sweatshirt, headphones adorning his neck. His thinned, focused eyes instantly found mine, rendering me unable to even blink. Just as he was strolling right past me, those very same eyes sank to the now heavy rise & fall of my chest, then traced down the span of my glowy, toned legs. Last on the list of body parts for him to make love to with his eyes, he locked his penetrating sights onto my sex, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. He need not use words, because I knew unmistakably what those black pupils were envisioning. I watched his head turn then to face forward as he was escorted into what I assumed was his locker room. Now that my underwear were sopping for the evening, that was that.

 The profuse adrenaline spreading like a smoky vapor throughout the arena almost had me stimulated like a wave of lust. Not near as much as the very rated PG-13 encounter I had just had with Colton backstage, but stimulated, nonetheless. Black folding chairs lined the room, neon lights showing the stains of gum, spilled soda and ketchup splatters that covered the concrete floors. My seat was two rows behind the announcers table, and I was pleased with the exceptional view I would have for the fight. The jumbotron hanging from the rafters displayed a countdown clock reading 37 minutes until the match would be underway. I settled in, tucking my purse into my lap after removing my cell phone for some leisure social media catch up to aid in passing the time.

The crowd steadily poured into the empty seats, along with the television broadcasters at the booth in front of me. Luckily, I was able to eaves drop on the preshow now underway, hearing one of the suited men state that “Danny Mendez was in for a true contest with Colton Ritter.” An ounce of relief came over me that there were people other than myself and members of Colt’s camp who sincerely believed he had a very likely shot of stealing the belt tonight, but not enough relief to still the tapping of my toe, or erase the clamming of my twiddling hands. Suddenly the bulbs of the LED gym lights began clicking off row by row, and rap music began to thump from the mega speakers. 15 minutes running down the clock now. Short clips of Danny’s past battles flashed on the theater size screen, along with a few clips from Colton at the gym. Before I knew it, total darkness for a moment, followed by circling blue spotlights all around the cage.

Realizing it was indeed showtime now, whistles, claps and sporadic shouting ensued under the arena rooftop. Everyone began standing when the chords of “Let’s Go” by Run The Jewels struck up and a single white light aimed towards the tunnel entrance. Colton had left me with the daunting responsibility of selecting his song of introduction, so I knew any moment he would emerge into sight when I heard the tune begin.

Colton came trudging into view wearing the same sweatshirt he’d been sporting earlier, only now changed into his red fighting trunks. Mac’s logo, along with several other local business names were stamped as sponsors down the sides of his shorts. I was shocked at how many fans of his were revealed by the off-beat chants of his name, and of course the army of female admirers hooting like retrievers in heat. He didn’t waste any time making his way to the waiting referee, offering no high fives or fist bumps to hecklers swatting over the steel barricades of the aisle. He stripped the sweat absorbed shirt handing it to Mac, raised his arms to be patted from top to feet, then pulled back his lips to reveal he was wearing his required mouthguard. I always loved the way the chunky plastic made his lips fatten out when clenched between his teeth.

Next, the black latex gloves of the official smeared a thin layer of petroleum jelly onto each cheek bone, along the bridge of his nose, then across his perspiring forehead, and granted him entry into the cage door. Colton took one of the three steps entering and proceeded to jog two laps around the perilous steel playpen, rolling and stretching his bulging neck and trap muscles. He continued familiarizing himself with every square inch of the octagon mat taking in deep gulps of air through his nostrils, then exhaling gradually out his mouth. From what I could see, he gave the impression of a man prepared, focused and dangerously hungry for blood. The boom of Danny’s theme song didn’t seem to faulter Colton’s bluish eyes. Clear eyes, just like I had told him.

The second fighter followed his own pattern of flashy introductions kissing the cheeks of two women and a baby along his journey in, then aiming a single middle finger towards Colt during his examination from the same ref. When the door was latched behind him, both warriors stalked their opponent.

The suited announcer took his mark in the center, microphone in hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, good evening and welcome! The following match up is for the Professional Fighter’s Federation Middleweight Championship. Introducing first in the left corner your challenger weighing in at 184 pounds in his PFF debut, Colton Ritterrrrrr.”

“And in your right corner, the current undisputed Middleweight champion with a weight of 181 pounds Danny “The Matador” Mendez.”

I wanted to join the thundering “boo” at the mention of his name too, but refrained professionally. Mendez had fans, but many of them boastful douchebags such as himself.

I felt as if I needed to bury both hands over my heart to trap it inside my chest, and I can only imagine the feelings that were swarming Colton’s body. Tyson O’Brien, the preferred ring official across the circuit was passed the mic and motioned Mendez and Colton to step to him.

“Alright fellas, we’ve been over the rules. Protect yourself at all times, and you will follow my instructions. We’re gonna have a clean fight tonight. Touch gloves.”

Neither seething man extended a hand, instead retreated to their labeled corners with no interest other than drawing blood.

Tyson addressed Colton, “you ready?” Receiving one single nod in answer. After the same reply from his opponent, he dropped a hand to begin the time. The clock began ticking on potentially the most sickeningly vexing 25 minutes on my sheltered life.

 Round One

Twenty-five seconds in, and a fist had yet to be thrown. The two danced gracefully barefoot around each other, faces hid partially behind gloved fists. I could tell by the unsteady breaths from his nostrils that Colt was holding back a brutal eruption. Mac coached him to pace himself, because Mendez had a reputation of exhausting an opponent to the point of break, then he would unleash. So slow and steady would most likely win this race.

Colton would be the first to stretch forth in assault, however only connecting with Mendez’s thrown block. I swear I could hear a wisp of power cut through the air. The instant combo of left-right-right he threw next though, tagged his opponent just below the right eye. Danny smiled at the pain, now extremely ready to get things started indeed. Colton seemed to have a bit of an advantage with a reach much longer than Mendez, resulting in explosive strikes to the reddening body of the predicted victor.  His head movements strategically executed to clear any blows to the face in the first 2.5 minutes, but the leg kicks from the current champ were connecting painfully to his thighs. The handsome combatant carried a slight limp on his left leg for a moment, babying it from the strike. One leg lift however played in his favor when he was able to grab Danny’s calf and manage a powerful takedown that sent his back crashing to the ground.

Before he was pinned under Colt’s powerful legs, he managed to turn on all fours on his elbows. The attempt to escape was lost nevertheless when my red shorted fighter wrapped one arm around his torso, crushing with the force of a vice grip. He had evidently done his homework for this match up. His hands pounded like concrete blocks against the cauliflower ear and exposed temple of Danny, one blow he connected on the corner of his brow even resulted in the first blood secretion on the mat. He was like a great white in the open water inhaling the sent of a wounded seal. His right-hand imposed fist after fist, and Mendez was visibly shook.  37 seconds remained on the timer.

Shortly thereafter the time keeper smacked together his wooden blocks to notify now only 30 seconds left in the round. Dan wormed his way out of the hold to stand to his feet, placing ample space between the two of them for a brief instant before charging Colton with a swift roundhouse kick, thankfully missing. A blow horn shrieked, and the men retreated to corners joined by training staff members. I thought I may need medical attention next when I released a breath of momentary relaxation and noticed the half moons of nail marks I had pushed into the inside of my thigh. This round undoubtably belonged to Colton.

 I was suffocating the urge to dart straight to the concession stand for a generous dose of nerve settling liquor. Was I cut out to be the girlfriend of a fighter? Could I really stomach watching him suffer blow after blow to the head, or have to spend the weeks after a match nursing a concussion? Driving him around the city in search of an oral surgeon to repair the teeth that had been forcibly removed from his gums? Was I thick-skinned enough to tarry that journey? The answer is no. The idea of it all made me want to projectile vomit the lavish breakfast I had with him that morning. The daunting apprehension that even every day mundane tasks like choosing where to get gas, or what facial cleanser wouldn’t cause a rash literally sent my brain into unnerving override. I didn’t have the thickened skin for it. I wasn’t designed for dramatic unraveling’s. But, he was like a computer technician rewiring a hard drive from the inside out when it came to my old habits. Colton Ritter was reviving me, rebuilding me into the daring, strong and ultimately better version of myself, and I would forever be grateful. I could feel myself developing the depth of not only headstrong, flourishing journalist, but loyal, passionate life partner as well.  So, if nursing contusions or taping broken fingers was necessary to my repertoire, then so be it.

I dialed in on the announcers again in effort to gather expert opinion on predictions now that the first round was in the books.

“I’m gonna be real honest with you, man. This is not at all how I saw this going. Ritter came out explosive! The kid ain’t the slouch that most of the locker room had expected. Matter of fact, Jake, a few guys for Danny’s camp have been callin’ him a ‘pretty boy’.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard that little nickname floating around too, Brett. But it seems to me that so-called pretty boy is doin’ some serious punishing in that cage right now. Solid fist round for the newcomer.”

Pretty boy? Colt would roll over if he heard these guys refer to him that way on the radio. It absolutely suited him on the outward appearance, 98% of the heterosexual female population would agree. Still, it lacked the desired malevolent intimidation factor for the nickname of a mixed martial artist.

How can you spin this, Eliiot? Make it work…hmmm… Pittsburgh Pretty Boy? Ew no, too WWE. Pretty boy.. pretty boy. Pretty Boy Punisher? Oooooh, that’s got a ring to it. The Pretty Boy Punisher.

I would definitely add that to my article. Anything to deter the entire world of cage fighting from calling him a pretty boy, and taking him for a joke.  

The coaches scurried suddenly to the outer walls of the cage, clearing out water bottles and folding black stools before the next round began, and inhuman beasts attacked each other once more.  

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935

[goalhofer]

Last MLB Player To Wear Each Jersey Number: Texas

1: Elvis Andrus (2009-present)

2: Jeff Mathis (2019-present)

3: Delino DeShields; Jr. (2016-present)

4: Joaquin Arias (2008-10)

5: Willie Calhoun (2017-present)

6: Bobby Wilson (2016)

7: Delino DeShields; Jr. (2015)(retired for Ivan Rodriguez 2017)

8: Juan Centeno (2018)

9: Isiah Kiner-Falefa (2018-present)

10: Mike Young (2000-12)

11: Ronald Guzman (2019-present)

12: Rougned Odor (2014-present)

13: Joey Gallo (2015-present)

14: Asdrubal Cabrera (2019-present)

15: Carlos Tocci (2018-present)

16: Ryan Rua (2014-18)

17: Choo Shin-Soo (2014-present)

18: Drew Robinson (2017-18)

19: Jurickson Profar (2016-18)

20: Renato Nunez (2018)

21: Patrick Wisdom (2019-present)

22: Nick Martinez (2014-17)

23: Mike Minor (2019-present)

24: Hunter Pence (2019-present)

25: Jose Leclerc (2019-present)

26: George Wright (1982-84)(retired for Johnny Oates 2005)

27: Shawn Kelley (2019-present)

28: David Murphy (2007)

29: Adrian Beltre (2011-18)(retired for Beltre 2019)

30: Nomar Mazara (2016-present)

31: Chris Martin (2018-present)

32: Kevin Jepsen (2018)

33: Martin Perez (2012-18)

34: Nolan Ryan (1989-93)(retired for Ryan 1996)

35: Lance Lynn (2019-present)

36: Edinson Volquez (2019-present)

37: Jason Grilli (2017)

38: Danny Santana (2019-present)

39: Dario Alvarez (2016-17)

40: Bartolo Colon (2018)

41: Logan Forsythe (2019-present)

42: Never issued (retired league-wide for Jackie Robinson 1997)

43: Kyle Dowdy (2019-present)

44: Jesse Biddle (2019-present)

45: Kenton St. John (2019-present)

46: Peter Fairbanks (2019-present)

47: A.J. Murray (2007-08)

48: Drew Hutchinson (2018)

49: Yovani Gallardo (2018)

50: Tim Federowicz (2019-present)

51: Pedro Payano (2019-present)

52: Adrian Sampson (2018-present)

53: Jesse Chavez (2019-present)

54: Jeffrey Springs (2018-present)

55: Kyle Bird (2019-present)

56: Austin Bibens-Dirkx (2017-18)

57: Ariel Jurado (2018-present)

58: Alex Claudio (2017-18)

59: Brett Martin (2019-present)

60: Luke Farrell (2019-present)

61: Robinson Chirinos (2013-18)

62: Joe Palumbo; Jr. (2019-present)

63: Taylor Hearn (2019-present)

64: C.D. Pelham (2018-present)

65: Yohander Mendez (2016-present)

66: Zack Granite (2019-present)

67: Phillips Valdez (2019-present)

68: Wei-Chieh Huang (2019-present)

69: Never issued

70: Armando Galarraga (2007)

71: Jose Trevino (2018-present)

72: Jonathan Hernandez (2017-present)

73: Never issued

74: Never issued

75: Never issued

76: Brock Burke (2019-present)

77: Luke Jackson (2015-16)

78: Never issued

79: Never issued

80: Never issued

81: Never issued

82: Never issued

83: Never issued

84: Prince Fielder (2014-16)

85: Scott Heineman (2019-present)

86: Never issued

87: Never issued

88: Kyle Blanks (2015)

89: Never issued

90: Never issued

91: Never issued

92: Never issued

93: Never issued

94: Never issued

95: Never issued

96: Never issued

97: Never issued

98: Carlos Almanzar (2005)

99: Never issued

[siciliatv]

Favara, il sindaco Palumbo sul furto alla Scuola "Bers. Urso": autori vergognatevi e costituitevi

Il sindaco di Favara, Antonio Palumbo, interviene in seguito al furto avvenuto nella notte all'Istituto Scolastico Bersagliere Urso di Favara, diretto dalla PRESIDE Rosetta Morreale. Ignoti avrebbero portato via attrezzature elettroniche, carta igienica e detersivi. "Faccio mie le parole di grande amarezza pronunciate questa mattina della dirigente Rosetta Morreale quando ha scoperto che ignoti nella notte hanno rubato attrezzature elettroniche e persino carta igienica e detersivi alla scuola 'Bersagliere Urso': chiunque sia stato, ha rubato a casa propria. Quando privi i figli di una comunità di strumenti per la loro istruzione e formazione, è come se stessi togliendo qualcosa anche a te stesso. E’ questo l’ennesimo furto consumatosi ai danni di un istituto scolastico in città in pochi mesi. E’ un fatto disgustoso, intollerabile, che lascia l’amaro in bocca. Agli autori - continua il sindaco Palumbo - dico solo: vergognatevi. Anzi, di più: pentitevi. Consegnatevi alle forze dell’ordine e restituite quanto avete rubato ai nostri figli. Nessuna forma di bisogno, se per bisogno avete rubato, giustifica quanto avete fatto". Così il sindaco di Favara Antonio Palumbo commenta il furto compiuto nella notte ai danni dell'istituto "Bersagliere Urso". Read the full article

[thecomedybureau]

This comedy debate show, Straw Men, really pushes the envelope with how hilariously childish you can get in a debate and it’s all the more brilliant for it. The catharsis you’ll get from seeing adults resort to name calling in debates over the weirdest topics is just so damn fun. 

So, don’t miss this latest edition of Straw Men, which has a killer line-up as well. Go get your tickets here.

[rumba-tv-canale-12]

Festival di Venezia 78 Mostra del Cinema

Pierfrancesco Favino & Hector Villanueva (Cosa voglio di più è un film del 2010 diretto da Silvio Soldini)

Festival di Venezia 77: Pierfrancesco Favino

miglior attore

Un anno di grandi soddisfazioni per il lanciatissimo e talentuoso Pierfrancesco Favino che si è aggiudicato la Coppa Volpi per la migliore interpretazione maschile alla 77ª edizione della Mostra internazionale d'arte cinematografica, come protagonista del dramma Padrenostro di Claudio Noce.

Mi avete fatto la più bella sorpresa della mia vita. Come ha detto una persona speciale che ha lavorato a questo film, quando si gira un film è come se nascesse una stella e noi viviamo su quella stella per mesi e la sua luce si propaga nello spazio e sugli schermi. Dedico questo premio ai milioni di schermi che si accenderanno, alla luce che si propagherà, al brillare degli occhi nel buio.

Favino ha conquistato la giuria del festival con il ruolo del vicequestore Alfonso Noce, padre del regista del film, che il 14 dicembre del 1976 subì un attentato per mano dell'organizzazione terroristica Nuclei Armati Proletari, in cui persero la vita il poliziotto Prisco Palumbo e il terrorista Martino Zichittella.

Venezia 2020, vincitori: Leone d'oro a Nomadland, Pierfrancesco Favino miglior attore

Assegnati i premi della 77ª edizione della Mostra internazionale d'arte cinematografica.

Favino aggiunge la Coppa Volpi per "Padrenostro" al suo ricco carnet di riconoscimenti ricevuti quest'anno che includono anche un David di Donatello e due Nastri d'argenti al migliore attore protagonista ricevuti per i ruoli di Tommaso Buscetta ne Il traditore e Bettino Craxi in Hammamet.

A seguire la trama ufficiale di "Padrenostro" che arriva nei cinema il 26 settembre.

Roma, 1976. Valerio (Mattia Garaci) ha dieci anni e una fervida immaginazione. La sua vita di bambino viene sconvolta quando, insieme alla madre (Barbara Ronchi), assiste all’attentato ai danni di suo padre Alfonso (Pierfrancesco Favino) da parte di un commando di terroristi. Da quel momento, la paura e il senso di vulnerabilità segnano drammaticamente i sentimenti di tutta la famiglia. Ma è proprio in quei giorni difficili che Valerio conosce Christian (Francesco Gheghi), un ragazzino poco più grande di lui. Solitario, ribelle e sfrontato, sembra arrivato dal nulla. Quell’incontro, in un’estate carica di scoperte, cambierà per sempre le loro vite.

Durante la cerimonia di premiazione Favino ha voluto condividere il premio con tutto il cast del film che include Barbara Ronchi, Mattia Garaci, Francesco Gheghi, Anna Maria De Luca, Mario Pupella, Lea Favino, Eleonora De Luca, Antonio Gerardi e Francesco Colella.