By Mike Sain't Louis ·
Perverso Narcisista: the suit, the mask and the feather coat
Look at the background before the foreground. Behind the guy in the white feather coat there's a man in an impeccable suit, tie neatly knotted, and a skull mask with a cross on the forehead. He's in his office, among green banker's lamps and dark wood, like someone who gives orders without ever needing to shout.
For me that's the key to Perverso Narcisista (Narcissistic Pervert): the dangerous thing almost never stands in front. It stands behind, adjusting its tie, with a painted smile that doesn't move.
The one in front, tattooed up to the neck and wrapped in feathers, looks at the camera with the face of someone who knows perfectly well who's standing behind him. He doesn't look scared. He looks tired of pretending he doesn't see it.
The title doesn't leave much room for interpretation, and the red letters, like a horror film poster, don't either. It's an after-dinner diagnosis, the kind you blurt out among friends when you finally understand what happened to you.
Play it loud and think about who was wearing the mask in your story.