[ turi speaking italian ] >> anthony: at this point, i begin desperately looking for signs of life. hoping that one of them would stir, become revived. i'm frantically swimming around the bottom littered with dead things, looking for one that's still twitching so i could hold it up to the camera and end this misery. but no, my shame would be absolute. for some reason i feel something snap, and i slide quickly, deeply into a spiral of near hysterical depression. is this what it's come to, i'm thinking, as another dead squid narrowly misses my head? almost a decade later back in the same country, and i'm still desperately staging fishing scenes, seeding the ocean with supermarket seafood, complicit in a shameful, shameful incident of fakery?