Filippo Brogi belongs to a generation that has never known life off camera. Raised in an Italy layered between the monumentality of its past and the hyper-visibility of its present, his face feels lifted from a Renaissance fresco, yet his gaze is unmistakably contemporary — restless, exposed, vulnerable. In his early twenties, Brogi doesn’t simply embody the new wave of Italian television drama; he quietly unsettles its codes, moving between fragility and control, discipline and desire.
There’s something cinematic about the way he occupies space — tall, magnetic, almost sculptural — and yet his presence is never monumental. It’s porous, threaded with doubt, shaped by a version of masculinity that doesn’t seek to dominate but to question itself. In a cultural landscape obsessed with image, Filippo seems more interested in what the image conceals: the breath before “action,” the silence between lines, the subtle tension between the one who watches and the one being watched.
He isn’t just an emerging actor. He’s a portrait of a generation rewriting the terms of how it wants to be seen.
You’re part of a new generation of Italian actors growing up under the constant gaze of social media. How difficult is it to build an authentic identity when everything already feels narrated and filtered?
Honestly, I try not to think about it too much. I’m aware that social media are very important for our work, not so much because they make an actor better or more talented than others, but because, especially at the beginning, they increase the chances of being considered for certain types of roles. I’m learning how to manage them better, but at the same time I try to spend as little time on them as possible. I try to build my identity in real life rather than on social media, which I would like to use mainly as a support. It’s also important to be aware that, very often, what we see on social media is a fiction.
Your body — tall, magnetic, almost cinematic — is part of your language. How much do you feel observed, and how much do you feel in control of your own image?
Being tall is not always an advantage in cinema. It can create several technical issues. In everyday life, on the other hand, I think it has many benefits. Honestly, I like being tall, even though sometimes I feel observed and it can feel a bit strange. For example, when I’m in the middle of a group of people at an event or a party, it’s unusual to be able to see almost everyone’s faces, and at the same time, they can all see you, so it can be a little awkward.
That said, I do feel comfortable in my body. When I was younger, not so much, but now I do.
What does masculinity mean to you today?
Is it something you feel compelled to deconstruct, or to protect?
I don’t feel the need either to protect or to dismantle masculinity. I believe it can be both a positive and a negative thing, it depends on who you are and on how you relate to others.
When these topics come up, people often take extreme positions, creating polarized ways of thinking that I believe are wrong. You can’t impose on someone how they should or shouldn’t be; instead, we should teach people to accept their own characteristics. Extremes often emerge because, in rejecting who they are in order to conform to dominant ideas or to the expectations of the society they live in, people end up becoming the complete opposite.
Sooner or later, though, everything comes to the surface.
Is there a role you’ve turned down — or would turn down — for ethical or personal reasons?
It’s hard to say whether there could be a role I would refuse for ethical reasons; and by ethics, I mean something related to the character itself, not what’s happening around the film, which would be another matter. In the end, in our line of work, it’s wrong to have prejudices about a character. In the future, though, maybe.
Florence is your hometown. In what ways has its Renaissance aesthetic — that idea of “classical” beauty — shaped the way you see cinema and the body?
Florence is one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and growing up there means, in a way, becoming accustomed to that kind of beauty. What has stayed with me is a pleasure in beauty understood as harmony, across all forms of art. At the same time, especially in cinema. I also really appreciate films that stand out for their raw and unsettling qualities. It’s something that deeply attracts me.
What was your first cultural obsession — a film, an artist, a piece of music — that made you realise you wanted to tell stories?
I was born and raised in nature. In my free time, I would walk through the woods and fields, looking for something to do. I loved building things out of simple pieces of wood, and I could spend hours doing it. In those moments, I would imagine stories and let my thoughts wander.
That, for me, was happiness. That feeling has stayed with me. The desire to invent stories and to be a protagonist within them is one of the reasons I do this work.
When the camera starts rolling, what changes in your breathing?
At first, being in front of the camera on my first sets made me anxious. Everyone is watching you. You feel a lot of responsibility. I felt like I couldn’t fully stay in the scene, and I was short of breath. Yet, there was also a feeling that left me with immense happiness in the end.
Now that I’m better at handling those moments, it’s even more enjoyable. I feel like I’m playing.
You’re in the cast of Un Professore 3, produced and broadcast by RAI. Can you tell us about this experience and who the character you play is?
The experience was wonderful. I had never spent so much time on a set before, so I was very excited. This experience helped me a lot with everything I learned. I have to say, I was welcomed so well by everyone. I always felt a positive atmosphere, and everyone was very helpful. My character was unique, or rather, had a particular story. What we share is that we both grew up in nature, with the di;erence that he never had the chance to experience the other side of the world, the one shaped by social relationships. For me, it was important not to portray him as a foolish person, but as a vulnerable boy exposed to an environment he didn’t understand. I’m happy that people liked it, I received many lovely messages.
If you had to imagine your career as a visual manifesto, what would the image be? Clean and minimal, or raw, fragile, imperfect?
I love plants. they give me a sense of peace, calm, and persistence over time, thanks to their ability to adapt to different environments and situations. I love nature, as I mentioned before.
On the other hand, in a way, I also agree with what Werner Herzog said in an interview in the Amazon rainforest during the filming of Fitzcarraldo. He stated that nature is characterized by violence, obscenity, and misery. I think this contrast captures the world around us very well. I believe that if I were to create a manifesto for my career, this would be a central theme I’d want to explore. So I think it would encompass all the qualities mentioned in the question.
CREDITS
Talent: Filippo Brogi
Press & Image: Davide Musto
Photographer: Sofia Brogi
Fashion Editor: Corinna Fusco