When it came to giving The Juventus Story a voice, the search was long and exhaustive. First, we needed a script - a laborious process that took years, given the century-long timeline and endless pieces to sift through. What’s real? What’s conjecture? How do we tell one story that says it all?

Then came narration. We’d settled on a storybook style that required a lot of it. A lot, a lot. Luckily, we began with the Italian version, knowing that any Italian performer would at least be able to pronounce the sea of Italian words correctly!

Filmed Interview Part One : Giannini on Finding the Voice
Here, the legendary actor speaks about finding the soul of The Juventus Story — how one family, one club, and one voice can echo across generations.

Many names were mentioned, but only one rose to the top - one everyone unanimously agreed we’d be lucky to secure: the super talent with a golden voice, Academy Award® nominee Giancarlo Giannini (nominated for his flawless performance in Lina Wertmüller’s’ Swept Away). At the time we made our approach, Giannini was still relatively fresh off the Daniel Craig Bond installment, Casino Royale, so he wasn’t exactly sweatin’ it.

Fortunately, The Juventus Story directors, Marco and Mauro La Villa, had recently worked with Giannini on an animated film, where he’d come in to record a handful of lines. He was in and out in fifteen minutes - barely enough time to say, “Buongiorno, Signore Giannini, è un gran’ piacer—” and he was gone. Now, the filmmakers had to convince him to take on a whopping fifty pages of narration.

Surprisingly, after a five-minute phone call with his legendary agent, Mario Sconcerti, the deal was done! A few months later, the filmmakers and Giannini would meet beneath Rome’s beautiful Parrocchia-Basilica del Sacro Cuore Immacolato di Maria ai Parioli where the mythical Forum Recording Studios are stealthily located (a magical facility founded by the La Villa brothers’ heroes Ennio Morricone and Luis Bacalov).

A few months later, joined by their Roman secret weapon, Sofia Marmorstein, the filmmakers arrived at the storied recording studio. The sun was shining and there he was - Giancarlo Giannini, waiting on the ancient steps with his agent. Quick greetings were exchanged before Giannini asks to see the script (which had been sent a month or two earlier).

Sofia whipped out copies for everyone. Giannini’s eyes grew very wide as he flipped through the pages and looked dramatically at the filmmakers declaring (in Italian), “This is a book! This is a novel!”. The filmmakers laughed: “Well, it isn’t exactly a book, but it was sent to you a few months ago - before you agreed to come on board. Is this the first time you see it?” Mario Sconcerti blushed and assured everyone there would be no problem.

Giannini then mumbled to himself and announced he’d go back home, study the text for a few hours and return when he was ready. Not the start everyone was expecting - but roll with it they did.

While Giannini worked on internalizing the script, the filmmakers got a tour of the studio where Morricone and Bacalov had recorded some of the most iconic soundtracks in film history. The list of artists who’d been there was endless: Sergio Leone (of course), The Beach Boys, Bruce Springsteen, Chet Baker, Brian De Palma, Cher, Morrissey, Leonard Bernstein, Oliver Stone, Vangellis and even the maestro of all maestros, Nino Rota.

When Giannini finally returned, he was all smiles and ready to go! Not only did Giancarlo masterfully infuse the narration with an incredibly emotional performance - surpassing all expectations - he cared deeply about every word, questioning the material to make sure it stood up. He even debated his heart out over a few bits to make sure we all ended up with the best possible rendition of The Juventus Story.

The Filmmakers and the Vocal Maestro at Work

Get an intimate glimpse at the painstaking process of getting every word just right.

Film Excerpt Featuring the Fine Tuned Narrator

Watch the glorious ‘Cinque Maggio’ scene unfold and listen to Giannini’s flawless delivery.

Filmed Interview Part Two

In the quiet of Forum Studios, Rome, Giannini imagined an entire century without ever seeing a frame.

The filmmakers describe it as a once-in-a-lifetime experience - working with a world-class artist who was equal parts brilliant and, at times, entertainingly feisty. On the final day, after the interview, Giannini turned to the brothers and asked if they knew the title of the Coen Brothers’ first film. Mauro cut him off instantly: “Blood Simple!” Giannini nodded approvingly - he was just testing.

Photos : Sofia Marmorstein

Juventus, founded in 1897 by Turin students (the Canfari brothers et al. from the Massimo d’Azeglio Lyceum), first wore pink shirts with black ties. That color combination is still used for secondary Juventus kits from time to time. You might remember the one Paul Pogba made famous when a certain hip hop entertainer wore the pink jersey which then featured in an artistic rendition by Pharell.

The founding students from the Massimo d’Azeglio Lyceum had very limited means and simply used locally available fabric. Pink flannel or cotton was cheap and easy to find in Turin at the time. The black tie or ribbon was added for contrast — giving the otherwise plain shirt a touch of refinement. Some historians note that Eugenio and Enrico Canfari helped source the pink material from a local supplier, possibly through family connections in textiles. In short: the pink-and-black kit was born of convenience, not design — but it carried a youthful, genteel charm fitting for a club founded by teenage students.

Subscribe now

Legend had it that Juve's original pink and black percale kit was replaced with the black and white striped one by mistake. As the story goes, a box arrived from England where the club had ordered a new set of kits, but the box contained Notts County's striped kit instead of their own. Since shipping and manufacturing in those days wasn't as simple as 'adding to cart' and selecting the desired speed at which to receive your purchase, it was a problem that would have taken months to rectify so Juventus was simply forced to accept and wear whatever was in the box.

Thanks to a recent 2021 deep dive by two researchers, Roger Stirland and Luca Formara, with their discovery of a Corriere dello Sport newspaper column and a diary entry by Domenico Donna (one of Juventus’ original players) we now know a lot more. The diary specifically mentions the first time the pink jerseys were retired, revealing the actual Juventus kit swap story. As the team was getting through those first formative years during the beginning of the 20th century, the soft pink color quickly faded, and by 1901 the club sought a sturdier kit (note that 1903 is still often mentioned as the year this occurred). Enter Englishman Tom Gordon Savage (aka Gordon Thomas Savage and aka John Savage), a Juventus player with Nottingham roots. Tom sent a letter to the Nottingham supplier, probably Shaw and Shrewsbury Sports Co., saying, "Send us at once an elegant kit for the team; let it be something lively, something eye-catching. We are tired of our muffled old-fashioned uniforms."

The package that arrived contained black and white striped jerseys from Nottingham club Notts County—the world’s oldest professional football team. Juventus, apparently reluctant, wore the bold stripes for the first time on Sunday, December 8th, 1901 in a match against AC Milan. Il correre dello sport La bicicletta article from December 9, 1901 resurfaced by Luca Formara reads:

“With kind thoughts the people of Turin had adhered to the invitation of the management of the Milanese club and yesterday from 2pm they were on the field of the Italian Trotter showing off their new colors, no longer white and pink but black and white.”

From faded pink beginnings to iconic black and white, the transformation forged a visual identity now synonymous with mythological greatness.

Subscribe now

We expected to meet Gianluigi Buffon at Vinovo on November 21, 2009, during one of our early development expeditions for the film. After training, management ushered us into a glass enclosure — part greenhouse, part temple — where special guests could meet the players. Some came through smiling, signing jerseys, posing for photos. A still up-and-coming Giorgio Chiellini, veteran Mauro Camoranesi (with a slightly rasta look that day), even Sebastian Giovinco, who gave us the chance to stealthily measure ourselves against him to see if we finally had a height advantage over at least one Juve player. Let’s call it a draw — though we swear our shoulders were broader than the Atomic Ant’s.

Subscribe now

Not every player stopped by. Del Piero, for instance, tried to slip away. We (Mauro actually) spotted him in the car park and, too cool to run over ourselves, nudged a desperate fan into action. It worked. We walked over and got to observe our mystical captain expertly deal with the surrounding Juventini. The fan who played his part walked away with a priceless autograph: a 1996 Champions League jersey signed by Pinturicchio himself. Curiously, we distinctly remember Del Piero didn’t say a word or even make a sound. Watching the fans around him looked like scene from a theme park when kids a world famous Disney character. We played it quiet as well and didn’t get anything signed, but left happy for having acted as midfielders in a small mission accomplished. Back in the glass box, we greeted Fabio Grosso and Martín Cáceres, but the towering presence we had braced for never appeared. Buffon didn’t come.

Fast-forward to the Olimpico in Turin, May 2011. We were finally pitch-side, cameras rolling, just meters away from Gigi. Close — but not close enough. A few months later in Villar Perosa, we stood only a few feet away from him this time. Still not so much as a handshake. Production carried on through that mythical 2011/12 season, with full access and countless encounters. Yet Buffon remained somehow out of reach. The long-awaited moment finally arrived on May 12, 2012, when we not only got to say hello but also ask him anything we wanted to know in an exclusive filmed interview. Gigi did not disappoint.

The Player

Buffon was, from the start, wired differently. Abnormally competitive by nature, he treated training with the same intensity as finals, roaring at teammates who let their focus slip, demanding perfection from himself even when the scoreboard already said “job done.” His edge was less about fire than obsession — an unwillingness to lose in any context, even in small-sided games at Vinovo.

The numbers back the myth. In his debut season at Juventus, he conceded just 23 goals in 34 league appearances, keeping 17 clean sheets and delivering the Scudetto on that fan-favorite final day, 5 maggio 2002. Inter collapsed in Rome, Juve triumphed in Udine, and Buffon lifted his first league title — the sweetest possible introduction to Turin. It was only the beginning: ten more Scudetti, multiple Coppa Italias and Supercoppe, and over 500 appearances later, he is still Serie A’s benchmark for goalkeeping longevity and excellence.

Subscribe now

Leadership was there from the outset. Even as a 23-year-old surrounded by Del Piero, Thuram, and Davids, Buffon’s voice carried loudest in the huddle. Years later, when Juventus reeled from Calciopoli and the abyss of Serie B, it was Buffon who became the axis around which Conte could rebuild. He was less captain and more commander — a leader not appointed but undeniable.

The Person

Yet behind the gladiator’s posture is a person full of contradictions, quirks, and quiet generosity. Buffon, for instance, has a reputation for impatience. On set during one of our film shoots, he executed what we still call the “fastest lav microphone removal in cinema history.” Another time, during the shoot for the third gold star jersey, he managed to vanish Houdini-style before we’d even reset the cameras.

But his true measure came in the summer of 2006. Fresh off lifting the World Cup as Italy’s starting goalkeeper — the absolute peak of his value — Buffon chose to stay when Juventus were relegated to Serie B. The decision was incomprehensible at the time. He had just conquered the world and could have shattered transfer and salary records with a single move. And now he was expected to play in Italy’s minor league? Impossible. Yet he stayed.

When Juve returned to Serie A, the doubts that swirled weren’t about whether he could handle the job. They were about whether he would leave for new adventures and bigger paychecks. Buffon told us in our interview that he felt he had fulfilled his responsibility by bringing Juventus back to the top flight. He believed it was time to go. Clubs abroad waited with larger contracts, and Juve’s own staff feared the inevitable. But then CEO Jean-Claude Blanc showed him a video the staff had prepared — a film reminding Gigi how much he meant to the club and how they still believed they could win the Champions League together. In the end, Buffon stayed. He was paid more, but not nearly what he could have earned elsewhere. What mattered wasn’t the money. It was the meaning.

Leave a comment

He also found time for gestures that meant the world to us: writing the introduction to The Juve Story book, starring in that third gold star jersey shoot, and even showing up at our premiere. Favors that spoke less of superstar distance and more of human loyalty.

The Invincible

All of which set the stage for 2011/12 — the season of perfection. Buffon’s fingerprints are on every twist of Juventus’s unbeaten march.

There was the penalty save against Francesco Totti in Rome — a moment that could easily have handed Juve their first loss. Instead, Buffon’s right hand wrote another chapter of defiance into the rivalry.

And then there was the day-to-day wall he built behind Barzagli, Bonucci, and Chiellini — the now-mythic BBC. Twenty-one clean sheets in 35 appearances, just one shy of the all-time Serie A record set by Fabio Cudicini and Sebastiano Rossi. His presence allowed Conte’s Juventus to attack without fear, knowing their last line was the best in the world.

There was also the Hollywood drama in Lecce, when his mishandled back pass gifted an equalizer in the 85th minute.

In most seasons, that could have shattered an unbeaten run. In this one, it became a reminder of Buffon’s humanity: even gods can stumble, but invincibility is forged in recovery.

A week later, in Cagliari, he was steady as granite, restoring the calm that had momentarily cracked. And then, on the final day, Juventus not only sealed the impossible Scudetto — they also fulfilled every Juventino’s dream of stitching on the third gold star before either of the Milanese rivals could add their second. It was the closing act of a season that had restored pride and delivered on the wish Gianni Agnelli had first voiced back in 1990.

Subscribe now

Gianluigi Buffon has been called many things: Superman, the Goat and a living legend, a sometimes flawed human, obsessive competitor, loyal captain. But in Juventus’ Invincible season he really was all of them at once.

Leave a comment

WHEN: September 8, 2011

WHO: John Elkann | CEO Exor (Parent company of Juventus)

It was a beautiful afternoon in Turin, around four o’clock, when we sat down for the first of a few on-camera chats with the family’s friendly and thoughtful leader. Behind him we got constant glimpses of inaugural ceremony preparation as the stadium’s doors were to imminently open to the public for the first time. Simply, we set out to get to know John, the person, in order to breathe life into the on-screen character who would rise up in the Juventus Story’s third act. Revisiting this discussion now over a decade later really takes us back while simultaneously offering you a chance to get to know him in such a casual setting.

LA VILLA
Question numero uno.
Starting right at the beginning, as a kid growing up…

ELKANN
Football started in Brazil for my brother [Lapo] and myself because we lived there as kids. Brazil is a country where football is a big, big deal, which you actually end up playing. So more than participating as a supporter, it really starts with you playing football in the streets.

LA VILLA
Where in Brazil?

ELKANN
In Rio de Janeiro.

LA VILLA
You went to school there? How old were you?

ELKANN
We went to school there. I was six. My brother was four and a half. Before that we lived in the UK, but we were small, so there football was very unknown [to us] and going to Brazil it became something with which we started living.

It was about playing when you were in school, on the beach or playing in the streets. It was a big, big thing, where everybody decides to play. You’re in the park and you put two shirts and then you just have a ball. A ball is very simple to have. It doesn’t cost a lot of money and that is how fundamentally we started [to experience] football. Living in Brazil, we never really were close to any specific teams. We spent most of our youth enjoying football as soccer players. And what was interesting was to emulate and the idea of big players.

So the big players were fundamentally Brazilian players. You related to them not because you were from Botafogo, from Fluminense native Flamengo, but you just had these big players.

LA VILLA
Lapo said Falcao was one of his favorite. Socrates.

ELKANN
But they were more related to Brazilian players in the national team of Brazil, than related to the Italian championship.

My recollection was from ‘80s when Italy won in 1982. We were in Greece was when I was six years old. Those were the first real matches and [where I had] an understanding of a relationships between Italy - of us being Italian - and of Italy and Juventus. Because that [Italian] team was really the backbone of all of Juventus. So that was the first understanding of Juventus for us. The relationship Italy-Juventus and how Juventus was a big thing.

But our reality was a Brazilian reality. And so we weren’t really guided by those [Italian] players. And the second big [football] influence was a Japanese cartoon where you had these, Japanese football players called “Holly and Benji” (from the 1983 Japanese animated series, ‘Captain Tsubasa’ aka in Brazil, ‘Super Campeões’ and in Italy, ‘Holly e Benji, due fuoriclasse’), which basically were kids who were playing great football, doing incredible things.

LA VILLA
And you’re watching that in Brazil or?

ELKANN
We were watching that in Brazil.

LA VILLA
And this is the period from when you’re six years old to--

ELKANN
Twelve-When you still think you can be a champion of something.

LA VILLA
Your position was in the midfield? Or striker? Goalie?

ELKANN
It was midfield. No goalie, no defense and so that was football for us. Emulating Brazilian champions and emulating these cartoons. These cartoons are quite impressive.

LA VILLA
We’ve got to find [that show], we’re going to watch it.

ELKANN
Juventus was remote and the first real link was through the Italian national team.

LA VILLA
But growing up in the family, you start to hear things, people probably mention it to you slowly… you knew that your grandfather was connected, owned the team and so on.

ELKANN
Yeah, but it wasn’t really part of our daily life. So it was something which existed, but we didn’t really relate to.

When we came back to Europe [from living in Brazil], to Paris then it started to be more present. Our first relationships with Juventus was when we were ten, eleven, twelve years old and we’d go to our grandparents for holidays in Villa Perosa (the Agnelli family’s home town just north of Turin).

What you saw in Villa Perosa, was the team visiting the house, and that was the moment when we would meet them. That’s when it first began with Juventus, around ten to twelve years old. What was interesting as a kid, really, was to ask for autographs and be able to speak with the players.

LA VILLA
And so you’re kickin’ around the house. You see the players arrive, get autographs, take pictures and then go down the hill to see the game.

ELKANN
Then we would go down and see the game and that was very I mean, that was quite unbelievable because you actually had the opportunity of of seeing them in action up close, speaking to them, getting autographs from them.

That was really the buzz and the excitement. Yeah and then you’d have a lot of people thinking that you knew what the new team was going to be like, which we clearly didn’t know and who were going to be the next new player signings. Which was also topic of conversation with my great uncle Umberto or my grandfather, as the fans and journalists tried to give them some tips, ideas, and advice.

I remember well in, in Italy, when you had the ‘90 World Cup, I was 14 years old.

LA VILLA
We were here [in Italy] for the whole summer. That’s when they built Delle Alpi stadium too (where Juventus played their home matches until it was demolished in 2009 and also where the new stadium was built in 2011).

ELKANN
That’s when they built Delle Alpi. I was fourteen years old and Toto Schillaci was the big revelation of that year. He was in Juventus, and we went to Turkey that year and everybody would call every Italian Toto Schillaci. All the Italians were Toto Schillaci.

LA VILLA
We had two tickets for Italy vs USA in Rome but my cousin took them from us. We later ended up with the crappiest tickets in Bari, but, we got to see the consolation match with England and Toto Schillaci. We sat right behind the net and he scored his 6th goal. We saw the penalty shot of Toto Schillaci when he became the capocanoniere--

ELKANN
of the the World Cup.

LA VILLA
That stadium, designed by Renzo Piano, was also just built.

ELKANN
Yes, the San Nicola.

LA VILLA
Impressive. Yeah. And we saw a couple other matches before the consolation with Roger Milla.

ELKANN
Yes the Cameroon [Indomitable] Lion!

LA VILLA
Getting back to when you were just becoming aware of Juventus when you’re around Gianni and Umberto. How was the energy like with them? Did they get tense and serious, or were they a more passionate? What was it like? Could you speak to them about Juventus or didn’t [they not] want to be bothered during or before a match? Was there anything you can remember?

ELKANN
Yeah. Yeah, absolutely. I mean during the games, they wouldn’t speak. So with both Umberto and my grandfather I saw games with them at the stadium and on TV. They would be very, very concentrated on the game if it wasn’t going well-- but they’d express their happiness and be happy to share that happiness about a great goal.

But before the game it was a very focused moment. I would say there wasn’t that much nervousness. The games were generally on Sunday afternoon, so you’d have, lunch and then after that you’d go to the football match. I did that often, but that was much later when I was living here. I was 18 and I was studying.

Having said that, with Umberto and my grandfather you’d have lunch and you’d speak about anything. You never sensed some nervousness. Now, if the match was an important match, then you’d have more people for lunch, coming for the match and so that created some excitement--

LA VILLA
Lunch at?

ELKANN
Umberto’s house or my grandfather’s here in Turin. And if you had like big matches, European matches which were at night then with those you’d sense even more energy in the air. The big matches like a Champions League final which we also attended — we went to Rome and then Amsterdam to win.

LA VILLA
The 1996 win. You were at the 1996 [UCL final we won]--

ELKANN
Yeah.

LA VILLA
Because there’s one tiny little shot that I saw of your grandfather walking through the stadium corridors right after we won and as people are sort of attacking, a fan attacks and kisses him.

ELKANN
Yeah, I was there. But we weren’t in the stadium during the penalties. We watched them on TV in a corridor.

So we didn’t we weren’t in the stadium, we walked away and there was a TV and we watched them there when they won.

LA VILLA
In the hallway. And that’s when your grandfather says, “Mi son piaciuti i rigori.” in that little interview (”I liked the penalties.”) right before the fan jumps in and kisses him. We see there’s you and Platini walking right behind your grandfather.

LA VILLA
There are some particular matches we want to talk about - [like] that Champions League final in particular - your grandfather was very happy.

ELKANN
Yeah he was very happy. But I went to the others. I was in Munich with my grandfather. I went to Manchester with my uncle, Umberto. But yeah, after we saw the penalties (in Amsterdam) he was very happy.

Then we all wanted to go home, have a good dinner and cherish those moments.

LA VILLA
He must have slept well that night.

When it came time to prepare for the film’s launch in Italy, our focus turned to the poster — the face of the movie. A poster isn’t just a marketing tool; it’s the image that must carry the story into city streets, onto billboards, and across the web. It has to capture the essence of the film in a single frame and stir enough excitement to make someone want to see it.

When you talk about film posters, you inevitably start with Saul Bass. His work defined the medium… elegant visual solutions, bold graphic composition, instantly iconic logos, unforgettable opening credits. Saul Bass remains the maestro, and his legacy was part of our inspiration. His work reminded us that a poster only succeeds when it captures the soul of the story.

The first attempts, done internally and with outside designers, leaned on the five-stripe logo and tried to weave in players. But the result felt incomplete. The story didn’t yet live in the design. Ours could never be just about players. It had to be about football and family, together.

Subscribe now

After multiple iterations, by the first design team we were told that fitting so many characters within the five stripes just couldn’t be done. It was an ask that demanded too much weight to balance. More drafts piled up, dozens of experiments, each circling closer to what we wanted but never quite arriving.

It took a fresh perspective, a new team of designers (who happened to be Juventini), to finally crack it. They lined up family at the center, with football orbiting around them and in the stripes as we so desperately wanted. Simple. Inevitable. True to the story.

Here we present not only the final design, but also the many near misses and variations, that mark the path to the poster we chose. Together they trace a journey: from pure football to the fuller truth — football and family, united in black and white.

You can own a truly unique piece of cinematic and football history with The Juventus Story Special Edition Collector’s Poster. This isn’t just a poster; it’s a museum-grade print, a tribute to the legendary Bianconeri, and a rare collectible for the most dedicated fans.

Each poster is meticulously printed on premium stock, ensuring exceptional color vibrancy and archival quality that will stand the test of time. Limited to an exclusive run of only 100 prints, every poster is individually numbered, guaranteeing its authenticity and rarity.

GET YOURS

Subscribe now

Some names don’t just belong to a football club; they define it. For Juventus, Giampiero Boniperti is one of those names. He entered the first team as a teenager in 1947, just as Italy was beginning to breathe again after the devastation of war. By the time he retired in 1961 he had become the face of the club, the standard against which all who followed would be measured. To open our Legends series, we start with Boniperti not because he was simply great, but because he distilled Juventus into a person: intelligence, loyalty, and the will to win.

The Player

Boniperti’s first appearance came on March 2, 1947, against A.C. Milan. Barely 18, he scored on his debut, an early glimpse of his ability to make decisive moments look inevitable. He was never the most physical forward — not tall, not particularly fast — but he read the game with uncanny precision. His timing, positional sense, and instinct allowed him to appear in the right place at the right moment.

In the late 1940s he was deployed as an inside forward, part of the old WM formation. He quickly proved himself a natural finisher, striking with both feet and capable of subtle headers. He had a knack for finding pockets of space between defenders, then dispatching the ball before they could react. There was little waste in his play; where others might embellish, Boniperti was economical, direct, and efficient.

As the 1950s began, Juventus rebuilt its attack around him. Danish imports John Hansen and Karl Aage Præst joined him in what became known as the Trio Magico. Hansen’s aerial dominance and Præst’s wing play gave Boniperti the perfect platform: he could link the lines, drift across the attack, and decide when to strike. He wasn’t the sort of forward who dazzled with tricks, but his intelligence set the rhythm. When the ball came to him, the move suddenly made sense.

Alongside teammates like Carlo Parola (himself a symbol of post-war Juventus) Boniperti embodied the club’s return to prominence. Later in the decade, when Juventus signed Welsh powerhouse John Charles and Argentine genius Omar Sívori, he adapted again. No longer the primary goal-scorer, he reinvented himself as the fulcrum of the forward line. He ceded the spotlight without complaint, feeding passes to Sívori or clearing space for Charles. Where many strikers fade when asked to share responsibility, Boniperti thrived. He proved that a great player is not just measured in goals, but in how he elevates those around him.

What defined him most was clarity of purpose. Every touch had intention; every run mattered. He rarely wasted motion, rarely indulged in theatrics. He played as if Juventus were an extension of himself: serious, elegant, focused, and relentless.

The Person

Those who only encountered Giampiero Boniperti through headlines or history books might imagine that, by his eighties, he had mellowed into a gentle elder statesman. According to Marco and Mauro La Villa, who met him twice in his Moncalieri office while preparing The Juve Story, nothing could be further from the truth.

They recall that they scarcely had time to sit down before Boniperti seized control of the meeting, launching into tales of his glory days with the same conviction that once carried him through ninety minutes on the pitch. He didn’t simply recount the past, he reenacted it. Shoves, elbows, sudden bursts of movement — the competitive fire was still very much alive, and it was impossible not to be swept along by his energy. Even decades removed from the field, Boniperti carried himself as if the match had never ended.

That same combination of drive and guile came through in a story Boniperti shared about his humble beginnings in Barengo and his first contract with Juventus. He described signing a blank sheet of paper to join the club, an act of pure faith, but when it came to bonuses, he revealed his sharper instincts. With Gianni Agnelli, he negotiated an unusual clause: one cow for every achievement he reached. Agnelli agreed, only to receive a phone call from the farmer charged with fulfilling the bargain. “Giampiero always manages to pick the pregnant ones!” the farmer exclaimed. Rather than take offense, Agnelli laughed, impressed by his young striker’s cunning. Boniperti, telling the tale decades later, broke into gregarious laughter himself, punctuating it with emphatic back slaps.

And then, of course, there are the words forever tied to his name: “Vincere non è importante, è l’unica cosa che conta” - “Winning isn’t important; it’s the only thing that counts.” It was not a slogan but a creed. In every gesture, every anecdote, every encounter, Boniperti confirmed that his life, like his game, was defined by a relentless desire to come out on top.

The Legend

Why does Giampiero Boniperti stand as a Juventus legend? The numbers alone make the case. Across 15 seasons in black and white, he played 443 Serie A matches and scored 178 goals. For decades he was the club’s all-time top scorer, until Alessandro Del Piero surpassed him nearly half a century later.

With Boniperti, Juventus returned to dominance. He won five Serie A titles — in 1950, 1952, 1958, 1960, and 1961 — and two Coppa Italia trophies. He represented Italy 38 times, appearing at the 1950 and 1954 World Cups. At club level, he helped Juventus transition from post-war uncertainty to the powerhouse that would dominate Italian football for generations.

But statistics are only half the truth. Boniperti became captain and leader not because of his records, but because he embodied Juventus itself. He was the first truly modern bandiera of the club: the one-club man who turned down every outside possibility to remain faithful to Turin. He was not only part of great teams; he was the connective tissue that made them whole.

And among his many triumphs, one stands out in particular. Boniperti was captain when Juventus secured its 10th Scudetto in 1958, a victory that delivered the club’s very first Gold Star. That milestone is inseparable from the broader Juventus narrative: you cannot speak of the Third Gold Star without remembering the First. That is why Boniperti’s story is woven into Black and White Stripes: The Juventus Story’s central narrative.

Conclusion

Giampiero Boniperti was not the loudest or the flashiest of footballers, but he was Juventus in its purest form. On the pitch, he played with economy, intelligence, and relentless purpose. Off it, he set the tone of loyalty and ambition. His records, his trophies, and his motto still reverberate, but above all it is the example of how he played the game — with clarity, discipline, and devotion — that made him immortal in black and white.

Italy has long been synonymous with style, and the Milanesi proudly position their city as one of the world’s fashion capitals. Catwalks, couture houses, and global luxury brands all orbit Milan’s gravitational pull.

Yet the most stylish Italian of the 20th century was not from Milan at all, but from Turin. Gianni “l’Avvocato” Agnelli — Juventus’s legendary owner, president during three Scudetti wins, and eternal Tifoso Numero Uno — redefined what it meant to be both powerful and effortlessly elegant.

Agnelli’s style was never costume, never contrived. It was instinctive, iconic, and enduring. Let’s look at three of his signature touches. He left his collar points deliberately unbuttoned, strapped his wristwatch boldly over his shirt cuff, and paired bespoke alpine boots with tailored suits. Each gesture revealed a man whose identity fused football, family, industry and fashion into a singular expression of unforced style.

Collar Points Left Unbuttoned

Among Agnelli’s most recognizable gestures was the way he left his collar points unbuttoned beneath an immaculate suit.

It looked rebellious, but never careless — a detail that signaled authority tempered with freedom. In a country where dress codes were once rigid, Agnelli’s collar became shorthand for confidence and individuality.

It was a flourish so small yet so distinctive that it still defines him in countless images: poised at matches, seated in boardrooms, or stepping out in Turin.

Watch Over the Cuff

No image of Gianni Agnelli is complete without the watch — worn defiantly over the shirt cuff.

In this film excerpt Agnelli responds to renown Italian journalist, Mario Sconcerti’s questions about the Juventus football club (featuring exclusive voice over by Mario Sconcerti himself and Academy Award® Nominee, Giancarlo Giannini, performing Gianni's lines).

On one level, it was pure practicality: a man who valued speed and clarity didn’t have time to tug at sleeves. On another, it became a symbol of authority, a declaration that his sense of time set the rhythm.

What began as functional became iconic, endlessly copied but never equalled. It was a gesture of clarity and originality that travelled from Turin’s boardrooms to the world’s fashion circles and regularly to that storied little pitch in Villar Perosa (seen below).

Alpine Boots with a Suit

Only Gianni Agnelli could pair bespoke alpine boots with a tailored suit and make it look inevitable. The choice spoke of his heritage, a love for the mountains but also of his instinct to fuse practicality with elegance.

The boots were handcrafted, rugged, and purposeful; paired with pinstripes or tweed, the ruggedness made a bold statement. They suggested that refinement could also be resilient, that style need not sacrifice substance.

In this film excerpt a large auto industry crowd is reminded of the importance of punctuality.

Think of having to look the part among world leaders, FIAT factory workers and fellow Juventini. The boots, like the unbuttoned collar points, sent a clear message. He didn’t only want to look good, he also wanted to relate. It was a gesture uniquely Agnelli: aristocrat and alpinist, industrialist and tifoso.

Welcome to our new home: The Juve Story Quarterly.
A site for fans, by fans — built to celebrate everything it means to be Juventino. It’s part cultural magazine, part living archive. Each quarter brings a new issue: a mix of football, culture, and story. It begins with a handful of articles at launch and grows week by week, so the story keeps unfolding right alongside the legacy we’re honoring.

There is something eternal about a first.
The first time you step into a stadium. The first roar of the crowd. The first glimpse of black-and-white stripes under the floodlights. For Gianni Agnelli, that sense of “numero uno” meant something more: the pursuit of Juventus’s third gold star. Not if, but when. The star became an obsession, a destiny stitched into the fabric of the club.

And so here we are with our own first: the debut of The Juve Story Quarterly. Born from Marco and Mauro La Villa’s film Black and White Stripes: The Juventus Story, this Quarterly carries forward the same spirit. Juventus is never just a match. It is memory and myth, a legacy handed down, a style that transcends sport. A story of “number ones” across generations.

In our inaugural issue, we begin with The Invincibles, where Gianluigi Buffon stands as the Number One of all Number Ones. Goalkeeper, captain, philosopher — Buffon was the calm presence and fierce protector who carried Juventus into the 2011/12 season and helped deliver that long-awaited third star. His story opens this issue, as it opened a new chapter in Juve’s history.

In Stories within the Story, we revisit the opening of the J-Stadium, that sleek, modern cathedral to the game, and its inaugural match against Notts County. The club from Nottingham, who gave Juventus their first black-and-white stripes, sent their players to Turin for the first kick.

Every great story has its outtakes, and The Ones That Got Away brings them back to light. Here the cameras linger on Michel Platini’s first season — a sequence too sharp, too saucy for the final cut of the film, but all the richer for its absence.

We also celebrate the art within the story. In The Art of, our pages showcase the motion graphics that bring to life the moment Umberto Agnelli conceived the idea of the gold star. A detail so simple, so graphic, it became universal. It was adopted across Serie A, across leagues, and stitched onto the jerseys of World Cup winners. Alongside it, a look back at the making of the film’s first poster, the image that gave the story its earliest public face.

Style has always had a place in the Juventus story. In The Fashion of, we begin with a figure who embodied tifoso Numero Uno chic: Gianni Agnelli. From his watch worn over a cuff to his discreet nods of sprezzatura, Agnelli turned Juventus’s black-and-white into a broader philosophy of style. This section, like so many in the Quarterly, is where football meets fashion, where sport becomes culture.

And these are just beginnings. In future issues, The Legends will spotlight the figures who shaped Juventus across eras, while The Interview will publish the behind-the-scenes conversations that never made the cut.

For now, we mark our first. First issue, first collection of voices, images, and essays. Like Juventus itself, we’ll always chase the next star, the next story, the next number. But nothing rivals the first.

Here’s to the Numero Uno.

Joyce MacDonald | Editor in Chief

Masthead

Editor in Chief | Joyce MacDonald
Publisher | Agnieszka Pik
Founders - Creative Directors | Marco La Villa & Mauro La Villa

Senior Editorial Team
Senior Film Editor | Sofia Marmorstein
Senior Head of Motion Graphics | Anyelo Luna

In This Issue | No.1
Gianluigi Buffon
Gianni Agnelli
Umberto Agnelli
Michel Platini

and More.

Design & Production
Story Department | Brooklyn, NY

© Black and White Stripes LLC MMXXV. All rights reserved.
The Juve Story Quarterly is published in digital form.

Contact | info@thejuvestory.com
Website | thejuvestory.com
Instagram / YouTube | @TheJuveStory

Because gold stars are so central to ‘The Juventus Story’ (our version), we made sure to credit Umberto Agnelli for the invention. The question then was: how?

We wanted to use motion graphics to bring these moments to life—especially for figures from the past who are no longer with us. The search for material was endless, but we were relentless in finding those precious diamonds in the rough. Alongside our very talented Senior Head of Motion Graphics, Anyelo Luna, we unearthed and restored the archival images you see here.

Subscribe now

The final version in the film (and below) features polished photographs—but they didn’t just come out of the box that way. Every image and camera move was carefully designed, tested and refined. We love these archival photos and still discover something new each time we look at them. Of course, Boniperti is easy to spot beside the president, but look again. See if you can spot Omar Sivori or other familiar faces in the mix.

In this scene we hear the voice of Academy Award® winner F. Murray Abraham complementing the artful motion graphics bringing this special moment to life.

Subscribe now

“Platini’s First Season” is a scene the filmmakers can’t help but linger on: Gianni Agnelli looking every inch the patrician, Giovanni Trapattoni keeping order on the sidelines — and, at the heart of it all, Michel Platini and Liam Brady, two mythical top-players whose elegance and edge always make Juventini smile.

OWN A PIECE OF THE JUVE LEGACY - For True Juventino Collectors.
The Juventus Story Film | Deluxe Edition, Blu-Ray 3 disc set

BUY NOW

It has been 13 years since Juventus faced Parma in the first season opener in our newly built home, yet the memory of that second half remains pinpointed in time, a moment when everything changed. We return to it now not simply to mark an anniversary, but because it belongs at the very beginning of The Juve Story’s first issue, which is dedicated to “Beginnings, Firsts, and Number Ones.” No episode fits that theme more completely. September 11, 2011 was the first real test at Juventus Stadium, the baptism by Conte, and the night Juventus rediscovered itself on the path to the ever-elusive Third Gold Star.

Andrea Agnelli, still early in his presidency, had already set the tone for what was to come. In an interview with us in May 2012, he reflected on the calculation that had been made when he accepted the job. The first year, he said, was not expected to bring much visible improvement. That was acceptable. What mattered was year two. If progress did not begin to reveal itself then, the club would be very worried indeed. His appointment was an act of clear leadership by John Elkann. In entrusting his cousin Andrea with the presidency, Elkann kept the club’s stewardship both personal and professional. That duality—football and family—runs deep in Juventus. It is not only the story of the Agnelli and Elkann dynasty, but also the story of countless supporters who inherit their devotion from fathers, mothers, and grandparents. It is the balance we’ve always expressed in The Juve Story’s tagline, “It’s football, it’s family.”

The summer of 2011 brought change on multiple fronts. Luigi Delneri was replaced by Antonio Conte, a choice that surprised many but would prove essential. Giuseppe Marotta, already establishing his reputation as a transfer mastermind, delivered players who would become foundational. Andrea Pirlo arrived on a free transfer, dismissed by some as past his prime but destined to orchestrate Juve’s rebirth. Emanuele Giaccherini, diminutive and unheralded, proved himself a powerful secret weapon. And then there were the veterans: Del Piero, Buffon, Bonucci, Chiellini, and Barzagli, figures who embodied continuity in an otherwise shifting landscape. This was not yet the fully formed Juventus dynasty, but it was more than just the scaffolding of one.

The stadium itself symbolized that ambition. Built on the ruins of the Delle Alpi, it was intimate where the old ground had been cavernous. There was no running track, no void between the supporters and the field. The stands rose steeply, designed to hold the sound and channel the pressure. For Italy, this was something new: the first modern, club-owned stadium designed in the style of the great Premier League arenas. It was a venue that seemed to declare Juventus’s intent not only to compete, but to set the standard.

Subscribe now

Amongst the usual TV crews, two additional cameras were stationed behind the goals, ours. They were set to capture not only goals but the texture of the occasion: the shifting light as the sun dipped, the murmur of anticipation swelling into chants, the smell of grass cut close to the soil. For many supporters, it was the first glimpse of a stadium that truly felt like home. When Stephan Lichtsteiner scored in the 16th minute, the first competitive goal in the history of the stadium, something long dormant stirred. We would not have believed it if we had not seen it ourselves. Alessandro Del Piero and Andrea Pirlo were the first to leap on Lichtsteiner in celebration, bounding toward him like boys on a grade-school pitch. Pirlo, famously unshakable, allowed himself to grin and shout; even he could not hide the joy of the moment.

At halftime, the scoreboard showed Juventus 1, Parma 0. The supporters were satisfied with the promising start. But Antonio Conte was not. Claudio Marchisio later told us how Conte stomped into the dressing room and addressed each player in turn. According to Marchisio, the speech was stripped to its essence: just the player’s name, followed by the word “More.” Conte himself confirmed the moment in our own interview. The details differ only in emphasis, but both accounts reveal the same baptism by Conte: a refusal to tolerate contentment when domination was required.

The second half was the result of that baptism. Juventus returned to the pitch transformed. Simone Pepe doubled the lead and then sprinted toward our corner, stopping centimeters from where we stood behind the advertising boards. His scream was feral, rhythmic, four bursts in a row: “Yahhhhhh. Yahhhhhh. Yahhhhhh. Yahhhhhh.” It was less like a goal celebration and more like a German at Oktoberfest pounding the table with joy. Arturo Vidal added a third, Marchisio a fourth, and Parma’s resistance collapsed. Sebastian Giovinco’s late consolation for the visitors was a footnote. The real Juventus had emerged in those 45 minutes, fierce, physical, unapologetic.

Behind the cameras, it was a scramble to keep pace. Goals arrived in waves, and the adrenaline of trying to track every angle matched the urgency on the field. Pirlo seemed to see every movement before it happened, directing traffic with a calm that belied the frenzy around him. Buffon commanded his defense with authority, Bonucci and Chiellini shut down every opening, Barzagli added steel. Del Piero, nearing the twilight of his career, played as if he were the bridge between past and future. In that moment, the balance of continuity and change could not have been clearer.

When the final whistle sounded, the scoreboard read 4–1. Supporters poured into the Turin night with the conviction that they had witnessed a rebirth. Conte’s Juventus was not merely going to win matches. It was going to overwhelm opponents. And for us, standing behind the goals as it unfolded, there was the eerie sensation of prophecy fulfilled. I remembered that meeting years earlier with Jean-Claude Blanc, when I had said Juventus had talent but was missing that necessary, signature horsepower. In the delirium of the second half, I caught myself thinking, “Wait—are they actually running Parma over right now? The real Juve’s back. This is exactly what we’ve been praying for.” And then, “I’m not dreaming this, am I?”

Conte’s roar at halftime, Pepe’s scream into the cameras, Lichtsteiner’s goal embraced by Pirlo and Del Piero, Buffon’s command, Chiellini’s defiance, Pirlo’s artistry: these were not isolated events. They remain a timeless sequence that divided what Juventus had been from what Juventus would become. That second half stands as a fixed point in the club’s story, the moment when the demand for more—for effort, for hunger, for Juventus—ignited a run that carried the team to an undefeated Scudetto, nine consecutive league titles, and ultimately, the capture of the ever-elusive Third Gold Star.

On September 11, 2011, Juventus Stadium became more than concrete and steel. It became the place where Juventus was reborn, where family and football aligned once again, and where that second half still echoes, thirteen years later.