Peter Greenaway’s assisted-dying drama mired in post-production delays

NEW YORK, 9 OCTOBER 2026 —

Peter Greenaway’s Lucca Mortis—A €15 Million Post-Production Battle Over Death, Rights, and a Stalled Swansong

The project, once billed as a swansong for both men in their 80s, has devolved into a post-production nightmare, with two competing versions, unresolved legal tensions, and a local community left in limbo.

The film’s origins trace back to Greenaway’s own fascination with mortality, a theme he had long avoided in favor of his signature explorations of Eros—sex, art, and decadence. But Lucca Mortis, as it was initially titled, was meant to confront Thanatos—death. Greenaway, who had spent decades crafting visually extravagant, intellectually dense films, framed the project as a meditation on assisted dying, euthanasia, and the philosophical absurdity of death itself.

“Is death necessary?” he asked during a 2023 Q&A at the International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam (IDFA), where he received a lifetime achievement award. “The popular media is absolutely covered now in considerations about assisted death.

I believe we must take death more seriously.” The film was not, he insisted, a horror piece but a drama about a New York writer, Jacob Zucchine (Hoffman), who returns to Lucca to confront his mortality after 9/11, haunted by the city’s towering structures and his own fading life.

Yet from the outset, Lucca Mortis faced challenges that would prove insurmountable. In late 2023, Greenaway and his crew arrived in Lucca with trucks of equipment and sets already constructed, only to wait for weeks—then months—before Hoffman and the rest of the cast materialized. The delay, sources close to the production later revealed, stemmed from cashflow issues, a common but crippling problem for independently financed films.

When shooting finally began in early 2024, the production scaled to €15 million (£12 million), with 25 locations across Lucca. The city embraced the project with open arms, its historic center transformed into an open-air set, locals acting as extras, and the Tuscan press comparing the atmosphere to Federico Fellini’s cinematic carnival. But the euphoria was short-lived.

Constant delays—financial, logistical, and creative—eroded the budget and morale, leaving the production in disarray by the time filming wrapped over two years ago.

The real crisis emerged during post-production. Greenaway’s contract, according to sources, granted him final cut authority. However, producers at Facing East—whose credits include Better Man (Robbie Williams’ biopic) and In the Land of Saints and Sinners (Liam Neeson)—allegedly intervened, arguing that the film’s budget overruns justified a more “commercial” edit without the director’s involvement.

The result is two distinct versions: Greenaway’s original cut, reportedly warmly received by early viewers, and the producers’ version, which is said to be more advanced but lacks the director’s signature vision. Neither version is fully completed, and the rights to the film remain in legal limbo, with no clear path to release.

The fallout has extended beyond the production team. The city of Lucca, which had invested significant time and resources into the project—including hosting a sneak preview that left officials impressed—has been left in the dark. “We’re disappointed because, as a municipality, we’ve spent time and energy making this film,” said Remo Santini, a Lucca councillor. “We even had a sneak preview months ago, and it really made a great impression on us.

Yet, despite filming having wrapped over two years ago, all is quiet. Unfortunately, this stalemate isn’t our fault.” The city has made repeated requests for updates, but neither Greenaway nor the producers have responded.

The title itself has become a point of contention. Originally Lucca Mortis, the film was rebranded Tower Stories after local officials expressed discomfort with the association to death.

Yet those who have seen both versions describe them as fundamentally similar, adhering to Greenaway’s dense, digressive style, which draws on Ludwig Wittgenstein’s observation that “death is not an event in life; we do not live to experience death.” The film’s visual splendor—lush sets, operatic set-pieces, and a rich musical score—has been praised, as has Hoffman’s performance, which some compare to Greenaway’s own introspective character.

“It’s a great legacy for Greenaway and not only for him, but for Dustin—an incredible performance,” said a frustrated crew member. “This movie needs to be finished and released.”

The dispute over rights ownership is the most contentious issue. Facing East, the production company, has not responded to requests for comment, leaving the fate of the film unclear. Legal battles over creative control are common in Hollywood, but this case is unique in its scale and duration.

Greenaway, who has spent decades as an uncompromising auteur, has reportedly refused to cede final authority, while producers argue that the film’s financial viability depends on a more marketable edit. The irony is that the city of Lucca, which once celebrated the project, now finds itself excluded from the process entirely.

For Greenaway, Lucca Mortis was meant to be his final statement—a film that would cement his legacy as much for its philosophical depth as for its technical brilliance. But the project’s collapse into legal and creative infighting risks erasing it entirely. Hoffman, who had long been a collaborator with Greenaway, has not publicly commented on the situation, though his absence from recent interviews suggests his own disillusionment.

The film’s fate now rests on whether Greenaway can secure the resources to push forward with his vision, or whether the producers will prevail in their push for a more commercially viable version.

Regardless of the outcome, the case of Lucca Mortis serves as a cautionary tale about the fragility of independent filmmaking, the dangers of unchecked creative egos, and the high cost of artistic integrity when faced with financial realities. For now, the film remains trapped in post-production limbo, its release date uncertain, and its legacy in jeopardy. The question—whether death is necessary—may soon extend to the film itself.