The mullet comes back every three years with a press release. In Rome it never left. It's in the changing rooms, on the scooters, on whoever walks in after the match and whoever works nights.
Elia cuts it like an object: weight in the back, air in the front, no film quote. Ask for “the Eighties” and he'll send you around the block.
It isn't dead because it was never fashion. It was a way to keep two lives on the same head.