Lately, in deference to the rule that states ever come across in the choices of his companion, I went to see two films chosen by her.
the first, in the solitude of prime numbers, then maybe I talk about it again (if so far I have not done is because I did not own much to say). The second one do some mention here.
I leave the room with a bitter taste. But how? One such idea is "beautiful" in a season caratterizzata dal dolore (Avetrana, ma anche l'Afghanistan con il suo tragico inventario di caduti) da far decollare i botteghini.
Esco con l'amaro in bocca perchè c'è qualcosa nel film che non mi ha convinto del tutto. Degna di nota la recitazione dei due protagonisti, la Neri e Bentivoglio, accurata la regia, “splendida come al solito la fotografia” (sopratutto nelle sequenze finali ambientate nella Romagna carica di nebbia).
Nebbia, ecco. La storia sembra perdersi, e chiude si, con un afflato quasi poetico ma non basta a dissipare quel senso di chiusura affrettata, di “vicolo cieco” della narrazione. Eppure, come detto, gli ingredienti ci sono tutti: il racconto dell'avvento della subdola disease (the Alzheimer) and the mind fuck you slowly, taking away the memories, disrupted like crazy which is given carte blanche in the Alexandria Library in Rome.
Instead, the story unfolds at times very lingering, full of pathos to develop the disease in the head of a successful sports journalist. He said the role of his companion. Couple without children, to open own admission, at some point in the film, take the role of mother, and the therapy of (trouble hearing by the director himself during an interview "in order" dished up by some television network and which I listened) that replaces a social vacuum (just crawled) offset by means of a certain wealthy bourgeois family, with a villa on the Primary and relatives do not know which hospital.
I mean. Want to make a film (in a sense, making use of public money, Rai Cinema) on a disease like this, stuff to make one complaint. Do not limit yourself to being a poet, give us inside. I am not a director, I will not place me in the morning, as did the young Spilberg, with a banquet in Cinecittà written on Cletus Production, director (he later became). But why ruin such an idea? The film slips badly in the final. I say no more to not spoil the taste of the vision to those who want to "go and see," like a poker hand.
Skilled in flashback, iconographic details in rebuilding the protagonist's adolescence, in that the province of Romagna, the film stands for "job", but shortness of breath. Very short. Both
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