Arvostelut (1)
Sometimes, as written by an Italian poet-director, it is "necessary to be insane in order to be clear" (Pasolini, “Gramsci's Ashes”), and in this eclipse, going hand in hand with clarity, twilight and light illuminate for us the black and white of film, whose sovereign aesthetics liberate people from the nocturnal dictatorship of both politics and logocentrism. In a world where speech is finally revealed as sporadic absurdity, throwing a helpless smirk at the freedom of voluntary aphasic film, personified by the aimless movement of the protagonist, the viewer cannot help but feel sorry that from the beginning, we know that we are only following a construct, which reminds us that the fall of Franco was just a dream during the filming, into which we have fallen, and the fall of our remaining conventional bourgeois reality is still out of reach today. The film is irreducible to its relatives, with which it is equal: the surrealist unveiling of striking unattractiveness of the bourgeoisie and specters of freedom á la Buñuel, the absurdity of lost communication á la Beckett, "eclipsed" wandering through existential wasteland á la Antonioni, and last but not least, at times a prelude to Pythonesque surrealist sketch comedy.
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