After a year suffering from a drought of quality especially regrettable in American cinema ( ors also, although Spanish has donated some joys in recent months), crowded with salable and routine superheroes, appalling effects Specials exercising absolute protagonism, noise and fury of cardboard, endless galactic wars, which want to exert opiates for spectators to abandon occasionally television series (and I have feeling that it is finiquitando its Golden Age, that everything is accompanied by pretensions has replaced those jewels that wore signature of HBO) to go to dark room and big screen, I had hoped that Hollywood would have kept its delicacies for end, that masterpieces They would appear with selection for Oscars.More information
- "It's hard to find more than four cool movies a year"
Anor illusion that fades. So far I have not encountered in last few weeks with any American film in a state of grace, failing to see what Spielberg has done with Pentagon Papers.
The enthusiastic opinions were unanimous before three advertisements on outskirts. And y've also blessed her with I don't know how many Golden Globes. The background of his screenwriter and director Martin McDonagh were exciting. Hidden in Bruges is a very original thriller, Tragicomic, starring two hired killers who paradoxically are endowed with humanity, pathos and vulnerability, with situations and characters that touch surrealism, in midst of a city so Haunting and ghostly as witches.
Martin McDonagh maintains his vocation as an unusual author in three advertisements on outskirts. The people of deep America in which it develops, atmosphere, characters and tone inevitably remind of Fargo, that splendid invention of Coen brors. Here, it narrates odyssey of a woman vindicating, understandably relentless and vindictive to find perpetrator of rape and murder of her daughter, obsessed by her certainty that authorities do not do everything possible (or impossible) to solve macabre Case. It is guiding thread to portray that paletted universe with its own codes to which it makes very nervous harassment to which it submits that tireless and fierce mor courage. The panorama seems exclusively torn and tragic, but director also Introce alleged comic, Sorna, surreal humour. The mixture works at times and in ors I find it loading (y are as lazy as unbelievable ex-husband of protagonist and his girlfriend teenager) and occasionally I get annoying feeling that director is determined to show you in every sequence how ready it is And complexity that has introduced in its history, that this is twisted in its outcome to surprise you with conclusion that those characters who have described as villains can hide a heart of gold, that apparent blackness is crammed with nuances, which Nothing is what seemed for unappealable reason that dictates his whim or his genitals, that finding murderer is a vulgarity unworthy of work of art he has built. Something like this has happened to Me with also attractive Molly Game, in which Aaron Sorkin and his permanent verbal submachine gun continually try to show you that his personality and intelligence are brilliant without interruption. What mania or, deep down, what insecurity. The directors that I like do not brag, do not need to throw roll in stories y narrate.
And Frances McDormand, actress model, is perfect in its rocky and rough role. And sheriff's letters are very tender. And you don't lose your attention in this pretentious and playful film. But I'm not fascinated. By many Oscars that you can bestow.