Tarantino advised me that these two films have enjoyed a total, I said.
I said that this year, for the nihilistic cinema, seems to be a golden age, and as expected, I got slingshots well Monday night. Then the shaking
to review what interests me most, translating to my surroundings and enriching the music with elegance, sometimes that requires effort, which basically I write only when I turn the cock.
said that we talk about cinema, then Frozen River, a tiny little filmettino flowing away like snow in the sun. What is known mainly
are certain landscapes that recall the Coens, and the fucking camera in hand that make all the movies lately.
But after a few moments, what is most striking is that eventually there becomes even more appropriate, and only then you realize that it has also won the Jury Prize at the Sundance Festival -> (sentimental sentence granted but for this more true of all the shit that I hear around) -> "because when two people so far apart in culture and origin, was born a relationship of solidarity so intense, every premium is due." If
chi legge capisse questo, nient’altro avrebbe senso nella vita (né Stato, né Chiesa, né Padania). Figurarsi le classificazioni in musica.
Datemi una birra, in cambio, ecco la trama nichilista:
“La protagonista Ray Eddy, due figli a carico, è stata abbandonata dal marito che ha sperperato al gioco tutti i soldi con i quali la donna pensava di potersi comprare una casetta prefabbricata. Per sbarcare il lunario, la donna aiuta i lavoratori clandestini, cinesi e pachistani, a entrare illegalmente dal Canada negli Stati Uniti, attraverso il fiume congelato St. Lawrence. Al suo fianco Lila Littlewolf, una giovane nativa Mohawk, la quale, da quando le è stato sottratto il figlio, si è chiusa in un disperato e silenzioso dolore. Nel deserto bianco di una distesa di ghiaccio arida e incolore, le due donne, vincendo un'iniziale ovvia diffidenza, finiranno per unire i loro destini, vedranno crescere la loro tacita intesa, e l'illusione di poter dare un futuro migliore ai loro figli”.
Ed ora Riff di Sweet child o’mine a mille, boato fragoroso, folla festante (uàààààààààhhhhhhhhh), esplosione di luci ed entrata trionfale di Randyyyyyyyy…The Ram"…Robinsonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.
Per chi come me non si discosta un attimo dalle Glorie che lo hanno accompagnato until now (I am speaking of several giants that will continue to the withdrawal from the scene but now I do not have the fucking list), a film that left me in plaster like when I saw for the first time "the Hunter" or when by chance a fall on a snowboard, a few months ago, I broke my right wrist. eheheh.
Fuck that evil which is growing old to see Mickey in the film and feel that, as in life is a man down (but still beautiful). Just as I hope to keep.
"In the late 80s, the professional wrestler Randy" The Ram "Robinson was at the height of his career. Today pulls out performing for fans of wrestling in high school gyms and community of New Jersey. Departed by his daughter, unable to sustain a real relationship, Randy lives for the thrill of the show, the adrenalin of combat and the adoration of the few fans that remained.
And that's it.
A film that I have the impression that he has been a great event. A film that will declare to my son that he saw at the cinema when it came out. A film that does not make me regret the absence this year of jammin festival (venetian shit). As always, we are a shameful nation, without even an event blasco decade, inevitably slumps.
say there's a crisis, then I call a guy who wants 130 € per un biglietto degli AC/DC. Maledetti bagarini, verrete polverizzati da una fiammata di Rock psichedelico e mentre vi allontanerete con la chitarra di Angus Young infilata in culo, un vostro collega napoletano vi sottrarrà le banconote di mano. E pensare che persino a Budapest o in Slovenia organizzano dei festival coi controcazzi senza rincarare minimamente la dose da un anno all’altro. Ad ogni modo, continuate a votare Antonio e soccombete allegramente.
A proposito di algerini, colgo l’occasione per precisare che non parteciperò a nessuna festa del cazzo in cui mi si chiedono 3 € via sms, alle 7:30 di mattina.
che poi per cosa? per bere della merdosissima birra del discount calda come il piscio e parlare sempre the same thing with exactly the same people.
wow. I'm honored.
Waking up to fifteen minutes ahead of schedule for a crap like that, in addition to abbestia me angry, makes me deeply unstable against you.
Therefore, being lucky enough to live in Ferrara, who play for free beer groups equally shitty but at least you serve it fresh, decline the invitation. Ok
other nihilistic plot and a piece of the Boss, written especially for supporters of all faithful Rourke outsider, like me:
Have you ever seen a one trick pony in a field so happy and free?
If you've ever seen then you've seen me
Have you ever seen a dog with one leg walking down the street?
If you've ever seen then you've seen me
Then you've seen me, I come and stand at every door
Then you've seen me, what goes away with something less than when he arrived
Then you seen me, bet I can make you smile when the blood hits the floor
Tell me, friend, you can ask for anything more?
Tell me can you ask for anything more?
Have you ever seen a scarecrow filled with nothing but dust and hay?
If you've ever seen that scarecrow then you've seen me
Have you ever seen a man with one arm punching the air?
If you've ever seen with one arm then you've seen me
Then you've seen me, I come and stand at every door
Then you've seen me, what goes away with something less than before
Then you've seen me, you bet I can make you smile when the blood hits the floor
Tell me, friend, you can ask for anything more?
Tell me can you ask for anything more?
I walk away from things that have brought me comfort
I can not stay in the place that I consider my home
My only faith lies in broken bones and bruises that monster
Have you ever seen a man with one leg trying to dance to
find his freedom?
If you saw this man with one leg allora hai visto me
che poi non è così distante da quest'altro capolavoro:
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