Having fallen hopelessly in love with El Biografo I decided I had to go back and see something else, there, even if that something else was, to judge by its publicity poster, the kind of twaddle I can't abide. I'd read and heard enough about Le Concert in France to reach the conclusion that I'd rather lick a lavatory seat clean than sit through a factually inaccurate, shallow, manipulative portrayal of miscarriages of justice under communism. However, you don't stumble across a cinema like this one every day so you try to keep your unfounded prejudices under control, pluck the CLP$2000 (about €3) out of your pocket and select the aisle seat of your choice.
You know what? I loved it. The set-piece comedy moments were well done, the dénouement not quite what I was expecting (but then again, I'm an ultra-gullible viewer, never wanting to second-guess what's coming up but choosing to let it unfold in front of my eyes). The cleverest part, to my mind, was the effortless flip to serious at the end after so much slapstick. I didn't care for the ha-ha bits like the director spontaneously kissing his gopher or the tacky 'bravo' shouted by the ultra-demanding critic but the ultimate realisation that the girl was the daughter of two of his friends sent to basically die in Siberia ensured that the old waterworks started up. I wept more than the odd tear; the last time that happened was when I saw Stuart Little in Paris about eleven years ago.Funny how the kind of films I don't like are the ones that end up making me cry. Hmm...
Tuesday, 31 May 2011
Monday, 30 May 2011
El Biografo and more...
Here are a few (more) pics from Santiago, in case you're interested:
El Biografo, the cinema:
Lastarria (my street):
Another café on Lastarria:
There's no-one about as it was still early; nothing much happens here before 10am, unless you're in the business district.
OK, now I really am going to bed.
El Biografo, the cinema:
Lastarria (my street):
Another café on Lastarria:
There's no-one about as it was still early; nothing much happens here before 10am, unless you're in the business district.
OK, now I really am going to bed.
Good, fun film...
...even if it wasn't the one I thought it was. It was actually "You are going to meet a tall, dark stranger" and not Midnight in Paris or whatever the Carla Bruni vehicle is called.
El Biografo has something of the Cinema Paradiso about it: the nice old man who sells you your ticket will then show you to your seat, run upstairs and set the film off then run back downstairs and show the remaining latecomers to their places. It's a little room with about 150 comfortable, deep, red plush seats. A ticket to this little corner of paradise will set you back the equivalent of €3 Monday to Wednesday or €4 Thursday to Sunday. I hope they change the programme soon as I'd love to go back before heading home.
Walking out of the cinema, I'd completely forgotten where I was. The film was in English with Spanish subtitles, but seeing as the last film I saw in Toulouse was in Spanish with French subtitles (El hombre de al lado, if you're interested; 'The Man Next Door', a superb Argentinian film) the notion of the language(s) in front of you is not necessarily an infallible guide to your current location. It was only as I stepped out onto Lastarria and saw the tarot dealers and strange-looking dog coat salesmen (yes) that I remembered I was in Santiago. The fact the film was set in London played a part too, I'm sure.
So that's my first week finished in the southern hemisphere. I'm still amazed by all the British names attached not only to the country's political life but also its history. I still need to look into this, but there was a very important man called Bernardo O'Higgins (you couldn't make it up). He was, apparently, the saviour and liberator of Chile but is now a rather long avenue running east to west through this city of 6.5 million souls. Notable contemporary politicians and writers include an Edwards, a Hargreaves, a Walker, a Golborne (previously Holborne, I'd imagine). There are others, but they escape me. Needless to say, there's a good smattering of German names including a leading Minister called Ena Von Baer. Look her up on Wikipedia; her case can't be that much different from many others in this country. German names abound in the rest of the city: architects, chemists, leading businessmen etc. I wish I had another six months to really research this place but if all goes well I should be back next year, when I'll be able to combine my love of things Germanic and Hispanic, contradictory as this combination may sound. Maybe this duality unknowingly underpins my love of Argentina, too; a country I know little about but which exercises an immense fascination over me.
Bedtime.
El Biografo has something of the Cinema Paradiso about it: the nice old man who sells you your ticket will then show you to your seat, run upstairs and set the film off then run back downstairs and show the remaining latecomers to their places. It's a little room with about 150 comfortable, deep, red plush seats. A ticket to this little corner of paradise will set you back the equivalent of €3 Monday to Wednesday or €4 Thursday to Sunday. I hope they change the programme soon as I'd love to go back before heading home.
Walking out of the cinema, I'd completely forgotten where I was. The film was in English with Spanish subtitles, but seeing as the last film I saw in Toulouse was in Spanish with French subtitles (El hombre de al lado, if you're interested; 'The Man Next Door', a superb Argentinian film) the notion of the language(s) in front of you is not necessarily an infallible guide to your current location. It was only as I stepped out onto Lastarria and saw the tarot dealers and strange-looking dog coat salesmen (yes) that I remembered I was in Santiago. The fact the film was set in London played a part too, I'm sure.
So that's my first week finished in the southern hemisphere. I'm still amazed by all the British names attached not only to the country's political life but also its history. I still need to look into this, but there was a very important man called Bernardo O'Higgins (you couldn't make it up). He was, apparently, the saviour and liberator of Chile but is now a rather long avenue running east to west through this city of 6.5 million souls. Notable contemporary politicians and writers include an Edwards, a Hargreaves, a Walker, a Golborne (previously Holborne, I'd imagine). There are others, but they escape me. Needless to say, there's a good smattering of German names including a leading Minister called Ena Von Baer. Look her up on Wikipedia; her case can't be that much different from many others in this country. German names abound in the rest of the city: architects, chemists, leading businessmen etc. I wish I had another six months to really research this place but if all goes well I should be back next year, when I'll be able to combine my love of things Germanic and Hispanic, contradictory as this combination may sound. Maybe this duality unknowingly underpins my love of Argentina, too; a country I know little about but which exercises an immense fascination over me.
Bedtime.
Sunday, 29 May 2011
Woody Allen in Spanish. Or maybe not.
We've got a local bohemian-type cinema in Lastarria called El Biografo which shows art house films. Not wishing to not support such an establishment I popped in on my way back from the Cerro Santa Lucia and bought a ticket for Woody Allen's Encontrarás al hombre du tus sueños or 'You will meet a tall, dark stranger' to you and me. I don't know if it's going to be dubbed or in English with subtitles but I don't really mind either way. The charming little old man at the box office reminded me I needed to reserve my seat: they have what is basically a pinboard plan of the seating with a piece of rolled-up paper with the seat number on every nail. I might not have got an aisle seat with Iberia from Madrid to Santiago but I got one, here, at El Biografo. The film also features France's First (Pregnant) Lady as well as a collection of people who can actually act, so it should be pretty enjoyable.
This is the first time I've been away from home when I've actually used Skype, and what a boon it is, too. It's also the first time I've taken my computer and have had Wi-Fi in my abode and, quite frankly, I never want to leave under any other conditions, again. Being able to see and speak to the family has been worth its weight in gold. Montaigne's observation that 'A man on his own is in bad company' will never go out of style and I find that having Mrs. F and the Fingernails just a couple of mouse clicks away is the most valuable addition to my suitcase I could possibly imagine. Long may Skype last and long may it remain free.
Hasta luego...
This is the first time I've been away from home when I've actually used Skype, and what a boon it is, too. It's also the first time I've taken my computer and have had Wi-Fi in my abode and, quite frankly, I never want to leave under any other conditions, again. Being able to see and speak to the family has been worth its weight in gold. Montaigne's observation that 'A man on his own is in bad company' will never go out of style and I find that having Mrs. F and the Fingernails just a couple of mouse clicks away is the most valuable addition to my suitcase I could possibly imagine. Long may Skype last and long may it remain free.
Hasta luego...
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