Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Names Of Retirement Homes



At a time like ours, where the cinema is animation or real people in flesh and bone is less fanciful and magical than once, The Illusionist by Chomet, author of The Triplets of Belleville valuable, comes as an unexpected, then perhaps not so much, except, so as not to betray and disappoint with his new job, an admirable and necessary recovery of a screenplay, never forgotten made by Jacques Tati, who lives with the adjustments necessary due to the mild stroke and now out of time, as its star, French author.
Wizards do not exist, as taught by the illusion and there is no time for tricks of prestidigitation, and as prodigious as they may appear to be reassuring for those who enjoy, but Tatischeff learn with time and the slow decline of his art and those who like him playing on an appearance that is not an end in itself, or misleading, but a pleasant delight that we could give an innocence lost, that it is compared with the changing customs and events, a necessary and inevitable progress , the time to understand his own alienation from modern times, such as Monsieur Hulot, Tati's alter ego that is recalled by drawings of the author and also a cinema in which it takes refuge.
The Illusionist is a work steeped in melancholy, which one can hardly remain indifferent, because there is blackmail, but compared to an emblematic figure of the author primitive, able to represent the absurdity of modern life, hyperkinetic, in which the silence, the awkwardness of his character were a perfect ironic counterpoint to all this seeming perfection.
Chomet is respectful of this and transposes it, making her, as she had been able to do with his previous work, giving us a story out of fashion, away from the technologies empty of meaning and significance in most cases, you may recommend more adults and children, per riscoprire una magia, quella del cinema, che spesso pare perduta, imparando ad attendere la fine della storia e a guardare i silenzi di cui รจ intrisa sino alla conclusione dei titoli di coda per strapparci ancora per una volta un sorriso amaro.

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