Enjoying the launch of “a look at each day”, courtesy of Lume, I propose a revision of the films of Theo Angelopoulos, considering that most if not all are available somewhere out there (provided you have broadband to download the rarities of course).

In the early 90's it was fashionable to like Angelopoulos. Consequently, all Greek films, which caused queues when displayed in exhibitions. This happened because of the immense success of Landscape in the Mist, his best film, which was, if I remember correctly, showing for four months in Cinesesc - going at all times, that is.Now is not like fashion, which is normal. His films represent a kind of cinema that left a trail of disappointments from the past decade, burning a little art circuit with the critics, perhaps with a good deal of intolerance.

In 1995 came a look at each day, which hit theaters shortly after the 19th Mostra SP (1995), to the delight of those who yearned for new work of his own. At the time I was wrong, because I realized that he was so uncomfortable repeating, repeating all that had pleased him in Landscape in the Mist within a theme dear to the movie buff: the search for the origins of Greek cinema. But there was a film made from one to another, for how was this involution.

The 20th Mostra SP (1996), with a complete retrospective of his filmography, it was the ideal opportunity to learn more about his films, his aesthetic concerns, their influences. He was also a chance to see this movie through, The Suspended Step of the Stork, 1991, I snatched at the Cinematheque in full of old, the Pines. I left a radiant because he had discovered another masterpiece from the director, with Marcello Mastroianni and Jeanne Moreau.

The first movie I've seen shows that anticipated the partnership of The Suspended Step. It was The Beekeeper, who directed Angelopoulos in 1986 with Marcello Mastroianni speaking Greek (learned by ear, according to Angelopoulos).

In the following days I could build a mental timeline of his career, seeing all jumbled historical panels that he had performed in the 1970s: Reconstitution, 36 Days, Voyage of the Comedians, Raiders, difficult films, with the focus split between several characters, and only one of them had the status of protagonist: Greece. The only one who liked among these early films was The Voyage of the Comedians, huge panel of four hours duration which forced me to stand by the Cinematheque third film in the successful attempt to ward off sleep. It was worth it. What struck me most in this film anthology different and complicated were the moments when the collective joy was interrupted by a representative of the order.


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The cover story of “See” magazine of last week is about "murderers," guys who claim to have killed and killed. It is a disturbing matter. When you read the material, it is clear that for many of them, human life does not mean shit. They do not seem to be repentant. Even those who say they are sorry, it is clear that it is never because they took someone's life, but because they disgraced their lives when they were arrested. At all times you hear arguments cliches like "it was him or me" or "better his mother crying than mine." Most are larcenies. What drives a man to think is right to put a pipe in the face of another that he knows and even try to force him to give him the money that the other has gained through his own work? And if the guy does not want to cooperate, he needs to be killed, is that it?


There's a fine line that separates justice and social differences. I ampeaceful (most of the time - has left much in the ass and even proud of it, but I never even remotely crossed my mind the idea of taking someone's life), I respect the individuality of anyone, and so also want to respect mine. I cannot understand a man who resolves to kill me because I will not agree to be robbed. And I'm not talking about money here. I'm actually a bitch of a contempt for money. Yeah the money the root of all evil (greed, greed, possessiveness, jealousy and escambau). Me and my friend Reinaldo Moraes (who also think so - about money - not about the rest, to be clear - I do not know for sure what he thinks about it and I'm not allowed to speak in his name) were talking about this yesterday.


I work from time to time and make money. I often work and cannot gain a damn thing. But the money I make (with my work) I spend recklessly and without any problems. I drink, hit a rank, buy records and books, the movies and I'm trying to escape to Buenos Aires late this year. I have 48 years and only have a kitchenette (I bought with copyright laws). Money serves me for that. I have no intention of keeping me "treasures on earth" (do not forget that I was a seminarian). But I cannot accept the idea of a son of a bitch you think you can put a pipe in my face and take the money I earned from my work. I know a lot of people criticize me for having responded to the assault last year (and it took almost three fatal shots. I know I'm just alive by miracle and the bitch work of the doctors of the Holy House) and in fact I did not react to assault because of money. It was because of the attitude.

 

I'm not crazy enough to react just to show that I am badass (I'm not!) Or to preserve my fucking money. I responded because I was insulted in my freedom to be drinking in a bar (and paying for my drink) with my friends. I reacted because I beat my friends and also because I was physically assaulted. The guy hit me a bitch butt. It has a piece in the middle of my head where hair does not grow more. It was not the money. Take my fucking money and leave me alone. I'll publish a graphic with all the murders gone wrong as soon as I convert the pdf to excel.


But reading the testimony of the guys in "Look," I was with a certain sickness. They actually (mostly) think they are within their rights. The right to put a muzzle on your face and steal. And even if you do not react if they find them still goes right to put a bullet in your face just for sadism, because they think that society was more generous with you than with them. It's a heavy matter. Fuck you for all statistics. Just look at the testimony of the guys, if you have the stomach. It is very sad, especially for those who want to write about human beings. And they are human beings too, dammit. With heart, feeling, reasoning, reasoning power, intelligence and the whole package. So what happens? Where does all this coldness, hatred and contempt? I still want to write much about it. I'm not here defending the death penalty for revenge (I do not have it - do not wish harm to anyone, even for those who shot me and I do not think a great guy because of that - just my way, as my friend would say Giza - I have to be born again to be otherwise and thinking that looks good, I even was born, right?), not a damn thing that those waterfalls and sensational rag bloody popular tone and journalists want to sell. They fuck them too. It's all very confusing.


When we were kids, I was easy to play cops and robbers and decide just what was the right way, the good side, the side that was worth getting. Today is not so simple. It is very sad the other side of the same coin. It's just this weird feeling of knowing that his side are people who really do want the evil free. People who even know you. There are people who write for this blog and say I should have died, three were little bullets, etc (you do not have the slightest idea what kind of shit that I get here - so I check the comments) and it is clear that I delete such comments. I will not give ammunition to any son of a bitch. It's sad that for many people to human life does not mean shit. It's pretty bad to sleep with that feeling every night. So have a good night, if they can. But do not forget to look both ways crossing the street when they resolve.