Suppose that some
Claudio Cecchetto film invites you to dramatize the remake of a film. Any. Which would you choose? After thanking him inexperienced, I personally would answer the odd question: BROKEN FLOWERS. Mo does not know how many of you have seen, but Broken Flowers is a film that deserves attention, not only because there is a ghostbuster. I saw months ago and I'm still thinking. Compulsive obsession? And ok, that is new?! He knows that I then take the fixed ...
Certainly not a film by pluristellata Sior Mereghetti, but its full potential. Broken Flowers is a versatile film that wants to launch a suggestion. It has no claim to originality, much less experimental film that appeals both to the various pipparoli DAMS Italian, yet it has something to say. At the end of a story is like any other. But the careful eye that suggestion could be a hidden gold mine. And much less expensive than sitting by a psychiatrist.
The story is summed up thus: a middle-aged man is left by his woman - the latest in a series - after receiving a letter in which he was informed, very astutely, that despite the measures years before he escaped a baby from one of his many former and interchangeable. The first thing the indifferent, then curious, then tickles the senses of its neighbor with a habit of convincing Sherlock Holmes Bill Murray to take a break from a life of starvation meet again for five of his old flames, and so try to understand the secrets of their soft bellies and gather information about the mysterious boy. Type divination, say. The finish leaves something to be desired; gloss over the misery of this man who drives through the U.S. looked good against going down the route 66 - because after a life of excess mo apparently decided to make a good impression with his son - and passes them on for the sake of meeting a mere curiosity, just to find out if this boy like him or not, and then forget again, that is. But the point is not that. Broken Flowers
's suggestion which I thought in recent months is: on threshold of a historic transition that is represented by a three one zero clinging to a dangerously embrace terrifying harbinger of who knows what evil has come also the time to draw some conclusions. An approximate sum, of course, but yes we see in the last fifteen years who have accompanied me, do some calculations on my passion for self harm and try to understand how I am making mo. If maybe you are healed, or whether, much easier, not worse.
I would say that Broken Flowers has an exportable formula. Who among us has not at least five skeletons in the closet? And how many of these skeletons are the curious and awkward ex-girlfriend that say a lot about ourselves? Mo
the real challenge is to choose only five. With which of the many I could have, or worse still wanted to have a baby?
The list I have compiled a bestiary is very respectable. But achtung! achtung! (I do not know how to spell it) is not a ranking. The order of the eligible candidates Paparini is random.
In the beginning was Charon, a wonderful character to which I devoted many years of my adolescence. A passionate lover of soft and hard drugs, Carone ferried me without that oppose any effort, to perdition, unless embark on his cocked hat and many other little women needed their pets. So Charon made by his agile craft a modern version of Noah's Ark: a highly diverse bandwagon that would pale the most recidivist of the Mormons. And that's how I knew the bittersweet taste of polygamy.
deeply vexed by the multiple adventures and insatiable feminine affections of Charon, among whom are former drug addicts, family tragedies and complaints of various kinds - to eighteen years I thought that the advent of age would impose me a break. And so after the hell of the middle of the road, passing through a purgatory populated by souls more or less insignificant but for companionship, it's paradise, and in fact I met the Holy One. The Holy I was accompanied by a long year in which to be fair to recognize that it is committed body and soul to rehabilitate from the harsh experience of Scugnizza - 'n ch to me - made with the previous boyfriend. I caught up with the Holy unknown heights of spiritual purity and a little body since poured into a very advanced system of prohibition. Banned soft drugs and hard liquor Dine out on coke and multivitamin juices that, to be honest, I had also helped dispose of dark circles and bacon premature. But for this very annoying habit of avoiding any a little fun, that it was lawful or not, the romance with the holy man is not lasted. Parevamo heart of the family too, who at nineteen years still has not arrived yet.
But Charon remained a nightmare, the family of Mulino Bianco instead a dream never faded away and then after the saint remained in the upper floors and I welcomed the Monk. A man is not entirely devoted to the Benedictine rule, but still very well be placed in the lap of the ora et labora. A character knows how to be monastic, but only the abbots: sociable but also accustomed to a certain rigidity in morals go, let's put it that way. Once back to give me some small pleasure therefore remains puzzled about this character by the name of the rose. The problem of the mystic and it was a big one: the asceticism is manifested in the bedroom. It is understood that in this way, my fantasies were very maternal sacrifice, and goodnight to breakfast together based saccottini. Sacrificed so that instead of sharing the bed lengthwise once we have shared for latitude and I found myself spending a night under his mattress in the company but not its colonies of mites that lived in his carpet. Faced with this absolute refusal to my person, also expressed quell'arpia of his mother, and prolungatosi among other things for several months, that I could not leave the fate of his ascetic jerking off and I turn to retaliation , next to the promises of sinful, hellish character.
Preda a devil never been so unbridled I launched it into the arms of Satan's first step I would like to pay homage to the nickname of Metal. Beautiful and expensive eh, better than expensive in reality, but also a little bitchy. A man of experience, and Panza omm and even 'is the substance' if you will, tempered in a harsh life of macaroni with the sauce, concerts, hardcore and females tattoos with decals of the chips, the young man felt very Hell's Angel. Except for clothing at that time instead placed him on the floor a little more spurious of new metal / crossover / post-punk. I clearly below him I had turned into a hybrid unsuccessful Dita Von Teese and Samantha Fox. A little lady, a little bitch, she needed a little bit, a bit tormented lover, a bit the pupa the gangster. A little of everything and above all very stupid. That is to say in practice that meet all the fantasies of this Noantri Lemmy Kilmister. Years and years of hard preparations were waiting for me, for hardening the life stage that we would certainly have expected, but at some point, by dint of waiting, the metalhead too began to rust and worry excessively. In his defense I would add that there could do nothing: there are those who draw with the red dress and bends to the right place and who was born with a pair of horns on his head rather bulky, making them indigestible to most. He could do anything to hide and become a good man, but when on the road is nothing and no one appeared Mr. Big could come between me and Prince Charming.
Amiche you know who is Mr. Big: Carrie was able to realize an X-ray course. You know this icon of virility so I will not go to praise the many manly virtues. In the face of the man the great Satan is withdrawn in the depths of his curse with all his concubines and pitted Osburn our family dream was shattered forever. And 'Just one look and in my Top of the Pops that he was not there. Mr. Big. Since then she has never left the top of the standings. Or rather hard abandoned her - why do not you ever think that I at some point is not crazy and it has not left - but His presence continues to hover there on top, a bit like the ghost of John Lennon to Paul McCartney, say. He has mapped out a path, he cibato butterflies in my stomach, she showed him the light. Po 'has turned off and is gone forever, leaving me in the company of many saints as well as swearing cocks sour gum.
But that was another life. Even Bill Murray in the end if he goes home empty-handed. A little sad but also optimistic that apparently the plunge in the past has brought in contact with his chakra.
Now I do not know what happened to these five. Carone will be drowned in a pool of ketamine, probably. The Ghost is about to realize his dream sponsored Buitoni, I know for sure because his divine nature has given him to remain friends and still love me even though it was hanging by a hermit from pea flies. The latter far as I know there may be vaporized into the air and the world needs it sorely missed. Metal has finished making the mold and pappici above or below the stage, unless you have met some fitted with manic cleaning glove and Viakal Vrin, but difficult to see because he really loved to pose as a lone wolf of the steppe. And Mr. Big? Let him in mystery, but knowing it'll be swell the annals of Beverly Hills 80100 that is consumed for packages Neapolitan running below the skirts of some female irresistible desiderado ardently to waste if you do not tear it, but already looking forward to the next and then after that and the next. Because if you call Mr. BIG there is a reason ...
Apart from small consolation to have survived the last fifteen years doing some modern version of the divine comedy, I do not know how I am. But I do not think very well because (s) the appearance of those guys in my wretched existence still does not answer some questions of high strategic value so that, for all I know, the two halves of heaven continue to look askance at badly. So yesterday I decided to answer to herself as the autistic and I started the business school exhumed a copy of a book that begins: "[is] truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good heritage should feel the need to take a wife." After the first line I was already anxious again, the divine comedy all came out less than unmarried men full of money.
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