The Case 880

Mr. 880 is a 1950 American film directed by Edmund Goulding and starring Burt Lancaster (Detective Steve Buchanan), Dorothy McGuire (UN worker Ann Winslow), Edmund Gwenn ("Skipper" Miller, the counterfeiter), and Millard Mitchell ("Mac" McIntire, the other detective), among others.

It is classified under the comedy and crime genres. And rightly so, as it is a tragicomic event. "Case 880" refers to the "File 880" where his case was housed during the investigation. The film is shot in black and white.

The film's synopsis revolves around a counterfeiter who for many years—for 10 years—evades the investigators pursuing him, until an investigative office assigns the case to an agent skilled in tracking and catching counterfeiters. The level of counterfeiting is rudimentary and crude, but it succeeds because he only counterfeits small bills in tiny amounts, and the counterfeiter turns out to be an elderly man who barely scrapes by.

The film begins by discussing the U.S. Secret Service, as this service is responsible for protecting the president and catching counterfeiters.

It must be kept in mind that it is set in the 1950s, right in the middle of the Cold War, and occasionally, very subtly, this makes itself indirectly felt.

The script is interesting; right from the beginning, you know who the good guy is, who the bad guy is, and what the bad guy is doing. They even cross paths, yet it is so well-constructed that it entertains and generates the necessary intrigue to see when he makes a mistake or when he gets discovered.

Regarding awards, the script was nominated for an Edgar Award (Edgar Allan Poe Awards) for Best Mystery Screenplay (Robert Riskin). The film was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor (Edmund Gwenn), and it won the Golden Globe Award for Best Supporting Actor – Motion Picture (Edmund Gwenn).

The film is based on the true story of Emerich Juettner, known by the alias Edward Mueller, an elderly man who counterfeited just enough money to survive and was careful about where and when he passed his fake dollar bills, allowing him to evade authorities for ten years despite the poor quality of his counterfeits and the growing interest in his case.

The film is based on an article by St. Clair McKelway that was first published in The New Yorker and later collected in McKelway's book True Tales from the Annals of Crime and Rascality.

In real life, Juettner was captured and arrested in 1948, and served four months of the one-year prison sentence he received. He also had to pay a fine of, paradoxically, one dollar. When 20th Century Fox filmed Mr. 880, Juettner made more money from the movie than he had made in his entire counterfeiting career.http://www.nysun.com/on-the-town/little-old-moneymaker/9282/

An interesting passage occurs when the detective discovers the counterfeiter and confronts him, and the counterfeiter replies by telling him that with what he counterfeited, he saved the State half of what the State would have spent on him if he had instead chosen to collect a pension. Sensational.

A film that does not disappoint and is great for a good time.

Links to the database entries on IMDB and FilmAffinity:

http://www.filmaffinity.com/es/film898041.html

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0042742/ 

The Hussar

The Hussar – Arturo Pérez-Reverte. Walking through a used and new book fair, I once found this copy, and the graphic on the cover caught my attention. Of course, the image attracted me because of how striking it is, clearly military, combined with the name "The Hussar", it seemed to me that it could turn out to be an interesting book. I picked it up, saw its author, of whom I had already read a book and liked it, read its back cover, and decided to buy it. At first, I thought the image was a painting, some well-known work of art from which a section had been taken; that wasn't the case, it is an image taken from an image stock, Gordon Press / Roger Viollet (Cover image). The edition I acquired is by Editorial Alfaguara, whose webpage is http://www.alfaguara.com/ 2005 edition. It is a revised edition by the author, since, as he himself starts with, he didn't get along very well with the previous publisher and it took him 20 years to get the rights back. The novel is written by Arturo Pérez-Reverte http://www.perezreverte.com It is this author's first novel, written in 1983. I really liked it a lot; it has a simple and plain language, but rich in vocabulary. The novel is short and reads quickly. The descriptions he makes of the places, the situations—most of them common situations—the combat scenes, the march, and the panorama of the battlefield, "of the terrain", are very well achieved, at least for being a fictional battle; it seemed to me that it suits the reader's pleasure (or displeasure), that is, it fulfills its purpose.

The plot revolves around a 19-year-old French hussar officer who arrives with ideas of grandeur and glory, but without any experience in war. It is set during some point in Napoleon's invasion of Spain, where the French army fights against peasants and guerrillas. The story takes place from the time the young officer arrives until he finally enters combat and discovers what war truly means: horror and suffering.

Personally, I liked this first narration much more than the one he does in "The Shadow of the Eagle", but I reckon those are just tastes and opinions. If I have to recommend this author, I primarily recommend this text and not the other one. I also have two more titles pending, recommended and which catch my attention, which are "The Club Dumas" and "The Flanders Panel".

Below I will transcribe an excerpt that caught my attention and seemed interesting to me, and it says: "He looked at De Bourmont's horse, which was drinking alongside his own, wading into the stream's current up to its hocks. It had a superb build, dapple grey with a long mane and trimmed tail, without the spots on its hindquarters spoiling its appearance. The saddle trimmed with leopard skin was of singular beauty; Hungarian, like almost all the hussars' equipment: saddle, boots, uniforms... Even the term húsar came from that country. Someone had once told Frederic that it came from the words husz, which meant one hundred, and ar, rent. Centuries ago, every landowner in Hungary had the obligation to provide his lord with an equipped man and a horse for war for every hundred inhabitants of his fief. That had been the origin of the legendary light cavalry whose style and traditions had been adopted by the armies of almost every country in Europe." (p. 105)

 

Centro Cultural Recoleta

Saturday afternoon, along with my wife, we visited the Centro Cultural Recoleta. We entered by climbing the staircase located near Pueyrredón Ave., meaning we did the tour in reverse, yet we didn't miss any of the exhibited displays.

There weren't many people walking around; along with us, a couple of tourists who looked like foreigners entered, taking photos of literally everything—even the doors—and there were barely three or four other people walking around.

The first photo corresponds to a common pigeon (Columba livia domestica), one of the many in the city, resting on the head of one of the statues that decorate the Cultural Center.

The afternoon was somewhat cloudy, not overly so, and a light breeze blew that at times picked up strength and then returned to the tranquility of barely moving the air.

We walked in and came across a room, Room 10, where a bunch of wood pieces were arranged in what seemed to form a ring; you entered, and the door opened directly onto one side of the artwork. When walking toward one of the ends, you could see it from another perspective, and what appeared there was a sort of tunnel made of wood.

The artwork, titled "Giro Triangular" (Triangular Twist), belongs to the artist Luis Terán. He discusses it himself in a 5-minute video published at http://vimeo.com/114990985 where he begins by saying: "The sculpture 'Giro Triangular' is a large-scale sculpture that takes the dimensions of the room and occupies almost its maximum size."

In a contemporary art magazine called “El gran otro”, they published an article featuring an interview with artist Luis Terán. It was titled “Monumento a la basura” (Monument to Garbage) and was authored by Hernán Ruiz. You can read it at this link: http://elgranotro.com.ar/index.php/monumento-a-la-basura/. The interview was conducted before the exhibition at the Centro Cultural Recoleta took place, but even back then he referred to the piece as: "Now I am going to make this piece—but in a more giant size—on November 15th at the Centro Cultural Recoleta, as part of a tour of some pieces from the Venice Biennale with a local guest, which in this case is me. I am going to assemble this piece which takes over 1,200 meters of wood, involving teamwork that I really enjoy. These pieces are like a kind of constructive challenge."

The exhibition in Room 10 opened on November 13 and closes on February 8 of the current year.

In the next photograph, you can see what was indicated on the room's wall, which reads: "Giro Triangular. The creation of Luis Terán introduces us into a game of lines, points, angles, and more angles. A playful experience that refers to a geometric world, a structure under construction.

Like a star in motion, the sequence of equilateral triangles revolving around the same axis induces us into a fantasy of lights and shadows that intermingle as one walks through the room where the artwork—unable to be viewed from a distance to take it in as a whole—forces us to rethink the always tense relationships between space, matter, and voids.

The framing of our gaze and the sensation of something that exceeds us lead us to experience the part for the whole, to go from the particular to the general, according to the place we choose to occupy. The artwork is a single figure and at the same time several figures that advance and retreat, like a progressive perspective flight, full of depth and volume.

With Giro Triangular, Terán captivates us with a whirlwind built from simple materials such as wood and wire, of light, of air, which together form a constantly expanding matrix.

Curator: Gabriela Urtiaga.Curatorial assistance: Belén Bauzá.”

What struck me when reading the text was that what was written seemed much more interesting than the artwork itself; you read that and it feels like stepping into a science fiction story, but then you observe the piece and it doesn't seem to match—at least to me, it was only fun for taking pictures.

Then we continued our tour and moved on to another room, Room 4. Here there was a photographic exhibition. It had opened on December 10 and closes on February 8 of the current year. The exhibition is titled “El amante de Buenos Aires” (The Lover of Buenos Aires) and the author is Claudio Larrea.

The author's webpage is http://www.claudiolarrea.com/

Regarding the exhibition, the CCR website states: "The exhibition is a photographic record of the city of Buenos Aires through the eyes of a lover who forgives imperfection and highlights harmony. Aboard an old bicycle, the lover travels the paths of a city he remembers as beautiful and continues to love." And it adds: "In early 2010, upon returning to Buenos Aires, he began conducting a photographic survey of the city in a project called 'El Amante de Buenos Aires'."

The photographs are mostly—I would say all of them—related to constructions, buildings, mostly architecture. It didn't strike me as groundbreaking, but it was pleasant to view and quite interesting. Some of them show views that most inhabitants do not have the chance to see, or perhaps we will never get to see them, yet we enjoy them through the photograph taken by this author. Many are of common places, but their colors, lines, and perspectives made them different.

The exhibition was accompanied by an introductory text titled “Del amor y la fugacidad” (Of Love and Transience) written by Eduardo Villar. He introduces it like this: "That's how lovers are; they see beauty where others see flaws or decrepitude," and later adds: "Larrea goes out almost daily on his bicycle to wander the streets."

What follows caught my attention: in the presentation of the exhibition, Villar writes: "But above all, he brings his gaze. It is that gaze which allows him to see what is in plain sight for everyone, but which no one sees until his photos reveal it. A swan on a staircase, a lighthouse between two party walls, Larrea's photos always reveal something new in emblematic buildings, some monumental, architectural icons of a certain moment in Buenos Aires, extraordinary domes, imposing structures, grand banks and libraries. But also plebeian buildings and lobbies lost in any neighborhood."

Now looking online, I see that many of the photographs the author exhibited as “El amante de Buenos Aires” were previously used in other exhibitions. For example, in an exhibition called “Lobbies de Buenos Aires” (which records lobbies of Buenos Aires from the 1930s to the 1950s) there were photos that are included in this CCR exhibition. Here is the link: http://www.galeriaartexarte.com/expo68.html.

Also, a year ago, an article titled “Claudio Larrea: el fotógrafo 'flaneur'” written by Martin Volman, reports on an exhibition called “Arquitectura peronista” (Peronist Architecture) which also featured photographs exhibited here at the CCR. Here is the link: http://jaquealarte.com/2013/11/12/claudio-larrea-el-fotografo-flaneur/

The word “flâneur” caught my attention since I didn't know it, and it also appears in the introductory text of the exhibition written by Villar when he says: "this survey of a Porteño flâneur." I checked the RAE (Royal Spanish Academy) dictionary and got the following result: "The word Flâneur is not registered in the Dictionary." So I continued with Wikipedia, and there it does say something at the following link http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fl%C3%A2neur: "The term flâneur (/n/ flɑnœʀ) comes from French and means 'walker', 'stroller'. The word flânerie ('strolling', 'wandering') refers to the activity proper to the flâneur: wandering the streets, strolling aimlessly, without a goal, open to all the vicissitudes and impressions that cross his path."

We moved on to Room 7, where there was an exhibition that opened on December 10 and closes on February 8 of the current year, as indicated by a promotional card advertising the exhibit. It features a collection of paintings by artist Marcella Casal. The exhibition is titled “Silencio” (Silence).

The CCR website introduces it as follows: "The exhibition is based on the development of a series of paintings that explore the visibility of silence."

Among the exhibited paintings, executed with acrylic paint on stretched canvas, there was a work that, as I can see on the author's public Facebook page, is titled “Oeste” (West), which is a diptych and was awarded the 1st Prize of the University of Belgrano for Artistic Creation https://es-es.facebook.com/pages/Marcella-Casal-Pinturas/

“The visibility of silence”. From my perspective, they were just abstract paintings; I only saw lines, colors, points, and figures resembling triangles, but nothing more. However, it supposedly dealt with the "visibility of silence," so my personal questions were and are: How do you represent silence? Silence is defined as the absence of sound; through a sound medium (cinema, radio, theater) it is easy to represent, but in painting? It could be the absence of "something," of shapes, colors, or stripes, and even then it remains insufficient. It could be a pictogram representing an abstract reality, such as communication where the presence of silence is signaled or implied, it could be under the imperative of an order through a sign, etc. It could be drawn or attempted through an oxymoron; there are several examples of oxymorons with the word "silencio." A painting incorporating two opposite expressions, I think, would make it easier, and yet I don't know if it's possible—at least I didn't see any. For example, I read online about a feature film (called Musica Ocular) made entirely in sign language performed by deaf-mute people with the purpose of visually representing silence. But a movie with movement is not the same as a painting where, in principle, the medium is fixed, even though some form of movement can later be recreated within what is captured. To talk about silence, we can search for concepts in spirituality, science, philosophy, psychology, or law. In all those paths we will find different concepts related to silence, but I doubt any of them can truly account for how silence is visualized.

We moved on to Room 6, where there was an exhibition that started on December 10 and closes on February 8 of the current year. It is an exhibition called “Árbol Urbano” (Urban Tree) by visual artist Mónica Galeotti. The artist's idea for this exhibition is "on the theme of green-nature-oxygen-life," an ecological theme that has been trendy lately—at least for the last two decades—gaining more and more followers while manifesting in the most varied forms. This is one of the many, expressed through art.

The artist has her website at http://monicagaleotti.wix.com/arte

The first thing we noticed was that the room was, so to speak, divided into two parts: on one side, a collection of framed pictures hung for exhibition on the walls of the room; and at one end of the room, a constructed installation. Now, this installation was primarily composed of two parallel taut threads from which hung a tangle of green yarn, which apparently consisted of one or two well-tangled skeins of yarn thrown over the threads, mixed together, and left to hang in some places closer together and in others further apart. Whether "that" serves to "raise awareness," I don't know; I only saw the misuse of a resource like yarn, wasted. In the back corner, two or three small-sized tree trunks along with some branches, all placed vertically. And closer by, right beneath the tangled mass of mixed yarn, two pots with two small plants—they had no information whatsoever, and I don't know if they were two growing saplings.

On the other side of the installation, from a square platform installed on the ceiling, hung threads of green yarn, and this time, making good use of the yarn, there were knitted leaves—possibly crocheted—quite a few leaves as seen in the photograph, and on each leaf a little piece of paper. I don't remember what it said; I believe it was one or more names per leaf.

The CCR webpage, referring to this work, states: "It captures in an entertaining and creative way the importance of greenery within the city, which results in a better quality of life. The tree itself symbolizes life, being part of our landscape and forming a scenic and cultural heritage."

One could make a connection with sprouts, leaves, names, and find "life" there, but I don't know—it didn't quite click for me, and as for the rest, I saw no point to it. They had placed a video projected onto the floor where the artwork was apparently being discussed; we didn't watch the video and continued touring the exhibition. It felt to me like creativity fell short. This entire installation together felt rather simplistic, making it hard to see the proposed theme of "green-nature-oxygen-life"—let's say the green was noticeable, but the rest? I didn't see it.

The rest of the exhibition consisted of several works, mostly collages, where the figure of the tree did not go unnoticed. Regarding this, the CCR webpage states: "Works in very varied techniques are exhibited, using discarded materials found on the street or in public squares, with the aim of generating less waste. A large part of the installation was made by reusing disused elements, which in this case became artwork." And on the room's wall it was written: "Discarded materials or materials found on the street or in squares are used in the works with the aim, also, of generating less waste." This is going too far; she assumed the role of the now-called "urban collectors" (formerly simply "cartoneros" or cardboard pickers), gathering some waste for her artwork exhibited at the CCR with the purpose of leaving a message of "ecology and green responsibility." Ultimately, personally, I felt they were just collages.

In Room 8, an exhibition that started on December 10 and closes on February 1 of the current year, titled “Espacio Intangible” (Intangible Space) by artist Marcelo Hepp.

The CCR webpage states regarding this exhibition: "His sculptures embody the creative imprint he already announced in his 1970s drawings, also exhibited on this occasion. The exhibition places us in a space in motion." Indeed, on the room's walls there were frames containing drawings, all in black and white—I don't know if they were made with pencil, charcoal, or another medium. They didn't catch my attention as much as the sculptures, though upon seeing them without any information, they appeared to be drawings representing a heavy and difficult era of the country. Returning to the sculptures, if anything they conveyed, it was movement. Movement and reflection—in fact, reflection is what gave that life, that movement, and that spatial location to the figure.

There is an online article at the following link http://www.arte-online.net/Notas/Marcelo_Hepp titled “La dimensión fractal de sus esculturas” (The Fractal Dimension of His Sculptures) written by Alicia Estela Beltramini Zubiri, which refers to the author's same exhibition but displayed elsewhere, in a fine arts museum.

In the first photograph of this exhibition, you can see a sculpture in the foreground, a second sculpture behind it, part of the demonstration artwork (which I will comment on later), and on the back wall some of his drawings.

In this second photograph of the exhibition, we can see in the foreground a sculpture of a female figure reclining in water; behind it, you can catch a glimpse of the swimmers' work—if I remember correctly, it is the piece “Estilo mariposa” (Butterfly Stroke)—and on the other side, another work depicting a falling drop. There were two drops, but the second one cannot be seen. Of course, there were several more sculptures to enjoy.

The CCR webpage states: "Hepp projects the literal and perfect representation of a bicycle, a swimmer, or a frog in reflections that show them transfigured. This transformation makes his works immensely attractive: the stillness of the metal they were made from vibrates and merges into dynamic figures. In Butterfly Stroke, Blue Lagoon, and The Walker, the artist creates articulated volumes in multiple identities. Behind the beauty of these figures made of wrought iron, cast bronze, or resin, we find the consummate work of a tenacious sculptor."

And yes, I agree with this description; it seems appropriate to me. Overall, among what was available to see at the CCR, this particular exhibition was good. Although at times it seems redundant—copying and repeating an eye, a head, a shape two or three times, or playing with reflections—you still saw something volumetric with elaborate craftsmanship that suggested it was not simple. Perhaps it was, and I don't know, but it gave the impression of requiring time and labor. Now, the imagination wasn't very awakened; it fell into common tropes, except for some works like the demonstrators and the heads coming out of the window with little balloons that looked like chewing gum, perhaps meant to evoke apathy toward the demonstrators—at least that's what it seemed to me.

We moved on to Room 9, a small room featuring an exhibition that opened on December 10, titled “O Pássaro Observador” (The Observing Bird), an exhibition by artist Ileana Hochmann.

The presentation of the work on the CCR webpage says: "Described as serigraphs, Ileana Hochmann's works can provoke a certain surprise in the viewer. Suspended transparencies, embossed papers (simply crumpled and/or torn), bricks, clothespins, and magnifying glasses are some of the elements that make up the repertoire related to serigraphic technique. A serigraph that doesn't look like a serigraph..."

And it really was like that; I saw it and didn't know what it was about, nothing made sense. The figure of the bird, which was everywhere—what meaning did that have? I don't know, you can elaborate many speculations, and indeed people have formulated them to explain the exhibition, but nothing concrete. You saw a bird whose species you could guess, and it was observing—at least we know it wasn't a blind bird. What was it observing? Who knows, we only know that it "observed".

In the room there was an introduction to the artwork, pasted on the wall, written by Mercedes Casanegra (the same presenter on the CCR webpage), which traces a line running from the author's "nomadism" and culminating in the creation of a hieroglyphic seal from a bird, finalizing the work in the Recoleta exhibition.

That description felt like total raving; in fact, I found it more pleasant and amusing to read that—resembling a poetic blend with science fiction—than looking at the photos with wood and papers hanging from the "observing bird".

In the next room, Room 11, an exhibition titled “Forma, Unidad, Plan…” (Form, Unity, Plan…) by artist Isaac Zylberberg.

I will copy verbatim what the CCR webpage says since it is brief and concise: "Forma, Unidad, Plan… This is an exhibition of the artist's latest production, created during the period 2009–2013. The technique used in all the works consists of oils painted on vinyl paper (wallpaper rolls). Some of the works are cubist-style landscapes, with the majority of the work being abstract in character."

As seen in the image, there were distorted shapes, and you could see the unity in how they were all facing the same direction; none generated a rupture. And what about the plan? If the plan was to make all distorted shapes, then it was fulfilled. I think the presence of the ellipsis in the title makes a difference. Almost all were abstract, giving the sensation in many cases of deformed expensive figures and the presence of eyes, or at least they looked like that. There were abundant colors and not much else.

Next, I will talk about a photographic exhibition located on the wall along the hallway connecting the different rooms of the Centro Cultural Recoleta.

The exhibition was called “Transparencia 2014” (Transparency 2014). It opened on November 13, 2014, and closes on February 1, 2015.

The sign presenting the exhibition stated verbatim: "The photographic exhibition Transparency is an initiative of the Undersecretariat of Human Rights and Cultural Pluralism. Its objective is to portray the mosaic of identities of the City of Buenos Aires and to account for the active contribution of communities in the Porteño cultural fabric. With that motto and under the slogan 'Portray the diverse, celebrate the multiple', the 34 photographs that make up this exhibition were selected."

And the presentation of the exhibition on the CCR webpage, after indicating that it is the 7th edition of this contest, adds: "The General Directorate of Communities called for the contest aimed at visual artists and artistic photography amateurs. The objective of the contest is to capture images portraying the concept of Buenos Aires as a mosaic of identities forged by immigrant traditions and reinforced since the return of democracy through respect for individual liberties."

I must say that I really liked these photographs, perhaps because they were realistic, diverse works that effectively showed mostly people in traditional costumes representing their origins or traditions that they still preserve, inherited from their ancestors. However, many of these photographs were taken at festivals, dances, shows, fairs—that is, particular occasions and events; they didn't show the day-to-day life of each identity, which is perhaps harder to represent. But the point is that the exhibition was good to observe, and I also wanted to focus on the theme mentioned in both presentations of the exhibition as a "mosaic of identities." Incidentally, loosely speaking, it is a relatively recent concept from recent years, coming to replace the previously widespread concept still used by the general public: "crisol de razas" (melting pot). "Melting pot" alluded to a set of races merging to give rise to a single national unity. It is a concept with many years behind it when the word "race" was considered differently than it is today; even the idea of a single unity arising from several is no longer viewed that way. Instead, the current concept is "mosaic of identities," which alludes to a social group made up of various identities; mosaic speaks of diversity.

To understand the idea of a "melting pot" and contrast it with that of a "mosaic," I will first copy an excerpt that explains the idea of a "melting pot" well from the book titled “La Nación y sus Otros: raza, etnicidad y diversidad religiosa en tiempos de Políticas de la Identidad” by author Rita Laura Segato.

"By contrasting the Brazilian case with the Argentine one, facets of the whitening issue emerge that would remain hidden if we looked at Brazil or Argentina in isolation. In both countries, the elite project was Europeanizing, or in other words, the elites—committed to producing a rhetoric of identity—coincided in their interest in constructing a profile for the Nation in which, regardless of the variety of ingredients incorporated, the final stamp bore the mark of European presence.

The image chosen by politicians, historians, and men of letters in Argentina to speak of ethnic mixing in the country was the image of the 'melting pot' (crisol). Argentina was—and continues to be—described in school and podium discourse as a 'melting pot of races'. This image approaches the 'anthropophagic' civilization chosen by Oswald de Andrade to describe Brazil. In both, there is an active ingestion of diverse elements to give rise to a unique product. The melting pot consumes materials and fuses them into alloys whose primary components are lost, sacrificed in the production of something different. In Argentina, particularly, there was a clear predominance of the European white pattern, and of formal and informal strategies to extinguish any trace of internal heterogeneity, whether in the form of different accents from Spaniards, Italians, and Jews, or provincial behaviors with some pre-Hispanic mark. Everything had to conform to a single model, working in the melting pot without leaving vestiges of the materials used in the smelting." (Pages 258, 259; 2007 Edition, Prometeo Editorial).

As I indicated before, today people speak of a "mosaic of identities," at least within the scope of the City of Buenos Aires.

To reflect what the concept of a "mosaic of identities" or "mosaic of communities" is all about, I refer to a City Government program aimed at showing that Argentina's true identity is its diversity and the contribution made by each of the ethnic groups comprising it.

For example, in the text “Historias Curiosas de Templos de Buenos Aires” compiled by Marcos Gabriel, it says: "The City of Buenos Aires is a mosaic of identities. As a product of the immigration currents that arrived in our country in the mid-19th century, immigrants came to our port bringing their history and also their faith." (Page 10. Prologue.)

What is Argentina, Mosaic of Identities? "Created by the National Secretariat of Tourism based on the conviction that Argentina's true identity is diversity, the objective of the Argentina Mosaic of Identities program is to strengthen, preserve, and develop the country's cultural, ethnic, and religious heritage." Article from La Nación newspaper, 2001, titled “Tras las huellas de los gauchos judíos” (Tracing the Footsteps of Jewish Gauchos). Available at http://www.lanacion.com.ar/212440-tras-las-huellas-de-los-gauchos-judios

In another text titled “Algunas tendencias del turismo cultural en la Argentina. El patrimonio 'olvidado' como recurso turístico” by author Claudia Toselli (Bachelor in Tourism), it states: "The arrival of the first settlers to Argentina was rescued through the 'Argentina Mosaic of Identities' program, whose objective was to strengthen, preserve, and develop Argentina's cultural, ethnic, and religious heritage. Under the criterion of 'think global, act local', it proposed generating strategies to develop and boost the particularities of each place. To this end, new sustainable products were created, understanding that these sites could constitute a true alternative through cultural tourism." (Page 5) available online at http://www.usal.edu.ar/archivos/imae/otros/a_ocio-08.pdf (Article published in the online magazine Travelturisme, 2004).

Currently, on the City Government webpage, at the following link http://www.buenosaires.gob.ar/derechoshumanos/colectividades/observatoriocolectividades, we have the "Observatory of Communities. Buenos Aires, mosaic of identities.""We define the City of Buenos Aires as a mosaic of identities; a city that offers multiple ways of being experienced, a city that beats and vibrates to the rhythm of thousands of sounds that make up its melody."

And finally, the link http://www.buenosaires.gob.ar/derechoshumanos/observatorio takes us to the "Observatory of Communities." "An 'observatory' is known as a social science data collection method consisting of systematizing, organizing, and analyzing different types of information within categories.The Observatory of Communities is the result of extensive work whose objective is to reveal the histories and the cultural, social, and institutional contributions of the various migratory waves that arrived in the city."

Then we reached a room that, instead of being numbered, had a name: Sala Prometeus. It has a sign reading the following: "Buenos Aires, December 2001. This room has been restored and conditioned for the exhibition of digital art works in accordance with the agreement signed between the Centro Cultural Recoleta and the Epson Foundation."

Exhibited there was the show Chroma. Exterior Noche/Interior Día (Chroma. Exterior Night/Interior Day) by Pablo Zicarello and Vivian Galbán.

This is another case where the presentation—in this case by Graciela Taquini—seemed like entertaining nonsense to me. To give an example, where the curator says: "The staging lays bare an aspect of the human condition. Here, her back-facing women are colorful, evanescent, elusive, and at the same time unattainable. In some way, an epic underlies it, an open narrative." In those exact works, I only saw a blurred figure. And in those works that were not blurred figures, they were abstracts.

Here, in a tiny corner, as seen in the photo, almost like a hollow in the wall, we found what is called Microespacio, featuring the work of an artist named Fernando Sucari. This exhibition opened on November 13 and closes on February 8 of the current year. It is titled Fresquera (Larder/Cooler). "Cups thrown next to the tree or in the flowerbed"—not just cups, but also styrofoam trays, plastic trays, bottles that were used as molds, combined with some pieces of wood plus a few pebbles, and the result is that construction seen in the photograph. And what meaning does that have? I don't know. I always ask about the meaning, as if to "be able to see something beyond what we are seeing." Perhaps it means nothing at all, but meaning nothing would allow me to say anything at all about what I see, and for now I will avoid saying anything more about it.

The title did catch my attention. Fresquera. According to Wikipedia, Fresquera was defined as: "A larder or chamber was the small household dependency intended to keep food fresh. Before the spread of electricity and the popularization of the refrigerator, it was the most common system for this, along with the pantry. Even later, the refrigerator has been familiarly called a chamber or fresquera by analogy."

To expand, you can visit these two links: http://blogs.20minutos.es/capeando-la-crisis/2014/07/24/las-fresqueras-que-invento/ and http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fresquera What is the relation to the stacking of the artwork? ...? To see more photographs by this artist, you can visit here: http://fernandosucari.tumblr.com/

In the Historieta Space, an exhibition opened on November 13 by Julieta Arroquy, titled “É un mondo difficcile”. On the CCR webpage it says: "Solo exhibition by cartoonist Julieta Arroquy reviewing her early works of graphic humor and her recent creation, Ofelia, in the mythical Historieta room."

This exhibition was the one I liked the least; rather, I disliked it. I entered with the idea of seeing something creative or original, unique to the author—whether I like it or not—but when I saw what it was about, it rubbed me the wrong way. It turns out the cartoonist placed her character "Ofelia" (whom I had never heard of nor knew existed as such) inside a varied collection of famous artworks by renowned painters, for example, Picasso's Guernica, Munch's The Scream, Klimt's The Kiss, Warhol's Marilyns, Van Gogh's Bedroom in Arles, Quino's Mafalda, Magritte's The Son of Man, etc. Ultimately, she reproduced these works and inserted into them...

Zero Dark Thirt

 Zero Dark Thirty - 2012 - Kathryn Bigelow

This film tells the story of how the Americans began the investigation, how they carried it out until tracking down Bin Laden, and finally how they found and killed him.

The plot is interesting and well-told; it spans several years, and although you can notice that some characters underwent changes, the protagonist stays the same throughout.

It begins with cruel scenes of the torture of captured suspects accused of terrorism, but at a point, perhaps almost halfway through, the torture scenes disappear and are replaced by pursuit and tracking scenes, more computer-based or visual, until it reaches the climax with a few gunshots.

They manage to build a bit of tension during the final action sequence.

It is an American film from 2012, directed by Kathryn Bigelow.

The original title is Zero Dark Thirty. As I read, it is an expression (is it a military expression or one commonly used in any setting?) used to refer to 12:30 at night, believed to be the darkest hour.

It is categorized as a dramatic thriller and war film. Basically, it is a story of revenge, based on true events. At the very beginning, it specifically states: "This film is based on first-hand accounts of real events." But it doesn't delve any deeper; for my part, I believe it. It is known that much of what the movie shows actually happened: the tortures, the mentioned terrorist attacks (Twin Towers, hotel in Pakistan, CIA Chapman base in Afghanistan, Abbottabad compound, etc.), and the cases of leaks by American intelligence soldiers or soldiers who eventually came forward to share their story and participation in the raid on Bin Laden are also well known.

The film received 5 Oscar nominations in 2012 (Best Picture, Best Actress, Best Original Screenplay, Best Film Editing, and Best Sound Editing). It only won one, for Best Sound Editing (Paul N.J. Ottosson).

In addition to the Oscars, it earned other nominations and awards:

·         2012 Golden Globes: Best Actress in a Drama (Chastain). 4 nominations.

·         2012 Critics' Choice Awards: Best Actress (Chastain) and Best Editing. 5 nominations.

·         2012 BAFTA Awards: 5 nominations, including Best Film and Best Actress.

·         2012 National Board of Review (NBR): Best Film, Director, and Actress (Chastain).

·         2012 New York Film Critics Circle: Best Film, Director, and Cinematography.

·         2012 Satellite Awards: Best Original Screenplay. 5 nominations, including Best Picture.

·         2012 Los Angeles Film Critics Association: Best Editing.

·         2012 American Film Institute: Top 10 - Movies of the Year.

·         2012 Directors Guild of America (DGA): Nominated for Best Director.

·         2012 Chicago Film Critics Association: Best Picture, Director, Actress, Screenplay, and Editing.

Film poster photo 3

In my opinion, the film is well-made; it has a documentary-like feel, builds suspense, and follows a coherent storyline, although at times it feels a bit lost in time—though you have to keep in mind that several years passed between certain events. The setting, music, and sound design are well executed. Above all, it recreates a true event, whether or not it strictly adheres to reality, considering that it was made very soon after the events it portrays, and many details remain classified, which makes the task difficult for directors or anyone tackling the subject.

At a certain moment (1:44), there is a display of pragmatism: a meeting is held, and three officials debate with a fourth who supports the idea that Bin Laden is inside the compound, arguing it could be "the third unidentified man." The dialogue goes:

— We've done a counter-analysis of your report. According to the report, this behavior could belong to someone other than al-Qaeda. — I know you give a 40% chance that your man is a high-ranking al-Qaeda commander. But you also say there's a 35% chance he's a Saudi drug trafficker, a 15% chance he's a Kuwaiti arms dealer, and a 10% chance he's a relative of the brothers. — Initially, we agree with you. The house screams security; it screams someone who wants to intimidate, it even screams someone bad. But it doesn't scream Bin Laden. — You know how this works. If you can't prove it's not Bin Laden, prove it's not someone else, like a drug trafficker. — You know we lost the ability to prove that when we lost the Detention Program. Who the hell am I going to ask? Huh? A Guantánamo prisoner with a lawyer? He'll tell his lawyer to tip off Bin Laden. — You'll think of something.

In this brief dialogue, two issues are apparent: one is the pragmatism of the Americans, manifested in the phrase "you'll think of something"; the other is the shift in policy resulting from a change in administration, and therefore, the ruling political party.

As an additional comment, the Pakistani security forces are seen carrying characteristic long sticks. These turn out to be typical of Pakistan, India, and Bangladesh. Known as a lathi, it is considered "an integral part of police functioning," also referred to as a cane stick, baton, or long stick. These batons can reach up to 2.4 meters in length. In colonial times they were made of bamboo, but nowadays they are manufactured from polycarbonate. Their use began with ancient farming inhabitants driving livestock. Over time, they ended up being used by security forces. They function as a tool for intimidation and for dispersing crowds. In the hands of an expert, they can even be lethal.

If there is one thing I didn't like, it was the lead actress's performance. Contrary to what all her "Best Actress" award nominations suggest, I thought it was terrible. She embodies a bland character, constantly looking pitiful, as if hurt by everything, as though she's about to cry. She looks pained by every situation she witnesses, looking like she's about to cry the entire time. In many moments, she spends her time with her mouth open instead of speaking with firmness. The only time she does, she screams like a hysterics patient—the same hysterical attitude she has when writing on the glass with a marker. In the end, she finishes crying as a corollary to her work, her personality, or goodness knows why. It certainly wasn't out of excitement, since at no point is she seen working with enthusiasm; rather, she spends her time complaining, grumbling, and looking uncomfortable the whole time. It felt like she was warning everyone that at any second she was going to burst into tears.

Link to the film's profile on IMDb and FilmAffinity:http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1790885/ http://www.filmaffinity.com/es/film961277.html

Before Adam

Reading this book, titled Before Adam, written by Jack London in 1907 and published by Editorial Ediciones 29, is fast-paced and engaging. It is written in a clear and clever way. The author attempts to present us with an overview of those hominids at some point in evolution. It is not identified which ones they are; he implies that they are the ancestors of modern man, but is that really the case? Today we know that many species became extinct, and that there are still four or five related to modern man, such as chimpanzees or gorillas. It is an inaccuracy, although it shows that if, through his dreams, he traces back to his ancestors, there would be no doubt that it is modern man. Be that as it may, it presents a panorama of that world along the path of evolution and that is why I find it clever, mostly because you are experiencing the day-to-day life of someone many, many thousands of years ago. Although the book is presented as “a masterpiece of the terror that prevailed in remotest times, unbridled terror in remotest times,” it didn't seem like that big a deal to me; it doesn't generate terror, but rather a struggle for survival—although this struggle did imply a terror of many dangers, it also included adventures and discoveries. At least that is how the book is presented, and I imagine that, as a fictionalized work, it is in a very light version of what life must have been like back then, which I imagine must have been quite harsh and dangerous, although normal for life at the time.
Thus begins: “Here is the history of our forebears. Their history is our history. Do not forget it. It is certain that there was a day when, abandoning the swinging of the trees, we began to walk erect. But it is equally certain that, in times even more remote, we slithered from the shores of the seas to undertake our first adventure on Earth.”

This idea seems to intrigue him, and he returns to it in the middle of the book when he writes: “For Big-Tooth also had another self, and when he fell asleep, that other self drifted back in its dreams to the winged reptiles and the struggles of the dragons; and beyond, to the elusive life of the first mammals; and still, still farther, to the muddy shores of the primeval ocean. I dare not say more! It is too vague: but also too complex... and horrible. I have only intended to indicate those panoramas and visions, as vast as they are overwhelming, through which I have followed my self in the course of evolution, not only from the ape, advancing toward man, but from the worm in slow march toward the ape....”

In part, it reminds me of a book by Tacitus when he travels through Germania and describes the peoples he encounters. The character in this book also mentions, though does not describe, other peoples or species, the Fire-People or the Tree-People, for example. This leads me to wonder: for the author, were there species more advanced than the one from which modern man is derived? He seems to leave the impression that yes, since those tribes (I call them species, because the author himself differentiates them very well) knew technological advances such as making fire or the use of arrows, which the tribe in question that the book is about lacks—they do not have them—although in the end he leaves open the possibility of interbreeding between unions of those tribes (or species) and the one in the story itself.

So we will get to know the stories of Big-Tooth, Lop-Ear, Snag-Tooth, Swift-One, Red-Eye, Chalalaca, Marrow-Bone, Bald-Face, Song-Bird, Bow-Legs, Wide-Face, Long-Lip, Big-Face, and Beard-Face, who, as can be seen, almost all of them bore first and last names.

It is a good book to spend time enjoying fictionalized literature, and although there are many books that deal with the subject, these come more from the scientific side, whether through anthropology, branches of evolutionary studies, or more currently, some essays on neurosciences.

Originally published on June 17, 2013

The Joy of Not Working

The Joy of Not Working (or The Success of the Lazy / Slacker's Success - Ernie J. Zelinski).

The Success of the Lazy (2002 - Ernie J. Zelinski) is a book aimed at discussing the virtues of creativity versus daily or excessive work. The book leaves a lot to be desired. I didn't like it much. It has a somewhat misleading title. It has a good idea regarding leisure, relaxation, distraction, and everything that should be encouraged in people, to a certain extent, to face and solve problems that originate in work. In itself, it is written in a particular way that I didn't like: one page only contains phrases, no more than five, and the text is on the other page. In other words, if formatted normally, the actual text would take up just a little more than half of what the book currently is, rather than how it is presented.

The worst chapter is the one where the author dwells on speaking very poorly of workaholics, talking about them while forgetting many things and accusing them of all kinds of evils. Instead of speaking well or at least offering a fair critique, he goes out of his way to talk trash like a small-time gossip—a topic he shouldn't even touch upon, since it is not what the book is supposed to be about and/or conveying.

Also, in his attack on workaholics, it contains phrases like how they neglect "the good things in life"—that is, abstract, meaningless phrases that say nothing.

The book doesn't say much that one doesn't already know, and it contains many quotes from various authors. It talks about first-world countries, where opportunities are different from those in underdeveloped countries. On some occasions, the author speaks with a sort of disdain for those who work.

It also gets some things right for my taste; it's not like everything in what little he wrote is bad. It presents a few options for creativity, being independent, and two or three others, but the system is different—that's not enough. I believe his idea lacked greater options; they exist and many writers explain them, but the truth is this author does not.

The need for poorly paid and excessive work is simply not addressed in the book. Instead, the author dedicates himself to speaking ill of those who are in those conditions, but avoids presenting solutions or perspective. The author's ignorance of the reality of underdevelopment is clear.

It is true that the discourse comes from countries that are powerful in various aspects of the world, such as the USA and Canada, but he avoids dealing with the issue of the price paid to be powerful. Perhaps that price comes from the work and effort of many of their moderately governed fellow citizens as well, with respect to countries that are not, and in effect, those who work hard get their reward or return.

I don't know if the author, in an underdeveloped country, would have had the opportunity he had in a developed country to be able to write this book, which, in my view, is not recommendable at all.

I mention the developed/underdeveloped difference solely for the purpose of reviewing this book. In reality, the differences are different and cover various aspects: cultural, stability, economy, education, etc. Ultimately, the parameters are different. But for the purpose of reviewing this book, I used those two concepts. 

Hotel Danubio

 Hotel Danubio is a 2003 Spanish film directed by Antonio Giménez-Rico, classified under the crime genre (IMDb).

The movie is a remake of a 1955 film titled Los Peces Rojos (The Red Fish). This remake follows practically the same plot line as the first one, even respecting the setting; only the ending changes. This makes it possible for me to compare them. It is almost inevitable.

There may be the case of those who have seen the 1955 version first and then the 2003 version. It could be the reverse: those who first saw the 2003 version and then the 1955 one. And inevitably, there are those who haven't seen either.

In my particular case, I first watched the 1955 version and then the 2003 one. To those who haven't seen either of them, I recommend watching them in that order. To those who saw the 2003 version, I suggest allowing yourselves to watch the 1955 one.

In this film, compared to the previous one, there are various name changes. The events take place in 1955, this time "somewhere" along the Costa da Morte (Death Coast); it doesn't specify where, whereas in the previous film the events took place in Gijón. Both locations are in northern Spain.

This time, the hotel is named Hotel Danubio, which is precisely what gives the film its title. Personally, I find it misguided; someone unfamiliar might picture something related to the river of the same name (the Danube)—it happened to me—and it has nothing to do with it.

The opening of the film, compared to the previous one, lacks the establishing of place: the rain, the waves, the water, the sea, the storm... all of that is no longer there, barely a single wave crashing against the shore and nothing more.

The marine-themed paintings and pictures everywhere are barely noticeable in this remake, or they aren't there, or they aren't seen, or they aren't shown.

For someone who didn't see the first one, it might seem interesting, novel; but for someone who saw the original, this remake will hardly be more—or equally—appealing.

One positive aspect it has is the color. Although in the previous one, in black and white, set over fifty years ago, the absence of color gives it an old-fashioned, dated feel.

At the beginning, it isn't shown which theater it is; later it is, and you can see that it's the Savoy Theater.

Since everything takes place during the Francoist era, the reference becomes evident when an envelope with a stamp of the Generalísimo is clearly shown in a close-up.

Another change is the publishing house; this time it is "Editorial Júpiter S.A." I don't know if it actually exists or existed, especially back in the fifties.

In the review of the other movie, I wanted to mention a line, but I didn't know how to fit it in. Now I do, given that the phrase also changes: in the previous film, the female protagonist at one point says "soy barriobajera" ("I'm low-class/from the slums" — was that typical language of the fifties? I don't know), but in this remake she says "se la va a tragar" ("he's going to swallow it"), repeating it in reference to the key. I ask myself the same question: was that typical language of the fifties? I don't know, but in this latter case, it doesn't seem like it to me either.

Some of the changes give the feeling that they trim the film, always keeping the first one as a reference point. There are also absences, such as the editor's subplot, the part about what is published in the newspapers, some minor chats with secondary characters, and the police investigation. It feels as though the movie is shorter, but at the same time, the dialogue becomes slower. In this film, all situations are resolved more hastily; perhaps that is why some dialogues become slower.

One of the paintings in the main character's house depicts a bull with trees behind it; it is very similar or identical to the one in the previous movie, but this one appears to be enlarged or larger.

On several occasions it talks about the "delict" (crime), and all the elements of the "crime" are presented. It is legal and police terminology; however, in the previous movie, rather than linking it to something strictly legal-police related (which it effectively was), it linked it more directly to literature, fiction, and reality.

The ending is different, which I won't talk about, but it is another of the changes seen in the remake.

As for the songs, in this case, just like in the previous film, the director shows us excerpts from the Spanish musical revue theater (zarzuela/revista).

On a blog, with the link http://larevistamusical.blogspot.com.ar/2010/02/la-revista-musical-espanola-traves-del_21.html, I found something interesting that I copy verbatim:

"Hotel Danubio. Its importance lies solely and exclusively in showing us how a girl from the chorus of the great vedette 'Celia de Matos' (an obvious nod by the screenwriter to Celia Gámez and Virginia de Matos) finds herself entangled in a police investigation. Her rehearsals take place during the staging of Yola and La hechicera en palacio, specifically with the numbers '¡Mírame!' and 'Estudiantina portuguesa'."

A more than convincing and complete explanation, expressed in few words. The inclusion of the musical (which, by the way, is in the first film) struck me as fortunate, mostly because it seems to extend it a bit more and allows it to be enjoyed without cutting it off mid-development.

Links to the film's entry on IMDb and FilmAffinity:http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0382085/http://www.filmaffinity.com/es/film335415.html

Red Fish

Red Fish (Los Peces Rojos) - 1955 - José Antonio Nieves Conde

This is a Spanish film noir, classified as a crime movie.

Its synopsis is brief, and I am copying it verbatim from the FilmAffinity webpage:

On a stormy night, Hugo and Ivón arrive at a hotel in Gijón accompanied by Hugo's son. They go out to see the rough sea, and shortly after, Ivón returns begging for help because the boy has been swept away by the sea. As the body does not turn up, a police inspector takes charge of the case. (FilmAffinity)

It is a 1955 film directed by José Antonio Nieves Conde and starring Emma Penella and Arturo de Córdova.

It is shot in black and white, and it is very good and intriguing.

It begins when the main characters arrive at the Hotel Savoy in the city of Gijón. This is a port city in northern Spain.

The hotel setting—filled with numerous paintings, artwork, and prints featuring marine motifs and ships, far too many ships—combined with the frequently filmed sea, sets the stage to immerse us in the film. It has a surprising beginning that I will avoid spoiling. But from the water, the storm, the wind, the rain, the people and their windbreakers, coats, and cloaks, to the city and the waterfront: everything is very good.

At the same time, it transports us to a bygone era and its daily life characteristics, ranging from automobiles to minor yet common items of that time, such as elevators or light switches.

Ivón's (Emma Penella) life is that of a poor actress. Hugo Pascal (Arturo de Córdova) says of her: "Ivón worked in that theater; she had a silly little role in that stupid revue." On the corner, right next to the theater door, a sign reading Pavón Cinema or Theater can be seen (one of the posters indicates "Theater"), and the play is called Las Pájaras ("The Birds"). We can view this as a play on words or not.

Emma Penella's acting performance is fabulous and well-executed. She clearly delineates two distinct phases: the moments when she acts and the moments when she overacts.

Hugo Pascal (Arturo de Córdova), the protagonist, is a frustrated writer with poor sales whose fiction works are rejected for publication. At one point (0:26), the writer enters the Publishing Bookstore "Afrodisio Aguado S.A." to speak with the manager about publishing a book. The editor rejects him after giving him a lecture on realism (minutes 0:26 and 0:27). Apparently, the publisher actually existed, and books published by them could still be found in second-hand bookshops at that time. Realism appears on several occasions—in everything I mentioned earlier regarding locations—and continues throughout the movie, reaching the midpoint with the Cimadevilla cliff (42:55), and so on until the end.

A somewhat strange confusion begins to emerge in the plot. A back-and-forth dynamic mixes comedic and dramatic moments, acting and overacting, alongside brief musical snippets.

One snippet, referencing bullfighting (0:14:43), goes something like:

The bugles sound...

(...)

And stepping onto the ring,

The silence is scratched

By the clamor of applause,

Of a 'bravo!'

And from the stands,

A hand throwing...

(...)

I found it difficult to find the complete lyrics to this song and its title, or to know if it was created specifically for the film, which I doubt.

Later on, another one (0:29:03) goes as follows:

Here I am,

I am the whaling ship,

I am going to fish

Because my love is at sea.

At sea,

Which I will finally sail,

My heart...

At a certain point (0:39:48), officers of the Spanish Civil Guard (Guardia Civil) are seen wearing their characteristic tricornio. The tricornio is a hat with a wide brim folded upwards, making the force distinctive.

The hotel receptionist is quite a character—a smooth talker in front of the cameras, a blabbermouth who made up stories. This is a real reflection that still happens today: seeing people on television lying or exaggerating events and situations, some even creating fabricated stories without any shame.

When the newspaper publishes the receptionist's statements (42:55), he protects himself with the phrase "confused statements."

Halfway through the movie (43:35), the following dialogue takes place between the receptionist and the police officers:

·         Good evening, gentlemen.

·         Come on, don't be a joker. Are you still up?

·         These people from Madrid go to sleep very late. They are in the first-floor lounge.

·         Last night when they arrived, was it around this time, right?

·         The very same. I take my shift at a quarter to one.

·         Listen, I read in the paper—stated by you—that they asked you to accompany them up there, to the promontory, to show them the way.

·         Sir, they told me, "Come on, go up with us."

·         Are you sure they told you that?

·         Man... well, you see, I wanted to make things much more exciting.

·         Did they tell you or not?

·         No! But they could have told me. I...

·         That was impossible to do; they didn't want witnesses.

·         You say in the paper that the boy seemed to foresee his death and that you squeezed his hand with tears in your eyes.

·         I said it to make it more exciting, simply to make it more exciting.

·         Are you an idiot?

·         Nooo, nothing of the sort, Inspector. It's just that I am entertaining.

At one point (1:03:14), Ivón speaks from the theater with Hugo Pascal, and several theatrical promotional posters are visible on the wall in the background. On one of them, "Argentines in Spain" (Argentinos en España) can be clearly read. I do not know if it was a coincidence, if the poster is real (considering that many locations like the hotel, bookstore, and theater were real), or if it was included on purpose in the film. For instance, there might be a connection to the historical moment: here in Argentina, the Peronist government was coming to an end—a government that helped Spain significantly by selling flour and wheat after the war. The names of those featured on the poster cannot be clearly seen.

The story is well told, generating suspense and intrigue that unfolds as time goes on. Apparently, it was subject to Francoist censorship, which forced a modification of the ending. Nevertheless, it is a very good movie to watch, including the ending it has.

A remake of the film was made in 2003, titled Hotel Danubio, which I will talk about in another message.

Links to the movie's entry on IMDB and FilmAffinity:

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0048476/

http://www.filmaffinity.com/es/film934719.html