From time to time my parents' conversation included a series of terms that were alien to me and made extended to a character who constantly called home. Corleone Hello, my father answered the phone and was to meet later with his mysterious interlocutor. There were many nights that my parents went quietly after coordination with Corleone and returned home late. Something strange happened to them. Little by little I was tying ropes and discovered, to my relief, that these were to go out at night with Uncle Louis to see the new film by Francis Ford Coppola based on the novel by Mario Puzo: The Godfather. Months later I found the novel at the bedside of my parents and my ten years I was lucky to wrap myself in the wonderful story of the Corleone family.
I have read the book three times before viewing the film, eleven years later in the film club of the former Education Ministry building in Abancay Avenue, which was the only option of seeing a classic movie at a time that there was no video, much less cable TV. Yet I recall the excitement I felt in seeing the development of the film and find how close they were the scenes, landscapes, locations and even the faces of the characters to the images that I had built from reading history. Now, can not remember how many times that I have seen the movie or trilogy to be exact, but I venture to say that have been dozens. Inevitably zap the tv at home and not get caught, when it is and the part that is, with any of the three Godfather films, although I must admit my preference for the former.
The Movie List I've seen is very long, in fact if not I will mention some other things that generate discrepancies. However, I encourage you to point out two movies that struck me despite not having seen more than twice and recommend it as essential to view as fundamentally human as deep in their dialogues. The first is Texas Paris by German director Wim Wenders, a story based on memory retrieval, the search of the past and the reconstruction of three lives away by fate. It is a film with many shots of landscapes in the desert of Arizona and a soundtrack of blues very old shudders. The dialogue of the couple in the cabin of a brothel across the phone and observed through a window, takes 15 minutes and believe me it's an anthology.
Martin Hache, Argentinean director Adolfo Aristarain, a story involving an Argentine film director in exile in Spain, his current partner, a mutual friend and Martin, the director's son who lives with them a season in Madrid, lying by his mother in Buenos Aires, which his father called for short Hache son. The development of the film revolves around the exile and the difficult relationship between father and son. The dialogues are long, deep and ironic with a strong psychological background.
Dante, bisexual and drug users, is balance the discussions of the quartet and commitment to death by Hache to criticism of his father. Just to be inquired by Hache on how much you like men than women get this reply unforgettable "In general you say? No. Of what sex are actually the same to me, is the less I care. I may like a man as much as a woman. The pleasure is fuck. It's like drugs. I do not attract a great ass, a pair of tits or a dick that fat, well ... is not that attract me, of course I draw, I love them! But I do not seduce me seduce the minds, intelligence seduced me, seduces me a face and body when I see that there is a mind that moves que vale la pena conocer. Conocer, poseer, dominar, admirar. La mente, Hache, yo hago el amor con las mentes. Hay que follarse a las mentes”.
Y, finalmente, cuando Hache le pregunta a su padre si no extraña la Argentina o tiene ganas de volver, Martín le responde: "Eso de extrañar, la nostalgia y todo eso, es un verso. No se extraña un país; se extraña el barrio en todo caso, pero también lo extrañas si te mudas a diez cuadras. El que se siente patriota, el que piensa que pertenece a un país es un tarado mental, la patria es un invento. ¿Qué tengo que ver yo con un tucumano o con un salteño?. Son tan ajenos a mi como un catalán o un portugués, una estadística, un número sin cara. Uno se siente parte de muy poca gente, tu país son tus amigos y eso sí se extraña, pero se pasa ".
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