sergicaballeroalsina

The opening credits are names I want to see printed in fire. Willem Dafoe, John Lurie, Harry Dean Stanton, Isabella Rossellini. I want to get drunk on hypnosis with Angelo Badalamenti's soundtrack. I want to read the Barry Gifford novels to see myself in. I want to get carried away by the journey of Nicolas Cage and Laura Dern and their vintage cheekiness, rude but certainly sexy. I want to pay tribute to those scenes, which exude an exaggerated chemistry in the fullness of its mythology: they are so alive that no one can disguise their true vocation of icons. I want to experience the romantic pulse of Sailor and Lula in their landscape, avant-garde and folk all at once. I want to live the romance with the road, feel the urge for pop transcendence. I want to stay on David Lynch's unmistakable ability to stylize the genre to its limits, through his dreamlike super-symbolist personality and its air of forbidden velvety surrealism. I want to settle in this perfect canonical redefinition of noir, in this beautiful, foreign, erotic, disturbing and passionate world.

We live in times in which any form of subversion ends up being absorbed, immediately becoming someone's profit. This has happened before. There are even corpses that also end up making profit. I guess it's a paradox that a series about the Pistols is premiering on Disney+. So was their contract with EMI or Kim Kardashian appearing on the cover of Rolling Stone, in spite of Sinnead O'Connor's will. Rock history is full of such examples. Once upon a time, these stories were told by the older brothers and it was transmitted from generation to generation of rockers. Nowadays, it is easier to teach these fragments of popular history through a series. This work is semi-documentary in nature and perfectly fulfills that task. Although it has episodes that are well known to the general public, there are unprecedented and interesting details to get an idea of what punk is supposed to mean. It has a certain historiographical interest: it explains but does not portray. On an artistic level, I think it's not a big deal. The performances are too rigid. When not exaggerated, cold ... although punk is the same, sometimes. It is a naïve portrait of a kind of childishness, stupidity of believing yourself to be a rock star, regardless of whether you are or not. The plot is very superficial, the characters conflicts are teenage soap opera like. That's exactly Disney+, I guess. It does not take any risk at any artistic level, it is absolutely flat. With art being one of the main themes, it's a shame that the series, taking in consideration Boyles' creative ability, it doesn't seem creative at all, as if the creator did not have much importance. In spite of all this, and if we take it for its usefulness being a informative capsule about a more or less outstanding episode in the history of recent popular culture, this series is a correct product, despite the paradox.

Black Mirror is back to interpellate us almost in real time. Joan is awful but tremendously light, without any kind of grease or stuffiness. It is fun, dynamic and, although it exploits the rabidly current too much in a loop with premises that we already know, that small step that goes further in the self-referential, that penultimate turn of the screw, is done with infinite grace, smiling generously at the original spirit of the Serie. A rentrée with a bunch of stars who maintain a wonderful tone with their fresh and fun performances in this affable and familiar mirror of our monstrous contemporary.