If Argentine television is the medium that has best portrayed the fatal grimace of recent history, it seems it’s not so much due to its cynicism or its artistic pretensions but, rather, for its capability to amplify. Everything we see in this film really happened, with that same exuberance and excess.
If Argentine television is the medium that has best portrayed the fatal grimace of recent history, it seems it’s not so much due to its cynicism or its artistic pretensions but, rather, for its capability to amplify. Everything we see in this film really happened, with that same exuberance and excess; this is no fiction, even if we now see the monster’s beat in extreme close up. Family speeches (of chilling currentness) under the hairspray and the shoulder pads, in which even humor gets to be part of this tragedy and pave the way for a seemingly bottomless anguish. Rather than a deforming mirror, we face a portrait that is barely, subtly, aged, by means of a frugal, lucid operation of absolute precision regarding archive footage.
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