Hours 20.30, projection booth. To my left there's a good part of what I think is the magic of cinema, a technology that, when it comes to film, has changed little since the Lumiere brothers had built: the 35 mm projector. Not I can describe it to you in words, the projector, you should first see it, know it, touch it and then only then you might appreciate the principles of operation - the film is not blind faith, you have to love it, otherwise you do not believe that really exists. A machine, projector, mastered the skill with which the laws of physics, mechanics, optics, acoustics and plumbing and so perfect, is entrusted to my unworthy hands. Sometimes I wonder if they are profane or only a privileged level of a workman 3b (or both).
But I said ... at 20.30, the projection booth. The film has already put in the car, sleek and glossy wraps a train of gears, the leaves and follows the curves of another and then another one to finally reach the bottom reel. I can then press the green button that gives Power to the motor, I can raise the damper, turn off room lights and turn up the switch that turns on the lamp and the reader of the soundtrack. Jesus Christ would have been much more successful if some time had also made such a miracle (and maybe even the Romans instead of sentencing him to death he would be elected prime minister).
short, a contraption that can make us dream of other lives and other stories for a couple of hours is certainly the ticket price. But not always, though.
So, I tell you? Ah, yes, turn off the lights and start the screening room. What we are looking today? War? Spying? Romance on a desert island? Crime? Comedy? No, the film is now part of a fairly recent genre, you probably still do not study the DAMS: The cine-panettone Christmas. Cinepanettoni for friends, for many the only film of the year saw the film and a few rich thirteenth in the face of criticism of the industry and cine-intellectuals there Ghezzi.
I do not want the usual criticism of the quality of these disgusting things are not worth the film on which they are developed and 'then that would be like saying shit to shit (oops, I made it), I just want to try to understand why so many people you information on the timing, they telephone, loading the children into the car and arrive well in advance to spend € 7.50 each. The plots of these works of gourmet Christmas we know, are always the usual, there is no twist, no surprise stories of the rich and treacherous Where's My Car Abarth bronze metallic perpetuated on the screens every Christmas the same as their own . But, then why? Perhaps because there is no surprises, no disappointment, and the father of a family can feel comfortable, 'that his son will see at most a few tits nude Massimo Boldi and some that may end sodomized by a bunch of homosexuals dressed as a policeman. The child, record images that he likes to kill and saws. But it is the quality of the film or the quality of the public that disgusts me so much? But then, what do I know the quality of the public? Of course, not a conference at Harvard, but even the Ku Klux Klan. It would seem the ward after a mass lobotomy. But even this then: the frontal lobes are not lacking, there are no scars and no one loses almost drool at the mouth. So? It will, perhaps, that we Italians are a bit 'as these characters, dead pussy, rich villains but with a heart of gold that comes on to the happy ending? The Americans and the western us the cine-cake? Perhaps, as you'll see more and more and multiply: The Bold is the off the contenders, the Pieraccioni (yes, he too, through discounts and tits guaranteed), the snot, then the Winx and now we bring you even Aldo, Giovanni and Giacomo. They look like film, but they are tailored clothing market research: there is a part of the population having to spend € X, we make a film about the fourteen year olds in love, there is a part of the population who at Christmas does not look even know what going to see a middle-aged super-rich that spariamogli cornifica his wife with a tissue. Yeah, why not just see on TV these holes with meat around, we want to see in the cinema.
But there's more. To demonstrate that our gender is the national fast-food cinema, just read the credits. Open wide mouths, the bolus of popcorn will fall on the red carpet of the chairs and the floor because some of these films receive grants reserved for films of particular cultural importance etc., etc..
But I do not understand why my country? Can anyone tell me what I do not understand. I do not pretend that projects Eisenstein in Russian with German subtitles at Christmas (do not look even that), but a light film of high quality for all "exist right? But quality is a point of view? It will be ... But I do not know, I've tasted this cake but I can not feel any taste. Then, I prefer the cakes my grandmother's increasingly rare now, but always gustose.
Alla fine, devo confessarlo, passata la maratona natalizia, quando rimetterò le pellicole nei loro scatoloni e li riconsegnerò al corriere, chiuderò la grande porta del cinema e seduto piangerò piano, al buio, in solitudine perché quei film mi mancheranno, perché non posso farci niente, anche io li amo, ormai. Non mi importa più di sapere se ce lo vogliono mettere là dietro, in basso a tradimento o se siamo noi che ci pieghiamo a novanta gradi e che ringraziamo mentre fumiamo una sigaretta di rito.
Vi amo anch'io cinepanettoni, ecco i miei 7,50 euro, posto centrale prego. Ma si può entrare con la bibita?
PS: Do not worry about the critics, I think with the cuts to public education that are planned will have a guaranteed clientele among the next generation.
Merry Christmas.
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