Remedy For Waxing Allergy

"Il Divo" (Paolo Sorrentino)

I felt great satisfaction in seeing the new film by Sorrentino, which offers a fascinating and reconstruction of fine brushwork by visionary of cinema, the last period of the career of Giulio Andreotti, by when he received the task of forming his Cabinet until the seventh and last day of the processes that suffered less glorious for the prosecution of the Mafia, the beginning of the new century. The glossary at the beginning of the film, stage and a red dry narrative of what happened in these twenty years, undertaken without leaving hints, make the Work is also particularly attractive to young people who have lived through the era of Andreotti only hearsay. The film, however, focuses mostly on his figure of a man, or rather on the controlled bursts, smiles, love unfulfilled, curious eyes that dart, rare and special, from this great figure of a statesman, including the freezing of his words sharp irony. How does Sorrentino gives us a portrait of a "man", rather than a "political"? Attributed to one of the most powerful of our history, in an indestructible, small weaknesses and turns them into metaphors continue within the film text: Andreotti is plagued by such a continuous headache (as I am sure, the Pontius Pilate of Bulgakov), longs desperately, but unsuccessfully, the return of a drug that can relieve him, the Tedax, but in the absence of this drink continuously aspirin. This happens all the time in which it is a bitter pill to swallow, delete it in his stomach and not let it leak: great scene in which even members of his family, in the bitter days in which there are processes for mafia, sitting at a table dine with one tablet dissolved in water. "We must also do evil, to ensure the good of our people," said Giulio Andreotti in the scene in which she imagines to vent. And it is the only moment of complete weakness, a river in flood, imagined as a monologue from the stage, the spotlight but are not ever embarrass this man of iron. His wife, brilliantly played by Anna Bonaiuto (but certainly not lower the skill of impersonating Sen. Servillo) is the only one who can break through the "prime minister", while all the other people that are around by Cirino Pomicino to Ciarrapico are not that "the manure which trees need to grow." Memorable scenes: the ride with glide Cirino Pomicino, skateboarding in the Transatlantic, the representation of the death of Falcone (the state machine is already destroyed, even before the fall), the kiss Totò Riina, the phone call to his wife from Moscow. I liked to think, going out and talking to Cynthia Odéon, Stephen and Jenny, when I was younger and did not read the newspapers, but I thought I was talking to and slogan, Andreotti was not the charm for me (some even macabre) that this the film gives a full and a bit 'reminds us of the star of another film Sorrentino, the "Consequences of Love".

Cervical Position High

A mother and a walk together on the sidewalk along a curve in a small provincial town. She is tired, weary from the heat and the shopping bags of which he pretends not to notice. Are you thinking what to prepare, but especially that his son is growing, which sometimes has recently also wore a tie, which will one day leave, which he is sad. As she walks down the sidewalk, past the small monument of the fallen, who follows him from behind with his head bowed, he wants to go home, get away from her and return to his world, to think of his plans, his future travelers, but also to the frustrations of their lives, the lack of work, tiredness for studies that are longer and a girl who is convinced that it can not pleasure. He wears a warm jacket because it is too heavy, does not want to talk, says very little about him, he prefers that people understand who is ill, rather than tell. Frown and prefers to make its displeasure, rather than scream and let off steam. The mother now and then turns around and looks at him, weighed down by plastic bags of white and green, the things that still must be done. Now we need to go buy bread, but there are a few hundred yards to the bakery: with the shopping bags full, under a sweltering heat and close to big machines that go fast on the asphalt hot. He stops, wants to go home and know how to give it a regret doing so. He wants to provoke her, hurt her at that moment does not know other ways to communicate: "Listen, I do not want, I told you, you go easy, because I come too?" And then turns around, annoyed, to go home, in the opposite direction. But I hear a voice broken by fatigue and sorrow answer right away, as if not to let it get away: "Please come along." In the words of the mother is also a tinge of desperation understanding that he did not immediately perceive. But he turns and looks at her: she stopped, tired and helpless, the heavy shopping bags, breathing fast, his hands are busy and can not fiddled with his glasses slipping on his nose, his eyes while repeating these words: "Please come along." It 's a long moment, he looks at her and was struck by a sudden sense of guilt, yes, because basically, even if it to him never said, he always liked to go with her to choose to put the sandwiches on the table, go into the store after you put your hands in the old blue plastic strip curtain to greet the man with the funny blue raincoat that is always close to the case, be intoxicated by the baker that ancient courtesy reserves for special customers, smell the hot pieces of focaccia piled behind the glass and look after the smile and the nod of understanding of the mother, seeing his face simplicity that precedes an act of sacrifice. And forgiveness. Mother and son: I saw them one day when I was on that sidewalk.