These are the releases that hit movie screens this November 10:
By Jordi Batlle Caminal
Laia Costa, who today makes a double with the premieres of Un amor and El mestre que va prometre el mar, suits her well the characters of a woman who leaves the big city and takes refuge in a rural area to heal wounds, find herself , purge sins and things of this type. A few months ago we saw her in Els charmingts, by Elena Trapé, in the role of a mother temporarily separated from her daughter trying to find calm and put her head in order in a small Pyrenean town. The loneliness of that Laia Costa is now reproduced in the Laia Costa of Un amor, an adaptation of the homonymous novel by Sara Mesa whose heroine tries to rebuild her disoriented life by renting a rural house in a dilapidated state.
As expected, her presence provokes hostility in the town's inhabitants, a somewhat understandable hostility, since the stranger does not seem very willing to make friends. She is a rather dry, elusive character that is difficult to understand. It is not normal, for example, for her to accept a farmer's offer to make love to him in exchange for her fixing some leaks. That will be the dramatic core of the film: sex, which ignites desire and obsession in her, unrequited by the man, who limits himself to savagely fornicating without expressing a single drop of affection. The actor Hovik Keuchkerian makes a great creation of this laconic creature, with primitive and telluric features (when she reaches orgasm she makes a “mountain face,” says the protagonist) and anti-sentimental appearance, which was deservedly awarded at the last San Sebastian festival. Beyond this peculiar relationship, Un amor describes the behavior of other locals, systematically unfriendly: the mean landlord, the glass artist who tries to woo her, the posh couple with daughters addicted to barbecues, the woman with senile dementia and her husband... figures that do not go beyond the archetype.
The most suggestive aspect of Un amor is its square screen format, which at first surprises but ends up being adequate to, in addition to giving a patina of classicism to the images, convey a feeling of suffocation or lack of air. A resource that in the end Isabel Coixet herself ruins by widening the screen in a regrettable sequence.
By Salvador Llopart
In the Marvel universe there is a problem, and I am not referring to the problems of superheroes facing galactic supervillains, no. It is more of a business orientation problem. How to overcome the so-called superhero fatigue among fans of the genre and thus avoid the wear and tear of a formula that died with Thanos in the last installment of The Avengers, back in 2019?
An alternative could be The Marvels and its mix of superheroes - heroines in this case - with Disney's teenage comedy and its beloved princesses (not in vain is Disney the owner of the Marvel franchise). Without forgetting, as inspiration, Charlie's Angels, for the sisterhood between girls. With The Marvels we are facing a nominal continuation of Captain Marvel, the 2019 film that marked the first protagonist in the Marvel universe for a woman. Here some bracelets of pure energy - already, complicated in itself - plus the usual dysfunctions in space-time are the Macguffin, that is, they are the perfect excuse to get the battle rolling.
For the love of those bracelets, the Captain merges with the young girl Kamala Khan (the teenage heroine in Disney from a series called Mr. Marvel). A union to which the Captain's niece joins as third in harmony (in turn coming from the series The Scarlet Witch). And so the three make up a female group without problems of age, size, race or possible ageism: everything comes together to combat a galactic threat.
Its roots are, therefore, in the Disney series more than in the adolescent world of the first Mavel. We could call them the Marvelettes (there was actually a female group with that name whose biggest hit was Please, Mr. Postman) who, more than the hard rock adventure typical of the Avengers, opt for a sinuous, sentimental, emotional style, of R
Por Philipp Engel
In the mythical Los Tarantos (1963), between Somorrostro and the shanties of Montjuïc, La Singla began her journey, a gypsy who was born deaf and who, despite having the world against her, came to dance across half of Europe, emerging as the successor of Carmen Amaya. Until, one day, she simply disappeared, and no one cared to know what had become of her. A unique story, told as an investigative thriller starring Helena Kaittani from Córdoba. We already have our Searching for Sugarman.
By S. Llopart
There is a way of playing the drums that does not understand subtleties, just as there is a way of living that does not understand commitments. Eric, from Lagartija Nick y los Planetas, two fundamental groups of the Granada scene, plays the drums as he has lived: giving his all. His and his friends evoke the past here, just enough to show that Erik/Ernesto is someone more complex than he may initially seem, although no less forceful in his way of facing existence as he is in his way of hitting the instrument.
Por Ph. Obstacle
Another “based on real events” to take with the mandatory tweezers: A religious police officer with a flag planted in the grass breaks the rules, in this case, to rescue his daughter kidnapped by a sect of tattooed metalheads. Like a remake of Sound of Freedom, but with the charismatic Maika Monroe, much more outdated in terms of action, and without, as far as we know, being the Trojan horse of the global extreme right. The shame is that Nick Cassavetes has not inherited his parents' talent.
By J. Batlle
There is here a great true story (told in the novel by Francesc Escribano), a great character (the schoolteacher Antoni Benaiges, murdered at the beginning of the civil war by Rojo, for being an atheist) and a speech of unquestionable human significance. It's a shame that the film, in the formal aspect, is so conventional and sentimentally predictable and the lines of the characters are so schematic, except for the protagonist: Auquer marks the distance with a truly remarkable performance.
Por Ph. Obstacle
Fortunately, there is a category of white comedies, peppered with very discreet doses of uncomfortable or transgressive humor, which are very good to enjoy with the in-laws, without fear of a drama on the couch, like this one starring Inma Cuesta. which, without becoming a summit like his works for Javier Ruiz Caldera (3 Too Many Weddings) or Paco León (the Arde Madrid series), is enjoyed with a soft, constant laugh, which guarantees a pleasant evening without complications of any kind. guy.
