The distance between create and recreate it’s confusing. There is no act of creation that is not at the same time a recreation. It is created to recreate the best of the past and, at the same time, the most fortunate of the future. It is created so as not to fall into the temptation of recreating in the oblivion of the present. Not from the past. Whoever recreates may end up creating something and whoever he creates, even if he suffers a bit, recreates himself. And so.
Let’s put the two most notable authors of the day. If someone with a certain fondness for that of the cinema hears the name of Wes Anderson he quickly imagines Wes Anderson. His cinema is him because inextricably his name lives forever associated with the sentimental geometry of geometric planes. As it is. If that same fan accidentally stumbles upon the name of Yorgos Lanthimos gives a start His cinema, indeed, gives shocks. And it even bites.
Well, the two directors appeared in Venice with their latest works and, surprise!, there were no surprises. the short film The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, of the first, it is exactly what it is. I mean, Wes Anderson. And the same goes for poor creatures, from the Greek. Although here it would be convenient to make an aside. In truth, Lanthimos once again deals with what happens when conventions and norms are dynamited (that’s the shock from before), but with a formal finish, between rococo and retrofuturist, that no one would have ever imagined in the director of Canino. . Let’s say that the two create while having fun, but the first, judging from what we have seen, much more. That he is the one who plays here (Lanthimos, here).
The director who just released Asteroid city insist now in format of short film 40 minutes in, it has already been said, itself. On the story of the same title by Roald Dahl,The Wonderful Story de Henry Sugar tells the story of a man who managed to see without using his eyes. In truth, the story of the one who tells the story of the one who tells is told… Again, the narration itself is the only possible plot for a cinema that claims to be both bereft of plots and eager to simply tell stories.
Once again, the delicate story of the fakir apprentice played by Ben Kingsley is narrated by the doctor Dev Patel who left it written in a book for me to find Benedict Cumberbatch (Henry Sugar) and he referred it to Ralph Fiennes, which is none other than Roald Dahl in lively conversation with Wes Anderson; a Wes Anderson who, in effect, tells it to us. Who knows, if we are not also Wes Anderson (but without the colored jacket). Again. Again, things happen again. Again, creation is nothing more than re-enactment, and tales tell stories simply because they are told. The narrative is not a fact but an action. We have arrived.