Frankie and Johnny

Mie-mi plac filmele care incep cu o iesire din puscarie. Cam toate povestile reusite de pe cind eram si io mai tinar incep cu o iesire din puscarie a vre-unui zarghit ori altuia.

Mie-mi plac filmele din mileniul trecut. Daca reusesti sa treci peste pudibonderia absurda (nici macar uniforma, exista destule exceptii mai fericite sau mai putin fericite, ingrozitoare sau doar ciudatele, incingatoare, aiuritoare sau banale, deconstructiviste, mercantiliste, feministe sau pur si simplu oneste, un pomelnic fara sfirsit) se intinde, vasta, calma, o anumita stare de bine.

O anumita stare de bine dinainte de criza, in care cele mai mari probleme ale societatii civilizate erau departe, prin munti. O anumita stare de bine, de lene calma, de relaxare spirituala a unei lumi in care politicienii n-o luasera razna antonescian, in care razboiul zilnic pentru distrugerea aproapelui se limita pasnic la asuprirea marginalilor si claselor de jos, in care corporatiile existau ca sa-si serveasca nu ca sa-si otraveasca clientii, in care era timp pentru bunastare si chiar incintare. O lume in care inflorea umorul, o lume in care detinutul eliberat nu-i incruntat [sub povara grea a gravei nedreptati ce i se facuse] ci-i ardea de glume cu gardianul, o lume in care gardianul dadea amuzat din mina in loc sa raspunda incruntat [sub povara grea a grelei insulte care ii fusese adresata]. O lume in care oamenii erau inca mult mai capabili sa comunice si - ceea ce-i poate chiar mai important decit simpla comunicare - o lume in care oamenii erau inca capabili sa se inteleaga.

O lume calma tocmai in virtutea imprejurarii ca mai toti isi stiau locul intr-o urzeala pe care mai toti o recunosteau ca superioara lor, vointei lor, sperantelor lor, aspiratiilor lor. Pentru ca da, nu exista pacat mai mare decit sa te pui in centrul lumii dat fiind ca asa o pozitionare subiectiva reclama imperativ niste eforturi in general supraomenesti in fiecare clipita. O lume de oameni mult mai resemnati si pe cale de consecinta mult mai linistiti. O alta lume.

Filmul astaⁱ le are pe amindoua. Semnele viitorului se intrevad insa, democracy is cheamingⁱⁱ. Dinspre New York bineinteles, dintr-o gaura in aer, din sentimentul irealitatii sau mai bine zis a realitatii relativ deplasate. Niste concepte.

Hector Elizondo e un simpatic absolut, nici nu-i de crezut ce bine-i vine rolu' de saormar grec. Pfeiffer e o fata cu ceva sare si indestul piper, chiar daca joaca rolu' unei pizde intolerabile reuseste sa nu devina chiar de tot antipatica. Sigur c-ar fi fost mult mai adecvat sa fie filmu' asta despre cum o incaseaza ea cu cureaua la fundu' gol pe-o dieta de apa si pine goala pina-i trec gargaunii si gargaunele, da' mnoa. E de fapt un fel de echivalent in oglinda al Sea of Love, Pacino nu-i politai, e puscarias, fata nu-i un drac teluric si competent, e o caprita eterata si aiurista, rezultatele-n final tot cam aceleasi.

Merge.

PS. apropo de mai nimic : "Ce zici, sa-l angajez ?" "Da." "De ce ?" "Imi place fata lui.". Doar zic si eu.

1. Frankie and Johnny, 1991, de Garry Marshall cu Al Pacino si Michelle Pfeiffer [↩]
2. It's coming through a hole in the air, from those nights in Tiananmen Square. It's coming from the feel that this ain't exactly real, or it's real, but it ain't exactly there. From the wars against disorder, from the sirens night and day, from the fires of the homeless, from the ashes of the gay: Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

   It's coming through a crack in the wall; on a visionary flood of alcohol; from the staggering account of the Sermon on the Mount which I don't pretend to understand at all. It's coming from the silence on the dock of the bay, from the brave, the bold, the battered heart of Chevrolet: Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

   It's coming from the sorrow in the street, the holy places where the races meet; from the homicidal bitchin' that goes down in every kitchen to determine who will serve and who will eat. From the wells of disappointment where the women kneel to pray for the grace of God in the desert here and the desert far away: Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

   Sail on, sail on O mighty Ship of State! To the Shores of Need Past the Reefs of Greed Through the Squalls of Hate Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.

   It's coming to America first, the cradle of the best and of the worst. It's here they got the range and the machinery for change and it's here they got the spiritual thirst. It's here the family's broken and it's here the lonely say that the heart has got to open in a fundamental way: Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

   It's coming from the women and the men. O baby, we'll be making love again. We'll be going down so deep the river's going to weep, and the mountain's going to shout Amen! It's coming like the tidal flood beneath the lunar sway, imperial, mysterious, in amorous array: Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

   Sail on, sail on ...

   I'm sentimental, if you know what I mean, I love the country but I can't stand the scene. And I'm neither left or right I'm just staying home tonight, getting lost in that hopeless little screen. But I'm stubborn as those garbage bags that Time cannot decay, I'm junk but I'm still holding up this little wild bouquet: Democracy is coming to the U.S.A. [↩]