Misfits

 

 

When witches go riding and black cats are seen, the moon laughs and whispers it is Halloween.

 

One single time

 

 

Sabes quantas vezes já me passaste pela ideia? Quantas vezes cruzas a minha memória? Quantas vezes me recordei já de ti? Quantas vezes me lembrei de nós?

Uma.

Uma única vez. Em acto contínuo. É uma lembrança constante. Que não se apaga, que não esmorece. Não é intermitente. Não vai ali esquecer e depois volta. ...

É uma única lembrança. Contínua. Desde o dia que cruzaste a minha mente, não mais te ausentaste. Aqui permaneces.

Uma única vez.

I must deliver

 

"I know your face
Better than my own hands."

 

 

W. B. Yeats, from The Shadowy Waters

 

It's a gentle caress that follows me everywhere

 

 

A impressão de pão com manteiga e brinquedos

De um grande sossego sem Jardins de Prosérpina,

De uma boa-vontade para com a vida encostada de testa à janela,

Num ver chover com som lá fora

E não as lágrimas mortas de custar a engolir.

Baste, sim baste! Sou eu mesmo, o trocado,

O emissário sem carta nem credenciais,

O palhaço sem riso, o bobo com o grande fato de outro,

A quem tinem as campainhas da cabeça

Como chocalhos pequenos de uma servidão em cima.

Sou eu mesmo, a charada sincopada

Que ninguém da roda decifra nos serões de província.

Sou eu mesmo, que remédio! ...

Álvaro de Campos, in "Poemas"

Here my dear

 

 

Do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife
To love, hold and cherish for the rest of your life?

I do, yes I do, I do darlin'
'Cause I love you.

 

P.S- Pretty little thing just about blew my mind; I knew right then and there this is where I wanted to be.

The most dangerous love story ever told

 

 

destino-te a tarefa de me sepultares
no segredo mineral da noite
com um lápis e uma máquina fotográfica

depois
fica atento ao correio
do secular laboratório nocturno enviar-te-ei
devidamente autografado
o retrato da solidão que te pertenceu

e numa encomenda à parte receberás
a revelação desta arte
onde a vida cinzelou o precário corpo
na luz afiada de um vestígio de tinta


al berto

Cine Me

 

 

Mud

 

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1935179/

 

 

http://mud-themovie.com/

 

There's a place where the river opens up into the whole wide world. When you reach it, the horizon expands to infinity, and everything ahead looks impossibly big and uncharted. Jeff Nichols' "Mud," a Mississippi River coming-of-age story, takes place on that threshold, down in the delta where innocence and experience, the past and the future, all run together like dirt and water.

 

"Mud" runs deep with undercurrents from American movies and literature: "Tom Sawyer," "Huckleberry Finn," "The Night of the Hunter," "To Kill a Mockingbird," "Moby Dick," "Cool Hand Luke," the films of Nichols' fellow Austin-resident Terrence Malick ("Badlands," "Days of Heaven," "The Tree of Life"). But the picture never comes unmoored from reality or drifts off into lazy abstraction and cliché. Nichols' eye for particulars, his feel for the characters and landscapes (and waterscapes), is so vivid you feel you could get bit by a mosquito or a water moccasin if you're not careful.

 

Adam Stone's luminous widescreen photography and David Wingo's acoustic swamp music also have a lot to do with that, and so does the casting. McConaughey is on a roll, and this part, which Nichols wrote for him, is the strongest and most subtle lead performance of his career.(Could this be what becomes of Wooderson after he stops messing around with high school girls?) Even better, if that's possible, is young Sheridan (Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain's youngest son in "The Tree of Life"), whose first kiss with a slightly older girl (two grades?) at a beach bonfire is so flawlessly rendered it already feels like it came from a classic movie.

American icon Sam Shepard, another Malick veteran, appears as a houseboat hermit sporting Billy Bob Thornton's haircut from "Sling Blade." Michael Shannon, the magnetic star of Nichols' previous pictures, effortlessly steals scenes as Neck's slacker-diver uncle. (A detail: When we meet Neck he's wearing a faded hand-me-down Fugazi T-shirt that suggests he must live with an older brother or male relative. The moment we see the inside of Uncle Galen's trailer, we have a pretty good idea of where it came from.)
And while Ellis looks like a cross between Atticus Finch's kids Scout and Jem (Mary Badham and Phillip Alford) in Robert Mulligan's "To Kill a Mockingbird," Neckbone is the perfect fusion of River Phoenix and Jerry O'Connell in "Stand by Me". The resonances are all around.

The boy, Tye Sheridan, is mesmerizing. This is really the story of how a teenager, driven by compulsion, puts in time to discover the complex truths and myths about a woman's love.


Mud is a very fine film about innocence, father figures and love, a work that manages to be thrilling, unsentimental and emotionally rewarding. This is, sadly, an all too rare combination in so many films, particularly the other American ones that showed in this year's Cannes competition, making Mud all the more worth the wait.