This begins one of (hopefully) many serial posts with little else other than a photo of my beloved brother-in-law’s face giving a synopsis of my thoughts and feelings about a film. While one might prefer to “review” films oneself rather than interpret the conclusions of another about them, it’s the interpretation aspect that we presently find the most fun. Capable of subtlety and master of the satiric deadpan, not to mention one who deeply enjoys being on the flash end of a camera lens, my brother-in-law (who will remain nameless) is the ideal candidate for an utterly ridiculous tradition of this sort. That I have not encountered a practice like it anywhere else is undoubtedly due less to our originality than to the aversion of others to exhibit their complete lack of shame before the e-world. Also, this series seems fitting on account of the all-too-prevalent tendency among “film” people to take themselves far too seriously, pretentiously preferring to keep cinema within a realm of chin-rubbing, navel-gazing, prose-worshiping snobbery. To counteract that temptation here (which, admittedly, it is), please enjoy the following abstract of Pedro Almodóvar’s Volver (to which there are some verbal comments here):
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