Antipromo
Before writing the first draft of the script for Timecrimes , but with a more or less rough outline of the whole thing, I already knew what my favorite trick in the entire film would be, should it ever get made. It takes very little time for the story to pit the protagonist against a masked villain. Since we know we're dealing with a time-travel story, the suspicion is obvious: it's the same character, confronting himself as a result of a reckless trip to the past. And that's why one of them has to cover himself with bandages, so that neither his opponent nor the audience discovers that the same face is hidden underneath. In short, I'd have to spend the entire film diverting the audience's attention however I could. But there was another trick! The tingle of perverse pleasure came from knowing that the viewer would sense that this mystery hovering between two characters would be the crux of the matter. The tingle of perverse pleasure came from knowing that thirty minutes in , bang! The mask would fall off, and we would discover that underneath, indeed, lurks the beloved Karra Elejalde himself. In other words, the mystery unravels much sooner than expected, and the viewer is left disoriented, with no idea what will happen in the remaining hour. Possibly my favorite feeling in a movie theater .
Well, for twenty years I haven't stopped reading and hearing that the film, with or without its virtues, is guilty of being predictable because it's obvious who's hiding under the blindfolds! In some way I can't quite explain, for many viewers and critics, the revelation of that mysterious mystery vampirizes the memory of the film , as if it were the final scene.
We're warned in advance that if we want to survive as filmmakers, we have to know how to handle rejection and the indifference of others . With Timecrimes, I experienced a lot of both, and with each passing year, it becomes easier for me to understand that tastes (of the viewer, of the moment, of the place) are what they are, and it's beautiful to adapt to them as well as challenge them. What I can't resolve is the frustration with the short circuits and blackouts that, as a filmmaker, do I cause or suffer? It's a very unpleasant question because both possible answers are equally malignant. And age plays against you here, because you don't want to grow old believing you're smarter than others, but you also don't want to be paralyzed by the fear of the prevailing attention deficit.
And why am I telling you this? Because I'm having a new release! It's about Daniela Forever and Superstar , a film and a series, both genre films—blah! —and since my modesty prevents me from using this column to sing their praises, I've decided to do the exact opposite of what's expected of a film director in the promotion phase: write a vulnerable, victim-like, and unsympathetic confession.
elmundo
