This movie dissipated much of my disgust at bull fighting.
To make a good movie about bull fighting one should first contract a great matador: and Miguel Mateo Miguelin could hardly be braver or more graceful. I saw the movie despite my modern distaste for that ahem sport: and was at least semi-converted. In ancient northern religions, with their male animal gods, the animal god presents himself to the people to be ritually slaughtered. The ritual must be beautiful. The ritual must be risky: potentially fatal for the killing-man-priest as well as for the animal-god. Migueline shows how it's done when it's done right.
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