Madrid, 1987 ...is a two-character story with a verbose discourse on writing, journalism, careerism, aging and politics. Shot mostly within a very constricted space, the story follows an older, celebrated journalist Miguel (José Sacristán) who meets the beautiful and coy journalism-student Angela (María Valverde) to give an interview - but becomes intent upon seducing her. They end up spending time in the most unusual manner ...discussing literature, prose and career trajectories ...gradually divulging little insights into their own selves as we start to understand the old journalist's cynicism and the young protégé's intentions. Written by
Adnan R. Amin
The Breakfast Club for people with something to prove.
I bet a lot pretentious old perverts just like the shriveled old geyser in this movie in spend hours fantasizing about such an encounter. It's a movie that, like its own characters, thinks it's a world apart, even though topic of a may/December relationship has been done to death. Maybe someone should do a story about an older woman and a younger man for a change.
Granted, the dialog is well crafted, but loses its effectiveness when it comes out of the mouth of a character that despite being articulate and well-read, reminds me of a horny Abe Simpson: Extremely old and bored and always willing to give his opinion and life story to anyone who'll listen. But he's also narcissistic and every response he makes to anyone he talks to is interpreted as an opportunity to display his enormous vocabulary and encyclopedic wisdom.
The characters do have some interesting things to say, but they also talk through a variety of topics like they're crossing off a European-art-film-essentials checklist, obviously namedropping writers, artists and poets every step of the way, making me think that the movie was made mostly to stroke the Director's ego and those of his circle of artist friends.
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