Sanjuro

Eletto: Is downloading the death of cinema? And what about DVDs that cost 40 or 30 euros when they could cost 8 or 10 if only they removed those ridiculous state expenses? Do you find it reasonable that to access the culture of Fellini, Pasolini, or any other great, one has to bleed their wallet dry for 40 bucks every time? We certainly aren’t the ones killing cinema, artists get, I think, 10 or 15 percent on each DVD or record sold, the rest is gobbled up by people who have nothing to do with art. Good job, Eletto, now go to bed.

But Poletti, why are you telling us all this? Answer, it's a question less stupid than it may seem.

QUOTED. We had Ferreri, the pulp, we launched the cannibal movie with Ruggero Deodato (then stolen by The Blair Witch Project and everyone saying “Ohhh what a genius the director is, such an unusual way of filming” pure idiots just copied from Cannibal Holocaust), the spaghetti western, neorealism...and what about Italian underground cinema? Annabella Miscuglio, Romano Scavolini, Alberto Grifi, Paolo Gioli! And then there’s Argento, Fulci, Aldo Lado, Elio Petri, MARIO BAVAAAA!!! And in the '80s the return to neo-Pasolini with Claudio “Toxic Love” Caligari. And now? I SAY FUCK IT!!!!! And now? What do we have? Muccino’s collaboration with Will “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” Smith? We have no cinema, we’re dead, we’re fucking zombies, we’re in a television amusement park with coitus to raise Rai Uno’s boxes for 500,000 euros. Here I connect back to Vic: enough of this shitty social stuff, this literature for umbrellas, but where the hell has gone the backbone that allowed us to churn out genius after genius after genius? And so many giving 4 and 5 to Scamarcio... Grotesque.

Quotatemiiii alllllllllll

AHAH :) In my opinion, there are fantastic parts like "Queen made their masterpiece in 1986 when carried by all the people and their fans after the Wembley concert." I really like the concept of the fan, those arena fools with real stadium clowns following them. Always be wary of those who listen to Queen, what stratospheric crap. Freddy Mercury had a bunch of idiots following him and he was as flamboyant as that guy from Rai Uno who lifts the boxes. Grotesque like few others, it's no coincidence that people loved him right away; he was the carnival face that every idiot in the crowd wanted. Queen clowns.

You bet, and when I can, I will become a director right in your face ahahhahah

5. Perhaps the greatest Italian of all time. We had Ferreri, the pulp, we launched the cannibal movie with Ruggero Deodato (later pilfered by The Blair Witch Project and everyone saying "Ohhh but what a genius the director, what an unusual way of filming" - pure idiots copied from Cannibal Holocaust), the spaghetti western, neorealism... and what about Italian underground cinema? Annabella Miscuglio, Romano Scavolini, Alberto Grifi, Paolo Gioli! And then there’s Argento, Fulci, Aldo Lado, Elio Petri, MARIO BAVA!!! And in the '80s the return to neo-Pasolini with Claudio "Toxic Love" Caligari. And now? I SAY FUCK IT!!!!! And now? What do we have? Muccino's collaboration with Will "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" Smith? We don’t have cinema, we’re dead, we’re fucking zombies, we’re in a television amusement park with coitus lifting Rai Uno’s 500,000 euro boxes. Here I connect with Vic: enough of this shitty social stuff, this beach umbrella literature, but where the fuck has the backbone gone that allowed us to churn out genius after genius after genius? And so many giving 4s and 5s to Scamarcio... Grotesque.

Young master Nino Rottermaier and Fellini... I think I’m going to write a review on 8½, as long as they don’t ban me.

The problem lies in the fact that communication is purely relative. If I read in a middle school diary "Tvtrb sei troppo carino mario i Love You," this won't communicate anything to me, but it will communicate a great deal to the two people involved. Thus, there is nothing a priori more exciting than anything else, but there are many sensor-like individuals who will arbitrarily perceive emotion wherever they wish (also influenced by their background). If we consider it in terms of "communicative quantity," then Eros Ramazzotti, with his clear, elementary, easy lyrics, should be more deserving than any unknown good singer-songwriter. Speaking of the "greatest possible balance between a form that conveys communication and personality, uniqueness" is, in my opinion, like talking about nothing. What is personality, uniqueness, and what is communication itself? These are values attributed, Pirandellianly, in completely different ways from one individual to another. Paolo Meneguzzi will be a monster of uniqueness for the kids, but this is neither true nor false a priori: it is true for them. Lynch communicates a lot to me, for example. I increasingly think that art is FORM. And I’m not talking about the parlor form of pathetic groups like Dream Theater or similar. If we think about it, meanings are cyclical; the same emotions return eternally: hate, love, fear, confusion, joy; the only real artistic diversification lies in the signifier, in the "how," not in the "what" is being said. Because the same has been said for millennia—Catullus is in love like Leonard Cohen and Propertius like Mark Sandman; theirs is a struggle to flavor the eternal human drive toward female attachment. Take Burroughs, you can read twenty pages and not understand anything of what happens, so thick is it with twisted and "misleading" adjectives, yet you remain petrified by his brain, by his ability to make the mellifluous organic, by his ability to make nothing substantial. Okay, easy, I’m stepping back because I'm about to enter the most Ungarettian hermeticism at the expense of narrative, ciauuuuu.

The classic enjoyable film with some good ideas, delightful.