Guillermo Arriaga
The burning plain - Il confine della solitudine

The Four Elements.

I didn't know the film; I didn't know who the director was. Not until the end credits. Just a suspicion during the viewing. It felt like watching a film I'd seen before. To glimpse in the frames the style of a film I'd already watched. "21 GRAMS"? Yes! Maybe! But I wasn't sure! Only when the first credits rolled did I realize, did I know for sure whose adamantine talent it was. Guillermo Arriaga's. A slow and sorrowful narration, flowing, almost in real-time (like Michael Mann, if you know what I mean); a wise and precise use of flashbacks; the pain of living seeping from the scenes and the faces of the actors (all talented: some known, others less so); characters narrating their lives without outcries, almost passively, yet with rare effectiveness. By the film's end, you feel like you know everything about them. And then, the geographical contrast between north and south; between the rain and the humidity that seeps into your bones of an ever-weeping Portland and the blinding sun, the dust, and the dryness of the distant New Mexico, far from everything, with no remedy. A great film. Films like this are rare commodities. Especially today, especially on television.

A MUST-SEE!