Emmylou Harris & The Band - The last Waltz (evangeline).mpg
Everyone has seen this film, and if someone hasn’t, it’s certainly not my fault.
So why add anything to something that has already been told, already heard, already sublimated to the point of becoming ethereal?
We’re talking about a Scorsese who completely identifies with the musicians of ‘The Band’ – now all deceased – capturing their dreamy gazes as they recount their stories, almost not believing in what they themselves have lived.
The goddess Joni providing the backing vocals, backstage, to a completely out-of-it Neil (was there a liaison?), the kicks in the air from Van (The Man) Morrison, the tired eyes of a Neil Diamond who no one remembers anymore, Emmylou’s sublime ballad about Evangelina who had lost her mind on the banks of the raging Mississippi, the self-importance of a Clapton ridiculed by an immense Robbie Robertson who follows him with a solo that once again proves that the homework of someone who thinks they are the best is not always the best.
And then Bobby arrives. Who, without explaining anything, as always justifies it all. Forever Young,
I’m reminded of ‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’ or ‘The Wild Bunch’ and do you know why?
Because there too we talk about an era that has ended, perhaps before it even began.
Everyone has seen this film, and if someone hasn’t, it’s certainly not my fault.
So why add anything to something that has already been told, already heard, already sublimated to the point of becoming ethereal?
We’re talking about a Scorsese who completely identifies with the musicians of ‘The Band’ – now all deceased – capturing their dreamy gazes as they recount their stories, almost not believing in what they themselves have lived.
The goddess Joni providing the backing vocals, backstage, to a completely out-of-it Neil (was there a liaison?), the kicks in the air from Van (The Man) Morrison, the tired eyes of a Neil Diamond who no one remembers anymore, Emmylou’s sublime ballad about Evangelina who had lost her mind on the banks of the raging Mississippi, the self-importance of a Clapton ridiculed by an immense Robbie Robertson who follows him with a solo that once again proves that the homework of someone who thinks they are the best is not always the best.
And then Bobby arrives. Who, without explaining anything, as always justifies it all. Forever Young,
I’m reminded of ‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’ or ‘The Wild Bunch’ and do you know why?
Because there too we talk about an era that has ended, perhaps before it even began.
macmaranza
7 mar
DeRank ™: 18,00
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