tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52716182466881644812024-03-18T22:01:39.163-07:00zinémablogJavier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.comBlogger126125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-50856000282963524072012-08-23T10:19:00.002-07:002012-08-23T10:19:24.838-07:00san quentin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYK16Di7HGJqpuLdBaWlI2I7-oP80Xlstkf_ooRPTLqwoWFTFafzgvYMEE7wBn-Vedyp1pA439EIBdyL00D594fwL71Rs1MCQLcW6BJPa-OcW4pBKff-sy-YV67dWEQdtn9R_R3ZcbLus/s1600/san_quintin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYK16Di7HGJqpuLdBaWlI2I7-oP80Xlstkf_ooRPTLqwoWFTFafzgvYMEE7wBn-Vedyp1pA439EIBdyL00D594fwL71Rs1MCQLcW6BJPa-OcW4pBKff-sy-YV67dWEQdtn9R_R3ZcbLus/s400/san_quintin.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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El castigo ejemplar, <b><i>el castigo de la soledad</i></b>.</div>
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"<b>SAN QUENTIN</b>" (1937) (<b>Lloyd <i>BACON</i></b>)</div>
<br />Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-62810242267869525162012-08-23T10:17:00.000-07:002012-08-23T10:17:32.008-07:00dr. cyclops<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxil5gWazKP5Br3ZvFhrG_KErJqrlWIY0f2JcPZmwWyD5BI6ECt-SlKYGWfMLJDDECMevwpOstqlY89qOB3Epa1cVix0CcX_nIsRHBPC5QOsgaEfvwTU1fFWfcbW5AZqfiXv2VqFdbkc/s1600/dr_cyclops.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxil5gWazKP5Br3ZvFhrG_KErJqrlWIY0f2JcPZmwWyD5BI6ECt-SlKYGWfMLJDDECMevwpOstqlY89qOB3Epa1cVix0CcX_nIsRHBPC5QOsgaEfvwTU1fFWfcbW5AZqfiXv2VqFdbkc/s400/dr_cyclops.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<i>"- En nuestras manos tenemos la fuerza cósmica de la creación. Con nuestras manos podemos dar forma a la vida, separarla y volver a unirla, moldearla como masilla.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>- ¡Pero eso es una locura! ¡Es diabólico! ¡Está jugando con poderes reservados a dios!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>- Eso es bueno. Muy bueno. Es precisamente lo que estoy haciendo."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"<b>DR. CYCLOPS</b>" (1940) (<b>Ernest B. <i>SHOEDSACK</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-66937414895248540492012-08-23T10:15:00.001-07:002012-08-23T10:15:03.934-07:00zona profunda<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRlDsZFgUnUZYSPjMlWJSXdfD5HDI4nhicWM0Rf7Hf1H9psXCqwDnqh3Y_TTU7MT0kHK9imZT0bvpBO1U7LS0GnKAKNcPkij5xyxIiTix9WGB1deVzGOr1U_pwIFxS4mvZUH1eZ_z8N4c/s1600/deep_end.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRlDsZFgUnUZYSPjMlWJSXdfD5HDI4nhicWM0Rf7Hf1H9psXCqwDnqh3Y_TTU7MT0kHK9imZT0bvpBO1U7LS0GnKAKNcPkij5xyxIiTix9WGB1deVzGOr1U_pwIFxS4mvZUH1eZ_z8N4c/s400/deep_end.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Bajo el agua,<i> el mundo de las ilusiones, de los deseos...</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"<b>DEEP END</b>" (1971) (<b>Jerzy <i>SKOLIMOWSKI</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-19876684889382110022012-08-23T10:09:00.000-07:002012-08-23T10:09:06.784-07:00a hierro muere<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyUjH2Da71SDuqY1ofBoloyMFIeRpjo5VFMUEP_L_4BA6b7H2C3Gjdqo3biSxQ82lPmtT4aKz7ObiyIXS0yrcN2gPI6w7l9-hYV6Z_nHlxYFgumEAJxCydiGiWEqkardIg1j8qDMcsbDg/s1600/a_hierro_muere.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyUjH2Da71SDuqY1ofBoloyMFIeRpjo5VFMUEP_L_4BA6b7H2C3Gjdqo3biSxQ82lPmtT4aKz7ObiyIXS0yrcN2gPI6w7l9-hYV6Z_nHlxYFgumEAJxCydiGiWEqkardIg1j8qDMcsbDg/s400/a_hierro_muere.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
"<i>Estoy seguro que a cualquiera le gusta un buen crimen, siempre que no sea la víctima.</i>"<br />
<br />
(<b>ALFRED HITCHCOCK</b>)<br />
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"<b>A HIERRO MUERE</b>" (1970) (<b>Manuel <i>MUR OTI</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-4045634213404209822012-08-23T10:05:00.001-07:002012-08-23T10:11:46.226-07:00la imagen errante<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCCUKYUwfRfjx-OnnDQb-NnUCbc62f4anFP611pQhqltOn_Ow4E-v_3ymoQi6HRVw5GM4g7_ivA5Z24cnUxBkjEl57yPAC2_Wabkvq4JrMLDNmfJArAWUN9V3vHPSAoGYJYPsc-fCGZgM/s1600/la_imagen_errante.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCCUKYUwfRfjx-OnnDQb-NnUCbc62f4anFP611pQhqltOn_Ow4E-v_3ymoQi6HRVw5GM4g7_ivA5Z24cnUxBkjEl57yPAC2_Wabkvq4JrMLDNmfJArAWUN9V3vHPSAoGYJYPsc-fCGZgM/s400/la_imagen_errante.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>"- Qué doblar de campanas tan exquisito.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>- Hay una antigua leyenda al respecto. Los moradores de la planicie dicen que es la muerte la que hace sonar las campanas, pero nadie sabe dónde suenan."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"<b>DAS WANDERNDE BILD</b>" (1920) (<b>Fritz <i>LANG</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-29308016048546815372012-08-23T10:01:00.001-07:002012-08-23T10:01:06.715-07:00el confidente<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimtbd6-CSp6cpreOUc01XZg0sm35rTcNV7vAEMTWQyGZT6DfXnXTj5Bmb7T4oh0ECIwVimi3ZQ58lE892NG3QMaZYND3LkXOvsP9rW81pI8bgaiZMloP4gC-EcEalBEsPqzP1PUvtsjwM/s1600/el_confidente.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimtbd6-CSp6cpreOUc01XZg0sm35rTcNV7vAEMTWQyGZT6DfXnXTj5Bmb7T4oh0ECIwVimi3ZQ58lE892NG3QMaZYND3LkXOvsP9rW81pI8bgaiZMloP4gC-EcEalBEsPqzP1PUvtsjwM/s400/el_confidente.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>El héroe, aferrándose a un clavo ardiendo</i>, a una muerte segura. Y todo, con honor. <b><i>Honor de ladrón</i></b>.<br />
<br />
"<b>THE FRIENDS OF EDDIE COYLE</b>" (1973) (<b>Peter <i>YATES</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-72331186625587314172012-08-23T09:55:00.000-07:002012-08-23T09:55:33.705-07:00sin sol<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhius25A-CcPm0XRIZfSH_-tZb929ed4emb266voudjE4kC8X_qCm8YNsKA49soz1bZg6qGmgAaNptQ0PAe3B9djciTdeH0Ib1AKR2EnZco7BD8WLCMCoPkCI262xcJNdCscleMX-duHDg/s1600/sin_sol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhius25A-CcPm0XRIZfSH_-tZb929ed4emb266voudjE4kC8X_qCm8YNsKA49soz1bZg6qGmgAaNptQ0PAe3B9djciTdeH0Ib1AKR2EnZco7BD8WLCMCoPkCI262xcJNdCscleMX-duHDg/s400/sin_sol.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
De una idea, a otra idea. <i>De un gato, a una mirada. <b>De una reflexión, a un pensamiento</b></i>.<br />
<br />
"<b>SANS SOLEIL</b>" (1983) (<b>Chris <i>MARKER</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-21390183975723496522012-08-23T09:51:00.001-07:002012-08-23T09:51:48.972-07:00cannabis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSfiJGUAZG0c-OQFbpc4oipf7kETL_vsiTmP7HEcp5nQ8IcpEX6jjavE4PRykAuyA9GkP2084G36hwY9v2h8FYxOeQi3wdrPsnEsuUL5odaX-X3GGI-8K6YnaOJncHjyGzc0718mFNfpk/s1600/cannabis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSfiJGUAZG0c-OQFbpc4oipf7kETL_vsiTmP7HEcp5nQ8IcpEX6jjavE4PRykAuyA9GkP2084G36hwY9v2h8FYxOeQi3wdrPsnEsuUL5odaX-X3GGI-8K6YnaOJncHjyGzc0718mFNfpk/s400/cannabis.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>"(...)Y ahora está muerto. ¿Y qué? Siempre me digo a mí mismo que ya estoy muerto. Por eso soy tan tranquilo."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"<b>CANNABIS</b>" (1970) (<b>Pierre <i>KORALNIK</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-27877319255108112792012-07-08T12:14:00.001-07:002012-07-08T12:14:23.462-07:00viaje a darjeeling<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6IrzLgtnjblDLa7VLbBox5hk37mRZRuZp6xxicYIcYdHDmvfNxE4AvJRVtpZs335pDRcsLEzSJvAlAI47E8x1B44SDnTdtb_2hsgflcWVKsBuafnZYl08SqKTfgVPNogufA-7XwPHQz0/s1600/viaje_a_darjeeling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6IrzLgtnjblDLa7VLbBox5hk37mRZRuZp6xxicYIcYdHDmvfNxE4AvJRVtpZs335pDRcsLEzSJvAlAI47E8x1B44SDnTdtb_2hsgflcWVKsBuafnZYl08SqKTfgVPNogufA-7XwPHQz0/s400/viaje_a_darjeeling.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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La vida se nos escapa a veces. No podemos parar. Tenemos que atraparla, dominarla. <b><i>Hay que vivir</i></b>.<br />
<br />
"<b>THE DARJEELING LIMITED</b>" (2007) (<b>Wes <i>ANDERSON</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-88670440699681663022012-07-08T12:11:00.004-07:002012-07-08T12:11:57.912-07:00la ley de la calle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX-jaosvRXhghRDmzUSfyeunmwNSXOWEoOLoqHuuU9efyGI-6K2CBH7rohsvbfXfbmqCq46O3LK_efV0NCVN0GL-6fQ_Tc4nu7zhPrcS4UwDT4D6TPCW34tMnC3xu9axJF6-PyBY7buSw/s1600/la_ley_de_la_calle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX-jaosvRXhghRDmzUSfyeunmwNSXOWEoOLoqHuuU9efyGI-6K2CBH7rohsvbfXfbmqCq46O3LK_efV0NCVN0GL-6fQ_Tc4nu7zhPrcS4UwDT4D6TPCW34tMnC3xu9axJF6-PyBY7buSw/s400/la_ley_de_la_calle.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
<b><i>Aquellos eran tiempos salvajes</i></b>, tiempos calurosos. Había leyendas, mitologías. Y siempre acechaba la cruda <span style="background-color: white;">realidad, envidiosa de aquellos tiempos salvajes.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
"<b>RUMBLE FISH</b>" (1983) (<b>Francis <i>FORD COPPOLA</i></b>)<br />Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-58926971413310746152012-07-08T11:55:00.001-07:002012-07-08T11:55:18.796-07:00en la ciudad de sylvia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMSEDOCm4o1yp0ke9hxQGov0AGzlK9odg3vUDFwyPT1IM3FqOMP0SM6UI5Xz7lcCBYTu9CDVT-Cgu87b-h5iHyss_90sLLJar6zRHypBgUzgfyeuCtWr_tWBlXK1sKHnnbabdx94KvbU/s1600/en_la_ciudad_de_sylvia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMSEDOCm4o1yp0ke9hxQGov0AGzlK9odg3vUDFwyPT1IM3FqOMP0SM6UI5Xz7lcCBYTu9CDVT-Cgu87b-h5iHyss_90sLLJar6zRHypBgUzgfyeuCtWr_tWBlXK1sKHnnbabdx94KvbU/s400/en_la_ciudad_de_sylvia.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
El objeto de nuestros sueños. Caminando entre las venas de un maravilloso cuerpo,<b><i> una ciudad sin nombre</i></b>.<br />
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"<b>EN LA CIUDAD DE SYLVIA</b>" (2007) (<b>José Luis <i>GUERÍN</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-24069095362585414482012-07-08T11:53:00.000-07:002012-07-08T11:53:06.562-07:00el diablo ataca de noche<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9z7_k5JF3NAA2aw0qsXkVjUuF41ve3TLrnOvEhyphenhyphenUMXc4idDryKqEbgYgriNOfZQt16n71C2gKkgcZG16q6XOVBUwOY2ief0zGUZ7_wGZACf9fGlfglorrv0f9uNNFn3Ij-ZbRgupIImQ/s1600/el_diablo_ataca_de_noche.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9z7_k5JF3NAA2aw0qsXkVjUuF41ve3TLrnOvEhyphenhyphenUMXc4idDryKqEbgYgriNOfZQt16n71C2gKkgcZG16q6XOVBUwOY2ief0zGUZ7_wGZACf9fGlfglorrv0f9uNNFn3Ij-ZbRgupIImQ/s400/el_diablo_ataca_de_noche.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
El hombre se oculta, acecha.<i style="font-weight: bold;"> No piensa</i>.<i style="font-weight: bold;"> Ataca</i>.<br />
<br />
"<b>NACHTS, WENN DER TEUFEL KAM</b>" (1957) (<b>Robert <i>SIODMAK</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-13759639289367316852012-07-08T11:50:00.003-07:002012-07-08T11:50:38.802-07:00infierno blanco<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZDniYKJHBzuvPhl4veIuuSNh_tlZ0d0nTSaok5RxERlFNahxbvLfmtsJnCzwszhZVpXO9n5cLyyoFFYWp1_AThUnHlSWeAxkFi0QGOLagwfnYZbNCfsxJeDpVK6PPQ-ObsjUw8Yz2mk/s1600/infierno_blanco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZDniYKJHBzuvPhl4veIuuSNh_tlZ0d0nTSaok5RxERlFNahxbvLfmtsJnCzwszhZVpXO9n5cLyyoFFYWp1_AThUnHlSWeAxkFi0QGOLagwfnYZbNCfsxJeDpVK6PPQ-ObsjUw8Yz2mk/s400/infierno_blanco.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<i>"Una vez más a la contienda,</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>al último buen combate que libraré.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>Vivir y morir este día.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>Vivir y morir este día."</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
"<b>THE GREY</b>" (2011) (<b>Joen <i>CARNAHAN</i></b>)<br />Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-21258710705818666722012-07-08T11:48:00.003-07:002012-07-08T11:48:39.742-07:00barren illusions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhq2UI_8DmqQKs0tMrM8Qd_E8QHIuoXGWHAwNBS3U67U9mamiAKtKUnT2KQugOOryps39SwPI3ukCaKzXu0yphpBkoofir30OulnReAuepw93vRYSYPpU8LoBgTEdN36Jpq_Owsn1vWI/s1600/barren_illusions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhq2UI_8DmqQKs0tMrM8Qd_E8QHIuoXGWHAwNBS3U67U9mamiAKtKUnT2KQugOOryps39SwPI3ukCaKzXu0yphpBkoofir30OulnReAuepw93vRYSYPpU8LoBgTEdN36Jpq_Owsn1vWI/s400/barren_illusions.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
"<i>Es como si estuviéramos perdidos, desmembrados.</i>"<br />
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"<b>ÔINARU GEN'EI</b>" (1999) (<b>Kiyoshi <i>KUROSAWA</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-25793845642760106042012-07-08T11:46:00.002-07:002012-07-08T11:46:35.855-07:00nashville<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3Ecwa8tBZM1DE3_7No-Cz02pc1HSOecqpOPiQRZVEDhelGWO6rF1-Vx_l3CvSYKXQ2Esx7wjgnXYKkm7DN5uuVnAIsdFfzPr72lpjOSmaw3VpEV546gMEXWCfCQXvX28zktnt6hJmgs/s1600/nashville.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3Ecwa8tBZM1DE3_7No-Cz02pc1HSOecqpOPiQRZVEDhelGWO6rF1-Vx_l3CvSYKXQ2Esx7wjgnXYKkm7DN5uuVnAIsdFfzPr72lpjOSmaw3VpEV546gMEXWCfCQXvX28zktnt6hJmgs/s400/nashville.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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"<i>Tú, córtate el pelo. Tú no eres de Nashville.</i>"<br />
<br />
"<b>NASHVILLE</b>" (1975) (<b>Robert <i>ALTMAN</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-83122617083052947432012-07-08T11:44:00.001-07:002012-07-08T11:44:13.983-07:00la pointe courte<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5iCu2WGgUKYkoKml16cay876w9HBu9k8z33fdeh2gdTIr5wXqhBewkdwqzqSsIG1OsEEJ0HSMFPgR-_xLyXv25FEIfeuy9SCIrzV01JjhVPyi0FCj9E7Ja6HuqJ99-croDiZsUN0CzSI/s1600/la_pointe_courte.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5iCu2WGgUKYkoKml16cay876w9HBu9k8z33fdeh2gdTIr5wXqhBewkdwqzqSsIG1OsEEJ0HSMFPgR-_xLyXv25FEIfeuy9SCIrzV01JjhVPyi0FCj9E7Ja6HuqJ99-croDiZsUN0CzSI/s400/la_pointe_courte.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>La cámara</b>. Nuestros ojos. <b><i>Testigos de la realidad</i></b>.<br />
<br />
"<b>LA POINTE COURTE</b>" (1954) (<b>Agnès <i>VARDA</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-68557446808005376142012-07-08T11:42:00.002-07:002012-07-08T11:42:17.718-07:00la isla de los muertos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOY6X19EIA7vmJRV74Ph5pUqZkzS9ifUvN_WqqSEu32edrvh7kpQFUVWcD0UDY11CBEtjysKIgcj7ua5MOhyphenhyphenF0WO0BAP1H0CG5fwSTe8-ozs6yRi-V9mtzoXxfzr6HCE7sSSvZmjAj7E/s1600/la_isla_de_los_muertos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuOY6X19EIA7vmJRV74Ph5pUqZkzS9ifUvN_WqqSEu32edrvh7kpQFUVWcD0UDY11CBEtjysKIgcj7ua5MOhyphenhyphenF0WO0BAP1H0CG5fwSTe8-ozs6yRi-V9mtzoXxfzr6HCE7sSSvZmjAj7E/s320/la_isla_de_los_muertos.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
...y el hombre llegará a la isla, donde <b style="font-style: italic;">los vivos temen</b>.<b style="font-style: italic;"> Y los muertos, triunfan</b>.<br />
<br />
"<b>ISLE OF THE DEAD</b>" (1945) (<b>Mark <i>ROBSON</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-17360056657600429762012-07-08T11:39:00.002-07:002012-07-08T11:39:41.491-07:00two lovers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMDasXK-rYf81WemRecnxdcXzLejgAizr7SYV8eRxXujTIVMITqHdZFtzpmyZ5uxsSxRyUGAapD1QFYxwamo4vwqFetgk1kAG0u6rjpjTEUYiCrrYbR5tCBgjB8MH6Nz-wMVjh9HKxmRU/s1600/two_lovers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMDasXK-rYf81WemRecnxdcXzLejgAizr7SYV8eRxXujTIVMITqHdZFtzpmyZ5uxsSxRyUGAapD1QFYxwamo4vwqFetgk1kAG0u6rjpjTEUYiCrrYbR5tCBgjB8MH6Nz-wMVjh9HKxmRU/s400/two_lovers.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Ellos, <b>recuerdos</b>. Personas pasadas. <b><i>Testigos de historias, de amores perdidos y triunfantes</i></b>.<br />
<br />
"<b>TWO LOVERS</b>" (2008) (<b>James <i>GRAY</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-51872076492482873272012-07-08T11:37:00.000-07:002012-07-08T11:37:14.784-07:00double suicide<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcjC7NC8COKStgxeEkqVlThy7-w4grutEXZGJXW5t2vbNEG3L8ANvGKp88uso1MpBcgLnRB6ZdtWaIpLoHK7HPQhVO2pUZNceKPyTARPsgbQ9Q9RwF_70dweBMOZk7jJgi6i0ldxaUuOI/s1600/double_suicide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcjC7NC8COKStgxeEkqVlThy7-w4grutEXZGJXW5t2vbNEG3L8ANvGKp88uso1MpBcgLnRB6ZdtWaIpLoHK7HPQhVO2pUZNceKPyTARPsgbQ9Q9RwF_70dweBMOZk7jJgi6i0ldxaUuOI/s400/double_suicide.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Marionetas a las ordenes de los sentimientos. Muñecos con un <b><i>tráfico final</i></b>.<br />
<br />
"<b>SHINJÛ: TEN NO AMIJIMA</b>" (1969) (<b>Masahiro <i>SHINODA</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-55082971008535572042012-06-05T11:57:00.003-07:002012-06-05T11:57:36.018-07:00las furias<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh84m0k_6kFf4BzXKORH8iKQblwGmXR_5BXVIIdvDRNMhHAdlOtX44viVOYzPweQoAs8ZbjUbxFkw-pBed7_dRx_vGdlSIC2ZoVYvukkZXcp-ehZrAI5p0N-uk1oPoxfoEV5w_WsnVwN3I/s1600/las_furias.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh84m0k_6kFf4BzXKORH8iKQblwGmXR_5BXVIIdvDRNMhHAdlOtX44viVOYzPweQoAs8ZbjUbxFkw-pBed7_dRx_vGdlSIC2ZoVYvukkZXcp-ehZrAI5p0N-uk1oPoxfoEV5w_WsnVwN3I/s400/las_furias.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
...y la furia y el despecho hacen que <b><i>el corazón sea fuerte, impetuoso</i></b>.<br />
<br />
"<b>THE FURIES</b>" (1950) (<b>Anthony <i>MANN</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-75793529984248163782012-06-05T11:55:00.002-07:002012-06-05T11:56:01.510-07:00cold weather<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVQBppgwmyTclpnjzUk_nD529SBqoxBMgg-Xi5W3DdxHuiaUW2J8pdws-KhALAP6F7q1s2OO_KSta6gqLEkqoeiZlfbmhlls99z9wrFxBaVoJn9PSnrKE3hG1gIFRzLneGg0TZisUbldE/s1600/cold_weather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVQBppgwmyTclpnjzUk_nD529SBqoxBMgg-Xi5W3DdxHuiaUW2J8pdws-KhALAP6F7q1s2OO_KSta6gqLEkqoeiZlfbmhlls99z9wrFxBaVoJn9PSnrKE3hG1gIFRzLneGg0TZisUbldE/s400/cold_weather.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Los cientos de millones de caminos por recorrer. <i>Pero solo se elige uno.</i><br />
<i><b>O ninguno</b>.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
"<b>COLD WEATHER</b>" (2010) (<b>Aaron <i>KATZ</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-18746925129814161962012-06-05T11:53:00.000-07:002012-06-05T11:53:09.827-07:00puente de varsovia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJvpcvvz2NyhYBFgld4W9Ea1nRioyfw3jXylJjUNZ2g0dC-inHlvap7OahuzY7ScAYjz9r0ZNm6IJ1vsOso5LiNihIFkrgqLYAtyCIwIG5D83JyJGaApNlwsgzrgTBXvRsWlsXZwOHyyg/s1600/puente_de_varsovia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJvpcvvz2NyhYBFgld4W9Ea1nRioyfw3jXylJjUNZ2g0dC-inHlvap7OahuzY7ScAYjz9r0ZNm6IJ1vsOso5LiNihIFkrgqLYAtyCIwIG5D83JyJGaApNlwsgzrgTBXvRsWlsXZwOHyyg/s400/puente_de_varsovia.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Todos reían, disertaban sobre la grácil liviandad de las cosas. Pero a cientos de kilómetros, o a escasos metros, <b><i>todo ya estaba resquebrajado</i></b>.<br />
<br />
"<b>PONT DE VARSÒVIA</b>" (1990) (<b>Pere <i>PORTABELLA</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-40112300428710817132012-06-05T11:51:00.000-07:002012-06-05T11:51:09.631-07:00la mujer pirata<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW8CZuNo3VCRfV156cEz-Xh3ByUVQcf9jE-a8loqAKTYqC_qucqZ-tUiWTGskPbCM_2p-Zg4QxZr406YK7GHKjrE-QR4cgfFhoX1fwrb3Om1gHPsmbgFC-v6M6IirEaEBEnbsM1y1kk1Q/s1600/la_mujer_pirata.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW8CZuNo3VCRfV156cEz-Xh3ByUVQcf9jE-a8loqAKTYqC_qucqZ-tUiWTGskPbCM_2p-Zg4QxZr406YK7GHKjrE-QR4cgfFhoX1fwrb3Om1gHPsmbgFC-v6M6IirEaEBEnbsM1y1kk1Q/s400/la_mujer_pirata.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Ella, la más <b>valiente</b> de todas...la más <b>enamorada</b>..<i>.<b>la más desgraciada</b></i>.<br />
<br />
"<b>ANNE OF THE INDIES</b>" (1951) (<b>Jacques <i>TOURNEUR</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-5077423923585647122012-06-05T11:48:00.004-07:002012-06-05T11:48:58.659-07:00el halcón y la flecha<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FYxoxhGI0bmdITwebRf35SdZFTV70ba7UeCZRaUYK6NnN6LV7ddpQGKe6eMHjr7In4hS6ty-QVo9PqnRlfRKJB1FtnqJY0-R9HpWEfpMBaBFDmMBdlhJ00G50uoiQhQUhP4vqwhrpu8/s1600/el_halc%C3%B3n_y_la_flecha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FYxoxhGI0bmdITwebRf35SdZFTV70ba7UeCZRaUYK6NnN6LV7ddpQGKe6eMHjr7In4hS6ty-QVo9PqnRlfRKJB1FtnqJY0-R9HpWEfpMBaBFDmMBdlhJ00G50uoiQhQUhP4vqwhrpu8/s400/el_halc%C3%B3n_y_la_flecha.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Salto, voltereta, cabriola...<b><i>aventura!</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b><br />
<b>"THE FLAME AND THE ARROW" (1950) (<i>Jacques TOURNEUR</i>)</b><br />
<br />Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5271618246688164481.post-13661820873997971372012-06-05T11:46:00.002-07:002012-06-05T11:46:54.695-07:00attenberg<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19GbDBeOe0hugkLJqsP3bcgKxLdcCRcP8-z5AgkJw7epQSYw8lCj5aejAe3_y3de65JrMhtSt4LGFRk1wfUwcXus71IjRB0tiapmPYSMI0SAXMrQ8zD2nEm4Y40J3FErM_veIw1B4O30/s1600/attenberg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19GbDBeOe0hugkLJqsP3bcgKxLdcCRcP8-z5AgkJw7epQSYw8lCj5aejAe3_y3de65JrMhtSt4LGFRk1wfUwcXus71IjRB0tiapmPYSMI0SAXMrQ8zD2nEm4Y40J3FErM_veIw1B4O30/s400/attenberg.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<i>"- ¿Te gustó?</i><br />
<i>- Nunca antes había tenido algo retorciéndose en mi boca.</i><br />
<i>- ¿Cómo se siente mi lengua?</i><br />
<i>- Como una babosa. Es asqueroso.</i><br />
<i>- Debes respirar, o te ahogarás."</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
"<b>ATTENBERG</b>" (2010) (<b>Athina Rachel <i>TSANGARI</i></b>)Javier Acedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00742959452546185077noreply@blogger.com0