I think the biggest mistake that a viewer can commit is to groped to understand everything , to explain the steps word for word, to search logic, or at least plausibility in each sequence. By doing so, he ends up reducing the film to a mere explanation of the events, a mechanical process, mathematically cold, forgetting the only important thing: the soul the film. And it is the same, identical thing in life: how many days, weeks, autumns spent in trying to understand something, to give a logical explanation. Logical explanation, what that means? Those who live according to this theory is more concerned to understand that to me, does it make sense at all, a reason and a name to everything, but most of all, he wants to give it to himself. The questions that haunt him are: "Who am I?" "What am I doing here?", "What is my purpose, my reason for living?". Thus, the life of this category of viewers and, in parallel, one of these people is experienced only in search of this meaning. But the sense of many things often (Almost always) does not exist, and then these people who live longer, reduces it to a puzzle, problem to be solved, a brainy math unknown. Then one day, these men and women can finally replace the "x" with a real number, find a way to make eligible all sequences of a film and meaningful daily events. But next to this discovery, they find something else, a far more painful and oppressive emptiness of those who leave the "x" mysterious: the absence of life. Only now that bind the strong long-awaited solution, a result that so many aspects, including that it was all wasted time. Why, indeed, what they have in those hands? A number? A result? THE MEANING? And what if they do? What you can do with their coolness? What it does
Caden, - Guido Anselmi ottomezziano the new continent - after having finally found? He crossed years, romantic relationships, parenting, plays obsessed by one thing: this "number". Caden has spent virtually every day of his - according to her - sad life to seek the true Caden. As if there was a fake. He submitted himself for examination continuous, endless searches, has run self-place industrial quantities of questions to understand who he really was. And as life went on, he remained there: groped to understand, rather than try to seek to explain, rather than listen. Caden How many are there? You still want your numerino? Or do you just think for his martyrdom ... No, I think is the wrong word, I meant "live". Or do you just live for his martyrdom? The human brain is strange reasoning, pouring all his energies to the understanding of the impossible, while not losing even one for what is already there, at your fingertips, ready to be picked up without the slightest effort. It is as if these men wanted to sacrifice himself in an attempt to resolve indecipherable calculations for our species, but also reject the idea of \u200b\u200btrying with only those suitable to us, with those simple and natural. Chasing the perfect understanding of things, they want everything to be clear and bright before their eyes, they want to know by heart yourself and others. Their life is like an eternal race, a continual pursuit. Tracking which will be always disappointing because tailed and were trying to grab something impossible: their shadow. And then I think the time has come to say that all quell'affanno is useless, meaningless (because it will not ever) as a bulky awkward obstacle that stands between us and the life.
Caden has a lot of Guido Anselmi, in both mind and in the message, but we are in one of those cases where the film posthumously, although similar and full of congruences, shines its own light. Kaufman, through doubts, fears, questions, remorse, dreams of Caden and the other characters, burning through those rooms, those leaps in time, those bodies that gradually become more chaotic, but always falling, was able to describe sublimely the confusion, state of mind of those who are perpetually searching for meaning. But the meaning is only one: that those who prefer to feel informed, they end up overloading a body, the brain, atrophy and make another, the heart. And the extraordinary thing is this, that, without resorting to sterile as odious comparisons, Kaufman's film manages to put you in the swirling atmosphere of feverish and "Otto and half, unable to offer you in front of a modern Guido on his deathbed that only manage to not be more distressing than those questions, but just to ride, without thinking of the goal towards which it is directed.
PS Hoffman is, as Usually, a chameleon who adapts his skin at every internal and external transformation of Caden. Crazy. The cast that revolves around is nothing short of height: Morton, Keener, Watson, Williams, Noonan. Synecdoche, New York I think one of the best movies of this century because it is capable of diving into tangles of the most intimate human mind, discovering its infinite complexity, obscurity and uncertainty, but, eventually securing a single and Simple answer: "Do not come from nowhere, do not go anywhere, just driving." In this short and succinct sentence is at the same time, a great truth and a huge sense of consolation. Needless to say Kaufman is one of the most genialoidi and imaginative minds of our time.
impossible not to start crying for no Italian distribution, these are things of another world, another world. How the heck can we do? How? Son has been two years since, two. I was lucky enough to find the subtitles translated by a pious soul, and, given the absolute quality of the film, I will share them with anyone who wants it.
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