I couldn't shake the feeling that Morris was laughing at these people, mocking them, being ungenerous of spirit. Snark that doesn't realize it doesn't rise above the ersatz it points and jeers at. So much crazy humanity on display here but no feeling of delight in our humanness, the diametric opposite to Herzog's film about Antarctica.
En primera parte "Gates of heaven" parece perfilarse a un filme sobre la moralidad del oficio: es el capitalista vs. el benefactor. En segunda parte se suma otro testimonio y entonces se abre una nueva ventana: la soledad. Finalmente, una tercera parte. Tres generaciones hablando en sus idiomas propios y en paralelo un grupo de deudos. Abuelo, padre y nieto son futuro, presente y extravío. Los deudos son a la muerte.
I hate to easy it but Something in this just missed the mark. I wasn't as quickly captivated as with his other works. The concept was interesting enough and they're were moments of beauty I just felt there wasa few points that played into repetition and maybe if this film had been trimmed down more I would have derived deeper. But I do admit the soon jamming out over the valley was great.
A spellbinding, deceptively understated documentary superficially about pet cemetaries, but in a larger sense about death, love, family, ambition, self-delusion, and, well, just about everything. It achieves more with its tiny budget and quiet, meditative style than any 100 million dollar blockbuster.