Tag Archives: Adrián Lastra

Temporal

There was more black humour in Temporal than was comfortable. I suppose it wasn’t meant to be a picnic, or even close to walking barefoot on the beach, as the call centre ladies dreamed about.

Times are bad, and we know they are very bad in Spain. Temporal was a day in the life of a small group of temps, and while it didn’t get worse, it certainly didn’t get better, either. Not much hope anywhere.

Temporal

If you try to complain you end up feeling grateful you are allowed to keep your job afterwards. In the call centre breaks were something the workers could only dream about, along with wanting a holiday in Varadero.

Temporal

The poor guy who sold – or tried to sell – vacuum cleaners could have been given a better script to work from. Very short shorts seemed to help Rosario/Jenifer in persuading passers-by to stop and talk to her about crisps.

This was a hard film to understand, or like. Why didn’t they stand up to their employer? Why did they let people walk all over them? Unemployment, and the wish to eat today. And tomorrow.

I truly hope I will not take pity on my cold callers in future. I still don’t want what they sell, nor can I afford it. I can see why the workers try to make a living out of this hopeless task. But why does someone want them to do it in the first place? There can be no money in it.

We could have done with finding out about poor Jenifer.

(At Cornerhouse on March 20th.)

Los Backstreet Primos

It’s time for this year’s ¡Viva! at Cornerhouse, and what an excellent start I had last night, seeing Primos by Daniel Sánchez Arévalo. It is easily the best film I have seen in Cornerhouse’s Spanish language film festival over the last few years, and as I came out of the cinema I was busy planning how to get hold of a copy for friends and family to enjoy too.

Primos

Having seen Daniel’s Gordos last year, I thought I knew what to expect; a fun film. But this was so much more, funny, romantic, and with that little bit extra that made it more memorable than other funny and romantic films.

The plot is simple enough, with Diego having been left in the lurch by Yolanda, and his two cousins (primos) Julián and José Miguel stepping in to prevent him from going crazy. Except they are possibly crazier than Diego ever will be, so their impromptu trip ‘home’ doesn’t turn out as they think.

Primos

Although, perhaps they aren’t crazy either. They have been formed by the people around them, and coming back home they meet up with their pasts. There is the drunk, former owner of the video rental shop and his beautiful daughter. There is Diego’s first love Martina, and her young son, who proves wiser in many ways than the three primos. And it’s hardly surprising that Spanish men are so very preoccupied with cojones and the size of them, if they are introduced to this ‘important’ subject so early on.

New and old romances flourish in beautiful settings, and the primos revisit their youthful impersonation of the Backstreet Boys, as well as the local seaside theme park. As I’ve noticed with other non-English language films, there is none of the prudish hang-ups about going topless on the beach, or of being seen perching on the toilet.

Primos

And breakfasting isn’t always easy, or ‘desayunar no siempre es fácil,’ as Diego finds.

It’s fluffy and silly, but so very wonderful.