Spanish cinema has more awards than viewers. The Goyas were summoned under the unmaterialized threat of the tractors preventing access to the gala, the cinematographic irony of the new velociraptors. After seeing some of the nominees, how grateful the viewer would have been if a farmer had blocked the entrance with his wagon.
The Goya awards are not decided on limited viewing films, but on the presentation. The deplorable opening scene of the Javis, dragging the overacting Ana Belén in their shipwreck, denies any temptation for spectacle but explains the null impact of Spanish cinema. By then, the untouchable José Sacristán had already dynamited the red carpet, defending David Vermut’s films. He hollowed out the sermon of the presenters, who worsened their performance as the evening progressed.
Before starting, the best film of 2023 is Upon Entry, so far from the rest that it forces paid analysts of Spanish cinema to report. The cornering of this gem until the last minute shows that a boycott of a worthwhile product is more harmful than false promotion. The banished “part of a well-rounded script”, in the apt definition of its protagonist Alberto Amman, who saw how his logical prize went to the umpteenth Eugenio imitator. The second title of merit is Close your eyes by Víctor Erice, with a statuette of justice for José Coronado.
The burden of Upon Entry is its status as an indigestible film, of bad guys and bad guys, a faithful portrait of people predisposed to deception to prosper. Indeed, in the antipodes of 20,000 species of bees, where “a social creation” is sung that anticipates punishment to the viewer.
As for the hoarder The Snow Society, within the gastronomic genre you want more Slow Fire. Monopoly enters into what PedroSánchez called “films for all tastes”, accompanied by his inseparable Yolanda Díaz. It has a trap, cinema for people who don’t go to the cinema, in an industry without transition between Santiago Segura and scripts for Podemos ministers. As for the claims to adhere to moral virtues, it is a Netflix product, it is not advisable to insult the viewer excessively.
A film about snow is the ideal option for a frozen gala. The Bayonne Steamroller eclipsed the special award for Sigourney Weaver.
He boasted that “I greatly admire Spanish cinema”, fortunately they did not ask him for examples. And although Loles León boasted of having seen all of the New Yorker’s films, how many spectators at the gala remember the last two, We are all Jane and Master Gardener. Better not ask.