ELUSIVE SMOKE OVER BLUE SKY And, if the first time we saw the film our soul can’t reach our bodies with the shocking chronicle of a time in the purgatory (that is naturally worst than hell) lived and filmed by David Reznak between the Leganes Psychiatric Hospital’ walls, now it’s even worse: we know, or suspect, that the boy who dreams of being a horn performer or Isabel, the one who the sun call her bitch, they will follow banging their heads against the cotton and thorn fences of their own neuronal maze, not being able to find the way out, month after month, year after year. Precisely by that this documentary acquires a perennial value inside the petrified forest full of undergrowth and fallen leaves in what this genre has become. Fakes can proliferate, or the tedious TV reports fatten like gooses, but the raw daily poetrywith no traps or cheap symbolism of this film remains like an iron testimony about the human being fragility. Theirs and ours, because those who are free from madness throw the first straight jacket.
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