Of all the possible metaphors, none as accurate, clear and irrefutable as the one that said that life is a tombola . Some have to do, what do I know, the busty; to others, the pilot puppy, and to the last ones, why not, the Goya. It is like that. It may also happen that the only prize is that of "Try again". In fact, the latter is the most common. Sooner, later or directly it is always our turn.

Indeed, life is a tombola and this year, thanks undoubtedly to the Marisol contest, the awards that Spanish cinema gives itself, too. Or even more. So, in the 34th edition of the Goya held in Malaga won the one that bought the most tickets . Even in the tombs, from time to time, there is some logic.

Almodóvar was, from any point of view, not so much the favorite as the only possible option . I endorsed him from the Oscar nomination, already imminent, to his impeccable history in these same awards passed by, since we are, the much more common sense at hand. All together, sure prize. He always plays, what would the megaphone say.

Remember, that of La Mancha is attended by figures and even deciphers (because of the anger and reconciliation with the Academy). Suddenly, the seven Goya achieved now put the Manchego in the right place, which is none other than that of the most relevant, influential and international Spanish director that has given La Mancha in particular and Spain in general since the 80s to this part as minimum.

Nobody is up to it

Four times one of his works has been chosen throughout the history of the Goya the best and three times he has been designated as the director of the year. No one is up to it . Pain and glory is not only a perfect x-ray of the sick body of a man but of the body (also sick) of an entire country. And of the body of his memory. All, in their own way, sore and glorious in equal parts. In this way, Almodóvar's last and introspective work seems something like his definitive ascent to the heights, to any of them. It wants to be a journey through the past and present of a filmmaker in crisis and ends up being offered as a profound reading of the same time.

For the film it was the jackpot and for Almodóvar the original direction and screenplay. It was also for Dolor y gloria that of music (11 Goya already has Alberto Iglesias) and that of assembly (Teresa Font that replaces Pepe Salcedo, the editor of absolutely everything Almodóvar up to here). And of course, the two actors.

First, Antonio Banderas . It was his night, it was his Malaga and it was until his entire life since he discovered the world of cinema with, precisely, Almodóvar. "It's been three years since my heart attack," he said. And he did it with his heart in his mouth. Beautiful and exaggerated or exaggeratedly beautiful, as desired. And then, Julieta Serrano. She also walked with Almodóvar a long time ago and with him she finds herself transfigured in the mother of the director, who is only a return to the origin of the origin; the origin of Pedro, Antonio, Julieta.

'While the war lasts', eclipsed

The rest of the record remained balanced and had the good tone of putting each film in its place. More or less. While the war lasts , the other favorite, he took what he had to play , which was basically the best supporting actor -ese Eduard Fernández who is scary as Millán-Astray- and everything else until his five Goya. Calling them simply technicians is neither fair nor even technically appropriate. But it was.

That What burns will take the award to actress revelation, memorable Benedict Sánche z, and the photograph of Mauro Herce tells. That is, it matters and much that a film as deep and even savagely independent as that of Óliver Laxe reaches the right recognition right here, in the supposed awards of the industry (if any).

Weathering was done with two and The Infinite Trench , the one that lost the most , fell from the 15 nominations to the two victories. Of course, one of them was for the huge tragic and comic at the same time Belén Cuesta. And below, cite the irresistible rise of Enric Auquer as the revelation of all the revelations in Who Kills Iron and the premiere as director of Belén Funes in The Daughter of a Thief , the only woman among all the directors.

A boring white gala

For the rest, and when it comes to the party, the thing started well . Very good even. After a debatable musical number that reviewed it was not clear if the history of Spanish cinema or its enemy, Benedicta's prize came.

The 84-year-old woman, and a lifetime to be fulfilled, announced at the foot of the red carpet that she left everything in the hands of fate, and fate, how could it be otherwise, shook hands. It seems a sad pun and, indeed, it is. Rarely has the stage of any awards attended such a chaotic celebration of freedom , affection and respect as with Benedict's ramshackle and perfect speech. That said, some words that save the world. And the Goya themselves.

Too bad it won't last. And then came the script and ... the busty. The idea was to make a show-tombola as white, visual and spectacular as possible in which any threat of transgression, ingenuity or simple grace would be replaced by the much more helpful, how to say, boredom? Yes, it must be this. At first it is difficult to identify the sensation. Tiredness, lack of irrigation, desire to be anywhere else ... Why these breaks? To the saint of what all that almost infinite series of musical numbers? Is rare. If something has been demonstrated gala after gala is that the performances with music inside is not that they work badly, it is that they make it weird. Well, nothing, the idea, no doubt, was to check if attempt number 34, now yes, it worked. And, surprise, there was no way.

It is not that Banderas and his A chorus line or Amaia and his versions of Marisol, or Jamie Collum and his piano, or Alborán and his Alborán, or the strange musical start already mentioned. Do I forget any? Surely ... Not that, we said, none of them separately are not reasons for celebration. The problem is to put them together while everyone is looking forward to finishing before even giving the first note. There is no, how to say, do you win? I dont know. When at about one o'clock in the morning the last one came out to sing the penultimate one there were those who threatened to tear their eyes off and place them in their ears. But it was only threat. And of course, there was another number. Or I dreamed it.

Andreu Buenafuente and Silvia Abril managed to be right and wrong at the same time. Well the Superwoman number; well the monologue that was good (the last one), well in the short interventions and well in general when, as always, the gala accelerated at the end. They grow up in a hurry. Regulate only when the gag and they liked each other and lengthened, lengthened ... That in a gala of almost four hours is either disconcerting or just a provocation. The impossibility of remembering, on one side Benedict, a single memorable moment is still symptomatic. In 3,333 hours.

And so, it was once again demonstrated that life is a tombola and, judging from what it seems, touches rarely.

According to the criteria of The Trust Project

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  • Pedro Almodovar
  • Malaga
  • Antonio Banderas
  • cinema
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  • Goya Awards

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