'Beginning', the film that will remain from the San Sebastián 2020 festival

Fashion, in George Simmel's pioneering analysis, serves both to differentiate a group from its social, economic, or class rivals, and to bring equals together.

But perhaps the most interesting of the '

'

analysis

refers to what the trends have as a mask.

Comply with the rules dictated by the common, tells us the sense of the obvious, annuls individuality and the free exercise of thought, but also, and this is what is relevant, offers the option of hiding behind the rules so as not to be distracted by stupid things and to concentrate in this way "in what is intimate and essential."

And so.

'

', by Georgian director

is that film so beloved at festivals that it concentrates both enthusiasm and misgivings.

Let's say it exists to be fashionable: it

From a distant, perhaps external look, everything about her is too impeccable, too magnetic, undoubtedly overwhelming.

even with one of the most enigmatic and powerful endings to be seen in a long time.

His studied formal perfection, however, invites suspicion.

A conspicuous viewer (not to say critic or sad movie buff) doesn't give up so easily.

But as soon as the rules proposed by the film are accepted without necessarily being offended;

if it is assumed that every director (in this case director) has the right to a mask (and here Simmel's reflection);

then, there is nothing left but to surrender to the obvious.

is the most provocatively

film

that has passed through this San Sebastian Festival.

What's more, it

As it is.

A scene from 'Beginning', by Dea Kulumbegashvili.

The film tells the story of Yana (actress

), a woman harassed from all fronts.

She is the wife of the leader of the Jehovah's Witness community in a town lost between mountains, rivers and infinite prejudices.

In the first scene near the seizure, the church (or whatever) in which a ceremony is being held is attacked with fire by someone who, in the absence of any better definition, can be called an extremist.

In reality, everything runs inside.

Violence is exhibited with a parsimony, tranquility and elegance that, far from naturalizing it or turning it into a spectacle, reveals it in everything that is intimate, essential, common and shared.

It is impossible not to draw lines of contact between the proposal of the newcomer Georgian director Dea Kulumbegashvili and the cinema, for example, of the Mexican

, who is not for nothing as a producer.

Excessive care (or even virtuous exhibitionism) in putting it all together can be argued.

It is slightly overwhelmed by the somewhat naive and terribly voracious rigor of making the oppressive and discriminatory scheme of social institutions, call them that, coincide in the same line of reasoning, such as motherhood, marriage, the state and religion.

But what remains safe is

not discursive or literary, to an argument that is both provocation and evidence.

From the hand of a huge leading actress, Dea (apparently in Georgia the polite way of referring to a person is by name, not by surname) manages to trace in the crudest of what is never told: that other part which has to do not so much with the humiliation of women as a correctable accident in history,

And that applies to all levels: from the most banal everyday to the very roots of theology.

It sounds tremendous and, indeed, it is.

'

' is a film that captivates with the same force that makes you alert.

It is cinema for interrogation, investigation and even doubt.

Yes, it is the fashion film, but, as Simmerl has already ventured, fashion as a mask is not necessarily synonymous with futile or perishable.

Dea is here to stay.

Stanley Tucci and Colin Firth in 'Supernova'.

The melodrama and the cliché

Actually, and long before '

' took center stage, the day was originally dedicated to '

', the second film by fellow actor

With

in the cast and with a story around death, love and Alzheimer's, the so-called prestigious cinema has its particular Tourmalet here.

The result (it is not clear if instead or accordingly) is

Macqueen rather than tell a story, let them tell it to him.

The entire film, from the presentation of the characters to the structure in the form of a journey through the tremendous ending, is limited to

Right from the beginning, the drawing of the leading couple as two homosexuals (one is a writer and the other a pianist) very refined, cultured and very cynical, it seems a parody of what the end-of-year works must be every year at Oxford .

There is a moment when, in front of a group of family and friends, Firth reads Tucci's farewell letter that would read like a scene written by an app.

It is true that the film offers exactly what it promises.

Firth and Tucci do nothing but what they know how to do with the solvency and brilliance of always.

And if they do not take a single step outside the requirement limit, it is not their fault.

Perhaps from the respective representatives.

Be that as it may,

, soft, or emotional day.

But if Firth plays the piano at the end and everything!

Finally, the official section programmed '

, by Argentine

, and we breathed again.

It is about counting the period of mourning that a mother and his youngest child face before the death of the eldest, son and brother respectively.

The director manages so that nothing happens except such

(or intensely delicate, as you like) whose sole purpose is to suspend the viewer's gaze in a space and time without space or time.

It seems contradictory and it's really

The film progresses only pending its clarity, its determination to recreate that moment by force strange (the death of a loved one) in which everything loses meaning to, immediately afterwards, recover it, but in another way.

Suddenly, everything seems new,

.

It is a story of growth, but it is also a story of estrangement.

Fleet.

And tomorrow we will talk about '

' again.

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