There's a sequence in the film "La vida sublime" by Daniel Villamediana, in which a conversation about the "film imagine." Movies that deserved to be shot, and that for some reason I never have been. And perhaps, after all, even the same "La vida sublime" is a film that deserved to be shot in his move to the border between documentary and fiction, between truth and fantasy. Describes a journey and at the same time, it offers almost a remake! Victor Vazquez moves to the south of Spain in an attempt to retrace the journey that his grandfather, "El Cuco" torero anarchist Valladolid, mysteriously taken to the English Civil War ended in 1939. The nephew, as held by the ghost of his grandfather, gets on the trail of myth. Between truth and fantasy, to be precise. It is no accident that the title to appear in two thirds of the film, when Vazquez decided to repeat the gestures - perceived or real grandfather. Passionate love letters written on napkins, sitting at a bar. Toreare in a small arena with a beast, a bit 'shabby. Binge, for a bet, ninety sardines. Out in and around the landscape, to intermix and reverberate from the past, the present. You get lost in the landscape, as you can get lost in conversation. Amiably. The folly of the fertile countryside of Seville and the conflict between communists and anarchists, the color of the earth of Spain and the American frontier. Brightly.
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