The Disappearance of Garcia Lorca
The pathetically administered job of work this is shows that Lorca was butchered not for Generalissimo Franco but for Steven Spielberg.
Mall rats (including the ones who write for newspapers) somehow didn’t flock to it, which probably means some even fouler-smelling cheese was on sale that weekend.
Men who can’t love their wives give “makeovers” to buildings that are the work of other men. Calling it a “tribute” is the iciest form of sarcasm.
Roger Ebert’s review tells the tale: “Do people read Garcia Lorca today? Or poetry in general? Not many, I suppose. I read some of his poems after seeing the movie, and felt the passion. But Garcia Lorca is perhaps more important today as a symbol than as a poet, and this film is really not so much about him as about memory and history—about how poets are given most of their power not by those who love them, but by those who fear them.”