tod in gibraltar – tarifa traffic

for me its always been the wee small hours of the night…
it must be the same for you too
since i am no different tonight than you
and my childhood is no more mythological than yours, no more profound, no more technicolor, no more fuzzy blue 16 mm hue than yours
i mean,
we both hated it when she called us indoors
didnt we…
from the time you and i were children
til now night has always been the zone, am i right…the prime location of holy ghost germination, in america i am a morning person my brain works better in the light this makes me feel very adult and thus proud of myself that ive made something resembling progress
But Berlin gives me jet lag I am up til four.five.six without a fight
Berlin awakes the barnabas collins in me this town is drunk with the blood of night but we, you and i, we would watch harmless horror movies on friday and saturday evening
and they would change our undeveloped lives and we never saw the gaping wounds just the ballet dances with knives
a few nights ago i had one of those amazing late night tv life changing moments that i thought were gone forever…no, it was not a revolutionary vacuum cleaner
infomercial…no it was a horror movie…its always a horror movie that comes to you in the night and changes you…change always comes to you in the night…adulthood, the opening up of music and its mysteries, the drama of joint orgasms and paradigmatic shifts of consciousness…discussions and songs that leave you facing the dawn with a new head…change is always a horror movie…and it always comes in the night…change creeping up on you like her nakedness…in a room lit by the stereo receivers red and white lights…change is a horror movie and its not meant to hurt you…its just there to scare…like when she says I love you and catches you unaware…a horror movie with no blood…you know how today when yer WISELY not expecting anything interesting on tv and then you see something that makes you believe that great late night tv should be insomnias gift to the sleepless instead of spit in his weary bloodshot eye…
it was a documentary on morocan boat people looking for a better life in gibraltar…while willing to risk theirs on a raft that I wouldnt trust hauling my back issues of bingo illustrated across a swimming pool, let alone human lives across raging waters…the hypnotic, quietly compelling opening minutes of the doc allow us to watch, in what feels like real time, this floating device filled to the rim and overflowing with human beings floating its way to the shore…rocking from side to side…when do you ever get to see shit like that…high human drama, quiet terrifying and dignified…this is why docs exist, right…but the story goes on…and it gets more and more intense…you actually see these cats as they are on the beach just as theyve completed this life threatening journey…and NO ONE is shoving microphones in their faces…asking them how they feel…and again, when do you ever get to see a guy who has just got off a fucking raft boat that sailed from morocco to gibraltar just trying to catch his breath…no words…no interviews…just the sound of the sea and some voice over…these days people are so used to being filmed practically everything you see in a doc yer thinking A REAL ACTOR COULD HAVE DONE THAT BETTER…but ive never seen an actor play a guy who just went thru what i saw these guys go thru…the doc goes on to deal with the fact that many die on these trips and then the authorities have to try to locate or contact the family back in morocco…there were i am sure many many layers to this amazing piece of work but i was struggling big time to keep up with the german subtitles so all subtleties were lost on me…except for the subtleties of the exquisite filmmaking…just some unbelievably poetic imagery and editing that managed to lend dignity to the subject and the subjects rather than make it arty for arty sake…rare rare rare…i fucking hate the new breed of docs that seem to be made by cats who just wanna make indie flicks…i long for the quiet old documentaries…im talking that PBS 1960s shit…shooting people just being…while the soundtrack plays a conversation you dont see on the screen…when you feel privileged to see what yer seeing… instead of smug or superior like the reality crap and many docs these days want you to feel cooler than whoever is unlucky enough to be onscreen…this film was OG…the link i have to it seems to be from when it first came out…2003 or so…its all in german and i havent the slightest idea if it has ever or will ever play in the states…it was sad and beautiful…Death in Gibraltar…the adult version of one of those late night horror movies I usedta weatch on tv when I was 10…only it was real…which is only fitting…
http://www.3sat.de/film/woche/45820/index.html

Comments (1) to “tod in gibraltar – tarifa traffic”

  1. Stew sez…

    George is right, Stew is pretty cool. Normally it is really hard or me to get into this kind of writing style. I need punctuation and grammar rules and run……

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