Whatever, today I sit on the floor so I can see everything in 4K.
The first few seconds are a bit reckless.
Few movements, some predictable permutations that risk being even banal.
Like those love poems that begin with rhymed couplets.
However...
Mamma. Mia. So. Gripping. And. Complelling.
Just like some unexpected poems, Emanuele , Maria and Armando are powerful! And titillating! And real!
She is so immersed and focused on the scene that, at moments, she insinuates doubt.
Do I see desire or anger?
I know that look. It is so familiar to everyone on us. I remember it. It is desire and anger. The three of them gracefully catalyse attention to detail, aided by music and that alternating noise that almost makes sense.
And so it starts, with a kaleidoscope of arms, geometries that deserve mirrors, plastic compositions, hidden dimensions, breaths, psychedelic moments and, then, the peace of eroticism.
A slow swirl of emotional bubbles entering each other, but never bursting.
A balance perceived by all.
And aren't those exchanges, those little variations, a complex anagram in four dimensions?
I L-O-V-E anagrams! In short, there is so much for those who are bewitched by shapes and beautiful things, but also for those who see themselves, their fears and contradictions.
(well... contradictions... bah... we are all a wonderful mix of curiosity and recklessness)
And those who are more cerebral enjoy the participation, the refinement of dilated time, the high and low tensions, the immersive dimension and the open questions about a still potential ending.
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