is a film that over the years, perhaps it has been setting a tone of asphalt (that potions of handicrafts of our childhood that gave the wrinkles of the things an air of old noble but spurious). But it is a movie that I see again whenever I can because, despite its timeless atmosphere as little eighties, I have increasingly become a classic. History is not a paragon of originality or address too subtle, but all I can a splendid trio of actors who weave together a chronicle urban black dye, passion and friendship that makes Sea of \u200b\u200bLove an unforgettable film. Are Al Pacino, Ellen Barkin and John Goodman. The first police giving life to a ragged life and haunts alcoholic. The second rising right up to the flammability temperature negative. And the third class as a child putting the counterpoint of humor and bonhomie so well oiled that any thriller. When rolled, Al Pacino came a season of theater and excesses. Maybe that's why also give the loser and disoriented profile which is not apparent at any time the protagonist, Frank Keller. Nothing better to become an actor of such character are called an immersion in the playing shady types whose life must be soaked to stalisnasvski. But for this model characters, who are the very face of defeat, do not become a caricature, in human rags swaying on the stool in a seedy bar while saying phrases supposedly deep, it is adorned with precise doses of humor and even laugh at his own stamp on the mirrors. Therefore, one of the most memorable scenes in the movie is when Al Pacino, looking at your feet as you look at an extravagance, Barkin shows the expensive and flashy moccasins she had given and they are absolutely unfit for a boozy detective and appearance rather Adamic: Look, if I have to put your moccasins! "he says in one of the most beautiful declarations of love movie you remember. And it is perfectly understandable as possible to declare a woman like Helen of melody seduction. A femme fatale that it be finally only in the imagination of Keller, but also, and for the same plot development in that of those on the other side of the screen confused joyful mystery and scorching heat with the ways a fatal Dietrich Sternberg. In the lobby of a neighborhood supermarket, the brief scene in which Pacino's hand slips a few inches above the knee of a Barkin who come to the meeting wearing nothing but a black trench coat and high heels, is much more heated than a whole marathon porn gymnastics. Yes, perhaps Sea of \u200b\u200bLove is not a masterpiece, or maybe even not even a great movie in the opinion of those who set fees in the world of the film, but I confess that every time Tom Waits performs his unique version of Sea of \u200b\u200blove (original title film) on loans that close the projection, one would invade that what Borges spoke in a Scandinavian poem that has so much to do with the threat of the moment: the nostalgia of this.
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