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“You’re pointing at me, right? I’m pointing at you, honey! Naturally, killing you is killing me.” There is no difference. The phrase is pronounced by Everett Sloane Like Father in The Lady of Shanghai. He does it at the end of the film surrounded by mirrors and with a revolver in his hand. He already knows himself dead. In front, Rita Hayworth, turned into the only possible metaphor. A perfect and blonde metaphor. And behind, or ahead, Orson Welles as master of ceremonies and dream builder. What is settled, in short, is the limit of identity; what is hidden behind the surface of the mirrors. Who will sing to you, by Carlos Vermut, is basically a film that lives all of it in this strange room in which the mirrors look at each other and confuse each other. And, obviously, they are lost. It is also the title of a song by Mocedades and, hurrying, one more step (deeper and more transparent) in the filmography of a director determined to draw gaps. It sounds enigmatic and, in fact, it is.

We are, to place ourselves, in the following and, therefore, awaited film of the director who won the Golden Shell with Magical girl in 2014. If in that one of which it was Josie about composing the fractured story of a wounded woman, now, More radical, the idea is to trace in the tracks of an echo maybe without a voice. The film tells the story of a singer who has lost her memory. After decades of retirement, an accident just before his reappearance leaves it completely blank. Until the moment of his return, he has no choice but to reformulate his identity, learn to be who he was. And it will do so by reinventing itself exactly like itself, or better, the image that itself built the pop machinery of which it is, at the same time, guilty and victim. She will have to learn from her most intimate reflection in a ‘fan’, in a follower who memorized and made her every gesture of her idol.

Few starting points so bright and so suggestive. And so specular. And spectacular too. In fact, it has already been said, the whole film lives inside a room full of mirrors. The Disaster Artist Vermouth insists, as in Diamond flash, his first and miraculously disconcerting film, in confusing reality with the same dream. All the staging of Who will sing to you seems to be so neatly transparent that it inhabits an intermediate space between hyperrealism and the simple nightmare. And, again, as in Magical Girl, it is a question of portraying, in a serious and dazzling way, the agony of a mystery that vanishes with each step, which seems a bit darker with each explanation

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Quién te cantará
Quién te cantará
Quién te cantará
Quién te cantará
Quién te cantará
Quién te cantará
Quién te cantará