Chicho and the fear of the dark pleasure of the fear

Chicho Ibáñez Serrador, it was clear what was the true power of fear. On the one hand, nothing leaves us more defenseless. “Someone scared of resignation to prove to himself what he is capable”, he commented. But with all, who resists. The feeling of panic, insisted our Hitchcock particular that will now receive finally the Goya of honor, returns us to childhood, to that space almost sacred in which everything is still possible. As a child, in fact, not a single one of the countless failures that will come and will shape our personality can be seen as even possible. The attraction for what is fearful, in addition, has something of a cathartic, of saving maybe. As the own religion, terror in its multiple forms of consumption places the believer, the viewer or, as the case may be, to the voter in the acceptance proud of his helplessness. We are so vulnerable when we admit the secret of the faith, at once fascinating and terrifying, as when we abandon ourselves to the certainty awe of the unknown, of what makes us suffer. And it is this pleasant helplessness which reassures us and, at the expense of even any semblance of rationality, makes us strong. The culprit is not already part of us; the person in charge of our intimate misery stops being the incompetence or selfishness. Finally has a face and eyes. And it’s always another. Perhaps a monster viscous. Or the devil. Or just an immigrant hungry. Religion, yes, comforts; it is there for to congraciarnos with our orphan’s cosmic. The fear, however, exploits the clearly aware of the abyss. The used. And even monetize. Just a movie ticket. Or a simple vote.

Without a doubt the most extreme example of the teachings of the creator of milestones dreadful as The residence, each one of the deliveries of Stories to not sleep, the panic of losing the apartment in Torrevieja on the One, two, three… or, why not, Straw Brava at The traffic lights, it is Who can kill a child? Beyond the dazzling and dazzled staging, what baffles is that title that points to a place by force dark. The own Chicho insisted, to prevent reading wrong, the film was first and foremost a defense of childhood. That is, as we have said, the terror itself. What is certain is that the tape can only contemplate with a deep sense of guilt. Harrowing and, in its way, liberating. The story of a kind of wave vengeful that he throws to the kids (now monsters) of an island lost against the adults placed the viewer in a site that I would never have wanted to visit. And it is there, in the discomfort radical, where there are doubts, where you can guess all the abysses.

Never before was so clear the attraction of fear. And the fear that produces the fear. After what is referred to in the last election, Chicho, in effect, return to reason.

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