One of the perks about working at a bank is that the quality of the “free shit” that you have access to from time to time tends to be surprisingly high. And I don’t mean “Free leftover snacks in the kitchen” nice, I mean, “Red carpet premiere with Mr. Frodo Baggins, followed by drinks with Almodovar” kind of nice. That’s perhaps misleading, as I believe I couldn’t be any more detached from Mr. Wood and Mrs. Almodovar circle of acquaintances, but, as prone to being star-struck as I am, being in the same room with them was something else altogether.

One of my questions, and maybe the reason why I won’t be catching any more free screenings, was “How come Javier Bardem’s latest movie, the one he won a Golden Globe for, still isn’t showing in Spain?”. The answer was a bit surprising, but expected: “Do you really think there’s money to be made for a Cohen Brothers in the spanish market?”, to which I answered “Well, it’s supposed be good“.

Long pause.

 ”Oh.”

Another gem I took away from the event was from a high-profile producer, who lamented the fact that even though they were making sure they were only financing movies with “popular appeal”, they still weren’t making a lot of money on them. I’m sure my definition of a lot of money doesn’t quite match his, but his lament actually helped me understand why spanish cinema, with few brave exceptions, is Shit, capital S. Not THE shit, just regular old shit.

(Like, from a butt.)