What a sad title for a thing of such beauty. This 2015 documentary details the lives of tango's most famous Argentine couple, Maria Nieves Rego and Juan Carlos Copes; their personal relationship and their contributions to the art of tango.
Rooting around in the impossible matrix of Netflix and its too-helpful 'suggestions' last night, I stumbled across this title and pushed play immediately. I'm glad I did.
Buenos Aires in the 1930s is beautifully captured, and the two young protagonists (now in their eighties) are re-enacted by superbly suitable young things. There is heartbreak and tragedy to come, but I did not get to the end. Twenty-five minutes in, I realized somewhat sheepishly that J would love to watch this too, so I chastely decided to re-watch the whole thing together with him.
The other thing was that I watched entirely without subtitles. The leading lady, an arresting, enigmatic 80-year-old, talks in the most delightful measured tones. As a result, I needed no subtitles. And I felt transported into another world.
I can't wait to watch it through to its conclusion. If there is a place and time I would like to indulge me in some soul-travel, it would probably be to Buenos Aires in the 1930s, as a tango dancer.
I can see my apartment now, it has those very tall windows and the long-dreamed of balcony. With an orange tree in a planter.