Paulo Seabra

Television shows don't often have much going on by way of cinematography, and with good reason since their runtime doesn't consist of two or three hours, it is actually closer to a hundred. So it's fairly understandable that the vast majority of the episodes are shot with a clear pragmatism in mind, it's all about filming the scenes, most of which tend to be fairly expository, as fast and as cheaply as possible, because the budget is as fleeting as the deadline. I think you'll find that if you catch an episode of most TV shows halfway through, your takeaway from it will essentially be that all the characters ever do is talk. And in some ways movies are the same, at the end of the day, a story is a conflict between people, and since most of the conflict is dialogue, the rest might as well get cut. It's like a chess game, you don't really need to see the pieces actually destroying each other in order to understand that the game can be a real massacre. And yet,...

This book is weird, but if you're reading this then you probably already knew that. If you're particularly obsessed with the Lovecraft mythos then you might have heard of this book already, if not then you might have heard of it through True Detective. Aside from that, you probably never heard of it at all. At any rate, the latter was how I first discovered it, and with good reason because the show draws inspiration from the very best aspects of the book. And when book is good, it's really something. Thing is though, the rest of it is, as I've said, weird... As you may know, the book consists of a collection of nine short stories plus one collection of eight prose poems. Its title comes from a play, existing only within the book itself, called The King in Yellow, a book so bizarre that all of its readers are driven to absolute madness. Its author is said to have attempted suicide, though he, perhaps tragically, survived. His book is meant to have some kind of deep, al...

A minha ideia original era passar este mês de agosto a ler este segundo volume de Em Busca do Tempo Perdido. Queria tê-lo lido com calma para conseguir desfrutar de cada página, justamente a maneira como Marcel Proust deve ser, ou tem de ser, lido. Em certos aspetos gosto de dizer que fiz isso, mas a verdade é que não consegui, como frequentemente não consigo, deixar que o tempo passasse com cada página. Quis passar este verão a ler este volume sobre o verão, e agora, com ainda mais um mês inteiro de verão para viver, já o acabei... Persegui o livro à espera que a história acontecesse, a história aconteceu, acabou, e agora, como se costuma dizer, nem dei por ela. Por isso é que ler Proust é uma experiência tão surreal. Toda a sua obra está escrita num ritmo que nem sempre faz o sentido de uma história tradicional, mas é um ritmo que imita perfeitamente a vida real. Passamos a vida à espera de um dia específico, esse dia chega e depois vem o dia seguinte, um amanhã que não concebemos, ...