Compartimos el enlace al documental que nos cede el cineasta Óscar Berdullas.
Sharing the link for the filmmaker Oscar Berdullas’ documentary.
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Bajo el cielo de Granada ondean las cintas de La Cometa, un documental que tira del hilo de la historia de esta ciudad única que como tantas, se deshace ante nuestros ojos bajo el peso de la especulación. La cartografía de este territorio rebelde y con menoría es un grito de defensa de los que resisten frente al poder de las excavadoras y del dinero, pero es también un elogio a la sencillez, al duende y a la esperanza. Si Stendhal hoy viajara a Granada y no a Florencia, la vista que hay de Granada desde el cerro de San Miguel Alto le hubiera provocado una impresión similar a la de su síndrome, por la suma de la belleza de las partes que se conjugan. la Alhambra, Sierra Nevada y el discurrir desordenado de las calles del Albaicín. Si Henry Beyle se hubiera paseado por el lugar, al poco hubiera conocido a los moradores de sus cuevas, y estos les hubieran contado sus historias y en esas historias habría descubierto el secreto de la propiedad de sus viviendas. pendientes de un hilo. Habrá que tirar de su hilo.
A strange black ribbon is fluttering from a beautiful kite in the sky of Granada. It is a celluloid ribbon escaped from The Kite’s reel, Óscar Berdullas Pomares’ latest documentary La Cometa. La Cometa / The Kite dares to pull the thread of the dark story behind the slow unraveling of Granada’s uniqueness. As in many cases, the city’s most picturesque neighborhood is starting to suffocate in the tight turtleneck woven by real estate speculation and wild development. El Cerro de San Miguel, Saint Michael’s Hill, its history, its lifestyle and its cave-dweller inhabitants are the essential actors in a fight against the all mighty urban development that has been defacing Spain since the 1960s. This specific neighborhood is a rebel at heart, with excellent memory, and its cartography is a shout of resistance against the power of both money and bulldozers, but it is also a tribute to simplicity, hope and duende, a concept often defined as a heightened state of emotion, expression and authenticity, born in the context of flamenco, whose cradle in Granada is the very neighborhood threatened by development. If French writer Henri Beyle aka Stendhal was to travel to Granada instead of Florence today, he might as well suffer a relapse in his strange syndrome while admiring Granada from Saint Michael’s Hill. It is easy to imagine him feeling dizzy and in awe at the beauty of the Alhambra Moorish castle, the Sierra Nevada mountains and the intricate skein of the narrow streets of the Moorish neighborhood of the Albaycín. If Henri was to stroll among the caves to meet their dwellers and sit with them, they would tell him their stories, and the secret behind properties that hang by a thread of a kite about to be torn. Who are the real owners of the caves of San Miguel? What was the role of urban development in Granada in such situation? Óscar Berdullas invites us to pull that thread with him in search for answers, because Stendhal did not sit with the cave-dwellers, although all feel his syndrome every time they gaze at Granada from atop the Hill.