Audiovisual Reviews.

Audiovisual Reviews.
Robert E. Yahnke, PhD, Audiovisual Editor
AGING, INTERGENERATION, & COMMUNITY:
WAKING NED DIVINE NttD TEA WITH MUSSOLINI
Reviews of feature-length films have appeared in
several audiovisual columns in The Gerontologist. The
first feature-length film reviewed in this column was /
Never Sang for My Father (Vol. 17, No. 5, 1977), a
remarkable 1970 film starring Melvyn Douglas and
Gene Hackman. Additional films were reviewed in at
least one column each year from 1991-1996 (except
1994). Of the 22 feature-length films reviewed in this
column, several classic films on aging stand out: Babette's Feast (Vol. 32, No. 3, 1992), Cinema Paradiso
(Vol. 33, No. 2, 1993), Driving Miss Daisy (Vol. 31,
No. 3, 1991), Fried Green Tomatoes (Vol. 32, No. 5,
1992), Tell Me a Riddle (Vol. 31, No. 3, 1991), and
The Trip to Bountiful (Vol. 31, No. 1, 1991). An
annotated filmography of these and other selected
recommended films—many not reviewed in The Gerontologist—is appended at the end of this column.
Waking Ned Divine (1998) and Tea with Mussolini
(1999) touch on two important themes that are essential to cinematic representations of old age—the
theme of mentoring and the theme of regeneration
through community. When young and old interact in
films, the young are cast as those who need mentors
and role models. The old have been tested in the
fires of experience; they are survivors, negotiators, and
realists. Likewise, when the old are valued as "elders"
within their communities, then their personal fulfillment is enriched in the context of the continuity of
tradition, the positive values of "aging in place," and
the diversity of their roles within the community.
The theme of community, as it is featured in Waking
Ned Divine and Tea with Mussolini, differs markedly.
In the first film, community is defined more traditionally; the characters are all part of a specific community—a small Irish village. In the second film, the
characters form their own community—based on a
common background and their devotion to a specific
locale. The significance of those communities—in the
context of aging—also depends on their interaction
with children. In both films the words from the African fable apply: "It takes a village to raise a child."
Both films portray the raising of illegitimate children.
In Waking Ned Divine, an illegitimate son is raised
alone by his mother, who refuses to name the boy's
father. In Tea with Mussolini, a boy has been abandoned by his father and placed in an orphanage because the child was born of an extramarital liaison.
504
In Waking Ned Divine, the young boy is a minor
character; only at the end of the film is his importance to the overall plot revealed. This film is not so
much about intergeneration as it is about aging in
the context of community. In Tea with Mussolini, the
young boy is a main character. His mentoring by a
number of old women makes the intergenerational
theme a primary one in the film. The young boy learns
to value the old as well as the tiny community they
have formed.
Waking Ned Divine and Tea with Mussolini share
other common elements. Each film portrays an old
person who takes on a leadership role in the context
of a small, tight-knit community. One of the two, an
old man, begins with an ill-conceived plot to gain
riches, but he learns through his folly and gains
wisdom and insight into the steadfastness of community values. The second character, an old woman,
is part of an expatriate group of old women in
Florence, Italy, in the years before World War II.
She plays the role of leader, arranger, negotiator, and
mentor. But she is a quiet and unassuming leader,
and much of her activity is carried out in the background as other more strident, self-congratulatory
characters hold center stage. Both films suggest that
old age is a time of life to be valued, a time to assume new roles, and a means of maintaining continuity for the community.
The characters in these films are filled with passion. They are passionate about life, committed to
their community, in love with new ideas, and passionate about friendships, art, and the rights of children. In some cases they are caricatures of their former
selves, but for the most part they are not stereotypes.
They are shown to have a full range of human emotions. They have abundant wit and humor, they acknowledge and learn from their mistakes, they are
inventive and resourceful, and they do wild and crazy
things. As individuals they are motivated by complex
feelings and values.
These films are about active elders. None of the
characters suffers from illnesses or diseases associated
(often stereotypically) with aging. They are hearty, stride
purposefully through their villages or cityscapes, and
exhibit unflagging energy. The main character in Waking Ned Divine rides a motorcycle, and one of his
favorite pastimes is swimming in the ocean. The old
The Gerontologist
women in Tea with Mussolini spend the day in art
galleries, attend picnics in the countryside, and walk
up and down the streets of Florence. There is nothing sedentary about their lifestyles.
Waking Ned Divine is a spirited film about a small
Irish village, Tullymore (population 52), dominated by
old people who have settled into easy and pleasant
retirements. The film highlights older adults who are
valued as "elders" within their communities because
they have aged in place, drawn people to them, functioned as mentors, and fought to maintain a sense of
"community" within their rural village. They have lived
within the context of old traditions and unchanging
ways. In this context, aging in place is a central metaphor
for personal fulfillment in old age.
Waking Ned Divine begins with a scene that is a
metaphor for the entire film. Jackie, the main character, plays a practical joke on his wife. As he watches
the lottery numbers called out on the television after
dinner, he peaks his wife's interest by calling out gleefully that each number matches the number on his
ticket. Soon he is waxing ecstatic in a hushed "Yes,
yes, yes," as each number on his ticket rings true. As
the climactic last number is called, his wife is drawn
to his side—a delicious custard dessert in a saucer in
her hand. She is dumbfounded at their luck. After
the last number is called, old Jackie has a hearty laugh
and tears up the ticket. It was all an act! His wife
groans, but he laughs, "I got you to bring me in a
dessert!" In this comic scene, the life of an old couple
is characterized succinctly. He still plays tricks, and
she still falls for them. A sense of humor is the best
medicine. There's something devilishly fun about pulling the wool over someone's eyes. Sometimes "the
good life" all comes down to savoring a delicious custard.
Into this tranquil setting comes the red-eyed monster of greed. When Jackie reads in the newspaper
that the winner of the Irish lottery resides in his small
community of Tullymore, he hatches a plot: court the
winner of the lottery, and reap the benefits of that
friendship. After all, they believe the winner will pocket
half a million pounds, and that will mean many rounds
of pints at the local pub for the winner's close friends.
Of course, Jackie's plot is doomed to fail, and comedy naturally follows. Jackie and his friend Michael
even send out invitations to the 28 lottery-playing
regulars for a chicken dinner. At the end of the evening
they still don't know who won the lottery. Then they
realize one of the 28, Ned Divine, did not show up
for dinner.
The passions and energies of Jackie and Michael
are shown most graphically in two marvelous cuts between scenes. The first example is the cut from the
dinner scene, with the realization that Ned Divine
was missing, to a shot of Jackie walking full stride in
the middle of the night through a pounding rain on
his way to Ned Divine's cottage. Jackie has never been
more alive! He moves with intensity of feeling and
raw vitality and drive. Sure enough, he finds Ned
Divine in his cottage—but Ned Divine sits dead in
his chair. The lottery ticket is still clenched in his
hand. And the look on this old man's face is a perVol. 39, No. 4, 1999
505
fect combination of serenity and ecstasy. Apparently
he died of a heart attack when he realized that he
was the winner. Struck dead at the moment of joy.
The sexual pun of Jackie's "Yes, yes, yes!" in the first
scene resonates in the expression on the dead man's
face. He, too, was transported to another place at
the moment of intense feeling. He died with a smile
on his face and his eyes wide open and glowing.
Jackie returns home, shares what he has witnessed
with his wife, and then goes to sleep. Jackie dreams
he is with Ned Divine in a boat and the old man is
happily devouring the chicken that he missed at the
infamous chicken dinner served up by Jackie and
his wife that night. "Where are we going?" Jackie
asks his dream partner. Old Ned says, "Into the light."
This interaction leads to the secona magical cut, from
the dream sequence to a shot of Jackie and his old
friend Michael striding out in the blinding rain toward Ned's cottage. "I see it as destiny!" Jackie cries
out. The two men are full of energy and determined
to claim Ned Divine's lottery ticket. They interact like
silly teenagers who have decided on a course of action beyond anything they could have imagined. In
the scene Jackie tries to mold Ned's face into a frown
so that no one will suspect that he won the lottery.
They begin to laugh so hard they can barely control
themselves. In the next scene Annie, Jackie's wife,
refers to her husband and his friend Michael as "the
boys." Obviously these two have been involved in
numerous silly stunts before. But nothing like this one.
The most unforgettable scene in Waking Ned
Divine is the hilarious scene of skinny old Michael,
wearing only his helmet, as he races his motorcycle
down narrow country lanes, so that he will arrive at
Ned Divine's cottage ahead of the Lottery man. His
desperate ride is precipitated by the Lottery man's
sudden appearance at the beach. Jackie and Michael's
plans, based on Jackie's assuming the identity of Ned
Divine, are foiled when the lottery man shows up at
the beach and asks Jackie, "Do you know where Ned
Divine lives?" Now Michael is forced to play Ned
Divine. So his naked ride on the motorcycle is a lastditch effort to maintain the charade of switched
identity. Meanwhile, Jackie rides along with the
Lottery man and continually feeds him misdirections
to allow Michael more time to reach Ned's cabin
ahead of them. Why is this comic scene perfect?
One reason is that the norm of female nudity in films
is replaced by male nudity. Another reason is that
Michael's scrawny chest and bony back are generations removed from images of Baywatch hunks on
the beach. At the same time, the old man's body
is simply that—an old man's body. And for filmgoers
to see the reality of the aging body astride a motorcycle! What a refreshing combination of old age and
virility.
After these wonderful comic scenes, the film turns
serious when Jackie and Michael realize that neither
one of them can follow through on the idea of claiming Ned Divine's lottery ticket. The wisdom of old
age wins out over the ill-conceived greed of their earlier
actions. Jackie is pressured by his wife to quit this
selfish plot. "How much am I worth to you?" she
asks. Both men frame their change of heart in terms
of what Ned Divine would have wanted. They conclude that Ned Divine did not want them to be rich.
Suddenly their Laurel and Hardy personas drop
away, and both Jackie and Michael become sober
and introspective. The depths of their characters are
revealed, and the earlier scenes of farce are replaced
by a subtler comedy of the human condition.
In a town meeting scene, Jackie takes charge. He
opens the winnings to all 52 townspeople. The townspeople stand to snare seven million pounds, or about
135,000 pounds per person. Everyone will get an
equal share. Later Jackie and Annie are shown lying
in bed together. A gentle intimacy evolves, as they
talk quietly about the latest twist of fortune. Jackie
has redeemed himself in his wife's eyes. They acknowledge the fullness of the intimacy that exists between them. With a wink, Annie slips under the covers and the scene ends. This expression of sexuality
in old age is revealed as a natural component of a
relationship in old age and further evidence that the
film is able to mine the reality of aging relationships
in nonstereotypical ways.
Another touching scene is the funeral of Ned Divine. Everyone in the village gathers in the church,
and comedy ensues when the Lottery man, who has
returned to the village to verify Ned Divine's identity, steps into the church and spots Jackie giving the
eulogy. Jackie freezes momentarily, and then after
more quick thinking on his part, switches gear and
begins to praise the "dead man"—his friend Michael,
who of course is sitting only a few feet away from
him. "What a wonderful thing it would be to visit
your own funeral. Michael and I grew old together.
When we laughed, we grew younger. If he was here
now, I'd congratulate him on being a great man and
thank him for being a friend." Naturally, the Lottery
man does not suspect Jackie's latest ruse, and througn
this comic moment the screenwriter neatly suggests
the perspective gained by Jackie in his impromptu
eulogy—after all their wild planning and desperate
plot twists, life comes down to basic values of friendship, loyalty, community, and trust. Of course, seeing Micnaei's response to Jackie's heartfelt commentary is a pleasant bonus.
Not since Local Hero (1983) has there been such
an eccentric collection of townspeople depicted in
films about aging. In that film, a jaded young American oil executive is overwhelmed by the charm and
humor of a small Scottish fishing village. (See the annotation at the end of this review.) But in Waking
Ned Devine, the charm and eccentricity of aging
characters is shown from the inside. The Lottery man,
for example, simply comes and goes in their lives.
Only one other character, an old disabled woman
named Lizzie, who scoots about town on a motorized cart, casts a villainous air on the community. Lizzie
is the epitome of embittered old age. She has nothing positive to say about anything or anyone. Of
course, everyone attributes her negativity to her disability. When the plan is hatched to share the winnings among everyone in town, Lizzie is the one
who seeks to foil tne plan and take a larger share of
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the winnings. But Waking Ned Divine is a comedy;
and that means that all ends well, and that the good
are rewarded and the bad punished in the end. And
Lizzie is revealed as truly "bad" when she tries to act
on her plan to turn in the townspeople for lying to
the Lottery. When her cart's battery dies, and she
stands up and walks away from it, her ruse is revealed. The old woman has been living a lie! Now
she can be neatly dispatched in a great comic scene.
Thus, the town's fortune is preserved, and Jackie
and Michael's decision to share the lottery with the
townspeople is vindicated.
This is a community dominated by the old. There
are few young people in the film. One of the younger
characters, Maggie, has an illegitimate child, Morris.
No one but Maggie knows who the father is. The
secret comes out only at the end of the film, when
Maggie tells Jackie that Ned Divine is the boy's
father. Annie's opinion of Ned—that he was "tne
sweetest man, a gentleman"—echoes ironically in the
context of this revelation. Ned Divine has been a
marvelous benefactor—both to Maggie and to the
community. And Maggie shows her grace when she
declines pressing for the right to the full lottery winnings. After all, her son is the rightful heir of Ned's
winnings. The film ends with resolutions everywhere
and evidence that sometimes old and young are
bonded in mysterious ways.
The last scene shows some of the old men from
the village, along with young Morris, toasting their benefactor as they stand on the cliffs along the coast outside of town. They bring the pub out-of-doors, celebrate the memory of Ned Divine, and also commemorate the unique bond of all 52 townspeople.
Little Morris is hoisted up on the shoulders of his
father-to-be, the man his mother loves and has always wanted to marry, and thus three generations
gather for the celebration. The last scene reminds us
of the significance of the title, Waking Ned Divine.
In two respects Ned Divine was "waked." The first is
that although he died, he was awakened by Jackie
and Michael so that he could "claim" his lottery ticket
—in the name of everyone in the community. The
second is that Ned Divine was celebrated in a gathering of toasts on the cliffs by the sea—a symbol of
the traditional Irish Catholic wake that is meant to
commemorate the beginning of the soul's passage to
heaven.
In some respect, Tea with Mussolini is a love letter
from Franco Zeffirelli, the director of the film, to the
woman who helped raise him when he was a boy in
Florence. The film is not a memoir, but an imaginative, idealized rendering of events and characters associated with a key time in the director's life. As such,
it risks being an overly sentimentalized version of childhood experiences. But Zeffirelli avoids this trap and
makes the film a moving tribute to the women who
influenced his development as an artist and eventually a film director. The film succeeds because the
portrayals of old age, although often comic in tone,
are never patronizing or stereotypical. The group of
women portrayed in the film are known sarcastically
The Gerontologist
as the Scorpioni. Their capacity to stand up for what
they believe in, even to defy injustice at the hands of
authority—to sting and bite as it were—is one of the
hallmarks of their character.
Mary Wallace (Joan Plowright) is the main character, the woman who takes on the task of raising
a young boy, Luca, after he is abandoned by his father and deposited in an orphanage. Luca is one of
many children who are born of liaisons between married
men and their lovers. Mary Wallace is a straightforward, no-nonsense woman whose fiance and father
both were killed in action in World War I. She is the
most practical and down-to-earth member of the group
of female expatriates who have formed a tight-knit
community in Florence in 1935. Early in the film she
returns Luca to the orphanage after trying to persuade his father to take responsibility for him. In this
brief scene, the director combines her point-of-view
shots of lonely, abandoned children in the courtyard
of the orphanage with reaction shots of her face. In
one of these close-ups, he moves the camera down
to her gloved hands in her lap. At that moment the
boy's hand takes one of her hands. That camera movement signifies the bonding of the old woman's life
and the young boy's life—and signals the beginning
of Mary Wallace's commitment to Luca as a parent
figure, grandparent figure, and mentor. She takes him
away from the orphanage, and in the next scene at
her apartment, she feeds him an English breakfast,
the first step in making him the "perfect" English gentleman. He asks, "Can I stay here with you?" She pauses,
then says, "Yes—just as long as you like."
Mary Wallace is the emotional center of the film,
and her devotion to Luca is unbending and heartfelt.
She arranges a complicated schedule with her friends
to provide Luca witn a liberal education. She tries to
keep the father involved in his son's life. When Luca
is disappointed in trying to find his mother, she consoles him with a lesson based on her own experience—her loved ones (fiance and father) died in the
war: "Love doesn't die, and your mother will always
be with you." One of the most tender scenes in the
film is Mary Wallace teaching Luca Shakespeare's
Romeo and Juliet by having him construct a puppet
theater and reading the balcony scene using paper
puppets. The creativity of the teaching exercise, the
intimacy between teacher and student, and the magic
of Shakespeare's language makes the scene come
alive. And then her lesson: "True love lasts forever.
It's the most important thing." Her philosophy of life,
and her willingness to commit herself to Luca, is
summed up in ner criticism of his father: "There are
no illegitimate children in this world—only illegitimate
parents." Sooner or later, everyone in the film comes '
to Mary Wallace, either for advice or to vent his or
her frustration.
When Luca is sent away to Austria by his father—
so that he can learn German language and culture,
Mary Wallace is at the train station with some of the
other women for a proper send-off. In a rousing scene,
the women exhort Luca not to be sad at parting. They
all passionately recite the famous St. Crispin's Day
speech from Shakespeare's Henry Vto take his mind
Vol.39, No. 4, 1999
507
off his loneliness and reinforce the bonds of learning
that have made the boy devoted to the arts, to the
values of the Renaissance as they are embodied in
the arts and culture of Florence, and to the nurture
and caring of the Scorpioni. In every respect what
they accomplish counters everything the father is
trying to achieve by sending the boy to Germany.
Luca really has several parent figures in the film.
Beyond Mary Wallace, other members of the Scorpioni
teach him a variety of perspectives on the arts. Luca
has Arabella (Judi Dench), who takes him around to
galleries and studios, and whose passion for art is
summed up by her credo: "I've drunk deep the wine
of Firenza. I've been warmed at the fires of the Botticelli and Michelangelo." He also has Georgina, an
American archeologist who is devoted to the antiquity of Florence. Georgina is a lesbian. She wears
slacks and shirts, and she doesn't hesitate to literally
fight for what she believes in. In one scene, she takes
on a group of Fascist Black Shirts who are harassing the old women in the Uffizi Gallery, and at the
end of the film she fights with a Nazi soldier who is
trying to stop the old women from protesting the
destruction of ancient bell towers. But Georgina's
sexuality is a nonissue to the Scorpioni, and thus Luca
learns an important lesson about the way this tightly
knit community accepts diversity.
But a fourth and crucial parent figure for Luca is
Elsa, an expatriate American who was a friend of
Luca's mother. Elsa (Cher) is wholly passionate, larger
than life, glamorous, irrepressible, energetic, and selfabsorbed. Cher plays the role of the middle-aged diva
with flair. She loves Picasso, Florence, and all things
beautiful. She offers Luca what the other Scorpioni
cannot offer—another perspective on life, a first love,
a personal connection to his mother. Yet Elsa also
confirms the lessons that are coming at Luca from
the old women: If Arabella is all feeling, Mary Wallace
balances that with thinking. Likewise, when Elsa shows
Luca her gallery, she emphasizes, "Makes you feel,
makes you think." Elsa also affirms the Scorpioni
when she tells Luca, "I respect them—they're old."
Elsa is on the brink of old age herself. For now she
can flaunt her body and her beautiful face. But soon
she will be passed by because she will be old. Her
knowledge of this reality provides us with an insight
into the vulnerability of her character. She is constantly marrying rich old men so that she can continue to live out her glamorous lifestyle. But when
she is courted by a handsome young Italian lawyer,
she falls for his act because she believes—wrongly—
that he loves her for herself.
However important Mary Wallace is to Luca's development, she is more of a kindly grandmother figure to Luca than a representation of his mother. In
effect, Elsa is the mother figure who is desired by
other men, and thus a model for his emerging sexuality. Mary Wallace and Elsa's teaching provides complementary perspectives for the boy's development.
Mary Wallace teaches him the importance of moral
conduct, civility, and the rules of gentlemanly behavior. Elsa teaches him more about psychological and
emotional aspects of human development by offering
him an outlet for practicing those traits in the complex arena of human interactions.
One other character needs to be compared to Mary
Wallace. The "official" leader of the Scorpioni is Lady
Hester (Maggie Smith), an imposing, often pompous
old woman who is never at a loss for words when
someone needs to be criticized for what she regards
as uncivil behavior. Lady Hester is infatuated with
Mussolini, partly because he makes the trains run on
time," but mostly because he presents himself as a
strong man who is in control of events. Lady Hester
never lets people forget that her "late husband" was
the ambassador to Italy. She views herself and the
other Scorpioni as possessing a taste for the finer
things in life—a characteristic that sets them apart from
the common horde. Her inflated sense of her own
importance is her most annoying trait. When Mussolini's Black Shirts harass the Scorpioni, Lady Hester
arranges to have tea with Mussolini in order to be
assured that a mistake has been made. At the end of
the film, Lady Hester's devotion to Mussolini is compared to Elsa's adoration of her new Italian lover: they
were both vulnerable because they trusted the wrong
men.
Lady Hester likes to view herself as the leader of
the Scorpioni. In truth she is most effective when she
expresses moral outrage and is a firm presence in the
face of bureaucratic inflexibility or other small-minded
attitudes. Even during her brief tea with Mussolini,
she demonstrates some of her indomitable character.
Here again the difference between Lady Hester and
Mary Wallace is significant. Mary Wallace is the practical leader of the group, but Lady Hester gets the
best speeches. When the women are confined to a
basement dormitory, Mary Wallace takes charge
and sets up private and functional living arrangements. But Lady Hester is the one who throws out
two guards when they come to count heads that night
—and the women are in nightgowns. No one expresses moral outrage better than Lady Hester does.
But when Elsa's life is in danger, and she is about to
be betrayed by her lover, Mary Wallace steps forward and persuades Lady Hester to intervene on
Elsa's behalf. During this confrontation Luca is present
and again can learn from his mentor, Mary Wallace.
Her lesson: Sometimes one has to act, even though
that action requires humility and an acknowledgment
of one's vulnerability. In effect, what Luca learns is
that it takes all of the Scorpioni (the village in the
context of this film) in order to raise a child. One
needs the Mary Wallaces, the Arrabellas, the Elsas,
and even the Lady Hesters.
The last scene of the film has a delightful comic
touch that reinforces the bonds of these old women
and the lessons they have taught the young boy. As
Allied forces mass just outside the hilltop village where
the Scorpioni have been held, the Nazis decide to
blow up some of the towers in the city before they
retreat. But Arabella, the most passionate of the
Scorpioni, comes to the rescue and defies the commander. She entwines herself around the wiring to
the explosives and prepares to die for her precious
ideals. Just as the commander holds up his pistol to
shoot her, Lady Hester and the others arrive on the
scene and defy him too. "Stop this nonsense at once!"
Lady Hester fumes. She castigates him for even considering the idea of "blowing up old ladies!" All the
other Scorpioni entwine the blast wires around their
bodies. The director cuts to a stunning climactic shot
—panning across four groups of old women—all of
whom are joined in this act of defiance. Of course,
they carry the day, and when the Allies arrive, with
Luca in tow (he has become a member of the Resistance), Mary Wallace is there to congratulate him
for becoming "the perfect English gentleman!" When
the film ends, Zeffirelli adds several graphics that
relate details about the women's lives after the war.
The graphic on Mary Wallace is simple and touching: "Mary Wallace looked after the children. She
taught them right from wrong."
Selected Filmography of Feature-Length Films on Aging
who never married, have lived a quiet life devoted
to the religious community their father developed many
years ago. Fourteen years ago, a young woman namea
Babette, a refugee from war in Pans, entered the lives
of the old women. Her presence is felt in the tiny
community by her good works and her wonderful
cooking. When Babette wins the Paris lottery, she spends
all of her winnings to prepare a sumptuous French
dinner. One of the guests suspects, rightly, that she is
a famous Paris chef For one night the shallow lives
of the members of the community are enriched by
Babette's feast.
Antonia's Line. (Holland, 1996).
Dir. Marleen Gorris. After the end of World War
II a middle-aged woman returns to her home in Holland after being away for 20 years. Soon she goes
about restoring community to this morally bankrupt
village and its embedded patriarchy. She resolves crises, roots out evil and moral decay, and draws people
to her. Before long she becomes the matriarch. Central to her story are the dinners she serves at long
tables in her front yard, surrounded by her extended
family.
Babette's Feast. (Denmark, 1987).
Reviewed Vol. 32, No. 3, 1992. Dir. Gabriel Axel.
Based on a tale by Karen Blixen, the film tells the
story of a small remote village where two old sisters,
Central Station. (Brazil, 1998).
Dir. Walter Salles. A retired schoolteacher ekes
out a living by writing letters for illiterate people in
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