Zaragoza 1968. An actor is strolling along the streets with a lamb tied to one hand and a book, One-Dimensional Man by Herbert Marcuse, in the other, whereby we are not sure which of the two things is more surprising to passers-by. Once more, the film is a brothel, dedicated to Rimbaud and presented as a handelequia. We red on screen the words written by Nietzsche to Durrel and Lezama Lima. The script which is intended to be read live presents us with an exercise of metacine with references to the film itself (“This film is an immature film, made up of many unfulfilled crimes”) and a film as a manifesto, (“Spain is a country without textile workers, only models that smell nice, complex country”). A caged monkey, a man, who is filmed bare-chested, a mannequin that blocks the path of a tram, a trumpet player who crosses the Ebro as if it were the Ganges… Maenza’s films advance in a harmonic chaos, like the orgies that are also present in his films, where a shot surprisingly overlaps with another and it is unknown how long they will form a joint sequence nor what will come next.
