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Title: Disappointing
Review: Compared to K., P. is a big disappointment. What Reggio needs to learn is that once political messages are too directly inserted, art flies out the door. The message and title of this film indicate that we in the "first world" are guilty of living off the sweat and lifeblood of those in the "third world." Isn't that essentially what the artist - Reggio or any other artist - does in a metaphorical sense? Don't artists subsist on the lifeblood of patrons, or "angels" as Reggio calls them in the interview at the end of K.? As such, P. can be seen as a work of immense guilt and masochistic self-hate. I dearly hope that N., the third installment in this trilogy, gets back on track and gets back to art, with a less contrived Glass soundtrack.
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