A Hollywood no le gusta nada la realidad. Por buena que sea la historia real, Hollywood prefiere enterrarla bajo una gruesa capa de lo que considera “narrativa” para crear una “buena historia”. Por desgracia, esa “buena historia” suele ser una pila de clichés de tal calibre que ahoga todo lo que pueda haber quedado debajo.
Parece que ha sucedido una vez más con la fascinante historia de Alan Turing:
Because, on the whole The Imitation Game isn’t just bland mediocrity, it’s actually lousy. Its agonisingly shallow, de-historical depiction of Turing as psychological agent never stops being annoying; its embalmed visuals make WWII England look like a diorama rather than a living place; its editing is actively shoddy, mashing frames together without caring in the slightest if they flow or if the performances within them feel continuous. It’s not just awards-bait filmmaking at its most trivially prestigious, but at its most stylistically flat as well. It’s not entirely without value, but not remotely enough to bother with it as a whole.
