Papagordo: en casa de Raimundo Amador.

Laura Llamas, Víctor Morilla/Spain/60 min/ 2011

Synopsis

Heroes in slippers. The nickname bestowed by his granddaughter (“my fat pappy”) entitles a family documentary like few before it: one that carries closeness to unexplored territories. You see, great musicians also eat and piss and love their kids, and here we find one of the laureates in his natural habitat: his home. This is not a film about his musical career, moreover an approach to his authentic day-to-day existence (albeit one without corner store gossip). This isn’t the genius of flamenco-rock guitar, but the guy at the fishmongers (“gimme a little tuna and some Galician clams”), father of six and grandfather of four, who grumbles about gaining weight (“I’m like a pig”) or his old foe, angina. The gentleman who got short-changed, who bickers with his wife – of 32 years – because the house is stuffed with guitars and records, the chap who’s chuffed to appear in Rockdelux: the real man. And the guy we see – how can we put it – is so human and homey that you’ll all fall in love. To bid us farewell, the last shot of his house is an image that defines the man –the tile on the door that spells it out: “A musician lives here.”