The list of directors in the legendary series of HBO was so solid that you did not perceive ups and downs or fainting regardless of who took charge of each chapter. Well, the only thing he feared in The Sopranos They were the ones who carried the signature of their creator, David Chase, who was so fond of twisted dreams and psychoanalysis. But there were Alan Taylor, Terence Winter, Matthew Weiner, Tim Van Patten, people plenty of professionalism and talent. And there are series in which the personality of the director, conductor of all the chapters, was as evident as fundamental. As Soderbergh, total author of the disturbing and splendid The Knick. And Cary Fukunaga filmed the first and masterful season of True Detective. Disappeared and disaster came.
Enrique Urbizu takes over the second and last part of a bloody saga titled Giants, having previously directed the three initial chapters of the series. His style and his world are identifiable in film and television. There are no good ones, they are all bugs, vocationally or irremediably, by tradition or by pleasure. Wild, strong, desperate, nuanced, with no possibility of salvation or redemption. The nerve, the hardness and the vertigo of Urbizu remind me of Fuller's cinema, also to Peckinpah, although less lyrical, and I suspect that he understands very well the literary universe of the electric, amphetamine and demolisher James Ellroy.
I see the final twilight of the shadowy Guerrero family. Family determined to kill each other, but condemned to understand each other, not to forgive each other. The pragmatic and malignant young girl gives a game, is at the height of her parents. Giants It is a series with ups and downs and more than one exaggeration. Also remarkable.