The Colonel waits. The army has promised him a pension, but that was years ago. Every Friday he sits on the quayside with his best suit on, waiting for the letter to confirm his pension. Everyone in the small town knows that he is waiting in vain. He knows it himself too. But the Colonel clings onto his dream, what else does he have? His skinny and asthmatic wife Lola hides her hunger and occasionally seeks solace in the local cinema. The Colonel is ashamed of his poverty. From time to time he visits Julia, a prostitute with a heart of gold who gives the elderly couple some food, which they accept reluctantly. Their hope is now focused on the possible successes of the fighting cock of their dead son. El coronel no tien quien le escriba is a masterfully directed version of the novella by Gabriel García Márquez. The author who was once co-writer of Ripstein’s film début, Tiempo de morir (1965), was very satisfied with the film version, that was screened last year in competition at Cannes. The moving story is told subtly and effectively, but the film is an unforgettable experience largely thanks to the actors (especially Marisa Paredes as Lola).
