Сны Иосифа

暫無暫無暫無尚無足夠評分

Cinema is like poetry. It can grow out of fantasy that became reality, or it can grow out of reality that turned into a dream. Who knows where on the screen lies end and truth begin? In the pavilion of Lenfilm, after shouting "motor" everyone can become a poet, a dream of something more. A glued-on nose can turn you into Joseph Brodsky, and artificial snow will burn you with cold.