The faces we will lose

Last Saturday the agents of Bruce Willis denied that the actor, suffering from aphasia, had sold his image to the company Deepcake;

current US law doesn't even allow it today.

There are countless moral, philosophical, aesthetic, economic bifurcations in the possibility of such a transaction.

Some of them were explored by Ari Folman in the first half of the very interesting

when Robin Wright Penn, harassed by age —that reality changed into illness by the industry— digitizes her body, her voice, and her face so that an eternally young version of her continue interpreting films.

Robin Wright Penn, the brand.

Bruce Willis, the avatar.

In South Korea, the documentary

in which through virtual reality a mother managed to hug her daughter for the last time, who died at the age of seven.

Ramón Gómez de la Serna already predicted that the dead would start walking before hell was full (as in

).

The Korean documentary reflects a technological possibility that can alleviate the mourning or can make it never end.

We have to die to give others a chance to live.

Our time is finite;

always it was.

To prolong the life of an actor beyond his disappearance is to lose ourselves to the actors that will come.

There was a generation that didn't think there was a better actress than Theda Bara.

But her parents thought she was better than Sarah Bernhardt.

Those who saw Mary Pickford did not believe that there was anything better after.

The same thing happened to those who heard Greta Garbo speak afterwards.

Those who applauded Rita Hayworth so much did not understand it that way.

Audrey Hepburn left the building one day, and Liza Minelli inhabited it.

The chair was occupied by Jessica Lange.

The stars are not like before, but things are never like before.

They never have been.

If death is paused, no one will be born.

You can follow EL PAÍS TELEVISIÓN on

Subscribe to continue reading

read without limits

Keep reading

I'm already a subscriber