The child's drawing depicting Alberto Carlos Bustos could be a kind of superhero who has flown through all the skies of lyricism and revelry, but also a simple, humble character, almost an antihero with traits ranging from error to short-circuiting. Drawn by me at the age of 7 , I look at it closely: are the lines trying to complete something, to give shape amid chaos? It could be, after all, that is one of the fundamental premises of any superhero.
If we bring him down to Planet Earth and invite him to participate in our film, we assume he will be delighted to play the municipal worker and bird proposed by Miguel Ángel Solá. His obsession is urban paving. The municipal worker's task is extensively described in the author's wonderful posts, which you can visit on the blog Los Verdes Platónicos. There you will find intense laughter, bittersweet tragedies, and poetic nonsense that surpasses surrealism. His other obsession is words and love, and from there we embark on the odyssey through this film.
Words. That's how we begin. The author mentions them, and I give them shape. Paz, Martín, and Florencia are good traveling companions, and on this journey, the five of us try to pay homage to the Seventh Art. We are telling a love story through the most sacred form of poetry. It is born with words, which in the voice of the performer become music, an emotional, profound ballad, faithful to its sentimental or romantic origins, to its melancholic atmosphere, to its bittersweet epic, to its ending... open? And why is it infinite? Because this is just the beginning.
The drawing depicting Leidi Bustos could be an image of what once was, melancholy immersed in very simple and kind features that smile from a distant past and extend their arms, wanting to give or receive an apapacho.* Made by me at the age of five, while diving into the well-stocked folder that my grandmother and mother kept with my first works, I found this almost sketch, which is part of a general drawing, made on those giant sheets, with good weight and texture, that we used in primary school.
Leidi, which comes from Lady, may symbolize a certain constant doubt on the part of the protagonist, the intermittent longing for an answer about what love means. Both figures, Leidi and Bustos, appear in all the modules of the film: they come together, they drift apart, they move away, they come together again... Miguel Ángel Solá poeticizes them with his voice, making them fly or descend to the depths of their hearts, and if we allow ourselves to delve into an original narrative like this one, we can feel both spirits—or something similar, elevated—passing through the screen, along with love and words, the love of words.
Leidi and Alberto Carlos Bustos seem to have known each other forever, at least since childhood. They can also represent the metaphor of time and what it does when it shakes up emotions. The girl and the superhero affirm, question, laugh softly, joke a little, then suffer and find solutions along the way (or throughout the film, or in the protagonist's voice) to return to the fray as two seasoned romantics.
Nicolás García Sáez
*Apapacho is a word of Nahuatl origin widely used in Mexico and other parts of Latin America that refers to a show of affection, a type of hug that is more than just the physical act of hugging; it is about giving comfort, helping to heal, and providing refuge.
Alberto Carlos Bustos is a fictional character created by Miguel Ángel Solá and brought to life in Argentina and Spain through plays, radio shows, songs, and texts between the mid-1980s and mid-1990s. Since then, the protagonist of the saga Vida, Obra, Sexo y Arte de Alberto Carlos Bustos, municipal y pájaro (Life, Work, Sex, and Art of Alberto Carlos Bustos, Municipal and Bird), written by Solá, took a break from his journey for a few years and is now reborn in new writings, which were published on the blog Los Verdes Platónicos and in the first part of this audiovisual story that, they say, will be infinite.
His story recounts the tragicomic misadventures of a life marked by romantic setbacks, the past and childhood memories, the tedium of working in public administration, and countless hilarious situations featuring imperfect characters who grapple with failure, humor, routine, and literatura.
Bustos is a municipal employee, but above all he is a passionate artist, a poet who writes songs, paints, and sculpts, a bird who flies with his imagination and dreams of being recognized. Thus, his reality unfolds in this dual identity, the official one and the desired one, which Nicolás García Sáez adapts to the image of the superhero, recreating him with a drawing he made as a child, which captures all the existential contradictions of the character. Bustos puts on his mask, adjusts his cape, and wields a ray of light to defeat mediocrity, emerge from anonymity, stop being the little gray man, and speak to a lost love or one about to be recovered. And so, he will pay homage to words, cry out against injustices, extol the virtues of simple pleasures, delve into the world to understand social ills, and shelter them with his cape and his words.
In all this epic of everyday life, Leidi Bustos is always present, as the female figure who embodies ideal love. Full of longing, perhaps it is a childhood fantasy. Bustos will continue his search, and Leidi—or his illusion—will be the beacon that will lead him out of melancholy.
Solá's moving prose and eloquent voice transform Bustos' personal experience into a profound and poetic reflection on the great themes of existence. The film explores the power of images to evoke emotions. In this encounter between the artisanal and the digital, between words and the things they represent, images give substance and amplify the meaning of what is named. Bustos knows that words, by saying things, give meaning to life.
Florencia Suárez Guerrini