He discovered a leak in some part of the roof. Colonel Aureliano Buendia - quartermaster general of the revolutionary forces on the Atlantic coast held out the receipt for the funds, and included the two trunks in his inventory of the surrender. There were other bodies in its place. In spite of the heat, his immaculate linen suit gave off a smell of freshness. The colonel picked it up on the blotter. When he left Sabas's office, he felt a strong wrenching in his gut, but he was aware that this time it wasn't because of the weather.
The colonel was dressed but pants— less. When she got up, the colonel was sitting in the patio. She took a short siesta. No one was watching the goods set out at the Syrians' stalls. In the plaza it began to drizzle again.
The colonel had forgotten the funeral. The storm broke just when the ghost tried to rob the girl's necklace. When I went to look for you this afternoon, I couldn't even see your hat. A man at the waterfront was sleeping across four oil drums, his face protected from the sun by a hat. Returning to cinema after decades of absence, veteran Lujan portrays the Colonel with the right touch of childlike innocence.
Every Friday, he goes down to the docks, dressed in his best suit in anticipation of the arrival of the letter announcing his pension. There was the dead man's mother, shooing the flies away from the coffin with a plaited palm fan. One of them leaned toward him. Then he straightened out the things in his bag. But the colonel was hanging on the actions of the postmaster. His indolent way of moving exasperated the colonel.
More Reviews The Colonel sets his hopes on two dreams; the arrival by mail of his pension, due 27 years ago, and the winning potential of a fighting cock, the sole inheritance of his late son. Pic will be much in demand on the fest circuit, and is sure to make its mark in international arthouse territory. The almond trees in the plaza were shedding their last rotted leaves. She was fat, taller than her husband, and had a hairy mole on her upper lip. But he didn't recognize him because he was stiff and dynamic and seemed as disconcerted as he, wrapped in white cloths and with his trumpet in his hands.
For nearly sixty years— since the end of the last civil war— the colonel had done nothing else but wait. The whole world, or at least the town they live in, seems to be against this elderly couple. Every Friday, the Colonel puts on his only suit and goes to the dock to await a letter announcing the arrival of his pension. He read the letter to his wife. He leaned the stool against the door-jamb and sat down to wait until Alvaro was alone to propose his deal. The proprietor of the pool hall saw the colonel from the door of his place and shouted to him with open arms: 'Colonel, wait, and I'll lend you an umbrella! She wasn't at the dead man's house.
The rooster produced a guttural noise which sounded in the hall like quiet human conversation. Sabas's wife kept speaking about death until she noticed the colonel's absent-minded expression. But she sat up to take the cup. His eyes fell upon other eyes exactly like his own. Weakened by her ill health and distracted only by occasional visits to the local cinema, Lola maintains a more pragmatic view of their predicament. She crossed her knife and fork on the plate, but immediately rectified their positions superstitiously.
An elderly veteran the Colonel , waits for his pension patiently, hoping it will come in each Friday's mail, even as his wife suffers from asthma, and he attends to a valuable gamecock that belonged to their son, who was killed over it. His wife also knows it, and even he knows it. The thunder exploded in the street, entered the bedroom, and went rolling under the bed like a heap of stones. The postmaster tossed the bag onto his shoulder, got off the platform, and replied without turning his head: 'No one writes to the colonel. In the drowsiness of the siesta he saw yellow, dusty train pull in, with men and women and animals suffocating from the heat, piled up even on the roofs of the cars.
They said good morning, and they sat down to eat in silence. During the course of lunch, the colonel realized that his wife was making an effort not to cry. As far as the eye could see, the town was carpeted with flowers. An air-mail letter with blue borders increased his nervous tension; the doctor broke the seal on the newspapers. There was no longer anything in the house to sell, except the clock and the picture. He saw his rooster in the middle of the pit, alone, defenseless, his spurs wrapped in rags, with something like fear visible in the trembling of his feet. She had spent the morning mentally organizing the budget for the next three years without their Friday agony.
Then he tried to erase the letters which had smeared but he smudged them. But we have to wait till Thursday. Veteran Fernando Lujan is remarkable as the Colonel, but Spanish Marisa Paredes shines as the wife who suffers in dignity. His wife was waiting for him. But it's been about five years since they've said anything.