I thought that was a cool symbol of how badly we need friendship, which feels like an important and timely thing to remember right now. Ultimately it’s Gina’s voice – her call to him, when she shouts his real name, “Marco” – that saves him from losing his final skirmish with Curtis. He’s surprised to learn that people think highly of him, or that they might be there for him when he needs them. Porco is essentially a benevolent force in the film, a sort of begrudgingly kind grouch, like Vin Diesel in The Fast and the Furious – he respects Fio’s engineering work even though she’s a young girl he refuses to shoot a fellow pilot, even when that pilot is the worst guy ever – but he doesn’t believe in himself.
#Porco rosso plane real life movie
The second thing that this movie made me think about is how badly we need each other. I especially like it when the pig sees her from the top of the stairs and then plods down them, a cigarette hanging out his mouth.
It’s just very romantic to me and the pacing is perfect. HE: I love the scene ten minutes in where Porco docks at the Hotel Adriano and walks into the bar where Gina, his love interest, is singing with all the 1930s characters watching on, men particularly captivated. RB: I really liked the scene where Porco flies through the skies to a backdrop of what I remember as classical music, but is probably in fact one of those momentously beautiful and elegant opera songs, like the kind you get in (I think?) season three of The Sopranos when there are loads of funerals. “You love,” as the children say, “to see it.” Also there was a nice scene where Gina is sat in her garden which I liked because a) she’s in a garden and my quarantined brain had forgotten what one of those is and b) because she bodies Curtis – the American pilot – during it.
LO: There’s a scene where everyone at the mechanic’s yard is eating spaghetti and I was like, “I would really go to town on that spaghetti because it looks amazing,” so that is my choice.