Сны Иосифа

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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.