El último taller de instrumentos

As "The Last Repair Shop" (2023 release; 39 min.) opens, the opening credits reminds us that Los Angeles is one of the last cities providing repaired instruments for free to its public students, who are more likely than not minorities. We are then introduced to a a young Black girl as she speaks into the camera: "I love the violin!", and she tells her story how she became enamored with the violin. In a parallel story, we are introduced to a guy whose is responsible for fixing string instruments like the violin. At this point we are 5 minutes into the film.

Couple of comments: "The Last Repair Shop" profiles 4 students and 4 repair people. Each and every single one of them has a deeply human and moving story as to their background and how they ended up taking up an instrument or repairing these instruments. This short documentary demonstrates the power of storytelling. No social effects needed! The film itself is carefully crafted. I was in particular impressed by the score that is featured, itself a marvel of classical music. I must admit that when the end credits started rolling, I was emotionally not ready to say goodbye to these people and their incredible soties.

"The Last Repair Shop" earned a well-deserved Short Documentary Oscar nomination. I was not familiar with the film at all, until I saw a "For Your Consideration" ad for it in the Sunday New York Times this weekend. The ad mentioned that this is now streaming on Hulu, and I immediately decided to check it out. So glad I did. If you are in the mood for a deeply moving and uplifting movie experience that will remind us of the value of the arts in our schools and communities, I'd readily suggest you check this out and draw your own conclusion.

"The Last Repair Shop" is a poem in prose, a hymn to memory and resistance against the tyranny of disposability. It is an invitation to celebrate the beauty of what was created with love, to listen to the stories that old objects have to tell.

At the end of the journey, we are touched by a sweet melancholy and a deep gratitude. Melancholy for the loss of a world where objects were valued and repaired, and gratitude for finding, amidst the fast pace of modern life, a haven where time slows down and memory finds shelter.

May this film inspire in each of us a passion for preservation, respect for the past, and the search for beauty in simple things. May we all be guardians of time, restoring not only objects, but also the memories that reside within them.

I cannot stress enough the value of watching this moving Documentary. As another user said, "not nearly long enough." It left me wanting more for sure- is a good way. Wonderfully written, shot, & edited. And the sound! Using the kids in the score recording was genius. You will not be sorry you spent the time. The experience helps remind you people have stories and are worth spending the time to listen & learn about. Music is such an important part of our lives. In so many unique and various ways sound touches us all. Whether you play or just listen- even if you play for your own pleasure or professionally, or casually listen or you're a diehard hard fan, music moves you.

It is a film as useful kick to hope. Maybe, in some measure, to forms of joy.

Four people, fixing musical instruments of students, offer their stories.

Few young musicians confesse their strong connection with their instrument.

In Los Angeles , a repair shop, maybe the last, offering, from 1959, the support for good fonction of musical instruments.

Not the story itself is real significant, but the state inspired by the words of this people. Because it is a sort of return to the comfort of survive, in almost brave manner, of a stable old world , defined by dedication and by passion and personal dramas and careful gestures and empathy.

Beautiful documentary, no doubts. But, first, profound useful.

Far too short as it hardly touches on the actual repairs, instrument ones that is. That could have been technically interesting, but this is a story of how music and the provision of the instruments, often to those too poor to afford them can change or be a new start in their young lives. This is brought into focus by the same effects that music had on the repair staff themselves, as they each recount the difficulties and for some the deep emtional trauma that they still carry. For one of whom, reminded me of the stories told and witnessed by Jewish families, with the same lasting bewilderment of how, why then their lives changed in an instant., what it was is no longer.