The story of these Argentinian tango legends begins more than 100 years ago.
The origins
Emerging from the slums of Buenos Aries at the end of the 19th century, tango was originally the music and dance of poor immigrants.
A unique blending of African rhythms, Neapolitan violin playing, Spanish guitar and countless other influences from that South American melting pot, this was world music long before the term was fashionable.
Over the next few years it spread like wildfire, bringing the ardent spirit of the young Latin America to the world.
1950s revival
The craze died down in the hardships of the Great Depression, but was revived in Argentina as a matter of national pride by the populist long-serving ruler Juan Peron in the 1950s (when many of the stars of this film were in the prime of their youth).
Continuing to reflect the ebb and flow of the country's fortunes, tango suffered again during the years of dictatorship in the latter half of the century when public gatherings were repeatedly banned. So it's small wonder that this filmed gathering in the capital city's most prestigious venue is such an emotional event for all those involved.
Uniquely life affirming
Age may have added a few lines to the faces of these maestros and taken the colour from their hair, but it hasn't dimmed their delight in music. There's something uniquely life affirming in watching such august figures still getting as excited as small boys, still as eager to perform as when they were 'neighbourhood sparrows' making their names in the smoky cafes of Buenos Aires. They are true fans and their enthusiasm is infectious.
Director Miguel Koran
It's also clear that director Miguel Koran is equally ardent about tango. So much so that, aside from some evocative archive footage of old Buenos Aires and a brief trip to the races with the elegant Juan Carlos Godoy, the camera never strays far from the all-important bandoneóns and pianos.
Koran is happy to let the music do the talking and it does so with aplomb as rehearsals, studio sessions and impromptu sing-alongs all whet the appetite for the climactic concert.
Teatro Colon performance
When the ageing musicians gather in the Teatro Colon, they don't disappoint. The theatrical backstage activities - with multiple declarations of undying love and proclamations on the genius of the performers - are entertaining enough, but, once again, music is king here. Who, after all, could fail to be impressed by an octogenarian blasting out lyrics like: 'Traitress! After sipping love's rose, you leave me. Cheat!'
Best of all is the ruined beauty of soprano and one time film-star Virginia Luque, who manages to maintain her dignity even though her feather boa has dropped from her shoulders and she does her set with half of it trailing on the floor. She's superb, and it's enough to bring a tear to the eye of even the stoniest cynic. As is the revelation of the end of the film that three of its stars died before the final edits took place, sadly proving how much of a grand finale the concert in the Colon was – and how important this film is as a historical document and for aficionados of Argentine tango.
