Huge Question

SarahTGQ,
I lived in New York for a long time, and I often saw that guy with the dancing woman. There was something so weird and delightful about him, the fact that he's so fully engaged in that partnership with the doll. There's also nothing joke-ey about it, he's dancing with the doll like she's a real person. Somehow it's very moving.

I don't know specifically what the director is trying to say, or symbolize, if anything. I do know that no matter how many times I saw that dancing man in Times Square, it was one of those magic New York moments everytime. A glimpse into the mysterious endurance of the human spirit, like Alan King's character walking all the way to Spaten-Duyvill, or John (?) deciding not to pull the trigger.

I'm rambling now, but I think it's like this:
we only have one life, one Tango dance, to participate in. We can skip the Tango, making excuses and saying we don't have a parter, or we can choose to get off our asses and dance with a doll in the center of the world.
This was such a great movie because the images the director used made me think about things like that. I wish more films were as provocative...

Well, Alan King starts out by saying that he's going to walk all the way to the place he swam as a kid with his best friend, who he lost touch with because this friend died. When Alan King finally gets there, there's a man there with his children, and the man says that his father used to walk there the whole time and that he wanted to take HIS children. So I mean, it's not outright stated, but it's implied that this man is the son of Alan King's friend, so that, symbolically, Alan King DID go one last time with his friend. What makes the movie so beautiful is that you never know for sure. Like with the son and the mother - you dont know for SURE that they're related, but THEY know. It's a bit difficult to explain. Perhaps someone can do it better?

Are you the police?
No, ma'am. We're musicians.