By the end of the 1960s, the new diaspora of Hellenism was complete. The high priest of this era was Stelios Kazantzidis, while Boulgari played the role of the kitten for half a century, Xanthopoulos bore the hereditary weight of a nation, either a legitimate or illegitimate child of it, and veggos, Thanasis, the man of the slap, the secretly living Greek, was running relentlessly to catch the dream, but also a loaf of bread.

Commercial cinema was heading towards its bankruptcy. The N.E.C. (New Greek Cinema) was born and fought for a place in the sun and the audience. It would conquer titles and awards, with its directors wearing an excessively spectacular halo, but would face an equally excessive indifference from the masses. The new creators ignored the audience. They consciously paid the price of their endeavor and consciously followed their Golgotha.

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