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Vivianne 2022-03-13 08:01:01
Fragments of History and Nightmare of Modern Man: Comments on Fellini's "Myth of Love"
What is a "love myth"?
The title of the film, if translated literally, would be "Satilicon of Fellini". The two Latin names spelled together are always confusing. So before that, it is necessary to introduce what "Satilikon" is sacred.
To put it simply, Satyricon is a novel from the Roman Empire. But...
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Hazle 2022-03-13 08:01:01
The Myth of Love: We Love the Living World
Original address: http://www.qh505.com/blog/post/5475.html
The friend Ashdo had grown old and finally fell in the desert; the poet Omope could no longer write poetry, he left a legacy of freedom - while death kept coming, it was new to Nkopi. The beginning: Ashdo died in the desert, and the...

Sandro Dori
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Cleve 2022-04-24 07:01:25
The feeling of the intermittent plot line is actually not bad. After watching it for more than 20 minutes, I gradually indulged in this desolate world. This medieval fairy tale is too sci-fi and has a strong sense of the future. What I feel bad about is that the fragmentation is too serious, the plot of the scene is a little empty, and many actors are very deliberately selected, and there is no one theme that runs through.
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Lupe 2022-03-23 09:03:28
When a lot of people were having a blast (scratching the bed—associating from typing), I chose such a movie that was advertised as a master, classic, erotic... and the key is the Blu-ray version of the "old movie". I don't know if I can't live with myself, I still really don’t want to “go to bed” quickly... The overly dramatic film images show the characters purely in European masks; don’t think that the master’s things are high scores or must be worshipped, I just want to make up for my stunning film festival.
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Trimalcione: Remember, you owe all this luxurious living to me! I endured my master's advances for 14 years. What's wrong with that? The master gives the orders! I entertained the mistress, too. By the will of the gods I ended up sharing the Emperor's inheritance. I built five ships and filled them with lard, perfume and slaves. That started my fortune: everything I touched turned to gold. I was a cockroach, now I'm a king. That's life.
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Eumolpo: Poets may die, Encolpius. But it doesn't matter, if poetry remains.