When I got there, I found out that today was the premiere, and it was a three-dimensional movie of a huge screen IMAX. It happened to be in time for Friday night. With a big glass of Coke you can swim in. It can be seen that boy's fashion is in the juncture era: half of them wear trousers with crotch sweeping, half wear trousers as tight as dachshunds. I really, have forgotten that movies are a sanctuary for screaming half-year-olds.
The movie is quite good-looking, clean and neat heroism, no sprinkling of true love pepper, and no ordinary people stretch their arms to the heroes who have been led astray by extraordinary courage and wisdom. "The mediocre warmth of the big family. It's a pity that the opening part is a bit too bloody and sticky. I've always been as timid as a mouse. When Grendel, the carrion-shaped devil, started to kill and twisted people like a towel, I screamed and plunged into my boyfriend's arms. I didn't open until the screen calmed down. eye slit. The boyfriend was apologetic and whispered, "I didn't expect it to be like this. Legend has it that Grendel is a dragon, should we leave?" I said no. After all, the trauma has already happened, and the suspense that the remaining half has no ending is even more annoying. So for the rest of the time, once Grendel showed up, I covered my eyes until his ugly head was thrown off the screen. Grendel is a tragic devil, even when his hands are bloodied and he stutters, he only utters a whimper like a cold wind. After the slaughter, he returned to the Bishui Hantan cave, sighed, and fell asleep curled up on a small stone platform. His mother's deep voice soothed it, along with a black and red bifurcated body organ. I thought it was her tongue at first, but then I realized it was her tail. A monster as ugly and murderous as Grendel would, according to Hollywood convention, die in the first half of the movie. Sure enough it came true. The real enemy is the mother behind the scenes.
Beowulf is indisputably a hero: a hero who subdues dragons and tigers with his bare hands. He likes to fight monsters, he likes his fame to spread, and he likes beautiful things: the queen of the beautiful old king, the beautiful golden dragon horn cup. . . He's too masculine, and his thirst for victory and vain yearning makes him weak at crucial moments. Beautiful Grendel's mother. She rose from the water, dripping from her round breasts and long round legs made of gold. She hovered around Beowulf, her fingers stroking, the sword melted into water. Beowulf could not escape her temptation, her beauty, and the promise of the future: as long as the Golden Dragon Horn Cup is with her, he is the greatest king. He accepts it all, completely unaware of the price to be paid in the future. BeoWulf got everything the witch mother had promised; kingdoms and lands, great fame, old king's queen, and younger and more beautiful women, and he was getting older, dressed in fancy clothes, riding on horses, and chasing things, letting People spread his great fame everywhere. In private, however, he said, "I died many years ago." The
price finally came when the golden dragon horn cup was picked up by a slave and returned to him. The old hero, already with white beard and temples and wearing the king's red velvet tunic, threw the horn cup to the ground in horror. At the same time, he and the witch's son, a young, handsome and evil young man, turned into a dragon and burned down the village. BeoWulf knew his retribution was coming. He put on his armor again, ready to fulfill his destiny. Beowulf is a true hero, because he did not wait for the next young man to undo his fate, as the previous king did. His bravest moment was when he confessed to the queen he had been afraid to face for years: I was weak in front of her, I lied to the people, and I'm sorry for you. I'm going to fix it all. Beowulf slits the dragon's throat, takes out his heart, falls on the gravel beach, and dies in relief, before he can fully tell the secrets that have haunted his life.
Beowulf had a king's funeral. Nordic warriors were cremated. He was dressed in the king's armor, with a sword in his chest, and was placed on a tall Norwegian ship, surrounded by gold and jewels. The funeral boat set sail, and people poured kerosene from the towers and lit the sails of the Grey Wolf flag. The flames blazed, and the ship sailed to the sea. The face of the witch appeared in Hypo, and then the body. She leaned over to the hero and finally kissed him. The ship capsized and sank. The witch continues to search for the next recipient of the curse.
The special effects of the 3D movie are really moving: flying in the snowy night, the dead branches of the northern country seem to be scraped from the audience's face. High mountains and deep valleys, as if you are in the realm. It's also very scary to use it only for grim special effects. The monster's big mouth seems to bite my face off.
The power of religion seems less and less popular in Hollywood. The representation of Christianity in the film is pathetic and weak. When disaster strikes, you will only lift up the cross. The Prime Minister was a little evil in his youth and thought he was an enemy buried deep beside the King. When Grendel first raged, he persuaded the old king to convert to the new gods that came from Rome. When Beowulf was old, he was a hunched old man, holding a cross and a scripture, muttering to himself every day. Because of the religion that teaches obedience, the man shrivels up like a rotten apple, before he has time to do evil.
It may be because of the pressure of equal rights between men and women, the male protagonist who has undergone animation processing seizes every opportunity, and creates opportunities when there is no opportunity, takes off his clothes and shows his body. For this he even fought the devil naked. It's just that during the galloping and vertical leap, his key parts are always covered just right. A hero must be born in line with the aesthetics of the times: Beowolf is tall and strong, with thick blond hair tied into a ponytail at the back of his head, and there is no fat between the pectoralis major and the rectus abdominis. Chest hair and armpit hair, both grow in moderation. Seeing the young Beowulf undressed and lying on the table ready to go to bed, I sighed in my heart: It is not easy to be the perfect hero in an era of harsh aesthetics.
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