For this year's New York Film Festival, turn off all the lights in a small room in Ithaca and turn it on with Nomadland. Above the wilderness, drifting along the folds of aphasia.
Nomad, so the rotation of the four seasons makes discrete spaces also fall into the roulette wheel; so the huge modern factory, the temporary prefabricated house in the visitor center, the highway rest station, and the folding chair by the campfire, all become the moment on the space clock.
Nomad, so no support, no support is no support, but there is a basis. Mountains are the basis for the movement of the earth's crust, snow is the basis for seasonal reincarnation, seeing Jupiter tonight is the basis for Jupiter's light in 1987, the eggshell floating on the water is the basis for new life, the sonnet I can recite is the basis for your existence The basis for the past, that worn-out truck is the basis for me to still walk.
An anti-cave road movie in 2020 when all humans return to the cave. However, the cave is fake, the suspension is real, the hardship is real, and how to digest the loss and how to escape from the establishment is an eternal proposition. How to liberate yourself within the range designated by the establishment, how to continue living within the range designated by memory, and how to exist most endlessly within the range designated by the flesh?
"But this time it's going to go further
No anger, no betrayal, but stillness and permanence"
Nowhere to go, and I will hear you again.
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