To be honest, if Cohen's film lacks a little dark humor and is purely "mysterious", I guess I can't watch it. But now I not only watch it, I love it, and that weird and sarcastic tone has made me fall in love with Cohen.
Barton Fink is a textbook populist, and I haven't seen anyone who fits the profile of a populist since I read many examples of populism in preparation for my pre-class speech. Barton Fink claims to write for the people, and every time he talks about this topic, he gets excited like an angry youth/white leftist, but he just likes the concept of "people", and scoffs at Charlie, a living ordinary individual. Involuntarily putting on a superior posture in front of him, Charlie tried to tell his story three times, but he was interrupted three times. When he was dancing in the place closest to ordinary people, he made no secret of his disdain for ordinary people.
In addition to populism there is outright cynicism. Although he knows that his works may not be really "for the people", and that it is not enough to be recognized by those critics who are flattering and flattering, he only dares to talk about his emotions in front of people of the same class or lower status than himself. They think they are more "grassroots" and greater than the flattering upper class, in order to gain a little sense of moral superiority, but they don't know that they are the same raccoon dog, but they falsely claim to be their "creator" (although writers are somewhat creators) complex). Who knows that the real people don't eat this set at all - sad! Poor Barton Fink finally realized that he was writing for this group of navy and army who were fighting each other!
This is not a movie with split personality as a gimmick. After all, there are still many people who think that Charlie is not another personality of Patton. I really liked the presentation of Earl's Hotel. The waiter who got out of the ground, the faint moaning through the wall, and the damn mosquito that tortured people - I must have been tortured by mosquitoes too! It's wonderful to use the plague of mosquitoes as a metaphor for the bottleneck in writing. Although mosquitoes are small, they can linger all night, and when the light is turned on, they are nowhere to be found. Barton Fink was a psychologically fragile writer who came to Los Angeles with no support, and this long-term loneliness resembled the chronic torment of mosquitoes. Mosquitoes were finally shot to death that morning, but the end of one torture was only the beginning of another nightmare... When the wallpaper just fell off, it was like a man being skinned, and the bright red walls were blood and flesh, just right Echoing what Charlie said later in the fire: It's so hot that sometimes I really want to peel this skin off. Besides, Charlie hadn't really told Barton Funk any stories, and never let him into his room, and despite the leather shoes on both sides of the corridor, he never saw any of the travelers... I suspect that the illusion started before Patton killed the mosquito. After all, Audrey had so much blood, how could there be no wounds? Charlie, the embodiment of the hotel and the real people, shouted to the Jew Patton Funk in hellfire: Long live Hitler! On the one hand, it echoes the time, on the other hand, it is the revolt of the people in the heart of Barton Fink, who has returned from the dance, to his empty and shaken beliefs.
At the end, Button Funk finally went to the beach he had always dreamed of, and saw the girl who thought "it's impossible to appear in the movie". She raised her hand to shade, and the seagulls in the distance were caught off guard. flying in the sun.
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