The intention at the beginning and the end of the film is worth pondering. The owl hit the ground with his eyes open. Javier stood peacefully in the birch forest. A teenager said that this place used to be a sea. The corner of Javier's mouth twitched, and a long-lost smile suddenly appeared on the face in the film, which may have been the only breath of oxygen in the past two and a half hours. The vicissitudes of life have long been flooded in the compositions of high school students, but the teenager who used to be a man of sorrow had to take off his hat to pay tribute to the Mexican director.
Last weekend, passing by the old movie theater in the center of the city, I suddenly found a long queue at the door. For Ottawa, with a population of one million, queues to watch an art film are rare.
This old movie theater is outrageous, the neon lights at the door are flashing, and the release schedule is hung with a few words of biutiful. Emotional things can't be explained clearly, even the first time we meet, it's incredible.
I only came to see it after a week, and when I walked home in the cold wind, my mind was abnormally clear.
What kind of movie is this?
The movie needs to put a person in a desperate situation in a surreal way. It needs this person to maintain his unrestrained dignity in the face of death, to shed tears but not appear cowardly, and to look at death strongly. I rely on! Who but Javier can take on this role.
The director seems to have a life-long pursuit of life and death, and the previous films have all developed under a similar life-and-death proposition. If I meet this director at the corner of the street one day ten years later, I might tell him about Confucius, the dogma of knowing life and death. The problem of living has not yet been clarified, and death is too far away. Is it interesting that you make three movies and say one truth? He smoked a cigarette for a while and said, "Since I took biutiful, I gave up the possibility of answering."
Before he died, Javier held his daughter's hand and talked about the waves. At that time, the impact was intermittent, and the tough guy lamented that he was afraid of the sea, because he remembered the unfathomable depths below. There are so many thoughts that don't always pop up in my mind, where to go after death, and then dissipate quickly. To be precise, we deliberately ignore this problem, just like Javier is afraid of the sea, who can easily bear this proposition pressure.
The grief for two and a half hours has not stopped. It would be an exaggeration to say that it is sensational, but the people who are queuing up to buy tickets to watch movies in the cold wind are running for this. Everyone has a psychological need. What pain and happiness? Pure nonsense, only after pain can you be happy. People live silently for a period of time, drinking coffee is numb, and watching the screen is numb, not just need a movie to wake up.
It's a good film, but I can foresee that the director has already said badly about this subject matter. It's just three things, and it will be difficult to say anything interesting in the future. I think it's still far-fetched to translate it into a beautiful mistake, let me think about it.
It's called: beautiful death.
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