Almost all literary and artistic works describe the lives of others, or a certain period, or a lifetime. Biopics, from childhood to middle age, until the end of life.
There are two things that struck me the most about watching this film.
The first one was when a reporter interviewed her in her later years on the beach and asked: What if you can no longer sing? She was silent for a while, and I couldn't live. There are also several scenes, when her health deteriorated, friends and doctors discouraged her from singing on stage, and she insisted on performing extremely stubbornly until she fainted on the stage.
I don't know if there is anyone in this world who can truly dedicate their life to the one they love and endure severe physical and spiritual pain. As far as I can see, it's just a matter of life, using monthly salary to measure life, mentally numb, like walking dead. I once dreamed of becoming a writer, but I haven't touched a pen for a long time. When I wrote these words, I felt a kind of long-lost kindness. Living in a chaotic world, pursuing that trace of purity is sunshine, redemption, and hope.
The second is the reporter asked: Are you afraid of death? She replied, I am more afraid of loneliness. People in high places, or ordinary people like me, will have lonely times. Wandering around in the middle of the night, the most extreme loneliness is indescribable. I don't know the daily life of real artists, but they all seem to have a stubborn pursuit of art, and their extraordinary lives often have deep pain and regret. Just like the biopics I have seen such as "Becoming Jane Austen" and "Chanel".
These great women are successful in their careers, but they are like dead leaves in the autumn wind at the end of their lives. The close-up of her dying at the end of La Vie Rose reminds me of my grandmother's dying. Perhaps the greatest shock can be obtained by having this kind of personal experience. Maybe as a mortal, I have a kind of blind worship for their extraordinary experiences. They alternate highs and lows in their lives, usher in opportunities, and get through crises. How can they be as thin as dead leaves, trembling, and even eating What about when people are feeding it?
We will grow old, and everything will fade away with the wind, just like the golden rose that first blooms in the spring wind and finally withers in the autumn wind.
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