Without Dustin Hoffman, I wouldn't even plan to watch this film that sounds like an American commercial movie—even if it has a grown-up Natalie.
In fact, I really underestimated it. I was really quiet when I saw one-third, and I was completely moved when I saw two-thirds. After reading it, I had to go back and find the moving passages again.
In fact, both the people in the play and the audience are shining by the immortal Hoffman. Without him, this work can basically be ignored completely; but fortunately with him, this old guy with a heavy nasal voice and always an innocent expression holds up all the delicate details. I don’t know how old he is. At least thinking about his amazing face in the "Graduate" and the sluggish posture that made me cry so many tears in the "Rain Man", I seem to have seen it for a long time. Dear grandpa.
Unlike Pacino, who is still a hard bone after he gets old; nor is he still upright and graceful after he gets old; like Eastwood, Dustin Hoffman, who has never been blunt, is still old. After that, she became softer and more humble.
The two calm monologues before he left were completely moved. Not the content, but the content from his mouth.
The little boy in PS is too cute. And that sad little monkey toy is too unique.
37seconds.
Great. Now we wait.
No. We breathe. We pulse. We regenerate.
Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest.
37ceconds, well used, is a lifetime.
When King Lear dies in Act 5, do you know what Shakespeare has written?
He's written, “He dies.”
That's all, nothing more.
No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words.
The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic literature is: “he dies.”
It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with “He dies.”
And yet every time I read those two words, I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria.
And I know it's only natural to be sad, but not because of the words “He dies,” but because of the life we saw prior to the words.
I've lived all five of my acts, Mahoney, and I am not asking you to be happy that I must go.
I'm only asking that you turn the page, continue reading…and let the next story begin.
And if anyone ever asks that became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest “He died.”
Your life is an occasion.
Rise to it.
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