On the way home, I was still reminiscing the plot of the film. From when the hero and the heroine met for the first time, Deborah knocked on the finger of the cigarette case, to the end of the misunderstanding, smiled with tears, every action, every sigh, was uncontrollable. Pity and respect!
Recall the actresses of that era, whether it’s Hepburn in "A Fair Lady", Vivien Leigh in "A Streetcar Named Desire", or Bergman in "Casablanca", regardless of the female role in the film or occupation Regardless of whether it is a prostitute, an Office Lady, or an innocent nun, they all act with elegance, showing the coquettishness and tenacity of women. And the strangest thing is that such a temperament, when placed on the role they play, does not make people feel abrupt, but is naturally harmonious.
This miracle can only be born in an era when romantic and classical coexist: in an era full of ups and downs and hopes, because you are in it, you know how to say goodbye to the past with deep respect and courage, so that you can blend the classical and the modern. This kind of diametrically opposite temperament interprets femininity to the extreme of fragility, while faintly revealing independence and self-confidence.
This is something that people nowadays can’t comprehend. In Hollywood, I think Merian Streep and Jane Seymour still have this kind of temperament, and they are all getting old. The era of fluttering white clothes, really It is gone and cannot be returned.
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