Simplified Chinese name: Songs from the second floor
Screenwriter: Roy Andersson
Director: Roy Andersson
Starring: Lars Nordh / Stefan Larsson / Bengt CW Carlsson
Language: Swedish
Maybe we have to begin to recognize the environment that makes us powerless, we I also have to take responsibility. I believe that the way of life of Westerners inhibits the development of people's potential. When you watch this film, you should understand how stupid human behavior is. Disorders cannibalize people, and the situation is getting worse.
——Roy Andersson is
one of the few film works of Swedish director Roy Andersson. It took more than four years to shoot and produce from 1996 to 2000. It has a unique style. The whole film is composed of 46 perspective shots, such as an absurd and funny stage play. . In this city on the verge of collapse, there are hapless ghosts everywhere, curiously peeping or cold-eyed bystanders, crowds are surging in the same direction, not knowing where to go, traffic jams, and prolonged periods of time.
Is the singing from the second floor the director's sigh of sorrow for humans? Belief in heaven is no longer. Jesus is just a good person among the mentally ill. Businessmen use their desires to use their gambling chips. The ridiculous "monkey" swaying with one arm in the exhibition room is thrown away after being disappointed and trampled on the cross. Useless. God is dead, and people have lost not only faith, but also the civilization that guides human progress. The benefit from experience is to return science to ignorance, use whips to meditate and pray in the procession, study the magic crystal ball transmitted in the conference, and use the grand ceremony of girl sacrifice.
When the holy song sounded, it revealed the sadness of the despair of sentient beings at the end of the century. The furniture salesman who set fire to the shop and wanted to defraud insurance, had a fluke that he would be found out in his heart, standing on the ground among the subway army, the sound of blessing gradually sounded, and expressionless people numbly chanted, this The voice has long been meaningless, just sighs, embarrassing helplessness; misplaced complaints in the church, exhausted crying, and still talking about wiped out property. Regardless of identity, it depends on whether you can add one after the account number. Or two zeros, the sacred music sounded, it is a sad and desperate father and a businessman, a pedestrian who is trapped in a corner, a moaner who is accidentally cesarean by a magician, a doctor whose marriage is broken and relatively speechless; a meticulous but stupid solemn sacrifice, every Individuals have the same belief, cold eyes, sinful hands, the girl is pushed down the cliff, everyone is a little satisfied and comfortable, all the groans from the heart are only for the satisfaction of greed and selfish desire, the salvation of the drunken gold fans in the bar, the erosion It's not just a rotten body that vomits.
Beloved be the ones who sit down, this poem is recited repeatedly in the film, saving, desperate, helpless, crying. The silent poet isolated himself from the world and said nothing. Whispering softly, roaring madness, and greeted heartily, all of this has nothing to do with him. He buried this disgusting world with desperate sobbing. He walked too desolate and lived to death, just as lovely as the restful and lovely person. The line drifts away.
Recitation of such verses is just to alleviate the grievances that are difficult to fill. People are angry, laugh at themselves, and talk about anything that needs to be limited, but they are holding on to the overloaded material cart with one hand, and they don't want more. No one wants to really repent, and occasionally shake their arms full of complaints or moan. Only the ghost wandering around with a hinge on its neck complained bitterly, confessing that he had not been able to protect the sister who was hanged together.
Being a "person" is not easy, but this hazy consciousness is not enough to let people get rid of it. Being in it, I have long forgotten the meaning of civilization, and I don't even feel the need anymore. It seems that only the most primitive memorial service can avoid the uneasiness of the heart. Everything is too naked, so that any blood and pain will become calm. It is not the eyes that are tough, but the heart that has not beaten in the chest. .
From my blog:
http://magicdragon.blogbus.com/logs/14764230.html
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