"Dolls" does not have those violent scenes, but he said this is his most violent film.
He said: Sad love is the most extreme violence.
An accident or a wrong decision can ruin your love or even your life.
Love is so fragile, we are all dolls of our own feelings.
Sometimes, we think we can leave free and easy, but we finally know that we can't get rid of ourselves.
Maybe he is right, the cruelty to his feelings is the cruelest, and he can never escape.
The hero and heroine on the cover looked sadly at the blood-red red leaves, what was in their eyes besides despair?
Do the dolls
just want to tell us a few poignant love stories
or do they want to describe our destiny?
A broken love, a woman who has lost her language and memory skills, and a man who is sick trying to save her.
Two people, sick and walking, no longer need words.
Walking, from spring to winter, to disappear.
The four seasons are so beautiful.
Gorgeous spring cherry blossoms are all over the mountains and plains, the refreshing summer blue sea is clear and transparent, the brilliant autumn maple leaves are burning warmly, and the winter snow is covered in silver.
They were walking, passing by two equally beautiful stories.
An old gang boss returned to his hometown and saw his young lover sitting on a bench waiting for him.
A traffic policeman, who was disfigured in a car accident by a favorite idol singer, blinded her in order to arouse her confidence in life.
Such a story is so beautiful that there is no smell of fireworks, and so beautiful that you doubt it.
When the two old people can continue the front line, when the idol singer's heart opens, life will play the most beautiful movement.
The gang boss was killed, and the traffic policeman died in a car accident.
Just like the climax of the Huacai paragraph, the silk cracked suddenly and stopped abruptly.
And she was still waiting on the bench in the old place for decades, and she was still waiting on the beach, ignorant.
They continued to walk, walking in the wasteland.
Through the morning and dusk, through the four seasons, through those beautiful scenery.
Looking at them, walking across the city, across the road, across the cherry blossom forest, what are they looking for?
Is it guilt? Is it regret? Or is this journey a lifetime? ?
Who is whose doll? Who is controlling whom?
Is it the person with integrity? Or the one who has lost his mind? Or is it all fate?
Under the camera, their lives are walking so quietly, and their blood is gorgeous, like the red leaves in her hand, in a graceful posture.
Fly, fall, who knows, who cares.
The heroes and heroines hang on the branches in the mid-levels, the winter sun has just risen, and the snow is crystal clear.
The loss of life, there is no trace of violence, but it is more painful than violence.
We are all like dolls, dragged by the invisible thread behind us, without the ability to resist.
I still remember the backs of the two people walking silently, and their wooden expressions.
The world is no longer in their eyes.
I am also willing to be ill, lose language, and memory.
If, if you are willing to accompany me like that.
Let your rope tie me, we walk together.
Needless to say.
You, lead me. We have abandoned this world, and we have also been abandoned by the world.
Illness, in the illusory world, is beautiful. In reality, it can be scary.
I don't want to be a nightmare in your life.
So I tried to look healthy, and tried to erase the traces of the haze.
Those sporadic sweetness scattered in the boundless sorrow are like bright flowers blooming on a swamp, fascinating and fatally beautiful.
Untouchable, untouchable, can only wait and see from afar in the soul.
At the end of the film, the protagonist and heroine are running in a snowy night, and a pair of dolls are also running under the control of people.
The screen appears alternately.
Yes, this is just a doll's story, it is human manipulation and interpretation, don't care.
Me, who is manipulating me.
My body, my soul, my life.
he. you. destiny.
Torn it. How can oneself.
In the last picture, the two dolls are turned with both hands, and the curtain is called gracefully.
Little by little piano sound seemed to shatter all hope.
The real life is no different from the dolls on the stage.
The doll's story has ended, and our lives have not yet ended.
We are still walking, we have been walking, without purpose, without hope. . .
The windmill turns when you walk by, and stands still when I walk by.
Bright colors are the overalls on the body.
As long as you are accompanied by someone you love, no matter what season or place you are in, it is the most beautiful scenery.
It's okay to live like a doll.
As long as I know you are by my side, I will never leave again.
As long as we believe, we can keep warm when we hug, and we can survive by snuggling.
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