From the pile of Junk Food scattered on the table, I took a big mouthful of ice-cola, and the picture started from the beginning of Universal's film.
Scorched yellow tones, oily undershirts, faces with beard and hair, dirt, dryness, guns, violence, killers, drug dealers, sheriffs, motorcycle girls, modified mechas, tribes.
I can feel the heat wave across the screen. I haven't watched such a simple and rudeness for a long time. The "Red Hill" I watched some time ago is not a little bit literary in comparison. I don’t want to spend too much time on the plot. Although the director is imitating Quentin’s perception, even though the call at the store rest stop is still the female nurses and young officials who appeared on the way, they are all trying to tell something outside of the movie, but that’s not important. Whenever the third child punches the Nanshan Tigers and kicks the Beihai Canglong, I am like Jason in "Furious Attacking Heart", cool.
It happened that there was a call midway, but I didn't answer it, shhh, let me finish it. Turn off the lights again, turn up the volume a bit, and go to the fancy world for a while.
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