I watched Dark Knight's trailer again with a few other friends. There was silence. he's gone. The cowboy who used to have a simple face while brushing the dishes with his cigarette butt in his mouth, the crazy and persistent Joker with his bright red mouth raised not long ago. The room was very gloomy and cold. Shadows fell on the green leaves that accidentally reached into the window and got wet by raindrops. The original sound of Brokeback mountain suddenly rang. Suddenly threw me back to years ago.
At that time, I was looking for Brokeback Mountain to see the soundtrack directed at the director of Ang Lee and Gustavo Santaolalla. Of course it is also out of curiosity about same-sex subjects. The quality of the disc I bought was very low, the audio track was intermittent, and in some places it was simply silent. The Chinese subtitles were turned in a mess, and the English subtitles were actually turned based on the Chinese subtitles. So simply turn off the sound completely, put on headphones and listen to the original sound to watch the picture. Reading the story became the most important thing. What remained in my mind was the blue sky, rolling clouds, and mountains spreading with coarse ore. The long shots one after another are breathtaking. And their eyes. Jake Gyllenhaal's big eyes and Heath Ledger's small eyes. Beautiful eyes, sensitive eyes. Passionate eyes. Ang Lee is a director who has a thorough grasp of details, and this time his great skill is used to capture expressions. The two young actors did not let him down, and certainly did not let us down. With a grin, everything in the lens became a part of the screen world. Become a part of their feelings. And then pierce the screen to become a part of the audience's emotions. Even if I didn't hear a complete dialogue in it, the power of the film was still suffocating. What impressed me deeply was the last two pieces of clothes that were put together. That postcard. And the tears of Heath Ledger. The one he loved left, with those smiles, those eyes, the mountain. When the screen goes dark, I feel like I really want to talk. The long absolute silence in the room was breathless. I don't remember who I called or what I said. All I can remember is the impulse to talk, knocking my throat constantly.
Now Heath Ledger is gone. Quietly disappeared in the astonishment of countless people. Ennis's eyes that raised the dust suddenly solidified into history. The screen continued to play the interview clips from his lifetime. There is not much expression, and the face looks very honest. The sky gradually darkened. The light rain continued. I heard someone saying that Dark Knight made a profit now. The box office is definitely going well. And I just want to go back to the room in silence, find a memorial, and write something. Still put on the original soundtrack of Gustavo Santaolalla. The flowing guitar is like water, touching the blood vessels gently to the depths of the spirit. Reflections on those beautiful torn pictures. The young cowboy who rode silently. Even if there is no smile, there is a face accompanied by sunshine. Staggeringly approached and left.
Take Heath Ledger well. The man who touched me.
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