I don't know when I fell in love with French movies. Not because of the beautiful French in the movie, not only because of the clean and beautiful pictures or the twists and turns of the plot, but because of the touching places buried deep or shallow in the movie. They quietly infiltrate every inch of the film's land, until at an inadvertent moment, you will find that a small flower has already bloomed in that land.
The French films I have seen so far all have the same characteristics. No matter what kind of story they tell or what way of narration they adopt, films that are completely different will eventually reach the same goal at a certain point, that is, to be moved. It is not hypocritical, not contrived, not hypocritical, not deliberately, and truly moved. It was the movie that was moved by myself, and I was also moved by it.
"Afternoon with Margaret" is also such a touching film. There are no complicated story lines throughout the film, and the slow narrative rhythm makes people forget the existence of time. The movie just tells the story of an ordinary person, but it is this ordinary and ordinary that can easily enter the hearts of many people.
Lerman was counting pigeons in the park, and Margaret was reading on a bench, and they met on a sunny afternoon. The pale-haired Margaret read to the young Leman, who closed his eyes and imagined the picture in the text. Life is like the afternoon sun, sunny and warm, it seems to be the same every day, but I don't know it is quietly changing. When Lerman and Margaret experienced happy or sad changes in their respective lives, the movie gave the audience the warmest touch with a clever ending.
When watching the movie, I always wanted to do one thing, and that is to write down those beautiful lines in the film:
"How to imagine a city without pigeons, without trees and gardens, without flapping wings, without rustling Leaves, in such a gray world, everything is set. People look up to the sky to know the change of seasons. When the warm wind blows, we know that the spring is coming. Or, the package of spring flowers brought by the salesman from the suburbs. Let us feel this spring only for the market."
"At such a young, sensitive stage, it's hard to be so adored by others, and it's something to look forward to. We seek, expect, wait. When it comes to maternal love, the separation at dawn can never be fulfilled. Vows. Every time a woman hugs you, hugs you tightly, it's just for comfort. We're always weeping at our mother's grave, like an abandoned dog."
"This isn't a typical love story . , but love and tenderness are all there. In the name of flowers, she has wandered in words her whole life, adjectives are all around, verbs grow like weeds, some of which are unpleasant to you, but she is tenderly planted in this hard piece of mine The land and my heart. In love stories, there is never just love, sometimes it's a very simple 'I love you', yes, we are in love."
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