It's been half a month since I watched this movie, and my feelings finally came together into one sentence - this is Hollywood's love letter to Broadway, it's sincere, full of tobacco, alcohol and blood.
Because of Takarazuka, my feelings about All That Jazz are familiar, complicated and conflicted. Probably because I am too familiar with the song and dance show set, because I have too high expectations for this film because of the recommendation of Tangzhuan Broadcasting, plus I am too indifferent to the male protagonist, and the director's too single aesthetic (all adult female characters in this film are Long legs, no waist, flat chest, eyes that are about to go out of their sockets, must be so rigid in choosing a musical actress??) and plastic makeup and hair (not even as good as Takarazuka) despair...
In short, after watching it for the first time, the disappointment in my heart is even greater than the reverence, and it is difficult to save even after watching the song and dance of the three women imagined in the male protagonist's mind before he dies...
However, in the past two weeks, I have been repeatedly taking it out and watching it. In addition to appreciating the play in the brain of the man with a big brain before his death, I am also reminiscing about those extremely spicy and real lines.
"To live is to walk a tightrope in the sky, and the rest are all waiting on the field."
"If you sleep with so many people, you must die early."
"Guess Kubrick ever despaired?"
"You give me gifts and clothes, but I just hope you don't be so generous with your lower body."
"This sentence is good, I can write it into the script later."
"Death can be divided into five steps, anger, denial, negotiation, depression and acceptance".
The extremely divisive male protagonist is pretentious on the one hand, and fears mediocrity on the other hand; on the other hand, he is afraid of death while seeking pleasure; he is accustomed to success at one time, and is criticized by the media at one time to kill him.
Probably this split is not only a punishment for the artist, but also a necessity for the artist to create.
Perhaps burning life itself is also a kind of creation. For those who regard art as everything, there is nothing to support the artist's creation except burning himself.
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