In the screening room, the uncle in the front row snorted unusually. Halfway through the movie, he finally woke up. After scolding something, he left angrily, leaving behind the aunt who seemed equally dazed next to him.
After the lights were turned on, the rare silence in the venue seemed to be unable to find their corresponding feelings for such a "feast for the eyes" (according to some foreign comments). If you insist on a superficial summary: women's willfulness is terrifying and ridiculous, war is terrifying and ridiculous, but the most terrifying thing is that these terrifying absurdities are understandable and even beautiful, as if there is destiny or something nonsense.
The main body of the story may focus on the Austin-style emotional interweaving of the first half, especially the shivering water and light; however, when the long shot poetically glides through the ruins of the World War II playground through the eyes of the wounded and defeated, Personal lust is suddenly sublimated and disillusioned; finally, with a rather abrupt ending, the helplessness of pulling people back to reality in an instant. Such is life, the real protagonist of the story, the cruel narrator, often does not appear on the glossy poster.
All in all, it's a very good film, detailed and surprisingly beautiful, although in principle, I shouldn't like it.
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