I really like the feel of holding the camera. The picture is blurry and colorful, like LOMO.
I also fell in love with the two women who first appeared. The two women were both odd-looking, the first girl looked like an ugly little animal, and the second woman's face was as old as a ghost. But his shots, his silent and lengthy shots caressing these two women, making them beautiful. Especially the old woman, her face showed the shyness of being kissed for a long time after all.
On the road, the dirty glass windows slowly passed through the dry and empty town, and suddenly a soft humming sounded. . .
Not without poetry.
Then I went to pour a glass of water and typed the word "brown rabbit" on the Internet. This article actually appeared: The brown rabbit has become the biggest scandal in Cannes this year. Japanese investors lost everything. Vincent Gallo is embarrassed and admits "The Brown Rabbit" is a "disaster". The media in the city scrambled to ridicule: all the descendants who have participated in this film festival will recall fondly: were you there on the night of "Brown Rabbit"? It is suggested that the organizing committee issue a commemorative coin for this film and hold a 'Brown Rabbit' party every year. so on and so forth.
be surprised. When I continued to watch, my mood changed slightly. Man, is it so hard not to be affected, is it so hard to insist on liking a "disaster" and "scandal".
After reading it, I admit that the latter part is not as good as the former. I think the theme introduced by the excellent foreshadowing in the front is not so convincing, but if there is no search for that keyword in the middle, how would I evaluate this movie? Now I have no way of knowing.
I have to say I like Vincent Gallo's view of love. While watching him travel through America with pain, thinking about his desire for love that Shi Kang once mentioned, his desire for that kind of blue blood love, art, aristocratic blood and nobility, which is what he expects in love . And I'm heartbroken by Vincent Gallo's grassroots love. When he stares sadly at a girl with blue eyes like a bereaved dog, when he misses a girl in those run-down motel rooms, when he stops without saying a word to kiss a stranger, I love him.
I saw an actress say something, she said she watched all the movies, and she said none of the movies were really bad. I would like to believe this. I'd like to tell Vincent Gallo that 100 minutes of telling a man's heartache isn't a scandal at all, in the face of the rubbish that is produced every year in the hundreds of thousands of insincere books.
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