If brilliant poets are capable of glorifying the results of "aging" but unable to benefit from the slow process of "aging", what about other artists? The irony is that talented artists seem to go early, either by homicide or suicide. Vincent van Gogh lived a shocking 47, Keats, Shelley, Byron did not live past 40, Mozart was only 35 when he died, and the great electric guitarist Jimi Hendrix died of a drug overdose at 27. Love abandoned opera queen Callas when she died at the age of 54, everyone regarded her as a legend. Geniuses who die sooner seem to be more favored by the public, so there is a saying in the ancients, "Heaven is jealous of talents", and there is a 27-year-old club in the West. Fans seem to tie the result of "early death" directly to artistic achievement, and tragedies seem easier to write as legends. In April every year, a large number of fans burn incense for Kurt Cobain and put "love for you" for Leslie Cheung. With the same skillful color scheme, the heartbroken Maria Callas seems to have won more admiration and admiration than Joan Sutherland, who lived to be almost 100 years old. We all seem to prefer to forget about those artists who have entered their old age, and the people will even show disgust if there are some who refuse to accept the old age. Look at Paul McCartney for a living example. I remember the opening ceremony of the Olympics. I was training outside and watching the live broadcast with hundreds of colleagues in the auditorium. As soon as he appeared, everyone booed him. As a result, he went out of tune, and everyone booed even more. In the end, he entered by himself. At the climax, let everyone sing together with him. The people in the auditorium held up beer cans and asked the old man to go home and wash and sleep. How miserable! At the end of his artistic career, an old man who performed diligently was regarded as a joke, and the cruel reality made people lament. At this time, Lennon may be snickering somewhere.
After a series of random thoughts, I want to say that the entry point of this film is novel: the aging form and the gradual inner state of the performing artist. Regardless of past glory, glory, talent, beauty, wealth, when life comes to an end, what is eternal? Are you continuing to walk on the road of endless pursuit of art? Is it sitting alone in a dark corner recalling that perfect high pitch on the stage? Are you tirelessly sharing your talents and experiences with the younger generation?
The plot unfolds in one after another in the opera: When artists grow old, like ordinary people, they will also be blinded, deaf, forgetful, withdrawn, irritable, childish, make a fuss, show off their experience, be sick, fear the dark night, and fear death , all kinds of geriatric diseases will come to the door one after another, if you don't open the door, they will climb the window. But they are more fortunate than ordinary people. They can find inner peace through the form of art, talk with God and resonate with heaven and earth. If they can't let go of the applause and flowers, and sigh about their lost talents, then they, like us, have a right choice: fall in love and get married. The perfect combination of idealism and realism. Although the probability of falling in love and then getting married does not seem to be particularly high today, Dustin Hoffman insists that love has its own innocence at a certain stage, even if it is on the edge of life in the seventies and eighties.
The film brings together the most famous old actors in Britain: the black-faced grandmother Maggie Smith, the principal Michael Gambon, the lonely long-distance runner Tom Courtenay, the banjo master Wiiliam Connolly, and the woman Pauline Collins who is waiting for the second spring. Personally, I think Pauline is the biggest highlight of this film. Her stunned look reminds me of my grandmother who has been demented for many years. She is always in a state of being awake and confused. She would come out of nowhere to speak the truth. Before she died, she was nagging that no one was cutting her nails. The extras are all musical artists from a professional background, which is unprecedented. There are musicians and singers gathered, the natural sound of the piano is melodious everywhere, the scenery is nowhere better than the paintings, the clouds are flying, the trees are clear, the sunset is in the west, and it is quiet. If one day I can be like this when I get old, it must be an infinite merit in my previous life. At the beginning of the film, I was looking forward to the four superstars walking to the front together to recreate the scene of Vivaldi's "beautiful, I remember meeting you one day", but unfortunately, the old men and the old ladies still had a good face and didn't want to sing. The director used a random vision to fool us. The seniors are not brave enough. Let's take a look at the two Australian men in the new version of "Les Miserables". Just try your best, perfect people are rare.
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