On a dark and rainy afternoon, watching this, the sound of African drums and the piercing piano, all I could hear was the sound of rain, and I slumped on the bed half asleep. Old literary movies are really boring, but really beautiful.
Is there a theme? Floating, phony, nihilistic. As Alan said to the heroine, you will only answer that you don't know. Monica doesn't love money, hates stocks, doesn't do anything, is beautiful, chaotic, neurotic, and wafts. Just believe in love, oh, I don't understand why we waste time, nor do I. He is shallow, handsome, worldly, cold, gentle, and impatient. They don't look like them. She shouldn't like him, but she will get close.
Alan is so beautiful, and Monica is so beautiful. I am very superficial, only know how to sigh beautiful. The director loves her very much, and the lighting is good. I don't know if black and white movies have high requirements for lighting, or Antonioni is just good at lighting, and he makes people look so good, like cut out, like a weathered statue. Monica's erotic eyes are a hundred times more vivid than the most technically perfect animation.
Monica fashion show, her shoulders and back, round and slender, still beautiful. The eyes are storytelling, fragile and silent, disjointed and innocent. You can't believe she was hurt, she should always be hurting and rejecting others. The face, it's so easy to shoot, what a boring movie, a kind of indifference spreads from the face, fills the still space with no soundtrack and color, it's so full that you can't take your eyes off it. unique sadness. Suspected that Ke Yun was imitating her.
Alain is as beautiful as a plastic mannequin. I want to see her kiss his eyes.
Ugly is the only reason not to be loved, they are beautiful, loving, and logical.
Very touching love scene, there is no doubt that they are deeply in love. Although the heroine said, I hope I have not loved you, or loved you more deeply. But their meeting, and their approach like a fool, only made me feel that it was an irrefutable proof of love for no reason. Monica wandered the room, terrified, playing with pens and browsing the furnishings. Alan approach, stay away, kiss, stay away, sorry, chase. Meet at home for tens of minutes and enjoy these shots. Too patient, I wonder if it's the frestyle acting and the freestyle editing.
During the private meeting, he took off the telephone receiver. More verbal monologues, naked love scenes, purer than I've ever seen. I want to be close to you, I want to kiss you. Any interruptions should be damned.
Beauty is wabi-sabi, moment, feeling, plane, metaphor, fragment. The plot is the arrangement, the weaving of logic, the interlocking, the echoes of space and time. So Alain Delon is so shocking, so eternal.
I looked at Monica, sluggish, slow, and expressionless. When I crossed the road, I had to be hit by a car and die on the road every minute to end the sense of despair. I can't breathe.
Weird piano sound, everyone walks nervously and waits and sees. He showed me everyone's expressionless faces. This is reality, and romance is terribly real.
The original silent silence was so deafening. I feel great anxiety and emptiness, so is it an eclipse? I can't find a home.
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