Who would have thought? Woody Allen smudges such a warm and cozy tone and covers every corner of the film, just to describe a rosy fire in the heroine Ginny's heart.
Tinder is an inextinguishable desire in the heart, and the seemingly gentle and romantic rose color is the filter that Ginny added to her love. In fact, the mess after the fire is extinguished is the normal state of life. No amount of aspirin will relieve the pains of life. When things go wrong, all past unwillingness turns into migraine headaches, and countless tossing and turning are caused by insomnia caused by throbbing blood vessels.
From my young and ignorant eyes, I was so afraid of Ginny, a woman of great vitality. Because I am sure she will not choose to self-destruct, she will choose to let the fire burn all around her. She just had a poignant smile on her face, and regarded it as the curtain call of a play. In fact, just because her posture is not light enough, the stubbornness in the artist's personality becomes unforgivable. While pity Ginny, I hate her a little bit because she hasn't been defeated by life. Clearly, she didn't need my smug sympathy. Every young and capital girl has more or less the shadow of Carolina. We are gentle and polite because we are sure that we are the favored side of life. There is no need to argue, the superior is always calm. I wasn't at all surprised when Mickey moved on. On the one hand, I don't believe in the so-called firmness of love; on the other hand, men choose the younger and more beautiful side, which we have long been used to in real life.
On the contrary, it was Mickey's indecision that surprised me, that he would actually add such splendor to an extramarital affair that he was involved in, and give so much concern to the fragile and crazy Ginny, even eloping. Really take it into account - I never thought that was a male lie.
By the way, women always choose to use a love full of their lonely tenderness to save their falling lives. This kind of storyline is really old-fashioned, and Ginny's hysteria is not to my liking. It's rare for me not to buy Woody Allen's account. Less Madame Bovary and Anna Karenina, we need new stories.
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