In the way of shooting, it is very different from the works of Hiroeda and the millennium and later. The beginning is the kind of wobbly handheld and camera, like a documentary. After reading his bio, this film is the second film work he directed. It was a documentary before. It is also related to the narrative style of the film, because several people tell their own stories, so there will be interview-like composition shots, and the answers of different people will be edited together to introduce the background of the story, just like a TV interview. Same. It is very different from his later steady and fixed lens language. However, such an unstable shot does make people feel like a documentary, especially when everyone starts to prepare for the shooting scene, the old grandma watches them arrange and play with various props. With the dim lights on one side, it really looks like a documentary interview scene hahahaha.
The filming set prepared by the staff of Heaven to recreate the memories of the deceased always makes me feel like a drama, it is literally the crew of the crew. I remembered the homework I was going to do recently. It’s so good to be in heaven. Someone should provide funding for the layout of these venues. I can set up whatever scenery I want. Let’s reproduce.” (Speaking of which, who pays them wages? Where do the props come from? Do you want to buy them in the world? Or should you just use the things that are already in the warehouse?) You don’t have to be like our little crappy crew. Careful calculation. It's really amazing to watch the filming scene in the movie.
However, for this idea, taking a piece of the most unforgettable memory in my life and re-creating it into a video before watching this kind of thing, I don’t understand it very well now at the age of nineteen. Based on my limited life experience, I guess the most I like a period of time, maybe this year, the second semester of my sophomore year, my baby has finished the exam and will go home the next day, and I haven't started the exam week, so we had a good day playing with him that day. Go to the instructor to pick up the plane. I like this day because I still remember that in the morning, I was waiting for him at the school gate, endorsing the book and looking at the intersection where he was about to come. The thin winter sun penetrates the morning fog. All of a sudden, as soon as I looked up, my boy ran towards me on a bicycle in high spirits, the wind blew his hair, and the corners of his eyes were written with vitality and happiness. Such a young man, he came to me and hugged me, the air in the winter morning is cold, and his embrace is warm. I love that, the moment he walks towards me. The reason why this memory is precious is all because of him. If it wasn't him, but another stranger who just played his role, then I'm afraid no matter how good the weather or the warmer the sun is, I won't be moved. If I were to die years later and look back on this memory, he wouldn't be exactly the same as the boy who ran to me that winter morning. If so, will the memories reproduced in this way still touch me?
At the age of nineteen, I don't think so. I don't know if I will live a few more years and my thoughts will change.
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