Russian Film Week is finally over. The last one is "Yan Nan Fei." In the first five minutes, I understood why the French liked her so much. The scenes are too Seine. After watching it, I finally understood why the heroine got a special mention at the Cannes Film Festival. I really don't know how an actor can be in a completely silent scene, without any soundtrack or even ambient sound. In the scenes that were almost silent, she was able to slowly burst out such a huge amount of energy just by relying on her almost silent movements. I have gradually followed her just by watching her still suppressing the turbulent emotions. Emotions gradually feel suppressed and suffocated—the kind of repression that causes huge shocks and sadness. If I couldn't help it, I almost burst into tears at the movie theater. really amazing. The heroine is really amazing.
The separation of lovers, the survival dilemma of women (wartime), the stigma of facing rape, and much, much more The Russians are really good at making movies. Yesterday's "Song of the Soldiers" gave people an earth-shaking 360° rotation right at the beginning. Today's "Flying Wild Goose" made a seamless transition between the heroine's walking in the peaceful air-raid shelter and the bombed ruins, which was too shocking. It's not that such methods are rarely seen, but that the two worlds are explained so cruelly and directly.
Clocks and clocks probably no longer need to be interpreted as nostalgic intentions. For the Soviets, the sound of the hands swinging is like a reminder, constantly urging people to quickly run to their death, reminding those who survived that every minute and every second is like a knife cut. Almost every movie is constantly meeting and separating, running and reuniting, waiting and returning home. The joy of war victory belongs to others, but the anguish of losing a loved one belongs to the person who lost the loved one. The girl finally left in the company of her boyfriend's father. Before leaving, she saw the wild geese flying south. Really, sooner or later, the Russians made a war scene to separate and say goodbye to PTSD. It hurts too much. Every war movie is too hurtful. At the beginning of this film, the subtitles say what award she won. The deepest impression is that the Cannes Film Festival commended her "strong humanistic spirit," which is quite lovely. Let me first say how good she is. Naturally, it is.
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