Few people are so unfortunate. They have spent such a lonely old age without caring and warmth. Even if they are turned into bones, they are not known to everyone.
Few people are so lucky to die so lonely and quiet in a noisy and crowded city, with no wreath, no suona, no memorial service, no funeral team, so there is no waves and no disturbance, so you can say goodbye to the hustle and bustle with relief.
How did she spend her last day?
No one knew, no one even cared.
And Alexander asks almost desperately: Why must we stink, hovering between pain and desire?
I like Anzhe's long shots, like tears slowly sliding down his cheeks, quiet and warm. Alexander also seemed to be in line with this rhythm. He lowered his head, walked slowly, and sang poetry slowly, like a twilight cloud, wandering lonely over the Aegean Sea and the streets of Greece.
The Albanian child appears and, by coincidence, Alexander saves him. Or, rather than Alexander happened to save him, he was sent by God to save Alexander, who accompanied this lonely soul through the last hours of his life, on the bus, on the Albanian border, in love In the warm sea breeze of the Qinhai Sea, one old and one young, they sing, and they work together to find the meaning of life.
Anzhe, who is as obsessed with travel and wandering as Wenders, never limits his travel to "once", but "for a lifetime". Even the not-long wandering in "The Beekeeper" is the same. Piro's tragic reflection of life. Because travel has become the existence of life, the camera begins to break through the frame and boundaries of the screen - the sea in Greece is boundless, the snow in Albania is boundless, and the despair of Alexander is boundless.
I always feel that there is Bergman's shadow in Anzhe, Alexander is like Isaac in "Wild Strawberry", or Agnes in "Cry and Whisper", they are all wrapped in an indifferent world, Wandering in reality, memories and dreams, beauty can only exist in memories or dreams, and reality is like a sharp dagger, piercing the heart coldly. The 19th-century poet Solomos is on the same path as Death in The Seventh Seal—both dressed in black and leading you to ponder the meaning of life and death. The difference is that when pain and despair come from the cold Scandinavia to the warm Aegean Sea, there may be a vague hope.
Contrary to the lonely death of the unknown old lady, Luo Jing's departure has become a public topic. I never watch his column, but I still like to think: For Luo Jing, what is it forever? For more than 20 years, at the same time, in the same place, in the same way, doing the same work - until the end of life. For him, forever is every day.
In fact, there is never anything forever. Our life is to repeat the process of verifying it.
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