Jeremy Irons is still as beautiful as ever. I love this melancholy and crazy old man. His gentle morbid forbearance, with an irresistible classicism and depression. He was curled up and trembling like a child on the bed of the Paris hotel, wrapped in his coat and waiting outside the cold door of the young brunette, he was chasing exhaustion and frenzy from Brussels to the church in Paris, holding his beloved in tears. The woman made love to the death, and he flicked the woman's face again and again with the palm of his eagerness. His lean, stocky nude and graceful, narrow face complement each other perfectly. His white shirt, his dark suit, his nasolabial folds, and his helpless, helpless eyes are the most deadly temptation. I love the way he jumps and has sex even more, like in Lolita. It is only possessed but cannot be taken away. Completely depraved and indulgent like a moth to a flame.
I love him so much.
And black clothes and black hair wrapped in a frenzied and fascinated young woman, like a rodent beast, tempted to be dangerous, fragile and independent. Juliette's profile is stunningly beautiful. She was as calm as a pool of water in front of the man. Men love her madly, but she is as neat and tidy as a funeral. Even the deep V-neck and the hooking black stockings are still fatally dignified. She leaned into the man's arms and said that "the wounded are the most dangerous, they know how to survive". This dangerous woman is simply trying to find recognition and a presence in pleasure. She said "I say f**k me" slowly and sadly and indifferently, so an old man like a moon god was poisoned by her like this.
Their electric light, flint, dry wood, and fire are so fast that they don't need foreplay, just a few entanglements in their eyes, and a huge desire is brewing. They kept F**k and then Talk, then F**k and Talk... Blindfolded each other's eyes, deeply robbed each other's body, as if there was no one else in the world.
Much like beautiful premium porn.
In comparison, I prefer older men's wives. No matter how blond, blue-eyed, dignified and reserved, when she turned her head sideways and asked her husband "Have you ever loved me" as the camera zoomed away, then she took off her clothes to support her body and stared at her husband's arrogance proudly. Heart and soul. I was teased.
well, story is bad. And the ending is good. Years later, the old man who lost everything in the evening, recalled in a shabby room in a foreign land, "I only saw her once, at the airport's changing gate, she was with Pete, and she had a child. It's nothing like other women. Two." The tone was flat and cold. On the wall in front of him were huge pictures, the pale face of the dark-haired woman enlarged.
As if nothing ever happened.
All the passionate chemistry is addicting and irresistible, but it is also the least scrutinized. When we fall in love, we foresee the end of the future, and it is this foresight that makes us sad all the way.
At the end of the film, it says, "What makes a man a man, we have no way of knowing." The old director said, the longer I live, the less I believe in thoughts, and the more I believe in feelings.
We always have moments like this when we risk our lives for someone or something.
Good night.
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