I usually don't like watching Zhang Yimou's films. Except for the real shooting without any pretense, it is a kind of scene that is less gorgeous and more than a real and simple visual feast. "My Father and Mother" is such a film. As soon as it appeared, it was a dark and cold weather, and a chill slowly penetrated every bone from the bottom of my heart. The black and white picture, the people wearing thick cotton jackets, the simple and thick atmosphere blew down from the picture and deposited in my heart. The father died, the son came back to pay for his father's funeral, and the mother, in old age, still stubbornly carried back her husband who had been with each other for decades. This black and white dull color turned, memories came round and round, and the bright, cheerful and playful green poured down overwhelmingly. The remote and small village more than 40 years ago was barren and backward, but the children yearned for knowledge, the girls yearned for love, and the villagers hoped that the next generation would be promising, so a tall and handsome city man appeared in this village. He came in a carriage. After getting off the bus, countless villagers looked up at this man who symbolized knowledge and civilization. A straight tunic suit, a short cover and a split head, and a clean smile. He turned his head, and a girl's clear eyes closely followed his figure. It was the first time my mother saw my father. The first time I saw my father, I fell in love with him. My father taught in the only school in the village, and the villagers made the meals. In order to let my father eat the food she cooked, my mother used the same bowl with blue pattern on a white background every time, and peeped not far away to see if my father had eaten the food she cooked. Such scenes of waiting for the beloved man, such simple and persistent feelings, they are like a thread, pulling the picture to change constantly. My mother began to run far away every day to fetch water, because the well was close to the village primary school, and my father could be seen. The mother kept looking back on tiptoe, and the father also looked at the mother with a silly smile. There are no extra words, only tender eyes. Zhang Ziyi was so beautiful that one could hardly breathe. Too pure beauty, too clear eyes, it seems that does not exist in this world. The plain of Xanadu, the slightly sloping hillside, has been meandering, ups and downs, twists and turns. The father sent the students home, and the mother was waiting on the road that the father had to go through. As soon as he saw the figure of the father, he immediately picked up the basket and started the journey of chasing the father. Finally, one day, they met face to face, the father said a few words to the mother, and the mother was so happy that she forgot the whole world, and the basket fell to the ground. She ran back, smiled at her father, and ran happily on the hillside like a deer. This is not the climax of the film, but it moved me to the extreme. With a feeling of admiration, anxiously waiting for the beloved on the roadside, such a scene, perhaps every one of us first love has experienced. Perhaps, Zhang Yimou also told the feelings of first love in this way. One day my father ran to the door of my mother's house. He stood restrained outside the fence and said, I'm leaving. My mother's joy disappeared immediately, and my father said again, in two days, I will be back, and I will definitely be back. And gave my mother a red hairpin. Mother was stunned. When she returned to the house, she saw that a bowl of dumplings had not been given to her father. She quickly wrapped the dumplings and chased after him. But my father got into the carriage and went away. The mother took the shortcut, saw the carriage ahead several times, chased after chase, the power of love, beyond fatigue, beyond fear. Many times, fell to the ground, many times, got up. When it fell again, it fell so hard that the bowl broke. Together with the mother's heart, it is also broken. However, what saddened my mother even more was that the hairpins my father had given me were gone. She kept looking for it for several days, and finally found it at the door of her house. The broken bowl was repaired by my mother. On the days when my father was to return, my mother left early to wait for my father at the intersection of the village. Heavy snow all over the sky, bitter wind. In the icy world, my mother kept looking around. She caught a cold and fainted. And my father finally came back. The door of memory is gradually closing, bright and broad plains, golden fields. Soothing and slightly sentimental music. Father's funeral was simple, but very solemn. Many, many of his students came, long crowds, dark colors. As always, the film won the grand prize at the Berlin Film Festival. There is no flamboyance and emptiness of the flashy world, or complicated and devious plots. The blandness and simplicity are sublimated here. The content is so simple to build, and the picture is so extreme. Pure art, pure human nature. Hairpins and blue and white porcelain bowls have become important props for this film, what a simple prop! However, who can say such a simple deep affection! The music in the movie has been constant, and Sambo's music really adds a lot of color to the movie. Music is a kind of clear soul in the movie. Because of the music, our hearts will ache a little bit, and then slowly calm down. Vaguely, I always feel that in films directed by Zhang Yimou, the images of women are always bright enough to cover up the radiance of men. The 18-year-old Zhang Ziyi has long smooth and thick hair, dark and bright eyes, a pure and bright smile, and walks as briskly as a deer. However, even such a pure and simple girl has a wild rebelliousness and stubborn persistence. Know exactly what you want, what you want to pursue, and stick to it. I think "My Father and Mother" is an out-and-out Chinese-style implicit love, and it is a symbol of people's knowledge and beautiful love. Few words, too much music. The pure air of the village, the winding hillsides, and the vast plains make people's hearts quiet. The artistry and humanity are on full display in this film. Zhang Yimou integrates his personal style into his works, such as the glittering wheat waves and the large greens, which draw on the beauty of nature. When appreciating, there is a warm feeling conveyed in my heart, and on the other hand, a kind of melancholy also breeds quietly. Does that kind of love still exist? Does such a mountain girl still exist in some distant village? Is there a man who is trekking over mountains and rivers to find such a girl? That bright and warm color has always been entangled in my heart. This kind of love may be what we are looking for.
View more about The Road Home reviews
