I've had almost over-and-over psychic contact with the unhurried films during this time, and they have kept me feeling the validity and importance of "no rush". This is absolutely inspiring for everyone. While eagerness brings speed, it also brings excess consumption, frizz and frivolity. Although I don't think it's necessary to be frivolous, it's interesting that the rhythm is always fast and slow. Blindly fast and blindly slow are not rhythmic. Apichatpong's film has no rhythm, but editing helps it. "There is a kind of tranquility called solemnity", this sentence is extremely applicable to "Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall Past Lives". When Uncle Boonmee slowly tasted the dishes on a summer night with those who cared about him, the ghost of his dead wife and his long-lost son appeared one by one. This scene is lovely and poignant. As Uncle Boonmee is lying on a couch on the farm with his kidney pain, I can still hear his praise for honey - "they taste very chewy".
"Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives" is long-lasting, and it is always shrouded in misty mystery. The ghosts and gods culture of Thailand is inextricably linked in the film. They are far less terrifying than the "head down" and "evil gods" in the South Asian horror movies. Instead, people feel fresh and natural, with a strong earthy smell. Apichatpong only reveals a hint of darkness at the end of the film, but it is quickly obscured by himself through a denser mist. The director, who appears to be gay, is like a frog who never sweats in a humid, hot rainforest. When a passing creature passed, it just blinked its eyes and continued to breathe profusely.
May 8, 2012
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