If she turns around and smiles at me next time, she'll be my wife

First of all, let me mourn poor Andre, the regular second male next to Gone with the Wind, once again weeping tears of sympathy for this man, who has suffered from the pain of losing his wife, and this time he still can't hold the beauty back. . . When I was reading a book as a child, I regretted this short-lived love song more than once, and imagined more than once, if Andre could recover, if he could wake up, if they were. . . It's a pity that dust returns to dust, dust to dust, nothing if nothing, Duke Andrew is destined to be only a catalyst for Natasha's growth and a passer-by in her life, and the ultimate boss, Mr. Tolstoy, will not allow him to take away Pierre's The woman and the seat, even if the picture of him with her is much more beautiful and harmonious than when he is with her. . . (Forgive the sister of the Appearance Association for always being unreasonably biased.)
Let’s talk about the director’s layout. The narrative is more than three hours, and many scenes are lengthy. It takes a few minutes for Anatole to wink at his sister Helen. , not to mention all the tedious war shots in the later stages. All the protagonists are collectively missing. On the endless ice field, in the chaotic army, only Pierre supports the scene alone, sometimes mixed with Napoleon's hysterical roar and helpless loneliness. I really don't know what the director thought, showing such a great man in such a symbolic state in a large number of shots in the film, and once again forgive my sister for the laziness and great leap forward in this section while watching the film. . .
Fortunately, there is Hepburn, all of which can be forgiven~ Beautiful Hepburn, lovely Hepburn, I want to touch her delicate little face like apple blossoms, her slender collarbone, wicker-like flexible and straight posture, clear as purple grapes The sly eyes, the deer-like light and agile demeanor, whenever she smiles at the camera, the crescent-like mouth gently bends, at that moment, you seem to hear the sound of the heart blossoming, smell the sea breeze blowing If Titian was alive, he would definitely bow down to her feet and be intoxicated by writing for her for ten thousand years. Because of the young Hepburn, this elf-like flower, all the unbearable haze in the film was swept away, and the long three hours passed by Natasha's frown and smile, leaving only that sentence. : If she turns around and smiles at me next time, she will be my wife. . . .

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