What are you looking at? The speed of buying movies is faster than watching movies. There are more than 200 discs that are too late to watch. They are still in the bag and can’t be seen. It’s ready-made. Close your eyes and take out a disc. Flowers (Henry & June), the famous erotic film, NC-17. That is to say, the story of a lover is a very different kind of affair. I watched it N years ago. At that time, I didn't have a fever when I watched the movie. I just watched a story and thought it was beautiful and unusual.
Calm down, turn it over and watch it carefully, and find that this is a biopic at all. It is another bold interpretation by the great director Philip Kaufman after "Prague Spring". The film reproduces the avant-garde writer. The tangled and blurred relationship between Henry Miller, Anais Ning, and Joan Mansfield. Uma Thurman plays Joan, Fred Ward and Maria de Medeiros play Henry Miller and Anais Ning respectively. Although these two actors are not very well-known, they act perfectly, and they are reborn.
Henry Miller (1891-1980), a pivotal writer in the American literary world, received mixed reviews. Author of the autobiographical trilogy "The Tropic of Cancer", "Black Spring", "The Tropic of Cancer"; the sacrificial trilogy "Sexual Journey", "The Web of Eroticism", "The Knot of Spring Dreams" and so on.
Joan Mansfield, the second of Henry Miller's five wives, inspired Henry Miller's wild and crude desires and his passion for writing.
Anais Nin, daughter of the Spanish composer Jeannine, wife of the financier Hugh Guiler, lover of the writer Henry Miller... in the diary novel "Fire" ( The Diarv of Anais Nin, also known as: "Henry, Joan and Me"), this is the creative blueprint for this film.
On December 5, 1931, the beautiful and talented Anais Nin came to Paris with her young Puerto Rican husband, Hugo, and met Henry, who lived in the Bohemian district, was penniless and never published a book. Henry's wild, warm and funny personality attracted her deeply. They became good friends who often discussed literature. Henry's puppeteer's wife, Joan, came to Paris from the United States to visit her husband. Because she was not satisfied with Henry's description of her in the novel, they quarreled as soon as they met, and Henry overturned the table in anger.
Joan was so sad that she broke through the door alone, and Anais, who was on the side, chased out and found Joan in the streets of Paris on a foggy night. They went to a lesbian bar to drink together. Then they danced all night in the bar, and both women seemed to be in a kind of sentimental despair and decadence. Anais was drawn to Joan's bohemian mature femininity, and that night, they slept on a loft bed, conversing between women. Anais kept repeating a topic: Only a woman who is decadent to the extreme can be truly innocent.
Before Joan left, she entrusted Anais to help her take care of Henry. Anais began to go to Henry's broken attic frequently to discuss novels with Henry and gave him a typewriter. But after Joan left, Anais seemed to be a different person. She seduced Henry with her naive and decadent eyes as she danced at a South American music bar, and they made love feverishly in a box.
Hugo leaves Paris on a business trip for a while, and Anais and Henri also start a secret romance. She became wilder and wilder, with a thirst for sex, completely different from her serene and innocent appearance. Henry also became more and more daring, and even ran to Anais' house to have sex, almost bumping into Hugo who was returning home from a business trip. Maybe Anais felt guilty, and she started to look crazy every time she had sex with Hugo, not like she was taking care of a fragile big boy. Perhaps Hugo was aware of it, and he even sexually assaulted Anais on a street corner with a mask at a Paris carnival, saying that he could be wild too.
Encouraged by Anais's love affair, Henry finally completed the novel Tropic of Cancer. Anais helped Henry contact the publisher, and on the day of the negotiation, Joan returned to Paris from the United States. In the bar, Joan was drunk, and she not only made a rude remark to the publisher, but returned home and accused Henry of not writing her well. Henry overturned the table again. Anaïs and Joan were in the small attic again for a woman-to-woman exchange. This time Anais seemed very active and wanted to have gay sex with Joan. But Joan didn't seem to be used to it suddenly, and said that Henry would hear it outside the door. Anais hurriedly said that once Henry fell asleep, the sky would fall and he would not wake up. Joan therefore knew the secrets of Anais and Henry, saying that both Anais and Henry were smart and cruel, and only people like her were always desperate and hurt. Joan said Anais' decadence was simply gathering experience as a writer. Joan even said that, in fact, Henry himself said that Anais was so kind to Henry and Joan because she was mentally bored.
Anais seemed to understand another side of Henry. Henry said hypocritically that he needed Anais, but Anais at least believed that Henry didn't know much about love. She walked out of the bohemian community alone, holding her novel manuscript, and when she was helpless, she found Hugo driving a car to pick him up. Hugo still seemed to know nothing, but Anais looked at Hugo like this, but her eyes were wet. She discovered the importance of Hugo to her life, and Hugo's love for her all the time. The car drove out of the street and passed Henry on a bicycle. Hugo greeted him, and the car moved forward, leaving Henry slowly behind. From the reflector, Anais saw Henry's face embarrassed at first, and then he made a self-deprecating face and smiled bitterly. He is still a strong man.
Anais was very sad at this time. She cried for the process of becoming a woman, and also for her maturity. She cried because there would be no more tears and pain in the future. Henry's novels established his status as a pioneer writer because of the earliest use of many sentenceless word arrangements and a variety of colloquial expressions, and he and Anais supported each other and kept in touch throughout their lives.
Henry Miller is a controversial writer. English-speaking countries have long refused to publish his work because of the sexually explicit depictions in his work. Later, the Allied forces came to Paris during the Normandy landing in 1944, and found Henry Miller's books in Paris, scrambled to circulate them, and smuggled them back to Britain and the United States. The works of Henry Miller were unexpectedly better than those of popular literature. The work of the elite gained a wider audience.
I used to feel confused when I read Henry Miller's novels. His works integrate various techniques of expressionism, Dadaism, surrealism, and stream of consciousness. His autobiography does not only write about the real self in the traditional way. , and also wrote a lot about the self in dreams, hallucinations, reverie, etc.; wrote about the self that excluded all cultural and social factors such as ethics, religion, etc. The content is complex, the thinking jumps, and sometimes it is confused. For someone like me who often treats reading as an entertainment, it is simply asking for trouble. Hehe, and Joyce's "Ulysses" It still lies brand new in the bookcase. Only Faulkner's "The Sound and the Fury" was read twice seriously. So I gave away Henry Miller and Lawrence's books a few years ago, and now I don't want to read them anymore, so I'm going to buy them again.
Think of Henry's appearance in the movie like a rough worker, with sly eyes and a face full of anger. Compared to Hugo, he is bald, with a smirk, big eyes, not handsome, and has no money. But Anais didn't know why she fell in love with Henry. Maybe a woman is meticulously good, showing humility and perfect gentleman's demeanor, a woman may not be satisfied. Anais seems to be like that, Hugo is a good person to her, that's all. But she prefers Henry who is flamboyant, a little cunning, passionate and aggressive, and Henry has indeed released Anais' passion and sexual fantasies as a woman.
The end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th century was an era of elegance and talent, and it was another Renaissance after the bourgeois industrial revolution. Nietzsche, Dostoevsky, Picasso, Dali, Breton, and Pound came out one after another. Wait for the master. At that time, the gentlemen who did photography were all well-suited and personable, always holding cigars, and there were acrobatic actresses in vacuum next to the dinner party. Everyone was calm and dined. After a bit of haggling to see the guests into the room, the old bustard of a brothel put the money into the stockings, picked up the embroidery trellis, and sat on the sofa leisurely threading needles, as if not in a brothel, but sitting in the countryside. A leisurely vacation under the sunshine tree.
At that time, there were also star chasers, but they were all writers and artists, while modern fans only chased entertainment stars and sports stars. Looking back at the history of chasing stars in the 20th century, people went from chasing literary artists to chasing entertainers, and finally to Mobike, which is a sports star. It's a transition from worshipping the mind to worshipping the naked body. When the first element of our liking is not romance but beauty or might, pragmatism triumphs, and human civilization is thoroughly objectified.
I wish I was born in that era.
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