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A little insight about professors
Cristobal 2022-03-24 09:01:52
I finally know why the show is called Pygmalion. The professor gave the flower girl a chance to be reborn, just like Pygmalion carved a statue of a woman and gave her life, but the professor's social status and knowledge made his machismo inflated, he did not understand love, despised love, He is afraid of love, and terrifies the interaction between people, so that when love comes, he will not know how to express it, and he will not look at her with the right eyes. I won't look at her equally, and I won't give her dignity, so I prefer Bernard Shaw's original ending. In the end, the flower girl didn't return to the professor. If I were a flower girl, I wouldn't return to such a low emotional intelligence person. Around
Extended Reading
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Hipolito 2022-03-27 09:01:06
Maybe watch it again, maybe not. Any feeling is often cut deep into hallucinations. Guess what is hidden in his eyes, guess what is hidden in her tone, maybe there is nothing, the wind is not moving, the flag is not moving, it is your heart that is moving. That said, do you understand?
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Spencer 2022-03-27 09:01:06
It's not because of the musical, but because of the variety of awkwardness I see in this work. I always feel that this film is too idealistic and out of touch with reality. Maybe it has something to do with Bernard Shaw. In fact, when I was watching this film, I remembered a lot of literary theories that I am more interested in recently. Home Like Foucault Like Spivak "Can the Common People Really Talk?"
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Professor Henry Higgins: She's an owl, sickened by a few days of *my* sunshine.
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Professor Henry Higgins: Mother!
Mrs. Higgins: What is it, Henry? What's happened?
Professor Henry Higgins: [quietly, bewildered] She's gone.
Mrs. Higgins: Well, of course, dear, what did you expect?
Professor Henry Higgins: What... what am I to do?
Mrs. Higgins: Do without, I suppose.
[pause]
Professor Henry Higgins: And so I shall! If the Higgins oxygen burns up her little lungs, let her seek some stuffiness that suits her. She's an owl sickened by a few days of my sunshine. Very well, let her go, I can do without her. I can do without anyone. I have my own soul! My own spark of divine fire!
[storms outs]
Mrs. Higgins: Bravo, Eliza.