Associate with the winter light, the diary of the country pastor, the church... and give the number five hundred to the precious Paul Schrader. When everything except the way of performance is imitating Bresson, it just ignores the essence of Bresson's "character tense". A good director never over-controls, but gives the image space to speak for himself, a kind of control that is on the verge of getting out of control. And this work... can see how urgent Schrader's imitation of idols and "giving his work the same identity as Brinell" is so urgent. For Schrader, a proficient writer and director as a whole... the design that is too formal and completely subverts itself is like looking at pictures and writing words, which is very controllable. The facts are indeed the case. It is spread under the director's careful calculation, but it is lacking in the meaning extension of the possibility of the text itself beyond the image. There was a shot of a wine glass bubble similar to a taxi driver and an odd man out. The part of the bridge that looked like a tribute mirror looked like a murderous green toe at Schrader. 90min shaft cutting. Driving across the street, looking at the black things with cold eyes like Travis, forty years later, the man remained angry.
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