Do we know each other?

Alanis 2021-12-22 08:01:44

78% of

everyone is separated from each other by two thick skins. If one defines oneself as a spiritual and abstract individual, then one person's "knowledge" of the other becomes seemingly easy A task almost impossible in nature.

Between two people, the most distance, not the connection. Even if two people are stuck together, face to face, mouth to mouth, and fingers clasped, it is still impossible to know what the other person is thinking. Even if the body is close and then posted, the most space between the two people is still the gap-they may accidentally or deliberately cause different degrees of illusion, errors in communication, the other party's own assumptions and settings. Occasionally, the truth of successful transmission is rare.

But everyone can always see what they want to see best. So we feel that we know our parents, spouses and close friends very well. I feel that now that we know what they like to eat and wear, their favorite colors and biggest dreams, and their birthdays and looks, we have understood everything about them for a long time. In fact, how reliable are these cognitions? In extreme terms, the parents of serial murderers probably would not have thought that their children would become notorious for serial murders in the future.

We are generally very determined, thinking that the people we "know" are exactly what we think. So when Sean understood that Lauren didn't like him, when Lauren found out that Sean hadn't kept her promise and had fallen asleep with her roommate and Victor didn't even know her, when Paul finally understood that Sean and him were not in the same orientation, their faces were full of horror. It turns out that what we see and hear is not necessarily true. Whether it's someone else's disguise or one's own eyes, it is often the accumulation of unbearable weight that we discovered too late. Because in fact, we would rather see more beautiful lies than facts full of flaws.

The protagonists in the movie are all models of extreme self-paralysis, living in their own bubbles one by one. But soap bubbles are very fragile and cannot withstand real touch.

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The photography operations and post-editing of The Rules of Attraction are pretty cool. It can be seen that Avary is indeed a very hard-working filmmaker. But Avary's disadvantage is that he loves to play tricks too much. For example, a lot of reverse playback is used in the movie, which is eye-catching because it is a relatively rare operation. What's fun is that he played the soundtrack upside down at the same time, gibberish listened to it very fun, and then there is a classical music soundtrack that is also great to listen to. At first, I thought it was just added to it for fun, but when it came to the last scene of the movie, when I found that it was actually the beginning, I was quite surprised. But the technique is a bit too indulgent, and each clip is too long (no editing, so several minutes of reverse playback, and one scene is watched three or four times), which makes people a little impatient. Another thing worth mentioning is the scene where Lauren and Sean talk for the first time. I forgot what the professional term is, anyway, I shot them separately, and then put them together with split-screen in the later stage. Wonderful, when the two people were connected to the same lens at the end, the two people were at 180 degrees, and they happened to face each other.

I went to a Q&A in Avary two days ago and listened to him. Most of the music was thought of when he wrote the script, and the lyrics were related to the drama. I feel that the music is really good, and the lyrics and the plot development are very closely aligned. And there are several pieces of music that are somewhat identical in temperament with the protagonist of that scene. For example, the music that Lauren plays when she wakes up feels very Lauren.

It can also be seen that the composition is a bit particular. Props and backgrounds will be used to frame some frames to highlight the key points or imply something. Although the color matching is not too exquisite, it is still considered overall. The purest and most refined visually is the scene where the girl who has a crush on Sean commits suicide. The composition and colors are beautiful.

On the whole, it is a bit chic and a little ironic. Now it seems that in addition to the equipment and other things, it looks more professional, and the shooting methods are actually quite well-formed (not to say conventional, although there is a little bit of conventional) small indie movies. At the beginning, it was strongly promoted by investors as a teen movie, no wonder the response was so big - Avary said that the premiere was in Orange County, a very conservative place. I saw Paul and Richard (or Dick, hahaha╮(╯▽) ╰)╭) Dancing on the bed, many boys stood up on the spot and shouted "fag movie!!!" and left.

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Extended Reading
  • Jason 2021-12-22 08:01:44

    I'm most afraid of using a very advanced technique, a very literary and youthful cast to produce an unintelligible film. Is the original author really the one who wrote "American Mental Patient"? The protagonist of this film is really the younger brother of the hero of "American Psychiatric"? The method of montage is pretty good. For example, when Sean and Lauren school met, Victor's European debauchery, but I don’t know what I’m going to talk about. What's the use of montage? Confusion Confusion Confusion Confusion, under such advanced packaging, Confusion has become synonymous with contrived.

  • Theodore 2022-04-23 07:02:44

    uh, don't quite understand why it's in porn

The Rules of Attraction quotes

  • Victor: [summarizing his vacation] Took a charter flight on a DC-10 to London. Landed at Heathrow. Took a cab to the city center. Don't let people lie to you: hostels are for the ugly. I'm staying in Home House, the most beautiful hotel in the world. Called a friend from school who was selling hash, but she wasn't in. Met a couple of Brits who take me to, of all places, Camden Street. I flirt a bit at the Virgin Megastore, buy some CDs, then follow some girls with pink hair. I wandered around trying to get laid, until it started to rain, then went back to Home House. Ministry of Sound is dead, so I go to Remform - but it's Gay Night. I find the one hetero girl in the place and we dry hump on the dance floor. We cab it back to Home House. I strip her clothes off, suck her toes, and we fuck. I hung out for four or five days. Met the world's biggest DJ, Paul Oakenfold. Kept missing the Changing of the Guards. Wrote my mom a postcard I never sent. Bought some speed from an Italian junkie who was trying to sell me a stolen bike. Smoked a lot of hash that had too much tobacco in it. Saw the Tate. Saw Big Ben. Ate a lot of weird English food. It rained a lot, it was expensive, and I'm jonesing... So, I split for Amsterdam. The Dutch all know English, so I didn't have to speak any Dutch - which was a relief. I cruise the Red Light District. Visit a sex show. Visit a sex museum. Smoke a lot of hash. I meet a Dutch TV actress and we drink absinthe at a bar called Absinthe. The museums were cool, I guess. Lots of Van Goghs and the Vermeers were intense. Wandered around. Bought a lot of pastries. Ate some intense waffles. We bought some coke and I cruised the Red Light District, until I found some blonde with big tits that reminds me of Lara. I gave her a hundred guilders. In the end, she pulls me out, and I cum between her tits, even though I'm wearing a rubber. Afterward we made small-talk about AIDS, her Moroccan pimp, and herself. I wake to the sound of a wino singing. It's 8 AM and hot as blazes. I pretend to ice-skate around Central Station, while someone plays the sax. Trade songs with a Kiwi girl... Then split for Paris by train. Wander the Champs-Elysees. Climb the Eiffel Tower for only seven francs, because the ticket machine was broken. Got the hang of the Metro, took it everywhere. Went to a Ford model party and hooked up with a Romanian model named Karina. She chugs my cock at the Mariott Champs-Elysees, which is good. We played billiards, went shopping. I think she gave me mono. Drove a Ferrari that belonged to a member of the Saudi royal family. Made out with a Dutch model in front of the Louvre. Saw the Arc de Triomphe and almost became road-kill crossing the street... "Oakie" invites me to Dublin, so I catch an Aer Lingus flight and stay at the Morrison. Dublin rocks like you can't imagine. Oakenfold lets me spin some discs with him. Irish girls are as small as leprechauns. I swap hickeys with a drunk woman. After groping my abs and calling me "Mr. L.A.", she strips for me in the bath room of the club. Sneak into the Guinness factory and steal some stout so good my dick goes hard... I fly to Barcelona, which was a low-rent bust. Too many fat American students. Too many lame meat markets. I dropped acid at the Sagrada Familia, which was a trip to say the least. Cruise up the coast to the Museo Gala Dali, but had no more acid, which sucked. Some girl from Camden calls me on my cell, so I let her listen to the church bells in Cadaques. Canta Cruz is beautiful, but there are no girls here, just old hippies... So, I went to Switzerland where I, ironically, couldn't find anyone who had the time. Took the Glacier Express up the Schilthorn, which is beautiful in a way I can't describe... Euro Pass into Italy and ended up in Venice, where I met a hot girl who looks like Rachael Leigh Cook and speaks better English than I do. She's living for a year on only five dollars a day. We gondola around, buy some masks. She think's I'm a capitalist, because my hotel room costs more for one night than she's spending her entire trip. But she doesn't mind it so much when I pay the bills... I ditch her and hook up with a couple who obviously want a 3-some. Too much tension there, but the doofus offers to drive me to Rome, an offer I jump at. Traffic is bad and we're stopped for hours without moving. The wife turns out to be a freak. The guy starts to wig out on me. It's like a Polanski film... We stop for a while in Florence, where I see some big dome. A bomb goes off and I lose the weird couple, which is probably for the best... Ended up in Rome, which is big and hot and dirty. It was just like L.A., but with ruins. I went to the Vatican, which was ridiculously opulent. Stood for two hours to get into the Sistine Chapel, which - now that it's been cleaned - looks fake. I meet two under-age Italian girls who I try to talk into fucking each other while I jack off onto them. Bored, I buy them some ice cream instead. My hotel has a gym, so I work out. I bump into some guy from Camden who says he knows me, but I'm sure that he's a fag, so I lose him. I try to fart and instead shit my pants. Back in my hotel room, I masturbate and have a pain in my groin. That night, I dream about a beautiful girl, half in water, stretching her lean body. She asks me if I like it and I tell her she can clean fish with it. I don't know what it means, but I wake well-rested, masturbate in the shower, and check out... I make my way back to London and hang out in Piccadilly Circus. Hmm. Palakon. I swap shirts with some upper-crusty Cambridge chick. Hers was an Agnes B., mine a Costume Nationale. She acts stuffy and prudish, but is really wild underneath it all. She barely looks at my abs, though she wants to. The next day, I drop some acid and get lost in the subway for a full day and can't find my way out. I meet a cute girl who lets me jack off onto her as long as no cum gets onto her Paul Smith coat. We get stoned while listening to Michael Jackson records and the next morning I wake up talking to myself. I have a big bump on my head from flailing in my sleep. I get my stuff and barely make my plane back to the United States... I no longer know who I am and I feel like the ghost of a total stranger.

  • Sean Bateman: [post-sex, to Lara, who is sobbing sadly] What's wrong? I told you I came.

    Lara: [gloomily sniffling] I was born in a Holiday Inn.

    Sean Bateman: [voice of the mind] Better that it's not Lauren. Note to self: Never 'shroom again. It only gets you into trouble.