During the concert, Pu Shu said that his favorite song in his second album was "She's Sleeping". The lyrics are like this:
So quiet our night yeah / watching you sleep next to me / like a child
I want to shake you up / tell you how much I love you yeah
Lover, wake up/ look at me and say you love me too
But came to the world to love me / through the vast sea of people / sleeping beside me
How much I want to stay / Always by your pillow / Have fun with you day and night
Lover / look at me / just grow old unfeelingly like this
After listening to this song, I thought to myself, Pak Shu must love that person more in order to write such a song. When watching this movie, Pak Shu’s song keeps ringing in my head.
How long have I not been moved by the "Pure Love" movie? It's really been a long time. Of course, I have forgotten my "wenqing" attribute, it does not mean that I am not a literary youth. In the right scene, it will still burst out like this. It was like this when I watched this movie. It's like falling in love and falling out of love again.
It happened to be twilight after watching, because the epidemic is raging, I always feel that the scenery at dusk is like the end of the day. But I was very moved. I asked myself why I like this movie so much. After thinking about it for a long time, it might be like telling my own story.
Some stories are of universal value. Jia Zhangke looked at Hou Xiaoxian and said that Hou Xiaoxian’s story was clearly not a story from Taiwan, but a story from Fenyang in Shanxi—an Italian director (I forgot which one) read Jia Zhangke’s "Xiao Wu" and said it was clearly not Fenyang The story is the story of Italy.
Dr. W and I often have such conversations. I asked him, why do you like XX? He always answers, it seems that it is because of his own mood and his own story. I often roll my eyes quietly in my heart when I am noncommittal. But this time it was my turn. I can't think of a specific reason why I like this movie, I just think it tells my story.
Think about it carefully, why is my story worth moving and admirable? It's because most movies are labeled as "love" or "comrade", and they don't talk about deep textures. Of course, I was not moved by consuming all the labels, let alone telling my story. This "Portrait of a Burning Woman" is different. It is powerful in that its story tells so well. The relationship between people, about love and parting, is so restrained and understated, but it also looks like a real story. .
Therefore, if you don't regard the movie as a "lesbian" movie-I often don't understand the transition of the emotional state of lesbians, and I don't bother to understand it if it's too dense and detailed-this one is different.
I even think that Call Me By Your Name should look like this if it were taken.
There are too many angles to interpret why two girls fell in love with each other. I think the powerful part about this part lies in the relationship between gaze, creation and love. In the process of creation, you will fall in love Your staring object. The shape of her ears, the corners of her angry mouth, her gesture of waving her hand—the interactive part about pure love—how to seduce, confirm, etc., I think may not be as good as CMBYN, but it is not important. Taking into account the rich lady's story and the background of the times, we can easily produce a complete set of love narratives-which is not important in my opinion-as a movie, it is naturally important, but it is not the reason I like it very much. What do i like? I like the last paragraph.
Many people who are deeply involved in your life, people who have deeply affected your life situation, and in the end you often never meet again.
Those acquaintances, temptations, passions... watch her in her sleep, watch her hard, watch her like the last time-or leave the most important things at the time for each other, wishing to give them all to each other-each The stories have their own beginnings, successes, and transitions, but the ending is often the same-you never met again.
Look at her from behind, look at her when she is in the backlight, look at her when she is not paying attention-from looking upright, to looking at a distance, as if separated from the past and present.
The penultimate time I saw her, I saw her portrait in the gallery.
Is that her? That's it.
Is that her? How could it be her.
I think of Eslite in Taipei in 2013. I saw on the bookshelf the posthumous works of a certain "friend" who had passed away published in Taiwan-I shed tears in the morning sun. Such an unexpected encounter is also a form of "meeting."
The first time I saw her from the bottom, she was sitting quietly opposite you. You stare at her, you think she didn't see you-but she did not respond to your gaze, the camera zoomed in, the other party barely blinked, eyes filled with tears-how did you know that she didn't see And you. It's just that you think that. This way you can watch her more unscrupulously. Or in your version, the story finally has a less scribble ending, you just finished it. The other party also has its own version. You never actually cared about her version. You only care about your version. I used to stare like that. I disappear into the gaze of others, or I gaze at others in the dark, I think they don’t know. Why do I just confirm that others don't know.
In the villain's film reviews, Chen Danqing said that he was very wary of emotional manipulation when watching movies. It's the same for me, as if following the director's screen is very sorry for my IQ. However, Chen Danqing said that often when watching some gay movies, you will be moved in a mess, because they make you believe that those pure love parts are real, because the taboos themselves are silent but powerful, and your love can only be silent. But powerless, disappeared in the smoke and dust of history.
Yes, this is a story of a female painter in the 18th century, a story of two girls. They have loved, and their time does not allow them to love. They never saw each other again. Reluctantly hide all the stories in his life narrative, and burst out in other ways where he is missing. This is also my story. I never saw him, her or him again. I occasionally see their status quo in some places, and I will stare at them if there is no one next to them. Or I also met him in the crowd, when I secretly looked at him, I found that he was also looking at me. We did not speak, but rushed away with the flow of people in the opposite direction.
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