This piece and last year's poor porn pass through the future have a touchstone role. The former is used to test whether film critics have professional theoretical literacy and aesthetic ability, and the latter is used to test the authenticity of literary youth.
This movie can't be called a good movie from any angle, and the lines completely reveal the shallowness of the director's literary foundation. Modiano's text is wrapped in the aesthetic shell of Tarkovsky, and it lacks even the most basic sincerity in artistic creation.
Forget about "artistic creation". The "secrets" and character relationships in the long shots are completely unsustainable (such as adult Huang Jue crying because of a fucking sentence that only refers to his own childhood, and many more), and no one can stand without speaking human words throughout. The characters are like props that can do actions. After the twisting room at the end was set up twice, the surprise that should have become a boring necessity. The information density in the long shot is so low that only the music of Lin Qiang and Xu Zhiyuan can be used to save the scene.
In the end, the scheduling gave up the subject and wandered for a long time to find the "eternal shortness" in order to achieve the perfection of the form. It reminded me of a god-level scheduling made by Director Guo Jingming in his eight-minute special effects long shot: in order to preserve the long shot , the camera directly hit the air conditioner outside the corner to make a blocking transition, yes, it is still a long shot.
As for the shot before the long take, I really can't imagine what kind of split the director went through when editing. Editing has completely become a bottom-up project for the script.
I don't like ordinary audiences like Lu Zhiyu embarrassing this film. In my judgment, it is only 3/10, but I will not give this score.
Although I don't like "The Elephant Sitting on the Floor" very much, but about the sincerity of creation and the real talent (sensitivity and creativity), I completely felt it in Hu Bo's "Lamo in the Distance". In front of him, Bi Gan is really only an art speculator.
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