I now feel my emotions are getting richer. A film like this fascinates me so much. At first I really couldn't figure out why a girl who could play Mozart so vividly would be such a cruel and crazy murderer. In the last four minutes, that is, the four minutes of the love key, a section of Schumann's A minor turns out to be a prelude to this violent collision and fusion of black music. Crazy plucking like a rainstorm, hysterical playing, frantically scraping the strings, slamming the wood hard, stomping the floor ruthlessly, and finally ending with a hammering of the keys. I don't know why, but seeing this makes me feel so vulnerable. The audience was surprised and shocked for a moment, followed by thunderous applause, Jenny smiled at her teacher, Mrs. Kruger, and made a perfect curtsy, so perfect that the police just put the handcuffs on her in the most graceful manner. hand.
I love this comment, it's four minutes into a dish, four minutes into a moth. Jenny's playing is a splendid bloom that burns a lifetime in an instant like a nebula, and pours the anger, rebellion, pain, grievance and sadness that have been suppressed for 20 years into the music without reservation, and plays a song about passion and hope. , dream, talent, heroic elegy of life. In her music, I can hear the inner cry, the roar of the soul, the indictment of fate and the thirst for dreams.
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