's "Summer in Provence" describes a brief holiday The story of a family growing up. In the film, people of every age seem to be struggling to learn to love and understand. The film spends a lot of time showing the absurd feelings of the teenage siblings, including how they find joy in a fiery romance and hurt in their immature blindness. But the biggest conflict in the film is also the most lasting warmth, which comes from the dramatic family conflict: the stubborn grandfather, the willful mother, the rebellious brother and sister are struggling in the process of estrangement and strangeness. The story is simple and true, and the constructed contradiction is like a piece of ice, wrapped in the bright sunshine of Provence, and melted slowly and inevitably into a pool of clear water reflecting the lavender.
This is the magic of Provence.
Some people commented that the film is not so much a family drama as it is a travel scenery film. The tones in the film are bright and bold, and the praise of Provence overflows in every frame of the picture. You can smell the aroma of olive oil and feel the warm sunshine of the Mediterranean through the screen. There are endless ouzo, plentiful apricots, pine trees swaying on the vast plains, and the beauty of thyme can be carried to the other side of the Alps with the wind; people there with dancing shoes and mouth organ Births, gatherings and parties are the top priorities, they kiss the land of the Mediterranean, they fight bulls, they are bold and passionate, their eyes are filled with the scent of lavender; where the sun is shining and all the filth and filth are hidden.
The film did not deliberately avoid the stubbornness in life in order to show beauty. There are young people selling psychedelic drugs, old people who are alcoholics, and the pain of losing relatives, but there is no pain and anxiety. The bastard who harassed the girl was just slapped away, the hand holding the wine glass was put down under the supervision of the children, and the helplessness over death disappeared in the singing of the old friend and the wanton tears. There is never absolute pain, only painful souls.
In "A Year in Provence", Peter Meier described what the people of Provence are most worried about, "The headlines of the local tabloid "Daily Provence" usually publish things such as the results of local football matches and the rambling remarks of small local politicians. , as well as trivial trivial matters such as the thrilling supermarket robbery in the town of Cavellon, known as the 'Chicago of Provence'. To imitate the bloody murder of Formula 1 champion Alan's attempted attempt." This is a leisure that is unique to the countryside, regardless of Chinese and Western. Because if there is no excessive interest, there will be no excessive desire; if there is no excessive desire, there will be no excessive competition.
Human desires and pursuits are like balloons, and matter is like air injected into it. The more gas, the more inflated the balloon, and it always gives the illusion that it can inflate indefinitely. The key is that as long as the balloon is full, it is enough. Excessive inflation of the bluff will not only not look better, but also face the danger of explosion. In the era of rapid development of productivity, I often think about what we should pursue after we are full and warm. After all, the pleasure of lying in a rose field and looking at the blue sky is never less than a bottle of rose perfume that is expensive. Urban people spend their lives in mediocre life, for material, status and dignity, and in the end, with a swipe of loess, they forget the fragrance of flowers.
This is probably the reason why the people of Provence are reluctant to set foot in Paris.
The unruly motorcyclist of the year has now become a conservative and stubborn strange old man who grows olive trees in the countryside. It is the grandfather's pursuit of inner wealth. This is not a tragedy of youth leaving, but it is precisely that he never came out of his youth. Paul said: "People in Paris say 'this city is amazing, I can't see how time passes', but I can see time changing, I can see how time passes, in the morning, the morning light is blue ; at noon, in the Alps at night, the sky is like silk. In Paris, eating in the morning, sleeping at night, and seeing nothing, I call this a life of being fooled." His guitar, the charming public lover took off the silk scarf, the lingering couple kissed with anisette, and Paul and the olive tree chatted about the happiness of success. They have their own trivialities in their lives, their own struggles and troubles, and they also compromise and give in, but they do not evade and forget. They do not let life bind their dreams, but turn life into a dream.
This is Provence, the people here are warm and hearty, the flowers here are blooming strongly, and the trees here are pleasant and fragrant. When you need beauty and meaning, it will give you anything.
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