When watching "The Irishman", I was stunned and confused, and I had to switch quickly between subtitles and pictures to deal with the barrage of lines. A series of major events, the Bay of Pigs incident, the assassination of Kennedy..., flashed one after another, but my heart was almost instinctively resisting all kinds of causes and effects overflowing with conspiracy theories. There was a pile of ugly old bodies in front of them, but the familiar faces of how beautiful they were (Joe Pesci couldn't count them) flashed back in their minds, wandering in confusion and sigh. The dark curtain rises, but there is no peace; the aftertaste lingers, and it seems that a little bit of infiltrating breath can be smelled.
Gangster movies, to be precise, New Yorkers' gangster movies, should be the first guide for many people of the same age. For people before and after adolescence, at that time it meant wanting unbridled youth, anger that had nowhere to declare, the complexity and fear of the oncoming society, the past that could not be reviewed or collected... When we got older, helpless, angry World, deceit, breakthrough... A little more, a little more, think about it, and react a little more. Coppola's metaphorical addiction to the colossal structure of the Roman Empire, Scorsese's social observation addiction keen on conspiracy theories, or Seonne's overflowing nostalgia, has finally reached today, with a group of decaying bodies, through this communication Mixed with extreme performance personality (even nonsense) unofficial history, do a song and end it. This sense of ashes at the end of time makes this curtain call especially bleak.
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