Cohen made the westerns no longer just sand, no longer a coincidence with one outlet, no longer a fairy tale with a rib. Cohen gave him a fork in which to stop, and gave him a wild bear. When the old rooster woke up from a sound sleep in the kitchen, he looked up and encountered a bunch of low-hanging ducks or chickens. .
Cohen brought me the galloping starry night, the triangular character line of opposite shots, long shots, random shots, misfires and balance, the story that fluctuated to sway and the loose ending of Dugu seeking defeat after tension. Really love Cohen. Not a genius with a flash of light, but a wise man who cultivates both inside and outside, and is sensitive and light. It is rare to have a perseverance and a standout.
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