Between business and literature, this evaluation is quite accurate. It makes me a little sad.
For myself, who is about to step into the film industry, I seem to see myself struggling in the future from an art country that runs counter to material things.
No matter how close the novel and reality are, it is impossible to overlap. This sentence can be regarded as an excuse for Clay, but it is indeed a psychological portrayal of every artist. Utopia is utopia, and the yellow beam is still the yellow beam. They are not the same at all.
This road is really not easy. The talented person is like Clay, the scenery is infinite, but everything is empty, ridiculous, and imaginable; the firework person is like Jack, who has an endless life, only the manuscript at that moment. , Electric light flint; ordinary people such as Luo Li, sluggishly obscure, constantly conceited, limited talents, and endless energy.
We don't want to see our own Jack's future, but without Cray's talent, we can only accept Rory's plagiarism painfully.
I am discouraged, I am even a little desperate, life. Seeing such an annual ring work, I don't seem to have any reason to use my crude ignorance to moan without illness. There is a struggling soul under every lamp.
I believe that every young man who enters the arts has a life of doubting himself and suffering from frustration. If you take away the words, you have to bear the pain. In fact, it is far more than just these pains. You must know that no matter how meticulously you sculpt it, it is still more difficult to accept than stolen cinnamon, and more difficult to accept than morality. It is actually yourself.
The Word begins with a heavy rain. The mechanically feeble face looks through the raindrops of the car window, and the stubborn old man is sticking a cane. Maybe this is a chaotic time and space. If there is no orange flower fragrance, this would not be the case. There will be no foregone conclusion afterwards.
We can completely treat this error as a story told by Clay, without any realistic prototype.
We can also regard the tears we are forced out of as the heavy rain jumping on the car that day, and we can also accept the intense emotions of each actor in front of the scene without any thought and logic.
But it doesn't seem to work. This film has stepped on the cat's tail, so we bounced up, a film review or an absolute or a reveal or a literary review, this is our choice. Then, with choices, pretend to accept life indifferently.
Originally, I wanted to mention that after Jack experienced the broken marriage of his daughter, he saw his already married ex-wife in the car and stepped on the tail of my tear ducts. Rory sits on the bench, and the children play on the lawn. From our young lives, we seem to know the generality of a person's life, but our inadvertent choices make the road of life twists and turns. Yes, you can curse like a mad dog, but in the end, you have to let everything calm down.
I almost subconsciously imagined what kind of life the French girl experienced. What she brought to Jack was the profound and admiration that she couldn't let go of in her life, what about her. Jack in the car was astonished and disappointed. The woman waiting for the car had a little wave of eyes and flat corners of her mouth. She hesitantly raised her white gloves to say goodbye, and she was gone again.
The story teller Kray, the famous Kray, and the weathered and seemingly wise Kray, smiled and accepted the naked and purposeful hookup of the newcomer. We can imagine that he watched more of this kind of scenes.
However, brought home, under the starless night, repeated offensive questioning, standing and speaking with painful condemnation, forced to face the masked face, two glasses of flirting red wine, the night wind passed by. The window sill, the table leaning against the curtains glowing in the moonlight, shouldn't have thought that after success, there would be only red wine around.
Our choices, and the choices of others, are intertwined and become the current bad situation.
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