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A momentary slump
Harrison 2022-04-21 09:02:54
A friend lent me a lot of CDs, so I picked this one first. Speaking of which, this is also the first time I have watched a Russian war movie, and I have never known about the famous director Tarkovsky. The whole film is black and white, with a cold sense of the times; cannon fodder renders the cruelty of war; swamps, muddy water, sporadic artillery fire, dilapidated ruins, hanged soldiers... Scenes and scenes are pouring out with visual impact. come. I love the cut of the film, the black-and-white documentary-like feel of the shots, which gives us a context of "feeling the pain of others" as Susan Sontag puts it. In the smooth black and white, Ivan's pretty face is impressive; however, at the end of the film, Ivan and his sister are running happily on the beach, facing the sunset (sorry, because it's black and white, so I'm not sure it's the morning sun It's still sunset, but I think children generally like to play in the afternoon...), the film ended here, leaving the audience with aphasia... Tarkovsky gave the audience the right to speak, Nothing superfluous and sensational. Just like a photographer with a camera, watching all beings from the sidelines; however, the crimes of the Nazis, the embarrassment to the disappearance of Ruhua’s childhood, quietly played a string in the silent place, dejected, desolate, and firm.
Extended Reading
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Fay 2022-03-16 09:01:05
Fantasy dreams and real scenes show the same power in different ways, and the use of space and sound is amazing. Tarkovsky's sculpting of fragments is almost at its peak in his debut work, but the whole still has a sense of fault.
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Clement 2022-03-28 09:01:07
Tarkovsky's use of water, light and shadow, sound and scene, the poetic expression of the film as a whole, his personal style is already so prominent in this film
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Ivan's Mother: If a well is really deep, you can see a star down there even in the middle of a sunny day.
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Ivan: Is he a Fritz too?
Galtsev: He's either a German doctor or writer.
Ivan: They have no writers. I saw them burning books in a square. They poured gasoline on them and set them on fire. There was soot in the air for a week.
Galtsev: That writer lived 400 years ago.
Ivan: Well, then maybe.