This is my favorite cartoon. It should not be very clear, not very three-dimensional, or even very colorful. It has some old-fashioned colors and clumsy movements, as well as the warmth that everyone knows, using slow to defeat fast.
How many things can one truly possess in one's life? The pursuit of things may be more and more, but the real possession, but less and less. It's not just years that have passed between our fingers. The old man was fishing alone in the center of the hut, eating simple food, and living the same life. Facing the house full of photos from the past, what more could he want in addition to memory and a tiny body?
Yes, there are memories. Memory is not ostentatious, memory needs contacts. As long as you have it, you will never lose it. When the diving old man opens the gates layer by layer, every memory blind spot hidden in his mind is activated. How to give you medicine one bite at a time, but ask your wrinkled face to give me a warm smile forever; how to tip over to the ground in a duel, leaving an embarrassed but naturally laughing family portrait; how to reluctantly Hold the hand of that handsome guy, when my daughter brought him back shyly for the first time; how to look at you, walk with my daughter, wave goodbye to her; how to grow up with you under the tree, and you promise When I proposed, the tree laughed so much that its branches and leaves trembled...
Rewind, rewind, it's hard to stop. In the heart of a dying old man, all the sofas, carpets, tables and chairs are all resurrected. A frame of memory is a life, no wonder people will die when they get old. The forgetting of memory pulls life away. When he picked up the pipe she had picked up, when he picked up the wine glass he had used together, he seemed young again.
When I saw the gates being opened layer by layer, I suddenly thought of "Inception". In "Pirates of Dreams", they enter layers after layers of dreams, which are illusory, and carry real shadows everywhere. Here, we enter the memory fortress of an old man. It is obviously a place where real life has been lived, but it has become a ruin. Only by relying on the people who have lived in it can everything be restored. When he entered the bottom, he didn't forget himself and abandoned the world.
Solitary blisters rose up one after another, and then shattered quietly. Finally, the old man took out the wine, and the original lonely glass on the table became two. How warm and sad it should be to drink with memory quietly.
View more about The House of Small Cubes reviews
