I guess the Third World must have a gulf of beauty for European and American art film festivals. Japan used to be, then Iran, then Taiwan, China, India, Mexico, etc. came barefoot. The foreigners' pursuit of these literary themes or hypocritical cultural pursuits or the psychology of hunting for "different" may be because I really don't understand them.
This literary film has a slow rhythm, which is hard to convince me. It is hard to be memorable just because of the exquisiteness of the picture.
The details of life are also treated coldly, and the impression is as deep as the confrontation between mother and daughter Christmas in the song "the quiet".
It is the middle-aged crisis of both men and women in the small town, like gazing in the rain of the bridge of the bridge.
Choosing non-professional actors and pursuing daily feelings has become their weakness. Except for the cold scene of exchanges at the table during the opening period, it must be very appetizing of the petty literary bourgeoisie. But after that, there is no foundation, the restraint of bound feet.
I typed the words seven or eighty-eight, thinking that nowadays, all the environmental protection concepts seem to be born in the main house, immediately. . . . . . And internationally released literary films also have formulas, just like Hollywood commercial films (not discussing the boundaries of this category) pinch the word formula:
n seconds / fast lens x (male and female + violence + fantasy + nudity + pop music +slang)=.
So the literary formula I guess is: n minutes / slow motion x (flat men and women + pots and pans + starry sky + clear sky + National Geographic large landscape photos + speechless + speechless + speechless to tinnitus...)
So not Every director has the elegant beauty of Tarkovsky and the self-sufficient piety of Dreyer.
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