Hypnotize with Wenderson

Pinkie 2022-03-20 09:01:58

I was very tired, but I couldn't sleep, so I read "Under the Berlin Sky" and watched the master to hypnotize me.

The master did not disappoint. At the 49th minute of the film, I had completely lost my patience. Looking at the screen display, there were still 1 hour and 15 minutes left, and the story still did not seem to start. The angel is still wandering in the world, listening to the troubles and sufferings of all kinds of people, and he has not fallen for love. When I was in college, I saw the Hollywood remake. It seemed to be called "X Lover", starring Meg Ryan and Nicolas Cage. It was very emotional, and I was completely moved.

Probably not telling a story, the background of black and white, the color pictures that flashed occasionally, more of a low monologue, and a close-up of a desolate face, or a kind of mood. I no longer want to understand.

View more about Wings of Desire reviews

Extended Reading
  • Roselyn 2022-03-27 09:01:10

    Lonely man, lonely angel. I have seen the movies that are closest to poetry. The world of angels is black and white, and it is people's innermost thoughts. The world of human beings is lonely but colorful. In the end, the angels chose the human world. The use of color is very experimental. The angel world has no dialogue, only narration, which is very experimental, but Wenders' thinking and thick about life outside of the experimental.

  • Una 2022-03-22 09:02:03

    Under the sky of Berlin, all beings, from the perspective of angels, spy into the hearts of the characters. Black and white tones, poetic language, flashing the old tower-like aura. Everyone's thoughts are intertwined, confused and hazy, and the national pain can't be seen along the Berlin Wall. A special film, a flow of emotions.

Wings of Desire quotes

  • Damiel: When the child was a child, it was the time of these questions. Why am I me, and why not you? Why am I here, and why not there? When did time begin, and where does space end? Isn't life under the sun just a dream? Isn't what I see, hear, and smell just the mirage of a world before the world? Does evil actually exist, and are there people who are really evil? How can it be that I, who am I, wasn't before I was, and that sometime I, the one I am, no longer will be the one I am?

  • Homer, the aged poet: [inner voice] Tell me, muse, of the storyteller who has been thrust to the edge of the world, both an infant and an ancient, and through him reveal everyman. With time, those who listened to me became my readers. They no longer sit in a circle, bur rather sit apart. And one doesn't know anything about the other. I'm an old man with a broken voice, but the tale still rises from the depths, and the mouth, slightly opened, repeats it as clearly, as powerfully. A liturgy for which no one needs to be initiated to the meaning of words and sentences.