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Don't let the dazzling brilliance cover the humbleness and greatness of the dust
Demetrius 2022-03-25 09:01:15
When the pictures that were torn apart by jealousy were spread out, when the male protagonist rubbed his hands on the blurred video of "The Last Kiss", the past love could only rely on memory to pass through to keep warm. But this is not the most moving part of the film, but because it is so rich and colorful that people involuntarily fall into this love vortex, mistakenly thinking that this is the point, and perhaps because of this reason too many film critics complain that A Dao has lost this time. The level is high, and the story is told a bit vulgar (of course, Cruz's brilliance is so much that it often becomes the visual focus). And I think the focus of the film's narrative should be on the director's female agent. Her love is forbearance and tolerance, and she doesn't even want to let father and son recognize each other to break the balance that has always been there. It can be said that she is humbled to the dust. Director Ah's distress for this woman is reflected in the happy ending. 1. Cruz's two bed scenes are in stark contrast: the former is full of passion and the flesh is blooming like a flower; the latter is covered with a white sheet like a shroud, and the twisting folds are almost suffocating. 2. The structure of the play within the play is very reminiscent of "Bad Education", but the ending uses a brand new editing to make the characters in the play "reborn".
Extended Reading
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Diego: When you were waiting at the roundabout, for a car to pass on your left, Lena and you kissed.
Mateo Blanco: We kissed? I don't remember that.
Diego: It's a normal kiss, the kind couples give each other out of habit.
Mateo Blanco: The last kiss.
Diego: Yes. Lena didn't die in your arms, like you'd dreamed, but the last sensation she took from this world was your mouth.
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[first lines]
[in Spanish, quoting English subtitles]
Modelo: What's your name?
Mateo Blanco: Harry Caine.
[voiceover]
Mateo Blanco: I used to be called Mateo and I was a film director. I was always tempted by the idea of being someone else, as well as myself. Living one's life wasn't enough, so I invented a pseudonym, Harry Caine, an adventurer who, as fate would have it, became a writer. I had him sign all the scripts and stories I wrote. For years, Mateo Blanco and Harry Caine shared the same body, mine. But a moment came when suddenly I could only be Harry Caine. I became my pseudonym. A self-made writer made by himself. There was just one unforseen detail. Harry Caine would be a blind writer.