It has nothing to do with "The Purple Rose of Cairo"

This is a love story, this is a comedy, this is also a tragedy. In "Anne Hall", Woody Allen ran out to talk to the audience; in "The Purple Rose of Cairo", he asked the audience in the play to talk to the actors in the play.
This story seems absurd, light-hearted, and humorous, but the director has conveyed to us the most serious question: How true can the characters created by actors be? How much influence can a character on the screen have on reality?
In the play, a character on the screen said:'We re-defined semantics, calling the reality on the screen and the illusion over there. 'Should we also rethink performance: Is the actor creating the character or the role creating the actor?
Borges has a saying:'It is not the great pioneers who created the later writers, but the great writers who created their pioneers. 'Those who we now call pioneers, if there is no greater person in the future, then we will not remember these pioneers in history. If you think of an actor, the first thing that comes to mind is his role, or as a living person. Not only actors, but all artists: painters, sculptors, musicians, architects, writers, etc., the first thing you think of is their profound and moving works, or a person of flesh and blood. In the long history of mankind, are we living in our own works or as if we never existed before. How many people and things have been annihilated, and the only thing left is the silent work, which tells on behalf of the creator of the past: You created me, and now I construct you. Some people say: Once a work of art is completed, it does not belong to the artist, it does not belong to anyone. Heidegger said: Art is the truth that puts itself into the work. How do we understand performing arts? When we appreciate the classic moments of movie history, the actors are not there, some are just roles. Don't worship any actor, only pay attention to his performance; don't worship any artist, only care about his work.
Finally, the heroine of "The Purple Rose of Cairo" faces a choice. The illusion on the screen says: I am passionate, romantic, and adventurous, and I love you. Real actors say: But, I am real. She chose the truth, and the truth abandoned her. Unreal returns to the claustrophobic darkness. When another person who can understand from the whole body appears, the work will speak again.
Artists and works, this is an eternal problem: the former will betray you, and you will not get the latter.

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