The beginning of the film glides slowly through the ruins of postwar Japan. The ruins after the war are far from the desolation and sadness of broken wells and broken walls, only sadness, about death and despair. ...
The style of the film has always been slow and compact. Since the judge, Mr. Mei Ruqian, sternly fought for seats, the film has been filled with the backbone of the real China people of that era. I think of Mr. Mei Ruao's stern statement that I am not here for pleasure, and I think of his heavy and firm face. It seems to me that at that time, we China people were burdened with the heavy sigh of that painful history and remembered the texts we learned in middle school. < < Talking about the backbone > > I always feel that we China people are always weak in saying that we have backbone in modern times. However, at that moment, looking at Mr. Mei Ruao's firm and clear eyes, I suddenly felt that the sentence was so distinctive and abrupt, and it hit the ground. ...
The trial has started, but progress is so slow. The pressure from big countries is faintly dispersed in this hall that should be absolutely fair. War criminals are either confident or weak, or plain, and the declaration of innocence collapses with the defense lawyers' arguments. The debate of Mr. Ni Yuzheng is undoubtedly a bright spot. Righteous words and wise and agile skills made those arrogant or deaf war criminals lose their armor and be wiped out.
In the film, court and society, life and war are always interspersed. The shadow of the war not only hung over China's head, but also left an indelible mark on the hearts of the Japanese people. Whether it's a Japanese soldier who shouted Japanese devils against the war, a Japanese journalist who fell in love with the people of China, or a Japanese youth who is still crazy about militarism, too many years have passed and too much time has been blocked. The originally colorful and happy life became pale because of the war.
What shocked me most was not the heavy love between Xiao Nan, a China reporter, and a Japanese woman, nor the Japanese youth shooting their relatives and lovers, but that in that pub, when the beautiful proprietress gently hummed Japanese folk songs and danced with her love for life and her natural tenderness, a bullet from nowhere went through her body and she just fell down. The bright smile fluttered with the wind in the haze brought by the war, like a spring flower that thanked before opening. She just collapsed, her eyes were still unwilling and confused, and there was blood all over the floor. Is the life and peace she longs for just her dream?
In the end, the war criminals were found guilty, but the death penalty became the focus of debate. When Mr. Mei Ruao argued, when he said that the victims were watching us, when he solemnly drew out the votes in favor of the death penalty, I could only keep silent and stick to it. Although I know that there is no suspense in the judgment of death, my heart is still voting with the judges one by one, with the opening of the ballot box. With the serious and quiet singing of the tickets, I felt nervous, as if I had returned to that era, as if I was standing in that hall, as if I were an undead, as if my soul was praying for the victims. ...
At the end of the film, when the judge uttered the word guilty word by word, when I thought of those abandoned villages, when I saw the bones of those victims and the suffering of those who were alive, my heart was never satisfied with the execution of those Class A war criminals. Even if you die thousands of times, who will save those innocent lives and prepare for the situation?
I suddenly think of Pu Shu> I think of his slight vicissitudes of life, and repeatedly ask who will commemorate those lives without tombstones?
History will eventually become history, and perhaps the heaviness of history will be forgotten because of the passage of time. In the cinema, there are only five spectators. Compared with watching & gt watching & gt, the noise of time is just bleak, or we have forgotten it, or we don't want to remember it at all. Romance, fictional love between life and death, gorgeous costumes and gorgeous stunts are all better and more attractive than heavy and painful memories. ...
Who is as determined as those great China people?
Who remembers those historical moments of that era, the sword above our heads?
What we should remember is not hatred, but the traces cut by years in this land of China. ...
For those who died, for those who fought for the rise of China, for our own motherland and for ourselves. In Chengdu in September, the wind is still warm, and I haven't felt so passionate about Peng Pai for a long time. ...
For that period of history, for the great people of China, and for the> crew, I would like to extend my deepest respect. We China people have backbone! ! !