当《独行月球》行将结尾时，我在黑漆漆的放映厅里想起了一句歌词：

“黑暗中 我们紧紧的相拥 看星空闪烁

就这样并排躺在一望无际 星河的中央

直到没有人能够比我们更为接近对方”

这是声音玩具的一首歌。此时此刻

了凡四训说，行善可以改命。虽然人物有戏剧化，可想平和待人的瓢虫以及卧薪尝胆的日本老者，至少是幸运的。

说回正题，白死神在整部电影进行到三分之二左右时才登场，但整个子弹列车的局主要是由白死神攒的，主要的导火索是白死神的老婆被人杀了，所以白死神要报复每一个和他老婆的死有相关性的人。导致其老婆死亡，白死神有着奇葩的脑回路：1）直接撞他妻子车辆的杀手——卡佛；2）直接导致妻子那天外出的原

这个片子我期待了一年多，没想到就拍出来这么一个沙雕烂片。

不过也早有预料，毕竟导演、编剧都是拍烂片出身的（号称好莱坞团队），上映期限一拖再拖，国外网飞上线，片名也被改成浓浓的土味......

这个片子我期待了一年多，没想到就拍出来这么一个沙雕烂片。

不过也早有预料，毕竟导演、编剧都是拍烂片出身的（号称好莱坞团队），上映期限一拖再拖，国外网飞上线，片名也被改成浓浓的土味......

【详细】

10064273

挺适合跟孩子一起看的，跟他说爸爸小时候看过的童话终于拍成电影了，让孩子提前预习一下小学生的生活。

两个小主角还挺符合我心中皮皮鲁和鲁西西的形象，圆圆的脸都很可爱。很欣慰的一点是把时间设定在八九十年代，复古的家具家电看着很亲切。

用了不少绿幕来做后期特效表现出微型小人眼中的世界，算是下了本了。

内容是典型的郑式批判教育制度，看《童话大王》长大的都很熟悉了，也

说真的，当我第一次看到匕首妹子的时候突然想到了迪士尼《后裔》里的女主，两个女孩气质五官都挺像的……朦胧间我就觉得这剧是不是会让我跳戏，果然……全剧除了过硬的音乐，其他没什么是过硬的……如果bgm响起时，男主女主突然跳起了舞，我都觉得是合情合理的……

剧情拖沓，特别拖沓，仿佛就是在给不清楚剧情和设定的观众讲述一个漫长的故事一样，全集是10集，其中9.5集都是在介绍背景和叙述

应为下载都下好了

不看下也不合适

一打开几句介绍

我就好奇杀人为毛还要留名

让后什么镜头慢动作

人物对话慢，节奏也迟缓

应为下载都下好了

不看下也不合适

一打开几句介绍

我就好奇杀人为毛还要留名

让后什么镜头慢动作

人物对话慢，节奏也迟缓

就快进。

实在没看头。

10分钟结束。

截了几个图，摄影师拍的挺好的。

【详细】

13553541

如果《爱的二八定律》是小说改编剧本，我可能只会打到8分，但这部剧居然是原创的，我会毫不犹豫地给它10分。

毫无疑问的国产原创剧本之光！！！但凡少给一颗星，我都会觉得对不起自己的良心，对不起编剧对原创剧本雕琢的用心。

如果《爱的二八定律》是小说改编剧本，我可能只会打到8分，但这部剧居然是原创的，我会毫不犹豫地给它10分。

毫无疑问的国产原创剧本之光！！！但凡少给一颗星，我都会觉得对不起自己的良心，对不起编剧对原创剧本雕琢的用心。

开播前，我以为秦施只是职场精英御姐范儿的拼命三娘，说实话如果只是这个人设的话，在很多国剧里还是满常见的。

但开播后，我发现秦施其实是一个又御又嗲、能顶事儿会来事儿的抓马小作精。真的太新鲜有趣了！！！！

尤其是第一集这个女主在名利场里亮相的片段，这股又嗲又能搞事儿的聪明机灵劲儿，一下子就把秦施这个人物的核心魅力凸显出来了，这也是秦施这个角色国产剧绝无代餐的灵魂所在。

【详细】

14773765

By：墨色朗星（微博同名：@墨色朗星 / 豆瓣：墨色朗星）

【系列解读】

By：墨色朗星（微博同名：@墨色朗星 / 豆瓣：墨色朗星）

【系列解读】

EP5：看“完美情人”带动“人生导师”实现自我成长

EP4：卑微的“信徒视角”及被打破的“表面和谐”

EP3：我想靠近你，但我“配”吗？撩汉VS低自尊塑造

EP2：像孩子那样开启“新体验”，所以，我们约会吧！

做为一部家庭“私影像”完全使用iphoneX拍摄的纪录片，这也是近两年重新很热的一种方式去记录生活。该片最难能可贵的是导演大胆地可以将自己父母离婚后的内心情感展现给观众，这种勇气值得佩服：勇于展现家庭隐私，将家庭人物情感现于银幕。

做为一部家庭“私影像”完全使用iphoneX拍摄的纪录片，这也是近两年重新很热的一种方式去记录生活。该片最难能可贵的是导演大胆地可以将自己父母离婚后的内心情感展现给观众，这种勇气值得佩服：勇于展现家庭隐私，将家庭人物情感现于银幕。

【详细】

10647288

Either peace or happiness,

let it enfold you

when I was a young man

I felt these things were

Either peace or happiness,

let it enfold you

when I was a young man

I felt these things were

dumb, unsophisticated.

I had bad blood, a twisted

mind, a precarious

upbringing.

I was hard as granite, I

leered at the

sun.

I trusted no man and

especially no

woman.

I was living a hell in

small rooms, I broke

things, smashed things,

walked through glass,

cursed.

I challenged everything,

was continually being

evicted, jailed, in and

out of fights, in and out

of my mind.

women were something

to screw and rail

at, I had no male

friends,

I changed jobs and

cities, I hated holidays,

babies, history,

newspapers, museums,

grandmothers,

marriage, movies,

spiders, garbagemen,

english accents,spain,

france,italy,walnuts and

the color

orange.

algebra angred me,

opera sickened me,

charlie chaplin was a

fake

and flowers were for

pansies.

peace and happiness to me

were signs of

inferiority,

tenants of the weak

and

addled

mind.

but as I went on with

my alley fights,

my suicidal years,

my passage through

any number of

women-it gradually

began to occur to

me

that I wasn't different

from the

others, I was the same,

they were all fulsome

with hatred,

glossed over with petty

grievances,

the men I fought in

alleys had hearts of stone.

everybody was nudging,

inching, cheating for

some insignificant

advantage,

the lie was the

weapon and the

plot was

empty,

darkness was the

dictator.

cautiously, I allowed

myself to feel good

at times.

I found moments of

peace in cheap

rooms

just staring at the

knobs of some

dresser

or listening to the

rain in the

dark.

the less I needed

the better I

felt.

maybe the other life had worn me

down.

I no longer found

glamour

in topping somebody

in conversation.

or in mounting the

body of some poor

drunken female

whose life had

slipped away into

sorrow.

I could never accept

life as it was,

i could never gobble

down all its

poisons

but there were parts,

tenuous magic parts

open for the

asking.

I re formulated

I don't know when,

date, time, all

that

but the change

occurred.

something in me

relaxed, smoothed

out.

i no longer had to

prove that I was a

man,

I didn't have to prove

anything.

I began to see things:

coffee cups lined up

behind a counter in a

cafe.

or a dog walking along

a sidewalk.

or the way the mouse

on my dresser top

stopped there

with its body,

its ears,

its nose,

it was fixed,

a bit of life

caught within itself

and its eyes looked

at me

and they were

beautiful.

then- it was

gone.

I began to feel good,

I began to feel good

in the worst situations

and there were plenty

of those.

like say, the boss

behind his desk,

he is going to have

to fire me.

I've missed too many

days.

he is dressed in a

suit, necktie, glasses,

he says, 'I am going

to have to let you go'

'it's all right' I tell

him.

He must do what he

must do, he has a

wife, a house, children,

expenses, most probably

a girlfriend.

I am sorry for him

he is caught.

I walk onto the blazing

sunshine.

the whole day is

mine

temporarily,

anyhow.

(the whole world is at the

throat of the world,

everybody feels angry,

short-changed, cheated,

everybody is despondent,

disillusioned)

I welcomed shots of

peace, tattered shards of

happiness.

I embraced that stuff

like the hottest number,

like high heels, breasts,

singing,the

works.

(don't get me wrong,

there is such a thing as cockeyed optimism

that overlooks all

basic problems just for

the sake of

itself-

this is a shield and a

sickness.)

The knife got near my

throat again,

I almost turned on the

gas

again

but when the good

moments arrived

again

I didn't fight them off

like an alley

adversary.

I let them take me,

I luxuriated in them,

I made them welcome

home.

I even looked into

the mirror

once having thought

myself to be

ugly,

I now liked what

I saw, almost

handsome, yes,

a bit ripped and

ragged,

scares, lumps,

odd turns,

but all in all,

not too bad,

almost handsome,

better at least than

some of those movie

star faces

like the cheeks of

a baby's

butt.

and finally I discovered

real feelings of

others,

unheralded,

like lately,

like this morning,

as I was leaving,

for the track,

i saw my wife in bed,

just the

shape of

her head there

(not forgetting

centuries of the living

and the dead and

the dying,

the pyramids,

Mozart dead

but his music still

there in the

room, weeds growing,

the earth turning,

the tote board waiting for

me)

I saw the shape of my

wife's head,

she so still,

I ached for her life,

just being there

under the

covers.

I kissed her in the

forehead,

got down the stairway,

got outside,

got into my marvelous

car,

fixed the seatbelt,

backed out the

drive.

feeling warm to

the fingertips,

down to my

foot on the gas

pedal,

I entered the world

once

more,

drove down the

hill

past the houses

full and empty

of

people,

I saw the mailman,

honked,

he waved

back

at me.