Sitting in the chair in the auditorium, Marc Lacante continued to wriggle his body, the excitement and excitement revealed all over his body made him unable to calm down at all.
Katarina Koffler on the right had to slap Mark's arm hard, lowered her voice, and squeezed word by word between her teeth, "Mark, you should be quiet, otherwise, If it affects other audiences, we are going to be thrown out." The peculiar hard tones and pronunciation of German, which are suffocated between the lips and teeth, become more and more threatening.
Mark didn't realize it, and moved his seat again, his eyes brightly looking at Katarina, full of excitement, "Isn't it all amazing? We're about to watch a Renly-Hall movie, and We just met up with Renly Hall, and last night we had a face-to-face conversation with Renly Hall!"
In a few simple words, Katarina is also enthusiastic, but she still retains a little sense, "Yes, yes, I know. But a movie is a movie, and an actor is an actor. We still have to make an objective judgment on the movie. ." Recalling her irrational performance on the red carpet just now, Katarina's cheeks were slightly hot.
Fortunately, Mark and Katarina are not the only "exciters". In the entire theater, there is a humming of agitation and excitement, bred with powerful energy, and it seems that they may explode at any time. ; Gradually, the overhead lights began to dim, the commotion in the ears began to calm down at the same time, and the screening was about to begin.
Before Mark could calm down, a close-up of Renly's face appeared on the big screen—just a five-second producer title, no movie title, no cast list, or even any warning, and the movie cut in. theme.
The excitement in his chest surged up like a torrent, so excited that he almost stood up and screamed, but the next second, Mark's eyes were fixed on the big screen.
Messy and unruly hair, a scruffy face, ginger yellow lights falling down the drooping eyelashes, the light in his eyes is looming, his face is expressionless, he seems to be lost in contemplation, but the confusion and exhaustion between his brows But it swept away like smoke.
The entire shot was almost against Renly's face, and every detail on that cheek was magnified to the extreme, clearly visible. No language is needed, the performance has already begun, just a shot, the emotion spreads slowly.
The right hand holding the pencil, supporting the temple, slender fingers gently rubbing the tail of the eyebrows and the forehead, the projections of the fingertips, the tip of the pen, and the palm of the hand are mottled on the cheeks, which outlines the handsome and elegant face.
The eyelids are raised, the dark brown eyes are clearly visible, and the light in the pupils can even be seen flowing slowly, indifferent, alienated, and calm. "Don't let other people in," he said, his deep voice hoarse, but a hint of fatigue dragged down deeply, "I'm more inclined to let these people finish this thing now. Everyone spreads out. , can you? Don't crowd here. Thank you."
A voice next to me said, "We can also... let the others at the door leave."
"Lock the door," he replied, his eyes paused for a moment, as if he was staring at the door, a little dazed, his focus blurred a little, but he quickly recovered, "It's fine to lock. Thank you. ” Then, he lowered his eyes again, his eyes were frozen for a moment, he thought for a moment, then the focus moved down, and fell on his hands or knees again - in the close-up, only his cheeks were seen, everything else was seen. not.
One raised his eyes, one lowered his eyes, two lines, and one raised his hand. There is no superfluous expression, and there is even a suspicion of facial paralysis, but when his eyes are flowing, a touch of sadness penetrates the layer of indifference and calmness and seeps out. Then... the piano music begins to cut in, and the sad, cold, gentle, surging musical symbols are released.
Mark was stunned like this, his body still maintained a strange posture, but the restless and chaotic emotions calmed down quietly, and slowly sat back in the chair. The world behind the screen, built by Renly.
A chalk drawing appeared on the big screen, a big tree in the sky, and then all the leaves withered, turning into a book, and the leaves turned into a line of words on the page, "I have never felt so deeply, with Souls are so far apart, and my existence is so real - Albert Camus."
This is Europe, a Europe that is familiar with philosophy, loves literature, and is familiar with history. From elementary school to the end of university, philosophy courses are an indispensable part of them. Therefore, every audience present immediately understood the meaning of this sentence and the hidden background behind this sentence. The origin of the name of the film "Transcendence" has surfaced.
teacher.
At the beginning of the film, six teachers were interviewed in a documentary format to tell their stories of becoming teachers, and then the camera switched to Renly again. As if Renly was a real teacher too.
"Most of the teachers here used to believe that they can make a difference." Renly's expression was very calm, his eyes were very calm, the rhythm of his speech was a little slow, and he seemed to be organizing language, but the slow and distant voice However, a touch of heaviness was dragged in the air, and there was no need for extra decoration and embellishment. The weight of emotions and thoughts fell on the hearts of every audience.
"I know how important it is to guide and help others understand the complexities of the world." Renly paused for a moment, the focus began to drift away again, and he got caught up in his own thoughts, "When I was growing up, I never Really have those." He paused for a moment again, didn't say anything, just closed his jaw gently, the light in his eyes dimmed little by little.
Sad, bitter, confused, confused, sensitive. There seems to be no expression, but all the emotions are exhausted. That's how the movie started.
Just a beginning, Mark fell in love with this work.
This is a school that has fallen to the bottom of the valley. The grades have not improved, the students are gradually degenerating, the educators are beginning to shirk their responsibilities, and the atmosphere of corruption is spreading. It is like a ruin, with a pile of abandoned garbage collected. Hope, can't see the sun either.
Henry Barth, the protagonist of the story, came to this school as a temporary substitute teacher. Suiting and walking calmly, Henry walked into the classroom and started his first class.
"Good morning." Henry put the briefcase and coffee on the table, looked at the students who responded sparsely with greetings, the corner of his mouth raised slightly, but there was no smile, "I'm Mr. Bart. Many of you don't know, Is this the eleventh grade English class?" Henry stood in front of the podium and said calmly, "Listen, I only have one rule, just one."
"If you don't want to stay here, don't come." Henry's voice just fell, and a Latino-looking boy couldn't wait to say, "Dude, what do you mean?"
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"Not 'Dude,' but Mr. Bart," Henry corrected, then turned and wrote his last name on the blackboard, "The 'S' is silent."
The lad shouted, "You he/mom/is a bitch."
"Marcus, shut up!" shouted a chubby girl sitting at the back.
"No, you shut up!" Marcus turned around and scolded fiercely, "Damn it." Then the whole classroom burst into laughter.
Henry turned around and walked to Marcus' side, smiling, "Hey, Marcus, guess what? You can leave now."
Marcus showed a smug smile, "You mean now?"
"Yes, now." Henry moved the table directly, indicating the direction to the door.
Marcus and his friends high-fived to celebrate, stood up without hesitation, walked to the gate, looked at Henry who opened the gate, "Why, you want me to go to the principal's office?"
Henry closed the door directly and pushed Marcus out, "I don't care." Then he saw Marcus standing at the door of the classroom with a dazed expression. For unknown reasons, the classroom burst into laughter again. Henry walked back again, "Everyone took out a piece of paper, I want to see how everyone's writing skills are."
"What if there is no paper?" shouted a black guy in a hood.
Henry ignored it and continued, "The situation is as follows, you are dead. Briefly record..."
"Hey, bastard! I'm asking you a question!" The black guy was furious and interrupted Henry's words fiercely.
Henry ignored the guy at all, and continued, "What will your family or friends say about you at the funeral. How? You have thirty minutes."
Some students started to coax "dog/shit", some students started to laugh, and the black guy stood up like a zombie, looked fiercely towards the podium, confronted Henry, "I'm asking you a question. , isn't it?" Then he silently picked up Henry's briefcase and smashed it towards the door of the classroom with a mighty look.
Not only was Henry not angry, but he also twitched the corners of his mouth with a slight smile, "Is there anything else?"
"You bitch/bitch better get fucked before I slap you!" the black kid said savagely.
However, Henry didn't react violently, he just looked at the other side calmly and carefully scrutinized the young and young face, which made the black guy feel a little uncomfortable, and avoided his eyes before realizing it, which made Henry The smile on the corners of his mouth rose.
"That bag doesn't have any feeling, it's empty; I don't have any special feeling either, you can't hurt me, okay?" Henry's words were slow and slow, always smooth, with a hoarse graininess, It feels calming, "I know you're angry, and I used to be the same. I get it, but there's no reason for you to be mad at me, because I'm one of the few people trying to give you a chance. Now, I need you to sit down, Then do your best to finish the composition. I'll give you a piece of paper, how about that?"
The young man wriggled his mouth, but did not speak. Henry opened the folder, tore a piece of paper, and handed it over. The young man took it and his tone gradually calmed down, "Can you give me a pen from his/mother?"
Henry didn't speak, there was always that shallow smile on the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were calm.