I have been changing the style of these post-viewing notes lately. I no longer want to keep proving and investigating some supposed principle over and over; it is exhausting, and I need a rest. Here I simply want to note the interesting parts, keep things light, and avoid making the reader think too hard. If possible, I would like to be a little humorous. Compared with serious, meticulous arguments, humorous language is better at helping people relax.
This film had been on hold for a long time. It was still my first time watching it.
Before, I had put it off partly because I could not find a copy, and partly because the two “old ladies” on the poster were rather discouraging.
But once I started watching, I realized they were familiar faces after all: Peach Blossom from Ashes of Time, and Xiao Longnü!
The makeup is dramatically different, especially for Xiao Longnü. She originally looked like this:

But in this film, she looks like this:

That is not how you looked in Yang Guo’s arms:


Had there not been a close-up of her eyes and brows midway through the film, I would not have recognized her as Xiao Longnü.

When I watched The Return of the Condor Heroes in the past, I always thought Auntie’s eyes were especially profound. Seeing them here suddenly brought that back to me.
Beauty is dynamic. Compared with the two old ladies on the poster, his wife in the film is simply adorable.
Writing a long review takes a great deal of effort unless I truly have something to say. Right now, I do not.
So I will just note the parts worth rewatching and the bits I found interesting.

The complete exchange goes like this:
— “Hey, are you hungry? I’ll cook you a bowl of noodles.”
“How did you know I always hide under the table?”
“You hide under the table every time. How could I not know? Please use your brain a little. Find a few new places to hide, so I can have some novelty for once, all right?”
“But if I do not hide under the table, I am afraid you will not be able to find me.”
“Ah! Ah! I cannot stand you. Please do not be like this. I am begging you, wife. Do not be like this. Thank you, thank you, thank you…
Hey! I am only flesh and blood. You scold me like this every time. I do not know when I will finally be unable to bear it anymore.”
“If you cannot bear it, then leave.”
“I am going to take a bath.”
“I told you to leave!”
“Hey, are you hungry? I’ll cook you a bowl of noodles.”
This kind of cliché can be moving sometimes. It makes me feel that the people in the film are as cliché as I am—or rather, that they feel real.
Their relationship is worth revisiting.
Another part is the intercut sequence between the Emperor being attacked while traveling and the two of them going out together: knocking on watermelons, tearing chicken, squeezing eggs. It creates a comic atmosphere, but it also seems to carry a deeper metaphor. Hong Kong films are always full of faint, half-seen metaphors. You can interpret them, or you can ignore them. Whether they are truly there does not seem important to the plot, but it somehow feels important to me.
I am being cryptic because I do not want to spend the energy working it all out. I need to recuperate for a while. The parts worth revisiting should go on the Time Machine watchlist instead.
Screenshots for the Pervert

Under this filter, she has a little of Wang Zuxian’s Nie Xiaoqian about her. In the same setting, the lighting is drastically different between two shots, yet it does not make me uncomfortable. Instead, it creates a sense of opposing forces. Few directors today would dare use lighting this way. Here is the same setting:



Composition. I pulled out my phone to take a picture in an instant, but it did not focus. Or rather, because my photography skills are poor, most of these did not focus properly.
And because of my “image host,” I had to compress them once more. I expect every picture now has a slightly mosaic-like quality.




