I was so tired
today that I can’t move and think in evening. So I didn’t practice at all and
just sit in front of the TV set. When I was doing my usual channel searching, I
found this film. It had already been shown in HK film festival a few years ago.
But I didn’t have time to watch.
‘Christmas in
August’ creates a mood rather then a story to me. It describes a very decent
romance between an ordinary young lady and a young man who are leaving the
world. There are few places of events, so that audience can easily be familiar
with the places and arouse a sense of belonging to the whole environment. There
are not many words between the lovers – and actually they lost their contact
with each other after the man got into hospital. The film reaches its peak when
the girl broke the photo shop’s window after waiting for the man after her work
day by day for long time. Without words, it shows the mixed feeling of love,
longing and blaming inside her. And further emphasis on the kind of endured
love between them is made by a short when the man was sleeping in the hospital
with a sweet smile on his face, wondering what kind of sweet dream is he
having, echoing the waiting girl.
After the man
went back home, he discovers a letter from the girl. He tries to reply, but
eventually gives up – for he’s going to leave, and it might be better to leave
her in his memory forever.
The moment that
would have driven my tears (I didn’t cry, because I’m quite detached from the semimetal
mood in this holiday.) was the moment after the man found the letter, read,
tried to reply, gave up, put the letter into the box placing all the photos he
took for the girl and other related stuffs, and tries to read his other old
album. This is too much a thing that I would do, especially when I was down, or
missing something that I know I’m going to miss it.
It concludes that
‘the feeling of love will diminishes, as the colour on photos, but you will be
staying in my memory, as perfect, forever.’ And to me, this is really not the
feeling of love, but the love itself.