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Sou extremamente apaixonada pelo primeiro minuto do filme O Pintassilgo. (The Goldfinch)
Donna Tartt já fez um trabalho maravilhoso com o livro e ver a sua obra em filme é emocionante.
Em apenas um minuto temos toda a introdução. Gosto de ver como é bem representado esse clima desesperado do Theo e as palavras que ele diz, tão parecidas e carregadas de emoção, da mesma forma que estão no livro. Não tem como passar despercebido o foco de que tudo gira em torno da mãe dele e a pintura, ver com poucas imagens tudo o que perder ambas as figuras causa a ele. Sua vida antes já era vazia e sem sentido, perder a mãe foi a maior tragédia na vida do personagem e isso acarretou em diversos erros e desgraças. Perder então a pintura também é o ponto alto para que nem sua vida valha mais apena. Acho simplesmente fascinante e lindo o quão bem o filme nos mostra isso. Temos apenas um minuto de cena, que está carregado de significado e sentimentos com imagens de arrepiar qualquer pessoa!
Isaiah ‘twas foretold it, The Rose I have in mind; With Mary we behold it, The virgin mother kind; To show God’s love aright, She bore to men a Savior, When half spent was the night.
Theodore Baker (trans.), Lo, How A Rose E’er Blooming
Lo, how a rose e’er blooming, From tender stem hath sprung; Of Jesse’s lineage coming, As men of old have sung; It came, a flow’ret bright, Amid the cold of winter, When half spent was the night.
Theodore Baker (trans.), Lo, How A Rose E’er Blooming
Isaiah ‘twas foretold it, The Rose I have in mind; With Mary we behold it, The virgin mother kind; To show God’s love aright, She bore to men a Savior, When half spent was the night.
Theodore Baker (trans.), Lo, How A Rose E’er Blooming
Lo, how a rose e’er blooming, From tender stem hath sprung; Of Jesse’s lineage coming, As men of old have sung; It came, a flow’ret bright, Amid the cold of winter, When half spent was the night.
Theodore Baker (trans.), Lo, How A Rose E’er Blooming
O Flower, whose fragrance tender With sweetness fills the air, Dispel with glorious splendour The darkness everywhere; From Sin and death now save us, And share our every load.
Theodore Baker (trans.), Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming
Isaiah 'twas foretold it, The Rose I have in mind, With Mary we behold it, The virgin mother kind; To show God's love aright, She bore to men a Savior, When half spent was the night.
Theodore Baker (trans.), Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming