The story appears simple on the surface, but is revealed, especially after multiple viewings, as more multi-layered and textured than Cassavetes at his best. Ostensibly it concerns a 14-year old Catholic girl, Wynne (Agutter) growing up in this post-modern wasteland, who develops a crush on her much older adoptive brother (Marshall)- a crush which perversely deepens and grows into infatuation once she starts to believe he is the local sex killer. This is in itself an idea that makes you sit up and jolt, but as the narrative develops, it continues not necessarily along a linear path but in several confusing and fascinating directions: the family's history, (detailed effectively in chilling flashback during an improvised seance) is a chequered one, and has suffered at least one major relocation and upheaval in the last ten years. At the crux, however, it's the depiction of socialal changes that make I Start Counting so fascinating and elevate its language far beyond the confines of the standard horror film. The major subtext- that teenage girls were maturing more quickly than before, and developing full sexual and romantic appetites (even if in thought rather than deed) but were not possessed of enough discretion to make the right choices- was a step forward for a genre in which its young females had previously been portrayed as bimbo victims (Cover Girl Killer and The Night Caller spring to mind), but not one that all viewers would necessarily agree with. But most striking of all, and possibly the most enduring image which the viewer will take away with them, is of the masterful symbolism with which director Greene invests every shot. Every inch of the Kinch family's world- their house, their walls, their TV, Agutters underwear, bedroom furniture and toys, Sutcliffe's clothes, Marshalls van, the local Catholic church, their town centre, their record shop) - is painted a bright, scintillating white- a white which, by inference, is slowly becoming smudged and corrupted with the dirt of the outside world. White also symbolises, of course, purity and innocence (two qualities Catholic schoolgirls are supposed to hold dear), and it is into this world of innocence that the ever-present red bus (a symbol of violation and penetration), conducted by the lecherous yet similarly juvenile Simon Ward, makes regular journeys. The allegory is further expanded in one scene where Agutter believes she sees the Christ figure in church weeping blood: by the time we acknowledge it, its gone, but the seed has already been planted. Rarely in a genre production has the use of colour and background been so important or effective in creating a uniformity of mood. I Start Counting is as near-perfect an end to a decade as one could hope for, and exactly the kind of film people should be making now- which is, of course, exactly why they never will. A genre essential. by D.R.
服化道场景始终没有摆脱网剧的塑料感，
编剧，电影人，文创人，夹的那点儿私货，不能细想，一想即泪流满面
看得时候感觉似乎像是在看日本或香港的老电影
如果大家一直对国产电影这么宽容的话，国产电影永远出不了精品。作为一个主打强情节的电影，剧作水平完全不达标，角色塑造支离破碎。除了台词一次次提到上海滩，大部分角色一张嘴都让人觉得在听德云社相声。余皑磊出场几分钟碾压所有人。在推理过程中还一直有水词，令人无语。只能说是一个还可以的作品，不能再多。
与无法触及人心的自我感动式讽刺说教。
《柯南》的密室案件+《驴得水》的社会讽喻+《唐人街探案》的结局反转。啥元素都有，做得也算扎实。这种片子越多，我们的类型片才能发展得越好。支持。
好美好温柔，街景和人都好温柔，从后半段开始就几乎是哭着看完，原声出来的时候，四人抱在一起跳舞的时候，Matthias表白和Talulah流着泪离开的时候…好久看电影都没有这样的感受了
那些像羔羊一样绵软温柔的人，恪守着一些内向者的固执
看完在脑子里捋了一下，感觉没有特别大逻辑上的硬伤，每个人的表演都很有张力 ，因为场地的原因还带点舞台剧跟综艺的质感，实验性比较强，但真的看得出来是很有诚意很用心的作品；比较大的不足可能是转场跟很多情节的推动上有点生硬跟刻意，不是很自然
与无法触及人心的自我感动式讽刺说教。
很平淡很缓慢，但是很浪漫很美好。“我一开始想象的生活并不是这样的，但我们还是尽力去热爱它了，对吗？”
电子乐，夜间电台和香烟。80年代私人影像史。Boyhood的double feature.
看了一部101.7+this is us，音乐和女主好温柔啊
情节在爱意下流动。故事总发生在入夜的巴黎，落地窗外的街景在暗蓝色天幕下躲闪，她朦胧地晃着酒杯，在无数夜与日交际的静谧中，独享天际终于泛白的失眠与孤独。追溯中有梦袭来，梦被想方设法地延长，只因为存在于内的温暖是永存的。回忆像被打乱顺序的胶卷不断向眼前涌现。在舒缓的节奏里，碎片式的剪辑无声低吟那段属于电影的年代，那段比此刻遥远的电影荧幕更远的上世纪八十年代。
电影只转换了三个主要场景，有人说像黑泽明的生之欲，有人说更像西德尼.吕美特的东方快车谋杀案，不管怎么说，圆桌试的影片叙述方式总是层层推进，扣人心弦，最后的反转给了观众欣慰的理由，美丽的女孩是希望和美好的象征，而秦霄贤的警察是被枪杀的正义。
喜欢很多场景 每次看到电影中出现摩托车载人的画面都会联想到自由和美好 感觉应该再重看侯麦的电影了
现在看到这种片子想的竟然是“这么多暗喻和讽刺居然能过审”。是我不对劲还是这个时代不对劲了？
就着网页每20分钟崩溃一次的频率看完。一个动人的故事，淡淡的愁绪，快乐和悲伤。妈妈的声音很温柔。要是时代和社会可以给人们多创造一些保护网就好了
巴黎现代公寓里小家的十年。档案视频穿插得很妙，没有那种这类视频出现在叙事片里时惯见的生硬感，也不曾强说些什么。轻盈，看完走路都有点飘飘然了。
温柔的夜色，想起朴树的“路过人们的寒冷和孤独”。但一些伤痛都会被抚平，也会有什么美好永远留了下来
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