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Samuel L. Jackson,
In present day Montreal, a famous Nicolo Bussotti violin, known as "the red violin," is being auctioned off. During the auction, we flash back to the creation of the violin in 17th century Italy, and follow the violin as it makes its way through an 18th century Austrian monastery, a violinist in 19th century Oxford, China during the Cultural Revolution, and back to Montreal, where a collector tries to establish the identity and the secrets of "the red violin." Written by
Sean Gallagher <firstname.lastname@example.org>
The Red Violin is the saga of spirit and soul as they press onward through time. The adventure begins with Anna, a young woman whose only child brings about her untimely death. A gift of a violin to be given to the babe becomes host to Anna's spirit. The Red Violin narrowly escapes the grips of greed, ignorance, and vengeful lust as she is passed from hand to hand of those who would have her. She wanders about the globe until at last she is exonerated by the one man who knows the truth that she holds within her wooden belly.
In spite of the death and despair, the film is truly positive. It teaches us to appreciate people from all walks of life. From the violin maker of the 16th century who made the Red Violin for the bittersweet arrival of his baby son, we travel through time with the violin to the Chinese Communist Party who spelled out certain death to any instrument that may threaten the ideals of the collective. In our travels, we learn the dark and sordid side to each person, but we also learn that to create a shadow there must be light. That light, or hope, that the people shed is what gives the violin her vitality and will to survive.
A truly magnificent film, The Red Violin inspired me to recollect my own past I shared with my aged upright piano; the certain spiritual vibrations I felt while playing a ragtime melody. Suddenly, memories came rushing back to me tenfold. I recalled the times as a young girl I would listen as my father played his rendition of Scott Joplin's Maple Leaf Rag. Wiping a tear from my eye, I remembered how long ago that truly was; how my piano shaped and molded me, as I shaped and molded it. I am left wondering where my beloved piano is now. Who is influencing his instrumental life? In the end, what stories will he have to tell, and will they be of me
Take the journey of the Red Violin. Visit other lands and other times. Feel the strings of life against your fingers; the bow of spirit in your palm. Rest your chin against the weathered wood of wisdom. Listen closely and hear the music that is the gentle rhythm of time and change. See the film to learn about music; to learn about history; to learn the boundless raptures of the spirit. Perhaps, as I, you will learn just a little more about yourself.
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