<https://s.mj.run/f2su2mqU6KA> Film Still, In the café of the port, where the sailors' tales and the farce of the sea wind both found a home, he, the sly sailor, appeared with his cap pushed aside, as if he were in the middle of the wind's playful joke. The features of his face were as if the sea itself had twisted them a little, and now they could look straight only to those who had drunk too much of the charming drinks of the seaside taverns. Small codes of sailor language flashed behind his eyes, as if he was always thinking of some cunning plan, but in fact he was just admiring the nearest coastal beauty, as if he didn't even notice that the brim of his cap had moved half an inch to the right. Every movement, every sighing step sprinkled a small drop of salt in the ocean of the farce of life, among the waves of which everyone could feel as if they were walking in a Jenő Rejtő novel. vintage monochrome movie style, cinematic lighting  --ar 3:4