The middle details are reluctant to describe, let alone recall any details.
I cried, uncontrollably, not when Sylvia was being abused, but when she finally returned to her parents and lifted her clothes to show her mother the burnt words on her stomach. Tears finally fell. And the director told me at this time that it turned out that it was all fake and that she was dead.
Humans are cowardly animals. Faced with these, there are so many things that can be done, so simple, but we have not done them. The characters in the play seem so ordinary, so ordinary. I can't believe it's a true story, but it also gives me chills just because it's true. Not only for that mother, but for the indifference and timidity of people.
When the lawyer asked Jenny why she didn't call the police, why didn't she resist, or even tell any passers-by, she said, i'm too scared... i thought it would be fine if i just follow what i was told. But no, not like that .
I always feel that the director will play religious jokes on us again, every Sunday church, confession, Sylvia devoutly believes that everything will be alright, but in the end all that awaits her is death. I started to disbelieve in the so-called karma, and I began to doubt my beliefs that everything would be ok. I have no idea.
In the movie, everyone is a tragedy, a mother tortured by poverty and fate, children who grew up in such an environment, early pregnancy, violence, indifference, and the borrowed jenny, her cowardice. She was just crying when Sylvia helped her block her first beating. And their own parents, reckless, just to solve their own problems, so far.
In the end, Sylvia says, at least, people start talking about the things they usually ignore.
Maybe there are too many things we ignore, too many things we don't see on weekdays.
The language is too pale for what the film is trying to convey.
"At every situation, god always has his plan. I guess i'm still searching around to find out what my plan was." -- Sylvia
the end
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