The story begins.
The road that appeared in the eyes was straight and disappeared into the horizon a few kilometers away. There are two symmetrical trees on either side of the road, and he circles his eyes with his fingers, which Mike says is a depressed face. Trapped on the Idaho Highway, the hares turned and left. Surrounded by dry Miscanthus and hot steam, a memory kept chasing him in his mind. He could not grasp the illusory house until it collapsed and was damaged.
It's actually quite simple: Mike is on his way to find his mother and home. He suffers from narcolepsy and falls unconscious when stressed. He has a beautiful and chaotic face. Scott, a fellow prostitute friend, would drag him to safety when he fell asleep and wait for him when he woke up. Mike fell in love with Scott for almost four years. But for Scott, living at the bottom of the city is a wake-up call, a solo show against the mayor's father. He likes Mike, hugs after hearing the confession, can accompany Mike to Idaho to find his family, and even run all the way to Rome. But after falling in love with an Italian woman, she never looked back.
My own private Idaho is known as a classic gay movie. I only see it as a one-sided, incomplete love. It was unexpected and completely different from what was expected. The first time I read it, I didn't like it. I don't like Scott and I don't like Mike, and I hate dialogue that's carried over from Shakespeare's Henry IV. Just because it has bright colors, but it is not warm. Filled with neat mockery. It is like a dream from beginning to end, and it refuses to show any more pity and innocence.
Director Gus Van Sant's ambition, River Phoenix's passionate yet subtle performance, and Shakespeare's shadow—bright and broken, a path chased by memory and never to safety. So it finally recalled and watched it for the second time, revealing strange tentacles that eroded the viewer's heart.
Campfire's confession, who can forget this scene. River Phoenix gave, such a straightforward love, but so quiet. Mike's confession is self, he knows where Scott came from and where he will end up. But he was going to tell him, "I love you," that I loved you before I fell asleep, before we parted. True love, whether you want to have sex with me or not, no matter how small.
Then I finally fell in love with River Phoenix's face. Wearing black clothes, with neatly combed hair, there is no chaotic face to see, but it is the most unbearable face. Above the cemetery, they heard each other's voices, the priest's eulogy on one side, and the singing of male prostitutes and thieves on the other, dust, branches, and sunshine, all the noise seemed to be there, and they sat not far from each other. write. Also from that moment on, Mike embarked on a never-ending journey home again by himself.
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