I searched for Jason’s movies before, and whenever I see this one recommended, the following comments have an emmmm weird atmosphere. Take a decadent Friday to watch this movie, no matter from the high altitude crash to the change of heart and then chev Running around, the edited soundtrack is full of drama.
Sex is a theme that is carried through from beginning to end. Women’s breasts and thighs are everywhere, but they are rare. I don’t feel embarrassed or embarrassed by these piles of sex that seem to overflow the screen. They are carried through in the play of abuse. , In the worst way to convey to the audience. In the racecourse section, they galloped on the track in broad daylight under the eyes of everyone, accompanied by horses in the distance running wildly, ups and downs, everyone cheered and shouted. The most vulgar fragments abruptly let people see a kind of epic grandeur.
Chev has a childhood interlude in the film. The young man is extraordinary (...) flying over the wall, and in TV interviews, he keeps pointing his middle finger at the audience. As if his heart had been stolen, he went around the city to rob the car and kill people. In the end, he was covered with flames, yelling at the camera than his middle finger. Chev was full of irritability from the beginning of his appearance. He didn't have much time and died immediately. It's like the clips of seeing a psychologist interspersed in the movie-if you only have one day left in your life, how do you live.
Chev never thought about how he should live, he thought about how to live. There are no moral constraints in the movie. We are familiar with the rules and regulations in the world. They are the daydreams explained by the host in the opening of the film. We fall asleep from the dream, and Chev, who is full of fire, wakes up from anesthesia.
He took a knife and a gun in the hottest sunlight in the day, and ran on the hard asphalt road. When he couldn't run, he looked for someone to charge the transformer, and then ran.
If it were my dream, in a chaotic world, all moral and right and wrong condemnations were melted into the subconscious, there could be such a violent person, no one can catch him, no one can beat him, the general public's restraint I can't restrain him, people say it's terrible and don't care, rushing, and passing by the same long street as me.
That should be an extremely reassuring dream.
His fucking place makes me feel nothing wrong with this fucking world, he uses fucking to fight the broken world.
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