I saw Morris a long time ago under the name Morris's Lover. My initial focus, like most, was on Mr. Hugh Grant, who certainly looked good in it. Young face, curly hair covering a little face, coupled with the film's initial energetic show of love. Certainly impressive. But I have to say, I still fell in love with Morris the first time I watched it. There are actually not many pictures that came out from a search of James Welby, one of the boxing ring, one of the double-image staring, and the one-year-old beckoning at the end of Morris. But I'm really obsessed with him, and I can't say exactly why.
Until a few days ago, on the 31st anniversary of Morris, the restored version of the film was re-screened at the London Film Festival. I passed by London and just happened to see it. The mood is really good, crossing the Thames, passing bookstores, coffee shops and bridge holes full of graffiti. I couldn't find the theater and asked about 100 people. When I went to the front desk to pick up the tickets, I was sweating, but the time will be better. The place was full, my seat was not good, but there were no seats further to the side. Elderly couples, gentlemen in suits, reporters with signs, queers with standing hair or pale pink, and the Chinese representatives who came for some reason were mostly pretty young girls like me.
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In the end, the lead actor also came. But to be honest, with my level of astigmatism, I can basically only see the outline.
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After the movie came out, there was actually a strange feeling, because the screenwriters were the same, so it felt a bit like please call me by your name. Then began the lengthy movie viewing, yes, I really think the movie is a bit long, of course, it may also be because I have watched it once.
I used to see two of Morris's emotions equally well. But not this time, just the first love, but the strange thing is that I don't even care about the second relationship. Because Morris was so beautiful, strong, sincere, brave, and blond. He lost and grew, grew and shaved. I'm really an afterthought, even the posters are confusing me, this movie has nothing to do with anyone except Morris. I want to be him when he's no longer enthusiastic about Cliff, when he's walking aimlessly on the hunting grounds, when he says no you can't ask again. I want to be a person who is as free and magnanimous as he is, not a blank sheet of paper, but pure and clean.
There were two scenes in the movie I watched that made people speechless, the boy in the striped pajamas and the Morris. But this time I don't feel sorry anymore. It doesn't matter who he beckons, he is relieved, what else can others say? All I know is that when he waved his hand, I would go with him even if it was a rock.
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