After watching the movie, there was a half-year interval, but fortunately, the continuous playback can be completely seamless. It was as if I, as a transparent bystander, followed Louis to his house as a guest, waiting for him to find the right moment to tell the news that he was actually suffering from a terminal illness and would die soon.
As an outsider, it was a sweltering summer.
No one introduced me to his family, and no one introduced me to his family, so I could only sketch each of them little by little from their trivial conversations.
In this family, I, as a friend of Louis, and another member of the family, the wife of my brother Anthony, are also cramped as "outsiders." We avoid quarrels and try our best to act as peacemakers. But the sultry heat that day made everyone agitated. I carefully listened to their conversations, like a frightened rabbit. I remembered that many times I was at home and felt the subtle changes in my family's emotions. Every change affects your nerves, because maybe in the next second, there will be a scene. Intense quarrels, speaking the most straightforward words, and saying many things that only family members know and say, will defeat you one by one. "I really want to leave" or "It's good to have no home" gets caught up in such murmurs, missing the trivial chatter and blocking out the annoying squabbles. When I turned around, I realized that I wasn't alone, Louis, whose blue eyes had long since lost sight of melancholy. Everyone has their own concerns, eager to express, eager to understand. But found that too full of emotions, no one can bear.
Louis hesitated. He was overwhelmed by the emotions of his family. There was no more room in the sultry air, so he endured it. Only in the face of Anthony's wife, he can easily say a few words, at the most inadvertent and most appropriate time in the whole film, he even told her that his purpose of returning home was ruthlessly interrupted. . No one can bear more emotions. All this is too full, and the people who are overwhelmed can't breathe. This is home.
Driving out for a drive with my brother Anthony, which sounded like a temporary escape from it all, I sat in the back seat of the car and witnessed yet another outburst of emotion. Embarrassed, hesitant, courageous, embarrassed. Complaining about your leaving, ironing the cause you love, so straightforward, so naked, exposing all your pride and solace in loneliness to the sun and stinks. You finally smoked alone in the yard, and you couldn't stop crying. It was the last straw that broke the camel's back when I learned that your lover was also terminally ill and left before you. There is no understanding that you expect, because everyone longs for understanding, no hugs, because everyone longs for hugs. The desperation surged and overflowed the screen.
Home, family, what are these? Whether it is an obligation relationship that must be performed under a secular contract. Sometimes you feel real warmth and shelter; sometimes you also feel the deepest loneliness and helplessness. I don't think a relationship is perfect, not to mention the so-called "contract" that you want to get something, you have to exchange for something equivalent. The love of a loved one is not as free as the world says. I think everyone should be an independent person in order to learn to love and be loved correctly. Believe in love, but also understand evil and pain.
At the end of the skin, Gaspard Ulliel is so handsome, as if his naturally melancholy eyes, combined with the large aperture close-up of the whole film, fell into a trap. And the cast is really luxurious.
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