For the most part, the dialogue and plot in the film are self-consistent, and a lot of detail goes into creating a suspenseful and confusing story atmosphere. I started from the Berlin airport, and I was only attracted by this unknown exotic story at first, but when the heroine woke up and found that her daughter was missing, and then before and after boarding, all existence and past were denied as a trance. Arrangements are hard and exciting.
A very intriguing point is that when the double negation of community and psychology has become the premise of the relationship between people, can we still convince others that we are mentally sound, and whether we ourselves still believe that we are not talking nonsense and whimsical. It is like a normal person who is mistakenly arrested into a mental hospital. I am afraid that only silence and obedience are the secrets to being re-affirmed as normal. But when I remain silent and abide only to serve the ghosts of others, with no solidarity and no hope, should we let our own defense line be at the mercy of the outside world? This closed cabin space has become the best laboratory to restore a self-affirmation and grasp.
Another wonderful thing is the performance of half bystanders who have nothing to do with the event. Sociology tells us that conformity is the most wonderful and cruel choice, so when the mother frantically shuttles through the cabin, when the mother randomly identifies the passengers on the plane as suspects, when the mother randomly prys open the passage to create chaos on the plane to sneak into the cargo hold, Instead of being on her side, I fell into the paranoia of the community and attacked and yearned to overwhelm the bigotry that the mother held on to on the other side. Therefore, hearing the applause for finally catching the mentally ill person to ensure the safety of the plane, there is a little bit of cold pride in addition to comfort, and when the storyline took a sharp turn, the last piece of deliberate praise from the passengers mentioned that "She never gave up," I felt like I was shot, and I felt ashamed that I couldn't help myself, but it felt like a setback from a wrong bet. After all, I am an outsider, and I am full of worldly praise and sum up to round up the field, or express my apology with a sigh, but I am willing to choose silence.
Because I know paranoia will never leave us, it will be in every story with a group of people. So I'd rather keep it quietly, without commenting.
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