Introduction: A mysterious woman named Grace (Nicole Kidman) broke into a closed and conservative American town. She is beautiful and kind and is running away from the gangsters. Tom, a writer in the town, urged the villagers to keep the woman and let her temporarily escape the difficulties in the town. However, the condition is that Grace has to do all kinds of farm work to repay. People agreed, only to find out soon after that Grace was a wanted fugitive. Everyone wanted to drive Grace away, and finally agreed that if she worked harder, she could stay here. Grace worked day and night, but she could not escape unfortunate events. A townsman raped Grace after a police raid. Dirty things kicked off: people began to insult her at will, even Tom revealed the mask of kindness, and Grace became a dog in the town, working and suffering, and her kind heart gradually grew. Change. No one in the town could have imagined that this woman's mysterious life experience would make the humiliation at this moment a disaster in the future. It's a dark, filthy place, a place that even God hates. Once you cross the threshold of this gigantic ravine, you won't get to the bottom for a whole year, because the violent storm will blow you east and west, without giving you a moment to breathe... Hesiod In "Theogony", this is how hell is described. Fate is like that, neither sooner nor later, no more or no less. If fate knew that her name was often mentioned in this way, it would definitely be unhappy. After all, she was just looking at all beings from a height, laughing and cursing. Just watch, never interfere. Grace's previous life was full of happiness, secrets and lies. One day in a certain month of a certain year, it was cold, gray, and snowing, and she had just passed through a hellish period of hunger. The above description of another world, she has also heard people talk about it, read chapters, but never thought that she would be one of them. The last bell rang, and she started in a seemingly gentle place, with regular households, scattered plants and trees, and ceramic dolls that few people care about in the window.... Ruining kindness. Presumably, while accepting the parallel world, the director is also practicing the hierarchy theory of Nutshell Space. Every time a layer is peeled off, there is always a new desolation. The villagers work tirelessly to acquire the rare things in Grace that they have lost too early, beauty, youth, kindness, hard work... Attempting to bleed a living, tender and juicy creature to death. Being raped at Chuck's house is a climax. Getting raped by a driver in a truck is also a climax. But then I don't know who was raped, it made people swallow dry, like impotence or premature ejaculation, people still have sex interest, but have to sigh heavily. I don't know if there is pleasure in being raped or something. However, Grace's inertia was violated, not to try to rely on it. On the contrary, after being stained by the filthy white liquid, she was stripped naked from even her existence. This helpless trembling resonated with the heartbeat on the palm-sized stage. The houses in Dogtown have no walls, so that each insult happens, develops, and ends in the sight of the villagers and spectators. This tear to the retina goes far beyond the pain of tearing another membrane. And this kind of open-ended stage play also turned the seemingly intoxicated reality back to the vulgar, gloomy, and even "just like that" prototype. Chapter 9, most people can't read it patiently. But once you hear the familiar voice of Cadillac 355C and understand the disputes and conversations in the car, you will understand that you have no patience to wait for a result, and then you will experience the pleasure of watching the movie physically and mentally. Grace burned the whole village, killing everyone. Except for the dog, the beast with whom she had shared bones. In the introduction, it is said that she has become a dog, and she never agrees. Compared with the villagers in Dog Town, she is more like a master giving alms and bones, and more suitable for playing the role of a preacher, of course, not the kind of the sanctimonious Tom. Even with a bell around his neck and shackles under his feet. She is still the cleanest girl. Even shooting the old and the weak and cursing the fucking world. Nor is she a random flower, otherwise, she wouldn't pull the trigger after saying, "Goodbye, Tom." ps: I believe, Tom loves her, but his cowardice and hypocrisy are more than his love for Grace. Again, there is still a lot of space between love and not love. Many times, people are wandering here, in their own pride, selfishness, unwilling to step back, unwilling to move forward, and never leave. I always feel that the other party deserves everything, but I am not willing to love the generosity. It's not that I don't love, it's just not loving enough. Like delicate roses, they don't notice that the little flowers in the corners are blooming hard, just like people often ignore each other's existence. Writing late because I'm fine. Then, pull the trigger. ps: I believe, Tom loves her, but his cowardice and hypocrisy are more than his love for Grace. Again, there is still a lot of space between love and not love. Many times, people are wandering here, in their own pride, selfishness, unwilling to step back, unwilling to move forward, and never leave. I always feel that the other party deserves everything, but I am not willing to love the generosity. It's not that I don't love, it's just not loving enough. Like delicate roses, they don't notice that the little flowers in the corners are blooming hard, just like people often ignore each other's existence. Writing late because I'm fine. Then, pull the trigger. ps: I believe, Tom loves her, but his cowardice and hypocrisy are more than his love for Grace. Again, there is still a lot of space between love and not love. Many times, people are wandering here, in their own pride, selfishness, unwilling to step back, unwilling to move forward, and never leave. I always feel that the other party deserves everything, but I am not willing to love the generosity. It's not that I don't love, it's just not loving enough. Like delicate roses, they don't notice that the little flowers in the corners are blooming hard, just like people often ignore each other's existence. Writing late because I'm fine.
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