The whole film has been able to bring people into the rhythm of excitement. Even though his tone is sometimes depressed and sometimes dull. But you can always feel the excitement of the body itself. This may be the director's grasp of the editing of the music screen.
My feeling is that the pipe is high in the iron room. Throw a firecracker in it. Even if you play rock and jazz for a while or folk songs, your body must follow high. Then the occasional music came to an abrupt end and the plot took a turn for the worse. Frequent flashing and editing. Sudden silence. Then everything became natural. Suddenly warm and quiet when furious. Sudden fear and trembling when fragile and helpless. Then reality and imagination are mixed with all kinds of medicines to produce unimaginable chemical reactions.
My scum English can barely understand. The detective played by Mike Voi has an insurmountable knot. I have experienced huge trauma in my life. So much so that now living a psychedelic and debauchery life. He framed his colleagues, threatened underage girls, and became the best friend's wife. At that time, he was still stepping to confirm that he had this good friend. Unsatisfied sexual desire, the wife who left him, the rotten villain who often appeared. Even if he wears a stiff pen, his life is rotten to the extreme. It was such a police detective who caught the murderer in the underpass while half drunk and half awake.
To say that the main storyline at this time is not as good as saying that mother and child are the main story, and quiet becomes the ingredient of all this. A lost and corrupt detective. In the eyes of all the worldly people, when a normal person treats a person with a heart attack on the street indifferently, he will rush to rescue and exude a real care. This is the truth and goodness hidden in the absurd world. As for everything he did, we were relieved of his exile.
Among them, McAvoy called his best friend's lewd wife with a phone in one hand, and looked at the ex-wife in the picture while masturbating with one hand. Then he collapsed, and his squeezed soul had nowhere to vent. He was in tears but forced to force himself to say DO U WANNA TO WATCH MY COCK to the phone.
The author is like this. He writes about this crazy world but never forgets the discussion of right and wrong. We are in chaos and don't give up a trace of inner clarity. And this work will undoubtedly surpass his previous work Guessing the Train.
View more about Filth reviews
