The same medium-length hair as Joe's, loss of eyes, and a slender body. She always walks in a hurry, bringing different men in and out. At that time I wanted to write an article to her.
Perhaps the most shocking thing in the whole movie is that most people think it is the irony at the end, and what I love the most is that Joe finally found the crooked neck tree of her soul after his life. When thinking of her as a little girl, his father said to him that the branches of the trunk are the soul of the tree, which will only be exposed in winter.
In that scene, Joe resolutely stood between the ugly tree trunks, as if it was a call from a god. She saw herself, an empty soul. I felt sorry for her, and it seemed that I could feel the bitterness in her heart. After the indulgence of youth, she finally ceased to be full of charm like spring and summer trees, but I didn't think it was worthless for her. Joe standing there seemed like a warrior.
I like Lars Von Trier’s movies, because from "Breaking the Waves" to "Dancer in the Dark" and the avant-garde "Dog Town", the women in his works are vivid, neurotic, and symbolized by him. In the shooting technique, those women seem to be in a world full of malicious intent. This is also the way of interpretation, making their performances like a shout, cruelly hitting my soul.
The four-hour "Female Addict" introduces a woman in great detail, from the girl's curiosity to later abuse of sex, encountering love and betrayal. She was obsessed with sex and indulged in her body. When she poured out all her encounters and yearned for salvation, the tenderness that fate gave her was fleeting.
After the last gunshot, I suddenly thought, does he really need salvation? Be proud of your vagina, what's wrong with being a "male maniac" all your life? We all have the right to choose our lives, and the lustful life is just a choice. Enjoying the beauty of sex is something that most of us women avoid, or even dare not imagine, and find it filthy.
But I never felt that it was really a life attitude worthy of contempt.
Here too, I have to mention N.
N was my neighbor ten years ago, when she was young and full of energy. Her mother and my mother are colleagues. It is said that she had gone to study abroad for a year, but she could not go on and returned to Shanghai, doing light errands at the place arranged by her mother. She is pretty, slender and weak, with long hair. You will smell the rich soap scent on her when you walk by. We often see her boyfriend come to her, who is much older than her, driving a Mercedes-Benz. Man.
One day in high school, I forgot to bring my keys. She saw me very warmly and invited me to her house for an afternoon. She has a habit of cleanliness, the house is spotless, white sheets, shiny floors and incense-smelting humidifiers, she has a taste of life at first glance. She asked about my studies and also talked about my ideals. It feels like the simplest girl next door.
After a few years, I often hear rumors about N. The aunt saw her pulling with a man on the side of the road several times, and she cried and begged the man not to leave. Later, she frequently took different men home. Mercedes-Benz men and BMW men also changed batch after batch. Her father came to see her, saw a luxury car in the community, and left silently. And her mother would never ask my mother about her current situation again.
My mother said that she did not even go back to celebrate the New Year, as if she had been banished by the family and left out. The hatred of her parents is not steel, and the gossip of the neighborhood makes her no longer look bright and cheerful.
She went home with different men, young and old, no longer concealed, and ten years also changed her from a 25 or 6-year-old woman to a mature woman who is running for four. That day, I heard my mother and the aunt upstairs talking about "the little girl next door to Allah", the aunt immediately interrupted and said, "What little girl, she is so skinny, her face is sallow! She is an old girl and hasn't married. "
Marriage off" is probably their most concerned issue, and it is the most important thing a married woman should do at this time. It seems that finding a husband and having children is a woman's success. People around you can say after a meal, I know a girl, "Don't marry too well..." The woman herself would be complacent about this. Just like the vase heroine attached to the actor in the movie, there is no essential meaning. In contrast, Joe, who is obsessed with his own genitals, seems to live a lot more real. N next door, living a deviant life, just like Joe, living his own life "indiscriminately" in the eyes of others.
A woman dares to boldly pursue what she wants most intuitively-a man's embrace, materiality, and sex. Rather than having sex with the most "appropriate" people for the sake of marriage, like other mundane people, she gives her vagina freedom, which I and other mundane people don't dare to do at all. "People say it's terrible", which makes me terrified.
N next door, in a sense, she is brave. She is the crooked neck tree in my heart. In the eyes of others, he is just a promiscuity woman who doesn't work and only hangs out with men. But who knows, she has to endure the secret chewing of the people around her and the exile of the family. She can choose to find a man who is right in the right place at the age of 30, marrying herself and embarking on what others think of as the "bright road". But she didn't. She chose to continue to go home with a different man. She lived for herself, lived for her own desires, and ignored this hostile world. Just like Joe, she might end up haggard and withered.
Because, just like in the movie, the world is unkind and will eventually lie down on the street covered in blood.
Even so, at least she had enjoyed it, burning dry wood. Most people have trimmed themselves into the most favorite shape in society before they burn.
When I met her in the elevator in high school, she always said a few words to me. When she met her a few weeks ago, she plugged in the earphones when she saw me and bowed her head silently. I didn't have the courage to say a word to her, did she escape the prejudice of normal people like us? In fact, she doesn't know, I admire her. Recalling her voice, soft and sharp, she did not expect that she was such a decisive and presumptuous person in her bones.
Sometimes, I can see the silhouette of her nest from the window of my room, and occasionally I have seen her embracing a man. I think that in the face of sex, we are all initially naked, as pure as the branches of stripped leaves, maybe only the pleasure of climax can make people selfless and detached. At that moment, the nerve endings are full of flowers, which is also the best experience. Although I am not as enthusiastic about sex as Joe, I love people like her. The same is true for N. When I saw her lowering her head and indifferently walking past those chatting aunts in the community, in the eyes of universal repulsion, I only saw her spit at those worldly eyes.
(This is probably not a film review, it's just for N who can't see these words)
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