"Frank" has been lying on my "want to see" list of movies, posters and stills will float in my eyes every once in a while, and the plot synopsis has been read over and over again. In my original idea, Frank should be a high-ranking musical genius, saying a few philosophical words that reveal life and human nature from time to time, confuse the people around him, and then turn around and leave calmly. The tone of the film should also be flat, alienating, and sleepy.
But how can it be so funny? ! I almost finished the first two-thirds of the movie with a smile on my face, and until Dan hanged himself, I thought my expectations for the movie had gone horribly wrong. Where was the depression? This is clearly a fairy tale. So much so that, in retrospect, Frank chanted that number as if he were chanting a spell, and the plot took a turn for the worse. The mysterious and even sublime Frank turned out to be nothing more than a social phobia desperate for recognition and affection.
I watched as Frank grabbed the reporter's microphone incoherently, and stood on the stage with heavy makeup and bewilderment. His helmet was no longer a protective umbrella from outside prying eyes. At that moment, I actually didn't want to cry, I just felt very sad because I had also tried so hard to "perform" in public or private situations to please and cater to others. Once on stage, it is a betrayal of self.
If the story came to an abrupt end after Frank was hit by a car and his helmet broke, I would have to give five stars for this cruelty and determination, but the director was merciful after all, and Frank who took off his helmet was able to return to the people who loved him , sing "I love you all".
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