The diaphragm has instead become the key channel for the lonely soul to integrate into the outside world. Such absurd paradox is not surprising in this sensory world full of vanity worship and hallucinatory stimulation.
For Frank, the headgear is not an escape, a cover and hiding, or a mask of disguise, it is the space he seeks for truly free expression, the way he gets along with the band that accompanies him. On the contrary, in reality, those who are obsessed with decorating their appearance and distorting their flesh and blood have denied the possibility of being truly accepted and loved. The loneliness of these superficial people seems tragic to me, and at the same time I can't help laughing at their stupidity.
With a hood, Frank expresses himself through his music. I sit in silence, imagining that my body is completely empty, and the silence around me is emanating from my mind in its invisible way, so that I can communicate with the world unimpeded. The void, the silence, the suffocating loneliness that may appear to others, the obstacle. But through it, I accepted myself. What I hope most is that someone can feel my love in my silence.
The most moving part of the film is that Frank, who lost his hood, finally reunites with his band and returns, and what connects them is not the music on the surface, but the tacit understanding between the notes. They are truly in love. With this tacit love and happiness, the headgear is not important.
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