Because I don't know that special history, my feelings are more about the story of the two protagonists. A few selfish childhood lies can have such consequences, hurting a teenager who should have received an equal education and depriving him of the possibility of a happy life with his descendants. It also created an empty, self-deceiving, and unhappy middle-class white French who lived in great shame all his life, as well as the perfunctory, disjointed family of three and colleagues derived from him.
The theme of the film is still Haneke's specialty: violence. Sometimes it's verbal violence, sometimes it's physical/sexual violence, sometimes it can just be mental violence. It reminds me of the scars and symbols in my life that have left serious marks on my soul. Some are indeed outright physical violence, some are verbal, some are just indifferent, silent, watching from a distance, and some are completely ignored and absent. We underestimate violence in all its forms and the extent to which the mind is sickened by all kinds of trauma. A cruel society is of course impossible to be perfect, and various external and internal factors will rub the tender heart of a newborn to the point where it is riddled with holes. The question is how do we take care of ourselves and how do we deal with the strange hearts of this world.
The problem is that different life circumstances obviously make a huge difference in the force of violence on different hearts. Majid's life may have revolved around the experience of being forced to grow up in an orphanage as a child, and he has been brooding about it all his life. Of course, the discrimination he suffered is only the beginning, but the first time will always give people the deepest impression, and the "initial violence" is also , he was tortured by this all his life, and he might even chew it out when he shouldn't complain about this experience. Its terminal illness was sentenced at that time. However, the hero's heart seems to have completely lost the ability to suffer under the glamorous life of a scholar. Of course, this seems to be painless. In fact, this heart has entered a vegetative state because of the rough treatment of will or ideology, because it completely ignores The feeling of the heart turned it into a black and smelly hard rock, but it seemed to be alive, and it was still breathing deeply and shallowly pretending to be calm. In essence, the heart was "brain dead". How can someone who doesn't treat their own hearts or others' hearts feel happy? If it can't feel pain, it can't feel pleasure either, it's numb.
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