Salute to PaoloSorrentino
“I'm wondering what happened to our memory over time. I can't remember my family, I don't remember their faces or how they talk. Last night, I was watching Lina when she was sleeping and I was thinking about all the thousands of little things I have done for her as a father. And I done them deliberately so that she would remember them when she grows up. But in time, she won't remember a single thing."
"This is what you see when you are young. Everything seems really close. That's the future. And now(turn the telescope around) that's what you see when you were old. Everything seems really far away. That's the past."
I read these two dialogues backwards and forwards many times, maybe because of the deterioration of English listening ability, maybe because the translation does not have the original flavor, maybe I just sighed that Paolo Sorrentino's skill is not only about the soundtrack, For the composition of the shot, it is even more on top of the subtle lines. From the great beauty to youth, to the young pope. Different systems, different stories, different characters, different dialogues. And what he wanted to say, or what I saw, was all about childhood, about death.
People never change, since your childhood. The happiness, joy, pain, fear, anger you got from your childhood never left you. The love and hate you get from your family of origin will beat your heart every day and every moment in the future. One day, you find that you have done something incredible and think you are crazy. In fact, it's just that the child who lives in your heart used a little more force, knocked out the heart, sneaked out, and did what he wanted to do but couldn't do because he was trapped in an adult's little heart. The young Pope mentioned the bishop molesting boys. The "big villain" was finally brought to the Pope, and he cried when he was abused and sexually assaulted by the landlord when he was young. Although there is no shortage of cunning in delusional light treatment, it can be seen that he is only exacerbating everything he suffered in childhood on others. So pedophilia is pathetic and hateful. Most domestic violence or school violence can also find such cause and effect from the original family, which is equally sad and hateful. And the pope in the play is not pitiful, the real saint has been trapped in the shadow of being abandoned by his parents in childhood. When the nun who raised him left his side, he looked at the distant plane and asked his assistant, "Do you believe in God?" The assistant gave a positive answer. But he said, "I don't believe in God, because whoever believes in God doesn't believe in anything else." He didn't understand why his parents abandoned him, and he didn't understand why his prayers were not answered. He believed that he would see his parents, he believed that he was the God he met that afternoon with his parents. To him, God was like a parent who never appeared, only in that afternoon when he couldn't tell the difference between dream and reality.
And this world has always only welcomed new things, and has always only revolved around the new life, but no one will really be nostalgic for things that are on the verge of disappearing. In wheelchairs, in hospital beds, in front of graves, everything is more like a routine. No one can do anything, time pushes everything forward, and indulging in the past means death. As the second line says, when you see everything so close when you are young, that is the future; when you see everything so far away when you are old, that is the past. The young girl dancing in front of the window, the naked Miss Universe, is not afraid to show her youthful appearance. Although this makes Mick and Balingzhe, who are on the verge of death and addicted to the past, fascinated. The Creator uses her hands to create childhood after childhood, giving them emotions and desires and letting them spend their time in this world. But never pity an old man who longs to go back to the past, to his childhood.
Contradiction? You never changed the look of your childhood, but the rush of time makes you forget everything about your childhood?
If memory is a catalyst for growth and aging, then this response may not happen at all. What if it was consciousness? What about those consciousnesses that you don't know if you still remember, but have been hiding in your nooks and crannies?
This life has never been an enemy of childhood, but never circumvented death.
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