After watching the beginning, I roughly guessed the fixed routine of this type of film, knowing that the end of the inspirational idol must be the ending, but I couldn't stop the tears from flowing again and again.
Ordinary stories, ordinary life. Among the many Hollywood films, the illusory dream sublimated by running is not reflected too much in this film. At the end, after several protagonists have spent their college life, most of them return to McFarland, continue to interpret the days in this small town haunted by sunshine, dust and farmland, driving a bicycle and guiding the new young legs to run towards the same hills. And this ending made me cry uncontrollably. Several middle-aged people on the screen, ordinary and slightly fat, smiled softly at the camera. They are no longer young people. The story of the year can only be staged on students. Years will quietly turn desperate determination into peaceful smiles. Only the pure persistence of runners will probably never fade.
In the toiled and humble picking life of Mexican immigrants, the emotions that spew out from time to time are a tribute to the origin of life, full and abundant. In this small town where the American Dream doesn't seem to shine, the teenagers used all their blood and passion to run up the hill, and it seemed that they could solve the various problems that plagued them all the time-in fact, running in They have long gone beyond the movement itself and become a real turning point in attitudes towards life. In this respect, the film's presentation is a little blunt, but we can still clearly feel the power surging through it.
For Coach White, the significance of the cross-country race is not only in itself. Learning to melt the hearts of children with warm warmth is certainly the focus of the film; but it is not only the little athletes who benefited. In the noisy and frictionless town, the attitude of the White family gradually changed. They laughed and cried. Full of eyes and dancing, McFarland's simple and vigorous attitude to life slowly seeped into the deepest part of this white family.
After watching the movie, Mr. McFarland walked to the podium with a smile. He traveled the world most of the time. When he was in the United States, he listened to Bob Dylan. After class, he marked his homework one by one. He worked as an amateur coach in cross-country races. One of the hot-blooded young students. He and I both firmly believed that he had some wonderful connection to this town, and that connection was certainly not limited to distant relatives from many years ago. Just like me and McFarland, and this group of young people we met by chance.
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