---I'm not ready yet.
---No one is ready.
Life is always like this, there is no need to prepare, things are so real and sudden, you are caught off guard, all you can do is bear, and youth is even more so.
Pencil marks on a brown notebook, young backs walking in long shots, constant friction on the skateboard and the concrete floor, huge ventilation aisles closed at both ends, colorful and weird graffiti on the slides, flying bodies of teenagers, Those slow-motion scenes that are quietly advancing in the background - marching, arguing, bewildering, struggling, sinking, Gus Van Sant watched this group of teenagers from outside the camera with compassionate eyes, this piece of youth growing up hard. From drugstore cowboys, my own Idaho, elephants to psychedelic parks, these teenagers are lost in their youth and greedy and trying to redeem themselves in some way. They are sensitive and closed, fragile and soft inside, trying to find strong feelings to rely on. Because of this demand, I was extremely anxious.
He loves his family and wants love and warmth from them. But his family couldn't give. The beautiful and quiet mother hopes for a stable and comfortable life for the family, while his father, the man with sexy wheat-colored skin and a full arm of tattoos, yearns for freedom and an endless journey. There was nothing they could do about each other, so they kissed and said goodbye.
"I may need to leave for a while, I hope it won't hurt you." Facing his father's pale farewell, he didn't even look up, just nodded seemingly indifferently, all he could do was listen to his younger brother Tell new fairy tales and kiss his forehead and smile at him.
He also worked hard to love his little girlfriend. This beautiful and curious girl, partying with him, playing games, or having sex with him, can't understand the panic and needs in his heart. So no consolation can be given. She regards youth as a cup of delicious ice cream, trying to explore, experience, and taste from different angles in various novel ways, chewing completely without leaving scum. In such a fierce collision, youth can't talk and can't be relieved.
So when the girl took him by the hand into the boudoir and made love to him at the party, he had nothing but silent cooperation. When the girl excitedly told her friend about her first sexual experience on the phone, Alex's beautiful clear eyes were empty. Everything is simple enough to just happen.
It was all this inability to let him fall in love with the psychedelic park. It was the first time he faced this group of skateboarders, his gentle eyes flashed over the free faces, and he was sure that he liked it here. For a whole afternoon, he sat on the skateboard with his knees on his back, basking in the sun, smiling and watching them fly lightly on the slide. It was an untouchable temptation for him. A light-hearted man can have wings, but he cannot.
He never went down that slide from beginning to end, and only in the 3/4 of the film, he vaguely felt that he was sliding back and forth in the ventilation duct closed at both ends, as if struggling in that huge cage. The sound of the skateboard rubbing against the ground in slow motion sounded like the groan of a trapped beast.
The unfamiliar young man came to borrow his skateboard and talked to him about the lives buried under the slide, the light and forgetful flying that made their souls fall and rest here.
Alex agreed to ride the train with the man, with the skateboard under his arm, to experience another kind of swelling from flying. When he heard the icy crash of the rails, when the wind filled his ears, he was finally able to fly lightly. To be able to breathe freely in the heart may be called true happiness. Let the great roar of the train and the wind beating on your cheeks wash away the heaviness.
But the old and dedicated railway patrolman appeared at such an inopportune time. He waved his baton and chased him all the way, just to warn the naughty boy of the danger here. And this adolescent boy is like an eagle with outstretched wings, looking at everything that hinders his flight as his enemy. In a panic, Alex waved the skateboard in his hand to get the old man to back away, but unfortunately hit him on the head. He just fell on his back on the rails and was run over by the train that passed by. The young boy jumped out of the car and stood in front of the old man so helpless, facing his damaged body, he couldn't breathe even with his mouth wide open. I think he originally wanted to say sorry, youth may be rebellious, but no sin. And the old man raised his head and looked at Alex with difficulty. There was no hatred in his eyes, just nostalgia for life and regret for youth.
He finally chose to escape. He couldn't bear this heavy responsibility. He threw away the skateboard that had become the murder weapon, and also threw away the wings of freedom.
After that he hides his fears and suffers in the face of his guilt at the same time.
There is no object to distract or talk to, and the diary is just a thicker cocoon and a deeper vortex for itself.
When he led the dog and sat on the bench in the suburbs, even the surrounding air was full of confusion and sadness. The younger brother would vomit violently at the dining table without his father every time he eats, so as to relieve his inner grief, but he can only vomit in front of his own heart and let the filth flow.
He spreads himself out on the side of the road, exhausted by the pressure from within. Lie under the sky gasping for breath. The newly bought skateboard was thrown aside, as if only the deep earth could help him carry those pains, responsibilities, and dreams. The little girl who was slightly fat passed by him, stopped the bicycle, and looked at Alex on the ground with some pity in her eyes. They went home together in the sunset, the little girl pedaled her bicycle hard, Alex stood on the skateboard, grabbed her car and sat back, letting her drag her slowly forward, guiding his heart with difficulty and force .
"Tell me about those things," the girl said.
"..."
"If you don't want to, then write."
"To whom?"
"Write to me."
"And then?"
"I don't know, maybe it should be done."
So, on that sunny, breezy afternoon , the two teenagers lit some letters somewhere in the suburbs, watching those flames beat. We couldn't see the expressions on their faces at that time, it was sadness or relief, but I would like to believe that this quiet talk and sharing relieved the pain and fear in his heart.
Such an accident that happened in youth should probably have nothing to do with the law, because growing up will inevitably have pains. It runs counter to youth, so there will be tears from time to time, and we are drifting away from these setbacks and learn to face it firmly.
I always feel that a good film is not what it teaches you, but that everyone can find what they are missing in it, whether it is the use of landscape-like colors, the repetition of phantom-like details, the scattered and full plot advancement, or just teenagers. A handsome face, slender fingers, difficult youth, or the needs and confidence of the heart, everything is good, as long as there is something to gain, you can feel a sense of relief.
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