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gloomy eyes
Dahlia 2022-04-19 09:03:11
This is the only film that gave me goosebumps after watching it. Oscar has been ready to see the world with a cold eye since he was born. I never thought that people could have such a cold view. It seems that the world exists purely objectively, and it has nothing to do with me. My birth was simply a runaway passion between my parents. There aren't any pretty embryos in the incinerator of libido, so Oscar isn't cute, it just makes me sick. Because he lives too calmly, in addition to the love and warmth given by others, he only has cold eyes. So I seem to feel that I am also his lackey, an eyeliner, I have witnessed his mother's manic sexual desire, his uncle's uncontrollable extravagance, maybe they really have love, so can't wait for sex? The ugliness of human nature is only sanctimonious! Maybe the head that caught the disgusting moray eel was the director's cryptic language, full of discrimination against this kind of perverted sex, or maybe it was just a simple objective description. I've seen everything I shouldn't have, so I'm going to destroy everything, including myself. I will never become the object of my own contempt, I told him everything I saw. Maybe he knows better than me. Everything seems to be starting to go wrong, his lover has become his stepmother, and the war has robbed him of the warmth he gradually had. Who is to blame? This world should be scorned with cold eyes and invaded with pessimism. Enough, maybe, that's what the movie was trying to say, I just feel cold, I have to admit.
Extended Reading
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Bebra: You must join us, you must!
Oskar Matzerath: You know, Mr. Bebra... to tell the truth, I prefer to be a member of the audience, and let my little art flower in secret.
Bebra: My dear Oskar, trust an experienced colleague. Our kind must never sit in the audience. Our kind must perform and run the show, or the others will run *us*. The others are coming. They will occupy the fairgrounds, they will stage torchlight parades, build rostrums, fill the rostrums, and from those rostrums preach our destruction.
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Oskar Matzerath: There once was a drummer. His name was Oskar. He lost his poor mama, who had eat to much fish. There was once a credulous people... who believed in Santa Claus. But Santa Claus was really... the gas man! There was once a toy merchant. His name was Sigismund Markus... and he sold tin drums lacquered red and white. There was once a drummer. His name was Oskar. There was once a toy merchant... whose name was Markus... and he took all the toys in the world away with him.