After watching several stand-ups of Louis at station B, I caught up with this mini-series. Watching each episode is like reading a story from the Arabian Nights: the contradiction between a century-old bar and the times, willful enough to not support his own son, but when he is old, he casually tells the truth, sexual fantasies about Dad's lover, and his father-in-law get it. They ran together to find out their ex-husbands to ask for experience. They got married to their older wife and sister and gave birth to two half-children in the same year. The family righteously destroyed their brothers’ beautiful relationship, committed suicide inexplicably, and had a mental attack to kill their brother who loved them the most. There are also all kinds of sensitive topics that are going on all the time, politics, abortion, LGBT, race. Louis seems to have put all the most taboo injuries of this era in the United States into 10 shots, forcing the audience to drink them all one by one, full of stamina.
However, it was only discovered in the last episode that it seemed that the stories were endless, but they had already explained the lives of the two shopkeepers. No one loves Pete, her biological father does not recognize her, her adoptive father beats and scolds her, and her adoptive mother abandons her. Horace is insecure and empathetic, and is only charismatic when it comes to sex. Maintaining the simple work of the tavern day after day may be the greatest meaning of their absurd life. After listening to these stories patiently, I can have a huge empathy with these two losers. It would be nice if Pete could fall in love with that girl without stopping the drug and die of liver disease. I also hope that Horace can continue to run the bar and repair the relationship with her son and daughter. Even sympathize with Sylvia, who appeared as a villain in the first place, she has good reason to hate Manhattan, and she should leave forever. It's even a pity that Uncle Pete committed suicide suddenly, why did he commit suicide? You are clear-headed, you can live the rest of your life freely and easily, and no one will care.
Interestingly, not only the bar owners, but the guests are also losers, no one is really decent, and no one even seems to be in good spirits. This is Manhattan, the center of the world in every sense of the word, where people come from all over the place, and they're supposed to be innovators, and they're supposed to be out of step with the conservative old-fashioned Horace & Pete's. One explanation is that the more prosperous the place is, the more losers there will be. They attract each other and walk into this bar together. What I prefer to believe is another explanation. Horace & Pete's has a gravitational field that exists for a hundred years and is about to fall into the woods. For them, the Manhattan in front of them is just an illusion and has nothing to do with them. Then, when people walk in here, the illusory prosperity is also closed at the door, the masks of Decent and Fancy are required to be taken off, and a few cups of simple civilian drinking directly begin to show their unhappiness and unhappiness. As they are proud of, many people died at Horace & Pete's, come here, just drink with ghosts and spirits.
Off topic, dive bars are my favorite kind of place in America. A few years ago, there was such a bar next to my apartment. The guests are all neighbors, and sometimes it can be very lively on a Friday afternoon. Drink two shots and an IPA, chat with people you don't know, play a few rounds of billiards, and get drunk for hours. When you accept the loser side of yourself, life is not that difficult. Hell no, why do we tear ourselves to pieces? We just need a drink, perhaps at a Horace & Pete's.
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