*There are key plots revealed.
*Purely subjective feelings. If you think you have resonance in bold, then you are suitable for this show.
Bodyguard, the new BBC drama in 2018, has just been finished, but the meaning is still unfinished. Partly because of the handsome male lead, and partly because of the gloominess of the subject matter. This feeling is like the image of the male protagonist David Budd in the last episode. He is wearing a suicide vest, and his forehead is brushed with dry blood on the corners of his mouth. His eyes are desperate and cold when he looks at the police surrounding him. His hands were steady and his voice trembled when he tried to cut the bomb's wire.
He is so handsome. Not only is handsome, but also handsome. When speaking, the words are concise, and when not speaking, it seems that every line of the body, face, eye sockets, and corners of the mouth is telling. There is no sound. But you can receive it. The silent vigilance, neat action, calm persistence, speechless resistance and pursuit in the darkness of invisible darkness.
I have been thinking about the source of this darkness. His heart was filled with darkness, and his body was surrounded by darkness. When ordinary human beings are happy and warm because of ordinary life, he does not. For him, maybe life is a wolf biting in the dark night, thinking that it rains when the sky is clear. When driving in a tunnel, you can't see it, but you can clearly feel it. It is something that will be out of his control at any time. Although at work, he seems so in control, so safe and proper.
He hasn't talked much. In a lot of scenes in the play, he is silent and then doing some things. It was not until the last episode, knowing that there might be no chance again, that he mentioned to his wife the dark source deep in his heart. With a bomb hung and facing a gun that might kill him, he said to his wife with tears in his tears:
I've let you down, I know that.
But on our children's lives,
I'm not a traiter and I hadnothing to do with Julia's murder.
I'm sorry for what I've put you through.
I'm sorry I've stopped being the man you married.
I've tried to explain,
but part of me never wants to explain what the war did to me.
I never wanted it to touch you, or us,
but it has.
I tried to stop it but I couldn't.
I've failed as a husband, and as a father,
and that's the worst thing.
I'm sorry.
There is only one word at the core of this passage: "Sorry". I'm sorry I let you down. I'm sorry that my hard attempt failed. I'm sorry that I let you go through all this that I didn't want and you shouldn't have gone through. And the reason for all this is the part that I can’t and don’t want to explain to you: "what the war didi to me"-everything the war did to me.
Looking back from this sentence, I suddenly found that in this play, David Budd's long silence, and even his extremely restrained words, are actually showing a state of calmness and darkness and despair. In that state, I can't summarize it concisely and concisely. But the general feeling, I have experienced it, so before I realized it, I was easily moved by this character and resonated.
That state, if expressed in the form of a monologue, would probably be: I know. I know the darkness is there, it's in my heart, it's eating away, and I'm trying to control it. I can control it, sometimes, but it’s already exhausting my whole body. And sometimes, I can’t. I failed. It escaped. It rages in my mind and my soul. It is dragging me into the abyss. I am resisting. I am so tired. But I can't give up yet. I won't give up, but I'm so tired.
I believe this is the daily feeling of the character of David Budd. Because of this feeling, he is always in a sense of distance and dissociation from people and things. No one shares his loneliness. His loneliness is nothing to say. His loneliness can only be slightly reduced by the heroine who makes a stunning appearance at the beginning of the series but disappears suddenly in the play, the Minister of the Interior Julia. Maybe it's because they are close enough to easily reach the naturally admirable part of each other's personality traits. Perhaps due to the extreme high pressure and tension of the working environment, the warmth of the skin-to-blind date is extraordinarily penetrating. In the airtight inner world of the male protagonist, Julia was once a firework that approached and illuminated this darkness.
But he also saw something in her body and in the system that she represented behind it, which made him more aware of the cruelty of the power (power) and benefits (benefits) to rule the world. Then, naturally he also experienced this cruelty himself. Julia's death is nothing but a profit for the murderer behind the scenes ("business, nothing personal"). As for the witnesses and evidence obtained with great effort, one was easily let go by the authority, and the other was cleverly used by factional struggles. At the end of all this stands a rather dark humorous "end-to-end echo" truth: in the first episode, the man saved by David Budd is the key to Julia's death.
In the play, the British government is fighting terrorism, but even greater terrorist attacks come from a series of consequences caused by counter-terrorism actions. In the so-called counter-terrorism process, ministers fight for power and bureaucrats win profits. All this seems to just show that there is nothing new under the sun.
So for me, the failure of this show is a series of labels that it promotes and attracts the public: the latest anti-terrorism theme, revealing the secret of the bodyguard profession. Perhaps this is a deviation and error in publicity. The theme of the series is not so much about anti-terrorism as about politics, or half and half. The plot of the drama includes eye-catching bed sheets and detective drama routines that create a sense of suspense. And these mixed performances are not the point. For me, the focus of this show is the presence and performance of the male lead. This play shows a damaged man who walks like a zombie in the sun. Handsome, glamorous, but full of darkness, gathered in his silence, ready to come out.
My understanding of this drama may be a very personal experience. What the male protagonist silently conveys from beginning to end is the irreparable damaged state after experiencing some things. The feeling in that state is like when you are drunk, when you have a concussion, or when you are locked in a house for a long time and suddenly go back to walking in the daylight, you will feel that the world around you is slightly out of balance. Shake gently with your steps.
Why isn't it shaking violently? Because you know you are trying to control. If you don't control it, your world will collapse. It will hurt yourself and your loved ones. And the one who loves you? nonexistent. Because you have almost lost your feelings.
Living in this world, living to the present, if we are not lucky enough, who of us does not have some bottomless holes that cannot be seen or touched? This play has portrayed a character like David Budd, and quietly tore the trauma in his heart to the audience. And I hurt, and I am happy because of the pain. This is why I recommend this show. What a good work brings to you is not the lightness and joy, but the possibility of pain and sorrow.
Only after the pain, can it be healed. A good work tears open the wounds that your life has imposed on you in this era. This tearing will bring a sad pleasure. That kind of raging sadness does not need to have an end. Because it will flow away slowly after all. But when it flows and covers every inch of my skin and floods every blood vessel, I feel that I am truly alive.
The dark night gave us black eyes, let us know that we are the light that will eventually be swallowed.
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