French people always have a unique understanding of love, female directors always have a unique perspective on love, and French female directors' romantic films always have a unique charm. The female protagonist accused the male protagonist of being changeable, so why not herself. One second is firm to break up, the next second is infatuated. I am afraid that true love is such a tossing like an electrocardiogram. The film unknowingly attracts and touches me. There is no needless sadistic love, nor is it a happy ending to a self-deceiving fairy tale. In the final subjective shot, the close-up of the male protagonist's facial details, the kind of deep affection that seems to be like a lifetime, seems to be sinking again with the female protagonist. Beautiful and sad. Vincent Cassel is really good at playing such a scumbag. The heroine looks like Roberts with a big mouth for a moment.
View more about My King reviews
