I can only recall is always incomplete. Therefore, there is no way to accurately describe what kind of mood it was when I was watching "Children of Angels" at that time. I clearly remember that after watching the whole movie, I was completely speechless again, just want to light a cigarette, let the rising smoke flood my face, and quietly wait for the inner surging to swept over. Leave no trace of the beach.
After that, I used to recommend this movie to friends who like movies many times when drinking tea and eating. In the constant repetition, I noticed that I kept emphasizing the cold and wet blue and black in the movie. Tune, constantly telling that a sensitive boy watched his cute twin sister die because of poverty, and kept telling that the little boy was ostracized and struggling like a stranger in his hometown--every time, not I would forget to recite the essay written by the boy called "Jesus and the Weather". I can memorize it almost verbatim, and then happily wait for the friend sitting across from him to say, "This movie sounds good, let’s take a look. ". Then, you can say in a deep state that "ANGELA'S ASHES" should not be translated into "Angel's Child", because ANGELA is the name of the boy's mother. Continue to smile.
So, in the bitter taste that pervades the movie, It began to permeate the brilliant lights of the restaurant, the warm and sweet fragrance of tea, the unhurried leisure and the tacit understanding of smiling at each other. The stories of the distant ages and others are just the most dim light at the end of the world You can forget the light when you turn around.
Only in some cold weather, when you get to the edge, can you see clearly that under the light, there is a boy stepping on overshoes patched with bicycle tires and passing through the dimly lit. In the alley, he rushed into his own home where there was nothing. He kicked the water in the house excitedly, making a big splash. And upstairs, his mother was arguing with his father because of hopeless poverty.
Poverty will only make adults feel desperate, and children will not worry about it. Just like childhood in memory, the autumn in my hometown is always rainy and rainy, knocking down the stamens of sycamore trees, and stepping on them is soft and comfortable. Refuse to wear overshoes through the fall, because no matter how good-looking overshoes are, they are too bulky to match the new beautiful dresses. In spoiling and indulging, even when the family's financial conditions are the worst, there is no memory of poverty at all. It's just painful because of too high expectations, and I want to leave that small southern town in search of prosperity and freedom. ——At that time, I was always dreaming of a glorious future. In contrast, my home was just an ordinary place.
Perhaps, in ordinary life, there will be a miracle one day, so we can always reach the long-awaited place. The grown-up boy can finally meet the Statue of Liberty with a smile, full of joy and more expectation, approaching little by little. At that time, all the struggles and sufferings were evaporated in the bright sun-he would not look back, let alone see that suffering mother burned all her life because of raising so many children, even the most basic thing to be a human being Dignity was also burned to ashes. The mother who didn't make many appearances was already drowned in the shadow behind the shining child. ANGELA'S ASHES, ASHES TO ASHES.
In the movie, there is no "then". Life has it. I only know that the parents who watch the watch in their hometown are still reluctant to pay for the car and walk through this rainy season with their old umbrellas. No matter whether they are given money or painstakingly persuaded, they cannot change their frugality; just as their frugal life cannot change their children's requirements for comfort. However, the guardian angel still tried his best to stir up the tired wings, just want to fly as high as possible, look at the brightly lit places in the distance with dim old eyes, miss the favorite child, and live a good life. ? They couldn’t see that the child was standing on his leg, spitting out a puff of cigarette, and complaining casually: My parents taught me that life is to fly high, but they themselves don’t know how to enjoy life, so they need to take care of them—carrying such a heavy thing. , Tell me how to fly?
Fortunately, they can't see it.
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