He sang, Don't you know. Girl, you'll be a woman soon. You'll be a woman soon.
Movies such as "Pulp Fiction", with a joking meaning, seem extremely deep. Boxer Butch. Gang boss Wallece. Mia almost died after taking drugs. Vincent who killed a good man by accident with a pistol. And the couple who attempted to rob the cafe with guns. Everything is illogical, but like the reflection of a true story. Everyone, everything, behind the scenery, hides the cruel truth.
For example, Butch, childhood memories, about his father who died in the Vietnam War, his grandfather who died in World War II, and the watch that was hidden in an ass hole and passed to him with difficulty. These, let him grow strong and crazy. Finally, he became a boxer who seemed to be controlled by a gang and born for money. However, in the end, he successfully defeated his opponent, settled the enemy who was chasing him, and went far away with his little lover.
The gang boss Wallace is also a legend. His fate is incredible. According to ordinary people’s thinking, he should be a man behind the scenes who controls everything, but his fate is so peculiar. He ran into Butch who was trying to drive away in a morning when he bought breakfast, and the two were magically knocked down by another car. , And fell into another black nest. Wallace was even tied up by two men and raped. Then, he was miraculously rescued by Butch, who was also kidnapped but escaped victoriously. A pair of enemies who were originally incompatible with each other, because of this almost impossible accident, they resolved their hatred.
Suddenly, I felt that the protagonists who were once looked up by us, perhaps, many years later, are just ordinary people with a vague face and extreme emotions.
And our lives simply cannot contend with the mighty destiny. Who I met in one second, and who I missed in the next second. Who can foresee the end.
In this movie, my favorite character is Vincent Vega, who worked for Wallace and danced with Mia on stage and was shot by Butch one morning. He was bewildered by Mia's beauty, but he abides by the loyalty that is never sentimental to the boss's wife. He accidentally killed a friend with a pistol in the car on the highway, washed the human skull and blood in a panic, and then experienced a gun robbery in a cafe wearing a low-quality T-shirt and beach pants. Of course, the ending given to him by the screenwriter was really too tragic. This single-celled man loves to read newspapers in the toilet very enjoyably. He also gave Mia a life-saving shot in a panic, and likes to put his pistol in his wide crotch.
I think he is not strong enough to defend himself against the dangers brought about by being a killer. He is simple, cruel, lovely, and enthusiastic. But he died. When he was waiting for the rabbit at Butch's house, when he was full of energy just after going to the toilet, when he left the pistol on the kitchen cabinet, when Butch came home to get the watch that is more important than life. Such a man, his life is born for faith. Love, desire, justice, and evil are all nothingness to him. Or even death is a product of faith.
Can you understand such hopeful and extremely desperate faith? We, in our ignorant life, have forgotten how to carry our ideals. If you can abandon complicated thoughts, ignore hostile gazes without distraction, and take everything so important not so resolutely, then, is it right? You can simply be happy.
Of course, the shaping of the character of Vincent is inseparable from his boss Wallace's wife, Mia. She likes to wear bright lips, talk to Vincent on the walkie-talkie, and dance with men seductively with naked ankles. The night when Vincent was rescued from the drug overdose, she asked him gently, do you still want to hear that cold joke.
It seems that foreign women have a certain unruly temperament in their nature. Whether young, old, or a toddler with a pacifier swaying. Most of them are hearty and enthusiastic, not humble, not shy. Like the transparent blue sky of Europe, it is breathtakingly beautiful. It was like, on that cold and windy evening, on the way to the library, a strange man gently hugged her over his head. And she screamed unfettered like that, because of the sudden physical stimulation and the great happiness in her heart.
These, the incomplete plot and the complete story, as well as many touching little feelings, you may not remember it. At this moment, two thirty in the morning GMT, I was writing these words in Urge Overkill's voice. How would you miss those shared times? Still trampled on his face expressionlessly. This English song that keeps repeating is dedicated to our youth, as well as the vain and indifference that you have spared no effort to present to me.
You can’t say this sentence, let it replace you: Girl, you'll be a woman soon. You'll be a woman soon.
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