Every role in "Leon" is unexpectedly brilliant. It doesn't have a lot of deep thinking, but it's too convincing. As a professional killer, Leon’s life is simple-pure and even like a craftsman of the old age, going out early and returning late, running for a living, training again and again, completing tasks, because of the dangerous profession he even sleeps Also sit, face love and possible leisurely life, and exercise restraint and remind yourself. He is not so much a killer as it has become a kind of life itself-he represents the most extreme side of men-to deal with powerful and cruel opponents ruthlessly, when dealing with meek women and delicate children, he must maintain The rule-do not hurt them, even compromise, and warmth is even their Achilles heel, and finally repays them at the cost of life. "There are rules for one line. Don't kill women, don't kill children." Behind this rule and taboo, the love and affection he longs for and cannot be desired is printed. After many years of paralysis, the accidental intrusion of a little girl reminded him of these forgotten things, just like remembering his childhood story. The old man said: "When you first came to this country, you were messed up and messed up by women. Now, you are an excellent killer." The strength and coldness of people are roots that grow in the soil of pain and destruction, but they are destined to grow. Become a plant that is carefully taken care of by the killer but cannot produce flowers or fruits. The appearance of Matinda became the light of his life, and also became her own destruction and rebirth and redemption. Just as he opened the door at the moment of panic after facing the bloodbath of her family, the light illuminates her face and her own life. He was changed by her, and he became her love and new life. So far everything in the painful life has been subverted. I have been speculating about the ending plot. Most people think that when the killer walks towards the door, he is yearning for a new life-in that life, slaughter and vigilance will no longer exist, some only have his Matinda, and his that does not bloom and bear fruit. beloved. The hopeful eyes and the confused and yearning expression on his face betrayed his emotions, but made him lose his instinct as a killer-a pistol followed, and he didn't notice it. Finally, the gun shot and the killer died. At the end of the dark corridor, it was only one step away from the bright doorway. But I am faintly inclined to think that the assassin knows the pistol behind him. He is looking for a dream he can't find. That dream is connected to the corridor and the exit. It is also connected to the pain of this world and the dream of the next life-it is death. He fought a hundred people alone, and in the end he no longer had a pistol and couldn't avenge Matinda. His only hope was to die with that pervert. More importantly, what can he do if he goes out? Is his Matinda better or worse? Still with him, the little girl's life may still be spent in hatred, without a new life, everything is back to the old track-practice, killing, performing tasks, life is like a sharp knife shining coldly. He chose to die. At the last moment after he fell, he sent the bomb pull ring to the hands of the perverted villain, almost affectionate, and soft as if he was a dying exhortation: "This is-from-Matinda -" The bomb detonates, the revenge is complete, and the killer is dead. "This is from, Mattinda--" In a sense, obviously, it was him who avenged Mattinda. But more fundamentally, he did for her the mission he didn't want her to complete in this life. The mission of revenge was completed, Matinda's mission as a killer was completed, and the painful lives of the two killers ended at the same time-one was given eternal rest, and the other was finally liberated. The plant that does not bloom or bear fruit is eventually planted into the grass, and it can grow because it has never been so close to nature. He was always distorted and restrained until one day Madinda was saved by the crazy, stubborn and innocent Matinda, and finally he used all his power as a reward for her long enthusiasm, and the murderer finally completed the rescue. The chance encounter illuminates him, like the most violent light from the grenade in the end—"Is life always so painful, or only when I was a child?" The killer was silent for a while and murmured, "It has always been like this. "It's always been the case, but now it's okay to stop it, and she can also stop it. Life and love forced him on this path, but in the end he returned what he took. The difference is that this time he was willing to find a master for the plant that didn't bloom or bear fruit-she finally rooted it in the soil. The perverted villain likes Beethoven, understands Mozart, recommends his prey to try Brahms, but is extremely cruel and indifferent; the killer is illiterate, does not understand classic movies, does not know Monroe and Chaplin, but lives in a cold life I found refuge and opened the windows and doors of my soul. It turns out that art can cultivate temperament, but it cannot change the soul—nothing can change the soul, because the soul is deeply rooted, and it is the people themselves—just like the career of a killer makes him cold, but it can’t erase the soul that was originally warm in his heart. ——The soul was attracted, but stubbornly ambushed, and finally returned him to himself after accumulating for too long. It is like that plant and milk. It comes from nature and cannot tolerate the slightest pollution, but it cannot find its own land. But it finally went home. If it is green, it belongs to the soil. If she is an innocent daughter, she will definitely belong to another world, but that is what he can't give in his lifetime, what he desires and cannot reach, the past time. It turns out that what each of us is looking for is not mature personality or happiness, but the soul that has been lost by ourselves for a long time. It belongs to the territory of last night and the castle of the past. It originated from our childhood dreams. It has a childlike innocent face. Children can love, fantasize, and can break the adult world with their own survival instincts alone. Human growth and years of tempering are nothing more than abandoning it in turbulence, being confused by it in love, and suppressing it in the harsh laws of survival, but it is still strong and forbearing, hiding its secrets. If you can't see it, it's always there; if you see it, it reveals all the secrets for us. It will always lead us, burying and uncovering like a concealment, until death throws this weird and dazzling dream away from us. Reachable, the past time. It turns out that what each of us is looking for is not mature personality or happiness, but the soul that has been lost by ourselves for a long time. It belongs to the territory of last night and the castle of the past. It originated from our childhood dreams. It has a childlike innocent face. Children can love, fantasize, and can break the adult world with their own survival instincts alone. Human growth and years of tempering are nothing more than abandoning it in turbulence, being confused by it in love, and suppressing it in the harsh laws of survival, but it is still strong and forbearing, hiding its secrets. If you can't see it, it's always there; if you see it, it reveals all the secrets for us. It will always lead us, burying and uncovering like a concealment, until death throws this weird and dazzling dream away from us. Reachable, the past time. It turns out that what each of us is looking for is not mature personality or happiness, but the soul that has been lost by ourselves for a long time. It belongs to the territory of last night and the castle of the past. It originated from our childhood dreams. It has a childlike innocent face. Children can love, fantasize, and can break the adult world with their own survival instincts alone. Human growth and years of tempering are nothing more than abandoning it in turbulence, being confused by it in love, and suppressing it in the harsh laws of survival, but it is still strong and forbearing, hiding its secrets. If you can't see it, it's always there; if you see it, it reveals all the secrets for us. It will always lead us, burying and uncovering like a concealment, until death throws this weird and dazzling dream away from us.
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