For the first film review, I choose to dedicate it to my favorite Eminem. Maybe the following film review is really off topic, but please allow me to use this review to express my love for my father and EM. (ps If you have any suggestions for my writing/movie interpretation/views, please correct me)
May be mixed with too many personal emotions, I gave this movie full marks without hesitation. It may also be that EM was regarded as the sustenance of my feelings, and I was buried in the bottom of my heart. The reverence and love that I did not express to my father were expressed through "blind liking" for EM. It doesn't matter if the film's narrative method is just "normal" as most popular reviews say. In my opinion, for this type of idol movie, although its audience is not necessarily all fans, I think it is a memory that every STAN cherishes for a lifetime, and this is enough. For Mr. Mu, RAP is more of an art. It considers every word, considers rhymes, insinuates reality, or speaks out about some social problems, rather than simply staying on cool and uncool. 8 miles, the gap between heaven and hell, is only 8 miles apart, and many people may not be able to surpass it in their lifetime. Eminem, on the other hand, used his own experience to prove the possibility of transcendence.
In the movie, when EM chokes and then gets laughed out of the stage for the first time on stage, I can't help but bring myself into it and think of my own experience. A RAP GOD will have such a past. As ordinary people, why can't we always face our fragile self or the "failure" side? Why do you always immerse yourself in the shadows of the past and cannot accept yourself? Sometimes others may have forgotten that unbearable memory, but he refused to let himself go, and shackled himself in the prison he had created for himself, unable to go out, and unwilling to go out.
During the "duck slaughtering" days, when I was preparing for a lot of topics, the name that came to my mind was always EM. The person who influences me the most, my role model, the singer I like, the person I respect. There are so many topics that I just want to choose him as a material. His songs gave me strength when I was lost. His experience has rekindled my hope for a confused future time and time again.
I am a very entangled person, but when I chose my English name, I chose Hailie without hesitation. Because I always believed in my heart that that voice was the "But hey" sung by EM to "me" , what daddy always tell you? Straighten up little soldier. Stiffen up that upper lip. What chu crying about? You got me." The phrase "you have me", I don't know how many hard days in a foreign country have accompanied me. This sentence "you have me" is like the sentence "you remember, you are my daughter" that my father once said to me when I was frustrated and pretending to be strong! ! ! I have always admired my father very much. He wrote his own rhythms and poems. When he was middle-aged, he still pursued his own dreams. He longed to run his own bookstore, tea room, and Chinese studies lecture hall. He always told me about kindness, great love, lifelong learning, and the importance of being intellectually curious. The torture of illness, the unfinished art museum, and the hard work of being forcibly demolished did not suppress his belief in life in the slightest. Words are the source of his strength, supporting him to keep moving forward.
He will also be vulnerable, and he will shed tears because of my young and willful me. But after a brief emotional release, he would recover immediately. Heart palpitations and panic, eating a large handful of medicines every day, can only sleep for four or five hours, enduring the pain, still working for the whole family with crutches. I don't know if my heartbeat will continue to beat in the next second, but he still does his best to provide a shoulder for this family and me, running one after another in social events. Getting along with many Chinese fathers and daughters, my father and I lacked too much communication and expressions of love. He gave me the "shoulders of giants", so that I can stand higher and have the opportunity to pursue what I want, but I never said the sentence "Thank you, Dad, I love you". From the moment I looked at his and my mother's back at the airport and parted, I seemed to grow up in an instant. Tears kept rolling in my eyes, but they didn't flow down, because I knew that in the future, I would take care of myself and take care of myself. In the three years that followed, I became more and more aware of gratitude and gradually learned to be content. Although sometimes, I still dare not think about the future, because I really want to be only my father's daughter forever, curl up in my parents' arms, accompany him and my mother, and live happily in our small family. But... When I came to my senses, I knew that what I should do is to carry his hopes for me, to fly higher, and to stop for a while, but in the end, I want to keep flying.
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