Every Family is Dysfunctional in a Certain Way.
Finally got to see Honey Boy last week.
My impression of Shia LaBeouf is still in the era of "Transformers". I didn't expect that the male protagonist of the popcorn blockbuster would hand over such an autobiographical feature film.
A father who cannot live his own life can only use more violent means to deal with his son's attempts to resist. All he brought to his son was pain. But there is no absolute evil father in this world, he just hasn't learned or been able to become what Otis wants.
At the end of the story, Otis goes back to the motel where he used to live with his father, hugs him, and hugs himself. In addition to the film, LaBeouf, who finally had the courage to write this story, must have felt that this part of his life could finally be turned over at the moment he wrote the pen.
As I watched this movie, the phrase, Every Family is Dysfunctional in a Certain Way, kept spinning in my head. I thought of my parents, of all the sarcastic, comical, and suddenly grown-up moments I had been through.
My parents got divorced when I was very young. I awarded it to my mother, but I have been living with my grandparents. When I was a child, the few days I spent with my mother were always the smell of gunpowder.
My mom has always had a hot temper. When I was a child, I accidentally broke a cup and smashed it over my head with a scolding; I was unhappy at school, and she would also say that I was not strong enough, I only cried and cried, and I deserved to be bullied.
I have been fat since I was a child. My mother has been clinging to this matter: thinking about it at home, being scolded by her friends when going out, and not forgetting it during the New Year's Eve dinner... I can always remember to talk about it on various occasions.
Once I was very angry and asked her if you could stop talking. She said, I'm joking, how can you be so glassy, you can't even make a joke.
I really want to say that this can only really be a joke if the person involved can laugh it off. These unintentional ridicules and belittlings pierced me like thin needles. At first glance, they looked normal, but they were actually riddled with holes.
One of the things that impressed me the most was after my college entrance examination.
Although my parents divorced very early and my father remarried for a long time, it was only after the college entrance examination that I saw my stepmother for the first time. Ironically, my dad didn't even feel the need to formally introduce her to me in advance, so he directly summoned seven aunts and eight aunts to give me a graduation "celebration dinner".
Can you feel the irony that everyone at the dinner table knows her and I'm the last one? Everyone has a sense of relief that they don't have to keep secrets anymore, and then they say to me with a smile, "Oh, in the future you will have two "mothers" and two loves.
This was the most disgusting meal I've ever had in my life, bar none.
Parents are amazing, they want you to know nothing at one time, but they want you to quickly accept all the changes they bring in the next time.
A few days after the meal, the college entrance examination was given out. There was a seminar on SISU I wanted to go, but I went shopping with my friends, and I forgot about it when I went to high school.
In the evening, my mother suddenly remembered and asked me why I didn't go. I said I forgot.
What followed was a storm.
My mother first said that I can't do anything except play; then she said that it was because of that aunt who came, and I didn't even care about my future; and finally she told me that I was just like my dad, so don't go to study at all... That day In addition to not really doing it, I feel that my mother said all the ugly things.
When I typed this sentence today, I felt that the logic in this accusation really made a black question mark face.
It's been seven years since this happened. I finished college, went abroad for graduate school, experienced an intimate relationship, and started a new life 10,000 kilometers away from home.
One day I was speeding down the Freeway in Los Angeles when I remembered this story and suddenly understood my dad and my mom. My mom was afraid that I would get too close to my dad and my aunt. She was afraid of losing me, so she turned her insecurity and powerlessness into anger and passed it on to me; while my dad had an ostrich mentality. To put it bluntly, life can go on peacefully like this.
In a sense, they, like LaBeouf's father, were people who didn't have the courage to face their own lives.
When I was a child, I was a standard likable personality, and I hoped to have a lot of love and a lot of care. So I study hard, behave well, and hope to be a "good boy" in the eyes of everyone.
Not anymore.
I can finally tell myself when my mother asks me "why I can't do anything well", I just haven't achieved what she thinks "excellent" in her single judging system, but she is confined to that side of the world, and I don't Not the whole picture of the world. And people can't comprehend life beyond what they imagined.
Fortunately, I no longer feel disappointed in myself because of the disappointment of others. I no longer want to distort myself to be what other people like.
Man is the sum of the past. I am the best I have been in the past few years.
I didn't become my parents' ideal daughter, and they certainly didn't become my ideal parents.
Writing here, I suddenly feel that this section of life can finally be turned over.
Two days ago, I accidentally broke an expensive glass, and finally there was no red-faced scolding in my ears. I picked up the glass shards and threw them in the trash, then turned around to do something else.
Such a good life.
View more about Honey Boy reviews
