Although I have no faith, I like to watch movies that discuss religion. Curious why someone would believe something they've never seen and force everyone to be like him. For those who don't believe, throw him a final version of the fate of hell, like the nonsense of Grandma Wolf heard when I was a child.
So I love this movie, black people are angels, God's spokesmen, living in a slum flat. There was misfortune all around, and all he could help was to give them what he could. It's a pity that the group of Junkies, who are in constant fear of basic survival all day long, can steal something from him is enough for a long time. No need for him to save.
At this time, a white professor who had read 4,000 books, full of deviant ideas, full of emptiness in the world, committed suicide. The angel's challenge came, and before the professor went to hell, he hoped to convert the professor, so that such a rich soul could go to God. (This is also one of the achievements of the angels?) The result, failure. Big fail. Complete failure.
Great ending. Faith, to put it bluntly, is folly. Like the black angel, he only needs one book. So he was firm enough. And the professor, he obviously knew too much. 4000 books, which one is the truth? Who can convince whom?
I am not a professor. I'm one of those Junkies. Satisfaction with small pleasures, perhaps, is the pleasure of self-high. That's enough. Therefore, it is good to watch such a movie, because it is too far from life.
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