No miracles, only consolation

At the beginning, when I knew about the general plot of a white-haired man sending a black-haired man, I thought it was a tear gas bomb, or a didactic film that parents should try to understand their children's minds. But when the old father is alone, he goes from self-closing with all his worries to letting go of his defenses and opening his heart, from not saying a word, to expressing his emotions through wine, to really integrating into the team of the walkers and entering the role, the beautiful scenery and laughter along the way. , There is no danger, making this a bit sad topic natural and easy. Although the plot is simple, the heart is gently rubbed by an extremely grand theme, following the growth and precipitation of the journey full of southern European style.

I remember that the heroine in a novel went to great lengths to find the letter of her deceased husband's relics, and even sacrificed her body and the officials who embarrassed her. When she got the letter back, she breathed a sigh of relief, put it in the cabinet, and went back to it. Haven't looked at it.

Just like travel, we always endow it with various meanings such as literature and art, or belief, but in fact, you are like all kinds of "pilgrims" in the film, forgetting or unwilling to admit that your original purpose is just to play , In order to lose weight, in order to talk about after a meal.

Often, we get lost in the twists and turns of searching for what we are attached to, and finally forget the original nature of our search for what we are attached to. Essence and meaning are different levels of things, and they cannot be mixed together, nor can they replace each other. The essence of anything is to entertain life, and it is the behavior of human waste of time in different ways and rules of the game. To put it bluntly, it is used to waste time and waste life. But we seem to be accustomed to finding so-called deep and unique meanings in them, as if in this way some kind of sublime can be used to cover up the time-wasting truth of life.

You are not on a pilgrimage either, you are just making a pilgrimage to this person because of fate or accident. Maybe that person is your son who died young, your unforgettable lover after you broke up, or your comrade-in-arms. More often, you are making pilgrimages to yourself, no matter how big or small your desire is, the direction of everyone's heart is sacred. There are no miracles, only consolation.

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