The male protagonist is a depressed middle-aged man who is a literature teacher in middle school and loves wine and understands wine. The literary dream of college days is not dead, he writes painful and delicate novels, but the publishers always say that there is no market. In small talk he can drop the well-known and little-known names of both old and new literary genres, but he is still one of many writers who have written books but never got them published. His familiarity with wine is far from knowing a thing or two. Those lines on wine are so amazing, and the summarization of a few words can hide his merits and fame; but he is suffering from depression and always feels that he is not perfect. Not perfect enough to quit teaching to attack the wine industry, and not perfect enough to hold on to the belief that he can still write and be famous for the rest of his life. It doesn't have Amy's feeling of winning with soft light in "Gone Lover", nor is it the "American Dream" of Francis Underwood's chicken blood like "Nightcrawler". This movie about this frustrated man is full of the so-called capitalist society. Semi-intellectual "Higher Melancholy". Finally, he opened the bottle of 61-year-old Cheval Blanc at the burger joint, secretly poured it into the disposable cup of the fast food restaurant under the table, and drank the good wine with junk food.
In the movie, a friend doesn't return home for a good night, and the lonely male protagonist buys a copy of Barely Legal at a convenience store alone. I remembered the first time I came to the United States with a summer camp four years ago, and the boys who went with me gave me money to buy a porn mag for them, because it is legal for underage women to buy adult magazines, but not for boys. It wasn't until after that trip that I realized how unreasonably simple the worldview of the previous decade was, and how inconsistent the rules of the test-taking game I knew were incompatible with the complex value system of the real world. Therefore, for the next two years, he lived in anger and forbearance, aggressively declaring war on the self-intoxicated small lake and the land of fish and rice on the side of the old city. Afterwards, I graduated happily and studied in another land, and the air smelled like a wet and sweet possibility. Then I found out that everything was a huge knowledge, driven by strong self-esteem or pride, and cautiously bluffing at any time, fearing to be considered as little-known. Whether it’s in literature class or European history class before and after class, I repeatedly weigh up my own unspoken views. Nine times out of ten, I have to wait for Americans to casually mention relevant topics before I can’t bear to raise their hands to correct them. or complement. For a period of time, I even completely isolated from social interaction. I wish I could read ten years of books overnight before going to talk to the professor.
In the movie, the male protagonist insists that he can't open the 61-year-old Cheval Blanc, because the opportunity to open must be the right person at the right time, so the opportunity seems to never come. After being in school for a long time, I found in the library that there were always one or two pedantic looking old men, too old to recognize, but I could recognize their faces when they met more frequently. Every time I see the expressions on their faces, it seems that they are not in this dimension. It's not clear who they were, but apparently they weren't professors. In the cafeteria, juniors and seniors don't usually go there, but sometimes they can be seen. There are Free Food activities, and you can also see them. Maybe they have also been in the academic circle but disdain the rules, maybe they are just obsessed with the joy of pure love of intellectual climbing, maybe the existing invisible rules compared to reality make them feel familiar and safe in the closure of the ivory tower. In the end is out of what kind of state of mind, there is no way to know. But the aftertaste of self-discipline should not be good, and it is easy to get drunk and bitter.
I think I can understand the man's faint smile at the empty drink glass, and maybe he really understands what the sommelier is trying to say to him: the moment you open that bottle is the right moment. What about the nectarine with fast food, what about the wrong cup and the wrong way to drink it, if there will never be that golden moment in life worthy of opening this top bottle of Baima Zhuang. This is my life, good and bad.
View more about Sideways reviews
