The shy boy came to Lucas Clinic, a biotechnology company, in an attempt to achieve "close contact" with his idol Hanna, infecting her with the herpes virus.
This is a sick age, with ubiquitous whiteness and ubiquitous coldness. When the society's consumption of celebrities has reached its peak, it is a happy event for them to fall ill. The pathogens are made into exquisite injections and injected into fans at high prices.
The male protagonist Syd, although Mingli is a virus injection salesman, actually has a morbid fascination with stars. Every time I get an opportunity, I use myself as a container, tie the public virus into the vein, and then go home to quietly dialysis and purify it, and sell it on the black market. It doesn't matter if you are sick, just don't die.
Until one day, it was his turn to take blood for the popular actress Hanna on top of the shift. Under the ecstasy of syd, he secretly injected a little Hanna's blood into himself in the toilet with almost masturbation-like excitement. Unexpectedly, this time the virus is deadly, Syd is horrified to find that he is dying, and the news of Hanna's death is also reported on TV.
It's like being in a depressing stage play, empty set, boring monologue, impersonal story, gloomy background music, no huge ups and downs, some just fall deeper and deeper into bondage, and layers unfold. helpless.
The whole world is like a huge hospital, with white as the keynote layout, clean, sterile, rubber gloves, masks, needles, clear and naked shots of piercing into the skin or mucous membranes again and again, saliva on the ground or black vomit. Blood, extremely clean, and very, very dirty, seems to be able to smell those fishy odors through the lens, which makes people extremely uncomfortable.
While watching the movie I asked myself what is Syd doing all this for, he is not like a butcher shop owner for money, nor like a mad scientist Derek for fame and fortune, at the end of the film, he is on his knees and licking the bionic tissue When the black blood shed from the incision, I felt strongly that he had regarded Hanna as his god.
Syd chose to be a salesman in this business because he is a crazy fan, and the words he said to the little brother who came to ask for herpes at the beginning of the story came from the heart. "She is so beautiful, so perfect that she surpasses human beings." Although he repeatedly emphasized that he was just a thief, although he transported the virus, he was unwilling to lose himself. Although he once stood in front of the TV cabinet and watched Hanna's images, he was heartbroken. He didn't want to see his idol trapped in such a TV screen, but it was also his idea to finally throw the dead Hanna into the 3D culture. He finally turned his idol into an eternal zombie, so that he could kneel and lick his god forever.
In this era, celebrities are no longer a distant symbol. They all live on Weibo and entertainment headlines. The grass-roots people are excitedly watching their bits and pieces, eating, drinking, laughing and farting. Every moment may become a hot spot . Their lives have become exhibits. Big things, small things, good things and bad things, all have to be magnified by the media and shown to the audience over and over again. They no longer have the right or qualification to live like a person.
And the madness of the fans has fanned the flames even more. Every day, I see posts from the gossip group asking for revelations and digging deeper. Even a piece of booger that an idol bounces off easily can be collected by high-priced auctions. A lot of people are too lazy to find themselves, they simply cling to their idols, lusting after their idols' lives, or use them as their own spokespersons, getting closer and closer, fantasizing about blurring the boundaries between themselves and their idols.
After watching the film, I first thought of Yao Beina donating her cornea and being photographed secretly by the paparazzi in the morgue. Whose fault is it to be shamelessly consumed after death?
Looking at Leslie Cheung again, since his death, every year from January to April 1st, it seems that there are his fans everywhere. There are even concerts held in memory of him. Isn't this consuming him again and again?
Finally, I thought of Lao Bi, the poor country-style host, no matter what his purpose was or not, because of his performance at the dinner party, he was ruined. He should know clearly that in this era, as a celebrity, he no longer has the freedom to be a human being. Every minute, unless he is dead, he must wear a mask.
I don't think it's fair.
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