When I rewatched Henry & June a year later, and made up the last quarter of what I had somehow left unfinished, Hugo's words came to my ears: If it wasn't for me, how could you write with peace of mind. When the movie was about to end, June leaned on the bedside and cried and scolded: You guys have drained me.
Hugo and June are two endpoints on a chain. Henry grabbed June's ankle, Anais followed Henry's footsteps, and Hugo couldn't let go of Anais. As for Anais' cousin, it was just an accident.
June looked like the biggest threat. Not only did she attract men, but even Anais, and the previously unseen female painter who was said to be as handsome as a man. But June only has the feelings of a literati, she is powerless, she turns around and sticks to Henry, uses all means to support him to write, helps him bargain with publishers, tries to make him into Dostoevsky, and most importantly, through the help of Henry's pen, to write her into a character that everyone admires, but also to be real. It was almost inevitable, no matter what, Henry couldn't meet her request. Henry instead becomes a threat to Anais. When they met for the first time, Anais leaned against her husband Hugo, leaning sideways to listen to Henry's rhetoric, with the back of his hand lightly placed on Hugo's chest, unconsciously resisting and seducing him unconsciously. They started arguing with Lawrence, communicated with each other through sex, but each had his own pen, ready to fight for it at any time. They just heard the story and they didn't rely on anyone else. So Henry said to Anais, I've never loved a woman so seriously. Until Henry became Henry Miller. Anais couldn't help but be attracted to June. It seemed to be the joy of going past the teacher Henry and going straight to the core of the lesson plan. Hugo followed Anais step by step, and finally his unease and jealousy were released in a feast that bordered on rape, and then they went to a gay club to watch a sex show together. But Hugo will never have the innocent that June and Anais often feel at their climax, he's just obsessed with form.
After the suspicion of Henry and Anais's physical relationship was confirmed, if June's performance was a legacy, it was definitely not the usual debauchery, but a powerless nightmare from beginning to end that she finally couldn't control. She left Henry and Anais's new work like a scattered flower, and it was out of jealousy. In June's words, they drained her. In fact, Henry and Anais are undoubtedly also squeezing themselves, just like Anais sitting in her husband's car in the last morning, feeling the regret that the pain is no longer, and the smile slowly revealed by Henry, who was riding a bicycle behind him. They really have their own compensation. And June was hollowed out.
The deafening and blinding sex scenes are but the most simple and natural development in the complex relationship between men and women. The cruelty of the literati squeezing life and squeezing life may be my inner demon. If you should be disdainful of it, what should you be guilty of when you rise up to fight back?
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