was also on the weekends, and I couldn’t cope with the arrogant schoolwork arrangements. Crash, just like many people whose hearts are taller than the sky and involuntary... So I turned on the computer to watch this film, just to escape.
The male protagonist of the film can't escape. He guards his ethereal hope, staring at the passing cars on the street and in the dust, hoping that his car will be recovered. What a similar scene, what is lost is the focus of life, but there is one's own responsibility next to him-the child.
That kid reminded me of the last long-distance bus that I squeezed home with my dad when I was young, chaotic, depressed, scared, and pretending to be calm. Just like the little boy following Richie, Bruro. The father in the memory is no different from this Richie who lost his car. They both have that kind of helplessness, anxiety and disappointment, but I seem to be back when I was a kid, it seems that it was the little Bruno, who looked innocently and scaredly. I am afraid that he will be angry, but also feel that he is very pitiful.
Like them, we squeeze the horrible bus together, look for the target together, push and push in the crowd, and we may fight with people at any time. At that time, the little me followed my father's feet closely, looking up at him from time to time, reading his expression and look, just like little Bruno. But Bruno was obviously stronger than me. He was here to help his father. He would get up by himself if he fell. He would dodge cleverly in the vicious traffic to keep up with his desperate father. Bruno looked at his father's expression, that angle, how close the corresponding scene in my mind was. At that time, I looked at my father in the same way. I was afraid that I would be his burden, because I saw it and tasted his expression. Sorrow and grief.
Regarding a section in the restaurant, Richie, bored, looked at the singer singing and seemed very happy, but I knew he was actually unhappy, and I believe Bruro was the same. But we are children and easily believe our father, so we will all have snacks happily.
In the end, Richie and Bruno's hands clasped tightly. My father was also arguing fiercely with the ticket seller and picked me up in the car.
That's it, they in 1947 and us more than forty years later. Having experienced the same state of mind, now I look up and see myself in 1947.
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