Some parts of this documentary made me extremely uncomfortable, and I chose to skip it. Their absurdity, their so-called self-comfort, their so-called joy. It's all built on the pain of other people's nightmares.
A rogue is equal to a free man in a certain sense, which is really absurd! Freedom is based on a certain legal basis. Everyone has freedom, but not absolute freedom. They own their lives, they enjoy the rotten life and enjoy it. It seems that we are not qualified to criticize and examine. After all, it was their choice, but if their lives affected the lives of other innocent people, that would be guilt.
In the first half of the documentary, Anwar and his companions enjoy the thrill of reenacting the killing and their power to take the lives of others in their hands. But slowly when the film progressed to the second half, he saw burning houses and women and girls, he stopped laughing, and his pain slowly began to be exposed to the public. He is also suffering. He carried thousands of lives. He finally experienced that fear, that helplessness, that hopelessness when he went to practice the victim himself. He expressed his regrets to the director, who said to him: You know this is acting, and they know that death is next.
There is no doubt that he will struggle with pain for the rest of his life. The most magical thing is the gold medals awarded to him by those victims. He is also trying his best to convince himself and comfort himself. It's right to kill them.
That's how the film ends with Anwar's retching, and of course I skip it.
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