A documentary that makes you speechless. Whether it's the picturesque record of the bright and warm honey land in the film or the ruthless, ferocious and changing plots of human real life, everything is like a piece of honeycomb torn from a beehive, and the hardships that are hard to resist are like honeycombs The tightly embraced honeycomb compresses everything, and what fate gives is swallowed in one bite, the sweetness overflowing in the mouth makes people seem to forget all the bitterness and injustice at this moment.
Beekeeper Hatiz's only friends here are bees, and she and bees are gifts to each other. Whenever she opened the stone cover, she always followed the principle of "half you, half me", how much nest honey Hatiz needed to eat, went to the market to sell in exchange for her mother's favorite bananas, and spent many hardships. In winter, she will leave enough weight to bee friends, "protection" and "access" maintain a good balance here. All of this is shattered by the appearance of a new neighbor, a family of nomads, who make deals with merchants to squeeze the bees down to the last drop of honeydew. The sound of chainsaws slicing through tree trunks continued, and the tongues of burning juniper (bee grass) attempted to lick the sky at night.
As always, both Hatiz and her mother were deeply dependent on each other. The consciousness and spirit of an old person live in the body of childhood, becoming fragile and dazed. The half-blind mother's other eye is large and translucent, and it is sometimes difficult to distinguish whether it is the luster of the eye itself or a few dangling tears. Hatiz always brings her favorite bananas to her mother, peels the bananas carefully, and the way her mother chews them makes people want to buy a banana and eat it solemnly, treating it as the only sweetness every day. food to eat. The mother is very cute. When she eats watermelon, the juice will spread all over her lips. Eating a piece of watermelon in this remote land can make her feel good for a while, and then fall asleep satisfied.
In the house made of natural stone bricks, they talked of insatiable, unrestrained neighbors, Hatiz's unfinished marriage, honey and fruit. Thinking that he will eventually die, Hatiz will still live in this world for a long time. The old man wiped his eyes with his hands and said in his mouth, "I bless you, bless you...".
Hatiz's bees were attacked by the neighbor's bees and all died, and the last green color disappeared. The nomads dried up the water and fished everything on the land. The calves got sick and died one after another. The nomads dragged the truck away with everything they stole.
When winter comes, the mother dies, and the land of honey dies. A snow covered all the stories, bees, people that happened on the land. When it was time to say goodbye to a tsunami that exhausted everything and could not withstand life, Hatiz went up the mountain again to get a piece of nest honey.
There's only one puppy around, but it's the same old rule, "Half you, half me."
After countless winters, perhaps when we are about to give up, the warm honey land will rekindle the light of spring.
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