Schmidt tried hard to capture some of his ego that was withering with the wind. First, his job was replaced after retirement. The job that was exclusive to him was actually replaced by others at will. Then the wife, who was so used to it that she didn't have much affection, died. At first, he didn't feel much emotional loss, but when the heavy housework made him scrambling, he missed the benefits of his wife.
He loves his daughter deeply and wants to be close to her to comfort his heart, but her daughter is too busy with marriage work and has no energy to take care of him.
He thought of his childhood, his alma mater, and revisited old places in his RV. But everything has changed, and the memory seems to have never existed.
He tried to touch all the veins that could define him, only to find that everything was like chasing shadows. A life of conscientiousness and orderliness, in the end, is like a void.
Lonely and lonely, he tried to find a window to his soul. He wrote letters to the African orphans he rescued, and wrote about the loneliness that he could not place. With the help of the nun, the six-year-old orphan wrote back to him and gave him a small painting. The simple and childish brushstrokes brought tears to his face.
What the film shows is not only Schmidt's tragedy, but the emptiness of every ordinary person's life background.
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