I've seen Ray, so I'm no stranger to Muddy's extramarital affair in the film, and I feel that the description is very subtle.
I remember a few days ago, I was discussing with people that black people in the United States basically did not watch Titanic, and movies such as Dancing with Wolves that promoted white supremacy. At that time, I actually had a question in my mind, so what do the black brothers see? Now, the answer is finally here. They watch movies, like this one, that promote how black people are gifted and intelligent and yet repeatedly oppressed.
The only white man in the film is a very lewd-looking capitalist. When you appeared, you were questioned by your girlfriend why you didn't marry me. When you left, the business failed and died of a heart attack. Male No. 1 appeared as a talented black guitarist, loved his family (in a broad sense), was loyal to his brothers, and exited with a majestic streak across the Atlantic, accepting the Londoners who have always been hated and loved by Americans as the source of elegance and classics worship. This, too, is too facialized...
and when the Blues slowly give way to Rock and Roll, the film implicitly blames white people for shameless plagiarism, from tune to action. When the black guy was on stage playing the guitar and hopping on one foot, I think the screenwriter almost held a sign next to him and said, "Elvis is copying us!" When The Rolling Stones showed up in the film and told Muddy that they named the band after one of his songs, I can imagine the sound of surprise and contentment filling the cinema (…). I think the writers knew their audience well enough to not have the founders of Rolling stone magazine come out and say that, even though their magazine is also named after the song. Black brothers are basically not interested in politics except for racial segregation, except Obama.
No offense, I'm not a racist. Just watched a black version of a patriotic movie and had some emotions. Trying to disguise my contempt for myself here by despising the show.
Finally, although Beyonce appeared to guarantee the box office, my ears still enjoy her songs, especially the one at last. As her voice mellows out of the TV like Guinness, I close my eyes and carefully move my mouth to the cup, letting the creamy fine foam and slightly sweet liquid flow down my throat, esophagus, before reaching my stomach , drenched my heart. The warm and slightly sweet bitterness is the taste of memories.
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