Rudderless is a family story, and it fits my tears well.
The school shooting killed six victims and the boy who shot him, Josh. Josh's parents, girlfriends, and maybe many others have changed the trajectory of their lives. Josh's golden-collar dad, Sam, switched careers as a plasterer, slept on a boat that never turned on, and poured overnight piss into the sea every morning. It is worth mentioning that even me, a foreigner with severe face blindness, can nod without hesitation through the messy character design on the screen and say: Billy Crudup is so handsome!
Sam, who suffered the loss of his son, was also faced with the cruel fact that his son was a murderer, and he had no choice but to escape until he heard a few songs left by his son - great songs. He disguised these songs as his own, took them and formed a band with a few young people, which was very popular, until the truth was discovered, and everything seemed to be back to square one.
In fact, there are many touching points in the whole film. Whenever josh's song plays, it is like a sacred ceremony, reminding us that murderers also have concentration, tenderness, and even talent. If it wasn't a movie, but a real moral trial, the parts that looked good at first glance would be even more brutal, you can't defend a murderer, because six other families lost their children because of that maniac madman! The defense of the murderer is to some extent a secondary injury to the victim. You must condemn the evil deeds and show sympathy to the victim. You must even continue to hurt the murderer and his family with words or actions to appease the victim. anger. The movie makes the whole thing beautiful, we can see at the beginning of the movie that josh is so clean, focused, and talented, and if we could, we would all prefer to shoot a man with an ugly face and a vicious heart.
But josh kills because of illness, and his relationship with his father seems to be very good.
Does anyone care about the killer's parents? In all fairness, when I see similar news in my life, I will only scold them that they deserve it, and I will automatically attribute it to "the fault of not raising the godfather". But others go to the child's cemetery to mourn for peace. Sam goes to his son's cemetery, full of bright words, and what he sees is a rebuke and a curse on the murderer and the devil. He had to kneel in front of his son's tomb with his ex-wife to wipe off the insults, other than that, he could only bear it. Next to the Memorial to the Victims, Sam burst into tears, saying "he's my child", "he's my child"...you lost your child like them, but no one cares.
Kill for life, the murderer should be subdued.
The last time Sam sings his son's song at the bar, just as alone as the first time. This time he said, my son josh, two years ago, killed 6 people, this is his song. Unlike the first noise, everyone quieted down until he finished singing and walked off the stage silently. Of course no one applauded, and I wonder if anyone whispered or sighed after Sam left. But I think all this is not so important. What is important is a father who accepts everything from his son, good and bad, and he no longer doubts it.
Growing up, I was taken care of more by my mother, but little love from my father. So when I see this kind of work on the theme of fatherly love, I always feel envious. Yes, I envy the murderer who can write good songs because he has a good father.
His father, after his unforgivable sin, wanted to know him again.
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11:44 pm New document, lights out.
My mother is facing unemployment recently, so she can't help but chat with me about the shortcomings of many parents, about how difficult it is to find a job, about the age of tea salesmen, about "there must be a road to the mountain", about Tell me not to worry about her.
In fact, I rarely worry about her. "Heartless" refers to people like me. Ever since I was a child, I have always been held in the palm of my hand, and no matter how difficult it is at home, I have never been short of money.
Sophomore year is coming to an end, and I really hope that my college days will turn into a phantom and disappear from my life. Tonight, I was exhausted by swiping Weibo, and the incompetent young man’s intermittent self-doubt mode was forced to turn on: I always ask myself, what’s the use of wasting time, reading novels, and watching movies? So there is me at this moment: squeeze out some words to prove that a certain period of viewing time really existed.
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