With me, this is a movie about pain. For more than 2 hours, I saw pain as if a monster with shape, layers, and reach is insane throughout the movie. This monster began to be quiet and forbearing. This monster is familiar to us. We have lived with it for many years, and occasionally come out with rewards when we are willful. It can be controlled and resisted, and it does not affect our survival as ordinary people.
The next fatal blow will let the monster break free and engulf people at any time, but still, you can choose religion or other temporary blindfolds, even if the monster's breath and saliva are in your ears, thinking that you can deceive yourself or steal your life.
What religion can save may only be the soul. The heroine finally sinks into the great pain and begins to expose the pain recklessly. This completely presumptuous, self-inflicted pain seems so unrealistic at the moment when the heroine walks to the street to ask for help after cutting her wrists, and it intersects with ordinary life.
Asians should survive as a race that rarely breaks down, accustomed to mourning rather than pain. The Japanese even derived pain into a sense of beauty, adding pain to various coats. The pain of the masses may be regarded as solemn, while the pain of personal privacy is absolutely weak and should be despised, so you can directly see the picture of pain, really. Enjoyable.
It's fun, and how brave, I don't know how many ordinary people can completely give up self-protection and bravely immerse themselves in the world of pain, because I know I can't.
The pain turns out to be the same as the movie, even the most intimate people can't share it, or enjoy it, or bear it, it's a personal matter.
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