Quentin is a genius, and he totally deserves all the overwhelming compliments. When revenge, love, and motherhood are intertwined with blood and death, they are rushing to a dizzying peak like a tide, and no one can make a black and white judgment and choice between good and evil.
He used the camera to tear open the wound that no one wants to face, painful and warm, regretful and grateful, roaring and calm. All the banter, the absurdity, and the sculpting finally became the foreshadowing to erase an unforgettable feeling.
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