I finally finished watching Wolverine 3 last night. During the whole watching process, I felt extremely sad and uncomfortable, and I couldn't fall asleep after going back at night.
I can accept that the old professor died in the force storm of the Phoenix woman. I can accept that the old professor died in the robot sentry. I can also accept that the old professor died at the hands of humans.
In other words, I can accept the glorious end of his life and death.
But I really can't stand the old professor turning into my paralyzed grandfather, having no money to buy medicine, getting Alzheimer's, and repeating those long-dead memories all by myself.
I can accept that Wolverine was tortured again and again, I can accept the tragedy that Wolverine was forced to kill his beloved woman, and I can also accept the fact that he is no longer immortal.
I can accept that he is no longer a hero.
But I really can't accept that he has become a low-level laborer in the social news. He has no money to go to see him when he is sick.
No amount of terrifying ordeal that can be imagined in a superhero movie, a grand explosion can compare to the cruelty of this one in ten thousand.
Do you know what is the cruelest?
The cruelest thing is the naked truth.
The aging Wolverine makes my inner child cry like an idiot.
Back then, we were not like Wolverine, fierce and bloody, we felt that we were different, we were not worried that we would have no money to spend, and we would not be afraid of the long road ahead. Even if we were injured, we could heal quickly. Feeling lonely, we were all Wolverines back then!
But slowly, we discovered that there is another thing in this world called destiny.
Even if Wolverine is like Wolverine, he takes the risk of death to reverse the future, but he still cannot escape the cycle of fate.
We thought we changed our lives, but we didn't.
Such a deep sense of powerlessness, such a stubborn fatalism.
Wolverine's super healing ability, just like our heart. When I was young, I was constantly hurt, hurt by the people I loved, hurt by the people I didn't love, hurt by the people I loved but couldn't ask for.
But none of this matters. Heartbreaks heal quickly, and there is always a reason to keep going.
However, one day you will finally become an old Wolverine before you know it. Those once bloody wounds can't be healed again, leaving only ugly scars and stench of pus, but you have to fight again.
When you can't stand up, no one can support you.
When you can't speak, no one can understand you.
When you are tired, you are bitter, and you are desperate, there is no medicine to cure you except alcohol.
But not without a fight.
People are counting on you.
The old professor has changed from a radiant nobleman back then to a patient who is dying of old age. His dignity, his pride, his friends, his enemies are all dead.
And he hasn't.
He couldn't even go to the toilet by himself.
I have seen such a scene. many times.
When my grandfather was paralyzed due to illness, I saw an old man in his 80s burst into tears because he didn't want to excrete in front of everyone.
When my grandma couldn't get out of bed, I saw the seventy-year-old dodging in shame because she had just wet another pair of pants.
This is the real cruelty.
Because it foretells the end for each of us.
No matter how radiant you were when you were young, no matter how rich you were once, the tortures like birth, old age, sickness and death, you can still only endure them one by one.
We used to think that one day we would be different. But in the end, history doesn't just tell you, everyone is the same. And I'll tell you that the same goes for superheroes.
This is the most tragic situation the writers can give Wolverine and the X-Men.
Slowly take away everything you once had, and then let you still live like dust.
The beautiful dream of Wolverine was finally shattered. His Edman bullet did not hit him, but hit the enemy.
Yes, another enemy died.
But he is still alive.
He must die in the fight of the enemy.
Just like the professor, must also die at the hands of the enemy.
The matter of death, unable to dodge, unable to plan, can only be forced to bear.
But writers, I beg you , give them a superhero ending .
I really want to see him and the professor on the sundial, floating in the ocean, no part-time jobs, no money, just give yourself an Edman bullet when you're drunk, and smile Welcome to today's sunset.
This is the end of superheroes.
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