The beginning of the film is like a magnet, holding me firmly. Shaking subjective lens, the eye that tries hard to open, trying to see the world clearly.
His consciousness, his psychology are still alive. let. He told the female nurse in letters: I want to die. His eyes seemed to be stuck and blurred by something. Later, the stitched right eye could no longer browse the world at will. Only one left eye kept turning, up and down, left and right, hoping to see every corner clearly.
What an extravagant thing this is.
He cried. The current wife came to see him. When the lens slowly turned from clear to blurry, I realized that it was his tears that had smeared his left eye. The wife said: Don't cry.
But what can he do? What can I do to maintain my belief in survival?
He chooses to write.
writing. Is the best choice. Injecting the soul into the paper is like a kind of release and relief, so that the body is not so heavy and tired. How good. He is still alive. You can also tell the story of this life. Birth is really our happiness.
From the beginning to the end of the film, there are scenes where others communicate with him by spelling letters. They spoke the letters one by one in order, and he chose with the blink of his left eye.
Blink, it means yes. Double click to see if it is.
He retains his imagination, as well as his memory. Although his body has been stiff in the hospital bed, wheelchair, and even in the swimming pool, his heart swims in the vast world.
Father's belated call, his face was distorted with anxiety and sadness. I knew that if he could still make a sound at that moment, he would definitely cry. The father was crying on the other side of the phone, and he asked the nurse to tell his father, don't cry.
But, what else can they do.
They cry. I cry too.
Don't wait until everything is lost before regretting it and knowing that what you want to cherish is not cherished.
Live your life with all your strength.
Birth is really our happiness.
View more about The Diving Bell and the Butterfly reviews
