It's a 1978 Best Picture and five Oscar winner.
This is a film that makes me, a female viewer, try to keep her eyes fixed on the screen, but her hands are constantly shaking, the game of 'Russian Turntable' that keeps appearing in the film.
The film constantly presents two contrasts, the quiet Pennsylvania and the small town of Clairton in Asia and the continuous rain in the smoke of Vietnam.
What impresses me deeply is not the heroic Michael in Vietnam, the brave veteran who returned to his hometown and released him when he was hunting deer. It's Nick, a visible and invisible hand, a backlog of war, and a Nick who gave up himself in despair.
Nick escaped from an island from the hands of the Vietnamese, and was sent to the hospital. Looking at the photo, looking at the disabled companion, I was asked the name of my mother, but couldn't say it. We can see that his body is still there, but his soul may have been severely mutilated. He was walking on the crowded streets of Saigon, and nothing caught his interest. The only thing that excited him was seeing a stranger who looked like Michael.
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