When you grow up, you can tell me whatever. Like, if you have a thought, and you're like, that's a bad thought, I probably had that same thought. But, like, ten times worse. So you can just tell me. I'll never be scared by that.
If someone does something bad to you, if someone says something scary, if you want to kill yourself with like a pencil or a knife or whatever, you can just tell me. I'll never tell you you're scaring me. I'll just say yeah. I know. It's just like that sometimes. Yeah. I'm sorry that bad things are going to happen to you. I hope they don't. If I can ever stop anything from being bad let me know.
But sometimes bad stuff just happens.
That's why I feel bad for you. In a way. That you're alive and you don't know that yet. But I can still listen and not be scared. So that's good. Or that's something, at least.
******
I'm not a fan of art films. I'm not a fan of "relationship" films, where the characters stumble around, not really understanding their own feelings.
Even so, you have to see this film all the way through to get the real power of the final scene. Even though it is turgidly slow, and you don't see how carefully it is done until the end.
But the final lines are an incredibly powerful statement about loss, and the inability of our society to accept the pain of those who have suffered a major trauma or distress.
No comments:
Post a Comment