Watched Decision To Leave by Park Chan-wook and gotta say, it's so good… But first, I watched other film.
The Room by Tommy Wiseau. I know what you are thinking: "What are you, a turtle?", I know, I'm very slow with things… So, you know what I've been expecting from it, with it?
Actually an interesting movie. To my disappointment, it was just bad. It was so bad it had, what, seven sex scenes to keep you engaged… Really? I never had one, how can I find this interesting? I swear, this movie directors think all what a thinking man ever thought is the female human vegana. Ok, they aren't that much far off from the truth.
Let me get this straight: I have never seen a man with a voice so flat in my life. Tommy, he is a guy who might look you straight in the eyes, looking all tensed up, like a without five minutes convinced criminal or an most merciless gangster ready to rob the last grandma on far away islands no one know ever existed and say "hey, bro, I care about you deeply, I heard you had a bad time lately: Can't afford the dollar menu at McD's. Let me help you" and drives you straight to the nearest me Maccies and buy you two kid's menu. A guy so wholesome could not exist in a perfect world. But this is not a perfect world.
Then they play football. No, not the soccer, no, it's America, the only thing they kick in their passtime is their kids, and if that isn't enough… The wife would be fine too. So, don't feel weird about the weird shaped ball and it's strange application, sometimes you've got up with a group of bros to throw a ball, helps you to relax and have fun with bros. At one point in time I thought that the film would be fine if they just threw the ball left and right, but.
Misogyny? Really? In my milk porrige? I watched the film to the end, with a pulse measuring device on my hand because I thought I might get my heart stopped by such high dislike and distaste potrayed of women. I'm a young guy, but with an old heart: I will shoot a man without asking if I have to, without any evidence of an afterimage on my face, but the second I have to endure the blatant prejudice against women my face becomes bleak, white cream color clean even if I were a negro, my hands become sweaty, my voice won't come out of my mouth. I want to scream, but each time I try, no sound will come out. And at that exact moment I finally understand the meaning of resigning. I try to scream more, more, and with each time my chest
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