The prognosis of a maturing vampire baffles a security guard in the hopes of a cure. They say the human body stops growing at the age of twenty-five (25) that, the suspecting infection heightens its symptoms as Jacob is on the final stages of vampiric metamorphosis.
Insidiously compelling, the first stage is denial, then there's struggle, and lastly, one most feared, acceptance. This is not a typical vampire movie. No sir. The personification is so human that the film bites on the suggestion of an infection, a medical condition brought about by, my guess, genetics (They didn't show Jacob's history to leave room for retrospective imagination but left an element that produced such effect). He lived with it for so long in his basement apartment - the torture of sunlight is still a powerful attribute of their kind - painting sunrises and sunsets for which he has missed obsequiously since birth. He's alive but not exactly living.
Until one night he falls in love with a girl who sells blow pops (it's like lollipop but with gum inside). He sank his teeth - no fangs; again, it's as human as possible - to a relationship that baffles the cocaine-sniffing bartendress. "I know who you are." a famous line from the The Twilight Saga becomes "Wow, you're like a vampire." because one, she believed the poor man who got the "rare skin disease" when presented with a severely scarred arm. Two, she probably has lived her life seeing the worst of times, exposed to harsh reality too often too much, that the supernatural is out of her conscious and unconscious interest. Curiosity didn't just kill the cat, but lives.
Survival is like a bat without ultrasonic hearing, blue-collar Jacob must give in and supply his body's savage needs, renouncing morality in the name of life and love, whatever - bluntly whoever - it takes.
It's not always about the cast or the commercialization of the film that persuades Russovoir to watch. It has always been about the story, the twist, and the hairs on one's back standing up even after the movie. Independent films like Midnight Son demands a panegyric.
Until one night he falls in love with a girl who sells blow pops (it's like lollipop but with gum inside). He sank his teeth - no fangs; again, it's as human as possible - to a relationship that baffles the cocaine-sniffing bartendress. "I know who you are." a famous line from the The Twilight Saga becomes "Wow, you're like a vampire." because one, she believed the poor man who got the "rare skin disease" when presented with a severely scarred arm. Two, she probably has lived her life seeing the worst of times, exposed to harsh reality too often too much, that the supernatural is out of her conscious and unconscious interest. Curiosity didn't just kill the cat, but lives.
Survival is like a bat without ultrasonic hearing, blue-collar Jacob must give in and supply his body's savage needs, renouncing morality in the name of life and love, whatever - bluntly whoever - it takes.
It's not always about the cast or the commercialization of the film that persuades Russovoir to watch. It has always been about the story, the twist, and the hairs on one's back standing up even after the movie. Independent films like Midnight Son demands a panegyric.
No comments:
Post a Comment