I've seen the original, "Fahrenheit 451," at least half a dozen times; I wonder if I'll see this that many. I'd stack this right alongside that. I found it deeply moving, but then I've lost someone close and it's prolly natural to access our own grief when we see someone else who is struggling with their own.
I have two questions, and if I find their answers elsewhere I'll edit in down below: 1. What did Mika say to Yang in Mandarin when she visited his empty room? 2. Did it seem like he ran out of memory, but wasn't willing to sacrifice any of his old memories? And, did it seem that was the cause of his, "off state?"
I hope, if this future happens that we do better at acknowledging them as part of our family -- funerals are for the survivors, and grief should be allowed. However, as much as it bothers me in retrospect that clones and bots have such a diminished status in society, while watching it i was simply caught up in the beauty of the idea their adopted son had two or three seconds a day to record what was important to him...what would it be?
Edit, one month after watching: This film continues to haunt me. Instead of thinking of how much more engaged the father has become, I continue to focus on Yang's POV. When he spotted the clone of the woman he'd previously known -- I think that must've been the closest he could've come to being happy. When he confided ("Can I be honest with you?") that he was okay if there was nothing afterwards, he was ready...he didn't look forward to, "dying," or whatever, but he'd come to understand his situation,knew what he meant to his charge, knew he was running out of storage space...could see the end was coming, and was at peace with it.
I'm reminded of the closing speech by Robert Redford at the end of, "A River Runs Through It," except Yang knows he'll be survived by a couple of People close to him.
Review by VWFringe the Pervy Sage from TVMuseBlockedParent2022-04-27T15:51:52Z— updated 2022-05-22T18:49:30Z
Don't read this until you've seen it...
I've seen the original, "Fahrenheit 451," at least half a dozen times; I wonder if I'll see this that many. I'd stack this right alongside that. I found it deeply moving, but then I've lost someone close and it's prolly natural to access our own grief when we see someone else who is struggling with their own.
I have two questions, and if I find their answers elsewhere I'll edit in down below:
1. What did Mika say to Yang in Mandarin when she visited his empty room?
2. Did it seem like he ran out of memory, but wasn't willing to sacrifice any of his old memories? And, did it seem that was the cause of his, "off state?"
I hope, if this future happens that we do better at acknowledging them as part of our family -- funerals are for the survivors, and grief should be allowed. However, as much as it bothers me in retrospect that clones and bots have such a diminished status in society, while watching it i was simply caught up in the beauty of the idea their adopted son had two or three seconds a day to record what was important to him...what would it be?
Edit, one month after watching:
This film continues to haunt me. Instead of thinking of how much more engaged the father has become, I continue to focus on Yang's POV. When he spotted the clone of the woman he'd previously known -- I think that must've been the closest he could've come to being happy. When he confided ("Can I be honest with you?") that he was okay if there was nothing afterwards, he was ready...he didn't look forward to, "dying," or whatever, but he'd come to understand his situation,knew what he meant to his charge, knew he was running out of storage space...could see the end was coming, and was at peace with it.
I'm reminded of the closing speech by Robert Redford at the end of, "A River Runs Through It," except Yang knows he'll be survived by a couple of People close to him.