From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Monday, work, a living hell.

Lack of sleep, inexplicable irritability, I threw on a set of clothes and headed out, no time to tie a tie, buttoned up wrong, even my socks didn't match.

I went outside and discovered that my car door was severely damaged, the door panel even dented inwards. The extent of the damage could be described as an injury, and I was consumed by uncontrollable anger.

Irritation and confusion churned in my chest, and I finally looked up at the sky and silently shouted.

I angrily headed to the train station, preparing to take the train to New York, but when I saw the opposite platform, an absurd idea arose—

What if I didn't go to work today and went to Montauk instead?

“2004, Valentine's Day.

Today is a holiday invented by card companies, deliberately designed to make people feel sad.

I skipped work and took the train to Montauk. I don't know why. I'm not an impulsive person. I guess it's just because I woke up in a bad mood this morning, and I have to get the car fixed.”

The opening of the movie reveals a sense of chaos and sorrow.

Watching that scruffy, disheveled man sprint through the train station, squeezing onto the train heading in the opposite direction at the last moment, turning his back on New York, heading to the end of Long Island, escaping his terrible working life.

Logically speaking, it should be joyful and carefree.

However, it wasn't.

Endless blue, endless cold, the whispering voices in my ear revealed deep exhaustion and loss. There was no joy in skipping work to play; instead, it deeply evoked a sense of powerlessness and sighing.

Watching that slender figure walk on the beach intertwined with fine snow and strong wind, the audience sitting outdoors in Manhattan in March completely empathized, and one by one, they couldn't help but shrink their necks.

Even through the screen, they could synchronously feel the biting cold.

“This beach is freezing.

Montauk in February, genius, Joel.”

A self-deprecating remark caused a complaint to echo at the entrance of the Angelica Film Center:

“Absolutely right, Joel.”

The surrounding area was filled with laughter. Now everyone knows the male protagonist's name:

Joel.

As expected, independent films are different from commercial films. The entire atmosphere and tone are consistent. It starts with a murmuring narration and wandering like a lost soul—

Just like "Elephant."

But the audience is fully prepared, not at all surprised by such an opening, and even a little curious:

What's next?

In a romantic love movie, the next step after the male protagonist deviates from his daily routine should be meeting the female protagonist.

But who knows if Charlie Kaufman's imagination is willing to follow the established pattern?

“Were some pages torn out?” Joel sat in front of a small cabin by the beach, opened his notebook to record his feelings, but found missing pages. “I don’t remember this.”

“This is the first entry in two years.”

A man, skipping work to escape, actually sits by the beach and writes a diary?

This… is neither romantic nor dashing. No wonder Focus Features has never promoted this as a romantic love movie. The male protagonist doesn't seem charming at all, even—

Inept.

Karen leaned close to Blair and lowered her voice, “But if it was Anson, even if he was so inept, I could accept it.”

Joel tried to play with the sand, but didn't want to get his hands dirty, so he just messed around with a dead branch, breaking it into several pieces with crackling sounds.

Then, a woman appeared on the beach—

Wearing an orange coat and jeans, her whole body wrapped up like a rice dumpling; but unsurprisingly, it would indeed be difficult to achieve a fashion runway effect in Montauk in February.

The focus is that the woman put on the hood of her coat and tightened the drawstring, instantly turning her whole person into… a panda. You could vaguely see grass-like green hair fluttering in the sea breeze, and her neck was shrunk into her shoulders.

Just like the man is inept, the woman doesn't seem to be doing any better either.

But Blair and Karen exchanged a look. They both knew what was going on. The male and female protagonists were about to meet, because this panda was none other than Kate Winslet.

It's obvious, the two protagonists have met.

However, it's slightly disappointing. Charlie Kaufman's unrestrained imagination hasn't been able to play a role here. It still seems to be following the standard Hollywood romantic love formula. Is it really so?

Joel craves a new relationship, but he is too timid and introverted to even dare to talk to strangers, let alone actively flirt, even avoiding eye contact.

He tried to escape, tried to avoid, even dared not make eye contact; but his actions were too obvious, which instead made the seaweed-haired woman notice him.

She pursued his gaze, but he retreated step by step, wishing he could dig a hole and bury himself.

He hurriedly boarded the train, secretly sizing up the seaweed-haired woman across half a carriage. Joel took out his diary and started sketching in it—

It's her.

Orange coat, green hair, you can tell it's her at a glance.

Joel hid in his own world, but didn't expect her to break in.

Seizing an opportunity, their eyes accidentally met, and she took the initiative to say hello, “Hi.”

Joel froze, “Sorry?”

She gave a big smile, “I'm saying hello to you.”

Joel: … “Hi. Hello.” He greeted her in an incredibly exaggerated and chaotic way, like Donald Duck, his shy and restrained appearance causing a burst of laughter in the audience.

Unexpectedly, the seaweed-haired woman stood up directly, came to the row in front of Joel, and started chatting at close range, “Which station are you going to?”

“Rockville Centre.”

“Get out! Me too!”

“Really?”

“What are the odds?” The seaweed-haired woman seemed cheerful and bright, the frequency of her voice and the tension of her emotions making it difficult for Joel to keep up, smiling broadly, with many small movements, “Have we met before?”

So direct?

Moreover, such a cliché pickup line, shouldn't it usually be a greasy middle-aged man picking up a woman? Why has the position been reversed now?

Joel blinked his eyes in a panic, like a woman being picked up by a greasy middle-aged man but not knowing how to tell him to get lost.

The seaweed-haired woman thought seriously, “Have you ever bought books at Barnes \u0026 Noble?”

Joel nodded cautiously, “Of course.”

The seaweed-haired woman instantly brightened up and laughed cheerfully, “That's right, I must have seen you! I worked there for five whole years.”

On the contrary, Joel wasn't sure, “If you worked there, I should remember you.”

The seaweed-haired woman laughed, “It's probably the hair. I'm always changing my hair color, so you don't recognize me. It's called Heartbreak Green.”

Joel: Smiling awkwardly and politely. Help.