The Alcohol Project Expecting alcohol to boost life is the same as expecting a mask to save wrinkles.
Most of the scenes in this film are familiar to me to the point of tears and laughter. On the one hand, there is the socially repressive nature of alcohol: the day after I started school, the department had a speed dating to break the ice, I took a few beers over and introduced myself to the person across the room while drinking, and the next day there was a rumor about “the drunk Chinese girl” Come on, beer. On the other hand, there was an extreme need for release in the name of alcohol in a private sense: P and his friends had a regular party where they danced to random music after three rounds of drinking, eliminating each round and choosing the king of the dance, how to flirt, how to be flirty, how to be crazy, how to be crazy, just like the last scene of this movie, what with the cartwheels, Thomas full spins, and the Jenga. Sometimes I also participate. But since I was always the only female dancer, I gradually stopped participating. I even saw a simplified version of the Lake Race scene in front of the KUA cafeteria, where there was a man-made river and I sometimes sunbathed there. One afternoon, while I was goofing off, a group of young people were drinking and running, running and taking off their clothes. That was the first time I saw a completely naked person in a public place.
In Scandinavia, where there is no hotpot and no shabu-shabu, getting drunk is probably the only moment when you can reasonably and legally escape society’s expectation of propriety At 40, you’ll be accused by students at school of scoring too low a grade to make it easy for them to advance to higher education, and you’ll come home to a wife who will tell you to buy diapers and formula. That’s all you’ll ever be in society. In the wave of neoliberalism, all subcultures are harvested, all individual experiences are regulated – where once you could chant about blood and inches, now your chanting becomes a dazzling spectacle, a tool for the reproduction of inequality. You are banished into a small world where you can do whatever you want. As for – Hello? Now there is no institution that provides the answer except religion. And religion is getting more and more careful to withdraw from public space. So whether in the movies or in life, rebellion and disappointment, either by taking “Joker”-style indiscriminate violence, or by tossing their bodies around – the three pieces of the Nordic movie set: getting drunk and ripping X, getting high, and running naked/in a bathrobe. After all, modern people are not the Greek heroes who can fight and die tragically, they can only dominate their own flesh that is decaying fast.
So “The Alcoholic Project” can be a serious story about the Nordic high school teacher, and the quiet years, but also to let a kind of domineering spirit of alcohol overflow during the final also to a feathered and immortal, I have to shout a, Wintersberger, old hot. Old spicy, and cruel. In the sweet breath of alcohol, even death is a bit intoxicated. Chang’e should regret stealing the elixir, the blue sea and the blue sky night heart. When Tommy pressed Martin’s shoulder and said he was behind Martin and Anika, I knew – it was over, he was going to kill himself, he was leaving. I have pressed my ex’s shoulders like this countless times, but the broken must not be pieced together by the outside world; everyone’s life is everyone’s life.
Alcohol adds a rose-colored filter to life. Alcohol allows tired people to connect with others again. High school students who like to play with their phones find Martin, who has a deadly face every day, turns out to be very insightful, and a wife who is silently cheating finds Martin can hear her again. Alcohol enters the bloodstream, allowing the approving glances and sexual attraction to creep back into the flow. But it’s all for a moment. Powerlessness is the everyday. Counting on alcohol to lift life is the same as expecting a mask to save wrinkles. As I did the other day when I spent the night drinking vodka with P and his friend. The next day we had a splitting headache. After that the three of us fell ill one after another, all with fevers for a week. I don’t think I’ll ever drink vodka again in my life.
So what’s left? Probably only the hypocrisy of knowing. A middle-aged bar was a good choice. I lived on Amager Island at the time, a working-class neighborhood with no decent bars, but rather the middle-aged and elderly bars that appear in this film. Young people go to the bar is a wild dance low-cost tease girl Han, girls are more than one hot, high heels pointed heels let me somehow suspense; middle-aged bar is a parental weather. The older brothers are drinking beer while watching soccer, sometimes playing foosball. When I was too lazy to go to the city, I also went to these bars, although when I got high and pulled the next seat to dance, no one would respond, but silently observe how middle-aged men still try to molest middle-aged women, observe the old brothers holding glasses of wine to each other rainbow farts, there is a kind of, today I got some knowledge, not a waste of life – the illusion.
At the end of this film, Martin’s wife texted to say, I miss you too. But will they get back together? No. I can even imagine Martin’s wife at the moment, via ex-depression, immediately wanting to rebuild the bond. But in the midst of nothing, the desire for freedom is one’s last shame. How could she tear it away and turn back?
After watching The Alcohol Project, P and a friend made a little video of him dancing in the forest, ripping off his tie and tearing off his suit while dancing. I asked him, “You are a mixture of sleep beauty and hunger artist, aren’t you? I asked him, “You are afraid that in 10 years you will be scolded by your wife for not being able to take care of your children, like Nikolaj here. The truth is, we can neither be saved by a prince like Sleeping Beauty, nor can we be satisfied with an artwork like a hunger artist. We can only drink and dance like Martin on the right occasion for the right reason dance, dance, dance, never ending.