Movie:
Reality:
Yep, it’s uncanny!
Somebody put this article in a time capsule for posterity — this precious example of brainless, default progressive “thinking” must be preserved:
That includes male students, embodied by actor Sebastien Huberdeau’s character who is consumed by guilt because he couldn’t do more to stop the carnage or save one wounded woman he finds.
“He represents the feeling of helplessness that some people, some men, felt, who felt they didn’t do enough,” said the actor. “He’s also a victim.”
“We cannot judge them for what they have done because they didn’t know what was going on,” Vanasse said. “They didn’t even know that the killer was only trying to kill the women.
Yeah, because gender is just a social construct! When Lepine separated the “men” from the “women,” that wasn’t anybody’s first, like, clue or anything…
In an usual twist, the film is in black and white, which adds to its period look. It also enabled filmmakers to do scenes that Villeneuve said would have been “unbearable” in colour.
“Black and white gives you a poetic distance with reality,” Villeneuve explained. “I wanted the audience to feel compasion, to feel the emotions that the characters are going through, not be repulsed by the violence and the blood.”
Yeah, the 80s were totally in black and white. Remember that? It made laundry so much easier…
Sit back and bask in the sheer multi-layered asininity, crumble into a despairing lump when it hits you that this young woman will likely never meet anyone who challenges her shallow assumptions and cliches…
Then, for a much needed chaser, read Mark Steyn’s blast from the recent past:
Yet the defining image of contemporary Canadian maleness is not M Lepine/Gharbi but the professors and the men in that classroom, who, ordered to leave by the lone gunman, meekly did so, and abandoned their female classmates to their fate — an act of abdication that would have been unthinkable in almost any other culture throughout human history. The “men” stood outside in the corridor and, even as they heard the first shots, they did nothing. And, when it was over and Gharbi walked out of the room and past them, they still did nothing. Whatever its other defects, Canadian manhood does not suffer from an excess of testosterone.
We do our children a disservice to raise them to entrust all to officialdom’s security blanket. Geraldo-like “protection” is a delusion: when something goes awry — whether on a September morning flight out of Logan or on a peaceful college campus — the state won’t be there to protect you. You’ll be the fellow on the scene who has to make the decision. As my distinguished compatriot Kathy Shaidle says:
When we say “we don’t know what we’d do under the same circumstances”, we make cowardice the default position.
I’d prefer to say that the default position is a terrible enervating passivity. Murderous misfit loners are mercifully rare. But this awful corrosive passivity is far more pervasive, and, unlike the psycho killer, is an existential threat to a functioning society.
