This director is vindictive.

Chen Mo's last film must be a good film!

Even if it isn't, it still is!
This is a widely accepted fact within the industry.

You could say that as long as this movie isn't a piece of crap, it's a good movie.

So what's the movie like?

As a director, Chen Mo is often blinded by his own perspective, while an observer sees things more clearly. He certainly can't give a self-evaluation, but at least he thinks it's above average.

Zhou Xiaobin can be considered a staunch supporter and film critic of Chen Mo.

He was a film critic columnist on Douban in his early years, and his first professional review of Chen Mo's film was "The Shallows"!
Later, he gradually became a fan of Chen.

Of course, the main reason is that Chen Mo's films are indeed quite remarkable.

Today, Zhou Xiaobin has become a well-known and senior film critic in the industry, running his own self-media account.

He had actually been following Chen Mo's last film for a long time.

This is because it's a genre that Chen Mo excels at: realism. The earliest realism film he directed was "Caught in the Web." This film not only impressed many people with Gao Yuanyuan's stunning portrayal of Ye Lanqiu, but it was also the first domestic film to extend the film's ending into real life.

Because of this movie, the biggest cyberbullying case back then is still listed as a guiding case for cyberbullying cases by the Supreme People's Procuratorate!

Then came Chen Mo's "Dying to Survive," which needs no further introduction. This film broke box office records for realistic films, achieving both box office success and critical acclaim, and can be considered a masterpiece of its genre. Even after all these years, it remains the highest-rated film among all of Chen Mo's works.

Then Chen Mo filmed "Life's Big Events," this time focusing his lens on the sensitive topic of "death," which few dare to touch.

The subsequent Article 20 also generated a huge response, drawing renewed attention to the often-overlooked legal provision on "legitimate self-defense."

Chen Mo's later works, such as "The Vanished Woman" and "All or Nothing," were both filmed closely related to the most popular social events at the time. It can be said that every realist work by Chen Mo has accurately hit the societal pain points.

Zhou Xiaobin was more excited about Chen Mo's last film than any other, because this one focuses on the issue of domestic violence, which has frequently sparked social discussion in recent years.

Domestic violence cases have emerged one after another in recent years, but dealing with them has been extremely difficult.

Chinese people have always believed that "harmony in the family brings prosperity" and "family scandals should not be aired in public." They even think that "quarrels at the head of the bed are resolved at the foot of the bed." These ideas are not wrong in themselves, but the problem is that it is precisely these traditional ideas that make many domestic violence cases difficult to resolve.

The law clearly states that domestic violence is a crime! However, in practice, it always encounters various obstacles.

When victims are concerned about their family's reputation, fear social pressure, or worry about their economic independence, they often choose to remain silent.

The public often holds the attitude that "even an upright official finds it difficult to settle family disputes," leading to repeated domestic violence incidents that even escalate.

That's why Chen Mo's film is so highly anticipated. It's not just about a social phenomenon; it has the potential to use the power of film to make more people truly realize that domestic violence is not a private family matter, but a violent crime! Only by breaking the silence can we truly protect the victims and change the status quo.

As for whether it will be a bad movie? It's highly unlikely.

Because that's Chen Mo, known as the director in China who is best at making realistic films.

The scene on the screen slowly unfolds—the first thing to appear on the big screen is a wedding!
Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows of the church, casting golden dappled patterns on the bride's white dress. She walked arm-in-arm with her father down the aisle, her skirt brushing against the fallen rose petals with a soft rustling sound.

The groom stood before the altar, impeccably dressed in a black suit and tie, a satisfied smile on his face.

His gaze followed the bride intently, his eyes burning with intensity that seemed to pierce through the veil.

As the bride approached, he eagerly stepped forward and reached out to grasp her fingertips—the camera zoomed in on his white-knuckled fingers, gripping Lin Xiu's ring finger, adorned with her wedding ring, like an iron clamp.

Applause and whistles erupted from the guests.

The bride's best friend wiped her eyes and exclaimed, "May you be happy!"

The groom's brothers raised their champagne glasses and roared with laughter: "Brother Zhen is so lucky!"

Both sets of parents sat side by side in the front row, the mothers pressing their reddened eyes with handkerchiefs.

The pastor began reciting the vows, and the groom, Zhang Zhen, shouted eight octaves higher than usual, "I do!"

He practically shouted it out, the veins on his temples bulging slightly. When it was the bride Lin Xiu's turn to answer, she had just whispered "I do" when Zhang Zhen suddenly interrupted her with a passionate kiss.

The guests gave a good-natured jeer, but no one noticed that the bride's eyelashes trembled nervously as she was embraced around the waist.

Ribbons and sequins cascaded down from the ceiling, resembling a gentle snowfall in slow motion.

Zhang Zhenheng picked up Lin Xiu and spun her around. Her veil got caught on the crystal chandelier—a soft tearing sound was drowned out by the climax of the wedding march.

This opening scene surprised many people, but also inexplicably evoked a sense of melancholy.

Because the theme of this movie is "domestic violence," everyone understands that this opening actually hides many details.

For example, the personalities of the bride and groom are already revealed during the wedding ceremony.

However, all of this was drowned out by cheers and blessings.

The real skill lies in the details.

Suddenly, the background music changed completely, from the originally joyous wedding atmosphere to a dark and somber tone.

A somber funeral was held in the rain. Under the black and white filter, the silent faces of the mourners and the swaying edges of their umbrellas created a somber rhythm. The camera panned across the portrait in the center of the hall, freezing a gentle yet weary female face in the frame.

The camera slowly pans across each of the funeral guests, occasionally giving close-ups of the best friend who had once shouted "Be happy!", now wearing a black dress with reddened eyes.
The emcee's eulogy was drowned out by the sound of rain.

The stark contrast between a wedding and a funeral, this shift, can be described as very bold; if not handled well, it can easily fall into cliché.

The bride's parents burst into tears at this moment.

The tears were the same, but they expressed completely different emotions compared to the tears shed at her wedding.

"I should have realized this sooner. It's all my fault, my fault! If only..." the bride's mother murmured, blaming herself.

The scene flashes back.

That day, she received a tearful phone call from her daughter, which was during their honeymoon.

She tearfully recounted on the phone that he smashed the camera in public simply because she was "too slow" in taking photos.

She felt wronged, but her mother only comforted and advised her over the phone. "You've only just gotten married, don't be so willful. Marriage requires mutual understanding and tolerance. Talk it out and treat each other well."

That evening, in the scene showing the groom kneeling and apologizing in a hotel under the cover of night.

She called to say they had made up.

The mother smiled with relief.

The father's face looked exceptionally old in the rain, his wrinkles deep and etched like knife cuts. He held his wife's trembling shoulders tightly, his withered fingers almost tearing her thin dress. His wife leaned against him, silently weeping, her tears soaking his faded old shirt.

His gaze was fixed on his daughter's photograph—a picture taken when she graduated from university, wearing her graduation gown, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons with a smile. But now the photograph was framed in black gauze and placed in the very center of the mourning hall.

It flashes back and forth amidst the turmoil of the sea.

His daughter, wearing rubber duck boots, splashed around in puddles, getting him covered in mud. He pretended to be angry and glared at her, but the next second he lifted her high above his head and listened to her giggle nonstop.

She had a high fever of 40 degrees Celsius, and he carried her three kilometers to the hospital overnight. When the nurse gave her an injection, she cried so hard she could barely breathe. He told her to bite his wrist, and when the needle was pulled out, she first touched the teeth marks on her father's hand and asked, "Does it hurt?"

She got into a top university, and before she left, she secretly replaced all his torn socks with new ones. As the train started moving, she clung to the window and shouted, "Dad, smoke less!" He chased after the train for more than ten meters, agreeing verbally, but then turned around and hid behind a platform pillar to wipe his eyes.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the photo, his nails digging deep into his palms, oblivious to the blood seeping through the lines. A wild, animalistic sob escaped his throat: "My fault, my fault! I should have just killed that bastard!"

The screen flashes back.

Once, he went to see his daughter and grandson with some things, only to find his daughter running out crying.

He noticed the bruises on his daughter's face, and in a fit of rage, he rushed in and started punching and kicking his son-in-law.

She even picked up a knife to kill him, but her daughter held her tightly.

After the funeral, Lin Xiu's best friend slumped onto a bench outside the mourning hall, tears mingling with the rain streaming down her face. She clutched the silk scarf Lin Xiu had given her for her birthday last year, the fabric crumpling between her fingers like the desperate cries for help she had extinguished with her own hands—(flashback)

In the coffee shop, as Lin Xiu pushed the coffee cup over, her sleeve slipped down, revealing purplish-black finger marks on her wrist.

Her best friend's breath hitched, but then she heard Lin Xiu laughing as she stirred ice with a straw, saying, "I want a divorce."

Her best friend grabbed her hand, and half of a silk scarf slipped out of her bag—it was the one they'd bought together last week while shopping. "Don't be silly!"

Her best friend lowered her voice considerably, glancing at the customers at the next table: "Your child is only in elementary school. How will you survive if you get divorced? Besides..."

She suddenly pulled down Lin Xiu's sleeve to cover the bruises and said with a hint of exasperation, "You're just a pushover. He's strong because you're weak. He dares to bully you like this because you're too easy to bully. You should become stronger. If he hits you, you should hit him back. You can't beat him when he's awake, but you can still deal with him when he's asleep."

Lin Xiu stared at the half-melted ice cube, water droplets sliding down the glass like a belated tear.

At the end, everything is the memory of the old lady next door.

The long shot follows her up the stairs, and on each floor, you can hear couples arguing. Finally, it stops in front of Lin Xiu's house—inside, there are sounds of dishes breaking, and outside, there is a fruit basket that she put down and then picked up again.

The interrogation room was cold and damp, the incandescent light glaring. Zhang Zhen's hands were clasped together, his knuckles white.

The police pushed the medical report in front of him—Lin Xiu had three broken ribs and was permanently deaf in his right ear.

Police officer: "Explain these injuries."

Zhang Zhen suddenly exclaimed excitedly, "I just love her too much!"

"You don't understand! I swore to protect her on our wedding day."

In slow motion, his trembling hands cupped Lin Xiu's face, with "Wedding in a Dream" playing in the background. He said tenderly, "I want to protect you for the rest of my life!"

That was his vow.

But the next moment, the music stopped abruptly, replaced by a phone notification sound. He furiously grabbed Lin Xiu by the neck, and the camera panned down—his distorted face was reflected in her pupils, and the wedding photo swayed on the wall.

Back in the interrogation room, he suddenly opened his collar to reveal scratches.

"Look! She caught it! She always uses my child's grades to provoke me!"

But in his memory flashback, he saw his wife, Lin Xiu, hiding the report card in the drawer, and he smashing a teacup, saying, "A doting mother spoils her son!"

A child's perspective through the crack in the door—Lin Xiu is kneeling, picking up scraps of paper, when he pulls her hair and slams her against the coffee table. A close-up of the report card as glass shards fly: First in the class.

Zhou Xiaobin quickly took notes in the dark:
1. "Are wedding vows a license for violence? The opening close-up of the ring juxtaposed with a funeral creates a sharp critique of the institution of marriage."

2. "Chen Mo once again used the social event slice method: the neighbor's fruit basket, the unanswered phone call from the Women's Federation, are all part of a systemic silent conspiracy."

As the flashback progresses to the night of Lin Xiu's death, the camera shoots from a ceiling-view perspective:

She huddled in the bathroom, her phone screen lit up with a draft of the divorce papers, while the mirror reflected her husband approaching with a vase in hand—

The scene went dark, followed by the sound of someone falling. At the funeral, the guests all looked up, as if they had heard that muffled thud.

Zhou Xiaobin noticed that the director used mirrored composition to emphasize the contrast:

The reflections of mourners at the funeral were distorted in the puddles, mirroring Zhang Zhen's fractured profile reflected in the interrogation room glass. As the flashback progressed to the ending, Lin Xiu's fall, fragments of all the guests' memories overlapped like pieces of a puzzle—

On a stormy night, Lin Xiu finally raised her knife, but then dropped it in despair after hearing her child cry. She turned and fled to the rooftop. Zhang Zhen slipped as he chased after her and instinctively grabbed her clothes. The camera panned down to film their hands dangling in mid-air. The music stopped abruptly, leaving only the sound of rain.

The film ends in court, with the abuser—the husband—in the dock.

The same group of people were sitting in the spectator seats.

The judge struck the gavel.

The final judgment was left open-ended, without providing an ending.

After the event, Zhou Xiaobin wrote the following title in his column:

From Wedding to Funeral: When Chen Mo Uses Reverse Chronology to Unravel the Time Lies of Domestic Violators

The article specifically mentions: "'Happy Beginning' makes violence even more painful - we always mistakenly believe that evil deeds need to be foreshadowed, but this movie proves that the seeds of evil had already sprouted under the wedding dress."

"Domestic Violence" uses a flashback narrative to deconstruct the logic of violence, revealing that everyone inside and outside the trial is an accomplice. Those admonitions to "endure for the sake of the family" were already tacitly agreed upon before that death. (End of Chapter)