I spent the last ten days thinking about this one. Ten days fighting the urge to rewatch it because it felt too soon. Now I just think I didn’t rewatch it soon enough.
I’ve been going through reviews trying to understand the divisiveness on people’s thoughts on
Hoard & I’ve yet to find anything to make sense of the negative responses other than some people are just too confined to their own perception of life, grief, trauma and love.
As for me thought, the chance to learn and understand things beyond my personal comprehension is exactly what I love most about movies.
I honestly don’t think there’s a singular thing I’d point out about this piece that I didn’t absolutely adore.
Growing up, Maria (
Lily-Beau Leach /
Saura Lightfoot-Leon) learned about love. She never learned about being truly cared for. This love she knew, however, was toxic, and in some ways, even degrading.
So, when she met Michael (
Joseph Quinn), she found comfort in their poisonous dynamic. Him being as messed up as she is, gave her a sense of freedom to unleash her wild and animalistic nature, and Michael, instead of putting constraints upon the situation, enabled it, giving Maria a sense of shelter from the outside world’s adverse perspective on love.
Michael: Why do you always look at me like I’m gonna tell you to stop me.Fast forwarding a bit, we’re met with a scene where she asks Michael to help her recreate the iron burn injury she suffered as a child, purposefully this time. He does.
We can now clearly see how distorted her views on love and pleasure are, as she mistakenly thinks pain and pleasure should & go hand in hand.
There’s also this particular scene, more towards the end, Maria is walking around carrying her little drum kit and she happens to come across Michael. This one line she says has been completely engraved in my mind.
Maria: It’s not for you.That’s it. So simple. Nothing crazy or particular about this sentence. Except, it symbolizes her journey with grief.
*I’ve come to realize grief will never heal over time. It simply disguises itself in things. She disguised herself in things.
Some of my memories are vivid and some are more like dreams. They dip and dive, even changing too. But it’s okay, I remember now. I can hear her.
The catalogue of love has found me once more, and I guess it never left.
We are the kings of the castle. And you lot, you’re the dirty rascals.*
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