I watched Battle After Another.

The reviews were sharply divided, some praised it, others dismissed it outright.

At first, I thought it was simply a matter of different perspectives. Later, I realized it wasn’t that simple. People weren’t standing at different angles. They were stopping at different moments.

Some viewers only stayed with the first half— the chaos, the roughness, the impatience. The uneven rhythm, the abrasive emotions, characters that felt hard to approach. They stopped there, made up their minds, and walked away.

I stayed.

Slowly, it became clear that what felt uncomfortable wasn’t a flaw, but a deliberate friction, a space intentionally left unresolved.

The “unwatchable” first half was quietly forcing the viewer to abandon ready-made interpretations. The more you rushed to extract meaning, the more restless you became.

Then the second half began to unfold. Fragments that once felt like noise started to align.

That’s when I saw it clearly: it wasn’t chaotic I was impatient. It wasn’t lacking structure. The structure simply hadn’t arrived yet.

By the time the film ended, something subtle had shifted inside me. Dislike turned into understanding. Understanding softened into appreciation.

Not because the film tried to please me, but because I had walked the distance it demanded.

That was when I realized, this is how many things in life work. Turning points don’t always happen within events themselves, but in whether we are willing to stay a little longer.

We are quick to stop at discomfort, using judgment as self-protection.
But some forms of understanding live just beyond impatience.

Not every moment of chaos needs immediate correction. Some roughness exists so you can stand more firmly later on.

After the turning point, the world doesn’t become simpler. Only the position changes.

And that position can only be reached by those willing to see things through.


—— XC Scribbles · 貳 II 🎬