Did you hear the voices of the audience in "I'm Not the God of Medicine"?

When you see the title, you may ask, what’s so nice about the audience’s voices when watching a movie? I am most afraid of any noise from the audience. I thought so too before.

But maybe it was luck. The "I'm Not the God of Medicine" I went to didn't have any loud noises from children, nor were the couples around me contributing human body barrage. All I heard was the same frequency as the audience* Exciting laughter and sobs, as well as applause at the end of the film.

Compared to searching for movie resources at home, I prefer going into the cinema to watch them, especially comedy movies. Because I like the atmosphere of continuous laughter. Sometimes the delayed burst of laughter from an audience member with a long reflex arc can cause the entire audience to burst into laughter again.

The first half of "I'm Not the God of Medicine" is a successful comedy, with dialect jokes, Chinese and English jokes, religious jokes, etc. emerging one after another with various tricks, successfully teasing the audience's laughter and igniting the entire theater.

In the laughter, I could hear everyone’s recognition of Ning Hao and Xu Zheng’s humor and the acting skills of the actors. Today, when I am numbed by Internet jokes, I can still see high-quality comedy, which makes me feel extremely happy.

Before watching the movie, I caught a glimpse of some elderly people lining up, which was unexpected but reasonable. The surprise was that it was raining that day, and they usually didn’t like to join in the fun on weekends when the venue was packed.

But from another perspective, perhaps older people with more experience will understand the heavy topic of the film more thoroughly.

In the film, an elderly person's performance made people cry. She used two speeches with completely different expressions to show the huge gap between being rescued and being rescued.

At that moment, the sobbing in the theater reached a climax. The cries all over the place conveyed our fear of poverty and disease and our helplessness in life.

When the movie ended and the lights turned on, I saw faces with tear stains. In my eyes, these faces exuded a kind of beauty.

I remember once watching a Michael Jackson documentary in a theater, a dozen of us audience members stood in the last row of the giant screen hall and collectively applauded at the end of the film to his great life.

I was so moved by that atmosphere that I burst into tears. Later, as I often went to the cinema, I never encountered such a passionate scene again.

But this time watching the movie made me deeply feel the warmth. The audience unanimously dedicated their applause to Cheng Yong, to the crew of "I'm Not the God of Medicine", and even more to those people who have paved a smooth and bright road to medical treatment for the public in real life and made arduous efforts.

Applause has gradually become a luxury in this society, because it is increasingly difficult to sincerely affirm others from the bottom of our hearts. The applause at the end of "I'm Not the God of Medicine" is precious because it is not a request from the leadership or a need for the program, but the most real affirmation from the audience.

In a dark theater, instinctively, we long for silence, but are afraid of being alone. I think we can only use our hearing to feel the presence of other viewers.

Fortunately, there is a voice that allows you to see the audience's expressions and feel their emotions. It also affects you and gives you an experience different from watching movies at home.

In a relatively small public space, it is rare to have so many people feel the same way as you, appreciating because of beauty, being indignant because of evil, laughing because of joy, and crying because of sadness.

At this time, you will feel that you are not alone at all, that there are many kind people, and that the world is still beautiful.