说实话，一开始看我是看不下去的，在我的记忆里我是看过这部电影的解说的。我在潜意识里就觉得能拿来做解说的电影是不够好的，或者说是很俗的。但是当我第二次接着上次没看完的部分看的时候，才觉得那句话说的一点都没错。实践才会出真理，凡是客观世界的事，我们都得自身经历...  (展开)

相传数百年以前，一群渔民在海上遇到大风浪，绝望之际看到火光和召唤，一对老人招待了他们并赠送了食物，问及小岛，老翁笑答：“老朽姓刘，此乃刘家岛”。后渔民再寻，未果，像是陶渊明笔下的桃花源。渔民遂建刘公庙，后岛被称“刘公岛”。“数百年”一定不是一百年，不然刘姓老翁也好阻止那个在岛上自杀的后辈刘步蟾。1895年2月10日，刘步蟾炸毁了自己在德国督造的“定远舰”，而后服毒自尽，“舰亡与亡，志节凛然，无愧舍生取义”。

想来已经是120年前的事情了，然而历史并没有离我们远去。由刘全玮导演的电影《大变局之梦回甲午》于2014年秋季在威海刘公岛成功开机，重现了甲午战争时期北洋海军将士们在晚清大变局中悲壮惨烈的一生，跨越百年历史，深刻剖析了晚清在甲午战争中失败的惨痛教训。从清末甲午到二零一五，从紫禁城到刘公岛，几代人的命运沉浮，一个民族的大落大起，影片通过一个美术专业研究生江海心（赵育莹饰演）的画笔和一本《甲午之恋》的小说，把晚晴大变局中爱新觉罗氏溥远和蒙古格格云娜的爱情与个人“扶大厦于将倾”而不能的悲壮进行了浓墨重彩的描画，也描绘出当代青年海军在风云激荡的世界时事中洞察危机的忧患意识和以国为家、保家卫国的使命感。更让人兴奋和震撼的是，中国航母辽宁号首次登陆银幕，值得期待。

电影根据军旅作家宗潭的文学作品《甲午之恋》改编，是一部高清数字主旋律励志电影作品，也是近两年唯一获有关部门审批的关于“甲午战争”重大历史题材电影。“梦回甲午”，其实是江海心奶奶讲述她奶奶的故事，冯小宁导演的《一八九四 甲午大海战》（2012年）也是通过后辈讲述前辈的故事。如何触摸历史，如何感悟历史，如何走进历史，这是当代人必须面对的。江海心决定像溥远一样，当年从紫禁城到刘公岛，她从北京来到威海。那个她以为是风景的地方曾经就是战场，战火纷飞，哭喊漫天，最后尸横遍海，血染苍空。一个画家的画笔或许能涂抹出日出、晚霞、海鸥、浪漫的图景，然而如果没有历史的沧桑和民族的气概，永远不能震撼人心。

这时候，江海心遇到了海军学员叶楠，两人也算“不打不相识”。阴差阳错，叶楠需要配合江海心完成“甲午海祭”的纪念作品。两人出现了在民族大义、历史使命与个人情感、儿女情长之间的看起来不可调和的矛盾，江海心以为时代变了，那些所谓“抛弃妻子”“舍生取义”都是过去的事情。然而时代变了，有些人的使命没有变，因为历史从未离我们而去，而如果我们不顾历史，也必将被历史的车轮碾压。

 从一百二十年前的定远号、致远号到如今的辽宁舰，我们终于有了属于自己的航空母舰。定远号是德国坦特伯雷度的伏尔铿造船厂建造，致远号是英国阿姆斯特朗船厂建造，辽宁舰由中国海军改造、改进，电影《大变局之梦回甲午》以现实叩响历史的警钟，正如电影总顾问孙大发上将所说，用甲午战争惨败的教训为当代人追逐中国梦和强军梦淬火鼓劲，旗帜鲜明地告诉当代军人：我们走进甲午，就是为了走出甲午，腐败必亡，弱军必败，怯战必溃！

这篇影评可能有剧透 荒野求生的戏码层出不穷，都是在极端环境下给予角色压迫，让他们在众多“两难”境遇里，卸下平日的面具，在文明和野蛮之间摇摆，最终作出人性的选择。最近一部低调的“极地”好片《北极》（Arctic）让胖哥眼前一亮，看完后久久陷入其中，思绪良多，难以安眠。 不同于内地电影，...  (展开)

这篇影评可能有剧透 嗨 大家好 我是笔芯 今天跟大家聊一部 漫改真人电影《三次元女友》 男主是一个标准的宅男 沉迷二次元 对现实有严重的逃避倾向 但为人温柔善良 跟我一样是个好人 这一天男主去老师那顶包受罚 惩罚内容竟然是跟校花女主打扫泳池 因为男主从来没跟女孩相处过 动手动脚的两人就掉水...  (展开)

邦妮与克劳德


将有一个陌生人的梦来替我们记下
刹那星斗般的弹孔，还有
林林总总被偷汽车的型号、爱的
汽缸数量――我们最终的速度。

前进，在一家家非法进入的房子里
我们是法外之徒，黑油漏出，中午
我听见水壶在厨房爆炸了。

它流出夏天的银河，火花
擦过，轮子卷起北美荒野一条条
无人收拾的公路――枪，抵着你咽喉。

斑鸠、惊起、斑卓琴伴舞，
邦妮与克劳德在我们的黑衬衣下
兀自跳他们阿拉巴马月光之舞。
死之舞――当我们年轻，我戴着单面眼镜

贴你耳边说：“一起过一种
疯狂的生活吧？”将有一个陌生人的梦
来替我们记下，当我们年轻
那时，世界包围了我们：枪声如雨，

我们不打算逃走。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　2002.8.1.

这篇影评可能有剧透 日剧里的木的元素冢具真的温暖。很喜欢简单的木家具，拍的也是不惊不乱中透着浓浓的温情。剧中的餐桌，餐具很有味道，做美食、品美食的，那种感觉很不见了。每天我们都好像很匆忙，连吃也是，真佩服那些天天做好吃的豆友。影片调色泛着淡淡的黄色气息，不夸张，甚至没有什么背...  (展开)

这篇影评可能有剧透 哲学上有三个经典而终极的问题，从唯物主义的角度来概括，看似这样： 1、如何更好的认识宇宙世界，并解决关于宇宙的问题。 2、如何更好的认识人类社会，并解决关于人类的问题。 3、如何更好的认识自我人生，并解决关于人生的问题。 体现在唯心主义的角度则是这样： 1、我是谁？...  (展开)

带有很浓重的话剧色彩，开了全程弹幕，发现很多人不理解，而且口出恶言，让我很是伤心，作为一个学习了三年话剧表演的学生来说，自己所学习的东西不能被人们所接受所理解，甚至被辱骂贬低，我心里很难受，很想给他们科普一下这种艺术表达方式，却因为才疏学浅无从开口，更是自...  (展开)

冲着男主来的，看完确实不让人感冒。一开始感觉题材还算新颖，可惜看了一会就落了俗套，跟僵尸电影区别不大，只不过攻击力强一点，传染能力差一点。情节也不紧凑，看会基本就要快进一下。没啥悬念地看到最后，点了右上角。完全没有当初看完致命ID后的引人入胜的紧张感和刺激感...  (展开)

The Lost City of Z is a very long way from a true story — and I should know
A new Hollywood film hypes Percy Fawcett as a great explorer. In fact, he was a racist incompetent who achieved very little

The new film The Lost City of Z is being advertised as based on the true story of one of Britain’s greatest explorers. It is about Lt-Col Percy Fawcett. Greatest explorer? Fawcett? He was a surveyor who never discovered anything, a nutter, a racist, and so incompetent that the only expedition he organised was a five-week disaster. Calling him one of our greatest explorers is like calling Eddie the Eagle one of our greatest sportsmen. It is an insult to the huge roster of true explorers. Had the advertisement been about a soap powder, it would fall foul of the Trade Descriptions Act.

Percy Fawcett joined the army immediately after school, with a commission in the artillery in 1886. The next 20 years involved garrison duty in Ceylon and postings in Malta and England. The only significant events were getting married and becoming a devotee (like many others) of the charlatan psychic Madame Blavatsky. Fawcett’s game-changer came in 1906, when he was 40. The army let him take the Royal Geographical Society’s course on frontier surveying. Far away in South America, Bolivia had just sold its rubber-rich province of Acre to Brazil, so it needed its new north-western boundary mapped. The Bolivians approached the RGS for a mature surveyor to do this. The society’s secretary asked the newly qualified Fawcett whether he wanted to go; he accepted, reported for duty in La Paz and was at work on the new Amazonian frontier by the end of the year. This survey was the best thing Fawcett did. But he described it as boring, because the new frontier was all along rivers. This was the height of the great Amazon rubber boom, so he and his team cruised from one comfortable rubber barraca to the next, taking their regular measurements.

Fawcett’s only publications were a series of papers in the Geographical Journal about his mapping work. But he kept a journal, and in 1953 his son Brian edited this and other papers into a book called Exploration Fawcett. He emerges from it as a typical Edwardian colonial officer — friendly with South Americans but looking down on them, appalled by the cruelty at some rubber stations, full of gossip about life on this remote but boom-rich backwater, and uninterested in nature apart from banalities about dangerous snakes and irritating insects.

In 1908, the Bolivians asked Fawcett to survey another of their frontiers with Brazil: a small river called Verde, far away at the north-eastern corner of the large landlocked country. The preparations were appalling. Fawcett took minimal supplies, since he was accustomed to being fed by rubber stations. This was the end of the dry season with the river at its lowest. So they soon had to abandon their boat and continue on foot. After only a week, all food was exhausted and they were really starving. Fawcett casually remarked that five out of his six peons died from the effects of this five-week disaster. This was the only expedition he led into unexplored territory.

The Bolivians invited Fawcett back in 1910, this time to map part of their boundary with Peru. It involved paddling up a frontier river called Heath and two meetings with indigenous peoples on the banks. The first group fired arrows and guns over their heads. But Fawcett waded ashore with presents and shouting a few words of ‘Chuncho’ (the Peruvian word for all forest peoples) that he had memorised but did not understand. That was the only time that Fawcett attempted any language other than Spanish. Further up the Heath river, Fawcett met a tribe he called Ecocha (now Ese Eja) whom he really liked. They were ‘embarrassingly hospitable’ with their food, so Fawcett spent a few days with them and recorded something of their ethnography. He returned for a second visit in 1911.

After a final survey for the Bolivian government in 1913, of the upper Beni river in the Andes, Fawcett went sightseeing in central Bolivia. He and two companions were paddled down the big Guaporé river. They stopped at Mequens on its Brazilian bank to visit the Swedish anthropologist Baron Erland Nordenski?ld and his attractive wife, who provided guides to take them on a walk inland to visit a people they called Maxubi (now Makurap). The Maxubi were friendly and hospitable, but continuing on a forest trail Fawcett met another tribe (probably Sakurabiat) to whom he took a violent dislike. When one aimed a drawn bow at him, Fawcett shot the man with a Mauser revolver — absolutely forbidden by Brazil’s Indian Service. He described them as he imagined Neanderthals or Piltdown Man to have looked: ‘large hairy men, with exceptionally long arms, and foreheads sloping back from pronounced eye ridges… villainous savages, hideous ape men with pig-like eyes.’ No Amazonian Indian has body hair or looks remotely like this — I know, because I have spent time with over 40 different peoples. These two groups, and the two on the Heath, were the only tribal people seen by Fawcett. He liked two of them. So it was strange that he wrote racist gibberish that ‘there are three kinds of Indians. The first are docile and miserable people, easily tamed; the second, dangerous, repulsive cannibals very rarely seen; the third, a robust and fair people, who must have a civilised origin.’

When Fawcett was in the cattle country of central Bolivia in September 1914, news came of the outbreak of war. So he hurried home and by January 1915 was back in the artillery. In his late forties, he was too old for frontline service; but he fought a good war, ending as Lieutenant-Colonel.

In one of his pre-war lectures to the RGS, Fawcett had spoken of possible ancient ruins in the Amazon forests. He was now told about a scrap of paper dated 1743 in which bandeirantes imagined that they had seen a deserted city in the jungles. (The bandeirantes were slavers who scoured the interior of Brazil for Indians to capture. Although most of these thugs were illiterate, others did write reports about their travels — none of which said a word about seeing ruins.) Fawcett gave this imaginary ‘lost city’ the codename Z, and finding it became an obsession.

The easiest forest tribes to visit in Brazil were on the headwaters of one of the Amazon’s southern tributaries, the Xingu. A German anthropologist had contacted a dozen amiable peoples there in 1884; and since then they had been visited by seven groups of anthropologists or Indian Service officials. All had walked in by the same trail. So in 1920 Fawcett tried to follow this route — even though it was nowhere near where the chimera city might have been. His plans went wrong, so he got no further than a ranch halfway along the trail. In 1921 he searched for the mythical city down on the Atlantic coast, by train inland from Salvador da Bahia; but, hardly surprisingly, the miners there knew nothing.

In 1925, by now penniless but desperate, Fawcett tried again to reach the upper Xingu tribes. He now took two inexperienced ex-public schoolboys, his son Jack and Jack’s friend Raleigh Rimmel. The old surveyor made two suicidal pronouncements. One was that the trio should travel light, with nothing more than small packs. Everyone in Amazonia knew that you could not cut trails and keep your team fed with fewer than eight men. (I can confirm this, having done months of such cutting and carrying.) But Fawcett sent their pack animals and porters back, and continued with only his two novices. His other dictum was that Indians would look after them. This was equally dangerous. The Xingu tribes pride themselves on generosity; but they expect visitors to reciprocate. All expeditions in the past four decades had brought plenty of presents such as machetes, knives and beads. Fawcett had none. He committed other blunders that antagonised their hosts. So it was only a matter of days before they were all dead.

Twenty years later, Chief Comatsi of the Kalapalo tribe gave a very detailed account of Fawcett’s visit, reminding his assembled people of exactly how they had killed the unwelcome strangers. But the German anthropologist Max Schmidt, who was there in 1926, thought that they had plunged into the forests, got lost and starved to death; this was also the view of a missionary couple called Young who were on another Xingu headwater. The Brazilian Indian Service regretted that Fawcett, who was obsessively secretive, had not asked for their help in dealing with the Indians. They felt he was killed because of the harshness and lack of tact that all recognised in him.

Such was the sad tale of this incompetent, whose only skill was in surveying. But the disappearance of an English colonel while searching for a mythical ancient city in tropical rain forests was a media sensation. Two expeditions went to try to learn more. There was revived interest in the 1950s with the publication of Exploration Fawcett and the Kalapalo chief’s account of how they killed the Englishmen. Then it was forgotten until 2009 when David Grann, a talented writer, published The Lost City of Z. Unfortunately, Grann hyped the story out of all proportion and wrongly depicted Fawcett as a great explorer.

As he cheerfully admitted, Grann had no experience of rainforests. But he let his imagination run riot, with pages about ferocious piranhas, huge anacondas, electric eels (actually a fish that has never killed a man), frogs ‘with enough toxins to kill 100 people’, ‘predator’ pig-like peccary, ‘sauba ants that could reduce the men’s clothes to threads in a single night, ticks that attached like leeches (another scourge) and the red hairy chiggers that consumed human tissue. The cyanide-squirting millipedes. The parasitic worms that caused blindness…’ and so on. Everyone who know tropical forests, including me, knows that almost every word of this is nonsense.

Fawcett himself gave a simple account of his four surveying journeys for the Bolivian government. But for Grann, ‘in expedition after expedition… he explored thousands of square miles of the Amazon and helped redraw the map of South America’. Fawcett admitted that he was ‘a greenhorn in the jungle’ and knew nothing about nature. But Grann wrote that he moved ‘inch by inch through the jungle, tracing rivers and mountains, cataloguing exotic species… [until] he had explored as much of the region as anyone’.

For Grann, Fawcett was competing against other explorers ‘who were racing into the interior of South America’. The only study that Fawcett made after leaving school in 1886 was his RGS surveying course. He never mentioned any library research. But for Grann he was ‘almost unique’ in viewing 16th- and 17th-century chronicles ignored by other scholars; he re–evaluated El Dorado chronicles and consulted ‘archival records’ and ‘tribesmen’ in ‘piecing together his theory of Z’. Not a word of this was true, either.

Grann wrote that, as an author, he would have been lost without my three-volume, 2,100-page history of Brazilian Indians and five centuries of exploration. He quotes quite often from my books. So he had no excuse for describing Fawcett’s brief visits to three indigenous villages as the ‘discovery of so many previously unknown Indians’, from whom ‘he learned to speak myriad indigenous languages’, and adopted ‘herbal medicines and native methods of hunting [so that he] was better able to survive off the land’. Equally absurd was his rubbish about cannibalistic tribes, blow guns with poisoned darts, or Kuikuro menacing him with ‘gleaming spears flickering’ from the undergrowth (they never used spears, or had metal even, before their contact 130 years ago).

When the colonel vanished, Grann writes that ‘scores’ of explorers tried to find him, and that ‘one recent estimate put the death toll from these expeditions as high as 100.’ Actually, only one search expedition reached the Xingu, led by George Dyott in 1928. (It found that the three Englishmen had been killed by Indians.) The only other expedition was in 1932, but it got only as far as the Araguaia river far to the east. The death toll from these two attempts was zero. In 1935 a ridiculous actor called Albert de Winton went by himself to the Xingu and was killed by Indians who wanted his gun. So if we count him, the death toll is one — well short of Grann’s 100.

These and a great many other passages are artistic licence and hype of an absurd order. Hollywood believed everything Grann wrote, and then hyped it up more. People wishing to learn about the maverick colonel should consult his own fairly modest memoir — not the recent fantasy book and film about him. But I could recommend scores of writings by real explorers.

John Hemming is a Canadian explorer; the three volumes of his history of Brazilian Indians are Red Gold (1978), Amazon Frontier (1985) and Die If You Must (2004)

雖然對小栗旬在第一部柯南真人據中有相當大的陰影但是還是看了第二部，為了愛的灰原～其實這個灰原算是片子里面蠻出彩的了......

突然發覺灰原同學也是著名的第二女主角呢，我什么時候能看上她當主角的一部片子呢 = =

看完最大的感慨還是既然同上了賊船就和以前的人確實不是一路的了，工藤你就好好享受和小灰在一起的美好日子吧

沒辦法，對蘭始終是沒愛