网飞制作的德剧，让我想起了这几年大火的《暗黑》，但显然网飞并没有像《暗黑》那样，给这部剧投入过多的资源。

这个剧从让我想起了电影《亚历山大大帝》以及《斯巴达300勇士》，这种类型的影视作品特点就是披着“时代剧”的外衣，内核还是在宣扬现代西方的普世价值观以及个人英雄主义，不论是亚历山大大帝，还是列奥尼达，本质上都是古代版的巴顿将军，这部剧也一样，通过把敌人的屎打出来，进而实现自己的“自由民主”就是这类角色的使命和动机。

我并不了解历史，就从剧中交代的剧情看，主角阿米尼乌斯是个挺有趣的人物，冲突感很强，颇有一种“阿拉伯的劳伦斯”之感，这个人物其实远比亚历山大、列奥尼达有层次，但剧本中对他的成长曲线描绘的比较模糊，在我看来，他立场的转变更像是一种随波逐流，或者说是出于一种本能的，我并不知道历史上阿米尼乌斯是不是就是这么一个人，所以也没法做深层次的探讨，但仅从剧本的角度看，这本可以做的更好。

这部剧最宏大的场面来自本季最终集的决战：野蛮人大战罗马人，但遗憾的是：这一过程是通过野蛮人单纯对罗马人的屠杀来展现的，这种拍法一下让这部剧集变成了“抗罗神剧”，你看不到这场战斗中，有任何一个野蛮人倒下，罗马人在面对野蛮人的石头和木棒时，毫无还手之力，这就好像你在公路上开着一辆法拉利，却没跑过旁边疾驰而过的拖拉机……再搭配阿米尼乌斯那段尴尬的《自由宣言》旁白，让整部剧之前五集营造的紧张感荡然无存，虽然我不是历史迷，但还是要问，如果野蛮人这么能打，为什么公元前2世纪开始称霸欧洲的罗马人，而不是日耳曼人？

罗马人方面，全是一些脸谱化的反派形象，很像90年代警匪片中的歹徒，猥琐的要死，也谈不上有什么人物刻画，基本就是为了反衬主角的“伟光正”，实在乏善可陈……

更荒诞的是，男主角的养父告诉男主：我养你就是为了利用你……这就好比考试之前，你举手告诉老师，你这场考试准备作弊一样……十分可笑。

【详细】

129371102

这只是一个人的观后感记录

---------------------------------------------------------------

希望你不要多想

在看这纪录片的时候，感觉自己进入了一个区，一个代表黑 人的区，认为所有的黑人都是一体的

但其实不是，只是一个人，一个本体

但不是，这也是事后想起的，当面对外星人的时候，所以的人类才为成为一体，也只有针对一个种族时，那个种族才会是一体

所以奥尼的背叛只是做为一个人，活着与活好的选择

他不做黑人也会死绝，但他一定会死绝

【详细】

13276577

(吐槽一下，我不精通日文，但谷歌翻譯和劇中聽起來都是Miyuri，不是Miruyi，查了下好像是當初HKIFF文本誤用)

我非常喜歡這樣的風格和敘事方式，從Miyuri被欺凌到被紬所拯救，兩個人之間甜甜的相處，期間運用了一些意象(蠶、夢)，和一些表情上，談話上節奏的細節，Miyuri演員演技不錯，從被欺凌的壓抑痛苦，再到後來的呆萌 (好看哭了，女主耐看型，越看越好看) ，對紬一些跳脫的想法感到的不安、不理解、疑惑，相當不錯

至於紬，從一開始就覺得這女孩所面臨的問題可能更加複雜，自殘謎團、餐廳上面對父親的舉動，不顧一切、不擇手段去沖繩的執著，對於人生規劃與未來的不信任

下面重點劇情，防劇透一下──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────有人說是Miyuri背叛了紬，但我覺得這只是年少時經驗不足，所造成的誤會與溝通不良吧，雙方都是，為何紬不把實情全盤托出、不問清楚Miyuri為何離開，Miyuri不問清楚心中的疑惑，或許就不會發生最後那樣的事，這是我最近看過的數一數二想哭的，整體上是喜歡，但真的太慘了

首先声明，本人最喜欢妈妈，最讨厌Charlotte。Charlotte兼具Skyler的拧巴和小粉的蠢，同这个洗钱界的毒师家庭格格不入。妈妈乐在其中，小儿未来可期，Marty一开始乐在其中后来…责任分配：妈妈politician，原是为家庭放弃事业的主妇，遭遇夫妻信任危机后出轨，全家离开芝加哥后重操旧业，间接杀人或物理杀人都毫不手软；爸爸technician，原是financial planner和独立合伙人，后为钱深陷cartel业务，因partner的偷钱行径遭殃，与一干Mexicans达成“洗不了钱就索命”的协议，协全家共赴火坑；儿子Jonah是后备technician，自从全家迁居Ozark以来学得一手洗钱好本领，用假身份帮妈妈整出一些匿名政治献金，实际用cartel的钱把诸如Wilkes之类的地方头面人物拉下水；女儿Charlotte负责花钱和指责爹妈不给自己一个正常家庭，提供青春期子女的各种糟心事，不定时发送“家庭分裂”之类的危险信号。《Ozark》与绝命毒师，除了主题的不同（一个制毒一个洗钱），最主要的是视域的不同：Byrde和毒师一家处于社会分化的不同层级中，Marty虽与大众印象中的华尔街败类不同但其实是同类人，化学老师虽没有穷到触线的地步但癌症、残疾儿子种种也使他离触线差不离了。某种程度上这代表了网飞和HBO最主要的口味差异。Byrde一家也经历了breaking Bad 。对于Gilligan而言，这是一个化学老师、或社区大学毕业律师逃离既定规范、进入充满利益和危险的灰色地带的过程；而对于Byrde而言，这是一次必然到来的坠落。当Marty答应为cartel工作时，就把家庭、家庭的财产和未来推到了法律所能给予保护的范围之外，为了“此生永不再为钱发愁”，要随时准备为合伙人的一点贪财、各种意料之外的小毛病承担过分可怕的代价。之所以说是坠落，为了活命、为了光速洗钱，Byrde一家到Ozark后不得不和乡巴佬、white trash、为了一点点钱就会搞死你的各色人等搅和在一起，这些人遵循着和Byrde这样的家庭完全不同的生存法则。首先是Langmore一家，住在拖车里的罪犯世家，和西蒙《凶年》里的那些毒贩、打手差不多或者更糟。偷抢为业，以刑期为荣，懂得各种躲避警察消灭证据的方法，会为了几万块钱把你电死在自家码头且做得天衣无缝。其次是占有当地服务业的乡巴佬，这些人中，经营合法生意的人已习惯了萧条，对任何外来投资都心存怀疑，觉得他们至少和银行一样无耻；经营不法生意的一眼就看穿“投资”目的何在，put money through the fucking washer，在失掉小命前都不会同意把生意拱手相让。最后就是一些不按逻辑出牌的地方势力，像Snell一家，和执法部门紧密勾结，掌握当地诸如制毒贩毒等实业的命脉，并受一些荣誉或家族观念影响经常不向金钱妥协。好在钱还是可打通大多数环节，可让罪犯为己所用，可买下酒吧、殡仪馆，可让地方大佬少找麻烦。更不用说，一地也许缺少实业，但永不会缺少政客，还有金钱政治。即使没有足够的实业供你洗钱，你也可游说大家为某个建设赌场的法案投赞成票。虽然多数人都可用钱买通，但有些人不会同意。既可能是因为对手比你出价更高，也可能是因为该人生性耿直。但是if we look close enough, we can always find something dirty作为筹码。赌场建成之日，Byrde一家成了Ozark的地方支柱、模范家庭，本来说要跑路的结果Wendy说不跑了大家就不跑了。Buddy的人生哲学Wendy深感受用，如果明天要死，今天就是美好的一天。跑路的话说不定没跑多远就被cartel干掉了。妈妈和小儿似对这另类的生活越来越得心应手，Marty渐渐从牧师之死的震撼中回过神来，Charlotte依然半心半意想要离家。就像Wendy和牧师对峙时所说，夏娃偷食禁果也许只是便利，也许智慧树刚好近在手边。大多时候正义之路根本不彰明，而邪恶恰好处在便利的转弯口。到处指责和报复的人如Mason他们的罪是骄傲、无法屈尊，有时寡廉鲜耻可以救人一命。而有些人没有选择，比如Byrde家的孩子，比如Mason的妻子；有些代价得由亲近之人承担。这时候屈服于骄傲就不是一个明智的选择，一个愚蠢的选择。breaking bad的一个结果是外部认知和自我认识达到同步，我承认我不是什么好人，但我也不是十恶不赦的坏人。只是必要之恶，第一个选择之后带来的滚雪球式后果，迫使他或她这样做，高效、彻底、决绝。Byrde们自知和Langmore们是不平等的，尽管你我都是罪犯，但是你们因一系列的犯罪记录不能正常买房、入学而我们没有也不会因此犯愁，要不是我（Marty)的帮助某个Langmore就会被任何学校拒之门外。同样，当Byrde为了保护自己子女时从不吝惜使用必要之恶，甚至用cartel来解决某个Langmore.自从Byrde一家入驻后，Ozark殡仪馆的非盈利生意异常红火。

【详细】

142052261

这部电影是通过微博看到的介绍才看的，剧情还可以，反派就是一帅比，帅就完了，《星际穿越》的慈父形象在这部电影里大转变，人狠话不多，电影里有一个韩国妹子长的很漂亮，可惜戏份不多，但很让人印象深刻，起初还以为是全智贤，偶尔在一部电影里发现一个喜欢的演员是件挺幸福的事，总的来说电影比较平稳，高潮部分不多，一定要说的话也是奔着反派男主去看的

clit2014, jan 2, 晚交了20天，我再也不想上gender studies了我要吐了，写这篇paper不知道经历了多少mental breakdown

Women’s Experience Matters: Redefining Feminist Cinema through Claire’s Camera

As Laura Mulvey points out in “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema”, traditional narrative cinema largely relies upon the practice of a gendered “gaze”, specifically, male’s unconscious objectification of female as erotic spectacle from which visual pleasure is derived. Her account draws attention to the prevailing feminist-unfriendly phenomena in contemporary cinema, one that resides in the language of patriarchy, privileging man’s experience while making woman the passive object deprived of autonomy. Many feminist filmmakers and theorists including Mulvey herself urge a radical strategy that dismantles patriarchal practice and frees woman from the state of being suppressed by the male-centered cinematic language.To conceptualize a mode of cinema that speakswoman’s language, or authentic feminist cinema, this essay interrogates the validity of Mulvey’s destruction approach in pursuing a feminist aesthetic. By making reference to Hong Sang-soo’s film, Claire’s Camera, I argue that feminist cinema needs to be redefined by neither the immediate rejection of gender hierarchy nor the postmodern notion of fluidity, but by perspectives that transcend the gendered metanarrative of subject vs. object, and that primarily represent and serve woman’s experience on both sides of the Camera.

Earlier waves of feminism strived to call attention to, if not, eliminate the unbalanced power relation between men and women in the society, namely the dichotomy between domination and submission, superiority and inferiority, and self and other (Lauretis 115). Feminists such as Mary Wollstonecraft and Simone de Beauvoir radically interrogated women’s rights in the political arena as well as women’s relative position to men in the society at large. However, the approaches of the earlier waves cannot prove themselves sufficient in pursuit of a female autonomy, owing to the fact that they are constantly caught in the power-oriented metalanguage which inherently privileges one over another. While it is argued that the objectification of the “second sex” is oppressive in nature, for example, the assertion already marks the subject-object dynamics between men and women by default. It fails to propose non-power based gender narratives, while obliquely acknowledging that the language spoken in this context is inevitably characterized by phallocentric symbols, ones that prioritize self over other, subject over object, male over female. In thisregard, rather than rendering a perspective that exposes and dismantles patriarchy, the outcome of earlier feminist approaches inclines towards “replicating male ideology” (Mackinnon 59), reifying the omnipresence of the patriarchal language and reproducing the effects of patriarchy.

A similar notion applies to defining feminist cinema. In terms of visual representation, feminist idealists encourage women to present their bodily spectacles, inviting interpretations free of erotic objectification. Despite the favorable receptions from the sex-positive side of the discourse, it is indiscernible as to whether these attempts truly free women from the dome of sex-negativism or reinforce the effect of the patriarchal language even more. This polarized debate, I believe, is due to the fact that the discourse is held captive by the language of patriarchy too powerful for one to extricate from, and that any rebellious gesture would appear to be an insufficient, passive rejection of the predominant ideology. To illustrate this point, Lauretis notes that Mulvey’s and other avant-garde filmmakers’ conceptualization of women’s cinema often associates with the prefix of “de-” with regards to “the destruction… of the very thing to be represented, …the deaestheticization of the female body, the desexualization of violence, the deoedipalization of narrative, and so forth” (175). The “de-” act does not necessarily configure a new set of attributes for feminist representation, but merely displays a negative reaction to a preexisting entity. It is important to be skeptical of its effectiveness in defining feminist cinema, as it implies certain extent of negotiation instead of spot-on confrontation with the previous value. A destructive feminist cinema can never provide a distinctive set of aesthetic attributes without having to seek to problematize and obscure the reality of a patriarchal cinema. In that regard, it is passive, dependent and depressed. More importantly, the question – how the destruction of visual and narrative pleasure immediately benefits women within the narrative and directly addresses female spectators – remains unanswered.

TakingClaire’s Cameraas an example, the film destructs the notion of a gendered visual pleasure by presenting the camera as a reinvented gazing apparatus, one that differs from the gendered gaze, and instead brings novel perception into being. Normally, when characters are being photographed, mainstream filmmakers tend to introduce a viewpoint in alignment with the photographer’s position, enabling spectator’s identification; that is, the shot usually shifts to a first-person perspective so that spectators identify with the photographer gazing at the object who is in front of the camera. Claire’s Camera, however, abandons this first-person perspective while generating new meanings of the gaze. Claire ambiguously explains to So and Yanghye the abstract idea that taking photographs of people changes the photographer’s perception of the photographed object, and that the object is not the same person before their photograph was taken. The spectacle, although objectifiable in nature, is not so passive as being the object constructed upon, but rather constructs new signification upon the subject. The notion of the gaze is therefore re-presented with alternative insights.

That being said, as I argued earlier, the destructive approach is not so sufficient an attempt at defining feminist cinema, because the way it functions nevertheless indulges feminist ideology in the role of passivity, deprived of autonomy and always a discourse dependent on and relative to the prepotency of patriarchy. In the conversation scene between So and Manhee, So, who is almost the age of Manhee’s father, criticizes her for wearing revealing shorts and heavy makeup. In a typically phallocentric manner, he insists that she has insulted her beautiful face and soul by self-sexualizing and turning into men’s erotic object. Despite the fact that the preceding scenes have no intention to eroticize the female body or sexualize her acts such that the visual pleasure is deliberately unfulfilled and almost completely excluded from the diegesis, So inevitably finds Manhee’s physical features provocative and without a second thought, naturally assumes that her bodily spectacle primarily serves man’s interest. This scene demonstrates that regardless of feminists’ radical destruction of visual pleasure, practitioners of patriarchal beliefs will not be affected at all; if any, the femininity enunciation only intensifies the social effects of patriarchy. The conversation between the two characters embodies the self-reflexive style of Hong Sang-soo’s filmmaking, in a sense that it fosters debates within the theoretical framework upon which it is constructed, and constantly counters itself in search of a deeper meaning, contemplating questions such as do we believe in what we practice, whether it is patriarchy or its opposite? And is anti-patriarchy feminism determined enough to prove itself a destructive force against patriarchy rather than a sub-deviant of a predominant ideology? The scene proves the drawback of a destructive strategy, that the way it operates nonetheless subscribes to a patriarchal manner, and that in order to escape the secondary position with respect to the phallocentric subject, more needs to be done other than problematizing the subject.

To supplement the insufficiency of destruction, postmodern feminists such as Judith Butler proposes theoretical alternative to approach the discourse. Butler argues that gender is performative and fluid instead of a set of essential attributes. The notion of performativity indeed precludes the social effects of essentialism by introducing the idea of an identity continuum into gender politics, in ways that empower the socially perceived non-normative. On top of that, Butler believes that the categorization of sex “maintain[s] reproductive sexuality as a compulsory order”, and that the category of woman is an exclusive and oppressive “material violence” (17). Acknowledging the harms that essentialist perception of gender and sexuality entails, Butler bluntly negates the very categorization of woman. This radical negation, however, evades the reality that our whole understanding of the human race is based on gender categories, despite the corresponding inequalities generated from the instinctual categorization. In fact, it is when women as a collective community have come to the realization that the female gender is socially suppressed, that they start to strive for equality through the apparatus of feminism. Butler’s rejection of the gender categorization withdraws the sense of collectivism in the feminist community, which is “an important source of unity” for the marginalized (Digeser 668). Moreover, it deprives the feminist cinema of the necessity of delineating an authentic female representation, because within the notion of performativity there is no such thing as a fixed set of female representations but only distinctive individuals that conform to gender fluidity. Since identifying with a certain form of representation means to live up to a socially perceived norm from which one deviates, a performative cinema does not encourage spectator’s identification. The failed identification will not only drastically shift the spectator’s self-understanding but also cause more identity crises. Therefore, performativity is too ideal a theoretical concept to have actual real-life applications.

Whether it is her body or her social function, woman has become the commodity of patriarchy. As Lauretis puts it, “she is the economic machine that reproduces the human species, and she is the Mother, an equivalent more universal than money, the most abstract measure ever invented by patriarchal ideology” (158). Woman’s experience has been portrayed in the cinematic realm nothing more than being the (m)other and the provocative body. Historical debates have proved that articulating the problematic tendencies within gender differences only results in skepticism rather than new solutions. Thus, in order to negotiate a feminist cinema, filmmakers need to abandon the patriarchal meta-language completely, and reconstruct new texts that represent and treasure woman’s experience more than just being the other, that “[address] its spectator as a woman, regardless of the gender of the viewers” (Lauretis 161).

Similarly, what needs to be done in feminist cinema is more than just interrogating the gender difference between woman and man, but interpreting such difference in unconventional ways that liberate women from being compared to men and invite them to possibilities of having narratives dedicated to themselves. One of the ways, Lauretis suggests, is to regard woman as the site of differences (168). This signifies that the cinema needs to stop generalizing woman’s role based on her universal functions; rather, it needs to articulate her unique features, what makes her herself but not other women, from the way she looks to the trivial details of her daily life. In Claire’s Camera, the function of the camera conveniently transcends the diegetic space. In the narrative, it demarcatesthe “site of differences”, that is, how someone changes right after their photograph is taken, as well as how Manhee is presented differently each of the three times being photographed. The camera also magnifies her experience as a woman for spectator’s identification, mundane as it could be. In the last scene, the camera smoothly tracks Manhee organizing her belongings, packing box after box, casually talking to a colleague passing by, and so forth. Long takes like this fulfill what Lauretis would call “the ‘pre-aesthetic’ [that] isaestheticrather than aestheticized” in feminist cinema (159). Without commodifying or fetishizing woman and her acts, the film authentically represents a woman’s vision, her perception, her routines, and all the insignificant daily events which female spectators can immediately relate to. When a film no longer solely portrays woman as the “economic machine” that labors, entices men, and commits to social roles, it has confidently overwritten the patriarchal narrative with a female language. It fully addresses its spectator as a woman, appreciating and celebrating the female sex, not for what she does as a woman but for what she experiences.

In conclusion, the essay first challenges the destructive approach in feminist cinema regarding its sufficiency in pursuit of woman’s autonomy and its indestructible destiny to fall back into patriarchy. The essay then argues that the rejection of gender categorization in performativity theory frustrates the mission of defining a female representation. Hong Sang-soo’s self-reflexive film, Claire’s Camera, offers an apparatus to delve into the drawbacks of destructive feminist cinema and simultaneously renders a new feminist code, abandoning the patriarchal metanarrative and constructing a new narrative that truly prioritizes woman’s experience.

Works Cited

Butler, Judith. “Contingent Foundations: Feminist and the Questions of ‘Postmodernism.’”Feminists Theorize the Political, edited by Judith Butler and Joan W. Scott, Routledge, 1992, pp. 3–21.

Digeser, Peter. “Performativity Trouble: Postmodern Feminism and Essential Subjects.” Political Research Quarterly, vol. 47, no. 3, 1994, pp. 655-673.

Lauretis, Teresa de. “Aesthetic and Feminist Theory: Rethinking Women's Cinema.”New German Critique, no. 34, 1985, pp. 154–175.

Lauretis, Teresa de. “Eccentric Subjects: Feminist Theory and Historical Consciousness.”Feminist Studies, vol. 16, no. 1, 1990, pp. 115–150.

Mackinnon, Catherine A. “Desire and Power.”Feminism Unmodified: Discourses on Life and Law, Harvard University Press, 1987, pp. 46–62.

Mulvey, Laura. “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.”The Norton Anthology and Theory and Criticism, edited by Vincent B Leitch, W. W. Norton, 2001, pp. 2181–2192.

志伟的角色是泰国刑侦队长吧，在片子快结束时，竟然猝不及防地"飙"出一句粤语"我顶你个肺"，这句台词也太出戏了，有种在看港片的穿越感。剧组经费紧张，尤其是志伟的配枪，掉漆了不说，外壳也太没金属质感了。另：男主若不会讲英语，就别设计那么多他和反派的英文对白了，很明显看出表演时的口型不对，吐槽无力啊！

評

----------【劇情故事】----------

經典的狗血加上經典的後期濾鏡，總之這樣製成的作品怎麽搞都不會太難看。至於故事線的設計就只能用"呵呵"來表達一下。

感情线除了主角配对设计尚可，主要配角的感情线显然就显得潦草了很多，进展几乎可以用爆炸来描述。

作为一部中篇长度，主角这吻戏也显得太多了一点，完全没有含蓄婉约之美。

----------【角色演繹】----------

主角團相貌都不錯，加上古裝扮相還是很符合偶像劇水平的。在主角團之中奇怪的是女主的演繹技術似乎比男主略好一點，可能是因爲本劇重點戲份都給了女主的緣故。当然，女主这个有点痴傻的角色时常说起话来也真是令人心生愤怒。

----------【配樂，服飾，道具，場景，特效】----------

服飾雖然不能算的上用心卓越，至少和本劇氣場氛圍融合度比較高。

在某些场合女主的化妆显得有些奇怪，特别是面部色彩方面。