纪录片《聪明理财经济学》，4p，1个多小时，4个案例，涉及到财务自由、理财、控制消费等，本质还是开源节流，但是因为有了比较合适的方式和目标，所以有了一定成效，算是理财启蒙～

开源方面：

1、找到自己有优势的地方，实现价值转换，通过不断增值、更快更规模化实现收益增加。（《小狗钱钱》也表达了类似想法）

2、投资理财，定投，长期持有，这也是被动收入的开始。（用钱生钱，本金很重要，但对于0存款一族，先积累起步资金到一定数额，比如1w。）

节流方面:

1、按“需要、爱、喜欢、想要”划分四个消费象限，专注“需要和爱”，不被“喜欢和想要”操控。这个划分蛮有意思，诗和远方必须有，活下去必须有，其他就当做小小的调剂，控制起来（在每一笔消费之前问下自己它是必需的吗？我的使用频率是多少？），为了远方努力。

2、存钱，当被动收入能覆盖掉日常生活开支，就能实现提前退休，简化来说FIRE金额=年生活开支×25

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.

针对该剧提出一些我的批评和疑惑：第一：对库尔班形象塑造偏肤浅，编剧笔力太过把他塑造成了一个只为了见毛主席而存在的倔老头，所谓的三次见毛主席的尝试，一次比一次让人烦躁，太过于突出那个时代对毛主席的“个人崇拜”，诚然那个时代确实有个人崇拜，但是给这个时代的观众看是否过犹不及？就像郭靖宇先生拍的《娘道》，瑛娘反复要给丈夫生儿子，诚然这确实是那个时代重男轻女造成的，但是是否能减轻表达力度？因为个人崇拜和重男轻女一样并不是好事情，表达过猛只能让人生理不适。

第二，这种塑造人物的手法，让库尔班身上“倔强不服输”的优点变成了“不知变通、不为他人着想、不断给人找麻烦”的缺点，并且这种缺点还被无限放大，他再愚昧无知，难道不懂见国家元首这件事情并不是一个县委书记能决定的，那为何又一而再再而三地给柯有田制造麻烦？编剧这么塑造，只能让观众觉得库尔班是个“蠢出世的王八”，更是过分突出了当时百姓的愚昧无知。

第三，视角偏小，太过着重塑造库尔班个人的经历，对戍边屯垦干部的形象塑造得不够，明明可以体现更多转业干部的奉献大爱，以及认真宣扬社会主义思想，教育普通百姓提升对社会主义好的深入认知，百姓和戍边干部共同进步，从而引起现代观众的共鸣，却只把笔墨花在了“见毛主席”这个特别小的点上，戍边屯垦的干部反而只成了穿针引线的实用工具人，实在是令人遗憾。到全剧结尾，库尔班对社会主义的认知还是只停留在“能让我吃饱穿暖当家做主”这个最初始的点上，所谓的库尔班家族精神也只停留在“毛主席的嘱托”上。

第四，既然已经把那么多笔墨给了“见毛主席”这个情节，那最后为什么又碍于经费，拍了那么一个毫无亮点的见毛主席的画面？不请特型也就算了，甚至是以虚代实，用了张历史照片敷衍了事，一点代入感都没有，用虎头蛇尾来形容都算是夸奖了，我看得真的只想骂人。

第五，这部剧前半段和后半段断层严重，似乎是两个编剧写的。前半段无论是打倒塔西巴依、剿灭特务还是库尔班跟着部队上昆仑山后柯有田教导他要把视角放到全国的大好河山上，都是令人振奋的，是一种宏大的叙事视角，情感细腻而令人舒畅。但是后半段就开始让人变得烦躁，视野瞬间缩小，仿佛所有情节都是为了见毛主席服务的，甚至库尔班做全国劳模，都是带着这样一层功利性。

好看又不好看，确实是大女主，但也确实台词过于冗长，演员仿佛变成了输出台词的工具人（虽然写得蛮好）。人物情感比较流于表面，确认关系后男主的行为有点下头。

不满意的剧情：

1. 女主对男主的情感递进较为生硬，前期铺垫少，并且采用让女主经受苦难式的“英雄救美”情节来使女主确认心意。女主动心的两个场面分别为阑尾炎、台风天。全部是女主发生不测，男主来拯救，用这种方式突出女主的脆弱和对男主的需要，不但不真实，并且是传统男性视角爱情剧惯用手法。在男权视角下，通过女性经受苦难、男性拯救的方式，突出男性的阳刚、可靠属性和女性的弱小、依附属性，实在老套。

2. 为什么所有姐弟恋里的弟弟在确认关系后都要靠爹味满满的限制、教导姐姐，成为“大男人”的方式来凸显自己的成熟？女主在剧中的人设是最讨厌别人替她安排和规划人生，最讨厌别人限制她，而男主在确认关系后虽然嘴上说得好，但行动上却屡次当爹，要求女主归顺、依附他，包括不限于必须男主买单否则不高兴，女主在事业上帮他他非但不沟通，反而甩脸色，说自己要做大男人等。

爱看姐弟恋的一个重要原因就是年轻男性可能没有中年男性的爹味，然而本剧的弟弟在确认关系后属实没做到。

3. 强化性别刻板印象并通过污蔑“其他普通女性”的方式来凸显女主的特别。比如：结尾的手链，女性温柔男性阳刚；徐总说女性的优点是细心等。剧中台词屡次出现：“她不像别的女人那样看上你的车子房子”类似的台词，好像女性普遍拜金、跟男人在一起就是为了钱和资产。这不但是污名化，而且是失实的。国内双职工家庭占家庭形式的绝大多数，婚前买自己的房子也是高收入女性常见的规避婚姻风险的方式。男方提供房车或男方首付、男女共同还贷的方式在新婚姻法下对女方极其不利。而大多数年轻人，无论男女，买房首付都是父母支付，我想编剧用这种方式来凸显女主的特别非但失实，而且充满了男权视角的恶意。

4. 剧中两位母亲人设也非常不现实，其他人有描述我就不赘述了。

综上，看这部剧我养胃又不养胃，嗑到又没嗑到。希望编剧以后不要糖里夹??了，大女主剧最基本的要素应是从女性的视角出发，去描写女性的心理状态、事业观和爱情观。

看完了这部剧，在电视剧的最后一集，林动说“林琅天一直想当英雄，他以为当英雄就能光鲜悦目，众人臣服，为英雄担大事者必艰辛孤独，它根本不是荣耀，而是这世上最可怕最痛苦的责任”。他说“从此以后我的唯一所愿，就是守护这片天地”。

最后，林动成全了所有人，守护了所有人，却唯独辜负了自己，他失去了至亲——他的父亲，他失去了挚爱应欢欢，失去了遇到的很多朋友，而他想要一直保护的妹妹被迫成长，这些都不是他想要的，最初的最初，他只是想要保护自己的家人，可是最后他守护了这片天地唯独没有保护好家人。

我知道很多人不愿意看这部剧，看完觉得很差，我很理解你们。生活已经这么苦了，看剧谁不想图个心情愉快呢，谁不能看到主角遇神杀神遇佛杀佛叱咤风云呢？这样才好带入自己让自己觉得人生充满希望。谁不能看到主角光鲜亮丽金手指大开呢？谁愿意看到主角一而再再而三的被反派打压呢？于是你们觉得这部剧好没意思，到底想要讲什么。是的，我看这部小说也是因为爽，因为所有遇到主角的人都会被虐。这部剧改的完全不一样，但是我看到了另外的东西，那是很多剧里不敢表达的东西，也是很多人不想面对的现实，那就是——这世界并不是公平的，并不是做了很多努力就会有回报，也许这场欢喜落幕会有更多的灾难。面对这样的场景你该怎么样呢？是退却还是迎难而上越挫越勇，也许剧里会给你答案——我们还年轻，跌倒了爬起来，没什么大不了的。

以前看言情电视剧的时候总会看到女主对男主说“你以为你有钱就了不起啊？” 以前我也这样想，后来看到了很多新闻就想说：是的，有钱就是了不起就是可以仗势欺人。放在这部电视剧里，就是境界高武力强就是可以为所欲为。在社会这样现实的地方，很多时候我们都会遇到很多不公平的地方，这时候就会怀疑人生，既然世界这么不公平我是不是还要坚守自己的底线呢？这部剧给了我们答案。面对同样的问题，林琅天和林动做了不同的选择。林琅天他被人欺负，便要化身为魔去欺负别人，而林动始终坚持着自己的底线，与黑暗斗争，即使一次又一次的失败，还在坚持着。

记得我在《默读》的书评里就这样写过，面对黑暗你会怎样呢？是与黑暗融为一体还是与黑暗斗争到底？我不知道其他人会怎么选择，但是我坚持认为林动的选择是对的，即使面对黑暗势力，即使一次次失去，即使所有努力最后还是会落空，也要坚守自己的底线，要抗争到底。因为这样，至少自己是心安的。

成为一个好人远远要比成为一个坏人难得多，因为他们要面对重重诱惑，他们要始终的坚持自己的底线，他们要比坏人有着更多的条条框框。可是人之所以为人，是因为有良心有感情有思想有判断，如果一个人被欲望冲昏了头，被利益驱使着做事，心都不再是热的，那么人还与畜生有什么区别？

林动他是一个凡人，却要肩负着重大的责任，面对诱惑他也曾动摇，他也想过打开位面之门去寻找自己丢失的爱人，可是最后他放弃了。这样的角色有血有肉，也有人觉得作为一个英雄他竟然还在乎儿女情长，可是被人称道的霸王别姬不也是儿女情长吗？林动并不完美，他是一个真正的人，有喜怒哀乐有彷徨迷茫的人。

林琅天能够做出与林动完全不同的选择，是因为他在骨子里就是自私的。他从最开始就骗了青檀，青檀知道了事情真相后不再原谅他，他反而一直觉得青檀负了他；他杀了林动的父亲林啸，一次次的欺骗林动，林动那次不相信他，他选择入魔，还要把所有的责任都推给别人。在他的世界观里，他始终是对的，别人都是错的。

这世上本来就没有纯粹的黑白，大部分人都处于灰色地带，只不过在选择的分岔路口，有的人选择向左，有的人选择向右，如果是你，你会选择哪个方向呢？

反正，我会选择林动的选择。也许这就是这部剧的名字的含义吧，即使历经磨难，即使面对再多的不公，依旧初心不改，一片冰心在玉壶。

动物本来不该是受人类支配的。首先我觉得万物有灵是真的，我们本该互相尊重。我好能理解米娅对查理的感情，当小白狮崽第一次出现在自己面前，就算心情再烦躁，也难在第一眼去讨厌这个软软糯糯看起来十分想去保护的小家伙。身边没有朋友，青春期的孩子多孤独啊。小白狮的出现化解了米娅的孤独，虽然它身形成长的巨快，但它还是那个粘人的小猫咪鸭。米娅拼尽全力的保护最爱的小白狮，而小白对她也爱之深切。这种感情真的好感人（呜呜呜为什么我家猫不是这样的(;｀O′)o好在影片最后爸爸站出来了，大猫猫真正自由了。我也好想养狮子啊（不是）太可爱了呜呜呜呜

和黑鸟的打斗中，可以发现，伍六七应该想起怎么使用魔刀了，同时也会观察对手的弱点（在树林的对战中发现黑鸟眼睛怕光）。

其次，魔刀千刃似乎有剑灵，最后那一下反噬了黑鸟的血液还是能量，而恰恰是这一下终结了黑鸟的生命。

最后，这应该是小号第一次干掉对手（你懂的…KO掉了，心疼黑鸟三秒），回想一下：第一季第十集打败斯特国王子的是短暂出现的大号柒，第二季小号和赤牙五五开，其他大概算是小打小闹吧。不管是阿七还是大号柒，向来都会给对手留有余地的（严谨一点，是任务之外的人），所以看到黑鸟最后被干掉了我还是挺震惊的。或者可以说，黑鸟被终结是因为魔刀千刃吧，而不是阿七。

知乎有一些对日本的不婚和少子化社会现象的分析，和我们的相亲，被迫结婚生子还是不同的。年过三十，往往见到这些美好的事物总会产生应激反应似的，“这不是真的，一定有坑” 难以反抗想要自我保护的意识。于是大部分人选择逃避，一部分选择继续向上攀登，用投资自己的行为摆脱单身汪的焦虑。还有一部分人已经下定决心，今生不娶不嫁不要后代。不管是哪一种选择，都有它的苦衷，希望社会可以向着单身友好的方向去发展，剥离掉社会和伦理道德压力之后，也行人会有相对更多更好的生活价值选择权。

最好的早期短片集锦，尤其是其中的《春闺断梦》（费穆）和《小五义》（蔡楚生）。《春》用一个梦境，用隐喻的方式表达抗日主题。《小五义》用发生在一个家庭的小故事说明当时中华民族面对日寇侵略的现实困境。几个故事都在短小篇幅内表达了国破家亡、救亡图存或反封建的主题。构思巧妙，我看评论中有些人根本就不知道《联交曲》讲的是什么，这部电影是在1937年“国防电影”口号下上海联华电影人集体创作的抗日反封建电影短片集锦，请你们看不懂的，说《小五义》不好的，自己先去看看电影史！《小五义》里的父亲影射的是当时的国民政府，五个孩子是分崩离析的中华民族，闯进家的那个是日寇。被盗走的女孩是指“东北”，片中有许多隐喻，包括五个孩子被“日寇”分化、内战等。现在的微电影导演能做到当时的一半，就算很厉害了。

京剧猫个人认为极具有中国特色，就如它的名字一般，里里外外都是中国的感觉，画风剧情什么的，自认为是无可挑剔，一开始以为第一季做的好，之后可能后面的就越做越差了，不仅是因为没有钱了，还是因为我看过很多动漫第一季做的很好，第二季就没有了原来的味道，但是京剧猫看了这么多季，还是原来的味道，还是原来的白糖，即便第四季经费已经不够，画风依然是那么的美，并没有因此而忽悠我们(>ω<)我们也会努力的刷热度的！！整部剧都在围绕着，“只要有信念，就一定能做到”这句话来讲，一开始只有白糖一个人相信到后面所有人都开始说这句话，这也许就是一个很细微的变化，白糖在潜移默化的改变着周围的人，，白糖的身世现在还是个谜，白糖总是乐观的，与他悲惨的经历并不相符，正是因为如此，每当他用微笑着的语言说着扎心的话时，才会特别心疼……京剧猫的人物塑造的简直无可挑剔，真的很厉害，也不希望因为经费不足而下架