先吐槽/警告一句，这部分级是多少来着，映伦R15+？本片有对少年兵的非常残酷的直接描写，还不带“打码”的，比如故意调很暗什么的。我只是刷了电影院的会员卡（有年龄）就直接让我买票，还以为会有什么警告信息要我确认呢。不愧是东宝的片子，后台硬就是好，不过怎么上映的都是东宝的剧场……看来大家其实都知道重口味。所以对这方面比较抵触的朋友，如果想看这部的话要再考虑下这个问题。==========下面是简单的影评，先声明我其实日文听力完全不行，以下都是我根据画面瞎编……啊不，如果有因为听不懂搞错的地方，就当笑话看吧。另外我没看过原作或者漫画之类的改编作品。了解仅限于google出的一些简单信息。所以请当作对本作一无所知的人写的影评，如果有因为对剧情不了解而造成的误会的话，就也当笑话看吧。本作制作精良，特别是武戏表现很好。比如同样是游戏里已经烂大街的个人隐形科技，电影的观感比我看朋友玩《幽灵战士》或者自己玩《孤岛危机》的时候来得好。小说改编电影容易在剧情压缩上出问题，这部观感上剧情没有太大问题，对于动画电影来说非常不容易了。另外原制作公司倒闭了，作为后续接手完成的项目画面和剧情违和感不重倒也是难能可贵。有人说画面崩的比较多，不过在我看来与其说崩，不如说是画风风格有不协调的地方，可能和接手这件事有关。不是太介意画面的话，这点应该可以放心。（说句无关的：看STAFF表日语的委婉用词居然是用“破绽”啊……google搜索的时候还会自动匹配到“倒产”这个词。）不过本作也有缺点，最近看了2部日本的动画电影，都有文戏对比武戏演出效果差不少的问题。对比没有冷场的武戏，文戏总让我有一种快要神游于电影剧情之外的感觉。倒也不是说这部战斗以外的部分不好，只是对比起来还是差了一截。小小遗憾，总体感觉4星。

属于怀旧科幻，前一两年还挺流行。美国大萧条前的黄金时代、罗斯福当政时期、冷战前中期，这几个时间节点的美国挺迷人的。看第一集我以为是高堡奇人或者是升天号的路数，估计自己不会太喜欢，结果看到一半发现这个剧想表达的内核和小山宙哉的宇宙兄弟一样，都是致敬空间探索先驱无畏，和鼓励后来者勇往直前，算是一部合格的登月50周年献礼影片~

编剧野心不小，感觉这部片子可以拍至少三到四季。我是上豆瓣看影评才发现片子还有太空堡垒卡拉狄加的血统。里面政治正确元素不少，没办法，灯塔国国情如此。但如果你和我一样喜欢“务实”的太空题材，或是近未来题材的剧，这一部不要错过。

最后，有没有60-70年代中国航天的架空小说呀？比如曙光计划没有下马，中国把国旗和毛选带上月球；或者苏联老大哥走得早，中国接手了冷战接力棒，开始和美国太空竞赛之类的，有的话给推荐下。

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.

超喜欢阿黎（离）我黎美如画啊，第二季比第一季权谋确实弱了不少，剧情有点崩坏，进展节奏太快。但小哥哥演技实在进步太多，我黎在这部里简直演技炸裂啊!再次表白美人黎!表白大哥把这个角色诠释的那么好??不过还是要给编剧一个差评，前期我执萌萌智商强制下线编剧这个锅甩不掉啊！因为这个糟心的剧情扣掉一颗，但为了我的私心我的黎美人我再把这颗星加上??希望第三季我执离能不那么虐，执离大旗永不倒!PS:虽然我黎这部攻一脸，但私心还是执离??

【第一天,上帝创造了昼夜】［你所知道的兵工厂是什么样子？］是亲历的熟悉厂房车间如今的空荡与陌生？还是贾导电影里的工厂大门曾经如水涌出的人群如今物是人非的苍凉？你印象最浅的、最深的是什么。我们努力想要记得的、忘却的是什么。我是自小生活在这里的。国营5449厂。在中国不东不西的中部省份山西运城一个尴尬的小县城。厂子是不属于那个县城的，一个独立的个体，封闭、自给自足。很多人问我是哪里人的时候，我都会语塞。在贾导的电影之前，我没有看到过任何有关兵工厂的大幅宣扬，（798除外），这是有如上山下乡般的一场人生，给以一颗糖，一个铁饭碗，一个虚幻美好的承诺，而当幻灭的时候，人们甚至都忘了最初的梦想，忘记为这一切在历史争取一个小小的印痕。这里做过仿真飞机、做过仿真坦克，而当中国进入一个以经济为发展中心的时代时，这里所有的骄傲都褪去了色彩。那些意气风发从祖国各地调来的工程师，机械师们老了。他们年轻的孩子们都离开了这里。电影院已经很多年没有开了。有的墙皮已经开始剥落。曾经的歌舞生平，曾经的热闹光鲜。被时光越漂越白。越来越淡。年轻人越来越少了，有的在外上学，有的外出打工，有的出国，有的回乡。这里的老人们会在老年室下棋，会在球场边散步。不管认识不认识，他们都会对着你微笑。陌生而温暖的笑容。那些岁月的痕迹一点点皱起来。皱在老人们的脸上。又镀满阳光。他们都说着好听的普通话，微微有着沧桑和各地的乡音。他们是工人阶级，他们干了一辈子的是新中国的建设事业。他们一生最好的年华留在了这里。他们拿青春换了一座城池，又眼看着它的沦陷。清明节回家的路上，偶遇到了厂里的一个老师傅，五十岁左右，现在在一个广东建筑公司当项目经理，在长途汽车的两个小时，他用一种混浊的声音讲述5449厂，他的父亲曾经是这里的厂长。他说他不再知道自己故乡何处，他的父母都葬在了这里，他说曾经明亮的岁月，眼看着厂子走向颓败的心酸。临末，他悠悠地叹了句，不会所有的兵工厂子一下子都破产的。迟早还是有战争的，迟早这些兵工厂还是要再建的。“上帝说要有光，于是就有了光。”我们说要建国防，于是有了兵工厂。我们说要经济建设为中心，于是有了下岗。Are we the puppets of fate?Are we the puppets of communism?二十四桥仍在,波心动,冷月无声,念桥边红药,年年知为谁生?【所有历史褪色后的工人阶级】［你所知道的工人阶级是什么样子？］高夫曼说，真实的东西就是他或她对情景的定义。你对工人阶级如何定义呢？是贾导电影里的悲悲戚戚，曾经的呼风唤雨如今的江河日下？还是属于父辈们的名词，靠体力为生的职业？你是满怀对他们的尊敬还是一脸不屑？当今媒体对工人的报道还没有对农民工的报道多。所谓传播中的“议程设置”。 （“0/1”效果：大众传媒报道或不报道某个“议题”，会影响到公众对少数议题的感知。）而这也正是贾樟柯导演的聪明之处，他在填补一个又一个的空白点。（“0/1/2”效果：媒介对少数议题的突出强调，会引起公众对这些议题的突出重视。）我们以为我们逐步渐进了真相，实际上在媒体的操纵下，我们离真相越来越远。马克思主义认为，工人阶级是那些靠出卖劳动力(包括体力和脑力)、不拥有生产资料和生产工具，劳动成果大部分被资产阶级剥削，并为社会创造主要财富的阶层，包括大部分的体力和脑力劳动者。一个习惯被利用的阶级。我们真的当家作主了么？连贾导也免不了站在一个悲悯的高度来感怀工人阶级。赵涛口述的看到妈妈在工厂里干活哭的一塌糊涂的戏。其实那样的工作，在于我们在兵工厂里长大的孩子眼里，是很正常很光荣的事情。隐隐记得在我上学的时候，爸爸妈妈，虽然都是厂里子弟学校的老师，但在厂里活多的时候，也会去厂里干W板 ，一种金属合成非常重的板。所有的老师和厂里工人们通宵干。晚上的时候我一个人在家睡。非常害怕可还是觉得爸爸妈妈非常伟大。虽然他们干完活人累得能睡两天，虽然那时候，他们每个月的工资不到500，但他们都非常非常幸福，对于厂子，对于社会主义，对于经济建设，有着非常非常坚定的信仰。我们对三线建设了解多少呢？我们对工人阶级了解多少呢？我们对新中国了解多少呢？我们对党批评了多少又了解多少呢？我们的心有多浮躁，我们多么拼命地向前奔，向以经济建设为中心奔，我们总觉得前面又更好的等着这个社会。我们追求小资，追求精英，追求高人一等。真的有人认真学习科学发展观么？真的有人还在坚定普世价值么？【倒映在时代上的电影】我所认为电影与电视不同，一些电影应该往冷媒的方向发展。让我们动用更多的感官和联想活动来理解。真正好的电影，它们可以给我们带来一些思考。而不是过目即忘的消遣。从片名说起，二十四，420，同样的数字不同的组合。再加上念起来平平仄仄的诗“二十四城芙蓉花，锦官自昔称繁华”，让我很难和贾导被指责的商业动机联系起来。二十四，廿（niàn）四城，念四城。我喜欢这个片名。看到一些批评这部影片的评论。我想到了李普曼提出的“刻板成见”（人们对特定的事物所持的固定化、简单化的观念和印象，它统称伴随着对该事物的价值评价和好恶的感情)。我喜欢这部影片的叙事方式，喜欢这样的“伪纪录片”，喜欢吕丽萍拎着输液瓶穿过杂乱的家属区的家常感；喜欢陈冲悠悠然说：“他们以前都说我长得像陈冲，都叫我‘小花’”；喜欢看到陈建斌演的那一段，“子弟学校”、“灯光球场”、“幸子头”……人生的虚虚实实。他们使我不至于歇斯底里。他们在电影冲破我最后一道心理防线的时候，做了小小的铺垫。关于赵涛，贾导的御用女主角，其实我是喜欢她这样的女子的。她曾经是太原师范学院的舞蹈老师，没有后台，没有什么资本，她没有学院派大腕的背景，她只是本然。如果执意要说她出演是80后的女孩是败笔的话，只是年龄上有微微不符，可重要的还是表现。城市渐渐溶入暮色，她望向窗外的眼光让我觉得非常非常的悲伤。我也想给爸爸妈妈在大城市买座房子了。在学长的博客上看到这样的话语：“暴富的煤老板+N多的酸酸的大学生+几千年的历史=那么多诗意的楼盘”。说的是西安。临汾也一样。重庆呢？中国更多的地方呢？听听那些楼盘的名字，我觉得那些名字是最有中国气息的招牌。它让我们想起大唐盛世，它让我们忆起所有的荣耀，它是诗是梦是诱惑。因为太美好，又像是罪恶。像青楼的女子，美好又危险。“穿过我青春的所有说谎的日子/我在阳光下招摇我的枝叶和花朵/现在我可以枯萎成为真理”电影每黑一次屏，我就哭一次。陪我一起看的爸爸忍不住不屑，“哭什么哭，这不和咱们厂一样么？你可以不看的，到厂里走一趟，随便问几个人，就是这个样子。”爸爸是数学老师，永远在用一种理性的角度审视，我做不到。我感动于贾导元叙事的手法，他自觉地暴露电影的虚构过程，产生间离效果；感动于那些空镜头，把沧桑巨变化成一种隐忍和浅淡；感动那些黑屏上的诗，艺术与生活的一体就是美，是悲悯我们的民族困境。我觉得，《二十四城》可以和《公民凯恩》媲美，虽备受争议，但无疑会被证明是一部伟大的作品。夏花宿妆残，有些东西消逝的时候别有一番美丽。兵工厂如此，一个时代如此，一种悲凄的不可复制的魂牵梦绕。贾樟柯的电影也是如此，只有安下心，看到最后，等到一切落幕之后，你才会知道它带给了你怎样的镜花水月，怎样的真实。