作为一位电影的爱好者,看到詹姆斯卡梅隆、斯皮尔伯格、诺兰等大牌坐在一起面对面聊聊科幻电影,兴奋不已。
AMC最近出了部纪录片,詹姆斯·卡梅隆联合一圈大佬聊科幻。
比如斯皮尔伯格,等同一级别的大佬。还有最近很火的刘宇昆。
作为一位电影的爱好者,看到詹姆斯卡梅隆、斯皮尔伯格、诺兰等大牌坐在一起面对面聊聊科幻电影,兴奋不已。
AMC最近出了部纪录片,詹姆斯·卡梅隆联合一圈大佬聊科幻。
比如斯皮尔伯格,等同一级别的大佬。还有最近很火的刘宇昆。
本人是个情景喜剧爱好者,从《老友记》到《搞笑一家人》到《武林外传》都是我反复看了好几遍的(暴露年纪系列。。。)。说起来自从我追完了《生活大爆炸》《摩登家庭》《破产姐妹》之后,就有日子没入坑新的情景喜剧了。某日中午吃饭想刷个泡面番度过个轻松的中午的时候,无意刷到了裤的这部沙雕短剧,被背景故事吸引了,女主去和亲,结果当地的国王却通知她她要同时嫁给五个亲兄弟,很好,很刺激……而且反正一集才三五分钟
本人是个情景喜剧爱好者,从《老友记》到《搞笑一家人》到《武林外传》都是我反复看了好几遍的(暴露年纪系列。。。)。说起来自从我追完了《生活大爆炸》《摩登家庭》《破产姐妹》之后,就有日子没入坑新的情景喜剧了。某日中午吃饭想刷个泡面番度过个轻松的中午的时候,无意刷到了裤的这部沙雕短剧,被背景故事吸引了,女主去和亲,结果当地的国王却通知她她要同时嫁给五个亲兄弟,很好,很刺激……而且反正一集才三五分钟的可以先看看。然后我就一口气先看了7、8、9十几二十集吧……这剧真的有毒啊,太沙雕太搞笑了,梗也有意思不老套,看了根本停不下来就像嗑了炫迈。我真的按头安利喜欢无厘头、沙雕、情景喜剧、泡面番这种剧的同好一定要看这部剧,尤其女主接受采访,参加选秀那几集,真的笑到我头掉!而且我认真讲,虽然不是什么大制作,但剧的质感是真的可以,服化道啥的审美也挺在线的不辣眼。唯一让我抓狂的就是一集三分钟,然后有77集!答应我,若有下一季,每集长一点,集数短一点好吗,因为就算我跳得过那77次片头片尾,卑微的非会员贫民窟女孩也跳不过那该死的广告!真的就那几个广告真给我看yue了,扣一星!还有一个刷弹幕的时候看到好多嫌弃女主丑的,说因为这个被劝退的,不是,你们看个喜剧为啥要被演员的颜值劝退,让沈腾、黄渤、王宝强、贾玲、辣目洋子怎么办?(沈腾、黄渤、王宝强、贾玲、辣目洋子对不起我只是举个栗子~)毕竟喜剧重点就是要好笑,再说国外的例子,就《生活大爆炸》那几个主演也不好看啊,看久了还不是就很顺眼了。最后总结一下就是,我感觉现在过场情景剧越来越少了,是不是自从某公寓完结之后就木有了,古装的更没有见过。希望以后国产的情景喜剧可以多一点,期待一下这部剧的第二季,over~
最近推送的影片大都平淡无奇,看点不多,谈资不足,今天换种口味,引荐一部神奇的北欧作品,绝对让你拍手称奇!
北欧影片《Thelma》(西尔玛)
作品类型:剧情、奇幻
最近推送的影片大都平淡无奇,看点不多,谈资不足,今天换种口味,引荐一部神奇的北欧作品,绝对让你拍手称奇! 北欧影片《Thelma》(西尔玛) 作品类型:剧情、奇幻 主要演员:Eili Harboe(饰演Thelma)... 剧情概述:Thelma的魔幻人生 上映时间:2017年9月15日在挪威上映 快进着看都不能阻挡这部剧的夸张,不上升到演员本人,我是真的觉得这些主角配角的脸很出戏,文咏珊已经是最出彩的了,但还是表情、嘴很奇怪,更不要说小昭和周芷若以及众多配角的网红脸了,奇奇怪怪的双眼皮、尖下巴,真的是救命了!我觉得全篇最好看的是陈紫函的紫衫龙王,气质还是有的!灭绝师太出场我都要笑了,太村儿了!跟周芷若真像娘俩,最后周芷若黑化后对着灭绝的灵位吐槽,好 快进着看都不能阻挡这部剧的夸张,不上升到演员本人,我是真的觉得这些主角配角的脸很出戏,文咏珊已经是最出彩的了,但还是表情、嘴很奇怪,更不要说小昭和周芷若以及众多配角的网红脸了,奇奇怪怪的双眼皮、尖下巴,真的是救命了!我觉得全篇最好看的是陈紫函的紫衫龙王,气质还是有的!灭绝师太出场我都要笑了,太村儿了!跟周芷若真像娘俩,最后周芷若黑化后对着灭绝的灵位吐槽,好神奇的操作 虚无可能不是起点,但它肯定是终点。死亡自然是最直接明显的终点。虚无的一种表现是丧失缘由,没有解释。"That's it"。如妻子(还是妹妹?)回到墨西哥问Niel "what's the matter?" Nail没有给于任何解释,只有一个非解释的表达--”nothing“。 Nothing 并不是一种描 虚无可能不是起点,但它肯定是终点。死亡自然是最直接明显的终点。虚无的一种表现是丧失缘由,没有解释。"That's it"。如妻子(还是妹妹?)回到墨西哥问Niel "what's the matter?" Nail没有给于任何解释,只有一个非解释的表达--”nothing“。 Nothing 并不是一种描述,因为描述需要有被描述的对象,无论对象存在与否。此处"nothing"就像你被打时候喊出的“啊”。Nothing是虚无的语言符号,而此语言符号并不具有描述或谓述功能。 Nial的虚无还表现在他不再拥有对人类构建之物的欲望,这类构建之物中最迷最有吸引力的当然是钱了。但Nail说,“I'm not interested in money". 当一个人对钱不感兴趣了,就很可怕了;当他不怕死了(Nail似乎也不怕死,他对海边的刺杀无感,他也毫无畏惧地离开医院),那更可怕。他剩下的只是作为生物体的自然反应,比如饥饿和性欲,这些反应就像膝跳反射一样,是不需要解释的。你不需要说为了什么我才有膝跳反射。Nail在签完资产转让协议后,问她要不要吃饭,诧异的看着他(你怎么能在这种时候如此轻松谈一起吃饭问题),妻子赋予了一起吃饭社会属性,但Nail则不是,他只说,我饿。而在旅店里,他和情人也只是不断地做爱,没有具体交流,所以并没有社会norm下建构的爱(当然做爱都做不好,大概也很难有爱吧)。 不好意思没搞清是妻子还是妹妹LOL 15年了还拍那些脑残的偶像剧,偶像剧虽然现在也不少吧,可是能不能现实点啊。1.女主挑着扁担去上学,就算生活在深山老林里,也不能一点也不知道现在社会的发展现状啊2.女主看见有人被欺凌,路见不平,拔刀相助,这和楚雨荨差不多吧。3.还是什么几大家族,上贵族学校,全校女主围着那几个股东家的大少爷转,还必有一个贵族家的小姐喜欢男主,为了和男主在一起千方百计陷害女主,方法呢就是挑衅啊、把女主锁住啊、绑架 15年了还拍那些脑残的偶像剧,偶像剧虽然现在也不少吧,可是能不能现实点啊。1.女主挑着扁担去上学,就算生活在深山老林里,也不能一点也不知道现在社会的发展现状啊2.女主看见有人被欺凌,路见不平,拔刀相助,这和楚雨荨差不多吧。3.还是什么几大家族,上贵族学校,全校女主围着那几个股东家的大少爷转,还必有一个贵族家的小姐喜欢男主,为了和男主在一起千方百计陷害女主,方法呢就是挑衅啊、把女主锁住啊、绑架啊。不过到最后都会悔过的。 唉,不过颜值还不错。就酱吧 十年啊,演员都成熟了,青春也渐渐逝去了~终于看完整个系列,虽然剧情不完美,但还是感动于七人之间的友情,还有真佳和慎司的爱情。中间一度看得很难过,真的太现实了,很感慨啊~ 但是最后一部sp实在让人心碎。编剧为了强行让男女主在一起,剧情拗得太别扭!也没看出男主有什么好!不拍最后一部就好了,给优介留点希望,也让观众留点念想啊?? 十年啊,演员都成熟了,青春也渐渐逝去了~终于看完整个系列,虽然剧情不完美,但还是感动于七人之间的友情,还有真佳和慎司的爱情。中间一度看得很难过,真的太现实了,很感慨啊~ 但是最后一部sp实在让人心碎。编剧为了强行让男女主在一起,剧情拗得太别扭!也没看出男主有什么好!不拍最后一部就好了,给优介留点希望,也让观众留点念想啊?? FEBRUARY 1997 MARIE BRENNERDAN WINTERSThe search warrant was short and succinct, dated August 3, 9:41 A.M. F.B.I. special agent Diader Rosario was instructed to produce "hair samples (twenty-five pulled and twenty-five combed hairs from the head)" of Richard Allensworth Jewell. That Saturday, Atlanta was humid; the temperature would rise to 85 degrees. There were 34 Olympic events scheduled, including women's team handball, but Richard Jewell was in his mother's apartment playing Defender on a computer set up in the spare bedroom. Jewell hadn't slept at all the night before, or the night before that. He could hear the noise from the throng of reporters massed on the hill outside the small apartment in the suburbs. All morning long, he had been focused on the screen, trying to score off "the little guy who goes back and forth shooting the aliens," but at 12:30 the sound of the telephone disturbed his concentration. Very few people had his new number, by necessity unlisted. Since the F.B.I. had singled him out as the Olympic Park bombing suspect three days earlier, Jewell had received approximately 1,000 calls a day—someone had posted his mother's home number on the Internet."I'll be right over," his lawyer Watson Bryant told him. "They want your hair, they want your palm prints, and they want something called a voice exemplar—the goddamn bastards." The curtains were drawn in the pastel apartment filled with his mother's crafts and samplers; A HOME WITHOUT A DOG IS JUST A HOUSE, one read. By this time Bryant had a system. He would call Jewell from his car phone so that the door could be unlatched and Bryant could avoid the questions from the phalanx of reporters on the hill.Turning into the parking lot in a white Explorer, Bryant could see sound trucks parked up and down Buford Highway. The middle-class neighborhood of apartment complexes and shopping centers was near the DeKalb Peachtree Airport, where local millionaires kept their private planes. The moment Bryant got out of his car, the reporters began to shout: "Hey, Watson, do they have the murderer?" "Are they arresting Jewell?" Bryant moved quickly toward the staircase to the Jewells' apartment. He wore a baseball cap, khaki shorts, and a frayed Brooks Brothers polo shirt. He was 45 years old, with strong features and thinning hair, a southern preppy from a country-club family. Bryant had a stern demeanor lightened by a contrarian's sense of the absurd. He was often distracted—from time to time he would miss his exits on the highway—and he had the regional tendency of defining himself by explaining what he was not. "I am not a Democrat, because they want your money. I am not a Republican, because they take your rights away," he told me soon after I met him. Bryant can talk your ear off about the Bill of Rights, ending with a flourish: "I think everyone ought to have the right to be stupid. I am a Libertarian."At the time Richard Jewell was named as a suspect by the F.B.I., Watson Bryant made a modest living by doing real-estate closings in the suburbs, but Jewell and his lawyer had formed an unusual friendship a decade earlier, when Jewell worked as a mailroom clerk at a federal disaster-relief agency where Bryant practiced law. Jewell was then a stocky kid without a father, who had trained as an auto mechanic but dreamed of being a policeman; Bryant had always had a soft spot for oddballs and strays, a personality quirk which annoyed his then wife no end.The serendipity of this friendship, an alliance particularly southern in its eccentricity, would bring Watson Bryant to the immense task of attempting to save Richard Jewell from the murky quagmire of a national terrorism case. The simple fact was that Bryant had no qualifications for the job. He had no legal staff except for his assistant, Nadya Light, no contacts in the press, and no history in Washington. He was the opposite of media-savvy; he rarely read the papers and never watched the nightly news, preferring the Discovery Channel's shows on dog psychology. Now that Richard Jewell was his client, he had entered a zone of worldwide media hysteria fraught with potential peril. Jewell suspected that his pickup truck had been flown in a C-130 transport plane to the F.B.I. unit at Quantico in Virginia, and Bryant worried that his friend would be arrested any minute. Worse, Bryant knew that he had nothing going for him, no levers anywhere. His only asset was his personality; he had the bravado and profane hyperbole of a southern rich boy, but he was in way over his head.For hours that Saturday, Bryant and Jewell sat and waited for the F.B.I. From time to time Jewell would put binoculars under the drawn curtain in his mother's bedroom to peer at the reporters on the hill. Bryant was nervous that Jewell's mother, Bobi, would return from baby-sitting and see her son having hairs pulled out of his head. Bryant stalked around the apartment complaining about the F.B.I. "The sons of bitches did not show up until three P.M.," he later recalled, and when they did, there were five of them. The F.B.I. medic was tall and muscular and wore rubber gloves. He asked Jewell to sit at a small round table in the living room, where his mother puts her holiday-theme displays. Bryant stood by the sofa next to a portrait of Jewell in his Habersham County deputy's uniform. He watched the F.B.I. procedure carefully. The medic, who had huge hands, used tiny drugstore tweezers. "He eyeballed his scalp and took his hair in sections. First he ran a comb through it, and then he took these hairs and plucked them out one by one."Jewell "went stone-cold," but Bryant could not contain his temper. "I am his lawyer. I know you can have this, I know you have a search warrant, but I tell you this: If you were doing this to me, you would have to fight me. You would have to beat the shit out of me," Bryant recalled telling the case agent Ed Bazar. Bazar, Bryant later said, was apologetic. "He seemed almost embarrassed to be there." As he counted out the hairs, he placed them in an envelope. The irony of the situation was not lost on Bryant. He was a lawyer, an officer of the court, but he had a disdain for authority, and he was representing a former deputy who read the Georgia law code for fun in his spare time.It took 10 minutes to pluck Jewell's thick auburn hair. Then the F.B.I. agents led him into the kitchen and took his palm prints on the table. "That took 30 minutes, and they got ink all over the table," Bryant said. Then Bazar told Bryant they wanted Jewell to sit on the sofa and say into the telephone, "There is a bomb in Centennial Park. You have 30 minutes." That was the message given by the 911 caller on the night of the bombing. He was to repeat the message 12 times. Bryant saw the possibility of phony evidence and of his client's going to jail. "I said, 'I am not sure about this. Maybe you can do this, maybe you can't, but you are not doing this today.'"All afternoon, Jewell was strangely quiet. He had a sophisticated knowledge of police work and believed, he later said, "they must have had some evidence if they wanted my hair. ... I knew their game was intimidation. That is why they brought five agents instead of two." He felt "violated and humiliated," he told me, but he was passive, even docile, through Bryant's outburst. He thought of the bombing victims— Alice Hawthorne, the 44-year-old mother from Albany, Georgia, at the park with her stepdaughter; Melih Uzunyol, the Turkish cameraman who died of a heart attack; the more than 100 people taken to area hospitals, some of whom were his friends. "I kept thinking, These guys think I did this. These guys were accusing me of murder. This was the biggest case in the nation and the world. If they could pin it on me, they were going to put me in the electric chair."I met Richard Jewell three months later, on October 28, a few hours before a press conference called by his lawyers to allow Jewell to speak publicly for the first time since the F.B.I. had cleared him. Jewell's lawyers also intended to announce that they would file damage suits against NBC and The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. It was a Monday, and that weekend the local U.S. attorney had delivered a letter to one of the lawyers stating Jewell was no longer a suspect. "Goddamn it," Bryant had told me on the phone, "the sons of bitches did not even have the decency to address it to Richard Jewell."I had been instructed to come early to the offices of Wood & Grant, the flashy plaintiff lawyers Bryant had pulled in to help him with Jewell's civil suits. When I arrived, I was alone in the office with Sharon Anderson, the redheaded assistant answering the phones. "Wood & Grant . . . Wood & Grant . . . Wood & Grant"—the calls overwhelmed her. Lin Wood and Wayne Grant were rushing from CNN to the local NBC and ABC affiliates, working the shows. "Everyone has theories of who the real bomber is," Sharon said. "I just write it all down and give it to the boys."When Lin Wood arrived, he was still in full makeup. Movie-star handsome with green eyes and styled hair, Wood has the heated oratory of a trial lawyer. "It's a war! Why in this bevy of stories does not anyone point out the fact that Richard was a hero one day and a demon the next? They have destroyed this man's life!"Watson Bryant had worked with Wood and Grant years before in a local law firm. He admired Wayne Grant for his methodical sense of detail; Grant, a New Yorker, had once forced the city of Atlanta to pay large damages to a man injured while illegally digging for antique bottles in a park. But Lin Wood's suppressed rage was a marvel to Bryant. "He is so tough he could make people cry in depositions when we were kids," Bryant told me. Wood possessed the smooth style of a member of the Atlanta establishment, but he had a hardscrabble past. He was a boy from "the wrong side of the tracks" in Macon who at age 17 discovered his mother's body after his father had murdered her. His father went to jail, and Wood wound up as a lawyer. He went through college and law school on scholarships and with part-time jobs. I could hear Wood on Sharon's telephone: "He's more than innocent. He's a goddamn hero. . . . Everyone is going to pay who wronged Richard Jewell. Besides NBC and The A.J.C., we are going to look into suing CNN and Jay Leno."Through the large picture window, I had a clear view of the remains of the Centennial Olympic Park, where the bomb had exploded on the night of July 26. Where the sound-and-light tower had once been, there was now a flattened dirt field. It was possible to see the Greek commemorative sculpture that Richard Jewell used to describe for tourists at the AT&T pavilion, where he worked as a security guard.Suddenly, Jewell was in the room. "Hi. I'm Richard. I'm a little late. I don't want you to think I am rude. I am not like that." He had an open face, a bland pleasantness, an eagerness to please. "Can I get you a Coke?" he asked me. "How about some coffee?" Jewell wore a blue-and-white striped shirt and chinos. He occupied physical space like a teenager; he sprawled, he lumbered, he pawed through Sharon's candy bowl. On TV his face had a porcine blankness; he appeared suspicious. In person, Jewell has a hard time disguising his emotions.We were alone in the conference room; I noticed that Jewell avoided looking out the window toward the park. He shifted his glance nervously away from the view. He often awakens in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, thinking of the events in the park in the early morning hours of July 27. "It took me days before I could even come in here," he said anxiously.The newsroom atmosphere resembled that at F.B.I. headquarters; there was a frenzy to be first.When Jewell noticed a local ABC reporter outside near Sharon's desk, his face darkened. "I don't want to be around reporters right now. I guess I am a little nervous. What is he doing here?" The atmosphere was now filled with tension; the reporter was escorted out.Moments later, we gathered in the hallway. Wood was steely: "We are going in two cars. Richard, you drive with me. Your mother will go with Wayne. As we walk down the hall right now, if the ABC people are outside, I will tap you on the shoulder and I will say, 'How are you doing?' You will say, 'Fine.' Is that understood?" "O.K., Lin. I understand," Jewell said quietly, head bowed.As Jewell walked down the hall, an ABC cameraman photographed him looking grim. Seconds after the elevator doors closed, Jewell exploded: "What are they doing here, Lin? Did you invite them? They are animals. Why didn't you get them out of here?""ABC has been good to you. How do I get them out of the office on the day of your press conference?""That is what security is for!" Jewell said, quivering with rage. "Where is Watson?" he asked in the garage. "I told you: he's at a real-estate closing. He will meet you at the press conference," Wood said. Jewell moved to his mother's side, as solicitous as a child. "Are you all right, Mother?" he asked. "It is all I am going to be able to do not to do something!" she said angrily.When we arrived at the Marriott hotel on 1-75, there was another discussion in the parking lot, about who would walk with whom in front of the cameras. Jewell turned to his close friend Dave Dutchess: "Are you all right, man?" Dutchess, a truckdriver who worked with Jewell years ago, has long hair and a tattoo of a panther on his forearm. "Richard and I are like brothers," he told me. "I would die for him." As the cameras closed in on them, the group fled to a private room in the Marriott. The auditorium was filled with reporters. "Showtime! Showtime!" the cameramen yelled when Jewell, his mother, and all the lawyers took the stage."I hope and pray that no one else is ever subjected to the pain and the ordeal that I have gone through," Jewell said, his voice breaking. "The authorities should keep in mind the rights of the citizens. I thank God it is ended and that you now know what I have known all along: I am an innocent man."After the press conference, Bobi and Richard Jewell remained in a private room. The bookers from Good Morning America and the Today show pressed Jewell to step before their cameras, and when Watson Bryant told them no, Monica, the G.M.A. booker, began to cry, "I'll lose my job." Then Yael, the Today-show booker, cornered Nadya Light: "Is Richard doing something with G.M.A.?'Upstairs, Jewell and his mother were being filmed by a CBS camera crew for a 60 Minutes news update. "Well, Bobi, did you get your Tupperware back?" Mike Wallace asked by phone from New York. "Richard, you need to lose some more weight." Despite Wallace's festive spirit, the atmosphere was curiously flat. Bryant urged Jewell to talk to a USA Today reporter. Jewell balked: "They can all go suck wind."In the car on the way back to Wood & Grant, Bobi was angry. All of her possessions had come back from the F.B.I. marked up with ink. "Every piece of Tupperware I own is ruined, thank you very much. They wrote numbers all over it, and I have tried everything to clean it—Comet and Brillo—but nothing works."Back at the office, she sat on the sofa and listened as Bryant negotiated with Yael for a flight to New York— Delta, first-class, 9:30 P.M. Jewell was scheduled to appear on three shows in New York, visit the American Museum of Natural History, and then fly to Washington, D.C., for Larry King Live. "I would like to go home, put on my outfit, and walk in the woods," Bobi said. "Richard, we are leaving.""Yes, ma'am," Richard said.One hour later, a telephone call came in to the offices of Wood & Grant. The lawyers had the call on speaker, and it blared through the room. "Goddamn it, Lin. When will this be over?" In the background, you could hear Bobi sobbing. "What in the world?" Wood asked. Jewell explained that a sound truck from ABC had been waiting in the parking lot when the Jewells got home. There had been words and threats, and Dave Dutchess had taken his stun gun off his motorcycle and waved it at the ABC van. The cameraman yelled: Stop harassing us! Dave yelled back: You are harassing us! Now get your ass out of here!Wood shouted into the speakerphone: "Do not meddle! You cannot jeopardize where you have gotten to and what you want to do! All you have to do is put up with this for one more day and the damn thing is over. Bobi, there is nothing you can do about it; you have to stay cool." Bobi cried back, "They are going to destroy me!"The moment they hung up, Wood turned to Bryant. "New York is canceled. No Katie Couric. No Good Morning America. They are losing it. You better call Yael." "No," Bryant said, "they have lost it. All of the above: their patience, their temper and heart."That evening a very testy Katie Couric tracked Bryant down at Nadya Light's apartment, where we had gone to watch the news. "I want you to know that I canceled interviewing Barbra Streisand in L.A. for Richard Jewell. Don't think he is always going to be a news story. No one will care about him in three days," she said, according to Bryant. "Look, Katie, I am sorry. But Richard is in no condition to talk to the press. He is worn out," Bryant told her.Later, Jewell would tell me that that day, which should have been one of his most satisfying, was actually his worst. His notoriety had tainted the triumph; everything positive had become negative. "I was in despair," he said. As he had for most of the previous 88 days, he spent the night confined in the Buford Highway apartment, a prisoner of his circumstances, with his mother, Dave Dutchess, and Dave's fiancee, Beatty, eating Domino's Pizza and watching himself lead the newscasts on NBC, CBS, and ABC."This case has everything—the F.B.I., the press, the violation of the Bill of Rights from the First to the Sixth Amendment."'This case has everything— the F.B.I., the press, the violation of the Bill of Rights, from the First to the Sixth Amendment," Watson Bryant told me in one of our first conversations. It has become common to characterize the F.B.I.'s investigation of Richard Jewell as the epitome of false accusation. The phrase "the Jewell syndrome," a rush to judgment, has entered the language of newsrooms and First Amendment forums. On the night of Jewell's press conference, a commentator on CNN's Crossfire compared Jewell's situation to "Kafka in Prague." The case became an investigative catastrophe, which laid bare long-simmering resentments of many F.B.I. career professionals regarding the micromanagement style and imperious attitude of Louis Freeh and his inner circle of former New York prosecutors, who have worked together since their days at the U.S. Attorney's Office in the Southern District. Within the bureau, the beleaguered director now has a new nickname: J. Edgar Hoover with children. Like Freeh, those near him have also acquired a nickname: Louie's yes-men. Two of Freeh's closest associates, F.B.I. general counsel Howard Shapiro and former deputy director Larry Potts, have been severely criticized, respectively, for advising the White House of confidential F.B.I. material and for an alleged cover-up of the mishandling of the 1992 standoff at Ruby Ridge, where F.B.I. agents killed the wife and son of Randy Weaver, a white supremacist.In November and December, the Office of Professional Responsibility conducted an exhaustive investigation into the Jewell affair. Responding to an attempt by headquarters and certain officials to distance themselves, according to F.B.I. sources, several agents, including a senior F.B.I. supervisor in Atlanta, have provided the O.P.R. with signed statements insisting that Freeh himself was responsible for "oversight" during the crisis. These agents "shocked the investigators" because they reiterated, when asked who was in charge of the overall command of the investigation, that it was the director himself.What happened to Richard Jewell raises an important question central to Freeh's future tenure: in the midst of a media frenzy, does the F.B.I. have any responsibility to protect the privacy of an innocent man? Over the last year, this concept was broached with Bob Bucknam, Louis Freeh's chief of staff. During the long Pizza Connection trial in the 1980s, it was Bucknam who handed Freeh files at the prosecutor's table. According to highly placed sources in the bureau, Bucknam's answer was immediate: the F.B.I. has no responsibility to correct information in the public domain.Richard Jewell had a reverence for authority that blinded him to the paradox of his situation. He idealized the investigative skills of the F.B.I. and could not understand that he had become ensnared in a web fraught with the weaknesses of a self-protective bureaucracy. Pennsylvania senator Arlen Specter has invited Jewell to Washington to testify at congressional hearings on the F.B.I.'s conduct in the Atlanta bombing. Ironically, the bungling of the investigation might lead to the reshuffling of personalities at the top of the bureau and threaten Freeh's reputation. In October, according to The Washington Post, Freeh sent an unusual memo to all 25,000 F.B.I. personnel: He would not be abandoning his post amid reports of problems with the Jewell case and Filegate, and of a growing dissatisfaction inside the bureau. "I am proud to be the F.B.I. director," Freeh wrote.From the beginning, Jewell was perceived in the public imagination as a hapless dummy, a plodding misfit, a Forrest Gump. On one of the first days he worked as a security guard at the AT&T pavilion, he noticed that his co-workers were covering the steps inside the sound tower with graffiti. On one step Jewell scrawled with a flourish two bromides: IF YOU DIDN'T GO PAST ME, YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE and LIFE IS TOUGH. TOUGHER WHEN YOU ARE STUPID. Soon after he was targeted as a suspect in the Olympics bombing, the F.B.I. confiscated the step. Analysts appeared to believe that the graffiti contained a clue to his character. "They told the lawyers the statement was an obvious taunt," Jewell said. In fact, the second line was an expression he had cribbed from one of his favorite actors, John Wayne.Within the F.B.I., the beleaguered director has a new nickname: J. Edgar Hoover with children."To understand Richard Jewell, you have to be aware that he is a cop. He talks like a cop and thinks like a cop," his criminal lawyer, Jack Martin, told me. The tone of Jewell's voice drops noticeably when he says the word "officer," and his conversation is filled with observations about traffic patterns, security devices, and car wrecks. Even the vocabulary he uses to describe the 88 days he was a suspect is out of the lexicon of police work, and he continues to talk about his situation then in the present tense: "This is an out-and-out ambush, and I am a hostage."Jewell has a need to accommodate. He can be startlingly opaque. On the afternoon of July 30, Jewell answered the door of his mother's apartment to Don Johnson and Diader Rosario from the F.B.I. "We need your help making a training film," they told him. "I never questioned it," he told me. The next day Rosario appeared again with a search warrant. "The weird thing was that when they were searching my apartment I was, like, 'Take everything. Take the carpet. I am law enforcement. I am just like you. Guys, take whatever you are going to take, because it is going to prove that I didn't do anything.' And a couple of them were looking at me like I was crazy."Leaving the apartment on one occasion, he told the agents, "I am wearing a bright shirt so y'all can see me easier." He recalled feeling anger when he read descriptions of himself as a child-man, a mama's boy, and "a wannabe policeman," but he said, "If I was in the place of everybody else and I saw a 34-year-old guy living with his mother, I would have reservations about that, too. I would think, Why is he doing that?"The December issue of Atlanta magazine reported that there was no record of a Jewell family in Danville, Virginia, where Richard Jewell was born. Atlanta referred to an article in the Danville Register & Bee which asked, "Did Richard Jewell ever sleep here?" "This is a part of my life Richard and I do not like to speak about," Bobi Jewell told me one night at dinner. Richard was born in Danville, but his name was Richard White; his father was Bobi's first husband, Robert Earl White, who worked for Chevrolet. According to Bobi, Richard's father, who died recently, was "irresponsible and a ladies' man." When Richard was four, the marriage broke up. Bobi found work as an insurance-agency claims coordinator and soon met John Jewell, an executive in the same business. Shortly after John Jewell married Bobi, he adopted Richard.From the time Richard was a child, he and his mother were a unit. Bobi, a woman of intelligence and disciplined work habits, is both tender and tough on the subject of her son. She still calls Richard "my boy," but she has a peppery disposition. Richard was brought up in a strict Baptist home. "If I didn't say 'Yes, ma'am' or 'No, ma'am' and get it out quick enough, I would be on the ground," he said. When he was six, the family moved to Atlanta. Richard was the boy who helped the teachers and worked as a school crossing guard, but he had few friends in high school. "I was a wannabe athlete, but I wasn't good enough," he said. He ran the movie projector in the library. A military-history buff, he liked to talk about Napoleon and the Vietnam War and read books on both World Wars.Jewell's ambition was to work on cars, so he enrolled in a technical school in southern Georgia. On his third day there, Bobi discovered that her husband had packed a suitcase. "He left a note saying that he was a failure and no good for us," Jewell said. Almost immediately, Richard moved back home and took a job repairing cars. "My mom and I tried to take care of each other," he said. "I think I handled it pretty much better than she did." Richard took the brunt of his father's abandonment; Bobi pulled even closer to her son. "She hated all men for about three years after that, and she became overly protective of me. She looked at it that I was going to do the same thing that my dad did. I was 18 or 19. I was working. She never liked my dates, but I never held that against her. We have always been able to lean on each other."Richard managed a local TCBY yogurt shop and once stopped a burglary in progress. At the age of 22, he was hired as a clerk at the Small Business Administration, and he impressed Watson Bryant and the other lawyers in the office with his personable nature. They called him Radar because of his efficiency. "You could say, 'I'm hungry,' and suddenly this kid would be by your side with a Snickers bar," Bryant recalled. When Jewell's contract with the S.B.A. ran out, he moved on to be a Marriott house detective. In 1990 he was hired as a jailer in the Habersham County Sheriff's Office, and in 1991 he became a deputy. As part of his training, he was sent to the Northeast Georgia Police Academy, where he finished in the upper 25 percent of his class. He finally had an identity; he was a law-enforcement officer.Jewell was unlucky in love. He presented one woman with an engagement ring, and later, in Habersham County, he would give another a large wooden key with a sign that read, THIS IS THE KEY TO UNLOCK YOUR HEART, but both relationships came apart. In northern Georgia, Jewell worked nights and became wedded to his job. By his own description, he was methodical. "I am the kind of person who plans everything. I like to go from A to B to C to D. This going from A to D and arguing over everything—I say no." Habersham County, a scenic part of the piney woods in Georgia's Bible Belt, was for Jewell like "leaving the 1990s and going into the 1970s in terms of law enforcement." Many rich Atlantans have country houses in the mountains, but the small towns of Demorest and Charlottesville are relatively undeveloped, reminding one of Jewell's lawyers of the scenery in the movie Deliverance. "If you get lost up there, you might find a guy with a bow and arrow," the lawyer said.Recently, Jewell and I took the 90-minute drive from Atlanta to Habersham County, which has acres of apple orchards. The leaves were turning, and the roads were mostly deserted. In the towns, however, were stores, apple stands, and even a good Chinese restaurant. As Jewell's blue pickup truck turned into the parking lot of a shopping center, several people came out to greet him.Jewell had lived in a small yellow house up a steep rocky driveway. On the day we visited, the current resident's Halloween decorations were still up, as were faded white satin ribbons hanging from many trees, remnants of a campaign to clear Richard Jewell organized by area friends. Jewell had lived 50 yards from the Chattahoochee River near a kayak-and-canoe tourist concession on a main road—not in a "cabin in the woods," as several reports stated after the bombing. He worked the night shift, and when he would arrive home at dawn, he told me, he could look up and "see a sky filled with stars."He was not a loner; he made friends with several local families. He would often leave a box of Dunkin' Donuts on friends' porches at four A.M. During the O. J. Simpson trial, he and the other deputies would meet in the turnaround on Highway 985 in the middle of the night and review the day's events and the bungling by the Los Angeles Police Department. Jewell would later be annoyed that the F.B.I. confiscated his copy of former prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi's account of the trial. Jewell dated a local girl, Sheree Chastain, and had a close relationship with her family.Jewell had a complex history working at the Habersham County Sheriff's Office. When he was still a jailer, he arrested a couple making too much noise in a hot tub at an apartment building where he did part-time security work. He was arrested for impersonating an officer and, after pleading guilty to a lesser charge, was placed on probation on the condition that he seek psychological counseling.By his own estimation, Jewell's strength as a cop was "working car wrecks." He had his mother's diligence; he worked 14 hours a day and organized a safety fair. Later in 1995 he wrecked his patrol car and was demoted to working in the jail. Rick Moore, a local deputy, advised him to accept the job, but Jewell despised the jailhouse atmosphere. He told me, "It was a small room filled with cigarette smoke. I couldn't take it." He resigned, and in a short time he moved to a police job at Piedmont College, a liberal-arts school with approximately 1,000 students on the main road in Demorest. The college police had jurisdiction only on campus and in an area extending out 500 feet. Jewell chased cars speeding down the highway and had arguments over turf with other officers. He was instrumental in several arrests, including that of a suspected burglar he discovered hiding at the top of a tree. For his work on a volunteer rescue squad, he was named a citizen of the year.According to Brad Mattear, a former resident director, Piedmont was a school of "P.K.'s"—preachers' kids. It was 80 percent Baptist with a strict no-drinking rule. The college had many rebellious students, according to Mattear, kids who were "away from home for the first time and wanted to party and drink." Mattear knew Jewell well and recalled his good manners and playful nature. "It was always 'Yes, sir' and 'Yes, ma'am.'" Jewell would tell students, "I know y'all are going to drink. Don't do it on campus."Jewell felt confined by his boundaries and could be heavy-handed when it came to writing out reports on minor infractions. Once when we were driving by the campus, he pointed to a small brick dormitory. "That was where all the partying would go on," he told me. Jewell would raid dorm rooms and report drinking violations. "I did not hesitate to tell the parents—in no uncertain terms—what their kids were up to," he said.He soon made enemies at the school. "Three or four times a week," Mattear said, Piedmont students were in the office of Ray Cleere, the president of the college, complaining about Jewell and other Piedmont police. After Jewell was admonished for a number of controversial arrests, he resigned.Jewell had an out: his mother was going to have an operation on her foot. He would go home to Atlanta for the Olympics and look for a new job. He called his mother: "Is it all right with you if I stay with you while you have your surgery?" He hoped he might get a job with the Atlanta police or, failing that, work security at the Olympics. "I thought, Working at the Centennial Olympic Park will look really good on my resume."At the age of 33, back in his mother's apartment, he was at first treated like a wayward teenager. Bobi was sharp with him about his slovenly habits, his weight, and his driving. Bobi had carved out a life for herself; she arrived at work by eight A.M. each morning and had many friends. Trim, with short-cropped hair, Bobi Jewell is the kind of woman who labels her clothes and spices and spends much of her spare time baking cakes and babysitting for extra money. She carries on telephone friendships with claim adjusters at other companies. It was somewhat unsettling for her, she told me, to have Richard at home after she had grown used to living with only her dog, Brandi, and her cat, Boots. Bobi was annoyed that he had wrecked a patrol car, and worried about his safety. "Every time he leaves the apartment, I'll say, 'Richard . . . ' And he'll say, 'Yes, ma'am. I know. The person that I am going to see will be there when I get there,'" she said. On one occasion Bobi talked about Richard's return to Atlanta. "What is wrong with trying to revamp your life?" she asked me. Her eyes filled with tears. "Why does everyone in the media think it is so strange?"On Friday, July 26, Bobi Jewell was home waiting for her niece to arrive from Virginia for the Olympic softball competition the following week. In preparation, she had stocked her apartment with food. It was a clear Georgia evening, not as hot as had been expected. As usual, Richard left for the park at 4:45 P.M. and arrived at the AT&T pavilion about 5:30. His stomach was bothering him; he was convinced that he had eaten a bad hamburger the day before. Lin Wood and Wayne Grant had arranged to take their children to Centennial Park that night. The park, in downtown Atlanta, stretches over 21 acres. There were air-conditioned tents, concerts on the stage, and hot-dog and souvenir stands. Downtown Atlanta was usually deserted in the oppressively hot, humid summer, but this year thousands of tourists filled the sidewalks, or sat on benches in the shade of some crape-myrtle trees, or cooled off by a fountain. Tour buses clogged the main arteries, and everyone complained that it took hours to get anywhere; stories were traded about athletes' getting to their competitions late because of the poor planning of the Atlanta Committee for the Olympic Games.As always, Jewell was working the 12-hour night shift near the sound-and-light tower by the stage. He was pleased because one of his favorite groups—Jack Mack and the Heart Attack—was going to perform at 12:45. Jewell had a routine: he would check in and fill the ice chest he kept by a bench at his station. Jewell liked to offer water and Cokes to pregnant women or policemen who stopped to rest.After he arrived at the park, his stomach cramps grew worse and he had a bout of diarrhea. At approximately 10 P.M. he took a break to go to the bathroom. The closest one was by the stage, but the security staff was not allowed to use it. "I really have to go," Jewell says he told the stage manager. "And he said, 'Well, O.K. this time.'"When Jewell came out, he noticed that it was "real calm" and there wasn't much wind blowing. At that time of night, the crowd from Bud World became a little more raucous. Jewell was annoyed when he saw a group of drunks near his bench and beer cans littering the area beside the fence nearby. As he went to report the trash and the group that was carousing, he spotted a large olive-green military-style backpack, known as an Alice pack, under the bench. There had been a similar bag found the week before. Jewell later told an F.B.I. agent that he was annoyed that one of the drunks had tried to get into the lens of a camera crew. Jewell had told them to cut it out. "They were running off at the mouth," Jewell would later tell Larry Landers of the Georgia Bureau of Investigation (G.B.I.)."I was light about the package at first," he told me, "kidding around with Tom Davis from the G.B.I.: 'Well, are you going to open it?' At that point, it was not a concern. I was thinking to myself, Well, I am sure one of these people left it on the ground. When Davis came back and said, 'Nobody said it was theirs,' that is when the little hairs on the back of my head began to stand up. I thought, Uh-oh. This is not good."I never really had time to be frightened. My law-enforcement background paid off here. What went through my head was like a computer screen of this list I had to do. I had to call my supervisor. I have to tell people in the tower that something was going on. I have to be firm with them, stay calm, and be professional."Almost immediately, Jewell and Tom Davis cleared a 25-foot-square area around the backpack; Jewell made two trips into the tower to warn the technicians. "I want y'all out now. This is serious."Two blocks away on Marietta Street, approximately 300 editors, copywriters, and reporters from Cox newspapers around the country had taken over the extra desks in the new eighth-floor newsroom at The Atlanta Journal-Constitution to prepare the special Olympics edition they put out each afternoon. The paper had gone "Olympics-crazy," according to one reporter. The editor, Ron Martin, and the managing editor, John Walter—"WalMart," as they were called—had let it be known that no expense would be spared. Ann Hardie, who normally covers science, had been sent around the world to master the fine points of beach volleyball; Bill Rankin, officially on the federal-court beat, was assigned table tennis. The paper intended to set new standards in its hometown during the games, but in addition there was a hint of redemption in the air.Since Cox newspaper executives had forced the resignation of the distinguished editor Bill Kovach in 1988, the paper had suffered a severe loss of reputation. "We all felt just kind of beaten down," one reporter said. Kovach had been brought to Atlanta from The New York Times to elevate The A.J.C. into being the definitive paper of the New South, but eventually he irritated the local powers. Atlanta was inbred, a city of deals, and he resigned in a blaze of press outrage. Kovach now ran the Nieman journalism-fellowship program at Harvard, and the movie rights to his turbulent years in Atlanta—reported in these pages by Peter J. Boyer—had been sold to Warner Bros.Within the profession, The A.J.C. had become something of a joke. More and more, its emphasis was on what John Walter called "chunklets"—short bits in a soft-news style known as eye-candy. The paper published features on couples massage and how mushrooms grow in the rain. Walter had fired off several terse memos to ensure that there would be no more jumps of news stories to back pages and no more unsourced news stories, except on rare occasions. "I don't see any reason why you can't report hard news in a short form," one editor told me.The A.J. C. style of reporting in declarative sentences had a name, too: the voice of God. It was omniscient, because it allowed no references to unattributed sources. Subjects such as AIDS, which often required confidentiality, could not be covered properly in the paper, in the opinion of several reporters. The A.J.C. picked up news stories with unnamed sources from The New York Times, however, and reporters groused about the hypocrisy of the double standard.On Saturday morning, July 27, Bob Johnson, the night metro editor, left the newsroom at one A.M. The sidewalks were still crowded; Johnson sat on a wall outside waiting for an A.J.C. shuttle bus to pick him up. About 1:25 he heard a strange noise. "It sounded like an aerial bomb at a fireworks show," he said. He recalled thinking, Damn, that is sort of foolish. Then he heard screams and saw people running. Johnson rushed back upstairs to the almost deserted sixth-floor newsroom. Lyda Longa, a night police reporter, was still there. Johnson sent her down to the park and turned on the news, but nothing had moved across the wires. Just after two A.M., Longa called from the park. She told Johnson that one person had been killed and dozens were down—it was absolute chaos. Johnson could hear the sirens and the screams through the telephone; he began to type into his computer. "We were trying to get a bullet into the street edition," Johnson recalled. In the crisis, it took only minutes for reporters to return to the newsroom; several had been at the park when the bomb went off. Rochelle Bozman, an Olympics editor, appeared and took over for Johnson. Soon John Walter was there, as was Bert Roughton, who would assist him in supervising the A.J.C. coverage of the bombing.At the park, Jewell spoke with the first F.B.I. agents to arrive on the scene. The smell and the noise, he remembered, were overwhelming, and sensations blurred together. "It was hard to describe the sound," he said. "It was like what you hear in the movies. It was, like, KABOOM. I had seen an explosion in police training. We had ear protection when it went off. It smelled like a flash-bang grenade. The sky was not filled with black smoke, but grayish-white. All the shrapnel that was inside the package kept flying around, and some of the people got hit from the bench and some with metal."Bobi Jewell had just gone to sleep when the telephone rang. It was Richard. "Mom, they had a bomb go off down here, but I am O.K. regardless of what the TV says." He could hardly speak; he seemed paralyzed. Jewell did not mention to his mother that he had found the backpack and alerted Tom Davis. Bobi was perplexed. "I thought, What does he mean?"All night long she stayed on the foldout sofa watching the news reports. She was frightened by the ambulances, the noise, the bodies in the park.Soon veteran homicide detectives in the Atlanta police arrived at the bomb site. One sergeant was trying to make his way through the crowd when an Olympics official stopped him. "Tell these cops to get the hell out of here," he said, according to a captain in the homicide division. "Well, you get the fuck out of here. Who are you?" the sergeant demanded. Agents from the Atlanta F.B.I. office and the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms were in a shouting match over jurisdiction. "We are handling this!" one said. "No, this is ours!" an F.B.I. agent snapped.In the command center at F.B.I. headquarters in northeastern Atlanta, there was complete pandemonium. The Olympics were a national convention for law enforcement. Some 30,000 security personnel were on hand. Over the next few days, there would be an internal debate: Who was going to be in charge of the bombing investigation? In Atlanta at that time were three veteran investigators with executive experience: Tom Fuentes, who is credited with helping to bring John Gotti to heel; Barry Mawn, who has worked extensively in organized-crime probes; and Robin Montgomery, the head of the critical-incident unit at Quantico, who at Ruby Ridge in 1992 questioned the disastrous "rules of engagement" which led to tragedy.In the early-morning hours, F.B.I. agents picked up several suspects, including one referred to as "the drunk in the bar." According to F.B.I. sources, Louis Freeh himself got on the telephone to Barry Mawn. Freeh, a former F.B.I. agent, was personally monitoring the initial investigation by means of a series of conference calls from the command post at F.B.I. headquarters. He focused on "the drunk in the bar," who had been making threats the night before, and within hours the information was leaked that the F.B.I. had a suspect. From Atlanta, Barry Mawn contacted his superiors in Washington. "This suspect is not the bomber," he reportedly said, according to a former highlevel F.B.I. executive. Freeh allegedly lost his temper and belittled Mawn's professional abilities. He is said to have told Mawn that he "had handled this all wrong." The words one hears characterizing Freeh's telephone calls to the agents on duty in Atlanta are "abusive," "condescending," and "dismissive." A story went around the command center that Freeh was already saying, "We have our man," according to a source in the bureau.Watson Bryant was thinking, I cannot believe that I know anyone who throws pipe bombs into gopher holes.Freeh made a decision: however experienced Montgomery, Fuentes, and Mawn were, this investigation would be run by Division 5 of the F.B.I., the National Security Division, a former counterintelligence unit that has been looking for a purpose since the Cold War ended. Trained in observation, division members rarely made a criminal case—their strength was intimidation and manipulation rather than the deliberate gathering of evidence to be presented in court. The F.B.I. promptly declared the bombing a terrorism case and placed it under the authority of Bob Bryant, head of the division. David Tubbs of Division 5 was sent to Atlanta to be the spokesman and to augment Woody Johnson, the Atlanta special agent in charge (S.A.C.), who had been trained in hostage rescue and who was awkward in press briefings. Tubbs was not as experienced in criminal cases as Mawn or Montgomery, who returned to Newark and Quantico, respectively, "to get out of the line of fire," according to numerous F.B.I. sources. But Bryant and Freeh were reportedly micromanaging the S.A.C.'s and, later, the case agents Don Johnson and Diader Rosario.106107 VIEW ARTICLE PAGESOn the morning of the bombing, Watson Bryant's alarm went off at six A.M. He was going to the Olympic kayak competition on the Ocoee River with Andy Currie, a friend from his Vanderbilt University days. He learned of the bombing on the radio as he was getting ready to go to Currie's house. "Whoever has done this should be skinned alive," he told Currie. He spent the day in the country, and on Sunday he went out to run errands. When he got home, there was a message on his answering machine: "Watson, this is Richard Jewell. You may have heard that I found the bomb and people are calling me a hero. Somebody told me I might get a book contract." It had been years since Bryant had spoken to Jewell, but he did not immediately return the call; he was busy finishing up some contracts so that he could take a few days off to enjoy the Olympics.In addition, Bryant was annoyed with Jewell. After Bryant had befriended him in their days at the Small Business Administration, Jewell had borrowed his new, $250 radar detector and never returned it. He had promised to pay him $100 for it, but he never had. In the meantime, Bryant's life had changed; he had set up an office as a solo practitioner. Bryant despised corporate politics and had no gift for them. His penchant for taking on pro-bono work for friends annoyed his wife, however. Bryant believed that Richard Jewell had attached himself to him years earlier because he lacked a father, but nevertheless Jewell could get on his nerves. By the summer of 1996, Bryant was preoccupied; his marriage had come apart two years earlier, and he was trying to sort out his life.When he finally returned Jewell's phone call, he said, "Well, damn it, where's my $100?" Jewell laughed uneasily and told him about discovering the green backpack that contained the bomb. "Didn't you see me on the news?" Bryant reminded him that he rarely watched TV. "I am proud of you, Richard," he said. "About this book contract, I think it's far-fetched, but don't sign anything unless I see it first."In the Newsweek cover story detailing the bombing, published Monday, July 29, there was no mention of Richard Jewell. It said only that "a security guard" had alerted Tom Davis of the G.B.I. that no one had claimed the backpack under his bench. By the time Newsweek was on the stands, however, Jewell had been interviewed on CNN. The AT&T publicity department had booked him on TV and told him to wear the shirt with the AT&T logo. Jewell reluctantly agreed. "The idea of going on TV made me nervous," he told me. "I was not the hero. There were so many others who saved lives."In Demorest, Ray Cleere, the president of Piedmont College, was home on Saturday, July 27, watching CNN. Cleere had at one time been Mississippi's commissioner of higher education, but he was now posted at the rural Baptist mountain school. He was said to feel that he had suffered a loss of status in the boondocks, where he was out of the academic mainstream. He called Dick Martin, his chief of campus police. Shouldn't they call the F.B.I. and tell them about Richard Jewell? he asked. Cleere had had a strong disagreement with Jewell when one of the students was caught smoking pot. Jewell wanted to arrest him; Cleere said no. Cleere, Brad Mattear recalled, "worried constantly about the image of the college." According to Mattear, "Cleere loved the limelight. He wanted public attention"—the very trait he reportedly ascribed to Richard Jewell.Dick Martin, who was fond of Jewell, suggested a compromise, according to Lin Wood: he would call a friend in the G.B.I. Cleere then called the F.B.I. hot line in Washington himself. Wood says Cleere later complained that no one had seemed to want to listen to what he had to say about Richard Jewell. But his telephone call would trigger a complex set of circumstances in Habersham County, where F.B.I. investigators fanned out over the hills, attempting to uncover evidence that could lead to Jewell's arrest. "The F.B.I. took his word, and what it actually did was get them both in a bunch of trouble," Mattear said. (Cleere has declined to comment.)For Richard Jewell, Tuesday, July 30, would become a haze in which his life was turned upside down. "The hours of the day ran so fast it is hard to remember what all happened," he told me. He started the day early at the Atlanta studio of the Today show. He was tired; the evening before he had had his friend Tim Attaway, a G.B.I. agent, for dinner. He had made lasagna and had drawn Attaway a diagram of the sound-and-light tower. Jewell had talked into the night about the bombing; only later would he learn that Attaway was wearing a wire.Despite the late evening, Jewell was excited at the thought of meeting Katie Couric and being interviewed about finding the Alice pack in the park. His mother asked him to try to get Tom Brokaw's autograph. "He was a man my mom respected a great deal," he said.When he got back to the apartment, he was surprised to see a cluster of reporters in the parking lot. "Do you think you are a suspect?" one asked. Jewell laughed. "I know they'll investigate anyone who was at the park that night," he said. "That includes you-all too." Jewell did not turn on the TV, but he noticed that the group outside the door continued to grow. At four that afternoon, Jewell received a phone call from Anthony Davis, the head of the security company Jewell worked for at AT&T. "Have you seen the news?" Davis asked. "They are saying you are a suspect." Jewell said, "They are talking to everybody." According to Jewell, Davis said, "They are zeroing in on you. To keep the publicity down, don't go to work."Within minutes, Don Johnson and Diader Rosario knocked on Jewell's door. They exuded sincerity, Jewell recalled. "They told me they wanted me to come with them to headquarters to help them make a training film to be used at Quantico," he said. Johnson played to Jewell's pride. Despite the reporters in the parking lot and the call from Anthony Davis, Jewell had no doubt that they were telling the truth. He drove the short distance to F.B.I. headquarters in Buckhead in his own truck, but he noticed that four cars were following him. "The press is on us," Jewell told Johnson when they arrived. "No, those are our guys," Johnson told him. This tactic would continue through the next 88 days and be severely criticized: Why would you have an armada of surveillance vehicles stacked up on a suspected bomber?It was then that Jewell started to wonder why he was at the F.B.I., but he followed Johnson and Rosario inside. Rosario was known for his skills as a negotiator; he had once helped calm a riot of Cuban prisoners in Atlanta. Johnson, however, had a reputation for overreaching. In Albany, New York, in 1987, he had pursued an investigation of then mayor Thomas Whalen. According to Whalen, the local U.S. attorney found no evidence to support Johnson's assertions and issued a letter to Whalen exonerating him completely, but Whalen believed it cost him an appointment as a federal judge.As Jewell sat in a small office, he wondered why the cameraman recording the interview was staring at him so intently. After an hour, Johnson was called out of the room. When he returned, he said to Jewell, "Let's pretend that none of this happened. You are going to come in and start over, and by the way, we want you to fill out this waiver of rights.""At that moment a million things were going through my head," Jewell told me. "You don't give anyone a waiver of rights unless they are being investigated. I said, 'I need to contact my attorney,' and then all of a sudden it was an instant change. 'What do you need to contact your attorney for? You didn't do anything. We thought you were a hero. Is there something you want to tell us about?'" Jewell grew increasingly apprehensive and later recalled thinking, These guys think I did this.When the agents took a break, Jewell asked to use the phone. "I called Watson four times. I called his brother. I told his parents that I had to get hold of Watson—it was urgent. I was, like, 'I have to speak to him right now.' What was going on was that Washington was on the phone with Atlanta. The people in Washington were giving them questions." Jewell said he knew this because the videotapes in the cameras were two hours long and "Johnson and Rosario would leave every 30 minutes, like they had to speak on the phone." The O.RR. report, however, would assert that no one at headquarters knew about the videotaping or the training-film ruse. Lying to get a statement out of a suspect is, in fact, not illegal, but clearly Johnson and Rosario were not making decisions on their own. Even the procedure of having a fleet of cars follow a suspect was an intimidation tactic used by the F.B.I. Later, according to Jewell, Johnson and Rosario would both tell him privately that they believed he was innocent, but that the investigation was being run by the "highest levels in Washington."Within the bureau, the belief is that during one of the telephone calls Freeh instructed Johnson and Rosario to read Jewell his Miranda rights. Freeh is said to have learned of Johnson's history from a member of his security detail, who had worked in Atlanta. He told Freeh that "Johnson had a reputation for being obnoxious and a problem." In addition, a week after Jewell's interview, Freeh reportedly received a call from Janet Reno, who had learned about the ruse from Kent Alexander, the local U.S. attorney, and Deputy Attorney General Jamie Gorelick. Freeh wondered aloud how it was that, of all the agents in Atlanta, Johnson had been selected to work on the Jewell case. Like Jewell, Johnson had wound up in Atlanta because of his overzealous behavior—according to an F.B.I. source, the Whalen episode had resulted in a "loss-of-effectiveness transfer," an F.B.I. euphemism. (Johnson declined to respond.)On that same Tuesday, Watson Bryant and Nadya Light closed the office early and went to Centennial Park. Light, 35, a pretty Russian immigrant, had never met Radar, Bryant's old friend, and wanted to buy him a celebratory meal. Killing time until Jewell came on duty, they went into the House of Blues and then bought some hot sauce. Walking toward his car, Bryant saw newsboys hawking the afternoon edition of The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. "It was like out of a cartoon. They were all yelling!" he recalled. "I caught the headline out of the corner of my eye." The headline read: FBI SUSPECTS 'HERO' GUARD MAY HAVE PLANTED BOMB.Bryant borrowed 50 cents from Light to buy the paper and began to read: '"Richard Jewell, 33 . . . fits the profile of the lone bomber.' I could not believe it."At that moment, Bryant's brother, Bruce, who was on his way to the diving competition, got a call from Jewell. "Where is Watson?" As Bruce Bryant walked past a Speedo billboard with a TV screen, he saw Richard Jewell's face filling the screen. "Oh, my God," he said to his wife. At the same moment, Watson was in his car a block away on Northside Drive when he too noticed the Speedo screen. He could not get back to his house—the streets were blocked off for the cycling competition. From his car he called F.B.I. headquarters and demanded to speak to Jewell. "He is not here," the operator said. From his home phone, he picked up his messages and heard Jewell's low, urgent tones. "He didn't leave a number," Bryant told Light. "Call Star 69," she said. The number came back: 679-9000, the number for F.B.I. headquarters, which he had just dialed. Within minutes, Bryant had Jewell on the phone. Jewell told him he was making a training film. "You idiot! You are a suspect. Get your ass out of there now!" Bryant told him.Before The Atlanta Journal-Constitution broke the story of Richard Jewell, there had been a debate in the newsroom over whether or not to name him. One block away, CNN's Art Harris and Henry Schuster had alerted the network's president that Jewell was targeted, but they held the story, because they understood its potential magnitude. At The A.J.C., Kathy Scruggs, a police reporter, who had allegedly gotten a tip from a close friend in the F.B.I., got a confirmation from someone in the Atlanta police. According to the managing editor, John Walter, the first edition of the paper that Tuesday had a brief profile of Jewell. It was dropped in later editions as Walter questioned whether the paper had enough facts to support the scoop. Because of the voice-of-God style, the paper ended up making a flat-out statement: "Richard Jewell . . . fits the profile of the lone bomber."When I asked John Walter about the lone-bomber sentence, he said, "I ultimately edited it. . . . One of the tests we put to the material is, is it a verifiable fact?" One editor added, "The whole story is voice-of-God. . . . Because we see this event taking place, the need to attribute it to sources—F.B.I. or law enforcement—is less than if there is no public acknowledgment." John Walter indicated that he had not seen a lone-bomber profile. I asked him, "Whose profile of a lone bomber does Richard Jewell fit? Where is the 'says who' in this sentence?" Walter said that he felt comfortable with the assertion.The page-one story had a double byline: Kathy Scruggs and Ron Martz. Walter had told these two early on that they would be the reporters assigned to any Olympic catastrophe. Martz, who had covered the Gulf War, had been assigned the security beat for the Olympics; Scruggs routinely covered local crime. Scruggs had good contacts in the Atlanta police, and she was tough. She was characterized as "a police groupie" by one former staff member. "Kathy has a hard edge that some people find offensive," one of her editors told me, but he praised her skills. Police reporters are often "dictation pads" for local law enforcement; recently the American Journalism Review sharply criticized The A.J. C. for the scanty confirmation and lack of skepticism in its coverage of Jewell.The newsroom atmosphere resembled that at F.B.I. headquarters; there was a frenzy to be first. Kent Walker, a newsroom intern, published a story in the same edition, with a glaring mistake in the headline: BOMB SUSPECT HAD SOUGHT LIMELIGHT, PRESS INTERVIEWS. Since Ray Cleere's tip to the F.B.I., the "hero bomber" theory had been circulating among Atlanta law enforcement officers. Maria Elena Fernandez, a reporter, was sent to Habersham County on July 29. By coincidence, William Rathburn, the head of security for the Olympics, had been at the Los Angeles Olympics in 1984 when a fake bomb was found on a bus—left by a policeman who sought attention.On the surface, the story had an irresistible newsroom logic: Jewell was clearly looking for recognition. Bert Roughton, the city editor, had answered the telephone when a representative from AT&T called to ask if the paper would like a Jewell interview. According to Walter, Roughton himself typed a sentence in the Scruggs-and-Martz piece: "He [Jewell] also has approached newspapers, including The Atlanta JournalConstitution, seeking publicity for his actions." But he hadn't. Walter explained, "There was nothing wrong with that sentence. That's journalistically proper. It is not common practice, to my knowledge, to ask someone you are interviewing . . . 'Are you here of your own free will?'" Jewell had not contacted the paper—a fact which would have been easy enough to check. Walter became snappish when I described the sentence as "a mistake." "It was not a mistake," he said angrily. Scruggs and Martz quoted Piedmont College president Ray Cleere as backup. According to Cleere, Jewell had been "a little erratic" and "almost too excitable."There was no doubt raised by The A.J.C. about the value of Cleere's information or the fragility of the F.B.I.'s potential case. On Tuesday morning, July 30, Christina Headrick, a young intern on the paper, was sent to Buford Highway to stake out Richard Jewell's apartment. She phoned in that there were men doing surveillance. By deadline, John Walter had made a decision: he would tear up the afternoon Olympics edition and lead with Jewell.Several states away, Colonel Robert Ressler was watching CNN when the A.J.C. extra edition was shown. Ressler, who was retired from the behavioral-science unit of the F.B.I., had, along with John Douglas, developed the concept of criminal-personality profiling. He was the co-author of the Crime Classification Manual, which is used by the F.B.I. He had interviewed Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, and John Wayne Gacy, and as he watched the TV report, he was mystified. "They were talking about an F.B.I. profile of a hero bomber, and I thought, What F.B.I. profile? It rather surprised me." According to Ressler, the definition of "hero homicide"—a person looking for recognition without an intent to kill— perhaps emerged as "hero bomber." "There is no such classification as the hero bomber," he told me recently. "This was a myth." Later he said, "It occurred to me that there was no database of any bomber who lived with his mother, was a security guard and unmarried. How many hero bombers had we ever encountered? Only one that I know of, in Los Angeles, and his bomb did not go off." Ressler knew that something was off; profiles are developed from a complex set of evidence and facts derived only in part from a crime scene. The bomb had been deadly, which was not consistent with the "hero complex." Furthermore, he wondered, where did they get the information to put the profile together that fast? He asked himself, What came first here, the chicken or the egg? Was the so-called profile actually developed from the circumstances, or was it invented for Richard Jewell?When Jewell returned home from F.B.I. headquarters just before eight P.M., NBC was showing special Olympic coverage. He sat on the sofa and watched Tom Brokaw say, "They probably have enough to arrest him right now, probably enough to prosecute him, but you always want to have enough to convict him as well. There are still holes in this case."Jewell knew that Brokaw was his mother's favorite newsman; he looked at her and noticed "the color and the blood flow out of her face when she heard that." Bobi turned to him and asked, "What is he talking about?" Jewell later recalled, "Brokaw was talking about her son as a murderer. . . . She started crying, and what am I going to say to her? 'Mom, Watson is going to fix this'? What do you say? She doesn't hear anything anyway—she was in hysterics." At that point, Jewell said, he broke down as well.The day Watson Bryant inadvertently became the lead lawyer for Richard Jewell, he was an attorney whom almost no one in the Atlanta legal establishment had ever heard of. "Who the hell is Watson Bryant?" a caption in the daily legal sheet, the Fulton County Daily Report, would read after he had appeared on the Today show. Bryant understood Jewell's vulnerability and decided on a strategy: he would treat him as a member of his own family. In Atlanta, the Bryants were a clan: Watson's father, Goble Bryant, had been a West Point tackle, on the 1949 college all-star team; his grandfather had invented a process for putting handles on paper bags. Watson had partied through Vanderbilt University and had barely gotten accepted to law school at the University of South Carolina. He had a close relationship with his brother, Bruce, and their sister, Barbara Ann, and if he lacked staff at his office, he knew he could count on his family to pick up the slack. Bruce enlisted Jewell to help coach his junior football team; Watson had a picnic for Richard and Bobi at his parents' house at the Atlanta Country Club.When Bryant arrived at the Jewells' apartment that night, he pushed his way through the crowd standing outside in the spongy Atlanta humidity. Microphones were shoved in his face. "What is happening, Watson?" Bobi asked him. Bryant asked Jewell to speak to him alone. "I want to know if you can tell me, without any hesitation at all, if you had anything to do with the bombing," he said. "I didn't," Jewell told him. "I said, 'I am going to ask you again.' He would not look me in the eye. I said, 'Don't give me this "sir" shit.' I said, 'Richard, these people want to kill you. I cannot help you unless you tell me the absolute, unequivocal truth.' I was in his face. He said he did not have anything to do with it." Jewell was bewildered and numb, said Bryant, who left at 10:30 P.M. At midnight, Jewell called him to say, "They are massing outside the apartment, Watson."The next morning, Bryant went from talk show to talk show, starting with NBC. With the notable exception of The New York Times, virtually every newspaper in the country had picked up the A.J.C. story and run it as front-page news. There were 10,000 reporters in Atlanta; the Los Angeles Times would later call the squad bearing down on the Jewells "a massive strike force . . . Tora! Tora! Tora!" Bryant was in a daze, but he held his own. "Is it true that Jewell was at some time ordered to seek psychological counseling?" Bryant Gumbel asked him. "I know a lot of people that ought to have psychological counseling," Watson Bryant replied.By 10 A.M. he was back at the Jewells' apartment, studying a search warrant that had been delivered that day. The F.B.I., Jewell recalled, said that he could not be inside the apartment during the search. Bryant called F.B.I. headquarters: "What the hell is this? Why can't he be there?" Within an hour, at least 40 members of the F.B.I. had arrived, with dogs. "There was a physical-evidence team. There was a scientific team. There was a team for the bomb-squad people, and then the A.T.F. . . . They all had different-color shirts. Light blue for bombs, dark blue for evidence protection, red and yellow." Bryant could not believe what he was seeing. "This is like damn Six Flags over Georgia," he told them."I kept saying to Watson, 'I didn't do this.' And he said, 'Hey, kid, I believe you—we are doing what we can.'" Jewell was a gun collector. Bryant was sharp with him: "You get all those guns out of your closets and put them on your bed. We don't want any trouble."For seven hours, Jewell sat outside on the staircase in what has become one of the most famous images of last summer. Bryant had to take his daughter, Meredith, to the Olympic equestrian competition, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her. As he left, he said, "Don't do anything stupid. Just shut up and let them do what they have to do." Hours passed as Jewell sat in the heat. "Finally I decided I would ask them if I could go in and use the rest room. They said, 'We got the order a couple of hours ago you could come in; you just can't get in our way.'" Jewell was told he had to wear rubber socks and gloves in order not to contaminate the site. The Jewell apartment is small—two bedrooms with a bathroom in between, a living room, an alcove dining room that has been turned into a den. As Jewell sat on the sofa, he thought he heard a crash in his bedroom. "I thought my CD player was on the floor, and I said, 'What are you-all tearing up?' and they said, 'You can't go in there right now; we are searching.' I said, 'I want to know what you-all just broke.'" One search warrant listed some 200 items the F.B.I. could confiscate, including "magazines, books . . . and photographs which would include descriptive information such as telephone numbers, addresses, affiliations and contact points of individuals involved in a conspiracy to manufacture, transport and . . . detonate . . . the explosive device used in the bombing at the Olympic Centennial Park on July 27, 1996.""They had all my pictures, all the stuff that was in the drawers. My personal things. How would you like to know that 12 different guys had been in your underwear, laid it out on the floor, probably walked on it and then folded it back up like nothing ever happened and put it in your drawer? So then Mom got to go and watch it on TV: 'Live from the Jewell house, the search continues. . . . We are expecting an arrest any minute.'"When Bobi Jewell returned home, the apartment appeared neat, until she walked into her kitchen. She looked down at her counters, where all her condiments, dog biscuits, spices, and crackers had been taken out of their Tupperware containers and placed in Ziploc bags. She began to cry. And then she went into the bedroom and "immediately started washing clothes," Jewell said.Driving home from the equestrian events, Bryant heard the live coverage of the search on the radio. "Why are you helping this guy if he's guilty?" Meredith asked.The next morning, Bryant received a copy of the F.B.I. inventory of articles confiscated in the apartment. On the list he was stunned to see "one hollowed-out hand grenade, ball-shaped" and "one hollowed-out hand grenade, pinecone-shaped." "What the hell is this?" he asked Jewell. "They were paperweights," Jewell said. "I bought them at a military store." "Oh, shit," Bryant said.For the first few days, the Jewells lived on ham omelettes; a neighbor had brought them half a ham from the Honey Baked Ham Company on Buford Highway. Bobi Jewell had a vacation scheduled, so she remained at home, lying on the bed and "listening to the ball game if it was on." For two weeks, she cleaned out her bureau drawers. Richard would spend the day watching CNN or movies such as Backdraft and Midnight Run. "I would look out the window and see about 150 to 200 press people. Then it would drop to five or six on the hill. They had one person sitting up there at all times with their binoculars." Richard believed they were being monitored. "They heard everything that was going on. They were over there with high-intensity zoom lenses. They had people over there who could read lips. They had a sound dish. They could hear everything that we said. They had a person writing down everything we said. I saw them."When Bobi walked out the door, Jewell said, they would holler obscenities and yell, 'You should both die'Once, Bobi's cat jumped on the window ledge under the curtain and the photographers began frenetically shooting pictures, believing that one of the Jewells was in the window. Sound trucks and boom microphones prevented the neighbors from getting near the apartment. Three F.B.I. agents were usually sitting near the tiny swimming pool; each time Jewell or his mother left the house, a cavalcade of unmarked cars would follow. Richard soon began to write a speech describing the horror he felt at being falsely accused. He ate grilled-cheese sandwiches, huge pans of lasagna, and can after can of Campbell's tomato soup."If my mom and I had something we wanted to talk about that we didn't want anyone to hear, we wrote it on pieces of paper. When she left to go to work the next day, she would take it with her, tear it up, and put it in the trash! That is how I kept my mother informed about what was going on with the case." The notes were specific: "What the Justice Department was saying, what my attorneys were hearing through the grapevine that I could tell my mom that was not privileged. It was mainly stuff like 'Keep the faith' and 'Can I borrow $10 for gas in the truck?' "Jewell described how, when his mother would walk out the door, "they would holler obscenities at her. They would yell, 'Did he do it? Did he blow those people up?' They would yell, 'You should both die.'" According to Jewell, "The cameramen were just trying to get us aggravated so they could get it on camera. You don't know how hard it is when they are saying stuff about my mother and me. . . . All she was trying to do was walk her dog. And she cannot do that without hearing that yelling. When someone did that to my mother, I would want to be up on the hill calling the police, because I would want them arrested. I was going to say, 'Mom, tell me which one said that!' And I was going to walk up to that person and introduce myself and say, 'Hi, my name is Richard Jewell. What is yours? Who do you work for? Who is your supervisor?' And I was going to go home and call 911 to get a warrant."By disposition, Jewell is a night person, but he would get up early when his mother went back to work and make her breakfast. By 11 A.M. he would be playing Mortal Kombat II and listening to 96 Rock on the radio, where one of his friends is a disc jockey. Four days into his period of captivity, he called the DeKalb County police. He recalled telling a Mr. Brown, "'This is Richard Jewell. I am sure you are aware of my situation over on Buford Highway.' He said, 'Yes, Richard, I know.' I said, 'I just want to tell you my situation. Number one: I did not do this. Number two: I am here and I am not leaving the apartment for any reason at all.' I said that all the press was doing right now was aggravating my mother and disturbing my neighbors, and I would really appreciate it if the neighbors could return to a normal life."On Saturday, August 3, as Bryant stared at the F.B.I. agent plucking Jewell's hair, he had already made a decision. "It was, like, screw it. I had had it." The next day was the closing ceremony of the Olympics; Bryant imagined that that would be the day the government might choose to arrest Jewell. "Who is the best criminal lawyer in Georgia?" he asked a state lawyers' association. Within a day, he had brought in Jack Martin, an expert on the federal death penalty and a Harvard law school graduate with close ties to the local U.S. attorney, Kent Alexander. "Let me tell you something about myself," Jewell told him in their first meeting. "I hate criminal lawyers." "Well, Richard," Martin said, "I don't much like cops, but sometimes I need one, and this is a time you sure need a criminal lawyer."That weekend, watching the Olympic basketball finals, Bryant had an idea: he wanted to be prepared with his own polygraph test of Jewell if the F.B.I. arrested him. From the game, Bryant called a close friend who was a former federal prosecutor. "Try Richard Rackleff," he said. "We worked together on the Walter Moody bombing case." Rackleff had recently set up a private practice, and he agreed to test Jewell the next day. On Sunday morning, Bryant was up early, unable to sleep. He drove around town, making calls from his cell phone. He dialed 679-9000—the F.B.I. "This is Watson Bryant. I am going to pick up Richard Jewell. I just want you to know that. I don't have a white Bronco. I don't have a wig, and I don't have cash in my car. We are just going to my office."Watson had coordinated an elaborate plan with his brother to dodge reporters; he would use a decoy and snake through a parking garage. Rackleff had been instructed to park blocks from Bryant's office, because his car could be identified easily, since he was well known in Atlanta law enforcement.When Rackleff sat down with Richard Jewell in the conference room, he later told me, he sensed almost immediately that Jewell was innocent. Rackleff had tested many bombers before, including Walter Moody, who was convicted of killing a federal judge. "They are strange ducks—they leave their attorneys cold," Rackleff said. Although no one knew Rackleff was in the building, more than 100 reporters gathered outside to get a look at Jewell. Inside, Jack Martin, Bryant, Nadya Light, and Jewell spent 12 hours in Bryant's office. Rackleff asked Jewell a series of questions, but the test was inconclusive. "Richard is tormented. He is exploding on the inside," Rackleff said. While he was testing him, CNN's Art Harris was visible through the window of Bryant's office, but he could not see inside. Bryant was thoroughly deflated, close to despair. "You have got to try to buck Richard up," Rackleff told him. "Who is going to buck me up?" Bryant asked.'We are not in missile range of arresting Richard Jewell, but we want him to take our own polygraph," Kent Alexander told Bryant and Jack Martin in their first meeting on the case. In the meantime, Rackleff had tested Jewell again, and he had passed with "no deception," the highest rating. By this time, it was clear that there was no damning evidence against Jewell discovered at the apartment or in his old house in Habersham County.Alexander was only 38, but he had been groomed for politics in a fancy local family. His father was a senior partner in a good Atlanta law firm, and he had worked as an intern for Senator Sam Nunn. Bryant worried about Alexander's lack of experience, but Alexander told colleagues that he was disturbed by the lack of substantial evidence against Jewell. He was trying to operate with decency, but he was cautious and had to check every detail with Washington.Bryant, however, didn't trust Alexander; he had had a bad experience with Alexander's predecessor. In 1990, Bryant had almost been put out of business in a tussle with the then U.S. attorney. The local Small Business Administration accused a bank Bryant represented of improper use of funds; the bank blamed Bryant, who was brought before a grand jury and over the next two years almost lost his practice. He spent $50,000 defending himself, and Nadya Light had to take another job, but eventually the case was settled with Bryant's agreeing not to do business with the S.B.A. for 18 months. Bryant had always felt that he had been manhandled by the office. "I learned everything I needed to know about dealing with this office in 1990," Bryant recalled telling Alexander. "No polygraph for Richard."At the meeting, Alexander told Bryant and Martin, "This is all off-the-record. This is a request that is strictly confidential." Weeks later, Louis Freeh came to town to address a breakfast of former F.B.I. agents. Almost immediately, the polygraph request was reported on CNN. "Kent, I thought we had an agreement," Bryant told him. "I cannot control Washington," Alexander said.When two of the bomb-blast victims sued Richard Jewell, Bryant brought in Wood and Grant to handle the civil litigation. Martin opposed the move. He believed in the cone of silence: "Circle the wagons and don't speak." He said that Wood and Grant had a different perspective: Attack, attack, and if you give any quarter, it is a sign of weakness. Martin had been reassured in private by Kent Alexander that Jewell was not in any immediate danger of being arrested, but the team disagreed about press tactics. Martin worked through the Atlanta-establishment back channels; Lin Wood was a rhetoric man. He favored "one big newsbreak a week." "You know who wrote the book Masters of Deceit? J. Edgar Hoover! And that was about the Communist Party in America. So now they have gone from masters of investigation to masters of deceit!" he would routinely tell reporters who called.Three days after Wood and Grant surfaced as the two new civil lawyers, a Ford van with a tinted bubble-shaped window appeared on the top level of the Macy's parking garage which faced the conference-room windows of their offices. According to Wood, the van did not move for 10 days. "We used to sit there and wave at it." Then the lawyers placed a camera in the window, and the next day the vehicle was gone. "For sure that van had laser sound-detecting equipment," Wood said.Jewell was annoyed that press descriptions of him always emphasized his "overzealousness"; he considers himself a man of details. Often, when he's watching movies at home, he freeze-frames in order to study props in scenes. The second weekend he was considered a suspect, he told me, "I walked in and I noticed white powder all over the telephone table in the conference room." It was a Saturday morning, and Jewell had been with his lawyers until late the night before. He told me he was convinced that the F.B.I. "had lifted a ceiling tile," and that the white powder was "dust that came down." Bryant and Jewell made light of it and did not sweep their phones, believing that any tap the F.B.I. would use would be of a laser or satellite variety and impossible to trace. "In the beginning of every conversation, Watson would curse for about a minute and tell them what lowlives they were. And then he would say, 'By the way, this is Richard's lawyer. Y'all can cut your tape players off,"' Jewell said. "I would call them dirty scumbags," said Bryant. But the local U.S. attorney, Kent Alexander, insisted that their phones were not tapped. "There are no wiretap warrants," he said.The F.B.I. did turn up one bit of potentially troublesome evidence in the Jewells' apartment—fragments of a fence that had been blown up in the explosion. After a telephone conversation with Watson Bryant, Kathy Scruggs quoted him saying, "Yes, he did have a sample of the blown-up bomb." Bryant accused her of egregiously misquoting him. He remembered saying to her, "Yes, Richard had souvenirs of the bombing." Scruggs had not taped their conversation. "She cut the 'ing' off of 'bomb,'" Bryant later told me, but Scruggs strongly denies this. The day the story broke, Bryant criticized Scruggs on local radio. That afternoon she appeared at his office to attempt to clear up the misunderstanding. "I don't like your reporting," Bryant recalled telling her. "I'm human, too," she said. The next day, Ron Martz inserted a quote from Bryant in an unrelated news story: "Oh, man, it's not even a scrap of the bomb—it's a piece of damned fence, for God's sake." But the quote would have little impact. Scruggs's version had been picked up; gathering force, it was eventually related by Bill Press on Crossfire on the evening of October 28: "The guy was seen with a homemade bomb at his home a few days before." (The next day CNN would be forced to apologize for the mistake.)By this time Bryant had grown enraged by the media coverage. The New York Post had called Jewell "a Village Rambo" and "a fat, failed former sheriff's deputy." Jay Leno had said that Jewell "had a scary resemblance to the guy who whacked Nancy Kerrigan," and asked, "What is it about the Olympic Games that brings out big fat stupid guys?" The A.J. C. s star columnist, Dave Kindred, had compared Jewell to serial murderer Wayne Williams: "Like this one, that suspect was drawn to the blue lights and sirens of police work. Like this one, he became famous in the aftermath of murder."Television journalism was also a revelation to Bryant; he felt he had "landed on Mars," and spent hours channel-surfing. On CNN, one criminologist said "it was possible" that Jewell had a hero complex. Bryant told his brother, Bruce, "I know I am going to sue someone. I just don't know who." Bruce Bryant searched for Jewell's name on the Internet three weeks into his ordeal and found 10,000 stories. The tone many of the journalists took was accusatory and pre-determined, with a few rare exceptions, such as that of CBS correspondent Jim Stewart. "Don't jump to any conclusion yet," he said sharply in a broadcast at the height of the frenzy.In his first week as Jewell's lawyer, Bryant went to the CNN studio to be interviewed by Larry King. After the broadcast, he was asked to stop in at the office of CNN president Tom Johnson. "They wanted to know what I thought of their reporting so far." Art Harris was in the room. "I turned around and I said to Art Harris, 'Who the hell are you and the rest of the media to make fun of how Richard Jewell and his mother live? Who are you to make fun of working people who live in a $470-a-month apartment? Is there something wrong with that? Who are you to say that he is a weirdo because he lives with his mother?' "According to Jack Martin, the F.B.I. spent weeks on one erroneous early theory—that Richard Jewell was an enraged homosexual cop-hater who had been aided in the bombing by his lover. Jewell had purportedly planted the bomb; the lover then made the 911 phone call warning that it would go off in Centennial Park. The rationale behind this idea was that Jewell was "mad at the cops and wanted to kill other cops," Martin told me.The rumor began at Piedmont College, perhaps invented by several of the students Jewell had turned in for smoking pot, but it had a chilling consequence. In mid-August, three agents appeared at the Curtis Mathes video store in Cornelia, where Chris Simmons, a senior at Piedmont, worked part-time. Simmons, a friend of Jewell's, who was engaged to be married, was a B student, but he displayed the same porcine blankness as Jewell and spoke in a slow drawl. He had a deep distrust of the government and carried a card in his pocket that read: CHRISTOPHER DWAYNE SIMMONS-CAMPAIGN SUPPORT FOR CONSERVATIVE CANDIDATES.The agents questioned Simmons in the store for one and a half hours. "They asked me if I was a homosexual. They asked me if I had accessed the Internet. . . . They later wanted to wire me. They said, 'If he is really a hero, we will find out, and if not, he has killed someone and injured a lot of people.' " Simmons was short with the agents and denied everything. They accused him of lying and said they could take him to Atlanta. The agents told someone Simmons had once worked with that Simmons might be involved in the bombing. "They kept wording questions differently. They kept saying: Do you think Richard Jewell could have done this if he believed that he could get people out in time and nobody would get hurt?" Simmons later called one of the F.B.I. agents and said, "I hear you don't believe my story." He recalled their conversation: " 'I think you are sugarcoating your answers,' he said. I said, 'Next time I talk with you, it will be with a lawyer.' And he asked me if I was threatening him. Then he hung up on me." Ultimately, Simmons volunteered to take a polygraph, which he says he passed. "I was a nervous wreck," he said. "I had only seen this on TV."What was not known outside a small circle of investigators was how deadly the Centennial Park bomb really was. It was well constructed, with a piece of metal shaped like a V, and inside, it had canisters filled with nails and screws. Jack Martin, who had spent time in Vietnam, compared its construction to that of a claymore mine, a sophisticated and lethal device. The bomb weighed more than 40 pounds. It was "a shaped charge," F.B.I. deputy director Weldon Kennedy would announce in December. It could blast out fragments from three separate canisters, but only one of the canisters exploded on July 27. Someone had moved the Alice pack slightly before the bomb detonated, causing most of the shrapnel to shoot into the sky. The composition of the bomb did not suggest the work of an amateur, Kathy Scruggs would ironically later report, after interviewing an A.T.F. chemist.As the weeks went by, Richard Jewell withdrew into a state of psychological limbo; he began to try to analyze what the agents might think of his behavior within the small apartment. "I would be watching a spy show on TV or something like a John Wayne movie. Someone would be talking about blowing something up, and I would think to myself, My God, that is going to sound really bad if they think I am listening to that." He worried that "they would think I was some kind of a nut," and often, when he could not sleep, he would find himself consciously switching to exercise videos and soap operas.Over Labor Day weekend, he drove up to Habersham County for a picnic with his ex-girlfriend's family, the Chastains. As usual, three F.B.I. cars followed him, but he had gotten adept at picking out the unmarked vehicles. As Jewell drove into town, he noticed that white ribbons hung from hundreds of trees; the Chastains had organized a campaign in his behalf. On the way home, Jewell drove with his friend Dave Dutchess. For the first time, he did not see an F.B.I. car following him, but he noticed an airplane flying low overhead. He drove another 20 miles, and the plane was still on him. "I said, 'Dave, do you think the F.B.I. would be following us in an airplane? It wouldn't be that hard to do, if they put some kind of beeper on the car.'" The plane followed them through Gainesville all the way to Atlanta—an hour's drive. "Just to make sure, we got off on an exit ramp and went about five miles back north. And I got out and took a picture. They followed us all the way back to the apartment! And they circled the apartment for about 15 minutes, until the F.B.I. car showed back up. I got very emotional. My cheeks got beet red. And Mom came home and said, 'What is going on? What is the matter?' It just destroyed the whole day."On September 2, Dave Dutchess and his fiancee, Beatty, were driving to their house in Tennessee. It was raining hard, and they noticed they were being followed by several F.B.I. cars. The storm grew worse, and they stopped at a hotel for the night. The next day, while getting coffee at a McDonald's, they were surrounded by F.B.I. agents. "We just want to talk to you. We are trying to be discreet." One agent, Dutchess recalled, spoke into his radio: "We have the suspect in hand." As they walked back toward their car, Dutchess said to Beatty, "They think I am his accomplice. I heard on the news they were looking for his accomplice!"After the interview, which lasted several hours, Dutchess spoke to Watson Bryant. "What did they ask you that concerns you?" Bryant asked him. "Well, I decided that I had to tell them the truth. Me and one of my friends used to set off pipe bombs for fun," Dutchess told him. "What?" Bryant exclaimed, incredulous. "Yeah, I told them we liked to throw pipe bombs down gopher holes when we lived out in West Virginia.""Did Richard know this friend?" Bryant asked apprehensively. "Hell, no. He never met him," Dutchess said, but Bryant knew that this could prolong the F.B.I.'s investigation perhaps by months. "I hung up and I was thinking, I cannot believe that I even know anyone who throws pipe bombs into gopher holes."As part of their strategy, Wood and Grant decided to mount a strong counterattack against the government. Wayne Grant had come up with the idea: Bobi Jewell should hold a press conference during the Democratic convention and make a direct plea to Bill Clinton. The day before she was to appear, Grant rehearsed her. It was difficult to work with Bobi; she was exhausted and could not stop crying. Confined under siege for almost a month, she could not see an end to it, since every day brought a new humiliation. The resident manager had threatened to take away their lease, and the manager's son was out selling pictures he took of them. A close friend from church was dying, Bobi said, and Richard could not go to see him, because of the swarm of F.B.I. agents and reporters who followed him everywhere. All of it came out in a rush in the conference room with Wayne Grant: Bobi had even had to give Bryant and Nadya Light the Olympic-basketball tickets she had won as colleague of the year, and every night she and her son were stuck together, staring at each other across the kitchen table. They were often irritable, and Richard sometimes lost his temper. "Mother, just shut up," he would tell her when she nagged him about the case. Then, Bobi later recalled, she would go into her bedroom and lie on the four-poster bed hoping that the photographers who rented an apartment across the way for $1,000 a day had no way of knowing what was going on.Grant kept careful notes on the session. Bobi was terrified about appearing in front of cameras. She sobbed and told him, "If I go on TV Monday, I'll be embarrassed. It will be, like, whenever I go anywhere, people will be looking at me: 'Did he do it or didn't he do it?' ""If you talked to the person who is in charge of the investigation, what would you say?" Grant asked her calmly. Bobi's voice was halting, but she was firm: "He is innocent. Clear his name and let us get back to a life that is normal."A few weeks later, Wayne Grant went to a party for a Bar Mitzvah, and a guest cornered him. She asked him if he had told Bobi Jewell to cry at the end of her press conference, and then added coldly, "Nice touch."The lawyers' strategy worked: after Bobi's press conference, the Jewells were deluged with interview requests. Bryant often received 100 phone calls a day. Bobi soon developed a system: letters from Oprah Winfrey, Sally Jessy Raphael, and TV producers were stacked on the console in the living room; flowers and baskets of Godiva chocolates and cheese and crackers from the networks were sent to the offices of Wood & Grant and then on to a children's hospital.At the U.S. Attorney's Office, it had become increasingly clear to Kent Alexander that something had to be done about Richard Jewell. Janet Reno had seen Bobi Jewell on TV and was moved by her sincerity. Privately, Reno and Deputy Attorney General Jamie Gorelick were said to be concerned about the heavy-handed tactics of the F.B.I. "The case had become a total embarrassment," a Justice Department official told me, but Alexander was in a complicated situation. He was working closely with the F.B.I., and there was no sign that the bureau was ready to let go, despite growing consternation among the local agents that the Washington command center had mishandled the case. And there was another problem: Alexander did not trust Lin Wood.By late September, there was a tremendous strain within the team Bryant had hastily assembled. The other lawyers accused Jack Martin of cutting private deals with his friend Kent Alexander, pulling focus, and not being tough enough. For his part, Alexander, according to Martin, admired Bryant even though he believed he was a loose cannon, but he was fed up with Lin Wood."Alexander would say something fairly candid to me, and I would report it to the attorneys, and the next day he would see it on TV," said Jack Martin. "Alexander had checked out Lin, and he knew that he was a take-no-prisoners guy." The lawyers often argued among themselves. Wood insisted on a full-blowout press-attack strategy. Bryant had mastered his sound bite: "The F.B.I. is a 500-pound gorilla who will kick the shit out of anyone." Martin wanted the lawyers to ease up on the hyperbole: "I would say, 'We do not need to do this.' And Lin would say, 'Let's go public with this.' He was manic about it." In one argument, Wood told him, "Goddamn it, Martin, you're like my ex-wives. There isn't anything you can say I won't object to."There was an atmosphere of extreme apprehension between Bryant and Jewell as they drove to F.B.I. headquarters on the afternoon of October 6. They were on their way to what would seemingly be a session with conclusional overtones, but Jewell was worried: What if this meeting was a trick? It was difficult to believe that the bureau was really ending its two-month-long investigation into his life. For weeks, Jack Martin and Bryant had been going back and forth with Kent Alexander. Finally, Jewell had agreed to an unusual suggestion: if he submitted to a lengthy voluntary interview with the bureau, and if Division 5 was satisfied, then perhaps the Justice Department could issue a letter publicly stating that he was no longer a suspect. Jewell tried to imagine the questions he would be asked. "I wanted to look at everything from their angle," he told me, "trying to assess it and reassess it in my head."On the day of Jewell's exoneration, Jay Leno apologized for having called him a Unadoofus.Kent Alexander had set a firm ground rule: Only one lawyer representing Jewell could be in the room. It had been agreed that Jack Martin, the criminal specialist, would be the man, which enraged Lin Wood. "You could really see how these guys did not like each other," Jewell said."I am not comfortable with the one-lawyer agreement," Wood told John Davis, Kent Alexander's second-in-command, when they were assembled. "We have an agreement. If you attempt to renegotiate it, I will have egg on my face," Davis said, adding, "You are not a man of your word." With that, Wood recalled, he rose from his chair and started screaming, "You are not going to say that to me, you son of a bitch!" Kent Alexander interrupted, saying, "This is deteriorating. We aim to stop this. Let's just regroup."When Jewell, Davis, and Martin finally sat down for the interview, Larry Landers, a special agent with the G.B.I., and F.B.I. special agent Bill Lewis had lists of questions with blank space for answers in front of them. On the wall of the windowless room, there were extensive aerial photographs of the park and, as a prop, an actual park bench was later brought in. Martin believed that the agents intended to resolve areas in the affidavits and other questions: Had Richard ever accessed Candyman's Candyland for information on the Anarchists' Cookbook? Had Richard picked up any pieces of pipe when the park was under construction? Had he told anyone, "Take my picture now, because I am going to be famous"? None of this had happened, Jewell said. All he could remember telling someone was that he was off to Atlanta and "going to be in that mess down there," meaning the traffic jams. They pressed him about seemingly inconsistent statements he had made on the morning of the bombing: Why had he told Agent Poor everything was normal when he checked the perimeter of the fence? Jewell explained that he had been walking the "inside of the fence." He once again explained that he had wanted to work the sound-and-light tower so that he could watch the entertainment; he had arranged for his mother to hear Kenny Rogers four days before the explosion.The area, he told Landers, was "a sweet site" and a great place to look at girls. During a break, Martin asked about all his references to women. Jewell said he wanted them to know he wasn't gay. On several occasions, Landers became annoyed: Why couldn't Jewell pin down the times? Had he seen the drunks on the bench between 10:30 and 11 or between 11 and 11:30? Why hadn't he looked at his watch? Jewell later recalled, "I said, 'I don't go through my life looking at my watch. I don't care about time. When the bomb went off, I did not look at my watch.' They were wanting to know what time I went to the bathroom and stuff like that. When you have the runs, you are not really concerned about what time it is. You are concerned with getting to the bathroom."On the day after the F.B.I. meeting, Jack Martin dictated a 27-page account of everything that had been said during the six-hour interview. In the last moments, Davis said, "he wanted to give Richard the opportunity once and for all to say that he didn't do it." Jewell, Martin wrote, "unequivocally and fortunately said that he had nothing to do with the bomb and didn't know anything about the bomb and if he did he would be the first to deliver the bastard to their door." When Martin walked out, he thought to himself, This really was a formality. They had nothing.In November a rumor swept through the newsroom of The A.J.C. that Cox newspaper executives were rethinking their news policies. According to one reporter, "The sloppiness of the Jewell reporting and the lack of sources was the last straw." A reporter named Carrie Teegardin was assigned to write a piece examining how the media spotlight was turned on Richard Jewell. In large part, her article wound up being an examination of the role of The A.J.C. After Wood and Grant threatened to sue, the article was killed. "We didn't get through the editing of it," John Walter said. "The Jewells' attorney began saying, 'We're thinking lawsuit' . . . and that made us more cautious." Meanwhile, Lin Wood and Wayne Grant were busy holding meetings with lawyers from NBC and Piedmont College. At NBC, Tom Brokaw's carelessness reportedly cost the network more than $500,000 to settle Jewell's claims, although Jewell's lawyers would not confirm a figure, BROKAW GOOFED AND NBC PAID, the New York Daily News would later headline. In talks with Ray Cleere, the figure of $450,000 by way of settlement was first suggested, then withdrawn when Piedmont College learned that it had insurance. "This will cost them millions now," Lin Wood believes.On one occasion I asked Richard Jewell if he had any theories about who might have placed the bomb. Jewell said he had popped "two or three theories off the top of my head" on the night he was interviewed by the F.B.I. "I have gone over that night hundreds of times in my head. You try to think, What type of person would do that? I know it is someone who wanted to hurt people. It is someone who is sick. I hope they find him so he can get the help he needs. Because I am totally torn up about what happened. Every day I think about it, and I will think about it for the rest of my life."Jewell often speaks with Bryant three times a day. As Jewell searches for a new job, he hangs around Bryant's office, and he recently studied handwriting analysis at the police academy. He has been offered several security jobs with Georgia companies, but he is hoping he will be hired as a Cobb County deputy. In the meantime, Bryant, Wood, and Grant have become sought-after speakers on the First Amendment.At F.B.I. headquarters in late October, Bobi Jewell broke down and cried as she identified their possessions—the Disney tapes, the Tupperware, Richard's AT&T uniforms, address books. It was a tableau of ordinary middle-class life, laid out on brown paper on a long conference-room table. "I just don't fucking believe this," Watson Bryant said angrily as he packed Bobi's videos into packing crates. "The agents tried to shake my hand," Bobi told me. "I wouldn't touch them." It took 10 hours to remove their possessions, Bobi recalled, and four minutes to return them.The F.B.I. is working on a new and elaborate theory of who did place the bomb in Centennial Park. There is an informed opinion that the backpack discovered a week earlier had in fact been a test run to check F.B.I. procedures, and that the bomber—perhaps a member of a militia group—was quite experienced and had struck before. After a torrent of criticism in the press, Louis Freeh announced that the F.B.I. had arrested Harold Nicholson, an alleged spy for Russia, and he used the opportunity to appear on the Today show and Good Morning America, hyping his role in what was a minor arrest, according to one former F.B.I. agent.In Australia in November, Bill Clinton was asked about his campaign contributions from Indonesia. "One of the things I would urge you to do, remembering what happened to Mr. Jewell in Atlanta, remembering what has happened to so many of the accusations . . . that have been made against me that turned out to be totally baseless, I just think that we ought to . . . get the facts out." When Jewell learned of his comment, he pulled up the transcript from the Internet and became angry: "The president is just using me, like everyone else."What rights does a private citizen have against the government? The legal precedent for suing the F.B.I., Bivens v. Six Unknown Agents, focuses on the behavior of individual agents. Wood believes that Jewell has a strong case against Johnson and Rosario. When Wood learned of Colonel Ressler, he hired him as a possible trial expert. In December, the F.B.I. announced that it would pay up to $500,000 to anyone who could lead it to the Olympic Park bomber.As Jewell and I drove back from Habersham County in November, he went over the early-morning hours of July 27: "I remember all of the people who were my responsibility. I remember the guys' faces who were flying through the air. I remember people screaming. The sirens going off. I don't think I will ever forget any of that. You just kind of wish sometimes. You think, Could I have done something else? . . . What if we only had five more minutes? Then maybe nobody would have been hurt. But you are what-if-ing. I have been over it a thousand times. I think we could not have done it any better. I think that is something I will always be wondering."He said he was not sure if he would ever get a job in law enforcement again, particularly since he had been held up as a cartoon figure. On the day of Jewell's exoneration, Jay Leno apologized for having called him a Unadoofus, and said, "If Jewell wins his lawsuit with NBC, he will be my new boss." He later said that this was "the greatest week in trailer-park history." The Atlanta radio station 96 Rock had put billboards of Jewell all over town; "Freebird," they said, a reference to the Lynyrd Skynyrd song. Jewell would later file suit against the station, but the billboard's message was clear. Jewell knows that for many people in America there will perhaps always be a subtle doubt: What if, after all, Richard Jewell really did do it? What if the government let him go simply because it could not make its case? Then he becomes not the innocent Richard Jewell, but the Richard Jewell who may be innocent. "You don't get back what you were originally," he told me. "I don't think I will ever get that back. The first three days, I was supposedly their hero—the person who saves lives. They don't refer to me that way anymore. Now I am the Olympic Park bombing suspect. That's the guy they thought did it. "February 1997 | Vanity Fair 军事、战争我不是很懂,但逻辑常识人人都有,唯独编剧没有,除此之外,编剧还没文化。 一开头就挺多地方不合理,搞不懂小鬼子为嘛都集中往对方火力最集中的地方前进?肉身挡子弹,他们不会这么傻吧?我做长官,也不会让自己手下的兵毫无遮挡的以肉身冲击火力最猛的阵线。后面国军要员也看得令人捉急,知道鬼子来抓自己,知道自己是个大bullsey 军事、战争我不是很懂,但逻辑常识人人都有,唯独编剧没有,除此之外,编剧还没文化。 一开头就挺多地方不合理,搞不懂小鬼子为嘛都集中往对方火力最集中的地方前进?肉身挡子弹,他们不会这么傻吧?我做长官,也不会让自己手下的兵毫无遮挡的以肉身冲击火力最猛的阵线。后面国军要员也看得令人捉急,知道鬼子来抓自己,知道自己是个大bullseye,还穿着国军的军装大摇大摆卫兵呼呵开道跟百姓往城外撤,咱别侮辱国人智商成不?化妆撤退怎么不行了?嫌丢人还是咋滴?嫌丢人你别撤退啊,前面硬刚可行?从片子里边看可能他没有证件,不穿军装,八路军认不出找不到嘛…… 最后特别要吐槽一下各种用词: 1、接头暗号“金乌破日”,我真是两脸懵圈啊。金乌的辞源编剧是不是不知道啊?古代传说太阳是由乌鸦每天背着东升西落的,这么就有了“金乌负日”的说法,我觉得算是成语啦,同时金乌也是太阳的别称。抗日剧你闹哪样乱改也不可能金乌会去破日的,难道你暗号寓意是小鬼子会自杀?编剧真太没文化了,好歹你用“踆乌减赫、金乌减赫、金乌后羿”也强过破日; 2、中国黑室。这个谐音真的没法忍,虽然百度了确实有这么个机构,但真的没法忍。 最近重刷,比十年前看得要更加感动一些。 十年前看这部剧,理解到的是那个年代在闯关东的一批人身上表现出的坚韧的民族精神,十年之后再看这部剧,看出的是对家园穷尽一生的追寻。 朱开山是全剧的核心,小时候不自觉地给他的定位是“英雄”,但重温一遍,才明白他最终是一个生存者,是在那个新旧交替的风云时代的底层生存者的代表,他的思想说不上进步,这从他对传武和秀儿、鲜儿的婚事上就可以看 最近重刷,比十年前看得要更加感动一些。 十年前看这部剧,理解到的是那个年代在闯关东的一批人身上表现出的坚韧的民族精神,十年之后再看这部剧,看出的是对家园穷尽一生的追寻。 朱开山是全剧的核心,小时候不自觉地给他的定位是“英雄”,但重温一遍,才明白他最终是一个生存者,是在那个新旧交替的风云时代的底层生存者的代表,他的思想说不上进步,这从他对传武和秀儿、鲜儿的婚事上就可以看出来,但是他的仁义礼智信,忠孝节义勇,这些中国传统的道德让他在大是大非的关头从未动摇。中华民族的封建社会,底层劳动人民挣扎了五千年,都是为了这两个字——生存。这生存是个人的存活,是一家人的安定,是民族的荣辱兴衰,是国家的生死存亡,是这片土地上一代代人的繁衍生息。朱开山思想的核心中华民族几千年以来的家族意识,一代代人经受无数的磨难,为的是在历史的苦难中闯出一片自由的家园。对家园的追求,是中华民族永恒的主题,也是民族生命的不竭动力,生生不息,百折不挠,所谓家园,是梦寐以求的温暖自由的地方,千山万水走过只为这一片,自由的天地自由的家园。 文他娘是传统的中国母亲形象,善良、坚强。她一直是这个冰雪覆盖的家中的火炉,不论外面如何风霜雪雨,家里总是安定温暖。十年前对文他娘这个角色并没有什么很深的认识,但现在看来,这个全程没有名字的角色,才是这个家的核心。她不识字,也不懂什么大义,她只知道关心自己的儿子,照顾自己的丈夫,努力经营这个小家。文他娘的性格也是在变化的,年轻的时候朱开山不在家,她既是慈母也是严父。老年之后,她只是一个慈爱的母亲,她不懂传武在外面做些什么,她只希望儿子能在家住一晚,能和儿媳妇好好相处。朱开山和文他娘对于传武的态度,正是中国传统的父母形象。做父亲的和儿子谈论家国大事,鼓励儿子英勇杀敌保家卫国;做母亲的不懂这些,她只会叫一声武儿,拍着儿子的脸说道上黑注意安全,枪子不长眼你可要躲着点,总是说着说着就流下眼泪,被朱开山一顿笑话。可是,当娘的不就是这样吗? 朱传文是三个儿子中塑造得最成功的一个角色。他中国封建社会传统的小农民的最好写照,他勤劳、善良、忠厚、承担起长子的责任,有些小心眼和胆小怕事,爱慕虚荣,这都是小农经济时代的农民的常见特质。他没有什么家国意识,他的卖国曾经让我恨得牙根痒痒,觉得这个人是一个彻头彻尾的坏人。但回首看过却发现他做的一切都是为了让自己这个家能够安定。传文并没有变坏,最后的悔恨也不是因为家国大义的迸发,而是因为受到了欺骗、家人受到了伤害。他一直都没有变,重新看过,反而是在朱传文的身上,中华民族传统的“家”的概念体现得最淋漓尽致。 那文作为最后的满清贵族,有着一身的满清皇族毛病,心眼多,经常打自己的小算盘。但是未经世事的她也是一个善良温和的女性,离开了皇室的庇护,她对一个能为自己遮风避雨的家无比地渴望,也正因如此,她愿意放弃自己曾经的贵族生活,委身嫁入一家普通的农户相夫教子,过平淡安定的日子。但是,曾经的亡国之恨又让她具有更高的国家概念,最后与丈夫走上对立面。 朱传武,是一直以来我最喜欢的一个角色,他是在那个年代下由于各种原因无奈从军的年轻一代的代表,正是由于传武的存在,把这个普通的家庭带到了时代漩涡的中心。这样一批人,有的是走投无路,有的是为了混口饭吃,有的是报国大志。而传武似乎与他们都不一样,似乎是他们的集合体,但又像独特的,他从军的原因是复杂而多样的,他追求的家园似乎在自己的家中找不到踪迹,由于封建婚姻制度的压迫而离家出走,追求自己的家和幸福。但是命运弄人,他和鲜儿最终没能走到一起。他张狂,对秀儿的亏欠是他不能否认的错误;他孝顺,这让他对这个家充满了深切的爱,但他无法对这个家有什么留恋。他不再有年轻时的张狂,成熟之后的他稳重、冷漠,用一身戎装封起了自己那颗火热的心。宁为战死鬼,不做亡国奴,马革裹尸是军人的职责和民族的血性带给他的最终结局,他最终没有找到自己的家园,他死在了保卫家园的战场上。 秀儿,我们似乎很难给她找到一个定位,他没什么特别的,出身小康,善良温婉,是那种戏文里最常见的痴情女子,但是在那个时代下,她的婚姻成了新旧观念冲击下的牺牲品。尽管老朱家疼她爱她,但是对于秀儿来说,有爱情的地方才是家园。无论是传武还是一郎,无论是十八年的独守空房还是在枪口硝烟中弥散的短暂爱情,都让这个女子充满了悲情的色彩,她不敢去追求,她所能做的,只有等待。 朱家老三两口子,是全剧中最顺风顺水的两个人,就这么青梅竹马,结婚生子,恩恩爱爱,事业有成,人生顺利到几乎没什么存在感。在传杰身上,我们看到早期白手起家的民族资本家的身影,他们脱胎于传统的商贾,精于生意却又诚实守信,拼命经商只为了能给自己一家人打下更大的家业,让家人过上更好的日子,而山河煤矿作为全剧的矛盾高峰,赋予在了一向没什么存在感的传杰身上,民族资本家的爱国情结也展现得淋漓尽致。夏玉书作为新女性的代表,有自己的教师工作,思想进步,但却可以说是剧中唯一的一处遗憾,由于本剧的重点并没有放在新老思想的冲突上,使得这个人物的形象塑造略显单薄。但是,当妯娌三人找到传武,向他提出秀儿要和他离婚时,在这一家人的酒桌上,女性对于不公命运的抗争展现得淋漓尽致,这一段也是我在全剧中认为最精彩的一段剧情之一。 龟田一郎,是一个特殊的存在。他是在那个时代亲中的日本人的代表,也是受军国主义思想毒害的年轻一代日本人的代表。作为朱家的第四子,他从小在中国长大,深受中国传统文化熏染,知恩图报,善良温和,对朱家充满了感激,对秀儿充满了爱,可以说无论是哪个方面,都是一个完美的人。但是,在森田大介的欺骗下,军国主义的思想让他背叛了朱家(但在我看来,这是他在效忠天皇的思想下对朱家的保护)。最终,母性的呼唤冲破了军国主义的禁锢,迷途知返之后,却是饮弹自尽。一郎的死令人扼腕,也可以说是最大的悲剧。有人说一郎不应当死,可是,对于轻易便可切腹自尽的日本人来说,一郎由于愧疚而自杀实在是预料之中的事情。深层想想,一郎的自杀,其实是对天皇的效忠、对朱家的报答这两种他生命中最重要的事情冲突的必然结果,如果选择忠,就不能尽孝;如果选择孝,就不能做到忠,一郎也是时代的牺牲品。选择自杀,也是一种无声的控诉。 鲜儿,我特意放在最后说,她可以说是全剧中最复杂的一个角色,现在看来,如果说朱家三子分别代表了那个人时代的农民、军人、商人这三种主要群体的话,鲜儿是对那个时代其他所有人的缩影。她出身农家、做过童养媳、进过戏班、为了救师傅被恶霸糟蹋过、上过山场子、当过大户人家的丫鬟、趟过水场子、当过胡子、蹲过大狱、打过鬼子,可以说她经历了那个时代一个人能经历的所有事情。我看见很多评论说不喜欢鲜儿,认为她走到哪里哪里死人,还做了很多不对的事情,具体说的什么我就不列举了。但是对于这种评论,我只能送两个字——傻逼。没错,鲜儿的命运充满了巧合,如果她更聪明一点,就能早早跑出家门和老朱家一起闯关东,嫁给传文过上好日子;如果她更忍辱一些,就不会被恶霸糟蹋,可能就一直作一个戏子最后成一个名角;如果她更坚定一点不跟传武走,又会有一个完全不一样的结局;如果她不去拔香头,她已经嫁给了传武……但是,我也不知道这些评论的人是怎么想的,不去怪那个时代和那些恶人,却来责怪一个女子做得不够。鲜儿是谁?她只是一个普通农家的女子,她甚至没有受过什么教育。嫁给娃娃亲,在朱家种地农耕,相夫教子,成为一个普普通通的农家女子,过着平凡简单的日子就是她原本的归宿。但是,一石小米彻底改变了她的命运,从此颠沛流离。她的思想说不上多么先进,当上童养媳之后就觉得自己配不上传文而和他离散;她也说不上多么坚强,她无数次地说自己早已认命,可是毕竟,鲜儿只是一个平凡的女子,不管命运如何待她,她的心里始终保存着对家的那一线渴望。在全剧中,鲜儿是对家渴望最热切的人,她的颠沛和命运却一直残忍地拒绝。她总是和传武说:“姐什么时候才能有个自己的家?”然而,那个时代过于吝啬。 在传武牺牲的那一刻,鲜儿的家园彻底破碎了,秀儿的家园也随着硝烟弥散了,老朱家三十年闯关东追寻家园的脚步也走到了尽头。但是,在这个时候,亮子出生了。这个家的脚步还在前进,回首故乡遥远,抬头前路依旧茫然。但是,亮子会长大的,这一代代的人都会长大的,只要有了这一代一代的人,还怕什么呢,这个家亡不了,国家亡不了,民族也亡不了。 这部剧不能说是毫无瑕疵,为了凑历史事件的时间点,时间线确实出了一些软伤。比如玉书和传杰在1914年左右结婚,居然到了1931年5月份才怀孕,虽然在电视剧上表现得不那么明显,但就算二人结婚的时候都只有十八岁,这中间十七年的时间仍然说不过去,设定亮子在哈尔滨保卫战中出生,确实达到了预期的效果,但在时间上而言这一点有些欠考虑。但不管怎么说,这仍然是我看过的最好的电视剧作品之一,而且最近被小鲜肉的演技污染习惯了,回头看这些优秀的作品,简直是舒心到不行。 刚看了一下这个绝地枪王的点评哎呦才5.4分,这分数是不及格了。这对抗战题材的电视也算地分了。而且看看评分人数才290人,一部电视剧题材是限制了关注的群体,但是只有2百多人评分也真是一点水花也没有这就是男女主角的号召力不够了,难怪现在不管电视还是电影都要请当红小生小花啊!这些小生小花自带流量啊!即使再一搬的剧要他们来演这收视率就不会太差。这关注度怎么也不会一点水花也没有。 刚看了一下这个绝地枪王的点评哎呦才5.4分,这分数是不及格了。这对抗战题材的电视也算地分了。而且看看评分人数才290人,一部电视剧题材是限制了关注的群体,但是只有2百多人评分也真是一点水花也没有这就是男女主角的号召力不够了,难怪现在不管电视还是电影都要请当红小生小花啊!这些小生小花自带流量啊!即使再一搬的剧要他们来演这收视率就不会太差。这关注度怎么也不会一点水花也没有。 内容方面,既然是法律剧题材,麻烦专业一点,多介绍下法律条款,基础法律知识!!每次辩护连句法律条款都没有。醉了!!案子也较之韩版缺乏特色。部分演员演技太差!实在是看的尴尬癌都犯了。剧情改编的太尬,跟韩版没法比!女二没什么存在感,跟女一的对立关系也没有表现!!男主的表现也一般般,总之,翻拍的太差!看的没意思。 内容方面,既然是法律剧题材,麻烦专业一点,多介绍下法律条款,基础法律知识!!每次辩护连句法律条款都没有。醉了!!案子也较之韩版缺乏特色。部分演员演技太差!实在是看的尴尬癌都犯了。剧情改编的太尬,跟韩版没法比!女二没什么存在感,跟女一的对立关系也没有表现!!男主的表现也一般般,总之,翻拍的太差!看的没意思。 绝了,是我2020看过的年度最烂没有之一了,居然为了发泄心中的怒火下了豆瓣。不知道女主角的人设到底是谁想出来的,我知道这和演员本身无关,可是看着实在是让人太难受太烦躁了。本来看前几集我就有点受不了了,但是想想有这么多优秀的演员,就继续看,看到金金的案子我再次想放弃,但又期待着会不会有反转,一直看到21集,真的绝了,完全不想再多看了。 主线剧情拖拖拉拉,21集了主线进度居然还停留在 绝了,是我2020看过的年度最烂没有之一了,居然为了发泄心中的怒火下了豆瓣。不知道女主角的人设到底是谁想出来的,我知道这和演员本身无关,可是看着实在是让人太难受太烦躁了。本来看前几集我就有点受不了了,但是想想有这么多优秀的演员,就继续看,看到金金的案子我再次想放弃,但又期待着会不会有反转,一直看到21集,真的绝了,完全不想再多看了。 主线剧情拖拖拉拉,21集了主线进度居然还停留在第一集片头的那么一点点,要说期间的案子精彩或者引人深思也就罢了,但这20集里的案件根本就完全没有悬念,三观也很离谱(指金金案),女主的戏份又多又没用又浮夸,人设前后完全不统一,说是警校高材生,但却是一副完全没长进的蠢样(指剧中,没有骂演员的意思),狂妄自大,有一丝丝小成就就沾沾自喜得意忘形,警校高材生就这?真的神烦。白柳,这么凶狠的一个黑帮头头,女儿死了之后居然放弃了出狱手刃“凶手”的机会,而在狱中到处让别人帮自己报仇??最后崩溃破防被失手杀害,配乐很幽默,很喜剧,但我只觉得……校园霸凌致人死亡的罪魁祸首,只需要落泪忏悔居然就可以得到掌声和原谅,掌声响起的那一刻我整个脑子都是问号,这不是偷窃骗人后承认错误,这是真真实实地造成了别人死亡诶??这热烈的掌声是什么意思啊请问???还有在金家,几个凶手说“以后我们就是您的女儿555”然后四个女孩儿和金家爸妈抱在一起哭,绝了,这是人能想出的剧情吗?这只有绝世圣母才能想的出来,我直呼内行666。但这毕竟不是亲生父母,或许是有可能这么圣母。这向羽居然还跑去白柳面前让她原谅那几个小孩儿,牛,我感受到了圣母的光辉照耀,太牛了。 这部片不应该叫神探柯晨,完全和神探俩字不沾边,就是一部冷幽默讽刺的喜剧罢了(故事情节混乱,人设离谱,立意模糊)。真是可惜了这些演员。 一群水军在哪吹什么致敬缅怀,传承僵尸电影,打着什么小九九没人知道吗,还大言不惭说一群僵尸片粉丝拍的,你们不觉得很丢人现眼?要拍僵尸片没人拦着你们,拜托以后能不能别在致敬九叔了,既然拍就要有所突破,你们拍的不是致敬就是在模仿经典一直循环,能不能打破传统,做出自己的风格?自己做一个IP不也挺好的?就叫葛叔归来啊,等后来人就可以致敬葛叔了,何必一个九叔拍到死呢,观众看多了难免会疲劳吧,还有,听叔一 一群水军在哪吹什么致敬缅怀,传承僵尸电影,打着什么小九九没人知道吗,还大言不惭说一群僵尸片粉丝拍的,你们不觉得很丢人现眼?要拍僵尸片没人拦着你们,拜托以后能不能别在致敬九叔了,既然拍就要有所突破,你们拍的不是致敬就是在模仿经典一直循环,能不能打破传统,做出自己的风格?自己做一个IP不也挺好的?就叫葛叔归来啊,等后来人就可以致敬葛叔了,何必一个九叔拍到死呢,观众看多了难免会疲劳吧,还有,听叔一句劝,九叔你们是真的把握不住 Style is knowing who we are. 和北野武相似,多兰也一直通过电影解剖和认识自己。不仅仅是吃手指的鲁伯特,囧雪约翰也是多兰的一部分,是多兰作为小李子粉丝和明星的两种角色,A面B面都是他。 芭芭拉最大的失败,不是放弃了约翰,而是未曾真正了解他。这条真理只适用于普通人,对于公众人物、艺术家而言,我们应该了解他们的什么?他们又需要坦诚什么呢?为什么 Style is knowing who we are. 和北野武相似,多兰也一直通过电影解剖和认识自己。不仅仅是吃手指的鲁伯特,囧雪约翰也是多兰的一部分,是多兰作为小李子粉丝和明星的两种角色,A面B面都是他。 芭芭拉最大的失败,不是放弃了约翰,而是未曾真正了解他。这条真理只适用于普通人,对于公众人物、艺术家而言,我们应该了解他们的什么?他们又需要坦诚什么呢?为什么这对我们来说这么重要?我想只要从他们创造的作品里去品味和理解,就已足够。 “我为所有事忙碌,唯独忘了我自己…鲁伯特,我希望你好好生活,过上充满认同感和成就感的生活。但我最希望你认真对待生活,别让生活充满谎言,这才是最重要的。”正如影片开头那句梭罗的名言:与其给我爱,金钱,名誉,不如给我真理。 多诺万的死即新生。8.5
从不曾离去
我的爱像天使守护你
若生命直到这里
从此没有我
我会找个天使替我去爱你……”
看完电影之后,这首插曲一直在我脑海里回响着。电影最后的那一幕,当万豪喝拿着一年前两人共同酿造的葡萄酒,久久的凝视着这片见证过他们的幸福的草坪,天边仿佛是化作天使的萱萱在看着他,带着微笑,或者笑中有泪。
萱萱,就是一个人间天使。
从不曾离去
我的爱像天使守护你
若生命直到这里
从此没有我
我会找个天使替我去爱你……”
看完电影之后,这首插曲一直在我脑海里回响着。电影最后的那一幕,当万豪喝拿着一年前两人共同酿造的葡萄酒,久久的凝视着这片见证过他们的幸福的草坪,天边仿佛是化作天使的萱萱在看着他,带着微笑,或者笑中有泪。
萱萱,就是一个人间天使。
为了支持丈夫,她曾经甘愿放弃事业成为全职太太;为了帮助她人,她主动去医院当义工为病人们做心理辅导;而当病魔降临到她的身上时,她也以一颗天使的心对生命勇敢的微笑,帮助起了别的病人。 美丽,善良,坚强,乐观,它们就是萱萱的天使的翅膀。
看完电影后我跟闺蜜跟说,好希望有一个万豪这样完美的男人守护着自己,闺蜜的回答却狠狠的击中了我,她说几乎每个女人羡慕万豪对萱萱这么好,可是有多少女人拥有萱萱的优雅美丽自信吗?就像去年我们刷着求张亮这样的暖男时,我们自己是不是那个甘愿站在张量背后默默支持他的寇静呢?
是啊,有多大的付出才能收获多大的回报,有多大本领才能有多大的收获。门当户对四个字有时候是对的,两个人只有拥有同样质地的灵魂才能真的心灵相惜,才能上演出这样令人动容的跨越生死的爱情故事。
所以,在寻找自己的白马王子的道路上,每个女人都应该努力成为萱萱这样的天使,坚强乐观善良阳光自强。因为只有凭着这双天使的翅膀,白马上的王子才能辨认出你。我妄自以为,这样的相遇,便是一辈子了。
《心理罪》在国产网剧中是少有让我想一直看下去的,确实在制作方面比较精良,在很多场景的拍摄上达到了电影的制作水准(毕竟
《心理罪》在国产网剧中是少有让我想一直看下去的,确实在制作方面比较精良,在很多场景的拍摄上达到了电影的制作水准(毕竟许多电影的制作水准其实也不怎么样)。编剧顾小白是写影评出道的,宣传上说是张艺谋的御用编剧有点言过其实,其实也就参与了《山楂树之恋》的创作。他另外的作品《红色康柏因》也是部文艺片,从既往作品上不太能看出他在这种悬疑侦探片方面的能力。事实也证明顾小白这位老文青并不是很擅长推理类的类型。当然,《心理罪》确实好看,说明顾讲故事的能力还是很强的,懂得调动观众的兴趣,但是逻辑能力太差。如第一集中根据罪犯是建筑工人但又很清高就推测对方一定是高考落榜、一定每天穿着白衬衣(想让自己与其它建筑工人与众不同不一定会通过这种方式吧),这未免太过牵强。可能是日本的推理小说看多了,对这种水平的推理实在是无法接受啊~
抛去编剧逻辑性不足,《心理罪》与美剧最大的的差距应该在演员上面了。无数次让我出戏呀。可能是为了省钱吧,用了些新演员,但主角陈若轩的表演实在太差了,也就颜值还差强人意。还有他女朋友付枚也根本不会演,长得也不咋地。这种悬疑剧的观众应该以男性为主吧,那就应该把颜值分多给女性角色呀,搞两个帅哥在那里是要闹哪样。全片也就男二王泷正和演大壮的韩烨州还会点演技。
据传《心理罪》单集成本达到了300万,虽然小说IP授权费可能不低,顾小白拿的钱也不会少,这个费用还是有点虚高。毕竟演员的档次在那里,电视剧其实大部分成本都是在演员上。另外《心理罪》的声音应该都是后期配的,实在太烂了,或许网剧都这么弄,但听着实在难受。本来看国外的剧因为主要看字幕所以配音影响不大,但是既然是国产剧,那就不能不在这方面较真了。
虽然吐槽很多,但是这部剧确实还是很值得一看,也相信它会火起来。其实这从另一方面也说明了悬疑推理剧在国内是有很大的市场空间的,主要是大家憋了这么久确实都憋坏了,稍微有一部尚可的片子就赶紧抓着看吧。另外优酷有做一部网剧叫《奇妙世纪》,类似日本的《世界奇妙物语》,虽然在制作水准上比不上《心理罪》(主要是砸的钱不够多),但在剧作创意方面还是很不多的,值得一看。
与其在悉尼大学拍,还不如艾利斯顿学院更加的接地气。
至于尴尬的笑点,毕竟有恶棍天使都有两星,大家还是很仁慈的。
爱得很莫名其妙也不重要,毕竟海报上就大写加粗的几个字--主创是溜粉狗。
其实我去看的目的非常的简单,就是去看看这部片子究竟能有多烂,我还对导演和编剧在买爆米花时产生了一定的愧疚,但看完之后,这种愧疚一扫而光,整个人都开了,我
与其在悉尼大学拍,还不如艾利斯顿学院更加的接地气。
至于尴尬的笑点,毕竟有恶棍天使都有两星,大家还是很仁慈的。
爱得很莫名其妙也不重要,毕竟海报上就大写加粗的几个字--主创是溜粉狗。
其实我去看的目的非常的简单,就是去看看这部片子究竟能有多烂,我还对导演和编剧在买爆米花时产生了一定的愧疚,但看完之后,这种愧疚一扫而光,整个人都开了,我都想去和导演一起建设社会主义核心价值观了!
其实赵丽颖的演技肯定不是最烂的,在杨幂和唐嫣的衬托下,显得她的举止是多么的生动,她没有美瞳的眼睛是多么诗意,她不嘟起的嘴巴是多么的魂牵梦萦。
至于张翰,淋雨的那一瞬间,我嘴边“楚雨荨”这三个字就要脱口而出,同样的忘带伞,同样的恶心台词,同样的老梗,只是慕容云海变成了塘主,楚雨荨变成了古力娜扎。
内容,你居然问我内容,
溜粉狗三个字写得不够清楚吗?On July 30, 1996, the media identified Richard Jewell as the F.B.I.'s prime suspect in the Olympic Park bombing. For the first time, the 34-year-old security guard tells his extraordi
On July 30, 1996, the media identified Richard Jewell as the F.B.I.'s prime suspect in the Olympic Park bombing. For the first time, the 34-year-old security guard tells his extraordinary story, to MARIE BRENNER: his brief moment as a national hero, his hounding by the Feds and the press, and his eccentric friendship with the unknown southern lawyer who helped him through his public torment.
2、女主角最后喜欢上范伟了,而且两个人貌似要在一起;
3、不知道是出于讽刺幽默还是我们公司销售不错,在电影里竟然明目张胆的看到我们公司的产品;
好吧!
既然是娱乐,那就娱乐至死
哪位豆友找到我公司的产品了,送书一本
欢迎参与,别再说我无聊了
谢谢!~~~
PS:本人交友范围窄,好友不多,估
2、女主角最后喜欢上范伟了,而且两个人貌似要在一起;
3、不知道是出于讽刺幽默还是我们公司销售不错,在电影里竟然明目张胆的看到我们公司的产品;
好吧!
既然是娱乐,那就娱乐至死
哪位豆友找到我公司的产品了,送书一本
欢迎参与,别再说我无聊了
谢谢!~~~
PS:本人交友范围窄,好友不多,估计个人还是能承担得起的,估计也就不超过10人参与,也就不多此一举的限定什么了
2012年6月5日晚上7点,电影《痞子英雄》梦想校园行在武汉大学人文馆
2012年6月5日晚上7点,电影《痞子英雄》梦想校园行在武汉大学人文馆上演,运动鞋、牛仔裤、上身黑色衬衫的蔡导一身休闲装上场,尽管已是内地宣传的最后一站了,蔡导本人还是略显紧张。现场等候多时的同学们却相当热情,唱起当年红极一时的《流行花园》主题曲《陪你去看流星雨》,现场怀旧气氛浓烈。
主持人一开场就问蔡导小时候的梦想是什么,蔡导回答说小时候想当天文学家,甚至可以在天台上看星星看一夜,主持人立刻打趣说,所以你后来就拍了《流星花园》吗?引起现场哄笑一片。
正式问答前,导演先为同学们带来了19分钟的电影剪辑版给同学们提前尝鲜,虽然痞子从帅哥周渝民换成了和帅八竿子打不着的黄渤,但据现场观感来看,两人的新鲜配对依旧相当出彩,黄渤的搞笑风格让影片“笑果“不断。
随后的提问五花八门,同学们相当放得开,问题从电影到八卦门路广泛,蔡导按兵不动,兵来将挡、水来土掩。下面是一些问题的集锦:
1、魏德圣导演目前在华语电影圈饱受赞誉,蔡导本人的偶像剧虽然影响甚广,所受的关注却要少得多,蔡导本人会不会因为评论界对文艺电影的偏袒而心有不公?
蔡导回答说自己更关注于华语电影的传播生态,华语电影的发展需要文艺电影与商业电影的平衡发展,而“家里总需要一个人出去赚钱”,商业电影带来的利润收入会反过来提升文艺电影的发展。对于评论界的偏袒,蔡导更是笑言说也许等他老了,大家大概就会注意到他了吧!
2、动作片一向是香港电影的强项,蔡导的作品作为台湾动作片有什么特色呢?
蔡导直言自己的所拍摄的电影《痞子英雄》更偏向于美式动作片,强调快节奏、大场面与爆炸性场面。蔡导随后补充认为通过模仿来了解美国大片的技术原理和商业包装对华语电影发展有重要的作用,因为现在华语电影的很多想象无法实现都是因为受限于技术层面的发展,蔡导本人的动作电影亦有意于致力于华语影视产业结构体的未来发展。
3、现场一位同学提到,大陆这一代人很多都是看蔡导的偶像剧长大的,蔡导的作品对这一代人的成长影响重大。甚至可媲美于台湾80年代的罗大佑。
蔡导则谦逊的标示只是希望通过电影能向观众传达美好的讯息,把好的态度展现给大家。更是举道明寺的例子来证明:一个这么帅、这么有爱的人难道不美好吗?不过蔡导的玩笑却遭遇了周渝民粉丝的反驳,大呼花泽类更帅。蔡导也借此强调善良的重要性,希望于同学们能作出好的决定和判断,珍惜人生、善用时间,记住生活中“每一刻都是最重要的”。对
4、校园微电影与资金困境,
蔡导鼓励热衷电影的同学们不要困于资金,如何在现有的条件下把事情做得更好才是最重要的,蔡导强调自己并不是一开始就是一个风光的导演,而是从音乐片、电视剧一步步走来的。当年大热的《流星花园》的拍摄时候却是导演人生最低谷、最贫穷、最落魄的时候,那时妻子怀孕花光了所以的积蓄,自己的股票大跌。但就是这8万块的投资支票让他走出了困境。
5、信念
蔡导说有两样东西支持她走过了这些困境。一是对电影产业的信念本身,相信会有更好的技术、更大的市场;其二则是来自自己太太的支持,蔡岳勋初做导演,由父亲推荐,却连续被两家单位辞退,还连累父亲一起被炒掉,太太嫁给他时台湾媒体都觉得她疯了,而家人的支持让他坚持了下来。或许世界上根本不存在梦想这一回事,重要的是要坚持下来。
6、有关自己
现场有同学问蔡导有没有考虑像九把刀那样,拍一个关于自己的电影。不过蔡导坦言自己年轻时代非常荒唐,到处交女朋友。随着时间的流逝,那些遗憾却都慢慢沉淀了下来。或许是颇有感触,蔡导现场还劝告男同学们不要像自己当年那样,因为那些荒唐的日子都会成为心中黑暗的负担和不舒服的回忆。蔡导坦言自己没有九把刀那样浪漫和值得回味的过去,也拍不出来《那些年》那样的电影。但如果要拍,他更愿意拍关于他父亲的电影,父亲作为导演的人生更像是一个台湾电影的故事。
7、关于《痞子英雄》
对于自己的作品《痞子英雄》,蔡导认为在一个二分化的世界里,只有通过比较才能发现另一个世界的存在。痞子和英雄是两个对立又互补的存在,每个人身上其实都存在着这两种矛盾个性。每个人都有勇敢、单纯的一面,也有风流、逃避的一面,一个人既可以成为英雄也能做痞子,自我冲突的这一面只能由自己来决定。
现场提问环节热烈,不少同学甚至举起雨伞、气球以吸引导演和主持人的注意力,导演及宣传团队也非常慷慨地为每位提问题的同学送出了纪念礼品。会后,不少同学上台与导演合影留念,蔡导都一一满足了心愿。
以前了解蔡岳勋导演都是通过《康熙来了》,蔡导和剧组一起去宣传电视剧和电影,不过看康熙的时候注意力全被赵又廷和周渝民这一票帅哥吸引走了,见面会现场时只有导演一人,貌似比较有利于导演发挥魅力。虽然没有赵又廷帅,不过44岁的导演本人看上去相当年轻,回答问题时真诚谦和,对轻狂往事也不避讳,现场还幸福地分享了四个孩子的幸福家庭,但是在谈到电影时,却能感觉到导演本人对电影产业极大的热情。近年来,台湾电影风生水起,与大陆电影烧钱烧一大堆却拍不出好看的电影正好相反,台湾导演通常经济紧张,夹着裤腰带拍片子,却拍出了叫好又叫座的电影。蔡岳勋导演不是特例,台湾导演似乎整体上要踏实不浮躁一些,所以魏德圣导演能苦心拍摄《赛德克?巴莱》。大陆也有这样的导演和这样的优秀作品,去年的《钢的琴》同样获得了很好的口碑。但不同的是,《赛德克?巴莱》获得的社会关注和支持却是电影《钢的琴》所不具备的。台湾社会的宽容度与个人的踏实与理性主义情怀是大陆望尘莫及的,而从中受益的,也绝不仅仅是台湾电影产业而已。
因为发现了这点小小追求,所以我对《大电影》系列很是看好。如果只是拿别的电影开涮,这纯属抖机灵,除了像“填字游戏”那样检阅观众看片量外,再没有其它意义。《大电影》真正让人发笑的地方在于,它把我们耳熟能详的电影片段成功拼贴到我们周围的现实当中去,让那些灰色、沉重、紧张甚至压抑的现实,好像经过哈哈镜的变形,突然呈现出一种极度娱乐化的面貌,我们的郁闷也因此找到了一个出口。
我们正经的国产大片总是在试图远离现实,纷纷逃进古代帝王的皇宫大院,反而是“不正经”的《大电影》里有我们要看的现实——虽然只是皮毛,这本身就够黑色幽默的。《大电影》还有一个好处,那就是反应敏捷。互联网下载影片自欺欺人的声明、“解说门”事件、名言“人不能无耻到这个地步”都被它信手拈来,一一用在片中无不妥贴。有了这些坐标,我们就能够清晰辨认出这个我们身处的时代。说不上多好,但好歹是属于我们的时代。我们笑不是因为它本身有多可笑,而是因为我们了解它的来龙去脉,想到它那法相庄严的出处,就忍不住笑出声来。
《大话西游》有今天的经典位置,不是因为它惹人发笑,而是因为它笑中带泪;不是因为它够无厘头,而是因为在它的无厘头下面埋藏着欲爱不能的无限真情。同样道理,《大电影》系列要更深入人心,它就必须继续拿出和它的玩世不恭同等程度的真诚和勇气。
电影的剧情可谓是一部典型的电影教材经典范例,它融合了剧本要求的所有经典内容,虽然看似没有台词与对白,很显然电影这种人物之间的声音交流已经让我们感知到了那种对白的融合,这样不但加深了电影对于人物形象与故事剧情的设计,也起到了很好的此时无声胜有声的艺术效果!对于电影的动画人物设计,貌似简单形象,粗暴简陋,没有好莱坞动画设计的精细与华美,也展现不出来独特的风格与特点,不过这些活泼可爱的小人物们还是比较讨人喜欢的!电影最为精彩的还是剧情的严谨活泼与配乐的相得益彰,那种宏而宽泛的剧情有如《魔戒》般的气势华丽,剧情设计的为之巧妙也是非常抢眼的,有如公路片的冒险里程配合了一个弱小落魄的可怜形象,踏上了一段困难重重的探险旅程,成就了一个拯救蚁国的孤胆英雄,不但赢得了友谊也收获了爱情,这不但是一部典型的电影案例,也成就了一部值得人细细品味的电影经典!最值得让人赞美的还得是电影的精彩配乐,配乐师深深地抓住了电影的灵魂与精髓,每一个场景每一段故事,或是悠扬愉悦或是紧张急迫,电影的配乐都能完美的诠释与配合电影剧情的发展,不但让我们在享受电影配乐在艺术上精彩的同时,也让电影从本质上上升到声光电完美融合的高端品质!电影称得上是昆虫版的《魔戒》与《特洛伊》,那精彩的追逐戏与攻打城池的宏大场面完完全全给人一种史诗电影的感觉,虽然放大开来感觉有点袖珍可爱,但电影所制造出来的气氛却一点不输战争史诗电影!
很完美的一部电影,充满了丰富的想象力,电影故事也跌宕起伏颇有看点,而且电影的人文气息浓厚,探讨的人生价值与心路成长都颇有启发与普世价值!我们从电影里看到的不仅仅只是弱小的昆虫世界,更多的还是在映射人类世界的故事,不管是共患难的友谊,还是无所畏惧的拯救与献身精神,都是非常值得我们思索与探讨的!
区别于好莱坞的动画电影,没有架构宏大的电影结构,也没有太过深邃与严肃的主题,简简单单的为我们展示了一个天马行空,生动活泼的成长故事!电影的实景画面很美,每一个镜头都堪称一幅美丽的风景画,电影以一种文艺的视角来反应出电影独具内涵的艺术核心,解剖与拆分出动画与实景相结合的重新定义,为我们呈现出来的电影也是清新脱俗给人耳目一新的感觉!我们会不知不觉的被电影故事所打动,也会情不自禁的爱上这部电影,它带给我们了一种别开生面的电影模式,更为导演完美驾驭实景画面与动画制作的融合所惊艳折服,这不仅仅是一部简单的动画电影,它更代表的是一种法国本土特色的电影创意与独特魅力!
整部剧:Wes和Rebecca 是我看过的美剧里面最让人讨厌的主角色了 Wes这个人太过
整部剧:Wes和Rebecca 是我看过的美剧里面最让人讨厌的主角色了 Wes这个人太过主观 说Rebecca没杀人被Griffin诬告的人是他 觉得Rebecca杀Sam是为了自卫他的宝贝儿根本没有错的是他 最后觉得Rebecca在骗他很有可能自己一直与一个杀人凶手午夜共眠的也是他 这个人嘴炮特别厉害 像每天背着个大锅在熬鸡汤一样 自诩正义总是一副纯洁小天使高高在上对世人进行所有评判的模样 觉得一个人没杀人是因为自己相信对方 觉得一个人没撒谎是因为自己相信对方 总是一副“我都跟你说了我相信他了 你要是不相信我你就是有病”的样子 可是又没什么有说服力的证据能够呈现出来给大家看 纯嘴炮真是太醉人了 这人本身没什么大脑 甚至可以说这整个剧情就是因为他把毫无关系的Connor Michaela Laurel Milston给拖进来才能拍15集的呵呵哒 至于Rebecca我更是想跟编剧谈谈人生 从一开始我就觉得Rebecca这个人有一种莫名其妙的对别人的智商优越感 好像从一开始导演就想将她塑造成一种庞克天才少女的样子 比如造型比较独特 说话语速比较快 可是骚瑞啊 Rebecca这人从头到尾嘴里没一句真话 能咋作死就咋作死 至于她的妆。。骚瑞我觉得那只是单纯熊猫眼而已和酷炫拽霸气毫无关系呵呵哒 说话语速快更是让我觉得这个女的没大脑 后来看到这两口子滚床单都想自插双目了 憋逼逼了 有这时间拍这对狗男女麻烦再多发一点NO的糖好吗
整部剧:至于女主角Anna Mae 其实我觉得这个名字比Annalise更好听诶 就这样叫她吧 她这个角色让我觉得太奇怪了 真的是喜欢不起来 即使是十分想要试图展示出她的精明强干 可是一直在坑Nate 让我觉得这个女的相当冷情啊 Nate也是够蠢的 都被坑了不是第一次了偏偏每次都像飞蛾扑火一样还是要去和这个女的搅和在一起 是嫌自己的人生不够热闹哦 Anna卸了妆以后不予置评 做事方法也让我总感觉她之所以能够赢官司都是因为自己善于造假啊这特么是怎么一回事情啊
后半季:Michaela妹子最后和Aiden老娘说拜拜的时候太帅气了 不当同妻什么的简直是正三观啊!原来Aiden还真是gay啊 Connor这小可爱太淘气
整部剧:第九集的Anna Mae说don't be的时候 我真的尖叫了出来 太不可思议了 果然后来这个坑填的很辛苦呢编剧哈!
好的,剧透,原来是Frank受Sam之托杀了Lila哦!
呼,爽