鬼吹灯这个IP算是玩烂了吧，纵观几年没有几部能看的。

前一小时基本上都是废话，直接拉过去就好，后面与其说是下墓还不如说胡八一大战蚰蜒！王胖子战斗工具居然是弹弓，我勒个去！全程打酱油偶尔放俩屁扯后腿这是我认识的胖子吗？

人物递进关系太过于生硬，前一秒仿佛仇人后一秒又成了战友，人物好像有那个大病！一开始老胡和胖子莫名其妙偷了个鸭蛋就为了引出女主角也是呵呵。

特效就不说了，穿个军大衣喘气连个白气都没有，进了墓室瞬间脱下衣服博眼球，整个剧情莫名其妙，最后彩蛋也不知道合在一起出来是什么玩意，雪莉杨是这么加入的？浪费时间！

目前看到13集，宋命真的很吸引人，城府够深，头脑清醒，对自己太狠了，实力够强，也够深情。

目前看来这个人物也就是个男n，重要程度连吕温侯都不如，但是一板一眼都很丰富。悲惨童年，努力奋斗，一心干事业，保护小青梅，真不是别的小说男主过来客串的吗？

虽然是原创人物，还是希望他能有好结局，能得偿所愿。宋嫣能看到他的好，别眼瞎再盯着男主了，让男主继续开后宫吧！

随着内地视频网站与香港影视制作的合作日渐增多，以往充满浓郁地方特色的“港式行业剧”也多数成了合拍剧。这些剧集依然沿用香港制作班底，演员阵容也不弱，但有时候还是避免不了“南橘北枳”的尴尬。

由邵氏兄弟和爱奇艺合作拍摄的《守护神之保险调查》目前正在TVB和爱奇艺播出。该剧聚焦保险调查行业，由观众熟悉的黄宗泽、苗侨伟、刘心悠、徐子珊等担任主演。从播出反响来看，《守护神》虽然保持了港式行业剧的基本水平，但程式化的故事和表演却让这部合拍剧少了一点灵魂。

剧集的演员阵容，仿佛“飞虎”来串门。《守护神之保险调查》由邵氏兄弟出品，不少已经离开TVB的熟面孔又出现在观众面前。《守护神》就像是半年前《飞虎之潜行极战》的延续，连角色造型都不用换：黄宗泽从酷帅飞虎“高家朗”摇身一变，成为吊儿郎当的保险调查员“百天明”；苗侨伟这次不是“卓sir”（《使徒行者》）也不是“聂sir”（《飞虎之潜行极战》），而是因为患上创伤后遗症而转行做保险调查员的前警员“张东”，形象仍是外冷内热的“型叔”；吴岱融则从狠角色摇身一变成为“搞笑担当”。此外，《宫心计之深宫计》的“元玥公主”刘心悠也“穿越”到现代，剪了个短发、换了套职业装，就成了资深保险调查员杜心茹；而同时热播的爱奇艺自制剧《原生之罪》主演翟天临，也跑到《守护神》里凑了个热闹。

非但与《飞虎之潜行极战》使用同一套演员阵容，《守护神》几位主演的人设更完全延续他们的老套路。黄宗泽这两年始终在两种角色中摇摆，一种是嬉皮笑脸却深藏不露，一种是不苟言笑且隐忍沉稳。他在《飞虎之潜行极战》里偏向后者，这回在《守护神》里又回归嬉皮笑脸的一面。剧中，黄宗泽饰演的保险调查员百天明平日里流里流气，关键时刻却十分靠谱，这个人设与《溏心风暴3》里的“阿九”几乎没有区别。至于女主角刘心悠，虽然这次演的是一个职业女性，但仍然延续了《深宫计》里的“傻白甜”风格，角色心地善良却遇事冲动，连那种“瞪眼+大喊”的表演方式也是一脉相承。

剧集的情节套路 缺少了“走心”细节。《守护神》采用行业剧常见的单元剧形式。面对不同的案件，黄宗泽、苗侨伟、刘心悠饰演的三位保险调查员对调查对象进行追踪、套取信息。无论是案件还是调查手法，《守护神》都展现得中规中矩。剧中许多案件还能看出现实原型，比如第一个案件“演唱会粉尘爆炸案”，源自2015年发生在台湾的八仙乐园派对粉尘爆炸事故；邵美琪演绎的“杀夫骗保案”，讲述她扮演的黄莲三年“克死”两个老公，拿到两份巨额保险金，案情也明显参考了日本七旬“黑寡妇”笕千佐子杀夫案；此外，一些案件十分贴近香港现实生活，比如“迷你仓火灾案”，就聚焦“寸金尺土”的香港所特有的、供个人租用存放不常用物品的“迷你仓”。

但是，一部优秀的行业剧，除了展现行业如何运作之外，还需要有打动人心的人物和故事。而《守护神》所欠缺的，正是这种“走心”的神韵。该剧试图通过保险调查来呈现人性，但每个案件都缺少细节，难以让观众对剧中人的命运感同身受。

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Works Cited

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

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

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

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

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

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

看了一堆骂小三的，说孩子失去了母亲就应该恨小三，孩子最可怜了，小三这种不值得同情。

我承认现在的9年义务教育没有一门课专门的、系统的讲逻辑的，但是你们这个思维能力差的有点儿盲流的压子。

首先，就出轨这件事情来说，小三和男主肯定一定程度上都是不道德的，但是我看一评论说，男主应该和老婆离婚了再和别的女人相处，我目测你是个学龄前儿童或者恋爱不超过0.5次的，照你这个说法，人，只要结婚了，就应该关起来，不然在外面谁知道会接触到什么人，会不会相爱呢？这俩人是医患关系，最开始接触肯定不是相亲去了，但是处着处着有好感了，就回去找老婆商量离婚了，所以片头一开始孩子们的妈是一副了然的样子。可是老婆明显不同意离婚还想挽回，无论男主移情别恋有多么不道德，你也不能逼着一个人爱一个人，既然现在离婚合法，就请你们别逼着别人退回封建社会。然后按照评论的说法，自己老婆自杀了，就应该和小三绝交，等孩子们接受了现实再去找小三，谢谢，孤寡孤寡孤寡孤寡，我对你真的无话可说。结婚了就得完全舍弃自己，伴侣不愿意离婚就不能离，移情别恋不行分居不行，反正只要对方还爱自己就不能离。配偶没了孩子最大，为了孩子自己不能有自己爱情和生活。你们品品，一般这种，最后都是偏执狂类的精神病。

其次，这俩熊孩子，利用一个精神病患者的病因，主动刺激病人，而且还是这种这么严重的病因，这无异于谋杀，如果你们觉得合理，那你们就是在合理化一个不讲法治，直接私刑伺候的社会，就算是真的盲流，请你多看点儿新闻联播行么，你这个压子容易出事儿。虐杀小动物这事儿我就不说了，人命在你们眼里都不算啥，何况一条狗命，毕竟，他俩还是个孩子，亲妈还自杀了。你可以说小孩子不懂这其中的轻重，但我告诉你，自己难受就要百般还施给别人并且真的动手了的，这种就是个犯罪分子的苗子，不信你看多少罪犯都是觉得别人欠了他们的他们要讨要回来。就这俩熊孩子不知轻重的，不可恨？不算作死？不算害人？那我希望你们都能拥有两只这样婶儿的娃，诚祝。

影片揭示了殖民主义的无耻嘴脸，让人们去思索文明的霸权与生存问题。英帝国主义殖民者妄图用他们的工业文明来取代一切，用他们的船坚炮利来征服世界，他们企图把西藏作为侵吞东方古国的跳板，对这里伸出了罪恶之手。罗克曼是这部影片里我最痛恨的角色，这个曾在圆明园里纵过罪恶的火的强盗，又假扮成科学家，窜入神圣的青藏地区刺探地形，如果不是被耿直善良的藏族小伙子两次搭救，这个家伙早已死于非命。可是他恩将仇报，很快就带领他的殖民军重新来到，用欺诈手段和火枪大炮对藏族兵民展开了血腥的屠杀。他满口要给异国的人民带来他的“文明”，实际上就是用他的帝国主义来侵吞、掠夺所有可利用的资源，不惜残害所有可贵的生命，其无耻嘴脸代表了帝国主义的特征，令人切齿痛恨。他看到格桑点燃他赠送的打火机准备点燃火药库同归于尽时，居然还一字一顿地说“Why shuld you and I have been friends?”最终自食其果粉身碎骨。

影片最使人震撼的是藏汉两族人民面对残酷的侵略毫不退缩，舍生忘死与凶残的敌人血战到底的精神，他们的血肉填满了苍茫的红河谷，他们用生命谱写的这一曲壮歌，让我们感受了藏汉一家的深厚感情，还有他们热爱生活、热爱自己的国家和民族的满腔热血。当看到无数的藏汉儿女在疯狂喷射的枪炮面前倒下时，当看到一个个穿着血红僧袍的僧徒在冒险给战士递送军火的悬崖上饮弹坠落时，不由得为他们可歌可泣的牺牲而崇敬感动。当最后只剩老阿妈和她的小孙子走在高原间，诉说着古老的传说时，我们可以看到藏族同胞顽强坚韧的生命力。

在疫情期间我一直在想我们人类与动物之间的最美的样子究竟是怎样的呢，直到看了这部纪录片我终于找到了最理想的答案。

记得，在第一集中一只伪装成小猴子模样的''间谍''猴成功的混入了猴群，这时一只母爱泛滥的母猴抱起了间谍猴却一不小心将小猴掉在了地上，这让周围的猴子都凑了过来纷纷关心这只可怜的小猴但当大家靠近小猴的时候才发现它没有生命体征，猴子们便统统误以为小猴子死去了于是它们纷纷用行动表达出了自己的惋惜与悲哀，但这只小猴和它们非亲非故以至于连朋友都算不上。但这正体现了友好与善良。

但是人类却在一步步的破坏着这一切，比如穿山甲它们在地球上生活了8000多万年这样一种古老而顽强的生物却在人类存在的几千年中被屠杀的所剩无几，为了不被人类捕捉它们让自己变成了病毒携带者却还是让一些无良商家贴上了''野味''、''补品''等标签以致于让它们在自己曾经赖以生存的家园无法存活。还有蝙蝠等一系列的野生动物它们都携带者致命的病毒，为了不传染给人类它们 尽可能的让自己看起来不像食材却还是改变不了被送上餐桌的命运

它们远离世俗的喧嚣远离尔虞我诈，我相信只要我们愿意递出友谊的''橄榄枝''那么人类与大自然一定可以和平共处 。

拒绝野味，它们不属于餐桌！

别看这部剧外表是一部古装剧，其实他的骨子里，就是一个纯粹的悬疑推理剧。并且是和香港推理剧常用的桥段，非常相似的类型，只是把故事的背景放在了古代，加上悬疑推理的情节简单了一些，就变成了这样一部古装剧。

四个主人公的设置，有些参考四大名捕的感觉，故事呢又没有真正意义上的创新，于是乎，这部剧就看着很像是一个杂乱的拼盘。故事的缜密性上其实有待商榷，中级大BOSS的出现，那种黑化的过程明显就很突兀，甚至有些不合理。而原本的反派，突然就一下子变成了最重要的救世主。你倒是在前面演绎故事的时候，塑造一下人物的复杂性啊，可惜没有。一切的人物反转，说来，它突然间就来了，不给你任何准备。

必须夸一句的是，有些细节还是很靠谱的。比如，皇帝微服私访的时候，品茶。那茶确实是茶汤，完全符合史实。