文_发不沾霓

1922年，德国表现主义时期的电影大师茂瑙第一次将德古拉伯爵的故事搬上银幕，给当时的观众造成了极大的恐慌。吸血鬼德古拉的形象更是在随后的电影里被无数次地重现和颠覆。纵向来看，赫尔佐格的这部［诺斯费拉图：夜晚的幽灵］，有茂瑙的［诺斯费拉图］在前、科波拉的［惊情四百年］在后，它能在众多的电影里脱颖而出而与两者齐名，所仰仗的，正是精心的场面排布和演员戏剧化的表演。 三幕悲剧 从故事上来看，赫尔佐格的这部作品更接近茂瑙的［诺斯费拉图］，而茂瑙的那部作品则脱胎自布拉姆·斯托克的小说《德拉库拉》，当年因为无法搞定版权的问题，茂瑙不得不对原作进行一些修改，例如将德古拉伯爵的名字改为“诺斯费拉图”，以及对男女主人公和德古拉以外所有角色的轻描淡写。到了赫尔佐格拍摄这部电影的时候，已经不存在版权的问题了，但他依旧沿用了“诺斯费拉图”这个更为深邃的名字以及茂瑙的剧本框架，然后进行了一些细节上的润色和修改，比如他改回了原著小说里人物的名字（不过赫尔佐格将原著中露西和米娜所对应人物的名字对调了一下）。除此之外，原版电影的历史地位虽不可撼动，但过于老套的故事本身还是不太适合1970年代的语境，于是赫尔佐格稍作调整，将一个正邪对立的老套故事，变成了一出由男女主角哈克和露西，以及德古拉伯爵三人所构成的互相交织的悲剧。 哈克每天尽心尽力地工作，为的是让妻子过上更好的日子，于是面对上司所托付的艰难任务——前往“吸血鬼之乡”特兰西瓦尼亚与神秘的德古拉伯爵会面，他毫不犹豫地接受了。哈克与妻子道别，踏上了艰险而漫长的旅途。路人口中所提到的有关德古拉所居古堡的骇人传闻，以及他所翻看的有关吸血鬼的书，都没有使他退缩。见到了德古拉后，他却被软禁在了古堡里，白天受着思念爱妻的煎熬，夜晚又遭到了德古拉的袭击。当德古拉动身前往哈克所居住的小镇寻找露西时，哈克才得以逃脱，历尽艰险赶回家乡，但病魔的侵袭令他记忆全失，他对爱人的记忆与他源于责任的爱一起消失了。 德古拉是个忍受孤独数百年的可怜老者，在他与哈克见面的第一次晚餐上，他进行了一番诚挚的内心独白。他虽有不死之身，却无刻骨之爱，他乞求露西给他一点爱，但同时又必须接受本能的驱使。毫无疑问，这是注入了人性的德古拉，他所需要的是他永远得不到的爱，他所厌倦的是世人所追求的永恒，就像《无间道》里所唱的“生存往往比命运还残酷”，德古拉所直面的残酷恰是夜复一夜的血液和孤独。 露西的角色可以视作忠贞的典范，也正是她对丈夫的忠贞不渝满足了“圣洁少女能使吸血鬼忘记公鸡的初啼”这一条件，才成功解决掉了德古拉“造福人类”。露西与德古拉的第一次会面，就被要求将自己对丈夫爱的一部分献给德古拉，而露西却坚定地说：“休想！我甚至不会把这份爱给上帝！”露西对哈克的爱也没能迎来完满，当爱人归来却陷入失忆；当德古拉的噩梦不断浮现；当小镇上的人们相继死去，丧失所爱的露西以死亡作为归宿，充当除魔的祭品。 神经质女神遭遇情绪化魔鬼 吸血鬼之所以迷人，是因为他们神秘的习性和悲剧性的命运，他们高贵、冷酷，同时又带着捉摸不透引人发狂的危险。但是这种迷人的特质经过岁月沉淀之后已经有些变味，如今吸血鬼身上的危险因子似已不见踪迹，原本令人敬畏三分的吸血鬼们变得温柔可亲，从［夜访吸血鬼］到［暮光之城］，吸血鬼的外形愈发俊秀，举止愈发儒雅。而恐怖，这一吸血鬼最初得以深入人心的特征已经被时代所淘汰。回到赫尔佐格的［诺斯费拉图］，在吸血鬼的外形上，赫尔佐格几乎是照搬了茂瑙旧版中德古拉的形象：枯槁的面容、光秃的头颅、长得离谱的指甲以及尖锐又惹眼的两颗门牙，这样的处理更贴近原著的描述，毕竟德古拉伯爵是个活了几百年的孤独老者，而非身强体健的英俊小生。从这样一只吸血鬼的脸上，人们是不可能生出“亲近”的念头的。 除了造型之外，阿佳妮和金斯基风格鲜明的人物塑造也为影片增色不少。在出演［诺斯费拉图］之前，阿佳妮已经在［阿黛尔·雨果的故事］和［维奥莱特和弗朗索瓦］里了尽情诠释了什么是疯癫和痴心，阿佳妮身上习惯性神经质、疯癫入髓的气质已经呼之欲出。电影开头是一个阴暗洞穴内的长镜头段落，镜头扫过周围腐坏不堪的尸体，配上阴森的音乐营造出一幅可怖的景象，晃动的画面极有代入感，紧接着是一只硕大的蝙蝠缓慢地挥舞着双翅，然后画面切到了阿佳妮饰演的露西那张惊醒的脸，原来这一切都是露西的梦境，也可视作后来所遭厄运的先兆。阿佳妮在电影大部分的时间里都在思念夫君、花容失色和惊声尖叫这三种状态里切换，所以要说阿佳妮的表演如何惊艳倒也谈不上，不过她的扮相却令人联想起志怪小说中的女妖：黑发、白衫加朱唇，只是阿佳妮那湛蓝的双眸里写满的是全是惊恐而非魅惑。而且阿佳妮那双瞪得又大又圆的双眼，可能也只有［闪灵］里的谢莉·杜瓦尔可以与之相比。而出了名难伺候的“狂人”金斯基，更是长着一张在恐怖指数上能够完爆威廉·达福的脸，他本人在戏外的种种出格举动更是人们永远都说不完的话题。扮演“诺斯费拉图”前，金斯基和赫尔佐格在拍摄［阿基尔，上帝的愤怒］时因为环境的恶劣发生过激烈争执，于是人们担心拍［夜晚的幽灵］的时候金斯基又会爆发，毕竟他每天要花去四个多小时的时间进行化妆，这显然会成为他“撒野”的借口，可这回，他偏偏像个乖巧的孩子，配合得很。金斯基版的“诺斯费拉图”虽然从外形上看是茂瑙旧版的翻新，但金斯基煞白面容下的忧郁眼神，为之赋予了一份脆弱，再加上彬彬有礼的举止，于是乎，吸血鬼的戾气全然不见，取而代之的是德古拉邪恶外表与脆弱内心的对立，充满了戏剧性。 赫尔佐格的佐料 赫尔佐格版的［诺斯费拉图］大致可分为两部分，前半部分为哈克前往古堡寻找德古拉，后半部分是德古拉入侵小镇，散布瘟疫和恐慌直到被消灭。在前半部分中，荒凉的大自然成了导演渲染恐怖氛围的利器，旅途伊始的青葱田园风光逐渐被冷色调镜头捕捉下的洞窟荒野所替代，哈克孤独地前行着。而暗无天日的古堡就像一座囚笼，微弱闪烁的烛火始终让哈克如临幻境，他甚至分不清德古拉在他颈间留下齿痕的那次突袭究竟是梦境还是现实。 到了影片后半段，赫尔佐格场面调度的功力开始显现，例如德古拉和露西的第一次会面。露西位于画面正中央背对观众，镜头则对准了镜中露西的脸，此时，右后方的门忽然打开，却只听见德古拉的脚步声和门上德古拉逐渐扩大的影子（吸血鬼是不会出现在镜子里的），直到德古拉近身，才从画面的右边进入。再看广场上的狂欢，对“瘟疫”放弃抵抗的人们把餐桌搬到广场上，围着篝火跳舞、演奏，周围则是遍地的老鼠，将这仿佛末日来临前的景象拍得既绝望又动人。 赫尔佐格在影片里一面借露西之口说出了“上帝总在我们最需要他的时候远离我们”这样的话，同时又通过对范海辛这个“吸血鬼猎人”的重塑来嘲笑新兴科学的无能，他在片中唯一的成就竟然是对德古拉的“鞭尸”，还将消灭吸血鬼的功劳揽到自己身上。这里的隐喻很有趣，德古拉死于科学所不可解释的神秘（圣洁少女的牵制和阳光），而“科学的代言人”（在片中是范海辛）却将杀死德古拉的胜利果实占为己有。拯救人类的不是上帝，也不是科学，赫尔佐格所嘲弄的不是信仰对象，而是信仰本身，所以范海辛的被捕更像是赫尔佐格的一个玩笑。就像故事最后，被德古拉咬伤而没死的哈克成了新的吸血鬼，策马驶入荒漠的深处，至此，科学信条和神秘主义谁也没有将谁消灭干净。 刊载于《看电影·午夜场》2014年六月号

“当吸血鬼也想来到人间得到爱……”

这部电影给我的感觉并不恐怖，而是冷。这种冷不至于毛骨悚然，除了用光暗、声音来渲染，在金斯基和阿佳妮的缓慢的肢体语言和精湛演技中更能慢慢渗出德古拉伯爵的冷和孤独。

影片中有好多令我印象深刻的镜头。

影片一开头就暗示德古拉伯爵渴望并计划着来到人间。吸血鬼的化身蝙蝠在天空中飞翔而寻觅的姿态，热爱丈夫的露茜被不祥的梦吓醒，瑞费尔德先生委托乔纳森出发谈话中频频出现诡异的笑声。

在招待乔纳森的晚餐里，在黑暗和白光投射下，德古拉听着阴山古堡常有的寒风呼啸，表现出对乔纳森到来的一丝喜悦：“听，听，黑夜之子又在唱歌了。”他盯着乔纳森吃饭，克制着内心的欲望，直到哈克不小心割伤手指流出血才露出嗜血欲望。乔纳森后退着害怕地看着他，他又抑制住内心的欲望了。

德古拉伯爵急切地签下买房合同后的深夜，他在阴暗的隧道慢慢走向哈克的房间，露出本性，决定干掉乔纳森。乔纳森此时才真正地感到恐惧。然而伯爵似乎感应到露茜在梦游中惊醒并呼喊乔纳森，他又若有所思地留下乔纳森活口，成为要挟露茜的爱的理由。

我觉得最好看的是露西首次与德古拉伯爵见面的过程。露茜整理着头发，忽然门就打开了。阿佳妮饰演的露茜听着门声和脚步，看见伯爵的影子却不见身体，她慢慢展开的肢体动作和表情仿佛在说：“有一股寒气随之而来，不能动弹，我感到害怕却要与之对抗。”当伯爵提出渴望得到露茜一点爱的要求，甚至要挟着他能令乔纳森恢复记忆，露茜毫不恐惧，更为这份爱展现出她的勇气、圣洁、不可侵犯：“休想。我甚至不会把这份爱给上帝。如果乔纳森不能拥有我的爱，那么，没人会拥有了。”面对贞洁而坚定的露茜，即使是吸血鬼也只能被挫败地离开。

露茜决定牺牲自己杀死德古拉伯爵，面对张着爪扑向她的伯爵，她感到一丝害怕。当她轻轻地推开伯爵时，伯爵低沉地妥协，露茜依旧圣洁得不可侵犯。

整部片子以阴冷气氛为基调，但在冷下面有着人之间的暖：露茜和乔纳林之间有着炽热的爱——乔纳森为了改善生活而冒险来到德古拉伯爵的古堡，面对着德古拉伯爵的强烈要求，露茜丝毫不动摇，坚定不会施舍伯爵一丝爱；面对着瘟疫，乐观的人们利用生命尽头时光尽情享乐。

在2020年看这部片子有种特别的感觉。德古拉伯爵吸血鬼化身的蝙蝠，带着瘟疫来到人间。影片最后虽然德古拉死于人类手下，但在大自然法则底下，象征着死亡、疾病的吸血鬼落在下一个被选中的人身上，乔纳森成为了下一个吸血鬼，他悄悄地骑着马奔向了未知的远方。

人类在大自然中探索到的科学知识，自信地以为能够解释大自然；大自然悄悄地以某些方式给予人类未知程度的灾害。

2003年的SARS病毒爆发，国人好不容易战胜了它，本应以此为诫，建立防备知识和制度，可是17年后的2020年，传染性病毒再一次到来并爆发，再一次击倒某些愚昧官员的自信。2003年国人付出巨大代价才从SARS病毒获取知识；如今世界各国仍要付出巨大代价才能从大自然中获取知识。

此时乔纳森伯爵离去，未知何时再次降临。

以前看过一两部赫尔佐格的电影，总觉得电影里的故事演进方式怪怪的，不是纯靠情节(推理式的预想)推动，也不是靠诗意的感觉引导，有种说不出的疯癫在里面。但看这部电影感觉不太一样。我觉得有一种类似哲理的演进的东西，作为电影的内核存在，仿佛电影本身被导演以哲理诗的方式构建和呈现给我们，我们可以看到种种元素背后的理念如何相互抗衡。也许赫尔佐格的别的电影也采取了这种行进的方式?

摄取永恒之果的恶魔，一种人与上帝之间的理念作为恶魔被构想，并被放入传统的吸血鬼故事里。这个理念是由一个对于永生，对于无穷时间的世俗化解释引起的矛盾所构成的，任何存在者(一个纯粹理念的至高存在者除外)都不能是永生的，那么从这个角度看，被构想出的诺斯费拉图就不能是一个生命，而是非生命(然而他渴望爱，渴望成为"生"，渴望不再只是一个逡巡于阴影底下的坏念头)，那么他是什么？吸血鬼? 魔鬼? 一个坏的理念? 随着镜头我们跟随男主人公来到诺斯费拉图的古城堡，我们看到一个坚韧的精神是如何在阴翳之中前行，并且像命中注定一样走向了一个反生命的地方，一个吸吮着生机的死亡之地。而这个坚韧的精神是在爱之滋养下变得如此，一个坚韧的精神在死亡的边缘最终走向自己的归宿，也是自己的反面——来自非生命(但又不是单纯的死亡)的威逼。最终女主牺牲了自己消灭了诺斯费拉图，连同诺斯费拉图的破旧身骸一起陨落的可不止是瘟疫，还有一种坏念头：永恒的生命，相反，女主坚持生命之永恒，只要河水仍在流淌，生命就不会止息，永恒作为谓词被归还给了神圣的上帝，然而作为理智动物的人，一种幻相或者迷雾是必然的，这种迷雾植根在理性本身，它时不时会反噬自身，它与生命一样不会死，只是变换着形态延续下去。

To Be Read Aloud in His Voice, Obviously

转载自：Lithub

ByWernerHerzog December 16, 2019

A gloomy moon shines on the silhouette of a gloomy castle. The coach drives through an arched doorway into a sort of forecourt. Harker climbs out, and the coachman indicates with an imperious gesture that he should mount the steps before him. Harker remains standing indecisively before a large, closed portal. As he is mustering the courage to knock, the leaves of the door creak, and slowly, very slowly they swing open of their own accord. Inside all is dark.

Out of the darkness emerges an almost rigid figure in a tight-fitting black jacket. Its shoulders hunch forward slightly, and its hands are cramped together. The legs appear to be long and thin, and the fingers seem to be long as well, pale, with elongated claw-like nails. The face is as pale as a corpse, the head completely bald. The ears are crumpled, and pointed like a bat’s.

The eyes that stare at Jonathan cause us, like him, to shudder. Count Dracula? Jonathan asks. Yes, he is Count Dracula, and he welcomes him to his castle. He has been expecting him and invites him to enter. The night is cold, and he must be tired and hungry, the Count says.

Dracula takes a lit candle from a ledge along the wall and lights the way. When he holds the candle in front of himself for a moment, Harker thinks he can see the light shining through his body. But that effect disappears almost at once, for the Count takes pains to keep the candle to one side of his body. The door creaks shut behind them.

*

The dining hall, lit by candles. A fire flickers in the fireplace, casting crazy shadows on the walls and ceiling. The table, chairs, and other furniture very large. A long oak table and chairs with high, uncomfortable backs. We can tell how thick the walls are by the embrasures of the windows, which are barred. Despite its generous proportions, the room feels gloomy and inhospitable.

Two trunks with iron fittings, apparently locked for centuries. On the table stands an iron candelabrum from the late Middle Ages, and indeed everything here seems to originate in that period. The table is set with a sumptuous meal, but for only one person.

Dracula takes the seat at the head of the table and places Harker beside him where the meal prepared for the guest has been laid out. Harker hesitates, not sure at first how to break the silence; out of embarrassment he begins to talk business, producing the papers on the house and a letter from Renfield. He explains that the folded sheet of paper contains the layout of the house, which will certainly be of interest to the Count. Dracula pays it no mind, however; he has his eye fixed on Jonathan. He should help himself, he says softly; unfortunately he will have to dine alone.

The knife slips and slices into his thumb. In a flash Dracula is standing beside him, grasping his wrist.

It is almost midnight, and at this hour he, the Count, does not eat. Unfortunately, too, the servants are not available now, so Jonathan should allow him, the Count, to see to his comfort. Dracula speaks with exceptional courtesy, all in a very soft voice. Something about it conveys menace; his very presence fills us with trepidation.

Jonathan overcomes his nervousness and begins to eat heartily. The long journey has indeed made him hungry, and he applies himself enthusiastically to the wine. After a while he senses he is being watched intently and looks up. We see Dracula from close up. He is hiding his face behind Renfield’s letter, which is encoded in almost illegible hieroglyphs. Slowly he raises his eyes from the page. His gaze meets Harker’s. Both hold their breath for a moment, and then Harker resumes eating. Suddenly a small grandfather clock buzzes and begins to strike.

The clock close up. With every strike a little skeleton hits a small anvil with an ax. At the stroke of 12 a door opens, and the figure of death appears, holding a scythe. It swishes the scythe mechanically through the air, then disappears jerkily behind its door.

Dracula is highly aroused. He pricks up his ears. Suddenly the grisly howling of wolves can be heard from outside. Listen, Dracula says, those are the children of night. What music they make! He notices Harker’s terror, but then Harker catches himself and assumes a sheep-like expression. Ah, young man, Dracula sighs, as a city dweller he, Jonathan, cannot place himself in the soul of a huntsman.

Harker has become shaky and does not pay proper attention as he cuts himself a piece of bread. The knife slips and slices into his thumb. In a flash Dracula is standing beside him, grasping his wrist. He is about to apply his mouth to the blood, but Harker’s alarmed reaction causes him to pause. A terrible conflict takes place inside the Count. Then he releases Harker’s hand, excusing himself with the argument that the knife might be contaminated and Harker could end up with blood poisoning.

He should let him suck the wound—the oldest cure in the world. But Jonathan declines politely, saying it is nothing, a tiny cut like that is not worth mentioning. But to Dracula the wound proves irresistible; he can no longer control himself—or can he? No, he refuses to allow himself to show his true face so soon. He turns away, starting to return to his seat. But as he turns, his hand, as if no longer in his power, darts toward Harker’s, and faster than the speed of light seizes it like a steel claw.

The rest of Dracula’s body spins as if electrified, and at that same moment his mouth attaches itselfto Harker’s thumb like a leech. For several seconds the two of them remain motionless, until the vampire lets go, as if struck by a blow. He recoils at his own loss of self-control. Jonathan should understand, he says, he wants only the best for him.

Harker, by now on his feet, backs away and falls into a large leather chair near the fire. The flitting shadows of the flames are joined by two large fluttering, flitting bats. Slowly, very slowly the vampire approaches. They should stay up together, he says softly; sunrise is still a long way off, and during the day he is always out and about. Overcome with nightmarish fear, Harker shrinks deep into the armchair.

*

Lucy’s room. She is tossing and turning, tormented by dark dreams, when a slight sound makes her sit up suddenly, her hair wild. She looks like someone who is not yet awake. The window is open, and the curtains stir slightly in the nocturnal breeze. A large black bat has become tangled in a curtain, where it is jerking its wings and clinging to the fabric with its hook-like claws. Its mouth gapes wide as it squeaks venomously. At the sound an abrupt, inexplicable shock courses through Lucy’s body.

*

Harker, still in the heavy leather armchair, opens his eyes and looks around, drunk with sleep. Only with difficulty can he shake off the oppressive dreams he had during the night. What happened? Where is he? He looks around and recognizes the room, which only now, in the daylight, reveals its shabbiness. The heavy draperies are moth-eaten; there are spider webs in the corners, and dust is everywhere, as if the place has been unoccupied for decades. A ray of light enters through one of the windows, shining directly on Jonathan. Strange, hollow notes of a fiddle can be heard from outside, like someone practicing runs.

Harker yawns. His eye is drawn to his thumb, and he remembers cutting himself. He touches his neck. What is this? A mosquito bite? He gets up and goes over to a mirror on the wall. Hesees two puncture wounds side by side, not large, not conspicuous, but certainly odd. For a moment Harker is taken aback, but then we can see that he rejects the thought that has occurred to him. He inspects his surroundings more thoroughly. He sees that the table has been set, quite obviously for him. It veritably groans with dishes.

Before he sits down to eat, however, Harker takes a closer look around. The main entrance is securely locked, but a door to one side of the dining hall is open. He wonders where his luggage might be; it is missing. The side door takes Jonathan into a strange, gloomy corridor, almost like a dark tunnel. From there a small door opens into a room with a bay window. Ah, there are Harker’s travel bag and the saddlebags, neatly placed on a chair, along with his coat and hat. A bed, a candelabrum, a few pieces of furniture, all in manorial style.

The castle here is so unreal that sometimes I am tempted to believe it is just a figment of my dreams.

The bay window juts out like the prow of a ship, offering a view of a bright day and wooded mountains. Not a house, not a village in sight. A strange, unreal wind seems to blow through the castle, which seems like something in a dream. Harker pokes his head out the window, high above the ground. Far below yawns part of the inner courtyard. Down there in a niche he spies a ragged gypsy boy, practicing his fiddle with utmost concentration. Harker calls to him, but the boy is so engrossed that he does not hear him. An air of mystery surrounds the lad.

Next we see Harker stepping through a door into the courtyard, but now no one is there, although the fiddling can still be heard, clearly and unmistakably.

Harker continues exploring the castle. The gloomy corridor up above extends all around the castle, with other smallish rooms with bay windows opening off it. He comes upon an old kitchen, equipped with a stove but no other appurtenances. All the exits are locked up tight. Before Harker wends his way back to the dining hall, he opens a door into what turns out to be the library.

A strange, gloomy, dusty space with barred windows. Bookshelves up to the ceiling, with thousands of volumes, left unread for decades. In a gallery reached by a short staircase a collection of stuffed birds and other animals. All these rigid objects placed without rhyme or reason. The passage of time has faded the collection to the point that none of the natural colors remain.

Harker returns to the dining hall and sits down calmly to eat. The fact that he cannot get out of the castle seems not to preoccupy him. For now his bodily needs are well met. From outside the fiddling can be heard, disconcertingly hollow.

*

Jonathan is sitting at the window and staring out, deep in reverie. In his hand he holds the medallion with Lucy’s portrait. He pauses and looks at it attentively. Then he extracts a notebook and writing instrument from of his saddlebag, reflects for a bit, and begins to write. His handwriting is fluid but full of character, and we can read along.

Lucy, my dearest, he writes. There is no postal service here through which I might send word to you, so I shall keep a journal, in which I can record all my thoughts and feelings for you at home. So last night, after a toilsome journey, I reached my destination in Transylvania, the castle of Count Dracula.

He breaks off and looks out through the shattered panes of his window. Outside wind tosses the crowns of the large trees. Ravens screech. Jonathan resumes writing: I had oppressive dreams last night and hope that will pass. They have left me feeling torpid, but perhaps that also comes from the insect bites on my neck. Ah, well, I hope to bring my business with the Count to a happy conclusion this evening. The castle here is so unreal that sometimes I am tempted to believe it is just a figment of my dreams.