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    砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.1砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.2砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.3砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.4砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.5砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.6砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.13砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.14砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.15砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.16砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.17砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.18砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.19砂制时镜下的疗养院 剧照 NO.20
    更新时间:2024-04-13 01:39

    详细剧情

      哈斯的彩色电影,《萨拉戈萨手稿》的姊妹篇,个人觉得他的风格更适合彩色,此片要比《萨》更为出色。这是一次内心的历险。故事背景设在二战前期,一位年轻人乘坐一辆奇怪的列车去看望住在疗养院中垂死的父亲。但这个即将拆毁的地方唤起了他许多过去的回忆。他被过去的士兵、殖民地的雇佣兵、昔日生活中的女孩,以及他的父母所包围...  获奖:波兰电影奖最佳产品设计奖  戛纳电影节评审团奖并提名金棕榈

     长篇影评

     1 ) 时间的沙漏和纽结

    百讲这次为我们带来了波兰导演、新现实主义大师沃伊⻬希·哈斯改编自布鲁诺·舒尔茨短片 小说的电影。两小时的电影中,哈斯在支离破碎的沙漏时间里,编制构建起了一场主人公约瑟夫的 梦。从哥特式支离破碎的列⻋上下⻋,到墓碑前的凝视,我们跟着约瑟夫一起,在瑰丽的色彩和华 丽的转场中,感受到了导演在时间纽结的载体下,对于战争、宗教、政治、命运等多个议题的讨 论。任何试图用情节分析去诠释这章华彩的时间咏叹调的尝试都会是徒劳,笔者在这里就电影中几 处视听感官上触动人心之处进行探讨,尝试写下自己的拙⻅和感触。

    影片的开头和结尾很有意思,以一个窗外景物的固定镜头开始,变焦到环视整个阴暗的哥特 列⻋,影片的现实冷色调在此埋下了基础;结尾是一个下摇镜头,导演让我们把目光从疗养院下降 到墓碑里,和开头如出一辙的色彩象征着衰败和死亡。整个电影在男主到达疗养院进入房间之后, 直到一片白光梦醒时分,主要部分都在瑰丽的想象世界中进行,色彩的转移也让我们很好地察觉电 影情绪的转移变化。

    约瑟夫的梦,他摆弄时间的沙漏,我们是在一个个华丽的转场中感受到的。哈斯很巧妙的借 用一些空间上分割表意的媒介,来呈现情节时间情景场所的变化。导演三次让男主⻆从床铺餐桌底 下爬出,每次爬出就回到了一个时间上全新,空间上熟知的场所。第一次是从故事开始时间点范畴 的家乡小镇,在情妇阿黛拉的家里出逃到繁荣的集市碰⻅父亲,从而引出电影梦境段落中最绚烂荒 诞的场景;第二次是在比安卡的床下面再一次逃离到家中,再一次对父亲的寻找,引出小镇上对于 宗教的讨论;最后一次是从小镇的圣餐桌子下面回到疗养院,目睹蜡像复活的圣迹。每次利用狭窄 空间的转场都象征着约瑟夫对于破碎的沙漏时间的全新认知。另一个令人拍案叫绝的转场方式是利 用水平上的视⻆移动来切换空间。男主第一次就是在破窗缝隙之间窥视,看到女护士带领新的家属 来到疗养院进而镜头平推来到男主的梦境,再次摘开遮挡已经是母亲的家中。之后的电影梦境文本 中也多次出现平移视⻆带来空间转场的效果,每一次都是导演给观众心理上对于情节跳切的暗示和 准备,约瑟夫既是自己时空梦境幻想的主体也是平行镜面的观测者,他在摆弄时间的同时也逃不过 时间纽结的作用。

    影片最出彩之处自然是关于时间和空间的探讨,不论是视觉直观的呈现方式还是借由男主人 公台词留下的哲学思考都令人印象深刻。视觉上哈斯多用⻓镜头,不同时空维度的景别设置色彩分 明,让观众随着约瑟夫一起梦境遨游,感受时空交替。电影从引路的列⻋员作为开始,男主来到父 亲的疗养院寻找自我,最后梦醒,约瑟夫从床上起身,被医生和护士穿戴上吊灯,继承了列⻋员和

    父亲的双重身份。最后对于墓地的收场镜头和男主与医生的争辩,也是很明显的对于沙漏时空下约 瑟夫走向死亡的情节暗示。医生一开始暗示父亲已经死亡,但疗养院想办法冻结时间;在梦境中约 瑟夫和大象⻢戏团关于伟大的讨论;最后对于“可以摆弄空间却没法操纵时间”的疾呼。都让观众很 容易与约瑟夫感同身受,在视觉奇观中敬畏感受时间,同时也超脱于电影文本反思自己对于时间纽 结的把握。

    当然,影片中随处可⻅的政治宗教议题以及多处隐喻也是颇为精彩。笔者对于波兰的政治及 宗教历史不甚了解,但哈斯用⻦类、⻝物、蜡像等多处隐喻,既达成了电影场景意项的构建,也完 成了对于战争历史的指向讨论。整个电影就很容易让观众置身于二战前后的波兰去理解历史的轮 回,而其中两次在蜡像处约瑟夫的停留是最为直白明显的典范。首先,蜡像对于人物形象的冻结和 疗养院对于时间沙漏的把玩不谋而合,蜡像超越简单的机械原理开始运动,也构成约瑟夫梦境中对 于时间操作的一个互文。其次,蜡像历史人物的设置也让电影故事放置介于战争历史背景之中。最 后,蜡像的运动,形成视觉奇观,和⻦类的静止构成了令人叹为观止的对比。

    最后,影片充盈的想象力,对于后世影史作品的影响也是显而易⻅的。第一次出现于小镇上 的工人歌舞表演,炫目的咏叹旋转镜头,在匈牙利诗意电影导演⻉拉塔尔的电影中可以多次找到对 应,如《鲸⻥⻢戏团》;对于奇观的塑造,恰到好处的环境背景音和色彩拿捏似乎在科波拉的《现 代启示录》中得到了传承;对于梦境的现实的交织、荒诞的宗教隐喻、特别是楼梯上房间里的裸女 情色暗示,又很难让人不想到南斯拉夫导演库斯图里卡的史诗巨作《地下》等等。哈斯将奇观的完 美展现和政治哲学的探讨隐喻融为一体,让观众彻底沉浸于他编织出的奇幻世界。

    #本影评修订版发布于北京大学百周年讲堂官网以及公众号#

     2 ) 哈斯的四维空间

    Movie2019No.118《砂质时镜下的疗养院》一封瑰丽奇幻写给父亲的致歉信。以时间的嵌套结构展开,比萨拉格萨更奇幻隐晦,更具象征意义。每一个结构都是一个独立又与其他结构有关联的空间,空间彼此以门、床底、地洞这些梦境中经常出现的元素相连,每一个空间都承载着对一段历史的回忆和哈斯融入其中的感情,有对年少生活时没能帮助父亲母亲的歉疚,有对纳粹残杀犹太人的愤恨、恐惧和哀恸,有对父母经商理念的质疑,有自己年少时的性觉醒和性冲动。

    影片开始哈斯坐着火车,如果注意车窗外的风景,能发现列车在做圆周运动,如同表盘,行走方向是逆时针。暗示时间倒流。梦境开始,疗养院大门是嵌套结构的开始,前半部分越走越深,后半部分从床下原路折回,又回到疗养院大厅,本以为终于要醒过来了,没想到换上了一幅假眼,穿上了时间列车上列车员的制服,又被护士重新推到了时间的沙漏中去,陷入其中再不得出。

    非常美丽的一部电影,构思精巧,有关四维空间的描述,诺兰严谨而恢弘,如同交响乐,哈斯则把四维空间做成了鲜艳瑰丽极具民族色彩的的迷幻民谣。

     3 ) 砂制时镜下的疗养院影评

    快刀浪子翻译不是浪子小刀
    三个轮回:护士,医生,父亲,戴眼镜的男孩,母亲,两只狗,另一个自己,睡觉的人,一帮犹太人,橘发少妇,床底吃蜂蜜的小胡子,邮差,酋长,集市上的鸟头人,轿子上的列车检票员,大象,黑衣女鬼,蜡像馆,黑人火枪士兵,碧安卡公主,极乐鸟,食客,阿拉伯人,烂牙齿的女乞丐,骑兵军队,行刑,爬满蛆的鹦鹉,彩色妓女.
    蜡像馆里的历史人物:刺杀伊丽莎白女皇的无政府主义者卢克尼,塞尔维亚的恶魔女王拉德格,爱迪生,俾斯麦,皮裹腿,因手淫而毁灭的天才,弗朗兹约瑟夫,马克西米利安大公,拿破仑三世,勒熙德平飞球,韦拉克鲁斯,维克多伊曼纽尔,荷罗孚尼罗宋汤人头.

     4 ) 待续

    导演:沃伊切赫·哈斯

    编剧:沃伊切赫·哈斯、布鲁诺·舒尔茨

    主演:扬·诺维茨基、塔德乌什·孔德拉特、伊雷娜·奥斯卡、哈利娜·科瓦尔斯卡、格斯塔·霍洛贝克、博泽娜·阿达梅克、卢德维克·伯努瓦、维克托·萨德茨基、塔德乌斯·施密特、埃米尔·布恰茨基、杰吉·特雷拉、

    语言:波兰语、意第绪语、希伯来语、拉丁语

    又名:沙漏、沙漏疗养院、用沙漏做招牌的疗养院

    获得当年波兰电影奖最佳产品设计奖及第26届戛纳电影节评审团奖并提名金棕榈

    电影取材自犹太裔波兰作家布鲁诺·舒尔茨的短篇小说集《鳄鱼街》,故事保留了中短篇《用沙漏做招牌的疗养院》的叙事主线:男主约瑟夫探望在一间疗养院休养的父亲,院长自称可以通过拨回时间而让弥留之际的病人残活于反复的二手光阴,而整部电影也在此设定下演变成一出关于时空的魔术秀场,一座流动意识与梦魇的恐怖展览馆。哈斯穿针引线整合了散落在原著各个短篇中无家可归的灵魂,让其在电影的隔绝空间内共襄盛举,既将小说的碎枝乱蔓完整网罗,又构筑成导演自成一体的视觉图谱与隐喻系统。

    故事背景设在二战前期,男主乘坐一辆奇怪的列车去看望住在疗养院中垂死的父亲。但这个即将拆毁的地方唤起了他许多过去的回忆。他被过去的士兵、殖民地的雇佣兵、昔日生活中的女孩,以及他的父母所包围……。很多处看得非常感动,画面感很好。对父子的感情描写得抽象又细致,有个递进的过程,个人感觉更像是一个心中有愧的青年来到养老院看望临终父亲的精神描摹,但视角有些利用父亲的神志不清。全片太有梦的状态了,要知道还原梦有多难。

    片中有这么一个场景,约瑟夫爱上了隔壁的姑娘比安卡,为了调查其父亲的身世,约瑟夫前去蜡像馆探个究竟。在其步入蜡像馆后,另一个之前从未出现过的天地横亘于眼前,约瑟夫狂喜的内心外化到异于寻常阴暗的色调上,瞬间变得瑰丽奇幻。他游走其中,移步换景,此处虽为长镜头,不同蜡像之间的无缝转接亦形成接力式的高密度信息传递,反而达到了一种空间上的守恒,这期间仍然包含了相当丰富的涵义,在视觉画面已经相当复杂的情况下画外空间也被拓展开来——插入了混杂不清的声效(仿佛来源于精神病院的哭喊),意义的负荷度已达到了空前的极限。更为重要的是,这些繁复的影像语言组合传达了舒尔茨对蜡像本身的阐述:“蜡像的样子与前世相差甚远,闪亮专注的眼睛完全被夺去了记忆,他们是假冒者,他们或许真是疯子,选择某个准确的时刻拼命捕捉进入头脑的某个精彩的思绪,定格在那里,一个新的人诞生了”。

    纷华靡丽的长镜,巧夺天工的转场,忽明忽暗的灯光,这些元素营造了一场盛大的灵魂之旅,非线性叙述,用电影来透析死亡,以寻找父亲来掩盖这场盛大而华丽的步死之旅。用视觉中心主义来淡化剧情,用饱满的意象作为内容展示。哈斯在自己的电影世界中,建立了一套以视觉性为标准的认知制度甚至价值程序。在电影中,哈斯使用视觉隐喻来意指那些具有启示意义和真理意义的认识。《砂制时镜下的疗养院》可以说视觉性隐喻贯穿了整部电影,从而形成了一种视觉在场的形而上学,让整部电影的剧情通过视觉性的感受逐渐展开。

    柏拉图在“洞穴比喻”中,执迷于洞穴幻影的囚徒逃向真实世界的过程,就是凭借高贵的视觉亦即心灵的理性之眼获得真理之启示的过程,是囚徒摆脱枷锁获得真我知识的过程。

    哈斯设置了一个寻找父亲的男人,而故事的背景设置在二战前期,在寻找父亲的过程中,这个角色并不是按照常规叙事的模式来完成整个寻找的过程,而是摒弃了真是叙事的模式,让角色完成一种心灵之旅。一顶帽子,一支蜡烛,一辆火车……这是一个列车长的形象,也是一个引渡人的形象。在塔可夫斯基的《乡愁》里有一个很长的镜头,主人公拿着蜡烛一次次护着蜡烛从一头走向另一头……这里面有个传说,只要蜡烛不灭,在另一头插上,就能回到故乡。塔可夫斯基拍这片子的时候身在国外,因为政治原因回不了国,《乡愁》可谓就是这次的心境,代表了自己的思念以及希望。而《砂制时镜下的疗养院》那一支蜡烛同样表现出了哈斯以及布鲁诺·舒尔茨的乡愁以及希望。

    布鲁诺·舒尔茨是波兰伟大的作家,受到卡夫卡影响,他的创作是荒诞与超现实的,但与卡夫卡不同的是——卡夫卡的作品更多表现出的是存在主义,是时代的荒诞与虚无——舒尔茨的作品在表现荒诞与虚无中还暗含了自己对生自己的地方的一股浓浓怀恋,从其的《祖国》等小说可以看出。作者的作品通常是受时代影响的,所以舒尔茨的这些情感可以追溯到波兰不堪入目的近代史,分分合合被侵吞被瓜分的历史。一次世界大战以前,波兰就已经处于被瓜分的状态,俄国法国普鲁士等,波兰主流政党流亡于国外,国内剩下的是傀儡政权。一次世界大战时,波兰人希望通过战争来收回失地,然而获胜国在瓜分利益时忽视了波兰,并没有给予他们本来的国土。直到三十年代波兰才建立了一个算是有完整主权的国家,然而很快又被强国们出卖给了德国。

    本片是沃伊齐希·哈斯最诡异却最迷人的超现实主义作品,影片中随处可见的政治宗教以及多处隐喻也是颇为精彩。哈斯用鸟类、食物、蜡像等多种形象,既达成了电影意向的构建,也完成了对于战争历史的指向讨论。影像风格与布鲁诺·舒尔茨的作品风格一样,是不可归类的(超现实主义、象征主义、表现主义、现代主义皆可)。

    影片充盈的想象力,对于后世影史作品的影响也是显而易见的。工人歌舞表演时使用的咏叹旋转镜头,在匈牙利诗意电影导演贝拉塔尔的电影中可以多次找到对应,如《鲸鱼马戏团》;对于奇观的塑造,环境背景音和色彩恰到好处的拿捏似乎在科波拉的《现代启示录》中得到了传承;梦境和现实的交织、荒诞的宗教隐喻,特别是房间里裸女的情色暗示,又很难不让人想到南斯拉夫导演库斯图里卡的史诗巨作《地下》……哈斯将奇观和政治、哲学的隐喻融为一体,不能不让观影者彻底沉浸于他编织出的奇幻世界中。

    素材来源于网络,侵删。

    马丁·斯科塞斯呈现:波兰电影杰作 第八辑

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     5 ) 搬运个英文字幕

    THE HOURGLASS SANATORIUM

    We’ve almost arrived.

    How will I get there?

    You’ll find the way.

    You don’t need help.

    I’ve come a long way.

    I booked a room by telegram.

    Who can I see?

    Everybody is sleeping.

    I’ll tell the doctor when he wakes up.

    Sleeping?

    It’s daytime not night.

    They sleep all the time.

    You didn’t know?

    Night never comes here.

    You can wait downstairs.

    In the restaurant.

    The doctor will see you now.

    Where is he?

    We received your telegram yesterday.

    We sent our coach to the station.

    You must have arrived

    on a different train.

    The station?

    We don’t have a good train connection here.

    How are you feeling?

    Is my father alive?

    Of course.

    I mean to an extent

    allowed by the situation.

    You know, just as I do,

    that from the perspective

    of your home, your country,

    you father is dead.

    This cannot be fully reversed.

    His death casts a shadow

    on his existence here.

    But he doesn’t know or suspect?

    Don’t worry.

    Our patients don’t suspect anything.

    They can’t.

    You probably want to see your father.

    I’ll take you there.

    We reserved a bed for you

    in his room, as you requested.

    The trick is that we moved back time.

    Time is late here by an interval

    which I can’t precisely define.

    It all boils down to relativity.

    Here, your father’s death

    hasn’t occurred yet.

    But he met with his death

    in your country.

    So my father is dead.

    - Or is close to death.

    - You don’t understand.

    We reactivate past time

    with all its possibilities.

    Including recovery.

    We let our patients sleep

    for a long time.

    We spare their vital energy.

    They have nothing better

    to do anyway.

    Why don’t you lie down?

    There’s nothing more

    you can do now.

    Goodbye.

    Goodbye.

    I came to talk to you.

    Go on.

    Why are you spreading lies

    and gossip about father?

    - What lies?

    - I know you’re behind them.

    I didn’t lie.

    You remember how he went

    missing for many days.

    He avoided us.

    Who knows whether

    he’s still alive somewhere?

    I have to know the truth.

    Stop tormenting me.

    It’s hard to communicate with him.

    How can I cope

    with everything myself?

    How can I answer questions

    which God keeps asking me?

    It’s too much for me.

    His complaints terrify me.

    - Don’t cry.

    - I have a migraine.

    You won’t go to school today.

    To school?

    Mom, I’m not a little boy anymore.

    Yes, you are.

    You’ve got ink on your hands.

    Your knees are bruised.

    You’re a naughty, unruly boy.

    You hang out

    with God knows whom.

    Wake those good-for-nothings.

    It’s time to open the shop.

    - But I’m sure...

    - Stop tormenting me.

    I told you that your father

    travels around as a salesman.

    Sometimes

    he returns home at night

    only to go off again before dawn.

    I’m sure he’ll come back.

    You’re tossing and turning

    like fish out of water.

    - You sleep a bit, doze off a bit...

    - Yawn a bit.

    And you rest again.

    You should learn wisdom

    from an ant, lazybones.

    An ant? Go to hell.

    That ant of yours knows

    no teacher, boss or shegetz.

    And it’s doing fine.

    What’s he talking about?

    I walked the fields of a lazy man.

    I walked the vineyards

    of a stupid man.

    Where is that from?

    Our Lord didn’t say that.

    Don’t listen to it!

    Nettles grew over everything.

    Thorns covered his land.

    And the stonewall

    collapsed to pieces.

    Clap your hands

    and call out His name

    while rejoicing.

    Call out his name to the sounds

    of songs and trumpets.

    Praise Him with harps,

    praise Him with lyres.

    Praise Him with the drums

    and dancing.

    Praise Him with stringed

    instruments and horns.

    Praise Him with the cymbals.

    Praise him

    with loud clanging cymbals.

    Let everything that

    has breath praise the Lord.

    Alleluia.

    Clap your hands and sing.

    Sing.

    Sing wisely.

    In a dream he saw a ladder

    that reaches from earth to heaven.

    And God’s angels

    were going up and down on it.

    Is it possible?

    It’s our little Józef!

    Did you get lost on

    your way to school?

    Well?

    Rascals! They’re everywhere.

    When I want to go down

    to get bread in the morning,

    I can’t even....

    ...open the door.

    They squeeze through cracks.

    And try to get into the kitchen.

    They ogle me.

    They can hardly wag their tails.

    They’re overjoyed

    when they see a fire.

    They clap their hands

    and dance like savages.

    They’re hopeless

    at putting out fire.

    But they like to celebrate.

    - Who are you talking about?

    - Those idle firemen.

    They get lazy in autumn.

    They sleep while standing.

    I think you’re prejudiced.

    They’re nice boys.

    An old stove-fitter told me

    that when he repairs chimneys,

    he finds them attached

    to the smoke vent,

    motionless like the larvae.

    They sleep like that being

    drunk from raspberry juice.

    And they whine in their sleep:

    "Sugar, sugar".

    If I glance at one of them,

    his face swells and becomes

    obscenely red like a turkey.

    I heard that it’s a way

    of strengthening the inner self.

    And rejuvenating colours

    when firemen eject fireworks,

    rockets and Bengali lights.

    I won’t give them

    any juice anyway.

    I didn’t ruin my complexion

    hovering over the stove to make it,

    so those rascals could drink it.

    Unfortunately, Adela,

    you never understood things

    which go beyond the mundane.

    Look.

    Is it possible to grow hair

    to the ground?

    You look so different.

    Just wonderful!

    The captain of rascals!

    "I, Anna Csillag, born in Moravia,

    had poor hair growth".

    I wish I had hair like that.

    Would you like some water?

    - With raspberry juice.

    - No, thanks.

    Too bad.

    Her poor hair growth

    was divine retribution.

    But prayers and penance

    took the curse off her.

    She was graced with enlightenment.

    She received signs

    and made this miraculous remedy.

    Look.

    These are her brothers,

    cousins and brothers-in-law.

    Who’s he?

    Another brother-in-law.

    She made a whole town happy.

    Really?

    "Elsa. The fluid with a swan".

    It’s a balm for all afflictions.

    It works wonders.

    Where did you get this book?

    It’s been here all the time,

    scattered around.

    "Smoke all you want".

    "Sexual Neurasthenia".

    "Gramophones".

    You silly thing.

    We use its pages to wrap meat

    and your father’s lunch.

    It’s degradation of an original book.

    You’re late.

    There’s no more juice.

    I have some rose preserve.

    It’s not bad.

    Adela!

    - Try it.

    - Thank you.

    - It’s not a preserve.

    - So what? It tastes sweet.

    Is your name Jakub?

    No, I’m Józef.

    Jakub is my father.

    I see.

    Can you come out?

    We can’t talk like this.

    - Excuse me.

    - It’s all right.

    I have a valuable delivery.

    Where can I find your father?

    I’m looking for him myself.

    Allow me to introduce

    Honduras and Nicaragua.

    Come closer.

    It’s spotted.

    That’s right.

    It’s perishable.

    - Birds of paradise?

    - Not only.

    For hatching, it’s best to let

    Belgian hens sit on them.

    Or you can do it yourself.

    I think I see your father.

    Over there!

    Don’t you think he’s behaving

    in a strange way?

    He’s demonstrating.

    Father!

    Father...

    You should beware of things

    like narrow-mindedness,

    pedantry and blind literalism.

    Have you noticed that

    in some books flocks of swallows

    are flying between the verses?

    Stanzas of swallows.

    You should learn to read

    from the flight of these birds.

    Father. I have to tell you something.

    It’s a secret.

    I found an original.

    - An original?

    - Yes.

    Look.

    It’s worthless!

    It’s a book!

    It’s just a myth.

    A book is a myth

    we believe in when we’re young.

    We stop treating it seriously

    as we get older.

    Books live a borrowed life.

    Every book has a moment

    when it soars into the air like

    a phoenix with its pages on fire!

    Look.

    We love them for that moment.

    But they turn to ashes.

    Thank you.

    Why doesn’t anybody

    offer goldfinch?

    Where?

    A book is a myth, my son.

    It soars into the air

    like a phoenix.

    Hyderabad.

    Guatemala.

    Tasmania, San Domingo.

    Sierra Leone.

    Labrador, Barbados,

    Trinidad, El Salvador,

    Borneo, Sumatra, Pernambuco.

    Hiporabundia.

    You’re talking nonsense.

    You could say Panfibras.

    Haleiwa, Abracadabra.

    Why do I get the feeling

    that I’ve been there before?

    A long time ago.

    What if we know all landscapes

    that we come across in life?

    Can anything new happen?

    Something we can’t sense?

    Do you hear me?

    I want to know if all this

    could have happened.

    Answer me.

    Did it happen or not?

    Yes and no.

    There are some things

    that can’t fully happen.

    They are too grand and magnificent

    to fit into an event.

    They just try to happen.

    Tell me if they really exist.

    She did exist.

    And nothing can

    take away my certainty.

    Don’t be afraid.

    She can’t hear us.

    It’s my dead mother,

    she lives here.

    She’s inhabited by ghosts,

    phantoms, larvae and chrysalises.

    Helpless and naive,

    she takes them into her dream

    and sleeps with them.

    She wakes up half-conscious

    at dawn and remembers nothing.

    That’s why she’s so sad.

    She has to live so many lives.

    Do you know a story

    that time cannot change?

    There is one that

    you haven’t heard.

    It belongs to the night.

    Will you find the patience

    to listen to it?

    Somebody will walk

    across the sky,

    cuddling a baby in a coat.

    Constantly on the way,

    on a endless journey.

    He’ll pass us with long steps.

    That’s what’s going to happen.

    Over and over again.

    Bianca, you can count on me!

    Till the last drop of blood!

    Well?

    It’s a riddle.

    What about her?

    She’s all grey.

    The touch of her hand must

    be beyond imagination.

    What did you see there?

    Something colourful,

    colonial terrifying.

    Abductions, pursuits, betrayals.

    It’s a story about an abducted

    and switched princess.

    You’re making it up.

    Java.

    Sumatra.

    Borneo.

    I can appoint you as coregent.

    Anonymously.

    Together with the stamp album

    we’ll form a triumvirate.

    We’ll be responsible

    for this unsolved affair.

    With the stamp album?

    What a naive question.

    It’s a universal book.

    A compendium of knowledge

    about human life containing

    allusions and understatements.

    This story will be interspersed

    with dashes, ellipses and sighs.

    It requires a bit of intelligence

    and imagination.

    Your words are delirious,

    ridiculous, insane.

    I was fond of you, Rudolf,

    because you own this album.

    Now your outbursts of

    envy put me off.

    Don’t forget that you’re

    dependent on me.

    I have to get to the other side.

    I know.

    Her father is a ship’s doctor.

    A small steam boat

    with wheels at the sides

    is waiting for her

    every night at the pier.

    It’s lights are off.

    Don’t go there.

    I have a bad feeling.

    Don’t worry. I may seem excited,

    but I have my fears.

    Won’t it be safer to look through

    the stamp album?

    You haven’t seen New Mexico.

    Remember that there

    is no final Mexico.

    Behind every Mexico

    there is a new one.

    They only seem dead.

    The don’t have to breathe

    for a longer period.

    These villains won’t be

    characters in novels.

    They’re just a makeshift creation,

    a one-time thing.

    They were caught at a moment

    when their obsession,

    their madness was real.

    Skilfully prepared, it became

    the core of their new existence.

    A new man was created

    in the image of a mannequin.

    This is anarchist Luccheni,

    assassin of Empress Elisabeth.

    And this is Draga,

    the demonic Queen of Serbia.

    Edison and Bismarck.

    "Leatherstocking".

    This is a young genius,

    the pride and hope of his family.

    Addiction to masturbation

    ruined his life.

    Unfortunately, they’re not authentic.

    But we put a lot of effort

    into making them look good.

    Their faces are pale,

    flushed from

    the illness they died of.

    Now take a look at

    Emperor Franz Joseph.

    Wrinkles on his face make him

    look like he’s smiling.

    But when you come closer,

    you see that

    his smile is just a grimace

    of bitterness and terseness.

    He had a younger brother,

    so different spiritually

    and ideologically.

    This unfortunate antagonist,

    disadvantaged by birth,

    was Archduke Maximilian.

    The emperor loved him secretly,

    but planned to get rid of him.

    He appointed him commander

    of the Levantine Ship Squadron,

    hoping that he’d go under.

    Later he signed a secret alliance

    with Napoleon III.

    That’s him.

    He used deception to involve

    Maximilian in the Mexican incident.

    This creative young man

    renounced his Habsburg title

    only to ride aboard

    the French liner "Le Cid"

    right into a trap.

    Some sources say

    he was just a cousin.

    Others that he was never born.

    He was conjectured from the fears

    and hallucinations the emperor

    experienced while sleeping.

    We had problems putting

    him back together

    after his execution in Vera Cruz.

    Unfortunately,

    he still suffers from amnesia.

    I had to teach him everything

    about his life again.

    My only success is that

    at the sound of the name

    of Emperor Franz Joseph

    he draws his sword.

    He wounded Victor Emmanuel.

    The latter didn’t manage to get out

    of his way quickly enough.

    Bianca...

    and Maximilian?

    It’s a simple mechanical trick.

    When wound up he moves

    and acts like a live person.

    A simple mechanical trick,

    my foot!

    A cynic in the tropics.

    No, a tropical cynic.

    And Rudolf said I exaggerated

    and made things up.

    They should take their medicine

    and be in bed by now.

    It’s not good to keep them

    on stands for so long.

    I can smell curare.

    Would you like to see

    my collection of weapons?

    So my intuition was right after all.

    Under the cover of law

    and order hair-rising things

    are happening here.

    Will you tell me who Bianca is?

    Her mother was a Creole.

    Archduke Maximilian called her

    lovingly Conchita.

    She went down in history under

    that name, through the back door.

    Her mother?

    You mean grandmother?

    Mother.

    After Maximilian’s downfall,

    she took her daughter to Paris.

    She lived on a widow’s pension.

    That’s where history loses track

    of our touching character.

    Allow me to finish for you.

    It’s confidential!

    Keep calm and control yourself.

    100,000 pesos.

    My business is not going well.

    It’s an expensive project.

    In 1900 a Mrs. de V,

    a woman of exotic beauty,

    leaves France and goes to Austria

    with her daughter and husband,

    having fake passports.

    They get arrested in Salzburg,

    while changing trains to Vienna.

    After checking his fake passport,

    Mr. de V is free to go.

    But he does nothing to get

    his wife and daughter released.

    That very day he goes back

    to France and is never seen again.

    I will be the one to identify him.

    150,000 pesos.

    You’re so uncompromising.

    What do you want?

    Your decisions will show

    if you’re aware of the situation.

    - I want facts!

    - Stop!

    I think Bianca’s origin

    has been confirmed.

    Negroes!

    Hordes of Negroes!

    Negroes at this time of the year?

    The barometer

    must be at its lowest point.

    Bianca?

    I thought you’d never get here.

    - Sit down.

    - No, infanta.

    I have to do duties

    which fate has assigned to me.

    I have to carry out my plan.

    Did you bring anything to read?

    Decrees. Sign them.

    "Daisy, Daisy give me your answer".

    Barrel organs everywhere!

    Real marvels of technology.

    They may come in handy.

    Things went so far that

    I got involved in the dynastic

    affairs of great monarchs.

    I think we’re in trouble.

    Let’s think about betrayal.

    - Betrayal?

    - Yes.

    - Betrayal?

    - That’s right.

    Do you have a better idea?

    I don’t understand.

    It must be a wonderful feeling.

    To penetrate the depths

    of villainy and erase oneself

    from one’s own memory.

    Wouldn’t you like to be defiled

    or repulsive for a moment?

    But totally renewed.

    Do it.

    You’ll become one of them.

    One of those black Negroes.

    Now that things are at the final

    stage you want me to betray?

    You’re ridiculous with your

    faithfulness and sense of mission!

    - What if I chose Rudolf?

    - No.

    I prefer him a thousand times

    over you, a boring pedant.

    He would be obedient.

    Even when it came to crime

    or self-destruction.

    Rudolf obedient?

    Do you remember Lonka,

    the washerwoman’s daughter?

    You played with her

    when you were a little boy.

    - Yes.

    - It was me.

    Only I was a boy at that time.

    Did you like me then?

    Bianca, I feel everything

    is going the wrong way.

    Must you disappoint me?

    May I see your tickets, please?

    Conductor...

    What is going on here?

    Take it easy. Don’t panic.

    We’ll fix everything quietly.

    We don’t need help.

    Normal facts are arranged in time.

    They are threaded on it...

    ...like onto a string.

    It’s important for

    narration and continuity.

    Fine.

    What about events

    which have no place in time?

    Events which

    have occurred too late,

    when time has been allocated?

    Is time too tight

    to take in all events?

    Time has its side offshoots,

    somewhat illegal and dubious.

    But we can’t be too fussy

    when dealing with events

    that cannot be classified.

    Who knows? Maybe all the dirty

    manipulation is behind us.

    We’re heading to a dead end.

    Exactly.

    How can I get out of here?

    Why don’t you try going

    under the bed again?

    - Excuse me, I have to go.

    - Coward!

    I hope to come back again.

    Coward!

    Stupid coward.

    It’s you.

    You don’t look well.

    Everything is mixed up, father.

    Father?

    It takes a lot of patience to find

    the right words in this confusion.

    You can do it by grammatical

    analysis of sentences and tenses.

    What? I don’t remember.

    I am, he is, she is...

    I’ve got it!

    You are, we are!

    They are...

    You need to eliminate

    flirtatious chatter of birds,

    their pointed adverbs, prepositions,

    and timid personal pronouns

    to find a healthy grain of time.

    Legend books,

    unwritten books, great epics,

    pallid and monotonous

    nameless novels,

    faceless giants,

    dark evening stories,

    cloudy dramas,

    errant and lost books.

    You must have a lot of work.

    The light on in your room

    late at night.

    Try. See if you can do it.

    Fascinating!

    What a beauty!

    Remember. Paradisea apoda

    or the bird of paradise.

    Cardinalis cardinalis!

    Chrysolophus pictus.

    Upupa epops.

    I want you to take

    something with you.

    Anything, at least a tiny bit.

    Get it into your blood,

    your life and save it.

    And live with it.

    Come in!

    Go now.

    They’re looking for you.

    I don’t want to be disturbed.

    Go.

    Go!

    Go!

    Look at you.

    You’re covered in cobwebs.

    You ripped your coat.

    You’ve been in the attic again.

    Shop assistants steal from us,

    people buy on credit only,

    and you just play around.

    Take it to the shop.

    Your father must be hungry.

    The shop!

    They’re looking for you.

    It’s hot.

    Who?

    The shop assistants,

    especially Teodor.

    I know. They’ll be climbing

    the ladder up and down.

    Up and down.

    Józef!

    I wish you

    had been born earlier.

    Come!

    Take it to them.

    It’ll scare them.

    Adela, Holofernes was a man.

    Whatever. I kept her in borsch

    to make her look better.

    I’ll buy it.

    Lay off. It’s not for sale.

    What? The head is in a shop,

    so it’s for sale.

    I’ll buy it.

    Father!

    Take it away.

    There’s no room here.

    Stop bothering me.

    I’m busy.

    Jakub! Go on, trade!

    Father!

    Wake up, Józef.

    I know you’re exhausted.

    It’s only a few steps more.

    Father, you’re ill. You should

    take care of yourself.

    Can you hear him?

    He’s coming.

    I know him since childhood.

    We went to school together.

    That egoist disgusted me.

    He devoured lots of buttered rolls.

    Go and meet him.

    He’ll think I ignore him.

    Go!

    If I’m not mistaken it’s Józef,

    Jakub’s son.

    May the sky over your heads

    always be blue,

    and the ground under

    your feet moist with dew.

    I don’t think I need to say that.

    You can hear their shop

    is as busy as a beehive.

    It’s just appearances

    and pitiful mystification.

    Mother complains

    that people buy on credit only.

    - What did he say?

    - Credit.

    - I must have misheard.

    - I could have expected it.

    - They sell on credit.

    - Enough! I don’t want to hear it.

    Why do you keep bowing?

    Turn your ear and listen

    to the words of the wise.

    Apply your heart to my teaching.

    I sold for cash.

    Help our fellow man

    as much as we can,

    but be vigilant

    we don’t fall ourselves.

    The seven years of plenty

    will come to this land.

    It was Christian Seipel and Sons,

    owners of weaving mills.

    The rich man laboured

    in gathering riches,

    and when he rests he shall

    be filled with his goods.

    The poor man laboured

    in his low way of life,

    and in the end he is still poor.

    Come.

    She doesn’t show up

    in the park anymore.

    They must be guarding her.

    They smelled danger.

    It’s nothing but humbug!

    Extraterritoriality! Mexico!

    Maximilian! Cotton plantations!

    Enough!

    Who told you that?

    The files of this secret conspiracy

    were never revealed.

    I’m the owner of

    this stamp album.

    I won’t lend it to you again

    for such purposes.

    I must admit that

    the whole thing is incredible.

    Unbelievable.

    What do you think, Rudolf?

    Who could have conceived

    such an evil idea,

    which goes beyond any fantasy?

    I’m amazed myself.

    Tittle-tattle!

    Our partnership is over!

    Suit yourself.

    I said I would prove

    that it was all true.

    - Where is Mr. de V?

    - He’s left.

    We’ll see.

    Where is the infanta?

    Her Highness has left too.

    Nobody is here.

    Right. Get out.

    Somebody must have

    betrayed me.

    Abra...

    Abra?

    Abracadabra.

    Great.

    Come on. Get up!

    Haleiwa!

    Vienna!

    Bravo!

    Mount your horses, gentlemen!

    Haleiwa!

    - What’s going on here?

    - This way, Your Highness.

    Forward!

    Gentlemen,

    I troubled you in vain.

    These people are free to go.

    Don’t harm them.

    In my blindness I wanted

    to preach the scripture,

    to interpret God’s will.

    My false belief made me

    pursue obscure clues

    and make random conclusions.

    Allow me, my friend.

    Noble gentlemen and you, infanta.

    I hand the regency to Rudolf.

    I abdicate!

    You’re free, noble gentlemen.

    Thank you in the name

    of our idea.

    Our dethroned idea, which...

    Hurry!

    Hurry!

    Father!

    Call Garibaldi.

    He’s an expert on wounds.

    Bianca.

    Get a stretcher.

    Hurry!

    What a fatal night.

    I didn’t foresee it.

    He had a noble heart after all.

    I have wronged him.

    Rudolf, you must comfort Bianca,

    love her with double love

    to replace her father.

    You want to take him with you?

    Let’s form a procession.

    Form a procession!

    One more thing, Rudolf.

    I should be the one

    to provide for the old age

    of those homeless heroes.

    Unfortunately I’m a pauper.

    - How much?

    - Ten thousand.

    - Five.

    - No.

    Twelve.

    Gentlemen! After what happened

    no wax museum will take you in.

    Competition is big.

    As you have no practical skills,

    my friend made a donation

    to purchase twelve barrel organs.

    Go around the world

    and play to make people happy.

    You can choose the music.

    Now, dear friends

    and noble gentlemen,

    let’s cheer together:

    Long live the newlyweds!

    Farewell, gentlemen.

    May what you see

    be a warning to you.

    Don’t ever try to guess

    God’s intentions.

    Ignorabimus, gentlemen.

    Ignorabimus.

    Are you Józef, Jakub’s son?

    Maybe. Yes.

    Did you dream the standard

    dream of biblical Joseph?

    Maybe.

    Well?

    Do you know that your dream

    was noticed at the highest level

    and was severely criticized?

    I’m not responsible for my dreams.

    Yes, you are.

    You are under arrest in the name

    of His Imperial and Royal Majesty.

    I’m at your disposal.

    His Imperial and Royal Majesty’s

    bureaucracy is a bit slow.

    I have surpassed that early dream

    with more serious deeds.

    I wanted to do justice

    and kill myself.

    Now that obsolete dream

    has saved my life!

    - Don’t cry.

    - I have a migraine.

    Come. We’ll make tea.

    Is Adela at home?

    Adela left to America.

    She left?

    She went by ship and it sank.

    All passengers died.

    We never heard from her again.

    What about father?

    Where is he?

    He left many times,

    but it was never final.

    It had its good points.

    This way he prepared us

    for his ultimate departure.

    Take me to him.

    All right.

    I think it’s time for you

    to see him.

    The shop is closed for good.

    Sometimes I go down there

    to sell the remnants.

    But the shutters

    are only half-open.

    He was one of those

    whose face was touched by

    the hand of God while sleeping.

    They know

    what they don’t know.

    They become speculative

    and suspicious.

    Through closed eyelids

    they see images of distant worlds.

    For man goes to his eternal home,

    while mourners go about

    in the street.

    Before the silver cord is broken,

    and the golden bowl is crushed.

    The pitcher by the well is broken,

    and the wheel at

    the cistern is crushed.

    Then the dust will return

    to the earth as it was.

    And the spirit will return

    to God who gave it.

    I’m so glad to see you, Józef.

    What a surprise.

    I feel so lonely here.

    Although I can’t complain.

    I’ve been through worse things.

    I must tell you something.

    But don’t laugh.

    I rented a place for a shop here.

    It’s nothing much.

    Back home I’d be ashamed

    to have a stall like that.

    But here we had to pull

    in our horns.

    Isn’t that right, Józef?

    Life goes on.

    I must have overwound it.

    I see you’re sleepy.

    Go back to sleep.

    You have no idea

    how hard it was to get a loan.

    People here

    don’t trust old merchants.

    Merchants with past experience.

    Do you remember the optician’s

    shop in the market square?

    Our shop is right next door.

    We don’t have a sign yet.

    But you’ll find it.

    You’re going out without your coat?

    I couldn’t find it in my trunk.

    They forgot to pack it.

    Take my coat.

    No. See you.

    Jakub! Go on, trade.

    Why don’t you sit down, father?

    You’re ill. You should

    take care of yourself.

    Stop bothering me.

    I’m busy.

    A letter came for you.

    It’s on my desk among papers.

    On my first day here

    I was served

    an excellent fillet of beef

    with mushrooms.

    It was a hell of a piece of meat.

    I have to warn you.

    If they ever want to

    serve you fillet of beef...

    Fillet of beef...

    I still feel fire in my stomach.

    I have diarrhea after diarrhea.

    It’s really tough.

    Or take, for instance,

    hunter-style roast,

    stuffed with pate with gravy.

    Here we don’t have to deny

    ourselves anything.

    We can afford

    to indulge big style.

    An angel of a boy.

    So precious.

    You must admit he’s charming.

    Got a light?

    Even schoolgirls here wear

    bows in a special manner.

    If you as much as glance at them,

    you get that sultry look...

    which fills us with desire.

    I have to see the doctor.

    He’s at the restaurant.

    I’ve just been there.

    Sorry.

    I meant the operating room.

    We’re evidently in a trap.

    Ever since I came here,

    the sanatorium personnel

    hasn’t done anything

    to provide proper care.

    We’re left to ourselves.

    I can’t get a bed,

    not to mention clean linen.

    Those secrets and discreet looks

    of yours are just a mystification.

    I feel like opening all those

    doors to expose the intrigue

    we got involved in.

    Get some sleep.

    You can hardly keep on your feet.

    Józef, Józef...

    I’ve been lying in bed here,

    left without any care.

    The wires have been cut.

    Nobody comes to see me.

    Nobody can make me

    a cup of tea.

    My own son has

    abandoned his sick father

    to chase girls in town.

    Józef, you should go

    to our shop more often.

    The shop assistants

    are stealing from us.

    Our shop will go to waste

    if nobody takes care of it.

    Look, my heart is pounding.

    My strength is leaving me.

    Józef, was there

    any mail from home?

    Doctor...

    You’re not looking well.

    Take your jacket off.

    I’ll examine you.

    Your irritation is justified.

    Your body,

    especially your nervous system

    has to adjust to new conditions.

    We were deceived by an ad.

    It wasn’t a good idea

    to send my father here.

    Moving back time!

    It sounds good.

    But what is it in fact?

    Do we get fully valuable

    and credible time here?

    No. We get time

    used up by people.

    It’s frayed and full of holes.

    It’s vomited, secondhand time!

    You may question the quality

    of your father’s existence,

    but you can see him

    and talk to him.

    You should be

    very grateful to the doctor.

    Enough! Space is for people.

    In space you can swing around,

    turn somersaults,

    jump from one star to another.

    But don’t tamper with time!

    The blame for this lies

    in fast decomposition...

    Of time.

    We all know that

    this chaotic element can be

    kept within certain bounds

    if regulated continually.

    If not, it begins to play

    all kinds of tricks.

    Isn’t that right?

    You should take better

    care of yourself.

    Wear warmer clothes.

    To start with, get some exercise.

    Later we’ll see.

    Chin up!

    It’s lucky that father

    is no longer alive.

    It won’t affect him anymore.

    |

     6 ) 《砂制时镜下的疗养院》:父亲正在死去

    原文地址:http://www.qh505.com/blog/post/7591.html

    感谢电影的字幕翻译和制作者,他们不仅对语言本身进行了一种转换,更是从布鲁诺·舒尔茨的原著小说中寻找到了阅读的线索,最后打出的字幕是对这种转换和寻找的点题:“涉及的小说包括《砂制时镜下的疗养院》《蟑螂》《退休老人》《书》《春天》《裁缝的玩偶》《盛季之夜》《死季》《父亲的最后逃亡》《鳄鱼街》《天才的时代》《父亲加入了消防队》《鸟》《圣显》……以及《圣经》。”集邮册、蜡像馆、父亲的店铺、消防员头盔、鸟类标本、奇异之书,这些电影中意象在小说原著中找到了的出处,这当然是翻译者的贡献。但是,有时候翻译也会造成迷失:对于我来说,只看过布鲁诺·舒尔茨的《鳄鱼街》,阅读是有限的,在电影涉及的小说文本形成的繁复网络中,迷失是必然的,这是一重迷失,而当翻译者从布鲁诺的小说中找寻到解读这部电影的可能线索,是不是又制造了另一种迷失?

    小说是小说,电影是电影,小说和电影不同的作者本就是属于各自的文本,或者说,不同的文本属于各自创造它的作者,所以从纯粹的意义上来讲,这就是属于沃依切赫·哈斯创造的唯一文本,关于这样一种文本学在电影中也有了阐述,父亲在小镇的大街上参与了一场示威游行,当身为儿子的约瑟夫找到了父亲,他正在和大家说起书中的故事,而书就是关于鸟类的,“书的生命只是借来的,所有的画面最后都将燃烧起来,发出光芒……”书是借来的书,电影就是从小说中借来情节和人物,但是它最终需要用自己的方式燃烧起来,当它发出光芒,便是自己的书,自己的文本,自己的电影——果然,示威游行中人们戴着鸟类的各种面具,最后书上的那只鸟发出了光芒,父亲雅各说,这是世界上最漂亮的鸟,它是极乐鸟、天堂鸟——从鸟类标本的书,到变成复活的极乐鸟,这便是文本在“借来”中完成的重生。

    回到沃依切赫的电影文本,回到哈斯的隐喻系统,一本书如何在借来中发光,一只鸟如何在燃烧中复活,那就是对电影片名的解读:砂制时镜下的疗养院的疗养院,又翻译成“沙漏”,这也是布鲁诺·舒尔茨的一部同名小说,在这里,“沙漏”无疑象征着时间的流逝和重生,当沙漏中的沙慢慢减少,就是时间的流逝,但是把沙漏倒过来,世间仿佛开始了新的循环。所以这是一个关于时间母题的电影,约瑟夫从列车中下来,找到了父亲所在的疗养院,在倾圮成废墟的疗养院里,他找到了躺在床上的父亲,他问医生:父亲是不是还活着?医生说:“当然,在某种局限的范围内,从家里的角度来说,他已经去世,但是如果我们把时间往回拨,在这里你的父亲还没有死……”在家乡“常规”时间里,父亲已经死去,在疗养院往回拨的时间里,父亲当然还活着,所以往回拨产生了两种时间,“这里的时间和现实之间有某种间隔,这是相对论,我们恢复了过去的时间,恢复了它所有的可能性,包括康复的可能性,这样才能储备生命力。”时间往回,就是回到没有死去的状态中,这种对时间的实验具有的意义,并不是简单地从死亡到活着,而是在相对论中探寻生命的可能性,这是对死亡本身的消弭,这是对现实困境的消解,而这一文本实验,按照约瑟夫的理解,便是:“父亲正在死亡。”一种进行时态,它不是死亡的完成,而是从活着到死亡的过程,在这个过程里,探寻可能性就具有了意义。

    “父亲正在死亡”,这是沃依切赫·哈斯对文本的最关键命名,它凸显的线索其实集中在两个关键词:父亲和死亡,连接这两个关键词的便是“正在”的时间状态。时间如何往回拨?时间如何呈现出相对论?时间如何产生可能性?仅仅在时间的维度来说,约瑟夫进入疗养院就是进入到了“父亲正在死去”的时间系统中,他从列车上下来,来到疗养院,找到护士和医生,在“这里从来没有黑夜”的疗养院里发现父亲,构成了一种时间,它也构成了哈斯镜头下的“现实时间”,但是当约瑟夫从父亲病房的窗户往外看,看见两条狗在狂吠,看见雪地里的鲁道夫,最后看见自己拎着包来到疗养院,便构成了相对论的时间:和此时在病房里看见这一切发生的自己一样,约瑟夫也是拿着行李,也是从台阶上上来,也是看到了黑色的铁门,所有的过程如出一辙,但是和第一个自己不同的是,黑色铁门打开了,是穿着海军衫的鲁道夫为他打开的,当门打开,他看见了另一个世界,于是他走了进去,开始了属于自己的时间旅程。

    自己看见自己,自己看见了不一样的自己,时间就是在这种自我分化中走向了不同的方向——只是沃依切赫·哈斯在经历了世间的分叉之后,最后并没有将两个约瑟夫合二为一,缺少了首尾呼应。但是这里的指向是明确的,一个约瑟夫在父亲身边,也在现实时间里,另一个约瑟夫进入到了往回拨的可能性时间里。时间的分化就是为了见证“父亲正在死去”,所以时间作为本体,哈斯阐述了现实之外的可能性,他回到了家里,看见了母亲,他回到了镇里,来到了父亲的店铺,他遇到了妓女阿德拉,当然为他打开黑色大门的鲁道夫也在其中,当看见了鲁道夫手中的集邮册,他感慨:“我好像有一种去过那里的感觉,难道事物不是全新的存在?”在时间的改变中,似曾相识变成了一种普遍的状态,从这种似曾相识的感觉中找到全新的存在,这就是可能性。而可能性也意味着全新的东西没有属于自己的位置,在小镇的游行结束后,约瑟夫看见了一队人从身旁经过,他们抬着的轿子里坐着的正是那个双目浑浊、胸前挂着灯盏的列车长,于是列车长告诉他:“有些事情永远无法发生,它太过宏大和美好,无法挤入事实的空间,它们只是试图发生……”可能性意味着新事物的存在,也意味着试图发生却最终没有发生。而在约瑟夫遇到碧样卡,扔掉了手上的那些旧海报,列车长再次出现,约瑟夫的疑问是:“如何处置在时间中没有位置的事件,它们抵达时所有事件已经被分割了。”时间中没有该发生事件的位置,就像扔掉的那些海报和新闻中的事件,列车长再次阐释了可能性的意义,“列车所载的是走私客和那些无法归类的多余事件,它行驶在不通往任何轨道的路上……”

    时间就如那趟列车,在这里有似曾相识的记忆,也有应该发生而没有发生的事件,有试图发生而湮灭的故事,所以在现实时间里它们没有真正属于自己的位置,它们被排除在时间之外,按照列车长的说法,它们就是走私客的时间,它们就是无法归类的事件,虽然宏大和美好,但是永远无法发生。列车长解释了不同的时间,但是列车长阐述了可能性,胸前挂着的那盏灯,就像是对于时间探寻的光芒,而它自己也在约瑟夫的时间之旅中成为了“引导者”,所以正是可能性,正是走私客和多余事件,约瑟夫的进入就是对时间意义的一次发现,“我要的是真相”成为他的目标:真相就在没有位置的时间里,真相就是走私客的多余事件,真相就是试图发生的故事——它在“父亲正在死去”中也成为了对父亲死亡真相的探寻。

    父亲的店铺,父亲的犹太人身份,父亲店铺里的客人,父亲店铺店员偷走了东西,当然还有父亲身边的鸟类标本,父亲和女人的淫乐,都构成了和父亲有关的时间,而在这样的时间里,约瑟夫也成为了母亲眼中的小孩,“你那么贪玩,去你父亲的店里看看。”这也成为约瑟夫找到父亲之死的原因,“这里没有人照顾我,他们都丢下了我……”这是孤独的父亲,这是怪异的父亲,这是淫乐的父亲,这是最后死亡的父亲,那些漂亮的鸟终于长出了蛆虫,父亲说:“我的力量正在消失。”于是在经历了父亲正在死去的时间之后,父亲走向了死亡,而约瑟夫完整构筑了父亲死之前的历史,父亲的秘密是“多余的事件”,父亲的故事不再被书写的位置上,它在种种可能性中走向了必然性。

    时间的旅程构成的是历史,现实里的这部历史是公开的,而不在位置上的文本则是隐秘的,可能性就是在历史文本之外展开隐秘的文本——这就是父亲所说那本“书”的意义,它的真相是要在自己的文本里燃烧。如果说时间构筑的文本,对于个体来说是隐秘的故事,那么对于群体来说,就是历史,这是“父亲正在死去”的第二重意义,当历史成为和群体有关,父亲也必然是在父姓意义上的,它甚至就是和国家有关的集体记忆。鲁道夫手中有一本集邮册,邮票来自世界各地,“集邮册是一本环宇之书”,这是第二个文本,它指向的是世界,约瑟夫首先从碧样卡的身份中知道了一种历史,她是被替换的公主,公主、大海、墨西哥,就构成了“父亲”在国家意义上的隐喻。约瑟夫走进那个蜡像馆,就是走进充满了争斗的历史,那里有黑人土著,有殖民者,有斗争和死亡,而那些已成为蜡像的人都是历史有关的人物:他们是可怕的皇后,是刺杀皇后的无政府主义者,是自甘堕落的年轻人,是海上冒险的上校,是墨西哥混战中的中弹者……

    历史是海外拓展史,是殖民地反抗史,是宫廷政变史,是革命史,而进入这些历史中的约瑟夫,也在可能性中也让自己成为了历史中的人物,他发动了政变,他拥有了权力,他指挥了军队,最后他让在斗争中失去了父亲的碧样卡乘船离开,他让鲁道夫拥有权力,他让所有人都自由。但是,这只是可能性的历史,这只是历史中的“多余事件”,这只是试图发生的故事,拥有也意味着失去,那些人偶并非是历史舞台中的胜利者,他们只是历史中的“机械把戏”,最后约瑟夫自己也成为了“机械把戏”的一员,军官告诉他,因为做了一个梦,他被捕了,约瑟夫高喊着:“这是官僚制度!”宫廷政变、冒名顶替、征服和殖民、自由和权力、官僚制度,这些事件构成的历史,和民族有关,和国家有关——当然它明确地指向了关于波兰的命运。

    个体的父亲,国家意义上的父亲,两重历史文本之外,哈斯着重探讨的其实是第三重文本——字幕组列出的最后一个文本是《圣经》,它不属于布鲁诺·舒尔茨的小说,但是在哈斯的体系中成为最重要的文本。父亲名叫雅各,自己叫约瑟夫,父亲店铺里犹太人的仪式,那把往上的梯子,都具有极强的宗教性指向,而在电影中,这些宗教意象所构筑的文本无疑成为了关于信仰、关于灵魂的探索史。当约瑟夫喊着“我想要知道真相”的时候,他就是要进入人类的灵魂世界,而向外的现实世界提供的就是如疗养院一样的病态存在。他在母亲面前质问的就是:“关于父亲去世的消息,是谁散布的?”父亲正在死去变成了父亲已经死去,所以在他看来,这就是一种谎言,而母亲的回答是:“我一个人怎么对付洪水?”末日般的生活,也许只有通过谎言来逃避心灵的折磨;街上都是那些海报,约瑟夫发问:“神圣的书就这样堕落了?”阿德拉毫无顾忌地脱去了衣服,碧样卡在床上让他“片刻的沉沦”,父亲雅各和女人们在一起,还有店铺里店员的偷盗行为,还有那些机械把戏中的利益争斗,这是一个堕落的世界,这是一个淫乐的世界,这是一个背叛的世界,死亡变成了必然,它的可能性已经毫无意义,这才是“父亲正在死去”构筑的进行时态。

    个体的记忆之书、群体的历史之书和灵魂正在死去的堕落之书,构成了时间往回拨的三重文本,对于可能性的书写,对于多余事件的再现,对于时间位置的重置,都是对真相的探寻,列车长作为引路者也指出,“时间能维持秩序,就在于有人不断管理它,纠正它的异常行为。”但是在可能性折射的背叛、堕落、虚无世界里,时间又将如何管理?哈斯似乎无意于这种重建,因为按照约瑟夫的理解,即使时间被拨回去了,即使非现实时间里有了可能性,即使隐秘的故事里发现了真相,也不再是真实的时间,“这些都是二手时间。”二手时间指向的是虚无,甚至更是一个悖论,当约瑟夫背上列车长的那盏灯,他也变成了引导员,那盏灯照亮自己的路,但是他的双眼却变得浑浊,无法看清真正的路,又要心灵的那盏灯何用?

    而这便是约瑟夫“自指”产生的悖论:他走进养老院,他看见自己走进养老院,自己成为自己的观者,自己成为自己的书写者,他进入时间,他揭秘真相,他参与历史,他见证堕落,在自指的世界里,他也成为时间的一部分,他也无法逃离死亡,就像失明而拥有灯盏一样,自指带来的悖论性就是一种宿命:或者他就是鲁道夫,他也是父亲,他在重生,他也在死去——电影一开始的那列前往疗养院的列车,就是一列死亡列车,约瑟夫在其中,就是“正在死去”,而电影最后,已经变成列车员的他走出了疗养院,向上、向前,底下是深渊,背后是燃烧的蜡烛,这是死亡的场景,约瑟夫已经死去。从正在死去到已经死去,哈斯用124分钟的时间构建了关于死亡的文本,进口是出口,父亲是儿子,现实是真相,那么,在永远无法逃离的自指悖论中,不管是个体还是国家,不管是历史还是信仰,活着也永远是一种死去的宿命。

     短评

    截止当下,本人看过的最诡异、怪诞、奇幻的电影,没有之一。电影从不合常规的列车车窗外的枯树杈开始,男主角下车经过乱葬岗步入所谓医院的城堡,结满蜘蛛网的餐桌,凌乱摆设与父亲、母亲、幼时偷窥的妓女、恋人……蜡像馆、父亲的病房、父亲的布店……毫无逻辑,场景如同梦境版切换……是场梦?还是临终前回光返照式的人生回溯?值得一提的是这部波兰电影拍摄于1973年,编导的想象力实在丰富,但是这部肯定不能获得大多数人的青睐。

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  • 说因为疗养院是影射走下坡的波兰政府,1973年其实不被允许选送戛纳,是偷偷“走私”到了法国然后拿下的评审团奖。Has刻意用三个不同颜色滤镜来拍三条时间线,勾兑编织在地狱灵界似的疗养院里,处处诡异影射二战法西斯对波兰犹太人的迫害屠杀。时间不是直线,而以螺旋状循环轮回在两个平行世界。很妙。

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