Voice 1 (male "professional announcer" type): This neighborhood(1) was made for the wretched dignity of the petty bourgeoisie, for respectable occupations and intellectual tourism. The sedentary population of the upper floors was sheltered from the influences of the street. This neighborhood has remained the same. It was the strange setting of our story, where a systematic questioning of all the diversions and works of a society, a total critique of its idea of happiness, was expressed in acts.
These people also scorned "subjective profundity". They were interested in nothing but an adequate and concrete expression of themselves.
Voice 2 (Debord, monotone): Human beings are not fully conscious of their real life - usually groping in the dark; overwhelmed by the consequences of their acts; at every moment groups and individuals find themselves confronted with results they have not wished.
Voice 1: They said that oblivion was their ruling passion. They wanted to reinvent everything each day; to become the masters and possessors of their own lives.
Just as one does not judge a man according to the conception he has of himself, one cannot judge such periods of transition according to their own consciousness; on the contrary, one must explain the consciousness through the contradictions of material life, through the conflict between social conditions and the forces of social production.
The progress achieved in the domination of nature was not yet matched by a corresponding liberation of everyday life. Youth passed away among the various controls of resignation.
Our camera has captured for you a few aspects of a provisional microsociety.
The knowledge of empirical facts remains abstract and superficial as long as it is not concretized by its integration into the whole "” which alone permits the supersession of partial and abstract problems so as to arrive at their concrete essence, and implicitly at their meaning.
This group was on the margins of the economy. It tended toward a role of pure consumption, and first of all the free consumption of its time. It thus found itself directly engaged in qualitative variations of everyday life but deprived of any means to intervene in them.
The group ranged over a very small area. The same times brought them back to the same places. No one went to bed early. Discussion on the meaning of all this continued...
Voice 2: "Our life is a journey "” In the winter and the night. "” We seek our passage..."�
Voice 1: The abandoned literature nevertheless exerted a delaying action on new affective formulations.
Voice 2: There was the fatigue and the cold of the morning in this much-traversed labyrinth, like an enigma that we had to resolve. It was a looking-glass reality through which we had to discover the potential richness of reality.
On the bank of the river evening began once again; and caresses; and the importance of a world without importance. Just as the eyes have a blurred vision of many things and can see only one clearly, so the will can strive only incompletely toward diverse objects and can completely love only one at a time.
Voice 3 (young girl): No one counted on the future. It would never be possible to be together later, or anywhere else. There would never be a greater freedom.
Voice 1: The refusal of time and of growing old automatically limited encounters in this narrow, contingent zone, where what was lacking was felt as irreparable. The extreme precariousness of the means of getting by without working was at the root of this impatience which made excesses necessary and breaks definitive.
Voice 2: One never really contests an organization of existence without contesting all of that organization's forms of language.
Voice 1: When freedom is practiced in a closed circle, it fades into a dream, becomes a mere representation of itself. The ambiance of play is by nature unstable. At any moment "ordinary life"� can prevail once again. The geographical limitation of play is even more striking than its temporal limitation. Any game takes place within the contours of its spatial domain. Around the neighborhood, around its fleeting and threatened immobility, stretched a half-known city where people met only by chance, losing their way forever.
The girls who found their way there, because they were legally under the control of their families until the age of eighteen, were often recaptured by the defenders of that detestable institution. They were generally confined under the guard of those creatures who among all the bad products of a bad society are the most ugly and repugnant: nuns.
What usually makes documentaries so easy to understand is the arbitrary limitation of their subject matter. They describe the atomization of social functions and the isolation of their products. One can, in contrast, envisage the entire complexity of a moment which is not resolved into a work, a moment whose movement indissolubly contains facts and values and whose meaning does not yet appear. The subject matter of the documentary would then be this confused totality.
Voice 2: The era had arrived at a level of knowledge and technical means that made possible, and increasingly necessary, a direct construction of all aspects of a liberated affective and practical existence. The appearance of these superior means of action, still unused because of the delays in the project of liquidating the commodity economy, had already condemned aesthetic activity, whose ambitions and powers were both outdated. The decay of art and of all the values of former mores had formed our sociological background. The ruling class's monopoly over the instruments we needed to control in order to realize the collective art of our time had excluded us from a cultural production officially devoted to illustrating and repeating the past. An art film on this generation can only be a film on its absence of real creations.
Everyone unthinkingly followed the paths learned once and for all, to their work and their home, to their predictable future. For them duty had already become a habit, and habit a duty. They did not see the deficiency of their city. They thought the deficiency of their life was natural. We wanted to break out of this conditioning, in quest of another use of the urban landscape, in quest of new passions. The atmosphere of a few places gave us intimations of the future powers of an architecture it would be necessary to create to be the support and framework for less mediocre games. We could expect nothing of anything we had not ourselves altered. The urban environment proclaimed the orders and tastes of the ruling society just as violently as the newspapers. It is man who makes the unity of the world, but man has extended himself everywhere. People can see nothing around them that is not their own image; everything speaks to them of themselves. Their very landscape is alive. There were obstacles everywhere. There was a cohesion in the obstacles of all types. They maintained the coherent reign of poverty. Everything being connected, it was necessary to change everything by a unitary struggle, or nothing. It was necessary to link up with the masses, but we were surrounded by sleep.
Voice 3: The dictatorship of the proletariat is a desperate struggle, bloody and bloodless, violent and peaceful, military and economic, educational and administrative, against the forces and traditions of the old world.
Voice 1: In this country it is once again the men of order who have rebelled. They have reinforced their power. They have been able to aggravate the grotesqueness of the ruling conditions according to their will. They have embellished their system with the funereal ceremonies of the past.
Voice 2: Years, like a single instant prolonged to this point, come to an end.
Voice 1: What was directly lived reappears frozen in the distance, fit into the tastes and illusions of an era, carried away with it.
Voice 2: The appearance of events that we have not made, that others have made against us, now obliges us to be aware of the passage of time, its results, the transformation of our own desires into events. What differentiates the past from the present is precisely its out-of-reach objectivity; there is no more should-be; being is so consumed that it has ceased to exist. The details are already lost in the dust of time. Who was afraid of life, afraid of the night, afraid of being taken, afraid of being kept?
Voice 3: What should be abolished continues, and we continue to wear away with it. We are engulfed. We are separated. The years pass and we haven't changed anything.
Voice 2: Once again morning in the same streets. Once again the fatigue of so many similarly passed nights. It is a walk that has lasted a long time.
Voice 1: Really hard to drink more.
Voice 2: Of course one might make a film of it. But even if such a film succeeds in being as fundamentally disconnected and unsatisfying as the reality it deals with, it will never be more than a re-creation "” poor and false like this botched traveling shot.
Voice 3: There are now people who pride themselves on being authors of films, as others were authors of novels. They are even more backward than the novelists because they are unaware of the decomposition and exhaustion of individual expression in our time, ignorant of the end of the arts of passivity. They are praised for their sincerity since they dramatize, with more personal depth, the conventions of which their life consists. There is talk of the liberation of the cinema. But what does it matter to us if one more art is liberated through which Tom, Dick or Harry can joyously express their slavish sentiments? The only interesting venture is the liberation of everyday life, not only in the perspectives of history but for us and right away. This entails the withering away of alienated forms of communication. The cinema, too, has to be destroyed.
Voice 2: In the final analysis, stars are created by the need we have for them, and not by their talent or lack of talent or even by the film industry or advertising. Miserable need, dismal, anonymous life that would like to expand itself to the dimensions of cinema life. The imaginary life on the screen is the product of this real need. The star is the projection of this need.
The images of the advertisements during the intermissions are more suited than any others for evoking an intermission of life.
To really describe this era it would no doubt be necessary to show many other things. But what would be the point?
Better to grasp the totality of what has been done and what remains to be done than to add more ruins to the old world of the spectacle and of memories.
1. This film, which evokes the lettrist experiences at the origin of the situationist movement, opens with shots of the Paris district frequented by the lettrists in the early 1950s.
表面完美，内在压抑的病态家庭，孵化出的凶残鸟儿倒是和他们很般配。
我炒，是我看过【新世界】后，唯一让我震撼的黑帮电影，绝对6.7分低得太多了
影视中的绝美佳肴——韩国黑帮
没有看到黑帮史诗气质，对于被迫成为老大描写的比较深入。反正不管中间如何风光，如何霸气，入黑帮最后结局都是死路一条！
2022不可多得的好恐怖片
我这样的人只有二种结局，一种是走向深渊，一种是成为王者，最终呈现的景象都一样，眼前一片荒凉。。。
被蝙蝠咬了不变成蝙蝠侠这是我所不能接受的。
和香港黑帮电影相比，这部电影缺少一点兄弟情义，多了一点英雄主义，缺少一点帮派单纯火拼的恩怨情仇，多了一点尔虞我诈。
自己神操作点错资源下载，看了十几分钟才发现在看恐怖片，受国内恐怖片的摧残，误会这只"鸟"是小女孩的幻想，最终走向经神病系列结局，事实并不是...
三星吧，勉强能看，毕竟最近也确实没啥能看的了，剧情过于寡淡了，人物角色也都没立起来，大场面也没有，看到最后甚至有种强行潦草收尾的感觉。
热血已去，只剩尔虞我诈，要么堕落下去，要么登封称王
一个小破岛上的黑道，每个人身上都闪耀着人性的光辉，他们玩阳谋，打明牌，整日眼含热泪，一往情深地相互杀戮。他们彼此都认识，经常能坐在一起喝小酒，互诉衷肠。更为搞笑的是，一个无勇无谋却有情有义的混混，被人耍得团团转，差点丢了命，却被双方视作人才争相引进，似乎能无条件得到任何人的信任，且每个人临终交代都要提到他。他最后坐上小破岛老大的位子，还要感慨高处不胜寒……韩国人是这样理解“热血”的，这部就算了，以后还是别拍黑道片了吧。
非常棒！恐怖和心理的分量恰到好处，结合的也恰到好处，女孩无助的绝望贯穿始终，不知为什么，看的时候心里一直有一种冲动，希望鸟把除女主外的所有人全部吃掉
完美生活的假象与少女成长的痛苦与好奇，虽然有点不太贴合但还是缝合起来了。只不过孵化这个意向的指代太过明显，简直不能算是隐喻。在这个立意下丧失了恐怖趣味或悬疑元素，观众仿佛也是在配合一场演出。
90分钟，被侮辱了我智商90分钟！给两星，一星给小姑娘，一星给木匠的背带裤。
尽情 破碎吧！
一个什么都不管的父亲（即使妻子出轨也选择看不见），一个爱分享并放荡且对自己女儿严要求的母亲，一个快要成熟的女儿，一个小混蛋的儿子，组成了这个无法形容的家庭。
剧情丰富，起承转合。时长较长，中间剧情稍有些平，可能是为了铺垫。
怪不得评分这么低，真心的不好看，一个女孩把乌鸦蛋放到自己被窝，孵化，出来一个怪物，怪物最后变成女孩自己，女孩却死了，乱七八糟，谈不上恐怖，只是恶心。
昨晚因为看到瓦列留·布特勒斯库的格言 “燕子，逢秋日远去。乌鸦，却留守原地，不忘初衷。”便查询乌鸦的百科。昨天之前就刷过这部电影，却一直没有点进去看。像是冥冥之中，皆有定数。电影看完并不恐怖，恐怖的是家长强加给子女的期盼。电影很平淡，小演员一饰两角，剧荒可以看看
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