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.
剧透：其实地产大亨的婚生子才是外表呆萌内心黑化，大亨想要妥善安置情妇和私生子。婚生子找到黑警做掉了情妇，私生子被女主救走。呆呆事发后连自我了结的勇气都没有，埋头在妈妈怀里痛哭。
终于不用在金刚狼的记忆里唱Never Enough了。
影片真心不太行，角色全员降智，动机成迷，一直在靠着演员支撑。故事有个非常大的背景，但完全真沦为了背景板，海洋侵入陆地，官商与民众的关系，这些内容基本上都在给男女主的爱情让路，最后的缉凶也毫无亮点。影片还给了个高概念，通过仪器达到五感的记忆回溯，原本以为影片会像《少数派报告》一样，通过记忆中的层层细节，不断的推导出事实真相，结果只是通过不断看别人记忆，以双线叙事方式交代女主过往，悬疑度和解谜快感全无，也特别不能理解，为何男主看了女主一眼就能爱得死去活来，对身边那么好的女助手视而不见。男主的行为也特别不能理解，明知危险，还经常去送人头，要靠女助手救，反派也要绕那么一大圈偷东西，好尴尬啊。最后那场被修改的俄尔普斯神话，点明了主题，这就是一场得不到的爱情。另，吴彦祖太客串了，去掉这条线也不影响故事。
1.故事本身不错，但是剧本平庸，文戏过多，拖沓冗长，节奏扁平，亮点太少。2.背景音乐和部分海景画面不错。3.吴彦祖几句话承包我一年笑点。而我居然在吴彦祖年华老去的时候才开始发现他的帅。4.不跳戏是很难的，狼叔每次从水缸里出来我都在想念他的钢爪。5. 不客观的五星全部献给这个分分钟把我掰弯的绝世美人，以及这个我爱了二十年的男人。
又莫名其妙的引出贩毒的吴彦祖，一脸凶残样三下五除二被解决了。其实有啥关系啊，就是为了凑时间。
我觉得还可以啊，一个很温暖的故事。对未来世界的构架也蛮有意思的。
看到一半睡着了，估计是我太累了！但是节奏真的慢，末世的设定不是很有说服力！吴彦祖的英中夹杂真心听不来，什么奇怪设定！然后那么容易被干掉，还kingpin？ 其他的倒没有啥大毛病！女主的颜有时候觉得很美，有时候又soso，倒是狼叔的磁性voice真适合用来催眠！
【第一感觉打分】休叔个人ASMR秀，不过有点太刻意，加那几段旁白，不知道的还以为是啥广告，还有卖肉嫌疑。总体来说作品徒有其表吧，男女主的情感，正反派的对抗一点不扎实，最后大背景还弄了个反抗权富。动作戏水平也不高。阿祖那段挺搞笑的，明明是个黑老大，但是啥也没干就领盒饭了。两星半。
尤丽狄斯终究回荡在梦池之中 夜莺稀碎的记忆是无可取代的孤本
负分滚粗，毫无逻辑漏洞百出，主角自恋自负玛丽苏气爆表，扭蛋再次证明中英文夹杂死的快
不过俗套的为情不渝结尾依然打动人心
吴彦祖：poor龟孙子，coming to my家，looking for my妞。狼叔：我脑子被记忆溶液泡浮囊了。RF：我是悬疑片男主最爱的谜样二维女子。Thandie Newton：青梅输给了天降。伴随着影院里此起彼伏的笑声，我失去了人生中的两个小时。
本以为是黑色电影，科幻悬疑下却是意外的纯爱戏码。
所以，吴彦祖为啥死了？！对推动剧情有帮助吗？
冲着狼叔和两位碟女郎（丽贝卡·弗格森和坦迪·牛顿）的面子，本片还是值得一看的。不过狼叔确实显老了，这个年纪演搂搂抱抱的浪漫爱情戏确实不是那么养眼好看。阿祖在片中饰演了一个反派小boss，戏份不多，而且很快领了便当。不过他这个形象，包括化妆、造型，甚至中英混杂的对白，我感觉有点辱华嫌疑。
打着科幻的口号和外衣 却是很纯的爱情片 犯罪和悬疑元素也只限于滤镜 倒不如更多的内心爱情戏表示纯爱更合理一些 不然实在太浪费卡斯的表演 最后的结局也属于硬套这个科幻题材 反派的动机和心理都有些考验智商下线 逻辑始终是此类电影越不过的鸿沟
Daniel Wu的gangster菜的抠脚竟给一小女人团灭，，服了
就看看男主女主谈恋爱的，剧情根本就毫无意义
在宏大的故事背景下扯些情情爱爱，格局也太小了
saint joe 圣祖。金刚狼也只能接盘阿祖。
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