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.
透露着纯真柔软的情欲和爱还是很打动人的，像初生的孩童不断沉入海里。剩下的，交给贫穷和时代的叹息。
活着才是侥幸，死亡才是必然。文艺青年总是无法和礼崩乐坏的时代共存，离去或许是最佳选择。相爱之人隔着玻璃吻别，但最终无法再次遇见意难平
前半个小时各种长镜头+插入1930柏林黑白纪录片+Cabaret里的场景调度和分屏 真的是精彩到起飞 之后瞬间沦为了德国的情深深雨濛濛 这也是受小说本身限制吧 不过Labube这个角色真的太棒 演出了喜剧和悲剧的并存人生 抹去了德国人严肃古板的刻板印象 谁说德国人没有幽默？ 开头Cabaret那场戏真的太棒了 场景调度精确到起飞 混而不乱 把二战前柏林的躁动不安 心慌彷徨表现地淋漓精致 如果柏林现在的Cabaret还是这样SLAY 马上连夜抬床柏林 一起纸醉金迷 夜夜笙歌 烟雾缭绕 醉生梦死 然后三天不洗澡 四天不漱口 往台上扔酒瓶 在厕所打脏炮 直至精尽人亡 灰飞烟灭😂
法比安想过要和他的朋友一样盲目的生活下去，但这让他很绝望。莱辛在他的哲学中高呼恐惧和仇恨的声音不能再高过精神和心灵的，人的尊严时代即将到来。人文主义理想与堕落腐化的生活交媾，战争逼着人们向自己的心灵开枪，结果也只不过是法比安溺死时，露台上那个男人的声音:“一条鱼淹死了。”
一不小心可能会被犹太人，又或者，一不小心就是坐在桌上讨论如何处置犹太人的人
喝醉了的摄像师喝醉了的导演，旁白还换了好几个，8.5分？怎么看下去的，就因为开头有激情戏吗？
是惊喜之作，文学完整度很高，还是讲述纳粹上台前几年的德国混乱社会，处在漩涡中的柏林青年们躲进迷醉和狂乱。好喜欢文学青年法比安，他坚守着善意清醒地堕落，手记被焚烧也不能抹去这个生命的存在。ps好爱女主出场时的黑色裙子和帽子，我要买同款！
电影后劲儿特别大…酒吧混乱的相遇，朋友豪宅的狂欢，粘腻潮湿的爱恋，纯朴有冲劲儿的年轻人，纠结迷惘的女孩儿，一切都让人喜欢
从来没有看完一部电影让我产生无比生理心理不适。恐怖片跟这相比算得上成人童话了。官僚体制会议流程程序至上一切都那么熟悉，就像我们平时开的一次次会议，竟然决定了六百多万人的生死。太恐怖了，太恐怖了，太恐怖了，每个人都没有错每个人都是做自己的工作，那到底是谁的错！是这个体制的错吗？是集权体制的错！是平庸的恶的错！
什么样的国家才会让几个十几个人决定几百乃至几千万人的生死。
太吃男主的颜了
“一个当代高学历社畜的消亡史”（到最后，还在期待一个比较美好的结局，大概是有点社畜惜社畜吧～
以为会是像乔乔兔那样得故事，但人物塑造、剧情和冲突都超出预期，主人公去世后，他的文字也被烧毁，整个人都被彻底抹去了
前三十分钟手持镜头的快速蒙太奇，之后的两个多小时开始正常叙事，很长，但我看得很耐心，猜到结局但我仍然很喜欢。
最后法比安跳水救人时手里还拿着烟
没有半点血腥
德国是不是演员不多？？这次希林跟小姨又合作了，无主之作就觉得小姨很美美美美
怎么看都不像这个时代的片子，导演是从任何一个角度来陈述一段发生在上个世纪的故事。人生之不如意十有八九，不肯向命运低头的人们，常常发现自己的执着，到最后一无所有。
激赞，不落窠臼的剧本, “迫真”对镜头语言, 将弥漫着的愁塑造得如此深度实为难得。
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