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Posted on 2008-05-01 by

Posted in 92383 | 1 Comment | 编辑

Posted on 2008-03-04 by

一个小型的代理服务器
配置不全文贴了
下面是原文地址

viewthread.php?tid=291194

也可以查看《开源》电子杂志第二期，里面也有详细的配置介绍

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Posted on 2008-02-20 by

[斯坦利·库布里克：电影人生].Stanley.Kubrick.A.Life.in.Pictures
下了很长时间，终于下完了，看完了
在豆瓣又看到一篇介绍的国外影评
地址amk/doc/0096.html
（在豆瓣有个网友大致的翻译review/1162422/）
在A.Life.in.Pictures结尾，Stanley.Kubrick的妻子转述了这么一句对话：
people：how are doing ，Stanley？
Stanley：I'am still fooling them.
人们试图通过各种方式和途径解读Stanley.Kubrick的电影，或者正如他自己所说“I'am still fooling them”。

原文如下：

Introducing Sociology
A Review of Eyes Wide Shut

by Tim Kreider

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
?000 by the Regents of the University of California. Reprinted from "Film Quarterly" Vol. 53, no. 3, by permission of the University of California Press.
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"So... do you... do you suppose we should... talk about money?"
-Dr. William ("Bill") Harford

Critical disappointment with Eyes Wide Shut was almost unanimous, and the complaint was always the same: not sexy. The national reviewers sounded like a bunch of middle-school kids who'd snuck in to see it and slunk out three hours later feeling horny, frustrated, and ripped off. Kubrick was old and out of touch with today's jaded sensibilities, they said. The film's sexual mores and taboos, transplanted straight out of Arthur Schnitzler's fin-de-siecle Vienna--jealousy over dreams and fantasies, guilt-ridden visits to prostitutes, a strained discussion of an HIV test that echoes the old social terror of syphilis--seemed quaint and naive by the standards of the sordid year 1999. One last time Stanley Kubrick had flouted genre expectations, and once again, as throughout his career, critics could only see what wasn't there.
The backlash against the film is now generally blamed on its cynical, miscalculated ad campaign. But why anyone who'd seen Kubrick's previous films believed the hype and actually expected it to be what Entertainment Weekly breathlessly anticipated as "the sexiest movie ever," is still not clear. The most erotic scenes he ever filmed were the bomber refueling in Dr. Strangelove and the spaceliner docking in 2001. He mocks any prurient suspense in the very fist shot of this movie; without prelude, Nicole Kidman, her back to the camera, shrugs off her dress and kicks it aside, standing matter-of-factly bare-assed before us for a moment before the screen goes black like a peepshow door sliding shut. (You can almost hear the director's Bronx-accented voice: "You came to see a big-time movie star get naked? Here ya go. All right, show's over. Can we get serious now?) The main title then appears like a rebuke, telling us that we're not really seeing what we're staring at. In other words, Eyes Wide Shut is not going to be about sex.

The real pornography in this film is in its lingering depiction of the shameless, naked wealth of millennial Manhattan, and of its obscene effect on society and the human soul. National reviewers' myopic focus on sex, and the shallow psychologies of the film's central couple, the Harfords, at the expense of every other element of the film-the trappings of stupendous wealth, its references to fin-de-siecle Europe and other imperial periods, its Christmastime setting, even the sum Dr. Harford spends on a single night out-says more about the blindness of the elites to their own surroundings than it does about Kubrick's inadequacies as a pornographer. For those with their eyes open, there are plenty of money shots.

There is a moment in Eyes Wide Shut, as Bill Harford is lying to his wife over a cellphone from a prostitute's apartment, when we see a textbook in the foreground titled Introducing Sociology. The book's title is a dry caption to the action onscreen (like the slogan PEACE IS OUR PROFESSION looming over the battle at Burpelson Air Force Base in Dr. Strangelove), telling us that prostitution is the basic, defining transaction of our society. It is also, more importantly, a key to understanding the film, suggesting that we ought to interpret it sociologically--not as most reviewers insisted on doing, psychologically.

Michiko Kakutani of the New York Times tells us that Kubrick "never paid much attention to the psychology of characters, much less relationships between men and women," and in fact "spent his career ignoring (or avoiding) the inner lives of people, their private dreams and frustrations." [1] Unable to imagine what other subjects there could be, she, like so many critics before her, shrugs him off as obsessed with mere technique. She is, first of all, wrong; Kubrick examines his characters' inner lives through imagery, not dialogue; as he said, "scenes of people talking about themselves are often very dull." [2] (It could be argued that almost all of this film takes place inside Bill Harford's head.) Secondly, and more importantly, she misses the point: Kubrick's films are never only about individuals (sometimes, as in the case of 2001, they hardly contain any); they are always about Man, about civilization and history. Even The Shining is not just about a family, as Bill Blakemore showed in his article "The Family of Man," but about the massacre of the American Indians and the recurrent murderousness of Western civilization. [3]

Reviewers complained that the Harfords were ciphers, uncomplicated and dull; these reactions recall the befuddlement of critics who complained that the computer in 2001 was more human than the astronauts, but could only attribute it (just four years after the unforgettable performances of Dr. Strangelove) to human error. The Harfords may seem as naive and sheltered as the Victorians in, say, Galsworthy's Forsyte Saga, but to wish that the characters had been more complex or self-aware misses the point. To understand a film by this most thoughtful and painstaking of filmmakers, we should assume that this characterization is deliberate--that their shallowness and repression is the point. Think of Bill in the back of the cab, his face a sullen mask as he tortures himself by running the same black-and-white stag film of Alice's imagined infidelity over and over in his head. (Anyone who doubts that it is the character, rather than the actor, who lacks depth and expressiveness should watch Cruise in Magnolia.) Or of Alice giggling in her sleep, clearly relishing her dream about betraying and humiliating her husband, only to wake up in tears, saying that she had "a horrible dream"; her repression is complete and instantaneous. (She's like Jack Torrance in The Shining waking up shouting from "the most terrible nightmare I ever had," about chopping up his family, about twelve hours before he actually tries to do it.) The itensely staged vacuity of the Harford's inner lives should tell us to look elsewhere for the film's real focus.

One place to look is not at them but around them, at the places where they live and the things they own. Most of the film's sets, even the New York street scenes, were constructed on sound stages and backlots, just like the Overlook Hotel, which was as central to The Shining as its actors. Precision of visual detail is as integral to the meaning of Eyes Wide Shut as is the use of gorgeous faces famous from the covers of glossy check-out-aisle magazines to play a conspicuously attractive high-society couple (not unlike his choice of handsome, bland-faced Ryan O'Neill to play eighteenth-century social climber Redmond Barry.) Even the street sets (criticized by the uniquely provincial New York press as "inaccurate") are expressionistic, with newspaper headlines (LUCKY TO BE ALIVE) and neon signs (EROS) foreshadowing and commenting on the action. In Kubrick's work, nothing is incidental.

Stephen Hunter of the Washington Post mentions that the Harfords' apartment "must have cost $7 million," but only to make fun of Kubrick's apparent disconnection from contemporary America. [4] But the meticulously rendered setting of the film, the luxurious apartments and sumptuous mansions, are meant to raise eyebrows. Kubrick and his collaborator, Frederic Raphael, discussed exactly how much money a New York doctor like Bill Harford must earn per year. [5] The Harfords' standard of living raises questions about their money, and where it comes from--from Bill's sparsely scheduled private practice, or the sorts of under-the-table services we see rendered upstairs at the party? Dr. Harford is on call to that class of person who can afford not to wait in emergency rooms or die in hospitals--people like his friend Victor Ziegler, whose name denotes him as one of the world's winners. Bill uncomfortably tries to compliment the prostitute Domino's apartment by calling it "cozy" (and her use of the standard joke "maid's day off" to excuse the leftovers and mess only draws further awkward attention to the class gulf between them), but his own place looks cramped and cluttered compared to Victor's. Ziegler's house is reminiscent of the Overlook Hotel, with its vast ballrooms and grand staircases, its mirrors and gilt, its bedroom-sized bathrooms. And even Ziegler's place seems modest compared to the opulent Moorish palace of Somerton, where the secret orgy takes place (in Schnitzler's novella it is "a one-story villa in a modest Empire style." [6]) To some extent, the fact that no critics recognized this as deliberate is excusable; we've all learned to overlook the fantastic affluence of the sets and wardrobe in most movies and TV shows, just as black audiences had, for decades, to try to ignore the oppressive whiteness of everyone onscreen. But make no mistake: this is not a film about the "private dreams and frustrations" of what Victor condescendingly calls "ordinary people"; it is about really rich people, the kind that Lord Wendover in Barry Lyndon and Mr. Ullman in The Shining call "all the best people." And it shows us that these people are empty and amoral, using their social inferiors as thoughtlessly as if they were possessions, ultimately more concerned with social transgressions like infidelity than with crimes like murder--just as the film's audience is more interested in the sex it was supposed to be all about than the killing that is at its core.

There's no reason to assume we're expected to like Bill and Alice Harford (in fact, Kubrick once told Michael Herr he wanted to make a film about doctors because "everyone hates doctors." [7]) They don't, like typical Hollywood villains, literally slather or speak with foreign accents. The Harfords are what we think of, uncritically, as "nice" people--that is to say, attractive and well-educated, a couple who collect art and listen to Shostakovitch. But evil among our elites is more often a matter of willful ignorance and passivity--of blindness--than of any deliberate cruelty. And Kubrick emphasizes that culture and erudition have nothing to do with goodness or depth of character; in this film they have more to do with the exhibitionistic display of imperial wealth.

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