第25小时

[Monty standing in the men's bathroom, talking to himself in a mirror with a "FUCK YOU" written on it]
Monty Brogan: Well, fuck you, too. Fuck me, fuck you, fuck this whole city and everyone in it. Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back. Fuck the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job! Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores, stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35. Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English? Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from! Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds! Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gekko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for FUCKING LIFE! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Worldcom! Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, 'cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good. Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their, Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos. Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermes scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart! Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take five steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on! Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust! Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin' Otisville, J! Fuck Osama Bin Laden, Al Qaeda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal Irish ass! Fuck Jacob Elinsky, whining malcontent. Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass. Fuck Naturelle Riviera, I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back, sold me up the river, fucking bitch. Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to firemen, cheering the Bronx bombers. Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row-houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue, from the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split-levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it, let the fires rage, let it burn to fucking ash and then let the waters rise and submerge this whole rat-infested place.
[pause]
Monty Brogan: No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all, and you threw it away, you dumb fuck!

废话不多说。

结构上，整部影片“严格”遵循了三一律的要求，在24小时之内，围绕着一个中心时间，在一个中心地点——纽约（上中下城，自布鲁克林到上东区全覆盖盖，象征一个舞台的全部）。当我们以一种戏剧的眼光来阅读时，我们发现了一些更有意思的事情。比如大段独白的运用（诺顿那段爽到飞起的 F-word Insult），全场景展示（Tiro 互殴那一场戏，Siplke Lee 罕见地抛弃了180度原则，全场景拍摄剪切——应该拍了很多场）等等。

环形结构也贯穿影片始终。一件发生在前面的事情、出现在前文的场景，必然有一件后面的事情或者一个场景相对应。比如 Monty owning and disowning the dog; the dog beaten ----Kostya beaten; Monty sitting by the river in the morning and Francis sitting on the same bench at sunset …

在环形结构的基础上，导演采用了多线叙述的方式，尽可能多地将故事的触角延伸到时空的各个角落，形成了“多个”不自足的文本，这些文本与主线——Monty 入狱——之间有大量的留白（比如 Naturelle 和 Monty 自相遇到同居（？）之间的大量省略；再比如 Francis 窗外一组废墟镜头之后的故事等等），在故事层扩充了文本的想象空间。这个层面上来说是，多线叙事是一个足够鸡贼的策略。

为了避免多线叙述“鸡贼”之外的风险，Spike Lee 采用了一种与 Do The Right Thing 完全不同的处理方法。他在影片发展的过程中不断设置悬念并逐一适时解开。比如从头开始，一系列疑问纷沓而至：Monty 和 Kostya 的关系，Trio 的聚会会怎样，见到黑帮老大会不会死，第二天到底会发生什么，到底是谁背叛了 Monty，Monty 会不会逃走等等等等。同时，这些悬念并非线性呈现，而是类似多重复调般你方唱罢我登场——观众同时处于“新悬念设置”“悬念的发展”“悬念的解开”三重力量的挑逗之下，高潮连连。

结构细密，节奏完美，五分理由一番。

人物。

三人一狗，同样是古希腊传下来的 Rule of Three。

除了是个（不太称职）的文学教授之外，Jacob 颇有伊壁鸠鲁派的作风（甚至是他“不称职”这一点也很像），强烈的Mental Discipline, 避开钱（来自上东区的犹太人）、政治（对废墟的第一反应是搬家）、性爱，同时看重友情。Francis 是一个纯粹的狄俄尼索斯派，多金，颜值高，淡漠人际关系，给男人算百分位，问女人什么时候可以 hook up。而 Monty 却是一个 Sceptic，从中学开始贩毒，杜绝一切社会约俗。

电影叫做25th Hour，象征除了 mundane life 之外的超脱世界。在这个世界里，我们跳出所有一切 commonplace，成为另一个“我”。

在这第25个小时里，Jacob充满勇气地给了学生一个吻。Spike Lee 使用了一系列浪漫主义的技术来表现这一“超脱”。比如 Slo-Mo（对从舞池出来的（High 了的） Mary和从 Bath 出来的吻完 Mary 的 Jacob 都是同样的特写 Slo-Mo）与色彩的使用（舞池的大面积蓝光，Mary 特写的黄光，Bath 里的红光，高饱和度）。Francis 的“超脱”是开始“同情”并自我反省。而作为一个怀疑论者，Monty 的“超脱”则是回归信任（相信 Naturelle 没有泄密）、家庭（与父亲关系的缓和）和平权（影片中的第三个 Slo-Mo，Close-up of all people Monty demeaned,）此外，“超脱”的还有 Naturelle（大红唇 Slut 变成“临行密密缝”的慈母）、父亲（反思自己过去的恶习）等等。

人物多而不乱，各自扣题，另一个五分理由。

（想想这部片子其实就是叫大家“变成更好的自己”啊！！！）

这片子想告诉我们什么？

其实 Spike Lee 的片子，不用看就能猜到，一定跟 race 有关。Norton 那段著名的 F-word crap 与影片结尾的 Slo-Mo 明确告诉我们这一点。（不得不佩服 Norton 的演技啊，最后那段 terror-smile-peace 的表情变化，简直突破天际啊！）

除此以外呢？

片中，Francis 和 Naturelle 在酒吧的那段撕逼戏很有意思。Francis 在良心发现骂自己没有及时劝阻 Monty 的同时，顺带“移情”开始撕 Naturelle，指责了她的不作为。Francis 找的点也很有意思，什么 Cartier 的耳环啊，去 Puerto Rico 的头等舱啊，土豪裙子啊如此如此，大意就是，你只想花钱，不想想这钱怎么来的？Naturelle 也不乐意啊，靠，老娘前一秒还想亲你你下一秒就开始撕老娘，就开始发飙了，说，你口口声声说是人家好朋友也没看到你阻止他啊。这时候 Francis 脱口而出，我没花他钱！女主就不说话了。

就是这一个时刻，我们发现我们陷入了一个道德困境。一方面，我们被影片制造出来的所有这些 Melancholy 的情节所打动，什么遛狗的清晨，逆光的秋千恋爱，三岁开始的青梅竹马，父子大和解的晚餐，等等等等。；另一方面，一个一直未被戳穿的现实是，所有的这一切基于（显然违背道德的）“money from thousands of addictions.” ——就像我们从 Francis 家纽约中城大豪宅的窗户望出去，外面是一篇废墟。要不要搬家？

Monty 老爹给出的答案是回到西部，Back to the west, as far as the road take us. 那里有草原，高山，一生一定要看一次的大沙漠，和所有有故事的人。你可以在那隐姓埋名，找到工作，所有人都喜欢你，有一天爱情也会回来，你们有了一个家庭，有孩子，等到老的时候，你坐在沙发上告诉他们，你曾经被逮捕过……这是一个只有在第25小时里才能存在的“超脱”世界、法外之地，走吧。

但显然这不是电影给我们的答案。如果留心的话，我们会发现，从电影开头起，星条旗就一直出现在镜头的各个角落——废墟上插着静止的旗子甚至让人想起阿波罗登月。

Roger Ebert 在自己的影评里面讲，2002年的所有片子，都有一个暗流，9/11。灾难之后，Monty 老爹希望像当年欧洲人来到美国建立国家一样，去往第25小时的时空，建立新的生活。而 Monty 却选择了回到24小时里，留下来，被打得头破血流，静静等七年，再建未来。当然，影片的最后，Monty 老爹的车并未开到监狱，我们也并不知道 Monty 有没有逃走。那条高速公路就像美国的历史，延伸进森林深处，目的地未定。

但其实再仔细想想，Spike Lee 想说的，不是“去哪儿”的问题，不是“要不要搬家”的问题，而是无路可走的问题。

即使是回到了西部，送来 Natruelle 的灰狗巴士，也一起送来了 Stars and Stripes.

至此，五星，以及我的第一篇豆瓣影评。

    You know how they find people?
    They find them when they come home.People went away,but they usually come back,that's why they got caught.
    So you go,and never come back,never come home.
    Let's drive,keep driving, Head out to the middle of nowhere, take that road as far as it takes us.
    You've never been west of Philly, have ya? This is a beautiful country Monty, it's beautiful out there, like a different world. Mountains, hills, cows, farms, and

white churches.
    I drove out west with your mother one time, before you was born. Brooklyn to the Pacific in three days.
    Just enough money for gas, sandwiches, and coffee, but we made it.
    Every man, woman, and child alive should see the desert one time before they die.
    Nothin' at all for miles around.
    Nothin' but sand and rocks and cactus and blue sky.
    Not a soul in sight. No sirens. No car alarms. Nobody honkin' atcha.
    No madmen cursin' or pissin' in the streets.
    You find the silence out there, you find the peace.
    You can find God. So we drive west, keep driving till we find a nice little town.
    These towns out in the desert, you know why they got there?
    People wanted to get way from somewhere else.
    The desert's for startin' over.
    Find a bar and I'll buy us drinks.
    I haven't had a drink in two years, but I'll have one with you, one last whisky with my boy.
    Take our time with it, taste the barley, let it linger. And then I'll go.
    I'll tell you dont ever write me, dont ever visit, I'll tell you I believe in God's kingdom and I'll see you and your mother again, but not in this lifetime.

You'll get a job somewhere, a job that pays cash, a boss who doesn't ask questions, and you make a new life and you never come back.
    Monty, people like you, it's a gift, you'll make friends wherever you go.
    You're going to work hard, you're going to keep your head down and your mouth shut.
    You're going to make yourself a new home out there.
    You're a New Yorker, that won't ever change.
    You got New York in your bones.
    Spend the rest of your life out west but you're still a New Yorker.
    You'll miss your friends, you'll miss your dog, but you're strong.
    You got your mother backbone in you, you're strong like she was.
    You find the right people, and you get yourself papers, a drivers license.
    You forget your old life, you can't come back, you can't call, you can't write.
    You never look back.
    You make a new life for yourself and you live it, you hear me?
    You live your live the way it should have been.
    But maybe, this is dangerous, but maybe after a few years you send word to Naturelle.
    You get yourself a new family and you raise them right, you hear me?
    Give them a good life Monty. Give them what they need.
    You have a son, maybe you name him James, it's a good strong name, and maybe one day years from now years after im dead and gone reunited with your dear ma, you

gather your whole family around and tell them the truth, who you are, where you come from, you tell them the whole story.
    Then you ask them if they know how lucky there are to be there.
    It all came so close to never happening.
    This life came so close to never happening.

  曾经想象过自己是一个为死刑犯做最后晚餐的厨师，精心准备每一次的晚饭，在菜肴里混进我的血肉，灵魂便能依附上那邪恶的身躯，然后和那将要死去的人在地狱里得到救赎。当然，这是小文艺的想法，切实想想其实挺有趣，人之将死，对每样事情都会有活着的人没法体会到的想法，吸收这些故事，会是多么有趣的一件事。又或者，像BBC某纪录片一样，研究为什么眼前痛哭或丧笑着的人可以如此丧心病狂。
  传说将死的人，一生的画面就会闪回在眼前，一个人，将要去往一个极其痛苦的地方，无论肉体上精神上，无疑是极大的折磨。而等待这一天到来之前的时光，才最最煎熬最最愁煞人心。时间从来都是一种痛苦。从软肋处插进去，把内里的血肉搞得支离破碎。
当你在受刑，时间就是侩子手。凌迟处死。
  第25小时，讲的就是等待去往痛苦的一个小故事。
  个人觉得这是诺顿最好最好的一部作品，即使是大张种族旗鼓的《美国X档案》里诱人的肌肉，即使是《一级恐惧》里惊异懦弱的小眼神，即使是你不能提及的那个俱乐部，我都嫌他四角裤里的两条腿太过瘦弱；《第25小时》，一个牵着狗的纤长的身影，足以秒杀一切一切。这身影里的孤独和寂寞，是无比巨大的，像我们宿醉后想不清昨夜发生的事一样，自己极度渺小，空间极其巨大，讽刺的是世界依旧货如轮转，没人把你自以为痛苦的事当回事，这多么可悲，又多么可怜。诺顿饰演的Monty，把自身等待入狱的痛苦深埋，但导演又把这种刺心的感觉一点一点挖出来。
  故事很简单，哥儿们要入狱了，像要结婚了一样，没有人知道这人将来是儿孙满堂还是死于非命，于是活在当下，来个今宵有酒今宵醉。我们都知道，尤其文艺大叔大妈，最喜欢唠叨什么最孤独的就是一群人在狂欢我在里面提不起劲云云，那感觉确实可怕，自己像变回了一个婴儿，不熟悉，想离开，可是你身边的亲戚太投入去捏你的脸蛋，你只能红着脸忍受着，怕别人不高兴。Monty确实是一个男人，你想想入监狱去，龙虎豹鱼虾蟹，天天打你几拳鸡奸个几次，不疯掉才怪不自杀才怪。每个人都知道弯腰捡肥皂就会被逼疯的事情，包括Monty，他把情绪收掉，狠狠地收掉，把自己埋葬在一个冷硬的外表里。
  对于最著名的Monty对着镜子自言自语的一段，刚开始时觉得突兀，思疑导演的意图，这是人生自省？还是鞭挞社会？很长，很长，后来懒惰地想，这是每个人在痛苦挣扎时必经的心路历程。Monty骂了很多人，从的士司机到小孩子到自己的女友到最亲密的朋友，每个人在他眼里像忽然间变了狗屎，不值一文地在他的人生饰演着过路客。我很能体会，像我这种扮艺术家的烂货，从不把人放在眼里，而心理不平衡的日子，连身边最亲最亲的朋友，我也想他们死，真心，真心想他们死。你不能怪我，也不能怪Monty，必须的，痛苦的日子，必须有仇恨每天和你握手做朋友，你才不会发疯；所以你真心想他们死的朋友，才是你最黑暗的日子里的光。
  Monty有四个亲密的人，他爸，他女友大口Dawson，嚣张Copper和屌丝Hoffman。你有这样几个朋友，你让人爆菊到死都必须挺住，为了出来的一天，为了爱你的人，为了和他们在一起。导演把这几个人的地位恰如其分地插在了影片里，真实，不煽情；朋友都喜欢在背后讨论，都喜欢暗暗地担心你但又在你面前装轻松，明知道是错的，又不顾一切地去帮你；你的帅脸是你进监狱后一个害死你的障碍，所以我把它打扁；犹豫了，退缩了，都龟孙子，都娘们。人生得知己如此，死而无憾了。
  人，无论你多痛苦，都要选择，都要对自己负责任。狗血的意念，在片子里却毫无老旧的形式。我走了，我逃走，躲起来，新的身份，新的人生，等待自己的是自由，是快乐；or，面对，被大水喉冲了一身，每天在十几平方的房子里拿一个橙子送饭。片子的最后，导演留下了似是而非，未来，我们不知道，片子要讲述的等待过程已经结束；未知的，无论是Monty，还是我们，都很飘渺。
  希望，实在很虚无很虚无的一个狗东西。

一开始还没意识到，frank家窗外的空地就是911的废墟。
他说：再撞一次我也不搬家。


2道冲天的蓝色光柱，那样巨大的幽灵。
到底想纪念什么呢？


有一天--也许人生彻底失控了--会油然而生荒诞的感觉。
一瞬间灵魂出窍，看自己的身体孤独机械的在世界上走走停停，就像看一部闷死人的电影。
没剧情也就罢了，连背景音乐都没有。


想起当年同桌的女生，如今居然去了华尔街，彻底两个世界。她当年数学还不如我吧。
第一个陪我看电影的女生呢--虽然只是出于好心，帮我实现个夙愿...

我的镜子上很干净，没有白色的单词。
自己也歇了吧。