看《大武当》的原因很简单：赵文卓，如果没有他的话我肯定不会进影院的。
　　本来还打算着为了票房自己看一遍再拉着朋友或者父母看一遍，我自己的这一次并不后悔，但我也不想坑人了。
　　这片子的确……给我留下了极其深刻的印象。自认为笑点超高的我，居然在影院里笑出声了而且笑得想哭。
　　原来这部片的喜剧类型是这么来的。

　　最先给我留下深刻印象的不是卓叔饰演的唐云龙看起来比他女儿（？）大不了多少的帅气扮相而是函数姐的衣服……身上挂着西藏天珠类的饰品也就算了，那个带毛的厚斗篷真的很突兀，后来看了一眼，函数姐的造型居然还有专人设计……（好像是个日本人？）
　　故事背景发生在民国，然而光看道士会觉得在明以前，看到水合一的娘亲仿佛看到了等待解放的劳苦人民，比武的时候函数姐一身劲装上阵时就变成了朝代不明的武侠片，等到镜头转向唐宁这个烫发妹时才是真的让人崩溃。

　　这一定是一部魔幻片吧！？
　　武当掌门“没了”的时候唐宁爹那一脸正直地说龟息大法是“科学”啊！？
　　武当山的“宝物”怎么会就藏在荒无人烟的破庙里的几片石头底下啊?
　　水合一的娘怎么扎了几针突然就从一个瘫子变好了啊！？
　　水合一明明练的是“睡功”但他打人的时候老是睁着眼睛啊！？
　　唐烫发妹的病一点伏笔都没有这就算了武当比武大会那么多好手怎么最后决赛偏偏是她和水合一而且把决赛赛场搞得像双修现场啊！？
　　怎么一个个都开挂啊！？

　　其实，开头那一段武当山的场景非常、非常的美丽，让我心中的期待像吹气球一样地膨胀着，膨胀着……
　　武打的场景也还是很不错的。卓叔饰演的唐宁爹盗宝时被一堆道姑追，众人从桥上跳到竹筏的那一瞬间真的很美，另外唐宁爹和函数姐演的天心“一起打”的旋律如舞的那部分也非常好看。
　　但一是时间太短，二是光芒完全被片子里其他的情节掩盖过去了……

　　从唐宁爹和天心一起看着“会感应人心的何首乌”傻笑开始，我就止不住笑了，那不是何首乌是压垮骆驼的最后一根稻草。
　　我笑着笑着就停不下来了。
　　烫发妹突发奇疾，口鼻流血，据掌门说是“五脏六腑都在出血”，但即使如此烫发妹依然坚挺顽强地继续……吐血！
　　烫发爹要拿天丹救闺女（我就奇了怪了要救女儿只用偷天丹就好了啊还要其他的干什么）。突然！本来是片子里最帅的道长突然变身反派，想要汇集七宝得道成仙（不过更像是成妖），顿时五雷轰顶一片金光，水合一小同志英勇上前，和道长老boss以梵高的油画“星空”为背景展开了一场……没有大战，老boss直接把小同志戳一边儿去了。
　　身着欧式波西米亚风格裙装的函数姐英勇上前，被戳一边儿去了。
　烫发爹也被戳一边儿去了，然而烫发爹不止英雄无畏更加不屈不挠，一场恶战下来，老boss的上衣已经被撕没了半边儿……
　　老boss已经天丹入体，理论上的武力值狂飙，但烫发爹果然不愧是烫发爹，也不知怎么就突然开了挂，把天丹逼出老boss体外，飞身夺走天丹并且bia一下就把老boss戳一边儿去了。
　　然后烫发妹被救活了但函数姐居然就死了！？
　　关键是……
　　太阳一出来函数姐又活了！？？

　　……
　　哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈！！！！！！！！！！

昨晚看了刘别谦早年的黑白歌舞喜剧片《微笑的上尉》。
讲一个匪夷所思的故事：
一个英俊的上尉（虽然其实也不很英俊）执勤时，
对着马路对面自己的情人调情眨眼微笑，
却正好被路过的小国公主撞见，以为是嘲笑自己。
为了平息轩然大波，上尉只好说自己其实是看见公主太美，忍不住微笑。
这么以来，顺理成章的公主爱上了他，要结婚，
有情人分手，再度重逢，BLABLABLA。

这些情节都很俗套，我很吃惊的是电影的结尾：
上尉的情人是一个拉小提琴的时髦女郎，
时髦女郎被公主召进宫里，两人对撕之后，
为爱同一个男人又笑又哭，产生了同为花痴的情谊。
公主至今和上尉还未同房，无私的时髦女郎一看，这可怎么行？
来，内衣给我看看！你弹的什么钢琴曲？什么？肖邦？
亲爱的公主，你需要的是像爵士乐一样的内衣！
说着，时髦女郎掀开裙摆，性感的蕾丝内衣露了出来。
结尾，这一套果然受用，上尉爱上了改头换面的公主，
一个摩登女。

作为一个女性主义者，我很不能接受这样一个结尾：
只要妻子改装成情人的样子，丈夫就能爱上她？
这也太不把人当人看了嘛！

整部电影，我最欣赏的是其中一段台词：
上尉和摩登女第一次约会，问：“下次我们什么时候见面？”
摩登女说：“晚饭？”
上尉说：“太晚了，我受不了24个小时不见你！”
摩登女说：“那下午茶？……还不行？那你说呢？”
上尉说：“我想和你一起吃早餐。”
摩登女拒绝了，但是下一幕，两个人甜美的一起吃早餐。
摩登女离开宫殿，和公主说了最后一句台词：
“亲爱的，我早就明白了，和一个男人吃早餐的，和吃晚餐的，
往往不是同一个人。”

PS：《摩登女》是去年绿老师推荐我读的一本书，
讲的是十九世纪初倡导的时尚女性：
她们短发，烫卷，穿蕾丝性感内衣，出来工作和交际，
抽烟，喝酒，享受爱情和性，消费奢侈品。
有兴趣的朋友可以对照这部电影和这本书看，
这部电影简直就是“摩登女”的宣传片嘛。

这篇影评可能有剧透 《名侦探柯南：绀青之拳》是“名侦探柯南系列”第23部动画剧场版，在日本票房和口碑屡破纪录。 故事围绕19世纪末与海盗船一同沉入海底的蓝宝石“绀青之拳”展开，事件发生地位于新加坡，基德时隔四年后再度回归，与柯南合体展开行动，还有园子和京极真的CP组合，以及小兰和新一...  (展开)

这是一部关于吉他的电影，蓝调布鲁斯音乐的一个很好的注脚。
　　 很早以前迷恋过一段吉他，虽然不会弹，也没有拥有过吉他，只是单纯的喜欢，朋友的吉他我拿过来能简单的弹些单弦音调而已，搜罗了大批的吉他大师的视频，惭愧，名字我都叫不上来，只是脸熟。以前看过这部电影里的最后高潮的片段，就是男主角与Steve Vai互彪吉他的片段，相当的华丽，有幸下载到这部电影的完整版，打算好好欣赏一下，谁知道下载下来没有字幕，而后又下载字幕文件，下载下来始终对不上声音，好容易找到个对上声音的可里面显示的全是乱码，而后有修改字幕，发觉字幕是台湾人翻译的，是台湾繁体，于是转换成繁体输入视频文件里，终于OK了。 结果证明绝对是值得的。
　　 一句话来说，一个吉他天才寻梦之路与一个黑人老头的圆梦之路。带有一点梦幻色彩在其中，怎么讲呢，其实寻梦的过程中，本身就是一个圆梦的过程吧。如果换成厨艺，或者绝世武功，这个片子一样照排，呵呵，一个厨艺天才要做出厨神失传已久的一个食谱-牛肉面，可真正尝过厨神做的牛肉面的只有一个弥留的老头，古怪的老头带着小厨师到处转悠，其间发生BALABALA，最后，怪老头告诉小厨师，厨神做的牛肉面其实什么特殊作料都没放，只是用心而已，然后小厨师顿悟，后来俩人一起参加天下厨艺大会，击败不可一世的自称厨王的人，然后名扬天下的故事。啊，这个剧本好老套啊。换一个。
　　 嗯，一个练武奇才得到剑仙留下的一种绝世武功，就叫逍遥13剑吧，学成后发觉在书的扉页里隐隐有几个字-逍遥14剑。顿时抓狂，怎么会有14剑？明明只有13剑啊？13剑叫着多酷，14剑太不像样了。不是质数，听起来也没有杀气了，可也得学啊，这14剑应该就是传说中的招数，肯定威力惊人，学成天下无敌。然后苦找武功，可唯一知道此功的人是当年给剑仙做饭的一个怪老头，如今怪老头被关在大狱已经15年了，少年帮助怪老头逃离监狱，为了知道第14剑的招式，然后怪老头提出种种莫名其妙的要求，少年就陪着他走四方闯江湖，最后怪老头告诉他其实没有第14招，剑仙每次练完13招后都没有再出招了，原地站着半个时辰而已。少年苦想终于明白，此时无招胜有招，没找就是第14招，没招，既没有破绽，就是终极招式。后来老头跟少年一起去参加天下比武大会，用第14找击败当时的天下第一剑侠，成为一代武林至尊。。。。。。
　　 呵呵，不知道这片子的导演是不是看过中国的武侠小说，这样的情节比比皆是，不过，十字街头绝对是个好片，单从里面好听的蓝调吉他、口琴来说，都值得永久收藏。
　　 话说Steve Vai 有首曲子-温柔的投降，弹的真实风骚啊。

《血族》竟然是我第一部想要吐槽的美剧。
一、剪辑生硬：从机场过度到CDC的男主出场的环节太突然，无时间提示、无相关联情节过度，再到貌似有内涵有故事古董店强悍老头的情节、还有在透析的幕后老板的内容，都是强行介入，生硬穿插。
二、逻辑不缜密：
1?一架突如其来反应异常毫无生命体特征的航班，就算是CDC先期介入也不可能只是一男一女只身前往机舱搜寻，而且是在发现全机200多名乘客和机组成员集体死亡，发现其他生物痕迹存在情况下还不采取有效防御措施，不听同伴劝导一意孤行的莽撞和毫不顾忌，毫无合理性（你丫CDC的人胆肥到一定程度了！其实看到这片子前面刻画这俩人物手法就能预见，这两货本集必定不死不伤）。试想，如果死亡率不是由疾病或病菌导致，而是现场有未知生物的爬行移动痕迹，可以瞬间杀死几百号人的技能，难道男主和女搭档就如此自信自己不会再出意外？超牛逼的FBI和CIN集体放大假了？
2?明知货舱有很大问题，在隔离4个幸存者的情况下，却随意把嫌疑很大的货舱行李物品暴露在自然空气中。无登记上了机的棺材状物品明显就是诡异的存在，扣子的开关方式是由里向外明显表示有活物自己任意开关，这也不细致调查，打开看是泥土，就只是拿保鲜膜罩起来，放任不管。（难道CDC除了男主和有暧昧女搭档能做检测其他人就没资格碰东西？USA这么缺人？）
3?发布会后，古董店老头在未接触死者情况下把尸体情况描述得如此清楚却没引来鉴定者或者FBI等机构的好奇？一味被男主当成疯子赶走。（FBI和CIA明显被本片当空气）
4?放着需要检验的物品不去查，又跑回机舱抓角落里的虫子，还一看就轻易下结论“不是空气传播，肯定是寄生体！”疾控专家呀，你能再主观再武断点吗？连活体检测都没做呢？这么肯定？！
5?非正常死亡，大量尸体堆积（几百号尸体呀），只安排一个满脸轻松的验尸官去解剖（还被异变尸体围奸），在发现已死心脏有异样活动时竟然大大咧咧随手拿起来捧着观察，你丫真是严谨的美剧吗？
6?另，剧中被爆头的机场负责人，在发现异样声响后寻音而至，看到某昏暗走廊满地血污，凶手老怪爬在地面上时，不是及时call同伴前来，而是好奇的走上去表现出“咦～什么东东捏”的好奇，也太胆肥了吧！！！你丫难道不知道之前机上人死的多蹊跷吗？！丫不被弄死还弄死谁去。这不明显的吗？
7?老怪抓着棺材瞬闪逃脱偏偏选中了被放行的车辆，真是有无敌的预知能力哦！我都佩服它，长得噁心却很有智慧。貌似记得古董店老头说“别让棺材过河！”脑补了一下前面剧情和交代方式，下一集过河的可能性应该好高。
8?最后小萌妹的一身红衣去准备咬她爸时，前面做透析的bass关于爱的言论真是让人觉得好牵强！

总之：该故事讲述的每个角色都是胆肥到脑残程度的，该剧把真实逻辑拿来践踏，含糊混过去的感觉真不招人待见，美剧如今渐渐走上了恶俗、血腥、肉欲的节奏。缺少了合理性和严谨的环节，真是让闻者伤心，听者流泪啊～看美剧的观众真没那么傻的呀～
个人感觉，这片和国产电视剧手撕鬼子有很相似的feel～认真使劲的B级作品

这篇剧评可能有剧透 如题，这剧就只能看个乐呵 逻辑硬伤，女体盛那章，主厨为了保护儿子抗罪，儿子杀了人还敢从日本回来，而且回来也没打算认罪，爹发现儿子被叫回来了直接挟持人质让徒弟看着儿子上飞机，拜托，你儿子是在日本留学马上读研，不是东南亚头目，逃出去了就不好抓了，一波遣返就回来了...  (展开)

在这种信息时代更加需要这种短剧：减去片头10S&片尾曲，一集也就10分钟，全部加起来200分钟出头，一步大电影的时间，就可以让你感受到跌宕起伏的剧情，而且该有肉时有肉，该深情时深情........绝对有一个能满足你的各种需求，虽然是低成本，但是最起码能看到主创们的诚意啊...  (展开)

这篇剧评可能有剧透 用游戏制作粉丝剧集对我来说可能以前闻所未闻，我的世界也并没有玩过而只听说过。但充斥着方块人的我的三体，却的的确确征服了我。或许三体就是有这种魔力。 从一开始的略显不专业，到第三季章北海传的惊艳，我想粉丝们的热情也绝不是毫无凭据。今天只谈一谈自己的感受，和问自...  (展开)

这篇影评可能有剧透 如果没记错的话，自从小学集体组织看主旋律电影回来被要求写观后感以后，在我漫长的三十多年的生活里，还是第一次有人让我看完某部电影之后写点什么，无论对方是出于怎样的理由，都让我觉得认真地有点可爱，更何况在冷气开得越来越足的影厅的黑暗里，一些私密的感受和遥远的记...  (展开)

先说说导演吧，骗人说是个爱情文艺片，丫明明拍的是犯罪惊悚片。我们在片中看到，女主时刻都在躲警察，而男主思密达却傻傻分不清楚的帮她给警官打马虎眼。
好，我们现在细细分析一下。
女主是个坐台小妹，经常不上路子受到客人的打骂，影片中途有一个胖子赏了她两个黑眼圈，后来那个胖子就消失了。胖子为啥消失了呢？答案很明显，被文老师演的女主炮友杀掉了呗。影片给文老师设定的是一个富二代的角色，你觉得导演是煞笔吗？会去找一个闰土模样的人去演富二代？事实就是，文老师扮演的富二代真实身份是一名职业杀手，他在偶尔一次邂逅女主之后爱上了女主，但是碍于自己不能见光身份职业。只能偷偷地保护女主，和女主在一起的大多时光都是在上床。一个杀手的压力是很大的，他需要随时发泄兽欲。女主就沦为了杀手的胯下之物。
当女主决定为杀手生个孩子的时候，文老师发话了，你自己买个家吧！甩了一张卡，那显然是没有密码的卡。这就是要交待后事了。一般来说，职业杀手都是十分有钱的，而他们知道自己快死的时候就会把钱留给一些人。而文老师扮演的杀手显然是个孤儿，因为他没有亲朋好友，只能把钱留给眼前这个女人了。
文老师为了不让女主担心，选择隐瞒真相，不想影响到她的生活。可惜还是被女主发现了，文老师被抓的时候，她就在现场。
夫妻本是同龄鸟，大难临头各自飞，何况还是露水夫妻。女主这下吓尿了啊，这可咋办啊。犯罪嫌疑人在外地犯事之后，一般先想到回老家，找爸妈！
于是她就赶紧买个车票回云南，还跑到丽江，丫原来还是丽江的，你住三房一照壁的纳西院子，纯粹是导演黑我们大纳西族啊，怪不得丽江电影城的服务员说，这片子就不会上，还是电影城老板有见识。
现在我们接着聊，女主上车之后就遇到了男主，男主是干啥的？和老婆离婚了？来丽江疗伤？no!
思密达的出现说明文老师不仅在大陆犯案，还跑去思密达国杀人放火，思密达警匪片里的警察不是比流氓还流氓就是比国际刑警还刑警，显然这货是个文艺范的国际刑警。
经过一系列的追查，长官锁定了和文老师关系最近的那个人，就是女主。
为啥这么确定呢？从影片的几个细节可以观察到。
细节一，粗犷大妈，上车就和女主碰头了，而且住在了离厕所近的包厢里，这是为了方便监视女主，包括她上厕所的时候。
细节二，卖盒饭的，女主要两份盒饭，她却只有一份盒饭，本来是打算下药给女主吃的，没想到她要两份，如果把这份盒饭卖给她，很可能会威胁到偶吧的生命，这时，粗犷大妈就蹦出来要走了那份致命的盒饭！
细节三，乘务员来查票，还带着乘警，但是男主两句话就把乘务员搞定了，为什么这么轻松？因为大家都是认识的，从男主的眼神可以知道，他告诉女乘务员一切尽在掌握中。而女乘务员的会心一笑，也表示她会全力支持偶吧的工作。
细节四，粗犷大妈和男主的唯一一次会面决定了在下一站把已经掌握的信息传播出去。
于是就有了后面的一幕，当男女主各自把钱仍在了站台的小推车上之后，有两个穿制服的大姐就去走了上去，镜头并没有告诉我们结果，但是我们知道离收尾不远了。
最后，他们还是来到了女主的老家，丽江。
一下车，女主的父亲就开着农用三轮就来了，这是第一时间切断男主的监视。
到了古城之后，我就不说那古城了，空荡荡的连人都木有，丽江古城再淡也是一大坨一大坨的人。
这个时候我们发现男主是一个非常有智慧的人，他利用女主讲的放河灯的故事，买下了很多河灯，放在了古城的臭水沟里，来告知女主，他再祭奠这些逝去的人。更离谱的是，他一个思密达居然想到了用歌声去感化她，投案自首。
张胖子的解脱成了最后的选择。
偶吧联系易物店老板一起演了一场戏。
男主先是四处张贴小广告，用一种迷宫的心理暗示将女主诱到易物店，这途中，女主看了无数的河灯，无数的小广告，听了无数的解脱，你确定她听的不是（一瞬间）这首歌？最终从内心深刻醒悟！
当她来到易物店的时候，店主要用她的鞋子换歌碟。这煞笔居然换了，当店主乐呵着，拿鞋换歌碟，看古城的石板路硌死你，小样还往哪跑！
这时候，男主出现在了易物店，影片到此结束，卧槽，这是留了多大的一坨悬念啊！
总的来说，对于本片的评价，和和。

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Sleepy Hollow may mean:
Sleepy Hollow, New York, formerly the unincorporated hamlet of Beekmantown, incorporated as the village of North Tarrytown in 1874, changed its name to Sleepy Hollow in 1997
"The Legend of Sleepy Hollow", a 1819 short story by Washington Irving, set in what is now the villages of Sleepy Hollow and Tarrytown
Sleepy Hollow (film), a 1999 movie by Tim Burton loosely based on Irving's short story
Sleepy Hollow, Illinois, a village named after the short story by Irving
Sleepy Hollow (Mars), a shallow depression in the Gusev Crater on the planet Mars
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上面是我的babylon中wiki对Sleepy Hollow的介绍,看这个片子,纯粹是无意之中BT的结果,当然也多多少少冲看最近风头正劲的Johnny Depp去了.也幸亏没有到豆瓣去看影评,才不枉我凌晨时分独自一人看完这部精彩的影片.

这部中文名叫<断头骑士>的片子的画片很适合像我这样对历史有点小兴趣的人去看,1799年的美国还没有内战,战士还在用刀,火枪还是前装的,斧头也是一种很管用的武器.

影片的画片正是在这种厚重的历史开始的,那个风车状的家族徽章似乎预示着什么,而这个片子伊始,Depp饰演的Crane警官一番科技的高论引导着我这个唯物主义者认为片头砍人头的无头骑士不过是人假装的,正如当初看国产的<神探狄仁杰>中的隋朝无头将军.片头穿插的女巫妈妈的回忆更让觉得这个唯物主义破案故事讲得神神叨叨,但所有的铺垫做足之后,无头骑士居然真得从那株会流血的树中冲了出来,OH,MY GOD,居然是部真的鬼片.

剩下的故事就是显得那么的俗套了,片子的开始的每一个镜子都为回面做了铺垫,剩下的就是让聪明胆小的Crane去破解和最后的反派一号为迷糊的观众解惑了.不过,反派一号的结局真的是让人大跌眼镜,实在是佩服导演的想象力,想想那惊情而血腥的一吻和那白白的小手,这美国片还真不是国产片.

总的来说,这是一部难得的好片,幸亏我没有先到豆瓣上看影评.

这篇剧评可能有剧透 动画刚播出三集，大体的剧情走向和原著差不多，但是在人物设置、背景设定上有些小小的出入，个人认为有许多设计得不错的小细节，浅浅分析一下。 开头江枫夫妇与十二星相中代表鸡、蛇、猪三人狭路相逢，黑屏过后的一片狼藉中，鸡司晨客、猪黑面君已确定死亡，但“蛇”碧蛇神君不...  (展开)

The Lost City of Z is a very long way from a true story — and I should know
A new Hollywood film hypes Percy Fawcett as a great explorer. In fact, he was a racist incompetent who achieved very little

The new film The Lost City of Z is being advertised as based on the true story of one of Britain’s greatest explorers. It is about Lt-Col Percy Fawcett. Greatest explorer? Fawcett? He was a surveyor who never discovered anything, a nutter, a racist, and so incompetent that the only expedition he organised was a five-week disaster. Calling him one of our greatest explorers is like calling Eddie the Eagle one of our greatest sportsmen. It is an insult to the huge roster of true explorers. Had the advertisement been about a soap powder, it would fall foul of the Trade Descriptions Act.

Percy Fawcett joined the army immediately after school, with a commission in the artillery in 1886. The next 20 years involved garrison duty in Ceylon and postings in Malta and England. The only significant events were getting married and becoming a devotee (like many others) of the charlatan psychic Madame Blavatsky. Fawcett’s game-changer came in 1906, when he was 40. The army let him take the Royal Geographical Society’s course on frontier surveying. Far away in South America, Bolivia had just sold its rubber-rich province of Acre to Brazil, so it needed its new north-western boundary mapped. The Bolivians approached the RGS for a mature surveyor to do this. The society’s secretary asked the newly qualified Fawcett whether he wanted to go; he accepted, reported for duty in La Paz and was at work on the new Amazonian frontier by the end of the year. This survey was the best thing Fawcett did. But he described it as boring, because the new frontier was all along rivers. This was the height of the great Amazon rubber boom, so he and his team cruised from one comfortable rubber barraca to the next, taking their regular measurements.

Fawcett’s only publications were a series of papers in the Geographical Journal about his mapping work. But he kept a journal, and in 1953 his son Brian edited this and other papers into a book called Exploration Fawcett. He emerges from it as a typical Edwardian colonial officer — friendly with South Americans but looking down on them, appalled by the cruelty at some rubber stations, full of gossip about life on this remote but boom-rich backwater, and uninterested in nature apart from banalities about dangerous snakes and irritating insects.

In 1908, the Bolivians asked Fawcett to survey another of their frontiers with Brazil: a small river called Verde, far away at the north-eastern corner of the large landlocked country. The preparations were appalling. Fawcett took minimal supplies, since he was accustomed to being fed by rubber stations. This was the end of the dry season with the river at its lowest. So they soon had to abandon their boat and continue on foot. After only a week, all food was exhausted and they were really starving. Fawcett casually remarked that five out of his six peons died from the effects of this five-week disaster. This was the only expedition he led into unexplored territory.

The Bolivians invited Fawcett back in 1910, this time to map part of their boundary with Peru. It involved paddling up a frontier river called Heath and two meetings with indigenous peoples on the banks. The first group fired arrows and guns over their heads. But Fawcett waded ashore with presents and shouting a few words of ‘Chuncho’ (the Peruvian word for all forest peoples) that he had memorised but did not understand. That was the only time that Fawcett attempted any language other than Spanish. Further up the Heath river, Fawcett met a tribe he called Ecocha (now Ese Eja) whom he really liked. They were ‘embarrassingly hospitable’ with their food, so Fawcett spent a few days with them and recorded something of their ethnography. He returned for a second visit in 1911.

After a final survey for the Bolivian government in 1913, of the upper Beni river in the Andes, Fawcett went sightseeing in central Bolivia. He and two companions were paddled down the big Guaporé river. They stopped at Mequens on its Brazilian bank to visit the Swedish anthropologist Baron Erland Nordenski?ld and his attractive wife, who provided guides to take them on a walk inland to visit a people they called Maxubi (now Makurap). The Maxubi were friendly and hospitable, but continuing on a forest trail Fawcett met another tribe (probably Sakurabiat) to whom he took a violent dislike. When one aimed a drawn bow at him, Fawcett shot the man with a Mauser revolver — absolutely forbidden by Brazil’s Indian Service. He described them as he imagined Neanderthals or Piltdown Man to have looked: ‘large hairy men, with exceptionally long arms, and foreheads sloping back from pronounced eye ridges… villainous savages, hideous ape men with pig-like eyes.’ No Amazonian Indian has body hair or looks remotely like this — I know, because I have spent time with over 40 different peoples. These two groups, and the two on the Heath, were the only tribal people seen by Fawcett. He liked two of them. So it was strange that he wrote racist gibberish that ‘there are three kinds of Indians. The first are docile and miserable people, easily tamed; the second, dangerous, repulsive cannibals very rarely seen; the third, a robust and fair people, who must have a civilised origin.’

When Fawcett was in the cattle country of central Bolivia in September 1914, news came of the outbreak of war. So he hurried home and by January 1915 was back in the artillery. In his late forties, he was too old for frontline service; but he fought a good war, ending as Lieutenant-Colonel.

In one of his pre-war lectures to the RGS, Fawcett had spoken of possible ancient ruins in the Amazon forests. He was now told about a scrap of paper dated 1743 in which bandeirantes imagined that they had seen a deserted city in the jungles. (The bandeirantes were slavers who scoured the interior of Brazil for Indians to capture. Although most of these thugs were illiterate, others did write reports about their travels — none of which said a word about seeing ruins.) Fawcett gave this imaginary ‘lost city’ the codename Z, and finding it became an obsession.

The easiest forest tribes to visit in Brazil were on the headwaters of one of the Amazon’s southern tributaries, the Xingu. A German anthropologist had contacted a dozen amiable peoples there in 1884; and since then they had been visited by seven groups of anthropologists or Indian Service officials. All had walked in by the same trail. So in 1920 Fawcett tried to follow this route — even though it was nowhere near where the chimera city might have been. His plans went wrong, so he got no further than a ranch halfway along the trail. In 1921 he searched for the mythical city down on the Atlantic coast, by train inland from Salvador da Bahia; but, hardly surprisingly, the miners there knew nothing.

In 1925, by now penniless but desperate, Fawcett tried again to reach the upper Xingu tribes. He now took two inexperienced ex-public schoolboys, his son Jack and Jack’s friend Raleigh Rimmel. The old surveyor made two suicidal pronouncements. One was that the trio should travel light, with nothing more than small packs. Everyone in Amazonia knew that you could not cut trails and keep your team fed with fewer than eight men. (I can confirm this, having done months of such cutting and carrying.) But Fawcett sent their pack animals and porters back, and continued with only his two novices. His other dictum was that Indians would look after them. This was equally dangerous. The Xingu tribes pride themselves on generosity; but they expect visitors to reciprocate. All expeditions in the past four decades had brought plenty of presents such as machetes, knives and beads. Fawcett had none. He committed other blunders that antagonised their hosts. So it was only a matter of days before they were all dead.

Twenty years later, Chief Comatsi of the Kalapalo tribe gave a very detailed account of Fawcett’s visit, reminding his assembled people of exactly how they had killed the unwelcome strangers. But the German anthropologist Max Schmidt, who was there in 1926, thought that they had plunged into the forests, got lost and starved to death; this was also the view of a missionary couple called Young who were on another Xingu headwater. The Brazilian Indian Service regretted that Fawcett, who was obsessively secretive, had not asked for their help in dealing with the Indians. They felt he was killed because of the harshness and lack of tact that all recognised in him.

Such was the sad tale of this incompetent, whose only skill was in surveying. But the disappearance of an English colonel while searching for a mythical ancient city in tropical rain forests was a media sensation. Two expeditions went to try to learn more. There was revived interest in the 1950s with the publication of Exploration Fawcett and the Kalapalo chief’s account of how they killed the Englishmen. Then it was forgotten until 2009 when David Grann, a talented writer, published The Lost City of Z. Unfortunately, Grann hyped the story out of all proportion and wrongly depicted Fawcett as a great explorer.

As he cheerfully admitted, Grann had no experience of rainforests. But he let his imagination run riot, with pages about ferocious piranhas, huge anacondas, electric eels (actually a fish that has never killed a man), frogs ‘with enough toxins to kill 100 people’, ‘predator’ pig-like peccary, ‘sauba ants that could reduce the men’s clothes to threads in a single night, ticks that attached like leeches (another scourge) and the red hairy chiggers that consumed human tissue. The cyanide-squirting millipedes. The parasitic worms that caused blindness…’ and so on. Everyone who know tropical forests, including me, knows that almost every word of this is nonsense.

Fawcett himself gave a simple account of his four surveying journeys for the Bolivian government. But for Grann, ‘in expedition after expedition… he explored thousands of square miles of the Amazon and helped redraw the map of South America’. Fawcett admitted that he was ‘a greenhorn in the jungle’ and knew nothing about nature. But Grann wrote that he moved ‘inch by inch through the jungle, tracing rivers and mountains, cataloguing exotic species… [until] he had explored as much of the region as anyone’.

For Grann, Fawcett was competing against other explorers ‘who were racing into the interior of South America’. The only study that Fawcett made after leaving school in 1886 was his RGS surveying course. He never mentioned any library research. But for Grann he was ‘almost unique’ in viewing 16th- and 17th-century chronicles ignored by other scholars; he re–evaluated El Dorado chronicles and consulted ‘archival records’ and ‘tribesmen’ in ‘piecing together his theory of Z’. Not a word of this was true, either.

Grann wrote that, as an author, he would have been lost without my three-volume, 2,100-page history of Brazilian Indians and five centuries of exploration. He quotes quite often from my books. So he had no excuse for describing Fawcett’s brief visits to three indigenous villages as the ‘discovery of so many previously unknown Indians’, from whom ‘he learned to speak myriad indigenous languages’, and adopted ‘herbal medicines and native methods of hunting [so that he] was better able to survive off the land’. Equally absurd was his rubbish about cannibalistic tribes, blow guns with poisoned darts, or Kuikuro menacing him with ‘gleaming spears flickering’ from the undergrowth (they never used spears, or had metal even, before their contact 130 years ago).

When the colonel vanished, Grann writes that ‘scores’ of explorers tried to find him, and that ‘one recent estimate put the death toll from these expeditions as high as 100.’ Actually, only one search expedition reached the Xingu, led by George Dyott in 1928. (It found that the three Englishmen had been killed by Indians.) The only other expedition was in 1932, but it got only as far as the Araguaia river far to the east. The death toll from these two attempts was zero. In 1935 a ridiculous actor called Albert de Winton went by himself to the Xingu and was killed by Indians who wanted his gun. So if we count him, the death toll is one — well short of Grann’s 100.

These and a great many other passages are artistic licence and hype of an absurd order. Hollywood believed everything Grann wrote, and then hyped it up more. People wishing to learn about the maverick colonel should consult his own fairly modest memoir — not the recent fantasy book and film about him. But I could recommend scores of writings by real explorers.

John Hemming is a Canadian explorer; the three volumes of his history of Brazilian Indians are Red Gold (1978), Amazon Frontier (1985) and Die If You Must (2004)

胡彩兰在上默写课的时候，看到国文老师林耀国侧头凝望窗外的姿势，忽然爱上了他，于是用默写本的纸画下这一刻，她让画中的林老师叼上一枝花，玫瑰？后来在火车上，面对林耀国，胡彩兰说将来做了导演，一定在她的电影里表现这一幕，说到做到。

《男人四十》这部电影行进到这里，情节已经过了一大半。半夜里我内心忽然起了震撼，我毫无来由地意识到，许鞍华一定是凭借这个戏中说戏的戏说，悄悄圆上了自己儿时的梦。至此，这部电影里的第一个圈套终于不按顺序不合逻辑地来到我身边，就这样把我套牢。

这个充满暧昧却又阳光明朗的故事，这样文质彬彬到酸里酸气的编剧，这部青春的涩暗和中年的圆亮密切交织的影片，这一切的一切，与其说是技术和艺术上的成功，还不如说是如同中国娃娃那样层层设套的关于过去的细节和记忆的密密呈现。

我的职业病让我细细数着影片里出现了多少或者哪些古诗文。从开头的《齐桓晋文之事》，到《送孟浩然之广陵》，到《始得西山宴游记》，到《虞美人》，到《念奴娇?赤壁怀古》当然还有“现在已经不曾有”但“我们那时候有过”的让人梦萦魂绕的《前赤壁赋》。有那么一阵子我以为导演或者编剧翻出了自己以前的课本篇篇细读，文言字句的铿锵音韵给两辈、两位国文老师平添风采，而人物（导演）对《赤壁赋》的执著深沉更是可能让大多数观众无法接受——医院里，关系错综复杂、辈分、身份互相交织重叠的两（三？）辈人，依次诵读并也在聆听这篇可能是文言史上最漂亮、最复杂也最深沉的文字，瞬间我产生了错觉，以为许鞍华会让他们把它读完。导演的痴情或曰心理病征抛弃了电影情节的圆融流畅，用比文艺腔更文艺的腔调祭奠了整整一代人的记忆，她或许失去了观众，但是她迎来了自我和这自我背后的宏大的集体无意识。就连香蕉小孩对“故人”二字的异化解读，都是那么可爱。

也就是说，影院里的人头数对许鞍华来说已经变成小众了。

但是，仅仅让你在文艺腔里缅怀还是远远不够的。这部电影用尽了一个人从十六岁长到四十岁这段时间里所能经历的所有俗套情节，理所当然地，它们本身也是圈套。那永远的前排女生马尾辫，那永远的学生对老师的痴恋，那永远的中年男人无法承受的生命之轻，那永远的廊桥遗梦情怀（而不一定是事实）。甚至，一遍不够，再来一遍，许鞍华不惜让自己片中的人物部分重温了历史（也就是，虚构的人物林耀国复制了另一虚构人物他的老师的历史，而不是用虚构映射现实），纯情小女生变成了问题少女，国文老师还在风度翩然地教学，并用同样躲闪的目光面对着现实。

真正的好电影，让你跳出来。安东尼奥尼（我们有理由在这段日子里用俗套的思维多提他的名字）从《放大》的悬疑里跳出来了，库布里克从《闪灵》的纯粹惊悚里跳出来了，沃卓兄弟从塞伯朋克的虚拟中跳出来了，甚至昆丁塔伦蒂诺让乌玛瑟曼眼睛一眨，画面变成黑白色，他终于部分地从《杀死比尔》的血腥里跳出来了。许鞍华不高兴这么做，她没有忘记自己当胡彩兰时候的任性和执着，她下了那么多套套上你最后又不仅仅为了她自己，她愿意用一部用料二流的电影唤起人们超一流的记忆——有一条最长的河叫长江，长江中游有个武昌，武昌有座黄鹤楼……这部片子国语配音不得已把原来字幕上的高行健换成余秋雨，可它却是那样心甘情愿地跳下去，跳下去……大家今天都跳了没有？

说许鞍华一点不做是不公平的。很多应该是激烈的情节被她处理得圆融和顺、阳光明朗，这样的刻意为之并非人人可为。陈文婧怀孕而遭弃，林耀国小心翼翼地出轨，夫妻俩怨而不伤地争吵……中年人挑起的回忆或者经历的现实总不会恰同学少年风华正茂，他们温文、艰难、战战兢兢、难以自拔却又努力自拔（想到梅艳芳香魂已逝心中不禁一颤）。看到结尾夫妻俩发愿去看三峡，我感到羞愧，羞愧于未见三峡的我和已经消失了三峡的国度，并深深感到温和的谴责同样具备力度。

至此，我敢妄作解人地宣称，许鞍华或者不愿意我们把诸如文化传统、集体心理之类的字眼抛给这部电影，她至多小心地诠释了一下记忆，擦亮了些许细节，在少部分喜欢这部电影的人看完它之后，叹一声，一群痴虫哪！