看了豆瓣上面的评价,都是一些很优美的文字,说这是他某个系列杰作中的一部。我从周六开始看,强忍着耐心坚持到了今天,终于看不下去而放弃。 电影的形式感与仪式感都很好。因为没有看完,所以就不评价电影而说一些题外话。 第一个是讲究以物印心的禅宗。对禅宗的地位评价,一般学者都认为在佛教发展史中,禅宗代表着佛教发展的最高阶段。禅宗强调众生的佛性本具,创顿悟成佛之学。这让佛学形而上化而非形而下化,方法论被过度抛弃之后让后来者发疯的居多,得道的却少。 另一个是我非常喜欢的,让艺术的边界完全消融掉的杜尚。他说他的艺术就是某种生活,每一秒、每一次呼吸都是一个作品,在边界消融掉的过程中,他也实现了这种消融,从有我走向了无我。这种影响时至今日,就是纽约的某个美术馆一而再再而三的展出了些完全空白的作品,最近据说又展出了一次,也算是对道生一与三生万物的一种另类诠释。 杜尚的无我,完全是以有我为根基的。 有个剧集说是萨特拒绝诺贝尔文学奖的时候,杜尚冷言冷语:拒绝一件事和接受一件事,其实是一回事。对铃木清顺的这部电影,也很适用这种非常虚无主义的评价。 玄之又玄,众妙之门。 我想这应该就是这部电影的意义吧。
我相信大部分人和我一样看不懂这故事讲的是什么,因为这根本不是一个完整的故事,分不清哪里是梦哪里是现实,哪里是意识而哪里是真实。
片中的男主(松田优作饰演)不断遇到一位少妇,又不断失去她,为了重温鱼水之欢,他又不断地去寻找她,在这个大的故事里面,提及了几个似有似无的小故事。
先不说意识流,说这些似有似无的故事,来自泉镜花的同名小说,泉镜花被称作开创了“观念小说”的先河,当然我不是学文学的,对“观念小说”也没有深入的了解和研究,只是在我看来,和小泉八云的《怪谈》类作品非常相似。
不同的是,小泉八云是用西方的思想来承载日本的神怪志话,泉镜花是用日本的思想来解读映射现实的虚幻怪谈。
其实都很接近《聊斋志异》,我至今记得《聊斋》里一则故事,一少妇还未出殡,冒然请求留宿的赶路客们住在她停尸的房间,晚间她轮流吸走他们的阳气,直到一个人惊醒发现夺门而出。
这画面像极了《大话西游》中至尊宝和唐僧夜间发现黑山老妖一个个吸走赶路商贾们的阳气。
我不知道周星驰和他的创作人员有没有看过这则故事,灵感是不是来源于此,但文化的魅力在于,它可以无限传承和不断创新,总能用一种似曾相识的奇妙感觉集中你,似乎变了也似乎没变。
铃木清顺的奇妙之处还在于,他用视觉做了大胆的探索,片中许多日式和西洋的美术风格混合在一起,然而艺术本就是想通的,就像意识流本就借鉴了浮世绘不是吗?
水缸中浮满橘子的画面,好看有经典,你很难想象,如此酣畅豪放的情感来自和《其后》同一年代的大正时期。
剧作家为了一场梦中的相约殉情的情书,为了桥上与鬼魂一见钟情的幻影,来到金泽的湖畔面对这两位梦中情人的财主丈夫,无政府主义狂徒,阳炎剧场中的赤鬼和来自地狱的画外音。这些死亡的威胁,丈夫猎杀偷情者的猎枪,把剧作家逼到生死的,菩萨与恶鬼的边缘,情人为了用爱打败丈夫和他的前妻而自杀死去,留下仍旧想活着的剧作家跪倒在地,目睹阳炎剧场的倒塌。 “阳炎”指的就是炎热天气时蒸腾的热浪气流,在这美丽的金泽湖畔的阳炎剧场,一切也都像这海市蜃楼,热浪蒸腾中的浮光掠影一般,只剩幽灵和梦幻泡影。 导演铃木清顺将电影艺术与日本传统歌舞伎结合,以剧作家之眼,通过窥探内部雕镂了性爱与死亡的人俑,和在剧场观看两位情人(财主丈夫的两位妻子)先后死去的戏中戏,将死亡、男女情爱、幽灵梦幻的主题以最古典与现代,和风与西洋交融的方式呈现。 这一颗鲜红樱桃,就是她的灵魂。她把灵魂给了你,用梦中的情书召唤你来此,你却无法打败她的丈夫,又独自贪生不肯随她赴死。
直到最后一刻,剧作家就像那对殉情的年轻男女一样,背对背坐在了梦中人亡灵身后 ——电影《阳炎座》
Seijun Suzuki’s The Taisho Trilogy marks the apex of his artistic idiom, a style that is totally detached from his previous works of B-quality yakuza quickies. The trilogy successfully reinstates Suzuki as a virtuoso filmmaker after he fell out with the studio and went independent.
All three films are set in the Taisho era (1912-1926), and their male protagonists are intellectuals, in ZIGEUNERWEISEN, Aochi (a hunched Fujita, a fellow movie director dips his toes into performing in front of the camera), a professor of German, is gravitated to his former colleague-turned-nomad Nakasago (Harada) and his unconventional relationship with women, which could imperil Aochi’s own passionless marriage; in KAGERO-ZA, a playwright named Shunko Matsuzaki (Matsuda) is involuntarily hooked up with the wife of his patron, but is she a ghost with a grudge? And YUMEJI is a faux-biography treatment of Yumeji Takehisa (1884-1932), a Japanese poet and painter, whose creativity and inspiration gets mired in his abandon of wine, women, and song.
Fairly speaking, Suzuki’s male protagonists are made up by cowards, Aochi is too retiring and prim to acknowledge his feelings for geisha O-Ine (Ôtani) and her doppelgänger Sono (Ôtani again), Nakasago’s ill-treated wife; Shunko is a spooky fool who is none the wiser in the parlous game of temptation and sadomasochism; whereas Yumeji (rocker Sawada) is reduced to a skirt chaser whose raffish charm is lost on audience. Meantime, Suzuki and his scribe Yôzô Tanaka concoct a counterbalance in the person of Yoshio Harada, who appears in all three pictures (although in KAGERO-ZA, his role is a minor one), and basically plays the same character, the fickle, macho, irresponsible type, who is both attracted and repelled by pretty women, a standpoint streams across the trilogy.
Conversely, the petticoat presentation goes to the mystical, women are insubordinate despite of ostensible submission. In ZIGEUNERWEISEN, Aochi’s anachronistically coiffured wife Shuko (Yasuda, who also play three prominent characters in the trilogy and each time, carries off a different facade of the inscrutability of femininity) is (possibly fantasticated as) a bold temptress, an eroticized and emasculating tease; in KAGERO-ZA, Shinako (Yasuda again, peculiarly prim-looking), the phantom-like entity seduces and mesmerizes Shunko, can not be pinned down with any concrete conclusion, like a banshee, she wails for destruction, but she will not go down that path all by herself; in YUMEJI, variety increases, Tomoyo (Mariya) is a widow who entices and bemuses Yumeji, Hikono (Miyazaki) is the girl who loves him unconditionally, Oyo (Hirota), a frisky fangirl, is good for a fling. Thus the question is, which one is the muse he looks for? None would be a surprising answer.
Suzuki’s stream of consciousness fluidity is so adroit in nailing the yawning gender divide, the mutual incomprehensibility between the two sexes, and his imagery, with the gradation from colorfully subdued to profusely garish (culminated in YUMEJI, an chromatic feast almost too ornate by half), is an astonishing achievement, consistently striking through the trilogy: red crabs out of a dead woman’s crotch, solarized effect, porcelain dolls with erotic drawing inside, particolored balloons, just to name a few off the top of my head. They are so felicitous to the background (whether natural or artificial) and idiosyncratically expressive, their lusciousness is nearly ASMR-inducing. Then, the impeccable compositions often articulated with languid movements (beware of off-the-wall mirror images!), the rich scores mingling together traditional ear candies, jazz-infused effusion (Shigeru Umebayashi’s prominent theme strain of YUMEJi would later be plundered by Wong Kar Wai in his seminal mood-setter IN THE MOOD FOR LOVE, 2000) and the recurring Zigeunerweisen for sure, Suzuki’s avant-garde style is so profoundly rooted in the Japanese culture and mentality, yet, his conceit is transgressively modern, pace is deliberately slow, performances are highly theatrical while he flouts the boundary of storytelling.
The truth is, in all three films, the meandering plots never reach a point of clarity, they are dismembered along the line (all three features run over 2 hrs), yet, strangely enough, it is not exasperating, since it is Suzuki’s style of expression becomes the cynosure. Each time, audience are tickled to savor the transcendentally arranged scenery, rather than to decipher the signification of words or actions (which are sometimes contradictory and inconsistent). That said, if one watches all three in a row, it is liable to feel somewhat fatigued, since each film doesn’t possess enough personality to distinguish itself from the other two. Which explains why their ratings are descending, although KAGERO-ZA orchestrates a crucial Noh play to apparently explain the crux, how one can appreciate it varies differently.
By my lights, ZIGEUNERWEISEN is the best among the trinity, for being a more ludic and freewheeling vehicle that is almost unperturbed by affective force, and its psychic elements are more pellucid (a young daughter communicates with her dead father through dreams, versus the elusive suicidal pact in KAGERO-ZA), plus the inclusion of a triad of blind mendicant minstrels, chanting ribald ditties while the hierarchy of their sex preference goes through an irreverent modulation. And my final counsel is one picture at a time, The Taisho Trilogy is a rich mine where numen prevails and creativity brims.
referential entries: Suzuki’s PRINCESS RACOON (2005, 6.5/10); Kon Ichikawa’s THE MAKIOKA SISTERS (1983, 8.1/10).
Title: Zigeunerweisen
Original Title: Tsigoineruwaizen
Year: 1980
Country: Japan
Language: Japanese
Genre: Mystery
Director: Seijun Suzuki
Screenwriter: Yôzô Tanaka
based on the novel by Hyakken Uchida
Music: Kaname Karachi
Cinematography: Kazue Nagatsuka
Editing: Nobutake Kamiya
Cast:
Toshiya Fujita
Naoko Ôtani
Yoshio Harada
Michiyo Yasuda
Kisako Makishi
Akaji Maro
Kirin Kiki
Isao Tamagawa
Rating: 7.9/10
Title: Kagero-za
Year: 1981
Country: Japan
Language: Japanese
Genre: Fantasy, Thriller, Romance
Director: Seijun Suzuki
Screenwriter: Yôzô Tanaka
based on the novel by Kyoka Izumi
Music: Kaname Karachi
Cinematography: Kazue Nagatsuka
Editing: Akira Suzuki
Cast:
Yûsaku Matsuda
Michiyo Yasuda
Katsuo Nakamura
Mariko Kaga
Eriko Kusuda
Ryûtarô Ôtomo
Yoshio Harada
Emiko Azuma
Rating: 7.8/10
Title: Yumeji
Year: 1991
Country: Japan
Language: Japanese
Genre: Drama
Director: Seijun Suzuki
Screenwriter: Yôzô Tanaka
Music: Shigeru Umebayashi
Cinematography: Jun’ichi Fujisawa
Editing: Akira Suzuki
Cast:
Kenji Sawada
Tomoko Mariya
Yoshio Harada
Leona Hirota
Masumi Miyazaki
Kazuhiko Hasegawa
Michiyo Yasuda
Akaji Maro
Tamasaburô Bandô
Kimiko Yo
Chikako Miyagi
Rating: 7.6/10
墓地之花探病艳遇,爵士乐与艺妓舞,暗夜湖边死者游船,无政府主义裆下蘑菇,殉情预告远游狩猎,收到一封梦中来信,共济会鼓点不识人偶内在,月下金发现真容,戏中戏雪女崩坏剧场,殡葬木桶泉涌圣女果之魂,一无所有走过猎奇杀戮浮世绘之街,“我不会写如此现实主义的作品”……够飞够开心
这样的结构,一般是玩不了的。
非常有意思的是铃木清顺的节奏感,大量借鉴日本传统能乐的步调。水缸溺水镜头可谓惊艳四座。
主观意象。。完全读不明白。。影像蛮炫彩。。看了一半。。后半略过。。
空无一人的迷幻病院、死寂的河飘着渡生死的小船。男主随着渡船踏入了神笼从此越过了生死,不分癫狂与混沌梦境与现实。望远镜中的废墟仿佛说着燃不尽的情欲来世再烧般扭曲疯狂。配色考究绝赞~净琉璃、能乐元素的加入让片子更加鬼魅。细节控玩物控一本满足还有这打光、明暗对比还有构图简直了!想要ost!
为什么那么高分,为什么那么高分,我浪费了两小时,期间睡了一个小时,这个电影连我都看不懂,华丽的摄像有什么用,不是拍给我看的,不是拍给现在的我看的,不是拍给人类看的,恐怕只有死人看的明白。
铃木清顺「大正三部曲」之二,摄影、配乐极佳,情节诡异,大赞!
好看,美轮美奂,亦幻亦真。武可以黑帮暴力,血流不止;文可以安静绚烂,逝者如斯;动可以肉体骚动,滚滚翻腾;静可以春风拂花,日影西斜;文艺起来可以天马行空想象力爆炸,商业起来动画片通俗易懂,扣人心弦。这就是铃木清顺大监督。
又美又诡异
《阳炎座》——细细看来,花非花,雾非雾,好一出日版《活捉张三》,却又美得如此瑰丽繁复。想来还是东坡词最为应景:玉骨那愁瘴雾,冰姿自有仙风。海仙时遣探芳丛。倒挂绿毛么凤。素面翻嫌粉涴,洗妆不褪唇红。高情已逐晓云空。不与梨花同梦。梦,生死之间可以短暂忘却生死的钟摆。爱是出生,恨是死亡,梦是脚踝上的小铃铛,梦是素履以往。每天你在我的夜晚里出生,每天我在黎明醒来时死亡。我们做的是同一个梦吗?梦让我们走出现实,耳鬓厮磨,肢体交缠,成为一个永不可及的幻想。
難怪增村和溝口叔會抵制泉鏡派。白肋和松崎代表國體和天皇一體兩面 共享的三妻 分別代表東西交合的大正時代與昭和時代 第三位在德國相識 譬喻嘉仁天皇不能再多 品子作為伊音替身象徵嘉仁對明治之前傳統的眷戀 松崎在霓虹古今的生死沉浮間徘徊 舉起望遠鏡時 彰顯熱愛文學+淫生的嘉仁何以被大正變異捉死
红丸梦魇泉镜花,七虫七花入膏肓,忽喇喇幕落台坍,绮罗堆里飞白练,水仙已乘樱桃去
清顺美学,浪漫三部曲第二部。泉镜花原作。痴情书生为人妻之美所倾倒,越是靠近她,却越是感觉到无法抵达的距离。在石阶在木桥在河川,在她们相遇在每一条生于死,现实与梦境的边界线之上,此处萌生了爱情,也暗藏着死亡的气息。
画面艳丽,情节诡异。
8/10。铃木清顺充分运用建筑道具倒塌的技术构成视觉震撼,在一场戏中戏,松崎坐在舞台前欣赏儿童即兴演出的歌舞伎,戏中再现玉肋的两位妻子先后以疯病和殉情两种自我毁灭的方式报复丈夫的傲慢(以威胁性的猎枪为隐喻),讲述第二位妻子时,红衣人在演员身后扮演木偶操纵者,画外说唱者的念白预告下一幕人偶转换成本片女主角,她扯下幕布,向舞台背后奔去,整个舞台建筑轰然倒塌,松崎伏在舞台跟前被女性的怨念所震撼。女性自溺后漂浮而上的橙色海洋球占满充气水池,给人带来人工幻化美学的乐趣,结尾殉情的松崎灵魂短暂停留在世间,火车窗外移动的巨大浮世绘背景,展示其地狱般的内心图景。伊音天生的金发象征大正知识份子对西洋思想的崇拜,丈夫玉肋逼迫她染成黑发、穿和服梳发髻,死后她的魂灵在月光下又呈现金发碧眼的相貌,这种日夜变化代表生死界。
舞台形式感甚强,做足颜色对比,美则美矣,然腐朽凋零坍塌不过一瞬,究其华丽诡异荒诞,寺山修司与之相比不过尔尔;梦中梦戏中戏,似真非真似幻非幻,不过水月镜花。
灵魂是什么?梦中梦,谜中谜,我愿意钻进泉锦花和铃木清顺设计的迷宫中,永远不想出来。
大正诡异之二……梦与现实纠缠不清……生与死也纠缠不清……凌乱了……构图极美。
意象、记忆、幻象、现实拼贴成的鬼魅光影,形式与表演更倾向于戏剧,传统配乐非常惊艳,其中尺八的声音听起来像逝者的邀语。
无聊得精彩,精彩的无聊!