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.
巴黎现代公寓里小家的十年。档案视频穿插得很妙，没有那种这类视频出现在叙事片里时惯见的生硬感，也不曾强说些什么。轻盈，看完走路都有点飘飘然了。
- 那大家能看明白吗？ - 不一定能看明白。但咱们这部电影一定能留下来，咱们做了应该做的事，问心无愧。
一部让人温暖的电影。生活尽管有挫折，但还是可以温柔而饱含爱意地对待身边的人。
“我们曾经瞥见的，我们的碎片，会由我们的梦来滋养”。雨天给自己的礼物，深夜听着雨声自己看时仿佛回到南方暖光灯下的小小书桌旁，手边放着日记本和热茶。
电影里有段台词，刀仙和小师妹，双剑合璧杀妖怪。没有逐梦演艺圈，只有复仇和家国大义。
太好看了！怀旧80年代的巴黎，电影叙事太让人舒服了，看完下来就有种四平八稳的感觉。依旧是非常的法式浪漫，普通人的浪漫生活。刚开始看男主莫名觉得很眼熟，后来想起来是一个porn演员lol
偷奸耍滑的小聪明，万合天宜短片笑点合集，刘循子墨更自恋了。
不会演的，越认真那个使劲的感觉就越明显。
算很出彩的一部国产电影了，惊喜连连。不知道有多少人能懂这个梗：他是我爸，却打我马，这样对吗？
因为上映后一水的好评，所以我是抱着相当高的期待走进电影院的，但是它真的让我非常失望。在我看来，这部影片更像是剧本杀综艺的升级版，质感甚至比不上网大。大量室内戏的设置也许是出于节约成本的考虑，但这也大大暴露了导演的水平不足。起码在前一小时，我看不到任何有想法的场面调度，演员的表演也乏善可陈。电影的核心案件和市面上成熟的剧本杀作品别无二致，缺少新鲜感。舞台感极重的服化道还有布景也让我无法入戏，仿佛在看剧本杀综艺。
我十分同意，祇有無比愛電影的人才能拍出這樣的電影。
不会演的，越认真那个使劲的感觉就越明显。
剧本杀式的推理悬疑电影，辅以搞笑的段子、无厘头的情节、戏谑的迷影梗、隐射现实（电影行业、掌权者的游戏与弱点）让人看得津津有味。
不寻常，而且脆弱，像你一样。法式柔软，冬天壁炉火光前一头埋进羊毛衫里深吸一口毛绒的舒适。敬有你们陪着的快乐。
好文艺，不仅电影拍得文艺，豆瓣评论也文艺，似乎不懂几句法语，不能说出几个电影专业名词，不能对比几部小众文艺片都不好意思写评论了，而我只是爱这温柔而绚丽的夜呀
其实温柔也是一种力量，上善若水，真诚的面对生活，勇敢的热爱它！
说真的现在国产的搞笑悬疑电影能拍成这水平，不要屎尿屁低俗黄色，不要大声嚷嚷疯疯癫癫，行了我也不要求别的了，值回票价
像在看《一年一度喜剧大赛》剧场版，还不带快进跟倍速功能。
类似于《十二怒汉》《这个男人来自地球》的“一群人在一个房间讲故事”的电影，剧本创造还是很有难度的。
这样的类型片非常值得鼓励。用喜剧元素把观众留住，再不断抛出悬疑信息让观众代入。案件没有那么复杂，却足够细致。推演出的真相有社会讽喻，又见态度。如果还不够，那就再加一个反转。对电影倾注了真心的一帮人，才能做出这种作品吧。其实影片里颇具打磨感的台词也能体现这一点（韩寒一定有参与），它的功能不仅是搞笑，还在提供信息，丰富人物。
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