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.
如何细密地书写回忆，赋予回忆者一个“秘密身份”。我即时代。
整部电影，我一直都为梅朵感动，她从失去哥哥，再到弟弟，最后是丈夫，可她没有倒下。第二个就是韩老师无私的精神，把每一个孩子都是看的主要
半梦半醒的60年代成长纪录，前半段信息轰炸般地用台词复述、重塑了一种早已远去的生活方式，在里面有看不完的科幻恐怖电影、看不完的电视节目、听不完的怀旧金曲和度不完的家庭假期；后半段进入地面生活和登月任务双线平行剪辑之后，电视里黑白的CBS新闻片段就只是已定性的历史记录，而彩色的、略显沉默的单人登月才更像连接宇宙空间中人体视觉和听觉等感官的私人记忆。
虽说演员不是那些特别出名的名角，但是他们的演技非常棒，每个人把角色还原的非常好
感觉可称为爱在60年代太空热动画版。半个世纪前，世界的一边是越战，另一边是登上月球；现在，世界的一边是乌克兰战争，另一边是能源和新冠，真是一代人有一代人的回忆。
现在，只有满地鸡毛
从“少年时代”到“各有少年时”再到“阿波罗10½号”，林克莱特的美国越来越后缩，变成只存在于记忆中的年代符号，跟今天的美国就像两个世界。怀旧情怀又能走多远呢？赶紧把“爱在4”拍了才是正经的...
一代人的航天梦，以回忆的形式来讲充分发挥了记忆不可靠在电影叙事中的作用，本来自己睡着了，却因为经历过，硬给自己加戏的做法给电影加了一层可爱。不过归根结底还是对60年代美国生活的怀念，都是代表性的细节点
很喜欢！用自传体似的叙事风格来展现了上世纪60年代美国盛行的太空浪潮 游刃有余的编排节奏加上真人动画结合的现代化画风（个人很喜欢）我感觉几乎是完美的动画片了。一开始我就在想 自己被选中了当世界上第一个宇航员上月球 是可以吹几辈子的资本 怎么能忍得住不告诉别人呢？怎么能忍得住自己内心的狂喜呢？民族自豪感爆棚！但是当自己躺在沙发看阿波罗11号宇航员和自己曾经的任务平行剪辑时 总统打电话跟他们说为他们感到自豪时我才领悟到 自己那么辉煌的事只字不能提 其实是一种切肤之痛——可能是我理解过度 我感觉NASA根本就没有尊重过这个孩子 只是把他当做和苏联抗衡的一个用完即弃的工具 对这孩子的友善只是场面话 大抵美国政府也是这种办事方式吧。很喜欢他们一家小孩子亲密无间的相处方式 但实在没有共鸣 只能扣一星。
看着孩子们求学若渴的眼神真的会充满力量，当然也会有压力，男主真不容易。
属于那种拍的还行，但用宝贵的空闲时间看会后悔的类型
童年的感觉如此妙不可言，即使它属于其他民族，即使它跨越世纪，我们作为人类的体验却如此相似。
没有快进的看完了，对于现在浮躁的环境来讲，能认真看完这样一部电影，真的很难得。
现在，只有满地鸡毛
不算跌宕起伏的剧情，平淡的叙事中蕴藏着波涛汹涌的冲击，故事就像大家常常听到的那样“普通”。但是，孩子们不普通的热烈情感，不普通的对知识的渴望，感染着我们所有人。我们都在荆棘的道路上越走越远，越来越好。
再想一想之前看过的少年时代
3.5。太空只是引子，满篇更多的是对那个年代的怀念和致敬；孩童的视角让电影整体诙谐有趣，以家庭做为故事的依托又平添几分温馨。缺的是共鸣，毕竟这事讲的终究还是美国的事。
很自豪的看到，阿尔忒弥斯即将接过阿波罗的大棒，继续追寻远方!
7.6 以动画转制现实来进一步混淆不可靠叙事，“我”的一小步越过了“人类”的一大步，“两次”登月的平行剪辑高潮竟如此举重若轻，而是以其为核心在离散的叙述间拼贴出60s的美国风情画，林克莱特对于时代符号的迷恋可见一斑。
当懊恼错过历史一刻的时候，是不是也把自己当下的美好放进了角落，回首往事，其实平凡才是真实的自己
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