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.
3⃣不要轻易透露自己的社会关系薄弱，没家人爱没朋友理
蛮血腥蛮恐怖的，本来应该打四星，但是色调太暗快把我看瞎了，扣一星
性别政治满分命题作文，就是因为有本片这样的存在，好莱坞类型电影才变得越来越没劲了。
问题来了，希望脱单的我看完怂得立刻跟靠谱闺蜜们们们分享这部非常女性的女性电影和观后
密室电影，困兽斗环境下，正邪决战的情节甚至强于同类型的电影致命ID。非裔亚裔拉丁裔各显其能，白人角色则全部路人，大女主电影，三星半鼓励
极好 吊着一口气看完了 并感到遭受了创伤，作者牛掰
没有过度渲染恶心和恐怖。反而是男主角沉浸在制作人肉的快乐中，讨论吃人肉的过往，以及如果美味的烹饪，一帧帧大快朵颐人肉的画面，这种反常的正常让人恐惧。
智者不入爱河啊智者不入爱河~
3.5星，女主吧智商大部分都是在线，偶有掉线，战力不怎样但是观察出众，整部片都靠她来推进情节了，演员演得也还不错；故事进入暴风雪山庄模式突然变得好看了，扑克片段也安排的很有意思，但是当两个绑匪都揭示的时候故事走向就有点乏味，本以为还可以持续高潮，可惜导演也没有更出色的发挥了，几次反转马马虎虎，最后打酱油送人头的jc真的每部恐怖片都要有这么一出…
喜欢里面穿插的幽默成分，尤其是最后“他是已婚？”Seb演得不错，很长时间没看过他出演的电影了，虽然男主的角色如果由Armie演出应该也可以。。
哈哈哈头回觉得冬兵这么可爱，女主也怪可爱的，如果不是几个演员撑着以及“旅行”前的部分还算轻松有趣，就这片子的设定...真没法看。另，男主一下子就被找到了是不是有点太简单了。再另，女主闺蜜好像是从事时尚行业的，找去男主家的时候穿的大衣真的好像穿了个小鹿斑比。最后，友谊万岁！
3.5星！女性作为被消费与食用的肉与商品，而男性则作为一个尽情占有、享受与买卖这一商品的资本家。本片与一般女性主义影片的差异则在于，通过将这一异化与物化概念直观的暴力的呈现，通过将女性与商品，男性与资本的相联系，而揭露出一套性别版的私有制社会制度。
平时看食人没什么感觉，这部看起来为啥有点yue呢。而且产生了幻肢疼痛的幻觉哈哈哈
暴风雪休息站，深夜推凶，每一次剧情刚让人松了口气，都紧伴随着一次急转直下的反转，几番对决十分刺激
如今很流行这类“身体恐怖片”（专门研究人体各种偏差的恐怖亚类型，如《生吃》《钛》，北欧片《我心蔚蓝》等），本片将女性视为肉块，在餐饮业和社交网络中以物化女性而发财，原本应该抨击在这个系统之上的男性/富人，吃是一种概念化的表达。结果最终还是发展成为无脑血浆片，这就变得头重脚轻、前后割裂，失去了原有的批判力道。
古今中外 男人都吃女人，看清现实，放弃幻想，远离男人！
3.2/名叫新鲜 但事实上不够新鲜 色调很美 但中间太无聊了 就结尾部分开始精彩
问题来了，希望脱单的我看完怂得立刻跟靠谱闺蜜们们们分享这部非常女性的女性电影和观后
我讨厌已经过了半个小时才进入正题的恐怖片，关键前面所谓的文戏也没有铺垫意义。整部电影就是各种温吞的文戏交缠在一起，乏味，空洞，人物角色也没什么特色，全片唯一动了点心思的可能只有电影海报的设计师。
近年来最流行的Why woman kill类作品，可惜过于娱乐了，惊悚氛围就显得不足，但还是蛮变态的，巴基啥时候能演个正常角色啊
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