The Belgian filmmaker spent a period of time, unspecified, a week or two, in an apartment in Tel Aviv that was lent to her. She lived there alone, in virtually complete isolation, indirectly filming and narrating the experience, sustained only by "provisions" found in the kitchen, especially rice and carrots, having had stomach trouble from an Israeli salad; didn't go to cafes ...
(展开全部)
The Belgian filmmaker spent a period of time, unspecified, a week or two, in an apartment in Tel Aviv that was lent to her. She lived there alone, in virtually complete isolation, indirectly filming and narrating the experience, sustained only by "provisions" found in the kitchen, especially rice and carrots, having had stomach trouble from an Israeli salad; didn't go to cafes or supermarkets, and rarely even went out, except for a couple of forays to the sea; the apartment was a block or so from the beach.
La-bàs is a series of long stationary shots out the windows, often showing figures of old people on balconies on the roof or buildings opposite. A woman, immobile, is tended to by her husband. One man sits for long periods motionless. Ackerman in voice-over says she thinks he's watching his plants grow. "But I don't think plants grow any faster in Israel," she says.
Is this any better than the proverbial watching paint dry? Two aspects, visual and auditory, save this thin, dry, austere documentary from being a sterile art piece and make it both thought-provoking and haunting, for those who have the patience to sit through it; many will not.
To begin with, screens filter the light of the windows in a beautiful way: the shots are often handsome, not unworthy of something by Hou Hsiau-hsien or Tsai Ming-liang, if without their human figures moving about.
Further, Ackerman's voice overs, spoken off-camera during the shots, though skimpy, provide fleetingly penetrating, brutally frank self-revelations and contexts that range from the personal to the universal. Her father was once going to emigrate to Israal just after WWII and was waiting in Marseille to go, but he was warned that the Palestine environment was too harsh. The family settled in Belgium instead. She speaks of an aunt who committed suicide. Is she herself depressed? She speaks of passivity and laziness. She may be agoraphobic. She clearly is going through an agoraphobic period. She may also be afraid of bombs. A parent calls and expresses concern about her going out to dangerous places; she promises she won't. She speaks of prisons, external and self-imposed: this is one of the latter kind.
People call and invite her out. She says she can't because she's working. This devotion to the enterprise makes something positive and substantial, even noble, about this otherwise evanescent, uncertain project. This is an act of painfully heightened self-consciousness, a self-examination, a journal both Zen-like and intensive. She also speaks of reading; making extensive notes; having "complex" thoughts. A certain ambivalence toward her Jewishness is also involved. Finally, with minimal means, Ackerman has forged something unique.
A telling image: a Chasidic family leaving the beach. The man, in his quaint outfit, symbolizes the oddity of the Israeli enterprise. Ackerman doesn't comment on the oppression of Palestinians or Israeli dependence on the US. Her seclusion in the middle of Israel's largest city may be comment enough. This is something she apparently can't be a part of. But in her alienation, she couldn't be more Jewish.
Down There Akerman I don’t feel like I belong, and that’s without real pain, or without pride. Pride happens. No I’m just disconnected from practically everything. I have a few uncles and sometimes I let them go, or they let me go. And I drift. That’s m...
(展开)
那里的短评 · · · · · · ( 全部 229 条 )
3 有用 沈念 看过 2023-03-12 22:16:54 上海
那一段快速的失控，镜头在上仰，心在俯冲。
16 有用 TWY 看过 2018-04-22 12:20:38
雷诺阿说镜头看向外界即代表了希望，但一个真正孤独的人，是无法给任何同类带来慰藉的，什么也不会发生，我们观者坐在同样封闭的房间里，无法接触到电影，连海洋也是又一堵墙，藏在镜头后的香特尔又一次说起自杀，又令人唏嘘。
8 有用 欢乐分裂 看过 2023-03-12 18:06:02 上海
其实要看到后半段才渐渐明白为何视角一直会躲匿于窗帘背后——这个房间是她的盔甲，也是她的牢笼，奥兹母亲的前例仿佛是应证了一道咒语或者是一剂预言，她无法挪动脚步去阳台远眺爆炸的发生地，自戕的念头如何渐渐成型凝固成实体状，真是好痛心啊；重复“我出生在布鲁塞尔”，然而她回到了特拉维夫，父辈的迁徙和现今的回归，是无法绕开的乡愁情绪，也是无法说服的槛——就像她最后终于来到室外，凝视着已然平静的海面。从室内望出... 其实要看到后半段才渐渐明白为何视角一直会躲匿于窗帘背后——这个房间是她的盔甲，也是她的牢笼，奥兹母亲的前例仿佛是应证了一道咒语或者是一剂预言，她无法挪动脚步去阳台远眺爆炸的发生地，自戕的念头如何渐渐成型凝固成实体状，真是好痛心啊；重复“我出生在布鲁塞尔”，然而她回到了特拉维夫，父辈的迁徙和现今的回归，是无法绕开的乡愁情绪，也是无法说服的槛——就像她最后终于来到室外，凝视着已然平静的海面。从室内望出去的框架构图中，左侧是邻居，右侧是自己，也是一种分屏，也是两个世界/空间的联结和对立。 (展开)
10 有用 一个文盲兔狲 看过 2018-01-15 11:27:30
所有阿克曼电影的母题是“God I hate the room where I got trapped so fucking much”. 他人的日常生活在百叶窗外，会更好么？她也不知道。一架接一架飞机飞过没影点。
1 有用 十一伏特 看过 2023-08-06 22:16:37 北京
阿克曼可能是被自己的身份标签禁锢，这次直接前往以色列暂住。二十五岁拍出毕生最伟大作品，三十五岁为筹款拍歌舞片绞尽脑汁，四十五岁已显灵感枯竭，五十五岁时只剩下望着窗外发呆，写一些日记随笔，用DV设备拍一些简陋的画面拼凑成90分钟。不理解她为何要用带很重口音的英语做旁白，查了下制片方依旧还是法国和比利时啊。 想到同样是波兰裔犹太人，波兰斯基在每个时代都能创作出经典之作，经历磨难远多于阿克曼。波兰斯基就... 阿克曼可能是被自己的身份标签禁锢，这次直接前往以色列暂住。二十五岁拍出毕生最伟大作品，三十五岁为筹款拍歌舞片绞尽脑汁，四十五岁已显灵感枯竭，五十五岁时只剩下望着窗外发呆，写一些日记随笔，用DV设备拍一些简陋的画面拼凑成90分钟。不理解她为何要用带很重口音的英语做旁白，查了下制片方依旧还是法国和比利时啊。 想到同样是波兰裔犹太人，波兰斯基在每个时代都能创作出经典之作，经历磨难远多于阿克曼。波兰斯基就能不局限于自己的身份，探索多种多样的题材。阿克曼的回顾展建议只放她在七十年代拍的那几部，就像戈达尔回顾展只放他六十年代中前期，给观众留下印象会更好。 (展开)