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.
是公式化笑点的堆砌，而不是幽默。赞同羊老师说的像周星驰，但是在我看来是一次拙劣模仿：周星驰电影的内核是悲，而《雄狮少年》的内核是逻辑点仍存在问题的套路化热血，给我的感受是在“完成剧本创作”而不是“真正塑造故事人物”。观影过程中起了两次鸡皮疙瘩，一次是由于前期略显蹩脚的台词和配音，一次是由于突兀的摇滚配乐。动画质量参差不齐，但是舞狮部分的动画是手k的，辛苦了。
这题材还得后配的粤语版，难道没有粤语版直接在岭南地区上映吗？最后各个队伍一起击鼓的时候，有点奥运会跳高比赛最后运动员一起加油看破纪录的感觉。
对工地的打工生活、街井人物，都是不加修饰的白描，鼓点和舞狮、少年人的奔跑，则是浓墨重彩的渲染。木棉和热带的阳光，画面的美好扑面而来。有一些尴尬的句子，尤其少年不断背诵李白的句子问李白错了吗的时候，可能是我最出戏的时刻，毕竟当代网络文学的文化素质的天花板就是背唐诗，没想到动画片也这样子。
情节发展很容易猜到，但就算猜到也一样能把你看哭，怎么做到的，实在太厉害了。
一直偏好的水墨写意风，竟然在片头就惊现，对正片既有了期待也有一丝怀疑。当一只写实的猫跳到正片的脚踏车少年视角后，逐步被剧情牵动了，无论是场景还是配乐等细节，都透着浓郁的南粤之风，简单的嬉笑怒骂，泪流得稀里哗啦。即使反派的恶意有些脸谱化，贫困落后的窘境也许要退回几年才不觉浮夸，但终归是超出预期的燃呀！
最后结尾落点太棒了，当他打算跳擎天柱，大家开始一起打鼓，我还在想，不行啊不能跳上去啊。很好，超现实镜头出现，阿娟落入水中，最后狮头落在最高点，太棒了。人生可以尝试翻越最高的那一座山，但是一山比一山高，总有一座山是上不去的，上山，下山，我们都还需要学习。女阿娟角色的设定也蛮好的，女性身份让她没那么自由的舞狮，而少年也顶着阿娟这个名字，跳上高点，这个时候，性别不重要，心中有雄狮才是最重要的。
听说广东仔眼睛都长这样...配合人教版教材做意识形态渗透？姓孙的，我祝你后代全长人教版数学书里那样
很高興看到中國動畫質感一步一腳印的越來越成熟。
在格式化的国漫剧情中难得有现实主义刻画的故事，口号性质的对白略多了一点，练出了肌肉的阿娟好帅！整体是不错的但不至于惊喜，只能说还是有诚意的。动画制作水平和配乐是最大的亮点，and很开心这是第一部跟小刘一起看的电影，所以给四颗星！
简直比脑残偶像网剧还难看… 三分钟猜到结局，情节从头至尾极其俗套，一处亮点都没有。剧本各种硬伤，槽多无口。男主冲着咸鱼师傅一顿吼李白的时候，我脸都抽了。披着带点中国元素的壳子，制作内核完全欧美模式。都什么年头了，还有这么生硬的“热血励志”… “你可是被木棉花砸中的男人” 🤢
不仅极为少见地选取了一个现实题材，更难能可贵地达成了一部剧情与技术同等精彩的国产动画电影。音乐、方言、民俗、市井共同构筑起亲切的烟火人间，带有70后80后烙印的年代曲目成为生动的背景板。虽不再是神话题材，但将有武有艺的舞狮展现得形神俱妙、光彩瑰丽，骨子里依然有中国式的神奇与浪漫。这部电影配得上“永远少年，永远热泪盈眶”之语，热血燃情，蓬勃而出的少年心志足以触发任何年龄的共鸣。
【A】
第一个惊喜：非常标准的好莱坞情节点动画片。第二个惊喜：关注底层，关注民俗和传统，和九连真人真的非常配！
很私心，后三十分钟绷不住了，还有我好喜欢师母这种媳妇呜呜呜，哭哭哭哭哭呜呜呜
浸染了周星驰和香港电影的庶民翻身基因，以及日本漫画的热血精魂，但留守的舞狮少年才是让本片独秀于林的核心，在一众科幻和神话题材中脱颖而出。开场伴着《道山靓仔》的少年穿梭于小镇的一段长镜头，结尾雄狮跃起后《莫欺少年穷》的前奏鼓点响起。两首歌首尾呼应堪称凤头豹尾，来自底层的生命力破壳而出。最后重生的雄狮现于佛陀，热血之后竟留下一丝禅意。影片后半段有无数泪点，但最让我破防的，是阿娟在离家去广州打工的公车上，响起椅子合唱团的一段词：“我们的世代，把厌世当一种习惯。或许这个世界，没什么值得期待，但那都与我无关。我是一个飞翔的笨蛋，人生本来该是一场狂欢”。
“雄关漫道真如铁，而今迈步从头越”
硬伤主要是台词设计，经常忽然飙出那些“气势万丈”的励志性语言是不自然的，包括其他舞狮队里的人的“恶”，都是有些违和的。直到男主父亲因为受伤突然回家，终于转向了一个更真实心酸的中国故事，那些在工厂工地里封闭着没有钟点干活的青少年，小时候是村里老人带的留守儿童，十几岁就要出去打工挣钱了，片中设定男主十八岁出门，实际上在两千零几年那个时间有很多未成年冒充成年进了工厂。最难得的就是这点吧，男主做了舞狮英雄，最终还是要进入残酷的现实社会，有好感的城里女生也不会因此和你一个打工仔在一起，只有美国动画才有那样“完美”的个人英雄主义，而这“不完美”的结局是属于中国自己的故事
文本和音乐跳脱出商业用法，告五人、九连真人深度服务于剧情的方言歌词自带地区文化色彩；从广播里的少年强则国强，到挨打后听到的红日初升其道大光，最后内化成腾跃时的雄狮腾渊鳞爪飞扬。
电影不错，虽然俗套，但还是被感动了。男主角还是好看的，代表中国少年，并不丢人。男二号（高瘦那个）是有点其貌不扬，但角色设定本来就是个被人欺负的弱鸡，也不用长得太好看吧，没必要主角配角所有人都好看，那种影视剧也挺假的，而且他的五官和神态真的有点像早期的林忆莲（当然林忆莲要漂亮很多），无论如何这种长相都不算辱华，不然林忆莲就没法来内地演出了。再退一步，即便是不太好看的那个男孩，真的看了电影的话，也不会觉得他丑，因为他的坚持、真诚和勇敢会慢慢让人肃然起敬。只凭一帧截图，恶意煽动民族情绪，无端中伤中国电影，这种行为才更令人不齿吧！
可惜没有IMAX
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