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.
好拉啊...怎么能做到20年前拍的好像今天拍的，而今天拍的好像20年前拍的...
white rabbit很燃！第一部都是小学看的了，看男女主时隔多年谈黄昏恋就感觉怪怪的…以及小乔现在都能当这么皮实的反派了！
整体感觉对话太多，打斗场面太少，缺乏前几部的紧凑感，勉强可以看看，更多的是怀旧加抒情居多，总体评分 2.95
与前作相差甚远 动作场景莫名拉胯 节奏也拖拖拉拉 情怀还是在的 致敬点都很让人心潮澎湃 最可惜的是老Smith没回来 不然还能涨一星
正统续作虽很难得，缺少野心，也失去了活力，仅作为三部曲多年之后的轻级余震。一味碰瓷式地自我怀旧，危机感没有，目的性没有，更别提想象与革新。影片内外都显得格外徒劳，因为三部曲已经是完整收场。★★★/6
基努•里维斯一出场，有种John Wick乱入《黑客帝国》的感觉。龌蹉斯基与华纳互撕，她赌气拍片显得很酷这种行为并不能给影片加分，因为即使她使出真本事，这部影片大概率也会扑街。至于现在这个科幻巨作被拍成了中年男人去营救已婚情人的狗血剧，估计也只有龌蹉斯基想得出来。
像一部拙劣的同人电影，连特效都显得那么廉价
若不是时隐时现的绿色代码，我总有看John Wick的错觉。我还是等那个出4吧。
很奇怪的感觉，说喜欢和不喜欢好像都不太准确…
炒冷饭炒得这么烂，以至于我在电影院如坐针毡度秒如年，导演现在是啥审美啊，造型一言难尽……尼奥终于发出气功的那一瞬间，电影院回荡着我不可置信的笑声……
拉娜·沃卓斯基放飞自我一般的对前作进行了自嘲，似乎想借此从前作的血统中割离开来，但是这种想法并被坚决地执行下去，一方面不断地利用既有的素材引导观众共鸣，另一方面又想要推翻“黑客帝国”三部曲祭奠的风格，结果就导致整部电影在严肃与娱乐之间左右摇摆，飘忽不定。这样的续作，立项之初就应被扼杀在摇篮里。
white rabbit很燃！第一部都是小学看的了，看男女主时隔多年谈黄昏恋就感觉怪怪的…以及小乔现在都能当这么皮实的反派了！
美人迟暮，英雄末路本就是人世间最残忍的事情，虽然我们经常能看到基努里维斯的近照，知道他过的并不那么好，但起码Neo这个角色在记忆中还是美好的。现在出来拍这么一部可能压根就没想好好拍的片子，只不过让观众徒增烦恼罢了……
好拉啊...怎么能做到20年前拍的好像今天拍的，而今天拍的好像20年前拍的...
3.5星 没期待的那么好看。开头的“这一切是真是假，是疯了还是的确是真实”还算蛮磨人的，感觉看完这部电影以后有许多精分要放弃治疗了。视觉体验上没什么新东西，通过粒子允许虚拟人进入现实的表现方法稍微有点不尽如人意。飞不起来的Neo还是让人笑了一下，就像只肥猫努力蹦跶了一下一样。
就算穿插原作还是记不得剧情 大部分电影对于我来说就是这样子…电视剧的话我肯定记得 = =…浑浑噩噩地看完了 下一个……不过很开心的是看到了很多超感的演员 BJS我老公
这……只能说是粉丝大电影，那我还不如去看Sense8
依然有一些还算不错的场景设计和特效画面，但并没有出现特别新鲜的内容。只有一场戏，一群人从高楼上跳下往地上摔的场景看起来还挺酷的。
的确是另辟蹊径（套娃式）的续集重启，不过就这么玩经典场面cos串烧吃老本吃到嗨，也无怪落得个粉丝不买账、路人一脸懵的局面，两位主演也被岁月镌刻得疲态尽显。。
基努怎么一点也没变！故事越来越复杂！经典！
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