故园风雨后

这电影拍得很精致，而且有力量。

看完感觉好爽，剧情发展的漂漂亮亮！

这电影营造了几个漂亮的冲突点。

先是中产阶层的男主Charles遇到了贵族Sebastian，惊奇于贵族生活与庄园的美。

当然一开始内心免不了自嗨于和贵族交上朋友的那种虚荣，但Charles最关心的还是庄园里艺术品与景色的美而不是如何跻身上流社会。

之后对Sebastian妹妹Julia的一见钟情的爱贯穿了全片。

而后Charles发现Sebastian家是严格的天主教家庭，然而自己是无神论者。

这里同性恋的Sebastian和他母亲的抗争与叛逆格外凄惨，当然还有宗教横在男女主角之间的隔阂。

其次由于妻子的过于虔诚而跑掉的Sebastian的父亲也侧面体现了这个家庭的矛盾之深刻。

电影里的人都挺看得开，付出真心要得真意。

Sebastian父亲对妻子付出很多，但受不了妻子全心投入天主教而逃去别的女人怀抱。

Sebastian发现Charles爱的是自己妹妹便躲避他，出走到摩洛哥时知道Charles还是不爱自己便选择留下。

后来，他当了一名医院看门人，留在了摩洛哥。

主人公与女主角的爱情不可谓不坎坷，他们因Sebastian相识。

Charles对Julia绝对是一见钟情，目光几乎时刻不离。

Julia也终究醉心于Charles的英俊外表与为人。

但Julia与Charles之间障碍重重。

先是家境悬殊，又是宗教问题，但真正困扰他们的是Sebastian。

Julia说过她之所以和那个粗俗的富商结婚首先是因为他不是Charles，她不是Sebastian爱的人。

四年过去了，Charles功成名就，一跃成为大画家、Sebastian已经离去、Julia极度虔诚的母亲也已经去世。

当Charles与Julia重逢，干柴烈火即将熊熊燃烧之际，那些似乎已经飘远的障碍依旧投下了致命的阴影。

Charles一直渴望Julia的爱，渴望纯粹的爱，渴望心心相接。

当Julia用丈夫对Charles的侮辱攻击Charles，说他追求Julia为的是庄园的遗产时，Charles的心已经被伤了。

但这还不够，Charles依旧认为他们可以摆脱过去重新开始，他们还在找城市重新开始人生。

但最后，Julia父亲死前在胸前画的十字与Julia一脸的满足犹如当头一棒。

无论如何拼命反抗，但往昔的一切早已渗透入骨。

这一刻，Charles看到Julia满足的脸，最终意识自己要得太多了。

他要Julia放下贵族意识，放下天主教的限制。

他看到了到Julia与自己的隔阂从来就在他们两人之间，而不是因为他人。

他终是觉得Julia没有全身心爱自己。

Charles知道自己终究不能像Julia前夫一样结婚前更改信仰，他要的是纯粹的爱，而不是不择手段去获得利益。

最后男主说我希望你伤心，我认为说的是我希望你为我付出过真心。

这个影片讲了一个道理，如果你不能放下一切跟我爱，那就说拜拜。

看完长叹一口气。。

就，为什么会这样？？

andrew davies和jeremy brock也搞得出滥本子阿orzcasting超级寒，英俊的小马修（再次表扬我家老头的掘美才华-赛末点里此人就叫我惊艳）首次亮相就分明比塞巴斯蒂安一家门都更像有钱人。。

塞同学呢居然还不如他自己怀里揣着的那头熊，当然，那熊已经相当不堪。。

船上的搞戏也乏善可陈害得我足足打了6个哈欠（抖）伊夫林沃白白写得那么聪明。

太叫人怨念了这一部。。

哪天有空定要翻出原著或者BBC剧集复习以便排毒。

改编之后，Charles和Sebastian的暧昧的感情更为露骨直接，而Charles对Sebastian的冷淡简直人神共愤。

原本C之后追求Julia有很大一部分是对S的追思和怀念，而现在只是变成了一种野性的冲动。

如果要强化爱情的情节，影片不该如此肤浅地用老套的三角恋来叙述，更不该浓墨重彩地描摹C和J之间的情欲，最后也只不过是两幅画作，赤裸裸的金钱交易而已。

如果始终只是关于宗教，S的离去应该只是离开母亲的暴政，而不是S的背叛。

如果只是关于C内心的欲望，那未免Matthew也演得太无辜，毕竟是一个“只有上帝能给你所要的”的人。

可惜影片时间太短，而这三条主线都必须详述，于是我看到的故事是这样的：Charles是个像《红与黑》中于连一般有着隐秘抱负的人，Sebastian的一家本来因为天主教的信仰摇摇欲坠，而Charles无疑给了这个家庭最后一刀。

在威尼斯，Sebastian父亲的情妇曾好心暗示Charles处理好和S以及J的感情问题，然而，Charles还是伤透了Sebastian的心，致使其终日酗酒。

S其实是无比聪明的，他早早洞穿C不会为他所动，然而却弱弱带着一点飘渺的幻想。

当他在堕落的过程中，C非但没有试图拯救他，反而放任自流，并残忍地让S对之存有幻想。

最终导致S离家出走。

数年后重逢，S也只是无怨无悔。

C对于J的所谓的感情，只是纯粹的欲望而已。

宗教，只是催赶着悲剧发生的步伐，因为Charles的出现在庄园，就是悲剧的开始。

于是看了这么一部电影，谁能不胸闷不憎恶Matthew Goode饰演的Charles这个角色。

好不容易通过A Single Man培养了点对这个演员的好感，Match Point里几乎没有演技可言，这部电影里他又饰演如此一个不讨喜的主角，真是胸闷得要命。

期待Leap Year能让我心情好一点。

我喜欢这部电影。

讲到底这部电影是关于拯救与被拯救的问题。

尽管对原著致命的改编让整部电影常常被人诟病为将深刻的主题浅化为bisexual love story。

查尔斯想把塞巴斯蒂安从酗酒与糜烂的生活中拯救出来，但最终他还是将喝酒的钱给了塞巴斯蒂安；他想把茱莉亚从失败的婚姻和宗教的禁锢中拯救出来，但最终他还是失败告终；他甚至想在侯爵弥留之际为他争取不受洗礼的权利，但最终侯爵还是用颤巍巍的手划了十字。

查尔斯就是活得太过明白，他有笃定的人生宗旨，想要将所有人都纳入自己认可的生活轨迹中去。

他明明是布赖兹赫德庄园的客人，在入驻的一刹那开始就把自己作为救世主自居，在无神论的他看来，家庭里的每一个人都是受着宗教的束缚，都等待着他来拯救。

在电影里查尔斯和侯爵夫人闹翻的酒会上，侯爵夫人用一种痛苦的、难以言说的费解神态望着查尔斯，她念叨着你是那么好的孩子，为什么这样对我的塞巴斯蒂安呢。

而查尔斯也用无可理解的眼神回视着他，似乎不明白这个母亲为什么还不知道是自己将塞巴斯蒂安推入自我毁灭的深渊。

然而其实他们两个又是互相理解的，在原著里说，“就这样，我和茱莉亚和马奇梅因夫人都僵持住了，这倒不是因为我们之间互不理解，而是因为我们理解得太充分了。

”查尔斯太喜欢他们家了，喜欢塞巴斯蒂安，喜欢茱莉亚，喜欢幺妹克迪莉娅，（就像塞巴斯蒂安之前担心的一样，“我不愿意你和我的家人在一起。

我们家里的人漂亮得叫人神魂颠倒，在我的一生中，我家的人把我的东西都拿走了。

一旦他们的迷人力量抓住了你，他们就会把你变成他们的朋友，不再是我的朋友了，我不允许他们这样做。

”一语成谶。

）他想将他们纳入自己的生活范畴里去。

然而拉扯的力量是侯爵夫人。

他们互相了解，侯爵夫人清楚这个年轻的无神论者分明是想将她的几个儿女从宗教中抽离解放出来，她对他一直怀着敌意，只不过从未显露出来。

电影中，查尔斯和侯爵夫人的博弈一直在潜伏着剑拔弩张。

查尔斯在门缝里看到侯爵夫人与塞巴斯蒂安的对话，塞一直颤抖着流泪，最后低下头去，似乎是被一种羞愧和悔恨击中了的表情。

查尔斯诧异地看着这样的画面，应该是被母子之间掌控与被掌控、欲逃脱又不能的关系震惊到。

还有一次，查尔斯又是在门外看见侯爵夫人在帮茱莉亚整理华服，侯爵夫人先望向他，随即茱莉亚也望向他，他在前者灼灼的盯视下收回了目光。

查尔斯应该一直以为自己是可以战胜侯爵夫人的，直到她过世后，他亲眼目睹那个一生放荡不羁、拒绝与夫人同居一室的侯爵，在死前最后一刻还是做出了妥协。

那个时候电影来到了高潮，他也第一次真正意识到，他永远无可战胜这一家人，他想拯救的是幻觉，是虚空，没有人愿意被他拯救。

此时电影里给了他一个特写，难以置信的表情，随即是席卷而来的痛心，失望，最终不得不放弃。

他与茱莉亚站在圣母像前，他说，我要你的心碎掉，然而他又立即接上一句，“但我能理解。

” 他花费那么多年，终于能够“理解”。

他站着，场景迅速变换到二战期间，庄园被军队驻扎占领，圣母像被盖上，他变得苍老，穿着军装，再一次在同一个地方反省。

“我到底要什么？

” 这是茱莉亚曾经大声质问他的问题，“到底什么是查尔斯莱德要的？

” 他犹豫地想着，“是不是我要的太多？

” 他恍恍惚惚地往门外走着，看着曾经和塞巴斯蒂安嬉戏过的阳光水池变成废墟一片。

他似乎已经确定了心中的答案。

他确实要的太多，有人说电影将他改编成一心向上爬的凤凰男了，其实电影里没有说他对荣华富贵是多么渴望，对于布赖兹赫德庄园的迷恋，也最多只反映在他无数次用画笔画下它的景色。

对于物质的描写实则极少，在他作为画家成名后，他依旧是对自己的事业打理毫无头绪，都倚靠他的妻子。

所以说他要的太多，如果是要钱财地位，未免有失公允。

他要的是更加虚幻的渺远的对人的掌控罢了。

他一开始对塞巴斯蒂安是羡慕，羡慕他放荡不羁的生活和人生哲学，但是当他被带入庄园后，他发现的是华美袍子下的虱子，他便开始想要改造这一家人，拯救这一家人了，作为这一群漂亮的人的主人翁，刷存在感。

这才是他想要的太多的部分。

要的太多，这也是塞巴斯蒂安在电影里最后一次出现时的台词。

他在摩洛哥，骨瘦如柴，剃光了头发，穿着如苦行僧一般。

查尔斯来见他，对他说，我想你。

他看破红尘地勉强牵动嘴角，“It's nice of you to say that”，但是，他早就明白了，看穿了这只不过是他想带他回去，再次与其他人干涉他人生的美妙说辞而已，他直戳重点，“可能是我对你要的太多了吧。

” 其实要的不多，他只要他的爱，然而没有，那就无须再费心费神地假装关心想念我了罢。

-正经影评到此结束，接下来全部夸小本，节操全无Ben Whishaw，我男神，我心中偶像，我梦中情人，我的所有旧爱与新欢，我的全部初恋与末恋，我精神上的未婚夫（某外国专栏作家云），我肉体上的导师【滚。

有中国女粉丝在伦敦剧场外见到小本，送他一份画着他演出过所有角色的卡通漫画，问他最喜欢哪个，他毫不犹豫地点了塞巴斯蒂安。

即使这部电影不能算作杰出的作品（因为对原著糟糕的改编），但是塞巴斯蒂安应该能算得上他演艺生涯里值得停顿的一个好角色（可能是因为这是电影对原著改动最少的，还原度最高的角色），有时候我甚至会把他本人和塞巴斯蒂安联系在一起。

脆弱的，敏感的，美丽的，杰作。

塞巴斯蒂安是一个怎么样的人呢，在电影开头，他的出场让查尔斯看直了眼，穿着蓝色的西服，戴着礼帽，一手搂着阿洛伊修斯，一手举着酒杯，仰着头，从河上缓缓滑过。

张扬的，又沉浸在自己的世界里，窄小的脸，刀削的下颚。

查尔斯被吸引住了，站在桥上，忍不住微笑地凝视着他。

换作谁都会觉得这是一场一见钟情的邂逅吧，为什么导演把查尔斯又逻辑不通地给改成了异性恋呢？！

烧死异性恋啊混蛋！

在小说里，塞巴斯蒂安的初次登场是一个侧写，查尔斯在理发室偶遇他和他的大玩具熊。

理发师评价道，“塞巴斯蒂安弗莱特少爷，一位非常有趣的青年绅士。

”而查尔斯的回应则是冷冷的“显然是的。

” 理发师又道，“你猜塞巴斯蒂安来干什么？

来给他的玩具熊要一把发刷，鬃毛要很硬的，不是用来梳熊毛，而是在他生气时用发刷打熊的屁股以吓唬它。

”此时脑海中瞬间出现了本猫猫一手提起泰迪熊的腿，一手用鬃毛发刷抽打它的屁股的样子。

嘤，这是萌的极致，萌的巅峰，萌的无可超越。

查尔斯和塞巴斯蒂安的第二次见面，是塞巴斯蒂安直接吐在了查尔斯的窗台上。

尽管是这样放肆的不可思议的行为，小说里的查尔斯还是觉得“塞巴斯蒂安在无路可走的时候选择了一扇开着的窗户，这样做带有一种疯狂和可爱的有条不紊的风度”。

这是什么样的情怀，这是忠犬攻的情怀，这是痴汉的情怀。

为什么导演你最后又把查尔斯给弄成了一个忘恩负义的渣攻呢？

昂？

昂？

人性呢？！

尊重原著的精髓在哪里呢？

有人会诟病小本的塞巴斯蒂安太过女性化（甚至娘娘腔），不如1981年版的电视剧里AA演的童真，像个真正的孩子气小少爷。

这可真的是太冤，原著里明确的给塞巴斯蒂安一句定性般的描述，“他是迷人的，带着女性美，这是一种极端年轻的美，高唱着情歌，遇到头一阵寒风就凋谢了”，女性美直接被点了出来，在小说里他最后一次登场于摩洛哥的时候，那个德国人很明显就是他的男友（尽管查尔斯在塞的哥哥面前矢口否认了），他的同性恋倾向呼之欲出，只差没点明。

加之他是一直处于被母亲掌控的小儿子，脆弱又敏感，一种柔美的气质，我觉得小本展现得恰到好处。

这段对他的外貌描写，出现在查尔斯第一次赴宴的时候，他进了房间，塞巴斯蒂安在剥鸟蛋，他没有起身欢迎他，也没有向他打招呼问好之类的，而是在剥鸟蛋，对他讲的第一句话也令人摸不着头脑极了，根本就不应该是初次见面或赔礼道歉场合应该讲的开场白，他说，“我刚刚数了一下，每人五个蛋，还多两个，因此我正在吃多出的两个。

今天我饿极了。

昨晚我拼命喝着两种名牌酒，酩酊大醉，醉得使我觉得昨晚的一切仿佛是个梦。

请别弄醒我。

”就像是自言自语，没头没脑的一句话。

然而最后一句却又像是贯穿整部小说的呓语，“请别弄醒我”。

查尔斯这个渣渣最后还是弄醒了他，弄醒了一个养尊处优、敏感纤细的贵公子绮丽美妙的酣梦。

塞巴斯蒂安给查尔斯的第一封信多么有趣啊，“我很后悔。

阿洛伊修斯要看见我被你饶恕了才会理我。

因此，今天我请你吃午饭。

” 还是没头没脑的，他默认了对方知道阿洛伊修斯是他的泰迪熊，默认了对方知道他的地址，他是何方神圣。

他就是活在自己世界里的小孩子，被全家人保护得太完好，又觉得束缚禁锢极了，和安东尼这类放浪形骸的公子们混迹在一起。

然而小说里写，当他认识查尔斯之后，他就再也不怎么理其他的朋友了。

看到这个描述的时候，我心里难受起来，塞巴斯蒂安一定以为自己是找到了真正对的人，才会放弃了其他那些泛泛之交，然而其实对他来说，查尔斯并不是对的人。

查尔斯在赴宴前听到心里有一种声音让他不要去，显然是作者埋下的伏笔，因为在未来的日子里查尔斯会发现，就因为一次赴宴，他终身都被塞巴斯蒂安身后的庄园牵引控制。

其实塞巴斯蒂安何尝不会后悔这一次见面。

他们两个都有点一见彼此误终身的意思。

电影里唯一一处改编是特别好的是查尔斯去摩洛哥见塞巴斯蒂安，后者已经疾病缠身，落魄如此，然而还是不忘缓缓转过头，对他此生最爱的人说一句忠告，“Run,run far away。

” 那时候，人生无法摆脱的诡谲飘渺的宿命感油然而生，每个人明明都是自由的，但是却又受到无形的羁绊，就像小说里那个关于风筝的隐喻。

小本真是瘦，瘦出了风格，瘦出了气质。

每次他坐在浴缸里，下棋也好，抽烟也好，什么也不做就是红着眼圈颓唐地摇摇晃晃地从里面站起来也好，就是好看，就是优雅，就是萌。

看见他和查尔斯在黄昏的草坪上，查尔斯坐着画画，他就这么斜斜地靠在他身边，一个漂亮的侧影，那个时候才真的叫“岁月静好”。

在夕阳台阶下，他吻了查尔斯一下，随即收回，眼睛紧紧地盯着前方，不敢侧视旁边的人，举着酒杯的手有点僵，他低头，抿嘴，微笑，整个动作就像一帧优美的舞蹈动作。

那时候多么美好，一想到查尔斯之后就渣化，就想冲进电影里给他一千六百八十多个大嘴巴。

在威尼斯，他穿着喧嚣豪华的锦服，最后落寞归去，在查尔斯还试图解释的时候，他湮没在黑暗中的脸转过来，侧脸隐隐约约的，失望与悲怆淅淅沥沥地从他眼神里流淌出来。

他用一根手指轻轻地盖住了查尔斯的嘴唇，然后用一种我至今无法用语言形容的欲说还休的眼神最后充满爱意与恨意地看了查尔斯一眼，黯然离开。

一个简单的场景，被小本演出了百转愁肠出来，那一场戏里他眼睛里分明有雾，这还不算厉害——人们能辨别出是一种悲伤的雾气，那才叫厉害。

总之我真的爱死小本了。

尽管这不是他演技最爆发的电影，但是通过这部片子爱上他也太容易了吧。

尤其是看幕后花絮和接受访问，他自带猫耳的发型，他迷迷糊糊的回答，他一脸没睡醒的傲娇表情，他热得用手扇了扇风的动作——啊，此时我的节操已经溺死在他的一举一动一颦一笑间，请不要打捞了！

董桥说这个名字过于滥情，我偏不这样认为。

《旧地重游》是好名字，可是过于隐忍的翻译大多数中国读者对本来就隔了一层的文字更多生疏。

故园，风雨，后，都是Brideshead大厦将倾的活生生的写照，就像一样隐忍的曹雪芹，写了石头记，最后流传的名字还是红楼梦。

一个梦字，道尽人生沧海桑田，变幻莫测。

这不是小时代的爱情故事，这是建立在大时代的断壁残垣上的追忆。

就像Sarah Waters的《小小陌生人》，初看是个鬼故事，其实不过是没落英国鬼魂而已。

那些富丽堂皇的园林、喷泉、古代雕塑、柔情蜜意的青春，原来都不过是梦一场而已，由于知道最后的结果，所以看的时候就分外惊心动魄，仿佛那些都是易碎的陶瓷，越美就越令人心碎。

比起1981年BBC电视剧版，我觉得差别比较大的是萨巴斯蒂安，原著中最丰满、最纯洁，也最引人同情的人物。

1981年的演员显然更有贵族气质，那不是现在的忧郁小文青可以装出来的，虽然新版的演员是那么瘦那么忧郁——电视剧版的演员即使在古早的模糊不清的画面中，也显得那么光彩夺目。

估计短评写不完。

1.个人感觉基本靠萨巴斯蒂安的演员在撑。

忘记他的名字，但知道很不错，演过香水，以及新版007的q博士。

其它演员比如母亲，还有男主角，都很眼熟的，但都不如萨巴斯蒂安。

姐姐那个脸很生硬。

有点珍珠港女主角的风格。

前期扮嫩时，一直顶着假发短发——其实真剪过那个发型就会知道，会软塌塌。

日本风的服装。

父亲也该是有名的演员吧。

还有姐夫就是《绝望主妇》里面那个坏警察啊。

2.那个大房子是不是唐顿庄园？

个人比较喜欢的是外面的湖水，几个空中镜头感觉像梯田。

3.剧本应该很好，台词有些很精彩。

比如品酒的那些，想要截图。

4.道具和场景也很费心——但有点过。

或许因此总感觉哪里有点空洞，华丽而空洞。

或许是导演的功力略有欠缺吧，总差点火候。

这个故事在大屏幕影院里看看应该很过瘾。

5.还特意去威尼斯和摩洛哥取景。

两个地方我都去过。

威尼斯的房子绝对有用到古根海姆博物馆的那个宅子。

6.男主角的老婆挺无辜的。

7.为什么老大哥一直没有结婚，母亲却不担心？

急吼吼把女儿嫁出去。

而且宅子又不是她继承的，她担心什么男主角为了得到房子。

8.那个美好的夏天。

似水流年。

游园惊梦般。

此刻太美好，太知道留不住。

不知如何是好。

－－－－写完自己的直观感受后再去从他人的观点里学习。

才知道前世今生。

果然是好小说好底子，拍得力不那么从心。

由此也打算看看此书。

希望有好翻译。

——————“他是迷人的，带着女性美，这是一种极端年轻的美，高唱着情歌，遇到头一阵寒风就凋谢了。

” 　　　　原著里查尔斯这样形容塞巴斯蒂安的美。

－－－－所以他胸前别着牡丹花。

非常和谐。

高中时看过杰瑞米爱恩斯的电视剧版。

看风格就觉得是小说改编的，就去图书馆英美文学的架子上一本本的翻，翻到了，伊夫林·沃的原著《旧地重游》，搞了一本。

又到处去找电视剧的录影带，没找到。

时隔多年，最近才发现世界上有了一种叫做电驴的好东西，于是去下，顺便下到了新拍不久的电影版。

多么糟糕的电影版啊，不但改变了叙事的顺序（这非常重要，这一改变不但使得茱莉亚比塞巴斯蒂安先出场，而且使故事成为了“插叙中的倒叙”的古怪结构），更重要的是，这个神经病编剧，居然篡改了非常重要的情节。

比如自作聪明的给塞巴斯蒂安和查尔斯弄了一场吻戏，比如茱莉亚神奇的出现在威尼斯之旅中，更要命的是编剧还天才的加了一场塞巴斯蒂安看到查尔斯吻茱莉亚的戏，然后紧接着的就是塞巴斯蒂安酗酒的场景。

这不是逼着观众误以为塞巴斯蒂安是因为查尔斯的“移情别恋”才开始酗酒的吗？

编剧到底把原著中的宗教主线置于何处？

居然把“查尔斯赖德上尉的渎神回忆”（原著的副标题）变成低劣可笑的“画家与贵族兄妹的三角恋情”……太怒了！

原著中后半部可以理解为查尔斯一直在其他人身上补完塞的形象，寻找与其有关的消息、他的家族、尤其是他的信仰……同时自己也慢慢历经人生的风雨从一个不可知论者变成一个天主教徒。

当然也可以有别的更透彻的理解。

虽然因为时代、环境、地位、宗教信仰等原因，我永远都无法真正理解这本书中表现的感情，但我还是不能接受电影版这种，因为自己不能理解那种宗教情怀，不能理解塞巴斯蒂安拥有一切（包括查尔斯的爱）却无法控制的自毁情结，就自以为是的改变原著情节，把自毁的原因变成傻子也会说理解的爱情受挫……电影版已经不是《旧地重游》了。

当然，它也不是一无是处，电影版里演塞巴斯蒂安的演员（小本）非常漂亮，就像原著说的“他是迷人的，带着女性美，高唱着情歌，遇到第一阵寒风就凋谢了。

”

讨论家族、世袭与荣耀、国运与家运，是英国佬各类文艺作品的热衷话题。

这个至今仍保留议会君主立宪制的古老国家，有王室贵族的《王冠》、《唐顿庄园》，却更热衷光鲜外表下的情欲横流：《傲慢与偏见》《理智与情感》《安娜·卡列尼娜》...... 这无不是人人称羡的主儿，住在庄园城堡，家有良驹仆人百十。

我对一切礼仪或具有身份代表的着装都无性欲，讨厌社会符号落在个人身上的感觉，例如贵族服饰、婚纱礼服、宫廷朝服。

但想起跟学古筝的女生，讨论对于古风服饰古风乐器的无欲望感，她说，禁欲系不也是一种欲望嘛。

这样一想，此话不假，没有比深宅大院宗教礼仪更为禁欲，下至金雀花王朝，上至温莎王朝，无不举止端庄家法森严。

可百姓热衷的野史故事，大都是一人一家一族在自筑的高台中，蔓延千百公里的欲望。

愈是深宫高墙，愈是求而不得欲盖弥彰，愈引起幻想，疯狂的幻想。

情爱在深宫里尤为刺激，红杏出高墙更羡煞旁人。

欲望，也是《故园风雨后》的核心。

我曾说过笔直的欲望线，有一种极致的美感。

《故园风雨后》同为英国产物，可不同于裴淳华，在133分钟内插入了过多的欲望。

这个出生于伦敦中产阶级的Charles，进入牛津，遇到贵族家庭的Sebastian后形影不离，一步步走入布莱希尔德庄园，走入这家族的荣耀与欲望。

最终跟随时代，完成了作为新资产阶级的登台露脸。

可幽默的是此时二战告急，Charles被迫参战，回到了这座已被征用的布莱希尔德庄园。

物是人非，目送家族走向衰亡，却又露出了云淡风轻背后的羡慕。

若无法理解这宿命般的驱动力和迷惘，就无从得知这个男孩，如何一步步面对自己的核心，走向欲望的深渊。

“What does Charles Ryder really want?” 布莱希尔德庄园里的每个人物，都代言着自己的欲望。

可爱的Sebastian渴求自由，女儿Julia向往奋不顾身的爱情，一家之长的母亲只要信仰，外来女婿Rex只爱金钱和地位。

而Charles不同，他什么都想要，可每个欲望都不够纯粹。

Sebastian满足了他的友情、他的特殊性；恋上Julia也不止是男女情爱，更包括暗藏的阶级欲望、自我价值的实现。

可没人能指责他是一个伪君子。

得知Sebastian病重，Charles奔赴摩洛哥看他。

这个罗马天主教男孩正安身于伊斯兰教堂修养，白墙绿瓦，Charles从树影里来。

他们交谈，Sebastian却说，过去是自己想要的太多了。

的确，Charles对Sebastian的情感绝非逢场作戏，于Julia的爱意也不是露水情缘，可Charles从未承诺过，一个永恒的夏天，一座不老的威尼斯。

辗转多年后，他借助妻子成为了社会新贵。

可这推动着他的欲望却不断侵蚀，连最初的一抹真诚也不给留下。

重遇Julia，又情不知所起，牵着手就要回去离婚，要私奔。

可是遇到位高一级的Rex，究竟泄了气，把感情做成了交易。

黑暗之中，站在壁炉边面对Julia的疑问，他终于坦诚：“I，Charles Ryder，I wanted too much”这欲望，这隐匿的暗流，像是寄生虫控制宿主，像是资本毫无退路。

既是祝福又是诅咒，它带领Charles向前，不断利用、牺牲其他欲望。

时过境迁，他终于跟豪门站在了一起，膨胀地要把象征旧资本的庄园也据为己有，最终一切轰然倒塌。

我知道，欲望的纯粹，并不一定左右达成目标的概率。

这世间既有冷酷的欲望执行者，如《天才瑞普利》《消失的爱人》；也有被欲望折磨的Charles Ryder。

我曾说电影不像人生，人生太长，容不下太少的欲望。

于是我羡慕这些活在电影里的人，羡慕裴淳华，羡慕榆野卯月。

再看《故园风雨后》，才意识自己竟与Charles如此相似。

一生以来都以为正走向光明的康庄大道，而事实上，欲望才是我的指南针。

但又能做什么呢，人生不过是《萨马拉城之约》：每个人都试图从巴格达逃离，奔赴萨马拉，披星戴月，还是会发现死神就在街角等你。

树影之间，城堡之下，Charles穿过花园走过绿地，每一片叶子每朵鲜花露水都在他身上停留。

可回头，一切都无法永恒。

战火中，重返布莱希尔德庄园，忆往事，真正动容的。

不过是跟Sebastian度过的夏天，阳光下的海滩，Julia的吻。

那是远超欲望的人生箴言，那是纯粹的爱，是信仰、友情、是圣约翰保罗教堂、葡萄酒与落日庄园。

那是无法掐灭的火焰，是生命最本质的光辉与美。

“I've loved and lost for more than one lifetime.” 如此，他说。

希望我们都快乐 都快乐；）

Guilt. Conscious. Religion. Love. Loyalty. Hatred. When we call back the loved and lost ones, does the memory hurt? Or do we drown ourselves in emotions we used as excuses? Actions are actions, and sometimes even weaker than words. These boundaries are so vicious and man-made, dying in those times when we were ashamed of bodies melting and were veiled in the mystery of light awakening. One couldn’t possibly imagine what it would be like to live in another time, to be the watcher of a remembered history. But does one realize his own existence when drifting along the flow of time? Does anyone have the perception into where they are or who they are? Is it really a matter of beliefs? Or searching for a belief? Is it, after all, about living, and living to die? Shall we visit that afternoon at Brideshead?

Charles (Matthew Goode): If you asked me now, who I am the only answer I could give for certain would be my name, Charles Ryder. For the rest, my loves, my hates, down even to my deepest desires I can no longer say whether these emotions are my own or stolen from those I once so desperately wished to be. On second thought, one emotion remains my own, alone among the borrowed and the second hand, as pure as that faith as which I am still in flight-guilt. Did I want too much? Did my own hunger blind me to the ties which bound them to their faith? Why only now shadowed by war. All warnings gone. Alone enough to see the light.Brideshead Revisited Script - Dialogue TranscriptVoila! Finally, the Brideshead Revisited script is here for all you fans of the 2008 Matthew Goode movie, also featuring Ben Whishaw. This puppy is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of the movie to get the dialogue. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and all that jazz, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. At least you'll have some Brideshead Revisited quotes (or even a monologue or two) to annoy your coworkers with in the meantime, right?And swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards -- because reading is good for your noodle. Better than Farmville, anyway.Brideshead Revisited ScriptIf you asked me now who I am,the only answer I could givewith any certaintywould be my name,Charles Ryder.For the rest,my loves, my hates,down even to my deepest desires,I can no longer say whetherthese emotions are my ownor stolen from thoseI once so desperately wished to be.On second thoughts,one emotion remains my own,alone among the borrowedand the second-hand,as pure as that faithfrom which I am still in flight.Guilt.Been away, sir? Anywhere interesting?- Jungle.- Jungle.Explorer, are we?- Painter.- Painter?So, bye-bye beardy, hello smooth.Famous for his impressivearchitectural portraits,British artist Charles Ryderhas taken New York by stormwith a series of gripping jungle studies.To own a Ryder is currently the dreamof every self-respectingEast Coast millionaire.You must be so proud of him.- Was he away long?- Two years,- and it doesn't feel like a day.- You must feel positively bridal.I can't paintto save my life.Thank you.I can't even hold a buggering brush!But I know what I like. Lots of color.Nice and bright.I see the jungle in your workas a metaphor.Not least, the metaphysical semblanceof the chaos at the heart of civilization.Make an effort, Charles.You're not in South America now.You're amongst civilized people.- Mr. Ryder, I wonder if I could...- I'm so sorry. Excuse me.- Excuse me. Thank you very much....just have a conversation...Hello, Charles.- You're wearing a coat!- Yes, Father, I am.Why?- I'm going up to Oxford.- Ah. Yes.- Remind me. What are you taking?- History.- And what allowance have I given you?- A hundred pounds.How very indulgent of me.Mind you, it all comes out of capital.Oh, I suppose this is the timeI should give you advice.Your mother was alwaysso good at that.Who's meeting you?Cousin Jasper offeredto show me around.Cousin Jasper!Most entertaining.Out of the way,you silly fool.There you are, Charles.This way, please.Come along. As an only child,you will, of course, have much to learn.Though I am only your cousin, Charles,you must look upon me as a brother.Older, wiser,but a brother nevertheless.Now, it is no secret that our familiesare not rich in material wealth.Keep off the grass.But I like to think that we Ryders are,all of us, rich in the striving of minds.Now, then... Not that way.Clothes. Dress as you doin a country house.Never wear a tweed coatand a flannel trousers, always a suit.And go to a London tailor.You'll get a better cut.Protocol. First and foremost,behaving with restraint...Nine adulteries, 12 liaisons,64 fornications,and something approaching a raperest nightly upon the soulof our delicate friend Florialis,and yet the man is soquiet and reserved in demeanorthat he passesfor both bloodless and sexless.Sodomites, all of them. Steer well clear.Treat all donsas you would the local vicar.With indifference.Oh, dear, oh, dear. This won't do at all.You must change your rooms.I've seen many a man ruinedthrough having ground floor roomsin the front quad.People start dropping in.They leave their gowns hereand come and collect them before hall.You start giving them sherryand before you know it they're...Sebastian, come along.Look at the state of him.Come on, you're nearly clean.Oh, no, no, no, sir, stop.You don't clear up after yourself.That's my job.Sorry, Lunt. What's all this?From the gentleman last night, sir.He just called. Left a note for you."I am very contrite."Please come to luncheon today.Sebastian Flyte."The Lord Sebastian Flyte,don't you know?I'm sure it's quite a pleasureto clear up after him.I take ityou'll be out to lunch today, then, sir.Yes, Lunt. I think I shall be.I've just counted them.There's five each and two over,so I'm having the two.I'm unaccountably hungry today.I put myself unreservedlyin the hands of Dolbear and Goodalland feel so druggedI've begun to believethe whole of yesterday eveningwas a dream.Please don't wake me.- Do try one.- Thank you.- What are they?- Plover's eggs. The first this year.Mummy sends them from Brideshead.They always lay early for her.You would, too, if you knew my mother.Are you terribly angry with meabout last night?No, not at all.Thank you for the flowers.Aloysius, you can't go there.Do sit down.- Tell me about you.- Me?I'm in my first year, reading history,but really what I most want to beis a painter.Would you like to paint me?Well, yes. Yes, if you like.It's so clever of you,knowing what you want.I've no idea what I want.Except to be happy.If I can.Let's have some champagne.A glass each before the rowdies arrive.You don't want to join the Old Boys.They're all bloody drugged bogsor collegers.Top me up,will you, old man?- I don't remember you from Eton.- I didn't go to Eton.Oh, really. Where then?Harrow or Winchester?Rugby? Oh, not Charterhouse, I hope?You wouldn't have heard of it.There are other schools,you know, Boy.Yes, I suppose there must be.- My dears.- Hello, Blanche.Hello, Blanche.I couldn't get away before.I was lunchingwith my preposterous tutor.I told him I had to change for footer.Anthony, you remember Charles.From last night?Charles is reading history,but he wants to be an artist.- No!- Why ever not?- Either you are an artist or you are not.- Hear, hear.- Then I am.- Interesting.You have about youa distinct hint of the pragmatic.What do you want to be an artist for?I mean, what's the point of it?Why don't you justbuy a bloody cameraand take a bloody photographand stop giving yourself airs?- That's what I want to know!- That's it, go it, Boy!- I don't give myself airs.- Yes, you do.And, anyway,you haven't answered my question.Come on! Answer!- Answer, answer, answer, answer...- Yes.Answer, answer, answer, answer...Because a camerais a mechanical devicewhich records a moment in time,but not what that moment meansor the emotions that it evokes.Whereas a painting,however imperfect it may be,is an expression of feeling.An expression of love.Not just a copy of something.And who on earth do you thinkcares about your feelings?I do.Boy, you're an oaf. Behave yourself.To art and love.To art and love!We'd just arrived in his rooms, then,without even a, "By your leave,"the Lord Flyte pokes his headthrough the window and vomits.Ground floor rooms, you see.Poor Charles may never recover.- Morning, Jasper.- Morning.Two tries out of you today...Charles. You're to come away at once!I've got a basket of strawberriesand a bottle of Chateau Peyraguey,which isn't a wine you've ever tasted,so don't pretend.It's heaven with strawberries.Just the place to bury a crock of gold.I should like to burysomething preciousin every place where I've been happy.And, then,when I was old and ugly and miserable,I could come backand dig it up and remember.Come along, Charles.There's someone I want you to meet.- Is this where you live?- It's where my family live.Don't worry,you won't have to meet them.- Oh, but I should like to.- You can't. They're away.Everything's shut up.We better go this way.Keep up.Charles. Charles.Well, this is a surprise!How lovely to see you.Meet my new chum, Charles.Charles, this is Nanny Hawkins.This is who I wanted you to meet.- I don't think I know you, do I?- How do you do?Your friend has charming manners.What family are you from, Charles?- No family. I mean, no one important.- Charles is an artist.- He's going to paint me.- How jolly.You've come at just the right time.Lady Marchmain'son her way up from London.It's the Conservative Women's Tea.They always turn out for Brideshead.I'm afraid we may haveto miss them, Nanny.Your mother will be disappointed.I'm sure Her Ladyshipwould want to meet...Can't be done, I'm afraid.Got to get back or we'll be gated.I pray for my dear Sebastian every day.- Charles!- It was very nice to meet you.- Come along, Charles.- Couldn't we just have a quick look?We've seen who we came for.We can go.Just a little look.Don't be such a tourist, Charles.If you're that keen,you can see it all for a shillingon Queen Alexandra's Day.God, I loathe that painting!I could show you the chapel, I suppose,if we're quick.What did you do that for?- You're not Catholic, are you?- No.- I was just trying to fit in.- Well, don't.Come on, come on!Sorry, I'm afraid I don't have the knack.Charles, what are you doing?Car. Now.Who was that in the carwith your mother?- My sister.- What's she like?For goodness sake, Charles,I don't keep asking you questionsabout your family.But I've neverasked you anything before.You're so inquisitive.Well, you're so mysterious about them.I hoped I was mysteriousabout everything.Why don't you want meto meet your family?Who are you ashamed of, them or me?Don't be so vulgar, Charles.I'm not having you mixed upwith my family. You're my friend.I don't have a family.You have me.Sebastian and Charles,contra mundum.Contra mundum.Father?Father?- Back already?- Term's over.So soon?Thank you.- Father, I have to leave at once!- Oh, yes?A great friend of minehas had a terrible accident.- I must go to him.- May I?"Gravely injured.Come at once. Sebastian."I'm sorry you're upset.Reading this message,I would say that the accident was notas serious as you seem to suggestor it would not have been signedby the victim himself.Still, of course, he may well befully conscious, but horribly paralyzed.Remind me.Why is your presence necessary?I told you, he's a great friend.Well, I shall miss you, my boy,but don't hurry back on my account.Take your bag, sir?Excuse me!Are you Charles Ryder?Yes. Sorry. Hello.I'm Julia, Sebastian's sister.I've been sent to pick you up.Hop in, Mr. Ryder.- Case in the back.- Sorry, yes.How's Sebastian?- He's fine.- Fine?Did he tell you he was dying?Well, I thought... His message said...I expect he thoughtyou wouldn't come if you knew.He's not badly hurt, then?He cracked a bone in his footso small it hasn't even got a name.- How did it happen?- Playing croquet.I must admit,I did think it was a little queer,you traveling all this wayfor a croquet injury.I don't mind.It's wonderful to be here again.Is it? Why?Well, it's such a beautiful house,for one thing.I can't stand the place.Be an angel and light me one.There you are, at last!- I thought you were dying.- I thought I was, too.The pain was excruciating.Julia, ask Wilcoxto fetch us some champagne.- I hate champagne.- For our guest.Well, take your coat off. You'll boil.Come along, Charles.I thought you hated champagne.I do.I suppose Sebastian's told youall about us?No. No, nothing at all,as a matter of fact.And nor should I.What?- I take it you're not one of us?- Don't answer.I don't live like this,if that's what you mean.She means you're not a Catholic.Sorry, no. No, nothing at all.- You mean you're an atheist?- Well, yes, I suppose.Strictly speaking, we're C of E,but Father only ever goesfor Christmas and funerals.He likes those.- What about your mother?- She's dead.I was very young.She died working for the Red Cross.Which, given her devotion to good,does rather point upthe arbitrariness of it all.I see. So, you're here arbitrarily?He's here as my friend.Given Mr. Ryder'sstaunch position on religion,don't you think he ought to knowwhat he's getting into?Leave Charles out of it.- Tell me.- Oh, God.Mummy takes her faithvery seriously, indeed.So seriously, in fact,that our fat little priest, Father Mackay,called her a living saint.Mind you, he drinks.Sebastian and Iare a couple of heathens.I'm not a heathen, I'm a sinner.Cast out from God's love.As for you,you're not a heathen at all, not really.Why do we always end uptalking about family?It's time for my bath.Good evening, Mr. Ryder.Look after my brother.I don't think your sisterlikes me very much.I don't thinkshe cares for anyone much.I love her.She's like me.Drink in remembrance of me.Hang on.In fact, I know that that's checkmate.Come here.If only it could belike this always.Always summer.Always alone.Fruit always ripe.Cheers.Now,try this.- No?- It's a shy little wine. Like a gazelle.- Like a leprechaun.- Dappled in a tapestry meadow.A flute by still water.This is a wise old wine.A prophet in a cave.And thisis a string of pearls on a white neck.- A swan.- The last unicorn.Who's that?- Is that your brother?- Yes, that's Bridey.- He seems all right to me.- Wait till you meet him.Mother.Hello, there.Go away,we're not decent!- Mummy's here.- We know.She's invited Charles to dinner.It's not what weagreed upon, Sebastian,when we talked about thisat Christmas, when you came down.It's no use crying, darling.That's just childish.That's not going to help, is it?You see, darling,whatever yesterday's sins,we must all pray for God's forgiveness.So now, you try and try again now.Be a good boy.For God and for Mummy.Now, just put your shirt on now.Dining room's this way.Is Sebastian all right?He seemed upset.Oh.He and Mummy often have these talks.Flannels for dinner?Very bold, Mr. Ryder.- Will your mother mind?- Yes, she'll be appalled.No, don't worry.She'll be understanding.- Do you often do that?- What?- Say one thing, mean another?- Yes and no.Thank you.- Amen.- Amen.Welcome to Brideshead, Mr. Ryder.I've been hearing all about you.I do hope you didn't let Sebastiancall you away in too much of a rush.I'm afraid I didn't quite have timeto pack the right things.Sebastian must lend you some clotheswhile you're here.Or perhaps Bridey's a better fit.Are you a Brideyor a Sebastian, Mr. Ryder?He can't borrow Bridey's clothes.Bridey dresses like a bank clerk.Don't be vulgar, Cordelia.Vulgar is not the same as funny.I hope you've beenlooked after properly, Ryder.Has Sebastianbeen seeing to the wine?Yes. Sebastian's beenseeing to the wine.Delighted to hear it.- You're fond of wine?- Yes, very.I wish I were.It's such a bond with other men.At Christ Church, I tried to get drunkmore than once, but I didn't enjoy it.What do you enjoy, Bridey?Hunting, shooting,fishing.And what form do your pleasures take,Mr. Ryder?- Sorry, pleasures?- Your hobbies.- What do you do to relax?- He drinks.Drinking is not a hobby, Sebastian.- You live in London, is that correct?- Yes.- Whereabouts?- Paddington.You live in a railway station?No, no. Sorry. No, I live nearby.I see.And has this ledto an interest in trains?No.So, are you closewith Sebastian's crowd?Not really.- With Anthony Blanche?- We're acquainted.Charles is a painter, Mummy.How charming.We must get youto paint something for us.- Would you do that, Mr. Ryder?- I'd be delighted.I think Brideshead's the mostbeautiful house I've ever seen.- It's utterly magical.- How kind you are.Summer at Brideshead.Mr. Ryder must stay with usfor the rest of the vacation.As a matter of fact,I've just heard from Papa.He wants me to go and see himin Venice. And Julia.I see.And do you intendto accept this invitation?Yes. Why not?What about you, Julia?Will you be going?I'd like to.Wouldn't you ratherstay at Brideshead?Well, yes, if you want me to.- You must not neglect your duty.- No, Mother.I think we might spend a little timein the chapel after dinner.- Would you join us, Mr. Ryder?- Thank you.You do know Charles is an atheist?An agnostic, surely.Actually, no.But you'll join us, anyway,out of curiosity.Thank you.- No Sebastian?- No, Mummy.Charles, are you really an atheist?- Yes, I am.- How awful for you.I'll put you on my prayer list.I have a long list of people I pray for,including six black Cordelias in Africa.It's a new thing. You send five bobto some nuns in Africa,and they christen a baby after you.Right.Thy will be done,on earth as it is in heaven.Give us this day our daily bread,and forgive us our trespassesas we forgivethose who trespass against us.And lead us not into temptation,but deliver us from evil.Amen.Have you everbeen to Venice, Mr. Ryder?No. No, I haven't.Every ambitious young manshould visit Venice.It makes one sound more complete.I was thinking, if Sebastian were to go,it might be a good thingif you were to accompany him.He needs someone plausibleby his side.I gather last time he was there, he wasbefriending some very odd types.It's youthful high spirits, I understand,but in the end,we must all accept God's limits.Atheist, or no.I know I can rely on you.You seem to mea very reliable young man.- San Giovanni e Paolo.- Oh, dear.I can seeyou're going to be impossibly curious.By the way, I should warn you.Our lovely father is rather a scoundrel.He livesin one of the palazzos with Cara.- Who's Cara?- His mistress.Poor Papa's rather shunned by society.Not the Italians, of course.They adore him.- Santa Maria dei Miracoli.- I know. I've seen the postcard.- My dear boy!- Darling, Papa.- You look so young!- Do you think so?I've taken to playing tennisat the Lido with a professional.Cara thinks I'm getting far too fat.Julia, come here.- Father.- My child.- I wasn't sure if you'd come.- Mummy gave me her blessing.Blessed by your mother.What a saint that woman is.You know, I used to try everythingto please her.Julia, this is your friend, Mr. Ryder?- Charles is my friend, Papa.- I see.- Delighted.- How do you do, sir?- Welcome to Venice.- Here's Cara. Now we can eat.Come along now. This way.Don't look so greedy. It won't go away.Sorry.I wasn't sure you'd come to Venice.Your father seemedpleased to see you.I'm not sure Fathercares much if I come.He'd probably be just as happyif it was only Sebastian.They adore each other.They're alike in so many ways.- Who are you like?- Me?Oh.Nobody.I'm the family shadow.Drinks.- Julia.- Cara.Mr. Ryder, Sebastian tells meyou are a painter.- Charles is an artist.- Good.Well, then I will show you all thegreat art of Canaletto and Veronese.He never goes anywhere.Such a philistine.I don't mind the art.It's religion I can't stand.The Italians seem unableto paint anything half decentwithout putting Christ dying in it.Of course, your mother loved Italy.- A piet?on every street corner.- Don't be cruel.On the contrary, she'd be flattered.God was always her first love.- Mummy loves all of us equally.- Come now, Julia.You were the one who walked away!What must you think of us, Mr. Ryder?- A family of monsters, are we not?- No, not at all.I lost my mother when I was young.Tell me, Mr. Ryder, as an artist,what did you make of Brideshead?I thought it was magnificent.You think that? Really?And now, here you are in Venice.What a lot of temptations.He walks for two hoursevery day. He wants to be immortal.But he's quite fragile, you know, inside.That woman nearly suffocated him.- She's been very kind to me.- Oh, yes. I'm sure. But you will see.Well, just look at her children.Even when they were tiny,in the nursery,they must dowhat she want them to do,be what she want them to be.Only then, would she love them.It's not Lady Marchmain's fault.Her God has done that to her.But surely you're Catholic, too?Yes, but a different sort.It's different in Italy. Not so much guilt.We do what the heart tell us,and then we go to confession.Sebastian loves you very much, I think.There you are.They're very good,these romantic English friendships,if they don't go on too long.For you, it's just a,how do you say, "a phase"?But I think it's more than thatfor poor Sebastian.Tread carefully, Mr. Ryder.Come on.- Hello.- No! No!Come on.Got you.- Can't sleep.- Try pajamas.I enjoyed the beach today.I hope I wasn't too rough.You were very sweet.Charles?There you are.Sorry.Lots to drink.I'm so glad you're here.- I'm glad you're here.- I'm glad I came.- Did I say I'm glad you're here?- You're really glad I'm here?Let's get plastered.- If you want.Oh, yes, I do. I want. I want.There's a wonderful chapelnear here!You will see a masterpiece, I tell you.The devil's got his eye on you!Well, then you must protect me.Julia!Julia.I got lost. All those people.What are you doing?What's the matter?No!Funny old religion, isn't it?Sebastian,what happened just now...I never meant you to...If I'd known it was going to happen,I'd never have...I don't know what I'm supposed to...Checkmate.I'm boring you.Perhaps it is dull for you here.You've been enjoying yourself?- I've been in Venice.- Oh, yes, yes, I suppose so.The friend you wereso much concerned about, did he die?- No.- I'm very thankful.You should have written to tell me.I worried about him so much.Watch out, Flyte!- Sebastian!- Sebastian!- Leave me alone!- Damn. Where is he? The bastard.- Who?- Mr. Samgrass.- Who's Mr. Samgrass?One of Mummy's gang.Fat little Catholic from All Souls.Bastard's been set up to follow me.I wouldn't mindif he wasn't so infernally ugly.God, I feel a hundred years old.Why haven't you called round?I've been worried.I was beginning to thinkthey hadn't sent you up.- Since Venice.- Yes.- Damn! There he is again.- Who? What are you talking about?- Mr. Samgrass! There!- Do you mind?Mummy's hired him to watch me.- What does he want?- My head on a plate.Look, if he's bothering you,I can stop him.Dear Charles, always so certain.- I'm not certain of anything.- Aren't you?By the way, Mummy's here.She has to talk to you.Probably wants youto spy on me as well.Don't be like that.Why don't I come roundto your rooms later?I'm not sure I want to see you anymore.I'm so sorry.So, Charles,- how was Venice?- Venice was fine.- A strange way to put it.- It was beautiful.Speaking as an artist or a man?I want a word with youabout Sebastian.I'm concerned about him.- Tea?- No, thank you.- Why? Should I be?- He's drinking too much.You must have noticed.After all, I sent you to look after him.Yes, I supposewe both drink too much, really.No, not at all. You drink to get drunk,Sebastian drinks to escapethe claims of his conscience.I do wish I could understandwhy he's so particularly upset.Ever since he came back from Venice,he's been unreachable.- Did something happen there?- No.- You all had a good time?- Yes.I wonder what it could have been.I hope you didn't let Julia mislead you.- I don't understand.- I think you do.Please understand,I would not want youto make yourself look foolish, Charles.Her future is not a question of choice.It is a matter of faith.Were it simplya difference in upbringing,this I might overlook.But you are a self-proclaimed atheist,and my daughteris destined to marry a Catholic.God commands and we obey.However, we're forgetting ourselves.We're here to talkabout your friendship with my son.I'm not sure Sebastianwants to be my friend anymore.Because of Julia?But that is all cleared up now.We're giving a ball for Julia's 21 st.I'd like youto keep Sebastian company.You came to Bridesheadas my son's friend.If you haveunaccountably offended him,it is surely not too much to askthat you revisit your responsibilities.- To him or to you?- To the family.And, of course,Brideshead does look particularlybeautiful at this time of year.Tell me, I'm curious.Since, as you claim,you have no religion,what do you imagineyou are doing on this earth?Living my life, the same as you.But without faith,what could your purpose possibly be?I want to look back and say that I wasalive.That I didn't turn my back. That I tried.That I was happy.Happiness in this life is irrelevant.All that matters,the only thing of consequence,is the life hereafter.Ready for the off.A beautiful day for it, isn't it? Come on.Funny, isn't it?It's my little present to the family.- Rex Mottram. How do you do?- Charles Ryder.Good to meet you, Charles.Heard all about you.We should compare notes some time.- Going on the hunt?- I don't think so.Wise man. Load of Englishblue bloods on horseback.Got to fit in, though!Who is it?It's me.You could have knocked.I nearly spilt my drink.I did.Sit down.If only it could be like this always.- Always summer.- Ancient history.Pass me a towel.Where's that damn shirt?You're shaking. What is it?What's the matter?Don't you know, Charles?"Why this is hell, nor am I out of it."- Sebastian, if I've ever done anything...- It's not you.It's me.For God's sake, do stop mooning at melike a great big cow!I'm fine.I'm fine so longas I've got plenty of this.I want you to know thatwhatever happened in Venice,I'm not in your mother's gang,if that's what you think.I'm on your side.Contra mundum.Dear Charles,you're not in anybody's gang.That's always been your problem.Why are you going on the hunt?I thought you detested hunting.I do.I'm going to leave Brideyat the first covert,hack over to the nearest pub,and spend the whole day drinking.If they treat me like a dipsomaniac,they can bloody wellhave a dipsomaniac.Well, they can't stop you.They can, as a matter of fact,by not giving me any money.They've stopped my bank account.I've pawned my watchand cigarette case.That lasted for a bit,but that's all gone now.So, regretfully...Sebastian, I can't do that.- I thought you were on my side.- I am.Well, then.Look, why don't I come with you?It's miserable drinking alone.We could get drunk together,like we used to.No.I'm past all that.Thanks for the offer.Well?Are you with me or against me?Little bit further upon the shoulder, though.Sarah, look.Sort of up here.Ladies and gentlemen,it gives me great pleasure to announce,on top of the birthday festivities,the engagement of my eldest daughter,the Lady Julia Flyteto Mr. Rex Mottram.Yes, it's marvelous, isn't it.- Thank you, Charles. I'd love to dance.- Cordelia.- Cordelia, I'm...- Come along!- Charles?- Hmm?I hope you don't mind me asking,but modern art,- it is all bosh, isn't it?- Yes, it's all bosh.Good. I thought so.Get a grip, Charles!Rex! Rex, I need a better dancer.Yours for five minutes and no more.- Come along.- Okay.You're rather tall, aren't you?Is that a handicap?Why didn't you tell me?It's not Sebastian. I don't believe that.Charles, I can't do this.- When we kissed...- Please, stop!Why? It was wonderful.I know.I think about it all the time.I have no choice.- Oh, Sebastian.- Never mind.- Oh, Charles.- Don't!- Come along, old boy.- I don't want your help.You're in tweed, Sebastian.This is a ball.Bugger off, Bridey.You're worse than wet.You see... What it is...I hate you all so very much!- Sebastian.- Get off me!You don't care about me!All you ever wantedwas to sleep with my sister!Okay, Sebastian, that's enough.All right. I'm going.Charles,did you give Sebastian money today?Yes, I did.Knowing how he was likely to spend it?Yes.I don't understand.How could you be so nicein so many ways,and then do somethingso wantonly cruel?We all liked you so much.I don't understand how we deserved it.Do you think it's betterto make him feel like a criminal?Having him watchedevery second of the day?But you deliberatelyhelped him to drink.You're the reason he drinks,not me.All I did wastry to give him a little freedom.No, you just wanted him to like you.You're so desperate to be liked.I think you should leave now, Charles.Hello, there.Would you like me to hold the ladder?Yes, thanks.I'm Celia Mulcaster, by the way.Charles Ryder.I saw your paintings in the brochureand thought how charming they looked.No need to look so gloomy.If I had half your talent, I'd be delirious.You can thank me, if you want.Thank you.Would you like meto buy something now?Silent and grave,and then "pop," mouse is dead.- Charles.- Lady Marchmain.Thank you, Father.I'm so glad your sondidn't die of his injuries.Please, sit down.I'm fine, thank you.How did you know where I lived?My driver found you.The Ryders of Paddingtonare limited in number.I hear you have your first exhibitionat the Royal Academy.Congratulations.I'm sure you're not hereto ask me how I am.No. The last time we saw each other,it's true I spoke rather harshly.I'm not here to apologize.What I said, I meant.I took you into my confidence,and you betrayed me.I do hope you're not asking meto agree with you.- I act only as God directs.- Rubbish.God's your best invention.Whatever you want, he does.- I am not here to argue with you.- Good. I'm glad to hear it.The reason I calledwas to ask you a favor.A favor?Sebastian's gone missing.He's in a house in Morocco.I'm worried about him.I need you to bring him back.You banish me from your house,you poison my friendshipwith both your childrenand now you expect meto go begging on your behalf?There's no one else I can ask.Even if I were to agree,what makes you think Sebastianwould take any notice of me?Because he cared for you morethan he ever cared for anyone else.All I ever wanted was to see them safe.And all they do is hate me.I'll be at Brideshead.You may send word to me there.Driver!Driver!I'm looking for Sebastian Flyte.This is his house.- Who are you?- I'm his friend.In the local hospital.When you see him,tell him I'm still here.Your friendhas got the grippe.One of his lungs is full of fluid.He will recover. But travel with you?Not a chance.He's very weak. No resistance.What do you expect?He is an alcoholic.Here is your friend.What the hell are you doing here?Your mother asked me to come.She wants me to bring you back home,but the doctor saidit's out of the question for you to travel.I wouldn't, even if I could.I think...I think she's dying.Walk with me. I'm meant to exercise.Did you go to my house?Did you meet Kurt?Yes.He wanted you to knowhe was waiting for you.It's rather a pleasant change,when all your lifeyou've had people looking after you,to have someone to look after, yourself.I thought you'd want to go backto Brideshead one day.Brideshead?Are you mad?The place would still be full of her.I wouldn't go withina hundred miles of the place.I need to sit.I'm sorry.Whatever for?Everything.It's all right.Truly.I asked too much of you.I knew it all along, really.Only God can give you that sort of love.Come home, Sebastian.When you're well enough.Don't finish it like this.This is my life now.I'm happy here.I miss you.How sweet of you to say that.Dear Charles,it was my fault forbringing you to Brideshead.Run away.Run far away and don't ever look back.I'm sorry.You must be so proud of him.- Was he away long?- Two years,and it doesn't feel like a day.Hello, Charles.Did you know I was on the boat?If I said no, you wouldn't believe me.You're married now.Yes.- You haven't changed at all.- Neither have you.- How ridiculous.- Yes, isn't it?Tell me this is fate.- What?- Nothing.Tell me.I was thinking about Sebastian.Mummy died withoutever seeing him again.I know.Let's go up on deck.- Are you sure?- They're all asleep! Come on!Come on!Sorry.- So where's Rex?- I drowned him.Forgive me, Rex!Lady Julia, fancy meeting you here.- Mr. Ryder.- Could I possibly get you a drink?Dry martini, please.One dry Martini,one whiskey with water.Please, allow me.So, why did you marry Rex?I don't know. Because he wasn't you.- Because he was rich.- Because he was Catholic.Because Mummy approved,God rest her soul.I thought he was my painted savage.It turns out he wasthoroughly up to date.Thank you.Now, no more talk about Rex.He's in England.- Do you have children?- No.No.- What will you tell your wife?- Wait until London.I have a viewing to arrange.I'll sort it out. It'll be fine.- Where shall we go?- Somewhere abroad, like Daddy.- What about Italy? Capri?- Antibes.- Seville.- Verona.- Paris.- Brideshead.- No!- Why not?- It's the loveliest place on earth.- I can't go back there.- Not after this.- Nonsense.- We've nothing to apologize for.- No.Besides, Rex is there.Leave it to me.I'll settle things with Rex.I'll settle everything.Trust me.I do.- And stop worrying!- I will.Good afternoon, ma'am.- Lovely day.Mr. and Mrs. Ryder.Look, that's the Dukeand Duchess of Clarence.- They want to buy one!- How very gracious of them.Make an effort, Charles.I've got you the cream of Mayfair.Mrs. Ryder, good day.Charles, how charming you look.Anthony.I heard, quite by chance, at a luncheon,that you were having an exhibition.So, of course, I dashed impetuouslyto the shrine to pay homage.Where are the pictures?Let me explain them to you.This is simply charm.Simple, creamy, English charm,playing tigers.But enough of art.They tell me you are happy in loveand that is everything, isn't it?Or nearly everything.Everyone's talking about it.So, it's Julia now.And it used to be Sebastian.Do you think I should warn her?Warn her about what?How apropos that you'd havechosen jungles for your canvas.I always thought youwere the lamb to be slaughtered,when all along it is theywho are hunted.There really is no end to your hunger,is there, Charles?Why do I feel so nervous?- Don't be.- Who are all these people?- Politicians, money men.Rex thinks there's a warcoming with Hitler.He wants to do well out of it.- It's all he talks about.- Hello, Julia.- Hello, Rex.- Good evening, Rex.Mr. Ryder,welcome back to Brideshead.I hear you're makingquite a name for yourself.- Could I have a word with you?- Later, I have guests.It's cold.Not here!- Sorry.- Let's go back to London.- Let me settle everything with Rex.- And then we'll leave?- Yes? Charles?- Yes.If that's what you want.Hello, Bridey.- Hello, Julia. Just up from London?- Yes.Welcome back to Brideshead, Charles.- How's your family?- Fine, thank you.- Rex still entertaining?- He's got business.I'm sorry he's not here.I have a little announcement to make.Well, come on. Out with it.- I'm engaged to be married.- Congratulations, Bridey.Well, who is she?- No one you know.- Is she pretty?I don't think you couldexactly call her pretty."Comely" is the wordI think of in her connection.She is a big woman.- Fat?- No, big.She's called Mrs. Muspratt.Her Christian name is Beryl.But, Bridey, where did you find her?Her late husband, Admiral Muspratt,collected matchboxes.You're not marrying herfor her matchboxes, are you, Bridey?No, no.Matchboxes were leftto Falmouth Town Library.I'm just holding them for collection.Why are you laughing?- I hope you'll be very happy.- Thank you.- I think I'm very fortunate.- You sly, old thing.When are we going to meet her?You must bring her here.- I couldn't do that.- Why not?Well, you must understand,Beryl is a womanof strict Catholic principle,fortified by the prejudicesof the middle classes.I couldn't possibly bring her here.I don't understand.It may be a matter of indifferenceto you,whether or not you chooseto live in sin with Charles,but on no account would Berylconsent to be your guest.How dare you talk to her like that?Bloody offensive thing to say!Really, there was nothingshe could object to.I was merely statinga fact well known to her.Take no notice of him, my darling.So,got you. Sorry about the delay.I'll be outside.The door? Door's madefrom all the works of Dickens.I had it installed especially. Want one?No, thank you.I know what you're thinking.How vulgar can it get?You wanna know the secret?I do it on purpose.It amuses me to offendtheir delicate sensibilities.So, you wanna take my wife off me?You know she can't marrya divorc? right?- Against the rules.- Well, at least she'll be free of you.She'll never be free.Don't pretendyou've been faithful to her.Who said anything about faith?I bet you'd love to get your handson the house, though, wouldn't you?All those pretty paintings.All those pretty views.Let her go, Rex. You never loved her.The only thing you ever hadin common was religion.Wrong. When I decided to marry Julia,I wasn't a Catholic.I converted before the wedding.Bet she didn't tell you that.- I guessed.- Oh, yeah?You're the type.You people,you never learn.You could have had it allif you'd been a little more flexible.I did what I had to do.They want a Catholic,I'll convert to Catholicism.It's a great religion.You sin all you want, then you confess.Problem solved.You gotta woo these people.This family don't live in the real world.- They're mortgaged up to the hilt.- Get to the point.You want my wife? Make me an offer.- I'm not just giving her away.- Don't do this. It's demeaning.Try a little harder.You're a rich man, Rex,you've already got what you wanted.You can never have enoughof what you want.No, you're right.You're taking her off my hands.That's a favor.I'll tell you what I'll do.You give me a couple of your junglepics, and I'll give you an annulment.I hear you're worth collecting.Come on, Charlie boy, say yes.You know you want to.You don't have to speak.Just nod.I'll have my driver take me to London.He can pick up the paintingsin the morning.You know she's mad.Can't even give you children.Lost the only one we had.Julia?I'm so sorry. I didn't know.- It's just a shock.- Shh.Shh. Don't.I've always known, ever since nursery.I tried to be good, I really did.I tried. I married Rex.All through the backgammonand cigars, I tried.But it's not enough. It's never enough.God had to punish me.So he took my little stillborn...My child. My girl.With you, I thought I couldreally and truly be free.But coming back here, it's like a thread,an invisible thread drawing you back,inch by inch,until all of a sudden,you're a child again.And that voice inside your head,the one that Mummy plantedall those years ago in the nursery,every night in the nursery,filling your head with it.And the voice is telling you,whispering,"Wicked little Julia,bad little girl, living in sin."And here I am again with you,living in sin.It's over. It's over now.- Everything set?- That's everything, sir.- Thank you, Wilcox.- Best of luck, sir.Who's that?Go back. Turn around.I have to go back.- Staff, immediately!- Yes, sir.Come on, quickly now!I'll help with that.Come on, hurry!- Yes, sir.Shall I help, Tompkins?- Hurry!The sedan chair.- Right, very gently. Very gently.Hurry.- Get a move with the chair.Come along, come along.Somebody got the rug?Up. Gently.Clear the stairs, please.- Could I have the medical bag?- Father!- Dear Julia.Come on, please. Come on!I'm sorry, I was to call,but we have been travelingwithout a stop for three days.It was Cordelia,she was visiting us in Venice...What happened?- We want the bed readyas soon as possible.His heart. Some long word at the heart.Hurry up.He's dying.He has come home to die.Come on, everybody, that's it.Chop-chop.Come along.We must get Lord Marchmainto the great dining room.Thank you.He's sleeping.Do you think we shouldlet Sebastian know?You could, but I doubt he'd come.The last I heard of him,he was still struggling rather.The monks have him as a porterin the hospital in Morocco.He seems to like it.I think they've rather taken himunder their wing, dear old thing.Still, salvation of a sort.Bridey, you need to call for a priest.I'll have a word with Father Mackayabout dropping in this evening.Julia, your father doesn't want a priest.All he wants is to die in his old home.Our father's soul, all sinners' souls,face mortal danger.It is our duty as Catholicsto see that we do all in our powerto save those we love from themselves.Hateful woman.She wants me dead.What about you?- Do you want me dead?- No.You know the familyare sending for a priest.They seem determinedto drag God into it.Why should you care?You don't believe in God.You said so yourself.Have you suddenlybecome my conscience?I've already seen Sebastianruined by God.I don't see why I should watch ithappen again with your daughter.How very caring of you.You forget, I was there.I watched that woman crucify my son,little by little, and I was silent.What does that say about me?You're not responsiblefor what she did.But are we not alsoour brother's keeper?You, Charles, and me?I let Sebastian down.I let everyone down.This way, sir.Dear, no, that's too many!- Papa...- Your father needs to rest!- Get him away.- I've brought Father Mackay to see you.- Get him away! Get him away!- Out!Everybody out! Out! Out!- I'm so sorry, Father.- Not at all. Give him time.I've known worse casesmake beautiful deaths.What were you talkingto my father about?He doesn't want a priest.Please, Charles.Please don't interfere with mattersthat don't concern you.Julia...Let's get out of here.We'll go to Italy.- Capri.- I can't leave now, my father's dying.When this is over,I can make you happy.- Why should I believe you?- Believe me.You just bought me from Rex.What are you talking about?According to you,I'm worth two pictures.I thought I'd fetch at least three.Don't be ridiculous.- That was Rex.- You agreed to it, Charles.- I had no choice!- You agreed!I thought I was doing the right thing.I thought I was doing what you wanted.No, you thought you were getting meand the house, together.- Is that really what you think?- You tell me. Please, tell me.What does Charles Ryder really want?Can you imagine what it was likefor me to be invited into Brideshead?Me,Charles Ryder,"the painter from Paddington,"as your mother so sweetly put it.There was no humiliationI would not have enduredjust to be part of that dream.And your mother, that woman is morealive now than she ever was.She's in every brick,every stone, every slate.Sebastian was right.We should run away.- Why did you bring me here?- We can still leave.- Bridey...- Don't interfere, Charles.Now, try and remember your sinsand tell God you're sorry.I'm going to give you absolution now.And while I'm giving it,I want you to tell God you're sorryyou offended him,and then I want youto make a sign, if you can.- Amen.- Amen.Amen.Please, God,please, if you're there, forgive him.Forgive me. Oh, God, forgive me.Let him have a sign.Sebastian used to loathe this painting.Daddy gave it to Mummyas a wedding present.Tell me.I wanted too much.It's nobody's fault.But you're not coming with me.I can't shut myself off from His mercy.Can you understand that?I don't want to make it easier for you.I hope your heartbreaks.But I do understand.I have to let you go.Whether by fate or thedivine ironies of some higher power,I find myself returned once moreto Brideshead.Let it go.Did I want too much?Get him out of my sight!Did my own hunger blind me tothe ties that bound them to their faith?Am I only now, shadowed by war,all moorings gone,alone enough to see the light?Worst place we've struck yet.No facilities, no amenities,and the nearest villageis a five-mile walk.Mind you, there's a rumorof a big push coming.They'll be shippingus off to France soon.Yes, very soon.Where are the family now?Does anyone know?Some Lady Flyte liveson her own here, normally.She's overseaswith the women's service.Her elder brother died in the Blitz.They're all Roman Catholic.- I take it you're not religious, Hooper.- Me? God, no. Can't see the point in it.You're born, you live, then you die.Do you have any hopesfor the future, Hooper?Hopes? Oh, aye, plenty.It's our time now. You watch.The old ways, all this, they're gone.Future belongs to us,so long as we don't get shot.How about you, sir?You got someonespecial waiting for you?Me? No.I've loved and lostfor more than one lifetime.Would you like meto drive you back, sir?No, not yet. Carry on, Hooper.Very good, sir.Sergeant!Special thanks to SergeiK.