克莱尔的相机

6.5洪老师的每一次剧本都是一种试验 对别人也是对自己 我不用去揣度他的用意很可能他自己也并非十分确定 于是 平常的几件小事情在时间的平行空间里窜梭甚至可以无目的 结尾可能看作未来她又回去工作了虽然我觉得可能性不大也可能就丢一个早就想好的开头到拉里罢了……洪老师对于一个场景的处理是一镜到底 省了无谓烦杂的剪辑但事先需要做好充足的安排 还要演员不能NG情绪始终连贯像演话剧一样的要求 就是里面那些感觉无理由的推拉常让我感觉不适虽然次数还克制（其实也不是没理由 一般处理都会蒙太奇割开好像把姑娘丑的那面遮去不见 这儿就是啥都给你看 whatever）两个非英语国家的人用英语交流用词自然尽量简单 口音也各有特色若不是有剧本我还真不信她们一路会无阻 还有情绪上的表达也有问题 至少于老师的“oh yes”就瞬间让我尴尬…… 所以她们的交流更多是在剧本上的也就是说流于表面的 亚洲人和欧洲人对“礼貌”的身体力行上截然不同 前者有虚伪之嫌后者坦荡（我有时候非常讨厌这种“虚伪”却又常不知为何 现在好像明白一点也）

当我谈万熙的时候我是没法不谈金敏喜的 哪有什么万熙 那只有金敏喜其实很心疼女boss 她说自己曾经那样年轻美丽 当导演抓住她的手时 她卸下了全部防备 搔首弄姿的样子甚至让人不舒服 可是她也年轻过 也曾有过与她相配的爱情 但是她输了 我们也会输 整个世界都会输给金敏喜 所以整个世界都得到了斥责她的权利 但她还是那么美 就像海伦导演或许试图分出自己的一部分成为克莱尔 或者希望观众可以是克莱尔——忠于属于自己的 一段单方面逝去的感情 欣赏她 陪伴她 不用面对世论指责 最好连她的语言也不会 却能用另一种美丽的语言朗读诗歌 但他又一定不会甘于此 所以他宁愿一次又一次的出演自己 不清醒的 感性的 懦弱的 狼狈的 恼羞成怒的 恬不知耻的 中年出轨导演渣男般的怒吼其实是缴械投降的示爱和寻不到出路的绝望一边拍摄着美丽的情人 一边任凭世人评头论足 我曾觉得他们是厚脸皮 是所谓为了爱情不顾一切 现在我觉得他是在用这种方式赎罪【或者说他没法不这样拍下去】 向自己 向世界 也向他善良但不诚实的爱人也许金敏喜也会老吧 但她在克莱尔的相机里 仍是海伦【我也不知道我怎么就成了金敏喜脑残粉了 真的抵挡不住 我现在就觉得我特懂洪导😔】

今年的北影节本来计划去看这部电影，因为当时没有时间没去成，刚才看过之后一阵小庆幸，幸亏没看上，否则会心疼电影票钱。

这部在戛纳电影节期间速成的片子一如既往的洪尚秀风格，莫名其妙，一脸尴尬，有导演本人生活的影子，平淡无奇却又不失回味。

来自法国，刚刚失去男朋友的高中音乐教师克莱尔手持一部拍立得行走在戛纳街头，与人搭讪，尴聊，在那样一个地方所遇之人竟然都是韩国人，而他们又有千丝万缕的联系，巧合还是天意真说不清楚。

克莱尔拍照的目的只有一个，“改变事物的唯一办法，就是仔仔细细地再看一遍。

”这样看来，克莱尔这个人物只是导演想要讲的这个故事的见证者，或者说是串起三个当事人关系的那条线。

也就是说，借他人之眼讲述已经发生的故事。

女制片人用自己的判断炒了与她中意的导演发生一夜情的万熙；而导演又以自己的判断向女制片人提出了分手，接着神经质地醉酒，在天台对万熙的热裤激烈地说出他的判断。

万熙在克莱尔拍的照片里发现了自己被辞退的原因，那就是嫉妒。

同时她也有了自己的判断，不再对被炒鱿鱼而心怀不满，纠结抑郁，而是愉快的打包工作用品，了结过去，去迎接或许正是她想要的生活。

用法式英语和韩式英语停顿式尴聊，是导致这部电影低分的直接原因。

整部影片69分钟，我感觉其中有20%是镜头的起幅和落幅，还有50%的尬聊。

不知道有没有导演解读，但是就说说自己的理解吧。

故事还算明了，导演和漂亮女制片员工发生一夜情，导演的正牌女友又恰好是员工的制片老板，于是老板决定在戛纳参展的时候和员工摊牌让她滚蛋。

但没想到导演其实对制片已然没有激情，也相继和女制片摊牌。

整个故事似乎并没有克莱尔啥事情，这个主角究竟是干嘛的呢？

其实我觉得她就像一个用相机记录并收集各色人群经历和感情的精灵。

她的存在是向观众更好地展现故事的细节，或者说强行推动故事情节的发展。

影片看到一半的时候，我就想到貌似以前听说过一个故事，好像是一个收废品的，高价收购各种废品，一个孩子想把自己小时候的东西全卖了，但是不解这些东西有什么用，收废品的说，这里面包含着人们的回忆啊，我最喜欢了。

（具体啥故事我记得了，好像是类似的，如果谁也听过这样大概的，请告诉我）克莱尔其实就让我联想到了这么一个角色，一个收集人们的故事的精灵。

为什么说是精灵呢，有几个情节让人觉得她很会让别人信服于她。

比如在餐厅的时候，导演问她为啥照相，她说这一秒的你和下一秒的你已然不同了，我想记录下来（这不是形而上学吗？

）刚开始导演并不信服，她让他和她对视，后来竟然也把导演说的神神叨叨的，后来和制片摊牌的时候也竟然说到以前的时候和现在的时候不一样。

还有一次是，克莱尔跟着万熙去吃韩国料理的时候，在楼下硬是也让万熙觉得壁画很奇怪。

（当然都也可能是出于礼貌的认同）不仅如此，整部片子最大最大令观众迷惑的地方其实就是，为什么克莱尔明明在之前见过万熙，后来在海边第三次（或者第二次）见面的时候，却好像之前没见过似的；克莱尔明明见过了导演和制片，后来和万熙聊天的时候却假装啥都不知道呢？

这就是我认为可以解释为何她是精灵的原因，她需要别人释放的经历或者感情，自己才可以用相机记录。

其实还有几个小的细节，比如克莱尔和导演在咖啡厅说她是法国人，刚到没几天，可是有一个镜头是她进入了沙滩旁的桥洞里。

第二个是，万熙讲自己也会作曲，后来克莱尔说自己是个音乐老师；如果克莱尔真的是个音乐老师，那她听到万熙说她有时会作曲的时候，正常的回答应该会提及自己是音乐老师的身份吧；但是她只字不提。

其实整部片子就是克莱尔用各种谎言来引出导演、制片和员工之间的混乱故事。

甚至看到这种纪录片式的长镜头和推拉镜头，我还在想“克莱尔的相机”其实并不光是她手里的相机，还有这个正在拍摄的相机。

总之，处处透露着奇怪的诡异，这种奇幻的色彩不光是叙事时间线的混乱和尴尬的台词，还有前后处处解释不通的矛盾。

至于克莱尔这个角色也是很让人迷惑。

有点炫技的成分，没有表演，没有台词，感觉就是一集伦理电视剧的剧情，20分钟就能讲完的故事非要拖进69分钟里。

当然如果有导演解读那最好了。

ps.看到有的影评讲可能是梦，是还没有发生的事情，这其实也能解释得通。

pps.金敏喜长得太像我的一个同学，看着看着就出戏。

萍水相逢的两个女人，在异国，说英语。

因为天然的语言障碍，反而更加毫无防备地袒露真心。

拍照片的克莱尔有她的哲理——“You are now a different person, and I can feel it. ” 这我也相信。

拍过一次照片，看过你一次，一切都不一样了。

她都说 “If that’s how you see things, right or wrong, that’s how you see things, I respect that”。

不要试图去改变别人的心意，因为这没有用。

洪尚秀的电影，把打碎的时间线重新编排；克莱尔的相机，把过去的事情慢慢看一遍。

原来，rearrange & re-imagine，沉淀和思索，这才是改变别人或者改变自己唯一的办法。

在最低落的时候，有一刻与女性友人静静相处的时光，也会觉得松弛安慰。

就算生活中的灾难总是突然而至，我们也还是要找到办法自己为它道别。

真正有用的，不是拍一张勉强的合照，或者尴尬的相对。

而是，剪碎烦恼的布，封上记忆的箱子，轻轻地走开，那就这样吧。

#ICA#13112024 #二刷，内核非常贴近《北村方向》，整体失去了结构的变化只展现了小幅度的空间变化和大幅度时间变化，也是对照了克莱尔对于拍照的理解，“人不能两次踏进同一条河流”，照片和电影承载了对时间流逝和人性变化的哲学思考，影片也不仅仅是记录，更是对不可重现瞬间的记忆闪烁。

叙事上从被开除喝葡萄酒穿短裤的初次拍照到相约吃饭得知真相再拍照最后到随老板离去，相机所拍摄的照片似乎在试图定格他们彼时的情感和心理境遇的那无法控制的流动性，电影也是借此呈现角色情感如同河水流动般的变化。

叙事节奏还蛮好的，不过不知道为什么非要再回溯到被开除的打包环节，很不太喜欢。

讽刺的力度不是很强，但女主的主体性凸显的不错。

视觉上，变焦很有特点，zoom in转场呈现的是时间的回溯，zoom out转场则是时间流逝。

镜头语言很大程度呈现出了水流般碎片的质感。

#天幕新彩云#BIFF #06042018#一刷

clit2014, jan 2, 晚交了20天，我再也不想上gender studies了我要吐了，写这篇paper不知道经历了多少mental breakdownWomen’s Experience Matters: Redefining Feminist Cinema through Claire’s CameraAs Laura Mulvey points out in “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema”, traditional narrative cinema largely relies upon the practice of a gendered “gaze”, specifically, male’s unconscious objectification of female as erotic spectacle from which visual pleasure is derived. Her account draws attention to the prevailing feminist-unfriendly phenomena in contemporary cinema, one that resides in the language of patriarchy, privileging man’s experience while making woman the passive object deprived of autonomy. Many feminist filmmakers and theorists including Mulvey herself urge a radical strategy that dismantles patriarchal practice and frees woman from the state of being suppressed by the male-centered cinematic language.To conceptualize a mode of cinema that speakswoman’s language, or authentic feminist cinema, this essay interrogates the validity of Mulvey’s destruction approach in pursuing a feminist aesthetic. By making reference to Hong Sang-soo’s film, Claire’s Camera, I argue that feminist cinema needs to be redefined by neither the immediate rejection of gender hierarchy nor the postmodern notion of fluidity, but by perspectives that transcend the gendered metanarrative of subject vs. object, and that primarily represent and serve woman’s experience on both sides of the Camera. Earlier waves of feminism strived to call attention to, if not, eliminate the unbalanced power relation between men and women in the society, namely the dichotomy between domination and submission, superiority and inferiority, and self and other (Lauretis 115). Feminists such as Mary Wollstonecraft and Simone de Beauvoir radically interrogated women’s rights in the political arena as well as women’s relative position to men in the society at large. However, the approaches of the earlier waves cannot prove themselves sufficient in pursuit of a female autonomy, owing to the fact that they are constantly caught in the power-oriented metalanguage which inherently privileges one over another. While it is argued that the objectification of the “second sex” is oppressive in nature, for example, the assertion already marks the subject-object dynamics between men and women by default. It fails to propose non-power based gender narratives, while obliquely acknowledging that the language spoken in this context is inevitably characterized by phallocentric symbols, ones that prioritize self over other, subject over object, male over female. In thisregard, rather than rendering a perspective that exposes and dismantles patriarchy, the outcome of earlier feminist approaches inclines towards “replicating male ideology” (Mackinnon 59), reifying the omnipresence of the patriarchal language and reproducing the effects of patriarchy.A similar notion applies to defining feminist cinema. In terms of visual representation, feminist idealists encourage women to present their bodily spectacles, inviting interpretations free of erotic objectification. Despite the favorable receptions from the sex-positive side of the discourse, it is indiscernible as to whether these attempts truly free women from the dome of sex-negativism or reinforce the effect of the patriarchal language even more. This polarized debate, I believe, is due to the fact that the discourse is held captive by the language of patriarchy too powerful for one to extricate from, and that any rebellious gesture would appear to be an insufficient, passive rejection of the predominant ideology. To illustrate this point, Lauretis notes that Mulvey’s and other avant-garde filmmakers’ conceptualization of women’s cinema often associates with the prefix of “de-” with regards to “the destruction… of the very thing to be represented, …the deaestheticization of the female body, the desexualization of violence, the deoedipalization of narrative, and so forth” (175). The “de-” act does not necessarily configure a new set of attributes for feminist representation, but merely displays a negative reaction to a preexisting entity. It is important to be skeptical of its effectiveness in defining feminist cinema, as it implies certain extent of negotiation instead of spot-on confrontation with the previous value. A destructive feminist cinema can never provide a distinctive set of aesthetic attributes without having to seek to problematize and obscure the reality of a patriarchal cinema. In that regard, it is passive, dependent and depressed. More importantly, the question – how the destruction of visual and narrative pleasure immediately benefits women within the narrative and directly addresses female spectators – remains unanswered. TakingClaire’s Cameraas an example, the film destructs the notion of a gendered visual pleasure by presenting the camera as a reinvented gazing apparatus, one that differs from the gendered gaze, and instead brings novel perception into being. Normally, when characters are being photographed, mainstream filmmakers tend to introduce a viewpoint in alignment with the photographer’s position, enabling spectator’s identification; that is, the shot usually shifts to a first-person perspective so that spectators identify with the photographer gazing at the object who is in front of the camera. Claire’s Camera, however, abandons this first-person perspective while generating new meanings of the gaze. Claire ambiguously explains to So and Yanghye the abstract idea that taking photographs of people changes the photographer’s perception of the photographed object, and that the object is not the same person before their photograph was taken. The spectacle, although objectifiable in nature, is not so passive as being the object constructed upon, but rather constructs new signification upon the subject. The notion of the gaze is therefore re-presented with alternative insights. That being said, as I argued earlier, the destructive approach is not so sufficient an attempt at defining feminist cinema, because the way it functions nevertheless indulges feminist ideology in the role of passivity, deprived of autonomy and always a discourse dependent on and relative to the prepotency of patriarchy. In the conversation scene between So and Manhee, So, who is almost the age of Manhee’s father, criticizes her for wearing revealing shorts and heavy makeup. In a typically phallocentric manner, he insists that she has insulted her beautiful face and soul by self-sexualizing and turning into men’s erotic object. Despite the fact that the preceding scenes have no intention to eroticize the female body or sexualize her acts such that the visual pleasure is deliberately unfulfilled and almost completely excluded from the diegesis, So inevitably finds Manhee’s physical features provocative and without a second thought, naturally assumes that her bodily spectacle primarily serves man’s interest. This scene demonstrates that regardless of feminists’ radical destruction of visual pleasure, practitioners of patriarchal beliefs will not be affected at all; if any, the femininity enunciation only intensifies the social effects of patriarchy. The conversation between the two characters embodies the self-reflexive style of Hong Sang-soo’s filmmaking, in a sense that it fosters debates within the theoretical framework upon which it is constructed, and constantly counters itself in search of a deeper meaning, contemplating questions such as do we believe in what we practice, whether it is patriarchy or its opposite? And is anti-patriarchy feminism determined enough to prove itself a destructive force against patriarchy rather than a sub-deviant of a predominant ideology? The scene proves the drawback of a destructive strategy, that the way it operates nonetheless subscribes to a patriarchal manner, and that in order to escape the secondary position with respect to the phallocentric subject, more needs to be done other than problematizing the subject.To supplement the insufficiency of destruction, postmodern feminists such as Judith Butler proposes theoretical alternative to approach the discourse. Butler argues that gender is performative and fluid instead of a set of essential attributes. The notion of performativity indeed precludes the social effects of essentialism by introducing the idea of an identity continuum into gender politics, in ways that empower the socially perceived non-normative. On top of that, Butler believes that the categorization of sex “maintain[s] reproductive sexuality as a compulsory order”, and that the category of woman is an exclusive and oppressive “material violence” (17). Acknowledging the harms that essentialist perception of gender and sexuality entails, Butler bluntly negates the very categorization of woman. This radical negation, however, evades the reality that our whole understanding of the human race is based on gender categories, despite the corresponding inequalities generated from the instinctual categorization. In fact, it is when women as a collective community have come to the realization that the female gender is socially suppressed, that they start to strive for equality through the apparatus of feminism. Butler’s rejection of the gender categorization withdraws the sense of collectivism in the feminist community, which is “an important source of unity” for the marginalized (Digeser 668). Moreover, it deprives the feminist cinema of the necessity of delineating an authentic female representation, because within the notion of performativity there is no such thing as a fixed set of female representations but only distinctive individuals that conform to gender fluidity. Since identifying with a certain form of representation means to live up to a socially perceived norm from which one deviates, a performative cinema does not encourage spectator’s identification. The failed identification will not only drastically shift the spectator’s self-understanding but also cause more identity crises. Therefore, performativity is too ideal a theoretical concept to have actual real-life applications. Whether it is her body or her social function, woman has become the commodity of patriarchy. As Lauretis puts it, “she is the economic machine that reproduces the human species, and she is the Mother, an equivalent more universal than money, the most abstract measure ever invented by patriarchal ideology” (158). Woman’s experience has been portrayed in the cinematic realm nothing more than being the (m)other and the provocative body. Historical debates have proved that articulating the problematic tendencies within gender differences only results in skepticism rather than new solutions. Thus, in order to negotiate a feminist cinema, filmmakers need to abandon the patriarchal meta-language completely, and reconstruct new texts that represent and treasure woman’s experience more than just being the other, that “[address] its spectator as a woman, regardless of the gender of the viewers” (Lauretis 161). Similarly, what needs to be done in feminist cinema is more than just interrogating the gender difference between woman and man, but interpreting such difference in unconventional ways that liberate women from being compared to men and invite them to possibilities of having narratives dedicated to themselves. One of the ways, Lauretis suggests, is to regard woman as the site of differences (168). This signifies that the cinema needs to stop generalizing woman’s role based on her universal functions; rather, it needs to articulate her unique features, what makes her herself but not other women, from the way she looks to the trivial details of her daily life. In Claire’s Camera, the function of the camera conveniently transcends the diegetic space. In the narrative, it demarcatesthe “site of differences”, that is, how someone changes right after their photograph is taken, as well as how Manhee is presented differently each of the three times being photographed. The camera also magnifies her experience as a woman for spectator’s identification, mundane as it could be. In the last scene, the camera smoothly tracks Manhee organizing her belongings, packing box after box, casually talking to a colleague passing by, and so forth. Long takes like this fulfill what Lauretis would call “the ‘pre-aesthetic’ [that] isaestheticrather than aestheticized” in feminist cinema (159). Without commodifying or fetishizing woman and her acts, the film authentically represents a woman’s vision, her perception, her routines, and all the insignificant daily events which female spectators can immediately relate to. When a film no longer solely portrays woman as the “economic machine” that labors, entices men, and commits to social roles, it has confidently overwritten the patriarchal narrative with a female language. It fully addresses its spectator as a woman, appreciating and celebrating the female sex, not for what she does as a woman but for what she experiences. In conclusion, the essay first challenges the destructive approach in feminist cinema regarding its sufficiency in pursuit of woman’s autonomy and its indestructible destiny to fall back into patriarchy. The essay then argues that the rejection of gender categorization in performativity theory frustrates the mission of defining a female representation. Hong Sang-soo’s self-reflexive film, Claire’s Camera, offers an apparatus to delve into the drawbacks of destructive feminist cinema and simultaneously renders a new feminist code, abandoning the patriarchal metanarrative and constructing a new narrative that truly prioritizes woman’s experience.Works CitedButler, Judith. “Contingent Foundations: Feminist and the Questions of ‘Postmodernism.’”Feminists Theorize the Political, edited by Judith Butler and Joan W. Scott, Routledge, 1992, pp. 3–21.Digeser, Peter. “Performativity Trouble: Postmodern Feminism and Essential Subjects.” Political Research Quarterly, vol. 47, no. 3, 1994, pp. 655-673.Lauretis, Teresa de. “Aesthetic and Feminist Theory: Rethinking Women's Cinema.”New German Critique, no. 34, 1985, pp. 154–175.Lauretis, Teresa de. “Eccentric Subjects: Feminist Theory and Historical Consciousness.”Feminist Studies, vol. 16, no. 1, 1990, pp. 115–150.Mackinnon, Catherine A. “Desire and Power.”Feminism Unmodified: Discourses on Life and Law, Harvard University Press, 1987, pp. 46–62.Mulvey, Laura. “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.”The Norton Anthology and Theory and Criticism, edited by Vincent B Leitch, W. W. Norton, 2001, pp. 2181–2192.

洪尚秀，金敏喜，于佩尔，法国戛纳，13天左右的拍摄周期，于是，《克莱尔的相机》诞生了。

洪尚秀在胖哥心中的地位仅次于私生活同样异常活跃的伍迪艾伦，他们都是爱把电影拍成带点自传性质的伪知识分子。

他们两人最大的不同在于，伍迪艾伦的电影有不少电影化的语言，布景和调度是学院派的，然后融合进伍迪艾伦的审美特效，行程固定的类型模式。

而洪尚秀常常是反类型的，他的电影缺少电影化的语言，极少有镜头调度，那些看起来笨拙的“推进和拉出”是他顽固的作者性表征。

两人在表现“梦境”时的方式可谓形式主义和现实主义的两个极端。

伍迪艾伦在充满天才般创造力的场景中让人看到了天马行空的想象力和执行力，而胆大妄为的洪尚秀却把梦和现实混淆不清，暧昧不明，让现实侵入梦，把梦变成了现实。

在《独自在海边的夜晚》《自由之丘》《你自己与你所有》中，梦和现实的含混不明达到了令人气愤的巅峰。

那种美好刚刚抵达即刻抽身而去的坍塌感令人不适，倍感焦虑，甚至愤怒。

这次《克莱尔的相机》抛去了所有有关梦境的架构，用《自由之丘》中的非线性叙事，把一个异常无聊的故事玩出了几分花样。

万熙（我的女神金敏喜 饰）莫名其妙的上司辞职，这个她勤勤恳恳工作了5年的地方，在一次聊天中就被女老板辞退。

身处异国他乡，她一下子失去了生活的重心。

为什么被辞退？

这个答案被巴黎人克莱尔（很多人的女神于佩尔 饰）意外记录了下来。

第一次来到戛纳的法国人克莱尔带着相机四处采风，

在一天之内，她先后遇上了万熙，女老板和男导演。

在多次偶遇之后，她为几人拍下的照片让万熙明白了她被辞退的缘由，也理清楚了几人之间的关系，从意外、不解、气愤，到最后的释然。

这是一部三个女人和一个男人的故事。

于佩尔饰演的克莱尔是角色的中心，她串联了人物之间的关系，引发了剧情张力，制造了角色内心的情绪波澜，带来了偶然性的转变。

另外，洪尚秀还打乱了故事的前后顺序，是以人物为中心，而非时间为脉络的散点叙事。

其中，故事会交错，甚至会重复，插叙和倒叙不断交替，很多地方故意不说明白，却似乎又说到了点子上。

影片的故事异常简单，非线性叙事不过是为了提升观众的注意力，制造悬念，为简单的故事带来丰富的文本性外延。

影片里有一段非常有意思的谈话，类似于《自由之丘》中，男主角一直拿着的那本叫做《时间》的小说。

影片你，克莱尔说，“照片中的对象在被拍照之后就被改变了”。

对此，男导演一直不解，而万熙却给出了答案。

其实，克莱尔每一次遇见三位角色时，他们都发生着从内到外的变化。

万熙、女老板，男导演，包括克莱尔在内，四人之间的关系，各自的心理状态每次都大为不同。

洪尚秀这样解释：我猜我是有意做一部能引起多样反应的电影。

甚至对《之后》，有些人说它非常悲剧化，也有人说它很搞笑很有意思。

每个人，当其在电影中穿行的时候，都会捡起不同的碎片出来之后再尽力使这些碎片合理化。

我认为这是自然且最有益的。

在碎片化的故事中，洪尚秀用克莱尔和她的相机 ，以及拍下的照片制造了连接和沟通，而这种叙事切割，加上洪尚秀的个性化零调度让影片具有了“拟态现实”的模糊感。

电影本身会制造一个舞台感，给观众营造一个安全的距离，让观众知道故事的建构本质，同时也可以自由参与其中。

但洪尚秀的反类型模式，消解了距离感，以一种拟态真实，无限靠近现实，带有记录性质的镜头画面让观众在影片中看到了自己。

洪尚秀经常在影片中设置尴尬的相遇，无语的陪伴。

《克莱尔的相机》中，克莱尔主动和男导演搭讪，两人一开始交流的非常轻松，可当男导演主动要求和克莱尔坐在一起时，两人随即“聊死”，气氛晓得格外尴尬。

男导演自顾自的喝咖啡，克莱尔拿出了手机翻看，两人长时间无交流，画面凝固，时间浓稠。

这场戏是对于距离感精妙隐喻，适当的距离带来交流的可能，而距离的消失让安全感隐退，焦虑开始陡升，美感被破坏。

洪尚秀消灭舞台，让观众在零距离范围内和角色产生共鸣，这种带有逼迫性质的要挟，使得影片有着情绪凌迟般的苦痛。

这种风格让洪尚秀的电影从淡然中放大了情感的蛛丝马迹。

原来，观众可以影片中的角色一样，如此敏感，如此透明，如此喜怒无常。

我们被这种释义空间巨大的剧情所操控，主动开始去填空，用自我的经历，自我的情感去弥补叙事中有意留下的缝隙。

由此，我们最终在洪尚秀的电影中看到了自己，毕竟都是些男男女女的纠葛缠绕，而谁不是个“有点故事”的人呢？

还是典型洪尚秀，依然生活化，但更加随性。

洪尚秀电影的观感总是看似乏味又尴尬，不带有直观上的目的性。

结尾也不常带有主观的升华， 好像是出门走进咖啡店里就能看见的场景 。

克莱尔说“拍下照片的一瞬间，你就不再是刚才的你了” 让我想起梁文道在《我执》里的一段描述：“这一刻的自己和上一刻的自己必然是不同的，现在正在写字的自己要比前一分钟的自己多写了一个句子，所以这前后，有两个人的存在。

为了让我们必须实现昨天的承诺，偿还过去负下的罪债，而不是以“当日的我和现在的我不是同一个人”来推搪回避。

” 克莱尔这番哲学意味的话对万熙和导演都说了，是刻意还是巧合？

她手中的相机亦或是观众的眼睛，捕捉到这个故事， 完整的呈出，等待着评判。

动机、道德、底线，这些因素都来不及思考之时，最先浮现的还是人性，可她究竟是万熙还是金敏喜好像都变得不再重要，她就像水，透明纯真，实则却又虚无，只隐约存在于映射水波的光线中。

洪的电影记录着大多是发生中的，正被遗忘的，或想要掩盖的。

大众道德里的批判性，讽刺的对话设计，推拉镜头中放大的真实性情，让人无法抽离自我。

小餐馆的烧酒与寿司，海边的踱步，窗边吐出的烟圈。

全都裹满情绪的外衣在言语中流淌。

那落下的每一滴，都是孤独的宣泄，欲望的本性。

某刻，你也许会真实的为过去感到羞耻，但那只是上一刻的你我，没有必要去掩盖的过去。

爱看洪尚秀的人，我想大概是生活中多愁善感，善于品尝人生细微滋味的人。

电影里尴尬美学流露的温情，观看时甚至产生倦意，过后也许会淡忘，或是逐渐消失殆尽，但那一刻还是会泪流满面。

在电影中捡拾记忆碎片，在湖面下寻着目的。

试图发现或选择坦诚这些奥秘，通过电影放出那些隐藏的自己，虚幻的自己，对立的自己。

又或许可以去尝试游走在其中，享受着虚无，放弃故事性的辩证，抛弃对立面的存在，不要再寻找所谓的好和坏。

面对湖泊时，享受着波光粼粼或是索性闭上双眼，仅仅靠声响去探寻丢入的石子，然后幻想着涟漪的模样。

生活化的洪尚秀电影 我想应该是梦境里出现的最接近生活的湖泊了。

习惯了精致的电影刚开始会觉得只有看似“小儿科”的推拉拍摄手法、英语书对话式的台词、尴尬的表演…像是戛纳的电影吗？

是洪尚秀导演的作品吗？

是年代比较久远电影的摄影艺术还在研究吗？

慢慢的会发现这部电影是细腻的、直白的，没有过多的技巧，只运用了基本的推拉、变焦、一镜到底，看似尴尬的英文对话，但它确实这部电影里的唯一语言，洪尚秀能在短短的七十分钟内成熟的打造一个环绕结构，将金敏喜得美表达的特别细腻，中间那段无厘头的谩骂高潮其实特别的强，台词里暴露出苏导演对“美女”的刻板印象，女老板对万熙的嫉妒，克莱尔对万熙美的欣赏，以及万熙自己内心的温柔和细腻，与其说是三个人对万熙的美的影响，不如说是洪尚秀对金敏喜美的三种不同幻想吧，化身为中年女老板的嫉妒、男导演的爱而不得、女摄影师将她视为灵感缪斯的模特….三个不同身份的人对万熙的美产生了不同的影响，人物刻画十分成熟。

看似儿戏的呈现手法，实则是一部十分成熟的电影，就像是洪尚秀的随笔，最浪漫最令人佩服的是，洪尚秀导演边参加戛纳边花9天时间拍摄出这部属于金敏喜的《克莱尔的相机》。