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.
太喜欢这个风格了，视听真的很棒，每次这个配乐一起来，丧的情绪就已经到位了，自我救赎与复仇执念，看似走向光明的未来，却没能算到少年意气，最后宿命般的完成使命，坦然迎接结局，只是在最后却又留有了一点光明和希望，爱就是生活的意义。
做闷了我一般很难看进去
蛮平平无奇的，赌博、复仇、救赎哪条线都没讲好，不是结局监狱和足足五分钟的食指相碰的话可能只想打两个星（🤤谁的爹
往事虽然过去，但是记忆过不去;暴力已经成为往事，但是躯体里已然充满暴力，想要达到心理平衡是多么困难的事，打牌赌钱，奔波往来，都无济于事
（7.3/10）《算牌人》的电影与其主角一样冷峻，施拉德创作的角色William是一个自我审判者，视赎罪为唯一目的，为赎罪不计任何后果。而正如他算牌的经验之谈，打出任何牌都会产生后果。Finally, he tilted.
It's not bad, ”but…it's repetitive. ”
零碎的情感，莫名的人物关系，来无影去无踪的生活，这些可能正是PTSD患者的写照。这种表现方式有点像洋蓟-本体没什么正经东西，吃完有后劲。
施拉德男主都用同一个日记本吗…片尾盯着两只手几分钟…这招太难受了
相互救赎连连碰，充斥着强烈的沉稳孤独浪漫压迫感。
深渊永远是深渊，凝视是残忍的，无论如何视而不见，它总就在那里。(没看懂、也不会再看….
男主真帅，女主最后突然很美。整体非常正能量的一部片子。
真实表现要比评分好看多了，是伊萨克的独角戏，只是我看的字幕太烂了让我有点生气。可能会有些许沉闷，气氛上也一直冷漠而又疏离，22分钟第一个鱼眼镜头出现以后这部电影才开始真正散发魅力，本身故事和打牌没什么太大联系。
想看施拉德拍《出租车司机》……性冷淡的表演搭配性冷淡的配乐营造出一种虚无的迷幻气息，而先验性的影像恰让观众看到了布列松新世纪通过数字媒介所延续的一种可能。Oscar Isaac可以说是年度最迷人的男性银幕形象，在存在主义的救赎中竟创造了反传统的皈依，而罪恶永远无法抹除，在审讯的囚牢中我们仍旧看到收敛的刺激感以及来自地狱深渊凝望人性的恶魔
What did I just watch😳泰和Oscar🤯Ending好听
6.7。这2种题材融合在一起还真是不好拍，画面和摄影手法都挺不错，音乐也可以，好好拍赌片不挺好的嘛，剧情拉垮了
比《第一歸正會》難看不少。尋求救贖的男人總喜歡在一塵不染的房間裡頭寫字自省哦！可真把WSOP拍得毫無競技性可言。那個USA真是牌技高超的白男沙雕，演員搭配和表演調度看得怪尷尬的。這片子各方面都人工且直白，賭場裝潢不洋氣，但電影不能這麼不講究的吧。
2.5；看的时候就觉得是在pandemic期间用无人的赌场拍的，一查Wikipedia果然，用了六天就拍完了。Paul Schrader还是安心写剧本吧，好的影评人未必是好导演。
为了Oscar daddy看的 朋友给我说才知道导演居然是出租车司机同一个
《第一归正会》中的喻体：环保议题本身与救赎主题无关，因此处理得游离且荒诞，拓展出黑色幽默式的修辞；这一部里的喻体其实就是赌牌，它仍然浮于主题的表面，却被刻画得抒情又板正，最终甚至导致了电影情境的崩盘——建议把《出租车司机》忘了吧！
导演和音乐很不错，故事到后面有点崩，让我有些昏昏欲睡。
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