女人的战争～单身汉杀人事件～

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.

于佩尔和金敏喜的阵容，反而让这部电影的平庸变成了糟糕，不过想到片场才一个小时也就稍微能够理解它的平庸。

一个小时的时长就表明了它并不着重于叙述一个故事，镜头频繁的转换和剪辑的琐碎在我看来，更像是一次又一次突然萌发的心情，正如影片当中克莱尔在诉说自己的敏感时提到，照片的当下，这个人在此瞬间和此一时的不同。

变幻莫测的心情，和姑且能看做灵感涌现的狂躁，拼凑在一起，就是为了成全导演的个人的妄想。

全片，金小姐美的无以复加，这种滤镜下的美通过精致的角度和看似随意的风情呈现出来，以及口音浓重的英语口音当中的俏皮，让万熙这个人物越发显得飘忽不定，这种飘忽吸引了中年男性，这种飘忽又让中年男性恐惧，所以电影当中才会出现导演对万熙穿的热裤，指责为“短裙”的一番说教，这种说教当中是一夜情偶发下的占有欲，也是对神秘生物忌惮、无所适从下的穷横。

尤其在不确定的当下，这种穷横有了自我安慰的借口。

所以在被告知有男朋友前，导演对万熙念念不忘，而后呢，开除了万熙的老板又重新聘用了她。

至于于阿姨，抱歉的是，全片只要她和金小姐一起出现，屏幕就溢出一阵百合香气。

于阿姨是真的受，于阿姨也是真的，起码在剧中我完全忘了这个有些神叨叨，有些艺术家的女性，是于佩尔。

最后，希望洪尚秀导演再也不要故作聪明的想拍出心中缪斯女神的美了，白白糟践了金小姐。

我通常喜欢电影有独特的立意、完美的逻辑和有意思的剧情，再加上优质的拍摄、音乐、节奏等等。

但洪尚秀的作品是个例外，很少见如此随性的编剧兼导演，就是随意的遇到一个想法就简单的实现了。

但是，却带有独特洪式随性的魅力。

这部片子很短，就69分钟。

在戛纳电影节期间9天拍摄1天初剪完成，是个尬片，集各种尬聊之大成。

剧情很简单，许多小笑点，又是通过剪辑手段把观众扔进云里雾里的；每部有金敏喜的片子，都能把她从第一眼一个还不错的妮子拍得越来越美，越来越迷人；音乐很舒缓，十分配合如此随性却又细腻的拍摄手法。

看完全片，大家对故事的理解可能都不太相同，这都是拜洪导剪辑的功力，给大家留得想象空间。

看完，脑子里出现剧中各种人与人之间的关系，这也是每次洪导最喜欢探讨的部分吧。

跟随洪导的步伐，随性的写下这个感想。

还想说，迷人的于佩尔阿姨那么美，金敏喜也真是美，这个梗看过的同学会懂得，嘻嘻，洪式洗脑。

哈哈哈，我要爱死了老洪这个推拉摇移的镜头了，多么不屑，多么随意，多么暧昧，多么犹豫徘徊胆怯摇摆无立场。

老洪真是个艺术家。

敏敏说英语太好听了，hahaha，像个初高中学习很好又很乖巧的小姑娘。

如果把镜头推到腰肢或者胸腹，停一秒，我感觉能看到一个高中低年级女生的“抽条感”。

看老洪的电影，看着看着就笑了。

是看到某个地方，会心一笑。

哈哈哈，太可爱了，又太尴尬了。

有种低落的淘气和自恋。

用我一片文章的话就是“不屈服的温柔狰狞”。

不过老洪还不算狰狞，我觉得他年轻的时候一定“狰狞”过。

这个电影拍的真的好随意啊，不是老洪最好的电影。

是“发行商写字楼味道”的老洪。

不是“海味”的老洪，不是“艺术家味”的老洪，更不是“烧酒瓶味”的老洪。

即便这部电影里这些元素都出现了，但这电影真的很一般，在老洪所有的电影里。

我为什么讨厌婚宴，一个桌子上总有海参和鲍鱼，甚至一个盘子里。

海参和鲍鱼能顿一起吗？

好像也能，但这个一百加一百小于一的事情，我很讨厌。

以后千万不要把敏敏和于佩尔放一起了，即便佩姨是我们老于家的人，即便是一个天才导演，但真的做不出等于二百的东西来，更别说要出现事半功倍的效果了。

老洪真是爱拍漂亮女孩子抽烟啊。

能把抽烟的女孩子拍的如此不做作，如此自然，真的好会选角色啊。

我爱老洪。

老洪的电影是我的顾影自怜。

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？

很多人喜欢洪尚秀，这是不争的事实。

但是这第一个镜头就来了个变焦，实在是让人分分钟出戏，这别出心裁的癖好还会让人感到一点眩晕。

再说这个金敏喜，在洪尚秀的电影里，这个女人永远是哭哭啼啼的，睡眼惺忪的，忧愁的，弱不禁风的样子，柔弱地让人不知道她受了多大的委屈。

要不是喜欢于佩尔阿姨，要不是想借着电影吹一吹戛纳的海风，这片子真的是够乏闷无聊的。

同样是以戛纳为背景的创作，科波拉那部《你好安妮》实在是比这个无病呻吟的片好太多。

大概这是导演到了戛纳灵感闪现，想练练手，才有了这样一部即兴的创作。

于佩尔的演技全程都在线，活脱脱一个少女，毕竟自家的地盘，但是这剧情有点故弄玄虚。

倒是中餐馆这段对白很有哲理，拍照也是即兴创作，一种随性的生活方式。

改变事物唯一的方式，就是仔细地观察它。

#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

克莱尔与万熙的相遇，到底发生在克莱尔与导演相遇之前还是之后？

理清这个问题，成为了解决《克莱尔的相机》叙事难题的关键。

因为一如既往，洪尚秀继续在电影中打乱叙事的时间线，留待读者去猜测和解析。

线索藏在了克莱尔为万熙和导演拍下的照片中，正是在两次观看照片的过程，将矛盾激发了出来。

首先我们看到，克莱尔在与导演一起就餐时（一同的还有万熙的女上司，正是她强行解雇了万熙），克莱尔偶然拍下的万熙照片被导演看到了，导演疑惑万熙怎么还留在戛纳，她理应已经回国才是。

这说明了克莱尔为万熙拍照的事件发生在克莱尔与导演相遇之前，不然无法说清这张照片从何而来。

但接下来，当克莱尔与万熙一起在住的地方吃韩国料理的时候，相似的场面再次发生了：万熙在翻看克莱尔拍摄的照片时看到了导演的身影，这张照片正是克莱尔在餐馆与导演一同就餐时拍摄的（电影之前交代了这个动作）。

但克莱尔没有向万熙说明导演也认识万熙，在餐厅上他们还一起谈论过她。

如果与导演的偶遇发生在与克莱尔相遇之前，克莱尔理应会向万熙说明这些情况的，她没有隐瞒的任何动机。

这个矛盾说明了两种可能，要么洪尚秀抛弃了现实生活的运作逻辑，将两次相遇弄成是在两个平行空间发生的事情；要么我们必须从电影给出的其他信息中找到新的线索，来解释此处的逻辑错误。

如果是前一种可能，整部电影很可能因此失去魅力——既然现实的逻辑也可以超越，那么还有必要玩弄时间线的错乱吗？

这是没有意义的。

所以，最终我们只剩下从后一种情形中去找到突破口，来将所有动作在现实生活中还原。

整部电影最奇妙的一处地方在于：克莱尔和万熙相遇并一同前往万熙的住处去吃韩国料理之前，她重新折回与导演一同就餐的餐馆，拿回了她遗落在那里的米色风衣；当克莱尔拿回风衣折回时，克莱尔正等在门口。

这是整部电影中惟一一处三位主角同时处于同一个时空，虽然万熙与导演并没有相互见到。

作为中介的克莱尔于是成为万熙与导演两方沟通的桥梁：此刻，不仅万熙还不知道克莱尔之前一同与导演就餐过，导演也不知道克莱尔与万熙“再次”相遇了。

就是在这里，我们开始搞不清楚克莱尔与万熙、克莱尔与导演相遇时间的前后。

只有等到下一个镜头的出现，谜团才能解开。

这一个镜头显然发生在更早之前，紧接着万熙被女上司解雇之后：穿着超短牛仔裤和宽松T恤的万熙倚靠在栏杆上，背向着观众。

先是穿着正装、即将前往活动的导演发现她，并前来和她说话，对她过于暴露的穿着和浓重的妆容发表了一通义愤填膺的职责。

然后克莱尔出现了，拍了一张照片后匆忙离开。

而这张照片正是导演在餐桌上翻看克莱尔的照片时发现的那张，而不是克莱尔在海边与万熙相遇时为她拍下的那一组照片中其中的一张。

如何解决最开始提出的那个谜团？

我想这里已经给出了最终的答案。

我们说，克莱尔与万熙的相遇，既发生在克莱尔与导演相遇之前，也发生在克莱尔与导演相遇之后。

这样讲并不是说克莱尔有一种超越时空的能力，不是的；而是因为克莱尔在酒店平台上与万熙的相遇只是匆匆一别，两个人并没有相识，克莱尔当时很可能并没有记住万熙的脸。

因此，当克莱尔后来在海边再次偶遇万熙的时候，她并没有认出对方就是酒店平台上站立的那位美丽女子，而是直接把她当成了另一个人。

这解释了为何当万熙在看到克莱尔拍下的导演照片时，克莱尔没有说她已经告诉了导演她和万熙相遇过的事情。

因为在克莱尔看来，她遇到的其实是两个人。

而洪尚秀在电影中设置的微小元素，也帮助解释了这个可能。

站在酒店平台上的万熙与她平时优雅的打扮非常不同，而且还花了浓妆，克莱尔在与导演吃饭时也提到了她在酒店平台上遇到的女子脸上的妆很浓，导演也感到惊讶，因为万熙平时并不是这样妆扮的。

因此，唯一的可能是克莱尔在海边与万熙相遇时并没有认出她，她觉得看到的是和酒店平台上站立的那位女子不同的人。

这解释了我们在将打乱的时间线还原时遭遇的困境，如果在克莱尔看来，遇到的是两个女人，那么一切都说清楚了。

整个故事可以还原如下：万熙被解雇；万熙因航班问题继续留在戛纳；克莱尔在酒店平台上遇到万熙，她刚刚从巴黎来到戛纳，也许是为了放下携带的行李；克莱尔在咖啡店门口偶遇的导演，一起和导演到图书馆找书并教他念诗，然后是两人一些吃饭，吃饭时导演翻照片的时候发现了万熙；克莱尔吃完饭后就走了，但忘记拿风衣；在海边，克莱尔再次遇到万熙，但没认出来，以为是又一个陌生人，两人相约去万熙住的地方一起吃韩国料理，然后中途克莱尔想起风衣拉在餐馆，于是回去拿，万熙在门口等她；两个人去住处吃韩国料理，饭毕一起看照片，万熙发现导演的照片；最后是女助手来找万熙。

还有一些疑问，比如最后的那个镜头是发生在万熙解雇之前，也就是说和第一个镜头发生的时间基本同一；还是说这个动作是所有动作结束后才发生的，也即女助手找到万熙后，将她重新复职，万熙做回了原先的工作。

但与我们前面解决的根本问题相比，这已经不算是什么问题了。

两种情况都有可能，这无非是“狡猾”的洪尚秀设置的又一个迷惑点，就像克莱尔手上的那台相机真的是向导演克莱尔德尼借来那样，只能提供一丝趣味，却在根本意义上造成理解的困难，观众想以哪个角度理解都可以。

并且不要忘记电影中出现的导演伏在沙发上背向观众沉睡的镜头，整部电影都可以解读为是他做的一个梦（这都是洪尚秀的雕虫小技了）但对于那个根本问题的解决，却无法这般马虎，我们得说：真实的情况是克莱尔在海边没有认出万熙，将两次遇到的同一个人当作了两个人。

今天，放假无聊的于佩尔阿姨带着相机，在法国遇到了几个韩国人。

一个韩国男人跟她用英语尬聊：Where are you from?I am from KoreaOh, so you are korean...Then where are you from?I am from PairsSo you are French...说了几句废话之后，两人到了图书馆。

男人让于佩尔阿姨读了一首一个快25岁男子想要去死的故事后来于佩尔阿姨遇到了金敏喜，两大文艺女神商业互吹。

于佩尔：You look like an artist, it makes me feel good金敏喜：I am not an artist, I wish I was.其实这两人不用尬聊，光同框已经让姬圈姐妹们及文青们疯狂了然后金敏喜发表了对自己的职业销售的看法：Selling is no fun , we should not sell anything哦豁，这实在太符合文艺女神人设了，但是别的销售要哭了哦豁，中年男导演实在有些油腻了（可能洪导演在自嘲）BTW，他拍的金敏喜是真好看，于佩尔和金敏喜手拉手的时候我总是很兴奋怎么回事

哈哈哈哈这应该是目前看的最随性的电影了吧，洪尚秀的极简主义又一次展现得淋漓尽致。

克莱尔手中的相机就像人在面对生活的挡箭牌，化解了一切尴尬、生硬、附和、无用的人际交往，导演一直喜欢去社会中人与人之间的交流问题，虚伪、口是心非等等，虽然看起来是善意友好，实际上只是在浪费时间。

洪尚秀镜头里的男人总是反复无常与懦弱，这部也一样非常有趣，当然，她镜头下的女神是绝美的，金敏喜和于佩尔可是缪斯啊！