故园风雨后

Contra mundum这个短语源自阿塔纳修坚持主张三位一体同在，反阿里乌斯主义而遭流放的故事。

阿塔纳修坚持自己信仰的真理而与全世界做对，相信自己与全世界作对但与神同在。

塞巴斯蒂安第一次带查尔斯前往故园时说contra mundum，他大概相信身边这个朋友是理想中的朋友，是两个人可以执手对抗世界。

此处我想到了《莫里斯》中的一句话：At times he entertained the dream. Two men can defy the world.凡是经历过这样的情感的人，都会明白contra mundum两个词里蕴含的勇气和希望，人甚至因为爱而自由。

查尔斯是塞巴斯蒂安挣脱家庭和宗教束缚的绳索，并非没有查尔斯此人的出现塞巴斯蒂安就要分崩离析，而是他的出现让他看到了发自内心的快乐的可能。

我没有看过原著和81版，08版电影饱受诟病的一点就是它把主题简化为双性恋的爱情，但我觉得这只是非常浅薄的一个层面。

塞巴斯蒂安对查尔斯的感情会因为影版中的一个吻大变质吗？

有无一个暧昧的接吻并不影响塞巴斯蒂安对查尔斯超越情欲的爱。

他们首先是挚友，但我想要强调的是，在塞巴斯蒂安和查尔斯的关系中，是塞巴斯蒂安单方面对查尔斯持有这种崇敬的、奉若神明的爱，如果他们的感情是双向平等的也就不会有塞巴斯蒂安最后流落摩洛哥的结局。

初看时最为触动的台词是脆弱又美丽的塞巴斯蒂安在那个夏日说：If it could only be like this always – always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe... 在当下就开始追忆当下是过分珍惜的标志，也是悲剧的开端。

但是它动人的谜底其实在塞巴斯蒂安在摩洛哥身患重病，查尔斯最后一次见他时，塞巴斯蒂安说的话：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. This is my life now. I am happy here. 没有关系，我向你要求得太多，我一直都知道，真的。

只有上帝能给你那种爱。

这是我的生活了，我在这里很快乐。

塞巴斯蒂安明明没有对查尔斯有任何行动上的要求，却说“我向你要求得太多”，因为他要求的是另一个人以他这样深刻的情感联结的方式爱他。

虽说他是对查尔斯说，“只有神明能给你这样的爱”，其实这话也说给他自己。

影版的故事并非不是一个充满宗教救赎色彩的故事，塞巴斯蒂安的神明曾经是查尔斯，但是他又预见到了此般夏日不可能长存，明知必然失去却依旧将其奉为“伟大的朋友”，在凡人之间十八九必是悲剧，除非遇到那个另一个自我。

在摩洛哥的塞巴斯蒂安真的快乐吗？

大概是一种看破红尘的空寂，平静而空虚，离开了控制他的人生的家庭，失去了曾以为可以一起对抗世界的朋友兼爱人，或许更糟，后者从不是一个可以跟他一起对抗世界的人。

但是在假象拆穿之后，念及柔情，他还是dear Charles查尔斯这个塞巴斯蒂安心中单向的爱人，究竟意味着什么，他绝不是一个可有可无，任何有着相似条件的人就能够替代的人。

这关涉到“爱人”意味着什么。

“你不像任何人，因为我爱你。

”爱是可以说出contra mundum的感情，是生存的勇气。

当塞巴斯蒂安的梦被查尔斯和他姐姐接吻打碎时，他失去的不仅是一个幻想中的爱人，还有他在重重束缚中面对生活的勇气我个人非常不喜爱查尔斯，他是一个明知塞巴斯蒂安的感情，明知自己无法同等地奉还，依旧享受其中的利益而不知收手的人。

其实人都是这样贪心又为平庸的理由牵绊的，但我私心希望塞巴斯蒂安爱上的那个人比他更好一些，希望他是一个圣徒，可以成为塞巴斯蒂安生命中的活着的神明，或许那样他就不至于整日买醉最后自我流放。

近来觉得自己越来越过成自己曾经喜爱的文学和影视作品中的模样，或许是双向的选择和影响作祟，但有一些故事和感情作为故事来看是动人的、美好的，但没有人真的希望自己是那个自我流放到摩洛哥的塞巴斯蒂安。

希望大家都能找到那个contra mundum的人，但是那个曾经幸福地对抗世界的人是与上帝一同对抗世界，凡人不行。

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. This is my life now.

Everything这么这么美的Sebastian Flyte，和Charles Ryder的相遇就说了自己最想要的最不可求的爱和快乐。

To art and love. 他不像其他的贵公子们，嘲笑着Charles的出生，他带着Charles来到了Brideshead，当他揭开雕像的白纱时，这成了一切的开始，故事的开始，是他最美的时候，也成了最好的回忆。

Sebastian 怀有浪漫的爱，羡慕Charles有着明确的人生目标，听到Charles说自己想成为画家之后，一直称Charles为艺术家。

他静静地坐在喷泉旁边，喝着藏在帽子底下的香槟；一边泡澡一边和Charles下着棋，输了，任性的扫走棋子；在故园的傍晚，和Charles喝着不同的酒，似乎连喝酒这件事情都变的这么美好。

他说If only it could be like this always. 身边有着爱的人，看着美丽的风景，喝着自己最爱的酒，如果一直是这样，Sebastian可能就不会有这么绝望和心碎的眼神了。

他绝望于永远无法逃离这深入骨髓的信仰，心碎于自己爱的人舍弃了自己。

来到威尼斯，疯狂的夜晚，站在河对岸，看到Charles亲吻了自己妹妹。

来到小教堂，Charles想要解释什么，伸出食指，嘘...... ...... 转身，Always Alone...... ...... Sebastian落寞的背影，心碎的眼神，我大概是要为之伤心了。

他看着你的时候，是真的很爱的你的感觉；他听你说话的时候，是真的全身心的相信你所说的话。

哪怕你下一秒说要毁灭这个世界的时候，他也一定递上武器给你，陪着你向前冲去。

是这样的爱啊～他未曾责怪迁怒过任何人，他喝酒，他醉酒，沉醉在日日夜夜的酒精中，是想不要面对这令人心碎的一切，喝垮了自己的身体，却未曾对Charles说出过一句责怪的话。

哪怕是妹妹在21岁的成人礼上宣布订婚，第一时间来到了Charles身边，想要安慰他。

I am a sinner. Cast out from God's love.如果人类的出生就伴随着原罪的话，那么Sebastian在遇到Charles之后，就开始了自己的赎罪。

如果深入骨髓的信仰是深埋的火线，那么Charles的舍弃就成了一切的导火索。

远离了自己的家人，远离了囚禁着自己的故园，在摩洛哥忍受着身体的病痛。

阳光透过树荫，他闭着眼睛，洒在身上的阳光，身旁的绿荫；他转头睁开双眼，看到Charles慢慢走到自己眼前，大概这一切能够用一句 哀默大于心死来形容。

我这个罪人，不受上帝的眷顾，在这里赎罪。

在牛津，Sebastian对Charles说：It's so clever fo you, knowing what you want. I have no idea what I want. Except to be happy. If I can.在河边，Sebastian对Charles说：Just the place to bury a crock of gold. I should like to bury something precious in every place where I have been happy. And, then, when I was old and ugly and miserable, I could come back and dig it up and remember.在故园，Sebastian对Charles说：If only it could be like thsi always. Always summer. Always alone. Fruit always ripe.在威尼斯，Sebastian对Charles说：Why this is hell, nor am I out of it.在摩洛哥，Sebastian对Charles说：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. This is my life now. I am happy here.

Sorrow如果电影到这里就结束，那么这是一部令人心碎却不舍的电影。

离了Charles的Sebastian在摩洛哥，离了Sebastian的Charles在伦敦，继续着各自的赎罪，不能结束，直到闭上双眼，滑下罪孽的十字架，请求上帝的宽恕。

其实因为小本这么出彩的表演，我对后面半段的电影并没有继续的期望（因为离了小本）。

可是Sebastian的父亲，最后死在故园里，还是让我深深的看了一番。

逃离了宗教，逃到了意大利，一边说着宗教让我厌恶的话，临死，还是祈求着被原谅，自己的孩子看到他划十字架时的长舒一口气，这真的是深入到骨髓的信仰。

如果再重新来一次，我想Sebastian会说 Run away. Run far away and don't ever look back. 可能最好的结局 就是放开一切。

Sebastian跨越了千山万水，伤透了自己的心，是否在摩洛哥的养护院里找到了自己的宁静？

Charles是否真的爱Julie？

可我相信Charles是真的热爱艺术，才能画出令人赞叹的Jungle，也是会在最开始说出 Because a camera is a mechanical device which records a mment in time, but not what that moment means for 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. 如果他是为了证明自己才去爱Julie，那么我是真的相信他是喜欢过Sebastian的，所以才会在故园的傍晚接受了亲吻，哪怕就这么一瞬，也是遵从了自己的感受的。

索尔仁尼琴说：永远不要鼓励人们去寻求快乐，因为快乐本身不过是市场的一个偶像罢了。

而应该鼓励人们互爱。

一头野兽在咆哮眼前的猎物时会感到快乐，而我们人只有在互爱时感受到爱，这是人类可以取得的最高成就。

小本那一眼，是万年，是千言，是放手。

「If you asked me now who I am, the only answer I could give with any certainty 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 from which I am still in flight. Guilt.」「If only it could be like this always. Always summer. Always alone. Fruit always ripe.」「I act only as God directs.↓Rubbish. God's your best invention. Whatever you want, he does.」「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.」「I miss you.↓How sweet of you to say that. Dear Charles, it was my fault for bringing you to Brideshead. Run away. Run far away and don't ever look back.」「I always thought you were the lamb to be slaughtered, when all along it is they who are hunted. They really is no end to your hunger, is there, Charles?」「You tell me. Please, tell me. What does Charles Ryder really want?」

Julian Jarrold的古典风格，我是极为喜欢的。

我这里引用的“古典风格”并非特指一个时间上的古典，而是影像的细腻。

如此细腻使得影像和小说达成某种节奏上的一致，就像铺了水的大理石台上自由滑动的玻璃茶杯，顺然得由此及彼，毫无障碍。

影像里人物的动作、表情都不多不少，恰到好处。

比如Charles第一次受邀去见Sebastian，Sebastian坐在那里剥鹌鹑蛋，直到Charles进来，Sebastian把自己剥好的鹌鹑蛋给他，仿佛是事先就预备好的食物。

其实，我很难说清楚，到底这里所谓的“古典风格”究竟是什么？

或许正像克尔凯郭尔在《恐惧与战栗》的序言中说的，“我们时代的人们都不在信念之处止步，而是径直前行”。

而古典影像，恰恰在“径直前行”之处多多少少的有所止步、有所悬疑。

古典影像，似乎就是在这里、这些个悬疑之处，开始了对人物内心情感的不尽探索。

Julian Jarrold导演的这部“Brideshead Revisited”，为人诟病的反倒不是对原著小说的肆意改编，从电影本身来说，而是Julian Jarrold似乎从影片一开始就设置了某种不完整性。

什么意思呢？

问题就出在Charles身上。

一方面我们觉得导演对Charles这个角色的塑造不够深入，正如有些人提到的，Charles始终没有在电影中展开自己的内心挣扎，包括在他以军官的身份重访布赖兹赫德庄园之时，导演也只是轻描淡写般掠过。

另一方面，败笔之处，又恰恰是Julian Jarrold自己有意在这么做。

比如影片一开始，Charles的独白里有说到，“我再也无法辨别这些情感，到底是我自己的，还是从那些我曾经无限的渴望中窃取的”。

经历了那么多之后，对于Charles来说，竟然只剩下了唯一的，也是他认为属于自己的、纯粹的，内疚（guilt）（不安、悔恨）。

也许这是导演有意设置的一个位置呢，让Charles像夏日午后的一阵暖风，吹进布赖兹赫德庄园里面的晦暗角落，待其觉察自己要离开之时，已然阴冷，这是他始料未及的。

（不得不说，Julian Jarrold电影的符号性非常强，并不是我有意牵强，比如Charles和Julia第一次碰面，是车辆彼此掠过之时的短暂一瞥，而在影片末尾，同样又是车辆彼此掠过之后的短暂一瞥，只不过，这一次，把原先还执意着要逃离布赖兹赫德庄园的Julia，彻底的留在了布赖兹赫德庄园。

）假如Charles果真就是一阵夏日午后的暖风，那么我们又能对一阵暖风追问什么呢？

但是偏偏的，Julian Jarrold把电影里的人物推到了这么一个位置，推到一个绝境之中。

那么这究竟是如何的一个绝境呢？

Charles和Sebastian之间的英伦式友谊，对于两个人各自的分量是不一样的，到后来Charles去摩洛哥找到Sebastian时候，Sebastian说，我要的太多了。

这孩子实在聪明的很，也许他早就觉察了Charles并不会最终陪伴他，但是没想到的是，这个事实来的那么直接那么突然。

威尼斯之夜，彻底改变了这部戏的重心。

Charles和Julia之间的感情以一种突袭般的冲动，豁然荡开，这个决口只听得风声，不见洪水。

而经由威尼斯之夜，Sebastian则被离弃到一个无人照看之地，剩下的似乎也只有决绝的离弃。

假如说，Sebastian的位置是离弃的位置，对于布赖兹赫德庄园的离弃（以自我离弃的方式离弃母亲）；Julia的位置还在浮动，在一个属于布赖兹赫德庄园的围墙的位置；那么，Charles的位置又是在哪里呢？

Charles和Sebastian之间那若有若无的同志之恋，始终没有明晰，如此不明晰，导致了最终的，Charles对Sebastian的拒绝（在Julia的生日/订婚宴会上）。

起初我还以为Charles在周旋。

就像Sebastian父亲的情妇叮嘱他的，必须小心处理他和Sebastian之间的友谊，因为Sebastian很难回头了，但是Charles呢？

他的后知后觉，或者是他的隐秘欲望，使他始终面临一个绝境之中的疑问：你难道不在是利用Sebastian的感情吗？

利用Sebastian以接近Julia？

而你接近Julia又何尝不是在企图布赖兹赫德庄园（如影片中Rex所说的）？

也就是说，在影片中，因为Charles的“无知”，使得我们很难判断Charles的真诚，很难明确他的一个交付给爱的真诚位置。

我想，在Charles和Rex“交易”之时，躺在门首的Julia大约是深深体会了这样绝境的。

以至在后来，Julia不禁反问Charles，难道我就值你的两幅画吗？

我为什么要相信你？

这难道仅仅是一个女人的矫情之语吗？

恐怕不是。

对于Julia这个人物的塑造上，导演Julian Jarrold似乎再一次使用了他在2007年拍摄《成为简·奥斯丁》时用在奥斯丁身上的手法，就是在逃离和返家之间的折回。

当然了，这是一个很大的问题，就像Julia的母亲和Charles之间的谈话，一个无神论者活着到底有什么意义。

起码从Charles和Julia身上，我们也可以看出，他们彼此所面临的绝境是不一样的。

当Julia在将死的父亲床边祈祷之时，她在祈求主的宽恕，影片很直接的暴露了她的心语，她一边祈祷一边抽泣着说：“求你，主，求你。

如果你在，请宽恕他。

”接着话锋一转，她祈祷说：“宽恕我，哦主啊，宽恕我，让他划个十字吧。

”对于Julia来说，布赖兹赫德庄园突然之间不是需要逃离的，而是需要去直面的罪、去直面的宽恕。

老父亲在将死之时，领受自己的罪孽，在牧师的颂祷中，得到宽恕。

这不是单单他一人的宽恕，也是对Julia本人的宽恕。

（在刚到威尼斯那天，Julia曾和父亲拌嘴，说她父亲才是不要家庭不要家人的人，而不是她母亲；其实暗地里表示了Julia对父亲的怨恨，如此怨恨对于天主教而言，是一种罪孽。

）在天主对父亲以及对自己的双重宽恕之仪式中，Julia告别了她的父亲，也告别了她自己。

连带着她的绝境也一起告别。

Julia的绝境，从抱怨、怨恨（这些都促使她决定要逃离布赖兹赫德庄园）之中解脱出来，重新交付出来的，不是别的，正是信仰。

再接着说Charles的绝境。

当他和Julia站在那幅巨大的圣母像前，镜头仿佛给了Charles前面一段悬崖、一段深的空。

他不知道能从这空的里面获取什么，他只是知道他已经失去了Julia，不是因为阴谋、不是因为经济、也不是因为爱情，而是信仰。

当Julia对他说，我不能拒绝主的宽恕，问Charles能不能理解？

Charles说：“我不想让你好过，我希望你的心，伤透。

”接着他又说：“但是我真的能理解。

我不得不放你走。

”于是，Julia就真的走了。

还在Julia为父亲祈祷之时，Charles就已经觉察了这一点，他表情战栗，却又无可奈何。

因为信仰要拿走的，正是他无法给出的。

假如说之前的时候，在Sebastian和Julia之间，Charles还是处在后知后觉中承受着绝境般悬疑的话，那么在与Julia的最终告别之中，Charles则完全处在了绝境之外。

像是在一个瞬间，他之前忧伤、同情、感怀、爱、友谊的从来之地，一个“无知无觉”的绝境，被突然攫走，替换为一个有知有觉的绝境，那么试问，他还能如何面对呢？

也许对于Charles来说，战争充当了一个多面手。

一方面战争召唤了原始的、古老的摧毁力量，将那些信誓旦旦的、规规矩矩的天主教破坏以及摧毁，哪怕只是表面看起来那样；另一方面，战争推迟了那个最终到来的绝境对他的质问，或者说，战争填补了绝境的空口袋。

但是无论如何，Charles已然无法释怀，这或许也是他一开始就有的心理准备。

也就是说，他不去恳求宽恕，而是把“Gulit”交给时间。

所以在开头，他才说，“Guilt”如同他逝去的信念一样纯粹。

这份纯粹也只有时间能够保藏。

对于导演来说，何尝不也是如此呢？

时过境迁，唯有时间充当了重新开启它们的通道。

好吧，俺会说，俺最初之所以选看这部电影的原因是它有个非常古典文艺的名字，但最终支持俺看完这部电影的动力却是，真的真的非常想看里面那对爱得难舍难分的狗男女最后劳燕分飞成为陌路，哈，果然如愿了。

该片改编自著名作家Evelyn Waugh（伊夫林·沃）的同名小说Brideshead Revisited，但翻译成《故园风雨后》比直译的《旧地重游》有意境多了，姐就是被这译名迷惑了。

故事以无宗教的主人公查尔斯的视角展开，描写了伦敦近郊布赖兹赫德庄园里一个天主教贵族家庭的生活和命运。

当然主人公并不仅是袖手旁观，而是充分参与到其中，和这个家族结下剪不断理还乱的不解之源。

他不但勾搭了哥哥，转头又爱上了妹妹，并在各自结婚后又和妹妹旧情复燃，双双出轨，但最终分手，最后二战时男主人公又旧地重游，以军官的身份回到这个充满魔咒（祷告）的布赖兹赫德庄园。

当然小说可比姐概括的含蓄和优美多了，电影和小说内容差不多，只是侧重点不同，小说是自传，包括主人公自己的家庭婚姻等，比较全面地描绘了当时的社会现状，揭示了宗教对信徒家庭和成员的影响，更讽刺了宗教婚姻。

电影则精简了很多，删掉了大部分自传内容，家庭矛盾部分又欲言还止，只着重表现了宗教对自己爱情的影响，视觉和思想一下子狭隘了很多，甚至省去了很多关键性的交代，让情节的转合莫名其妙，这也是姐看这部电影满满心塞感的原因。

比如庄园的次子塞巴斯蒂安，他和主人公查尔斯是大学同学，也是他把查尔斯引入到了自己的家族生活，姐之前写过，和塞巴斯蒂安这个名字沾边基本都是同性恋没跑，很明显作者的寓意也在于此，所以小说中，这位酗酒成性的公子哥痛苦的根源在于天主教对同性恋者的不认可，是作为教徒的神性和人性本能的撕裂，但电影中表现的却是主人公和这位娘炮公子哥大搞暧昧，让对方迷恋自己到无法自拔，以至于避走他乡。。。

比如庄园的长女朱莉娅，这位个性独特作风泼辣的姑娘，她和查尔斯两情相悦，但是却没有勇气选择自己的婚姻，她遵从自己母亲的意愿嫁给了一个贪图其嫁妆的伪天主教徒，不幸的婚姻使双方相看两厌，自己更丧失了生育的能力。

然后再遇到被老婆戴了绿帽的查尔斯便双双决定鼓起勇气离婚追求幸福，虽然最后因为父亲的去世等种种原因没有离成，但也是对天主教徒不予离婚等教条的反抗吧。。。

但电影中呢，不但对于两人的婚姻状况完全没有交代，还搞出一幕肉浪翻滚的情欲戏，看上去就好像一对背着自己伴侣偷情奸夫淫妇，奸夫甚至还跑到人家老公面前要求人家把妻子让给自己，OPZ，三观已毁。。。

还有该片的主角查尔斯，更是匪夷所思，小说中的查尔斯是个颇富有艺术人文精神的人，他介入到这个执信天主教的家庭，纠缠在这些饱受宗教困扰的人们中间，看他们在宗教的束缚中挣扎，互相伤害，想帮助他们，却心有余而力不足，更迷失了自己的心。

而电影中呢，他则成了个野心家，他爱朱莉娅吗？

不，他爱的只是布赖兹赫德庄园，是自己的自尊心。

在他第一次进入庄园见到那些雕像和绘画的时候就为之惊叹，作为一个未来画家的狂热，并对塞巴斯蒂安因避见家人而匆匆赶他走感到失落，而以后每次能来庄园的机会他都不会错过，包括朱莉娅的订婚礼。

他和朱莉娅重遇之后，为了对方的信仰，如果他真爱朱莉娅的话，本来可以像朱莉娅父亲一样折衷，带着爱人去异乡生活，但是他却执意回到庄园，执意回到这个充满朱莉娅天主教母亲阴影的地方，执意要求朱莉娅的合法丈夫转让自己的妻子，以两幅画的价格，所以朱莉娅直言不讳地揭穿他，“你为了得到我，也是为了得到这房子”他要得到这房子，为了第一次到这里做客时朱莉娅母亲对他的讥讽，一个妄图成为画家的穷小子。

爱人不值得信任，所以朱莉娅最终放弃了查尔斯选择回归天主的怀抱，仁慈的天主会宽恕所有有罪的人，只要你虔诚地告解。。。

这真是喜闻乐见的结局，姐等着就是这一刻！

因为姐从一开始就对这个扮猪吃老虎，摇摆不定的野心家表示厌恶。

更不掸以最坏的恶意猜测他之所以放弃塞巴斯蒂安选择朱莉娅也是因为虚荣，因为同性恋是没前途的，但假如和朱莉娅结婚的话，便名利地位财产什么都有了。

电影中唯一完整契合小说的，就是故事的叙事方式，和小说一样全片由三个部分外加序幕和尾声组成。

通过主人公的回忆来展开故事，主人公时而是亲历者，时而又是旁观者，所以带给观众的视觉也是时而主观时而客观，这点很奇特。

三个部分分别是学生时期；去摩洛哥寻找塞巴斯蒂安；和朱丽娅重遇。

这不是一部真正的同性恋电影，但它总让人误会它是，所以才让人手痒痒。

很想给P腿男和绿茶婊各几掌大嘴巴子，这和信仰无关而和人品有关。

反而，那个苍白脆弱的，一直抱着小熊的，酗酒酗得随时像会死掉的塞巴斯蒂安才是全片更值得尊重的人，因为他一直忠诚于自己的性向和内心，没有屈服，没有纠缠不清，没有随便娶什么人，宁愿舍弃荣华富贵漂泊他乡，他终于从一个一直需要别人帮助的人成为了一个也能被人所需要的人，在医院帮忙，自食其力，真的了不起。

虽然这个演员在我眼中那种天生的贵气还差了点。

得不到的永远在骚动被偏爱的都有恃无恐信仰不是约束人的东西，道德才是同性恋不是道德问题，婚外恋才是信仰是为了自己和所爱的人道德是出于不伤害别人俺觉得不管你信什么，首先要遵从自己的内心信仰带给我们的最终意义是心的安宁如果一种信仰让你失去了自我和痛苦那便不值得相信不要让自己成为信仰的陪葬电影的最后，已成为军官的查尔斯又回到了布赖兹赫德庄园，这里已成为部队驻扎的新营地，士兵们在清洁扫除，原来的主人早已不见，没人知道这里曾发生过的故事，也没人在乎。

等战争过去，就连营地也会消失不见。。

整个庄园已面目全非，只有小教堂还一如往昔，圣母抱着圣子静立在堂前，等待着罪人们的告解。。

你看空虚的空虚，一切都是空虚我见日光之下所作的一切事，都是虚空，都是捕风所有的人和事都是短暂的，只有空虚是永恒的一切的爱恋，挣扎，苦痛，都会被时间抚平，抹去，了无痕迹。

所以如果一切都是空虚，那让自己快乐地活吧，在不伤害别人的前提下

阅读时长≈3min。

没什么逻辑，说说为什么我讨厌这部电影。

把一部长篇小说浓缩成2个小时的电影，倒叙无疑是一个很好的选择，但C和J上来就make love，毫无情感铺垫未免太单薄无力；游玩威尼斯的时候，聒噪浮夸还有点“超现实主义”的场面，有悖于无论从原著还是电视剧来看都想要营造出的奢华但不失细腻、古朴、悠长的质感，反倒开始真正“无拘无束”的时候，气氛又开始变得阴森怪异起来（比如第一次S的好友聚餐）。

还有S和C的友情，怎么就被改编成了同性爱？

电影完全把故事的重心放在爱情上，S和C的接吻、S在婚礼上的摔门而去、威尼斯墙洞里S目睹C和J的调情……完全变成了一个互相吃醋的三角恋故事。

看电影版会让很多人误认为《故园风雨后》的侧重点是S和C之间的爱情，或者什么三角恋，关注点都在“男男之爱”。

但其实S和C的关系并不是爱情，电影对二人关系的曲解很令人匪夷所思。

虽然说“一千个人心中有一千个哈姆雷特”，但这样的改编只让人觉得很不尊重原著。

《故园风雨后》，是探讨宗教信仰对人精神影响的两面性、是抒发作者由时代变迁而产生的感慨、也有作者当时对纸醉金迷生活的憧憬和无奈……爱情只是作为铺垫，推动故事情节发展，展示宗教和阶级对人的影响与束缚。

美好的事物是在为后面翻天覆地的改变打基础，让观众更深刻地体会结局的那种无力感。

电影把洒脱消遣的一面展开，但是太过了，最后又收不住，就使转折变得太突然、太生硬。

再看人物塑造，电影把S塑造成了纤弱妩媚的同性恋。

电视剧中的S完美地体现出了那种忧郁单纯的贵族气质，而电影中的S始终就只是一种病怏怏的状态。

我一直很认可本·卫肖的演技，但面对这个角色却始终让人感受不到任何神韵，电影对人物的塑造无疑是失败的。

S的母亲是一个重要角色。

她被宗教束缚着，但宗教也是她最重要的精神依托。

S的母亲是少数没有对这种束缚产生抵抗的人，但电影只展现出她极端的控制欲，让她看着像一个精神病，害S变得颓废，然后就病死了。

其实S的母亲是不想像失去丈夫那样失去自己的孩子，表面看起来是她控制了自己的孩子，其实深层的是展现了宗教对人精神的控制。

S和他母亲不一样，不管是精神层面还是物质层面，他都一直在抵抗，但最终也逃不过命运。

一个生来就被宗教控制的人，宗教无时无刻不潜移默化地影响着他的人生，其实他虽厌倦但也离不开自己的“信仰”，最终只能可悲地被宗教束缚一生。

所谓的“自由”，也都只是片刻逃避，都只是酒精制造出的幻象。

关于C就不想细说了，他是一个很复杂的人，但在电影里的C就是一个容易被爱情冲昏头脑的“钢铁直男”。

另外感觉演J的演员完全无法驾驭女主的角色。

《故园风雨后》是悲剧，但它想探讨的是关于宗教信仰和阶级影响人命运的悲剧而非一幕幕狗血的爱情悲剧，电影的侧重点实在令我匪夷所思。

即使非常不满，但我打一星并不是因为它翻拍得有异于自己眼中的《故园风雨后》，而是因为不能忍受电影改编对经典的自作高明的践踏和亵渎……

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。

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。

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.

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?