完美感觉

    高二的时候看过一部台湾片子叫做《第36个故事》，我仍然记得其中的一个片段，是文艺电影中常有的情节：里面的女二号林辰唏骑着自行车穿过街道，很澄澈的阳光扫过她的碎发，又透过浓绿的叶片把大片的树影投射下来，背景乐是雷光夏的同名配曲，声音的质感很厚却又让整个画面轻盈无比。后来这首歌被存到p4里，随机播放时偶尔会放到，前奏在耳边响起时，脑海中也会随之铺陈出温暖明亮的画面：阳光、树影还有街道上骑行着的单车。当声音尝起来是彩色的。
    
   我听见声音，我看到色彩，我嗅着气味，我尝出味道，于是我触摸到了这个由感官感知出的庞大世界，我的世界。

   所以电影这样开始了：“这个星球上有黑暗，光明，男人和女人，有食物和餐馆，疾病，工作，和交通，有我们习以为常的生活，和我们所谓的世界。”末日的题材没错，却讲述得沉静，舒缓配乐下铺展开的情节让人联想起村上一本小说的书名《世界尽头与冷酷仙境》。一切来的很平静，人们在一阵突然袭来的悲伤后首先失去了嗅觉，紧接着便是味觉、听觉，最后是视觉。人们在恐慌中迎来了每一次失去，又无可奈何地继续原本的生活。life still goes on.

   浓酽的悲伤混合着恐惧笼罩在城市上方，可男女主角却在这样的情况下相遇了。先后失去嗅觉后，他们见证了彼此末日的开始。来势凶猛的“病情”变成了他们爱情最好的催化剂，或许也只有彼此相伴时的拥抱与亲吻才能勉强与心底的绝望相抗衡。影片的最后，视觉最终离去，大幕降下的黑暗里，他们却也触摸到了对方。没有救世主，没有末日英雄，结局顺理成章的同时也无比的残忍。但仔细想想，这样的设定还是善待我们的，至少接连失去了嗅觉、味觉、听觉和视觉以后，影片里的人们还能够感受到彼此的爱意。早已破落不堪摇摇欲坠的感官世界依凭着最最虚无缥缈的爱竟还是模糊的存在着。前方已经是黑暗了，可我还能触摸到你手的温度。不足以照亮前路，却足够填补起我心底的空洞。

   我们在世界的尽头，我们也在冷酷的仙境。我爱你，所以你是我的黑暗之光。

附《第36个故事》歌词

夏天的雨水飘落宁静公园
深夜的微风拂过吹干了树
在街角的咖啡店相遇的一刻
故事从头我对你依然心动
温暖的太阳照着冬天的花
你微微笑的让我抹去眼泪
看这座城市漫漫被时光移动
若伸出手还是渴望被你把握
给我我想要的生活
面对最坦白的眼眸
前方是一篇晴朗星空
答案紧紧拥抱我

更符合故事情节地说，爱与对彼此地依赖，在其他感觉逐次消逝地过程中，愈来愈浓，最后成为生命延续下去唯一依赖地感觉。

本来我从一开始就想着，想要fuck的感觉会不会最后也没啦？还好，一直都在，电影结束的时候也没提。。。

刚刚发布影评出现错误，于是浏览了一些之前的影评，发现很多观后感都很接近，就不多说了，不过有一句话又一次触动了我，这里稍加改动：
    生命是一场缓慢的死亡，希望能与最初的你同归于尽。

一场毁灭性的疾病席卷了世界，它传染的特征是，因为大脑组织对于病毒的初阶反应，病毒首先击溃人的感情底线，让人突然感情崩溃，是为感染的前兆，悲伤、绝望被无限放大，人们通常恸哭失常。紧接着，五官官能逐步丧失：嗅觉，味觉，听觉，最后则是最重要的视觉。

当这末世即将到来之前，Ewan McGregor饰演的Michael，这位厨师，遇到了他一眼即认定的真爱，Eva Green饰演的医生Susan，两人在地球毁灭之前匆匆相遇，并且相爱。因为爱情，他们至死不渝，心手相牵。

电影名Perfect Sense中的Sense，和人类的感官Sense同为一词，电影中人的五感逐渐消失，道德法则逐渐失灵，人与人之间的唯一信仰，只剩下感情可以维系，可感情感情，也必须先要有“感”，才能有“情”，当人的感知系统都已经通通消失，人与人之间的爱是否还依旧存在，依旧能成为末世信仰呢？

导演David Mackenzie开创了苏格兰电影的先河，引领出像Danny Boyle之类优秀的导演，他们的作品色彩鲜明，剪辑高速，处处有着独到的睿智。这部电影中，他选用了丹麦作家Kim Fupz Aakeson的作品，故事线索并不复杂，讲述的却是人类在面对世界消亡之前的不同接纳方式，以图展现人之所以为人的那些特质。

可惜题材虽好，导演却也没能拍出新意。电影试图营造的一种逼近世界灭亡的绝望，仅仅通过各地的人群因为病毒侵袭而逐渐癫狂的行为来展现，荒诞之余却少了震撼：我们看到人们暴怒、悲恸，人们争抢食物，不知所措，可真正的绝望不在于情绪的宣泄，而在于信仰的放弃，即便导演在非洲、亚洲和其他地区都有拍摄片段，却没能让人感觉灾难的宏大、人类的无望。相对比较同是英国电影的《惊变28天》，同样是灾难降临，电影一开场的万人空巷，空城死地的几个镜头，就把那种苍凉和绝望展现无余。该片唯一的新奇之处仅仅在于听觉丧失的那一段：电影也选择了静音处理，给观众以失聪的代入感，但这不过是依照剧本而来的设定，也不算手段高明。

电影着墨甚多的Ewan和Eva的爱情，本该是我们在这绝境之中看到的唯一曙光，可惜两人的感情萌芽始于对彼此的肉体的感觉，也仅仅在世界灭亡前通过性爱维系，肉体的成分多，爱情的成分少。当然，最后他们还是在一切消失殆尽之前确定了对彼此的爱，感情终于在一切丧失之前让他们找到彼此。

Ewan和Eva的表演都不错，各自的几场情绪失控都很出色，发挥了应有的水平。当他们在床上紧紧相拥，势要fuck till the end of the world的时刻；当他们在浴缸里欢乐地戏水，喂彼此吃下洗浴用品的时刻；当他们在一切谢幕之前找到彼此，紧紧相拥的时刻，我们都相信爱的力量，爱终会在黑暗过后点亮我们的心房。

不管前路如何孤绝，这一刻，让我们紧拥这感觉。

嗅觉功能消失殆尽，气味不再触动记忆，成千上万过往的片段逐渐消失。烟雾的妖娆可以让我回想起你指尖的烟草味；香水瓶的分类会提醒我你喷洒了不同香水；咖啡的苦涩会代替它的独特香醇让我看到洋溢在你脸庞的表情。
失去味觉，终于可以让烈酒和白开水喝起来一种味道，我或许能灌入更多液体，更快自己变成在你面前酒醉的白痴；无法区分熟肉和生鱼片的口感会不会有理由跑遍全城的餐馆。
即便再也听不到这个世界的声音，还是能根据你的表情猜测你要吐露的文字；虽然无法再听到你的歌声却会把那些曲调保存在记忆的最深处；听不到雨点敲击玻璃的声音你一定会睡得更安心；当世上所有电影都成了默片，你会不会不再惊吓。
当黑暗来临我或许也不会惧怕，你总是在我的记忆里和梦里才会出现，我已习惯用这种方式来想念；手心的温度会告诉我你在身边；站在你前面时拂面的轻风会见证这一刻。
所有感官都可以失去，可回忆丢不掉甩不开，它们让你在我的海马回里分外深刻。这场疾病来得毫无征兆，而我会记得与你相关的所有。

There is darkness and there is light.
There are men and women.
There’s food.
There are restaurants.
Disease.
There’s work.
Traffic.
The days as we know them.
The world as we imagine the world.

-Well, you’ve been sick.
-Not sick, just unhappy.
-Well, it’s the same thing.

One day, son, you’ll be in love.
And you’ll be miserable.
That’s your karma.
Truly in love and miserable.

Overwhelmed with grief.
People are hit with all that they’ve lost.
Lovers they never had.
All the departed friend.
They think of all the people they’ve hurt.
First, overwhelmed with grief.
And then no sense of smell.
That’s the disease.

Life goes on.
The food becomes spicier, saltier, more sweet, more sour.
You get used to it.
The greater loss are all the memories that are no longer triggered.
Smell and memory were connected in the brain.
Cinnamon might have remained you of your grandmother’s apron.
The scent of cut hay could evoke a childhood fear of cows.
Diesel oil might bring back memories of your first ferry crossing.
Without smell, an ocean of past images disappears.

-What shall we do now?
-Well, now you could invite me back to your place.
-Don’t know if I will.
-Well, you…you can just start walking home, and I’ll follow you.

I can’t die alone.
That’s how it’ll end.
Without anybody loving me.

It betrays itself.
Your body, it takes away the color of your skin.
And betrays your spirit.
Pissing and bleeding and fucking puss is coming out of your ear.
I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it!
At the end, you’re all alone.
You die on your own and it gets all dark.
All your body, it turns to fucking soup.

First the terror.
And then a moment of hunger.

It’s still out there.
The world.

Slowly things return to normal and life goes on.
People do what they did before as best they can.
Within a few weeks, taste becomes a distant memory.
And different sensations take its place.
In restaurants, it’s all about offering another person dinner, letting yourself be waited on, listening to the trickle of wine and the clink of glassed.

Not only has the food received special attention, but also the temperature of the food and its consistency.
And we tried it all, from the freezing cold to the scorching hot.
It was dry, it was moist, it was crisp, it was spongy, it was crunchy and it was all at the highest level, up to and including the dessert- a light pudding with caramelized nuts and a bright orange sorbet, and a dark blue coulis on blackberries and blackcurrant.
Chew on that.
Life goes on.

My ovaries are crippled.
My eggs are no good.
Because of not eating.
I pretend that I’m not that into them, that I have an interesting job.

You could smell there was something wrong inside her, like something damp, something from a basement.
I make myself go and visit her grave.
I go there to feel guilty, you know?
I thought I would feel guilty for the rest of my life but, actually it’s starting to fade.

-You’re an arsehole.
-I am.
-It works. It works. You’re making me yours.
-I’m an arsehole.
-So am I.
-A couple of arseholes.
-Mr and Mrs arsehole.

“I think it’s OK to panic now.”
And that’s basically what the world does.
Rage.
Anger.
Hatred.
And then the loss of another sense.
All the unaffected can do is wait.

There are two movements now.
There are the people who run through the streets, grabbing all they can.
People who don’t believe in anything but the end of the world.
Then there’s the other movement- farmers going out to milk their cows, soldiers reporting for duty.
Those who believe that life will go on somehow, or just don’t know what else to do.
People prepare for the worst, but hope for the best.
They concentrate on the things that are important to them.
All the things beyond fat and flour.

The cold must have hit them like a blow from a club.
That’s how the darkness descends upon the world.
But first the shining moments.
A shared flinching of the brain’s temporal lobe.
A profound appreciation of what it means to be alive.
But most of all, a shared urge to reach out to one another.
To offer warmth, understanding, acceptance, forgiveness, love.
It’s dark now, but they feel each other’s breath, and they know all they need to know.
They kiss, and they feel each other’s tears on their cheeks.
And if there had been anybody left to see them, then they would look like normal lovers caressing each other’s faces, bodies close together, eyes closed, oblivious to the world around them.
Because that is how life goes on.
Like that.