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更新时间：2024-01-08 15:17
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平民小伙子查尔斯·莱德（马修·古迪 Matthew Goode 饰）怀着一腔梦想进入牛津大学，不久便结识了引人注目的塞巴斯蒂安·弗莱特（本·卫肖 Ben Whishaw 饰），并和他成为好友。塞巴斯蒂安英俊得惊人，又出身豪门，生性满怀敏感和忧愁，他带着查尔斯进入自家豪宅——布赖兹赫德庄园，介绍他认识自己的家人，查尔斯很快迷恋上其姐茱丽叶（海莉·阿特维尔 Hayley Atwell 饰），但茱丽叶迫于母亲压力和天主教徒雷克斯（Jonathan Cake 饰）订婚，令查尔斯恋情无果，而塞巴斯蒂安对查尔斯的感情也只能止于暧昧。十年光阴过去，查尔斯已经是知名画家，在渡轮上偶遇茱丽叶，试图重续旧情再度失败，又得知塞巴斯蒂安已经远走国外。再度回到布赖兹赫德庄园，查尔斯已经是一名军官，大宅已经在战争中彻底破败……
长篇影评
1 ) 关于contra mundum——影版的错放和剧版的深情
一星给配乐画面，一星给小本的颜。
其实电影版里的一个细节是我无论如何不能忍的——就是那句重要的、在原著中反复出现、甚至在标题中都出现了两次的“Sebastian contra mundum ”在电影里被错放了位置，甚至被大大亵渎了。
在David Cliffe 给BR原著写的注解里，对这句拉丁语是这么解释的，“ With Sebastian, against the world’ (Latin); an expression of profound loyalty ”，而这种“profound loyalty ”在之前许多波折之后简直让我忍不住眼泪。
BR唯一的中译版里，这句话被译成“不合世俗的塞巴斯蒂安”，我看过的另一种翻译是“塞巴斯蒂安挑战世界”，但不论哪一种，都漏掉了那个“with”，更淡去了那种让人痛心的“profound loyalty "。而这句话其实是Charles 夹在Sebastian 和他家庭之间以来，几经Lady Marchmain拉拢，深思熟虑之后的一句对Seb绝对忠诚的承诺——“和你一起，对抗世界”。
在Charles对Seb讲的那许多隐秘晦涩而无声的情话里，这句无疑是分量极重又掷地有声的，而不论是在原著里，或是在TV剧中，Charles从未违背过这句承诺，甚至在我看来，他后来同Julia在一起，也是对这个承诺的一种扭曲的维系。TV剧里Charles说出这句承诺后，轻蔑地将Lady Marchmain赠给他的小册子往桌上一扔，而一旁的Seb则露出了一种“不愧是我看上的人”的近乎得意与骄傲的表情，然后他就要酒喝，Charles也不拦。而电影却把这句如此重要的表白放在了Charles和Seb第一次造访白庄归来的途中，甚至让Seb自己说出这句话，前面还接着一句“you have me”，而Charles之后跟着重复了一遍“contra mundum”，用的是一种戏谑调笑的语气，加之后来他对Seb的辜负，简直让这句忠心耿耿的情话完全变成了凉薄的笑话。如果不是为了迎合大众口味拍什么三角恋搞噱头，那只能说影片的制作方完全误读了原著最根深蒂固的情深与无奈。
ps：我非常喜欢小本，但喜欢不代表无脑吹，也许在这一版被改得面目全非的电影里，小本演一个受尽辜负的少爷是合适的，但却并非是一个盛极而衰的少爷，而是一个落魄已久、无法骄傲、只剩敏感易碎的少爷——像那个小了一号的Aloysius、仅仅一抔的草莓和区区一束用来道歉的水仙。
忍不住去想如果AA的Seb出现在电影里，那他大概带着自己那种无顾绘画与教堂，而寻找花香与蝴蝶的半梦半醒的眼神，早在他们第一次午餐会时——当时Charles在长桌另一头大谈绘画较之相片更有情——Seb早就把他囫囵和教堂之流归为一类，弃之不顾了，哪还有给他辜负自己的机会。
总之说对我而言，小本“演过”Seb，而AA“就是”Seb。
2 ) 重临_追忆
今天晚饭后忽发奇想，把从朋友处借来的Brideshead Revisited放到电脑里。
从Ben Whishaw甫一出场，牛津那些抽离世界的尖塔映入眼帘，我就不由自主地想起英国种种，欧洲种种——老套得我都觉得不好意思了。
这是英国话剧/电影界的一群多么令人神往的人啊。Emma Thompson自不必说，给苍白的电影注入一种魔法的生命。Jonathan Cake当年在南岸的The Globe演那位大喊着：“捏塑我的并不是比常人更硬的陶土”的Coriolanus的时候，我站在下面看到发怔。Ed Stoppard虽然饰演一个被宗教压到窒息的长兄Bridie，但乔装打扮依然挡不住Hamlet氏的青春挺拔。Whishaw的头发剃光后的样子，让人想起Aidan Mathews写下的“handsome but hurt”。那英国人群体性的郁郁揖让，徘徊在欲言又止的边沿。
这不是一部多么出彩的电影，真的。电影和书比起来，永远都是直观而枯燥的，拨开了那一层想象的雾霭之后，错综的语词，微妙的掩映，转折、虚晃和踌躇……一旦清晰起来也就失去了他们本身的诱惑力。
可是这里面所有的标记都让我不能自已。威尼斯的景象一旦映入眼帘，我就大喊起来：Canaletto，曾经居住过的南伦敦，附近就是Dulwich Picture Gallery，离开之前还有一个他的展览。本来这些都只是过眼烟云，也不曾有多深的印象，不料一个小小的开关，就全部打开了。
曾经很矫情地把英语文学的文本虔诚地带到一些匪夷所思的地方展读。比如在北海边读Woolf的The Waves，在Dublin两年，边读Joyce边踩点，把Dublin弄得比较熟悉了，又匆匆地离开。在St Pauls的大穹顶下听着祷文还有organ voluntary和各色人等谱曲的英文拉丁文Magnificat，读了不知多少章节的KJV和Donne——我所有的欧陆朋友都对St Pauls不屑，因为他们的家乡大教堂不知道气象要宏伟多少倍，但对一个沉浸在盎格鲁撒克逊语言的小孩来说，语言的经纬编织出的母体永远比具象要更加受用。
罗马公教是折磨了我这许多年的研究课题。看到Flyte一家在宗教中生死的一幕幕，觉得真是再平常不过了。多年的挚友MA君是Durham郡出生的公教徒。他说在教堂里，他的自动导航就打开了，点圣水，屈膝礼，祷文都熟悉得成为第二本能。在爱尔兰更是如此，Ennis小镇的教堂满到站都站不下，那真是攫住人整个生命的宗教：华美的典仪和精致的歌咏直接诉诸人的感官，社群生活的全然融合又把每一个人牢牢地拉在这张网里。Donne明里是放下了，其实灵魂一辈子依旧没有放下那种对罪愆和爱欲的纠结。MA也说，走进Durham大教堂，他的心就飞起来，他分明感到这曾经是一间公教教堂，哪怕近四百年的圣公会洗濯。
妙就妙在，这一切又牵涉着英国的衰落、家族的更替。ménage à trois的永恒主题只是点衬一个更宏大的问题：一个罗马公教的conscience对这一切的考问。在一个自称为“神圣普世”，其首领自称Vicar of Christ的森严宗教秩序中，个体的卑微，或如Lady Flyte那样病态地寄希望于彼岸，或如Sebastian纵情欢娱，然后纵情忏悔，或如Julia那般在明知自己的信仰已然被玩弄，自己沦为一种现实与理念的交易品，依旧要自戕，或如Lord Flyte那不免令人想到Wilde的临死悔改。Waugh本人是对这一切都抱有模棱两可的复杂心态的高超作家，看客只能和他笔下的人物一样纠结。仿佛镶嵌着珠宝的乌龟的帝国不免夕阳西下：随着贵族的式微，中产阶级以及和下层阶级的全面接收(Hooper那开豁的口音和乐观的态度可资证）已经开始。Waugh不过希望接收者如Ryder那样，还企图保有摇曳的一枝蜡烛，不要恣意吹灭它……
从Ben Whishaw甫一出场，牛津那些抽离世界的尖塔映入眼帘，我就不由自主地想起英国种种，欧洲种种——老套得我都觉得不好意思了。
这是英国话剧/电影界的一群多么令人神往的人啊。Emma Thompson自不必说，给苍白的电影注入一种魔法的生命。Jonathan Cake当年在南岸的The Globe演那位大喊着：“捏塑我的并不是比常人更硬的陶土”的Coriolanus的时候，我站在下面看到发怔。Ed Stoppard虽然饰演一个被宗教压到窒息的长兄Bridie，但乔装打扮依然挡不住Hamlet氏的青春挺拔。Whishaw的头发剃光后的样子，让人想起Aidan Mathews写下的“handsome but hurt”。那英国人群体性的郁郁揖让，徘徊在欲言又止的边沿。
这不是一部多么出彩的电影，真的。电影和书比起来，永远都是直观而枯燥的，拨开了那一层想象的雾霭之后，错综的语词，微妙的掩映，转折、虚晃和踌躇……一旦清晰起来也就失去了他们本身的诱惑力。
可是这里面所有的标记都让我不能自已。威尼斯的景象一旦映入眼帘，我就大喊起来：Canaletto，曾经居住过的南伦敦，附近就是Dulwich Picture Gallery，离开之前还有一个他的展览。本来这些都只是过眼烟云，也不曾有多深的印象，不料一个小小的开关，就全部打开了。
曾经很矫情地把英语文学的文本虔诚地带到一些匪夷所思的地方展读。比如在北海边读Woolf的The Waves，在Dublin两年，边读Joyce边踩点，把Dublin弄得比较熟悉了，又匆匆地离开。在St Pauls的大穹顶下听着祷文还有organ voluntary和各色人等谱曲的英文拉丁文Magnificat，读了不知多少章节的KJV和Donne——我所有的欧陆朋友都对St Pauls不屑，因为他们的家乡大教堂不知道气象要宏伟多少倍，但对一个沉浸在盎格鲁撒克逊语言的小孩来说，语言的经纬编织出的母体永远比具象要更加受用。
罗马公教是折磨了我这许多年的研究课题。看到Flyte一家在宗教中生死的一幕幕，觉得真是再平常不过了。多年的挚友MA君是Durham郡出生的公教徒。他说在教堂里，他的自动导航就打开了，点圣水，屈膝礼，祷文都熟悉得成为第二本能。在爱尔兰更是如此，Ennis小镇的教堂满到站都站不下，那真是攫住人整个生命的宗教：华美的典仪和精致的歌咏直接诉诸人的感官，社群生活的全然融合又把每一个人牢牢地拉在这张网里。Donne明里是放下了，其实灵魂一辈子依旧没有放下那种对罪愆和爱欲的纠结。MA也说，走进Durham大教堂，他的心就飞起来，他分明感到这曾经是一间公教教堂，哪怕近四百年的圣公会洗濯。
妙就妙在，这一切又牵涉着英国的衰落、家族的更替。ménage à trois的永恒主题只是点衬一个更宏大的问题：一个罗马公教的conscience对这一切的考问。在一个自称为“神圣普世”，其首领自称Vicar of Christ的森严宗教秩序中，个体的卑微，或如Lady Flyte那样病态地寄希望于彼岸，或如Sebastian纵情欢娱，然后纵情忏悔，或如Julia那般在明知自己的信仰已然被玩弄，自己沦为一种现实与理念的交易品，依旧要自戕，或如Lord Flyte那不免令人想到Wilde的临死悔改。Waugh本人是对这一切都抱有模棱两可的复杂心态的高超作家，看客只能和他笔下的人物一样纠结。仿佛镶嵌着珠宝的乌龟的帝国不免夕阳西下：随着贵族的式微，中产阶级以及和下层阶级的全面接收(Hooper那开豁的口音和乐观的态度可资证）已经开始。Waugh不过希望接收者如Ryder那样，还企图保有摇曳的一枝蜡烛，不要恣意吹灭它……
3 ) 人生的其中两面
Technically,这不是影评。
我之所以给五星，是给片中前后一致的英伦古典情怀和毫不拖沓的剪辑。后者对我尤其重要，戈达尔的剪辑虽然名声在外，我还是不断快进，因为我不enjoy看着一些漂亮的脑残女和行为前后互相颠覆的法国男胡搞瞎搞。我很惊讶看Brideshead Revisited时我没有哪怕一次快进。这跟选角有关。Sebastian先颠倒了性别再颠倒了众生，Matthew Goode在我心中的地位，让我不能像其他观影者一样察觉到他的野心。我的认识还停留在，他在此片中，是一个被美而吸引，先后企图拯救兄妹俩的正常人。
拒绝Sebastian,是出自性取向的本能。
娶妻，是对命运给予的东西淡然接受。
与Julia重拾旧欢，是对昔日没有得到的感情的疯狂反扑。
Let go Julia, 是意识到一己之力在宗教带来的集体无意识面前的渺小。人，大概只能自救，当你突然伟岸了浪漫了或者超人情结迸发了想带一个女子逃离她过去的残缺人生时，如果她接受了，这是童话；她不接受，这就是部现实作品。世界上大多数人，尤其是女人，都是没有勇气跟过去一刀两断的，宁可作茧自缚。
Brideshead是美的，所以有爱美之心的Charles对其始终不能忘怀。这不一定就跟了不起的盖茨比里一样的social climber抱有同样的居心。至少影片中的细节不能严密地证明这一点。而生物都是趋利避害的，所以human being Charles就有了他种种的选择和不选择。
再说Julia的选角，不好意思，套用一句法国人形容泰坦尼克女主的经典评价，“简直丑得不能看。”，长着一张跟茱莉亚比诺什一样三纲五常的脸蛋，还有很masculine的眉毛。我个人偏好女演员有着柔美的轮廓，可以中性，但一定不能突兀。尤其不能长得像我老家的海边随手捡一块岩石削几个角就成了张脸，或者跟我小时候拿橡皮泥捏出来的泥人一样拉沓着眼角。
再评价一个情节, Charles用两幅画交换了Julia的自由。很多人觉得这样improper, 怎么能这样交易呢？Julia变成了商品多掉价啊？我当时看了这些观影者的感触很是惊讶，因为我完全就不是这一思路。我的思路如下：
首先，男主找Julia丈夫谈判时抱着就是 “Leave it to me, I will handle it.”的态度。而我认为男人能讲出的最浪漫的话除了Don't worry, leave it to me就是It’s over, I will take you away.而Charles两个都表达了，所以我不太喜欢女人这时还当怨妇。
再者，谈判，注意，Charles不是在宣布一个事实，是在讨要一个离婚协议。一旦screw up这个机会成本有多大一定要清楚。当Rex说what can you offer me?时我觉得Rex真是个理性的经济人，顿时为Charles松一口气，能用钱解决的烦恼就不是真正的烦恼。要是Rex没那么直截了当而是跟琼瑶戏里面马景涛一样：啊。。。不要。。Julia…啊。。你怎么能这样对我。。。啊。。我的余生还有什么意义。。那Charles谈判的胜算就很小了。
Charles这时，为了迎合主流观众不太能坦然接受这种trade模式时选择了缄默不语。然后Rex又很贴心地开了价码，两幅画。作为观众我当时都要乐死了，多便宜啊，自产自销，不用扣除中间费用， C只用将自己abundant的两幅画丢出去就是了，换了个女人。但是C还是一娘儿们似的一句话都不敢说，跟国共混战时被抓到对方监狱里进行生死抉择似的点了点他那英俊无比的头。
综上，所以当Julia对此心有戚戚时我真是觉得这女人很不理性。你，以及你那怪石嶙峋的眉眼，以及你被宗教腐坏了的teenie weenie brain, 能够想出一个更好的谈判价格，让你觉得心理上接受吗？
但是这部电影还是太唯美了，以下我还想简述人生还有另外一面。
--------------------------------艺术与生活孰高孰低的分割线--------------------
我朋友A， 她的双胞胎姑姑，大姑姑跟一个俩孩子都20几岁的40+男人去年生了个小baby。小姑姑赌搏欠了高利贷，嫁了个差不多民工的人，还是先怀孕才结婚的，没什么收入，然后生的小女孩脚软，每个月要去医院注射1000+RMB的针水，否则过几个月不一定能够走路。哪怕这样，两个姑姑还是吃着120RMB一斤的虾喝着348/900g的美赞臣进口奶粉；她的表姐，会计师，在上海，剩女一枚，跟一个台湾的有女朋友的男生纠缠不清，后来终于大家谈开了，于是这事就黄了，扯淡了，人家不愿分手。她表姑，N年前在深圳做酒店前台时就是如花美人，当了某商人的情人，后来年纪大了，回归正途了，跟个弄玻璃厂的小生意人结婚了，开了个小卖部，正正经经平平淡淡。她一个好朋友，跟男友谈了6年恋爱，结婚前几个月被一个只认识两星期的异乡女人打败了，于是这个devastating的事件让这一女博士之后更加终日郁郁形单影只。而这女博士的朋友，在校念英语系时跟一个爱写诗的医学系男生相交甚好如胶似漆，毕业结婚后这医学系男生不去工作继续写诗终日写诗，不知养家糊口为何物，女人只好一人养全家，七年后终于离婚远嫁美国。
除去那些琐碎死人的中年人生活，再讲青春期躁动。我和Lucas在被大雪滞留在伦敦的机场时，我说你给我讲故事吧，于是他告诉我某女S，大家共同的南亚朋友，在本科艰难度日时跟了个40多岁的老男人，男人现在要来伦敦看她，而她打算跟一个巴黎男生在一起把这老男人甩了；某女Y，日本人，遇到了学校里一个对她身体很感兴趣的欧洲人X，X特别喜欢和她OOXX， 而Y付出了真心。后来Y把她日本的男友甩了却发现X依旧不想跟他女友分，X只喜欢跟Y做爱，非常喜欢，仅此而已。而Y无论和他做了多少次，都不能令他分手来跟她在一起。某男M，非常喜欢做爱，既喜欢跟他女朋友做也喜欢跟其他各种女生做。他女朋友也不介意。但他除了喜欢跟他女朋友做爱，还喜欢跟她聊天。这就成了她成为正室的充分条件。
我当时听了就傻了，M, S, Y, X都是我认识的人啊，Lucas住学校信息多，可他从前不是八卦的人，直到在伦敦的最后一天，在Costa里。
跟这些糟糕的凌乱的人生故事比，Brideshead已经很天上人间了。
生活本就如此的艰难，我更喜欢给生活做减法，找个简单的人，也不要什么伦敦巴黎，公园着胡同着就过了吧。
我之所以给五星，是给片中前后一致的英伦古典情怀和毫不拖沓的剪辑。后者对我尤其重要，戈达尔的剪辑虽然名声在外，我还是不断快进，因为我不enjoy看着一些漂亮的脑残女和行为前后互相颠覆的法国男胡搞瞎搞。我很惊讶看Brideshead Revisited时我没有哪怕一次快进。这跟选角有关。Sebastian先颠倒了性别再颠倒了众生，Matthew Goode在我心中的地位，让我不能像其他观影者一样察觉到他的野心。我的认识还停留在，他在此片中，是一个被美而吸引，先后企图拯救兄妹俩的正常人。
拒绝Sebastian,是出自性取向的本能。
娶妻，是对命运给予的东西淡然接受。
与Julia重拾旧欢，是对昔日没有得到的感情的疯狂反扑。
Let go Julia, 是意识到一己之力在宗教带来的集体无意识面前的渺小。人，大概只能自救，当你突然伟岸了浪漫了或者超人情结迸发了想带一个女子逃离她过去的残缺人生时，如果她接受了，这是童话；她不接受，这就是部现实作品。世界上大多数人，尤其是女人，都是没有勇气跟过去一刀两断的，宁可作茧自缚。
Brideshead是美的，所以有爱美之心的Charles对其始终不能忘怀。这不一定就跟了不起的盖茨比里一样的social climber抱有同样的居心。至少影片中的细节不能严密地证明这一点。而生物都是趋利避害的，所以human being Charles就有了他种种的选择和不选择。
再说Julia的选角，不好意思，套用一句法国人形容泰坦尼克女主的经典评价，“简直丑得不能看。”，长着一张跟茱莉亚比诺什一样三纲五常的脸蛋，还有很masculine的眉毛。我个人偏好女演员有着柔美的轮廓，可以中性，但一定不能突兀。尤其不能长得像我老家的海边随手捡一块岩石削几个角就成了张脸，或者跟我小时候拿橡皮泥捏出来的泥人一样拉沓着眼角。
再评价一个情节, Charles用两幅画交换了Julia的自由。很多人觉得这样improper, 怎么能这样交易呢？Julia变成了商品多掉价啊？我当时看了这些观影者的感触很是惊讶，因为我完全就不是这一思路。我的思路如下：
首先，男主找Julia丈夫谈判时抱着就是 “Leave it to me, I will handle it.”的态度。而我认为男人能讲出的最浪漫的话除了Don't worry, leave it to me就是It’s over, I will take you away.而Charles两个都表达了，所以我不太喜欢女人这时还当怨妇。
再者，谈判，注意，Charles不是在宣布一个事实，是在讨要一个离婚协议。一旦screw up这个机会成本有多大一定要清楚。当Rex说what can you offer me?时我觉得Rex真是个理性的经济人，顿时为Charles松一口气，能用钱解决的烦恼就不是真正的烦恼。要是Rex没那么直截了当而是跟琼瑶戏里面马景涛一样：啊。。。不要。。Julia…啊。。你怎么能这样对我。。。啊。。我的余生还有什么意义。。那Charles谈判的胜算就很小了。
Charles这时，为了迎合主流观众不太能坦然接受这种trade模式时选择了缄默不语。然后Rex又很贴心地开了价码，两幅画。作为观众我当时都要乐死了，多便宜啊，自产自销，不用扣除中间费用， C只用将自己abundant的两幅画丢出去就是了，换了个女人。但是C还是一娘儿们似的一句话都不敢说，跟国共混战时被抓到对方监狱里进行生死抉择似的点了点他那英俊无比的头。
综上，所以当Julia对此心有戚戚时我真是觉得这女人很不理性。你，以及你那怪石嶙峋的眉眼，以及你被宗教腐坏了的teenie weenie brain, 能够想出一个更好的谈判价格，让你觉得心理上接受吗？
但是这部电影还是太唯美了，以下我还想简述人生还有另外一面。
--------------------------------艺术与生活孰高孰低的分割线--------------------
我朋友A， 她的双胞胎姑姑，大姑姑跟一个俩孩子都20几岁的40+男人去年生了个小baby。小姑姑赌搏欠了高利贷，嫁了个差不多民工的人，还是先怀孕才结婚的，没什么收入，然后生的小女孩脚软，每个月要去医院注射1000+RMB的针水，否则过几个月不一定能够走路。哪怕这样，两个姑姑还是吃着120RMB一斤的虾喝着348/900g的美赞臣进口奶粉；她的表姐，会计师，在上海，剩女一枚，跟一个台湾的有女朋友的男生纠缠不清，后来终于大家谈开了，于是这事就黄了，扯淡了，人家不愿分手。她表姑，N年前在深圳做酒店前台时就是如花美人，当了某商人的情人，后来年纪大了，回归正途了，跟个弄玻璃厂的小生意人结婚了，开了个小卖部，正正经经平平淡淡。她一个好朋友，跟男友谈了6年恋爱，结婚前几个月被一个只认识两星期的异乡女人打败了，于是这个devastating的事件让这一女博士之后更加终日郁郁形单影只。而这女博士的朋友，在校念英语系时跟一个爱写诗的医学系男生相交甚好如胶似漆，毕业结婚后这医学系男生不去工作继续写诗终日写诗，不知养家糊口为何物，女人只好一人养全家，七年后终于离婚远嫁美国。
除去那些琐碎死人的中年人生活，再讲青春期躁动。我和Lucas在被大雪滞留在伦敦的机场时，我说你给我讲故事吧，于是他告诉我某女S，大家共同的南亚朋友，在本科艰难度日时跟了个40多岁的老男人，男人现在要来伦敦看她，而她打算跟一个巴黎男生在一起把这老男人甩了；某女Y，日本人，遇到了学校里一个对她身体很感兴趣的欧洲人X，X特别喜欢和她OOXX， 而Y付出了真心。后来Y把她日本的男友甩了却发现X依旧不想跟他女友分，X只喜欢跟Y做爱，非常喜欢，仅此而已。而Y无论和他做了多少次，都不能令他分手来跟她在一起。某男M，非常喜欢做爱，既喜欢跟他女朋友做也喜欢跟其他各种女生做。他女朋友也不介意。但他除了喜欢跟他女朋友做爱，还喜欢跟她聊天。这就成了她成为正室的充分条件。
我当时听了就傻了，M, S, Y, X都是我认识的人啊，Lucas住学校信息多，可他从前不是八卦的人，直到在伦敦的最后一天，在Costa里。
跟这些糟糕的凌乱的人生故事比，Brideshead已经很天上人间了。
生活本就如此的艰难，我更喜欢给生活做减法，找个简单的人，也不要什么伦敦巴黎，公园着胡同着就过了吧。
4 ) 要得太多
查尔斯·赖德想要的到底是什么？
作为平民大学生，周旋在一个贵族家庭的两代人之中。受老妇人的委托照顾贵公子，有点象《天才瑞普利》；原著中两个牛津同窗多少有些暧昧的关系变得明目张胆，有点象《莫里斯》；出入贵族之家，追求贵族小姐，又有点象《红与黑》……只是哪一个都象得不那么彻底，相比之下没有以上任何一部作品的深度，与众不同的宗教争论也深入不下去。《故园风雨后》（Brideshead Revisited）08版的电影整个感觉就是这么十三不靠，不左不右不高不低，希望各方都讨好却哪一方的痛脚都不敢触及。没看过小说原著，据说曾经引进过81版的电视剧，不记得看过，或者是已经没有了印象。相信是注入了好莱坞的金钱，英国的艺术品味也就没了本色。
塞巴斯蒂安一开始就说查尔斯知道自己想要什么，这让压抑而迷茫的他羡慕不已。查尔斯学的是历史，想当的是画家，传统与时尚都是他的追求，虚荣与情感都是他的渴望。但如他所说，想要的太多，以至于那些爱与恨、追求和渴望到底是不是自己的都已经说不清了，自己是谁的答案也只剩下一个名字。
总的来说这部电影可能更接近《红与黑》，冲突在象征逐渐没落的旧时代的布莱兹赫德家族与代表新兴资产阶级的平民画家之间展开，旧道德土崩瓦解并非因为新时代的冲击，而是宗教的桎酷使自身丧失了生命力。查尔斯代表的新兴阶层对财富地位的饥渴与贪婪使他们追名逐利，利用一切可以利用的资源，友谊、爱情、信任……并将这些资源吞噬殆尽，最终面对的是自己苍白贫瘠的灵魂，当“穷得只剩钱”的时候，查尔斯们似乎又觉得曾经认为是桎酷的宗教信仰也是某种富足了。查尔斯·赖德想要的到底是什么？爱情、友谊、信任、尊重、金钱、地位、荣誉……噢，最后还要加上灵魂的救赎。连查尔斯自己也说他想要的太多了，真的太多了。
影片里的查尔斯基本上就是个野心勃勃向上爬的小人物，但是没有于连、瑞普利那样不择手段毁灭一切的激情和胆量。他的所有情感追求都是功利的，有分寸的，收放自如的，不疯狂的。他明知塞巴斯蒂安对他的感情，明知自己不愿回应，但仍然呆在塞巴斯蒂安身边，享受他提供的一切，最后所谓“如果我知道会这样”的托辞显得无比的虚伪狡诈。追求朱莉娅原本是男女之间发生的再正常不过的事，但有塞巴斯蒂安在前，就不能不让人想到这种追求的功利目的，查尔斯想要的是朱莉娅还是朱莉娅的庄园？是否追求朱莉娅比跟塞巴斯蒂安暧昧更安全更容易达到目的？
如果查尔斯就是这样彻头彻尾的功利的小人，故园也就没什么风雨了。波折在于查尔斯从来不曾否认自己的野心，却又从来都坏得不纯粹。与塞巴斯蒂安的暧昧并不因为追求朱莉娅而结束，多年后即使知道找回离家的塞巴斯蒂安是个不可能完成的任务，但还是含情脉脉地跑到异国他乡去暧昧了一把，让人感觉当初的纠缠也是出于真情。再次遇到朱莉娅，即使两人各自成婚，却还是不顾舆论压力走到一起，让人感觉当初的追求也是出于真情。然而被证明的真情仍然是不纯粹的，查尔斯没把塞巴斯蒂安带回家，用自己的画换到了朱莉娅的自由，却又把她让给了上帝。诸多种种的不纯粹，让查尔斯在各种势力各种感情各种信念之间来回地游移，哪一种都不真正拥有，哪一种也不真正拒绝，什么便宜都想占，什么亏都不想吃。大约是哪一种纯粹了直白了就好莱坞了，而哪一种都不纯粹都含蓄着才英国，是好莱坞在讨好英国品味，还是英国水准向好莱坞的钱屈膝？抑或是彼此拍马互利共赢？
查尔斯·赖德想要的是什么？08版的《故园风雨后》想要的是什么？——答案只能是，要得太多。打算去看看伊夫林·沃的原著，或许要得不那么多的《旧地重游》反而能够带来更多的东西。
作为平民大学生，周旋在一个贵族家庭的两代人之中。受老妇人的委托照顾贵公子，有点象《天才瑞普利》；原著中两个牛津同窗多少有些暧昧的关系变得明目张胆，有点象《莫里斯》；出入贵族之家，追求贵族小姐，又有点象《红与黑》……只是哪一个都象得不那么彻底，相比之下没有以上任何一部作品的深度，与众不同的宗教争论也深入不下去。《故园风雨后》（Brideshead Revisited）08版的电影整个感觉就是这么十三不靠，不左不右不高不低，希望各方都讨好却哪一方的痛脚都不敢触及。没看过小说原著，据说曾经引进过81版的电视剧，不记得看过，或者是已经没有了印象。相信是注入了好莱坞的金钱，英国的艺术品味也就没了本色。
塞巴斯蒂安一开始就说查尔斯知道自己想要什么，这让压抑而迷茫的他羡慕不已。查尔斯学的是历史，想当的是画家，传统与时尚都是他的追求，虚荣与情感都是他的渴望。但如他所说，想要的太多，以至于那些爱与恨、追求和渴望到底是不是自己的都已经说不清了，自己是谁的答案也只剩下一个名字。
总的来说这部电影可能更接近《红与黑》，冲突在象征逐渐没落的旧时代的布莱兹赫德家族与代表新兴资产阶级的平民画家之间展开，旧道德土崩瓦解并非因为新时代的冲击，而是宗教的桎酷使自身丧失了生命力。查尔斯代表的新兴阶层对财富地位的饥渴与贪婪使他们追名逐利，利用一切可以利用的资源，友谊、爱情、信任……并将这些资源吞噬殆尽，最终面对的是自己苍白贫瘠的灵魂，当“穷得只剩钱”的时候，查尔斯们似乎又觉得曾经认为是桎酷的宗教信仰也是某种富足了。查尔斯·赖德想要的到底是什么？爱情、友谊、信任、尊重、金钱、地位、荣誉……噢，最后还要加上灵魂的救赎。连查尔斯自己也说他想要的太多了，真的太多了。
影片里的查尔斯基本上就是个野心勃勃向上爬的小人物，但是没有于连、瑞普利那样不择手段毁灭一切的激情和胆量。他的所有情感追求都是功利的，有分寸的，收放自如的，不疯狂的。他明知塞巴斯蒂安对他的感情，明知自己不愿回应，但仍然呆在塞巴斯蒂安身边，享受他提供的一切，最后所谓“如果我知道会这样”的托辞显得无比的虚伪狡诈。追求朱莉娅原本是男女之间发生的再正常不过的事，但有塞巴斯蒂安在前，就不能不让人想到这种追求的功利目的，查尔斯想要的是朱莉娅还是朱莉娅的庄园？是否追求朱莉娅比跟塞巴斯蒂安暧昧更安全更容易达到目的？
如果查尔斯就是这样彻头彻尾的功利的小人，故园也就没什么风雨了。波折在于查尔斯从来不曾否认自己的野心，却又从来都坏得不纯粹。与塞巴斯蒂安的暧昧并不因为追求朱莉娅而结束，多年后即使知道找回离家的塞巴斯蒂安是个不可能完成的任务，但还是含情脉脉地跑到异国他乡去暧昧了一把，让人感觉当初的纠缠也是出于真情。再次遇到朱莉娅，即使两人各自成婚，却还是不顾舆论压力走到一起，让人感觉当初的追求也是出于真情。然而被证明的真情仍然是不纯粹的，查尔斯没把塞巴斯蒂安带回家，用自己的画换到了朱莉娅的自由，却又把她让给了上帝。诸多种种的不纯粹，让查尔斯在各种势力各种感情各种信念之间来回地游移，哪一种都不真正拥有，哪一种也不真正拒绝，什么便宜都想占，什么亏都不想吃。大约是哪一种纯粹了直白了就好莱坞了，而哪一种都不纯粹都含蓄着才英国，是好莱坞在讨好英国品味，还是英国水准向好莱坞的钱屈膝？抑或是彼此拍马互利共赢？
查尔斯·赖德想要的是什么？08版的《故园风雨后》想要的是什么？——答案只能是，要得太多。打算去看看伊夫林·沃的原著，或许要得不那么多的《旧地重游》反而能够带来更多的东西。
5 ) 绝境之外
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。
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。
6 ) 一个爱上浪漫的人。
塞巴斯出现的时候，脑子里面只闪过一个词叫glass。
他真的是很像，笑起来也带着非常容易断裂的表情。
我想起一首歌叫一个爱上浪漫的人。
歌词里有一句叫，空留自作的多情余恨
这部剧让人失望的地方就是，查理真的一点都不爱塞巴斯。
甚至一点都不懂得塞巴斯的爱。
他像个象牙的雕塑，只有暖黄的微笑，却没有任何反应。自认高贵聪明其实什么都不懂。
这就连回旋的余地都没有。旁观者都看得灰心难过。
塞巴斯，在没有爱上查理之前是多么的耀眼美丽，潇洒不羁。
爱上查理之后，你就看着他的光泽，在他身上一点点得褪尽。
直到油尽灯枯，直到凋零成秋天枯黄的叶子。折断的时候发出千篇一律的清脆声响。
查理去找他的时候，他眼里全是认命和放弃。
刚开始我确实没有非常喜欢他，我不喜欢他一脸吃不了苦的任性轻浮。
直到他在威尼斯，被现实打了耳光。他穿得再喧嚣华丽但是表情沉默，他选择放弃，选择独自吞下这后果。这后果他根本难以承担。他曾得到过虚假的幸福，为此他付出真实惨重的代价。
塞巴斯终究是个善良的人，但谁来拥抱你的天真。
————————————————————————————
我本来不晓得这片啥内容，看海报也没什么兴趣，是冲着马修古迪去补的。
他演的非常好，毁我塞巴斯毁得一点自觉都没有，好感全灭。
——————————2013年12月重刷———————————
其中有一段，马修和塞巴斯妈妈相互指责的部分：“你才是他喝酒的原因，我不过是想给他一点自由。”
“你只是希望他喜欢你。你竭尽全力得讨别人的喜欢。”
这两句我觉得都对。
他真的是很像，笑起来也带着非常容易断裂的表情。
我想起一首歌叫一个爱上浪漫的人。
歌词里有一句叫，空留自作的多情余恨
这部剧让人失望的地方就是，查理真的一点都不爱塞巴斯。
甚至一点都不懂得塞巴斯的爱。
他像个象牙的雕塑，只有暖黄的微笑，却没有任何反应。自认高贵聪明其实什么都不懂。
这就连回旋的余地都没有。旁观者都看得灰心难过。
塞巴斯，在没有爱上查理之前是多么的耀眼美丽，潇洒不羁。
爱上查理之后，你就看着他的光泽，在他身上一点点得褪尽。
直到油尽灯枯，直到凋零成秋天枯黄的叶子。折断的时候发出千篇一律的清脆声响。
查理去找他的时候，他眼里全是认命和放弃。
刚开始我确实没有非常喜欢他，我不喜欢他一脸吃不了苦的任性轻浮。
直到他在威尼斯，被现实打了耳光。他穿得再喧嚣华丽但是表情沉默，他选择放弃，选择独自吞下这后果。这后果他根本难以承担。他曾得到过虚假的幸福，为此他付出真实惨重的代价。
塞巴斯终究是个善良的人，但谁来拥抱你的天真。
————————————————————————————
我本来不晓得这片啥内容，看海报也没什么兴趣，是冲着马修古迪去补的。
他演的非常好，毁我塞巴斯毁得一点自觉都没有，好感全灭。
——————————2013年12月重刷———————————
其中有一段，马修和塞巴斯妈妈相互指责的部分：“你才是他喝酒的原因，我不过是想给他一点自由。”
“你只是希望他喜欢你。你竭尽全力得讨别人的喜欢。”
这两句我觉得都对。
7 ) some manuscripts
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 Transcript
Voila! 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.
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Brideshead Revisited Script
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 thoughts,
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.
Been away, sir? Anywhere interesting?
- Jungle.
- Jungle.
Explorer, are we?
- Painter.
- Painter?
So, bye-bye beardy, hello smooth.
Famous for his impressive
architectural portraits,
British artist Charles Ryder
has taken New York by storm
with a series of gripping jungle studies.
To own a Ryder is currently the dream
of every self-respecting
East 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 paint
to 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 work
as a metaphor.
Not least, the metaphysical semblance
of 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 time
I should give you advice.
Your mother was always
so good at that.
Who's meeting you?
Cousin Jasper offered
to 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 families
are 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 do
in a country house.
Never wear a tweed coat
and 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 rape
rest nightly upon the soul
of our delicate friend Florialis,
and yet the man is so
quiet and reserved in demeanor
that he passes
for both bloodless and sexless.
Sodomites, all of them. Steer well clear.
Treat all dons
as 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 ruined
through having ground floor rooms
in the front quad.
People start dropping in.
They leave their gowns here
and come and collect them before hall.
You start giving them sherry
and 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 pleasure
to clear up after him.
I take it
you'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 unreservedly
in the hands of Dolbear and Goodall
and feel so drugged
I've begun to believe
the whole of yesterday evening
was 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 me
about 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 be
is 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 bogs
or 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 lunching
with 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 you
a 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 just
buy a bloody camera
and take a bloody photograph
and 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 camera
is a mechanical device
which records a moment in time,
but not what that moment means
or 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 think
cares 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 head
through 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 strawberries
and 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 bury
something precious
in every place where I've been happy.
And, then,
when I was old and ugly and miserable,
I could come back
and 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's
on her way up from London.
It's the Conservative Women's Tea.
They always turn out for Brideshead.
I'm afraid we may have
to miss them, Nanny.
Your mother will be disappointed.
I'm sure Her Ladyship
would 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 shilling
on 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 car
with your mother?
- My sister.
- What's she like?
For goodness sake, Charles,
I don't keep asking you questions
about your family.
But I've never
asked you anything before.
You're so inquisitive.
Well, you're so mysterious about them.
I hoped I was mysterious
about everything.
Why don't you want me
to meet your family?
Who are you ashamed of, them or me?
Don't be so vulgar, Charles.
I'm not having you mixed up
with 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 mine
has 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 not
as serious as you seem to suggest
or it would not have been signed
by the victim himself.
Still, of course, he may well be
fully 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 thought
you wouldn't come if you knew.
He's not badly hurt, then?
He cracked a bone in his foot
so 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 way
for 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 Wilcox
to 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 you
all 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 goes
for 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 up
the arbitrariness of it all.
I see. So, you're here arbitrarily?
He's here as my friend.
Given Mr. Ryder's
staunch position on religion,
don't you think he ought to know
what he's getting into?
Leave Charles out of it.
- Tell me.
- Oh, God.
Mummy takes her faith
very seriously, indeed.
So seriously, in fact,
that our fat little priest, Father Mackay,
called her a living saint.
Mind you, he drinks.
Sebastian and I
are 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 up
talking about family?
It's time for my bath.
Good evening, Mr. Ryder.
Look after my brother.
I don't think your sister
likes me very much.
I don't think
she 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 be
like 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 this
is 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 we
agreed upon, Sebastian,
when we talked about this
at 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 Sebastian
call you away in too much of a rush.
I'm afraid I didn't quite have time
to pack the right things.
Sebastian must lend you some clothes
while you're here.
Or perhaps Bridey's a better fit.
Are you a Bridey
or 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 been
looked after properly, Ryder.
Has Sebastian
been seeing to the wine?
Yes. Sebastian's been
seeing 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 drunk
more 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 led
to an interest in trains?
No.
So, are you close
with Sebastian's crowd?
Not really.
- With Anthony Blanche?
- We're acquainted.
Charles is a painter, Mummy.
How charming.
We must get you
to paint something for us.
- Would you do that, Mr. Ryder?
- I'd be delighted.
I think Brideshead's the most
beautiful house I've ever seen.
- It's utterly magical.
- How kind you are.
Summer at Brideshead.
Mr. Ryder must stay with us
for the rest of the vacation.
As a matter of fact,
I've just heard from Papa.
He wants me to go and see him
in Venice. And Julia.
I see.
And do you intend
to accept this invitation?
Yes. Why not?
What about you, Julia?
Will you be going?
I'd like to.
Wouldn't you rather
stay at Brideshead?
Well, yes, if you want me to.
- You must not neglect your duty.
- No, Mother.
I think we might spend a little time
in 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 bob
to 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 trespasses
as we forgive
those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
Amen.
Have you ever
been to Venice, Mr. Ryder?
No. No, I haven't.
Every ambitious young man
should visit Venice.
It makes one sound more complete.
I was thinking, if Sebastian were to go,
it might be a good thing
if you were to accompany him.
He needs someone plausible
by his side.
I gather last time he was there, he was
befriending 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 me
a very reliable young man.
- San Giovanni e Paolo.
- Oh, dear.
I can see
you're going to be impossibly curious.
By the way, I should warn you.
Our lovely father is rather a scoundrel.
He lives
in 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 tennis
at 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 everything
to 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 seemed
pleased to see you.
I'm not sure Father
cares much if I come.
He'd probably be just as happy
if 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 me
you are a painter.
- Charles is an artist.
- Good.
Well, then I will show you all the
great 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 unable
to paint anything half decent
without 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 hours
every 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 do
what 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 that
for 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 chapel
near 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 were
so 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 mind
if 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 think
they 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 you
to spy on me as well.
Don't be like that.
Why don't I come round
to 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 you
about 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 suppose
we both drink too much, really.
No, not at all. You drink to get drunk,
Sebastian drinks to escape
the claims of his conscience.
I do wish I could understand
why 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 you
to make yourself look foolish, Charles.
Her future is not a question of choice.
It is a matter of faith.
Were it simply
a difference in upbringing,
this I might overlook.
But you are a self-proclaimed atheist,
and my daughter
is destined to marry a Catholic.
God commands and we obey.
However, we're forgetting ourselves.
We're here to talk
about your friendship with my son.
I'm not sure Sebastian
wants 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 you
to keep Sebastian company.
You came to Brideshead
as my son's friend.
If you have
unaccountably offended him,
it is surely not too much to ask
that you revisit your responsibilities.
- To him or to you?
- To the family.
And, of course,
Brideshead does look particularly
beautiful at this time of year.
Tell me, I'm curious.
Since, as you claim,
you have no religion,
what do you imagine
you 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 was
alive.
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 English
blue 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 me
like a great big cow!
I'm fine.
I'm fine so long
as I've got plenty of this.
I want you to know that
whatever 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 Bridey
at 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 well
have 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 watch
and 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 up
on 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 Flyte
to 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 wanted
was 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 nice
in so many ways,
and then do something
so wantonly cruel?
We all liked you so much.
I don't understand how we deserved it.
Do you think it's better
to make him feel like a criminal?
Having him watched
every second of the day?
But you deliberately
helped him to drink.
You're the reason he drinks,
not me.
All I did was
try 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 brochure
and 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 me
to buy something now?
Silent and grave,
and then "pop," mouse is dead.
- Charles.
- Lady Marchmain.
Thank you, Father.
I'm so glad your son
didn'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 Paddington
are limited in number.
I hear you have your first exhibition
at the Royal Academy.
Congratulations.
I'm sure you're not here
to 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 me
to 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 called
was 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 friendship
with both your children
and now you expect me
to go begging on your behalf?
There's no one else I can ask.
Even if I were to agree,
what makes you think Sebastian
would take any notice of me?
Because he cared for you more
than 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 friend
has 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 said
it'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 know
he was waiting for you.
It's rather a pleasant change,
when all your life
you've had people looking after you,
to have someone to look after, yourself.
I thought you'd want to go back
to Brideshead one day.
Brideshead?
Are you mad?
The place would still be full of her.
I wouldn't go within
a 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 for
bringing 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 without
ever 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 was
thoroughly 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 Duke
and 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 impetuously
to 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 love
and 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 have
chosen jungles for your canvas.
I always thought you
were the lamb to be slaughtered,
when all along it is they
who 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 war
coming 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 making
quite 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 could
exactly call her pretty.
"Comely" is the word
I 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 her
for her matchboxes, are you, Bridey?
No, no.
Matchboxes were left
to 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 woman
of strict Catholic principle,
fortified by the prejudices
of the middle classes.
I couldn't possibly bring her here.
I don't understand.
It may be a matter of indifference
to you,
whether or not you choose
to live in sin with Charles,
but on no account would Beryl
consent to be your guest.
How dare you talk to her like that?
Bloody offensive thing to say!
Really, there was nothing
she could object to.
I was merely stating
a 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 made
from 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 offend
their delicate sensibilities.
So, you wanna take my wife off me?
You know she can't marry
a divorc? right?
- Against the rules.
- Well, at least she'll be free of you.
She'll never be free.
Don't pretend
you've been faithful to her.
Who said anything about faith?
I bet you'd love to get your hands
on 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 had
in 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 all
if 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 enough
of 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 jungle
pics, 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 paintings
in 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 backgammon
and 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 could
really 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 planted
all 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,
Brideshead Revisited Script - Dialogue Transcript
Voila! 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.
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Brideshead Revisited Script
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 thoughts,
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.
Been away, sir? Anywhere interesting?
- Jungle.
- Jungle.
Explorer, are we?
- Painter.
- Painter?
So, bye-bye beardy, hello smooth.
Famous for his impressive
architectural portraits,
British artist Charles Ryder
has taken New York by storm
with a series of gripping jungle studies.
To own a Ryder is currently the dream
of every self-respecting
East 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 paint
to 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 work
as a metaphor.
Not least, the metaphysical semblance
of 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 time
I should give you advice.
Your mother was always
so good at that.
Who's meeting you?
Cousin Jasper offered
to 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 families
are 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 do
in a country house.
Never wear a tweed coat
and 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 rape
rest nightly upon the soul
of our delicate friend Florialis,
and yet the man is so
quiet and reserved in demeanor
that he passes
for both bloodless and sexless.
Sodomites, all of them. Steer well clear.
Treat all dons
as 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 ruined
through having ground floor rooms
in the front quad.
People start dropping in.
They leave their gowns here
and come and collect them before hall.
You start giving them sherry
and 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 pleasure
to clear up after him.
I take it
you'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 unreservedly
in the hands of Dolbear and Goodall
and feel so drugged
I've begun to believe
the whole of yesterday evening
was 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 me
about 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 be
is 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 bogs
or 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 lunching
with 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 you
a 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 just
buy a bloody camera
and take a bloody photograph
and 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 camera
is a mechanical device
which records a moment in time,
but not what that moment means
or 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 think
cares 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 head
through 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 strawberries
and 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 bury
something precious
in every place where I've been happy.
And, then,
when I was old and ugly and miserable,
I could come back
and 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's
on her way up from London.
It's the Conservative Women's Tea.
They always turn out for Brideshead.
I'm afraid we may have
to miss them, Nanny.
Your mother will be disappointed.
I'm sure Her Ladyship
would 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 shilling
on 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 car
with your mother?
- My sister.
- What's she like?
For goodness sake, Charles,
I don't keep asking you questions
about your family.
But I've never
asked you anything before.
You're so inquisitive.
Well, you're so mysterious about them.
I hoped I was mysterious
about everything.
Why don't you want me
to meet your family?
Who are you ashamed of, them or me?
Don't be so vulgar, Charles.
I'm not having you mixed up
with 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 mine
has 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 not
as serious as you seem to suggest
or it would not have been signed
by the victim himself.
Still, of course, he may well be
fully 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 thought
you wouldn't come if you knew.
He's not badly hurt, then?
He cracked a bone in his foot
so 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 way
for 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 Wilcox
to 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 you
all 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 goes
for 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 up
the arbitrariness of it all.
I see. So, you're here arbitrarily?
He's here as my friend.
Given Mr. Ryder's
staunch position on religion,
don't you think he ought to know
what he's getting into?
Leave Charles out of it.
- Tell me.
- Oh, God.
Mummy takes her faith
very seriously, indeed.
So seriously, in fact,
that our fat little priest, Father Mackay,
called her a living saint.
Mind you, he drinks.
Sebastian and I
are 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 up
talking about family?
It's time for my bath.
Good evening, Mr. Ryder.
Look after my brother.
I don't think your sister
likes me very much.
I don't think
she 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 be
like 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 this
is 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 we
agreed upon, Sebastian,
when we talked about this
at 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 Sebastian
call you away in too much of a rush.
I'm afraid I didn't quite have time
to pack the right things.
Sebastian must lend you some clothes
while you're here.
Or perhaps Bridey's a better fit.
Are you a Bridey
or 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 been
looked after properly, Ryder.
Has Sebastian
been seeing to the wine?
Yes. Sebastian's been
seeing 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 drunk
more 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 led
to an interest in trains?
No.
So, are you close
with Sebastian's crowd?
Not really.
- With Anthony Blanche?
- We're acquainted.
Charles is a painter, Mummy.
How charming.
We must get you
to paint something for us.
- Would you do that, Mr. Ryder?
- I'd be delighted.
I think Brideshead's the most
beautiful house I've ever seen.
- It's utterly magical.
- How kind you are.
Summer at Brideshead.
Mr. Ryder must stay with us
for the rest of the vacation.
As a matter of fact,
I've just heard from Papa.
He wants me to go and see him
in Venice. And Julia.
I see.
And do you intend
to accept this invitation?
Yes. Why not?
What about you, Julia?
Will you be going?
I'd like to.
Wouldn't you rather
stay at Brideshead?
Well, yes, if you want me to.
- You must not neglect your duty.
- No, Mother.
I think we might spend a little time
in 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 bob
to 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 trespasses
as we forgive
those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
Amen.
Have you ever
been to Venice, Mr. Ryder?
No. No, I haven't.
Every ambitious young man
should visit Venice.
It makes one sound more complete.
I was thinking, if Sebastian were to go,
it might be a good thing
if you were to accompany him.
He needs someone plausible
by his side.
I gather last time he was there, he was
befriending 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 me
a very reliable young man.
- San Giovanni e Paolo.
- Oh, dear.
I can see
you're going to be impossibly curious.
By the way, I should warn you.
Our lovely father is rather a scoundrel.
He lives
in 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 tennis
at 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 everything
to 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 seemed
pleased to see you.
I'm not sure Father
cares much if I come.
He'd probably be just as happy
if 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 me
you are a painter.
- Charles is an artist.
- Good.
Well, then I will show you all the
great 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 unable
to paint anything half decent
without 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 hours
every 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 do
what 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 that
for 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 chapel
near 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 were
so 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 mind
if 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 think
they 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 you
to spy on me as well.
Don't be like that.
Why don't I come round
to 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 you
about 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 suppose
we both drink too much, really.
No, not at all. You drink to get drunk,
Sebastian drinks to escape
the claims of his conscience.
I do wish I could understand
why 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 you
to make yourself look foolish, Charles.
Her future is not a question of choice.
It is a matter of faith.
Were it simply
a difference in upbringing,
this I might overlook.
But you are a self-proclaimed atheist,
and my daughter
is destined to marry a Catholic.
God commands and we obey.
However, we're forgetting ourselves.
We're here to talk
about your friendship with my son.
I'm not sure Sebastian
wants 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 you
to keep Sebastian company.
You came to Brideshead
as my son's friend.
If you have
unaccountably offended him,
it is surely not too much to ask
that you revisit your responsibilities.
- To him or to you?
- To the family.
And, of course,
Brideshead does look particularly
beautiful at this time of year.
Tell me, I'm curious.
Since, as you claim,
you have no religion,
what do you imagine
you 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 was
alive.
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 English
blue 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 me
like a great big cow!
I'm fine.
I'm fine so long
as I've got plenty of this.
I want you to know that
whatever 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 Bridey
at 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 well
have 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 watch
and 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 up
on 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 Flyte
to 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 wanted
was 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 nice
in so many ways,
and then do something
so wantonly cruel?
We all liked you so much.
I don't understand how we deserved it.
Do you think it's better
to make him feel like a criminal?
Having him watched
every second of the day?
But you deliberately
helped him to drink.
You're the reason he drinks,
not me.
All I did was
try 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 brochure
and 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 me
to buy something now?
Silent and grave,
and then "pop," mouse is dead.
- Charles.
- Lady Marchmain.
Thank you, Father.
I'm so glad your son
didn'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 Paddington
are limited in number.
I hear you have your first exhibition
at the Royal Academy.
Congratulations.
I'm sure you're not here
to 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 me
to 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 called
was 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 friendship
with both your children
and now you expect me
to go begging on your behalf?
There's no one else I can ask.
Even if I were to agree,
what makes you think Sebastian
would take any notice of me?
Because he cared for you more
than 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 friend
has 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 said
it'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 know
he was waiting for you.
It's rather a pleasant change,
when all your life
you've had people looking after you,
to have someone to look after, yourself.
I thought you'd want to go back
to Brideshead one day.
Brideshead?
Are you mad?
The place would still be full of her.
I wouldn't go within
a 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 for
bringing 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 without
ever 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 was
thoroughly 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 Duke
and 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 impetuously
to 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 love
and 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 have
chosen jungles for your canvas.
I always thought you
were the lamb to be slaughtered,
when all along it is they
who 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 war
coming 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 making
quite 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 could
exactly call her pretty.
"Comely" is the word
I 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 her
for her matchboxes, are you, Bridey?
No, no.
Matchboxes were left
to 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 woman
of strict Catholic principle,
fortified by the prejudices
of the middle classes.
I couldn't possibly bring her here.
I don't understand.
It may be a matter of indifference
to you,
whether or not you choose
to live in sin with Charles,
but on no account would Beryl
consent to be your guest.
How dare you talk to her like that?
Bloody offensive thing to say!
Really, there was nothing
she could object to.
I was merely stating
a 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 made
from 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 offend
their delicate sensibilities.
So, you wanna take my wife off me?
You know she can't marry
a divorc? right?
- Against the rules.
- Well, at least she'll be free of you.
She'll never be free.
Don't pretend
you've been faithful to her.
Who said anything about faith?
I bet you'd love to get your hands
on 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 had
in 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 all
if 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 enough
of 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 jungle
pics, 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 paintings
in 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 backgammon
and 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 could
really 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 planted
all 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,
这不是一部同性恋电影。说完了。
再一次证明，爱上双性恋男纸的永远木偶好结果，各种原因下他选择滴永远是S滴妹妹or表姐or等等一系列，而S只能毫无办法的站在他身后看着他们接吻，在阴暗冰冷的窗下，一个人独醉，C穿着笔挺军装重游故地，心里挂念的是谁，不是S太执着，而是C要的太多，S给不起
不管它探讨宗教还是人生，但是最能让我感到心有戚戚的是萨巴斯蒂安的感受，那个夏天再也回不来了……
究竟是要得太少，还是太多，是太自私，还是太无私？被取走的，正是你无法给予的。（“如果能一直这样多好，永远是夏天。”本·卫肖满足了我所有关于忧郁而享乐的贵族少年的想象。）
最喜欢二十岁不到的你们坐在阶前喝酒 说这瓶是脖颈的珍珠链 那杯是最后一只独角兽 还有你手里的剔透晶莹 是夏日的绿底白花看不够 要得太多大概说得含蓄 不过谁说这不是爱情
布莱兹赫德庄园是一个美丽却又让人感到窒息的地方。有的人使劲力气想要挣脱出来，有的人却慢慢的失去了挣脱的勇气；有人闯入进来，却最终一无所得。只有庄园依旧那般清冷肃穆。本·威士肖演绎出来的Sebastian柔弱、病态、阴郁，放纵中流露出一丝纯洁与孩子气……这些都深深打动我。
喜欢Sebastian，觉得他和所有人都不同，这个故事里所有的人都是世俗模式下的人，他们要的都是世俗模式下的情感，追求，成功等等。唯有他是任性的按照自己的内心而活的。
小Ben太让人心疼了……Matthew那个古典范儿加英音一如既往杀必死！
从来没有一部电影能让我如此憎恨男女之情
英国名著电影有三宝：庄园、虐恋、帅基佬。
Charlez步出教堂的那個鏡頭，也是在很有意思的。他猶豫熄滅教堂的蠟燭但最終沒有熄滅，也許是他對Sebastian和Julia的感情！（慶幸的是，他第一個想起的是遠在土耳其的Sebastian，接著才是門縫中瞥見的Juliet）
这个故事告诉我的，是不要痴望等着谁来救你，也不要以为自己可以救谁。
不是太理解，总觉得隔着一层什么东西
世界第一直男靠艺术气质搞定贵族小gay最后只为自己功成名就的故事。（大家有没有觉得很眼熟啊……）
对我口味的闷闷的英伦片，虽然MG在电影里乏善可陈，不过对于我这花痴货来说看了这张帅脸足足两个小时已经足够了，Ben的表演绝对值得一看并加颗星，亲吻之后娇羞的抿嘴唇的动作萌到爆表，娇弱，纤细，敏感。
BenWhishaw销魂死
冗長而堅硬的故事。總是有血淋淋的事實。喜歡這電影。
哀而不伤，细腻隽永
非常讨厌电影版，哪怕里面有再多喜欢的演员都一样。电视剧用了11集才把这本小说的精气神完整地展现出来，每个角色都很复杂，而电影版似乎只抓住了其中最商业的部分，并且把原作刻意模糊化的同性情愫给推到了最前面。本猫和马修的无脑粉太多可能也是我反感这一版的原因。
落日余晖中旖旎的英国贵族生活画卷，美丽又哀愁的OLD COLOR，维多利来时代由查尔斯和塞巴斯蒂安谱写的“美丽曲线”。真真是“原来姹紫嫣红开遍，似这般，都付与断井颓垣。”