我出生了，但……

小孩子好不容易在异乡站稳了脚跟，哪怕就算现在“征服”了老板的儿子，但是发现最后还是和父亲的地位息息相关，未来还是要给老板的儿子打工。

有些东西真的是千古不变的吧。

小孩问：

爸妈其实没有解答，只能拥有美好的期待，而美好的期待这种东西，基本都没什么用：

父亲的话

母亲的话

到了最后，还是变成轮回，孩子的孩子也会这样问吧：

黑白电影，对演员的表演，蒙太奇的运用，光线的选择都有更高的要求。小演员们表现出色，蒙太奇流畅自然，构图和榻榻米视角已经看出小津安二郎的风格了。用一百分钟，讲述了小孩子对尊严的追求，社会环境对人的“改造”，最终孩子们还是和父亲一起吃起了饭团🍙，一起向上流阶级卑躬屈膝，孩子们貌似成熟了，大人们貌似和谐了，其实充满了创作者提出的为尊严还是为“饭团”的追问，卖米酒的小男孩是以后的两个孩子的影子。只有父亲借米酒消愁，头发凌乱，在深夜里和妻子抹几滴泪，才是挤压在尊严与饭团之间那类成年人的真实写照。最后看似和谐圆满的结尾充满了青年一代的妥协，孩子们就算没用米酒，也可以用中将和将军来麻痹自己，默默接受以金钱区分高下的日本社会。

看电影的情节第一段电影快进的插曲是快速发展的日本社会的表现。

在第二段电影里爸爸扮丑的样子永远刻在孩子们的心里。

爸爸也不想做鬼脸，可是“他们家有钱啊。”

父母的凝视，好像在说“如果是你们，你们会怎么办呢？”

选择尊严还是选择“饭团🍙”？爸爸妈妈在身后看着你们。

这部片子既滑稽又辛辣，尤其是最后的高潮，父子吵架之后，父亲问母亲，他们是否会过上像我们一样悲伤的生活？

这部片子在现在很应景，迎合了当下许多人不想生孩子的想法。假如生下来的孩子仍然会像父母一样当打工人，对老板笑脸相迎，做着自己不喜欢的事情，碌碌无为的过完慌乱的一生，那又有什么意义？

像在玩游戏一样，我们的主控角色是两个孩子。在这个视角里，观众可以感受孩子的纯净，幼稚。但是作为心智成熟的成年人，我们也可以理解父亲的所做所为。世界上的大多数人，都只会默默无闻的过完一生。

影片的前部分着重塑造了孩子们之间的联系：交战双方的孩子各自找着更strong的人来征服对方、神秘的让Taro躺下的手势魔法、掏鸟蛋当电影入场券等等。Taro这个孩子的角色随着剧情的推进逐渐立体了起来。后来上学的片段揭示了虽然他不strong，但是他的爸爸是老板。可见孩子的世界就像是成年世界的幼稚翻版，是否strong是评判孩子在孩子世界里的地位的重要指标，strong的孩子可以操纵不那么strong的孩子。而在成人世界里，这个指标就说钱了。

看电影这一段终于把孩子的世界和成人世界连接了起来，也引发了最终的矛盾。看电影之前，strong的孩子们都只能把鸟蛋给Taro才能得到电影的入场券，现在想来，这其实是一种暗示。看电影这个情节将父亲这个角色推向了矛盾的顶点。在孩子的世界里，他是严厉的父亲，a important somebody（我没有找到中文字幕，所以看的是英文的字幕。。），在成人世界里，他是老板的舔狗。这是非常不同的自我表露，却在这个交错的世界里重合在一起了，孩子们看到了成人世界里的未曾设想的父亲，他的形象分崩离析了。在这个片段里，父亲没有回头看两个孩子，也许是不敢看吧。这一段出现了多个父亲背影的镜头，我们期待父亲会回过头来，期待他的表情，反应，可是他自始至终没有回头。

另外，长子长得好像陈冠希。

吃面包的次子

小孩

电影史同款截图，父亲的动作和衣服达成一种默契

有点有趣

看电影的父亲的背影

生气的长子

“你是一个弱虫。”

他们会过上和我们一样悲伤的生活吗？

AlthoughI Was Born, But…(Yasujiro Ozu, 1932) was one of the early works by Ozu, he demonstrates an exceptional aptitude on embodying the callous power dynamics within Japanese working-class structure through the lens of two kids’ growing dismay and perplexity. The film, through a parallel narrative of the father Yoshii (Tatsuo Saito) in work and his children Ryoichi (Hideo Sugawara) and Keiji (Tomio Aoki) in school, presents a keen comparison of the power dynamics of these characters when dealing with convoluted interpersonal relationships.

I Was Born, But…revolves around the notion of power. For salarymen like Yoshii, all the powers concentrate on the hands of the Iwasaki (Takeshi Sakamoto), the big executive in charge of the firm. In order to receive a good salary, and afford a better life for the family, Yoshii racks his mind to hobnob with his boss. Regardless of the physical locations, he would approach Iwasaki in an adulatory manner whenever he has a chance, to not only physically, but mentally live near the boss. Knowing Iwasaki’s passion for film, Yoshii even participates in Iwasaki’s filming of daily vignettes to cater for his interest, which will later trigger a galling incidence, provoking a series of family dramas. While Ozu revealed a bleak image of underlying hierarchies in the adult world and the hypocritical social fabric embedded in the system, he presented a rather humorous and frisky plot via the scope of the neighborhood children, paralleling with the salaryman script. Unlike the adult world brimming with intrigues and office politics, for children, the advent of power lies in physical strength. New to the neighborhood, Ryoichi and Keiji struggle to blend in the new environment, especially when they are intimidated by school bullies, led by a bigger kid (Zentaro Iijima). Luckily, they are wise enough to exploit the physical power of the older delivery boy (Shoichi Kofujita), and eventually to supersede the bigger kid as the most dominant figures in the neighborhood. Even Taro (Katô), Iwasaki’s son, has to pay deference to the boys’ incantation. (a game often played among the children) In the sequence in which the kids witness Yoshii accompanying Iwasaki back home, we finally see these two storylines interweave. Ashamed of the fact that Taro’s father is their father’s boss, Ryoichi and Keiji once again cast the incantation on Toro, hoping to regain at least part of their supremacy. However, Yoshii intervenes and halts the game forthwith, helping Taro gets up from the ground as if he is treating his boss at work at the same time reproaching his sons’ impropriety. Of course, the twins would not understand why their father, an undisputed hero figure in their opinion, would treat Taro in such an obsequious manner. Nevertheless, Father’s reprimand is a blow to the brothers’ imaginary fantasy, offering them a snippet of the how things should work in the reality. The scene puts the two independent worlds under the same frame, revealing adult society’s boot-licking conducts as oppose to children’s ingenuous power ideology and imparting them an imperative lesson about the rigid stratification of the society for the first time.

Ozu's deft camera movements usage are inalienable from narrative functions achieved inI Was Born, But.Nonetheless, the most salient visual style ought to be his utilization of camera movements as a medium to navigate between the two major storylines. Reminiscent of Fritz Lang’s employment of sound as a cue to cut between different spaces inM, (Fritz Lang, 1931), Ozu harnessed the tracking of the camera to establish a relationship between two shots regardless of the discontinuous spaces. In the playground/office scene, a sequence of students marching down the playground is cut to the father’s office smoothly as the camera tracks from left to right. The playful camera movement proffers a sense of verisimilitude as audiences mentally follow the camera motion, navigating between the two settings despite the lack of temporal unity. The juxtaposition of irrelevant sequences also puts two drastically different worlds (children and adults) in compare and contrast with each other, soliciting viewers’ examination of the ulterior motifs behind the image. On the playground, the bigger kid got excoriated by the teacher for not following instructions like other students do. In a cut to the next sequence, the camera, however, now tracking from left to right, capturing an associate who meant to concentrate on work, and shifts right forthwith as he could not resist the soporific working environment and began to yawn like anyone else. These nuances in each character’s synchronous motions allude to the social conformity which everyone ought to obey, epitomizing the foreboding transition from carefree children to institutionalized worker for each person living in the society surrounded by sheer competition.

Although taking immense amounts of inspiration from classical Hollywood comedy, Ozu repeatedly violated the Hollywood continuity editing principle. Instead filming the dialogue scene in the traditional over-the-shoulder method, Ozu framed his dialogue scene more often in a 360-degree style, constantly switching camera positions, proffering a discordant but holistic scene. In the film’s final scene, after understanding the father’s identity and accepting the reality of the life, the two brothers admitted Taro’s father is indeed better. After reconciliation, a straight-on medium long shot shows that the brothers again casting incantation on Taro. In the next shot, however, the camera has already moved behind Ryoichi’s feet, as we observe Taro’s “death” on the ground. At the moment that Ryoichi and Keiji cast the second “revival” incantation in the subsequent shot, the camera has completely switched to the opposite point of view that the initial shot is at, revealing not only the twin brothers but also the train rail barrier.

People would often associate discontinuity film production such as 360-degree system, uncanny camera positions, and playful editing with a sense of distance and detachment because of the diminishing effect on the temporal unity across the narrative. But for Ozu, the combination of these techniques results the opposite, presenting a self-aware and emotionally-intense everyday scenario which builds upon a direct conversation with the audience. The usage of these cinematic techniques continues to be an inextricable part of Ozu’s directing language through his entire film career, embodying his philosophy of straddling the realm of subjectivity and objectivity, and offering contemplative cinemas to viewers not only to realize the sadness and melancholy about the reality of life but to retrospect their own experiences.

《我出生了，但......》 1932年 小津安二郎 日本「电影旬报」选为年度最佳电影。 小津早期的一部默片。今天在微信读书里找来一本小津的自传，名为《豆腐匠的哲学》，其中有讲到这部极具幽默意味的默片，Mark了一年多终于有机会找出来看看。看完有两个非常意外的发现，一是原来小津以前拍的电影是如此幽默，二是小津并不是一开始就拍属于他个人风格的低机位，但是可以说是他往后有声片的雏形。 在这部默片中也处处显示出小津的电影美学，两个小兄弟总是异乎寻常的做同样的动作，是如此自然的一致，一来让观众感到幽默二来也形成了小津影片标志性的动作符号，以此区别于其他。 另外这部默片造型感也极强，精准的构图与人物的集体性动作总是引人发笑，连双手捂着眼睛哭也要做到极致。 通过孩童的视角呈现大人的复杂世界，可谓是小题材大主题。不得不说片中的孩子的表演太生动了，一点儿也不让人出戏，当然这与导演和摄影师极强的捕捉能力是有极大关系的，营造出了太多精彩的画面，即使是默片，也毫无影响继续观看的欲望。 这是一部关于成长的电影，残酷且沉重的话题，只是导演用幽默的方式呈现出来，就像这片名，"我出生了，但......"，每个人的阶级出身不能由自己决定，但是两个小兄弟通过自己的努力使得在一群孩子里成了孩子王，可是父亲面对现实生活只好得像太郎的父亲点头哈腰以比来养家糊口。 或许两兄弟依然不明白为什么父亲不能成为一个大人物？ 不能反过来给太郎的父亲发薪水？ 我相信时间和成长会给他们答案，但是要改变现状可不是做"孩子王"这么容易的一件事情。