| Haolun's profileHaolun Shu 's film 舒浩仑电影PhotosBlog |  Tools  Help |
|
2/2/2007 纪录片《乡愁》放映@上海当代艺术馆（MOCA Shanghai)The Screening of Documentary NOSTALGIA @ MOCA Shanghai 由舒浩仑的纪录片《乡愁》（中英文字幕）将于2007年2月7日（周三）晚7点在上海当代艺术馆（MOCA Shanghai, 人民公园内）放映，此次放映活动也是"记录"-上海当代艺术馆纪录片放映活动的一部分，导演舒浩仑将会出席放映后的讨论。 门票和入场： 本次放映活动无需入场费，但请务必提前预约。活动当天请适当提前到达，致MOCA后，听从MOCA 馆员安排进入放映室。预约或了解详情请致电63279900-124,或请发送邮件至education@mocashanghai.org 关于该系列反映活动的其他电影信息，请查阅 http://www.mocashanghai.org/activity/recording-c.htm 故事梗概： 第三届Reel China当代中国纪录片双年展的最佳纪录片奖。舒浩仑的《乡愁》是一部关于上海的私人影像记忆，记录了一个将要拆迁的静安区石库门里弄大中里的当下和往昔，片中出现的人物都是和导演生活记忆息息相关的亲人和邻居，舒浩仑导演以平实的心态记录了作为宁波移民的祖孙三代在这个城市变迁过程里经历的一切，在这些耄耋老人的回忆里我们甚至可以感到我们自己的童年，这部记录片告诉了我们一个方法论，怎样在一个小的题材里反映城市的历史、文化和人文境遇（摘自卡夫卡•陆的影评） 第三届Reel China当代中国纪录片双年展评委会评语： 作为一部出类拔萃而又有雄心抱负的散文式纪录片，此片结合了日记体裁、采访和再现，以别具风格的形式同时呈现了个人心灵和社会问题……它有力地传达了一个社会变迁过程中各种因素间的复杂关系、冲突与平衡。 此片的慢节奏有效传达了时光流逝的节奏。黑白色调的再现部分使得旧时记忆愈发戏剧化，运用从前的音乐歌曲也有同样效果。 这不仅仅是个人史，也是对社会价值的一次审视。究竟谁‘拥有’这片邻里？这里的居民吗？谁来决定对于这个居民区和这里的人们来说，什么是‘最好的’？这些不仅仅是中国面临的问题。这部纪录片毫无疑问反映了中国社会——或更精确一点说，反映了上海——但它提出的问题是世界各地的城市都在面临的。 媒体报道： 美国全国公共广播电台(NPR)称其为一首关于逝去的上海的电影诗
NPR( Public Radio, US) regard it as A Cinematic Ode to Shanghai's Vanishing World (http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=6616570 ORhttp://haolunshu.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!B4B211DAFD50C87C!226.entry )
深圳晶报称其是2006年“纪录片的经典之作”：http://paper.sznews.com/jb/20070106/ca2549685.htm 南方周末： 石库门乡愁， http://www.nanfangdaily.com.cn/zm/20060720/wh/dsys/200607200025.asp 2006年9月份的《艺术世界》对导演舒浩仑的专访：私人记忆的影像化写作 http://www.yishushijie.com/magazine/2006/2006.09/image/12dv2.html Reuters (路透社）: Shanghai film mourns loss of neighborhoods-http://asia.news.yahoo.com/060714/3/2n54b.html
The Screening of Documentary NOSTALGIA @ MOCA Shanghai The Chinese documentary film NOSTALGIA (with English subtitle) By Haolun Shu is going to screen @ MoCA Shanghai on 7PM, February 7th (Wed.), which is also part of RECORDING, documentary screening serial by MOCA. Director Haolun Shu invites you to attend its screening. and He will attend the discussion after the screening. Admission: NO entrance fee is required for screening . Please book in advance and check in at the front desk. The MOCA staff will give you the directions to the screening room. For booking or further inquiries please email us at education@mocashanghai.org or call 63279900-124. The Other film screenings from RECORDING, documentary screening serial, please check http://www.mocashanghai.org/activity/recording-e.htm The film's synopsis: Winner of the Reel China 2006 Best Documentary Award, Shu Haolun's Nostalgia is a breakthrough film about the transformation of Shanghai's urban environment. When Shu hears that the neighbourhood of traditional shikumen housing he grew up in is slated for demolition, Shu takes his DV camera back home. Moving between chats with grandma, walks through the old alleyways, and re-enactments of his childhood, the result is an entertaining but pointed and poignant diary about the heavy price to be paid for urban development. The Remark from the jury of 3rd (2006)Reel China Documentary Biennial: The outstanding ambitious essay documentary film combines the diary form with interview and reenactments to bring the personal experience into the broader social issues through a unique way… It powerfully tells the tension between various factors in the process of society development. The slow pace of the documentary turns out to be the artist’s strategy for capturing the rhythm of passing time. The use of black-and-white reenactment scenes on his old memories is quite effective, and so is the of 1980s' music. It is not just a personal history, but also a critical look at social values. Who actually ‘owns’ this neighborhood? The residents? And who defines what is “best” for the neighborhood, and for those who live there? These are important questions, and not just in China. This film raised not only questions which China – or, more accurately Shanghai – faced, but also apply the cities around the world. The media report on NOSTALGIA: NPR( Public Radio, US) regard it as A Cinematic Ode to Shanghai's Vanishing World (http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=6616570, OR, http://haolunshu.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!B4B211DAFD50C87C!226.entry Reuters: Shanghai film mourns loss of neighborhoods-http://asia.news.yahoo.com/060714/3/2n54b.html Jingbao (A Shenzhen Newspaper) regard it as the classical among 2006 Chinese Documentary films 1/20/2007 一个电台音乐节目的DJ对纪录片《乡愁》的感悟 【转贴】
深圳晶报称《乡愁》是2006年“纪录片的经典之作”
2006年中国纪录片繁荣与寂寞同在 2007年01月06日 晶报 http://paper.sznews.com/jb/20070106/ca2549685.htm 2006年，中国的纪录片像是进行了一场有计划的“战役”，声势浩大地一直从年初持续到年末，《圆明园》、《大国崛起》等一系列片子，让角落中的纪录片找到了从未有过的繁华和自信。说纪录片兴起虽然有些为时尚早，但2006年的确是中国纪录片开始发轫的元年。 走大片路子：挺进影院 对于观众来说，吸引眼球的往往是奢华的场景和明星的绚丽，纪录片的沉默和无趣，显然提不起人们的热情，但自从央视播放了《故宫》后，改变了国人对纪录片的偏见，每集将近100万元人民币的投资，邀请了获奥斯卡最佳音乐奖的苏聪、曾获奥斯卡最佳摄影提名的摄影师赵小丁、日本著名摄影师赤平勉等大腕的加盟，让中国的纪录片也拥有了许多大片的“装备”。 如今，中国的纪录片面临着一个新的转型期—中国的纪录片人开始学着把娱乐化作为纪录片自救和救市的一条路径，并尝试再次把纪录片带进影院。于是在2006年，大投入、特技成为了中国纪录片的关键词，当《圆明园》与《夜宴》、《宝贝计划》同时登陆各地影院时，这本身就变成了一个新鲜事。 谁会花钱去看纪录片？这是个问题，但问题很快就有了答案，《圆明园》拿到500万的票房收入，这个数字对于被冷落多年的中国纪录片来说，却是一个振奋的突破。导演金铁木在接受采访时曾说，在影片的审查阶段，他听到最多的评价是“震撼”，而《圆明园》的拷贝达到1000余个，这在中国纪录片电影史上是第一次，他在拍摄之初完全没有想到过会有这样的成绩。与《华氏911》、《帝企鹅日记》等国外纪录片影响力相比，《圆明园》并不算是成功的，但它却成为中国纪录片进入产业化的第一部。而正是因为这部纪录片，让国人真正意识到，去看电影不仅仅是那些大片，还有纪录片这种选择，只是我们现在这种选择太少。 对于《圆明园》的突破，中国传媒大学艺术学博士后张新熠对此却有着另一种看法，他觉得影片中最大的卖点，是通过数字技术还原了很多当年圆明园的盛景，当这些以前只是靠想象的“奇观”，真实地复原在人们眼前，将许多对纪录片并没有兴趣的观众吸引到影院来。但他也不否认，《圆明园》在特效应用上，显然已经毫无争议地站在了国内纪录片创作的前沿，而且其重新拍摄、演员扮演配合旁白、独白穿插讲述历史的方式，也很容易让观众接受。 思考的视角：引来热议 自从20年前《话说长江》之后，能够引起全国关注的纪录片屈指可数，人们已经不太相信，一部纪录片还会激起国人思想的震撼，但《大国崛起》引发的争论和热议，甚至成为一个文化现象，这部片子为2006年中国的纪录片收了一个完美的结局。 该片的总策划之一麦天枢曾说：“从某种程度上说，《大国崛起》是关心中国改革的电视人在学术界的支持下完成的一次思考。” 对于这部纪录片的火爆，其实有许多客观原因，纪录片导演黄如则认为，我们向来比较重视自己的历史，但有意识地从他人历史中聆听教诲，却是我们几代人所缺失的，《大国崛起》为我们补了这一课，正因为如此，它才会在毫无炒作的前提下被大众接受。 据悉，根据调查公司的统计，《大国崛起》在播放时，平均每晚有200万户中国家庭在观看此片，对于中国纪录片而言，这个收视率绝对是前所未有的。与此同时，火爆的《大国崛起》也引发更为激烈的争议，直至今日，这场争论仍然在继续着，但不管怎么说，对于怎样崛起这个中华民族思考了百年的问题，《大国崛起》从纪录片独特的视角为我们提供了一个解答。 民间纪录片：依然小众 今年，贾樟柯凭借纪录片《东》入围今年威尼斯国际电影节地平线竞赛单元，他也因此成为第一位将纪录片，带入戛纳、柏林、威尼斯三大国际电影节官方竞赛单元的中国导演。国内纪录片的元老吴文光则另辟蹊径，开展了“村民影像”计划，在全国范围内选取10位农民，对他们进行简单的DV使用培训，让他们拍摄自己的村子。因为吴文光已不满足于自己的镜头，他要借用农民的记录来表达心声。 而对于更多的民间独立制片人，他们的关注点依然集中在细节个体上，虽然这些个体在当今的社会上显得过于渺小，但对于中国民间影像史料来说，却有着极为重要的意义。其中周浩的《高三》、杨弋枢的《浩然是谁》都引起人们对纪录片不同程度的关注，在这里面，舒浩仑的《乡愁》颇具代表性，这部片子记录了将要拆迁的上海静安区的一个家庭，将城市与个人的命运通过平实的镜头展现出来，该片也被喻为今年民间纪录片的经典之作。同时，很少引起纪录片界关注的深圳也带来了惊喜，高鸣的《排骨》让业内认识到，深圳并没有在国内纪录片中缺席。 综观今年的民间纪录片，尽管不断有新作品问世，但无论是题材还是形式上依然延续着以往的风格，缺乏故事性和娱乐性成为这些纪录片的通病。中国纪录片委员会副会长冷冶夫则认为，随着DV的应用，虽然中国纪录片的摄制水平有了很大的提高，但由于缺少资金和展播平台，民间纪录片进入公众的视野还有很漫长的路。 作者:晶报记者王圣/文 1/15/2007 遗失的美好--记纪录片导演舒浩仑和他的《乡愁》 来源: 《城市黄页》杂志上海创刊号，[记者] 陈奇琦 [发表时间] 2006-10-15
在上海这个纸醉金迷的都市中，人们都大步流星地奋力往前走，往前走，为的是，追赶上这个城市前进的步伐。在追逐的过程中，有的人，为了权利前途而澎湃；有的人，为了人情世故而烦忧，而有的人，却正为遗失的美好而痛心、而追忆…… 作为上海大学的一名教师以及中国新生代导演，在上海这座城市中出生成长的舒浩仑，在美国的浮生略影中吮吸异国空气两年之后，重又回到了这个生养长大的土地上来。 在每一秒钟都在发生变化的这个城市中，舒浩仑还来不及为它的繁荣成长而感到自豪，却已经发现逝去的童年缩影正在跟着推土机的步伐慢慢彻底消失，于是试图拼命地追逐逝去的美好。然而，他无力去改变和阻止这些变化，只有端起自己熟悉的摄影机，用特别的方式，来记录作为踩着石库门弄堂青石板一路走来的所有人，都挥之不去的“乡愁”。
承载生活的石库门记忆 电影《乡愁》，是一部关于上海的私人影像记忆，记录了一个将要拆迁的静安区石库门里弄大中里的当下和往昔，片中出现的人物都是和导演生活记忆息息相关的亲人和邻居，舒浩仑导演以平实的心态记录了作为宁波移民的祖孙三代在这个城市变迁过程里经历的一切。 拍摄《乡愁》这部记录片的最初冲动是2002年当听说自己出生的大中里被香港商人买下即将拆迁的消息，于是，舒浩仑决定用自己的方式——摄影机来记录这上海已经仅存不多的石库门里弄，以及生活在其中的人们的生活状态。2002年的夏天，舒浩仑耗费了两个月的时间，完成了90%的拍摄内容，当时的想法只是为了记录那些熟悉的片段。而当2005年从美国回到上海，面对不久就最终将面目全非的故乡，他输理着自己的情绪，寻找到了有力量的构结方式，用镜头里真实记录的片段，书写完成了这一曲乡愁。 当然，对于舒浩仑而言，他始终相信“石库门仅仅是个记忆的载体。”这个载体在北京是胡同、在福建是客家土楼、在广东可能是围龙屋，而对于上海而言，无疑就是石库门。每个城市都需要自己的载体来记录生活，但是，石库门的意义对舒浩仑而言不仅仅只是石料结构黑漆木门的上海传统民居建筑而已，“建筑是死的，是没有生气的。假如没有人居住在里面，也只是空城一座没有意义。 因而，舒浩仑用镜头所记录下来的，更多的是一种生活状态而非仅仅是建筑形式。而这种生活方式，却又是恰恰和居住的建筑结构相辅相成形成互动的。在舒浩仑看来，生活赋予了石库门建筑以历史感以及不一样的表面纹理，不管它是美丽、是班驳、还是裂痕。否则，再美的建筑也只是一堆水泥而已。 ..... 全文请见http://www.citytimes.cn/Zh/CityFocus/cityfocus_view.asp?id=177&sPage=1 面对“故土”的消失，我无法司空见惯日期：2006-12-07 作者：丁丽洁 来源：文学报 http://wenxue.news365.com.cn/2b/200612/t20061207_1206444.htm
——访纪录片《乡愁》导演舒浩仑 舒浩仑的纪录电影《乡愁》荣获第三届（2006）Reel China当代中国纪录片双年展的最佳纪录片奖
REEL CHINA当代中国纪录片双年展，是一个独立的纪录片影展。由纽约莱克基金会于2001年在纽约设立。这个纪录片展旨在把当代中国最优秀的纪录片推向世界，并促进海外对当代中国的了解与研究。 REEL CHINA 已分别于2001年和2004年举办了两届，并且在2004年时确立了两年一届双年展传统。与一般的展览不同，她是在几个不同的地区同时开展，首轮时间是10月-11月二个月，而后进入巡展，持续约一年。在第一、二届的REEL CHINA中，共有近50部优秀纪录片入选了展映。 第三届REEL CHINA 当代中国纪录片双年展於2006年10月-11月在美国纽约等地与中国上海举行，一批年青的新锐纪录片导演入围了本届影展。 同时，REEL CHINA已成为海外最大的当代中国纪录片展示中心，约百分之九十的最优秀的中国纪录片导演与REEL CHINA建立了联系，通过每两年一次的选片活动，REEL CHINA又不断发现与推出一批更年轻的新锐导演。 REEL CHINA 的视角触及了当代中国社会的方方面面，更是深入了人物的内心世界及人物的心路历程，这是任何文字文献的记载所不能比拟的。 要了解一个变化中的中国，本质上是了解她变化中的人。REEL CHINA的纪录片正是跟踪记录了变化中的不同阶层的人、环境及人际网络。这是社会细胞的一个个切片，是特定生存状态下的人性原貌。并为我们打开了一些封尘的故事…… 第三届REEL CHINA当代中国纪录片双年展，让我们欣喜地看到一批年轻的有才华的纪录片导演正在崛起，他（她）们出生于上世纪七、八十年代，与五、六十年代出生的纪录片人相比，他（她）们的社会经历与文化背景截然不同，这一届的不少纪录片让我们领略到他（她）们镜头中的社会万象。 《乡愁》的获奖评语: 第三届 （2006） REEL CHINA 当代中国纪录片双年展 —— 评委介绍 请参见 http://www.reelchina.net/award/03a.htm
纪录电影《乡愁》的海报 12/15/2006 NPR Report on Haolun Shu's Doucmentary NOSTALGIA: A Cinematic Ode to Shanghai's Vanishing world
美国全国公共广播电台(NPR)对纪录片《乡愁》的报道：一首关于逝去的上海的电影诗 这也是NPR的上海系列报道的之一，有兴趣的朋友也可以上他们的网站（http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=6610882)去收听系列中其他关于上海的报道，也是非常生动和优秀的报道。 It is also one of NPR's Shanghai series' sepecial reports,for more about Shanghai Series, please go to their website （http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=6610882). It's also an excellent series on Shanghai
Shanghai Builds for the Future A Cinematic Ode to Shanghai's Vanishing WorldBy Louisa Lim NPR report on Documentary's Nostalgia OR
and Download the report's original link from NPR website，本报道在NPR网站上的链接： （http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=6616570
Morning Edition, December 14, 2006 · Despite its population of almost 18 million, Shanghai only has 632 protected historic sites. Its distinctive traditional architecture is rapidly disappearing, and along with it, a way of life. The warren of alleys and the layout of traditional houses -- with their communal kitchens -- all created a unique sense of community. "There's such close contact between people, everyone helps each other," says local filmmaker Shu Haolun, 34. "This lifestyle is becoming more and more rare, and I miss that." Shu has produced an ode to this vanishing world. He starts his documentary, Nostalgia, with his reasons for making it: Soon, I'll only be able to see our alleyway in old photos, and in this film, he says. Walking around his old neighborhood is like stepping into his documentary. Neighbors exchange greetings and chat as they wash clothes in concrete basins in the alleyway. Imposing, carved-stone pillars and arches frame the tall, wood doorways of the gray, three-story buildings. The buildings are shabby, their facades patched and stained by the passage of history. And soon, this tight-knit community will be dispersed. In April, residents of this neighborhood, known as Dazhongli, received notice that their houses will be demolished. No one knows when, but everyone realizes it will be soon. Shu's film depicts an idyllic childhood, despite hardships. Eight families lived in his house; six people and a cat lived in his family's one room. But no one knew any other way of life, and there were countless playmates, and surrogate parents and grandparents. In Nostalgia, Shu charts the minutiae of growing up -- buying sweets in triangular packets from the local shop, being late for school, his first romance -- as his grandmother played a seemingly endless game of mahjong. During a recent visit, his grandmother's neighbors are using her house for mahjong. But she's in the hospital, recovering from a broken leg. Her neighbors view the future with sadness. "We don't want to move out, but several hundred households have already gone," says Cheng Yuxian, who has lived in the neighborhood for more than 40 years. But they will sign a compensation agreement in the end, laments Zhu Junbiao. They say that the developers aren't offering enough money by way of compensation -- not enough to buy a house, even in a suburb 25 miles from the city center where they now live. In his film, Shu's grandma recounts the story of another neighbor. After he moved out, his memory worsened and he couldn't remember the address of his new apartment in a high-rise tower. He often turned up on the doorstep of his old house, disoriented and confused. Filmmaker Shu says rapid urban development is creating a collective sense of loss. The places of our childhood "simply don't exist any more," Shu says. "They've become newly developed zones. It's not just a material loss, it's a spiritual loss. It's not just that we've lost our houses. We no longer feel that home exists." The transformation is so complete that Shu believes China is facing an identity crisis. "We talk about having 5,000 years of Chinese history, but wherever you go, you see demolition," he says. "There are construction sites everywhere. There isn't even 50 years of history left." Some are not ready to embrace that change. In the film, the self-appointed guardian of Shu's community was the street sweeper, who sat at the entrance to the alley for most of the day, watching life go by. It's a sign of the political sensitivity of demolishing an entire neighborhood that he's been replaced by policemen, sitting at the same spot, watching for unrest from those who were once so happy. .
Scene from 'Nostalgia': Mom-and-Pop Store Marks Passage of Time （http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ih9ghZhUN5U） another clip from "Nostalgia" （http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrIFzzwU4IM）
More About Filmmaker Haolun Shu (his e-mail: haolun@hotmail.com), please go to http://www.thatssh.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=549&Itemid=37&limit=1&limitstart=0 关于导演舒浩仑的详情，请参见http://haolunshu.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!B4B211DAFD50C87C!175.entry 关于美国全国公共电台（NPR）简介，请参见http://www.putclub.com/article.php?articleid=301 10/10/2006 《乡愁》北京首映和《挣扎〉的北京放映预告纪录片《乡愁》北京首映
片长70 分钟，中英文字幕 导演舒浩仑现场交流 主办单位：北京零频道/大众DV /《东方全纪录》栏目组（上海东方卫视）
合作单位：北京师范大学 [故事梗概] 现代化的城市的成长必然伴随着推土机的轰鸣，更多的大中里即将在这个城市记忆里消失，在这个冬天到来的时候你只能看见一堆瓦砾和行将走远的老人以及他们鲜活的历史，那么做个有心人吧，带着你的DV机以及你的慧眼，纪录这个城市，纪录属于你家族的民间史诗。 影片《乡愁》的详情请参阅 http://www.pop-photo.com.cn/ZiXunCenter/info.asp?id=983&MsgNClass=3&Classid=2 《挣扎》的北京放映 时间：10月14日 星期六 下午 1: 00 地点：宋庄美术馆开馆展之中国独立电影论坛 （宋庄美术馆的班车和公交车，自驾车指南） 《挣扎》导演 舒浩仑(2001，50 mins, 中英文字幕) 崔琪，傅旭林和肖红星是从内地来到深圳打工，来寻找机会和实现梦想。但他们找到的却是又苦又累的活外加一场飞来横祸-他们都在工伤事故中失去一个手，而他们仅仅是深圳地区一年就有上万起断手或断脚的工伤事故中的几起。不幸中的万幸，同样民工出生的律师周立太伸出了援助之手，把他们接到了自己的家（同时也是办公室）住下，帮助他们争取基本的人权和合理的赔偿。影片摄于2001年，也是当时第一部在全球化的背景下， 反映素有“世界工厂” 之称的珠三角地区的劳工们恶劣的工作条件，残酷的生存现实和美妙的人生梦想的纪录电影。
荣获荷兰扬*弗里曼基金会奖金
荣获瑞士海外发展与合作机构奖金
荣获瑞士第十六届弗里堡国际电影节最佳纪录电影奖
荷兰第十四届阿姆斯特丹国际纪录电影节正式参展片
瑞典第二十五届哥德堡电影节正式参展片
瑞士第十八届南北媒体节 正式参赛片 (该媒体节由联合国教科文组织- UNESCO参加举办)
2002年韩国釜山亚洲短片电影节正式参展片
2003年韩国汉城新世纪亚洲导演影展正式参展片
2005年德国柏林第五届全球化电影节正式参展片
2003年分别被澳大利亚昆士兰州立图书馆收藏,澳大利亚悉尼理工大学收藏；
和美国南伊利诺斯州大学电影与摄影系收藏。
在2002年四月期的DOX (该刊为国际权威纪录电影杂志, 同时也是欧洲纪录片协会的会刊), 登载关于对 “挣扎”一片的专业影评,并在欧洲的英、法、德、荷、意文的媒体有广泛的报道与评论.
“挣扎”已在荷兰的RVU全国电视网, 芬兰的YLE 全国电视网, 西班牙和葡萄牙的卫星电视网(Multi Canal)，西班牙全国电视网TVE等欧洲电视台播映。
Struggle,Shu Haolun ,导演和本片的主人公之一周立太律师到现场和观众交流，周律师长期致力于民工权益的维权事业，也会在现场和大家交流维权的最新情况。 另外，当天下午还将会放映李一凡/鄢雨的《淹没》
9/13/2006 《乡愁》：2006年9月份的《艺术世界》对导演舒浩仑的专访艺术世界》杂志社将于9月16日14：00-16：00在上海市多伦路27号上海多伦现代美术馆四楼放映厅举办12+DV影像展映. 评述/崔辰
纪录片《乡愁》: 石库门的私人影像故事
纪录片《乡愁》: 石库门的私人影像故事 文：小子，TIMEOUT SHANGHAI 2006.9
当得知自己小时候居住的“大中里”石库门里弄，将面临拆迁的命运，刚在美国获得艺术硕士学位的舒浩仑，重新回到了这里，用他的数码摄影机镜头对准了这个上海最有特色的石库门里弄，完成了自己的第二部纪录长片《乡愁》。文 小子 摄影 陆杰 余光中曾在他的诗作《乡愁》里说：“小时候，乡愁是一枚小小的邮票……”，对很多土生土长的上海人来说，如果要把这一枚小小的邮票形象化，那或许就是普通邮票第23组《中国民居》中的上海石库门图案。 “亭子间”、“客堂间”、“厢房”、“天井”……这些与石库门有关的名词，曾经是好几代上海人温馨的记忆，如今，却被一只只钢筋水泥筑成的怪手，逼压得无处遁逃。 2002年的夏天，当得知上海最有特色的石库门里弄之一，位于静安区石门路的大中里，也将面临被连根拔起的拆迁命运，刚在美国获得艺术硕士学位的舒浩仑，重新回到了这里，将他的数码摄影机镜头对准了这个承载着他无数美好记忆的石库门里弄，以《乡愁》为名，拍摄了自己的第二部纪录长片。 4年后的夏天，我在一个吹着强劲冷气的空调房里，看到了这部《乡愁》，随着画面的流淌，我感到浑身的血液开始加速流动，身体似乎渴望回到曾经没有空调、只有蒲扇的上海夏天，寻找到那种空气湿润、酣畅流汗的久违感觉。好像我手中的遥控器，开启的并不是一部正在我眼前放映的影片，而是扭动了时光隧道的按钮，飞快地把自己朝过去推。 这种感受，和舒浩伦曾在他blog里写下的文字如此相似：“当我看着影片里石库门温暖的红屋顶，镜头里朴素自然的奶奶和邻居，及那些黑白再现的片断，听着八十年代的流行音乐，我感觉仿佛又回到了那个飘着邻居家菜香的楼道，那个同学就是邻居的弄堂，那个听见铃声才跑去上课的中学，回到了那个还没有成为‘国际大都市’的上海，回到那个普通人家的小上海。” 这是一部凝结着舒浩伦私人记忆的影片，然而镜头中的弄堂生活，又何尝不是很多人的童年往事——你肯定不会忘记，揣着粮票到弄堂口香喷喷的早点摊买大饼油条，你也肯定记得，曾经搬着躺椅竹凳在乘凉时和很多人围着一台黑白电视机看球赛，还有那些依稀模糊、却依然鲜活生动的成长片断：你从弄堂口烟杂店买来的第一瓶酱油、你帮家人从粮油店搬回的第一袋新米、你第一次能够独自搬到三楼的一簸箕煤饼…… 还有很多平凡的生活元素，在上海的弄堂里，几十年都没有变过，就好像镜头中90多岁的舒奶奶，每天下午都会拿出放着30元钱的小布包，和楼上楼下的邻居凑一桌麻将；邻居老魏，一直乐于浇花种草，笑称“我每天跑步1万米，比那些每个月挣1万块钱的人还安逸”；60多岁的清洁工“阿跷”，每天起个大早，把弄堂打扫一新，然后就坐在对着垃圾箱的弄堂口，看人、晒太阳、等日落、回家吃饭。 几个月前，当《乡愁》在虹口图书馆进行第一场放映的时候，贾樟柯《世界》的制作人马宁提出《乡愁》真正锋利的东西不多，更像是一篇散文，而20年来一直致力于记录上海城市变迁的摄影家陆杰先生，也建议舒浩伦继续拍，拍到大锤砸落的那一刻。 舒浩伦坦言，“拍这部片子我特别纯粹，我特别着急地要把它拍下来，就怕大中里哪一天被‘房地产原子弹’真的摧毁了。” 在舒浩伦看来，这片子不仅仅是关于拆迁，更像一次最后的留念，一次“为了忘却的纪念”，最重要的，就是纪录即将消失的乡里、家人、族，对于这样一份对故乡的怀念，每个人似乎都有一种想去小心翼翼呵护的冲动：“虽然这部片子和拆迁有关，我不知道我是不是要批判，是不是要尖锐，如果真要拍‘大锤砸落’，我觉得太残忍了。” 我曾听舒浩伦说起，曾经有一位欧洲的影评人看了《乡愁》后，和他说，如果在欧洲有人拍“乡愁”主题的片子，那么这个导演的年纪肯定超过50岁，绝不会像你那样年轻。 面对这样的疑问，不由得让我想起了余华的《兄弟》：欧洲人400年的历史跨度，在中国，40年就已经走完。在这个“愁”字上，中国人似乎有种更敏感的早熟，就好像刘以达《晚节不保》中的歌词“笑一笑，已苍老”。 舒浩伦把他的纪录片定义为第一人称的纪录片——first peron 纪录片，虽然作为这部片子的导演、摄影，他端着摄影机的身影却始终贯穿在《乡愁》中，和奶奶用宁波话交谈、与偶遇的童年小伙伴打招呼，这些都被另一个摄影师记录在画面中。“我拍摄的人都是很熟的邻居，如果我还是像拍摄第一部纪录片《挣扎》时，一直躲在摄影机背后，那就太不真诚了，而且更重要的是，我也想为自己在大中里最后的影像里保留一个位置。” 大中里不久就会消失，若干年后，这部纪录片对他而言，或许就是一本最珍贵的活动相册。 尽管舒浩伦说他这次的拍摄其实并没有太多企图，但我们还是能够通过解说词的字里行间，体会到他对“国际化大都市”——这张上海名片的种种质疑和思考。在他看来，“新天地”虽然保留了石库门的外观，但并非是一个好样板，把文化和人都弄空，作为一个盆景，或者是一张供人消费的明信片，形在，神已经散了。 舒浩仑说：“我一直觉得亚洲国家的大发展进入了一个误区。我去雅加达参加电影节时都不想出宾馆，整个城市都交通堵塞，这已经不是现代化了，其实社会进步太快不是种好事情，需要回头审视，不要等故乡没有了再后悔。” 我曾和舒浩伦聊起他在《乡愁》中最喜欢的一个画面，那是一个穿越狭窄弄堂的主观镜头，人们洗菜、晒衣服、喝粥，甚至冲凉，仿佛一卷平凡无奇却又生气昂然的市井风情画。“石库门里人多，房间小，而弄堂，其实就是很多上海人的客厅，也正是有这样一个共同的客厅，石库门里的弄堂生活才会那么富用人情味。我们留恋的，并不只是一栋栋石库门房子，而是只有弄堂才能孕育出的生活方式。” 在影片最后的字幕上，舒浩伦把这部《乡愁》献给了让他怀念的80年代。他在影片中穿插了很多带有80年代气质的声音和画面：最早的《大世界》电视节目、《排球女将》主题歌、电影《W的悲剧》、操场大喇叭播放的《眼保护操》……听着这些熟悉的音乐，看着片中“真实再现”的黑白画面，我似乎也在亦真亦幻中，寻找自己当年的影子和那个“与人玩，不是与机器玩’的80年代。下一部就是准备工作早就展开了，是对伊文思的《愚公移山》的几集作重访，其中有一集还是拍摄我父亲曾工作了多年的《上海电机厂》作重访，这个项目牵涉面比较大，制作周期会很长。 《乡愁》放映活动 9月16日 14：00 上海多伦美术馆
都市中乡愁那微弱的叹息
南都周刊封面报道：上海引爆都市乡愁
记者 杭晓琳 实习生 周长天 上海报道
一幅最真实的上海民众世俗生活图景，
一段81年的历史，
一个混合了几代上海人爱与痛的产物。
它是上海的地标——石库门，
建于上世纪二三十年代的上海租界，中方和西方文化、传统与现代在此交汇融合；
它命运多舛，但亦如四合院、京剧和中国龙，成为中国传统文化的一部分。
2006年7月，上海最老的石库门里弄之一“大中里”正式开始动拆迁。
夏日午后的“大中里”静得出奇，两个中年男子夹着透明的公文袋疾步前行。他们穿着翻领T恤和西装裤，蹭亮的皮鞋反射着耀眼的日光，走在破落的石库门弄堂里，特别扎眼。
穿着汗衫短裤，躲在杂货店里聊天的俞伯斜眼看着他们经过，努努嘴，说：“都是动迁组的人，不知道又上谁家去了。”
“拆迁政策宣传到家，阳光拆迁…”的条幅高悬于空中，公共厨房的灶头上面钉着这样的字条：“这里有难舍的石库门情结，萦绕在我们每个人人的脑海里……这是一世难忘、永远难忘的地方！”一切迹象显示，这是一个将被动迁的小区。
它位于上海最高档的南京西路商业圈，地铁二号线石门一路站在附近经过，以近些年上海疯涨的房价来论，如此地段自是寸土寸金。与周围高耸的、现代化的大厦相比，低矮破旧的“大中里”显得有几分不协调。
但它是特殊的。始建于1925年的“大中里”，是目前上海市内保存最完整、规模最大的石库门里弄之一。生活在这片超过0.06平方公里土地上的1600多户居民，也一直保持着最原真的石库门生活状态。
动迁组的到来打破了“大中里”惯有的生活节奏，同样打破这里宁静的还有带着摄像机和照相机的异国人和外乡人。他们一头钻进弄堂，拍下了石库门上精美的雕花门楣，拍下了拥有七八个灶头的公共厨房，也拍下了穿着睡衣站在弄堂里高谈阔论的上海人。
“拍吧，拍吧，再不拍，以后都没了。”“大中里”的老太太们，漫无目的地指着身后连排的石库门。根据上海市静安区政府的动拆迁计划，“大中里”以后会被现代化的购物中心和写字楼取代。
“以后怕是要数着电线杆来找‘大中里’的位置喽。”朱伯站在“大中里”弄堂入口处，目测着从南边路口到“大中里”的位置，幽幽地说：“要是道路拓宽挪开了电线杆，‘大中里’就真的不见了，住了一辈子的地方连影子都不剩。”
旧式里弄的特色工种
清晨5点，天色微亮，酣睡一夜的人们尚在享受最后的安宁，寂静的弄堂里已然响起了一阵“唰唰”声。
是“大中里”的清洁工阿跷在打扫垃圾箱，他的出现，宣告了“大中里”开始新的一天。
阿跷本名袁德海，但除了唯一的大哥坚持称他“德海”，“大中里”人人叫他“阿跷”。出于尊老的传统观念，称呼一个右脚残疾的70岁老人“阿跷”，非常不礼貌，但阿跷从不介意这个称呼，因为他知道，“大中里”人人给他几分面子。这是上海旧式里弄的一个特点，称呼不能代表什么，对某个人的尊敬是靠时间积淀，并通过行动来体现的。
“我这活儿别人干不了。”阿跷话里透着了然于心的自豪。每天清晨，“大中里”的垃圾箱一片狼藉，石门一路沿街的小饭店趁着夜色将垃圾随意扔在那儿。阿跷要赶在人们起床前将垃圾箱打扫干净，用水冲净路面，随后锁上垃圾箱的门，只留下两个门洞用于居民丢垃圾。
与垃圾箱相邻的厕所，是“大中里”唯一的卫生设备。老式的里弄住宅没有抽水马桶，也没有几家合用的水厕，只有一个公厕，供所有住户倒马桶和痰盂。
阿跷锁上垃圾箱大门的同时，还得打开厕所里专供倒马桶的小隔间。这个隔间只在每天早晨6点至10点对外开放，“不能整天开着，人太多了，粪便倒多了要铺出来。”
做完这些，阿跷一天的工作才算真正开始。
他拿出晚上锁在隔间里的椅子，放在垃圾箱斜对面的石库门前，安静地坐着。他的工作是盯着垃圾箱和厕所，防止人们为了图方便将垃圾扔在外头，或是某些男人图省事儿、在小便池里大便。
阿跷要这样独自坐到晚上6点，风雨无阻。冬天里，他就裹着民政局领导视察时赠送的棉大衣；夏天日头毒，居委会给他一把伞，他就这么一整天地撑着，遮挡阳光。
现在“大中里”的年轻人，弄不清阿跷坐在那里做啥。就如出生和成长在“大中里”、后又出国留学的舒浩仑，他始终认为孑然一身的阿跷喜欢坐在那里看进进出出的人们，同时义务充当“大中里”的保安。2002年，留学归国的舒浩仑得知“大中里”要拆迁的消息，扛起摄像机拍下了一部关于“大中里”、关于石库门文化的人文纪录片，取名《乡愁》，阿跷是其中一个人物。
“一个月就两百块，还要受气挨打，外地人干不了。”阿跷说，因为扫得干净，他曾被调去上海电视台边上的青海路，本地人不愿意接替阿跷的活，居委会就找了个外地人。但没多久对方就不干了，因为“大中里”某些居民在乱倒垃圾时，气焰还很嚣张，看到陌生人值勤，不但不买账，有时还会起冲突。
“我坐在这里，‘大中里’的人都给我几分面子，住在这里的外地人看我年纪大，也会听我的。”于是阿跷又被调回来，继续充当垃圾箱和公共厕所的守望者。
大中里之晨
6点之后，安静的“大中里”顿像苏醒了一般，热闹起来。
这片石库门布局非常整齐，从空中俯视，分弄与主弄的排列像是一个横过来的“丰”字。解放前就搬来这里的老人说，这是英国人提高效率的方式，把弄堂造得笔直，治安人员一眼就能望到底。
说“大中里”是个中西合璧的“混血儿”并不为过。1925年，“大中里”所在的静安区是英租界，作为一个英国房地产商的开发项目，这片石库门里弄也因此拥有了西式风格的雕花门楣、联排别墅式的布局。英国开发商深谙中国人的居住习惯，于是每一栋石库门都是传统江南民居的翻版：天井、前后客堂、前后厢房、亭子间和晒台。
“从建筑角度讲，石库门堪称精华。”长期致力于古城保护的同济大学城市与规划学院教授阮仪三说，石库门既能体现西式住宅的规划理念，又保有中式民居的建筑风格，“从当时的居住条件来看，是非常舒服的。”
恐怕当时建造“大中里”的开发商，怎么也不会想到，那条在当时为了便于管理而造得笔直的主弄，早已演变成一条充满生活气息的社区马路。
主弄自北向南，依次排列着菜摊、鸡蛋摊、肉摊、水产摊，还有卖早点的。在他们面前来回穿梭的，是穿着睡衣、满脸倦容地端着痰盂走向公厕的女人，还有那些赶在上班前挑菜买肉的男人。
“永平爸，来碗小馄饨。”骑车的中年男子跳下车，冲着包馄饨的老伯喊。永平家的早点摊正好位于主弄的中点，摆了十多年，设备很简单：一张圆台面，六七把裹着破麻袋的靠背椅。
74岁的永平爸负责包馄饨和收钱，退休前在国营饭店做厨师的永平妈负责煮食。早点式样很简单，小馄饨和汤面，夏天再增加一款冷面。
舒浩仑拍《乡愁》时光顾过永平家的早点摊，但1972年出生的他更怀念小时候的那家国营早点摊。每天早晨，人们拿着茶缸排队买豆浆，穿着白色工作服的工作人员熟练做着上海人早点食谱中的“四大金刚”：大饼、油条、糍饭和豆浆。
那时的油条半两一根，为了方便人们买早点，上海特制了全国独一无二的“半两”粮票，以至于当时来沪的外地人，把这当成了上海人小气的一个例子。
等候小馄饨的中年男子招呼着身边过往行人，“阿婆，买菜啊。”“嗨，上班去啊，不吃早饭啊！”男子津津有味地在川流不息的人群中寻找熟人，毫不在意小馄饨何时端上桌。
直到身边食客越聚越多，男子的注意力才开始回到圆桌。“你们知道当时四季酒店后面那些房子，拆迁时每个人拿多少钱吗？”“听说是三十多万，我们这里就隔了一条街，凭什么少了十多万。”吃着面条的食客含混不清地回答。
自打动迁组进了“大中里”，拆迁、赔偿就成了早餐桌上不变的话题。安贫乐道的“大中里”像是突然面对一场灾难，对未来的不可知引发的惶恐从每日的早饭开始。这群本无足够经济能量购置新房改善居住条件的普通人，在面对搬迁时不得不考虑如何为自己寻一处安身之所。
围成圈吃早点的人热闹地议论着，像是一群志同道合的朋友，直到吃完起身、互道再见时，才发现根本叫不出对方的名字。
“永平爸，收钱。”食客将两元钱递给老伯，老伯伸手接过，塞进兜里，又用同一只手包起了馄饨。不过，在“大中里”没人会质问永平爸不讲卫生，哪怕是那些略有洁癖、端着自家饭碗来装小馄饨的人。
大中里3号：八户人家组成的大家庭
舒浩仑出生在“大中里”3号。推开3号的门，也便看到了几代人在石库门里的生活。
3号住着8户人家，每家都有自己的故事，也都知道另外7家的故事，因为这是一个夜不闭户、门户相连的天地。在石库门里，阻隔两个家庭的，往往不是墙而是门，似乎预示着石库门里的各家总有千丝万缕的联系。
8个家庭犹如大家庭中性格迥异的8位成员。二楼的虞家阿婆和舒家奶奶是这里的大家长，两位90多岁的老太太解放前就搬来此处，一起住了将近70年。2002年，报上登出“大中里”地块被香港集团收购的消息后，虞家阿婆伤心地对舒家奶奶说：“住了一辈子，要走了，要分开了。”
一年前，舒家奶奶不慎跌倒，住进医院；半年后，虞家阿婆也在屋里跌倒，住进医院没再出来。虞家阿婆唯一的外甥女沈云儿说，老太太已经神志不清，乡下亲戚来看望，她都不认得。像是有感应一般，也住在医院的老姐妹舒家奶奶，由于不活动也无人聊天，渐渐地也糊涂了。
翻找舒浩仑留下的影像资料，2002年的夏季，舒家和虞家每天各摆一桌麻将，36度的高温，照样4个人打牌8个人围观。牌局散后，学过会计的舒家奶奶会撕开老式的竖条信纸，记下输赢。每月、每半年以及年终时，舒家奶奶都会准时把记录输赢情况的信纸送给三楼黄家阿姨、隔壁卫伯和亭子间的朱伯。
两位大家长住院后，卫家成了3号的砥柱。70岁的卫伯住在这里近40年，“文革”时期舒家后厢房被抄时搬进来的。
因为和老太太们住得最近，卫伯更像长子的角色。自家烧了饭菜，会拨出一部分送给老太太；老太太上下楼舍不得开灯，卫伯总是气呼呼地开了灯问跌倒了怎么办；夏季里卫伯每天早晚拿着自来水浇灌门前那片亲手载种的植物，老太太们心疼水费，卫伯拍着胸脯说，每年6到8月，他一个人出两个人头的水费。“年纪那么大，又是独居，不照顾不行啊。”
舒家和虞家的钥匙现在都由卫家保管。两家的门依旧敞开着，像老太太们住院前一个样。但卫伯和老伴，没有了四年前的从容模样。
那时的卫伯，对着摄像机滔滔不绝地说“我每天跑一万米，人家每个月赚一万块，却未必有我那么开心”，嘴上粘了好些饭粒儿却毫无知觉，兴致勃勃地说着他的快乐经。
如今的卫伯，每天看报纸，了解国家有什么新政策，心里琢磨着如何把自家的难处告诉动迁组。“政府给的房子在桃浦九村，再过去两站就是南翔了。”南翔属于郊区，在上海老百姓的概念里，住在那儿像是被赶出了市区。
亭子间的朱伯像是大家庭中的老三，不管事，见了谁都乐呵呵。朱伯的老伴幻听，每当朱伯出门后，她总是听见所有人都在辱骂她，于是她也破口大骂，骂遍了3号里的每家每户。大家知道她有病，也便任由她骂，只在夏季午睡被吵得心烦时，小声抱怨两句。
但是朱伯一回来，她就安静了，还会笑呵呵地说：“当年3号里人可多了，到了晚上厨房就是停车场，排着好几辆自行车呢。”
楼下厢房里的潘家，像是大家庭中的老二，也曾是3号里最不合群的人家。“那时厨房里用煤球炉，为了那点放煤球的公共面积，和人家吵过。”潘家阿婆耳聋，与她交谈要贴着耳朵，她老伴整日里板着脸，不爱与人说话。
但拆迁的消息被确认后，潘家和大伙也渐渐搭起话来。“到底住了几十年，要分开了，有些舍不得。”
潘家的隔壁是邬家，1951年刚搬来时是八口人，如今只剩下永安叔一人守着父母留下的屋子。曾是短跑运动员的永安叔，年近六十看着却比四十岁的人都精神，没事总在3号的后门做出扣篮的姿势。
永安叔自称是“大中里”的半个户籍警，从1号到190号，他几乎都认识，只不过现在租房子的外地人多了，变动又快，他来不及认。
说起警察，3号里谁都记得汤老伯这个“人民警察”。同样是个绰号，这却是个充满敬意的称呼。
汤老伯每天一早搬把椅子坐在门口等天黑，但凡陌生人靠近3号，必定会问：“你找谁？去三楼？三楼人家姓什么？”他就这么替大家守着门，直到2000年，儿子好心接父母去新房子住。
儿子家在四楼，80多岁的汤老伯无法上下走动，和老伴关在屋里没多久便患上了痴呆症。但他还记得“大中里”，经常带着老伴打车回来，没钱付车费，邻居替他付了；舒家奶奶给他盛饭吃，他也说不清回来做啥。儿子接他回去，没多久，他又一个人打车来到“大中里”。
老伴去世后，汤老伯彻底痴呆了。女儿汤凤仙说，他忘了自己是谁，也忘了“大中里”3号。
汤家人去楼空，像是一个出走的家庭成员，空留怀念给剩下的7个成员。“如果他留在这里，兴许不会痴呆，这里有那么多人陪他说话。”三楼的黄家阿姨说。
黄家是3号里最年轻的成员，搬来不过12年。黄阿姨不爱和其他成员过于亲近，“走得近难免惹是非。”于是黄家在三楼辟了片小天地，自己接了煤气管，鲜少去楼下公共厨房做饭，但与其他成员都保持了良好的关系。
黄阿姨的女儿大学毕业刚满一年，如果不是母亲反对，她早已在外与人合租房子。黄家阿姨说：“她每天回来都问我动迁的情况，简直可以用渴望来形容她想搬走的心。”
已经无法算清黄家女儿是3号里的第几代人，她对没有抽水马桶的破落的石库门的厌恶，也许是石库门避不开的命运。
从鼎盛到没落
作为上海最老的石库门里弄之一，“大中里”有着81年的历史，隐藏着几代人的回忆。而只有那些上了年纪的人们，才最了解石库门曾经的胜景和沧桑。
舒家、虞家和邬家是3号最早的住户。1935年，舒浩仑的爷爷从宁波跑来上海，经老乡介绍在同孚路(现石门一路)上的四民银行工作，并用金条顶下了“大中里”3号二楼的前后厢房。在当时，这算是个体面的住处。
邬家也来自宁波，永安叔的父亲是美孚石油的中间代理商，看中“大中里”的治安好、宁波人又多，便卖掉淮海路上的房子，顶下“大中里”3号的一楼、亭子间和三楼。
“那时3号就住着3户人家，13个人。整个‘大中里’人口也不多，弄堂里看不到人，只有小汽车。”永安叔依稀记得当时的“大中里”很安宁。那时的石库门是上海高级职员的住所，“大中里”最北面的几栋房子曾是停车库，“大跃进”时才改做了住房。
住在160号的陆家阿公，曾在赫赫有名的永泰公司做经理，解放前的远东舰队总司令、解放后的陈毅市长夫人张茜都是这家丝绸制衣公司的常客。
陆家阿婆当时还和其他9个家庭主妇成立了标会，每人出5元，谁家有困难就能使用这笔钱，用完了每人再继续出5元。一直到“文革”开始，“大中里”面目全非，更多家庭搬进了3号，往昔的温文尔雅变成了锅碗瓢盆的喧闹。
“文革”结束后，3号里的人口达到了35人。原本都是宁波人的天地里突然拥入了浦东人和江苏人，曾经的高级职员和知识分子与产业工人一同吃喝拉撒。
那时3号里只有一个水龙头，供35个人用，有时排队等急了，大伙儿恨不得扒开水管自己接水。当时还是个孩子的舒浩仑无法体会成年人的不便和痛苦，他的记忆中充满了那个年代特有的美好。
“那时物质匮乏，一家的东西几家人一块用。”学生时代的舒浩仑爱上了做化学试验，卫家长子恰好在树脂厂工作，舒浩仑放学后总跑去卫家找各种化学品，然后躲上晒台欣赏各种化学反应。
特殊的新客
对“大中里”的上千户本地居民而言，几十年几代人培养出来的邻里之情，自非等闲。关起外面的大铁门，这里就是一个大家庭。也因此，当有外地人进入这个由老上海人组成的天地时，他们本能地会有排斥。
上世纪九十年代中期，上海人买卖房子的意识变得强烈，那些急于改善条件的人飞出了“大中里”，于是大量的空屋出租给了外地来沪务工者。他们多是附近小店的服务员，或是摆地摊的小贩。一场来自不同地域的文化冲突在“大中里”上演，这也是“大中里”最后一次的人口拆解和重组。
“治安差了，人口多又复杂，以前来个陌生人一眼就认出了，现在外地人进进出出，看到的都是生面孔。”永平妈说。
与永平家的早点摊相隔十米，还有一个小食摊，摊主是外地人陆师傅。在“大中里”，本地居民只光顾永平家，租住在此的外地人却只光顾陆师傅的摊。没人制定规则，大家却奇怪地保持这份默契。
陆师傅的食摊提供一日三餐，附近工地上的建筑工人和初来上海的拾荒者在这里凑份子吃饭。居无定所的拾荒者把“大中里”当成了庇护所，吃完饭后在长条凳上小睡，就好像是睡在自家床上那般安心。视他们为闯入者的“大中里”居民却内心窝着火，他们觉得，这些外来务工者的拥入降低了“大中里”的档次。
这份即便到了穷途末路都舍弃不掉的自诩高贵，从石库门建成之日起便深深烙下。
“大中里”5号的小罗来自江苏，与隔壁的王家阿婆做了两年的邻居。他们彼此间非常客气，进进出出必打招呼，一起做饭时也会研究某个菜式，比如炒土豆丝放白醋才不会糊，或是哪家超市的鸡蛋更便宜。但卫伯的老伴说，“再客气总还是有距离，不像住了几十年的老邻居那样知根知底。”卫伯的老伴没事总跑出来和王家阿婆聊天，看得多了，自然也明白了其中的奥妙。
12岁的小张不懂成年人之间复杂的感情和关系，他只是单纯地觉得，邻居对他好，就是欢迎他的到来。
“我爸在这里住了四年，如果不拆，住在这里蛮好的，隔壁阿婆对我也好。”坐在黄鱼车(即人力三轮车)上替父亲临时看西瓜的小张说，这里和南通老家差不多，像是一个村子，大家都熟悉。
但真正彼此接纳的也并非没有。“我们家隔壁曾住过一个来自江西的小姑娘，两户人家亲得像一家人。”小王是上海外国语学院的学生，住在“大中里”隔壁的“柏德里”，“我妈妈烧了好吃的会端去给她，她从江西回来也会带好吃的给我。”
“我妈一直让我向她学习。”每年那个小姑娘回江西时，小王的父母都会准备点年货，让她带回老家。小姑娘搬走时，小王全家还送了她一套床上用品。
随风而逝的石库门，解不开的乡愁
舒浩仑的儿时记忆与陆芸的儿时记忆完美地进行了时空对接。陆芸是陆家阿公的外孙女，得知“大中里”要拆的那一刻，外公愣了半晌，外婆眼里泛着泪光，从小在“大中里”长大的陆芸无意中发现了《乡愁》，于是决定买张碟给家人一个惊喜。
陆芸出生在1981年，在她的记忆里，上海同样发生了一次天翻地覆的变化。
上世纪八十年代的陆家是所有亲戚心目中的殿堂。每逢五一和国庆，住在浦东的亲戚带上土产赶到陆家住下，只为了观看节日里的游行，孩子们则一早搬着小板凳在晒台上抢座位，以便能更清楚地看到节日烟花。
陆家的优越感持续到了九十年代浦东开发的一刻。浦东地价陡增，亲戚们一夜暴富，做起了房产开发商，便绝少出现在“大中里”。有个亲戚过节探望陆家阿公时，忍不住说：“这房子太破了。”
“可我还是喜欢这里。”陆芸留恋“大中里”生活的厚重和质感。在日本公司工作的陆芸曾带一些五六十岁的日本朋友参观“大中里”，看到厨房里的灶头和屋里的马桶，他们兴奋不已地说：“我们也曾经那样生活过，真令人怀念。”
陈佳立和陆芸同年，出生在静安区另一处石库门群落——庙弄。八年前动迁后，庙弄原址上竖起了一座霸气的购物中心。陈佳立记得小时候和同伴跑去百乐门边乘凉，看着车来车往，如今新兴社区的孩子，只是在网络上构建一派虚拟的友谊世界。
舒浩仑想在“大中里”放映一次《乡愁》。他的乡愁，既来自于故乡“大中里”的消失，也是对石库门生活方式行将终结的悼念。毕竟，“大中里”呈现的是被光鲜外衣遮蔽了的最原汁原味的上海生活。石库门随风而逝，依附其上的上海历史和文化，也将凋零或消失。
“如果可能，我还要请些模特在弄堂里走秀，你不觉得，那个年代的石库门弄堂，就是T型台的雏形吗？”舒浩仑的记忆中，每逢夏日傍晚，乘凉的男人们赤膊睡在躺椅上一字排开，这时若有个穿着时髦的年轻女子走过，无数包含带着欲望和艳羡的眼光齐刷刷地射过来，年轻女子的步履变得更婀娜，哪怕她已被一些女性长辈唤做“小妖精”。
“每个阶层都能从石库门里找到自己的文化梦想，他的痛苦悲伤和他的记忆。”上海文学批评家朱大可，曾在一次关于“工人新村与石库门谁更能代表上海”的辩论中说，石库门具有更广泛的代表性。早期的资产阶级能在这里找到昔日的梦想，过去大杂院里的市民也能从这里找到曾经的记忆，尽管记忆里面充满了很多痛苦的东西。石库门是混合了上海人爱与痛的产物(注：工人新村是1951年上海市政府从苏联引进的，解决了上海三百万产业工人的住房困难。当时能住进“工人新村”的都是劳模和先进工作者。研究城市文化的学者把工人新村看作上海在一个大时代的缩影，是一种政治意识形态的空间化，并据此认为形成了上海人的一种性格：比较制度化，比较容易被管束)。
前两个月，北京前楼附近的胡同连片被铲，一群民间人士自发冲向胡同里拍照，每天与推土机比速度。舒浩仑发了封邮件给他们，“虽然大家怀念的实物不同，但本质是一样的，都是对过往传统的回忆和悼念。”
这种眷恋和怀念，不仅仅局限于北京人和上海人，甚至已经远远超越了胡同、石库门等有形建筑物。在广州媒体工作的刘先生曾经打算将年幼的女儿送回江西老家上学，他说，这是因为“那些看似经济发展滞后的地方，更加完整地保留了传统”。只是，这一想法终因妻子舍不下爱女而作罢。
刘先生说，只要想起老家的房子和土地，心里就有了底气，不像他曾接触过的一些上海朋友，当从小居住的老房子被推土机推倒后，一段活生生的记忆被连根拔起，人也显得浮躁。
老刘在欧洲看到那些保留了近两百年的破房子仍被使用着，明白这是人家城市化运动进行到一定程度后的觉醒，于是他做了一回有心人，购买新房时没有出售原来的住处，“我的女儿出生在那里，成长在那里，等她成年了，能去老房子找回忆。”
三毛曾说，少年的她每当看到世界地图上撒哈拉沙漠那一片赤黄的时候，心头总会泛起一种乡愁，于是终于有一天她背起行囊，哼着“不要问我从那里来，我的故乡在远方”，寻找着自己的精神家园。而近年来在全国兴起的读经运动、国学热和海外汉学热，抑或同样有迹可寻？
余光中的一首“乡愁”，曾经感动海峡两岸30余年，那是台胞甚至是海外华人共有的思乡之情。而多年之后，余光中才慢慢意识到，他的乡愁其实是对包括地理、历史和文化在内的整个中国的眷恋。
6月25日，《乡愁》在上海虹口区图书馆公映。那天下午，看完片子的人们走在街上，默默地将镜头对准了虹口区老街上的房子。
作为嘉宾出席放映活动的陆元敏是上海著名的影像记录者，曾出版过苏州河与石库门的影集。在拍下一张堆放着杂物的石库门屋子时，他说，很多年后，那些已经生活在宽敞整洁楼房里的人们，应该会被这张照片打动，进而引发对逝去岁月的缅怀。
(尊重上海旧式弄堂不喜点名道姓称呼邻居的特点，记者保留了文中人物在生活里的真实称谓，实习生俞慕佳对此文亦有贡献) A nostalgia for another time A nostalgia for another time
By Xu Wei 2006-08-16
 Do people truly worship these skyscrapers? I doubt it. Do the times really drive people to chase so-called 'fashion,' pursue so-called 'modernity' and love the neon lights at night? I really don't believe it." These are the questions that Shu Haolun, a Shanghai native who grew up in the city's rapidly disappearing longtang (lane) and shikumen (stone-gated) culture, poses in his latest 70-minute documentary film "Nostalgia." The film encourages people to reflect on what they have lost through their relentless pursuit of progress and development. Shu's shikumen house at "Da Zhong Li" (near the junction of Shimen Road and Weihai Road) will soon be demolished to make way for high-rise apartment blocks and hotels. The neighboring elementary school and the residential alley called "Yong Ye Li," all of which constituted Shu's childhood playground, have already been demolished. The first half of the film presents a poetic, exquisite and sentimental portrait of the director's old brick-and-stone home and the warren of streets around it. Much of the last quarter of the film is filmed at night. "Against the bright lights coming from the massive skyscrapers, Da Zhong Li looks even darker," Shu says. This section of the film poses the question of whether the strong tide of supposed modernization is really beneficial. "People have got used to the 'present continuous tense' for our era," says the 34-year-old, who studied on the Master of Fine Arts program in film production in Southern Illinois University in the United States. "It is a dangerous sign as people have little time to mull over their past and future." The film has many simple but touching instances that will arouse viewers' memories of their own childhood and their own old houses. The film made a small-scale screening at Hongkou District Library in June. Shu notes that the original purpose behind making the documentary was only to record the ordinary lives of the people living in the Da Zhong Li. "In 2002, I came back from the US for a summer break just as the local government announced that our area was slated for imminent demolition," Shu admits he won't be able to stop the cranes but he is able to "record" his nostalgia through his camera lens. The film was shot during the last two months of that summer but it was not until 2005 that Shu got his inspiration for how he would edit his film. Shu's family moved to Da Zhong Li from the countryside in 1935. The film recounts those moments that Shu spent with his family and it also tells the stories of his neighbors, some of whom have lived in the shikumen alley for nearly 70 years. Grandma Yu cooks wonderfully and she loves to share her delicious dishes with the community, including Shu's 90-something grandmother. Playing mahjong is the daily entertainment for Shu's old grandmother, but she has strict bookkeeping habits and only spares 30 yuan (US$3.75) each day for her mahjong games. Mr Wei is a retired worker who now has many colorful activities that include jogging, playing chess, swimming and cultivating flowers. "Even the President can't match up to me," Wei says playfully in the documentary. "He has more things to worry about. You know, the easy life is the lucky life." "Nostalgia" shows people wandering in and out of each other's homes, no front doors are locked. "Tiptoe," the best-known face in the Da Zhong Li, has swept the various alleys since 1959. He knows all the residents and when he finds some suspicious people, he questions them. But only through shooting his film has Shu found out Tiptoe's real name: Yuan Dehai. For decades, the neighborhood grocer hasn't changed. Shu recalls that kids would know they were grown-up when they were asked to go and buy soy sauce or rice wine. Soaked into this film are Shu's deep emotions for the land, houses and people. Additionally, people will find the fashions and flavors from two decades ago, including the popular TV drama "Volleyball Girls" shown on the black-and-white TV sets of the time and even the popular old songs. Different from documentary director Zhou Hongbo's "Lotus Ferry," which is a portrait of the old houses and people in the Dongjiadu area, Shu reproduces authentic scenes from his childhood. These include his wandering on the roofs and watching films overnight at the theater. "Zhou, a good friend of mine, came to Shanghai several years ago," Shu notes. "He is more like an observer. His picture shows the Shanghai life through the eyes of people from outside Shanghai. I grew up here, I am an insider. That might explain why our works have such a different feel." To his surprise, the film has raised heated discussions on Shu's personal blog and in Internet communities. Additionally, it has also encouraged other people to employ their cameras to record their own old houses. Lu Yun, whose grandparents have lived in Da Zhong Li for more than 60 years, was also deeply moved by Shu's documentary. She said her old grandparents were forcing back their tears when they learned that their houses would soon be torn down. "'Nostalgia' reminds me of a lot of beautiful moments from when I was young," Lu says. "Now I want to record the stories and people around me just like Shu. That would be the best gift for the old residents of the alley." Shu worries that demolishing the old houses and moving the residents may be particularly bad for the old people who for years have had close relations with each other. "What we need is a human-friendly modernization," he says. "Building skyscrapers, elevated highways or fashion hubs is not the whole story. I hope people, while pursuing dramatic progress, can spare the time to reflect on their past and ask themselves where they are from." Netizen "Fleeting Light" echoes these sentiments on Shu's blog: "Being a Shanghai native, I have very fond memories of Shanghai's 'shikumen' and old longtang. New, in my eyes, does not always mean good or even better." Now Shu is working on his next project "A Letter to Ivens," revisiting 1970s China. He is also teaching film art at Shanghai University. "Nostalgia" will be screened again at 2pm on September 16 at Shanghai Duolun Museum of Modern Art. Shu is now working on the release of a DVD version of "Nostalgia." Soon the DVD, with both English and Chinese subtitles, will be available. Those interested, log onto Shu's blog at http://haolunshu.spaces.msn.com 9/12/2006 Childhood in the shikumenFilm-maker Shu Haolun recaptures his vivid memories of life in the now vanishing traditional homes of Shanghai Xu Jitao Shanghai_Delta
page04 2006-8-11 http://www.shanghai-delta.com.cn/Shanghai_Delta/Shanghai_Delta_news.asp?lv1=1&lv2=4&newsid=1602&viewsid=1602&views=30 Shikumen ("stone gate") was the most popular building style in Shanghai in the past. This special architectural form of residence, which exists only in Shanghai, embodies the lives of most ordinary people. But now the number of shikumen is decreasing because of urban reconstruction projects sponsored by the municipal government. A young film-maker named Shu Haolun, however, is trying to capture this city's vanishing landscape through his camera. His documentary, "Nostalgia," which is his first attempt at preserving the fading memories about Shikumen, was released in June in Shanghai. Shu was brought up in Dazhongli, a typical shikumen residential area located in Jing'an District, and one of the oldest in Shanghai. In the 1920s, Shu's grandfather left Ningbo and came to Shanghai to work in a bank. According to Shu, his grandfather spent a large amount of money to buy houses located at No.3 Dazhongli. Shu's family has now been here for more than 70 years. Shu was born here and his grandmother still lives in this kind of house. The documentary is like a personal memoir for Shu. The old photos of the family, his former neighbours, the movies and TV series he watched in his childhood, the old songs he sang when he was still a boy, the girl he once loved - these nostalgic vignettes and more of the director's youthful memories were interspersed throughout the film. "It was the summer of 2002. When I returned from the US to Shanghai, I was told that my family's house would be dismantled. It meant that my grandmother would have to leave the house where she had lived for over 70 years. It also meant that my memories about my childhood would be erased. I decided to use my camera to keep my memories," Shu said. He finished most of the documentary that summer. In the film, he talked with his grandmother and neighbours about his family, unveiling his vague memories about his childhood and the history of his family. Asked why he shot the documentary, Shu said: "I always feel that old houses and the history about these old houses are weak and vulnerable when they are confronted with bulldozers - a symbol of modernization. At first, when I started to shoot the film, I just wanted to make a personal photo album - an album about my personal memories," he said. The lost lifestyle "In 2005, suddenly I understood how to deal with the film I previously shot," he added. It had been two years after he got his diploma in film studies in Southern Illinois University. He visited several shikumen areas around his family's old houses. Most houses in those areas had been dismantled, along with the traditional lifestyles. "In my point of view, life in the shikumen reflect the real lives of the people who live in Shanghai. People who lived in those areas did not have many desires. They were satisfied with every little thing they received. They were also friendly to all people who lived around them. Lives were rather like peaceful and slow songs for them. But because of the urban reconstruction projects, this kind of lifestyle has vanished. Dazhongli, where my grandmother lives, maybe is the last place for people to find such a lifestyle," he said. "In Dazhongli, it's rare for people to hear the sound of mobile phones. Most residents in this area are elderly now. The most common sound is that of residents playing mah-jong. It was the main entertainment for seniors to kill time and to spend the rest of their lives," Shu added. He also found many video and sound clips of old TV series and old songs for his documentary. Shu hopes these clips will arouse similar childhood memories for all people born in the 1970s. "One of my assistants cried when he helped me to finish the documentary - he was touched by some old songs and some video clips in the documentary, and the music and the video clips closely connected with his childhood," he said. According to Shu, a documentary of this type is an attempt to regain what people lost in modernization and urbanization. But, he said, he is not against modernization. "I admit that to live in the shikumen is inconvenient for most people - they have to share bathrooms and kitchens with others. They have to live in narrow spaces for many years. But we have to understand that such inconvenience helps many people become very hospitable and warm-hearted. For the elderly, to live in such areas helps keep them from becoming lonely." For now, Dazhongli still stands among the skyscrapers. But Shu worries that along with old lifestyles, these houses will be "swallowed by the concrete monsters around them" sooner or later. A movie making career Many overseas critics and media, including Reuters and CNN, have shown great interest in Shu's film. It's not his first taste of international fame. In 2001, when he was still a post-graduate at Southern Illinois University, he finished his first documentary, "Struggle," about a lawyer who fought to relieve the plight of migrant workers living in Shenzhen. Shu won the prize for best documentary at 16th Fribourg International Film Festival. "`Struggle' was my graduation project. At first I planned to shoot a film about a fictional story, but my supervisors were not satisfied with my ideas. I was a bit frustrated with that. At last, I spent two months to finish `Struggle'. Unexpectedly, everyone was satisfied with my work," Shu recalled. A graduate from the engineering and machinery department at the University of Shanghai of Science and Technology, Shu was not expected to become a filmmaker and a director. "When I was a university student, I loved to watch movies. There was a large movie library in my university. I often went to the library to watch movies," he said. "There was an art film cinema not far away from my university. I also went to that cinema to watch movies." After Shu graduated from university, like most of his classmates, he became an IT engineer. "But after I started to work, I found that I had always dreamed of becoming a film director," Shu added. Four years after he graduated from University of Shanghai Science and Technology, Shu decided to quit his job and to pursue his dream of becoming a film director. In 1998, he went to the United States to study. "Before I received the visa to the US, I had been rejected twice. It was the last time for me to apply for a visa. I told myself that if I failed again, I would give up. But fortunately, I received the visa - and after that day, my life totally changed," he said. It was not an easy decision for Shu to quit his job before he went to the United States. He had an attractive salary and chances of promotion. "But I understood that I made a correct decision after I went to the US. What benefits me most is what I learnt in the United States - it wasn't any subjects, it was questions that I often asked myself: Is this the life you really want?" he said. Now Shu is a teacher at the School of Film and Television Art and Technology at Shanghai University. He is preparing for his next project, "A Letter From China." He plans to travel to the place where famous documentary director Joris Ivens had been and re-shoot a documentary about the places in Ivens' masterpiece, "How Yukong Moved the Mountains," which was shot in 1976 in China. Film-maker laments loss of historical Xu Jitao China Daily's Shanghai_Delta page02 2006-8-8 http://www.shanghai-delta.com.cn/Shanghai_Delta/Shanghai_Delta_news.asp?lv1=1&lv2=3&newsid=1564&viewsid=1564&views=1
 Behind the tall building around the corner from Weihai Road, an ancient-style castle is hidden from view. Few know when it was built, and now, ivy has covered the whole structure. With its finely carved stonework and arched colonnades, this old building still possesses all the majesty of the Middle Ages. Today, it is the location of the Minli Middle School, but 80 years ago, it was the home of tigers, snakes and crocodiles. The owner of the castle was Qiu Bei-shan, whose ancestors once lived as fisherfolk on Weishan Lake in East China's Shandong Province. His remote ancestors were said to be heroes in the style of a Chinese Robin Hood - warriors at Liangshan Mountain in the Song Dynasty (960-1279). At the end of the 19th century, the poor life they were living compelled Qiu Beishan and his brother Qiu Weiqing to leave their hometown. They found work in a German paint factory in Shanghai just as World War I broke out. The German boss decided to return home and he sold the paint stock piled in the factory to the Qiu brothers at a very low price. The war completely disrupted all trade by sea and overnight the price of paint skyrocketed - they became wealthy men. With the profits they made during the war the two brothers built their castle and set up their own paint factory which they called, Guang Da Yuan. They also bought 10 mu (6,670 square metres) of land on which they built two residences for themselves. One was demolished after the founding of New China in 1949. In spite of the wealthy urban life they were now living in Shanghai, they still missed the old days when they lived among lakes and mountains. So, by the early 1930s, they were keeping tigers, snakes and scaly anteaters in the garden. Next, they built a large pond and stocked it with crocodiles. On the bank of the pond was a huge enclosure for 2,000 pigeons. Every morning when the pigeons were released, it was said they covered the sky over Weihai Road. In the 1940s, the Qiu family rented their house to the Minli Middle School as a schoolhouse and the animals had to be sold or sent away. But the fate of the 2,000 pigeons was the most pitiful - most became dinner for the hungry Shanghainese of the war years. In 2002, HKR International Ltd bought the area around the building with 1.31 billion yuan (US9.76 million). According to the company's original plan, all the buildings around this castle would be dismantled and a business area like Xintiandi would be set up there. Many people, especially local residents worried that the old mansion would be demolished. Fortunately, although some old shikumen houses around the building have been dismantled, the mansion has been listed for urban conservation by the municipal government. Recently, Shanghai film-maker Shu Haolun shot a documentary about the buildings around this castle. In his documentary, the building is a landmark for most residents who had lived in that area for many years - most people who lived in this area graduated from Minli Middle School. The director shows his anger at the Hong Kong company's plan - he does not believe that most Shanghai residents would benefit from another Xintiandi. On the contrary, he believes that most residents would be hurt because their memories of the old days would be erased along with the buildings. He protested that although the castle will be preserved, it would not be as attractive as before because "the soul of the building - people who have lived in it and their lifestyles - has already gone." Now the castle and the buildings around it are rather like "dead bodies without spirits," he said. 8/26/2006 Passionate Eye: Shanghai documentary filmmaker Shu HaolunPassionate Eye: Shanghai documentary filmmaker Shu Haolun
Written by Thomas Podvin
That’s Shanghai, August 2006 issue
I had arranged to interview Shu Haolun, an independent documentary filmmaker and teacher at the Shanghai University Film and Television School, following the June premier of his second directorial effort, Nostalgia, at the Shanghai Film Library in Hongkou District. However, after the screening and a heated Q&A session with the audience, Shu, a graduate of Southern Illinois University, was far too agitated to answer any more questions, especially questions posed in English.
Instead, we arranged to meet the next day, and though the temperature was fiery, Shu appeared composed. Needless to say, appearances are deceiving. In short time, the 34 year-old filmmaker revealed himself as a man of passion, one who relies on his gut instincts. Indeed, Shu is as intense as the summer’s heat, though his energies are filtered through the camera lens. Which is to say he shines a bright light on selective subjects: his family, the city in which he was born, China’s rapid development and its effect on ordinary Chinese people.
While that may seem a rather broad spectrum, it’s not. Shu’s brand of non-fiction filmmaking is highly personal. Nostalgia puts his family center stage, along with his own memories of growing up in a neighborhood of shikumen (stone-gate houses), one that has been slotted for demolition. Though Shu’s documentary is highly subjective (in one scene he recalls a childhood sweetheart), his sense of nostalgia, indeed his memories of Da Zhongli, an area of 7,000 residents in the Jing’an district, is one that has universal appeal, grounded, as it is, in humanist principles.
As mentioned above, Shu is passionate, but he is also compassionate. A trait that is evident in his directorial debut, Struggle (2001), a film that concerns three migrant workers who lost their hands while working in one of Shenzhen’s sweatshops, and their struggle, aided by lawyer Zhou Litai, for a better life, fundamental rights and justice. While in production, Shu became intimate with the workers and their lawyer, and as a result, Struggle is more than just an exposé; it expresses an undeniable sympathy with the suffering (and the struggle for human dignity) of its subjects.
For his next project, Shu will revisit territory covered in an earlier work, How Yukong Moved the Mountain, a 12 episode, 763 minute documentary on the “cultural revolution” by the late Dutch documentary filmmaker Joris Ivens (1898-1989). Entitled A Letter to Ivens – a revisit to Yukong, Shu’s version will once again center on the experiences of his family, childhood and his hometown.
that’s: Why did you chose to study filmmaking in the US?
Shu Haolun: At the time [mid-1990s], the only film school [in China] was the Beijing Film Academy (BFA). It was quite a closed system; you had to be extremely smart and to perform very well in the entrance examination to [gain admission]. Or you needed to have the right connections. I failed the entrance exam [and wasn’t connected]. So it seemed impossible for me to enter the BFA, which had a superior air because of its monopoly, as if it were the kingdom of filmmaking in the Middle Kingdom. So I studied English and went to the USA. I wanted to see other parts of the world, and I think I’ve made the right choice.
that’s: What inspired you to make documentaries?
SH: Back in 1998, I was studying at the Southern Illinois University [SIU]. My university advisor signed me up for the documentary classes. I had already missed the orientation week because I was late due to some visa issues and didn’t know what the classes were about. One of them was about documentary history, from the late 1960s to late 1990s.
In China, we weren’t much exposed to documentaries. The films I was watching in the US were very different, like Chris Marker’s La Jetée (1962) and Alain Resnais’ Night and Fog (1955). Later on, I saw a documentary that blew my mind, Barbara Kopple’s American Dream (1990). It was about a workers’ union at a meat factory. It wasn’t done in the style of 1960s Cinéma Vérité, but it was a very powerful work, maybe one of the most powerful non-fiction films [I’ve seen].
that’s: Why did you return to China?
SH: At SIU, we had to make a film as an assigned project. At the time, I wanted to make a fictional film. But I couldn’t get approval from the teachers’ committee, who wanted a more realist story. That upset me, so I came back to China to make films.
that’s: How did you choose Struggle as your first project?
SH: The story is fascinating; there’s no question about it. I think the human aspect of the film is also very strong. One of the migrant workers, Xiao Hongxing, is from Hubei Province; his family couldn’t support his studies, so he went to a technical school instead of college and got a technical degree. Later, he went to Shenzhen [as a migrant worker], and unfortunately suffered an industrial accident that left him crippled. The story of Xiao and the other workers is shocking.
Although we live in different worlds and have almost nothing in common, besides nationality and language, I felt we were connected. In the beginning, they called me ‘journalist Shu’. I am not a journalist, but they basically thought that anyone with a camera was a journalist. But gradually I won their confidence, and they told me their story. After they knew me better, they called me Xiao Shu, or ‘Little Shu’. And these victims from the newspapers became human beings to me. We developed a personal bond.
that’s: You had European funding for this project.
SH: I applied for, and received, funding from the Netherlands’ Jan Vrijman Fund, and from the Swiss Agency. So I was well funded for my very first project, which surprised my US professors. Back in China I started to work on topics I really liked. And this time, no one said the subject wasn’t realistic enough. Later Struggle was screened at many festivals around the world and won the Best Documentary Award at the Fribourg International Film Festival (Switzerland).
that’s: Let’s talk about Nostalgia and your motives in keeping memories of an old Shanghai neighborhood alive.
SH: In 2002, as I was finishing my studies in the US, I learned that the place where I’d always lived in Shanghai, the neighborhood of Da Zhongli, was sold to a Hong Kong real estate developer who planned to build skyscrapers in place of the existing shikumen.
Da Zhongli is our family home, the place my family has always lived. I was worried that if I didn’t film it then, the opportunity would be lost forever. Another source of inspiration was a series of essays in the Shanghai Literature magazine entitled My City Map, which described the writers’ favorite places in Shanghai, be it their birthplaces or where they grew up. Nostalgia was my own My City Map but in the form of a documentary film. This project was personal; I really wanted to do something for my home and my family.
that’s: You might have named your documentary My Home, rather than Nostalgia.
SH: Not exactly, because I miss my home and the 1980s. I miss that particular place and time, which are mixed together; it’s not possible for me to separate them. I also show [in Nostalgia] my personal experiences when I was a teenager.
that’s: Both Struggle and Nostalgia examine some of the negative effects of rapid modernization. Does that mean you are a conservative?
SH: No, I think everybody likes modernization. Nobody wants to live in a cave like during the Stone Age. However, modernization shouldn’t mean unhealthy development.
A while ago I went to Jakarta, Indonesia, but I wasn’t able to see much. The traffic was so packed that if I wanted to go anywhere it would have taken at least two hours. Yes, there are super highways across the city, but the city is not designed on a human scale. You can also see a lot of foreign cars and banks and international brands – it’s like anywhere else in the US. I am afraid that might happen in Shanghai. Modernization isn’t about how many skyscrapers and highways a city has. It’s about how we can share wealth and how everybody can enjoy it. In other words, if modernization is about money it’s wrong; if it’s about people it’s right.
that’s: What about your next project, A Letter to Ivens?
SH: This documentary, currently in development, is about Joris Ivens, who in the early 1970s was invited by then Prime Minister Zhou [Enlai] to make a film about almost every aspect of the “cultural revolution” [in How Yukong Moved the Mountain (1971-1977)]. It ran to 12 episodes, but I will only revisit three. One of them is about a factory in Shanghai that produces generators, a typical Soviet-style factory where they have everything (a school, hospital, dormitories), and where my father worked for decades until he retired. I’ve a personal connection with this place; I used to go to the swimming pool there when I was young. The second episode’s about a [local] pharmacy, which is more representative of a small working environment, while the third episode is about the Da Qing oil fields.
that’s: Is this project a comment on Ivens’ documentary?
SH: The whole project is about how Ivens portrayed the events of that period. I am not interested in whether his work is true or not; my angle is to shoot discussions with common people who experienced that time. Currently, I’m negotiating the rights for footage from Ivens’ film – my concept is to reunite past and present images. For more information see Shu Haolunís homepage: http://spaces.msn.com/haolunshui 没有冲突，只有愁绪2006年07月06日出版的外滩画报电影版上的《乡愁》影评
没有冲突，只有愁绪
与其说《乡愁》是一部人文纪录片，不如说它是导演的一段温情岁月的回忆，这也许能解释为什么该片取这么一个极具私人感的名字。
文/ 庄清湄 导演舒浩仑是土生土长的上海人，从出生到高中毕业，一直都住在上海静安区的大中里石库门里。即便是受了高等教育，
出国遛了一圈，也还是无法割舍对石库门的依恋。所以，当他听说政府要把大中里拆掉以后，“再也不能坐视不理了”， 拿起手中的摄像机拍下曾经的生活痕迹。 与其说《乡愁》是一部人文纪录片，不如说它是导演的一段温情岁月的回忆，这也许能解释为什么该片取这么一个极具私人感的名字。在这部所有情节都围绕着舒浩仑个人展开的纪录片里，我们可以看到他在搓麻将的奶奶身边酣然入睡，上课时托腮惘然向窗外张望; 和青梅竹马的小妍手牵手买大饼油条，和名落孙山的雯雯在夏日的阳台上分一个青苹果; 日本电影里含蓄的女人脱衣镜头，第一次引发了他对性的感性认识..一切都是导演个人的体验，却人人看来都似曾相识。当脉脉温情时刻都有可能被一阵轰隆的机器声夷为平地的时候，《乡愁》的意义才显示出来。
有人建议舒浩仑将《乡愁》继续拍下去，直到刻有“大中里”三个字的弄堂大门被彻底推倒为止。这对曾经在石库门居住过的人都是一
件非常残忍的事，却不是舒浩仑能像控制摄像机镜头一样控制的。对于大中里的未来，舒浩仑也和别人一样不知所措，或许它会变成像新天地一样的城市明信片，或许它将被环绕在四周的钢筋水泥吞噬.. 7/31/2006 上海：流落在影像里-《上海采风》杂志（2006.8）对《乡愁》和我最崇敬的大师陆元敏的报道
“实际上，并不存在一个统一的过去的上海形象。它只是一系列已然逝去的上海影像的综合体，一如今日上海的形象。影像，当然指的不仅仅是事物的外观，它同时指涉事物的深度，这个深度由不同的侧面所构成，它用浮光掠影来形容十分恰切。影像，同时也是一种心理倾向，一种对旧时代的召唤的响应。”——孙甘露 影像上海 ——还给上海一段真实记忆的人 文/《上海采风》记者 胡凌 上海，究竟是什么样子的？这是一个不仅让外乡人迷惑，同样也让土生土长的上海人或生活了几十年的新上海人说不清道不明的问题。岁月如沙，在指逢间流走，悄无声息，上海被卷入了时间的飞轮，日新月异，熟悉的东西瞬间被置换了面孔或销声匿迹，记忆没有了寄存之地，于是，人们恐慌了。许多人开始回忆上海，寻找上海，记录上海，他们焦急地企图在时间的流水中捞起一些上海的旧影。“新天地”、“百乐门”一个个成为上海的新景点，十里洋场、轻曼的歌舞、妩媚的歌妓、浮华的风花雪月，充斥着上海的旧梦。影片、海报、文字似乎都宣扬着一种企图：尽力地抹去十九世纪上海在英文中的那层污秽意思，用海派的优雅粉饰出上海流光异彩的影像。 那么这就是上海吗？繁华雍容，霓虹闪烁，让人羡慕、让人自豪、让人顶礼膜拜。无可厚非，这些是上海影像的重要标志，但不是全部。灯红酒绿、纸醉金迷，不过是少数富贵人家奢华的过去，已停滞在时空里，而千百万普通小市民生活的平凡与琐碎却是代代延承，一如既往。王安忆说过：“上海，所有的印象都是和荒芜的个人生活掺和在一起，就这样，它就几乎带有隐私的意味。”也许，上海的真实影像更应该存在于“荒芜的个人生活”中，沉淀在无数人的回忆之中。遗憾的是，琐碎与细枝末节太容易让人忽略，让人熟视无睹。幸好有人记录下了，弥补了上海一段真实的记忆。
陆元敏： 黑白相片中的缅怀（小标题） 在上海的某个街头拐角，如果看到一位衣着朴素年过半百的人，拿着一个简易的照相机，似乎在不经意地抓拍路上的行人，你的脑中应该不会立刻蹦出“摄影家”这个词组，更不会附带上“上海”“著名”这两个修饰词。 摄影家，不就是那些脖子上挂着感觉很昂贵的照相机，背着大包，或者拖着一个装有很多设备的大箱子，感觉很有艺术家味道的人吗？ 陆元敏不是，三十年来他一直用着简易的相机，在上海的街头小巷拍摄着人物风情。他坚持用仿佛过时的黑白胶卷，秉持着那些记忆的元素。上海摄影家协会常务理事，中国摄影家协会会员，获过国内外大奖。 从1993年以来，许多作品多次参加国内外摄影展，2001、2002、2003分别出版了《苏州河》、《中国摄影家》、《上海人》。成为拍摄上海的标志性人物，陆元敏三十年里该付出多少的艰辛。 于是在采访过程中，我特地问了他几个数据，诸如：“一共拍了多少胶卷？”“三十年来用坏过多少台照相机？”以此来显示他对于摄影的热爱与执着，他却回答“我‘档案’工作做得很差。”“我至今没有拍坏过相机。”“我很少会特地出去寻找素材。”“我不会为拍照而‘挺难走险’。” 陆元敏说，1976年他就开始拍照，但那时很懵懂，老是参照着别人获奖的作品，试图在技巧上有所进步，就这么摸索着。直到1990年，才真正明白要拍什么，就是自己的生活环境和身边熟悉的人。接下去的二三年，他着重拍了苏州河和上海人。 “我不会很刻意地去拍照。我大部分的摄影作品都是在下班的路途中拍的。以前骑自行车上下班，苏州河是必经之路，现在搬了家，每天要坐公交车，就在车上摆弄一下相机。”有一张照片，拍的是七浦路服饰市场旁边的一条小弄堂里，一座废弃的老洋房前堆积着大量缺胳膊少腿的塑料模特。历史与现代的遗弃承载进同一张黑白的照片，别有一番意味。我问他，你是特意去拍的吗？陆元敏回答：“我去七浦路给家里的小狗买童装，路过时看到，觉得有意思就拍下来了。”多么生活化的问答。在与陆元敏的交谈中，我感觉他就是一个很普通的上海人，有着很平和的心态，过着普通的市民生活，并对于这种安稳与宁静的生活有着由衷的热情。也许正因为如此，上海在他眼中是原生态的。他的照片里没有宏伟的建筑，壮观的场景，只有细微之处生活的乐趣，家庭的温馨，但都真实地流露出属于上海这座特殊城市的气息。在他早期的作品中有一张照片，拍的是具有上海特色的石库门房子里的情景。屋子不大，有很多的杂物，当时主人抱怨说，有什么好拍的，屋里那么乱，然而陆元敏就是看中了这些凌乱中透出的上海人生活的蛛丝马迹以及多元素的生活趣味。我想，很多年后，那些已经生活在宽敞整洁的楼房里的人们，应该会被这张照片所打动，进而引发对逝去岁月的缅怀。 陆元敏是一个怀旧的人，很多过去的经历、看过的画面停留在脑中，在他选取拍摄素材和视角的时候，这些记忆会潜移默化地通过手中的照相机进入他的黑白照片，以别样的方式呈现。“我会有意地模糊时间概念。”“其实，很多环境都没变。我给一个人拍照，十年后在同样的场景给另一个人拍照，黑白胶卷拍出来的效果仿佛他们生长于同一年代。”对于这种让时光停滞的感觉，他似乎很得意。上海在以飞快的步伐前进，速度之中很多事物都换了新颜，但是，在巨大的变动里很多上海人仍然按照自己的逻辑生活着，陆元敏也是其中一员。在这样处世不惊的心态下，陆元敏很沉稳地抓住了上海一个个旮旯角落里的琐碎细节，在日益无序的现实所表现出的戏剧性与虚幻感中记录下时间的延承和生活的真谛。 2006年6月5日到7月11日，《陆元敏的LOMO世界》在香港新世界大厦底楼展出。使用迷你傻瓜LOMO相机源于朋友的赠送，而喜欢上LOMO，是因为它的随意、即兴，因为相片四周的暗角，犹如自己在隐蔽的角落不露声色地记录都市的隐秘。一次，一位记者采访陆元敏，为了了解他在拍摄中与别人交流的过程，特地让他随身携带了一个小录音器，结果播放出来是一片空白，不是机器坏了，而是陆元敏在拍照时，没有跟人说过一句话。在陆元敏的摄影世界里，他善于一个人穿梭于过往与现实中，同时也给人们留下了宝贵的视觉文献，引领习惯朝前看的人们静心回溯生活与心路历程。
舒浩仑：摄影机下的乡愁（小标题） 认识舒浩仑是因为6月25日参加了“影像现场之纪录片《乡愁》上海首映暨舒浩仑导演见面会”。在这之前我不知道原来影片是可以这样拍的，而作为一个外乡人，我不知道上海普通人家原来是这样生活的。 影片在一段缓慢的述说中开了场：“一天，奶奶打电话告诉我，她在报纸上看到，大中里已经被区政府卖给了香港老板，不久就要拆迁了。在我所住的城市上海，拆迁是司空见惯的，但在那一刻，我已不能司空见惯了，因为我们的老房子就在大中里，而大中里也将遭到这司空见惯的拆迁，之后就会变成那些鲜亮繁华的高楼大厦，而我现在所能做的就是拿起摄影机来，对着还没变成瓦砾的大中里，写下心中的乡愁。” 舒浩仑，1994年毕业于华东工业大学，获工学士学位。后因热爱电影，赴美国南伊利诺斯州大学学习电影编导，获MFA(Master of Fine Arts)学位。2002年他刚完成后来荣获国际大奖的纪录电影《挣扎》，暑假从美国回上海，听说居住了几十年的大中里要拆迁，就打算趁房子变成废墟之前把它拍下来。当时舒浩仑看到《上海文学》有一个专栏“我的城市地图”，请各个作家回忆与自己的生活紧密相关的上海某处地方，他觉得挺有意思，就决定把《乡愁》拍成自己关于上海的私人影像记忆，内容限于一个即将拆迁的静安区石库门里弄大中里的当下和往昔，而人物都是与自己生活记忆息息相关的亲人和邻居。 《乡愁》如余光中有名的《乡愁》那样富有诗意，但又不全是唯美的情调。舒浩仑既是导演又是片中的主角，他带着一台摄影机在与奶奶、与邻居的对话中，记录着生活的点点滴滴。“我每天跑一万里路，别人一个月挣一万元钱，挣一万元的人未必有我那么开心。”卫家老伯津津乐道于他的快乐经，“安逸自有安逸福”。“阿跷”是大中里的标志人物，他的称呼来源于他右腿残疾，走路一跷一跷的，每天清晨他会打扫街道，然后就坐在垃圾箱的对面“执勤”，遇到陌生人，他会仔细盘问。过往的居民也会停下来与“阿跷”闲谈。舒浩仑的奶奶曾经学过会计，可惜没有用武之地，只好发挥在她的业余爱好上了。每次麻将结束，她会把每个人输赢钱的数目非常详细地记下来，加加减减，一丝不苟。 见面会上，有人疑惑：为什么片中人物的表现会这样自然？舒浩仑回答：“因为他们是我的亲人，不是演员。而我是完全融入到里面的，我们在同一个地方生活了很多年，关系非常的密切。这样一种密切的关系其实既是一种互相的帮助，也是一种互相监视。”镜头面前的人们非常自然，自然到可以看出他们对于摄影机的些许惊讶，以及偶尔的抱怨：“人老珠黄不值钱，吓死人。”“不要拍了，拍来拍去都是难看的老太婆。”耄耋老人啊，他们怎知自己脸上的皱纹，是对逝去岁月最好的纪念，他们几十年如一日，如同一个老式钟摆的生活方式也是上海文化的深刻印记。 大中里，很窄很杂，然而，那一个个即使是非常不起眼的景点也都深藏着一段段美妙的记忆。丁字路口二楼的窗台让舒浩仑想起儿时傻傻地看楼下人来人往的情景。弄堂尽头的小店让他想起小时候常吃的三角包，一包两毛。一栋旧宅让他想起青梅竹马的同学和青涩的味道。红瓦屋顶让他想起在上面奔跑时体会到的独行客的感觉。附近的电影院让他想起整晚不睡觉看电影的经历。弄堂里的早餐摊让他想起80年代的大饼摊以及上海专为油条特制的、被外乡人嘲笑过于算计的半两粮票。 记录片《乡愁》如一首散文诗，看似平淡，却时刻拨动着人们的心弦，片中的音乐、场景让观众自然而然地与自己的经验连接起来，不由自主地去追寻那个纯真年代。一位东北的记者看了《乡愁》后说，小时候他常抱着收音机听单田芳的评书，想不到那个时候南方人和北方人一样喜欢单田芳。有人看完片子出来，走到街上，感慨不已，立即拿起手中的照相机在老街上游走，开始他的追忆历程。 《乡愁》似乎很个人化，其中倾泻的情绪很私人化，然而这个小题材却恰恰反映了上海的历史、文化和人文境遇。大中里的状态是绵延的，时间是静止的，上海飞速的脚步很奇怪地在这里停滞了，就如同一个人在疲于奔波的路途中偶尔打了个盹，让所有过往的影子可以从容地在无数个方向伸展，在各个熟悉的角落触摸与回忆。
王安忆在她的《寻找上海》中 “寻根”。从上海开埠前绘制的《丹凤楼胜景图》，上海人的脸型、口音、气味，一直到今日的上海，她寻得很认真，但最后得出的结论是：“回过头来，又发现上海也不在这城市里”。 上海还是在上海这座城市里， 王安忆嫌弃的只是当今某些过于光鲜的被栽齐修平了的新景象，寻找的是那些带着“粗糙的毛边”和“杂芜的枝节”的上海“原生态”。这也是为何陆元敏的照片、舒浩仑的记录片里那些看似不登大雅之堂的细节，能引发人的共鸣，成为许许多多上海人记忆载体的原因。追忆是永远不会碰壁的。感谢那些满含深情用照相机用摄影机真实地记录上海生活的人，如果没有他们，后代人就无法充分解读与诠释上海，那么也许上海的真实影像也就不复存在了。 7/21/2006 石库门乡愁
上海石库门里，“里弄就是客厅” 舒浩仑提供
纪录片《乡愁》的网站：http://haolunshu.spaces.msn.com/ 纪录片《乡愁》的导演的e-mail/MSN: haolun@hotmail.com Documentary NOSTALGIA’s website: http://haolunshu.spaces.msn.com/ Film Director Haolun Shu’s MSN/E-mail: haolun@hotmail.com
鉴于不断收到国内外求购<<乡愁>>DVD的邮件,因此制片方在加紧运作DVD的发行事宜,也请各位推荐信誉良好的发行商给我们,一旦DVD上市时，我会e-mail大家，只要你发e-mail到我的邮箱里（haolun@hotmail.com）或注意此网页（http://haolunshu.spaces.msn.com/）的消息，， The producer is working on the release of DVD "Nostalgia" (if you have a good distributor, please advise us). As soon as the DVD ( certainly English subtitle included ) is available on the market, I will e-mail you (If you send your e-mail to haolun@hotmail.com, or pay attention to the news on http://haolunshu.spaces.msn.com/
《乡愁》将在上海多伦现代美术馆（http://www.duolunart.com/）2006年9月16日下午2点再次放映
Nostalgia will be screened again On Sep. 16 (SAT), 2:00 PM In Shanghai Duolun Museum of Modern Art ( http://www.duolunart.com/)
乡愁的片花
http://tdb.berlinale-talentcampus.de/app/stream/play.php/wmv/400?mov=2005_944
或
7/14/2006 国际媒体对舒浩仑的纪录片《乡愁》首映的报道, Documentary " Nostalgia" by Haolun Shu is reported on the news media around the world乡愁的首映报道由路透社首发， 而后CNN, ABC,Yahoo,华盛顿邮报, 波士顿环球报,中国国际广播电台,台湾中国邮报,香港标准报,英国苏格兰人报，Ninemsn(澳大利亚最大的门户网站), 科威特时报相继转发和报道。报道的全文及网页链接如下：
Nostalgia’s Shanghai premier was first reported by Reuters. Then the report is quickly picked up and published by the news media around the world. The media list as follows: CNN, ABC,Reuters, Yahoo, Washington Post, Boston Globe, China Radio International, China Post (TAIWAN), The standard (Hong Kong), Scotsman,     ,   Shanghai film mourns loss of past
SHANGHAI, China (Reuters) -- Today, just a quarter of the Shanghai neighborhood of old brick-and-stone houses where film-maker Shu Haolun grew up still stands. Most of the 34-year-old's childhood playground has given way to high-rise apartment blocks and hotels, and the old area in which he was brought up is now surrounded by what he calls "the concrete monsters". For many Chinese, replacing old and dirty houses with well-equipped apartment blocks seems entirely appropriate. But for Shu, a way of life is slowly dying. He mourns the loss of the intimate warren of streets that cars can barely squeeze through, to the way people wander in and out of each other's homes because no one locks their front door. "In 2002, I came back from the U.S. for a summer break just as the local government announced that our area was slated for imminent destruction, so that was the first reason I thought about making a documentary," said Shu, who studied at film school in the United States. "But my main inspiration came in 2001, reading a few articles in a Shanghai literary magazine that had been written by famous Shanghai writers about their respective birthplaces," he said. "Nostalgia", first screened in late June, is a 70-minute portrait of life in the old brick houses that characterized Shanghai's residential construction from the 1920s to early 1940s. Known as "Shikumen", a reference to their stone gates, the architectural style of old houses such as the one Shu grew up in is the exclusive preserve of Shanghai, created as a new hybrid of European and local forms. Many have since disappeared. Much of the film follows Shu's own family, who first moved to the "Da Zhongli" complex from the countryside in the 1935. His grandmother, who had just married, was 16 at the time. "My father loved the film. He was born in the house in 1936 and my parents lived with my grandparents but, according to the party, my grandfather was a capitalist, so his room, and art, was confiscated during the Cultural Revolution," said Shu. The audience at the film's first screening loved it too, said Shu, and many of them cried. Although it won't reach the cinemas, there will be a number of public screenings at independent venues and Shu plans to release 5,000 DVDs for sale at around 20 yuan ($2.50) each. China's Communist Party leadership embarked upon a massive scheme after the revolution in 1949 to build a new country after decades of civil war and battles against Japan. Many of China's most senior political leaders are engineers by training, with a fondness for massive and symbolic building projects, like the Three Gorges Dam. Fewer have a preference for preservation, though Shanghai's early 20th century European-styled buildings are protected by the government as "heritage architecture", in what Shu sees as a social comment. "It's because they are better-preserved, and because they belong to high-class people," says Shu. "But the shikumen are for ordinary people. They are neither slums nor are they for the nouveau riche." Though Shu has his sympathizers, even many of his old neighbors are ready to move, or think they can get a good deal on compensation, he says. Shu admits the old houses have disadvantages -- his family used chamber pots and had sponge baths. Shu's father moved out in 1992, though his grandmother refuses to. But Shu opposes the appropriation and commercialization of old housing compounds, even though they help restoration, on the grounds that the interests of local people should come first. One such development, known as "Xintiandi", features in Shu's film. Financed by money from Hong Kong, the shopping plaza is full of renovated old buildings, upscale boutiques and wealthy foreigners, something Shu considers inappropriate. "The film's not about making a statement per se, but there is a message there. When you destroy someone's old home, you should be very careful," said Shu. "People have been there for 70 years, so the homes are old and sacred to their residents. You must at least show care and kindness to them." But for Shu's old compound it is already too late. Banners throughout the neighborhood express thanks to locals for their "understanding" over the move, and Shu says that these days the local residents' committee has no committed residents left -- just government appointees. Indeed, he sees no possibility of salvation for his old home. According to notices pasted on the old brick walls, the compound will be destroyed later this year. "People here don't have a high income but they love their lifestyle. It's a community, and they play mahjong and chat together every day. I just wanted to commemorate it."
纪录片《乡愁》的网站：http://haolunshu.spaces.msn.com/ 纪录片《乡愁》的导演的e-mail/MSN: haolun@hotmail.com Documentary NOSTALGIA’s website: http://haolunshu.spaces.msn.com/ Film Director Haolun Shu’s MSN/E-mail: haolun@hotmail.com
制片方正在运作乡愁的发行事宜，一旦DVD上市时，我会e-mail大家，只要你发e-mail到我的邮箱里（haolun@hotmail.com）或注意此网页（http://haolunshu.spaces.msn.com/）的消息 The producer is working on the release of DVD "Nostalgia". If you have a good distributor, please advise us by haolun@hotmail.com. As soon as the DVD ( certainly English subtitle included ) is available on the market, I will e-mail you (If you send your e-mail to haolun@hotmail.com, or pay attention to the news on http://haolunshu.spaces.msn.com/
《乡愁》将在上海多伦现代美术馆（http://www.duolunart.com/）2006年9月16日下午2点再次放映
Nostalgia will be screened again On Sep. 16 (SAT), 2:00 PM In Shanghai Duolun Museum of Modern Art ( http://www.duolunart.com/) 6/27/2006 纪录片《乡愁》上海首映暨导演舒浩仑见面交流的文字记录稿纪录片《乡愁》上海首映暨舒浩仑导演见面会交流纪录稿
受上海影视文化图书馆委托，作为《影视现场》策划人之一卡夫卡·陆主持了见面交流会
卡夫卡·陆: 每一座城市都要发展，发展就会有一些我们记忆里的往事随着城市的变迁消失，大中里曾经留下过近代上海第一段移民的历史，而今天它就将完成历史的使命成为我们回忆的往昔。
陆杰：这个是一个很感动人的片子，是城市改造的记录，片子不是很宏大，但是内容丰富。从我的角度来看，摄影的最大功能就是记录。拍这样的纪录片要自己有自己的目标，不能只在意钱，想着怎么拿它卖钱。虽然我认识舒浩仑有点晚，从我看过的片子来说，我很喜欢这个片子。舒浩仑他把自己家的那张“底片”放大了。我真的希望我们能够继续在自己生活的空间里去寻找。
舒浩仑：是啊， 艺术创作是在自己身边，而不是跋山涉水嘛！
提问：你片子里的“初恋”那段是搬演的吗？ 舒浩仑：是的 提问：那小时候的那些电视节目展现呢？ 舒浩仑：是电视台里找的资料
丁盈：一般人用图片来讲故事，而你是用镜头来讲述一个故事，而为什么这些片中的人物的表现回这样自然？ 舒浩仑：因为他们是我的亲人，不是演员。而我是完全融入到里面的，我们在同一个地方生活了很多年，关系非常的密切。这样一种密切的关系其实既是一种互相的帮助，也是一种互相监视。有个记者问起我们的邻里关系，我可以举这么一个例子，大家都知道石库门的房子在夏天是很热的，我家在前厢房，我们邻居在后厢房，如果夏天的晚上我们把门关了，后厢房是根本没有办法睡的。所以，我们以前就是把门都打开，让大家晚上可以睡的舒服。我们没有觉得这是什么付出，觉得这是非常自然的事情，是应该的。这些感人的东西，我很难从我目前生活的环境里、以及80年代以后再看到。（注：这种没有个人私秘生活是农耕族群向城市文化进程里的一段，它只属于我们的祖辈，这种情感的共同记忆是社会学家应该研究的话题）。
张平杰：曾经有北京师范大学的教授张同道和我说上海有个舒浩仑有个新片子，我今天看了以后心情很复杂。我在纽约做推广纪录片的事情，上海现在是世界关注的焦点，我是上海人，91年离开上海，7年后回来已经不认识了。舒浩仑将上海记录在自己的作品里，我觉得很有意思，曾经在美国肯德基州有个老镇子要拆，政府就请人培训摄影师去拍下来，作为文献存起来，后来成为了传统。再后来有个人叫SOMI的去云南宣传这个传统。住在上海的人能记录自己身边的变迁是太有意义的事情了。片子很细致，也很深入，每个角落都有“色”、“香”、“味”，外国人很喜欢这样的片子的，因为报纸报道都不是深入的，舒浩仑的片子会给我们的东西是很具有很高价值的。谢谢舒浩仑导演！
提问：我们可以看的出，除了你之外，另外有一个摄影师是以外来人，外来者的身份参与记录片的，这是为什么？ 舒浩仑：我觉得在这个片子里，我必须进入画面，而不是保持一个假装的客观而躲在镜头之后，我是其中的一部分。而我一个人的话比较单调，多一个人的话，可以通过对话，或者我本能的诉说的欲望来带出更加多的信息，以及我们忽略了的东西。 （卡夫卡·陆：纪录片的意义在于没有主观判别的真实纪录，这种人文状态的记录将是一个民族宝贵的记忆）
提问：影片拍摄了3代人，但是为什么对父辈的记录比较少？ 舒浩仑：父母现在都不住那里了，我在片子里身为拍摄者，对根源的东西的记录。我也只是知道三十年代的时候奶奶他们来上海，但是没有想到的是他们一住就是70多年之久。奶奶总是说自己死也要死在大中里的房子里，很遗憾，我今天是要把奶奶和虞家阿婆请来的，但是他们骨折在医院，真的很遗憾。我请来了亮亮爸爸，片子里大家都看见了，这就是中国人的安平乐道，他们这代人，普通人的思想就是石库门里很多人的思想。如果每个人都这样那我想我们就是和谐社会了。亮亮爸爸每天跑步、种花，就是很简单的自得其乐，他以前是手电筒厂的，呵呵，当时我们的手电筒都是从他这里拿来的，一样，我妈妈是护士，里弄里很多人打针就是我妈妈的事儿。
马宁：看了这个片子我心里感到有很复杂的情绪。我没有搞过纪录片，但是我教过很多年的书，还做过电影的制片。相比较安东尼奥尼的《中国》以及贾樟柯的《三峡好人》来说，我在你的纪录片里看到的更多的是种和谐的东西，我觉得很有趣，奶奶不能离开，也无能离开，住了几十年，但是依然在维护一种和谐。我感觉你并不是真正的进入这个片子，你是个外人，而整个纪录片是篇散文。也就是说舒浩伦的主观能动性很大，支配性很大。另外，在上海地区，在49年之前是个华丽的地方，是个充满租界，意识形态非常复杂的地方。政治的影响在片子中也有体现，但是导演还是尽量让片子不那么锋利，也就是维持一种和谐，偶尔有言语上的锋利，比如某口井曾经有人跳下去自杀，但是真正锋利的东西不多。
舒浩仑：小马哥说得好，这些东西我想表达，最重要的是我要记录即将小时的乡里、家人、族……对大城市的人很缺故乡的感觉，现在的更年轻的一辈就没有了，因为家一直搬，我到读大学才离开大中里的。我不知道我是不是要批判，是不是要尖锐，我很纯粹，我只是要拍我要的东西，我特别着急着要把它拍下来，唯恐大中里拆掉了就没得拍了。陆杰让我接着拍，而且拍到大锤砸落的那一刻，我觉得太残忍了。这片子不仅仅是关于拆迁，是每个人对故乡的怀念，而我市通过影像和声音来表现。
刘海波：马宁先生说不够批判，但是我觉得所有的风格都是在一个“愁”字上，所以我觉得并不需要从一个非常宏大的角度来进行批判。我们从前看类似的纪录片，大多是从一个大的角度方面入手，从来没有见过这样一部从一个人的私人记忆出发，而且是主观介入的片子，这是一种情绪。很多音乐，场景都能勾起我们的记忆，我也是1972年的，虽然我不是出生在上海。我觉得从这样一个角度出发很好。
提问：我很喜欢这个片子，现在有些拍老房子，可能是感情色彩浓重了点，你蛮可取的是你穿插了老电影等素材，很幽默，我要问的是你有种愁绪，你有点对现代的恐慌吗？ 舒浩仑：我对亚洲国家的大发展一直觉得进入了一个误区。我去雅加达参加电影节都不想出宾馆，整个城市都交通堵塞，这已经不是现代化了，我对现在的亚洲国家的所谓的“现代化”很反感，其实现代化太快不是件好事情。我们不要一直往前走，有时要回去看看，不要等故乡没有了再来后悔！
提问：你表达的是乡愁，但是你有没有对观众的期许？你对新天地这种改造有什么期许和意见吗？ 舒浩仑：新天地绝对不是好样板，把文化和人都弄空，这个是盆景，这其实和我们对古镇什么的之类的保护的误区一样，西塘这种地方要收门票，镇子里到处卖得一样的东西，感觉和麦当劳这样的店没什么区别呢？把活生生的地方变成了超市里那些大同小异的快速消费品一样，把玩之后就被抛弃，很让人痛心的。
卡夫卡.陆：舒浩伦的情绪很正常，住在老屋里的人其实也是很想出去的，因为条件差，当然也有因为住久了的感情，政府也希望大家可以有好的居住环境，所以这是一个共同的离合的状态。在美国也一样，在发展中必定是要舍弃一些东西的。纪录片更多的是在表现一种人的状态。石库门最早出现的20年代的时候是家庭殷实的人居住的，是那个时候社会上很多在洋行之类工作的人居住的。而后到了40、50年代的时候，开始变成了72家房客的状态。到了现在，石库门里居住的大多数是外来人员。所以说，我们必须往前看，所有的人都是过客，我们要做的只是缅怀。
提问：你会跟踪再拍吗？大中里的对拆迁的看法吗？ 舒浩仑：没有想好，也不知道。我不特别愿意再拍，因为我有情感障碍。我受不了“大中里”的门牌倒下来，听说好象买大中里的商人现在融资有问题，我自私地庆幸着，我希望大中里存在。其他人对拆迁的看法，很复杂，当事人看事情的角度都不一样，当然这是个严肃而复杂的问题，需要另找时间单聊。
卡夫卡.陆：其实舒浩伦的情绪是一种记忆，但很多私人怀旧和真正住在里面是不同的，所以我们真实的介入，很多东西是过去了便不再的，石库门是一个代表，是一个记忆的载体。
提问：最近流行怀旧，但是过去不一定都美好，我也不赞成石库门变成新天地。想问问你怎么处理现实和回忆？ 舒浩仑：欧洲的城市对建筑保护有很好的办法。，我们对城市改造放远目光，不要急功近利，我不是城市规划专家，所以也说不好。
张平杰：谈纪录片和电影，其实他们的区别很大。纪录片保留的是文献，这样后人可以看历史。所以舒浩伦的个性化的记录家族、记忆等已经够了。不应该在记录片中表现一种指像性，也就是说太锋利不是很好，我们应该留一个公正客观的历史给后世。
提问：你的片子有英文字幕，它会参加比赛的对吗？它会可以从西方人的角度来看吗？有异族情趣在里面吗？问问亮亮爸爸的感受！ 舒浩仑：我没有那么西化，我会送去国际影展，有人喜欢就有人不喜欢，不喜欢的人他们喜欢旁观式的记录，我觉得没有意思。 亮亮爸爸：我从小看浩仑长大，外婆叫他猪猪，我一直觉得他活络。我看这个片子觉得是真实的、生动的。上海人都是对这个有感情的，片名叫乡愁就切实的。老情怀嘛~看看72家房客，大城市人与人间的感情很柔和。片子嘛总归有缺点的，浩仑要再努力一定可以的很好的。
提问：前面有人说片子没矛盾，其实我觉得片子本身就是最大的矛盾，我是苏州人，苏州也一样在这样变迁着，我觉得新天地保留也对，你不要那么遗老遗少呢？ 舒浩仑：我个人对此有不同看法，以后再找时间和你交换意见
观众：片子是有些忧愁，片子很缓慢的节奏，叙事是温情的回忆，是感动是温暖！
舒浩仑：老卡说 “所有的人都是过客，所有的城都是过往，我们能做的只是缅怀或憧憬”。，我用这段话来结束今天的活动！
最后感谢所有的来宾和上海影视文献图书馆、朱屺瞻艺术馆的领导和工作人员对于本次研讨会的大力支持和帮助，也谢谢虹口图书馆为研讨会提供场地。 本次活动文字稿记录是舒浩仑导演的两位学生丁盈和陈晓琪完成。
首映会后，部分观众在他们的各自博客上发表的《乡愁》观后感，请见： http://angelinepictures.spaces.msn.com/blog/cns!D7A4B6AC4F5EAB!1038.entry (下文是转贴再转贴，来自于文学博士刘海波先生的博客）
很久以来，我怀疑上海没有本土的大气的艺术家。
很久以来，我遗憾没有人记录这天翻地覆的上海，上海人都忙于参与到这个翻天覆地的过程中，无暇思索。
没想到，这样的艺术家就在我的身边，近到同一个走廊，同一间办公室。
舒浩仑是个率真的人，他的率真在中国语境里显得格格不入。他经常在我们开会时，纠缠于某些别人看来的小事，惹得很多人不高兴。
或许到现在，他还不是一个成功的老师，但是无疑它已经是一个成功的纪录片工作者。他有纪录片工作者所必需的细腻的人文关怀、敏锐的嗅觉，和那一份诗人才有的乡愁。
《乡愁》是一个七十年代出生人，获知童年的家园将逝时，一次充满感伤的缅怀。它的基调是“愁绪”、是淡淡的哀愁、是无奈的告别、是温情的回忆。它不是愤激的、不是批判的、不是哭诉的。
然而由于这种缅怀与上海的城市拆迁形成某种叠画，因此有人误读为批判，而遗憾于其尖锐的不够。
《乡愁》是以城市拆迁为背景的，但它不同于以往的同一题材纪录片，它的视角不是客观的、外在的、隐藏的、批判的、宏大叙事的。舒浩仑出现在镜头里，如此深入地介入了影片的叙事，他个人的记忆、他私人的感伤成为影片的重要线索，也是影片中最动人的篇章。
我本人同样出生于70年代前期，经历了一个完全不同于当下的时代，由于恰恰成长于这个生活范式发生重大转换的时代，我们不可能在新一代的生活经历里找到哪怕我们童年生活的一点点影子，因此我们的记忆变得格外珍贵，如果唤醒我们记忆的街道、房屋、门前的大树、附近的小学、身边的亲戚和邻居一个个离开，我们将彻底变成无根的一代，于是，在他们即将逝去的端口，对记忆的叙述变得弥足珍贵。
怀旧具有天然的合法性,因为所怀念的都是逝去的,逝去的本身就宝贵,而被怀念起来的往往都是美好的记忆,比如青梅竹马的爱情,比如月光露台上偶然的冲动,怀旧的宝贵在于每一个日子里都有一段鲜活的永不再来的生命.这样的乡愁每个人都会有,因此会产生共鸣.
然而当舒浩仑把这种缅怀引向对现实的反思时,他不知不觉中进入了一种经典叙事.18\19世纪,当欧美的工业革命如火如荼的扩张时,浪漫主义的哈代们却产生了莫名的愁绪,他们控诉着可怕的机器对人性的戕害,追悼着田园的将逝.一个时代过去了,一个新的时代到来,总会有人为之欢呼,有人为之哀愁,前者是现实主义的实业人,后者则往往是浪漫主义的诗人,所谓诗人就是情绪过剩的人,活在内心的人.历史证明,浪漫主义怀旧者对狂飙突进现实的抨击缺少足够的历史合理性.然而却因此获得了文学的合法性.文学,诗人,总是以一己之体验对抗整个时代.
回到<乡愁>,城市拆迁并不全然不义,只有非法拆迁才是应该批判的,看不出<乡愁>里大中里拆迁是非法的.所以,舒后来对城市改造的抨击缺少厚重的法律和道德支持,但是却不乏美学支撑.我的意思是.正是这种合情不合理的叙事使我们把导演归为诗人行列,这是诗人的经典叙事.
独立影评人卡夫卡·陆对《乡愁》的影评和介绍： http://kavkalu.movblogs.com/article-137824.html http://kavkalu.movblogs.com/article-137060.html http://kavkalu.movblogs.com/article-138024.html http://kavkalu.movblogs.com/article-138436.html
纪录片《乡愁》上海首映新闻稿 http://kavkalu.movblogs.com/article-139176.html
|
舒浩仑1994年毕业于华东工业大学，获工学士学位。后因热爱电影，赴美国南伊利诺斯州大学学习电影编导，获MFA（Master of Fine Arts）学位。求学回国期间，独立制片和编导了纪录电影《挣扎》。现居上海，创建“电影精神工作室”，致力于中国的新锐纪录与故事电影的制作，同时执教于上海大学影视学院。2004年，被亚欧基金会作为中国新锐电影人的代表邀请参加在印尼雅加达召开的“第三届亚欧电影发展会议"，此次会议由法国南特国际电影节协办。《乡愁》是舒浩仑第二部纪录电影。2005年，被第55届柏林国际电影节邀请参加“天才校园”单元，剧情长片剧本《逃》入选电影节的“剧本工作坊”。
《乡愁》是一部感性的作品，习惯纪录片的冷静和旁观的观影习惯会因为观看《乡愁》而受到强烈的冲击。同时，因为片中所包含的70年代人共通的成长经验，这种感性又会令人感动和回味。导演舒浩仑将这部纪录片定义为第一人称的纪录片，相对于他的第一部纪录片——反映当下中国某种层面现状的《挣扎》，《乡愁》更接近一种饱含感情的写作，不过是用影像来书写的。
ArtWorld：从国外学习回来，你便开始拍摄纪录片，为什么选择纪录片作为你创作最初的一种表达方式？
ArtWorld：你第一次知道了弄堂口的清洁工阿跷的名字，并很郑重地在《乡愁》的旁白中说出来。有什么意味？
|
|
