上周NYT 也有不错的影评。

‘The Wild Goose Lake’ Review: A Noir Thriller in Wuhan
This film is dark and moody like the old classics, but the director Diao Yinan has created a very contemporary crime drama.

Hu Ge in “The Wild Goose Lake.”Credit...Film Movement

By Glenn Kenny
March 5, 2020

In classical Hollywood cinema, a rainy night rendezvous at a train station is made of shadows and cigarette smoke and romance. But times and movies have changed.

The opening scene of “The Wild Goose Lake,” a new crime thriller directed by Diao Yinan, is indeed wet and dark. Our ostensible hero is a downcast young man with a near-fresh laceration on his cheek and bruised knuckles. The young woman asking for a cigarette — not the woman he is expecting, but someone he’ll have to deal with — doesn’t approach him with any pretext of seduction.

And the train station is all concrete slabs and neon and fluorescent lights, nothing like the chiaroscuro of noir as we knew it. Such is the world Zhou Zenong (Hu Ge) and Liu Aiai (Gwei Lun Mei) inhabit. Zhou is a gang leader whose attempt to squash a turf war among motorcycle thieves ends in some bloody deaths (one lifts a gory beheading gag from either Fellini’s “Toby Dammit” or Herschell Gordon Lewis’s “She-Devils on Wheels,” or both). Zhou has also (inadvertently, he insists) killed a cop. A dragnet is tightening around him.

Liu is one of the “bathing beauties” who frequents the title lake, an area replete with rickety cabins that is depicted as a bedraggled center for prostitution. (The movie is set and shot in Wuhan, a city with many lakes, and the characters speak its dialect.) Liu is the keeper of two keys: She can reunite Zhou with his long-estranged wife, or she can collect a large reward by turning him in to the police, some of whom surpass the standard level of corruption.

But what Liu thinks she knows and what’s actually true start to deviate as the two characters seek to strike a bargain. The movie juggles flashbacks to the recent past with several cleverly constructed set pieces in which Zhou meets escape challenges with deadpan ingenuity. As for Liu, the core material of her heart will not, of course, be fully revealed until the last minutes — seconds, even.

This movie doesn’t recycle film noir conventions so much as contrive — with a genuine sense of discovery — to locate these conventions in a realistic contemporary context. The economic impoverishment of its principals is a key motivating factor; there’s a strong implication that it steered Zhou into criminality, while Liu’s matter-of-fact approach to prostitution (revealed in a “love” scene that begins with notes of tenderness and ends with blunt retching) carries a near-tragic resignation. Diao can rev up the octane in chase and action sequences, but the movie almost always stays grounded in the physically plausible. When it doesn’t, his directorial inventiveness steps in to make us feel as if the film hasn’t strayed.

One way in which Diao’s vision hews to classicism is in accepting the inexorability of fate, as film noir requires. Once we understand the full extent of Zhou’s transgressions, we know that, in the end, for him, it is what it is. Nevertheless, the movie exhilarates.

重温一下干净又漂亮的逍遥哥哥

很喜欢他的逍遥，灵气满满的男孩子，那么漂亮但是又一点也不娘

很想念小胡，开始重看他以前的访问。希望小胡一切都好。

而且当年没有ps没有滤镜全天然

也没有整容。不过除了五官漂亮精致之外我还喜欢逍遥的灵气，一看就是个聪明孩子