疗养院

由小说到电影的改编，不是一种平行移植，而类似于一场翻译——它涉及媒介、语法的转换，涉及在一种文体中可见的信息在另一种信息中变得隐形这个老问题。毕竟词语是依靠想象的，电影却主要是用来“读”和听。 舒尔茨的主要职业是画家，这帮助他在斯大林时期逃过一劫，当时他画了两年的斯大林像。他还曾为自己的作品《沙漏做招牌的疗养院》作过插图，出版过一本兼有蒙克和马索克风格的《偶像崇拜集》（The Book of Idolatry）。这并不能保证把他的作品翻译为电影时难度会降低。相反，因为舒尔茨的想象主要依赖多种感官的综合，尤其是事物难以在视觉上呈现的方面，比如生与死的临界状态、色彩的过渡、时间的空间化，以及扑朔迷离的幻觉，这导致电影必须对情节进行重构才能达到跟小说同样的效果。另外，几乎所有舒尔茨的招牌隐喻，还有他打破语言惯例的尝试，都很难在电影镜头中等值地呈现。比如，当他把夜空比作“漆黑的大教堂”时，我们如何拍摄出这样的画面呢？就像当莎士比亚把黎明比作“红色的斗篷”时，他呈现了画家无能为力之物一样，舒尔茨往往只是呈现，而不描绘；他引发想象，但对想象之物却并不给出确切的定义。在《现实的神话化》一文中，舒尔茨提到：“词的生命存在于一种联结趋势中，像传说中那条被切断的蛇，黑暗中各个碎片找寻着彼此，那词向着一千种关联收紧、拉伸自己。”这种词语之间的引力和有机化的趋势，是很难在视觉上呈现的，它有时反而以视觉上的电流短路为前提。 波兰导演沃伊齐希·哈斯的影片《沙漏做招牌的疗养院》（Sanatorium pod Klepsydrą，1973）提供了对布鲁诺·舒尔茨原文的一种很好的“翻译”。同名小说是一个在中文中只有30页的短篇，电影却长达两小时。也许是为了更好地把握“舒尔茨感”，哈斯把舒尔茨的其他小说，如《书》《父亲的最后一次逃跑》中的某些情节也拼贴在这部电影里。 影片从一节越驶越慢的火车车厢里开始。哈斯很好地捕捉到了舒尔茨小说的前现代氛围，即使是火车这样的工业时代的标志性产物，在电影中也与吉普赛式的流浪联系在一起，并且泄露出一种笨重感，看上去就像是一只侵犯感不明显的生物哈着气，里面的乘客像是在马车车厢里一样慵懒，处于漫游的、精神涣散的状态。从这个开头，我们就不经意间滑入了“沙漏时间”，而非“钟表时间”，前者是一种更加天然的计时工具，与自然的节奏、人工的粗疏联系在一起。 舒尔茨世界里的现实总是充满了疏漏的，是一种已经解体了的事物的碎片，仿佛处在事物的黄昏时刻。沙漏是一个原型象征，作为时间的衡量尺度，它却只能在空间里呈现。同时，它也永远处于满盈之后的耗损状态，换言之，一种事物的开头已经过去、很大部分难以追回的状态，一种“不及”的状态。沙漏意味着在故事开始时，我们并非处于起点；而在故事结束时，我们也并非处于终点。计时的工具必须比故事更长，我们只能从中间或“晚期”开始。 火车停滞、靠站的那一刻，我们便到了疗养院，一个和肉桂色铺子、鳄鱼街一样的地方，一个幽闭空间。可是那里的一切早已开始，“我”的父亲濒临死亡，并且已经在这种临死状态徘徊了很久。窗户上挂着破碎的蜘蛛网，地板上满是灰尘，床头柜上摆着药瓶和一杯天知道是猴年马月冲制的冷咖啡，这寓示着这是一个“旧”的世界。“我”很快就会发现，“以前似乎来过这里”。电影和小说在主题上没有显著差别，都是讲叙事者对临死父亲的告别。但这场告别延续了很久，本来是一种临界状态，却经过多次“回放”，时间处于冷冻然而接近支离破碎的状态，仿佛是在玻璃被寒风吹裂的那一刻凝固下来，之后就在碎玻璃片中以最低的速度来回折射。我们可以用《父亲的最后一次逃跑》中的一段话来概括这一奇异的现象： “这个时候，我父亲确实是死了。他已经死了很多次，总是死得不干不净，总是留下一些疑点，迫使我们不得不对他的死进行重新校订。这也有它的好处。把自己的死亡改成分期付款，父亲让我们习惯了他的离去。我们对他的归来已经无动于衷，每次都越来越短，越来越可悲。” 不管是哈斯还是舒尔茨，都经常被认为是超现实主义者，但是和一般的超现实主义的能值游戏不同，哈斯和舒尔茨都尽量言之有物。在令人眼花缭乱的形容词和色彩的盛宴背后，导演和作者都有一些需要从容道来的东西。疗养院是死亡的发生地，但是“父亲”一直处于肉体尚未冷却的库存时间中，如同博闻强识的富内斯，在梦一般的环境里，他身体日渐虚弱，仿佛走着走着就会一头栽进土里，他继续在一家眼镜铺旁盘了一个小摊，沿街兜售自己的货物，兴高采烈。“我”被囚禁在这一濒死的循环中，最终发现这一切都是名不副实的虚假……当然，“虚假”在舒尔茨这里的含义已经被颠倒了。电影中有好几分钟的傀儡人物场景，“我”在其中看到一个人机械地倒下，脸上被打破，露出陶制外壳下面的塑胶眼球和黑色弹簧片。对于迷恋外观的舒尔茨而言，这也许要比空无更容易让人接受。哈斯的另一部作品《萨拉戈萨手稿》（Rekopis znaleziony w Saragossie，1965）也涉及这种“外观”的形而上学：一个年轻男人在山洞中遇到几个自称是伊斯兰教徒的女子，于是发生了一场《游仙窟》式的故事，那部电影在讲述时也显示了一种异教式的宽容姿态。 作为创作的元指涉也很好理解，舒尔茨的生平和作品经历了被诗人和研究吉卜赛生活的学者耶日•菲科夫斯基考古并重新发现的过程，而舒尔茨本人则多次把自己的写作类比为是对童年记忆的考古学研究。“我们通常认为词是现实的影子，是它的符号。翻转这一表述才会更为正确：现实是词的影子。哲学实际上是历史语言学，是对词深度地、创造性地探险。”在他看来，写作类似于巫术，或是神话，通过这种行为，他可以召回自己的童年，也就是时间尚未解体的那一刻，那时的宇宙处于原始的发酵和圆满之中，一本普通的日历书可以被当作唯一的世界之书来反复品咋，而一个孩子可以从中窥探到世界上所有的秘密，比成人世界的加起来还要多。童年之后的一切都不再新鲜，并趋向无限的衰落，人在生命起源阶段对事物的有机把握渐渐被年龄封存。成年就像是废墟，写作者只能通过自己的笔在断垣残壁上寻找昔日的蛛丝马迹。

要在视觉上表达这种空洞的、分崩离析的时间，展示它的磨损和筛子般的千疮百孔，或者是人物的没日没夜的昏睡，就像舒尔茨用文字的炼金术展示的那样，当然不能再采用舒尔茨本人的词汇。哈斯试图在自己的镜头中打通异质的空间，实现舒尔茨在两个相邻的词语之间制造的令人眩晕的效果。比如，影片中有多次，主人公钻到卧室床底（寻找什么或是为了躲藏），暂别了卧室内的对话，却在床底遇到了找了许久的旧书籍或是什么人；当他从床底另一端爬出来，就到了另外一个世界，那里往往正在载歌载舞。于是室内、室外，床底、床上的故事就获得了“隔壁感”，这也是舒尔茨在词语之间成功建立的隔壁感。

THE HOURGLASS SANATORIUM

We’ve almost arrived.

How will I get there?

You’ll find the way.

You don’t need help.

I’ve come a long way.

I booked a room by telegram.

Who can I see?

Everybody is sleeping.

I’ll tell the doctor when he wakes up.

Sleeping?

It’s daytime not night.

They sleep all the time.

You didn’t know?

Night never comes here.

You can wait downstairs.

In the restaurant.

The doctor will see you now.

Where is he?

We received your telegram yesterday.

We sent our coach to the station.

You must have arrived

on a different train.

The station?

We don’t have a good train connection here.

How are you feeling?

Is my father alive?

Of course.

I mean to an extent

allowed by the situation.

You know, just as I do,

that from the perspective

of your home, your country,

you father is dead.

This cannot be fully reversed.

His death casts a shadow

on his existence here.

But he doesn’t know or suspect?

Don’t worry.

Our patients don’t suspect anything.

They can’t.

You probably want to see your father.

I’ll take you there.

We reserved a bed for you

in his room, as you requested.

The trick is that we moved back time.

Time is late here by an interval

which I can’t precisely define.

It all boils down to relativity.

Here, your father’s death

hasn’t occurred yet.

But he met with his death

in your country.

So my father is dead.

- Or is close to death.

- You don’t understand.

We reactivate past time

with all its possibilities.

Including recovery.

We let our patients sleep

for a long time.

We spare their vital energy.

They have nothing better

to do anyway.

Why don’t you lie down?

There’s nothing more

you can do now.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

I came to talk to you.

Go on.

Why are you spreading lies

and gossip about father?

- What lies?

- I know you’re behind them.

I didn’t lie.

You remember how he went

missing for many days.

He avoided us.

Who knows whether

he’s still alive somewhere?

I have to know the truth.

Stop tormenting me.

It’s hard to communicate with him.

How can I cope

with everything myself?

How can I answer questions

which God keeps asking me?

It’s too much for me.

His complaints terrify me.

- Don’t cry.

- I have a migraine.

You won’t go to school today.

To school?

Mom, I’m not a little boy anymore.

Yes, you are.

You’ve got ink on your hands.

Your knees are bruised.

You’re a naughty, unruly boy.

You hang out

with God knows whom.

Wake those good-for-nothings.

It’s time to open the shop.

- But I’m sure...

- Stop tormenting me.

I told you that your father

travels around as a salesman.

Sometimes

he returns home at night

only to go off again before dawn.

I’m sure he’ll come back.

You’re tossing and turning

like fish out of water.

- You sleep a bit, doze off a bit...

- Yawn a bit.

And you rest again.

You should learn wisdom

from an ant, lazybones.

An ant? Go to hell.

That ant of yours knows

no teacher, boss or shegetz.

And it’s doing fine.

What’s he talking about?

I walked the fields of a lazy man.

I walked the vineyards

of a stupid man.

Where is that from?

Our Lord didn’t say that.

Don’t listen to it!

Nettles grew over everything.

Thorns covered his land.

And the stonewall

collapsed to pieces.

Clap your hands

and call out His name

while rejoicing.

Call out his name to the sounds

of songs and trumpets.

Praise Him with harps,

praise Him with lyres.

Praise Him with the drums

and dancing.

Praise Him with stringed

instruments and horns.

Praise Him with the cymbals.

Praise him

with loud clanging cymbals.

Let everything that

has breath praise the Lord.

Alleluia.

Clap your hands and sing.

Sing.

Sing wisely.

In a dream he saw a ladder

that reaches from earth to heaven.

And God’s angels

were going up and down on it.

Is it possible?

It’s our little Józef!

Did you get lost on

your way to school?

Well?

Rascals! They’re everywhere.

When I want to go down

to get bread in the morning,

I can’t even....

...open the door.

They squeeze through cracks.

And try to get into the kitchen.

They ogle me.

They can hardly wag their tails.

They’re overjoyed

when they see a fire.

They clap their hands

and dance like savages.

They’re hopeless

at putting out fire.

But they like to celebrate.

- Who are you talking about?

- Those idle firemen.

They get lazy in autumn.

They sleep while standing.

I think you’re prejudiced.

They’re nice boys.

An old stove-fitter told me

that when he repairs chimneys,

he finds them attached

to the smoke vent,

motionless like the larvae.

They sleep like that being

drunk from raspberry juice.

And they whine in their sleep:

"Sugar, sugar".

If I glance at one of them,

his face swells and becomes

obscenely red like a turkey.

I heard that it’s a way

of strengthening the inner self.

And rejuvenating colours

when firemen eject fireworks,

rockets and Bengali lights.

I won’t give them

any juice anyway.

I didn’t ruin my complexion

hovering over the stove to make it,

so those rascals could drink it.

Unfortunately, Adela,

you never understood things

which go beyond the mundane.

Look.

Is it possible to grow hair

to the ground?

You look so different.

Just wonderful!

The captain of rascals!

"I, Anna Csillag, born in Moravia,

had poor hair growth".

I wish I had hair like that.

Would you like some water?

- With raspberry juice.

- No, thanks.

Too bad.

Her poor hair growth

was divine retribution.

But prayers and penance

took the curse off her.

She was graced with enlightenment.

She received signs

and made this miraculous remedy.

Look.

These are her brothers,

cousins and brothers-in-law.

Who’s he?

Another brother-in-law.

She made a whole town happy.

Really?

"Elsa. The fluid with a swan".

It’s a balm for all afflictions.

It works wonders.

Where did you get this book?

It’s been here all the time,

scattered around.

"Smoke all you want".

"Sexual Neurasthenia".

"Gramophones".

You silly thing.

We use its pages to wrap meat

and your father’s lunch.

It’s degradation of an original book.

You’re late.

There’s no more juice.

I have some rose preserve.

It’s not bad.

Adela!

- Try it.

- Thank you.

- It’s not a preserve.

- So what? It tastes sweet.

Is your name Jakub?

No, I’m Józef.

Jakub is my father.

I see.

Can you come out?

We can’t talk like this.

- Excuse me.

- It’s all right.

I have a valuable delivery.

Where can I find your father?

I’m looking for him myself.

Allow me to introduce

Honduras and Nicaragua.

Come closer.

It’s spotted.

That’s right.

It’s perishable.

- Birds of paradise?

- Not only.

For hatching, it’s best to let

Belgian hens sit on them.

Or you can do it yourself.

I think I see your father.

Over there!

Don’t you think he’s behaving

in a strange way?

He’s demonstrating.

Father!

Father...

You should beware of things

like narrow-mindedness,

pedantry and blind literalism.

Have you noticed that

in some books flocks of swallows

are flying between the verses?

Stanzas of swallows.

You should learn to read

from the flight of these birds.

Father. I have to tell you something.

It’s a secret.

I found an original.

- An original?

- Yes.

Look.

It’s worthless!

It’s a book!

It’s just a myth.

A book is a myth

we believe in when we’re young.

We stop treating it seriously

as we get older.

Books live a borrowed life.

Every book has a moment

when it soars into the air like

a phoenix with its pages on fire!

Look.

We love them for that moment.

But they turn to ashes.

Thank you.

Why doesn’t anybody

offer goldfinch?

Where?

A book is a myth, my son.

It soars into the air

like a phoenix.

Hyderabad.

Guatemala.

Tasmania, San Domingo.

Sierra Leone.

Labrador, Barbados,

Trinidad, El Salvador,

Borneo, Sumatra, Pernambuco.

Hiporabundia.

You’re talking nonsense.

You could say Panfibras.

Haleiwa, Abracadabra.

Why do I get the feeling

that I’ve been there before?

A long time ago.

What if we know all landscapes

that we come across in life?

Can anything new happen?

Something we can’t sense?

Do you hear me?

I want to know if all this

could have happened.

Answer me.

Did it happen or not?

Yes and no.

There are some things

that can’t fully happen.

They are too grand and magnificent

to fit into an event.

They just try to happen.

Tell me if they really exist.

She did exist.

And nothing can

take away my certainty.

Don’t be afraid.

She can’t hear us.

It’s my dead mother,

she lives here.

She’s inhabited by ghosts,

phantoms, larvae and chrysalises.

Helpless and naive,

she takes them into her dream

and sleeps with them.

She wakes up half-conscious

at dawn and remembers nothing.

That’s why she’s so sad.

She has to live so many lives.

Do you know a story

that time cannot change?

There is one that

you haven’t heard.

It belongs to the night.

Will you find the patience

to listen to it?

Somebody will walk

across the sky,

cuddling a baby in a coat.

Constantly on the way,

on a endless journey.

He’ll pass us with long steps.

That’s what’s going to happen.

Over and over again.

Bianca, you can count on me!

Till the last drop of blood!

Well?

It’s a riddle.

What about her?

She’s all grey.

The touch of her hand must

be beyond imagination.

What did you see there?

Something colourful,

colonial terrifying.

Abductions, pursuits, betrayals.

It’s a story about an abducted

and switched princess.

You’re making it up.

Java.

Sumatra.

Borneo.

I can appoint you as coregent.

Anonymously.

Together with the stamp album

we’ll form a triumvirate.

We’ll be responsible

for this unsolved affair.

With the stamp album?

What a naive question.

It’s a universal book.

A compendium of knowledge

about human life containing

allusions and understatements.

This story will be interspersed

with dashes, ellipses and sighs.

It requires a bit of intelligence

and imagination.

Your words are delirious,

ridiculous, insane.

I was fond of you, Rudolf,

because you own this album.

Now your outbursts of

envy put me off.

Don’t forget that you’re

dependent on me.

I have to get to the other side.

I know.

Her father is a ship’s doctor.

A small steam boat

with wheels at the sides

is waiting for her

every night at the pier.

It’s lights are off.

Don’t go there.

I have a bad feeling.

Don’t worry. I may seem excited,

but I have my fears.

Won’t it be safer to look through

the stamp album?

You haven’t seen New Mexico.

Remember that there

is no final Mexico.

Behind every Mexico

there is a new one.

They only seem dead.

The don’t have to breathe

for a longer period.

These villains won’t be

characters in novels.

They’re just a makeshift creation,

a one-time thing.

They were caught at a moment

when their obsession,

their madness was real.

Skilfully prepared, it became

the core of their new existence.

A new man was created

in the image of a mannequin.

This is anarchist Luccheni,

assassin of Empress Elisabeth.

And this is Draga,

the demonic Queen of Serbia.

Edison and Bismarck.

"Leatherstocking".

This is a young genius,

the pride and hope of his family.

Addiction to masturbation

ruined his life.

Unfortunately, they’re not authentic.

But we put a lot of effort

into making them look good.

Their faces are pale,

flushed from

the illness they died of.

Now take a look at

Emperor Franz Joseph.

Wrinkles on his face make him

look like he’s smiling.

But when you come closer,

you see that

his smile is just a grimace

of bitterness and terseness.

He had a younger brother,

so different spiritually

and ideologically.

This unfortunate antagonist,

disadvantaged by birth,

was Archduke Maximilian.

The emperor loved him secretly,

but planned to get rid of him.

He appointed him commander

of the Levantine Ship Squadron,

hoping that he’d go under.

Later he signed a secret alliance

with Napoleon III.

That’s him.

He used deception to involve

Maximilian in the Mexican incident.

This creative young man

renounced his Habsburg title

only to ride aboard

the French liner "Le Cid"

right into a trap.

Some sources say

he was just a cousin.

Others that he was never born.

He was conjectured from the fears

and hallucinations the emperor

experienced while sleeping.

We had problems putting

him back together

after his execution in Vera Cruz.

Unfortunately,

he still suffers from amnesia.

I had to teach him everything

about his life again.

My only success is that

at the sound of the name

of Emperor Franz Joseph

he draws his sword.

He wounded Victor Emmanuel.

The latter didn’t manage to get out

of his way quickly enough.

Bianca...

and Maximilian?

It’s a simple mechanical trick.

When wound up he moves

and acts like a live person.

A simple mechanical trick,

my foot!

A cynic in the tropics.

No, a tropical cynic.

And Rudolf said I exaggerated

and made things up.

They should take their medicine

and be in bed by now.

It’s not good to keep them

on stands for so long.

I can smell curare.

Would you like to see

my collection of weapons?

So my intuition was right after all.

Under the cover of law

and order hair-rising things

are happening here.

Will you tell me who Bianca is?

Her mother was a Creole.

Archduke Maximilian called her

lovingly Conchita.

She went down in history under

that name, through the back door.

Her mother?

You mean grandmother?

Mother.

After Maximilian’s downfall,

she took her daughter to Paris.

She lived on a widow’s pension.

That’s where history loses track

of our touching character.

Allow me to finish for you.

It’s confidential!

Keep calm and control yourself.

100,000 pesos.

My business is not going well.

It’s an expensive project.

In 1900 a Mrs. de V,

a woman of exotic beauty,

leaves France and goes to Austria

with her daughter and husband,

having fake passports.

They get arrested in Salzburg,

while changing trains to Vienna.

After checking his fake passport,

Mr. de V is free to go.

But he does nothing to get

his wife and daughter released.

That very day he goes back

to France and is never seen again.

I will be the one to identify him.

150,000 pesos.

You’re so uncompromising.

What do you want?

Your decisions will show

if you’re aware of the situation.

- I want facts!

- Stop!

I think Bianca’s origin

has been confirmed.

Negroes!

Hordes of Negroes!

Negroes at this time of the year?

The barometer

must be at its lowest point.

Bianca?

I thought you’d never get here.

- Sit down.

- No, infanta.

I have to do duties

which fate has assigned to me.

I have to carry out my plan.

Did you bring anything to read?

Decrees. Sign them.

"Daisy, Daisy give me your answer".

Barrel organs everywhere!

Real marvels of technology.

They may come in handy.

Things went so far that

I got involved in the dynastic

affairs of great monarchs.

I think we’re in trouble.

Let’s think about betrayal.

- Betrayal?

- Yes.

- Betrayal?

- That’s right.

Do you have a better idea?

I don’t understand.

It must be a wonderful feeling.

To penetrate the depths

of villainy and erase oneself

from one’s own memory.

Wouldn’t you like to be defiled

or repulsive for a moment?

But totally renewed.

Do it.

You’ll become one of them.

One of those black Negroes.

Now that things are at the final

stage you want me to betray?

You’re ridiculous with your

faithfulness and sense of mission!

- What if I chose Rudolf?

- No.

I prefer him a thousand times

over you, a boring pedant.

He would be obedient.

Even when it came to crime

or self-destruction.

Rudolf obedient?

Do you remember Lonka,

the washerwoman’s daughter?

You played with her

when you were a little boy.

- Yes.

- It was me.

Only I was a boy at that time.

Did you like me then?

Bianca, I feel everything

is going the wrong way.

Must you disappoint me?

May I see your tickets, please?

Conductor...

What is going on here?

Take it easy. Don’t panic.

We’ll fix everything quietly.

We don’t need help.

Normal facts are arranged in time.

They are threaded on it...

...like onto a string.

It’s important for

narration and continuity.

Fine.

What about events

which have no place in time?

Events which

have occurred too late,

when time has been allocated?

Is time too tight

to take in all events?

Time has its side offshoots,

somewhat illegal and dubious.

But we can’t be too fussy

when dealing with events

that cannot be classified.

Who knows? Maybe all the dirty

manipulation is behind us.

We’re heading to a dead end.

Exactly.

How can I get out of here?

Why don’t you try going

under the bed again?

- Excuse me, I have to go.

- Coward!

I hope to come back again.

Coward!

Stupid coward.

It’s you.

You don’t look well.

Everything is mixed up, father.

Father?

It takes a lot of patience to find

the right words in this confusion.

You can do it by grammatical

analysis of sentences and tenses.

What? I don’t remember.

I am, he is, she is...

I’ve got it!

You are, we are!

They are...

You need to eliminate

flirtatious chatter of birds,

their pointed adverbs, prepositions,

and timid personal pronouns

to find a healthy grain of time.

Legend books,

unwritten books, great epics,

pallid and monotonous

nameless novels,

faceless giants,

dark evening stories,

cloudy dramas,

errant and lost books.

You must have a lot of work.

The light on in your room

late at night.

Try. See if you can do it.

Fascinating!

What a beauty!

Remember. Paradisea apoda

or the bird of paradise.

Cardinalis cardinalis!

Chrysolophus pictus.

Upupa epops.

I want you to take

something with you.

Anything, at least a tiny bit.

Get it into your blood,

your life and save it.

And live with it.

Come in!

Go now.

They’re looking for you.

I don’t want to be disturbed.

Go.

Go!

Go!

Look at you.

You’re covered in cobwebs.

You ripped your coat.

You’ve been in the attic again.

Shop assistants steal from us,

people buy on credit only,

and you just play around.

Take it to the shop.

Your father must be hungry.

The shop!

They’re looking for you.

It’s hot.

Who?

The shop assistants,

especially Teodor.

I know. They’ll be climbing

the ladder up and down.

Up and down.

Józef!

I wish you

had been born earlier.

Come!

Take it to them.

It’ll scare them.

Adela, Holofernes was a man.

Whatever. I kept her in borsch

to make her look better.

I’ll buy it.

Lay off. It’s not for sale.

What? The head is in a shop,

so it’s for sale.

I’ll buy it.

Father!

Take it away.

There’s no room here.

Stop bothering me.

I’m busy.

Jakub! Go on, trade!

Father!

Wake up, Józef.

I know you’re exhausted.

It’s only a few steps more.

Father, you’re ill. You should

take care of yourself.

Can you hear him?

He’s coming.

I know him since childhood.

We went to school together.

That egoist disgusted me.

He devoured lots of buttered rolls.

Go and meet him.

He’ll think I ignore him.

Go!

If I’m not mistaken it’s Józef,

Jakub’s son.

May the sky over your heads

always be blue,

and the ground under

your feet moist with dew.

I don’t think I need to say that.

You can hear their shop

is as busy as a beehive.

It’s just appearances

and pitiful mystification.

Mother complains

that people buy on credit only.

- What did he say?

- Credit.

- I must have misheard.

- I could have expected it.

- They sell on credit.

- Enough! I don’t want to hear it.

Why do you keep bowing?

Turn your ear and listen

to the words of the wise.

Apply your heart to my teaching.

I sold for cash.

Help our fellow man

as much as we can,

but be vigilant

we don’t fall ourselves.

The seven years of plenty

will come to this land.

It was Christian Seipel and Sons,

owners of weaving mills.

The rich man laboured

in gathering riches,

and when he rests he shall

be filled with his goods.

The poor man laboured

in his low way of life,

and in the end he is still poor.

Come.

She doesn’t show up

in the park anymore.

They must be guarding her.

They smelled danger.

It’s nothing but humbug!

Extraterritoriality! Mexico!

Maximilian! Cotton plantations!

Enough!

Who told you that?

The files of this secret conspiracy

were never revealed.

I’m the owner of

this stamp album.

I won’t lend it to you again

for such purposes.

I must admit that

the whole thing is incredible.

Unbelievable.

What do you think, Rudolf?

Who could have conceived

such an evil idea,

which goes beyond any fantasy?

I’m amazed myself.

Tittle-tattle!

Our partnership is over!

Suit yourself.

I said I would prove

that it was all true.

- Where is Mr. de V?

- He’s left.

We’ll see.

Where is the infanta?

Her Highness has left too.

Nobody is here.

Right. Get out.

Somebody must have

betrayed me.

Abra...

Abra?

Abracadabra.

Great.

Come on. Get up!

Haleiwa!

Vienna!

Bravo!

Mount your horses, gentlemen!

Haleiwa!

- What’s going on here?

- This way, Your Highness.

Forward!

Gentlemen,

I troubled you in vain.

These people are free to go.

Don’t harm them.

In my blindness I wanted

to preach the scripture,

to interpret God’s will.

My false belief made me

pursue obscure clues

and make random conclusions.

Allow me, my friend.

Noble gentlemen and you, infanta.

I hand the regency to Rudolf.

I abdicate!

You’re free, noble gentlemen.

Thank you in the name

of our idea.

Our dethroned idea, which...

Hurry!

Hurry!

Father!

Call Garibaldi.

He’s an expert on wounds.

Bianca.

Get a stretcher.

Hurry!

What a fatal night.

I didn’t foresee it.

He had a noble heart after all.

I have wronged him.

Rudolf, you must comfort Bianca,

love her with double love

to replace her father.

You want to take him with you?

Let’s form a procession.

Form a procession!

One more thing, Rudolf.

I should be the one

to provide for the old age

of those homeless heroes.

Unfortunately I’m a pauper.

- How much?

- Ten thousand.

- Five.

- No.

Twelve.

Gentlemen! After what happened

no wax museum will take you in.

Competition is big.

As you have no practical skills,

my friend made a donation

to purchase twelve barrel organs.

Go around the world

and play to make people happy.

You can choose the music.

Now, dear friends

and noble gentlemen,

let’s cheer together:

Long live the newlyweds!

Farewell, gentlemen.

May what you see

be a warning to you.

Don’t ever try to guess

God’s intentions.

Ignorabimus, gentlemen.

Ignorabimus.

Are you Józef, Jakub’s son?

Maybe. Yes.

Did you dream the standard

dream of biblical Joseph?

Maybe.

Well?

Do you know that your dream

was noticed at the highest level

and was severely criticized?

I’m not responsible for my dreams.

Yes, you are.

You are under arrest in the name

of His Imperial and Royal Majesty.

I’m at your disposal.

His Imperial and Royal Majesty’s

bureaucracy is a bit slow.

I have surpassed that early dream

with more serious deeds.

I wanted to do justice

and kill myself.

Now that obsolete dream

has saved my life!

- Don’t cry.

- I have a migraine.

Come. We’ll make tea.

Is Adela at home?

Adela left to America.

She left?

She went by ship and it sank.

All passengers died.

We never heard from her again.

What about father?

Where is he?

He left many times,

but it was never final.

It had its good points.

This way he prepared us

for his ultimate departure.

Take me to him.

All right.

I think it’s time for you

to see him.

The shop is closed for good.

Sometimes I go down there

to sell the remnants.

But the shutters

are only half-open.

He was one of those

whose face was touched by

the hand of God while sleeping.

They know

what they don’t know.

They become speculative

and suspicious.

Through closed eyelids

they see images of distant worlds.

For man goes to his eternal home,

while mourners go about

in the street.

Before the silver cord is broken,

and the golden bowl is crushed.

The pitcher by the well is broken,

and the wheel at

the cistern is crushed.

Then the dust will return

to the earth as it was.

And the spirit will return

to God who gave it.

I’m so glad to see you, Józef.

What a surprise.

I feel so lonely here.

Although I can’t complain.

I’ve been through worse things.

I must tell you something.

But don’t laugh.

I rented a place for a shop here.

It’s nothing much.

Back home I’d be ashamed

to have a stall like that.

But here we had to pull

in our horns.

Isn’t that right, Józef?

Life goes on.

I must have overwound it.

I see you’re sleepy.

Go back to sleep.

You have no idea

how hard it was to get a loan.

People here

don’t trust old merchants.

Merchants with past experience.

Do you remember the optician’s

shop in the market square?

Our shop is right next door.

We don’t have a sign yet.

But you’ll find it.

You’re going out without your coat?

I couldn’t find it in my trunk.

They forgot to pack it.

Take my coat.

No. See you.

Jakub! Go on, trade.

Why don’t you sit down, father?

You’re ill. You should

take care of yourself.

Stop bothering me.

I’m busy.

A letter came for you.

It’s on my desk among papers.

On my first day here

I was served

an excellent fillet of beef

with mushrooms.

It was a hell of a piece of meat.

I have to warn you.

If they ever want to

serve you fillet of beef...

Fillet of beef...

I still feel fire in my stomach.

I have diarrhea after diarrhea.

It’s really tough.

Or take, for instance,

hunter-style roast,

stuffed with pate with gravy.

Here we don’t have to deny

ourselves anything.

We can afford

to indulge big style.

An angel of a boy.

So precious.

You must admit he’s charming.

Got a light?

Even schoolgirls here wear

bows in a special manner.

If you as much as glance at them,

you get that sultry look...

which fills us with desire.

I have to see the doctor.

He’s at the restaurant.

I’ve just been there.

Sorry.

I meant the operating room.

We’re evidently in a trap.

Ever since I came here,

the sanatorium personnel

hasn’t done anything

to provide proper care.

We’re left to ourselves.

I can’t get a bed,

not to mention clean linen.

Those secrets and discreet looks

of yours are just a mystification.

I feel like opening all those

doors to expose the intrigue

we got involved in.

Get some sleep.

You can hardly keep on your feet.

Józef, Józef...

I’ve been lying in bed here,

left without any care.

The wires have been cut.

Nobody comes to see me.

Nobody can make me

a cup of tea.

My own son has

abandoned his sick father

to chase girls in town.

Józef, you should go

to our shop more often.

The shop assistants

are stealing from us.

Our shop will go to waste

if nobody takes care of it.

Look, my heart is pounding.

My strength is leaving me.

Józef, was there

any mail from home?

Doctor...

You’re not looking well.

Take your jacket off.

I’ll examine you.

Your irritation is justified.

Your body,

especially your nervous system

has to adjust to new conditions.

We were deceived by an ad.

It wasn’t a good idea

to send my father here.

Moving back time!

It sounds good.

But what is it in fact?

Do we get fully valuable

and credible time here?

No. We get time

used up by people.

It’s frayed and full of holes.

It’s vomited, secondhand time!

You may question the quality

of your father’s existence,

but you can see him

and talk to him.

You should be

very grateful to the doctor.

Enough! Space is for people.

In space you can swing around,

turn somersaults,

jump from one star to another.

But don’t tamper with time!

The blame for this lies

in fast decomposition...

Of time.

We all know that

this chaotic element can be

kept within certain bounds

if regulated continually.

If not, it begins to play

all kinds of tricks.

Isn’t that right?

You should take better

care of yourself.

Wear warmer clothes.

To start with, get some exercise.

Later we’ll see.

Chin up!

It’s lucky that father

is no longer alive.

It won’t affect him anymore.

|

（本文首发欧盟电影展公众号）

1973年，波兰导演沃伊切赫·哈斯（Wojciech Has）的《砂制时镜下的疗养院》斩获戛纳电影节评审团奖。它以强烈的风格、形式主义和瑰丽的视觉奇观突破了战后波兰学派（Polish School）政治表达和浪漫英雄主义的套路，成为卓然不群的艺术电影。而它那神秘主义的气质和幽微的隐喻则在此后近半个世纪中始终激励着新的阐释。作为导演，哈斯的追随者包括布努埃尔、马丁·斯科塞西和科波拉。在当代导演帕夫利科夫斯基（《修女艾达》、《冷战》）看来，哈斯也许是自那个时代以来最有才华的波兰导演（probably the most talented Polish director since the way），是“不为人知的天才”（a completely unrecognizable genius）。哈斯的电影融合了德国表现主义，黑色电影，法国新浪潮和超现实主义，而代表作《砂制时镜下的疗养院》则是此中典范：超现实主义、表现主义、现代主义、后现代主义……不要试图用一种风格总结它。

电影主线来自波兰作家舒尔茨的同名小说，讲述约瑟夫乘火车来到父亲的疗养院，最终回到火车成为一名列车员的故事。本片给观影者的第一印象是神秘难解的氛围。舒尔茨的犹太背景，作品中的超现实元素和荒诞氛围常使人们将他与卡夫卡相提并论。但与卡夫卡简练的文字不同，舒尔茨的写作极尽繁复和通感，无休止地抛出层层叠叠的景观（spectacle）。《砂制时镜下的疗养院》则以无与伦比的布景和艺术指导呈现了这些景观。

在疗养院中，约瑟夫经历了仿佛爱丽丝漫游仙境般的旅途。疗养院残破不堪，遍地蛛网，却是联系过去和现在，死和生的通道。每当约瑟夫推开一扇门，跳过一堵墙，甚至只是往窗外一望，便坠入了另一个时空。

他看到盛大的集市，连绵不绝的店铺，欢腾的人群；看到街道萧条，墓碑纵横，人烟凋零；看到西装革履的人顶着五彩斑斓的鸟头，堂而皇之地穿行；看到深色皮肤的雇佣兵机械地移动；看到觥筹交错，席上食物形状可疑；看到童年记忆中的宝书被用来包肉；看到记忆中的女孩，满腹牢骚的父亲和同样怨念的母亲。

在某个瞬间，约瑟夫进入父亲曾居住的阴森斗室。父亲与鸟为邻，背景浓重的黑蓝色调和父亲的白衣白发间的对比产生了恐怖的效果。但谁能说这一幕不美呢？大鸟展开双翅，阴影宛若黑夜。父亲眼中狡黠之光愈盛。此情此景一定会使你想起《银翼杀手》中相似场景惊心动魄的美感。而本片比银翼杀手还要早十年。

而在另一个瞬间，约瑟夫似乎是随意走进一个山洞，满地落叶的荒凉映衬着摆设和装饰的华丽。蜡像们五光十色，栩栩如生。与前面提到的场景相反，该场景是温暖的饱和色调为主，大朱大紫，明黄夺目。但蜡像的僵硬和静止使整个场景诡异瘆人。

色彩的使用成为神秘氛围的关键因素。众人祈祷一节中，教堂彩色花窗折射出紫色向粉色、红色的过渡，渲染出梦幻般的氛围。

而另一处，约瑟夫隔窗看到妖艳女子脱衣，另一侧门附近的蓝绿色调和而女子房间内的大红色调相辅相成，暧昧气氛扑面而来。

《砂制时镜下的疗养院》诚然是一部谜一般的作品，也因而为观影和解读提供了丰富的空间。本片最大的概念，毫无疑问，是时间。我们可以反复颠倒沙漏，但沙子的总量不变。而疗养院内的时间仿佛也是如此——时间被困在了疗养院这个空间内。疗养院外，约瑟夫的父亲已经死去，而在这里，他尚有生息。仿佛颠倒沙漏般，这里提供了回到某个时间点的可能性，在其中的某个点，父亲可能康复。这是一种对时间的创造性体验。

所谓“日出而作，日落而息”，工业革命以前的时间观是朴素的、直观的、模糊的。工业革命则改变了一切。生产的发展要求效率的提高，紧随火车出现了车次表。抓住时间，分秒必争，是我们熟悉的时间观。但在疗养院里，这种时间观被放弃了。人们大部分时间在昏睡，以延缓生命的流逝。“时间这种不受约束的元素，唯有通过不懈的教导、关怀备至的照顾，以及煞费苦心的规训和矫正，其顽劣方可被驾驭。”

但是，在约瑟夫的漫游中，他体验到驾驭时间的荒谬，进而拒绝“二手时间”。旅途中的景象，或是记忆，或是幻想，或是梦境——其实，这三者本就不可分割——视觉化了一个已经消亡的世界，一段已经逝去的时光。正因其已经消亡，才唯有通过梦境抵达。但这种抵达是徒劳的，历史人物的蜡像，僵尸般的士兵，游魂般的路人，皆笼罩在死亡的气息中。狂欢和迷醉是短暂的，约瑟夫归根结底漫游在逝者的王国。正如哈斯所言，这是关于死亡的梦境。

“那是不是足值的时间，从这里流过的真实时间，有如新布匹上展开的时间，充满新鲜和染料气味的芳香？恰恰相反，它完全是用过的时间，是人们磨损的时间。这时间破烂不堪，千疮百孔，如筛子般通通透透。”

过去的不可翻转和了无生气指向历史的不可救赎。疗养院看似解放了时间，实则将人抛入巨大的随机性之中。理论上存在着回到那个指向父亲康复的时刻的可能，而就个体而言却不啻于时间的牢笼。如果改变的力量不能伴随回到过去而来，如果永恒复返只是无意义的重复，那么永恒比死亡更加可怕。历史是散布死人蜡像的画廊，活人穿行期间。于是，在影片最后，哈斯离开疗养院，却是从地下走出，当他缓缓向上走去，我们看到散落的墓碑和密密麻麻的蜡烛燃烧。抵达没有带来救赎，顶多是为过去写下墓志铭。

“够了！把爪子从时间上挪开！时间不可触碰！侵犯时间罪大恶极！空间才属于我们。在空间里，你可以随意来去，可以翻筋斗，颠倒扑腾，从一颗星星蹦到另一颗星星上……但看在上帝的分上，别碰时间！”

影片始于一列死气沉沉的火车，以森森荒冢为终。这列火车一定会使你想起二战中，运送犹太人到集中营的火车。此外，西装革履的人们梦游般的祈祷、约瑟夫从地下爬出目睹街上人们匆匆逃离等场景都似乎含有某种政治隐喻。

在疗养院的穿梭中，约瑟夫的身体和灵魂分崩离析，似乎指向在二战和大屠杀前后，波兰及犹太文化消亡的历史。很多评论家指出，本片也是对大屠杀创伤和被压抑的意识的审视。影片改编自波兰犹太作家布鲁诺·舒尔茨（Bruno Schulz）的多部短篇小说。舒尔茨1892年生于加利西亚（Galicia）地区的Drohobych小镇，1942年死于纳粹枪杀。而导演哈斯，1925年生于同属加利西亚地区的克拉科夫，同样拥有一位犹太父亲。舒尔茨是二战的亲历者，他的写作反复书写父亲和童年回忆。而《砂制时镜下的疗养院》的时间设定可模糊推测为二战后，可视为哈斯对父辈的世界和历史的思考。换言之，哈斯将舒尔茨的私人回忆拓展为对整个时代的内省和反思。

不过，归根结底，我们或许不必执着于某种隐喻或阐释。静下心来，跟随约瑟夫的脚步，走进他的回忆，触摸他的幻想，聆听他的梦呓。由此，也许在某个瞬间，我们也会开启通往过去的时空大门，回到某个时刻的自己。

开往疗养院的列车上，每个乘客都沉默不语，毫无生气，这是一场赴死的旅程，而人在死亡前回溯过往的人生似乎是最恰当的仪式。影片里这个走下火车，来到阴森破败布满蛛网的疗养院的男人一直在寻找父亲，他也找到了父亲，一具躺在病床上的躯体，一开始他就被医生告知父亲处于濒死状态已久，而随后的剧情里父亲总会在不同的时空或人生片段里以不同的年龄与面貌出现，同时，生命里的其他乘客也会不断出现，在这个如梦魇般的疗养院里。衣衫不整的漂亮女护士、无从下口的食物、年迈的母亲和后来遇见的年轻的看起来放浪的母亲。每当男人进入一个新的房间或是来到一个新的地点甚至是翻过一堵墙抑或是从墙洞处窥视时，都会来到或见到另一个时空和时空里不同年份的“老熟人”，包括布满人型傀儡的政治隐喻极强的房间以及总是出现的象征着新生的鸟蛋等等。这样一种打破线性叙事的碎片化段落呈现方式也更加契合了精神之旅的主题。整部影片从影像质感和政治性上都有着一股子捷克超现实主义电影的味道，虽然这片子是波兰的，但总是让我想到一众捷克片子，比如朱拉·亚库比斯克的《鸟、孤儿和愚人》以及祖拉契克的《为年轻刽子手辩护》等等之类的片子。最后男人由开始的乘客变为了列车员，迎接着下一辆到来的列车和乘客，由生到死，整部影片可以说是处于灵魂出窍的视角，一种濒死状态。