意外精彩的BBC纯独白剧集
没有背景音乐 没有场景画面 只有一个人坐在面前讲述
每集都只有十几分钟但却都是十分深入内心的故事 代入感强到可以让我缓半天 因此也花了将近半个月的时间去细细品味每一个故事
每位演员从神态到语调到肢体无不彰显细节
台本用词也很考究 常常让人停下回味或是查词典
从LGBT角度分析 剧中包含近代以来英国该群体外部生存环境改善的许多重要时间节点 在关注故事的同时也了解了人文历史 故事本身也都具有一定深度
个人来说真的太爱了 很英国 很BBC
最后为Fantopia字幕组打call 包含摘要式时间点相关背景介绍 以及地道双语字幕 剧末的滚动字幕也完全打动我
片尾钢琴曲也百听不厌 必须五星~
我刚刚看了第一集,本喵视角,讲述一战中两个青年Perce和Captain Leslie的故事。 看完之后我就忍不住看了第二次。因为第一次看的过程中我一直在想,哎哟喂,如果我的英文再好一点就好了,完全不想把视线从本喵的脸上移开。为什么以前我从来不知道,讲述者的演技在一部纪录片里担当着如此重要的角色? 但是话说回来,《Queers》又是一部别开生面的纪录片。它那么温暖,那么美好,那么...不冷静不客观,想想仿佛是我看过的最含情脉脉的纪录片。暖黄色的灯光打在本喵的侧脸上,他时而压抑时而兴奋时而悲伤到难以控制的眼光透过镜头望向我们。一场独白仿佛成了亲密老友间的呢喃。 他细细地述说着Perce1895年在火车站月台眼见着王尔德因为“与其他男性发生有伤风化的行为”被捕的场面。眼神的对接让他们一瞬间看清了彼此,他惊惧,他害怕自己最后落得同样的下场。在那个恐同的年代,他与Captain Leslie的恋情注定无法善终。但是故事的结尾,他又来到了火车站,见到了在月台上站着的Captain。在一片黑暗之中,他握住了Perce的手,放到嘴边细细亲吻,留恋不舍。“那一刻,没有火车,没有部队,没有战争,只有他的嘴唇紧贴在我的手指上。” 多么悲伤而美好,多么绝望而幸福的结局。 Captain Leslie为Perce创造了新的属于火车站的记忆,即便过了许多年,他对当时的细节依旧记得清清楚楚,他一提到这段,眼眶中依旧充满狂喜与爱恋。 “以爱为名,你永远活在我的记忆里。”
说句题外话,Perce的爱人和哥哥竟分享了同一个名字。本喵,哥哥,王尔德三个身处不同时代不同国度的同性恋者在一段故事中隔空相遇!想到这个故事外的美丽的巧合,我简直都要热泪盈眶了。
剧本来源:BBC官方网站 搬运/侵删
Queers. s01e01 Episode Script
Douglas Fairbanks there thinks he's in with a chance.
A bit of company on a wet Friday night.
Except old Dougie doesn't have a cast in his eye and a built-up shoe.
At least, not last time I was at the flickers.
It's always the eyes.
That's how you know.
A glance held just that little bit too long, dragged off to one side, like the trail of a Very light in the dark.
After the do, the, um, interview .
.
the officer asks me, not unkindly, I must say, "So how do you chaps, "chaps like you and the captain, know one another?" So I told him.
Not my words, something somebody said to me once.
"A certain liquidity of the eye.
" That's how HE knew.
My eyes are bad, mind you.
Too bad for shooting Prussians at any rate, so I was shunted onto hospital work.
"Cushy", says Sam.
"That's a charabanc holiday, Perce.
"You always wanted to see France, didn't you?" I remember my first day in resus - the resuscitation tent.
That's where they take the dying or the nearly dying and the shocked ones.
There's heated beds to put some life back into them, and transfusions.
Our guns were going hell for leather.
The sky was all lit up - powdery, green.
Horrible green.
Like the air was sick.
Star shells, Verys, dumps going up.
And then the ambulances come in and we have to ferry them in, the ones that can't walk.
And they've got these labels on them that tell you what's wrong with them.
Like left luggage.
Have you ever carried a stretcher? Bloody horrible.
You feel like your arms are going to pop out of their sockets.
Some chaps can get very heavy.
Those that can walk into the hospital .
.
are covered in mud and salt sweat.
Caked in it.
All stiff and cracked, like moving statues, like those poor fuckers in Pompeii what got covered in lava.
I've seen photographs of them in the lending library.
And then, in the resus tent, a thing you'd never expect.
Silence.
Not a moan or a groan.
They're beyond all that, I suppose, most of them.
Smoking, breathing, just about.
Mind you, I've seen what a transfusion can do and it is a bloody miracle.
Lads with one foot in the grave and their pulses all thready, they have the transfusion, they're up, they're joking, they're having a smoke in a couple of hours.
I said to Captain Leslie, I said, "You wouldn't credit it, would you? "It's like It's like witchcraft.
" "Sounds about right", he says, "since we're in hell.
" But he says it with a smile and when he does that there's these creases in his cheeks like ripples in the sand.
"You're a credit to this unit, Percy", he says to me.
"You've all the tenderness of a woman.
" And he shakes my hand.
"It's Terrence," he says and I says, "What is?" He says, "Me.
"My name.
Terence Lesley.
"Do call me Terence.
"I can't bear all this formal rot.
" But he's an officer and it don't seem right, so, "I'll stick to Captain Leslie," I say, "if it's all the same.
" He just smiles again and shrugs.
And his eyelashes are long.
Long and blonde.
I can't see much of his hair cos it's under his cap, but then one day I'm bringing in a stretcher .
.
and he takes his hat off and, just like that, his hair tumbles out.
Yellow as corn.
And I must have stared because he grins at me and pushes his hair out of his eyes and says, "Come along, Perce, stir your stumps.
" But I don't move.
And just for a bit Well, like I say, held just a just a moment too long.
Douglas Fairbanks over there will give me a wink in a minute.
There you go.
HE SIGHS KNOWINGLY I've always been a skinny bugger, me.
Thin as a whip, Mother says.
Father was the same.
Mother always had a bit more beef on her after she had Albert and me, and there was one before us.
A boy.
But he died.
He was called Percy, an' all.
Poison berries.
Never think a thing like that can happen, but it does.
I can remember Mother showing me the pictures in the medicine book, all shiny and glossy pictures like Jesus in the book at Sunday School.
And little Percy had grabbed a handful of these berries and .
.
that was that.
Box, I think, the berries.
Black, like little bullets.
Like liquorice sweeties.
Maybe that's what little Percy thought they was.
Anyway, they done for him and then, a year or so after that, along comes I and they call me Percy, too.
A bit odd, some might say, a bit morbid, but Mother always said that she could see him in me.
And she looks so funny when she says that to me .
.
and she looks so sad.
But I don't think it's just because of little Percy because there was another time she looked at me the same way.
It was freezing, I remember that.
We was waiting for a train.
Dad had some business in Reading, I forget what it was.
We were to come with and make a day of it.
I was 15, thereabouts.
Albert was 12.
I'd been dispatched in search of tea and buns.
They all sat in the waiting room, steam coming off them like wet dogs.
Anyway, I'm on my way to the refreshments and there's a commotion, so I think, "Oh, the train must be coming in," so I say to the girl behind the tea stall, pretty girl I remember with bows in her hair, I ask her to get a shift on.
She says, "What's the hurry? The Reading train isn't in for another "quarter of an hour.
" So I think, "What's all the fuss about, then?" And then I see it ahead of me on the platform.
Policemen, at least I think they're policemen, but then I look properly and they're not, they're from the jail.
Dark uniforms, little hats with shiny brims.
And between them, well, aa prisoner .
.
waiting to be taken away, I suppose.
And it's not the first time I've seen as such.
I used to see them a lot, poor bastards, shuffling along in their chains and the arrows on their clothes.
And it's rough clobber, like to make you itch, worse than this.
So, "Why are all these folk whispering and pointing?" I wonder.
So I look at the chap in the chains and he's a big chap, sort of like a big bear of a fella.
With a big slack, pouchy face.
Fat-ish, except it's all sunk in now, and his hair, which was most likely black as your hat is now shot through with grey.
And he looks wretched.
As well he might.
There's rain dripping off his hair and down the creases in his big face.
And then I realise, it's not just rain, he's bloody crying.
And then he looks at me.
And there it was.
In that moment .
.
a certain liquidity of the eye.
And then he looks back down at his boots and it's as if the whole world has come tumbling down around him.
I stand there.
And I think, "He knows me.
"He knows me for what I am.
"He can see it in me.
" And I start to shake.
And it's not from the cold, it's shame.
And fear and .
.
terror.
And someone starts laughing.
And there's a little girl and she's wandered close to the prisoner.
She's got a little wooden horse on a dirty bit of string.
And then her mother goes up and drags the girl away from the man as if he were like to eat her up.
And then I hear it, a name.
Whispered behind fancy gloves and November hands what are stiff with cold.
"It's him, isn't it?" And suddenly Dad's beside me and he's gripping my arm and he says, "You all right, Perce?" And he's proper worried.
And there's a sort of ringing noise in my ear and I feel for a moment like I might faint, but then this chap goes straight up to the prisoner on the platform and he He spits in his face.
And Dad looked shocked.
And just then, the train comes puffing into the station, steam everywhere.
And I look back to the prisoner, but he's covered now in a great big cloud of steam.
Dad picks up the tea and the buns and he gets us into the carriage.
It smells of damp wool and musty, like church, and there's little beads of rain on the window, the open window.
And Mum pulls down the leather strap and the sound sort of .
.
snaps me out of it.
"What was all that fuss about there, Clem?" And Dad sups at his tea and it hangs in little drops from the ends of his Kitchener 'tashe.
"You won't believe it," he says.
"Out there on the platform, waiting to be taken to prison" "Who?" pipes up Albert.
And he looks at us and he shakes his head in wonder.
"Oscar Wilde!" he says.
And then Mum looks at me.
Tender, like I've never had the nerve.
That's the thing, I suppose.
A notion of getting in trouble or being a bother I could always imagine Mother's face if she found out I'd been up to things.
And I couldn't bear it, I couldn't bear to disappoint, so I didn't, I didn't do anything about it.
Not even a tuppeny wank with Sam or nothing.
I kept my own counsel, as they say.
Also, there was a girl who was sweet on me.
Annie.
And that sort of stopped people asking, I suppose.
We courted for a long while, but she got fed up because I never asked her to marry me.
I took on like Annie had broke my heart and then, what with one thing or another and then the war, it sort of, somehow, I got away with it.
A lot of questions, of course.
Especially when all us Tommies were billeted together for the first time.
"You married?" "No.
" "You got a girl?" "Well, I used to.
" And then one day, in Amiens, there was a sort of lull.
Hot as hell it was.
Not what you think.
People think of all that mud and rain, but we was there the live long year and sometimes it was hot and parched.
Fucking flies everywhere.
Blue and green bellies on them.
Fat.
Great clouds of them because of the dead bodies.
And Captain Leslie comes up to me and he slaps me on the shoulder and he says, "Come along, Perce, we're going hunting.
" And I say, "What?" He says, "Butterflies", because we're camped on this sort of downland.
And there's marigolds and poppies all over, little splashes of colour.
I can still taste the dust.
Chalky in your mouth and your hair and .
.
on the Dunlop tyres like white paint, because Terrence had only gone and got us bicycles, the silly bugger.
And it was only for a few hours but you could forget, you know, for a bit, everything that was going on.
And we came to this sort of lake.
It was a crater hole, I suppose, and the water was glass green and clear like a perfume bottle.
And Terence, he starts hollering and rattling the bike down to the water and he pulls off all his clothes and in he goes.
I follows, and then we go splashing about in our birthday suits.
And he's brick red from the sunshine, but not where his shirt's been, so he's got this sort of red face and arms, and the rest of him is He's like a ghost.
And after we've swum about, we just lie in the grass and fall asleep.
You can hear the buzz of the flies, but they are way off and some of the ones that are closer are butterflies, so that's all right, and I just .
.
lie there and I watch Terence sleeping and .
.
his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
And his hair is golden.
And the line of his jaw is just sort of .
.
perfect.
Like a draughtsman's drawn it.
Like I'd drawn it.
And his lips are dark and full and they're like bramble.
And all I want to do is bend down and And he opens his eyes .
.
and squints.
And he lifts his hand to cover them so he can see better.
And he says, "We'd best be getting back.
" We all had on us the stench of death.
The bread we ate, the stagnant water, everything we touched had a rotten smell.
But that day, everything was OK.
It was bright.
And it was pure, you see? And nobody had seen, had they? I've done my bit.
The officer mentioned that.
Exemplary service.
When he took me aside for a quiet word.
And of course, what had Terence and me What had the Captain and me .
.
got up to? Sweet FA.
But someone had seen us and .
.
they thought, "Hello, what's going on here?" And it's bad for morale and all of that, so I was to be sent elsewhere.
And, of course, I didn't get to see the Captain, did I? Because he'd been transferred, too.
I was packed onto this carriage .
.
sweat and tobacco smelling and fellas pushing up against you and shoving for room, and the train gives a great big lurch and then it starts off.
I just sit down on the floor and pull me cap over me eyes and drift off.
I don't know how much time has passed, but I wake up and it's dark outside.
And the train's pulling into a station and in the carriage it's just these little night lights on - bluey.
They make everyone look three-parts dead.
And the train pulls into the station and it's going slow, like, puffing, like some of them boys in the resus tent.
And then, I do see him.
Terence.
He's out the window, on the platform.
Grey coat, hair tucked under his cap, neat.
And he's talking to someone.
And they must have made him laugh cos there's those little lines in his cheeks again.
But he don't see me.
So I push through the carriage past the other fellas and it's not easy now cos most have dropped off and I trip over some poor bugger and he curses me, but I make it to the window and I pull down the sash .
.
and the air outside is warm.
And all I want to do is wave.
But, of course, what can I say? Um "So long, Captain Leslie?" "So long, Perce.
" But then he does see me.
He glances over, but he's still talking to his pal and just then the train lurches forward.
The brakes go on and the blue lights go out and just like that, pitch-black.
And all the other fellas in the carriage start groaning and someone says, "Oh, here we fucking go," but all I can feel is my heart beating and the air.
And the darkness pressing against the window and my hand gripping the window ledge.
And then someone takes my hand.
Someone outside on the platform.
And it's Terence.
And he takes my hand and he just .
.
lifts it to his lips and he kisses it.
There's no train then, there's no troops, there's no war.
There's just his bramble lips pressed against the tips of my fingers .
.
and all the hair on my neck goes up on end.
And then the train lurches forward and he's let go of my hand and all the blue lights go on, and Outside there's nothing but steam.
Steam and darkness.
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Queers. Episode Scripts | More Television Show Episode Scripts
“来啊,珀西。我们去狩猎。” “什么?” “蝴蝶啊。” 在亚眠,阳光强烈的日子,湖水绿得透明,香水樽般剔透。 酷儿们的第一集,Ben Whishaw的叙述覆盖面颇广,成长过程曾和女孩子作的尝试,身份的探索和无可回避,战争逼迫与生死直面,活在暗处的压抑还有如影随形的恐惧。 都讲得很清楚,却抵不过另一些细节生动:特伦斯的笑纹,睫毛,金发,他轮廓分明的下颌线。当然还有他的眼睛,如果不是那天望得稍微久了一点点。 好像这块块拼图有种自然温暖的色彩,传染着一丝明媚。 “他的下颌线很好看,仿佛是制图的画的。”短暂停顿,“仿佛就是我的手笔。” 镜头里的Whishaw, 让爱情突然间变得如此真实可信。或者爱情本来就很可信,只是少有人能在少少篇幅里,用有限光影,给观众的空间泼上无尽浪漫的颜色。 爱情果真像珀西说的那样安静,从一个眼神提起。 然后,仿佛从无要事,却震撼得只在乎月台上的对方,记不起世界尚有战争。 本来已经接受,自此会天各一方再见不到,所以珀西其后将更加明了,特伦斯并非碰巧在那个月台。当金发的男孩谈笑如常,似乎浑不在意珀西沉默的挥别。 车要开了。 原来他会过来牵起他的手,湖边阳光灿烂时未能吻下去的,在这片温暖的黑暗里完成。抓紧窗沿的珀西,等待的几秒里,他的徘徊,诚惶诚恐:眼角眉梢可否不要只是场误会?多得月台上的他英勇到最后,释放惶然般一吻,余生也已被解救得潇潇洒洒。 1917年潮湿的周五夜晚,珀西记得曾经热烈的天气。那天游泳后两人在草地里一齐进睡。 从此以后乱世很远,耳边更近的是蝴蝶。 'So that's all right.'
编剧太牛了 冲着编剧也会给五星
第一集 The Man on the Platform 1917
本喵在谈及 与Terrence 也许是第一次的对话时,眼中有着星星。
而当谈到他们在站台上最后一次见面时,Terrence吻了他的手,然后一切在因为火车启动的蒸汽中消散,就如他第一次见到穿着囚服的王尔德一般。
故事含蓄而内敛,但处处都有着伏笔照应,乍看有些平淡清水的情节,却暗暗道出了感情的力量。
第二集 A Grand Day Out 1994
1994年英国议会同意将同性恋合法行为下调至18岁,双方同意的同性恋行为就不算犯罪。这是在这个决议出来后的第二天,一位17岁的少年对昨晚发生的事情的回忆。
只是觉得这句台词说得很好, 接纳有种被同情的感觉。
当少年带着俏皮的声音读出他的名字
少年的表情很丰富,小动作也显得那么可爱。而且这一次的感情表达要直白得多。
看到第二集有种看历史变迁的感觉。
第三集 More Anger 1987
一位演员 但不论是谁,谈及工作大约也是这样无奈
当他知道同性恋角色没有生病的时候 感觉特别开心
Simen告诉他,他是positive
有种终于出现了一丝希望,然后绝望再一次降临的感觉。不知道还能说什么,就这些图吧。
第四集 Missing Alice 1957
1957年9月4日由沃芬敦爵士提交给英国政府一份报告,提出“同性恋不是一种病”以及“任何成年人之间,在相互允许的情况下,私下进行的同性恋行为不应该被认为是犯罪”。
真不知道妈妈说的这句话是暗示了后来娶她的Michael不是传统意义上的男人吗?
Michael向Alice坦白的时候也只是说 not woman 而不是 a man
最后在1957年 报告公布后 Michael还是离开了Alice
讲道理,emmm,也不知道能讲什么道理,就是这么一件事吧
第五集 I Miss the War 1967
在1967年,英国的英格拉和威尔士地区,法律正式取消了同性恋罪名,规定年满21岁,双方同意的同性恋行为不算犯罪
难得糊涂,也难得清醒得认识自我
并不觉得 充分利用拥有的东西 是一件可耻的事情
这句话也许应该广而扩之, 给那些无聊的人当作消遣
及时行乐
第六集 Safest Spot in Town 1941
1941 伦敦大轰炸
虽然有诸多歧视,但也有自己想要保护的人,为了自己想保护的事物而战
welcome back
第七集 The Perfect Gentleman 1929
1929年 全世界陷入一场经融危机,黄金从英国和欧洲源源不断流入美国
一个姑娘扮成了一位绅士
但当说到pass时 有种复杂的感觉
这句话说出来感觉在哭
谈及喜欢的人 眼中有光
第一次穿上男装
爱人迟迟不来
最后一个眼神 最后一个镜头
第八集 Something Borrowed 2016
2013年7月同性恋婚姻法颁布
对于婚姻,而非蛋糕
对啊,所以熊孩子都有自己的熊家长
hhhhh
看眼睛!!!
If happiness is a place
until death do us apart
最后一个故事真的很甜了
独角独白单元剧形式,考验演技,也易让观众审美疲劳。追了一个月还是感动满满~
突然哭泣!好喜歡小本和Fionn的两集
虽然歧视依然难以避免,但今天,我本老师作为万千酷儿中的一员,已经能够和男朋友结婚并过着幸福的生活了。感谢社会的发展。
不应该叫Queers吧 应该叫gays吧 减一星
没有火车 也没有部队和战争 只有他的嘴唇贴在我的手上
本喵的那集真的……专门又看了一遍把台词都抄下来了……本喵无可挑剔的演技在这部里得到了最好的诠释。有谁能做到对着镜头说话却像是真实地经过了一生一样……几乎就要信以为真 那个士兵 就是他自己
站台上电光火石的一吻足够照亮人生沉寂暗淡的许多年(但最棒的是公爵街的公爵夫人!
小本,小狼,敦刻尔克男主以及众多英国鲜肉出演,独白叙述百年英国同志历史。#同志骄傲月# 话说小本那个故事,他说出王尔德的名字的时候,我整个人都震惊了!小狼表演痕迹有点重,特别是知道真相后(但没关系只要帅就行),Fionn演得很好啊!又羞涩有真挚。当然几位老戏骨才是大牛!
刚看了第一集,真的是一部很特别的剧,全程是角色独白,很考验演技,细节很到位。是一部需要静下心来看的剧。我也是LGBT人士,所以能够理解角色的无奈心理。
只能说神剧。一集三个分景长镜,只有演员的自白。但是却能浮现出所有的画面——火车站蒸汽弥漫,战场的硝烟升腾,医院的哀嚎混乱还有河边的蝴蝶,宁静的下午。一个单纯用叙述和表演把观众带入第一视角的方法,很牛逼。
蝴蝶泉边葬金坛,目光如水水如愁。仰仗整个站台的蒸汽与整个车厢的黑暗方能成全的一个吻,可以说是对当时queers的处境很极致的隐喻了。
每集20分钟的独白,展现百年间这个群体的真实样貌和时代变化,静不下心来会很难看进去。借着大背景的第一个故事最隽永,黑暗中的亲吻、车站被捕的王尔德。后面的故事更生活,愤怒、欣喜、自嘲、恐惧、不甘……每集的独白抽出来可以当广播剧,入夜后循环播放。
Ok can we have more lesbians plz
为本喵打call!一集只有20分钟却有大量独白,需要一个人静下心来慢慢看。
可能全世界只有英国演员敢完全只靠独白撑起一部剧。感觉所有气味,温度,画面,故事都藏在那些哀伤的眼神和沉静的叙述里了。不知道是好久没见本喵,,还是他实在演得太好,第一集看完简直想哭T-T完结补:演员功力有高低,但无不感情真挚,悲戚欢快愤怒留恋沉醉宁静皆有之,深情言语筑就英伦百年LGBT史
本的演技已经修炼到不动声色突然开点小火力就能把人虐懵的程度了……
原本以为会是个像《When We Rise》那样激烈的同志平权斗争史,但是不是啊,很英国。固定长镜头下人物的大段大段的内心独白,所有的情绪、表情全都一览无遗,是与百年来形形色色queers的面对面的倾听和诉说。真的受不了看到本老师红眼眶,太让人心疼了T_T
So Golden. 有一种,无论娱乐再弄死多少人,人类文明还是会在英国保存下来的 幻觉
不知是因为基佬属性,还是因为独白形式的影响,感觉好多演员都表演的太dramatic了一点,前一秒忧伤,下一秒笑逐颜开……第四集Rebecca Front演/讲 的最好,温暖又忧伤,平淡中见深情
第一集,关于感情的细腻程度,你永远无法想象。