男人無(wú)老婆，養(yǎng)只狗也能行。片子講述一只狗和主人的伴侶生涯。這只狗最后先走一步，卻讓主人寫(xiě)了一本書(shū)來(lái)紀(jì)念，兩個(gè)家伙都能由此名垂青史，也不辜負(fù)十幾年的同甘共苦。本以為這樣的作品應(yīng)該煽情至觀(guān)眾黯然淚下，結(jié)果卻是一個(gè)冷靜得讓人到處找癢癢撓兒的結(jié)局。這樣的手筆確實(shí)挺英國(guó)的。

片子里面有很多很露骨的狗的性生活，畫(huà)得不失幽默，但是這部分內(nèi)容有點(diǎn)拖沓，看著看著不知道自己到底是在看人狗伙伴關(guān)系，還是在看動(dòng)物色情片。給狗找對(duì)象成了電影的主要部分，伴隨的是主人啰嗦怪癖的性格。那個(gè)絮叨勁兒確實(shí)讓人想起常在英國(guó)公園里轉(zhuǎn)悠，穿著皺了吧唧的西裝，在寒風(fēng)里用手絹嗚嗚地擤鼻涕的英國(guó)老大爺。

片子從頭到尾有旁白講述，動(dòng)畫(huà)仿佛是插圖。說(shuō)是傳統(tǒng)風(fēng)格，卻也有形式上的突破?？傮w感覺(jué)，動(dòng)畫(huà)設(shè)計(jì)有很多有意思的細(xì)節(jié)。畫(huà)面中有很多英國(guó)元素，紅公共汽車(chē)、黑色出租車(chē)、泰晤士河，還有那個(gè)有名的Batersea電廠(chǎng)....一看就是要給美國(guó)人看的片子。不過(guò)，居然出現(xiàn)明顯的史實(shí)錯(cuò)誤：那種后開(kāi)口的紅色公共汽車(chē)（Routemaster)是在1956年才開(kāi)始在倫敦使用的。在此之前雖然也有Routemaster，但是應(yīng)該是有門(mén)，或者是前面開(kāi)口的。而不是電影里面后面開(kāi)口的這種。而這部片子的原作在1956年就完成了。片子一開(kāi)始有作者采訪(fǎng)丘吉爾的鏡頭，說(shuō)明應(yīng)該是戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)時(shí)期就有了這個(gè)狗。原作一直寫(xiě)到狗去世，所以狗在紅汽車(chē)誕生之前就去世了。電影所涉及的年份根本不應(yīng)該有紅公共汽車(chē)。

嘿嘿

大家在哪找到的，網(wǎng)上好像是沒(méi)有。有知情者聯(lián)系我。

郵箱：thehives@aladd.net

It was Roger Ebert's highly favorable review led me to this little animation dog film, adapted by Paul Fierlinger and Sandra Fierlinger from J.R.Ackerley's 1956 memoir with the same title, voice over by Christopher Plummer, Lynn Redgrave and Isabella Rossellini. Released June 10, 2009.

It's a story about companionship between an old lonely man with his unruly female German shepherd dog whom he had rescued in her 18th month in 1947. The story is told in such a minute way involving every detail of the canine bodily function: almost one third of the length was on urinating and defecating, remaining two third was mating detail -- for someone never have kept a pet before these too intimate informaton made me more than a little uncomfortable, ha, my bad. However the film is thoroughly enjoyable, the painting are beautiful and simple done by paperless system but retains a strong hand-drawn flavour, the odd and dry humour permeated through the film prevented it being ever oversentimental, and what counts the most, it touches that string deep in our hearts that in this overcrowded and lonely world, all we need is love, wherever we can find it.

Quotes:

Unable to love each other, the English turn naturally to dogs.

It seems to me, both touching and strange, that she should find the world so wonderful.

Whatever blunders I may have commited in my management of my animal's life, she lived on to the great age of sixteen and half. I was a bit drained in spirit when Tulip came into my hands, and the fifteen years she lived with me turned into the happiest of my life. She entered my life when I was quite over 50, and she entirely transformed it. She offered me what I have never found in my life with humans, constant single-hearted incorruptable uncritical devotion, which it is in the nature of dogs to offer. She placed herself entirely under my control. Looking at her sometimes in her later years, I used to think that the ideal friend whom I no longer wanted, perhaps never wanted, would have the mind of my Tulip. Always at one's service through the devotion of a faithful and uncritical beast, are not all human contacts based upon one person's wish to claim the affairs of another? Everyone it seemes wishs everyone else different from what they are.

What strained and anxious lives dogs must lead, so emotionally involved in the world of human, whose affections they strive endlessly to secure, whose authority they are expected unquestioningly to obey, and whose mind they can never do more than imperfectly reach and comprehend. Stupidly loved, stupidly hated, acquired without thought, reared and rules wihtout understanding, passed on or 'put to sleep' without care, did they, I wondered, these descendants of the creatures who, thousands of years ago in the primeval forests, laid siege to the heart of man, took him under their protection, tried to tame him, and failed...did they suffer from headaches?

    For as long as I could remember, I had been searching for an ideal friend. But I have never really found the person who fitted my exacting requirements. There was always some flaw, too tall, too short, too outgoing, too shy, too insecure, too independent... As the years passed and the opportunities grew fewer, I had a mental image of the ideal friend as a plain jug containing a delightful mix of good companionship and intellectual stimulation, the shape, age and size of which no longer had any importance for me. I still felt that if I only turned this corner instead of that or boarded this bus rather than that one, I would find the ideal friend waiting for me and that we would reconize each other at once after the exchange of a few words. Ah, and a further complication was that I did not want anyone to think that I was pursuing them. It was therefore necessary to encounter the ideal friend face-to-face, which is not easy if you happen both to be moving in the same direction.