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马克(🔊)（(📓)科斯(🧛)塔(📧)斯(sī(📺) )·(🛠)曼迪(🔄)勒(🥍) Costas Mandylor 饰）(🏪)自(🎤)(zì )幼就(🥂)想成(ché(🧠)ng )为一名(⛑)(míng )糕点(😬)师，可是(🔹)，他(tā )的家人(rén )显然并不(bú )支持这一幼稚的梦想。当(dāng )叔叔决(jué )定把家里(lǐ )的糕点店(diàn )卖掉时(shí )，马克知(zhī )道自己(jǐ )的梦想正在离自己(jǐ )越来越(yuè )远。一次(cì )偶然之中，马克尝到了一(yī )种(🕍)名为(wé(🐮)i )巴洛兹(🚰)巧(qiǎo )克(😿)力(🖥)蛋糕(👤)(gā(🕟)o )的甜(💀)点(🈷)(diǎn )，他(📥)的(🤛)梦(mè(🌅)ng )想(💟)再次(🤒)被(🙋)融化(🏤)在(💼)口中(🚘)的(⏯)美(měi )味(🐌)给点(diǎ(🧜)n )燃了，他(😆)(tā )决定(📮)放弃现(🔹)有的(de )一切，去(qù )学习制(zhì )作这种蛋糕。 故事(shì )发生在(zài )伦敦一所(suǒ )破旧的公寓中，那里住着(zhe )三个年(nián )轻人——AK（尤金·哈茨 Eugene Hutz 饰(shì )）、霍利(lì )（赫丽(lì )·威斯顿 Holly Weston 饰）和朱(zhū )丽叶特(tè )（薇(📔)琪·麦(🍔)克卢尔(🍁) Vicky McClure 饰）。AK拥(🕉)有(🧟)着成(🐗)(ché(⛸)ng )为摇(🍻)滚(🌊)(gǔn )巨(😿)星(🛒)的梦(🕝)想(🤭)，同时(🌺)(shí(🐨) )，醉心(🚐)(xī(🏄)n )于霍(🔏)利(🕖)的(de )他希(🦈)望某一(💀)日能够(🌔)得到后(📢)(hòu )者的(🥄)垂(chuí )青，而热(rè )爱芭蕾舞(wǔ )的霍利(lì )一心做着(zhe )进入皇(huáng )家芭蕾舞团成为职(zhí )业舞者(zhě )的美梦。朱丽叶特则希望有一天能(néng )够远赴(fù )非洲，帮(bāng )助那里的(de )贫困儿(ér )童。 A typical Nazi-era melodrama, The Comedians features a strong-willed female protagonist who refuses to live according to the rules of society. Naturally, such revolutionary behavior must be punished by death and the film's Karoline suffers the fate of so many heroines of the Third Reich. That this heavy-handed nonsense was directed by the same genius who gave the world Pandora's Box (1928) is nearly incomprehensible but, if nothing else, The Comedians offered employment for Henny Porten, a silent screen star otherwise more or less blacklisted by the regime. To her eternal credit, Porten delivers a finely tuned performance despite what must have been extremely difficult circumstances. 深泽(zé )雅仁（竹野内(🚉)丰 饰）(💷)和妻(qī(🎗) )子庆子(⛔)(zǐ(🛷) )（水(🐪)野(👞)美(mě(💣)i )纪(🤺) 饰）(🚎)共(🌈)同经(⬅)营(🎤)着一(🚂)间(🛅)小(xiǎ(🏠)o )小(🏝)的照(💯)(zhà(🖨)o )相馆，带(🦀)着儿子(🚙)英(yīng )治(🐚)（广(guǎ(🐴)ng )田亮平(🤞) 饰(shì )）(😩)与女儿绘里奈（吉田里(lǐ )琴 饰），四口之(zhī )家过着平(píng )静但充(chōng )满了幸福(fú )的生活(huó )，近来，全家人都(dōu )在巨大(dà )的期待之(zhī )中，因为庆子腹中的小小(xiǎo )生命，这个家庭(tíng )新的一员(🍈)(yuán )即将(🔴)诞(dàn )生(📶)。 Sergio Martino's 1973 poliziotteschi The Violent Professionals aka Milano Trema – La Polizia Vuole Giustizia doesn't exactly reinvent the wheel, but it's one of the better examples of an overpopulated genre, with Luc Merenda playing the typical shoot-first-so-you-don't-have-to-ask-questions-later maverick cop after the gang that killed his boss and several innocent bystanders. Like I said, it doesn't exactly reinvent the wheel, but it does make sure it keeps turning fairly efficiently for 104 minutes. It's not as good as its enthusiastic cult reputation implies, not least because the big twist about the motive behind a series of gratuitously violent bank robberies isn't exactly surprising (like the Red Brigades of the day, the robbers are more interested in spreading chaos than getting rich), but it does get extra points for being one of the few films where, when a car crashes over a hill, it doesn't explode in a ball of fire on the way down. There's also a great spin on the omnipresent car-driving-through-stacks-of-empty-crates shot in one chase scene by having Merenda's car drive through stacks of burning crates that was so popular the footage was reused in at least two other movies (Milano Odia: La Polizia Non Può Sparare and Roma a Mano Armata). Richard Conte is the contractually obligatory American co-star, acquitting himself well despite some hilariously obvious doubling in a fight scene, Tinto Brass regular Martine Brochard makes an attractive junkie and there's a catchy De Angelis brothers score. imdb编(😔)号(🕯)应该(🤙)是(💻)这个(🔰)tt0211653 Included in Jonathan Rosenbaum’(⛴)s list of 1000 essential films, Parviz Kimiavi’s The Mongols (1973) is a leftfield satire and sharp commentary on the expanding presence of cinema and television in Iran. The story follows a filmmaker, played by Kimiavi himself and also named Parviz, as he struggles with both his own film and a looming assignment to oversee the installation of a television relay station in the remote province of Zahedan. Imbued by his wife’(🐫)s thesis work on the Mongol invasion of Iran, Parviz’(💛)s anxieties coalesce and materialize in the form of surreal visions in which the origins of cinema are acted out by the Turkomans he hired to play Mongols in his own film. Together with Parviz, we watch as the would-be gang of Mongols wander the desert in search of their director and the answers to their pressing questions about the nature of cinema, all while the forthcoming introduction of television consumes the local village and its inhabitants. Kimiavi fashions a fantastical cinematic space rife with bizarre metaphoric imagery and Godardian references to film-making in order to draw a sarcastic parallel between the Mongol invasion and the hyper-accelerated modernization of 1970s Iran.