酷儿们

因题材原因，本文无法先发布在公众号。

感兴趣的童鞋可以去看看，豆瓣ID同名：Water森，一本杂志公众号。

看完8集，不同的角色去描绘queer群体的生活，非常地立体和多面。

我基于个人情感写一下我自己比较喜欢的E2,E3和E4.E2菲恩和马库斯的一夜，跟我自己的经历有些相似。

在中环的LINQ，我当时在等一个朋友。

由于酒吧里面空气很差很吵，于是我在店外坐着。

过了11点后外面的人渐渐多了起来，我没有跟谁搭讪，就在那坐着。

yeah,quiet bloke in corner.后来好像有个人慢慢靠近我，但是也没有主动说话。

借着酒意我就问他是在等人吗？

于是我们聊了一下，然后就哔哩吧啦地聊了很多，最后跟他回了公寓。

He's my first guy,a new zealand.我还没去看敦刻尔克，但是我觉得菲恩确实把十几岁男孩的娇羞，好奇与可爱诠释得很到位，我在他的自述里似乎看到了那一晚作为一个virgin的自己——犹豫，不知所措，对方很好，给自己的印象也是深刻一生的。

E3还没看之前，有张小狼的图片评论说他的表演so bad，但是我看了下截图还蛮喜欢。

我虽然并不是他的忠实fans，但也确实很喜欢他。

好不容易看到E3，觉得狼先生确实有点用力过猛了。

但是看在第二节的polo衫那么好看就先原谅他了。

直到最后一节，开口的第一句台词就hit到我了。

“两个人如果真的要在一起，确实得先坦诚相待。

”所以其实说他前面的表演太过，其实并不合适。

因为他本身饰演的就是一名演员，一名很想好好当演员的演员。

所以他在这里就是故意用他极度夸张的面部表情去表达他嬉皮笑脸下的more anger.这名演员的生活其实就是很多queer的生活缩影。

有个boring的ex，很心水的simon,bf也许经常去会所，自己是size queen,男友突然说是自己positive等等。

我在看的时候有点感觉这就是一些queer人群的一些特点，非常立体化，所以这也是我倒回去看最多的一集。

S4 很奇特的是，这集题目和背景交代的停留时间都比别的集要快上一两秒，却反而更抓住了我的注意力。

missing Alice，a good title.这是我最快进入状态的一集，当时特别精神还是怎么，但是最主要还是丽贝卡的表演。

很舒服，让你感觉很快就可以跟着她进入状态。

平铺的模式，交代了下自己，然后在教堂遇到了她的迈克尔。

结婚，无性的疑惑，发现，意外怀孕，放开观念，原谅，但是最后他还是离去了。

很平淡但我却全程在听她在叙事，仿佛她坐在我对面。

整集的连贯性最好的一集。

PS : 我真的好喜欢片头片尾曲公众号见啦，沃森！

看到第四集那里，最后Michael 对Alice 说这句话，然后背景音乐响起 真的鼻子一酸 脑袋一麻也许Alice 不是Michael 最爱的人 但她一定是Michael 最爱的女人这部剧真的太棒了 演员演技吊打 可以背下那么长的台词（近二十分钟）只靠言语和表情就被征服了过去的时代辛酸又凄美 对于这个群体 对于那些人 所以啊 从来就没有铺好的路 种好的树 现在他们享受到的自由与权利也是前人争取和付出得到的而在这个东方国度里 又还有多远呢

这个故事讲了一个微妙的主题：“禁忌”。

禁忌来自于外界的长期压迫和歧视，但这种禁忌早已被酷儿们内化成了内心的压抑和矛盾。

禁忌既给这位少年带来了喷薄的快感，又让他在快感之后全身心地担忧父母有没有在电视上看到自己。

这个故事虽然很简单，传递的信息却很丰富，不仅是禁忌的正反两面，还有许多其他矛盾多面的东西：在这个少年身上，有对不公的义愤，但也有赤裸裸的软弱；有迷惘不知方向（他对示威活动的描述，虎头蛇尾，并且几乎走题），但也有坚定和此志不渝（他无数次提到了自己的基友Sean，相当高级的告白啊）；有羞涩胆怯不敢言说（小哥儿连三明治好不好吃都不敢直说，再三地掩饰和改口），却也有直抒心声的勇气。

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

剧末滚动字幕（1）

剧末滚动字幕（2）片尾钢琴曲也百听不厌 必须五星～

第1集（推荐度：4/5）“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。

”因为Queers是一部同性恋去罪化50周年的献礼剧，所以我的预期是本剧会讲述大量压抑的、禁忌的、充满英伦风情的、刻骨铭心的、因为迫害而无疾而终的爱情故事。

第一集简直是完美地贴合了这种预期。

一场战争期间的爱情，没有表白，没有倾诉，没有爆发，没有结果，从头到尾只有英伦式的隐忍。

令人完美联想到《莫里斯的情人》、《故园风雨后》等英伦经典，哀而不伤，如梦似幻。

结尾处本卫肖流下一滴眼泪，并以上述这句话扔下高能煽情炸弹，于是我应声哭得稀里哗啦。

我以为这个剧就是这样了，我以为8集会是8个英伦悲剧爱情故事。

然而，接着看下去，其实完全不是。

第2集（推荐度：5/5）“如果他们同意了，如果他们改到16岁，昨晚我就会直接回家了。

”故事的背景是1994年英国国会把同性性行为合法年龄从21岁下调到18岁（而异性性行为合法年龄是16岁）。

一个17岁的同志少年参加了反对这一决策的示威活动，因此没能赶上回家的火车，于是他和一个在游行中认识的成年男人回家发生了性关系。

这个故事讲了一个微妙的主题：“禁忌”。

禁忌来自于外界的长期压迫和歧视，但这种禁忌早已被酷儿们内化成了内心的压抑和矛盾。

禁忌既给这位少年带来了喷薄的快感，又让他在快感之后全身心地担忧父母有没有在电视上看到自己。

这个故事虽然很简单，传递的信息却很丰富，不仅是禁忌的正反两面，还有许多其他矛盾多面的东西：在这个少年身上，有对不公的义愤，但也有赤裸裸的软弱；有迷惘不知方向（他对示威活动的描述，虎头蛇尾，并且几乎走题），但也有坚定和此志不渝（他无数次提到了自己的基友Sean，相当高级的告白啊）；有羞涩胆怯不敢言说（小哥儿连三明治好不好吃都不敢直说，再三地掩饰和改口），却也有直抒心声的勇气。

酷儿们和我们每个人一样，是复杂和矛盾的，他们当然不可能全部是脸谱化的、如梦似幻的本卫肖（我是指本卫肖在第一集中演的那个角色）。

第3集（推荐度：5/5）“难道我的心血，就只能放在档案馆里面腐朽吗？

”我觉得这个故事的主题是stereotype。

所谓stereotype，就是对一个人群的刻板的印象，外人非要把这个人群中的所有人都套到这个外人想象出来的框框里。

比如在这个故事中，小哥吐槽了社会对酷儿人群的各种stereotype：酷儿就等于艾滋病，酷儿角色在艺术作品中撑不到第18页就一定会得病死掉，他们在等死的途中必须对政府满怀愤怒；酷儿就是年轻无辜苍白瘦弱的娘炮，他们一定滥交，一定在悲剧的爱情故事中黯然神伤。

所以这位小哥的愿望，是接一个“正常”的酷儿角色，一个没有因为艾滋病死掉，就和其他普通角色一样有血有肉、有自己故事的酷儿角色。

这让我想起了很多年之前看《蓝宇》，看完觉得无比失望。

好无聊好俗套的爱情故事啊，这种故事不是可以发生在任何一对异性恋之间吗，同志的特点在哪里？

何必拍一部和任何异性恋故事毫无区别的同志片呢？

后来，似乎看到导演的访谈说，他就是想拍一个普通的爱情故事，这个故事里没有同志片“应该”要有的东西，比如被边缘化的身份。

他只想拍一部会发生在任何两个情侣之间的爱情故事，因为他们想要的其实就这么简单，就是能像普通人一样生活和恋爱而已。

在本集的故事里，小哥对这种stereotype十足反感。

他说不要你们假装关心我们，不要你们区别对待我们，我们得不得艾滋病跟你们没有一毛钱关系。

但最后，他的男友真的得了艾滋病，他感到天崩地裂，因为他无法继续活在自己躲藏的假象里。

原来酷儿群体中就是有很多人因为艾滋病死去，原来酷儿群体中就是有很多因为无法维持长期稳定关系而黯然神伤的爱情故事。

那些stereotype虽然讨厌，却是部分真实的；主流社会给予酷儿群体的特殊关注虽然讨厌，但也有有理有据的真实关怀在里面。

打破了这个魔咒以后，小哥从拒绝进行艾滋病测试，变成了定期检查；他从“我们过的超好，不要给我们廉价的同情”，变成了“其实我们过的并不好，你们根本不懂我们经历了些什么”。

于是我们明白，小哥一开始的否认和拒绝既是他的反抗，也是他自欺欺人的逃避。

甚至最后，他想象八十年代过去，艾滋病能被治愈，“同志等于艾滋病”的stereotype消失，他的感受竟然是：那我以前演的那些东西算什么，谁还会想看那些，我的心血就这样在档案馆里慢慢腐朽了吗？

Stereoptye是把双刃剑，区别对待的做法里事实上既有歧视也有关怀。

而作为被stereptype的对象，实际上既痛恨被区别对待，又害怕真正地被无差别对待（因为那样便失去了关注和特权）。

所以，在终于接到了一个和普通人一样会偷税漏税的“正常”酷儿角色以后，小哥最终的反应却是失望:因为那个角色真的太无聊了。

这集说的东西还是挺深刻的。

第4集（推荐度：5/5） “我会想你的，Alice。

”我觉得这是全剧中最妙的一集。

这个故事表现的是一个被歧视的少数族群和另一个被歧视的少数族群之间的微妙关系。

男方是不敢出柜的酷儿，女方先是未婚先孕被社会唾弃的失足妇女，后来又成了身心俱疲、有苦说不出的同妻。

这两个同样被歧视、被损害的人之间有同情和友谊，却也有冷酷的利用和赤裸裸的伤害。

作为一个失足妇女，在教堂里不配和家人坐在一起，只有Micheal愿意陪她坐在后排，愿意给她讲笑话。

我相信此时Micheal的行为不仅是为了骗婚，这些陪伴里有真正的同情和温柔，因为没有人比他更了解那种在日光下被耻辱炙烤的感觉有多么可怕。

也正是出于对这种炙烤的恐惧，男方选择了骗婚，但不管怎么说，在女方的那段生命里，那些笑话和陪伴肯定让她的生活（暂时）变得容易忍受了许多。

接下来，他们结了婚，男方的欺骗给女方带来了巨大的折磨，她开始觉得自己胖，觉得自己不值得被爱。

发现真相以后Alice孤立无援，其他人的态度是“你装一下就好，你忍一下就好”，因为失足妇女和酷儿一样不值得被理解和尊重。

丈夫提供你一个屋檐、一个姓氏已经是慈善行为，你还想怎样？

我相信Michael懂得Alice的感受，因为在世人眼中他们的地位是一样的。

所以在濒临分手的关头，Michael给了Alice性和一个孩子， 这不光是为了婚姻存续和自己的利益，我相信那个晚上他的安慰和同情是有几分真心的，但当然他的软弱和自私也是实实在在的。

在此后的婚姻生活中，Alice给了Michael几乎母性的宽容和保护，那不光是对痛苦的无可奈何，她的豁达里有友谊和同情的光辉。

然而，当同性恋终于去罪化的那一天到来，Alice的想法居然是：“你真的需要自由吗，体面、身份、家庭，你不是已经有了你所需要的一切吗？

”。

也许任何理解终究是隔了一层的。

在Alice和Michael之间，同情和奉献是真实的，但冷酷地为自己打算也是不可避免的。

我们甚至还看到，同是被侮辱被损害地群体，在看到别人最终挣脱枷锁的时候，竟会隐隐地有嫉妒和恨（凭什么是你不是我，一起继续做奴隶才是合理的吧）。

“我会想你的，Alice。

”这句话Michael说过两次。

这是世界上最真挚的感情流露，却也是世界上最冷酷的谎言。

第5集（推荐度：3/5）.“我也想坠入某人的怀中，而不是落入某人的手中。

”第五集的主旨并不新鲜，还是倾诉同志群体的疾苦。

但是本集妙在反其道而行之，不是让一个光正伟的形象如泣如诉地讲述自己的悲伤，而是由一个花里胡哨、老不正经的老基友大谈“我喜欢战争，我喜欢当男妓”云云。

当然，这种设定的精髓便是99%的愤世嫉俗，加上最后1%的灵魂流露。

“我也想坠入某人的怀中，而不是落入某人的手中。

”谁不渴望安稳幸福，谁不渴望和心上人一起走在街上看看太阳？

我们会被触动，是因为人同此心。

这位老基友让我想起《越快乐越堕落》里的曾志伟，是那个角色第一次让我知道，酷儿们的世界里并不是只有年轻帅气的梁朝伟和张国荣。

第6集（推荐度：2/5）“有时候，只有放弃自己的诺言，才能让你活下来。

”本集是讲一个来自英属殖民地的有色人种同志少年在伦敦的冒险和挣扎。

其实我觉得这个少年的挣扎很大程度上是他的肤色和故乡造成的，而与同志身份关系没有那么大。

结尾处少年选择主动入伍保卫英国。

以我在前英国殖民地生活的经历，殖民地人民（包括我自己）确实相当爱英国，这究竟是文化光辉、人性共鸣、板球和赛马的魔力、还是斯特哥尔摩综合症？

这是一个见仁见智的问题。

第7集（推荐度：1/5）这一集大约旨在把本剧覆盖群体进一步拓展至于lesbian和transgender。

但是由于技术细节太过猎奇，我觉得更像一个十日谈故事。

所以，本集无感。

第8集（推荐度：3/5）“你可以讲述你自己的故事，你可以主宰你自己的人生。

”完结篇当然要回归春晚模式。

本集讲一对基友有情人终成眷属，在盛大的婚礼开始前其中一方准备婚礼致辞的情况。

虽然剧本很老套，但是有笑有泪的丰富细节和演员的合格演绎成功hold住了全场。

在新郎的这段独白中，有因为同志身份受到的欺负和凌辱，但也有善良的人们对他最温暖的包容和保护；有不安和惶恐，但也有勇气和希望；更有托身已得所的满足和幸福。

虽然很春晚，但是在难忘今宵的歌曲中（并没有），我完全感受到了导演想要告诉我的：同志群体一步步走到今天的（相对）自由不容易，这里面有他们自己的抗争，有善良群众的包容，也有正直的政治人物的功劳（第4集的字幕里提到，1954年英国成立了一个委员会来研究同性恋问题。

委员会的主席沃芬敦本身是反感同性恋的，但是经过长达3年的讨论质证以后，沃芬敦最后提交的报告是支持同性恋去罪化的。

说实话，我很感动。

）最后，我想给本剧的所有演员手动点赞。

站在墙壁前面独白20分钟还能抓住观众真的不是每个人都能完成的任务。

你们的演技给了我感动和新知，谢谢你们（显然我还沉浸在春晚的气氛中不能自拔）。

最最后，我想说我很喜欢《禁色》中的一句歌词：“别怕，爱本是无罪。

”祝天下有情人终成眷属。

剧本来源：BBC官方网站 搬运/侵删Queers. s01e01 Episode ScriptThe Man On the PlatformDouglas 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.Next Episode >Queers. Episode Scripts | More Television Show Episode Scripts

#Queers好久没有看过如此有质感的剧了，片头/尾的钢琴旋律不愿错过半秒，灯光、布景与服饰，精致而精确。

每一集都像是一场引导冥想，置身，共情：或莞尔，或兴奋，或悲伤，能闻到皮革和烟草的香。

当下还有什么能让人专心看一个人絮叨。

感恩自己的阅历与对大英的了解，才能有这般体味。

Missing Alice这集目前Top1，故事和表演均为上乘！

小鲜肉Fionn的演技简直，把怯懦紧张时絮叨的少年活现，如果这不是他本人的性格那愈加期待敦刻尔克了。

小本这集很心水，小本演技数一数二，故事如指肚触碰水面的沁透激凉。

期待最后一集…#LongLiveBritish #LongLiveBBC

第一集《The Man on the Platform》看到震撼第一次接触这样叙述式的电影是《爱在黎明破晓前》，台词和男女演技撑起了一部戏，这个小短剧又刷新了我的认知，一直很喜欢英剧就是非常别出心裁真的给剧本大大跪了，这有多考验台词功底，就有多惊喜。

叙述式的对话、独白都非常容易就看的无聊了，就不愿再看下去。

所以这样的剧本出的好就是经典，出得不好就没人买账。

这个剧本好不好简直好炸了，其实很多集中都有一个句子被重复两遍的，像第一集“a certain liquidity of the eye”，这句话一出来，就带给强烈的画面感，眼神的碰撞是最最能传达到人心底的感情，这份情的浓厚，一下就表达出来了，更别说后面关于两个人在一起的场景的描述，那若有似无的暧昧，到最后黑暗中的牵手，火车往前面抖了一下又一下，就像心颤动了一下又一下。

你感受到了吗？

两只灵魂穿过黑夜的碰撞，忍不住掉下了泪。

还有敦刻尔克小哥紧张的传达着自己惴惴不安的心情、同妻奶奶一直在微笑，抿抿嘴角又释然开怀的样子，还说自己很火辣I'd miss you Alice 明明知道丈夫要离开，却还是忍不住期待依赖，解脱啊也无奈吧。

这是传达的感情方面。

另一方面，反应历史。

100年同性恋们的生活是怎么样的？

把每个时期人们碰到的事、心里的状态刻画的入木三分，同性恋要隐藏自己到战争到同性恋合法到婚姻法，他们这一路走的多不容易啊，他们都是一样的普通人啊。

也依旧很感动，在这样一个文明的国度，他们一直没有放弃这个进程，努力的用自己微小的力量撑起了这么大的文明进步！

有好的剧本当然少不了好的演员，第一集！

只有一集把人内心击碎！

本喵对着镜头缓缓叙述，把你当成朋友，诉说自己内心最深的思念，怎么hold住？

我觉得他已经成精了！

后面演员的表演也非常精彩！

敦刻尔克小哥年龄小，但是就是清澈稚嫩的感觉，年轻躁动的心一下就表达了。

Rebecca优雅大方，抿抿嘴角的样子让人觉得真是好委屈啊，但是释然的一笑又让人心疼...最后终于都变好了，幸好大家都没有放弃，对于这个群体，好看的皮囊各种各样，而有趣的灵魂万里挑一，所以找到你爱的人，就千万努力！

S01 The man on the platformBen Whishaw，一战故事，八集里面打头阵，看到现在最隽永动人的一个。

一战太惨烈，而以此为背景的爱情故事都平添几分摧人心肝的伤感。

法国，亚眠，战地医院，湖水，草坪，金盏花，罂粟，雾气蒙蒙的车站。

一个迷人的上尉，有着金色长睫，蓬松金发，浅浅酒窝，当他温柔的微笑，邀请你去狩猎蝴蝶，是多么难以拒绝，更何况周围是死亡围绕战火纷飞。

即使心知他是你的大司命，你也会牵住他的手。

愁人兮奈何，愿若今兮无亏。

固人命兮有当，孰离合兮可为?他美好的像一个梦，仿佛是凭空的由阳光送来，是众神的宠儿，赤足的美少年，手持金箭，即使是林中狩猎，也是那么轻灵不沾尘，与血腥无关，只是追逐花的灵魂。

看着Ben这个忧郁的士兵，视力受损，心灵受创，说不定还有PTSD，一瞬间恍惚疑惑他是否沉浸于幻想。

看他吞吞吐吐，欲言又止，疏离和沉迷转换，一时Captain一时Terrance，眼神一时滚烫一时冰凉，身不由己！

他纠结自己的出生，那个意外去世的兄长，自己贯了他的名字成为自己，身不由己；童年时偶遇雾气中狼狈的男子，对自身的了悟，仿佛是上天推了一把。

母亲忧伤的注视，男子挨的一巴掌，从此铭记在心中，谨慎度日，身不由己；遇上战争，走上屠场，身不由己；而遭遇爱和分离，更加是身不由己！

边缘人，queers，若不是颠沛流离途中，站台上，漆黑夜里，指尖上传来温柔一吻，更能用什么来慰籍平生!这是神无限的恩赐垂怜。

车行了，窗外只有雾气，他仿佛没有来过，剩下是悠悠岁月寂寂人生难测的前途和一颗惶恐的心。

爱神昭显了自己的面目，a certain liquidity of the eye，你得以一睹他的真容，他来无影去无踪 ，不过是人生站台一闪而过的身影。

On November 13th 1895 I was brought down here from London. From two o'clock till half-past two on that day I had to stand on the centre platform of Clapham Junction in convict dress and handcuffed, for the world to look at. I had been taken out of the Hospital Ward without a moment’s notice being given to me. Of all possible objects I was the most grotesque. When people saw me they laughed. Each train as it came up swelled the audience. Nothing could exceed their amusement. That was of course before they knew who I was. As soon as they had been informed, they laughed still more. For half an hour I stood there in the grey November rain surrounded by a jeering mob[135d]. For a year after that was done to me I wept every day at the same hour and for the same space of time. That is not such a tragic thing as possibly it sounds to you. To those who are in prison, tears are a part of every day’s experience. A day in prison on which one does not weep is a day on which one’s heart is hard, not a day on which one’s heart is happy.1 8 9 5年1 1月1 3日，我从伦敦被带到这里。

那天从两点到两点半，我得站在克列珀汉转换站的中央站台上，穿着囚衣戴着手铐，让天下人观看。

一点也没预先通知，就把我从医院病房带出来。

天上人间，那时就数我最丑最怪。

人们看到我就笑。

每来一班火车就增加一层观众。

没什么比这更能逗他们乐了。

这当然是在他们知道我是谁之前。

等知道了之后，他们笑得更厉害了。

我就这么半个小时地站在那里，冒着十一月的冷雨，面对一团讥笑连连的匹夫匹妇。

在那次遭遇后的一年里，每天到了那个钟点，我都要哭，哭上同样长的那么一段时间。

这事你听着也许不觉得有那么悲伤。

对那些监狱中人，眼泪是每日必备的经历。

在牢里，要有谁哪一天不哭，那是他的心硬了，而不是他的心喜了。