手机

    普希金说：“一切过去的，都将成为美好的回忆。”中国人的崇古思想尤为严重，若对现实失望，便会幽幽地叹上一句“人心不古”。例如感情这回事，在社会普遍缺乏忠贞感的年代，人们把希冀的目光投回古代，古典式爱情成了现代人最后一根救命稻草。

    果真如此吗？对于这个问题，《手机》里的费老是这么说的：“古时候好啊，上京赶考，几年不回，回来的时候，你说什么都是成立的。”艳羡之情，溢于言表。当然，费老所憧憬的并非古典忠贞的爱情，而是由于交通和通讯不便所造成的偷情契机。

    中国最忠贞的爱情故事据说来自古时的牛郎和织女。一条大河波浪宽，没有稻花香两岸，牛郎的爱情始于大河，困于大河，也算是因果循环。

    不过上世纪70生人普遍受周星驰解构、颠覆思想的影响，传说里痴情专一的牛郎在他们看来并不是个绝种好男人。首先，牛郎是以一个偷窥者的身份出现，体现了其低劣的道德水准；其次，趁织女洗澡时偷其衣物，这是恋物癖的典型症状；第三，在织女一丝不挂时进行谈判，胁迫织女嫁给自己。这样的行为放到现代就是一个不折不扣的流氓罪，可挪到古代却变成了值得歌颂的爱情故事。所以现代人的爱情观念不一定就是那么低俗和赤裸裸，把一切罪过归结于时代是站不住脚的。

    上世纪70年代生人是目前中国社会的主体，可偏偏处在一个夹缝中的尴尬境地。美国人爱把他们的人群按年龄划分成“迷惘一代”、“垮掉一代”、“嬉皮一代”。在中国，如果说生于60年代是“过于责任”的一代，生于80年代是“物质的一代”——把握物质，并被物质把握。那么处于夹心饼干中间的70年代人则是“孤独自我”的一代，他们处于保守和反叛的交汇处，骨子里的保守和现代反叛的教育糅合形成了独特、矛盾的价值观和爱情观。他们不相信天荒地老，没想过从一而终，却也不怎么游戏爱情，本质上还是渴望传统的情感与生活方式。

    就像夹心饼干最精华的部分在中间一样，或许70年代人对待感情的态度更为理性和客观。格非在小说《初恋》的结尾这样写：“我们信誓旦旦，永不分离；我们未雨绸缪，时刻准备，各奔东西。”细致入微地描绘出70年代人的爱情观。

为毛要为这一般般的片子写评论呢，因为看了半天影评，发现基本分为两种意见-------男人精神紧张感觉揭了自己的短，说危险；女人面对汹涌现实，要妥协。

对，没错儿，人性是喜新厌旧。人道主义起见，我们表压抑人性，男人要出去找人就去吧，女人要宽容，只要不怕坏家庭安定团结你就去吧。

不知道这些人为毛要结婚。可能很多人只想要个室友，如果室友离开，再找室友麻烦，一样的程序再来一次，累，那干脆就这么将就着吧。所以啊，就有了什么灰色的蓝色的红色的知己之类。

生活能不能简单点儿呢？有病就是把原本简单的弄复杂了。

爱就好好爱，不爱就死开。

        Cell Phone (2003) marks the culmination of the popular cultural preoccupation with infidelity. A famous TV talk show host Yan Shouyi, tries without success to maintain the delicate network of lies and concealments that allow him to have two different mistresses in addition to his estranged wife.
        The story starts in a small town where the town’s first telephone, which signifies the modernization in China, has just been installed. In a small village nearby, a young man Yan Shouyi takes a peasant woman to the town to make a phone call to her husband. About twenty years later, the middle-aged Yan Shouyi has already become a popular TV talk show host in a big city, owning a wife, a nice job, a BMW, and a mistress. His life and work would not have taken this path if he had not been equipped with a cell phone, the latest wireless communication technology. But the Cell Phone also causes the end of his marriage: his wife accidentally answers a phone call from his mistress complaining about his absence from a date.
        After getting a divorce, Yan starts a new relationship with a college teacher, Shen Xue, while still occasionally dating his old mistress, Wu Yue. On the several occasions when his double life is about to be discovered by Shen, Yan deftly covers the truth with lies. His close friend Fei Muo, a university professor and producer for his television show, is also involved in a similar love affair with a graduate student, which is soon discovered by his wife. Eventually, Yan’s infidelity is discovered by Shen who sees a digital picture of Yan and Wu making love, a picture taken by the digital camera built into Wu’s new cell phone. Not only is Yan’s relationship destroyed, his career also ends as Wu threatens to expose their relationship and takes over his position as the talk show host. At the end of the film, throwing his cell phone into fire, Yan swears that he will never again own one. Then after a dip-to-black, the film welcomes a second ending, Yan’s niece, who is also from the same village, becomes a cell phone saleswoman and comes to demonstrate the latest product to his uncle Yan. (Zhang, 135)
        Given the obvious Marxist bent of Cell Phone’s rhetoric and its fable-like narrative of the dangers of commodity fetishism, one might easily conclude the film as criticism of the effects of rapid economic transformation in urban China, and denial of male dominance. However, underneath this reading which is merely based on the resolution provided by the film, we can find both the cultural underpinning and ideological impacts of the film, whether they are conscious directorial decisions or not, are the other way around.
        The film is based on patriarchal and post-socialist assumptions in the first place. The leading character, wealthy, successful TV host Yan Shouyi, is representing the controlling patriarchal order and the ruling class. The young and charming mistress Wu Yue, on the other hand, is a sexual object and an oppressed worker reinforcing and perpetuating an exploitative capitalistic scheme. Yu Wenjuan, the pregnant wife and later the mother of Yan’s only child, is a cheap labor whose family value in undertaking housework and fostering children is totally underestimated and neglected by both the character Yan and the filmmaker Feng. Shen Xue, the successor of Yu and Wu, is a wonderful replacement of the two women, since she functions as both mistress and wife and has the highest total value. Therefore, marriage and divorce follow the rules of product exchange. The values of women as sexual commodities are estimated by their male owner, based on evaluation and grading of their sexual attractiveness and productivity among others.
        In the second place, the narration neglects and degrades women’s family values.
While there are scenes of Yan Shouyi working at the TV station and attending meeting with his colleagues, which confirms his value in production, there is hardly any scene of the women working. In addition, among the values of women, the four structures proposed by Mitchell, sexuality is emphasized against reproduction, and socialization. While there are a lot of scenes of Yan Shouyi flirting and having fun with her young and passionate mistress Wu Yue, there is hardly any scene of him and the older and less attractive wife spending time together. The cinematic representation of the reproduction process of Yan’s first wife is almost absent in the film. Having been pregnant for months, Yu Wenjuan did not inform her husband at all, and Yan is only informed several months after divorce by his ex-brother-in-law that his first wife had already given birth to their baby and needs money from him.
        Hiding behind socialization of children and the new motherhood are deeper oppressions of women. Spending a lot of time and energy nurturing the kid, the woman Yu did not get the compensation in improving her own social status; instead she lost her job in the big city after she went back to her hometown. As the value of socialization of children is often neglected by the society, this part of the plot is also omitted in the film, and is only told through Yan’s narration, serving as an obstacle that hinders and adds drama to Yan’s women pursuing career. As her value looks invisible, Yan replaces his first wife not with his mistress whose value only lies in sexuality, but with a beautiful college professor Shen Xue who seems to be a more serious and proper wife candidate, but also has the sexual disposition of a mistress.
        From Yan’s perspective, all the three women can be valued on a materialistic basis. Women become commodities, and their sexual attractiveness, job, education status are all counted in their exchange value while man is the buyer who has the right of choice because of his economic power and dominance in a patriarchal society.
        Extramarital relationship is a fatal violation of Chinese social norms and a tradition that often punishes the woman for such “immoral transgression” (Cui 181). In Cell Phone, the mistress Wu Yue, became the conflict's cause and the incarnation of immorality instead of the Male character Yan Shouyi. As an advanced prostitute, she would love to sell her body in exchange for money and power. And, ultimately, she threatens to replace Yan Shouyi as a television talk show host by using the photo she took in her cell phone. Thus, Yan Shouyi becomes the victimized character pitied by the audiences instead of the evil woman.
        The resolution of the film, Yan Shouyi’s abandoning of the cell phone, which may seem like a self-criticism, is actually a displacement and denial of the guilt and regret by reprimanding the modern technology and communication device. Cell phone becomes the scapegoat for Yan Shouyi, the hypocritical and immoral character, and therefore the patriarchal and capitalist order behind the story, which was supposedly to be criticized, is actually being extended sympathy.
        Depicted as the direct cause of all the conflicts between the protagonist and the three female characters, cell phone, the symbol of post-socialist modernity seems to be criticized. Rui concludes that Cell Phone addresses the subject through the director’s satirical take on consumerism and his exposure of the moral crises and ethical issues brought by expansion of high technology into our everyday lives (Zhang, 136). However, in the first 90 minutes of the film, a fantasy of the patriarchal and post-socialist (capitalist) utopia was already created for the male audiences: mistress as a symbol and accessory of urban success. Female audiences were also given a utilitarian fantasy integrated with the narcissistic and masochistic visual pleasure: being someone’s mistress is the shortcut to wealth and success. Thus, the film belittles the value of women, and denies women's independent existential meaning.
        In addition to the narrative constructed to propagate the attractive image of the “successful personage” that has represented the “new ideology” of contemporary China, an image that endorses a reality of growing class differences and income disparities, Feng Xiaogang adopts a lot of meta-cinematic elements in Cell Phone to offset the seriousness of his own criticism, a technique abundantly used in his early films. There are ample shots within the TV station, such as the staff operating camera, and outtakes of the TV host Yan who says his lines wrong, that remind the audiences to question the authenticity of their own movie watching experience. There is also a lot of inserting advertisements for cell phones that deconstructs the movie’s final critical stance towards post-socialist modernity. As the audiences identify and follow the male protagonist throughout the film, they highly enjoy and celebrate his material wealth and “romantic affairs” brought about by his professional success in the patriarchal and post-socialist order. In the meantime, they also accept a message that all women, whether they are educated or not, college professor or press editor, wife or mistress, are all annexed to the life of men.
        As McGrath noticed, the basic narrative structure of Cell Phone already had become so common by the end of the 1990s as to constitute a cinematic genre in itself, a genre that offers fable-like narratives of the moral dilemmas confronted by protagonists facing dramatic changes in personal economics as well as libidinal possibilities in the reform era. In such films, a man takes on one or more extramarital lovers after achieving some sort of economic success and social elevation (McGrath, 98). In many cases, a man’s ability to defy his wife is supported by both his male role and some sort of economic success. Even though these films reveal the social issues of the oppression of women, they neither provide a solution nor hold a feministic point of view that attempt to liberate women. Instead, they stand in line with the successful male protagonists, and celebrate the current patriarchal and post-socialist status quo. In a word, these films are women-concerned, but not at all feminist films.
        Supposedly a subgenre of family melodrama that aims to criticize the social immorality and educate the audiences, the actual impact of the “cinema of infidelity” is rather doubtful. An example is the sex diary scandal of Han Feng, the former senior tobacco official, which culminates the “mistress fashion” in 2010. Even more dramatic than Feng’s films, the purported diary, written in graphic detail, includes boasts that Han was enjoying sex romps with many different women while taking bribes and attending banquets. Populated by Internet users, Han’s case is just one in a million of the government officials and the privileged stratum in Mainland China.