我最近一段時(shí)間在認(rèn)真的研讀美國(guó)歷史，這是我在日本史和蘇聯(lián)史、羅馬史之外又一個(gè)重點(diǎn)研讀的方向，在看到英法七年戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)這段歷史背景的時(shí)候得到介紹看了這部電影《最后的莫西干人》，這本書(shū)，我在書(shū)店的書(shū)架上看了好久，一直無(wú)緣拜讀，先看了一下這部電影。電影的開(kāi)篇我就非常喜歡，音樂(lè)緊緊的抓住了我，那雄壯的北美山脈配合著一首豪邁悲愴的音樂(lè)，這首旋律足以媲美《勇敢的心》那蘇格蘭風(fēng)笛的美妙演奏。
 
電影講述了印第安人中莫西干部落最后幾位勇士營(yíng)救兩位英國(guó)將軍被俘虜?shù)呐畠旱墓适?，在這條主線之外，我們看到的是英法以及與當(dāng)?shù)赜〉诎膊柯渲g的復(fù)雜歷史關(guān)系，這里面有著文明沖突的傷痛，幾位莫西干勇士是白人化了的印第安人，這也是唱給印第安文明的一首悲情挽歌，電影的最后，最后的老莫西干勇士感慨，莫西干部落、印第安民族都將消失，白人會(huì)更多的到來(lái)，這里會(huì)有嶄新的國(guó)家，嶄新的民族在這塊土地上耕耘，但是無(wú)可否認(rèn)的是，我們也曾經(jīng)在歷史上在這塊土地上存在過(guò)。
 

文明的進(jìn)程不是溫情脈脈的，有著歷史的陣痛，那個(gè)悲情的印第安民族也是一個(gè)崇尚英雄與自然和諧相處的一種存在，他們的確曾經(jīng)存在。

最后一個(gè)莫希干人是很多人頗為稱道的名片了?？晌铱偸窍瓤催^(guò)美國(guó)商業(yè)大片，在當(dāng)期大片的DVDrip看完之后我才開(kāi)始欣賞我的一些典藏。

最后一個(gè)莫西干人，就是如此。

所謂劇情，簡(jiǎn)介什么的我也無(wú)須再說(shuō)，網(wǎng)上大把，背景故事也不用再提，非常喜歡的人可以直接買書(shū)來(lái)看。當(dāng)當(dāng)什么的都有。

我說(shuō)說(shuō)自己喜歡的地方，最后一個(gè)莫西干人在片中其實(shí)是千家谷，他在片尾那些話說(shuō)的很有深意。白人會(huì)來(lái)到印第安人的這片土地，當(dāng)一個(gè)個(gè)本地民族消失，同化，殖民這個(gè)概念其實(shí)也不復(fù)存在，這是歷史發(fā)展的必然，你可以預(yù)見(jiàn)，但不可抗拒。

說(shuō)起來(lái)最感動(dòng)的場(chǎng)面，我看是英國(guó)軍官德勒代替豪克依來(lái)頂替英國(guó)守軍將領(lǐng)門羅的女兒歌娜要被燒死的那一幕，德勒之前是心儀于門羅的大女兒歌娜的，可是歌娜愛(ài)上了土著豪克依，在歌娜被另外的土著休倫族抓住要活活燒死的時(shí)候，豪克依去說(shuō)情并想讓休倫族的長(zhǎng)老同意燒死自己換取歌娜的性命。做為豪克依的翻譯的德勒，在這個(gè)時(shí)候本來(lái)是可以順理成章的看到自己的情敵被燒死，自己就更有機(jī)會(huì)和生還的歌娜一起，但他翻譯時(shí)故意說(shuō)成了是自己要去代替被燒死......選擇自己被活活燒死，祝福愛(ài)人和自己的情敵，這本是一個(gè)人不可能會(huì)做出來(lái)的選擇，可是他這樣做了。好偉大，真的好偉大。

另外一個(gè)情節(jié)也是感人至深，門羅的小女兒愛(ài)麗絲被豪克依的哥哥雍加愛(ài)慕，但她被休倫族的激進(jìn)者馬瓜脅迫，雍加去救愛(ài)麗絲卻被馬瓜殺死并從懸崖墜下，這時(shí)驚人的，在劇中一直羸弱的愛(ài)麗絲見(jiàn)此情景，居然自己毅然的跳入崖下。那份弱女子的勇敢和堅(jiān)定讓人敬佩不以。

你可以說(shuō)這是一部戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)片，在我心里，它也講述了人性，愛(ài)，自由。

很好看的電影，推薦。

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所有的戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)都是為了滿足少部分人的貪欲 什么為了土地 國(guó)家 自由 還有那個(gè)的榮譽(yù)而成為他們的欲望工具。你只要保護(hù)好你要保護(hù)的東西就好了，如果要打仗 為什么發(fā)起打仗的人不自行解決，如果為了自由？可我們本來(lái)就身在囚禁之下，什么最重要？如果生命和金錢放在你面前，所有每個(gè)個(gè)體都會(huì)選生命，但是國(guó)家會(huì)選擇金錢

Michael Mann (b. 1943)

Like Bruce Beresford, Michael Mann might claim to be slightly other than the “typical” Hollyoood director, though he is Chicago-born and works a little more comfortably within American genres and conventions. But his apprenticeship includes a B.A. in literature from University of Wisconsin and a film degree from the prestigious London Film School. Returning to the USA in the1970s, he moved smoothly into commercial advertising where, like Ridley (Blade Runner) Scott, he quickly claimed distinction for his remarkable sense of lighting and décor. By the early 1980s he had segued off into television, gaining fame as the executive producer of a popular and long-running investigative crime drama, Miami Vice. The series established the city of Miami as the new site of “film noir” and its impact on the industry is still visible in contemporary shows like Miami CSI and The Glades. Lots of neon, lots of light on water, lots of with-it music.

Frequently, directors who gravitate towards television sink below the horizon and are never heard from again. Mann was spared this fate because his skills-set fit nicely with the popular neo-noir revival of the 1980s and 1990s, to which he contributed Manhunter (1983). LA Takedown (1986) and Heat (1995), and The Insider (1999). In the new millennium Mann would add Miami Vice (2006) and Public Enemies (2009) to his screen credits: the first is a film vaguely evolved from the television series of the 1980s and the second a reprise of the 1930s gangster film, built around the figure of John Dillinger. It has never done any harm to Mann’s career that he is also a capable screenwriter and a competent business manager with a knack for collecting first-class theatrical talent (think, Al Pacino, Robert DeNiro, and Russell Crowe, among others). Though his proven achievements would seem to best suit him for films with contemporary, urban settings and accents of the thriller, it didn’t surprise too many people when he was contracted to direct The Last of the Mohicans (1992), the sixth remake of James Fenimore Cooper’s novel of the same name, the favorite narrative of “Leather-Stocking Tales,” which founded the western genre in the 1820s.

As in Black Robe, we have in Last of the Mohicans a narrative of the earlier American west, when the “frontier” began on the northwest outskirts of New York City. We are now slightly more than 100 years downstream from the period of the Jesuit chronicles, but the war we are plunged into is the same world-historical battle between the empires of France and Britain for the control of North America. Now in its final phase, a seven-year encounter which in the USA is called the French/Indian War (1756-63), this protracted battle leaves Britain the master of the continent, but also brings to the world stage a new set of actors who are beginning to call themselves “Americans,” and even remarking, quietly and hesitantly still, that they might prefer not to be servants of the English crown. The tribal tensions remain much the same: the Indians south of Lake Ontario (the Iroquois and the Mohicans) are allied with the English; the Algonquins and the Hurons, both north of the lake, take their marching orders from the French. A little incongruously, the Mohicans are tribal kin of the Algonquins, as indicated by their language, and bear no great love for the Iroquois. But the Iroquois Confederacy, the most powerful Native American political force of New York and New England, pursued a policy of “assimilation,” which forcibly drew members of other tribes into their own, sometimes effectively erasing the tribe’s original identity. Hence the dire threat state to the Mohicans, which gives Cooper the title of his novel.

Fenimore Cooper, of course, is much more invested in these historical events than Michael Mann. The creator of “Leather Stocking” belongs to the first generation of post-revolution Americans: he was born in 1789, virtually at the outset of Washington’s first term as President. And one of the crucial events of Cooper’s teenage years was the journey of Lewis and Clark up the Missouri river to map the land acquired in the Louisiana Purchase. More to the point, perhaps, is that he was growing up during the second war with Britain (1812-14), in which the USA had decisively defeated English forces in the west. A decade later, just three years before the publication of Cooper’s novel, President Monroe sent to Congress a message known as the Monroe Doctrine, which decisively asserts the claims of American nationalism against all the European powers. Cooper writes out of this intensely nationalistic milieu, but is aware of some of its complexity, working very self-consciously with issues of race and ethnicity. What place, if any, do the native peoples have in the new nation? How have they contributed to the creation of a unique American sensibility? How do we gracefully invite them to leave the land to us? As you will see in our small excerpt from the novel, Cooper struggles with these questions, finding them a bit awkward.

Mann is far less interested in American history and operates at a much lower level of political fervor. You might notice, for example, that Nathaniel, the archetypal American, turns out to be the British actor Daniel Day Lewis, who manages somehow to look pretty authentic in the costume of a backwoodsman. Mann handles the Native Americans differently as well, nodding appreciatively towards their value system but excluding them from real relevance. Interestingly, the film was released in the same year that marked the 500th anniversary of Columbus’ first voyage, which caused it to be charged in some circles with “cultural imperialism.” That’s a matter we will almost certainly discuss in class. What also seems reasonably certain is that Mann tries strenuously to reduce the political concerns of the novel and replace them with a love story. But as with other purveyors of western myth, the love story has an added dimension. We are really being invited to fall in love with the American west.