2023北影節(jié)的第二部電影，又一次見(jiàn)到了游牧民族對(duì)“離開(kāi)“這個(gè)話(huà)題的表達(dá)，近年來(lái)電影凡是涉及到游牧民族以及原住民必然會(huì)討論城市化對(duì)人的影響，故事無(wú)外乎年輕人離開(kāi)原住址，年老的人化作蒼鷹飛上藍(lán)天，兩方的思維沖突和變化來(lái)臨時(shí)的大勢(shì)所趨與無(wú)奈云云。本片則用一種溫和又體貼的方式講述“離開(kāi)”的命題，把根與飄做進(jìn)露水情緣的父子關(guān)系里，已經(jīng)離開(kāi)的青年人和留在了故土上的少年，而一開(kāi)始就已經(jīng)過(guò)世的年邁父親，早早地將影片的命題推向了下一個(gè)節(jié)點(diǎn)。有意思的是，本片鏡頭對(duì)準(zhǔn)的是兩個(gè)被女性留下的孤獨(dú)男魂，在廣袤草原的月色下，為這兩個(gè)人物染上了一身草原男性本該鮮少具備的溫情。

一、人是天與地的鏈接：

本片中有許多低角度鏡頭，形式等同于現(xiàn)在抖音里網(wǎng)紅教人像拍美的手法。不過(guò)在影片的語(yǔ)境下，畫(huà)面中的人物則是鏈接天空與大地的梯子，人物揮桿割草，草越來(lái)越低，天空的面積就越來(lái)越大，對(duì)于男主來(lái)說(shuō)，預(yù)示著他從失去父親和得知戀人早有兒子的失落中逐漸豁然，在一個(gè)個(gè)重復(fù)的動(dòng)作中，雜草是他的心緒，一點(diǎn)點(diǎn)撫平這份一直來(lái)不及好好關(guān)注和料理的情緒荒地，影片中后段得知他是一名廚師時(shí)，職業(yè)上的料理對(duì)上情緒上的料理，割草這種粗糙的操作卻映襯出了人物情感上的細(xì)膩。

影片中不僅將人作為分割線(xiàn)，組成畫(huà)面中的鏈接。情節(jié)上安排男主去蓋山頂上的木塔也是在做鏈接的比喻。首先是照應(yīng)了影片開(kāi)頭，男孩站在馬背上挑起長(zhǎng)桿打電話(huà)尋信號(hào)，求的是一個(gè)與外界的溝通，其次男主從城里來(lái)，作為一個(gè)城市人本身具備著科技和發(fā)展的屬性，他來(lái)帶頭建設(shè)草原部落山坡上的“電塔”，再一次給小男孩希望，完成男孩對(duì)外溝通的內(nèi)心需求。最后，也為那兩個(gè)游手好閑一直讓小男孩操心的，仿佛法國(guó)喜劇電影里才有的笨蛋組合式的兩個(gè)成年人物，留下了一份賺錢(qián)的工作，又一次解決了小男孩本身的困境。

二、父子關(guān)系的第二種影像可能性：

以往的影片中我們經(jīng)常看到男人和他固執(zhí)的父親，彼此沖突，難以表達(dá)情感，最終一人離去，留下一個(gè)孤獨(dú)的男人獨(dú)自惆悵并且完成一個(gè)沉默男人的成長(zhǎng)。而本片則非?？焖俚亟Y(jié)束了上述傳統(tǒng)的父子影像關(guān)系，轉(zhuǎn)而去塑造失去傳統(tǒng)形象的父親和父子關(guān)系的男性是如何遇見(jiàn)一個(gè)男孩后，重塑自己的父子關(guān)系。雖然男人與男孩的相遇具備沖突，但他們的和解卻是快速的，男孩子的主動(dòng)示好，瞬間化解掉了男人的固執(zhí)，雖然有些找不到示好的理由，但是后面的情感發(fā)展很是順理成章，也便無(wú)需在此糾結(jié)。

男孩生氣，男人主動(dòng)去說(shuō)話(huà)尋求諒解，男孩自以為成長(zhǎng)為一個(gè)成熟的大人了，走過(guò)玩具攤位還是會(huì)停住多看幾眼，這些細(xì)節(jié)被男人捕捉并且滿(mǎn)足了男孩的心愿，這個(gè)一早被男孩稱(chēng)之為“城里人”的男人仿佛魔法教母一樣，隨時(shí)一揮仙女棒，就可以看清男孩的需求，滿(mǎn)足他。每一次這種男性主動(dòng)面對(duì)情感，主動(dòng)上前交流的場(chǎng)景，都極其具備現(xiàn)代理解，對(duì)于一個(gè)純粹的每逢節(jié)日只管摔跤平日牧羊牧馬的草原人來(lái)說(shuō)，都是有違傳統(tǒng)非同一般的性格，無(wú)聲之中強(qiáng)化了“都市氣”，不是草原上的傳統(tǒng)男人。也正是這個(gè)男人的不一般，才能給到一個(gè)嘴上教訓(xùn)大人，很有領(lǐng)導(dǎo)風(fēng)范忍著情緒佯裝懂事的小男孩，一個(gè)情緒的出口。

當(dāng)兩人騎馬去參加兒童摔跤大會(huì)的路上，一群候鳥(niǎo)站在美麗的湖泊邊，男人問(wèn)能過(guò)去嗎，男孩說(shuō)你會(huì)驚擾它們，但當(dāng)男孩在識(shí)字問(wèn)題上漏怯時(shí)，策馬揚(yáng)鞭跑過(guò)湖泊，驚起候鳥(niǎo)。這一段情緒的張力，使得人物關(guān)系進(jìn)行了一次釋放，走的太近會(huì)驚擾，離得遠(yuǎn)了剛剛好，但人是有眷戀的，是有理想有夢(mèng)的，所以小男孩幻想可以留下這個(gè)男人充當(dāng)自己的父親，以此獲得愛(ài)意，而男人無(wú)法留下承諾，只能遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)地給這個(gè)男孩平靜。

父子關(guān)系在牧羊、牧馬之間完成了兩次塑造，與自然之間達(dá)成關(guān)系性，誰(shuí)也無(wú)法掌控誰(shuí)，而是相互依偎，尋求寂寞中的一團(tuán)熱切。對(duì)現(xiàn)實(shí)父子關(guān)系的一種內(nèi)心補(bǔ)償，亦或者是一個(gè)理想化的父子，男孩追求著理想化的父親，男人也回應(yīng)了這份祈求，把自己塑造成了理想的模樣。

本片尾聲，男孩看到收割機(jī)快速地割完干草，心中的失落化成憤怒，他像男主鞭打羊群一樣鞭打兩個(gè)成年人，他剛剛得到的寧?kù)o和快樂(lè)，在一團(tuán)團(tuán)干草垛面前失去了依靠，他再次成為鏡頭里孤獨(dú)的一個(gè)小小身影，他知道時(shí)日已到，不想做完的夢(mèng)還是醒了。男人離去，男孩逃避，最后相擁哭泣，兩個(gè)人物最終又回歸到了“離去”的命題里，誰(shuí)也找不到心里的一隅平靜，只不過(guò)這一次的離開(kāi)，不再是郁郁寡歡和自我折磨，陪伴的美好在兩個(gè)人的擁抱和淚水中凝固，留下一個(gè)長(zhǎng)長(zhǎng)的黑屏給觀眾們處理自己的情緒，“離開(kāi)”從銀幕里的討論走進(jìn)了觀眾的心里，觀眾此刻也要離開(kāi)影院，可內(nèi)心卻還未離去。

這種人與場(chǎng)的順暢結(jié)合，是我對(duì)本部影片高評(píng)價(jià)的主要原因之一，這部電影雖然語(yǔ)法樸實(shí)，結(jié)構(gòu)普通，但導(dǎo)演的表達(dá)和情感場(chǎng)的塑造都具備魅力，很難不為人物之間建立起的依偎動(dòng)情，這一場(chǎng)電影下來(lái)，我依舊記得兩個(gè)人騎馬的模樣，誰(shuí)也阻擋不了離去，所以才要好好對(duì)待當(dāng)下，對(duì)待還在的時(shí)刻。

One of the high-profile actors from Mongolia, Amarsaikhan Baljinnyam is mostly known for his tough-guy roles in the Trapped Abroad action flicks and Netflix's Marco Polo, where he plays Kublai Khan's brother Ariq B?ke. This time, the audience gets to see the everyday man in him in his directorial debut, Harvest Moon, where he plays Tulgaa, a mild-mannered chef in Ulaanbaatar who is facing a dilemma in his life.

When the news of his stepfather's falling ill reaches him, Tulgaa returns to the countryside to fulfill his filial duties and agrees to finish the hay harvesting his old man promised to do. There he meets Tuntuulei (Tenuun-Erdene Garamkhand), a cocky ten-year-old who lives with his grandparents while his single mother works in the city.

There is certainly more to Tuntuulei than meets the eye. "A weak man stumbles on a blunt scythe," he mockingly says upon seeing Tulgaa's blistered hand. Besides having a full inventory of literary zingers, the preteen hero rolls his grandfather's cigarettes with dexterity and regularly curses with nonchalance, albeit often not fully understanding what he says. In some respects, the boy has matured beyond his years in the absence of his parents.

Adapted from Bum-Erdene Tumenbayar's short story, the movie is essentially a two-hander, a tale of a man and a child bonding, with all other characters in the background. Desiring a break from home life with his grandparents, Tuntuulei starts palling around with Tulgaa at every opportunity and the two develop a nurturing relationship.

Amarsaikhan brings a quotidian demeanor to his performance, differentiating Tulgaa from the usual curmudgeon trope in this genre while proving himself to be a versatile actor. With already a dozen credits under his belt, Tenuun-Erdene earns admiration for his convincing portrayal of a sharp-tongued countryside kid.

Perhaps thanks to the director's acting experience, the cast as a whole puts in a natural performance without awkward, dramatic delivery of lines -- a rather unfortunate and common problem in many Mongolian productions, most recently evinced in the Best Feature winner at this year's New York Asian Film Festival, Janchivdorj Sengedorj's The Sales Girl.

Neither Tulgaa nor Tuntuulei ever met his biological father and the two are drawn to each other, given their shared emotional wound. The story starts on this familiar path and moves quite predictably towards a heart-tugging destination that one can guess ten minutes into the film once the tone is set.

But sometimes it is more about the execution than the freshness of the story. Amarsaikhan handles the material with grace and charm. The script could easily have been reworked into a full-on mistaken-identity comedy, especially given that many of the supporting actors are actually comedians, but the director lends a more matter-of-fact quality to the project while inserting a few humorous moments. "Who needs this garbage? I'm not a kid," Tuntuulei scoffs when Tulgaa asks him if he wants to buy a toy in one scene, which then immediately cuts to Tuntuulei singing along to "If You're Happy And You Know It," immersed in a children's puppet theater.

The actor-producer-turned-director keeps the story emotional while avoiding veering off to schmaltz. Some beautiful dialogue inevitably gets lost in translation and a few parts of the English subtitles are outright inaccurate, containing sentences that are not spoken and thus altering characterization (take Tuntuulei's phone call with his mother, for example). The film has virtually no nondiegetic sound and its communicative, telling silences help set a light tone. Bayarsaikhan Batsukh's well-paced editing also helps reduce sentimental excess in the 90-minute running time.

Although an early indoor scene could have benefited from better lighting to not let the unstable shadow distract attention, the camerawork on the whole remains competent to drive the story forward. The cinematography is by Josua Fischer, who worked on the 2019 mediocre action flick The Mongolian Connection, also starring Amarsaikhan, and offers in fits and starts a hauntingly beautiful view of the eastern Mongolian countryside.

The later painterly shots of the hayfield remind one of Mongolian painter Odon Geleg's masterpiece, "After Work," but Fischer knows better than to exhibit long shots of idyllic landscapes in succession. In fact, the film proves quite successful in its authentic depiction of life on the Mongolian steppe and does not resort to self-exoticism and cinematic cultural tourism -- a judgment that might not be shared by everyone in one scene with dancing and singing around a bonfire.

Impressively polished by first-feature standards, Amarsaikhan's exploration of (step)fatherhood in Harvest Moon is undeniably simple but achingly tender, which might well prove to be a winning combination at Vancouver.

The film enjoys its world premiere in the Vanguard Section at the 41st edition of the Vancouver International Film Festival.

Originally published on Screen Anarchy.

電影本身其實(shí)是很質(zhì)樸，甚至是平鋪直敘的，夾雜著草原、蒙古包、蒙古馬、河流、山川這些常規(guī)元素，又安插了篝火、那達(dá)慕（可能是）這樣的特色元素。草原上很難有信號(hào)，在草原和在城市的家人很難通過(guò)一部電話(huà)進(jìn)行問(wèn)候，男主角用自己很忙來(lái)搪塞繼父，而小男孩的母親則用很忙來(lái)搪塞他；本來(lái)就沒(méi)有信號(hào)很難撥出去的電話(huà)也沒(méi)有系住雙方的感情。

愛(ài)在滿(mǎn)格時(shí)是香港這邊的譯名，可是當(dāng)手機(jī)信號(hào)滿(mǎn)格時(shí)，男主角打不通愛(ài)人的電話(huà)，小男孩也無(wú)法與母親進(jìn)行一個(gè)簡(jiǎn)單的問(wèn)候，這里有愛(ài)嗎？我想可能是單向的愛(ài)，不管身處城市還是草原，不管你是需要還是被需要的，愛(ài)總不是雙向的。愛(ài)在滿(mǎn)格時(shí)，表面上看當(dāng)手機(jī)信號(hào)滿(mǎn)格，你就能撥通思念之人的電話(huà)，向其訴說(shuō)你的愛(ài)意，但總是會(huì)有陰差陽(yáng)錯(cuò)，使愛(ài)意不能即時(shí)雙向地給予反饋。harvest moon，秋天對(duì)草原來(lái)說(shuō)是一個(gè)悲涼的季節(jié)，割草、準(zhǔn)備轉(zhuǎn)場(chǎng)，家人孩子幫忙后即要分別，所以也可以說(shuō)秋天本就寓意著離別，自古逢秋悲寂寥可能也是如此；當(dāng)男主角割完草就要回到城里，割草機(jī)的出現(xiàn)加快了其進(jìn)程，分別也突然提上了日程，小男孩與男主的緣分也意味著結(jié)束，就像夢(mèng)醒時(shí)分，終究會(huì)回到現(xiàn)實(shí)。

近些年的蒙古電影大多都是圍繞離開(kāi)和歸來(lái)兩個(gè)主題，抹不掉的是家人和故土的羈絆，向往的卻又是現(xiàn)代化的生活，其實(shí)還是有些模板化了，但這些又是現(xiàn)實(shí)中正在發(fā)生的，又避免不了?？偠灾?，還是一部較為質(zhì)樸、真實(shí)的電影，就像片名的原意，相遇即為緣分，秋日不復(fù)返，記憶永留存。