王家衛講咗三十年嘅同一件事
佢啲戲由頭到尾都喺度講：記憶會走，而我哋想留住佢。
《阿飛正傳》入面，張國榮同張曼玉講嗰句一分鐘：由呢一分鐘開始，你同我做咗一分鐘嘅朋友，呢個事實你抹唔走。
呢句對白之所以三十幾年之後仲有人記得，唔係因為浪漫。係因為佢講嘅係一個好準確嘅願望：想將一段時間釘死，唔畀佢流走。
佢每一齣戲都喺度處理同一個問題
《重慶森林》入面，警察數住鳳梨罐頭嘅到期日，好似只要有個日期，感情就有得計。
《花樣年華》最後，梁朝偉去到吳哥窟，搵個牆窿，將秘密講咗入去，然後用泥封住。
呢個動作幾乎就係「檔案」呢個概念本身：有啲嘢你講唔出口，但係你唔想佢連同你一齊消失，所以你搵個地方擺低佢。
「原來我行咗成半世人，先至喺呢個細鎮，第一次見到雪。」
呢句唔係戲。係我哋做嘅其中一本書入面，一個阿婆自己講嘅。一掃 QR，就聽到佢把聲講呢句。
而現實入面，我哋做得比佢戲入面更差
王家衛啲角色至少有動作：佢哋寫低、佢哋錄音、佢哋去搵個牆窿。
現實入面嘅我哋通常咩都冇做。我哋以為自己記得住阿媽點樣講嘢，直到有一日發現，我哋淨係記得佢講過乜，唔記得佢點樣講。
你手機入面有幾千張佢嘅相。你有幾多秒佢把聲？呢條問題，大部分人第一次諗嗰陣都答唔到。
你嘅牆窿
我哋做嘅書就係呢個意思：一個放得低嘅位。
佢自己講返自己嘅事，我哋照佢嘅講法整成書，每句金句隔籬有個 QR code。三十年之後，你個孫揭到嗰頁，撳一撳，聽到佢阿太把聲。
唔使等到冇咗先諗點留低。今日問一條問題，就係封第一個秘密入牆。
Wong Kar-wai Has Been Making the Same Point for Thirty Years
His films keep saying it: memory leaves, and we would like to keep it.
In Days of Being Wild, Leslie Cheung tells Maggie Cheung about that one minute: from this minute on, we were friends for one minute, and that is a fact you cannot erase.
The reason people still quote it thirty-odd years later is not that it is romantic. It is that it names a very precise wish: to pin a piece of time down so it cannot drain away.
Every one of his films handles the same problem
In Chungking Express, a policeman counts the expiry dates on tins of pineapple, as though a date could make a feeling accountable.
At the end of In the Mood for Love, Tony Leung goes to Angkor Wat, finds a hollow in the wall, speaks his secret into it, and seals it with mud.
That gesture is close to the definition of an archive. There are things you cannot say out loud, and you also do not want them to disappear along with you, so you put them somewhere.
"It took me half a lifetime, and this quiet little town, to see snow for the first time."
Not from a film. From one of the books we made, said by a woman in her eighties. Scan the code beside it and you hear her say it.
In real life we do worse than his characters
Wong's characters at least act. They write it down, they record it, they go and find the hollow in the wall.
In real life most of us do nothing at all. We assume we will always remember how our mother speaks, until the day we notice we remember what she said and not how she said it.
You have thousands of photographs of her on your phone. How many seconds of her voice do you have? Most people cannot answer that the first time they hear it.
Your hollow in the wall
The books we make are exactly that: a place to put it down.
She tells her own story, we set it in her own phrasing, and every line she said carries a code beside it. Thirty years from now a grandchild turns to that page, presses it, and hears her.
You do not have to wait until it is gone to think about keeping it. One question today is the first secret in the wall.
傾一傾，唔使即刻決定Let's talk. No decision needed today.
WhatsApp 我哋WhatsApp Us