弗兰克

Frank的私心也太过明显，想出名，想让全世界看到他的才华，他利用Jon，毫不手软的花光了Jon的积蓄，甚至以无比可信的态度伪心夸赞Jon的才华。

Jon的才能其实在与乐队生活的这段时间其实已经被引导出来，只是他的作品和乐队的走向南辕北辙，如果自己的歌在被Frank和Clara完全改掉的时候就意识到这一点并选择离开，开辟自己的道路，会不会是另外一番光景？

所谓的致郁，其实这里的每一个角色都在依附并寄望于他人，Frank依附在Jon宣传乐队的能力，Jon把野心依附在乐队上，Clara将自己的音乐乌托邦寄望在Frank身上，Don太清楚自己才华有限又无所寄望，选择了最彻底的离开。

惟愿随势、顺势完成自我，不依附、不寄望。

说弗兰克之前，先要说梵高。

梵高是个天才，或者说，梵高最终被炒作成了天才。

但是，大部分艺术史学者都会告诉你，梵高的心理疾病阻碍了他的艺术创作。

换句话说，梵高的绘画能力和他的心理问题没有因果关系。

不是说，因为梵高得了焦躁抑郁症（或者癫痫，或者美尼尔。。。

看你相信哪种理论），才成就了他的绘画天赋。

恰恰相反，梵高本来就对色彩表现很有灵感，心理疾病让他无法专注创作，甚至英年早逝（自杀）。

弗兰克跟梵高的处境差不多，唯一不同的是，我并不认为他是一个梵高级别的天才（如果梵高真的是天才的话。。。

这一点上我有所保留）。

说实话，电影也根本没有把他当成一个天才来表现。

电影里有些人物把他当成天才，但是他本身到底是不是天才，其实电影本身并没有定论。

但是很多人在看完弗兰克之后，理所应当的就把这个电影理解成“不被世俗理解充满童真的天才，改变自我去迎合世俗，最终返璞归真”的文青故事。

而在我看来，这其实是一个“本来有希望成为天才的人如何被心理疾病毁掉音乐前途，最终只能自得其乐，但其实也不错”的故事。

我没看之前也一直以为这是一个“不被世俗理解的天才”的故事，一个神经质，不愿意长大的彼得潘，不愿意承担责任，却以一种童真吸引周围失去童真的人，在他身上获得一种满足感。

电影前半段也的确是这样一个故事，一群不用工作，神奇的有吃有穿，整天被一些形而上的“first world problem”折磨的hipster 的故事。

但是电影后半段慢慢开始把这个只存在于乐队视角中的独立王国跟现实世界结合在一起。

我想大部分人会同情特立独行的弗兰克和他同伴，也有人会对乔恩心怀怨念。

但是乔恩又有何过错？

弗兰克的伙伴们以不知所以然的弗兰克为中心搭建了一个虚构世界，而外来的乔恩不过是捅破了这层含情脉脉的窗户纸而已。

于是摘掉头套的弗兰克只能投奔父母，失去弗兰克的乐团只能在空无一人的酒吧演唱，乔恩则面对真正的弗兰克，一个家庭幸福的精神病人，一个本来很有前途但是却被精神病拖累的伪天才。

大家都从乔恩的镜子里看到了真正的自己：没有才华，毛病大把，根本没有独立生存能力，对自己的价值存在不切实际幻想的几个音乐票友。

最终，弗兰克和伙伴们又回到了自己建造的空中楼阁。

但是，如果不考虑生计问题（电影人物大多不会考虑这些），只要自己过得开心又有什么不好呢？

===我忍不住要冒天下之大不讳说一句：这个电影的音乐真的是非常难听。

不好意思，说我是俗人也好，不懂独立音乐的精神也好，我当真是无法欣赏这种连调子都没有的音乐，配乐也各种吱哇乱叫。。。

拜托，并不是说把风马牛不相及的音效混在一起就叫天才的好吗。

Frank 纵然是一个无可争议的可疼可爱又独特非常的角色，但Jon这根“搅屎棍”却让我很感兴趣。

如果非要从这部并不喜剧的电影里看出一点阳光，我想说他的存在带来的是一种莫名的伤感，和淡淡的希望。

Jon最大的问题，就是试图带这个不正常的乐队进入一个“正常”的世界。

一个意外到近乎荒诞的契机，让他和Frank的乐队有了交集，对于这个整日快要溺毙在办公室里做着无处实现的音乐美梦的年轻人，乐队是能帮他梦想靠岸的一大把稻草，是他能抓住的一切，因此他义无反顾地砸了进去。

电影的开篇是愉悦的，一个把所见所想都尽力唱出来的音乐“才子”，你认为他是怀才不遇；一支神经兮兮浑身上下都在抖动着音符和灵感的“鬼才”乐队，你觉得他们大有可为。

于是bang地一声，两者的碰撞制造出一种莫大的惊喜，也给了你一种严重的错觉——好戏拭目以待。

第一次登台合作的逼仄小酒馆，听众寥寥。

但事后想想这其实是他们最棒的一次合作，因为此时还未抱定他遥不可及的幻象的Jon相对纯粹，所以即使暴躁的Clara毁了这场演出，但Frank与Jon无比呆萌的对视还是表达了前者对后者的认可。

看到这里的时候我一边开心一边暗暗地有些嫉妒Jon，我始终觉得他代表着的是这个世界上的大多数，平凡到苍白的经历和背景加上半瓶子咣当的个性与才华，阻碍在他与梦想之间的几乎是这地球上存在的一切。

不清楚多少人能在他身上看到自己——游走在坚持与否的岌岌可危的悬崖，梦想的下一步就像那些永远在溜走的歌词一样捋不清楚。

因此Frank发现了他，对我们来说竟是种巨大的安慰。

可有些梦真该被早点叫醒。

对Jon来说，这个乐队是他拥抱梦想的巨大机会；但对于乐队，彼此就只是彼此，音乐就只是音乐。

这差异不可弥合。

所以在爱尔兰朝夕相处的木屋里，沉浸在共同创作音乐的平和表象中，所有观者都跟在Jon身后盼着他的努力能够得来认可，但直到最后一刻，等到的却仍是以Clara为代表的其他成员的可怕态度：“我不知道为什么Frank选中了你但你让我厌恶。

”这股欢脱祥和气氛下的巨大暗涌，事实上已预示了那梦想衰落的走向。

那么，Frank，何以才华横溢又魅力四射的Frank偏偏看中了Jon？

——因为Frank是这群不正常的人之中最不正常的一个呀。

Frank在以一颗孩童般纯真的心脏创造音乐，所以他的才华才会格外显得光彩夺目，所以是他成为了乐队的核心领袖。

他有着能够安慰他人的奇异力量，让没度成假的一家人带着焕然一新的灵魂满足离去，他也会在音乐节上得知可能并没有那么多人喜欢他们时沮丧得钻到桌子底下。

他是“love you all”的Frank，让你的眼中盈满泪水，这样一个孩子般的人是不可能洞悉Jon眼中世俗的欲望的，爱是他与这个世界联结的唯一量度，也是他唯一希望从音乐中所获得的东西。

因此Jon用视频点击率证明他们的“成功”，Frank理解为得到了喜爱；因此Frank珍惜Jon音乐上的珍贵，Jon却看到了自己梦想实现的指日可待。

于是这两个人，在完全曲解了对方的意图后达成了某种错误的彼此信任，拼了命抱着惨不忍睹的坚持。

而失败可想而知。

Frank不怪Jon，他根本不知道什么是怨恨。

没有了Frank的乐队和没有了乐队的Frank都颓败得让人心疼，所以Jon做了他唯一能做的事，将命中注定在一起的他们再度聚合到彼此身边。

这家酒馆更加破败不堪，可却在Frank口中成了信手拈来的词。

没有人在听，但音乐的力量明明振聋发聩。

Jon看着，微笑着；再一个镜头，他不见了。

这个不正常的群体，怎么容得下他。

至于Jon的未来，也许他能找到志同道合的伙伴迸发自己的音乐才能，到达他的furthest corners；而也许他最终只是一个做梦的人。

但在那个小酒馆的舞台上，和乐队第一次合作的夜晚；在这个小酒馆的舞台下，最后一次做乐队听众的夜晚，我相信他找到了自我。

它能教会他如何走下去。

抛开人物原型不谈，单纯看这部片子的构成的话，它其实和音乐没啥关系，也和所谓天才与平庸没啥关系，它重要的是人对于自己的认知，对于团体的认知，对于环境的认知。

Jon理解自己的平庸，只是拒绝承认。

"I may not be the best, but I'm far from the worst"，别说，我太懂努力了那么多那么久依然只是piece of shit的感受，也懂那种拼命想要融入团体，无法表达自我，被他人否定和排挤的感受（btw，即使如此，我也更乐意能像Jon一样，如果首先否定自己的话，下场只会像前两任键盘手一样，厚脸皮的人至少能有更多的机会）Frank理解自己的才华，也知道有人欣赏他，但他希望更多人能理解，渴望与世界构建连接，奢望改变别人的想法，这也是他不断妥协和尝试的原因。

Don理解自己的平庸，并把自己和一个无法企及的存在做比较，他想变成一个永远不可能成为的人。

Jon和Don都在钻自己的牛角尖。

我们很难从影片中直观感受到其余几人的能力和水平，但是他们对于自己之外的世界是完全不了解的，也很排斥去了解。

他们对自身是另类这件事有清楚的认知，并且切断了与其他欣赏他们才能的人连接的可能。

我想他们应该才是经历过痛苦的人，而不是Frank。

现在，每个人都对自身的情况有了基本的认知，可以举着自己的标签和环境对号入座了。

Jon，你选择离开了乐队，因为长达一年时间的努力得以看清了，你即使把自己逼到极限，即使做出牺牲，你还是不属于那个录音室，不属于舞台，你没有自己的东西。

Don，你选择离开了所有的环境，因为你在以你自己为最小单位的环境中，都是无法认可自己的（当然这和他的精神疾病也有关系）。

Clara，你们继续留在原地，不被其他人接受，也不在乎其他人的看法，只是在此时此刻此处，三人之间是互相理解的。

而Frank，你是在影片中是唯一做出了改变的人，你尝试走入新的环境中，你渴望被接纳和理解。

但是你最后还是回到了原来的乐队中，因为当你踏出脚步以后，发现其实你只有在那个小环境里，才能做自己，才不会失控，你自己没有强大到可以独立构建连接，改变别人的看法（当然这和他的精神疾病也有关系）你的压力系统仅可支持你在森林中唱歌，最好再带上头套。

千篇一律的办公室也好，网路上的乐子人也好，排挤你的森林小屋也好，所有的环境都是一坨狗屎。

那么，就在各自被接纳的环境里生存吧。

不强迫你摘下头套的地方，也就如同可以摘下头套顺畅呼吸一般。

影片的画幅构图非常漂亮。

色调非常漂亮。

只是这个故事压抑的透不过气来。

弗兰克，一个音乐怪才，洗澡，进食都不脱下头套，与同样性情乖戾的人组建乐队，远离城市和人群，在那个世界里，他们自由自在。

常规意义上的，有着音乐梦想的正常人进入他们的世界，并试图带领他们进入正常的世界，结果，失败了。

在正常的世界里，他们也曾努力融入，却依旧无法呼吸。

如此，他们退回到自己原先的地方。

有人会好奇：“他们为什么如此？

”悲惨的童年？

或是意外的打击？

答案是：什么都没发生过，他们仅仅是怪，天性如此，仅此而已。

对着这样的群体，爱护他，就是不去打扰他。

像易碎的玻璃，让它安静地待在自己的世界里，靠近它，就有摧毁它的可能。

我只是覺得，當紅的法九組可能真的太忙了。。。

我幾乎把他主演過的電影都看過了。。。

只是這一部，我遲遲沒有，當我知道他在這部電影裏大多數時候都會帶著頭套演出。。。

沒有辦法看到任何表情完全只靠聽聲音和身體語言的表演，是多麼沮喪的事。。。

當然還有他英俊的臉。。。

最後我還是看了，非常另類怪誕天馬行空創意無限對白幽默風趣精彩的真人真事改編的看不到法鯊英俊的臉的奇情電影。

好看嗎？

電影是好看的，喜歡另類風格電影的朋友會很喜歡。

雖然我嚴重懷疑，法鯊真的太忙了，而其他人的檔期也已敲定，所以編劇為了他把他的角色設定為從頭到尾都是戴著頭套演出的樣子。

然後飾演經紀人的那個也因為某些不知名的原因莫名其妙的被自殺掉⋯⋯只能說編劇太牛逼，電影叫做《Frank》，卻是法斯賓德最不「坦白」的一次表演。

只有最後15分鐘才開始露臉。

然後流著淚唱「我愛你們大家。。。

」Reasonable doubt……

随手搜的，先摘过来，有空翻一下。

以下节选自Frank: The True Story that Inspired the Movie该书，书的作者Jon Ronson是剧本的Co-writer，也即电影中Jon的原型。

更新，大概是不会翻译了，其实单词很简单很好理解，而且和电影里的对话非常像呢，可见改编之忠实。

In 1987 I was 20 and the student union entertainments officer for the Polytechnic of Central London. One day I was sitting in the office when the telephone rang. I picked it up."So Frank's playing tonight and our keyboard player can't make it and so we're going to have to cancel unless you know any keyboard players," said a frantic voice.I cleared my throat. "I play keyboards," I said."Well you're in!" the man shouted."But I don't know any of your songs," I said."Wait a minute," the man said.I heard muffled voices. He came back to the phone. "Can you play C, F and G?" he said.The man on the phone said I should meet them at the soundcheck at 5pm. He added that his name was Mike, and Frank Sidebottom's real name was Chris. Then he hung up.When I got to the bar it was empty except for a few men fiddling with equipment."Hello?" I called.The men turned. I scrutinised their faces. In the three hours since the phone call I'd learned a little about Frank Sidebottom – how he wore a big, fake head and there was much speculation about his real identity. Some thought he might be the alter ego of a celebrity, possibly Midge Ure, the lead singer of Ultravox, who was known to be a big Frank Sidebottom fan. Which of these men might be Frank? If I looked closely would there be some kind of facial clue?Then I became aware of another figure kneeling in the shadows, his back to me. He began to turn. I let out a gasp. Two huge eyes were staring at me, painted onto a great, imposing fake head, lips slightly parted as if mildly surprised. Why was he wearing the head when there was nobody there to see it except for his own band? Did he never take it off?"Hello, Chris," I said. "I'm Jon."Silence."Hello ... Chris?"Nothing."Hello ... Frank?" I tried."HELLO!" he yelled.Another of the men came bounding over to me. "You're Jon," he said. "I'm Mike Doherty. Thank you for standing in at such short notice.""So," I said. "Maybe we could run through the songs? Or ... ?"Frank's face stared at me."Frank?" Mike said."OH YES?""Can you teach Jon the songs?"At this Frank raised his hands to his head and began to prise it off, turning slightly away, like he was shyly undressing. I thought I saw a flash of something under there, some contraption attached to his face."Hello, Jon," said the man underneath. He had a nice, ordinary face. He gave me a sheepish smile, as if to say he was sorry that I had to endure all the weirdness of the past few minutes but it was out of his hands.Before I knew it we were onstage. As we played I watched it all – the band assiduously emulating the tinny pre-programmed sounds of a cheap, children's keyboard, the enraptured audience, and Frank, the eerie cartoon-character frontman, his facial expression immobile, his singing voice a high-pitched nasal twang.After that night – the greatest of my life – a year passed. Life went back to normal. Then Mike phoned and asked if I wanted to be in Frank's band full time. So I quit college and moved to Manchester.And there I was, in the passenger seat of a Transit van flying down the M6 in the middle of the night, squeezed between the door and Frank Sidebottom. Those were my happiest times – when Chris would mysteriously decide to just carry on being Frank. Nothing makes a young man feel more alive and on an adventure than speeding down a motorway at 2am next to a man wearing a big fake head. I'd watch him furtively as the lights made his cartoon face glow yellow and then black and then yellow again.I am writing this 26 years later. The music journalist Mick Middles recently sent me his not-yet-published biography Frank Sidebottom: Out of His Head. His book captures perfectly that "rarest of journeys" when an onlooker got to see the man born Chris Sievey turn into Frank. "The moment the head is placed the change occurs. Not merely a change in attitude or outlook but a journey from one person to the other. I completely believe that Chris was born as two people." Middles likens Chris to transgender people, trapped in the wrong body.I never understood why Chris sometimes kept Frank's head on for hours, even when it was only us in the van. Under the head Chris would wear a swimmer's nose clip. Chris would be Frank for such long periods the clip had deformed him slightly, flattened his nose out of shape. When he'd remove the peg after a long stint I'd see him wince in pain.Frank's character was of a child in a northern town remaining assiduously immature in the face of adulthood. He was a paean to ordinariness. But Chris wasn't ordinary. He was chaotic. Sometimes, on the way back from some gig, I'd become aware that we were taking a detour to some house somewhere with some women we somehow met along the way. There would be partying while I sat outside on the sofa.In the van I'd listen to Chris's stories, trying to understand him. He reminded me of George Bernard Shaw's unreasonable man: "The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man." Chris was the unreasonable man, except the world never did adapt to him and he never made any progress. Like when Frank was asked to support the boy band Bros at Wembley. There were 50,000 people in the crowd. This was a huge stage for Frank – his biggest ever, by about 49,500 people. It was his chance to break through to the mainstream. But instead he chose to perform a series of terrible Bros cover versions for five minutes and was bottled off. The show's promoter, Harvey Goldsmith, was glaring at him from the wings. Frank sauntered over to him and said, "I'm thinking of putting on a gig at the Timperley Labour Club. Do you have any tips?"We crisscrossed Leeds and Bury and Sheffield and Liverpool playing the same venues over and over again. Time passed and the audiences grew to 750 and sometimes even 1,000. It was consequently baffling for me to become aware of a growing sense of discontent in the van. Chris had been asking friends to perform cameos between the songs on his records. In this spirit he had asked his brother-in-law's friend Caroline Aherne to voice the part of Frank's neighbour, Mrs Merton. Afterwards, Caroline decided to keep Mrs Merton going. She somehow got her own TV show, The Mrs Merton Show. She won a Bafta. Her followup series, The Royle Family, won about seven. The Royle Family Christmas specials attracted audiences of 12 million. And meanwhile we were crisscrossing Manchester and Bury and Leeds and Sheffield and Liverpool in our Transit van.The band's guitarist Patrick Gallagher told Middles: "It wasn't Caroline's fault. Chris was totally out of control. Whereas, say, Caroline Aherne had a single vision and could just pursue that, Chris might have a fantastic idea, and then, just as the point where it might actually get somewhere, he would spin off onto something completely different. That's OK for a while but it tended to piss people off because they never knew where they stood."Suddenly everyone around us was becoming famous. My next-door neighbour Mani had a band. They became The Stone Roses. Our driver, Chris Evans, left us to try and make it in radio. By 2000 he was earning £35m in a year, making him Britain's highest-paid entertainer.There is always a moment failure begins. A single decision that starts everything lumbering down the wrong path, speeding up, careering wildly, before lurching to a terrible stop in a place where nobody is interested in hearing your songs any more.With Frank I can pinpoint that moment exactly."Chris wants to have a rehearsal," Mike told me one day."Why would Chris want to rehearse?" I said."To take things up a level," Mike said.Chris's house was in a normal, nice, modern cul-de-sac. His children were playing outside. His wife, Paula, answered the door and told me to go to the spare bedroom. I walked up, passing the bathroom and glanced in. Staring back at me from the sink was Frank's head."In here, Jon," I heard Chris shout.I opened the bedroom door. And stopped. A man was standing there, maroon shirt tucked smartly into neat black jeans. As I walked in he started playing a tight soul-funk riff with seeming nonchalance, but I understood it to be an act of aggression."Who ... are you?" I said."I'm Richard," he said. "From the Desert Wolves."I'd like to say that during the years since Richard the bass player took an instant dislike to me – a dislike that only intensified during the months that followed before the band imploded, and climaxed in him yelling that he'd like to break my "keyboard-playing fingers" – he went on to have a disappointing life. But he didn't. He became one of the world's most successful tour managers, looking after Woody Allen and the Spice Girls. He currently manages the Pixies.Richard was not the only proper musician Chris brought in. A skilful guitarist and a saxophone player turned up in the spare bedroom too. We began to sound like an excellent 1980s wedding band.Chris told me to book us the biggest tour we'd ever undertaken. He choreographed it so I would begin the show. I'd walk on stage, alone, into a spotlight, and play a powerful C with my left forefinger. The synth brass tone – the most stirring of all the Casio tones.We hired a people-carrier instead of a Transit van and set off to our first venue. The mood was pumped. The old band members had a certain avant-garde loucheness. But this new band: I felt like I was in a college sports team. We soundchecked. The place was packed. And then I walked out into the spotlight. And in the space of that first song – our classic Born in Timperley (to the tune of Springsteen's Born in the USA) – the audience veered from fevered anticipation into hoping we were playing a weird joke on them into realising with regret that we were not. The NME savaged us. By the end of the tour we were playing to almost-empty houses.Chris returned to Manchester to a court summons. He owed £30,000 in back taxes. On the day of his court appearance the judge told him it was a very serious matter and had he considered a payment plan?"Would a pound a week suffice, m'lud?" he asked."No it would not!" the judge shouted.Chris never actually said to me: "You're fired." But I began to notice in the listings magazines that he was doing solo shows – just him and a keyboard. They were in the same venues we used to play, then in smaller venues, and then eventually there were no shows at all.I moved back to London.Ten years later I was in the park with my son when the phone rang."HELLO!" said Frank Sidebottom."It's been so long. How are you?" I said."Oh I'm very well actually, Mr Ronson," Frank said."Frank," I said. "Will you put Chris on?"Chris filled me in on the past 10 years. Now divorced from Paula, he was an animator on the children's claymation series Pingu. He loved the work but missed Frank and wanted to bring him back from retirement. He was wondering if I'd write something about my time in the band to help him with the comeback. My story was published in the Guardian. My friend, the screenwriter Peter Straughan, asked me if I thought the story could be adapted into a film.Not long after that, Frank was playing at a pub near my flat. I found Chris in a dressing room at the back, Frank's head in a bin bag at his feet."How did you lose so much weight?" I asked."I don't know," he said, looking pleased."Well, whatever you're doing," I said, "you look great."We walked across Kentish Town Road so Chris could buy some cigarettes. He'd already given us his approval on the film and I told him the latest news. FilmFour wanted to fund its development. But – and Chris and I shuffled awkwardly around the question – what would the film actually be about? Specifically, Chris wondered, would Chris be in it? Chris had always said we could do what we wanted with the story. But he was worried that however the film might depict Chris, any reality would surely damage Frank.I had similar concerns. Chris portrayed himself as untroubled. While a total dearth of anxiety was a fantastically enviable character trait in real life, how could we write a film about a man who just didn't care when everything went wrong and in fact found disaster funny? And if Chris was secretly more obsessive about Frank than he let on, how would he feel if the film reflected that? But there was a solution. What if we fictionalised the whole thing? It could be a fable instead of a biopic – a tribute to people like Frank who were just too fantastically strange to make it in the mainstream.I set off for America to research other great musicians who'd ended up on the margins – Daniel Johnston, Captain Beefheart, the Shaggs. A week after I returned, I saw Frank Sidebottom's name trending on Twitter. I clicked on the link and it said "Frank Sidebottom dead". I wondered why Chris had decided to kill off Frank. So I clicked another link:Stars lead tributes as Frank Sidebottom comic dies at 54Chris Sievey, famous as his alter ego Frank Sidebottom, was found collapsed at his home in Hale early yesterday. It is understood that his girlfriend called an ambulance and he was taken to Wythenshawe Hospital, where his death was confirmed.Manchester Evening News, 22 June 2010 When I'd told Chris at our last meeting how thin he looked – he didn't know it then, but it had been throat cancer.Frank Sidebottom comic faces pauper's funeralThe comic genius behind Mancunian legend Frank Sidebottom is facing a pauper's funeral after dying virtually penniless. Chris Sievey had no assets and little money in the bank, his family have revealed.Manchester Evening News, 23 June 2010A pauper's funeral? What did that involve? A journey back in time 200 years? I sent out a tweet. Within an hour 554 people had donated £6,950.03. By the end of the day it was 1,632 donors raising a total of £21,631.55. The donations never stopped. We had to stop them.A Timperley village councillor, Neil Taylor, started his own fund-raising campaign for a memorial statue – Frank cast in bronze. He sent me photographs of its journey from the foundry in the Czech Republic to its final resting place outside Johnson's the dry cleaners in Timperley. In the photographs, Frank looked like he'd been kidnapped but was fine with it.And now our Frank film – directed by Lenny Abrahamson and starring Michael Fassbender, Maggie Gyllenhaal and Domhnall Gleeson, is going to be premiered at the Sundance film festival. As I prepare to go to it, I remember something Chris once said to me. It was late one night, and we were in the van, reminiscing about a show we'd played a few weeks earlier at JB's nightclub in Dudley. It was very poorly attended. There can't have been more than 15 people in the audience. One of them produced a ball, the audience split into teams and, ignoring us, played a game. In the van, Chris smiled wistfully."That Dudley gig," he said."Ah ha?" I said."Best show we ever played," he said.

天才在左疯子在右 而大多数人还是走中间道在影片开头和结尾，都有类似的场景，喊着”Be careful”骑车的少年，在自己门口擦车的中年男子，手挽手经过的老年夫妇。

Jon的家乡或是Frank的家乡，堪萨斯州，布拉夫市，他们分享了类似的童年。

Jon一直以为他不及frank是因为frank有悲惨的童年或类似的经历，其实并没有，frank生来就是不同的， he is born to be different。

才华，天赋，热情，善良他都有，他能让素不相识的陌生人通过短暂交流敞开心扉，是，他有这种力量，他也有光洁的容颜，可是他偏要带上头套。

他想让世界认可他的音乐，所以站在了Jon的身边，但是在SXSW的音乐节现场，在Jon唱起他的糖水可乐时，Frank终于还是崩溃了，蹦出一句话——“YOUR MUSIC IS SHIT.”是，Jon is Jon, Frank is Frank.他们想要角色互换，但最后失败了。

——You play C F &G？

——yeah？

——you’re in. see？

这支乐队给予Jon的任务就是这个，keyboard，可以是Don、lucus or Jon，但是主唱FRANK只有一个，he’s the core.于Jon来说，他是有功利心的，没有音乐的纯粹感和利己的坚持，他要迎合大众做流行感强的音乐，他想要融入队伍，想要在这支乐队中获得地位，他并没有get到这支看似freak的乐队的G点，他搞砸了。

而Frank，他的音乐灵感可以来自自然，来自一切，任何东西都能成歌，地毯上的线头，墙，等等，都可以，但是YouTube上的观众看他和Clara却像是怪胎，他有孩童的天真，clara能懂他，保护他，很赞的乐队呢为什么要靠点击率来证明呢，忠于自己，忠于内心。

好在影片最后，Jon把Frank带到EL madrid，带回乐队，Frank低头拘谨的打招呼，然后逐渐抬头，看着他的朋友，热泪盈眶——I love you all. The chorus. Welcome back, frank.

我觉得其实是一个很简单的关于追寻的故事。

对这世界上大多数人来说，我们常常犯的错就是妄图追寻不属于或者不适合自己的东西。

你想要绚烂而璀璨的存在，却没有勇气承认那不属于你，所以你假装爱它，你为了得到成功试图改造它，耗尽了所有的力气才明白，有的东西天生就不属于你，而你只是回到你所在的世界就好了。

(好吧,如果给了五分就假定为法鲨的脑残粉,那我就是怎样?你来打我啊→_→)这是以乐队为主题的电影,那首先音乐要过关,结果不仅过关还大大超乎意料之外的好!看着法鲨平时哼哼的水平没想到在frank中表现大有长进(或是平常隐藏能力?)低沉磁性的声音+神经质的肢体语言+逗逼的头套把带有实验性电子性迷幻性的乐队特点表露无遗不愧自己宣传时也桥说要跟昆导拍歌舞片(这是在走伊万的路线么...)其次电影有萌点有笑点有泪点有爆点就是没有尿点故事轻重缓急控制还算可以突发事件层出不穷的同时主线没掉也是关键得分如果说音乐+2故事+2那最后的一分就是我自己的心情原因了这部片子让我想起了00年之后有段独立电影大爆发的时期圣丹斯也是在那个时候慢慢走进大家眼帘成为了每年必须关注的电影节其中之一而就是这些独立小制作,可能也带有一些小清新小文艺色彩吧?的作品又带来了一批优秀的演员,其中不乏现在在好莱坞混迹很好的一些同学.看完这部电影之后我回到家,翻出了JUNO,THUMBSUCKER,LARS AND THE REAL GIRL,LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE,TRANSAMERICA等很多电影开始重温是的,他们都是逗逼的小人物但是他们都在做自己btw,一美那filth里还有frank节目的镜头......