Hong Kong, as a British colony for one-hundred years, took its modern cultural cues from the West. Young modern Hong Kong people have always looked to Britain and the United States for inspiration for their own popular culture, be it music, movies, or television.
The people who worked at TVB during the 1970s and 1980s were influenced by the great Western auteurs of the era. As far as TVB was concerned, its scriptwriters and directors were taking their cues from the great filmmakers of the era...filmmakers such as Martin Scorsese, Roman Polanski, and Francis Ford Coppola. TVB actors such as Chow Yun Fat were studying the work of great Western leading men as Dustin Hoffman, Robert Redford, Paul Newman, Jack Nicholson, and even veteran actors such as Humphrey Bogart, Cary Grant, and Gregory Peck for inspiration. To be the best, one must first learn from the best.
What is the current generation of Hong Kong scriptwriters and actors being inspired by? Reality TV? MTV? HANNAH MONTANA? Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, and Jon and Kate Gosselin? The quality of Western pop culture has gone down too in the past thirty years, so it's not unexpected that this is also reflected in the Hong Kong pop culture that is derived from it.
ÊèǹÊÓ¤ÑÍÂèҧ˹Ö觷Õè·ÓãËé«ÕÃÕÊìã¹Âؤ¹Ñé¹ÍÂÙè㹤ÇÒÁ·Ã§¨Ó¢Í§¼Ù餹¤×ͺ·à¾Å§»ÃСͺ·Õèà»ÕèÂÁ´éǤÇÒÁä¾àÃÒЧ´§ÒÁ µÍ¹¹Ñé¹Îèͧ¡§Áչѡáµè§à¾Å§ÃдѺà«Õ¹¤×Í Joseph Koo (¤¹áµè§·Ó¹Í§) áÅÐ James Wong (¤¹áµè§à¹×éÍÃéͧ) ÍÕ¡·Ñ駾ǡà¢ÒÂѧÁչѡÃéͧ¤Ø³ÀÒ¾¨Ó¹Ç¹ÁÒ¡
Jean-Jacques Rousseau is a figure of continued importance for us, and for the problems – social, political, cultural, personal – that we face today, even though he died over a quarter of a millennium ago. He had an insight into the problems of living and of living well in competitive, hierarchical and status-conscious societies such as his own and the ones we still live in today. He also had some solutions, both individual and political, to the problems of modern life. Those solutions have struck many people, and not altogether wrongly, as dangerous and impractical. Still, they continue to inform, either directly or indirectly, a great deal of modern thinking on legitimacy, freedom, justice and social order.
ã¹Ë¹Ñ§Ê×Í Doctor Zhivago ¢Í§ Pasternak Áյ͹˹Öè§ã¹º· Varykino ·Õèà¢Õ¹¶Ö§ Chekhov
“What I have come to like best in the whole of Russian literature is the childlike Russian quality of Pushkin and Chekhov, their modest reticence in such high-sounding matters as the ultimate purpose of mankind or their own salvation. It isn’t that they didn’t think about these things, and to good effect, but to talk about such things seemed to them pretentious, presumptuous. Gogol, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky looked restlessly for the meaning of life, and prepared for death and balanced accounts. Pushkin and Chekhov, right up to the end of their lives, were absorbed in the current, specific tasks imposed on them by their vocation as writers, and in the course of fulfilling these tasks they lived their lives, quietly, treating both their lives and their work as private, individual matters, of no concern to anyone else. And these individual things have since become of concern to all, and their works, like apples picked while they are green, have ripened of themselves, mellowing gradually and growing richer in meaning.”
I hope this letter doesn’t give you the impression that I’ve quite lost my mind with delirium over Paris and France. I assure you I’m writing in complete command of my skeptical intelligence, and that I’m deliberately courting the risk of sounding moronic, which is about the worst thing that could happen to me. I feel compelled to inform you “in person” that Paris is the capital of the world and that you must come here. No one who hasn’t been here can claim to be more than half human or any sort of European. It is free, open, intellectual in the best sense, and ironic in its magnificent pathos. Every cab driver here is wittier than any one of our authors. We really are a miserable lot. Here everyone smiles at me; I love all the women, even the oldest of them, to the point of contemplating matrimony; I could weep when I walk over the Seine bridges; for the first time in my life I am shaken by the aspect of buildings and streets..
âÂà«¿ âøàËÁ×͹¡ÑºÊൿҹ «äÇ¡ì áÅйѡà¢Õ¹ÂØâûµÐÇѹÍÍ¡ã¹Âؤ¹Ñé¹ ·ÕèËŧÃÑ¡»ÒÃÕÊáÅнÃÑè§àÈÊ ËÅѧ¨Ò¡»Õ 1925 à»ç¹µé¹ÁÒ ½ÃÑè§àÈÊ¡ÅÒÂà»ç¹ºéÒ¹ãËÁè¢Í§âø à¢ÒÍÍ¡µÃÐàǹ仵ÒÁàÁ×ͧµèÒ§æ áÅéÇà¢Õ¹º·¤ÇÒÁ¡ÅѺä»Âѧ˹ѧÊ×;ÔÁ¾ìã¹àÂÍÃÁѹ «Ö觷Ñé§ËÁ´ä´éÃÇÁÍÂÙèã¹Ë¹Ñ§Ê×Í Report From a Parisian Paradise, Essays From France 1925-1939
¼ÁªÍºµÍ¹ In the French Midi áÅÐ The White Cities «Öè§à¢Òà¢Õ¹¶Ö§àÁ×ͧµèÒ§æ·Ò§µÍ¹ãµé¢Í§½ÃÑè§àÈÊ ÍÒ·Ô Marseille, Nice, Avignon, Nimes, Arles ÏÅÏ ÍÂèÒ§µÍ¹·Õèà¢Õ¹¶Ö§ÁÒÃì¡à«Âì “I love the noise of Marseille.. This isn't France anymore. It's Europe, Asia, Africa, America. It's white, black, red, yellow.” ËÃ×͵͹·Õèà¢Õ¹¶Ö§àÁ×ͧ¹Õ« “The town of Nice looks as if it had been dreamed up by society novelists and populated by their heroes.”
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