查利

（1）俄狄浦斯悲剧 从愚笨的智力残疾者到天才 查理高登完成了肉体上的蜕变 但是情感上仍然是未开化的笨蛋 对凯妮恩的感情和占有体现了经典的恋母情结 正如两个博士争论的那样 情感成长跟不上智力成长 对于查利而言 凯妮恩是智力上的导师是给予他第二次生命的最重要的人 孩童般的依恋到热烈的拥有 我们也已经分不清这究竟是畸形还是感情 查利是特殊的 感情也是 但直到查利和凯妮恩走到一起他才脱变成真正的人 发布会是查利的高光时刻 他棱角分明地展示出自己的特殊自己的聪慧对世事清晰地洞见 以及对台下"顶尖大脑"的嘲讽 随后对尼玛博士的质问象征着弑父的公开处决 至此可以知道查利的故事注定是悲剧的底色 （2）理性的冷色调 两位博士代表的分别是感性和理性 剧中有对实验主导权的争夺 但是尼玛博士总是占据上分 这意味着对理性、智慧、逻辑等因素的偏重但是却忽略了感性和感情对人格的塑造 这直接导致了第一次悲剧（查利对凯妮恩的强迫） 这是社会发展的缩影 科学主义理性主义大行其道却忽视人性的均衡和对感情的重视 也许这样的社会最终培育出的都是一群空有智力而情感白痴的变态吧 （3）查利高登的答案是查利高登即将变成最初的样子 发布会之后查利知晓他最终可能因为实验缺陷退化成原先的样子 对过往被嘲讽被欺凌的恐惧占据了他的内心 那个街角那个秋千那个家 就像小白鼠逃离不了迷宫 他也摆脱不掉那个愚笨的过去的查利高登 但是在酒吧里他看到了另一个自己 一个同样的智力残疾者 这是我最喜欢的一个片段 看到被众人嘲笑的服务员 就像尼采抱着死去的马哭泣一样 查利看到了自己的影子 他走上前蹲下帮着服务员收拾散落的杯子 这一刻他与自己和解 这一刻对荒唐世界的嘲讽达到顶点 （4）Ture love is let it go 我们细究不出最初查利和凯妮恩的感情性质 但是最后凯妮恩已经知道查利最终要变成曾经痴傻的模样 她仍然说出"我们结婚吧""让我留在这里" 这是凯妮恩对查利的承诺 对他真挚的感情 查利只是轻声说到"走吧" 真爱是放手 放开那个用情至深的人 因为明天的我是你的拖累

查利回到了跷跷板上 笑容 单纯 一如最初

受制于电影篇幅，能表现出的原书内容还是很有限，只能表个大概，也没有谈得上大胆出彩的稍稍改编，

有一点是查理刚刚像个人模人样的社会绅士一样给人让过了座，转眼就看到了不久前自己才与他一般的同命人，抱着一大摞堆在托垫上的酒杯，惊慌无助的四周张望，满脸写着“我和你们不一样”，

打翻酒杯，霎时一堂人哗笑，他没有像书里那样对众人愤怒破口起身离去，而是沉默的走近他身旁，弯下腰来，一地狼藉，他陪他捡

“If the plural of mouse is mice, the plural of spouse must be spice.” a wisecrack from our protagonist Charly Gordon (Robertson), trying to convince viewers that it is something a genius would jest with his girlfriend, both sun-drenched, lying on a cozy meadow. But this is not the Charly we know in the beginning, and in hindsight, the opening scene has already presaged the downbeat payoff, Charly is a mentally challenged man who is miraculously cured by an experimental surgery conceived and carried out by the team of two extraordinary scientists Dr. Richard Nemur (Janney) and Dr. Anna Straus (Skala).

Based on Daniel Keyes prestigious short story, Ralph Nelson’s CHARLY faces a daunting task to convince audience the inconceivable transubstantiation from a simpleton to a genius, not on the scientific level (since it is a fantasy as yet unaccomplished), but the giant mental leap of its subject which we can empathize with. So what the movie chooses to present is Charly enunciating a litany of scientific jargon and literary excerpts, as he masters the entire curriculum of an ordinary person’s education within weeks, and his limit seems to be uncapped.

But as an axiomatic belief, intelligence shows more in one’s action than words, what Charly does does not index with his surging I.Q., hyperbolically thrusts his “sudden awakening” libido into a horrendous rape attempt on his night school teacher Alice Kinnian (Bloom) is a low move, a Freudian instinct has very tenuous tie-in with “becoming smart”, more prickly, a flaring-up’s Alice’s retort with that “R” word is a nasty slap on the movie’s own face, maybe in the 60s, “pity sex” is not an option on the filmmakers’ plate, which would be very probable under that scenario.

Weirder and weirder, after a jarring montage of Charly experiencing that era’s counter-culture (aka. motor-riding hippiedom) in the wake of Alice’s spurn, apropos of nothing, the latter has come to her senses that in fact she does love him, they become a pair and enjoy their ephemeral life of Riley, until bad tidings from Charly’s erstwhile competitor, an intelligence-enhanced mouse named Algernon, suggests that Charly’s progress may not be permanent, a reversion seems to be inevitable, but one shouldn’t despair, Charly is always a gaily chump, there is chance that life would be better if he keeps that way.

Winning Cliff Robertson an Oscar for his diametrical impersonations from mentally handicapped to whip smart, Robertson’s performance is anything but groundbreaking, saving from deploying Charly’s before-and-after personas with trite tics and traits, he has little to ginger up the smart Charly’s formulaic, stoical characterization when the story veers into a different direction. Whereas a well-coifed Claire Bloom and a steely Lilia Skala move with true grit in their thinly developed characters, if only Ravi Shankar’s clattering sitar score could save the day, a rather ordinary cinematic adaptation of an instructive tall-tale, Robertson’s Oscar win is a rare fluke, especially picked over Peter O’Toole’s cothurnus-turn in THE LION IN WINTER, a choice the Academy definitely rues from the ground up.

referential entries: Barry Levinson’s RAIN MAN (1988, 8.2/10); Sidney Lumet’s EQUUS (1977, 8.2/10).