⑴ 急求三篇英文的电影观后感大神们帮帮忙
英文影评:千与千寻(Spirited Away) Animated feature from Japanese master Hayao Miyazaki. A young girl finds herself trapped in a mystical realm, where she must find a way to save her parents - who have been turned into pigs There's something almost criminal about the way Spirited Away took over two years to reach Britain after its original Japanese release. In Japan, Hayao Miyazaki is both commercially successful (his films regularly beat box office records) and highly respected (Akira Kurosawa said: "I am somewhat disturbed when critics lump our works together. One cannot mimimise the importance of Miyazaki's work by comparing it to mine."). In Britain, however, his work has barely got more than a few cursory arts venue screenings. At least Spirited Away - which took the Berlin Golden Bear in 2002 and the Best Animated Film Oscar in 2003 - made it. Better late than never. After the stress of making his last film, 1997's Princess Mononoke, Miyazaki had a breakdown and retired. But he came out of retirement when an idea to create another, lighter film began to take shape. Princess Mononoke was an action-packed epic that ranged across 15th century Japan. For Spirited Away he returned to the quieter - but no less serious - themes that he addressed to a degree in 1988's My Neighbor Tortoro. Both films feature a family moving house, girls getting used to upheaval, and elements of 'Alice In Wonderland'. But where the 1988 film used a few specific motifs from Carroll's book (a plunge into a 'rabbit hole', a version of the Cheshire cat), Spirited Away casts its 10-year-old protagonist, Chihiro (Hragi; or Chase in the US b), fully into a Wonderland, a mystical otherworld populated by animal spirits and gods. Chihiro arrives in this realm by accident. Her parents, heading for their new home, take a road that leads into the woods. Arriving at a dead end, they walk down a corridor through a building and emerge in what dad takes to be "an abandoned theme park". It's something like a Japanese Portmeirion, but eerily deserted. While her parents greedily help themselves to food, Chihiro wanders off and meets Haku (Irino; or Marsden), a boy who warns her to leave before dark. She's too late though - a lake has appeared, blocking her route, ghostly forms have populated the town and her parents have turned into pigs. She's trapped. The only way to survive, Haku tells her, is to get work in the bath house that dominates the town. Here "eight million gods rest their weary bones", according to Yubaba (Natsuki; or Pleshette), the witch who runs the establishment. Chihiro makes her way to meet Yubaba with the help of Kamajii (Sugawara; Ogden Stiers), a multi-limbed codger who runs the boiler house, Lin (Tamai; Egan), a serving woman with a taste for "roasted newt", and even a 'Radish God', a giant sumo of a chap with tuber-like appendages. Yubaba is hardly forthcoming - her realm is "no place for humans" - but she's forced to give Chihiro work, thanks to an oath she swore. Chihiro gets work helping Lin. But the management give them the worst jobs - such as assisting a hideous oozing creature they take to be a "Stink God; an extra large stinker at that". It's an entity so foul its smell makes food rot instantaneously, while its suppurations fill the room with a noxious gloop. Chihiro - or Sen as she becomes when Yubaba takes her name as part of her contract - does get by in the bath house, but it's not without further incident. She may lose her identity, but she retains her decency. One act of kindness results in a dangerous spirit, No Face, getting into the bath house and wreaking havoc by playing on the greed of the other employees ("Gold springs from his palms!"). She even gets involved in an adventure that reveals her mysterious bond with Haku. But can she save her parents? It's often said that Katsuhiro Otomo's Akira (1988) is the greatest anime ever. That's as maybe, but every one of Miyazaki's films is a masterpiece, so it's hard to pick just one that stands out. It's also tricky to compare his works with the more traditionally received notion of anime (giant robots, demons with phallic tentacles, telekinetic fighting, atom bomb-style explosions etc). Although Miyazaki insists it's not his role to be didactic, all of his work (notably his second feature Nausicaa Of The Valley Of The Wind and Princess Mononoke) has strong messages about ecology and the human relationship with the natural world. But he's also fascinated with coming-of-age stories, notably about how girls (many of his protagonists are young females) can not only face up to alt responsibility, but also how they can become strong, principled members of society. Here Chihiro is forced to grow up fast, but the process, while gruelling, is not without real benefits, as her understanding of the way society functions and experience of alt emotions develops exponentially. Some aspects of the film are likely to be too foreign for Westerners - we're ignorant of Japanese belief systems, with their hierarchies of entities - but Miyazaki's work has the power to transcend such culturally specific elements. While many of his earlier films drew on European stories (such as 1986's Castle In The Sky, from Swift), the folkloric features he reworks are often universal. But most of all, his team's animation - here utilising more digital techniques, while still being grounded in 2D traditions - is always beautiful and, in places, breathtaking. Locations are atmospheric, details are immaculate (you can identify the flower species in the gardens) and characters are diverse. Yubaba, for example, is a bizarre creation, a stocky woman with a huge head and even bigger hairdo; the bath house itself is stocked with all sorts of weird and wonderful creatures, from a Kermit-like assistant, to creatures reminiscent of his cuddly woodland deity from My Neighbor Tortoro, to troll-like beasts that look related to Maurice Sendak's 'Wild Things'). The only factor that could be seen as mildly misjudged is J Hisaishi's score, which is overbearing in places. It's no wonder the likes of Pixar's John Lasseter (who executive proced the US b) are so full of praise for Miyazaki. He's a true genius, an artist and great filmmaker who happens to work in animation - a medium often belittled as childish in the West. Spirited Away is wonderful. 蜜蜂总动员 Bee Movie review by Roger Ebert From each according to his ability, to each according to his need. -- Karl Marx Applied with strict rigor, that's how bee society works in Jerry Seinfeld's "Bee Movie" and apparently in real life. Doesn't seem like much fun. You are born, grow a little, attend school for three days, and then go to work for the rest of your life. "Are you going to work us to death?" a young bee asks ring a briefing. "We certainly hope so!" says the smiling lecturer, to appreciative chuckles all around. One bee, however, is not so thrilled with the system. His name is Barry B. Benson, and he is voiced by Seinfeld as a rebel who wants to experience the world before settling down to a lifetime job as, for example, a Crud Remover. He sneaks into a formation of ace pollinators, flies out of the hive, has a dizzying flight through Central Park, and ends up (never mind how) making a friend of a human named Vanessa (voice of Renee Zellweger). Then their relationship blossoms into something more, although not very much more, given the physical differences. Compared to them, a Chihuahua and a Great Dane would have it easy. This friendship is against all the rules. Bees are forbidden to speak to humans. And humans tend to swat bees (there's a good laugh when Barry explains how a friend was offed by a rolled-up of French Vogue). What Barry mostly discovers from human society is, gasp!, that humans rob the bees of all their honey and eat it. He and Adam, his best pal (Matthew Broderick), even visit a bee farm, which looks like forced labor of the worst sort. Their instant analysis of the human-bee economic relationship is pure Marxism, if only they knew it. Barry and Adam end up bringing a lawsuit against the human race for its exploitation of all bees everywhere, and this court case (with a judge voiced by Oprah Winfrey) is enlivened by the rotund, syrupy voiced Layton T. Montgomery (John Goodman), attorney for the human race, who talks like a cross between Fred Thompson and Foghorn Leghorn. If the bees win their case, Montgomery jokes, he'd have to negotiate with silkworms for the stuff that holds up his britches. All of this material, written by Seinfeld and writers associated with his television series, tries hard, but never really takes off. We learn at the outset of the movie that bees theoretically cannot fly. Unfortunately, in the movie, that applies only to the screenplay. It is really, really, really hard to care much about a platonic romantic relationship between Renee Zellweger and a bee, although if anyone could pull if off, she could. Barry and Adam come across as earnest, articulate young bees who pursue logic into the realm of the bizarre, as sometimes happened on the "Seinfeld" show. Most of the humor is verbal, and tends toward the gently ironic rather than the hilarious. Chris Rock scores best, as a mosquito named Mooseblood, but his biggest laugh comes from a recycled lawyer joke. In the tradition of many recent animated films, several famous people turn up playing themselves, including Sting (how did he earn that name?) and Ray Liotta, who is called as a witness because his brand of Ray Liotta Honey profiteers from the labors of bees. Liotta's character and voice work are actually kind of inspired, leaving me to regret the absence of B.B. King, Burt's Bees, Johnny B. Goode, and the evil Canadian bee slavemaster Norman Jewison, who -- oh, I forgot, he exploits maple trees.
⑵ 名著读后感，或英语电影影评，1000字以上,要英文的，三篇……谢谢
你不给我加分，怎么对得起我！！！！！！！！！！！！！
英文影评:千与千寻(Spirited Away)
Animated feature from Japanese master Hayao Miyazaki. A young girl finds herself trapped in a mystical realm, where she must find a way to save her parents - who have been turned into pigs
There's something almost criminal about the way Spirited Away took over two years to reach Britain after its original Japanese release. In Japan, Hayao Miyazaki is both commercially successful (his films regularly beat box office records) and highly respected (Akira Kurosawa said: "I am somewhat disturbed when critics lump our works together. One cannot mimimise the importance of Miyazaki's work by comparing it to mine."). In Britain, however, his work has barely got more than a few cursory arts venue screenings. At least Spirited Away - which took the Berlin Golden Bear in 2002 and the Best Animated Film Oscar in 2003 - made it. Better late than never.
After the stress of making his last film, 1997's Princess Mononoke, Miyazaki had a breakdown and retired. But he came out of retirement when an idea to create another, lighter film began to take shape. Princess Mononoke was an action-packed epic that ranged across 15th century Japan. For Spirited Away he returned to the quieter - but no less serious - themes that he addressed to a degree in 1988's My Neighbor Tortoro. Both films feature a family moving house, girls getting used to upheaval, and elements of 'Alice In Wonderland'. But where the 1988 film used a few specific motifs from Carroll's book (a plunge into a 'rabbit hole', a version of the Cheshire cat), Spirited Away casts its 10-year-old protagonist, Chihiro (Hîragi; or Chase in the US b), fully into a Wonderland, a mystical otherworld populated by animal spirits and gods. Chihiro arrives in this realm by accident. Her parents, heading for their new home, take a road that leads into the woods. Arriving at a dead end, they walk down a corridor through a building and emerge in what dad takes to be "an abandoned theme park". It's something like a Japanese Portmeirion, but eerily deserted. While her parents greedily help themselves to food, Chihiro wanders off and meets Haku (Irino; or Marsden), a boy who warns her to leave before dark. She's too late though - a lake has appeared, blocking her route, ghostly forms have populated the town and her parents have turned into pigs. She's trapped.
The only way to survive, Haku tells her, is to get work in the bath house that dominates the town. Here "eight million gods rest their weary bones", according to Yubaba (Natsuki; or Pleshette), the witch who runs the establishment. Chihiro makes her way to meet Yubaba with the help of Kamajii (Sugawara; Ogden Stiers), a multi-limbed codger who runs the boiler house, Lin (Tamai; Egan), a serving woman with a taste for "roasted newt", and even a 'Radish God', a giant sumo of a chap with tuber-like appendages. Yubaba is hardly forthcoming - her realm is "no place for humans" - but she's forced to give Chihiro work, thanks to an oath she swore. Chihiro gets work helping Lin. But the management give them the worst jobs - such as assisting a hideous oozing creature they take to be a "Stink God; an extra large stinker at that". It's an entity so foul its smell makes food rot instantaneously, while its suppurations fill the room with a noxious gloop.
Chihiro - or Sen as she becomes when Yubaba takes her name as part of her contract - does get by in the bath house, but it's not without further incident. She may lose her identity, but she retains her decency. One act of kindness results in a dangerous spirit, No Face, getting into the bath house and wreaking havoc by playing on the greed of the other employees ("Gold springs from his palms!"). She even gets involved in an adventure that reveals her mysterious bond with Haku. But can she save her parents? It's often said that Katsuhiro Otomo's Akira (1988) is the greatest anime ever. That's as maybe, but every one of Miyazaki's films is a masterpiece, so it's hard to pick just one that stands out. It's also tricky to compare his works with the more traditionally received notion of anime (giant robots, demons with phallic tentacles, telekinetic fighting, atom bomb-style explosions etc).
Although Miyazaki insists it's not his role to be didactic, all of his work (notably his second feature Nausicaa Of The Valley Of The Wind and Princess Mononoke) has strong messages about ecology and the human relationship with the natural world. But he's also fascinated with coming-of-age stories, notably about how girls (many of his protagonists are young females) can not only face up to alt responsibility, but also how they can become strong, principled members of society. Here Chihiro is forced to grow up fast, but the process, while gruelling, is not without real benefits, as her understanding of the way society functions and experience of alt emotions develops exponentially.
Some aspects of the film are likely to be too foreign for Westerners - we're ignorant of Japanese belief systems, with their hierarchies of entities - but Miyazaki's work has the power to transcend such culturally specific elements. While many of his earlier films drew on European stories (such as 1986's Castle In The Sky, from Swift), the folkloric features he reworks are often universal. But most of all, his team's animation - here utilising more digital techniques, while still being grounded in 2D traditions - is always beautiful and, in places, breathtaking. Locations are atmospheric, details are immaculate (you can identify the flower species in the gardens) and characters are diverse. Yubaba, for example, is a bizarre creation, a stocky woman with a huge head and even bigger hairdo; the bath house itself is stocked with all sorts of weird and wonderful creatures, from a Kermit-like assistant, to creatures reminiscent of his cuddly woodland deity from My Neighbor Tortoro, to troll-like beasts that look related to Maurice Sendak's 'Wild Things'). The only factor that could be seen as mildly misjudged is Jô Hisaishi's score, which is overbearing in places.
It's no wonder the likes of Pixar's John Lasseter (who executive proced the US b) are so full of praise for Miyazaki. He's a true genius, an artist and great filmmaker who happens to work in animation - a medium often belittled as childish in the West. Spirited Away is wonderful.
蜜蜂总动员 Bee Movie review by Roger Ebert
From each according to his ability, to each according to his need.
-- Karl Marx
Applied with strict rigor, that's how bee society works in Jerry Seinfeld's "Bee Movie" and apparently in real life. Doesn't seem like much fun. You are born, grow a little, attend school for three days, and then go to work for the rest of your life. "Are you going to work us to death?" a young bee asks ring a briefing. "We certainly hope so!" says the smiling lecturer, to appreciative chuckles all around.
One bee, however, is not so thrilled with the system. His name is Barry B. Benson, and he is voiced by Seinfeld as a rebel who wants to experience the world before settling down to a lifetime job as, for example, a Crud Remover. He sneaks into a formation of ace pollinators, flies out of the hive, has a dizzying flight through Central Park, and ends up (never mind how) making a friend of a human named Vanessa (voice of Renee Zellweger). Then their relationship blossoms into something more, although not very much more, given the physical differences. Compared to them, a Chihuahua and a Great Dane would have it easy.
This friendship is against all the rules. Bees are forbidden to speak to humans. And humans tend to swat bees (there's a good laugh when Barry explains how a friend was offed by a rolled-up of French Vogue). What Barry mostly discovers from human society is, gasp!, that humans rob the bees of all their honey and eat it. He and Adam, his best pal (Matthew Broderick), even visit a bee farm, which looks like forced labor of the worst sort. Their instant analysis of the human-bee economic relationship is pure Marxism, if only they knew it.
Barry and Adam end up bringing a lawsuit against the human race for its exploitation of all bees everywhere, and this court case (with a judge voiced by Oprah Winfrey) is enlivened by the rotund, syrupy voiced Layton T. Montgomery (John Goodman), attorney for the human race, who talks like a cross between Fred Thompson and Foghorn Leghorn. If the bees win their case, Montgomery jokes, he'd have to negotiate with silkworms for the stuff that holds up his britches.
All of this material, written by Seinfeld and writers associated with his television series, tries hard, but never really takes off. We learn at the outset of the movie that bees theoretically cannot fly. Unfortunately, in the movie, that applies only to the screenplay. It is really, really, really hard to care much about a platonic romantic relationship between Renee Zellweger and a bee, although if anyone could pull if off, she could.
Barry and Adam come across as earnest, articulate young bees who pursue logic into the realm of the bizarre, as sometimes happened on the "Seinfeld" show. Most of the humor is verbal, and tends toward the gently ironic rather than the hilarious. Chris Rock scores best, as a mosquito named Mooseblood, but his biggest laugh comes from a recycled lawyer joke.
In the tradition of many recent animated films, several famous people turn up playing themselves, including Sting (how did he earn that name?) and Ray Liotta, who is called as a witness because his brand of Ray Liotta Honey profiteers from the labors of bees.
Liotta's character and voice work are actually kind of inspired, leaving me to regret the absence of B.B. King, Burt's Bees, Johnny B. Goode, and the evil Canadian bee slavemaster Norman Jewison, who -- oh, I forgot, he exploits maple trees.
贫民富翁(Slumdog Millionaire)
An orphaned Mum slum kid tries to change his life by winning TV's 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?' in a feelgood fable from director Danny Boyle and the writer of The Full Monty, Simon Beaufoy
Jamal Malik ('Skins' star Dev Patel) is being beaten by Mum police for allegedly cheating on hit TV show 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?' One question away from the ultimate 20 million rupee prize, no one, including slick show host Prem (Anil Kapoor), believes a chai wallah (teaboy) like Jamal could know all the answers. As the tough inspector (Irfan Khan) replays Jamal's appearance on the show, it's revealed that each question corresponds to a specific life lesson from Jamal's tragic past.
Raised in abject poverty in Mum's grimmest slum along with older brother Salim, then orphaned by a Hin mob attack, Jamal and Salim are forced to fend for themselves on the streets through opportunistic petty crime. They pick up a young girl, fellow orphan Latika (Freida Pinto), escape the clutches of a vicious Fagin-like crime boss, lose Latika, and continue their picaresque adventures, one step ahead of the law. As adolescents, however, Salim becomes entranced by a life of crime and Latika's unexpected return sets brother against brother. Will Jamal salvage his girl, his fortune and his life on 'Millionaire'?
Adapted by Full Monty writer Simon Beaufoy from Vikas Swarup's hit novel 'Q&A', Slumdog is an underdog tale. Beaufoy's lively screenplay scampers after Swarup's self-consciously Dickensian storytelling tradition, and is even built around the 'Millionaire' show, as iconic a symbol of Western capitalist entertainment as exists.
Director Danny Boyle and cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle have evidently immersed themselves in India's sensory overload. The film revels in the sub-continent's chaotic beauty and raging colours, from Mum shantytowns to Agra's regal Taj Mahal. The thrillingly off-the-cuff digital imagery reflects a nation in a state of explosive flux, looming skyscrapers erupting from wasteland, slum kids turning into overnight millionaires through the kiss of television. The film's uniquely vibrant, headlong 21st century rush is that of the infinite possibilities of modern India itself.
Slumdog's such a crowd-pleaser that some critics might brand it Boyle's best since Trainspotting . It even echoes a couple of that film's classic set pieces, notably a slum chase reminiscent of Renton and Co's opening Edinburgh dash and a lavatorial incident so stomach-churning (yet hilarious), it makes Trainspotting's infamous toilet scene seem like Ewan McGregor took an Evian bath.
In fact, the likable Boyle has been on great form for some time - 28 Days Later revamped the zombie movie, Millions is perhaps the best kids film of recent years. No other current British director makes such thrillingly current (all his films are set in either the present or future), kinetic, inherently visual films and proper recognition is long overe - though, true to form, he's insistent here on crediting co-director Loveleen Tandan, whose major contribution seems to have been unearthing the wonderfully naturalistic kids to play Jamal, Salim and Latika.
Verdict
A spirited underdog fable marinated in modern India's melting pot. Danny Boyle's still the master of spices.