情人眼里出西施

庸人哈尔，别名应该是“情人眼里出西施”，还蛮有中国味道的。

简单来说就是一个胖小孩被自家不靠谱老爸的不靠谱遗言所害，长大后只会以貌取人，加上自己长的不出众，所以老是找不到女朋友。后来一位魔术师给他施法，让他只看到女人的内在美，所以他遇到了一位心地善良的胖妹，误以为对方是身材姣好的美女，从而展开一场啼笑皆非的故事。所幸男主最后意识到内在美的重要性，和胖女孩终成眷属。

其实这个题材现在看不是很新鲜，但是毕竟01年的电影，当时题材应该蛮有意思的。电影的寓意很简单，就是不要以貌取人，多看看内在美，虽然现在很多人都是三观跟着五官跑，但是我深切建议一点，对象是要过一辈子的，而她的容貌却不能持续一辈子，三观一致，有共同语言十分重要。当然如果你是有钱有权的人，愿意换一个又一个女人就当我没说。不过，这样的人也不能得到什么爱吧，毕竟他只能给钱，给不了独一份的长久的爱。

值得一提的是，瘦女主，也就是胖女孩的内在美形象是很迷人的，而男主眼里的辣妹，路人眼里的异类丑女的样子也很光彩照人。内在美这种东西虽然不如外表美那么显而易见，但是当你真正察觉到的时候会发现它的魅力比外在更加震撼。

并且，一位品质卑劣的人也会使得原本好看的皮囊变得面目可憎，可能是唯心主义版的相由心生。

看完这部电影，有两处让我几乎落泪，其一是Rosemery和Hal擦身而过的时候没有被认出来，可以想象她当时有多心痛，就像是在山底的时候看不到一点希望，这时候在另外一个人的鼓励下逐渐迈开脚步，朝着山上走，并且在上山的过程中看到的一直是美景，但是忽然出现了悬崖，并且无路可退，只能重重的摔下，这比没上山之前更痛；其二是Hal再次遇到烧伤女孩的时候，我觉得这时候Hal的思想感觉发生了更深层次的变化，他开始感受到什么是真正的美丽。
在这部片子里，我看到了人们普遍存在的一个心理陷阱，正如里面的心理治疗师说的，我们每个人都在被催眠，被各种媒体过滤后的美丽催眠。我们对自己理想的伴侣、理想的生活有各种美好的想象，因此往往忽略身边的现实，而诱发各种不满。自己的需求没有被满足，从而出现各种焦虑、抑郁和不安的不良情绪，同时产生各种心理障碍。还原本来的自己，这也就是心理咨询的作用吧，正如Hal在被心理咨询师催眠后才意识到什么才是真正的美丽。
发现最真实、最原本的自己，也才能获得真正的幸福。

看完之后面对这一千多条短评及几条长评不知道该说什么，只能说这部电影的价值观放到现在已经相当陈旧。

以下是Megan Garber于2021年11月9日在《The Atlantic（大西洋月刊）》上发表的有关《庸人哈尔》的最新评价，我觉得写得蛮好，所以全文搬运以作留档。

先介绍一下Megan Garber这个人，以下文段是大西洋月刊对其的介绍文案： “She is the recipient of a Mirror Award for her writing about the media, and she previously worked as a reporter for the Nieman Journalism Lab and as a critic for the Columbia Journalism Review. At The Atlantic, she writes about the intersection of politics and culture (which often, but not always, means that she writes about reality TV)”

以下是正文：

In 2001, doing press forShallow Hal, Gwyneth Paltrow spent a lot of time talking about the fat suit she wore to play Rosemary, the film’s romantic lead. She spoke in particular about an experiment that she and the film’s makeup-effects designer had undertaken to test the suit’s credibility out in the world. At a fancy hotel in New York, Paltrow donned the fake weight. She walked through the lobby. She walked to the bar. She noticed how people looked at her, and how they refused to. “It was so sad,” she told one reporter. “I didn’t expect it to feel so upsetting,” she told another. “I thought the whole thing would be funny, and then as soon as I put it on, I thought, well, you know, this isn’t all funny.”

Paltrow’s assessment of this experience—apparently funny,not all funny—doubles as a pretty decent review of the film she was trying to promote.Shallow Halis a fat joke with a 114-minute run time. From the moment it premiered, in early November of 2001, it was poorly aged. It’s tempting, 20 years later, to look back onShallow Haland feel we have cause for congratulation: The movie is bad, and we know it’s bad, so progress must have been made. (Paltrow herself, expressing regret last year about her part in the film，call it a “disaster.”) ButShallow Halhas not been relegated to the annals of cinematic shame. On the contrary, it has retained a revealing currency. It has expanded its reach through streaming services, where it is popular and even beloved. And it speaks to a culture that still interprets fatness as a condition that deserves whatever mockery it might get.Shallow Halcould never decide whether Rosemary was a human or a humiliation. Its confusion remains all too timely.

The story goes like this. Hal Larson (played by Jack Black) is a generally sweet guy with an overarching flaw: He judges women by their appearance, refusing to pursue romantic relationships with women who don’t look like models. One day, through the combined forces of magical realism and the self-help seller Tony Robbins, Hal gets an attitude adjustment. Robbins hypnotizes Hal, ensuring that he will see people’s inner beauty reflected on the outside. Then he meets Rosemary Shanahan (Paltrow), who is smart and funny and fun and kind, and who weighs about 300 pounds. Rosemary looks like Gwyneth Paltrow in a fat suit. Filtered through Hal’s new gaze, though, she looks like Gwyneth Paltrow. That interplay of vision and reality—the cosmic wrongness of Hal’s perception—is the film’s defining joke. “The biggest love story ever told,” its promotional poster promises with a wink.

Does the spell eventually break? Does Hal finally see Rosemary as she is? Does this celebration of Rosemary’s personality offer a torrent of jokes about Rosemary’s body? Yes. Over the course of the movie, Rosemary breaks not one but two seats: a flimsy chair at a burger joint and a booth at a fancier restaurant. When she and Hal go canoeing, Hal’s side of the boat tips into the air, like a seesaw trapped in the upswing. And when she and Hal go swimming, Rosemary, diving in, creates a wave so powerful that it deposits a kid into a tree. “Sorry,” she says, somehow both defined by her size and oblivious to it.

Shallow Halwas directed by Peter and Bobby Farrelly, who had previously brought to the worldDumb and Dumber,There’s Something About Mary, and other films known for their giddy unions of humor and heart. In promoting the film, the Farrellys tried to argue thatShallow Halwas similarly nuanced. The people who were offended by the movie, they insisted, had missed the point; the film was challenging callous stereotypes, not endorsing them. It was exploring the meaning of a big body in a world that makes space only for small ones. That it treated Rosemary’s weight as setup and punch line at once was apparently just part of the satire. “This movie’s heart is in the right place,” Peter Farrelly insisted whenShallow Halpremiered. The film’s makeup-effects designer, Tony Gardner—the orchestrator of Paltrow’s fat suit—echoed this claim. The Farrellys, he said, “are not making fun of [Rosemary’s] weight, they are embracing her weight. Peter calls it a valentine for overweight people.”

If so, the film is a dubious gift. And its grim condescensions remain familiar. Rosemary’s primary function inShallow Hal, beyond absorbing the movie’s mockeries of her, is to facilitate Hal’s self-improvement. Both roles are demeaning. But the film suggests that she should be happy for whatever she can get. “Personally, I don’t feel any gratitude for a movie that profits at my expense,” the fat activist Marilyn Wann told theChicago Tribuneshortly afterShallow Halpremiered. The singer Carnie Wilson, whose weight had been tabloid fodder for years, called the movie “hurtful in my heart.”

“Rosemary breaking things” is not the only strain of humor in this film. Shallow Hal also has great fun with the notion of “Rosemary eating things.” Early on, she explains to Hal that she long ago realized she’d be the same size whatever she ate. It is the most empathetic line in the film. (In the world beyond the movie, studies show that some 95 to 98 percent of attempts to lose weight fail.) But the brief moment of grace is overshadowed by the film’s more deeply held conviction: that a fat woman caught in the act of eating is comedy gold. We see, for example, Rosemary and Hal sharing a large chocolate milkshake; when he turns away for a few seconds, she speed-drinks the entire thing. Later, she asks Hal’s co-workers for a piece of the cake they’re carrying—and then helps herself to an extremely large slice. Cut to Rosemary walking away, clutching the cake in both hands as she munches.

No real person would do that. But Shallow Hal, for all its lofty claims of charitable humanism, is not interested in what real life would be like for Rosemary. It is interested merely in mining her body for LOLs. After a while, even its lazy jokes make an accidental argument: They suggest that Rosemary’s body is a problem, not just for her, but for others. Over and over again, her weight—the food she eats, the space she occupies—takes something away from other people, whether it’s a milkshake meant for two or a cake meant for 20 or a pool meant for all. Shallow Hal is bad because it treats Rosemary’s body as comedy. But it is insidious because it treats her body as tragedy.

And the movie casts a long shadow. Many Americans still see other people’s weight in precisely the same way that Shallow Hal does: as a problem that affects everyone (“the obesity epidemic,” “the war on obesity,” etc.), and is therefore the business of anyone. A New York Times column published earlier this year reported that some people had put on pounds as they navigated the traumas of a global pandemic. Noting the correlation between weight and COVID mortality, the piece chided these people for their negligence. Its author went on to explain her superior practice of self-control: “My consumption of snacks and ice cream is portion-controlled, and, along with daily exercise, has enabled me to remain weight-stable despite yearlong pandemic stress and occasional despair.”

The brand of thinking underlying such smugness—that fat people are merely thin people who aren’t trying hard enough—is mythology that easily expands into bigotry. One of the grimmest elements of Shallow Hal is that, underneath it all, it understands Rosemary’s weight to be more than a matter of will. But it mocks her anyway.

The years since Shallow Hal premiered have seen several paradoxes at play in American culture. Scientists have been learning more about the genetic factors that contribute to body weight, and about the metabolic adaptations that make weight loss, if achieved at all, extremely difficult to sustain. Over the same period, bias against fat people has grown. (A Harvard study of some 4 million implicit-bias tests taken between 2007 and 2016 noted a drop in several biases measured, including those related to race and sexual orientation. Bias based on body weight was the only one that increased.) As the lexicon of body positivity has made its tentative forays into American mass culture, that culture as a whole also continues to conflate thinness with wellness, wellness with health, and health with moral superiority.

In one of the decidedly unpoetic ironies of this moment, the woman who described the “sad” minutes she spent navigating the world in a fat suit is helping to enforce those equations. But Paltrow’s is only one voice in a chorus that treats big bodies as deviant bodies: Adele, having lost weight, is portrayed as triumphant; Lizzo, having not, is portrayed as “brave”; Donald Trump is criticized not only on the grounds of his harms, but also on the grounds of his heaviness. The ABC sitcom American Housewife, which ran for several seasons starting in 2016, dedicated its pilot episode to its main character’s realization that, after a woman she calls “Fat Pam” moves away, she will be the “second-fattest” woman in town.

Hollywood has given us many other characters who are thus flattened, among them Fat Amy and Fat Betty and Fat Thor and Fat Monica and Fat Schmidt. It has served up cruelties in the name of comedy. The actor and comedian Olivia Munn, “joking” in her memoir: “I will fix America’s obesity problems by taking all motorized transport away from fat people. In turn, I will build an infrastructure of Fat Tunnels, where all the fat people can walk. This will create jobs and subsequent weight loss.” The comedian Nicole Arbour, in a viral video: “Fat-people parking spots should be at the back of the mall parking lot. Walk to the doors and burn some calories.” The TV host Bill Maher, on his show: “Fat-shaming doesn’t need to end; it needs to make a comeback. Some amount of shame is good.”

What’s notable about the “jokes,” beyond the fact that they barely qualify as jokes at all, is that they are framed as expressions of concern. They embrace Shallow Hal’s wayward logic: that making fun of fat people is a way to help fat people. The creator of Insatiable, the revenge fantasy of a fat-turned-thin teenager that streamed on Netflix starting in 2018, tried to rationalize the show’s bland bigotries in the same way that Shallow Hal’s creators had: by insisting that they were critiquing weight stigma, rather than perpetuating it. The 2018 movie I Feel Pretty takes the Farrellys’ premise—magic that makes one see the world differently—and aims it inward, at a woman who becomes convinced that she looks like a model. The film’s creators also insisted, unconvincingly, that they were going for satire.

When Shallow Hal premiered, some reviews echoed its creators’ marketing messages. The Times dubbed the movie a Critic’s Pick, claiming that the Farrellys “cunningly transform a series of fat jokes … into a tender fable and a winning love story.” Roger Ebert argued that the Farrellys were “not simply laughing at their targets, but sometimes with them, or in sympathy with them”—and concluded that “Shallow Hal has what look like fat jokes … but the punchline is tilted toward empathy.”

The bar, in those assessments, is so low. And it remains low. Shallow Hal’s reviews on Amazon Prime, where it is currently rated 4.7 out of 5 stars, include praise for its “moral message” and its “surprisingly deep premise.” The raves are at home in a world that still treats fat not as a neutral description, but as a degradation. Even in its triumphal final scenes, its romantic messes having been tidied, Shallow Hal returns to its easy inertias. Hal tries to lift Rosemary up, and the camera zooms in on him as he strains, his face twisted with exaggerated effort. A few moments later, as the couple prepares to drive off into their happily-ever-after, they get into a car. Rosemary crushes her side of it. These are the true physics of a movie obsessed with weight. Shallow Hal does what so many people have done over the years, because American culture says they should: It looks at a fat person and sees nothing but a joke.

（由于看完后立刻决定搬运，所以没有附上翻译，如果可能会抽空更新翻译版本，现在就先记录留档下。）

这个电影居然感动到我，我想我们都很shallow，而且有时是skin deep shallow，尤其是男人，我想这是无法改变的，这是存在我们基因深处的。

有几个疑问提出
1.Rosemarry的这些性格和行为，是在她的美女前提下才显得如此可爱，她因为自卑的害羞，她食量超大，她坐塌餐厅的椅子，她跳入游泳池中溅起的水花把小男孩冲上树杈。正因为在Hal眼中她是个hottie是个身材高挑性感迷人的辣妹，所以以上几点都变成了可爱，试想一下如果她是以肥如母牛的nottie样子出现，Hal恐怕避之唯恐不及，哪里会勇敢的去和嘲笑她的两个男人理论，哪里会夸奖她能吃real meal是人生的一大乐趣。他恐怕只会觉得尴尬和被羞耻了吧。

2.Hal的邻居Jill，在Hal被“施咒”之后，在Hal眼里没有变化，那是不是说明Jill是个美貌加心灵美的集合？那在一个外表性感心灵也美的人面前，Hal为什么要这么极端的选择小肥妞呢。两全其美不是更好的选择吗。

3.为什么影片中的好人都是丑的呢。相由心生，心善的人都应该比恶人要长的顺眼吧。

很早以前我问过某人，我问他如果我长的丑你也还会喜欢我吗。他回答说，如果刚认识你的时候你长的丑我当然不会喜欢你，但是如果现在你变丑了，我仍然爱你。
我想这才是最诚实的答案。我遇见的你时候，你的外表至少要是我的菜，我可以因为你貌美而爱你，但是当我真正爱上你之后，我不介意你容颜的改变，我不介意你因为岁月的流逝而变得苍老甚至难看。

真正的爱情如何开始并不重要，重要的是如何结尾。只要是至死不渝的爱情都值得被歌颂。

电影一开头，在医院，是哈尔的老爸在临终前给哈尔的建议：
永远不要满足于中流水平
不要满足于普通货色的女人
给自己找个丰胸翘臀的美女
激情的青春时光就是一切

幼小的哈尔留下很深的记忆，于是当他长大后，他变成只在乎女人的外表，只喜欢年轻的女孩，尤其对她们的身材很挑剔。后来在那个电梯，那位医生帮了他一个忙，其实就是催眠他：无论你见到什么人，你只会看见他们的内心。你会以此来评价别人，因为内心，才是真正美丽的所在。后来，哈尔遇见了美丽的可人儿Rosemary，实际上Rosemary是个非常肥胖的女人，但是她的内心是如此的善良，所以在被洗脑的哈尔眼中，他觉得不应该在人间的仙女。于是他疯狂地喜欢上Rosemary,当哈尔的好朋友Mauricio把哈尔带回现实后，此时哈尔发觉自己再也不是外貌协会的，所以之前他追过的女孩反追回他，向他献殷勤，他很坚决地拒绝了她，继续他和Rosemary这段感情。

其实当哈尔意识到之前美女都是假的，我想他其实很矛盾的，因为他一开始喜欢Rosemary是因为她有天使般得面孔，魔鬼般得身材，相处久了发现她同时善良、聪明、幽默，所以当他知道这一切时，他不清楚到底那个更重要，他在慢慢的感受，最后是内在美战胜了外在美。选择了继续这段感情。

当然电影很简单，也很美好，无非是向观众阐述正确的爱情观，就是爱一个人，不应该只看外表，更应该注重内在美。但是从男生角度去分析，男生喜欢女生，往往是因为女生的外貌吸引，男生就是这么视觉化的动物，后来我发现，女生也一样。

此刻，我的头脑分成了两派，左脑代表内在美，右脑代表外在美。
右脑：电影中哈尔一开始不也是被Rosemary的美貌吸引，只不过这美貌被电影故弄玄虚，说是内在美的化身，就是骗你们这些小孩，而且电影能有那么高的票房，关键不也是请了美女来演，没有外在美，就根本不会去了解一个人，也就不会有内在美，所以外在美能不重要吗，能不重要吗？

左脑：假如有一位女孩很美，然后你们交往，发现她不讲理、脾气又大，另一个是女孩很丑，但是交往后，你发现她内心很善良，有共同话题，经常有说有笑，你更能接受哪一个。

右脑：That is bullshit，如果整天对着丑八怪，能有心情活下去吗,怎么可能有说有笑呢？

左脑：高老头的女儿跟猪八戒不就是好例子

右脑：猪八戒能三十六变，他平时变成帅哥。

左脑：不讲理，那好，黄月英和诸葛亮的例子，你没的反驳吧。

右脑：历史上有些书记载黄月英其实美女，只是为了考验诸葛亮才扮丑的。

左脑：你他妈还讲不讲理。

右脑：怎么不讲理了。
……
忽然间，明白《情人眼里出西施》其实根本就不是内在美与外在美哪个更重要的较量。只要某个他/她完全符合你的审美的标准，那他/她就是心目中的西施/白马王子。而且每个人经历不一样，审美标准肯定不一样，不能以某一套标准来限制人对事物的认识。

我们在这样现实的如此可怕的世界中成长起来,心中还有多少部分是纯洁易感的呢?
我们的心灵被我们人类自己不停地麻木着,我们每分每秒都在被不同人的价值观洗脑,他们告诉我们什么是美,什么是丑,而却不是我们自己证得的.上天给我们眼睛,鼻子,耳朵,嘴,以及触摸的感觉是为了让我们亲自体会美好的东西,而不是遵循被告知的,而生命真正的快乐,就是这证得的过程.
催眠师给了哈尔一个去尝试证实的机会.真正的隔阂真的只是外表而已么?这只是我们残忍用自己的价值观将人划分成三六九等的一种方式而已,其中还包括,金钱,地位等等,我们很小的时候不知道什么是脏,有时候会很开心的在地上滚来滚去,甚至笑的喘不过气.现在我们身穿名牌,看到有穿着污秽的人靠近就会不由自主的远离他们,我们奉承上司,对下属冷嘲热讽.但是我们真的快乐么?我们只会更加的空虚和麻木,对周围的人更加冷漠,这些隔阂阻碍了我们从内心上相互团结,相互理解,相互信任,哈尔是一个被去除这些隔阂的人,在去除肤浅外表,理解他人内心的过程中,自己从前麻木的内心也被融化,也变的快乐,纯洁.
有一种超越所有物质美的美:理解之美.