马男波杰克 第五季

五季了，波杰克的成长有目共睹，反而是他身边的人毫无成长。戴安的愤世嫉俗，花生酱的做事不经过大脑，卡洛琳公主还没明白她想要什么，陶德一整季过去了，又回到了原点。波杰克的成长其实在于“接受”和“表达”，跟第一季的他相比，这季的波杰克（就结果来说）更诚实，诚实地对待自己，诚实地对待他人。而且更重要的是，他学会了如何爱人。其实和波杰克相比，戴安的问题更突显出来——她很善良，她很擅长如何对他人好，却不知道怎么对自己好，也许是她没被教过，也许是她自愿沉溺于悲伤。在ep9她和马男吵架那里可以看出，是她想知道波杰克过去做过的龌龊事，知道了以后却又嫌弃他（因为说他很辣鸡），与其说她神经质不如说是因为她一直想站在一个道德的制高点，所以拒绝承认波杰克变好的事实，也不愿接受他垃圾的本质。波杰克一直把戴安当做交心的朋友因为他们很像，其实看到这季最后会觉得其实他们除了丧以外都不像。马男是向前进的那个，戴安不是。她太害怕做出改变了。唯一的好消息大概是花生酱没有跟戴安复合，因为他们真的不合适。

顺便提一嘴波杰克的药。有确切描写的话，应该是这季ep8（万圣节派对）开始，原因应该是戴安在剧里提出他在新墨西哥的往事，加上碧翠丝过世这件事他想找人倾诉却又不想（不敢）面对这个话题，当然可能还有点是因为他真的背痛。这样一想，戴安其实才是拖马男后腿的那个。也许下季波杰克会加油把戴安也拖出泥潭？

另外，不得不说，马男整部剧的想象力无可比拟的，尤其是如何把社会话题合理地塞进剧情这一点，怎么想都觉得不可能有更妙的做法。因为这种安排就是非常的马男。

很多人说第六集是神作，我觉得不然，11集才是。11集有点像上一季碧翠丝回忆的那集，将波杰克的精神世界和现实世界完美交织，让观众在能清楚分开哪些是波杰克在剧中的表现的同时，表达波杰克把现实和剧混合起来之后的感受。再说一嘴，波杰克和吉娜的分手其实很大程度上跟他自己没啥关系，因为可以说他当时已经处于一种精神不太正常（多半因为毒品）的情况，他是不能为自己的行为负责的，所以即使他学会了爱人，编剧仍然把他俩拆散了，所以这不是波杰克的锅，是编剧的锅。而《菲尔伯特》被停播更不是他的锅啦，只是他为了吉娜做出了牺牲却未得到回报（可能再次对他留下创伤），让人有点为他感到难过。

这季评分下降我很理解，因为本季更少关注波杰克自身的丧，转向社会的丧。像我这种想在马男这部剧里找共鸣、提醒自己有多丧的人在未经历社会的情况下社会问题有点提不起我的兴趣。再说了，波杰克已经不那么丧了。但无论如何，我都还是马男的死忠粉。

毕竟，不管怎样，马男是好起来了，社会还会好起来吗？

So I stopped at a Jack in the Box on the way here, and the girl behind the counter said, “Hiya! Are you having an awesome day?” Not, “How are you doing today?” No. “Are you having an awesome day?” Which is pretty… shitty, because it puts the onus on me to disagree with her, like if I’m not having an “awesome day,” suddenly I’m the negative one.

Usually when people ask how I’m doing, the real answer is I’m doing shitty, but I can’t say I’m doing shitty because I don’t even have a good reason to be doing shitty. So if I say, “I’m doing shitty,” then they say, “Why? What’s wrong?” And I have to be like, “I don’t know, all of it?” So instead, when people ask how I’m doing, I usually say, “I am doing so great.”

But when this girl at the Jack in the Box asked me if I was having an awesome day, I thought, “Well, today I’m actually allowed to feel shitty.” Today I have a good reason, so I said to her, “Well, my mom died,” and she immediately burst into tears. So now I have to comfort her, which is annoying, and meanwhile, there’s a line of people forming behind me who are all giving me these real judgy looks because I made the Jack in the Box girl cry. And she’s bawling, and she’s saying, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” and I’m like, “It’s fine. It’s fine.” I mean, it’s not fine but, you know, it’s… fine. And I would like to order a Double Jack Meal, and I’ve kinda got somewhere to be, so maybe less with the crying and more with the frying, huh? [inhales] And the girl apologizes again and she offers me a free churro with my meal. And as I’m leaving, I think, “I just got a free churro because my mom died.” No one ever tells you that when your mom dies, you get a free churro.

[people murmuring]

[clears throat]

Anyway, I’m sorry, that’s not part of the… [clears throat] All right. Okay, here we go. Let’s do this. Here I am, BoJack Horseman, doing a eulogy, let’s go. Hey, piano man, can I get a, like an organ flourish? [organ plays] Nicely done. You know, I was a little worried I wouldn’t have the right accompaniment today. I guess it’s a good thing my mom was an organ donor! [rimshot plays] What happened to the organ? [horn ‘oogahs’] Okay, why just leave the comedy to the professionals? Okay? This is a funeral, sir, for my mother. Can you show a little respect? [trumpet whines] I’ll take it.

Beatrice Horseman, who was she? What was her deal? Well, she was a horse. Uh, she was born in 1938. She died in 2018. One time, she went to a parade, and one time, she smoked an entire cigarette in one long inhale. I watched her do it. Truly a remarkable woman.

[rustling]

Lived a full life, that lady. Just, all the way to the end, which is, uh, now I guess. Really makes you think, though, huh? Life, right? Goes by, stuff happens. Then you die. Okay, well that’s my time, you’ve been great! Tip your waitress! No, I’m just kidding around, there’s no waitress. But seriously, that’s all I have to say about my mother. No point beating a dead horse, right? So…

[inhales] Now what? I don’t know. Mom, you got any ideas? Anything? Mom? No? Nothing to contribute? Knock once if you’re proud of me.

Can I just say how amazing it is to be in a room with my mother, and I can just talk and talk without her telling me to shut up and make her a drink? Hey, Mom, knock once if you think I should shut up. No? You sure? I mean, I don’t want to embarrass you by making this eulogy into a me-logy, so, seriously, if you wanted me to sit down and let someone else talk, just knock. I will not be offended. No? Your funeral.

Sorry about the closed casket, by the way. She wanted an open casket, but uh, you know, she’s dead now, so who cares what she wanted? No, that sounds bad. I’m sorry. I-I think that if she could’ve seen what she looked like dead, she’d agree it’s better this way. She looked like this.

[groaning]

[mourners gasping]

Kinda like a pissed-off toy dinosaur. The coroner couldn’t get her eyes closed, so now her face is forever frozen in a mask of tremendous horror and anguish. Or as my mom called it, Tuesday! Tuesday! My mom called it Tuesday.

[woman coughs]

Hey, Mom, what did you think of that joke? You like that? You never did care for my comedy.

[clears throat]

Here’s a story. When I was a teenager, I performed a comedy routine for my high school talent show. There was this, uh, cool jacket that I wanted to wear because I thought it would make me look like Albert Brooks. For months, I saved up for this jacket. But when I finally had enough, I went to the store and it was gone. They had just sold it to someone else. So, I went home and I told my mother, and she said, “Let that be a lesson. That’s the good that comes from wanting things.” She was really good at dispensing life lessons that always seemed to circle back to everything being my fault.

But then, on the day of the talent show, my mother had a surprise for me. She had bought me the jacket. Even though she didn’t know how to say it, I know this meant that she loved me.

Now that’s a good story about my mother. It’s not true, but it’s a good story, right? I stole it from an episode of Maude I saw when I was a kid, where she talks about her father. I remember when I saw it, thinking, “That’s the kind of story I want to tell about my parents when they die.” But I don’t have any stories like that. All I know about being good, I learned from TV. And in TV, flawed characters are constantly showing people they care with these surprising grand gestures. And I think that part of me still believes that’s what love is. But in real life, the big gesture isn’t enough. You need to be consistent, you need to be dependably good. You can’t just screw everything up and then take a boat out into the ocean to save your best friend, or solve a mystery, and fly to Kansas. You need to do it every day, which is so… hard.

When you’re a kid, you convince yourself that maybe the grand gesture could be enough, that even though your parents aren’t what you need them to be over and over and over again, at any moment, they might surprise you with something… wonderful. I kept waiting for that, the proof that even though my mother was a hard woman, deep down, she loved me and cared about me and wanted me to know that I made her life a little bit brighter. Even now, I find myself waiting.

Hey, Mom, knock once if you love me and care about me and want me to know I made your life a little bit brighter.

[owl chirping]

My mother did not go gentle into that good night. She went clawing and fighting and thrashing, hence the face.

[groaning]

[mourners gasping]

If you’d seen her, I swear to God the only thing you’d be thinking about right now is that I am nailing this impression.

[woman clears her throat]

[chairs squeak]

I was in the hospital with her those last moments, and they were truly horrifying, full of nonsencial screams and cries, but there was this moment, this one instant of strange calm, where she looked in my direction and said, “I see you.” That’s the last thing she said to me. “I see you.” Not a statement of judgment or disappointment, just acceptance and the simple recognition of another person in a room. “Hello there. You are a person. And I see you.”

Let me tell you, it’s a weird thing to feel at 54 years old, that for the first time in your life your mother sees you. It’s an odd realization that that’s the thing you’ve been missing, the only thing you wanted all along, to be seen. And it doesn’t feel like a relief, to finally be seen. It feels mean, like, “Oh, it turns out that you knew what I wanted, and you waited until the very last moment to give it to me.” I was prepared for more cruelty. I was sure that she would get in one final zinger about how I let her down, and about how I was fat and stupid and too tall to be an effective Lindy-hopper. How I was needy and a burden and an embarrassment—all that I was ready for. I was not ready for “I see you.” Only my mother would be lousy enough to swipe me with a moment of connection on her way out. But maybe I’m giving her too much credit. Maybe it wasn’t about connection. Maybe it was a… maybe it was an “I see you,” like, uh, “I see you.” Like, “You might have the rest of the world fooled, but I know exactly who you are.” That’s more my mom’s speed.

Or maybe she just literally meant “I see you. You are an object that has entered my field of vision.” She was pretty out of it at the end, so maybe it’s dumb to try to attribute it to anything.

[woman sighs]

Back in the 90s, I was in a very famous TV show called Horsin’ Around.

[man coughs]

Please hold your applause. And I remember one time, a fan asked me, “Hey, um, you know that episode where the horse has to give Ethan a pep talk after Ethan finds out his crush only asked him to the dance because her friends were having a dorkiest date contest? In all the shots of the horse, you can see a paper coffee cup on the kitchen counter, but in the shots of Ethan, the coffee cup’s missing. Was that because the show was making a statement about the fluctuant subjectivity of memory and how even two people can experience the same moment in entirely different ways?” And I didn’t have the heart to be, like, “No, man, some crew guy just left their coffee cup in the shot.” So instead, I was, like… “Yeah.”

And maybe this is like that coffee cup. Maybe we’re dumb to try to pin significance onto every little thing. Maybe when someone says, “I see you,” it just means, “I see you.” Then again, it’s possible she wasn’t even talking to me because, if I’m being honest, she wasn’t really looking at me. She was looking just past me. There was nobody else in the room, so I want to think she was talking to me, but, honestly, she was so far gone at that point, who knows what she was seeing? Who were you talking to, Mom? [sighs] Not saying, huh? Staying mum? No rimshot there? God, whatever I’m paying you, it’s too much.

Maybe she saw my dad. My dad died about ten years ago of injuries he sustained during a duel. When your father dies, you ask yourself a lot of questions. Questions like, “Wait, did you say he died in a duel?” and “Who dies in a duel?” The whole thing was so stupid. Dad spent his entire life writing this book, but he couldn’t get any stores to carry it or any newspapers to review it. Finally, I guess this one newspaper thought he was pretty hilarious, because they ran a review and tore him to shreds. So my father, ever the proud Mary, decided he would not stand for this besmirchment of his honor. He claimed the critic didn’t understand what it meant to be a man, so he demanded satisfaction in the form of pistols at dawn. He wrote the paper this letter, saying anyone who didn’t like his book, he would challenge to a duel, anyone in the world. He’d even pay for airfare to San Francisco and a night in a hotel. Well, eventually this found its way to some kook in Montana, who was as batshit as he was and took him up on the offer. They met at Golden Gate Park and agreed: ten paces, then shoot. But in the middle of the ten paces, Dad turned to ask the guy if he’d actually read the book and what he thought, but, not looking where he was going, tripped over an exposed root and bashed his head on a rock.

[murmur]

I wish I’d known to go to Jack in the Box then. Maybe I could have gotten a free churro. It would’ve been nice to have something to show for being the son of Butterscotch Horseman. My darling mother gave the eulogy. My entire life I never heard her say a kind word to or about my father, but at his funeral she said, “My husband is dead, and everything is worse now.”

“My husband is dead, and everything is worse now.” I don’t know why she said that. Maybe she felt like that’s the kind of thing you’re supposed to say at a funeral. Maybe she hoped one day someone would say that about her. “My mother is dead, and everything is worse now.” Or maybe she knew that he had frittered away all her inheritance, and replaced it with crippling debt, which is a pretty shitty thing to leave your widow with. “Bad news, you lost a husband, but don’t worry, you also lost the house!” Maybe Mom knew she’d have to sell all her fancy jewelry and move into a home. Maybe that’s what she meant by “everything is worse now.” Is that what you meant, Mom?

I gotta say, I’m really carrying this double act. At least with Penn and Teller, the quiet one does card tricks. Hey, piano man, when I say something funny to my mom, how about you give me one of those rimshots?

[rimshot plays]

Yeah, but not now. When I say something funny. Like, okay. What’s the difference between my mother and a disruptive expulsion of germs? One’s a coughin’ fit and the other fits a coffin! That’s an example of a funny thing.

[rimshot plays]

Thank you. Let’s try again. Hey, Mom. What’s the difference between my mother and a bunch of Easter eggs? One gets carried in a basket, the other gets buried in a casket!

[rimshot plays]

Ready for one more? Last one. What’s the difference between a first-year lit major and my mother, Beatrice Horseman? One is decently read, and the other’s a huge bitch!

[woman gasps]

[murmurs]

Yeah, might have gone a little too far with that one. That one might’ve been a little too “my mom’s a huge bitch” for the room. I’m sorry, Mother. You’re not a huge bitch. You were a huge bitch… and now you’re dead.

[woman sighs]

You know, the first time I ever performed in front of an audience, it actually was, uh, with my mom. She used to put on these shows with her supper club in the living room and she used to make… [inhales] She used to make me sing “The Lollipop Song.”

[organ playing tune]

Those parties, they were really something. There were skits and magic acts, and ethnically insensitive vaudeville routines, and the big finale was always a dance my mother did. She had this beautiful dress that she only brought out for these parties, and she did this incredible number. It was so beautiful and sad. Dad hated the parties. He’d lock himself in the study, and bang on the walls for us to keep it down, but he always came out to see Mom dance. He’d linger in the doorway, scotch in hand, and watch in awe, as this cynical, despicable woman he married… took flight. And as a child who was completely terrified of both my parents, I was always aware that this moment of grace, it meant something. We understood each other in a way. Me and my mom and my dad, as screwed up as we all were, we did understand each other. My mother, she knew what it’s like to feel your entire life like you’re drowning, with the exception of these moments, these very rare, brief instances, in which you suddenly remember… you can swim.

[flashback]

[partygoers laughing]

[classical music playing]

But then again, mostly not. Mostly you’re drowning. She understood that, too. And she recognized that I understood it. And Dad. All three of us were drowning, and we didn’t know how to save each other, but there was an understanding that we were all drowning together. And I would like to think that that’s what she meant when we were in the hospital and she said, “I see you.”

You know, the weird thing about both your parents being dead is it means that you’re next. I mean, you know, obviously it’s not like there’s a waitlist for dying. Any one of us could get run over by a Snapchatting teen at any moment. And you would think that knowing that would make us more adventurous, and kind, and forgiving. But it makes us small, and stupid, and petty.

I actually had a near-death experience recently. A stunt went bad and I fell off a building. I’m an actor, I do my own stunts. I’m on this new show Philbert. I’m Philbert. Star of the show. It hasn’t come out yet, but it’s already getting Emmy buzz. Oh, speaking of buzz… [inhales] I’m supposed to take two of these every morning, but my days are so screwed up ‘cause of the shooting schedule, I don’t even know what morning means anymore. There’s a joke in there somewhere, about a guy who’s been to so many funerals, he doesn’t even know what mourning means anymore. Let you guys figure that one out for yourselves. [gulps]

Anyway, you know what I thought, when I was falling off the building and I went into panic mode? The last thing that my stupid brain could come up with before I died? “Won’t they be sorry.” Cool thought, brain.

[rimshot plays]

No, that wasn’t… would you just… dial it back, all right?

I don’t even know what “they” I wanted to be sorry. My mom, even before she died, could barely remember who I was. And of course, my dad’s dead. The last conversation I ever had with him was about his novel. He was so certain this book was his legacy. Maybe he thought it would vindicate him for all the shitty things he ever did in his stupid worthless life. Maybe it did, I don’t know. I never read it, because why would I give him that?

I used to be on this TV show called Horsin’ Around. Seriously, though, hold your applause.

[man coughs]

Well held. It was written by my friend Herb Kazzaz, who’s also dead now, and it starred this little girl named Sarah Lynn. And it was about these orphans. And early on, the network had a note, “Maybe don’t mention they’re orphans so much, because audiences tend to find orphans sad and not relatable.” But I never thought that the orphans were sad. I-I always thought they were lucky, because they could imagine their parents to be anything they wanted. They had something to long for.

Anyway, we did this one season finale, where Olivia’s birth mother comes to town. And she was a junkie, but she’s gotten herself cleaned up, and she wants to be in Olivia’s life again. And of course, she’s like a perfect grown-up version of Olivia, and they go to the mall together and get her ears pierced like she’s always wanted and—sorry, spoiler alert for the season six finale of Horsin’ Around, if you’re still working your way through it. Anyway, the horse tries to warn her, “Be careful, moms have a way of letting you down.” But Olivia just thinks the horse is jealous, and when the mom says she’s moving to California, Olivia decides to go with her. And the network really juiced the cliffhanger: “Is Olivia gone for good?” But of course, because it’s a TV show, she was not gone for good. Of course, because it’s a TV show, Olivia’s mother had a relapse and had to go back to rehab, so Olivia had to hitchhike all the way home, getting rides from Mr. T, Alf, and the cast of Stomp. Of course, that’s what happened. Because, what are you gonna do, just not have Olivia on the show? You can’t have happy endings in sitcoms, not really, because, if everyone’s happy, the show would be over, and above all else, the show… has to keep going. There’s always more show. And you can call Horsin’ Around dumb, or bad, or unrealistic, but there is nothing more realistic than that. You never get a happy ending, ‘cause there’s always more show.

I guess until there isn’t.

[chuckles]

My mom would hate it if she knew that I spent so much time at her funeral talking about my old TV show. Or maybe she’d think it was funny that her idiot son couldn’t even do this right. Who knows? She left no instructions for what she wanted me to say. All I know is she wanted an open casket, and her idiot son couldn’t even do that right. I’m not gonna stand up here and pretend I ever understood how to please that woman, even though so much of my life has been wasted in vain attempts to figure it out. But I keep going back to that moment in the ICU when she looked at me, and… “I-C-U.”

“I… see… you.” Jesus Christ, we were in the intensive care unit. She was just reading a sign. My mom died and all I got was this free churro.

You know the shittiest thing about all of this? Is when that stranger behind the counter gave me that free churro, that small act of kindness showed more compassion than my mother gave me her entire goddamn life. Like, how hard is it to do something nice for a person? This woman at the Jack in the Box didn’t even know me. I’m your son! All I had was you! [inhales]

I have this friend. And right around when I first met her, her dad died, and I actually went with her to the funeral. And months later, she told me that she didn’t understand why she was still upset, because she never even liked her father. It made sense to me, because I went through the same thing when my dad died. And I’m going through the same thing now. You know what it’s like? It’s like that show Becker, you know, with Ted Danson? I watched the entire run of that show, hoping that it would get better, and it never did. It had all the right pieces, but it just—it couldn’t put them together. And when it got canceled, I was really bummed out, not because I liked the show, but because I knew it could be so much better, and now it never would be. And that’s what losing a parent is like. It’s like Becker.

Suddenly, you realize you’ll never have the good relationship you wanted, and as long as they were alive, even though you’d never admit it, part of you, the stupidest goddamn part of you, was still holding on to that chance. And you didn’t even realize it until that chance went away.

My mother is dead, and everything is worse now, because now I know I will never have a mother who looks at me from across a room and says, “BoJack Horseman, I see you.” But I guess it’s good to know. It’s good to know that there is nobody looking out for me, that there never was, and there never will be. No, it’s good to know that I am the only one that I can depend on. And I know that now and it’s good. It’s good that I know that. So… it’s good my mother is dead.

[gulps, sighs]

Well. No point beating a dead horse. Beatrice Horseman was born in 1938, and she died in 2018, and I have no idea… what she wanted. Unless she just wanted what we all want… to be seen.

Is this Funeral Parlor B?

—— from Reddit

首先感谢友邻提供的资源。

I would like to talk about the E05. Because Princess is the one that I admire the most，i love his strong，confident and independence……

【1】

公主却从来没当过公主，因为王子总是擦肩而过，但她却是自己的女王。虽然第四季公主又被编剧狠狠虐了一把，总以为她该找到属于自己的幸福了吧，像很多优秀的“大龄剩女”那样，可是猫和老鼠怎么可能真正相依相偎一辈子呢？她又流产了比老鼠更伤心的她却像没事人一样自己主动选择离开了老鼠。

当看到要强的卡洛琳公主坐在车里哭泣时我和很多剧迷们一样心也跟着碎了一地～～～为什么生活总是不能善待她呢？也许这才是拍的真实操蛋的生活呀，哪有那么多happy ending 呀！

我们这一年都企盼着公主在第五季能有好剧情走向，很多人想的还是看到她能遇到真正的懂得疼爱她的Mr·right，她不用再那么坚强的像一块顽石。可看了几集我看到的公主依旧还是那个干练独立被打磨的近乎铁娘子般，仿佛被工作的繁忙占据了一切，没有那么多时间伤春悲秋的她。

她全能的样子，对工作游刃有余的样子，被太多巨婴需要的样子……依旧让人佩服又让人心疼。

【2】

可又不太一样了，经历既改变。她外表虽顽强的屹立不倒，但一个女人到了一定年纪内心深处的温柔会堆积的泛滥成灾。她对于爱人和生孩子不是没努力过，这一切对于她来说困难重重，所以她才毫不犹豫的选择掏重金给领养中介机构帮忙寻找可以领养的小孩，母性使然。即使中介机构的工作人员态度恶劣的像坨屎，可母性的渴望还是让人变得温柔。

我们也看到了公主的过去，她变成了今天这样的追根溯源，原生家庭和过去实在太影响你变成什么样的人，这部剧里大概每个人都能很好的诠释，就像我们自己也是一样。

她年轻时也曾愿意为了一份爱情放弃自己的梦想，如果不是意外流产她也差点肤浅的想像妈妈灌输的靠嫁入狐狸家豪门改变命运。可如果真的那样的话她会从此失去卡洛琳公主她自己，在见狐狸爸爸时这位名门望族爸爸那番以后她嫁过去了要过怎样生活的话就彻底扼杀了她的人生和选择，她再也没有机会变成真正的自己，人生不可能自我掌控。

她能从此自主选择自己的道路，不是因为别的，正是看清了爱情和爱人的脆弱。也是豪门梦碎妈妈拿出那封大学录取通知书，这让她重拾梦想狠狠诀别了有时也很自私的母亲，她知道了从此该如何努力主动的去改变自己的落魄命运，她知道只能靠自己变得强大才可以自主命运，而身边谁也帮不了她。故事当然没有详细说她吃过多少苦头，又是如何靠没有家庭的支持没有学费却完成学业并在洛杉矶扎根成为一个女经纪人的，不过可想而知吧。

所以公主也不是一直以来就是个敢于自我选择的人，每个人人格样子的形成都是一步一步走出来的模样。现在的公主除了工作全能外，除了做一个被波杰克被陶德被戴安被花生酱先生等等需要的朋友和全能女强人外，她也还想做一个可以靠自己目前的经济条件抚养一个属于她的不再会走她走过的路的小孩，没有爱情但能成为一个很好很温柔的母亲的人。

公主是坚强的总为别人解决问题的，她不是弱女子却同时也是最让人心疼的。希望以后的她即便没有爱人能有小孩的陪伴能少一点孤单吧，无论她选择什么生活只要是自己自主选择的就一定是最正确会变得更好更有意义的生活。

我们自己也是这样，共勉吧。

第五季第二集

突然就想到Diane &Bojack的关系。

两个人是很好的朋友，但两个人是哪种朋友呢？

是那种我懂你，你也懂我的朋友。

是那种我在你面前全然表达真实感受不用伪装的朋友。

是可以展现脆弱的朋友。

因为真实就是破碎。

而这种懂得，是对生活无奈的懂得，是对丧的懂得。

是知道人间不值得，但还在挣扎的时候，相视一笑的“IGetIt”。

是外在体面，但一起喝酒就酩酊大醉，但醒来后还是尴尬的离场。

不然怎么办呢。

人间真实吗？

两个很丧的人，两个都很明白的人，但却活不明白，只能在各自的生活中奋力挣扎，期待出现一颗救命稻草，但终了或无所得。

他们好像是愿意“众人皆醉我独醒”的人，因为清醒，所以反而又用喝醉来伪装。

经常看到弹幕有人在刷，希望两个人在一起。

我说，两个人不能在一起，那么像的两个人，如果在一起，岂不是都要落到黑洞里，那里有深渊，并且即使低到尘埃也无法开出花来。

给凯瑟琳公主一个温暖的约会对象

我个人的马男第五季。为什么要一直约会食草动物，吃肉多香！

第六季回来补充：

所有的事最后都会好的，如果没有变好，那么还没到最后。

因为这是你心之所往，只要有方向，就能无往不至。

老虎有老虎的好，老虎是你想成为的楷模，人生中少不了楷模的激励。但最后你并不是为了成为老虎，你也无法成为老虎，你只能成为你自己，并感谢老虎曾经教会了你一点儿什么，这才有了今天的你。

现在看来这个小画儿对我的个人生活也寓意极深。我也没有约会猫科动物，而是嫁给了小白兔。

可我就爱吃臭豆腐。

某姜每天的日常是这样：

写不出稿，啃会儿指甲吧。

写不出稿，看会儿资料吧。

写不出稿，这资料一点用都没有。

写不出稿，吐槽一下主编吧。

写不出稿，看看别人家公号都干了啥。

然后发现别人家公众号发了这样一篇文章：

这标题句式，吓得我绝经。

别说三十岁了，简直职业更年期。别说职业瓶颈了，简直职业宫颈癌。

这种时刻，向左看看，没有主编，向右看看，没有领导。

还是看一集《马男波杰克》自我疗愈吧。

这剧中的每个人，都写不出稿活得不好。

看到他们也过得不好，我就安心了。

理直气壮原谅自己写不出稿。

没想到，戴安一句话劈头盖脸：

我最后的退路也被堵死了。

《马男波杰克》诠释了那一句“生命就是时时刻刻不知如何是好”。

这分钟觉得自己烂得像坨飞散的翔，下一刻又觉得世界就是个巨型厕所，自己也不是最臭不可闻那一坨，刚准备原谅自己，又发现自己罪无可赦。

新一季依然如此。

每个人的生活依然一团糟，拿借口原谅自己的不完美，拿伪装掩饰自己的混乱无助。

这样一个故事，可不能让《环球时报》总编辑胡锡进看到了，不然又成了“臭豆腐”。

“臭豆腐”前因了解一下

《马男》还偏偏是“好莱坞”的臭豆腐

①

新一季，不丧了，也更丧了

胡总编辑百思不得其解的是，负能量怎么会有人爱看？堵得慌。

可负能量是《马男波杰克》的卤水。不用卤水点，不成臭豆腐。

而臭豆腐的卤水里，有冬笋、香菇、曲酒、豆豉……

都是好东西，只是泡的年月长了，就臭了。

像人，经历的事儿多了，就丧了。

随便品品爆表的负能量：

第一季“没用的老马”

第二季“人间不值得”

第三季“我有病你有药”

第四季“满脸写着高兴”

总是为人生找到借口，亲手打碎它，又拼好。

借口终于能暂时遮掩人生，但始终有道丑陋的疤。

这一季里，依然如此。

戴安去越南散心，像文艺女青年一样列出去越南的十个理由。

都爱说“说走就走的旅行”、“诗与远方”，其实大多数人是“不想工作”“我失恋了”。

其实不过“我离开你，就是旅行的意义”

文青般的十个理由全是借口，真相是你孤独了

波杰克被母亲虐了一辈子。

童年阴影

他曾经说，我俩之中死一个就好了。

这一季，母亲真的死了。他却发现，伤害没有随着生命而终止，反而变成了一个死结，永远无法达成和解。

第六集，他在葬礼上脱口秀了一整集，试图弄清母亲临终“我看见你了(I see you)”的含义，希望真的被母亲“看见”、重视。

却原来只是ICU(重症监护室)

凯洛琳公主，想起来洛杉矶之前的岁月。

本来应该是奉子成婚，嫁入好人家，考个公务员，在小城市里操心房价尿布奶粉。

命运却让她流产，注定她要来大都市。

但这么多年了，却回到了想要孩子的原点。

原来只是换了身衣服原地打转，还是在机场

时间把杀马特变成了啤酒肚，好像人只会衰退

很多人说这一季没那么丧了。

他们开始改变，开始成长。

我却觉得成长最丧。

小时候你觉得是因为你太小，所以无法解决家庭、学习工作、婚姻爱情等种种难题。

原来越长大越是死局。

成长是终于妥协，终于告别。

②

那些人，长大了，也变小了

为什么要看丧剧，看负能量呢？

连马男自己都吐槽：

看些无脑爽剧多好啊

我也只想看看人们谈谈恋爱

再看看人们谈谈恋爱

以及看看人们谈谈恋爱啊？？？

可是为什么还是要看《马男波杰克》，要看[江湖儿女]呢？

因为反而很多美满的故事，才是鸦片啊。

傻白甜的故事，吸完白光闪过，然后是一片空虚的贤者时间。

我和这些幸福的人儿，一定没生活在同一个宇宙。

不然为什么只有我活得这么难？

恰恰是《马男波杰克》这样的丧剧，挥舞着大棒，把我打晕，又用水把我浇醒。

让我突然醒悟：原来大家一样惨啊。

你加班，别人就不加班吗？

你写不出稿，别人就写得出稿吗？

我敢说，在社交网络上搞个“写手米兔运动”，一定应者众：

“我因写稿而头秃。”“我也是。”

在《马男波杰克》这一季季终，波杰克要戴安再写书，写他有多混蛋，以“认罪”，让自己的痛苦获得解脱。

戴安却说：

我们只是普通人，不是罪人

丧到头了，就会发现，人都一样，不分国界，不分种族，都不好不坏，一肚子苦水。

这样的负能量看多了，不是令人焦躁，反而学会慈悲。

把自己放低一点，缩小一点，不再把自己的痛苦看成天大的痛苦，而是全人类相似痛苦的其中一个碎片。

先知道“人生为何如此的艰难”，“有些事”才“不拆穿”。

谅解了别人，也才能宽恕自己。

波杰克问：

万一我清醒了还是混蛋怎么办？

傻瓜，当然还是混蛋。

成长是终于不再要答案了，终于接受人生无解。

即使改变了，成长了，痛感也不会减少半分，你只是学会了忍受。

心还是躁动不安，屁股还是如坐针毡，人也还是难以自处。

你只是学会了利用这种痛感，去成长，去和别人、和自己和平共处。

③

臭豆腐，更臭了，也不臭了

没捏着鼻子吃过臭豆腐的人，不足以谈人生。

小时候我是最讨厌臭豆腐的。

放学路上小巷口，油锅滋啦直响，就像帮臭豆腐的气味分子放炮仗助威，挑衅鼻孔。

这个时候，会有个扎双麻花的小妹妹捏着鼻子，跑远远再回头，冲着臭豆腐唱起来：

“臭豆腐臭，臭豆腐臭，臭豆腐臭豆腐臭臭臭。”

多年后，双麻花小妹妹长成了披头散发的老姐姐。

在加班写稿的深夜里，小摊上油锅的滋啦声怎么那么好听呢？臭豆腐升腾起来的热气里，怎么臭里带着温柔呢？

她塞了满嘴臭豆腐，落下两行热泪：

“真香。”

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文：姜不停

文章源自微信公众号：电影解毒