Sylvester, by the hugely underrated Lupu Pick is one of the least known films of the silent era, and unjustly so. Pick, the director of the slightly less obscure Scherben (Shattered), is almost as forgotten as this, his masterpiece... a film that without doubt, in it's time, was one of the most important of the German silent era. 　　This great Kammerspiel is the middle entry in a trilogy written by the master screenwriter Carl Mayer (see here for a web resource for Mayer, as well as a writeup on Sylvester), all three of which were intended to fall under the directorial auspices of Pick: the first was Scherben (Shattered), the second was Sylvester (New Years Eve), and the last was Der Letzte Mann (The Last Laugh), which, as the film went into production, shifted directorial hands-- and was ultimately helmed by another of Mayer's ongoing collaborators, the great F. W. Murnau. 　　Much has been made about the supposed innovations of Der Letzte Mann/Last Laugh: that it was the first film to be produced without intertitles, and that it was the film to "unchain the camera" via the integration of subjective camera movements. Some attribute these innovations to Murnau completely, others give credit to Karl Freund for innovating the moving camera. Others suggest that it was within the script for Letzte Mann that instructions for the moving camera can be located, and that this innovation, in this film, rests wth Mayer. 　　As for the intertitle issue, the myth is easy to debunk: in Germany at least, one can, through exploration of chronologically preceding titles written by Mayer, see that this screenwriter had been seeking out this kind narrative-pictorial purity for years already by the time Letzte went into production. Hintertreppe (Backstairs, 1921, directed by Leopold Jessner, assisted by Paul Leni), Scherben (Shattered, 1921), Die Strasse (The Street, 1923, directed by Karl Grune), Sylvester (New Years Eve, 1924, Pick) all ran, in initial, domestic German release, with one-to-no intertitles. That makes Der Letzte Mann the fifth film that Mayer scripted for execution without intertitles. 　　Putting aside the issue of the preceding use of moving camera by Yevgeni Bauer, Raul Walsh, Giovanni Pastrone, D.W. Griffith, etc-- the issue of who in Germany who first conceived and extensively utilized the subjective moving camera is put to rest with a simple viewing of Sylvester. 　　Like all Carl Mayer tales-- and like Scherben before it-- Sylvester is an exceedingly simple story... it is New Years Eve, and all levels of the social strata are celebrating. Like a restless deity exploring the substance of his human creations, in all the colliding facets of their existence, the camera comes in out of the rolling waves of the void of nighttime... announcing with a single opening intertitle the inscription from the Tower of Babel: "Go go let us go down and there confound their language, that they may not understand one another's speech." 　　With this we move in off of the ocean, and into a city-- it is New Year's Eve and the street is a sea of revelers. Here Pick and Mayer's camera lingers for a couple of minutes before picking up the thread that constitutes the "story", to which the rest of the film is oblivious: 　　A small family unit which runs a low-down bar on the main thoroughfare in town constitutes the central zone of the film. A husband and wife are keeping the food and drinks coming to the drunken, lower-working class revelers tossing confetti and streamers for the holiday. A baby sleeps in a carriage. Suddenly an ominous dark silhouette appears on the frosty outer side of the rear kitchen's window, and is sighted by the wife, who instantly deflates-- all her joy and enthusiasm for the coming countdown to midnight are instantly sapped. 　　The intimate Kammerspiel which follows, triggered by the arrival of the wife's mother-in-law, is constantly orbited by the world outside. (As is typical for a Mayer film, the characters are nameless: The husband, The wife, His Mother) The camera continuously places the emotional strife of the trio of the man and his wife, and her terrible feuding with her schizoid mother-in-law, into context of the larger human universe. Intercut with their scenes of impending tragedy and near operatic gloom are shots of the oblivious streets: grand hotels with elegant appointments and well-heeled revelers in tux flowing out of limousines (welcoed through a revolving door operated by Emil Janning's spiritual predecessor), organ grinders and panhandlers with beaten faces crushedby prison time, bawdy bourgoise, flappers, rowdy laborers, streamers and confetti everywhere. Whereas most films place their characters in the center of the human universe, absorbing all the significance and spiritual gravity made available via the story, Sylvester, despite the pathos of the impending tragedy in the tiny family unit's unfolding drama, de-emphasizes the importance of the family... the narrative strains at times to disassociate itself with them, lingering for solid stretches of minutes, tracking up and down the streets, picking out stranger after stranger, settling on no one and everyone. 　　It's via this dis/association that the power of the film multiplies, gathering the force and impact of the cruel reality of existence: a world paying lip service to the rest of itself, even in it's most awful of crises. The world spins; life goes on. I mentioned in my previous essay (linked above) for Sylvester: 　　I still believe that to be true. What Mayer was attempting to do here is very difficult to articulate in words... thus the opening statement from Babel. This is a film beyond language, beyond a general statement. That barrier that confounds its explanation is the same existential barrier that exists between the family unit and the world outside, which is the barrier that exists between every human heart’s lived life, and the rest of the surrounding world. To paraphrase Tom Regan in Miller’s Crossing: “Nobody really knows anybody—not that well.”

除夕夜，小区业主群突然弹出条消息：“免费送馄饨上门。” 发信人竟是前一天刚去世的张伯，群里瞬间炸开锅，有人以为是恶作剧，有人吓得心头发毛。 陆续有业主收到冒名张伯送来的馄饨，可打开时总闻到莫名寒意。更诡异的是，收过馄饨的人家，夜里总听见门外有轻响。 直到物业调取监控，才揭开真相 —— 是张伯儿子借父亲名义搞鬼，想借除夕氛围宣泄对邻里的旧怨，却意外引发了一连串恐慌。

故事充满了史诗般的叙事和深刻的历史奇幻元素，讲述了宁缺（陈飞宇 饰）和小侍女桑桑（宋伊人 饰）在大唐时期的冒险与挑战。宁缺作为大唐边军的一员，带着桑桑来到帝都，目的是调查十三年前的一场灭门奇案。在这个过程中，他们不仅要面对权倾天下的西陵神殿、神秘消逝的荒原魔宗，还要应对燕唐边境的暗流涌动以及烂柯寺的血雨腥风。而世间也正处于动荡之中，各种力量和人物相互交织，影响着局势的发展。 　　宁缺和桑桑成为了这一历史洪流中的关键人物，他们的冒险不仅是为了揭开历史背后的真相，还涉及到传说中的永夜即将来临的秘密。在这一过程中，他们结识了各色人物：夫子、书院兄弟、各种“痴”、隆庆皇子、知守观主、皇帝、将军、公主，以及各路修行强者和普通的军人和少年，每个人都在这段不平凡的旅程中扮演着重要的角色。

《夜将》的中文标题一语双关，暗含“黑夜将至”与“夜色中的勇士(武士)存在或消失”的双重隐喻。影片采用上世纪的传统造景手法，在叙事缺失的情境中展现非历史非寓言的幻想：战争负伤的将军孤身一人在黑暗中，与自身的人生之路起着冲突，三个幽灵般的人物是其内心感情和想法的象征，他不得不在消失还是继续战斗之间做出决定。

宁缺穿越到一个似是而非的大唐世界，却发现此处为处处惊险的修行世界，原本以为自己可以从此吃香喝辣，一跃成为人上人时，他却发现自己既没有任何修行天赋，而且从四岁开始就家破人亡亲眼目睹灭门惨案，更被千里追杀。在逃亡路上他在尸山血海中捡到了一把黑伞，又见到了身为婴儿的桑桑，绝望的他找到了活下去的动力，不甘心向命运低头的他带着这把大黑伞和桑桑开始了惊心动魄的逆袭之路。

传说永夜将至，人间浩劫。书院的十三先生、大唐帝国的守护者宁缺为桑桑治病赶赴盂兰节。世人都怀疑宁缺就是冥王之子，他将会给世间带来永夜，却发现原来他身边的桑桑才是应兆之人。宁缺桑桑四面皆敌，两人相依为命，浪迹天涯。与此同时，世间危局愈演愈烈，阴谋蠢动，举世伐唐一触即发。五国征战，万里平川；四大宗派，纷争再起；荒原之上，夫子化月守护人间；长安城中，万人空巷同仇敌忾。书院的人们为了守护家园和家人誓死而战，唐国重获和平与安宁，宁缺则踏上了寻回爱人桑桑之路。瑰丽恢弘的世界史诗，爱恨情仇的人性婆娑。

这个世界有个传言：永夜降至，人间浩劫。只有找到传说中的应兆之人，才能化解危机。边城小军卒宁缺凭借坚韧意志，一路过关斩将走上了修行之路，成为了唐国的守护者。然而在野心家的撺掇下，世人发现与宁缺青梅竹马的桑桑就是传说中的应兆之人，欲置她于死地。宁缺不愿看到善良的桑桑受到伤害，陪伴着她突破重重阻碍，两人浪迹天涯，相依为命。此时野心家意图一举毁灭唐国，集结各国联军讨伐，陷唐国及无辜百姓于危难间。宁缺临危受命，不顾个人安危，带领唐国军民奋起反抗，成为国家的守护者。宁缺和伙伴们集千万人的力量和誓死守卫家园的决心，战胜了强大的敌人，还世间和平与安宁。宁缺寻到自己的爱人桑桑，只是此时的桑桑已经成为了冷漠的天女，宁缺用自己的真心和实际行动感化了天女，唤回了天女身上人性的光辉，也找回了他的桑桑。

这个世界有个传言：永夜降至，人间浩劫。只有找到传说中的应兆之人，才能化解危机。边城小军卒宁缺凭借坚韧意志，一路过关斩将走上了修行之路，成为了唐国的守护者。然而在野心家的撺掇下，世人发现与宁缺青梅竹马的桑桑就是传说中的应兆之人，欲置她于死地。宁缺不愿看到善良的桑桑受到伤害，陪伴着她突破重重阻碍，两人浪迹天涯，相依为命。此时野心家意图一举毁灭唐国，集结各国联军讨伐，陷唐国及无辜百姓于危难间。宁缺临危受命，不顾个人安危，带领唐国军民奋起反抗，成为国家的守护者。宁缺和伙伴们集千万人的力量和誓死守卫家园的决心，战胜了强大的敌人，还世间和平与安宁。宁缺寻到自己的爱人桑桑，只是此时的桑桑已经成为了冷漠的天女，宁缺用自己的真心和实际行动感化了天女，唤回了天女身上人性的光辉，也找回了他的桑桑。

2024年农历新年，于江苏仪征朴席镇李桥村拍摄。