春節檔果然是盛產黑馬，《你好！李煥英》逆襲《唐人街探案3》已經是板上釘釘
截至2月21號16點，《你好！李煥英》票房突破39.47億，連續多日票房和排片均碾壓《唐人街探案3》，累計票房也迅速拉近距離。目前和《唐人街探案3》39.95億票房只差了不到5000萬
最遲明天就可以完成反超
不出意外的話《你好！李煥英》最終票房將突破50億，成為《戰狼2》《哪吒之魔童降世》之後第三部達到這個成就的國產片
賈玲成為中國影史票房最高女導演，沈騰超越吳京加冕中國影史票房王
《唐人街探案3》票房不如預期也讓陳思誠沒能超越吳京成為中國影史票房最高導演，也沒能讓王寶強超越吳京成為中國影史票房王，反而是《你好！李煥英》幫助賈玲和沈騰站上了中國影史的焦點
不得不承認，中國影壇男演員號召力遠勝於女演員
個人作品票房中已經有10位男演員加入百億票房俱樂部，而華語女演員還沒有一人達成這個成就
導演就更不用說，有票房號召力的女導演鳳毛麟角。
但賈玲打破了歷史，作為自導自演的處女作。《你好！李煥英》極有可能殺入中國影史票房前三。賈玲的個人號召力大大提升。也許在不遠的將來華語電影將誕生第一個百億女演員
當然這次《你好！李煥英》成功很大的功勞要記在沈騰身上
作為《你好！李煥英》最大的宣傳賣點，如果沒有沈騰，《你好！李煥英》就是一部普通的喜劇片。絕對沒有現在的關注度，賈玲聰明就聰明在拉上了沈騰這位目前喜劇片號召力最強的演員
其實沈騰一開始就是客串，賈玲不斷給沈騰加戲變成了男主角
就算這樣，沈騰在《你好！李煥英》劇組就拍了七天。為了趕上沈騰的檔期，全劇組那是加班加點。
賈玲也沒有辜負沈騰的友情，在《你好！李煥英》39億票房的助力下，沈騰也超越了吳京，個人作品票房高達182億。成為中國影史票房王，而且《你好！李煥英》還在上映，沈騰還在創造新的紀錄
2021年吳京還有一部生猛新片《長津湖》，票房王寶座沈騰坐不穩
沈騰在《你好！李煥英》拍了七天就搶走了吳京的票房王寶座，很大原因在於吳京在2020年票房表現不佳。2020年吳京主演的《金剛川》票房只有11億，遠遠沒有達到30億票房的預期
由於各種原因《金剛川》要在特殊的檔期上映，因此《金剛川》製作周期很緊，從開拍到上映只有3個月時間，這導致《金剛川》很多方面做得確實不佳，觀眾的觀影體驗也不好
《金剛川》的臨時上馬是因為《長津湖》的延期
之所以《金剛川》趕著拍，就是因為本來這個檔期是《長津湖》上映，但《長津湖》題材重大，加上今年情況特殊延期拍攝了。這才導致《金剛川》的失利
一度程度也可以反映中國電影對《長津湖》的重視
《長津湖》絕對可以稱得上神仙陣容，光是導演就有陳凱歌，徐克和林超賢，都是中國頂尖的大導演，編劇蘭曉龍，作品《士兵突擊》《我的團長我的團》。對於軍事題材蘭曉龍是國內編劇的扛把子
還有電影出品公司，攝影等等都是目前華語影壇最頂尖的
可以說《長津湖》拍不好的概率很小，這種史詩大片一旦口碑爆棚，票房肯定是破40億以上。到那時吳京也許能重新奪回票房王的寶座
但沈騰在2022年春節檔還有一部新片《超能一家人》上映，沈騰出演邪惡大反派，相當讓人期待
當然了吳京還有《戰狼3》《流浪地球2》這兩張王牌，沈騰已經確定的《全民狂歡》《獨行月球》兩部新片。今後兩年票房王的爭奪戰應該相當好看
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[以下英文版]
generally understood that you must deduct a few from his
account; he was vain, the fleeting generations of debtors said.
All new-comers were presented to him. He was punctilious in
the exaction of this ceremony. The wits would perform the office
of introduction with overcharged pomp and politeness, but they
could not easily overstep his sense of its gravity. He received them
in his poor room (he disliked an introduction in the mere yard, as
informal—a thing that might happen to anybody), with a kind of
bowed-down beneficence. They were welcome to the Marshalsea,
he would tell them. Yes, he was the Father of the place. So the
world was kind enough to call him; and so he was, if more than
twenty years of residence gave him a claim to the title. It looked
small at first, but there was very good company there—among a
mixture—necessarily a mixture—and very good air.
It became a not unusual circumstance for letters to be put
under his door at night, enclosing half-a-crown, two half-crowns,
now and then at long intervals even half-a-sovereign, for the
Father of the Marshalsea. 『With the compliments of a collegian
taking leave.』 He received the gifts as tributes, from admirers, to a
public character. Sometimes these correspondents assumed
facetious names, as the Brick, Bellows, Old Gooseberry,
Wideawake, Snooks, Mops, Cutaway, the Dogs-meat Man; but he
considered this in bad taste, and was always a little hurt by it.
In the fulness of time, this correspondence showing signs of
wearing out, and seeming to require an effort on the part of the
correspondents to which in the hurried circumstances of
departure many of them might not be equal, he established the
custom of attending collegians of a certain standing, to the gate,
and taking leave of them there. The collegian under treatment,
Charles Dickens
went out." "Almost one hundred square miles," Nim said with a sigh.
"Everything went. Everything." "Well, we didn't know that then. But we
could see it was widespread, so Josie drove directly to Redwood Grove
Hospital, which is where I go if I ever have problems. They have an emergency
generator. The staff took care of me, and I stayed at the hospital for
three days until the power was back on here." "Actually," Nim told her,
"I already knew most of that. As soon as I could after those explosions
and the blackout, I phoned your number. I was at the office; I'd been called
in from home. When there was no answer I had someone contact the hospital,
which is listed on your info sheet. They told us you were there, so I stopped
worrying because there was lots to do that night." "It was an awful thing,
Nimrod. Not just the blackout, but those two men murdered." "Yes, they
were old-timers," Nim said, "pensioners who were brought back in because
we were short of experienced security help. Unfortunately their experience
belonged to another era and we found out later that the worst they'd ever
dealt with was an occasional trespasser or small-time thief. They were
no match for a killer."
"Whoever did it hasn't been caught yet?"
Nim shook his head. "It's someone we, and the police, have been looking
for for a long time. The worst thing is, we still haven't the slightest
idea who he is or where he operates from."
"But isn't it a group-Friends of Freedom?"
Page 137
"Yes. But the police believe the group is small, probably no more than
a half-dozen people, and that one man is the brains and leader. They say
there are similarities in all the incidents so far which point to
203
. that-like a personal handwriting. Whoever he is, the man's a homicidal
maniac." Nim spoke feelingly. The effect of the latest bombing on the GSP
& L system had been far worse than any other preceding it. Over an unusually
wide area, homes, businesses and factories bad been deprived of electric
power for three to four days in many cases, a week in others, reminding
Nim of Harry London's observation several weeks earlier that, "Those
crazies are getting smart." Only by a massive, costly effort which required
bringing in all of GSP & L's spare transformers, borrowing some from other
utilities, and diverting all available personnel to effect repairs, had
power been re-stored as quickly as it was. Even so, GSP & L was being
criticized for failure to protect its installations adequately. "The
public is entitled to ask," the California Examiner pontificated in an
editorial, "if Golden State Power & Light is doing all it can to prevent
a recurrence. judging by available evidence, the answer is 'no."' However,
the newspaper offered no suggestion as to how the enormous, widespread
GSP & L network could be protected everywhere twenty-four hours a day.
Equally depressing was the absence of any immediately usable clues. True,
the law enforcement agencies had obtained another voice print, matching
earlier ones, from the bombastic tape recording received by a radio station
the day after the bombings. As well, there were some threads of denim
material snagged on a cut wire near the site of the double murder, almost
certainly from a garment worn by the attacker. The same wire also revealed
dried blood which had been typed and found to differ from the blood of
both dead guards. But, as a senior police detective told Nim in a moment
of frankness, "Those things can be useful when we have someone or something
to match them with. Right now we're no nearer to having that than we were
before." "Nimrod," Karen said, interrupting his thoughts. "It's been
almost two months since we were together. I've truly missed you."
He told her contritely, "I'm sorry. I really am." Now that be was here,
Nim wondered bow he could have staved away so long. Karen was as beautiful
as be remembered her and, when the~ kissed a few minutes ago-a lingering
kiss-her lips were loving, just as they had seemed before. It was as if,
in a single instant, the gap in time had closed. Something else Nim was
aware of: In Karen's company he experienced a sense of peace, as happened
with few other people be knew. The feeling was hard to define, except
perhaps that Karen, who had come to terms with the limitations of her own
life, transmitted a tranquillity and wisdom suggesting that other problems,
too, could be resolved. "It's been a difficult time for you," she
acknowledged. "I know because I read what the newspapers said about you,
and saw reports on television,"
204
『Would these two travellers make much difference to the
horses, if we took them with us?』 asked his mistress, offering no
reply to the philosophical inquiry, and pointing to Nell and the old
man, who were painfully preparing to resume their journey on
foot.
『They』d make a difference in course,』 said George doggedly.
『Would they make much difference?』 repeated his mistress.
『They can’t be very heavy.』
『The weight o』 the pair, mum,』 said George, eyeing them with
the look of a man who was calculating within half an ounce or so,
『would be a trifle under that of Oliver Cromwell.」
Nell was very much surprised that the man should be so
accurately acquainted with the weight of one whom she had read
of in books as having lived considerably before their time, but
speedily forgot the subject in the joy of hearing that they were to
go forward in the caravan, for which she thanked its lady with
unaffected earnestness. She helped with great readiness and
alacrity to put away the tea-things and other matters that were
lying about, and, the horses being by that time harnessed,
mounted into the vehicle, followed by her delighted grandfather.
Their patroness then shut the door and sat herself down by her
drum at an open window; and, the steps being struck by George
and stowed under the carriage, away they went, with a great noise
of flapping and creaking and straining, and the bright brass
knocker, which nobody ever knocked at, knocking one perpetual
double knock of its own accord as they jolted heavily along.
Charles Dickens
Chapter
W
hen they had travelled slowly forward for some short
distance, Nell ventured to steal a look round the
caravan and observe it more closely. One half of it—that
moiety in which the comfortable proprietress was then seated—
was carpeted, and so partitioned off at the further end as to
accommodate a sleeping-place, constructed after the fashion of a
berth on board ship, which was shaded, like the little windows,
with fair white curtains, and looked comfortable enough, though
by what kind of gymnastic exercise the lady of the caravan ever
contrived to get into it, was an unfathomable mystery. The other
half served for a kitchen, and was fitted up with a stove whose
small chimney passed through the roof. It held also a closet or
larder, several chests, a great pitcher of water, and a few cookingutensils and articles of crockery. These latter necessaries hung
upon the walls, which, in that portion of the establishment devoted
to the lady of the caravan, were ornamented with such gayer and
lighter decorations as a triangle and a couple of well-thumbed
tambourines.
The lady of the caravan sat at one window in all the pride and
poetry of the musical instruments, and little Nell and her
grandfather sat at the other in all the humility of the kettle and
saucepans, while the machine jogged on and shifted the darkening
prospect very slowly. At first the two travellers spoke little, and
only in whispers, but as they grew more familiar with the place
they ventured to converse with greater freedom, and talked about
the country through which they were passing, and the different
objects that presented themselves, until the old man fell asleep;
Charles Dickens
which the lady of the caravan observing, invited Nell to come and
sit beside her.
『Well, child,』 she said, 『how do you like this way of travelling?』
Nell replied that she thought it was very pleasant indeed, to
which the lady assented in the case of people who had their spirits.
For herself, she said, she was troubled with a lowness in that
respect which required a constant stimulant; though whether the
aforesaid stimulant was derived from the suspicious bottle of
which mention has been already made or from other sources, she
did not say.
『That’s the happiness of you young people,』 she continued. 『You
don’t know what it is to be low in your feelings. You always have
your appetites too, and what a comfort that is.』
Nell thought that she could sometimes dispense with her own
appetite very conveniently; and thought, moreover, that there was
nothing either in the lady’s personal appearance or in her manner
of taking tea, to lead to the conclusion that her natural relish for
meat and drink had at all failed her. She silently assented,
however, as in duty bound, to what the lady had said, and waited
until she should speak again.
Instead of speaking, however, she sat looking at the child for a
long time in silence, and then getting up, brought out from a
corner a large roll of canvas about a yard in width, which she laid
upon the floor and spread open with her foot until it nearly
reached from one end of the caravan to the other.
『There, child,』 she said, 『read that.』
Nell walked down it, and read aloud, in enormous black letters,
the inscription, 『JARLEY』S WAX-WORK.』
『Read it again,』 said the lady, complacently.
Charles Dickens
102
after shaking hands, would occasionally stop to wrap up
something in a bit of paper, and would come back again calling
『Hi!』
He would look round surprised. 『Me?』 he would say, with a
smile. By this time the collegian would be up with him, and he
would paternally add, 『What have you forgotten? What can I do for
you?』
『I forgot to leave this,』 the collegian would usually return, 『for
the Father of the Marshalsea.』
『My good sir,』 he would rejoin, 『he is infinitely obliged to you.』
But, to the last, the irresolute hand of old would remain in the
pocket into which he had slipped the money during two or three
turns about the yard, lest the transaction should be too
conspicuous to the general body of collegians.
One afternoon he had been doing the honours of the place to a
rather large party of collegians, who happened to be going out,
when, as he was coming back, he encountered one from the poor
side who had been taken in execution for a small sum a week
before, had 『settled』 in the course of that afternoon, and was going
out too. The man was a mere Plasterer in his working dress; had
his wife with him, and a bundle; and was in high spirits.
『God bless you, sir,』 he said in passing.
『And you,』 benignantly returned the Father of the Marshalsea.
They were pretty far divided, going their several ways, when
the Plasterer called out, 『I say!—sir!』 and came back to him.
『It ain’t much,』 said the Plasterer, putting a little pile of
halfpence in his hand, 『but it’s well meant.』
The Father of the Marshalsea had never been offered tribute in
copper yet. His children often had, and with his perfect
Charles Dickens
103
acquiescence it had gone into the common purse to buy meat that
he had eaten, and drink that he had drunk; but fustian splashed
with white lime, bestowing halfpence on him, front to front, was
new.
『How dare you!』 he said to the man, and feebly burst into tears.
The Plasterer turned him towards the wall, that his face might
not be seen; and the action was so delicate, and the man was so
penetrated with repentance, and asked pardon so honestly, that he
could make him no less acknowledgment than, 『I know you meant
it kindly. Say no more.』
『Bless your soul, sir,』 urged the Plasterer, 『I did indeed. I』d do
more by you than the rest of 』em do, I fancy.』
『What would you do?』 he asked.
『I』d come back to see you, after I was let out.』
『Give me the money again,』 said the other, eagerly, 『and I』ll keep
it, and never spend it. Thank you for it, thank you! I shall see you
again?』
『If I live a week you shall.』
They shook hands and parted. The collegians, assembled in
Symposium in the Snuggery that night, marvelled what had
happened to their Father; he walked so late in the shadows of the
yard, and seemed so downcast.
Charles Dickens
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