春節檔最大的黑馬電影應該就是《你好，李煥英》了，這部電影在上線之前其實並不被看好，因為賈玲不是專業的導演，這部電影的劇本也沒有專業的編劇團隊，而是改編自賈玲之前的同名小品。好在賈玲和沈騰的號召力強，加上之前宣發得比較到位，上線5天《你好，李煥英》就拿下了20億票房。
但這次電影的爆火，不僅讓大家更喜愛沈騰和賈玲了，而且還認識了一個一直被埋沒的實力派演員，她就是張小斐。張小斐是賈玲團隊的一名演員，因為其出色的演技和實力，也成為了除了賈玲之外大家最喜歡的小品演員，這些年配合賈玲出演過很多作品，李煥英就是她最成功的角色。
其實張小斐並不是專業的小品演員，她其實是專業表演出身，是2005級北京電影學院畢業的。大學期間張小斐就參演了一些電視作品，但反響並不強烈，不得不說張小斐的長相併不是傳統意義上的美女，她屬於那種韻味型的，需要懂她的人去發掘。
在影視圈浮浮沉沉將近十年，張小斐終於找到了她的機會，2016年她成為大碗娛樂首位籤約女藝人，隨後參加《喜劇總動員》，並取得第二賽段的冠軍，次年參加《歡樂喜劇人第三季》。還登上了2021年春晚的舞臺。與此同時《你好，李煥英》也同步上線，她成為了人們心中那個最美的「媽媽」。
張小斐的成名之路非常坎坷，與她相對應的就是同屆的同學楊冪了。楊冪從小就展現出了驚人的表演天賦，後來也順利考入了北電，和張小斐不同，楊冪畢業之後事業順風順水，出演《宮》以後幾乎是家喻戶曉，楊冪開啟了內娛的流量時代，也是第一個微博破1億的藝人。
但是因為張小斐一直默默無聞，不少人都不知道她們是同學的關係，直到前不久，一張同學聚會的合影曝光，才讓大家發現這層關係。這是05級北電的同學聚會，楊冪自然是坐在C位，其他同學的臉上都洋溢著幸福的笑容，大家都一起擺出5這個姿勢，而楊冪身邊的正是張小斐。
當初這張照片曝光的時候，大家的注意力都集中在楊冪的身上，現在再看這張照片，你會發現，張小斐一直都在楊冪身邊默默的發出著耀眼的光。有趣的是這對老同學在今年的春節檔成為了對手。張小斐主演的《你好，李煥英》和楊冪參演的《刺殺小說家》同時上線。
而截止目前票房數據，李煥英是小說家的5倍，張小斐第一次勝利了。這次李煥英的成功，意味著張小斐從幕後走到了臺前，觀眾一旦認識了這個演員，那麼她將不會再被遺忘。
你覺得張小斐在《你好，李煥英》中的演技怎麼樣？
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[以下英文版]
Next, she covered every detail of his second visit from the moment,
coming from behind the rock after her swim in the lagoon, she had
gazed upon him leaning against the rock as he scribbled his first note to
her, through her startled flight into the jungle, the bite on her knee of the
labarri (which she had mistaken for a deadly viperine), to her recoiling
collision against Francis and her faint on the sand. And, under her parasol, she sat down on the very spot where she had fainted and come to, to
find him preparing to suck the poison from the wound which he had
already excoriated. As she remembered back, she realized that it had
been the pain of the excoriation which brought her to her senses.
Deep she was in the sweet recollections of how she had slapped his
cheek even as his lips approached her knee, blushed with her face hidden in her hands, laughed because her foot had been made asleep by his
too-efficient tourniquet, turned white with anger when he reminded her
that she considered him the murderer of her uncle, and repulsed his offer to untie the tourniquet. So deep was she in such fond recollections of
only the other day that yet seemed separated from the present by half a
century, such was the wealth of episode, adventure, and tender passages
which had intervened, that she did not see the rattletrap rented carriage
from San Antonio drive up the beach road. Nor did she see a lady, fashionably clad in advertisement that she was from New York, dismiss the
carriage and proceed toward her on foot. This lady, who was none other
than the Queen, Francis' wife, likewise sheltered herself beneath a parasol from the tropic sun.
Standing directly behind Leoncia, she did not realize that she had surprised the girl in a moment of high renunciation. All that she did know
was that she saw Leoncia draw from her breast and gaze long at a tiny
photograph. Over her shoulder the Queen made it out to be a snapshot
of Francis, whereupon her mad jealousy raged anew. A poinard flashed
to her hand from its sheath within the bosom of her dress. The quickness
of this movement was sufficient to warn Leoncia, who tilted her parasol
258
forward so as to look up at whatever person stood at her back. Too utterly dreary even to feel surprise, she greeted the wife of Francis Morgan
as casually as if she had parted from her an hour before. Even the
poinard failed to arouse in her curiosity or fear. Perhaps, had she displayed startlement and fear, the Queen might have driven the steel home
to her. As it was, she could only cry out.
"You are a vile woman! A vile, vile woman!"
To which Leoncia merely shrugged her shoulders, and said:
"You would better keep your parasol between you and the sun."
The Queen passed round in front of her, facing her and staring down
at her w r ith woman's wrath compounded of such jealousy as to be
speechless.
"Why?" Leoncia was the first to speak, after a long pause. "Why am I a
vile woman?"
"Because you are a thief," the Queen flamed. "Because you are a stealer
of men, yourself married. Because you are unfaithful to your husband in
heart, at least, since more than that has so far been impossible."
"I have no husband," Leoncia answered quietly.
"Husband to be, then I thought you were to be married the day after
our departure."
"I have no husband to be," Leoncia continued with the same quietness.
So swiftly tense did the other woman become that Leoncia idly
thought of her as a tigress.
"Henry Morgan!" the Queen cried.
"He is my brother."
"A word which I have discovered is of wide meaning, Leoncia Solano.
In New York there are worshippers at certain altars who call all men in
the world 'brothers,' all women "sisters."
"His father was my father," Leoncia explained with patient explicitness. "His mother was my mother. We are full brother and sister."
"And Francis?" the other queried, convinced, with sudden access of interest. "Are you, too, his sister?"
Leoncia shook her head.
"Then you do love Francis!" the Queen charged, smarting with
disappointment.
"You have him," said Leoncia.
259
"No; for you have taken him from me."
Leoncia slowly and sadly shook her head and sadly gazed out over the
heat-shimmering surface of Chili qui Lagoon.
After a long lapse of silence, she said, wearily, "Believe that. Believe
anything."
"I divined it in you from the first," the Queen cried. "You have a
strange power over men. I am a woman not unbeautiful. Sine I have
been out in the world I have watched the eyes of men looking at me. I
know I am not all undesirable. Even have the wretched males of my Lost
Valley with downcast eyes looked love at me. On dared more than look,
and he died for me, or because of me, and was flung into the whirl of
waters to his fate. And yet you, with this woman's power of yours,
strangely exercise it over my Francis so that in my very arms he thinks of
you. I know it. I know that even then he thinks of you!"
Her last words were the cry of a passion-stricken and breaking heart.
And the next moment, though very little to Leoncia's surprise, being too
hopelessly apathetic to b surprised at anything, the Queen dropped her
knife in th sand and sank down, buried her face in her hands, and surrendered to the weakness of hysteric grief. Almost idly, and quit mechanically, Leoncia put her arm around her and comforted her. For many
minutes this continued, when th Queen, growing more cairn, spo^e with
sudden determination.
"I left Francis the moment I knew he loved you," she said. "I drove my
knife into the photograph of you he keeps in his bedroom, and returned
here to do the same to you in person. But I was wrong. It is not your
fault, nor Francis'. It is my fault that I have failed to win his love. Not
you, but I it is who must die. But first, I must go back to my valley and
recover my treasure. In the temple called Wall Street, Francis is in great
trouble. His fortune may be taken away from him, and he requires another fortune to save his fortune. I have that fortune, and there is no time
to lose. Will you and yours help me? It is for Francis' sake."
"I believe it," said the big man humbly. "I b'lieve he would of cleaned
up on me. Maybe on all of us. Black Jack would of come close to doing it.
But you come in time, Pete. And I'll never forget it."
While he spoke, he was still wringing the hands of Terry. Now he
dragged the stunned Terry around the table and forced him down in his
own huge, padded armchair, his sign of power. But it was only to drag
him up from the chair again.
"Lemme look at you! Black Jack's boy! As like Black Jack as ever I seen,
too. But a shade taller. Eh, Pete? A shade taller. And a shade heavier in
the shoulders. But you got the look. I might of knowed you by the look
in your eyes. Hey, Slim, damn your good-for-nothing hide, drag Johnny
here pronto by the back of the neck!"
Johnny, the Chinaman, appeared, blinking at the lights. Joe Pollard
clapped him on the shoulder with staggering force.
"Johnny, you see!" a broad gesture to Terry. "Old friend. Just find out.
Velly old friend. Like pretty much a whole damned lot. Get down in the
129
cellar, you yaller old sinner, and get out the oldest bourbon I got there.
You savvy? Pretty damned pronto—hurry up—quick—old keg. Git out!"
Johnny was literally hurled out of the room toward the kitchen, trailing a crackle of strange-sounding but unmistakable profanity behind
him. And Joe Pollard, perching his bulk on the edge of the table, introduced Terry to the boys again, for Oregon had come back with word that
Kate would be out soon.
"Here's Denver Pete. You know him already, and he's worth his
weight in any man's company. Here's Slim Dugan, that could scent a big
coin shipment a thousand miles away. Phil Marvin ain't any slouch at
stalling a gent with a fat wallet and leading him up to be plucked. Marty
Cardiff ain't half so tame as he looks, and he's the best trailer that ever
squinted at a buzzard in the sky; he knows this whole country like a
book. And Oregon Charlie is the best all-around man you ever seen,
from railroads to stages. And me—I'm sort of a handyman. Well, Black
Jack, your old man himself never got a finer crew together than this, eh?"
Denver Pete had waited until his big friend finished. Then he remarked quietly: "All very pretty, partner, but Terry figures he walks the
straight and narrow path. Savvy?"
"Just a kid's fool hunch!" snorted Joe Pollard. "Didn't your dad show
me the ropes? Wasn't it him that taught me all I ever knew? Sure it was,
and I'm going to do the same for you, Terry. Damn my eyes if I ain't!
And here I been sitting, trimming you! Son, take back the coin. I was sure
playing a cheap game—and I apologize, man to man."
But Terry shook his head.
"You won it," he said quietly. "And you'll keep it."
"Won nothing. I can call every coin I throw. I was stealing, not
gambling. I was gold-digging! Take back the stuff!"
"If I was fool enough to lose it that way, it'll stay lost," answered Terry.
"But I won't keep it, son."
"Then give it away. But not to me."
"Black Jack—" began Pollard.
But he received a signal from Denver Pete and abruptly changed the
subject.
"Let it go, then. They's plenty of loose coin rolling about this day. If
you got a thin purse today, I'll make it fat for you in a week. But think of
me stumbling on to you!"
130
It was the first time that Terry had a fair opportunity to speak, and he
made the best of it.
"It's very pleasant to meet you—on this basis," he said. "But as for taking up—er—road life—"
The lifted hand of Joe Pollard made it impossible for him to complete
his sentence.
"I know. You got scruples, son. Sure you got 'em. I used to have 'em,
too, till your old man got 'em out of my head."
Terry winced. But Joe Pollard rambled on, ignorant that he had struck
a blow in the dark: "When I met up with the original Black Jack, I was
slavin' my life away with a pick trying to turn ordinary quartz into pay
dirt. Making a fool of myself, that's what I was doing. Along comes Black
Jack. He needed a man. He picks me up and takes me along with him. I
tried to talk Bible talk. He showed me where I was a fool.
"'All you got to do,' he says to me, 'is to make sure that you ain't stealing from an honest man. And they's about one gent in three with money
that's come by it honest, in this part of the world. The rest is just plain
thieves, but they been clever enough to cover it up. Pick on that crew,
Pollard, and squeeze 'em till they run money into your hand. I'll show
you how to do it!'
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