本文搬运自阿彼察邦为《Fireflies》 杂志撰写的影评，关于阿巴斯的影片《家庭作业》。

特别鸣谢@btr老师的推荐及分享刊载本文的杂志照片。

在后几小段，阿彼察邦谈及他对遗忘的神秘，电影艺术对遗忘的唤醒和其中温和的残酷性的理解，将自己的导演角色和曾经凝视学生的舞蹈老师相比，寥寥数语，意味深长。是阿彼察邦的语气，也有阿巴斯的味道。

以下为影评全文：

Homework

Every morning at eight o‘clock we sang the national anthem in front of the flagpole. Standing in rows, organised by height, we followed the song with a Buddhist prayer. We begged the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Sangha (monkhood) for moral guidance and protection. In the classroom we sat on a parquet floor while various teachers took turns giving lectures. Our most dreaded subjects were science, handicrafts and classical Thai dance; we knew which teacher possessed which weapon - a yardstick, a blackboard eraser, a rattan whip. In those days there were no rules stopping teachers from hurting students. In dance class, we dressed in a long, red loincloth and lined up, orderly, standing in a room with a mirrored wall in front of us. A middle-aged teacher would stand with her back to us, inspecting our movements through the mirror. If anyone made a mistake, he or she was subjected to flogging. One time my classmate was too afraid to ask for a bathroom break, because she knew this would result in an interruption of the dance flow; she wet herself; soiling the red clothes and the wooden floor.

I recalled the teacher's high-pitched screaming from that afternoon as I watched Abbas Kiarostami’s Homework, fifteen years later, on the other side of the globe. In the theatre a bruise on my calf became fresh. My legs synchronised with the limbs of the boys in the film. They walked, ran, played, stood still under the camera's cold stare. The forgotten mirror room resurfaced. Homework showed me that cinema can dig deep.

Forgetting is mysterious, Cinema is a salvation from the brain's self-protection mechanism. But it is gentle in its brutality, as Mr Kiarostami demonstrates.

Now that my position is behind the lens, I have become the one who stares. I may not be that different from the dance teacher who wouldn't look at reality, only at its reflection. But I don't simply aim fo pristine movements; I dare to look at myself, knowing that this gaze can change everything.

By Apichatpong Weerasethakul