使用chrome瀏覽器,輕鬆學英文。

如有任何問題,歡迎聯絡我們

希平方
攻其不背
App 開放下載中
希平方
攻其不背
App 開放下載中
免費註冊
! 這組帳號已經註冊過了
Email 帳號
密碼請填入 6 位數以上密碼
已經有帳號了?
忘記密碼
! 這組帳號已經註冊過了
您的 Email
請輸入您註冊時填寫的 Email,
我們將會寄送設定新密碼的連結給您。
寄信了!請到信箱打開密碼連結信
密碼信已寄至
沒有收到信嗎? 點這裡重寄一次
如果您尚未收到信,請前往垃圾郵件查看,謝謝!

恭喜您註冊成功!

查看會員功能

註冊未完成

《HOPE English 希平方》服務條款關於個人資料收集與使用之規定

隱私權政策
上次更新日期:2014-12-30

希平方 為一英文學習平台,我們每天固定上傳優質且豐富的影片內容,讓您不但能以有趣的方式學習英文,還能增加內涵,豐富知識。我們非常注重您的隱私,以下說明為當您使用我們平台時,我們如何收集、使用、揭露、轉移及儲存你的資料。請您花一些時間熟讀我們的隱私權做法,我們歡迎您的任何疑問或意見,提供我們將產品、服務、內容、廣告做得更好。

本政策涵蓋的內容包括:希平方 如何處理蒐集或收到的個人資料。
本隱私權保護政策只適用於: 希平方 平台,不適用於非 希平方 平台所有或控制的公司,也不適用於非 希平方 僱用或管理之人。

個人資料的收集與使用
當您註冊 希平方 平台時,我們會詢問您姓名、電子郵件、出生日期、職位、行業及個人興趣等資料。在您註冊完 希平方 帳號並登入我們的服務後,我們就能辨認您的身分,讓您使用更完整的服務,或參加相關宣傳、優惠及贈獎活動。希平方 也可能從商業夥伴或其他公司處取得您的個人資料,並將這些資料與 希平方 所擁有的您的個人資料相結合。

我們所收集的個人資料, 將用於通知您有關 希平方 最新產品公告、軟體更新,以及即將發生的事件,也可用以協助改進我們的服務。

我們也可能使用個人資料為內部用途。例如:稽核、資料分析、研究等,以改進 希平方公司 產品、服務及客戶溝通。

瀏覽資料的收集與使用
希平方 自動接收並記錄您電腦和瀏覽器上的資料,包括 IP 位址、希平方 cookie 中的資料、軟體和硬體屬性以及您瀏覽的網頁紀錄。

隱私權政策修訂
我們會不定時修正與變更《隱私權政策》,不會在未經您明確同意的情況下,縮減本《隱私權政策》賦予您的權利。隱私權政策變更時一律會在本頁發佈;如果屬於重大變更,我們會提供更明顯的通知 (包括某些服務會以電子郵件通知隱私權政策的變更)。我們還會將本《隱私權政策》的舊版加以封存,方便您回顧。

服務條款
歡迎您加入看 ”希平方”
上次更新日期:2013-09-09

歡迎您加入看 ”希平方”
感謝您使用我們的產品和服務(以下簡稱「本服務」),本服務是由 希平方 所提供。
本服務條款訂立的目的,是為了保護會員以及所有使用者(以下稱會員)的權益,並構成會員與本服務提供者之間的契約,在使用者完成註冊手續前,應詳細閱讀本服務條款之全部條文,一旦您按下「註冊」按鈕,即表示您已知悉、並完全同意本服務條款的所有約定。如您是法律上之無行為能力人或限制行為能力人(如未滿二十歲之未成年人),則您在加入會員前,請將本服務條款交由您的法定代理人(如父母、輔助人或監護人)閱讀,並得到其同意,您才可註冊及使用 希平方 所提供之會員服務。當您開始使用 希平方 所提供之會員服務時,則表示您的法定代理人(如父母、輔助人或監護人)已經閱讀、了解並同意本服務條款。 我們可能會修改本條款或適用於本服務之任何額外條款,以(例如)反映法律之變更或本服務之變動。您應定期查閱本條款內容。這些條款如有修訂,我們會在本網頁發佈通知。變更不會回溯適用,並將於公布變更起十四天或更長時間後方始生效。不過,針對本服務新功能的變更,或基於法律理由而為之變更,將立即生效。如果您不同意本服務之修訂條款,則請停止使用該本服務。

第三人網站的連結 本服務或協力廠商可能會提供連結至其他網站或網路資源的連結。您可能會因此連結至其他業者經營的網站,但不表示希平方與該等業者有任何關係。其他業者經營的網站均由各該業者自行負責,不屬希平方控制及負責範圍之內。

兒童及青少年之保護 兒童及青少年上網已經成為無可避免之趨勢,使用網際網路獲取知識更可以培養子女的成熟度與競爭能力。然而網路上的確存有不適宜兒童及青少年接受的訊息,例如色情與暴力的訊息,兒童及青少年有可能因此受到心靈與肉體上的傷害。因此,為確保兒童及青少年使用網路的安全,並避免隱私權受到侵犯,家長(或監護人)應先檢閱各該網站是否有保護個人資料的「隱私權政策」,再決定是否同意提出相關的個人資料;並應持續叮嚀兒童及青少年不可洩漏自己或家人的任何資料(包括姓名、地址、電話、電子郵件信箱、照片、信用卡號等)給任何人。

為了維護 希平方 網站安全,我們需要您的協助:

您承諾絕不為任何非法目的或以任何非法方式使用本服務,並承諾遵守中華民國相關法規及一切使用網際網路之國際慣例。您若係中華民國以外之使用者,並同意遵守所屬國家或地域之法令。您同意並保證不得利用本服務從事侵害他人權益或違法之行為,包括但不限於:
A. 侵害他人名譽、隱私權、營業秘密、商標權、著作權、專利權、其他智慧財產權及其他權利;
B. 違反依法律或契約所應負之保密義務;
C. 冒用他人名義使用本服務;
D. 上載、張貼、傳輸或散佈任何含有電腦病毒或任何對電腦軟、硬體產生中斷、破壞或限制功能之程式碼之資料;
E. 干擾或中斷本服務或伺服器或連結本服務之網路,或不遵守連結至本服務之相關需求、程序、政策或規則等,包括但不限於:使用任何設備、軟體或刻意規避看 希平方 - 看 YouTube 學英文 之排除自動搜尋之標頭 (robot exclusion headers);

服務中斷或暫停
本公司將以合理之方式及技術,維護會員服務之正常運作,但有時仍會有無法預期的因素導致服務中斷或故障等現象,可能將造成您使用上的不便、資料喪失、錯誤、遭人篡改或其他經濟上損失等情形。建議您於使用本服務時宜自行採取防護措施。 希平方 對於您因使用(或無法使用)本服務而造成的損害,除故意或重大過失外,不負任何賠償責任。

版權宣告
上次更新日期:2013-09-16

希平方 內所有資料之著作權、所有權與智慧財產權,包括翻譯內容、程式與軟體均為 希平方 所有,須經希平方同意合法才得以使用。
希平方歡迎你分享網站連結、單字、片語、佳句,使用時須標明出處,並遵守下列原則:

  • 禁止用於獲取個人或團體利益,或從事未經 希平方 事前授權的商業行為
  • 禁止用於政黨或政治宣傳,或暗示有支持某位候選人
  • 禁止用於非希平方認可的產品或政策建議
  • 禁止公佈或傳送任何誹謗、侮辱、具威脅性、攻擊性、不雅、猥褻、不實、色情、暴力、違反公共秩序或善良風俗或其他不法之文字、圖片或任何形式的檔案
  • 禁止侵害或毀損希平方或他人名譽、隱私權、營業秘密、商標權、著作權、專利權、其他智慧財產權及其他權利、違反法律或契約所應付支保密義務
  • 嚴禁謊稱希平方辦公室、職員、代理人或發言人的言論背書,或作為募款的用途

網站連結
歡迎您分享 希平方 網站連結,與您的朋友一起學習英文。

抱歉傳送失敗!

不明原因問題造成傳送失敗,請儘速與我們聯繫!

「Franklin Leonard:我如何意外地改變電影產製方式」- How I Accidentally Changed the Way Movies Get Made


框選或點兩下字幕可以直接查字典喔!

This weekend, tens of millions of people in the United States and tens of millions more around the world, in Columbus, Georgia, in Cardiff, Wales, in Chongqing, China, in Chennai, India will leave their homes, they'll get in their cars or they'll take public transportation or they will carry themselves by foot, and they'll step into a room and sit down next to someone they don't know or maybe someone they do, and the lights will go down and they'll watch a movie.

They'll watch movies about aliens or robots, or robot aliens or regular people. But they will all be movies about what it means to be human. Millions will feel awe or fear, millions will laugh and millions will cry. And then the lights will come back on, and they'll reemerge into the world they knew several hours prior. And millions of people will look at the world a little bit differently than they did when they went in.

Like going to temple or a mosque or a church, or any other religious institution, movie-going is, in many ways, a sacred ritual. Repeated week after week after week. I'll be there this weekend, just like I was on most weekends between the years of 1996 and 1990, at the multiplex, near the shopping mall about five miles from my childhood home in Columbus, Georgia. The funny thing is that somewhere between then and now, I accidentally changed part of the conversation about which of those movies get made.

So, the story actually begins in 2005, in an office high above Sunset Boulevard, where I was a junior executive at Leonardo DiCaprio's production company Appian Way. And for those of you who aren't familiar with how the film industry works, it basically means that I was one of a few people behind the person who produces the movie for the people behind and in front of the camera, whose names you will better recognize than mine. Essentially, you're an assistant movie producer who does the unglamorous work that goes into the creative aspect of producing a movie. You make lists of writers and directors and actors who might be right for movies that you want to will into existence; you meet with many of them and their representatives, hoping to curry favor for some future date. And you read, a lot. You read novels that might become movies, you read comic books that might become movies, you read articles that might become movies, you read scripts that might become movies. And you read scripts from writers that might write the adaptations of the novels, of the comic books, of the articles, and might rewrite the scripts that you're already working on. All this in the hope of finding the next big thing or the next big writer who can deliver something that can make you and your company the next big thing.

So in 2005, I was a development executive at Leonardo's production company. I got a phone call from the representative of a screenwriter that began pretty much the way all of those conversations did: "I've got Leo's next movie." Now in this movie, that his client had written, Leo would play an oil industry lobbyist whose girlfriend, a local meteorologist, threatens to leave him because his work contributes to global warming. And this is a situation that's been brought to a head by the fact that there's a hurricane forming in the Atlantic that's threatening to do Maria-like damage from Maine to Myrtle Beach. Leo, very sad about this impending break up, does a little more research about the hurricane and discovers that in its path across the Atlantic, it will pass over a long-dormant, though now active volcano that will spew toxic ash into its eye that will presumably be whipped into some sort of chemical weapon that will destroy the world.

It was at that point that I asked him, "So are you basically pitching me 'Leo versus the toxic superstorm that will destroy humanity?'" And he responded by saying, "Well, when you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous." And I'm embarrassed to admit that I had the guy send me the script, and I read 30 pages before I was sure that it was as bad as I thought it was. Now, "Superstorm" is certainly an extreme example, but it's also not an unusual one. And unfortunately, most scripts aren't as easy to dismiss as that one.

For example, a comedy about a high school senior, who, when faced with an unplanned pregnancy, makes an unusual decision regarding her unborn child. That's obviously "Juno." Two hundred and thirty million at the worldwide box office, four Oscar nominations, one win. How about a Mumbai teen who grew up in the slums wants to become a contestant on the Indian version of "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?"? That's an easy one—"Slumdog Millionaire." Three hundred seventy-seven million worldwide, 10 Oscar nominations and eight wins. A chimpanzee tells his story of living with the legendary pop star Michael Jackson. Anyone?

It's a trick question. But it is a script called "Bubbles," that is going to be directed by Taika Waititi, the director of "Thor: Ragnarok."

So, a large part of your job as a development executive is to separate the "Superstorms" from the "Slumdog Millionaires," and slightly more generally, the writers who write "Superstorm" from the writers who can write "Slumdog Millionaire." And the easiest way to do this, obviously, is to read all of the scripts, but that's, frankly, impossible. A good rule of thumb is that the Writers Guild of America registers about 50,000 new pieces of material every year, and most of them are screenplays. Of those, a reasonable estimate is about 5,000 of them make it through various filters, agencies, management companies, screenplay compositions and the like, and are read by someone at the production company or major studio level. And they're trying to decide whether they can become one of the 300-and-dropping movies that are released by the major studios or their sub-brands each year.

I've described it before as being a little bit like walking into a members-only bookstore where the entire inventory is just organized haphazardly, and every book has the same, nondescript cover. Your job is to enter that bookstore and not come back until you've found the best and most profitable books there. It's anarchic and gleefully opaque.

And everyone has their method to address these problems. You know, most rely on the major agencies and they just assume that if there's great talent in the world, they've already found their way to the agencies, regardless of the structural barriers that actually exist to get into the agencies in the first place. Others also constantly compare notes among themselves about what they've read and what's good, and they just hope that their cohort group is the best, most wired and has the best taste in town. And others try to read everything, but that's, again, impossible. If you're reading 500 screenplays in a year, you are reading a lot. And it's still only a small percentage of what's out there.

Fundamentally, it's triage. And when you're in triage, you tend to default to conventional wisdom about what works and what doesn't. That a comedy about a young woman dealing with reproductive reality can't sell. That the story of an Indian teenager isn't viable in the domestic marketplace or anywhere else in the world outside of India. That the only source of viable movies is a very narrow groups of writers who have already found their way to living and working in Hollywood, who already have the best representation in the business, and are writing a very narrow band of stories.

And I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit, that that's where I found myself in 2005. Sitting in that office above Sunset Boulevard, staring down that metaphorical anonymized bookstore, and having read nothing but bad scripts for months. And I took this to mean one of two things: either A: I was not very good at my job, which was, ostensibly, finding good scripts, or B: reading bad scripts was the job. In which case, my mother's weekly phone calls, asking me if my law school entrance exam scores were still valid was something I should probably pay more attention to. What I also knew was that I was about to go on vacation for two weeks, and as bad as reading bad scripts is when it is your job, it's even more painful on vacation. So I had to do something.

So late one night at my office, I made a list of everyone that I had had breakfast, lunch, dinner or drinks with that had jobs similar to mine, and I sent them an anonymous email. And I made a very simple request. Send me a list of up to 10 of your favorite screenplays that meet three criteria. One: you love the screenplay, two: the filmed version of that screenplay will not be in theaters by the end of that calendar year, and three: you found out about the screenplay this year. This was not an appeal for the scripts that would be the next great blockbuster, not an appeal for the scripts that will win the Academy Award, they didn't need to be scripts that their bosses loved or that their studio wanted to make. It was very simply an opportunity for people to speak their minds about what they loved, which, in this world, is increasingly rare.

Now, almost all of the 75 people I emailed anonymously responded. And then two dozen other people actually emailed to participate to this anonymous email address, but I confirmed that they did in fact have the jobs they claimed to have. And I then compiled the votes into a spreadsheet, ran a pivot table, output it to PowerPoint, and the night before I left for vacation, I slapped a quasi subversive name on it and emailed it back from that anonymous email address to everyone who voted. The Black List. A tribute to those who lost their careers during the anti-communist hysteria of the 1940s and 50s, and a conscious inversion of the notion that black somehow had a negative connotation.

After arriving in Mexico, I pulled out a chair by the pool, started reading these scripts and found, to my shock and joy, that most of them were actually quite good. Mission accomplished. What I didn't and couldn't have expected was what happened next. About a week into my time on vacation, I stopped by the hotel's business center to check my email. This was a pre-iPhone world, after all. And found that this list that I had created anonymously had been forwarded back to me several dozen times, at my personal email address. Everyone was sharing this list of scripts that everyone had said that they loved, reading them and then loving them themselves. And my first reaction, that I can't actually say here, but will describe it as fear, the idea of surveying people about their scripts was certainly not a novel or a genius one. Surely, there was some unwritten Hollywood rule of omerta that had guided people away from doing that before that I was simply too naive to understand, it being so early in my career. I was sure I was going to get fired, and so I decided that day that A: I would never tell anybody that I had done this, and B: I would never do it again.

Then, six months later, something even more bizarre happened. I was in my office, on Sunset, and got a phone call from another writer's agent. The call began very similarly to the call about "Superstorm": "I've got Leo's next movie." Now, that's not the interesting part. The interesting part was the way the call ended. Because this agent then told me, and I quote, "Don't tell anybody, but I have it on really good authority this is going to be the number one script on next year's Black List."

Yeah. Suffice it to say, I was dumbfounded. Here was an agent, using the Black List, this thing that I had made anonymously and decided to never make again, to sell his client to me. To suggest that the script had merit, based solely on the possibility of being included on a list of beloved screenplays. After the call ended, I sat in my office, sort of staring out the window, alternating between shock and general giddiness.

And then I realized that this thing that I had created had a lot more value than just me finding good screenplays to read over the holidays. And so I did it again the next year—and the "LA Times" had outed me as the person who had created it—and the year after that, and the year after that—I've done it every year since 2005. And the results have been fascinating, because, unapologetic lying aside, this agent was exactly right. This list was evidence, to many people, of a script's value, and that a great script had greater value that, I think, a lot of people had previously anticipated. Very quickly, the writers whose scripts were on that list started getting jobs, those scripts started getting made, and the scripts that got made were often the ones that violated the assumptions about what worked and what didn't. They were scripts like "Juno" and "Little Miss Sunshine" and "The Queen" and "The King's Speech" and "Spotlight." And yes, "Slumdog Millionaire." And even an upcoming movie about Michael Jackson's chimpanzee.

Now, I think it's really important that I pause here for a second and say that I can't take credit for the success of any of those movies. I didn't write them, I didn't direct them, I didn't produce them, I didn't gaff them, I didn't make food and craft service—we all know how important that is. The credit for those movies, the credit for that success, goes to the people who made the films. What I did was change the way people looked at them. Accidentally, I asked if the conventional wisdom was correct. And certainly, there are movies on that list that would have gotten made without the Black List, but there are many that definitely would not have. And at a minimum, we've catalyzed a lot of them into production, and I think that's worth noting.

There have been about 1,000 screenplays on the Black List since its inception in 2005. About 325 have been produced. They've been nominated for 300 Academy Awards, they've won 50. Four of the last nine Best Pictures have gone to scripts from the Black List, and 10 of the last 20 screenplay Oscars have gone to scripts from the Black List. All told, they've made about 25 billion dollars in worldwide box office, which means that hundreds of millions of people have seen these films when they leave their homes, and sit next to someone they don't know and the lights go down. And that's to say nothing of post-theatrical environments like DVD, streaming and, let's be honest, illegal downloads.

Five years ago today, October 15, my business partner and I doubled down on this notion that screenwriting talent was not where we expected to find it, and we launched a website that would allow anybody on earth who had written an English-language screenplay to upload their script, have it evaluated, and make it available to thousands of film-industry professionals. And I'm pleased to say, in the five years since its launch, we've largely proved that thesis. Hundreds of writers from across the world have found representation, have had their work optioned or sold. Seven have even seen their films made in the last three years, including the film "Nightingale," the story of a war veteran's psychological decline, in which David Oyelowo's face is the only one on screen for the film's 90-minute duration. It was nominated for a Golden Globe and two Emmy Awards.

It's also kind of cool that more than a dozen writers who were discovered on the website have ended up on this end-of-year annual list, including two of the last three number one writers. Simply put, the conventional wisdom about screenwriting merit—where it was and where it could be found, was wrong. And this is notable, because as I mentioned before, in the triage of finding movies to make and making them, there's a lot of relying on conventional wisdom. And that conventional wisdom, maybe, just maybe, might be wrong to even greater consequence.

Films about black people don't sell overseas. Female-driven action movies don't work, because women will see themselves in men, but men won't see themselves in women. That no one wants to see movies about women over 40. That our onscreen heroes have to conform to a very narrow idea about beauty that we consider conventional. What does that mean when those images are projected 30 feet high and the lights go down, for a kid that looks like me in Columbus, Georgia? Or a Muslim girl in Cardiff, Wales? Or a gay kid in Chennai? What does it mean for how we see ourselves and how we see the world and for how the world sees us?

We live in very strange times. And I think for the most part, we all live in a state of constant triage. There's just too much information, too much stuff to contend with. And so as a rule, we tend to default to conventional wisdom. And I think it's important that we ask ourselves, constantly, how much of that conventional wisdom is all convention and no wisdom? And at what cost?

Thank you.

播放本句

登入使用學習功能

使用Email登入

HOPE English 播放器使用小提示

  • 功能簡介

    單句重覆、上一句、下一句:顧名思義,以句子為單位重覆播放,單句重覆鍵顯示橘色時為重覆播放狀態;顯示灰色時為正常播放狀態。按上一句鍵、下一句鍵時就會自動重覆播放該句。
    收錄佳句:點擊可增減想收藏的句子。

    中、英文字幕開關:中、英文字幕按鍵為綠色為開啟,灰色為關閉。鼓勵大家搞懂每一句的內容以後,關上字幕聽聽看,會發現自己好像在聽中文說故事一樣,會很有成就感喔!
    收錄單字:用滑鼠框選英文單字可以收藏不會的單字。
  • 分享
    如果您覺得本篇短片很有趣或很喜歡,在短片結束時有分享連結,可以分享給朋友一同欣賞,一起看YouTube學英文!

    或是您有收錄很優秀的句子時,也可以分享佳句給大家,一同看佳句學英文!