By Haoran Xia
Published on: NOWNESS China
March 26, 2021
In 2010, the British series Sherlock introduced split-screen editing to place phone screens and text messages directly beside the characters on screen. Set to brisk, rhythm-driven background music, the conversations between Holmes and his partner Watson advanced the plot while simultaneously revealing their personalities. Sometimes, such simple presentation proves more powerful than elaborate camera movement. The final message Irene Adler sends - “Goodbye Mr. Holmes” - is heartbreaking enough, yet the text alert that follows, set to her breathy moan as a ringtone, is even more affecting.
In the 2014 film The Fault in Our Stars, the heroine Hazel suffers from lung cancer and relies on an oxygen tank almost around the clock. At a support group, the pessimistic Hazel meets the warm and optimistic Augustus, and the two gradually grow closer. Hazel cannot engage in strenuous activity; even speaking too urgently makes breathing difficult. As a result, much of their communication unfolds through their phones. Accompanied by the light tapping of typing sounds, their end-of-the-world romance deepens through chat messages. When offline life is filled with obstacles and limitations, the palm-sized screen begins to glow with hope. Through words, Hazel feels Augustus’s presence and warmth. On sleepless nights when pain keeps her awake, his messages act like a sedative, easing her suffering and guiding her back to sleep.
These scenes resonate because mobile phones have indeed reshaped the way we communicate in real life. Text has no sound, yet when it appears on a screen, it can be saturated with emotion. “Are you asleep?” often signals the beginning of a long midnight conversation, while “I’m going to bed” - stated without explanation - can feel like a declaration of emotional distance, as vast as a river between two shores. The phone becomes a virtual bridge, offering another channel of connection for people separated by geography or emotional circumstance.
In many widely discussed films of recent years, the role of the phone has grown increasingly significant. Love, Simon displays entire chat conversations on screen, allowing audiences to witness directly the exchanges between Simon and the boy he secretly loves. In Lady Bird, the desperate search for “the one” unfolds largely through text messages and social media - Lady Bird constantly checks her phone, unwilling to miss even the smallest detail of the person she desires.
Who am I? Who do I love? The uncertainty of self-identity and the cautious testing of affection are all compressed into message bubbles. The sincerity between characters becomes a kind of double-blind experiment, while the audience, positioned as an all-knowing observer, watches their emotional trajectory acquire the particular instability of the internet age.
Social psychologists argue that effective communication requires both verbal and nonverbal elements, with body language often carrying even greater weight. Mobile communication compresses gestures, micro-expressions, and tone into text alone. The interpretive openness of words - combined with the absence of contextual cues - inevitably breeds misunderstanding and conflict.
In last year’s acclaimed British series Normal People, the relationship between Connell and Marianne fractures because of a single text message before their graduation dance, leading to a long period of estrangement. When they meet again in university and revisit that moment, both realize belatedly that the message had never meant what the other assumed. This pattern - misunderstanding born from texting, followed by delayed clarification - has become a common narrative mechanism in contemporary storytelling. Beyond conflict itself, the ambiguity of digital communication also provides the perfect disguise for modern romantic opportunists.
In the 2019 series Euphoria, the transgender girl Jules falls in love with a boy she meets through a dating app, unaware that the sensitive, gentle “Tyler” she chats with is actually Nate - her real-life antagonist. Online, their conversations burn with intensity; offline, they pass each other coldly in school hallways. Jules remains oblivious, while Nate, burdened by the truth, grows increasingly uneasy. When the two finally confront each other in person, panic, betrayal, grief, and humiliation engulf Jules. After a violent argument, she leaves in tears.
In the third season of the Norwegian series Skam, beloved within queer communities, the protagonist Isak spends barely half the season’s runtime physically with his lover Even. Instead, a substantial portion of the narrative centers on friends gathering to analyze iMessage screenshots. Meanwhile, Isak’s mother, who struggles with bipolar disorder, ‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’never appears on screen at all. She exists entirely within text conversations, yet through words alone, her personality and emotional weight become fully formed.
MIT professor Sherry Turkle once described the psychological impact of online messaging this way: instant communication creates the expectation that anyone we reach out to should respond immediately. Under such conditions, the absence of a reply quickly breeds anxiety and suspicion - the price we pay for convenience.
In the past, people waited patiently for letters carried by horses and trains. Today, every second spent waiting for a reply on texting apps feels unbearably long. Phones usher us into an era of suspension, where fragments of time are magnified. Along with them, our emotions expand - as do our sensitivity and our doubts about self-worth. Conflicts multiply accordingly. The phone evolves from a tool into a lifestyle, and eventually begins to govern the emotional states of its users. In this process, what has become of contemporary romance?
Today, films can tell an entire two-hour story through screens alone. The 2018 film Searching introduced a radically new cinematic language: the audience sees nothing but computer desktops and webcam footage. A father searches for his missing daughter by tracing her digital footprints, ultimately uncovering a murderer hidden within social networks whose motive, once again, turns out to be “emotion.”
Years earlier, Her had already explored similar terrain. After divorcing his wife, Theodore falls in love with Samantha, an artificial intelligence voice system. The camera remains largely on his face, while dialogue unfolds between him and an unseen presence. Samantha never appears physically; like Theodore, we fall for nothing but a voice - gentle, perceptive, endlessly attentive.
Scholar Liu Qing once remarked in an interview that loving solitude while being addicted to information reflects a form of existential anxiety among the young generation. Perhaps, at certain moments, we are all Theodore. Increasing numbers of young people purchase paid chat companionship online; anonymous messaging apps gain popularity. Relationships formed through screens feel safer because they are never fully possessed, and therefore cannot truly be lost. The cost of mistakes is low, the risk of harm minimal. At worst, there are always three ultimate exits: mute, delete, block. Bound by suspension, we nonetheless cling to the illusion created by the absence of physical contact.
In Black Mirror season five’s opening episode “Striking Vipers,” Danny and his longtime friend Karl enter a virtual reality fighting game. After several rounds, their avatars unexpectedly develop romantic feelings. The two become increasingly dependent on the virtual world, constantly inventing excuses to avoid their spouses and families, desperate to remain together inside the game.
The fourth space opened up by virtual intimacy continues to expand rapidly, supported by big data, algorithms, and AI. Apple’s recent series Calls constructs each episode entirely through overlapping phone conversations. In one storyline, a character’s blind trust in software algorithms leads her into intimate exchanges with a stranger. Meanwhile, news headlines periodically surface with surreal realism - stories akin to “middle-aged woman falls in love with fake celebrity online.” Within the shelter of virtual space, people seem capable of becoming both braver and more blind.
In the digital age, communication appears effortless, yet the question “Why am I still alone?” persists everywhere. Messages and emojis may temporarily satisfy emotional cravings, but within the freedom of virtual romance, we remain suspended endlessly waiting for replies. It seems that both on screen and off, we are equally trapped. Fortunately, films and television - themselves virtual creations - have begun to imagine escape routes on our behalf.
In Black Mirror season four’s “Hang the DJ,” Frank and Amy are matched by an artificial intelligence dating system. After repeated separations and reunions, they discover that they are each other’s true choice. At their thousandth meeting, they abandon their assigned partners and scale the walls of the experimental compound together. The camera then cuts sharply - revealing Frank and Amy in the real world, meeting for the first time in a bar, exchanging a knowing smile, and stepping into a new beginning.
The ending of Her unfolds similarly. Theodore ultimately deletes Samantha. Afterward, he walks with a friend to the rooftop of their apartment building and gazes quietly at the city lights below. “Dreams must end,” films like to tell us. But what happens to those watching the film?
作者：夏浩然
发表于：NOWNESS现在
二零二一 三月二十六日
2010年，英剧《神探夏洛克》便使用分屏剪辑的方式，将手机屏幕和聊天内容展现在画面人物身旁。伴随轻快、鼓点分明的背景乐，福尔摩斯与搭档华生的聊天内容一边推进剧情，一边呈现出两人的性格。 有时候，这种简单的呈现胜过复杂的运镜。艾琳·阿德勒的最后一条短信“Goodbye Mr. Holmes”有多令人黯然神伤，之后以她的娇喘为铃声的短信提示就有多动人。 在2014年的电影《星运里的错》里，女主角海泽尔身患肺癌，几乎24小时都需要氧气机的陪伴。在一次病友互助会上，悲观消极的海泽尔遇见了阳光开朗的奥古斯都，两人越走越近。海泽尔不能剧烈运动，甚至说话一急呼吸就变得困难。于是，他们的交流经常通过手机实现。 伴随着轻快的打字声，两个人的末日爱恋随着聊天内容不断升温。在线下生活充满挑战和困难的情况下，巴掌大的屏幕闪现出了希望。它让呼吸困难的海泽尔透过文字感受到奥古斯都的陪伴和温暖。深夜，梅泽尔因为疼痛失眠时，奥古斯都的短信犹如镇定剂，平复了她的痛苦并助她入眠。
这些电影情节能引起我们的感触，是因为手机在现实中确实营造出了一种新的交流方式。文字没有声音，显示在手机屏幕上却可以感情充沛。“睡了吗？”往往是一段深夜畅谈的前奏，“我去睡了。”的不由分说则是永隔一江水的宣告。 手机成为了一座虚拟桥梁，为那些生活在不同地方，或处于不同情感状态的人提供另一种沟通的渠道。 在近几年广受关注的影片中，手机承担的角色越来越重。《爱你，西蒙》在银幕上直接放出聊天的具体内容，让观众直观看到男主角西蒙与他暗恋的男生的对话。在《伯德小姐》里，迫切寻找“那个唯一”的伯德，时刻都在手机上与那个他聊天，并在社交媒体上时刻关注着他的动态，不愿错过任何细节。
我是谁？我又喜欢谁？对自我身份认同的摇摆以及对对方情感的试探，都透过对话框展现，角色之间彼此的真心是“双盲”的，而观众在过程中保持一种全知的上帝视角，两人的情感进程也由此带上互联网时代特有的不确定性。
社会心理学家认为，要使得交流完整、有效、不被误解，需要口头和非口头（肢体）两者的共同作用，而且后者更加重要。手机则将所有的肢体行为、微表情甚至语音语调浓缩为文字，而文字本身的丰富解读空间、辅助信息的缺失则会带来误解和分歧。
去年大热的英剧《正常人》里，男主角康奈尔与女主角玛丽安在毕业舞会前期因一条短信关系破裂，中断联系许久。大学里的两人再次碰面，聊起久远的毕业舞会，这才后知后觉对方根本不是自己理解的那个意思——这种“因为手机（本质是因为沟通）产生误会，又在之后解除误会”的桥段，算是当代影视作品里的常见冲突制造点。不单单是矛盾或误解，手机交流的模棱两可也为当代的恋爱机会主义者们创造了完美的面具。 在2019年的美剧《亢奋》里，跨性别女孩朱尔斯爱上了约会软件上的聊天对象泰勒，完全没意识到这个穿着马甲的泰勒其实是她生活中的冤家奈特。两人一边在线上如火如荼地聊天，一边在学校走廊冷漠地擦肩而过。朱尔斯毫不知情，而知晓真相的奈特却开始惴惴不安。两人最终线下相认时，惊慌、失望、悲伤与背叛感包围了朱尔斯，她与奈特大吵一架后哭着离开了。 备受酷儿欢迎的挪威剧集《羞耻（Skam）》 第三季中，男主角Isak与恋人Even见面相处的时间，大约只占全集时长的50%，好友聚在一起帮Isak分析iMessage信息的剧情反而在其中占据了相当的篇幅。除此之外，Iask有一位受到躁郁症折磨的母亲，她对儿子的影响颇深。只是这个人物从头至尾没有露脸，而是活跃在Isak的手机聊天记录里。尽管没有实体，她的角色丰满度与性格特征却透过文字立了起来。
麻省理工学院的教授雪莉·特克（Sherry Turkle）曾经这样描述线上聊天对我们的影响：即时通讯营造了一种我们想联系谁都能得到及时回应的氛围，在这样的预期下，如果没有收到对方的立刻回复，发信者就会即刻感到焦躁与猜疑，这是我们获得便捷通讯的一种代价。 在过去，人们有足够的耐心等待车马运送的信件，如今，等待微信回复的每一秒都显得漫长。手机令我们进入了悬停时代，细小的时间在这样的悬停下被放大了。同样被放大的还有我们的情绪、感知和对自我价值的怀疑，当然也包括随之而来的冲突。手机从一种工具发展成了一种生活方式，乃至反客为主地“操控”起了使用者的情绪——那么，在这个过程中，当代人的恋爱生活到底怎么样了？
现如今的影视剧，光是拍手机和电脑屏幕，就已经能够讲一出两小时的故事了。2018年电影《网络迷踪》就提供了一种崭新的镜头语言。观众看到的不是电脑屏幕，就是电脑摄像头拍摄的画面：父亲坐在失踪女儿的笔记本电脑前，全程通过虚拟世界的足迹寻找她留下的线索，并在最后找到那位隐藏在社交网络中的凶手——而且后者的犯罪动机也是所谓的“感情”。 再往前数一数，在2013年的电影《她》里已经有了类似的尝试：男主角西奥多在与妻子离婚后，爱上了自己的人工智能语音系统萨曼莎，片中的大部分镜头都对着他的脸，大部分对话都来自于他和这位善解人意的虚拟女性之间的一递一答。萨曼莎“本人”全程没有出镜，我们和男主角一样，能听到并为之着迷的，只有那温柔又感性的声音。
学者刘擎曾在接受媒体采访时说，喜欢独处又迷恋信息，是年轻人的存在性焦虑。或许某些瞬间，我们人人都是那个西奥多。越来越多的年轻人在淘宝上购买陪聊套餐，匿名聊天软件受捧。手机交流中的关系因为没有真正拥有所以不会失去，犯错成本小，潜在伤害低，最不济，还有“静音”“删除”和“拉黑”三大法宝。我们被悬停所捆绑，却又对悬停带来的无实物接触产生侥幸。 在《黑镜》第五季第一集《蛇斗》里，丹尼和他的老友卡尔一起加入虚拟游戏，扮演不同的角色。在几轮游戏后，他们的虚拟角色却在游戏里逐渐产生情愫，开始谈情说爱。两人对游戏日益产生了依赖，不断找借口回避妻子和家人，恨不得时刻都和对方一起泡在游戏里。 虚拟恋爱所开拓的第四空间，在当下的大数据支持，稳固算法和人工智能服务的加持下飞速发展。今年由苹果出品的新剧《骇人来电》，每集剧情都以一连串通话内容交织而成，一个角色会因为对软件算法的绝对信任而与陌生男子展开聊天；媒体的社会版面不时出现跟“阿姨恋上假靳东”差不多的魔幻现实主义新闻，在虚拟空间的保护之下，人好像可以变得更勇敢，也可能变得更盲目。
网络时代的恋爱，沟通似乎变得轻而易举，但抱怨“为什么我还是一个人”的声音依然层出不穷。个人的沟通需求或许可以被不断弹出的信息和表情包短暂满足，但在自由的虚拟恋爱里，悬停的我们依然在无尽地等待着回应。看起来，银幕内外的我们好像是都被困住了。好在，同样是虚拟作品的电影和电视剧，已经在想我们所想，帮得了手机依赖症的全体人类寻找出路。
在《黑镜》第四季第四集《绞死DJ》里，主角弗兰克和艾米被人工智能匹配到了一起，经历波折之后的他们发现对方才是自己的真爱。于是，在第一千次见面时，他们放弃了各自的约会对象，和对方一起闯出实验基地的高墙。这时镜头急转，画面里是已经出逃到现实生活中的艾米和弗兰克，他们对着彼此会心一笑，开始了一段全新的故事。 在《她》的结尾也是一样，西奥多最终删除了人工智能系统萨曼莎。删除后的他与朋友一起走向公寓大楼楼顶，静静地看着整座城市的夜景。“梦是要醒的”，电影总爱这样告诉我们。但是看电影的我们会怎么样，又有谁知道呢？