尤利娅

那束光打在空荡荡的舞台中央，仿佛在等待一个被遗忘的名字。就是它，《尤利娅》，这部悄然浮现的影像，像深夜收音机里偶然捕获的一段频率，带着杂音，却直抵心脏。你或许还没准备好，去迎接这样一场寂静而汹涌的叙事海啸。 它不讲宏大的道理，只是把镜头贴近生活的毛边，贴近一个名叫尤利娅的女人的呼吸。那些琐碎的、带着烟火气的瞬间，被重新剪辑，竟拼凑出我们每个人内心深处的倒影。你看她穿过潮湿的巷子，看她在清晨煮一杯咖啡时微微出神，那些沉默的侧脸，是不是也藏着你自己未曾言说的半生？这部《尤利娅》的魔力就在于此，它不强迫你思考，却让你在不知不觉中，与自己的人生对坐相望。 有人说，这是一封写给所有平凡灵魂的情书。我反而觉得，它更像一次温柔的质询。当日常的尘埃落定，我们是否还能辨认出自己最初的模样？影片里流淌的光影和近乎叹息的配乐，织成一张网，网住所有稍纵即逝的情绪。你感到一种熟悉的“困惑”，仿佛在别人的故事里，认领了自己散落的碎片。 别指望从这里找到清晰的答案。真正的震撼，往往来自那些没有答案的凝视。这部作品的价值，恰恰在于它邀请你沉浸，而非解读。点开《尤利娅》吧，让自己沉入那片既陌生又熟悉的情绪之海。当片尾字幕升起，灯光亮起，你带回现实世界的，或许会是那么一点点，被悄然擦亮的真心。

A story of faith and disbelief. Of uprootedness and affiliation. What makes a boy from art school decide to leave home and live as a girl on the streets of Berlin selling her body for money? For more than ten years, photographer and filmmaker J. Jackie Baier followed transsexual Julia K. from her birthplace, Klaipeda in Lithuania, to her tough life on the streets as a hooker, outlaw and nonconformist who never signed any social contract. 　　"Julia is missing again. Yesterday I visited her in the porn cinema, in where she has crashed for the last six months. We sat in the common room of the hookers, which doubled as Julia´s bedroom; a smoky, dingy basement without any daylight, roughly the size of a prison cell, with a couch, a counter, a coffee machine and a TV, out of which some cheap television series blared at full volume. This room was what her life was limited to. She only left it when Mamsell called her for a client. I´d seen her for the very first time while she still worked at a bar in Wilmersdorf. For some time we both worked there, tempting clients with booze, offers of sex, whatever would bring in money. I soon left the business, though. The madam was simply not convinced that I was a good hooker and actually she was right - even though I learned a lot by watching Julia. Julia was soon to be out as well. She didn´t really get along in that joint. The madam had some kind of style, while Julia just had her style. It just couldn´t work. Afterwards they said that Julia was always drunk, but that can´t have been the reason, since if she had always been drunk, it probably would have worked out with the boss, who was chronically drunk herself, after all. About a year later I met Julia again. I was riding on a bus to Schöneberg, and she was at the corner of Froben-and Bülow - hustling at the strip. We drank a couple of beers at Bianca´s kiosk and she asked at some point if I wouldn´t mind taking some pictures of her again. I didn´t have my proper camera on me, just my mobile. I took some shots and once I left, promised to return. When I went back two nights later, this time with my camera, Julia had vanished. At the kiosk they said that she was dead, probably frozen to death somewhere. But then she reappeared." [J. Jackie Baier, 2006] 　　J. Jackie Baier (b. 1955 in Kiel, Germany) received an MA in Literature at the University of Essen in 1982. She worked as assistant director on films by, among others, Peter von Zahn, Michael Lentz, and Adolf Winkelmann, and made several documentaries. In 1983 she made her feature directorial debut with Die Mission - Film vom Frieden und seinem Krieg (which premiered at the Berlinale (Forum). From 1985 to 1988 she wrote and directed two television movies for ZDF, Die Splitter der Eisbombe and Frühstück für Feinde. She has directed TV series since 1995. She had a sex change in 1997; Johanna Jackie Baier was officially a woman. She started to experiment extensively with photography and has exhibited her work at national and international art fairs. In 2006, she presented a selection of photographs and a short film as part of the group show SEX WORK (Neue Gesellschaft für bildende Kunst, Berlin). In 2011 Baier´s feature-length documentary House of Shame premiered at the 61st Berlin International Film Festival. 　　2013 Julia (doc) 　　2011 House of Shame: Chantal All Night Long (doc) 　　1988 Frühstück Für Feinde 　　1984/85 Die Splitter Der Eisbombe 　　1983 Die Mission - Film vom Frieden und seinem Krieg