Skip to main content

《给阿嬷的情书》真正让我们担心的,不是电影,而是方言的消失

为什么这么多新加坡人,坚持要看《给阿嬷的情书》的潮州话原版?

有人说,应该让电影院上映更多方言电影;也有人认为没有必要。

其实,我们问错了问题。

真正的问题是:

再过三十、五十年,还有多少人听得懂潮州话、福建话、广东话?

今天走进电影院的大多数观众,都曾经和阿公阿嬷说方言。电影里的每一句对白,都勾起了他们对亲情、乡愁和童年的回忆。

可是,这一代人终将老去。

年轻一代,很多已经不会说方言;有些甚至连华语和中华文化都越来越陌生。

当一种方言消失,消失的不只是语言,而是一种生活方式、一份文化记忆,更是一代人的情感。

《给阿嬷的情书》之所以感动无数人,并不是因为它是一部潮州话电影。

而是因为它用最真实的方言,说出了最真实的人性

它让我们重新想起什么是亲情,什么是感恩,什么是情义

AI可以翻译任何语言,却无法翻译阿嬷叫你乳名时的温度。那是爱的智慧。

科技可以保存资料,却保存不了文化。

真正能够把方言传承下去的,不是电影院,而是我们愿不愿意让年轻人重新认识自己的根。

也许,《给阿嬷的情书》留给我们的,不只是眼泪。

而是一个提醒:

别让方言,成为下一封再也收不到的情书。

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

What an Executive Coach and Business Coach Does

The Secret Under the Mattress: Why would a 79-year Man Bet So Big on 4D?

It was 2007 when we discovered his secret. While moving my father’s mattress, we found them: heaps and heaps of Singapore Pools 4D tickets. They were stacked in layers, a paper trail of lost hopes. What shocked us most wasn’t just the volume, but the stakes. He wasn’t betting a few dollars for fun. He was punting hundreds of dollars per draw—nearly ten times a month. At the time, my siblings and I were furious. Our father was a 79-year-old retiree. We wondered, with a mix of anger and confusion, why a man at his stage of life would need to win such "big money." What was he going to do with the money? We saw it as a reckless habit, a sign of poor judgment in his final years.  Some of us would say, "If I were to give him money to buy 4D, why don't I use the money and buy 4D myself?  At least I have better discipline".  It has taken me two decades, and the experience of raising my own three grown-up children, to finally see the truth that was hidden under that matt...

Head Bleeding when the Chair Falls

The Weight of Silence: What Were We Really Arguing About? My earliest memories are punctuated by the sound of shouting. In 1970, when I was barely 6 years old, I stood as a small witness to the fierce quarrels between my father and my late eldest brother Kah Yang (he passed away in 1971 at the age of 17). As I grew up, these contradictions became the soundtrack of our lives, usually centered around our family's shoe shop and clothing stalls in Chinatown. In the court of family opinion, the verdict was almost always the same: my father was "wrong." He was judged as a man who didn't fulfill his role, who wasn't "burdening" enough for the family’s success. But as I look back from the vantage point of 2026, I have to ask: Was that actually true? Let me finally put to rest what my father did right: the truths that were buried under decades of criticism: Unseen Labor: He worked grueling, long hours. I remember him hauling boxes of goods and equipment to set u...