| 今天再一次带着含泪的微笑欣赏完了十年来最伟大的电影之一——《肖申克的救赎》，依然那样让人深省震撼，充满希望！无时无刻不打动着你，不是经过你的大脑，而是穿过你的眼睛直接击中了你心里的某个角落，然后你突然觉得生命有了意义。
主人公安迪，年轻有为的银行副总裁，却因为妻子的离弃，律师的陷害，法官的误判，监狱的冷酷，狱警的残忍，典狱长的卑劣让自己从事业的巅峰跌到了生活得地狱。这样的不幸发生在其他人身上也许就成了一出让人叹气的悲剧了，在体制和规则下，日渐被同化的人类还有勇气去怀疑吗？像那可怜的老图书管理员，在监狱里度过了大半辈子，一旦获得了假释，离开了熟悉的环境、熟悉的人，他感觉不到自己的价值，找不到自己的位置，给他身体的自由，可他的灵魂呢？只能选择从这个不属于自己的世界消失……可是安迪用平静的态度接受了暂时的遭遇，他把这些暂时的得失看成了生命中必然经历的一个过程，坦然面对厄运的降临和幸运的垂青。
整整二十年啊，多么大勇气，多么执着的信念。他六年每周都不懈地写信为监狱的图书馆迎来的扩建的资金，他教那些"无希望的人"文化，他用十九年的时间挖开了在朋友阿瑞的眼中要挖600年的隧道，在一个风雨交加的夜里， 他通过这条生命的通道，在500尺的污水管道里匍匐前进，在地狱和天堂的一线之隔间匍匐前进，终于，在那个风雨交加的雷鸣闪电之夜，安迪向天空伸出了双臂，不是他抓住了路过的幸运，而是他用20年不懈的精神折服了厄运的顽固感动了幸运女神的高傲，在对那一片湛蓝的天空和大海的向往下，安迪重获自由。也许只有永远记着那句话才能创造这样的现实中的神话——Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things and no good thing ever dies!
It takes a strong man to save himself, and a great man to save another.(强者自助，圣者渡人)，安迪是圣者，他冒着被狱警推下高楼的危险为朋友争得了在屋顶享受啤酒的权利，一刹那自由的权利，那时安迪的眼神是自信的。他不顾私放音乐的后果，让坛坛众生享受到莫扎特的《费加罗婚礼》，那嘹亮高亢的韵律，宛然是在诠释对自由幸福的蕴意，也许没人能听懂也没人想听懂歌声到底在唱什么，但那一刻整个肖申克监狱都被救赎了，没有凶神恶煞的囚徒，没有残酷冷血的狱警，所有的人，不是，是所有的心灵都在抬头仰望着希望的天空，不再有争斗、殴打、凌辱，那是难以言传的美，美得令你心碎，歌声直窜云端，超越失意的梦想，宛如小鸟飞进牢房，使石墙消失无踪，就在这一瞬间，肖申克众囚仿佛重获自由，而安迪在享受沉醉中面对了一星期的私禁，此刻他不孤独，因为歌声在他心中缭绕。
回过头来再想想我们，不奢求做一个圣者，但能否做一个生活中的强者呢？要么汲汲于生，要么汲汲于死，当我们面对挫折和不幸的时候，能否安迪那样学会自救。是的，我们会面对生活的失意，现实的反差，我们会因为不习惯感觉不到自己的价值而考虑过放弃，就像瑞德和布鲁克斯一样，当好不容易获得身体的自由，却因为没有足够的勇气而得不到灵魂的自由，然而瑞德得到了救赎，他做到了，加勒比的天空和海水，让人没有回忆的地方——芝华塔尼欧，一个自由的人正踏上一条未知的但充满希望的路……。
……“我发现自己是如此的激动，以至于不能静静地坐下来思考。我想只有那些重获自由即将踏上新征程的人们才能感受到这种即将揭开未来神秘面纱的激动心情。我希望跨越千山万水握住朋友的手，我希望太平洋的海水如同梦中一样的蓝，我希望……”小岛、木船、旅店，最后，安迪置身海天一线，一切比梦还要美。……
美好的东西往往都在痛苦的彼岸，又或者说是艰辛努力的回报，安迪爬过了500码的粪池管道，他就这样爬向了自由，一点一滴地爬进了人们的心中，每一个人都记住了他，记住了这个外表看似柔弱，内心却无比坚韧的家伙，此刻，他已不再是安迪，而是希望，信念的象征！
“忙着生活或是忙着死去。”影片把生命变成了一种残酷的选择，在一点一滴的叙述中渗入我们的心灵。相信自己，不放弃希望，不放弃努力，耐心地等待生命中属于自己的辉煌，这就是肖申克的救赎。
一座小岛，一叶扁舟，一间旅店，这样的要求应该不算过分。然而这样的要求却要付出怎样的代价，至少需要一把貌似无力的小石锤、一张遮蔽自身本质的明星大海报、一本“得救之道，尽在其中”的圣经，还有十九年的时间。
以下是影片中我所喜欢的对白：
Fear can hold you prisoner, Hope can set you free.
It takes a strong man to save himself, and a great man to save another.
He had a quiet way about him, a walk and a talk that just wasn't normal around here. He strolled, like a man in a park without a care or a worry in the world. Like he had on an invisible coat that would shield him from this place.
We sat and drank with the sun on our shoulders and felt like free men. Hell, we could have been tarring the roof of one of our own houses. We were the Lords of all Creation. As for Andy, he spent that break hunkered in the shade, a strange little smile on his face, watching us drink his beer...You could argue he'd done it to curry favor with the guards, or maybe make a few friends among us cons. Me, I think he did it just to feel normal again, if only for a short while.
These walls are funny. First you hate 'em, then you get used to 'em. Enough time passes, it gets so you depend on 'em.
I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singin' about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I like to think they were singin' about something so beautiful it can't be expressed in words and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared. Higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away. And for the briefest of moments, every last man at Shawshank felt free.
My wife used to say I'm a hard man to know. Like a closed book. Complained about it all the time. She was beautiful. God, I loved her. I just didn't know how to show it, that's all. I killed her, Red. I didn't pull the trigger, but I drove her away and that's why she died - because of me, the way I am.
It's a little place on the Pacific Ocean. You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific? They sayit has no memory. That's where I want to live the rest of my life. A warm place with no memory. Open up a little hotel right on the beach. Buy some worthless old boat and fix it up new. Take my guests out charter fishing...
Get busy livin' or get busy dyin'.
I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright andwhen they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice, but still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend.
There's not a day goes by I don't feel regret. And not because I'm in here or because you think I should.I look back on the way I was then. A young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try and talk some sense to him. Tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone. This old man is all that's left. I gotta live with that.
Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things and no good thing ever dies.
I find I am so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope.
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