The moral narrative in this film revolves around one thing: That what “the boys” did was just a prank. Once you recognize the difference between a prank and a far more serious offense you become awash in the ambiguity inherent in a world without God.
Here is yet another film where the consummate cynic bites the dust. And I bought it. Even though the ending was pat beyond belief.
The guy is a character and then some. And you gotta love a bellowing bullhorn able to humiliate Mr. Trask and his ilk. It’s like watching someone make a fool out of Mitt Romney. Or Barack Obama for that matter.
To really appreciate this film though you have to have been suicidal yourself once. And you have to know what it is like to find a way up out of the hole. I was and I did. And Al Pacino’s acting here [in encompassing this frame of mind] is nothing short of magnificent. It still gives me goosebumps. It goes without saying he won the Oscar that year.
As for those who complain the movie was too long…I challenge them to note the scenes that should have been cut. Okay, maybe the last couple.
IMDb
Director Martin Brest disowned the version of the film shown on airlines and television.
Christ, I can just imagine that “version”.
But here is a director who does Midnight Run and Scent of a Woman back to back. Then goes on the direct Meet Joe Black and Gigli back to back. And nothing since.
SCENT OF A WOMAN
Directed by Martin Brest
[b]George: What’d you do that for? You know he’s on aid.
Harry: On major holidays, Willis, it’s customary for the lord of the manor to offer drippings to the poor.
…
Karen: Down deep, he’s a lump of sugar.
…
Charlie: Sir?
Frank: Don’t call me sir!
Charlie: I’m sorry, I mean mister, sir.
Frank: Uh-oh, we got a moron here.
…
Frank: Your father pedals car telephones at a 300 percent markup. Your mother works on heavy commission at a camera store. Graduated to it from espresso machines. Hah!
[pause]
Frank: What are you, dying of some wasting disease?
Charlie: No, I’m right - I’m right here.
Frank: I know exactly where your body is. What I’m looking for is some indication of a brain.
…
Frank: How’s your skin, son? I like my aides to be presentable.
Charlie: Well, I - I’ve had a few zits. Um, but my roommate, he lent me his Clinique because he’s from…
Frank: “The History of My Skin”, by Charles Simms.[/b]
The Prank:
[b][Headmaster Trask drives into the Baird School driveway in his brand-new Jaguar. He gets out, to hear a voice on a loudspeaker]
Jimmy: [on loudspeaker, but unidentified] Mister Trask is our fearless leader.
[students hear this and gather, looking on at Trask]
Jimmy: A man of learning, a voracious reader. He can recite “The Iliad” in ancient Greek, while fishing for trout in a rippling creek.
Trent: [Trask grins slightly, trying to figure out where the voice is coming from] Endowed with wisdom, of judgement sound, nevertheless about him, the questions abound.
[We now see the same three Baird guys who set up this prank the night before; Harry opens the valve to an oxygen tank connected to a large balloon on a lamppost as Trent passes the microphone to him]
Harry: How does Mister Trask make such wonderful deals? Why did the trustees buy him Jaguar wheels? He wasn’t conniving, he wasn’t crass… he merely puckered his lips… and kissed their ass!
[balloon spins around to reveal a cartoon bearing the words being spoken; the students laugh and mock Trask. Trask pulls out his car keys and opens the Jaguar door, then jumps up to try to pop the balloon with the key. He misses on the first try. On the second try, he succeeds, and a flood of white paint splashes down onto him and all over the car. The students applaud loudly and shout obscenities at him as this catastrophe concludes with Trask kicking the car door closed and attempting to dry his face with handkerchief]
…
Frank: When in doubt… fuck
…
Frank: Ooh, but I still smell her.
[inhales deeply through nose]
Frank: Women! What can you say? Who made ‘em? God must have been a fuckin’ genius. The hair…They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls…just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips…and when they touched, yours were like that first swallow of wine after you just crossed the desert. Tits. Hoo-ah! Big ones, little ones, nipples staring right out at ya, like secret searchlights. Mmm. Legs. I don’t care if they’re Greek columns or secondhand Steinways. What’s between ‘em…passport to heaven. I need a drink. Yes, Mr Sims, there’s only two syllables in this whole wide world worth hearing: pussy. Hah! Are you listenin’ to me, son? I’m givin’ ya pearls here.
…
Frank: Charlie, give me your hand. This is just the start of your education.
…
Frank: This bat has got sharper radar than the Nautilus. Don’t fuck with me, Charlie.
…
Frank: Oh, uh, Charlie - about your little problem - there are two kinds of people in this world: those who stand up and face the music, and those who run for cover. Cover is better
…
Frank: The one that got away…
…
Randy: You want to know the truth?
Frank: You got a handle on that, do you, Randy?
Randy: He was an asshole before.
Frank: Hoo-ah!
Randy: Now all he is is a blind asshole.
Frank: Hoo-ah.
Randy: Hey, God’s a funny guy.
Frank: God doth have a sense of humor.
Randy: Maybe God thinks some people don’t deserve to see.
…
Frank [to his brother]: Goodbye, Willie. I’m no fucking good. I never have been.
…
Charlie: Where’d you get the gun, Colonel?
Frank: Piece or weapon, Charlie, never a gun.
…
Frank: You do see the sense in it, Charlie, don’t you? I can’t chew the leather anymore. So why should I share the tribe’s provisions?
…
Frank: Haven’t you heard? Conscience is dead.
Charlie: No, I haven’t heard.
Frank: Well, then, take the fuckin’ wax outta your ears! Grow up! It’s fuck your buddy, cheat on your wife, call your mother on Mother’s Day! Charlie, it’s all shit.
…
Frank: Ooh, I haven’t had a ticket for in years.
…
[Charlie comes back to the room to see Frank putting on his uniform]
Frank: You’re back too fast. You didn’t get my cigars, did you? Get outta here, Charlie.
[loads the .45]
Charlie: I thought we had a deal.
Frank: I welched. I’m a welcher. Didn’t I tell you?
Charlie: No, what you told me was, that you gave me all the bullets.
Frank: I lied.
Charlie: Yeah, well you could’ve fooled me.
Frank: And I did.
[pause]
Frank: Charlie, how you ever gonna survive in this world without me?
Charlie: Colonel, why don’t you just give me the gun, all right?
[Frank picks up the gun and points it at Charlie]
Charlie: What are you doing?
Frank: I’m gonna shoot you, too. Your life’s finished anyway. Your friend George is gonna sing like a canary. And so are you. And once you’ve sung, Charlie, my boy, you’re gonna take your place on that long, grey line of American manhood. And you will be through.
Charlie: I’d hate to disagree with you, Colonel.
Frank: You’re in no position to disagree with me, boy. I got a loaded .45 here. You got pimples. I’m gonna kill you, Charlie, cause I can’t bear the thought of you SELLIN’ OUT!
…
Frank: You break my heart, son. All my life I’ve stood up to everyone and everything, because it made me feel important. You do it because you mean it. You’ve got integrity, Charlie. I don’t know whether to shoot you or adopt ya.
…
Charlie: You’re just in a slump right now.
Frank: Slump? No slump Charlie. I’m bad. I’m not bad no. I’m rotten.
Charlie: You’re not bad. You’re just in pain.
Frank: What do you know about pain? hmm? You little snail darter from the pacific northwest. What the fuck you know about pain?
Charlie: Let me have the gun Colonel.
Frank: [cocks the .45] No time to grow a dick son.
…
Frank: [pulls the hammer on the gun back] Fuck! Get outta here!
Charlie: So you fucked up all right? So what? So everybody does it. Get on with your life would ya?
Frank: [screaming]: WHAT LIFE? I GOT NO LIFE! I’M IN THE DARK HERE. YOU INDERSTAND? I’M IN THE DARK!
…
Trask: [furious] I am left with no real witness. Mr. Willis’s testimony is not only vague, it is unsubstantiated. The substance I was looking for, Mr. Simms, was to come from you.
Charlie: [remorseful] I’m sorry.
Trask: I’m sorry too, Mr. Simms, because you know what I am going to do. In as much as I can’t punish Mr. Havemeyer, Mr. Potter, or Mr. Jameson, and I won’t punish Mr. Willis. He’s the only party to this incident who is still worthy of calling himself a Baird man. I’m going to recommend to the disciplinary committee that you be expelled. Mr. Simms, you are a cover-up artist and you are a liar.
Frank: But not a snitch!
Trask: Excuse me?
Frank: No, I don’t think I will.
Trask: Mr. Slade…
Frank: This is such a crock of SHIT!
Trask: Please watch your language, Mr. Slade. You are in the Baird School, not a barracks. Mr Simms, I will give you one last opportunity to speak up.
Frank: Mr. Simms doesn’t want it. He desn’t need to labeled, “Still worthy of being a Baird man”. What the hell is that? What is your motto here? “Boys, inform on your classmates, save your hide. Anything short of that, we’re gonna burn you at the stake”? Well, gentlemen, when the shit hits the fan, some guys run and some guys stay. Here’s Charlie facing the fire and there’s George hiding in Big Daddy’s pocket. And what are you doing? You’re gonna reward George and destroy Charlie.
Trask: Are you finished, Mr. Slade?
Frank: No, I’m just gettin’ warmed up. I don’t know who went to this place, William Howard Taft, William Jennings Bryan, William Tell, whoever. Their spirit is dead, if they ever had one. It’s gone. You’re building a rat ship here. A vessel for seagoing snitches, and if you think you’re preparing these minnows for manhood, you better think again, because I say you are killing the very spirit this institution proclaims it instills. What a sham. What kind of a show you guys are putting on here today? I mean, the only class in this act is sitting next to me, and I’m here to tell ya this boy’s soul is intact. It’s non-negotiable. You know how I know? Someone here, and I’m not gonna say who, offered to buy it. Only Charlie here wasn’t selling.
Trask: Sir, you’re out of order.
[Trask hits the gavel; Col. Slade stands up angry]
Frank: Out of order. I’ll show “out of order”! You don’t know what “out of order” is, Mr. Trask. I’d show you, but I’m too old, I’m too tired, I’m too fucking blind. If I were the man I was five years ago, I’d take a FLAMETHROWER to this place! Out of order? Who the hell do ya think you’re talking to? I’ve been around, ya know? There was a time I could see. And I have seen. Boys like these, younger than these. Their arms torn out, their legs ripped off. But there is nothing like the sight of an amputated spirit. There’s no prostetic for that. You think you’re merely sending this splendid foot solder back home to Oregon with his tail between his legs, but I say you are executing his SOUL! And why? Because he’s not a Baird man. Baird men. You hurt this boy, you’re gonna be Baird bums, the lot of ya. And Harry, Jimmy, Trent, wherever you are, fuck you too!
[the student body and the committee are in shock as Trask’s anger is further aggravated]
Trask: [yells; hits the gavel three times] Stand down, Mr. Slade!
Frank: I’m not finished! As I came in here, I heard those words, “Cradle of Leadership”. Well, when the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. And it has fallen here. It has fallen. Makers of men, Creators of leaders. Be careful what kind of leaders you’re producing here. I don’t know if Charlie’s silence here today is right or wrong. I’m not a judge or jury, but I can tell you this: He won’t sell anybody out to buy his future! And that, my friends, is called integrity. That’s called courage. Now that’s the stuff leaders should be made of. Now I have come to the crossroads in my life. I always knew what the right path was. Without exception, I knew. But I never took it. You know why? It was too damn hard. Now here’s Charlie. He’s come to the crossroads. He has chosen a path. It’s the right path. It’s a path made of principle that leads to character. Let him continue on his journey. You hold this boy’s future in your hands, committee. It’s a valuable future. Believe me. Don’t destroy it. Protect it. Embrace it. It’s gonna make you proud one day, I promise you.[/b]