I guess the problem I have with what you are doing here, Ambig, is the question of whether you are sure you want to do this by yourself.
True, brother: Komrad. But what good is it unless others witness it? It is the fantasy of others witnessing that drives us to do it in the first place. In fact, we start with a need to get laid. We haven’t the resources to be the players that others have. Therefore, we turn to our inner resources to put ourselves above those kind of people that have constant flow of sex.
Then imagine the disappointment we must feel when, not being players in the social world, we find we can’t even be players in the intellectual world. But even at that, give yourself a little more credit in that you have attracted some of the most virile trolls. Their opposition to you and me has always been a product of our willingness to look at the more subtle aspects of it.
It doesn’t make us right, brother,
komrad,
but it doesn’t make us wrong either.
(your circumstances are different than mine,
and I fully understand why you would want to avoid conflict.
(but there comes a time when reason fails and we have to engage in conflict.
That said, regardless of what I say,
Just make sure you are alright, my friend,
my komrad.
Anyway:
take care of yourself(
while I take care of me
(I mean it.
The war you fought may have been arbitrary and little more than the powers that be serving their own interests.
But the war we are facing has to do with us, the world, looking out for our interests.
And isn’t it about time we engage in a fight worth fighting for?
I have no problem with the notion of a class war.
Simply voting people in that have a “family resemblance” to our beliefs won’t do it.
In the end, we will have to do it for ourselves.
I no longer believe we can simply vote our problems away.
The only reason I want Obama back in is because he is less likely to kill us when we make our true demands as compared to the religious Romney.
Fuck Obama. This is a thread for for film.
We had our 60s, they had theirs.
One brother becomes a Communist, the other brother becomes a fascist. That can’t be good. The events take place around the time of the Cuban Missle Crisis. And no one didn’t take these things seriously back then.
Throw love and sex in and it makes for some combustible narratives. The personal, after all, is political.
The class struggle: one subjunctive narrative at a time.
Serving the Idea…but down here on the ground. And having been there once myself the overwhelming stench of futility putrifies what little is left all the more.
The human fucking condition.
Oh, and don’t forget to vote!
IMDb
The conversations with some fascists of the suburbs around Rome has inspired Daniele Luchetti for the lines of Luca Zingaretti’s character.
trailer:
youtube.com/watch?v=ybkj1KOoQ6I
MY BROTHER IS AN ONLY CHILD [Mio Fratello E Figlio Unico]
Written and directed by Daniele Luchetti
[b]Accio [praying out in the street in a downpour]: God, let me die of pneumonia, but convert Khrushchev, convert the Communists.
…
Bella: They call you “Accio”.
Accio: Because I would beat up everyone.
Mario [local trader]: There’s a fascist in you. You were a born fascist. A real thug.[/b]
A fascist is born first by coming into contact with another fascist.
[b]Accio [kicking his brother]: Is it true you’re a Communist?!
…
Accio [to Manrico]: What about Stalin and all his crimes!!
…
Manrico [dunking Accio’s head in a tub of water]: I’ll get those fucking fascist ideas out of your head!!
…
Accio [narrating]: Manrico was courageous, it came natural to him. Like making people fall in love. That day in the middle of all that racket looking at all those women, you knew they loved him, one especially.[/b]
Momma.
[b]Accio: Think a night in jail scared me? It’s an honor because I served the Idea.
…
Accio [beating up his sister’s boyfriend—as a favor to her]: A fascist in the family is always handy…like a doctor.
…
Accio: So it’s true, you’re burning my brother’s car.
Mario: It’s a demonstrative action, your brother’s a pain in the ass.
Accio: He’s a worker.
Mario: He’s no worker! Workers work their asses off, he’s a fanatic.
Accio: He’s still paying for it.[/b]
Accio tears up his MSI card.
[b]Accio: Intuition told me the things Bella taught me would come in handy even after the 60s.
…
Manrico [speaking at university occupation]: This concert is art and solidarity. Art by itself is masturbation, solidarity by itself is charity. Art, uprooted from the people, is a huge two-fisted jerk-off.
…
Manrico: I fight in the revolution and you guys tan.
…
Manrico: We’re all equals here, a guy stands up, has his say. If his idea’s good…
Accio: Everybody’s the same.
Manrico: Sure![/b]
Cut to a room filled with men all raucously arguing with each other about which ideas are “good”.
Accio: Why tell me all this? Do what you want with it. Make this revolution, finally. But do you really think the working class will follow you? Guys like Pop are the working class. Can you see Pop with a gun?
This is a film about what can become of you when for all practical purposes you become public property. And when your fate is in the hands of “a jury of your peers”.
In this day and age, once something becomes a commodty out of which others earn an income, they will do whatever it takes to keep it “controversial”.
As with The Stranger, Lindy was expected to act in accordance with what is “normal”.
The “court of public opinion” is the real scoundrel here. And those god-awful “experts” again. PBS aired a Frontline documentary recently regarding just how far removed these forensic “experts” can be from actual reality.
And remember this: It is through blind luck that the baby’s matinee jacket was found.
There was also more than just a speck of religious prejudice embedded in the narratives of some. The Chamberlains were Seventh Day Adventists. Believing in God has never been good enough for some. Not even in the same God. Instead, you must believe in the one God in the only way deemed worthy enough to keep you out of Hell.
IMDb
[b]Based on the real-life incident that occurred near Ayers Rock, Central Australia, on the night of August 17, 1980, when Lindy Chamberlain cried, “the dingo’s got my baby!”, after she discovered that her nearly ten-week-old baby, Azaria, had been taken by a dingo from their tent.
In June 2012 a coroner ruled that a dingo caused the death of Azaria Chamberlain. “The cause of her death was as the result of being attacked and taken by a dingo,” Elizabeth Morris, coroner for Northern Territory, announced to Darwin Magistrates court early Tuesday. “Dingos can and do cause harm to humans.”
Meryl Streep has never revealed publicly her opinion on whether or not Lindy Chamberlain was innocent.[/b]
Here is the wiki rendition:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_of_A … hamberlain
A CRY IN THE DARK [Evil Angels in Australia]
Directed by Fred Schepisi
[b]Greg: Whatever we find mate, there’s no joy for you. You know that don’t you?
Michael: I’ve seen what dingos do to lambs, mate.
…
Lindy: The Bible says, at the Second Coming, babies will be restored to their mothers’ arms.
…
Michael: We prayed for a Daughter. He gave us a daughter. Why would He take her away?
…
Cliff: Was that Michael’s brother?
Lindy: Can you believe it, the rumours are in New Zealand already!
Cliff: A lie goes ‘round the world while truth’s still putting its boots on’, sweetheart.
…
Michael [on video]: This morning when we saw the sharp, ripped, jagged marks on that very thickly woven blanket we knew that this was a powerful beast with very sharp teeth. It was more than a domestic dog that did this.
News producer: Okay, stop it there. It gets boring after this.
…
News producer [looking at a video of Ayers Rock]: And I want some good sci-fi music to go over this to give it some atmosphere.
Assistant: News as art, huh?
…
Public reaction: “They’ve blamed a dumb animal who can’t defend itself.”
…
Public reaction: “I can’t believe how the dingo can have taken the baby and it’s never been found.”
…
Public reaction: “It’s never happened before”
…
Public reaction: “That’s ten pounds. That’s what the baby weighed. Can’t tell me a dingo got halfway up the hill without taking a breather.”
…
Public reaction: “Azaria. I heard it means ‘sacrifice in the bloody wilderness’”. “You mean they took the kid up there to sacrifice it?” “Yeah, they probably did”. “The kid was always dressed in black and so was the mother”.
…
Michael [to Lindy]: Don’t you see? They’re using you to sell their lousy papers! People love this rubbish.
…
Lindy: What they’d already written was much worse. I just tried to correct them and give them the facts.
Michael [slapping the newspaper]: Look, will you listen to me. These people aren’t interested in facts!
…
Fox news type broadcaster: Hands up, all those who think she is guilty [he then encorages them to raise their hands] Come on!
…
Public reaction: “I understand they found a little white baby coffin in the house with an old Bible with a passage marked…”
…
Michael [to Lindy, as the news helicopters hover in all directions]: How can they? How can they, the bastards? Don’t they know how much we loved her?!! I don’t know what God wants anymore! How could He take her? I thought I knew the answer but I don’t. I don’t!..Hell can’t be worse than this!!
…
Lindy [to her lawyer]: It’s incredible! They must be cracked! Nobody’s going to believe that line of bull! Let me get this straight. In ten minutes, I’m supposed to have taken the baby back to the tent. Put her down. Put on my tracksuit pants, then carried her off to the car, cut her throat, cut her head off with nail scissors, mind you, stuffed her body in the camera bag – have you seen the size of that? – and I hurry up and clean up the blood out of the car and then picked up a can of beans because Aidian, who’s been here presumably, all the time watching, is too hungry. So I take him back to the tent and take off my tracksuit pants and sprinkle blood, my own baby’s blood, round the tent and on Reagan, and then…But when do I make the little dingo tracks outside the tent? Around that time I suppose. And then we have a happy race back to the barbecue as though nothing had happened.
Lawyer: That sounds preposterous, but that is the Crown’s case.
…
Michael: We should have zipped up the tent.
Lindy: You mean I should have zipped up the tent. Go on, have the guts to say it!
…
Lindy: Look, Mr. Barker. I wasn’t there. I can only go on the evidence of my own eyes. We’re talking about my baby daughter…not some object!
…
Lindy: I’m told, “Don’t talk like you normally talk. Watch how you hold your mouth. You look too sour and crabby. Don’t get angry. Don’t ask too many questions, or they think you’re trying to be smart. And never, never, never laugh or you’re an uncaring bitch.” Well, I can’t cry to order, and I won’t be squashed into some dumb act for the public…or for you.
…
Michael: I don’t think a lot of people realise how important innocence is to innocent people.[/b]
Naomi Klein, in the documentary (or I should say “recorded lecture”) describes at the end of it how progressive activists use to go into the Whitehouse and make their case to FDR. And always at the end of it, he would say:
Sounds great! Now go out and make me do it.
We piss and moan about what the powers that be are doing to us. But at some point, we need to look beyond our despair and ask ourselves how it is that we might be failing ourselves. We simply cannot take the lazy route we took with Obama and think that once we got him voted in, our work was done. We also have to make him do it. And that was my main point when I wrote:
Now I apologize for wandering off topic. But it seems to me that, on a board like this, OPs are little more than catalysts for a discourse that can wander anywhere. And that is how creativity works: it has to wander. And as long there are people who willing and reasonable enough to try to bring it back to the original point, I fail to see the harm in it. And it’s not like there is a lot of energy being created on these personal rants of yours outside of me, Moreno, and a few others who come to visit like faithful colleagues and students to an old professor who seems to be losing their bearings.
Once again, it feels to me like you are falling into the psychotic pitfall of the nihilistic perspective: isolating yourself into a kind of bubble with your own system of meaning that is such that it becomes useless to the general symbolic order.
But I get the impulse. I, myself, have been considering my own little strings that allow me to do what you are doing. And the old schoolers, like Nietzche, did as much before the internet. But even they tried to stay within the circles of their like. And why would we seek to be beautiful if we didn’t want to be noticed? Why would we do something “just for ourselves” while doing it in a public place?
But then, maybe it’s just me: my beer and Jager fueled Irish swagger. I love those moments when I’m able to go off to myself and do something a little more finished. But even those, being on here, are done to say: hey! Look what I’ve done. (I clearly have no problem with being narcissistic and vain.) It’s, ultimately, what I’m here for. But at the same time, for all the embarrassment I create for myself, I would far rather get my ass kicked by a troller and publicly disgraced than completely abandon the jam.
Anyway, back to the philosophical implications of movies:
Watched (having little time for movies lately) We Bought a Zoo. It was sentimental and full of idealism. But you grew to like the characters involved and got enjoyment out of it. And if you have daydreamed as much as I have, and had those fancies mowed over, you become an expert in the difference between fancy and reality. You soon learn the difference between how we want the world to be and how it actually is. But nothing about that experience depletes the value of fancy. As Coleridge points out: it’s alright to build castles in the sky as long as you eventually build foundations under them. Zizek points out that fantasy serves a valuable function in giving us some sense of where it is we want to go. It was still a good movie –or should I say: a movie that was worth watching to me –despite its lack of or oblique philosophical implications .
Sorry, Brother: Komrad: just meandering in your space.
And, oh yeah! Love ya, man!
Hope you know me well enough to know what that means.
Probably as close as some can imagine The Catcher In the Rye as a movie.
Admittedly, I have always been a sucker for cynical inconoclasts. Whatever their age. If they expose the “hypocrisies of our time”, that’s always heading in the right direction. Well short of the ironist, of course, but that film will never be made. At least not in my lifetime.
Igby does come from money. And he will always be in close proximity to it. So that makes it considerably less risky to dabble in more experimental frames of mind. But his charm is equally infectious. I liked him.
IGBY GOES DOWN
Written and directed by Burr Steers
[b]Igby [to the priest]: If Heaven is such a wonderful place then how was getting crucified such a big fucking sacrifice?
…
Mimi: You flunked everything. Not even a “D” in art this time.
…
Igby: Turtle. He was my best buddy. Then his rifle backfired and blew his face off. We all learned a valuable lesson about weapon maintenance that day.
Mimi: Why didn’t the school inform me?
Igby: It wasn’t the school’s fault. They were great about it, paid for the dry cleaning and everything. Not because they had to, but because it was the right thing to do.
…
Sargent: What exactly do you think you’re doing here soldier?
Igby: The Ritz-Carlton was full.
…
DH: Now, listen, the reason that Mimi…your mother, hasn’t been able to visit you…I’m sure she wanted to. She went to the hospital for a bit of a rest, and they discovered something else. Something rather bad. She’s getting treatment for it. Everybody’s damn confident she’ll be fine, but…You know what a mastectomy is?
Igby: Your house…It’s on the beach, right?
…
Mimi: [to Oliver, about Igby] His conception was an act of animosity, why shouldn’t his life be one as well?
…
Sookie: What kind of name is ‘Igby’?
Igby: The kind of name that someone named ‘Sookie’ is in no position to question.
…
Igby: Oliver is majoring in neo-fascism at Colombia.
Oliver: Economics.
Igby: Semantics.
…
Igby: I love the fact that the captain of the morality team invites his chick to the same party as his wife, who let’s face it, isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed anymore. And what’s more, none of their supposed mutual friends protects her. None of them bats a fucking eyelash at his hypocrisy. I love that, I really do. Embrace your moral hypocrisy, D.H., go for it.
…
Igby: So, you’re an artist? What kind of art?
Russell: What do you mean, “what kind of art”?
Igby: I mean do you paint, or what?
Russell: I got what you meant, but you obviously didn’t get what I meant. An artist creates art, regardless of what form the canvas takes.
Igby: So, what do you do? Paint?
Russell: I’m a performance artist.
Igby: So, you don’t paint.
…
Russell: Anne Frank, the soldiers are gone. Come out and play.
…
Sookie: Why aren’t you in school now?
Igby: Sheer ingenuity.
…
Sookie: You call your mother “Mimi”?
Igby: “Heinous One” is a bit cumbersome.
[Sookie nods]
Igby: And Medea was taken.
…
Igby: How many Vassar professors and intellectual theologians beget nymphomaniacal, pseudo-Bohemian JAPs?
Sookie: I am not a JAP.
…
Sookie: [to and about Ollie] You’re the fascist brother.
Igby: He prefers young Republican.
…
Oliver: So we started calling him Igby whenever he lied. And he lied a lot.
…
Oliver: What happened?
Igby: Breach of contract.
…
Sookie: You know what I think when I’m this close to another body? I think one day at one moment… this body that I’m holding in my arms will stop breathing… stop living. Just… stop. One day you’ll happen upon my name in the obits and you’ll remember this moment when we were so close.
Igby: You are a real fuckin’ upper.
…
Igby [staring into the mirror]: You see…I have this…I feel…this…great…pressure…coming down on me. It’s crushing me.
…
Igby: Sookie Sapperstein and the Young Republican…
…
Igby: I’m drowning in assholes.
…
Girl: Hello?
Igby [into intercom]: Lisa Fiedler?
Girl: Uh huh.
Igby: I know a girl from Baltimore.
Girl: So what?
Igby: I know a girl from Baltimore
Girl: What are you talking about?
Igby: I KNOW A GIRL FROM BALTIMORE!
Girl: So do I.
[the rest of the conversation is heard over the intercom]
Girl: Lisa, there’s some guy here for you but he keeps talking about…
Lisa: Who is it?
Girl: I don’t know. He keeps saying something about Baltimore.
Lisa: The drugs!
Girl: Oh, the drugs!
…
Igby [to Sookie]: I’m going to DC this weekend and kill my mother.
…
Igby: Why do you want me to be here, mother?
Mimi: Comic relief.
…
Mimi: Is that strawberry? I thought the idea was to stop me from vomiting up the poison.
…
Igby [on the phone] Hello, Mrs. Hathaway? This is Jason Slocumb, Jr. I’m afraid she can’t…because she’s dead.
Oliver: He’s always enjoyed being the bearer of bad tidings.
…
Igby: It’s ironic that the first time in my life that I feel remotely affectionate for her, is when she’s dead.
Oliver: You beat up her corpse.
Igby: I know, but after that.[/b]
For those grifters awash in cash there is left only the human heart to plunder. And for some you can never be too cold and calculated. Or cruel. But I don’t buy the ending here at all. It’s got Hollywood written all over it. Yet another morality play in which Virtue must prevail. Not that I don’t applaud it myself, of course.
In the interim, here are cynics able to act out their contempt for the rest of us.
But, come on, admit it: Who were you really rooting for?
Besides, they are just aristocrats pummeling each other. Like mobsters going to the matresses. We tend to forget all the others in the background. At best the poor [among others] are just props here.
But this film does contain one of the great lines of all time:
The Marquise de Merteuil: Like most intellectuals, he’s intensely stupid.
But you knew that was coming, right?
Is the Marquise de Merteuil a feminist in her day? Or, as with so many men of her time [and peerage], a dirty rotten scoundrel?
Win or die!
DANGEROUS LIAISONS
Directed by Stephen Frears
[b]Madame de Volanges: Monsieur le Vicomte de Valmont, my child whom you very probably don’t remember…except that he is conspicuously charming…never opens his mouth without first calculating what damage he can do.
Cecile: Then why do you receive him, maman?
Madame de Volanges: Everyone receives him.
…
Vicomte: To seduce a woman famous for strict morals…religious fervour and the happiness of her marriage…What could possibly be more prestigious?
Marquise de Merteuil: I think there’s something degrading about having a husband for a rival. It’s humiliating if you fail, and commonplace if you succeed.
Vicomte: You see, I have no intention of breaking down her prejudices. I want her to believe in God and virtue and the sanctity of marriage, and still not be able to stop herself. I want the excitement of watching her betray everything that’s is most important to her. Surely you understand that. I thought betrayal was your favorite word.
Marquise de Merteuil: No, no…“cruelty.” I always think that has a nobler ring to it.
…
Vicomte: How is Belleroche?
Marquise de Merteuil: I’m very pleased with him.
Vicomte: And is he your only lover?
Marquise de Merteuil:Yes.
Vicomte: I think you should take another. I think it most unhealthy, this exclusivity.
Marquise de Merteuil: You’re not jealous, are you?
Vicomte: Of course I am. Belleroche is completely undeserving.
Marquise de Merteuil: I thought he was one of your closest friends.
Vicomte: Exactly, so I know what I’m talking about. No, I think you should organise an infidelity. With me, for example.
Marquise de Merteuil: You refuse me a simple favour…then you expect to be indulged?
Vicomte: It’s only because it is so simple. lt wouldn’t feel like a conquest. I have to follow my destiny. I have to be true…to my profession.
…
Belleroche: Where have you been? Time has no logic when I’m not with you. An hour is like a century.
Marquise de Merteuil: I’ve told you before, we shall get on a great deal better if you make a concerted effort not to sound like the latest novel.
…
Marquise de Merteuil: Tell us what we should think of the opera.
Chevalier: Oh, it’s sublime, don’t you find?
Marquise de Merteuil: Monsieur Danceny is one of those rare eccentrics who come here to listen to the music.
…
Marquise de Merteuil: It’s not my place to tell you this, my dear…if I hadn’t become so fond of you…
Cecile: Go on, please.
Marquise de Merteuil: Your marriage has been arranged.
Cecile: Who is it?
Marquise de Merteuil: Oh, someone I know slightly. Monsieur le Comte de Bastide.
Cecile: What’s he like?
Marquise de Merteuil: Well…
Cecile: You don’t like him?
Marquise de Merteuil: Oh, it’s not that. He’s a man of somewhat erratic judgement. And rather serious.
Cecile: How old is he?
Marquise de Merteuil: Thirty-six.
Cecile: Thirty-six! He’s an old man.
…
Madame Marie de Tourvel: I’m beginning to think you may have planned the whole exercise.
Vicomte: I had no idea you were staying here! Not that it would have disturbed me in the slightest if I had known. You see, until I met you, I had only ever experienced desire. Love, never.
Madame Marie de Tourvel: That’s enough.
Vicomte: No, no, you made an accusation and you must allow me the opportunity to defend myself! Now, I’m not going to deny that I was aware of your beauty. But the point is, this has nothing to do with your beauty. As I got to know you, I began to realize that beauty was the least of your qualities. I became fascinated by your goodness. I was drawn in by it. I didn’t understand what was happening to me. And it was only when I began to feel actual, physical pain every time you left the room that it finally dawned on me: I was in love, for the first time in my life. I knew it was hopeless, but that didn’t matter to me. And it’s not that I want to have you. All I want is to deserve you. Tell me what to do. Show me how to behave. I’ll do anything you say.
Madame Marie de Tourvel: Very well, then. I would like you to leave this house.
Vicomte: I don’t see why that should be necessary.
Madame Marie de Tourvel: Let’s just say you’ve spent your whole life making it necessary. And if you refuse, I shall be forced to leave myself.
Vicomte: Well then, of course, whatever you say.
…
Marquise de Merteuil:I told Danceny you would act as his confidant and advisor. I need you to stiffen his resolve, if that’s the phrase. I thought if anyone could help him–
Vicomte: Help? He doesn’t need help, he needs hindrances. lf he has to climb over enough of them he might inadvertently fall on top of her. I take it he hasn’t been a great success.
Marquise de Merteuil: He’s been disastrous! Like most intellectuals, he’s intensely stupid.
…
Vicomte: I often wonder how you manage to invent yourself.
Marquise de Merteuil: Well, I had no choice, did I? I’m a woman. Women are obliged to be far more skillful than men. You can ruin our reputation and our life with a few well-chosen words. So, of course, I had to invent, not only myself, but ways of escape no one has every thought of before. And I’ve succeeded because I’ve always known I was born to dominate your sex and avenge my own.
Vicomte: Yes, but what I asked was how.
Marquise de Merteuil: When I came out into society I was 15. I already knew that the role I was condemned to, namely to keep quiet and do what I was told, gave me the perfect opportunity to listen and observe. Not to what people told me, which naturally was of no interest, but to whatever it was they were trying to hide. I practiced detachment. I learned how to look cheerful while under the table I stuck a fork into the back of my hand. I became a virtuoso of deceit. It wasn’t pleasure I was afer, it was knowledge. I consulted the strictest moralists to learn how to appear, philosophers to find out what to think, and novelists to see what I could get away with, and in the end, I distilled everything to one wonderfully simple principle: win or die.
…
Marquise de Merteuil [to Cecile]: You’ll find the shame is like the pain, you only feel it once.
…
Marquise de Merteuil [to Cecile]: When it comes to marriage, one man is as good as the next. And even the least accomodating is less trouble than a mother. And even the least accommodating is less trouble than a mother.
Cecile: Are you saying, I’m going to have to do that with three different men?!
Marquise de Merteuil: I am saying, you stupid little girl that provided you take a few elementary precautions you can do it, or not with as many men as you like…as often as you like…in as many different ways as you like. Our sex has few enough advantages, so make the best of those you have.
…
Vicomte: Surely I’ve explained to you before how much I enjoy watching the battle between love and virtue.
Marquise de Merteuil: What concerns me is that you seem to enjoy watching it much more than you used to enjoy winning it.
Vicomte: All in good time.
Marquise de Merteuil: The century is drawing to its close.
…
Vicomte: lsn’t it a pity that our agreement does not relate to the task you set me rather than the task I set myself?
Marquise de Merteuil: I am grateful, of course. But that would have been almost insultingly simple. One does not applaud the tenor for clearing his throat.
…
Vicomte [to Cecile in bed]: You asked me if Monsieur de Bastide would be pleased with your abilities. And the answer is education is never a waste. Now I think we might begin with one or two Latin terms.
…
Vicomte [in a letter to the Marquise de Merteuil]: We go for a walk together almost every day. A little further every time down the path that has no turning. She has accepted my love. I have accepted her friendship. We are both aware of how little there is to choose between them…I feel she is inches from surrender. Her eyes are closing.
…
Madame de Rosemonde: Do you still think men love the way we do? No…men enjoy the happiness they feel. We can only enjoy the happiness we give. They are not capable of devoting themselves exclusively to one person. So to hope to be made happy by love is a certain cause of grief.[/b]
How much has that really changed today? I suspect gender here is rooted more in biology than many are willing to accept.
[b]Vicomte: Why do you suppose we only feel compelled to chase the ones who run away?
Marquise de Merteuil: Immaturity?
…
Vicomte: It was, unprecedented. Really? It had a kind of charm that I don’t think I have experienced before. Once she’d surrendered, she behaved with perfect candour. Total mutual delirium. Which, for the first time ever with me, outlasted the pleasure itself. She was astonishing. So much so, that I ended by falling on my knees and pledging her eternal love. And do you know that at that time and for several hours afterwards I actually meant it.
Marquise de Merteuil: I see.
Vicomte: It’s extraordinary, isn’t it? ls it?
Marquise de Merteuil: lt sounds to me perfectly commonplace.
Vicomte: Oh, no…I assure you.
…
Vicomte: The day after our last meeting, I broke with Madame de Tourvel on the grounds that it was “beyond my control.”
Marquise de Merteuil: You didn’t!
Vicomte: I certainly did.
Marquise de Merteuil: But how wonderful of you.
Vicomte: You kept telling me my reputation was in danger but I think this may well turn out to be my most famous exploit. I believe that it sets a new standard. Only one thing could possibly bring me greater glory.
Marquise de Merteuil: What is that?
Vicomte: To win her back.
…
Marquise de Merteuil: Except you see, Vicomte, my victory wasn’t over her.
Vicomte: Of course it was, what do you mean?
Marquise de Merteuil: It was over you. You loved that woman, Vicomte. What’s more, you still do. Quite desperately. lf you had not been so ashamed of it how could you have treated her so viciously? You could not bear even the vague possibility of being laughed at. And this has proved something I have always suspected. That vanity and happiness are incompatible.
…
Vicomte: Whatever may or may not be the truth of these philosophical speculations, THE FACT REMAINS IT IS NOW YOUR TURN TO MAKE A SACRIFICE!
Marquise de Merteuil: ls that so?
Vicomte: Danceny must go.
Marquise de Merteuil: Where?
Vicomte: I have been more than patient with this little whim of yours. Enough is enough.
Marquise de Merteuil: One of the reasons that I never remarried despite a quite bewildering range of offers was the determination NEVER AGAIN TO BE ORDERED AROUND! I must therefore ask you to adopt a less martial tone of voice.
Vicomte: She is ill, you know. I have made her ill for your sake. So the least you can do is get rid of that colourless youth!
[he slaps her]
Marquise de Merteuil: Haven’t you had enough of bullying women for the time being?
…
Vicomte: Now, yes or no? It’s up to you, of course. I will merely confine myself to remarking that a “no” will be regarded as a declaration of war. A single word is all that’s required.
Marquise de Merteuil: All right. War.[/b]
Put your thinking cap away – in fact bury it – and just imagine having the balls to live like this.
Or the lobotomies.
It’s also great to look at. Very brown.
And you don’t have to speak Cockney. The DVD has subtitles. Though there might be more than just a few blokes who love this film but cannot read. Or count to ten.
This is a very funny movie…but don’t expect to laugh out loud.
LOCK STOCK AND TWO SMOKING BARRELS
Written and directed by Guy Ritchie
This is one fucked up dasein. But what does that mean regarding someone who may or may not have done what we may or may not believe he has done? And you can’t help but wonder: Is the psychotic more or less dangerous than the sociopath? And then there’s the question of cause and effect. How does this rapacious, narcissistic environment contribute to the rapacious, narcissistic frame of mind? Or is this only the inevitable trajectory of a world increasingly given over to nihilism?
Maybe mostly satirical?
The film explores the idea of identity by grappling with the manner in which individuals try to configure “I” and “we” into a workable [or least dysfunctional] relationship. Bateman takes this to the extreme. Or he recognizes just how absurdly calculated it can be. “I” is repressed to the point it virtually disappears. And then reappears psychotically.
As for gender, is this misogynist? I would think so. And virtually every female character on the screen is pretty much an airhead.
And the only black dude with a speaking part is a hapless bum. So, naturally, Patrick kills him. And his dog.
Among those who almost became Patrick Bateman: Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt, Edward Norton, Leonardo DiCaprio, Ewan McGregor.
IMDb
[b]The events that Bateman mentions in the phone message to his lawyer are events that transpired in the book by Bret Easton Ellis, but not in the film.
Looking for a way to create the character of Patrick Bateman, Christian Bale stumbled onto a Tom Cruise appearance on David Letterman. According to American Psycho director Mary Harron, Bale saw in Cruise “this very intense friendliness with nothing behind the eyes” and Bale subsequently based the character of Bateman on that.
When Leonardo DiCaprio was still attached to the project, feminist activist Gloria Steinem lobbied him not to make the film, as his fan base consisted predominately of young teenage girls, and he could ruin his career. Steinem had spoken out about the novel several times and was against the film version in any incarnation. Her involvement is rendered especially interesting insofar as she would soon become Christian Bale’s stepmother.
The film had various problems with designer labels during production. Cerruti agreed to allow Christian Bale to wear their clothes, but not when the character was killing anyone; Rolex agreed that anyone in the film could wear their watches except Bateman (hence the famous line from the book “Don’t touch the Rolex” had to be changed to “Don’t touch the watch”); Perry Ellis provided underwear at the last minute after Calvin Klein pulled out of the project; Comme des Garçons refused to allow one of their overnight bags to be used to carry a corpse, so Jean Paul Gaultier was used instead.[/b]
AMERICAN PSYCHO
Directed by Mary Harron
[b]David: They don’t have a good bathroom to do coke in.
Craig: Are you sure that’s Paul Allen over there?
Timothy: Yes. McDufus, I am.
Craig: He’s handling the Fisher account.
Timothy: Lucky bastard.
Craig: Lucky Jew bastard.
Patrick: Jesus, McDermott, what does that have to do with anything?
Craig: I’ve seen that bastard sitting in his office, talking on the phone to the CEOs, spinning a fucking menorah.
Patrick: Not a menorah. You spin a dreidel.
Craig: Oh, my God. Bateman, do you want me to fry you up some fucking potato pancakes? Some latkes?
Patrick: No. Just cool it with the anti-Semitic remarks.
Craig: Oh, I forgot. Bateman’s dating someone from the ACLU.
Timothy: The voice of reason… the boy next door.
[looks at restaurant bill]
Timothy: Speaking of reasonable, only $570…
…
Patrick [voice-over]: I live in the American Gardens Building on W. 81st Street on the 11th floor. My name is Patrick Bateman. I’m 27 years old. I believe in taking care of myself and a balanced diet and rigorous exercise routine. In the morning if my face is a little puffy I’ll put on an ice pack while doing stomach crunches. I can do 1000 now. After I remove the ice pack I use a deep pore cleanser lotion. In the shower I use a water activated gel cleanser, then a honey almond body scrub, and on the face an exfoliating gel scrub. Then I apply an herb-mint facial mask which I leave on for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an after shave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion.
…
Patrick [voice-over]: There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable… I simply am not there.
…
Patrick: [voice-over] I’m on the verge of tears by the time we arrive at Espace, since I’m positive we won’t have a decent table. But we do, and relief washes over me in an awesome wave.
…
Patrick: Come on, Bryce. There are a lot more important problems than Sri Lanka to worry about.
Timothy: Like what?
Patrick: Well, we have to end apartheid for one. And slow down the nuclear arms race, stop terrorism and world hunger. We have to provide food and shelter for the homeless, and oppose racial discrimination and promote civil rights, while also promoting equal rights for women. We have to encourage a return to traditional moral values. Most importantly, we have to promote general social concern and less materialism in young people.
Luis: [feigning tears] Patrick. How thought-provoking.
…
Patrick: New card. What do you think?
Craig: Whoa-ho. Very nice. Look at that.
Patrick: Picked them up from the printer’s yesterday.
David: Good coloring.
Patrick: That’s bone. And the lettering is something called Silian Rail.
David: It’s very cool, Bateman, but that’s nothing. Look at this.
Timothy: That is really nice.
David: Eggshell with Romalian type. What do you think?
Patrick: Nice.
Timothy: Jesus. That is really super. How’d a nitwit like you get so tasteful?
Patrick: [thinking] I can’t believe that Bryce prefers Van Patten’s card to mine.
Timothy: But wait. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet. Raised lettering, pale nimbus. White.
Patrick: Impressive. Very nice.
David: Hmm.
Patrick: Let’s see Paul Allen’s card.
Patrick: [Thinking] Look at that subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness of it. Oh, my God. It even has a watermark.
Luis: Is something wrong, Patrick? You’re sweating.
…
Patrick [voice-over]: I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don’t know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.
…
Patrick [voice-over] There is a moment of sheer panic when I realize that Paul’s apartment overlooks the park…and is obviously more expensive than mine.
…
Patrick: Do you like Phil Collins? I’ve been a big Genesis fan ever since the release of their 1980 album, Duke. Before that, I really didn’t understand any of their work. Too artsy, too intellectual. It was on Duke where Phil Collins’ presence became more apparent. I think Invisible Touch was the group’s undisputed masterpiece. It’s an epic meditation on intangibility. At the same time, it deepens and enriches the meaning of the preceding three albums…Listen to the brilliant ensemble playing of Banks, Collins and Rutherford. You can practically hear every nuance of every instrument…In terms of lyrical craftsmanship, the sheer songwriting, this album hits a new peak of professionalism…Take the lyrics to Land of Confusion. In this song, Phil Collins addresses the problems of abusive political authority. In Too Deep is the most moving pop song of the 1980s, about monogamy and commitment. The song is extremely uplifting. Their lyrics are as positive and affirmative as anything I’ve heard in rock…Phil Collins’ solo career seems to be more commercial and therefore more satisfying, in a narrower way. Especially songs like In the Air Tonight and Against All Odds…But I also think Phil Collins works best within the confines of the group, than as a solo artist, and I stress the word artist. This is Sussudio, a great, great song, a personal favorite.
…
Patrick: Do you know what Ed Gein said about women?
David: Ed Gein? The maitre 'd at Canal Bar?
Patrick: No, serial killer, Wisconsin, the '50s.
Craig: So what did he say?
Patrick: “When I see a pretty girl walking down the street, I think two things. One part wants me to take her out, talk to her, be real nice and sweet and treat her right.”
David: And what did the other part think?
Patrick: "What her head would look like on a stick… "
…
Patrick: I have to return some videotapes.
…
Patrick: Ask me a question.
Club Patron: So, what do you do?
Patrick: I’m into, uh, well, murders and executions, mostly.
Club Patron: Do you like it?
Patrick: Well, it depends. Why?
Club Patron: Well, most guys I know who are in Mergers and Acquisitions really don’t like it.
…
Jean: I wouldn’t want you to lose your willpower.
Patrick: That’s okay. I’m not very good at controlling it anyway.
…
Patrick: Did you know that Ted Bundy’s first dog, a collie, was named Lassie?
Jean: Who’s Ted Bundy?
…
Patrick: I’m fucking serious. It’s fucking over, us, this is no joke. I don’t think we should see each other any more.
Evelyn: But your friends are my friends and my friends are your friends. I really don’t think it would work. You have a little something…
Patrick: I know that your friends are my friends and, uh…I’ve thought about that. You can have 'em.
…
Patrick [on phone]: Harold, it’s Bateman, Patrick Bateman. You’re my lawyer so I think you should know: I’ve killed a lot of people. Some girls in the apartment uptown uh, some homeless people maybe 5 or 10 um an NYU girl I met in Central Park. I left her in a parking lot behind some donut shop. I killed Bethany, my old girlfriend, with a nail gun, and some man uh some old faggot with a dog last week. I killed another girl with a chainsaw, I had to, she almost got away and uh someone else there I can’t remember maybe a model, but she’s dead too. And Paul Allen. I killed Paul Allen with an axe in the face, his body is dissolving in a bathtub in Hell’s Kitchen. I don’t want to leave anything out here. I guess I’ve killed maybe 20 people, maybe 40. I have tapes of a lot of it, uh some of the girls have seen the tapes. I even, um…I ate some of their brains, and I tried to cook a little. Tonight I, uh, I just had to kill a LOT of people. And I’m not sure I’m gonna get away with it this time. I guess I’ll uh, I mean, ah, I guess I’m a pretty uh, I mean I guess I’m a pretty sick guy. So, if you get back tomorrow, I may show up at Harry’s Bar, so you know, keep your eyes open.
…
Patrick [voice-over]: There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it I have now surpassed. My pain is constant and sharp, and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape. But even after admitting this, there is no catharsis; my punishment continues to elude me, and I gain no deeper knowledge of myself. No new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. This confession has meant nothing.[/b]
One stupid fucking mistake and then…out of the blue…everything changes. In this case the mistake involves brain damage. “I” becomes warped and then wrapped around learning lots of different things all over again. So instead of being a bright young man with a promising future he now works as a janitor in a bank.
The trouble starts here: the part of the brain that still yearns for the bright future functions just like before. But it dreams about the things it can no longer do.
And then he meets Gary. But not by accident. Still, so much here revolves around timing.
Then ask yourself: What would you do? And then consult with the objectivists here to see just how far removed that is from what you ought to do.
The ending [sadly] is pretty pat. Not at all the way I would have done it. The part about the money, for example. Just try to imagine Memento ending like this.
trailer:
youtube.com/watch?v=sTmA_9I3hF8
IMDb
[b]To be more convincing as a blind man, Jeff Daniels spent time at the Michigan Commission for the Blind Training Center in Kalamazoo, observing and learning some basic skills used by blind people on a daily basis.
To help him play a brain damaged man, Joseph Gordon-Levitt did not get much sleep and worked out hard at the gym before shooting to help him appear disoriented. He also befriended people with brain damage and read “The Man with a Shattered World: The History of a Brain Wound”.[/b]
THE LOOKOUT
Written and directed by Scott Frank
[b]Chris: I think about fucking you all the time.
Therapist: You think that is something you would have said before your injury?
Chris: So now you’re gonna bring up the frontal lobe bullshit?
Therapist: Disinhibition. That might be getting in the way of your meeting someone. I’ve got the feeling that walking up to a stranger for sex isn’t the best way to start a relationship.
…
Lewis: Your sequence works fine. You just got to start at the end and work backwards. Write that down.
…
Mr Tuttle [the bank manager]: Chris, I want you to write down “bank extra clean” in your little notebook.
…
Gary: Anybody die?
Chris: Yeah. Two friends.
…
Lewis: [after Chris racks a shotgun] Oh, there’s a comforting sound.
…
Father: Would you rather me let you win?
Chris: Dad, I can’t play chess anymore.
…
Lewis: Can I tell you something? You won’t get upset?
Chris: What?
Lewis: I don’t think you should go home anymore.
…
Chris: You wanna steal from farmers?
Gary: No, Chris. I’m gonna steal from the corporate fuckers who rape the farmers. Agribusiness fatcats who give the American farmer enough to grow his crop but not really enough to live on. Fucking tragedy is what it is.[/b]
Imagine your reaction to this guy if that was his motive.
[b]Gary: My old man used to say to me, probably the only thing we ever really agreed on, that whoever has the money has the power. You might wanna jot that down in your book. It’s something you’re gonna need to remember.
…
Lewis: [to Luvlee] Please tell me you’re not waving your hand in front of my face.
…
Lewis [explaining how he went blind]: When I was about your age, me and some friends decided to make some money by opening up a meth lab.
Luvlee: Oh! Did you blow yourself up?
Lewis: Does it look like I blew myself up?
…
Lewis: No, the Luvlee Lemons of this world do not end up with Chris Pratt.
Luvlee: Thank you. Asshole.
Lewis: Sad but true. But that brings me back to that original question, Luvlee. So tonight, in the dark, I’m gonna help you out and ask it again: What are you doing here?
…
Chris: Just because of the fucking fireflies. I only wanted to show her. I wanted to see her face.
…
Chris Pratt: I started skating again. I’m not as good as I used to be, but I’m okay. What happened that night along Route 24 is a part of me now. I just hope that one day Kelly will be ready to see me again and I can finally tell her what I’ve only been able to say in my dreams. Until then, all I can do is wake up, take a shower, with soap, and try to forgive myself. If I can do that, then maybe others will forgive me too. I don’t know if that will happen, but I guess I’ll just have to work backwards from there.[/b]
This is all Chad here. Whether in the company of men or women he is nothing short of a despicable, narcissistic scumbag. But sure: especially in the company of women.
Howard is more pathethic than anything. He stumbles into something Chad cooks up and he is soon in over his head. For one thing he doesn’t look like Aaron Eckhart. And he is only playing at being a scumbag.
And be careful what you wish for if you do get it. It can turn out to be anything but what you had planned for it to be.
IMDb
[b]According to writer-director Neil LaBute, his script began with the line “Let’s hurt somebody” and developed from there.
Premiere voted this movie as one of “The 25 Most Dangerous Movies”.
midnightcafe.wordpress.com/2007/ … us-movies/[/b]
I have bumped into this list a number of times. But I tend to agree with midnightcafe:
“They don’t do much to explain that except to mean more than just controversial, but controversial and important, or meaningful, or movies that make you think. Whatever that means.”
IN THE COMPANY OF MEN
Written and directed by Neil LaBute
Chad: I got a crop of these young dudes after my desk. Taking jobs as production assistants. The title didn’t exist two years ago. Just to hang out in the coffee room. Vultures waiting for me to tire out. I get low numbers two months in a row? They’re gonna feed on my insides.
The corporate “climate”. It can breed tidal waves of anxiety. So of course you are going to take it out on others. Thus:
[b]Chad: And it comes to me…the truth. I do not give a shit, not about anybody. A family member, a job, none of it. I couldn’t care less.
…
Chad: You know, if we were living in India you could have burned your fiancée on a pyre in the village square for even hinting at what she did to you, to this day.
…
Chad: Say we were to find some gal. This person’s vulnerable as hell. You know, young thing, wallflower type or whatever. Disfigured in some way. Some woman who is pretty sure that life…and I mean a full, healthy sexual life, romance, stuff like that…is lost to her forever. We take a girl of that type…some corn-fed bitch who’d mess her pants if you sharpen a pencil for her… and we both hit her. Small talk, a dinner date, flowers. No pushing it the first night out, but it’s like taking her out, you know, to see an ice show. Something like that. We just do it, you and me, upping the ante all the time. Suddenly, she’s got two men. She’s calling her mom. She’s wearing makeup again. On we play, and on and on. Then one day out goes the rug and us pulling it hard, and Jill…she just comes tumbling after…Hour later, we’re on a flight back to civilization like nothing ever happened. Trust me. She’ll be reaching for the sleeping pills within a week and we will laugh about this till we are very old men.
…
Chad: No matter what happens after it - jumped over for promotions, wife runs off with some biochemist, who knows what…But we would always have this thing to fall back on. We could always say, “Yeah, fine, but they never got me like we got her.”
…
Chad: Let’s hurt somebody.
…
Chad: Never trust anything that can bleed for a week and not die.
…
Chad: She speak at all?
John: I’ve never heard her. I think she’s got one of those voices. You know, like…
Chad: Like a dolphin. Like having a Sunday chat with Flipper.
…
Chad [telling Howard about Christine who is deaf]: …you should see her going at it…working to put the simplest sounds together. A, E, I, O, U and sometimes Y is like the Holy Grail to this poor wretch. After about 15 minutes I can’t watch any more saliva form in the corner of her mouth or I’m gonna lose my taco salad.
Howard: But was she nice? I mean…
Chad: Nice? Yeah. Sweet, giving, all those things.
Howard: That’s good.
Chad: One of the kindest people I’ve ever had spray spit in my face.
…
Chad: What’s the difference between a golf ball and a G-spot?
Howard: I don’t know.
Chad: I’ll spend twenty minutes looking for a golf ball!
…
Howard: I get so used to saying what people want to hear I forget sometimes they might just want the truth.
…
Christine: Just remember, I can’t hear you when you’re lying.
…
Chad [with Christine at lunch]: You got time to sit?
Howard [looking at Christine]: No, I can’t. I gotta get upstairs. Lot of reports due. End of the month, you know.[/b]
Chad and Keith:
[b]Chad: I’ll wonder to myself, “He got the balls for this?” Right? I can’t help but think it.
Keith: I do.
Chad: Yeah?
Keith: Yes. Ax anybody.
Chad: Let me give you a professional tip. The word is “ask.”
…
Chad: Show. Me. Your. Balls.
Keith: I don’t…
Chad: Listen. You got a pair the kind that men carry around, you wear them on your sleeve. That’s what business is about: Who’s sporting the nastiest sack of venom and who is willing to use it.
…
Howard [finally confessing the truth]: We did.
Christine: What?
Howard: We did know.
Christine: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Howard: You went out with me, dated me, had fun with me but you went to bed with him. Don’t say anything. I can tell. I’m sitting here, some asshole who cares about you and you’re in love with him. Are you so desperate… you can’t see a yard in front of you? Chad? He doesn’t like you. He loathes you. He detests you and your pathetic retard voice. That’s what he calls it. Christine, you bought that shit? See each other at parties? He’s my friend, okay? We hang out back home. You better wake up. You were used. It’s a game. To Chad, it was a game, and he found you “so perfect,” he said. “She’s deaf.” That was the thing. Not love you. Not flowers and the feelings I have for you inside. No, it was meant to be a sport fun to watch you fall apart. I’m telling you…
Christine: Stop it!
Howard: Christine, l…We did this thing, and I am so sorry…but I can’t change it because it’s true.
Christine: No! Chad would never do that!
Howard: Why are you trusting him?! Look at me. What did I ever do to you? Kindness, courtesy. What is the matter with you? Can’t you see I’m the good guy? I’m the good person here. I can’t alter what we’ve done, and I’m a fuck and a bastard and everything else on your list, but I’m here. I’m here, and I’m telling you…I love you.
…
Howard: Look at you! You are fucking handicapped! You think you can choose? Men falling at your feet?[/b]
Like I said: Pathetic. Really, really pathetic. The ending for example.
[b]Chad [to Christine]: I was gonna let you down easy, but I can’t keep a straight face…so fuck it. [he burst out laughing] Surprise. So how does it feel? I mean right now. This instant. How do you feel inside, knowing what you know? Tell me.
[she slaps him]
Chad: That’s all? It only hurts that much? Well, I guess I can go now.
…
Chad: I did it short. Over in a second. Left her sobbing in the hotel room. Then I walked over to Pizza Hut. It was your hotel room actually.
Howard: What?
Chad: See, I knew you’d be late wrapping stuff up, so I took the liberty. I got a maid to open up, and l…Well, I did the same thing when I first fucked her. I thought that you might find her there, so…
Howard: Chad.
Chad: What?
Howard: I’m trying to tell you I’m in love with her. Jesus Christ!
Chad: Oh…[/b]
As with And the Band Played On this film explores the lives of men and women at the very dawn of “the age of AIDS”. This time in France. But this time the focus is more intimate.
One thing for sure: Gay or straight, in love or in lust, people are people are people. In other words: Human all too human.
And things like this make no distinction between the “guilty” and the “innocent”.
Life would be rather simple if it weren’t so damned hard [and complex]. Cruising, for example.
The newcomer arrives. He is loved. He gets sick. He dies. People grieve. They go on with their lives: “He was basking in the glow of a new relationship…”
One cliche I suppose is as good as any other.
wiki
[b]Interviewed about The Witnesses André Téchiné commented: "I think it’s important to consider the issues in the film beyond the framework of heterosexuals vs homosexuals. I don’t know if Mehdi’s affair with Manu is his first or last gay experience; I don’t know if he’s been with other guys or might so in the future. I show my characters at a certain moment in their lives, which reveals certain aspects of them, but it is the tip of the iceberg. The rest, even if we get glimpses of it in the film, is left to the imagination of each person in the audience.
Jan Stuart of Newsday wrote, “André Techiné’s The Witnesses is one of the finest fiction-film accounts of a free yet frightful moment in time, when the relaxing sexual liberties of the previous decade were being squeezed by the onset of an unforgiving new virus.”
In The New York Times Stephen Holden warned viewers that “The Witnesses may frustrate those who prefer movies that tell clear-cut stories in which hard lessons are learned. But in the director’s farsighted vision of life, the ground under our feet is always shifting. As time pulls us forward, the shocks of the past are absorbed and the pain recedes. In its light-handed way, The Witnesses is profound.”[/b]
trailer:
youtube.com/watch?v=OIIITKFk_mk
Look for Monsieur Hire.
THE WITNESSES
Written and directed by André Téchiné
[b]Adrien: You’re legal?
Manu: And had my jabs. You a cop? Wanna see my ID?
Adrien: Do I look like a cop?
Manu: A bit. Why all the questions?
Adrien: I’m just interested.
Manu: How old are you?
Adrien: As the song says, I’m two times 18.
Manu: Don’t you mean 3 times?
Adrien: I’m sick of cracks like that. That’s real segregation for you! Fags accept all classes, races or religions. A great melting pot. The only taboo is age.
…
Mehdi: Maybe we could decide to be faithful. Like a regular couple, okay?
Sarah: No, I love you too much for that. I need affairs. I’m happy that way. Or else I feel imprisoned. Especially with a womanizer like you.
Mehdi: And my affairs? You don’t care?
Sarah: I know you play the field. It doesn’t bother me. In fact, it turns me on.[/b]
Well, she doesn’t know the half of it. Or does she? Turns out she knows the whole of it. Her half of it anyway.
[b]Adrien: I can’t play the spurned lover over a guy who isn’t even my lover. Masochism has its limits.
…
Manu: I feel no remorse. Even if it hurts you.
Adrien: You hold all the cards. Everybody wants you.[/b]
Gay or straight this never changes. Then Adrien [who is a doctor] spots the splotches on Manu’s skin. We know what they are. And we know what they mean: Everything changes.
[b]Manu [watching newscast]: “A mysterious disease has appeared in the West causing panic across the United States. The virus destroys the body’s immune system and is fatal in 3 cases out of 4.”
…
Mehdi: I called you everyday. I thought you had met someone else.
Manu: I didn’t want you to see me like this.
Mehdi: Look, I’m your friend, aren’t I?
Manu: What’s that supposed to mean? What can we do together now? You want me?
[he sheds the towel and lays down naked on the bed]
Manu: Go ahead!
Mehdi: I’ll put your laundry in the machine.
Manu: It’s caked with shit!
…
Manu: Don’t come back, Mehdi. It hurts too much.
…
Adrien: You married Sarah for her money. You sleep with guys and despise fags. That’s your life…deceiving your wife and friends!..You’re a predator.
Mehdi: A liar, a predator. Typical of my race, huh?
Adrien: Bullshit!
Mehdi: I wasn’t born with flowers up my ass.
Adrien: Please! You’re breaking my heart.
…
Adrien: So why did you have to see me so urgently?
Mehdi: Can’t you guess? Dr Ethical doesn’t inform his patients’ lovers?
Afrien: It’s not up to me. The patient’s file is confidential. I can’t force him to tell anyone.
Mehdi: Is that so?
Adrien: I abide by the law, too, see?
…
Mehdi: I want to take a blood test. I don’t trust hospital and laboratories.
Adrien: It’s anonymous. You’ve nothing to fear.
Mehdi: I know. But I want you to do it.
…
Manu: I wasn’t made to die like this. I never got ill. Even after fights at school the bruises would just vanish.
…
Sandra [a prostitute]: All they want is to catch our men. Didn’t Manu tell you?
Adrien: He told me about you.
Sandra: So, you called me in.
Adrien: To save your skins! This is life or death. You don’t seem to realize.
…
Adrien: You know there’s a new police unit to clear out gay cruising areas?
Mehdi [who is a detective]: That’s old news.
Adrien: Sure, but now the police are threatening bars. They want to shut down the backrooms.
Mehdi: It’ll blow over.
Adrien: Thanks, I feel much better.
…
Sarah: How is Manu?
Adrien: Retinal Toxoplasmosis. He records his life-story on my tape machine. And he’s become agressive. Cruel even. It’s a good sign.
…
Mehdi: You’ve got what you wanted. He’s in your hands and no one can take him from you.
Adrien: What? I treat him. I care for him.
Mehdi: You’re a spider making out you’re a saint.
Adrien: You’re on form.
Mehdi: You use a dying kid to feel good about yourself! Sarah thinks you’re wonderful. An activist! You’re becoming a hero! Well done! Death turns you on because life scares you.
Adrien: I remember when it scared you. Shitting your pants over your test.
Mehdi: I was scared of losing my life. You don’t have one.
Adrien: So fucking around is a life? That’s pathetic. Manu won’t see you because sex is all you had. Don’t look at me like that, it’s all you had. So he prefers you to keep that image of him.
…
Adrien: Are you sure about this?
Manu: Yes, I want it. I brought some condoms but I can’t get a hard-on.
Adrien: So there’s no point being here. Let’s go.
Manu: Even if there’s no point. I have to do it.
…
Sarah [narrating]: Adrien didn’t want to read my book and have Manu resurface. The time wasn’t right. He was basking in the glow of a new relationship. Human beings have no fixed age. In a few seconds, they can become many years younger. Adrien was floating in a river that rose and sank oscillating between one period and another.[/b]
I suspect that, compared to most folks, these guys have really glamourous jobs. But it is clearly less unglamourous for one than for the other. And while he doesn’t exactly have a “day job” he is light years away from doing what he wants. Torn, as it were. Or, perhaps, as Susie suggested, just a coward.
Played by “real life” brothers. One construed to be " a hunk" and the other not. And that makes all the fucking difference in the world out in Hollywood.
This is also about what most of us are forced to endure “on the job” once we accummulate responsibilities—spouses, children and bills.
Here, you want to read some philosophy? Try this:
l want to explain something to you, little brother. There are people in this world who depend on me. l got a wife and kids who expect to wake up with food on the table and heat in the house. l got a mortgage. l got car payments. And l got you, my little brother Jack. He’s so hip, so cool and sure that he’s better than everyone. Don’t you think l’d like to walk up to one of those assholes and blow smoke in his face? God damn right l would! But l can’t. l have to be responsible. l have to make the numbers balance in my favor every month so everyone else can go on living their lives!
IMDb
[b]Madonna was originally approached for the role that went to Michelle Pfeiffer. Madonna turned it down because the plot was “too mushy”…Debra Winger was offered the female lead, but turned it down…Brooke Shields turned down the role of Susie…Jodie Foster and Jennifer Jason Leigh were in talks to play Susie.
When this film first went into development in 1986, 20th Century Fox wanted Bill Murray and Chevy Chase to star.
Although Dave Grusin recorded the songs for the movie soundtrack, Beau Bridges and Jeff Bridges both learned to play all the songs in the film. To make their playing appear realistic, the actors watched videotapes of Grusin’s hands playing the music.[/b]
Look for Jennifer Tilly. She’s fabulous here too.
THE FABULOUS BAKER BOYS
Written and directed by Steve Kloves
[b]Jack: l have to go.
Girl: Why?
Jack: A job.
Girl: Funny hours.
Jack: Funny job.
Girl: Will l see you again?
Jack: No.
…
Jack: ‘‘Be the envy of your friends with Miracle Hair’’? This is paint, Frank.
Frank: No, it’s a magical sheath that simulates a dazzling head of hair.
Jack: Frank, this is paint!
Frank: Just help me put it on. You’re supposed to spray in a circular motion.
…
Frank: Good evening and welcome to the Starfire Lounge. My name is Frank Baker. And 88 keys across from me is my little brother, Jack. My brother and l have been playing together for how long, Jack?
Jack: Thirty one years.
Frank: That’s a lot of water under the bridge, huh, Jack?
Jack: A lot of water.
Frank: Of course, things were different then. l was 11, Jack was 7. The only one who’d listen to us was the family cat, Cecil. We must have shaved 3 lives off that cat, huh, Jack? But seriously, it’s been 15 years since Jack and l stepped on stage as professionals. But though we’ve played some of the finest venues in the world, there’s always been a very special place for us. That place is this place. The Starfire Lounge. Why? l guess you could just say… the people.
…
Lloyd: Terrific, boys, really terrific. Yes, sir! You’re just what we needed on a night like this.
Frank: Thanks, Lloyd.
Lloyd: Only Jack, do me a favor will you, pal? lf you want to smoke on stage, put on a pair of sunglasses and go play with the niggers on State Street.
…
Jack: Count it.
Frank: Jack.
Jack: Count the fucking money, Frank.
…
Jack [throwing Frank a can]: Hey, don’t forget your hair.
…
Frank: What is this?
Charlie: Your pay.
Frank: What about tomorrow night?
Charlie: lt’s all there. Both nights.
Frank: What are you saying, Charlie?
Charlie: You and Jack have been working here a long time.
Frank: 12 years.
Charlie: Maybe it’s time we took a vacation from one another.
Frank: Vacation? Come on, it’s Monday night! You said so yourself. l got the pianos for two nights.
Charlie: lt wasn’t even half full out there tonight. l have six waiters in the back listening to basketball. l gotta move the liquor. So, l have to fill the tables. lt’s a matter of economics. l love you guys. You’re class. But people today…they don’t know class if it walks up and grabs them by the balls.
…
Frank: Thank you, Miss Moran, that’s enough. Miss Moran… Miss Moran!
[shouts]
Frank: Blanche!
Blanche/Monica: Sorry! I get so caught up in it sometimes, it’s scary.
Frank: Yes, it is.
…
Frank: 37 girls and not one who can carry a tune.
Jack: There was a certain surreal quality to it.[/b]
Enter Susie Diamond…
[b]Susie [literally stumbling through the door]: God damn it! Shit! This shoe.
[walks over to Frank]
Susie: ls this where the auditions are?
Frank: Where the auditions were. We’re finished.
Susie: What about me?
Frank: You’re an hour and a half late.
Susie: l had trouble catching a cab.
Frank: Punctuality, first rule of show business.
Susie: This is show business?
…
Susie: l come down here, break a heel and you won’t give me a chance because l’m a little late!
Frank: You’re an hour and a half late. Want me to say it again?
Susie: Well, it’s not exactly bewitching me. Besides, you’re not going anywhere.
Frank: l beg your pardon?
Susie: lntuition. l had a hunch about this all day. Only, in my mind, it was a little more glamorous…So, where’s the winner?
…
Frank: Do you have any previous experience as a singer?
Susie: No.
Frank: Any entertainment experience at all?
Susie: Well, for the last couple of years l’ve been on call for Triple A Escort Service.
…
Frank: You hit me!
Jack: I told you I was gonna hit you.
…
Frank: I’m sorry. I’m a bit wound up.
Jack: Frank, you’re a fucking alarm clock!
…
Susie: Guest vocalist? Who’s next week, Beverly Sills? How come you guys are the only ones with your picture on the poster?
Frank: We’ll talk later. Where’s your dress?
Susie: What are you talking about?
Frank: ls there a language problem? Where’s your dress for tonight?
Susie: What, do l look like l’m naked?
Frank: What, that? What are you, insane? Are you going trick or treating?
Susie: He doesn’t like my dress, right?
…
Frank: She says ‘‘fucking’’ in front of an entire room of people.
Susie: l apologized.
Frank: Did you hear her?
Jack: Fucking.
Susie: They were on their third Mai Tai by the time l got out there.
Frank: Fucking.
Susie: For Christ’s sake, l said it, l didn’t do it. ’
…
Jack: Should have brushed, pal.
…
Susie [to Jack]: Listen, you’re not going soft on me, are you? I mean, you’re not going to start dreaming about me and waking up all sweaty and looking at me like I’m some sort of princess when I burp?
Jack: Forget it.
Susie: lt would be too creepy, with us working together.
Jack: Better hurry, you’re a nickel down on your cigarette.
…
Frank: You know, I think it’s been years since l’ve seen you without a cigarette. The whole room upstairs smells like an ashtray. You know that? The sheets, the carpets, the drapes. The towels, my tux, my shirt. Want to smell my shirt?
Jack: Maybe later.
Frank: l’m not kidding. Do you know what an insidious habit that is? How many do you smoke a day? Must be hundreds!
Jack: This is just a wild stab, but is something bothering you?
Frank: Leave her alone. l mean it. This isn’t a hatcheck girl you can leave behind at the Sheraton. You’ve got two shows a night with her.
Jack: You don’t know what you’re talking about.
Frank: l know trouble, and it’s name starts with ‘S’.
Jack: Do me a favor, Frank. Relax.
Frank: Do me a favor, little brother. Stick to cocktail waitresses.
…
Frank: Okay, we’ll take the Plaza. Then the Capri for 5 days.
Susie: Not the Luau Lounge again.
Frank: What the matter? They don’t salt their peanuts?
Susie: Singing ‘‘Feelings’’, knee-deep in paper orchids and plastic Tiki lamps is not my idea of a fun evening.
Frank: Fun? Who promised you fun? We get paid, remember?
Susie: l’m saying, maybe we should vote on it. Maybe we should ask Jack what he thinks.
Frank: l don’t have to. l know what he thinks. lt’s 5 days, the money’s green. We’re there. Speaking about ‘‘Feelings’’, you might brush up on the lyrics. The other night, you sang the first verse twice.
Susie: Really? That explains the gasps l heard from the audience.
Frank: Okay, let’s hear it. We trashed the Avedon, the Luau Lounge - what’s our beef with ‘Feelings’?
Susie: Nothing… except who cares? I mean, does anybody really need to hear ‘Feelings’ again in their lifetime? It’s like parsley, okay? Take it away, nobody’s going to know the difference.
Frank: ‘Feelings’ is not parsley!
Susie: Frank, to you ‘Feelings’ may be goddamn filet mignon, but to me, it’s parsley. It’s less than parsley.
Frank: Look, ‘Feelings,’ despite what you may think of it, has always been one of the bright moments of the show, and a consistent crowd-pleaser, and consequently we have an obligation to perform it. If we didn’t, the audience would be disappointed.
Susie: Oh. Well, they weren’t exactly crying their eyes out on New Year’s Eve.
Frank: You passed over ‘Feelings’?
Susie: Yeah. Oh, and ‘Bali Hai’ went out with the bathwater, too.
Frank: Ah ha. I see. The cat goes away for the night, and the mice take over the orchestra.
Susie: Hey! I ain’t no mouse.
Frank: That’s right - you’re parsley.
…
Jack: Why don’t you loosen the leash?
Frank: Let’s not let a whiff of perfume blow off 15 years. Be reasonable.
Jack: l play 300 nights a year with you. How much more reasonable do you expect me to be?
…
Susie: Listen. The reason l came last night is…l’m thinking about leaving. The act. l met this guy at New Year’s at the Hotel. And he liked my voice. He thinks l can sell cat food just by singing about it. lt’s crazy, huh?
Jack: Take it.
Susie: l haven’t decided yet. l’m just thinking about it.
Jack: No, take it.
…
Jack: There’s always another girl.
…
Susie: l told Frank l’m quitting.
Jack: Congratulations.
Susie: As of now.
Jack: lf you need a recommendation, you let me know.
Susie: Jesus you’re cold! You know that? You are like a fucking razor blade.
Jack: Careful, you’ll have me thinking you’re going soft on me.
Susie: You don’t give a fuck, do you? About anything.
Jack: What do you want from me? You want me to tell you to stay, hmm? Is that what you’re looking for? You want me to get down on my knees and beg you to save the Baker Boys from doom? Forget it, sweetheart. We survived for 15 years before you strutted onto the scene. Fifteen years. Two seconds, you’re bawling like a baby. You shouldn’t be wearing a dress; you should be wearing a diaper.
Susie: Jesus, you and Egghead are brothers, aren’t you?
…
Jack: Let me tell you something. They’ve dropped like flies in every fucking hotel in the city. We’re still here! We’ve never held a day job in our lives. He’s an easy target, but add it up, he’s done fine.
Susie: Yeah, Frank has done great. He has the wife, kids, little house in the suburbs. While his brother lives a shitty apartment with a sick dog, Little Orphan Annie and a chip on his shoulder size of a Cadillac.
Jack: Listen to me, princess. We fucked twice. That’s it. Once the sweat dries, you still don’t know shit about me. Got it?
Susie: I know one thing. While Frank Baker was home putting his kids to sleep last night, little brother Jack was out dusting off his dreams for a few minutes. I was there. I saw it in your face. You’re full of shit. You’re a fake. Every time you walk into some shitty daiquiri hut, you’re selling yourself on the cheap. Hey, I know all about that. I’d find myself at the end of the night with some creep and tell myself it didn’t matter. And you kid yourself that you’ve got this empty place inside where you can put it all. But you do it long enough and all you are is empty.
Jack: I didn’t know whores were so philosophical.
Susie: At least my brother’s not my pimp. You know, I had you pegged for a loser the first time I saw you, but I was wrong. You’re worse. You’re a coward.[/b]
Back to…
[b]Frank: My name is Frank Baker and you know my little brother Jack. My brother and l have been playing together for…l don’t know. Jack?
Jack: 31 years.
Frank: But of course, back then… it was a little different. We were just kids. The only one who’d listen to us was the family cat, Cecil. We must’ve shaved 3 lives off that cat, huh?
…
Jack: What’s happened to you? Have you been kissing ass so long, you’re starting to like it? You let that guy turn us into clowns tonight. We were always small time, but we were never clowns.
…
Frank: l want to explain something to you, little brother. There are people in this world who depend on me. l got a wife and kids who expect to wake up with food on the table and heat in the house. l got a mortgage. l got car payments. And l got you, my little brother Jack. He’s so hip, so cool and sure that he’s better than everyone. Don’t you think l’d like to walk up to one of those assholes and blow smoke in his face? God damn right l would! But l can’t. l have to be responsible. l have to make the numbers balance in my favor every month so everyone else can go on living their lives. There’s no medals but you’d notice if l closed up shop. Don’t talk to me about dignity.
…
Jack: I’m through with it. I can’t do it anymore.
…
Jack: Would you stop that please.
Nina: [while loudly playing with her paddle ball] You want me to make some coffee? How 'bout some eggs? I can make you some eggs, if you want.
Jack: Knock it off with that fucking thing…it’s driving me nuts! Jack you want eggs, Jack you want coffee. You’re not my housekeeper, I’m not your fucking father. I can’t babysit you every time your mama gets an itch![/b]
Later up on the roof…
[b]Nina: You’re having a bad day, right?
Jack: Right.
Nina: lt’s okay. My mom had a lot of those. Sometimes that’s why l came down.
Jack: Hey, teach you later? What are you going to do, go around playing ‘‘Jingle Bells’’ the rest of your life?
…
Henry: I’ve got Tuesdays and Thursdays open. There yours if you want them, Jack.
…
Frank: Let’s cut the bullshit. You came here to talk business, right? We’ll put the other night behind us. ln a couple of weeks, it’ll be the same. Now you can go.
Jack: l’m not coming back, Frank.
Frank: Then what’s there to talk about?[/b]
The law of the jungle? It is straight ahead. And here might makes it right.
Can you even imagine the objectivists trying to comvince the mountain men to accept the error of their way? Your pain is their pleasure. It’s always relative to a point of view. And the point of view is always situated out in a particular world understood in a particular way.
Here it is the world of the survivalist: Lewis. But, like Drew points out, the surviving part is mostly in his head.
One thing’s for sure though: no buck fever from him. And I backed his narrative all the way. At least the part that begins with the dead body.
Among the actors who turned down or were considered for the four lead roles: Lee Marvin, Marlon Brando, Donald Sutherland, Charleton Heston, Henry Fonda, Jack Nicholson, James Stewart
It’s strange how this works. When a film is as good as this one it becomes almost impossible to imagine any other actors nailing the parts like the ones who already did.
IMDb
[b]Ronny Cox’s shoulder is double-jointed and it was he that suggested to director John Boorman that his arm appear twisted around his neck when his body is discovered. No prosthetic was used.
For his death scene, Bill McKinney trained himself to hold his breath and not blink for two whole minutes.
To minimize costs, the production wasn’t insured - and the actors did their own stunts. For instance, Jon Voight actually climbed the cliff…and local residents were cast in the roles of the hill people.
Ned Beatty was the only one of the four main actors to ever have paddled a canoe prior to shooting the movie, which is ironic since his character is the most inept and clumsy. The others learned on set.
Billy Redden, the boy with the banjo liked Ronny Cox, and disliked Ned Beatty. When at the end of the dueling banjos scene, the script called for Billy to harden his expression towards Drew Ballinger, Cox’s character, he was unable to fake dislike for Cox. To solve the problem, they got Beatty to step towards Billy at the close of the shot. As Beatty approached, Billy hardened his expression and looked away - exactly as intended.
At the age of 16, this boy from Rabun County, Georgia, was the only “authentic” local to play the role of The Banjo Boy in John Boorman’s disturbing hit movie Deliverance (1972). He was hand-picked from his local elementary school, largely due to his “look” (his large head, skinny body, odd-shaped eyes and moronic grin had sadly branded him a poster-child for inbreeding and mental deficiency).[/b]
DELIVERANCE
Directed by John Boorman
From the book by James Dickey [who also wrote the screenplay]
[b]Lewis: There ain’t gonna be no more river. Just gonna be a big, dead lake.
Ed: It’s a very clean way to make electric power. Those lakes provide many people with recreation. My father-in-law has a houseboat on Lake Bowie.
Lewis: You push a little more power into Atlanta…a little more air conditioners for your smug little suburb…and you know what’s gonna happen? They’re gonna rape this whole landscape. They’re gonna rape it.
Ed: That’s an extreme point of view, Lewis.
Bobby: It is. Extremist.
…
Bobby: Mister, I love the way you wear that hat.
Old man: [after taking off his hat and examining it] You don’t know nothin’.
…
Bobby: Talk about your genetic deficiencies—isn’t that pitiful?
…
Drew: Goddamn, you play a mean banjo. Hey, you wanna play another one?
Bobby: Give him a couple of bucks.
…
Lewis: Can that chubby boy handle himself?
Ed: Bobby? He’s rather well thought of in his field, Lewis.
Lewis: Insurance? Shit. I never been insured in my life. I don’t believe in insurance. There’s no risk.
Ed: I’ve got a little.
…
Lewis: Your name Griner?
Griner: What you wanna know for?
Lewis: I was wondering if you and your brother could take a couple of trucks down to Aintry for us.
Griner: Drive 'em down there for what?
Lewis: Me and my buddy here are taking a canoe trip down the Cahulawassee. We’d like our cars to be down in Aintry when we get there. Be there about Sunday noon.
Griner: [sarcastically] Canoe trip?
Lewis: That’s right, a canoe trip.
Griner: What the hell you wanna go fuck around with that river for?
Lewis: Because it’s there.
Griner: It’s there all right. You get in there and can’t get out, you gonna wish it wasn’t.
Ed: [to Lewis, whispering] Look, Lewis, let’s go back to town and, ah…play golf.
Lewis: [ignoring Ed] I’ll give you thirty dollars to take those cars down to Aintry.
Griner: I’ll take fifty.
Lewis: Fifty, my ass.
Ed: Lewis, don’t play games with these people!
Griner: Whud you say?
Lewis: I said “fifty, my ass.”
Ed: [whispering urgently] Lewis!
Griner: I’ll do it for forty.
Lewis: Mm-hmm…
[to Ed]
Lewis: You good for ten?
Ed [relieved]: Sure
…
Lewis: [Ed and Lewis are driving to find the river and come to a dead end] Well, we fucked up.
Ed: You better let them show us.
Lewis: You’re missin’ the whole point, Ed.
Griner: Where you goin’ city boy?
Lewis: We’ll find it. We’ll find it.
Griner: It ain’t nothin’ but the biggest fuckin’ river in the state.
…
Drew: I’m a-goin’ with you, Ed, and not with Mister Lewis Medlock, ‘cause I done seen how he drives these country roads he don’t know nothin’ 'bout.
…
Bobby: Which way we goin’, this way or that way?
Lewis: I think downstream would be a good idea.
…
Bobby: We beat it, didn’t we? Didn’t we beat that?
Lewis: You don’t beat it. You don’t beat this river…
…
Lewis: Machines are gonna fail. And the system’s gonna fail. Then…
Ed: And then what?
Lewis: Then survival. He who has the ability to survive. That’s the game: survive.
Ed: And you can’t wait for it to happen, can you? You can’t wait for it. Well, the system’s done all right by me.
Lewis: Oh, yeah. You got a nice job. Got a nice house…nice wife…nice kid.
Ed: You make that sound rather shitty, Lewis.
Lewis: Why do you go on these trips with me, Ed?
Ed: I Iike my Iife, Lewis.
Lewis: Yeah, but why do you go on these trips with me?
…
Ed: He knows the woods, though. He really does.
Drew: Not really. He learned 'em, he doesn’t feel ‘em. That’s his problem. He wants to be one with nature and he can’t hack it.
Bobby: This is a hell of a time to be tellin’ us that.
…
Ed: No matter what disaster may occur in other parts of the world…or what petty little problems…arise in Atlanta no one can find us up here. Good night, Lewis.
…
Ed: Look, what is it that you require of us?
Mountain Man: What we, uh, “re-quire” is that you get your god-damn asses up in them woods.
…
Mountain Man: [to Bobby] Them panties. Take 'em off.
…
Mountain Man: You ever had your balls cut off you fucking ape?
…
Mountain man: I bet you can squeal. I bet you can squeal like a pig. Let’s squeal. Squeal now. Squeal. Squeal. Squeal louder. Louder. Louder. Louder. Louder!..Get down now, boy! There, get them britches down.
…
Lewis: Anybody know anything about the law?
Drew: I was on a jury duty once. It wasn’t a murder trial.
Lewis: Murder trial? I don’t know the technical word for it, Drew, but I know this: You take this man and turn him over to the sheriff, there’ll be a trial all right. Trial by jury.
Drew: So what?
Lewis: We killed a man, Drew. Shot him in the back. A mountain man. Cracker. Gives us somethin’ to consider.
Drew: All right, consider it. We’re listening.
Lewis: Shit, all these people are related. I’ll be damned if I’ll come back and stand trial with this man’s aunt and uncle…maybe his mama and his daddy sittin’ in the jury box.
…
Drew: This ain’t one of your fuckin’ games, Lewis! You killed somebody!
…
Lewis: Now you listen, Ed! Damn it, we can get out of this thing! Without any questions asked!We get connected up with that body and the law this thing’s gonna be hangin’ over us the rest of our lives. We gotta get rid of that guy.
Drew: Just how are you gonna do that, Lewis? Where?
Lewis: Anywhere. Everywhere. Nowhere. You know what’s gonna be here? Right here. A lake. As far as you can see. Hundreds of feet deep. Hundreds of feet deep. Did you ever look over a lake and think about somethin’ buried underneath it? Buried underneath it! Man, that’s about as buried as you can get!
…
Drew: It is a matter of the LAW!!!
Lewis: The law? Ha! What law? WHERE’S THE LAW, DREW?
…
Ed: Lewis, you’re the guy with the answers. What the hell do we do now?!
Lewis: Now you get to play the game.
…
Bobby: What are you gonna do with Drew?
Ed: If a bullet made this, there are people who can tell.
Bobby: Oh, God! There’s no end to it.
…
Bobby: I didn’t really know him.
Ed: Drew was a…a good husband to his wife Linda, and…you were a wonderful father to your boys, Drew… Jimmy and Billy Ray. And if we come through this, I promise to do all I can for 'em.
[pause]
Ed: He was the best of us.
Bobby: Amen.
…
Sherrif: Let’s just wait and see what comes out of the river.
…
Taxi Driver: Right there’s the town hall. Right over there’s the old fire station. Played a lot of checkers over there, sure did. All this land’s gonna be covered with water - best thing ever happened to this town.
[a truck in front of the cab is carrying a small church building on a flatbed trailer]
Taxi Driver: We might have to wait a minute for the church to get out the way.
…
Lewis: What happened on that last set of rapids? I don’t remember nothing. Nothing.
…
Sherrif: Don’t ever do nothin’ like this again. Don’t come back up here.
Bobby: You don’t have to worry about that, Sheriff.
Sherrif: I’d kinda Iike to see this town die peaceful.[/b]