philosophy in film

For some the blue line is a lot thinner than for others. And then there are those who view it as actually worse than no line at all. It’s all about stuff like class and race and gender. Among other things.

There are folks who even argue the police are good to have around only because things would be so much worse if they were gone completely. But in the interim they don’t really expect them to be of much use when the crime is directed at them personally. Somebody breaks into your apartment or robs you on the street [in some parts of town] and chances are they will never be caught and punished.

Then there’s the part about corruption. The part that plays out when actual inncocent people are framed for a crime they didn’t commit. The part where the only thing that ever really seems to matter is to get the crime “off the books”. Cops, in other words, who really don’t give a fuck whether someone is innocent or guilty…they just want the case “solved”. So they use whatever means necessary to accomplish that. In places like this [Vidor, Texas] there’s “by the book” justice and there’s the way things actually get done. Sometimes they bear almost no resemblance to each other. It’s all invested in the “good ole boy” approach to “criminal justice”. And if you are not a “local”, you can easily be on your own.

There are so many slimeballs here. All you can think about are the hundreds of innocent folks over the years who were railroaded like this. Folks who weren’t later exonerated after famous documentaries were made about them.

IMDb

[b]Was rejected by the Oscars for Best Documentary category in 1989 because it was considered to be a fictional film due to its scripted content.

Errol Morris spent 2-1/2 years tracking down the various players in the Randall Adams case and convincing them to appear in the film.

In light of the new evidence uncovered by the film, an evidentiary hearing was held. David Harris testified, recanting his earlier testimony against Randall Adams. “Randall Adams knew nothing about this offense and was not in the car at the time,” Harris testified. Adams’ capital murder verdict was overturned, and he was released from prison in March 1989. Adams then filed suit against filmmaker Errol Morris over the rights to his life.[/b]

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Thin_Blue_Line_(film
trailer: youtu.be/dNL5A4D0G4g

THE THIN BLUE LINE [1988]
Written and directed by Errol Morris

[b]Harris: I’m driving down some street somewhere in Dallas. I had just turned 16. And there was a guy over there, I think he’d run out of gas. I took him to get some gas. This was Randall Adams.

Adams: I get up, I go to work on Saturday. Why did I meet this kid? I don’t know. Why did I run out of gas at that time? I don’t know. But it happened. It happened.

Adams: Gus Rose walked in. He had a confession there he wanted me to sign. He said that I would sign. He didn’t give a damn what I said. I would sign this piece of paper. I told him I couldn’t. “I don’t know what the hell you people expect of me. But there’s no way I can sign that.” He left. He came back in minutes. And threw a pistol on the table. Asked me to look at it. Which I did. I looked. He asked me to pick it up. I told him no, I wouldn’t do that. He threatened me. Again, I told him no. He pulled his service revolver on me. We looked at each other for… To me, it seemed hours. I do not like looking down the barrel of a pistol. I do not like being threatened. When he finally saw that he would either have to kill me… or forget the signature… I guess he forgot the signature, because he put his pistol up.

Dennis Johnson: I prepared a motion for a continuance to get more time to try the case and in doing that had to lay out my schedule for several weeks as to exactly what time I’d be in Vidor, Texas. Vidor is the headquarters of the Ku Klux Klan for the state of Texas. It’s a city where black people will not spend the night. Black people won’t even stop there to get their car filled with gasoline. And furthermore, the people of Vidor were under the impression that the policeman that was murdered was a black man.

Floyd Jackson: David didn’t have a conscience. If I do something bad I think, “Shucks, I shouldn"t done that, I feel bad about it.” It didn’t bother him. It didn’t bother him at all.

Edith James [regarding the Millers]: The only reason they were talking to the police at all was that there had been a three-day running knife fight in their apartment. And they were all booked for disorderly and drunk behavior in there…including assault with knives, and all kinds of stuff. When they were at the police station, they suddenly decided to volunteer all this information about what they had seen about the police officer’s killing.

Woman: The Millers were scum. They were actually just scum. Let me put it in his words. For enough money, he would testify to what they wanted him to say. He would say anything they wanted him to say. Or he would see anything that they wanted him to see. Those were his words.[/b]

Of course the cops and the prosecutors here are scum too.

[b]Judge: I do have to admit that in the Adams case…and I’ve never really said this…Doug Mulder’s final argument was one I’d never heard before. About the “thin blue line” of police that separated the public from anarchy. I have to concede that there my eyes kind of welled up when I heard that. It did get to me emotionally.

Adams: You have a D. A…he doesn’t talk about when they convict you or how they convict you… he’s talking about how he’s going to kill you. He don’t give a damn if you’re innocent. He don’t give a damn if you’re guilty. He’s talking about killing you. You get numb. You get…It’s like a bad dream. You want to wake up, but you can’t do it. Fifteen times, times a day, I hear this same story about what happens when a man is electrocuted. His eyeballs pop out. His fingernails pop out. His toenails pop out. He bleeds out of every orifice he’s got. They don’t care…They don’t care. All they want to do is talk about how they’re going to kill you. That’s the only thing that they cared about and talked about.

Melvyn Bruder: Prosecutors in Dallas have said for years that any prosecutor can convict a guilty man. It takes a great prosecutor to convict an innocent man.

Sam Kittrell: David thought that the one that was really at fault that night was the guy that got killed. He said, “That guy’s crazy. He came after me with a gun.” I told him, “David, you’d broken into his house, you abducted his girlfriend, what was he supposed to do?” He said, “Man shouldn’t come out with a gun. That dude’s crazy. He should have been killed.”

Adams [of David Harris]: The kid scares me. To think that he could actually be out there, walking the streets… and Dallas County let him go. The kid had seven crimes coming down on him. He had armed robberies. He had firing on a peace officer. He had breaking and enterings, aggravated assaults. God knows what all this kid had. And Dallas County gives him complete immunity for his testimony. Just lets him walk.

Adams: My mom had a good phrase. She said the first night she pulled into Dallas, it was raining…and that it was lightning. And they’re coming into Dallas and she said if there was ever a hell on earth, it’s Dallas County. She’s right.

Errol Morris: Were you surprised when the police blamed him?
Harris: They didn’t blame him. I did. A scared sixteen year old kid. He would sure like to get out of it if he can.
Errol Morris: Do you think they believed you?
Harris: No doubt. Must have. They didn’t have nothing else until I give them something, so…I guess they get something, they run with it, you know.
Errol Morris: Were you surprised they believed you?
Harris: I might have been. I don’t know. I was hoping they’d believe me, you know. After all was said and done it was kind of unbelievable. But there it is. I’ve always thought if you could say why there’s a reason Randall Adams is in jail, it might be because the fact that he didn’t have no place for somebody to stay that helped him that night…landed him where’s he’s at…That might be the reason. That might be the only, total reason why he’s where he’s at today.[/b]

That’s where the documentary ends. Read the wiki article above to find out what has transpired since. A gigantic miscarriage of justice—Texas style.

This happened. July 12, 2000. A man [a boy actually] tried to rob a bus. The police arrived and he took 11 hostages. Then the SWAT team arrived. And it was all documented.

The film maker then takes us “behind the scenes”. Who was this man? Why did he do what he did? How does his behavior fit into the big picture—the complex demographics that unfold in Rio de Janerio on any given day. In particular focusing in on the poor and the homeless “street kids”. The “invisible kids”. The lives they live, how and why they got there, the manner in which others react to them.

In a way it could have been any major metropolis in the world. It’s just a matter of degree.

Here’s a snapshot of the hijacker

Sandro was only 6 years old when his mother was murdered in front of him in a shack in the Rato Molhado favela. The boy saw everything. He didn’t have a father. Grandparents? No such thing. So he was on his own. He had nobody to look after him. So he hit the streets. He went to Meyer. In Meyer, he met other street kids. They formed a small gang and went to Copacabana. There’s money and food there. They go hungry less often. It’s harder to beg in the suburbs. Here, tourists give you money and food. That’s how it started. He went from a family tragedy to being in a gang of street kids.

Is it fair to suggest the extent to which a nation can be deemed “civilized” is the extent to which it is willing to care for its most vulnerable? And if impoverished children living out on the streets due to circumstances largely beyond their control aren’t the most vulnerable, who are? Over and again we see the contrast between the Rio most folks are familiar with – the fabulous hotels, the sun drenched beaches, the beautiful people – and the [at times] apalling conditions these kids must endure just in order to stay alive.

And then the gap between the police and the SWAT teams. The gap between “law enforcement” in the slums and law enforcement in more properous parts of the city. And all the talking heads – psychologists, sociologists, journalists – explaining to us what it “means”. And then [as always] there’s the reality of race. Though never really discussed.

trailer: youtu.be/zmG9_rr2j8Y
Note: this is not actually from the documentary…it’s more like a dramatic reenactment of what the documentary portrays. Why? Damned if I know.

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bus_174

Bus 174 [Ônibus 174] 2002
Directed by Felipe Lacerda, José Padilha

Some folks are racists. For them, Asians are Asians are Asians. No distinctions made, no distinctions necessary. But in that part of the world historically distinctions were often made. And the consequences could be deadly.

Here there are the Japanese, the Chinese and the Chinese who collaborated with the Japanese during the war.

The story is said to be “loosely” based on actual events that unfolded during the time the Japanese had occupied Shanghai. And, as is often the case in turbulent times, there are those who act out their proper roles and those who do whatever it takes to convince everyone that they are too. In actuality though everything is calculated from a point of view that revolves around expediencey. Whatever works. Either to just stay alive or [for some] even to prosper. And, for particular women, being young and beautiful can have its own unique advantages. Better able, for example, to become a spy. Or even an assassin.

But first, a lover.

What’s incredible is the transformation that can unfold in the life of someone who is caught up in the midst of these great upheavals. The shy, self-effacing Wong Chia-chi we meet in 1938 is hardly recognizable at all as the worldly Mrs. Mai 4 years later.

The tricky part here [for most of us] is in choosing sides. Given the fact that Japan was a part of the Axis alliance in WWII, it seems easy enough: the Chinese. But what is it they reflect by way of a political agenda? For example, were they Reds? No way. That was still farther down the road for folks like these. It revolves instead around nationalism…and national sovereignty. Here though the foucus is on the personal…and in how the political can twist it all out of shape. Or be twisted all out of shape in turn. With lust, things can get complicated. So take caution. And even more so with love.

Why did she do it? How in the world would I know.

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lust,Caution(film
trailer: youtu.be/CizN-DvGhrc

LUST, CAUTION [Se, Jie] 2007
Directed by Ang Lee

[b]Kuang: The other day I ran into a guy Tsao from my hometown. He used to hang around with my brother at school. I heard he’s working for a collaborator…a top agent of Wang Jingwei, goes by the name of Yee who’s hiding out in Hong Kong. Wang Jingwei and his so-called “Peace Movement”. They’re just traitors. Running dogs for the Japanese. Yee is recruiting for them in Hong Kong. I was lucky to bump into Tsao. What a chance for us.
Auyang: A chance for what?
Kuang: I’m not talking about theater. Wrenching tears and shouts from an audience can’t compare with eliminating a flesh and blood traitor.

Auyang: One bottle assassinated!
Friend: Congratulations. A whole month and you’re excited about killing a bottle.
Kuang: I admit we’re amateurs. But we made a decision… and got access to Yee’s household. Should we give up now?

Mai/Wong [to Yee]: Having a man is fine, as long as he is never home.

Mai: You men have so much to say to each other, but with women you just make small talk.
Yee: Small talk like this…to me…is a rare treat. The people I deal with are high officials talking about important matters of state…the destiny of our nation. But no matter what words come out of their mouths I see only one thing in their eyes.
Mai: What?
Yee: Fear.

Mai: When he calls again, then he’ll be serious. I’ll have him hooked. I’ll be his mistress. And then… have you thought through what we’re going to do?
Friend: Would you know what to do? With a man?
Mai: So you’ve already discussed it. Which one?
Friend: Liang is the only one experienced.
Mai: With whores.[/b]

So, they have to teach her how to…copulate.

[b]Liang: I think you’re getting the hang of it.
Mai: Shut up.

Kuang: You never knew, did you? In Hong Kong we were being watched. The night you left they came to us. They cleaned up the mess and smuggled us out.
Mai: Who were they?
Kuang: The resistance. They’ve been behind the assassination of all kinds of collaborators. The mayor of Shanghai, the chief of the public concession were all their work. Now you know how childish we were. How absurd.
Mai: Especially me. I was so naive.
Kuang: It was my fault.
Mai: We’ve all paid a price.

Kuang: I have a mission. The job we started is still unfinished. Yee is now in charge of Wang Jingwei’s secret service. He’s officially in charge of the police, but of course he’s a watchdog for the Japanese. He murders judges, journalists, anyone who supports the resistance…and our agents. We missed our chance three years ago. Now it’s impossible to get past his security. We can’t touch him.[/b]

But she can.

[b]Old Wu: I trust Kuang has already briefed you? Sit. Can we get straight to the point? First things first. But also the last.
[he hands her a capsule – a suicide capsule]
Old Wu: Before you begin, sew this into your clothes. In case you’re exposed. Just in case. It won’t be painful, but you must move fast. Before anyone can get to your hands, understand?

Mai: What if I told you…I hate you.
Yee: I would believe you.
[he kneads her breast]
Yee: They weren’t like this three years ago.
Mai: I hate you.
Yee: I said I believed you. And I haven’t believed anyone in a long time.

Old Wu: Wong Chia Chi is a precious lead, which we must exploit fully.
Kuang: But she is not a trained spy. She can’t take the pressure.
Old Wu: You underestimate her. Wong Chia Chi carries herself every bit like Mak Tai Tai, and not an agent. She’s come this far, that’s no small feat. Our superiors are very impressed. We’ve sent two other superbly trained women to try to snare him. But he sniffed them out. They were killed after giving up their entire cells.
Kuang: You don’t care about her safety. She’s gotten Yee hooked like she was supposed to. Now we should take over!
Old Wu: Don’t tell me what to do! You listen to me! Yee murdered my wife and both my children. But I could still eat with him at the same table! That’s what an agent must be able to do! I’d like nothing better than to kill him with my own hands. But if letting him live another few days is valuable, then we must! Keep him hooked, and keep me informed. Don’t do anything without my order!

Old Wu: Remember… For an agent there is only one thing… Loyalty. To the party, to our leader, to our country. Understand?![/b]

Indeed. That’s why I’d make a shitty agent.

[b]Mai: What trap are you talking about? My body? What do you take him for? He knows better than you how to put on an act. He not only gets inside me…he worms his way into my heart like a snake. Deeper. All the way in. I take him in like a slave. I play my part faithfully…so I, too, can get to his heart. Every time he hurts me until I bleed…and scream. Then he is satisfied. Then he feels alive. In the dark only he knows it’s all real.
Old Wu: That’s enough.
Mai: That’s why…That’s why I can torture him until he can’t stand it any longer…and still I go on until we collapse from exhaustion.
Old Wu: Enough!
Mai: And when he finally comes inside me, I think maybe this is it. Maybe this is when you’ll rush in and shoot him in the back of the head…and his blood and brains will cover me!
Old Wu: Shut up!

Mai [urgently to Yee]: Go now.

Mrs. Yee: What’s going on? Your assistant and two men from the ministry came by and took away her things. And some things from your study.
Yee: Say nothing. If anyone asks, Mak Tai Tai had an emergency and went back to Hong Kong.
Mrs. Yee: What happened?
Yee: Go downstairs. Keep playing.[/b]

What’s it about? Well, that’s close enough.

Try this: imdb.com/title/tt0460829/faq?ref_=tt_faq_sm

It’s almost like shooting a whole bunch of short [loosely connected] films and then splicing them all together. Only then do you try to come up with something in the way of a “narrative”. A film within a film within a film within dream within a dream within a dream. Which makes for an identity within an identity within an identity. Who are you in reality? When are you acting and when are you not? And is it enough to believe something is true in order to justify what you think it means?

Who knows, maybe this is how it was for Brad and Angelina.

And then from the perspective of, say, rabbits. With a laughtrack so you’ll know when it’s funny.

And that’s just for starters. Next up: The Enigmatic Neighbor.

As with all the rest of them you are drawn in as much by what you see as by what you hear. The words are just a way to enchance the subjunctive atmostsphere conveyed by the images that seem to float in and out of a space/time continuance all its own. Most “scenes” veritably dripping an ominous and forboding sense of doom and gloom. A good enough way as any to make sense out of the lives we live. At least from my own perspective.

It’s strange what love does: youtu.be/o4N48d9eLsI

In some respects this makes Lost Highway seem like reciting the alphabet. All we can do is hope that Lynch has at least one more full-lenght film in him. It doesn’t look good though.

IMDb

[b]During a conversation between David Lynch and Laura Dern, Dern mentioned that her husband was from the Inland Empire (an area east of Los Angeles County, including Riverside and San Bernadino County). Lynch confesses he stopped listening to what she was saying because he loved the sound of the words “Inland Empire”, and finally decided on these words as the title of his movie because “I like the word inland. And I like the word empire.”

In an interview with Joe Huang at the AFI Dallas Film Festival, David Lynch stated that “Inland Empire” wasn’t originally intended to be a feature film. He would simply come up with an idea and - utilizing the versatility and ease of using DV cameras - would film it, creating a series of seemingly unrelated scenes; the first scene filmed was Laura Dern’s monologue to the silent psychiatrist. As time progressed, he began to see how the stories were connected, and continued filming scenes for it until he had what we see now. Rumors that Lynch began filming without a script are more or less incorrect, as he would write a short scene and film it, without having the intention of making feature length film.

Stars Laura Dern and Justin Theroux have both said they have no idea what the film is about.

Marketing executives were so puzzled by the film that they did not know how to promote it. They eventually chose the tagline “a woman in trouble”, based on David Lynch’s sole explanation of the film as a mystery about a woman in trouble.[/b]

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inland_Empire_(film
trailer: youtu.be/BBENalLEnSE

INLAND EMPIRE [2006]
Written and directed by David Lynch

[b]Neighbor: Hmmm. A little boy went out to play. When he opened his door, he saw the world. As he passed through the doorway, he caused a reflection. Evil was born. Evil was born, and followed the boy.
Nikki: I’m sorry, what is that?
Neighbor: An old tale, and a variation. A little girl went out to play. Lost in the marketplace, as if half-born. Then, not through the marketplace - you see that, don’t you? - but through the alley behind the marketplace. This is the way to the palace. But it isn’t something you remember. Forgetfullness…it happens to us all. And me…I’m the worst one. Now, where was I?

Neighbor: Is there a murder in your film?
Nikki: Uh, no. It’s not part of the story.
Neighbor: No, I think you are wrong about that.
Nikki: No.
Neighbor: Brutal fucking murder!
Nikki: I don’t like this kind of talk; the things you’ve been saying. I think you should go now.

Neighbor: Yes. Me, I… I can’t seem to remember if it’s today, two days from now, or yesterday. I suppose if it was 9:45, I’d think it was after midnight! For instance, if today was tomorrow, you wouldn’t even remember that you owed on an unpaid bill. Actions do have consequences. And yet, there is the magic. If it was tomorrow, you would be sitting over there.
[Neighbor points to Nikki’s couch across the room]
Neighbor: Do you see?[/b]

From the look on Nikki’s face: nope.

[b]Devon: If you’re looking for shock value, Marilyn, I suggest you look in the mirror.

Devon: Kingsley, get to the point.
Kingsley: “On High and Blue Tomorrows” is in fact a remake.
Devon: It’s a remake?
Kingsley: Yeah.
Devon: I wouldn’t do a remake.
Kingsley: No, no, no, no. I know. Of course… but you didn’t know. The original was under a different name. It was started, but never finished. Now, Freddy’s found out that our producers know the history of this film and they have taken it upon themselves not to pass that information along to us. Purposefully. Of course, not me. I assume not to the two of you. True?
Nikki: No…absolutely. Nobody told me anything.
Devon: No, me neither. I thought this was an original script.
Kingsley: Yeah… well… anyway, the film was never finished.
Nikki: I don’t understand. Why wasn’t it finished?
Kingsley: Well, after the characters have been filming for some time, they discovered something… something inside the story.
Devon: Please. Kingsley.
Kingsley: The two leads were murdered! It was based on a Polish-Gypsy folk-tale. The title in German was “Vier-Sieben: 47”. And it was said to be cursed. So it turned out to be.

Nikki: Are you enjoying yourself, Freddie?
Freddie: Well… There is a vast network, right? An ocean of possibilities. I like dogs. I used to raise rabbits. I’ve always loved animals. Their nature. How they think. I have seen dogs reason their way out of problems. Watched them think through the trickiest situations. Do you have a couple of bucks I could borrow? I’ve got this damn landlord.

Piotrek [to Devon]: There are consequences to one’s actions. And there certainly would be consequences to wrong actions. Dark they would be, and inescapable.

Nikki [playing Susan]: Something’s happened. I think my husband knows about you…about us. He’ll kill you…and me. Damn! This sounds like a dialogue from our script!
Kingsley: Cut it. Cut. What’s going on?
Nikki [bewildered]: What?
Kingsley: What in bloody hell is going on?

Nikki: This is a story that happened yesterday. But I know it’s tomorrow.

Nikki [to a shrink]: Some men change. Well, they don’t change - they reveal. They reveal themselves over time, you know?

Nikki: Bam! I seen what this fucker was up to. I kicked him straight in the balls so hard they go crawling into his brain for refuge - he went down like a two dollar whore.

Nikki [after she gouged the eye out of a rapist and got him in the nuts]: When the ambulance guys came they asked what happened, I told them “He’s reaping what he’s been sowing, that’s what.” They said “Fucker been sowing some pretty heavy shit.”

Lori: There’s always a chance with tits like yours, Kari.
Kari: Thanks.

Woman [out of the blue]: Who is she?

Nikki: All I see from this is blue tomorrows.

Nikki: Fucking funny…people…they all got their own peculiarities…their own way of living.

Nikki [to shrink]: The thing is, I don’t what was before or after. I don’t know what happened first…and it’s kind of laid a mind-fuck on me…I figured one day I’d just wake up and find out what the fuck it is all about. I’m not too keen on thinkin’ about tommorow. And today’s slipping by.[/b]

There are folks who dream about nothing else but going up into the mountains…being able to survive up there on their own. But most folks still can’t imagine anything less appealing. Or I figure it is probably that way. Me, I couldn’t do it in a million years. At least not any more. Wished I could though any number of times.

And I suspect that up there philosophy ain’t of much use. Not if you are on your own. Or trying hard to be. Imagine arguing with someone about the morality of hunting…or of eating animal flesh.

Of course, that’s now. Back then survival was all the more problematic. There were folks aiming to kill you, for instance. The Crow in particular.

Here’s the thing though: He goes up into the mountains to get away from folks. But then the next thing you know he has [for all practical purposes] a wife and a son. Seems that unless you manage to live entirely on your own there is no escaping one or another set of rules. Not counting those imposed on you by nature itself.

Look for a clash of cultures.

IMDb

[b]Based upon a real-life trapper named John Johnston, nicknamed “Crow Killer” and “Liver Eater Johnston” for his penchant for cutting out and eating the livers of Crow Indians he had killed (several Crows had murdered his wife and he swore vengeance against the entire tribe). Trapper John Johnston’s body was buried in the Veteran’s Cemetery in Los Angeles. After the movie came out, Johnston’s body was reburied at Old Trail Town in Cody, Wyoming. Robert Redford was a pallbearer in the reburial ceremony attended by 2,000 people.

According to the book ‘Crow Killer’, the Crazy Woman was a real person who had settled in the Wolf Tail Valley. After her children were killed and her husband taken captive, she remained in her cabin. Liver Eatin’ Johnson, Del Gue, and Anton Sepulveda were among the mountain men who ‘avenged’ her. One popular story was that the mountain man known as ‘Hatchet Jack’ was actually her husband who had gone insane after being scalped and tortured by the Blackfeet when they took him away. It was known that Hatchet Jack had been scalped at some point in his life and that he was mentally unbalanced. Johnson refers to this when he tells the Crazy Woman that he cannot find any sign of her husband, but that he might return if he escaped from the Indians.

During principal photography the temperature dropped as low as -25° Fahrenheit.

The actual real-life Mountain Men of the Rocky Mountains spoke a language which was a combination of Spanish, St-Louis French and quasi-frontier English.

Not until the very end of shooting the picture did director Sydney Pollack decide the fate of what would happen to Jeremiah Johnson (Robert Redford) at the end of the film, though in reality, Redford decided.[/b]

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jeremiah_Johnson_(film
trailer: youtu.be/uzjN8YJt55g

JEREMIAH JOHNSON [1972]
Directed by Sydney Pollack

[b]Narrator: His name was Jeremiah Johnson, and they say he wanted to be a mountain man. The story goes that he was a man of proper wit and adventurous spirit, suited to the mountains. Nobody knows whereabouts he come from and don’t seem to matter much. He was a young man and ghosty stories about the tall hills didn’t scare him none. He was looking for a Hawken gun, .50 caliber or better. He settled for a .30, but damn, it was a genuine Hawken, and you couldn’t go no better. Bought him a good horse, and traps, and other truck that went with being a mountain man, and said good-bye to whatever life was down there below.

Johnson: Where is it l could find bear, beaver, other critters worth cash skinned?
Man: Ride due west as the sun sets. Turn left at the Rocky Mountains.

Johnson [reading the note pinned to Hatchet Jack’s shirt]: “I, Hatchet Jack, being of sound mind and broke legs, do leaveth my rifle to the next thing who finds it, Lord hope he be a white man. It is a good rifle, and kilt the bear that kilt me. Anyway, I am dead. Sincerely, Hatchet Jack.”

Johnson: I ain’t seen no live man in months.
Bear Claw: I am Bear Claw Chris Lapp. Blood kin to the grizzly that bit Jim Bridger’s ass! You are molesting my hunt! I know who you are! You’re the same dumb pilgrim I’ve been hearing for 20 days…and smelling for 3!

Bear Claw: Are you sure you can skin grizz?
Johnson: Just as fast as you can catch’ em.
[Bear Claw runs into and through the cabin with a huge grizzly bear close behind and jumps out the back window]
Bear Claw [as the fight rages inside the cabin]: Skin that one, pilgrim, and I’ll get you another!
[Shot sounds from inside the cabin]

Bear Claw [Seeing the striped military trousers Jeremiah’s wearing]: Must have missed another war down there, hmm?

Johnson [as he and Bear Claw hunt elk]: Wind’s right, but he’ll just run soon as we step out of these trees.
Bear Claw: Trick to it. Walk out on this side of your horse.
Johnson: What if he sees our feet?
Bear Claw: Elk don’t know how many feet a horse has!

Bear Claw: Says he’s got enough bear claws.

Johnson: The lnjuns put you here?
Del Gue: lt weren’t Mormons.

Del Gue [after Jeremiah and Del have killed the Indians that stole Del’s horse and gear]: Don’t you want any of these?
Johnson: What?
Del Gue: Scalps!
Johnson [Shaken by the incident]: No.
Del Gue: Well, Mother Gue never raised such a foolish child!
[Pulls his knife and begins scalping the Indians]

[Johnson is being forced by the Flathead chief to marry his daughter]
Johnson: Del Gue, I don’t think this is a good idea.
Del Gue: He may be a Christian and talk white; but he’s still an Indian and his rules is his rules. Now, when this is over you can take her to Fort Hawley and trade her, but you will get married my friend. Besides, maybe she ain’t half bad.

Del Gue [to Jeremiah]: You turn down this gift, and they’ll slit you, me, Caleb and the horses from crotch to eyeball with a dull deer antler!

Johnson [looking down at Swan’s naked body]: Lord…

Johnson: How does the war go?
Lt. Mulvey: Which war?
Johnson: The war against the President of Mexico.
Lt. Mulvey: Why, it’s over.
Johnson: Who won?

Johnson: Where you headed?
Del Gue: Same place you are, Jeremiah: hell, in the end.

Del Gue: Just like this, one at a time?
[Johnson nods]
Del Gue: You’re lucky they were Crows. Apaches would send 50 at once. Amongst Injuns a tribe’s greatness is figured on how mighty its enemies be.

Del Gue: Jeremiah, maybe you best go down to a town, get outta these mountains.
Johnson: I’ve been to a town Del.

Johnson: You’ll do well, Del; providing you don’t get into trouble with all that hair.

Del Gue: I told my pap and mam I was coming to the mountains to trap and be a mountain man. Acted like they was gut-shot. Says: ‘‘Son make your life go here. Here’s where the people is. Them mountains is for animals and savages!’’ I said: ‘‘Mother Gue… the Rocky Mountains is the marrow of the world.’’ And by God, I was right.
Johnson: Yes, you were.

Qualen [to Jeremiah, about the pile of trophies left by the Crow outside the cabin]: Some say you’re dead on account of this. Some say you never will be… on account of this.

Johnson: Would you happen to know what month of the year it is?
Bear Claw: No, I truly wouldn’t. I’m sorry, pilgrim.

Bear Claw [to Johnson]: You have done well to keep so much hair…when so many are after it.[/b]

This has got to be one of the raunchiest movies ever made. But it’s all done with words. The language is, well, filthy. I mean really filthy. But no one can deny it’s not funny. I mean really funny. Unless, of course, you are offend by really filthy language.

Then there’s the part about the lesbian who becomes involved with a man. After all, there are folks who insist that is all it really takes. Just as there are men who insist that they would be the one to bring them around. But it’s really a lot more sophisticated than that. At least I think it is.

Here is one reaction: cinemaqueer.com/review%20pag … 20amy.html
And another: queeringthecloset.blogspot.com/2 … -1997.html

Did I mention the debauched language? But this is one of those films whereby if you are “one of them” it is okay to use certain words…words such that if you are not one of them you can catch all I kinds of hell for using. Well, aside from the few deemed worthy enough to be granted something analogous to a dispensation from the proper authorities.

More love, lust and [sigh] human remains.

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chasing_Amy
trailer: youtu.be/EiATQ04pH14

[b]Note: some explicit language[/b]

CHASING AMY ]1997]
Written and directed by Kevin Smith

[b]Fan: I love these guys! You know what? They’re like Bill and Ted meet…Cheech and Chong!
Holden: Yeah. I-I kinda like to think of them as Rosencrantz and Guildenstern meet Vladamir and Estragon.
Fan: Yes!
[pause]
Fan: Who?

Banky (signing the comic): I ink it and I’m also the colorist. The guy next to me draws it. But we both came up with the characters.
Collector: What’s that mean - you ‘ink it’!
Banky: Well. It means that Holden draws the pictures in pencil, and then he gives it to me to go over in ink.
Collector: So you just trace!
Banky: It’s not tracing. I add depth and shading to give the image mere definition. Only then does the drawing really take shape.
Collector: You go over what he draws with a pen - that’s tracing.
Banky: Not really.
Collector [to kid in line]: Hey man. If somebody draws something and then you draw the same thing right on top of it, not going out-side the designated original art what do call that!
Kid (shrugging): I don’t know. Tracing?

Kid: I don’t want you to sign it, man. I want the guy that draws Bluntman and Chronic to sign it.
[snatches the comic away]
Kid: You’re just a tracer.
Collector: Tell him, little shaver.

Hooper: For years in this industry, whenever an African American character, hero or villain, was introduced - usually by white artists and writers - they got slapped with racist names that singled them out as Negroes. Now, my book, “White-Hatin’ Coon,” don’t have none of that bullshit. The hero’s name is Maleekwa, and he’s a descendant from the black tribe that established the first society on the planet, while all you European motherfuckers were still hiding in caves and shit, all terrified of the sun. He’s a strong role model that a young black reader can look up to. ‘Cause I’m here to tell you, the chickens is coming home to roost, y’all. The black man’s no longer gonna play the minstrel in the medium of comics and sci-fi fantasy. We keepin’ it real, and we gonna get respect by any means necessary.
Holden: Ah, come on, that’s a bunch of horse shit! Lando Calrissian was a black guy. You know. He got to fly the Millennium Falcon, what’s the matter with you?
Hooper: Who said that?
Holden: I did! Lando Calrissian is a positive role-model in the realm of science-fiction/fantasy.
Hooper: Fuck Lando Calrissian! Uncle Tom nigger!

Hooper: Always some white boy gotta invoke the holy trilogy. Bust this: Those movies are about how the white man keeps the brother man down, even in a galaxy far, far away. Check this shit: You got cracker farm boy Luke Skywalker, Nazi poster boy, blond hair, blue eyes. And then you got Darth Vader, the blackest brother in the galaxy, Nubian god!
Banky: What’s a Nubian?
Hooper: Shut the fuck up! Now…Vader, he’s a spiritual brother, y’know, down with the force and all that good shit. Then this cracker, Skywalker, gets his hands on a light saber and the boy decides he’s gonna run the fuckin’ universe; gets a whole clan of whites together. And they go and bust up Vader’s hood, the Death Star. Now what the fuck do you call that?
Banky: Intergalactic civil war?
Hooper: Gentrification! They gon’ drive out the black element to make the galaxy quote, unquote, safe for white folks. And Jedi’s the most insulting installment! Because Vader’s beautiful black visage is sullied when he pulls off his mask to reveal a feeble, crusty, old white man! They tryin’ to tell us that deep inside we all wants to be white!
Banky: Well, isn’t that true?
[Hooper pulls out his gun, “shoots” Banky]

Hooper: I need to sell the image to sell the book. I mean, would the audience still buy the whole black rage angle if they found out the book was written by a… you know…
Banky: Faggot?
Hooper: When you say it, it sounds so sexy.
[kisses Banky]

Holden: Sorry about Banky, he’s, uh, he’s dealing with being an inker.
Alyssa: Oh…he traces.

Banky: Archie and the Riverdale gang were a pure and fun- lovin’ bunch. You can’t find dysfunction in those comics, because they were just flat out wholesome.
Hooper: Archie and Jughead were lovers.
Banky: Shut the fuck up.
Hooper: It’s true. Archie was the bitch and Jughead was the butch - that’s why Jughead wears that crown-looking hat all the time: he the king, of queen Archie’s world.
Banky: Man, I feel a hate-crime coming on.

Banky [to Hooper]: I’m going to prove to you beyond the shadow of a doubt that Archie is all about pussy.

Banky: Archie is not fucking Mr. Weatherbee!
Hooper: Deny deny deny.

Holden [to Hooper]: Alyssa from last night Alyssa?

Hooper: Wait, wait. There’s something you should know.
Holden: She’s got a boyfriend?
Hooper: Well, no.
Holden: Then what’s to know, my friend? What’s to know?

Banky [to Hooper]: There’s a lot of chicks in this place.

Banky [to Holden watching Alyssa and Kim kiss]: Now that was a shared moment.

Alyssa: Let me ask you a question. Can men fuck each other?
Banky: What, are you asking for my permission?
Alyssa: In your estimation.
Banky: Sure.
Alyssa: So, for you, to fuck is to penetrate. You’re used to the more traditional definition. You inside some girl you duped, jackhammering away, not noticing that bored look in her eyes.

Alyssa: Fucking is not limited to penetration, Banky. For me it describes any sex, when it’s not totally about love. I don’t love Kim, but I’ll fuck her. I’m sure you don’t love every girl you sleep with.
Banky: Some of them I downright loathe.

Banky [on his lovemaking approach]: You gotta handle it like CNN and the Weather Channel: constant updates.

Holden [after learning that Alyssa is gay]: Come on, let’s go. We gotta beat that traffic, huh?
Banky: What traffic? It’s 1:30 in the morning!
Holden: And rush hour starts in just six hours. Let’s go.

Alyssa: So, you’ve never been curious about men?
Holden: Curious about men? Well, I always wondered why my father watched Hee Haw.

Holden: Virginity is lost through penetration.
Alyssa: Physical penetration or emotional?
Holden: Emotional?
Alyssa: Well, I fell in love hard with Caitlin Bree when we were in high school.
Holden: Physical penetration.
Alyssa: We had sex.
Holden: Yeah, but not real sex.
Alyssa: I move to have that remark stricken from the record. On account of it makes you come off as completely naive and infantile.
Holden: Well where’s the penetration in lesbian sex?
Holden [after Alyssa holds up her hand]: A finger? Come on. I’ve had my finger in my ass but I wouldn’t say I’ve had anal sex.

Banky: Alright, now see this? This is a four-way road, okay? And dead in the center is a crisp, new, hundred dollar bill. Now, at the end of each of these streets are four people, okay? You following?
Holden: Yeah.
Banky: Good. Over here, we have a male-affectionate, easy to get along with, non-political agenda lesbian. Down here, we have a man-hating, angry as fuck, agenda of rage, bitter dyke. Over here, we got Santa Claus, and up here the Easter Bunny. Which one is going to get to the hundred dollar bill first?
Holden: What is this supposed to prove?
Banky: No, I’m serious. This is a serious exercise. It’s like an SAT question. Which one is going to get to the hundred dollar bill first? The male-friendly lesbian, the man-hating dyke, Santa Claus, or the Easter bunny?
Holden: The man-hating dyke.
Banky: Good. Why?
Holden: I don’t know.
Banky [shouting]: Because the other three are figments of your fucking imagination!!

Holden: I think you should let this one go.
Banky: No, what would you say? Would you trash twenty years of fucking friendship because you got some idiotic notion that this chick would even let you sniff her panties, let alone fuck her?
Holden: Look fucking asshole, I’m telling you, okay, let it go!
Banky: What the fuck, man! What the fuck makes this bitch all that important?
Holden: 'Cause I’m fucking in love with her, man, okay?!

Holden: It’s unfair that I’m in love with you?
Alyssa: No, it’s unfortunate that you’re in love with me. It’s unfair that you felt the fucking need to unburden your soul about it. Do you remember for a fucking second who I am?
Holden: So? People change.
Alyssa: Oh, it’s that simple? You fall in love with me and want a romantic relationship, nothing changes for you with the exception of feeling hunky- dorey all the time. But what about- me? It’s not that simple, is it? I can’t just get into a relationship with you without throwing my whole fucking world into upheaval!
Holden: But that’s every relationship! There’s always going to be a period of adjustment.
Ayssa: Period of adjustment?!?
(she startsw to hit him)
Alyssa: THERE’S NO ‘PERIOD OF ADJUSTMENT’ HOLDEN! I’M FUCKING GAY! THAT’S WHO I AM! AND YOU ASSUME I CAN TURN THAT AROUND JUST BECAUSE YOU’VE GOT A CRUSH?!?[/b]

Well, maybe she can.

[b]Dalia: Why are you playing the pronoun game?
Alyssa: What? What are you talking about? I’m not even.
Dalia: You are. “I met someone.” "We have a great time. “They’re from my home town.” Doesn’t this tube of wonderful have a name!
Alyssa [after a pause]: Holden.
Jane: Oh, Alyssa - no. Not you!
Tory: Another one bites the dust.

Holden: Why me? Why now? I’m a guy. You’re attracted to girls.
Alyssa: I’ve given that a lot of thought, you know? I mean, now that I’m being ostracized by my friends, I’ve had a lot of time to think about all of this. And what I’ve come up with is really simple: I came to this on my terms. I didn’t just heed what I was taught, you know? Men and women should be together, it’s the natural way - that kind of thing. I’m not with you because of what family, society, life tried to instill in me from day one. The way the world is - how seldom you meet that one person who gets you… it’s so rare. My parents didn’t really have it. There was no example set for me in the world of male/female relation ships. And to cut oneself off from finding that person - to immediately half your options by eliminating the possibility of finding that one person within your own gender… that just seemed stupid. So I didn’t. And by leaving my options open, I was branded ‘gay’, which to me was no big deal - labels are labels, you know? They define what you do, not who you are, I guess. But then you come along. You - the one least likely; I mean, you were a guy.
Holden: Still am.
Alyssa: And while I was falling for you, I put a ceiling on that, because you were a guy. Until I remembered why I opened the door to women in the first place - to not limit the likelihood of finding that one person who’d compliment me so completely. And so here we are, I was thorough when I looked for you, and I feel justified lying in your arms - because I got here on my terms, and have no question that there was someplace I didn’t look. And that makes all the difference.[/b]

Makes sense. But not to those embedded in the politics of it all.

[b]Holden [to Alyssa]: What’s, uh, what’s with “finger cuffs”?

Holden: There’s a world of fucking difference between typical high school sex and two guys at once! They fucking used you?
Alyssa: No! I used them! You don’t think I would’ve let it happen if I hadn’t’ve wanted to? Do you? I was an experimental girl for Christ sake! Maybe you knew early on that your track was from point A to B, but unlike you I was not given a fucking map at birth, so I tried it all! That is until we, that’s you and I, got together and suddenly I was sated! Can’t you take some fucking comfort in that? You turned out to be all I was ever looking for - the missing piece in the big fucking puzzle!

Alyssa: Do you mean to tell me that - while you have zero problem with me sleeping with half the women in New York City - you have some sort of half-assed, mealy-mouthed objection to pubescent antics, that took place almost ten years ago? What the fuck is your problem?!?[/b]

Should we start with nature or nurture?

[b]Jay [to Holden]: Holy fucking shit! Finger Cuffs? You’re dating Finger Cuffs, you silly son of a bitch?

Silent Bob: It was a mistake to leave her. I didn’t hate her. I wasn’t disgusted with her. I was afraid. At that moment, I felt small, like…like I’d lacked experience, like I’d never be on her level, like I’d never be enough for her or something like that, you know what I’m saying? But, what I did not get, she didn’t care. She wasn’t looking for that guy anymore. She was… she was looking for me, for the Bob. But, uh, by the time I figure this all out, it was too late, man. She moved on, and all I had to show for it was some foolish pride, which then gave way to regret. She was the girl, I know that now. But I pushed her away. So, I’ve spent every day since then chasing Amy… so to speak.[/b]

That’s probably it, right?

[b]Alyssa: Fuck you.
Banky: Not even if you let me video tape it.

Alyssa [after Holden asks her to have sex with him and Banky]: Oh Holden. That time is over for me. I’ve been there. I’ve done it. And I didn’t find what I was looking for in any of it. I found that in you - in us. Doing this won’t help you forget about the things you’re hung up on. It’ll create more. Maybe you’ll see me differently from then on - maybe you’ll despise me for going along with it, once you’re in the moment. Maybe I’ll moan differently and then you’ll resent Banky, and become suspicious of us. Or you’ll alienate him because of it, and then grow to blame and hate me for the deterioration of your friendship. Or what if- I sincerely doubt it, but what if - I saw something in Banky that I never saw before, and fell in love with him and left you. I’ve been down roads like this before; many times. I know you feel doing this will broaden your horizons and give you experience. But I’ve had those experiences on my own. I can’t accompany you on your’s. I’m past that now. Or maybe I just love you too much. And I feel hurt and let down that you’d want to share me with anyone. Because I never wanted to share you. Regardless I can’t be a part of this. Or you. Not anymore. I love you. I always will. Know that.
[she then slaps him in the face]
Alyssa: But I’m not your fucking whore.[/b]

This is really much closer to the truth for most of us: It’s always never nothing. Something will come along and it will start it unraveling.

Alyssa [to Banky]: He’s yours again.

In order to have a better understanding of the man, you have to have a better understanding of the child growing into one. Works that way for women too. In fact it works that way for everyone.

The more famous you become though the more others want to know the real you. But unless you are that person how closely are you ever likely to come? So folks watch films like this hoping to at least get nearer to it. Especially when the man is someone you have come to truly admire. If only from your own perspective. They never take you in anywhere near as far as you want to go. Let alone think you need to go.

This particular film takes us back to the beginning of John Lennon’s transformation into adulthood. The years before the Beatles. Down into the parts that made the Beatles what they became. And I say that because, as far as I am concerned, John Lennon was the Beatles. The others were just along for the ride. The mystery seems to revolve around Julia. Where would John be without her? And why wasn’t John with her all the time? You can’t really sort these things out though. Not neatly. If nothing else, this film shows that.

Always recognizing of course the manner in which I construe him [or her] will become as idealized as so many others. He is who I wanted him to be because in so many ways I never became who I wanted me to be. It’s just a goddamn shame his Mum had to die before all the rest of it came to pass.

IMDb

Although the film is about John Lennon, best known for being the founding member of The Beatles, the film doesn’t mention the bands name throughout the whole film.

It does come close once though.

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nowhere_Boy
trailer: youtu.be/3bE0PF09yy0

John Lennon’s “Mother”: youtu.be/NkOoZDK7Rz8
John Lennon’s “Julia”: youtu.be/l0shbwip_sI

NOWHERE BOY [2009]
Written and directed by Sam Taylor-Johnson

[b]Headmaster: At this rate you’ll be lucky to find a job on the docks, because at the moment, you’re going nowhere. Nowhere.
John: Is “nowhere” full of geniuses, sir? Because then I probably do belong there.

Julia: Do you know what it means…rock and roll?
[John shakes his head]
Julia: Sex.

John: Why couldn’t God make me Elvis?
Julia: 'Cause he was saving you for John Lennon!

Mimi: No! This may be your life, one big common mess, but it is not going to be his life. Are you aware that he has been suspended?
Julia: Yes.
Mimi: Let’s go, John. I mean it!
[John looks at Julia, then shakes his head]
Julia: Get out of my house, Mimi!
[she hugs John]
Julia: My boy![/b]

Is this true, though? Is this the way it happened? Who is really to say? It’s not like this all unfolded in the presense of others.

John: Why do you know so much? I mean you don’t seem like the rock and roll kind of guy
Paul: What you mean because I don’t go around smashing things up and
[gulps]
Paul: Acting like a dick?
John: Yea.
Paul: No. It’s the music. That’s it, just music. Simple.

Not only that but he could tune the guitar.

[b]Julia [to Paul]: It’s not not fair. Your Mum being taken away from you.
John [to Julia]: She had cancer. What’s your excuse?

John: More talking? Wow. You see, me and Mum have had a bit of a heart to heart. Yes, she told me things about, oh, what’s his name? Alf. And about you, funnily enough. Yeah, she said you stole me. What do you reckon, Mimi, did you?
Julia: I never said that.
John: She said, quote, “She” as in you Mimi, “never gave you back.” Now when I don’t give things back, I’ve got to admit I’m usually stealing.
Mimi: What on earth have you been telling him, Julia?
[to John]
Mimi: Did she say why I stole you?
John: Well, there she is. Ask her yourself.
Mimi: Did she mention having another man’s child to deal with? Another daughter?
Julia: Mimi, please!
Mimi: What, stop? Do you think we can stop now?
John: What daughter?[/b]

And on and on and. It’s a pretty harrowing tale. But I can’t help but side with Julia because she is so much more free-spirited and radical than Mimi. But without Mimi John, might have ended up somewhere in New Zealand with “Alf”.

[b]John [to Mimi about Julia]: There’s just no point hating someone you love. I mean, really love.

[Paul strums Banjo softy]
John: What is this? Fucking group practice? I don’t think so.
Pete: John it’s your mum’s!
John: She’s fucking dead!
[headbutts pete and storms out]

John [being held by Paul]: I was just getting to know her.
Paul: I know.
John: She’s never coming back!
Paul: No, no she’s not.[/b]

This one gets tricky. Director Werner Herzog makes the claim this is not a remake of Abel Ferrara’s 1992 film Bad Lieutenant. But, hey, come on, it sure comes awful close at times. And while many consider this the superior product, it will probably always be too close to call for me. Just the part in the original where the Lieutenant is betting on the World Series makes that one a gem.

And Nicolas Cage here is no Harvey Keitel there. In my own opinion of course.

It’s all about the dope. And the dopes that push it. And the dopes that wage war on it.

Here’s a cop going after the scum of the earth. But in so many ways he’s scum too. He’s corrupt through and through but he’s also genuinely appalled at the sheer barbarity of the thuggery he has to witness. He really does want to bring something akin to justice to the families of the victims. So you are rooting for him and disgusted with him at the same time. As always: Sometimes Harry’s dirty, sometimes he’s not. It depends on who he is with.

And this is New Orleans. Post Katrina. Lots and lots of folks are “fucked up” here. But not many of them are interested in exploring the irony of it all…or in the idea of a double entendre.

IMDb

[b]In a June 2008 interview with The Guardian, Abel Ferrara, who directed and co-wrote the original Bad Lieutenant, said that finding out his movie was being remade was “a horrible feeling”, “like when you get robbed”, and that those involved in this remake “should all die in hell”. He also wondered how Nicolas Cage “can even have the nerve to play Harvey Keitel”, and called screenwriter William M. Finkelstein an idiot. Herzog responded that he had never seen the original and had never heard of Ferrara.

Although being promoted as a remake of Bad Lieutenant during its early production, director Werner Herzog claims that this is not a remake. He says he has never seen the original and therefore does not consider this movie a remake. Additionally, producers seemed to have added “Bad Lieutenant” to the title in order to get a better marketing. Whether remake, re-imagining, follow-up or none of the aforementioned, both movies are clearly connected by the basic plot of following a drug addicted, violent cop during his encounters with crime and sex.

Nicolas Cage claims that he was never under the influence of anything throughout filming, in contrast to Leaving Las Vegas in which he got genuinely drunk to play an alcoholic.[/b]

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Bad_Li … ew_Orleans
trailer: youtu.be/9OblPKObX6Q

BAD LIEUTENANT: PORT OF CALL NEW ORLEANS [2009]
Directed by Werner Herzog

Doctor: Well the good news, Terrence is, I’ll okay you to return to full duty. The bad news is in an all likelihood, you’ll be experiencing moderate to severe back pain.
Terence: How severe?
Doctor: You want to be taking something for it. I’m going to write you a prescription for Vicodin.
Terence: For how long?
Doctor: From now on.
Terence: No. For how long am I going to get pain? You mean for the rest of my life?
Doctor: Probably.

Trust me: That changes everything. Of course he does have access to heroin.

[b]Frankie’s “client”: Who are you?
Terence: I am the last person in the world you want me to be.

Terence [to an honest cop]: Isn’t this the same police department my father was in?

Terence: Everything I take is prescription - except for the heroin.

Terence [hallucinating from the dope]: What are these fuckin’ iguanas doing on my coffee table.
Stevie: There ain’t no iguana.
Terence: …Yeah, there are.
Stevie: There ain’t no iguana.
Terence: What the fuck is that?
[taps it]
Terence: Fuckin’ iguana.

Terence [to Midget]: It’s amazing how much you can get done when you got a simple purpose guiding you through life. My purpose is to find out who shot up this apartment…

Frankie: Just get me my money.
Justin: I usually pay when I’m done.
Terence: Done smacking her around?
Justin: It’s erotic shit, man. I didn’t hurt her.
Terence [throws him against the wall]: Just like I’m not hurting you.
Justin: Did I hurt-did I hurt you?
Frankie: Terence, let’s just go.
Terence: We don’t hit women down south.

Terence: Where’s your grandson, Bennie?
Grandmother: I don’t have to tell you anything.
Terence: Yeah, you do.
Grandmother: I haven’t done anything. My grandson haven’t done anything. If he don’t want to be witness, he doesn’t have to be a witness.
Terence: This is bigger than “want to”. This was a massacre. Children were executed.

Terence: Right now, I walk on about an hour and a half of sleep over the past 3 days. And I’m still trying to remain calm. I’m beginning to think though that that’s getting in the way of being effective.
[he takes out Antoinette’s breathing tube]
Grandmother: What are you doing?!
Terence: I want to know where Daryl is.
Grandmother: My God!
Terence: Nobody saw me coming. Nobody knows I’m here. This old woman is going to run out of air. And you’re going to have a tough time convincing people that It wasn’t you who did it to her. And even if…even if you convinced them that you didn’t kill her on purpose, you’re still going to have a tough time selling them that you took care of her worth a fuck. Now, listen to me. Where the fuck is he? I said where the fuck is he?
Grandmother: He’s on an aeroplane. Miss Antoinette had bought him a ticket. She sent him to live with her family in England.
[he puts the breathing tube back in]
Terence: It’s okay. There we go, that’s it. That’s a good girl. Let’s breathe.
[then he explodes]
Terence: You drop dead you selfish cunt! You ever think about your kids? Your grandkids? Sucking up their inheritance through that oxygen tube? And Bennie’s fucking intensive care. I hate you, I hate you both.
[he pulls his gun on them]
Terence: Right now, I should’ve fucking kill you. You’re the fucking reason this country going down to drain. [/b]

You try to sort out the morality of this exchange.

[b]Terence: You owe me 15,000. I’ll take 25% of the dope uncut.
Big Fate: That means you’re getting my price.
Terence: That’s one way of looking at it. The other is you get to keep 75%, and not go to prison for the rest of your life.

Terence: Shoot them again!
Midget: What for?
Terence: Their souls are still dancing!
[he laughs hysterically][/b]

Classic Nic Cage.

[b]Genevieve [watching Terence stash his dope]: You don’t have to hide it from me. We’re birds of a feather.

Terence [to Chavez]: Do fish have dreams?[/b]

They live on welfare. But this being Belgium the safety net is reliable enough to insure the baby they have is well care for. But even that can’t protect him from a father like Bruno. How bad is he? Well, even after subletting his girlfriend’s apartment to another couple he needs more cash…so he sells the baby.

But there’s Mom on the back of a friend’s motorbike racing down the highway with the baby in her arms. You just can’t help but weep at times for little Jimmy’s future.

Still, it’s clear that in other ways she is a loving mother. Bruno, on the other hand, is a piece of work. If there is to be a transformation here, it can only come from him. In the beginning though there’s no way you can react to him except as a scoundrel, a self-absorbed scumbag. But then gradually you find yourself thinking that maybe…maybe…he is just pathetic. That maybe one day he might even be willing to join the ranks of the “fuckers” who work.

As for Sonia, it’s hard to believe this is the same actor who played Laura in Mes Chères Etudes. Really hard to believe.

This film won the much coveted “Palme d’Or” award at the 2005 Cannes Film Festival.

IMDb

[b]Jimmy is played by 40 different babies.

There is no score in this film, not even during the credits. The only music heard is a recording of The Blue Danube playing on a car stereo.[/b]

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L’Enfant_(film
trailer: youtu.be/1nbBpVo9_pg

L’ENFANT [2005]
Written and directed by Jean-Pierre Dardenne, Luc Dardenne

[b]Sonia: Being a handyman could be fun.
Bruno: No way. Only fuckers work.

Sonia: Bruno, where’s Jimmy?
Bruno: I sold him.
Sonia: What do you mean, sold him?[/b]

After he explains the transaction to her as though he just sold a piece of furniture, Sonia loses consciousness and falls straight to the ground. Now he’s got to get the baby back. And that’s only the beginning.

Bruno [to nurse]: When Sonia wakes up, tell her that Bruno is going to bring Jimmy here.

Yep, another hitman. James Bond this time. So to speak. Only don’t call him that. Call him, say, “a facilitator of fatalities”. That’s from his handler.

Suave, sophisticated, witty as hell. Devilishly handsome. He only kills the ones who deserve to die. Not that that matters to him. He’s far more concerned with how old they are. The ones he beds not the ones he shoots dead. He’s practically a pedaphile.

Besides, most of his “gigs” are “corporate”. And that’s always been cutthroat.

Danny, of course, is meant to reflect [represent] all the rest of us. We are more or less ordinary folks living more or less ordinary lives with more or less ordinary jobs and more or less ordinary daily routines. But then one day James Bond meets Joe Blow and an improbable friendship ensues.

Now [six months later] they are back together. Julian needs Danny’s help to do “one more job.” Well, what’s one more anonymous dead man in this world? And this one has irony written all over it.

I like films able to effectively meld serious things with things that are mostly, well, funny. Even screamingly funny. They are entertaining as hell but you are still able to relate to the characters as more than just props for the next punchline. More or less.

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Matador
trailer: youtu.be/cClpPW1nyTw

THE MATADOR [2005]
WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY Richard Shepard

[b]Julian: I don’t know anything about that car. And I’d only be interested in your mother if she lost 20 pounds and 30 years, so I’d really like it if you got the fuck away from me.
Kid: Whatever.
Julian: Yeah, whatever. Goodbye. Scadoodle.
Kid: See you, wouldn’t wanna be you.
Julian: Smell ya, shouldn’t have to tell ya.

Hotel Bartender: Are you here for business or pleasure, sir?
Julian: My business is my pleasure.

Julian [to Mr. Randy after flirting with some Mexican schoolgirls]: I hate Catholic countries. It’s always blushy-blushy, no sucky-fucky.

Julian: Margaritas always taste better in Mexico.
Danny: They certainly do.
Julian: Margaritas and cock.[/b]

He’s just messing with him.

[b]Julian [to Danny who is walking away]: Don’t you want to hear the punchline?!

Julian: A great matador…he can kill the bull with one plunge of the blade. A lessor one, he’s going to have to plunge that blade more than once. That makes the crowd very unhappy. They don’t like to see the bull suffer.
Danny [sarcastically]: No. No, no, no. They clearly care so very much about these animals.
Julian: They respect these beasts. They want them to die with honor.
Danny: That’s ridiculous. There’s no honor in being killed by a man with a sword whether it’s one plunge or twenty.
Julian: Ah, but you’re wrong. You are very wrong. There is honor.
Danyy: How would you know?

Julian [to Danny]: Sometimes…sometimes people need to be eliminated.

Julian: I am a big fan of the “Everybody’s got to pee” theory of assassination.
Danny: Gotta pee?
Julian: Everybody’s got to pee.

Julian [teaching an incredulous Danny how to be an assassin]: Now, escape routes.
Danny: Escape routes?
Julian: Well you don’t want to get caught right?
Danny: Oh, right.
Julian: Don’t get caught. It sucks.

Danny [still discussing possible escape routes]: That door over there, if it weren’t locked.
Julian Noble: A Vietnamese girl I once knew had her legs so locked together I couldn’t get a whiff of her spring roll. Two drinks, half a quaalude later, I was at an all you can eat buffet.

Julian [to Danny]: Don’t get the wrong impression. Just because we shared a few laughs doesn’t mean I’m not unsavory.

Danny: You’re kidding right now.
Julian: I’m as serious as an erection problem.

Mr. Randy: Goddamn it, Julian, you leave the game, even for a while, I don’t know if they’ll gonna let you back in. And then what the hell are you gonna do? Waste your days picking up illiterate teenagers for suck-and-fuck sessions behind the Old Navy store?
Julian: Sounds delightful to me.

Bean [to Danny after the doorbell rings]: Who could that be at 11:30 at night?

Bean: You said he was a nice guy.
Danny: He is. For an assassin he’s a very nice guy.
Bean: Fuck. Fuckity-fuck.
[Danny looks surprised]
Bean: What? I’m allowed to curse. Especially now. If not now, when? This is the fucking perfect time to be fucking cursing. There’s a fucking killer standing in our fucking living room…Do you think he would show me his gun?

Danny: So what happened?
Julian: I fainted. I woke up in a pile of donkey shit.

Danny [after just learning Julian lied about having a wife]: So, what other bullshit did you pour over me, Julian?
Bean: Yeah, are you even a hitman?

Julian: I lie when I need to, tell the truth when I can.

Julian: An assassin without confidence is a horrible thing to behold. It’s like a relief pitcher who fumbles the ball.
Danny: Please tell me you know you mixed two sports in a metaphor.
Julian: Huh? Yeah, I can’t do that?

Julian: You think if you hadn’t opened that door down in Mexico City you and I would be here right now?
Danny: Probably not.

Julian: Can you live with that blood on your hands?
Danny: Isn’t that what people…successful people…do, live with blood on their hands?[/b]

Nope. Not the ones with a…conscience? Not the ones with a loving wife at home.

Human identity.

As some well know, this fascinates me more than any other topic of discussion here. Philosophically, psychologically or otherwise. How [why] do we come to think of ourselves one way rather than another? And is there a way this can be understood wholly? Or will it always just come down to conflicting points of view?

I posit “dasein”. This seems the most reasonable manner in which to understand identity as a fabrication, an ever-evolving existential narrative rooted in nature and nurture, in history and culture and personal experience. In language. In political economy. In contingency chance and change. In being and nothingness.

This is a film about identity. But in some respects I cannot quite wrap my head around the narrative. I’m just not sure what to make of it. I don’t know if I agree or disagree with the premise because I’m just not really sure I “get it”. Here are two brothers who marvel at how much alike they look. Only one is a black man and the other is white. They look absolutely nothing alike. But the whole point of the film revolves around everyone else thinking that they do. Or, as Roger Ebert notes, “[a]t this point, a critic for a quarterly magazine might slide comfortably into phrases about the slippery essence of human identity…”

I’m reasonably sure though the import of the “message” is not really what I am getting at at all. Perhaps even the opposite: that there is always a part of our identity that can neither be taken away nor duplicated. Our "person"ality. But my own inquiries are oriented more toward the values we acquire out in a world where conflicted values are reconcilable with conflicting goods.

Of course identity in the modern world is always [sooner or later] about money. Whoever you think you are and however you came to think that way it always helps if there is lots of it around. Then there are all the things we will do to others [and others to us] to keep it that way.

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suture_(film
trailer: youtu.be/tmve9RwIh5g

SUTURE [1993]
Written and directed by Scott McGehee, David Siegel

[b]Narrator: How is it that we know who we are? We might wake up in the night disoriented and wonder where we are. We may have forgotten where the window or the door or the bathroom is…or who is sleeping beside us. We may think perhaps that we have lived through what we have just dreamed…or we may wonder if we are now still dreaming. But we never wonder who we are. However confused we might be about the particulars of our existence, we always know that it is us, that we are now who we have always been. We never wake up and wonder, “who am I?” Because our knowledge of who we are is mediated by what we doctors of the mind call our self-schemata, the richest, most complex and most stable memory structures we have. They are the structures which connect us to our past and allow us to imagine our futures. To lose those connections would be a sign of pathology, a pathology called amnesia.

Vincent: Crime isn’t so much a problem here. It’s just a fact. Each man has his own jungle. It’s just a matter of understanding it and knowing where one fits in.

Vincent [on phone]: Clay, Im sorry.
Clay: What?
Vincent: I was trapped. There was no other way out.
Clay: What are you talking about?
Vincient: I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry, Clay.
Clay: Vincent? Vincent?[/b]

Boom.

[b]Shrink [to Clay thinking he is Vincent]: Vincent, you have the opportunity to see your past in whatever light you choose. But for the future to begin you need to understand the past you have created.

Alice: Maybe it’s time for you to go home. But you’re going home unequiped. You don’t know what you need to know.
Clay [thinking he is Vincent]: I don’t know anything.
Alice: No. You simply can’t remember. You can’t remember the man you were, the way you were, the actions you took, the things you did, the things you said…But you will remember. You will remember everything.[/b]

And what a shock that would be: remembering you are really someone else. That’s the kicker here. All these people want him to regain the memories of a man he never was!

Shrink: As Freud said, nothing is insignificant.

But first you have to know who you are saying this to. And even he doesn’t know that.

[b]Witness: His look was just different. I don’t think he was the same man.
Detective: This particular man has had extensive plastic surgery due to an accident…his face is going to seem, might seem to be a little different.
Witness: Then how do you expect me to identify him?
Lawyer: Precisely. It boggles the mind.

Shrink: You just got finished telling me that you are Clay Arlington.
Clay [after having just killed Vincent]: No. I told you I remember another past…when I was Clay Arlington.
Shrink: If your memory has returned don’t you think it might be useful now to integrate that past into your life?
Clay: Which past?
Shrink: The past you know to be your own.
Clay: It’s all my past. Who was hounded by the police? Who was dragged though a lineup?
Shrink: But that was all just a terrible mistake.
Clay: I look in the mirror I see Vincent Towers. When I go to the club people call me Vincent Towers. Renee’s in love with Vincent Towers.
Shrink: Clay, we’re talking about two distinct lives.
Clay: And one is gone. There’s a dead body that can’t be identified. In a most real way it is not the body of Vincent Towers. I am Vincent Towers.

Shrink [voiceover]: He is not Vincent Towers. He is Clay Arlington. He may dress in Vincent’s fine clothes, drive Vincent’s expensive cars, play golf at Vincent’s country club or use Vincent’s box at the opera but this will not make him Vincent Towers. He can never be Vincent Towers simply because he is not. Nothing can change this, not the material comforts afford him or the love that Renee may provide. And if by some chance over the cries of his true ego he is able to achieve happiness, it will be false…empty. For he has buried the wrong life, the wrong past…buried his soul. He has lost all that makes life worth living. Of this we can be completely certain.[/b]

Buried the wrong soul? Right. And certainty can always be just a point of view.

If you can’t have actual terrorist threats on the ground you can always make them up in the movies. Either way it helps to remind us that the government can never spend too much money going after them. Or that no civil liberty is ever really worth risking our lives for. Even now there is a brand new “threat” being bandied about in the media. Ominous “chatter” from al-Qaida.

And what a charming and dashing young terrorist Jackson turns out to be. And he’s not even an Arab this time.

Apparently though he is only a “manager”. He is employed by folks the politics of which we are not really privy to. It could be something analogous to jihad or it could be some domestic extremists or it could be someone who has a personal grudge against the guy who runs the Homeland Security office. But the ones pulling the trigger did sound supiciously…foreign. The important thing is this: THE TERRORISTS ARE STILL OUT THERE! SO BE AFEAID…BE VERY AFRAID!!

How improbable is it all? Well, for terrorists, if there’s a will there’s a way. For the movie terrorists anyway. But setting it all in motion is not the same as pulling it off. Not when you’re up against a hotel employee who may well be the next 007.

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Eye_(2 … rican_film
trailer: youtu.be/GMMGg_idxqE

RED EYE [2005]
Directed by Wes Craven

[b]Cynthia: God they totally threw me. They were such assholes.
Lisa: Cynthia, there are no guests who are assholes. Only guests with special needs.

Lisa: Is it Jack for short?
Jackson: No. I haven’t gone by Jack since I was ten years old. Last name’s Rippner.
Lisa: Jack Rippner… Jack theee… oooohhhh.
Jackson: There you go.
Lisa: That wasn’t very nice of your parents.
Jackson: That’s what I told them. Before I killed them.

Lisa [on the plane]: So what is it you do?
Jackson: Government overthrows, flashy high-profile assassinations. The usual.
Lisa: O.K. Why don’t you just tell me what you do?
Jackson: I already did.

Jackson: Lisa, whatever female-driven, emotion-based dilemma you may be dealing with right now, you have my sympathy. But for the sake of time and sanity, let’s break this down into a little male-driven fact-based logic. One simple phone call saves your dad’s life.

Jackson [smirking darkly at Lisa]: That was very clever, Leese. Taking some stress management courses? When we get out of this, I may have to steal you.

Jackson: You know what I think?
[slams her against the wall]
Jackson: I think you’re not such an honest person. Because I’ve been following you for eight weeks now, and I never once saw you order anything but a fucking Sea Breeze!

Lisa [referring to the scar on her chest]: It happened in the parking lot… the scar… two years ago. In the middle of the day… he held a knife to my throat the whole time. Ever since I’ve been trying to convince myself of one thing over and over…
Jackson: That it was beyond your control?
Lisa: No… that it would never happen again.
[she stabs him in the neck with a pen]

Kid [to friend]: Well, there’s your pen, dude.

Lisa: Where’s your male-driven, fact-based logic now, Jack?

Marianne Taylor [after the bomb blast]: Lisa! Do you have any idea what we’ve been through? First, there was no reservation.
[Lisa smiles forcedly at Cynthia]
Marianne Taylor: Then, our ceiling exploded. I got chunks of plaster all over me. I could get asthma.
Lisa: I’m so sorry, Mrs. Taylor. Is there anything we can do to make it up to you?
Marianne Taylor: Yes. Start by cleaning house. Get rid of her. She is completely useless.
Bob Taylor: Absolutely. And cheeky, too.
Lisa: I see. Well…
[she looks over at Cynthia, then to the Taylors]
Lisa: Here’s what you can do. You can fill out a comment card at our front desk.
Marianne Taylor: A comment card?
[indignantly to Bob]
Marianne Taylor: She asked us to fill out a comment card.
Bob Taylor: You want us to fill out a comment card?
Lisa: Yes, I do. And after you’ve finished, you can go ahead and just shove it up your ass.
[both Taylors are struck dumb by this sentence]
Cynthia: Yeah.
[as she walks away with Lisa, arm in arm]
Cynthia: You are so my hero.[/b]

Let’s get this woman a cape…like immediately!

Lovable rogues. And drop dead gorgeous to boot. Katherine Ross must have thought she died and gone to heaven.

It’s practically a situation comedy.

Of course if you saw The Wild Bunch you saw another side of them. But this one is rated PG. The irony being that the whole point of The Wild Bunch [as John Waynes laments above] was to blast mythologies like this clean out of the water.

But, let’s face it, we all wish we could find a BFF like these dudes did. Not that I know a damned thing about the way it was in “real life”.

Bottom line: Some films are just plain entertaining. Here we come to like both protagonists. They are witty, charming, engaging. Their repartee is spot on. They live outside the law and play by their own rules. The future may be fast closing in on them but they’ll go out with a bang. It’s banter and bravado right to the bitter end.

Sure, there’s a part of us that knows there are other parts they don’t show us. All the blood and guts stuff that mostly gets swept under the rug. But fuck it. Leave that for others.

IMDb

[b]The more commonly used name for Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid’s gang was The Wild Bunch. However, when the Sam Peckinpah film, The Wild Bunch, was released a few months earlier, the name of the gang was changed to the Hole in the Wall Gang to avoid confusion with Peckinpah’s film.

The true identity of the historical person known as “Etta Place” is unknown. Historians have many different theories, a popular one being that she was Fort Worth innkeeper Eunice Gray, who died in a fire in 1962.

Though Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were reported killed in San Vicente, Bolivia, on November 7, 1908, the location of their grave has been lost. This has resulted in a long-lived conspiracy theory that their deaths were faked, or that two other men were killed and misidentified as them. Until the 1930s, several eyewitness claims reported encountering one or both men, yet the chronology and geography of the claims are often mutually exclusive. A handwriting expert has claimed that Spokane auto mechanic William T. Philips, who died in 1937, wrote in Cassidy’s hand, yet other historians insists that Philips’ and Cassidy’s known whereabouts on a certain date mark them as separate individuals.[/b]

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butch_Cass … ndance_Kid

BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID [1969]
Directed by George Roy Hill

[b]Butch: What happened to the old bank? It was beautiful.
Guard: People kept robbing it.
Butch: Small price to pay for beauty.

Card player: Well, looks like you just about cleaned everybody out, fella. You haven’t lost a hand since you got to deal. What’s the secret of your success?
Sundance [pause]: Prayer.

Butch: Boy, you know every time I see Hole-in-the-Wall again, it’s like seeing it fresh for the first time. And every time that happens, I keep asking myself the same question: how could I be so damn stupid to keep coming back here?
Sundance: What’s your idea this time?

Sundance: You just keep on thinking, Butch. That’s what you’re good at.

Butch: Woodcook?! Is that you?!

Butch: Well, that ought to do it.
[he blows the train car to smithereens]
Sundance: Think ya used enough dynamite there, Butch?

Butch: Now what the hell is that?

Butch: How many are following us?
Sundance: All of 'em.

Sundance: Which way?
Butch: It doesn’t matter. I don’t know where we’ve been and I’ve just been there.

Butch: Who are those guys?

Butch: Once they divide up, we take them, no trouble, right?
Sundance: Maybe.
Butch: Boy, for a gunman, you’re one hell of a pessimist.

Sheriff Bledsoe [to Butch and Sundance]: You should have let yourself get killed a long time ago when you had the chance. See, you may be the biggest thing that ever hit this area, but you’re still two-bit outlaws. I never met a soul more affable than you, Butch, or faster than the Kid, but you’re still nothing but two-bit outlaws on the dodge. It’s over, don’t you get that? Your times is over and you’re gonna die bloody, and all you can do is choose where.

Butch: Ah, you’re wasting your time. They can’t track us over rocks.
Sundance: Tell them that.

Butch [to Sundance]: Kid, the next time I say, “Let’s go someplace like Bolivia,” let’s GO someplace like Bolivia.

Butch: They’ll never follow us.
Sundance: How do you know?
Butch: Would you jump if you didn’t have to?
Sundance: I have to and I’m not gonna.

Butch: Alright. I’ll jump first.
Sundance: No.
Butch: Then you jump first.
Sundance: No, I said.
Butch: What’s the matter with you?
Sundance: I can’t swim.
Butch: Are you crazy? The fall will probably kill you.

Butch [to Sundance]: If Harriman would just pay me what he’s spending to make me stop robbing him, I’d stop robbing him!

Sundance: You say they’re hired permanent?
Etta: No, just till they kill you.

Butch: You know, it could be worse. You get a lot more for your money in Bolivia, I checked on it.
Sundance: What could they have here that you could possibly want to buy?
Butch: Geez. All of Bolivia couldn’t look like this.
Sundance: How do you know? This might be the garden spot of the whole country. People might travel hundreds of miles just to get to the spot where we’re standing now. This might be the Atlantic City, New Jersey of all Bolivia as far as you know.
Butch [to Etta]: He’ll feel a lot better after he’s robbed a couple of banks.

Etta: “This is a robbery”…Esto es un robo. “Raise your hands”…Las manos arriba…“All of you back against the wall.”…“Give me the money”.

Sundance [to Butch]: Who am I, Smith or Jones?

Butch [to Sundance]: The specialty of the house and it’s still moving.

Butch [in a gunfight]: We’re going to run out of ammo unless we can get to that mule and get some more.
Sundance: I’ll go.
Butch: This is no time for bravery. I’ll let ya.

Butch: Is that what you call giving cover?
Sundance: Is that what you call running?[/b]

If you are going to commit suicide, you can pick worse ways to do it. Or, sure, better ways.

How can someone barely able to imagine what it must be like inside Ben’s head pass judgment on his behavior? We do get a few glimpses…clues. The photo of a wife and child going up in flames. But it could really be practically anything. My only reservation was involving the public. And falling in love. If you want to be oblivious unto oblivion do it in the privacy of your own tiny apartment. Let them find you days, weeks, months later. Alone, loathsome and quite dead.

The whole point is being oblivious to all the things you want and need to be oblivious to.

At least that’s the plan. Well, someone’s plan I’m sure.

The guy who wrote the novel the film is based on committed suicide a couple of weeks after finding out it was being made into a movie. His father said that he said it could serve as his suicide note to the world.

As for Sera with an E, lots of them around too. Is there anything new to say about it? Or Yuri. The good news here is he’s out of the picture before you know it. And none too soon. But each one of us is still on our own individual trajectory from the cradle to the grave. Way beyond trying to pin down…rationally.

Anyway, this may well be the most improbable love affair you could ever imagine. Or, perhaps, in Las Vegas, it happens every day.

IMDb

[b]Author John O’Brien, on whose novel this movie is based, committed suicide two weeks after the movie went into production. Director Mike Figgis contemplated abandoning the project, but decided the film would make a good memorial for O’Brien.

To get ready for his role, Nicolas Cage would film himself drunk to study his speech patterns.

Ben doesn’t eat a single thing during the entire film. This reinforces his dependence on alcohol as chronic alcoholics usually forget to eat or can’t force food down. During the restaurant scene he puts spaghetti on his fork but doesn’t eat it. And when Sera fixes him rice, he eats an ice cube instead

The bartender at the breakfast/biker bar that wipes the blood from Ben’s face is played by Julian Lennon, son of John Lennon.[/b]

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leaving_Las_Vegas
trailer: youtu.be/UMlYWZgCIgo

[b]Note: some explicit language[/b]

LEAVING LAS VEGAS [1995]
Written and directed by Mike Figgis

[b]Ben: I don’t remember if my wife left me because I started drinking or I started drinking 'cause my wife left me.

Ben: I understand what you’re saying. I appreciate your concern. It’s not my intention to make you uncomfortable. Please, serve me today, and I’ll never come in here again. If I do, you can 86 me.
Bartender: Stop fucking with me Ben! I can 86 you anytime I want to. Hey, I don’t give a fuck what you do. That one’s on the house, son.

Ben [in his head to a bank teller]: Are you desirable? Are you irresistible? Maybe if you drank bourbon with me, it would help. Maybe if you kissed me and I could taste the sting in your mouth it would help. If you drank bourbon with me naked. If you smelled of bourbon as you fucked me, it would help. It would increase my esteem for you. If you poured bourbon onto your naked body and said to me “drink this”. If you spread your legs and you had bourbon dripping from your breasts and your pussy and said “drink here” then I could fall in love with you. Because then I would have a purpose. To clean you up and that, that would prove that I’m worth something. I’d lick you clean so that you could go away and fuck someone else.

Ben: Hi, Bill.
Bill [his boss]: Take a seat. Ben, we’re gonna let you go.
[he hands Ben an envelope]
Ben: This is too generous, Bill.
Bill: We really liked having you around, but you know how it is. I’m sorry. What are you gonna do now?
Ben: I thought…I thought I’d move out to Las Vegas.

Sera: That was a red light. I walk, you stop. Are you sorry?
Ben: Yeah.
Sera: Good.
[She walks away…then flips him the bird]

Sera [to Ben]: Wow, what this room needs is more booze.

Sera: For 500 bucks, you can do pretty much whatever you want. You can fuck my ass.
Ben: Oh, my God!
Sera: You can come on my face.
Ben: Oh!
Sera: Whatever you want to do. Just keep it out of my hair. I just washed it.

Sera: What’s the story? Are you too drunk to come?
Ben: I don’t care about any of that. There’s time left. You can have more money. You can drink all you want. Just stay. That’s what I want. I want you to talk or listen. Just stay.

Sera: So, Ben with an “N”…what brings you to Las Vegas? Business convention?
Ben: No, I came here to drink myself to death. Cashed in all my money, paid my American Express card…gonna sell my car tomorrow.
Sera: So, how long will it take you to…drink yourself to death?
Ben: I think about four weeks.

Yuri [to Sera]: Get out. Do not come back here. I’ll not see you again.

Sera: So why are you a drunk?
Ben: Why am I a drunk? Is that really what you wanna ask me?
Sera: Yes.
Ben: Well, then, this is our first date, or our last. Until now I wasn’t sure it was either.
Sera: First. It’s our first.

Sera: Is drinking a way of killing yourself?
Ben: Or, is killing myself a way of drinking?

Ben: Don’t you think you’d get a little bored, living with a drunk?
Sera: Well… that’s what I want.
Ben: You haven’t seen the worst of it. I knock things over… throw up all the time. These past few days I’ve been very controlled. You’re like some sort of antidote that mixes with the liquor and keeps me in balance. But, that won’t last forever.

Sera [to Ben]: All right, you go back to your motel. I’ll go back to my glamorous life of being alone. The only thing I have to come home to is a bottle of mouthwash… to take the taste of cum out of my mouth. I’m tired of being alone. That’s what I’m tired of.

Sera: Don’t you like me, Ben?
Ben: Sera…what you don’t understand is - no, see, no.
Sera: What?
Ben: You can never, never ask me to stop drinking. Do you understand?
Sera: I do. I really do.

Ben: I’ll tell you, right now… I’m in love with you. But, be that as it may, I am not here to force my twisted soul into your life.

Ben [to Sera]: We both know that I’m a drunk. And I know you are a hooker. I hope you understand that I am a person who is totally at ease with that. Which is not to say that I’m indifferent or I don’t care, I do. It simple means that I trust and accept your judgment.
Sera: I was really worried about how that would be…but now I’m not. But you should know that included with the rent around here is a complimentary blow job.

Ben: I hadn’t planned to gamble but if you could keep the bulk of my money I could safely blow a couple hundred bucks. Giving you money makes me want to come.
Sera: Then come.

Sera: I want you to see a doctor.
Ben: Sera, I’m not gonna see a doctor. Maybe it’s time I moved to a hotel.
Sera: And do what? Rot away in a room? We’re not gonna talk about that. Fuck you. You’re staying here. You’re not going to any motel. It’s just one thing you can do for me. That’s all I ask. I’ve given you gallons of free will. You can do this one thing for me!

Ben: Perhaps I could crash on the couch for a few hours and then leave.
Sera: Get out.

Ben [to Sera as he is dying]: See how hard you make me, angel?

Sera [to shrink]: I think the thing is we both realized that we didn’t have that much time and I accepted him for who he was. I didn’t expect him to change. I think he felt that for me too. I liked his drama. And he needed me. I loved him. I really loved him.[/b]

It’s hard to believe the guy who directed this film was the one at the Republican National Convention…the one up on the stage talking to an empty chair. And not too many black folks out in the audience applauding him either. And the sound track was about as far removed from bebop as it could get.

Funny world, isn’t it?

Pain. And what to do about it. And here one size hardly ever fits all. And that [sometimes] is where the dope comes in. It just goes around and around when you’re in pain. If that’s the reason you use it. There’s always the part about the pleasure you get too. Again, you’d have to be him to really understand how all the variables fall into place. And he was, after all, a great “artist”. An innovator. For some that’s dispensation enough. Bebop. It’s a whole other world for most of us. Disorienting, for example.

So, I’m in way over my head here. How close or how far it is from the “real thing”? I just don’t know. But there are always going to be the parts that, up to a point, we can recognize in the characters. The parts we wish we could be more like ourselves, the parts we’re eternally grateful we never will.

To wit: He’s brilliant. But’s he’s a real pain in the ass. Nobody interested in making money is willing to put up with all the shit they have to endure to employ him. And then there’s the law. They hound him for “fixing”. And the turmoil they cause in his life just makes him need a fix all the more. And then that’s before we get to all the stuff I can’t even think of.

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bird_(film
trailer: youtu.be/fS0M-GjgEi8

BIRD [1988]
Directed by Clint Eastwood

[b]Title card: “There are no second acts in American lives.” F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Bird: Guess who stopped in tonight? My ulcers. I gave them some codeine but they wouldn’t go away.

Chan: That was stupid. Now I’ll have to call an ambulance.

Doctor [reading a chart]: “Case number 1540: Patient admitted to psychiatric at request of wife following suicide attempt by ingestion of iodine. Patient has a past history of, quote, nervous breakdown, unquote, for which he was hospitalized in California for 8 months. The wife says this attempt was related to depression over the recent death of their daughter and also by reverses in, quote, his career. End of quote.”

Chan [to Doctor]: When all else fails, what he’ll do is provoke a fight. If he can’t afford to get drunk, the substitute is pain. It takes his mind off things for a while. There was a time he could do that with conversation…but not since the ulcers stated bleeding.

Chan: Oh, by the way, Dizzy sent you a birthday card. So I guess he’s back in town. Do you owe him a phone call?
Bird: I owe Dizzy everything…except a phone call.

Chan: Well, there’s the suicide room.

Bird: There’s one night in my life I never want to forget. I never want to go through it again. I was 15…and I woke up feeling more pain than I’ve ever felt. I didn’t know why until somebody told me I was strung out. Somebody had to tell me that.

Chan [to Bird]: I don’t want to make anybody feel peaceful, man. I was born to drive men crazy!

Chan: What I mean by my type…
Bird: …is the type you don’t have to be faithful to.

Chan [aloud to herself]: Oh, no. He hocked his horn to rent that damned horse.

Doctor [reading from Bird’s chart]: “Contibuting factors to patient’s nervous breakdown in California, winter 1946, were as follows: A: Disorientation due to unfamiliar surroundings. B: Disappointing public reaction, bordering on hostility, to patient’s particular style of music. C: Reduced availability of narcotics due to police crackdown.”

Dizzy: I guess they weren’t quite ready to be invaded out here.
Bird: I thought we had a radio gig tomorrow.
Dizzy: We did, Yard, we did. But the station joined in the ban. “Bebop tends to pervert young minds.”
Bird: Who said that?
Dizzy: Somebody with enough juice to get 12 radio stations to turn us off.

Chan: Take a look at her at least!

Esteves: I’ve been on your case now for 10 years. I never seen you worse. You can’t play more than 3 nights a month in New York and New York is the only place you can work. Not an owner on the road will take the chance anymore.

Esteves: Bird, you’re an alcoholic, you’re a junkie…and your mind is hanging by a fucking thread.[/b]

So play ball with the law.

[b]Benny: What the fuck you want to go back to New York for?
Bird: Because:
Benny: “Because.” You know, I been here four years. I work ten months out of the year. More, if I want to. Go to Belgium, Holland, Sweden. You could do the same. You know, I don’t go for that shit you people play but over here they are crazy about it. Now you don’t get rich, but you live. And they treat you like a man.

Benny: You can’t earn no living…playing jazz…in the States.

Benny: Everybody says that what you do on the bandstand is great. You the man. Until you mess up. And you always mess up. You mess up over there, you’ll be in trouble so deep they won’t even let you play in the goddman place they named after you in the first place. Now, am I lying?

Bird: There’s going to be a Birdland in every city one day. There’s gonna be a Birdland in Chicago, a Birdland in Detroit, a Birdland right across the street from Camarillo. I am the liberator of Paris and you are a motherfucking afterthought!

Bird: Oh, God. Red. Not you, man.
Red: Why not me?
Bird: If you want to play like Bird, you gotta shoot shit like Bird? Is that what you thought? Is that what they told you?
Red: I don’t remember.
Bird: No! No!
[he grabs him and pins him to the wall]
Bird: It don’t help, man. It don’t help. Don’t you know that?
Red: I know now.

Red: It’s not your fault. I know a thousand guys who fix.
Bird: Yeah. A thousand easy.

Chan: Damn. All those records you sold!
Bird: I made them. Somebody else done sold them.

Bird: Ain’t it a bitch? I go to a liver doctor and I pay him $50. And it don’t help me. I go to an ulcer doctor…same thing, except I pay him $75. But I go to some little cat up in a house somewhere and pay him $10 for a bag of shit and a little peace…my ulcers don’t hurt, liver don’t hurt. My heart trouble is gone. And this is the man I’m supposed to stay away from? Mr. Gillespie, my comrade in arms, that is what I call…a paradox.

Dizzy: No, no, what you’re really asking me is how come when I’m supposed to hit at 9:30, I hit at 9:30? How come I can land on a cat I love as much as I love you and then fire his ass for showing up late or stoned? Why I can hold a group together? Why I’m a leader?
Bird: Yeah, that’s what I’m asking.
Dizzy: Because they don’t expect me to be. Because, deep down, they like it if the nigger turns out unreliable. Because that’s the way they think it’s supposed to be. And because I won’t give give the satisfaction of being right.

Dizzy: They gonna talk about you when you’re dead, Bird. More than they do now. They gonna shovel you under like they love to do. My secret? My secret is if they kill me…it won’t be because I helped them.

Bird [to Buster after taking his horn]: I just wanted to see if it could play more than one note at a time.

Doctor [on the phone calling in Bird’s death]: Charles Christopher Parker, Junior. Preliminary diagnosis: heart attack. Stocky, male, negro. Approximately 65 years of age.
Baroness Nica: He was 34.[/b]

It would piss anyone off. You come up with a superior product and someone waltzes in from the outside and tries to take it all away from you. That it’s dope doesn’t make any difference, right? Well, except for the part about pursuing a legal recourse. Here you are more or less on your on. So, if you want it, you better have the balls to fight for it. Either that or secure script approval.

Drug wars.

Based on what I’ve seen in the media, some of the scariest people on earth are members of the drug cartels in Mexico. There is absolutely nothing they won’t do to anyone who gets inbetween them and their drug money. Nothing. And it is all made possible by an idotic drug policy that for all practical purposes both precipitates and then sustains it’s existence.

Ben is the Buddhist. Chon is the baddest. O is their Babe. But this ain’t the 1960s.

In this world, everything always revolves around options. And your capacity to make more. At least the part that isn’t in La La Land. And for all I know that’s most of it. At times it’s like watching cartoon characters. Or an episode of The A-Team. But then the part about the “savages” that run amok in the drug cartels isn’t. The only consolaton is that most of the mayhem is internecine.

What would it take to turn you into a savage? Well, let’s make a deal.

IMDb

[b]For legal reasons, all the marijuana plants in the film are artificial. The production designers visited legal medical marijuana growers to get the details right.

The character of Elena is loosely based on Mireya Moreno Carreon who’s known to be the first Mexican female boss cartel.[/b]

in wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Savages_(2012_film
trailer: youtu.be/KC2zbOwbeEs

SAVAGES [2012]
Directed by Oliver Stone

[b]O [voice-over]: Just because I’m telling you this story doesn’t mean I’m alive at the end of it. This could all be pre-recorded and I could be talking to you from the bottom of the ocean. Yeah, it’s that kind of a story. Because things just got so out of control.

O [voiceover]: Chon is a killer. Two tours. Iraq, Afghanistan. And he came back with a Iot of cash, but no soul. He’s always trying to fuck the war out of himself. I have orgasms. He has war-gasms.

O [voiceover]: Call me O. I was named after Ophelia, the bipolar basket case in Hamlet who committed suicide. So I cut it down to just O.

O [looking at a man walking amidst severed heads]: Is that Iraq?
Chon: No, Mexico.

Lado: You don’t fuck with Walmart.

Ben [to Chon]: That was Mexico, this is Laguna. The cops here wear shorts and ride bicycles.

Chon: Grow up Ben. You don’t change the world, it changes you.

Chon: Last chance Ben. You let people think you’re weak, sooner or later you have to kill them.
Ben: Buddha would not agree.
Chon: What does a fat Jap know?
Ben: He’s a fat Indian.

Chon [to the cartel rep]: I think, basically, you want us to eat your shit and call it caviar.

Lado: Maybe she does them both.
[pause]
Lado: Savages.

Elena: The next time we ask you to do something, I don’t want to hear, “Eat-shit-caviar.” Am I clear?
Chon: Yes.

Elena: May I ask you how long have you been using, Ophelia?
O: Since the eighth grade.
Elena: And you’re wondering why you’re having concentration problems?

Elena [to her daughter Magda]: You know what they say: If the mountain doesn’t come to Mohammed, Mohammed comes to California.

Elena [to O]: And my daughter, she’s ashamed of me. And I am proud of her for it.[/b]

She’s…deep.

[b]Elena [to O about Ben and Chon]: There’s something wrong with your love story, baby. They may love you, but they will never love you as much as they love each other. Otherwise, they wouldn’t share you, would they?

Chon: So, I read up on your Buddha. According to the Dalai Lama, if you are in a position to prevent greater violence, strike first and strike fast. Alex kidnapped people, Ben. He had people tortured and killed.
Ben: So have we.

Chon [to Ben]: You’re already dead. You’re dead from the moment you’re born. If you can accept that, you can accept anything.[/b]

Another really deep dude.

[b]O [voiceover]: That’s how I imagined it went down, but the truth has an imagination of its own. What really happened was more of a fuck-up than a shoot-out.

O [voice-over]: I looked up the definition of the word savage. It means cruel, crippled, regressed back to a primal state of being. One day, maybe, we’ll be back. For now, we live like savages… beautiful, savages.[/b]

Here we go again: Dopes doing the dope. Dopes selling the dope. Dopes coming up with the policies to stop them. Dopes in the White House for example.

It’s been a great success, hasn’t it?

Or, as Nino puts it:
I’m not guilty. You’re the one that’s guilty. The lawmakers, the politicians, the Columbian drug lords, all you who lobby against making drugs legal. Just like you did with alcohol during the prohibition. You’re the one who’s guilty. I mean, c’mon, let’s kick the ballistics here: Ain’t no Uzi’s made in Harlem. Not one of us in here owns a poppy field. This thing is bigger than Nino Brown. This is big business. This is the American way.

Of course he’s guilty as hell for the part he plays.

Meanwhile the economic policy of the folks in the government revolve largely around exporting living wage jobs and creating the conditions that all but guarentee more dope use. But fuck it…it’s them not us.

Is the lesson learned or is it just the opposite: I want to be like these, dudes, man! But this is basically what most folks imagine when they think of this shit. Nothing like L.A. “hoods” at all. Though, basically, it’s exactly the same thing. It’s Scarface wannabes here, Scarface wannabes there. Say hello to my little friend.

The good, the bad and the ugly. They come in all colors here.

And not a single use of the N-word. Or none that I recall.

IMDb

[b]Story is largely based on a real-life Detroit gang known as The Chambers Brothers. Writer Barry Michael Cooper got the idea for the film after visiting Detroit and learning about the gang’s exploits.

On Inside the Actors Studio, Chris Rock claimed that for several years following his acclaimed performance as a crack addict, drug dealers would approach him and put crack and cocaine in his pocket; joking that “they thought it was a documentary.” He stated that, although he knew people who used crack at the time, he never did and, in his 1997 memoir “Rock This” had only smoked marijuana twice.[/b]

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Jack_City
trailer: youtu.be/DnlyOxOXwXo

NEW JACK CITY [1991]
Directed by Mario Van Peebles

[b]Nino [just before sending a man to his death]: Money talks, and bullshit runs a marathon. So, see ya and I wouldn’t want to be ya.

Nino: You must like slumming, Kareem. Why would a high-class guy like you leave a good computer job at the bank come all the way uptown by gypsy cab to work among a den of thieves?
Kareem: I’m no dummy. It’s basic common sense and arithmetic. The difference between them paying me $800 a week and you paying me $8,000 a week.
Selina: I kind my cousin also likes the fact that you’re in the tradition of Joe Kennedy.
Nino: Good. Cause you gotta rob to get rich in the Reagan era. They running a strange program. More poor and disenfranchised folks than this place has ever seen. They try to act like it don’t exist. Meanwhile, the rich get richer and the poor don’t get a thing. Times like these, people want to get high. Real high and real fast.

Nino: Yeah, we takin’ over the Carter. We gon’ bum rush the whole damn thing. Now if the tenants cooperate, oh, it’ll be lovely. They’ll be loyal customers, if not, fuck it, it’ll be like in Beirut, they’ll be live-in hostages.

Stone: We need some evidence. Evidence of murder, drug trafficking, racketeering, tax evasion. Anything. We’ve never been able to make anything stick on Brown.
Scotty: No shit. 1/3 of the department’s on Nino’s payroll. The other 2/3s don’t care unless it affects their community.

Scotty [watching Nino and his gang play Black Panthers]: Nino’s trying to purchase a conscience. I ain’t buying this Robin Hood bullshit.

Pooky [to Scotty]: They got that shit hooked up like Mission Impossible, man!

Scotty [to Pooky]: Yeah, yeah, yeah…a mind is a terrible thing to waste. Now back to the titties. What’s going on in this drug store?

Pooky [about the room used for freebasing]: They call it the Enterprise Room, man, because it’s for people who wanna be beamed up to Scotty.

Nick [to Scotty arguing with Stone]: Excuse me, is this one of those black things?

Nino: [to Gee after the Carter is shut down]: A million dollar a week business reduced to fucking rubble!

G-Money [aloud to himself and a crack pipe]: What G-Money has brought together let no man put asunder. I now pronounce us man and wife. You may kiss the bride.

Stone [to Scotty]: The operation was a failure. We didn’t arrest anyone. No one, man. We didn’t get any evidence. Nothing. No financial records, nothing. We still could be out there fighting scum like Nino Brown…except for two things: I gambled on you, and you gambled on a crackhead.

Scotty: Operation’s gone, Nino’s loose, Pookie’s dead. I got Pookie killed, man.
Nick: Cut out this self-pitying shit about you killing Pookie. If anyone killed him it was me. I could see it.
Scotty: How the hell you gonna to tell me you killed Pookie?
Nick: Do you remember when you said I didn’t care? When what the hell was I doing at Pookie’s funeral anyway? Remember? I used to be Pookie.
Scotty: How the hell you used to be Pookie?
Nick: I was poor white-trash Pookie. This whole drug shit, it’s not a black thing, it’s not a white thing. It’s a death thing. Death don’t give a shit about color. You don’t have to like me. Hell, I don’t even know if I like you. But we’re in this together now, partner.
Scotty: You know, a drug dealer is the worst kind of brother. He won’t sell it to his sister, he won’t sell it to his mother. But he’ll sell it to one of his boys in the street. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to kill Nino Brown. Are you with me?
Nick: I’m ahead of you.

Nino: When I was young, I was a member of this gang called the L.A. Boys.
Scotty [working undercover]: Lennox Ave.
Nino: You know it. The leader, Jughead, told me to prove my loyalty, I had to snuff somebody out. It was like, “No problem.” I said, “An enemy?” He said, “No, that’s too easy.” “It’s got to be an ordinary mo.” So I rode down the road. Copped me a bag of that Red Devil angel dust. I got so zooted. I walked up on this lady. She must have been a schoolteacher or something. I was so fucking crazy, man, I didn’t even care. I stepped to her. I didn’t even stay to see her body drop. I just ran.

Nino: He used you, G. What ever happened to, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
G-Money: You know what happened to it. “The world is mine.” Remember that? “Everything is mine. Everything!” Even my woman…[/b]

American youth culture. Sometimes it’s just mindless. But sometimes it can be mindless…and downright dangerous. Especially when you are around those of the male gender. And guess what? There is dope [and dopes] everywhere here too!

This is a true story. It’s the one here: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_of_ … _Markowitz

But these kids aren’t exactly in the same boat as the folks from New Jack City. They are all white. And most of their families are smack dab in the middle of the upper middle class.

Like father, like son?

These are the kind of kids [boys] who spend their days watching hip-hop videos. They need to keep track of what’s “cool”. Dope is cool. Guns are cool. Bling is cool. Booty is cool. Violence is cool. Then the “bitches” just go along with it. It’s so sub-mental you can’t quite wrap your mind around it. How could millions of kids fall for this shit?!! But there it is.

And, sure enough, there’s a poster of Scarface on Johnny’s wall.

And the kid they kidnap…Zack…all he wants to be is just like them!

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alpha_Dog
trailer: youtu.be/gOT88EXxs_I

ALPHA DOG [2006]
Written and directed by Nick Cassavetes

[b]Sonny: You wanna know what this is all about? You can say it’s about drugs or guns or disaffected youth, or whatever you like. But this whole thing is about parenting. It’s about taking care of your children. You take care of yours, I take care of mine.

Interviewer: Your son was a drug dealer?
Sonny: A drug dealer? No. Did he sell a little weed? Yeah.
Interviewer: A little weed? He was a major supplier to the San Gabriel Valley.

Lumpy: Hey, Chucky, they got a kid tied up in your bedroom!

Frankie: Will you watch the kid for me for a little while?
Keith: Watch him?
Frankie: Yeah. Keep an eye on him. No phones and no leaving him alone.
Keith: No phones? l don’t get it.
Frankie: All right, look. lf l tell you something, can you keep your fucking mouth shut? The kid’s older brother owes Truelove money and Johnny’s holding him like a marker or something, until he gets paid.
Keith: That’s fucked up.
Frankie: No. No, bitch, it’s not like that. The kid knows what’s happening, and he’s cool with it. l mean, look at the motherfucker. He ain’t going nowhere.

Tiffaney: Whoa, you guys, dude, what’s going on?
Susan: This kid has been kidnapped!
Keith: No, he hasn’t!
Tiffaney: You mean like ‘‘abducted’’ kidnapped? Fucking stolen!
Susan: Ask him.
Zack: Yeah. Yeah, they took me. But it’s okay.
Tiffaney: They took you? Why?
Susan: Because his scumbag brother owes Johnny Truelove money.
Keith: Shut up!
Julie: Whoa! That’s fucking hot.
Tiffaney: Dude, so you’re like ransom or something.
Julie: Yeah. Stolen boy.
Tiffaney: Yeah. You don’t look stolen.
Zack: Yeah. l know. lt’s weird.

Susan: But the kid has been kidnapped!
Tiffaney: Dude, that’s so fucking cool.
Susan: Dude, this shirt is fucking cool, Bob Marley is cool, you guys think that kidnapping is cool?
Tiffaney: Yes, Susan, I think this is so exciting. I think it’s romantic. He’s doing this for his brother!
Zack: Susan, chill out!
Susan: It’s wrong, it’s wrong! Am I the only fucking person who thinks this is fucking wrong?

Johnny [to Frankie]: I want to ask you something. Hypothetically, all right? This isn’t real, right? We’re just talking here. But…What would you say if l were to offer you $2,500 just to kill the kid?

Jake [on the phone with Johnny]: It was you. I know it was you who took him. No matter where you go, No matter what you do, I’m gonna hunt you down. I’m gonna hunt you down and then I’m gonna slit your throat and then I’m gonna cut you open and then I’M GONNA EAT YOUR MOTHER FUCKING HEART! YOU BETTER YOU PRAY, JOHNNY YOU BETTER FUCKING PRAY THAT THE COPS FIND YOU, BEFORE I DO! GET ON YOUR COCKSUCKING KNEES AND PRAY!

Johnny [on phone]: Question for you. Let’s say, someone owes someone I know money and won’t pay. So that someone I know has his boys snatch the deadbeat’s kid brother till does he does pay. What kind of problems is he looking at?
Lawyer: Big ones. If he asks for ransom he’s looking at life.

Frankie: Yesterday Johnny offered me 2,500 bucks to kill the kid.
Susan: What?
Frankie: Right. Kill him.
Susan: Oh, Jesus.

Frankie: Ain’t no fucking way, Elvis. I’m not digging. Fuck you! I did my shit. This is the line, motherfucker! Everybody’s got one and mine’s a fucking grave, all right?

Keith [to Elvis]: What the fuck do you need duct tape for, Dude?

Cosmo: Let the spooks do the hard time, Johnny…call it off.

Elvis: If the kid goes home, everybody’s looking at life.
Frankie: Life?
Elvis: Life. We talked to a lawyer, man, and there’s no way around it.
Frankie: Life for what? For taking care of the kid? For letting him sleep at my fucking house?
Elvis: You were there from square one. You sat on him the whole fucking time. You think you’re going to walk?
Frankie: Goddamn. Life?
Elvis: There it is.
Frankie: I like the kid.
Elvis: What’s not to like? He’s 15. He’s just too much of a liability.

Interviewer: About the funeral? Jake didn’t show?
Zack’s mom: No. Oh, he said it was out of respect for me. That’s a crock. He just didn’t want to get hit. l’m sorry, l don’t understand. Shot. Killed. Murdered. l happen to know he owes $50,000 to one drug dealer. They have their own rules in the drug world. They killed my son for $1,200.

Interviewer: Somebody had to help him get out of the country. Somebody has to be sending him money.
Sonny: I do not know where my son is. And if I knew, you think I’d tell you and this fucking camera?
Cosmo: I think he’s lost.
Sonny: I think he’s right. I mean, I ain’t seen him. He ain’t here. He must be lost. Now get the fuck out of my house.[/b]

But then 5 years later he [Jesse James Hollywood] was found. In Paraguay. He is now in prison serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole.

Is it safe?

Sooner or later the last Nazi from the Second World War will perish. But in the interim, those still alive and well will continue to pop up on the radar. And even though this one isn’t “based on a true story” it might just as well have been. These men are out there. Some will be exposed and some will not. Then it comes down to God or No God. That and which side He is on. After all, both sides claim Him.

Babe stumbles into one of those convoluted labyrinths where people tell you things that are not true at all. They have ulterior motives and wear masks. Even your own brother and the woman you love.

The brother works for the government. In a secret organization called The Division. Or maybe he doesn’t. Everything in this world seems to “cut both ways”. After all, the American government made any number of expedient [though some would call them despicable] deals with all manner of Nazis [or Nazi sympathizers] at the end of the war. It’s just the way things go. We had to go after the Reds with every hand in the deck.

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marathon_Man_(film
trailer: youtu.be/OK26KtN99R4

MARATHON MAN [1976]
Directed by John Schlesinger

[b]Professor Biesenthal: Well, you four have the dubious honor of having been picked from over two hundred applicants for this seminar. Well, let me just say this. There’s a shortage of natural resources. There’s a shortage of breathable air, there’s even a shortage of adequate claret. But there is no shortage of historians. We grind you out like link sausages. That’s called progress. Manufacturing doctorates is called progress. Well, I say, “Let us hush this cry of progress until ten thousand years have passed.” That’s a quote. Who said that? Come on, who said that?
[none of the students answer, but Babe writes “Tennyson”]
Professor Biesenthal: Tennyson! Alfred, Lord Tennyson. My God, but you can’t compete on a doctoral level and not know “Locksley Hall” and “Locksley Hall 60 Years Later”! I hope you all flunk. Dismissed.

Janeway: Szell’s brother’s been killed in Manhattan. A collision with an oil truck.
Doc: Oh, boy. Any changes?
Janeway: Only everything.

Doc: What’s this? More bullshit for your thesis?
Babe: Some interviews about Dad. Read them.
Doc: Not interested.
Babe: I just want you to read it.
Doc: Face it. The old man is dead. He was a drunk. He killed himself.
Babe: He didn’t start to drink till after the hearings. I got it from his friends.
Doc: Where were those people then?
Babe: They were afraid. Just like everybody else.
Doc: You’re throwing your life away.
Babe: I don’t think so.
Doc: Nothing you write will change that!
Babe: Give me the courtesy to read it!
Doc: It’s over! Forget it!
Babe: Maybe for you.

Janeway: My name’s Peter Janeway. But you can call me Janey, all of my friends do.
Babe: I’m not your friend.

Janeway: Listen, why don’t we begin with what happened tonight, hmm? Perhaps you could… you know, give me some of the details.
Babe: I was here, Doc died, you came.
Janeway: That’s it?
Babe: I’m a demon for details.

Janeway [referring to Doc]: What did he do?
Babe: He was in the oil business.
Janeway: Wrong. I know exactly how Doc made his living, and the closest he ever came to the oil business was when he filled up at the friendly neighborhood gas station.

Szell: Is it safe?.. Is it safe?
Babe: You’re talking to me?
Szell: Is it safe?
Babe: Is what safe?
Szell: Is it safe?
Babe: I don’t know what you mean. I can’t tell you something’s safe or not, unless I know specifically what you’re talking about.
Szell: Is it safe?
Babe: Tell me what the “it” refers to.
Szell: Is it safe?
Babe: Yes, it’s safe, it’s very safe, it’s so safe you wouldn’t believe it.
Szell: Is it safe?
Babe: No. It’s not safe, it’s very dangerous, be careful.

Janeway: All right, things are starting to come together. Keep your head down before you get it blown off. Those two guys I just wasted work for a man named Christian Szell. Does that name mean anything to you?
Babe: No.
Janeway: He ran the experimental camp in Auchswitz, where they called him “The White Angel” - “Die Weisse Engel” - because he has this incredible head of white hair. He’s probably the most wealthy and most wanted Nazi alive. And he’s hiding out somewhere in Uruguay. In 1945, Szell let it be known around Auchswitz that he could provide escape for any Jew who is willing to pay the price. He started with gold natually, but very quickly worked his way up to diamonds. You heard any of this before?
Babe: No.
Janeway: Szell saw the end early. They snuck his brother into America with his diamonds. They’re right here in New York in a safe deposit box. Szell’s brother had the key. The only other key kept by Szell in Uruguay. And now, if he has to come out of hiding to use it, he’s gonna expose himself to incredible risk. Well, everything worked out fine until his brother got killed in a head-on collision with an oil truck.
Babe: Why did you say “natually” when you said it started with gold?
Janeway: Because he knocked it out of the Jews’ teeth before he burned them. Szell was a dentist.

Szell [to Babe]: Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going into that cavity. That nerve’s already dying. A live, freshly-cut nerve is infinitely more sensitive. So I’ll just drill into a healthy tooth until I reach the pulp. That is unless, of course, you can tell me that it’s safe.

Janeway: Shit!
Babe [screaming to Janeway] You killed him! You killed him! You killed him! You killed him! You fucking killed him! You killed my brother!

Babe: Listen, I want you to rob my apartment.
Melendez: Why?
Babe: There are some guys out there after me, I got a gun in my desk drawer, and I want you to get me some clothes.
Melendez: What’s in there for me, man?
Babe: I got a TV set, I got a hi-fi, you can take it all. Do it.
Melendez: What’s the catch?
Babe: The catch is it’s dangerous.
Melendez: That ain’t the catch. That’s the fun.

Elsa: When did you know?
Babe: I didn’t…until now.

Babe [to Szell coming out of the bank with the diamonds]: It isn’t safe.

Szell: I was in a state of hysteria, you know.
[referring to the open suitcase filled with diamonds]
Szell: Don’t you want to take a closer look than that?
Babe: No!
Szell: You see, uh, in a sense, one becomes more emotional with age. First, after a lifetime of being taken by friends and enemies alike, and then just when you think you have your possessions sure, your health begins to go.
[laughs]
Szell: Of course, that’s the ultimate theft!

Szell: Well, what are you going to do now, shoot me?
Babe: No, I don’t think so.
Szell [referring to the diamonds]: Then you’re going to take these from me? If I could say a word about that…
Babe: No, you can keep them. You can keep as many as you can swallow.[/b]

What do I know about Italian political history? Not a whole lot. So, by and large, I’ll just have to take their word for it. But while Machiavelli may have started here it is more or less the same all over. Or, as Roger Ebert put it: “Il Divo is The Godfather meets Nixon.”

Or Barack Obama for that matter. It’s always the stuff behind the curtain that counts. You don’t think the Democrats – the “liberals” – play that game? Well, they do at this level or they don’t get to play at all.

I wonder what role the Popes all played in this? And then of course there’s God.

An important clue: All of his life Andreotti was afflicted with the most ghastly of migraine headaches. And pain at this level can [alone] turn a man into a monster.

They’re all here: Big Government. Big Business. Big Religion. And of course the Mafia. That’s not to say there are not also men and women who were truly humane, idealistic and committed to a better world. It’s only to point out the obvious: how, in the end, nothing really changes. Not systemically. Look at Italian politics today!

Snakepits and cesspools. Both human all too human. Bur who is to say why…definitively.

Andreotti died just this year: nytimes.com/2013/05/07/world … d=all&_r=0

at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Il_Divo_(film
trailer: youtu.be/vQ_bErvyd8U

IL DIVO [Il divo: La Spettacolare Vita di Giulio Andreotti] 2008
Written and directed by Paolo Sorrentino

[b]Title card: For over 50 years Giulio Andreotti was Italy’s most powerful, feared and enigmatic politician. As 7 time Prime Minister, he and his hardliner faction led the ruling Christian Democratic Party.

On March 16th, 1978, members of the Red Brigade abducted Andreotti’s centrist rival and former Prime Minister Aldo Moro. Moro wrote hundreds of letters urging the government to negociate. To the shock of the nation, Andreotti refused. Moro’s bullet riddled body was found 55 days later.

Over the next 15 years, a succession of top-level politicians, journalists, judges and bankers – all connected to the Vatican, the Mafia or Andreotti himself – were murdered.

Suspicion also fell on the neo-fascist Masonic lodge P2, whose members included future Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi.

Andreotti has been called “The Sphinx”, The Hunchback:“, The Black Pope” and “Il Divo”. He was tried and acquitted of conspiracy, corrupted and murder. In 1991, he was named Senator For Life.

Title card: “True power does not need arrogance, a long beard and a barking voice. True power strangles you with silk ribbons, charm and intelligence.” Oriana Fallaci

Andreotti: Priests vote…God doesn’t.

Andreotti: You always want to talk political strategies. I, on the other hand, have a dreadful migraine today.

Andreotti: We learn from the Gospel that when they asked Jesus what truth was, he did not reply.

Priest: Why do you surround yourself with such people?
Andreotti: Wars are fought with the troops available.
Priest: The best people can choose the best troops.
Andreotti: Trees need manure in order to grow.
Priest: Your irony is atrocious.
Andreotti: Irony is the best cure against death. Cures against death are always atrocious.

Andreotti [to Priest]: If the Red Brigades had wanted secrets, they could have talked to me for a year. Moro had no idea that certain things even existed.

Andreotti: I know I am an average man but looking around I do not see any giants.

Andreotti: I don’t believe in chance, I believe in the will of God.[/b]

That’s one way to get off the hook. For example, no matter what you do.

Andreotti [to the camera, to his wife, justifying himself]: They have no idea of the deeds that power must commit to ensure the well-being and development of the country. For too long, that power was me. The monsterous, unavowable contradiction: perpetuating evil to guarantee good. The monstrous contradiction that made me a cynical man that even you couldn’t decipher. Your lively, innocent eyes don’t know the responsibility. The direct and indirect responsibility for all the carnage in Italy from 1969 to 1984 that left prescisely 236 dead and 817 injured. To all the families of the victims, I say that I confess. I confess it was my fault, my most grievious fault. I’ll say it, even if it’s pointless. Havoc used to destablize the country, to provoke terror to isolate the extremist parties and strenghten the center ones has been described as “tension strategy.” It would be more correct to say “survival strategy.” Roberto, Michelle, Giorgio, Alberto, Giovanni, Mino, dear Aldo by vocation or necessity, all confirmed lovers of the truth. All bombs ready to explode that were defused into silence. All of them thinking truth is the right thing, but actually it’s the end of the world. We can’t allow the end of the world in the name of what’s right!

He knows this. And God does too.

[b]Wife: They depict you as cunning, cultured and very intelligent. I say that’s not the case.
Andreotti: What’s made you so critical suddenly?
Wife: Nothing, just the need to establish the truth occasionally. A need you’ve never had.
Andreotti: You live longer without needs.
Wife: Another wisecrack.

Andreotti [to his family at dinner]: Starting today, we will apply the philosophy of St. Bernard: See everything, tolerate a lot, correct one thing at a time. Because if it is true that Christians must turn the other cheek, it’s also true that Jesus Christ, very intelligently, only gave us two.

Andreotti: You always find the culprit in crime novels but not always in real life.

Andreotti: A good man’s meanness is always very dangerous.

Andreotti: The most difficult dictatorship to hate is your own.

Andreotti: Thinking ill of your fellow man is a sin, but you have guessed right.

Andreotti: It is not always easy to explain our country to foreigners. In Italy the slowest trains are called “fast” and the evening news comes out in the morning.[/b]