Showing posts with label Martin Scorsese. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Martin Scorsese. Show all posts

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Great Movie Dialogue: Raging Bull

Jake La Motta: Did you fuck my wife?

Joey LaMotta: What?

Jake La Motta: Did you fuck my wife?

Joey LaMotta: [pauses] How do you ask me that? I'm your brother and you ask me that? Where do you get your balls big enough to ask me that?

Jake La Motta: I'm gonna ask you again, did you or didn't you? Just answer the question.

Joey LaMotta: I'm not gonna answer that. It's stupid. It's a sick question and you're a sick fuck and I'm not that sick that I'm gonna answer it. I'm leaving, If Nora calls tell her I went home. You know what you should do? Do a little more fucking and a little less eating, so you don't have to blame it all on me and everybody else, you understand me? You're cracking up! Ya' fucking screw ball ya'!

Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci, in Raging Bull, directed by Martin Scorsese

"He ain't pretty no more..."

Thursday, March 18, 2010

10 classic ad-lib and off-script movie moments

http://www.denofgeek.com/movies/432108/10_classic_adlib_and_offscript_movie_moments.html

10 classic ad-lib and off-script movie moments
Karla Healion
Not every moment of movie genius is written down in the script. Take this collection of ad-libs and off-script moments, for instance...
Mar 3, 2010

Sometimes, the genius moments of a film weren't in the script, and happened in an off-the-cuff moment on the shoot itself. Here are 10 examples of when an ad-lib or off-script moment went very, very right...

Taxi Driver: "You talkin' to me?"
(Martin Scorsese, 1976)

Arguably the most famous cinematic quote of all time, "You talkin' to me?" was actually improvised. Even though the film's screenplay was written by the brilliant Paul Schrader (who also wrote the adapted screenplay for Scorsese's Raging Bull), it's this line which has gone down in the annals of pop culture history.

Director Martin Scorsese has always encouraged Robert De Niro's creativity, proving that actors can contribute more than just their performance, and in this instance it paid off.

In the original script Schrader had simply written "Bickle speaks to himself in the mirror." Alone in his grubby apartment, De Niro's loner sociopath character Travis Bickle is planning to shoot a politician. In the mirror he is practising with the sleeve-holster he made for his gun. Catching his reflection, he postures, repeating "You talkin' to me?" before whipping out his gun and taking aim. It is a moment of stunning personal insight into a character as flawed, intriguing and complex as you will ever see on the big screen.

The Shining "Heeeeeere's Johnny!"
(Stanley Kubrick, 1980)

Adapted from the Stephen King novel of the same name, The Shining is one of Kubrick's best known and most commercially successful films. The shoot was a famously difficult one, as Kubrick was notorious for being a controlling, sometimes cruel, filmmaker.

It's common knowledge that the fear displayed by Shelley Duval (playing Wendy Torrance) in the film was genuine. Kubrick would scream and shout at her, and allegedly even slapped her across the face during one take. So the spooky, tense and horrifying atmosphere we see on screen is often authentic, and perhaps inspired Jack Nicholson to ad-lib one of his most famous lines.

Jack Torrance (Nicholson's character) slowly loses his mind when stationed to mind a remote hotel with his wife and little boy. At a pinnacle stage in the narrative, he chases his wife (Duval) through the hotel with an axe. She locks herself in a bathroom, and when Torrance chops through the door, he pokes his demented face through the hole and wails, "Heeeeeere's Johnny!"

Nicholson was mimicking the catchphrase used by Ed McMahon to introduce Johnny Carson on The Johnny Carson Show (a hugely popular show at the time). It is this juxtaposition, in terms of connotation and context, that gives it such a magnificently dark, creepy, yet disturbingly humorous, effect.

Despite the screenplay being adapted from a book by one of the best horror novelists of all time, "Heeeeeere's Johnny!" is certainly the most easily remembered line from this uber-stylish classic.

Indiana Jones And The Raiders Of The Lost Ark: Jones shoots the swordsman
(Steven Spielberg, 1981)

The story behind this scene is almost as famous as the scene itself. Harrison Ford, playing our protagonist explorer Indie Jones, got a bad case of food poisoning and dysentery. He was due to shoot a big fight scene with a skilled swordsman the next day. Not able to take on the action, Ford suggested to Spielberg that he simply shoot the over-zealous antagonist, in a quip that sums up the ethos and feel of Jones' character perfectly.

So, following an arduous journey through the streets of Egypt, the crowd parts to reveal a sinister, threatening swordsman dressed in black. He faces Jones, but straight after he cuts some impressive pre-fight moves in an attempt to intimidate his opponent, Jones draws and shoots him down in one. And off-script movie magic is made.

Blade Runner: Roy Batty's final soliloquy
(Ridley Scott, 1982)

With Harrison Ford in the lead again (this time as Rick Deckard) we come to Ridley Scott's revered sci-fi epic Blade Runner. The screenplay was based on the Philip K. Dick novel Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?.

Hollywood legend has it that Martin Scorsese was originally interested in the adaptation but never optioned it. That would have been interesting. But we all love Scott's dark, moody, original and highly influential shoot which launched a thousand mimics. And we especially love the Aryan, cold, violent Roy Batty, the perfect replicant (android).

Played fantastically by Rutger Hauer, Batty is LAPD Officer Deckard's nemesis. In the end Batty's life is drawing to a close, and like so much in the film, it makes a social comment on all kinds of issues.

So, sitting on a rooftop in the pouring rain Hauer takes the first few lines from David Peoples' script and adds a couple of very memorable closing lines as his character's last words. "I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time. Like tears in the rain. Time to die."

Mad to think Bladerunner is set in 2019. Doubt we'll have such perfect androids in only ten years' time.

The Third Man: Lime's cuckoo clock maxim
(Carol Reed, 1949)

Carol Reed's The Third Man is a film that constantly appears on 'best film' lists. It's a beautifully shot and scripted testament to the art of film noir, starring notorious movie heavyweight Orson Welles. It also has one of the most ferociously famous theme tunes in film history (even if it doesn't come to mind right now, you do know it).

One of its most memorable moments comes when Harry Lime (Welles) is trying to convince his old friend Holly Martins (Joseph Cotton) to join him in some dubious dealings. He's explaining that to make omelettes you need to break eggs.

Illustrating Welles' absolute cinematic brilliance, he includes the cuckoo line. It was not part of the original screenplay, adapted from a novel by reputable writer Graham Greene, but is perhaps the best known quote of the film: "In Italy for 30 years under the Borgias, they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed. They produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, five hundred years of democracy and peace. And what did that produce? The cuckoo clock."

Midnight Cowboy: "I'm walkin' here!"
(John Schlesinger, 1969)

Okay, it's been disputed as to whether this was off-script or not. But it's not past the methodical Dustin Hoffman to ad-lib such a brilliant line.

Midnight Cowboy won Academy Awards for Best Picture, Best Director (John Schlesinger) and Best Adapted Screenplay (Waldo Salt). It's the only X-rated film to have won any Oscars, and the only other X-rated nomination in history was Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange (1971).

There is a scene in which Hoffman's unforgettable 'Ratso' Rizzo is walking our midnight cowboy Joe Buck (played by a young Jon Voight) through the streets of New York. He's coaching him about becoming a successful stud and gigolo, and while crossing a street nearly gets hit by a yellow cab. Hoffman beats the hood with his fist and shouts, "I'm walkin' here!" in his unique New York parlance, yhen quickly retorts to Voight, "Actually, that ain't a bad way to pick up insurance y'know."

"I'm walkin' here." is often cited as one of the world's best movie quotes. It's usually thought of as an improvised line, which Hoffman has claimed. And he is certainly more than capable of this kind of fleshed-out character portrayal. But producer Jermoe Hellman has always maintained that it was in the script. The romantic film buff in me likes to believe the former, but I guess we may never really know.

Dr. Strangelove, Or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb: Dr. Strangelove's sporadic involuntary Nazi salute
(Stanley Kubrick, 1964)

Apparently, so many of Sellers' lines in Dr. Strangelove were improvised that he is often cited as an uncredited co-writer. And it is considered a study of retro-scripting, ie. when ad-libbed lines are later written into the final script. So, it's difficult to know which one to pick, but perhaps the most ingenious and intuitive is when his title character performs sudden involuntary Nazi salutes in the company of the US military (Sellers plays three characters in total).

Dr. Strangelove is a wheelchair-bound German nuclear weapons expert, who has a past association with the Nazis. In one of the best comedic performances of all time, Sellers' Dr. Strangelove sometimes accidentally refers to the US President as 'Mein Fuhrer', and strangles himself with his out-of-control right arm. This is as well as having to use his left arm to push down the Nazi salutes his right arm frequently and uncontrollably lapses into.

This was entirely Sellers' creation. So much so, in fact, that the novel from which the film was adapted (Red Alert by Peter George) didn't even have the character Dr. Strangelove at all. The word genius does get thrown around but, good lord, Peter Sellers really deserves the moniker.

Goodfellas: "Funny how?"
(Martin Scorsese, 1990)

Adapted from the Nicholas Pileggi book Wiseguys, the Goodfellas screenplay is not without its share of memorable moments. It is one of the best loved films of all time, and displays a darkly humorous side to the Italio-American gangster genre, largely absent in Coppola's The Godfather series.

People always remember the crazy Joe Pesci character, Tommy DeVito, who defined and inspired a million mafia-esque archetypes. Such is the unstable and changeable world of mafia relationships that in one scene DeVito is sitting with our protagonist Henry Hill (Ray Liotta), sharing a drink and having a laugh. When Hill comments, "You're a funny guy," DeVito's face turns stone cold and he replies, "What do you mean I'm a funny guy. Funny how? Funny like I'm here to amuse you?'" The entire room stops dead. A couple of wiseguys mumble, "Hey, Tommy, calm down," as Hill looks worried and tries to explain himself.

The tension is just about to turn into what we think will be bullets, when DeVito cracks and says, "I'm just fucking with you," and everyone laughs. With relief, might I add.

It exemplifies beautifully how crazy Pesci's character is. His friends believe he may turn that easily, and also how volatile and suddenly hostile their world can be. It's thought that Pesci ad-libbed quite a lot for this role and that lines such as this were often retro-scripted into the final draft of the screenplay.

Silence Of The Lambs: Hannibal's hissing
(Johnathan Demme, 1992)

Playing one of the most iconic cinema villains ever, Sir Anthony Hopkins immortalised the cannibalistic Dr. Hannibal Lecter in this classic performance. Although he only has under twenty-five minutes of screen time, Hopkins won an Oscar for Best Actor. Jodie Foster also won for Best Actress, and the film won Best Director, Best Screenplay (Ted Tally) and Best Picture too. Not bad.

The American Film Institute named Lecter the number three screen villain ever in their top 100 in 2003, next to Norman Bates, with Darth Vader in the top spot.

Lecter is an incarcerated serial killer cannibal whom Foster's character, FBI agent Clarice Starling, interviews to help find another murdering cannibal, still at large. All in a day's work.

At one point Lecter tells of an unsavoury incident, describing a now-famous meal: "A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti." He then hisses and sucks at Starling in a truly revolting and disturbing manner, forever putting an entire generation off that particular varietal of wine.

Hollywood rumour says that this hissing was just a joke thrown in by Hopkins. He never intended it to be so frightening, not to mention appearing in the final cut and becoming so utterly conspicuous.

Casablanca: "Here's looking at you, kid."
(Michael Curtiz, 1942)

Ah, Casablanca. What can we say? If it's not your favourite oldie, and the final scene doesn't make you cry, then I'm sure you don't have a reflection in a mirror. But more than the emotion of the story, the coolness of Bogie and the beauty of Ingrid Bergman, it is a technically superb and incredibly entertaining film.

Regarding the script, the famous line, "Play it again, Sam", is not actually in the film and is probably the world's biggest cinematic misquote. Then, to our ad-libbed moment.

During the last scene and their final interaction, Rick (Humphrey Bogart) is doing the right thing and letting Ilsa (Bergman) go. Crying, she tries to convince him to let her stay. He refuses but consoles her, saying, "Here's looking at you, kid." And there isn't a dry eye in the house.

The American Film Institute often calls it one of the most memorable lines in film. It is often quoted and parodied. Yet, legend has it that this is something Bogart used to say to Bergman as he taught her to play poker in between takes on set. It was never in the original script at all.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Mind control and understanding Shutter Island

http://www.freepress.org/columns/display/3/2010/1811

Bob Fitrakis
Mind control and understanding Shutter Island
Feb 21, 2010

To understand Martin Scorsese’s well-crafted psychological thriller Shutter Island, viewers should do an Internet search on the following three terms: MK-Ultra, Manchurian candidates, and Operation Paperclip. For the extended value-added search, throw in the combination of “CIA” and “LSD.”

Shutter Island is being released at a very propitious time. Just look at last Saturday’s front page of the New York Times. Above the fold we have two related stories, the first, under the inaccurate headline “A new report, a new verdict, in terror fight.” A more accurate title would read “U.S. government and Obama administration reaffirm Bush administration commitment to torture.”

The post-World War II U.S. administrations and its rising security-industrial complex covertly embraced torture and secret dosing of unsuspecting people with psychedelic drugs to control their behavior and create assets and assassins during the Red Scare. Now, overt torture done in the name of “fighting terror” has been embraced by the administration of Mr. “Hope and Change.”

The Times announced that the recent government report that exonerated “ . . . the lawyers who gave justification to the Bush administration’s brutal interrogation tactics” officially “ . . . brings to a close a pivotal chapter in the debate over the legal limits of the Bush administration’s fight against terrorism and whether its treatment of Qaeda prisoners amounted to torture.”

This means the first modern nation that banned torture in its Constitution now officially endorses torture by redefining “cruel and unusual punishment.”

J.S. Bybee, now a federal judge, and John Yoo, now a professor at the University of Califormia, Berkeley, serve in the renewed roles of Operation Paperclip Nazi war criminals brought to the United States following World War II. There is little difference between Bybee/Yoo and von Braun/Strughold.

Werner von Braun got a pass from being hanged at Nuremberg because he was useful tthe U.S. military, and later the space, industries. Hubertus Strughold, the father of U.S. space medicine, was directly responsible for the inhumane torture of human subjects at Dachau.

Leonardo DiCaprio’s character, Edward Daniels, was at the liberation of Dachau, and discovered a Paperclip Nazi on Shutter Island continuing to experiment on human subjects, only now with the sanction of the U.S. government. Only a frontal lobotomy will silence his quest for truth.

Our new mass frontal lobotomies come by way of the mainstream media with imprecise headlines and official acceptance of unacceptable government decisions. Torture by any other name, or sanctioned by a memo, is still torture.

The second front page Times article headlined “F.B.I. Shuts Book on Anthrax Case, Fatal to Five in 2001” gives us the government’s version of “the lone gunman.” Dr. Bruce E. Ivins is a minor-league version of Lee Harvey Oswald. We’re to believe that he, and he alone, sent the trillion-spores-per-gram Ames strain silicon impregnated U.S. military grade anthrax through the mail.

Nowhere in the article will you find mention of Battelle Memorial Institute, headquartered in Columbus, Ohio. The Times reported earlier on Battelle’s “Project Jefferson” and “Clear Vision,” and curious characters like William C. Patrick III and Ken Alibeck. Alibeck is the former number two man in the Soviet’s illegal biochemical program who consulted at Battelle with Patrick, another Battelle consultant who wrote a paper on sending anthrax through the mail.

Readers might want to Google Battelle, the security-industrial complex’s favorite non-profit, and their Shutter Island-like facility in West Jefferson, Ohio. The FBI originally told the Free Press that they were looking at Battelle in West Jefferson, and the profit motive of a newly-formed company that stood to make hundreds of millions of dollars off of anthrax vaccines.

We’re now to believe that it was Ivins, according to the Times, “a biodefense expert who cast blame on an alternate personality called ‘Crazy Bruce’” and anyone who doesn’t believe this story will be called the “C” word: conspiracy theorist.

Ivins, like Edward Daniels in Shutter Island, had his flaws and makes a perfect patsy for the “lone mailer” theory. Ivins, who committed suicide in 2008, allegedly stalked two women who were able to confirm that it was “Crazy Bruce,” his other personality, who sent the letters. As the Times dutifully reported, “‘Crazy Bruce,’ who surfaces periodically as paranoid, severely depressed, and ridden with incredible anxiety.”

Just like the movie Shutter Island, there’s a “Rule of 4” coded message that Ivins left, according to the FBI. The Times noted, that “Ivins embedded a complex coded message in the notes that he mailed with anthrax in 2001. The coded message, based on DNA biochemistry, alluded to two female colleagues with whom he was obsessed.”

So says the FBI; so reports the New York Times. The government also initially denied they brought Nazi war criminals into the United States, and that there was a secret harassment campaign against U.S. citizens called COINTELPRO. And, that they were dosing unsuspecting people with LSD and BZ and other psychedelic and mind-altering drugs. We should all see Shutter Island and shudder at the fact that it’s closer to the truth than we’ll ever get in corporate-controlled newspapers.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Scorsese chronicles horror film producer

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080111/ap_en_tv/film_scorsese_documentary

Scorsese chronicles horror film producer
By JAKE COYLE, AP Entertainment Writer
Fri Jan 11, 2008

"Very often," says Martin Scorsese, "anybody who will listen to me, I'll start talking about a picture."

The latest conversation piece for Scorsese is the low-budget, WWII-era horror film producer Val Lewton. Scorsese has produced the new documentary "Val Lewton: The Man in the Shadows," which he also narrates.

Written and directed by film critic, archivist and festival programmer Kent Jones, the film premieres Monday on Turner Classic Movies (8 p.m. EDT) and is followed by a marathon of Lewton's films.

The documentary came out of casual discussions between Scorsese and Jones, who have known each other since 1991 and have collaborated on other film projects. It's Jones' first film as the sole director, but one of many docs for Scorsese.

"We were talking about films and we said, `You know, we should do something about that one day,'" Scorsese says. "We've done other things, too, to try to point the way to certain kinds of films that were made in the past to younger people."

In the mold of legendary producer David O. Selznick (for whom he was an assistant), Lewton was so thoroughly involved in his films as to constitute a stamp of authorship — which is usually claimed by directors.

A Russian immigrant, Lewton worked his way up through Hollywood to eventually run a low-budget horror division of RKO, the studio that had previously released Orson Welles' films, most famously "Citizen Kane."

"Genius was out," Scorsese narrates in the documentary.

But Lewton turned out to be an unusually brilliant filmmaker. Despite meager budgets and, as Scorsese says, "terrible titles," he churned out 11 films for RKO in the `40s, including the cult classics "Cat People" (1942) and "I Walked with a Zombie" (1943) — both directed by Jacques Tourneur.

Tourneur, whose film noir "Out of the Past" (1947) is revered, was integral to establishing Lewton's simplistic style and melancholic, psychological tone.

"Lewton is really the force behind all of these films," says Scorsese. "But maybe the combination of (Lewton and Tourneur) brought out the best in each other in those two pictures."

Though often classified as horror, Jones believes Lewton's dark films were less genre convention than a "personal response to what was happening around him": WWII, the immigrant experience and the struggle for artistic success in Hollywood.

Scorsese recalls watching 1943's "The Leopard Man" as an 11 or 12 year old at the St. Mark's Theater in New York.

"That was the only film where the psychological tension got so strong that I had to leave the theater," says the director. A second trip elicited the same response, right around an especially eery and moody scene in which a woman escapes a tomb. "The murmurs were the thing," he adds.

Scorsese says that while making his Academy Award-winning film "The Departed," he watched Lewton's films continuously and found inspiration particularly for the police station scenes and those in which Matt Damon's character silently waits for response on a walkie-talkie.

Lewton and Tourneur's "Cat People" is famous for creating fright and tension often without showing the pursuing panther. One scene in which Simone Simon's character hears footsteps behind her on a dark, quiet street is especially renowned.

"What's happened is it's gone the other way in our society," says Scorsese. "We have to show everything and hear everything. Sometimes it works, but in the majority of cases, it's too noisy. ... The audience is becoming inured to everything — satiated."

Jones says Lewton was able to do more with less.

"It's more the simplicity of it," he says. "They're making use of what's there, instead of giving you the sense that they didn't have what they wanted. They made virtues out of it."

Lewton died in 1951 at just 46 years old. And despite his films' seeming disposability, they've endured for decades as strange, mournful flickers of light and shadow.

"They're part of a body of work that's inspiring to me, that I like to watch, that I continually marvel at," says Scorsese. "And that continually gives me joy and a sense of wanting to make films again.

"And that's something after making 21 or 22 features."
___
On the Net:

http://www.tcm.com/2008/vallewton/index.html