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The Night Of The Iguana has been one of my favorite films since my very first viewing of it, decades ago.
I revisit it regularly.
Chickenhearted's thread featuring Ava Gardner inspired me to post some of Ava's wonderful lines from the film there.
When I first saw Iguana, I was a very young man who had not yet encountered any real tragedy.
Things are different today.
After suffering the loss of my entire immediate family (except for my daughter and son-in-law), I have known how it feels to be a broken man. Thank God, I am healing beautifully, but those awful memories still remain.
I suppose they always will.
Recently, I took another look at Iguana, and I found that, from the perspective of brokenness, I had a completely new take on what I was hearing! In fact, this play opened up for me like never before! For the first time...I GET IT!
I'd like to begin by repeating the sequences that I posted at the Ava Gardner thread:
MAXINE: Miss Jelkes, honey, you are a hustler. A fantastic, cool hustler. You're completely broke, 'eh?
HANNAH: Yes we are. Completely.
MAXINE: You say that like you're proud of it.
HANNAH: I'm not proud of it, nor ashamed of it either. It just happens to be what's happened to us.
MAXINE: No sweat. Old Fred used to say that those words summed up all the wisdom of the East.
HANNAH: Fred?
MAXINE: My late husband. I loved old Fred. He was twenty-eight years older than me, and we hadn't slept together in I don't know when. Fred used to say he guessed he was impotent, but if you ask me honey, he plain lost interest.
Later, when Maxine becomes jealous of Shannon's attentions toward Hannah:
MAXINE: That's the trouble. The trouble is Shannon. I caught the vibrations between you two.
HANNAH: Mrs. Falk, I'm a New England spinster who is pushing forty...
MAXINE: Well, who the hell isn't? I'm good at catching vibrations. And there were vibrations between you two. Mutual vibrations, the minute you got here. And that, believe me, just that, is enough to put me in a lather. And don't ask me why. Look at him. Broke. Spooked. As good as fired.
HANNAH: Those are only his circumstances, Mrs. Falk. NOT the man himself.
Here are the final lines in the film:
MAXINE: It's not hot yet, Shannon. Why don't we go down to the beach?
SHANNON: I can get downhill, Maxine, but I'm not too sure about getting back up.
MAXINE: I'll get you back up, baby. I'll always get you back up.
Those lines never fail to get me all weak in the knees. What man would NOT move heaven and earth to be with this woman?
Hannah shares an intimacy with Shannon:
HANNAH: I've discovered something to believe in.
SHANNON: What?
HANNAH: Broken barriers between people. A wanting to help each other. Through nights like this.
SHANNON: One night stands.
HANNAH: One night communications between them. On a veranda, outside their separate cubicles.
SHANNON: You don't mean physically, do you?
HANNAH: No.
SHANNON: I didn't think you did. Is that what you advocate for me? Is that what you call a human relationship? You and grandpa there?
HANNAH: Yes, Mr. Shannon. Yes, I do. We make a home for each other, my grandfather and I. Oh, I don't mean a regular home, because I don't regard a home as a place; a building, bricks, wood, stone. I think of a home as something two people have between them, in which each can nest, rest, live in, emotionally speaking. I am a human being, Mr. Shannon. And when one of that unique species builds its nest in the heart of another, the questions of permanence and propagation are not the first, or even the last things to be considered. What is important is that one is never alone.
Finally, here is grandpa's poem. He finishes composing it with his final breath, and I must confess that I did not begin to fully understand the deep meaning of it until my life totally fell apart:
How calmly does the olive branch
Observe the sky begin to blanch;
Without a cry, without a prayer,
With no betrayal of despair;
Sometime while light obscures the tree
The zenith of its life will be
Gone past forever.
And from thence,
A second history will commence;
A chronicle no longer gold,
A bargaining with mist and mold,
And finally the broken stem,
The plummeting to earth, and then
An intercourse not well designed
For beings of a golden kind,
Whose native green must arch above
Earth's obscene, corrupting love.
And still the ripe fruit and the branch
Observe the sky begin to blanch;
Without a cry, without a prayer,
With no betrayal of despair.
Oh courage! Could you not as well
Select a second place to dwell?
Not only in that golden tree,
But in the frightened heart of me!
These words bring tears to my eyes today. There was a time, and not so long ago, when they flew right over my dense skull.
If you are still here, would you share some favorite words of your own?
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Posted: |
Feb 17, 2013 - 3:55 PM
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By: |
BobJ
(Member)
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From Cast A Deadly Spell-Always loved this speech.
Connie Stone: Dammit, Phil, everybody's gotta compromise!
Phil Lovecraft: That's what I keep hearing.
Connie Stone: And what makes you so special?
Phil Lovecraft: What makes me special is I'm my own man. When I started out I said there were things I'd do and things I wouldn't do. A lot of guys start out like that, and a lot of them sell out along the way. But the more who fall, the easier it gets. "See, look, everybody compromises, everybody cheats, everybody uses magic." So they empty their ideals out of their pockets and get down to the job of sticking it to their neighbors before they stick it to them, because that's that way it's done. To all of which I say nuts. My collar may be a little frayed, and maybe I need a shoeshine. But nobody's got a mortgage on my soul. I own it. Free and clear.
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For individual scenes, there are far too many movies. For complete screenplay, my top 2 are: THE BIRDS and DIAL M FOR MURDER.
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Posted: |
Feb 17, 2013 - 6:13 PM
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By: |
SBD
(Member)
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Peter Hyams had a way with dialogue in CAPRICORN ONE, but this exchange may well be my favorite in all of film:
"Well, how nice of you to join us here."
"Listen, I think I've got something."
"You need a dermatologist?"
"Don't tell me. I'll get it...George Raft, right?"
"Where the hell have you been?"
"I think I got something; something really big. It could be your actual ball game."
"Well, golly gee, Scoop, that sounds interesting."
"They know I'm onto them. They've already tried to kill me."
"Who's 'they'?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"You won't believe me."
"You don't think so?"
"I got a tip from a friend, a good friend, then he disappeared."
"Just disappeared."
"Like he never existed. There's some lady living in his apartment now. It's all different. She says she's been living there for more than a year. I checked the building rental office. They have receipts from her for more than a year. I checked with NASA personnel. They have no record that my friend ever worked there. They said they never even heard of him."
"So, this friend of yours gives you a tip and pfffft! he disappears, and it turns out he never lived in his apartment, he never worked at NASA, and this is the guy that gives you a tip on your cosmic scoop and you think I won't believe you."
"My car. Someone tampered with my car."
"The one you decided to go swimming with?"
"They did something to it. I couldn't stop it."
"Can you prove it?"
"The police said...they said that nothing was wrong."
"And you think I won't believe you."
"Somebody took a shot at me."
"When?"
"Yesterday."
"Thank God I've got an alibi."
"I'm telling you the truth!"
"Listen to me and listen good: I don't like you, Caulfield. You're ambitious. You think the way to get ahead is to come up with the scoop of the century. Woodward and Bernstein were good reporters. That's how they did it. Not by telling me they've located Patty Hearst three times like you did. Or that brilliant piece of investigative journalism you pulled off by finding an eyewitness to the second gunman at the Kennedy assassination. The small fact that the man had been in a mental institution at the time never deterred you, not 'Scoop' Caulfield. Now, most reporters are like me. They are plodders. They spend a lot of their time checking little things like facts. They cover mundane stories like wars and trials and hearings. You never seem to have enough time in your busy schedule to stoop so low as to cover a story. You occupy your time with tips from people who never existed. Driving your car into water and claiming it wasn't your fault. Getting shot at by unseen gunmen. Now, I really hate to interrupt your meteoric career with something so plebian as a legitimate story. However, a trainload of propane gas had the bad taste to derail near Galveston and there's a whole town that just might blow up, so it'd be really peachy of you to join your film crew that's waiting for you on the plane at this very moment while we speak."
"That was some speech."
"I thought so."
"I cannot go to Galveston right now."
"I don't think I heard you."
"Look...when a reporter tells his assignment editor that he thinks he's onto something that could be really big, the assignment editor is supposed to say, 'You got 48 hours, kids and you better come up with something good or it's going to be your neck!'. That's what he's supposed to say. I saw it in a movie."
"Get your ass on that plane."
"I can't. I have to follow this."
"And you can't tell me what this Earth-shattering story is?"
"It sounds too crazy. If I told you, I could be in more trouble."
"You're not crazy. I'm crazy. I'm crazy for listening and I'm crazy for saying what I'm about to say: I'll give you 24 hours to come up with something, not 48. I saw the movie, too. It was 24!"
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Posted: |
Feb 17, 2013 - 8:17 PM
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By: |
Adam.
(Member)
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Toward the conclusion of SE7EN, when John Doe is in the rear seat of the police car guiding detectives Somerset and Mills to the last two bodies. John Doe explains his reasons for his murder spree...
Mills - I've been trying to figure something. Maybe you can help me out. When a person is insane, as you clearly are, do you know that you're insane? Maybe you're just sitting around reading Guns 'n Ammo, masturbating in your own feces, do you just stop and go "Wow, it is amazing how fucking crazy I really am." Do you guys do that?
Doe - It's more comfortable for you to label me insane.
M - It's very comfortable.
D - It's not something I'd expect you to accept, but I did not choose. I was chosen.
Somerset - I don't doubt that you believe that, John, but it seems to me you're overlooking a glaring contradiction.
D - Meaning what?
S - Glad you asked. If you were chosen by a higher power and if your hand was forced, seems strange to me you would get such enjoyment out of it. You enjoyed torturing those people. Just doesn't seem in keeping with martyrdom, does it?
M - John?
D - I doubt I enjoyed it any more than detective Mills would enjoy time alone with me in a room without windows. Isn't that true? How happy would it make you to hurt me with impunity?
M - That hurts my feelings. I would never....
D - You wouldn't only because there's consequences. It's in those eyes of yours, though. Nothing wrong with a man taking pleasure in his work. I won't deny my own personal desire to turn each sin against the sinner.
M - Wait a minute. I thought all you did was kill innocent people.
D - Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny? An obese man. A disgusting man who could barely stand up. A man who, if you saw him on the street, you'd point him out to your friends so they could join you in mocking him. A man who, if you saw him while you were eating you wouldn't be able to finish your meal. After him I picked the lawyer and you both must have secretly been thanking me for that one. This is a man who dedicated his life to making money by lying with every breath he could muster to keeping murderers and rapists on the street! A woman...
M - Murderers, John, like yourself.
D - (continuing)...a woman so ugly on the inside that she couldn't bear to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A drug dealer, a drug dealing pederast, actually! And let's not forget the disease spreading whore. Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. But that's the point. We see a deadly sin on every street corner, in every home, and we tolerate it. We tolerate it because it's common...it's trivial. We tolerate it morning, noon and night. Well, not anymore. I'm setting the example... and what I've done is going to be puzzled over... and studied...and followed forever.
M - Yeah. Delusions of grandeur.
D - You should be thanking me.
M - Why is that, John?
D - Because you're going to be remembered after this. Realize, detective, the only reason that I'm here right now is that I wanted to be.
M - No, we would have got you eventually.
D - Oh, really? So what were you doing? Biding your time? Toying with me? Allowing five innocent people to die until you felt like springing your trap? Tell me, what was the indisputable evidence you were going to use on me right before I walked up to you and put my hands in the air?
M - John, calm down. I seem to remember us knocking on your door.
D - Oh, that's right, and I seem to remember... breaking your face. You're only alive because I didn't kill you. I spared you. Remember that, detective, every time you look in the mirror at that face of yours for the rest of your life. Or should I say for the rest of what life I've allowed you to have.
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Posted: |
Feb 17, 2013 - 9:55 PM
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By: |
BobJ
(Member)
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From The Maltese Falcon
Kasper Gutman: You're a close-mouthed man?
Sam Spade: Nah, I like to talk.
Kasper Gutman: Better and better. I distrust a close-mouthed man. He generally picks the wrong time to talk and says the wrong things. Talking's something you can't do judiciously, unless you keep in practice.
[sits back]
Kasper Gutman: Now, sir. We'll talk, if you like. I'll tell you right out, I am a man who likes talking to a man who likes to talk.
Sam Spade: Swell. Will we talk about the black bird?
---------------------------------------------------------------
Sam Spade: When a man's partner is killed, he's supposed to do something about it. It doesn't make any difference what you thought of him. He was your partner and you're supposed to do something about it. And it happens we're in the detective business. Well, when one of your organization gets killed, it's-it's bad business to let the killer get away with it, bad all around, bad for every detective everywhere.
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Posted: |
Feb 17, 2013 - 11:49 PM
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By: |
Octoberman
(Member)
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I have MANY favorites, but this is the first thing that popped into my head (I know, it's not exactly "dialogue")...
So close - the infinitesimal and the infinite. But suddenly, I knew they were really the two ends of the same concept. The unbelievably small and the unbelievably vast eventually meet - like the closing of a gigantic circle.
I looked up, as if somehow I would grasp the heavens. The universe, worlds beyond number, God's silver tapestry spread across the night. And in that moment, I knew the answer to the riddle of the infinite. I had thought in terms of man's own limited dimension. I had presumed upon nature. That existence begins and ends is man's conception, not nature's.
And I felt my body dwindling, melting, becoming nothing. My fears melted away. And in their place came acceptance. All this vast majesty of creation, it had to mean something. And then I meant something, too. Yes, smaller than the smallest, I meant something, too.
To God, there is no zero. I still exist.
Science fiction is frequently philosophical, but rarely is it this poetic. To this day this narration gives me goosebumps.
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