I've been meaning to do this in a while. A sorta database of some of my favourite movie *quasi-monologs*. Hopefully this list will expand. May my enthusiasm for watching what is often opined to be boring movies never cease.
I love movies with dialogue. Prolly coz it remind me of me. Conversation is not just how we reveal ourselves to the world, its often how we hide ourselves from it. And the discerning know when they really are being given a chance to look through the peephole into our lives, and when they're actually being fooled into looking somewhere else. Regardless, conversation is how we project ourselves. Perhaps, so is silence. The greatest secrets are to be gleaned in dark corners, on starless nights, and from long silences and mutters, from when they look away and not when they look straight at you. Nvm... all i'm really trying to say, I like movies with a lotta dialogue and very few characters.
My fair lady-
Its absolutely my favourite movie. I crave to watch it sometimes. The kinda craving that drug addicts get. Yep, I'm addicted to the movie. I still dunno all the words byheart- but its something I'll achieve by the time its time for me to introduce it to my lil girl (or boy- but i don't think he'll get it).
My fair lady, to me, is not just a movie. Its a sybol of my parents' love for me, who for some strange reason made me watch it a million times, revelled when I sang back the song, or a dialogue. I've grown being influenced by that movie somehow- i dunno how. Its there though, etched somewhere deep. Its also one of my neuroses- what if I make my daughter watch it, and she isn't the least bit impressed by it. What if??? *shudders*.
And here's where genetics comes to the rescue. My mom loves the movie, so does my dad. The gene for "my fair lady" appreciation, is in both sets of my chromosomes. My daughter, therefore is definitely gonna get one of 'em. So unless she gets a chromosome from a dad who hates "my fair lady" (which seems impossible, coz i don't see how i'll even end up marrying that creep!!!), chances are my lil girl won't turn a cold shoulder. But ... its one of my neuroses alright!!
I know your head aches.
I know you're tired.************************
I know your nerves are as raw
as meat in a butcher's window.
But think what you're trying to accomplish.
Just think what you're dealing with.
The majesty and grandeur
of the English language....
It's the greatest possession we have.
The noblest thoughts that ever flowed
through the hearts of men...
...are contained in its extraordinary,
...and musical mixtures of sounds.
And that's what you've set yourself
out to conquer, Eliza.
And conquer it you will.
SHALL WE DANCE
Here's a line in shall we dance, where Susan sarandon describes why she thinks we want to be married. I've said this before, and I'll say it again. It is probably very simply and undecorated. Yet it's at once the most practical and romantic reason for why we wanna be married. Because we wanna know that our journey was not spent doing most of the travelling alone. I suppose she put it better than I can...
"We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on this planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But, in a marriage, you are promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things, all of it, all the time, every day. You're saying, 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go unwitnessed because I will be your witness."
And sometimes, you're talking about something else, and you learn something totally different.
I loved "sideways" because of that. The discussion of why maya and miles like wine is not about their love for wine. Its about who they are, and why they are so. Watch the movie- everything before this discussion and after might seem pointless, but for this one conversation, the movie was worth it.
Can I ask you a personal question?
Why are you so into Pinot? It's like
a thing with you.
Miles laughs at first, then smiles wistfully at the question.
He searches for the answer in his glass and begins slowly.
I don't know. It's a hard grape to
grow. As you know. It's thin-skinned,
temperamental, ripens early. It's
not a survivor like Cabernet that
can grow anywhere and thrive even
when neglected. Pinot needs constant
care and attention and in fact can
only grow in specific little tucked-
away corners of the world. And only
the most patient and nurturing growers
can do it really, can tap into Pinot's
most fragile, delicate qualities.
Only when someone has taken the time
to truly understand its potential
can Pinot be coaxed into its fullest
expression. And when that happens,
its flavors are the most haunting
and brilliant and subtle and thrilling
and ancient on the planet.
Maya has found this answer revealing and moving.
I mean, Cabernets can be powerful
and exalting, but they seem prosaic
to me for some reason. By comparison.
How about you?
What about me?
I don't know. Why are you into wine?
I suppose I got really into wine
originally through my ex-husband. He
had a big, kind of show-off cellar.
But then I found out that I have a
really sharp palate, and the more I
drank, the more I liked what it made
me think about.
Yeah? Like what?
Like what a fraud he was.
No, but I do like to think about the
life of wine, how it's a living thing.
I like to think about what was going
on the year the grapes were growing,
how the sun was shining that summer
or if it rained... what the weather
was like. I think about all those
people who tended and picked the
grapes, and if it's an old wine, how
many of them must be dead by now. I
love how wine continues to evolve,
how every time I open a bottle it's
going to taste different than if I
had opened it on any other day.
Because a bottle of wine is actually
alive -- it's constantly evolving
and gaining complexity. That is,
until it peaks -- like your '61 --
and begins its steady, inevitable
decline. And it tastes so fucking
Good Will Hunting-
Anyone who wasn't moved by this monologue is simply insensitive. The location was perfect- at a park bench near a lake. Robin William's rendition is perfect, so's damon's stiff posture all the time revealing that there's a softer more insecure interior.
SEANRight- there's really nothing I can say there, except exclaim !!!
So if I asked you about art you could
give me the skinny on every art book
You know a lot about him I bet. Life's
work, criticisms, political aspirations.
But you couldn't tell me what it smells
like in the Sistine Chapel. You've
never stood there and looked up at
that beautiful ceiling. And if I asked
you about women I'm sure you could
give me a syllabus of your personal
favorites, and maybe you've been laid
a few times too. But you couldn't
tell me how it feels to wake up next
to a woman and be truly happy. If I
asked you about war you could refer me
to a bevy of fictional and non-fictional
material, but you've never been in
one. You've never held your best
friend's head in your lap and watched
him draw his last breath, looking to
you for help. And if I asked you about
love I'd get a sonnet, but you've never
looked at a woman and been truly
vulnerable. Known that someone could
kill you with a look. That someone
could rescue you from grief.
That God had put an angel on Earth
just for you. And you wouldn't know
how it felt to be her angel. To have
the love be there for her forever.
Through anything, through cancer. You
wouldn't know about sleeping sitting
up in a hospital room for two months
holding her hand and not leaving because
the doctors could see in your eyes
that the term "visiting hours" didn't
apply to you. And you wouldn't know
about real loss, because that only
occurs when you lose something you
love more than yourself, and you've
never dared to love anything that much.
I look at you and I don't see an
intelligent confident man, I don't see
a peer, and I don't see my equal. I
see a boy. Nobody could possibly
understand you, right Will? Yet you
presume to know so much about me because
of a painting you saw. You must know
everything about me. You're an orphan,
Will nods quietly.
Do you think I would presume to know
the first thing about who you are
because I read "Oliver Twist?" And I
don't buy the argument that you don't
want to be here, because I think you
like all the attention you're getting.
Personally, I don't care. There's
nothing you can tell me that I can't
read somewhere else. Unless we talk
about your life. But you won't do
that. Maybe you're afraid of what
you might say.
We're all closet damsels in distresses. Often those damstrels are princesses, who are caught between pretending to be someone and wanting badly to just be themselves. Some of them are unluckier- they don't even know who themself really is. They want to find out. They need help finding out. They need the knight in shining armour. But you see... while damsel in distress ain't a metaphor, knight in shining armour is a metaphor. He's not a prince from a far away land. Not a stud using a different ferrari each day. Often not even articulate. He's the one who'll sit next to you in a park bench and just let you sit there, thinking to yourself, his hand ever ready to hold yours when you need to, at the right position which is re-assuring without being condescending, so you can take it when you need to, but is never forced upon you.
Hugh Grant, acts as though he's the lad in distress, but in reality he's the knight. We all need knights. While we're okay with all the world believing that we're cold, unfeeling, sensitive creatures, we can't truly stand the one person, who has the ability to see us for what we are, to buy the world's mis informed opinion. Yet they all do....
I live in Notting Hill. You live in
Beverly Hills. Everyone in the world
knows who you are. My mother has
trouble remembering my name.
Okay. Fine. Fine. Good decision.
The fame thing isn't really real, you
know. Don't forget -- I'm also just a
girl. Standing in front of a boy.
Asking him to love her.
That's all folks.