Divine or not, a seizure's a seizure.

I love you, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.

I am afraid you leave me no alternative but to introduce you to two of my associates.  Bruno is almost blind, has to operate wholly by touch.  Klaus is a moron who knows only what he reads in the New York Post.  I believe they never let a man lose consciousness, no matter how long they work on him.

Pearson: Probably everybody’d be nice to you if they knew you was dyin’.

Arthur:  Everybody knows everybody’s dyin’.  That’s why people are as good as they are.

I promised I’d put her in the film…somewhere.

Tonight’s film was The Long, Hot Summer.  Just Orson Welles, Paul Newman, Joanne Woodward and William Faulkner—  no big deal, right?

I have to say, even the Hollywood bowdlerization of the story can’t take away from the power (and darkness) of Orson Welles.

Ok, so I liked Viggo Mortenson as Freud.

Detachment is possibly my favorite film of the last year.  It isn’t because it’s about a teacher, though the significance of that is not lost on me.  Rather, I like it because it asks pertinent questions about us, and doesn’t feel obliged to answer them.  Adrien Brody handles himself well in the part too, keeping his performance nuanced and subtle, rather than going for the pathetic throat.  While it’s certainly filled with bleak images, it doesn’t wallow or judge.