Sunday, August 19, 2007

Great Moments in Cinema... SLEUTH (1972)


55         INT. GALLERY - EVENING                                55

MILO sinks to his knees near the top step. ANDREW passes him
and stands on the gallery by the newel post.

                (terrified and
        Look... I can’t give anything back,
        can I? I mean if it hadn’t been me it
        could have been somebody else. Please
        ... I’ll go away - you won’t never ‘ear
        of me no more... Why, Andrew? Why me?

        Don’t snivel.

        I must know why!

        I’m amazed you have to ask. I hate you.
        I hate your smarmy, good-looking face
        and your easy manner. I’ll bet you’re easy
        in a ski-lodge, and easy on a yacht, and
        easy on a beach. And I knew you’d wear a
        gold charm around your neck, and I bet your
        chest is hairy, and in summer matted with
        sun oil. Above all, I hate you because
        you’re a culling blue-eyed wop - a not one
        of me - a creeping, hairdressing seducer
        of silly women, a jumped up pantry boy who
        doesn’t know his place, and who thinks that
        gentlemen are made by accents and country
        clothes. Did you really believe I would give
        up my wife and jewels to you? That I would
        make myself that ridiculous?

        Why not? You’re not in love with her.

        Whether I love her or not. I found her.
        I’ve kept her. She represents me. And once
        she was in love with me.

                (with a show of spirit)
        And now she’s in love with me, and that’s
        what you can’t forgive. And after me, there’ll
        be others. Are you going to kill them too?
        You’re mad - a bloody madman...

        And you are a young man, dressed as a clown

                                ANDREW (Cont)
        about to be murdered. Put the mask on,

        No... no please... don’t...

        Put it on!

ANDREW takes the mask off the newel post and shoves it on MILO.

        Finally at your moment of dying you are
        yourself - a snivelling dago clown.
        Farewell Punchinello!

ANDREW lifts the pistol to MILO’s head. MILO is shaking with


ANDREW fires point blank into MILO’s head. MILO falls backwards
down the stairway, crashing to the bottom where he lies still.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Where was the part where he said "...and who thinks gentlemen are made by accents and country cloths"?

Or were you just improving?

You self important cunt!