sábado, 5 de septiembre de 2009

Best Scenes Ever: "No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan".

A veces pienso que Spike Lee es un director español oculto en Hollywood. Básicamente porque todas sus películas tienen ese ramalazo de denuncia social que se destila en nuestra patria (sin embargo, cuando me doy cuenta de que sus largometrajes son estupendos, caigo en que no, que español no es).
The 25th Hour ("La Última Noche", en España), no se queda atrás, y vuelve a retratar un nuevo aspecto marginal de la sociedad americana.

The 25th Hour (2002)


Montgomery Brogan (Grandioso y espectacular como nunca Edward Norton) es un traficante de droga condenado a siete años de carcel. El último día antes de ingresar en prisión lo dedica a estar con sus amigos, su novia y su padre (enormes también Philip Seymour Hoffman, Barry Pepper, Rosario Dawson, Anna Paquin y, comiendose la pantalla, Brian Cox).


Para mi gusto y consideración, esta película tiene dos escenas sobresalientes, pero como una de ellas es el final, me he decidido a compartir esta otra. He dejado una transcripción del momento más abajo para quien lo necesite. Si no lo entiendes, haber estudiado cuando te lo dijeron.

Montgomery Brogan cena con su padre, para despedirse. Al ir al baño y mirarse al espejo, afronta su propia realidad...

Well, fuck you, too. Fuck me, fuck you, fuck this whole city and everyone in it. Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back. Fuck the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job! Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores, stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35. Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English? Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from! Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds! Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gekko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for FUCKING LIFE! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Worldcom! Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, 'cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good. Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their, Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos. Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermes scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart! Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take five steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on! Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust! Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin' Otisville, J! Fuck Osama Bin Laden, Al Qaeda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal Irish ass! Fuck Jacob Elinsky, whining malcontent. Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass. Fuck Naturelle Riviera, I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back, sold me up the river, fucking bitch. Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to firemen, cheering the Bronx bombers. Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row-houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue, from the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split-levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it, let the fires rage, let it burn to fucking ash and then let the waters rise and submerge this whole rat-infested place...
No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all, and you threw it away, you dumb fuck!

3 comentarios:

Sádica Amarilla dijo...

Plas plas plas :D

Anónimo dijo...

Si señor. Gran escena, gran pelicula.

Mr. Lombreeze dijo...

Momentazo de cine antológico de una película sensacional. Para mí la mejor de Spike Lee.