David Mamet y la plegaria

Leí sobre un hombre que gritó en el zoológico de Kiev.

Gritó: Dios me salvará, si existe.

Luego, se quitó los zapatos y se suicidó entrando a la jaula de los leones. No debe haber durado ni dos minutos adentro antes de que una leona lo derribara y le cortara la arteria carótida.

Que bueno que se quitó los zapatos.

Me recordó a una de mis escenas favoritas de Heist, una película de David Mamet. He sido fan de Mamet desde hace años y me frustra mucho que nunca haga una película realmente excelente. (También la novela suya que leí, The Old Religion, me pareció meramente buena y no excelente.) Pero, por lo menos, todas las películas que he visto están entre pasables y buenas. Su fuerte es el diálogo: ha desarrollado su propio ritmo, su propia estructura. Los críticos le llaman al resultado Mametspeak y me encanta.

La escena de Heist a la que me recordó el incidente en Kiev:

BLANE: …you feeling?
BELLA: I’m fine…
BLANE: Sometimes, th’drenaline, hits you, gives you the shakes…
BELLA: I’m alright.
BLANE: I’m saying, some people, adrenaline, gives’em the shakes… some people, mistake it for cowardice…

(Pausa.)

BELLA: I’m fine.

(Bella saca un escapulario, lo sostiene y reza. Voltea hacia BLANE.)

BLANE: …nothing wrong with prayer.

(Pausa.)

BELLA: …you think so…?
BLANE: I was in this firefight? One time? Motherfucker, always carried a bible, next to his heart. And we used to mock him. But that bible stopped a bullet.
BELLA: No shit.
BLANE: My hand to god. That bible, stopped a bullet, would have ruined that fucker’s heart.

(Pausa.)

BLANE (continúa): And had he had another bible, in front of his face, that man would be alive today.

Autor: Omar

re(des)conocido autor de 1.0 blog(s).

4 thoughts on “David Mamet y la plegaria”

  1. Esto me recuerda una tira de Garfield en la cual Johon, leyendo el periodico, lee un articulo sobre un niño que salto del tejado con alas de carton para volar y le dice a Garfield que espera que eso les enseñe algo los que intentan tales empresas, a lo que el responde “¡Claro, se necesita suficiente fe!” mientras corre con alas de carton para saltar al vacio desde la mesa.
    El mismo caso se aplica al pobre hombre devorado, como lo atestigua el “si existe” que sello su destino, seguramente de haber dicho solo “Dios me salvara” seguiria con nosotros.

  2. Respecto a Mamet, tienes toda la razon, sus dialogos son de un ingenio no visto normalmente en el cine.
    Para cooperar con dialogos ingeniosos, aqui esta uno de mis favoritos de Monty Python, entre el Rey Arturo y campesinos:

    ARTHUR and PATSY riding. They stop and look. We see a castle in the distance, and before it a PEASANT is working away on his knees trying to dig up the earth with his bare hands and a twig. ARTHUR and PATSY ride up, and stop before the PEASANT

    ARTHUR: Old woman!

    DENNIS: Man!

    ARTHUR: Man. I’m sorry. Old man, What knight live in that castle
    over there?

    DENNIS: I’m thirty-seven.

    ARTHUR: What?

    DENNIS: I’m thirty-seven … I’m not old.

    ARTHUR: Well – I can’t just say: “Hey, Man!’

    DENNIS: Well you could say: “Dennis”

    ARTHUR: I didn’t know you were called Dennis.

    DENNIS: You didn’t bother to find out, did you?

    ARTHUR: I’ve said I’m sorry about the old woman, but from the behind you looked …

    DENNIS: What I object to is that you automatically treat me like an inferior …

    ARTHUR: Well … I AM king.

    DENNIS: Oh, very nice. King, eh! I expect you’ve got a palace and fine clothes and courtiers and plenty of food. And how d’you get that? By exploiting the workers! By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the social and economic differences in our society! If there’s EVER going to be any progress …

    An OLD WOMAN appears.

    OLD WOMAN: Dennis! There’s some lovely filth down here … Oh! How d’you do?

    ARTHUR: How d’you do, good lady … I am Arthur, King of the Britons … can you tell me who lives in that castle?

    OLD WOMAN: King of the WHO?

    ARTHUR: The Britons.

    OLD WOMAN: Who are the Britons?

    ARTHUR: All of us are … we are all Britons.

    DENNIS winks at the OLD WOMAN.

    … and I am your king ….

    OLD WOMAN: Ooooh! I didn’t know we had a king. I thought we were an autonomous collective …

    DENNIS: You’re fooling yourself. We’re living in a dictatorship, a self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes …

    OLD WOMAN: There you are, bringing class into it again …

    DENNIS: That’s what it’s all about … If only –

    ARTHUR: Please, please good people. I am in haste. What knight lives in that castle?

    OLD WOMAN: No one live there.

    ARTHUR: Well, who is your lord?

    OLD WOMAN: We don’t have a lord.

    ARTHUR: What?

    DENNIS: I told you, we’re an anarcho-syndicalist commune, we take it in turns to act as a sort of executive officer for the week.

    ARTHUR: Yes.

    DENNIS: … But all the decision of that officer …

    ARTHUR: Yes, I see.

    DENNIS: … must be approved at a bi-weekly meeting by a simple majority in the case of purely internal affairs.

    ARTHUR: Be quiet!

    DENNIS: … but a two-thirds majority …

    ARTHUR: Be quiet! I order you to shut up.

    OLD WOMAN: Order, eh — who does he think he is?

    ARTHUR: I am your king!

    OLD WOMAN: Well, I didn’t vote for you.

    ARTHUR: You don’t vote for kings.

    OLD WOMAN: Well, how did you become king, then?

    ARTHUR: The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, held Excalibur aloft from the bosom of the water to signify by Divine Providence … that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur … That is why I am your king!

    |OLD WOMAN: | Is Frank in? He’d be able to deal with this one.

    DENNIS: Look, strange women lying on their backs in ponds handing out swords … that’s no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.

    ARTHUR: Be quiet!

    DENNIS: You can’t expect to wield supreme executive power just ‘cause some watery tart threw a sword at you!

    ARTHUR: Shut up!

    DENNIS: I mean, if I went around saying I was an Emperor because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me, people would put me away!

    ARTHUR: (Grabbing him by the collar) Shut up, will you. Shut up!

    DENNIS: Ah! NOW … we see the violence inherent in the system.

    ARTHUR: Shut up!

    PEOPLE (i.e. other PEASANTS) are appearing and watching.

    DENNIS: (calling) Come and see the violence inherent in the system. Help, help, I’m being repressed!

    ARTHUR: (aware that people are now coming out and watching) Bloody peasant! (pushes DENNIS over into mud and prepares to ride off)

    DENNIS: Oh, Did you hear that! What a give-away.

    ARTHUR: Come on, patsy.

    They ride off.

    DENNIS: (in the background as we PULL OUT) Did you see him repressing me, then? That’s what I’ve been on about …

  3. El ultimo comentario, lo pormeto, pero no pude resistir la tentacion de presentar este otro dialogo, tambien de Monty Pyton, en el que se aplica puntualmente el metodo cientifico, bueno, exeptuando un par de falacias…

    A village. Sound of chanting of Latin canon, punctuated by short, sharp cracks. It comes nearer. We see it is a line of MONKS ala SEVENTH SEAL flagellation scene, chanting and banging themselves on the foreheads with wooden boards. They pass a group of villagers who are dragging a beautiful YOUNG WOMAN dressed as a witch through the streets. They drag her to a strange house/ruin standing on a hill outside the village. A strange-looking knight stands outside, SIR BEDEVERE.

    FIRST VILLAGER: We have found a witch. May we burn her?

    ALL: A Witch! Burn her!

    BEDEVERE: How do you know she is a witch?

    ALL: She looks like one. Yes, she does.

    BEDEVERE: Bring her forward.

    They bring her forward – a beautiful YOUNG GIRL (MISS ISLINGTON) dressed up as a witch.

    WITCH: I am not a witch. I am not a witch.

    BEDEVERE: But you are dressed as one.

    WITCH: They dressed me up like this.

    ALL: We didn’t, we didn’t!

    WITCH: This is not my nose, It is a false one.

    BEDEVERE takes her nose off.

    BEDEVERE: Well?

    FIRST VILLAGER: … Well, we did do the nose.

    BEDEVERE: The nose?

    FIRST VILLAGER: And the hat. But she is a witch.

    ALL: A witch, a witch, burn her!

    BEDEVERE: Did you dress her up like this?

    FIRST VILLAGER: Um … Yes … no … a bit … yes… she has got a wart.

    BEDEVERE: Why do you think she is a witch?

    SECOND VILLAGER: She turned me into a newt.

    BEDEVERE: A newt?

    SECOND VILLAGER: (After looking at himself for some time) I got better.

    ALL: Burn her anyway.

    BEDEVERE: Quiet! Quiet! There are ways of telling whether she is a witch.

    ARTHUR and PATSY ride up at this point and watch what follows with interest

    ALL: There are? Tell us. What are they, wise Sir Bedevere?

    BEDEVERE: Tell me … what do you do with witches?

    ALL: Burn them.

    BEDEVERE: And what do you burn, apart from witches?

    FOURTH VILLAGER: … Wood?

    BEDEVERE: So why do witches burn?

    SECOND VILLAGER: (pianissimo) … Because they’re made of wood…?

    BEDEVERE: Good.

    PEASANTS stir uneasily then come round to this conclusion.

    ALL: I see. Yes, of course.

    BEDEVERE: So how can we tell if she is made of wood?

    FIRST VILLAGER: Make a bridge out of her.

    BEDEVERE: Ah … but can you not also make bridges out of stone?

    ALL: Ah. Yes, of course … um … err …

    BEDEVERE: Does wood sink in water?

    ALL: No, no, It floats. Throw her in the pond Tie weights on her. To the pond.

    BEDEVERE: Wait. Wait … tell me, what also floats on water?

    ALL: Bread? No, no, no. Apples …. gravy … very small rocks …

    ARTHUR: A duck.

    They all turn and look at ARTHUR. BEDEVERE looks up very impressed.

    BEDEVERE: Exactly. So… logically …

    FIRST VILLAGER: (beginning to pick up the thread) If she … weighs the same as a duck … she’s made of wood.

    BEDEVERE: And therefore?

    ALL: A witch! … A duck! A duck! Fetch a duck.

    FOURTH VILLAGER: Here is a duck, Sir Bedevere.

    BEDEVERE: We shall use my largest scales.

    He leads them a few yards to a very strange contraption indeed, made of wood and rope and leather. They put the GIRL in one pan and the duck in another. Each pan is supported by a wooden stave. BEDEVERE checks each pan then … ARTHUR looks on with interest.

    BEDEVERE: Remove the supports.

    Two PEASANTS knock them away with sledge hammers. The GIRL and the duck swing slightly but balance perfectly.

    ALL: A witch! A witch!

    WITCH: It’s a fair cop.

    All: Burn her! Burn her! Let’s make her into a ladder.

    The VILLAGERS drag the girl away, leaving ARTHUR and BEDEVERE regarding each other admiringly.

    BEDEVERE: Who are you who are so wise in the ways of science?

    ARTHUR: I am Arthur, King of the Britons.

    BEDEVERE: My liege … forgive me …

    ARTHUR looks at PATSY with obvious satisfaction.

    ARTHUR: Good Sir knight, will you come with me to Camelot, and join our number at the Round Table?

    BEDEVERE: My liege, I am honored.

    ARTHUR steps forward, drawing his sword, with a slight hint of difficulty

    ARTHUR: What is your name?

    BEDEVERE: Bedevere, my Liege.

    ARTHUR: Then I dub you … Sir Bedevere … Knight of the Round Table!

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