The Written Word Spoken on Film, Vol. 1

Over the past week or so I've been pondering more and more about what I consider some of the greatest film dialog ever written. Being a novice filmmaker and screenwriter myself, it can be extremely difficult to get the right words, out of the right character, at the right time. When it does happens, however, it just instantly clicks and you know it's right.

What people have to understand with delivering the perfect line is that it's a group effort. It may be brilliant on page, but if the director and the actor(s) don't understand the importance of those words--and don't execute it thusly--then it could very well end up on the cutting room floor. I learned this lesson from personal experience when shooting my first film.

Here are just a few of my favorite pieces of dialog ever filmed, whether they're one-liners, monologues, or a conversation.

THE USS INDIANAPOLIS MONOLOGUE
Film: JAWS
Year: 1975

Sometimes brilliant dialog will come from one writer, one voice. This was not the case here. Instead, it was originally conceived by playwright Howard Sackler, put into the script by screenwriters Carl Gottlieb and Peter Benchley (adapted from his novel), extended by John Milius, and then eventually rewritten by Robert Shaw, who was delivering the lines.

The scene starts out in a very fun and amusing manner, where Quint and Hooper begin to compare scars and share "war stories" about their adventures out on the sea. Within a few minutes, the mood takes a 180 turn when a scar is questioned by Brody about Quint's removed tattoo of the USS Indianapolis. The end result is one of the eeriest monologues ever told, all while bobbing around on the ocean waiting, wondering when the shark is going to appear next. With Shaw it was all about the pacing, timing, and delivery of each word:

Japanese submarine slammed two torpedoes into our side, Chief. We was comin' back from the island of Tinian to Leyte... just delivered the bomb. The Hiroshima bomb. Eleven hundred men went into the water. Vessel went down in 12 minutes. Didn't see the first shark for about a half an hour. Tiger. 13-footer. 

You know how you know that when you're in the water, Chief? You tell by looking from the dorsal to the tail. What we didn't know, was our bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signal had been sent. They didn't even list us overdue for a week. Very first light, Chief, sharks come cruisin', so we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know, it was kinda like old squares in the battle like you see in the calendar named "The Battle of Waterloo" and the idea was: shark comes to the nearest man, that man he starts poundin' and hollerin' and screamin' and sometimes the shark go away... but sometimes he wouldn't go away. Sometimes that shark he looks right into ya. Right into your eyes. 

And, you know, the thing about a shark... he's got lifeless eyes. Black eyes. Like a doll's eyes. When he comes at ya, doesn't seem to be living... until he bites ya, and those black eyes roll over white and then... ah then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin'. The ocean turns red, and despite all the poundin' and the hollerin', they all come in and they... rip you to pieces. 

You know by the end of that first dawn, lost a hundred men. I don't know how many sharks, maybe a thousand. I know how many men, they averaged six an hour. On Thursday morning, Chief, I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player. Boatswain's mate. I thought he was asleep. I reached over to wake him up. Bobbed up, down in the water just like a kinda top. Upended. Well, he'd been bitten in half below the waist. 

Noon, the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura saw us. He swung in low and he saw us... he was a young pilot, a lot younger than Mr. Hooper. Anyway, he saw us and he come in low and three hours later a big fat PBY comes down and starts to pick us up. You know that was the time I was most frightened... waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on a lifejacket again. 

So, eleven hundred men went in the water; 316 men come out and the sharks took the rest, June the 29th, 1945. Anyway, we delivered the bomb.

AN OUTRAGED (AND DRUNK) LT. KAFFEE
Film: A Few Good Men
Year: 1992

As much as a I hate to admit it, but only because of this writer's political standings, I am a huge Aaron Sorkin fan. The unfortunate fact is that if I was forced to stop watching films made by those who are a part of the liberal elite, my film library would quickly be reduced to films by Clint Eastwood, Bruce Willis, and Jon Voight. But I digress...

Aaron Sorkin has written so much material that it's sometimes hard to reference just one specific piece. After writing almost every single episode of The West Wing's first four seasons, along with several films, and even more television shows, his library is rather vast with source material. His writing also suites actors that have the uncanny ability to memorize--and deliver, mind you--a very large amount of dialog crammed into a small scene.  If you don't believe me, then watch the first scene of The Social Network and discover why he'll win the Oscar on Sunday night.

It was hard to pick one, but left to think on it overnight, I came to the conclusion to use the scene where Lt. Kaffee arrives drunk and addresses his legal team that they no longer have a solid case. He then reveals that their defendants have lied, that their surprise star witness has committed suicide, which leads to a boiling over of Kaffee's anger and fear of a possible court-martial if he puts Col. Jessep on the stand and accuses him of conspiracy.

It's the perfect example of a excellent third act scene where our protagonist has been pushed so far that he feels like he cannot continue on in his journey. It is a little long (at least for this post), but the payoff is fantastic, especially Tom Cruise's bubbling-yet-ferocious sarcastic execution.

JO: Are you drunk?
KAFFEE: Pretty much. Yeah.
JO: I'll make a pot of coffee. We have a long night's work ahead.
KAFFEE: She's gonna make coffee. That's nice. (Pause) He wasn't in his room. He wasn't even there. (Pause) That was an important piece of information, don't you think?
JO: Danny, it was just a setback. I'm sorry. But we'll fix it and then move on to Markinson.
KAFFEE: Markinson's dead. You really gotta hand it to those Federal Marshals, boy. It's not like he hanged himself by his shoelaces or slashed his wrists with a concealed butter knife. This guy got, into full dress uniform, stood in the middle of that room, drew a nickle plated pistol from his holster, and fired a bullet into his mouth. (Pause) Anyway, since we seem to be out of witnesses, I thought I'd drink a little.
JO: I still think we can win.
KAFFEE: Then maybe you should drink a little.
JO: Look, we'll go to Randolph in the morning and make a motion for a continuance. 24 hours.
KAFFEE: Why would we want to do that?
JO: To subpoena Colonel Jessep.
KAFFEE: What?
JO: Listen for a second--
KAFFEE: No.
JO: Just hear me out--
KAFFEE: No. I won't listen to you and I won't hear you out. Your passion is comforting, Jo. It's also useless. Private Downey needed a trial lawyer today.
JO: You chicken-s**t. You're gonna use what happened today as an excuse to give up.
KAFFEE: It's over!
JO: Why did you ask Jessep for the transfer order?
KAFFEE: What are you--
JO: In Cuba. Why did you ask Jessep for the transfer order?
KAFFEE: What does it matter--
JO: Why?!
KAFFEE: I wanted the damn transfer order!
JO: Bulls**t! You could've gotten it by picking up the phone and calling any one of a dozen departments at the Pentagon. You didn't want the transfer order. You wanted to see Jessep's reaction when you asked for the transfer order. You had an instinct. And it was confirmed by Markinson. Now damnit, let's put Jessep on the stand and end this thing!
KAFFEE: What possible good could come from putting Jessep on the stand?
JO: He told Kendrick to order the Code Red.
KAFFEE: He did?! Why didn't you say so!? That's qreat! And of course you have proof of that.
JO: I--
KAFFEE: Ah, I keep forgetting: You were sick the day they taught law at law school.
JO: You put him on the stand and you get it from him!
KAFFEE: Yes. No problem. We get it from him. (to SAM) Colonel, isn't it true that you ordered the Code Red on Santiago?
SAM: Look, we're all a little--

KAFFEE: I'm sorry, your time's run out. What do we have for the losers, Judge? Well, for our defendants it's a lifetime at exotic Fort Levenworth. And for defense counsel Kaffee? That's right--It's-- A Court-Martial. Yes, Johnny, after falsely accusing a marine officer of conspiracy, Lt. Kaffee will have a long and prosperous career teaching typewriter maintenance at the Rocco Columbo School for Women. Thank you for playing "Should We or Should-We-Not Follow the Advice of the Galacticly Stupid!"

MICHAEL DORSEY, HIS AGENT AND THE CAMERAMAN
Film: Tootsie
Year: 1982

There are so many fantastic lines of dialog spoken in Tootsie that it was hard to pick just one. Michael Dorsey, a hypocritical out-of-work actor who teaches a workshop telling his pupils that they need to adapt to the material, but has a hard time finding work because he won't compromise his craft, finds work disguised as a woman working on a soap opera.

Instead of choosing just one, I've selected four segments from Tootsie that demonstrate the comedic genius of Larry Gelbart and Murray Schisgal, the direction of Sydney Pollack, and the spot-on timing of Dustin Hoffman (as well as the rest of the cast).

The first two examples I'll be sharing both take place in the same scene, where Michael argues with his agent played by Sydney Pollack, about how difficult an actor he is to work with. So much so, that he can't find work anymore on either coast.

George Fields: Where do you come off sending me your roommate's play for you to star in? I'm your agent, not your mother! I'm not supposed to find plays for you to star in - I'm supposed to field offers! And that's what I do!
Michael Dorsey: 'Field offers?' Who told you that, the Agent Fairy? That was a significant piece of work - I could've been terrific in that part.
George Fields: Michael, nobody's gonna do that play.
Michael Dorsey: Why?
George Fields: Because it's a downer, that's why. Because nobody wants to produce a play about a couple that moved back to Love Canal.
Michael Dorsey: But that actually happened!
George Fields: WHO GIVES A S**T? Nobody wants to pay twenty dollars to watch people living next to chemical waste! They can see that in New Jersey!

Michael Dorsey: Are you saying that nobody in New York will work with me?
George Fields: No, no, that's too limited... nobody in Hollywood wants to work with you either. I can't even set you up for a commercial. You played a tomato for 30 seconds - they went a half a day over schedule because you wouldn't sit down.
Michael Dorsey: Of course. It was illogical.
George Fields: YOU WERE A TOMATO! A tomato doesn't have logic. A tomato can't move.
Michael Dorsey: That's what I said. So if he can't move, how's he gonna sit down, George? I was a stand-up tomato: a juicy, sexy, beefsteak tomato. Nobody does vegetables like me. I did an evening of vegetables off-Broadway. I did the best tomato, the best cucumber... I did an endive salad that knocked the critics on their ass!

The third line makes me laugh every time I hear it or even just think about it. Already knowing that Dustin Hoffman does not make a very attractive man, let alone a woman, the cameraman is instructed to pull back his camera during Michael's screen test.

Rita: I'd like to make her look a little more attractive, how far can you pull back?
Cameraman: How do you feel about Cleveland?

My final selection comes at the end of the film. Throughout the picture you discover that Michael Dorsey has very few redeeming qualities. By the end of the film, however, he's learned how to respect women and in doing so has become a better man.

Julie: I miss Dorothy.
Michael Dorsey: You don't have to. She's right here. And she misses you. Look, you don't know me from Adam. But I was a better man with you, as a woman... than I ever was with a woman, as a man. You know what I mean? I just gotta learn to do it without the dress. At this point, there might be an advantage to my wearing pants. The hard part's over, you know? We were already... good friends.