Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

Foreign films, Cliff thought, were more like novels. They didn't care if you liked the main character or not. And Cliff found that intriguing.

Ninety-seven percent of everybody you’ve ever met in your life, and ninety-seven percent of everybody you’ll ever meet in your life, have spent ninety-seven percent of their lives running away from fear.

When a man of principle battles a scoundrel, the scoundrel always at first has the upper hand. Because there are some things the man of principle won’t do.

Life is a bleeding, screaming, violently jerking pig in your arms. And death is you holding a bunch of heavy unmoving meat.

Cliff never wondered what Americans would do if the Russians, or the Nazis, or the Japanese, or the Mexicans, or the Vikings, or Alexander the Great ever occupied America by force. He knew what Americans would do. They’d shit their pants and call the fucking cops.

And for the first time in years, Rick realizes how fortunate he is and was. All the wonderful actors he's worked with through the years—Meeker, Bronson, Coburn, Morrow, McGavin, Robert Blake, Glenn Ford, Edward G. Robinson. All the different actresses he got to kiss. All the affairs he had. All the interesting people he got to work with. All the places he got to visit. All the fun stories he got to live. All the times he saw his name and picture in the papers and magazines. All the nice hotel rooms. All the fuss people made over him. All the fan mail he never read. All the times driving through Hollywood as a citizen in good standing. He looks around at the fabulous house he owns. Paid for by doing what he used to do for free when he was a little boy: pretending to be a cowboy.

I’m okay now, just embarrassed. Sorry about this humiliating display.” “Display?” Marvin snorts. “What are you talking about? We’re human people; human people cry. It’s a good thing.

No, he wants to help me get into Italian movies.” Quick comeback from Cliff: “Then what’s the problem?” Rick screams, “I gotta do fuckin’ Italian movies, that’s the goddamn fuckin’ problem!

But now comes the cold-war resentment. Sharon has such a sunny presence that whenever she blocks out the sun, the effect is chilling.

The Kids at the ranch weren’t hip to exactly how much Charlie wanted to be a rock star. How much he wanted fame, money, and recognition. Because to them, Charlie preached against those base desires. They thought Charlie was on a spiritual path to enlightenment. They thought Charlie’s true desire was to pass on that enlightenment. They thought Charlie’s goal was to create a new world order guided by that enlightenment and love for all Mankind. They believed Charlie had a higher purpose, because he told them he did, and they believed him. It never would occur to them that he’d ditch all that horseshit in a minute to put on revolutionary war outfit and trade places with Mark Lindsay.

Also, it’s a little odd to assume all your patrons are thieves.

Now, many directors could and would say, So what? It’s just a movie. You don’t have to believe in giant monkeys to direct King Kong.

Oh, and Miss Himmelsteen, short of my wife and kids dead on the highway, hold all my calls. In fact, if my wife and kids are dead, well, they’ll all be just as dead thirty minutes from now, so hold all my calls.

Due to Cliff's good looks, he'd been manipulating women to do things against their best interests his whole life.

CLIFF’S TOP KUROSAWA FILMS (tie) Seven Samurai and Ikiru Yojimbo Throne of Blood Stray Dog The Bad Sleep Well (for the opening scene alone)

Well thank you, Trudi,” Now falsely modest again. “But I Don’t think I won the scene.” “Well, of course, you did,” dismissing his protest. “You had all the dialogue but,” she warns him. “In our big scene tomorrow, that’s another story. So watch out.

the soles of her huge bare feet,

The directions say to add milk and butter, but Cliff thinks if you can afford to add milk and butter you can afford to eat something else.

You might not want to do it, but you can do it. In fact, a case could be made, if you can’t do it, you don’t deserve to eat pork.

Cliff putting out fires for Rick has been an essential part of their dynamic since the two became a team.

Referring to the time Invasion of the Body Snatchers producer Walter Wanger shot Jennings Lang in the groin for fucking his wife, Joan Bennett,

Can Miss Himmelsteen get you a tasty beverage?

The Ox-Bow Incident, Body and Soul, White Heat, The Third Man, The Brothers Rico, Riot in Cell Block 11

What’s the secret?” Cliff asked. “Simple,” said the maq. “Fuck ’em good. Fuck ’em real good. And fuck ’em real good real often.” Cliff smiled, but the French fella assured him, “Hey, that’s harder than it sounds. You can’t fuck ’em like you fuck your girlfriend. You can’t fuck ’em like you fuck your best friend’s girlfriend. You can’t fuck ’em like you fuck your father’s mistress. That’s fucking for fun. This is work. For work, they fuck customers for money. For work, you fuck them for money. And trust me, they’re harder to please. If you want to keep ’em in line, you better fuck ’em good, and you better fuck ’em a lot. Which means you’re gonna hafta fuck ’em when you don’t wanna fuck ’em. But even when you don’t wanna fuck ’em, you hafta fuck ’em, and you hafta fuck ’em good. And the more bitches you have, the more fuckin’ you’re gonna do. More bitches means more fuckin’. ...

But I want you to tell me what it is you think I do.” “Well,” Rick says, “the way it was explained to me is you put famous American talent in foreign films.” “Not bad,” Marvin says.

Do you like this cigarette case?” “It’s very nice.” “It’s a gift. From Joseph Cotten. One of my most cherished clients.” Rick gives Marvin the impressed expression the agent is demanding.

Okay, Marvin thinks, that’s the second time Rick has put down his Tanner co-star Michael Callan. That’s not a good sign. It suggests stinginess in spirit. It suggests a blamer. But Marvin keeps these thoughts to himself.

You want me to look like some goddamn hippie? Rick thinks. “You want me to look like a goddamn hippie?” Rick questions with a skeptical face.

Rick, who was in his floaty chair in the swimming pool at the time of the attack, was almost shot by the hippie girl with the pistol. He later told authorities, “That goddamn hippie almost blew my fuckin’ head off!