We are close on the leering face of a demon carved in stone.
Head credits play as we pull slowly back. Our move ends framed low to put the gargoyle against an overcast sky. A large black bird alights upon it as other birds –...
Yeah, I worked in a barbershop. But I never considered myself a barber …
We track back from a barber’s pole.
… I stumbled into it – well, married into it more precisely …
We track back from a shopkeeper’s bell triggered...
...White letters on a black screen:
A Serious ManEverything that happens to youRashi
Snowflakes Falling in Black
The flakes drift lazily down toward us. Our angle looks straight up.
Now an angle looking steeply down: the snow falls...
...House at Night
We are looking – through the rain-pelted windshield of a parked car – at a small, Spanish-style bungalow. The rattle of driving rain does not quite cover the sound from inside the house of drunken female laughter....
...A Whiskey Tumbler
It sits on an oak bar under a glowing green banker’s lamp. Two ice cubes are dropped in. From elsewhere in the room:
ManoffI’m talkin’ about friendship. I’m talkin’ about character. I’m talkin’ about – hell, Leo, I ain’t...
...At the Bar
Pappi Corsicatto, the Greenwich Village-Italian owner of the club, nods Llewyn over. He is broadly smiling.
Pappi Boy, you were some mess last night.
Llewyn Yeah, sorry, Pappi. I’m an asshole.
Pappi Oh I don’t give a shit. It’s...
...On Barton Fink
He is a bespectacled man in his thirties, hale but somewhat bookish. He stands, tuxedoed, in the wings of a theater, looking out at the stage, listening intently to the end of a performance.
In the shadows behind him an old...
A man in shades.
His sunglasses and the windshield of the car he drives reflect palm trees flashing by on either side. He is well dressed, in his early forties, with a little rat ponytail.
He slows in front of a swank Beverly Hills...
It is late; the supermarket is all but deserted. We are tracking in on a fortyish man in Bermuda shorts and sunglasses at the dairy case. He is the Dude. His rumpled look and relaxed manner suggest a man in whom casualness runs...
An opening voice-over plays against dissolving Texas landscapes – broad, bare, and lifeless.
The world is full of complainers. But the fact is, nothing comes with a guarantee. I don’t care if you’re the Pope of Rome,...
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