A Clockwork Orange (1971)
Alex: It's funny how the colors of the real world only seem really real when you viddy them on the screen.
Alex: No. No! NO! Stop it! Stop it, please! I beg you! This is sin! This is sin! This is sin! It's a sin, it's a sin, it's a sin!
Dr. Brodsky: Sin? What's all this about sin?
Alex: That! Using Ludwig van like that! He did no harm to anyone. Beethoven just wrote music!
Dr. Branom: Are you referring to the background score?
Dr. Branom: You've heard Beethoven before?
Dr. Brodsky: So, you're keen on music?
Dr. Brodsky: Can't be helped. Here's the punishment element perhaps.
Alex: There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie, and Dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar trying to make up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening. The Korova milkbar sold milk-plus, milk plus vellocet or synthemesc or drencrom, which is what we were drinking. This would sharpen you up and make you ready for a bit of the old ultra-violence.
Prison Chaplain: Goodness is something to be chosen. When a man cannot choose he ceases to be a man.
Alex: No time for the old in-n-out, love, I've just come to read the meter.
Conspirator: Do you still feel suicidal?
Alex: Well, put it this way, I feel very low in myself. I can't see much in the future, and I feel that any second something terrible is going to happen to me.
[slumps into spaghetti]
Alex: Welly, welly, welly, welly, welly, welly, well. To what do I owe the extreme pleasure of this surprising visit?
[listening to Beethoven's Ninth Symphony]
Alex: Oh bliss! Bliss and heaven! Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh. It was like a bird of rarest-spun heaven metal or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now. As I slooshied, I knew such lovely pictures!
Alex: Ho, ho, ho! Well, if it isn't fat stinking billy goat Billy Boy in poison! How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap, stinking chip oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if ya have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly thou!
Female Psychaitrist: Now then. Each of the slides needs a reply from one of the people in the picture. You tell me what you think the person would say. Alright?
Alex: Righty right.
Female Psychaitrist: [Changes to a slide with two people looking at a peacock] "Isn't the plumage beautiful?"
Alex: I just say what the other person would say?
Female Psychaitrist: Yes.
Alex: Isn't the plumage beautiful...
Female Psychaitrist: Oh yes well don't think about it too long, just say the first thing that pops into your mind.
Alex: Cabbages, knickers, uh, it's not got a... A BEAK!
Female Psychaitrist: Good.
[Changes to a slide with a women and two boys]
Female Psychaitrist: "The boy you always quarrelled with is seriously ill."
Alex: My mind is a blank. Uh, and I'll smash your face for you, yarblockos!
Female Psychaitrist: Good.
[Changes slide to a man climbing into a naked woman's bedroom]
Female Psychaitrist: "What do you want?"
Alex: Uh, no time for the ol' in-out, love. I've just come to read the meter!
Female Psychaitrist: Good.
[Changes slide to a man in a clock store]
Female Psychaitrist: "You sold me a crummy watch, I want my money back."
Alex: You know what you can do with that watch? Stick it up your ass!
Female Psychaitrist: Good.
[Changes slide to woman handing bird eggs to a man]
Female Psychaitrist: "You can do whatever you like with these."
Alex: Eggiweggs. I would like... to smash them. And pick 'em all up, and THROW-
[moves injured arm]
Alex: OW! Fucking hell!
Female Psychaitrist: Well there, that's all there is to it. Are you alright?
Alex: Hope so. Is that the end then?
Female Psychaitrist: Yes.
Alex: I was quite enjoying that.
Female Psychaitrist: Good, I'm glad!
Alex: How many did I get right?
Female Psychaitrist: It's not that kind of a test, but you seem well on the way to making a complete recovery!
Alex: I woke up. The pain and sickness all over me like an animal. Then I realized what it was. The music coming up from the floor was our old friend, Ludwig Van, and the dreaded Ninth Symphony.
Alex: As we walked along the flatblock marina, I was calm on the outside, but thinking all the time. So now it was to be Georgie the general, saying what we should do and what not to do, and Dim as his mindless greeding bulldog. But suddenly I viddied that thinking was for the gloopy ones and that the oomny ones use, like, inspiration and what Bog sends. For now it was lovely music that came to my aid. There was a window open with the stereo on and I viddied right at once what to do.
[Alex has just struck Dim on the legs]
Dim: What did you do that for?
Alex: For being a bastard with no manners, and not a dook of an idea how to comport yourself public-wise, O my brother.
Dim: I don't like you should do what you done, and I'm not your brother no more and wouldn't want to be.
Alex: Watch that. Do watch that, O Dim, if to continue to be on live thou dost wish.
Dim: Yarbles! Great bolshy yarblockos to you. I'll meet you with chain or nozh or britva anytime, not having you aiming tolchocks at me reasonless. Well, it stands to reason I won't have it.
Alex: A nozh scrap any time you say.
Dim: Doobidoob. A bit tired, maybe. Best not to say more. Bedways is rightways now, so best we go homeways and get a bit of spatchka. Right, right?
Alex: What you got back home, little sister, to play your fuzzy warbles on? I bet you got little save pitiful, portable picnic players. Come with uncle and hear all proper! Hear angel trumpets and devil trombones. You are invited.
Alex: I jumped, O my brothers, and I fell hard but I did not snuff it, oh no. if I had snuffed it, I would not be here to tell what I have told.
[Alex encounters his old friends, who are now police]
Alex: It's impossible! I can't believe it!
Georgie: Evidence of the ol' glassies! Nothing up our sleeves, no magic little Alex! A job for two who are now of job age! The police!
Alex: We were all feeling a bit shagged and fagged and fashed, it being a night of no small expenditure.
[Alex chats up two girls sucking penis-shaped lollies]
Alex: Enjoying that are you my darlin'? Bit cold and pointless isn't it my lovely? What's happened to yours my little sister?
Alex: Hi, hi, hi there! At last we meet. Our brief govoreet through the letter-hole was not, shall we say, satisfactory, yes?
Alex: You needn't take it any further, sir. You've proved to me that all this ultraviolence and killing is wrong, wrong, and terribly wrong. I've learned me lesson, sir. I've seen now what I've never seen before. I'm cured! Praise god!
Dr. Brodsky: You're not cured yet, boy.
Alex: It had been a wonderful evening and what I needed now to give it the perfect ending was a bit of the old Ludwig van.
Prison Chaplain: Choice! The boy has not a real choice, has he? Self-interest, the fear of physical pain drove him to that grotesque act of self-abasement. The insincerity was clear to be seen. He ceases to be a wrongdoer. He ceases also to be a creature capable of moral choice.
Minister: Padre, there are subtleties! We are not concerned with motives, with the higher ethics. We are concerned only with cutting down crime and with relieving the ghastly congestion in our prisons. He will be your true Christian, ready to turn the other cheek, ready to be crucified rather than crucify, sick to the heart at the thought of killing a fly. Reclamation! Joy before the angels of God! The point is that it works.
Minister: What crime did you commit?
Alex: The accidental killing of a person, sir.
Chief Guard Barnes: He brutally murdered a woman, sir, in furtherance of theft. Fourteen years, sir!
Minister: Excellent. He's enterprising, aggressive, outgoing, young, bold, vicious. He'll do.
Governor: Well, fine, we could still look at C-block...
Minister: No, no, no. That's enough. He's perfect. I want his records sent to me. This vicious young hoodlum will be transformed out of all recognition.
Alex: Thank you very much for this chance, sir.
Minister: Let's hope you make the most of it, my boy.
[Alex has the tramp pinned down]
Tramp: Well, go on, do me in you bastard cowards! I don't want to live anyway, not in a stinking world like this!
Alex: Oh? And what's so stinking about it?
Tramp: It's a stinking world because there's no law and order anymore! It's a stinking world because it lets the young get on to the old, like you done. Oh, it's no world for an old man any longer. What sort of a world is it at all? Men on the moon, and men spinning around the earth, and there's not no attention paid to earthly law and order no more.
[He starts singing another song, and Alex and his droogs proceed to beat him]
Alex: Excuse me, Mrs. Can you please help? There's been a terrible accident! My friend's in the middle of the road bleeding to death! Can I please use your telephone for an ambulance?
[about his wife]
Frank Alexander: She was very badly raped, you see! We were assaulted by a gang of vicious, young, hoodlums in this house! In this very room you are sitting in now! I was left a helpless cripple, but for her the agony was too great! The doctor said it was pneumonia; because it happened some months later! During a flu epidemic! The doctors told me it was pneumonia, but I knew what it was! A VICTIM OF THE MODERN AGE! Poor, poor girl!
Alex: Suddenly, I viddied what I had to do, and what I had wanted to do, and that was to do myself in; to snuff it, to blast off for ever out of this wicked, cruel world. One moment of pain perhaps and, then, sleep for ever, and ever and ever.
Alex: Hey dad, there's a strange fella sittin' on the sofa munchy-wunching lomticks of toast.
Dad: That's Joe. He lives here now. The lodger, that's what he is. He rents your room.
Alex: Naughty, naughty, naughty! You filthy old soomka!
Alex: Appy-polly-loggies. I had something of a pain in the gulliver so had to sleep. I was not awakened when I gave orders for wakening.
Minister: As I was saying, Alex, you can be instrumental in changing the public verdict. Do you understand, Alex? Have I made myself clear?
Alex: As an unmuddied lake, friend. As clear as an azure sky of deepest summer. You can rely on me, friend.
Minister: Oh, yes. I understand you're fond of music. I have arranged a little surprise for you.
Minister: One that I hope that you will like. As a um... how shall we put it? As a symbol of our new understanding. An understanding between two friends.
Minister: Punishment means nothing to them, you can see that. They enjoy their so-called punishment.
Alex: You're absolutely right, sir.
Chief Guard Barnes: Shut your bleeding hole!
[Staring at Alex's penis]
Chief Guard Barnes: Are you now, or have you ever been a homosexual?
Tramp: In Dublin's fair city / Where the girls are so pretty, / I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone. / As she wheel'd her wheel barrow, / Thro' streets broad and narrow, / Crying "cockles and mussels alive alive O!" / "alive, alive O! Alive, alive O! / Crying Cockles and Mussels alive, alive O!" / As everybody's knowing, You've got a decent tongue, / Whene'er it's set agoing.
Alex: What we were after now was the old surprise visit. That was a real kick and good for laughs and lashings of the old ultraviolent.
Alex: The Durango '95 purred away a real horrowshow - a nice, warm vibraty feeling all through your guttiwuts. And soon it was trees and dark, my brothers, with real country dark.
Alex: And the first thing that flashed into my gulliver was that I'd like to have her right down there on the floor with the old in-out, real savage.
Alex: I've suffered the tortures of the damned, sir
[with innocent reinforcement]
- tortures of the damned.
P.R. Deltoid: [giggling maniacally] You are now a murderer, Alex! A murderer!
Alex: Not true, sir. It was only a slight tolchock. She was breathing, I swear it!
P.R. Deltoid: I've just come from the hospital! Your victim has died!
Alex: You try to frighten me, admit so, sir. This is some new form of torture! Say it, Brother Sir.
P.R. Deltoid: It'll be your own torture. I hope to God it'll torture you to madness!
Det. Const. Tom: [to Deltoid] If you'd like to give him a quick bash in the chops, sir, don't mind us. We'll hold him down. He must be a great disappointment to you, sir.
[Deltoid slowly gathers saliva and spits in Alex's face]
Prison Chaplain: What's it going to be, eh? Is it going to be in and out of institutions like this? Well, more in and out for most of ya! Or are you going to attend to the Divine Word and realise the punishments that await unrepentant sinners in the next world as well as this? A lot of idiots you are, selling your own birthright for a saucer of cold porridge! The thrill of theft! Of violence! The urge to live easy! Well, I ask you what is it worth when we have undeniable truth - yes! Incontrovertible evidence that Hell exists! I know! I know my friends! I have been informed in visions that there is a place darker than any prison, hotter than any flame of human fire, where souls of unrepentant criminal sinners like yourselves...!
[an inmate belches, prompting the rest to laugh]
Prison Chaplain: Don't you laugh, damn you! Don't you laugh! I say like yourselves scream in endless and unendurable agony! Their skin rotting and peeling! A fireball spinning in their screaming guts! I know! Oh yes, I know!
[Another inmate makes a raspberry noise, prompting them to laugh again]
Mum: But you've not been to school all week, son.
Alex: Got to rest, Mum. Got to get fit. Otherwise I'm liable to miss a lot more school.
Alex: One thing I could never stand was to see a filthy, dirty old drunkie, howling away at the filthy songs of his fathers and going blurp blurp in between as it might be a filthy old orchestra in his stinking, rotten guts. I could never stand to see anyone like that, whatever his age might be, but more especially when he was real old like this one was.
Minister: [addressing the audience] But enough of words, actions speak louder than. Action now. Observe all.
Minister: You seem to have a whole ward to yourself, my boy.
Alex: Yes, sir, and a very lonely place it is too, sir, when I wake up in the middle of the night with my pain.
Minister: Yes... well, good to see you on the mend!
Dim: Hello, Lucy. Had a busy night? We've been working hard, too. Pardon me, Luce.
Georgie: [They've just stopped a band of tramps from beating up Alex] What's the trouble, sir?
Alex: [looks up and recognizes them] Oh no!
Dim: Well. Well, well. Well, well, well, well, if it isn't little Alex. Long time no viddy, droog. How goes?
Alex: It's... it's impossible. I don't believe it.
Georgie: Evidence of the old glazzies. Nothing up their sleeves. No magic, little Alex. A job for two, who are now of job age. The police.
Frank Alexander: [hears knocking on the door] Who on Earth could that be?
Julian: I'll see who it is.
[goes to the front door]
Julian: Yes, what is it?
Alex: [barely audible] Help... please... help... help.
Julian: [opens the door and Alex collapses at the doorway. He carries Alex into the house] Frank, I think this young man needs some help.
Frank Alexander: [surprised by Alex's poor condition] My God! What happened to you, my boy?
Alex: [voice-over] And would you believe it, o my brothers and only friends. There was your faithful narrator being held helpless, like a babe in arms, and suddenly realizing where he was and why home on the gate had looked so familiar, but I knew I was safe. For in those care-free days, I and my so-called droogies wore our maskies, which were like real horror-show disguises.
Alex: [nervous] Police... ghastly horrible police... they beat me up, sir.
[sees Frank has a foul look on his face, apparently not believing him]
Alex: The police beat me up, sir.
Frank Alexander: [excited] I know you!
Frank Alexander: Isn't it your picture in the newspapers? Didn't I see you on the video this morning? Are you not the poor victim of this horrible new technique?
Alex: [relieved] Yes, sir! That's exactly who I am and what I am, sir. A victim, sir!
Frank Alexander: Then, by God, you've been sent here by providence! Tortured in prison, then thrown out to be tortured by the police. My heart goes out to you, poor, poor boy. Oh, you are not the first to come here in distress. The police are fond of bringing their victims to the outskirts of this village. But it is providential that you, who are also another kind of victim should come here.
Frank Alexander: [finally remembering Alex's state] Oh, but you're cold and shivering. Julian, draw a bath for this young man.
Julian: Certainly, Frank.
Alex: [as he is being carried off by Julian] Thank you very much, sir. God bless you, sir.
Chief Guard Barnes: Pick that up and put it down properly!
Alex: So I waited and, O my brothers, I got a lot better munching away at eggiwegs, and lomticks of toast and lovely steakiwegs and then, one day, they said I was going to have a very special visitor.
[the Minister enters]
Minister: Good evening, my boy.
Alex: What are we gonna do? Talk about me sex life?
Psychiatrist: Oh, no. I'm going to show you some slides and you're going to tell me what you think about them. Alright?
Alex: Jolly good. Do you know anything about dreams?
Psychiatrist: Something, yes.
Alex: Do you know what they mean?
Psychiatrist: Perhaps. Are you concerned about something?
Alex: Oh, no, no... not concerned really. But I've been having this very nasty dream. Very nasty.
Psychiatrist: Now, each of these slides needs a reply from somebody in the picture. You tell me what you think the person would say. Alright?
Chief Guard Barnes: Are you able to see the white line painted on the floor directly behind you, Six-Double-Five-Three-Two-One?
Alex: Yes, sir.
Chief Guard Barnes: Then your toes belong on the *other* side of it!
Alex: Hi, hi, hi, Mr. Deltoid. Funny surprise, seeing you here.
P.R. Deltoid: Ah, Alex boy! Awake at last, yes? I met your mother on the way to work, yes? She gave me the key. She said something about a pain somewhere, hence not at school, yes?
Alex: A rather intolerable pain in the head, brother sir. I think it should be clear by this after lunch.
P.R. Deltoid: Mmm. Or certainly by this evening, yes? The evening's the great time, isn't it, Alex boy? Hmm?
Alex: Cup of the old chai, sir?
P.R. Deltoid: No time, no time, yes. Sit, sit, sit!
Alex: To what do I owe this extreme pleasure, sir? Anything wrong, sir?
P.R. Deltoid: Wrong? Why should you think of anything being wrong? Have you been doing something you shouldn't, yes?
Alex: Just a manner of speech, sir.
P.R. Deltoid: Yes. Well, it's just a manner of speech from your post-corrective advisor to you that you watch out, little Alex, because next time, it's not going to be the corrective school anymore. Next time, it's going to be the barley place and all my work ruined. If you've no respect for your horrible self, you at least might have some for me, who've sweated over you. A big black mark, I tell you, for every one we don't reclaim. A confession of failure for every one of you who ends up in the stripy hole.
Alex: I've been doing nothing I shouldn't, sir. The Millicents have nothing on me, brother. Sir, I mean.
P.R. Deltoid: Cut out this clever talk about Millicents. Just because the police haven't picked you up lately doesn't, as you very well know, mean that you've not been up to some nastiness. That was a bit of a nastiness last night, yes? Some very extreme nastiness, yes? A few of a certain Billy Boy's friends were ambulanced off late, yes. Your name was mentioned. The words got through to me by the usual channels. Certain friends of yours were named also. Oh, nobody can prove anything about anybody, as usual. But I'm warning you, little Alex, being a good friend to you, as always, the one man in this sore and sick community who wants to save you from yourself!
P.R. Deltoid: What gets into all? We studied the problem. We've been studying it for damn well near a century, yes, but we get no further with our studies. You got a good home here. Good, loving parents. You've got not too bad of a brain. Is it some devil that crawls inside of you?
Alex: Nobody's got anything on me, brother sir. I've been out of the rookers of the Millicents for a long time now.
P.R. Deltoid: That's just what worries me. A bit too long to be safe. You're about due now, by my reckoning. That's why I'm warning you, little Alex, to keep your handsome young proboscis out of the dirt. Do I make myself clear?
Alex: As an unmuddied lake, sir. As clear as an azure sky of deepest summer. You can rely on me, sir.
Tramp: Could you spare some cutter, me brother?
Mum: Well, like he says, it's mostly odd things he does. Helping like... here and there as it might be.