The Rocketeer (1991)
Neville Sinclair: C'mon, Eddie. I'm paying you well. Does it really matter where the money comes from?
[siding with the G-men to fight the Nazis]
Eddie Valentine: It matters to me. I may not make an honest buck, but I'm 100% American. I don't work for no two-bit Nazi. Let the girl go!
[Neville laughs, then calls out - in German - a group of hidden armed Sturmabteilung German soldiers who promptly hold everyone at gunpoint]
Cliff Secord: What was that line again? Oh my prince...
Jenny: ...would that you drink of my lips...
Cliff Secord: Thanks, I don't mind if I do.
Peevy: You got a good thing goin' on with that girl, Clifford. And I'm tellin' you right now, if she flies the coop, it's gonna be your fault.
Cliff Secord: Aw, what do you know about women, Peev? You haven't had a date since 1932.
Peevy: [wistfully] Flora Maxwell. There wasn't any point datin' nobody after her.
Cliff Secord: Jenny, prepare yourself for a shock: I'm the Rocketeer.
Jenny: The Rocke-who?
Cliff Secord: [frustrated] Oh, for crying out loud, haven't you read the papers?
Jenny: No, I've been working all day.
Jenny: [to Neville] Do you have to drug all your women to seduce them? You're part of this. You kidnapped me.
Neville Sinclair: Against my will, believe me. I'm as much a victim as you are. They're blackmailing me. These are brutal, ruthless men, Jenny.
[Valentine and his gang have brought Secord and the rocket to Neville Sinclair]
Cliff Secord: What's it like working for a Nazi, Eddie? Does he pay you in dollars or Deutschmarks?
Eddie Valentine: What's he talking about, Sinclair?
Cliff Secord: Oh, yeah, Eddie! I got it straight from the Feds. Nazi spy ring, Flying Commandos, the works!
Neville Sinclair: He's been flying where the air's too thin.
Jenny: Tell him about the secret room. Tell him about the Germans on the radio!
Goose: [pointing a gun at Lothar] Easy, Frankenstein. You ain't bulletproof!
Eddie Valentine: Start talking, Sinclair!
Cliff Secord: Why don't you stick that welding torch in my ear, and call it the end of a perfect day.
[after smashing a flower pot on Neville's head, knocking him out]
Jenny: I've finally played a scene with Neville Sinclair.
Mrs. Pye, Girls Dormitory Matron: You know my rules: no gentlemen allowed inside after 6 PM.
Cliff Secord: But I'm not a gentleman.
Mrs. Pye, Girls Dormitory Matron: You're telling me.
Jenny: Oh my God. Neville Sinclair's a...
Neville Sinclair: [confronting her] A what? Spy? Saboteur? Fascist? All of the above.
Cliff Secord: [Cliff knocks Neville down] Where's your stuntman now, Sinclair?
Neville Sinclair: [knocking Cliff down] I do my own stunts!
Howard Hughes: How did it feel, strapping that thing to your back and flying like a bat out of hell?
Cliff Secord: [awed] Well it's the closest I'll ever get to heaven.
[looking over at Jenny]
Cliff Secord: Well maybe not.
Jenny: Everything about you is a lie.
Neville Sinclair: It wasn't lies, Jenny. It was acting.
[laughs evilly, unaware of the gas leak]
Neville Sinclair: I shall miss Hollywood.
[Neville straps the rocket on and leaves]
Cliff Secord: I don't think so.
[the rocket explodes, killing Neville and crashes into the Hollywoodland sign, destroying the last four letters]
Newsreel Announcer: Herr Hitler assures the western powers he is not massing troops at the Czech border. Here comes the Fuehrer's latest symbol of German progress, the airship Luxembourg, beginning its American tour to promote world peace.
Cliff Secord: World peace! What he means is a piece of the world.
Howard Hughes: [about to show Cliff the Nazi propaganda film] It cost a man's life to get this out of Germany.
Victor, Filmstage Director: Acting is acting like you're *not* acting, so act, but don't *act* like you're acting.
FBI Agent Fitch: [to Wilmer] Your buddy's getting fitted for a pine overcoat. If you make it to County General, Alcatraz is your new digs. Spit it out, Wilmer! Where's the package?
Wilmer, Wounded Robber: Blown to hell. Why don't you go look for it?
Charlie, Filmstage Actor: [Engaged in swordfight with Neville] Prepare to die that we may learn the identity of The Laughing Bandit!
Neville Sinclair: Why wait?
Noblewoman in Laughing Bandit: [gasps]
Nobleman in Laughing Bandit: Good heavens, it's Sir Reginald!
Neville Sinclair: None other!
FBI Agent 'Wooly' Wolinski: [chasing the rocket thieves] Hey, Fitch, trying to save on ammo? Nail 'em!
FBI Agent Fitch: I can't get a clean shot! I wish that black-and-white would get out of the way!
[the thieves shoot at the police car, causing a tire to go flat and the car to spin out; the FBI agents race past it and the thieves shoot at their car, riddling the windshield with bullet holes; the agents duck down to avoid being shot]
FBI Agent 'Wooly' Wolinski: Careful what you wish for!
Neville Sinclair: [regarding what he's after] It's a rocket.
Eddie Valentine: [surprised] A rocket?
Neville Sinclair: [laughing] Yeah. Like in the comic books.
Cliff Secord: [after the test flight, using a statue] Peevy, you'd pay to see a man fly, wouldn't you?
Peevy: Ha! You've gotta be outta your mind!
Cliff Secord: Look, I'm talking about making some real money here, Peevy. Not just ten bucks a show, but enough to get us back on our feet and into the nationals.
Peevy: Are your eyes painted on, Clifford? This thing's like strapping nitroglycerine to your back. Besides, the feds are mixed up in this.
Cliff Secord: I don't want to keep it, I just want to borrow it for a while.
Peevy: Clifford, when you borrow something and you don't tell nobody, they call that stealing, you know.
Cliff Secord: Just a couple of weeks. As soon as we can afford a new plane, we'll give it back, I swear.
Peevy: Clifford, did you see what this thing did back there?
Cliff Secord: You're always telling me what a genius you are, Peev! Fix it!
Peevy: We're gonna need one hell of a lawyer.
Cliff Secord: [seeing the destroyed statues' head, worriedly] I think we're gonna need a helmet.
Neville Sinclair: Valentine, we're going to do what I think is necessary.
Eddie Valentine: And that includes breaking one of my men in half, huh? The next time you go after one of my men, I'll kill ya.
Neville Sinclair: Don't threaten me, Eddie. Just do your job.
Eddie Valentine: Hey, Sinclair? If the Feds take me, I'm taking you with me. I'm gonna tell you everthing.
Neville Sinclair: Who are they going to believe? A cheap crook, or the number-three box-office star in America?
Eddie Valentine: [throwing his cigar down] Nummber-three *jerk*!
[about to leave with Jenny]
Neville Sinclair: Goodbye, Eddie. Happy Valentine's Day.
Peevy: [reading the newspaper] "Film fans were saddened by the news that actor Neville Sinclair was killed in a tragedy when flaming debris fell on his touring car." That's terrible! That was a nice car.
Zeppelin Captain: We're losing altitude! We must jettison some weight!
Nazi Agent: [to Neville] You, you... actor!
[Neville shoots the Agent, sending him dropping out the window. The Captain stares at him]
Neville Sinclair: For the Fatherland!
Eddie Valentine: [as Cliff takes off after the Nazi zeppelin] Go get 'em, kid.
Peevy: [as they bring the Gee Bee out for its maiden flight] Keep her straight, keep her level. It's your first time up, so don't do anything interesting.
Cliff Secord: Who, me?
Peevy: And remember, she stalls out at about a hundred. So keep the air speed up. Otherwise, you're gonna be drifting around all over the sky. And if the ailerons start to shimmy...
Cliff Secord: Peevy, I have flown a plane or two in my life.
Peevy: Not like this one, you haven't. This one's... This one's a handful. You sneeze in this thing and you're gonna end up upside-down in the bean field.
[walking past the tail of the Gee Bee, Cliff takes some chewed-up gum from his mouth and puts it on the rudder]
Peevy: That's fresh paint, dammit!
Cliff Secord: You want me to crash?
Peevy: Chewing gum ain't gonna keep your butt up in the air.
[Cliff gets into the cockpit of the Gee Bee]
Peevy: You treat her nice, Clifford. She's gonna take us all the way to the nationals.
Peevy: [to a pair of FBI agents] You chase a couple of two-bit crooks across our runway, crash into my pilot, and it's our fault?
FBI Agent 'Wooly' Wolinski: Look, no offense, pops, but we got more important things to do than get all sweaty about whose fault it was.
Peevy: Listen here, buddy, building that plane took three years of our lives and every damn cent we had!
FBI Agent Fitch: Oh, file a claim with Uncle Sam. Who knows? You could get lucky.
Cliff Secord: Yeah, and what, wait six months? A year? We made a living with that plane!
FBI Agent Fitch: Well, maybe it's time to get a real job.
[Cliff punches Fitch; Fitch punches back; everyone restrains the two men]
FBI Agent Fitch: You got that one free, kid! One more like that, you'll be eating soft food for a month! You hear?
FBI Agent 'Wooly' Wolinski: [grabbing Fitch] Take it easy! Relax.
FBI Agent Fitch: That flyboy hangs on my kisser and you let him waltz?
FBI Agent 'Wooly' Wolinski: Maybe you had it coming.