North of Vortex (1991) - full transcript
A gay poet heads west from New York City in his convertible. He picks up a muscular sailor who's bisexual; then Jackie, a waitress at a diner, joins them. Jackie is attracted to the poet who rebuffs her romantic gestures; rejection fuels her continued interest in him. The sailor and the poet are bonded by sex, but the sailor's frank advances to Jackie make him uninteresting to her. The sailor can get violent, the poet is passive, Jackie is glamorous and detached. The landscape changes, they stop in cities and in the desert. They reach a lake. Who will be left out of a final pairing?
(slow jazz music)
- [Voiceover] Kept
awake in the small hours
of very long nights,
no number of cigarettes
or midnight rhapsodies
from a chance encounter
in East Village Bar, badly
singing Billie Holiday,
could deliver him back to sleep.
Europe, long way away,
across ocean of indifference.
His indifference.
No going back, not yet.
(slow jazz music)
(tires screeching)
(slow jazz music)
(traffic whooshing)
(slow jazz music)
- [Voiceover] Next presentation
will be The Sleazy Uncle,
a comic gem from Italy
by Franco Brusati,
director of Bread and Chocolate.
The Sleazy Uncle stars
Giancarlo Giannini
as the stuffed shirted Riccardo.
His well-ordered bourgeois
lifestyle is thrown into chaos
by the arrival of his
amoral Uncle Luca.
- [Voiceover]
Anywhere in the world.
- [Voiceover] He read
his poems about death
and finding peace.
- [Voiceover] I went
to photograph him
and I got all these
sort of very normal,
poet photographs of
him lying on the ground
under trees and
sitting in his library
and you know I come
out of the drive way
and I look up at the
window of his bedroom,
he was looking out
the window, staring
and kind of a deep stare
and I drove away and I said.
- [Voiceover] Our message today.
- [Voiceover] I gotta get
back, I got to go back.
You know I don't have
it, I don't have it.
- [Voiceover]
Electromagnetic power.
(radio static)
(slow jazz music)
(radio static)
- [Voiceover] The
poet's life was a trail
of disconnected moments.
And each moment was composed
of some small gesture,
captured as if in mid-flight.
He would try to discern
some meaning in them.
But he would be overtaken by
a violent, eddying feeling.
Exhilarating as
it was pointless.
(distant train horn)
(train rumbling)
- [Voiceover] He was sprucing,
dangling at the cavaliers,
now called poise or leave.
Are they sons of Mars or Venus?
Pastures, toasts,
demeanor, salute,
drills, commands.
Martial rule defeat.
His dances of the eyes
of the hands, the
neck, the voice,
the ramrod backbone, abdomen,
Succulent, oh so good.
(tires screeching)
The shield of the killers,
and witches engraved,
the whole world.
(soft instrumental music)
- [Voiceover] For the poet,
the sailor represented
everything a fag could want.
Good solid hands,
presentable face,
and a restless cock,
which the poet could
almost hear slapping
up against his stomach.
His passion for women was great,
but he would make due
if things were tight.
The poet liked that
pragmatic approach.
It was what made America great.
For the sailor, the
poet was strange.
He had no visible
means of support
or some from anywhere the
sailor would remotely call home.
He never shaved
and when asked where he was
heading he would simply reply,
"Out west."
(soft jazz music)
(voices chattering)
(soft band music)
* Hello baby
* Yes it's really me
* After all the wrong I've done
* I guess you're
surprised to see me
* Here at your door
* Like a sparrow
with a broken wing
* Who's come back to beg you
* Oh
* Reconsider me
* Oh please
* Reconsider me
* I can't make it
* Without your love
* Can you see
- War is good business.
Invest your son.
- I need a blow job.
Who do I call?
(heavy breathing)
* Oh please
* Reconsider me
* I can't make it,
I can't make it
* Without you girl
* Can't you see
- [Voiceover] Jackie was
intrigued by the poet
and the magical
and turbulent world
that his arrival suggested.
The stranger had
parachuted into her life
and she had need of a savior
even if it was bit queer.
The sailor's presence
was an afterthought.
* Oh baby, baby
* Oh baby
* Reconsider me
(soft jazz music)
- [Voiceover] I have a friend
who is a pathological liar.
I found out later
they smoked pot and took LSD.
Do you think people on LSD
might travel into far beyond?
- [Voiceover] Marty
are you a pot smoker?
- [Voiceover] Are you kidding?
- [Voiceover] Just
chill, hey just asking.
I'm the talker right?
(birds chirping)
- [Voiceover] I wanted to take
a trip for over five years
and every time I am
about depart on the trip,
about a couple weeks before I
always end up canceling out.
And a couple of my
friends have gotten
rather annoyed with me.
(radio chatter)
- [Voiceover] I think the lion
does a trick into,
it's very great.
You can tell somebody
they're in Idaho
and they're in Los Angeles ,
and if you stop long enough
and probably convinced him,
he might think he's
in Idaho who knows?
- [Voiceover] My girlfriend's
grandmother died.
- [Voiceover] Hmm, okay
so that made you feel
that you were justified
in not having left.
- [Voiceover] Exactly.
(soft jazz music)
(radio chatter)
(voices chattering)
- Bop it and shoot for this one.
- [Voiceover] The
sailor liked Jackie.
She was glamorous.
Her attraction to the
poet was a harmless
and meaningless infatuation.
He liked that Jackie
was difficult,
he had nothing but
contempt for whores.
The sailor reminded Jackie of
all the men in her home town.
He was too young,
not too bright.
She couldn't imagine beneath
that ordered exterior
lay a more complex
set of desires.
The poet was slow in unraveling
Jackie's amorous interest.
For him, that was another world
which he had long gone rejected
in the name of liberation.
(loud slap)
(soft instrumental music)
(soft jazz music)
- Have you got a light?
(slow jazz music)
- [Voiceover] Page Mr. Brown.
Page Mr. Big Brown.
- [Voiceover] The sailor
and the poet were linked
through sex.
The poet and Jackie were
made one through ritual.
The sailor now felt
marginal to their concerns
and he could reassert himself
in the only way he knew,
through violence.
- Give me some money.
I said give me some money.
Do it, do it.
(brooding instrumental music)
- Burn a hole in it.
Fuck you faggot.
Burn a hole in it.
Do it, do it.
(loud punches)
(groaning)
- [Voiceover] The poet had
felt the violence of men
many times.
It was the glue which
cemented his existence.
But far from being a
threat to other men,
he was in fact tolerated
because of their need
to be worshiped.
In that perverse
ritual of adoration,
the poet had elected
to play the role
of sacrificial offering.
With tears and blood
he bathed their bodies
and made them clean.
- [Voiceover] Fly through
the air under three minutes
or even teaming
up and beating up,
that's paramount, but
you know what I'm saying.
- [Voiceover] Yeah but
I just wonder how they,
how they form those
races and pack up,
you know the cars
when they race around
and their chasing each
other, then they blow up.
- [Voiceover] Those are
really, those are done
by stunt performers.
- [Voiceover] Oh
well that's scary.
- [Voiceover] Well yeah
and stunt performers
get paid a lot
and every once in a
while a stunt performer
is really injured or
killed while working.
Remember.
(slow jazz music)
- [Voiceover] Toto,
I have a feeling we're
not in Kansas anymore.
(radio static)
- [Voiceover] The sailor's
moment of triumph,
his conquest of Jackie
was a terrible revelation,
his desire had been
grounded in nothing.
But the poet chose to except
Jackie's love as real.
He could not comprehend that
by giving himself to her,
he was destroying that which
made him desirable in her eyes.
His unavailability.
(soft jazz music)
Kissing the poet,
the sailor had sensed
the dizzying familiarity
he felt when looking
into a mirror.
Self-love propelled him
to receive the poet.
In whom he glimpsed
for the first time,
the reflection of his
own feminine self.
Just as for the poet,
the sailor was the dream of
the dominant male made flesh.
Such a union is at
best improbable,
and fragile.
(brooding instrumental music)
(soft jazz music)
- [Voiceover] Get out of this
relationship immediately,
and yet here I am.
I mean if I was with him,
if I was in the audience,
look I would say run away.
You need to get out of that.
This is...
- [Voiceover] The
escapade has nothing to do
with your gender confusions.
Some counseling will help you.
- [Voiceover] Jackie took
the car and headed south
for Mexico,
at least there men were men
and you could spot
a fag a mile away.
She felt relieved and free.
She was lying to herself.
(soft jazz music)
- [Voiceover] Kept
awake in the small hours
of very long nights,
no number of cigarettes
or midnight rhapsodies
from a chance encounter
in East Village Bar, badly
singing Billie Holiday,
could deliver him back to sleep.
Europe, long way away,
across ocean of indifference.
His indifference.
No going back, not yet.
(slow jazz music)
(tires screeching)
(slow jazz music)
(traffic whooshing)
(slow jazz music)
- [Voiceover] Next presentation
will be The Sleazy Uncle,
a comic gem from Italy
by Franco Brusati,
director of Bread and Chocolate.
The Sleazy Uncle stars
Giancarlo Giannini
as the stuffed shirted Riccardo.
His well-ordered bourgeois
lifestyle is thrown into chaos
by the arrival of his
amoral Uncle Luca.
- [Voiceover]
Anywhere in the world.
- [Voiceover] He read
his poems about death
and finding peace.
- [Voiceover] I went
to photograph him
and I got all these
sort of very normal,
poet photographs of
him lying on the ground
under trees and
sitting in his library
and you know I come
out of the drive way
and I look up at the
window of his bedroom,
he was looking out
the window, staring
and kind of a deep stare
and I drove away and I said.
- [Voiceover] Our message today.
- [Voiceover] I gotta get
back, I got to go back.
You know I don't have
it, I don't have it.
- [Voiceover]
Electromagnetic power.
(radio static)
(slow jazz music)
(radio static)
- [Voiceover] The
poet's life was a trail
of disconnected moments.
And each moment was composed
of some small gesture,
captured as if in mid-flight.
He would try to discern
some meaning in them.
But he would be overtaken by
a violent, eddying feeling.
Exhilarating as
it was pointless.
(distant train horn)
(train rumbling)
- [Voiceover] He was sprucing,
dangling at the cavaliers,
now called poise or leave.
Are they sons of Mars or Venus?
Pastures, toasts,
demeanor, salute,
drills, commands.
Martial rule defeat.
His dances of the eyes
of the hands, the
neck, the voice,
the ramrod backbone, abdomen,
Succulent, oh so good.
(tires screeching)
The shield of the killers,
and witches engraved,
the whole world.
(soft instrumental music)
- [Voiceover] For the poet,
the sailor represented
everything a fag could want.
Good solid hands,
presentable face,
and a restless cock,
which the poet could
almost hear slapping
up against his stomach.
His passion for women was great,
but he would make due
if things were tight.
The poet liked that
pragmatic approach.
It was what made America great.
For the sailor, the
poet was strange.
He had no visible
means of support
or some from anywhere the
sailor would remotely call home.
He never shaved
and when asked where he was
heading he would simply reply,
"Out west."
(soft jazz music)
(voices chattering)
(soft band music)
* Hello baby
* Yes it's really me
* After all the wrong I've done
* I guess you're
surprised to see me
* Here at your door
* Like a sparrow
with a broken wing
* Who's come back to beg you
* Oh
* Reconsider me
* Oh please
* Reconsider me
* I can't make it
* Without your love
* Can you see
- War is good business.
Invest your son.
- I need a blow job.
Who do I call?
(heavy breathing)
* Oh please
* Reconsider me
* I can't make it,
I can't make it
* Without you girl
* Can't you see
- [Voiceover] Jackie was
intrigued by the poet
and the magical
and turbulent world
that his arrival suggested.
The stranger had
parachuted into her life
and she had need of a savior
even if it was bit queer.
The sailor's presence
was an afterthought.
* Oh baby, baby
* Oh baby
* Reconsider me
(soft jazz music)
- [Voiceover] I have a friend
who is a pathological liar.
I found out later
they smoked pot and took LSD.
Do you think people on LSD
might travel into far beyond?
- [Voiceover] Marty
are you a pot smoker?
- [Voiceover] Are you kidding?
- [Voiceover] Just
chill, hey just asking.
I'm the talker right?
(birds chirping)
- [Voiceover] I wanted to take
a trip for over five years
and every time I am
about depart on the trip,
about a couple weeks before I
always end up canceling out.
And a couple of my
friends have gotten
rather annoyed with me.
(radio chatter)
- [Voiceover] I think the lion
does a trick into,
it's very great.
You can tell somebody
they're in Idaho
and they're in Los Angeles ,
and if you stop long enough
and probably convinced him,
he might think he's
in Idaho who knows?
- [Voiceover] My girlfriend's
grandmother died.
- [Voiceover] Hmm, okay
so that made you feel
that you were justified
in not having left.
- [Voiceover] Exactly.
(soft jazz music)
(radio chatter)
(voices chattering)
- Bop it and shoot for this one.
- [Voiceover] The
sailor liked Jackie.
She was glamorous.
Her attraction to the
poet was a harmless
and meaningless infatuation.
He liked that Jackie
was difficult,
he had nothing but
contempt for whores.
The sailor reminded Jackie of
all the men in her home town.
He was too young,
not too bright.
She couldn't imagine beneath
that ordered exterior
lay a more complex
set of desires.
The poet was slow in unraveling
Jackie's amorous interest.
For him, that was another world
which he had long gone rejected
in the name of liberation.
(loud slap)
(soft instrumental music)
(soft jazz music)
- Have you got a light?
(slow jazz music)
- [Voiceover] Page Mr. Brown.
Page Mr. Big Brown.
- [Voiceover] The sailor
and the poet were linked
through sex.
The poet and Jackie were
made one through ritual.
The sailor now felt
marginal to their concerns
and he could reassert himself
in the only way he knew,
through violence.
- Give me some money.
I said give me some money.
Do it, do it.
(brooding instrumental music)
- Burn a hole in it.
Fuck you faggot.
Burn a hole in it.
Do it, do it.
(loud punches)
(groaning)
- [Voiceover] The poet had
felt the violence of men
many times.
It was the glue which
cemented his existence.
But far from being a
threat to other men,
he was in fact tolerated
because of their need
to be worshiped.
In that perverse
ritual of adoration,
the poet had elected
to play the role
of sacrificial offering.
With tears and blood
he bathed their bodies
and made them clean.
- [Voiceover] Fly through
the air under three minutes
or even teaming
up and beating up,
that's paramount, but
you know what I'm saying.
- [Voiceover] Yeah but
I just wonder how they,
how they form those
races and pack up,
you know the cars
when they race around
and their chasing each
other, then they blow up.
- [Voiceover] Those are
really, those are done
by stunt performers.
- [Voiceover] Oh
well that's scary.
- [Voiceover] Well yeah
and stunt performers
get paid a lot
and every once in a
while a stunt performer
is really injured or
killed while working.
Remember.
(slow jazz music)
- [Voiceover] Toto,
I have a feeling we're
not in Kansas anymore.
(radio static)
- [Voiceover] The sailor's
moment of triumph,
his conquest of Jackie
was a terrible revelation,
his desire had been
grounded in nothing.
But the poet chose to except
Jackie's love as real.
He could not comprehend that
by giving himself to her,
he was destroying that which
made him desirable in her eyes.
His unavailability.
(soft jazz music)
Kissing the poet,
the sailor had sensed
the dizzying familiarity
he felt when looking
into a mirror.
Self-love propelled him
to receive the poet.
In whom he glimpsed
for the first time,
the reflection of his
own feminine self.
Just as for the poet,
the sailor was the dream of
the dominant male made flesh.
Such a union is at
best improbable,
and fragile.
(brooding instrumental music)
(soft jazz music)
- [Voiceover] Get out of this
relationship immediately,
and yet here I am.
I mean if I was with him,
if I was in the audience,
look I would say run away.
You need to get out of that.
This is...
- [Voiceover] The
escapade has nothing to do
with your gender confusions.
Some counseling will help you.
- [Voiceover] Jackie took
the car and headed south
for Mexico,
at least there men were men
and you could spot
a fag a mile away.
She felt relieved and free.
She was lying to herself.
(soft jazz music)