delga | { The Interpreter (2005). } (Reply)

The chatty part of this post was originally equal in length to the picspam itself, but I've reduced it to bullets so that y'all don't get bored before you get to the pictures. (Alternatively y'all can skip straight to them, but I'm going to be a little chatty for a little longer.) Things I feel you should know about this film:

- I love this film. Like. A LOT. I've seen it at least 10 times in the past four years
- the scenes set in the UN were filmed on location
- Catherine Keener is a bit of a sideshow but she is WONDERFUL as Dot Woods
- the chemistry between Nicole Kidman (Silvia Broome) and Sean Penn (Tobin Keller) is what drives this film
- this is not a typical thriller, mostly because the pace slacks off every now and then so that Kidman and Penn can fight it out
- Sydney Pollack referred to these sections as arias (in reference to operatic movements); I have always thought of them as pas de deux
- the film is just beautiful to look at; ironically, it reminds me of The Peacemaker
- that said, The Interpreter is all about internal spaces, so there are loads of shots of rooms and corridors. Even external shots are tightly packed
- moreover, there are mirrors everywhere; ooh, symbolic duplicity! AWESOME
- I cry every time I hear Nicole Kidman's line: that little boy was my country. Oh gosh
- the only thing I have done to alter these caps is to crop and re-size them; all the colouring is from the film's palette as is
- I know: it's fucking STUNNING in a rather understated way
- the ending is perfect, just absolutely perfect
- I started watching this again last night because I was going to write some fic. Obviously, that hasn't happened.

ON TO THE SPAM! ON TO THE SPAM! Spoilers, naturally.

vengeance is a lazy form of grief

She wouldn't tell me her husband's name. She wouldn't even write it.

The Teacher says good day to you.

[translating from Ku] Dr. Zuwanie is an educator. He is... our teacher. But his opponents engage in evermore ferocious acts. The partisans of both Kuman-Kuman and Ajene Xola have become... terrorists.

Silvia: Listen, I'm scared, and my protector is some one who doesn't believe me.
Keller: You don't look scared.

Silvia: So you're not here to offer me any protection whatsoever?
Keller: No, Ma'am.
Silvia: And we were getting along so well.

That means we have to return them in the same condition or we don't get our money back.

Silvia: When will I know the results?
Keller: Straight away. You know when you're lying don't you?

Is that you? Can you tell me what somebody like you, who uses the word "diplomacy" like she's chastising me is doing at a rebel rally?

Why would somebody take a picture and type the names of everyone in it on the back? This is a death list. The question you should be asking is 'who gave me this, and why?'

The Ku believe that if the family lets the killer drown, they'll have justice but spend the rest of their lives in mourning. But if they save him, if they admit that life isn't always just... that very act can take away their sorrow.

We don't name the dead.

Silvia: We're Kapéla. It means standing on opposite sides of the river.
Keller: You've got to give me a reason to get to the other side.

An almost-assassinated leader gets so much credibility, so he can stay in power and gets to stick around to enjoy it.

You can't do that. You cannot do that. How the hell am I supposed to protect you if I don't know where you are?

Silvia: What do you do when you can't sleep?
Keller: I stay awake.

You think that not getting caught in a lie is the same thing as telling the truth.

They're not our family, and they're not our friends. You told me that.

You lose somebody, then you lose somebody. I don't want to lose two somebodies.

My brother... my brother was right. It takes too long, Tobin. I'm going home.

This is how you put down a gun.

The gunfire around us makes it hard to hear. But the human voice is different from other sounds. It can be heard over noises that bury everything else. Even when it's not shouting. Even when it's just a whisper. Even the lowest whisper can be heard—over armies... when it's telling the truth.

That little boy was my country.

Hove Vambi... killed by land-mines. Alexander Mungoshi... Charles Kufomo... Ruth Kufomo... shot to death defending their home. Robert Chenjari... Benita Matkudzi... burned to death during a protest rally. Edgar Sakuro... Masumi Bamcha... John Enkumo... Yvon Enkumo...