Showing posts with label Murder on The Orient Express. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Murder on The Orient Express. Show all posts

Monday 10 October 2022

Bouc





Monsieur Bouc | Silver Linings

Murder on the Orient Express | Boarding The Train (Full Scene)

Hercule Poirot Meeting Bouc and getting 
his ride on The Orient Express


Poirot :
Ah, My Holiday begins here. 
I can see the soul of The City 
in these humble breads. 
The World insists on 
Destruction, yet here, 
Masterpieces are baked 
to order every day. 

Mohammed The Baker :
Monsieur Poirot! 

Poirot :
Mohammed! Mohammed, My Friend... 
You are An Artist. 

Mohammed The Baker :
Ah! My Friend! 

Bouc :
Sorry. Here. Come, come. Don't mind us, 
we're just looking for a place 
to have a private argument. 
It should take some 20 minutes or so,
at which point we will both come 
to an agreement, or at least I will. 

Poirot :
Monsieur Bouc! 

Bouc :
Poirot! In The Kitchen? Well, of course, 
this man will sniff out a perfect pastry 
faster than he catches... a jewel thief. 

Poirot :
Mon ami! Now, I am no longer A Policeman. 
I cannot bail you out when this goes badly, eh? 

Bouc :
This is My Dear, old friend, the esteemed 
Poirot, who I knew before the esteem. 
Hercule Poirot, this is... 

Poirot :
A Prostitute. 

Bouc :
She is. 

A Prostitute :
am! Bouc, you did not tell me 
you had famous friends. 

Bouc :
We're friends because 
I'm the only person 
who never asks him any questions 
about his cases, because I don't care. 
And he never judges me for 
being terrible person. 

Poirot :
Indeed you are. 

Poirot :
Madame, Bouc, please 
join me for a drink, yes? 

Bouc :
You only have me for an hour. 
I ride on the Orient Express at seven, 
Official Director business. 
Uncle pays me absurdly 
to stay onboard his gorgeous train 
and far away from him 
at the home office, consigned to 
wine and dine handsome officials for all eternity. 

Poirot :
There is an Art to Nepotism. 
And you are its Michelangelo! 

British Diplomat :
Mr. Poirot. 

Poirot :
Are you a prostitute as well? 

British Diplomat :
Certainly not. 

Bouc :
Is this man bothering you? 

Poirot :
He is about to. 
You are from 
The British consulate. 

British Diplomat :
I am, sir. 

Poirot :
It is The Kassner Case. 

British Diplomat :
Why, yes. 

Poirot :
I was correct in certain predictions? 

British Diplomat :
Quite. 

Poirot :
I do not need to read the telegram. 

Bouc :
Oh, how fun. Did someone 
Cheat, or Die? 

Poirot :
Unfortunately, both. Someone has 
interrupted my longing for rest. 

It appears that I must travel 
with you tonight, Bouc. 
Can you find me a cabin 
on the Orient Express? 

Bouc :
My Friend... I may not be good for much
but I sure as hell can get you 
a bed on My Train 
in the dead of Winter. 
Three days free of Care
Concern or Crime. 
You will love it. 

Poirot :
Mademoiselle, it has been a pleasure. 

British Diplomat :
Sir. Your Luggage has been collected 
and your expenses paid. 
You will be met at Calais 
and then escorted to Dover, 
and then by rail to London Victoria. 


I would like to formally express gratitude...

Poirot :
Please, don't speak. 
You make it worse.

Thursday 11 February 2021

Isomorphism



Before The Law, 
There Stands A Guard


BEFORE THE LAW :

Before The Law, 
There stands A Guard. 

A Man comes from The Country, 
begging admittance to The Law. 

But The Guard cannot admit him. 

May he hope to enter at a later time? 
That is possible, said The Guard. 

The Man tries to peer through The Entrance. 
He'd been taught that The Law was to be accessible 
to every Man. 

"Do not attempt to enter without My Permission", 
says The Guard. 

"I am very Powerful. 
Yet I am The Least of all The Guards. 

From Hall to Hall, 
Door after Door, 
Each Guard is more Powerful 
than The Last.”

By The Guard's Permission
The Man sits by The Side of The Door
and there he waits

For YEARS, He waits. 

Everything He has
He gives away in The Hope of bribing 
The Guard, who never fails to Say to Him : 
“I Take What You Give Me, 
only so that You Will Not Feel 
that You Left Something Un-Done." 

Keeping His Watch during the long years, 
The Man has come to know 
even The Fleas on The Guard's fur collar. 

Growing childish in old age, 
He begs the fleas to persuade The Guard 
to change His Mind and Allow Him to Enter. 

His Sight has dimmed, but in The Darkness 
He perceives a radiance streaming immortally 
from The Door of The Law. 

And now, before He dies
all He's experienced condenses into one Question, 
A Question He's never asked

He beckons The Guard. 

Says The Guard, 
"You are insatiable
What is it now?" 

Says The Man, 
"Every Man strives to attain The Law. 
How is it then that in all these years
no one else has ever come here, 
seeking admittance?" 

His Hearing has failed
so The Guard YELLS into His Ear :

"Nobody Else but You 
could EVER have 
obtained admittance. 

No-one else could 
Enter This Door!" 

"This Door," He Says,
"was intended,  
ONLY for YOU

And, Now — 
I'm going to close it." 

This Tale is Told during 
The Story called 
"The Trial". 

It's been said that 
The Logic of This Story 
is The Logic of a Dream... 
Or a Nightmare.





BOUC :
Poirot. I need your help, my friend. 
You have to find who did this. 
Please, I implore you, on behalf 
of The Orient Express. 

When The Police arrive, 
we can present them 
with the case closed. 

You are the only one who can Save Me. 

Hercule Poirot :
Your Faith touches me, mon cher. 
But I must have this rest. 

BOUC :
Well, think of it as a little 
beachside puzzle. 

That's nothing to your mind! 

You look up the antecedents 
of the passengers. 

You establish their bona fides
Then you do What You Do. 

You... You... You... 
You sit in a chair and you eat your cake... 
and you think until the solution presents itself. 

What else are you going to do 
while we sit here in the snow? 

Without constant stimulation
your little gray cells will 
starve and die. 

Hercule Poirot :
You think that is what I do? 

I sit in a chair and I have a little piece of cake, 
and then I come up with a great idea? 

BOUC :
I don't know what you do. 

Hercule Poirot :
I have my Dickens. 

BOUC :
Damn your Dickens! 
If we leave this to The Police, 
they will choose a culprit, 
Right or Wrong
and they will hang him

Most probably Mr. Marquez, 
for no other reason than 
his name is 'Marquez'. 

Or Dr. Arbuthnot for the colour of his skin. 
You are the only one who 
can bring Justice. 

Hercule Poirot :
.....let me have a map of this coach. 

BOUC :
Of course. 

Hercule Poirot :
Every passport. 

BOUC :
Anything. 

Hercule Poirot :
Interviews arranged with 
all of our passengers. 

Evidence, Order and Method, 
until one culprit emerges

I do not approve of Murder, my friend. 

Every day, we meet people The World 
could do better without 
yet We Do Not Kill Them. 

We must be better than The Beasts. 

So let us find this Killer. 


Jordan Peterson pulls Christianity out of Sam Harris' reductionist hat



"Because -- a Forgery that is materially the same as a great masterpiece, is essentially worthless."


No. It's Priceless. Because you cannot sell it. It's worth a very great deal, indeed.





Miss Debenham :
It's freezing! 
Are we stuck? 
You asked for me? 
Another interrogation? 

Hercule Poirot :
Oh, no. I enjoy your company. 
Merci, Bouc. 

Uh, please. I have a list of 10 Questions 
I am no nearer to answering, 
and the train is about to leave. 

You have a clear mind, and I thought that you might produce an insight. Please

Miss Debenham :
Hmm. 

"The Handkerchief." 

"The Pipe Cleaner."

"The Scarlet Kimono." 

"The Uniform." 

"The time on The Watch." 

"Was he murdered then?" 

"Earlier or later?" 

"By one person or more?" 

"Which of them?" 

Sorry, I can't help you. 



Hercule Poirot :
Uh... Merci. 

Miss Debenham :
Perhaps there is 
An Eleventh Question 
you don't know to ask yet 
that will give you 
The Answer to the rest.

WHY AREN'T YOU DEAD, YET? 

Hercule Poirot :
Perhaps. I could point an easy finger 
at the, uh, Countess Andrenyi. 
I discovered she was 
Sonia Armstrong's sister. 

Are you certain? 

Hercule Poirot :
Yes. I suspect she may perhaps 
be innocent. Perhaps. 

But so many people have lied to me on this train and do not seem to mind. 

You yourself did so effortlessly

Me? 

Hercule Poirot :
You told me you had 
never been to America. 
You also concealed the fact that 
at the time of The Tragedy, you 
were living in The Armstrong Household 
as Governess to Their Daughter. 
And you know this. 

I have my living to get. 
A Girl detained in connection 
to a murder case, no decent 
class family would engage me. 

Miss Debenham, you planned 
Ratchett's murder. 
And then you sent for 
The Countess to witness it. 
If she saw him dead, 
the Helena you knew might return. 

You waited for your roommate to sleep, 
but she did not. You drugged her. 
But the barbital only gave her a headache. 
She begged for an aspirin when The Train
stopped, when The Conductor 
was on The Station, when the coast w
as clear at last, when you were 
allowed to enter 
Ratchett's compartment, unseen. 
You loved Daisy Armstrong. 
You killed Cassetti. 

Miss Debenham :
Cassetti was a pig
He deserved to die. 



You read The Bible, Ringo? 

Not regularly, no. 

Well, there's this passage I got memorized. 
Ezekiel 25:17. 

"The Path of The Righteous Man 
is beset on all sides 
by the inequities of The Selfish 
and The Tyranny of Evil Men. 

Blessed is he, who in the name 
of Charity and Good Will, 
shepherds The Weak 
through The Valley of Darkness, 
for he is truly His Brother's Keeper 
and The Finder of Lost Children.

And I will strike down upon thee with great Vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. 

And you will know I am the Lord... 
when I lay my vengeance upon you." 

Now, I been sayin' that shit for years — 
and if you heard it, that meant your ass. 

I never gave much thought 
to what it meant

I just thought it was some coldblooded shit to say to a motherfucker before I popped a cap in his ass. 

But I saw some shit this morning 
made me think twice. 

See, now I'm thinkin' maybe it means... 

You're The Evil Man, and 
I'm The Righteous Man, 
and Mr. 9-millimeter here
he's The Shepherd, protecting 
my righteous ass in 
The Valley of Darkness. 

Or it could mean... 

You're The Righteous Man
and I'm The Shepherd, 
and it's The World that's 
Evil and Selfish.

Yeah, I'd like that. 
But that shit ain't The Truth

The Truth, is —
YOU’RE The Weak... 
and I'm The Tyranny, 
of Evil Men. 

But I'm tryin', Ringo. 

I'm tryin' real hard... 
To be The Shepherd. 


Go. 





It appears there are no end to the lies manufactured just for me.

-- Hercule Poirot