Turner, Alex Filmography

• The Cleanup (2011)
• The Cleanup (2011)
• The Cleanup (2011)
• The Screenwriter Diaries (2009)
• Red Sands (2009)
• Red Sands (2009)
• Making 'Dead Birds' (2005)
• Dead Birds (2004)
• Disposal (2003)
• Disposal (2003)
• Disposal (2003)
• Chuck (2000)
• Chuck (2000)
• Chuck (2000)
• Warlock: The Armageddon (1993)
• World Song (1992)

• Evidently... John Cooper Clarke (2012)
• Le Donk & Scor-zay-zee (2009)
• Arctic Monkeys at the Apollo (2008)
• Scummy Man (2006)

• The 48 Hour Film Showdown (2009)
• The 48 Hour Film Showdown (2009)

• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• Stuck On The Puzzle - Alex Turner
• Piledriver Waltz - Alex Turner
• It's Hard To Get Around The Wind - Alex Turner
• I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor - Alex Turner
• A Choice Of Three - Alex Turner

I'm not the kind of fool
who's gonna sit and sing to you,
about stars, girl.
But last night I looked up into
the dark half of the blue,
and they'd gone backwards.
Something in your magnetism
must have pissed them off,
forcing them to get an early night.
I have been searching from
the bottom to the top,
for such a sight
as the one I caught when I saw your
fingers dimming the lights
like you’re used to being told that you're trouble
and I spent all night
stuck on the puzzle
Nobody I asked
knew how he came to be the one
to whom you surrendered
Any man who wasn't led away
into the other room
stood pretending
But something in your magnetism
hadn’t just made him drop
whoever's hand it was that he was holding.
I have been searching
from the bottom to the top,
for such a sight
as the one I caught when I saw your
fingers dimming the lights,
like you’re used to being told that you're trouble,
and I spent all night,
stuck on the puzzle.
I tried to swim to the side,
but my feet got caught in the middle,
and I thought I'd seen the light,
but oh, no
I was just stuck on the puzzle.

I etched a face of a stopwatch
On the back of a raindrop
And did a swap for the sand in an hourglass
I heard an unhappy ending
It sort of sounds like you leaving
I heard the piledriver waltz
It woke me up this morning
You look like you've been for breakfast
At the heartbreak hotel
And sat in the back booth
By the pamphlets and the literature
On how to lose
Your waitress was miserable
And so was your food
If you're gonna try and walk on water
Make sure you wear your comfortable shoes
Mystery's flashing amber
Go green when you answer
But the red on the rest of the questionnaire
Never changes
I heard the news that you're planning
To shoot me out of a cannon
I heard the piledriver waltz
It woke me up this morning
You look like you've been for breakfast
At the heartbreak hotel
And sat in the back booth
By the pamphlets and the literature
On how to lose
Your waitress was miserable
And so was your food
If you're gonna try and walk on water
Make sure you wear your comfortable shoes

It's like you're trying to get to heaven in a hurry,
And the queue was shorter than you thought it would be,
And the doorman says,
You need to get a wristband.
You got a lift between the pitfalls,
But you're looking like your low on energy,
Did you get out and walk,
to ensure you'd miss the quicksand?
Looking for a new place to begin,
Feeling like it's hard to understand,
But as long as you still keep peppering the pill,
You'll find a way to spit it out again.
And even when you know the way it's gonna blow,
It's hard to get around the wind.
Stretching out the neck on your evening,
Trying to even out some deficits,
But it's sabertooth multi-ball confusion.
And you can shriek until you're hollow,
Or whisper it the other way,
Trying to save the youth without putting your shoes on.
Looking for a new place to begin,
Feeling like it's hard to understand,
But as long as you still keep peppering the pill,
You'll find a way to spit it out again.
And even when you know the way it's gonna blow,
It's hard to get around the wind.
I can hear you through my window,
But I'm never quite sure who is who,
But they want the world on a dessert spoon.
It always sounds like they're fighting,
Or if that's what they are about to do,

Stop making the eyes at me, I'll stop making the eyes at you
And what it is that surprises me is that I don't really want you to
And your shoulders are frozen (cold as the night)
Oh, but you're an explosion (you're dynamite)
Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand
And lighting the fuse might result in a bang, b-b-bang, go!
I bet that you look good on the dancefloor
I don't know if you're looking for romance or
I don't know what you're looking for
I said, I bet that you look good on the dancefloor
Dancing to electro-pop like a robot from 1984
From 1984!
I wish you'd stop ignoring me, because it's sending me to despair
Without a sound, yeah, you're calling me, and I don't think it's very fair
That your shoulders are frozen (cold as the night)
Oh, but you're an explosion (you're dynamite)
Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand
Lighting the fuse might result in a bang, b-b-bang, go!
I bet that you look good on the dancefloor
I don't know if you're looking for romance or
I don't know what you're looking for
I said, I bet that you look good on the dancefloor
Dancing to electro-pop like a robot from 1984
From 1984!
Oh, there ain't no love, no Montagues or Capulets
Are just banging tunes and DJ sets and...
Dirty dancefloors, and dreams of naughtiness!
Well, I bet that you look good on the dancefloor
I don't know if you're looking for romance or
I don't know what you're looking for
I said, I bet that you look good on the dancefloor
Dancing to electro-pop like a robot from 1984

In the tunnel I noticed I had a choice of three. While I thought it very kind of them to offer me this, I do wonder if they realized what a dilemma they were sending to face me.
The trouble was, if I looked at your reflection in the left window I missed the actual image of you and your reflection in the right. And if I looked in the right I had the same problem but the other way around.
At first I thought I should probably settle on one of the mirrors as they were soon to disappear, but that idea quickly wilted, and my attention was drawn back to the center, occasionally checking on either side.
I must say I did question the authenticity of your nap a few minutes before. As the train left Loughborough I suspected it could've been a device to avoid conversation. I'd barely considered this for a moment, however, when a heavy breath and a gulping sound that I decided would be too embarrassing to fake led me to conclude that your nap wasn't fraudulent.
I found it difficult to concentrate on anything else as you slumped beneath your coat. Delighted that we'd waited until this hour to travel so the evening sun got its opportunity to skip across those sleeping cheeks, but unnerved by the prospect of being removed from the opposing chair to yours. I knew it was reserved but hoped that whoever had reserved it had fallen over.
It looked as if today I'd be safe. The train wasn't too busy but I did take a moment to recall the time when I was less fortunate.
I remmebered it with a chilling vivivity we were on the way to Brighton.
I knew it was going to be his seat as soon as I saw him on the platform, unzipping, checking, zipping, and rechecking things. Something about his face suggested that he had for years had a mustache and had not long since removed it. He wasn't going to think twice about disposing of me, especially considering then he'd get the chance to sit with you.
Though his hiking boot-march through the carriage was rather revolting, it wasn't this that made my hands tense up into sour claws of nausea. It was the way he said it.
"You're in my seat."
No "excuse me," no polite uncertainty, just the rigid, hideous fact. The thud with which it landed expelled all my preparation. Before I remembered my plans to pretend to be asleep, deaf, French, or only sat there because someone else was in my seat, I was walking to find another vacancy.
I ended up dwelling unhappily beside a girl with a boys bum. I knew that because she walked too far past when she returned to one of what I thought to be two empty seats when I sat myself there. I fidgeted until our reunion on the platform, where you brutally informed me "That man was really rather pleasant, actually."
Today I thought I'd better make sure that couldn't happen again and I pulled the ticket from the top of my seat. It took a few attempts and the facade of hanging a jacket to finally complete. I was terribly cautious. There's a threat of punishment for such deeds by fine as far as I understand, but those shackles were at the back of my mind as I crushed the reservation in my hidden fist. Folding and squeezing as if it were that beast on the way to the seaside.
Fortunately, there was no retribution. If anything the train got quieter as the journey continued.
And so in the tunnel, unable to decide, my head flicked through this trilogy of angles, angel after angle, until we were out the other side.
My frantic twitching no doubt caused the man at the adjacent table to narrow his eyes at the very least, I imagine.
I don't know for sure.