The Limits of Control (2009)
Actors
Plot
A solitary man who does not speak Spanish is an underground courier. Two men who are both thuggish and philosophical send him to Madrid with cryptic instructions. Over the course of a few days, he receives his instructions from a series of distinctive individuals who provide words of philosophy or of warning and also give him a matchbox with a tiny piece of paper, which he reads then eats, accompanied by espresso served in two cups. He is quiet, self-contained, focused on his work. He has rules. He encounters and at times transmits a violin, diamonds, a guitar, and a map. Is he a smuggler? Merely an independent conduit? Or, something else?
Keywords: african, airplane, airport, arrest, art-gallery, art-museum, assassin, bare-breasts, bathroom-stall, bed
Genres
Taglines:
For every way in, there is another way out.
Quotes:
Blonde: Are you interested in films, by any chance? I like really old films. You can really see what the world looked like, thirty, fifty, a hundred years ago. You know the clothes, the telephones, the trains, the way people smoked cigarettes, the little details of life. The best films are like dreams you're never sure you've really had. I have this image in my head of a room full of sand. And a bird flies towards me, and dips its wing into the sand. And I honestly have no idea whether this image came from a dream, or a film. Sometimes I like it in films when people just sit there, not saying anything.
Guitar: La vida non vale nada.
Molecules: Are you interested in science by any chance? I'm interested in molecules. The Sufis say each one of us is a planet spinning in ecstasy. But I say each one of us is a set of shifting molecules. Spinning in ecstasy. In the near future, worn out things will be made new again by reconfiguring their molecules. A pair of shoes. A tire. Molecular detection will also allow the determination of an object's physical history. This match box for example. Its collection of molecules could indicate everywhere it's ever been. They could do it with your clothes. Or even with your skin, for that matter. Wait three days until you see the bread. The guitar will find you. Among us, there are those who are not among us.::Lone Man: I'm among no one.
American: How the fuck did you get in here?::Lone Man: I used my imagination.
American: Is this your twisted idea of revenge for something?::Lone Man: No. Revenge is useless.
Mexican: The old men in my village used to say, "Everything changes by the colour of the glass you see it through." Nothing is true. Everything is imagined. Do you know these reflections? For me sometimes the reflection is far more present than the thing being reflected.
[last lines]::American: What is your fucking agenda here?::[pause]::American: You people don't understand a fucking thing about how the world really works.::Lone Man: I understand. But I understand subjectively.::American: That's fucking nonsense. Your sick minds have been polluted with crap. Your music, movies, science. Fucking bohemians on hallucinogenic drugs. All that shit has poisoned you. And it has nothing to do with the real world. And I suppose you believe that by eliminating me, you will eliminate control over some fucking artificial reality.::Lone Man: Reality is arbitrary.::American: Fuck you.
[first lines]::Creole: [character speaks in Spanish/French creole, English subtitles] You don't speak Spanish, right?::French: [character translates for Creole] You don't speak Spanish, right?::Creole: You are ready? Everything's cool?::French: You are ready? Everything's cool?::Lone Man: Yes!::Creole: Good.::French: Good.
Violin: Are you interested in music, by any chance? I believe that musical instruments, especially those made out of wood - cellos, violins, guitars, I believe that they resonate, musically, even when they're not being played. They have a memory. Every note that's ever been played on them is still inside of them, resonating in the molecules of the wood. I guess, like everything, it's just a matter of perception, no?
Mexican: The old men in my village used to say, everything changes by the colour of the glass you see it through. Nothing is true. Every thing's imagined. Do you notice reflections? For me, sometimes the reflection is far more present than the thing being reflected. Are you interested in hallucinations, by any chance? Have you ever tried peyote? Do you know who the Huicholes are? They wear mirrors around their necks. And they play violins. Handmade violins. With only one string.
Dust (2008)
Actors
Plot
Sidney is in the moving business. He delivers identical briefcases from point A to point B. He never knows what he is delivering or who he works for. In fact, Sidney can't remember anything about his past. The puzzle begins to unravel one day when Sidney meets the hilarious and charismatic Toyman. The Toyman makes millions of dollars selling toys to kids he hates. A delivery gone bad leads Sidney deep into Mexico where he meets up with ruthless treasure hunters. Only time will tell whether Sidney will remember his past or die trying.
Genres