The Evidence (2012)

Actors

• Ed Moy (actor)
• Sonny Aguirre Jr. (writer)
• Sonny Aguirre Jr. (producer)
• Reid Martin Basso (actor)
• Chang-min River Hyun (writer)
• Chang-min River Hyun (director)
• Chang-min River Hyun (editor)
• Jimmy T. Cappels (actor)
• Oth Khotsimeuang (actor)
• Janina Maniaol (writer)
• Kaitlyn Yoon (writer)
• Koeun Joo (composer)
• Hong Min Kim (editor)
• Daniel Valent (actor)
• Hana Robleh (actress)

Genres

• Drama
• Short
• Thriller

Lord (2011)

Actors

• Eric W. Sizemore (actor)
• A. Lawrence Dreyfuss (writer)
• A. Lawrence Dreyfuss (director)
• Rachel Lynn Jackson (actress)
• Patrick McCarty (actor)
• Jake Sanders (actor)

Genres

• Drama
• Short

Courting with Justice (2009)

Actors

• Roy Billing (actor)
• Tim Count (composer)
• Keith Van Geyzel (composer)
• Debbie Carmody (writer)
• Debbie Carmody (director)
• Teresa Ashton Graham (editor)
• Natalie Bell (producer)

Genres

• Documentary
• Short

Taglines:

Courting with Justice poses the question - what if the Australian legal system was not

Traces (2006)

Actors

• Thomas VanOosting (composer)
• Peter VanOosting (director)
• Peter VanOosting (producer)
• Peter VanOosting (writer)
• Peter VanOosting (editor)
• Theshia Naidoo (actress)
• Ruthesh Naidoo (actor)
• Doreen Lee (composer)

Genres

• Crime
• Short

La meglio gioventù (2003)

Actors

• Adriana Asti (actress)
• Sandro Petraglia (writer)
• Stefano Rulli (writer)
• Roberto Missiroli (editor)
• Paolo De Vita (actor)
• Stefano Abbati (actor)
• Andrea Tidona (actor)
• Bruno Di Bartolomei (miscellaneous crew)
• Alessio Boni (actor)
• Maya Sansa (actress)
• Riccardo Scamarcio (actor)
• Lidia Vitale (actress)
• Fabrizio Gifuni (actor)
• Donatella Botti (producer)
• Angelo Barbagallo (producer)

Genres

• Drama
• Romance

Taglines:

The possibilities were endless...

Quotes:

Sara Carati, adult: What should I do?::Nicola Carati: I don't know, it depends on how strong you feel... Are you happy now?::Sara Carati, adult: Of course I am!::Nicola Carati: Then, it's time to be generous

Sicilian Commissario: What were you looking for, joining the Police?::Matteo Carati: I wanted some rules.::Sicilian Commissario: And what do you do, with these rules?::Matteo Carati: I apply them

12 Angry Men (1997)

Actors

• Jack Lemmon (actor)
• Edward James Olmos (actor)
• Ossie Davis (actor)
• Armin Mueller-Stahl (actor)
• George C. Scott (actor)
• Tony Danza (actor)
• William Friedkin (director)
• James Gandolfini (actor)
• Hume Cronyn (actor)
• Dorian Harewood (actor)
• Douglas Spain (actor)
• Mykelti Williamson (actor)
• Mary McDonnell (actress)
• Courtney B. Vance (actor)
• Reginald Rose (writer)

Genres

• Crime
• Drama

Quotes:

Juror #3: Reasonable doubt! That's nothing but words.

Juror #3: It's one of those open and shut things. They proved it ten different ways.

Juror #8: Suppose we're wrong.

Juror #10: I've lived among them all my life. They're born liars.

Juror #10: Don't give me those facts. I'm sick and tired of facts.

Juror #10: The kid's a punk, he don't even speak good English!::Juror #11: He doesn't even speak good English

Juror #5: I used to play in a backyard that was filled with garbage. Maybe it still smells on me.

Juror #8: Ever since we've walked into this room, you've acted like a self-appointed public avenger!::Juror #3: Shut up...::Juror #8: You want the boy to die for your own personal reasons, not because of the facts!::[Juror #3 tries to get his hands on Juror #8, but some other jurors hold him back]::Juror #8: You're a sadist!::Juror #3: I'll kill ya!::Juror #8: You don't really mean you'll kill me, do you?

Juror #4: Gentlemen, let me remind you this case is based on a reasonable and logical progression of facts. Please, let's keep it.::Juror #11: Facts may be coated by the personalities of the people who present them. Let's not forget that.

Fiddlesticks (1993)

Actors

• Timothy A. Bennett (director)
• Timothy A. Bennett (producer)
• Timothy A. Bennett (writer)
• Timothy A. Bennett (editor)
• Timothy A. Bennett (actor)
• Graham Elwood (actor)
• Graham Elwood (writer)
• Graham Elwood (producer)
• Paul Goebel (producer)
• Jim Bruce (actor)
• Paul Goebel (actor)
• Jim Bruce (producer)
• Jim Bruce (writer)
• Paul Goebel (writer)
• Michael Hartigan (writer)

Genres

• Comedy
• Short

12 Angry Men (1957)

Actors

• Henry Fonda (actor)
• Henry Fonda (producer)
• Sidney Lumet (director)
• Martin Balsam (actor)
• Jack Warden (actor)
• Faith Hubley (miscellaneous crew)
• E.G. Marshall (actor)
• Lee J. Cobb (actor)
• Jack Klugman (actor)
• John Fiedler (actor)
• Robert Webber (actor)
• Billy Nelson (actor)
• Ed Begley (actor)
• Edward Binns (actor)
• George Voskovec (actor)

Genres

• Drama

Taglines:

Life Is In Their Hands -- Death Is On Their Minds!
...it explodes like twelve sticks of dynamite!
they have twelve scraps of paper... twelve chances to kill!

Quotes:

Juror #6: Well, I'm not used to supposin'. I'm just a workin' man. My boss does all the supposin' - but I'll try one. Supposin' you talk us all out of this and, uh, the kid really did knife his father?

Juror #10: [when Juror #8 calls the boy "bright"] Bright? He's a common ignorant slob. He don't even speak good English.::Juror #11: [looking up] *Doesn't* even speak good English.

Juror #10: I don't understand you people! I mean all these picky little points you keep bringing up. They don't mean nothing. You saw this kid just like I did. You're not gonna tell me you believe that phony story about losing the knife, and that business about being at the movies. Look, you know how these people lie! It's born in them! I mean what the heck? I don't have to tell you. They don't know what the truth is! And lemme tell you, they don't need any real big reason to kill someone, either! No sir!::[Five gets up from his seat]::Juror #10: They get drunk... oh, they're real big drinkers, all of 'em - you know that - and bang: someone's lyin' in the gutter. Oh, nobody's blaming them for it. That's the way they are! By nature! You know what I mean? VIOLENT!::Juror #10: [Nine rises and crosses to the window] Where're you going?::Juror #10: Human life don't mean as much to them as it does to us!::[Eleven gets up and walks to the other window]::Juror #10: Look, they're lushing it up and fighting all the time and if somebody gets killed, so somebody gets killed! They don't care! Oh, sure, there are some good things about 'em, too. Look, I'm the first one to say that.::[Eight gets up and walks to the nearest wall]::Juror #10: I've known a couple who were OK, but that's the exception, y'know what I mean?::[Two and Six get up from the table. Everyone's back is to Ten]::Juror #10: Most of 'em, it's like they have no feelings! They can do anything! What's goin' on here? I'm trying to tell you... you're makin' a big mistake, you people! This kid is a liar! I know it. I know all about them! Listen to me! They're no good! There's not a one of 'em who is any good! I mean, what's happening in here? I'm speaking my piece, and you...::[the Foreman gets up and walks away. So does Twelve]::Juror #10: Listen to me. We're... This kid on trial here... his type, well, don't you know about them? There's a, there's a danger here. These people are dangerous. They're wild. Listen to me. Listen.::Juror #4: I have. Now sit down and don't open your mouth again.

Juror #8: It's always difficult to keep personal prejudice out of a thing like this. And wherever you run into it, prejudice always obscures the truth. I don't really know what the truth is. I don't suppose anybody will ever really know. Nine of us now seem to feel that the defendant is innocent, but we're just gambling on probabilities - we may be wrong. We may be trying to let a guilty man go free, I don't know. Nobody really can. But we have a reasonable doubt, and that's something that's very valuable in our system. No jury can declare a man guilty unless it's SURE. We nine can't understand how you three are still so sure. Maybe you can tell us.

[last lines]::Juror #9: Hey... what's your name?::Juror #8: Davis.::Juror #9: My name's McCardle.::[pause]::Juror #9: Well, so long.::Juror #8: So long.

Juror #8: [after conducting an experiment to see if the old man could have reached his door in 15 seconds] Here's what I think happened: the old man heard the fight between the boy and his father a few hours earlier. Then, when he's lying in his bed, he heard a body hit the floor in the boy's apartment, heard the woman scream from across the street, got to his front door as fast as he could, heard somebody racing down the stairs and *assumed* it was the boy.::Juror #6: I think that's possible!::Juror #3: *Assumed?* [Everyone looks at #3 as he chuckles] Brother, I've seen all kinds of dishonesty in my day, but this little display takes the cake. Y'all come in here with your hearts bleedin' all over the floor about slum kids and injustice, you listen to some fairy tales... Suddenly, you start gettin' through to some of these old ladies. Well, you're not getting through to me, I've had enough. WHAT'S THE *MATTER* WITH YOU GUYS? You all *know* he's guilty! He's *got* to burn! You're letting him slip through our fingers!::Juror #8: "Slip through our fingers"? Are you his executioner?::Juror #3: I'm one of 'em!::Juror #8: Perhaps you'd like to pull the switch?::Juror #3: For this kid? You bet I would!::Juror #8: I feel sorry for you... what it must feel like to want to pull the switch.::[baiting him]::Juror #8: Ever since you walked into this room, you've been acting like a self-appointed public avenger! You want to see this boy die because you personally want it, not because of the facts! You're a sadist!::[Three lunges wildly at Eight, who holds his ground. Several jurors hold Three back]::Juror #3: I'll kill him! I'LL KILL HIM!::Juror #8: You don't *really* mean you'll kill me, do you?

Juror #8: There's something else I'd like to talk about for a minute. I think we've proved that the old man couldn't have heard the boy say "I'm gonna kill you," but supposing...::Juror #10: You didn't prove it at all. What're you talking about?::Juror #8: But supposing he really did hear it. This phrase, how many times have all of us used it? Probably thousands. "I could kill you for that, darling." "Junior, you do that once more and I'm gonna kill you." "Get in there, Rocky, and kill him!" We say it every day. That doesn't mean we're going to kill anyone.::Juror #3: Wait a minute. What are you trying to give us here? The phrase was "I'm gonna kill you." The kid yelled it at the top of his lungs! Don't tell me he didn't mean it. Anybody says a thing like that the way he said it, they mean it.

Juror #8: According to the testimony, the boy looks guilty... maybe he is. I sat there in court for six days listening while the evidence built up. Everybody sounded so positive, you know, I... I began to get a peculiar feeling about this trial. I mean, nothing is that positive. There're a lot of questions I'd have liked to ask. I don't know, maybe they wouldn't have meant anything, but... I began to get the feeling that the defense counsel wasn't conducting a thorough enough cross-examination. I mean, he... he let too many things go by... little things that...::Juror #10: What little things? Listen, when these fellas don't ask questions it's because they know the answers already and they figure they'll be hurt.::Juror #8: Maybe. It's also possible for a lawyer to be just plain stupid, isn't it? I mean it's possible.::Juror #7: You sound like you met my brother-in-law.

[Juror 8 has convinced everyone to change their votes to 'not guilty' except for Juror 3]::Juror #7: Well, what do we do now?::Juror #8: [to #3] You're alone.::Juror #3: I don't care whether I'm alone or not! It's my right.::Juror #8: It's your right.::Juror #3: Well, what do you want? I say he's guilty.::Juror #8: We want to hear your arguments.::Juror #3: I gave you my arguments!::Juror #8: We're not convinced. We want to hear them again. We have as much time as it takes.::Juror #3: Everything... every single thing that took place in that courtroom, but I mean everything... says he's guilty. What d'ya think? I'm an idiot or somethin'? Why don't cha take that stuff about the old man; the old man who lived there and heard every thing? Or this business about the knife! What, 'cause we found one exactly like it? The old man SAW him. Right there on the stairs. What's the difference how many seconds it was? Every single thing. The knife falling through a hole in his pocket... you can't PROVE he didn't get to the door! Sure, you can take all the time hobblin' around the room, but you can't PROVE it! And what about this business with the El? And the movies! There's a phony deal if I ever heard one. I betcha five thousand dollars I'd remember the movies I saw! I'm tellin' ya: every thing that's gone on has been twisted... and turned. This business with the glasses. How do you know she didn't have 'em on? This woman testified in open court! And what about hearin' the kid yell... huh? I'm tellin' ya, I've got all the facts here...::Juror #3: [He struggles with his notebook, throws it on the table. The photo of him with his son is on top] Here... Ah. Well, that's it - that's the whole case!::[He turns towards the window as the other jurors stare at him]::Juror #3: Well... say something! You lousy bunch of bleedin' hearts. You're not goin' to intimidate me - I'm entitled to my opinion!::[He sees the picture of his son on the table]::Juror #3: Rotten kids... you work your life out!::[He grabs the picture and tears it to pieces. He suddenly realizes what he's doing]::Juror #3: [Breaks down] No. Not guilty. Not guilty.

Juror #2: It's hard to put into words. I just think he's guilty. I thought it was obvious from the word, 'Go'. Nobody proved otherwise.::Juror #8: Nobody has to prove otherwise. The burden of proof is on the prosecution. The defendant doesn't even have to open his mouth. That's in the Constitution.

Stung (1931)

Actors

• Raymond Hatton (actor)
• Amadee J. Van Beuren (producer)
• Crauford Kent (actor)
• Warner Richmond (actor)
• Maurice Black (actor)
• Fred Howard (actor)
• John Hyams (actor)
• William J. Cowen (writer)
• William J. Cowen (director)

Genres

• Crime
• Drama
• Short

• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• When I Was A Child - The Accüsed
• Voices - The Accüsed
• The Night - The Accüsed
• The Corpse Walks - The Accüsed
• Tapping The Vein - The Accüsed
• Room 144 - The Accüsed
• Pounding Nails - The Accüsed
• Grinning (Like An Undertaker) - The Accüsed
• Dropping Like Flies - The Accüsed
• Down And Out - The Accüsed
• Bullet-Ridden Bodies - The Accüsed
• Boris The Spider - The Accüsed

When I was a child
I spent hours in the back of a Dark Greyhound bus.
When I was a child
I heard ma father curse the witch
The neighborhood punchboard.
I squeezed my eyes shut really tight
Whenever I drove by the cemetery at night
But during the day I drank whiskey and smoked cigarettes
In the same cemetery that scared the shit out of me at night.
When I was a child
Afraid to go in the basement
Scared of what was hiding in the dark.
When I was a child I had a father
Who never knew me or saw me grow up.

Voices, do you, do you
Ever hear voices?
Do you ever hear voices
From the dark recesses of your mind?
Voices, do you, do you
Ever hear voices?
Do you ever hear voices
Gnawing pain, driving you slowly mad?
They're always different
They never sound the same
The dark side is beckoning me back again
The phone won't stop ringing
Causing me endless agony
These voices in my head are always taunting me
I'm in my room
They've got me locked away
Nothing outside could fill all these days
I'm Jimi Hendrix
I'm Elvis the King
I know the federal government is watching me
Voices, do you
Do you ever hear voices?
Do you ever hear voices
From the dark recesses of your mind?
Voices, do you, do you
Ever hear voices?
Do you ever hear voices
Gnawing pain, driving you slowly mad?
My life has been taken over
By a part of my mind
Sanity has never been so far away
Reality and nightmare
Melt into one
This constant ringing/screaming in my head won't leave me alone
Curled up on the floor
Four walls and a bed
Me, myself and the voices in my head
Curled up on the floor
Four walls and a bed
Me, myself and the voices in my head
Curled up on the floor
Four walls and a bed
Me, myself and the voices in my head
Curled up on the floor
Four walls and a bed
Me, myself and the voices in my head

Standing on a corner
In the middle of the night
His schizophrenic face
Shrouded in the smoke
Rising from the sewers
Beneath the streets
Cracked lips surrouded teeth
Yellow and decayed.
His schizophrenic face
Shrouded in the thin haze
Of hot breath wheezing from
Dying lungs
Greasy hair covers
Wild blood-shot eyes
Dirty toes poke through
The ends of weathered
Combat boots.
Somewhere in this city
An old man's all alone
Standing on a corner
In the middle of the night.
Reaching in the pocket
Of his battered overcoat
Skeletal hand crucified by arthritis
Clench a half-filled bottle of
Fortified wine
A stream of drool
Runs from the corner of his mouth.
Somewhere in this city
An old man's all alone
Standing on a corner
In the middle of the night.

Alive among the lifeless
How many of us still survive?
Stranded in this hell
Cursed by the walking dead
There's not much time left now
The sun has already begun to set
Time to board up the windows and doors
It'll be dark in half an hour
Rising from forgotten graves
The dead returning to life
The corpse walks
Never to be killed again
Bon(e)y fingers covered in moldy flesh
It's got you by the neck
A look of hunger in dead eyes
Broken teeth sink into your throat
Too late, you saw it too late
Your flesh a feast for fiends
The body scattered on the ground
Blood soaked into gravelly earth
The streets are now empty
I watch the dead as they begin to feed

You say you're living an empty life
Your days filled with nothing but misery and strife
Nobody to call your own as you're slowly wasting away
In this rat-infested hole that you call home
Tapping, tapping, tapping the vein
Rusty razor blade slices deep
Blood spurting
From the gashes in your wrists
Rats are crawling out
From the cracks in the walls
Rats are crawling down
Crawling down your arms
Lapping up your blood
While it's still warm

[Instrumental]

A heavy rain is pouring down
Upon the mourners gathered at your grave
Heads bowed in deadly silence
As the priest recites your eulogy
Pounding nails into the lid of your coffin...
Pound
Casket slowly lowered into the ground
Another body consigned to the grave
Interned in your final resting place
Launched into eternity
Pounding nails into the lid of your coffin...
Pound
A bright light leads you to heaven
Your soul cursed to eternal damnation
Your spirit set free now wanders
Your body buried rots in the ground

You're the filthy creature
Crouched in the shadows
Of a street light
Hunched over your catch
Shit, she's barely alive
Blood dried up and caked in her hair
Her face just a bloody mess
Just when you think you're gonna
Finish the job
Martha comes along
Just to set things straight.
Gaping mouth
Full of razor-sharp teeth
All seeing eyes
She's staring you down.
She shatters your skull
In her vice-like grip
She tears your head off
Your victim gets sick
Lucky for you she wasn't dead
You just lost your head
Your brains oozing out
From between her fingers
Your blood wets her lips.
Grinning like an undertaker
Ready to dress a corpse
Grinning like an undertaker
Ready to dress a corpse

You got this habit you just can't shake
There's not much more your body can take
So you jab that needle in your vein
Another load of dirt for your brain
Scars and scars up and down your arms
Your body covered in a sheet of sweat
You made the choice
To drag out your life
In a dull drugged oblivion
Eyes wide open lips blue with death
Your lifeless body slumped over in a chair
No show at your funeral
No flowers on your grave
Dropping like flies

On doorsteps and in alleyways
I see these fools passed out
At any time of the day
Crashed out in a bed of piss
Empty bottle cradled in their arms.
So tell me
Who's job is it to tend these few people?
Back to self-sufficiency and respect
I turn my head it puts chills in my heart
If I give you some change to clear my mind
Would I have played my part?
There's a man who has a dream
But never seems to make it
'Cause everytime he gets some, someone tries to take it.
A second chance at life, no one will give him
In an alley wat is where he's livin'
You see him there you walk by laughing and smirking
Thinking to yourself it's only his fault, he ain't working.
That might be true but it's only half the story so
Kick back while we tell you his story.
He came back from the war a veteran
The only thing he learned to do was kill and shoot a gun.
That comes in handy when you're fighting a war
But when you came back to society you need much more.
So all he had was terror in his mind
No job skills so a job he couldn't find.
The only thing he had was memories
Of his friends being killed and crying and dying babies.
So he grabbled bottle for an escape
From all the mental torment that the war had made.
Now you're calling him a bum 'cause he can't get none
While you're sitting at home not willing to get some.
Sharing and caring is what he needs now
Some support for his marals, some help for his ego.
So he can go to the top where every man can
And all he really needs is a helping hand.
So tell me
Who's job is it to tend these few people?
Back to self-sufficiency and respect
I turn my head it puts chills in my heart
If I give you some change to clear my mind
Would I have played my part?
Cold dark and lonely
Broken and abused
Homeless hungry and hated
Forgotten
Only remembered on the streets
And they're down, down and out.

In 1989 in New York city alone
140 youths under the age of 18
Were gunned down
Gunned down
Bullet ridden bodies
The streets are the new battle fields
Someone's gonna die, the blood never stops flowing
The streets are the new battle fields
Littered with bullet ridden bodies
And families mourning their dead.
14 years ol selling five dollar rocks of crack cocaine
You ripped off the wrong people
Now you've got the sights of the 9mm
Aimed at the back, back of your head.
The first shot fired pierces his skull
As eight more shots are pumped into his body
As he crumples into the new fallen snow.
14 years ol selling five dollar rocks of crack cocaine
You crossed the wrong people
Now you've got the sights of the 9mm
Aimed at the back, back of your head.
The blood, his blood, drips from the snow
Into the slush-filled streets.
A crowd starts to gather
A young girl begins to scream
BOGOTA, COLUMBIA
50 bodies float down a raging river
Hands cut off at the wrist
Headless and bloated from weeks
In the tropical water.
The streets are the new battle fields
Someone's gonna die, the blood never stops flowing
The streets are the new battle fields
An families mourning their dead.

Look, he's crawling up my wall
Black and hairy, very small
Now he's up above my head
Hanging by a little thread
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Now he's dropped on to the floor
Heading for the bedroom door
Maybe he's as scared as me
Where's he gone now, I can't see
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
There he is wrapped in a ball
Doesn't seem to move at all
Perhaps he's dead, I'll just make sure
Pick this book up off the floor
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
He's come to a sticky end
Don't think he will ever mend
Never more will he crawl 'round
He's embedded in the ground
Boris the spider
Boris the spider