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Poker (2001) CD1

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A film by
Those who live by the sword, die by the sword.
Then this guy, Belmondo l think, turns to the camera and says:
''c'est bon, la campagne''. The country is beautiful.
You get it? Straight to the camera.
And if you hate hills, lakes, the whole countryside,
you can just go fuck yourself.
Starring
lt's weird to think
you can actually make a living playing cards.
But like in all basic things, they're just a tool.
l am a professional poker player.
Special guest star
lnvestors give me money to play and l get 15 o/o of the profits.
lf l win, cool. lf l lose, we're both fucked, him and me.
Art Designer
Sounds quite simple, but the catch is l hardly ever lose.
But why do they give me their money? Why do l play?
Now we come to the basics.
The ontology within gambling.
Man wants to organize things, and the fear of growing old
and dying basically comes from his childhood.
ln primary socialization he is capable of logical deduction
and until the first traces of the abstract are visible, he is happy.
There are exceptions like people with an unhappy childhood.
They're forced to adopt the abstract
before the end of primary socialization.
Growing up they realize that things just don't make sense.
The things they used to think were logical,
aren't so logical any more.
Now people start approaching the abstract analytically.
We organize the abstract to find the logical.
The common question of what luck is and how to find it
is expressed in other questions like what is absolute truth,
absolute beauty, love. They're all mirrored in gambling.
And the answers are there, too, because gambling projects life.
Hello, yes, it's me. l know it's over.
What am l supposed to do? l can't stop thinking about you.
l know, l know why we were together.
'cause... l don't know.
How can l say what l couldn't say these 5 years? OK, yeah.
So l'm selfish. The whole world, everybody is selfish.
Altruism is something the rich can afford
and those with nothing to give. of course there's a point to this.
Yes, l'm saying the same things, l'm still the same person.
lt's me, remember?
You held me and told me you loved me.
You said you'd love me forever.
Remember? l don't know why. Fuck, maybe l'll feel better
if you admit that you screwed up too.
Just stop with the chick tricks! Hey, don't you hang up on me!
lf you hang up, l'll come and slam your head against the wall!
Don't fuck with me! Fuck!
So...
organizing the abstract,
mankind finds two unknown elements messing up their plan.
Those two elements are luck and misfortune.
They aren't really unknown elements, but rather variables.
Why do these variables change? People always look for rules.
Some only play for money, but they're not real gamblers.
Real gamblers play only for the sake of the system.
Real gamblers are scientists
exploring the fucking variables within the game.
There's nothing irrational about gambling.
By inventing the roulette, Pascal did one hell of a thing.
The sum of all the numbers of the roulette is 666,
the number associated with the devil.
The cards are called devil's images. That's why gambling is forbidden
in all religions, from peaceful Buddhism to the more aggressive
christianity and lslam. By solving the riddle of the variables
you'd solve all onthological questions.
And that would make you very fucking much like God.
lf you ask me, God is nothing but a big gambler.
Hello? Who the fuck are you?
What? Put her on the phone. Put her on now!
Doesn't want to talk to me? God damn it, put her on!
Put her on, or l'll come and kick both your fucking asses!
Shut up, you mother fucker! God damn it! Fuck!
Hey, man, what do you think?
You hear me, man? What do you think?
Yeah, l saw that movie ,Breathless,,
but what's it got to do with gambling? -Everything, damn it.
That's what l've been trying to explain. Picture this.
Say that American chick is the queen of hearts
and you have four cards on the table.
Ace, king, jack and ten of hearts.
The other guy has 3 aces and, say, the king of spades.
You're holding 2 more cards and so does the other guy.
But how the fuck do you know what he's got?
All you know is he can't have four aces.
The others have folded. He raises, buying another card.
He thinks you have a flush or a straight, and it's possible
he has a full house or he's gonna get it now.
So what happens? You call. Why?
You've come too far to back out now.
You both get the last card. You watch him closely.
His face is still, but he makes a little nervous gesture
not as nervous as you think, but you know he can't have a full.
He's counting on that one card.
Do not look at your card!
Look him straight in the eye. That's the crucial moment.
Victory or defeat.
And what happens? He folds. Why? He simply cannot believe
that you're better than him. No gambler can believe that,
and so he folds. Gamblers don't know how to lose.
They may look like they do but they don't.
lf you did, there'd be no adrenaline to it.
And now, the two most important things.
You must not bluff. You have to believe,
with your whole being, that you're holding these cards.
You have to know that card is the queen of hearts.
That's what Belmondo does in the end. He turns around
and the fucking cops are sure he's holding a gun.
But he'd rather die, damn it, than be disappointed.
And you bet for the same reason.
And now the last major thing.
ln no case, absolutely no fucking case
can you look at your card after he folds.
lf you do, everyone will know you were bluffing.
You'll lose faith in yourself. To you, that card
is as good as the queen of hearts, so there's no point.
Man, if you're capable of that, if you can do that,
then you can do
anything you want. Anything. Any time.
l just don't get you. Don't you get every fucking thing you want?
What else do you need? That's the thanks l get.
l even bought you that great big present for christmas.
Wasn't that from Santa? -Santa? Yeah, right, there is no Santa.
Just your crappy father, buying you stuff once a year.
He thinks that's it. But l wash your clothes, l wait on you
and what do l get? He buys you a bike
and you're fooled in a second. You're like some little slut.
Daddy, daddy. Well, fuck daddy. Does he give any money for you?
Did he call when you were sick? -You make him feel like shit.
No wonder he has no authority. Just throw it away for all l care.
You even talk like him, ha? Take it and get out of my sight.
Go see if he can find room for you and his Lolita sluts.
Take this bike and get out of my sight!
Man, l'd die for a cup of coffee. Stop if you see a coffee shop,
l won't make it another six miles.
You don't have to. There's a thermos in the back. -Yes.
l'll never forget this.
Shit!
OK, cold, but why so bitter? You like it this way?
only barbarians like their coffee sweet.
And you're so fucking civilized? -l don't want to be a smart ass,
but it's just a matter of taste. Taste - as in one of the senses.
We sense things differently. So coffee should be coffee,
milk, milk and sugar, sugar. No point in mixing them.
lt would all taste like bad sugar. -or, by mixing them,
you get a whole new flavor. -Which isn't coffee.
lt is, it's sweet coffee. -You just said you needed coffee,
but what you really needed was sugar. -No,
l needed a cup of coffee, only sweet coffee.
lt's as if a salad stops being a salad if you season it.
All l'm saying is that coffee's no longer coffee
if you put sugar in it. -What are you,
a fucking snob or something?
Tea at five, sweet coffee for barbarians. -Just fuck off.
l'd like to know. Are you a fucking snob or what?
Maybe l am. Yeah, a fucking snob.
l thought l was at a higher level,
but that's really how snobs think.
coffee for me is a basic element of life and l want it to be pure.
The rest is a matter of personal perception.
coffee is just some green stuff
that's picked, dried and ground
and then you add sugar. You call it sweet coffee,
for me it's just coffee. And so we come to white socks.
There's no rule that says you can't wear white socks
on a dark suit. lf you do, then you're a redneck, right?
Look at Michael Jackson. He makes millions wearing white socks.
Michael Jackson makes millions selling Pepsi. -Damn it, man,
if people thought he sucked, he couldn't sell Pepsi.
Go to the market and the salad guy
is wearing white socks and a black suit.
That doesn't really matter. There's no big money involved.
But go buy a Mercedes,
you'll see that guy won't be wearing white socks.
You're saying l'm a redneck drinking sweet coffee,
and so l'll never own a Mercedes. -You don't get it.
There's no real connection between coffee and socks.
l don't give a fuck if you get it or not.
For me that's a moral issue. -l'll try to understand.
But right now, what l'd give for a cup of sweet coffee with milk.
To hell with morals.
l knew something would go wrong.
Rabbits don't just jump under cars like that. Fuck!
That rabbit was a messenger telling me not to come.
These guys are crazy.
What? Did you need this? Did you?
Should've stayed at my sister's with those wasted engineers.
oh, sis, why did l come here? There's always something.
Something's gonna happen. l can feel it in my bones.
What is it? You want something? What?
You want a rabbit's foot?
A rabbit's foot? That's what you want. Well, l don't have it.
You know what? come and get it, you mother fucker!
What? You're scared, ha? That's different then.
l get it. lt's easy being a hot shot
but then again this gun's making you nervous. ls it?
lt's cool, l'm cool. Let's sit down and talk.
But don't try to fuck me ,cause your mama might like me.
What? Your mama? lt hurts, doesn't it, asshole?
Maybe it reminds you of how you fell out her fucking womb
looking as pathetic as you do now.
or maybe it's just this gun? or that helpless feeling
when they pulled you out and slapped your little ass, ha?
ls that it? Yeah, that's it.
lmagine how it's gonna feel when l put a bullet in your head.
What is it, Jackie boy? Jacko! You shit in your pants?
Five more minutes.
Yeah, just a second.
What the fuck are we doing here?
Well, l could take a piss.
Man, this nature's beautiful. Just look at those hills.
Slovenia is really fucking beautiful.
Are you playing with me?
What is it? Who sent you? -Pick up the shovel and move it.
l'm not going anywhere till you tell me what's happening.
God damn you, you fuck! Mother fucker, you shot my ear!
The next one's going to your head if you don't shut up.
Take the shovel. -lf you want money, just... -Lets go.
No. Kill me here if you want to. -l will,
if you don't shut up. -l can't. l'm scared shitless.
can't l at least talk? -OK, talk. While you're walking.
Damn you...
You're not the type to shoot me.
l have to get to that game. But my car broke down, get it?
That fucking car. So l had to hitchhike.
You don't even know me. l just don't get it.
You can go and leave me here. You can take the car, OK?
Take all my stuff, l don't care.
l'm going, l'm going.
OK, this is fine. -What's fine? Hey, what's fine?
l want a hole here. About three feet deep.
Start digging.
Yes, OK. But how do you know it's my money?
AB. Do you know how many bills start with AB? Listen...
Go take another bill and tell me the fucking number.
So what if he suspects! Just shoot the fucker!
No, wait...
Wait till l get there. We can still shoot him later.
Fuck, what do you mean, when am l coming?
l'm not dressed and l'm watching a movie.
lt's a classic and l want to see the end.
l don't give a fuck about you two! Just wait for me there.
Hey, you. -What?
Are you married? -l used to be. You?
No. l lived with someone for about six years.
Me too, for a year and a half. lt didn't work out. lt never does.
What do you mean? l know people who've been together for ages.
Like my folks. They're still together after 40 years.
Economy. -What do you mean?
People stay together because of economy.
couples accumulate loads of stuff. A house, a TV set, a car.
Do they cut them in half? of course not.
They say it's for the sake of the kids. l call it economy.
What about love, respect? -God, man, where do you live?
lt's a natural process, right?
People break up. one gets tired of the other.
The first one to do it is usually to blame.
once the sex is gone, there's no more love either.
The other one wonders what's wrong. ls he too old,
does he have a bad breath? The more he tries,
the more the other one can't stand him.
He loses his self-confidence,
and starts feeling sorry for himself.
The other one doesn't respect him any more.
And without respect everything else gets fucked up.
lf they're responsible enough, the economy will win,
if not, there's nothing else to do but break up. That's it.
So, your relationship's over, or what? -Yeah.
That sucks, l know. She got tired of you? -Yeah,
she threw me out. -Yeah, that happened to me, too.
l just don't get these women.
The one that threw me out, l met her at a poker game.
She was a professional card dealer.
lt was love at first sight. l almost lost once ,cause of her.
Then, after a year or so, she starts bitching about poker.
That's how they are. They always want you to change,
but you can't be what they want you to be,
so it gets worse. Then they want things the way they were,
but that's impossible. So everything gets fucked
and we're back to that same old story.
You're right. They're all cunts.
Now keep digging or you'll ruin my day.
can't we make some sort of deal, man?
That's what l get talking to a psycho like you.
No wonder she threw you out!
Tell me about the game. What does it all look like?
Fuck you. -What's with you? l just asked a simple question.
You wanna do some digging? -Are you nuts?
What, it was just a simple question.
What does the game look like?
Normally l couldn't wait to talk about it.
l'd look into the distance with a certain light in my eye.
l'd be so moved to talk about this ritual of manhood.
How real pros wear tuxedos and use made up names,
how the whole thing is like a religious experience,
and how every player proves his identity
with his end of a torn up card, usually an ace.
And how there's always a lady present making sure
you never run out of coffee, sweet coffee with milk.
l'd tell you all that and more.
But since you're being such a prick
l'll just tell you to fuck yourself.
What do those cunts look like? -They're not cunts. Fuck! -What?
There's a fucking skull in here! -Give it to me.
Are you nuts? lt's disgusting! You'd better shoot me.
Fine by me. -OK, damn it. l was just kidding? Here.
This one's sure been here a while.
l don't want to patronize you, but you better stop being a pain.
l can tell you what l'll do to you, if you're interested.
You're a psycho, damn it! -l'll tell you anyway
unless you stop bugging me. l'll wrap a wire round your dick
until it's quite numb and you don't feel a thing,
then l'll take a knife and cut it all off.
or just give me a blow job,
unless you're afraid l'd piss in your mouth!
You're not cooperating. Maybe you'd rather
l pulled it off right now. -Do it, for all l care.
You know what your problem is? communication.
You're yapping and yapping, and you don't even know
when to stop and breathe. -Fuck, you should talk!
And you don't listen to anyone but yourself.
But l still don't deserve this. -Think of it as a mercy killing.
Listen, man. come on, God damn it!
lf you want money, just say so.
You want money, man?
Who the fuck are you?
Who's not dead? What kid? What?
l've had enough of you!
GENTLEMEN You think this is funny?
l usually get five grand for a fuck. -Five grand?
Five grand for a fuck?
You get five grand?
Just look at my clothes!
l have a date tonight and look at me!
l can't go out like this! -cut it out and get in the car.
There should be a bonus for jobs like this.
l'll pay for the cleaners. -No, butt out. l want...
l told you, never in the head. lt explodes like a melon
and now look at you. Let's go. -What would you do?
We've been looking for him for a month and there he was
with a gun in his hands. of course l aimed for the head.
And if he'd shot us, then what? He'd fill us up with lead.
Would that be better? -Aren't you listening? Get in the car.
Your head's already full of lead. -Get in the car. come on.
l want to settle this. Whose head is full of lead?
l want the money for a new suit now!
l'd better give you the money. How much can it be?
You know, it's not cheap.
There's your suit now.
P S 2004
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