Barton Fink
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:44:02
If I close my eyes,
:44:04
I can almost smell the live oak.
:44:07
That's chicken fat, Bill.
:44:11
Well, my olfactory's
turning womanish on me--

:44:14
lying and deceitful.
:44:16
Still, I must say I haven't
felt peace like this

:44:19
since the grand productive days.
:44:22
Don't you find it so, Barton?
:44:25
Ain't writing peace?
:44:29
Well...
:44:32
actually...
:44:34
no, Bill.
:44:39
No. I've always found
:44:41
that writing comes
from a great inner pain.

:44:44
Maybe it's a pain
that comes from a realization

:44:47
that one must do something
for one's fellow man

:44:51
to help somehow ease the suffering.
:44:54
Maybe it's personal pain.
:44:57
At any rate, I don't believe
:45:00
good work is possible without it.
:45:02
Hmm.
:45:03
Well, me, I just enjoy
making things up.

:45:08
Yes, sir. Escape.
:45:11
It's when I can't write
and escape myself,

:45:14
that I want to rip my head off
:45:17
and run screaming through the street
:45:19
with my balls
in a fruit picker's pail.

:45:22
Hmm.
:45:23
This will sometimes help.
:45:24
That doesn't help anything, Bill.
:45:27
I've never found that
to help my writing.

:45:29
Your writing?
:45:31
Son, have you ever heard
the story of Solomon's mammy?

:45:35
Barton, you should read this.
:45:37
I think it's Bill's finest,
:45:38
or among his finest, anyway.
:45:40
So now I'm supposed to roll over
:45:42
and get my belly scratched?
:45:43
Bill.
:45:44
Look, uh...
:45:45
maybe it's none of my business,
:45:47
but don't you think
a man with your talent...

:45:50
your first obligation
is to your gift?

:45:52
Shouldn't you be doing
whatever you have to

:45:55
to work again?
:45:56
What would that be?
:45:57
I don't know.
:45:59
But with that drink,

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