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Jan. 29th, 2010 12:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
merrymelodyPicspam of Tim Roth on Tales From the Crypt (Season 3, 1992, episode no. #8 ‘Easel Kill Ya’)
Tim plays Jack Craig, a struggling artist. (If you’re familiar with Brian from ‘Spaced’, you’re on the right track.)
We open with him explaining to his agent that his latest paintings are ‘supposed to be ironic’.
She advises him, with hilarious sincerity, to ‘go back to drinking’ as at least his work had passion then.
He points out that he’s been working day and night for six months, and she promised him a show.
Sadly his pout is in vain, she just offers him a job lugging art.
So, naturally, he has a fantasy of killing her with a hammer, complete with a pretentious voiceover:
‘There was something almost beautiful about it. I think I would have enjoyed killing her.’
Pan out to reveal he’s at a meeting of ‘Obsessives Anonymous’, a fictitious support group for what seems like a variety of issues – drinking, murderous thoughts, co-dependent relationships.
His teacher compliments him for not killing his agent. (Clearly Obsessives Anonymous are more hardcore than I thought!)
Sharon, a fellow group member, tells Jack he’s too hard on himself. (I’m not quite sure how. He’s just confessed to fetishizing murder, but what the hell, she’s an addict; plus she clearly wants to hit it, understandably.)
Jack self-pityingly explains he’s been broke for a year, without having sold a single painting, but hey, with no suffering, there’s no art!
Sharon suggests he needs inspiration, pointing to herself.
Jack reminds her ‘I thought you were supposed to be staying away from obsessive relationships.’
Sharon says ‘Who said anything about getting obsessed?’ (Well, no-one, but you meet in ‘Obsessives Anonymous’. It’s sort of unavoidable, no?)
She adds that she wants him to ‘loosen up’, clear code for sexy times.
Jack and Sharon bond over a tap water (romantic) about him defeating the ‘Other Side’ of himself, and arrange more sittings.
Later that night, Jack tries to paint, but a teenage boy is playing music obnoxiously loudly. After bellowing a few times, Jack accidentally knocks a pot over, which falls onto the kid, knocking him from the balcony to the ground, and killing him.
Jack makes to run into his apartment, before stopping, turning around, and taking photos of the corpse.
Cut to his apartment where he’s painted a macabre still-life of the accident, noting that it’s good, but who will buy it?
His eye falls on a copy of an art magazine (with the tag line ‘Post post modernism?’ – lmao) and an article about a Malcolm Mayflower who collects morbid art. He smirks.
Jack and Mayflower begin a bizarrely homoerotic relationship. All well and good if it’s with Oldman or Keitel, but my enjoyment is sadly hampered by Mayflower (William ‘Die Hard’ Atherton) having a bouffant-y 80s hairdo and white suit.
Mayflower begins with ‘Don’t be coy, Jack. Let’s see what you’ve got.’
Jack shows off the painting, asking ‘You like this?’
Mayflower corrects him: ‘No. I covet it.’
He notes that he has many photographs of the evil in the world, but they all lack the artist’s touch, the ability to filter them through the darkness in the artist’s own soul. (Da-da DUM!!!1) Does Jack have some of that in him? (If not, would he like some?)
Jack avoids the question, asking if he wants to buy the painting.
Mayflower eagerly asks how much (poker clearly not being his game).
I should mention approximately 75% of this episode is Tim Roth saying ‘I don’t know’ to obvious questions in a Thoughtful Tone, and the line gets another outing here.
Mayflower offers him $200k, as a down payment on his next one.
Jack wonders if he’s ready to paint another, and refuses the champagne he’s offered.
But Mayflower reminds him he’s ‘on the brink. Don’t turn back now. Don’t be afraid.’ If there’s anything I’ve learnt, is when someone accuses you of being chicken, drink whatever it is they’re offering you, with no delay!
That night he’s working on Sharon’s painting and fantasising about her in a negligee. (Prft, a little tame – this is HBO! So much for his dark, dark soul.) Frustrated with the work, he goes out to buy vodka.
On the way he runs into his charming landlady, who asks if he’s ‘still pretending to be sober?’ and asks him to get her a bottle. Jack says the drinks are on him this time.
Landlady sneers ‘Oh yeah, who’d ya kill?’ (Subtle.)
Jack brags that he sold a painting to which she retorts ‘Well, there’s a sucker born every minute. (What kind of slumlady is she?! Don’t antagonise someone offering free booze!)
Jack asks if the boxes surrounding her are ‘the kid’s stuff’?
She affirms this, noting that lugging it around means she ‘could trip, break my neck!’
Jack turns slowly, smiles and offers some help.
In a genuinely funny moment, the next shot is her falling down the stairs, onto some convenient shears.
Jack not only photographs the body, but chokes her when she does the classic horror movie ‘resurrected, for one last scare!’ wake up. He then collects some blood in a jar to use for paint. Nice.
There’s a shot of an empty bottle and a painting a little more fantasy-based (the landlady looks like a huge insect) as Jack mumbles ‘Who is it?’ at the knocking on his door.
It’s Sharon.
He hides the blood, photos and painting before answering the door.
(This cap is of importance to the plot. Really.)
Sharon, in a bitching 90s ensemble of high-waisted jeans and a matching denim jacket, says he hasn’t attended group for a couple of weeks.
Jack tells her he now has a patron, and sharply tells her not to touch his easel. (No euphemism.)
He says he won’t be able to finish her portrait as he doesn’t ‘have it in (him).’
Sharon spouts the generic Female Love Interest support lines about how he needs to believe in himself.
Jack tells her to cut the ‘sweetness and light bullshit. Do you think a little compassion’s gonna ‘drive the bad boy out’? You don’t really know me.’
He shows her the painting.
Sharon tells him ‘Yes, I do.’
Sexing ensues.
Sharon gets on top, telling Jack ‘I love you. Give in to me. Don’t hold back.’
He strokes her hair, but then shifts onto her to reveal Mayflower, smirking and echoing her ‘Give in to me, Jack. Give in to your other side. It’s what you want.’
Jack brandishes an alarm clock over Mayflower’s head, only to look down at a terrified Sharon.
Ah, the awkwardness of post-sex conversation. ‘Was I big enough? Did you come? Was it weird when I fantasised you were a dude and tried to brain you with my alarm clock?’
Jack gets up, grabs his painting and orders Sharon to stay in the apartment. She asks where he’s going, but he just leaves, without even pulling on his shirt.
He’s, of course, at Mayflower’s. (The subtext rapidly becoming text with this one.)
Mayflower makes noises about this being the beginning of a wonderful career, to which Jack corrects him, telling him ‘The end of a career. This is not gonna work, Mayflower.’
Mayflower reminds Jack ‘You’re not a man easily satisfied by the ordinary. You’re never going to be inspired by the simple pleasures. Like love. Happiness. You need more.’
Jack simply says ‘Give me my money.’
Mayflower does, telling him ‘There’s so much more where this came from.’
Jack says ‘I won’t be needing it.’
But Mayflower creepily lays some foreshadowing down, noting ‘Oh, I think you will.’
Meanwhile, back at Jack’s Cocoon of Horror, Sharon has found photographs of herself, the dead landlady, and the dead kid on the balcony, as well as the bloody paint pot.
Jack leans over her shoulder with a ‘Let me explain.’
LOL, it’d almost be worth staying just to hear that.
But Sharon’s finally discovered a streak of self-preservation, and holds a knife to his throat, backing away.
Smiling creepily, Jack calmly tells her ‘I’m not that person anymore. Sharon, I need you now.’
But Sharon is gone, adios, bye-bye.
Unfortunately for her, she runs out of the apartment and into the path of an oncoming taxi.
Heh, any movie or show mentioning American healthcare is always baffling to foreign viewers.
The doctor at the hospital is basically ‘Well, she has a...subdermal haemotoma. *fishhook eyebrows* We’d do something, but she’s poor, so I guess we’ll just sell her organs on ebay unless you somehow come up with the dough for us to operate in the next couple of hours. Feel free to do ANYTHING to get it. Especially murder the first stranger in the parking lot you see.’
Jack plays his last card: ‘How about if I make crazy eyes at you?’
Doctor: ‘No dice.’
So Jack attacks the first stranger in the parking lot he sees, in order to sell one last painting to Mayflower.
The last image of his work is the most bone-chillingly awful. I can barely cope with living with a world in which it exists. Click below if you dare!
But seriously. Hilariously, the paintings have gone from abstract, to still life, to fantasy (don’t you love my mastery of the technical terms?) to...finger painting. On cardboard. WITH BLOOD!1! And a hunk of gore.
Mayflowers pays Jack $100k, telling him ‘You’ve made me very happy.’
God only knows what he’s going to do with it, thankfully that’s the last we see of him.
Jack runs in, cheque at the ready, but what of the obligatory twist in the tale?! (*drumroll*)
Unfortunately, the man in the parking lot he killed was the specialist coming to save Sharon (and apparently the only doctor in the world?)
Adios, Sharon, this time for real.
Jack’s problems aren’t over, though. (To be honest, the relationship was probably beyond saving at this point, if she wasn’t...y’know, a corpse.)
A policeman approaches, brandishing a blood stained paintbrush. ‘I understand you’re an artist?’
(Well, he’s certainly not a master criminal!)
Jack stares through Sharon’s window and at the audience as the blinds slowly close.
Tim plays Jack Craig, a struggling artist. (If you’re familiar with Brian from ‘Spaced’, you’re on the right track.)
We open with him explaining to his agent that his latest paintings are ‘supposed to be ironic’.
She advises him, with hilarious sincerity, to ‘go back to drinking’ as at least his work had passion then.
He points out that he’s been working day and night for six months, and she promised him a show.
Sadly his pout is in vain, she just offers him a job lugging art.
So, naturally, he has a fantasy of killing her with a hammer, complete with a pretentious voiceover:
‘There was something almost beautiful about it. I think I would have enjoyed killing her.’
Pan out to reveal he’s at a meeting of ‘Obsessives Anonymous’, a fictitious support group for what seems like a variety of issues – drinking, murderous thoughts, co-dependent relationships.
His teacher compliments him for not killing his agent. (Clearly Obsessives Anonymous are more hardcore than I thought!)
Sharon, a fellow group member, tells Jack he’s too hard on himself. (I’m not quite sure how. He’s just confessed to fetishizing murder, but what the hell, she’s an addict; plus she clearly wants to hit it, understandably.)
Jack self-pityingly explains he’s been broke for a year, without having sold a single painting, but hey, with no suffering, there’s no art!
Sharon suggests he needs inspiration, pointing to herself.
Jack reminds her ‘I thought you were supposed to be staying away from obsessive relationships.’
Sharon says ‘Who said anything about getting obsessed?’ (Well, no-one, but you meet in ‘Obsessives Anonymous’. It’s sort of unavoidable, no?)
She adds that she wants him to ‘loosen up’, clear code for sexy times.
Jack and Sharon bond over a tap water (romantic) about him defeating the ‘Other Side’ of himself, and arrange more sittings.
Later that night, Jack tries to paint, but a teenage boy is playing music obnoxiously loudly. After bellowing a few times, Jack accidentally knocks a pot over, which falls onto the kid, knocking him from the balcony to the ground, and killing him.
Jack makes to run into his apartment, before stopping, turning around, and taking photos of the corpse.
Cut to his apartment where he’s painted a macabre still-life of the accident, noting that it’s good, but who will buy it?
His eye falls on a copy of an art magazine (with the tag line ‘Post post modernism?’ – lmao) and an article about a Malcolm Mayflower who collects morbid art. He smirks.
Jack and Mayflower begin a bizarrely homoerotic relationship. All well and good if it’s with Oldman or Keitel, but my enjoyment is sadly hampered by Mayflower (William ‘Die Hard’ Atherton) having a bouffant-y 80s hairdo and white suit.
Mayflower begins with ‘Don’t be coy, Jack. Let’s see what you’ve got.’
Jack shows off the painting, asking ‘You like this?’
Mayflower corrects him: ‘No. I covet it.’
He notes that he has many photographs of the evil in the world, but they all lack the artist’s touch, the ability to filter them through the darkness in the artist’s own soul. (Da-da DUM!!!1) Does Jack have some of that in him? (If not, would he like some?)
Jack avoids the question, asking if he wants to buy the painting.
Mayflower eagerly asks how much (poker clearly not being his game).
I should mention approximately 75% of this episode is Tim Roth saying ‘I don’t know’ to obvious questions in a Thoughtful Tone, and the line gets another outing here.
Mayflower offers him $200k, as a down payment on his next one.
Jack wonders if he’s ready to paint another, and refuses the champagne he’s offered.
But Mayflower reminds him he’s ‘on the brink. Don’t turn back now. Don’t be afraid.’ If there’s anything I’ve learnt, is when someone accuses you of being chicken, drink whatever it is they’re offering you, with no delay!
That night he’s working on Sharon’s painting and fantasising about her in a negligee. (Prft, a little tame – this is HBO! So much for his dark, dark soul.) Frustrated with the work, he goes out to buy vodka.
On the way he runs into his charming landlady, who asks if he’s ‘still pretending to be sober?’ and asks him to get her a bottle. Jack says the drinks are on him this time.
Landlady sneers ‘Oh yeah, who’d ya kill?’ (Subtle.)
Jack brags that he sold a painting to which she retorts ‘Well, there’s a sucker born every minute. (What kind of slumlady is she?! Don’t antagonise someone offering free booze!)
Jack asks if the boxes surrounding her are ‘the kid’s stuff’?
She affirms this, noting that lugging it around means she ‘could trip, break my neck!’
Jack turns slowly, smiles and offers some help.
In a genuinely funny moment, the next shot is her falling down the stairs, onto some convenient shears.
Jack not only photographs the body, but chokes her when she does the classic horror movie ‘resurrected, for one last scare!’ wake up. He then collects some blood in a jar to use for paint. Nice.
There’s a shot of an empty bottle and a painting a little more fantasy-based (the landlady looks like a huge insect) as Jack mumbles ‘Who is it?’ at the knocking on his door.
It’s Sharon.
He hides the blood, photos and painting before answering the door.
(This cap is of importance to the plot. Really.)
Sharon, in a bitching 90s ensemble of high-waisted jeans and a matching denim jacket, says he hasn’t attended group for a couple of weeks.
Jack tells her he now has a patron, and sharply tells her not to touch his easel. (No euphemism.)
He says he won’t be able to finish her portrait as he doesn’t ‘have it in (him).’
Sharon spouts the generic Female Love Interest support lines about how he needs to believe in himself.
Jack tells her to cut the ‘sweetness and light bullshit. Do you think a little compassion’s gonna ‘drive the bad boy out’? You don’t really know me.’
He shows her the painting.
Sharon tells him ‘Yes, I do.’
Sexing ensues.
Sharon gets on top, telling Jack ‘I love you. Give in to me. Don’t hold back.’
He strokes her hair, but then shifts onto her to reveal Mayflower, smirking and echoing her ‘Give in to me, Jack. Give in to your other side. It’s what you want.’
Jack brandishes an alarm clock over Mayflower’s head, only to look down at a terrified Sharon.
Ah, the awkwardness of post-sex conversation. ‘Was I big enough? Did you come? Was it weird when I fantasised you were a dude and tried to brain you with my alarm clock?’
Jack gets up, grabs his painting and orders Sharon to stay in the apartment. She asks where he’s going, but he just leaves, without even pulling on his shirt.
He’s, of course, at Mayflower’s. (The subtext rapidly becoming text with this one.)
Mayflower makes noises about this being the beginning of a wonderful career, to which Jack corrects him, telling him ‘The end of a career. This is not gonna work, Mayflower.’
Mayflower reminds Jack ‘You’re not a man easily satisfied by the ordinary. You’re never going to be inspired by the simple pleasures. Like love. Happiness. You need more.’
Jack simply says ‘Give me my money.’
Mayflower does, telling him ‘There’s so much more where this came from.’
Jack says ‘I won’t be needing it.’
But Mayflower creepily lays some foreshadowing down, noting ‘Oh, I think you will.’
Meanwhile, back at Jack’s Cocoon of Horror, Sharon has found photographs of herself, the dead landlady, and the dead kid on the balcony, as well as the bloody paint pot.
Jack leans over her shoulder with a ‘Let me explain.’
LOL, it’d almost be worth staying just to hear that.
But Sharon’s finally discovered a streak of self-preservation, and holds a knife to his throat, backing away.
Smiling creepily, Jack calmly tells her ‘I’m not that person anymore. Sharon, I need you now.’
But Sharon is gone, adios, bye-bye.
Unfortunately for her, she runs out of the apartment and into the path of an oncoming taxi.
Heh, any movie or show mentioning American healthcare is always baffling to foreign viewers.
The doctor at the hospital is basically ‘Well, she has a...subdermal haemotoma. *fishhook eyebrows* We’d do something, but she’s poor, so I guess we’ll just sell her organs on ebay unless you somehow come up with the dough for us to operate in the next couple of hours. Feel free to do ANYTHING to get it. Especially murder the first stranger in the parking lot you see.’
Jack plays his last card: ‘How about if I make crazy eyes at you?’
Doctor: ‘No dice.’
So Jack attacks the first stranger in the parking lot he sees, in order to sell one last painting to Mayflower.
The last image of his work is the most bone-chillingly awful. I can barely cope with living with a world in which it exists. Click below if you dare!
But seriously. Hilariously, the paintings have gone from abstract, to still life, to fantasy (don’t you love my mastery of the technical terms?) to...finger painting. On cardboard. WITH BLOOD!1! And a hunk of gore.
Mayflowers pays Jack $100k, telling him ‘You’ve made me very happy.’
God only knows what he’s going to do with it, thankfully that’s the last we see of him.
Jack runs in, cheque at the ready, but what of the obligatory twist in the tale?! (*drumroll*)
Unfortunately, the man in the parking lot he killed was the specialist coming to save Sharon (and apparently the only doctor in the world?)
Adios, Sharon, this time for real.
Jack’s problems aren’t over, though. (To be honest, the relationship was probably beyond saving at this point, if she wasn’t...y’know, a corpse.)
A policeman approaches, brandishing a blood stained paintbrush. ‘I understand you’re an artist?’
(Well, he’s certainly not a master criminal!)
Jack stares through Sharon’s window and at the audience as the blinds slowly close.
