Hey, you too cool mothers, I'm Quentin Tarantino - y'know, like, cool - and welcome to the Director's commentary on the DVD blu-ray thing for my Casino Royale vol. 1, my Bond film, from my 2006. It was just too ing cool to get Bond and do cool with it. Y'know it had all got a little stale and the sort of thing Jean-Jacques Rousseau would have called f'in meh, homie, so it needed a ing injection of cool , y'know?.
Chapter 1: Absinthe make the heart grow fonder, and s up the brain pretty good.
OT commentary: We open in black and white - yeah, black and white! First change, no gunbarrel yet and black and white is art, yeah? Christ melonfarmer, I could eat myself up alive and frequently want to do exactomondo f'in that, ya dig? Anyhoo, black and white - and shades of deep, deep f'in grey, it's like an art film, y'know? Like a DW Griffith or Un Chien Andalou by that dead french guy and that dago fag with the moustache.
It is night in the city, an old city. A car draws up to a building from screen left and halts at the door. The building is evidently a bar in a side street somewhere in Eastern Europe. A middle-aged white dude gets out and walks to the door. This is DRYDEN, he is a British agent and very probably a fag.
Caption: THE CZECH REPUBLIC.
Caption: LIKE, DUH.
OT commentary: Y'know, I wanted to play about with the audience's expectations and that would get a f'in big laugh and how many other prickin' Pragues are there?
The inside of the bar.
This is shot at a series of weird angles to make it look like a cross between The Cabinet of Dr Caligari and Polanski's Macbeth and some crazy stuff like The Haunting or and any mother that's seen films will get that, y'know?
The bar is almost empty. DRYDEN passes the camera as cooly as Liberace at a jamboree. As the camera follows him, we see that the only other occupants appear to be the transvestite barman and the band, more of which in a mo-mo. The room has many alcoves, is dark and smoky and strutting up and down the wide bartop, part of which appears to be on fire, there is an all-girl band of barefooted mulatto Koreans singing Neil Diamond cover versions, poorly.
QT commentary: You don't see this until the DVD but I called the bar the Zzzingnt Zzgroby, which is like f'in Czech or Slav or some such for The Titty Twister, like that's a homage to me, y'know.
DRYDEN walks away from the camera towards the barman. We suddenly hear a click, offscreen.
QT commentary: That motherin' click I took from the soundtrack of Das Boot or probably The Lion King or Bagpuss; anyway, anyone who has seen films will know that ing click; it's those little things, those little details that make me absolutely scrumblenumpkinly de-f'in-licious, yeah?
Camera whirls round and in mid-sorta close-up thing just like that bit in The Battleship Potemkin and The Rockford Files, we see a gun looming out of the gloom, followed by a face. This is the face of some washed up character-actor on his last hurrah, a sorta Robert Forster or Pam Grier. This is the man who is playing JAMES BOND.
QT commentary: Y'know, it was obviously Pierce Brosnan for Bond, y'know - obviou-lutely. Coolest mother on the planet. We had a sorta chat before filming, I think it was me talking mostly, and we hit on this new angle to play Bond, y'know 'cause everyone thinks they know Bond but they really f'in don't, y'know, so we decided on Bond, at the start of the story, being washed up and out of the service due to that last film, whatever it was called, and having to earn his f'in stripes back for England or whatever and also to play him as a washed up American hero because that resonates, y'know? No-one knows about the Queen and china cups and like that any more, yeah? Everyone wants an Irish-American hero, y'know - he's just this regular guy who happens to work for the Brits. And Brosnan saw that and got the accent down absolute, yeah? A-f'in-mazin.
BOND is sitting at a table. Behind him there is a poster of the Czech version of Kiss Me Deadly, like that's too sorta out-there, yeah? In front of him, a glass of absinthe: this shines out in green.
QT commentary: Such a cool thing, they drink absinthe those Czech guys - I mean, how cool is that? I see Bond as an absinthe sorta guy, like Erik Estrada in CHiPs or Ching Chang Choller in Dragon Master Death II, that sorta cool, he just bleeds it.
That bitch M doesn't mind you earning money on the side, Dryden. She'd just much prefer it, ya dig, if you didn't do it by selling mother ing secrets, yer .
DRYDEN sits at the table. The green absinthe still glows like that scene in The Magnificent Ambersons (probably).
Ah, Bond. A very much unsurprise to see you here. You appear with the tedious inevitability of your next drink.
Close up on BOND: get it so he looks like Elvis in Fun in Acapulco. Get it like that or I walk, yeah?
Yeah, nice line, Marciano. But I'm the one holding the gun.
Good gun? You like that gun, Bond? Looks like the sort of gun a real man would have, like Sonny Chiba or Walter Mondale.
You bet your motherin' a-hole, mongtard. Walther PPK. When you absolutely, positively gotta kill every last mother[censored]er in the room. So look around you bandito; you are that last mother[censored]er.
One of the advantages of being station chief; I'd know who had been reinstated as a double-oh, wouldn't I? Last I heard of you, you were in disgrace.
DRYDEN removes his gloves in what can only be described as a homosexy manner.
(Unsmiling, like Jack Palance or Chewbacca)
Au contraire mon frere - I was in f'in Korea.
Too bad it all has to end. I was just getting to like you, Bond.
Can it with the fag talk, hombre.
BOND shoots DRYDEN in the left arm, the bullet passing through the glass so that DRYDEN is soaked in green RATHER THAN RED. Too ing cool or what?
Did Greedo shoot first?
Suddenly, DRYDEN pulls out his gun, and fires it at BOND. The click of empty. A different click, this time - take this one from Taste the Blood of Dracula.
Beretta. Nice and light. For a lady's handbag.
I have a man bag.
What is it with those man bags, bro? Me, I just have a money clip, yeah? Is it a European thing? Mother[censored]er - I just don't see why a man would want a bag. Bag, bag, bag, bag, bag. Just like fag, fag, fag, fag, fag.
How exceptionally droll.
"Droll". I just love that; you don't get anyone other than a faggy Brit sayin' things like mother[censored]ing droll, it's one of those things that I sorta notice, yeah, one of those little details, yeah?
How many of those absinthes have you had, Bond?
Too damn few, Magoo. Anyway, who needs the green fairy when I have a big soon-to-be-hugely-f'in-dead fairy right here?
Oh, riotous applause. Anyway, your file shows no new kills since you were thrown out of the section. To become a double-oh again, you need...
CUT TO: Interior, bathroom, day, still black and white. BOND, looking m-f'in sharp, and THE GUY wearing ironic clothing (but without irony) fighting. Still in black and white but each punch that draws blood, the blood is red.
QT commentary: It's like Raging Bull, yeah and I am the new Scorsese but without the substance. Me saying that is like irony, yeah?
There are teeth flying at the screen - film this bit in genuine Andre de Toth 3-D, will look too cool for school, especially when the blood spurts out at the audience, bits of urinal fly out of the screen and BOND, using a sharpened splinter of smashed cubicle door, rips the THE GUY's left arm out of its socket and gushes of gore douse the screen in that old red juice. Before we cut back, we see BOND and THE GUY slippering and slappering around on the tiled floor which is running with type-AB, internal organs and bits of ing toilet.
CUT TO: The bar in Prague. This scene will be directed by Rodriguez and in defeating the audience's expectations, in exactly the same way I would have filmed it so you can't tell.
QT commentary: This is my observation on the rent-a-directors the Bond series has always has when you just don't know who the hell filmed them, y'know?
How did he die?
Like Ed McMahon in a mother'ing blender.
Being British, I have no idea what that cultural reference means.
QT commentary: I wanted that to be a homage to Fleming. I mean, you read the Fleming books now and there are all these references that we - that's me speaking for all of you - don't get, like World War II, London, playing Bridge, and good manners. So I decided to have a reference Fleming wouldn't get and I know for goddamn sure he would have liked it and if he didn't who cares 'cause he's a dead mother, yeah?
Oh sister, it was real bad. Bad bad. I mean, whatever is bad bad, baddest of the bad, the badmost, the badmeister. Bad. Not at all well.
CUT TO: Interior. Bathroom. Day. THE GUY is lying on the floor in a lake of his own viscera and BOND is attacking him with a bust faucet. When this only results in mild bruising, BOND rethinks his strategy and uses THE GUY's own severed arm. Again, despite huge amounts of splatter, the er still won't die - it's like that scene in Torn Curtain for a media-aware and jaded audience - so BOND rips a towel dispenser off the wall and starts hammering away with that.
No matter. The second is...
BOND shoots DRYDEN in the HEAD and the HEAD explodes in fabulous Technicolor. Like Scanners, y'know, just like f'kin Scanners. Cooliscious.
CUT TO: Interior. Bathroom. Day. BOND is walking away from the camera to pick up his gun. He is covered in red. He merely flicks some of the blood away and it all drops off - y'know, so cool, this is James Bond, yeah? Cool.
Suddenly, THE GUY rises from the floor, his head a bloody pulp but raises his gun...
POV shot from the inside of the gunbarrel: BOND turns and fires. The screen fills with blood and we segue into
THE THEME SONG
QT commentary: Which is sung by Gary Glitter because that would be too ironic and I may just in' explode or retreat into licking myself all over because I want to and no-one else will, sob.