Fragment uit een short story, ik zoek de naam van de film die daarrop gebaseerd isquote:“I am not play acting. It is only too true that I love you, mademoiselle; that I wish to make you my lady. And now that I have a fortune, not that—” He broke off suddenly, and his face resembled a withered apple, “What is this, mademoiselle?” he said, in the low, droning tone of a hornet about to sting. “Do you laugh at my love? I warn you, mademoiselle—do not laugh at Jacques Courbé!”
tis Pete Postlethwaite, maar he, waar zijn de mieren om te neuken?quote:Op woensdag 16 januari 2008 20:28 schreef Doff het volgende:
Pete Postlewaite
Brassed Off
The Constant Gardener
Usual Suspects
quote:The bride smiled, and regarded her diminutive husband with an appraising glance. What an atom of a man! And yet life might linger in his bones for a long time to come. M. Jacques Courbé had allowed himself only one glass of wine, and yet he was far gone in intoxication. His tiny face was suffused with blood, and he stared at Simon Lafleur belligerently. Did he suspect the truth?
quote:By now the wedding guests were beginning to show the effects of their potations. This was especially marked in the case of M. Jacques Courbé’s associates in the side-show.
Griffo, the giraffe boy, had closed his large brown eyes, and was swaying his small head languidly above the assembly, while a slightly supercilious expression drew his lips down at the corners. M. Hercule Hippo, swollen out by his libations to even more colossal proportions, was repeating over and over: “I tell you I am not like other men. When I walk, the earth trembles!” Mlle. Lupa, her hairy upper lip lifted above her long white teeth, was gnawing at a bone, growling unintelligible phrases to herself and shooting savage, suspicious glances at her companions. M. Jejongle’s hands had grown unsteady, and as he insisted on juggling the knives and plates of each new course, broken bits of crockery littered the floor. Mme. Samson, uncoiling her necklace of baby boa constrictors, was feeding them lumps of sugar soaked in rum. M. Jacques Courbé had finished his second glass of wine, and was surveying the whispering Simon Lafleur through narrowed eyes.
quote:Op donderdag 17 januari 2008 08:41 schreef cwk het volgende:
Misschien te voor de hand liggend, maar Freaks?
Intre +1quote:Op donderdag 17 januari 2008 15:01 schreef InTrePidIvity het volgende:
Dat is Marc Forster, die aan de slag gaat/is met Bond 22
quote:Op donderdag 17 januari 2008 15:32 schreef InTrePidIvity het volgende:
Had ik jullie mooi
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