Joe VS. The Volcano
The fact that Joe vs the Volcano stars Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks does not mean it's typical chick-flick fare. It is a surreal parable about meaning in life. (And the soundtrack is incredible.) I first started watching it regularly when I was a teen, and consider it by far one of my favorite films. I cannot recommend it enough.
Joe vs. the Volcano, on job satisfaction:
FRANK: (Joe's boss, yelling into the phone) No! No.
(Joe, having been diagnosed with a terminal disease, enters the office of Frank, Didi, and a sallow, shrunken co-worker in a stupor. Frank looks at his watch.)
FRANK: You were wrong. He was wrong! Who said that? I didn't say that.
(Joe tries to hang his hat on the broken hatstand.)
FRANK: If I said that, I would have been wrong. I would have been wrong, isn't that right, Harry?
(Joe throws his hat in the trash can. His sallow, shriveled co-worker raises himself from a stupor to look. Joe pulls the paper out of Didi's typewriter.)
FRANK: I'm not arguing that with you.
(Joe starts to pssst and flick Didi's paper at the sallow, shriveled co-worker to further rouse him.)
FRANK: I'm not arguing that with you! I am not arguing that with you!
(Joe crumples the sheet and throws the wad into the trash can, causing sallow guy to flinch.)
FRANK: Listen, let me call you back, I got somethin' here, OK? Don't say anything until we finish our conversation, all right?
(Joe wrestles with the prosthetic arm.)
FRANK: Joe.
JOE: Yeah.
FRANK: You were at lunch 3 hours.
(Joe wins the arm-wrestling match.)
JOE: Yeah.
(Joe starts slapping Frank's desk with the prosthetic arm.)
JOE: (mugging a dopey voice) Huh, where's my friend? Where is my friend?
JOE: (brushes the prosthetic fingers over the name plate) Hmm. Mr... Waturi... Mr... Waturi.
(Joe pats Frank on the head with the prosthetic arm, drops the arm, runs back into the storage room which is his office)
FRANK: (grabbing the arm) This is company property, mister.
FRANK: (runs after Joe, brandishes the arm at him) Joe, don't touch that! What are you doing?
JOE: I'm opening, or closing, the main drain.
FRANK: (cowering in the corner) You shouldn't be touching that, Joe.
JOE: Nothing happened. You know how long I've been wondering what would happen if I did that?
FRANK: What's the matter with you?
JOE: Brain cloud.
FRANK: What?
JOE: Oh, never mind. Listen, Mr. Waturi... Frank... I quit.
FRANK: You mean today?
JOE: That's right.
FRANK: That's great. Don't come lookin' for a reference from me!
JOE: (Cleaning out books from his desk.) OK. I won't. Look, Robinson Crusoe.
FRANK: You blew this job.
JOE: Romeo and Juliet. Ooh... the Oddysey.
FRANK: You blew this job!
JOE: Ukelele. I've been working here four and a half years. (Walks out of the storage room, holding out his tropical lamp as a ward against Frank) Work that I probably could have done in five or six months. That leaves four years left over... Four years. If I had them now!
JOE: (intensely, to Didi) ... like gold in my hand...(Puts lamp on Didi's desk) Here. This is for you. Goodbye, Didi.
DIDI: You're going?
FRANK: If you're leaving, leave. You'll get your check. (As Joe moves to leave) And I promise you, you'll be easy to replace.
JOE: I should say something.
FRANK: What are you muttering?
JOE: (turns back toward the office) This, life... "life", what a joke... this, situation, this room...
FRANK: Uh, Joe, maybe you should just go.
JOE: You look terrible, Mr. Waturi. You look like a bag of shit stuffed in a cheap suit. Not that anybody could look good under these zombie lights. I, I, I can feel them, sucking the juice out of my eyeballs, SUCK, SUCK, SUCK, SUCK, SUCK! (stands on tiptoes and makes horrible sucking sound) Three hundred bucks a week, that's the news, for three hundred bucks a week I lived in this sink, this used rubber...
FRANK: (brandishing the prosthetic arm) You watch it, mister, there's a woman here!
JOE: Don't you think I know that Frank-- don't you think I'm aware that there is a woman here, I can smell her... like, like a flower, I can taste her like sugar on my tongue. (Mimi is delighted) When I'm twenty feet away, I can hear the fabric of her dress when she moves, in her chair. Not that I've done anything about it, I've gone all day, every day, not doing, not saying, not taking the CHANCE, for THREE, HUNDRED, DOLLARS a WEEK. And Frank! The coffee! It stinks! (sallow guy nods in agreement) It tastes like arsenic, these lights give me a headache, if they don't give you a headache you must be dead, so let's arrange the funeral!
FRANK: You better get out of here. I'm telling you.
JOE: You're not telling me nothin'.
FRANK: I'm TELLING YOU!
JOE: Why, I ask myself, why have I put up with you, I can't imagine. (puts his arm around Frank's shoulders) But I know, it's fear, yellow freakin' fear, I've been too chickenshit afraid to live my life so I sold it to you, for (shakes Frank's lapels) THREE HUNDRED FREAKIN' DOLLARS A WEEK. YOU'RE LUCKY I DON'T KILL YOU. YOU'RE LUCKY I DON'T RIP YOUR FREAKIN' THROAT OUT. But I'm NOT GOING TO. And maybe you're not so lucky at that, 'cause I'm gonna leave you here, Mr. Wahoo Waturi. And what could be worse than that?
(Joe exits. Re-enters.)
JOE: Didi.
DIDI: Yeah.
JOE: How about dinner tonight?
DIDI: Yeah OK.
(Joe exits.)
DIDI: Wow! What a change!
Joe vs. the Volcano, on clients:
So where would you like to go?
Excuse me?
Where would you like to go, sir?
Uh, I thought I would do some shopping today.
All right. Where would you like to go shopping?
(Pause) I don't know.
All right.
Well, where would you go shopping?
What for? What do you need?
Clothes.
What kind of clothes? What's your tastes?
Well... I... I don't exactly know. Why are you stopping the car?
They just hired me to drive the car, sir. I'm not here to tell you who you are.
I didn't ask you to tell me who I am.
You're hinting around about clothes. That happens to be a very important topic to me, sir, clothes, Mr...
Banks.
Banks. Clothes makes the man, I believe that. You say to me you want to go shopping. You want to buy clothes, but you don't know what kind. You leave that hanging in the air, like I'm going to fill in the blanks. Now that to me is like asking me who you are, and I don't know who you are. I don't want to know. It's taken me all my life to find out who I am and I am tired, now, you hear what I'm saying?
Mphsh, mmmssh, ff.
What's your name?
Joe.
Mine's Marshall. How you do? Wait a minute. I'm coming back.
OK.
Now, what's your situation? Explain your situation to me.
I'm going away on a long trip.
All right.
And I have the opportunity to buy some clothes today.
Yeah.
Money's no object.
Good.
Where you going?
Well, tonight, I'm going out in the city.
Nice places?
I hope so. And then tomorrow I'm flying to L.A.
First class?
Yeah.
Good.
Then I'm getting on a yacht and sailing to the South Pacific.
Hawaii?
No, this really unknown little island.
No tourists.
I don't think so.
Good.
Then I'm staying on the island for a couple of weeks, and that's it.
And what kind of clothes do you got now?
Well, I've got what I'm wearing.
So you got no clothes.
It has also occurred to me that this film's influence might explain why I carry luggage with me everywhere I go.
Comments
jodybrai on Mar. 22, 2010 11:50 PM
Matt: I hereby invite you over to watch "Joe Vs. the Volcano" (which neither I nor my lovely wife have ever seen), discuss the philosophy contained therein, and play a game which you will be taught if you don't already know, namely "Magic: the Gathering".
Date and time to be negotiated separately, should you choose to accept this invitation.
matt-arnold on Mar. 23, 2010 3:18 AM
Excellent. I will bring my copy of JVTV.
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