A Clockwork Orange

A Clockwork Orange

A Clockwork Orange may refer to: A Clockwork Orange (novel), a 1962 novel by Anthony Burgess A Clockwork Orange (film), a 1971 film directed by Stanley Kubrick based on the novel A Clockwork Orange (soundtrack), the film's official soundtrack A Clockwork Orange: Wendy Carlos's Complete Original Score, a 1972 album by Wendy Carlos featuring music composed for the film A Clockwork Orange: A Play with Music, a 1987 theatrical adaptation by Anthony Burgess Clockwork Orange (plot), a supposed 1970s operation to discredit British politicians "Clockwork Orange", a nickname for the Glasgow Subway in Glasgow, Scotland "Clockwork Orange", a nickname for the Dutch national football team in the early 1970s

Genre: Crime, Drama, Sci-Fi
Production: Warner Bros.
  Nominated for 4 Oscars. Another 9 wins & 19 nominations.
 
IMDB:
8.3
Metacritic:
78
Rotten Tomatoes:
89%
R
Year:
1971
136
3,410 Views

Alex:
Hi, hi, hi, Mr. Deltoid. Funny surprise, seeing you here.

P.R. Deltoid:
Ah, Alex boy! Awake at last, yes? I met your mother on the way to work, yes? She gave me the key. She said something about a pain somewhere, hence not at school, yes?

Alex:
A rather intolerable pain in the head, brother sir. I think it should be clear by this after lunch.

P.R. Deltoid:
Mmm. Or certainly by this evening, yes? The evening's the great time, isn't it, Alex boy? Hmm?

Alex:
Cup of the old chai, sir?

P.R. Deltoid:
No time, no time, yes. Sit, sit, sit!

Alex:
To what do I owe this extreme pleasure, sir? Anything wrong, sir?

P.R. Deltoid:
Wrong? Why should you think of anything being wrong? Have you been doing something you shouldn't, yes?

Alex:
Just a manner of speech, sir.

P.R. Deltoid:
Yes. Well, it's just a manner of speech from your post-corrective advisor to you that you watch out, little Alex, because next time, it's not going to be the corrective school anymore. Next time, it's going to be the barley place and all my work ruined. If you've no respect for your horrible self, you at least might have some for me, who've sweated over you. A big black mark, I tell you, for every one we don't reclaim. A confession of failure for every one of you who ends up in the stripy hole.

Alex:
I've been doing nothing I shouldn't, sir. The Millicents have nothing on me, brother. Sir, I mean.

P.R. Deltoid:
Cut out this clever talk about Millicents. Just because the police haven't picked you up lately doesn't, as you very well know, mean that you've not been up to some nastiness. That was a bit of a nastiness last night, yes? Some very extreme nastiness, yes? A few of a certain Billy Boy's friends were ambulanced off late, yes. Your name was mentioned. The words got through to me by the usual channels. Certain friends of yours were named also. Oh, nobody can prove anything about anybody, as usual. But I'm warning you, little Alex, being a good friend to you, as always, the one man in this sore and sick community who wants to save you from yourself!

[pause]

P.R. Deltoid:
What gets into all? We studied the problem. We've been studying it for damn well near a century, yes, but we get no further with our studies. You got a good home here. Good, loving parents. You've got not too bad of a brain. Is it some devil that crawls inside of you?

Alex:
Nobody's got anything on me, brother sir. I've been out of the rookers of the Millicents for a long time now.

P.R. Deltoid:
That's just what worries me. A bit too long to be safe. You're about due now, by my reckoning. That's why I'm warning you, little Alex, to keep your handsome young proboscis out of the dirt. Do I make myself clear?

Alex:
As an unmuddied lake, sir. As clear as an azure sky of deepest summer. You can rely on me, sir.

Frank Alexander:
[hears knocking on the door] Who on Earth could that be?

Julian:
I'll see who it is. [goes to the front door] Yes, what is it?

Alex:
[barely audible] Help... please... help... help.

Julian:
[opens the door and Alex collapses at the doorway. He carries Alex into the house] Frank, I think this young man needs some help.

Frank Alexander:
[surprised by Alex's poor condition] My God! What happened to you, my boy?

Alex:
[voice-over] And would you believe it, o my brothers and only friends. There was your faithful narrator being held helpless, like a babe in arms, and suddenly realizing where he was and why home on the gate had looked so familiar, but I knew I was safe. For in those care-free days, I and my so-called droogies wore our maskies, which were like real horror-show disguises.

Alex:
[nervous] Police... ghastly horrible police... they beat me up, sir. [sees Frank has a foul look on his face, apparently not believing him] The police beat me up, sir.

Frank Alexander:
[excited] I know you! [pauses] Isn't it your picture in the newspapers? Didn't I see you on the video this morning? Are you not the poor victim of this horrible new technique?

Alex:
[relieved] Yes, sir! That's exactly who I am and what I am, sir. A victim, sir!

Frank Alexander:
Then, by God, you've been sent here by providence! Tortured in prison, then thrown out to be tortured by the police. My heart goes out to you, poor, poor boy. Oh, you are not the first to come here in distress. The police are fond of bringing their victims to the outskirts of this village. But it is providential that you, who are also another kind of victim should come here.

Frank Alexander:
[finally remembering Alex's state] Oh, but you're cold and shivering. Julian, draw a bath for this young man.

Julian:
Certainly, Frank.

Alex:
[as he is being carried off by Julian] Thank you very much, sir. God bless you, sir.

Female Psychaitrist:
Now then. Each of the slides needs a reply from one of the people in the picture. You tell me what you think the person would say. Alright?

Alex:
Righty right.

Female Psychaitrist:
[Changes to a slide with two people looking at a peacock] "Isn't the plumage beautiful?"

Alex:
I just say what the other person would say?

Female Psychaitrist:
Yes.

Alex:
Isn't the plumage beautiful...

Female Psychaitrist:
Oh yes well don't think about it too long, just say the first thing that pops into your mind.

Alex:
Cabbages, knickers, uh, it's not got a... A BEAK! [laughs]

Female Psychaitrist:
Good. [Changes to a slide with a women and two boys] "The boy you always quarrelled with is seriously ill."

Alex:
My mind is a blank. Uh, and I'll smash your face for you, yarblockos! [laughs]

Female Psychaitrist:
Good. [Changes slide to a man climbing into a naked woman's bedroom] "What do you want?"

Alex:
Uh, no time for the ol' in-out, love. I've just come to read the meter!

Female Psychaitrist:
Good. [Changes slide to a man in a clock store] "You sold me a crummy watch, I want my money back."

Alex:
You know what you can do with that watch? Stick it up your ass! [laughs]

Female Psychaitrist:
Good. [Changes slide to woman handing bird eggs to a man] "You can do whatever you like with these."

Alex:
Eggiweggs. I would like... to smash them. And pick 'em all up, and THROW- [moves injured arm] OW! F***ing hell!

Female Psychaitrist:
Well there, that's all there is to it. Are you alright?

Alex:
Hope so. Is that the end then?

Female Psychaitrist:
Yes.

Alex:
I was quite enjoying that.

Female Psychaitrist:
Good, I'm glad!

Alex:
How many did I get right?

Female Psychaitrist:
It's not that kind of a test, but you seem well on the way to making a complete recovery!


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