A Michael Mann moment

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Hey, you know when yr looking out the venetian blinds on yer beach house while the moonlight shines on yr face? or when Crockett's driving alone on the speedboat on his own? I say "nightshift" by the Commodores or "Boys of summer" by Don Henley.......What say u, bitch?

Michael Bourke, Saturday, 25 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

'To Live and Die in LA' by Wang Chung heh.

I can never hear Iron Butterfly w/out thinking of the end of 'Manhunter'.

Andrew L, Saturday, 25 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

not sure about the tune, but i'm bettin i'd be bathed in a deep aquamarine blue light.

piscesboy, Saturday, 25 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

I'm wearing an expensive suit but I have no tie on, my brow is furrowed, the weight of my past and my imminent inescapable future is etched onto my forehead, I feel I am on the verge of an existential epiphany as I am bathed in said aquamarine blue light slanting through the venetia blinds of my expansive and expensive but unfurnished beach-front property. And I am listening to Simply Red.

Nick Southall, Saturday, 25 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

I am a former NFL superstar who suffered a career-ending injury in during my fourth season. Thanks to unemployment (the color commentating job for the CFL did not pan out), deep depression, and my egomaniacal nature, I have lost all my friends and my supermodel wife. I have turned to hookers, drugs, and gambling. I love the property I own in Miami -- the large garage, the adjacent beach house, the pool with three slides. However, thanks to my gambling and my vices, I have become very paranoid and very in debt and very gaunt. I have sold nearly all the belongings in my house, save for a mattress, a state-of-the-art stereo system, a fridge, and -- at last count -- 40 spoons. I am indebted to several people who have made threats on my life. I had enough money to drain my back account for iron bars over my doors and windows, but I fear tonight that those I am in trouble with will attempt to do bodily harm to me. I am looking out the window of my beach house and onto my drained pool. My 6'4, 100 lb. body is adorned only with a pair of sagging silk boxers, which were given to me by my wife on our first wedding anniversary. I am holding a revolver in my shaking, sweating right hand. (I am left- handed but I took up jai-alai in the off-seasons and screwed up my elbow.) "This Is What You Want This Is What You Get" by PiL is playing in the background. Either that or "Hard Habit to Break" by Chicago.

Andy K, Saturday, 25 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

Andy that was completely great. Free beer from me next time I'm anywhere near you.

John Darnielle, Saturday, 25 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

Doesn't Andy K's story perfectly describe what Philip Michael Thomas is doing right NOW
Except in his case it was his wretched musical career instead of color commentary.

Lord Custos 2.0 beta, Saturday, 25 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

I bow in Andy's direction. I have to, to not do so would be a crime.

Mr. Thomas was last seen in a glaringly obvious guest spot on Nash Bridges, I seem to recall -- Tommy Chong was in it as well, so that Cheech Marin could get in on some of that reunion action.

Ned Raggett, Saturday, 25 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

I musta missed that episode (just like I deliberately missed every otehr episode.) So did PMT look all emaciated and paranoid the way Andy K described?

Lord Custos 2.0 beta, Saturday, 25 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

Subthread: Taking Sides...Don Henley vs Don Johnson!

Lord Custos 2.0 beta, Saturday, 25 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

...and so my paranoia does not betray me. Three angry men (they are my bookie, my dealer, and my dealer's bodyguard -- played by Sean Penn, Michael Penn, and Chris Penn) cut through the chainlink fence that separates my property from Pat Boone's. They proceed to hop over the fence and approach the beach house. They know I'm inside. Payback time. Just as I ready my weapon, I realize that my former running back coach, Reggie (Don Cheadle), is trying to pay me a visit. He is the only one who has had faith in me throughout it all! Oblivious to the other people attempting to pay me a visit, Reggie breaks down the door and exclaims that he had a vision of me spread eagle on the beach house floor from an overdose. Just as he notices my gun and my crazed state, my drug dealer's bodyguard pops through the window and fires his AK-47. Reggie takes a misfire from the bodyguard in the chest and I scream, "Noooooo!!! Reggie!!!!" I begin to seethe in anger. I catch the bodyguard off guard and subdue him by shooting a bullet from my revolver into his rotund belly. My bookie and dealer are just behind him and thankfully -- thank god! -- they have no ammunition in their weapons. (They had left that task up to the bodyguard, who was too sidetracked by his steak dinner to remember to load the weapons before they departed for the beach house.) The dealer is easy to take care of because he's a wimp. He takes one in the forehead. The bookie is a bit feisty -- we engage in some hand-to- hand combat before I bite his ear off and re-grab my weapon to feed him a bullet. Just as the bodyguard is able to muster the strength to come at me, I simply feed him another bullet between the eyes. I realize there are four dead bodies around me. I take all the money I can, including the photos of Reggie's family as a reminder of our strong friendship. I am particularly depressed because he had just been hired to coach the Boston Breakers in the USFL. I take the keys to my dealer's boat, run down to the marina, and start 'er up. I zoom away as far as I can and eventually drop anchor in the middle of nowhere. I catch my breath and reflect on what has just happened. I decide to turn the tape deck on in order to block out the noises in my head. In the tape deck is the soundtrack to Vision Quest. I hate the fucking Style Council but my dislike of Paul Weller does the trick alright -- the noises from my head are eradicated. And then I discover a sizeable mound of coke on one of the tables. Like a mad lunatic, I race over to the table and snort all that I possibly can. By the time the auto-flip deck has turned to side two, I am in another world. I am dead by the time Red Rider's "Lunatic Fringe" finishes.

I was portrayed by Jared Leto.

Andy K, Saturday, 25 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

Andy K == God

Lord Custos 2.0 beta, Sunday, 26 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

you're Bret Easton Ellis's next novel. What do I win?

Ally, Monday, 27 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

Andy sez more in two paragraphs than Ellis can in seven hundred pages, methinks.

Ned Raggett, Tuesday, 28 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

He forgot to reference Elvis Costello.

J Blount, Tuesday, 28 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

You say this like it's a bad thing.

Ned Raggett, Tuesday, 28 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

Everytime I somehow have a conversation with my dad about music he'll always matter-of-factly mention the Doobie Brothers in the same breath as the Stones, Beatles, etc. I always think of this when Ellis slips one of his increasingly gauche Elvis Costello references into one of his books (topped only in horror by Douglas Coupland's Girlfriend in a Coma). So, no, it's not a bad thing.

J Blount, Tuesday, 28 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

"Lucky Seven"- Chris Squire

Joe, Tuesday, 28 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

Addressing the original question: "Porcelain" by Moby in a fiveway tie w/ "In the Air Tonight" by Phil Collins, "Chromium Bitch" by Gary Wilson, "Weak Become Heroes" by the Streets, and "At this Moment" by Billy Vera.

J Blount, Tuesday, 28 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

Ally has won an autographed set of Penn brothers photos.

Don Johnson > Don Henley

Andy K, Tuesday, 28 May 2002 00:00 (sixteen years ago) Permalink

one year passes...
You're looking through the tiny ground-level window of the basement you're hiding in, and you see a car pull in the drive. It's a long low sedan, some kind of Lexus, and the slate-grey sky throws reflections off the glass. Its glides quietly in with a low purr and a soft crunch of gravel. The bumper is inches from your nose. Car doors open. Car doors shut.

Tracer Hand (tracerhand), Monday, 10 May 2004 20:03 (fourteen years ago) Permalink

listening to Donnacha Costello's "Dry Retch" gave me the Michael Mann feeling today. Still waiting for the goons to show up, though.

Aaron A., Monday, 10 May 2004 20:25 (fourteen years ago) Permalink

(this thread is way too good to be confined to ILM, people!)

Aaron A., Monday, 10 May 2004 20:27 (fourteen years ago) Permalink

Alright so I'm standing with my back to the pitch black ocean. I wear a dark, pinstriped suit -- expensive but conservative. Armani. If my eyes weren't laser-fixed on absolutely nothing 20 feet in front of me, I could watch as my girlfriend scurries around my beach home's master bedroom, packing up her things. She'll be back.

Even though I'm dark-haired, the intense moonlight makes me look like I'm wearing some sort of optical white fright wig. A passage from the middle of Les Thugs' "New Day" plays as earsplitting volume.

Aaron A., Monday, 10 May 2004 20:50 (fourteen years ago) Permalink

That would be better than Brian Eno at least.

Tracer Hand (tracerhand), Monday, 10 May 2004 21:01 (fourteen years ago) Permalink

two years pass...
"Ay, Sonny, que pasa?"


Tracey Hand (tracerhand), Wednesday, 5 July 2006 13:57 (twelve years ago) Permalink

"they haven't invented the distance i won't go to take this sucker down"

Roughage Crew (Enrique), Wednesday, 5 July 2006 14:00 (twelve years ago) Permalink

Andy K's posts on this thread continue to be among the best things I've ever read here.

Tracey Hand (tracerhand), Wednesday, 5 July 2006 14:07 (twelve years ago) Permalink

rolling up to downtown L.A. in a sleek black sedan, toothpick in mouth, eyes focused unblinkingly on the road ahead, black suit and black shirt on, tangerine dream or perhaps a more propulsive eno track simmering on the stereo. the lights occasionally catch my face, illuminating my single-mindedness: i'm going to get some key info that will allow me to take this fucker down, fucker in question being one javier chavez. he killed my partner. and brother, now i'm going to bring him down.

i'm going 75 per past the skyscrapers. a tough guy in a beat-up ford goes past me, weaving in and out of traffic. i smile to myself. man, driving a car like that in that manner is like a fat girl in a tight dress: you ain't foolin' nobody.

i glide up to the nightclub and park it in front of the valet. i toss him a couple of twenties. 'watch it but don't don't it,' i hiss. 'i'll be back in two minutes, if that'.

the doorman waves me past the line. i get some dirty looks, i shoot them right back. i enter the club. a mmoody techno track throbs. in the corner, sitting up slightly higher than everyone else, light shining down on his bald dome, is hector vazquez. he sees me staring at him. he knows he's made. he bolts. i pursue. he gets about ten feet from the door when i trip him up. 'heeeeyyy man, i was just goin to take a leak', he sputters. fucking liar, always was.

'you and me gonna have a sitdown, hector my man. now buy me a fuckin' drink.'

gear (gear), Wednesday, 5 July 2006 16:17 (twelve years ago) Permalink

six years pass...

Celebrating the 10-year (or 10.5, whatever) anniversary of Andy K's incredible posts upthread...

A Michael Mann moment
A Michael Mann moment

ernestp, Monday, 12 November 2012 16:36 (six years ago) Permalink

mark leyner weeps in abject defeat

Brakhage, Tuesday, 13 November 2012 00:00 (six years ago) Permalink

Ha. Revived a couple days after a USFL YouTube binge.

Andy K, Tuesday, 13 November 2012 20:11 (six years ago) Permalink

seven months pass...

flying down the 101 at night at a nice clip coupled with the opening 30 secs of "stay away" by charli xcx = instant michael mann moment

christmas candy bar (al leong), Sunday, 23 June 2013 21:49 (five years ago) Permalink

eight months pass...


"IGOT the key. I...got...thekey."

Andy K, Friday, 21 March 2014 00:48 (four years ago) Permalink

two years pass...

It’s one year in his life, 1957. That’s the year that, fortuitously, the parts of his life that I most care about in making a human story, all collide. It’s an opera, it’s a family drama, a tragedy, filled with wry humor. It’s a racing film, but it’s not a movie about car racing. It’s a movie about this guy’s life and his passion. He started as a race car driver and then became a racing team manager for Alfa Romeo. His passion was to make the racing team win, so he’s kind of an impresario, conductor or film director, of a race team. He’s an instigator of men, many of whom tragically die young. He’s very close to death and death is very close to him. His father died young, his brother died young. In the year of 1957, of the seven Ferrari drivers, only two were left alive at the end. He is passionate, plenty of libido. There’s part of him that’s like a metronome. As an engineer, he’s precise, like a master draftsman. At the same time, he has passion. There are other women in his life. Sex, food, death. There is a contradiction between chaos on one hand and the precision with which you determine the diameter of an exhaust valve, on the other. Someone in London who really knew the heart of this, who’s Italian, said it sounds like what you’re doing is making something so intensely local that it’s universal. And that’s it. The film is about life, danger, passion, racing with volcanic temperament throughout.


... (Eazy), Thursday, 28 April 2016 21:27 (two years ago) Permalink

two years pass...

anybody want a.. bump

illegal economic migration (Tracer Hand), Sunday, 8 July 2018 18:57 (seven months ago) Permalink

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