Sol Sussman Quotes in Die, Mommie, Die! (2003)

Sol Sussman: [Sol is in his den, on the phone, pleading with a money lender of apparently dubious character. Bootsie, the maid, passes by in an adjoining hallway and begins to eavesdrop the conversation] There were extenuating circumstances... Well, you're not in the movie business so you wouldn't understand. These things were beyond my control... What?

Sol Sussman: -

[Bootsie, still eavesdropping, enters one of the nearby doors to get closer to Sol's den. Sol's agitated phone conversation continues]

Sol Sussman: It's impossible... You gotta' give me... You gotta'... Please! Oh, God...

Sol Sussman: [the sound of the phone receiver slamming down is heard] Oh my God!... Oh my God!... Oh my God!... Oh my God!...

Bootsie Carp: [Alarmed at hearing Sol in obvious distress, Bootsie enters his den] Are you sick, Mr. S? Should I call Dr. Mendell?

Sol Sussman: No, no... Nathan Mendell I don't need.

Bootsie Carp: [Sitting down in front of his desk] Talk to Bootsie. Let her help.

Sol Sussman: -

[Confused and despondent]

Sol Sussman: I... I... I'm out of date. I'm out of touch. My kind of movies' pleas for tolerance of the Jew or the Negro or the immigrant Italian are made a mockery of today. These kids in the beards, they seek to tear down the Establishment. When the fuck did I become the Establishment?

Sol Sussman: [Sympathetically] You're a great man, Mr. S.

Sol Sussman: [Agitated] I'm finished. I'm kaput! Bootsie, the only way I could finance this film was to borrow money from... "less than reputable" associates.

Bootsie Carp: [Slightly shocked] The "Mob"?

Sol Sussman: The gods have turned against me. The rotten weather, an actress dying and... now the film has fallen apart. They're threatening to give me a bath in cement if I don't pay up! Bootsie, you're lookin' at a corpse.

Bootsie Carp: [Solemnly quoting Biblical scripture] "He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty." Proverbs, 16.

Sol Sussman: It's Angela. She's a witch! She put a curse on me! Oh, God! Oh, God! God, God, God, God...

[Sol breaks down, sobbing and wailing. Bootsie goes over to console him in her arms]

Sol Sussman: [At the dinner table: Lance is toying with his soup, blowing on spoonfuls of it, but not actually eating it. Sol looks on, increasingly annoyed] Lance, just DRINK the goddamned soup!

Lance Sussman: Sorry, daddy.

Angela Arden: [Addressing Lance in a "secret language," apparently understood only by she and Lance. Subtitles provide the translation] I don't blame you. The soup stinks.

Lance Sussman: [Replying in the same "secret language"] It smell like dirty socks.

Angela Arden: [Again using the "secret language"] Bootsie cuts your dad's socks up and throws them in the soup.

Sol Sussman: [Angela and Lance chuckle over their secret joking. Sol, enraged, gets up and lunges at Lance] God DAMMIT! You eat normal, or we're gonna' shut you away in an institution!

Lance Sussman: No, daddy, don't...

Angela Arden: How dare you speak to your son like that!

Sol Sussman: I'm ashamed to have such a son.

Angela Arden: [Contemptuously] The "great man"! The "conscience" of the Industry! How about a little sympathy and tolerance for your own family?

Sol Sussman: I have NO sympathy for you, baby. And none for him, either.

[Sol glares pointedly at Lance]

Sol Sussman: My son, the Loser!

Lance Sussman: YOU'RE the Loser! The FLOP!

Angela Arden: [Enraged, Sol slaps Lance across the face and Lance gets up and runs out of the room. Angela gets up and looks after Lance in dismay] Lance...

Sol Sussman: [All the commotion has upset the family's twin Pekinese dogs, whose noisy barking can be heard in the background. This enrages Sol even more] Monsters! They get put to sleep tomorrow! Sit down, Angela... SIT DOWN!

Angela Arden: [In the car with Sol, coming back from the theater where they have just seen the Greek tragedy "The House of Atreus," in which Queen Clytemnestra stabs Agamemnon to death] Well, I thought the murder scene was beautifully staged. The character of Queen Clytemnestra was almost... sympathetic. Aren't you glad I made you renew our theater subscriptions?

Sol Sussman: [Annoyed] Oh, Angela, shut up. The best performance tonight was you pretending to be a wife!

Edith Sussman: You seem so sad and tired since you got back from Spain. What's wrong, daddy? You can tell me. We're soul mates.

Sol Sussman: Well, then I'll confide in you. It's just this God-awful constipation. Before I go to sleep I'm supposed to take a suppository. Well, nobody ever said it was gonna' be easy being an old Jew.

Sol Sussman: Never forget that you're half Sussman. And the other half, that strange, Canadian goyish of flotsam... that, you can dismiss.

Edith Sussman: It's your blood that I'm proud of.

Sol Sussman: You are my daughter, my immortality. What is our motto?

Edith Sussman: Make it big... give it Class... and leave 'em with a message!

Sol Sussman: Yeah!

Angela Arden: [Inserting, with apparent difficulty, a large suppository in Sol] You're very tight. You must do your utmost to relax.

Sol Sussman: Relax? How can I relax with a nuclear warhead up my rectum?