Big EyesBlu-ray Disc - 2015
From the critics
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Margaret: ... You are... very talented at being charming. And you are a genius at sales and promotion.
Walter: Hm! It sounds like you've described two different men. Hmm. One a sadistic ogre, and the other one a delightful bon vivant.
Margaret: Well, that's you, Walter. You're Jekyll and Hyde.
Judge: We can stay here until we grow old and die, but it's obvious that this case boils down to your word versus Mrs. Keane's word.
Judge: No, it's not a mistrial! In my opinion, there's only one way to clear this thing up. You're both going to ...
Walter: It's the craziest thing. I started charging for the posters. First a nickel, then a dime...Yes, Maggie! It's cuckoo! But then it got me thinking. Would you rather sell one $500 painting or a million cheaply reproduced posters? See, folks don't care if it's a copy. They just want art that touches them. Then we could sell it anywhere. Everywhere!
Walter: Warhol's like me. That fruit fly stole my act.
Banducci: Walter, we made the front page. People are here because they wanna see the sappy paintings that made grown men fight.
Walter: Oh, honey, I just want to share them (Big Eyes) with the world. Would you rather have your children piled in a closet, or hanging in someone's living room?
Priest: It sounds as if your husband is trying to make the best of an imperfect situation. You were raised Christian, you know what we are taught: The man is head of the household. Perhaps you should...trust his judgment.
The '50s were a grand time,
if you were a man. I'm Dick Nolan. I make things up for a living. I'm a reporter. It's the strangest godd-n story that I ever covered. It started the day that Margaret Ulbrich walked out on her suffocating husband, long before it became the fashionable thing to do.
Ruben: I say no. It's not art (concerning the Big Eye works.)
Walter: It's not art?
Ruben: It's like the back of a magazine. You know, "Draw the turtle!" "Send in a nickel, win the big contest!"
Walter: How dare you! Lots of people will like this.
Ruben: Well, nobody who's walking through the doors of this gallery. Now, please, clear out the clutter before the taste police arrive.
Walter: We'll never break in! There's a secret society of gallery owners and critics who get together for Sunday brunch in Sausalito deciding what's "cool." Like McCarthy, in his hearings: "I anoint that painter. I banish that painter to Nowheresville."
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