Intolerable Cruelty

Synopsis: Miles Massey, a prominent Los Angeles divorce attorney has everything--and in some cases, two of everything. Despite his impressive client list, a formidable win record, the respect of his peers and an ironclad contract (the Massey pre-nup) named after him, he's reached a crossroads in his life. Sated on success, boredom has set in and he's looking for new challenges. All that changes when Miles meets his match in the devastating Marylin Rexroth. Marylin is the soon-to-be ex-wife of his client Rex Rexroth, a wealthy real estate developer and habitual philanderer. With the help of hard charging private investigator Gus Petch, she has Rex nailed and is looking forward to the financial independence a successful divorce will bring. But thanks to Miles' considerable skills, she ends up with nothing. Not to be outdone, Marylin schemes to get even and as part of her plan, quickly marries oil tycoon Howard Doyle. Miles and his unflappable associate, Wrigley, unwittingly dig themselves in deepe
Genre: Comedy, Crime, Romance
Director(s): Joel Coen, Ethan Coen
Production: Universal Pictures
  3 nominations.
 
IMDB:
6.3
Metacritic:
71
Rotten Tomatoes:
75%
PG-13
Year:
2003
100 min
$35,096,190
Website
968 Views


# I am just a poor boy #

# Though my story's seldom told #

# I have squandered my resistance #

# For a pocketful of mumbles #

# Such are promises #

# All lies and jest #

# Still, a man hears

what he wants to hear #

# Just a come-on from those gals #

#Just a come-on from the whores #

# On Seventh Avenue #

Whoo-whoo!

# I do declare #

# There were times

when I was so lonesome #

# That I took

some comfort there #

# La-la-la, la-la-la-la ##

Bonnie?

Who is it?

Donovan?

Bonnie?

Yes?

Donovan?

In here.!

Yes? Donovan.

Is everything all right?

Yeah. The production meeting

was put off, so I thought... Who's here?

Here?

Mm.

Who owns that piece-of-sh*t van

down there?

Oh...

It's just a guy, you know, going door-to-door

selling... pool cleaner.

So why did he lock himself in the den?

Well, he...

Oh, God.

- Remember my friend Ollie?

- Ollie Olerud?

Short, cretinous wanker?

Ohh. Ollie's in there?

- Yes.

- I see.

Well, I'm glad he finally

got himself a job.

I'd always picked him as some sort of

deadbeat, but... happy to be proved wrong.

So, he's selling

pool cleaner now, huh?

Well, this is the neighborhood for that. Just

door-to-door..."Running low on chlorine?"

It's quite a coincidence,

him just dropping by...

and you two

knowing each other so well.

Donovan, please, let's just all talk...

How you doin'?

Donovan? How you doin', man?

Good day, Ollie.

I'm great. You?

I... can't complain, man.

Excellent.

Well, let's get right down

to it then, shall we?

We'll take a couple vacuum hoses.

We probably need a new filter right about now, maybe...

Wait a minute, darling.

Do we actually have a swimming pool?

Okay, okay, man. Now, let's be

reasonable about this, okay?

So, you caught me porkin'...

havin'relations

with your old lady...

Oh, God.

and now we're all feelin' just a little bit

embarrassed by the whole thing, so, uh...

What the hey, man.

I mean, I know it's a drag and all,

but these things...

Hey! Hey, hey.

Uh, w-we... we...

we didn't actually have sex.

I was depressed 'cause

I'm impotent. You know?

Unable to achieve an erection.

I have been for over

a year now, man,

and I needed someone to talk to.

I mean, think about it, man.

A year without an erection?

Leave him alone!

- You should've seen this coming, you Australian piece of sh*t!

- You b*tch.!

That's my Daytime Television

Lifetime Achievement Award!

Cheesy bastard!

Aaah!

You whore.!

Oh, Christ!

Okay.

All right, you want fun and games?

All right.

I'll give you fun and games.

Explain this away.

# Li-la-li #

Aaah! Ollie!

# Li-la-li-li, li-la-li #

That's my Jag.! That's my Jag.!

# Li-la-li #

# Li-la-li-li, li-la-li #

That's my bloody Jag!

# Li-la-li-li-li #

You b*tch!

B*tch! B*tch!

Bye-bye, baby!

Oh, what are you looking at?

Explain this away, darling.

# We're caught in a trap #

# I can't walk out #

# Because I love you

too much, baby #

# Why can't you see #

# What you're doin'to me #

# When you don't believe #

# A word I say #

# We can't go on together #

# With suspicious minds #

#Suspicious minds #

#And we can't build our dreams #

# On suspicious minds #

#So if an old friend I know #

#Drops by to say hello #

# Would I still see suspicion #

#In your eyes #

#But here we go again #

#Askin' where I been #

# You can't see the tears are real #

#I'm cryin'#

# Yes, I'm cryin'#

# We can't go on together #

# With suspicious minds #

# Suspicious minds #

# And we can't build our dreams #

# On suspicious minds #

# Oh, let our love survive #

# I'll dry the tears from your eyes #

# Let's don't let a good thing die #

# When, honey, you know #

# I have never #

# Lied to you #

# Mm-mmm #

# Yeah, yeah #

# We're caught in a trap #

# I can't walk out #

# Oooh #

#Because I love you #

# Too much, baby # #

Miles Massey's office.

Hey, it's me. Any messages?

Yeah, quite a few. Where are you?

Just whitening.

Jim says he wants a meeting today, if possible.

Mm-hmm. What else?

Chapman says his wife

is now in Tahoe.

Tell Amstedler

I'll return in 20 minutes,

get Wrigley to look up Oliphant v. Oliphant,

Common wealth of Virginia...

for its relevance

in the Chapman filing...

Oliphant v. Oliphant, relevance to Chapman...

She said she took the kids to Tahoe?

That's right.

Wait, which side of Tahoe?

She's on some kind of cruise.

Yeah, well, if the cruise goes all the way around

the lake, she's left the state and she's in breach.

Tell Wrigley to prepare a filing to attach.

A filing to attach.

What do you want in it?

Everything.

Primary residence, beach house, ski cabin,

auto, stocks, bonds, dental floss.

Everything.

Uh-huh. Gonna lose ya.

Uh-huh.

And tell Fred Armatrading that we finally

have pictures of his wife with the oral surgeon.

Oh, and get a fruit and pastry basket in the conference

room for my 9:
30. Didn't have time for breakfast.

Where are you?

Comin' at ya.

Your 9:
00 is here.

Bonnie Donaly.

Bonnie Donaly.

Mrs. Donaly.

Hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Hmm.

Yes, your husband did show remarkable

foresight in taking those pictures,

and, yes,

absent a swimming pool,

the presence of a pool man

would appear to be suspicious.

But, madam,

who is the real victim here?

Let me suggest to you

the following.

Your husband, on a prior occasion,

had slapped you... beat you.

I think that word is not inappropriate.

No, I...

Let me finish, please.

I'm not concerned

with who slapped whom first.

Your husband, who had beaten you repeatedly...

No, he never...

Please... repeatedly, was at the time

brandishing your firearm.

- It was his gun.

- And we'll get it back for you.

Trying, in his rage,

to shoot an acquaintance,

a friend of long standing.

They never really cared

for each other.

And if not for your

cool-headed intervention,

his tantrum might have ended this

schmo's life and ruined his own.

As for the sexual indiscretion

which he imagined took place,

wasn't it in fact he...

who was sleeping with the pool man?

No?

Am I going too far here?

Were his sexual... No.

I don't...

Sorry. I'm not omniscient.

The point is that he acted upon an

assumption which he cannot prove,

and I take it you deny.

- Well...

- Fine. I'll take the case.

It's imperative that I meet with Oliver Olerud

before we proceed any further...

so that I can massage the kinks

out of our testimony.

Do you really think

we can put all this across?

The truth is so self-evident

to me, Mrs. Donaly,

that I'm sure I'll be able to make it

equally as transparent to anyjury,

should your husband

decide to take it that far.

We'll need to caucus again to draw up

a picture of your husband's net worth.

A map of enemy territory,

so to speak.

You said he's a television producer?

He has a soap opera... The Sands of Time.

It's a silly show.

Well, it'll be yours soon.

Thank you very much.

Thank you, Mr. Massey.

Yeah. Bye-bye.

Still, you have to admire him

for taking those pictures.

Now, Mrs. Gutman,

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Robert Ramsey

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