detectivesamstrings

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Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, Dark Passage, 1947

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Pre-A. by Mathieu Bonnevie on Flickr.

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Не��ного приоткрою завесу тайны над ноарным проектом, над которым наша команда трудилась последние пару недель.

Сюжет жизнен и прост - любовь, измена, убийство, преследование,правосудие…которое по нашему замыслу не восторжествовало) убийцы остаются безнаказанными, добро не победило и покоится в багажнике на заброшенной стоянке)))

P.S. в ходе съемок никто застрелен не был

В главных ролях: Зеркаева Анна и Лысенко Александр, Кошелева Ирина, Кузнецов Дмитрий и Кузнецова Елена, ну и я за компанию, ваша М.Л.

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Sin City (2005)

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Devlin (Cary Grant) is hurting inside so bad he decides to hurt Alicia Huberman (Ingrid Bergman) back with some words in Notorious (1946).

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Detective Sam Strings.

"Who wants to know?"

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Like something out of an old movie….

This frozen dockside scene could easily be from a classic film noir of the 1940s/1950s….or a more modern thriller or crime drama.

You can almost picture Humphrey Bogart, Robert Mitchum or Gene Hackman skulking in the shadows….

It’s actually set in a somewhat less-sinister, albeit frigid, March 2014 Montreal, Canada.

                                 __________________________

»CLICK the photo for a great close-up….

»Photo: Alex Rykov….with more of his fine photographic artistry HERE and HERE….

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"Sin City’s where you go in with your eyes open, or you don’t come out at all."

Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Johnny in Sin City: A Dame To Kill For (2014) (x)

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"I'm freakin' you out, copper top?"

Sam gestures to the world around him.

"Things are comin' apart at the seams here.  Somethin' ain't right, and there's..."

He comes to a stop, looking his partner up and down.

"Somethin' ain't right with you, either," he repeats, looking uneasy.

The outline of the redhead is...jittery, somehow - gone fuzzy at the edges.

Sam purses his lips, walking a slow circle around the redhead like a prize fighter sizing up an opponent.

"Somethin’ screwy goin’ on here.  S’been goin’ weird since yesterday."

It was true - the lines of architecture had gone oddly smeary and indistinct; the grey-scale world tinged with a sickly ochre color.  It felt like walking through a too-wet watercolor painting.

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I cannot say from where I'm standing My friends have passed out on the landing Yes, one too many has left us high and dry I've been feeling down, since the suits got back in town

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There's a little tug on his sleeve. "Hey. Heeey. What'cha doin'?"

Sam glances down with a smile.

"Hey there, carrot top."

He snuffs out his cigarette before kneeling, smiling to the little one.

"Not a whole lot - just reading up on some not-very-nice people.  Boring, grown-up stuff.  How about you, champ?"

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Sam purses his lips, walking a slow circle around the redhead like a prize fighter sizing up an opponent.

"Somethin' screwy goin' on here.  S'been goin' weird since yesterday."

It was true - the lines of architecture had gone oddly smeary and indistinct; the grey-scale world tinged with a sickly ochre color.  It felt like walking through a too-wet watercolor painting.

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Sam, I don't know how he can see you, but you should just. Keep away from him. I don't have any reason to think he couldn't pull you outta my head.

"Wh...wait, what?"

The Detective frowns, brow furrowed.  He doesn't like being confounded; it runs against his nature.  But now?  Well...discombobulation pretty much covers it.

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What's shakin'?

Sam frowns, narrowing his fog-blue eyes.

"...Ah, what kinda fresh Hell is this?"

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"Around these parts somewhere."

The ladder is set into a concrete wall that leads up to the street level of the pier.  As he finds his footing again, Sam kneels and offers Hanna a hand up.

"I've never actually been outside the 'office,' strictly speaking, but when the heavies that dragged me out here did so, I guess that kinda built this place in my own head, too."

He glances around with a little smile.

"Looks like Mind is Matter in this case, eh?"

"I guess if you’re saying it, I should probably know what it means. Because brain." He taps his shaved skull.

As Sam translates his lingo, however, Hanna isn’t sure he’s ever heard those phrases before. Weeeird. Oh well, he disregards the language barrier for now as he follows his better half up a… a ladder. Right.

So he’s still around when Hanna isn’t clocked in, it seems. It makes sense, then, that Sam would have dealt with a distress parallel to Hanna’s own visit to the house of horrors. Hanna wishes he could’ve shut Sam off for that.

"I wonder why people can see you. I mean, if you’re a manifestation of an idea planted in my head, I just… don’t get it, man." He probably never will, honestly.

"We’re getting back to your office? Is it… Where the hell is it?"

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Sam nods appreciatively.

"Different 'n what I'm used to, but that's not a bad thing in the least.  It's been interesting stretchin' my legs outside of the confines of Red's noggin."

"My ex had it built…i kinda…chased her off." he laughs, weakly, as he walks the short distance to the front door, which opens into the bedroom with a king sized hammock bed suspended from the ceiling.