Jarhead (film)

2005 film directed by Sam Mendes
(Redirected from Jarhead)

Jarhead is a 2005 film based on U.S. Marine Anthony Swofford's 2003 Gulf War memoir of the same name. The title comes from the slang term used to refer to Marines (sometimes by Marines themselves). The film was directed by Sam Mendes.

I could be working with my brother right now. He's got a dry-wall business in Compton. Does the inside of office buildings — you know, the metal studs. I could be his partner. Said he'd give me that brand new Dodge Ram Charger — you know, the 318 Magnum? The beast? All indoor work, too, lots of AC. I could sleep with my wife every night, fuck her, maybe; take my kids to school every morning. And I'd run his crews, too, probably increase productivity 40 to 50%. Make $100K a year. Do you know why I don't? Because I love this job. I thank God for every fucking day he gives me in the Corps. Oorah.
Hey, fuck politics, all right? We're here. All the rest is bullshit.

Anthony Swofford edit

  • Four days, four hours, one minute. That was my war.

Staff Sgt. Sykes edit

  • Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for I am the baddest motherfucker in the goddamn valley.
  • I could be working with my brother right now. He's got a dry-wall business in Compton. Does the inside of office buildings — you know, the metal studs. I could be his partner. Said he'd give me that brand new Dodge Ram Charger — you know, the 318 Magnum? The beast? All indoor work, too, lots of AC. I could sleep with my wife every night, fuck her, maybe; take my kids to school every morning. And I'd run his crews, too, probably increase productivity 40 to 50%. Make $100K a year. Do you know why I don't? Because I love this job. I thank God for every fucking day he gives me in the Corps. Oorah.
  • You are a Marine. There is no such thing as speech that is free. You must pay for everything that you say.
  • You laugh, you die. Scratch your nose, you die. You shift your weight to take a piss, you will die. You want to shit, you better shit in your pants.
  • (to a reporter who heard Swofford say 'field fuck') He said 'field fun!'

Corporal Troy edit

  • Hey, fuck politics, all right? We're here. All the rest is bullshit.

PFC Dave Fowler edit

  • Fucker's fucked now.

Dialogue edit

[first lines]
Swofford: [voice-over] A story. A man fires a rifle for many years. And he goes to war. And afterward, he turns the rifle in at the Armory, and he believes he's finished with the rifle. But no matter what else he might do with his hands-- love a woman, build a house, change his son's diaper-- his hands remember the rifle.
Drill Instructor Fitch: You are no longer black, or brown, or yellow, or red! You are now Green! You are Light Green or Dark Green! Do you understand?!
Recruits: [loudly] SIR, YES, SIR!
Drill Instructor Fitch: Swofford.
Swofford: Sir, yes, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: You the maggot whose father served in Vietnam?
Swofford: Sir, yes, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: Outstanding! Did he have the balls to die there?
Swofford: Sir, no, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: Too fucking bad! Did he ever talk about it?
Swofford: Sir, only once, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: Good! Then he wasn't lying! [angrily] Are you eyeballing me with those baby blues? ARE YOU?!
Swofford: Sir, no, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: Are you in love with me, Swofford?
Swofford: Sir, no, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: Oh, you don't think I look good in my uniform, Swofford?
Swofford: Sir, the Drill Sergeant looks fabulous in his uniform, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: Oh, so you're gay then, and you love me, huh?
Swofford: Sir, I'm not gay, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: Do you have a girlfriend, Swofford?
Swofford: Sir, yes, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: Guess again, motherfucker! Jody's banging her right now. Get on your face and give me 25 for every time she gets fucked this month. Down on your face!
Swofford: [voice-over while doing 25 push-ups] It was shortly after meeting Drill Instructor Fitch that I realized that joining the Marine Corps might have been a bad decision.
Drill Instructor Fitch: [angrily] What in the fuck is this?
[scene cuts out to later in Swofford's training; he and Fitch are standing in front of a chalkboard with a diagram labeled "FOOTLOCKER CONTENTS", drawn by Swofford.]
Swofford: Sir, it's the recruit's drawing of a footlocker, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: Jesus, Joseph, and doggy-style Mary! That is a pile of dogshit!
Swofford: Sir, the recruit's never been good at drawing, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: Why the fuck are you my scribe, then?! Isn't my scribe supposed to know how to draw?!
Swofford: Sir, the recruit doesn't know; the recruit thought the scribe was supposed to write, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: [strangles Swofford, and Swofford drops to his knees] 'Course the recruit doesn't know! The recruit doesn't know because I haven't told him! [slapping Swofford's head repeatedly] All right, cum-for-brains, show me exactly...
Swofford: Sir--
Drill Instructor Fitch: ...where your Skivvies and running shoes go!
Swofford: Sir, the recruit can't think while the Drill Instructor is hitting him on his head, sir!
Drill Instructor Fitch: You can't think while I'm giving you a few love taps?! How the fuck are you going to fire your rifle when grenades are going off in your face?! What the fuck are you even doing here?!
Swofford: [bellowing in rage] SIR, I GOT LOST ON THE WAY TO COLLEGE, SIR!
[Drill Instructor Fitch furiously grabs Swofford's head and bangs it on the chalkboard, as the movie freeze-frames, and Don't Worry, Be Happy by Bobby McFerrin plays.]
Swofford: So now, my hands... were dick-skinners. A flashlight was a moon-beam. A pen was an ink stick. My mouth was a cum receptacle. A bed was a rack. A wall was a bulkhead. A shirt was a blouse. A tie was still a tie, and a belt a belt. But many other things would never be the same.

Desk Clerk: Swofford. What kind of fucking name is that?
Swofford: It's English. My great-grandfather came over here in the 19th century.
Desk Clerk: Whatever. I'm putting you in Golf Company. It's full of retards and fuck-ups. Maybe you can elevate the sons-of-bitches a little. [looks up] Or maybe not. Next!

Cpl Alan Troy: [wearing a gas mask, mimicking Darth Vader.] Luke.
[Swofford looks up at Troy]
Cpl Alan Troy: Come over to the dark side, Luke.

External links edit

 
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