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Glengarry Glen Ross (film)

1992 film directed by James Foley

Glengarry Glen Ross is a 1992 film that is an examination of the machinations behind the scenes at a real estate sales office.

Always be closing.
That watch cost more than your car.
Directed by James Foley and written by David Mamet, based on his play of the same name.
A Story For Everyone Who Works For A Living. Taglines

Richard "Ricky" Roma

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  • I subscribe to the law of contrary public opinion: if everyone thinks one thing, then I say, bet the other way.
  • I've been on a hot streak. So what? The things I could learn for you.

Shelley Levene

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  • [to John Williamson] What the hell are you? You're a fuckin' secretary. Fuck you. Yeah, that's my message to ya: fuck you and kiss my ass, and if you don't like it baby, I'm going across the street to Jerry Graff, period. Fuck you.
  • That's defeatist! Fuck it!
  • You are a shit-head, Williamson. Can't think on your feet, you ought to keep your mouth closed.

Dialogue

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Coffee's for closers only.
 
A–I–D–A. Attention, Interest, Decision, Action. Attention: do I have your attention? Interest: are you interested? I know you are, 'cause it's fuck or walk. You close, or you hit the bricks! Decision: have you made your decision for Christ? And action. A–I–D–A.
 
As you all know, first prize is a Cadillac Eldorado. Anybody wanna see second prize? Second prize's a set of steak knives. Third prize is you're fired.
Blake: Let me have your attention for a moment. 'Cause you're talking about what? You're talking about bitching about that sale you shot, some son of a bitch don't wanna buy land, somebody don't want what you're selling, some broad you're trying to screw, so forth. Let's talk about something important. [to John Williamson] Are they all here?
John Williamson: All but one.
Blake: Well, I'm going anyway. Let's talk about something important. [to Shelley] Put that coffee down! Coffee's for closers only. You think I'm fucking with you? I am not fucking with you. I'm here from downtown. I'm here from Mitch and Murray, and I'm here on a mission of mercy! Your name's Levene?
Shelley Levene: Yeah.
Blake: You call yourself a salesman, you son of a bitch?
Dave Moss: I don't gotta listen to this shit.
Blake: You certainly don't, pal, 'cause the good news is you're fired. The bad news is you've got — all of you've got — just one week to regain your jobs, starting with tonight. Starting with tonight's sit. Oh, have I got your attention now? Good, 'cause we're adding a little something to this month's sales contest. As you all know, first prize is a Cadillac Eldorado. Anybody wanna see second prize? Second prize's a set of steak knives. Third prize is you're fired. Do you get the picture? Are you laughing now? You got leads. Mitch and Murray paid good money. Get their names to sell them! You can't close the leads you're given? You can't close shit? You are shit! Hit the bricks, pal, and beat it 'cause you are going out!
Shelley: The leads are weak!
Blake: The leads are weak? Fucking leads are weak? You're weak. I've been in this business 15 years.
Dave: What's your name?
Blake: Fuck you! That's my name! You know why, mister? 'Cause you drove a Hyundai to get here tonight. I drove an $80,000 BMW. That's my name! [to Shelley] And your name is: you're wanting and you can't play in a man's game. You can't close them? Then go home and tell your wife your troubles. [to everyone again] Because only one thing counts in this life! Get them to sign on the line which is dotted! You hear me, you fucking faggots? [Flips over a blackboard with slogans written on it] A–B–C. A: Always, B: Be, C: Closing. Always be closing. Always be closing! A–I–D–A. Attention, Interest, Decision, Action. Attention: do I have your attention? Interest: are you interested? I know you are, 'cause it's fuck or walk. You close, or you hit the bricks! Decision: have you made your decision for Christ? And action. A–I–D–A. Get out there! You got the prospects coming in; you think they came in to get outta the rain? A guy don't walk on the lot unless he wants to buy. They're sitting out there waiting to give you their money. Are you gonna take it? Are you man enough to take it?
Dave: Incredible.
Blake: [to Moss] What's the problem, pal? You, Moss.
Dave: You're such a hero. You’re so rich. How come you’re coming down here and waste your time with such a bunch of bums?
Blake: You see this watch? [takes off his gold watch] You see this watch?
Dave: Yeah.
Blake: That watch cost more than your car. I made $970,000 last year. How much you make? You see, pal, that's who I am, and you're nothing. Nice guy? I don't give a shit. Good father? Fuck you! Go home and play with your kids. [to everyone] You wanna work here? Close! [to George Aaronow] You think this is abuse? You think this is abuse, you cocksucker? You can't take this, how can you take the abuse you get on a sit? You don't like it, leave. I can go out there tonight with the materials you got, make myself $15,000, tonight, in two hours! Can you? Can you? Go and do likewise! A–I–D–A! Get mad, you son of a bitches! Get mad! You know what it takes to sell real estate? [poses with a pair of metal balls on a wire] It takes brass balls to sell real estate. Go and do likewise, gents. The money's out there. You pick it up, it's yours. You don't, I got no sympathy for you. You wanna go out on those sits tonight and close — close! — it's yours. Not, you're gonna be shining my shoes. And you know what you'll be saying — bunch of losers, sitting around in a bar? "Oh yeah, I used to be a salesman. It's a tough racket." These are the new leads. These are the Glengarry leads, and to you, they're gold, and you don't get them. Why? Because to give them to you is just throwing them away. They're for closers. I'd wish you good luck, but you wouldn't know what to do with it if you got it. [to Moss as he puts on his watch again] And to answer your question, pal, why am I here? I came here because Mitch and Murray asked me to. They asked for a favor. I said, the real favor? Follow my advice and fire your fucking ass because a loser is a loser.
Ricky Roma: All train compartments smell vaguely of shit. It gets so you don't mind it. That's the worse thing that I can confess. You know how long it took me to get there? A long time. When you die, you're gonna regret the things you don't do. You think you're queer? I'm gonna tell you something: we're all queer. You think you're a thief? So what? You get befuddled by a middle-class morality? Get shot of it. Shut it out. You cheat on your wife? You did it. Live with it. Fuck little girls? So be it. There's an absolute morality? Maybe. And then what? If you think there is, go ahead, be that thing. Bad people go to hell? I don't think so. You think that? Act that way. A hell exists on Earth? Yes. I won't live in it. That's me. Did you ever take a dump made you feel like you'd just slept for twelve hours?
James Lingk: That I—
Ricky: Yes?
James: I don't know.
Roma: Or a piss? Great meals fade in reflection. Everything else gains. You know why? 'Cause it's only food. This shit we put on us keeps us going. It's only food. The great fucks you may have had, what do you remember about them?
James: What do I remember? I–
Ricky: I don't know. For me? I'm saying what it is. It's probably not the orgasm. Some broad's forearm on your neck, something her eyes did. There was this sound she made. Or it's me in the uh — I'm telling you — I'm in bed. The next day she brought me café au lait, gives me a cigarette. My balls feel like concrete. Hey, what I'm saying: what is our life? Our life is looking forward, or it's looking back. That's it. That's our life. Where's the moment? And what is it we're so afraid of?
James: Loss.
Ricky: What else? The bank closes. You get sick. My wife died on a plane. The stock market collapsed. What if these things happen? None of 'em. We worry anyway. Why?
...
Ricky: Stocks, bonds, objects of art, real estate. What are they? An opportunity. To what? To make money? Perhaps. To lose money? Perhaps. To indulge and to learn about ourselves? Perhaps! So fucking what? What isn't? They're an opportunity. That's all they are. They're an event. A guy comes to you. You make a call. You send in a card. "I have these properties I would like for you to see." What does this mean? What do you want it to mean? Do you see what I'm saying? Things happen to you. Glad I met you. I'm glad I met you, James. I want to show you something. It may mean something to you. It may not. I don't know. I don't know anymore. [takes out a brochure] What is that? Florida. Glengarry Highlands. Florida? Bullshit. And maybe that's true, and that's what I said. But look at this. [opens the brochure, with the words: 'Make Your Dreams Come True'] What is this? This is a piece of land.
Ricky Roma: [to James Lingk]: I'm going to tell you something. Your life is your own. You have a contract with your wife? You have certain things you do jointly? Bond there. And there are other things, and those things are yours, and you needn't feel ashamed. You needn't feel that you're being untrue, or that she would abandon you if she knew. This is your life.
George Aaronow: When I talk to the police, I get nervous.
Ricky Roma: Yes. You know who doesn't?
George: Who?
Ricky: Thieves. Always tell the truth, George; it's the easiest thing to remember.
Ricky Roma: [getting lead cards from Williamson] Ho, ho, ho! "Patel"? "Ravadem Patel"? Wh—how'm I gonna make a living on these dead-beats? Where'd you get this from, the morgue?
John Williamson: Look, I'm—
Ricky: Oh come on. What's the point? What's the fucking point in any case? I gotta argue with you? I gotta knock heads with the cops? I'm busting my balls selling your dirt to dead-beats! Money in the mattress! I come back, you can't even keep the contracts safe, I gotta go out and cl— [throws the cards at Williamson] Fuck this shit! I'm gonna go out and re-close last week's stuff.
John: No, no, no. The word from Murray is to leave them alone. He needs a new sit. He'll go out himself.
Ricky: Murray's gonna go out?
John: Yeah. He'll be the president of the company, just come in from out of town. All right?
Ricky: Okay, okay, okay. Give me this shit. [takes the leads again]
John: I'm giving you three leads.
Ricky: Three? No, I count two.
John: There's three leads there.
Ricky: "Patel"? Fuck you. Fucking Shiva handed this guy a million dollars, told him "Sign the deal!", he wouldn't sign. And the god Vishnu too, into the bargain. Fuck you, John! You know your business. I know mine. Your business is being an asshole. I find out whose fucking cousin you are, I'm going to go to him and figure out a way to have your ass! Fuck you! [throws the cards at Williamson again] I'm waiting for the new leads.
Dave Moss: You're fucked, Rick. Are you fucking nuts? You're hot, so you think you're the ruler of this place. You wanna—
Shelley Levene: Now, wait a minute, Dave.
Dave: Shut up!
Shelley: Okay.
Dave: You want to decide who should be dealt with how, is that it? I come in the fucking office today, I get humiliated by some jack-off cop. I get accused of— I get the shit thrown in my face by you, you genuine shit, because you're top name on the board?
Ricky Roma: Is that what I did, Dave? I humiliated you? Oh my God. I'm sorry.
Dave: Sitting on top of the world. Sitting on top of the world, everything's fucking peach fuzz.
Ricky: And I don't get a moment to spare for some bust-out humanitarian down on his luck lately?
Dave: Oh, fuck—
Ricky: Fuck you, Dave. You know you got a big mouth. You make a close, this whole place stinks with your farts for a week, how much you just ingested. Oh, what a big man you are! "Hey, let me buy you a pack of gum. I'll show you how to chew it." Ooh! Your pal closes, and all that comes out of your mouth is bile! How fucked-up you are!
Dave: Who's my pal, Ricky? Hmm? What are you? And what are you, Ricky? Huh? Bishop Sheen? What the fuck are you, Mr. Slick? Who— what the fuck are you: friend of the working man? Big deal! Fuck you! You got the memory of a fucking fly! I never liked you, anyway.
Ricky: What is this, your farewell speech?
Dave: I'm going home.
Ricky: Your farewell to the troops?
Dave: I'm not going home. I'm going to Wisconsin.
Ricky: Have a good trip.
Dave: Ah, fuck you! Fuck the lot of you! Fuck you all! [exits]
Ricky: [to Shelley] You were saying?
Ricky Roma: [to John Williamson] You stupid fucking cunt. You, Williamson, I'm talking to you, shithead. You just cost me $6,000. $6,000 and one Cadillac. That's right! What're you gonna do about it? What are you gonna do about it, asshole? You're fucking shit. Where did you learn your trade, you stupid fucking cunt, you idiot? Who ever told you that you could work with men?
Detective: Could I, uh—
Ricky: Oh, I'm gonna have your job, shithead. I'm going downtown, I'm gonna talk to Mitch and Murray. I'm going to Limpkin. I don't care whose nephew you are, who you know, whose dick you're sucking on, you're going out. I swear to you, you're going-
Detective: Come on. let's get this done.
Ricky: Anyone in this office lives on his wits. [to the detective] I'm gonna be with you in a second. [to John] What you're hired for is to help us. Does that seem clear to you? To help us, not to fuck us up. To help men who are going out there to try to earn a living, you fairy, you company man. I'll tell you something else. I hope you ripped the joint off. I can tell your friend here a little something might help him to catch you. You want to learn the first rule? You'd know if you spent a day in your life. Don't ever open your mouth 'til you know what the shot is, you fucking child!
John Williamson: The leads are coming!
Shelley Levene: Get 'em to me!
John: I talked to Mitch and Murray an hour ago. They're coming in, you understand. They're a bit upset about this morning's—
Shelley: Did you tell 'em about my sale?
John: How could I tell them about your sale? I don't even have a teleph— I'll tell them about your sale when they bring in the leads, all right? Shelley, all right? You closed a deal. Fine. You made a good sale. Fine.
Shelley: It's better than a good sale. It's—
John: Look, I have a lot on my mind right now. They're coming in, all right? They're very upset, I'm trying to make some sense—
Shelley: I'm telling you. The one thing you can tell them is that it's a remarkable sale.
John: The only thing remarkable about it is who you made it to.
Shelley: What the fuck does that mean?
John: That if the sale sticks, it'll be a miracle.
Shelley: What does that mean? Why would it not— oh, fuck you. You do not know your job. That's what I'm saying. You do not know your job. That's what I'm saying. A man is his job, and you are fucked at yours. All right, I'm done with you.
John Williamson: You said, "You don't make something up unless it's sure to help." How did you know I made it up?
Shelley Levene: What are you talking about?
John: I told the customer his contract went to the bank.
Shelley: Had it?
John: No, it hadn't.
Shelley: Don't fuck with me. Don't fuck with me! What are you getting at?
John: Well, I'm saying this, Shelley: Usually I take the contracts to the bank. Last night I didn't. Last night I stayed home with my kids. How did you know that? One night in a year I left a contract on my desk. No one knew that but you. Now how did you know that? You want to talk to me, or do you want to talk to someone else? [points to the office]
Shelley: Oh, for Christ's sake.
John: Because this is my job. This is my job on the line, and you are gonna talk to me! Now how did you know that contract was on my desk?
Shelley: You are so full of shit.
John: You robbed the office.
Shelley: Oh sure, I robbed the office! Oh, sure! You're an asshole.
John: What did you do with the leads? You want to go in there? I tell him what I know, he's gonna dig up something. You got an alibi last night, Shelley? You better have one. What did you do with the leads? If you tell me what you did with the leads, we can talk.
Shelley: Well, I don't know what the hell you're talking about!
John: If you tell me where the leads are I won't turn you in. If you don't, I'm gonna tell a cop you stole them. Mitch and Murray will see that you go to jail. Believe me, they will! Now where are the leads? I'm walking in that door. You got five seconds to tell me or you are going to jail!
Shelley: Ah, go on.
John: Yeah, I don't care! You understand? Where are the leads?
Shelley: I—
John: All right. [walks to the office]
Shelley: I sold 'em.
Shelley Levene: [as John heads to the office] Don't!
John Williamson: I'm sorry.
Shelley: Why?
John: Because I don't like you.
Shelley: My daughter.
John: Fuck you!

Taglines

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  • A Story For Everyone Who Works For A Living.
  • Lie. Cheat. Steal. All In A Day's Work.

Cast

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