Tous ceux qui me lisent depuis un certain temps savent que j'aime bien le cinéma. Je trouve que le cinéma est un outil extraordinaire pour mieux comprendre le monde dans lequel on vit. Ça nous aide à mieux nous orienter dans le chaos actuel, un peu comme les plans dans les centres commerciaux qui disent: «Vous êtes là.»
C'est pour cette raison que régulièrement, je vais vous livrer des citations tirées de films célèbres. Citations qui sont liées à l'actualité.
Cette semaine, un long monologue tiré de Good Will Hunting, l'excellent film de Gus Van Sant écrit par Ben Affleck (eh oui) et Matt Damon. La scène se déroule dans le bureau d'un recruteur de la NSA (National Security Agency), une sorte de filiale de la CIA. Will, le personnage principal, un jeune mathématicien particulièrement brillant, a été recruté par la firme de renseignement pour devenir décodeur. Will explique à l'homme qui veut l'engager pourquoi il n'ira pas travailler à la NSA.
(Désolé pour les lecteurs unilingues, mais ledit monologue est en anglais. Je n'ai pas trouvé la version française…)
Je trouve que ce superbe monologue, qui dénonce les liens entre la guerre, la mondialisation et l'exploitation des travailleurs est toujours aussi pertinent aujourd'hui. Une véritable leçon d'Histoire, en quelques lignes bien envoyées.
Will: «Why shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.? That's a tough one, but I'll give it a shot.
Say I'm working at N.S.A. Somebody puts a code on my desk, something nobody else can break. So I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East.
Once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people I never had a problem with get killed.
Now the politicians are sayin', "Send in the marines to secure the area" 'cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when their number was called, 'cause they were pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some guy from Southie takin' shrapnel in the ass.
And he comes home to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks.
Meanwhile my buddy from Southie realizes the only reason he was over there was so we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And of course the oil companies used the skirmish to scare up oil prices so they could turn a quick buck. A cute little ancillary benefit for them but it ain't helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon.
And naturally they're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back, and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis and play slalom with the icebergs, and it ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic.
So my buddy's out of work and he can't afford to drive, so he's got to walk to the job interviews, which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin' 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat the only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State.
So what do I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better.
Why not just shoot my buddy, take his job and give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected president.»