Ecrivain & scénariste
Hier j’étais au concert de Nick Cave, au piano, et Colin Greenwood à la basse.
Au second rang, à cinq mètres du musicien australien.
C’était incroyable.
J’ai pas de mots. Je suis tellement content d’avoir assisté à The Mercy Seat (une de mes chansons préférées) en live.
Un grand souvenir.
Merci Nick, de tout mon coeur.
Australie. XIXe siècle.
Après une fusillade digne du far West, le capitaine Stanley (Ray Winstone, dans ce qui doit être son meilleur rôle) capture deux des trois frère Burns : Charlie (Guy Pearce) et Mikey. L’officier fait une proposition à Charlie : » je te donne un fusil, tu retrouves ton frère Arthur (Danny Huston) et tu le tues. Tu as neuf jours. Dans le cas contraire, je fais pendre ton jeune frère Mikey, pour Noël. Je vais civiliser ce pays. «
Arthur est impliqué dans un massacre épouvantable, une femme enceinte a été violée avant d’être assassinée ainsi que le reste de sa famille. On dit qu’il est devenu un chien et qu’il vit quelque part dans l’arrière-pays, dans une caverne. On dit que c’est le Diable incarné.
Ce western australien quasi métaphysique, scénarisé par Nick Cave, est plus qu’une réussite, c’est un chef d’œuvre. La bande-son de Nick Cave et Warren Ellis est incroyable. Comme dans Apportez-moi la tête d’Alfredo Garcia de Sam Peckinpah, on passe de moment calmes quasi contemplatifs à des flambées de violence d’une brutalité rarement vue au cinéma. Tous les acteurs sont extraordinaires, même les seconds rôles : John Hurt, Emily Watson, David Gulpilil.
J’ai revu ce film car j’ai acheté le magnifique coffret proposé par l’éditeur BFI. Pas de langue française, pas de sous-titres français, mais les sous-titres anglais pour sourds et malentendants sont très bien faits.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NpFgkiAPwgE
« The Mercy Seat »
I began to warm and chill
To objects and their fields,
A ragged cup, a twisted mop
The face of Jesus in my soup
Those sinister dinner deals
The meal trolley’s wicked wheels
A hooked bone rising from my food
All things either good or ungood.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I’m yearning
To be done with all this measuring of proof.
An eye for an eye
A tooth for a tooth
And anyway I told the truth
And I’m not afraid to die.
Interpret signs and catalogue
A blackened tooth, a scarlet fog.
The walls are bad. Black. Bottom kind.
They are sick breath at my hind
They are sick breath at my hind
They are sick breath at my hind
They are sick breath gathering at my hind
I hear stories from the chamber
How Christ was born into a manger
And like some ragged stranger
Died upon the cross
And might I say, it seems so fitting in its way
He was a carpenter by trade
Or at least that’s what I’m told
Like my good hand
tattooed E.V.I.L. across it’s brother’s fist
That filthy five! They did nothing to challenge or resist.
In Heaven His throne is made of gold
The ark of his Testament is stowed
A throne from which I’m told
All history does unfold.
Down here it’s made of wood and wire
And my body is on fire
And God is never far away.
Into the mercy seat I climb
My head is shaved, my head is wired
And like a moth that tries
To enter the bright eye
So I go shuffling out of life
Just to hide in death awhile
And anyway I never lied.
My kill-hand is called E.V.I.L.
Wears a wedding band that’s G.O.O.D.
‘Tis a long-suffering shackle
Collaring all that devil blood.
And the mercy seat is a-burning
And I think my head is flowing
And in a way I’m hoping
To be done with all this weighing up of truth.
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth
And I’ve got nothing left to lose
And I’m not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I’m yearning
To be done with all this measuring of proof
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth
And anyway, there was no proof
And nor a motive why.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I’m yearning
To be done with all this measuring of proof.
A life for a life
And a tooth for a tooth
And anyway there was no proof
And I’m not afraid to die.
Now the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is smoking
And in a way I’m hoping
To be done with all these looks of disbelief.
A eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth
And anyway I told the truth
And I’m not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I’m yearning
To be done with all this measuring of proof
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth
And anyway I told the truth
And I’m not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I’m yearning
To be done with all this measuring of proof.
A eye for a eye
And a tooth for a tooth
And anyway I told the truth
But I’m not afraid to lie.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I’m yearning
To be done with all this measuring of proof
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth
And anyway I told the truth
But I’m afraid I told a lie.
Thomas Day 