Mr. Nice Page #4

Synopsis: Mr Nice is the true life story of Howard Marks who was born into a coal mining family in South Wales in 1940's and then made it to Oxford University to study nuclear physics during the swinging sixties. With the help of fellow students, Marks built a worldwide marijuana smuggling network which became responsible for the majority of the drug smoked in the Western world during the 1970s and 1980s. Marks' adventures led him to have dealings with the CIA, PLO, IRA and the Mafia and he even became an MI6 agent himself for a period. Howard Marks is played by the brilliant Rhys Ivans, who won much acclaim for his portrayal of the folk hero.
Director(s): Bernard Rose
Production: Séville Pictures
  2 wins.
 
IMDB:
6.4
Metacritic:
60
Rotten Tomatoes:
55%
Year:
2010
121 min
Website
183 Views


The problem

is how to get it onto the ground.

Uh-huh.

James McCann,

the people's hero from the Provisional IRA,

in their struggle

against the British government.

They've arrested him

and charged him with terrorism.

He wouldn't recognise court,

turned his back on the proceedings.

Crazy cat!

They've thrown him in jail,

he's escaped, sawed through the bars.

The nutter's got every policeman in Ireland

looking for him.

Then out of the blue,

he comes into the office,

gives us an interview for the magazine.

Yeah, he's a...

He's a real revolutionary.

- Welcome to paradise.

- Paradise?

Jim?

Jim?

- Where's your man McCann?

- Hello?

Likes his porn.

Hey, your mam's in here.

- Let's have a look.

- Doesn't she look like your mum?

Shut up.

Hashish should be illegal.

Gives us a means of living.

A new currency to overthrow

the fascist overlords.

I don't think it should be illegal.

I can't condone

the punishing of people who smoke it.

- Oh. Hello.

- Hello, Jim.

Uh... Howard.

- You're from Kabul, are you?

- I'm Welsh, actually.

Welsh? F***ing Welsh!

What the f*** can you do?

Well, I'm here to decide

whether you can help us or not.

Help you? I'm the Kid. The Fox!

I decide if you're any f***ing use to me.

And you'd better be some f***ing use!

You were followed from the airport

by my boys.

This place is surrounded by the IRA.

Any f***ing around

and you're gone, brother, gone!

Right?

Alan, why have you brought me this wimp?

You was gonna get me someone

who could bring me arms from Kabul.

I told you,

Kabul's not a place that sells arms.

What the f*** do you mean, sell arms?

I don't buy f***ing arms.

I get given them by people

who want to ensure their future

when we finally kick you f***ing Brits

out of my country!

Sell arms...

Smoke, Jim?

We're dope smugglers. We wanted to know

if you could help us bring it into the country.

Pay you a lot of money for doing it.

OK.

Did nobody tell you

what the boys do to drug dealers?

We're revolutionaries,

not f***ing drug pushers.

Out!

- Walk! Now! You, come on.

- OK.

- Out!

- All right, Jim. All right.

Come on!

Down there. Come on!

We've done nothing wrong.

- Jim, please!

- Hey, hey! What the f*** are you doing?

- Joint? Last request?

- You're not f***ing listening, are ya?

We don't want that filth here.

Stand back.

I'm gonna kneecap Soppy Bollocks.

No. No, no, man, listen. I'll go first.

He's shitting himself.

- Do me.

- Good man.

You might wanna sit down first,

so you don't crack your head when you fall.

- Take your trousers down.

- What?

It's for your own good.

If I shoot you through the trousers, a bit of

cloth could get in the wound and infect it

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Bernard Rose

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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