The Caveman's Valentine

Synopsis: Romulus is mentally ill, a troglodyte in a New York City park. He's also a gifted composer and the father of a city cop. On Valentine's Day, a young man freezes in a tree near his cave. The police determine it's the accidental death of someone behaving bizarrely, but Romulus believes a friend of the dead youth who says that noted avant-garde photographer, David Leppenraub, murdered him. Romulus, urged on by hallucinations of his wife as a young woman, resolves to catch the killer and manages to be invited to Leppenraub's farm to play a new composition. Can Romulus hold it together long enough to get to the bottom of the death and also to make a breakthrough with his daughter?
Genre: Crime, Drama, Music
Director(s): Kasi Lemmons
Production: Universal Pictures
  4 nominations.
 
IMDB:
5.9
Metacritic:
44
Rotten Tomatoes:
45%
R
Year:
2001
105 min
38 Views

Don't you watch me!

You think you're going to crawl

into my brain and see a show?

Is that what I am?

Is that what you think?

What I think, Mr. Ledbetter,

is the temperature's dropping.

Well, I got legions of angels

up here, like little moths,

and they're going to beat the

hell out of you with their wings.

Freaks.

I'm gonna crap you out,

Stuyvesant!

- Who-Who's Stuyvesant?

- You're Stuyvesant.

I'm not Stuyvesant.

- I'm with the department of social services.

- No, you're a zit...

on Stuyvesant's ass, but

you're Stuyvesant just the same.

You're all Stuyvesant.

Tell him...

don't send no more no-face errand boys

to catch me, 'cause I hear ya coming.

I hear your chains, clink, clink.

You sound like defeat.

You even smell like defeat.

You smell like,

like degradation.

Happy Valentine's Day,

Caveman.

Hey, yo, Caveman. Give

us a f*cking tirade, yo.

Yo, what's that f*cker

Stuyvesant up to, man?

Help you?

I don't know you.

No, no, no.

You on your own, son.

You got your troubles,

I got mine.

Do I look like

I can help you, huh?

Help you? I don't even

know who the f*ck you are.

All right, Michael,

thank you.

Mr.? Mr.?

Got a pencil?

A pencil? What do you want a pencil for?

I wanna balance it

on the end of my nose.

You want to

write something?

I got a pen.

Hey, keep it.

What the hey, right?

Can I ask what

you're writing there?

You want your pen back?

No, no, no.

It's okay.

- You a musician or a...

- Mm-hmm.

- What do you play?

- My skull.

- I used to play piano.

- You had a piano, huh?

There were a great many

at the school I attended.

- What school did you go to?

- Julliard.

Julliard?

You went to Julliard, huh?

How the hell

did you wind up here?

I'm here because that bastard

wants me here.

What bastard?

Don't play stupid. The bastard

that lives in that tower.

He sits in his tower,

and he watches.

And what he sees,

he doesn't like.

I mean, it curls his stinking,

rancid blood what he sees.

And what he sees

is a free man!

That old Stuyvesant,

you know what he says to that?

He says, "We're gonna

crush that n*gger.

Oh, yeah, send some Y-rays

that n*gger's way. "

Don't back off, pinstripes,

you f*cking coward.

Stuyvesant's gone and laced

your mind with Y-rays.

You're living like

a jackrabbit.

Oh, yeah, run, Stuyvesant.

But I see ya.

Stuyvesant!

You see me? Well, I see

you right f*cking back!

What lies are you

telling us now?

- Yep?

- Lulu, listen to me.

- Romulus?

- Stuyvesant killed someone.

Where's he calling from?

- Tell her I'm home.

- He got a phone in that cave now?

Tell her, my home is not a

mansion, but it suits me fine.

He freezes to death, I'm

not paying for his funeral.

She says

- I heard her. Listen, Lulu,

this time

I've got the evidence.

You do, huh?

There's a body

outside my cave.

That's rough, Rom. Listen,

I just pulled a night shift.

I am sound asleep.

Please, child.

Please, just come on over.

I know what

you're thinking.

But this dead thing

he left outside my cave, it's real.

It's so shiny real,

it hurts the eyes.

...believed to be another

victim of the Arctic cold wave.

The dead man was identified

as Scott Gates, 20 years old,

unemployed and homeless.

Oh, that sucked.

Can I go again?

A young man has been found frozen

to death here in Inwood Park.

You saw this no-face prop the

body in the tree? That's right.

But you were in there

in your bed the whole time?

How'd you see all this?

I told you,

I saw it on my TV.

What kind of shows

you get on that TV?

All of them. The whole heady

broth of American culture, right?

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George Dawes Green

George Dawes Green (born 1954) is an American novelist and the founder of the storytelling organization The Moth. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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