Leaves of Grass movie plot

2022-03-02 08:01
, a professor of classical philosophy, is a rising star in academia. Bill, who is loved by students, lives a decent life, and he has been cut off from his family for many years because he has always been worried that his family background is not "good". Bill's twin brother Bradyand his motherlive in Oklahoma. Brady, who has been on the streets since he was a child, runs a cannabis business relying on soilless cultivation equipment he designed.
Brady used his "death" to trick Bill back into his hometown. In desperation, Bill had to accept Brady's arrangement to visit his mother in a nursing home. But in fact Brady wanted Bill to be his stand-in to create the illusion of an alibi. Brady went to settle his feud with the drug lord. 
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Extended Reading
  • Tressie 2022-03-27 09:01:21

    Norton's classmate is indeed an acting school, and he is handsome, unrestrained, elegant and reserved...

  • Ethel 2022-03-18 09:01:09

    4.5 stars. A little like the Coen brothers, Norton's performance is flawless

Leaves of Grass quotes

  • Brady Kincaid: [talking about Janet] She's a poet.

    Bill Kincaid: What?

    Brady Kincaid: Seriously. She writes fuckin' poetry. And she's the Ladies Noodling Champion of '05.

    Bill Kincaid: Her?

    Brady Kincaid: 125 pounds of catfish in under 10 hours with nothing but her bare hands.

    [sigh]

    Brady Kincaid: I tried to get her and Colleen in a three-way once, but wouldn't neither of 'em go for it.

  • Janet: You still leaving tomorrow.

    Bill Kincaid: I think so.

    Janet: I'll miss you.

    Bill Kincaid: And we barely know each other.

    Janet: "You have not known what you are. You have slumbered upon yourself all your life. Your eyelids have been the same as closed most of the time. What you have done returns already in mockeries. The mockeries are not you. Underneath them, and within them, I see you lurk."

    Bill Kincaid: [absorbing what she'd just quoted] Who was that?

    Janet: Walt Whitman.

    Bill Kincaid: I don't think I ever imagined hearing him recited to me by a girl gutting a 40 pound catfish.

    Janet: That's exactly how he should be recited. He wrote without rhyme or meter. Free verse. Just whatever he felt inside coming out in one intricate rhythm. Pure unashamed passion, without definable restriction.

    Bill Kincaid: I'm sorry, see, I have a few issues with that.

    Janet: Why?

    Bill Kincaid: Because some have dared to suggest that even poetry has rules.

    Janet: Or you make your own.

    Bill Kincaid: Right there, that's the part I never bought into.

    Janet: Because?

    Bill Kincaid: If everybody runs around making their own rules, how can you ever find what's true? There's nothing... there's nothing to rely on.

    Janet: "One night, I split my cicada skin, devoured your leaves, knowing no poison, no law of nourishment in that larval blindness, a hunger finally true."

    Bill Kincaid: Who's that?

    Janet: That's me.

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